Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Sshhh shh The Hague, go with it, it's where the world court is...

Last week in Philly, my sis reminded me of a very funny story about the two of us in Vegas in early 2005. (Before Partnerworld that year...when I met (it was fate) rock star 2/hotness.)

We're in that restaurant - that Alain Ducasse restaurant - at the top of Mandalay Bay. We meet some boys. Men actually. Europeans, tall, slick and somewhat feminine, just the way I like my men. They are chatting us up, with indistinct accents, and we naturally ask them where they are from. I figure they are Dutch, because the Dutch have nebulous accents. They say:

The Hague.

My sister almost spits out her drink. She begins furiously whispering, "The Hague. What the hell is the Hague?! I'm from The Florida! Are they making this up?"

So I look at her, and under my breath, through the side of my mouth, with my eyebrow raised in that "Hey little sis pay attention right now" sort of way, I hiss: "World court, just go with it."

Later, when we have a moment, I give her a brief and what I thought (in my drunken state) was accurate portrayal of The Hague. I said, "It's where the World Court is, one of those ridiculous little countries like Luxembourg that exists in Europe. Its near France and Belgium."

She was thoroughly impressed, and we left it at that.

She brought up this story last week, still thoroughly impressed and also very giggly about the whole thing, saying, "I was so uncool...I thought they were lying...I was ready to call them out on this Hague thing and you were like, shush shush not cool, not cool...icksnay on the Ague-Hay"

She then said, "That part of Europe just befuddles me. The Dutch? The Hague? Belgium? I can't tell the difference."

My response was, "Belgium is the country that is like France but really the Frank Stallone version of France and has great beer..."

So I got to thinking, just today, you know, I don't think I was right about The Hague. And I personally didn't think I could effectively explain where The Hague is in relation to Holland.

So I wiki'ed it, and sent her this missive. I think I'll include it to school you guys, although maybe I was the only one confused.

Dear Sis:

So...I was curious about the difference between Holland, The Netherlands, The Hague, and Belgium after our discussion last week. I discovered that:

The Hague is NOT a country, but a part of the Netherlands.

It is the seat of government but alas not the capital. It is home to Royal Dutch Shell and the World Court. People like to say they are from the Hague b/c it is such a seat of international diplomatic power, heavily associated with the UN and the World Court, and is considered a very special, almost separate, part of the Netherlands. The Dutch Queen resides in The Hague. It is never referred to as Hague, always "The Hague." You sound so much more elitist saying you come from The Hague. Go ahead, say it. You'll see what I mean.

Holland is not a country.

Holland used to be considered a country but is now a northern region in the Netherlands. The Netherlands overall border Belgium and Germany and are known for its rampant liberalism, rave parties, tulips, prostitution and fabulous, readily-available weed and hash. It's heaven. But I digress. The Dutch is also a term that can be used to describe people from the Netherlands, and they speak Dutch (also known as Flemish.)

This is why it is all so confusing: you can refer to the Dutch, the Flemish, Holland and the Netherlands and even The Hague and you are referring to mostly the same thing. Ahh the Dutch. Nigel Powers was right when he said to Goldmember:

There's only two things I hate in this world, people who are intolerant of other people's cultures and the Dutch.

Belgium further fucks with your head in a related way.

Belgium-a separate country where half of 'em speak Dutch.

It is a separate country, on the other side of France known for its beer (500 breweries) and chocolate (Godiva) and horrible battles in WWII. People here speak Flemish (Dutch) and French depending upon geographic location. Are you taking notes?

Luxembourg - tiny and snobby like The Hague but actually a country!

Luxembourg is another problem, located between the Netherlands, Belgium and France. People here speak German, French and Luxembourgish -all three required for graduation from secondary school. I can't find anything interesting about this country except that it is small and very catholic and if you are from here, you sound just as snobby as when you say, "I am from The Hague." Go ahead, say it. You'll again see what I mean.

All three countries form the Benelux region (Belgium, Netherlands, Luxembourg.)

Liechtenstein - not nearly as cool but just as small as that other L country.

To further confuse, there is another small , very catholic country, Liechtenstein, that borders Switzerland and Austria. Here they speak German too and have one of the world's highest standards of living. The only interesting thing about the country is they are a tax haven, but saying you are from Liechtenstein doesn't sound quite on par with saying you hail from Luxembourg.

Don't you feel smarter now? I do.

Monday, November 26, 2007

He was a vapid narcissist disguised as a cute but difficult dork

To pick up where I left off.

I did go out that next night, but it was an early one. Met up with friends. Drinks at Sullivan's. Early ride home.

Next night, threw a dinner party for my friend T's b-day, had three people plus me. We drank 7 bottles of wine between the four of us. It was a blast, and I am ever cognizant of the fact that I like drinking at my house/my friend's house more than I like going out.

Went to Philly. The trip I was dreading turned out to be, really, lovely. No drama. Monday night in DC at my ex hubby's - he and his wife were great hosts to mini me and I and broke up the trip nicely. Arrived in Philly the next day at noon. Shopping. My hugely, wonderfully preggers sis looking radiant and sweet - two words I rarely use to describe her. I cooked for 18 people on Thursday and my dad and I pulled off that 25 pound turkey and all the accoutrements quite well.

About 3/4 the way through that cooking, I broke into the Maker's. Had to. All the guests were drinking cosmos and martinins. I felt left out and also stressed. I was fairly lit when I decided to go out with my brother in law and his cousin.

Side note: the cousin was totally eyeing me all day. 5 minutes after arriving my brother in law was like, hey, CT over there digs you. I'm like, ahh okay. He looked cute, but in a boring, I am a sporty guy lunkhead kind of way. And he's like 28. He said I was cute in front of my brother in law and their grandmother, and her response was:

"You don't make enough money to date a woman like that..."

Well said, grandma, well said. I needed to hear that.

This fact, however, did not stop me later. Bourbon and proximity had me kissing him quite passionately AT THE BAR when my brother in law hit the head. Egads! What the hell. He's a former arena football player. He lives in the middle of PA somewhere.

Unfortunately, he likes me. He stayed at my sis' house (on the couch) and we all breakfasted together the next morning. He also watched The Little Mermaid with me and my niece who is 4. This is fine for me to do - I'm a mom, the little girl loves me to watch cartoons with her, I was hungover so 90 minutes on the couch seemed like a might fine way to pass the morning. He sat there and watch the whole thing, Then left. Then called his cousin three times to get my number and see if we were coming out that night. He'd drive 90 minutes to hang out with us.

That's not the end. Many texts. Several messages on MySpace. Oy Vey! I think we'll call him Arena Football.

Got a nice text exchange with Mr MLB on turkey day. Then he asked me out for Sat night but alas I wasn't back in town.

Got a nice text from Pirate Guy/Prison Break - finally - on turkey day. Then I got one on MySpace today. Game back on?

Concert boy asked me to a hockey game during last week but alas again I wasn't here. He asked me out while I was up in Philly for a game coming up this Friday. We're set for that. Then he texted me a bunch today. Then he called. He played the piano over the phone to me. Hmm. He's stepped up, perhaps? We'll see.

Writer boy from NYC called last night. Wanting to talk, wanting to share turkey day stories. We couldn't connect - I couldn't talk when he called and then he was out with friends. Text at end of the night that said:

Talk tomorrow? 'Night lovely...

To wrap things up, the quote in the title is from, of all things, the Grey's Anatomy episode last week. The real quote was:

My ex girlfriend was a vapid narcissist disguised as a nice girl.

I changed it, ever so slightly, because it fits so well as a description of jackass of all trades. But I don't really need to explain that to any of you.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Pre Holiday Blues

I don't know why this week has been so hard on me...



I think its three things:




  1. My impending birthday (inherently depressing, and last year was the beginning of getting back together with the lame ass ex...I could have done without the last year)

  2. More research into my hearing loss (re-visiting my very limited options and getting devastated over this all over again)

  3. Visiting my family in Philly next week (my mother hates when I am single and actually liked my ex; I don't have the heart to tell her the things that everybody else knows about him...my father knows little of the details about him but doesn't like him at all)

So I haven't been writing. Anything. I've done more research for my book (re watching The War, spending way too much time on the Military Channel) but haven't written any more chapters or outlines. I have been working. And smoking. And coaching gymnastics. I didn't even go out last weekend. At all.


But I digress. The real reason the three to four of you out there that read this is for the updates.

Last Thursday night I went out and Pirate Boy/Prison Break came with us. Fun. Hibernian. Red Room. Amra. Weirdo old guys hitting on me and my friend J and Prison Break was busy fending them off. He seemed to like it. We got dropped off at our cars and I tried to beg off kissing him (as I had a cold and told him so) and he insisted on kissing me. It was good. Really nice.

I promptly got very sick the next morning when my cold took a turn towards sinus infection.

Perhaps the same thing happened to him, or he got cold feet b/c his divorce isn't final, or he doesn't like me. Regardless, its been cricket city from him. For a whole week. No texting. No MySpacing. No email. Nada.

So Friday. Went to the Dr. Did not go out. Thought I would rest up for my date on Sat. with Concert Boy for the UNC/NCSU game. Told him Friday night, yeah, I'm getting better. Tomorrow will be fine.

Oh no. Tomorrow was not fine. I woke up Saturday morning with a pounding headache, a crusty nose, a rattling chest, and my sinuses were so infected that my teeth hurt. Had to call and cancel. I sounded like Bea Arthur/Brenda Vaccaro calling him, and he was gracious about it. He checked in with me several times, through calls and texts. Attentive. I liked it.

Saturday night. Feeling better. Out to dinner with my friend J and her daughter. Text from Mr. MLB.

"Whatcha up to tonite..."

Now, I'm not gonna tell him that I'll most likely curl up with Hitchens and read all night. No. Gonna make him think I am the busy girl that I usually am.

"Going downtown with friends"

And his response:

"When you gonna come pick me up?"

And I said:

"Already downtown. You gotta give me some warning..."

And he said, "Tell your boyfriend I'm coming to hang out tonite..."

So my response was, truthfully:

"No boyfriend here. No worries on that one..."

And he said:

"Well I guess I'm just gonna have to say you have fun tonite since you are already out...ttyl"

And that was it. For Saturday.

Sunday, the text started again. He wanted advice on what car to buy for himself that week. The choices he gave me (as he said he wanted a "lady's opinion") were:

Escalade

Hummer

Range Rover

So, of course, I was honest but trying to be funny.

"Escalade rides nice but is so played out. Hummer's seem like they are driven by dorky corporate white guys with something to prove. Range rover just says, I have 4wd and the Queen owns one as well..."

He says he's going with Range Rover.

The day goes by, and I get a Facebook invite from him. I had just joined Facebook last week, so I thought that was funny. He created his profile that day, and it actually had his real occupation on it. So, with that, he was telling me: Lady! I play pro ball here. Look at me!

We email a few times that night. Overall, a lot of activity. He asked me to get some thing to eat that night, but I was busy and told him so.

He asked me that same question on Wednesday and Thursday nights. Both nights I was like no, can't (Wed I had a business dinner at the Umstead and Thursday I was just tired) because it was too last minute. He's in Houston this weekend, and before he left, told me he wishes I was coming with him. All I said to that was, yeah, we'd tear up that town. Maybe next time.

I am actually going to have to go out with him soon, last minute ask or not. I've never dated a pro athelete, and never had me some FLAY VAH either. I'd like to cross both those off the list.

So Concert Boy sends me pics from the game. The story with him is he gave his reg tickets to his friends, and bought special, 47 yard line, 4 rows up from the Carolina Bench (and he a wolfpacker, no less) for me and him. Ugh. Special seats for me. Very nice. He was gracious about it.

I still think, however, that we are each other's backburner person. He's at a wedding this weekend. No one goes to weddings alone.

That's all I got, but I'm going out tomorrow night. More stories to come.



Thursday, November 08, 2007

FLAY-VAH!

That's totally what I am looking for.

FLAY-VAH.

An interested party has confirmed that Mr. MLB is totally cute. He does not, however, play this position below:







Thanks, Hospital Diva, for the email. You're friend is right. Glad you are conspicuously Google-ing Mr. MLB for me and totally approve. I appreciate the thumbs up, and the readers probably like that you've verfied his delish status.

And he did indeed have some facial hair going when I met him at the airport...

Not a womb broom, like NYC Writer, but facial hair nonetheless.

FLAY-VAH.

Hate that I didn't see him last night. We'll see if anything comes of this. And if it doesn't, so what? I've had fun thinking about it.

He actually used "loins" in a sentence.

Since I last wrote, the cold I have, which previously was simmering around in my body, decided to kick it up a notch and kick my ass. Couple that with work and teaching the rugrats gymnastics two nights a week, I'm exhausted.

Good news on the gymnastics is that I worked the full month of Oct, and even with taking off an hour on Halloween, my Nov. bill for tuition for mini-me was incredibly cheaper. 1/3 cheaper. Whoohoo. That four hours a week I put in is totally worth it to not pay over $300 every month.

And then, of course, there are the boys.

Sunday. I was online briefly, and concert boy sent me an IM. He had just finished his half marathon, and wanted to see if I wanted to go to the UNC/NCSU game the next Saturday. Hmmm. He's learning. Got me 6 days in advance. Whoohoo. Said yes, but told him I'm wearing blue this time and won't be rooting for the pack. He agreed but said I couldn't be obnoxious or his friends would ban me. (I'm worried...)

Didn't hear anything from Mr. MLB til Monday. Asked me to watch Monday Night Football, but I was hosting the jeans/cocktail party. We texted back and forth several times, and I told him I could maybe do something later in the week. He said, maybe Wednesday...and we left it at that

Prison Break guy was out of town this weekend and returned Monday afternoon. Asked me out, via email, on Monday night (around the same time I was texting, from the party, with Mr. MLB. Is there some sort of radar for this shit? I go through hours and hours with no emails, no texts, then bam they all arrive or contact me at the same time. But I digress...) for Thursday or Friday night.

Tuesday. My shit day at work. Had made plans to go out on Tuesday night with Rock Star, Philly Girl, T, Kirsten Dunst look alike girl, and a few other randoms for a random fun Tuesday night. Only three of us ended up meeting up - me, Philly and T. There was some crazy, funny drama at Ral Times where Philly Girl and Militant (remember her - read past posts) ran into each other and compared notes a bit as to what N the ex has been saying to them. Wow. I would not want to be in his shoes this week, that's all I can say. Karma is kicking him big time in the ass right now, and he's realizing how very small out town is. Meanwhile, T and I are just laughing about it.

Fun Girl btw is in study mode and is absent from our fun as of late.

While out and about with all the dramarama, I got a random text from Mr. MLB saying: "Hope you had a great day..." Hmm. We texted a bit. Tentatively made a date for Wednesday night for Tapas.

Wednesday. Prison break guy sends a random text saying, hey can we bring along friends when we go out on Thursday night? I text back, sure, I'll start rounding up the troops. I think to myself, hmm, he's wanting to keep it casual, our last date was one on one and he's worried about two of those in a row. Whatever, don't care, invited friends along (both mutual and one's he doesn't know) and he did the same and we'll hang. I've got patience for this one.

Around noon, Mr. MLB says, sorry, can't make it afterall. We're trying to reschedule now. Disappointed but knew it was tentative anyway.

Mr. Concert guy asks me to meet him at Crowleys. I don't b/c I don't feel well enough after the dinner I had with one of my friends at the Angus Barn.

I get an email from NYC writer guy last night, asking me to visit or for him to come down here. I wrote back saying I miss Macdougal Street. He wrote, and I quote:

And Macdougal extends its invitation to you, as before. It enjoyed your visit. As did my liver. And my loft. And my loins, sewn drunk and still smiling with memories of feet on the ceiling, the curve of your hip asleep, and not nearly enough...
Well, you get it...

Yup. I got it. He used loins in a sentence and managed to put a smile on my face as I fell asleep last night.

Monday, November 05, 2007

Too much enjoyment from MySpace

Mini me's been gone for a few days (fall break) so I've been out and about. Updates?

Concert boy, post hook up, has asked me to two hockey games and I've had to turn him down twice b/c of other plans. And just when I thought, man he's falling off the list, he asks me to next Saturday's NCSU game against UNC. It's UNC - I gotta go!


Prison Break guy went to Florida last Thursday for a boys weekend. Got some emails right up until he left. Woke up this morning with an alert on my Blackberry ("prison break guy has left you a comment on MySpace") and I get all excited. Dork. I go and look, and its one of those phishing comments for a Macy's card. Not a real comment. Felt dumb for being so excited. Just got over it and decided to blog.


Punk boy sent a random Happy Halloween comment to me - the Misfits playing a song he found off of YouTube- random but nonetheless brightened my day. Again, I'm a dork.


N the ex. Still up to his confusing tricks with the women in his life. Whatever, I've said my peace to him. We had a boys night out on Friday that was fun but low-key. But Dos Taquitos downtown sucks in terms of portions and no chips/salsa.


Met a new guy in the airport Friday. When I was dropping off mini-me for her trip to DC, he was there taking his four year old back to Philly and then turning around and coming back here on the next flight. We've emailed and exchanged numbers, but that's about it. The thing is, he didn't say what he does...just that he lives here only four months out of the year and also lived in Atlanta for college (we bonded over stories about kids and Atlanta).


So who works 8 months out of the year. Some consultants. College professors. And MLB players.


Yup, that's right. He's number 3 of that list, found him via a few snippets of info (first name, college, and the fact that he lived in NYC for 4 years) and confimed it via photo on a team roster. Said roster also confirmed him as single. He's cute, has probably 1-2 seasons left in his career. Plays for a shitty team that I used to love growing up. I had no idea who he was when we were talking in the airport. He was a cute dad with an adorable 4 year old. He lives in N. Raleigh, about 4 miles from me. We'll see where this one goes...


I should try baseball.

Jeans party tonite. Less than 1 month til my b-day. Attorney girl still very pregnant and due in the next three weeks.


And, dear readers, haven't I done a good job of washing that dickwit right outta my hair??? It's been over 4 months. And I still think he's the biggest ass.