and if you haven’t read this by now you either don’t work in finance or live under a rock or some combination of the two…
The Ex-Banker Living on Alcohol, Hook-ups, and Unemployment…
ummm wow. now here is the thing, i would love to be all self-righteous and judgmental and rant about how inappropriate this girl’s behavior is, but at the end of the day i must own up to the fact that if i wanted to behave in this fashion, considering my posse of guy and girl friends, it probably wouldn’t actually be all that challenging. i’ve been to the majority of those venues, i’ve dropped a drunk text or two (or ten), i drink for free frequently, and i’ve definitely eaten for free at the cost of some other girl’s date who wasn’t attractive at all. there is clearly some serious misbehavior in this piece that i wouldn’t touch, but again if i wanted to it just wouldn’t be that difficult. furthermore, as much as i am for personal responsibility, there is a part of me that feels that nyc should take some responsibility for her behavior. at the end of the day we live in a city that doesn’t just enable, but it encourages this kind of batshit crazy routine. this place is all about being out of control as often as possible regardless of the amount or lack of money in your bank account so god bless her for making the most out of her limited resources.
my only real criticisms are as follows: if you’re partying that much, you should probably do a better job of defining that line in the sand between acceptable and blackout at some point (you’re not in college anymore kid) and you should have developed a system for hangover management by now. there should be a game plan for hangover prevention and a system of post-binge drinking practices in place so you can sort of function like a normal person and find a fucking job.
good luck darling.
So I think I may have rejected the first date I’ve been asked on all summer which makes me a real LOSER.
The trick here is that the date was offered in Aspen, Colorado. The dude has an insane travel schedule and absent potentially being able to take me to the US Open (yes my life is that hard), he likely will not be able to see me for a few weeks, but has business meetings and I believe a residence in Aspen, so he could take me to dinner out there? This sounds a bit more BSC (batshit crazy) than it actually is, because when he is going to be out there my godparents are going to be out there as well and that was sort of how the invite came up. He would obviously book everything, pay for everything, and I just need to show up at the airport on time-which is actually kind of a struggle for me. No dates all summer and then a dude who wants to fly me out to Aspen for a first date. When did dating become so complicated and absurd? When I was fourteen (barely) and Keith Riggio asked me out he wrote me a note in neon green pen, that was passed to me via mutual friend, that said, “Do you want to go out?” I had the option of circling either yes, no, or maybe. Life was so much easier in 1997.
Who am I and how has my life become such a joke? I respectfully declined the generous invitation because having only had two one-hour long conversations with the guy I just didn’t think flying out to Aspen to hangout with him at the Snowmass Club would be the best idea in the history of the world, so I guess I’m settling for either the US Open or continued celibacy and spinsterhood.
PS-I’m pretty sure in addition to showing up, I would also have been expected to put out which just isn’t something classy girls do on a first date.
“A girl should always be two things: classy and fabulous”
- Coco Chanel
so i’m presently in physical therapy for two injuries primarily because i am a fool. one is pretty minor and the other is this ankle nonsense, that is taking wayyyyy longer than expected to fix itself and i am not happy. i am doing my exercises, i am following the RICE theory that every kid who was an athlete in high school was forced to follow at some point (Rest Ice Compression Elevation-I am icing and elevating as I type:) and yet it is still kind of a mess. i am not pleased. i have neither the time or the patience for this kind of nonsense and today, when i remind my pt that i’m bound for a combination trip next friday to athens, istabnbul, and mykonos where i’m not only in a wedding, but also in a wedding in a cavalli dress. i told her i needed to be ready for serious walking around in 2.5 weeks, 2.5 weeks ago, and heels by july fourth weekend-wedding day.
today, i explain to her that this past weekend even though i stayed off the ankle, life was kinda rough. it is sort of swollen and disgusting looking and i was sent for x-rays today, and there are no broken bones, but nonetheless, i was concerned about my trip. her suggestion was the following: you should probably start wearing a compression stocking. immediate image that flashes through my mind is something along the lines of an old lady limping around with poorly dyed hair and stockings like these:
is she serious? she wants me to wear that shit not only in nyc (on only one of my legs) but also to the acropolis?? what??
i don’t even have an clean pant suits right now as i’ve been too busy with my cleanse to go the cleaners so until i do there is no way in hell that is happening and i’m not sure it is going to happen at all. when my mother was dying she wouldn’t have approved of something that ugly no matter how much it may have helped her. the pain medication that helped to prolong her life, was connected via iv to a fanny pack and 90% of the time she hid it in a purse or at least tried to wear it as a purse and not as a fanny pack.
it was bad enough when the pt suggested that i wear skechers (what is this junior high??), but compression stockings? on a 26 year old (a black 26 year old) with pretty solid legs absent the whole ankle issue?? that is officially batshit crazy and it certainly isn’t going to help me win any dates.
i’m thinking crutches would be a way better accessory for this whole situation…
batshit crazy has rapidly become one of my favorite words in the world. i use it quite often, because as it turns out a number of people fall into the batshit crazy category.
according to urban dictionary, batshit crazy is defined as, a synonym for Tom Cruise, or more specifically, speech or behavior that is over the top, unhinged, self-destructive, or a threat to others. batshit crazy can be a temporary or prolonged condition and when temporary can oftentimes be seen as a side effect of the drinking process. when someone is over the top intoxicated, the odds of them becoming batshit crazy increase exponentially. some charactaristics of a batshit crazy individual include the following:
- you interrupt yourself (which means 90% of the time you aren’t making any sense to those around you)
- your perception of reality does not match up with anyone else who was involved in the exact same situation as you (aka delusional)
- you routinely yell at people/are unable to control the volume of your voice
- you cry far too often over absolutely nothing that actually matters (this is a particularly serious concern if you are a dude)
- your friends call you special, but they have all decided a long time ago that special is a synonym for batshit crazy
- your behavior is totally erratic and unpredictable and borders on something that would require serious medical attention… (see Tom Cruse reference above)
- you talk about yourself in the third person
- you refer to yourself as “his holiness” or “her majesty” or some such nonsense
- you have crazy eyes (this is a tell tale sign of batshit crazy…see below)
- life is basically one giant panic attack
i am sure this could become a much longer list (please email me with suggestions: marisa.lee@thepinkagenda.org) and we all have friends who either are batshit crazy or at some point or another have become batshit crazy. i felt a need to provide some sort of explanation of batshit crazy, because this cleanse may make me batshit crazy and i just thought i should warn people before it happens…
