Underwear Pirates of the Caribbean

What screams "summer" more than a relaxing vacay? I mean I can't think of anything. Which is exaclty why Sadie decided to sail away for a week in the lovely isles of the caribbean. *cough cough* lucky bitch *cough cough* Hot pool boys to bring your drinks and endless cheesy onboard discos - who wouldn't be super jeal? So since they oushed away from shore, Sadie kept running into this group of 3 guys always making glancing eye contact with one particular guy of the group. Tan, tall and spikey dirrty blond hair. In the first couple days nothing every came of Boat Boy, so when in port one day at St. Lucia, Sadie ventured off the boat to find herself a native hottie. She walked around the outdoor market, and wouldn't you know it there was Boat Boy exploring the market with his two buddies. This time the two not only made steamy eye contact, but they actually exchanged real words too. woot woot. The groups decided to soak up island culture together and for the rest of the day the foursome was inseperable (save for the times when Boat Boy and Sadie would sneak off on their own). After a dinner on the island they all headed back to the ship. And though sadie may have left her cabin by herself this smorning, she certainly didn't return to it by her lonesome.

What could be better than having a fabulous day in paradise with someone like Boat Boy and then an even better evening to cap things off. However after waking up the next morning, Sade realized one very important piece of her last night's ensemble was missing - her underwear. And i'm not talking oh i just misplaced them in the craziness of last night-kind of missing. I'm talking, like they're actually gone. Did Boat Boy seriously steal Sadie's knickers? At first she was like, well, umm ok I guess it's kinda of like a souvenir, you know like one of those gingantic suckers from Disneyland. But the mor she thought about i the more it pissed her off. what made him think he could steal her shit? She confronted him about but he played dumb (it was a real strech for him). So instead of giving up, Sadie decided to take action. Using her stalking abilities (which she has perfected over the years by way of Facebook) SHe found the perfect opportunity, snuck into the boys room, rummaged around, and finally found her underwear packed neatly in Boat Boy's suitcase - soooo not ok. Sadie took back what was rightfully her and sauntered out of thier room - yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for her!

Lucky Number 17

Whoa, finally back from*achem* sabbatical *achem* in Rome, and let me tell you do I have dish for you. I know the withdrawl has been painful, like when someone pries the crack pipe out of Amy Winehouse's hands for a whole hour and a half - brutal. Anyhoo, I think I last left ya'll hanging on whether Jordan would get her nannying job - and I'm here to say, move over Julie Andrews, there's a new nanny in town. That's right, with a little of her wit and some clever maneuvering, Jordan passed her drug test with flying colors. I had faith in you all along, Jord (god help the children)! With a good solid month under her belt, Jord's finally got this thing down - Mommy and Daddy coulnd't be less attentive to the kids, little Johnny worships the ground she walks on, and Jord's just recently met the family's illusive (aka away at an east coast preppy boarding school) 17 year old son. Now is it just me or have 17 year olds gotten way hotter since I was in high school? After having brutally rebuffed several of 17's advances, I think these must have been the very same thoughts going through Jordan's head, when she finally hooked up with him in the study of the kid's house. How very Atonement of them.

With Mommy and Daddy on vacation and little Johnny already all tucked in, who could blame 17 for wanting to spend his Saturday night hitting the books instead of hanging out with his little friends. I could take this whole teacher-student pun, analogy thingy a long way - believe me - but I'll spare you. Oh, Jord...what are we going to do with you? I hope 17 didn't leave your babysitting money on the nightstand. Well, it's only a matter of time before Jord's nanny diary is found and creates some good ole fashioned nanny drama. Till then...

The Nanny Diaries

Spotted: Jordan doing the snatch and grab at the drug store in the *achem* exam aisle, shall we say. Such a conundrum – if one more person asks me what they should do when they really want a job but it requires a drug test, and they maybe, quite possibly, have traces of coke in their system….I’m telling ya, if I had a nickel….. So, see Jordan was offered a position as a nanny for a really wealthy family; she thought she could make a few extra bucks during the day when she’s not playing. The catch, the fam of course wants a drug test, because they don’t want any crazies raising up little 8 year old Johnny. Candidate must have safe car in excellent condition, a bachelor’s degree (or higher), multi-tasking abilities, and be very driven. Driven? For what? – to excel in the vast world of child care? Jordan’s responsibilities as nanny would include: dropping off and picking up little Johnny from school, after school activities, playdates, emergency room visits, etc (and yes, it really said ER visits….*curiousface* what kind of weird things does little Johnny get into on a regular basis), preparing an after school snack, helping with homework, picking up dry cleaning, grocery shopping, and other routine duties unable to be carried out by a family member. Yikes, other “routine duties unable to be carried out by a family member”?... hope Jordan gets in writing that her job does not extend into the bedroom when the lady of the house ain’t in the mood to perform certain ‘duties’ for her hubby. Shleping – who knew it was such lucrative work, that’s right, Jord’s prospective new job puts major green in her pocket (or white up her nose) and it also comes with a nice benefit package as well. Ahhh I remember the days when you could just plop your kid down in front of a tv with some Sesame Street to keep them company and they would rear themselves…..no benefits package paid, no nanny drama made. Whether she goes cold turkey, tries to flush out her system, or just tries to fake the thing, let’s see if Jordan can pass the test. She’s always been crafty, that one….what do you think, will ScarJo pass? Cast your vote to the right.

Chanelling Moan-net

Have things gotten a little kinky between Em and straight-laced PH? All signs point to yes, especially given this little piece of evidence left behind; the beginning stages of a nude portrait of Emmerson. I bet things get a pretty hot after hours of all this sketching foreplay. PS, who knew PH was so artsy-fartsy, I mean we all knew Em had a penchant for the canvas but PH? Maybe Em's brush strokes, shall we say, wore off on ol' PH...but really, all kidding aside, the boy's not too shabby. Kudos, PH for not painting by numbers on this one since we know you're pretty much by the book when it comes to everything else. Seems Em's been holding an art studio in her room for some time now - but who do we think initiated these art lessons.....PH? Emmerson? Hmmm....Maybe Em thought she'd spice things up now that all her baby daddy drama is the rear view in an effort to vamp up her relationship. Or could it be that PH wanted to show his sweetie a completely new side of him? PH, were you watching Titanic again? It's anyone's guess really. Anyways this couple's so cute they kind of want to make me vom all over the place. Oh, Em, have you ditched your cynic self and gone over to the REAL dark side? Whatevs - but we do want to see the final product, so get PH and his paints over here ASAP. Art class is in session!

The Wizards of Auss

So as I was brunching at The Griddle with my girls the other day, Jordan and Sadie dished on more than just pancakes bigger than their face - they told me about the two lads they had met the night before at the Mondrian. On a whim they decided to stroll into the hotel and check out its fabulous bar with view to die for. So as the girls were standing poolside a good-looking gent asked Jordan, in his amazing accent, if he was alright sitting where he was (so cute, you know since he wasn't VIP or anything). Let me tell you, it was more than alright, because that meant he was sitting in prime convo proximity to Jordan. Aussie #1 wasted no time in chatting up Jordan, while Aussie #2 slyly moved in on Sadie. Wouldn't you know it, these two wealthy *investmetbankerface*, dashing young men were on holiday and just happened to have two suites in the hotel...hmmm *coincidenceface*? Loads of conversation and an impromptu (fully clothed) dip in the bar's pool later, the clock had already struck 2 am and the bar was closing down. Uh oh, must the girls pull themselves away from their yummy pair of Aussies and take their fabulous selves on home? Nope, that's what hotel rooms are for (how dare you underestimate our girls - even momentarily). Do you think these two ladies would miss a chance to show these boys their lands-down-undah? Up in the elevator the couples went, Sadie with her Aussie and Jordan with hers...one suite, two suite, red suite...sex suite. As my ginormous plate of powdered sugar-dusted pancakes is plopped down in front of me Jordan has what is nothing short of a Pavolovian response, and dishes about Aussie #'1 room. His room was apparently wall to wall mirrors...Jordan must have thought she died and gone to have *cokeface*. Jordan and Sadie insist that both their Aussies were absolute gentlemen (so that's where they're hiding them); and so after their fun-filled night, adding a little roo to their dos [list], the girls made a hop, skip, and a jump down the street to meet me here for an early morning brekkie...with a side of juice.

Baby. Boom.

You can all breathe a sigh of relief my Marnistone faithful. After a visit to her trusty gyno, she informed Emmerson that she is in fact not going to spawn. Dead give away #2 that she wasn't preggers - Em wasn't getting fat. Anyway, now that all this drama is behind her, Em can truly put her little indiscretion behind her and move on to more important things, like what cut bikini she is going to look best in this summer.

Sex and the City

Spotted: frenchie Brigitte slumming it on the Subway.....So as I sit here watching Sex, having recently seen Sex: The Movie, how a propos that I just came back from The City (in which there quite possibly might have been some sex going on...winkyface). Jordan and I met up with one of our favorite Frenchies, Brigitte, as she layed over for a bit in New York on her way back to France. We three girls gallivanted around the city like some other famous foursome (sans the Charlotte in our case) like some whirlwind-four day-all you can eat- city buffet. Our heads hit the pillow ne'er as much as our stilettos hit the pavement. It was a shopping extravaganza from Soho to 5th Avenue (with the occasional touristy stop thrown in every once in a while for kicks). But as soon as the sun set, the gloves came off (as well as a few other articles of clothing) as we three wined and dined like it was our job - Lotus, Underbar, Stanton Social, Bed....but what happens when you leave the island and go exploring "trendy" Brooklyn at 1 am? A whole mess of trouble - or a night to remember depending on how you look at it (aka returning to Manhattan at 1:20). At Brooklyn's swankiest set, Brigitte came on a little too strong to a certain hottie who definitely had a girlfriend...whom, I might add, was definitely at the bar and caught Brigitte making out with said hottie. Girlfriend didn't take it too well and cat calls resounded as things between the two ladies got physical (slapfight!). So shortly thereafter we were abruptly "dismissed" from the bar andwe returned in about 2.2 to Manhattan (please, skinny hipster bartender's threats about calling the cops were tots empty). But after hailing what was apparently the only cab left in the city without a credit card machine we were forced to return via Subway (slummingitface). How do I put this nicely?, Brigitte don't do subways. So not without some kicking and screaming we took our fabulous selves under ground (perhaps this unforeseen cost is why true New Yorkers rarely venture outside Manhattan....just a thought). Ahh, but all was not for naught, my friends. It was as if by some divine intervention we were meant to take the subway because as we emerged from the train, what was right by the station but a cute little lounge, frequented by a group of even cuter men (can you say fleet week?) And let's just say the bounties of the sea were plentiful for all. Did I mention this was just day 1?....sailors, and investment bankers, and firemen - oh my!

Ohhhhh baby, baby...

Spotted: Emmerson snuggling up to some very personal feminine products. Could Em really be preggers?!? And if so, whose little bastard child is it – PH or Concert Boy? Yikes. Mommy and Daddy would be so proud. It's been about a month since Em's fateful one minute-stand with the infamous Concert Boy. Our spy at CVS says Em was doing some serious deliberating over the preggers tests. But in the end, looks like she made a good choice – I mean it's not EPT but is error proof-ness really all that important when it comes to finding out if you're about to spawn with some Frat Boy delinquent? Nah. Clearly one test is not enough for such a life changing possibility, so we all strapped in the car and jetted over to Costco where you can buy preggers tests buy the truck-load (you know, for those really slutty girls). Ahhh, Costco, god bless…what would the tartish world do without you? After peeing on about 10 different sticks, Em's results were still inconclusive. Guess this means a stirrup party is on the horizon….can't wait! We're peeing our pants in excitement. Bets are being taken on the results – get in while the gettin's still good. No matter whose baby it is, we say tell PH it's his, Em (can you say shotgun wedding?). I mean really, ya'll, shot gun weddings are so en vogue (echem, Mariah). Even if it is Concert Boy's, just keep that your dirty little secret (que the music). Anyhoozle…that's it for me this time around. Peace out….I'll be back soon to let you know if Em's in the family way.

Menage's Menage

This picture gives a whole new meaning to term, safe streets. So how many tries does it take to strap one on? - that's the question de jour. A virtual hail storm of condoms cascaded down on to Fountain last night (this is why people in L.A. don’t walk) as Menage' got freaky on her balcony with a college ex AND a charming Brit journalist she picked up at Bar Lubitsch. Menage' and her favorite lu-bitches hit the town hard at L.A.'s trendiest ruskie bar. As the saying goes when in Rome… so when in Russia, the girls felt it their duty to appropriately honor Mother Russia by throwing back some Stoli. The girls did mommy proud as they toasted her several times. As the music started bumpin the girls migrated to the back half of the bar to get their grove on because they only had 4 minutes to save the world (fricky fricky). Jordan made a bee line to say “Hi” to her friend, the DJ and Menage’, who had already made plans to meet up with College Boy later that night, set her eyes on the Charming Brit with about only a minute and a half to save the world. Things got pretty hot on the dance floor and as Sadie, Jordan, and Emmerson closed down the bar, Menage’ found her way back home with the Brit.

There, already waiting (and already a little toasted) on her steps was College Boy, who was none-to-happy to see Mr. Brit in tow. But he started singing a different tune as soon as Menage’ grabbed him by the collar and wrangled both men inside her building. Menage’s au trios quickly moved on to the balcony for a little “air and convo” and quickly down-shifted into a make out sesh with both boys. Before you could say “dos v’danya” the condoms were flying (literally), because let’s just say – though all were sufficiently under the influence - hard alcohol is a misnomer *winkypunface*. After about as many attempts to get suited up as LiLo takes to pass her breathalyzer before starting her car, Menage nearly lost interest….but fortunately for this French, her letter was delivered on time. Sorry, maybe that one was over your head – google, lu-bitches!. Au revoir, dos v’danya, and goodbye, marnistone…..out.

Sex, Drugs, and Rock 'n Roll

Mirror, mirror on the table who’s the fairest of them all? Well, Snow White, of course. Spotted: Jordan sitting across the table from some coke classic (and I don’t mean the beverage, people). So is the cliché true?, let’s see … Keth Richards – check. Jimi Hendrix – check. Sid Vicious – check. And our faves, Amy – check. Yup, looks like it. Now we’re not going to make any snap judgments (yes we are, who are we kidding), but is dear Jordan enjoying the coke side of life? Well that ain’t sugar on the table, honey (see above). Taken at a fabu Hollywood party in The Hills, party goers wasted no time before pulling out their full on coke kit (razor blades included!) and really getting the party started. What could be better than an open bar on a terrace over-looking the valley (the little people) and some party favors inside, upstairs. Jordan was seen getting her groove on till the wee hours of the morning, even giving a little display of her drumming abilities for all the party peeps with the house owner’s kit. After which she was spotted leaving in a black Cayenne with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. And why always a mirror? I don’t get it, do people have to look at themselves while they cut lines – like, ooo, I’m so pretty all coked out. Idk, Jord, maybe you and Menage’ should become besties (cokedoutface). She can prob give you some helpful hints (or at least some good place to score ;)). Do you want me to book you a room at Promises now or later?..cuz like, I hear like it’s beautiful there. Say hi to LiLo for me. We still love you even if you are our little closet coke head. Peace out. Come back soon..mwah.

Coachella Fellas

So all the gals came together at Asia de Cuba for some some really over-priced, pretentious - yet pretty - food, and to rehash Coachella stories, of course. All of us were in attendance including two of our favorite Frenchies, Brigitte and Menage'. So a couple cocktails into it the pesto shrimp finally arrives and the story telling is in full swing. With a reservation at the fancy La Quinta resort, Jordan and Sadie cut out early on Friday to get their VIP on at Coachella-ella-ella. After a an evening of concerts in the desert heat, the girls were ready to get back to the hotel and change to head out to Palm Springs for the big T-Mobile bash (intense heat+alcohol+no water+no sleep = .....well one freaking amazing weekend of course). But how to get back to the hotel?, they got a ride with some "friends" to the grounds and somewhere along the way lost them - and that's a looong walk back, my friends. So taking a page out of Sadie's handbook, Jordan decides that they're going to hitch a ride back. From that wise sage Sadie, Jordan learned that you only show a little leg for Range Rovers (preferably black ones, but any color is ultimately ok). Right?, any one who drives a Range has to be trustworthy - turns out, yeah! and super hot. So anyway, amazingly, Mark and Brad were also headed back to the La Quinta *coicnidenceface* and were more than willing to give the girls a lift. While Sadie went in to shower, Mark and Jordan got to "talking" in their room, but the conversation ended just in time for all to head off to the T Mobile bash.

Now at this point in the story, we're well into our entrees and Menage' excuses herself from the table, presumably to go shoot up in the bathroom- cuz well, that's Manage, but we love her despite her Amy Winehouse tendencies. You know the difference between her and Amy?... Menage' make smack look good ;) As soon as Menage' returns, Jordan can't wait to dish about how Sadie made besties with Brandon Boyd over the weekend. They first met at the party and then ran into each other in VIP again on Saturday because we all know VIP is one incestuous pool of.....incest, I'm not gonna lie. It's like 6 degrees of separation but with chlamydia. Its like the regular version of the game, but like, way more fun. Let's just say Brandon got familiar with Sadie's incubus. So later Saturday night Jordan made it a point to attend the concert of, a certain hottie, let's call him Schnark Schnonson (kinda British, kinda amazing, kinda super hot). So the girls made camp off to the side of the stage just in eye shot of Mr. Schnonson. Part way through his set, they realized Schnark kept looking over in their general vicinity...hmm. For the rest of the show, his cute little head would cock, ever-so-slightly, to take a glimpse over stage left. Was it a tick? Does Schnark have tourettes? My sources tell me negative....and here's why. After his set, the girls went for some water (and by water I mean vodka) in VIP - and who was there, but none other than the yummy Mr. Schnonson. Jordan schmoozed her fellow J so good, that he didn't know what hit him - they talked music, London, and well, I don't really care what else because after that stint in VIP Schnark and Jord were inseparable. It was a memorable weekend to be sure...and what lessons do we learn from Coachella? 1) Strap on a guitar and you're sure to get the ladies...2) A liquid diet in the desert sun is no bueno....and 3) flying pigs don't get that far (look it up, kids). All I have to say is I sure hope Jordan told Schnark to tell Amy, to Just Say No!

Shoots and Ladders

Someone once told me that the dynamic between guys and girls can be explained simply by Shoots and Ladders. Nowthis person gave me entry into the male psyche (scary stuff) which was only fleeting but boy, have his words hit home with each passing day. Ok, so now to the good stuff, this wise sage explained to me that women have 2 ladders - a friend one and a more-than-friends one (with each rung representing the level of intensity to which they want to be your friend slash rip your clothes off). Goys, however, have 1 ladder - "even firemen?", I asked - no, not really I didn't. So this 1 ladder is a more-than-friends ladder, made up only of girls with whom they want to hook up. Oh guys, sooo complex... simply put: girls can be friends with guys, while guys, well they'll only acknowledge you if they want to see you naked. Guys don't do friends (seriously, the show should have been called "F*ck Buddies", right, with all the hooking up...guess that didn't fly so well with the network). So just like when a negative number is multiplied by a positive one you [sometimes, thanks Mean Girls] or always get a negative one, you never get a friendhship when you multiply a girl and a guy together (the exception being a straight women and a gay man). I love my math analogies. Anyhoo, so does that mean "When Harry Met Sally" really is the wisest movie of all time? Damn, I wish someone could have told me that when I was like 7 and first saw the movie - would have saved me sooo much trouble.

So these are the things running through my head when Sadie says she was just trying to be nice and friendly to Awkward Boys. RHR somehow made his way over to our full apartment the other night, sitting himself down next to Sadie while we watched some TV. So too-cool-for-school RHR is so not interested in the tube and asks Sadie if she's got anything and I quote "more interesting in her room?" Really, RHR? Are we 12, is this the first time you've ever been around a girl you had a crush on? Maybe you should have just come over wearing a shirt saying "Hey, Sadie, can I get in your pants?" So little effort, finesse, or originality put into this one RHR; so Sadie's all like no, not really, a TV, a bed, and a computer. Suck on that! So then, like the second I leave the room RHR makes his move, he leans in and plants one on Sadie before she can duck and dodge. Awkward boy pulls back and stares in for, like, ever. And then, he goes in for the kill again. Oh no, boy. Not this time - so what does Sadie do? She uses one of the oldest tricks in the book - not not "Ive got herpes" but close, she told him "it's getting late". So RHR sees himself out but not before turning awkwardly at the door and staring one last time. Sadie may have been high on his ladder but she definitely wanted off, asap (see above picture).

Why are guys so myopic, why is friendship or even the thought that other people (ie women) might only be thinking friends so foreign? - are they really that self-obsessed and big headed? You ruin it it for everyone, guys. Shit, gurl! Or in this case - shoots, gurl!

Blame the MGMT

Spotted: Emmerson - going at it with someone who is totally not P-H. Ahh...the joys of camera phones. A happy Passover to you all....I'm coming to you with a very special update indeed, because just as our ancestors were fleeing Egypt, Emmerson is fleeing her fledgling relationship with P-H. I guess her fear (and achem, alcohol) finally got to her. As seen above, these two were making some beautiful music of their own at the MGMT concert this weekend as they went at it hardcore amongst the throngs of scantily clad, moshy young folks (talking 'bout the young style). Oh, Emmerson...does this mean you really are eager to move past sweet-as-pie P-H, or are you just getting it out of your system before you (dare I say the word) commit? All bets are on the latter, especially given recent behavior around P-H - but still, we didn't think you had it in you (insert dirty pun here). On a scale of 1-10 I'm gonna say that Concert Boy was a fairly good kisser and ranked around an 8. I mean an A+ to be sure for enthusiasm and vigor - by the looks of things you could have easily sustained whiplash from that encounter. Kudos for being so gung-ho and really going for it. You gung-ho! So...to tell P-H, or not to tell P-H of your momentary, and I do mean momentary (QLY) infidelity? Though I'm usually about the truth, in this case I have to say that ignorance is bliss for little P-H - especially since you're only going to be running back to his J-Crew arms this week...and most likely be there for some time to come. All I have to say is good thing he didn't accept your pathetic attempt at an invitation to the concert. Can you imagine intoxicated Emmerson getting freaky with Concert Boy right in front of P-H's eyes? Now that's a level of awkwardness which is uncharted territory even to Awkward Boys. Peace out, here's to hoping Em can put this little indiscretions behind her...

Awkward Boys

Are people born this way, do they acquire this trait over time after several traumatic interactions with other beings of the human race? Why are people, as like to call them, SA (Socially Awkward)? And most importantly do 2 SA people make a tots normal interaction (like ugly people making pretty kids), or a painfully, tooth-pullingly awkward one? Those times when you’re walking along and there’s a person walking towards you and you go to the right to avoide them – but then they also go that direction, and then there’s a dash the other way – but that’s what they also do. Imagine that over and voer and over again….with the same person. All things that I have been pondering the last few months as I and my posse have constantly been running into Awkward Neighbors. But after last night’s episode, I have decided this issue needs to be brought to the forefront. These various encounters I can liken to hmmm…lets go with, a see-saw. Most of the time it’s excruciatingly awkward encounter in the parking garage (hi, I’m right behind you, hold the door open for me) or, long silences and then awkward exits from the elevator (umm…don’t just stand there right in front of me blocking the door). Oh and how is it that they make you feel like an ass for asking for your plate back that they borrowed and have had for a month. It’s really an art form. Kudos, guys. But then there is the occasional normal interaction (picking up something I dropped, a smooth transition into a normal, everyday exchange of pleasantries). So what do I make of these gents? And how is it that ALL of them are this SA. Is it contagious and did they pass it on to one another when they moved in together like, Mono…or you know, VD? And would you believe that they’re this bad at human interaction and yet one of them actually has a girlfriend. But my favorite parts, are the seriously awk hangout sessions that take place. Like RHR coming to our apartment, hanging in our doorway for a few moments, and then coming in and making himself at home while we all make dinner. It’ kind of like when you’re at the zoo and you’re watching this poor large animal meander aimlessly around in this small, unnatural setting. That’s mostly what’s its like to watch the Awk Neighbors.

But the latest and greatest adventures in awkwardness came the other night when Sadie had to borrow something from them and poor little RHR was sitting in the darkness of his apartment finishing up a movie. – alone. “D…do you – maybe you wanna – you can hang out if you want”. T-t-t-today, Junior! Spit it out SA one. So and “Um, that’s cool” and a quick return home later, Sadie receives a text to come hang out…. With that, Sadie returns to hang with RHR. First, he gives her an awkward tour of the apartment she’s already been to, then, a little tickling of the ivories, and finally some chatting infused with really long silences while he lays on his bed. So is this like a date, RHR, are you trying to make a move? Cuz if you are, this is taking a really long time and you suck at it ps, and if you aren’t then again, this is just a really awkward situation with Sadie watching you lay on your bed, while she tries to avoid seriously uncomfortable silences. I mean really, what could be more misleading and awkward then a conversation that takes place on a bed (I mean really people, we’re not at a night club here). What happens though when an empty apartment quickly turns into one full of SA boys, after all the roomies return home? RHR jokes to Sadie about how he has to stop putting the moves on her….really? (Sadie, did you lead him on? – you vixen, you) That requires a courtesy –but really I’m a little scared and confused-laugh. It goes something likes this….. “hehe” (cue the slight smile while you look at RHR, after which the eyes dart around for the nearest exits). Well, now that we’re all “friends”, I’m sure there weill plenty more awkward encounters with the SA boys.

A family Affair

Tried and true signs you're somebody's girlfriend: 1. They stop dating other people and only date you 2. They take you out to a dinner with all their other friend-couples and last but not least, 3. They invite you to their family birthday dinner with Mom. Oh yeah, no escaping this one Emmerson, you are officially Princeton-Harvard's girlfriend whether you know it or not. It's been a while since we've had an Em and P-H update so let me bring you all up to speed. After a month, 2 out of 3 of these signs had come to fruition and we all tried to warm Em, but she refused to come to terms. I mean isn't the rule, until you've had "that conversation" things aren't official? - Everyone knows these are the rules, come on, P-H did you miss Princeton's class on dating rules 101? So let me tell ya'll about this little birthday bash with the fam. Emmerson arrived at STK for the dreaded dinner, where she was greeted by P-H in the parking lot, his family straggling behind. Eager to meet the elusive Miss Emmerson, P-H's mom rushed to the car to meet the young lady stealing her little ivy-league boy's heart. Bombarded by Mom as she got out her car, Emmerson had absolutely no time to get her bearings. Not cool. Advantage: Mom. P-H's bday present was chilling on the passenger seat when it was spotted by a buoyant Mom. Can't leave that there. Too quick for Emmerson, Mom grabs it out of the car, all the while Emmerson yelling "No! No!" in her head. *Uh Oh face* So the whole gang's chilling at dinner, when P-H's bday cake arrives. The singing erupts and Em finally gets a chance to read the cakes' greeting: Happy Birthday P-H, love Mom, Grandpa, and Emmerson. *Screatching breaks coming to a hault* Love, Emmerson?....love, Emmerson? Where was the memo on this one? Isn't it still too early for Mom to be going ahead and including Emmerson on family things like this? I mean not if she wants to scare Emmerson away, then it's tots brilliant - touche Mom (but I don't think that was her twisted plan). It's present time! Yay, my fav, I love presents. One from Mom, one from Grandpa...those were all boring. Time to get to the good stuff, bring on Em's present. All together now, "Oy"! Mom is beaming with pride, P-H has finally found his girl. The wrapping paper comes off, the box lifts open......it's a RED CROTCHLESS TEDDY. Happy birthday P-H, Emmerson's giving you herself on your special day. Mom don't look to happy now, and Grandpa doesn't even know what's going on. Goooodtimes. Wish I could have been there to experience this joyful event in person.

After dinner: a "special talk" with Mom at P-H's Mom's house. Emmerson on one end of the couch, P-H on the other, and Mom, smack dab in the middle. You could cut the awkwardness with a knife. It's fantastic. Side note - run Em. Run. P-H is clearly still a momma's boy. Def not good. Back to story. What kernels of wisdom did Mom have to impart on the two young lovers? And I quote, "I know you might think you can reuse a condom 2 or even 3 times, well that's just not true. I'm sure you're a very nice girl, dear but I just want to make sure that you kids are safe (hmmm...wonder if Mom learned that the hard way. Can you say P-H = Accident?). In order to detox from this horrific event, P-H took Em to go meet some of his friends for drinks at his fav bar. Em called me to come meet them. I could hardly keep myself from busting out laughing when I pulled up to the bar which sat between Princeton and Harvard avenues in Santa Monica (Truthity, I kid you not. There's no way I could make this stuff up). Walking into this place was like walking into another world, P-H's friends were like little clones of himself. They were all blazer wearing - jcrew looking - I was head oarsman of the rowing team at Princeton types. But here's the catch, they're all Cali born and bred. Curious. Can a SoCali - beach going girl ever make it with a East Coast wannabe prepster? Only time will tell. OMG, it's like Romeo and Juliet or something. I gest, anyhoo, drink up Em, only copious amounts of alcohol can erase the train wreck that was meeting Mom.

2ts, 1t, 0ts

So four score and seven years ago I last wrote an entry, but all good things are worth waiting for, kids. The question floating in my head recently - well at least one of the questions (I have many you know) - is why play like you're interested if you're not? We've all read He's Just Not That Into You - I get it. But what really pisses us girls off is when guys go out of their way to pretend they're interested and then out of nowhere the follow through isn't there. We (and yes, I'm speaking on behalf of all women-kind here) would be totally fine if this were the case all along and the behavior corresponded, but it wasn't in this particular case, and that my friend, is why women think all men are a-holes. Can I get an Amen?! Sorry, that was a lot of pent up aggression. Anyhoo, so lets start with 2ts....Jordan decided she was into him and not only that but that his band was kind of a good time. So off Jordan went to 2ts' next concert, wing-[wo]man at her side (aka her friend, Jackie). So, show ends, they're clearing the stage, time is ticking, 2ts exits the side door with his equipment - that's Jordan's cue. From what I hear the encounter went something like this, "Hey, 2ts", he turns, sees her, and lays the biggest hug on her you've ever seen. 2t speaks: "I'm so glad you came!" Not that this little chat isn't precious but blah, blah, blah, fastforward - a cute chat, lots of hair touching, foot tapping, and bear hugging (all on his part ps) later he asks if Jordan is sticking around because he has to leave for a minute....2t returns and the hugs and flirtatious chatting continue (Jackie, coolly hanging back, taking it all in - yeah, that's not awkward). Well as the convo winds down Jordan gets out while the gettin's still good, but not before 2ts gets in one last parting hug....peace out. Game well played.

Back to that later. 1t - Hey, Sadie do you have a place for me to crash at tonight?, asks 1t as he makes one of his infrequent trips to civilization after returning from a 3 week trek through Africa. Sadie's resposonse: If you just need a couch I know a really great freeway overpass. Ouch! - but rightfully so! A text here and there from the road when it's convenient for him, a place to crash when he's in town for 2.2 - hell, he doesn't even deserve the 1t he has. It should be taken away, he should be 0t. What does this have to do with 2ts, well it brings me back to my overall point that all ts - whether it be 1, 2, or hell, even 3ts - should be stripped. With no response from 2ts (really? really?), not even a middle finger and an "f-you" out the car window as he speeds by (I mean some response is better than no response - am I wrong?), he is clearly undeserving of his ts too. So where does this leave us then? - with two very miffed women and a 25 letter alphabe. Till next time my Marnistoners.

Paris. Part Deux

Sadie’s time in Paris, believe it or not, was filled with more than flings with fabulous French men. In her few spare moments she actually managed to spend some time visiting her friend Marcelle whom she’d met while studying abroad one semester. Marcelle unlike most French people, loved Americans – which worked out well for Sadie since, well she was American. Marcelle came and met Sadie at her classic, boutique, 17th century hotel where they sat, had drinks, and caught up. Marcelle was dying to see the suite Sadie was staying in so the two headed upstairs (literally, 7 floors) to the decked out suite fashioned after Luis XVI. It was in Sadie’s room that things took a rather strange and unexpected turn (no no, get your mind out fo the gutter)…while admiring the grandiosity of the room Marcelle fell to the floor and started to convulse. Never really having seen anyone having a seizure before, a million different things ran through Sadie’s mind: call an ambulance, run downstairs to get help, stay and help Marcelle? She chose the latter for the moment. Every medical trick Sadie had ever heard immediately rushed through her head…should she roll Marcelle on her side? – no, that’s wrong, she’s not throwing up. Give her CPR?-no,definitely not right. Put pressure on the wound?-no! There’s no wound, she’s not bleeding. Hold her down? Yep, that’s the one! So Sadie ran to go hold Marcelle down while she continued convulsing. All the while, Sadie has been yelling for help, but evidently the word ‘help’ got lost in translation. I know that’s a hard one. That is until a Frenchman poked his head in the door. After Sadie communicated to him what was going on and asked him to call for help he looked puzzled. He then began flipping through pages of phone numbers. “Ah Sammy”, he yelled. And he began dialing. So who is this Sammy character and does he have his own ambulance? Anyhoo, after a time on the phone (speaking to no one I might add) the Frenchman hung up. So figuring the French were obviously inept, Sadie left a seizing Marcelle and ran downstairs to the front desk for help. The narrow, windy, 17th century staircase, began to get to Sadie around the 2rd floor as she finally lost her footing and went tumbling, ever-so-eloquently, down the rest of the way (all the way down, running through Sadie’s head was ‘seriously?, no elevator? Come one people, you’re supposed to be so refined!). So Sadie gave it one more try this time with the guy at the front desk, “ambulance!”? Nope, no response, clearly doesn’t translate (I know there’s a really big difference between ‘ambulance’ and ‘ambulance’ said with a French accent. Stupid French) The guy at the desk finally said “Ah, Sammy”, again, what’s with this Sammy person? Looking at his magical list of numbers (I’m sorry, do the French not have an Emergency number, and if so, can it be that hard to remember? – I think not). A fire truck?, he asks…ooo, closer, sure give that a try. Sadie rushes back upstairs finally to check on Marcelle. Sadie bursts into the room…and there is Marcelle, sitting on the couch thumbing through a magazine. Seriously? Sersiously? Sadie all worried like asks if Marcelle’s ok. Marcelle’s response – “yeah, why?” OMG, what just happened? Does Marcelle seriously not remember having a seizure like 5 minutes ago? Oh well, the paramedics came minutes later, and a short trip to the emergency room, a $2 persciption of some fancy French drugs, and all is well. Who’s up for Disneyland, Paris…anyone?

Beurre de Cacahuètes Slap

Four roommates in four very different places: Jordan in San Fran playing a show, Em chilaxing with the fam in Pasadena, me, here writing, and last but never least, Sadie jet setting in Paris. What a life to be able to - on a moments notice - pack up and escape to France (can you say, "Daddy"). Fed up with 1t and all his mind games and indecisiveness (the boy should not be allowed to have his cake and eat it too), Sadie decided to blow off some steam with a week in Paris. Well suffice it to say word travels fast across the Atlantic, tell of Sadie's adventures have made it to L.A. While frolicking in the busy streets of the 7th district, Sadie got her 4-inch heel caught in the crevice of the cobblestones (this is why the French hate stupid Americans). With a car (albeit a small European one, it would still hurt) buzzing toward her, a young man quickly dashed in the street and swept Sadie out of her heel and to safety (sadface, what's she gonna do with one shoe?). Jean-Frances (seriously, is that his name - could he be more French?) then played the part of the poor little American girl's tour guide the rest of the day (nevermind that Sadie's been to Paris 10 or so times). An art student, Jean-Frances was sooo French sounding that I nearly threw up while Sadie was relaying her stories. He showed her the city, the 17th century flat where he grew up, his favorite place to sketch, and lastly his current flat - complete with buddy, Luc. Luc, as it turns out, was a model (yeah, so he says), he's no Zac Efron but whatevs, let's not split hairs, to borrow from Sadie herself (and Derek Zoolander I believe), he was "ridiculously good looking". With the thought of 1t behind her...Jean-Frances, Luc, Sadie and a jar of peanut butter (can you say peanut butter slap, biyayayayatch?). When in France, do as the French do, right? Oui, Sadie. Oui (aspier il, 1t!).We all know how you idolize a certain Ms. Hilton just tell me there will be no "One Night in Paris, Part Deux". So before you do anything more French, Sadie, bring me back some bread and cheese please.

Splish, Splash

What’s the most creative way a guy’s ever hit on you? I bet there are some interesting stories, but Jordan’s potential was awfully creative . So we were all at a really big dinner party last weekend and we were sitting across from this guy, 2t’s (who Jordan can’t decided if she has a crush on, we’ll get to that later though), and his friend, Sweater Boy. So we all chatted through the excruciatingly lengthy dinner, and as it turned out Sweater Boy seemed a bit smitten with Jordan. Now the alcohol was free flowing at this party and suffice it to say, young, slightly-tipsy people and a myriad of open bottles slash full glasses don’t mix. Jordan’s new yellow trench coat would agree. See sweater boy is less than smooth and while attempting to negotiate his chair, he knocked the table and an entire bottle of red wine and a glass of coke (yes both, he’s super talented) on to Jordan. Yikes. In a split second everyone and their mother was throwing napkins at Jordan, but a napkin can’t take the red wine out of your underwear, nor can it out of your yellow coat…..uber sadface. Sweater Boy apologized profusely and Jordan graciously said she was ok, even though she was steaming eep inside (she had just removed the tags from the coat, before going out that night). Sweater Boy kept apologizing and slyly threw in, “Hey, let’s exchange phone numbers and I can pay for your dry cleaning.” Smooth….That little trick didn’t go unnoticed and the phone number comment was equally slyly brushed over by Jordan. No thanks Sweater Boy, not interested, unless you want to make up for your faux paus by handing over your fantastic grandpa sweater. No? Not so much…well then nevermind. Suck it hard, Swearter Boy! Suck it hard. For the rest of the night Sweater boy had the saddest little look on his face- head in hands, he looked like someone had just run over his dog. Sweater Boy’s friend 2t’s aptly suggested to his friend that he stop apologizing because Jordan’s constant barrage of “I’m Fine” –s were really laden with another sentiment and any more atonement would just anger the sleeping beast. Well played 2t’s – you must have sisters. While we’re on the subject of 2t’s….he’s skinny, tall, and slightly rocker – sometimes when you look at him he’s cute, and sometimes he just looks like an old man. It’s curious, thus Jordan’s confusedness. However, as she explains it, despite her not always finding him attractive, she’s still attracted TO him. She wondered how this could be because despite her best attempts, her shalloweness usually sets in and this never happens. Is she growing? I told her no; She just found her besheret (that’s her meant-to-be for all you non-J’s). Ha. Yeah. Anyway we’re taking a little field trip this weekend to attend 2t’s concert (yeah I know, he’s in a band, shocker), so we’ll see what comes of this confusing little crush.

P.s. 2t’s….that’s how it’s done folks, with two of them. I asked, and 2t’s didn’t understand the whole 1t thing, he thought 1t’s were stupid too. Just saying…

Look, But Don't Touch

Hello kiddies, sorry I’ve been away so long, I bet you feel more abandoned than Britney Spear’s kids. My apologies. I’m back with some more juiciness. Last night’s lunar eclipse not only brought out the crazies, but it brought out Emmerson’s newest man, Princeton-Harvard, as well. We, the lovely roommates finally got to meet one of Em’s elusive suitors, and this one may be the mother of them all – wealthy, tall, strapping and almost two-times Ivy league educated (pretentious much?). And can you believe he’s also just the nicest of guys to boot?! So in keeping with the evening the two journeyed to Griffith Observatory to watch the lunar eclipse and join the (geeky) star party happenings over there. Ya ya ya…at least it was an original date (it can’t be duplicated for another 7 years I hear) But I’m getting ahead of myself here, so let’s back up a bit. See Em had decided last week that despite her two previous dates with P-H, she was done with dating for a while – she wasn’t ready (and lets face it there are no men emotionally strong enough to endure all of Em’s berating) So to make this sort of unwelcomed date more bearable and to try a little experiment, Emmerson took the advice of a friend and decided to go the relig route to dating. So while this mostly means no touching at all, Em’s going with a slightly modified verision of only hugging….to start. Ok, now I can move forward. So the date….it was good, Em didn’t make P-H cry and he bought her dinner. But Em was thrown for a loop when P-H mentioned casually that he was being stalked by one of her friends….yikes. That’s a tricky situation to navigate. I personally would go with the “she’s more of an acquaintance than a friend” route…that’s always a safe bet. So the two lovebirds sat under the moon and discussed life, love, and all the rest – with Em doing the occasional nod and smile because of P-H's penchant for using big words that only the Ivy-educated understand. Well played, Em! So then the night draws to a close and P-H walks little Emmerson to her door. So what now? She can’t close the night with a kiss can she?...she’s playing the whole relig card. But she had a really good time and wants to make sure P-H knows it….tough call….oh no, he’s leaning in…..too late, there’s the hug. And as he looks longingly into Emmerson’s eyes leaning in for a kiss, what does Em do?, does she lean in too and relent? Nope, she lays another hug on the boy. Lame. All is well though because shortly after P-H left he texted Em to let her know what a great time he had. Could the relig thing actually work?... something to think about.

Yummy McBiblethumper

Oh, Yummy.....the story of Yummy McBiblethumper is epic. The story starts back a couple months ago when The Initials were playing a concert. Jordan was hanging on stage after her show as the band was cleaning up. As the crowd meandered out Jordan spotted Yummy who was walking out ever so slowly hoping to catch her eye. See, she had spotted Yummy earlier during the concert and the two had been having eye sex (that little slut) all night long (at some point, Jordan tells me, she almost had a mishap keeping time - it was that intense) Anyhoo, they got to chatting and really hit it off; now don't get me wrong they talked at length and in depth, but when I say 'hit it off' what I really mean was that Yummy here was the absolute perfect combination of the sooo cute boy next door with an adorable smile and southern charm, and the soo incredibly hot model you just passed on a billboard and would give anything to rub your hands over his abs just once. That My friends is Yummy. Yeah I know you're jealous too. So Jord and Yummy left together and embarked on a marathon date - the really adorable- talk for hours about nothing- kind you only see in a movie-type of date. He took her for coffee at the fabulously funky and laidback Bourgeois Pig where they laughed, snuggled and talked till they closed the place down. The rest of the night was spent on the beach in Santa Monica watching the sunrise (blah - I think I just threw up in my mouth a little). But in more exciting news, this is apparently where the much storied-abs were first seen. The residue of this fabulous date (eww I just realized...no that wasn't a euphemism people) spilled over into the next couple of weeks as lengthy phone calls and suggestive texts were exchanged.

Then one fateful night Yummy called Jordan...all seemed normal until somehow (that sly fox) Yummy delved into the issue of god. Uh oh - bad move. He got on some tangent about how everything great in his life has come to him because of god - and not just any god - he's Christian . I'm thinking you can guess where this conversation went next. That's right, Yummy started hardcore pitching Jesus and Christianity to Jordan - what?!?!? After trying to be nice and several attempts at being like" that's great, good for you, but I'm Jew", Jordan couldn't take it anymore, especially after Yummy tried desperately to get her to come to a church event with him. In order to get her to go he so kindly offered to go to "some Jewish thing" with her....I'm sorry, that's not how it works. That's not something she (or anyone I can think of actually) would make someone else do. Live and let live, I say. So after arguing with Yummy McBiblethumper for 2 hours and explaining to him forcing others into her religion is never something she would do he finally subsided and they parted ways. Gosh ,Yummy, why did you have to go and ruin things? It could have been beautiful this thing that you and Jordan could have had - but no, instead you had to pull the conversion card. What a waste - he still owes her a spooning....

See No Evil, Hear No Evil

Do you ever have one of those days you wish you could have lived over? - like what if you were 30 minutes late for something, and then your entire day would have been totally different. Well, that was my Monday. So with that in mind I now move on. Last time I left you there had been some salacious text messaging (possibly involving body shots and ass slapping) between Sadie and 1t but he was just sooo far away. Well apparently 1t made his way to LA and let me tell you, he made good on those text messages. How do I know this, you ask? Is it cuz Sadie told me - not quite. Nope, unfortunately, I witnessed it all first hand. Instead of having come home when I did, why didn't I stop at the grocery store, or go get my Coffee Bean fix? god knows I could always use a little more gas in the tank. But no, I came straight home....stupid, stupid me. Maybe a tie on the door next time, Sadie - just a thought ;) I opened the front door to find an open bottle of Jose and one of Absolut along side some shot glasses. Then, very much to my surprise, what did I find but a less-than-fully-dressed, good ol 1t tied up on the balcony. Where was Sadie? - In her room (probably getting skanked up in her target lingerie....who knew, right?) The look on 1t's face was priceless, I wish I had a camera *naked-s&m-deer caught in the headlights face* Enter Sadie (hello, goodbuy - I was right, by the way). I don't think I've ever seen anyone's head on a swivel quite like Sadie's - she looked at me, her jaw dropped, then she looked at 1t, and then back at me. BTW, the pink polka dot leather was totally working for you Sade. Now by this point I'm over the shock of the whole situation and I'm just relishing the sheer awkwardness of the situation for the other two, and have realized that I have a camera phone...ahh black mail material, goodtimes. So that was my night, just another manic Monday.

No Shirt. No Jews. No Service.

Riddle me this....what does it say about our tribe if one of the best Jdates you've had, was with a non-J? Nothing good, I'll tell you that. This weekend brought about an impromptu road trip to San Fran. So we all packed in the car for a weekend filled with midnight rendezvous on the fire escape, 2am tap dancing in Union Square, getting lost in H&M, bottomless mimosas in Castro, and the thought - that at some point - maybe we should get ponchos...*suggestion face*. In the 6+ hours we had to kill on the car ride there Jordan regaled us with her latest and greatest J-dating adventure, the non-Jdate (if you will). Her first doubt about this guy's membership in the tribe came when she learned his name (you would think Christian would be a dead give away - j/k, not quite). We'll just call him S. Nevertheless, Jordan had made the date and how rude would it be to cancel on such a cutie based on un-founded suspicion - she had to learn for herself if he had been the kind to ever come face to...ehemm with a mohel in his young life. So she went of course. Even better looking in real life than his pictures (I'm sorry, does that ever actually happen?), S, looked like the less C-listy version of Jesse Metcalf (aka the shirtless, lawn-mowing wonder from Desperate Housewives). Dead give away #2 - I mean jackpot! Somewhere between the movie watching and the making out (quick work, Jord) S let it slip that his people didn't necessarily wander through the desert for 40 (unless you count a Jewish grandma on the "better half" of the family), and wondered if that was a deal breaker for Jordan? *Pondering really hard - cuz he's sooo cute - and how severe of a heart attack would my mom have - and then after her recovery, in exactly what manner would she kill me - face* I mean I know there's this huge push for equality and all but can't Jew-date make some non-prosecutable-but ever so suggestive- statement on the website disuading all the non-J's? I mean is it not hard enough to find a decent Jewish man in real life, do the non-J's have to invade the tribe's internet space as well? Ranting, sorry. So while Jordan didn't exactly tell S she was all for his non-J self, she didn't exactly tell him she'd never see him again either....so cute and so cuddly, how could she say no to him especially after he asked so somberly, "does that mean you won't even be my friend?" After a successful first date, and the promise of another one, here's to non- J "friends"....I guess!

Double Booking

As the saying goes, the only thing you need to get a date is....another date. And it wasn't more true than in Emmerson's case last night. After hitting the books hard in preparation for some good times with the GRE's, Emmerson was planning to get her freak on by going out on not one, but two dates in one night. What? you say, the gumption!, how could she be so inconsiderate? Please, guys do it all the time. So kudos, to you, Emmerson. Anyhoo, so Spikey-Hair Boy was to pick Emmerson up from the apartment and take her out for a little food and drink action, and then shortly after being dropped off back at home she was going to meet up with date #2, Improv Boy for some tea time at Urth. So, big surprise when a late-to-pick-her-up Spikey-Hair Boy decides to take Emmerson to Urth for their date (great, Urth back to back - a little dating deja vu, anyone? - but whatevs, Emmerson's sure there are worse things she could suffer through). So date #1 is going fairly well - they sit, they eat, they talk....a while, then they sip their oolong (ever-so-preteniously)...The date is going long now, and Emmerson starts to get a little nervous - she's supposed to meet Improv at 9:30, it's now 9:15. Craptastic! She can't seem to shut Spikey-Hair up and Miss Manners finds it super awkward to text Improv to tell him a later time or another place right there in front of Spikey-Hair. Uh oh...too late....there's Improv, about to make his way up the steps at to go into Urth when he spots Emmerson out on the patio with Spikey-Hair. Busted! Dammit, why couldn't Spikey-Hair have suggested the Melrose location? does everyone and their mother have to come to the one on Beverly? I'm mean really, people! So Improv, clearly jilted, and Spikey-Hair, clearly confused (and then upset once he put his little head around the situation) start a little fisticuff action before deciding to turn their anger on poor little I'm-not-a-vixen-I-promise Emmerson. "How could she?" "Why is she such a slore?" (put your two favorite synonyms for trollup together and you'll get what I'm talking about) So many questions, so little attention span, or willingness to care...somewhere amidst Spikey-Hair's and Improv's whinning, Emmerson casually got up from the table and trotted off *ambivalent face*; the two boys were left to pick up the tab and bicker like little girls. She walked down the street for a bit (until she was out of sight of course) and then she called me to come pick her up. So perhaps we should amend the saying: all you need to get a date is...another one, just not on the same night. So there I was coming to the rescue, and getting a great bit of fodder for the Marni Stone in the process ;)

Jdate?...no, Jdisaster

I was having a late lunch with Jordan at Newsroom today when she told me about the sheer train-wreck that was her date last night. After having exchanged numerous emails with Breathing guy, and then a couple phone calls the two decided to get together. Breathing guy liked to talk a lot (which Jordan thought might be good since she preferred...well not to talk, generally). But she couldn't shake the feeling that his incessant talking was maybe more than chattiness and fell somewhere more along the lines of creepiness for whatever reason. Jordan told me she now knows always to trust her gut. But so the date was off, and the two met up for tea in Hollywood. Breathing guy talked, and talked, and was more than awkward, and was definitely - as Jordan had initially thought - creepy. Jordan downed her tea in her eagerness to get the hell out of there; but Breathing guy was taking his sweet-ass time (probably due to all his yapping). Finally, he finished and he walked Jordan back to her car when, when with the thought of the date ending, he was suddenly struck with sadness pangs. Breathing guy suggested a movie at the nearby Arclight, which Jordan brushed off with a "I have to get up really early tomorrow" (come on guys, that's the universal sign the girl's not into you and wants to get home asap). However, Breathing guy was not having any of this and basically pulled Jordan away, taking her hand with his clammy paw. They walked over to the Arclight. After deliberating on the movie, Breathing guy bought tickets for what turned out to be the longest movie ever made! In the seclusion of the dark, hermetically sealed theater, Breathing guy made his move: first, the hand massaging (that apparently went on all three hours of the movie). If I were Jordan, there would have been an exchange somewhat akin to this: Excuse me, Breathing guy, but you had to virtually drag me to this movie, in what universe does this mean that I then want your disgusting, clammy, huge-ass hand caressing mine for 3+ hours? Then...the hands moved to her leg. That, my friends, is no bueno. So after readjusting in her seat, Breathing guy's hand removed itself, and the movie watching went on....and on....and on. After what apparently, Breathing guy thought was a spectacular date, he walked Jordan to her car (again) and as she was trying to slip into her car, he planted one on her, and ever so casually tried to slip her the tongue, as well. After Jordan pulled away and threw up in her mouth a little bit, she hopped into her car and sped off.

At around 4 am that morning Jordan was awakened from her sleep by a phone call - she let it ring. Then 30 seconds later, another phone call. And finally another 30 seconds after that, one more call. They were all from, you guessed it, Breathing guy. Now you may be asking yourself, why "Breathing guy" (I was curious myself why she referred to him as this until she got to this point in the story). He left 3 messages for lovely Jordan, each one a solid 4 minutes long of strictly him breathing. Yup, that's right. Creepers left 3 good, long breathing messages. Oh but this wasn't the end - on our way back from lunch, Jordan got a text message from Breathing guy telling her he "had a good time on their date, but isn't looking for anything serious right now, and thinks they should slow things down". WTF?!? Breathing guy belongs not on Jew-date, but in a mental health facility. Well at least it makes for a good story at cocktail parties, right?

1t = 1 big "?"

So I was reading Marie Claire the other day and came across this little "how many miles is he worth" chart, a girls guide for long distance dating of course (dump him if it's over 100 miles). This got me thinking of Sadie, whose "friend" and oft hook-up buddy lives an unbearable 45 miles away. According to Marie, Sadie should hang on to him if he is 'available the weekend of your high school reunion and is cute' (well, duh, of course he has to be cute, otherwise those gas fill ups just aren't worth it). So does 1t pass the test? A cute world traveler with a heart of gold -we're gonna go with yes. But there are so many more questions surrounding 1t: why doesn't he move closer to civilization, could he ever be more than a hook-up buddy, why is he so confusing, and who gives their child a name like his and then spells it with only one "t"? I have to get Sadie on these question asap, but I digress...Well despite the miles we're sure to see more of 1t in the future (especially given some recent scandalous texting) , so check back soon...

Side-Face: Side-Lined

I think Emmerson asked the question de jour when she asked me why don't guys know what's good for them? - and then do that. See, she was referring to Side Face boy, a guy she has been dating for the last month or so. A little blase about him in the beginning, he'd recently kind have been growing on her; as they were spending more time together. But then Side Face, had to go an open up his mouth and just couldn't close it. Why, let me ask again, why would you continue to talk about something that a girl you only just started dating and who you're still trying to impress has asked you repeatedly not to talk about? The event went something like this...

Side Face: blah blah blah.
Emmerson: Could you not, that's really disrespectful. You know I hate that.
Side Face: No. blah blah blah.
Emmerson: Please. could we just make this rule #1
Side Face: #1? you've already made rules 1-100....

Oh no he d'int. But sadly Side Face did, and I'm figuring you can guess what happened to this budding romance. If guys only listened and then realized how simple it is to make women happy (I mean really, Side Face, just take one word out of your vocabulary when talking to Emmerson, talk about it all you want to your friends - just not her) the world would be a much better place. But instead we must continue to deal with these childish little men.

Gas Stations Are The New Pink

This just in, everyone's favorite Sadie gives her seal of approval to gas stations. Now you're thinking, ewwww, gas stations, I know - but hey, what's Brit's fave place to urinate barefooted? - that's right, bitches, the gas station. So don't knock it till you tried it...Where's the perfect place to pick up guys, coffee shops, bars, rehab? nope. Gas stations. Oh, dear Sadie, thank you for this wonderful insight. Trolling gas stations late at night looking for guys (or you know, filling up the gas tank) Sadie spotted a little hottie across the pump sitting tall in his sleek, black, Range Rover. Of course after the fact, Sadie told me she was stupid to do it, but after a full tank and few minutes of eye sex Sadie sauntered over to Mr. Money Bags. At the time she rationalized it with the thought that nice car, nice looking guy, who cares if he's taking me to "some house in the hills" where he could chop me up into little pieces and I'd never be heard from again, he's gotta be legit, right? hell, he could just be the heir to some multi-million dollar mid-western fortune. Ah, Sadie your ability to pin point people is uncanny. Mr. Money Bags is legit, super nice, and who'd-a-thunk an actual heir to a mid-western fortune. So here's to you, Sadie, for making gas stations the new hot spot. Maybe you should quit your boring job and join the Psychic Friends Network.

Fresh Off the Boat

Ahh...single girls in L.A. They're an interesting breed. I mean Jordan, in the five years we've been friends, I don't think she's been without a guy (being a cute girl who's also a drummer in a band goes over pretty well); but for whatever reason ( I think it's to toy with their little minds) she decided to venture into the world of, yes, online dating. Sigh. With what site you might ask, let's call it Jew-Date ;) ( I know I'm so coy with my veiled references). So I get a call from Jordan after her first date with her FOB Israeli. In the country for just a week, unemployed, and a smoker, FOB, was not exactly the ideal date. But then Jordan painted me a little picture...she lovingly referred to him as Super F'ing Ripped Israeli boy, and then explained to me that he had abs like a Grecian god. Shallow? Maybe. But would you do it too? Definitely. We're talking like, I could wash a shirt old school style like my great grandma back in the shtetl-just need a water basin and some soap-kind of abs. So about the date, she gave FOB an overall score of 6, and she broke it down like this: english speaking abilities = pretty good, conversation skills = good, level of interest= high, seeming involvement in a shady pyramid scheme = high, paid for her drink = yes....but that he was a little short. Short on what, you might ask? - height. Like short, short. In her heels, small Jordan was FOB's same height - that kiddies, is what we call a deal breaker. Till next time...

Let The Games Begin...

So here it goes. All the words of wisdom, the scathing accounts, the snarky quips - brought to you (on a platter), courtesy of the one with the gift of gab...MarniStone.