I dont know what made me think of this today - BUT........
I was once part of an office soccer team. I, perhaps because I never played soccer as a kid, or any sports really - well, other then my ill-fated stint at softball, where my poor brother the coach had to find a place for his kid sister, which was a move from left field to catcher - which, may or may not have been such a good idea, as I routinely got bats thrown right at my helmet (that didnt feel good), and I may have missed a very important toss from third base in a playoff game - but, I digress. Or maybe I dont, as actually that exercise in humiliation was enough to scare me off of team sports for well over a decade. I also "ran" track in high school - as a 1000 meter runner which is a tough race anyway, mostly because its a distance run that you also kind of have to sprint at the start and the end, and I was HORRIBLE at pacing myself- so, went for the top rows to try to get a spot - and I got tripped out of a race on the 4th row of a banked track at BU. That means, I rolled down four rows to the cement floor with a crashing thud which hurt like the dickens - I then unleashed a string of swears at my two coaches who wanted me to restart the race (which I still feel bad about) - I decided maybe sports weren't my thing. Maybe I was just meant to be a sports fan. Never competed in a race after that. I run, but I dont like doing it with annnnyyyone I know. There is nothing that can take the confidence right out of me like a sporting event, race, ect. Nay nay!!!!!!!!!!!!
But, times and people change, and I decided, sure, I'm an adult, I'm more sure of myself, I'll definately play soccer. At least I had learned at this point in my life that while I may not be "skilled" in anyway whatsoever, I will risk any part of my body and attempt to take anyone out - so defense wise, I wasnt thattt horrible. I actually got pretty decent, because odds are a ref wont call out a 5'3 girl for a slide tackle or just otherwise being in the way - and I think I became a small force to be reckoned with. Especially if I was challenging a guy. I didnt say it was fair, it aint, but it is what it is. Sorry, boys.
But wayyyy before that....and multiple soccer lessons from my rad nephew, this happened:
So, our boss decides to show up at a game to check out the kids at the office (who were like 25-0, and we got MASSACRED every game). I of course, have just run out of contacts, and am playing in my glasses (problem), I'm a little nervous, as not only was my extremely atheletically inclined sister playing, my Mom and nephew have shown up to this game. OH, and the ref knows my entire family, played irish football with my brother in law, and has known me since I was probably 12. Internal monologue: CRAP, crap, crap, crap. Oh no no no no...its like softball all over again!!!!
Everything was fine, if you count the first of three horrible assaults in a soccer game as getting tackled in the net by a member of your own team (as neither of us had any consideration for offsides or where we could be defensively). The second, of course, would be my greatest defensive block - which was the "deflection" ie being right in the way, of a soccer ball off my stomach. SO, I am now bleeding from both knees, my stomach kills from the sonic boom that got deflected half way across the field. That was a pretty sweet move, actually. Did I mention that it was no less then 90 out? If not worse? Ever seen what happens to Irish people in the sun and/or heat? Yes, I was a bleeding four eyed tomato with a certain stomach contusion.
Not to be thwarted by these set backs, we get in position for a corner kick. The last thing I saw was the girl raise her foot to kick the ball - then I hear my twin sister running down the field towards me screaming "IS SHE OKAY!!!!!!?!?!?!?!?!", and I realize I had just deflected the ball with my FACE. I am face down on the ground. I actually wish there was a video of this, because I was told I got nailed RIGHT in the face by the ball. Boom and DOWN! The explectives were many, it hurt like a bastard, and - yep, glasses - GONE. Gone and somewhat mangled when recovered. Did I mention we had no subs for this game, so I had to keep playing no matter what?
Boss to me at half time: "are you okay? I've never seen someone take such a beating! Tenacity!"
If that's what they're calling it these days!
Monday, August 30, 2010
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
"I'm Gonna Need You to Come Get Me"
One saturday afternoon I went a pig roast at a friend's house. What could possibly go wrong? Kegs, roasted animals, a nod to lord of the flies posted right on the fence and all day drinking for a mixed crowd of 20-somethings?
Problem is, I like pigs. A lot. The pigs head on my friend's fence was upsetting me. As were several people I didnt like in a college and certainly that had it changed. Despite all the drama, its a good time had by all. My wing lady leaves me, and as nightfall sets in, I realize I need to get the hell out of there. So, I call Captain Conventional (you remember him from the Neil Diamond story), who went from mildly annoying brief dating experience to awesome rescuer in almost all situations since then , who was having scotch and nerd discussion in an undisclosed location - but, he said he'd come get me. In my mind, the conversation went a little something like this "Breaker Breaker One NINE I NEED AN AIRLIFT! AN AIRLIFT IS NEEDED IMMEDIATELY!!!!!". I can smell a dork attack, and boy did it stink at that party. AND I WAS ALL ALONE. Being a suvivor of these events, I do the only reasonable thing - I make some intellectual conversation with the keg. I so got this, I'm thinking. I'm laughing to myself, and turn around - and UGH was standing there. With a Captain Creep face goin on. Oh, he was a creep alright. I could already tell.
UGH: "Hi. I know who you are, do you know who I am"
ME: "WHat?"
UGH: "You're so and so, you work for so and so. Don't you want to know how I know that?"
Me: "No"
UGH: "Cute. I'm....." (blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah"
I am no longer listening. I am calling my rescue, I am scanning the crowd for any one of my stupid ding dong guy friends who abandoned me on thier own missions, and I know I am stuck. So, I have anouther beer, and glare at this guy.
UGH: "So, what do you think?"
ME: "About what?"
UGH: "You know, me"
ME: "ugh"
UGH:"Do you believe in love?"
ME: WHAT???????
UGH: "Its a simple question. DO you? I do."
ME: WHO SAYS THAT??? YOU JUST MET ME! YOU CANT SAY THAT! NO GUYS USE THAT AS A LINE! COME ON!"
UGH: "I do. Maybe you just havent meet the right kid of guys. Sensitivity isnt a bad thing"
I've had a enough of this, I start making my move, and I say
"Oh, trust me, YES it is. (snicker, snort - herein refered to as a snikort)Well, rescue's here. Gotta go!!!"
I think I may have missed a stair on my get away, but got away I did, and thats all that matters.
Geesh. What's a girl gotta do for a little peace while talking to a keg at a damn pig roast????
So, the next day as I'm walking to get my car, I call the party's host to see who this guy was - turns out he worked in the building I worked in, which isnt a good thing. I know I was mean and I feel bad. Oh well.
Tuesday morning, I'm at work, and pass someone in the hall, and say hi. As I'm walking, I realize it was him. "Oh no" I say to myself, and pick up the pace a little bit. Unfortunately, I run into an event, so I am slowed down significantly because I all but plowed into them, and I see two coworkers watching this pursuit, I'm red faced and sweating and I have my hand on the door of my office when I get the
tap-tap. The Shoulder Tap. Busted.
Farmer Ted Dancing from Sixteen Candles
Uploaded by RetroCafe. - Watch more comedy videos and sitcoms.
Me: "oh, ugh! Its you. How are you?"
Ugh: "I thought that was you! Now, how were we feeling sunday morning? Ehh?"
Me: "Oh, bad. Look I'm really sorry. I had drank to much and I dont know why I was mean to you. You seem like a nice person."
Ugh: "Oh, thats alright. Do you remember what we talked about?"
Now, I'm fanning myself because I can see these two coworkers watching this and I am dying of embarrassment, but I stop to look at him. Really? Really, you're going to go there? Come on buddy, for the both of us, dont! So, I say,
Me: "Oh, kind of. Look, sorry again. I have to go thou. Nice to see you."
Ugh: "well, perhaps I can send you an email and remind you. You know, of what we talked about".
Me: "ahh, sure! Gotta go!"
Inside, I immediately get hauled into the interregation room (the conference room) by these two coworkers. I tell them the whole story, and they say, "Go, Go right now. GO check your email. I swear he's already emailed you."
"NO! I cant be mean!"
"GO"
I go. Open my inbox.
"Oh No."...................................
"WHAT DOES IT SAY!!!!!!!!!!!!?!?!?!?!!?"
Problem is, I like pigs. A lot. The pigs head on my friend's fence was upsetting me. As were several people I didnt like in a college and certainly that had it changed. Despite all the drama, its a good time had by all. My wing lady leaves me, and as nightfall sets in, I realize I need to get the hell out of there. So, I call Captain Conventional (you remember him from the Neil Diamond story), who went from mildly annoying brief dating experience to awesome rescuer in almost all situations since then , who was having scotch and nerd discussion in an undisclosed location - but, he said he'd come get me. In my mind, the conversation went a little something like this "Breaker Breaker One NINE I NEED AN AIRLIFT! AN AIRLIFT IS NEEDED IMMEDIATELY!!!!!". I can smell a dork attack, and boy did it stink at that party. AND I WAS ALL ALONE. Being a suvivor of these events, I do the only reasonable thing - I make some intellectual conversation with the keg. I so got this, I'm thinking. I'm laughing to myself, and turn around - and UGH was standing there. With a Captain Creep face goin on. Oh, he was a creep alright. I could already tell.
UGH: "Hi. I know who you are, do you know who I am"
ME: "WHat?"
UGH: "You're so and so, you work for so and so. Don't you want to know how I know that?"
Me: "No"
UGH: "Cute. I'm....." (blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah"
I am no longer listening. I am calling my rescue, I am scanning the crowd for any one of my stupid ding dong guy friends who abandoned me on thier own missions, and I know I am stuck. So, I have anouther beer, and glare at this guy.
UGH: "So, what do you think?"
ME: "About what?"
UGH: "You know, me"
ME: "ugh"
UGH:"Do you believe in love?"
ME: WHAT???????
UGH: "Its a simple question. DO you? I do."
ME: WHO SAYS THAT??? YOU JUST MET ME! YOU CANT SAY THAT! NO GUYS USE THAT AS A LINE! COME ON!"
UGH: "I do. Maybe you just havent meet the right kid of guys. Sensitivity isnt a bad thing"
I've had a enough of this, I start making my move, and I say
"Oh, trust me, YES it is. (snicker, snort - herein refered to as a snikort)Well, rescue's here. Gotta go!!!"
I think I may have missed a stair on my get away, but got away I did, and thats all that matters.
Geesh. What's a girl gotta do for a little peace while talking to a keg at a damn pig roast????
So, the next day as I'm walking to get my car, I call the party's host to see who this guy was - turns out he worked in the building I worked in, which isnt a good thing. I know I was mean and I feel bad. Oh well.
Tuesday morning, I'm at work, and pass someone in the hall, and say hi. As I'm walking, I realize it was him. "Oh no" I say to myself, and pick up the pace a little bit. Unfortunately, I run into an event, so I am slowed down significantly because I all but plowed into them, and I see two coworkers watching this pursuit, I'm red faced and sweating and I have my hand on the door of my office when I get the
tap-tap. The Shoulder Tap. Busted.
Farmer Ted Dancing from Sixteen Candles
Uploaded by RetroCafe. - Watch more comedy videos and sitcoms.
Me: "oh, ugh! Its you. How are you?"
Ugh: "I thought that was you! Now, how were we feeling sunday morning? Ehh?"
Me: "Oh, bad. Look I'm really sorry. I had drank to much and I dont know why I was mean to you. You seem like a nice person."
Ugh: "Oh, thats alright. Do you remember what we talked about?"
Now, I'm fanning myself because I can see these two coworkers watching this and I am dying of embarrassment, but I stop to look at him. Really? Really, you're going to go there? Come on buddy, for the both of us, dont! So, I say,
Me: "Oh, kind of. Look, sorry again. I have to go thou. Nice to see you."
Ugh: "well, perhaps I can send you an email and remind you. You know, of what we talked about".
Me: "ahh, sure! Gotta go!"
Inside, I immediately get hauled into the interregation room (the conference room) by these two coworkers. I tell them the whole story, and they say, "Go, Go right now. GO check your email. I swear he's already emailed you."
"NO! I cant be mean!"
"GO"
I go. Open my inbox.
"Oh No."...................................
"WHAT DOES IT SAY!!!!!!!!!!!!?!?!?!?!!?"
Sunday, June 6, 2010
"I Guess its Just You and Me, Tom"
While this blog is dedicated to many situations where I have had to deal with losers, lunatics, and my general propensity for ridiculous situations to happen around me, every now and again, I win. And this time, I won big. This is the story about the day I meet the man I have dreamed about meeting for YEARS: Tom Brady.
To say I love Tom Brady is a bit of an understatement. Tom Brady is, after all, the perfect man. So handsome, seems to be so nice and truly humbled by his success, and has so kindly given Boston THREE superbowl victories. I have, with no shame, convinced my young nieces that he is in fact my boyfriend and we are going to get married. They used to tell other people about this, by the way, strangers included. When he got married, I, remained, however, a lifer on Team Brady. I get excited when I see him on TV, I jumped up and down the three times I have tried to see him up close: 1. The post-superbowl XXVIII victory duck boat parade, 2007 training camp, and from outside the players entrance at a 2006 Pats game (when Ellis Hobbs had a 92 (or was it 97?) yard touchdown on a return, and Brady and co completely shut out the Texans). I even survived the Esximo bowl for the opprtunity to see the man live in a play off game. Each time, I got closer and closer. And then, my sister mentions doing the Best Buddies Hyannisport challenge to me, which is a 100 mile bike ride from Boston to Hyannis to support the global organization committed to enhancing opportunities in high school, college, and the workforce for individuals with intellectual disabilities. I go to register, see that Brady has a team I can join, which promises a team pic post ride. I, despite the additional money I had to raise, sign up to be on TB12 immediately.
The ride weekend opens with a flag football game, which Brady QB-d, and once again, I get super close to him, but once again, didnt get to make contact with him or get a good picture, despite the fact that I put myself in with a bunch of kids (who I befriended) who were also waiting to get his autograph. Whatever, I tell myself, the ride is tomorrow, and you are on TB12, so its all good.
Race day wasnt looking so hot weather-wise, unfortunately. I had revised my start point from the 100 because I remembered I'm not a cyclist, and this was my first race, afterall. Downpour, dark gray skies, plus thunder and lightening the entire ride down to my checkpoint. The check point was completely flooded, but, I committed to this ride, and I was determined to do it. I leave my bag with my wallet, camera and carefully picked out finish line shower and change into outfit that I was to be wearing in the team picture with a friend, and despite warming up in the parking lot in cold never ending rain, it opened up for the start. Which, then turned into not so optimal extremely hot and humid riding conditions. Whatever.
My bag wasn't at the finish line. It surfaces several hours later, and I'm pretty bummed out about this, comfort and Brady photo-op wise. I'm sweaty from the ride, somewhat dried from the rain, and thankfully I had a pair of mesh shorts in my gear pack, so at least could change into them and get rid of my bike shorts aka "adult riding ass cushions".
Wait for Brady to show up at the Tandem rides (buddies ride with celebs, like Dan Koppen, Bill Bellichick, Stephen Neal, Pierre Woods, and Brady of course) which, again, I was SUPER close to them - this time, I could have touched them if I reached my arm out - so that was awesome.
But, I have no camera, and I'm filthy. I also hadnt looked at my hair at this point, which, when I did, could have gotten me admitted to a mental institution BEFORE I even told one of my stories. I'm hoping the Brady pic will happen at this point, as others are still in their ride gear, but nope, they tell us to head into the party tent (aka, gathering of the beautiful and showered people now rocking the dressed to the cape nines). Absolute dejection sets in. I started telling a harpoon IPA all about how nothing was going my way, and this whole thing is going to be a disaster, - and then I say, screw it - if there is anything I know how to do, its to put my seldom creeping vanity in the can and remember the mission at hand! Man's married to Gisele, for Gods sakes. Like he cared what I looked like! I go into the bathroom, fix my hair best I could, and when Brady comes out on the stage (they had emailed the team and told us the pic would be post awards) I march right up there, and again, I am less then ten feet away from him,on the five feet away side of that scale. So close. Award after award, and I start thinking, wow, I've been so close to both Brady and Anthony Shriver today, I'm starting to take it for granted a little bit. BUT, THEN
Brady calls for his team to come up, the moment I have been waiting for. Before he is even done, I march up, step on stage RIGHT next to him. In front of about 2,000 people, and Tom Brady hasnt even realized I am next to him yet. I start thinking "ahh, you are a dork, now what are you going to do, stand next to him like a damn wierdo???"
But, then.........
Tom looks down at me, I smile up at him (I am sure it was absolute adoration and love kind of smile) he smiles back, and puts his arm around MY WAIST.
(internal monologue: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD).
Here I am, just me and Tom, and he has his arm around my waist! So I say go for it, and put my arm around his waist and say at that point, outloud "Oh my god" Brady then says, as we are standing there together, "Anyone else from my team want to come up?" And I say to him "I dont know Tom, I guess its just you and me!" he laughs at that.
All of the other chicks start coming up, a few guys (meanwhile, Anthony Shriver, who is also beautiful, has now taken the mic, and is asking if there are any men on brady's team) and all of these girls are in like dresses and all done up, Brady keeps his arm around me. More people come up, he drops it to shake hands, I of course, will not move away from his side FOR ANYONE, and when picture time comes, he puts his arm back around my waist, notices I am getting crowded out of the pic (I am on my tippy toes next to him) and he says, "wait guys. hey, Todd, can you move in and down a bit" (so I am now in the picture) and I say "Thanks Tom" and he says "you got it!"
Cant wait to see that picture, because then I can see what true joy looks like on my face!!!!!!!!
When its over (so I am in the team pic, next to and arms around eachother's waists WITH with TOM BRADY) I say to him "wow. Thank you so much. YOu seriously just made my entire life right now"
And he looks down at me, SMILES at me AGAIN and says "No, thank you"
GREATEST.MOMENT.OF.MY.LIFE. PERIOD.
To say I love Tom Brady is a bit of an understatement. Tom Brady is, after all, the perfect man. So handsome, seems to be so nice and truly humbled by his success, and has so kindly given Boston THREE superbowl victories. I have, with no shame, convinced my young nieces that he is in fact my boyfriend and we are going to get married. They used to tell other people about this, by the way, strangers included. When he got married, I, remained, however, a lifer on Team Brady. I get excited when I see him on TV, I jumped up and down the three times I have tried to see him up close: 1. The post-superbowl XXVIII victory duck boat parade, 2007 training camp, and from outside the players entrance at a 2006 Pats game (when Ellis Hobbs had a 92 (or was it 97?) yard touchdown on a return, and Brady and co completely shut out the Texans). I even survived the Esximo bowl for the opprtunity to see the man live in a play off game. Each time, I got closer and closer. And then, my sister mentions doing the Best Buddies Hyannisport challenge to me, which is a 100 mile bike ride from Boston to Hyannis to support the global organization committed to enhancing opportunities in high school, college, and the workforce for individuals with intellectual disabilities. I go to register, see that Brady has a team I can join, which promises a team pic post ride. I, despite the additional money I had to raise, sign up to be on TB12 immediately.
The ride weekend opens with a flag football game, which Brady QB-d, and once again, I get super close to him, but once again, didnt get to make contact with him or get a good picture, despite the fact that I put myself in with a bunch of kids (who I befriended) who were also waiting to get his autograph. Whatever, I tell myself, the ride is tomorrow, and you are on TB12, so its all good.
Race day wasnt looking so hot weather-wise, unfortunately. I had revised my start point from the 100 because I remembered I'm not a cyclist, and this was my first race, afterall. Downpour, dark gray skies, plus thunder and lightening the entire ride down to my checkpoint. The check point was completely flooded, but, I committed to this ride, and I was determined to do it. I leave my bag with my wallet, camera and carefully picked out finish line shower and change into outfit that I was to be wearing in the team picture with a friend, and despite warming up in the parking lot in cold never ending rain, it opened up for the start. Which, then turned into not so optimal extremely hot and humid riding conditions. Whatever.
My bag wasn't at the finish line. It surfaces several hours later, and I'm pretty bummed out about this, comfort and Brady photo-op wise. I'm sweaty from the ride, somewhat dried from the rain, and thankfully I had a pair of mesh shorts in my gear pack, so at least could change into them and get rid of my bike shorts aka "adult riding ass cushions".
Wait for Brady to show up at the Tandem rides (buddies ride with celebs, like Dan Koppen, Bill Bellichick, Stephen Neal, Pierre Woods, and Brady of course) which, again, I was SUPER close to them - this time, I could have touched them if I reached my arm out - so that was awesome.
But, I have no camera, and I'm filthy. I also hadnt looked at my hair at this point, which, when I did, could have gotten me admitted to a mental institution BEFORE I even told one of my stories. I'm hoping the Brady pic will happen at this point, as others are still in their ride gear, but nope, they tell us to head into the party tent (aka, gathering of the beautiful and showered people now rocking the dressed to the cape nines). Absolute dejection sets in. I started telling a harpoon IPA all about how nothing was going my way, and this whole thing is going to be a disaster, - and then I say, screw it - if there is anything I know how to do, its to put my seldom creeping vanity in the can and remember the mission at hand! Man's married to Gisele, for Gods sakes. Like he cared what I looked like! I go into the bathroom, fix my hair best I could, and when Brady comes out on the stage (they had emailed the team and told us the pic would be post awards) I march right up there, and again, I am less then ten feet away from him,on the five feet away side of that scale. So close. Award after award, and I start thinking, wow, I've been so close to both Brady and Anthony Shriver today, I'm starting to take it for granted a little bit. BUT, THEN
Brady calls for his team to come up, the moment I have been waiting for. Before he is even done, I march up, step on stage RIGHT next to him. In front of about 2,000 people, and Tom Brady hasnt even realized I am next to him yet. I start thinking "ahh, you are a dork, now what are you going to do, stand next to him like a damn wierdo???"
But, then.........
Tom looks down at me, I smile up at him (I am sure it was absolute adoration and love kind of smile) he smiles back, and puts his arm around MY WAIST.
(internal monologue: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD).
Here I am, just me and Tom, and he has his arm around my waist! So I say go for it, and put my arm around his waist and say at that point, outloud "Oh my god" Brady then says, as we are standing there together, "Anyone else from my team want to come up?" And I say to him "I dont know Tom, I guess its just you and me!" he laughs at that.
All of the other chicks start coming up, a few guys (meanwhile, Anthony Shriver, who is also beautiful, has now taken the mic, and is asking if there are any men on brady's team) and all of these girls are in like dresses and all done up, Brady keeps his arm around me. More people come up, he drops it to shake hands, I of course, will not move away from his side FOR ANYONE, and when picture time comes, he puts his arm back around my waist, notices I am getting crowded out of the pic (I am on my tippy toes next to him) and he says, "wait guys. hey, Todd, can you move in and down a bit" (so I am now in the picture) and I say "Thanks Tom" and he says "you got it!"
Cant wait to see that picture, because then I can see what true joy looks like on my face!!!!!!!!
When its over (so I am in the team pic, next to and arms around eachother's waists WITH with TOM BRADY) I say to him "wow. Thank you so much. YOu seriously just made my entire life right now"
And he looks down at me, SMILES at me AGAIN and says "No, thank you"
GREATEST.MOMENT.OF.MY.LIFE. PERIOD.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Why that Witch Sarah Jessica Parker Owes Me 11 dollars
I saw Sex and the City Part Two last night. I, like 95% of the global female population, was excited to see this piece of crap, and no, not because of the shoes or the clothes, but because I effing love these ladies. Sex and the City the series, was pretty much the greatest thing that ever happened to women, TV wise. It showcased four ladies, all of whom had very different personalities, one of whom, or possibly a hybrid of any of them, EVERY woman could identify with. And, despite the fact that they were "fabulous", wealthy, and marching around in shoes by makers I can't spell, they went through things that we all do - the fart in front of your boyfriend (did it, with two boyfriends), the bad boys (too many to count), having a wedding of your dreams (and they cast a wide, realistic net on what that dream is), resisting the good guy (did it too many times to count, goes with the bad boys), falling in Dior (for me, the equivalent would be falling at my work xmas party and doing the combat crawl to safety in the waiter galley), the fear of being alone (do it, did it much more in in my 20's then I do in my 30's), the awesomeness of being alone (own it- and its the path to happiness), the post-it break up (for me, it was an email break up from a guy I lived with), getting your heart broken by the guy you trusted not too, and the one you thought was "it" (had it done), been a bad girlfriend because of baggage (done it), what being comfortable with your sexuality is, FRIENDSHIP, and, most importantly, getting thru all that with cocktails with the girls (did it, done it, will do it forever). They had, and mastered, ALL of that! It was the greatest effing show ever!!! For girls anyways, some guys do like it - but lets talk about that. The show made guys uncomfortable for many reasons (varying from it sucked to it intimidated them), and for girls, that was AWESOME! We didnt want to share it with you!! IT was all ours!!!!!!!!!
And, then the Movie. I say THE MOVIE, because as far as I am concerned, after viewing that piece of crap, there is only one MOVIE. Kind of like how the Comcast Center will always be Great Woods and the TD Banknorth will always be the Garden. Some things arent meant to be effed with, AND SEX AND THE CITY IS ONE OF THEM! I'm not going to get into spoilers, or the details of the movie, because it simply doesnt deserve it. The one thing this movie did do, however, was solidify my HATRED of Carrie Bradshaw, and thru her to that witch, Sarah Jessica Parker. Her greed and vanity destroyed this treasure for us, AND for the girls. Shame on her.
This is why I hate her. She took over production in what, the 3rd season? Ie, when the other characters went from supporting her annoying commentary to stealing show, Samantha especially. Anyone else find it funny that at the end of the MOVIE, Samantha's the only one who doesnt get a happily ever after and wondered why?? I'll tell you why, SJP hates Kim Cattrell because she's WAYYYYYYYyy more awesome then her. SO, as the seasons progressed, Carrie became an increasingly shitty friend to the girls (and got away with it, many times, even though she unleashed the beast, always unwarranted, on all of them), and SJP put them thru one trial after anouther, all of which, I think, were meant to "slow them down" and give her a chance to shine in her same pathetic, stale storylines. The only "bad" thing that happened to Carrie was her own fault. But, the girls went through infertility - after a loveless marriage; cancer, infidelity (in a pre-movie perfect marriage?), weight gain (never Carrie thou), ect, ect, ect. But, bad choice, because the other three are wayyyyyyyy more talented then her and owned it. So, sorry d-bag, it backfired.
Then SJP, after Charlotte OWNED the MOVIE (which, was amazing, the MOVIE was all any of us could have asked for), as did the other girls, and Carrie continued to be a friggin wreak, comes up with this plot, which, was like watching "Return to Oz" - anyone seen that? I doubt it, because it was wierd and sucked and UNRECOGNIZABLE to the first movie. Perhaps because she thinks we are still interested in her fickle treatment of men and the pathetic back and forth between Big and Aiden (we all know he's in the movie) and its just stupid and contrived AND intended to make SJP "Carrie" appear to be so irrestible to men that they just cant help themselves to stop the "connection" they have - I mean, really? Please, for those of you who havent seen it, and those who have, remember or pay attention to that "crown" she wears at Stanford's wedding and then ask yourself if Aiden, or Big, would bend to that disaster. I assure you, nay nay, they WOULD NOT! She also continues to be a self centered (even worse then normal) witch who goes for the emotional jugular on anyone who questions her misguided stupid evocations of fate (its always Charlotte), or people who dont do what she wants (the entire cast).
And, because SJP sucks, she rewards herself for being a douchebag, all while allowing ZERO character development for the other girls who made her. Which, IMO, you can see that everyone's tired of it and just stopped trying. This movie SUCKS.
And that is why, Sarah Jessica Parker, I want my 11 dollars back! Get together with eharmony, and you two a-holes who promise me one thing and deliver me crap, can start a PAYMENT PLAN!
And, then the Movie. I say THE MOVIE, because as far as I am concerned, after viewing that piece of crap, there is only one MOVIE. Kind of like how the Comcast Center will always be Great Woods and the TD Banknorth will always be the Garden. Some things arent meant to be effed with, AND SEX AND THE CITY IS ONE OF THEM! I'm not going to get into spoilers, or the details of the movie, because it simply doesnt deserve it. The one thing this movie did do, however, was solidify my HATRED of Carrie Bradshaw, and thru her to that witch, Sarah Jessica Parker. Her greed and vanity destroyed this treasure for us, AND for the girls. Shame on her.
This is why I hate her. She took over production in what, the 3rd season? Ie, when the other characters went from supporting her annoying commentary to stealing show, Samantha especially. Anyone else find it funny that at the end of the MOVIE, Samantha's the only one who doesnt get a happily ever after and wondered why?? I'll tell you why, SJP hates Kim Cattrell because she's WAYYYYYYYyy more awesome then her. SO, as the seasons progressed, Carrie became an increasingly shitty friend to the girls (and got away with it, many times, even though she unleashed the beast, always unwarranted, on all of them), and SJP put them thru one trial after anouther, all of which, I think, were meant to "slow them down" and give her a chance to shine in her same pathetic, stale storylines. The only "bad" thing that happened to Carrie was her own fault. But, the girls went through infertility - after a loveless marriage; cancer, infidelity (in a pre-movie perfect marriage?), weight gain (never Carrie thou), ect, ect, ect. But, bad choice, because the other three are wayyyyyyyy more talented then her and owned it. So, sorry d-bag, it backfired.
Then SJP, after Charlotte OWNED the MOVIE (which, was amazing, the MOVIE was all any of us could have asked for), as did the other girls, and Carrie continued to be a friggin wreak, comes up with this plot, which, was like watching "Return to Oz" - anyone seen that? I doubt it, because it was wierd and sucked and UNRECOGNIZABLE to the first movie. Perhaps because she thinks we are still interested in her fickle treatment of men and the pathetic back and forth between Big and Aiden (we all know he's in the movie) and its just stupid and contrived AND intended to make SJP "Carrie" appear to be so irrestible to men that they just cant help themselves to stop the "connection" they have - I mean, really? Please, for those of you who havent seen it, and those who have, remember or pay attention to that "crown" she wears at Stanford's wedding and then ask yourself if Aiden, or Big, would bend to that disaster. I assure you, nay nay, they WOULD NOT! She also continues to be a self centered (even worse then normal) witch who goes for the emotional jugular on anyone who questions her misguided stupid evocations of fate (its always Charlotte), or people who dont do what she wants (the entire cast).
And, because SJP sucks, she rewards herself for being a douchebag, all while allowing ZERO character development for the other girls who made her. Which, IMO, you can see that everyone's tired of it and just stopped trying. This movie SUCKS.
And that is why, Sarah Jessica Parker, I want my 11 dollars back! Get together with eharmony, and you two a-holes who promise me one thing and deliver me crap, can start a PAYMENT PLAN!
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Neil Diamond Guy, Part Four - The "Oh-No You DID NOT" is just as powerful as "Oh, hell no"
Finally, I arrive in Rhode Island, surrounded by friends, beer, and a hot tub. I tell my Neil Diamond Guy tale, and my guy friends, of course, laugh at me. We then proceed to have the time of our lives, and I periodically check my phone - all quiet on the pyscho front. Phew. After a delightfully drunk evening, me and my friend Matty go to bed. I take a flying leap at the bed, miss it completely, go flying through the air, and crash into the wall. Laughing, I hop into bed and check my phone. There it was. I say "oh no, Matt."
What does it say?
"I know you asked me to not contact you tonight, but I just wanted you to know I missed you."
We then both laugh our asses off at this guy and go to sleep.
I wake up the next day, hungover but determined to not take anymore crap from NDG. I go hiking at the purgatory chasm, I am feeling great, and head home. I ignore all things NDG, which includes my phone, and the internet. By friday, I think Neil Diamond guy starts to lose it. I stayed in because I had a cold, took some Nyquil, and proceed to get baraged by 25 completely desperate and insane, but unresponded to text messages, before I finally send "you are crazy. Never, ever, ever, ever call, text, anything me again."
I, who was on a two week vaction from work, and in this time, Hurricane Katrina hit. The obvious horror of what was happening to those people and no reason to not watch TV kind of turned me into an insomniac. So, when my phone rings with a CT number, I answer it, thinking its a friend from college. Its about 2 am.
"Sheila"
Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh NO! I have picked up a drunk dial from Neil Diamond guy!
Me: "Oh, great, its you."
NDG: "hehehhahahahaha! Wow! Thats nice! Oh, great its me! Happy to hear from me? You sound surprised!"
"Are you drunk?"
NDG: "Nooooo. So, I noticed you stopped talking to me. I'm sorry if I was a little forward, its just that I am one of those "go-er" people! You see something you like, you just go for it! And I understand that you may not want to have a relationship with me, but I really liked you as a person and I'm sorry my being the way I am ruined that. Can I still know you as a person? Because you are pretty great."
I, once again, feel bad for this guy. Feel that maybe I was too hard on him, and soften. So I say
"ok. you arent a bad person, there was just too much all at once. If you would like to be friends, maybe we can meet for coffee sometime (lie, but at least he can walk away with dignity)"
NDG: Great! How about Sunday???"
Me: Ahh, busy sunday. But soon.
NDG: Sheila, can I say something else?
Me: sure, say whatever you need to.
NDG: Well, (laughs like a lunatic)well, I just wish I knew how you felt before we went out
Me: You wish you knew how I felt before our first date?
NDG: Yeah! Because if I knew how you felt about me, I wouldnt have taken you out. I mean, you are a real asshole to let me take you out, spend all that money on you, if you knew you didnt like me. I mean, dont you think you were just a little bit of an (insert: not-nice word for a donkey) to have done that?"
I am sitting upright in bed. Furious. Boiling. Outraged.
Me: "no, I dont"
NDG: "Oh, you dont. Well, thats funny. Because, you know what? at least I dont give up on love. You have issues, I can tell. But you know what? Sometimes you just have to push that aside before a great A GREAT GUY like me, passes you by! What do you have to say to that?"
Me: (angry fire breathing)
NDG: I suppose you need to sleep on this. I'll let you go, I'll call you tomorrow.
Me: Oh, no, actually, let me take care of this right here. Let me help you out. I want to help you, should you ever want a girlfriend EVER. There are things, simple things that girls dont like. You dont know anything about me, so you can assume whatever you want. I dont know anything about you other then friggin crazy. So, assume what you want, but these are facts, call them lessons, for you to take forward. 1. Dont call a girl up at 2 in the morning and try to pretend like you arent drunk; 2. girls dont owe you shit on a date, EVER, 3. Dont call girls who actually endure a date with you an (not nice word for a donkey) and 4. any "issues" I have that you invented in your head to justify your pyschotic behavior dont exist. Just like how we dont exist - I dont even know your last name
NDG (interupts me): I would have told you my last name if you asked me!!!!!!!
ME: I DONT CARE WHAT YOUR LAST NAME IS! You can call me again tomorrow when I've "cooled down", you hyprocritical pig, but I guarantee you, I wont ANSWER!"
And hung up.
Next night, I am at my parents house, and he calls. I dont answer. So, he sends me a text, that said "I did what you asked, I called you. Looking forward to making up."
And that was it. Or was it????
No, it wasnt.
One year later, I am going about my business, and get a text from an unknown number. I open it, and it says "Well, its been a year. I figured it'd be okay to contact you. Can we talk?"
Shudder.
Two years later, I am down at the Boston Marathon on Copley, to see my sister finish the race. I am trying to get as close as I can to my family that was there, when I hear "Sheila?"
Turn around, its Neil Diamond Guy. And I say, "Oh, hell no!" And hop the jersey barrior right there on boylston, and run straight across the street, climb over the next jersey barrier, and keep running.
And that is the tale of Neil Diamond Guy, the guy who lost his mind in under a week, and who's last name I still dont know to this day.
Up Next: The Guy Who Hit on Me at a Pig Roast, who turns out to be a quasi-co-worker and who writes absurd emails
What does it say?
"I know you asked me to not contact you tonight, but I just wanted you to know I missed you."
We then both laugh our asses off at this guy and go to sleep.
I wake up the next day, hungover but determined to not take anymore crap from NDG. I go hiking at the purgatory chasm, I am feeling great, and head home. I ignore all things NDG, which includes my phone, and the internet. By friday, I think Neil Diamond guy starts to lose it. I stayed in because I had a cold, took some Nyquil, and proceed to get baraged by 25 completely desperate and insane, but unresponded to text messages, before I finally send "you are crazy. Never, ever, ever, ever call, text, anything me again."
I, who was on a two week vaction from work, and in this time, Hurricane Katrina hit. The obvious horror of what was happening to those people and no reason to not watch TV kind of turned me into an insomniac. So, when my phone rings with a CT number, I answer it, thinking its a friend from college. Its about 2 am.
"Sheila"
Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh NO! I have picked up a drunk dial from Neil Diamond guy!
Me: "Oh, great, its you."
NDG: "hehehhahahahaha! Wow! Thats nice! Oh, great its me! Happy to hear from me? You sound surprised!"
"Are you drunk?"
NDG: "Nooooo. So, I noticed you stopped talking to me. I'm sorry if I was a little forward, its just that I am one of those "go-er" people! You see something you like, you just go for it! And I understand that you may not want to have a relationship with me, but I really liked you as a person and I'm sorry my being the way I am ruined that. Can I still know you as a person? Because you are pretty great."
I, once again, feel bad for this guy. Feel that maybe I was too hard on him, and soften. So I say
"ok. you arent a bad person, there was just too much all at once. If you would like to be friends, maybe we can meet for coffee sometime (lie, but at least he can walk away with dignity)"
NDG: Great! How about Sunday???"
Me: Ahh, busy sunday. But soon.
NDG: Sheila, can I say something else?
Me: sure, say whatever you need to.
NDG: Well, (laughs like a lunatic)well, I just wish I knew how you felt before we went out
Me: You wish you knew how I felt before our first date?
NDG: Yeah! Because if I knew how you felt about me, I wouldnt have taken you out. I mean, you are a real asshole to let me take you out, spend all that money on you, if you knew you didnt like me. I mean, dont you think you were just a little bit of an (insert: not-nice word for a donkey) to have done that?"
I am sitting upright in bed. Furious. Boiling. Outraged.
Me: "no, I dont"
NDG: "Oh, you dont. Well, thats funny. Because, you know what? at least I dont give up on love. You have issues, I can tell. But you know what? Sometimes you just have to push that aside before a great A GREAT GUY like me, passes you by! What do you have to say to that?"
Me: (angry fire breathing)
NDG: I suppose you need to sleep on this. I'll let you go, I'll call you tomorrow.
Me: Oh, no, actually, let me take care of this right here. Let me help you out. I want to help you, should you ever want a girlfriend EVER. There are things, simple things that girls dont like. You dont know anything about me, so you can assume whatever you want. I dont know anything about you other then friggin crazy. So, assume what you want, but these are facts, call them lessons, for you to take forward. 1. Dont call a girl up at 2 in the morning and try to pretend like you arent drunk; 2. girls dont owe you shit on a date, EVER, 3. Dont call girls who actually endure a date with you an (not nice word for a donkey) and 4. any "issues" I have that you invented in your head to justify your pyschotic behavior dont exist. Just like how we dont exist - I dont even know your last name
NDG (interupts me): I would have told you my last name if you asked me!!!!!!!
ME: I DONT CARE WHAT YOUR LAST NAME IS! You can call me again tomorrow when I've "cooled down", you hyprocritical pig, but I guarantee you, I wont ANSWER!"
And hung up.
Next night, I am at my parents house, and he calls. I dont answer. So, he sends me a text, that said "I did what you asked, I called you. Looking forward to making up."
And that was it. Or was it????
No, it wasnt.
One year later, I am going about my business, and get a text from an unknown number. I open it, and it says "Well, its been a year. I figured it'd be okay to contact you. Can we talk?"
Shudder.
Two years later, I am down at the Boston Marathon on Copley, to see my sister finish the race. I am trying to get as close as I can to my family that was there, when I hear "Sheila?"
Turn around, its Neil Diamond Guy. And I say, "Oh, hell no!" And hop the jersey barrior right there on boylston, and run straight across the street, climb over the next jersey barrier, and keep running.
And that is the tale of Neil Diamond Guy, the guy who lost his mind in under a week, and who's last name I still dont know to this day.
Up Next: The Guy Who Hit on Me at a Pig Roast, who turns out to be a quasi-co-worker and who writes absurd emails
Ain't enough Sequins on Neil's Jacket to Save this Date
After about fifteen minutes from when I watched Neil Diamond guy wake up this guy sleeping in front of the garden and they trot off together, he comes back with two tickets to the show, and exclaims "I knew my boy wouldnt let me down."
I translate this in my brain to read: "I convinced this poor homeless guy to help me scalp tickets or SOMETHING that in any way makes sense"
So, we go into the show. He offers to get me a beer, which, and this is a first at any concert or sports event, I decline. Keepin my wits about me is of great importance at this time. A Neil Diamond concert deserves its own blog, by the way, its that awesome. The concert was also most enjoyable part of the date, mainly because it was so loud I didnt have to listen to NDG, AND if I had to get away from him trying to hold my hand, or do the SO concert stance of standing behind me with his hands on my hips while we sway to the music - well, there is the bathroom and my overwhelming need to just DANCE! Nothin like a concert to ignore the person you are with.
So, concert ends, my car is at work, and seeing as how I was sober and just wanted it to end, I offer to drive NDG home, as it was on the way. He asks me about my for a good night kiss, and I laugh at him. I say, "thanks for dinner" (go to give him a hand shake and a hug)
"haha. hand shake and a hug is all I get, ok.."
Me (blood is boiled, face was red, knuckles were white):
"What did you just say?"
NDG whimpers: "Oh no."
I leave him, pretty confident thats it. I get home, get in bed, and start reflecting on my night, and about the lesson the universe was sending me: rushing into things with the first guy that comes along is never worth it. Ever. Resting back on my pillows, I sigh about my restored wisdom when it comes to close encounters of the pyscho kind. "Thank God thats over", I say to myself, and settle in for a long nights sleep.
"Ring, Ring, Ring" says my phone.
"Please God, dont let it be him. PLease God"
Its him, of course. About a half hour has gone by since I dropped him off.
Me: "Hello?"
NDG: "I just wanted to make sure you were ok." (aww)
Me: I did, thanks. Thanks for the concert and dinner, just get ready to go to sleep."
NDG: "Can we talk?"
Sidebar: Here's why I talked to this guy, or even picked up the phone. I talked to this guy because girls have an absurd notion that "whats goes around comes back around" when it comes to dating. It doesn't, of course, but we really do identify with losers like this guy who are so pathetic and just crazy that you could never, ever, ever, ever be attracted to them, because we think that this is what all of the guys whoever blew us off thought of US. So, by "doing the right thing" and not just outright ignoring this guy, I was essentially correcting all love wrongs I myself had ever endured. This, of course, isnt the way to go with a crazy person, but I refused to be "that guy". I am pretty sure guys like Neil Diamond guy are aware of this female problem and this is how they have survived in the game of love as long as they have. I mean, this guy cleary felt entitled to spread his crazy love around, never thought twice about. Bear in mind that the clock on Neil Diamond guy at this point is four days. Four days, I just got home from a six hour, very "not good" date with this guy, and here he is, calling me a half hour later.
But, I digress.
So, we talk, for anouther half hour. I tell NDG he's a great person, but it just may not work, but lets slow it down a bit. Like, to a snail crawl. I then commit the cardinal dating sin of evoking boyfriends and guys I dated - including the one I was trying to get over. "Its not you, its me" is superfically employed, and I go to bed relieved.
That should have done it.
8 am (and I was on vacation this week, btw), phone goes off. Its him. Let it go to voicemail, and then listen to his tirade about losing the tickets, and how "he also had a VIP pass to some yaught party that he wanted to invite me to, and how much it sucked he lost them. He then says, okay, call you on my lunch break!"
Oh God.
I make some coffee, go to check my email, log on to IM and I'm telling my friend Lauren all about the worst date ever, when I hear the intro "to start me up" by the Stones, which frightened me a bit and a new massage from some cippisisidmike or something.
"Hey, whats up! Isnt it great that we can talk on IM too? What are you doing?"
Me to Lauren "You are not going to effing believe this - he JUST IM -
(Start Me Up!)cippsisdimike: Wanna hang out tonight?
Lauren to Me: Huh? You got cut off what'd you write?"
Me to Lauren: He just IM -
(START ME UP) cippsisdmike: You there??
Me to Lauren: Jesus Christ. What do I do?
Me to cippsisdimike: I cant. Remember, I told you I am going to Rhode Island to hang out with some friends."
(START ME UP): Oh, OK. Want me to come? I'd like to meet your friends.
Me to cippsisdimike: gotta go
And I jump off line.
I call my friend Beth, tell her I am heading down to Rhode Island and Holy Shit wait til she hears my story. I receive several texts from NDG, and to which I finally respond by calling him, and I say:
"I am hanging out with my friends tonight. I do not, repeat, do not, want to hear from you. Okay? Please, this is too much."
NDG: Hehaha (same laugh as when I called him a pathalogical liar, by the way)ehehaha, absense makes the heart grow fonder, I get it. Have fun with your friends, especially the guys"
Me: "whatever. Bye!"
Come back for NGD Part Four, The End (or is it)?
I translate this in my brain to read: "I convinced this poor homeless guy to help me scalp tickets or SOMETHING that in any way makes sense"
So, we go into the show. He offers to get me a beer, which, and this is a first at any concert or sports event, I decline. Keepin my wits about me is of great importance at this time. A Neil Diamond concert deserves its own blog, by the way, its that awesome. The concert was also most enjoyable part of the date, mainly because it was so loud I didnt have to listen to NDG, AND if I had to get away from him trying to hold my hand, or do the SO concert stance of standing behind me with his hands on my hips while we sway to the music - well, there is the bathroom and my overwhelming need to just DANCE! Nothin like a concert to ignore the person you are with.
So, concert ends, my car is at work, and seeing as how I was sober and just wanted it to end, I offer to drive NDG home, as it was on the way. He asks me about my for a good night kiss, and I laugh at him. I say, "thanks for dinner" (go to give him a hand shake and a hug)
"haha. hand shake and a hug is all I get, ok.."
Me (blood is boiled, face was red, knuckles were white):
"What did you just say?"
NDG whimpers: "Oh no."
I leave him, pretty confident thats it. I get home, get in bed, and start reflecting on my night, and about the lesson the universe was sending me: rushing into things with the first guy that comes along is never worth it. Ever. Resting back on my pillows, I sigh about my restored wisdom when it comes to close encounters of the pyscho kind. "Thank God thats over", I say to myself, and settle in for a long nights sleep.
"Ring, Ring, Ring" says my phone.
"Please God, dont let it be him. PLease God"
Its him, of course. About a half hour has gone by since I dropped him off.
Me: "Hello?"
NDG: "I just wanted to make sure you were ok." (aww)
Me: I did, thanks. Thanks for the concert and dinner, just get ready to go to sleep."
NDG: "Can we talk?"
Sidebar: Here's why I talked to this guy, or even picked up the phone. I talked to this guy because girls have an absurd notion that "whats goes around comes back around" when it comes to dating. It doesn't, of course, but we really do identify with losers like this guy who are so pathetic and just crazy that you could never, ever, ever, ever be attracted to them, because we think that this is what all of the guys whoever blew us off thought of US. So, by "doing the right thing" and not just outright ignoring this guy, I was essentially correcting all love wrongs I myself had ever endured. This, of course, isnt the way to go with a crazy person, but I refused to be "that guy". I am pretty sure guys like Neil Diamond guy are aware of this female problem and this is how they have survived in the game of love as long as they have. I mean, this guy cleary felt entitled to spread his crazy love around, never thought twice about. Bear in mind that the clock on Neil Diamond guy at this point is four days. Four days, I just got home from a six hour, very "not good" date with this guy, and here he is, calling me a half hour later.
But, I digress.
So, we talk, for anouther half hour. I tell NDG he's a great person, but it just may not work, but lets slow it down a bit. Like, to a snail crawl. I then commit the cardinal dating sin of evoking boyfriends and guys I dated - including the one I was trying to get over. "Its not you, its me" is superfically employed, and I go to bed relieved.
That should have done it.
8 am (and I was on vacation this week, btw), phone goes off. Its him. Let it go to voicemail, and then listen to his tirade about losing the tickets, and how "he also had a VIP pass to some yaught party that he wanted to invite me to, and how much it sucked he lost them. He then says, okay, call you on my lunch break!"
Oh God.
I make some coffee, go to check my email, log on to IM and I'm telling my friend Lauren all about the worst date ever, when I hear the intro "to start me up" by the Stones, which frightened me a bit and a new massage from some cippisisidmike or something.
"Hey, whats up! Isnt it great that we can talk on IM too? What are you doing?"
Me to Lauren "You are not going to effing believe this - he JUST IM -
(Start Me Up!)cippsisdimike: Wanna hang out tonight?
Lauren to Me: Huh? You got cut off what'd you write?"
Me to Lauren: He just IM -
(START ME UP) cippsisdmike: You there??
Me to Lauren: Jesus Christ. What do I do?
Me to cippsisdimike: I cant. Remember, I told you I am going to Rhode Island to hang out with some friends."
(START ME UP): Oh, OK. Want me to come? I'd like to meet your friends.
Me to cippsisdimike: gotta go
And I jump off line.
I call my friend Beth, tell her I am heading down to Rhode Island and Holy Shit wait til she hears my story. I receive several texts from NDG, and to which I finally respond by calling him, and I say:
"I am hanging out with my friends tonight. I do not, repeat, do not, want to hear from you. Okay? Please, this is too much."
NDG: Hehaha (same laugh as when I called him a pathalogical liar, by the way)ehehaha, absense makes the heart grow fonder, I get it. Have fun with your friends, especially the guys"
Me: "whatever. Bye!"
Come back for NGD Part Four, The End (or is it)?
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Neil Diamond Guy, Part Two - Neil Makes a Grown Man Cry
Cont..........
Let's fast forward thru dinner. NDG's friend was our waiter, by the way, and NGD gets a lot of joy by showing him the "tickets" (aka papers) to the show. We finish our sandwiches, the bottle of wine we split, and start walking towards the T, as Neil Diamond Guy regals me with stories of his 15 never happened trips to South America. We encounter an "artist" with a kid looming behind him, who begs us to stop and listen to his jive or poetry or whatever the hell it was. Being the kind of guy he is (an idiot), NDG grabs my hand, and actually starts "keeping the beat" by thumping his hand against his hip as the guy is going thru he is poem. The guy then of course asks for money, NDG gives him some, we continue to the T. Not that I'm above giving someone money, but at a certain point you can see who is in need and who is clearly on drugs. And, you dont really need to subject a date to that, especially with the menancing guy behind the "poet". We get past that, and then, while waiting for the T, NGD starts frantically patting his pockets. FRANTIC. I ask him whats wrong, and he says "the tickets! I had them, and I dont have them anymore! What am I going to dooooo??? I work so hard, and I save up for moments like this, like Neil Diamond, and to take a special girl to see them, and then, all of a sudden, they are gone??? WHY????"
Me (damage control): Ok, let's just go back, retrace your steps, and I'm sure we will find them. Its okay"
NDG: Ok. Okay, okay, you are right. Ok. Listen, you stay here. I'll be back."
AND BOOKS it down Boylston Street. Like fing lightening.
I am at a crossroads. I can leave. He may not come back, after all. But, I know he will come back, and I just cant do that to a person (why I dont feel bad about blogging this story will be more then justified later). So, I wait. NDG comes back 20 minutes later, no tickets. He grabs my hand and says, "well, we are just going to have to get some tickets. Come on"
We get on the T, and this is where he does the unthinkable. We sit down, and he says "I just dont know why these things have to happen to me" and starts to whimper, and puts his head on MY shoulder!!!! This guy is crying in my LAP, about lost NEIL DIAMOND TICKETS!!!!
I go into survival mode, likely mixed with a little Stokholme syndrome, at the Garden and I start planning my escape by placating Neil Diamond Guy. I stop at the first scalper we see, and he says he only has one ticket. I say, "we'll take it! YOU, stay RIGHT here, I'm going to the ATM! STAY! YOU STAY! I WANT THAT TICKET!"
I drag a forelorn NDG to the ATM, take out whatever money I have too to get this loser a ticket to effing Neil Diamond, while saying "you know what? Neil Diamond Guy? I had a great time with you. I am going to buy you this ticket, because it really sucks that you were so looking forward to it and lost the tickets (that you CLEARLY never bought in the first place), so please, let me buy you this ticket, and call me tomorrow and tell me all about it! Okay??"
NDG: I cant let you do that. I promised you Neil.
Me: Oh, no, seriously, it matters more to you. Thank you for dinner, please let me buy this ticket for you!
NDG: (takes both hands) "Sheila,I promised you Neil Diamond, and we are going to Neil Diamond."
Out of the corner of his eye, or whatever he sees in his crazy world, NDG points at a (homeless maybe?) person SLEEPING outside of the garden, trots off, and says, "hey, dont worry, I know this guy!!!!! From my Newbury Comics days! He'll hook us up!!!!!!"
Me: "F word"
Come back for part three.............
Let's fast forward thru dinner. NDG's friend was our waiter, by the way, and NGD gets a lot of joy by showing him the "tickets" (aka papers) to the show. We finish our sandwiches, the bottle of wine we split, and start walking towards the T, as Neil Diamond Guy regals me with stories of his 15 never happened trips to South America. We encounter an "artist" with a kid looming behind him, who begs us to stop and listen to his jive or poetry or whatever the hell it was. Being the kind of guy he is (an idiot), NDG grabs my hand, and actually starts "keeping the beat" by thumping his hand against his hip as the guy is going thru he is poem. The guy then of course asks for money, NDG gives him some, we continue to the T. Not that I'm above giving someone money, but at a certain point you can see who is in need and who is clearly on drugs. And, you dont really need to subject a date to that, especially with the menancing guy behind the "poet". We get past that, and then, while waiting for the T, NGD starts frantically patting his pockets. FRANTIC. I ask him whats wrong, and he says "the tickets! I had them, and I dont have them anymore! What am I going to dooooo??? I work so hard, and I save up for moments like this, like Neil Diamond, and to take a special girl to see them, and then, all of a sudden, they are gone??? WHY????"
Me (damage control): Ok, let's just go back, retrace your steps, and I'm sure we will find them. Its okay"
NDG: Ok. Okay, okay, you are right. Ok. Listen, you stay here. I'll be back."
AND BOOKS it down Boylston Street. Like fing lightening.
I am at a crossroads. I can leave. He may not come back, after all. But, I know he will come back, and I just cant do that to a person (why I dont feel bad about blogging this story will be more then justified later). So, I wait. NDG comes back 20 minutes later, no tickets. He grabs my hand and says, "well, we are just going to have to get some tickets. Come on"
We get on the T, and this is where he does the unthinkable. We sit down, and he says "I just dont know why these things have to happen to me" and starts to whimper, and puts his head on MY shoulder!!!! This guy is crying in my LAP, about lost NEIL DIAMOND TICKETS!!!!
I go into survival mode, likely mixed with a little Stokholme syndrome, at the Garden and I start planning my escape by placating Neil Diamond Guy. I stop at the first scalper we see, and he says he only has one ticket. I say, "we'll take it! YOU, stay RIGHT here, I'm going to the ATM! STAY! YOU STAY! I WANT THAT TICKET!"
I drag a forelorn NDG to the ATM, take out whatever money I have too to get this loser a ticket to effing Neil Diamond, while saying "you know what? Neil Diamond Guy? I had a great time with you. I am going to buy you this ticket, because it really sucks that you were so looking forward to it and lost the tickets (that you CLEARLY never bought in the first place), so please, let me buy you this ticket, and call me tomorrow and tell me all about it! Okay??"
NDG: I cant let you do that. I promised you Neil.
Me: Oh, no, seriously, it matters more to you. Thank you for dinner, please let me buy this ticket for you!
NDG: (takes both hands) "Sheila,I promised you Neil Diamond, and we are going to Neil Diamond."
Out of the corner of his eye, or whatever he sees in his crazy world, NDG points at a (homeless maybe?) person SLEEPING outside of the garden, trots off, and says, "hey, dont worry, I know this guy!!!!! From my Newbury Comics days! He'll hook us up!!!!!!"
Me: "F word"
Come back for part three.............
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