The Right Way to Hit on Someone: Part Two

GAAAAS-PUH! Two posts in one day? Blasphemy. But come on, admit it, you needed something to wash the surgary taste out of your mouth after the last two.

Remember that time I was hit on in a way that was so gracefully executed, my dear friend Erin wanted to “give” me to the man as a reward for his skills? (I know Erin does.)

Well, ladies and gentlemen, it looks like this is going to become a bi-annual thing for me, because it happened again. (Sans Erin. Sorry.)

I was walking down the street when I realized I was going the wrong way, so I turned around, only to almost step on this guy who had been about to tap me on the shoulder.

“Hi!” he said enthusiastically.

I was so caught off guard by the genuine niceness in his tone that I actually said a friendly “hello!” back (instead of my usual “pretending I don’t speak English or am possibly hearing impaired” reaction to unwanted advances).

He stuck out his hand to shake mine. “I saw you walk by, and I just wanted to tell you that you are absolutely stunning. I’m Paolo.”

“Oh…thank you…nice to meet you!” I said, shaking his hand. It wasn’t so much the words he said as the way he said them. He was trying to seem confident but actually nervous in the most endearing way imaginable, and so genuinely friendly. I think that was it. He was completely and totally genuine.

It was at this moment that he happened to glance down at my left hand resting on the strap of my bag.

“Aaand I see you have that giant rock there,” he said, laughing in a “awww shucks…please don’t mock me” kind of way. (Mock you??I’m racking my brains for someone to set you up with right now, dude!)

“Yeah…” I said as kindly as I could. “But thanks for the compliment!”

“Sure,” he said, laughing again. “Take care!”

And scene.

Now, obviously this could have gone seriously wrong at many turns. Randomly going up to a stranger to profess your admiration is the boldest of moves. You gotta give a guy credit for working up the gumption to attempt it.

Poor Paolo. Poor sweet, genuine, lovely Paolo. I wish him the best. But with moves like that, I have a feeling he’ll be just fine.

Perfect moments

You’ll have to forgive me if you’ve got a weak stomach, but I’m about to serve up some mush in the blog this morning.

You know when you have a perfect moment? I mean when all of your senses are experiencing something pleasant, and maybe you can think of some really awesome things to be doing right then, but you would much, much prefer to be where you are.

I do this thing where I try to burn those moments into my brain so I can’t forget them. I’ll consciously recognize every sensory experience, cataloging it and then trying to capture it in a memory. So when things aren’t so good, I can dig through my file of perfect moments for something to get me through.

Last night, Joey decided to surprise me with a special dinner spot. As the car raced along the highway through the twilight, he held my hand, Snow Patrol played on the stereo, and the wind whipped through my hair carrying the salty sweet smell of the ocean. I felt relaxed, loved, and happy. It was, quite simply, perfect.

Of course, in about ten minutes a car of teenagers swerved in front of us, causing Joey to drop my hand and maneuver the car around them, breaking the spell a bit. But that’s why it’s a perfect moment. And honestly, I think the brevity is a big part of what makes them easier to remember.

So anyway, I feel like a post a lot of whining on here, so there’s something positive. Plus, I might be a little sentimental because I’m leaving the hubster behind for the weekend.

But I’m sure he’ll have plenty of perfect moments waiting for me when I get back.

Kindling the flames

So my lovely, wonderful, darling of a husband bought me a Kindle!

image

Now, as you probably assume, I was originally against the very idea of e-readers. I still have a nostalgic, emotional attachment to books, and I will always like having them around. However, I’m still hip! I pick up the jive you lay down, Amazon! So I’ve decided to embrace the future in all its technological, environmentally conscious goodness. (Plus, lately I’ve found myself envying people with them on the train. So compact! So easy to read with the one hand that isn’t holding onto a pole!)

I downloaded my first book last night, and I plan on stocking up a bit tonight before my trip. So far, I like it. It takes a bit of getting used to, and I find myself trying to “turn” the “pages” a bit too soon out of excitement (though, that could be the book I’m reading), but all in all, it’s pretty neat.

Plus, I’m a fast reader. I go through books like some people go through underwear. It’s expensive buying all those actual books, but I kind of hate having to return library books. And by the time I get to the book store or library, I almost never remember what book it was I wanted to buy.

Um, he-llo instand gratification!

So if anyone would like to buy me a present in the next few….lifetime, Amazon gift cards will be gratefully accepted. Also, this.

Because I might be embracing a new era, but I’m still me, after all.

Making tracks

In the wild, I don’t think I would be good at tracking anything. I’m a fairly observant person, but unless I had a clear set of footprints to follow (or, you know, bright red arrows or something), I’m pretty sure I would dismiss broken branches and such (it’s the wild — branches break out here…?).

Which is why I love technology that enables me to track anything.

One time, I visited my friend Annie in D.C. for the weekend. Late one night, we decided to order a pizza from Dominoes, because we had heard you could order their pizza online (plus, we wanted pizza). When we got to the website, it turned out they were running some kind of promotion (I think it had something to do with Dark Knight…) where after you ordered your pie, you could literally track it from the oven to your door.

You guys. I am not even slightly exaggerating when I say this mesmerized us. Our eyes did not leave the screen, except to shout occasionally, “It’s baking right now!” “It’s enroute!” “It’s one mile away as we speak!!!

We hasn’t simply ordered a pizza; we had ordered an adventure. With cheese!

This is also why I’m obsessed with tracking numbers on shipments. Anytime I order something online (which is fairly often), I always feel more actively involved in the purchase when I type in that number and find out it left two days ago and is due in my hands on Tuesday.

So maybe I’m not going to catch an outlaw or chase down a rabbit. I can settle for knowing exactly when my new wallet will grace my doorstep.

In fact, I don’t think that’s settling at all.

Card Stop

Ok, I’ve never claimed to be the most patient person alive, but sometimes I feel like the universe is trying to make me throw myself in front of the next subway train.

You know how I like to educate you on the etiquettes of public transportation? (Hey, otherwise I’m just sitting around being polite with all this useless knowledge in my head.) Welp, it has come to my attention that the masses are greatly lacking in social graces when it comes to purchasing a simple thing: a Metrocard. (See also: LIRR tickets)

The Metrocard is your subway ticket. It can be refilled or replaced at various machines resembling ATMs that can be found at almost any subway entrance.

To procure a Metrocard, you have to complete the following steps:

1. Hit “Start”
2. Select your language.
3. Do you want to refill your Metrocard, buy a new Metrocard, or buy a single ride (self-explanatory, but it’s one trip).
4. Assuming you are not buying a single ride, you must then decide how much money is going on your Metrocard.
5. Are you paying with cash, credit card, or ATM card?
6. Pay.
7. It tells you that you are going to be charged. You agree or cancel.
8. Accept your Metrocard.
9. Do you want a receipt?

THE END.

You literally have to hit seven buttons. The whole process should take less than a minute.

SHOULD.

Yesterday morning (which you already know did not start well), I experience two kinds of people that gum up the works for everyone trying to purchase a Metrocard.

Person One: The guy who cannot get his card to work.
On one hand, I appreciate you using a credit or debit card. It’s much quicker than cash, and many machines don’t even accept bills. The problem arises when the maching just will not recognize your card. I say you get eight tries to make it work. Eight. If the machine still doesn’t recognize your card on the eighth try, you get out of line and try again after you’ve waited. Because the person behind you has a card that will work. And they will not appreciate watching two trains go by while they are waiting for you to come to the realization that it’s just not happening.

Person Two: The guy who is literally buying eight cards.
Nope. You are not special. You do not own the machine just because it is your turn in line. You get a normal amount of time to buy each card. Which means you can buy, at MAX two cards each turn. Then you get back in line. Because this is not your personal card machinem, and I GOT in this line because only one person was ahead of me, NOT TEN. If you want to buy TEN cards, come back when it’s NOT rush hour and buy as many cards as you WANT.

Phew. Glad to get that out.

I think it all comes down to remembering that you are not the only person in the universe. Other people want to get to work, too. So remember that. Please.

Or one day, it’s going to get ugly.

Morning Glory

Oh. My. God.

I just overslept TWO HOURS. Let that sink in. Two. Hours. I could have watched four sitcoms. Attended a hockey game. Or, you know, gotten to work on time with coffee and breakfast.

This are bad, folks.

For some reason, my alarm didn’t go off (even though I’ve triple-checked it, and there is no reason why not), and Joey never turned his phone on last night, thereby erasing my backup alarm, which only gets me up ten minutes before I have to leave, but it works in a pinch.

My first thought upon waking up naturally was, “Hmm…seems a might bit sunny for 5:30 in the morning…?”

It was too sunny. Because it was 7:51.

I guess, on one hand, my body must have needed the rest. But on the other, holy heck, who put you in charge, body?? There’s a reason why my consciousness runs the show. It’s because you obviously can’t be trusted to make the responsible decisions. The decisions that keep us in house and home!!

So anyway. I’m on the train now, but I’ll still be an hour late. And I look like…not good because I literally threw on a dress, stuck in my contacts and fled out the door to catch said train.

Sounds like a great start to a day, right?

Meh. How much would I have to pay someone to bring me a latte and a smoothie and have it waiting at my desk? Hmm?

Excitement and insecurities

Next Saturday, I’m spending the evening with basically everyone I went to high school with.

No, it’s not a reunion. Technically. Two of my good friends from high school are getting married (to each other), and I’m heading back to the heartland to celebrate with them.

Given my not-so-secret feelings about weddings, it should be no surprise that I’m quite excited.

But also given my apprehension about seeing people I haven’t seen in a long time (and judgments), I’ve also, naturally, decided to put pressure on myself.

Now, the rational part of my brain knows that these are my friends, and therefore they are most likely not hoping I got fat and live a sad, lonely life. That I don’t actually have anything to prove. And, to be perfectly honest, they probably already know the gist of my life from Facebook and this ‘ere blog.

The irrational part of my brain wants to be impressive.

God, I hate trying to be impressive.

It’s not like I’m getting plastic surgery or anything. I might be a little more dedicated to my workouts. I might fill in the spots where my highlights have grown out. Heck, I’d probably do that before any big even where I’m going to bother getting dressed up.

I think I’m also a little bummed because Joey isn’t coming with me (sigh…finances and other grown-up games), but after all, I will know everyone there, so I can’t get too lonely.

I guess what I’m saying is, I’m not really worried, but I am a bit preoccupied. Ugh, there’s nothing like the girl going to a wedding who’s only worried about herself, right?

But I have a dress, I have a present that my dear friend Annie and I went in on, I have my plane ticket and my car to the airport booked, and I actually am really excited to see everyone. Yay, weddings!