30 July, 2005

Screwing With Them

I walked downtown last night to meet some friends for drinks. If you have ever spent any amount of time down by Wall Street you know that the streets are all sorts-a twisty with no rhyme or reason. Who was the brain surgeon who thought up that development plan? Walking along my merry way, two random businessy drunk 40 year olds decided to pick up a thread of some unknown conversation with me. Mike and John (actual names I swear!) asked me where I was going. I told them. They giggled in their drunkenness and tagged along. Sure, it's a party. I say everyone's invited.

HERE is where the fun began for me though. Both of these morons where sporting wedding rings and for all the crap I went through yesterday morning finding out that my telephone guy is still married, I was in the mood to screw with them. To punish them a bit for being dicks and looking for some booty while their wives are home with the kids. Not to mention that I was wearing a great dress and a pair of heels and I KNEW that they would do whatever I wanted.

I turned up the flirt and made them buy me drinks. In fact I made them buy my friends drinks too. Why did they get suckered you ask? Because Mike and John actually thought that I would even be REMOTELY interested in sleeping with two drunk 40 year old's who are married. Some what ever fantasy that these guys had was finally coming true. The John guy even asked me what I wanted and informed me that if I was good he would buy it for me. My response was "So do you mean you would actually buy me, like... a CAR?". Can you say EW.

Funny side note; during course of said evening BOTH of them, not one but BOTH, as some point slipped their wedding rings off their fingers. LIKE I WOULD NOT HAVE NOTICED YOU IDIOTS!

So the evening comes to an end under fiery protests, Mike and John were so disappointed that I was leaving WITH TWO OTHER MEN (co-workers and friends, really I am not a whore).

And then I looked into their eyes and smiled a big sweet smile, batted my eyes and in a very girlie way informed them that they were married and how cute it is that the wife and little babies are home while they are out carousing. And with that I said "Have a good night boys!".

Well let's just say, the looks on their faces were priceless!

BUSTED! Hope the bar bill was high!

I am not a bitch by nature, but I am really tired of married men cheating on their wives. Not only are you hurting your wife and children but how do you think the other women feels when she finds out you're married to someone else. It is really crappy all around.

And some of you reading this may think, but yeah you were flirting with them. And my answer is "They are married, they should have NEVER come looking for it in the first place!".

29 July, 2005

Who I idealize

I want to be Lara Croft when I grow up!

Confessions of a 6th Grader

Remember when you were in Jr. High or High School and at a party that involved beer. The conversations always ended up revolving around blow jobs, boobs, butts and sex. During these years I remember thinking "When I grow up I am going to go to sophisticated cocktail parties and have engaging conversation with dashing men and dazzle everyone with my wit!".


This past weekend I laughed my ass off with my friends and drank to much beer. And of course the conversation kicked off with a snarky comment about MY ass which landed us all the way into more conversations about blow jobs, boobs, butts and sex.

Nothing changes. Ever.

And of course, I had a camera to take pictures of all the antics and goings-on.

Final Score: Sophistication Nothing\Laughing like a hyena and creating the ability to later blackmail your friend 50 points.

New Jersey Scores!

Death By Lying!

Last night I received an email from a guy that I have created this amazing email and telephone friendship with. Or so I thought. Apparently, over the last 9 months he has been lying to me. This morning he clarified that he was no longer married but separated. To me, he is still married.

2 People + Separated - Not Yet Divorced = Married.

And once again I am left with the floored sinking sickness in my gut that the world is made of liars and I can not seem to find people who like themselves enough to tell the truth.

Am I wearing a sign "Please lie to me!"?

Last year I ended a three year significant relationship over lying. There were quite a few other 'things' involved, but mainly I was so hurt by the lying. Apparently, he had no problem lying to me for as long as he could get away with it. And yes, he was still married but separated too. A fact that I would have liked to have known before I dated you, not 2 years later!

He and I had a rather lengthy month of conversations last November that went around and around and I won't bore you with the crappy details, but there is one that is just too juicy not to share. And it's about the lying.

Here is the LOAD OF CRAP he laid on me. During one of these conversations he informed me that he 'HAD to lie' to me. I kid you the fuck not. HE HAD TO LIE. Why, you asked? Probably as shocked as I was wondering if he honestly believed I would buy this load of bullshit. He lied to me because and I quote "I thought that your expectations were so high, I thought that you would never want a guy like me with my baggage. I never wanted to hurt you. But YOU MADE me lie to you!".


I made all those lies fall out of your mouth?

He went on to explain that 'Your so amazing, blah, blah, blah, your high energy, blah, blah, blah, I just wanted to be the man that you deserved!".


Be the man that I deserve by lying. Contemplate that for a moment with me. Let's say it together, in a mantra type tone. Be the man that I deserve by lie-ing.


Well shit, I would hate to see who the fuck I would end up dating if you didn't try to be the man I deserved.

I think I should lower my standards and date axe murders instead.

And about the boy with the phone and the recent revelation about the lying. Well the good news is, is that he lives really far away and that I did not do anything that I regret. I let him off easy and told him that I would still be his friend. But honestly, the romance and whatever else is just gone.

Lying kills everything.

22 July, 2005

Look At What Is Being Done To This Beautiful Girl

Do you know about her? I didn't until recently. Living in the United States of Ignorant Land, were we receive no other news of the outside world unless we go out of our way to watch BBC. I had not heard of a girl named Schepelle Leigh Corby from Australia who is sitting in an Indonesian jail for a crime of drug trafficking that she did not commit. I came to find out that this innocent girl may die.

Take a good look at her face... this beautiful girl. She could be you.

Schapelle Corby is 27 years old, from Queensland, Australia. In October of 2004, She and her 17 year old brother were traveling with two of Schapelle's girlfriends to have a fun and cheap vacation for a week in Bali, Indonesia.

Indonesia is a place were Australians routinely go on holiday. This destination is very similar to flying to Florida from the North East. Upon arrival in the Bali airport, a security guard searched her boogie board bag, which she did not have with her the whole time and only just moments before picked up off the baggage belt, and found 4.1 KC of marijuana.

Drug traffickers smuggle drugs out of Indonesia, not into Indonesia. The 4.1kg of marijuana found in Schapelle's bag could have been bought for less than $100 in Bali, but is worth much more in Australia.

Schapelle was immediately arrested.

No evidence or witnesses have been presented who can connect Schapelle with the drug trade. She is a hairdresser in Australia and it has been proven that she does not know anyone who has any illegal ties to drug trafficking.

In Bali, there have been numerous incidents where baggage handlers have tampered with bags. They have been accused of using baggage to transport drugs between Australian capital cities. When the alleged criminals at the receiving airport fail to find the bag where the drugs are hidden, it continues onto another connecting flight, putting the bag's owner at great risk. Bags containing drugs are often marked with chalk so that they will be easily spotted by the intended recipient.

Because Australian Federal Police drug specialists were denied the right to test the drugs to determine their real origin, such tests that could have allowed Australian authorities to find the real dealers, there is no 'concrete' proof that the drugs are not Schapelles. In Indonesia a trial has no jury and fates are decided by three panel judges that are often brutal and corrupt. On

May 27, 2005, Schapelle was convicted and sentenced to 20 years in prison. She has been sharing a 3 meter x 3 meter prison cell with 8 other women.

Yesterday, July 20, 2005 Schapelle began her appeal to the Indonesia authorities. If her appeal fails (the Indonesian authorities have also launched an appeal, pushing for a tougher sentence), she could be sentenced to a more severe penalty, including `execution by firing squad'.

The odds are stacked against her. The Indonesian authorities do not want to look as if they were wrong.

Bali's airlines and the airport has continually failed to identify any staff members who may have been involved in handling Schapelle's baggage. In Australia, Schapelle's legal team is not funded by the Australian Government, who should have stepped in based on human rights, rather a millionaire Ron Bakir realized in February that the Government was doing nothing and put his own money on the line to make sure Schapelle was properly represented. Between October and February Schapelle had no legal assistance from Australia. Many countries in the far east impose the death penalty on anyone found in possession of commercial quantities of drugs.

Please take a few minutes out of your blogging or surfing to Google as much as you can about Schapelle. Her case is awful and disgusting. What the Bali and Australian Governments have done to her can be called a crime. I am so angry and so incredibly overwhelmed.

When you see her beautiful face and read her story you will be too.

You can send letters to:

Schapelle Corby C/O- LPM Kerobokan Jl.

Tangkuban Perahu Kerobokan

Denpasar 80117 Bali, INDONESIA

And packages to:

Schapelle Corby

PO Box 1250

Cleveland QLD 4163


Peter, Paul and Mary Beth!

Apparently Mr. Jesus H. Christ has been a rather busy guy in the last week. He has been invoked in practically every conversation that I have had. Did someone throw up a new Billboard Advertising his greatness on the West Side Highway? Did the Almighty’s invitation get lost in the mail to the grand opening of We-Save-Souls-A-Lot, because it sure has been one heck of a Christian enthused week? And for some reason everyone that I have spoken to decided that I was their target audience. Do I look like I need to find organized religion?

The last time someone preached this much religion to me was when my friend Mary Beth tried to save my soul in college. Not that my soul couldn’t have used a few extra pep talks at that time in my life (shots anyone?), but Mary Beth came from the Appalachian Mountains. A really teeny, tiny town in the Appalachian Mountains. A town where Jesus is the Mayor AND the President of the American Legion Post and HE SEES ALL.

My first mistake was attending a college in the South. For a girl from a freaked out weird family from New York, this is never a good idea. Secondly, this girl has a tendency to be a weensy bit open minded and is willing to have a conversation with anyone on just about any topic. Really, nothing is sacred. This often offends people. As in: “I don’t see what could possibly be wrong with X, it’s only someone else’s idea”. And the X usually represents what that person is vehemently opposed to with a passion. Not that I dig at these things on purpose, I have just always found it interesting to understand another view. As my friend Robyn likes to point out, I belong with them there liberal set.

On a particular evening at Undisclosed Southern University, Mary Beth and I and a few other friends got plowed in one of the College Bars and Mary Beth made the BIG mistake of asking me about my religion. To which my answer probably started off with “I was raised confused”. This always get’s people. If you are from a predominantly something family and that something has been believed in and taught from gospel your whole damn life and was passed down the ages from your great-great-whatever’s, than my family is NOTHING like yours. We are the non-religious folks. Oh we go to church for a wedding and cover the house in greenstuffs on holidays, but that's about it. I was baptized once, that may count for something down the road.

Mary Beth pushed on with the conversation and low an behold found out that ‘GASP’ I not only grew up in a town where Whites, Blacks, Asians and Indians intermingled and went to the same school, but OH NO my boyfriend at the time was a JEW who didn’t believe in Jesus Christ as the Messiah! The conversation didn’t end well and Mary Beth stormed off and snot over her shoulder that I was going to “burn in hell!”. Of course this set off a glee of outbursts from the much less Southern and much more sinful friends. And I was left with the sinking feeling that Mary Beth may never speak to me again; because of religion. Which made me sad and pissed me off at the same time.

After about a week of being completely ignored, there was a light rap on my dorm room door. Mary Beth had tears in her eyes. She apologized whole heartedly for being so rude at the bar. And as her face brightened, she and I both smiled and we relaxed because we both knew that we would be friends again. And then Mary Beth was HIT with a mission. To help me FIND JESUS!

Oh and a mission it was. It involved prayer meetings and bibles and people that Mary Beth had recruited stopping me in the middle of a conversation to ask me if I had spoken with the Lord today. I have to say that I was proud of myself that I kept my sense of humor through the whole rest of that year. I never once lost my temper with these people and let Mary Beth and her friends pray over me as much as they wanted to.

The next year came and Mary Beth had transferred schools. I never saw or heard from her again and all that next year I really missed her. I missed her Southern drawl and the way she relentlessly lobbied the Lord for my soul.

This week, with all this loving Jesus going around, I was reminded of Mary Beth. I think if organized religion taught the true power of friendship, Mary Beth’s unselfish kind of friendship, then I would hop on board tomorrow. If organized religion could find a way to bottle and give this to the world then I would be the biggest believer you’ all ever met.

20 July, 2005


Don't blog when you are on the phone with a Customer Service Representative from the IRS. Especially when they owe you money and they will not listen to you and they of course have your address wrong.

It just makes you mad and then leads to crappy blogging.

Oh and the music. Yeah, they really do need to get some new music for the 'on hold' button that they kept me on for about 20 straight mins while they hunted down a manager that I never got to speak with.

I think I will go find chocolate now.

Oh and P.S.

Enough with the 'Nutcracker Suite' on the hold button already. G-d Damn, get some new music!

Why We Are Friends

I have friends for many reasons, and it seems recently, my friends are now spread out all over the world. Generally, I end up becoming friends with these people because for what ever reason the Universe smacked us together in a situation and at one point we probably laughed pretty damn hard. Come to think of it, if I go down the list of how I became friends with everyone it was usually at the expense of me making an ass of myself and them laughing at me out loud, to which I probably laughed along with them.

And no, I don’t get a chance to see all of these people all that often, but we do email and take trips and I have this really cool open invitation to visit this certain family in Greece the next time I happen to “pop” in….(Hi Elaine!).

There is, however, one friend that I speak with almost everyday. In fact we actually agreed to go on the same cell phone ‘you’re in’ plan just because we know that we speak almost everyday and it was getting rather pricey.

And today I want to thank her for being my friend. For making me laugh that hard, all the time. She lives in Florida with her super cute and awesome hubby that I like just as much, which is great because when you don’t like your friend’s partner that always sucks, but this guy, I like much. And besides, on some weird Germanic level he seriously reminds me of my Mother and so therefore I really do understand his anal-retentive ways. Yes, J.A., the bathroom really was clean enough on my last visit, thank you.

But this is why I love my friend so much. L.C. went to Paris for 9 days on a business trip (oh did I mention that she is a lucky bitch!) and came home with stories and anecdotes to share and bemoaned as to why I did not call her back over the weekend.

Her story first, she made me laugh so damn hard. L.C. screaming about “Why the hell don’t they have air-conditioning in Europe and don’t people realize that the reason why they all have a spicy B.O. smell is because it’s so damn hot and buy a fucking air conditioner already!” to which I swear, hand to G-d, I actually had to pull over to the side of the road because I was peeing in my pants so hard.

You gotta love it when friends travel and bring back their stories.

And then here was mine that I shared with her. L.C. bashed me for not calling her back over the weekend after my cell phone cut out and I stopped crying on the side of the road. To which I informed her that soon after I blew a tire, had to wait for a flatbed and the rest of my Saturday sucked. But then, ray of sunshine, Mom bought me the new Harry Potter book and I read the WHOLE thing in 10 hours on Sunday. Just me and Harry and the gang. Cause I am a big freaking dork!

And she was allowed to laugh her ass off at me. Because she knows what a geek I have the ability to be and I say this shit with such a straight face. Like “What’s your problem, every fucking adult I know reads Harry Potter, I am just cool enough to admit it!”.

15 July, 2005

New Zealand Via Brooklyn

You Can't Get There From Here.

I am jumping out of my skin.

I decided in February of this year that I am going to move to Auckland, New Zealand. Not a move taken lightly. Much, much research and investigating went into this decision.

It all started with one idea. The idea that my life changed dramatically and I decided that I would embrace the concept. Shortly thereafter, I thought about this shift in my life and the unbelievable opportunity that it was presenting to me. A very loud voice in my head screamed "DO IT NOW!" "IF YOU DON'T DO IT NOW, YOU WILL REGRET IT FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!"

The concept started with the unraveling of my life and the direction that it had been going in. A direction not set forth by me, but set forth by another. A spiral that gained momentum which I do admit that I jumped into whole heartedly. But then it spun out of control. I ended up in a place that I never envisioned and this place choked me.

Aat the beginning of the year I started to think about what I wanted. The list of concepts that are not tangible in a materialistic sense. It is the remake of my life and what I am looking to achieve at the end of the day.

I want to pray in a Buddhist Temple in Cambodia. A culture so rich and old in ancient ways that it would take me a lifetime to understand it.

I want to hike in the mountains of New Zealand's Southern Island.

I want to watch the surf break in Bali.

I want to walk the streets in Indonesia.

These are dreams that I dreamed as a kid on lazy Sunday afternoons staring at the map of the world and wondering how big it really was.

Mom should have never bought me a globe.

13 July, 2005

How To Make Your Mom Pee In Her Pants and Shoot Snot Out Her Nose

Several Saturday's ago I convinced my Mom that life should be spent being on 'Perma-Vacation', only to be interrupted with employment during the week. She loved the mind set and she herself has taken to heart 'Perma-Vacation' (as in "My kids are grown and I do not have to be responsible for anyone except your Father!") with Employment. We have re-named the dwelling the 'House By the Lake' and my Father has gotten into the habit of expounding "It's like Martha's vineyard, isn't Geri! Just like Martha's vineyard!". I have done well brainwashing the old folks!

So on Sunday, I being the good child, ran to the store and got Mom a cold, crisp bottle of chardonnay from Chili and then told her she was on 'vacation' for the weekend. Ooooooooohhhh. By lunch she was nice and tipsy and then asked me if I wanted to "join her at the pool".

This process provides two things:

a) If you spend large amounts of time with your family(which is a requirement in my family and which I very often enjoy but they do drive me nuts) this gives you lots of room to move about without being noticed.


b) Drunk parents are a lot of fun to watch, interact with and laugh at. It is so much fun when they are relaxed and not asking all sorts of incriminating questions which can lead to a lot of other incriminating questions.

08 July, 2005

3rd Level of Hell

I work in technology - for a big bank - in New York. I kinda still like what I do, but sometimes the big bank type people make me crazy.

It's technology. It's all about logic. It really should be really simple. Until you get involved in a large deployment with 10 project managers, 30 techs and a bunch o business types expecting 2,000 new users to understand what the heck the software is supposed to do and how to click the pretty button to make the magical install thingy work right.

And then 20 mins into the conference call an argument erupts and you end up with people debating - arguing *WHY* they can't test in production.... "but why???"

I put my phone on mute and proved my mutli-tasking skills by blogging while listening to the argument.

02 July, 2005

Next Time Perhaps He Will Think Before He Tells Other's What Is Morally Just

Surfing the net and found this girls blog: http://phoenixnz.blogspot.com/

I am borrowing a post from her that she borrowed from someone else. I have no idea who the original author was, but the guy is obviously brilliant and funny as hell. I seriously thought that I should not be the only one to stumble across this wonderful bit of satire.

By the way, if your the guy who wrote it and you want credit, please send me an e-mail and I would love to stick your name on it.

Dear President Bush,

Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from you and understand why you would propose and support a constitutional amendment banning same sex marriage. As you said, "in the eyes of God marriage is based between a man and a woman." I try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination... End of debate.

I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other elements of God's Laws and how to follow them.

1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?

2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?

3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanness - Lev.15: 19-24. The problem is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.

4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is, my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2. Clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?

6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there 'degrees' of abomination?

7. Lev.21:20 states that I may ! not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle-room here?

8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though Lev. 19 expressly forbids this: 27. How should they die?

9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev.19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)

I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy considerable expertise in such matters, so I am confident you can help.

Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.

01 July, 2005

A Moment Of Silence Please

Dear Great Aunt Pat,

I don't think I ever said thank you for being so nice to me. You always greeted me with a warm smile, a tight hug and a nice compliment. You were kind when other's in our family called me a hippie and did not mean it as a compliment. When other's made underhanded remarks you were always ready with a steady hand resting on my shoulder.

You laughed easily and out loud. You were warm and always thought of everyone else. You always asked me about my Grandparents who lived so far away in Florida, and always loved to remind me how much my Grandpa, your brother, loved me when I was a little girl and glowed when he was around me.

You remembered things that I was too young to remember and never let me forget that family is important.

And you gave me Dorothy, your daughter and my big cousin, who I adore.

I will see you for the last time on Saturday. I will always love you and I will miss you terribly. Please say hello to Grandma, Uncle Mike, Opa, Uncle Paul, Uncle Steve, Christopher and of course Lady for me.



I Love My Country, I Think Otherwise of My President

His speech started plainly enough:

“My greatest responsibility as President is to protect the American people. And that's your calling, as well. I thank you for your service, your courage and your sacrifice. I thank your families, who support you in your vital work.” Simply thanking people for their hard work and effort.”

But I took it the wrong way. I was appalled that he thanked our soldiers for sacrificing their lives. I was appalled that he had the audacity to *thank* them. It felt cocky and false.

1,700 men and women have died in Iraq so far, and there is no end in sight. They deserved a heck of a lot more than a thank you. They deserved a ticket home.

I was hoping that this speech that President Bush gave would be one of tolerance, one that spoke of peace. The message was clear, but it was not one of peace. The message was one of hatred and violence. Of self absorption, arrogance and ignorance of other cultures. I listened to a man make a speech about the brutality of war, the endless death on both sides and act as if, well this here is what we’re going to do because I say so.

I sat in my living room appalled and I can only imagine what his speech looked like from the other side of the world. How did it look to someone, just like me, in say Germany or France and listening to the same speech? Our American leaders look like bullies and cowards.

A few notes:

How about re-making Iraq in the image of a Muslim country where Muslim’s could live and be Muslim.

Iraq did not attack America. We attacked them. You twisted the words to be inclusive of Iraq so that you can justify the war.

If you continue to see images of violence and bloodshed perhaps it is because the Iraqis do not want American Troops there. Perhaps we should just leave.

You speak of all of these horrible things that Iraqi insurgents are doing; car bombs, sneak attacks, etc. But I thought this was a war. Is it supposed to be fair? And I am pretty sure the Iraqis feel like they are defending their right to their own country. And is it not the winners who write the history books. So we shall see.

You want to ‘advance freedom’ by shoving it down someone else’s throat. How does that make them free? How does that give them the freedom to choose when it is forced upon them by another country? Perhaps they do not want Democracy. But it should not be the American Government’s choice. Ever.

Yes the American’s have made progress in terms of new roads and new schools and medicine. And I love that these social programs are being implemented. But can we not do that and still pull out of the war? Can we not provide aid and allow the country to govern it’s self?

Really - a clear path? I am not seeing a clear path? A clear path to what? More money in your pocket when you and Donald Rumsfeld have figured out a way to make friends in High Oil Type Places.

I am saddened and frustrated by this war.