A Disappointed Heart and Cold Tummy

Dear Diary,

Today I had my heart broken.

Fall is officially in the air in New York. The air is still warm but there is a slight chill about. As someone who loves the summer months and hates winter the cooling of the weather saddens my soul. But the one thing that can warm it up is a hot cup of caramel apple cider! Yummmy!

So after an important (aka boring) meeting I decided to pop into Starbucks and have my first caramel apple cider of the year. After waiting in an obnoxiously long line due to the incompetent employee, I ordered a tall cup of deliciousness. And I waited… and waited… and waited. Finally the incompetent employee yells at me, “We don’t have that.” My response, “What?” After many irritating exchanges I determined they no longer have apple cider and who knows if they will ever because heaven forbid the employee know anything about the store she works in. So I asked for a refund and promptly left.

As a girl from Seattle, I love Starbucks. It’s in my genes. There is something in me that allows me to find the nearest Starbucks; I can be in the middle of the desert and be able to sniff out the nearest Starbucks, even if it means traveling hundreds of miles. No matter where I am I can always depend on Starbucks to make me feel at home and shelter me from the cruel world by providing my soul with caffeine.

So when Starbucks broke my heart by taking away my fall favorite I was devastated. I returned to work and poured my disappointed heart out to my coworker and friend. Like any good friend she tried to mend the situation. You see my building is located above a trendy market that is filled with restaurants, bakeries, and other yummy food shops. She seemed to remember seeing people with hot apple cider roaming the halls of the market. So we ventured out to find the perfect combination of applily warmth and caramel sweetness.

We wanted to do a thorough search so we hit up every shop in the market. We went everywhere, from the organic place to the milk bar to the bakeries. No apple cider could be found, the market was bare. We received a few blank looks and some “Sorry we don’t have it yet.” To which I replied, “But it’s prime apple picking season!” I guess the apples have been picked but not smooshed yet.

When we reached the end of the market without any sign of apple cider my heart was broken. Together we shuffled back to the front of the market. Just when I thought all hope was lost I saw a sight that made it all better:

Jude Law walking towards me with his gay assistant! At first I didn’t know if it was him, but then I heard him speak and that sultry British voice could only belong to one person, Jude Law! Then just when I thought it couldn’t get any better he made eye contact with me! (Well at least I thought he did… I was wearing my glasses and couldn’t see too well.)

Then he passed and the moment was over. My friend didn’t even notice him, so after he passed I told her and we hid in the corner and peeked out at him. We then decided to park it on a stool and see if he would double back through the market. He stopped at a cash machine and looked at the basket store and then exited out the back and just like that Jude was out of my life.

So I guess the moral of the story is: Don’t worry if you can’t find your favorite fall drink because something good is bound to come out of your sorrow. Jude Law will appear and make it all better.

Hugs and Kisses till next time!

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Bathroom Conspiracy

Dear Diary,

I’m not one for conspiracies. I don’t believe that the government is out there giving up Americans to aliens or working with the Russians to rule the world. I generally believe people are good and want to help out those around them. But I am convinced that there is some sort of conspiracy to expose the women of my office to the world while they pee. Let me explain:

There are three stalls in the women’s restroom and the last stall, the handicap stall, is on the end and from about 4 feet off the ground to the ceiling is all windows. The windows face the street and you can see into the windows of the office building across the street. So naturally if the shade was up they’d be able to see me pee. Normally the shade is down except for a small crack (which is nice, because who doesn’t like a little view while using the loo).

But lately every time I use that stall (which is often because I like the extra room) the shade is up. And every time I go I close it. But day after day it is open again. What is going on?

I don’t think another girl is opening it, because why would they? Maybe they dropped the kiddies off at the pool and want to air it out? But the window is always open anyway, and the shade is light and allows air to flow through. So here’s my theory:

I think our cleaning guy is getting a sum of money from some pervert in an office across the street. This is how I see the deal going down (in screenplay format):

FADE IN:

INT. OFFICE BUILDING LOBBY – NIGHT

PERVERT (50’s) in a black trench coat stands behind a column next to the elevator. The elevator opens and a dirty and stoned CLEANING GUY (20’s) shuffles out of the elevator. At the sight of Cleaning Guy the Pervert jumps out in front of him causing the Cleaning Guy to jump.

CLEANING GUY
Dude, I don’t have any money. I

can give you my jacket, but then I’d be cold

and that would suck.

PERVERT
I don’t want to rob you. I have a proposition

for you.

CLEANING GUY
I work through a company, you have

to contact them to get my services.

PERVERT
I don’t want you to clean for me,

I was thinking something else.

CLEANING GUY
I know, but for my other services

too you gotta contact my “company”, his

name is Crystal Rock.

PERVERT
It’s simpler than that. I just need

you to do something in the girls bathroom

every night. Open up the shade in the handicap stall.

CLEANING GUY
Why?

PERVERT
You don’t need to know.

CLEANING GUY
You work across the street don’t you.

My buddy Phil works that building

and has seen your office. Like the

Asians? I hear you have a nice collection.

PERVERT
So will you do it?

CLEANING GUY
I don’t know man, it objectifies women.

PERVERT
Not really, I’m the only one who will see. It’s not like I’m selling–

CLEANING GUY
I’m just kidding man. The bitch who runs the

office is alway getting all over my ass

for not properly cleaning the women’s

bathroom. It’s a bathroom, they aren’t

suppose to be clean. She almost got my

ass fired once.

PERVERT
So you’ll do it?

CLEANING GUY
How much?

PERVERT
$150 a month.

CLEANING GUY

Dude, have you ever heard of a porn

subscription. You can get a lifetime subscription

for $9.95, but it’s your money.

PERVERT
It’s not the same.

CLEANING GUY
Deal.

Pervert opens up his trench coat a bit and reaches into his pocket. Under the trench coat is nothing but bare skin. Cleaning Guy sees this and covers his eyes.

CLEANING GUY
Dude!

PERVERT
Oh sorry! I’m heading to the park after this.

Pervert hands Cleaning Guy the money.

CLEANING GUY

Going to the park now? Wanna

share a cab? Business is good

there on hot summer nights like tonight.

PERVERT
Works for me.

The two exit together.

FADE OUT

I know this totally happened! I should get him fired!

Hugs and Kisses till next time!

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Why Won’t Anyone Play With Me?

This week for many youngsters starts the beginning of school. One of my friends is starting her first year of teaching and has been busily preparing her classroom and lesson plans. In hearing about her preparation I have started reminiscing about my good old days in elementary school. Thinking back life should have been carefree and easy, I shouldn’t have had a problem in the world, but alas my world was filled with trials and tribulations. What follows is a list of my top five major dramas while in elementary school.

5. Kathryn Lamp. I’m sorry. I’m trying to keep this blog as anonymous as possible, but this bitch deserves to have her name mentioned. I mean she called her self Kty… as a result everyone called her K.T.Y. I can’t remember what she did to me, but I know that I did not like her and was constantly fighting with her and being pulled apart by the playground monitors.

4. The First Grade. It was a tough year for me, I remember getting yelled at for coloring outside the lines. Its not like anyone colors outside of the lines on purpose, my motor skills were slow to develop! Also for some reason I had no friends that year. I guess my social skills were slow to develop too. I remember at recess I would wander around the playground alone. Once some older girls came up to me and asked me to be a spy for them and spy on the boys. I made up some excuse and said I couldn’t because I was helping the ants. What?! I still don’t understand my thought process. Ever since then I have been paranoid of being without friends so anytime anyone invites me to do something rather than make up a lame excuse I participate. Picnic in the park… I’m there. Hanging out at da club… just name the date. Killing harmless puppies… you can count on me.

3. John Vanderpool. We carpooled to school everyday and were in the same class. At one time he got into the habit of demanding my Ding Dong at lunch. He said if I didn’t give it to him then he would hit me all the way home and his punches hurt! So one day I was tired of his bullying and I said NO. For the rest of the day I was terrified of the ride home. When class was dismissed I trembled in fear. The whole way home I was silent. But I guess he forgot because he didn’t hit me at all. Even if he did it wasn’t like his mom driving us would tolerate it. But in my 4th grade mind this is how it went, “John why are you hitting her?” “Mom she wouldn’t give me her ding dong!” “Oh, I see. Proceed.”

2. Threesomes. Girls are bitches. Once I stopped helping the ants after first grade I made a best friend. She and I had every class together from second grade on. It was always her and I and someone else. That third person changed the dynamics between me and my BF. I can remember the two of them running from me at recess and me doing the same to her. Of course it always ended in my BF and I ditching the third party for good. But you never knew from one day to the next who would be the odd girl out.

1. The Sixth Grade Christmas Play. At my school it was tradition for the sixth graders to star in the Christmas play. I had looked forward to this since kindergarten, the thought of being up there on stage, acting, it was my dream! I had waited six years for this. Finally it was time for me to try out. I did okay in the audition, despite my sad ability to read out loud (it was a learning disability). When the time came to announce who had what part I waited anxiously for my name to be called. Almost every other sixth grader’s name was called except for mine. My little heart was broken. And to make matters worse, guess who got the lead… that’s right, my BF! I went home and cried and cried, and it only went downhill from there. The practices were during recess and the only people not a part of the practices were a few losers like me wandering around the playground. Then at the performance I was stuck up with all the fifth graders singing, “Christmas time, is no time, no time to diet. It’s no time for watching your weight.” It was humiliating.

Now that I’m much older my dramas and traumas have changed a little, but when you break it down they really are as trivial as my dramas in the first grade. I’m still awaiting acceptance, girls are still bitches, and boys still hit me.

Hugs and kisses till next time!

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