i'm a connector

a friend told me recently that i had to read "the tipping point." she described me as "a connector"

Connectors: Those with wide social circles. They are the "hubs" of the human social network and responsible for the small world phenomenon.

 

i haven't read the book but i'd consider that a pretty fair judgment. if only because i have a million friends, that travel in a million different circles. i meet people everywhere. i meet people out, i meet them through friends, through jobs, through school, through political involvement, i even hang out occasionally with a girl who responded to an advertisement when i was renting out a room. she didn't want the room but she asked if i wanted to have dinner anyway.

 

i often try to get my friends to mingle which sometimes leads to successful new friendships formed between my friends. i like being able to bring people together. i like sharing the love. my best birthday party ever was the time that i was so sick that i sat at the bar feeling like i was going to faint. that sounds awful, but it was awesome because so many people from so many different places were all meeting each other and getting along and having a good time. i couldn't have been happier under the circumstances.

 

that being said, it's a lot of work. i'm ALWAYS the one suggesting meetings. i'm ALWAYS the one sending out the mass e-mails trying to get people together. why is it always my job? how come nobody else cares enough to share the "social planning" load? i think i'm partially to blame. because i'm always reaching out, "checking in," getting things together that everyone else gets used to tagging along for the ride.

no mas. i'm still meeting people all the time. old english man calls often but he hangs out in the uber trendy (read: really annoying) meatpacking dist too often. i met an AMAZING guy on sunday night who has both amazing professional possibilities (i wish i could post his name so you could google him...but i can't) and he's not so bad looking either. i'm going to stop worrying so much about "connecting" for a while. my sched is full for the next couple of weeks anyhow. i have a party at this place on friday. bring on the asian drum circles!

life lessons for a co-worker

so i work with this girl. she's kind of sheltered. but in a totally adorable "i come from a different culture, met my husband in high school and got married at 18" kind of way. there is a lot that she just doesn't understand.

i had e-mailed her to tell her i'd had a booty call with one of the men in my life.

i get an e-mail back from another co-worker.

"we explained booty call to S.  she was sufficiently shocked and asked why it wasn't called, "making love."  we explained that there was no love involved.  also "making love" is kinda gross.  ew."

so damn funny.

phones

so i'm thinking of maybe moving to cingular?

 

and maybe getting this guy?

 

with a new plan and a trade in, the phone is 180. the plan itself is going to run about 75.

 

ugh. hate this....

 

keywords!

so it's that time again where post a list of some of my favorite keyword searches that landed people at this blog:

 

first, tons, TONS of people come here looking for the "falling lady "

 

a fair amount end up here googling, "who's in my mouth "

 

i got one for "granny boobies" last week. i'm sorry, but who goes out looking for those things? why on earth do they want to see them!

 

"jasmine i escort in thailand" came up yesterday. people are so retarded when it comes to finding things on the internets. or, as jon stewart would say, "a series of tubes."

 

"teaching footsex to a boy." it's disturbing. that boy better be of legal age, you hear me foot fetish person?

 

and my new all-time favorite: "he came to our house to sensual massage her from craigslist"

 

i mean, that's like a brilliant first line for a novel written by someone for whom english is not their first language. absolutely brilliant. 

let freedom ring!!!

so, folks...i'm finally free.

 

and freedom has never tasted so good.

 

it feels good to have choice again but but now that i have options, i have no idea where to start.

 

how the hell do i figure out what cell phone provider to use? and what phone to get? and do i just break down and blackberry out like everyone else? verizon's coverage is good. customer service is by turns dismal and then exemplary. their phones, hands down, are horrible.

 

i think i should get a triband phone. i don't travel outside the country that often but something just makes so much sense about a sim card that you can keep your info on. but t-mobile and cingular are the only ones who sell triband phones. and how is their coverage and their customer service?

 

sprint used to roll over and give me anything i wanted whenever i'd threaten to leave them. but they used to screw up my bills royally every month.

 

sigh.

 

suggestions? i don't talk on the phone that much. i text incessantly. i like taking pictures and sending them but it's on an "as needed" basis and something i do only about once a month. i like the T9 function. scratch that....i LOVE the T9 function. i hate samsung phones.

 

help me!!!

SOTU

so i'm here at home with a bottle of wine, fully prepared to play the state of the union drinking game by myself.

it involves taking a drink/shot/whatever whenever smug-faced dubya uses his trademark phrases or bad grammar usage, etc.

versions can be found here. and here. and a million other places.

i can't watch this guy sober without getting angry.

poo.

my equation

drinks with hot single friend on friday

+ boy genius on saturday

+ zeke on sunday (who just purchased a huge duplex penthouse for a few cool million)

+ a bears win (bear down, chicago bears!)

+ an amazing dinner at perry street on monday

+ politician's chief of staff calling to find out what department i wanted to work in

= happiness

the word

this is the best "the word" segment from the colbert report i've seen in ages.

watch and learn folks...

emails from my favorite penpal

To: Marc
From: Jasmine

wherefore art thou?
whither have you gone?
I've missed you so!

To: Jasmine
From: Marc

Wherefore means 'why', so I can't answer that, but actually "why am I?" seems a pertinent question as I sit here at my school printing off an essay to read on the bus home after a very long day spent mainly reading for the benefit of my students.

I've found a new place, in the north west part of town. I can't get anyone to have a drink with me tonight, which sucks.

How is the job? How is everything else.

It is a ray of sunshine to hear from you. Hope all's very, very well.

To: Marc
From: Jasmine

i think it is perfectly acceptable to ask you why you are a marc. just as i could also ask you what the meaning of life is. which i will. marc, what's the meaning of life?

now whether you have answers for those questions is really out of my control but i urge you to try your best.

so i barely read your e-mail. something about essays and buses. something boring about work. i want real stuff. the grit of the daily grind. tell me interesting stories about school, gossip amongst the faculty. there must be something interesting about your students. my best friend kate ALWAYS has stories about her 7 year olds...they're not good stories, they're not particularly interesting, but they're tales nonetheless.

met a crazy old english man who kissed me and had the grossest dry cat tongue ever. i may have been drunk, but i was not nearly drunk enough to let him carry on like that. then i stumbled down the stairs of the subway for an excruciatingly long ride home.

j

To: Jasmine
From: Marc

OK, well, in retaliation I haven't read your email either. In fact, I've no idea who I'm writing to. If it's you, Pauline, you can take your fax machine and stuff it up your arse, while it's plugged in, and receiving a fax that reads "I hate you"; if it's you, Simon, our love will clamber over all borders, race, creed, or lim-functioning-capacity; if it's you, Bono, no, I won't buy you a new hammer.

Goodbye to you all.

xx M

spring awakening

showing up at a the eugene o'neill at 8am on saturday morning to get rush tickets to spring awakening: $26

knowing the house manager there and getting seat upgrades: $0

knowing the agent for a few cast members and getting to go backstage to meet the cast: $0

finding out that all the guy in the show you now have a crush on is not only really young, but hugely gay: priceless.


but seriously, the show was amazing. if you have the chance, go see this show. the music rocks.

ladies of leisure

so every weekend i do brunch with the ladies.

and by ladies, i mean five of my closest gay guy friends.

and we've started a new neighborhood brunch theme entitled: the all-y'all-biatches-have-to-come-to-me brunch series.

we all live in different parts of town, some even outside manhattan (scary!) and so for the next six weeks we're going to do a brunch place that's in each of our neighborhoods so at least one of us doesn't have to travel great distances to get there in the am.

the problem? i'm not sure there are ANY brunches in washington heights. or the "WaHi" that i hear people are calling it nowadays.

maybe we can eat fried pigs heart from one of the chimichurry fritura trucks.

...or maybe not.

hate

Lieberman Applauds Bush Plan For Iraq
POSTED: 8:59 am EST January 11, 2007

"HARTFORD, Conn. -- Sen. Joe Lieberman, who was assailed for his pro-war views during his fall re-election race, praised President George W. Bush's plan to increase the number of troops in Iraq and urged his colleagues in Congress to proceed with respectful debate."


of course he does. i fucking hate this dude. and when everybody was so happy about "taking back the senate" i did nothing but say, "but nobody can trust lieberman as far as they can toss him." he's a bitter little man who basically switched parties when he lost his own primary. i'm not sure why CT voters would then elect him to another term anyhow but he touts his "independence" all the while claiming he's going to caucus with dems which is a joke. a huge joke. he's licking bush's palm like a sick puppy.

so it is no surprise that this was uttered by dubya in last nights speech: "Acting on the good advice of Senator Joe Lieberman and other key members of Congress, we will form a new, bipartisan working group that will help us come together across party lines to win the war on terror."

bipartisan my ASS.

and this classic quote from the liebs two days ago: “The worst that could happen,” he continued, "is that this policy could become another partisan flashpoint in Washington."

what's the worst that could happen?! how about more deaths, both civilian and from our military? how about the escalation of the civil war?

hate. joe. lieberman. slimy. little. man. ick.

sigh

i'm not sure what it is with me lately.

i've never been so contented. or optimistic. or confident. or happy, really.

went to another bar by myself. the most perfect wine bar ever created. and had a lovely pinot gris and a cheese plate with walnuts and honey drizzled all over and strawberries and bosc pears on the side.

and i'm reading the new yorker, getting cozy with my wine and feeling like everything is falling into place. all the right things are happening at all the right times. i'm not anxious or worried about anything. i'm getting my social life back, quality time with quality people over quality food. i'm not longing. i'm not lacking. i'm just so satisfied.

god. this is so syrupy and lame but it's true. it's freaking embarrassing. i promise there will not be too many more posts like this. i'm going to start withholding this kind of information from the public. y'all will start thinking i've lost my mind.

carry on. carry on. nothing to see here. just some looney happy lady...

good shopping karma

this has been the craziest week. job stuff. crazy old men (i didn't mention, but should have, that when he kissed me it was GROSS. his tongue was dry and sandpapery like a cat. ICK). and last, but certainly not least, some ridiculous shopping.

it started with this Andrew Marc jacket that I got at an amazing price (yes, cheaper than that NM sale price and i got it before it went on sale at NM). the woman didn't even charge me tax. it was a steal. and it's gorgeous.

then we have the new BCBG suit. i'm walking down 5th ave on my way to meet justy for dinner. i see "50% off" signs everywhere so i duck in. i try on a gray suit that makes me look really tall and thin. 50% off makes the whole suit $215. i get to the register and they tell me that i get an extra $50 off when i spend over 200. so i got a hot suit for $165.

then i'm at bloomingdales. have been looking for gray or black jeans. i find some in some random pile. they're $189 but hanging on a sale rack. the girl rings them up...$45.

the piece de resistance. i'm at the amazing store anthropologie. i see this dress. it's marked down to $229. that's a lot of money to spend on a dress i absolutely don't need. but it's gorgeous. and fits me like a glove. and oh my god, i think i have to have it. so i wait in a tremendous line at the store. i'm second guessing myself the whole time. starting to feel sick to my stomach over the money. finally get to the register..."that'll be $49.99." i look at her, i look at the computer screen to verify what i've just heard. i calmly look down at my purse, pull out a credit card, hand it over, get handed my bag, and slowly walk out of the store. i'm trying my hardest not to look guilty of stealing but it's exactly what i've done. that dress is selling for $350 on the website RIGHT NOW. something must have glitched. and i have a cheapy cheap gorgeous dress to show for it. HUZZAH!!

seriously, who needs ecstasy when you could have just as many euphoric highs from discounts? i feel like i won the lottery. 2007 is looking good folks, lookin good...

going out alone

so i've had the same conversation with several different women over the last week. the gist: they all wanted to try going out alone more often, thinking that it is the best way to meet people.

one friend wants to try restaurant bars, another wants to spend more time on the LES (that's the lower east side for non-gotham folk).

so i have a first interview for a new job (job stuff is CRAZY, will dedicate a post to it later). it was 5pm by the time i got out so i decided not to go back into work. i'm in soho. i text some people to see if they're out and about. i get a series of negatives in response. it looks like i'm on my own.

the weather was beautiful (or scary, depending on how al gore-ish you are) at 60 degrees. i bought myself a new pair of jeans at bloomingdale's and hit up a swanky restaurant around the corner. ordered a glass of champagne and a dozen oysters (at the happy hour price of $15 total, i win) and felt liberated to be going it alone. unfortunately, the bar was full of women. three single (sans wedding rings, at least) men saddled up next to me but after about three minutes of eavesdropping i realized they were idiots and resolved to finish up and try another place.

i head across the street to the bar that i've already decided will be the spot for my next birthday. it's perfect. BUT there was nobody at the bar. most people there were cuddled up in the ample booths and couches all over. so i order my g&t, make small talk with the bartender who has a bunch of friends trail in. we all converse, get shown pictures of bartender's gorgeous 2 1/2 year old boy. and just as i'm about to leave this flamboyant older english man pulls up, "hello darling, how are you?" "pretty good, sir." "well, you're not that good, you don't have anything left in your glass!"

so he orders me another drink, his friend shows up. they start talking nyc restaurant/bar real estate. because i'm a foodie/blog freak, i happen to have some information about places that they themselves didn't know about. C just sold a huge HUGE online real estate website and B, it turns out, owns two of the HOTTEST clubs in the city along with several restaurants. and i mean HUGE. so we're talking food, restaurants, bars. these are my kind of people. a few of their friends show up, they're nice as can be. we start bar hopping to some of the coolest places ever. i'm getting drunk. it's 3am. and then the english dude (who is def. at least mid 50's) kisses me!

i'm like, "what are you doing?!" "you're so lovely darling, i must have you!" "okay, seriously, i have to go. it's late, i have to go to work tomorrow." and then kind of run off. he did insist on taking my card though.

so when i woke up at 9:45 having slept through the 7:30 alarm that gets me to work around 8:30...i was severely annoyed. and then my phone rings from a restricted number. ooooh! news about the job, i'm hoping.

"hello?"
"darling, please tell me you made it to work on time. i'd feel awful if i found out you were late!"
"i'm late. and why are you calling me? i'm waiting for a job call back. i can't talk to you!"
"okay dear, we'll talk later!"
"bye!" i yelled, but i don't think i hid any of my exasperation with the fact i'm getting called by this dude.

only in new york kids, only in new york.

just say no?

so my friend lindsey is STILL dating that guy we met last year on new year's eve. and for old time's sake, we all went back to the party where we met. the place where it all started...

the hostess is a fashion designer. her husband, a dj. the music was good, the company was good. just after midnight, lindsey waved me over and john took a small plastic bag out of his pocket. the bag had a hemp-colored powder in it.

here's where i hesitate. i've never touched drugs. never even held a joint between my fingers before. i've smoked about 10 cigarettes in my life. i rarely even get drunk. i have no idea how drugs are going to effect me. and frankly, they freak me out. the stuff john had was expensive, was brought by his friend who brings it here from somewhere in south america. he said it was as pure as can be (lots of E is mixed with speed and other bad stuff and molded into a pill form that can give you really ugly highs). he took the teeny-weeniest pinch (for those who cook, think about the amount of cayenne pepper you'd add to a cup of soup...it was negligible) and tossed it in a glass of cranberry juice (never mix E with alcohol, they say).

about half an hour later, i notice myself chomping down on my back teeth. hard. it feels funny. my gums feel numb. every slight change in the way i feel i ask lindsey, "hey, is this normal?" "yes, honey, don't worry." but that was the thing...i wasn't worried. i ALWAYS worry. it's WHAT I DO. but i noticed i was amazingly relaxed. like, i'd just come out of a two hour massage, relaxed. i couldn't stop smiling. and i was soooo happy. i loved lindsey. i loved john. i loved that lindsey and john loved each other. i wasn't just thinking these things, i was saying them out loud. i was blissful. my feet had been getting sore from my high heels but i no longer felt pain. we were grinning fools, swaying to the house music's low-key beat. we were sweating like crazy.

eventually we found ourselves on the couch. john had on a velvet jacket and all i wanted to do was stroke it's hem. or run my fingernail along the ribs of lindsey's jeans. everything i touched was so stimulating and felt so good. but not in a sexual way. in fact, i don't think i could have had sex on the drug had i tried. i wanted to move very little and didn't want to be touched at all (which was a problem with john's friend following me around for hours kissing my head and trying to massage me or something).

i knew i was coming off the ride when i started to worry again and when i started to feel my feet ache. john pulled the bag out and we had another pinch...and i was back to happyland. and back to the chomping teeth. my only truly neurotic behavior was something affecting my scalp. if i touched my hair, it felt flat and thin (probably because the sweat from my palms plastering it down) and then i'd proceed to rustle it to try to fluff it. lindsey saw me doing this and had to pull my hands from my head, telling me i was going to pull all my hair out if i didn't stop.

while waiting for the bathroom i kept thinking i was seeing a strobe light. everything was blinking. i was very close to asking the guy next to me about said strobe light, but thought, "if it doesn't exist, this guy will think i'm on drugs. and he'd be right" so i waited until i got back to my seat. the verdict? absolutely no strobe lights. must have been something with my eyes because my pupils were COMPLETELY dilated and i wasn't blinking much.

i got home around 8am. when i woke up, my hips were killing me. a result, i assume, from the nearly 7 straight hours of dancing where, if i hadn't taken something, my body would have told me about 3 hours in to stop and that i was overdoing it. and i was dehydrated. but other than that, i was hangover free.

so as much as i hate to admit it because i do not want to advocate doing drugs...this stuff was good. but it's hard to get, it's costly, and it's not always easy to know if you're getting it from a trusted source. what scares me is that when i was in my happy state, i was asking lindsey where i could get some of my own. that's not me. i don't know who that is. lindsey, wisely i might add, told me that i should never buy anything like this. and she's right. and i won't. but it wasn't a bad ride while it lasted...

some support for the new year

in a scramble to get some of last year's resolutions executed before the new year, i went and got properly fitted for a bra. some 70% of all women don't wear the right size because their correct size probably isn't sold in most stores. not to mention that only the best brands make bras that run the size gamut. so i get to this place and get ushered into a room. some crazy russian woman walks in, makes me take my shirt off, glances at me and says, "34 DD." she runs out, comes in with 12 bras in my new size and they all fit beautifully. more supportive than i was used to, the under wire sat exactly where it was supposed to. i looked like i'd lost 5 pounds just having a little extra lift for the boobies. every woman needs to do this.

tales of new year's debauchery to come soon...