Now that I have captured your attention I want you to know that this blog has nothing to do with my recent Vegas/Cali trip. Shockingly, nothing too crazy happened aside from the homeless man calling me angel and the rando limo driver blaring Gorilla from his iphone/car speakers. Other than that... it was just your typical family vacation. Or at least my typical family vacation. Thanks Mum and Pops for having fun genetically intwined in your DNA.
Welp. Lies again... maybe this will be a Vegas/Cali blog. Because the more I think about it... the more I realize there is a lot that the world needs to know about this trip. Liiiike for example, the farther west you go, the less pushy/in a rush people get. Let us begin with my trip to the airport in New Yawk. Such a lovely day to be at the airport. It's so peaceful at 5 am in the morning. Oh wait. No. There's that crazed person running through an airport terminal that is literally no bigger than a gas station. Seriously? I thiiiiink you'll make it from security, all twenty feet to the "gate." AKA 1 of 4 exits to the plane. Lay off the coffee bro.
Passed out on the plane and woke up in Chitown. Ayo wassup Oprah! As I'm doing the nike shuffle to my next gate I hear a man on his phone. "I am literally not going to make it to my next flight. It leaves in 10 minutes." I start to think to myself 'gosh that sure does suck. hope it never happens to me.' And then I realize this homeboy isn't even walking at a New York pace. He's strolling through the airport like he's the Queen of England. NO LONGER FEEL SORRY FOR YOU. When my lil legs are moving quicker than yours, we have a problem. Catch the next flight, bro, and see ya never.
Next flight to Vegas goes swimmingly and I exit the aircraft. Having never been in Vegas I expect Showgirls, bright lights, slot machines, and good looking high rollers to greet me as I enter the terminal. As I burst out of the jet bridge very Mary Tyler Moor-ish I look left and right to seeeeee..... NOTHING. Da Fuh... is this Vegas?! *crickets* Huh... well this seems odd.
After picking up the all important luggage I phone the rents who landed in Terminal 1. Pops, unable to figure out public transportation tells me we're catching different cabs back to old Vegas. Ehhhhh. Wrong answer. Leave it to the Little One. I arrive at Terminal 1 and find all of the hustle and bustle I was looking for. Alright. So maybe only the midwest is slow paced. We arrive at the taxi line and the hustle/bustle that I thought Vegas had quickly disappeared. We waited in a taxi line that took ages. Walk down half a block. Walk the other way half a block. Step...step....step.... Um... helllloooo isn't anybody excited to be in Sin City? Can we put some umpf in our step or would we like to see Vegas from the airport line?
*Insert a few days of Vegas Shenanigans*
Helllooo California! We have arrived! The only thing I have to say about California... you wouldn't have traffic jams if you even tried going the speed limit. If you were feeling a lil devilish you could try for 5 over but hey. I understand we're all about hugging trees and being peaceful here. Don't want to get too out of line. (ok... might be extremely over-exaggerating here but seriously New Yawk drivers would completely steam roll these drivers. And why doesn't anybody use their horns there??!)
*Insert a few more days of family bonding and other Cali Shenans*
You know you're waiting for a flight back to New Yawk when a majority of the people have designer bags, pets in carry ons, and jewelry that could blind a person from 20 ft away. I sit next to a man that has no problem with taking up my half of my seat. I'm oddly fine with this. Get to the airport and exit the plane to see the teeny tiny airport is so packed that people are hovering like hawks waiting for an open seat. Yessssss. Love. New. Yawk.
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Sunday, November 24, 2013
Monday, November 4, 2013
Every Guy Deserves a Chance
Whoever invented that saying is full of shit. My motto is trust your gut... and if you're one of those pretty girl types and don't have a gut... then just do whatever you want because pretty girls can do whatever they want anyway.
Let me take you back to a little over a month ago when I kept running into this guy. He lives in my building, pretty good looking, definitely has a job... overall this guy's resume seems to be a winner so when he asks me to go get sushi, my obvious response was of course! Wooo date night here we come.
Friday night rolls around, I hustle home from work and get all pretty. I exit the elevator and my knight in shining armor is awaiting me. Fabulous. This guy is also punctual. Looks like I have found my future husband. I'll take a vintage wedding ring thanks. Fast forward through the awkward hellos, how was your day blah blah blah. I'm bored with this convo type of stuff and let's move on to the good stuff.
As we're strolling down "the strip" towards the restaurant (ooooh la la so romantic) the curve balls begin, but initially I don't realize what I've gotten myself into. "Oh... I'm on a really strict diet right now. I'm in my workout/diet phase." In my head I'm just thinking ooookay. Typical New Yorker. Loves the gym and a nice piece of grilled chicken with a side of nothing. Fine. I'll get over it and teach him how to love fried foods like we in the Midwest do. RED FLAG
We finally make it to the restaurant and sit down in a cozy lil spot in my favorite sushi establishment and I'm feeling generally ok about the situation. Neither person makes a move for the drink list. Fine. Not a big deal. I've been in this drinking game for awhile. I don't need to see a menu to know what I'm ordering. When the waiter stops by to ask for drinks I look at my gentleman caller and ask if he's getting anything and his response.... "I don't drink." WUT. Jaw off the floor Ashley. Jaw. Off. The. Floor! RED FLAG.
As we move into the first serious conversation (and mind you less than 10 minutes into sitting down at the table) Mr. Sober asks me if I'm religious. RED FLAG. Dear God, man. You sure do know how to make a girl swoon.
Time to order so I ask if he wants to share sushi and his response is "No, I prefer to get my own since I'm pretty particular about what I eat but you'll have to try a piece of this special roll that I created and they make just for me." Um.... am I supposed to be impressed here? I'm confused. Are other girls impressed by this? It's a sushi roll, bro. It's not like we just asked for a custom built car. Rawr. red flag...
Ok so I try to recover our conversation after we order. There must be something salvageable here. Wrong. I was very wrong. Out of no where... this guy drops the biggest bomb so nonchalantly. "Yea... I just got back from my 20th high school reunion." *practically chokes on food* *world freezes**eyes widen*Let's just say I wasn't alive all that long when this bro was graduating high school. Red flag...
Where does the conversation lead to next you ask? Oh... he decides we should talk about kids. "Do you like kids?" "Not really." I think I blacked out for the next ten minutes (from my H20 of course) because I can't remember what we talked about but it definitely had something to do with kids, Halloween, and a baptism... and maybe something in Colorado. I don't know. Whatever. Please get me home. Tooooo many red flags!!!
We're finally done and the check arrives. Mr. Red Flag^infinity degree pays (very appreciative. thanks for the sush) and I get up to walk out. Freeze! No no. It's not time to go yet. Mr. Red Flag must return the signed bill to the waiter in case some lil gremlin is out there trying to steal this guy's credit card information. RED FLAG. Like what is this? 1990!? My date can't figure out why the waiter isn't returning. After 20 minutes of me desperately trying to find common ground I'm about to march the check up to the waiter myself when he finally returns. Whew... I've made it. A short 10 minute walk and I can close this chapter of my life.
Here we go walking down "the strip" and what does this bro decide to do? He tries to stop at every single place along the way! "Ohhh.... we should stop and play pool." "Um... I thought you said 9 pm was your bedtime? And... I'm not good at pool. It's got that whole geometry aspect that just really doesn't do anything for me...." "Ohhh have you been to this place? They have great desserts. Would you like to stop?" "No... I thought you were on a diet?" Shuffle shuffle shuffle and we've FINALLY arrived at our apartment complex. I've made it. NO. Wait... nope. sure didn't. We must stop and talk to the concierge about the cute kids that will be trick or treating. All the while the thoughts in my mind are racing... maybe I could just sneak away into the elevator. Say I've got a stomach ache. Anything. Annnnything just get me home. Whew done with the concierge but OH WAIT. A little girl with a puppy comes out of the elevator. Eff it. I'm never getting home. Finally I just walk to the elevator and push the up button. I'm getting the H-E - double hockey sticks outta here. Oh look. He followed me. Should have tried that ages ago... like when he asked me if I was religious. I get off on my floor. Give an awkward lil wave and "welp. thanks for the dinner! see ya!" Elevator closes annnnd scene.
NEXT BRO PLEASE
Let me take you back to a little over a month ago when I kept running into this guy. He lives in my building, pretty good looking, definitely has a job... overall this guy's resume seems to be a winner so when he asks me to go get sushi, my obvious response was of course! Wooo date night here we come.
Friday night rolls around, I hustle home from work and get all pretty. I exit the elevator and my knight in shining armor is awaiting me. Fabulous. This guy is also punctual. Looks like I have found my future husband. I'll take a vintage wedding ring thanks. Fast forward through the awkward hellos, how was your day blah blah blah. I'm bored with this convo type of stuff and let's move on to the good stuff.
As we're strolling down "the strip" towards the restaurant (ooooh la la so romantic) the curve balls begin, but initially I don't realize what I've gotten myself into. "Oh... I'm on a really strict diet right now. I'm in my workout/diet phase." In my head I'm just thinking ooookay. Typical New Yorker. Loves the gym and a nice piece of grilled chicken with a side of nothing. Fine. I'll get over it and teach him how to love fried foods like we in the Midwest do. RED FLAG
We finally make it to the restaurant and sit down in a cozy lil spot in my favorite sushi establishment and I'm feeling generally ok about the situation. Neither person makes a move for the drink list. Fine. Not a big deal. I've been in this drinking game for awhile. I don't need to see a menu to know what I'm ordering. When the waiter stops by to ask for drinks I look at my gentleman caller and ask if he's getting anything and his response.... "I don't drink." WUT. Jaw off the floor Ashley. Jaw. Off. The. Floor! RED FLAG.
As we move into the first serious conversation (and mind you less than 10 minutes into sitting down at the table) Mr. Sober asks me if I'm religious. RED FLAG. Dear God, man. You sure do know how to make a girl swoon.
Time to order so I ask if he wants to share sushi and his response is "No, I prefer to get my own since I'm pretty particular about what I eat but you'll have to try a piece of this special roll that I created and they make just for me." Um.... am I supposed to be impressed here? I'm confused. Are other girls impressed by this? It's a sushi roll, bro. It's not like we just asked for a custom built car. Rawr. red flag...
Ok so I try to recover our conversation after we order. There must be something salvageable here. Wrong. I was very wrong. Out of no where... this guy drops the biggest bomb so nonchalantly. "Yea... I just got back from my 20th high school reunion." *practically chokes on food* *world freezes**eyes widen*Let's just say I wasn't alive all that long when this bro was graduating high school. Red flag...
Where does the conversation lead to next you ask? Oh... he decides we should talk about kids. "Do you like kids?" "Not really." I think I blacked out for the next ten minutes (from my H20 of course) because I can't remember what we talked about but it definitely had something to do with kids, Halloween, and a baptism... and maybe something in Colorado. I don't know. Whatever. Please get me home. Tooooo many red flags!!!
We're finally done and the check arrives. Mr. Red Flag^infinity degree pays (very appreciative. thanks for the sush) and I get up to walk out. Freeze! No no. It's not time to go yet. Mr. Red Flag must return the signed bill to the waiter in case some lil gremlin is out there trying to steal this guy's credit card information. RED FLAG. Like what is this? 1990!? My date can't figure out why the waiter isn't returning. After 20 minutes of me desperately trying to find common ground I'm about to march the check up to the waiter myself when he finally returns. Whew... I've made it. A short 10 minute walk and I can close this chapter of my life.
Here we go walking down "the strip" and what does this bro decide to do? He tries to stop at every single place along the way! "Ohhh.... we should stop and play pool." "Um... I thought you said 9 pm was your bedtime? And... I'm not good at pool. It's got that whole geometry aspect that just really doesn't do anything for me...." "Ohhh have you been to this place? They have great desserts. Would you like to stop?" "No... I thought you were on a diet?" Shuffle shuffle shuffle and we've FINALLY arrived at our apartment complex. I've made it. NO. Wait... nope. sure didn't. We must stop and talk to the concierge about the cute kids that will be trick or treating. All the while the thoughts in my mind are racing... maybe I could just sneak away into the elevator. Say I've got a stomach ache. Anything. Annnnything just get me home. Whew done with the concierge but OH WAIT. A little girl with a puppy comes out of the elevator. Eff it. I'm never getting home. Finally I just walk to the elevator and push the up button. I'm getting the H-E - double hockey sticks outta here. Oh look. He followed me. Should have tried that ages ago... like when he asked me if I was religious. I get off on my floor. Give an awkward lil wave and "welp. thanks for the dinner! see ya!" Elevator closes annnnd scene.
NEXT BRO PLEASE
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