Does Debbie

Monday, January 30, 2006

Monday Morning Racism

Thanks to my friend Jeff for this one:

So I was in Mt. Snow, Vermont this weekend, chilling at the ski share house. The conversation turned from porn to racism, and Jeff showed us this website link he had been forwarded.

Harvard is conducting ta study to see what our unconscious behavior reveals about our attitudes towards racism, homosexuality, women in the workforce, and more.

Fascinating. Although it turns out I am secretly a gay black man.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

My Mood

I'm in a rather shitty mood today, and really have no desire to write in this damn blog. But since writing always makes me feel better, I thought I'd give it a try. Sticking to the crap mood theme, I have decided to make a list of things that put me in my various moods.

Things that put me in a good mood

1. Receiving a compliment. Or oral sex. Same thing
2. When Jack Wagner comes onto the radio, blaring "All I Need"
3. Counting 1 less dimple in my ass

4. A clear, sunny day. A full moon (not that kind, you perv)
5. Going to Whole Foods and swirling out their home made peanut butter with chocolate

Things that really piss me off
1. Eating an amazing meal, only to have to run to the bathroom less than an hour later

2. Hootie and the Blowfish on the radio
3. Crappy episodes of LOST- what the hell was that last night??
4. The smirk. Could there be any worse facial expression?
5. People who send you monthly emails of their children without asking

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Profile Oops

So I'm having a crazy day at work yesterday, trying to get everything done in time for the Billy Joel concert (which was awesome, by the way) when I receive an annoying email from my sister.

"I just re-read something in my jdate profile that I did not write and I am very upset. If you wrote it (since you are the only one that has my password, which is now changed) I do not think it is funny and I think it is very immature! "

This peaked my interest immediately. Granted I do have my sister's password. However, I have not been on the site since early December when she made me look at her new pictures and see if any of the men she wrote back responded. Of course I changed her profile when she first gave me her password months ago (e.g. what you learned in past relationships: I don't like dutch ovens,) but this time the culprit was not me.

Immediately, I asked what was changed, to which she replied, "Under the About Me section, someone wrote that I liked to give oral!!!!!"

This was hysterical. I wish I could have taken credit for this, although I would honestly never write anything that crass (seriously, I wouldn't.)

Well that explained the spike in hits to her profile.

Sunday, January 22, 2006

Sexual Valley

"They" say that men hit their sexual peak at about 18; women at 35. Which might explain Mary Letourneau. However, it doesn't seem to explain the diminishing sex drive that seems to have hit me (and the majority of my friends questioned about this topic the past few months.)

As most of you know, I'm 32, which means that I should be still climbing the mountain of sexual womanhood. I should be ready and able any morning, afternoon, or evening, with twice on Sundays. I should wake my man up with surprise loving. I should be Debbie Does Dallas, not Does Debbie Blogwriter. And yet, I'm not.

And what is the excuse that seems to encapsulate my sexual being: I'm tired. Yup, if I had $200 riding on a bet between sleep and sex, and sex was given 14 points, sleep would still win. It's not like I'm an investment banker and working around the clock. And I am not standing on my feet all day long spraying perfume at Bloomingdales. I have a desk job, and I am still fucking tired every night.

You might be thinking, maybe I should have my thyroid checked. Maybe I should drink coffee later in the day. Maybe I should try Vigorelle.

Or maybe I should stick to the one safe-fail method that gets me freaky: alcohol.

Next blog: cure for my alcoholism. : )

Friday, January 20, 2006

The Matchmaker

So as you know, I spent last week in Tulum, Mexico at the amazing Amansala resort. Within a few minutes of landing in Mexico, we met the other New Yorkers on the trip (and on our flight.) We all had to take a van to the resort together, which gave us a good hour or so to get to know each other.

Interestingly enough, the first woman I met was the professional matchmaker. Or shall I say, THE professional matchmaker. Janis Spindel Serious Matchmaking. Janis Spindel Serious Matchmaking, Inc. (can't forgot the Inc.) Introductions were made between us in the van, and in no more than 3 minutes, I knew that Janis was the cover story of the New York Times Magazine last year and was on the Today show numerous times (including this morning.) She had 750 marriages under her belt. Not only that, I was told that I should already be engaged to the man, and that we should have discussed this at the 3 and 6 month marks.

Oh boy, was I in for a fun week.

It got better. Janis brought several copies of her book Get Serious About Getting Married with her to Mexico. Fun! Free beach reading. Nope. Janis was in fact selling her book to her fellow trip mates. And did I tell you that she had 750 marriages under her belt?

Over the next five days, I learned a lot about dating and getting married, thanks to Janis (and her book which I was tricked into buying.) I found out that men like women with long hair and that every woman should own a Pucci or Hermes scarf. It was also revealed that I have walls and it is obvious my parents were divorced.

All that, and a nice suntan too.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Bad Day

I'm in the worst fucking mood today. It's only 11:42am, and I have been in this foul stinking mood since about 9:07am. At that time, I was supposed to be watching my friend Jessica's son get his little penis chopped, and instead, I was arguing with the 3rd Avenue bus driver. Can someone please explain why the HELL she was in the turn lane near 59th street, when she clearly should have gone to the left of those damn cones. I am not kidding- it took my over an hour to go 37 blocks, straight up 3rd Avenue. I know, I should have taken the subway, but since I live on 3rd Avenue, and was going straight up 3rd Avenue, and it was raining, I thought that was the driest, least smelly route. WRONG.

Once I got to the bris, the baby was already put to sleep in the other room. And I was surrounded by all couples, who had babies. I honestly wanted to end my life right there. This was my friend's second child. Everyone was talking about pre-school. Barf.

I lasted about 25 minutes, and then needed to get to work. I decided to take the subway this time, as my office is on Park Avenue. Again, I waited forever for public transportation, and the subway was crowded. Everyone was wet. Someone farted. Please, get me out of this misery.

Finally, I walked into the office, around 10:40, and have to work. I brought my office mate Tequila samples from Mexico and I think I am going to open one now.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

Small World

Last night was the wedding of my friend, Tracy. She and her now husband Eric were married downtown at the beautiful Angel Orensanz Foundation. Of course the man came with me as my date.

This was the second wedding we have gone to together; the other wedding was also a friend of mine. The man did not know anyone that that wedding. Last night was quite different.

During the day, I gave him the 411 on who the bride and groom were, how I know them, what to expect, blah blah blah. At the groom's name, a quisitive look grew on his face. Eric P? (yes) Where is he from? (Queens or Long Island) How old is he? (a year older than you and his brother is a year younger than you.) There was definitely recognition, but the connection was not made.

Flash forward 5 hours. The bride and groom are at the altar, exchanging vows. I looked at the man, and he began to smile. I couldn't figure out what was so funny? The reverend conducting the ceremony was humorous, but I don't think that was it. Why was he laughing? Is marriage funny to him?

Then he leaned over and shared the cause of his smile. It turns out he remembered how he knew Eric. It turns out that in college, he used Eric's ID to get him into bars. For one year, my man was Eric P. Small fucking world.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

My Trip Home

Ahhhh, vacation. I just got back from 5 incredible days at Amansala's Bikini Boot Camp in Tulum, Mexico. What an amazing trip- 4 mile walks on the beach every morning, yoga, massages, fun exercise classes, excursions, and delicious, healthy food. More trip stories to come another time.

Anyway, as you all know, I travel to Minneapolis way to often. Yuck. The plus side of that is the number of miles I have with NWA/Continental, which allowed me to go to Mexico for free. However, on the return trip, I had to switch flights in Memphis.

Oddly enough, I went to Memphis for work this summer. Not a great place to be for an hour after a healthy vacation. My 45-minute layover turned into THREE hours. And all I was surrounded by was barbecue and more barbecue. I actually just bought a Dannon yogurt. Needless to say, my trip home was almost 12 hours.

On the flight from Memphis to NYC, I was seated (in first class due to benefits of Gold Elite Status) next to this 50-year old man headed to New York to lead a seminar. Unlike coach, people are much more talkative in first class- the free wine often the culprit. Anyway, over the course of a two-hour flight, I was amazed, and quickly repulsed, at the topics this man initiated with me. For example:

1) He made his first million by 30 in the stock market (and let me cut you off now- he was African American, married, and not my type)

2) He wanted my advice on speaking with his daughter about sex (gross and weird)

3) I mentioned an idea I had for a store, which happened to include sex toys, and he wanted a description of what type of sex toys- the kind with batteries (even grosser and weirder)

4) He asked if I have ever modeled, then told me he uses this as a pick-up line (ok, get me off the plane now!!)

5) He told me what hotel he was staying at (thank god I can see the skyline!)

Anyway, bolted off the plane and made it back to my apartment. Totally missing Mexico. This weather sucks. Later- my story on the professional matchmaker that happened to be at Amansala on our trip.

Friday, January 06, 2006

Been a While

So the most random thing just occurred: I picked up the phone at work, clearly expecting to hear my mother's voice on the other end, and instead heard an old college friend, Noid. It had been a solid 4 years since we had spoken and Noid had tracked me down, wanting to catch up.

Like most, I enjoy surprises, and this one was no different. However, within 4 minutes of catching up with Noid, I realized that this surprise was different. It was kind of like a balloon with a small hole in it, nice at first, and then it loses all its air.

You see, Noid told me all about his suburban life: his house in Connecticut, his one and a half kids, his stay-at-home wife. Bitch. Then came the dreaded question, "so, what's new with you?" Grrrrrrrl. Now even though my life is great, I hate answering this question when asked by a MISP (married in suburbs person.)

In the 4 years since I last spoke to Noid, not much had changed. I still live in the city. I have not procreated. And I am still not married. Good times.

The conversation got worse at that point. Noid then ran through the list of friends we had in common and asked about them- P- married. M- married with 2 kids. S- pregnant. Wow, was I having a fun Friday or what? My saving grace came about 6 minutes later- my mom finally called.

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Non Drowsy

It's less than a week into the new year, and I'm already pissed off about something. Forget the fact that I had a bad cold during New Years. Or the fact that I was at a romantic bed and breakfast, and felt too sick for sex. Or even the fact that I spent all last week studying up on my poker game, and lost a full house Kings over 4's to an asshole at the table who also had a full house- Aces over 4's.

Nope, I'm pissed about something else. Fucking Sudafed. Yup. All you meth users out there, you can have your pseudephedrine crap. I'm done with it. You see, the label clearly stated Non Drowsy. So I took it during the day on Sunday, and passed out cold. Non-drowsy my ass. Then, since it worked well as a sleeping pill, I took another dose Sunday night. Only to be up the entire night. That time Sudafed decided to work like Speed. I woke up this morning (if you even call it waking up- it was more like deciding to get out of bed) a zombie.

Then came the decision point: I was flying to Minneapolis this morning, and still felt crappy. To take the evil Sudafed or not. If it kept me up, it wasn't the end of the world; if I slept on the plane, more power to me. And Afrin is just too damn addictive. I decided to take the awful little red pill.

I slept about 17 minutes on the plane and am so exhausted. Ugh, can't win.