Episode 29: The F Bomber
Starring:
Liz Tailor, Daniel Berlingeri & Mike Moreno
Ethical Closet (Click the links below):
Sponsored by:
(Click here for more information on our sponsor: Licensure Exams)
For more information on the companies we partner with and what they stand for CLICK HERE, and for more on the fashions and where to get them CLICK HERE.
Check back every Tuesday for brand new episodes!!
Starring Liz Tailor
and Francis McCloud
Clothes: Liz – Lucy Dress by Liz Alig, Cobalt Peep Toe Flats by The Root Collective, Bling Collar Necklace by Noonday Collection, Handwoven Solola Foldover Clutch by The Root Collective, Green Button Earrings by iSanctuary
Click for more information on the companies we partner with and what they stand for and the fashion and where to get them.
Last night, after a delish-ful reunion with a certain red-headed roommate (who was gone from my life for 5 whole days. Wah!), at Lillie’s on W. 17th, we stopped to get a donut at Dunkin. Cause sometimes a girl just needs a giant cinnamon coffee roll (don’t judge me!)
So we’re walking and talking and eating, a difficult combo by the way, And just imagine the conversation taking place, if you will…. yeah, you guessed it. It was about Star Wars… what the hell else would we be talking about? In the middle of this convo, i start to choke on my coffee roll. And I said to Roommate, “If I die please don’t tell anyone that my last words were about Star Wars.” To which she replied, “I think your last words should absolutely be about Star Wars. It would be completely appropriate!”
And I couldn’t help but agree. My last words in this life should not be tearful goodbyes to my loved ones or final prayers up to the Lord. They should 100% be about the greatest movies ever made in this lifetime!! So I have decided what my last words will be.
“Han shot first!!!” (Am i right, nerds? Can I get an Amen!)
Artwork by: Fitz Fitzpatrick
Last weekend my 3 girlfriends and I went out for drinks at a usual haunt that we enjoy.
One friend is married. One friend is practically engaged and one friend is single like me. She also happens to be my beautiful, nerdy roommate.
Now, to clarify, we do not go out to these places trolling for men. We are all of a similar mind in believing bars to be the worst place to meet someone of substance. We go to enjoy each other’s company. It’s not our fault that we end up always accidentally meeting jerks and weirdos!
Anyways… roommate and I were having a very intense conversation about how a coworker of hers thinks every character in Firefly is basically a different iteration of Han Solo and how even if that’s true, there’s nothing wrong with that because Han Solo is the archetypal dream boat and a cast full of Han Solo’s can’t be a bad thing. Then we began to categorize the things we liked best about said scruffy-looking nerf herder.
All of a sudden we looked over at our, very happily taken, friends only to find them being thoroughly hit on by some normal looking guys. (They ended up being jerks, normal!) The two single girls were clearly too busy talking about a galaxy far, far away to notice anything happening around us in real life. Even a few cute guys. Story of my life!
I looked at her, pushed my invisible spectacles up the bridge of my nose and said in a nerdy nasal voice, “Do you think this is why we’re single?” Her response…”Yep!”
Classic Nerd In the City!
A couple weeks ago, Grace Kelle and I were out as usual. And we met these 2 guys. The one I ended up talking to was funny and nice and cute so I gave him my number.
At the end of the night he (of course) invited me home with him. Promising all kinds of “fun.” I immediately regretted giving him my #, but what’s done was done. When we parted, he said he wasn’t sure he was gonna call.
Which is a weird thing to say to a girl whose pants you want to get into. When I got home, this is the text that awaited…
“I’m still deciding…”
Yuk!!! After receiving that I wrote back,
“If you have to think about it then you can go ahead and forget my number.”
And my question is… why even bother? Don’t take my number. If all you want is sex and I clearly am not giving into that, then why show any interest beyond that?
Just move on to the next pair of breats and save me the trouble of deleting you… you idiot!!
After my post about the douchey married guy, my grandmother sent me a message expressing concern for me and encouraging me not to go to bars to meet guys.
Let me assure you… I do not go to bars expecting to meet Mr. Right. I don’t even expect to meet Mr. Nice. But you never know.
Which led me to comtemplate… where is a 21st-century city girl supposed to meet a nice, nornal, attractive, available, straight man?
When my grandmother was a young woman in the mid 20th century it was easier. The world was smaller. You met a man at school or church or down the street.
I’m no longer in school so that isn’t an option. Church would be ideal but 5 years at The Journey Church and still nothing to write home about except for some exceptional men who are already married. The down-the-street idea is romantic but literally doesn’t exist in NYC. Knowing a neighbor is rare enough. For that neighbor to be a tall, attractive, single male… well, it’s just not likely.
Which leaves the online dating option. Been there, tried that and the guys online can be just as douchey as the guys in the bars except without the excuse of alcohol.
The gym breeds obsessive hard bodies. And as interested as I am in being healthy and staying relatively fit, I could not be considered a health nut or particularly hard of body. So once again… dead end.
Add to all that the fact that the first date is a non-entity thanks to social media: facebook, twitter and dating profiles, and it becomes nearly impossible to meet a nice, normal man to believe in and date.
And don’t forget that I’m a nerdy girl. So to find that socially adjusted, , brave, nerdy man is even harder. (There’s a whole separate list of where to meet those men to come.)
I’m constantly on the lookout but not the pursuit. I kind of think that when the time is right that Mr. Right will somehow sense it and come running.
Until then I choose to enjoy life and the crazy stupid circumstances I so often find myself in. I can’t say it hasn’t been entertaining.
And if I ever figure out exactly where all those good men are hiding in NYC, then ladies… I will let you know!
[Disclaimer: this is not a story for grandmas, moms, dads, brothers or the faint of heart. Shocking language is involved.]
Went out with wingman… wingwoman… wingperson extraordinaire, Grace Kelle the other night.
While shopping for a few good men (for me.) We stumbled upon a group of 4 guys. Two of them were brothers and the other two they had known since the first grade, or something.
They were nice and we started chatting with them. About what we do, what they do, etc. Upon hearing that we were wedding planners one of the guys, we’ll call him Allen, told us that he’d recently gotten married and that his wedding planner was not so great.
To which we responded ‘what a shame’ ‘too bad you didn’t know us’ etc.
About 20 mins later this same ‘married’ guy comes over and sits next to me. And proceeds to hit on me… hard.
I was appalled thinking the schlep was married. Come to find out he made it up to start up conversation with us.
This is apparently a way to meet women in his mind. I say ‘in his mind’ because I want to assure all you men out there that this is, in fact, NOT a proper way to strike up a conversation with a lady.
The entire rest of the night as he tried to hit on me and reassure me that he was free, I still considered him married.
Here’s when it got really good. He offered to take me home so we could have sex. To which I answered that I wasn’t that kinda girl. He asked if I’d ever done it. I was honest… ‘nope.’
His eyes got really big. Like Indiana Jones when he finds that gold monkey head thing. The treasure he’d been seeking.
And then he drops this one on me…
‘The things I could do to your vagina.’
At this point my brain flat lines because I’ve just heard the word vagina whispered into my ear at 11pm on a friday night in the middle of a crowded bar. And ps… the word vagina is not sexy when spoken aloud much less so when whispered in my ear by a douchey stranger.
And so the search for an upstanding citizen of the male persuasion continues. Yet my faith in the gender continues to dwindle. What is a nerd in this city supposed to do?
