Hey, What Are You Reading?

So, I’m sitting at the pizza place across the street slowly sipping a giant glass of Pinot Grigio and reading my book when a bunch of sexy firefighters come in to pick up pizza. And by pizza I mean a stack of large pizzas. (There is a football game on, the place is getting crowed with pick-up orders.)

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Full Disclosure: That pizza/wine photo was from the pre-cleanse send off. But I love to rip the bubble off so I took this photo and would also like to say I’m sorry to everyone across the street for past and future impropriety.

BUT, back to my story. Saints Game! WHO DAT!

This very sexy guy in uniform interrupts my reading with a “Hey, what are you reading?!”

And I flash a copy of Technical Editing, Fifth Edition. And then he says “Wow that is so cool, I’m actually looking for someone to edit my dissertation and none of my friends will help me.”

(Insertion: I look super hot because before studying I went out to brunch with one of my favorite ladies and then got my nails done. I’m still rockin’ an all-black super cute skirt and tank combo and have on and this amazing purple shade of lip gloss.)

I have no idea what I would charge or what it would entail but it seemed pretty flirty. No man has ever asked me “What are you reading” when I am clearly not seeking attention unless they are actually trying to flirt. But I don’t know. He actually might need help? But who interrupts someone clearly not aware that there is a game on just trying to carb binge and who says “cool” to Technical Editing, Fifth Edition who isn’t flirting?

In any case, I wrote down my phone number and my email. (I mean, hottie fighting fires while he finished his PhD. SWOON.)

They walk out.

And then the woman next to me GUSHES about how he was just flirting with me and OMG yadda yadda yadda.

THEN, I get an email. Like within minutes!?

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Ummm what does that mean? That was so fast. Did he think he was going to forget?! So I waited like an hour… finished my wine and wrote back. Because I assumed he meant “editing” and maybe more… wink, wink.

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And then since I had his name I looked him up on Facebook. (UGHGHHG) And sent this:

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And then this happened:

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Ahhhh I am so awkward. ALSO: “Not too many New Orleanians interested in reading and writing” is a big fucking red flag. NOLA is where so many famous writers come to write and there are a slew of us competing for the same limited jobs.

I don’t even know. I was confused. Was he really looking for help? Who the fuck reads a Technical Editing book at a pizza place during a football match? (Me.) Or, as the rest of the crowd seemed to think, was he hitting on me? Or just wanting to fuck because he totally just got kicked out and no one was misreading the situation, I just have no filter and made it weird??

Who knows because at this point I’m drunk even though I ate a whole calzone the shape of a football because I was just finishing a cleanse. (Makes total sense, don’t judge me.) BUT JUDGE ME FOR THIS: and never, ever again wonder why I am single.

First I wrote, “Interesting.” SEND

Then I wrote, “I am confused” SEND

THEN I WROTE:

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Shockingly, he never wrote back. And that doesn’t even make sense? Anyway. Curtain call on that one. Sorry hot fire fighter, it wasn’t meant to be.

 

“If You Can’t Be with the One You Love…”

If you were going to say “love the one you’re with” – you are wrong. That is a terrible idea. Especially when you are in your thirties, as I recently found out thanks to a certain Doctor-In-Training.

I can literally count on my fingers (maybe even one hand!) how many times I went out with Doctor-In-Training. I was trying to keep it casual (something I’ve never been able to do) and give the whole “dating” thing a whirl but he seemed to be thinking “lets move this out of the sack” and “let’s spend weekends this summer on tandem bikes together” or riding in (insert two person manual boat here) on the bayou.

I actually was kind of down with it. Crazy, right? I liked a boy. (Okay now you can sing the full chorus of the titular song.)  It didn’t hurt that he was (and I guess probably is) a really good kisser. And the right level of smart nerd to appeal to Yours Truly.

Anyway, those cute texts about duo activities aside, we only saw each other on the weekends. For like one month (max). And then I had finals and he was starting a new rotation. Sure, I could have texted, but I was wondering how many hours of reading it would take before my eyes literally bled and decided it was on him to check on me.

I had a library buddy, my favorite one, so I was already set on company. (I was also feeling pretty bloated from downgrading my meals to pasta with butter and cheese and sour patch kids.)

So I didn’t call and he didn’t contact me either. Not until Friday, anyway. Six days after he haaaadddd to take me out for my birthday despite my objections that I needed to study. (Dinner, by the way, was great.)

But back to Friday. My phone rings. (You know how I feel about calling over texting…SWOON)

Until I found out the purpose of the call. It went like this:

Doctor-In-Training: “We need to talk…”

Me: “…Okay???” (is that how you start a conversation about what movie we are going to watch!?) < clearly not >

Doctor-In-Training: “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you (emphasis on really) but I’m growing attached and I don’t see this going anywhere.” You know, “No FUTURE.”

Me: (silence because I am more angry than sad because I’ve been at the library and that definitely could have waited until TOMORROW.) Finally, “Wow that is shitty timing.”

Doctor-In-Training: “There is no good time”

True. There is no good time to break up with someone. But, categorically, there are better times and worse times. Worse being my cat just died, better being I just went for a run and I thought you were calling to make pool plans.

Also not good: after a really hard week of finals when (BTW) you didn’t bother to call me either. So. Glad you stewed for five days and made a decision. I HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER.

Nothing really more to say.

But wait, whoops: There was me, sending random and mildly arbitrarily-timed but angry (and occasionally drunk) text messages.

Great news though, a full two (three?) weeks later I got a message that included “I’m obviously missing you. And I’m not sure I should have left you.”

LEFT ME!? Okay that implies that there is a mortgage and a child, and I don’t know… a relationship. But thanks dude, you are not confusing at all.

Anyway back to “If you can’t be with the one you love” … because there is an answer and it is great:

Respond to the super cute boy who’s been messaging you (who cares if he is 7 years younger than you!) because you know what won’t happen after three HOT weeks of that? A phone call from him that says “I don’t think this is going anywhere.” Because he’s 24. And that, my friends, is pretty hot. He’s old enough to have had a serious girlfriend so the training wheels are off. Fun times. I highly recommend it.

 

 

A Defense for After-dinner Drinks and Return of the Sometimes-boyfriend

The after-dinner drink is pretty darn great. So what you had a cocktail or two and a bottle of wine and maybe even some champagne or other bubbles over the course of the meal. The joy of the after-dinner drink is that no one can criticize you for it.

If you order an amaro or some other aperitif after consuming all of the above listed beverages over dinner, no one will judge. They might even give you a little respect for solid ordering and general dining know-how.

In case you can’t tell, I’m a fan. I’ve grown to enjoy the slightly herbaceous taste of many amari and seek them out when possible. Mmmmm after-dinner drinks. Yeah!

I went to two separate tastings that featured the Cocchi Barolo Chinato and both were served with a bite of dark chocolate. YUM. In case you are not familiar, it’s a lovely creation from Piedmont, Italy featuring DOCG Barolo and infused with herbs and spices. It’s delicious.

When sometimes-boyfriend had a birthday coming up but was moving and therefore not doing anything for his birthday*, I planned a fun birthday dinner out a few weeks later, followed by champagne and cake-baking at the house to celebrate.

I found this amazing recipe on Smitten Kitchen, one of my favorite cooking blogs. It is called “Red Wine Chocolate Cake” and includes ¾ of a cup of wine in the recipe. I thought it would be super fun and classy to substitute the Cocchi Barolo for the wine and also sip on a glass of it while we enjoyed the cake (once it was finished baking.)

A few things: If you decide to give this a whirl, there is cinnamon in the recipe and cinnamon notes in the Cocchi Barolo Chinato, so don’t include the 1/4 tsp of cinnamon. It is a bit overpowering. Also, not going to lie, for a non-baker it is not the easiest to execute a cake when you are full of giggles, kisses, wine and general euphoria. My point being that it is possible that I was a tad sloppy with the measuring of the cinnamon and put more than what the recipe called for.

Nonetheless, the cake came out pretty well. As I mentioned, a little cinnamon-y and perhaps a tad dry because we were distracted and our creation stayed in the oven just a tad too long.

Hey! Don’t judge. Have you ever tried to bake a cake a little bit tipsy with a hot date? Even with the minor hiccups, the cake was a solid recipe and you should try it. Probably do it with your best friend or someone who actually likes you.

*He did go out on his birthday. I just wasn’t invited. (You are shocked, I know.) Cheers to me for planning such an extravagant day to make up for his “lost” celebration.

Damn you, Emily!!!! (WAG MY FIST IN THE AIR)

Awhile back I got a promotion, and with it a sweet new phone. I had a sometimes-boyfriend and it was looking like he might become an all-the-time boyfriend. I really liked this guy so it seemed like things were on the up and up.

Turns out I was wrong. Sometimes-boyfriend decided that he didn’t want to be my all-the-time boyfriend, but since he’s such a stand up guy*, offered to still help set up my new fancy iPhone.

Great, fantastic. It was fun, we had a good time and now I had a cool new iPhone like many of my hip friends. Sometimes-boyfriend set the whole thing up – my email, Facebook, Instagram, the Find My iPhone and also got me a few cool apps I’d never heard of. I was good to go and set off to learn about hashtags. #awesome.

Time passes and eventually, because it’s me, I lose my phone. “DAMN IT WORLD (whiskey?!)!” I bemoan, as I shuffle through my sheets, my bag from last night and every crevice of my couch. But then…a light. This phone is not like all of my other basic phones; this phone can be tracked! Huzzah! I win.

But wait, I’ve never used the Find My iPhone before. So I take to my computer, looking on iTunes, searching the web. WHERE CAN THIS MAGICAL MAP BE!?

I can just hear my phone taunting me. “I’m not like a regular phone, I’m a cool phone.” (Boobs bouncing in my face.)

Finally, I Google search, and voilà here is a map and it has a dot with an iPhone. But wait… it says Emily’s iPhone. I look further, not only does it show Emily’s iPhone, but it shows also shows her iPad, her MacBook Pro… ALL OF THE GADGETS! Ugh this bitch Emily has all of the toys and still I can’t find my phone. I’m pissed. Sometimes-boyfriend clearly set up my phone wrong. Who does this girl Emily think she is, anyway? Sure he was my sometimes-boyfriend but seriously, WTF.

Naturally, I take to g-chat to unleash my fury on sometimes-no-longer-boyfriend. “WHO IS EMILY!?” I want to know. “WHY CAN I ONLY FIND HER STUFF ON THE MAP!?”

He is confused. He literally has no idea what I am talking about. It’s confounding. The conversation is basically pointless and comes to an unsatisfying end.

End story.

Just kidding. I know…you are wondering, “Who is Emily?” and “Did you find your phone?” So I will tell you. Turns out, Emily is the default used to preview the Fine My iPhone app. My phone was at the bar where I left it and I could find MY phone by logging into the Cloud. And my dignity? Well… this was all too funny for me to worry about that.

Whoops.

I did actually apologize for the whole g-chat thing. But still… Emily, you kind of suck.

*Kidding.

Tinder is Stupid and Chinese Food is Delicious

So you read my last post, and you are like “Fuck you, Andrea. I don’t feel like defrosting the salmon in the freezer and I just tossed the kale today because I prematurely went grocery shopping and that shit was wilting.”

Fine. Me too. Don’t worry, order Chinese take-out. Definitely bring that home. I am absolutely not condoning a spree at some random buffet. You should have that number saved, and a back up number in case your first choice happens to be closed.

Christmas? No worries, I’m a Jew…that’s a thing. At least in the Northeast. Not sure about Louisiana but it is probably true here too. Unless it’s like bagels, in which case I’m sorry for getting your hopes up. And also don’t feel bad because they probably make a TON of money on Christmas. My work is open 365 days a year, and you know what…that’s their thing. We deal.

Chinese food is basically the cure-all, and can be consumed in bed if you really are feeling like getting down with it. It also makes for great leftovers, so don’t worry if you open the bag and they gave you utensils for 5. No big deal. You know there is no family eating this smorgasbord and they might too but they’d rather err on the side of caution. PLUS think of all the fortune cookies you get to open and not eat. Jackpot.

It’s better than Tinder. 30 seconds on my friend’s the other day I nixed everyone. And remain adamant that I will never, in fact, download that App. (Guess who learned what an App is? THIS GIRL!) Group picture? What the shit is that? I am not trying to group-date. Can’t tell how tall your are? Nope. Picture looks like it is ten years old? Definitely not. I’d rather cuddle up with some Chicken with Asparagus and Hot and Sour Soup.

The Break Up Diet and other Healthy Eating Tips

Supplies

It is important for a girl to have some basic items on hand. Considering I have been more or less broken hearted for the better of the past two years, I have quite well established a method. When a boy breaks your heart, the initial instinct is to never get out of bed again. That lovely empty too sad to eat feeling is always the jump-start to The Break Up Diet. Wanting to feel as empty as your broken heart, let yourself just be engulfed by all of its tragic sadness, fear and longing. However, that won’t go on forever. As much as you want to wallow, it will eventually become less of a thing and you will need to get the fuck out of bed. And when that happens, you need to cook something amazing, healthy and nutritious. So when you jet off to the store to buy your umpteenth bottle of red wine to mourn your loss, pick up an avocado, a carton of eggs and some fresh kale.

What Should Already be on Hand, All the Time:

Go to the fish counter, have them cut 6 oz pieces of wild cut salmon, skin on filets that you can individually freeze in zip lock baggies.

Whole Grain Mustard (can stay in the fridge forever)

Quinoa

Raw almonds

Canned Tuna

Mayonnaise

Lean Ground Turkey (Freeze That Shit)

Laughing Cow Light Swiss Cheese Spreads

Some kind of bread (multigrain, English muffin, whatever you prefer)

Pasta

Also, go for a run. And kiss a pretty girl. They are soft and lovely and it will make you feel better for the moment. And then make a sandwich, because sandwiches are delicious.