This morning I’m wondering if it’s possible to physically maim yourself from too much fake-niceness. That, or how many years I would get if I maimed Princess. I just find her beyond irritating, maybe because it’s hard to respect someone in their mid-thirties who doesn’t know how to do laundry and complains that her condo in downtown Minneapolis, with its $700/month association fees, won’t sell now that she’s moved into her newly built home in Eagan. Or it could because she says things like “Oh, I didn’t know you were here today” when I got in before her. Or when I’m talking to one of our VPs about books, and she comes up all pouty saying she’s lost an earring. Um, take off your fake zebra print stilettos, get on the floor and look for it. But I digress.
Last night I went to my first JC Happy Hour. What’s JC, you ask. It stands for the Jew Crew; a name my Cinci friends came up with to distinguish between the different people I hung out with. The Happy Hour was at Psycho Suzie’s in Northeast. Pretty sure I’ve never been to Northeast before last night. TomTom led me quite astray, and I had to backtrack when the Lowry bridge was closed. Look, I sound like I know what I’m talking about…I really don’t. cousin Steph and I went together and as we walked in, I found the added surprise of seeing my brother there! For the first time ever, someone said to him, “Are you Jen’s brother?” Ha! That’s what he gets after years of me being asked if I’m Josh’s sister.
The happy hour wasn’t too painful until a guy I’d gone out with once when I first moved back showed up. Can’t remember if I wrote about him – I called him Old Guy (not the 50 year old, someone else) – but I did my best to avoid talking to him. I really didn’t want one of those “So, how come you never called” or “we should go out again” comments. The fact is, I just wasn’t that in to him. This was not helped by him 1. trying to psychoanalyze me on our first date 2. him basically asking why I’ve never been married on said date 3. him calling me, having nothing to say, and then being distracted by watching telly when he called and the final nail 4. calling me on a Friday night to chat while he drives to Milwaukee for the weekend. Hi, my name is Jen. I have a life, so don’t call me on a Friday night and expect me to be home, available and willing to talk about nothing.
Steph said maybe he wouldn’t recognize me. I told her that wasn’t going to happen as he knows Josh, and knows he’s my brother. It also didn’t help when I overheard the words “dating” coming from their corner and at some point Josh pointed to me. Oops.
Other highlights included overhearing a guy introduce himself to new friend, Barb, who was the HH coordinator, and say he graduated high school in 2004!!!! WTF. I swear I got a gray hair just hearing that! Well, if I didn’t “enhance” my hair color I would’ve gotten a gray hair. As Steph put it, when her brother asked if I’d ‘met’ anyone, it would’ve been hard when the median age of the guys there was 21. And let me be clear, I’m not a cougar yet. At this point, I’m just looking to make friends in the city – guys and girls. I can only make the family hang out with me so much before they’ll be exhausted and annoyed.
On the way home, I have to admit I had a little PHHTD – post happy hour trauma disorder. I mean a girl can only take so many stories of hearing about people who are married with kids blah blah blah, while trying to avoid the guys that have looked at her or dated her on lamedate.com. Thankfully, coming up w/ my latest acronym entertained me immensely and I bounced back.
On a different note, this weekend looks to bring some serious entertainment. Tomorrow Leah, Rigley, Gracie and I are going to see the pet communicator. We get to ask 5 questions and hear the answers from the dogs. It should be well worth $20 of entertainment. Then we’re venturing downtown to watch the Badger game with a new JC friend.
On that note, I shall leave you with another Snoopy pic since I do enjoy the Beagle!
Last night I went to my first JC Happy Hour. What’s JC, you ask. It stands for the Jew Crew; a name my Cinci friends came up with to distinguish between the different people I hung out with. The Happy Hour was at Psycho Suzie’s in Northeast. Pretty sure I’ve never been to Northeast before last night. TomTom led me quite astray, and I had to backtrack when the Lowry bridge was closed. Look, I sound like I know what I’m talking about…I really don’t. cousin Steph and I went together and as we walked in, I found the added surprise of seeing my brother there! For the first time ever, someone said to him, “Are you Jen’s brother?” Ha! That’s what he gets after years of me being asked if I’m Josh’s sister.
The happy hour wasn’t too painful until a guy I’d gone out with once when I first moved back showed up. Can’t remember if I wrote about him – I called him Old Guy (not the 50 year old, someone else) – but I did my best to avoid talking to him. I really didn’t want one of those “So, how come you never called” or “we should go out again” comments. The fact is, I just wasn’t that in to him. This was not helped by him 1. trying to psychoanalyze me on our first date 2. him basically asking why I’ve never been married on said date 3. him calling me, having nothing to say, and then being distracted by watching telly when he called and the final nail 4. calling me on a Friday night to chat while he drives to Milwaukee for the weekend. Hi, my name is Jen. I have a life, so don’t call me on a Friday night and expect me to be home, available and willing to talk about nothing.
Steph said maybe he wouldn’t recognize me. I told her that wasn’t going to happen as he knows Josh, and knows he’s my brother. It also didn’t help when I overheard the words “dating” coming from their corner and at some point Josh pointed to me. Oops.
Other highlights included overhearing a guy introduce himself to new friend, Barb, who was the HH coordinator, and say he graduated high school in 2004!!!! WTF. I swear I got a gray hair just hearing that! Well, if I didn’t “enhance” my hair color I would’ve gotten a gray hair. As Steph put it, when her brother asked if I’d ‘met’ anyone, it would’ve been hard when the median age of the guys there was 21. And let me be clear, I’m not a cougar yet. At this point, I’m just looking to make friends in the city – guys and girls. I can only make the family hang out with me so much before they’ll be exhausted and annoyed.
On the way home, I have to admit I had a little PHHTD – post happy hour trauma disorder. I mean a girl can only take so many stories of hearing about people who are married with kids blah blah blah, while trying to avoid the guys that have looked at her or dated her on lamedate.com. Thankfully, coming up w/ my latest acronym entertained me immensely and I bounced back.
On a different note, this weekend looks to bring some serious entertainment. Tomorrow Leah, Rigley, Gracie and I are going to see the pet communicator. We get to ask 5 questions and hear the answers from the dogs. It should be well worth $20 of entertainment. Then we’re venturing downtown to watch the Badger game with a new JC friend.
On that note, I shall leave you with another Snoopy pic since I do enjoy the Beagle!
1 comment:
No, we're not cougars, we're panthers :)
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