January 14, 2002

The Mile Square

YES!!! My seemingly endless saga to somehow get a "comments" option on my page finally succeeded. I went through about eight million mistakes...all sorts of weird errors..like all of a sudden the word "comments" would appear in random places (in really big fonts too). But now I'm safe. *Whew*

So Nadia and I were reminiscing over the weekend about all the random crap we used to talk about when we worked in the same building in Manhattan and saw each other everyday. The best thing to come up was the discussion of worst breakups or hit-the-road-Jack lines. Her ex once told her (and I quote) "See, it's like you're a book. You're a nice book, with a pretty cover and fun to read. But I've read you already. So now I'm just going to put you on the shelf, and maybe read you again later on." I think she gets the grand prize for that one.

Monday Night
I went out to some bar in Hoboken called "The Mile Square" with my friend Mike tonight. They have excellent chicken satay and hummus with pita bread. Yummmmmmy. The drinks were a trifle watered down though, which in an ideal world wouldn't happen or would be a crime punishable by drawn and quartering. I might have given this place four snaps in Z formation except they were playing music that almost put me to sleep right there. I heard like a Chicstock version of "Burning Down the House" and just wanted to stab myself. My friend and I did the usual: he griped about work and I griped about the fact that his stories take too long to get to the point.

Key notes of the night:
1. Mike is color-blind and has spent weeks thinking his sweater was green, but it's grey.
2. I decided I would give my entire annual merit bonus to bitchslap this snotty girl at work who annoys me. You know the type, the kind that think they're all that just because they have enormous breasts and work in a male-dominated environment. They conveniently ignore the fact that they have the facial features of men, the I.Q. of driveway gravel and work in a low-end job for minimal pay. Yes, I would most definitely give my entire bonus to backhand her into last week.
3. Apparently Mike e-mailed and called the Editor-in-Chief of Maxim last year and asked him to read my stuff. The editor liked it and told Mike to tell me to submit something so I could freelance for them and I blew him off.
4. Mike has a really sweet timeshare in Vermont and wants me to go snowboarding again but I am less than enthusiastic because the bruises on my knees from last year have not yet healed...they were worse than the knees of a hooker who blows people for cigarettes at the local correctional facility.

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