Celebrity couple nicknames and my Jessica Simpson tendencies.

One of the rooms recently [mysteriously] started receiving OK Magazine in the mail – naturally I’ve added this to my list of her other mag subscriptions that I steal and consume on a monthly basis.

While I’m guilty of an US Weekly obsession, I’ve never really gotten down with OK. I realize to the lay-person they may appear exactly the same. However, I can somehow justify US whereas OK is just too over-the-top. Come on ladies, I know you agree.

I know, I don’t get it either.

Anyway – the point – ever since I read OK’s last “RPatz and KStew” update, I’ve been obsessed with giving our coupled friends ridiculous “celebrity” nicknames. I won’t reveal them here [just to protect the innocent] but instead will tell you that one sounds vaguely like a dinosaur specie and the other like a porn name.

In short – awesome.

So this got me to thinking … I fear that I will never be eligible to receive a celebrity couple nickname and will instead be of the single-friend contingent for eternity, forced to settle for coining hilariously inappropriate monikers for everyone else instead.

Seriously, I can make "boyfriends" with the best of them. Just yesterday, I went to buy a new AC unit for my window and was asked for my number within about 5 minutes – after telling my hilarious who-could-possibly-be-dumb-enough-to-drop-their-AC-unit-out-the-window-onto-the-sidewalks-of-NYC?: this-girl story.

Unfortunately for him (and me) I really have no interest in hanging out with a guy that sells AC units for a living [ahem, or sanitation workers]. And the boys that I am interested in hanging out with seldom seem to return my admiration.

In short, a case of Jessica-Simpson-Syndrome.

Seriously, she could probably get any ol’ normal guy she wanted (in this analogy sanitation workers and appliance salesman are to me what normal boys are to famous pop stars).

But instead, she goes for the Tony Romos and John Mayers of the world and is rebuffed every time.

Seriously. The only explanation I can come up with, is that we both suffer from occasional lapses into full-on CGS territory – a term my friend Rachey invented to describe Crazy Girl Syndrome:

The condition where outwardly great females - beautiful, smart, funny, seemingly confident - turn into neurotic, psycho bitches who shamelessly obsess and go after typically unworthy guys far longer than they should.

Yep. It happens to the best of us. And approximately a year ago, I had a bit of a Tony Romo sitch on my hands, and decided that I no longer wanted to be that girl - prompting me to let it go and conduct the FB Master Cleanse.
 
Too bad the anonymous gentleman in that post has made a return. Along with my CGS.
 
Here's to hoping that I can hide it, break the Jessica Simpson cycle, and re-kindle my "relationship" with the infamous cleanse-inducer ...
 
Updates to follow I'm sure.

Roommates: Love'm or Hate'm

My living situation has vastly improved since the days of the Crazies. It feels like a million years ago that I was living in an apartment with a “family friend” from Austin. A past life ago that I had to vacate my bedroom every time my roommate (referred to sporadically in this blog as the Daughter) announced that her parents (the Mister and Missus) were coming for a visit.

I’d forgotten how unbearable things had become. I used to stand outside the door to our apartment, holding my breath, listening for telltale sounds of life within, one hand frozen just above the lock, clutching my key, hoping I wouldn’t hear anything.

But of course, the Daughter was always there. She really had nowhere else to go. In retrospect, I find this sad. At the time, I just found it annoying.

You know in Pirates of the Caribbean, how Bootstrap Bill decomposes into the side of the ship and becomes a part of the wall?

I used to tell people that it wouldn’t surprise me if the same thing happened to the Daughter. I could just picture her fused with the cushions, an extension of our couch.

She went through a phase after she lost her job where she lived permanently on the couch in the dark, watching CSI. Of course, all of my friends knew about this habit of hers because I complained about it incessantly (sorry, y’all …) Anyway, I got to wondering once…

ME: I got home yesterday evening and guess what the Daughter was doing... What's that? Did you say, "watching CSI?" How did you know?? She stayed home all day yesterday because she's "sick." When I went to bed - she was watching CSI. When I woke up this morning to get ready for work - she was watching CSI. SERIOUSLY!!! Do you think it's humanly possible to watch every CSI episode ever made? I mean, there has to be an end at some point, right??

LB: Common misconception. There is actually a never-ending supply of CSI thanks to a spin-off for every major metropolitan area, every type of crime, victim, ethnicity, weather-condition, time period, weapon- the list goes on. I would think that much CSI would really start messing with your head. She is probably going to start getting really paranoid and weird- oh wait.

Clearly my friends loved the Daughter as much as I did. But – back to the point – I am proud to say (without sarcasm this time) that my friends actually DO love my post-Daughter era roommates (affectionately referred to as “the rooms”).

And, of course, so do I.

We actually enjoy hanging out with each other. I pause outside the front door and hope for an apartment full of people instead of an empty one.

This morning, one of the rooms and I ran into each other while getting ready for work. We’re all on pretty different schedules, so this rarely happens. And as she walked out the door, after we exchanged “have a good day!,” I remembered how I used to hide in my room while getting ready for work, emerging only after the Daughter had left for the day.

My one year anniversary with the rooms is coming up in March – obviously, we’re planning a date. And looking forward to another year of awesome.

So in closing, I'd just like to say:    Love you girls!

Dinner Party 1C Style.

Tonight is calzones and Gossip Girl Season 1 (or XOXO as one of the Rooms calls it) at Apt. 1C.

While the calzones are long gone, the XOXO is just about to start. First, I wanted to take a moment to memorialize our delicious, hard work. Betcha can't guess which calzones belong to the girls, and which to the boys.

(And yes, the boys are as excited for the Gossip Girl portion of the evening as we are. Err... maybe that's just all the beer and Old Crow talking...)

Gossip Girl: You just got vetoed.

Monday's are semi-bearable, thanks to the promise of post-work Gossip Girl (or XOXO as one of the rooms calls it). While I love our XOXO Monday night ritual (even one of the rooms' BFs regularly gets in on the action) it's sometimes hard to catch everything that goes on underneath the running commentary from the peanut gallery.

It doesn't help that one of the rooms is a law student who loves to point out the improbability of every single tiny little detail of every show. And let's face it - there are a lot of them.

Which brings me to the reason that Tuesday is way better than Monday: Daily Intel's Gossip Girl re-cap, which scores the fake vs. real every episode, indexing the probability that this shit could actually happen.

Favorite excerpts from today's edition:

"The outfits of the Constance mean girls whose names we refuse to remember were puzzling this episode. Each of their school uniforms was accessorized monochromatically: One was wearing all purple, one was in blue, and one was in green. We're too old to understand, but we think this must have something to do with which sex acts they're willing to perform. So Plus 5 for that."

"D: '[Paul Hoffman is] a handsome guy, he's a sophomore, he and Vanessa have a lot in common.'

N: 'He's a douche.' Plus 3."

"Serena walks out of the country house with her baggage and no car in sight, just planning to 'find a cab' in the middle of bumfuck Nassau County. God, she's amazing. Plus 5."

Additional insights from OneC (our apt.):

"Instructing your driver to 'take you to Nassau County' is the equivalent of saying, 'take me to Long Island.' OK, now what??"

"Me and the rooms: 'That girl (Eric's sidekick) totally won her role on GG in a contest.'

Reply from rooms' BF: 'No way, she's totally legit! Didn't you see Spanglish?;" 

"If Willa had been involved in that threesome instead of Hilary Duff, we could have re-named Dan Vanilla."

I can't wait for next week Tuesday...