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I'll be refolding all of my maps....
Jan. 20th, 2004 07:26 pmBusiness cards, in and of themselves, are pretty innocent.
I tend to be a pretty friendly girl. Around people that I'm comfortable with, I'll talk for days. Part of my job description, after all, is talking to people, and in the right mood I'm pretty darn good at it. And so when someone hands me his business card and says that he'll call me tomorrow to see what I'm doing this weekend because he "thinks [I'm] pretty attractive", I'm totally floored. Too stunned to say "I'm busy this weekend and every other weekend for the forseeable future." (Read: until Jeff finds and seduces his tall, blonde, tan, French, Eiffel Tower and Two Union Square blink witnessing, soulmate.) I must come up with a list of ready-made lines on paper that I can just hand over in such situations:
I promised myself not to date anyone over 30 for the next two years.
I have to spend more time with my blender.
I'm building a pig from a kit.
I did my own thing and now I have to undo it.
I have to rotate my crops.
It's too close to the turn of the century.
Monica, the bookkeeper, thinks this is hysterical. "That sort of thing is great. It'll keep Jeff on his toes."
Me, I'm nonplussed. "I don't -want- Jeff on his toes, thanks...he's tall enough as it is."
But really, kids, I don't get this. My whole life, I've gotten the 'why can't my girlfriend be more like you' speech. Now, after eight months in Seattle, I'm -tired- of being hit on already. I feel like a pace bunny. -What- is wrong with the universe?
So what does a girl do in times of need? She passes the buck. If he calls tomorrow, Katie's going to tell him that I'm gay or a circus midget, whichever comes out first. I know I'm a wuss, but I just can't deal.
This Farmhouse broccoli and cheese rice sucks. I want my Lipton rice back...there's a reason it's all I ate in college.
Tomorrow, I'll go to have a massage. This will be good for everyone because I've been sleeping badly lately and this makes me a huge grump.
Also, I wanted to share with you all what I saw yesterday on my way into work:
Across the street from me was a couple, and they were doing a little dance. He spun her and neither one of them seemed to notice, for the moment, that they were in the middle of 6th. But then they came back to earth, and noticed me noticing them, and they smiled and shrugged. And me, I gave them the thumbs up. I mean, what else was there to do?
I tend to be a pretty friendly girl. Around people that I'm comfortable with, I'll talk for days. Part of my job description, after all, is talking to people, and in the right mood I'm pretty darn good at it. And so when someone hands me his business card and says that he'll call me tomorrow to see what I'm doing this weekend because he "thinks [I'm] pretty attractive", I'm totally floored. Too stunned to say "I'm busy this weekend and every other weekend for the forseeable future." (Read: until Jeff finds and seduces his tall, blonde, tan, French, Eiffel Tower and Two Union Square blink witnessing, soulmate.) I must come up with a list of ready-made lines on paper that I can just hand over in such situations:
I promised myself not to date anyone over 30 for the next two years.
I have to spend more time with my blender.
I'm building a pig from a kit.
I did my own thing and now I have to undo it.
I have to rotate my crops.
It's too close to the turn of the century.
Monica, the bookkeeper, thinks this is hysterical. "That sort of thing is great. It'll keep Jeff on his toes."
Me, I'm nonplussed. "I don't -want- Jeff on his toes, thanks...he's tall enough as it is."
But really, kids, I don't get this. My whole life, I've gotten the 'why can't my girlfriend be more like you' speech. Now, after eight months in Seattle, I'm -tired- of being hit on already. I feel like a pace bunny. -What- is wrong with the universe?
So what does a girl do in times of need? She passes the buck. If he calls tomorrow, Katie's going to tell him that I'm gay or a circus midget, whichever comes out first. I know I'm a wuss, but I just can't deal.
This Farmhouse broccoli and cheese rice sucks. I want my Lipton rice back...there's a reason it's all I ate in college.
Tomorrow, I'll go to have a massage. This will be good for everyone because I've been sleeping badly lately and this makes me a huge grump.
Also, I wanted to share with you all what I saw yesterday on my way into work:
Across the street from me was a couple, and they were doing a little dance. He spun her and neither one of them seemed to notice, for the moment, that they were in the middle of 6th. But then they came back to earth, and noticed me noticing them, and they smiled and shrugged. And me, I gave them the thumbs up. I mean, what else was there to do?
