ew.

I feel like EVERY New Yorker is saying this to me. For some reason people directly in front of me on the street--and I mean literally 7 inches in front of me light up a cigarette and take a BIG PUFF which leaves me in a GIGANTIC cloud of nasty smoke to walk through. This especially makes me nauseous in the mornings and makes me sad because my clean hair picks up every smell.



(seriously.. my hair immediately smells like burnt pretzels, hot dogs, and hazelnuts when I walk by these stupid street carts) ----->



Back to smoking... last night on my walk home some foreign language-speaking-biotch burned my leg with her cigarette! I walked away with a stingy, grey line on my thigh and her acting like nothing happened but with a guilty look on her face.

ew. I hate you.

...and you know what you did.








ps. this cig & qtip combo is my current nightmare

I love sequins but

I remember why I actually HATE them. I tried on a sequin dress on my lunch break and the stupid things scratched up my whole face, arms and fingers on the way off! Torturous memories of ballet recitals came rushing back to me.

Is there some sort of sequin shield out there? The longer I look at my arms the more red lines appear! I can't even imagine the battle wounds from actually wearing a sequin dress out all night!

Here's what I imagine before and after being.

BEFORE

AFTER

I need to invent the sequin shield.

memoirs of behhnard.

A few weeks into my old job, just when I thought I was getting the hang of my ridiculously tedious multi-step reporting spreadsheet, Frenchman Behhnard the portfolio manager came to point out something important.

"uhh Jamie, there izz somezzing wrong with thizzz," he said in his French accent.

Shit I must've messed up on the number of shares again, or forgot to change the date, I thought. I always seemed to make stupid mistakes.

"I don't like when thizzz izzz like thizzz. I don't undehhhstand why you would do it like thizzz and not like thizzz." He said as he pointed to the alignment of the lefthand-side staple.

"Oh, ok." I said, unsure of what just happened. Was he really giving me critiques on my staple alignment? He must not know that I am a college graduate. A slightly askew 90 degree angle staple is a problem?! That French asshole Behhhnard is lucky I even take the time to staple his effing sheets.

From that point on I literally had to focus my hands on stapling straight and if it wasn't a good staple I would switch his copy with someone else's. Ridiculous.

Last November I was chosen to go on a business trip with Behhnard to Boston for a financial trade show. I was the assistant who would do all the bitch-work for him. Great, this is going to be the weekend from hell. I arrived to the convention center and our booth had n-o-t-h-i-n-g. No carpet, no table, no chairs. What do I do? I thought about stealing one of the other booth's stuff. No. That's not right. I end up going over to the supply people and order $500 worth of booth supplies. The nice Boston accented workers helped me out a TON and I managed to set it all up. whhheewww.

The next morning was the first day of the convention. My cell phone rings as I am ironing my shirt.

"ughhh Jamie. I have some good news and some bad news. The bad news izzz that I am late coming iiiiin on the train. The good news izzz you get to be a biiiiiig girl and be in the booth my youhhself"

This is just fabulous. What do I know about selling mutual funds??! I stand in the booth from 8am until 1pm smiling and chatting with random passersby trying my best to AVOID talking about mutual funds.

He finally arrives and immediately heads off to get himself a plate of food. This man is unbelievable! I have been standing here for 5 hours and I am starving and my face hurts from fakey chit chat smiling!

"ughhh Jamie, you can go geeet some food iiiif you like" he says. Thanks for the permission, jerk.

The rest of the day goes by with him completely rearranging how I set up the booth, him making me stand in front and smile while he sits and reads his newspaper. He makes me staple his business cards to the flyers. I have shaky hands trying to make perfect 90 degree angles. Just alight the staple parallel to the top of the paper. You can do this Jamie.

At one point he had the brilliant idea that all Chinese people at the convention were wealthy investors and he literally made me CHASE a group of Asians across the convention center to give them a brochure. This is humiliating. THEN he has the idea that I am a good salesperson and says he wants me to hold his sign and walk up and down the aisle Vanna White style to advertise our booth. I refuse.

At the end of the night he disappeared for awhile and came back with purple stained teeth, smelling like a bottle of merlot. This is when he begins quizzing me on option trades.

"iiiiif your jacket costs $100, at what price do you sell the rights for someone to buy iiiiit at $90?"

huh?

He continued to try and give me examples of ways that I would understand the concept of a put and a call. I had been in this convention center booth for 12 hours and am being quizzed on OPTION TRADES by a drunken Frenchman. I DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS RIGHT NOW. Lucky for me, the convention center lights were shut off in the middle of this conversation, but he continued the finance tutorial sesh all the way up the escalators, out the door, and the entire cab ride to the hotel.

The next day was a half day, but my cell phone rings at 6:45am with Behhnard telling me to go buy markers and tape because he wants to make a new sign for today. I fast forward my makeup and hair straightening routine so I can run to Staples. He is unhappy with my purchases and makes me go buy another kind of tape. This man is impossible. What I should have bought at Staples is an easy button.

The second it is announced that the day is over he packs up his wheelie suitcase and leaves me to pack up all the stuff and tear down the booth by myself. Why was I surprised? After that I passive aggressively made his staples a just a little bit crooked.

PDC: Q-Tips

Americans as a whole are considered clean people. Compared to our European counterparts we may seem a bit obsessive. We generally shower everyday, brush our teeth twice a day, clip our nails, and frequently wash our hands. We use waterless hand sanitizers, sanitizing wipes, anti-bacterial band-aids, anti-bacterial sprays, you name it we've got it. Grocery stores have sanitizing wipes for customers to wipe off their cart handles. I was shopping this weekend and Purell bottles seemed to be everywhere! Nordstrom had a bottle and the NineWest outlet had one on every shoe display counter. Whenever a Purell bottle looks me in the eye I feel dirty if I don't use a little pump or two. We hate dirt and bacteria and will do whatever it takes to combat it! But I'm realizing that this cleanliness has gone a little too far. Are all of these Public Displays of Cleanliness done to prove that we are hygienic? Are we so worried that people won't think we are clean that we must perform these PDC's? I mean I used the Purell so my fellow shoppers would know my hands were clean. Other people must feel this way too.

Most of the time in a big city it is hard to feel clean. I walk along littered streets all day where pollution and cigarette smoke are blown right in my face and freshly Herbal Essenced hair. It takes a little getting used to. There are the obvious things you'd expect to see on any city street: trash, cigarette butts, gum, dog poop. But then there are the unexpected things I've seen: clothing sensors, various animal parts (I saw an entire frozen pig once), Diaper Genie, squashed rats, vomit, avocado pits, playing cards (Jack Burger wasn't kidding in Sex & the City), shrimp shells, my list goes on and on.

For some reason what bothers me the most are Q-Tips. In a city sprinkled with cigarette butts, the presence of Q-Tips almost goes unnoticed, but not by me. Not only is it disgusting, but also confusing. Since when has it been acceptable to be walking down the street cleaning out your ears?! Do people I know actually do this? Please fess up now. This is PDC taken to a whole new level!

This has become a mystery to me and that's partly the problem. Never once have I seen someone walking across 14th street, digging a Q-Tip in their ear, yet the remnants are undeniably proving that it IS happening. If you're going to leave the Q-Tip behind for all to see, wouldn't you want to take extra long, reveling in your PDC making sure all of NYC knows your ears are wax free?

Proving that you are clean is one thing, but where have manners gone? At one point in time wasn't it considered rude to even apply makeup in public? Women had to excuse themselves to the powder room to powder their noses (is that why small bathrooms are called powder rooms?) Now it is not uncommon to see women applying full faces of makeup on public transit.; drawing on their eyebrows and lip liner on the C train. I've seen the worst of it too--boogers and "feminine napkins" in fitting rooms, nail clipping in church and cubicles. I even saw a woman standing on 57th street loudly clipping away her 10 fingernails in the middle of the day. But the worst has to be Q-Tips on the sidewalks! I don't even want to imagine what's coming next and I am still on the lookout to see some Q-Tipping in action.

The more I think about it though, the more my PDC theory makes sense. The makeup applying girl is proving that she has a clean face and isn't wearing last night's makeup leftovers. She's basically saying to her fellow subway riders, "I showered today, I swear." So seeing Q-Tips on the sidewalks should be assuring me that my fellow New York residents are cleaning out their earwax. But for some reason it grosses me out too much.

when pigs fly

I sit at my computer with chappy, extra dry, ashy hands from obsessive washing. I choked on my own spit today and forced myself to hold in the instinctual coughs out of fear of being quarantined. I don't want anyone to think I'm sick and I really don't want anyone to know I traveled to MEXICO in the past month! Beware of the swine flu!

I understand this is a very important current event but I can't help rolling my eyes and saying "yeah, yeah... the pigs are sick. What's next?" I don't mean to make light of the situation because I know hundreds of human lives are at risk, but these things are constantly happening and consequently turning people into germ-a-phobes too scared to normally go about their lives.

The first thing I ever remember making my childhood world a scary place was E. coli. In 1993 Jack-in-the-Box was making people sick. Then Odwalla juice got the blame in 1996. This ruled out Mango Tango, Superfood and Sourdough Jacks for me for awhile.

Last summer it was Salmonella tomatoes, now it is Salmonella peanuts and Salmonella sprouts. I try be aware of this kind of stuff but not let it scare me too much. I still take an occasional candy break and munch on peanut butter M&Ms only to have it rudely interrupted by someone in my office creating a big fuss because I choose to eat dangerous peanut products! Give me a break.

Then there are the animals. We have bird flu, swine flu, mad cows, hoof and mouth, cat scratch fever, Lyme disease, Monkeypox! Zoo goers will soon be on suicide watch.

I'm not going to lie, this stuff does scare me and I am not being purposely ignorant. I take the necessary precautions that they tell me to do: I wash my hands frequently, don't touch my face or eyes, etc. That's all we can do, right?! There's no use in getting worked up about it. In the meantime, I think I will have a Jack in the Box burger with a side of tomatoes and sprouts, followed by a piece of peanut butter pie. I'm a real dare devil living on the edge. I'm pretty confident that the day I come down with something will be the day pigs will fly. Oh wait, the swine already flu. Shit.

MANicure

I love a good manicure and pedicure. I've talked about this before. I also love getting massages and getting my hair done. I love just about anything that will improve my outward state and is considered pampering. I hope others get the same happy, clean, relaxed feeling that I get after a fresh coat of polish or getting my split ends trimmed away.

Spas historically have been reserved for women to disappear and reemerge happier than ever with bouncy, vibrantly highlighted hair. All we know is that the beautifying processes supposedly scare away men: thick green mudmasks with cucumbered eyes, silver alien foils in the hair, and the parmesan-like shaving of the heel skin. However, now that we're living in 2009 in the land of equal rights, men are not scared they're joining in! It is not unlikely to see a male getting his heel callouses shaved like parmesan too. Men are welcomed into this world. At some nail places you'll see men's manicure or men's pedicure (rightfully at a higher price). Men's grooming is not only limited to a hot shave and a #2 buzz cut at the neighborhood barbershop anymore. There are full service men-only spas dedicated to the pampering of our modern day dude. Equal rights 2009! All men and women with calloused feet unite!

I have to say that I am all for men getting pedicures. Who wants to date a boy with some nasty foot fungus or thick yellowed baby toenails? That is some nasty shit. I am a big fan of the metro sexual male who knows how to groom himself properly. That way I will not have to be the girlfriend who is forced to pop his bacne and remind him that he should have 2 eyebrows, not just 1.

Anyway, I was at a nail place with my pampering-loving friend Juliann and in walks a man who peels off his socks and dips his feet into the sudsy jet-powered pedicure water. I whisper to Juliann to look at his nasty baby toenail and we both cringe at the thought of the poor girl having to cut that thick, brittle nail and having to put her face so close to those rank feet. Although, in the end of it all I think good for him. It's great that this man wants to have pretty feet too. Juliann and I went over to the nail dryers to finish up our experience and I turn around to see this!
Pedicure dude is now onto his manicure with his ASS CRACK HANGING OUT. Ok, it is great that men want to improve and maintain their appearances, but isn't there something wrong with having nicely filed nails, clipped cuticles and a very exposed plumber's crack? Is he trying to prove a point and show everyone his level of masculinity? Or maybe, I thought, he is just airing out the area because next on his list of treatments is a waxing! And from what I could see, that would probably have been a good idea.

the baggage claim game

I remember those golden travel days of yesteryear when I could quickly check in my suitcases, breeze through security sipping my grande nonfat no-whip white chocolate mocha, then I'd buy Cosmo at Hudson News, give the plane a little "trusty plane" good luck tap when boarding (it's tradition) and then enjoy my in-flight meal and watch a movie with the headsets the airline provided. This was the way I traveled back in the good old days of my teenage years.

Now I have to dish out $15-$25 just to check a bag. The airlines are forcing me to pay more than my self tanner and hairspray are worth just so I can travel with them! I have to rid myself of any liquids I may have "accidentally forgotten" in my carry-on bag; I refuse to do the Ziploc bag thing because it just seems so dorky. I have to take off shoes and practically strip naked to get through security, have to use 4 of those stupid white bins to get all the stuff organized correctly for the x-ray machine, by the time I get to the gate I am still readjusting my clothes and can't afford Cosmo anymore. I give the plane my "trusty plane" tap, board the plane and then I begin to starve to death since I now have to pay for anything more than the bag of spicy pretzel mix the flight attendant slams on my middle-seat tray table.

Let's be honest. Flying is awful. It has lost all of its glamour and excitement. Sometimes when going through security I have a daydream that this is me stripping down to enter a concentration camp. Morbid, I know. But it is pretty bad and it will probably continue to get worse. Perhaps they will start charging passengers for the required seat belts or install credit card machines for those passengers wanting to use their overhead lights. 50 cents to use the onboard bathrooms?

But I must say that the absolute WORST thing about traveling is the baggage claim. For paying $25 to check my bags, you'd think some beautiful male model in a captain's suit would personally deliver my suitcases to me but NO. I have to fight to even get a view of the bags which are haphazardly thrown on the carousel. As soon as that orange indicator light goes off, people suddenly go loco. The pushy people crowd around the metal conveyor belt blocking the less aggressive travelers' views and access to retrieve their bags. My after-Christmas baggage claim experience was the worst. Continental, WestJet, Alaska AND JetBlue were all on the same carousel and it was PACKED like 6 people deep just to get a glimpse of the shiny moving metal. I walked around the circle looking for a sparse area and BINGO! I found the perfect spot...or I thought. I failed to realize that a father-son duo was blocking anyone else's view with THREE Smarte Cartes! I couldn't see anything, I couldn't go anywhere, my bags could have gone around 7 times but I was blocked by this idiot Crocs wearing duet. The dad loaded their carts one by one and the son would push them back behind me bumping into everyone apology free. I still could not get any closer to the carousel's edge. Anytime there was 6 inches of space, someone else out of nowhere would swoop in and steal the spot that should have been mine! This always happens to me. I don't understand why people can't stand back a little bit so others can see. Is it a race that no one ever told me about? This man literally put his red Croc foot up onto the ledge of the baggage claim to further block anyone or anything that might come in his way!

Maybe everyone is worried about travel procedures continuing to change for the worse and are afraid that if not claimed quick enough they will be penalized with some sort of "you took too long to get your bag" fee. Who knows. I wouldn't be surprised.