Monday, January 31, 2005

I got Fandango'd, but I didn't even get kissed...

Vanessa here!

Monday morning...back to work, trudging through the brown slush and sixteen-foot snow drifts that are apparently permanent fixtures now here in Beantown.

The date? that what you want to hear about? Well, fine...

To recap, I was set up on a date by my roommate, Mia, to go out with this Harvard grad student named Roland Wexelblat. Don't let the name fool you, ladies, he was a babe and a half. Corn silk colored hair, blue, blue, blue (did I mention they were blue?) eyes and a bod that said "Hi, I work out six times a week." Too bad the personality and manners didn't live up to the pretty packaging.

So, I'm standing there at the Park Street Station, freezing my japonica plant off, when I see this guy with no coat bound over to me. First thought was, "Dude, it's twenty degrees," but then I was horrified to see that he was wearing FLIPFLOPS! No...I'm not kidding. Flipflops from the Harvard University bookstore, apparently, since there was the Harvard crest on them. And Roland didn't seem bothered at all. He had on baggy khakis that drug the ground enough to show a circle of wetness from the snow and he wore a maroon t-shirt (that read "All this and Fresh Breath") over beige long johns. Oh...and let's not forget the backwards cap.

Did someone not tell him this was a date? I mean, I shaved my legs for goodness sake!

Fine. I try not to judge. We walk over to the alley to Sweetwater Cafe. Roland pulls out this coupon for a free appetizer and orders Buffalo wings. Then he says to me, "you want something?" Umm...YEAH, jackass! I ordered spinach and artichoke dip, which I paid for myself. Apparently, going Dutch is something big from where he's from.

Oh...that would be Rome, Georgia. He went to undergrad at this small, Baptist college called Shorter College. Then, he "came North" to go to grad school. On his cap was a cartoon image of the statue of Romulus and Remus with their mother wolf. He said there was a statue just like that in Rome and one time, he and his buddies put Pampers on the statue...and the hat always reminds him of that. Why he feels compelled to tell me this, I'm not sure.

I'm going with the flow, though...trying to be charming, tossing my hair just right, asking him questions about himself. He dropped a blob of blue cheese dressing on the sleeve of his shirt and proceeded to lick it off. It prompted me to order a second appletini.

So fine...Sweetwater was a bust and I'd used my getting home cab money to pay for my snack and drinks. We get to Loews Theatre on the Common and he pulls out his credit card from his wallet. Cool...he's going to be a good date now and treat me to a movie. He walks over to the Fandango machine and swipes his plastic and turns to me and says, "I hope you don't mind, but I went ahead and bought a ticket to THE AVIATOR." Fine with me...I want to see Leonardo. Then, Roland turns...with one ticket in his hand. Umm...where is mine? This guy actually Fandango'd himself, but I had to go stand in line. Thank heavens the Fleet card has some dough on it. The nerve of him! I mean, what i the eight o'clock showing had sold out or something? Would he have expected me to go see something on my own and then meet up later? This was fast becoming the strangest date ever and I began thinking of ways to torture Mia for this set up.

We get into the theatre and it's packed. I mean, paaaaaaaacked. We had to sit all the way in the back, crammed in the middle, and I had to hold my coat the whole time. About an hour and a half into the movie -- nearing the second time Leonardo crashes a plane -- I hear this light snoring. I turn and look and it's Roland! Propped up with his chin in his hand, he's out cold. On screen, an airplane is shattering, exploding, crashing into the roofs of, flames, poor Leo screaming...and Roland is asleep? He must sense I'm looking at him because his eyes pop open and he wipes at non-existent drool and says, "This movie's too loud to sleep through."


Needless to say, after the movie was over and we wandered back into the cold, I headed straight for Park Street telling Roland I had an early cardio kickboxing class (yeah, right!) in the morning. He smiles, tells me he's had a great time (what????) and moves in to kiss me. Is this guy insane? I mean, he's cute, sure...but does he really think I'm going to give him some tonight? But wait...he didn't kiss me, but instead, rubs his cheek against mine and half hugs me before saying we should do this again.

I don't think so, spud.

I stopped at the corner market on the way back to my apartment and bought a bag of Lindt chocolates and a bottle of Wolf Blass Yellow Label Shiraz and realized that I'd been Fandango'd, but I hadn't even been kissed. Some Friday night. I think I'll stay in this weekend.

Double Vee

Friday, January 28, 2005

I can't wait for the weekend to begin...

Vanessa here...

Like my tribute to Michael Gray's new hit dance song, The Weekend?

I'm working, all week long,
I dream the days away,
I wanna... sing my song
so let the music play
I have to get my fix, and fly tonight
and when the clock strikes 6, on Fri-day Night
I need to blow it all away...

Okay, one needs to hear me sing, eh?

I'm back and it's Friday. Friday, I tell you! Is it just me, or has this been
the longest week in the history of mankind? I've had enough of two hour commutes, jammed-packed trains and salt spots all over my lovely Italian leather boots that I got at a wicked good sale in Toronto a couple of years ago. (Vanessa's Bargain Shopper Tip for the Day: Head north to Canada for shoes, ladies...they're high quality, sturdy and they don't cost a fortune.)

I wish I could say I'm going home right after work today to curl up with a bottle of Pinot Noir ('cause it
is the best red wine on the planet and I'm not drinking any f*cking Merlot!!! she said in her best Miles from SIDEWAYS impression), but noooooooo... My roommate, Mia, has set me up with the brother of a roommate of this doctor she works with. Too many degrees of separation for my taste, but hey, she's a good enough friend to get me out of my hibernation. (Course, that meant I had to mow my legs this morning. Not like I'm expecting to get any tonight, but a girl does need to be prepared.)

Dude's name is Roland Wexelblat. Doesn't that sounds like someone who works in the infectious disease unit of the CDC? Not exactly the name I can see myself writing "Mrs. Vanessa Wexelblat" in my notebook in curly lettering during the boring marketing staff meetings here at work. But Mia assures me that he's Chad Michael Murray-ish in a One Tree Hill way...only with hair. So, I'm giving him a chance. It's weird, though. I'm meeting him after work at the Park Street Station and then we're going to dinner and movie from there. I hope he lets me pick the movie and I'm not stuck watching ARE WE THERE YET? or that dead people speaking through the television static movie.

Roland is in Boston as a grad student -- which makes me think he might be a little bit younger than me -- at, of all places, Harvard. So, he's got to be smart, at least...right? Mia tells me he's from Rome, Georgia. I wonder if he'll have a deep Southern accent. I mean, I grew up in Northern Virginia mainly, but I still find Southern accents a little hard to understand if they're too, too deep -- course, try talking to someone from here in Dorchessstah! : )

I went all out dressing up today. Black boots (with three pairs of socks), check. My new Diane Von Furstenberg wrap-around dress that I got off of Bluefly with the 10% discount I won last week for playing the "Win a Closet full of Jimmy Choos" contest. And of course, a fleece jacket under my Kenneth Cole coat and two scarves because, man, it's frickin' freezing here, Mr. Bigglesworth. When does that stupid groundhog come out to tell us when this frigid existence will end?

So, that's the big plans for the weekend. That and a PROJECT RUNWAY marathon this weekend on Bravo. Love that show!!!! (Check it out, if you haven't seen it. )

Well, wish me luck with my date tonight and I'll be sure to report back in if there are any details...and no, there won't be those kind of details to report.

Double Vee

Thursday, January 27, 2005

Look at me, ma...I'm blogging!

Vanessa Virtue here! Welcome to my little nook of the world wide web. I hope you bookmark me (ouch!) and come back often. (That doesn't make me sound slutty, does it?)

My friends have been telling me that I needed to write down all of the shit that happens to me on a daily basis living, commuting and working in Boston, Massachusetts. I am a female Larry David...honestly, believe me, and no, it doesn't curb my enthusiasm. So why not spill my guts to anyone in the world who wants to read about my life? (Waving my fans in Kazakhstan -- no seriously, I know someone who lives there!)

A little background on me. I'm in my early-to-mid-to-it's-none-of-your-business twenties and I work in what's left of the world in Cambridge as a marketing assistant. I'm a tried and true veteran of the wars and have lived through a couple of dot.bombs, only to rise up another day. These days, we take the ".com" part off our corporate name so no one will mistake us for those companies of yore, bursting at the seams with idealistic young people in jeans, hockey jerseys and t-shirt, working 14 hour days to carve out their niche in the world. I miss the late 90's and all the freedom we had in the workplace, don't you? Beer Blast Friday...monthly pizza coffee and sodas. Now, I'm back to buying all my own lunch foods, carrying change for the $1.25 Coke machine and wearing pantsuits, nice tops and makeup every day.

Don't even get me started on how I had to give up my scrunchies for a "more professional" do!

I'm an Air Force brat and have lived many, many places, but I decided to make Beantown my home after graduating from American University in Washington, DC. Just had to get away from the major, the mom and the monstrous little sister, Victoria. I love Boston because it's not a big, big city like New York (man, do we have major little brother syndrome to New York here in Boston!), but it's not Generica where everybody knows your name and the best places to go out for dinner are The Olive Garden at one end of town or Ruby Tuesday's on the other end.

I'm currently single, but am doing my damndest to do something about it. I seem to be really, really good at first dates, but beyond that... Course, the dead-ass of winter isn't exactly the best time to be scoping out potential dates, what with having to layer up to look like the Michelin tire man every time I go out of the house. The restaurants and clubs are full of snow-soaked, tired, coat/scarf/glove laden people and quite frankly, after the long commutes from my apartment in Davis Square (that's in Cambridge for those of you not in the know of the lay of the land), all I want to do is curl up with my daily dose of The Food Network and whatever wine is on sale at the corner liquor store.

My roommate Mia (Fatima to her mother and grandmother) Pimental does her best to try and drum up good looking medical professionals for me -- she's a doctor -- but they never really work for me. They always make me feel stupid with all of their talks of diseases of the day and what pharmaceutical rep came in with tchotchkefor them to give out. I can't tell you how many pens I have with names like Cialis, Sarafem, Reglan and Nexium. Maybe I'll name my baby one of these one day. (I kid you people!)

Check back for more on my adventures. Time to bundle up, get on the MBTA with the rest of the weather-weary lemmings and make my way home. It's Thursday, which means JOEY, WILL & GRACE and re-runs of QUEER EYE FOR THE STRAIGHT GIRL. Hmmm...maybe I can get the gal pals to come fo a Vanessa Virtue makeover. Maybe not!


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