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Posts Tagged ‘advice’

If you’re looking for a way to break into someone’s conversation, might I suggest this technique, used by a random gentleman in Chinatown last night.

MJ and I had finished our dinner date and were getting ready to head home, when all of a sudden we were approached and heard…

I’m the black rain man!

And then: “Come on, baby dolls, pick a country. Any country in the world!

My gut instinct was to avoid, and just say we had to go.

But then MJ responded: “Japan,” and the self-described black rain man burst out into a rap.

I didn’t catch it all. A lot of it was mumbled. But I did hear the words Nagasaki, Hiroshima, Tokyo, and Okinawa.

BRM: “That’s some educated shit right there! Your turn, baby doll! Pick a country!

And so, being the international nerds we are (phrasing courtesy of MJ) we went a few countries more, with BRM rapping about our choices, and MJ and me trying to understand what he was saying.

When we finally stopped him, being clear that we had to go, he said goodbye and put his hand on my shoulder to impart some final words of wisdom.

Baby doll, listen up. Don’t let him touch you. I don’t care if you have one kid off him or 10,000. Don’t let him touch your *mumble mumble*

And as he walked over to another group, I turned to MJ.

Don’t let him touch my what?

Your vines? I think he said your vines.

Don’t let him touch your vines.

Huh.

I’m sure that’s good advice, but I think I still preferred the country raps.

At least, what I understood.

*That line is original BRM – one of the few parts we understood and remembered.

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Back in September, BNF joined a baseball league and last night I finally got the chance to go to one of his games. One of the first things he told me about when he started was the coach. “He’s really anti-marriage,” he told me. “He actually sent me an article about how marriage is bad for you after I told him I was engaged.

So, naturally, I couldn’t wait to meet this guy, and I was certain that I’d be welcome at the game.

Coach did not disappoint.

I introduced myself when we got to the field, before the guys started warming up.

So you’re going to try that marriage thing?” he asked me. “It’s a mistake. You’ll be so bored. Can you really imagine spending the rest of your life with the same person? God, that’s awful.

When I told him that not only was I excited about my upcoming marriage, but that I was inspired by my parents (who will be celebrating 35 years in November!), it prompted him to ask me how old I was.

You’re only 26? And you can really imagine spending the next 20 to 30 years with the same person?

I’m not really sure how we got from “the rest of your life” to “20 to 30 years,” unless he thinks that everyone dies before 60. What an optimist.

After Coach left the bleachers to go warm up with the team, another guy who had been sitting there the entire time, unassociated with the team, turned to me.

That guy is a piece of work! He’s really something else.

I assured him that I’d been warned and we laughed and chatted a bit. And when he stood up to leave he joked, “Well, I guess I’ll just go back to my “boring” wife of 21 years. I’ll tell her, ‘you know, honey, I thought things were great until I heard this unsolicited advice from a guy at the field – guess we’ll have to change things up.‘”

The real kicker, though, aside from the reaction of complete strangers, came at the end of the game, when Coach started a sentence with, “My girlfriend…

Well, now. I definitely did not see that one coming.

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Two weeks from today I’ll be starting my final year of grad school.

Among other concessions, this means that I’ll be forgoing pleasure reading in favor of things like articles on Pakistan and Islamists; political analysis regarding African issues; and reports of peacekeeping operations around the world.

Interesting stuff, to be sure, but nothing that I’d take to the beach.

And that’s where you all (i.e. whoever still reads after I’ve gone on so many unannounced hiatuses) come in.

I may not be going back to the beach this summer, but I do still have two weeks left to read for fun and I’m looking for recommendations.

There are a few things on my list right now, but I’d love your suggestions. A girl’s to-read list can never be too long.

Plus, even when classes do start up, it’ll be nice to have something on my bedside table that isn’t related to international affairs.

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Dear Brian Wilson,

You kind of ruined the All-Star Game for me.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m happy about the National League win. I like to think that it will come in handy for my Phillies later on down the road. You know, if I made predictions or anything.

But seeing you on camera kind of put a damper on the evening because – gee, how do I put this nicely – you look disgusting. Your beard is awful.

And you should know that I’m generally a huge fan of facial hair. Even unkempt facial hair.

Case in point:

So, maybe I’m still bitter about the 2010 NLCS. And maybe I haven’t forgiven you (or Uribe, or the Panda, or Cody Ross) and that’s coloring my judgment, but your beard still grosses me out.

You know that commercial where it shows what’s living in there? I fear that it might actually be accurate (not the dancers, maybe, but some living organism).

Because I’m such a helpful person, I’d like to offer up a couple solutions to this problem.

1) Get rid of the beard. It’s not often you’ll hear me say that, so take it to heart.

2) Just stop pitching. Quit the Giants (you’ll be better off) and go take up another hobby. A private hobby. Once you’re out of the spotlight, I’m sure this will be less of an issue.

You don’t have to let me know what you’ve decided. I’m pretty smart. I’m sure I’ll figure it out.

For now, I’m just counting my blessings that I don’t have to see the beard in person. I might actually vomit.

Do the right thing, Brian.

Still hating you and your 2010 Giants,

Liebchen

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Let me paint a picture for you, and you tell me what all these things have in common:

Any guesses?

Well, if you guessed that they’re all things I’ll be wearing this weekend for an 80s themed bachelorette party, you’d be correct. Plus some ridiculous jewelry, maybe a headband, and some over-the-top makeup.

And while this might look slightly out of place if we were just traipsing around New York (where the party is), I think we’ll all fit right in when we go see Rubix Kube: The Ultimate 80s Tribute Band.

I admit that I was initially skeptical about an 80s themed bachelorette party, but trying those leggings on really put me in the mood.

Plus, now I can’t wait to bust out my crimper again.

What would you add to an 80s outfit? You can never have too many accessories.

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Outside of my family, I’ve only ever lived with two people.

Jus was my freshman year roommate, and we ended up living together for the next four years.

When I moved down to the DC area, Cla and I spent our first year living in Ballston.

Since 2008, I’ve lived in my own lovely little studio in the District.

But that’s all about to change.

At the end of this month, not only will I be moving to a new apartment, but it will be the first time I’ve lived with someone in two years. And it will be the first time ever that I’ll be living with a boyfriend.

More than anything, I’m excited. Scratch that. Ridiculously excited – like I get that stupid grin on my face when I think about it.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit nervous. My studio has accumulated a fair amount of stuff and as I’ve (only briefly, so far) started to pack, I find myself wondering how everything will fit in our place. And if it won’t, what do I have to get rid of? I’m my mother’s daughter in that sense; I don’t like throwing things out.

There’s also the matter chore splitting. Neither of us are what you’d call “cleaners.” I despise dusting, and gag when I have to clean the bathroom. I don’t fold my laundry immediately, and end up pulling outfits out of the basket. (Wrinkles add character.) So far our compromised is that I’ll do the dishes if he cleans the bathroom. So that’s one thing we can check off.

But those issues, while still important, aren’t half as much on my mind as the fact that I’ll get to come home every day to him. We’ll be sharing all these aspects of our lives – the fun, the serious, and the quirks – even more than we already do. And I just can’t wait.

When I told my parents, I asked my mom if she had any advice on living with a boy. She, being of a similar mindset when it comes to chores, told me that she hired someone to come once a month or so, especially while both she and my dad were working. Wonderful idea, and duly noted.

And now I’m asking you: for anyone that’s ever lived with a significant other, what words of wisdom do you have for a first timer?

I know that compromise will be the name of the game, and that we’ll figure things out as we go along, but I’m just looking for a little heads up.

And while we’re at it, any cleaning service recommendations?

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Can I just say, first of all, you guys are awesome with the advice.

Most recently it was the midterm tips (so helpful, by the way). But even earlier this month, I picked your brains for money saving strategies. I had just gotten my first part-time paycheck and felt sure that, even with my new proposed budget, I’d be dipping into savings before I got paid again.

But I didn’t! I shocked even myself! Hence the Success! title! (And all of the !!!)

I know it can be taboo to talk about money, but I really just wanted to share that, thanks to your advice, not only was I able to stay within my budget, but I was also able to save. And even end up with money left over in my allowance.

Thank you.

I know it’s only been one pay cycle, so who knows if this is sustainable, but it’s small victories like this that really make me feel like I have my act together (whether or not that’s true).

It also makes me want to go out and buy myself something nice as a reward, but that may, in fact, be counterproductive.

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