Nelson Mandela hooked it with Ashley Judd!!

Every morning I walk past this billboard at the Columbus Circle station and EVERY MORNING I think, "That really seems like that means that every single person in this photo has had sex with at LEAST one other person in this photo." I think that that means that Tom Hanks and Liz Taylor did it.

Proof I've been reading Gawker too much

I correspond via e-mail with a man named Adam in my office. Internally all you do is type the persons name and it's sent.

I typed in Adam Levine.

That's right. Of Maroon 5 fame. The man who hot hot Jessica Simpson possibly had an affair with at Chataeu Marmont.

Adam Levine does not do the expenses in my office. He would not care that my boss bought a blackberry case for 17.06.

My e-mail to him however has yet to bounce back. Adam Levine is hot and I am newly single. I'm a big Maroon 5 fan. Well not BIG but I have their stuff on my ipod. BECAUSE, ironically, I heard them on Newlyweds. Adam (Levine that is) also CLEARLY likes girls on the rebound. Also- anything Jessica Simpson has had is good enough for me.

I totally hope he writes back.

Statement I hope to never say:

Remind me to pick up some pepper spray, I'm almost out.

Q: Why Shouldn't I Marry an Investment Banker? A.Because I'm the boss's daughter

This morning in the kitchen at work I was putting together my breakfast (oatmeal, half a cup of coffee and water) when a middle aged woman walked in and we had this interaction:

She smiles at me more than the obligitory, 'I don't recognize you but we work in the same office' smile.

I smile back.

Her: Who's your dad?
Me: Excuse me?
Her: Your dad, you came to work with him? (smiles brightly)
Me: Ohhhhhh.. uh...

I search for some way to tell her but not make it awkward, not before she says:

Her: Ya know I saw the memo about "bring your daughter to work day" but I have 2 sons and I would have brought them. I thought it was in the future though, I didn't realize it was today.
Me: I'm filling in for Megan whose on maternity leave.
Her: So your dad doesn't work here?
Me: I work here.
Her: (factually) But you're too young.
Me: I'm not, I work here.
Her: You are very... you are way too young to work here.

As the conversation continues she never considers the fact that I am not in fact as young as I may look to her. She continues to insist that I shoudn't work here.

I was considering changing my age range when people ask me, as they do at auditions and meetings. I figured I can no longer legitimitly pass for someone in my mid-teens.

Consideration over.

In her defense maybe I shouldn't dress like I jumped out of an American Eagle catalog when I come to work at an investment bank.

I <3 Love

So, yes, this must be addresssed. It is Valentines Day tommorow. I am single. I haven't not had a Valentine since 1999. So do I hate Valentine's Day like a lot of the single female population? HELL NO!

In fact- I hate Valentine's Day haters. I hate anti- Valentines Day parties and anti-Valentine's Day chatter. And guess what's good about being single? I can vocalize my feelings about my hatred for anti-Valentine's Day sentiment. Before it would have seemed obnoxious to hate V-Day haters. Like I didn't know their pain. Well now I know the pain and I still hate the hatred. You think Valentine's day is cheesy? Well LOOK at yourself-- Valentine's Day hatred is WAY cheesier!

I'm not so into the expensive jewelry, high expectation Valentine's day. But, Valentine's Day is a great excuse to go out with the one you love, see a movie, hold hands, kiss in public, order in Thai food, kiss in private, get Vynl's brownie sundae with pistacchio brittle, buy your fave person a gift, get a little gift from said fave person and put off projects you are working on for the day without feeling guilty.

Am I jealous of those couples who will have the excuse to hold hands and kiss in public?
Absolutely.

Will I be jealous of my friends who are in loving relationships and get to express themselves to each other on this wonderful day of love?
Yes sir.

Did I get a little misty eyed watching last weeks Valentines Day episode of the OC? Especially the Seth and Summer scenes?
Maybe I did.

Am I sad that my ended subscription to US Weekly that I recieved last V-Day will be a reminder that my subscription to a loving boyfriend has apparently ran out as well?
Well yes, but my roomate brings US Mag home from work so that's only half a bummer.

But I will not scoff at the couple kissing on the street. In fact I will give them a knowing smile, as I do every morning as I wait at my UWS train station, which seems to be home base for young couples, one of whom usually wears a seemingly brand new (and usually humongous) diamond as they give each other good bye kisses and last minute morning primping before boarding the 1 train.

However, I am not bitter. (And that is not sarcastic). I am jealous, but I am not bitter. And I do not hate Valentines day, but I hate not being with a boy I love on the day of love only a bit more than every day before and after.

You can pity me people- go for it! But don't be a hater! The only reason to hate V-Day is if you hate love, in which case take tommorow to love yourself and go see a good therapist. Me? I have to work at the yoga studio till 10, but I think I see some takeout sushi in my future. Also, the yoga studio is right over Vynl, so that brownie sundae may be in my future as well.

It's amazing this isn't written by me, no?

there-are-worse-things-you-could-do-than-perform-a-play-or-two

I am SO last Friday Night

Last night I was walking down 53rd Street, past the side door of Letterman around that time before the guest comes-- when there are fans and paparazzi all around. I considered crossing the street to avoid it, but that would have been out of my way and I wasn't gonna let these people get me... AGAIN.

Because last Friday night, I was attacked by either paparazzi or a paparazzi wanna be. This paparazzi, if he was one, was a bad one because I didn't realize I was a celebrity. Neither did the others on the relatively packed 1/9 train who clamored and whispered and pointed to me as this really normal looking man beelined towards me up and down the train, jumped in my face and tried to take pictures of me at all angles. (Including at one point through the window of the train.)

But in front of Letterman, no one even recognized me. And as scary as last Friday night was, I was sort of disappointed. That means I'm over. Done. My fifteen minutes are up. So I'm thinking it's not me that's actually famous. No one decided they'd make good money with a picture of the girl from the abstinence film, "I Should Have Waited."

So who did this guy think I was?....... I'm thinkin'....


Any other ideas?