I have been in bed all day ill with some kind of weird cold or something. I can't even remember the last time I was sick. But desperation has caused me to watch On the Lot on Fox-

I just found out that Micheal Bay directed the new Transformers movie. I don't know jack about the transformers (um hello, I played with Barbies) but I do know all the boys are affectionately masturbating to the idea like it's their first Playboy. BUT does any of them realize that Micheal Bay directed it- the Micheal Bay, whom/who directed Pearl Harbor or Armagedden or the Island?

You have to wonder if this movie won't completely suck similar to all of the other movies with the Micheal Bay stamp on it.

Wow, I am thoroughly intimidated. I met a guy last week who's a phd in philosophy, at the time I thought he was really cute despite being 3 years younger than me. We had a magical night at Mars Bar (of all places), okay not really, just interesting conversation. I was going to call him on the advice of a friend, but I don't think I could possibly intellectually interact with this guy. I googled him and found out more than I think I wanted to know. I never google guys, but I wanted to make sure he was actually who he said he was and not some 18 year old or worse. (He kind of looked young! I got worried!)

Now I don't know what to do. It's been like 5 years since a guy has intimidated me. He reminds me of the type of guy I always wanted to date in college, 4 years ago maybe I could have interested someone like him- but wow, now I don't think so at all. I worked in a mathematical psychology lab for two years and I understood maybe half of what was going on, that was almost 8 years ago. I have several friends who are academics but they are also extremely charming and intrigued by me and the type of life I lead as well as my interests. They spend most of their time in mathematics, robotics, and design; being friends with me is a break from their mundane professions. That's completely different.

Sample email from my logician magician (my pet name for him) who used to work for NASA (yes the one with the spacecrafts):

Me: I saw this and immediately thought of you! Hope all is well!

Him: Hilarious! I actually saw that Cosmo, took a look, and was so
disappointed myself.
-----------
What do I do? Call or text or drop it? I think I may drop it. Personally, I don't think we would have anything in common.

That's disappointing. I need to get a job, not a boyfriend.

I shouldn't have drank a mocha from cocoa bar- now I am the only person awake- you all suck!

Last night, the sad little chief of the Union Square subway precinct asked me, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven”, I replied as he shook his little head at me and watched me walk off. It’s been more than 12 hours and his question still bothers me. Is he my father? I jumped a turnstile, I didn’t rob a bank, yet the man in the white shirt felt the need to express his disproval of me.

Yesterday wasn’t a good day for me- at all. I got “dis-invited” from a work meeting which never bodes well and is indicative of the constant lack of communication between me and my boss. I explained to a friend the other day that 90% of our problems are due to poor communication and talking is 85% of the time the solution. I am trying not to take my employment issues personally, but I can only do 50% of the work in any relationship. Whatever.

After moping around Park Slope and Prospect Park for most of the day, I decided to go to running club. I have absolutely no idea what any of my friends are up to- due to lack of communication. When I was severely bummed out over work, I didn’t have anyone to call and talk to- so I went and ran with a bunch of strangers in the rain. We ran through the Upper East Side and central park. By the time we were done, I had no makeup left, my hair was saturated and I didn’t have an inch of dry clothing- but it felt fucking fantastic.

The problem with joining any club is getting past the sexual issues, the fresh meat. Joining anything opens you up to new people, new people you specifically have not had sexual relations with. I have disabled almost 90 percent of my charm; I keep my conversation limited, and try not to flirt. Essentially, I have made myself into a very boring person. Last night I really began to notice how much I have curbed my personality to keep myself from doing something stupid or (heaven forbid) hooking up with any of the men. And some of them are fucking cute, it takes a good portion of my will power not to giggle and flip my hair. With respect to my blogger friends, I would love nothing more than to turn back the clock and not have dated some of the blogger males. Because that didn’t lead to the most awkward year of my life or anything.

So begins the era of new responsible me. I keep my relationships very private, I don’t need to sit around and rehash every moment with whatever guy is in my life at the moment. I am attempting to compartmentalize the ways in which I meet them and to make sure they stay separate from things I really enjoy doing. It’s probably why I haven’t had a date in 3 months, but I can’t handle having to go through a breakup and a friend breakup.

What was running through my head at midnight last night when my new friend K pulled me through the emergency exit door after my metro card wouldn’t swipe – not a damn thing. What was running through my head as we were escorted to the station and K patronized the police officers for 20 minutes for “picking on nice girls”- not a damn thing. When the opportunity to open my mouth for the first time during the 30 minute ordeal, what did I say, 27.

Recently I joined the Hash House Harriers; they identify themselves as “drinkers with a running problem”. Personally, I think the group is a lot of fun and it’s become one of my favorite pastimes. You go to hashes, run the sometimes “hidden” trail with the pack and end up at a lovely bar where you pay $15 to drink and eat pizza for an indiscriminate amount of time. Seriously, it’s a lot of fun.

Last night, whilst chatting with the Hash crew, they were explaining to me the whole hash naming process. I am a long way from the naming process to be honest as I have only attended 3 thus far and none in Manhattan as I am lazy and don’t feel like drinking in the city.

Joining a new group has me thinking a lot about groups I have joined in the past, I have belonged to a lot of social clubs. Some good, some bad. The bad ones I didn’t usually attend more than once or twice but the breakups with these groups became somewhat legendary at the time. At the age of 23 and 24, I was kicked out of two drinking clubs for being “too cute”. Interestingly enough, I started two rival clubs that ended up with a bit more success than the two I was kicked out of.

Someone warned me that hashing can be addictive. One of the reasons I have been actively seeking new groups is because I want to meet new people. In my 4 years in NYC, a majority of great friends have left the city, I need to replace them. Friends drop like flies here all the time, it makes me sad. If one of my regular crew left, I think the world would stop turning, and it would be a major catastrophe. But on the other hand without, Diddy, Juan, Joe, Marc, and Ali, I might actually be able to get a date. Just kidding.

For the past year, I have been a New York Blogger, known as feistyred. On my birthday party evite, it stated “Alice’s (aka feistyred) Birthday Party” just in case my blogger friends couldn’t remember which blog I wrote. Over the years, I have befriended E.V. Idiot, dmbmeg, monkeypants, spinachdip, loggedhours, girlalsoblogs, whitedade; live with now retired Fauxy; life long friends with rumandpopcorn and drunkbrunch. Whom I have only called Chris, Meg, Mo, Suki, Kate, Jaime, Matt; Heather; Ali and Amanda. And many many more.

At a recent Last Call get together a couple of new bloggers showed up and we did the little dance of introducing ourselves as our blogs. When I meet new people, I try to purposely never bring up my blog name because if you google it you can find every username and profile as well as my blog. I especially don’t like boyfriends reading my blog; I make sure to never mention the words blog and feistyred to them ever. None of them found my blog last year, I did something right.

Upon further thought, it doesn’t really bother me if I never get a hash name (though it kind of sounds cool and is something of a huge right of passage) because I unfortunately am stuck with feistyred for life.

Also seen at.

About a year and a half ago, I was forced off of blogger because I couldn't post entries at work- the girl scouts. Heaven forbid anyone have fun during the crappy corporate restructuring. It was also before I knew anything about wordpress. For months I have been wanting to move back to blogger and have sometimes posted there, because no one knows about the blog anymore, save for one or two people.

I am going to gradually start moving my blog back to feistyred.blogspot.com. I will post concurrently, but eventually just end up back over there. I really can't stand easyjournal. You can't post pictures and I have tried numerous times to upgrade the blog with little success. It also has alot to do with why I stopped posting on here, it's always such a bitch.

We'll see how well this works out.

Tomorrow at 3:11pm I will turn 27 years old.

I have been in New York for 3 years and 9 months, it's officially time for me to get a new gym membership as my 3 year one with Crunch is up. I never thought I would make it through the whole membership- that's crazy.

I am now a member of NYSC, three years with one gym is a long time, I needed a change.

By the way, I ran 9 miles last week for the first time ever in my life. From South Slope to Union Square, it damn near killed me.

And I still don't have any birthday plans for tomorrow. Suggestions? (I don't think we are doing the strip club idea anymore)

Each week, I come to work on a college campus. I really love the environment, eating in cafeterias, and conversing with students. It reminds me of the good old days of Indiana a mere four years ago.

Every time I come, someone always asks me what year am I and major. It's really strange to be asked that after four years out of college. Today, I decided not to wear makeup, something people almost never see me without. I look like I am 18, as I have red hair and fair coloring. I completely fit in.

Here I am, a week before my 27th birthday, dressed like a college student and conversing with 21 year olds. Lunches and book clubs with women in their 40's and 50's. Happy hours with my 20's and 30's friends. Mentoring college students. I am the ultimate intergenerational person.

Tonight after a long run through Park Slope, that vague area below flatbush and "almost" carroll gardens, I checked in at mapmyrun.com. I mapped a couple of my runs and made plans for the 8 mile jog I am planning from my apartment to Union Square. Hopefully this weekend.

I woke up this morning at 5:30 and in a tired haze thought to myself, I bet I could run 13 miles if I really tried. I was awake until 7am after that and had a lot of time to think it over. After mapping my run, I didn't realize how far off target I was. Last Thursday, I ran 7 miles in Manhattan and around 6 miles tonight. After you get past mile 4, it is so easy to keep going. For me the first 2 miles are the hardest, I can't breathe or concentrate, and then all of a sudden the tension and thoughts clear.

I am so impressed with myself, the last time I ran 8 miles, i.e. anywhere past 3 miles was in 2001.

Now, I have to get some new shoes to keep from getting shin splints and I am all set.

How embarrassing is it when a guy you might or might not like im’s you to ask you about your behavior in bed days before? Pretty fucking embarrassing. At this point in time, I don’t want to talk about any intimate issues with any men. I just started dating again, give me a break!

Why did I act weird when there was a goodlooking guy in my bed? I managed to keep my jeans on and my wits about me, but at the cost of a damaged male ego.

Well, Alex, I have no clue as to why, I am going to throw some ideas out:

-Unless I am in love, I really prefer to sleep alone. (true….)
-Maybe I really like you and you freak me the fuck out.
-Maybe I suspect you are still hung up on your ex girlfriend.
-Maybe I just didn’t want to have sex with you because you live in another state. I have told you before I don’t do one night stands.
-Maybe I cringe whenever I think of long distance relationships.
-Maybe I secretly want to marry you and have 10,000 of your babies.
-Maybe it’s because when I was 18 you didn’t give me the time of day, and last Saturday you were sniffing my hair and telling me how beautiful I was.
-Maybe it’s because I just got my heart broken and I don’t fully trust men again yet.
-Maybe it’s because you are just really fucking cute.
-Maybe it’s because after I developed a tiny crush on you, you crushed me by telling me you had a girlfriend at the time.
-Maybe it’s because my roommates were home and bringing guys home is extremely embarrassing.
-Maybe it’s because the whole thing is a bit surreal and I prefer to stay grounded in my daily life.
-Maybe it’s because you smell nice and I liked it way too much.
-Maybe it’s because I don’t enjoy emoting like a girl and prefer to keep my relationships at this point- noncommittal, casual, and nonexistent.
-Maybe it's because I want to explore the man scene right now.
-Maybe it’s because I suspect the time is not right for the two of us right now.
-Or maybe I just like you and acted like an idiot shy 18 year old girl.

Pick one of the above.

Seriously, I don’t know- it could be any of these reasons or none of them. I DON’T KNOW.

Let's please not discuss this again!

So tomorrow is the first meeting of our new little social club Last Call.

You should join.

I have a really great story from this weekend involving a guy I met 9 years ago. I am writing it right now, but it will probably take a day to post.

I think I should entitle it, "What's it like to make out with your old college crush whom you haven't seen in 9 years?"

Answer: Pretty fucking confusing and weird.

For some reason this year I am really pissed off about having to figure out what to do with my birthday. Especially when friends bitch about my suggestions and make me feel bad. At this point, I am tempted to disappear for the 4 days I usually celebrate- and either a. make new friends (online or something) or b. fly to some remote location and celebrate alone.

I can't think of a remote location, but I am checking out expedia right now.

If worst comes to worst, my actual birthday is my bookclub night and I can celebrate it with those fabulous ladies.

All my best work in college was done between the hours of 6pm and 6am. I would stay up all night before an exam, sleep three hours, then breeze through it and crash for the rest of the day. I also had some huge insomnia issues but whatever.

Being productive from the hours of 3 to 6am is great, being an insomniac between the hours of 3 to 6am is maddening. Last night I worked till 3 am to complete all my work so that I could bask in the warm glow of spring today. Then from 3 to 6am, I tossed and turned, overthought my whole life, watched Sixteen Candles, and even thought of just screwing sleep altogether.

So here I am, on this lovely Friday, pumped full of caffeine and running on maybe 2.5 hours of sleep. I am perfectly aware I am going to crash at some point. Over the course of today, my brain is going to slowly shut down, I am going to become socially retarded, and physically exhausted.

I think I need a nap. And it starts.

Last night at the big man's birthday party, we invented a new game- balloon wars. That was probably the most fun I had had in a really long time.

It's a fun game really, it involves trying to pop the other person's balloon. By the end of the night, all these balloons were dead.

And for the first time, I was carting Ali's drunk ass home! The tables have turned! Sucka.

Sorry, I didn't dodgeball or inform people of the party, my phone is still dead! Headed to Sprint now to make them replace it!

Today is this guy's birthday. After all of our years of friendship, he actually forgot to put my email on the birthday invite list leading to this funny gmail chat exchange. Men will say anything to get out of the doghouse.

me: wheres the party
12:03 PM Ali: what party? I'm going home and having cake.
me: didn't you say we were doing drinks tonite
Ali: after a few drinks at slainte.
12:04 PM me: were you ever going to send out that email?
Ali: you didn;t get the email?
me: no
Ali: i sent one out...allthough I forgot a lot of people.
me: I didn't
Ali: really?
me: including me
no
when did you send it?
Ali: Monday afternoon
12:05 PM me: no it's not here
in my inbox
Ali: oh, damn. I'm sorry.
tyhis is what happens when you have to work and write a long email list at the same time.
12:06 PM me: I think it's freudian
but whatever
Ali: yeah. sure.
by the way,we saw your older, taller sister in W'burg...
12:07 PM also, if it's any consolation, i'm wearing your favorite outfit.
me: yeah my email's not on there
asshole
Ali: it was an accident.
but you know that.
12:08 PM me: no, Ali, no I don't
Ali: you really think i wouldn't want you there? stop it.
12:09 PM me: I can take a hint ali
you like Nina, Chris, and Kristy Buzuvis more than me
Ali: jeez, are they all on?
come on.
12:11 PM do you want me to say you're my favorite girl and you're the only one?
me: yes
Ali: that's wjy you're not on the list...you're in my heart. i don't need to email you.
12:12 PM there's the freudian slip...
me: Ali it's not your birthday unless I harrass you
12:13 PM Ali: of course. it's an essential part of our long-running no-sex romance.

I don't drunk text or drunk dial.

Saturday night, around 4am after I got home, I thought I had sent this really important email. I remember writing it. So important, that I have been completely ill over it for the past 3 days. It turns out, I came to my senses and never sent the email. I have searched my inbox, sent mail, and trash, it's not there. It wasn't anything bad, just interesting.

I suggest, ladies, if you plan on sending stupid emails to boys, (or emails to stupid boys) wait 24 (or 72) hours and you may thank yourself. Let them come to you. And if they don't there's always some new down the line.

I was so positive I had sent this email, wow. I don't know if I should resend it or drop it, it's been three days.

Do I send it and face the "tribunal"?

The nor'easter stole my cell phone service and I have 10 calls to return- why is this making me so sad!

Thank god for Battlestar Galactica. Almost done with the 1st Season and moving on to the 2nd.

This movie is beautifully done, but I am getting a hangover just watching it. It's F-ed up. Last night, when I first started watching it, I couldn't help thinking I am glad I missed the whole early 20's drug thing. We didn't do drugs at my school save for the gonja (sp?) and binge drinking. Well, at least, not that I knew of. We didn't have any rich frat boy friends.

My mother just called me to let me know she filed my 2004 tax return, due to a fire, the information had been lost for a good year and a half. She finally found it and sent it in.

Now for the depressing part- in 2004, I made 28,000 before taxes and paid 7800 in rent. I remember 2004 as one of the most depressing years of my life, I was broke all the time. I worked for one person who made 2.75 times more and another that made 7.5 times than me. I had a kick ass job, at the time, being a lowly peon seemed awesome. Plus most of my expenses were covered by my somewhat more profitable bosses.

People send me job postings all the time and I almost never apply for them. I have been out of college for 4 years now and can safely say I am past the point where I should have to work for less than 40k a year- which is why the nonprofit industry sucks sometimes. The cost of living here really astounds me sometimes which is why I always think of moving to a cheaper destination.

It's definitely true what people say, once you get past your early 20's, life gets a lot easier. I turn 27 in 3 weeks and I am actually really happy to move into my late 20's, I feel ten times better than I ever did at 24, 25, and 26. That whole "trying to find myself" business was such a bitch.

Going into your late 20s you realize that your days of marathon drinking are over. I actually detest day time drinking, being buzzed at 3pm when the sun is shining and the birds are chirping sucks. I love being sober to savor these moments with a big infusion of caffeine. It’s mostly the reason why I have never been a big brunch person. Champagne makes me feel like shit and it dulls the beauty of a nice weekend, but sometimes I am willing to indulge.

This weekend was a huge weekend, going into it I kind of knew what I was getting myself into but today I am exhausted and feeling off from socializing for the past 72 hours. Regardless, it was a great weekend.

Friday night was this guy’s going away party, it turned into more of a blogger reunion but we had a ridiculously fun night at the Delancy. Saturday involved an all day bar crawl through Brooklyn and Manhattan with a group of people I didn’t know. Honestly, I was kind of under the impression that it would be a good way to make new friends and possibly meet boys, but alas it was mostly women. It was a lot of fun and a great way to spend a beautiful day.

By the time I reached the “Safety First” party on 10 pm Saturday night, I was tapped out. I hung out on the couch with my crew for most of the night with infusions of coca cola as bar hopping during the day is exhausting. The theme of the party involved party fouls from previous parties with signs all over the apartment such as “No Bathroom Hookups”, “Limit Bathroom Naps to 30 mins”, and “No vomiting in the hot tub”. Unfortunately for me, the “No Bathroom Hookups” referred to me- I seem to have a habit of bringing boyfriends to their apt and then having “changing sessions” after the hot tub. Whatever, it’s actually not as shady as it sounds, I was dating the person. It was extremely entertaining, because almost everyone knew the sign referred to me and random people kept trying to jump in line with me for the bathroom as a joke.

The best part of the night was while we were in the hot tub, this mini orgy broke out, there were 3 couples making out with each other. It was kind of weird and awkward. On the other side of the hot tub was me, Joe, and Ali. We kind of looked at the orgy, looked at each other, and Ali broke the ice, “So how about those Mets this year?”

After getting home at 4am Sunday morning, I had enough time for an 8 hour nap before hitting up an all day brunch at friends’ apt. It was a great way to spend time during this crappy northeasterner. We ate bagels, drank mimosas (or they drank mimosas), and watched Battlestar Galactica and The Sopranos.

It wasn’t a wild and crazy weekend, just kind of chill, and I got to hang out with my friends. I wish every weekend could be like this one.

After watching 7 hours of it yesterday, I am fucking hooked.

The show is brilliant, it's as Marc says a show about moral and ethical dilemnas and decisions made between the lesser of two evils.

Do you destroy the civilian ship with 1300 hundred possibly innocent people or do you let them come to you with the possibility that they could destroy the collective 50,000 humans left?

So I am at the part in season one where starbuck ejects out of her viper and is falling on to some planet- I need to see the next episode!

Yesterday someone asked me which guy I thought was hot, honestly I think the women are hotter. I can not stop looking at the blond cylon- she's beautiful.