A New York Nuisance

In addition to my proclivity for excessive alcohol consumption and bad decision making, I've also come to realize that I have a natural tendency for attracting the attention of some serious fucking weirdos. Perhaps I should make stop making eye contact, smile less often, or simply adopt the same leave-me-the-fuck-alone attitude that seems to be inherently New York, but that's just not me. Fortunately, this means I have stories to share.*

*Some details have been omitted for public consumption.*

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1) The Aussie Anomaly: If you've ever been on spring break, you'll agree that this is not the week you should attempt to meet the man of your dreams or forge lasting relationships. At best you've acquired a few facebook friends who you'll never speak to again and ultimately end up de-friending when you realize that it's ridiculous to have 432 friends. Apparently the Australian man I met in Cancun did not get this memo. After approximately an hour of conversing, (in which time I managed to consume 4 tequila sunrises and 2 shots of Patron) my new Aussie friend suggested we take a walk on the beach. While I'm expecting some shorefront making out, the Aus has a different plan. From what I recall, the conversation involved me moving to Australia to meet his family, get married, and mother 3 of his children. I respond by suggesting we go to the wet T-shirt contest at Senor Frog's.

If that doesn't scream motherhood, I don't know what does. **************************************************************************************
2) Philly's Folly: I met this character from Philadelphia through a friend's boyfriend. As a result of my glass-half-full perspective and some pretty thick beer goggles I seemed to think that he was cute and funny. He was also really into me (which should have been my first clue that he had some issues.) We exchanged numbers and spent the next few weeks e-mailing/texting before I agreed to an actual date. To his credit, he came all the way to Manhattan just to take me out to dinner. He had researched Italian restaurants and had worn a purple shirt (remembering both my favorite food and my favorite color.) What happened next was not pretty... for the sake of brevity, I'll describe the highlights of the evening:

- We rendezvous in Penn Station: he is not as cute as I recall and is sweating profusely.

- We arrive at the restaurant: I immediately down two glasses of wine as his nose starts bleeding. (His explanation was nerves, but in retrospect I realize that he probably had a coke problem.)

- We walk to a bar for post-dinner cocktails: The conversation is not going well, my solution is to get pants-shitting drunk. (In case it's not obvious, this plan will completely backfire.)

- He goes to the bathroom: I begin drunk texting my best friend to say, "I'm having a horrible time but at least I got a free dinner."

- I go to the bathroom: Leave my phone on the bar, not expecting the guy to check my sent messages... He will wait until later to reveal this.

- We go meet up with some of his friends in Hoboken: At this point, I am not only starting to hate this guy, but I hate Jersey... I insist that we get Bud Light 40's for the PATH.

- I'm not feeling well: I try to keep it together for as long as I can, but eventually give up and start to not so quietly hurl in his friends bathroom. I emerge with glassy eyes, and ask him if it's okay if we call it a night.

- He agrees to walk me to the train: He asks me if I had a nice time, I politely lie and say "yes, thank you." (Fortunately the puking deterred him from leaning in for a good night kiss) Just as the train doors were closing he angrily yells out "Hey! At least you got a free dinner!!"

The food wasn't even that good.
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3) The Jersey Shore Jerk: I should have known simply from his geography that this kid was going to be a complete tool, but rather than react like the jaded bitch that I can be, I decided I was going to give him a chance. After meeting at a bar in Red Bank, we exchange numbers and part ways. Not 15 minutes later I get a text message saying "You are the coolest girl I've ever met." A bit much, but who doesn't love a little ego boost. He calls two days later to say that he'll be in the city and he'd love to take me out to lunch*

*Lunch dates are absolutely ideal for feeling out a new person. They're non-committal, non-romantic, and can always be cut short if there's an "emergency at the office."

I could never have predicted that this guy would have brought a gift. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for presents, but it was neither my birthday, nor Christmas, nor any other holiday that could possibly warrant gift-giving, especially not on a first date. I unwrapped the cell phone case and couldn't say a word.

That's not even the worst of it... In the gift bag was a folded piece of paper.... containing his RESUME. Did he think I was interviewing him for a job?? I was completely speechless, which was fine because motor mouth was in the process of explaining the many reasons I would be lucky to date him. It had something to do with his parents wealth and his successful career. He failed to mention his debilitating arrogance and social ineptitude.

I pretend as though I received a phone call, mumbled something about a library emergency, and took off down the block leaving the cell phone case, the resume, and the weirdo in my wake.
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Commuter Creepers - I hate riding the bus. I've had two miserable experiences on the N22 express bus that takes me from my parents house to Jamaica, Queens. In fact, it makes me reconsider ever going to my parents house.

4) First there was the bus driver. When I was living at home, I saw him every day at 7:25 AM. I smiled and said good morning, because well, he seemed like the kind of guy that would appreciate that, and I'm hoping that if he feels appreciated he'll be less inclined to lose his mind and crash the bus. I incorrectly assumed my friendliness was harmless, and learned otherwise when two weeks later, I was handed an envelope as I boarded: "To the Girl on My Bus."
Fuck, that's me.

In 2nd grade chicken scratch handwriting the letter reads: "My name is Rich. You have a pretty smile. I almost quit my job until you started riding my bus. My fiance broke up with me because of my drug addiction. I want to take you out. Please let me know if you have a boyfriend. My phone number is XXX-XXX-XXXX."

I find a new route to work.
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5) Then there was the middle-aged maniac. This man could not have been more clueless if he tried. He was well over 40 and balding. I'm fairly certain I'm wearing my do-not-disturb face while I pretend to be both listening to my iPod and intently reading. Apparently my brief glance in his direction when he sat next to me gave him the green light. He unoriginally began the conversation with "what are you reading?" Disinterested, I show him the cover of Sex, Drugs & Cocoa Puffs and flip back to the page I was on. Sensing that I'm a no-nonsense kind of chick, he cuts right to the chase.

Maniac: Let me take you out to dinner.
Me: No thank you, I have a boyfriend. (Blatant lie)
Maniac: I bet I'm better than him- I own a house and 4 vintage cars.
Me: Well, he owns two houses and 6 cars. (Even bigger lie but it's sorta fun to pretend that I not only have a boyfriend, but that he's loaded)
Maniac: Well why don't I give you my number anyway so that when things fall apart with him you can take me up on my offer. (He begins furiously scribbling ALL his contact information, complete with a pager number and two different e-mail addresses.)

I am forced to move my seat because this man is relentless. I actually choose to wedge myself between an overweight woman and someone with very questionable hygiene. I will never take this bus again.
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These characters are a few of the many reasons New Yorkers are naturally jaded and judicious about engaging in conversation with complete strangers.

Just another day at the office....

...with Batman??

If I Were a Boy

Every so often I imagine how much easier life would be if I were a dude. (I most often have these thoughts when I'm suffering from excruciating menstrual cramps or imagining the agony of childbirth.) To that end, I thought it'd be blog worthy to enlist the help of my friends and compile a list of the many, many reasons we wish we had been born with a different set of genes.

Disclaimer: Men will not enjoy anything about this rant.

The ability to pee standing up: Road trips can be an absolute nightmare. Try to find a semi-clean bathroom with toilet paper at a rest stop on 95 South and you'll be shit out of luck (pun intended.) And quite honestly, I'd rather risk permanent kidney damage than lock myself in a port-0-potty. (Especially at Preakness' running of the urinals.)

Double-fucking-Standards: Entire sociology texts have been dedicated to this subject so I'll just summarize: He's a stud, I'm a slut. That sounds fair, doesn't it?

Dating (or more accurately the lack thereof): Most women see dating as " a pre-arranged meeting with the possibility for love," whereas guys are thinking, "Gee, I hope I don't have to break the bank to get laid tonight." Well, this lose-lose situation is why I'm not alone in still waiting for my Lloyd Dobler.*

*I may or may not have just recently watched Say Anything...twice.

Not to mention the complete opposite perspectives men and women have on relationships and being the extra wheel.

Wardrobe woes:
- Bras are hands-down the most uncomfortable thing in the world. (Second only to tits themselves.)

- Men will never have to sit in a meeting and wonder the entire time if a button came undone exposing their cleavage.

- Men will never have straps or underwires actually leave marks or rashes on their skin.

- Men will never have to worry about spending hundreds of dollars at Victoria's Secret (because annual sale or not, that place is absurdly overpriced.)

- Choosing an outfit for a night out can be more stressful for us than Obama trying to solve this whole recession pickle. (I'm only being half sarcastic). If chicks wear the wrong shoes (wedges instead of heels, sneakers instead of flops) their entire outfit is ruined...and they're attracting the attention of every judgmental bitch in the city, who are not so subtly thinking "she wore THAT?! HERE!?"

- The possibility of multiple venues for the evening is enough to induce an anxiety attack. There is no realistic way to convert a BBQ outfit to a club outfit unless you're too drunk to actually care what anyone thinks. Meanwhile, a guy simply has to fumble through their closet for their cleanest dirty shirt and their best smelling jeans.

A list of things that need no elaboration:

the make-up application process

hairstyles gone bad

control top pantyhose

thongs

UTI's

tampons

corporate glass ceilings

sexual harassment

pregnancy/childbirth

bloating

high heels

shaving/waxing/threading

All that said, the absolute worst thing about being a woman...

is having to deal with men.

Thanks, Captain Obvious

In case it wasn't staggeringly evident from the excessive honking and speed-limit ignoring cars that fill the streets of Manhattan, a new study reveals that NY drivers are the angriest and most aggressive in the country.


Really? Was an entire study necessary to come to that conclusion? Are people getting paid to figure this shit out, 'cause my sister could really use a job.

Last week, Metro conducted a similarly obvious study suggesting that Twitter is almost completely useless! I hope you're all sitting down for these shocking developments, because there's more.

In an absurd exclusive interview, Kirstie Alley (former Jenny Craig spokesperson) explains to People Magazine "How She Got Fat." *Spoiler alert: it involves butter, sugar, and complete lethargy. (I'm sure it didn't help that she converted her home gym into a home theater.)


And thanks to a few Belgian researchers, I've just learned that pretty women are distracting to men!


As a research librarian, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that I'm just as qualified to be conducting studies and revealing my findings to the world. Stay tuned for the following...

- Researchers find "being a college student is more fun than having a full-time job."

- Recent study confirms, "drunk women are easier to sleep with than their sober counterparts."

- New survey suggests "men enjoy watching sports and receiving blow jobs."

Completely unrelated to stating the obvious (but equally as ridiculous),

this gem was sent to me this morning by a fellow LIer. The next Civil War?

Analyze This

About 6 months ago, I made the financial decision to sign up for a Discover Card. My thinking was simple, if I'm going to irresponsibly piss away my money anyway, why not get rewarded with some cashback? This rationale has not worked in my favor thus far. Do you know how much 1% really is?? Well Discover does, because it's essentially nothing. Recognizing this, they have another incentive for you to earn 5% cashback in specific categories throughout the year.

The March/April category was Home Improvement:
First of all, I don't own a home. I live in a 2 room studio apartment with one room serving as a kitchen/living room/dining room/home office (and when I say home office, I mean my laptop on my kitchen table). Anyway, certain aspects are still in need of improvement (specifically, the towel rack that broke during a rather rowdy Blackout Sunday last summer) so Discover Card in hand, I head out to Home Depot.

At the risk of sounding like a I don't appreciate the feminist movement, I think it's fair to say that as a female I have no business being in or around this store without my boyfriend or my father. Even the parking lot is intimidating with its pick-up trucks and bearded-beer-bellied men. Lowe's, I can handle, but Home Depot with their seemingly endless oversized aisles of 2 by 4's and sheetrock, not so much. I venture down what I deem a promising aisle, but quickly realize that I'm going to need some assistance. I asked for help from one of the miserable minimum wage employees who processed my request slower than my first computer dialed the Internet. Apparently "towel rack" loosely translated to "curtain rod" and there I stood in the wrong aisle... again. 30 minutes later, I found what I was looking for and I sprinted to the exit.

The excursion to Home Depot was immediately followed by a trip to Bed Bath & Beyond - which is one of the 5 stores I should not be allowed to shop at without supervision. My self-control plummets and I fall victim to every impulse purchase known to man. On this particular day (with the Discover Card mentality that I'd actually be earning money for every dollar I spent) I decided I was going to redecorate my entire bathroom and bedroom. After three hours of color coordinating I was finally ready to leave with my new shower curtain, liner, hooks, towels, bath mat, bedspread, quilt, sheet set, & extra pillow cases, in tow.

Two weeks later, Discover sends me an e-mail alert, "Your Statement is Ready"... Awesome! I'm pretty pumped to see how much money I've racked up with all my home improvement purchases. The result was more disappointing than the collapse of the 2007 Mets.

My cashback total was $12. My minimum payment was $15. Math is not one of my strengths, but I did not like the way this added up. Damn you Discover.

I've since come to learn that pathetic cashback bonus isn't even the most depressing feature of this credit card. What's worse, is their new "Spend Analyzer," which takes the liberty of creating colorful little pie charts out of your spending habits. I don't know about you but I am not usually a fan of having my flaws brought to my attention, and that's just what this "analyzer" does. My pie chart for May & June had me reconsidering my life choices (and probably has you wondering if I'm tipping the scale at 200+ pounds):

Food & Beverage

Needless to say, that's the first and last time I will be using the spend analyzer feature.

Let the reckless spending continue...

M is for Monkey

For most of my professional life, I've had a horrible fear of making important phone calls. I wrote out scripts, rehearsed them, and hesitated dialing the last digit of the phone number until I was confident that I was ready to talk to another human being. The main reason for my irrational fear is the fact that my brain completely shuts down when I'm nervous. On one such occasion, I was asked to phonetically spell someones e-mail address.

It did not go well.

Simply, it began with M... as in... Monkey... and ended in uproarious laughter. (Apparently a normal person would have said M as in Mary.) Needless to say, when I got off the phone I promptly googled "phonetic alphabet" and taped the chart next to my computer.

In the spirit of inefficiently using company time on Fridays, the video below is like an AFV for jungle animals. It's narrated in French, but all you really need to know is that the fruit they are snacking on is the equivalent of several jack and cokes.

Cocktails & Co-Workers

The modern day workforce is unlike any in history. Today's corporate world sees four generations collaborating (or colliding as it may be.) In this environment, the opportunity will inevitably present itself for one to mingle with said diverse co-workers in a social setting - very likely over cocktails. Disaster ensues? Not if you keep reading...


If you're like me, you're low man on the totem pole and probably one of the youngest in your office. You get made fun of for your random references to Saved by the Bell, the fact that you graduated from high school after the millennium, and that you don't know anything about MASH. (Obviously the TV show, not the ridiculous game girls used to play in the schoolyard to determine who they were destined to marry and where they would live - Mansion?Apartment? Shack? House?) Worry not, you can still hang with the big boys in style.






1) Before the outing: find out where you'll be going and check out the place on line. If it's somewhere off your normal route, take note of the closest subways and map your way home in case you ignore all my advice and get completely hammered at dinner. Also, take a look at the menu. Have an idea of some of the appetizers/entrees that appeal to you so you can offer an intelligent suggestion on what to order.

2) Follow the leader: If a senior VP asks for a gin and tonic, it's not out of the question for you to order the same. What IS out of the question is for you to blurt out your standard "2 bud lights and a shot of tequila" like you would at an open bar at McFadden's.* Play it safe and order a glass of wine or a simple mixed drink. (If you're at a Mexican restaurant, opt for sangria over a margarita. I cannot stress strongly enough what a terrible idea tequila is... with or without co-workers).


*As an aside, if you happen to be a Buffalo Bills fan, or simply appreciate a solid SundayFunday, get to McFadden's during football season - $20 unlimited beer and all you can eat wings will have you singing for every Bills' touchdown, even if you're a Jets fan.

3) Trading war stories: I don't care if a 45 year old man with 3 children just admitted that he rips a bong every night before he goes to bed. Now is NOT the time to one-up him with tales of your recreational use of cocaine or anything you did on spring break. Keep in mind that what they did in the 70's happened in the distant past, whereas the horrible decisions you made in Vegas probably happened a year ago. Tell humorous but appropriate stories. If you don't have any, lie.


3) Pace yourself. Seriously. Treat this evening like a marathon not a sprint. It's O.K. to not order a fresh beverage every time the waiter comes around. This is not the last time you'll be asked. Again, follow the lead of a higher-up (unless he/she happens to be a degenerate alcoholic who polishes off 4 Jack on the rocks before the apps arrive - if that's the case, choose a different role model for the night.)



4) Stay Focused on the table: Keep your phone/blackberry in your purse or pocket. Don't check it every 5 minutes. It's incredibly rude and you're not that important (again, this is not exclusive to time with co-workers.)



5) Boss Bashing: While speaking ill of your douchenozzle boss is bound to happen at some point, please don't be the one to initiate. Participate in the conversation, but don't go overboard. "Ya, he drives me nuts when he breathes down my neck" is fine to say... whereas, "He's a completely incompetent jerkoff and should get hit by a bus," might be crossing the line.



6) Exit gracefully: If you've made it through dinner and paying the check without suggesting body shots, describing your last sexual encounter in vivid detail, and puking on yourself or anyone around you...put on your coat and run like hell.

Beginning of the End for Melville

Bye Bye Dewey

Damn the Man

Let me explain it to you.

Mitchell's the man.

I'm the idiot.

You're the screw-up.

And we're all losers.

Welcome to music town.

Yea well, today's one of those days that I'd much rather be a loser at MusicTown than be chained to my hyper-organized desk (especially if it's Rex Manning day*)

*If you haven't seen Empire Records, you're lame. Not only does the movie rock, but one listen to Gina singing Sugar High will make you want to quit your job and sing on a rooftop.

Unfortunately, if you're actually employed in this craptastic economy, no matter how much you hate your job, quitting is not an option. (Especially if you've got rent to pay and an alcohol consumption habit that claims half your annual salary). If you're in the same boat as me, you're probably trying to do everything you can to actually keep said horrible job. SomeeCards said it best:

Since I can only spend so much of my day facebook stalking, sporcling, gchatting, and checking the balance of my ever dwindling checking account, I was fortunate enough to come across this article from WikiHow-

Looking Busy at Work without Really Working.

Give it a read and good luck avoiding the pink slip!

Under My Umbrella-Ella-Ella

So it's raining in the city, and that can only mean one thing... NYers claim temporary insanity for their complete inability to function during inclement weather. In addition to train delays and cabbies who forget how to drive, the majority of the population is incapable of correctly using an umbrella. The following umbrella etiquette guidelines should go without saying, but apparently in NYC they need to be said:


First and foremost, determing IF it is necessary to use an umbrella is key. Check the forecast before you leave the house. I prefer AccuWeather over TheWeatherChannel because of their hourly forecast.

If there is a slight drizzle, mist, or just one big dark cloud in the sky, keep the umbrella at home. If cars aren't using their windshield wipers, you shouldn't be using an umbrella. (Especially true if you're bald.)

1) You are a person, not a hot dog cart. As such, your umbrella need not have a 6 foot diameter.

2) When walking under scaffolding, it is polite to close your umbrella and hold at your side. It is impolite and obnoxious to hold it open in front of you like a weapon.


3) Using an umbrella does not preclude you from watching where you're going.

4) Umbrellas do not fit through revolving doors.

5) Every NYer should own a $5 umbrella purchased from a street vendor. They are horrible quality and won't last more than 2 storms, but are perfect for bringing to bars because you won't care when you inevitably leave it behind.

Other simple rules for rain gear...

Puddle jumpers totally kick ass.

Ponchos do not.

Promiscuity Curbed

In a city as populous as New York, one might assume that it's easy enough to avoid an awkward run-in with a former bed buddy. Let me take this opportunity to tell you, that is simply not true.

In fact, it is more likely that the exact opposite will occur. Someone who you've never seen before in your daily routine will suddenly be in line at your deli, renting a movie at your blockbuster (does anyone even go to blockbuster anymore?) or washing their clothes at the same laundromat as you.

To minimize the chance that you'll fall victim to one of these encounters, here's a short, fairly obvious, list of people you should really think twice (or three times) before sleeping with:

Co-Workers: The equation is simple. Potentially jeopardizing your career + becoming the office whore X awkwardness 5 days a week = very bad decision*

*If you deem it completely necessary to date a co-worker it should be someone with a definitive expiration date (summer associate or temp), below you in the office food chain, preferably in a different department, and NOT married.

Personal trainers (or anyone else at the gym for that matter): I think it's safe to assume that we've already got enough reasons to avoid a work-out (lazy, busy, sick, etc.) Having had relations with your spin instructor should not be one of them.*

*If this is an impulse you simply can't control, make sure you're a member of the NYSC and have the option of going to one of their other 30+ locations in Manhattan.

Neighbors: By neighbors, I do not mean people in your neighborhood (that would just be silly). I'm talking about the people who live in your building. I can guarantee that if you sleep with someone in your building, an uncomfortable elevator run-in is inevitable and may make you contemplate an alternate route into and out of your apartment (taking the stairs? fire escape? learning to fly?)

That said, if you need to learn from your own mistakes, at least be prepared with a few staple items to survive an ONS. (A pair of old navy flip flops, breath mints/gum, and this miracle compact are clutch.)

"Hope it's Chocolate for Me"

In case you were trying to figure out a ridiculous reason to celebrate on this dreary Friday, here it is: Thanks to the friendly staff at Dunkin Donuts, I was enlightened to learn that today is

National Doughnut Day.

While I've enjoyed my fair share of doughnuts, I think that if you're really looking to honor a baked good, it should be a cupcake. There's something nostalgic about a good cupcake that conjures images of birthday parties in elementary school. (Until recently when it became a controversial treat). As an adult, I've maintained (even increased) my appreciation for a perfectly frosted cupcake. With the overwhelming number of bakeries in the city, I took it upon myself to give you the top three places to get cupcakes. Satisfaction guaranteed:

Sugar Sweet Sunshine - an excellent place to grab a chocolate chip cheesecake cupcake to hold you over while you wait for your table for brunch at Essex.

Buttercup Bake Shop - all I'm gonna say is, it's a good thing they close early 'cause I'd have a difficult time deciding between a cupcake and a slice of pizza after happy hour on 2nd ave.

Crumbs Bake Shop - try the Artie Lange/Baba Booey 6 pack. Not only delicious but supports a good cause. Proceeds are donated to the St. Jude's Children's Research Hospital.

Hope it's chocolate for me.

A Trifecta of Taste

New Yorkers are notable for their on-the-go eating habits that lead to off-the-charts obesity. While it's hard (impossible with a hangover) to pass up a greasy bacon, egg & cheese from your favorite deli on the way to work, the outcome is less than desirable. I've found that if I keep a few staple items in my desk drawer and muster all the self-control I have to sprint past Brooklyn Bagels, I can avoid gaining weight as bikini season fast approaches.

*This chick doesn't eat horrible breakfasts... neither should we*

In addition to the boxes of Kashi Heart to Heart Oatmeal and Honey Nut Cheerios, (a valiant attempt at lowering my absurdly high cholesterol) my absolute favorite mid-morning snack is the perfect combination of sweet, salty, and satisfying - a trifecta of taste, if you will...

Unsalted Roasted Almonds - undoubtedly one of the healthiest foods you can snack on. As an avid Self Magazine reader, there is at least one article in each issue touting the benefits of almonds. Simply, they are loaded with healthy fat, fiber, and complex carbs, not to mention vitamins and minerals. They're a little pricey at $7.99/lb but worth every penny.

Ocean Spray Craisins - delicious, chewy, and fat free. Unfortunately, because they're a little high in sugar, you can't approach the bag like a tub of popcorn at the movies. Dole out an actual serving size* (1/3 a cup). If that doesn't work for you, grab the 100 calorie packs.

Dark Chocolate - "Dark chocolate contains antioxidants that protect the body from free radicals." I'm still not sure what free radicals are, but I've used the antioxidant argument to justify my consumption of red wine, so I think it applies here too. Plus, if it's that time of the month, there is absolutely no substitute for a good piece of chocolate. I recommend the Belgian Dark Chocolate from Trader Joes. They're 1.75 ounces each (half the size of a regular candy bar) and you can get a 3-pack for $1.59.

For a laugh, check out Brian Regan's hilarious perspective on foods and labels.

Keepin' it Classy on Casual Fridays

There's nothing better in the corporate world than summer Fridays. Not only do office hours usually end early, but the dress code is often changed from business to casual. If you haven't seen The Office: Casual Friday episode, get to hulu, STAT. In the meantime, here are a few quick pointers for women on how to avoid being scolded by HR on dress down days.


1. Sun dresses* can be completely appropriate. They are also perfect in their ability to be converted to cute happy hour attire if imbibing after work is on the agenda (which I highly recommend). The most important thing to consider when wearing a sundress to work is the sleeve length. If your dress is anything other than a tee (ie- halter, tube, spaghetti straps, etc.) a cardigan is mandatory. Feel free to bare all at the bar, but not at your desk.


*For very cute, reasonably priced sundresses, check out NY & Company. Bonus: Their sizes run big, so someone who's normally a 6 can rock a 4 (or even a 2 on good days).



2. If you're allowed to wear jeans, it should go without saying that holes, rips, and cut-offs are NOT okay. Also inappropriate are too-tight low-rise jeans*

*This rule is not exclusive to the workplace. Muffin-tops are always prohibited.

3. Footwear: I don't care if you've just spent $45 on a pedicure from Bliss, no one in the office wants to see your feet. In the same regard, no one wants to hear you from down the hall, so save the flops for the beach. Strappy sandals can also lean towards the inappropriate side. You're safest bet is to wear ballet flats, a simple pump, or clean sneakers.

4. You look like a douche when you keep your sunglasses on your head. Just saying.



Don't be the chick who puts the 'ass' in classy on casual Fridays.

Office gossip never dies.

NY&Co, $39.95

The Bridge & Tunnel Debate

I'm going to kick off this blog with a friendly neighborhood debate. I was having a conversation this past weekend with a former resident of Hoboken, NJ who attempted to explain why living there is superior to dwelling in Astoria, Queens. With the exception of one or two accurate arguments, overall this is not true. Here's why...

*Disclaimer: I cannot pretend that this will be an impartial discussion as I have resided in places east of Manhattan my entire life (with the exception of college) and am vehemently opposed to most things Jersey.

1. MTA vs. PATH
As much bitching as I do about the downfalls of the MTA it is undoubtedly the lesser of two evils in a head to head battle with the PATH train that services New Jersey. If you are a Manhattan-bound Astorian, you have considerably more options for your journey.

In addition to the flexibility, I've never waited for more than 15 minutes for a train in Queens. Conversely, I've grumbled on the platform of a PATH train for more than a half hour almost every time I made the trek to and from Hoboken. (This wait may have been slightly more tolerable had I not been doing the walk-of-shame after a weekend of back-to-back day drinking). That said, Astoria still wins the morning commute.

2. The 59th Street Bridge

Astoria also emerges victorious in the late night commute.

Imagine this: It's 4am at Libation. The peep-toe pumps that were once incredibly sexy have transformed themselves into an unbearable form of torture. The smokey eyes that were previously seductive, are now, not so much. It's at this point (if you're not hand-in-hand with the stud who wants to take you back to his Murray Hill apartment) you must plan your graceful escape. The most dignified thing to do is hail a cab, remove your heels, and inform the driver of your destination with minimal slurring. If you're headed to Hoboken, good luck getting home for less than $35 and a disgruntled reaction from the cabbie. 59th Street Bridge to Astoria=$15-$18, with tip.

3. Nightlife

This category was somewhat of a push. While Astoria boasts the last beer garden in New York City and Cavo, there aren't many other reasons to make the trip to Queens (with the exception of visiting me, of course). On the other hand, Hoboken's list of frequented bars is quite a bit longer. And although it doesn't happen often, I have seen the reverse commute from Manhattan to Hoboken done on a Saturday night. Here, I'd be inclined to argue that quality trumps quantity, but I'll give this one to the west.

4. Real Estate

While we're on the topic of redeeming qualities for Hoboken, you definitely get more bang for your buck there. While rent prices are fairly comparable ($2500 for a three bedroom) the size of your room will be considerably larger in Jersey, and you'll likely have access to one or all of the following: balcony/rooftop/backyard/laundry.

5.Dining out

The diversity in Queens lends itself to some of the finest international cuisine anywhere. The Colombian restaurants are owned by actual Colombians. The Greek Taverns are staffed by, you guessed it, Greeks. Not only are these restaurants located within a 5 block radius of wherever you live, but they serve phenomenally authentic food at incredibly reasonable prices.

All that said, while neither neighborhood holds a candle to the Big Apple, they provide a cheaper alternative and a place for many twenty-somethings to call home.