WOWZERS!! Girl, you’re not alone if your boyfriend’s Rabbi hits on you! I need a shot of whiskey after reading this one. Poor Jennifer!

My ex-boyfriend is Jewish and I’m not, but although I’m not well-educated on Judaism, I’m very confident it’s not okay for any religious teacher to behave in this manner.  His family wasn’t too happy that I wasn’t Jewish, so after our relationship hit the two-year mark, they invited us to dinner the same night their Rabbi and his family was coming over. I didn’t know if it was because they were going to try and convince me to switch to Judaism because they thought we might get engaged? I had no idea they’re ulterior motive. I was nervous. Dinner went well, no one asked me religious questions, no pressuring, nothing at all. I really enjoyed myself and liked the Rabbi and his wife very much. Later we went into library to have an after-dinner drink (yes, these people were very wealthy with a huge house.) As we walked everyone out, the Rabbi walked beside me, his hand lightly on my back and asked me how I felt about marrying my boyfriend since we had different faiths? I told him I was opened to a inter-religious marriage or if we decided together, on our own terms, I would consider converting. He stopped, smiled and said “I thought so,” slid his hand down my back and PATTED MY BUTT then walked off!!! I was floored. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t no whether to laugh or vomit! I didn’t make a scene, just waited until I was in the car with my boyfriend and told him what his Rabbi did. His first reaction was “Really?!” then he got mad at me and accused me of making it up. He said the Rabbi was a very nice man, committed to his faith and would never do anything like that. That was the beginning of the end for us because I KNEW what I felt and that wasn’t a “nice” tap. I still can’t believe it.

I later ran into his brother’s wife and she told me that the Rabbi had done that to her twice. She said it’s just something he does to women, but is harmless and doesn’t mean anything by it. WHATEVER!

Jennifer – tell the happy little wifey that I call BULLSHIT on that one. A man puts his had on your tooshy – he means it!

I’ve put many things under my armpits… okay, that sounded really bad. What I meant was.. I have put many odor/perspiration fighting antidotes under my armpits when I was out of deodorant, but the following story is above and beyond the creativity I’ve used in these situations.  After I heard this, I had to give myself mouth to mouth. Don’t ask how I did it… I’m sure someone has it on video, but I laughed that hard.

I’ve been with the same company for seven years and over the years, made close friends with counter-parts in different cities. A friend and coworker, came to Chicago for work last week and stayed with me. Work/Slumber Party is much more fun than a boring hotel room.  Anyhow, the first morning she was here, I went to work super early and she came a little later. She carried-on her bags and didn’t bring any toiletries because of the terrorist-proof regulations at the airport.  She planned on using my toothpaste, deodorant, shampoo…etc.

Side Note: Seriously, terrorists have SO not caught on to the fact that they shouldn’t bring their powder weapons in a shampoo bottle or in form of baby formula. Go airports, go! Out-smart those terrorists! It completely makes sense to take away my $60, 5 oz. moisturizer because it could be saturated with bomb powder!!!  I’m bitter.

Continuing the story, when she got to the office, she yanked me to the side and asked me what she smelled like.  The scent was very fresh smelling… very familiar. I couldn’t put my finger on it. I asked her why – maybe it’s because she’s a smoker and didn’t want to smell like smoke.. I had no idea. Then she went on to tell me she couldn’t find my deodorant.  Hello, it’s in the medicine cabinet. “Where is that? I only saw two mirrors over your bathroom counter,” she asked. When I told her that the mirror on the left IS the medicine cabinet she just looked at me. “Are you kidding?!” I still didn’t understand why this was a big deal. I asked her if she found the deodorant. “No,” she said. Then I asked what she did in place of deodorant? “The only thing I could find was your Febreze Air Freshener so I tested it out and it wasn’t sticky so I thought, it’s good enough to fight bacteria and odors, so it’ll work on sweat.” YOU HAVE GOT TO BE SNORTING THAT AIR FRESHNER!!! YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT THE LAVENDAR FRESH SMELL IS MY LAVENDER FEBREZE WHICH HOUSES AT THE BACK OF MY TOILET TO DIFUSE THE SMELL OF ASS AND YOU USED IT AS DEODORANT???  Yes, that is exactly what she was saying.

She was wearing white and desperate.. so she took a chance with Febreze. After all, it does come in other forms like.. fabric spray and the kind you plug into a socket.. so why not use it to soak up pit-sweats?

Later that day, her armpits were itching because she broke out in a rash. PRICELESS!! Innovation gone wrong. I say “A” for creativity, though. I would’ve stuffed toilet paper in my purse and dabbed throughout the day.

Ladies, let’s talk about great ideas. Mary Kay had a great idea to sell a face cream that exploded into a whole cosmetics line and Fortune 500 company. Raquel Welch had a great idea when she uprooted her two kids with only $500 dollars to her name and fled to LA to become a huge star. Ruth Wakefield had a hell of an idea when she put chocolate chunks in cookie dough in 1930 which is now known as Chocolate Chip Cookies or Lauren’s Greatest Downfall. But, sometimes we ladies don’t have the greatest of ideas, they just feel so warm and fuzzy at the time that we go for it.

Speaking of fuzzy and not-so-great ideas, I recently had two of my girlfriends, Tricia and Sara, over for a laid-back dinner. We all agreed that we needed to be in bed early with a two-glass wine max. Done and done. WHATEVER!!! I would like to amend the phrase “two-glass” to “two-bottle” well, almost, not quite that much.

Anyhow, here we are wined-up and Tricia (who is a Bikram Yoga Godess and former gymnast) brings up the 80′s break-dancing move, The Worm, wondering if she could still do it. All of sudden, she’s on the ground throwing herself into perfect “worm” motion then coaxing us to do the same. First of all, I think I’ve attempted the worm once in college and I sucked then, but, now at 32, as I’ve matured, my worm must have, right? Are you freakin crunchy!!? It looked more like I was jump-humping the ground than doing the worm. I heard cracks and pops all over my body and I think I broke a rib.  I just laid on the ground for 5 minutes after doing it while Tricia did another one over me. Last, Sara decided to give it a shot. This girl snowboards, kiteboards, ironing boards, bread boards, whatever board is around – she’s going to rock it out and look hot doing it. Sara has never even attempted the worm so the picture below is as far as she got which is nowhere, but I say A for effort because she popped right up as I was still on the ground dialing an ambulance.

My point? It was a fun bonding moment for us and then I woke up in the morning and wanted to skinny-girl-slap Tricia for the idea! I didn’t call or email either of them asking if they were sore because if their answer would have been “no” (which I bet my fondue set that it would’ve been) then I’m pretty sure our friendships would’ve ended… out of jealousy.. on their parts….of course.

So ladies… if you haven’t done those splits in 10 years… don’t try them.. especially if you’re surrounded by girlfriends who are in much better shape than you!!

Trica owning The Worm

Me. It looks like my form is okay, but my legs flopped right after this was taken.

Like I said, it was Sara's first attempt. I don't feel sorry for her, though, she has 6-pack abs.

It’s very often that we run into a situation where we’re kicked in the ass instead of serviced as customers should be. For example, last week when I had revisions to my salad, the waitress sighed and acted completely put out. Oh, Daddy made you get a job because he realized you’ll probably live off him for the rest of your life? BOO MF’in HOO!! Buck-up, Blondie and get me a free brownie while you’re at it, BITCH! Or perhaps the woman at the dry cleaners who looked at my white blouse that I had dribbled (poured an entire glass of Pinot Noir while snort-laughing) on and said, “You shouldn’t wear white since you spill so much.” Listen woman, aren’t I the customer here? Don’t I pay you like $20 bucks to rub some bleach on a white shirt? I’m so sorry if you’re back there with a scrub board while I’m living life and indulging in mother nature’s fruits… in liquid form. Cry me a river and scrub my shirt, Bitch!! Chop, chop! And when you’re done with that, I have some WHITE pants that have grease stains on the knee from when I perched my burrito there.

Yes, we’ve all ran into bad service and wished we did something about it, instead, some of us (me) just sit there silently then blog about it. However, my girl, Lindsey, decided to speak up and put a whip on some deli-workers! Way to tame that horse, Lindsey!! Make them cut that meat… uhhh.. what? Nevermind, here’s her story…

On a random weekday, let’s say it was Tuesday at 11 am, the Wal-Mart deli was anything but busy. But, of course there was one woman waiting on everyone while two co-workers did everything possible to look busy at doing nothing (sound familiar to anyone?) After about 5 minutes of me awkwardly peeping around the counter and looking over the scales and trying to quietly give the workers “the look” while remaining, polite…something in me snapped. About this time, another customer walked up next to me, waited for about 30 seconds, and then asks me, “I guess those two are prepping for lunch or something while the other lady waits on everyone?” I don’t know what grabbed a hold of me, but I loudly say, “Or they are just f***ing avoiding eye contact because they are afraid they might have to do their f***ing jobs!” Silence fell over everyone, customers and workers, and everyone looked at me. The lady next to me smiled the greatest “I love that you just did that” smile I have ever seen.
I calmly asked for my pound of cracked pepper turkey breast, waited for it, said thank you, and left.
I felt like I had just won a gold medal. Or at least an honorable mention.

Okay – I couldn’t think of anything catchy or cute… that title is the best I could freakin’ do!! Cut me some Britney, okay? I’ve been enduring a tradeshow since Saturday that entailed nonstop personality, smiling and entertaining hence the absence of a new post since last week. Fake and Fun Barbie has been sucked out of me. No lie, I can’t even fake being fake right now. I’m exhausted… and rambling.

OKAY! To my story or actually, my neighbor’s story. I was walking down the hallway of my building and ran into my neighbor (when I say neighbor, I mean the girl I would collide with if we both stepped out of our doors at the same time.. our doors are about 25 inches apart and she’s one thin, old, wall away from me. I get worried that I disturb her during my Musical Marathons. My girlfriend and I tend to sing to the movies… and drink… and stay up doing both until 2am.)

Speaking of singing.. so I ran into her and she asked me if I heard the Asian Karaoke going on in the unit below her – we’re on the 3rd floor. I hadn’t nor did I expect a question of such since our building is filled with Chicago yups.  She proceeded to tell me about her five long nights going practically sleepless because the people below her would gather a group and belt out 80′s songs in an Asian language (it was muffled so she wasn’t for sure which language they were singing in) from a Karaoke machine from 2am until 7:30am -microphone and all. These people didn’t play – they took their karaoke super serious especially Doran Doran and David Bowie as my neighbor can attest that those were the artists of choice. At 5am on day 5, she lost it and screamed, “SHUT THE F*&% UP!!!”  Brief interruption; I remember this because my alarm was going off that morning and I heard her scream and thought that I slept through my alarm and it woke her up, raging in anger. All she heard was giggles so she threw a jacket atop her pj’s, marched down to the doorman and demanded something be done. She followed the doorman to the Apartment of Karaoke Magic to witness around 10 of them stuffed into a living room, surrounding a small TV with attached karaoke machine. All of them young and Asian. The lowdown was that our building has a contract with Motorola to house employees who are working in Chicago temporarily.

Thank goodness the doorman and my neighbor scared the love of song out from their little souls and they ceased.  I thought about borrowing her apartment for my next Musical Marathon to give them a touch of their own medicine, however, I’m afraid they’d knock on the door for a full performance.. I don’t have time to gather up appropriate costumes and back-up dancers, otherwise, it would be on.