AH-HA!

I may not be able to Facebook or Tweet at work but I can blog! This is good, considering I have been ignoring my blog for awhile now. I got a job and boy did I forget how exhausting it is to work a full 8 hour shift, without my many scrabble, FB, IM, news breaks. My coworkers are obsessed with country and seem excited to be introducing me to the "wonderful" world of country. They were in shock when they found out I liked hip hop. One of them said, as in rap, do ya sing? She's very nice and very southern, but not the kind that hate northerners, the kind you want to be your friend. Speaking of I have been here for 1 month and 11 days and I am still friendless but I am trying to be positive, I know it takes time. In the meantime I've decided to volunteer at the Nashville Chinese School and it's been, uh interesting. Last weekend I manned the "store," used loosely because it's really a table in the gym at the local middle school. I sold paper, caligraphy paint brushes and Mickey DVD's in Chinese. I actually think I did quite well. I made over $200!! So the principal likes me and said I can come back next week and help out in the classroom and be the photographer at their moon festival. Funny thing, while I was working the table some woman kept talking to me in Chinese, sure she probably thought I understood since I am volunteering at a Chinese school, BUT it turns out she thought I was Chinese. She came over later and apologized, even funnier thing, it's not the first time someone thought I was Asian, or maybe they thought my friend was White. Either way, bizarre. It can be added to the list; confused as Latina and now Asian.

I can't say I am getting used to Southern life but I am definitely entertained. Chik-Fil-A might be one of the best things to happen to the South. They need to be open on Sundays, this religious stuff is really getting in the way of me enjoying an amazing chicken sandwich with pickles when I need one the most!

Alright more stories later but I want to leave you with a teaser. We are on a burger hunt. A burger hunt so big and so delicious it is going to take over a month to complete. *Drum Roll*

We are searching for the best fastfood burger in Nashville! Pictures and updates to come later on.

Faygo what?

A couple of nights ago I was introduced to the wonderful world of Faygo. We went to a Chinese restaurant, well it was more take-out, Panda Express style. There were pictures of food, about 4 tables and real chinese people behind the counter. Which, actually, is going to put me on a short tangent. Last week we went to the San Antonio Taco Company, also known as SATCO and wow, it was interesting. I was confused by the reviews on yelp. San Antonio Tacos scream Tex Mex to me except someone raised in SoCal was claiming it was authentic Mexican. Tex Mex is not authentic Mexican! Ugh. Anyway, we show up and we are handed a sheet of paper outside, you mark off what you want sushi style. I scan the list and at the bottom are chicken wings. Chicken wings? Now I'm really confused. The did have carnitas but otherwise the menu was super basic. Queso, taco and enchilladas. I walk in and hand my order to the cashier. She didn't give me change for my $2.46 taco but whatever, I'll let her have it. So the first thing I notice is the music isn't the traditional tacqueria music. Then I see it. Not a single person in the kitchen or at the counter is Mexican. A Mexican place without Mexicans?? I'm not saying Italians need to cook Italian, Greek cook gyros, etc but after coming from California with Mexican a plenty, I was in shock. The whole kitchen was black, which explains the chicken wings on the menu. Not something you see everyday. The food wasn't bad, the carnitas were a bit more pulled porkish but I liked it. A crew of about 30 frat boys entered the restaurant in suit jackets and shorts. We could just imagine what the drunk crowd was like, I'll have everything and mark off the whole sheet. Which by the way, was also weird. The put taco and enchillada 3 times on the menu. Not a different type of enchillada but three of the same. Anyway, it was an interesting introduction to Nashville. I did find the little Mexico. It's out by Home Depot. Zac's barber had moved here from NoCal and he said when he got here he really missed good Mexican food. He wants a kitchen full of Mexicans that don't speak English and he found it.

Ok back to the Chinese take-out. While we are waiting for our food he spots it. Cans of Faygo in the cooler. Faygo you ask? It's a small independent soda out of the Detroit made famous by the Insane Clown Posse. Violent J threw an open bottle into the crowd and has hoped the company would do a limited edition soda for all the Juggalos but the company has yet to acknowledge them. Juggalo? They are the followers of the ICP, well actually they are male follwers, Juggalettes are the female followers. So we decided to give it a shot. We bought the grape can and it tasted awful. AWFUL. Grape Bubble Yum in a can with a ton of small bubbles. Thankfully the Chinese was better.

If I don't have a job, I might as well blog.

Well I made it to Nashville. The roadtrip was amazing but I'll cover that at a later time. Nashville is a funny little microcosm. There is this dichotomy that exists. The downtown is a carnival of cowboy living, the west end is a college town nestled in a bigger city. The banks welcome back the students. The bar at the Holiday Inn is named after the football team. The city is not quite as southern as I expected, but yet it's completely southern. It's not a southern city filled with cowboys and cowboy boots. It's a southern city filled with frat boys and college football. Little did I know reading, "I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell" would prepare me for Vanderbilt life. I haven't directly communicated with the real life Tucker Maxes but at one of our first outtings I saw more than a few mulling around the comedy club. They double fisted beers and yelled, "Yeeeeaaaahhh" a lot. One so much that one of the guys in the Broken Lizard troupe had to tell him to shut up. This weekend I will officially be inducted into college football: Vanderbilt versus Western Carolina. More to follow on that.

The downtown of Nashville is filled with neon lights and country stores, not like cracker barrel. We went down this past Saturday for BBQ on the waterfront. It was slightly disappointing as we couldn't try any of the bbq. Something about health laws. However the downtown was packed. We were confused until we saw Keith Urban was playing that night, with Sugarland as the opener. Still with the country boot stores, country bands playing 3/4 of the day and bbq every other store front I couldn't help but to feel that Fresno has more authentic cowboys. I gather if you leave the city, the real cowboy life begins. Hopefully I'll see some at the state fair. So far though, I really enjoy the city. I really enjoyed the country band turned almost rockabilly. I loved the cross section of artists. Furthermore, I love the diversity of the population.

Surprisingly though, unemployment hasn't brought the creativity. I've come to realize I need to be busy to function. It's too easy to lay in bed until 11:30, go sit by the pool until 3 and then watch TV and apply for jobs until past midnight. Yeah it sounds fun but it's not. It's tiring doing nothing. It's boring. My brain needs stimulation. I need a hobby, a job and about 4 friends. So hopefully the next post will be a bit more creative and a bit funnier.

Wa-hoo!

Recently some of you have asked, anymore dating stories? Well I figured I should address all three of you here. I'm putting the blog on hold, for real.
*GASP* <------you

I actually put my dating life on hold last year but made the decision to pull the plug recently. No, it is not some, I hate men speech, it is a, "I don't have time and not sure where I am going to be six months from now" speech. Actually my faith in men was renewed recently, courtesy of one of the coolest guys I have ever met, thanks! So I'm in a good space; a good, tired, ready to be out of school and find a new job-space.

Did you *gasp* again? Was it the renewed faith or the fact I'm considering leaving? Either way, look forward to possible new entries in about 6 months from now.

Potential Headlines:

Kristin takes on Tokyo: Tokyo's introduction to the ass clap, white gurl style
Kristin goes guidette for a guido: A guide to self-tanning and Preparation H
Kristin perambulates through Portland: Oh god, what was I thinking...
Kristin's mom wins and holds her captive in SC: A Yankee and a Confederate try to make it work
Kristin hightails it to Hoboken: And wishes she was in NYC
Kristin does Denver: The Jersey girl takes on vegan skinny jeans
Kristin navigates New York: Just like Coyote Ugly but good
Kristin stays in San Francisco: And keeps on dating douche bags....

I just called, to say....

So I'm proud to say I haven't been on any terrible dates lately, or any for that matter, but its a good thing not bad. This post was actually inspired by the Facebook 25 things note that has been going around. I did a quick rundown in my head and one of them was I have a love-hate relationship with technology and would love to write a thesis on the popularity of cell phones and its affect on booty calls/dating. I figure this blog is a better venue to unpack that theory. Ok, you think I'm joking but I'm not. Just think back to your life pre-cell phone and your life post-cell phone.

My life pre-cell phone. I had to go back to my room or find a pay phone to call my boyfriend, boy toy, gentleman friend, whatever you want to call it. Then he had to be in his room to even get my call. There might be 3 or 4 missed calls a night. I vividly remember calling one from a pay phone at the Blue Triangle lounge down on Fillmore to try and coordinate plans. And that only happened once. Being drunk enough to find a quarter and a pay phone was dedication. Another time I forwarded my dorm phone to my friend's dorm phone. That was a bit more common.

My life post cell phone. Three AM my phone beeps from some guy typing out some drunk text, "hey wanna come over?" And who knows that could of been a mass text and he was hoping one of us would respond. Pre-cell phone he never would have called that late. I've actually had to make a rule about two years ago that I wouldn't respond to texts after midnight. Even now, I receive some of the lewdest texts from people, the stuff they think they can get away with is unbelievable just because they are hiding behind a key-pad. I can't even put some of it on here it is that bad, straight out of a porno. I've definitely stopped responding to those. Sometimes I get a message the next day, sorry I was drunk, sometimes I don't.

Now taking this one step further. I was at a Superbowl party yesterday and this girl starts talking to me about dating and forms of communication. There was two discussions going on. Does one wait for the three day rule to contact someone and how does this apply to texting. She met a guy at a bar and got his number. Then she went home and sent a text, "Hey I had a great time." He responds back, "Me too." Then the next morning, she responds back and he responds back again, with a conversation closing statement. So what now? Well you make the guy call you or you call him but you do not get into a text message relationship. (that is my feelings on the subject and that is the advice I gave her. I also said the 3 day rule is antiquated.)

Anyway, from there we hit the conversation of technology and dating. She said she refuses to add anyone she dates to her Facebook, Myspace, Friendster, G-chat, AIM, Yahoo, MSN, Bebo, linked in or e-mail. She may be on to something. Apparently the NY Times tackled this issue last friday. It all seems so unpersonal. You used to date a guy and then you'd break up, bam they are gone from your life if you choose but not anymore. If you really want to you need to delete them from all of the above named items. And these social networks are the worst. There they are staring at you when you log on, "So and so is now in a relationship." No thank you.

Even with all of this I am the worst. One time I gave a guy my house number and he actually called. So I tried to get off quick but he asked for my yahoo so I gave him that. The next day there was bob-xxxxx im'ing me. So then I had to break it off via IM. Its my own fault for letting it get through two vessels of communication. I thought my, I'm not ready to date someone was sufficient enough, well he gave me 4 months and im'ed to see if I was over it. I had to say no. He im'ed a week later, I had to block him.

There you have it. I honestly think cell phones have dumbed-down dating, cell phones and technology. Will I still text, yes. When I get drunk should I throw my phone in the bay, yes. If I date you will I add you to my facebook, probably. But I do admit sometimes I long for the days where they had to send a letter or make a phone call. It was so much more personal and appreciated.

So if anyone wants to fund me to do research and see if booty calls have in fact risen with the popularity of cell phones please e-mail me. I need a change in career.

Kristisn't, huh?

Well I didn't receive any fakes but last night I did receive a Kristisn't. She was at the Mac Store in NYC, a place I would never be on my own unless I needed to use a computer or was dragged in by a cultist Mac loving fan. I can barely use my ipod so automatically she's a fake. Plus she's about 10 pounds lighter which leads me to believe she's probably a vegan. Strike two!

Personally, I don't see the resemblance, it is probably the hair, all brunettes look the same right?

Three strikes, she's outta there!

If you do see any Kristisn't's give her $100 and a one way bus ticket to Nebraska, tell her it's her final warning and to never return. I'm sure she can make a nice life there. Reason? I can't be having all these women taking away my thunder, but don't forget to snap a photo first!!

Phake! Watch out now!

This blog took an unexpected twist about a year ago. It was back in December, the day after my birthday to be exact, when we had our first "Phuc" sighting. That was hip-hop Phuc. B ack in March we had our first opportunity to document one of these Phuc posers. From that point on we keep seeing "Phuc" everywhere. Example: Just last week I went to Ruth Chris with two friends and sure enough walking down Van Ness was another "Phuc." Unfortunately we couldn't get our camera out in time to snap a photo but... it reminded me. About 4 months ago when I did experiment back with internet dating I got matched up with a Phluke, as Ryan likes to call them. Odd in my one year of giving it a semi-solid shot I get matched up with a Phlake and a Phomeo. Here is Phoser number 6:


So keep your eye out and if you see any potential Phakes please take a photo and e-mail to: kmcupcake@hotmail.com

All right, Mr DeMille, I'm ready for my close up.

Every year around this time there is always one. They decide, it's my last semester I'm going to give it a shot. Do I blame them, no, but its ballsy. I am, after all, a staff member. At one point, I actually started to wear my fake diamond ring to fend off awkward encounters.

The most classic example and what spawned the ring wearing is when I was unknowingly recruited for a threesome. Apparently he picked me out, invited me out for drinks one night with his girlfriend and I auditioned. Well that's how it went in his mind. In my mind it went, oh this guy seems nice and he's not trying to hit on me because he already has a girlfriend, sure I'll go. Boy was I wrong. I guess I passed the audition because I was invited out for another night and that's when it got ugly and weird. "Isn't she cute?" "Don't you want to kiss her?" NO! Excused myself and left, quickly.

A few days later he apologizes, I'm sorry about that, can we start over like apology. And me, the person who likes second chances said, alright we can hang out. Sure enough they tried again, this time using a sneakier tactic. They got me really drunk and convinced me I needed to go back to their place to sober up before I went home. Their roommate was home, who actually tried again when you get virutally bitch slapped after the first attempt. Well, they do. It got really uncomfortable, really fast and I FREAKED OUT!!! I ran and attempted to stumble home really loaded. I called my friend and made them talk to me the whole way home. Thankfully I made it and can tell the story today.

So there you have it, I don't trust them.

Now back to present time. My coworker is convinced, still, that there is a pool out there. Who can hook up with the registrar's assistant first. And after 8 years of saying no I can't possibly say yes to any of them, this isn't even about the fact that I work here, it's about keeping the streak alive. You go out with one and then you are that girl who dates students. The "Summer Abroad Ho." It's just not going to happen.

Last night one of the nicest ones comes in to pick up something they lost, he's so nice I actually feel bad about his post, kind of. I could tell in the first 5 minutes where this was going but it took about another 10 or 15 to get there, especially with lines like, "so where do you hang out?" "Maybe I'll run into you." "I like to hang out here." "So umm...yeah" It was endearing and he was embarassed, but the clock was tic'ing. Normally I have no problem shooting people down but last night I was so drained from the weekend that I couldn't say no and gave out my number. All these Chandler syndrome men are rubbing off on me, it's terrible! I'll have to do the nice take down later. What kills me is I have the best excuse in the book, I'm not allowed but noooo...here I am awkwardly saying sure and then closing the door and hiding in the office another 15 minutes.

The next day my coworker actually asked, "this was more awkward than the time a student tried to feed you!?!" Yes! And that's saying something.

New Jersey and You, Perfect Together, maybe.

Recently a-what if-came true. In these moments people choose to cope in different ways, me, I usually turn to music, well music and booze. I think I choose music because I consistently fail at achieving any sort of success in the area. Failed saxophone lessons, failed piano lessons, failed attempt at the clarinet, failed guitar lessons, drums even worse and failed singing voice (however! not my fault). Because of this I look to others for inspiration and solace.

I e-mailed 6 of my favorite music loving friends and asked them to make a Top five list. Top five songs you would want played at you funeral, top five songs you listen to when down or top five songs you listen to motivate. One person responded, one person made an attempt over IM, two people blatantly ignored, one said he couldn't think of anything and one sent an e-mail a week later, "my bad."(Update: He mulled it over and sent a top 5 today. It's pretty darn good, thanks!) I was a bit surprised but I guess the topic is a bit morbid. The one who did respond was not surprising, I was picturing it more as, if they made a movie of your life what song would be playing in the final scene. I think he viewed it the same, especially since he believed it was a very thought provoking exercise and he is currently writing a screen play.

I hopped the plane with my new Top Five list and began the trek back home. And trek it was. I showed up at SFO to hear over the loud speaker, "Last call paging passenger Kristin XXXXXX, please report to gate 10 for your flight to JFK." I sprinted to the gate to find out tonight we had a celebrity pilot, the bassist from Oingo Boingo. (Great, I'm definitely going to end up in the Hudson, hopefully he's a better pilot than bass player.) Not to hate on Oingo Boingo but....

I finally arrive in NYC in one piece. This weekend was full of emotions and already I was a bit uncertain. It was comforting to be surrounded by the people I grew up with, stressful because I was about to come face to face with the reason I left, and extremely, extremely sad. No one really knew why I left, not even my best friend. She looked at me and said, well I'm glad you didn't tell me until now, I probably would have decked him, she, however, wasn't the first to say that.

My friend brought his new girlfriend and at one point she leans over and says, "You guy are just like my friends, except you all interdated a lot more than mine." After more thought, a partial rundown, turning bright red at dinner and someone else asking how we all know each other, yes, yes indeed. There's just something about sitting across the table from your 15 year old fling, 13 years later. Some things never change. I am demanding a tree from Kelly, it may involve weeks, large sheets of paper, numerous magic markers and a lot of scotch tape.

What good came out of this weekend? Closure maybe, a reconvergence, a chance to say goodbye, celebration of life and many, many fond memories.

Don't be scared...

Recently I started to write a memoir. Sure I'm a bit young and what exactly have I accomplished in the past 28 years but it was either write a paper for school or start my memoir. It's amazing how easily I can knock out 10 pages in two hours when I care about the topic. Basically the blog inspired the back story so for the next few posts I'm covering part of how this blog came to be.

My friend sent me a text a few days ago regarding the blog. Her friend was considering online dating so her and 4 of her friends sat around and read a few posts. It was her warning and initiation into the world she was about to enter. However, after thinking a bit more about it I began to think, these crazy online dates are the norm for me. A trip to the grocery is rarely just a trip to the grocery store. So maybe its not a warning, its probably just me. Case in point.

I went to my cousin's wedding about five years ago. They have about 50 cousins, not joking, so my sister and I were placed at a table with part of his other cousins, you know the ones that your family cheats on you with. I always feel like but your my cousin, how can you be someone else's cousin, well you can. I can't even remember the guy's name but here I was sitting next to the enemy. I semi-ignored him in the beginning but he seemed nice so we chatted, heck, we're almost family.

Well......he didn't think so. He asked me to dance so I said sure, again reiterating, we may not share DNA but we share a family member and you can't really say no. Anyway, by the end of the night he's asking for my phone number and I didn't know how to turn down someone who is related to someone I'm related to. He was quite persistent too, called for probably a week or so. I mean how can that possibly work? Something about only three sides of a family at a wedding freaks me out.

Hello thank you for coming, which side are you on: Bride or Groom? Both.

So for all my five readers and the two I might have scared off, it's not the arena, it's moi. It shouldn't be as tragic.