WTF, Google?

Dear Google,


This morning, as I am reading my horoscopes while sucking down my iced coffee before my work day, I click on my Love Horoscope from Horoscope.com, and see this:

Please note this ad:

Why in God's name would I want that shoe??? Also, what am I looking at on the internet that would lead the algorithms to believe I might be interested in this shoe? I would sooner go to Oranum.com to obtain the Best Private Readings Prices! I am personally offended, and hoping this ad never surfaces again.


Sincerely,

Disgruntled Internet Surfer



P.S.,

In case you can't read it in the photo above, this is my horoscope for today:

"You have a reputation for being a little emotionally detached, yet you also have a very earthy sense of passion. This comes to the fore today, when you experience a particularly close and deepening bond with the significant other in your life. The astral alignment means that you have a chance to create a very strong connection that will stabilize the relationship for some time to come."

Clearly my passion erupted from its dormant status upon my seeing that awfully offensive shoe. We'll see if any bonds form with any eligible bachelors today, too. Stay tuned.

You've Got Mail

I was waiting for the N Q R on a Wednesday morning at about 6AM. I needed to be to work by 6:30AM to train for the morning shift of my new job, and gave myself ample time to get to the office. Frustrated that a train hadn't arrived yet, I roped my hair into a bun in an effort to prevent any sweat from developing, and hoped a train would go by in either direction to at least stir the air in the hellish July subway tunnels.

Because it was so early, there weren't many other people waiting for the train, but I could see one guy further down the track pacing a bit. He starts walking in my direction, and all I can think is this MF-er better not try talking to me while I'm standing here sweating.

Within 30 seconds, he approaches me, saying, "Excuse me, do you know when the next R train is coming?" I said, "I have no idea, but I hope it comes soon because I’m really hot." He explained that he knew a Q train was coming at 6:10. He was getting nervous, though, because he wasn't sure what time he was supposed to be on set. Then he asked if he could use my phone to check his Gmail because his phone was dead. He thought he might have to be there at 7, and he still had to go home to get his stuff, so probably wouldn't make it there in time if that's when he had to be there. My concern about handing my phone to a stranger must have been written all over my face because he then said I could hold his phone if I wanted while he looked. So I hold his phone, and we’re trying to figure out how I can log myself out of Gmail so he can log in, and end up doing so through Safari instead of the Gmail app.

Meanwhile, I’m mentally preparing to chase him down the track Alicia Silverstone-style if he tries to take off with my iPhone.

He finally gets onto his own account, and he doesn’t have to be to set until like 10:45. I'm not sure how someone can be that far off with remembering when they need to be somewhere, especially early in the morning, but he seemed relieved. A Q train comes, and I say, "Ok well I’m going to take this train," and he gives me my phone back. He said he would take the train, too, so we board the subway together.

We sit down next to each other, and he asks me what I do. I told him I work for a bank, and was heading in earlier than usual to train for the early shift. This whole time, my primary concerns are no longer regarding the safety of my phone, but whether I've sweat through my dress yet or not. I am very thankful to be back in air conditioning. Then he tells me I have beautiful eyes. I was like, "oh, thanks. You do, too." Because he did. He was really cute, and had the light eyes and long eyelashes that always reel me in. He asked if i was Irish, and I told him I am, but I'm mostly Polish. He started talking about going to set again today, and that he was concerned it's not the role he wanted. He was told it would be a speaking role, but wasn't convinced. He also didn't want to waste his time in roles that weren't speaking roles. I only take the train two stops, so at this point, I was at my destination. He seemed shocked I was leaving so soon, but introduced himself right before I stood up from my seat and we shook hands.

As I was about to step off of the train, I wished him luck with his day.

He said, "Well let me know if you want to go out sometime. You have my e-mail address now."

BOOM!

One of my ex-boyfriend's friends is a pedi cab driver nicknamed "Boom". My ex mentioned him fairly often while we were together, but I'd only hung out with this guy once (the day that I lost my bracelet in the city). My office is near Central Park, so on nice days, I like to sneak out to go sit in the park for a little while. On one of these nice days in the park, I was sitting on a bench when I looked up to see a pedi cab coming around the corner with an Irish flag on the seat. I stood up and called out, "Boom?" The guy stopped his pedi cab, and replied, "Yes, I'm Boom." Then I was like "I'm Lynnie, Daniel's ex-girlfriend." He remembered me, and we got to chatting. At this point, Daniel and I were broken up for about 5 months, I still wasn't over him, and thought this was a sign that we were getting back together. Boom and I continued chatting, and he asked if I wanted to take a ride. I was on my lunch break, but it was such a gorgeous day, I figured, why not? He drove me around a small loop in Central Park, and dropped me off on 6th Avenue. He said he would drive me back to my office, but there was too much traffic, so I offered to walk. I walked back to my office elated that he would relay the updates of my post-breakup life to Daniel - I was settling into a new job, and had been on several dates, yet no one quite compared to Daniel.

The following week, disappointed that I hadn't received any reunion phone calls or text messages from Daniel, I was walking from the subway to my office when I thought I heard someone calling my name. I glanced quickly behind me, but didn't bother taking out my headphones, assuming I was hearing things in my pre-caffeinated state. I heard my name again, and this time, Boom was grabbing my arm to get my attention. Shocked that I ran into him again in such a short period of time, after having only seen him once before in my life, I ripped out my headphones and said, "Omg, hello again!" He said that it was very strange that we ran into each other again, and that these encounters must mean something. At the time, Boom was engaged to a woman he'd been seeing for a few years, and I didn't realize that he was hitting on me. I've never been very good at that, or at realizing when I'm flirting with someone. I just assume most people are as friendly as I am, to my detriment at times. He said that he'd gotten drinks with Daniel over the weekend, and told me he mentioned to Daniel that he'd seen me. Much to my dismay, Boom relayed that Daniel did not seem phased that we'd seen each other, and just carried on drinking his beer after Boom told him.

About nine months later, I was driving through the city with a coworker when I glanced over while stopped at a light and saw boom again in his pedi cab. I told the guy I was with that it was my ex-boyfriend's friend, and he could not get over the fact that I actually know a pedi cab driver, bringing it up again at work drinks later that week. I didn't say anything to Boom that time, and he was facing away from me, so he had no clue I was there.

On a Wednesday afternoon two or three months after seeing him in the street, I needed to go to Best Buy to get my computer fixed. It was about 90 degrees with 80% humidity that day, so I was hoping to do this as quickly as possible. Walking down Broadway, I ran into Boom yet again on a corner. He waved at me before I noticed it was him, and after asking me how I was, he said again that running into each other must mean something. I told him that I'd gotten another job within my company, and was seeing someone for a while. While David, the guy I was seeing, was a great guy, David just wasn't the right guy for me. I told Boom I'd dated a few other people since I ended things with David, but nothing serious yet. That's when Boom asked me when we were going to go for a drink. He said he and his fiance broke up, and she moved to DC. I told him it was highly inappropriate for us to hang out given the history with my ex. Boom argued that since Daniel and I had both moved on with our lives, it wouldn't matter that we'd been together in the past. Despite this argument, I told him it was nice to see him, and went along my way to Best Buy.

The following Monday, after surviving an epic case of the Mondays caused by a weekend of drinking and eating my way through NYC with my cousin visiting from Buffalo, I ran down to the subway to head home. As I was descending the stairs, Boom was ascending the stairs. Yet again, he said it was very strange that we were running into each other, and it must be fate. He asked again when we were getting together for drinks, and in my haze, I gave him my number. That subway ride home was the longest of my life. I couldn't wait to get out of the subway and relay what had just happened. While I was over Daniel at this point, I couldn't believe I'd given his friend my number, and needed a dose of reality from my friend S. Just the day before, I'd coached S through some post-drinking anxiety, so it was time to return the favor. We talked through it, and after a great spin class, I was feeling less like a crazy person.

Of course, Boom texted me later that night, leading to a conversation that lasted for the rest of the night which I can only attribute to boredom. He asked when we were getting those drinks, and I avoided the question. The next day, he texted me again asking when we were getting together, and I said to be honest, I wasn't comfortable meeting him for a drink. He accepted my response, and told me to let him know if I changed my mind.

You think I would've just ended it here, but after girls' night drinks with co-workers that Thursday, they convinced me that one drink wouldn't kill me. In my drunken stupor, I texted Boom saying one drink wouldn't hurt, and that I could get together the following week. We made tentative plans for the following Thursday. He texted me that Sunday night asking how my weekend was, and wanting to solidify plans. I said I had to check my schedule with work the next day, and have yet to respond to that question.

Olympic Andrew

My first date with another Andrew from Tinder, Olympic Andrew, was quite an adventure. I met him at the Ginger Man in midtown for a drinks after work, and to watch Sabres/Rangers game since we are both Sabres fans. After ordering drinks, I suggested relocating to another bar down the street with more TV's. He started telling me that he'd been on Craigslist earlier, and we could go to the game if I wanted. Surprised, I immediately agreed, and we rushed down to Union Square to pick up the tickets, then came back to Madison Square Garden to watch the game. We had a blast, chatting with the other Buffalo fans throughout the game, and then getting more food and drinks at a nearby bar afterward. I was impressed, and excited to hang out with him again.

Unfortunately, the following week I was going to Buffalo for my grandfather's 80th birthday, then leaving for Costa Rica the week after that. During that week I would be in the area, he was heading down to Dallas for work. When he wanted to get together before I left for Buffalo, I explained that while I did want to see him again, I couldn't stay out for long since my flight out the next morning was early. Regardless, we met for Mexican that Tuesday night. The date paled in comparison to our first, and we hugged goodbye. After getting back to my apartment, I received texts from him saying that he "was disappointed [he] didn't get any kisses". Incredibly put off by his choice of words, I referred to an earlier conversation when I explained that my dad always told me that "boys chase girls, girls don't chase boys". If he wanted to kiss me, he should have made a move. He laughed, and said he wanted to make sure we got together when we were both back in town despite our conflicting travel schedules.

We continued texting over the weekend I was in Buffalo, including two conversation on Easter Sunday. He suggested possibly getting together that Sunday night after I got back from Buffalo, but there were no solid plans. He texted me Sunday morning saying his friends invited him to their Easter dinner, and couldn't make it. I didn't really think we would actually hang out, so wasn't disappointed or surprised. Later that night, he texted me saying Happy Easter, and asked how my weekend was, as if we hadn't spoken earlier that day. I knew he was out drinking and watching soccer all day, so I let it slide. There were several other times he asked me if I'd been out in Tinder dates, and seemed convinced that I was avoiding him, even though I kept explaining I was just busy with these trips. He tried to get me to meet up with him that Monday night, but I told him it wouldn't work for me. He left that Tuesday, and we both wouldn't be in town at the same time again until after I got back from Costa Rica.

Returning to work after 8 days in paradise was pretty brutal, and I spent the majority of that week coaching myself through my post-vacation depression, while trying to get back into my gym routine. Needless to say, I wasn't very excited to meet up with someone I barely knew, especially one who was pressuring me to make time for him so early. The day we were supposed to hang out, we had the following conversation.

I was convinced I would hear from him again, but surprisingly did not. He'd displayed some red flags earlier in our text convos, but I wasn't expecting to be berated by a man who was basically a stranger. Oh, he was also an Olympian, and that's why I call him Olympic Andrew. I've heard from friends that the athletes can be the craziest men out there, but this guy was certainly one of the rudest I've encountered.

St. Paddy's Day 2007

N was the live souvenir boyfriend I brought home with me from studying abroad in Australia. He visited me at college for a month, one week of which was during my Spring Break. We went to visit my family in Buffalo so he could see Niagara Falls for the first time, and meet some of the fam. After a few days in Buffalo, we drove to Boston for some more site seeing, and stayed with one of my friends from school. The plan was to drive back to my parents' house in New Jersey on the 16th so we would be able to go into the city for the St. Paddy's parade the next day. Unfortunately, as we left Massachusetts and entered Connecticut, a huge snow storm hit.

While I already wasn't the best driver in clear conditions, I still insisted on driving my car. N (a mechanic, mind you) asked me several times if I wanted him to drive, but I argued that I was the better candidate since he'd never driven in snow at all. We drove by several accidents along the highway, and were going about 15 mph for several miles. N even snapped a few photos as we passed some of the mangled cars, and I warned him that it was bad karma. Suddenly, despite my grandma speed, I lost control of the car, and could not stop it from crashing into the guard rail. We were ok, and got out of the car to survey the damage. N's mechanical skills were a godsend at this moment, and he changed the tire in the middle of the snow storm with no gloves. We made our way to a repair shop nearby from the direction of the police officer who helped us. My tires had gone bald, and were in no condition to attempt to prevent this accident. Although the exterior looked like a dinosaur picked up my Civic and taken a bit out of the front, driver-side corner, it was fully functioning. We replaced the tires, and drove the car to my school in CT. From there, we took the train back to my parents' house.

A bit shaken from the events, we arrived safely at my parents' house in NJ, and while my parents were not happy to hear about the accident, they were thankful we were both fine. Still determined to celebrate St. Patrick, and with road sodas in hand, we joined my friends the next morning on an early train to the city to participate in the festivities. All day we drank our way from bar to bar, meeting up with my friend K's friends from college as well. At one point, K's boyfriend turned to me, and said, "yo, did N piss his pants?" I glanced over, and sure enough, N had peed in his pants. This probably should have embarrassed me more than it did at the time, but N seemed less concerned than I was about the situation, so we carried on celebrating.

By the time we all got back to Penn Station to head home, we were all incredibly intoxicated. N was in really bad shape, and I let him pass out on my lap on the ride home. Much of our entourage also dozed off in the seats near ours. Convinced N was going to puke at some point, I had a plastic bag in tote. Nature called, so I left N with the plastic bag before searching the train for the nearest bathroom. My friend Joey told me when I returned that N puked in my bag. Assuming he meant the plastic bag that I left with N, I sat down next to him in our seat to deal with the damage. That's when I realized that N spewed his car-bomb-jack-and-coke-and-pizza vomit into my pocketbook instead of the plastic bag. I planned to toss the whole thing, but first, I fished out my wallet along with his passport, since we both needed our I.D.'s.

Karma certainly did a number on both of us in those few days, but being the great boyfriend he was, N made up for his drunken mess by buying me a designer bag I wanted, and treating me to dinner at my favorite restaurant. Ahhh, young love.

Margs and Guac

On a unseasonably warm January night, my roommate K and I met J, another roommate from college, in the city for our usual reunion dinners of Mexican and margaritas. We chose Caliente Cab Co. -- one of the many Mexican joints in the city that offers fresh, made-at-the-table guacamole to be chased down with dangerously strong margaritas. J returned from California earlier that day after being home for the holidays, I recently returned from a week in the Dominican Republic with my family, and the craziness of the holidays in general prevented the three of us from hanging out for over a month.

The hostess sat us down at a table near the bar area right after we arrived. As the waitress brought us our margs and guac, J updated us on work and her time back at home. J, as usual, reported she busily accomplished more in the last few weeks than most do in a lifetime. Always entertaining and inspiring, her drive and persistence will surely qualify her to run the world some day. I cannot wait to see what she does with the White House, and not just with her interior decorating skills. Scraping the bottom of the guacamole bowl, K and I filled her in on our own developments at work, and I shared some stories from my recent trip. At that point in my life, I gave my number to basically anyone who asked, and I'd been on a bunch of good dates recently with one guy in particular. I caught the girls up on his credentials and those dates. It was nothing serious yet, but he seemed like a good guy, and I was hopeful this was going somewhere. During that time, I noticed a couple walk past our table heading to their own. I made eye contact with the guy, mentally noting how cute he was, but disappointed (as usual) that he had a girlfriend.

I headed to the bathroom downstairs while we waited for the waitress to run our credit cards, and when I returned to the table, we were ready to leave. Exiting first, I saw the guy from earlier leaning against the wall outside of the restaurant, smoking a cigarette. "Hello," he said to me in a brogue. "You're stunning. What's your name?" I've notoriously been hit on at places ranging from happy hours to funerals, so while flattered, I wasn't totally surprised at this move. The universe never ceases to amaze me, after all. I told him my name, and he made sure to let me know that the girl inside the restaurant was a friend from home. J started asking him more about where in Ireland he was from, since she studied abroad in Dublin. They were really chatting away, and since I wanted to get to another bar to meet other friends, I interrupted them: "So do you want my number?" He said of course he did, took out his phone, and saved my number. He texted me two days later asking if I wanted to meet him for drinks that weekend. It happened to be my birthday weekend, so I told him I had plans, but could meet the weekend after that.

Two weeks after we first met, I went to meet him for drinks in the East Village. The polar opposite of two weeks prior, snow fell all day long, turning the sidewalks into a slushy mess. I decided to wear flat boots with a sweater dress (instead of my usual first date outfit of pumps with a wrap dress) under my North Face sleeping bag parka. Not knowing if my conversation with this guy would last longer than five minutes, I made backup plans with my friend D who would be out that night, and separate plans with J as well. The only things I knew about this guy were that he was Irish, lived in the Bronx, and played basketball that Monday night. I also wasn't 100% sure what he looked like, but I figured if anything, I'd just have a drink with him, and then meet my friends.

It was the first time I was running behind on my way to a date, and texted him saying I would be late. He jokingly tsk tsk-ed me, but told me to take my time. I walked into the bar, slightly concerned I wouldn't recognize him, but immediately felt at ease when he turned to say hello. By the time I saddled up in the bar stool, it was 8:45. He already had a drink, and the overwhelming beer menu intimidated me. When he said he was drinking Bud Lights, though, I followed suit. Phew.

Before I knew it, the bartender was kicking us out. We'd successfully chatted the night away, ordering a bar pie when we inevitably got hungry, and at some point, he went in for a kiss that made everyone in the bar disappear. We stumbled out into the street, searching for a place nearby so he could get more cigarettes. After some debate about what to do next, a taxi took us back to my apartment for a fully-clothed adult sleepover. He stayed the next day until I left for yoga at 4:45 that afternoon. During that time, we'd both received worried text messages and phone calls from our friends asking if we were still alive. We walked together toward my gym and the train he was taking back to the Bronx, and kissed goodbye. When I checked my phone after yoga, a text reiterating how much fun he'd had greeted me, and we made plans to see each other again the following Friday. Several wonderful dates later turned into dating for the rest of that year.

Belmar Lynnie

K and I went down to the beach in Belmar one Saturday during a summer when my sister had a share house there. The day turned overcast, so instead of lying on the beach all day like we'd plannned, we headed to happy hour at D'Jais. After a few casual drinks outside, we moved inside for the happy hour specials that started. That's when things escalated quickly. The bartender kept chatting with us, giving us shots we couldn't refuse. By the time HH ended, we were three sheets to the wind, but headed to my sister’s house. We attempted to freshen up a bit while pregaming for another house party we planned to attend in another town. A few people we knew from high school would be there, including one really cute guy in particular, J. Our cab came to take us there, and then we drank, danced, and mingled the night away. I spent the majority of the night hanging out with J, and decided to stay at the party after my girlfriends left.

Cut to J and I waking up in the basement the following morning. Nothing serious happened, but there I was with this cute guy, yesterday's eyeliner down to my chin (or so I imagined), and no immediate escape back to my sister's house. After a trip from the basement to the bathroom, the mirror calmed any eyeliner fears, and I realized I was still fairly presentable (#winning). J and I hung out with the guys there for a few hours that morning, cleaning up the wounded soldiers and pizza crusts left from the party. Around noon, J FINALLY drove me back to my sister’s house. I was starving. I needed to fill the girls in on my night with J, and my stomach.

The girls were on the beach, so I went to meet them there. Much to my dismay, they'd already made a trip to Dunkin' hours earlier. We decided to go to the Parker House for their $10 Sunday lobster deal, and a little Sunday Funday action. We got to the Parker house around 1PM. The Parker House is one of those places with several bar areas, along with a main restaurant area. I walk up the steps to the main hostess stand, and ask the hostess if I can get their lobster deal there. She told me I had to go around to the back bar. I walk through the back entrance toward the bathroom, and ask the first bartender I see if this is where I can get a lobster. He told me that deal was only downstairs, so I go downstairs to that bar. Apparently I went too far downstairs, because after asking another person for a lobster, they sent me up one more flight to the packed bar area on the porch outside. I finally push through the crowd to get to the bar outside, and for the fourth time, I ask a Parker House employee, "Can I have a lobster?" Finally, my lobster order was placed in the right spot. It took another 10 minutes or so to get the lobster. Once I had the lobster in hand, I obviously had to crack the f*cking thing open to get any substantial food. I was so hungry, I walked back up to the saint who finally served me my lobster to ask if I could PLEASE have a piece of bread or something to go with it. He offered me a hamburger bun which I quickly split in two and dunked into the butter.