I'll have the pasta with a side of abstinence

James: "Let's talk about how I recently went on a date with a girl and she used the word fornicate at the dinner table on the first date. The convo was actually quite notable. She was talking about how she loves babies, so much so, that if she actually got pregnant she might not be able to give it up. So, she just chooses not to fornicate. Quote, end quote."

Me: "No way did she really say that."

James: "I shit you not. Over meatballs at inoteca on the LES."

Ha, I'm guessing that was quickly followed by a "check, please." 

Oh, that's why.

Don't go to the grocery store hungry. It's a piece of advice I've never really understood. I mean, I know that you buy twice as much when you're hungry, but what's so wrong with that? I never regret it later. In fact, I am quite happy with myself the next day when I look in my fridge and it's chock full of fun stuff like maple dipped sausage links and pounds of thinly sliced deli meat and cheese.

Yesterday I was starving so I stopped by the store for some chips and salsa but ended up stocking up on the essentials: red velvet cake, pecan tarts, ham/cheese hot pockets etc. I walked to the checkout line gabbing on the phone, feeling slightly guilty like I often do about being the obnoxious person on the phone, while the lady rung me up. I felt bad enough to feel guilty but obviously not bad enough to hang up. Then I looked into my bag and realized I didn't have my wallet. Shit. Now I wasn't just the obnoxious person on the phone, I was the obnoxious bimbo standing in her bikini and cover up, with a TriDelt hat on, who had just rung up $100 worth of groceries and had forgotten her wallet at home. I hung up my cell, apologized profusely to the woman and rushed home as I weighed my options. I could go back to my apartment, grab my credit card, run back and pay for my groceries. Or I could just bask in my embarrassment, and stay at home, never to show my face at the grocery store ever again. Or at least not without a disguise. Maybe with my glasses on and a completely non-ditzy outfit. But if I didn't go back, all of that delicious food I had just purchased — or rather, picked out — would go to waste. 

So I returned to the store, mortified, and quickly paid the bill. I half-jokingly said to the lady, who had to wait to check anyone else out until I came back,  "You probably hate me huh?" She laughed. Hmm, I'll take that as a yes.

Maybe the reason you shouldn't go to a grocery store hungry has nothing to do with how much  you might buy. Maybe you shouldn't go to a store hungry because when you don't have food in your system you might not think straight, and do something stupid like try to purchase a feast when your only methods of payment are SPF 4 and a beach towel.

Why hello there foot! Meet my mouth.

There are a lot of stereotypical girlfriend things that I'm just not good at. I don't put on an apron, make a casserole and bake homemade cookies, for example. In fact, I don't even own an apron. I bought one once, and that night I got into a fight with the BF. It was right when we moved in together, and I remember I started to say, "I slaved over a hot stove for you and now you are picking a fight —" when I stopped myself, appalled. I was so ashamed that those cliched words had almost come out of my mouth that I took off the cute yet fashionable Anthropologie apron, threw it on the floor and made a silent oath with myself that I'd never purchase another one again.

I also don't clean the dishes, like, ever. I'm not neat and tidy. I don't wear a lot of pink.... well, you get the idea. I'm not the perfect girlfriend in many ways. But if there's one thing I'm consistently GREAT at it's families. Not to brag, but usually, parents love me. I've never really embarrassed myself too badly in front of a BF's family before. 

Well — there's a first time for everything right?

I recently stayed at the BF's aunt's house on a weekend where his grandparents were also in town. I'd met most of his family before, except for his aunt and uncle. We were all seated at the dinner table and chatting, when his grandmother started telling a story about when she was younger, and went shopping at a store in NJ:

"The sales associate walked right up to me and told me I couldn't afford to shop at their store. She refused to even help me look around."

Now, before you judge me, I want you to stop and think if this story sounds remotely familiar at all. Does it ring any bells for you? Because it definitely did for me. And before I could properly think about what I was about to say I blurted out:

"Oh! You were like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman!"

Stunned silence at the dinner table. Incredulously, the BF's aunt looks over at me and says, "Did you just call my mother a prostitute?"

Shit. When I think of Pretty Woman I of course just think of one of my favorite movies and one of my favorite actresses... but all of a sudden I realized, yes. I had in fact, just called the BF's beloved Mimi a whore.

Luckily Mimi and the rest of the family have a sense of humor, and laughingly poked fun at me a little before shrugging it off. Until, of course, later on when I jokingly berated a male dinner guest when he said something inappropriate towards women and I said "I'd be careful what you say, you are the only man here at a table full of girls." Oh right, except for my boyfriend who was sitting next to me and was mildly offended but mainly used it as an excuse to tell me I was on a roll.

When I said goodnight to Mimi she hugged me and whispered in my ear, "You have a lot of making up to do!" I figured she was referring to my faux pas about saying it was a room full of girls, and that the making up was to the BF and not to her after implying she was a prostitute. Which was less worrisome, although a tad more disconcerting. But maybe I just have an inappropriate mind.

Before going to bed, Mimi handed me a 17-page-story the BF's younger cousin had written, and asked me to read it and give her my opinion, since I'm an esteemed professional writer and everything. (Ok, I might have exaggerated that last part).

I came downstairs the following morning and as the family was getting breakfast together Mimi asked me, in front of everyone, what I thought of the story.

Absentmindedly, I answered, "Oh, I fell asleep after reading the first page."

In Yogi Berra's words  — it was like deja vu all over again. Everyone looked at me in silence for half a second, before I realized what I had just said.

"No! Sorry!! I didn't mean — it's not that I feel asleep because the writing was so boring! I meant, I was really tired so I tried to start reading it but wanted to dedicate my full attention to it today, so I put it down..."

But it was no use. The damage was done. 

"Do you always say such malapropisms?" the BF's aunt asked me.

No, not usually. But like I said, there's a first time for everything — even personally insulting the writing of a 12-year-old to her face, in front of her entire family. 

And of course, calling your boyfriend's grandmother a hooker.

If William Golding Set Up Wall Street in Africa

I saw this in a store window while walking down Park Avenue the other day. Seriously? Boys — does this make you want to purchase this suit? Or rather, girls — do you look at this and immediately think of how your boyfriend would look in it? If the answer is yes, that's a little animalistic of you.

It's like Lord of the Flies meets Armani. Or something out of the new Nora Roberts book Divine Evil... but that reference may be lost on 99.9% of you.