Line Anxiety

So as I was waiting in line at Potbelly's yesterday...by myself...I realized that I was very...."angst." The problem: LINE ANXIETY (thanks for the term marf!) Yes, I have a major form of line anxiety.



Line anxiety is when you are standing in a line, nervous about what you are going to order, how you are going to order it, etc, etc. Here is a perfect example:



Yesterday, the lunch line at Potbelly's was snake-ish. It wound around and around and to the door. Dumb of me for deciding to go during the lunch rush, but I was hungrayy! So yes, the line was long. I was about upwards of 30 people deep when i realized that the guy up front was YELLING at people to give their orders from way in the back of the line!!! PANIC!!! AHHHH! Initial thoughts:

• Are they going to be able to hear me from way back here?


• How will my voice sound when I yell out my order?


• What if they ask me something about my order that i dont know and then i become NERVOUS KID: (see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FfZ8yVcnLPs)


• Everyone in line is watching me order the most luda sandwich ("The Wreck") on the menu! are they judging? Do i look skinny today?


• What if i want to change my order last minute?!?! I cant even SEE the menu from back here to make last minute decisions!


• Why is everyone getting wheat bread??!?!?! I want white!!! Will they JUUDDDGGEEE?!

Of course, these nervous thoughts are miiilllddllly insane but let's be honest. No one wants their voice to quiver or falter when placing an order in front of a large crowd. And no one wants to be viewed as the nervous kid.

Here's how things paned out:

Waiter: NEXT!!!

Shaun: (somewhat confident voice) Um...a wreck, please?

Waiter: WHAT?!

Shaun: (No confidence) Can i please have a wreck on white?

Waiter: WRECK ON WHIIIIIIIITTTEEEEE!

Shaun: blushing. awk leg movement. frantic look around. EYE.CONTACT.

Line anxiety happens to me at Potbelly's, Chipotle, Subway, Quiznos... Im sure the first time i go to Ben's Chilli Bowl, i will have extreme line anxiety as well.

I know that I am not the only person this happens to. The line anxiety goes triplefold when im by myself. then i have no one to chat with to take my thoughts away from the pressure. seriously, it's like im in Carnegie Hall, about to do a piano recital whilst im standing in line.

How do i get rid of Line anxiety?! someone PUH-leasseee tell me! im only 24 and cannot live the rest of my life this way!!!!

k thanks. :)

Da Duhty Jurz

If you cannot pronounce/figure out the title, this post is probably not for you.

If you can, then YES. I'm talkin about the new MTV show: Jersey Shore. This show fulfills every stereotype that I have EVER had about new jurz. or juhz. or however they say it. I've only seen bits and pieces of 2 episodes, but i know enough already to get the gist of how every show will be. essentially, there is not a plot, because it's unnecessary. their lives are interesting enough as is.

let's take a trip into the house with the Italian flag flapping lazily in the breeze. "Oh no", says Marf, "it's painted on the outside of the house. Even better." agreed.

first things first. their names. JWOWW. The Situation. Snooki (not to be confused with the ghetto name ...and also the name of my teddy bear...."pooki"). what would my name be? shaunbomb. true story: this was actually an exclusive nickname between me and another guy in highschool who called himself the "tombomb." i coulda .01% maybe survived in da jurz! have you ever asked yourself...what would your jersey name be? apparently, there are links that will answer the question FOR you. google it.

secondly, i happened to be the lucky viewer of the epi where the "houseguests" hit up the jacuzzi. i believe one houseguest jurz gurl told anotha featured jurz girl "stop pretendin to be someone else. at least we are really being real." dont quote me, but it was along those lines. then, 2 girls proceeded to make out with 1 guy. over and over. circulating guys. i can't believe the fake, featured jerz girls who didnt want to do this on camera! cmonnnn! this is expected of you! dont be too haughty taughty for the hot tub makeouts!

thirdly, why are there so many Christian crosses on the hairgelled (sp?) guys? im not sure i want the cross on these hooligans. just sayin. wait! hold the phone! Angelina left! now they are saying grace .."bless all the roomies that are still here," says Snooki. aww..sincerity is truly to be valued. Salud!

ok lastly (for NOW)...can you all understand everything they say? i canNOT. worse than southern accents. oml no. i cannot stop now. i just saw a preview for aNOTHER jacuzzi scene. another MO sesh. but...between all da juhz gurls? no surprises here. anytime i watch this show, i will fail to be surprised. nothing will surprise me. snooki and ryder makin out. with snooki holding some champagne. up!, she's MO'in with Mike now. Mike: This is gettin wild right now. watch the show for the following comments.

comment: "...like...sorry, mom."

ahh such a waste of time that im spending. "and im enjoying it" (Marf.)

alrighty, well 9 more minutes. I could probably write an hour (or more) longer based on forthcoming material. (expect a second post) however, i am not gonna waste more of your time as well. it's already been minutely wasted.

salud.

*disclaimer: I have tons of New Jersey friends. But they are from "New Jersey." Not da juhz. there is a difference in my mind. New Jersey people are legit and entertaining in acceptable ways.

Birds at 3:00 AM?

A bird pooped on my head.

Ok, so here's what happened. After a great night of dancing on the long booths offered at Sign of the Whale in Dupont Circle (golly those booths are fantastic!), well la-dee-dah, the bar closed. We all know it's shameful, but worth it to close down the bar. Honestly.

Anywho...so I'm walking outside and lo and behold! I feel a very light pressure apply to my hurr (aka "hair"). I do not like it when people touch my hair. Let it stick out in tiny pieces, let the wind make it fling in unattractive positions...let it be. I'll deal with it the next time i see myself in a mirror slash window. So, quite naturally, I was slightly alarmed. It also alarmed me that ...in my 3 AM, after a fun night of dancing stupor....the pressure felt very much like a light plop.

Casually, whilst chatting with friends and trying to hail a cab, I reached up onto the top of my head, almost as if placing a little stickout out piece back in. It should be no surprise to you, given the title and leading sentence of this post, that I felt good ole' nasty birdy poo. Yes. poo.

Answer this question for me: WHAT are birds doing at 3 AM at night??!?!??! Shouldn't they be sleeping...perched in their little nesties somewhere?! D suggested that it may have been a bat. And if that is the case....I'm disturbed. Let it be known that birds are my least favorite animal. With their wings and their beaks and their little webbed feet. And their disguisting, discolored poo that lands on the heads of innocent bystanders such as yours truly.

To avoid embarrassment about the whole situation, i casually yelled loudly about the bird, looked glaringly into the skies, and angrily and dramatically continued to put my hand in my bird poo hair in typical shaun nature. Makes TONS of sense.

Next time youre out, avoid birds bc apparently, they too, have digestive issues at uncanny hours of the morning...just like you!

The Sunday Night Blues

Ah, another weekend has come and gone. And not just any weekend: Thanksgiving weekend. Most of us (sorry if you didn't) had Thursday and Friday off, and these past four days of gluttony and sloth have given us not just a hangover from the Natie Lights (thank you, friends from high school), but also a mental hangover.

And now, here we are, getting ready to go into another week, with only our fun memories of this past weekend and future promises of dancing sugarplums, peppermint schnapps, and Santy Claus to get us through the week.

But on this lonely, chubby (too much pumpkin pie and punkin ale) Sunday night, you might be asking yourself, "How do I get through this Sunday night without falling into a deep, deep depression as Monday looms forebodingly over my head?" Here is ANOTHER listicle (sorry) of some ideas of helping you get over your Sunday Night Blues.

1. America's Funniest Home Videos. BOB SAGET, the original and undisputed best host (suck it, Daisy Fuentes), of AFV returns this Sunday to lay on the cheesy, tinged with innuendo, jokes. Although the game "Head, Gut, or Groin" (where you guess where the person in the video is going to get whacked) might remind you of how you felt during/after your family feast, but the giggles induced by fat people falling over and little ballerinas farting (even though they aren't the most sophisticated brands of humor), proves the point that laughter is the best medicine.

2. Snuggies. Okay, at first we got a Snuggie as a gag gift. We would put it on and laugh and laugh. Then one day, as naturally as the rising sun, we began to put on the Snuggie and not laugh. It was something we would fight over. Now, I recommend wrapping up in your Snuggie (mine is leopard print) and envelope yourself in it's fuzzy laziness. I just reached my arm to grab some of Tara's "Jewish Cookies" (apparently not just named as such because her mom is Jewish) and I didn't even have to emerge from my blanket.

3. Delivery. The less movement you have to do on Sunday Blues, the better. I recommend surfing seamlessweb and picking out whatever cuisine your heart desires.

4. Laundry. Okay, this kinda goes against number 3. But I believe that if you accomplish something, however so small, then you won't think you wasted your entire Sunday. This minor accomplishment puts you into your week thinking you've got you life in order. For extra perks, wash your sheets. Also: Shower, tidy up, take out the trash (see Youtube vid (srlsy hilarious) for more inspiration: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4gx3nn6LS6g).

With that, I'm going to continue to lounge, order a big ole Cobb Salad from Souths, and Extreme Makeover Home Edition is going to help ease me into the harsh reality of Monday.

This post brought to you by Snuggies, ABC, & Souths.

Going Out on a (dun dun dun) Weekday

If you know me, then it should not be a surprise that my first post is about going out … on a weekday. Okay, I don’t go out on the weekday THAT much. But when I do...

Everyone knows the joys of Saturday, Friday, even Thursday nights out on the town. Maybe even the glorious and more elusive “Sunday Funday.” But think back… WAY back... to college. Remember the joys of the mythical Wednesday nights? Monday Night Football parties? Tuesday nights playing Land Mines or Chandeliers? Things were different then, sure. We had fewer responsibilities; we had fried food awaiting us at the d-hall; we had naps.

But why should we have stopped after college? (Did you stop after college?) I know most of us grow up, slow down, get corporate. But did our desire to go out as much really go out the window with the handing of a diploma? Here is a little listicle of why going out during the week is STILL the bee’s knees.

1. Happy Hour. The best part of weeknights is happy hour. I’ve found numerous 1-dollar drink bars lately. 1 DOLLAR! The dollar menu! For beer! It’s magical. The best weeknights build from the happy hour, which acts as a foundation for the best, most economical nights. Also, tuesday nights at Happy Ending have free vodka drinks. FREE. Jeez. Please drink responsibly.

2. The Element of the Unexpected. No one goes out on a weekday as an adult (or at least none of my cohorts) and says, “I’m going to have the best time ever, drink too much, get a kebab at 3:30 am, sleep fully clothed.” These plans are generally reserved for a weekend mentality. Which brings me to my point: You’re low expectations on a weeknight make everything seem that much more fun. Fridays and Saturdays are bloated with high expectations, resulting in disappointment, no kebabs, tears, etc.

3. Play the Odds. If you go out during the week, this puts so much less pressure to have all your fun on weekends. I mean a 5 to 2 weeknight to weekend ratio is just bad odds. Might as well spread it out. And then, also, if on those rare weekends you don’t feel like going out, you get to say, “Oh I had a really wild week.” Automatic cool points. A whole other kind of odds: I've noted, single lady friends, that the girl to guy ratio is very much in your favor during the week. Just sayin.

4. You Can Get In Anywhere. Okay, I don’t love clubs. I generally hate everyone IN da clubs. (I DO like dancing on platforms at clubs, though, Shaun). But I’d rather go to a down and dirty bar, have some cheap beers, and listen to music that doesn’t make me want to weep for our generation (and which consequently makes me feel like my mom). BUT there is something to be said for clubs on a weekday. First of all, it’s much easier to get in. They need your cash (there’s a recession, people). Little do they know you don’t plan on spending a dime (girl power!), but that’s beside the point. Also, celeb sightings are much more likely during the weekday. I saw Joe Jackson, Lil Jon, and Mickey Rourke all on different nights, all during the week (two-thirds of those are terrible, but still). Third, it’s sometimes cool to tell people later that you’ve been to those clubs, especially when you go back on a Friday or Saturday and the doormen laugh in your face. When you get rejected you get to say: “Um, last time I was in 1oak I just walked right in like I owned the place.” Then you get to feel cool and you’re friends will wonder why they aren’t as cool as you! Maybe that’s harsh, but I bet it was their idea to go to a lame club to begin with. So there.

There are numerous other reasons going out on a weekday is good (easy to get cabs, e.g.). But this is all if you can balance and still be responsible at work the next day. (This, I’m guessing, will be for a future post. We can all compile our best strategies for being productive and hiding hangovers the day after an elusive weeknight boondoggle.)

So, dear friends, your humble narrator puts you to sleep with those thoughts. Next time you need a Tuesday tipple, give me a call. We can go get 1-dollar drinks, free drinks, a kebab and have a nice time. Don’t mind if ado. Now I'm going to get a drink.

Sir, can I dance on the stage?

S: If you know me, then it should not be a surprise that my first post is on the art of the platform dancin. Shocking. However, I found a new high this weekend that I would like to share and pass on to all you platform lovas and hatas. Check out these shenanigans.

A typical Saturday night in DC = nothing special. Same crowd of mildly stylish people mingling and dancing to techno jamz. Let's not forget about the green laser beams that ridiculous clubs like Ultrabar impose on my dancin eye. My expectation and excitement for the night merely centered around my new skinny jeans, at least one dry gin martini (extra olives), and my close circle of friends. Nothing to lose control about. We all know the feeling.

However, this night took a new turn when I was introduced to....The Vegas Lounge. Get serious...if you hate this place then you obviously were either denied entrance or are just..strange. Because this place was awesome for a number of reasons...well-dressed crowd, friendly bartenders, I saw W&L people outside of Glover park / Gtown, and....A MOTOWN BAND ON STAGE. I had stepped back into college...except, as one w&ler stated, the band was better. Now if you have ever seen me "by night", you will know that i always take a quick surveillance of the area to count the number of platforms/potential platforms and the ones that i should take by storm. Literally. There is almost ALWAYS a platform in the place. And if there isnt, I make one. D and I even discussed getting a small wooden box to bring to homecoming and place in the midst of dfloors. Unfortunately, we couldnt make this arrangement since HC was a last minute decision this year. Thankfully, pumptown came to it's senses and built it's own platform this year. Drama avoided.

Anywho, i could tell when I walked into vegas lounge on P that the stage was going to be a bit of an issue. Bring on the challenge! First of all, the 7 member band was kind of overwhelmin the stage with all their instruments and wires. No room for dancin. Second, there were desperadoes lining the front of the stage with hands outreached. I call these "stage clingers." They never actually get on stage...they just thirst for it. Hard. It's okay if you have no desire to get on stage and think it's ridiculous. But it is NOT okay to be a stage clinger. They just get in the way and block the entrance. Third, after a few songs where i was able to push my way to the front of the stage with my group of 5, i saw several girls request to stage dance and get turned down. SHAMEFUL. That could NOT be me.

It was then that i mentioned to my friends that, yes, i would get on stage. how? im not sure. but it was gonna happen.

Just to clarify before going forward, the need to get on stage or be above everyone else in the party, surveying the crowd, is global. If you don't think this is true, look around next time you go out. There will be a girl or two on some couch, platform, raised surface, etc. or some guy fist pumpin. However, not all are worthy to be on stage. Again, it's an art. So no judgin. Don't let the unworthy ruin it for the rest of us.

So to wrap up my babble, i spotted a tambourine...my first contact and attn grabber from the band. Once i had the tambourine, i carefully made eye contact with the lead vocalist and guitarist and pointed to them like "hey, you want this on your stage." and sure enough, the lead guitarist reached out his hand and led me up the steps. BAM! The moment was perfect. Lots of pleading eyes ...sad eyes..watched as i danced appropriately, pointed at various friends in the crowd, shook the tambourine into the mic, and flung matilda (aka tilly, my oversized clutch) around for all to see. After one song, i gracefully left the stage. All it takes. all. it. takes.

In my head, people wanted to meet me after this dance slash were mistaking me for a celeb. Now, i know that ...realistically, they were probs thinkin "who is this girl? how old is she? are we still in college?" etc etc. But those thoughts dont come across my mind and hence, i gots NO shame.

Anyway, so whether or not this is a glowing review of The Vegas Lounge (illll be back!) or an enlightening story about stange dancin...idk. What i DO know is this: if you ever go out with me in any vicininty and a platform presents itself, just know that I'm thinking --> dont mind if "ado"!

Welcome!

D: Dearest readers,

Welcome to Don't Mind If Ado. Yes, ANOTHER blog has joined the blogosphere.

We figured, "hey... we're mildly funny... we have computers... we have free time that doesn't need to be filled by watching Drunk Guy Tries to Buy Beer on Youtube repeatedly." So we, your humble narrators, have decided to share (not over share, we promise) our lives in the Gotham and the Beltway, from the mundane to the miraculous.

Anyway, so welcome to the blog, readers!

What should we tell them about our blog?

S: That it's worth it to us to take time out of our day to impose on you our ‘impression’ of the world…so either take it with a grain of salt or heed to our instruction and live without regret and frequent lapses in judgment ... like those average hooligans

...I just really wanted to use that word.

Actually...I built the paragraph entirely around the use of that word.

D: “Hooligans’ is good word.

S: This blog has been a long time comin’…