Seven days.

In seven short days, we’ll be electing our next President. By now, I’m sure you’re well aware of the importance of this election, and regardless of your political views (clearly, you already know mine), making your voice heard by voting is important. No, it’s more than important, it’s imperative.

In a lot of states (California, Georgia, and North Carolina, to name three that I’ve called home in the past), you can vote early. I’ve already done it, just in case I had to head out of town that day. Or in case the lines were too long. Or the machines were broken. Regardless, I’ve cast my vote (GO OBAMA!) and strongly urge you to do so as well, either sometime leading up to the election or on next Tuesday, November 4th.  That’s what the video above – coming from my brilliant and talented and, ok, super fucking hot friend Andrew Bancroft & his pals – is urging you to do. I can just remind you with my words, but they are upping the ante and providing you with an even bigger incentive: checking them out in their skivvies. You won’t be sorry to watch it, nor will you be sorry when you put on that "I Voted" sticker.

VOTE.

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…and the adventure begins! (Aside: @daisysf & I are total dorks.), originally uploaded by Aubs.

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…and I’ve got the sticker to prove it (and an extra to wear on Nov 4th!), originally uploaded by Aubs.

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VOTED!, originally uploaded by Aubs.

Many of you know that I’ve always wanted to write a book. And by ‘write a book’, I do actually mean ‘publish or finish one of the five or so I’ve started over the years.’ Lofty goal, certainly, and I have as many excuses for why I haven’t yet accomplished this as I do former crushes. But today – well, actually, on August 26th when it officially came out – everything has changed.

I’m published. In a book. A HARDCOVER book. A hilarious and funny and witty and amazing and "OMG I couldn’t be prouder to be in this masterpiece" book. My friend Sarah Brown (who yes, I have known for nearly SEVEN years through the magical power of the Internets) started this event called Cringe in NYC where people went to a local coffee shop, stood up and read their most embarrassing journal and diary entries. It’s been a hit for years, and she got a book deal out of it. So when she called for entries (and it happened to coincide with my Mom discovering a whole box of notes I had written from Middle School & subsequently sending them on to me) it was like shooting fish in a pre-pubescent, overly hormonal-fueled barrel. I sent on two of the best ones, and alas, one that we’ve titled "Let’s Still Be Friends" made the cut. I won’t go into the ensuing hilarity that included me having to track down Nick, the author of the note (it was sent TO me) but it involved one of my more awkward stalking-on-MySpace moments ever and an email that began with "Hey Nick, it’s Aubrey – remember, from Middle School? So we haven’t talked in, uh, twenty years, but I have the funniest question for you…" You know, just one of those emails you get every day.

I’m so beyond honored to be in this book wish such great, amazing, hilarious writers – besides Sarah of QueSeraSera fame, Heather Armstrong (Dooce), Maggie Mason (MightyGirl/MightyGoods/MightyJunior), Joshua Newman (Self-Aggrandizement), Alice Bradley (Finslippy), Greg Howard (GeeseAplenty), and Ariel Meadow-Stallings (Electrolicious) are just a few of the other contributors, and I’m proud to call many of them my friends.

Anyway, my copy of the book just arrived today, in the midst of a chaotic and crazy and busy and stressful week (I leave for Europe tomorrow – aak!) and instantly, the swirling thoughts in my head and the to-do lists and everything else was replaced by me jumping around the office in hysterics. So if you’ll excuse me, I now have some freaking-the-hell out to do.

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As always, Sebastian wants to come too., originally uploaded by Aubs.

Today’s White Whine comes courtesy of the new iPhone 2.1 software, that was reported to fix a ton of issues and bugs (including battery life, which I haven’t seen any improvement with. Grr.) While I appreciate that Apple has addressed a lot of the gripes of us over-entitled iPhoners, I have to raise my own new grievance: SMS Preview settings have changed. Here’s what happened:

OLD SITUATION
There were two options – SMS preview on (which would give you a small snippet of your text message if your phone was both locked or unlocked) or SMS preview off  (which simply showed that you had a new message from, say, Twitter.) Both of these options were only available if you add a passcode, and completely suited my needs. I could see who was texting (and decide to check if I was busy & it was something pertinent or someone I wanted to text with) but I didn’t have to see the exact nature of the message. This latter feature was helpful not only for the 2-second anticipation that came with typing in my passcode and waiting to see what the sender had kindly shared with me, but also saved me the worry of someone inadvertantly seeing something not intended for them. (In short, MYOB, suckers.) Awesome. Useful. Intuitive.

Now, with the 2.1 release, it seems things have changed.

NEW – AND TOTALLY ANNOYING AND UNINTUITIVE – SITUATION
You still have the same options of SMS Preview on (showing the snippet) or off, only now if you have the Preview turned off and your phone is locked, it says "New Text Message" without indicating who it’s from. I find myself waiting on a really important text (read: Happy hour plans!) and instead find myself unlocking my phone only to find it was something un-time sensitive like Twitter or Dodgeball that I only check occasionally. Alternatively, I’m showing a snippet of text that’s meant for me but, given our predilections to rudely keep our cell phones in plain site (often on the table – and I’m totally guilty of this), I’m sharing my biz-natch with everyone. Not that I’ve got anything to hide (Hi, I’m on the internets, life=open book-ish) it’s just more my preference to maintain the little privacy that I have. That, and I’m a totally inappropriate texter, and my friends often respond in kind. (See also: TMI, inuendo, potty-mouthdom.)

My gripe isn’t anything major, it’s just frustrating that the system USED TO WORK. There should be two separate options – SMS Preview (text snippet) and SMS Author (text sender) – that allow you to customize what you see. Because for me, I want my privacy but not at the expense of accepting ambiguity.

Aah, Beijing. Where did I last leave you? Oh, that’s right. In the rain. Let’s continue, shall we?

Thursday night, despite the fact that beach volleyball does even during despite the rain, we opted to stay close to home and have some tasty cajun fries at the newly opened restaurant adjacent to Jessica & Andrew’s apartment, and then go to Q Bar down the street to have TheBestDrinksInTheUniverse™. Apparently, the owners (a husband and wife pair) were known throughout Beiing for their amazing bartending skills, and they opened a bar with one of the best/only patios in the city. Sadly, it was a bit too wet outside to take advantage of it, but we imbibed with Lychee Margaritas that were so good it made me want to lick the glass. (Oh, and you know I did.)

Say what you will about the whole ‘cloud seeding’ controversy, but those Chinese peeps know how to make a gorgeous day. Friday morning was bright & sunny – which is apparently unheard of – and the perfect day to just wander around the Olympic Green after catching 2 badminton semi-final matches. For those of you who think that Badminton is a cop-out sport, YOU. ARE. SO. WRONG. Not only was it super fast-paced, fun to watch, and had the craziest fans, but those gals (and esp. guys) are athletes. With hot bods.

Friday night was, hands down, my favorite (and most fortuitous) night of the whole trip. Andrew, Jessica and I met up with my middle school friend Chris for a scrumptious calorie-filled dinner of meat, meat, and meat (with a side of meat in a hot pot.) We then got passes for the invite-only "Club Bud" party, which was basically this huge wearhouse space turned into a South Beach-esque party replete with a faux ‘pool’ and beach cabanas. You had a choice of Budweiser, Corona, Coke or bottled water, and I know you can easily guess what poison I picked. (Hint: I was bummed they forgot the limes.) Since most of the athletes would get mobbed at public events (uh, duh) they tended to hang at the more exclusive, private ones. And that, my friends, is how I met the Olympic Swimmers. I will not go into detail other than to say the following: Their bodies are even more ripped in person than they look on NBC, and Joe Stump owes me a full night of drinking.

On Saturday morning – bright and early (oy!) – my friend Shaun & I headed back to the Water Cube to catch Phelps’ 100 Butterfly and attempt at his 7th medal. (MANY props to Shaun for the extra pass – also, it’s amazing what an "Olympian" badge will get you. Not only did we go through the fast VIP security line, but also got to cut right to the front. Definitely perks knowing a double gold medalist!) By now, you’ve seen the video, and the 1/100th of a second win. I thought it would be pretty crazy, but was completely and totally unprepared for how emotional I would get over the Gold Medal ceremony. The venue was packed with Chinese fans but everyone was rooting for Phelps that day. Kind of amazing to witness in person.

Later that day, we all headed up to the Tennis Venue and I even got to hang out with my cousin, Adam, who lives in Shanghai and came up for the day to join us! Now, I’ve never seen a tennis match live (and certainly not at this calibre) and while it was amazing (and our seats were front row – HONESTLY, I was blown away) it was also loooonnnnnnggggggggg. Started at 4pm and didn’t end until nearly midnight, after which we got to enjoy Beiing’s finest in public transportation (a bus, a subway, and THEN a taxi. Whee.) Long day, but an awesome way to wrap up a full week of activities.

Headed home Sunday, only to be seated next to the most annoying 7 y/o in the world and once home, realized I wasn’t just tired, but was sick as a dog. (Hi, 103 degree fever.) Thank God for rest, and Cipro, which truly is a magic pill not just for Anthrax, but for Olympics SARS.

All in all, it was the best vacation I’ve ever had, not only because I got to attend these once-in-a-lifetime events (and thanks to Andrew, for free.) I loved loved LOVED getting to hang with my friends, meeting up with ‘friends of friends’ (and new peeps) and basically just experiencing the energy and the vibe that only comes with The Olympics. London 2012 – can’t wait.

Greetings from Beijing! Yes, I have successfully again made it halfway around the world, this time not for work, but a much-needed vacation. When my dear friend Jessica invited me to come out during the Olympics, I didn’t hesitate, but instead booked a flight the very next day. She and her husband Andrew are over here for a year – she’s taken an overseas assignment for Google and he’s working for Coke for the Olympics – so not only did I get to catch up with my awesome pals, but perhaps catch an event or two. Or, as it will be, four. Let’s recap the experience so far, shall we?

After a crazy weekend in Vegas for my friend Brandy’s bachelorette party, I boarded a plane less than 24 hours later en route to Beijing. Pretty uneventful flight – ended up chatting with an NBC Cameraman who has covered the last 4 Olympics and rode on Air Force One, etc. Super interesting guy, and made the flight go way faster. (AND he was gentlemanly enough for me to take over the extra seat between us so I could appropriately crash…thanks, Jon & Ambien!) After landing, realized my friend Jen was on the flight (all high-falootin’ in Biz Class) so was great to catch up with her, albeit briefly. Then made my way into the city to meet up with Jess & Andrew, and we headed out with their friends Susan & Kaz for a yummy Thai dinner (that I think slightly food poisoned us all – oops) and over to the Heinekin Holland House for some party time, excellent.

My new friends Kris & Robert suggested we meet there, and alas, amongst a sea of orange (the dutch are VERY patriotic, what with tulips and orange shirts and, you know, other Dutch stuff galore) we gallivanted and cavorted and saw women with double-strapped fanny packs and the worst bigger-than-lifesize poster I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE and convoluted our bodies into the right side of a tulip and oh! Posed for pictures inside of a windmill cutout. See?

Those Dutch know how to throw a party.

Woke up Wednesday morning bright-eyed, bushy-somethinged and with the requisite sore throat that is your welcoming gift from Beijing, courtesy of the smog. Spent a lazy morning just chilling & uploading photos, and went over to this cool noodle house in a renovated blade factory with Andrew & Kaz for some "Wide Noodle Bowl With Brisket" and "Coca-Cola Light" lunch. (Also had spicy seaweed salad, and in case you were wondering, it’s no match for  my fave wakame.) Later, Andrew & I made our way to the Olympic Green to meet Jess, and start our evening of Olympics-ing.

Not gonna lie – it was pretty surreal to be walking past The Today Show filming live from the Green (and then actually see them broadcast and BE ON TV IN THE CROWD!!!!!) and I was frankly surprised that it wasn’t more packed. There are a few venues on the official green – The Water Cube, Olympic Stadium (which is where the opening & closing ceremonies are, as well as Track & Field – it’s nicknamed The Bird’s Nest) and you actually need a ticket to be able to get on the green. They’re pretty huge about security as well – I had to go through a metal detector and be wanded after getting out of one subway stop & before going into the other one.

All the swimming & diving events are in The Water Cube, which looks a bit ‘meh’ by day, but at night, lights up and changes colors. It’s actually really impressive inside & out, and while I won’t disclose whose seats we sat in to watch the races, I will divulge that this person could buy and sell me probably a few hundred thousand times over. Thankfully for me, THEY were absent and WE were able to ogle the men’s swim team from kickass seats.

While we’re speaking of the US Men’s Swim team, let me first start by saying that I don’t make it a habit to go around ogling men. Sure, I appreciate their uniqueness and their hotness but OH MY DEAR LORD HOLY MOTHER OF CHRIST, these  mens’ bodies are the pinnacle of perfection. Enough to make me turn into one of THOSE GIRLS…you know, the ones that end up going to strip clubs and scream "Take it off!" while simultaneously drowning their sorrows in overpriced well drinks and chain-smoking their way to a life full of trailerpark fun. Their torsos…ok. Must stop now. It’s getting hot in here (and sadly, the swim team isn’t around to take off all their clothes, as the song dictates.)

The races themselves were pretty cool – no medal rounds during the evening event, but did see 2 Olympic Records broken and Michael Phelps basically kick ass and show that he is in a league of his own. Though I didn’t have any (thanks, Thai food, for that upset tummy) I was quite pleased to note that Tsingtao beers were LESS THAN A DOLLAR. (I know I’ve been over-using capitals in this post, but seriously? 75 cents for a brewski? I can get behind that in the same way one of the Olympic swimmers can get behind…ok fine. I’ll stop now.)

The venues are so beautiful at night & there was just a great energy with everyone milling about, taking photos, etc. but again, was surprised that it wasn’t that crowded. Maybe after the track & field events begin.

Today was another lazy morning – did a few hours of work, then went downstairs to this suprisingly swanky spa for a 90-minute massage (that cost me a whopping $30) and made me look like I had a very unfortunate run-in with a Liter of Astroglide. (They also massage ALL OF YOU, which surprised me and made me giggle in anticipation of telling my guy friends which then made me think that the masseuse thought I was getting turned on, so spent a good 10 minutes "Dead Puppies"-ing to get the smirk off my face. In case you wondered.) Right now, we’re supposed to be off to watch beach volleyball, and I’m all ready to get my ogle on, but alas, it’s raining (which is needed, since it’s hot and muggy and smoggy) so they’re delayed or something so not sure what’s next. My cousin – who I probably haven’t seen in 7 years! – who lives in Shanghai arrives tonight for the weekend, and tomorrow Jess and I are watching Badminton (wonder if there’s ogling opportunities there?) and Saturday we’re all off to the Men’s & Women’s Tennis bronze & gold medal rounds, which should be – say it with me – FUCKING AMAZING. I’m jonesing to see Federer & Nadal and the Williams sisters live, who are all four still in the semi-finals, so I’m pretty psyched for the next few days.

Check out all the pics here, but never fear, much more to come from Beijing. Off to get my ogle on.

Last night at dinner (ok, fine – DRINKS) my friend asked what we considered romantic. Without hesitation, I replied: “Surprises. Being thoughtful. Remembering something minor that is important to the other person.” My friends sat there and looked at me like “wow, you really think all that?” Which made me pause: Do I? And the more I’ve actually sat and thought about it, I think if I were asked this question again I would simply reply “making an effort.”

Yes, sometimes it *is* that simple.

Since I was young, my Mom always advised me to play the traditional ‘girl’ role and "let the guys come to [me]". Not bad advice, and actually, more often than not, how I initially proceed in matters of the heart. And yet my guy friends have continually chastised me for being too passive in a relationship, and not telling the guy what I want or making it clear to them that I’m interested. (Note that this is regarding only the public nature of my relationships; what goes on behind closed doors is off the record.) Basically, they accuse me of expecting the guy to read my mind if I’m less than overtly pursuant. So, heeding their advice, now and again I’ve taken their approach and have been more direct, initiating contact and suggesting plans. Every time I do this, it’s literally PAINFUL and feels contrary to everything I know, but let’s face it: my normal MO hasn’t yet chalked up a stellar significant other, so why not shake things up a bit? And so I do, and in this experiment-cum-life that I lead, I find that it’s been met with mixed responses.

Let’s examine this. I don’t consider myself traditional in most of the ‘common’ uses of the word, but when it comes to relationships – however fledgling – I think I am. I’m not a passive person by any means, nor do I lack the confidence to make the first move if I wanted to. But I’m a firm believer in gaming theory (aka, men are the pursuer/women want to be pursued) and any variation from this theory makes me doubtful, at least in determining the relationship in question’s long term potential. Loosely related to this are the theories of “long term relationships don’t start by meeting at a bar” and “nothing lasting begins with sex on the first date” but we all know exceptions to these – and every – rule, so I tend to concentrate on the genetically proven one instead when making this argument.

Basically, there’s something inherently attractive, after all of these years and spanning all of these species, about the thrill of the chase. Yes, eggs are genetically ‘costly ‘and sperm are ‘cheap’ but there’s something more. Deep down, we’re attracted to something that isn’t easy to attain. It implies worth. The easier something is, the less effort one puts forth in attempting to attain it. Add in centuries of  traditional gender roles and we’re left with a society telling women to do one thing (read: be pursuant) yet – more often than not – rewarding them for doing the opposite. Face it – we’re stuck between a progressive rock and an evolutionary hard place.

So where does this leave us? Back to my earlier statement: Romance – to me – is as simple as making an effort. The way I see it is if you like me, you’ll want to spend time with me, plain and simple. Because if I like you, I’ll want to spend time with you. Certainly not every day, but now and again. Probably even often. In brief, I’ll make an effort, and make sure you know I’m interested. I’d hope you’d do the same.

Dating isn’t easy. But it sure isn’t as complicated as we’re all making it.

*With all due respect to Avril Lavigne, as well as everyone who thinks my musical taste has evolved more than this. You’re right, and I apologize. But it fit.