Woman Seeking... Actually, I'm all set, thanks.

So no, this isn't dare #2 just yet, but I will admit to being intrigued by my best friend Mel's suggestion that I go on a date with someone from the "Men seeking Women" section of craigslist. Jokes about my safety, well-being and self-esteem aside, I did peruse the listings within this section and decided to pretty much close the book on this dare altogether. Here's why:

1. DOESN'T ANYONE REALIZE THAT NO ONE WANTS TO GO OUT WITH SOMEONE WHO TYPES LIKE THIS THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE POST? IT LOOKS LIKE YOU'RE SCREAMING AT ME!

2. I'm simply not current on all the current dating lingo. What's a SPAM? Or a NSA? Am I better off not knowing?

3. There are a disturbing amount of "older executives" seeking younger no-strings partners, and one posting where a guy admits to being a "busy financier" seeking someone to "keep [him] away from work," which makes me worry more for my dad's investments than the poor girl who answers this ad.

4. Someone's subject line is "Son of SAM."

5. I just don't hate myself enough to do this. Sorry, Mel.

Anyway, I'll be happily accepting more dares, and I'll even consider [safer] variations on this one. So don't be shy kids...but DO type in lower case :).

One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila Floor (or ER bed. Yay!)

Welcome to the Inaugural dare! Yes, I have decided to go with Jeremy's suggestion for the first challenge, if only because I am a masochist.

Jeremy actually wanted to amend this dare to have me doing one shot every hour. After considering this change for a good twenty minutes, we both decided it would be pretty sad if I passed away, and stuck with the original suggestion.

Weapon of choice: Tequila. I'm not much of a drinker, and DEFINITELY do not drink alone, so I've decided to put the housewarming gift I received last year to use.

I've got a new roommate, whom I didn't want to alarm (just yet), so I decided to take the solo-fiesta to my room. Armed with a bottle of Jose Cuervo, a few limes and a shot glass, I began my adventure.

9:30am: First shot, and my body isn't feeling the early-morning party. My mouth and throat burn like they've never burned before, and I can almost hear my stomach growl "why so early, homey?"

11:30am: I wasn't looking forward to numero dos, but this one goes down easy (all together now: that's what she said). My gums are vibrating.

11:35am: Few things are more disgusting than burping up Cuervo.

11:50am: Alcohol is a depressant, right? It's supposed to thunderstorm today, and I suddenly picture myself, five hours from now, drunkenly clutching a cup of green tea, singing Keane songs and weeping by the window. Curse you, Jeremy!

12:15-ish: I make my way out of the house for my first dance with reality. There's a flea market that's opened up not too far from my apartment, and I am in desperate need of a coffee table (somehow, eating dinner on the floor doesn't make me feel bohemian and cool. It just makes me feel poor.) I pass two women on the street, one of whom uses the word "slumgirl" to refer to some dirty broad she obviously hates. My first instinct is to punch her. My second is to let the unfortunate, presumably hygienically-challenged young lady she is talking about run her smelly smelliness all over this woman. I then realize that the fact that I don't act on my first instinct means I'm either a very rational drunk or sober.

This flea market has an "Adults Only!" section!! I didn't know flea markets sold porn. I wonder what discounted porn looks like. Is it just secondhand porn? If it is, would you really want someone else's porn? Sometimes, people are hesitant to buy previously-owned merchandise, since they don't know where it's been. But, with secondhand porn, don't you already know where it's been, and shouldn't that be reason enough to stay away? In any case, let me just say that a massive, shiny, colorful sign covering this section isn't exactly going to be a deterrent for young, curious, illiterate minds. Having not ingested enough booze to check the area out myself (I have often been called a young, curious, illiterate mind), I leave the market table-less, but with my pride still somewhat intact.

1:08pm: The dare-giver himself checks on me and asks for updates on my progress. He then suggests I down the whole bottle in one go, cementing my belief that he wants me dead. Sad face.

1:30pm: Oooo... cozy. This one warms my throat and chest, which is probably not a good thing, but gosh, it feels awful nice. Happy face.

1:52pm: Whoa... I think it's starting to hit me. That, or I normally walk into walls.

Wait. Forget it, I'm fine.

3:30pm: I down #4 to the tune of Andrew W.K. I guess I should want to throw a folding chair, but I'm kind of just in the mood for a sandwich. And a friend. Man, I am a walking anti-alcohol ad right now if there ever was one.

3:34pm: An hour ago, I announced that I was going to go for a walk. And by walk, I apparently meant nap.

3:35pm: I've got iTunes on shuffle, and Keane's "Bend and Break" pops up just as the clouds roll in. Maybe tequila makes me clairvoyant?

5:40pm: This one comes ten minutes late because I sort of forgot about the dare. My dad called about 20 minutes ago, and I held my breath while he debated whether or not to come over and say hello. Fortunately, he decides his time would be better spent at Stop & Shop. I guess I should be offended, but I'm still thinking about that sandwich.

6:15pm: A friend calls with some unfortunate news that has nothing to do with me, yet I'm very outraged and very loud. Am I usually this loud? My parents are always unnecessarily loud on the phone. Do I turn into my father when I drink? Or does my dad just lose his hearing after one Johnnie Walker too many?

7:30pm: My stomach is starting to revolt. I think it just flipped me off for chasing a healthy dinner of chicken and vegetables with tequila.

7:40pm: I'm just starting to really feel the effects of this day of boozing. I'm on the phone with my sister bickering about something called the Aristocats, and even though I know nothing about these fancy felines, I get very passionately angry while defending my argument, whatever that argument is.

7:45pm:

I watch this video four times in a row, which confirms it has finally hit me, and hard.

8:06pm:

Then I watch this.

8:13pm: I'm tired............

____________________________________________________________________

Shortly after that last log, I fell into a deep, deep sleep, and woke up at 9 this morning, just in time for The Doctors (a show I definitely needed to watch after yesterday's events). I felt fine, just a little more tired than usual.

So would I do it again? Um, probably not on purpose. Health risks aside, it's very difficult for me to remember to do anything every two hours. Also, I tend to spill things on myself quite a bit in my everyday life, and spilling tequila means smelling like tequila, which isn't a very inviting scent. Lastly, I'm not enough of a drinker to enjoy pounding back shot after shot, particularly alone. Raging alcoholics, I know not how you do this.

Anyway, let's move on, shall we? I'm thinking of trying out Darren's dare next (scroll down to see it), unless someone else has a better suggestion. Keep the comments and the love coming!

New Beginnings....

No, I am not a punk.

Yes, I am a little bit lazy.

Anyway, readers, I've come to the decision that Sybil, Disobedient should simply have a home of its own. Worry not, though, kids-- Shibow will still happily be complaining in posts for the folks over at AAVRmag. This particular venture just needed a little room to grow. So here's what we're going to do:

For now, the rooftop extravaganza will be put on hold. Sorry Jay, logistically now is simply not the best time to be rotisseried on top of your building. It will happen, though. Brown girl's honor.

In addition, I've decided to change things up a bit: already-suggested dares will be listed below, and I will select one at random each week. Please feel free to keep daring, though. I'm always fielding new requests :).

Here is a list of all dares previously suggested by a few loons I happen to know:

1. Jay Patel (already chosen, and on hold for the time being, but here for your amusement) :

I dare you to live on the roof of my building for a weekend. Friday night to Sunday mid day.

1655 Union Street
Brooklyn, NY 11213

You must stay on the roof rain or shine. (I will give you 10 bathroom passes for 10 minutes each, no showering or brushing)

2. Darren Barany (my cousin, who obviously hates me a little bit):

This was from shibow’s fb page…she tried to doge this one, but here it is:

I dare you to rent some roller skates and go to the band shell in central park, and rock some roller disco all amateur style with the regulars. THAT would make for a great article…not to mention the visuals would be amazing. A red, white, and blue headband would be a must.

I think you’d become a regular by the end of the session. They’re there in full regalia on Saturdays and Sundays in the afternoon.

Good luck, and may the force be with you.

3. Grace:

Sybil, I dare you to do a stand up comedy act.

4. Jeremy (my friend, who obviously loves me a little bit)

i dare you to… take a shot of alchy every 2 hours for a whole day. from the time you wake up to the time you go to sleep. choose a day that’s somewhat busy and don’t punk out with a day that u stay at home all day.

this is pretty much an easy one that you can probably do right away… because it doesn’t require much planning. and plus, it’ll set you up for a fun and happy day. you alchy. HAH.

more to come, and since there’s NO LIMIT to how many dares you have to do, the possibilities are endless.

5. Sylvapotamus:

I dare you to dress up as a clown and ride around town in your bicycle

I’ll come up with a better one as soon as I think of it
;]

6. Helen Huang:

I dare you to plant something in a public park! Tomatoes or something...
or
Give 20 strangers hugs within a week and document it..
or
Get into Improv!

7. Mel:

I dare you to go on a date with someone from the personals section on craigs list, Justin's* choice of course.

Now, as most of you can probably already tell, I'm leaning towards Jeremy's dare. No, I am certainly not a lush, but I am a bit curious as to how this one will affect me. Thoughts?

Anyway, thanks to everyone who's gotten into the spirit of this crazy idea. Please keep up the comments/suggestions. 'Til next time, cub scouts.

* Justin would set me up with Bobby Brown if he could. I think we may need to tweak this part of the dare slightly, if it is chosen.