12.21.2004
How Could He Do This to Me?
My beloved NYC D is turning into a snob. Last week he wrote about getting his glasses fixed…they have to be sent to France. Today I told him about my new pug and got this in return: “Until we get a country house, I'm so glad we don't have to deal with pets.”
I am throwing up a little in my mouth.
I blame his wife.
We also decided to take a hiatus on the phone sex. I think I ruined it for him by admitting that Starbucks turns me off. Executive or not, that is not a row that I cannot "ho." I have standards, people.
In other news, I'm one day closer to moving into the house, and all I've done so far is put my best oyster sauce in a little brown bag. To protect it during the move, natch. I don't think it's anything but sheer laziness - and the wild call of the Puppy - that is keeping me from my task. I really want to move! Here's one more reason - this evening I came home and climbed the second flight of stairs to the blood-curdling cries of the downstairs neighbor's small child being - what? - skinned? I can only imagine. Seconds later the wife/girlfriend comes banging out the front door - with another girl - and apparently escaping the sordid scene that is her Tuesday night. Muy Bien Times! (If anyone recalls, the downstairs neighbor is the perpetrator of the weekend Boom Boom Bass Party. I will miss that, ho ho!)
One day closer to pug, too. And I just got a note from someone at www.lunchboxing.com. I threw in a name for their "Name Our Adopted Pug" contest - small world, right? - and now they want to run a contest to name my pug. Nobody likes Jimmy James except S. God knows my mom didn't like it. She was like, "That name sucks, honey." (I always picture my mother speaking with a really droll drag queen's voice, btw, and my brother paints her in more of a Linda Richman light, so there you go. Poor my mom - she is a lovely human being and not deserving of our mockery. Oh well.) btw: Check out the pug-naming contest: http://www.lunchboxing.com/feat_paws23.shtml
What else? What else? Still scarred by "One Night in China"? Dude...me too. If you click on the photo it blows up big...and can someone please confirm if that girl is a hermaphrodite or what?!? One of the pics seems to show a penis-like addendum coming out of her, um, stuff.
Also: talked to Liz last night (http://allhopeisnotlost.blogspot.com/) about our inability to realize when guys are hitting on us. (I can't tell unless there is a tongue down my throat, a hand on my breast and a neon sign behind his head flashing the words "I really like you!" Oh yes, it's that bad.) We also discussed how we are way hotter than we realize because we transcend mere good-lookingness and have moved into "way more to offer."
Help me. Moving into "having more to offer" mode means I am officially not hot stuff.
Not hot stuff. that's just another reason why I let the Puppy dictate how and where I spend my time. I saw him twice last night and again this afternoon/tonight, and he asked me back for manana. He's cooking dinner. How can I resist? Liz says we're "codependent." Hm.
But tomorrow night could be a real kicker if I spend it on my own. My friend Denver D is in town. She is totally self-absorbed - but also not the sharpest knife in the block - so her self-aggrandizement is more painful than the average narcissist's "I'm so fantabulous" speeches. She blows into town once or twice a year and expects everyone to drop everything and rush to her super-shiny super-fun happy-smile-times side. This time, dammit, I'm going to Just Say No! Especially since I already put in my time in '04 - it was during the summer at a punk-poseur bar. The kind of bar where they're like "We're so punk! We've got The Clash on the jukebox!" but the patrons are mostly fat chicks with tattoos and smallish dudes who drink Red Stripe and talk about high school.
Not so much.
YO - BIMBO - WHAT? YOU'RE IN TOWN TWO DAYS AND NO CALL? WHAT AM I - CHOPPED LIVER? DON'T MAKE ME GO JACKIE MASON ON YOUR ASS!
btw: I have no idea what that means.
xoxo
I am throwing up a little in my mouth.
I blame his wife.
We also decided to take a hiatus on the phone sex. I think I ruined it for him by admitting that Starbucks turns me off. Executive or not, that is not a row that I cannot "ho." I have standards, people.
In other news, I'm one day closer to moving into the house, and all I've done so far is put my best oyster sauce in a little brown bag. To protect it during the move, natch. I don't think it's anything but sheer laziness - and the wild call of the Puppy - that is keeping me from my task. I really want to move! Here's one more reason - this evening I came home and climbed the second flight of stairs to the blood-curdling cries of the downstairs neighbor's small child being - what? - skinned? I can only imagine. Seconds later the wife/girlfriend comes banging out the front door - with another girl - and apparently escaping the sordid scene that is her Tuesday night. Muy Bien Times! (If anyone recalls, the downstairs neighbor is the perpetrator of the weekend Boom Boom Bass Party. I will miss that, ho ho!)
One day closer to pug, too. And I just got a note from someone at www.lunchboxing.com. I threw in a name for their "Name Our Adopted Pug" contest - small world, right? - and now they want to run a contest to name my pug. Nobody likes Jimmy James except S. God knows my mom didn't like it. She was like, "That name sucks, honey." (I always picture my mother speaking with a really droll drag queen's voice, btw, and my brother paints her in more of a Linda Richman light, so there you go. Poor my mom - she is a lovely human being and not deserving of our mockery. Oh well.) btw: Check out the pug-naming contest: http://www.lunchboxing.com/feat_paws23.shtml
What else? What else? Still scarred by "One Night in China"? Dude...me too. If you click on the photo it blows up big...and can someone please confirm if that girl is a hermaphrodite or what?!? One of the pics seems to show a penis-like addendum coming out of her, um, stuff.
Also: talked to Liz last night (http://allhopeisnotlost.blogspot.com/) about our inability to realize when guys are hitting on us. (I can't tell unless there is a tongue down my throat, a hand on my breast and a neon sign behind his head flashing the words "I really like you!" Oh yes, it's that bad.) We also discussed how we are way hotter than we realize because we transcend mere good-lookingness and have moved into "way more to offer."
Help me. Moving into "having more to offer" mode means I am officially not hot stuff.
Not hot stuff. that's just another reason why I let the Puppy dictate how and where I spend my time. I saw him twice last night and again this afternoon/tonight, and he asked me back for manana. He's cooking dinner. How can I resist? Liz says we're "codependent." Hm.
But tomorrow night could be a real kicker if I spend it on my own. My friend Denver D is in town. She is totally self-absorbed - but also not the sharpest knife in the block - so her self-aggrandizement is more painful than the average narcissist's "I'm so fantabulous" speeches. She blows into town once or twice a year and expects everyone to drop everything and rush to her super-shiny super-fun happy-smile-times side. This time, dammit, I'm going to Just Say No! Especially since I already put in my time in '04 - it was during the summer at a punk-poseur bar. The kind of bar where they're like "We're so punk! We've got The Clash on the jukebox!" but the patrons are mostly fat chicks with tattoos and smallish dudes who drink Red Stripe and talk about high school.
Not so much.
YO - BIMBO - WHAT? YOU'RE IN TOWN TWO DAYS AND NO CALL? WHAT AM I - CHOPPED LIVER? DON'T MAKE ME GO JACKIE MASON ON YOUR ASS!
btw: I have no idea what that means.
xoxo
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Um, none. And this wasn't even the blog I did at 2 a.m. I sound cracked out, don't I? That's kind of how I feel right now, too. Too much excitement, too much to do, too many things coming down the pike. It's either blog like a madwoman or implode. I choose blog.
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