Babble

Last night I had dinner with Muppet and Bambi since Bambi was in town on Spring Break. I hit some kind of wall last night around 5 and just wanted to go home and go to bed. But ended up having a nice night; sitting over diner food and coffee talking about all sorts of things, laughing a lot, lecturing a little and just catching up. I like those dinners. Where everyone gets to talk a lot and no topic is sacred and the next thing you know four hours have gone by. Though we did have to spend a few moments getting on my ass about finding another job. Which was uncomfortable. Because I have NO IDEA what I want to be when I grow up and I have no clue what to do about it. I look into things but it's all just uninspiring.

Tonight I'm packing, painting my toenails and catching up with Vader. Haven't seen her since the slumber party o' doom. Though she may just turn around and leave once she sees my apartment. Words can't describe the catbox and I think I might have a few unwashed dishes from the slumber party laying around. Because I have become the grossest woman alive. Fuck it. I don't care.

Speaking of gross, there was a very, very bad smelling man on the train today. I never know what to do in those situations. I got on and sorta smelled something bad but couldn't figure out who it was. I got a seat soon after and didn't really smell it much after that. But I noticed the woman across from me sorta trying to subtly bury her nose in her collar. And I wondered if maybe it was the guy next to her. And it was. Because at one point he decided to get up and stand and lean against the pole by me and OH MY GOD. The stench was so bad. And I really wanted to cover my face and gag. But that seemed so rude. Who knows why he smells. Maybe it's something he can't help. He seemed nice enough. For a New Yorker on a subway car. But ugh. I suddenly had a lot more sympathy for the uncomfortable looks the woman across the way had on her face earlier. Finally I just faced away from him and hoped he'd get off soon. Which he did.

My rock star life.

Speaking of rock stars... sorta. 3 Doors Down was rowdy on a plane to Cairns last and kept my Daddy from sleeping on his break. Bad, bad band. Keeping the pilot sleepy.

I'm now talking with PimpDaddy about how he's never actually sold me and kinda sucks as a Pimp. But he's the only Pimp for me - as I told BigD earlier today. Maybe I should give PimpDaddy access to post here so he can blog up some support for our little ho empire. And give my father a heart attack in the process. Hmmmmmm...