So, over the past few years my mother has been working on a kind of archiving project. I think it started a few years ago with old journals from great-grandparents and grandparents and such. She's just been typing in journals, scanning documents, scanning photographs and all kinds of things. I've been getting some fun CDs out of it with family photos. And for Christmas I got a CD of 1800 photos of Amanda. Heh. I have a sign up list for copies. But it might be a while. I'm lazy.
Lately she's found some old calendars that she used to use as daily journals of sorts. Which is where the toilet training thing came from earlier today. And tonight she told me a tale of when I was two. Apparently I was in a bit of an argument with a friend, got frustrated and bit her. So she pushed me in the pool. It seems I bit people a lot. I even had a spot. I liked biting on the forearm. I worry about me sometimes. I do.
Monday, July 26, 2004
Muffalicious
Saw lots of Muffy this weekend.
(Yes, Turnip, I know you are waiting on Part II of the LA entry, but I'm so behind on weekend fun entries - LA, Boston, Lesbian Pagan Wedding - that I just can't get further behind. So I'm going to blab about weekends and regular things and just catch up on the big trip entries as best I can. Of course, you could write the rest of the LA blogs. Don't y'all want to see what Turnip has to say?)
I dragged her out to an IT work party Friday night. One of our floor support guys got a bit of a promotion (no additional money yet) and Friday was his last day. So drinks at Lincoln Park Grill. At first she tried to beg out of it because she didn't want to drink with Economists. I totally can't blame her, but these weren't Economist geeks, these were IT geeks. Totally different breed. But there are some similarities. We actually had fun. Well, I did. And she seemed to be having fun. She, Sheena and I were the only girls and only non-IT folks. Lots of testosterone going on and lots of butt grabbing and nipple tweaking for reasons I couldn't quite understand. None of our butts were grabbed or nipples tweaked though. And I even was wearing a breasty shirt and didn't get scoped by anyone other than Muffy. Which doesn't do me a whole lotta good.
Then this one annoying guy got more vocal and more annoying and we decided to bolt. He was going on about how it's gayer to take it than give it. So offensive and dumb. Muffy missed that while on a pre-subway potty break. And I apparently missed an offensive and dumb blow-job joke while on my own pre-subway potty break. Lovely eh?
So we trained home, got caught in a monsoon on the walk to my place and then ended up just scrapping the umbrellas and dancing in the rain on the way back to her place. And it was pretty awesome. Some strange guy on the street thought it was excellent and told us it was a date we'd always remember. We weren't sure if he thought we were on a date or if he meant it would just be a day we'd always remember. Anyway, we got home, dried off a little and changed a little just in time for Steph to come home from studying to have missed it all. Heh. He was tired and grumpy and eating dinner. He went off to study and sleep while we watched 9 to 5 and were in Heaven. Well, I was in heaven. Muffy kept wondering if Mr. Hart was going to get his in the end and all.
Saturday Muffy and I wandered around Red Hook going off for a lovely little walk. We explored the area down by the water where they're trying to fancy things up and had a good time. I also learned that not only does Muffy have a bit of a bridge fetish but she digs tunnels and toll plazas too. Interesting woman. It was nice. But exhausting. And yet necessary after the vodka and pizza and fries from the night before. Ugh.
Then it was showering and vegging in front of Celebrity Poker Showdown before adventuring out with Muffy and Steph to Crave, a place we haven't yet been to in the 'hood. Muffy got all pretty for us, which was sweet. I did not do the same because I'm a lazy bum. Dinner was good though they kept being out of things we really wanted like the corn soup and fried bananas for me and the eel flan for the duck breast for Steph. Alas. We skipped dessert there and headed to Sweet Melissa's for dessert items. Then off to their place for games. They tried to teach me this dice game a friend taught them. It's called Mexico and it's all about the lying. I didn't love it like they did. I think whiskey helps with the loving. So we played inappropriate Hello Kitty Uno instead. I won. Because I am awesome. Good times.
Sunday I was a slug. And I loved it. But tonight I must pay the price by coming home to an icky apartment.
(Yes, Turnip, I know you are waiting on Part II of the LA entry, but I'm so behind on weekend fun entries - LA, Boston, Lesbian Pagan Wedding - that I just can't get further behind. So I'm going to blab about weekends and regular things and just catch up on the big trip entries as best I can. Of course, you could write the rest of the LA blogs. Don't y'all want to see what Turnip has to say?)
I dragged her out to an IT work party Friday night. One of our floor support guys got a bit of a promotion (no additional money yet) and Friday was his last day. So drinks at Lincoln Park Grill. At first she tried to beg out of it because she didn't want to drink with Economists. I totally can't blame her, but these weren't Economist geeks, these were IT geeks. Totally different breed. But there are some similarities. We actually had fun. Well, I did. And she seemed to be having fun. She, Sheena and I were the only girls and only non-IT folks. Lots of testosterone going on and lots of butt grabbing and nipple tweaking for reasons I couldn't quite understand. None of our butts were grabbed or nipples tweaked though. And I even was wearing a breasty shirt and didn't get scoped by anyone other than Muffy. Which doesn't do me a whole lotta good.
Then this one annoying guy got more vocal and more annoying and we decided to bolt. He was going on about how it's gayer to take it than give it. So offensive and dumb. Muffy missed that while on a pre-subway potty break. And I apparently missed an offensive and dumb blow-job joke while on my own pre-subway potty break. Lovely eh?
So we trained home, got caught in a monsoon on the walk to my place and then ended up just scrapping the umbrellas and dancing in the rain on the way back to her place. And it was pretty awesome. Some strange guy on the street thought it was excellent and told us it was a date we'd always remember. We weren't sure if he thought we were on a date or if he meant it would just be a day we'd always remember. Anyway, we got home, dried off a little and changed a little just in time for Steph to come home from studying to have missed it all. Heh. He was tired and grumpy and eating dinner. He went off to study and sleep while we watched 9 to 5 and were in Heaven. Well, I was in heaven. Muffy kept wondering if Mr. Hart was going to get his in the end and all.
Saturday Muffy and I wandered around Red Hook going off for a lovely little walk. We explored the area down by the water where they're trying to fancy things up and had a good time. I also learned that not only does Muffy have a bit of a bridge fetish but she digs tunnels and toll plazas too. Interesting woman. It was nice. But exhausting. And yet necessary after the vodka and pizza and fries from the night before. Ugh.
Then it was showering and vegging in front of Celebrity Poker Showdown before adventuring out with Muffy and Steph to Crave, a place we haven't yet been to in the 'hood. Muffy got all pretty for us, which was sweet. I did not do the same because I'm a lazy bum. Dinner was good though they kept being out of things we really wanted like the corn soup and fried bananas for me and the eel flan for the duck breast for Steph. Alas. We skipped dessert there and headed to Sweet Melissa's for dessert items. Then off to their place for games. They tried to teach me this dice game a friend taught them. It's called Mexico and it's all about the lying. I didn't love it like they did. I think whiskey helps with the loving. So we played inappropriate Hello Kitty Uno instead. I won. Because I am awesome. Good times.
Sunday I was a slug. And I loved it. But tonight I must pay the price by coming home to an icky apartment.
Conversation with Mom
Mom: Did you know that you were potty trained on Feb 27, 1976?
Amanda: I did not know that.
Amanda: It just took me one day?
Mom: Yup. I used a book called Toilet Training in less than a day! And it worked. At 20 months. You are such an over-achiever!
Amanda: Uh-huh. Such a brainiac, that's me
Amanda: I did not know that.
Amanda: It just took me one day?
Mom: Yup. I used a book called Toilet Training in less than a day! And it worked. At 20 months. You are such an over-achiever!
Amanda: Uh-huh. Such a brainiac, that's me
Latest Blog Search
This weekend someone popped in here searching for 'chicas in thong'. Yes, thong and not thongs. Chicas in thong. The hell? I don't know. I just don't know.
Fucking Fuzzy Happy Bunny Flowers DAMMIT!!!!!!!!!
So, last night I stayed up until 2AM watching Center Stage for no real reason. Just because it's the second greatest movie of 2000. Then this morning I was listening to the soundtrack on my iPod on the way to work. And I was having a little Center Stage dance-off in my head. Seriously. Am I as weird as I think I am? I fear I might be. Is it okay to be this strange? I totally won the dance-off, by the way. And apparently I can now do cool back bend things in my own mind. And I was wearing a darling outfit. And weighed about 120 pounds less than I do outside of my mind. Heh. Now I'm listening to Disney Mania 1. Yes, yes I am. Bite me. Christina Aguilera is singing Reflection now. Just so you know.
Fun Quote from Turnip - "You are assuming there are straight male dancers. I think they are like the unicorn, a lovely fantasy."
Fucking Fuzzy Happy Bunny Flowers DAMMIT!!!!!!!!!
So, last night I stayed up until 2AM watching Center Stage for no real reason. Just because it's the second greatest movie of 2000. Then this morning I was listening to the soundtrack on my iPod on the way to work. And I was having a little Center Stage dance-off in my head. Seriously. Am I as weird as I think I am? I fear I might be. Is it okay to be this strange? I totally won the dance-off, by the way. And apparently I can now do cool back bend things in my own mind. And I was wearing a darling outfit. And weighed about 120 pounds less than I do outside of my mind. Heh. Now I'm listening to Disney Mania 1. Yes, yes I am. Bite me. Christina Aguilera is singing Reflection now. Just so you know.
Fun Quote from Turnip - "You are assuming there are straight male dancers. I think they are like the unicorn, a lovely fantasy."
Friday, July 23, 2004
I Don’t Actually Hate LA (Part I)
Getting to LA was not a fun time. But being in LA was awesome. Lots of delays for my flight out Friday night. I was getting very cranky and Turnip can back this up. Because I was on the phone harassing her about it as much as possible. I think I upset some of the folks around me while demanding hookers and blow for my troubles. Ah well. A very delayed flight, shitty seat partner and FOUR screaming children, really loud men behind me, and Havana Nights as my in flight movie option late at night just puts me in a bad mood. What can I say? I think hookers & blow isn’t too much to ask for all my pain and suffering. And I actually WATCHED Havana Nights. So bad. Not even decent eye candy really. They even dowdied up Sela Ward a little. Which is wrong. She’s so pretty.
Sadly Turnip did not have any trashy goodies for me upon my arrival. She did pick me up at the airport though and had flowers and a Powerpuff Girls balloon for me because she is the cutest, sweetest thing ever. Sadly I left them there when I went back to New York. I keep waiting for her to deflate the balloon and mail it to me, but it hasn’t happened yet.
We found parking far from her home and trudged off with my luggage, stopping to check out the massive, brightly-lit Jesus statue behind her building. Apparently she lives right next to a monastery. All kinds of wrong with that, but she likes the place so what can I say. We plotted a little about how to get Ed’s Shirt on the Jesus and headed into her place. A quick hello to the kitties and some girly gossip and then off to sleep. Wild times - ba-by. But what can you do without hookers and blow? Really?
Saturday we slept in a little and then were up to shower and get pretty. Because we like to be pretty. Don’t judge us. Then Turnip made me go out in the middle of her street. She wouldn’t tell me why and I was a little suspicious. I didn’t think I was that much of a pain the night before but I really did wonder if she was trying to get me hit by a car. Turns out she lives on one of the streets the tourists hit for a good view of the Hollywood sign. Woo. So we checked that baby out and got some photos (which might make it online someday). Then headed for breakfast at a diner type place. I was warned not to order bagels. Like I even needed that bit of advice. Actually, over the course of the weekend people kept telling me that there WERE good bagels in LA and listing all sorts of places to get them. Whatever. I did NOT eat bagels in LA. Sorry.
After we were pretty and well-fed we went to hit the shops on Melrose. I think Turnip thinks if I don’t purchase a pair of shoes while visiting her I won’t come back. She’s wrong, but don’t tell her. I really dig the shoe shopping. And we did both find an adorable pair of red shoes. Luckily they had two pair. Yay. So we got those and matching purses for Vegas. Purses that matched each other. They don’t match the shoes. The shoes are red and the purses are black and pink. Got one for Pumpkin as well. Muffy can stand off to the side rolling her eyes and stuff. Or borrow one of Turnip or Pumpkin’s purses since they all share the same first initial. They only had two of that initial. My bag has an M on it for Manda. They didn’t have any As. What’s a girl to do. I also got two other purses while Turnip only got one. And this was all in the first freakin’ store. More shopping - mostly of the window variety after that. Bought a lot of cheap fabulous jewelry at one place with a friendly guy. He was also from Brooklyn and gave me a very pretty bag for all my stuff. Bitter Turnip was jealous. Heh. Take that LA Girl!
Um, sorry.
We also searched high and low for a yellow outfit for Tangerine’s upcoming wedding. It’s a pagan wedding. I’m East. I have to wear yellow. We had very poor luck. We did see a yellow petticoat thing we almost got, but then thought it might be frowned upon. It was really sheer and I thought it might be a little too small. We did find a lot of yellow shoes though. But not yellow clothes. Odd. Then we had drinks at the Coffee Bean (my first Coffee Bean ever) and let Ed’s Shirt out for a photo. Eventually we had to stop to make Turnip’s show. I was sad to leave the shopping. But it had to be done.
Turnip is a sassy lighting designer. We did lots of shows together in high school. It’s really how we met. And we went to college fairly near each other (Wesleyan and Brown) but I somehow had never seen one of the shows she designed. Which is tragic and wrong. I’ve seen photos of shows she’s done. But that’s not the same thing. Really. So I was very excited at the prospect of finally seeing her work this weekend.
We headed to CSU Los Angeles and kinda wandered around the theatre. Turnip introduced me to everyone, showed me around, dragged me to the booth and then sat me down while she had to boss people around. Basically she got stuck stage managing the show so she had to tell the running crew what to do. One of them was named Amanda which made me batty. She’d get this authoritative tone going and bellow for “Amanda” and I’d be all, “yes ma’am, what?”. Apparently I’m Manda and the running crew gal was Amanda. How silly of me not to know that. So there was bossing and sitting and Chinese food and whatnot. Then I was sent out to listen to one of the more inane conversations of my life. Well, I was sent out to sit in the audience and watch the show. The eavesdropping was a little bonus.
The pair behind me were reading the program and trying to figure out what pieces their friend was in. The whole company was in everything except one piece which only showcased the choreographer/leader. They didn’t really seem to grasp this until the show was over. Then the woman kept explaining to the man that premiere meant ‘first time, first, premiere, first time, this is the first time they’re doing this, it’s the first, because premiere means first’. Ugh. Seriously, this went on for like a minute or two. So unnecessary. These were college students. Come on. Then they started discussing the Chronicles of Riddick - a movie I have not seen. It was pretty sad film commentary at first, but whatever. Then the woman said there wasn’t enough Judy in it. (And I know her name is Judi but you just KNOW this girl was thinking Judy in her mind, she was!) She thought there would be more Judy from the previews. And the guy went along with it for a minute but finally had to ask who Judy was. She said; “You know, from James Bond?” I wept. And text messaged Turnip all about my pain. And wept some more. Brilliant, beautiful, gifted actress whose career can apparently be summed up with, “You know, from James Bond?” Judi, I am so sorry.
Anyway. The show was okay. I’m not a fan of modern dance. There were moments here and there that I kinda liked, but I did not like the show overall. I found myself thinking about it all too much. In the second piece there was a piece of the set that never got used and that threw me off. And then there was one piece with topless girls. But you couldn’t really tell they were topless. So it wasn’t really much of a statement or costuming choice. And all the dancers kept throwing themselves to the ground. Every now and then there would be a beautifully executed move, but more often there wasn’t. I don’t know. I’m not a dance critic. But Turnip’s lights were lovely. So go Turnip. I’m really glad I got to see it. Now she’s got to bring that one show with the hot boys in it to New York so I can see more of her lighting. And, um, the hot boys.
Then it was strike. And I even got to help a little bit. Not that I think I really saved us any time or anything but it was better than sitting in the green room feeling useless. The dancers were all very nice and kept asking me about New York. And I got to meet some of the folks I’d heard stories about. Heh. But mostly I just wanted to get out of there to begin the drinking. Which we did. Eventually.
Turnip took me to the Cat & Fiddle which is apparently her version of the Stoned Crow. This was my second time there in as many trips to LA. It’s not a bad place. Decent drinks and fries and a large patio area. It was packed when we got there so we grabbed drinks at the bar then wandered back out to get a table on the patio. I hadn’t eaten and wanted dinner. Turnip’s friend GhettoBoy showed up and not long after my friend BeerGuy showed up. Then more people kept coming in. Lots of friends of Turnip’s that I didn’t get to chat with. Ponytail and Goofy did wear Ed’s Shirt though. As well as GhettoBoy. Mostly I ate my veggie burger, drank my vodka tonics and chatted with BeerGuy, GhettoBoy and Turnip. And it was a lovely, lovely night. We finally left at about 2 when they kicked us out. Because LA SUCKS that way. Of course New York might start to suck that way if Bloomberg has anything to say about it. SUCKS!!!! Um, yeah. So… Then Turnip and I headed home to giggle, play with the kitties and eventually get to sleep. We had a big day head of us. Heh. Hee hee hee hee hee hee hee.
Sadly Turnip did not have any trashy goodies for me upon my arrival. She did pick me up at the airport though and had flowers and a Powerpuff Girls balloon for me because she is the cutest, sweetest thing ever. Sadly I left them there when I went back to New York. I keep waiting for her to deflate the balloon and mail it to me, but it hasn’t happened yet.
We found parking far from her home and trudged off with my luggage, stopping to check out the massive, brightly-lit Jesus statue behind her building. Apparently she lives right next to a monastery. All kinds of wrong with that, but she likes the place so what can I say. We plotted a little about how to get Ed’s Shirt on the Jesus and headed into her place. A quick hello to the kitties and some girly gossip and then off to sleep. Wild times - ba-by. But what can you do without hookers and blow? Really?
Saturday we slept in a little and then were up to shower and get pretty. Because we like to be pretty. Don’t judge us. Then Turnip made me go out in the middle of her street. She wouldn’t tell me why and I was a little suspicious. I didn’t think I was that much of a pain the night before but I really did wonder if she was trying to get me hit by a car. Turns out she lives on one of the streets the tourists hit for a good view of the Hollywood sign. Woo. So we checked that baby out and got some photos (which might make it online someday). Then headed for breakfast at a diner type place. I was warned not to order bagels. Like I even needed that bit of advice. Actually, over the course of the weekend people kept telling me that there WERE good bagels in LA and listing all sorts of places to get them. Whatever. I did NOT eat bagels in LA. Sorry.
After we were pretty and well-fed we went to hit the shops on Melrose. I think Turnip thinks if I don’t purchase a pair of shoes while visiting her I won’t come back. She’s wrong, but don’t tell her. I really dig the shoe shopping. And we did both find an adorable pair of red shoes. Luckily they had two pair. Yay. So we got those and matching purses for Vegas. Purses that matched each other. They don’t match the shoes. The shoes are red and the purses are black and pink. Got one for Pumpkin as well. Muffy can stand off to the side rolling her eyes and stuff. Or borrow one of Turnip or Pumpkin’s purses since they all share the same first initial. They only had two of that initial. My bag has an M on it for Manda. They didn’t have any As. What’s a girl to do. I also got two other purses while Turnip only got one. And this was all in the first freakin’ store. More shopping - mostly of the window variety after that. Bought a lot of cheap fabulous jewelry at one place with a friendly guy. He was also from Brooklyn and gave me a very pretty bag for all my stuff. Bitter Turnip was jealous. Heh. Take that LA Girl!
Um, sorry.
We also searched high and low for a yellow outfit for Tangerine’s upcoming wedding. It’s a pagan wedding. I’m East. I have to wear yellow. We had very poor luck. We did see a yellow petticoat thing we almost got, but then thought it might be frowned upon. It was really sheer and I thought it might be a little too small. We did find a lot of yellow shoes though. But not yellow clothes. Odd. Then we had drinks at the Coffee Bean (my first Coffee Bean ever) and let Ed’s Shirt out for a photo. Eventually we had to stop to make Turnip’s show. I was sad to leave the shopping. But it had to be done.
Turnip is a sassy lighting designer. We did lots of shows together in high school. It’s really how we met. And we went to college fairly near each other (Wesleyan and Brown) but I somehow had never seen one of the shows she designed. Which is tragic and wrong. I’ve seen photos of shows she’s done. But that’s not the same thing. Really. So I was very excited at the prospect of finally seeing her work this weekend.
We headed to CSU Los Angeles and kinda wandered around the theatre. Turnip introduced me to everyone, showed me around, dragged me to the booth and then sat me down while she had to boss people around. Basically she got stuck stage managing the show so she had to tell the running crew what to do. One of them was named Amanda which made me batty. She’d get this authoritative tone going and bellow for “Amanda” and I’d be all, “yes ma’am, what?”. Apparently I’m Manda and the running crew gal was Amanda. How silly of me not to know that. So there was bossing and sitting and Chinese food and whatnot. Then I was sent out to listen to one of the more inane conversations of my life. Well, I was sent out to sit in the audience and watch the show. The eavesdropping was a little bonus.
The pair behind me were reading the program and trying to figure out what pieces their friend was in. The whole company was in everything except one piece which only showcased the choreographer/leader. They didn’t really seem to grasp this until the show was over. Then the woman kept explaining to the man that premiere meant ‘first time, first, premiere, first time, this is the first time they’re doing this, it’s the first, because premiere means first’. Ugh. Seriously, this went on for like a minute or two. So unnecessary. These were college students. Come on. Then they started discussing the Chronicles of Riddick - a movie I have not seen. It was pretty sad film commentary at first, but whatever. Then the woman said there wasn’t enough Judy in it. (And I know her name is Judi but you just KNOW this girl was thinking Judy in her mind, she was!) She thought there would be more Judy from the previews. And the guy went along with it for a minute but finally had to ask who Judy was. She said; “You know, from James Bond?” I wept. And text messaged Turnip all about my pain. And wept some more. Brilliant, beautiful, gifted actress whose career can apparently be summed up with, “You know, from James Bond?” Judi, I am so sorry.
Anyway. The show was okay. I’m not a fan of modern dance. There were moments here and there that I kinda liked, but I did not like the show overall. I found myself thinking about it all too much. In the second piece there was a piece of the set that never got used and that threw me off. And then there was one piece with topless girls. But you couldn’t really tell they were topless. So it wasn’t really much of a statement or costuming choice. And all the dancers kept throwing themselves to the ground. Every now and then there would be a beautifully executed move, but more often there wasn’t. I don’t know. I’m not a dance critic. But Turnip’s lights were lovely. So go Turnip. I’m really glad I got to see it. Now she’s got to bring that one show with the hot boys in it to New York so I can see more of her lighting. And, um, the hot boys.
Then it was strike. And I even got to help a little bit. Not that I think I really saved us any time or anything but it was better than sitting in the green room feeling useless. The dancers were all very nice and kept asking me about New York. And I got to meet some of the folks I’d heard stories about. Heh. But mostly I just wanted to get out of there to begin the drinking. Which we did. Eventually.
Turnip took me to the Cat & Fiddle which is apparently her version of the Stoned Crow. This was my second time there in as many trips to LA. It’s not a bad place. Decent drinks and fries and a large patio area. It was packed when we got there so we grabbed drinks at the bar then wandered back out to get a table on the patio. I hadn’t eaten and wanted dinner. Turnip’s friend GhettoBoy showed up and not long after my friend BeerGuy showed up. Then more people kept coming in. Lots of friends of Turnip’s that I didn’t get to chat with. Ponytail and Goofy did wear Ed’s Shirt though. As well as GhettoBoy. Mostly I ate my veggie burger, drank my vodka tonics and chatted with BeerGuy, GhettoBoy and Turnip. And it was a lovely, lovely night. We finally left at about 2 when they kicked us out. Because LA SUCKS that way. Of course New York might start to suck that way if Bloomberg has anything to say about it. SUCKS!!!! Um, yeah. So… Then Turnip and I headed home to giggle, play with the kitties and eventually get to sleep. We had a big day head of us. Heh. Hee hee hee hee hee hee hee.
Oh. My. God.
Someone found my blog by looking for 'thirty birthday spinster'. I am distraught. DISTRAUGHT!!!!! I am an old hag!!!! I must drink. Now. Soon. Maybe.
Also, someone from freshdirect popped onto my blog while searching for www.freshdirect.com. Do you think they'll ask me to quit linking to them from my dirty, spinstery blog? Oh my god, I'm a dirty old spinster. Ew. I am so gross I can't even talk to me anymore.
Thirty Birthday Spinster. Kill me. Muffy and Rugby will be forced to watch me sob into my cheap beer tonight as well as all the IT folks from work. Because I am Distraught!!!!
Maybe I should just give up on my stats? This can't be healthy for me.
Also, someone from freshdirect popped onto my blog while searching for www.freshdirect.com. Do you think they'll ask me to quit linking to them from my dirty, spinstery blog? Oh my god, I'm a dirty old spinster. Ew. I am so gross I can't even talk to me anymore.
Thirty Birthday Spinster. Kill me. Muffy and Rugby will be forced to watch me sob into my cheap beer tonight as well as all the IT folks from work. Because I am Distraught!!!!
Maybe I should just give up on my stats? This can't be healthy for me.
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
Actual Advice!!! - The Thank You Note
Okay, someone actually came to my blog from a search for "thank you notes for houseguests". I cannot tell you how happy that makes me. It's even better than someone finding this blog using "happy fuzzy bunny puppies". Because I love the thank you note. I do.
I used to hate the thank you note. It was something my mother made me do every June and December and it made me sad. I would get a day or so of leeway and then I was locked in my room after every birthday and Christmas until the damn notes were done. But eventually I figured out that the thank you note is a glorious thing and everyone should write them. A little bit of advice; if you're asking yourself if you should write one or not, you should do it. In fact, you should probably start asking yourself that question more often than not.
A thank you note lets a gift giver know that their gift arrived. Sometimes things don't make it where they're supposed to make it. It happens. A thank you note puts someone's mind at ease about that. It's also just a really nice thing to do. Someone who gives you a gift to celebrate your birth or their love for you or a milestone should be told just how much you appreciate that. If someone opens their home to you and gives you food and clean towels and warmth and hospitality they deserve a pretty little note that tells them that they rock. It's the nice thing to do.
If someone gives you a gift in person then a verbal thank you at that time usually suffices. But if it's a grandparent they still deserve a note after the fact. Because they're your grandparents and they adore you and they love thank you notes. I'm 30 and I think my thank you notes still get put on the fridge in my grandmothers' homes. Also, if it's someone who lives far away or someone you don't see very often they should probably get a verbal thank you at the time of the good deed/gift and then a mailed thank you later.
Spanky had us all out to her family's 'summer home' one weekend. It was awesome. Her parents put up with us for a weekend and her Mom even treated us to a fish fry. So when my friends and I got back I insisted on writing a thank you note and making them sign it. Her mother was apparently thrilled beyond reason and declared me to have been 'raised right'. I love that story. I had a wonderful time at their house and they were good to us and I'm so happy that me letting her know that made her so happy. You know?
And a late thank you note is better than none at all so don't think you can procrastinate until you don't have to write one anymore. Doesn't work like that. Write the dam note. Now.
Thank you notes are easy too. There's even a bit of a formula to it. Thank the person for the gift or kind act. Talk about what you plan to do with the gift or how nice it is or how much the kind act meant to you. Put in a little about the event that prompted the gift or act. Put in a little bit more about you and what you're up to if you have room and then wish the gift giver/do gooder well. Thank them again. Sign off. See, totally easy. You can do it! As can I. I owe a couple right now. I've inspired myself to finish them all!
I used to hate the thank you note. It was something my mother made me do every June and December and it made me sad. I would get a day or so of leeway and then I was locked in my room after every birthday and Christmas until the damn notes were done. But eventually I figured out that the thank you note is a glorious thing and everyone should write them. A little bit of advice; if you're asking yourself if you should write one or not, you should do it. In fact, you should probably start asking yourself that question more often than not.
A thank you note lets a gift giver know that their gift arrived. Sometimes things don't make it where they're supposed to make it. It happens. A thank you note puts someone's mind at ease about that. It's also just a really nice thing to do. Someone who gives you a gift to celebrate your birth or their love for you or a milestone should be told just how much you appreciate that. If someone opens their home to you and gives you food and clean towels and warmth and hospitality they deserve a pretty little note that tells them that they rock. It's the nice thing to do.
If someone gives you a gift in person then a verbal thank you at that time usually suffices. But if it's a grandparent they still deserve a note after the fact. Because they're your grandparents and they adore you and they love thank you notes. I'm 30 and I think my thank you notes still get put on the fridge in my grandmothers' homes. Also, if it's someone who lives far away or someone you don't see very often they should probably get a verbal thank you at the time of the good deed/gift and then a mailed thank you later.
Spanky had us all out to her family's 'summer home' one weekend. It was awesome. Her parents put up with us for a weekend and her Mom even treated us to a fish fry. So when my friends and I got back I insisted on writing a thank you note and making them sign it. Her mother was apparently thrilled beyond reason and declared me to have been 'raised right'. I love that story. I had a wonderful time at their house and they were good to us and I'm so happy that me letting her know that made her so happy. You know?
And a late thank you note is better than none at all so don't think you can procrastinate until you don't have to write one anymore. Doesn't work like that. Write the dam note. Now.
Thank you notes are easy too. There's even a bit of a formula to it. Thank the person for the gift or kind act. Talk about what you plan to do with the gift or how nice it is or how much the kind act meant to you. Put in a little about the event that prompted the gift or act. Put in a little bit more about you and what you're up to if you have room and then wish the gift giver/do gooder well. Thank them again. Sign off. See, totally easy. You can do it! As can I. I owe a couple right now. I've inspired myself to finish them all!
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
A Visit With Dad
So, after Birthday Week came a day free of stuff. Then Dad arrived. Arrival Day has already been blogged about.
On Day Two, we apparently had a bit of a date night. Without making out. Because he’s my DAD. I came home from work to find the man passed out in my hammock. So cute. Earlier he’d told me he wasn’t really a hammock guy. So when I didn’t see him in the apartment I figured he’d be chillin’ in the swing or off on a walk. Instead he was in the hammock with his RV catalog beside him, his hands clasped on his chest and his cigar clutched in his fingers. Luckily for him, my hammock and my yard the cigar had gone out. I was torn between wanting to wake him up quietly and running back inside to get my camera. The gentle waking won out. Alas. I think I made the wrong choice because the photo would’ve been awesome.
Anyway. We got all pretty and headed off to the Zombie Hut for drinks. Lots of tropical things with dolphins and umbrellas and such in them. And bowls of goldfish that Dad and I kept trying not to inhale, but weren’t so successful. Dad and I tend to graze on whatever is in front of us. Not good. But it’s who we are. Cows who graze. It was a nice little happy hour. We had a table right by the window and drank and grazed and chatted and people watched. Pretty awesome. Then it was off to The Grocery for a nice dinner. It’s a very zen like kinda feel. Minimalist decoration and all. I was facing the restaurant so I at least got to see patrons and staff. I hadn’t realized it until the end but Dad was facing me and a wall and wasn’t quite getting the same visual stimulation. But the food was good and the wine was good and we had a nice time.
Day Three was a little more mellow. Just some hanging around the apartment puttering and eating take-out from Buddy’s Burritos. Which was nice. I like that my folks come to visit and we can just hang and don’t have to spend every moment trying to do some exciting activity.
Then on Friday he headed back home and I headed to work and then LA. Woo.
On Day Two, we apparently had a bit of a date night. Without making out. Because he’s my DAD. I came home from work to find the man passed out in my hammock. So cute. Earlier he’d told me he wasn’t really a hammock guy. So when I didn’t see him in the apartment I figured he’d be chillin’ in the swing or off on a walk. Instead he was in the hammock with his RV catalog beside him, his hands clasped on his chest and his cigar clutched in his fingers. Luckily for him, my hammock and my yard the cigar had gone out. I was torn between wanting to wake him up quietly and running back inside to get my camera. The gentle waking won out. Alas. I think I made the wrong choice because the photo would’ve been awesome.
Anyway. We got all pretty and headed off to the Zombie Hut for drinks. Lots of tropical things with dolphins and umbrellas and such in them. And bowls of goldfish that Dad and I kept trying not to inhale, but weren’t so successful. Dad and I tend to graze on whatever is in front of us. Not good. But it’s who we are. Cows who graze. It was a nice little happy hour. We had a table right by the window and drank and grazed and chatted and people watched. Pretty awesome. Then it was off to The Grocery for a nice dinner. It’s a very zen like kinda feel. Minimalist decoration and all. I was facing the restaurant so I at least got to see patrons and staff. I hadn’t realized it until the end but Dad was facing me and a wall and wasn’t quite getting the same visual stimulation. But the food was good and the wine was good and we had a nice time.
Day Three was a little more mellow. Just some hanging around the apartment puttering and eating take-out from Buddy’s Burritos. Which was nice. I like that my folks come to visit and we can just hang and don’t have to spend every moment trying to do some exciting activity.
Then on Friday he headed back home and I headed to work and then LA. Woo.
Hoku
Pumpkin had to put her dog to sleep last night. She sent an email this morning. I was on the phone with her last night, blathering on about Tangerine's wedding and she had to go quickly because he was crying. And I kinda worried then. But I was still hopeful that it was just one of his bad days and he'd be fine.
She found out that he was sick earlier last month. But he managed to hang in there and have a pretty good doggie time until recently. So I think she was able to say goodbye, spend some good time with him and sort of make peace with him dying. I hope. I know I was really happy when I was there earlier this month and he was still seeming mostly like his Hoku self. He's such an awesome dog. And I got a little sad saying goodbye to him on the way to the train station. I only saw him on visits to Pumpkin but he was excellent and I did love him. And I can’t picture her house without him.
I remember when Pumpkin first got him and I’d go visit her at Cornell. She very graciously let me sleep on her bed while she and her boyfriend sacked out on the floor. And then Hoku climbed up on the bed and flopped down on me and it started to become clear why I got the bed. Then he threw up on me and it was even more clear. Heh.
He was a much bigger dog than I was used to hanging with. My family always had smaller dogs that were excitable but couldn’t really do much about it. So I sometimes wondered if Hoku wasn’t going to just knock me over at some point. On one visit to Pumpkin it was my guestly job to walk him while she was in class. A first I thought he was going to yank my arm out of my socket pulling on the leash (because I’m a wimp) or maybe even pull me off my feet and drag me along behind him (I was smaller and lighter then). Then I let him go run and play in one of the pretty water areas there and was convinced I would lose him. I had visions of him running far and wide, getting away from me and looking for his beloved Pumpkin and in doing so, would be lost forever. Thankfully, this did not happen. He never really left my line of sight, tired himself out, came back and we trotted on back to her apartment.
He was always so friendly. Right at the door when we’d get to her place. Demanding love and attention and ball throwing all the time. Allowing me to rub his belly whenever I wanted, out of the kindness of his heart. I got used to the big friendly dog love and kinda liked it. And he was such a beautiful dog. I used to tell him how pretty he was until Pumpkin made me stop. Said he was a boy and not pretty. So I had to start telling him what a handsome thing he was.
I just wish he hadn’t gotten sick and that Pumpkin could’ve had him around for a while longer. It happens. You tend to outlive your pets. But it sucks so much. Even if you know it’s going to happen. I’ve lost pets and it’s just so horrible.
I’ve never had to actually make the call though. Never had to make the decision to put an animal to sleep. With Sally, our first dog, she was sick and one day I came home from school and Mom and Dad had already put her to sleep and buried her. It was a shock and I was very, very sad. But I had no responsibility in it. I trusted that my parents made the right call and was a little sad I couldn’t say goodbye, but figured they knew what they were doing. With Pussywillow, she started acting sick right before Christmas. And she held on through the holidays. Then, when I was at school, Mom and Dad took her to the vet. The vet said that she was too sick and nothing could be done and the best thing to do was to put her to sleep. So they brought her home so I could say goodbye before taking her down to the vet. But the trip to the vet must have been too much for her. Because she died while Mom and Dad were getting me. And then with our dog Freckles, I was in New York and she was basically Mom and Dad’s dog then and not mine. And they made the decision to put her to sleep once it seemed like life was more bad than good for her. So again, I lost the pets, but didn’t really have to take responsibility for them. And I’m afraid to do that. I love my girls and get so sad when I look at Nani and realize that she’s an older cat now. She’s healthy and happy and all, but I just dread the day when she’s not.
But today she’s fine and Hoku is not and Pumpkin probably isn’t totally either. And I wish I could do something. I have found new love for my suitcase and would love to go see her this weekend, but she probably has to work or wants to be alone or something. I don’t know. -- Let me know, babe. I’m thinking of you. As is my Mom I suspect. Well, she will be as soon as she gets up. As are a lot of people.
She found out that he was sick earlier last month. But he managed to hang in there and have a pretty good doggie time until recently. So I think she was able to say goodbye, spend some good time with him and sort of make peace with him dying. I hope. I know I was really happy when I was there earlier this month and he was still seeming mostly like his Hoku self. He's such an awesome dog. And I got a little sad saying goodbye to him on the way to the train station. I only saw him on visits to Pumpkin but he was excellent and I did love him. And I can’t picture her house without him.
I remember when Pumpkin first got him and I’d go visit her at Cornell. She very graciously let me sleep on her bed while she and her boyfriend sacked out on the floor. And then Hoku climbed up on the bed and flopped down on me and it started to become clear why I got the bed. Then he threw up on me and it was even more clear. Heh.
He was a much bigger dog than I was used to hanging with. My family always had smaller dogs that were excitable but couldn’t really do much about it. So I sometimes wondered if Hoku wasn’t going to just knock me over at some point. On one visit to Pumpkin it was my guestly job to walk him while she was in class. A first I thought he was going to yank my arm out of my socket pulling on the leash (because I’m a wimp) or maybe even pull me off my feet and drag me along behind him (I was smaller and lighter then). Then I let him go run and play in one of the pretty water areas there and was convinced I would lose him. I had visions of him running far and wide, getting away from me and looking for his beloved Pumpkin and in doing so, would be lost forever. Thankfully, this did not happen. He never really left my line of sight, tired himself out, came back and we trotted on back to her apartment.
He was always so friendly. Right at the door when we’d get to her place. Demanding love and attention and ball throwing all the time. Allowing me to rub his belly whenever I wanted, out of the kindness of his heart. I got used to the big friendly dog love and kinda liked it. And he was such a beautiful dog. I used to tell him how pretty he was until Pumpkin made me stop. Said he was a boy and not pretty. So I had to start telling him what a handsome thing he was.
I just wish he hadn’t gotten sick and that Pumpkin could’ve had him around for a while longer. It happens. You tend to outlive your pets. But it sucks so much. Even if you know it’s going to happen. I’ve lost pets and it’s just so horrible.
I’ve never had to actually make the call though. Never had to make the decision to put an animal to sleep. With Sally, our first dog, she was sick and one day I came home from school and Mom and Dad had already put her to sleep and buried her. It was a shock and I was very, very sad. But I had no responsibility in it. I trusted that my parents made the right call and was a little sad I couldn’t say goodbye, but figured they knew what they were doing. With Pussywillow, she started acting sick right before Christmas. And she held on through the holidays. Then, when I was at school, Mom and Dad took her to the vet. The vet said that she was too sick and nothing could be done and the best thing to do was to put her to sleep. So they brought her home so I could say goodbye before taking her down to the vet. But the trip to the vet must have been too much for her. Because she died while Mom and Dad were getting me. And then with our dog Freckles, I was in New York and she was basically Mom and Dad’s dog then and not mine. And they made the decision to put her to sleep once it seemed like life was more bad than good for her. So again, I lost the pets, but didn’t really have to take responsibility for them. And I’m afraid to do that. I love my girls and get so sad when I look at Nani and realize that she’s an older cat now. She’s healthy and happy and all, but I just dread the day when she’s not.
But today she’s fine and Hoku is not and Pumpkin probably isn’t totally either. And I wish I could do something. I have found new love for my suitcase and would love to go see her this weekend, but she probably has to work or wants to be alone or something. I don’t know. -- Let me know, babe. I’m thinking of you. As is my Mom I suspect. Well, she will be as soon as she gets up. As are a lot of people.
Monday, July 19, 2004
I'm HOME!!!!
I was so excited in the car going home last night. I just kept looking at Jersey and then New York grinning and all happy to be home, back in New York, back in Brooklyn. It felt kinda peaceful to be back here, despite the nonsense people spout about how crazy and intense New York is. I felt kinda calm being back home.
I have had a wonderful time traveling all over and seeing my high school friends and all of that. It's all been big fun. My sheer joy at being back at New York is not a reflection on the time spent away. Just so you know. But I am so happy to be back right now.
Tonight I plan to unpack and then hide my suitcase in the basement. I've become irrationally angry with it and kinda want to cry whenever I have to pack it or lift it. I feel my suitcase and I need a little space, some time apart from each other. And since I pay the rent, the suitcase can go in the basement and I'll be staying in the apartment. I'm also going to clean the catbox and change my sheets. And when it stops raining I'm going to mow the lawn and put the hammock back in its spot. And make my apartment all pretty and habitable so I can run around in it and love it enough to be able to handle my next trip in September. Yay. Woo Woo.
Unless Muffy & Steph and I actually follow through on the rumblings we've had about going camping. But maybe I won't have to pack a suitcase if we do that in August. Maybe just a bag. Hmmmm...
Also, I need to catch up on photos and my blogs. Ugh. I brought my laptop with me this weekend to work on the travel entries and just didn't have a moment to myself the whole time. So, gotta do that this week whenever I have a moment. Soon I hope. At least Birthday Week is done. Well, the blogs, not the photo situation.
I am not thrilled to be back in the office, though. Just so you know.
I have had a wonderful time traveling all over and seeing my high school friends and all of that. It's all been big fun. My sheer joy at being back at New York is not a reflection on the time spent away. Just so you know. But I am so happy to be back right now.
Tonight I plan to unpack and then hide my suitcase in the basement. I've become irrationally angry with it and kinda want to cry whenever I have to pack it or lift it. I feel my suitcase and I need a little space, some time apart from each other. And since I pay the rent, the suitcase can go in the basement and I'll be staying in the apartment. I'm also going to clean the catbox and change my sheets. And when it stops raining I'm going to mow the lawn and put the hammock back in its spot. And make my apartment all pretty and habitable so I can run around in it and love it enough to be able to handle my next trip in September. Yay. Woo Woo.
Unless Muffy & Steph and I actually follow through on the rumblings we've had about going camping. But maybe I won't have to pack a suitcase if we do that in August. Maybe just a bag. Hmmmm...
Also, I need to catch up on photos and my blogs. Ugh. I brought my laptop with me this weekend to work on the travel entries and just didn't have a moment to myself the whole time. So, gotta do that this week whenever I have a moment. Soon I hope. At least Birthday Week is done. Well, the blogs, not the photo situation.
I am not thrilled to be back in the office, though. Just so you know.
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Birthday Week - Day Ten (6-20)
I was up much earlier than anyone should have to be the day after they turn 30, but it was all really my own fault. Seeing as I had scheduled brunch and all. Originally I thought that there would be houseguests and people crashing after the party. One party left me with five folks there the next morning, and I ended up making them all pancakes that day. I figured it was birthday week so I’d just schedule a brunch into that day after and not have to make pancakes for anyone. Of course it turns out that this was the first party ever that I didn’t have anyone in my apartment the next morning.
Oh god. I hope this isn’t a bad sign for my thirties - a future without overnight guests!?!?!? Not good. Um… I’m a little worried now…
Yeah. I’m not going to think about that. Anyway. A few folks were actually popping by for brunch despite not staying the night so I had to be up and dressed and ready to go. Traveler was even coming in from Connecticut just for brunch. Because he is the sweetest ever.
I was actually up and dressed and tidying a bit when the Traveler arrived. Then Muffy and Steph. There was some miscommunication with Vader, so we ended up hanging out in the backyard for a while, the four of us just chatting and enjoying the really, really pretty day. Finally we all headed over to Lobo for brunch. Eggs and guacamole and spicy Bloody Mary’s and excellent conversation make for a sterling morning after brunch. I was really happy we did it despite my lack of morning after guests.
Then Muffy and Steph drove their grill home and the Traveler headed off. Vader and I hung out in my backyard chatting for ever and it was really pleasant. The weather was gorgeous and it was just fun, lazy friends who’ve known each other forever (21 damn years. Wow. Our friendship can go out drinking now sitting out back dishing. Perfect way to wrap up Birthday Week I think.
Eventually I let the poor woman go home so I could watch some TiVo (yay TiVo) and get to bed.
I can’t wait to do this all again next year. Yay!
Oh god. I hope this isn’t a bad sign for my thirties - a future without overnight guests!?!?!? Not good. Um… I’m a little worried now…
Yeah. I’m not going to think about that. Anyway. A few folks were actually popping by for brunch despite not staying the night so I had to be up and dressed and ready to go. Traveler was even coming in from Connecticut just for brunch. Because he is the sweetest ever.
I was actually up and dressed and tidying a bit when the Traveler arrived. Then Muffy and Steph. There was some miscommunication with Vader, so we ended up hanging out in the backyard for a while, the four of us just chatting and enjoying the really, really pretty day. Finally we all headed over to Lobo for brunch. Eggs and guacamole and spicy Bloody Mary’s and excellent conversation make for a sterling morning after brunch. I was really happy we did it despite my lack of morning after guests.
Then Muffy and Steph drove their grill home and the Traveler headed off. Vader and I hung out in my backyard chatting for ever and it was really pleasant. The weather was gorgeous and it was just fun, lazy friends who’ve known each other forever (21 damn years. Wow. Our friendship can go out drinking now sitting out back dishing. Perfect way to wrap up Birthday Week I think.
Eventually I let the poor woman go home so I could watch some TiVo (yay TiVo) and get to bed.
I can’t wait to do this all again next year. Yay!
Birthday Week - Day Nine (6-19)
I had a Fresh Direct order coming between 9 & 11 and had to make sure I was home by 9. Which was a lot of fun considering I was exhausted and kinda hungover. But surprisingly I caught an awesome cab driver (who did not hit on me) who got me home super fast. The food didn’t actually get there until about 10. Which wasn’t so bad. I mostly sat in my chair drinking water and moaning a little. It wasn’t a horrible painful hangover. It was just one of those things where you’re really tired and your tummy hurts a little and you feel like you might get a headache but then don’t actually get one. It could’ve been much worse.
But then the food came. And I had starchy junk food to munch on and soothe my tummy. And then Muffy came on over to prove her awesomeness as a friend for the three millionth time. And she brought me coffee. We sat and enjoyed our coffee and giggled and moaned (well, I moaned - she was quite pleasant) and I started to feel better. While moaning and coffeeing we opened my bday gifts from Mom. All kinds of cute things she picked up in China like a pretty barrette of lacquer and mother of pearl. I’m afraid to wear it because I don’t want to hurt it. And fancy tea. And slippers and a pretty bracelet and all sorts of things. It was my birthday and all. Some gift opening had to happen and I told all my friends not to bring gifts. Turns out my friends are a disobedient bunch.
At about noon we started working on getting the pad in shape for the party. Which was not fun. We moved furniture and put together the hammock - which is a FABULOUS hammock. We moved crumbling stone garden boarder pieces into the basement. I dropped one on my foot and it hurt real bad. Muffy thought a trip to the emergency room would be a bit of a downer during Birthday Week, so luckily we didn’t have to make one. But it HURT. It didn’t bruise much though. I got a really ugly bruise on my left forearm that didn’t hurt at all though. That’s the one that had everyone worried all evening. Strange. And there was lots of cleaning and all. Eventually I started on my minimal cooking. Normally I spend days making about forty different things but this time I didn’t want to stress myself too much during birthday week and all. So sausage (vegetarian) balls, artichoke (baked Mayo!) dip and Tex-Mex dip were about it for me.
While I was cooking, Muffy went all Martha Stewart in my backyard and it was awesome as well as adorable. She set up all the furniture and arranged a cooking area and seating areas and so on and so forth. I really needed to have taken a picture of it all before everyone arrived, but I’m a slacker and was running behind (as always when it comes to parties). You’ll just have to try and picture it in your mind.
Anyway, she headed home to rest and get prettier and all that and I showered and went back to cooking. Rock Star Fran showed up first - with gifts. It’s All About Me Earrings and pretty slippers that I put on right away. And then I put her to work making most of the Tex-Mex dip because she is a good friend. Then others started popping in with meat and beer and gifts (shame, shame - but very sweet). At some point Muffy & Steph showed up with the grill (because they are far better to me than I deserve) and got that going. I really had very little to do with the grilling as I don’t much care how my veggie burgers are done. At some point Muffy asked me for them, I gave them to her and then a little while later I had a plate with cooked veggie burgers on a bun with cheese. Muffy is kinda magical, y’all.
It was a lot of fun. Tons of people showed up. Well, twenty or so, but that seems like tons. Everyone kinda gathered around the table on the porch area, breaking up poor Muffy’s lawn seating area to bring chairs over to the table. Though I guess that is where the chips and dips were gathering so it makes sense. And there was chatting and beer drinking and hat wearing and all that. At one point DKE got out and had to be fetched and put back in her carrier - adding some nice scratches to my very sexy bruises. Muffy and Steph ran off to get me cupcakes (that whole better than I deserve thing). They were very suspicious upon leaving so I told everyone they ran off for a quickie. I’m pleased with how easily most people believed me. I am a bad person.
Couples kept sneaking off to lay in the hammock and everyone showed proper awe for my excellent backyard. I kept wanting to sneak off for an nap in the hammock due to being completely exhausted and all but thought that might be a little tacky. Actually I did sneak off for a bit after it was dark. But everyone kept looking back at me so I was only in the hammock for about two minutes. Heh. Besides, I really couldn’t handle the idea that there was fun going on and I wasn’t part of it.
At some point Turnip called to wish me Happy Birthday and to tell me she loved me. Because she is cool like that. Sadly I kept getting called away and I think she managed to talk more with everyone else at the party than with me. Oops. Everyone seems to like her though so that’s nice. And she got invited to Monkey Man’s housewarming party by his roommate even though I hadn’t even been invited. And the party doesn’t actually have a date yet…
Nothing horribly exciting happened. Well, there were fireworks or something that we could hear at one point. The group said they were for Olympic Torch ceremonies, but I think we all know that it was in honor of me. And at some point the wind really picked up outside and it got kinda cold. I was actually handing out sweatshirts and shirts and things. Charlotte even put on Ed’s Shirt just to be a little warmer. So we cleaned up out back and then headed in.
We wrapped things up with Vader, Muffy, Steph and I giggling and being dorks in my apartment, putting goo on Vader’s forehead and making dumb jokes and all that.
I think everyone was out of there not long after 1AM and I got to crawl into my pretty, pretty bed feeling a little bit better about being 30. Okay, a lot better about being 30.
My friends are awesome. Really. I’m too lucky. Don’t deserve any of you.
I guess it doesn’t make for an exciting story, but I had a really great day nine.
But then the food came. And I had starchy junk food to munch on and soothe my tummy. And then Muffy came on over to prove her awesomeness as a friend for the three millionth time. And she brought me coffee. We sat and enjoyed our coffee and giggled and moaned (well, I moaned - she was quite pleasant) and I started to feel better. While moaning and coffeeing we opened my bday gifts from Mom. All kinds of cute things she picked up in China like a pretty barrette of lacquer and mother of pearl. I’m afraid to wear it because I don’t want to hurt it. And fancy tea. And slippers and a pretty bracelet and all sorts of things. It was my birthday and all. Some gift opening had to happen and I told all my friends not to bring gifts. Turns out my friends are a disobedient bunch.
At about noon we started working on getting the pad in shape for the party. Which was not fun. We moved furniture and put together the hammock - which is a FABULOUS hammock. We moved crumbling stone garden boarder pieces into the basement. I dropped one on my foot and it hurt real bad. Muffy thought a trip to the emergency room would be a bit of a downer during Birthday Week, so luckily we didn’t have to make one. But it HURT. It didn’t bruise much though. I got a really ugly bruise on my left forearm that didn’t hurt at all though. That’s the one that had everyone worried all evening. Strange. And there was lots of cleaning and all. Eventually I started on my minimal cooking. Normally I spend days making about forty different things but this time I didn’t want to stress myself too much during birthday week and all. So sausage (vegetarian) balls, artichoke (baked Mayo!) dip and Tex-Mex dip were about it for me.
While I was cooking, Muffy went all Martha Stewart in my backyard and it was awesome as well as adorable. She set up all the furniture and arranged a cooking area and seating areas and so on and so forth. I really needed to have taken a picture of it all before everyone arrived, but I’m a slacker and was running behind (as always when it comes to parties). You’ll just have to try and picture it in your mind.
Anyway, she headed home to rest and get prettier and all that and I showered and went back to cooking. Rock Star Fran showed up first - with gifts. It’s All About Me Earrings and pretty slippers that I put on right away. And then I put her to work making most of the Tex-Mex dip because she is a good friend. Then others started popping in with meat and beer and gifts (shame, shame - but very sweet). At some point Muffy & Steph showed up with the grill (because they are far better to me than I deserve) and got that going. I really had very little to do with the grilling as I don’t much care how my veggie burgers are done. At some point Muffy asked me for them, I gave them to her and then a little while later I had a plate with cooked veggie burgers on a bun with cheese. Muffy is kinda magical, y’all.
It was a lot of fun. Tons of people showed up. Well, twenty or so, but that seems like tons. Everyone kinda gathered around the table on the porch area, breaking up poor Muffy’s lawn seating area to bring chairs over to the table. Though I guess that is where the chips and dips were gathering so it makes sense. And there was chatting and beer drinking and hat wearing and all that. At one point DKE got out and had to be fetched and put back in her carrier - adding some nice scratches to my very sexy bruises. Muffy and Steph ran off to get me cupcakes (that whole better than I deserve thing). They were very suspicious upon leaving so I told everyone they ran off for a quickie. I’m pleased with how easily most people believed me. I am a bad person.
Couples kept sneaking off to lay in the hammock and everyone showed proper awe for my excellent backyard. I kept wanting to sneak off for an nap in the hammock due to being completely exhausted and all but thought that might be a little tacky. Actually I did sneak off for a bit after it was dark. But everyone kept looking back at me so I was only in the hammock for about two minutes. Heh. Besides, I really couldn’t handle the idea that there was fun going on and I wasn’t part of it.
At some point Turnip called to wish me Happy Birthday and to tell me she loved me. Because she is cool like that. Sadly I kept getting called away and I think she managed to talk more with everyone else at the party than with me. Oops. Everyone seems to like her though so that’s nice. And she got invited to Monkey Man’s housewarming party by his roommate even though I hadn’t even been invited. And the party doesn’t actually have a date yet…
Nothing horribly exciting happened. Well, there were fireworks or something that we could hear at one point. The group said they were for Olympic Torch ceremonies, but I think we all know that it was in honor of me. And at some point the wind really picked up outside and it got kinda cold. I was actually handing out sweatshirts and shirts and things. Charlotte even put on Ed’s Shirt just to be a little warmer. So we cleaned up out back and then headed in.
We wrapped things up with Vader, Muffy, Steph and I giggling and being dorks in my apartment, putting goo on Vader’s forehead and making dumb jokes and all that.
I think everyone was out of there not long after 1AM and I got to crawl into my pretty, pretty bed feeling a little bit better about being 30. Okay, a lot better about being 30.
My friends are awesome. Really. I’m too lucky. Don’t deserve any of you.
I guess it doesn’t make for an exciting story, but I had a really great day nine.
Thursday, July 08, 2004
Birthday Week - Day Eight (6-18)
Well, finally work decided to throw a little love, adoration and early departure time my way. Rock Star Fran made me cupcakes, Lovey brought in popcorn and Sheena made me brownies. There was a card and my evil boss, but luckily no singing. And because I took off at 1, it was pretty brief. So that was kinda nice. Sweet of them to think of me. Though I really dislike most of my coworkers and the ones I do like were invited to Birthday Week so it did feel a little unnecessary. I’m such a fucking ingrate. Lovey, RSF & Sheena - it was very nice and I loved it.
So, I had planned to spend my free afternoon doing all kinds of things around the apartment and running errands for the big party on Day 9. I did manage to run one errand and cross a couple things off my to-do list, but then I just napped the rest of the damn day. Which proved to be a good thing, but made me feel like such a slacker. Though really, what better way to spend an early day off from work?
I finally dragged myself out of bed in time to get sorta pretty for the night’s events. Friends and I used to go to Rose’s Turn a lot a long while back. Nekkid found it when she was visiting from Arkansas during our 24th birthdays. She’s a day younger than I am and she was in town for both the 19th and the 20th. Since it was her birthday she got to pick what we’d do. And she wanted a piano bar. And she managed to pick a rowdy one in the West Village. Good times. It’s an awesome place and we had a fabulous drunken night. And then friends, family & I went back often and for hours. Mom loves the place and Dad tolerates it when he has to. Poor guy even got dragged there during Pride Week one year. Anyway, I hadn’t been back in a couple of years and figured Birthday Week was a good excuse to go. And the place is as awesome as it ever was.
Muffy and Steph got there earlier than I did and staked out an excellent section even though they’d never been there before. Very smart people. We drank and chatted and then PimpDaddy and his woman, Skipper, showed up to make out behind Ed’s Shirt and drink with us. Then Lovey popped in for a drink and out for dinner and back in for more drinks. And Sheena and her man showed up for a little bit. No making out for them though. Alas.
PimpDaddy and Skipper are lovely and yet evil people. So they told our waitress it was my birthday. And the bar was then forced to sing to me. But then I got a drink on the house. So that was excellent.
And then it was 12:30AM and that complete bastard, Steph, decided to tell me that I was 30. Actually 30. And had been 30 for about half an hour. I almost cried. I figured that I’d have birthday week and be all above the fear of 30 and whatever and then I freaked out. For a little bit. Okay, for the rest of the night I was a bit freaked. Thirty! Ugh. I can’t believe it. I practiced saying I was 30 for a few months prior to this. I thought it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. I was mistaken. Dang. Thirty. At some point our waitress heard my fussing and I got another drink on the house for being 30. Which was awesome and yet horrifying. THIRTY!!!!! It seems so old. I used to say that I’d sleep when I was 30. That apparently was not true, but it seemed once upon a time that 30 would be when the fun was over.
Anyway, eventually everyone abandoned my spazzing old ass except Muffy and Steph. And so the three of us left the bar to get ice cream. Having Mr. Softee trucks driving around the streets of New York all day and parking near bars at night is an excellent thing.
Stop reading, Daddy.
And then I went to a friend’s place to be reassured that I was not a scary ancient hag. On the way I actually got hit on by the cab driver which was, well, kinda reassuring. Being 30 and in danger of being a spinster and all. He wasn’t the hottest guy ever but was kinda cute. From Jersey I think. Currently living in the Bronx. In fact, he offered to pull over the cab and do me right there. God help me, the first thought I had was, “I’ve never done it in a cab.” And then I thought that it might be tacky all things considered and turned him down. Alas. What if that was my only chance to do it in a cab? I did give him my number. I think. There had been a lot of drinks. I know he gave me his. Heh.
Um, anyway. That was Day 8. So far as y’all know.
So, I had planned to spend my free afternoon doing all kinds of things around the apartment and running errands for the big party on Day 9. I did manage to run one errand and cross a couple things off my to-do list, but then I just napped the rest of the damn day. Which proved to be a good thing, but made me feel like such a slacker. Though really, what better way to spend an early day off from work?
I finally dragged myself out of bed in time to get sorta pretty for the night’s events. Friends and I used to go to Rose’s Turn a lot a long while back. Nekkid found it when she was visiting from Arkansas during our 24th birthdays. She’s a day younger than I am and she was in town for both the 19th and the 20th. Since it was her birthday she got to pick what we’d do. And she wanted a piano bar. And she managed to pick a rowdy one in the West Village. Good times. It’s an awesome place and we had a fabulous drunken night. And then friends, family & I went back often and for hours. Mom loves the place and Dad tolerates it when he has to. Poor guy even got dragged there during Pride Week one year. Anyway, I hadn’t been back in a couple of years and figured Birthday Week was a good excuse to go. And the place is as awesome as it ever was.
Muffy and Steph got there earlier than I did and staked out an excellent section even though they’d never been there before. Very smart people. We drank and chatted and then PimpDaddy and his woman, Skipper, showed up to make out behind Ed’s Shirt and drink with us. Then Lovey popped in for a drink and out for dinner and back in for more drinks. And Sheena and her man showed up for a little bit. No making out for them though. Alas.
PimpDaddy and Skipper are lovely and yet evil people. So they told our waitress it was my birthday. And the bar was then forced to sing to me. But then I got a drink on the house. So that was excellent.
And then it was 12:30AM and that complete bastard, Steph, decided to tell me that I was 30. Actually 30. And had been 30 for about half an hour. I almost cried. I figured that I’d have birthday week and be all above the fear of 30 and whatever and then I freaked out. For a little bit. Okay, for the rest of the night I was a bit freaked. Thirty! Ugh. I can’t believe it. I practiced saying I was 30 for a few months prior to this. I thought it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. I was mistaken. Dang. Thirty. At some point our waitress heard my fussing and I got another drink on the house for being 30. Which was awesome and yet horrifying. THIRTY!!!!! It seems so old. I used to say that I’d sleep when I was 30. That apparently was not true, but it seemed once upon a time that 30 would be when the fun was over.
Anyway, eventually everyone abandoned my spazzing old ass except Muffy and Steph. And so the three of us left the bar to get ice cream. Having Mr. Softee trucks driving around the streets of New York all day and parking near bars at night is an excellent thing.
Stop reading, Daddy.
And then I went to a friend’s place to be reassured that I was not a scary ancient hag. On the way I actually got hit on by the cab driver which was, well, kinda reassuring. Being 30 and in danger of being a spinster and all. He wasn’t the hottest guy ever but was kinda cute. From Jersey I think. Currently living in the Bronx. In fact, he offered to pull over the cab and do me right there. God help me, the first thought I had was, “I’ve never done it in a cab.” And then I thought that it might be tacky all things considered and turned him down. Alas. What if that was my only chance to do it in a cab? I did give him my number. I think. There had been a lot of drinks. I know he gave me his. Heh.
Um, anyway. That was Day 8. So far as y’all know.
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
Kill me
I just found a long gray hair. I am so upset. I have no words.
I have the cats, the Brooklyn garden apartment and now the long gray hair. I'm 30. I am a spinster now.
Please don't expect to see me again. I'm only going to leave the apartment for work and otherwise will be staying home with my cats and garden from here on out.
I hate being old. Dammit.
I have the cats, the Brooklyn garden apartment and now the long gray hair. I'm 30. I am a spinster now.
Please don't expect to see me again. I'm only going to leave the apartment for work and otherwise will be staying home with my cats and garden from here on out.
I hate being old. Dammit.
Tuesday, July 06, 2004
Happy 4th!
I totally forgot to put the flamingo's Uncle Sam outfit on before I left for Boston on Friday. Silly me. Dangit.
The weekend in Boston was good, but exhausting. Between Birthday Week, Dad's visit, LA and Boston I'm exhausted, sore and never ever want to see my suitcase again. And I think my kitties are starting to doubt my love for them. Luckily I don't have to travel again for nine whole days. Bliss! I'm trying to keep those nine days very low key. I mean, c'mon. I'm 30 now. I should be spending more time reading in my garden, surrounded by my cats. Right?
More later when I'm not so run down though. Like Tomorrow. I hope.
The weekend in Boston was good, but exhausting. Between Birthday Week, Dad's visit, LA and Boston I'm exhausted, sore and never ever want to see my suitcase again. And I think my kitties are starting to doubt my love for them. Luckily I don't have to travel again for nine whole days. Bliss! I'm trying to keep those nine days very low key. I mean, c'mon. I'm 30 now. I should be spending more time reading in my garden, surrounded by my cats. Right?
More later when I'm not so run down though. Like Tomorrow. I hope.
Friday, July 02, 2004
Birthday Week - Day Seven (6-17)
Work. Blah blah blah. I did manage to have coffee with Auto though. He was working that afternoon and came all the way up to big bad Midtown Manhattan to humor me a tiny bit during Birthday Week. I admire that in a person. Humoring me, stroking my ego, giving me the mad love. Good things. If y’all want to be friends with me, brush up on that stuff.
I was going to go to Taekwon Do class after work but Muppet and Mr. Muppet and Park were heading for pre-Karaoke dinner and won me over to their dark side. Beer and food and friends or sweating and hurting. I love the Taekwon Do but c’mon. It is Birthday Week. So, off to Heartland Brewery for beer and onion rings and stuff. And because Park hates the subway we all trotted to the garage to get her car. And while I would love to mock her a little bit for the whole germ/subway thing, she gave me a ride in the pouring rain to Karaoke AND dropped me off right at the door. So the mocking will happen later.
I was the first person to arrive at Planet Rose from my party and the second person to arrive who didn’t work there. Some cute little man was at the end of the bar chatting with the bartender as she made him some blue drink. I ordered a vodka tonic and waited for the gang to appear. And read through the song book pondering all the songs I would NOT be singing that night.
See, I hate Karaoke. Well, I hate singing in public. Singing in the shower is awesome. I rock at that. When no one else is in my home. And I like watching other people sing in public. But I don’t like doing it. And so going to Karaoke where you KNOW someone is going to make you embarrass yourself just isn’t fun for me. It also doesn’t help that I know a ton of people who are excellent at Karaoke. ‘Cause they rock out and then I have to get up and sing and it’s just so sad in comparison. It’s actually sad without the talented folks but they just make me look even sadder and who needs that really? But a lot of people requested a Karaoke night for Birthday Week and I mistakenly thought that it being my BIRTHDAY WEEK I wouldn’t be forced to sing. Yeah, I’m cute but not so bright sometimes.
So, folks arrive pretty quickly and the awesomeness begins. BigD rocks out as is his way as does Rock Star Fran. Mr. Muppet sings The Highwayman as wonderfully as ever (it’s his Karaoke thing, you see). The Muppets and Park get me to help on the back-up for Love Shack. BigD sings some Neil Diamond and Rock Star Fran loves the performance but mocks the lyrics, which is as it should be. Rugby hid on the zebra couches hoping that no one would make her sing. Smart girl. One of the highlights was BigD & Rock Star Fran’s duet on You Don’t Send Me Flowers. Such emoting. Such lovely singing. I couldn’t stop cracking up. Buzz and SuperVixen showed up at some point. As did ButtKicker and Chuck. Lots of fun folks. And there was more singing. A bunch of the girls did Faith and Rock Star Fran had to do a lot of voiceover chatter about George Michael’s ass which seemed to be appreciated. Buzz sang me some Britney Spears and my buds actually dedicated quite a few songs to me. Rock Star Fran started to get a little tired and made me join her on Country Roads. The bar was pretty crowded (with at least two other birthday parties) and I felt for their poor little ears at this point. Then, someone not in our group dedicated a song to Amanda “whoever she is”. It was the little guy who was in the bar when I arrived. He just sat at the end of the bar on his little stool singing numbers every now and then all night long. And then ended up dedicating one to me. Cracked me up.
BigD decided to do Satisfaction (I think? - I’d been drinking a lot at this point) as his finale and danced and rocked all around the whole bar. We were all kind of in awe. The whole bar was kind of in awe. And he was pretty wiped out after that. Poor li’l guy. But it was excellent.
Oh, and earlier in the evening ButtKicker had put in The Tide is High under my name. Rock Star Fran promised to sing it for us while we did back up but then she bailed before the song came up. Buzz said he’d do it, but he was lying. So I ended up doing it while ButtKicker and SuperVixen helped me a little bit. Mean. And after that I don’t think any of the rest of us could take it anymore. And the last of the stragglers trotted on home. I got into bed considerably before dawn, but a bit after midnight. Respectable for Day Seven I think. Yes? And despite my little hate of Karaoke I had a really good time.
I was going to go to Taekwon Do class after work but Muppet and Mr. Muppet and Park were heading for pre-Karaoke dinner and won me over to their dark side. Beer and food and friends or sweating and hurting. I love the Taekwon Do but c’mon. It is Birthday Week. So, off to Heartland Brewery for beer and onion rings and stuff. And because Park hates the subway we all trotted to the garage to get her car. And while I would love to mock her a little bit for the whole germ/subway thing, she gave me a ride in the pouring rain to Karaoke AND dropped me off right at the door. So the mocking will happen later.
I was the first person to arrive at Planet Rose from my party and the second person to arrive who didn’t work there. Some cute little man was at the end of the bar chatting with the bartender as she made him some blue drink. I ordered a vodka tonic and waited for the gang to appear. And read through the song book pondering all the songs I would NOT be singing that night.
See, I hate Karaoke. Well, I hate singing in public. Singing in the shower is awesome. I rock at that. When no one else is in my home. And I like watching other people sing in public. But I don’t like doing it. And so going to Karaoke where you KNOW someone is going to make you embarrass yourself just isn’t fun for me. It also doesn’t help that I know a ton of people who are excellent at Karaoke. ‘Cause they rock out and then I have to get up and sing and it’s just so sad in comparison. It’s actually sad without the talented folks but they just make me look even sadder and who needs that really? But a lot of people requested a Karaoke night for Birthday Week and I mistakenly thought that it being my BIRTHDAY WEEK I wouldn’t be forced to sing. Yeah, I’m cute but not so bright sometimes.
So, folks arrive pretty quickly and the awesomeness begins. BigD rocks out as is his way as does Rock Star Fran. Mr. Muppet sings The Highwayman as wonderfully as ever (it’s his Karaoke thing, you see). The Muppets and Park get me to help on the back-up for Love Shack. BigD sings some Neil Diamond and Rock Star Fran loves the performance but mocks the lyrics, which is as it should be. Rugby hid on the zebra couches hoping that no one would make her sing. Smart girl. One of the highlights was BigD & Rock Star Fran’s duet on You Don’t Send Me Flowers. Such emoting. Such lovely singing. I couldn’t stop cracking up. Buzz and SuperVixen showed up at some point. As did ButtKicker and Chuck. Lots of fun folks. And there was more singing. A bunch of the girls did Faith and Rock Star Fran had to do a lot of voiceover chatter about George Michael’s ass which seemed to be appreciated. Buzz sang me some Britney Spears and my buds actually dedicated quite a few songs to me. Rock Star Fran started to get a little tired and made me join her on Country Roads. The bar was pretty crowded (with at least two other birthday parties) and I felt for their poor little ears at this point. Then, someone not in our group dedicated a song to Amanda “whoever she is”. It was the little guy who was in the bar when I arrived. He just sat at the end of the bar on his little stool singing numbers every now and then all night long. And then ended up dedicating one to me. Cracked me up.
BigD decided to do Satisfaction (I think? - I’d been drinking a lot at this point) as his finale and danced and rocked all around the whole bar. We were all kind of in awe. The whole bar was kind of in awe. And he was pretty wiped out after that. Poor li’l guy. But it was excellent.
Oh, and earlier in the evening ButtKicker had put in The Tide is High under my name. Rock Star Fran promised to sing it for us while we did back up but then she bailed before the song came up. Buzz said he’d do it, but he was lying. So I ended up doing it while ButtKicker and SuperVixen helped me a little bit. Mean. And after that I don’t think any of the rest of us could take it anymore. And the last of the stragglers trotted on home. I got into bed considerably before dawn, but a bit after midnight. Respectable for Day Seven I think. Yes? And despite my little hate of Karaoke I had a really good time.
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
Want to die
Right now I'm so tired I can barely see. I don't think I've had more than about 5 hours of good sleep in a night since early June, if that. I always used to say I'd sleep when I was 30. I apparently lied.
Anyway, LA was awesome, time with Dad was awesome, Ed's Shirt is covered in mud stains and I'm going to steal Turnip's future boyfriend. All is right with the world. I think. I just can't form enough coherent sentences about it. So, today I'm going to surf the net, inhale caffeine and just try to get through the day until I can pass into a coma in my own bed at 9:30PM. Just want to let y'all know I'm alive and plan to catch up on all the day description blog entries by Monday. Oh, wait, no. Going out of town this weekend. Hmmmm... I plan to have them all caught up before my next trip after that which starts on July 15th. Ugh. So tired. No more trips.
Can I please just stay in New York for the entire month of August? Please?
Anyway, LA was awesome, time with Dad was awesome, Ed's Shirt is covered in mud stains and I'm going to steal Turnip's future boyfriend. All is right with the world. I think. I just can't form enough coherent sentences about it. So, today I'm going to surf the net, inhale caffeine and just try to get through the day until I can pass into a coma in my own bed at 9:30PM. Just want to let y'all know I'm alive and plan to catch up on all the day description blog entries by Monday. Oh, wait, no. Going out of town this weekend. Hmmmm... I plan to have them all caught up before my next trip after that which starts on July 15th. Ugh. So tired. No more trips.
Can I please just stay in New York for the entire month of August? Please?
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
I *heart* Daddy
So, Poppy has come for a visit. It's very exciting. Well, not really. But it's fun and it makes me happy.
He was in Indiana for the Grand Prix last weekend (yeah, Daddy went to a race on my Birthday) and decided to swing by New York for a couple days on his way back to Guam, via Hawai'i. The life of a pilot. I kinda want it. So he got here last night. Arrived at Port Authority right about 5:45PM. Not really the best time to be at Port Authority. Oh how I hate the crowds in Manhattan at rush hour. Especially down around 42nd street. I realize I can never live in Jersey now. I hate the PATH and the idea of having to commute through The Port every day makes me break out in hives. I don't think Dad's any more fond of the crowds either. This is the man who stated the whole year and a half he lived here that it was a good thing he didn't own a gun and then would mumble about Bernie Goetz. I think it's just the sheer concentration of people in a small space that leads to the sheer concentration of too many stupid people in a small space. Makes him crazy.
Anyway, we battled through the crowds along 42nd street with his luggage and the rush hour hoards on the F train to make it safely back to my very hot & humid apartment. Because this is apparently the year we're having August in June or something. It's just been too miserable and muggy this month. I lucked into nice weather for the BBQ last weekend. We rested for a bit and let Mom know we made it home. Then off to forage for dinner.
We ended up doing the wine and bread and cheese (and olives and potato salad and hummus and triskets) thing out back. We had a brief bit of sprinkly rain, but it stopped and we were able to eat our stilton & havarti in peace. Then I was forced inside to clean the catbox while Dad enjoyed a post-dinner cigar. Dad has a bit of a phobia about the catbox. Don't know why, but he can't handle it having much in the way of poo in it. I'm starting to suspect that some of my aversion to poo comes from this. I should get a therapist and bring this up. Maybe. Or not.
After that was a lovely walk around the block while we pondered another dinner option for tonight, in case we couldn't get reservations at Grocery. We did get them for 9:30 so that's fine. You don't have to worry. I suspect it'll be drinks at Zombie Hut and then dinner at Grocery. Date night with my Dad. Without the movie.
Then it was just putzing around the apartment. I tidied a little and showered while Dad cleared a backload of email (five days worth!). Good times. I like just hanging with him. We watched the season premier of Monk on TiVo and the scenes of Monk trapped on the subway car kinda made me giggle and think of Dad just a few hours earlier. But I must make clear that Dad did NOT cry on the train. It was also nice to see that they were ACTUALLY on a train to Brooklyn and then in a station in Brooklyn when they were supposed to be in Brooklyn. Though I'm still confused as to how getting stuck back on a Brooklyn bound A train landed Monk in the middle of Times Square.
I felt kinda weird yesterday at work being all excited about my Dad visiting. Lovey lost hers a few years ago and I'd find myself about to say something flip. Then I'd rethink it at the last minute. It just seemed so inappropriate to joke whine about my Pops coming to visit when hers never will. You know? I know she wouldn't think I was trying to be mean or insensitive or anything, but I'd hate making her miss her Dad or anything. I'm just so lucky to have two loving, involved parents who are still alive and frequently visit. That I can just hang around my apartment watching TV and making bad jokes with my Dad. Which is an awesome thing to do.
He was in Indiana for the Grand Prix last weekend (yeah, Daddy went to a race on my Birthday) and decided to swing by New York for a couple days on his way back to Guam, via Hawai'i. The life of a pilot. I kinda want it. So he got here last night. Arrived at Port Authority right about 5:45PM. Not really the best time to be at Port Authority. Oh how I hate the crowds in Manhattan at rush hour. Especially down around 42nd street. I realize I can never live in Jersey now. I hate the PATH and the idea of having to commute through The Port every day makes me break out in hives. I don't think Dad's any more fond of the crowds either. This is the man who stated the whole year and a half he lived here that it was a good thing he didn't own a gun and then would mumble about Bernie Goetz. I think it's just the sheer concentration of people in a small space that leads to the sheer concentration of too many stupid people in a small space. Makes him crazy.
Anyway, we battled through the crowds along 42nd street with his luggage and the rush hour hoards on the F train to make it safely back to my very hot & humid apartment. Because this is apparently the year we're having August in June or something. It's just been too miserable and muggy this month. I lucked into nice weather for the BBQ last weekend. We rested for a bit and let Mom know we made it home. Then off to forage for dinner.
We ended up doing the wine and bread and cheese (and olives and potato salad and hummus and triskets) thing out back. We had a brief bit of sprinkly rain, but it stopped and we were able to eat our stilton & havarti in peace. Then I was forced inside to clean the catbox while Dad enjoyed a post-dinner cigar. Dad has a bit of a phobia about the catbox. Don't know why, but he can't handle it having much in the way of poo in it. I'm starting to suspect that some of my aversion to poo comes from this. I should get a therapist and bring this up. Maybe. Or not.
After that was a lovely walk around the block while we pondered another dinner option for tonight, in case we couldn't get reservations at Grocery. We did get them for 9:30 so that's fine. You don't have to worry. I suspect it'll be drinks at Zombie Hut and then dinner at Grocery. Date night with my Dad. Without the movie.
Then it was just putzing around the apartment. I tidied a little and showered while Dad cleared a backload of email (five days worth!). Good times. I like just hanging with him. We watched the season premier of Monk on TiVo and the scenes of Monk trapped on the subway car kinda made me giggle and think of Dad just a few hours earlier. But I must make clear that Dad did NOT cry on the train. It was also nice to see that they were ACTUALLY on a train to Brooklyn and then in a station in Brooklyn when they were supposed to be in Brooklyn. Though I'm still confused as to how getting stuck back on a Brooklyn bound A train landed Monk in the middle of Times Square.
I felt kinda weird yesterday at work being all excited about my Dad visiting. Lovey lost hers a few years ago and I'd find myself about to say something flip. Then I'd rethink it at the last minute. It just seemed so inappropriate to joke whine about my Pops coming to visit when hers never will. You know? I know she wouldn't think I was trying to be mean or insensitive or anything, but I'd hate making her miss her Dad or anything. I'm just so lucky to have two loving, involved parents who are still alive and frequently visit. That I can just hang around my apartment watching TV and making bad jokes with my Dad. Which is an awesome thing to do.
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
Birthday Week - Day Six
I think next time I have such an extensive Birthday Week I'm just taking the whole week off from work or something. I did have a lovely lunch at Amy's Bread with Rock Star Stan. And then we went to Staples and I bought pens! Because it's Staples and I have to buy something. I'm an office supply whore, you know. I did have a brief panic attack during the day though. Muffy and I put some warm beers in the freezer the previous night to cool them quickly so we could have more of them. Because. We wanted more. And I left them there. I had visions of a lovely glass bottle explosion in my freezer and it made me a little sad. It's a cute little fridge/freezer. White with blue accent colors. Darling thing. I'd hate to abuse it so. With a glass bottle explosion.
Um, yeah. Anyway.
After work Muppet and I headed over to Southside to meet Muffy and Steph for wine, special garlic bread and penne ala vodka. Ah how I love meals at Birthday Week. And oh how I love penne ala vodka. Yummy. I think I babbled on a bit too much during dinner though. I remember me talking lots and everyone else just smile and nodding and thinking, "must humor crazed birthday girl, must humor crazed birthday girl..." Sometimes I think I talk to much. And I probably tell the same stories a thousand times to the same people. I just happen to find me fascinating and don't realize that not everyone finds me quite so fascinating all the time. Ah well. It was my birthday and I had a great time at dinner.
Muppet had an early conference call the next day and took off after dinner. Muffy, Steph and I headed to the theater and caught Saved!. It was pretty awesome. I love when Mandy Moore sensibly plays evil people. And the movie was hysterical. And any hesitations I had over Macaulay Culkin were apparently unfounded. He was pretty funny. And I think I found him almost attractive. I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about that yet. I also had lots of flashbacks to some childhood traumas. Like the time I was saved at some Southern Baptist revival I went to with a little neighborhood girl and her family in North Carolina. Mostly it was playing games and listening to sermons and winning prizes but somehow on the final night I ended up on my knees praying and crying and being saved. Thank goodness that passed by the time I got home. Or at the retreats we had to go to once a year when I went to Jesuit school in Louisiana. I remember one year we had a lot of musical games at the retreat and they played Wilson Phillips "Hold On" for eternity. Ugh. I did not expect Saved! to actually remind me of my life. How wrong. Regardless, the movie was great and we all had fun.
Then we hung out on the subway platform for about seventeen hours, making horrible fun of each other while waiting for the dammed F train to arrive. Piece of crap line.
Anyway, arrived home to find my beer and my fridge in good condition. Yay!
Not very exciting but it is early in the week. I figured the middle Birthday Week events should be quiet ones. So that things like Karaoke and the BBQ can get the energy they deserve.
Um, yeah. Anyway.
After work Muppet and I headed over to Southside to meet Muffy and Steph for wine, special garlic bread and penne ala vodka. Ah how I love meals at Birthday Week. And oh how I love penne ala vodka. Yummy. I think I babbled on a bit too much during dinner though. I remember me talking lots and everyone else just smile and nodding and thinking, "must humor crazed birthday girl, must humor crazed birthday girl..." Sometimes I think I talk to much. And I probably tell the same stories a thousand times to the same people. I just happen to find me fascinating and don't realize that not everyone finds me quite so fascinating all the time. Ah well. It was my birthday and I had a great time at dinner.
Muppet had an early conference call the next day and took off after dinner. Muffy, Steph and I headed to the theater and caught Saved!. It was pretty awesome. I love when Mandy Moore sensibly plays evil people. And the movie was hysterical. And any hesitations I had over Macaulay Culkin were apparently unfounded. He was pretty funny. And I think I found him almost attractive. I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about that yet. I also had lots of flashbacks to some childhood traumas. Like the time I was saved at some Southern Baptist revival I went to with a little neighborhood girl and her family in North Carolina. Mostly it was playing games and listening to sermons and winning prizes but somehow on the final night I ended up on my knees praying and crying and being saved. Thank goodness that passed by the time I got home. Or at the retreats we had to go to once a year when I went to Jesuit school in Louisiana. I remember one year we had a lot of musical games at the retreat and they played Wilson Phillips "Hold On" for eternity. Ugh. I did not expect Saved! to actually remind me of my life. How wrong. Regardless, the movie was great and we all had fun.
Then we hung out on the subway platform for about seventeen hours, making horrible fun of each other while waiting for the dammed F train to arrive. Piece of crap line.
Anyway, arrived home to find my beer and my fridge in good condition. Yay!
Not very exciting but it is early in the week. I figured the middle Birthday Week events should be quiet ones. So that things like Karaoke and the BBQ can get the energy they deserve.
Birthday Week - Day Five
So, got to work again and again with the no worship, adoration or sending me home early. What's up with that? Maybe someone should put a call in to management. Do they not KNOW it's Birthday Week? Things were actually pretty awful at the office with lots of drama, strongly worded emails and meetings. And I was actually the one writing the strongly worded emails and getting people in trouble. Ugh. Whatever. It was a stressful workday and not really one that fit in with Birthday Week. Bad, bad work.
But then I left. And that was glorious.
Headed home to chat with Pumpkin about birthday fun and her life and all that so I wasn't able to tidy in time for Muffy's appearance. It was so hot we turned off all the lights anyway and didn't even have to look at the filth. So that was good. And chatting with Pumpkin is always a joy.
Anyway, Muffy popped by for sofa night after a crappy day at her job. The plan had originally been for a Bring it On/Center Stage DVD double feature. Or at the very least a Charlie's Angels Season One mini-marathon. But since Muffy was the only attendee and we'd been talking about her seeing Sixteen Candles (finally!) we decided to do that. While drinking beer, gabbing and eating lo mein out of the carton. And sweating a lot in the heat and the humidity. It was a pretty awesome time. I'd forgotten how much I loved Sixteen Candles. Muffy had started to watch it on cable earlier in the month and I told her that wasn't allowed as you miss some of the best parts that way. And I think she liked it. Now she can understand all the Long Duck Dong jokes (man, how offensive and sexist and racist and all is this movie, dang) and the Grandparents and the feeling up of the Molly by the Grandma and various jokes of our generation. I'm sure she feels like a better person.
We did have a bit of a spat during the movie though. She doesn't think that Jake Ryan is all that hot. Well, she did appreciate him at the end when he's walking up to the church looking all smokin' and with the Porsche behind him and all. But otherwise I think she kept hoping that Samantha would end up with Farmer Ted. I have no words. JAKE RYAN!!! So hot. Feel free to throw your support behind Jake and I in the comments section. Because, really. Jake Ryan is so hot.
I made her watch the final kissing over the cake scene a couple of times and then sent her on her way home to her air conditioned apartment while I showered off New York grime and sweat and headed to bed.
Good times.
But then I left. And that was glorious.
Headed home to chat with Pumpkin about birthday fun and her life and all that so I wasn't able to tidy in time for Muffy's appearance. It was so hot we turned off all the lights anyway and didn't even have to look at the filth. So that was good. And chatting with Pumpkin is always a joy.
Anyway, Muffy popped by for sofa night after a crappy day at her job. The plan had originally been for a Bring it On/Center Stage DVD double feature. Or at the very least a Charlie's Angels Season One mini-marathon. But since Muffy was the only attendee and we'd been talking about her seeing Sixteen Candles (finally!) we decided to do that. While drinking beer, gabbing and eating lo mein out of the carton. And sweating a lot in the heat and the humidity. It was a pretty awesome time. I'd forgotten how much I loved Sixteen Candles. Muffy had started to watch it on cable earlier in the month and I told her that wasn't allowed as you miss some of the best parts that way. And I think she liked it. Now she can understand all the Long Duck Dong jokes (man, how offensive and sexist and racist and all is this movie, dang) and the Grandparents and the feeling up of the Molly by the Grandma and various jokes of our generation. I'm sure she feels like a better person.
We did have a bit of a spat during the movie though. She doesn't think that Jake Ryan is all that hot. Well, she did appreciate him at the end when he's walking up to the church looking all smokin' and with the Porsche behind him and all. But otherwise I think she kept hoping that Samantha would end up with Farmer Ted. I have no words. JAKE RYAN!!! So hot. Feel free to throw your support behind Jake and I in the comments section. Because, really. Jake Ryan is so hot.
I made her watch the final kissing over the cake scene a couple of times and then sent her on her way home to her air conditioned apartment while I showered off New York grime and sweat and headed to bed.
Good times.
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