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.
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
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.
Monday, June 21, 2004
Reflections on Birthday Week
Celebrating for ten days in a row is exhausting even if there is a scheduled Birthday Week Day of Rest somewhere in there. And even if you have lots of cleaning, cooking, set up, moving and other assorted help from your awesome friends. It still leaves you tired beyond reason.
I have too many good friends that I frankly do not deserve. Friends who will humor me and buy me drinks and help me out with cleaning and moving heavy objects and all of it. And they'll do it even while I'm whining that they're too good to me. And they'll smile while doing it. I mean, Muffy, she came to seven different Birthday Week activities, helped me moved the 'futon' (thanks to you too, Vader), helped me clean my apartment, set up the swing and the hammock with me, arranged my backyard in a pleasing social manner. The woman was out of control. Muppet and her husband dragged themselves to four big events and sang Karaoke and made potato salad. Steph and Muffy loaned me their grill - actually bringing it over, manning it, cleaning it and taking it home. They also bought me a swing. And way too many drinks. And a watering can. And stuff. Other people sang to me at karaoke. They humored my giant ego by telling me I rocked and bought me 'It's All About Me' earrings (thanks Fran!) and came to events and made it all about me. Seriously. It's amazing. And for those who care; Steph came in second with six events. Then the Muppets with four (three for Mr. Muppet). And then Vader, Fran and Charlotte with three. I have to hand out prizes I think. Or owe them all my first born or something. Amazing people, my friends.
Being 30 does not mean that people won't want to sleep with me. Hee. Not that I would ever sleep with someone, Daddy. It's just nice to be wanted. You understand, right?
I'm actually a little freaked out about being 30. I thought that by celebrating it for 10 days and not hiding from it I was all mature and cooler than all the other 30 year olds and whatever and then it was June 19th and I have a little bit of "OH MY GOD I'M THIRTY" going on in the back of my head. It's not overpowering. But it's there. To all my other 30 year old friends, I apologize for any little superior thoughts I had. I am a smug asshole.
Turning 30 is apparently better than having a child turn 30. Thanks for that little bit of perspective, Pops.
Having friends and family humor you and support you as you turn 30 does not mean that they won't mock your sorry ass as you turn 30 and even after you turn 30. And yes. I do mean ALL OF YOU! You mean, wonderful people you.
Backyard parties are excellent. Having a backyard is excellent.
Vodka is excellent.
Your guests DO notice if you go off to try and take a nap in the hammock during a party. But they're polite and don't say anything about it. Though they do keep looking over until you feel bad and join the party again after thirty seconds.
When two of your friends go off to get you birthday cupcakes because they are awesome, it's entirely too easy to convince the rest of the party that they ran back home for a quicky. But then you feel really bad about it when they bring out the cupcakes and sing to you. Have I mentioned how cool my friends are?
Coney Island is a wonderful place.
Ed's Shirt can sometimes try and take over your Birthday Week. But it is only a shirt and so very little effort is required to regain Birthday Week control.
Hangovers are just as annoying at 30 as they are at 22 (when I had my first!!!!).
Mary-Kate and Ashley are just now 18. And I'm 30. I'm very, very old. But no one ever thought I looked kind of monkey-like as a child. I don't think. Mom?
The weather will cooperate when it has to. For Birthday Week. The Yankees will not. But I still love the Yankees.
Turning 30 has not kick-started my biological clock and I still don't want to settle down and do all that stuff. Woo.
I need to listen to more George Michael songs more often.
Jake Ryan is still hot and I don't care what Muffy and Charlotte say.
My coworkers are very strange and they think I'm a bit off as well.
I don't go out enough when it's not Birthday Week and I need to start hanging with my fabulous friends more often.
Socializing causes weight loss as well as being fun.
Okay, I think I've reflected enough. Now I have to get back to writing up the various days of Birthday Week. If I can even remember at this point what happened over the past ten days. Have I mentioned how exhausting Birthday Week is? Have I?
I have too many good friends that I frankly do not deserve. Friends who will humor me and buy me drinks and help me out with cleaning and moving heavy objects and all of it. And they'll do it even while I'm whining that they're too good to me. And they'll smile while doing it. I mean, Muffy, she came to seven different Birthday Week activities, helped me moved the 'futon' (thanks to you too, Vader), helped me clean my apartment, set up the swing and the hammock with me, arranged my backyard in a pleasing social manner. The woman was out of control. Muppet and her husband dragged themselves to four big events and sang Karaoke and made potato salad. Steph and Muffy loaned me their grill - actually bringing it over, manning it, cleaning it and taking it home. They also bought me a swing. And way too many drinks. And a watering can. And stuff. Other people sang to me at karaoke. They humored my giant ego by telling me I rocked and bought me 'It's All About Me' earrings (thanks Fran!) and came to events and made it all about me. Seriously. It's amazing. And for those who care; Steph came in second with six events. Then the Muppets with four (three for Mr. Muppet). And then Vader, Fran and Charlotte with three. I have to hand out prizes I think. Or owe them all my first born or something. Amazing people, my friends.
Being 30 does not mean that people won't want to sleep with me. Hee. Not that I would ever sleep with someone, Daddy. It's just nice to be wanted. You understand, right?
I'm actually a little freaked out about being 30. I thought that by celebrating it for 10 days and not hiding from it I was all mature and cooler than all the other 30 year olds and whatever and then it was June 19th and I have a little bit of "OH MY GOD I'M THIRTY" going on in the back of my head. It's not overpowering. But it's there. To all my other 30 year old friends, I apologize for any little superior thoughts I had. I am a smug asshole.
Turning 30 is apparently better than having a child turn 30. Thanks for that little bit of perspective, Pops.
Having friends and family humor you and support you as you turn 30 does not mean that they won't mock your sorry ass as you turn 30 and even after you turn 30. And yes. I do mean ALL OF YOU! You mean, wonderful people you.
Backyard parties are excellent. Having a backyard is excellent.
Vodka is excellent.
Your guests DO notice if you go off to try and take a nap in the hammock during a party. But they're polite and don't say anything about it. Though they do keep looking over until you feel bad and join the party again after thirty seconds.
When two of your friends go off to get you birthday cupcakes because they are awesome, it's entirely too easy to convince the rest of the party that they ran back home for a quicky. But then you feel really bad about it when they bring out the cupcakes and sing to you. Have I mentioned how cool my friends are?
Coney Island is a wonderful place.
Ed's Shirt can sometimes try and take over your Birthday Week. But it is only a shirt and so very little effort is required to regain Birthday Week control.
Hangovers are just as annoying at 30 as they are at 22 (when I had my first!!!!).
Mary-Kate and Ashley are just now 18. And I'm 30. I'm very, very old. But no one ever thought I looked kind of monkey-like as a child. I don't think. Mom?
The weather will cooperate when it has to. For Birthday Week. The Yankees will not. But I still love the Yankees.
Turning 30 has not kick-started my biological clock and I still don't want to settle down and do all that stuff. Woo.
I need to listen to more George Michael songs more often.
Jake Ryan is still hot and I don't care what Muffy and Charlotte say.
My coworkers are very strange and they think I'm a bit off as well.
I don't go out enough when it's not Birthday Week and I need to start hanging with my fabulous friends more often.
Socializing causes weight loss as well as being fun.
Okay, I think I've reflected enough. Now I have to get back to writing up the various days of Birthday Week. If I can even remember at this point what happened over the past ten days. Have I mentioned how exhausting Birthday Week is? Have I?
Thursday, June 17, 2004
Birthday Week - Day Four
Day Four did not start off well. I got to bed late the night before and then was awakened at 5:30 by evil. And no, I don't mean Steph and his need for dawn.
There are two evil neighborhood cats. I don't know if they're strays or not. There's a third neighborhood cat who is not evil. The evil cats fight a lot, make horrible noises and come to my windows sometimes to whip my little kitties into a frenzy. Monday morning they were at the back window making horrible noises themselves and upsetting my girls and then they started trying to bust through the screen! Trying to get to my girls. I suspect my cats would've won that fight, but I still don't want cat blood and fur all over my home even if it belongs to another cat. So I had to get up and put a stop to all that nonsense. I never really got back to sleep. So the Birthday Week Day of Rest didn't start off so well.
Work wasn't exciting. No one was bowing and worshiping and telling me to go home early for the sake of Birthday Week. Which I found odd. I did manage to get out early enough to run and buy a cheap comforter for the bed. I really couldn't have that ratty old blanket on there with guests coming and all.
Then home to open a couple of the gifts Mom sent me. She wanted to be online when I opened them and I figured I could do a couple of them early. Mom's a total present opener. We joked that if it had been her she would've had everything opened at the UPS store on Sunday upon picking up the box. Me, not so much. I like to savor the gift unwrapping moment. She got me some pretty purple slippers from Hong Kong and a beautiful lacquer barrette with mother of pearl inlay from China. It's so pretty I'm almost afraid to wear it. Maybe on Friday. Though I don't want the drunk people to hurt it. Hmmmm...
Anyway. After that I tried doing a few things around the apartment but mostly decided to embrace the day of rest and then rested.
There are two evil neighborhood cats. I don't know if they're strays or not. There's a third neighborhood cat who is not evil. The evil cats fight a lot, make horrible noises and come to my windows sometimes to whip my little kitties into a frenzy. Monday morning they were at the back window making horrible noises themselves and upsetting my girls and then they started trying to bust through the screen! Trying to get to my girls. I suspect my cats would've won that fight, but I still don't want cat blood and fur all over my home even if it belongs to another cat. So I had to get up and put a stop to all that nonsense. I never really got back to sleep. So the Birthday Week Day of Rest didn't start off so well.
Work wasn't exciting. No one was bowing and worshiping and telling me to go home early for the sake of Birthday Week. Which I found odd. I did manage to get out early enough to run and buy a cheap comforter for the bed. I really couldn't have that ratty old blanket on there with guests coming and all.
Then home to open a couple of the gifts Mom sent me. She wanted to be online when I opened them and I figured I could do a couple of them early. Mom's a total present opener. We joked that if it had been her she would've had everything opened at the UPS store on Sunday upon picking up the box. Me, not so much. I like to savor the gift unwrapping moment. She got me some pretty purple slippers from Hong Kong and a beautiful lacquer barrette with mother of pearl inlay from China. It's so pretty I'm almost afraid to wear it. Maybe on Friday. Though I don't want the drunk people to hurt it. Hmmmm...
Anyway. After that I tried doing a few things around the apartment but mostly decided to embrace the day of rest and then rested.
Heh (Don't read, Daddy)
I'm a 1960s kinda gal. In some ways. I blame being a military child for part of that. Too many tupperware parties and Officers' Wives' Club events in my formative years or something. Ooooh, speaking of... check this out. Hee hee hee.
Seriously, Daddy, stop reading now. Love you!
Anyway, 1960s kinda gal with a splash of the modern skank. Or something. And as such, I, for some reason, had a habit of keeping two condoms and two quarters in all my handbags. This started long before I had a cell phone. Back when I was a little opposed to cell phones. Because I'm weird. Anyway, the habit has sorta fallen off in recent years. I think maybe because of the cell phone. And because I don't carry purses around that often. Though I do use them more in the summer when I don't always have a jacket with pockets upon leaving my apartment. But, I do make sure I have up to date condoms in my travel kit and in my dresser by my bed and somewhere on my person when I hope to get lucky. So I am still safety girl and all. No worries there. I just don't go through all my purses checking for condoms and quarters anymore.
So, this morning I grabbed a purse to bring to Karaoke tonight. I wanted one that sorta matched the outfit and was large enough that I could put Ed's Shirt and all my purse things in it and thus leave the backpack at the office. I was starting to transfer things to it just now when I opened the side pocket And found two quarters, hand lotion, lip balm and, heh, two condoms that expired in June 2001. This amuses me almost as much as COOTER and I have no idea why. Hee. Sorry. Had to share. And now you know that I'm not prepared to get me some booty tonight. Alas.
This entry so isn't going to help my quest for people to find this blog looking for things like 'happy fuzzy puppy bunny flowers' rather than 'topless boys' 'undressed in front of my auntie' and 'my girly parts'.
Seriously, Daddy, stop reading now. Love you!
Anyway, 1960s kinda gal with a splash of the modern skank. Or something. And as such, I, for some reason, had a habit of keeping two condoms and two quarters in all my handbags. This started long before I had a cell phone. Back when I was a little opposed to cell phones. Because I'm weird. Anyway, the habit has sorta fallen off in recent years. I think maybe because of the cell phone. And because I don't carry purses around that often. Though I do use them more in the summer when I don't always have a jacket with pockets upon leaving my apartment. But, I do make sure I have up to date condoms in my travel kit and in my dresser by my bed and somewhere on my person when I hope to get lucky. So I am still safety girl and all. No worries there. I just don't go through all my purses checking for condoms and quarters anymore.
So, this morning I grabbed a purse to bring to Karaoke tonight. I wanted one that sorta matched the outfit and was large enough that I could put Ed's Shirt and all my purse things in it and thus leave the backpack at the office. I was starting to transfer things to it just now when I opened the side pocket And found two quarters, hand lotion, lip balm and, heh, two condoms that expired in June 2001. This amuses me almost as much as COOTER and I have no idea why. Hee. Sorry. Had to share. And now you know that I'm not prepared to get me some booty tonight. Alas.
This entry so isn't going to help my quest for people to find this blog looking for things like 'happy fuzzy puppy bunny flowers' rather than 'topless boys' 'undressed in front of my auntie' and 'my girly parts'.
Birthday Week - Day Three
I had big plans (as I always do) for Sunday morning. Lots of cleaning and errand running and all of that. You can imagine how well that went. I mean, the catbox is still gross and I'm writing this on Day Seven (ACK!!! It's almost over!) of Birthday Week.
Anyway, I did manage to get up and over to my mailbox place by 11AM so I could pick up my hammock and stand as well as my birthday box from Mum and a box of Camp Blood shirts I ordered to make Buzz happy, even though he won't put thongs in the store for me to buy for Mum and I. It was a miserable experience. The box with the stand stuff had opened and so that and the other box were just on the floor of the UPS Store. So I really had to go get them sooner rather than later. And they were long and awkward and no longer rectangular really. So I piled them on the loaner hand truck as best I could and attempted to make my way home. I had to stop every block or so to readjust. I was obviously having a hard time and only ONE person the whole time stopped and asked if I needed help. I was sweating and panting and wanting to cry when I finally got the damn things home. But I got them home and into my hallway and trotted the hand truck on back home to the UPS store. Good times. Then it was off to meet Charlotte at the Big Clock in the Grand Central Terminal (my father would like to make certain you all know it is Grand Central TERMINAL and not Grand Central STATION). I managed to make it in enough time to get our tickets and a bagel before hopping on the train.
The New York Botanical Gardens were lovely. And it was another gorgeous day. It felt a little hotter than the previous day and wasn't quite as sunny but there were nice breezes all day. And it was certainly sunny enough.
We hit the conservatory first. I've been to the gardens tons of times and at least two of those visits were with Charlotte so we could kind of pick and choose what we wanted to see. We were fairly laid back with this visit. I took some pretty flower shots and we made our way to my favorite section of the conservatory - the Carnivorous Plants. I love them. It's a big ole case of all kinds of bug eating plants. So awesome. Even Ed's Shirt made an appearance for those. Because they're so cool. Sadly none of them were digesting any bugs, making it a little less exciting than it could've been. Ah well.
After the conservatory we headed over to the Big Clock in the Garden to wander around the shop. We made fun of hideous $20 cloth flower rings, pondered whether we should purchase Venus Flytraps and sniffed lots of candles. Well, I sniffed them and Charlotte kinda looked at me askance. Then we hopped the tram to the Rose Garden. Which was in full June bloom and lovely. Lots of the orange/pink/yellow roses I love. I think I got more pretty flower pictures. Then it was back to the tram to drive down azalea way (most of the flowers had come and gone, sadly) and end up back at the Big Clock. We wandered around the Rock Garden for a bit with me taking pictures and Charlotte chatting with SABW on her cell. We're hoping Ed's Shirt can go visit her while she's still down in Virginia. Heh. That's funnier for those who know who SABW is; apologizes to the rest of you.
They've added a new visitor's center and snack bar and all since my last trip to the garden so we had to go and check that out. I went straight for an ice cream (it is Birthday Week) while Charlotte pondered a yogurt smoothie. She went for the Haagen-Dazs when she realized it had fewer calories and sugar than the smoothie. Heh. Smart girl. Then off to wait for our train back to town.
It was totally a mellow lazy visit and it was awesome.
I headed home for a nap, some TiVo clearing and net surfing and then back to bed. My lovely lovely bed.
So it was a fabulous kick off to birthday week and I want to thank Muppet, Mr. Muppet, JL, Muffy, Steph, Vader, PimpDaddy, Rock Star Fran and Charlotte for making it so. Y'all rock.
Anyway, I did manage to get up and over to my mailbox place by 11AM so I could pick up my hammock and stand as well as my birthday box from Mum and a box of Camp Blood shirts I ordered to make Buzz happy, even though he won't put thongs in the store for me to buy for Mum and I. It was a miserable experience. The box with the stand stuff had opened and so that and the other box were just on the floor of the UPS Store. So I really had to go get them sooner rather than later. And they were long and awkward and no longer rectangular really. So I piled them on the loaner hand truck as best I could and attempted to make my way home. I had to stop every block or so to readjust. I was obviously having a hard time and only ONE person the whole time stopped and asked if I needed help. I was sweating and panting and wanting to cry when I finally got the damn things home. But I got them home and into my hallway and trotted the hand truck on back home to the UPS store. Good times. Then it was off to meet Charlotte at the Big Clock in the Grand Central Terminal (my father would like to make certain you all know it is Grand Central TERMINAL and not Grand Central STATION). I managed to make it in enough time to get our tickets and a bagel before hopping on the train.
The New York Botanical Gardens were lovely. And it was another gorgeous day. It felt a little hotter than the previous day and wasn't quite as sunny but there were nice breezes all day. And it was certainly sunny enough.
We hit the conservatory first. I've been to the gardens tons of times and at least two of those visits were with Charlotte so we could kind of pick and choose what we wanted to see. We were fairly laid back with this visit. I took some pretty flower shots and we made our way to my favorite section of the conservatory - the Carnivorous Plants. I love them. It's a big ole case of all kinds of bug eating plants. So awesome. Even Ed's Shirt made an appearance for those. Because they're so cool. Sadly none of them were digesting any bugs, making it a little less exciting than it could've been. Ah well.
After the conservatory we headed over to the Big Clock in the Garden to wander around the shop. We made fun of hideous $20 cloth flower rings, pondered whether we should purchase Venus Flytraps and sniffed lots of candles. Well, I sniffed them and Charlotte kinda looked at me askance. Then we hopped the tram to the Rose Garden. Which was in full June bloom and lovely. Lots of the orange/pink/yellow roses I love. I think I got more pretty flower pictures. Then it was back to the tram to drive down azalea way (most of the flowers had come and gone, sadly) and end up back at the Big Clock. We wandered around the Rock Garden for a bit with me taking pictures and Charlotte chatting with SABW on her cell. We're hoping Ed's Shirt can go visit her while she's still down in Virginia. Heh. That's funnier for those who know who SABW is; apologizes to the rest of you.
They've added a new visitor's center and snack bar and all since my last trip to the garden so we had to go and check that out. I went straight for an ice cream (it is Birthday Week) while Charlotte pondered a yogurt smoothie. She went for the Haagen-Dazs when she realized it had fewer calories and sugar than the smoothie. Heh. Smart girl. Then off to wait for our train back to town.
It was totally a mellow lazy visit and it was awesome.
I headed home for a nap, some TiVo clearing and net surfing and then back to bed. My lovely lovely bed.
So it was a fabulous kick off to birthday week and I want to thank Muppet, Mr. Muppet, JL, Muffy, Steph, Vader, PimpDaddy, Rock Star Fran and Charlotte for making it so. Y'all rock.
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Coming to terms with my huge ego
I think about going on a break and all of a sudden my visitor count goes up. Oh, and apparently if you do a google search for “my girly parts” my blog is the 7th option. Ugh.
I’m weak. And just completely self absorbed. So there will probably be more Birthday Week entries soon. Once I'm willing to admit I'm a completely self-absorbed freaknut.
I’m weak. And just completely self absorbed. So there will probably be more Birthday Week entries soon. Once I'm willing to admit I'm a completely self-absorbed freaknut.
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
Hmmmm...
I'm feeling like a bit of a self-absorbed brat right now. Being all obsessed with Birthday Week and job angst and my blog and how clean the catbox is when there are other more important things going on with friends and family and the world at large.
So I think I'm taking a little break from blogging about Birthday Week and job angst and the catbox and Ed's Shirt.
Maybe more updates on Birthday Week or whatever later.
So I think I'm taking a little break from blogging about Birthday Week and job angst and the catbox and Ed's Shirt.
Maybe more updates on Birthday Week or whatever later.
Monday, June 14, 2004
Birthday Week - Day Two
Okay. When we left off, I was going to bed at 5:30 in the AM. THANKS STEPH! Troublemaker.
I sent Vader an email at about 5:15 saying that I was just going to bed now and she could feel free to show up late for Coney Island. Then went to sleep. Well, Yahoo Mail doesn't work the time stamp so well and my phone rang at 9:30 or so. And I cried a little and didn't bother to get it because I think I left the cordless in the bathroom. And I tried to get back to sleep but wasn't so good at it. I finally gave up when Pimp Daddy called around 10:45 to say he was running a bit late or on his way or something. Troublemakers with phones. The whole lot of them.
Anyway. Then Steph calls a little after 11 to tell me they're halfway ready and to see what the departure status is. So I jump in the shower. And Vader arrives right at 11:16 because she's awesome with the promptness and all. So she got to see me answer the door in a towel. Because I am class-ay! Then Pimp Daddy arrived and Vader answered the door (like a good hostess helper) so I could dress before he walked in. Eventually Muffy & Steph joined in and our tired little group headed off to Coney Island.
We had perfect weather. Sunny and warm but with nice breezes and all so we didn't cry from heat or anything. We wandered the boardwalk a little and got Vader a Coney Island t-shirt to change into. Then we headed for Nathan's to get some dogs and cheese fries and drinks. And it was awesome. On the way we got to watch a cute topless boy at the batting cages. Woo. Oh, and we got to check out (but not partake in) Shoot the Freak. Because what's more fun than shooting paint guns at some poor guy dressed in heavy black armor running around a vacant lot? Nothing.
Then it was off to Keyspan Stadium so Muffy & Steph could purchase Cyclones hats and we could cringe every time someone set of the door bell. It was a horrible, horrible noise. The folks who work there should get some kind of workers comp for the damage being done to their eardrums. Poor things. I looked for a t-shirt or hoodie I could love and take home, but alas. Nothing for me.
We did catch a bit of a girls softball game at the little league field nearby. Carmine vs. Our Ladies of Solace. We were rooting for Solace but they didn't seem to be having the greatest of games. Poor things.
A nice long walk down the pier proved uneventful. No one got stuck in the head with a fishhook so hurray! And more boardwalk time while Puerto Rico and African festivities were going on. A moment or two for more topless boy batting cage ogling. Then Steph made us do the race cars. And treated. Which was very, very nice of him. I was having a grand old time until I got stuck behind a very slow girl who couldn't even stay off to the side. Alas.
Then I finally got to play Skee Ball. And it was a Birthday Week Miracle. I LOVE Skee Ball and the machine I picked (#10) happened to be magical. Instead of giving 1 ticket for 90, 150, 200 and so on it would give anywhere from 1 to 4 tickets. And it would often start me at 10 or 20 points rather than 0. I got a nice long run on that puppy before some arcade guy caught on (apparently he didn't feel my big pile o' tickets matched my mad skills even though I'm quite good) and moved me to another machine so he could fix #10. Bad man. Everyone had a bit of a run at Skee Ball but none of them are true devotees so they wondered off to play Ms. PacMan, shoot zombies and box with machines. Good times for all and about 300 tickets amassed. * Woo. So then it was off for funnel cakes (premade and not done right in front of you on the fryer alas) and sitting time. Then we made an AWESOME t-shirt with the five of us; Vader, Pimp Daddy, Muffy, Steph and the birthday girl! It will debut on Saturday and people will fall to their knees in praise of this great shirt.
And after buying this ridiculous shirt we felt we were ready to spend our tickets. It took like 20 minutes to end up with some bead kits to make an I *heart* Eds Shirt necklace and an Amanda bracelet, some mini paper playing cards, two I *heart* you bracelets that we thought were shoelaces, a smiley bubble necklace and a plastic fly. Oh yeah. We go for the quality.
After that it was on to the Wonder Wheel. Woo. We opted for the swinging car. I think I sorta forced everyone into it by saying the stationary car was for pussies. Because I'm mature like that. Actually, I'm five. And we all learned this in line for the Wonder Wheel. Right past the wheel is a ride called the Scooter. And from our place in line you could see signs saying Scooter. But there were trash cans in front of the sign. So it read COOTER. And I kinda lost it. I had to have a picture of it. And then I started laughing hysterically. Because. Well. COOTER. It was awesome. And I'm hardly the only dirty one. We were debating where in the cage to sit, front or back, and Pimp Daddy got the giggles after too much of "Do you like the front?" "Who prefers it in the back?" "I don't care; front, back, whatever." So I'm not alone in my five year old dirty child mind.
Anyway. We make it onto the Wonder Wheel. And the Wonder Wheel cage with two people in it does not slide back and forth nearly as much as it does with FIVE people in it. And then, when Steph decides to start swinging it... well, it slides a lot more then, oddly enough. Muffy and I became big scaredy cats and at some point threatened Steph's life until he stopped. But it was awesome. Totally. And I got to snuggle with some Vader and some Pimp Daddy and that's always a good time. Then the Cyclone. And my wussy ass wouldn't ride it. I think I have to refuse to ride a roller coaster for a long time before I become so ashamed that I just ride the damn thing. I have only refused the Cyclone once before so Saturday was not my shame time yet. Instead I sat with all the bags, drank a diet coke and waited for the best time to get a shot of Ed's Shirt on the coaster. Luckily Muffy and Steph were good enough to get the front car and I think we have an awesome shot.
After that it was time to get daiquiris in giant tacky neon cups. Good times. They're pricey, but you get a free refill. So we walked a few feet away to finish off the first round while enjoying the view before filling back up for the walk to dinner. We went to Totonno's for what is apparently some really awesome pizza. And it was good. And at the pizza place we learned that Muffy thought cooter meant your hick friend. So she wasn't quite in on my madness all day. We got that cleared up though. Oh, and on the way to dinner, by a stroke of pure luck, we spotted Our Ladies of Solace Church. My children will go there. And play on the ball team. Then we headed back to the train for a rousing game of Death is Not an Option. Some gross options. Don't ever play with Pimp Daddy. Though Muffy was the one who brought us "Michael Jackson or Bubbles the Chimp".
Everyone else headed home to recover and treat sunburns and the like. I just dumped my stuff and headed to the Bowery Poetry Club for Rock Star Fran's gig. Apparently Boog City does fundraisers from time to time where they have a bunch of musicians cover one album. Saturday night was Prince's Purple Rain. And Fran was rockin' out on "I Would Die 4 U" and "Baby I'm a Star" She did a good job and had some interesting takes on the songs. The show overall was interesting. I really liked the performance of "Darling Nikki" and mostly liked "Purple Rain". "Computer Blue" and "I Would Die 4 U" were fun covers. But some if it was a bit unPrince like for my tastes. As one of the folks I was standing with said, "Prince is about Sex, not sensitive boy music". And it's true. It just doesn't sound quite right as sensitive boy music. But it was a fun gig and interesting to watch. And it's always good to see Rock Star Fran rock out. Or get goofy. Or both.
There were some poetry readings ahead of time which I wasn't expecting. Not bad, but I was so tired that I don't think most of it registered. One guy kind of upset me at cheering Reagan's death. I don't think the man was a saint and I wasn't upset at the news of his death like some folks at the office, but cheering at it kinda left me a little cold. I don't know. Seems sick. Maybe that's just me. Not quite liberal enough.
Anyway. After the show I hugged Charlotte and BLeia, chatted with Fran and her man a bit and then headed home. To blissful sleep. And so endeth Day Two.
*Apparently I missed a highlight. "One of my favorite moments which Muffy and Amanda missed would be the "Addams Family Electrocute You Game" which Steph took on. There was a crowd of people watching as Steph was able to hold on all the way to the win! The best moment--a little boy became Steph's biggest fan, all agog watching him, and then shyly asking him about the game." - Vader. Hee. So sorry to have missed that.
I sent Vader an email at about 5:15 saying that I was just going to bed now and she could feel free to show up late for Coney Island. Then went to sleep. Well, Yahoo Mail doesn't work the time stamp so well and my phone rang at 9:30 or so. And I cried a little and didn't bother to get it because I think I left the cordless in the bathroom. And I tried to get back to sleep but wasn't so good at it. I finally gave up when Pimp Daddy called around 10:45 to say he was running a bit late or on his way or something. Troublemakers with phones. The whole lot of them.
Anyway. Then Steph calls a little after 11 to tell me they're halfway ready and to see what the departure status is. So I jump in the shower. And Vader arrives right at 11:16 because she's awesome with the promptness and all. So she got to see me answer the door in a towel. Because I am class-ay! Then Pimp Daddy arrived and Vader answered the door (like a good hostess helper) so I could dress before he walked in. Eventually Muffy & Steph joined in and our tired little group headed off to Coney Island.
We had perfect weather. Sunny and warm but with nice breezes and all so we didn't cry from heat or anything. We wandered the boardwalk a little and got Vader a Coney Island t-shirt to change into. Then we headed for Nathan's to get some dogs and cheese fries and drinks. And it was awesome. On the way we got to watch a cute topless boy at the batting cages. Woo. Oh, and we got to check out (but not partake in) Shoot the Freak. Because what's more fun than shooting paint guns at some poor guy dressed in heavy black armor running around a vacant lot? Nothing.
Then it was off to Keyspan Stadium so Muffy & Steph could purchase Cyclones hats and we could cringe every time someone set of the door bell. It was a horrible, horrible noise. The folks who work there should get some kind of workers comp for the damage being done to their eardrums. Poor things. I looked for a t-shirt or hoodie I could love and take home, but alas. Nothing for me.
We did catch a bit of a girls softball game at the little league field nearby. Carmine vs. Our Ladies of Solace. We were rooting for Solace but they didn't seem to be having the greatest of games. Poor things.
A nice long walk down the pier proved uneventful. No one got stuck in the head with a fishhook so hurray! And more boardwalk time while Puerto Rico and African festivities were going on. A moment or two for more topless boy batting cage ogling. Then Steph made us do the race cars. And treated. Which was very, very nice of him. I was having a grand old time until I got stuck behind a very slow girl who couldn't even stay off to the side. Alas.
Then I finally got to play Skee Ball. And it was a Birthday Week Miracle. I LOVE Skee Ball and the machine I picked (#10) happened to be magical. Instead of giving 1 ticket for 90, 150, 200 and so on it would give anywhere from 1 to 4 tickets. And it would often start me at 10 or 20 points rather than 0. I got a nice long run on that puppy before some arcade guy caught on (apparently he didn't feel my big pile o' tickets matched my mad skills even though I'm quite good) and moved me to another machine so he could fix #10. Bad man. Everyone had a bit of a run at Skee Ball but none of them are true devotees so they wondered off to play Ms. PacMan, shoot zombies and box with machines. Good times for all and about 300 tickets amassed. * Woo. So then it was off for funnel cakes (premade and not done right in front of you on the fryer alas) and sitting time. Then we made an AWESOME t-shirt with the five of us; Vader, Pimp Daddy, Muffy, Steph and the birthday girl! It will debut on Saturday and people will fall to their knees in praise of this great shirt.
And after buying this ridiculous shirt we felt we were ready to spend our tickets. It took like 20 minutes to end up with some bead kits to make an I *heart* Eds Shirt necklace and an Amanda bracelet, some mini paper playing cards, two I *heart* you bracelets that we thought were shoelaces, a smiley bubble necklace and a plastic fly. Oh yeah. We go for the quality.
After that it was on to the Wonder Wheel. Woo. We opted for the swinging car. I think I sorta forced everyone into it by saying the stationary car was for pussies. Because I'm mature like that. Actually, I'm five. And we all learned this in line for the Wonder Wheel. Right past the wheel is a ride called the Scooter. And from our place in line you could see signs saying Scooter. But there were trash cans in front of the sign. So it read COOTER. And I kinda lost it. I had to have a picture of it. And then I started laughing hysterically. Because. Well. COOTER. It was awesome. And I'm hardly the only dirty one. We were debating where in the cage to sit, front or back, and Pimp Daddy got the giggles after too much of "Do you like the front?" "Who prefers it in the back?" "I don't care; front, back, whatever." So I'm not alone in my five year old dirty child mind.
Anyway. We make it onto the Wonder Wheel. And the Wonder Wheel cage with two people in it does not slide back and forth nearly as much as it does with FIVE people in it. And then, when Steph decides to start swinging it... well, it slides a lot more then, oddly enough. Muffy and I became big scaredy cats and at some point threatened Steph's life until he stopped. But it was awesome. Totally. And I got to snuggle with some Vader and some Pimp Daddy and that's always a good time. Then the Cyclone. And my wussy ass wouldn't ride it. I think I have to refuse to ride a roller coaster for a long time before I become so ashamed that I just ride the damn thing. I have only refused the Cyclone once before so Saturday was not my shame time yet. Instead I sat with all the bags, drank a diet coke and waited for the best time to get a shot of Ed's Shirt on the coaster. Luckily Muffy and Steph were good enough to get the front car and I think we have an awesome shot.
After that it was time to get daiquiris in giant tacky neon cups. Good times. They're pricey, but you get a free refill. So we walked a few feet away to finish off the first round while enjoying the view before filling back up for the walk to dinner. We went to Totonno's for what is apparently some really awesome pizza. And it was good. And at the pizza place we learned that Muffy thought cooter meant your hick friend. So she wasn't quite in on my madness all day. We got that cleared up though. Oh, and on the way to dinner, by a stroke of pure luck, we spotted Our Ladies of Solace Church. My children will go there. And play on the ball team. Then we headed back to the train for a rousing game of Death is Not an Option. Some gross options. Don't ever play with Pimp Daddy. Though Muffy was the one who brought us "Michael Jackson or Bubbles the Chimp".
Everyone else headed home to recover and treat sunburns and the like. I just dumped my stuff and headed to the Bowery Poetry Club for Rock Star Fran's gig. Apparently Boog City does fundraisers from time to time where they have a bunch of musicians cover one album. Saturday night was Prince's Purple Rain. And Fran was rockin' out on "I Would Die 4 U" and "Baby I'm a Star" She did a good job and had some interesting takes on the songs. The show overall was interesting. I really liked the performance of "Darling Nikki" and mostly liked "Purple Rain". "Computer Blue" and "I Would Die 4 U" were fun covers. But some if it was a bit unPrince like for my tastes. As one of the folks I was standing with said, "Prince is about Sex, not sensitive boy music". And it's true. It just doesn't sound quite right as sensitive boy music. But it was a fun gig and interesting to watch. And it's always good to see Rock Star Fran rock out. Or get goofy. Or both.
There were some poetry readings ahead of time which I wasn't expecting. Not bad, but I was so tired that I don't think most of it registered. One guy kind of upset me at cheering Reagan's death. I don't think the man was a saint and I wasn't upset at the news of his death like some folks at the office, but cheering at it kinda left me a little cold. I don't know. Seems sick. Maybe that's just me. Not quite liberal enough.
Anyway. After the show I hugged Charlotte and BLeia, chatted with Fran and her man a bit and then headed home. To blissful sleep. And so endeth Day Two.
*Apparently I missed a highlight. "One of my favorite moments which Muffy and Amanda missed would be the "Addams Family Electrocute You Game" which Steph took on. There was a crowd of people watching as Steph was able to hold on all the way to the win! The best moment--a little boy became Steph's biggest fan, all agog watching him, and then shyly asking him about the game." - Vader. Hee. So sorry to have missed that.
Birthday Week - Day One
Birthday Week is exhausting. But awesome.
Because of Reagan's Funeral on Friday, the markets were closed. And when the markets are closed, my office is closed. Sadly this doesn't happen enough. The markets closing, not presidents dying. I'm okay if they don't die that often. Dying upsets me. Um, yeah.
So, Birthday Week started with a day off. Which was a great idea, I think. I had all kinds of grand plans about getting up at 8 and cleaning my entire apartment before 5. But, if any of you know me, you know that didn't happen. I was up before 10. I did get some cleaning done. Crossed a couple things off the ole to do list. And that was good. But the apartment is still a pit. Ah well.
I eventually showered and suited up (my Bernie jersey and Yankees cap and blue & white sneakers) and headed on out to the 4 train. By some strange Birthday Week coincidence Muppet and Mr. Muppet managed to get on the same car of the same train somewhere around 42nd street or Union Square. So I scared the crap out of Muppet by hugging her from behind ("You do not sneak up behind someone and hug them on the train!"), giving up my seat in the process. I sacrifice, she yells. My life is very hard. We got to the stadium and headed to the Big Bat to wait for Muffy, Steph and LJ. Took them no time at all to arrive and we headed in. Where the good Birthday Week luck just decided to laugh loudly and run away. Steph got denied entrance with his bag (which was smaller than the purse that walked in right ahead of him) so he and Muffy had to wander off and try another entrance, with her holding the bag and us taking her actual bag. Yankee stadium is as sexist about terrorists as anywhere else and is 98% more likely to let in a girl with a giant bag than a boy with a tiny man purse. Just so you know.
As the rest of us headed to our seats, Muppet and Mr. Muppet asked me why I got non-alcoholic seats. I thought they were kidding. When I Ordered the tickets ONLINE I was not told they were in the non-alcoholic section! No, I was not. I would've remembered this. I would rather sit in the farthest reaches of the stadium than sit in a non-alcoholic section. A strongly worded letter is going to be written by me this week. Count on that. But, there was nothing we could do at that point but try and sneak beer. Little did we know. We had not yet seen The Beer Nazi in her khaki shorts and sassy yellow STAFF polo. Woe unto us.
I went off to get beer and dogs and pretzels while LJ watched the seats. And then the game started. As I stood in the longest line ever (yeah, our counter person wandered off to count her cash drawer midway through my line's forward progression) A-Rod hit his homer. Really, about the only good play from the Yankees that game. When asked why he didn't come rescue me after others came back to the seats, LJ told me the game had started. Putz. He was obviously not comprehending this idea of Birthday Week. He will pay. Anyway. I came back to the seats and spent the evening watching the Yankees play like a bunch of girls while my companions (a Mets fan, two Red Sox fans, a Padres fan and a Marlins fan) cheer gleefully, all the while getting yelled at by and trying to hide from the Beer Nazi. This woman was having fits whenever she caught someone in the section with beer. Actual fits. Her eyes sometimes bugged out.
She came to our row at one point but was not able to catch us. We were sneaky. At first. But, unlike what usually happens, we did not get more invisible the more beer we drank. Muffy got sodas so we could hide beer in the soda cups. But the Beer Nazi saw Steph with actual beer cups and while yelling at him was able to see my soda cup with beer. Dammit. So we were sent off to the entrance to chug our beers. So we chugged. And then we came back.
And for some reason Steph and Mr. Muppet still had beer when they came back. So she yelled and threatened to throw us all out of the stadium if she caught us with beer again. It was all just ridiculous. And frustrating. A girl needs a beer when watching a game where the Padres beat the Yankees 10-2. Really. But we managed to have fun and the Padres fan was very happy. And Ed's Shirt got to grace another torso and see Yankee Stadium and all, so that was a treat. And we did get to see the Beer Nazi throw out some folks for drinking beer somewhere around the 8th or 9th Inning.
After the game, Muppet wanted to know if we were all going out for a drink. After about the 17th time she asked we all kinda clued in that she wanted to go out for drinks. As LJ had to catch the LIRR home at SOME point we ended up at a Playwright Tavern (there are many all over Manhattan) near Penn Station. After about a million $3 Miller Lites and a round of Car Bombs (and Scotch for LJ) and some strange conversation and threats of Trivial Pursuit throw downs and photos of Ed's Shirt and a Padres hat and befriending some man named Mark (or Martin) it was somehow after 3AM and LJ had left us. In fact, I think the bar was technically closed because they were finally letting our posse smoke in the back room. And the front door was locked and all. At this point I had also been whining about leaving for an hour and I was finally allowed to go home. There was a small incident with Ed's Shirt in the train station that I'm sure you'll hear about in its blog, and then we were on the F train. And Steph was blathering about staying up until dawn. Because he is a dumbass. He kept insisting we were going to a diner and seeing the dawn. He can be a bit stubborn when he's been drinking and Muffy and I are dumbasses as well so we went along with him.
We wrapped up the evening/morning with Grilled Cheese sandwiches (which tasted so good) and french fries in a Smith Street diner. And we came out and it was light. And the birds were chirping. And I wanted to kinda cry a little. Steph babbled about seeing the bright shiny orb. Muffy and I told him to go to hell because we were going to BED. And he followed along like a good man. Finally.
I got home, sent some babbling emails letting people know that if they were running late getting to my place for the Coney Island trip, that would be excellent. And then I passed out about 5:30AM. Ending Day One. A very, very long, but AWESOME Day One.
Because of Reagan's Funeral on Friday, the markets were closed. And when the markets are closed, my office is closed. Sadly this doesn't happen enough. The markets closing, not presidents dying. I'm okay if they don't die that often. Dying upsets me. Um, yeah.
So, Birthday Week started with a day off. Which was a great idea, I think. I had all kinds of grand plans about getting up at 8 and cleaning my entire apartment before 5. But, if any of you know me, you know that didn't happen. I was up before 10. I did get some cleaning done. Crossed a couple things off the ole to do list. And that was good. But the apartment is still a pit. Ah well.
I eventually showered and suited up (my Bernie jersey and Yankees cap and blue & white sneakers) and headed on out to the 4 train. By some strange Birthday Week coincidence Muppet and Mr. Muppet managed to get on the same car of the same train somewhere around 42nd street or Union Square. So I scared the crap out of Muppet by hugging her from behind ("You do not sneak up behind someone and hug them on the train!"), giving up my seat in the process. I sacrifice, she yells. My life is very hard. We got to the stadium and headed to the Big Bat to wait for Muffy, Steph and LJ. Took them no time at all to arrive and we headed in. Where the good Birthday Week luck just decided to laugh loudly and run away. Steph got denied entrance with his bag (which was smaller than the purse that walked in right ahead of him) so he and Muffy had to wander off and try another entrance, with her holding the bag and us taking her actual bag. Yankee stadium is as sexist about terrorists as anywhere else and is 98% more likely to let in a girl with a giant bag than a boy with a tiny man purse. Just so you know.
As the rest of us headed to our seats, Muppet and Mr. Muppet asked me why I got non-alcoholic seats. I thought they were kidding. When I Ordered the tickets ONLINE I was not told they were in the non-alcoholic section! No, I was not. I would've remembered this. I would rather sit in the farthest reaches of the stadium than sit in a non-alcoholic section. A strongly worded letter is going to be written by me this week. Count on that. But, there was nothing we could do at that point but try and sneak beer. Little did we know. We had not yet seen The Beer Nazi in her khaki shorts and sassy yellow STAFF polo. Woe unto us.
I went off to get beer and dogs and pretzels while LJ watched the seats. And then the game started. As I stood in the longest line ever (yeah, our counter person wandered off to count her cash drawer midway through my line's forward progression) A-Rod hit his homer. Really, about the only good play from the Yankees that game. When asked why he didn't come rescue me after others came back to the seats, LJ told me the game had started. Putz. He was obviously not comprehending this idea of Birthday Week. He will pay. Anyway. I came back to the seats and spent the evening watching the Yankees play like a bunch of girls while my companions (a Mets fan, two Red Sox fans, a Padres fan and a Marlins fan) cheer gleefully, all the while getting yelled at by and trying to hide from the Beer Nazi. This woman was having fits whenever she caught someone in the section with beer. Actual fits. Her eyes sometimes bugged out.
She came to our row at one point but was not able to catch us. We were sneaky. At first. But, unlike what usually happens, we did not get more invisible the more beer we drank. Muffy got sodas so we could hide beer in the soda cups. But the Beer Nazi saw Steph with actual beer cups and while yelling at him was able to see my soda cup with beer. Dammit. So we were sent off to the entrance to chug our beers. So we chugged. And then we came back.
And for some reason Steph and Mr. Muppet still had beer when they came back. So she yelled and threatened to throw us all out of the stadium if she caught us with beer again. It was all just ridiculous. And frustrating. A girl needs a beer when watching a game where the Padres beat the Yankees 10-2. Really. But we managed to have fun and the Padres fan was very happy. And Ed's Shirt got to grace another torso and see Yankee Stadium and all, so that was a treat. And we did get to see the Beer Nazi throw out some folks for drinking beer somewhere around the 8th or 9th Inning.
After the game, Muppet wanted to know if we were all going out for a drink. After about the 17th time she asked we all kinda clued in that she wanted to go out for drinks. As LJ had to catch the LIRR home at SOME point we ended up at a Playwright Tavern (there are many all over Manhattan) near Penn Station. After about a million $3 Miller Lites and a round of Car Bombs (and Scotch for LJ) and some strange conversation and threats of Trivial Pursuit throw downs and photos of Ed's Shirt and a Padres hat and befriending some man named Mark (or Martin) it was somehow after 3AM and LJ had left us. In fact, I think the bar was technically closed because they were finally letting our posse smoke in the back room. And the front door was locked and all. At this point I had also been whining about leaving for an hour and I was finally allowed to go home. There was a small incident with Ed's Shirt in the train station that I'm sure you'll hear about in its blog, and then we were on the F train. And Steph was blathering about staying up until dawn. Because he is a dumbass. He kept insisting we were going to a diner and seeing the dawn. He can be a bit stubborn when he's been drinking and Muffy and I are dumbasses as well so we went along with him.
We wrapped up the evening/morning with Grilled Cheese sandwiches (which tasted so good) and french fries in a Smith Street diner. And we came out and it was light. And the birds were chirping. And I wanted to kinda cry a little. Steph babbled about seeing the bright shiny orb. Muffy and I told him to go to hell because we were going to BED. And he followed along like a good man. Finally.
I got home, sent some babbling emails letting people know that if they were running late getting to my place for the Coney Island trip, that would be excellent. And then I passed out about 5:30AM. Ending Day One. A very, very long, but AWESOME Day One.
Wednesday, June 09, 2004
Go Yankees!
The lovely Iolanthe took me to a Yankees game last night for my birthday, as sort of a pre-Birthday Week kick off event. I have now decided I need to find a wealthy Yankees fan and latch on to them for life. Her boss has awesome season tickets and gives them out to clients and folks in his office when he doesn't use them. Right behind home plate. I have never seen my boys so close up before. It's so much fun to see a game all the way down there. I'm going to just cry on Friday when we're all up in the nosebleed seats. At least we'll have beer then.
Yeah, last night was my first Yankees game ever without beer. We were in the middle of our section and could not get an order taker's attention to save our souls. Finally we got one at the end of the 6th inning. She tried telling us that we weren't in her section but when we almost cried she agreed to take our order. And we paid her. And we got our little ticket. And our food & beer NEVER came. Some asshole behind us was giving us a hard time and being a jackass and we suspect he took our food when his order was delivered. Just because he's evil and all. So, after the game, Iolanthe and I started the quest for some whining and our refund. We talked to an usher type who told us to wait and he'd get someone for us. Eventually he sent us to the gate to speak to a supervisor. Who took us through the crowd to one of the kitchens. Then we fought the crowd again as he took us upstairs to another kitchen. Then he left us there in someone else's hands. This guy made a couple calls and then sent us off with someone else to a third kitchen where some guy had us wait while he ran off elsewhere to get our $33. We would have preferred it if our food had just been delivered. And our beer. Well, my beer. Friday there will be much beer.
The game was a fun one though. Not too exciting, but not dull. And the Yankees won. Of course. And Iolanthe and I had a nice time gossiping and catching up. The guys next to us were very sweet. They went for beers and offered to pick stuff up for us if we wanted. But we thought we were getting food soon and turned them down. Foolish of us. Oh, and Steve Schirripa (Bobby 'Bacala' Baccalieri from the Sopranos) was there and sitting near us. Because we were that close to the field. Seriously. Do any of you know really wealthy Yankees fans whom I can leach onto? Hook me up. Help a girl out.
Yeah, last night was my first Yankees game ever without beer. We were in the middle of our section and could not get an order taker's attention to save our souls. Finally we got one at the end of the 6th inning. She tried telling us that we weren't in her section but when we almost cried she agreed to take our order. And we paid her. And we got our little ticket. And our food & beer NEVER came. Some asshole behind us was giving us a hard time and being a jackass and we suspect he took our food when his order was delivered. Just because he's evil and all. So, after the game, Iolanthe and I started the quest for some whining and our refund. We talked to an usher type who told us to wait and he'd get someone for us. Eventually he sent us to the gate to speak to a supervisor. Who took us through the crowd to one of the kitchens. Then we fought the crowd again as he took us upstairs to another kitchen. Then he left us there in someone else's hands. This guy made a couple calls and then sent us off with someone else to a third kitchen where some guy had us wait while he ran off elsewhere to get our $33. We would have preferred it if our food had just been delivered. And our beer. Well, my beer. Friday there will be much beer.
The game was a fun one though. Not too exciting, but not dull. And the Yankees won. Of course. And Iolanthe and I had a nice time gossiping and catching up. The guys next to us were very sweet. They went for beers and offered to pick stuff up for us if we wanted. But we thought we were getting food soon and turned them down. Foolish of us. Oh, and Steve Schirripa (Bobby 'Bacala' Baccalieri from the Sopranos) was there and sitting near us. Because we were that close to the field. Seriously. Do any of you know really wealthy Yankees fans whom I can leach onto? Hook me up. Help a girl out.
Tuesday, June 08, 2004
Fight!
Class was AWESOME today. I learned a new wrist snapping trick and totally beat up on someone and the instructor kept telling me I was doing a great job at blocking counter kicks and it was so AWESOME. And my right punch is getting good though my left punch is kinda wussy. And going on about stuff like this is partially why no one will fight me, isn't it? Dammit. No one would fight me at reunion last month. I tried. So unfair. People are just wussies. Though I guess it did not help that I accidentally hurt Pumpkin while showing her a move. I didn't seriously hurt her or anything because she's a tough chica, but I still felt like an ass. And so, I'm not demonstrating any more moves on anyone anymore. But I will fight people. If they would just agree to it. Maybe I should troll bad neighborhoods late at night. Then I could get my ass thoroughly kicked and could finally shut up about my bad ass moves. It might be best for everyone.
Yeah. I'm going to go get lunch now so I can calm my ass down.
And tonight. The Yankees! Yay! I love Pre-Birthday Week!
Yeah. I'm going to go get lunch now so I can calm my ass down.
And tonight. The Yankees! Yay! I love Pre-Birthday Week!
Job Search
I'm often amazed at people who don't know how to do things for themselves. Like people who get all turned around and confused while traveling. They can't seem to do it without a tour group or companion or something. Or people in college who couldn't balance their checkbook. Or people who can't do their own taxes even when they qualify for the EZ form. But really, I shouldn't mock. Because I frankly have no idea about how to look for a job. I sorta know how to write a resume. But that's about it.
I can find a temp gig without a problem. Auditions. That's easy. But job hunting, not so much. I've never really had to do it. Babysitting jobs just found me, what with living on an Air Force Base and all. Lots of kids and such. Then that job as a Continental Go-Getter. I think Dad read about it, brought me an application and viola! I had a job. Then it was temping. Which is so easy to get. Then I came to New York to be an ACTRESS! And we see how well that worked. But no job hunting at the end of college was required. I was just coming to the big city. I'd temp for a couple of years and by then I'd be making a living with acting. Pah!
And this job. I was just a temp and after about two years of refusing all their attempts to hire me full time, I caved. They offered me money and stuff and the acting thing was going nowhere so why not. There were opportunities for education and promotion and it was kind of interesting and then there was the money.
But then things went bad and layoffs became more common than promotions and somehow I got stuck with a group that would rather cut off limbs than promote me out of my current position. I really believe my current bosses would rather fire me than promote me out of my current position. So I developed a bad attitude. I 'embraced the apathy'. And here I am, about to turn 30, in a crappy job that I hate (but doesn't actually pay me too poorly) with no prospects for a real career or promotion or anything. And no huge desire to go back to ACTING as a career (though I really should take it back up as a hobby). And no idea of what I might want to do.
But, I've got to do something. I have to figure out what I want to do. And start looking to see what's out there. I've got to brush up the resume. Start thinking about how much of a pay cut I'd be willing to take in order to have a job that really meant something to me. And I've got to do it soon. I can't start 2005 still in this godforsaken place where they now act as if I barely finished high school.
Any help or advice is welcome. But I sorta gotta figure it out on my own for the most part. Ugh.
I can find a temp gig without a problem. Auditions. That's easy. But job hunting, not so much. I've never really had to do it. Babysitting jobs just found me, what with living on an Air Force Base and all. Lots of kids and such. Then that job as a Continental Go-Getter. I think Dad read about it, brought me an application and viola! I had a job. Then it was temping. Which is so easy to get. Then I came to New York to be an ACTRESS! And we see how well that worked. But no job hunting at the end of college was required. I was just coming to the big city. I'd temp for a couple of years and by then I'd be making a living with acting. Pah!
And this job. I was just a temp and after about two years of refusing all their attempts to hire me full time, I caved. They offered me money and stuff and the acting thing was going nowhere so why not. There were opportunities for education and promotion and it was kind of interesting and then there was the money.
But then things went bad and layoffs became more common than promotions and somehow I got stuck with a group that would rather cut off limbs than promote me out of my current position. I really believe my current bosses would rather fire me than promote me out of my current position. So I developed a bad attitude. I 'embraced the apathy'. And here I am, about to turn 30, in a crappy job that I hate (but doesn't actually pay me too poorly) with no prospects for a real career or promotion or anything. And no huge desire to go back to ACTING as a career (though I really should take it back up as a hobby). And no idea of what I might want to do.
But, I've got to do something. I have to figure out what I want to do. And start looking to see what's out there. I've got to brush up the resume. Start thinking about how much of a pay cut I'd be willing to take in order to have a job that really meant something to me. And I've got to do it soon. I can't start 2005 still in this godforsaken place where they now act as if I barely finished high school.
Any help or advice is welcome. But I sorta gotta figure it out on my own for the most part. Ugh.
Monday, June 07, 2004
Oops
Totally forgot to take a moment to tell everyone in the world (or the three people who read this) how very, very awesome Muffy & Steph are. These darling people took me to Lowe's and bought me a porch swing and a watering can and some other items to help my the Big Backyard BBQ an event to remember. Yay! It's an excellent porch swing. After assembling it yesterday, Muffy and I tested it out with some beers and some chillin' and a good time was had despite the weather. So, Muffy & Steph rule. Y'all totally get as much swing sitting time as you want at the BBQ. Well, as long as the birthday girl doesn't want to sit in it.
BREAK OUT!
Today is not a pretty day. I feel all puffy from the sinus thing. And apparently my face has decided that it's 'embrace acne' day or something. So many little red pimples all over my face that I just want to cry. Because if I can't look pretty. What's the point in going on? Really. I hope my body is just trying to get this all out of it's system so I can look pretty and be healthy for birthday week. Otherwise. I just don't know.
I'm trying to decide what booze to have at the BBQ. I have good scotch, whiskey and bourbon and am trying to decide if I need lesser quality scotch, whiskey and bourbon for the tacky BBQ set. I do have enough tequila, vodka, rum, gin and Kahulua I think. And am not sure what else I need. I have some beer and cider and figure people can bring stuff. I really don't need to go booze shopping at this point, right? And if people want more beer it's not like there aren't tons of options within a block of my pad. Ah, see. Blog decision making.
I'm so Birthday Week obsessed. I pity anyone who comes in contact with me between now and the 11th.
Of course now, I'm worried about feeding people. Fuck it. I don't care. I'm going to have fun and not worry about it.
So, that's done. And now this blog entry is too boring for words. Leave now. And go buy Ed's Shirts Shirts!
I'm trying to decide what booze to have at the BBQ. I have good scotch, whiskey and bourbon and am trying to decide if I need lesser quality scotch, whiskey and bourbon for the tacky BBQ set. I do have enough tequila, vodka, rum, gin and Kahulua I think. And am not sure what else I need. I have some beer and cider and figure people can bring stuff. I really don't need to go booze shopping at this point, right? And if people want more beer it's not like there aren't tons of options within a block of my pad. Ah, see. Blog decision making.
I'm so Birthday Week obsessed. I pity anyone who comes in contact with me between now and the 11th.
Of course now, I'm worried about feeding people. Fuck it. I don't care. I'm going to have fun and not worry about it.
So, that's done. And now this blog entry is too boring for words. Leave now. And go buy Ed's Shirts Shirts!
Saturday, June 05, 2004
Sinuses suck
Ugh. I have a sinus thing. I feel like poo. I'm totally stuffed up. And I have three million things to do for birthday week as well as a birthday party to go to. So annoying. I'm about three hours behind where I want to be. SUCKS.
But, I have drugged myself, packed some kleenex an am off to get the flamingos. And then some birthday gifts. And maybe a comforter. And maybe a swing for the backyard. I think this afternoon will be 'light' cleaning and tomorrow will have to be the heavy duty stuff. Ugh.
All I really want to do is lie on the couch and watch TV while my Mommy brings me 7-up and grilled cheese and tomato soup. Dammit.
Ah well, I'm sucking it up and am off to get the flamingos. Let's keep our fingers crossed that this is a VERY short lived sinus thing. I think it's Poodle's fault. Bad disease bringing houseguest. OR maybe the futon made me ill. It's possible. Hmmmm.
Yeah, I'm delirious. Ugh.
But, I have drugged myself, packed some kleenex an am off to get the flamingos. And then some birthday gifts. And maybe a comforter. And maybe a swing for the backyard. I think this afternoon will be 'light' cleaning and tomorrow will have to be the heavy duty stuff. Ugh.
All I really want to do is lie on the couch and watch TV while my Mommy brings me 7-up and grilled cheese and tomato soup. Dammit.
Ah well, I'm sucking it up and am off to get the flamingos. Let's keep our fingers crossed that this is a VERY short lived sinus thing. I think it's Poodle's fault. Bad disease bringing houseguest. OR maybe the futon made me ill. It's possible. Hmmmm.
Yeah, I'm delirious. Ugh.
Friday, June 04, 2004
Grrls Rock
Vader and Muffy are the coolest chicas on the planet and I adore them. They helped me get rid of the body, yo! Oops, did I just break the blood oath? Um... it wasn't a body, really, it was, um, a futon. Yes. A futon.
See, Muffy and Vader came over last night. First Muffy took charge and was all super garden gal and we planted my three azalea bushes. Apparently I have worms and great soil so that rocks. But there are weeds and grubs and that doesn't rock. But the bushes are now planted and I watered them this morning and we're keeping our fingers crossed. If they work out I'm going to trick Muffy into coming over lots to garden with me until I think I can do it on my own. There might be flower beds soon. Maybe an herb garden as I love fresh rosemary, basil and dill. But we'll see. Let's make certain I don't kill the azaleas first. And of course room needs to be left for the hammock and the flamingo.
After that we suited up to get rid of the 'futon'. Yes, the 'futon'. When I moved into this apartment Mom came and helped and was awesome. And then Dad joined us for the unpacking and the settling in. They were amazing. We even got a U-Haul and headed off to Ikea. Where I got a sofa bed that I liked. So the 'futon' became unnecessary. Rather than kicking it to the curb at that time, Mom thought we could put it out back and make it weather proof. Well, before we could figure out how to do that, the first rains came. And then the snow. So, a year and a half of weather turned the 'futon' into a horrible, horrible thing. And with the big backyard party coming up, it had to be gotten rid of. Taken care of. Taken out. Um, to the curb.
I didn't even realize how gross it had gotten. It was waterlogged and had at least two snails and two slugs on it as well as spiders and things. And did I mention that plant life was GROWING out of it? Yeah. Ew.
So, we tossed on some garbage bag dresses and went to work (the photos are EXCELLENT). Muffy was brilliant and came up with the idea of tying rope around the 'futon' mattress to keep it folded and give it handles. And to keep anything, um, inside it from falling out. And so we lugged that puppy through my apartment and out to the curb. Where I almost threw up at the grossness. We got the grossness all over our legs and shoes and ew. Ew. Ew. Then we had to lug out the lighter, but just as hard to maneuver, frame. Which we did. While injuring Vader's hand badly. Then we washed up a little, Bactined and iced Vader's hand and I moped up the slime trail from the futon. Then we discussed possibility of The Thunder From Down Under in Atlantic City before Vader had to flee and take care of Taylor's dog. So Muffy and I had a beer before she took her smelly slime-covered self back home to her honey.
Now I owe them my first born or something. But until then, I just want everyone to know that they are the best women I know. Yay!
The 'futon' was still out there when I left so I'm not certain it's gone from my life, but let's hope the sanitation guys took care of it for me. Otherwise Vader's injury and all my aches and bruises might've been for naught. Class is going to HURT today. Dammit. I'll be lucky if I can do one push up with the way my arms feel right now. I may try and go early to stretch a lot if I can.
See, Muffy and Vader came over last night. First Muffy took charge and was all super garden gal and we planted my three azalea bushes. Apparently I have worms and great soil so that rocks. But there are weeds and grubs and that doesn't rock. But the bushes are now planted and I watered them this morning and we're keeping our fingers crossed. If they work out I'm going to trick Muffy into coming over lots to garden with me until I think I can do it on my own. There might be flower beds soon. Maybe an herb garden as I love fresh rosemary, basil and dill. But we'll see. Let's make certain I don't kill the azaleas first. And of course room needs to be left for the hammock and the flamingo.
After that we suited up to get rid of the 'futon'. Yes, the 'futon'. When I moved into this apartment Mom came and helped and was awesome. And then Dad joined us for the unpacking and the settling in. They were amazing. We even got a U-Haul and headed off to Ikea. Where I got a sofa bed that I liked. So the 'futon' became unnecessary. Rather than kicking it to the curb at that time, Mom thought we could put it out back and make it weather proof. Well, before we could figure out how to do that, the first rains came. And then the snow. So, a year and a half of weather turned the 'futon' into a horrible, horrible thing. And with the big backyard party coming up, it had to be gotten rid of. Taken care of. Taken out. Um, to the curb.
I didn't even realize how gross it had gotten. It was waterlogged and had at least two snails and two slugs on it as well as spiders and things. And did I mention that plant life was GROWING out of it? Yeah. Ew.
So, we tossed on some garbage bag dresses and went to work (the photos are EXCELLENT). Muffy was brilliant and came up with the idea of tying rope around the 'futon' mattress to keep it folded and give it handles. And to keep anything, um, inside it from falling out. And so we lugged that puppy through my apartment and out to the curb. Where I almost threw up at the grossness. We got the grossness all over our legs and shoes and ew. Ew. Ew. Then we had to lug out the lighter, but just as hard to maneuver, frame. Which we did. While injuring Vader's hand badly. Then we washed up a little, Bactined and iced Vader's hand and I moped up the slime trail from the futon. Then we discussed possibility of The Thunder From Down Under in Atlantic City before Vader had to flee and take care of Taylor's dog. So Muffy and I had a beer before she took her smelly slime-covered self back home to her honey.
Now I owe them my first born or something. But until then, I just want everyone to know that they are the best women I know. Yay!
The 'futon' was still out there when I left so I'm not certain it's gone from my life, but let's hope the sanitation guys took care of it for me. Otherwise Vader's injury and all my aches and bruises might've been for naught. Class is going to HURT today. Dammit. I'll be lucky if I can do one push up with the way my arms feel right now. I may try and go early to stretch a lot if I can.
Thursday, June 03, 2004
Vagina Free
Okay, now that that's out of my system.
Yesterday was lovely. I did lots of fun Birthday Week planning things. I made a little note for my neighbors warning them about and inviting them to the big BBQ. Because it's the nice thing to do. I put that up this morning. Hopefully the party won't annoy them beyond reason. Though I still think my upstairs neighbor is not going to enjoy the hammock and flamingo. She seems anti tacky. Ah well. Maybe she'll be amused and the azalea's will placate her or something. Whatever. It's MY yard. Yesterday, I also become a compulsive evite checker. Whoa to the person who has viewed my evite and NOT responded. You will feel my wrath. Or not.
Last night a friend crashed at my place so we decided to go out for Japanese with Muffy and Steph. Steph looked like he wanted to nap the whole time but we all had fun. And they ate more sushi than I could believe. I was just happy with my tempura and my avocado role. And sake and dessert. Yum. Plus we had a lovely discussion involving thong vs. g-string vs. full size, drugs, buying vs. renting, people we dislike, the inappropriateness of my blog, coworkers, Ed's Shirt and all sorts of other good things. I like having interesting friends.
Then some lightbulb changing, cat torturing and a brief discussion on the Thunder from Down Under before bed. June is the best month in the 2004 calendar. And oooh, they updated the webpage. Oh my god. The thunder will be in Atlantic City during BIRTHDAY WEEK!!!! Is it too late to revamp and plan a Birthday Week trip to AC? Hmmmmm.... Oh dear. I may have to spend the rest of the afternoon reviewing the updated webpage. My stripper fake boyfriend is still so hot.
Keep your fingers crossed that it doesn't rain tonight so I can get my ratty old futon to the curb for trash day and plant some bushes. Hot times.
Yesterday was lovely. I did lots of fun Birthday Week planning things. I made a little note for my neighbors warning them about and inviting them to the big BBQ. Because it's the nice thing to do. I put that up this morning. Hopefully the party won't annoy them beyond reason. Though I still think my upstairs neighbor is not going to enjoy the hammock and flamingo. She seems anti tacky. Ah well. Maybe she'll be amused and the azalea's will placate her or something. Whatever. It's MY yard. Yesterday, I also become a compulsive evite checker. Whoa to the person who has viewed my evite and NOT responded. You will feel my wrath. Or not.
Last night a friend crashed at my place so we decided to go out for Japanese with Muffy and Steph. Steph looked like he wanted to nap the whole time but we all had fun. And they ate more sushi than I could believe. I was just happy with my tempura and my avocado role. And sake and dessert. Yum. Plus we had a lovely discussion involving thong vs. g-string vs. full size, drugs, buying vs. renting, people we dislike, the inappropriateness of my blog, coworkers, Ed's Shirt and all sorts of other good things. I like having interesting friends.
Then some lightbulb changing, cat torturing and a brief discussion on the Thunder from Down Under before bed. June is the best month in the 2004 calendar. And oooh, they updated the webpage. Oh my god. The thunder will be in Atlantic City during BIRTHDAY WEEK!!!! Is it too late to revamp and plan a Birthday Week trip to AC? Hmmmmm.... Oh dear. I may have to spend the rest of the afternoon reviewing the updated webpage. My stripper fake boyfriend is still so hot.
Keep your fingers crossed that it doesn't rain tonight so I can get my ratty old futon to the curb for trash day and plant some bushes. Hot times.
The Vagina Entry
Okay, I lied. I'm NOT done writing about my body. Live with it. Lord knows what searches will lead people my way now.
(Sorry Daddy, you may want to look away)
I'm going to tell y'all the tale of how I came to give my vagina the title of Cleanest Vagina in all the Land.
I don't do anything special to my vagina. I have never used a douche or Feminine Deodorant Spray and frankly don't even understand such items. Really. They confuse me. I love my vagina. I don't find it to be stinky or messy or anything that would make me want to use special products on it. I wash it like the rest of my body and it seems to be perfectly happy with that. In fact, all the vaginas I've ever been confronted with have been lovely so I really don't understand why there are so many special 'cleaning' products for the vagina. Are there penis & ball cleaners? I think not. Though if such a thing does exist, PLEASE let me know. That would crack me up. So, I did not do anything special to get this title, I just went to the gynecologist.
I often have odd girly doctor visits. My first one ever, at Wesleyan's Health Center of all places, the doctor asked if I wanted to see my cervix. She already had the mirror in hand so I said what the hell and decided to take a peek. All was well until she said, "See that thing that looks like a tiny pink bagel? That's it." Yeah, I have a tiny pink bagel inside me and you're all jealous. I told my mom that lovely tale and she made some kind of ew noise and announced she was never going to eat a strawberry bagel again. Heh. So, as you can now see, girly doctors say odd things about my girly parts and I often tell my Mom about it. Because she's an awesome Mom in that way.
So, on a lovely winter's day I headed to the girly doctor for my annual poking and prodding and prescription writing. I was living in my second East Village apartment so I was 23. A lovely age.
Everything was going well with the weighing and the fluid taking and the undressing and the breast exam. And then we move on to the vagina check up. First the lovely doctor made a comment about my tattoo, talking about how Koi are good luck and all. Kind of going on about how I carry good luck with me and that the tattoo is low on my abdomen and all. Which was interesting enough. I figured that could be marked down as my fun girly doctor comment for the year. Then she started asking me if I douched or anything like that. I told her I did not and started to worry. Then she told me I had the cleanest vagina she had ever seen. Ha! How awesome is that?
We wrapped up the exam. Everything checked out okay so I dressed and headed back to work. Back then I still had AIM on my work computer and chatted with Mom there all the time. We were chatting and she asked me how the girly doctor visit went. You know, making sure I'm all healthy and stuff. So, I told her the whole clean vagina story. And then I didn't hear from her for a little bit. And I worried for a minute. A clean vagina could not have shocked my Mum after all the other topics we've discussed.
Well, she finally typed back. But she was having a hard time typing as she was laughing so hard. It turns out that she asked how the doctor was and then dashed off to the bathroom. The joy of 'multi-tasking' with Instant Messaging. She heard the little AIM ping (the bathroom is just across the hall from the office in the house) telling her I've sent a message. Dad was nearby so she asked him to read my message to her. Right after that she heard him say, "I'm NOT reading that." She quickly finished up and dashed back to the computer to see what upset my father so much. And then the laughing started. My poor, poor father.
So, the fact of my clean, clean vagina combined with that story really insured that I will be telling this tale to many, many people. For years. At least 7 so far. In fact, over time I've become very, very proud of my clean vagina. And so the title was born.
Now you all know. I have the Cleanest Vagina in all the Land.
(Sorry Daddy, you may want to look away)
I'm going to tell y'all the tale of how I came to give my vagina the title of Cleanest Vagina in all the Land.
I don't do anything special to my vagina. I have never used a douche or Feminine Deodorant Spray and frankly don't even understand such items. Really. They confuse me. I love my vagina. I don't find it to be stinky or messy or anything that would make me want to use special products on it. I wash it like the rest of my body and it seems to be perfectly happy with that. In fact, all the vaginas I've ever been confronted with have been lovely so I really don't understand why there are so many special 'cleaning' products for the vagina. Are there penis & ball cleaners? I think not. Though if such a thing does exist, PLEASE let me know. That would crack me up. So, I did not do anything special to get this title, I just went to the gynecologist.
I often have odd girly doctor visits. My first one ever, at Wesleyan's Health Center of all places, the doctor asked if I wanted to see my cervix. She already had the mirror in hand so I said what the hell and decided to take a peek. All was well until she said, "See that thing that looks like a tiny pink bagel? That's it." Yeah, I have a tiny pink bagel inside me and you're all jealous. I told my mom that lovely tale and she made some kind of ew noise and announced she was never going to eat a strawberry bagel again. Heh. So, as you can now see, girly doctors say odd things about my girly parts and I often tell my Mom about it. Because she's an awesome Mom in that way.
So, on a lovely winter's day I headed to the girly doctor for my annual poking and prodding and prescription writing. I was living in my second East Village apartment so I was 23. A lovely age.
Everything was going well with the weighing and the fluid taking and the undressing and the breast exam. And then we move on to the vagina check up. First the lovely doctor made a comment about my tattoo, talking about how Koi are good luck and all. Kind of going on about how I carry good luck with me and that the tattoo is low on my abdomen and all. Which was interesting enough. I figured that could be marked down as my fun girly doctor comment for the year. Then she started asking me if I douched or anything like that. I told her I did not and started to worry. Then she told me I had the cleanest vagina she had ever seen. Ha! How awesome is that?
We wrapped up the exam. Everything checked out okay so I dressed and headed back to work. Back then I still had AIM on my work computer and chatted with Mom there all the time. We were chatting and she asked me how the girly doctor visit went. You know, making sure I'm all healthy and stuff. So, I told her the whole clean vagina story. And then I didn't hear from her for a little bit. And I worried for a minute. A clean vagina could not have shocked my Mum after all the other topics we've discussed.
Well, she finally typed back. But she was having a hard time typing as she was laughing so hard. It turns out that she asked how the doctor was and then dashed off to the bathroom. The joy of 'multi-tasking' with Instant Messaging. She heard the little AIM ping (the bathroom is just across the hall from the office in the house) telling her I've sent a message. Dad was nearby so she asked him to read my message to her. Right after that she heard him say, "I'm NOT reading that." She quickly finished up and dashed back to the computer to see what upset my father so much. And then the laughing started. My poor, poor father.
So, the fact of my clean, clean vagina combined with that story really insured that I will be telling this tale to many, many people. For years. At least 7 so far. In fact, over time I've become very, very proud of my clean vagina. And so the title was born.
Now you all know. I have the Cleanest Vagina in all the Land.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)