Tuesday, October 31, 2006
"What is it?" I asked.
"I'm coming back in town for a meeting tomorrow morning."
This was good and bad news. Good, because I miss him a lot when he's gone and I wasn't supposed to see him again until Thanksgiving. Bad, because I had to take a shower and look nice. When I walked into the office this morning, fresh as a daisy, the mailroom girl asked me what I was for Halloween. "Presentable," I replied. It was only funny because it's true. I'm all about comfort usually. Translation? I'm a slob.
Anyway, I promised to post the pictures of the dog Halloween costume contest. I figured I could take my time about it because, really, who wants to see this crap? It's pretty funny though (maybe even a little bit cute but don't tell anyone I said that). Enjoy:
Monday, October 30, 2006
-She has to make sure someone is watching the kids even when the deadbeat's home because, well, he's a deadbeat
-Her mom hates him
Me: "He's not dead yet?"
Saturday, October 28, 2006
I shit you not that 2 minutes into our conversation, Hef ceases speech, looks at me dramatically and tells me not to scrunch my forehead and that I need botox. Hello Mr. Kettle. Hello Mr. Pot.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Monday, October 23, 2006
Before agreeing to meet him, I gave him the typical disclaimers:
-It's very hard to write a book
-It's not fun
-Seeing as how you work a full time job, you're going to have to dedicate every spare minute to it.
-It's impossible to get published.
The only things he writes on a regular basis are law and/or real estate contracts. Still, I'm often surprised by what gets published and what doesn't. I'm still trying to figure out why/how Life of Pi became popular.
Anyway, in response to my warnings, the diablo said, "Well, I just need to write it for myself."
Oh, so you're writing a diary? This is what I thought, not what I said, unfortunately.
But when it came to meeting with him yesterday, I didn't. Knowing that I'm interested in writing/reading, he's trying to fit in a face to face bitch session about his ex under the guise of writing a book. Now, that is true diablo style. But in true me style, I said I was sick/prepping for Dave's arrival/just woke up at 12:00/have to workout/go shopping/get a Halloween outfit*/clean the house/make superhero capes for my friend's dogs...."Can we postpone?"
"Sure, no problem..."
That was close.
*I'm going to be Elvira. She's a sexy bitch.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
I do have to give him credit though. He's been turnin' on the creativity to spin a topic that hasn't been updated for over a month now.
Him: The Skeeze's jacket's over here. Does he want it?
Me: No, he says to give it to goodwill.
Him: Or I could send it to [redacted] to warm her ice cold heart.
Me: I'm buying tickets to Brazil right now.
Him: Bring me home a girlfriend when you come back.
Me: They're cute but they're super jealous.
Him: At least they tell the truth about things.
Him: I wrote her and asked her if she was with anyone else when we were dating. She didn't write back.
Me: Well, she did say she didn't want to talk for a month, right?
Him: I wrote her back and told her that I'll just assume I need to go to the clinic.
Him: How's your cousin doing lately?
Me: I haven't seen her, she's been working late.
Him: Probably going on double dates with [redacted] and her new boyfriend.
There was also some stuff about him having an epiphany: "I'm smart, I have a good job, I dress pretty well, and I'm not a cold-hearted, dishonest, pretentious..."
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
I meant to send you my "Morning After Going Drinking Apology Letter Template," but I already had two emails in to you so I refrained.
Basically, the Morning After Going Drinking Apology Letter Template features the following clauses:
-Sorry if I talked way too much about myself
-Sorry if this excessive talking about myself interfered with you wanting to talk about yourself (excessively)
-If I said anything negative about anyone/anything, it was the alcohol talking, not me. I'm an angel when I'm sober.
Anyway, that should cover all the bases. I totally missed a doctors appt this morning, not due to drinking, due moreover to the fact that I'm mildly retarded.
Monday, October 16, 2006
My weekend of doing nothing and loving it progressed in kind. When I was taking a shower, I started reading the instructions on the back of conditioner bottles as I oft do, and I realized that the application instructions were the same across the board: "Massage conditioner into hair and scalp. Rinse. Repeat as necessary." Holy shit, I thought. These companies are blatant plagiarizers! If they're all going to copy eachother anyway, I'm totally buying generic from now on.
Lastly, I spent a day at Rodale Publishing last week for one reason or another and, by golly, those people are nice! When I walked in, the doorman greeted a lady who was no less than 150 years old by calling her "young woman." She laughed in kind and then stood and held the elevator for me, knowing that I was walking not too far behind her. The others in the elevator greeted me as if we were long time friends and then told me to have a good day as they exited. I also got to take home the extra food after our meeting. For a cheap bastard like me, this is the ultimate perk. I've been munching on turkey sandwiches all weekend thanks to Rodale. Lastly, their bathrooms are great! Clean and big with actual seat protectors. Doesn't smell like filth and body odor, and is not plagued by rude girls from the neighboring office... Of course, that's because Rodale doesn't share a restroom with rude girls from a neighboring office. They have their own. I'm telling you, it's the simple things in life, man.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Another perk? The Skeeze's roommate (the one who is staying) is Brazilian and is the cousin of Paulo Coelho--you know, author of The Alchemist? I'm hoping he'll stop by every now and then to motivate me to live out my dreams like the shephard boy. I've also heard there are some good restaurants in Astoria. I like eating.
It might sound like I'm rationalizing. That's because I am. Astoria isn't exactly the dream.
Anyway, that's the update. I'm trying to convince Dave to move out here for a year before I move to Chicago, at which point I will move back to Manhattan. Only this time around, I'll be a little bit richer. I'm just not ready to move to Chicago. Bottom line. The thought of leaving this city is making me remember why I like it so much. Convenient how that always happens.
Monday, October 09, 2006
Saturday, October 07, 2006
"Thank you for your thoughts. I am starting to have some peace of mind. I realize that relationships take time, work and love and both people need to realize that for it to work. Too often people think that the pretty packaging (ease of life, social circle, your address, looks, bank account) can make up for what is actually in the box. I know that it boils down to sitting on the front porch when you are retired and appreciating the person for who they are and who you have become together.
Whether it is with me or someone else, I hope [redacted] realizes that too and she will not just be another girl with a country club membership, new purse every week with a husband that is taking home his secretary.
I also wanted to say I am sorry for all those times I was stand offish, or seemed resentful when we lived together. That was a rough time and I regret that I let that rub off on others."
Yeah, that's some deep shit.
Thanks for playin'...
*If you look over to the right, there's an entire "I Hate My Roommate" archive. Serious.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
"You know, Dave - the doctors didn't know whether Gigi was a boy or a girl. No one could tell. Don't tell her that though."
"She's so skinny that I've always thought she looked like a carrot." [This is not true, I'm not really skinny nor a carrot, per se]
"She used to dance around with her little baby gut sticking out."
"I nursed her for this long."
Dave, of course, loved every bit of this.
My dad called me on October 3rd to see what I wanted. I was immediately suspicious. I mean, how the hell did he know it was my birthday? This is not to say that we're not close, but we're a lot alike; very self-involved, busy, non-birthday oriented. To that end, I fulfilled my end of the bargain and told him what I wanted.
My sister called me today and made sense of the "dad actually remembering my birthday" situation for me.
"So, I was talking to dad the other night and I asked him what he was getting you for your birthday. He was like, 'oh shit!'" She explained.
"Ah ha! I knew something was up! I knew he didn't remember!"
Anyway, we went to Blue Ribbon tonight. It was good, but not as good as Dave led on. I should know never to trust him. He's got bad taste. If you don't believe me, you should check out his girlfriend.