Friday nite, as work wraps up, I gather gather all the loot from this weeks SAMPLE SAAAAALES (there was also a Bagdley Mishka sale that I did not attend and deserve a medal for self restraint) and pack in up into a Cosco shopping bag with I had the foresight to bring to work. This bag is something that the Dugger family probably actually use to shop for groceries. Its capacity is larger than the trunk of my car! My shopper tote doubling as my purse is also filled to the limit. Add the bulk of the coat and I am a tank ready to brave the busy sidewalks, busy sidewalks dressed in holiday style! Allow myself extra time to navigate the walk of commuter shame to Penn Station. D3 is similarly saddled and we set off like two camels...or homeless bag ladies, more like.
The sidewalk is crowded with similar holiday victims and we trudge forward, our bags getting snagged on others' bags walking in opposite direction. The tourists, with their usual lack of consideration, continue doing their thing, walking together, slowly, and stopping unexplainably. Sheesh! D3 and I repeatedly have to maneuver around them, throwing hate daggers with eyes. At one point, I am slammed into the mailbox, having underestimated a matronly bag lady going in the opposite direction. D3 waits patiently for me to readjust and we keep on. Through all of this, D3 who is a real talker, entertains me with stories. We part ways at her Path entrance and I continue on. Having extra 5 minutes I stop at the wig store and buy a few beauty needs. Penn Station is teeming with desperate get me the fuuuuck home crowds and I am swept up in the swarm and carried onto my train where I collapse into an empty seat and pile my bags next to me in an unfriendly, unchristian, un-holiday, don't even think about sitting here message. I whip out the iPad and watch the Tudors. Somewhere in Seacaucus I realize that I timed the last cup of tea badly, and have a bladder situation. Ugh! I HATE commuting. Horrible horrible walk home from the station, trying to banish the shameful childhood memory of walking home in snow pants in deep snow, having to pee desperately, passing a playground that only had bare winter bushes and finally sitting on a swing, letting the hot pee go in my pants while the hot tears of shame rolled down my cold cheeks. Determined not to repeat the experience, I make it home where the cats solemnly watch my relief.
Off to rents house, where we have a family night watching the final season of Curb. Lolz. Sweet sleep in upstairs bedroom with doggies.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Sample Sale Inferno
Home. Completely exhausted (physically, emotionally and financially) from the slew of sample sales! Being 'in the business', I am hooked up with the 411 re these events, and proud to say, a pro. Sneak out of work at 9:55 sharp to get in early to the Borghese sale. In the holiday spirit, I share the info with D2, who doesn't believe me it's cash only. When we get there, there is already a line to get in, and after confirming the cash only policy, D2 acts surprised that there is no ATM on premises...considering that the event is at the company's offices, this is bizarre. I shake my head and go in, while D2 needs to go out for cash. Myself, I am ready for battle with cash and shopping bags. The place is a mayhem of fabulous cosmetic gift sets and goodies, the size of a kitchen of an average American home, with crap piled to the ceiling and 40 women at a time, all sweating in winter clothes, all with the same crazed look of the hunt! We are getting our shit and no one is stopping us!!! I push and elbow my way around and at some point look up, hat askew, to see D2 back with cash now stuck on the huge line outside...tsk, tsk. That's an amateur for you! Well, girlfriend will live and learn. I grab a shit load of stuff, trying to mentally allocate what's gifts and what's for ME!
I see many broads I know, and we all know this is no time for small talk, so we smile and keep on! Very female bonding, in a way.
As I'm already paying, D2 finally is admitted inside and I again am generous and give her one of my container store bags, although running a risk of my own stuff ripping from my now no longer double bag! Very unlike me, must be the hunger...anyway, I rush back to the office, where more company time is wasted showing my loot to the chickens, and D4 and S2 run out in a frenzy to get own stuff! Sample sale, sample sale, aaaaaahhhh! Later in the day, one of the chickens gets a cashmere scarf hook up from a friend and I get one and tell her to get more...MORE! I know of the Nautica sample sale but decide it's no place for bombshells and exercise extreme restraint by not attending, reminding myself that need funds to ESCAPE NEW JERSEY. As it is, my bank account balance is curled up in fetal position sobbing in the shower...oh well. I make a solemn promise to self, that after NYE, I will spend a long, Spartan winter holed up in apartment not spending any money, certainly not on food...
Good nite darlings...honey bee is going to go through the loot now.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I see many broads I know, and we all know this is no time for small talk, so we smile and keep on! Very female bonding, in a way.
As I'm already paying, D2 finally is admitted inside and I again am generous and give her one of my container store bags, although running a risk of my own stuff ripping from my now no longer double bag! Very unlike me, must be the hunger...anyway, I rush back to the office, where more company time is wasted showing my loot to the chickens, and D4 and S2 run out in a frenzy to get own stuff! Sample sale, sample sale, aaaaaahhhh! Later in the day, one of the chickens gets a cashmere scarf hook up from a friend and I get one and tell her to get more...MORE! I know of the Nautica sample sale but decide it's no place for bombshells and exercise extreme restraint by not attending, reminding myself that need funds to ESCAPE NEW JERSEY. As it is, my bank account balance is curled up in fetal position sobbing in the shower...oh well. I make a solemn promise to self, that after NYE, I will spend a long, Spartan winter holed up in apartment not spending any money, certainly not on food...
Good nite darlings...honey bee is going to go through the loot now.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Starvation Mode-Shmode!
Today was a great day: felt huge love for Job, doing beautiful art in Photoshop all day, just feeling very grateful. Also ate just 1 grapefruit all day. Excellent! A bit worried about no one from company K calling (yet), but not in panic mode.
Midday, S2 stops by my desk to chat. S2 always makes my shallow heart smile, bc she is the kind of sexy bitch I can roll with and smart, too (always agrees with me).
A thought-provoking deep conversation occurred between me and S2:
We get on the topic of the Only Diet that Works for Us (not eating.period). We bond about what bullshit exercise is, causing uncontrollable hunger and huge legs. Though, ok, probably good for heart. Then, she brings up that dubious concept of 'body going into starvation mode and actually getting fatter'. I give her a side eye and share one of my thoughts from the Dark Side.
"S2," I say in a teacherly manner. "there is no such thing. It's a lie that fat people made up to make everyone else get fat." I let that unorthodox bomb sink in and wait for reaction. She narrows pretty eyes and shakes the red mane...yes.
"think about it!" I carry on with excitement. "Have you ever seen coverage of famine on tv, and the reporter will show a bunch of fatties and say, ...and as you can see these poor people
here went into the STARVATION MODE and now are unable to lose any weight! This is a horrible famine."
"OMG" S2 says. "Ive thought that in the past". Like I sed, girlfriend is v.smart.
I think about all similar situations: like why did they drill a tiny tunnel to send the Chilean miners food in tiny tubes??? Why not just tell them, hey dudes, don't worry. You will go into starvation mode any day, so just chill. You see? Starvation mode-shmode!
Feel super motivated!
After work I go to the sauna and and have myself a good shvitz for an hour. Life is pretty good: single, loving job, almost thin with all the time in the world for doing exactly what I feel like.
If it was taking place in NYC it would be perfect...
Midday, S2 stops by my desk to chat. S2 always makes my shallow heart smile, bc she is the kind of sexy bitch I can roll with and smart, too (always agrees with me).
A thought-provoking deep conversation occurred between me and S2:
We get on the topic of the Only Diet that Works for Us (not eating.period). We bond about what bullshit exercise is, causing uncontrollable hunger and huge legs. Though, ok, probably good for heart. Then, she brings up that dubious concept of 'body going into starvation mode and actually getting fatter'. I give her a side eye and share one of my thoughts from the Dark Side.
"S2," I say in a teacherly manner. "there is no such thing. It's a lie that fat people made up to make everyone else get fat." I let that unorthodox bomb sink in and wait for reaction. She narrows pretty eyes and shakes the red mane...yes.
"think about it!" I carry on with excitement. "Have you ever seen coverage of famine on tv, and the reporter will show a bunch of fatties and say, ...and as you can see these poor people
here went into the STARVATION MODE and now are unable to lose any weight! This is a horrible famine."
"OMG" S2 says. "Ive thought that in the past". Like I sed, girlfriend is v.smart.
I think about all similar situations: like why did they drill a tiny tunnel to send the Chilean miners food in tiny tubes??? Why not just tell them, hey dudes, don't worry. You will go into starvation mode any day, so just chill. You see? Starvation mode-shmode!
Feel super motivated!
After work I go to the sauna and and have myself a good shvitz for an hour. Life is pretty good: single, loving job, almost thin with all the time in the world for doing exactly what I feel like.
If it was taking place in NYC it would be perfect...
Monday, December 13, 2010
Garden State
We start today with an uplifting photo (see below). This was the view from the window on train into the city this morning and this is the kind of image of New Jersey that makes one slap oneself and say 'of course! this is why they call this place the Garden State'. A manifesto of lush, rambling nature, virgin soil, sweet scent and frolicking bunnies!
Weekend update:
Friday: Hungover and over it after Thursday nite dinner with D2 and J and interview with Company K, I decide to take a fake sick day and get started on Xmas shopping. I sleep late, take a bubble bath, get all dolled up and finally ready to leave by noon, i run around the apartment collecting wallet, sunglasses, house keys, car keys...car keys. I stare blankly at the little hook in the hallway that is WITHOUT car keys. Run to the kitchen to check the table...check every purse and coat. No keys. One of the most wonderful things about being single and childfree is that one has an orderly apartment with things that are usually found where one left them. I fling off the coat because by now I am pouring sweat and sit quietly sucking on a cigarette trying to retrace steps. That's when i recall that the last time I drove the car was during the Trunk of Crime ride home. I recall with a sinking heart the mad dash home clutching the bottle and 80 other things, having to pee etc. Come to the sinking conclusion that keys are either a)locked in the trunk or b)fell to the ground.
I put the coat back on & go searching, looking like a mental patient on all fours in the parking lot. No keys. Spend the next 2 hours searching odd places all over the house. Dread telling the Rents about lost keys; I can almost see the giant cartoony I TOLD YOU SO's around their heads, b/c i never made key copy as advised. Eventually give up. As far as i am concerned this is another FAIL as far as my mad suburban living skillz go. File this together with draining car battery twice by leaving blinkers on and entering the grocery store parking lots where it says EXIT. I call the locksmith and calmly make an appointment for next day, noting that the amount is the ENTIRE CHRISTMAS BUDGET!!! Calm calm...
I go to my Bed, climb in, make a nest of pillows, cats and fake fur blankets and decide to stay there for the rest of the day and night. V calls after 5 and inquires about my health. I fess up to fake illness and tell the car key story and she laughs. But the reason for her call is...Company K owner and #2 want to interview me early next week. Am to keep mum. Mood lifts considerably, as I hang up smugly. There might be means, after all, to escape New Jersey. Woooo-Hooooo!
Saturday: Wake up physically ridiculously rested, having gone to bed around 8 the night before and waking up around 10. Somewhat mentally exhausted from dreams about the keys. Note a pathetic text from fbP: 'did you forget about me?' HA! I see you didn't forget about me. Very good. I don't reply. I realize that I have nothing to do until the locksmith gets me into the ladybug. I make delicious tea and go back to bed and watch movies. I do not give in to the temptation to eat. Around 1PM, I stroll to the kitchen for a grapefruit, when notice a stranger puttering around on my balcony. I open the kitchen doo to bark and unfriendly 'can I help you?' and GUESS WHAT??? it's neighborJ holding my keys! Found on the lawn! Yes! Yes! I race to the mall, where I wait 45 minutes to park, get in a fight over a parking space and go on a Christmas shopping spree. I end up with 1 gift and tons of stuff for ME! (as usual) A diet slip occurred in the food court, I'm sad to say. Drive home in a delicious mood regardless, and spend a fun evening trying on and putting away new clothes and jewelry, smoking and trashing everyone on the phone with B. Then the Rents come and drop off the dogs to spend an active Sunday with me.
Sunday: Wake up to a sad rainy day. Take the whining dogs out anyway to PROVE to them it's raining out. They didn't believe me when I said it again and again. Decide to drive them back to the Rents house early, so I could get back early and take an online class and go see the Black Swan. Route 80 like driving through the Ballagio fountains in Vegas. Thrilling danger! I even turned down Ice Cube at one point in order to FOCUS! At one point, I was even doing my mom's Drowning the Baby driving style, which is when you line up your chin with the wheel, which you clutch fiercely while pushing down and and staring into space ahead. At the Rents house, I get my next chapter in the Remodeling the Upstairs Bathroom Saga (this time there were visual aids, in the form of tile samples). Then, even more fun: I get to learn how to fillet and pare down Christmas herring. I do love slicing guts and anything really gross, so I didn't really mind, other than my hands smelling like rank pootang for the rest of the day. Finally, i split, this time remembering to take the jewelry chest. Black Swan was sublime and fabulous, just the kind of dark psycho shit I love. Sweet.
Monday: So here we are. Thrilled to see my friend M3 on the train this morning. We catch up and I tell him about my struggle to fit into the Versace dress and my annoying date with Dr. FeelNotGood
He basically agrees that the dr. is one big douche. He expresses his concern about me not meeting my nutritional requirements (sweet boy) and i tell him that the only thing i need to meet in the next few weeks is my image in the mirror with that fucking dress DRAPING OF ME rather than encasing me like a bratwurst sausage! it was M3 who pointed out the pretty landscape we were passing and we had a laugh about how any minute we would see the mutants coming out of the swamp, or the makeshift cars from Mad Max attacking the train. Mullets everywhere! you had to be there. But since you were not, I leave you with the pretty picture.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Ch-ch-ch-chaaange...
At home...
It is confirmed: Fabulous Job definitely in jeopardy...
Division of my company is being sold to another big company. Company K is something I would love to be a part of, but not certain they will bring me on. Ugh. B and I frantically gathering gossip. BigP promises will recommend me. B says cannot work without me. Love B for that. B and I are like siamese twins: maybe freakish to look at, but cannot be separated without creative blood shed.
Today, I Attended the trend seminar and lo and behold, I win first prize in raffle: color direction book worth over 1k. Meaning colors for spring 2012 will be cake. I rock.
Score at a sample sale later. Mood goes up another notch. Finally get to work. B and I meet with Chickens to go over Holiday market. I volunteer for annoying projects to position myself to be part of division and get taken to company K. Then B tells a stressful rumor: none of us might be going to company K...maybe they just bought the label, and their own design team will absorb the work. Shudder.
I somehow miss the 6:18 train and have to wait for 6:40. After getting home and feeding cats, I jump in the ladybug and drive to parents house. Just to give them the forgotten leash, tamari sauce, flameless candles and lamp for broM2. And bc ladybug needs to be driven...mom shows me the current stage of Upstairs Bathroom project from Hell. I make sympathetic noises and ask why is everyone not using the other bathroom. Mystified about the answer that everyone's stuff is there. I know better than to ask why stuff cannot make the journey one flight of stairs to the other bathroom. Mom just says that broM2 might kill himself stumbling to downstairs bathroom middle of the night. Ok, then.
Mom hooks me up with a bottle of cranberry vodka. The bottle was open, so Dad and I put it in the trunk, as open bottle illegal in car. I just then remember that D put my glass weed pipe somewhere in the trunk, after anniversary party in September. Paranoid ride home, imagining being pulled over and the trunk of crime being discovered by EJC (evil jersey cop).
Sure enough, one follows me for 4 miles on route 80. Sweating in fake fur, but EJC finally gives up, discouraged by my stately 60mph steady middle lane driving. Ladybug is a cop magnet!
Tomorrow going on audition to become a voice over talent. Don't laugh: I must secure other sources of income. Wish me to break a leg!
It is confirmed: Fabulous Job definitely in jeopardy...
Division of my company is being sold to another big company. Company K is something I would love to be a part of, but not certain they will bring me on. Ugh. B and I frantically gathering gossip. BigP promises will recommend me. B says cannot work without me. Love B for that. B and I are like siamese twins: maybe freakish to look at, but cannot be separated without creative blood shed.
Today, I Attended the trend seminar and lo and behold, I win first prize in raffle: color direction book worth over 1k. Meaning colors for spring 2012 will be cake. I rock.
Score at a sample sale later. Mood goes up another notch. Finally get to work. B and I meet with Chickens to go over Holiday market. I volunteer for annoying projects to position myself to be part of division and get taken to company K. Then B tells a stressful rumor: none of us might be going to company K...maybe they just bought the label, and their own design team will absorb the work. Shudder.
I somehow miss the 6:18 train and have to wait for 6:40. After getting home and feeding cats, I jump in the ladybug and drive to parents house. Just to give them the forgotten leash, tamari sauce, flameless candles and lamp for broM2. And bc ladybug needs to be driven...mom shows me the current stage of Upstairs Bathroom project from Hell. I make sympathetic noises and ask why is everyone not using the other bathroom. Mystified about the answer that everyone's stuff is there. I know better than to ask why stuff cannot make the journey one flight of stairs to the other bathroom. Mom just says that broM2 might kill himself stumbling to downstairs bathroom middle of the night. Ok, then.
Mom hooks me up with a bottle of cranberry vodka. The bottle was open, so Dad and I put it in the trunk, as open bottle illegal in car. I just then remember that D put my glass weed pipe somewhere in the trunk, after anniversary party in September. Paranoid ride home, imagining being pulled over and the trunk of crime being discovered by EJC (evil jersey cop).
Sure enough, one follows me for 4 miles on route 80. Sweating in fake fur, but EJC finally gives up, discouraged by my stately 60mph steady middle lane driving. Ladybug is a cop magnet!
Tomorrow going on audition to become a voice over talent. Don't laugh: I must secure other sources of income. Wish me to break a leg!
Friday, December 3, 2010
Almost Weekend!
Friday AM. On train.
While waiting on the platform, and I tell L the rest of the story about SHADY, annoying A and we both agree that I am blowing off going to dinner with him tonite, and prob ever again.
I don't need this shit, and I'm way out of his league anyway. My shallow heart cannot do without Major Hotness...last nite, after returning home from seeing The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, I called B back. She was still in San Fran. We spent a solid hour dissecting the meeting with Account and crazyA's behavior during. Then I told her about my annoyance with A (regular A not crazyA) and shared a laugh about the idiocy of men. Miss B :(
Tomorrow plan on spending productive day trying to secure new Fabulous Job and continuing dreamwever class. Terrified about losing the job and not having funds to escape NJ.
Sunday having a massage party at my house. Mom and J are def coming possibly others. I hope the healer doesn't keep up that thing about 'quieting me' and trashing the City like he did last time. NOT relaxing.
I will have a nice sauna tonite and maybe hang with L2. Have a nice life, A!
While waiting on the platform, and I tell L the rest of the story about SHADY, annoying A and we both agree that I am blowing off going to dinner with him tonite, and prob ever again.
I don't need this shit, and I'm way out of his league anyway. My shallow heart cannot do without Major Hotness...last nite, after returning home from seeing The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, I called B back. She was still in San Fran. We spent a solid hour dissecting the meeting with Account and crazyA's behavior during. Then I told her about my annoyance with A (regular A not crazyA) and shared a laugh about the idiocy of men. Miss B :(
Tomorrow plan on spending productive day trying to secure new Fabulous Job and continuing dreamwever class. Terrified about losing the job and not having funds to escape NJ.
Sunday having a massage party at my house. Mom and J are def coming possibly others. I hope the healer doesn't keep up that thing about 'quieting me' and trashing the City like he did last time. NOT relaxing.
I will have a nice sauna tonite and maybe hang with L2. Have a nice life, A!
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Back to Reality
So, back to work at Fabulous Job. Six lovely days off. Watched movies with dogs, recovered from dr. Botox, went to the park with dogs and on a date in NYC which turned out not to be a real date. A much married rich dude who likes to surround himself with professional (not that way) lovelies. I arrived, had to shamed- faced admit that needed to get the last train to jersey, after which was ignored. Horrid ride back to Jersey on Last Train filled with drunk teens. Not even worth it.
At work everyone frantic with leaving for San Fran to meet with Account X. Grateful not going, although resentful at the same time. Commute to work 2 hours. Arrive 1 hour late and soaked.
Notice P actually at his desk, actually present at work. Disturbing talk with P, during which, I understand the company's days are numbered and Fabulous Job might be no more in the new year. Fuck.... Fuck, fuck, fuck. Am completely broke from dr. Botox and frivolous designer shoe purchases. But come on... A girl in fashion cannot be taken seriously unless the bottoms or her heels are fabulously RED. We all know that's half of V's power: her seemingly endless array of Louboutins. But anyway. If laid off, have cheap living in fabulous apartment in jersey, though move to NYC light years away without Fabulous Job.
D2 leaves in a hurry, hiding her print assortment from me. Bitch! Have meeting with a London studio and purchase 6 prints. Once again, realize that Dior Poison is not as captivating on me as on the London rep. Half-hearted convo with J about our efforts in marketing and new format for newsletter. Enjoy several minutes of trashing insaneA.
Texting back and forth with A about my need to control Friday night date. Get completely annoyed. Relate to Mother who is not sympathetic and 'has to go'. We agree that I am a 'weird girl'.
B leaves for San Fran. We share a laugh after figuring out that the mysterious charge on our cc's to 'destination happiness' is not a Chinese restaurant or porn service, but company's travel agent. Feel sorry for B and hope she has a safe flight in the winds.
Get mobile alerts about wires on tracks and all trains diverted to Hoboken. Grateful to botox. My face remains serene, as my insides boil...regardless of situation, have to go to Penn
Station to purchase monthly pass. Long line. Go outside and stand stupidly at 8th ave and 34th street deciding on which hell: path to Hoboken and wait for mystery train or bus from Port Authority. Finally decide on the latter. Half hour on line. When finally get on bus, A is on the bus! We sit together and I explain why I must know where we go on Friday. When finally arrive in FancyTown, A pisses me off to high hell. Too complicated to xplain why. Not sure if I will go out with him on Friday.
Once home, I busy myself with finally hanging up the curtains. You see, I take perverse pleasure in making my Jersey prison look like a fucking showcase. I pull a muscle, as I balance precariously while drilling, and of course either the new drill bit or the weak drill fail, and I end up hammering the parts in while dripping sweat. It looks kinda ghetto, but I hope that it will look better when I do the pull- backs on Saturday with daylight.
I am very very hungraaay...you see, I want the Versace dress to not just fit, but DRAPE on NYE. Dress is hanging by the fridge to serve as reminder that every time I open the fridge I am not worthy of the dress. The cats, who supervised the curtain project and the hanging of the dress on the fridge project stare at me with approving green eyeballs. One of them left a pile of barf on the kitchen floor. If it's a hint, forget about it. Hate bulimics- wasteful. On the other hand, the anorexic will power...now that's something I can work with.
Going to bed, remembering to put the phone with alarm far away from the bed...lesson learned this morning that the nightstand bullshit does not work! I need to be forced to get up to turn it off.
At work everyone frantic with leaving for San Fran to meet with Account X. Grateful not going, although resentful at the same time. Commute to work 2 hours. Arrive 1 hour late and soaked.
Notice P actually at his desk, actually present at work. Disturbing talk with P, during which, I understand the company's days are numbered and Fabulous Job might be no more in the new year. Fuck.... Fuck, fuck, fuck. Am completely broke from dr. Botox and frivolous designer shoe purchases. But come on... A girl in fashion cannot be taken seriously unless the bottoms or her heels are fabulously RED. We all know that's half of V's power: her seemingly endless array of Louboutins. But anyway. If laid off, have cheap living in fabulous apartment in jersey, though move to NYC light years away without Fabulous Job.
D2 leaves in a hurry, hiding her print assortment from me. Bitch! Have meeting with a London studio and purchase 6 prints. Once again, realize that Dior Poison is not as captivating on me as on the London rep. Half-hearted convo with J about our efforts in marketing and new format for newsletter. Enjoy several minutes of trashing insaneA.
Texting back and forth with A about my need to control Friday night date. Get completely annoyed. Relate to Mother who is not sympathetic and 'has to go'. We agree that I am a 'weird girl'.
B leaves for San Fran. We share a laugh after figuring out that the mysterious charge on our cc's to 'destination happiness' is not a Chinese restaurant or porn service, but company's travel agent. Feel sorry for B and hope she has a safe flight in the winds.
Get mobile alerts about wires on tracks and all trains diverted to Hoboken. Grateful to botox. My face remains serene, as my insides boil...regardless of situation, have to go to Penn
Station to purchase monthly pass. Long line. Go outside and stand stupidly at 8th ave and 34th street deciding on which hell: path to Hoboken and wait for mystery train or bus from Port Authority. Finally decide on the latter. Half hour on line. When finally get on bus, A is on the bus! We sit together and I explain why I must know where we go on Friday. When finally arrive in FancyTown, A pisses me off to high hell. Too complicated to xplain why. Not sure if I will go out with him on Friday.
Once home, I busy myself with finally hanging up the curtains. You see, I take perverse pleasure in making my Jersey prison look like a fucking showcase. I pull a muscle, as I balance precariously while drilling, and of course either the new drill bit or the weak drill fail, and I end up hammering the parts in while dripping sweat. It looks kinda ghetto, but I hope that it will look better when I do the pull- backs on Saturday with daylight.
I am very very hungraaay...you see, I want the Versace dress to not just fit, but DRAPE on NYE. Dress is hanging by the fridge to serve as reminder that every time I open the fridge I am not worthy of the dress. The cats, who supervised the curtain project and the hanging of the dress on the fridge project stare at me with approving green eyeballs. One of them left a pile of barf on the kitchen floor. If it's a hint, forget about it. Hate bulimics- wasteful. On the other hand, the anorexic will power...now that's something I can work with.
Going to bed, remembering to put the phone with alarm far away from the bed...lesson learned this morning that the nightstand bullshit does not work! I need to be forced to get up to turn it off.
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