I woke up this morning and forgot I had a dentist appointment. Fortunately, I made it there in time. Actually, it should be "unfortunately" as I had to have a filling replaced. But I was impressed- in under an hour, I had my teeth cleaned, x-rays taken and a cavity filled.
Then, it was off to work to learn that the server is down, meaning limited email, if any. Combined with the noxious smell of sewage streaming down from the vent above my head, my office is just a joy to be in. I honestly feel like I am working in a diaper. I want to vomit.
My co-worker is late for our 12:30 meeting and we have a huge client meeting tomorrow we need to prepare for.
Over the weekend, I had to buy a new ipod, as my 2 1/2 year-old one died. Hard-drive failure. So the money I won gambling in AC was spent... and then some.
I saw Da Vinci Code last night... eh. But Drew Barrymore was there with her Stroke's boyfriend, which was a great sighting.
On a totally unrelated note, I walked by a church this weekend and they had a sign stating that Confessions are every Saturday from 4-4:30pm. I was 17 minutes too late or I would have gone in. Curiosity.
I was walking home from work yesterday when I encountered two men in their late 30's/early 40's. From afar, nothing glared out at me. It was when I get closer that I noticed: they both had moustaches. And I'm not talking about slim goatees, soul patches, or peach fuzz. These men were John Schneider replications. I had heard that the stache was making a comeback, but it was only recently that I have begun to see it in action.
For my father's sake, this is a good thing. At 32 years old, there has not been one single day in my life where I have seen my father without his moustache. There were brief periods where he experimented with beards and goatees, but through it all, his upper lip was hidden. In fact, I honestly don't know if he even has an upper lip.
I have begged my dad to shave for me (gross, that sounded very Fruedian) which never works. I have offered to pay him to see what it looked like. It just bugs me that my father has ALWAYS had a moustache. I even tried telling him he looked so dated and 70'sish, which now holds no value. Shit, I might just have to slip him a rufee and shave him in his sleep.
Anyway, in looking for funny moustaches to post here, I came across these. While not exactly a 'stache, they sure add to our viewing pleasure.
I suck, I know. It's been almost a week since my last post. I have a good excuse for not writing between last Thursday and Sunday, as I was in LA and Palm Springs for a bachelorette party. Fun times. And I had a fun celebrity sighting on my plane ride out- Skeet Ulrich, remember him from Scream? Not sure what ever happened to him, but he was looking pretty darn good...
And things have been crazy at work. I switched accounts and am extremely busy, to say the least. But work is good, so I'm happy.
Then there is the situation with The Man. It's interesting- whenever I tell people his age (37), the first response out of people's mouths is "Oh, that's a good age, why aren't you engaged yet?" It seems that people automatically equate getting older with wanting to get married quicker.
But what seems to always be left out of the discussion (and all the self-help books frankly) is the other side of dating in your 30's. What happens when two people who have been single and living alone most of their lives, have to merge? The struggle to maintain independence, while letting someone into your life, and giving completely to someone else. Honestly, there have been nights where I would rather go to the gym, then to dinner with The Man. And he would rather be in his apartment alone, as he "has things to do." And you know what, for now that's ok.
I don't people really spend the time discussing the challenges of dating in your 30's, when you are a confident, fully independent, happy person.
Shit, sorry. I just had a work party and have had 3 glasses of wine and am drunk. I really have no desire to edit this post, as it is just how I feel. Take it or leave it.
So last night I was silent. I watched Brokeback Mountain, I mean Soprano's, from Sunday. I played poker online and lost. I emailed. But what I did not do from 8pm til 12am was talk. No, I did not take some weird monk vow; my cell phone died.
For some reason it got stuck on that blue vortex and would not shut down. I tried removing the battery, about 18 times. I tried charging it. Nothing worked. No phone all night. (oh and in case you are wondering, no, I don't have a land line. I'm one of those people.)
While it was annoying that I could not say good night to The Man, or hear my sister describe her dinner meal bite by bite, it was kind of refreshing. But I am going to Palm Springs soon, and don't want it dying in the middle of the desert.
Bright and early this morning, I headed over to Verizon. Before I left my apartment, my phone was STILL not working. I had to make the pre-work stop.
I walk into Verizon, explain the situation to the tech woman, and hand over my phone.
It's the most wonderful time of the year... and I'm not talking about Christmas, or even Hanukkah for that matter. It's May Sweeps time! Which means all of the outstanding questions we built up all year watching our favorite shows should be answered. But yet, with one or two episodes left of most of my shows, I am having a hard time believing that the truth is out there. For example...
Grey's Anatomy Obviously the best show on TV if you have estrogen. Even better than 24 and Lost. But with the season finale tonight focusing on Burke getting shot and Izzie going nuts, are they going to close the loop on Addison and her lawsuit? Remember? Two or three weeks ago she burnt someone's fallopian tubes or something like that, and the husband screamed LAW SUIT. That could end her career, and yet, what happened? Same goes for Meredith's long-lost sister.
LOST I know, I know, the whole season is one big question. And from the looks of last week's previews, they are finally going to show Walt. I have been wondering where the hell he has been all season. But what about Locke? Are they ever going to let us know how he ended up in a wheel chair? And what about Jin and Sun's baby? And Charlie? Is he still on the show or is he shooting another Lord of the Rings?
24 It drove me crazy that Miles ruined the tape last week. Can't anything ever go how we want it to the first time around? But again, more questions linger? Why did they bring C. Thomas Howell onto the show for one episode? How can CNN cover President Palmer's death, the nerve gas deaths at the mall and at CTU, the highjacked plane, the Russian treaty signed, the attack on the Russian president and Walt's suicide. That seems like a lot in one day frankly.
Desperate Housewives This just seems absurd to me. I honestly don't understand why Bree's son just doesn't call his gay boyfriend to pick him up "in the middle of nowhere?" They have their driver's licenses. That storyline is just plain stupid.
I think that's enough for now. I'm sure I'll have more questions when I watch the Sopranos which I DVRed from last night.
Ugh, what am I going to watch all summer. DVDs of Prison Break, I guess.
The average age these days for having a kid is around 30. Given that I am almost 33 and have not had a child, I am partly responsible for keeping the average on the higher end. It also means that I am at war with my Body.
Lately, Body has been punishing me for wasting eggs each month. I swear, once a month I wake up with a new gray hair. I feel like Body is screaming, "ha! take that you egg killer!" Body has also been playing tricks with my hips. Millimeter by millimeter, they have expanded. Showing me just how easy it is to actually have a baby with such wide hips. Same goes for the ass, although I have yet to see the maternal benefit for that one. Boobs, now that's another story...
Body has also been doing something funky to my skin. I never get pimples, and never have. But yet, during that time this month, Body grew a massive mound on my forehead. This time, it was Body saying, "If you're not going to act your age and have kids, then I am going to make you look like a kid. Here, have some acne!"
I think it's time for a truce, although I'm not sure what I can offer. You think if I send Sally Struthers a check that might work?
It's been a while since I posted drunk. I'm due. After 3 glasses of sangria at Barca 18, I think I might qualify as drunk. Or at least slightly buzzed. I needed the alcohol tonight, Tuesday is always the perfect night to drink. The only thing on TV is American Idol, which I take pride in not watching. Sort of.
Anyway, back to my drunkenness. I went to dinner with a friend of mine who works at Us Weekly. Every time I see her, I leave with the best celebrity gossip. She did not disappoint tonight. According to the publicists that sit next to her at work:
1) Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes are definitely in contract. Tom is as gay as the cab drivers stink. In fact, I was told that Tom dated Jann Wenner from Wenner media for a few years. And Jann does not have tits.
2) Josh Lucas is a total coke whore. Now this just sucks. He was up there with Matthew McConoughey as far as men that I would sleep with after drugging The Man.
3) Nicole Kidman has herpes. As does Paris Hilton. And I'm not referring to an occasional cold sore.
4) Penelope Cruz is a beard (I think that's what they call lesbians these days, right?)
5) The second love of my life, Matthew McConoughey, is really, really gay. Every time The Post writes about an actor secretly doing this... and that... it's A Time to Kill.
Ok, now I am off to Google, Perezhilton.com and IMDB to find out if what I am saying is true, or if I am looking at a slander lawsuit.
I was on Jdate for almost four years, on and off. My first screen name was 7684, because that was the number member I was. I probably went on 30+ first dates, 10 second dates, 6 third dates, and 2 fourth dates. I fell in love from the site, once. I broke one heart.
Ironically, I met The Man at a bar. Go figure.
But I miss jdate. Not for me, and not for the men. I am happy as a clam with The Man. But I miss the initial conversations, the excitement of watching a stranger type an IM, wondering what he'll say. I miss the thrill and the chase. I miss hooking men with my wit. But I don't miss dating.
My sister has let me feed my cravings, on occasion. She'll let me search men for her (and I write them on her behalf, without her knowing.) It's fun. It's even more fun when I know the guy. Just yesterday, my sister was over and we were jdating for her. We came across a guy I dated in college. Yes, we actually went on a few dates. Bowling, if I recall.
I couldn't resist. I sent him an email saying hello. I suggested he meet my sister. Aren't "sisters" every guy's dream anyway? We'll see if he writes back.
Ok, off to write more men for sis. That is, until she changes her password again.
"You don't have a filter." Ugh, I hate that phrase, and unfortunately, I hear it too often. It reminds me of bad coffee, or strong Marlboros. Not someone who feels comfortable saying what's on her mind.
I know, I know, I could benefit OCCASIONALLY from stopping and thinking before I speak. But for the most part, I say what other people think. I'm funny. I don't hurt people's feelings (not anymore. And if I do, it is completely unintentional.)
Years and years of therapy taught me the benefits of not keeping things inside. Opening up. Expressing myself.
I truly thought that my "honesty" emanated in my later years, my early 20's to be exact. I was wrong. This past weekend, my mom thought it would be fun to share a childhood story with The Man.
"I'll never forget when Debbie was younger, around 4 or 5 years old. We were in Ocean City, MD, in the elevator. It was you, me, and your father, and a very large black man entered the elevator. 'Look, it's Fat Albert!," shouted from my kid lips. Your father and I quickly put our hands over your mouth, but it was too late."
Last night, I went to two premieres at the Tribeca Film Festival. I saw an extremely sad movie, Three Days in September, about the Belsan, Russia children's hostage situation in 2004, and an Alec Baldwin dark comedy entitled Mini's First Time.
Here's what I learned:
1. 170 children and almost 200 adults died in the tragedy in Russia 2. Jeff Goldblum is just as tall in person as you'd expect him to be 3. Premieres have gotten cheap- no free food or drinks in either of the premieres 4. The guy from Road Trip and Hustle & Flow is just as weird looking in person 5. It costs less than $20 to get from Lincoln Center to Pace University 6. Only celebrities get to walk on red carpet (although I think it was blue) 7. Kevin Spacey is gay (just kidding, I knew that already) 8. Wes Anderson rocks 9. I am definitely not famous
So the walls in my building are very thin. Beyond extremely annoying thin. More than once have I had to write notes to my neighbor upstairs, gently reminding them that by law 80% of their apartment needs to be carpeted (I have a selective memory of that law when it comes to my apartment, however.) Once, it almost ended up in court. But that's another story.
Usually, the noise projected from other apartments is limited in range. Wood creaking floors. Muffled TV or radio. Giggling. And then there was last night.
It began around 11:30. A steady banging. Too quiet to be a hammer. Too consistent to be someone cheering during the NBA play-offs. And then it hit me: one of my neighbors was getting laid.
A couple lives next door on my left so it could be them. On the right- a guy with a girlfriend. No idea who actually lives above me, so that was an option. Fortunately, I know the woman below me is about 76, so that lowers the odds slightly. I stuck my ears to the walls. I couldn't tell who it was.
It quickly became 11:42 and the banging was still in full force. Deductive reasoning- the couple on my left is younger than the guy to my right. 12 minutes of consistent floor rocking sex- as a betting woman, I went All-In on them.
At 11:44 it stopped. Climax, finally, I assumed. I was wrong. Four minutes later it resumed again. Ok, this was weird. Too soon, right? This was getting weird. Starting and stopping. It quickly became mid-night. I was tired, I needed sleep. I couldn't take this anymore.
"FINISH ALREADY!!!!," escaped from my lips. Ha! Take that, horny neighbors!!
