After the visit, I picked up DVDs and beer and went to Brent Fantastic’s new apartment. He has beautiful new furniture like a Real Adult™, which got me thinking about the things I want to buy for myself. I’ve really been denying myself simple stuff, like new sheet sets, because I let the cost put me off. You know. All $30 or $40 of it when I’ll drop $25 on pizza and an overpriced two-liter of Diet Coke without batting an eye. Or I think I’m being “frivolous” and should pay some bills instead of, I don’t know, buying items that are necessary and would make my home life even nicer. At least I’m aware of these things and can begin to remedy them. Join me now in a Stuart Smalley moment: I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, I deserve new sheets and a dining room table and a big girl bed, and doggone it, people like me.
I crapped out early on Brent after eating pizza, drinking beer, and watching Little Miss Sunshine (LOVED.IT.) and got home a little after midnight. I stopped and bought bleach and Swiffer wet cloths because I had some cleaning to do before Serena came over on Saturday. I also bought bananas. I enjoy odd purchases like that. Mmmm. Chemicals and fruit. Tasty. Maybe next time I’ll buy Vaseline, a dog collar, and kitty litter.
On Saturday, I cleaned and cleaned and cleaned, which made me happy. Serena came over around 1 PM and we had a belated Candlemas (a.k.a. Imbolc) celebration. We hung out for a bit and then went to lunch and went shopping. I ended up with incense, a new shirt, and new undies. We drove through a sudden onslaught of freezing rain which became rain which became snow, all in the space of an hour. It was surreal.
In the evening, we went to a house concert where I met the potential date that Serena had been talking up all month. Had the potential date been (a) older than 27 (b) not said “I hate to read” when I asked her what she likes to do in her free time and (c) not looked a whole lot like Beaker from the Muppets (plus glasses), things might have worked out. You know. If I had no standards.
On Sunday, I was due to hang out with a friend and make some candles, but we mutually agreed on Saturday night to cancel. She’d been driving for hours through the aforementioned icerainslushsnow and just wanted to go home and I did not blame her one bit. I was also due to go to the Chinese New Year party, but a headache I’d had since Friday was giving me the Migraine Smackdown by Sunday and I didn’t want to leave my house. I was amazingly productive, though, including taking a shower and changing my sheets as soon as I got up and cleaning out the fridge and washing down its shelves. (Dear rat bastards who lived in my apartment before me and NEVER cleaned the fridge: You are disgusting and I shall now blame you for everything wrong with the world, including global warming.)
My day also included short-lived attempts at napping, and watching Idiocracy and The Last Kiss, which was SO not a comedy but I liked it anyway. I lit candles and burned a bunch of incense and all that typical Sunday-at-home stuff. Luckily, the headache finally broke around 11 PM after a heating pad on high, some dinner (I kept forgetting to eat this weekend, which didn’t help), and my determination to drive to the hospital and ask the people in the E.R. to FUCKING KILL ME if the pain didn’t stop. I went to bed after watching The L Word and dreamt about poop. Good times.
I went to a networking breakfast on Monday morning. One of the attendees fell in front of the building where the meeting was being held and apparently landed on her bad knee. She lay on the sidewalk on a huge spot of melted snow with her head next to a snow bank for about 10 minutes and said she was trying not to pass out. I stood there and offered to help her up, offered to call an ambulance, or hold her dogs (she and her friend/business colleague were bringing service dogs to the networking event), but she didn't want any help. I can understand because sometimes a person just needs to sit on the ground and, you know, reflect on life after a fall but I was also very "I'm not just going to leave you here on the ground." Eventually, her friend came back and I let the front desk clerks know that Barely Conscious Lady was still on the ground in front of their business. Again, I understand the 'don't touch me and don't move me' phenomenon after a fall, but the business provided massages and wellness treatments. I simply figured a body on the pavement next to the welcome mat might be a little distracting.
I went to a networking breakfast on Monday morning. One of the attendees fell in front of the building where the meeting was being held and apparently landed on her bad knee. She lay on the sidewalk on a huge spot of melted snow with her head next to a snow bank for about 10 minutes and said she was trying not to pass out. I stood there and offered to help her up, offered to call an ambulance, or hold her dogs (she and her friend/business colleague were bringing service dogs to the networking event), but she didn't want any help. I can understand because sometimes a person just needs to sit on the ground and, you know, reflect on life after a fall but I was also very "I'm not just going to leave you here on the ground." Eventually, her friend came back and I let the front desk clerks know that Barely Conscious Lady was still on the ground in front of their business. Again, I understand the 'don't touch me and don't move me' phenomenon after a fall, but the business provided massages and wellness treatments. I simply figured a body on the pavement next to the welcome mat might be a little distracting.
2 comments:
“I hate to read”?! I would have immediately walked away.
I had a similar date years ago, when I suggested going to the art museum because there was a traveling exhibit I wanted to see, and she replied "I don't like art." That stopped conversation for about 10 minutes.
Her comment honestly made me feel a little sick to my stomach. And it was also a bit like she'd started speaking in Klingon. Unfortunately, I had let Serena drive us to the concert (instead of being my normal 'driving butch' self), so I was stuck with that f'ed up, illiterate poobah for another couple hours. I got more and more irritated with her the rest of the evening and by the time we all got back to my house and she asked if she could come in and use the potty, I almost told her to just tinkle in the bushes. But I let her come in (she and Serena DID have an hour-long drive ahead of them) and as she left, she shook my hand firmly as though she were an interviewee (which, in a way, I guess she was) and said, "It was very nice to meet you!" and gave me this 1000-watt smile like an insurance salesperson trying to close a deal. *shaking head in disbelief* Was I that f'ed up at 27? Probably. BUT AT LEAST I READ BOOKS. Oy.
Post a Comment