Saturday Bonus
The doorbell rang at 11:30 this morning.
Was it the new (larger) Levis I had ordered and have been waiting for all week?
NOOOOOOO. It was The Sexy Exterminator.
I was wearing my Nice Flower Pajamas, and my hair was pulled back, but that was because I had just finished thirty minutes on the Denise Austin bike and was all sweaty and smelly.
Oh, and I was watching yet another Brady Bunch retrospective, this one hosted by Jenny McCarthy and her breasts.
Oh, and I was drinking a glass of Konsyl. Imagine the scene. Honestly, I couldn't have written it better.
Not long before that, I had gotten off the phone with my mother, who told me that my sweet, beloved Mr. Lashes got some disappointing news recently. On the other hand, the excruciating pain of her recent bout of shingles is subsiding, so I guess we did get some good news this week, after all!!!
Last night, Ty and I went out with his friends to a bar in New Jersey to hear live funk music, and I spent the evening acting relatively socially appropriate. I wore a push-up bra and a low-cut top to plump up my ego; unfortunately, I don't think anybody really noticed the girls in light of the fact that I had a zit with a big white head right in the middle of my neck.
I like live music as much as the next person, but I never understood why live music wouldn't be just as enjoyable about 5-10 decibel levels lower and from the vantage point of being seated on a comfortable couch with my feet up, instead of standing for two hours in a crowd of sweaty, pasty men who kept brushing past me on their way to the bar.
Fortunately, my husband and I both maxed out at around the same time, and came home in time for me to realize that I hadn't prepared and put out the recyclables. I was not about to engage in this roughly 45-minute project at 1 am on a freezing New York morning, so we'll just be storing them for another week in our apartment, that's all.
Oh, and, as I'm writing this, there is a little yellow triangle at the bottom of my window with an exclamation point inside it, and the caption, "Could not connect to Blogger.com. Saving and publishing may fail."
A second pair of shoes it is.
UPDATE: I forgot to tell you about how I met C.S. for tea and cookies and sympathy yesterday at a local hangout. You know, to "cheer me up." I was about to snag some coveted seats for us, but decided against them, as they were in very close proximity to a happy dad and his two adorable toddlers, and I didn't need to see anything cute and life-affirming given my state of mind. I then went to sit right in the entryway, where the freezing air was blowing right in (figuring the kids would stay away from the cold), and the father and the adorable children followed me, and the father picked up the little girl and began swinging her around and around and laughing about two feet in front of me as I sat, attempting to focus on the Onion, and waiting waiting waiting for C.S. to show up as quickly as possible.
Was it the new (larger) Levis I had ordered and have been waiting for all week?
NOOOOOOO. It was The Sexy Exterminator.
I was wearing my Nice Flower Pajamas, and my hair was pulled back, but that was because I had just finished thirty minutes on the Denise Austin bike and was all sweaty and smelly.
Oh, and I was watching yet another Brady Bunch retrospective, this one hosted by Jenny McCarthy and her breasts.
Oh, and I was drinking a glass of Konsyl. Imagine the scene. Honestly, I couldn't have written it better.
Not long before that, I had gotten off the phone with my mother, who told me that my sweet, beloved Mr. Lashes got some disappointing news recently. On the other hand, the excruciating pain of her recent bout of shingles is subsiding, so I guess we did get some good news this week, after all!!!
Last night, Ty and I went out with his friends to a bar in New Jersey to hear live funk music, and I spent the evening acting relatively socially appropriate. I wore a push-up bra and a low-cut top to plump up my ego; unfortunately, I don't think anybody really noticed the girls in light of the fact that I had a zit with a big white head right in the middle of my neck.
I like live music as much as the next person, but I never understood why live music wouldn't be just as enjoyable about 5-10 decibel levels lower and from the vantage point of being seated on a comfortable couch with my feet up, instead of standing for two hours in a crowd of sweaty, pasty men who kept brushing past me on their way to the bar.
Fortunately, my husband and I both maxed out at around the same time, and came home in time for me to realize that I hadn't prepared and put out the recyclables. I was not about to engage in this roughly 45-minute project at 1 am on a freezing New York morning, so we'll just be storing them for another week in our apartment, that's all.
Oh, and, as I'm writing this, there is a little yellow triangle at the bottom of my window with an exclamation point inside it, and the caption, "Could not connect to Blogger.com. Saving and publishing may fail."
A second pair of shoes it is.
UPDATE: I forgot to tell you about how I met C.S. for tea and cookies and sympathy yesterday at a local hangout. You know, to "cheer me up." I was about to snag some coveted seats for us, but decided against them, as they were in very close proximity to a happy dad and his two adorable toddlers, and I didn't need to see anything cute and life-affirming given my state of mind. I then went to sit right in the entryway, where the freezing air was blowing right in (figuring the kids would stay away from the cold), and the father and the adorable children followed me, and the father picked up the little girl and began swinging her around and around and laughing about two feet in front of me as I sat, attempting to focus on the Onion, and waiting waiting waiting for C.S. to show up as quickly as possible.
Copyright 2005-2010 by Arabella and Trattoria Breve. All rights reserved. 11:40 AM
7 Comments:
Neck zits. Now those are sexy.
Live funk music sounds fun, even if it means you're wading in trash for a week. ;)
Now, if only the little girl had thrown up on the third twirl around (when she was facing away from you, of course)...
Did I just wish throwing up on a little girl I don't even know? I'm a mean, rotten person! Bad blogger! Bad! Bad!
Really, though, you need to spend time around children when they're NOT at their best. Say, a pediatrician's office, where the kids are all whiney and full of boogers. Or anywhere with long lines. DMV office, maybe?
Sending two hugs, one for you, and one for Mr. Lashes!
I feel you on the live music thing. Unless it's someone really hot whose music I absolutely love and know the words to, then I'd usually rather stay at home and listen to the album. I'd imagine that funk, at least, allows for a little drinkin' 'n' dancin'. BUT of course the neck zit will remove and joie de vivre you might ordinarily derive from such activities.
My husband just sent some of his friends to read my blog this week.They are duly impressed with my meanness. No one mentioned my posts about my cooter -- yet.
Little kids in the grocery store might also dampen the cuteness. They're in full whiny, "buy me this!" mode at that point.
OH! And, may I also personally recommend BeneFiber chewable tablets (in orange creme flavor)?
Oh, my, the sexy exterminator, let me know if he relocates to Phoenix.
Nytro said her intern swears that Visine works for zits...lemme know, if you try it.
Why DO they play live music so fucking loud??? Always my question.
So when did you discover the zit? Before or after everyone else saw it?
Its a wonder that exterminator can keep his hands on his "spray wand" while at your apartment. You are too sexy. And full of fiber.
I totally understand about feeling fragile when you see families interacting. It's a completely normal emotion. I'm sending good vibes your way for a great week before your vacation :o)
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