I never tell a guy I love him first. I always wait until they say it, and then usually wait a while to say it back to them. I would never tell someone I loved them if I didn't.
But, sometimes I find myself in strange situations. Take, for instance, this guy that I dated a while ago. After I got divorced I didn't go on a date for two years. Then I met this guy at the gym and he bugged me until I went out with him. Our first date was kind of strange. When I met up with him for dinner the first thing he said to me is "I'll give you 20 IQ points for free". I was like what the fuck are you talking about? He assumed I guess, because I'm a woman, that I'm stupid. Even though he hadn't even graduated from high school and had a college "degree" from some unaccredited university in Colorado.
But, I was bored, and he seemed like he was really in to me, so I went on another date with him the next night, which was christmas eve. We went to the gym and then back to his apartment, where he made dinner. We were sitting on the sofa and he started talking about how he had been in love with this girl who died climbing. Then he started sort of crying. I wasn't sure what to do so I said that I was going to leave.
He didn't want me to leave, and, as fate would have it, it had just started snowing really hard. He suggested that we retire to his bedroom (the sofa was tres uncomfortable) to watch the snow from the huge window in there. So I sat down on the side of the bed and watched the snow while he excused himself to go to the bathroom. It was cold in his apartment so I put a blanket from the bed over my legs. He came out of the bathroom but I didn't turn around. Then he slid under the covers and pulled me under with him.
That's when I realized, I seriously am NOT making this up, that he was naked. Totally naked. I was like "Dude! What are you doing????" He thought he had made it obvious what "going to watch snow in the bedroom" meant. Apparently I missed the message.
As if things weren't already strange, he started making out with me. I hadn't made out with anyone for two years so I decided to play along for a while. But things weren't right. In fact, they were, shall we say, flaccid. I am not used to kissing a guy and not having his tackle poking me in the stomach. I wondered what the fuck was going on.
After about an hour of making out, I decided to ask him. Earlier in the evening he had made this dramatic declaration that we were going to be together forever and that I should be able to tell him everything and not keep secrets from him. It seemed like an ideal time to test his sincerity about that.
But, first I decided to go to the bathroom and compose myself. I splashed my face and then drank some water, trying to figure out the best way to phrase my question. I had decided that I kind of liked the guy, and I didn't want to screw up my second date in two years.
So I went back into the bedroom and crawled back into bed. The guy had propped himself up on some pillows while I was gone. I tried to put my head on his chest but he grabbed my shoulders so I couldn't hide my face.
He looked at me and he said "You. Are. A. Coward." I tried to look away but he wouldn't let me. Then he said "Since you won't say it, I'll say it first." Thank god, I thought. Now I don't have to ask what's wrong with his penis.
He said "I love you."
I was so shocked that nothing really came to mind to say. He pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around me. He said "You don't have to say it back to me now. Because I know some day you'll say it." He kissed the top of my head and I started giggling uncontrollably. I tried to stop but I couldn't. Finally, realizing I was on the verge of laughing hysterically and not being able to stop, I told him I had to go home.
He said he would walk me to my car, and if there was more than an inch of snow on the pavement that I would have to stay. We got outside to discover that the wind had been blowing so hard no snow had accumulated on the pavement. He raised his hands up to the sky and yelled "Fuck you snow!" For some reason, I found that incredibly charming.
It was 3 in the morning by this point, and he insisted I talk to him on the phone the hour drive back to my apartment because he was worried about me. Then he told me he would come by to see me in the morning. We were having christmas dinner with my friends Eva and Dan, a dinner we called "three jews and you". I got to bed at 430 in the morning, and was awakened by him knocking on my door at 8 in the morning. I was like what are you doing here, and he told me he came as soon as it was morning because he missed me.
I'd never dated anyone who seemed so dedicated and who wanted to spend time with me. I got sucked in, especially because he would say things like "30 years from now we're going to do (whatever)". Every guy I had ever dated was incapable of making plans even a week in advance.
But, later everything went to shit. He dumped me by email and then married someone else 4 months after we broke up. I saw him twice after that. The first time he said to me "I'm pretty sure that when I said I loved you I meant it. But only at the time I said it." The second time I ran into him at a deli near my work, and he offered to buy me a salad, but he did it in an insulting way, as if buying my lunch was going to make up for him breaking my heart.
Guys. Fucking stupid.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
the broken vase
Last night I had a dream that I was in a tv show. It was supposed to be a comedy. The first part of the show I had signed up to do a bouldering competition at my ex's gym, but it wasn't really his gym because it was outside and it was on this small jut of land that had cliffs on all three sides. But I couldn't climb because every time I touched the holds on the wall they would fracture into a million pieces. Everyone was yelling at me that I was ruining the competition. My ex told me I should have known I couldn't touch plastic since I had frost bite. So he grabbed me and threw me into this copper metal pipe and I was falling through the pipe not sure where I was going to land.
The pipe finally dropped me into a huge metal tub full of water. Drew Barrymore was there, and she told me she was going to be on the show with me. I told her I didn't know how to act and that I didn't watch TV and she said "look, I can blow bubble bath out of my mouth". She started blowing these weird iridescent bubbles out of her mouth. I was like "can we talk about the show please?" but she kept blowing bubbles and just giggling instead of talking.
Then I looked over and saw my friend Joe riding a unicycle on this metal railroad tie that was a fence to keep people from falling off the cliff. He was in a contest to juggle three green tennis balls while riding the unicycle on the narrow railroad tie. Also, they made him wear these glasses that were a swirl of white and black (like the cover of Vertigo) and every time he pedaled the swirls in the glasses would start turning. There were other people in the contest too but all of them fell off the cliff and died immediately. I could hear them scream when they fell off the tie and down the cliff. Joe was the only one who was able to ride the unicycle and juggle. Everyone was clapping and cheering, but I was yelling at him to take the glasses off and stop riding because he had won the contest. Then Joe fell over the cliff.
I was afraid he might have died so I ran over to my ex, who was reading a clipboard. I asked him to help me find my friend Joe but he ignored me. I got mad and started yelling at him. Then he looked up at me and I realized he was my co-author. He smiled at me and I saw that his teeth had grown together and he couldn't talk. I was scared so I ran away and found a producer for the show, and told him I wouldn't be on the show anymore if he kept changing people on me and killing my friends. So the producer told me to go to another set of the show, which was a house not on the cliff, but somewhere else.
In that house there was a couple from Jamaica. They had a vase made of black glass. The bottom of the vase was a black woman's head, and then there were all these pipes coming out of her head that went almost 6 feet up. Between the pipes were tied these off white china ovals, and each of the ovals had a face painted in water colors. They told me the faces were their relatives and the vase was sacred and had special powers.
There was a laugh track for a while because Drew Barrymore and the Jamaican man were joking back and forth, and then the Jamaican man accidentally bumped the vase and broke one of the pipes off. His wife got really mad and said that Drew Barrymore had to be punished for the vase. I said I thought it was unfair because her husband was the one who broke the vase, but she pulled out a huge knife and told me to shut up.
Then Drew said the woman could cut her hair off with the knife as punishment, and she leaned over and put her forehead on the table where the vase was, and pulled her hair forward so that her neck was completely exposed. The wife pulled back the table cloth on the table, and I saw that the table was actually a grave full of dirt. I realized the woman was going to kill Drew. And then I heard the producer whisper "you see, it isn't a comedy at all".
Then I woke up.
The pipe finally dropped me into a huge metal tub full of water. Drew Barrymore was there, and she told me she was going to be on the show with me. I told her I didn't know how to act and that I didn't watch TV and she said "look, I can blow bubble bath out of my mouth". She started blowing these weird iridescent bubbles out of her mouth. I was like "can we talk about the show please?" but she kept blowing bubbles and just giggling instead of talking.
Then I looked over and saw my friend Joe riding a unicycle on this metal railroad tie that was a fence to keep people from falling off the cliff. He was in a contest to juggle three green tennis balls while riding the unicycle on the narrow railroad tie. Also, they made him wear these glasses that were a swirl of white and black (like the cover of Vertigo) and every time he pedaled the swirls in the glasses would start turning. There were other people in the contest too but all of them fell off the cliff and died immediately. I could hear them scream when they fell off the tie and down the cliff. Joe was the only one who was able to ride the unicycle and juggle. Everyone was clapping and cheering, but I was yelling at him to take the glasses off and stop riding because he had won the contest. Then Joe fell over the cliff.
I was afraid he might have died so I ran over to my ex, who was reading a clipboard. I asked him to help me find my friend Joe but he ignored me. I got mad and started yelling at him. Then he looked up at me and I realized he was my co-author. He smiled at me and I saw that his teeth had grown together and he couldn't talk. I was scared so I ran away and found a producer for the show, and told him I wouldn't be on the show anymore if he kept changing people on me and killing my friends. So the producer told me to go to another set of the show, which was a house not on the cliff, but somewhere else.
In that house there was a couple from Jamaica. They had a vase made of black glass. The bottom of the vase was a black woman's head, and then there were all these pipes coming out of her head that went almost 6 feet up. Between the pipes were tied these off white china ovals, and each of the ovals had a face painted in water colors. They told me the faces were their relatives and the vase was sacred and had special powers.
There was a laugh track for a while because Drew Barrymore and the Jamaican man were joking back and forth, and then the Jamaican man accidentally bumped the vase and broke one of the pipes off. His wife got really mad and said that Drew Barrymore had to be punished for the vase. I said I thought it was unfair because her husband was the one who broke the vase, but she pulled out a huge knife and told me to shut up.
Then Drew said the woman could cut her hair off with the knife as punishment, and she leaned over and put her forehead on the table where the vase was, and pulled her hair forward so that her neck was completely exposed. The wife pulled back the table cloth on the table, and I saw that the table was actually a grave full of dirt. I realized the woman was going to kill Drew. And then I heard the producer whisper "you see, it isn't a comedy at all".
Then I woke up.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
freedom to fall
In August of 2005, I had just moved into my house. I had spent 3 days, at the tail in of my last chemo treatment and defense of my thesis, running around trying to unpack and fix things because my dad was coming to visit me. I had gotten maybe 10 hours of sleep in those three days, and then had a party. I rolled into bed at 4 am, and had to get up at 8 am to pick my dad up at the airport.
I woke up before my alarm, and found a guy sitting on the edge of my bed. I was startled and asked who he was. He asked "you're a climber?" and I said yes. He said "I used to be a climber, but I died." Then, he was gone.
The dream was so vivid that I wrote it down, and that's when I started documenting my dreams. Anyway, 2 years later I had taken over as the president of my HOA and was talking to a woman who lives two doors down from me, Carol Hampson. I had only really known her as a neighbor, sharing only idle chit chat with her. I have a lot of climbing pictures up in my house, and she was asking me about them. She told me she was writing a book about her son, Chris Hampson, who died climbing in Yosemite in 2003. The book is called Freedom to Fall. I am sure that the guy sitting on the edge of my bed that morning was her son, and I was able to describe him to her even though I had never seen a picture of him. It created a sort of bond between us.
Today, we had an HOA meeting, and she brought me a copy of the finished book. We were looking through it and she was showing me some pictures taken by Jonny Copp. Jonny climbed with her son, and when Chris died Jonny and Carol had formed a close relationship. As we waited for the last person to show up at the meeting, she told me Jonny had died in China two weeks ago.
This is how small the climbing community is: a friend of mine, Mike Pennings, was good friends with Jonny. Though I didn't know him personally, I was shocked by his death. I wonder how Mike is doing. There is a fund for Jonny set up at adventurefilms.org.
It seemed appropriate this afternoon to start reading Carol's book, although in a way I was dreading it. It's never easy to talk about loss and death. Carol said to me today "You guys have friends die, and you just keep trucking. But there's a process you need to go through to grieve." I thought about friends I had lost not just climbing, or doing other sports, but also at work and in the war, and how I normally just try to forget about them rather than crying and being sad. The third chapter of Carol's book is about dealing with loss, and it's very raw emotionally, from journal entries and letters about her son's death.
I decided I couldn't read that chapter, so I just started randomly opening the book and reading. The first thing I opened to was a story about the first year after Chris' death, on his birthday. Carol had gone to J tree thinking she would climb because she felt she had to do something for his birthday. In the end she didn't climb, but watched two of Chris' friends climb. The passage moved me to tears:
"One twenty-eight. I am waiting for a sign. I yell up to Greg and Sarah, "In ten minutes Chris was born!" They say, "Oh." It is a tense moment on the wall. Sarah, a newcomer to climbing, is frightened. She can't find a hold. Greg is standing on the ledge above, encouraging her. They can't hear each other because of the overhang. I yell their messages back and forth, thinking Chris will help her up. She will step on the ledge at 1:38-that will be the sign!
The wind and cold are fierce. More yelling as Sarah lifts, descends, pulls, gropes, and hugs the immense, unyielding rock. I am mesmerized, waiting for the next words to shout. I'm part of the team. I glance at my watch. One forty-five. Sarah is not going up, not this time.
I meander a long sandy trail, then go back to the car and weep.
...Chris gave up his attachments for a higher truth. He loved all earthly things and being, and still he let go. That was the greatest achievement of his life."
Carol has self published the book. You can buy it, and read more about Carol, at www.morningsongpress.com. Her purpose for the book is not to make money, but to use it as a way to help people deal with loss. I think the book has a very important message, even for people who aren't climbers. She has been on a road trip, and will continue on her trip, to share Chris' story and to talk to people who are going through the same process she went through when she lost her son. I think what Carol is doing is amazing, and want to support her any way I can. I hope you will tell everyone you know about the book so they can check it out.
I woke up before my alarm, and found a guy sitting on the edge of my bed. I was startled and asked who he was. He asked "you're a climber?" and I said yes. He said "I used to be a climber, but I died." Then, he was gone.
The dream was so vivid that I wrote it down, and that's when I started documenting my dreams. Anyway, 2 years later I had taken over as the president of my HOA and was talking to a woman who lives two doors down from me, Carol Hampson. I had only really known her as a neighbor, sharing only idle chit chat with her. I have a lot of climbing pictures up in my house, and she was asking me about them. She told me she was writing a book about her son, Chris Hampson, who died climbing in Yosemite in 2003. The book is called Freedom to Fall. I am sure that the guy sitting on the edge of my bed that morning was her son, and I was able to describe him to her even though I had never seen a picture of him. It created a sort of bond between us.
Today, we had an HOA meeting, and she brought me a copy of the finished book. We were looking through it and she was showing me some pictures taken by Jonny Copp. Jonny climbed with her son, and when Chris died Jonny and Carol had formed a close relationship. As we waited for the last person to show up at the meeting, she told me Jonny had died in China two weeks ago.
This is how small the climbing community is: a friend of mine, Mike Pennings, was good friends with Jonny. Though I didn't know him personally, I was shocked by his death. I wonder how Mike is doing. There is a fund for Jonny set up at adventurefilms.org.
It seemed appropriate this afternoon to start reading Carol's book, although in a way I was dreading it. It's never easy to talk about loss and death. Carol said to me today "You guys have friends die, and you just keep trucking. But there's a process you need to go through to grieve." I thought about friends I had lost not just climbing, or doing other sports, but also at work and in the war, and how I normally just try to forget about them rather than crying and being sad. The third chapter of Carol's book is about dealing with loss, and it's very raw emotionally, from journal entries and letters about her son's death.
I decided I couldn't read that chapter, so I just started randomly opening the book and reading. The first thing I opened to was a story about the first year after Chris' death, on his birthday. Carol had gone to J tree thinking she would climb because she felt she had to do something for his birthday. In the end she didn't climb, but watched two of Chris' friends climb. The passage moved me to tears:
"One twenty-eight. I am waiting for a sign. I yell up to Greg and Sarah, "In ten minutes Chris was born!" They say, "Oh." It is a tense moment on the wall. Sarah, a newcomer to climbing, is frightened. She can't find a hold. Greg is standing on the ledge above, encouraging her. They can't hear each other because of the overhang. I yell their messages back and forth, thinking Chris will help her up. She will step on the ledge at 1:38-that will be the sign!
The wind and cold are fierce. More yelling as Sarah lifts, descends, pulls, gropes, and hugs the immense, unyielding rock. I am mesmerized, waiting for the next words to shout. I'm part of the team. I glance at my watch. One forty-five. Sarah is not going up, not this time.
I meander a long sandy trail, then go back to the car and weep.
...Chris gave up his attachments for a higher truth. He loved all earthly things and being, and still he let go. That was the greatest achievement of his life."
Carol has self published the book. You can buy it, and read more about Carol, at www.morningsongpress.com. Her purpose for the book is not to make money, but to use it as a way to help people deal with loss. I think the book has a very important message, even for people who aren't climbers. She has been on a road trip, and will continue on her trip, to share Chris' story and to talk to people who are going through the same process she went through when she lost her son. I think what Carol is doing is amazing, and want to support her any way I can. I hope you will tell everyone you know about the book so they can check it out.
Friday, July 10, 2009
a greenland shark in the red sea
Last night I had a dream that I was on a yacht in the red sea, and I wanted to get in the water for a swim but all people on the boat told me not to get into the water because there were 3 huge sharks. Everyone went inside for lunch or something so I jumped in the water and started snorkeling. Then a guy came out to see why I hadn't come in for lunch and he started screaming at me "the shark is coming to bite you!"
So I surfaced and saw a huge object coming towards me. I went back underwater and saw it was a greenland shark. It was huge. There were 2 others as well.
I was puzzled because greenland sharks are only found in frigid waters. In fact, it's one of my goals to some day do an ice dive and maybe see one. They are big sharks but not dangerous.
Anyway, I asked the shark what he was doing in the red sea. He kept answering me but I couldn't understand him because his voice was all messed up, like when you really try to talk underwater. He kept swimming close to me and finally I realized he was saying "pet me". So I started to pet him and then the other sharks came over and wanted me to pet them as well. But then I accidentally cut my hand on one of the shark's skin. I told them I'd have to go back to the boat and they were really sad.
So I swam back to the boat and everyone could see I was bleeding. They told me to get away from their boat. I tried to explain that I had just been petting the sharks and had cut myself but everyone was really afraid and wouldn't let me back on the boat. Then I heard this guy yelling in arabic, and I turned around to see the three greenland sharks swimming towards me in an aggressive manner. Then a guy said "you see, that's just a trick they play, so then they can bite you". I tried to tell them they were wrong when I was suddenly pulled under the water by a huge force.
Then I woke up...Shut up Jeffy. How else am I supposed to end my dream blogs? So spare me the text message after you read this making fun of me.
So I surfaced and saw a huge object coming towards me. I went back underwater and saw it was a greenland shark. It was huge. There were 2 others as well.
I was puzzled because greenland sharks are only found in frigid waters. In fact, it's one of my goals to some day do an ice dive and maybe see one. They are big sharks but not dangerous.
Anyway, I asked the shark what he was doing in the red sea. He kept answering me but I couldn't understand him because his voice was all messed up, like when you really try to talk underwater. He kept swimming close to me and finally I realized he was saying "pet me". So I started to pet him and then the other sharks came over and wanted me to pet them as well. But then I accidentally cut my hand on one of the shark's skin. I told them I'd have to go back to the boat and they were really sad.
So I swam back to the boat and everyone could see I was bleeding. They told me to get away from their boat. I tried to explain that I had just been petting the sharks and had cut myself but everyone was really afraid and wouldn't let me back on the boat. Then I heard this guy yelling in arabic, and I turned around to see the three greenland sharks swimming towards me in an aggressive manner. Then a guy said "you see, that's just a trick they play, so then they can bite you". I tried to tell them they were wrong when I was suddenly pulled under the water by a huge force.
Then I woke up...Shut up Jeffy. How else am I supposed to end my dream blogs? So spare me the text message after you read this making fun of me.
a robot chicken and were pig fight over uranus
So I finally finished the painting that my friend in the UK requested. He asked for a painting of a robot chicken fighting a were pig with light sabers. I think it may be the worst painting I've ever done. This is the first draft of it.
I started it when I got back from the software conference. But, I ran out of paint. Then I had to stay in DC, then go to Korea, blah blah blah, so I just returned to it this Wednesday.
It was really hard to finish because I had custom made the colors for the sky and grass and then couldn't replicate them. Also, I wanted to put some binary stars and planets in the sky, but it turns out those things are pretty hard to paint.
I was trying to fix the painting and it just kept getting worse and worse. Finally, I added uranus in the corner and said fuck it, it's done.
The good thing is, my friend has kids, so if anyone ever sees the painting he can just say one of them did it.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
"look at my penis" - my male behavior postulation
During a brief email exchange with a friend of mine, during which my blog about married guys was discussed, my friend, who is male, told me that I'm probably not as hot as I think I am, and that guys get into this state where they will fuck anything, including, to paraphrase, and elephant or a knot hole. That for some reason triggered a memory of a line from my super ex-girlfriend (but not my favorite line from the movie, which is "why did g girl throw a great white shark at us?") where this asshole guy is telling this bartender that the two happiest days of his life were when he graduated from harvard law school, and when he met her.
And that's when I finally realized something, which was maybe what that book he's just not that into you was about, but I missed the point. Guys talk shit. All the time. Especially about sex. I think it might even be fair to say that 99% of what comes out of a guy's mouth is bullshit. Which explains why guys always say they love you but then fuck someone else or turn out to be married.
And, I would guess, this behavior is caused by guys not being able to process their feelings. If you intimidate a guy, he says he loves you in the hopes of bringing out your softer side. If a guy doesn't like you, he'll say he loves you so he can brag to all of his friends about how much he doesn't like you and how much you like him. If a guy wants to fuck you, he'll say he loves you because he thinks that will get you into bed, or he is not sophisticated enough to realize there is a difference between lust and love. If a guy does something horrible to you, he'll say he loves you because he thinks that will make you feel less hurt.
This goes for everything guys say, not just the I love you bullshit. So, from now on, when a guy says something to me, I'm going to attempt to translate it into what he is actually trying to say. I think that will make things less confusing for everyone. Body language may be a good indicator.
One thing I've noticed is that guys will try to bring your attention to their penis if they are trying to make a connection with you, sexual or otherwise. They do this by sitting with their legs open, resting their hands on their thigh (likely thinking the whole time "watch my hand move over here, and now look! it's resting near my penis! okay, just look over a little more...maybe I should move my fingers...yes! you're looking at my penis!"), putting their hands near their pockets when standing, etc.
But, just because a guy is doing that doesn't mean he is being sincere, so maybe body language won't work. I think I'll start observing facial tics and involuntary eye spasms.
And, on a side note, maybe I should start a new business venture where guys can log on to a web site and show their penis. I'll hire women from China to look at the penises. Maybe I'll give them some phrases that they can send back to the guys about their penises.
And that's when I finally realized something, which was maybe what that book he's just not that into you was about, but I missed the point. Guys talk shit. All the time. Especially about sex. I think it might even be fair to say that 99% of what comes out of a guy's mouth is bullshit. Which explains why guys always say they love you but then fuck someone else or turn out to be married.
And, I would guess, this behavior is caused by guys not being able to process their feelings. If you intimidate a guy, he says he loves you in the hopes of bringing out your softer side. If a guy doesn't like you, he'll say he loves you so he can brag to all of his friends about how much he doesn't like you and how much you like him. If a guy wants to fuck you, he'll say he loves you because he thinks that will get you into bed, or he is not sophisticated enough to realize there is a difference between lust and love. If a guy does something horrible to you, he'll say he loves you because he thinks that will make you feel less hurt.
This goes for everything guys say, not just the I love you bullshit. So, from now on, when a guy says something to me, I'm going to attempt to translate it into what he is actually trying to say. I think that will make things less confusing for everyone. Body language may be a good indicator.
One thing I've noticed is that guys will try to bring your attention to their penis if they are trying to make a connection with you, sexual or otherwise. They do this by sitting with their legs open, resting their hands on their thigh (likely thinking the whole time "watch my hand move over here, and now look! it's resting near my penis! okay, just look over a little more...maybe I should move my fingers...yes! you're looking at my penis!"), putting their hands near their pockets when standing, etc.
But, just because a guy is doing that doesn't mean he is being sincere, so maybe body language won't work. I think I'll start observing facial tics and involuntary eye spasms.
And, on a side note, maybe I should start a new business venture where guys can log on to a web site and show their penis. I'll hire women from China to look at the penises. Maybe I'll give them some phrases that they can send back to the guys about their penises.
stop that hole!
As if things aren't hectic enough with my impending departure to the middle east, travel, work, and requests for paintings, I got home from Korea to discover a hole in my back yard.
At first the hole appeared to be just a foot or so out into my yard. I was hoping it was caused by the rain we've been having, but after my dad decided to dig into the hole, we discovered a much worse problem. It turns out there is an old sewer pipe in my yard that cracked. I had to dig almost 5 feet down to find it. And it was cracked in two places.
I was thinking back to two summers ago when the same thing happened to my next door neighbor. So when I saw him outside I called over to him and asked what he had done to fix his hole. He looked into my yard, where I had, by that time, a huge gaping hole that I had to dig to find the cracked pipe, and he said to me "are you going to bury a body there?" ha ha ha ha
Anyway, he paid someone a million billion dollars to fix his hole. But after conferring with my dad, Jeffy, and my UK genius Pascal, I decided I would fix the hole myself. The experts all recommended tar paper, concrete, and some gravel.
So I went to home depot. I couldn't buy tar paper because it came in these huge rolls larger than the back seat of my car. I asked the guy if he could just cut off a little piece for me and he said "There's no such thing as a little piece of tar paper". Then I got the concrete which was heavier than fuck. It was so heavy I could barely steer my cart. My grocery store mishap kept playing through my mind as the front wheel of my cart spasmed out every time I got near a display.
Anyway, I used the old tar paper I found in the hole, dumped the bag of concrete into the hole, added water and started stirring. The directions on the bag weren't too clear because the amount of water used was in proportion to how elastic the concrete was supposed to be. I had no idea how elastic it should be, so I just guessed how much water was enough. Then I put gravel on the concrete and went back into my house to check my email...
Only to find an email from Pascie recommending I "check with the authorities" before blocking up a sewer pipe. Oops. But I'm pretty sure it's not a pipe used for anything because I had to have an inspection done before my garage was built, and there were no water or sewer lines going from my house into my back yard. Oh well, I'll be out of the country if everything goes to, hee, shit.
When my neighbor got home last night I showed him what I had done and he said it looked fine. He also introduced me to his new puppy, and said that someone from the government came by his house asking about me. Nice. No wonder why I can't get a date in denver...
At first the hole appeared to be just a foot or so out into my yard. I was hoping it was caused by the rain we've been having, but after my dad decided to dig into the hole, we discovered a much worse problem. It turns out there is an old sewer pipe in my yard that cracked. I had to dig almost 5 feet down to find it. And it was cracked in two places.
I was thinking back to two summers ago when the same thing happened to my next door neighbor. So when I saw him outside I called over to him and asked what he had done to fix his hole. He looked into my yard, where I had, by that time, a huge gaping hole that I had to dig to find the cracked pipe, and he said to me "are you going to bury a body there?" ha ha ha ha
Anyway, he paid someone a million billion dollars to fix his hole. But after conferring with my dad, Jeffy, and my UK genius Pascal, I decided I would fix the hole myself. The experts all recommended tar paper, concrete, and some gravel.
So I went to home depot. I couldn't buy tar paper because it came in these huge rolls larger than the back seat of my car. I asked the guy if he could just cut off a little piece for me and he said "There's no such thing as a little piece of tar paper". Then I got the concrete which was heavier than fuck. It was so heavy I could barely steer my cart. My grocery store mishap kept playing through my mind as the front wheel of my cart spasmed out every time I got near a display.
Anyway, I used the old tar paper I found in the hole, dumped the bag of concrete into the hole, added water and started stirring. The directions on the bag weren't too clear because the amount of water used was in proportion to how elastic the concrete was supposed to be. I had no idea how elastic it should be, so I just guessed how much water was enough. Then I put gravel on the concrete and went back into my house to check my email...
Only to find an email from Pascie recommending I "check with the authorities" before blocking up a sewer pipe. Oops. But I'm pretty sure it's not a pipe used for anything because I had to have an inspection done before my garage was built, and there were no water or sewer lines going from my house into my back yard. Oh well, I'll be out of the country if everything goes to, hee, shit.
When my neighbor got home last night I showed him what I had done and he said it looked fine. He also introduced me to his new puppy, and said that someone from the government came by his house asking about me. Nice. No wonder why I can't get a date in denver...
Monday, July 6, 2009
the general's banquet
Well, the first two meetings I had on Thursday were a waste of time. Me sitting there doing nothing while everyone talked in Korean. People talking trash about the tool. The sales guy didn't even know what an audit ID was so he asked me in the middle of the discussion. I was getting totally aggro at everyone for talking shit about my software in front of me (I love the software I support). I wanted to bitch slap one of the customers into next year because he said the tool wasn't working and the problem was not the tool, it was him.
Then we went to talk to a gov agency in Korea. I walked in exhausted, because it was 5 in the evening and really hot (no air conditioning in most of the offices). I figured I'd be sitting around waiting for the translator to ask me a question in English as I had the previous calls. Instead, I walked into a packed room and there was a presentation I had never seen before. The colonel running the meeting was like "you can begin doing the presentation". I was like shit shit shit! But what's a girl to do?
So I cranked through the slides, fearing for my life every time I hit the "next" button because I had no idea what was on the next slide. I was sweating bullets. The presentation lasted 2 hours.
At the end the colonel I presented to said that the general was so pleased with my presentation that he wanted to take me out to dinner. All I wanted to do was go back to my hotel, take my shoes off, and collapse. But instead they took me to a traditional korean restaurant. All the sales guys were psyched we got asked out to dinner. Then I told the general I couldn't eat pork, so we got beef. Later the sales guys were like "Nice job! Beef is 5 times as expensive!"
We were in this room with sliding doors, a low table, and mats on the floor that we were supposed to sit on. The general made me sit in the center of the table as the guest of honor. He sat across from me and stared at my legs while I tried to find a way to sit in my skirt and not pull a Sharon Stone. One of the korean sales guys gave me his jacket to cover up. The general and I had a conversation, but I have no idea what he said because his english wasn't that great, even before he started drinking. Alcohol was flowing like the rain we had had all day.
I started to worry the general was trying to get me drunk, so I used a ruse that I learned about reading a book on Korean etiquette. You're never supposed to fill up a glass of alcohol until it's empty. The general caught on to this and started filling my glass, saying "we do this american style". So I started shifting my glass around with everyone else's. The sales guys were more than happy to drink my drinks since the general wasn't putting out for them, and it saved me from getting drunk.
As a side note, one of the sales guys told me Korea consumes the second largest amount of alcohol in the world. Russia is first. I totally believe it. I couldn't understand how everyone drank so much and was still standing.
I was sitting on my bad knee in a tremendous amount of pain. The food was great, marinated beef (cut with scissors because the koreans think having knives at dinner is rude, perhaps they worry about sharp instruments and drinking), this corn thing, tofu with hot peppers, some vegetable that was a really cool acid green color, 8 kinds of kim chee, and what was described to me in english as "vinegar soup". It's impossible to describe the taste, which was kind of like vinegar, but it's the coolest soup I've ever had.
The only real bad thing I did at the dinner was say something inappropriate to the general. He was telling me how he had been stationed at Lowry AFB and how he missed the winters in Colorado. I started to get excited about snow (it was so fucking hot in the room) and I said "DUDE! You should have SEEN the snow we got two years ago!"
The room went dead silent. The officers attending the dinner all paused, mid eating, and stared at the general. I was suddenly like oh my fucking god, did I just call the general dude???? Shit shit shit.
But, he laughed and told his troops that "dude" is an english term of affection, and that I called him that because he was so americanized I forgot he was korean. Uh. Nice excuse. The rest of the night everyone called each other dude because the general was doing it. One of the sales guys said that is my mark on korea and the government will never forget me because I did that at dinner.
Then the dinner was finally over. As I was standing outside the room putting on my heels (even in bare feet I was the tallest person there) and the general grabbed my arm to "help make steady of you". Then we went outside and I tried to shake the general's hand and thank him for dinner. He said "No shake, american style (the phrase that preceded all the inappropriate things that happened to me in korea)" and then he suctioned himself on to me like a little bear. I looked at the sales guys, unsure what to do since I couldn't move my arms. They finally peeled him off me and his troops escorted him back to the base.
We got back to the hotel and the sales guys insisted we get a drink. Because I was with them they could drink and eat for free. They were really psyched that the presentation went well (they were probably worried after the previous day's little shit show). More drinking. I had one beer and then tried to stay awake waiting for everyone else to finish their evening because it's considered rude to leave people when you are out with them.
But, I finally deserted everyone for the hotel because I was tired as hell. I got lost getting back to the hotel from the bar. Seoul is such a difficult city to get around in everyone has 3D GPS. There are all these side alleys and unmarked streets and it's easy to lose your way.
The final result of my trip is that the general wants me to come back and train his staff. My liver would never survive. Plus, I'm bad at the fake smiles when people talk to me and I have no idea what they are saying. Or so the sales guys tell me.
And, a quick word about them. They were the absolute sweetest, most thoughtful people I have ever worked with. They called me "the iron woman" because my computer bag was so heavy. They insisted on carrying it for me and had to switch off turns with it. They were always worried to get me the best food in any restaurant we went to. They ordered a huge thing of fruit at every bar we went to so I could eat dragon fruit (one of my favorite, except when it's dried out). They even called me on the bus back to the airport to make sure I got on the right bus.
They told me I should move to seoul and marry a guy there because they treat their women like they are queens. There's none of the chauvinism you find in some countries. So far seoul is my favorite country I've been to in Asia.
Unless you consider Turkey Asia. Which I don't.
Then we went to talk to a gov agency in Korea. I walked in exhausted, because it was 5 in the evening and really hot (no air conditioning in most of the offices). I figured I'd be sitting around waiting for the translator to ask me a question in English as I had the previous calls. Instead, I walked into a packed room and there was a presentation I had never seen before. The colonel running the meeting was like "you can begin doing the presentation". I was like shit shit shit! But what's a girl to do?
So I cranked through the slides, fearing for my life every time I hit the "next" button because I had no idea what was on the next slide. I was sweating bullets. The presentation lasted 2 hours.
At the end the colonel I presented to said that the general was so pleased with my presentation that he wanted to take me out to dinner. All I wanted to do was go back to my hotel, take my shoes off, and collapse. But instead they took me to a traditional korean restaurant. All the sales guys were psyched we got asked out to dinner. Then I told the general I couldn't eat pork, so we got beef. Later the sales guys were like "Nice job! Beef is 5 times as expensive!"
We were in this room with sliding doors, a low table, and mats on the floor that we were supposed to sit on. The general made me sit in the center of the table as the guest of honor. He sat across from me and stared at my legs while I tried to find a way to sit in my skirt and not pull a Sharon Stone. One of the korean sales guys gave me his jacket to cover up. The general and I had a conversation, but I have no idea what he said because his english wasn't that great, even before he started drinking. Alcohol was flowing like the rain we had had all day.
I started to worry the general was trying to get me drunk, so I used a ruse that I learned about reading a book on Korean etiquette. You're never supposed to fill up a glass of alcohol until it's empty. The general caught on to this and started filling my glass, saying "we do this american style". So I started shifting my glass around with everyone else's. The sales guys were more than happy to drink my drinks since the general wasn't putting out for them, and it saved me from getting drunk.
As a side note, one of the sales guys told me Korea consumes the second largest amount of alcohol in the world. Russia is first. I totally believe it. I couldn't understand how everyone drank so much and was still standing.
I was sitting on my bad knee in a tremendous amount of pain. The food was great, marinated beef (cut with scissors because the koreans think having knives at dinner is rude, perhaps they worry about sharp instruments and drinking), this corn thing, tofu with hot peppers, some vegetable that was a really cool acid green color, 8 kinds of kim chee, and what was described to me in english as "vinegar soup". It's impossible to describe the taste, which was kind of like vinegar, but it's the coolest soup I've ever had.
The only real bad thing I did at the dinner was say something inappropriate to the general. He was telling me how he had been stationed at Lowry AFB and how he missed the winters in Colorado. I started to get excited about snow (it was so fucking hot in the room) and I said "DUDE! You should have SEEN the snow we got two years ago!"
The room went dead silent. The officers attending the dinner all paused, mid eating, and stared at the general. I was suddenly like oh my fucking god, did I just call the general dude???? Shit shit shit.
But, he laughed and told his troops that "dude" is an english term of affection, and that I called him that because he was so americanized I forgot he was korean. Uh. Nice excuse. The rest of the night everyone called each other dude because the general was doing it. One of the sales guys said that is my mark on korea and the government will never forget me because I did that at dinner.
Then the dinner was finally over. As I was standing outside the room putting on my heels (even in bare feet I was the tallest person there) and the general grabbed my arm to "help make steady of you". Then we went outside and I tried to shake the general's hand and thank him for dinner. He said "No shake, american style (the phrase that preceded all the inappropriate things that happened to me in korea)" and then he suctioned himself on to me like a little bear. I looked at the sales guys, unsure what to do since I couldn't move my arms. They finally peeled him off me and his troops escorted him back to the base.
We got back to the hotel and the sales guys insisted we get a drink. Because I was with them they could drink and eat for free. They were really psyched that the presentation went well (they were probably worried after the previous day's little shit show). More drinking. I had one beer and then tried to stay awake waiting for everyone else to finish their evening because it's considered rude to leave people when you are out with them.
But, I finally deserted everyone for the hotel because I was tired as hell. I got lost getting back to the hotel from the bar. Seoul is such a difficult city to get around in everyone has 3D GPS. There are all these side alleys and unmarked streets and it's easy to lose your way.
The final result of my trip is that the general wants me to come back and train his staff. My liver would never survive. Plus, I'm bad at the fake smiles when people talk to me and I have no idea what they are saying. Or so the sales guys tell me.
And, a quick word about them. They were the absolute sweetest, most thoughtful people I have ever worked with. They called me "the iron woman" because my computer bag was so heavy. They insisted on carrying it for me and had to switch off turns with it. They were always worried to get me the best food in any restaurant we went to. They ordered a huge thing of fruit at every bar we went to so I could eat dragon fruit (one of my favorite, except when it's dried out). They even called me on the bus back to the airport to make sure I got on the right bus.
They told me I should move to seoul and marry a guy there because they treat their women like they are queens. There's none of the chauvinism you find in some countries. So far seoul is my favorite country I've been to in Asia.
Unless you consider Turkey Asia. Which I don't.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
almost death by power point
So the main reason I came to Seoul was to do a seminar today on a military framework I support. I put together some slides, which were revised all Sunday night, which is why I didn't get any sleep. I thought I was presenting to 50 people.
I show up at the seminar and find out there's 200 people. I only had half the time I thought to do my presentation because it was being interpreted. My computer mouse died right as I was revising my presentation, 10 minutes before I had to give it. The interpreter was freaking out that she didn't have a paper copy to translate from because I couldn't get the copy off my computer without a mouse.
Anyway, those issues were overcome, but then right before my presentation they showed this cartoon about a knight slaying a dragon. I was standing at the podium like what the fuck is going on? At the end of the cartoon the woman running the seminar looked at me and was like "Go!" because the time schedule was so tight.
I fully admit to bungling my way through the presentation. Because of the computer problems and slide changes I didn't get to practice doing the presentation with the interpreter, and it was really hard. She was translating me almost sentence for sentence, and would sometimes interrupt me before I was finished talking to interpret and I would lose my train of thought. Not that I blame her and she did a very good job, it was my lack of experience presenting with an interpreter that was the problem. They did laugh at the one joke I made, and, when I realized the audience was totally confused by my presentation, I ended it and opened the floor to discussion.
It turns out, the audience's confusion was caused because they thought I was presenting on some other topic. Seems my compadres at the company I work for switched my topic without telling me.
The interpreter had warned me beforehand that no one would ask questions so not to even ask if anyone had a question. But, with time left over and the audience looking at me in a confused manner, I figured, why not? The first question was "why didn't you present on X topic and why did you present on Y topic". Yeah. Don't know the answer to that one...
Surprisingly, I got a lot of good questions, and that was really the best part of the presentation. I got the interest of a colonel whom I'm meeting with tomorrow. And I think it was more entertaining for the audience than the other presentations which didn't have questions.
Everyone else on my team seemed happy with the way things went. So I'm trying to not feel too badly about it. And at least I learned what to do in the future.
The highlight of the seminar was getting to try 5 different kinds of kim chee at lunch.
I show up at the seminar and find out there's 200 people. I only had half the time I thought to do my presentation because it was being interpreted. My computer mouse died right as I was revising my presentation, 10 minutes before I had to give it. The interpreter was freaking out that she didn't have a paper copy to translate from because I couldn't get the copy off my computer without a mouse.
Anyway, those issues were overcome, but then right before my presentation they showed this cartoon about a knight slaying a dragon. I was standing at the podium like what the fuck is going on? At the end of the cartoon the woman running the seminar looked at me and was like "Go!" because the time schedule was so tight.
I fully admit to bungling my way through the presentation. Because of the computer problems and slide changes I didn't get to practice doing the presentation with the interpreter, and it was really hard. She was translating me almost sentence for sentence, and would sometimes interrupt me before I was finished talking to interpret and I would lose my train of thought. Not that I blame her and she did a very good job, it was my lack of experience presenting with an interpreter that was the problem. They did laugh at the one joke I made, and, when I realized the audience was totally confused by my presentation, I ended it and opened the floor to discussion.
It turns out, the audience's confusion was caused because they thought I was presenting on some other topic. Seems my compadres at the company I work for switched my topic without telling me.
The interpreter had warned me beforehand that no one would ask questions so not to even ask if anyone had a question. But, with time left over and the audience looking at me in a confused manner, I figured, why not? The first question was "why didn't you present on X topic and why did you present on Y topic". Yeah. Don't know the answer to that one...
Surprisingly, I got a lot of good questions, and that was really the best part of the presentation. I got the interest of a colonel whom I'm meeting with tomorrow. And I think it was more entertaining for the audience than the other presentations which didn't have questions.
Everyone else on my team seemed happy with the way things went. So I'm trying to not feel too badly about it. And at least I learned what to do in the future.
The highlight of the seminar was getting to try 5 different kinds of kim chee at lunch.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
bulk head breakers and other seoul adventures
Well, this has been one of my more...interesting...trips.
To start off, I got to LA and was trying to take a bus to the international terminal. The problem is, I got on the wrong bus, and only realized when we started heading into downtown LA. I had mis-read the sign on the front of the bus. Blame it on being really tired. Anyway, the bus driver let me off about 15 minutes away from the airport and called one of his other bus buddies to pick me up. Then another bus passenger, who is a security guard at LAX gave me a free bus pass.
So I got on the other bus and the guy completely skipped his route to take me back to the airport. The catch is he was an adventist and kept trying to convert me. I listened politely since he did me a favor.
Then I got on the plane and luckily business wasn't that crowded. And I had a seat that reclined all the way back. That was great fun to play with until I broke it. I accidentally closed one of my shoes up in the chair and it took two stewardesses to pull it out. The guy sitting across the aisle from me was doing god knows what and ripped his plastic magazine holder off the wall. They couldn't fix that.
The kosher dinner that Korean Airlines had was crap. And it was the same dinner twice. The stewardesses brought me a bunch of fruit and cheese to eat. I was surprised as the kosher food is usually better than the regular stuff. I don't think I'm going to order it on the trip home.
Then I got into Seoul and had to take another bus to my hotel. The problem is, there are two intercontinental hotels. I went to the wrong one. They directed me to the right one but it took a while for me to find it. I ended up going to another wrong hotel, and a convention center with the same name as my hotel before I got here.
But, I'm here. The air conditioning is working. They have US plugs. And I don't have to leave for the office until 9 am. I might try to find the gym, or I may just go to the bar...
To start off, I got to LA and was trying to take a bus to the international terminal. The problem is, I got on the wrong bus, and only realized when we started heading into downtown LA. I had mis-read the sign on the front of the bus. Blame it on being really tired. Anyway, the bus driver let me off about 15 minutes away from the airport and called one of his other bus buddies to pick me up. Then another bus passenger, who is a security guard at LAX gave me a free bus pass.
So I got on the other bus and the guy completely skipped his route to take me back to the airport. The catch is he was an adventist and kept trying to convert me. I listened politely since he did me a favor.
Then I got on the plane and luckily business wasn't that crowded. And I had a seat that reclined all the way back. That was great fun to play with until I broke it. I accidentally closed one of my shoes up in the chair and it took two stewardesses to pull it out. The guy sitting across the aisle from me was doing god knows what and ripped his plastic magazine holder off the wall. They couldn't fix that.
The kosher dinner that Korean Airlines had was crap. And it was the same dinner twice. The stewardesses brought me a bunch of fruit and cheese to eat. I was surprised as the kosher food is usually better than the regular stuff. I don't think I'm going to order it on the trip home.
Then I got into Seoul and had to take another bus to my hotel. The problem is, there are two intercontinental hotels. I went to the wrong one. They directed me to the right one but it took a while for me to find it. I ended up going to another wrong hotel, and a convention center with the same name as my hotel before I got here.
But, I'm here. The air conditioning is working. They have US plugs. And I don't have to leave for the office until 9 am. I might try to find the gym, or I may just go to the bar...
Sunday, June 28, 2009
almost death by chocolate
I took time off today from running around like a maniac getting ready for my last minute trip to Seoul to go to the grocery. My parents are coming into town on Thursday (I won't be there, I'll be in Korea) and I had to get some food as the only thing in my house, pre-trip, that was edible was 6 bags of edamame, a box of cereal, and some month old feta cheese.
I was in one of the middle aisles looking for snacks to take on the plane with me. I normally only shop on the periphery of the grocery store, but this trip I had to go down some aisles to get the stuff my parents want. Anyway, I was leaning over to look at the biggest bag of Haribo gummi bears I've ever seen, when the bill of my cap hit what turned out to be a precariously balanced shelf of M&Ms. One of the bags slipped off, and like lemmings, the others followed. One bag hit me in the face and another hit my shoulder. I threw up my hand to try to stop the slide and accidentally hit a bag on the shelf above, and that shelf avalanched too.
I tried to get out of the way but one of the bags had broken open so I slipped on the pile of M&Ms that had come out of the bag. That caused me to step on another bag that also burst open. I tried to get away from that bag and tripped over a bag of peanut M&Ms. It broke open too. Every time I moved it seemed another bag would wedge itself between my foot and my flip flops.
The guy who had been stocking shelves at the end of the aisle came running over. I was going to try to run away but I was buried in M&Ms. He said something to me in spanish that I'm quite sure I'm glad I couldn't translate.
We put as many bags back on the shelf as we could (note: never buy M&Ms at the Safeway in five points) and then he wandered off muttering epithets at me. Hopefully he was going to get a broom. I almost fell again as I tried to push my cart out of the M&M mess. The whole time I was walking through the grocery M&Ms kept falling out of my cart and onto the floor. It was mortifying.
And then I got yelled at for going into the express lane. I tried to point out to the woman that there was no sign indicating it was the express lane, but she yelled at me "THE SIGN IS RIGHT THERE!", pointing to a sign that was one check out lane over.
And anyway, I only had 12 items. And the express lane is 15 items or less.
I will never, ever go grocery shopping again.
I was in one of the middle aisles looking for snacks to take on the plane with me. I normally only shop on the periphery of the grocery store, but this trip I had to go down some aisles to get the stuff my parents want. Anyway, I was leaning over to look at the biggest bag of Haribo gummi bears I've ever seen, when the bill of my cap hit what turned out to be a precariously balanced shelf of M&Ms. One of the bags slipped off, and like lemmings, the others followed. One bag hit me in the face and another hit my shoulder. I threw up my hand to try to stop the slide and accidentally hit a bag on the shelf above, and that shelf avalanched too.
I tried to get out of the way but one of the bags had broken open so I slipped on the pile of M&Ms that had come out of the bag. That caused me to step on another bag that also burst open. I tried to get away from that bag and tripped over a bag of peanut M&Ms. It broke open too. Every time I moved it seemed another bag would wedge itself between my foot and my flip flops.
The guy who had been stocking shelves at the end of the aisle came running over. I was going to try to run away but I was buried in M&Ms. He said something to me in spanish that I'm quite sure I'm glad I couldn't translate.
We put as many bags back on the shelf as we could (note: never buy M&Ms at the Safeway in five points) and then he wandered off muttering epithets at me. Hopefully he was going to get a broom. I almost fell again as I tried to push my cart out of the M&M mess. The whole time I was walking through the grocery M&Ms kept falling out of my cart and onto the floor. It was mortifying.
And then I got yelled at for going into the express lane. I tried to point out to the woman that there was no sign indicating it was the express lane, but she yelled at me "THE SIGN IS RIGHT THERE!", pointing to a sign that was one check out lane over.
And anyway, I only had 12 items. And the express lane is 15 items or less.
I will never, ever go grocery shopping again.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
everything back to normal, i.e. chaos
So in between evening meetings, making last minute arrangements to go to Korea next week, and a bunch of shit I have to do for work tomorrow, I called my friend X, told her to stop acting like a fucking cunt and that her friendship was important to me.
We brawled on the phone, and now she's fine. Everything back to normal. Which is good because I missed having her as a friend even if she can be an incorrigible bitch sometimes.
I'm also regretting not hooking up with that guy on Saturday. It would have been fun, and I could have talked my way out of it easily. Of course, if I'm going to fuck a girl, I should probably just fuck a girl.
I also finished the last 15 minutes of the city of lost children. It's one of my favorite movies I've seen in a while. There's a mad scientist who doesn't dream and can't cry. He lives in a tower in the middle of the ocean. Kidnapped kids. Midgets. Clones that tell the mad scientist their dreams because he can't have any of his own. It's an amazing film especially considering it was made in the 90s. I highly recommend it.
Back to fucking work...there's a lot I should write, but I'm just too tired.
We brawled on the phone, and now she's fine. Everything back to normal. Which is good because I missed having her as a friend even if she can be an incorrigible bitch sometimes.
I'm also regretting not hooking up with that guy on Saturday. It would have been fun, and I could have talked my way out of it easily. Of course, if I'm going to fuck a girl, I should probably just fuck a girl.
I also finished the last 15 minutes of the city of lost children. It's one of my favorite movies I've seen in a while. There's a mad scientist who doesn't dream and can't cry. He lives in a tower in the middle of the ocean. Kidnapped kids. Midgets. Clones that tell the mad scientist their dreams because he can't have any of his own. It's an amazing film especially considering it was made in the 90s. I highly recommend it.
Back to fucking work...there's a lot I should write, but I'm just too tired.
Monday, June 22, 2009
witch, bitch
On Saturday I went to a party for a girl that I've been good friends with since college. She just graduated from med school. I'll call her G.
Her family is filipino, so the parties are always big and a little crazy. I was introduced to many aunties and uncles. I couldn't remember any of their names. There were only a few caucasian people there and it made things interesting because everyone was speaking tagalog. I had no idea what was going on until the dancing started. After eating a bunch of traditional filipino food we were supposed to do these dances. After 3 songs I had a headache so I went outside on the balcony.
There I was joined by Fur, G's sister, and her partner Kelly. The only other caucasian guy, whom I went to college with, also came out. We sat around for a few hours smoking and drinking.
The guy, whom I'll call X, took one of my classes when I first started teaching karate. I was commenting to him that even though we hung out in college and have been to some parties since graduation, we've never had a real conversation. I always thought he was kind of uptight and a bit of a girl. But the more I talked to him the more I realized I was wrong.
I started out our real conversation asking him about his back, which he just had surgery on. I then said that he really hurt his back having sex with 4 cheerleaders at the same time. Fur and Kelly added to the story. X played along.
Then we started talking about masturbation, tarot card reading, ghosts, racing cars (X had spent the day on an auto cross course). Kelly considers herself a white witch and read our palms. It turns out X has a perfect 7 on his palm, which is good luck. My life line doesn't reach the end of my hand, which may not be a good thing. I am also, according to my birth time, and old spirit, which means I did bad things in my previous life so I got sent back here to learn my lesson. Based on the insanity that is my life these days, I must have had a lot of fun, whatever I was doing. My lines are light which supposedly means I'm a fragile spirit. I disagreed with that, but decided not to get into an argument with a stoned witch who was also consuming prodigious amounts of alcohol.
We eventually were kicked out of the place where the party was, and were going to go back to the hotel. G had ordered two cabs to take us back, but on the way to the party I was crammed in the back of a cab with two fairly obese women and one of their husbands. I don't like sitting on the laps of people I don't know. X offered to drive me to the party, and Fur and Kelly wanted to come with us too.
This, for some reason, set G off. When we got to the hotel she was being a pissy bitch. That made me mad because I totally re-arranged my schedule to go to her party. It's not like it's easy for me to make plans where I have to travel given my job. Then I found out she was pissed because I spent the whole night talking to X. I was like whatever. She's married, but had hooked up with X a few times while in college. Some how that meant that I wasn't even allowed to have a conversation with him.
So I hung out with G's husband on the balcony smoking, and then went inside to talk to Fur. We were sitting on the bed taking pictures of ourselves making faces. Fur was pretending to grab my tits. X came over and sat down next to us. Then G came over and literally sat almost on top of me to create a barrier between me and X. It was pretty awkward since G's husband was there too.
So X and I decided to leave. I gave G a hug good bye and she hissed in my ear "I can't BELIEVE you're leaving with him!" as if, by walking out the door with a guy, it should be assumed I was going to have sex with him. She then followed us to the elevator, stalking along behind us like some psycho girlfriend.
I called her the next day and she said she couldn't talk to me and that she was mad. I was like whatever. What kind of insane person acts like that? And it's not like she's in high school. She's in her thirties.
I am so annoyed I'm not going to call or email her. And the worst part is, she's mad at me for something I didn't do. So not only did I not get laid on Saturday, but I also now have a friend pissed off at me for no reason.
Women are fucking bitches. That is my last female friend I will ever have.
Her family is filipino, so the parties are always big and a little crazy. I was introduced to many aunties and uncles. I couldn't remember any of their names. There were only a few caucasian people there and it made things interesting because everyone was speaking tagalog. I had no idea what was going on until the dancing started. After eating a bunch of traditional filipino food we were supposed to do these dances. After 3 songs I had a headache so I went outside on the balcony.
There I was joined by Fur, G's sister, and her partner Kelly. The only other caucasian guy, whom I went to college with, also came out. We sat around for a few hours smoking and drinking.
The guy, whom I'll call X, took one of my classes when I first started teaching karate. I was commenting to him that even though we hung out in college and have been to some parties since graduation, we've never had a real conversation. I always thought he was kind of uptight and a bit of a girl. But the more I talked to him the more I realized I was wrong.
I started out our real conversation asking him about his back, which he just had surgery on. I then said that he really hurt his back having sex with 4 cheerleaders at the same time. Fur and Kelly added to the story. X played along.
Then we started talking about masturbation, tarot card reading, ghosts, racing cars (X had spent the day on an auto cross course). Kelly considers herself a white witch and read our palms. It turns out X has a perfect 7 on his palm, which is good luck. My life line doesn't reach the end of my hand, which may not be a good thing. I am also, according to my birth time, and old spirit, which means I did bad things in my previous life so I got sent back here to learn my lesson. Based on the insanity that is my life these days, I must have had a lot of fun, whatever I was doing. My lines are light which supposedly means I'm a fragile spirit. I disagreed with that, but decided not to get into an argument with a stoned witch who was also consuming prodigious amounts of alcohol.
We eventually were kicked out of the place where the party was, and were going to go back to the hotel. G had ordered two cabs to take us back, but on the way to the party I was crammed in the back of a cab with two fairly obese women and one of their husbands. I don't like sitting on the laps of people I don't know. X offered to drive me to the party, and Fur and Kelly wanted to come with us too.
This, for some reason, set G off. When we got to the hotel she was being a pissy bitch. That made me mad because I totally re-arranged my schedule to go to her party. It's not like it's easy for me to make plans where I have to travel given my job. Then I found out she was pissed because I spent the whole night talking to X. I was like whatever. She's married, but had hooked up with X a few times while in college. Some how that meant that I wasn't even allowed to have a conversation with him.
So I hung out with G's husband on the balcony smoking, and then went inside to talk to Fur. We were sitting on the bed taking pictures of ourselves making faces. Fur was pretending to grab my tits. X came over and sat down next to us. Then G came over and literally sat almost on top of me to create a barrier between me and X. It was pretty awkward since G's husband was there too.
So X and I decided to leave. I gave G a hug good bye and she hissed in my ear "I can't BELIEVE you're leaving with him!" as if, by walking out the door with a guy, it should be assumed I was going to have sex with him. She then followed us to the elevator, stalking along behind us like some psycho girlfriend.
I called her the next day and she said she couldn't talk to me and that she was mad. I was like whatever. What kind of insane person acts like that? And it's not like she's in high school. She's in her thirties.
I am so annoyed I'm not going to call or email her. And the worst part is, she's mad at me for something I didn't do. So not only did I not get laid on Saturday, but I also now have a friend pissed off at me for no reason.
Women are fucking bitches. That is my last female friend I will ever have.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
hurricane
Last night I had a dream about this guy I know.
We were running through this small, deserted amusement park. I think the location was St. Maarten, although there's no amusement park there. It was definitely a tropical place. All the colors in the dream were like technicolor. The sky was blue and pink and orange. Everything was wet because there had just been this huge downpour although that happened before my dream started, or I don't remember it being part of the dream. The guy and I were soaked.
He was holding my hand and dragging me behind him because I couldn't keep up he was running so fast. So I asked him why we were running so fast and he said there was a hurricane coming and if we got caught in it we would be killed. I looked behind us and saw this cloud thing which I guess was the hurricane. So we ran through all these brightly colored rides. There were horses that typically would be on a merry go round that were just laying on the ground. None of the roller coasters went anywhere, they were just tracks that ended in space.
So we got to the end of the amusement park and we were on a beach. But the ocean was gone. He looked out over this beach that extended all the way to the horizon, there were still tide pools filled with water and starfish, and he dropped my hand and said "oh my god". I was like "what's wrong? why did the ocean disappear?" And I looked at him and he was fading away. I tried to reach out and touch him but my hands went right through him.
Then he was gone and I could feel this big vacuum of air pulling me back towards the amusement park. I was afraid I would get impaled on one of the roller coaster tracks. I screamed, and woke up. I think I actually screamed in real life.
We were running through this small, deserted amusement park. I think the location was St. Maarten, although there's no amusement park there. It was definitely a tropical place. All the colors in the dream were like technicolor. The sky was blue and pink and orange. Everything was wet because there had just been this huge downpour although that happened before my dream started, or I don't remember it being part of the dream. The guy and I were soaked.
He was holding my hand and dragging me behind him because I couldn't keep up he was running so fast. So I asked him why we were running so fast and he said there was a hurricane coming and if we got caught in it we would be killed. I looked behind us and saw this cloud thing which I guess was the hurricane. So we ran through all these brightly colored rides. There were horses that typically would be on a merry go round that were just laying on the ground. None of the roller coasters went anywhere, they were just tracks that ended in space.
So we got to the end of the amusement park and we were on a beach. But the ocean was gone. He looked out over this beach that extended all the way to the horizon, there were still tide pools filled with water and starfish, and he dropped my hand and said "oh my god". I was like "what's wrong? why did the ocean disappear?" And I looked at him and he was fading away. I tried to reach out and touch him but my hands went right through him.
Then he was gone and I could feel this big vacuum of air pulling me back towards the amusement park. I was afraid I would get impaled on one of the roller coaster tracks. I screamed, and woke up. I think I actually screamed in real life.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
fucking bombs
I just met the sweetest little man. He brought me a pizza. I'm chained to my desk until this presentation I've been working on is done, and the pizza from their place is good.
Anyway, he barely had any fingers. And he had a big ol' muff chin. Definitely a muslim. I was talking to him and he said had his fingers blown off in an explosion. He has scars on his face as well. And you know...he was happy as could be to be here in the jingoistic US delivering pizzas to drunk people working on presentations.
I was really touched by this little man. I don't know, it was something about his frailness, his disfigurement, and his obvious happiness. I found out about his fingers when I went to pay him for the pizza. Then I took a good look at his face and saw the other scars. He was very shy about telling me what happened. I made up 99% of the story I have in my head about him from the 1% he told me.
You can see where the thousand mile stare is starting to fade from his eyes. I gave him a nectarine (had to go to the market around the corner to get more this evening since I accidentally left my other ones at my hotel in West Virginia) and he got even more shiny as a person. For the record, I gave him a real tip too.
This meeting with this pizza man was, I think, a bitch slap back to reality. Why is everyone here on the east coast so miserable?
Perhaps I have not done justice to this man. In any case, I am grateful I ordered a pizza tonight. I am grateful that I met this little man with no fingers.
Anyway, he barely had any fingers. And he had a big ol' muff chin. Definitely a muslim. I was talking to him and he said had his fingers blown off in an explosion. He has scars on his face as well. And you know...he was happy as could be to be here in the jingoistic US delivering pizzas to drunk people working on presentations.
I was really touched by this little man. I don't know, it was something about his frailness, his disfigurement, and his obvious happiness. I found out about his fingers when I went to pay him for the pizza. Then I took a good look at his face and saw the other scars. He was very shy about telling me what happened. I made up 99% of the story I have in my head about him from the 1% he told me.
You can see where the thousand mile stare is starting to fade from his eyes. I gave him a nectarine (had to go to the market around the corner to get more this evening since I accidentally left my other ones at my hotel in West Virginia) and he got even more shiny as a person. For the record, I gave him a real tip too.
This meeting with this pizza man was, I think, a bitch slap back to reality. Why is everyone here on the east coast so miserable?
Perhaps I have not done justice to this man. In any case, I am grateful I ordered a pizza tonight. I am grateful that I met this little man with no fingers.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
have gun, will travel, like sand
I just found out today that I'm deploying to the middle east at the end of July. I'll be working in Egypt, Pakistan, Jordan and the UAE. I'm really excited about a change of scene. And I'm lucky my publisher and HP 2.0 are taking care of things state side.
I have a lot of shit to do between now and then. Hopefully it will all get done. I'm going to try to leave a week early so I can visit my brother in Austria and see him compete in this huge robot competition. Maybe swing by the UK so I can personally deliver the painting I made for the office there.
I'm going to buy the coolest hat to wear. And brush up on my hardware skills.
I have a lot of shit to do between now and then. Hopefully it will all get done. I'm going to try to leave a week early so I can visit my brother in Austria and see him compete in this huge robot competition. Maybe swing by the UK so I can personally deliver the painting I made for the office there.
I'm going to buy the coolest hat to wear. And brush up on my hardware skills.
Monday, June 15, 2009
and while we're on the subject of getting fucked...
I've been having a lot of conversations about love lately, with friends and my customer. Everyone has problems.
But, I think the thing that's causing their problems is that they all make bad decisions. They get into relationships that aren't what they need, and then they are afraid to get out of them because they don't want to be alone. I know, I've done that myself.
The thing is, love is an emotion like any other, but it gets treated like the string theory of humanity. It's not acceptable that I get pissed and murder someone, but it's okay if I'm in a relationship and I'm screwing around with someone else. Or worse, that I get into a relationship with someone, and then let myself believe that I'm in love with someone else, and so I'm lying to multiple people about my feelings, and my feelings aren't even real.
I really don't get that at all. You don't have to believe that there's only one person in the world you can love. But if that's what you're selling to your partner, you have a responsibility to live up to that promise. Of course there are a lot of bad relationships out there, but it's the fault of the two people who won't get out of them. And no relationship is going to be perfect 100% of the time. That's why you have to work at it.
I think relationships are like sports. I love to run. I would be sad if I couldn't run. Sure there are days when I'm feeling tired and don't want to go for a run. And I've hit many plateaus where I didn't get any better. Every time you hit a plateau you have to ask yourself: are you going to quit and find another sport, or do you care enough to stick with it? Since running is something I will always care about, I would never quit, even if I had a few months of bad workouts.
Following that analogy, think of a relationship where one of the people isn't put much in. That's like having a running partner who is constantly showing up late, or not at all, and then running badly because he or she hasn't worked out in a while. How long would you continue to call up that partner for a run?
Yet with love, we do that all the time. We put up with shit behavior waiting for the other person to make a decision. And it makes our job harder because on the run we are having to adjust our pace for the other person because the other person isn't putting his or her full effort into it.
Love is also like sports in that few people are really good at multiple sports. If you are trying to have a relationship with two people you are doing the same thing. You'll either be great at one and suck at the other, or you will be pretty good at both but never reach your full potential.
I think that most of the people in the world are just really mediocre when it comes to love. They take a partner down and then resent the partner. They constantly fuck around instead of trying. For people who see love as more of an art than something to do at night before you go to bed, this is very frustrating.
It's not that most people can't love. Most people in the world are amazing at something, either writing, sports, painting, or whatever. But they don't have the discipline to grow their talent. Then they get bitter. Love is like your IQ - if you are constantly working and exploring your intelligence, you'll get smarter. If you don't, you get stupid.
Now that I've been single for a long time I find it hard to deal with shit show guys that I would have put up with in the past. I know what I want and don't feel like waiting around for someone who hasn't figured things out yet. I don't want to deal with yet another guy who can't commit or stop fucking other people on the side. Or who lies or constantly changes his mind about how he feels.
We've all been given a great gift which is the capacity to love other people. And it's wasted, every day. If you don't understand love, you need to grow the fuck up. It's not that hard.
But, I think the thing that's causing their problems is that they all make bad decisions. They get into relationships that aren't what they need, and then they are afraid to get out of them because they don't want to be alone. I know, I've done that myself.
The thing is, love is an emotion like any other, but it gets treated like the string theory of humanity. It's not acceptable that I get pissed and murder someone, but it's okay if I'm in a relationship and I'm screwing around with someone else. Or worse, that I get into a relationship with someone, and then let myself believe that I'm in love with someone else, and so I'm lying to multiple people about my feelings, and my feelings aren't even real.
I really don't get that at all. You don't have to believe that there's only one person in the world you can love. But if that's what you're selling to your partner, you have a responsibility to live up to that promise. Of course there are a lot of bad relationships out there, but it's the fault of the two people who won't get out of them. And no relationship is going to be perfect 100% of the time. That's why you have to work at it.
I think relationships are like sports. I love to run. I would be sad if I couldn't run. Sure there are days when I'm feeling tired and don't want to go for a run. And I've hit many plateaus where I didn't get any better. Every time you hit a plateau you have to ask yourself: are you going to quit and find another sport, or do you care enough to stick with it? Since running is something I will always care about, I would never quit, even if I had a few months of bad workouts.
Following that analogy, think of a relationship where one of the people isn't put much in. That's like having a running partner who is constantly showing up late, or not at all, and then running badly because he or she hasn't worked out in a while. How long would you continue to call up that partner for a run?
Yet with love, we do that all the time. We put up with shit behavior waiting for the other person to make a decision. And it makes our job harder because on the run we are having to adjust our pace for the other person because the other person isn't putting his or her full effort into it.
Love is also like sports in that few people are really good at multiple sports. If you are trying to have a relationship with two people you are doing the same thing. You'll either be great at one and suck at the other, or you will be pretty good at both but never reach your full potential.
I think that most of the people in the world are just really mediocre when it comes to love. They take a partner down and then resent the partner. They constantly fuck around instead of trying. For people who see love as more of an art than something to do at night before you go to bed, this is very frustrating.
It's not that most people can't love. Most people in the world are amazing at something, either writing, sports, painting, or whatever. But they don't have the discipline to grow their talent. Then they get bitter. Love is like your IQ - if you are constantly working and exploring your intelligence, you'll get smarter. If you don't, you get stupid.
Now that I've been single for a long time I find it hard to deal with shit show guys that I would have put up with in the past. I know what I want and don't feel like waiting around for someone who hasn't figured things out yet. I don't want to deal with yet another guy who can't commit or stop fucking other people on the side. Or who lies or constantly changes his mind about how he feels.
We've all been given a great gift which is the capacity to love other people. And it's wasted, every day. If you don't understand love, you need to grow the fuck up. It's not that hard.
to all the guys I've fucked before
For whatever weird reason, I’ve been getting emails and phone calls from a bunch of my ex boyfriends, 4 to be exact. They are all married with children.
The nature of these emails has nothing to do with how I’m doing or how their families are doing. They are about how they would really like to sleep with me. I am getting requests for porn stories about what I would do if I slept with them, and suggestions that I meet these guys, who are all geographically dispersed, somewhere where we could enact these porn stories they want me to write.
It makes no difference that I shut these guys down every time. They think it’s either challenging or funny and persist.
So, here’s the no bullshit answer. You have a wife. You have kids. I didn’t make that decision, you did. To imply that I might be happy just fucking you on the side is insane. First of all, if you were that good in bed, I would still be with you. Second of all, I am not going to put some woman in the same position I’ve been in myself, having a partner cheating, or trying to cheat on the side. Third, unless you’ve told your wife what you are doing, you are a coward, and I find that immensely unattractive.
Here’s the deal. If you don’t love your wife, leave her. And don’t say it has anything to do with me. It’s really unfair to stay in an unhappy relationship just because you are too fucking lazy or whatever to find someone who will make you happy. Don’t involve outsiders in your fucked up relationship, because all it does is fuck everyone up. If you just need someone to make you feel sexy, hire someone. I’m sure there are plenty of chat rooms where you can pay someone to talk dirty to you. I have no desire to talk dirty to you. In fact, your behavior is a huge turn off.
Oh, and the excuse about not being able to leave your wife because she’s been at home with the kids and can’t get a job? Bad decision on your part for marrying a woman with no skills. And you’re shocked that you’re bored now? Give me a break. You wanted a little woman to push around and to push kids out of her cunt. She’s fat and boring now. You set the situation up so that would happen.
And your kids? Trust me, being around two parents that hate each other is not better than if you leave. Chances are you aren’t doing much for your kids anyway. They might miss you occasionally but probably not as much as you think, especially since kids pick up on the fact that you find them annoying. They know you are complaining to everyone how you don’t have time to do anything because of them.
Failing that, why not put some effort into trying to save your relationship? Go to counseling and pay someone. I’m tired of giving you free advice and getting only a headache in return. But here’s a free piece of advice before I cut you off. Trying to fuck someone else while your current relationship is going down the shitter is not a good way to fix things. It’s obvious, I know, but you guys aren’t coming across as being very bright.
You find me sexy because I am. It’s not my fault you married someone who isn’t anymore. It’s probably your fault for being a dick to her. So, be a man and do what you should do. Stop whining and bothering me. Figure out your fucking life and do something about it.
And no, you don't have to tell me what you're doing. I really, really don't give a fuck. But you can keep reading my blog. You need one bright spot in your pathetic life.
The nature of these emails has nothing to do with how I’m doing or how their families are doing. They are about how they would really like to sleep with me. I am getting requests for porn stories about what I would do if I slept with them, and suggestions that I meet these guys, who are all geographically dispersed, somewhere where we could enact these porn stories they want me to write.
It makes no difference that I shut these guys down every time. They think it’s either challenging or funny and persist.
So, here’s the no bullshit answer. You have a wife. You have kids. I didn’t make that decision, you did. To imply that I might be happy just fucking you on the side is insane. First of all, if you were that good in bed, I would still be with you. Second of all, I am not going to put some woman in the same position I’ve been in myself, having a partner cheating, or trying to cheat on the side. Third, unless you’ve told your wife what you are doing, you are a coward, and I find that immensely unattractive.
Here’s the deal. If you don’t love your wife, leave her. And don’t say it has anything to do with me. It’s really unfair to stay in an unhappy relationship just because you are too fucking lazy or whatever to find someone who will make you happy. Don’t involve outsiders in your fucked up relationship, because all it does is fuck everyone up. If you just need someone to make you feel sexy, hire someone. I’m sure there are plenty of chat rooms where you can pay someone to talk dirty to you. I have no desire to talk dirty to you. In fact, your behavior is a huge turn off.
Oh, and the excuse about not being able to leave your wife because she’s been at home with the kids and can’t get a job? Bad decision on your part for marrying a woman with no skills. And you’re shocked that you’re bored now? Give me a break. You wanted a little woman to push around and to push kids out of her cunt. She’s fat and boring now. You set the situation up so that would happen.
And your kids? Trust me, being around two parents that hate each other is not better than if you leave. Chances are you aren’t doing much for your kids anyway. They might miss you occasionally but probably not as much as you think, especially since kids pick up on the fact that you find them annoying. They know you are complaining to everyone how you don’t have time to do anything because of them.
Failing that, why not put some effort into trying to save your relationship? Go to counseling and pay someone. I’m tired of giving you free advice and getting only a headache in return. But here’s a free piece of advice before I cut you off. Trying to fuck someone else while your current relationship is going down the shitter is not a good way to fix things. It’s obvious, I know, but you guys aren’t coming across as being very bright.
You find me sexy because I am. It’s not my fault you married someone who isn’t anymore. It’s probably your fault for being a dick to her. So, be a man and do what you should do. Stop whining and bothering me. Figure out your fucking life and do something about it.
And no, you don't have to tell me what you're doing. I really, really don't give a fuck. But you can keep reading my blog. You need one bright spot in your pathetic life.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
will not dig a ditch for dinner
On saturday a work colleague invited myself and my friend Neil to dinner at his girlfriend's house. I'd met her once and wasn't very fond of her, but Neil liked her so I agreed we would go.
Neilski and I went to the baltimore museum, and then we walked around the sculpture garden, and then drove to the girlfriend's house on Solomon's Island. We got lost because Neil was telling me this hilarious story and we forgot to look for our exit off the highway. We found it in a roundabout way and were only a half hour late. My colleague, we'll call him C, did not think it was funny when I called him from the girlfriend's (we'll call her G) porch to say that we were really lost. Even though he was standing only 10 feet away from me he didn't notice and was getting all pissed that I was going to be late and when I finally told him to turn around he didn't even smile when he saw me.
G walked up to me and gave me a hug. She was either totally coked up or really drunk. She was acting insane. She went to get us drinks and Neil looked at me and said "do you think they didn't really want us to come?" I was pissed because I wanted to just hang out with Neil in Baltimore but C insisted we come to dinner. And now that we were there they were acting weird.
C told us we were having kabobs and that we had to make them because he was busy doing something else. Neil and I were just looking at each other laughing. So we got to work. I first made an Audrey Hepburn kabob out of filet mignon, a zucchini for her dress, red peppers for her lips, and then a mushroom for a hat. I also made a sail boat for C, who sails, that had an onion for a seagull. I made Neil two models that were mad at each other. Then I made a christmas tree, a fox, and a suspicious looking man with a squash for a hat.
C came in from where ever he was and asked why it was taking me so long to make kabobs. I showed him what I made and all he said was "you didn't put enough meat on them! make some that are all meat since you used up all the vegetables!" Neil said my kabobs were nice though. He ate both models. G said I had "sexualized" the kabobs. She almost didn't eat one. C ate the boat.
We sat down to dinner and G dominated the conversation to the point no one could say anything. I kept kicking Neil under the table. A few times when Neil tried to talk G would interrupt him as if she didn't notice. C tried putting his hand on G once to get her to shut up for two seconds and she said "oh, I know, I'm talking TOOOOOO much". And then she kept right on talking. It would have been bearable if it had been an interesting talk, but she was going on and on about how much money she has, how she never entertains without having hired help (guess Neil and I were the hired help), and how everything in the world is fucked up. Nothing she said was very coherent. She threw in a few digs at C about how her mom thinks he isn't good enough for her because he's not rich. That pissed me off.
Then we walked around her garden and got a lecture about her "fabulous" trees, even though she was calling the trees by their wrong names. Neil tried to correct her once and got his head ripped off. Then Neil said that if he lived at her house he would run around the yard naked all the time. She was like "that is just NOT GOING TO HAPPEN!" as if Neil had suggested we all do that, immediately. I was walking behind Neil because I was laughing so hard at her reaction I didn't want anyone to see me.
I ended up doing the dishes. She just piled them up in my arms and said "rinse these and then run the dish washer". Oh, uh, I'm the maid?
Finally we got to her back porch, where there is a water leak. By then the sun was going down. She suggested, and I am NOT making this up, that Neil and I might want to dig up the leaky pipe since she had provided us with dinner. She seriously wanted us to dig a 10 foot trench in her back yard. It was unbelievable.
C tried to get us to stay for a glass of wine but Neil said we were both tired and we left. We laughed the whole way back to baltimore, but not just about G. My favorite story Neil told was about his "bad boy papers", but that's not one I can share here.
I got home at 1230 this morning, didn't get lost, but did get stuck in a torrential downpour.
Neilski and I went to the baltimore museum, and then we walked around the sculpture garden, and then drove to the girlfriend's house on Solomon's Island. We got lost because Neil was telling me this hilarious story and we forgot to look for our exit off the highway. We found it in a roundabout way and were only a half hour late. My colleague, we'll call him C, did not think it was funny when I called him from the girlfriend's (we'll call her G) porch to say that we were really lost. Even though he was standing only 10 feet away from me he didn't notice and was getting all pissed that I was going to be late and when I finally told him to turn around he didn't even smile when he saw me.
G walked up to me and gave me a hug. She was either totally coked up or really drunk. She was acting insane. She went to get us drinks and Neil looked at me and said "do you think they didn't really want us to come?" I was pissed because I wanted to just hang out with Neil in Baltimore but C insisted we come to dinner. And now that we were there they were acting weird.
C told us we were having kabobs and that we had to make them because he was busy doing something else. Neil and I were just looking at each other laughing. So we got to work. I first made an Audrey Hepburn kabob out of filet mignon, a zucchini for her dress, red peppers for her lips, and then a mushroom for a hat. I also made a sail boat for C, who sails, that had an onion for a seagull. I made Neil two models that were mad at each other. Then I made a christmas tree, a fox, and a suspicious looking man with a squash for a hat.
C came in from where ever he was and asked why it was taking me so long to make kabobs. I showed him what I made and all he said was "you didn't put enough meat on them! make some that are all meat since you used up all the vegetables!" Neil said my kabobs were nice though. He ate both models. G said I had "sexualized" the kabobs. She almost didn't eat one. C ate the boat.
We sat down to dinner and G dominated the conversation to the point no one could say anything. I kept kicking Neil under the table. A few times when Neil tried to talk G would interrupt him as if she didn't notice. C tried putting his hand on G once to get her to shut up for two seconds and she said "oh, I know, I'm talking TOOOOOO much". And then she kept right on talking. It would have been bearable if it had been an interesting talk, but she was going on and on about how much money she has, how she never entertains without having hired help (guess Neil and I were the hired help), and how everything in the world is fucked up. Nothing she said was very coherent. She threw in a few digs at C about how her mom thinks he isn't good enough for her because he's not rich. That pissed me off.
Then we walked around her garden and got a lecture about her "fabulous" trees, even though she was calling the trees by their wrong names. Neil tried to correct her once and got his head ripped off. Then Neil said that if he lived at her house he would run around the yard naked all the time. She was like "that is just NOT GOING TO HAPPEN!" as if Neil had suggested we all do that, immediately. I was walking behind Neil because I was laughing so hard at her reaction I didn't want anyone to see me.
I ended up doing the dishes. She just piled them up in my arms and said "rinse these and then run the dish washer". Oh, uh, I'm the maid?
Finally we got to her back porch, where there is a water leak. By then the sun was going down. She suggested, and I am NOT making this up, that Neil and I might want to dig up the leaky pipe since she had provided us with dinner. She seriously wanted us to dig a 10 foot trench in her back yard. It was unbelievable.
C tried to get us to stay for a glass of wine but Neil said we were both tired and we left. We laughed the whole way back to baltimore, but not just about G. My favorite story Neil told was about his "bad boy papers", but that's not one I can share here.
I got home at 1230 this morning, didn't get lost, but did get stuck in a torrential downpour.
friday night bar fight
My great week in WVA was ruined friday afternoon. I thought I was going to get out of work on time. But no, my customer found a bug in the software tool I support that was a show stopper.
I worked on it until around 7 and then was too tired to continue. S, a woman who works for my customer, was leaving around the same time and invited me to go to dinner with her.
S is a bit younger than me, and really cute. She's married but wants to divorce her husband. Half the time anyway. The other half she talks about how great he is. We had dinner and I ate my salad and just let her talk.
The bar was filling up with noisy kids so I paid the bill and got ready to leave. S wanted to hang out longer, and since I haven't exactly been a social butterfly, I agreed to go out with her. We left WVA and went to a bar in Sterling VA. I got to be sober driver.
First S called her husband and he showed up at the bar. I thought that was weird. Then she proceeded to try to get him to hit on me. That was more weird. Her husband is a total tool who told me that he did classified stuff, and that he couldn't even tell me where he had been stationed when he was in the air force. I was like whatever dude, you don't even have to have a poly to do your job. I got bored with him and was ignoring him and then S got into a fight with him and I was thinking this sucks. I was really tired and just wanted to leave but her husband left instead.
Then S called this guy who is one of her husband's best friends, and he showed up at the bar right after S's husband left. He was all over her comforting her about the fight. I meanwhile found two very nice guys from India to occupy myself with. Then S started trying to foist her husband's friend, we'll call him M, on me. I started talking to him about software since we didn't have much else in common. S got pissed suddenly and said "if you guys are going to have some boring technical conversation that I can't be in I'm going to talk to someone else!" She stalked off and started talking to some guy at the end of the bar.
The next thing I knew she was back to our little group in tears. It seems she had picked a fight with the guy at the end of the bar and he told her "don't divorce your husband until he pays for plastic surgery to fix your face". There's nothing wrong with her face. I was like "he's just being a dick" but she was crying hysterically. To get her to stop I said "what do you want me to do?" and she said "go kick his ass". The guy over heard her and tried to pick a fight with me. He was like "Oh, you're going to kick my ass?" and then continued on a really mean rant about how I must be a lesbian, blah blah blah. By then I really did want to kick his ass but the female bartender who had been serving me non-alcoholic drinks kicked him out.
Then S and M started commiserating on how no one was ever going to love them, etc. I was getting more and more pissed. There's nothing wrong with either of them, they are making their own problems, and fuck, they live in a place crawling with singles. So I started going off on them because their pity party was getting me down.
Then M started crying, along with S, and said that he had been in love with a woman who was "the one" but that she had died of cancer. This made S cry even harder. I knew the story was total bullshit. The bar was closed by that point so we went out to the parking lot and I basically called M a lying sack of shit to his face. I told him he was fucked up for fucking S (it wasn't hard to deduce, over the course of the evening, that something was going on between them). I told both of them to stop being fuck ups. I guess something I said must have made sense because S stopped crying and we had a great conversation on the drive home. And M sent me an email yesterday saying it was great to meet me.
I got to S's house at 230 in the morning. She was really drunk and couldn't remember directions back to WVA so she invited me in the house so she could ask her husband directions. They got into this huge shouting match so I just left and guessed the way home. I guessed wrong and ended up in Luray, VA. I finally stopped at a gas station and figured out where I was. Got in at 4 am.
I am too old for this shit.
I worked on it until around 7 and then was too tired to continue. S, a woman who works for my customer, was leaving around the same time and invited me to go to dinner with her.
S is a bit younger than me, and really cute. She's married but wants to divorce her husband. Half the time anyway. The other half she talks about how great he is. We had dinner and I ate my salad and just let her talk.
The bar was filling up with noisy kids so I paid the bill and got ready to leave. S wanted to hang out longer, and since I haven't exactly been a social butterfly, I agreed to go out with her. We left WVA and went to a bar in Sterling VA. I got to be sober driver.
First S called her husband and he showed up at the bar. I thought that was weird. Then she proceeded to try to get him to hit on me. That was more weird. Her husband is a total tool who told me that he did classified stuff, and that he couldn't even tell me where he had been stationed when he was in the air force. I was like whatever dude, you don't even have to have a poly to do your job. I got bored with him and was ignoring him and then S got into a fight with him and I was thinking this sucks. I was really tired and just wanted to leave but her husband left instead.
Then S called this guy who is one of her husband's best friends, and he showed up at the bar right after S's husband left. He was all over her comforting her about the fight. I meanwhile found two very nice guys from India to occupy myself with. Then S started trying to foist her husband's friend, we'll call him M, on me. I started talking to him about software since we didn't have much else in common. S got pissed suddenly and said "if you guys are going to have some boring technical conversation that I can't be in I'm going to talk to someone else!" She stalked off and started talking to some guy at the end of the bar.
The next thing I knew she was back to our little group in tears. It seems she had picked a fight with the guy at the end of the bar and he told her "don't divorce your husband until he pays for plastic surgery to fix your face". There's nothing wrong with her face. I was like "he's just being a dick" but she was crying hysterically. To get her to stop I said "what do you want me to do?" and she said "go kick his ass". The guy over heard her and tried to pick a fight with me. He was like "Oh, you're going to kick my ass?" and then continued on a really mean rant about how I must be a lesbian, blah blah blah. By then I really did want to kick his ass but the female bartender who had been serving me non-alcoholic drinks kicked him out.
Then S and M started commiserating on how no one was ever going to love them, etc. I was getting more and more pissed. There's nothing wrong with either of them, they are making their own problems, and fuck, they live in a place crawling with singles. So I started going off on them because their pity party was getting me down.
Then M started crying, along with S, and said that he had been in love with a woman who was "the one" but that she had died of cancer. This made S cry even harder. I knew the story was total bullshit. The bar was closed by that point so we went out to the parking lot and I basically called M a lying sack of shit to his face. I told him he was fucked up for fucking S (it wasn't hard to deduce, over the course of the evening, that something was going on between them). I told both of them to stop being fuck ups. I guess something I said must have made sense because S stopped crying and we had a great conversation on the drive home. And M sent me an email yesterday saying it was great to meet me.
I got to S's house at 230 in the morning. She was really drunk and couldn't remember directions back to WVA so she invited me in the house so she could ask her husband directions. They got into this huge shouting match so I just left and guessed the way home. I guessed wrong and ended up in Luray, VA. I finally stopped at a gas station and figured out where I was. Got in at 4 am.
I am too old for this shit.
Friday, June 5, 2009
decorated, devoted, discharged - please sign this petition
From an email sent to me about Vic from his sister Angie:
Eighteen years in the Air Force. Four-hundred combat hours. Nine air medals. These are some of the accomplishments of my brother, Lt. Col. Victor Fehrenbach.
Despite this stellar record, he is getting fired under "Don't Ask, Don't Tell." He was served with a discharge notice last fall.One discriminatory law, "Don't Ask, Don't Tell," will likely end my brother's distinguished career.My family recently signed a petition to urge Air Force Secretary Michael B. Donley to let my brother continue to serve his country. Will you sign it now?
http://www.sldn.org/Fehrenbach
Of course, my brother is only the latest in a long line of service members who have been fired after years of distinguished service -- all because they're gay.
But his story illustrates just how absurd and unfair the law is.
It is estimated that the Air Force has spent $25 million training Victor, and he's put that training to good use over the past 18 years. After 9/11, he was hand-picked to patrol the air space over Washington , D.C. to protect the city from further attacks.He was then deployed to Afghanistan , and later Iraq . Over the course of Victor's career, he's logged 88 combat missions and won nine air medals -- one of them for Heroism.
Now, he's two years away from retirement -- facing not just the end of his career, but the loss of his pension as well.All Victor wants to do is continue to serve his country. He's ready and willing to deploy again, and serve his country in any way he can.Join my family and me, and sign the petition to Air Force Secretary Donley to let Victor keep his job:
http://www.sldn.org/Fehrenbach
Thank you for your support, and for all you do in this fight for the freedom to serve.
Sincerely, Angela Trumbauer USAF, enlisted August 1985 - March 1990
Eighteen years in the Air Force. Four-hundred combat hours. Nine air medals. These are some of the accomplishments of my brother, Lt. Col. Victor Fehrenbach.
Despite this stellar record, he is getting fired under "Don't Ask, Don't Tell." He was served with a discharge notice last fall.One discriminatory law, "Don't Ask, Don't Tell," will likely end my brother's distinguished career.My family recently signed a petition to urge Air Force Secretary Michael B. Donley to let my brother continue to serve his country. Will you sign it now?
http://www.sldn.org/Fehrenbach
Of course, my brother is only the latest in a long line of service members who have been fired after years of distinguished service -- all because they're gay.
But his story illustrates just how absurd and unfair the law is.
It is estimated that the Air Force has spent $25 million training Victor, and he's put that training to good use over the past 18 years. After 9/11, he was hand-picked to patrol the air space over Washington , D.C. to protect the city from further attacks.He was then deployed to Afghanistan , and later Iraq . Over the course of Victor's career, he's logged 88 combat missions and won nine air medals -- one of them for Heroism.
Now, he's two years away from retirement -- facing not just the end of his career, but the loss of his pension as well.All Victor wants to do is continue to serve his country. He's ready and willing to deploy again, and serve his country in any way he can.Join my family and me, and sign the petition to Air Force Secretary Donley to let Victor keep his job:
http://www.sldn.org/Fehrenbach
Thank you for your support, and for all you do in this fight for the freedom to serve.
Sincerely, Angela Trumbauer USAF, enlisted August 1985 - March 1990
Thursday, June 4, 2009
whack-a-mole
Besides the rides, we also played some games at the park. We were supposed to have gotten tickets to play them at the entrance, but we didn’t, so W, X, Y, and Z ended up getting these women who worked at the park to give them free tickets.
They found this game called whack-a-mole and decided we should all play. I’ve never even seen the game before, and had no idea what to do. X said “Wait until the mole comes out of the hole, and then you hit it with your mallet” (we each had a huge rubber mallet). My concept of the game was that the moles were going to shoot out of the hole and try to attack me at which point I would hit them with my mallet.
The game started and everyone went crazy except for me. I wasn’t sure if points might be deducted if I hit a hole that didn’t have a mole in it. Also, the moles were coming out of the holes, but just barely. I thought the game was just warming up or something.
“What the fuck are you doing???? Hit the moles!” X yelled at me. I was like “When are they going to come out of the holes?” He was like “They’re coming out NOW you IDIOT!” I hit two before the game ended and had the lowest score ever. After that I didn’t play any more games because the guys kept making so much fun of me.
X won a red stuffed animal for whack-a-mole and proceeded to throw it at people. He also kept doing obscene things with it. Y won a sea horse at a mammoth racing game, and X and Y kept insulting each other’s stuffed animals. Then I grabbed Y’s sea horse and stuffed it down the back of his pants so it looked like a tail. He was walking around wiggling his ass at people.
I’ve decided if things go to shit with my company in the US, I’m definitely moving to the euro office.
They found this game called whack-a-mole and decided we should all play. I’ve never even seen the game before, and had no idea what to do. X said “Wait until the mole comes out of the hole, and then you hit it with your mallet” (we each had a huge rubber mallet). My concept of the game was that the moles were going to shoot out of the hole and try to attack me at which point I would hit them with my mallet.
The game started and everyone went crazy except for me. I wasn’t sure if points might be deducted if I hit a hole that didn’t have a mole in it. Also, the moles were coming out of the holes, but just barely. I thought the game was just warming up or something.
“What the fuck are you doing???? Hit the moles!” X yelled at me. I was like “When are they going to come out of the holes?” He was like “They’re coming out NOW you IDIOT!” I hit two before the game ended and had the lowest score ever. After that I didn’t play any more games because the guys kept making so much fun of me.
X won a red stuffed animal for whack-a-mole and proceeded to throw it at people. He also kept doing obscene things with it. Y won a sea horse at a mammoth racing game, and X and Y kept insulting each other’s stuffed animals. Then I grabbed Y’s sea horse and stuffed it down the back of his pants so it looked like a tail. He was walking around wiggling his ass at people.
I’ve decided if things go to shit with my company in the US, I’m definitely moving to the euro office.
the perverted yeti
I spent the past 3 days at my company’s software conference . My suit got a lot of compliments, and I called Nordstrom’s so I could send Jessica a thank you gift certificate from Starbucks, but she quit! Wonder what’s up with that.
I spent most of my time with the European contingent of my company as the US consultants were kind of boring. The first night of the conference I stayed up almost all night talking about geeky architecture stuff, and only got 3 hours of sleep. I was exhausted after I finished my presentations so I was going to skip the evening’s entertainment to get some sleep.
But the euros talked me into going to this park at Disney called the wild kingdom. At first I didn’t want to go because I thought there might be snakes there. But really it was a roller coaster park with a tropical theme. Though the guys I was with would, without warning yelled “OH MY GOD! A SNAKE!” just to see me panic.
I’ll call the guys I was hanging out with W, X, Y, and Z. They are all senior management types (i.e. they don’t do any work hee hee). They proceeded to get drunk as soon as we got to the park and then they started behaving badly, but in the most fucking hilarious way.
First we went on this roller coaster called Everest. I was riding with X, and he grabbed my hand as we went through the part of the roller coaster where they take your picture. So I had a stupid look on my face in the picture and X was clinging to me like a scared little kid. I laughed my ass off.
Then we stopped so they could get ice cream. X and Y, completely separate of each other, got these frozen bananas with chocolate. I was crying I was laughing so hard watching them eating them. They also got these spray on tattoos. Y got this cartoon character and he kept saying to me “Have you seen my woodie?” before lifting his sleeve to show me his tattoo. Then Z was telling me a story and he turned around and accidentally, somehow, grabbed this woman’s tits. I choked on my wine.
It started raining so we went on this water ride and got utterly soaked. Then we went on this dinosaur ride. I was riding again with X. As we passed this scary dinosaur I yelled “Oh my god! A clitosaurus!” So then X yelled “A vaginasaurus!” at the next dinosaur. Y thought up the funniest one but I can’t remember what it was. He also said “Oh look, a wankosaurus, hiding behind a bush!” The ride was so fun that we stayed on it. As we were taking off again X yelled “Did you see the vaginasaurus?” to the people who were working the ride.
We decided to go on the Everest ride again. This time, I was riding with Z. We were at the end of the ride, where there’s a film of an outline of a yeti, which rips up this rail road track he’s standing on. This time, I noticed that the ripped up track looks like a penis. Then the yeti sits on it! I was like I can’t believe that!
So I told everyone but no one else had noticed. We went on the ride again, and X was with me. He saw the penis immediately after I pointed it out to him. Then I went again with Y. He was laughing his ass off. Then X and Y went to get more tattoos. Z and I went on the ride again, and Z yelled “I see the helmet!” when he saw the penis. And then a bunch of consultants in the front of the train held up their middle fingers when the camera took a picture of us going down the last hill. We got off the ride and the picture was flashed huge on this screen they had set up to show all the pictures taken.
We finally got back to the hotel and sat in the bar until around 2 or 3 am. By then I was so tired I was laughing at everything they did. I laughed so hard last night that my stomach still hurts. I got up at 8 this morning for a client interview. Yikes.
I wonder if our company will be invited back next year.
I spent most of my time with the European contingent of my company as the US consultants were kind of boring. The first night of the conference I stayed up almost all night talking about geeky architecture stuff, and only got 3 hours of sleep. I was exhausted after I finished my presentations so I was going to skip the evening’s entertainment to get some sleep.
But the euros talked me into going to this park at Disney called the wild kingdom. At first I didn’t want to go because I thought there might be snakes there. But really it was a roller coaster park with a tropical theme. Though the guys I was with would, without warning yelled “OH MY GOD! A SNAKE!” just to see me panic.
I’ll call the guys I was hanging out with W, X, Y, and Z. They are all senior management types (i.e. they don’t do any work hee hee). They proceeded to get drunk as soon as we got to the park and then they started behaving badly, but in the most fucking hilarious way.
First we went on this roller coaster called Everest. I was riding with X, and he grabbed my hand as we went through the part of the roller coaster where they take your picture. So I had a stupid look on my face in the picture and X was clinging to me like a scared little kid. I laughed my ass off.
Then we stopped so they could get ice cream. X and Y, completely separate of each other, got these frozen bananas with chocolate. I was crying I was laughing so hard watching them eating them. They also got these spray on tattoos. Y got this cartoon character and he kept saying to me “Have you seen my woodie?” before lifting his sleeve to show me his tattoo. Then Z was telling me a story and he turned around and accidentally, somehow, grabbed this woman’s tits. I choked on my wine.
It started raining so we went on this water ride and got utterly soaked. Then we went on this dinosaur ride. I was riding again with X. As we passed this scary dinosaur I yelled “Oh my god! A clitosaurus!” So then X yelled “A vaginasaurus!” at the next dinosaur. Y thought up the funniest one but I can’t remember what it was. He also said “Oh look, a wankosaurus, hiding behind a bush!” The ride was so fun that we stayed on it. As we were taking off again X yelled “Did you see the vaginasaurus?” to the people who were working the ride.
We decided to go on the Everest ride again. This time, I was riding with Z. We were at the end of the ride, where there’s a film of an outline of a yeti, which rips up this rail road track he’s standing on. This time, I noticed that the ripped up track looks like a penis. Then the yeti sits on it! I was like I can’t believe that!
So I told everyone but no one else had noticed. We went on the ride again, and X was with me. He saw the penis immediately after I pointed it out to him. Then I went again with Y. He was laughing his ass off. Then X and Y went to get more tattoos. Z and I went on the ride again, and Z yelled “I see the helmet!” when he saw the penis. And then a bunch of consultants in the front of the train held up their middle fingers when the camera took a picture of us going down the last hill. We got off the ride and the picture was flashed huge on this screen they had set up to show all the pictures taken.
We finally got back to the hotel and sat in the bar until around 2 or 3 am. By then I was so tired I was laughing at everything they did. I laughed so hard last night that my stomach still hurts. I got up at 8 this morning for a client interview. Yikes.
I wonder if our company will be invited back next year.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
my day with a fashion consultant
With the software conference looming in 4 days, and me with nothing to wear, I was really starting to panic. I tried to manipulate Camile, who does my hair, into shopping with me, but she had to work. She suggested I call Nordstrom's and arrange for a fashion consultation.
I went at 10 this morning and met Jessica, my consultant. She's about 21, is studying at modeling school, and wants to design her own clothes some day. At 5 feet tall and skinny as a rail, she was quite impressive storming around like the CEO of some company in her vertiginous heels. She was dressed in a perfectly fitted suit and this cute shirt. She definitely had style.
I explained my situation to her and told her that I have only ever worn Tahari suits. So we went over to the place where they had Tahari suits and Jessica started picking stuff out. "Do you like this?" she would ask. "Um, sure," I would say. I said that for everything she picked out and she started to get exasperated with me. Finally I was like "I don't care what the suit looks like really. I hired you to find one. I didn't realize I was going to have to pick it." I was getting very, very bored, and we had only been shopping for 15 minutes. It felt like hours.
So then I told her how I wanted something Audrey Hepburn-ish. She looked at me with my bedraggled hair (haven't washed it since I got it cut), my flip flops, and the rest of my disastrous outfit, and said "Audrey, hum".
We found 4 suits for me to try on, and then she asked if I knew my size. I thought I did so I told her I was an 8. I tried on the first suit and Jessica commented that I was supposed to unzip the skirt before putting it on, and that the suit was way too big. She asked what size my pants were and I told her they were a 6, and then brightly suggested that maybe my size was 6 instead of 8 and that sometimes I get my numbers confused. Jessica gave me a whithering look and said "NOTHING that you are wearing fits you. Those pants are WAY too big. It looks like you don't even have an ass." I mentioned that a lot of people say I don't have an ass and maybe that was the problem, not my pants, which I found quite comfortable. "Everyone has an ass" Jessica sighed, collecting up my four wrong sized suits.
"You wait right here and I'll be back" she commanded. Happy that my plan was working perfectly I pulled out my New Yorker and settled into my dressing room. I was hungry so I started eating some baby carrots I had brought with me.
"OH MY GOD, ARE YOU EATING IN HERE?" Jessica shrieked when she returned with the suits. She made me wipe my hands on a wet nap before I was allowed to touch the suits. I offered her a carrot and she wrinkled up her nose. "Slimy. Yuck." I decided to not take the insult to my carrots personally.
I tried on those 4 suits, and then 4 more, and then 4 more. I told her one was too twirrly, one had a weird belt that I couldn't figure out, one was a bright pink and black suit that Jessica swore Audrey would have worn, but I seriously doubt it. I was also having problems with my arms. The skirts all fit but in most of the long sleeved jackets if I so much as moved an arm Jessica would cringe as the fabric seemed ready to burst at the seams. Plus, my arms are about two inches longer than they should be, so wearing a size 4 jacket made my arms look ape like. And I kept having zipper problems because they connected the skirt to the jacket with this plastic thing and if I didn't put everything on just right I got all twisted up.
"I can't move in these things" I complained. "Why can't I just get a bigger suit and then I'll pin the skirt so it doesn't fall off?" That's what I usually do if I don't have time to get something tailored. "You are SO not going to do that" Jessica yelled. "Why do you need to move your arms so much anyway?" "Well, there might be an emergency where I have to move my arms a lot" I pointed out. Jessica rolled her eyes at me for the millionth time. "Then you could always take the jacket OFF."
Finally she found me a really cute linen and wool mix suit that had short sleeves so my arms didn't look weird. And it really does look kind of Audrey Hepburn-ish. Next stop was the shoe department, a place I used to love to go. But I'm not crazy about the current shoes, and Jessica was having a hard time finding something for me to wear.
"You really can't wear a sandal with those" she said, pointing at my feet. They're sunburned with a flip flop pattern because yesterday I took a conference call on my porch and when I'm in the sun for more than 5 minutes I burn. A few of my toe nails are white from painting my brother's house last weekend. And I have multiple blisters from my flip flops. I mentioned to Jessica that my sister had gotten me some pedicure stuff for watching her dogs, and that I just hadn't had time to use it. She gave me a doubtful look that anything might improve the look of my feet.
Jessica's boyfriend called around the time we had been through all the wedges. I told her there was no way I would wear a wedge. Before the wedges she had me try on some shoes with a 5 inch heel. I was like no way in hell, I will fall and break my ass on stage. Jessica and her boyfriend were in a fight so I told her to take the call. "Wait RIGHT here" she said "And DON'T buy ANYTHING until I come back and look at it".
As she was walking away I spied something interesting. It was a sandal, white, covered in lady bugs. The shoe was so horrible it was fantastic. I immediately wanted to try it on. So I asked for the shoe in my size and the shoe department lady looked at me doubtfully. "Jessica said to try those on?" she asked me. "Uh, yeah, I think those were the ones she said," I lied.
When they came I put them on. They were even more appalling on my feet. I did a little dance move in them because the monstrous lady bugs jiggled around whenever the shoe moved. I was standing in front of a mirror testing out different foot flex positions to see what would happen to the lady bugs when Jessica walked back and screamed "OH MY GOD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING???? TAKE THOSE OFF NOW!" The lady in the shoe department gave me a dirty look.
"But Jessica, these are my lady bug shoes with special lady bug robots on them. I'm going to infiltrate the conference and then take the whole thing over with my lady bug robot army." I smiled at her and she burst into tears. I felt bad so I took the shoes off and agreed to a pair of boring cream colored heels, even though I spied a pair of semi metallic heels that were amazing. "I saw on the show what not to wear that you can wear semi metallics in the day time" I told Jessica when she said I couldn't try those shoes on. She gave me a look and said "Well we aren't ON THAT SHOW ARE WE?"
It turns out while I was trying on the lady bug shoes Jessica broke up with her boyfriend and that's the real reason she started crying, not the lady bug shoes. She wanted me to follow her around to "accessorize" my suit but by then I was totally over shopping, and Jessica's mood had deteriorated to the point where it was obvious the perfect storm was just over the horizon. Instead I took her to starbucks and she told me what had happened regarding the break up. I told her the guy she was dating was a complete loser and that she was way too beautiful to put up with his behavior. I told her if he tried to get back together with her that she should kick him in the nuts. After a mocha whatever that thing was, and more pep talking, her mood improved.
We went back to the store and I was ready to buy my suit and shoes. The problem is, I had forgotten to ask how much the suit was. It cost $500. I had set a budget of $350. Surprisingly, they gave me the price I wanted. And luckily the shoes Jessica picked out were about a quarter of the cost of the semi metallic ones I wanted.
And now I have something to wear to my conference so I can cross that off my to do list.
I went at 10 this morning and met Jessica, my consultant. She's about 21, is studying at modeling school, and wants to design her own clothes some day. At 5 feet tall and skinny as a rail, she was quite impressive storming around like the CEO of some company in her vertiginous heels. She was dressed in a perfectly fitted suit and this cute shirt. She definitely had style.
I explained my situation to her and told her that I have only ever worn Tahari suits. So we went over to the place where they had Tahari suits and Jessica started picking stuff out. "Do you like this?" she would ask. "Um, sure," I would say. I said that for everything she picked out and she started to get exasperated with me. Finally I was like "I don't care what the suit looks like really. I hired you to find one. I didn't realize I was going to have to pick it." I was getting very, very bored, and we had only been shopping for 15 minutes. It felt like hours.
So then I told her how I wanted something Audrey Hepburn-ish. She looked at me with my bedraggled hair (haven't washed it since I got it cut), my flip flops, and the rest of my disastrous outfit, and said "Audrey, hum".
We found 4 suits for me to try on, and then she asked if I knew my size. I thought I did so I told her I was an 8. I tried on the first suit and Jessica commented that I was supposed to unzip the skirt before putting it on, and that the suit was way too big. She asked what size my pants were and I told her they were a 6, and then brightly suggested that maybe my size was 6 instead of 8 and that sometimes I get my numbers confused. Jessica gave me a whithering look and said "NOTHING that you are wearing fits you. Those pants are WAY too big. It looks like you don't even have an ass." I mentioned that a lot of people say I don't have an ass and maybe that was the problem, not my pants, which I found quite comfortable. "Everyone has an ass" Jessica sighed, collecting up my four wrong sized suits.
"You wait right here and I'll be back" she commanded. Happy that my plan was working perfectly I pulled out my New Yorker and settled into my dressing room. I was hungry so I started eating some baby carrots I had brought with me.
"OH MY GOD, ARE YOU EATING IN HERE?" Jessica shrieked when she returned with the suits. She made me wipe my hands on a wet nap before I was allowed to touch the suits. I offered her a carrot and she wrinkled up her nose. "Slimy. Yuck." I decided to not take the insult to my carrots personally.
I tried on those 4 suits, and then 4 more, and then 4 more. I told her one was too twirrly, one had a weird belt that I couldn't figure out, one was a bright pink and black suit that Jessica swore Audrey would have worn, but I seriously doubt it. I was also having problems with my arms. The skirts all fit but in most of the long sleeved jackets if I so much as moved an arm Jessica would cringe as the fabric seemed ready to burst at the seams. Plus, my arms are about two inches longer than they should be, so wearing a size 4 jacket made my arms look ape like. And I kept having zipper problems because they connected the skirt to the jacket with this plastic thing and if I didn't put everything on just right I got all twisted up.
"I can't move in these things" I complained. "Why can't I just get a bigger suit and then I'll pin the skirt so it doesn't fall off?" That's what I usually do if I don't have time to get something tailored. "You are SO not going to do that" Jessica yelled. "Why do you need to move your arms so much anyway?" "Well, there might be an emergency where I have to move my arms a lot" I pointed out. Jessica rolled her eyes at me for the millionth time. "Then you could always take the jacket OFF."
Finally she found me a really cute linen and wool mix suit that had short sleeves so my arms didn't look weird. And it really does look kind of Audrey Hepburn-ish. Next stop was the shoe department, a place I used to love to go. But I'm not crazy about the current shoes, and Jessica was having a hard time finding something for me to wear.
"You really can't wear a sandal with those" she said, pointing at my feet. They're sunburned with a flip flop pattern because yesterday I took a conference call on my porch and when I'm in the sun for more than 5 minutes I burn. A few of my toe nails are white from painting my brother's house last weekend. And I have multiple blisters from my flip flops. I mentioned to Jessica that my sister had gotten me some pedicure stuff for watching her dogs, and that I just hadn't had time to use it. She gave me a doubtful look that anything might improve the look of my feet.
Jessica's boyfriend called around the time we had been through all the wedges. I told her there was no way I would wear a wedge. Before the wedges she had me try on some shoes with a 5 inch heel. I was like no way in hell, I will fall and break my ass on stage. Jessica and her boyfriend were in a fight so I told her to take the call. "Wait RIGHT here" she said "And DON'T buy ANYTHING until I come back and look at it".
As she was walking away I spied something interesting. It was a sandal, white, covered in lady bugs. The shoe was so horrible it was fantastic. I immediately wanted to try it on. So I asked for the shoe in my size and the shoe department lady looked at me doubtfully. "Jessica said to try those on?" she asked me. "Uh, yeah, I think those were the ones she said," I lied.
When they came I put them on. They were even more appalling on my feet. I did a little dance move in them because the monstrous lady bugs jiggled around whenever the shoe moved. I was standing in front of a mirror testing out different foot flex positions to see what would happen to the lady bugs when Jessica walked back and screamed "OH MY GOD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING???? TAKE THOSE OFF NOW!" The lady in the shoe department gave me a dirty look.
"But Jessica, these are my lady bug shoes with special lady bug robots on them. I'm going to infiltrate the conference and then take the whole thing over with my lady bug robot army." I smiled at her and she burst into tears. I felt bad so I took the shoes off and agreed to a pair of boring cream colored heels, even though I spied a pair of semi metallic heels that were amazing. "I saw on the show what not to wear that you can wear semi metallics in the day time" I told Jessica when she said I couldn't try those shoes on. She gave me a look and said "Well we aren't ON THAT SHOW ARE WE?"
It turns out while I was trying on the lady bug shoes Jessica broke up with her boyfriend and that's the real reason she started crying, not the lady bug shoes. She wanted me to follow her around to "accessorize" my suit but by then I was totally over shopping, and Jessica's mood had deteriorated to the point where it was obvious the perfect storm was just over the horizon. Instead I took her to starbucks and she told me what had happened regarding the break up. I told her the guy she was dating was a complete loser and that she was way too beautiful to put up with his behavior. I told her if he tried to get back together with her that she should kick him in the nuts. After a mocha whatever that thing was, and more pep talking, her mood improved.
We went back to the store and I was ready to buy my suit and shoes. The problem is, I had forgotten to ask how much the suit was. It cost $500. I had set a budget of $350. Surprisingly, they gave me the price I wanted. And luckily the shoes Jessica picked out were about a quarter of the cost of the semi metallic ones I wanted.
And now I have something to wear to my conference so I can cross that off my to do list.
Friday, May 29, 2009
don't ask, don't tell, don't be ridiculous
My sister is mad at me right now because a long time ago I wrote a story about this kid Vic whom I considered my best friend in elementary school. He practically lived at our house. Anyway, a few days ago Vic was forced to leave the military because someone outed him for being gay: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8NZDRjEKwtQ
Apparently doing a search on Vic found the story on my blog. I've since fixed that. But I got in touch with another friend from elementary school, Steve, (actually, he was my sister's friend) and he's going to try to put me back in touch with Vic.
As for what happened to him, I think it's disgusting and unconscionable. Steve thinks that someone who didn't like Vic outed him. What's insane is that the military is kicking him out.
I really don't get the whole "gays in the military" controversy. First of all, it's the 21st century. Someone's sexual orientation should not even be an issue. Second, it's like discriminating against any other group (african american, jews, etc). Third, that argument about sex mattering is insane.
I work with the military a lot. I get hit on by my customers a lot. Yes it sucks and is uncomfortable, but I manage to do my job. And, just speculation on my part, these are likely the same guys who are worried about who their fellow soldiers are sleeping with. If you're going to discriminate against someone for reasons of sex, why not include everything: people who are married and having affairs, people who sleep with anyone, etc. The soldiers I've talked to who are most against gays in the military usually have personal problems that lead to their opinions. I remember arguing with a guy in the Army about this. He said "I don't want to worry that a fellow soldier is going to hit on me". I was like "That's pretty arrogant to think anyone would find you attractive enough to hit on".
I hope that the human capacity is such that people can learn to respect other people even if those other people are not like them. People who are prejudice against certain groups of individuals are at best ignorant and at worst small minded idiots. As for the religious right, apparently it's too hard for them, or maybe too boring, to love their fellow man. They would rather cause hatred and discrimination against groups of people. I guess it makes them feel somehow important, though to anyone with a brain they just come across as scary because they make a drama about something that isn't even their business. I don't worry about how my neighbors spend their money, and neither should anyone else. Sex is the same thing. It's an individual's right.
A friend of mine left the air force about 3 years ago because she was so stressed about being a lesbian. My friend Neil and I were talking to her and she said "You have no idea what it's like to go to a party or any social function and worry that someone will find out who your partner is". She got to the point where she wouldn't even grocery shop near her base because she was afraid someone might find out she was dating another woman based on the groceries she was buying.
Something has to change with that policy in the military. And the torture policy. I don't see how someone could arbitrarily judge a person based on who they are in love with, and at the same time think it's okay to beat a prisoner to the point of organ failure. But, maybe I'm not that smart.
Apparently doing a search on Vic found the story on my blog. I've since fixed that. But I got in touch with another friend from elementary school, Steve, (actually, he was my sister's friend) and he's going to try to put me back in touch with Vic.
As for what happened to him, I think it's disgusting and unconscionable. Steve thinks that someone who didn't like Vic outed him. What's insane is that the military is kicking him out.
I really don't get the whole "gays in the military" controversy. First of all, it's the 21st century. Someone's sexual orientation should not even be an issue. Second, it's like discriminating against any other group (african american, jews, etc). Third, that argument about sex mattering is insane.
I work with the military a lot. I get hit on by my customers a lot. Yes it sucks and is uncomfortable, but I manage to do my job. And, just speculation on my part, these are likely the same guys who are worried about who their fellow soldiers are sleeping with. If you're going to discriminate against someone for reasons of sex, why not include everything: people who are married and having affairs, people who sleep with anyone, etc. The soldiers I've talked to who are most against gays in the military usually have personal problems that lead to their opinions. I remember arguing with a guy in the Army about this. He said "I don't want to worry that a fellow soldier is going to hit on me". I was like "That's pretty arrogant to think anyone would find you attractive enough to hit on".
I hope that the human capacity is such that people can learn to respect other people even if those other people are not like them. People who are prejudice against certain groups of individuals are at best ignorant and at worst small minded idiots. As for the religious right, apparently it's too hard for them, or maybe too boring, to love their fellow man. They would rather cause hatred and discrimination against groups of people. I guess it makes them feel somehow important, though to anyone with a brain they just come across as scary because they make a drama about something that isn't even their business. I don't worry about how my neighbors spend their money, and neither should anyone else. Sex is the same thing. It's an individual's right.
A friend of mine left the air force about 3 years ago because she was so stressed about being a lesbian. My friend Neil and I were talking to her and she said "You have no idea what it's like to go to a party or any social function and worry that someone will find out who your partner is". She got to the point where she wouldn't even grocery shop near her base because she was afraid someone might find out she was dating another woman based on the groceries she was buying.
Something has to change with that policy in the military. And the torture policy. I don't see how someone could arbitrarily judge a person based on who they are in love with, and at the same time think it's okay to beat a prisoner to the point of organ failure. But, maybe I'm not that smart.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
hard to believe, I might be on TV
Yesterday I arrived back in Denver completely exhausted from my trip, and work, thinking about my court date that was supposed to be on 1 June that I was going to cancel because the fucking stupid shit for brains asspipe pathetic excuse for a human who hit my car (Kandy Schertz) couldn't be served with papers because she's a lying bitch who avoided the sheriff and then moved out of her apartment. The private investigator that tried to help me find her could only get me her parents' contact information.
I was thinking to just give up on the lawsuit. It seemed hopeless. Even if I could find the stupid bitch I wasn't sure I could get her into court in time for the year deadline I have to sue her (which will be September of this year). I was thinking to myself "unless something completely insane happens, I may just drop the lawsuit".
I got home, and of course, something insane happened. I received a letter about my lawsuit, which I assumed was from a law firm specializing in these kinds of cases. I called the number on the letter thinking I could wrangle some free advice from them.
The conversation went something like this:
me: Hey, I got a letter from you and was wondering if you could help with my lawsuit.
person: Of course, that's why we sent you the letter.
me: So, how much do you charge for legal advice? Because I think I only need to talk to a lawyer for about 15 minutes. It's an easy case but I can't find the defendant and am unsure how to proceed.
person: Uh, legal advice?
me: Yeah, um, aren't you guys a law firm or something?
person: Uh, no. This is a TV show. The People's Court.
me: This is a Denver show?
person: No. People's Court has been on TV for 24 years. It's on national TV. Haven't you ever seen it?
me: I don't have a TV. I thought I was calling a law office.
person: (stifled laugh) In all my years doing this, I've never heard that one before.
Anyway, I told the person who answered the phone my story, and she took all the information I had about Kandy and said the show would try to track her down. I don't know why they picked my law suit. Maybe the whole "Franki vs. Kandy" or maybe someone from the show reads my blog. They are supposed to call me back to let me know if they can find Kandy. See letter below:
So today I took the letter down to the court house to get an extension on my court date. Everyone thought it was cool that I might get to be on TV. Then I got a GREAT admin, Gloria, who patiently listened to my story. I told her I was worried I couldn't find Kandy before the year was up that I can sue under Colorado state law.
She arranged for me to meet with the small claims court judge. I gave a passionate speech about how it was wrong that Kandy should walk away with no punishment after causing an accident. I'm not sure what else I said. I was talking really fast. Anyway, the small claims court judge agreed to suspend my case indefinitely until I can track this bitch down. She also gave me a letter I could take to the post office to see if I can find Kandy's forwarding address. And she said I could serve Kandy with papers through the mail if that was the only option (if, for example, she's moved out of state). Normally you have to go to the court in person to set a date, but when I explained my travel situation to the judge she said I could just do it over the phone.
And she said I would be a good lawyer.
So, I'm back on the war path now. And I think I'm going to write an article about this whole experience and submit it to the paper or 5028.
I can't help but think, because I spent the weekend helping out my brother, that some good karma has come back to me.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
skip
On Sunday, after lunch, Neil and I headed up to the Bachenheimer compound for drinks, and ended up staying for dinner, because Dan put out a bunch of my favorite fruits and cheeses, and then we had lamb chops (little ones), asparagus, and corn. It was great.
Dan also decanted some excellent wines from his and Eva's trip to Sonoma. We sat outside since the evening was nice, and after two glasses of wine Eva was like "hey Franki, why don't you show Neil how you can skip?"
Skipping, or my inability to skip, is perhaps one of my greatest failings as a person. I don't know why, but I can't do it. I always mean to do it right but I can't seem to take just one foot off the ground so I end up just jumping around. Which is weird because when I ski and am supposed to have both feet on the ground, I can't.
Neil tried to teach me how to skip as Eva stood on the driveway having a giggle fit. Occasionally she would skip by me just to make me feel bad. Attached is a picture that Dan took of Neil skipping and then me skipping.
And no, I can't skip even when I'm not drinking.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
where are my pink ladies?
I've been to every grocery store in an over 50 mile radius of where I'm staying out here in DC trying to find pink ladies. None were to be had. So instead I bought some bags of baby carrots.
First, I found out they aren't really "babies" at all. This whole time I thought I was eating the veal of vegetables. But a student told me that in fact baby carrots are just carrots that are too ugly to sell, so they cut them down. I doubted the story at the outset (I've had students lie to me about numerous things regarding the performance of the software I teach; I've also had students sign me up for dating services and enter my business card in "free weekend in Aspen" giveaways and I was once subjected to my entire class singing the theme of the love boat because I've never seen the show and they were making fun of me saying I was like one of the characters who I think died recently of a cocaine overdose) but when I looked at the package it did say "baby cut" though "cut" was written in small print.
I also found it funny that, under ingredients, it said "carrots". Somehow, knowing they are not in fact new, young carrots, they don't taste as good.
Anyway, I accidentally ate a whole bag of baby carrots today. I could say it was one of the small bags, but I would be lying. Around 230, in the middle of class, after I stuffed the last carrot in my mouth, I got the hiccups. And they wouldn't stop. The guy who's class I was taking was getting annoyed. I still have the hiccups but I'm drinking wine in the hopes that will help. Besides getting the hiccups I also discovered that my company badge was covered with cookie goo. Probably should not have let my nephew wear it yesterday when we were eating cookies. I leaned over one of the students to help him and he was like "grossssssssss! what is that?????" and I was like "it's just (hic) a cookie (hic)".
Ech.
I wonder if I'm allergic to carrots...
First, I found out they aren't really "babies" at all. This whole time I thought I was eating the veal of vegetables. But a student told me that in fact baby carrots are just carrots that are too ugly to sell, so they cut them down. I doubted the story at the outset (I've had students lie to me about numerous things regarding the performance of the software I teach; I've also had students sign me up for dating services and enter my business card in "free weekend in Aspen" giveaways and I was once subjected to my entire class singing the theme of the love boat because I've never seen the show and they were making fun of me saying I was like one of the characters who I think died recently of a cocaine overdose) but when I looked at the package it did say "baby cut" though "cut" was written in small print.
I also found it funny that, under ingredients, it said "carrots". Somehow, knowing they are not in fact new, young carrots, they don't taste as good.
Anyway, I accidentally ate a whole bag of baby carrots today. I could say it was one of the small bags, but I would be lying. Around 230, in the middle of class, after I stuffed the last carrot in my mouth, I got the hiccups. And they wouldn't stop. The guy who's class I was taking was getting annoyed. I still have the hiccups but I'm drinking wine in the hopes that will help. Besides getting the hiccups I also discovered that my company badge was covered with cookie goo. Probably should not have let my nephew wear it yesterday when we were eating cookies. I leaned over one of the students to help him and he was like "grossssssssss! what is that?????" and I was like "it's just (hic) a cookie (hic)".
Ech.
I wonder if I'm allergic to carrots...
Monday, May 25, 2009
Neil's Reveal (the blow job secret)
I went to lunch with my friend Neilski yesterday in historic Leesburg. We went to this cool restaurant called lightfoot's that used to be a bank.
While we were eating lunch Neil was telling me about this crazy woman he worked with. He said she wasn't very attractive or nice, but she got Neil's friend to marry her. Then, after they got married, she was always hitting on other men and trying to get them to have sex with her. She would do this in front of her husband.
The guy gang that Neil hung out with all thought this woman was crap, but, Neil's friend Howie ended up going on a trip with her (she invented a reason she had to go with him). Somehow they ended up in Howie's hotel and the woman was trying to get him to fuck her. Howie refused to fuck her, since she was a good friend's wife (and, probably because she wasn't very attractive) but then Neil told me "Howie finally let her give him a blow job so she would leave his room".
I thought it was funny that Howie said that he didn't have sex with this woman, but that he let her give him a blow job. I can think of two guys who have used this excuse with me, and then, well, there's Bill Clinton.
I started to wonder why that might be...I guess if a guy isn't looking at you or making any physical contact with you it's okay in his mind to come in your mouth. From a female perspective that seems a little strange. If I had a penis I don't think I would go around sticking it into places with sharp objects. Guys aren't that smart or maybe they're just careless. Personally, I wouldn't let some guy anywhere near my clit under circumstances like that.
Then I started thinking if a guy ever asks me for a blow job, I'm going to question his motives. Does he want a blow job just to get off, or does he like me? Then I started thinking about how, if I don't want to have sex, I always find it easier to give a guy a blow job than to have him poking at me demanding I pay attention to his penis.
In any case, girls out there reading, beware of giving guys a blow job. Thanks for ruining that for guys, Neil!
While we were eating lunch Neil was telling me about this crazy woman he worked with. He said she wasn't very attractive or nice, but she got Neil's friend to marry her. Then, after they got married, she was always hitting on other men and trying to get them to have sex with her. She would do this in front of her husband.
The guy gang that Neil hung out with all thought this woman was crap, but, Neil's friend Howie ended up going on a trip with her (she invented a reason she had to go with him). Somehow they ended up in Howie's hotel and the woman was trying to get him to fuck her. Howie refused to fuck her, since she was a good friend's wife (and, probably because she wasn't very attractive) but then Neil told me "Howie finally let her give him a blow job so she would leave his room".
I thought it was funny that Howie said that he didn't have sex with this woman, but that he let her give him a blow job. I can think of two guys who have used this excuse with me, and then, well, there's Bill Clinton.
I started to wonder why that might be...I guess if a guy isn't looking at you or making any physical contact with you it's okay in his mind to come in your mouth. From a female perspective that seems a little strange. If I had a penis I don't think I would go around sticking it into places with sharp objects. Guys aren't that smart or maybe they're just careless. Personally, I wouldn't let some guy anywhere near my clit under circumstances like that.
Then I started thinking if a guy ever asks me for a blow job, I'm going to question his motives. Does he want a blow job just to get off, or does he like me? Then I started thinking about how, if I don't want to have sex, I always find it easier to give a guy a blow job than to have him poking at me demanding I pay attention to his penis.
In any case, girls out there reading, beware of giving guys a blow job. Thanks for ruining that for guys, Neil!
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