Author: grigiogirl

The last few days have been like Xmas. I’ve had the privilege of hanging out with a ton of my favorite people, met great new people, booked and rebooked a trip to Amsterdam and Paris, learned new phrases, found $20 that I lost several months ago, hit but didn’t really hit a car, discovered some amazing new artists, and made a really delicious guacamole.

 

They say good things come in threes and that was definitely true for me this week. Sleepless and I have spent the past three days together, working and what not. Yesterday, we met at our favorite Italian eatery, which is way more than just a ‘C’ in a box, and were talking business with one of the owners. He was telling us about his high school days and how, because he became very tan in the sun, a lot of people thought he was black. He had always admired black people, especially those with great athletic ability. So, he decided to do his best to be like them and started playing football. Within no time at all, he was a pro. “I was like a Benetton ad – good at what I did.” Unfortunately, his coach wasn’t too keen on him because, in addition to throwing the ball around, Benetton enjoyed throwing ‘f bombs’ around. His coach instructed him, “F bombs are unacceptable. If you think you need to say it, say ‘frozen soup’ instead.” Frozen soup that!

 

Scot-tea and Venn met up with us for a short time and, to Scot-tea’s disappointment, there was no white rose tea or cute little teapot to comfort him. Word up. We started reminiscing about the last few nights we’ve shared together and higher education again made the discussion. None of the boys have PhDs, however, Venn and Scot-tea have a JD. We’re not yet sure of the true meaning behind that. Jacked or Junior Dick, perhaps. Being an advocate of higher education, I encouraged all of them to start working on a PhD.

 

OregganO stopped by last night and stated she fully agrees with me on this concept; she stands firm on several matters and this is one of them. After sharing stories with her about Sleepless, The Scotts and others, I updated her on some of the ongoings at my office. Yesterday, my boss called an emergency meeting to inform us she was being replaced. One of my favorite coworkers, Calendar Boy, tried to change the mood of the meeting with this comment, “On a happy note, I had a positive observation in the restroom today.” This is exactly why he is one of my favorite coworkers – because the stuff that comes out of his month is completely frozen souped up. He didn’t share his observation, but  I’m guessing he found out someone else in the office has a PhD.

Like a slug, it took me a bit of time to get to work today. The fact that I ran into the back of a car going nowhere probably didn’t help. Truth is out. I am the reason I cannot have nice things.

Luckily, Sleepless saved me from my day and invited me to join her and The Scotts for drinks. The Scotts are a band of brothers who were supposed to join us last night, however, did not.

Scot-tea was a good time –  for sure. A while back he was given a company phone. He was at home, watching the Haiti Relief special, and was compelled to donate $10 because a child appeared to have lost her legs in the earthquake. Later, he realized he made the donation on his company phone. He immediately contacted the fiscal office at his agency and, within no time, was written up for misappropriating company funds for Haitian relief. That’ll teach him.

Eventually, Venn met up with us. Venn was set on telling us about set/venn diagrams. I had pulled out my notebook and he asked if I was taking minutes. I replied, “Why do you need minutes when you can have seconds.” Nothing. He gave me no response. Not even a Venn diagram. Sleepless and Scot-tea had been drinking pear cider, however, Scot-tea wasn’t “really feeling it.” He saw the waitress walk by with another table’s order and decided to order tea – white rose tea. I was chatting with Sleepless about something raunchy and Scot-tea was pouring tea into his cup while listening to our convo. Out of the blue, again, while pouring tea, he looked at us and said, “Justified. Word Up.” We replied with “Holla!” and then told him we found it funny that he was word uppin’ with tea. His response, “White Rose, Bitch.” Nice.

After gorging ourselves with shots and deep fried desserts, we made our way to pick up Tree. Venn stated he wanted to join us, however, preferred to take his own vehicle. He asked for my mobile number and Sleepless and I decided he really hadn’t earned it. I gave him the area code and told him he might get the suffix later.

On the way to pick up Tree, Sleepless and I were cozied up in the back. A blue and red light kept flashing in the back seat. After a few weird perimeter checks, we realized it was the paddle ball toy in the car. Sleepless had been very concerned that it might be lights and sirens. Luckily, Scot-tea was driving, so we were in good hands. With or without lights and siren.

Met up with Tree and then made our way to the karaoke bar.  Scot-Tea opted to bail after a bad mixed drink. Tree, Venn, Sleepless and I opted to stay until we were on the mic: Wanna be by Spice Girls. A total tearjerker. Although we gave it our best, no one was really interested. So, we wrapped it up with, “We won’t be here next week,” and “Justified. Holla. Word up!” The karaoke manager shouted back, “Whatever, you’ll be here again next week.” True dat.

Sleepless invited me to join her Tuesday night group at a little Italian lounge. I have a feeling my Italian lessons had something to do with this invitation. Which is fine with me, ho sete.

I got the privilege of meeting Tile, BeauD, FrothOff and Message. The Scotts, unfortunately, could not come. Very sad – for them.

We started talking about dating and Tile seemed to have all of us topped, literally. Several months ago, she got a bid for tile work. Turns out, the tile guy lays more than tile. To this day, he is constantly checking her grout. Prior to that, she had some roofing done. Nice guy; just has a preference for being on top. Then there were the brothers and the cousins, none of which were from the same family reunion. Phew. During the discussions, Tile received a text from Grout. He was just checking in with her but couldn’t come by tonight due to Shingles (girlfriend). Aha. Tile sent him a text back asking if he would be stopping by in the morning. Unfortunately, the text didn’t go to Grout. Tile accidentally sent it to the wrong guy. Tomorrow morning should be interesting for her. BeauD, concerned for Tile’s welfare, had some words of advice for her, “Watch out for structural steel erectors and, don’t forget, the good guys lay pipe.” The only thing missing from this conversation was Dionne Warwick playing in the background.

I told them about a recent barbecue I attended at The Leaver’s house and how QuQueen (formerly known as Karaoke Queen) outted my heterosexuality. With the exception of QuQueen’s mother, I was the only “straight” girl in the mix. QuQueen continued with questions: “Why don’t you date girls? Have you ever dated girls? Why do you like guys?” And, for her mother, “Mom, you’ve been with a women, haven’t you?” Nothing says BBQ like steak, corn, Double Stuf Oreos and a couple of hard pressing questions about your sexuality. One of the other girls piped up and asked me, “Let me guess, you want a guy with a PhD, right?” “No, not really. I don’t get too caught up in credentials,” I responsibly replied. “You know what I mean,” she said, “You want a guy with a Pretty huge Dick.” Sleepless quite liked this story and we spent the rest of the evening asking the men in the bar if they had a PhD – BeauD and FrothOff included.

I was working as “greeter” at a local furniture/carpet store today when a coworker approached me and asked why the exterior door was ajar. I didn’t know why and so I told him just that. He said he had a feeling it was because of the geriatric carpet department. Apparently most of the employees in the carpet department are older and the women freeze while the men are always hot. The compromise is having the door open. I thought “The Geriatric Carpet Department” was a bit too harsh and suggested we refer to them as “The Shady Shag”.

A few minutes later, a Shady Shag walked through the no longer ajar door. He was a man in his late forties/early fifties, nicely dressed, about 4’9″, wearing a horrible hairpiece – aka, Shady Shag. His wife was probably in her early forties, nicely dressed, about 5’3″ – 5’5″ with heels, with long, Crystal Gayle hair. Being a fan of the combover, I tried to figure out a way this dynamic duo could help each other out; more specifically, how she could use her long hair to help him with his Shady Shag. My idea: they could walk much closer together and she could do an extended combover, with her hair covering his head. Then, in addition to being the dynamic duo, they could have a dynamic do.

Later, I was sharing my stories with some coworkers. I asked Dandini (a master escapologist who always manages to magically disappear when we need help in the office) what came to mind when he heard the phrase ‘Shady Shag’. “Sketchy sex. Some kind of sexual activity that just wasn’t on the up and up. Pun intended.” Dandini could work for www.dating.about.com. According to their website, ‘When speaking of relationships, a shag isn’t a hairstyle, it is a gender-neutral reference to having sex.’ Unfortunately, ‘shady’ wasn’t in their glossary.

We’ve had a lot of rain lately. So much, OregganO and I ended up going to a matinee the other day instead of hiking. Prior to our matinee experience, we met That’s Not Chinese at the library. That’s Not Chinese was excited to retrieve her hold item, an item I had returned the day prior, When You Are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris. Excellent read. I was excited to pick up my hold, a play script written by The Talent Family. The most exciting part of our library visit was OregganO getting a library card – the membership numbers are growing by leaps and bounds between Alice, That’s Not Chinese and OregganO.. While OreggaO was getting her card, I went downstairs to use the making room room. This was a ‘first’ for me at the library and it kind of felt like I was consummating our relationship. As I went to exit the making room room, the door shut quickly behind me and my flip flop got stuck under the door, acting as a door/people stop. I was stuck. I probably looked a lot like That’s Not Chinese the day she was flailing in the mud (http://grigiogirl.com/2010/05/duck-saver/). A lot of trying to move, yet going nowhere. Luckily, That’s Not Chinese was there to help me out of that sticky situation. Like so many others after consummation, the door wanted to hold me – so sweet.

 

With the weather continuing to be a bit drab, OregganO and I thought it might be nice to sit on the stoop and enjoy a little coffee with some Irish cream. Being that I hadn’t been to the grocery store for a while, I didn’t have any coffee. We were just about to walk to a local gas station for a cup of joe when Alice rang. She and Hot Mustard would be home soon and Hot Mustard graciously offered to brew a pot for us – he loves dessert coffee!

 

I grabbed the play book (just in case they were in the mood to role play) and the Irish cream and we made our way. Alice pulled out some standard coffee cups for us and Hot Mustard felt we deserved an “upgrade”, so he pulled out some “sparkly specials”. While on the stoop we were chatting about various items of interest, to include interior decorating preferences. A couple of our neighbors are strong believers of their religion and have been spending a lot of time remodeling. Alice remarked, “Their big portrait is going to be of Jesus. And they are making him a lot more handsome these days. Maybe she’ll get her rocks off on it.” I suggested Alice watch Hamlet 2 if she hasn’t already.

 

Hot Mustard topped off our coffee and informed us he often buys coffee at a 7/11 by his house and, by the time he hits the mouth of the canyon, stops at another 7/11 for a hot cup. The cashier never charges him, usually because Hot Mustard has a line ready, “Just got this cup at another 7/11 and it is cold.” We told him he has a good gig going and he replied, “What can I say? I like my coffee how I like my mustard, hot.”

OregganO and I were at her house chatting and enjoying what $2 can still buy when Alice called and invited us to join her for dinner.

We arrived just as the appetizers were being served and as I began to dish up some tabbooleh Alice informed me, “That’s the kind of garnish I’ll fight you over.” She then said, “Don’t think  we  only invited you because we wanted to be in your blog tonight.” OregganO piped in, “I’m not gonna lie, I saw Skiwi’s picture on facebook and, like him, I wanted to be in your blog, so I called you.” As the evening progressed, I was told, more than once, “That is not going in the blog.” I didn’t at all feel my time with them had any direct ties to my blog. Why would I?

When you hang out with people long enough, certain topics or nouns don’t need to be discussed at length, rather, a simple nod, comment or wink suggests, “Oh. yeah, we know all about this,” or “Oh my God, look at her butt, it is so big.” Midway through dinner, and after one of those moments, Alice  gave me a nod and a wink. I told her I couldn’t wink; cannot physically do it. Poison Sumac was pleased to hear this because she also cannot wink and believes it is due to “an anti-palsy mechanism.”

The word mechanism was and still is  a great segway to discussing waxing. We discussed whether or not one should, in general, and if done, how much. Does it have to be an all or nothing kind of deal? Poison Sumac felt “a little lady garden is OK” and Alice said she once ” did an accidental Brazilian.” I informed them I had also done an accidental Brazilian. I was in France, he was from Brazil. I thought he was French. It was an accident. It was around this time we started to wrap up the meal. I had a little bit of shawarma left and the waiter asked me if I’d like little box. I politely replied, “No thank you, I’ve got one.” OregganO quipped, “We’ve all got one, just depends if you want to take your dinner home in it.”

After dinner we ended up on my stoop, drinking wine and shouting out to passersby. We started with our standard, “holla”, and quickly moved on to Italian, “Hoha hola” (http://grigiogirl.com/2010/04/hoha-hola/). My neighbor joined us for a bit and we talked about the sheer enjoyment one can have on the stoop, watching and shouting out to others. I told her, “You can’t believe the stuff you can see from here. People think my stoop view is obstructed by trees and the like. No way, I can see stuff. Some of these neighbors do some weird shit!” I could see the wheels in her head spinning, so I followed with, “I’ve never seen you do anything. I actually can’t really see you or what goes on at your house.” She immediately looked toward her house and knew that wasn’t true. It was at this time I really wished I could have winked. Instead, I just contorted my face in Alice’s direction and, without saying a word, she knew exactly what I was thinking.

Last week I worked out, once. I weighed myself this week and it appears I lost one pound. This working out thing is really working out for me. So, I worked out again yesterday. Not wanting to jinx my weight loss luck, I stopped doing the cardio at the same time I did last week, immediately after burning 50 calories.

A little bit later, I attended a class to prepare me for my new job as Beer Cart Girl. Once again, I learned working out pays off. Not only does it help burn the “empty” calories in alcohol, bodies with more muscle can tolerate more alcohol than bodies with lots of fat. In addition, regular drinking increases your tolerance and is like exercise for your liver. Two workouts, one day. Nice.

Tree stopped by after my class and we reminisced about our evening with That’s Not Chinese. Being that I recently converted That’s Not Chinese to the public library, a lot of our discussion was about the benefits of belonging to the elite library group. Tree and I were comparing our music collection and it became apparent we shared the same taste. That’s Not Chinese couldn’t take our bonding moment much longer and told us, “Would you just sleep together and get it over with? God, I remember when we talked about sleeping together.” Tree reminded her they never actually discussed doing this, rather, she suggested it and he said no. That’s Not Chinese kvetched, “But I’m pretty.” Prettiness always “straightens” things out.

Tree and I were in the mood to play, so we headed to one of the local clubs for karaoke. Upon arriving I met several of his friends. One of my favorite friends was Nice Pants Wanna Rub ‘Em. To be honest, I’ve never been so compelled to want to rub someone’s pants – the sheen on them was unbelievable. As we were waiting our turn to take the mic, a Chinese Asian approached center stage. His English was a bit broken as he introduced himself and then he pulled a Susan Boyle. His voice was amazing. I decided I couldn’t really follow him with my current song selection, Loving, Touching, Squeezing by Journey, so I changed it to something a little more simple, Hold On by Wilson Phillips.

Not wanting the night to end, Tree and I accepted Nice Pants Wanna Rub ‘Em’s invitation to join him and his friends for a meal at a 24-hour diner. Nice Pants Wanna Rub ‘Em asked if we had any meal recommendations. I suggested Moons Over My Hammy. He had eaten that a few years back and wasn’t sure he wanted it again. When the waitress came to take our order he brushed his hand across the pictures on the menu and said, “Do you have any recommendations based on these pictures?” She advised him there was a really good picture on the back and she was right, the Western Burger looked and tasted divine.

Last day of Italian class: today. What we have learned from class: men who shave will end up in a book written by That’s Not Italian.

Prior to heading to class, Sleepless stopped by. Sleepless is a bombshell, not to be confused with Bombshell McGee. She didn’t have time for wine, because she needed to meet up with “Joe” for some personal training.

Sleepless, like so many others, was excited I was completing the Italian class and assumed, rightly so, that I could complete a full sentence in Italian. Not so. I gave her some details about the class and then shared the story with her about Alice living abroad and meeting an Italian. Neither of them spoke the same verbal language, yet, they were bilingual. Amazing how that works. I told Sleepless that Alice left her amore and traveled around, returning to him weeks later. I asked Alice, “How was this possible, during a time of no cell phones, internet or pigeons?” She informed me they reunited at Piazza d’Spagna (the Square). Sleepless told me we needed a square. I agreed.

Alice made her way to my house for a cup of “coffee” before class. Being it was the last night, we decided vino was a must. Her caffe, basso grasso. Mine, cioccolato blanco. Upon arriving we were told we had an esame (test). I told Alice, “I didn’t sign up for this, let’s go.” We decided to stay and give it our best. As we were talking about the Italian culture, in English, Overachiever mentioned a movie to That’s Not Italian and told her, “It was crazy, I had to learn swear words.” It was at this point that Alice pulled out her word document titled, “Vaffanculo”, and we slyly passed it to Quattro Espressos and Bombshell McGee. They were pleased and we almost got busted for passing notes in class.

As class progressed, That’s Not Italian decided we were going to read, aloud, “Piccola conversazione sul clima.” As the conversation was coming to an end, she instructed Not a Good Drunk Chef to “save a sentence or two for these girls, they’re bored.” We weren’t bored, we were spent. We’d tried and tried to follow the class and the more we tried, the more it felt like we were Jim and Pam from The Office and That’s Not Italian was Michael Scott. When we were discussing our “caffe” with That’s Not Italian she informed us our translation was wrong because some of the words we were using were Spanish. We informed her we were trilingual, in that, we mix Spanish, English and Italian. Alice also mentioned we had thought she would be impressed with our short fat (basso grasso) translation. Apparently not.

After class, Alice and I decided to celebrate at a local restaurant. On the way, she told me she wanted to run errands the other day, thus, asked Hot Mustard if he would like to join her. He stated he would if she would drive. She responded, “Well, what’s the point of you going then?” Very Italian of Alice.

At the ristorante, I informed our cameriere (waiter), that we had just completed our Italian class and would be ordering in Spanish. Alice followed with, “Or Japanese, I get mixed up.” We opted to share an Italian bottle of wine and rosemary flatbread with goat cheese and sundried tomatoes. Alice asked if I wanted to eat the garnish (parsley). I told her she could have it and she replied, in broken English, “I’ve never had a friend that I’ve had a fight with over garnish.” Although this didn’t make me feel unico, it still made me feel speciale. Cin Cin!

BeCuz phoned me this morning (morning for me today was around 10) with a desire to eat lunch. I was really glad for this because 1) I was hungry and b) I was exhausted from the 90 minutes of work I had experienced. We went to an Italian restaurant because she wanted a Muffaletto. I informed her it was a Muffaletta and she replied, “Muffaletto, muffaletta, what’s the difference?” Being “schooled” in Italian I informed her there was a big difference  – she could end up with a lot of muff as opposed to the sandwich she really wanted. We placed our order and, sadly, they did not have cannoli as a dessert option. So, while paying at the register, BeCuz decided to buy a Ritter Sport chocolate. The Ritter Joghurt was the first to catch her eye, and resulted in her choosing the marzipan because, as she so eloquently stated, “Joghurt? Damn straight jogging hurts and just for that I’m having the marzipan.”

 

Later I met up with Fru Fru Pants for our daily specialty beverage. We decided to go for a bit of a ride and, as luck would have it, an “exclamation icon” lit up on my dash. We headed straight to the dealership for consultation. Upon arriving we were advised I had a screw in my tire and it was not repairable. Fru Fru Pants looked at me and said, “Isn’t that always the way it goes? You want the screw and your tire gets it instead.” It appears my message to the universe was not distinct enough, next time I’ll be sure to be more clear.

 

Fru Fru Pants and I retired to her house for wine, dinner and eyebrow coloring. I reminded her of the time I colored my eyebrows in an attempt to match my hair color (which was a red of sorts) and they turned out bozo the clown red. This wouldn’t be a big deal if I was a SIDS clown, but I was not. I was a girl in a relationship. I told Fru Fru Pants, if there was ever a time in that relationship that I would understand cheating, that would be the time. I wouldn’t hit that bozo shit.

Met up with That’s Not Chinese today for slurpees and tree planting. After tackling her tree, not to be confused with Tree – who she tried to tackle, we decided we deserved a nice meal.

We chose to frequent a local fresh fish market. The term “fresh fish” is used loosely when you live inland. To get the party started, I ordered oysters on the half shell, That’s Not Chinese is not a fan of oysters and informed me she almost threw up in her mouth. After that, we ordered the same thing. Our waiter, Ward, was quickly dubbed “Mental Ward”. He was a bit off. It didn’t seem to matter what we ordered, we wouldn’t get it as ordered. Unless, someone else in the restaurant ordered the same thing, at which point he would advise us he was “reminded” that we wanted bay shrimp on our salad or more cheese on our crab stuffed mushrooms.

Tree, to be referred to as Smitten Kitten today, met up with us for after dinner drinks and couldn’t wait to tell us about his new beau, Sho Shy. Smitten Kitten is clearly smitten and wanted to share their story with That’s Not Chinese and I. He started at the beginning, with how they met. He stated they met at a club and That’s Not Chinese immediately had questions.

Where is the club? Do they play techno? Have I ever been there? She was really hung up on the address. Smitten Kitten informed her, “The address is not relevent. I don’t know who took our money, don’t know the coordinates, and does it really help you to know what music is playing? The story is long, covers two weeks, and I’ve only gotten to part about where we met.”

After that, Smitten Kitten couldn’t remember where he was in the story, but I thought Sho Shy sounded really nice. It was about this time when That’s Not Chinese had, yet, another question, “Do you not have heat?” This really seemed like more of a statement and is clearly her way of letting me know she is cold. I turned up the heat and gave her a blanket.

Within five minutes, Smitten Kitten and I were wiping our brows – it had warmed up quick. That’s Not Chinese was sitting comfortably with her feet outside of the blanket and the blanket in between her legs. It looked like she was wearing a diaper. Smitten Kitten was perplexed, “You can jam out with your clam out or rock out with the cock out. But what can you do with a diaper?” I suggested, “Run the wiper if you’re wearing a diaper.”