racing ride

Last night I spent the evening with Best Friend and her man having a good time in Sunset Park. We chatted, drank, cooked, listened to music and watched a movie (which I could not make it through because I have pumpkin syndrome- I can't stay out late and start to fall asleep at 11). Right about the time I could no longer keep my eyes open the DVD began skipping so I saw it as a sign that I should go home. Best Friend is always kind and calls a car for me when my eyes are red slits and I can't talk. After a brief awkward period of bare feet in cold hallways the car service arrived and I was happily on my way.

I don't like to fall asleep in car service cars because it makes me a little nervous. Sure I can fall asleep on the subway and not give two shits when I wake up at Coney Island but a "car service" just doesn't offer the same luxury. The drivers often have no idea where I live and it ends up being a " Choose Your Own Adventure" on the streets of south Brooklyn. I usually try not to give too many "turn here... OH OH OH you should have gone left" because that is really annoying and means I have to pay attention. I also had a driver tell me "shut the fuck up I know what I am doing" once so that sort of put a damper on my direction giving. Now I just let them do their thing, get confused, run me around and I zone out. I never pay more than 12$ for the ride no matter which way they go.

A medium sized SUV was the car of choice this evening and I climbed into the back seat and shouted out my destination. The driver repeated it and we were off. I like it when the driver just leaves me alone or even better is on his cell phone headset talking to the air about his girlfriend or shouting in another language. Anything that means I don't have to talk because if I am in a car it means I am too drunk and tired to take the subway.

Suddenly we stop short.

"Oh my, did you theee that! learn how to drive misther!"

The driver yelled out the window. I couldn't tell if he had a lisp, an accent or was gay. He pressed the gas hard and I was thrown to the back of my seat. He began to stare at me in his rear view mirror .

"You know people juth don't know how to drive, I mean they are idioth. I have several carth bigger than this and my mom always sayth..." that's where I stopped paying attention and decided he was gay. Talking about your mom with strangers- unless she is sick, in town or famous, to me is kind of gay (I talk about my mom all the time and she is none of those things- see gay gay gay). Coupled with a funny voiced lisp made it complete for me. Lisps on their own can't be a determining factor as there are plenty of straight men that need speech therapy too.

Unfortunately he continued on about driving and life with his mother. It all sounded like leaky tires and gravel to me then I began to wonder if he was hitting on me? Was he? Was he cute? Should I pay attention? Damn I was drunk.

Suddenly I was hit with a question of "Don't you think?"

I was caught off gaurd. I had no idea what he was talking about anymore because of my interior monologue and trying to decide if I thought a car service driver was actually cute. I did my usual car speak of "hmmmmm yeah, right on". Then continued the contemplation. I tried my best to catch a full on glimpse of his face. He didn't seem cute. I think he was about 35. The car was nice and he made sure to tell me about those bigger cars several times. Maybe he was all right- I'd done worse... right? I couldn't remember.

He was still staring at me in the rear view and this time more intensely. I began to squirm. I didn't know what the hell was going on or where the hell I was in brooklyn for that matter. I decided after an awkward 45 seconds and deep contemplation that I had to talk to this guy now. I decided to slur out my two cents on driving.

"I have a hard enough time with people walking on the street, let alone inside metal objects that can kill you- I could never do your job." yeah yeah, a compliment that will shut him up.

Silence and stink eye.

He didn't get it. He just kept staring at me, more than the road. I was nervous. I thought I had made a fatal mistake and I was about to get my ass kicked... or fucked - I still was not sure and I really wasn't interested in either.

Sudden laughter errupted from the driver "Yeah yeah yeah..." - wait was he on a blue tooth and I didn't realize it. I opened my half shut eyes wider to get a better look. No, he was talking to me, unfortunately. He then thought he was free to go off on a tangent- this is where it all went wrong.

"You know who really can't drive- the Chinese. I can't stand their asses. They park for like 20 minutes in the middle of the road. The Chinese are taking over! They were outside my mom's place and I had to park their chinese asses..." Wait- was I transported back to 1942? Is my Irish Nanna driving me around?

"Not like the Spanish are any better with their music blasting and..."

Yup 1942 and Nanna.

The guy wasn't gay. His racial tirade cleared up his lisp and he had a thick brooklyn accent. He was starring at me in the back seat to see if I was of any recognizable nationality (other than white) before he could spew his venom on me, not his sperm. I was really uncomfortable. I also was beginning to realize that my tolerance for alcohol was lower than I thought. I hate when people go on evil tirades and expect you to chime in. This has happened to me before but usually I can walk away or say something about how horrible the person is being THEN walk away. The key - I could walk away. This time I was stuck in a car with a racist Brooklyn mama's boy I thought was gay and trying to pick me up. All I could do was say "mmmm".

When it finally was over I began to laugh a little, then bite my lip, then laugh some more. I was THAT desperate for a second to think a poc marked car driver with thinning hair and bug eyes was 1. hitting on me 2. could be cute and 3. I was considering HITTING on HIM. Man I was out of my mind. I laughed out loud at myself again, this time not containing it- just looking like a crazy person. I love laughing at myself like that- especially in front of people when I look like I belong in a padded cell.

He looked back and gave me a "you're fucking weird" look, did a giant U-turn and wouldn't you know it I was at my apartment. I gave him a 3$ tip out of fear and he looked intensely into my eyes as he handed back my change and said in a low voice "Thank you thir".

Seems like my Irish Nana was there- there to wake my drunken half Irish ass up and say "You asshole, this guy is ugly- what the heck is wrong with you!". Oh Nana, always watching out for me in the man department with guilt, shame or a smack on the head because as she liked to say "the gays are a good people".

I take love where I can get it

The other day I received an email from best friend informing me that a new animal had entered her life. My first thought was "oh god this poor woman will never breathe normally again". See, best friend works in an office (a very cool and fun office- for me , not for her) that contains two cats. I say "contain" because no one really likes them very much and EVERYONE is allergic to them. The reason they are there? The boss man likes it that way, even if he is out of that office six to nine months of the year and never sees them.

The cats are those long haired fur ball bitch cats. They show you their ass all the time (complete with clumped hair in the anus- no matter how many times they are cleaned), they whine for attention then run away when you offer it and worst of all they shed like nobodies business. While at first they were cute little kittens that everyone played with and loved despite the sneezing, watering eyes and inability to breathe the fun wore off when they began to play on the fax machine and piss all over the halls.

The idea that a new animal would be introduced to this environment was not something I thought Best Friend would be jumping for joy over until she told me that it was not her animal to care for (thank god) but a new visitor from a fellow employee. Then she sent me this:
Everyone now with the collective "awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww"

but what I really loved was this next picture that describes the situation with the animals so perfectly I need not say more:
OK I do want to say more - Look at that damn adorable dog! Then there is one of those crazy ass whacked long haired cats that shows its clumped anus all the time with its piss matted fur looking sad. OK so its kind of sad but seriously, the cat is crazy and it makes everyone have an allergic reaction on a daily basis. It's OK folks, in spite of her deathly allergy Best Friend pets and loves these cats everyday- even worries about them. Partially because its her job and partially because even though something is causing her utter misery she still loves it. hmmmmmmm

Anyway I was more than thrilled to see this adorable dog. I could not wait to meet him. I can't explain it- the uglier the dog, the cuter he (or she) is to me. I love pugs, Boston terriers, French bull dogs... ok thats pretty much it. I think they are just the best dogs, so friendly and playful, not too big but not so small. You can still have dignity walking those guys around without looking like big old mo. They are still scary enough to keep small children with dirty hands from shoving their mitts in its face until you say "Its ok! He's friendly". If only I felt that way about guys...

I got to meet Mr. Moo (Moo is his name) yesterday. It was raining, I felt like shit, I was down, I could hardly breath through my nose, I was wearing dirty underwear because I needed to do laundry and oh so much more. When Best Friend greeted me at the office door with moo in her arms I lit up. I forgot he would be there! I am always nervous around new things and this was no exception, if I were a dog myself I would probably pee all the time when entering a room. Thank god thats not the case- although see me if I make it to 80.

I tentatively played while everyone worked away and finished up for the day. I then put him on my lap and he sat there for a while and I pet his fur, squeezed his little rolls and didn't pay attention to what people were saying. Eventually moo turned his face to me and licked me. I was grossed out of course but remembered that this was the dog way of saying "hey you are all right".

I noticed that moo really liked my pant hem and boot so I started to tease him a little and get him riled up. He made cute noises and did the head thrashing thing dogs do. I twirled around in my office chair getting him all dizzy then stopped suddenly and watched him freak out. He was so happy- maybe a little too happy.

Next thing I know my leg was mounted and I was getting humped. I know there are a lot of people who have had this experience- right? I thought it was funny at first and removed my leg from the situation. He was in hot pursuit. I shouted to best friend for help and all she could do was laugh and say "OH MY GOD MOO IS GAY MOO IS GAY!!!".

Yeah thanks for the help.

Apparently I am the only person he has ever mounted and humped repeatedly. What an honor.

I let the little guy go for a minute figuring he was just a puppy and didn't know better. It was not really a fun feeling knowing I was essentially this dogs "pocket pussy" for the moment but whatever I masturbate too- just not on peoples legs (ok not on peoples legs in public). I then pulled out an old tennis shoe thinking maybe it was my smell that he was into. He played a minute and then went right back to the leg. The good thing was there was really no contact against my leg; it was more "air humping". The second the lower half came into contact I was like "Ok ok the funs over sorry buddy I can fell your goods on my leg and thats no good" and had to pull away. I distracted him away from my leg with some butt plug looking toy. He seemed sad but still happy to play. He kept going for slight air pumps on the leg but nothing as major as the first few attempts. After about 10 minutes his owner came with the leash to take him home and he lost interest in my leg. Men.

This of course started my whole "IIIII want a Doooooog" speech. The good old "It's just what I need. I have the space for one his size, I have the love to give, I could use the company and I live right next to the park". The usual counter argument from Best Friend whenever I get this fanciful idea "If you had a dog, you would not be here right now... besides you are allergic to most dogs"-- touche. My mom's argument for this "Ugh ick you want them rubbing their asses all over your house!" Um mom- people do that too... but she has a point. My argument "I'll never want to leave to visit my family or go on vacations, its a 10 year commitment at LEAST". So it always puts a damper on the idea.

Last night I was dreaming about having a dog. It was awesome. Well ok truth be told I had a boyfriend and a dog in the dream (the only thing missing was a house with a pool). Maybe I can't have those things in real life but in my dreams they are the best pets ever and I don't have to worry about cleaning up after them (the dog and the boyfriend). Hooray for vivid dreams.

ps- I still want a dog.

Sinking

You ever get the feeling like no matter how hard you try you are sinking and nothing you do will get you out of the hole? That everyone thinks you are an idiot? That you have lost your path, yet again? yeah its kind of like that right now...

Foodnetwork, you broke my heart

It was 11:30 pm on Friday night. I had just spent the evening with Best Friend on an unexpected bar hop and was starving. I decided that it was ok to indulge in my secret guilty "I have no cash at the moment" pleasure and order pizza online- yes from Dominos. Yes, I eat Domino's pizza and damn it when you are drunk, haven't eaten dinner, don't feel like cooking and you live alone so no one can witness the carnage, it's allowed. I placed my order and left the tracker up so I could see when I could expect my processed pizza to arrive at my apartment. Next I saddled up to the TV in my favorite chair and blasted on the radiation tube for my usual late night surfing.

Channel 18- TBS... freaking bridget jones AGAIN
Channel 15- Fox- Seinfeld and I just can't take that it is on all the f'n time
Channel 21- CW 11 Stupid in the City
Channel 78- Foodnetwork...static ( I try again)
Channel 78- Foodnetwork again... blank screen

I turn the tv off then on

Channel 78- Foodnetwork... absolutely nothing

I unplug the cable from the back of my tv and plug it back in again

Channel 78- Foodnetwork... still gone

I stare at the blank screen in disappointment. My eyes begin to get misty. I let out a giant sigh of "Nooooooooooooooooooooo!". I was devastated. No "Ace of Cakes" , no "Iron Chef", no crappy "Throwdown", no "Foodnetwork in the Kitchen" Saturday mornings, not even freaking Mark Summers with his stupid ass "Unwrapped"! Just a blank screen where I can see myself reflected in the black tube with a dumbfounded look. It's gone. My favorite channel, my late night friend, my cooking instructor, my weekend morning companion, my confidant- essentially my boyfriend- up and left in the middle of the night with no explanation.

Typical.

I stared, hoping it was a figment of my drunk imagination.

30 minutes passed in silence and I was startled by my buzzer- the pizza came. I proceeded to eat the entire box of buffalo kickers and a large mushroom pizza with misty eyes lamenting my loss... in 20 minutes. See what happens when TV is not pacing me!

The thing is- I don't have real cable and I live alone. Deadly combo- television and a person who likes to be visually stimulated. I have what I call "apartment cable". This essentially means I moved into my apartment, there was a cable on the ground, and I thought "What would happen if I just plugged this little cable into the antenna input" and tah dah- clear reception on select channels. This also means that I am subject to cable whims. There was one point when I thought all was well with my TV relationship. I had figured out which channel was Bravo and I also managed to get The Cartoon Network. I thought I had tricked the system and this would last forever. I was wrong.

Channels started to dissapear. First went HGTV. I found it odd as it had been there since the beginning with the Foodnetwork. No love lost though as I was tired of watching House Hunters (with ever stale Suzan Wong). Candace Olsen's dorky Canadian antics on "Divine Design" with Chico were annoying the crap out of me and if I had to watch one more stupid prospective buyer talk about how the colors in the house were a problem I was going to shoot my TV. I thought good ridden to bad rubbish because I learned all I can learn from that channel.

A few weeks later I turned on my man and switched to the Cartoon Network. Blank. It too was gone. I was just getting into shows like "Foster's home for Imaginary Friends" and "My Gym Partner's a Monkey". I liked knowing what my niece and nephew would watch... sober... after school... if they were 6. I knew I would be ok as long as the Foodnetwork and Bravo were still around.

A week after the Project Runway finale, Bravo went missing.

Finally the cord was cut- the Foodnetwork was gone.

It's odd to be so attached to television and in particular a network dedicated to food. I find food shows soothing and comforting in ways that sit-coms or movies aren't. I feel like I am learning something pratical while being kept in a vegetative state. The foodnetwork taught me about deglazing pans, braising meats, reposing steaks, how to properly prepare an artichoke, making rues, making stocks, why fish and cheese don't go together and so much more. It brought out the cook inside me and made me feel confident in the kitchen the way no one else could. I began to cook circles around my family members and soon was getting the approval of best friend with her "restaurant quality" seal of approval on dishes I had made. No one taught me more about loving food than this channel, no one.

To see it gone, even as I write this, chokes me up.

The channel has come back intermittently and given me a glimmer of hope that maybe this will work out. Maybe if I just paid a little bit more attention to the channel, loved the new chefs I hated, tried more of their recipes, turned it on more, something- it would stay with me. No, it just kept telling me " you can't afford me no matter how much you love me". Now I am left with a bad habit of surfing from 62 (former Bravo) 67 (former Cartoon) 78(former foodnetwork) only to find blank screens or scrambled pictures that turn into blank screens.

Yesterday TBS was shut off.

Television? I HAVE no television.

I don't write about that

I try no to write about my dating life very often as there are plenty of anecdotes one can hear about dating on a regular basis. Simply turn on your television past 11p, and you will see any number of single gal on the town typing single life witticisms on a laptop or single men acting quarkie with women on dates. It becomes a little depressing when you only get "apartment cable " and are left with a total of five stations (It also makes me question the demographic of tv watchers avoiding the news at 11pm). Go to any number of bars or cafes and just listen to other people- chances are you will eventually hear a sex/ dating story told much too loud for public ears but there it is.

It could also be that dating is the one topic I refuse to talk to my mom about in my life. It drives her crazy. I get worried that if she finds this blog and starts reading it she will think we can talk about it together over cocktails. While I love my mom, I just don't feel the need to talk about all my one night stands, hook ups, or month long relationships with her. None of it is significant enough to bother her with or have her get invested in. It will also make me look like a big old whore.

I once made the mistake of mentioning the fact that I had a sex life at Christmas during the post dinner drinks drunken boyfriend interrogation;

"So any new guys?"
"No"
(sip)
(sip)
" What about the lawyer, you seen him?"
"Ma, we are friends"
"Right, right right... what about that other guy"
(sip)
"There is no guy"
(sip)
"The one from last year?"
"No Mom"
(sip)
"Really? I thought you were-"
"Nope, no one"
"I mean its just you are so-"
"Mom- I get LAID if thats what you want to know!"
-Silence-
-Silence-
(gulp)
"So are you using safes*?"
"I need another drink"

*Safes= condoms

It's just not the conversation you want to have with your mom as an adult.

My point is that the market is saturated with dating stories and I don't know if I feel comfortable sharing dating stories (unless I am in a bar getting drunk shouting about how I was dumped again to my friends). However, I also think its a part of life, like picking your nose. I once told my niece who loves to pick her nose that it was OK she did it, just don't let anyone SEE you do it. Now when she is in a crowded room and wants to dig for gold she goes to the corner, gives us her back and picks away.

I am going to the corner now and talking about dating... to myself... while I pick my nose. Some things are better left unsaid. Granted- I wrote a whole post here before and decided to erase it after much thought and advisement so I was not fully above it at first. I decided I am really not into writing about dating- it gets messy, people know who you are talking about- and hell its kind of intimate and involves someone besides yourself. Why drag them through the blog mud unwillingly. It really doesn't make anyone like you more, in fact I think its a turn off to know you may be written about on some ass wipes blog if you go on a date. I have decided to leave that topic to the stupid asses who do it best with their lap tops in Starbucks and expensive shoes.