My own, personal Cliff Clavin

Josh was in a rare state. Not drunk at all, just slap happy, blissfully nibbling on a creme brulee and sipping a soda. Which perhaps explains this particular tirade:

"Yes, that's what I'm going to do! Think about it - Nair is way to harsh for men's... you know... so I've got to somehow invent a product that would take care of that. And then, what would be even better is if there is some sort of device that would lower you down and dip you in a big vat of it! Yeah, then it would lift you out and hose you off and poof - all body hair gone!"

David and I looked at each other, amused and fascinated. It was this line, though, that caused us to burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it all:

"And I'll call it something cool and scientific - like folicide!!!"

Oh, the stories that result from good friends sidled up to a familiar bar on a random, cold Sunday evening. Now I know how Sam Malone felt.

Quote of the Day

"I wish I could drink like a lady, I'll have one or two at the most. Three and I'm under the table, four and I'm under the host."

- said by Dorothy Parker, quoted in my new favorite book, Red, White, and Drunk All Over, by Natalie MacLean

Saturday plans

"What are you doing today?" my mom asked me at 9:30 this morning.

"Nothing, I'm doing absolutely nothing. This week has been crazy, and I'm looking forward to a day of doing absolutely nothing.

I mean, I need to memorize my lines for The Vagina Monologues, cause we have a run thru tomorrow. Plus, my apartment is a wreck, so I need to clean up. Pilates is at 12:30, and it's been forever since I've gone, so that would be good. Ooh, my dry cleaning is ready to be picked up. I still need to find a red dress to wear to the FireBall in two weeks. A bunch of us had talked about going to see a movie. I haven't written my column for Richmond.com yet this month. I should probably go to the grocery store. And at some point I've got to sit down and go through all of the new focuses that we got at our sales meeting yesterday.

But other than that, it's just going to be a lazy Saturday. Thank goodness."

Bluff, called

Don't you hate it when a love affair ends, albeit rather smoothly, but of course there are promises of "Well, I'd still like to be friends, etc." and stupid things like "I definitely want to hear all about how that thing you're doing this weekend works out, blah, blah, blah", not really meaning any of it, of course, but then the next week you get an email from said former-lover wondering when you can get together, just as friends of course, so that they can talk your ear off about the previous weekend's events?

Yeah, me too.

Hypothetical Question of the Week

Would you rather sleep with someone who:

A: Did not move at all, but who moaned loudly and talked dirty?

or

B: Was completely mute in every way, but thrashed around madly and had some great moves?

To the Moon

6 months ago...

"Congratulations! You finally got your dream job! We are so excited for you. Here's Jack..."

"Ok, Rees. Tonight we're celabrating. Now think about it. Where is the only place to go when you get your dream job?"

"Um, Avalon?"

"Rees! That's where you go when you land that summer internship. Come on, where do you go when you get your dream job?"

"Um... Sticky Rice?"

"Rees! No. That's where you go when you get your first job out of college with vacation and health insurance. Where do you go when you get your dream job?"

"I give up."

"Paper Moon, of course!!"

I laughed out loud. It was just like my crazy/awesome friends to insist on celebrating my huge news at a strip club. So to Paper Moon we went, and ended up having a blast, of course.

A few months later...

Her application process was grueling. Resumes, interviews, gossip flying. Some people on the search committee were huge advocates of hers, some thought she was too young. We were all encouraging patience and promising that someday soon we would be celebrating for her the same way we celebrated for me. So when Jessica found out this week that the months-long application and interview process was finally over and that she had been offered her dream job as General Manager of one of the best theatres in town, there was only one thing to do.

"To the Moon!" Text messages and voice mails were flying through space, everyone beside themselves with excitement for Jessica and for the night ahead.

Plans were made. Dinner at my house first (venison roast, mac 'n cheese, chocolate bread pudding, and lots of wine), then the caravan headed down for an evening of expensive drinks, tossing singles, lap dances and pretending to be ballers... or something.

And that's how it is with Rees' friends. Ridiculously supportive, with a hint of ironic craziness. It's just how we roll.

Everyone say hi to Christina!

"Hi, Christina!"

Thanks, guys. Now go over and say hi to her new blog. And remember to check back regularly. She's a good friend of mine from college, and one of the funniest prose writers I've ever read.

Thanks for finally starting a blog, Christina! We're all looking forward to reading more.

*Ok, for some stupid reason I can't get the link to work. Grrrr.... Anyway, her blog address is susssays.blogspot.com. Check it out.

He has this theory...

We were, once again, talking about Food Network and our favorite shows.

"What's your stance on Rachael Ray?" he asked, flipping through my Food and Wine.

"Well, here's my thing. Not all of her recipes are that good, but I think you can learn a lot watching her show, like shortcuts, techniques, substitutions... however, the daytime talk show is definitely a bit much."

"Yeah, I like her in small doses."

"Exactly. Now, Barefoot Contessa I love!"

"Oh, dude, she is the best!"

"Totally."

"But have you ever noticed the way she interacts with the men on her show?" he asked, with a glint in his eye.

"You mean, besides her gay husband?"

"Yeah, she's very flirty and always touching them. I have a feeling she's a dirty girl. Really looking for a good lay."

"What?! You think Ina Garten is horny and dirty?"

"Oh yeah," he nods.

"Humph. I've never thought of it. But you can't really blame her after being married to a gay guy for thirty years."

"Nope, definitely not. But I'm telling you, watch her next time. Dirty."

I'm not sure if he's completely crazy, or whether I think it's kinda hot that he has a theory about the Barefoot Contessa's sex drive. I finally settle on a little bit of both, which only makes me like him more.

Maybe next time

Ring, ring.

"Hello?"

"Rees, it's Lynn. Are you coming into the office today?"

"Um, yeah. I'll be in later to make photocopies of the tasting notes for tonight at the Wine Cellar."

"Good. We've got something here for you!"

"What is it?"

"It's a surprise!"

Curiosity peaked, I walked in two hours later. Sitting near my mailbox was a huge bouquet of flowers. HUGE. My heart started racing as I reached for the card.

"Best wishes for a great 2007. Love, Mom and Mom's Husband"

My heart briefly sank before perking up again. How sweet of them! I'm so lucky to have such great parents. That was really nice of them to randomly send flowers to my office.

"So???" Everyone in the lobby asked. "Who are they from?"

"Aw, they're from my mom and her husband! Isn't that sweet of them?"

"Oh yes!" chorused all around.

Later on as I carried them out to my car, my boss held the door open for me.

"We were hoping they were from a guy."

"Me too," I muttered as I walked towards my car, one certain guy in mind...

Good intentions, bad timing

"So then, (heh, heh) he said to me, (heh, heh) if you end up making that huge sale, I'll shave your butt for you!"

This sentence finally ended what was one of the worst, most boring stories I had ever heard, complete with the taking out of a Blackberry so that I could literally be shown the entire email conversation that the story had been about.

I made eye contact across the table with the one girlfriend there who seemed to understand how badly I wanted out of that conversation. I had been being monopolized all night by this stranger, and all I really wanted to do was hang out with my friends. Unfortunately, it was too small of a group for me to just get up and walk away without looking like a total bitch.

It's not entirely his fault. A mutual friend of ours whose intentions are always good but sometimes severely misguided, had chosen this evening to set us up, unbeknownst beforehand to me. My week had been less than stellar with my new romance seemingly coming to an end, and despite my friend's notion that I should just throw myself into the game of finding another, I just wasn't in the mood.

I mean, no matter how short the previous love affair, or how nice (albeit, boring) the new person may be, I think that a girl is entitled to at least a weekend of downtime before being expected to start all over again, right?

New favorite lyric

"Dance for me sweetheart while I strum my guitar. You sure look pretty tonight."

-Marc Broussard, The Wanderer

Clean your apartment, clean your life

Ok, so maybe it's not as powerful a force as saving a cheerleader, but there is definitely something wholey cleansing about the out-with-the-old concept. And I've been embracing it lately, at least with apartment clutter.

The black Steve Madden sneakers that I've worn forever? Replaced with spanking new Sketchers.

Old bedding? Replaced.

All new panties were purchased yesterday and today and about 20 pair were tossed into the garbage.

Furniture in kitchen has been rearranged so that my new wine fridge now has a home.

Desk was de-junked.

Now I just have to figure out which aspects of my personal life need to be kicked to the curb and swiftly execute...