I had dinner and drinks with a new friend last night. Usually, when I hang out with someone for the first time (granted, this wasn’t the first time, but it was the first time without other company) I usually am sort of quiet until I feel the person out (I said OUT, not UP) but she is a talkative one and I was relieved as hell. But she showed me a new hole-in-the-wall bar near where I live that had ONE DOLLAR BOTTLES OF YEUNGLING. Why did I not know about this before? My cheap beer radar must be on the fritz again. Damn thing.
We got invited to a party by a very strange older guy named Dennis who made us play some sort of word association game so that he could remember our names and he actually called himself Dennis the Menace…He was impressed with my ability to come up with “Crystal Blue Persuasion” on the spot. Considering that my name hasn’t changed…you know…ever…and I tend to come in contact with a lot of old men who like to sing that song, it really is the first thing that pops into my head. (I know, how sad.)
Anyway, it was a good night. Cheap beer. Good company. Skid Row on the jukebox. What more does a girl need?
The weird dreams are continuing. Each one, more disturbing than the last. Each one, leaving me with an unshakable feeling of dread. I don’t usually remember my dreams quite as vividly as I have been lately either which leads me to believe that something is terribly wrong. I may sound a little paranoid here, but if there is one thing I have learned, it is to trust my gut. No need for you to worry though, I haven’t completely spazzed yet. I won’t start the daily phone calls just checking to see if you are all alive. But if these dreams continue, the phone checks might start sooner than later.
So I woke up this morning with a haunting image in my head and a message from Pepe LePew on my voicemail (will someone please explain to me why he has stopped dropping by unannounced but has started calling at 7am? Any takers? No?). Great way to start a Friday. But I know one thing, it may have started out crappy, but at least I will end it right. Beer in hand, smiling, and surrounded by friends. And if I have to stay up for the rest of my life to avoid the terror of my subconscious, I fucking will.
Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: "Proofs" - Mates of State
Showing posts with label Pepe Le Pew. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pepe Le Pew. Show all posts
2.17.2006
1.06.2006
LePew
Okay…so I learned…well…am currently learning, that sinus medicine + wine = bad.
No worries. I have to stay home tonight anyway. There is a bet riding on it. And since Pepe LePew has not called…or stopped by unannounced (which is his specialty), I don’t even have to make any sort of excuses. (Because the fact that I feel like complete shit doesn’t seem to be good enough for ANYONE.)
I guess I owe an explanation of the PLP reference. Remember that cartoon with the skunk…who thinks that female cat is a skunk too? But she isn’t. And she doesn’t like him. So he tried getting her drunk all the time so she would change her mind? Oh…wait…that isn’t what happened in the cartoon…At any rate…if you remember that, then you can form your own little mental picture of MY PLP.
He thinks that when I tell him that I am not interested…that it means, “I am totally interested!” and when I say, “There is only one person that I want”, he thinks that I am saying, “You are the only one that I want!”
Nice guy. No sense. So, when he stopped by last night at 6:30 and I was already in pajamas, he took what I said (which was, “I don’t want to go to dinner.”) to mean, “I really want to go to dinner with you, why don’t you stand here for ANOTHER 15 minutes and ask me repeatedly?”
I am pretty positive that all of this is my fault. On New Year’s Eve, despite a long conversation with him about how I am not interested and after the Captain/Jagermeister shot sessions, I may have been a little more friendly with him than I normally would have been. (Don’t be a perv…not THAT friendly.) And if I could remember any specifics at ALL about that evening, I might actually feel obligated to have the conversation again. Although. I don’t. And…I don’t. I think that sobriety speaks louder than…New Year’s Eve.
At least I hope that’s the case. On more than ONE count. So if you were there, I don’t know who that bitch was who was walking around, pretending to be me, and in my favorite tube top no less! If you see that chick again, seriously, kick her ASS.
No worries. I have to stay home tonight anyway. There is a bet riding on it. And since Pepe LePew has not called…or stopped by unannounced (which is his specialty), I don’t even have to make any sort of excuses. (Because the fact that I feel like complete shit doesn’t seem to be good enough for ANYONE.)
I guess I owe an explanation of the PLP reference. Remember that cartoon with the skunk…who thinks that female cat is a skunk too? But she isn’t. And she doesn’t like him. So he tried getting her drunk all the time so she would change her mind? Oh…wait…that isn’t what happened in the cartoon…At any rate…if you remember that, then you can form your own little mental picture of MY PLP.
He thinks that when I tell him that I am not interested…that it means, “I am totally interested!” and when I say, “There is only one person that I want”, he thinks that I am saying, “You are the only one that I want!”
Nice guy. No sense. So, when he stopped by last night at 6:30 and I was already in pajamas, he took what I said (which was, “I don’t want to go to dinner.”) to mean, “I really want to go to dinner with you, why don’t you stand here for ANOTHER 15 minutes and ask me repeatedly?”
I am pretty positive that all of this is my fault. On New Year’s Eve, despite a long conversation with him about how I am not interested and after the Captain/Jagermeister shot sessions, I may have been a little more friendly with him than I normally would have been. (Don’t be a perv…not THAT friendly.) And if I could remember any specifics at ALL about that evening, I might actually feel obligated to have the conversation again. Although. I don’t. And…I don’t. I think that sobriety speaks louder than…New Year’s Eve.
At least I hope that’s the case. On more than ONE count. So if you were there, I don’t know who that bitch was who was walking around, pretending to be me, and in my favorite tube top no less! If you see that chick again, seriously, kick her ASS.
1.05.2006
Nobody puts Baby in the corner...
The vicious rumor has been confirmed. Patrick Swayze is experimenting with rap music. This frightens me. I am still haunted by “She’s Like the Wind”…(as a matter of fact, the mere mention of his name and the shit is stuck in my head for a decade. And not only that…but I can see, in my head, the scene from “Dirty Dancing” in which it is played.) Damn.
Today and yesterday at work have been insane. The phones are ringing constantly and the foot-high stack of paper in my inbox seems to stay the same size no matter how quickly I work. I am taking a break. Otherwise, someone could get hurt.
I have my fifth visit with my physical terrorist today. The physical terrorist who thinks I am a contortionist. The physical therapist whose presence in my life has made very little difference, if any at all on the amount of pain I am in. And the only good thing about it is that it is at the end of the day and when I am done, I can go home, wrap myself in my blankets and sleep.
At least it is Thursday. And I have big plans for the weekend. And by big, I mean miniscule.
1. Clean my apartment.
2. Watch hour after hour of “21 Jump Street”.
3. Go to American Eagle to exchange pants (or just SEW the buttons on…ick).
4. Go to Old Navy to exchange pants (and find something a little more work friendly…thanks, Mom, but I am not so much sixteen anymore).
5. Go to Best Buy and spend more gift certificates (Thanks, Ricky and Uncle Wog!)
6. Go to Sephora and spend my gift certificate…and I am sure I will go over because that store is heaven on earth. (Thank you, Brandy, you are the best…call a sista, I can never get you!!!)
7. Go to the library.
8. Try and avoid “Pepe LePew” (more on him later…maybe…)
9. Sleep for insane amounts of time.
10. Drink massive amounts of coffee.
That’s my plan. Doesn’t it sound blissful? Man…I can’t wait.
Can someone tell me why my Launch keeps playing some sort of acoustic latino music? (And not the good kind, mind you…the very soft, very boring kind.) It is a mystery to me. But, I can’t complain. Ever since I got these speakers, I have been released from the clutches (why can I not type the word ‘clutches’?) of The Eagles and am on to bigger and better things. Oh, Elvis Costello…
I will be fine as long as they don’t start playing any Rappin’ Swayze.
Today and yesterday at work have been insane. The phones are ringing constantly and the foot-high stack of paper in my inbox seems to stay the same size no matter how quickly I work. I am taking a break. Otherwise, someone could get hurt.
I have my fifth visit with my physical terrorist today. The physical terrorist who thinks I am a contortionist. The physical therapist whose presence in my life has made very little difference, if any at all on the amount of pain I am in. And the only good thing about it is that it is at the end of the day and when I am done, I can go home, wrap myself in my blankets and sleep.
At least it is Thursday. And I have big plans for the weekend. And by big, I mean miniscule.
1. Clean my apartment.
2. Watch hour after hour of “21 Jump Street”.
3. Go to American Eagle to exchange pants (or just SEW the buttons on…ick).
4. Go to Old Navy to exchange pants (and find something a little more work friendly…thanks, Mom, but I am not so much sixteen anymore).
5. Go to Best Buy and spend more gift certificates (Thanks, Ricky and Uncle Wog!)
6. Go to Sephora and spend my gift certificate…and I am sure I will go over because that store is heaven on earth. (Thank you, Brandy, you are the best…call a sista, I can never get you!!!)
7. Go to the library.
8. Try and avoid “Pepe LePew” (more on him later…maybe…)
9. Sleep for insane amounts of time.
10. Drink massive amounts of coffee.
That’s my plan. Doesn’t it sound blissful? Man…I can’t wait.
Can someone tell me why my Launch keeps playing some sort of acoustic latino music? (And not the good kind, mind you…the very soft, very boring kind.) It is a mystery to me. But, I can’t complain. Ever since I got these speakers, I have been released from the clutches (why can I not type the word ‘clutches’?) of The Eagles and am on to bigger and better things. Oh, Elvis Costello…
I will be fine as long as they don’t start playing any Rappin’ Swayze.
11.30.2005
Feelin' Groovy...
There hasn’t been too much going on in the last few days worth blogging about. But I will try and give you the rundown.
1. I ganked a TV over the weekend. (Not so much ganked as “found” and “took”.)
2. The “finding” and “taking” said TV was fueled by boatloads of Pinot Grigio and someone whose name may or may not be Bobby (Update: I have named him Pepe LePew).
3. I “helped” decorate a Christmas tree and it made me think of how sad it makes my mom that we aren’t all living there to do that anymore.
4. I called in sick from work yesterday because I woke up in the middle of the night with severe pain in my back and accidentally took one too many muscle relaxers and couldn’t wake up. Oops.
5. I went to the doctor and found out I have to have physical therapy and got pain meds (queue angels singing).
6. I remembered my obsession for Magnum P.I. and am seriously considering buying the box set for myself for my birthday. (That or 21 Jumpstreet…or the second season of Nip/Tuck…thanks Ricky, for getting me so incredibly hooked.)
7. I have heard that, “my hump, my hump, my hump” song about 653 times today and am about to smash my radio…Luckily, I have taken said pain medication (queue angels singing) and don’t really have enough energy to lift my arms to do so.
8. I learned that when people at work ask you to “help” them do something, they really are saying, “No, really. You do it. I don’t want to.”
9. I put together an 800 piece metal shelf for my bathroom last night and it only took me 6.5 hours.
10. I have not had ANY leftover turkey. At all.
Really, that’s about all there has been. And in the hazy state that I am in today, I am surprised that I can remember any of these things to tell you. Did I mention that I love pain meds? (Queue angels singing.)
1. I ganked a TV over the weekend. (Not so much ganked as “found” and “took”.)
2. The “finding” and “taking” said TV was fueled by boatloads of Pinot Grigio and someone whose name may or may not be Bobby (Update: I have named him Pepe LePew).
3. I “helped” decorate a Christmas tree and it made me think of how sad it makes my mom that we aren’t all living there to do that anymore.
4. I called in sick from work yesterday because I woke up in the middle of the night with severe pain in my back and accidentally took one too many muscle relaxers and couldn’t wake up. Oops.
5. I went to the doctor and found out I have to have physical therapy and got pain meds (queue angels singing).
6. I remembered my obsession for Magnum P.I. and am seriously considering buying the box set for myself for my birthday. (That or 21 Jumpstreet…or the second season of Nip/Tuck…thanks Ricky, for getting me so incredibly hooked.)
7. I have heard that, “my hump, my hump, my hump” song about 653 times today and am about to smash my radio…Luckily, I have taken said pain medication (queue angels singing) and don’t really have enough energy to lift my arms to do so.
8. I learned that when people at work ask you to “help” them do something, they really are saying, “No, really. You do it. I don’t want to.”
9. I put together an 800 piece metal shelf for my bathroom last night and it only took me 6.5 hours.
10. I have not had ANY leftover turkey. At all.
Really, that’s about all there has been. And in the hazy state that I am in today, I am surprised that I can remember any of these things to tell you. Did I mention that I love pain meds? (Queue angels singing.)
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