declarations of love for whiskypants
Yes, my dears, it is true. A man told me that he loved me today. Not once, but twice.
Sadly, I don't believe it was my electrifying wit, sassy green eyes, my admirable worldview or my ample bosom that let to these outpourings of deepest adoration. No. It was for my research skills. My research skills are quite formidable, mind you... but come on.
You see, he divulged he was quite thirsty for a few pints of Belhaven. He seemed quite desperate for a draught (not a bottle), describing the stuff as manna from heaven... In fact, he said that Belhaven is "god's way of telling us he loves us". I thought this was rather odd as I always thought that sex was His way of telling us He loves us.
Well, upon learning this drink is akin to le petit mort, I googled it and learned that it was Scottish. You won't believe this, my loves, but a Scottish bar opened about a mile from my apartment just a few months ago. The last time I visited it they gave me a card and, by golly, it has a web address. The Flying Scotsman has a growing reputation.
After teasing him with this tantalizing information for about an hour, and after verifying that they did indeed have Belhaven on draft, Bunny dearest declared his love for me. I don't think he minded that I laughed. But, what is he going to do for me? I'm not sure my research skills will be adequately compensated with his proffered shiny quarter. Perhaps we will find out later this week. We just can't go on Tuesdays as I wish to avoid the older British gent that has taken a shine to me...
what not to read
So I was at the airport last Thursday night, on the way home for the family reunion, and picked up what looked to be a very promising book: Mr. Darcy Takes a Wife. The premise seemed pretty darn intriguing - a follow-up to Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice.
I've always loved Jane Austen's books, and P&P is just the pinnacle of her work. The BBC version of the novel is just about the best thing ever made. Just about any chick out there who's seen it will sigh aloud with the thought of Colin Firth's Mr. Darcy.
Well, the sequel is simply awful. In addition to being based, rather obviously, on the miniseries as opposed to the book, it is bawdy, melodramatic, and ridiculous. Of course, I read it through to the end. According to the author, Darcy is very well-endowed. [Sigh.] But seriously, don't waste your money on the book. Try The Twentieth Wife by Indu Sundaresan instead.
breakin' the law!
A Federal appeals court has upheld Alabama's new law against marital aids, arguing that the Constitution does not protect an individual's right to sexual privacy.
Who's betting there's gonna be a run on those hand-held neck massagers you can get at Targets from Mobile to Tuscaloosa? I'm sure glad the Alabama Slama is in Vietnam right now or she'd be cursing a blue streak at the legislators in her former home state.
I wonder what the punishment would be for owning such sinful items? It's a good thing the Slama no longer lives there, and I guess we won't be taking our "boyfriends" down to the Slama's family condo at Gulf Shores anytime soon.
In related news, The Bunny continues to string me along quite mercilessly. What's up with that?
sending good nooky vibes to the Brooklyn Freckler
If everyone could just concentrate for a minute and send some serious happy nooky vibes to one of my favorite people, the Brooklyn Freckler, I'd be ever so happy. BF is headed across the pond fairly shortly and will be seeing a former paramour; and, might I say, he should be taking his vitamins. And eatin' his spinach. And probably drinking lotsa fluids. Ah, Scottish men...
While you're at it, could you send me some happy nooky vibes? I should probably give the removable shower head a rest.
so maybe i've been a little harsh on the State of Misery
Seriously, friends, the weather has been so unbelievable out here. It was the coldest weekend for a July on record, and today has been just beautiful. I'm posting from my sister's house, where the temperature is in the 60's and listening to a buncha frogs singing out in their back yard. And watching my nephew scamper happily around the basement in his own little dimension.
The Reidster and I had a good day. We watched cartoons for a few minutes and then jetted over to my parents for a four-star breakfast. Then I took him to pre-school per His Highness's particular request. After pre-school, we went back to Nana and Papa's for some backyard baseball and coloring on the deck. He likes to rock out with me on our car trips, but does not like Jesse's Girl. Clearly, his parents are failing him.
I've had, quite possibly, the best sweet corn and tomatoes of my entire life these past few days. Tonight, Dad of Whiskypants cooked his famous Drunken Chicken out on the grill, and Mamasan whipped up some fresh green beans, cucumber and onion salad, yet more sweet corn-on-the-cob and tomatoes and fresh peach cobbler. I think it was okay to have seconds...
children of the corn
It's been unseasonably cool out here in the heartland - I was ready to trade in my hard lemonades and fuzzy navel wine coolers (so high school!!!) last night for some whisky to help keep me warm...
Bad news first: I did not find any cute male relatives to snog.
Good news: most of my extended (and previously unknown to me) family are good people. They drink hard, play hard, are damn funny and I will therefore claim them.
Of course, one never gets through a family reunion without some sort of drama. One of my mom's sisters had one of those senior hostile moments where she got all bunjed about our celebrating the birthday of an elderly sweet lady at the reunion. Another one of her sisters, upon my greeting her, said to me in this incredulous voice, "What have you done to your hair?!?!?" I had just gotten it colored the day before - and Desi has hosen a very sassy brunette tone for me with auburn highlights. I like it. This particular aunt feels the only good color on a woman is blonde which is why my really strange cousin has a head of fried-out bleach blonde hair. Lord, she looked awful. My reaction to this inappropriate question was to laugh very hard and say, "well, I checked in with my male friends and their answer to the 'blonde or blonder' question was a unanimous 'darker'...
Completely uninteresting information to most of you - my grandmother's side came over on the freaking Mayflower. I had no idea. And apparently I am eligible for DAR membership. Does anyone know if this DAR is just a bunch of crap or is seeking membership worthy of consideration?
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More when I get back to DC on Tuesday night...
personality test
This seems to be taking the blogging world by storm today. I'm either SECF or SECL - I split the follower/leader category right in half. Here are my results - the SECL is dead on! Except for the sober part. And the gold jewerly. And my commitment to the happiness of others.
Wackiness: 44/100
Rationality: 38/100
Constructiveness: 68/100
Leadership: 50/100
You are an SECF--Sober Emotional Constructive Follower. This makes you a hippie. You are passionate about your causes and steadfast in your commitments. Once you've made up your mind, no one can convince you otherwise. Your politics are left-leaning, and your lifestyle choices decidedly temperate and chaste. You do tremendous work when focused, but usually you operate somewhat distracted. You blow hot and cold, and while you normally endeavor on the side of goodness and truth, you have a massive mean streak which is not to be taken lightly. You don't get mad, you get even. Please don't get even with this web site.
You are an SECL--Sober Emotional Constructive Leader. This makes you a politician. You cut deals, you change minds, you make things happen. You would prefer to be liked than respected, but generally people react to you with both. You are very sensitive to criticism, since your entire business is making people happy. At times your commitment to the happiness of other people can cut into the happiness of you and your loved ones. This is very demanding on those close to you, who may feel neglected. Slowly, you will learn to set your own agenda--including time to yourself. You are gregarious, friendly, charming and charismatic. You like animals, sports, and beautiful cars. You wear understated gold jewelry and have secret bad habits, like chewing your fingers and fidgeting. You are very difficult to dislike.
mixing it up at my family reunion
Tomorrow night I'm off to very sexy Hannibal MO area for my very first extended family reunion. My mom is rilly excited about it, my sister is dreading it, and my dad is hoping that the beer will be plentiful and cold. Anner and I have been teasing our mom with minor threats about hopping a flight to Miami. She laughs, but I think we've got her worried. I've been lucky to live so far away - my only duty has been to reach out to a pretty cool relative in NYC to see if she was coming along. The momster (she's not really a monster - she's very cute) and Anner have wildly differening views on what Anner has actually agreed to do for this event.
I have offered to serve as bartender and tell outrageous lies to distant relatives I haven't yet met. Oh, and some to ones I don't particularly like. I've got some ideas:
- I'm the inspiration for Samantha's character on Sex in the City
- (F#@! it.) I'm the inspiration for all the primary characters on Sex in the City
- What am I doing in DC these days? Have you heard about this Washingtonienne...?
- Why haven't I married? Didn't mom tell you about Belinda and me?
- Yeah, I've been in the clandestine service for about 7 years now. Whoa, these drinks are strong!
- Did you know that it's legal to hook up with your second cousin, but not your first? That's so totally bogus.
Yeah, these need some work. Fortunately, the night is young and I have half a bottle of white rioja. Crap - I do need to pack.
twitterpated
My friends are the most creative bunch. They invent words. 'Twitterpated' is a damn fine example. As are 'piquerimated' and 'bunjed'. I like these new words because I get tired of the old words. I particularly like 'bunjed' as it's sound really conveys the feeling of the word. Just say it aloud and you'll start to know what I mean. Bunjed. Currently, I'm not bunjed, but I do have a teeny tiny headache.
Talking about twitterpated, I had dinner and drinks with The Maestro tonight. Gee, he's swell!
My very good friend - The Alabama Slama - is taking off for Vietnam on Thursday. Yo, TAS, bring me back something pretty! She brought me an incredibly lovely silk tapestry from her last visit to the Far East. I think it's from Cambodia - which is apparently the home to something called Happy Pizza... [Ed. note to TAS - please don't partake in this sort of activity as I fear getting you out of a Vietnamese prison might be rather impossible despite my odd connections.]
TAS is very brave - she tends to travel solo to the far ends of the world - mostly because the rest of us don't relish the idea of 24 hour flights or tromping through jungles. I've offered to accompany her next year on a whisky tasting tour of Scotland... She has counter-offered a trip to Bolivia because yo hablo la lengua. I'm holding out for Scotland as I fear my reaction to the water in Bolivia. [Dude - trust me on this one, TAS.]
Also, I want to see if my favorite joke about the Scottish will fly over there.
the latest object of my everchanging lust
It occurs to me that most of my friends don't realize what a swimmer I was as a kid. Fly and free were my events. While I was, by no means, a helluva swimmer, I was pretty good.
Anyways - here I am trying to recover from having two too many whiskey's last night and they've got olympic trials going on and all I can think about is how pretty Gary Hall Jr is.
So pretty it hurts (and I might have to do something about it)...
http://www.garyhalljr.com/gallery/Everlast/images/pretty_jpg.jpg
ow
After much drunken consideration, I've determined that The Bunny is not all talk.
He is all about stealth, which was a nice surprise. [But he also loses points for not sticking around to make me breakfast.]
Now where's my aspirin?
just one more reason why i'd rather be homeless than live in a trailer
I'm so not EVER going out with any guy that lives in a mobile home. Call me a snob if you must...
http://abcnews.go.com/wire/US/ap20040717_876.html
Florida Man Accused of Hitting Girlfriend With 3-Foot Alligator During Argument
The Associated Press
PORT ORANGE, Fla. July 17, 2004 — A man hit his girlfriend with a 3-foot alligator and threw beer bottles at her during an argument in the couple's mobile home, authorities said.
David Havenner, 41, was scheduled for a bond hearing Saturday on misdemeanor charges of battery and possession of an alligator.
The alligator, which Havenner had been keeping in his bathtub, was turned over to Florida wildlife officials.
Nancy Monico, 39, told investigators that Havenner beat her with his fists, then grabbed the alligator and swung it at her as she tried to escape, sheriff's spokesman Gary Davidson said. She said the animal hit her at least once. She also told authorities that Havenner threw empty beer bottles at her, Davidson said.
Havenner's version of the story differed. He told investigators that Monico bit his hand because she was upset that they had run out of alcohol.
muesli vs. words
While egging The Bunny on is one of my current favorite things to do, I'm thinking that my bravada has gotten the better of me and offended Bunny's sensibilities.
Looking at the facts (well, as factual as one may get on one's blog - which may not actually be factual at all - you never know), Bunny clearly has the advantage where late-night living is concerned. He frequents his local, well, frequently, and has provided us with many hilarious postings about his yucca-soaked evenings in Naptown.
As my friends are aware, my tolerance for adult beverages is pretty standard among chicks who might have a glass of wine each night. And CPB has been a excellent student of the whiskypants school of drinking, the main rule of which is to drink a glass of water for each potent potable. CPB thinks I'm rather amusing when tipsy, so at least Bunnykins has that to look forward to.
In any case - I'm the first person to admit when I am wrong. If this means I'll be having my words for breakfast tomorrow instead of muesli, you'll all be the first to know!
And Bunny? Bring it.
dirty dirty DIRTY dirty
Alas, my Friday night plans fell through... One of my favorite partners in crime - we'll call her CamillaParkerBowles to protect the not-so-innocent - has been hikacked by work. Everyone please send her some shinyhappyfun vibes as she is in dire need. LOVE YOU CPB!
It really doesn't matter to me one way or another if I stay home on a Friday night. I'm not a particularly fun or nice person by 6:30 pm on Fridays, so it's just as well that I'm staying home, freshly showered and esconced happily in my pj's. And finishing that bottle of wine that I started the other night... LOVE YOU BOTTLE OF WINE!
The Bunny has been regaling his minions with some seriously tall tales about my proclivities recently, which makes me think that he has me confused with some other chick. I'm not really concerned about it, in fact I'm thoroughly amused by his take on reality. Blogging each other (doesn't that sound dirty?) is a fun way to pass the time.
How many of you out there think Bunny Buns is all talk? Raise your hands... Yeah, me too.
Oh, and Bunny - you better have your rock star game face on tomorrow night.
blessed are the psychologically unbalanced
Happy Thursday night, my loves. It is an unbelievably nice night here in DC, so why the hell am I at home blogging? Oh well - gots to save my energy for the weekend - especially as I will be having drinks with The Bunny.
Ya see, The Bunny is a real handful. He's exceptionally bright and funny. And I suspect he has a nice following back in Naptown (read: he does not lack for female attention). I've gone out with Bunnyboy once before - many moons ago - and it was very enjoyable. Well, except for the fact that he didn't jump all over me, but let's let bygones be bygones. At least the boy gives outstanding email. And he's been spinning some pretty fuzzy yarns about me over on his blog. A talented writer with a very special perspective, and by special perspective I mean that I think he might be a little crazy. Yes, I've always had a soft spot for the psychologically unbalanced...
everyone say hello to salicious - the brooklyn connection!
Just so everyone is clear, salicious is a friend of mine. In fact, she's practically my hero. Sal has been living the Sex in the City dream since before Sex in the City. Its just that she finally got a VERY glam job a couple years ago that she really enjoys (unless she's still at work 11:30 pm - and we all know that only complete masochists are into that) and this has cut into her normal Samanthaesque activities.
In any case, the salster usually has something quite salacious going on, which is much more than I can say for myself at present. Unless, I can convince Mr. January (the guy I went out with about 3 times in Jan and Feb who knocked my socks off but was way too busy to build any momentum with...) to give me another try. Maybe we should call him Maestro as he should be teaching a Master class on a certain sex act. God bless you Maestro - and give me a call, dammit! [sigh]
No, sadly, there have been no fireworks, and there's nothing sadder than dating someone for which you feel absolutely zero heat. Oh wait, there is something sadder: having to go dutch on a date with someone for which you feel absolutely zero heat.
More after work (I'm home right now - feeling a bit yucky...)
fish or cut bait?
OK - so here's the dilemma - when do you know to cut bait? I mean, let's say you've been out with a guy 3 or 4 or 5 times (and after the initial fun newness has rubbed off), and you're not feeling attracted to said guy but you enjoy their company...? Oh, I know the answer.
Crap - this has happened with the last three guys I've dated and I don't want to get stuck in some sort of ice-princess-rut. And yes, I have tried drinking more.
the pressure...
All rightey - the first post is always the hardest so let's just get this over with. Why am I doing this? To help my friends keep up with my dating situation ("love-life" is just too strong a term for what I'm actually experiencing), to vent my workplace frustration, and because it's only fair. I've been a voyeur way too long and it's time for some quid pro quo...
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