<%@LANGUAGE="JAVASCRIPT" CODEPAGE="1252"%> Whisky Pants
     
     
     

Look, I'm not doing this for you, but for my own dark and twisted reasons. Oh, and because everyone else is doing it.

 
 

September 15, 2004

something's amiss

I don't know what it is, but everybody seems to be wearing extra loud crankypants (I'm borrowing that term from Ms. Chewy) at the moment. And I'm not exactly helping.

Of course, it doesn't help that I've had a sinus headache going on for about 10 days now - and tonight the pain is settling into my left year. Yes, I'm taking antibiotics for the infection.

The Alabama Slama has her own issues: her job situation is rather untenable, her mom's condo in Gulf Shores is about to meet with Hurricane Ivan, the idiots on nerve.com in NYC won't wink back at her (seriously, guys - she has the best. ass. ever. - hey TAS - maybe you should put that in your profile)...

My sister has morning sickness, except her morning sickness last 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. This fact alone makes me wary of pregnancy. If I can't handle a damn sinus headache without getting snippy I don't know if I could handle being pregnant.

The Brooklyn Freckler's job is insane and she hearts a man who lives across the pond. A man with a Scottish accent. (When he comes back, could he bring a friend?)

Online dating is a crazy-ass crapshoot. Thank god for the delete button. And for the relative anonymity of screennames. I've gotten to the point that I no longer flirt in my responses. If I'm not flirting you KNOW there's a problem. I'm nearly surly. And I'm almost to the point of giving up. But then I wouldn't get treated to amazing dinners out with different guys. On Monday, the most recent contender (too metrosexual) had two free tickets to a wine/food pairing at Tosca. I put on extra black eyeliner and a brave face. It was worth it.

So, I'm really hoping this is a passing phase. For us all.


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