Progress Report: $14.00 saved. 66 cigarettes not smoked. My head keeps telling me I want them, but my mouth is telling me they taste like ass now. It's funny. I used to tell people, "I smoke because I enjoy it. I don't feel the need to quit." I was so convinced this was a CHOICE. I never understood how hooked I'd become, how hard this would be, or how much I'd made my life revolve around them. I will be so happy when it's six months from now and I don't have to feel like this.
Thank you Folioweekly for once again providing the blog fodder.
I Saw You:
BB'S BISTRO 1/28. Another option! I said, "Water with lemon or lime." You said, "I love it! She gives me options." You gave me just what I wanted: water with lime and magic. I'm shy, but you're beautiful. You're beautiful... It's true! She's quoting James Blunt lyrics and cheesing over a waiter who was probably just trying to get a decent tip. Where the hell's my "Clueless" stamp?
COZY BEAR, FLAME WEAR. You: Large tattooed man driving silver Toyota Prius with bumper sticker, "Yellowstone or Bust." Me: Listening to Paula Abdul on my iPod, eating bagel with mayo. We spoke at F.H. Riley's; I noticed your perfect diction. Grrrr!! Flame wear? Yellowstone? Bagel with MAYO?! The whole ad offends my sensibility.
CHEF W/ SHOE OBSESSION. At the market, me: very important person checking out pork chop. You: overly bruised chef scoping out the mackerel, quite faking the funk. Make it a Bic Mac day everyday. Besides, there are worse things you could do. I want to know, how does one fake the funk? Either you're funky or you're not. And where does the "shoe obsession" come into play? Why was the chef bruised? What's up with the McDonald reference? Was he a chef at McDonalds? Can they really be called chefs? I mean, all they do is heat up pre-packaged food all day. What's worse than that? Fucking ad.
Men Seeking Women:
ROMANTIC ROADKILL. 49-year old divorced Serge A. Storms wannabe seeking a special Sharon Rhodes to share some midlife mayhem. Take a chance, I'll bring the "Fix-a-Flat." Who the hell are these people? I no longer think Google is all knowing.
KNIGHT DAZED. Armor rusted! Galahad bought horse! Left castle for mobile home kingdom. Single white male, 48, 6', 205, non-smoker seeks totally liberated, sensual, shapely, funny, adventurous, female for dangerous liaisons! "Aye sire, 'tis a wickedly wonderful wench I seek!" Me thinks ye need to lay off the mead sire.
Women Seeking Men:
BAD BOY FOR BAD GIRL. I'm a petite, easygoing, middle-aged Mom. I'm hard-working, energetic, and a social drinker. Looking for non-possessive and spontaneous man who is physically fit and financially secure. Rugged preferred. I never knew "Bad girl" and "middle-aged Mom" were synonyms!
Daily Hoop Conversation:
Hoop: What's going on at the library this late at night?
Tink: An orgy.
Hoop: *Chokes on spit* Oh yeah?
Tink: They all have to dress up like authors.
Hoop: That could be interesting.
Tink: I'd want to be Faulkner.
Hoop: I'd want to be that one author.
Tink: Which one author?
Hoop: The really famous one that lived in Florida.
Tink: Um, ok?
Hoop: He had a six toed cat.
Tink: A six toed cat? I have NO earthly idea babe.
Hoop: Yeah, that's it!
Tink: Wow, lucky guess.
Hoop: We'd be Faulkner and Hemingway.
Tink: You realize there is no library orgy of authors right?
Daily Hoop Conversation 2:
Hoop: I wish sperm was as addictive as cigarettes.
Tink: I bet you do.
Hoop: "What? You want to give me head AGAIN?"
Tink: Dream on.
Hoop: "But I'm tired! Oh OK. If you insist."
Tink: Shut up.
Hoop: "But after that we have to go to work, OK? We have to leave the house sometime."