BFFs

Please, We Need an Intervention

I went to Duane Reade at lunch to fill a prescription and also buy more toothpaste because I got tired of playing the "how-long-can-I-use-hotel-sample-sized-tubes" game. A friend, let's call her Shmate, came with me. We wanted to find some discounted Reeses seasonal peanut butter pumpkins (there's just SO MUCH MORE peanut butter in there!) and instead we found some shitty halloween assortment packs marked to 75% off. We bought 2.

When we got back to work, we closed the door of her office and separated the different types into piles:


Look at her eager little paws waiting to grab until after I'd taken the picture. Awww.



We bartered.

(Someone likes Almond Joys. No one likes 3 Musketeers - but we'll eat them, goddamn it.)



Recent email exchange...
BSH: I am having ONE MORE CANDY BAR and that is all. Ps, have already had a mini-snickers since I got back to my desk. I give this candy until tomorrow.
Shmate: We are terrible. I just sat in an hour long meeting and thought only about my mr goodbars.

Why My Boyfriend is Awesome

I came home from class on Tuesday, STARVING, and he'd made me a perfectly cooked steak for dinner. My, what service!

Flowers!

I got surprise flowers this morning from Crammo as thanks for throwing her baby-shower on Sunday. I was glad to do it, though I did spend the entire time fearful that she would start birthing in my apartment. Also, we discussed many, many horrible things including the cutting of the vag, pooping on the delivery table, how one would go about scooping poop/bloody entrails out of a rental jacuzzi, and the infamous baby-in-the-toilet show. One of our guests finally said in a quavery voice before fleeing, "ok, ok, that's enough" I think right after the vag-snipping conversation.

My, what beautiful flowers!

Sick

Last night I had to work at The Most Annoying Grocery Store in the World. This is a shift I swapped so I wouldn't have to work on Halloween and yesterday I did a shift so that I wouldn't have to work on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Thanks, coop.

I worked in the office, and by work I mean I spent two hours and forty five minutes calling members to say "Hi! This is [BSH] calling from the Park Slope Food Coop to remind you that you have a shift on Sunday and it's also day-light savings, so please remember to set your clock back one hour on Saturday night. Thanks!"

I got a lot of voicemail, but when people did pick up, the responses ranged from "oh yeah! Are we falling behind? Thanks so much for the reminder!" from young hipstery sounding types who are probably not employed and therefore would not know/care that the rest of America is running an hour later to a confused and annoyed sounding "...ok..." and then a hang-up from elderly black women.

In the office there are several 10 year old macs used for looking up member information. (This is a new system as of September when we switched over from filed index cards. Literally. 15,000 index cards. I am getting angry thinking about this.) When you work in the office, it's a well established rule that you should not be looking up ex-boyfriends, friends, frienemies, your old boss, etc. HOWEVER, NO ONE HAS EVER SAID DO NOT LOOK UP ADRIAN GRENIER AND FIND OUT HIS NEXT WORKSLOT AND HOME ADDRESS. No one has ever said that! They didn't tell me not to!

ps. He lives in Williamsburg. I have the street address. I've already google mapped it. Cram, want to come with and hide in a phone booth outside?
pps. I looked up Maggie Gyllenhaal too, but couldn't find her. Probably because I can't spell Gyllenhaal.

Seriously Thrilling

On November 9th, I am flying to Little Rock, Arkansas (hey! Maybe I'll run into my old subletter!) for an in-store author appearance at a Walmart Supercenter.

Friends, I've met authors. I've been hugged by Katherine Paterson and Kevin Henkes. I've had long phone conversations with Patricia MacLachlan. I "produced" a video of Vera B. Williams. I am a close, personal friend of Seymour Simon. But friends, I am really, truly excited about the author I am going to meet in less than 2 weeks.

I will be the personal escort of Ms. Ree Drummond, AKA The Pioneer Woman, at the Little Rock stop on her publicity tour for her new cookbook. OMFG. I'm already star-struck and I'm not even sure how I'm going to make it through the night. There's also a possibility that I will get to take her out to dinner after the event and I can barely process that. One step at a time. One bacon-wrapped-jalepeno-thingy at a time.

ps. Go buy her book. It's AWESOME.

Halloweiner

I think I'm going to be a rabid raccoon for Halloween. Mostly because it means I get to wear a sweatsuit. Yeesssss.

Right now I'm struggling with the foamy mouth question-- what can I use that won't be too messy and gross and I can reapply as needed?

Please help me achieve my dream of wearing jammies all night in public.

From My Email This Morning

With all of the upcoming changes to our program and as a reward for your loyalty to Continental we will move your Elite status to Silver early and the status is effective through February 28, 2011.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS? I GET TO SKIP THE LINES, AND I GET FREE BAGGAGE CHECKS, AND I GET A 25% BONUS ON ANY MILES, AND I MAY OCCASIONALLY GET UPGRADED TO FIRST CLASS. HEART ATTACK. JOY. I AM FINALLY ONE OF THOSE FIRST CLASS FUCKING BASTARDS.

Soliciation

I’ve got the travel bug. Where should we go next? I want something [somewhat] cheap, but also wonderful. No Niagara Falls in January, please. Has anyone been to Mexico recently? Any suggestions?

Breaking Through the Fart Wall

Well, it finally happened: I farted in front of Travis [and he heard it]. My new name around the house is Goat Princess Tooter or, GPT-- sort of like PYT but awful.

The Goat Princess part is because sometimes I bleat when I'm hungover. "maahhhhhh stay with meeeeeee I'm neeeeedy maaaaaaah."