Monday, November 26, 2007

Aftermath of Bird Day...

Nowhere but in the U.S. do we devote a whole day unto gathering around and eating the carcass of a large bird. I certainly put myself into a food coma. God, now I'm back at work. I have always maintained that if you get a short week at work, you WILL pay for in, one way or another. Actually, the day itself was pretty uneventful (though I did have to get out at one point and partake of an adult beverage or four). The next morning I foolishly went willingly to an area of mass commerce in order to make a return. (I bought a belt the night before The Day and STOOPID me did not try it on in the store and was horribly surprised when I discovered that the ends didn't even meet. Damn those stores and their faulty sizing.) I emerged victorious and spent the rest of the day enjoying my company. Later that evening, a friend of mine and I went to see Rent which was in town. I have seen it once and the movie countless times, but she had not so I thought what the hell. I thought it was nearly as good as the first time I had seen it. My friend dropped me off at my favorite night spot to wait for my friend that I fell for (hereafter referred to as HotAss). HotAss was supposed to meet me at the club but while I was at the show, wandered off with and individual of questionable repute (my opinion here). He met me back up there (good thing) as I had no ride and I would have had to kill him despite how fond I have grown of him. We stayed there for awhile and met some people and decided a change of venue was in order. What proceeded was nothing short of a bar tour of Memphis. Much later we decided to get something to eat.

The next day, when I went to work at my low-paying albeit fun part-time job, they told me I looked like hell. I said my friend and I had brunch. Can it still be brunch if it is at CK's Coffee Shop at 3:30 in the morning and you are as drunk as HELL? I say yes. Sounds more reputable. Needless to say, the next day was somewhat difficult to get through. Then I had to go to a tree-trimming party that night which is always a hoot. This year was no exception.

My favorite aunt from Florida was in and we had a nice visit. Except for one reallllllly minor thing that to me isn't so minor. When I was over at my friend's house (we'll call her Undisciplined Dog Lady or UDL... you have NO idea. Really, you don't) for a Christmas tree viewing, I made the comment that after her Golden Retriever got finished attacking me, that I would need to go to the Rape Crisis Center and get checked out. My lovely aunt states WITH ME IN THE ROOM that that is the only sex I have had, that she knows about, but she really doesn't know that much about me. See, I have not come out to her and there is a good reason. I DON'T WANT TO. I hate it when she fishes for clues for clues about my sexuality. The reason I don't want to tell her anything is that she tends to tell me what to do about everything, like she knows what is best for me. That is fine when she is decorating my house as she is a good decorator, but not about the gender of those to whom I am attracted. She would be totally fine with me being gay, but I just don't want her all up in my bidness. I would never hear the end of it. She would want to know every detail and all about who I am seeing or she would try to fix me up with people or God knows what else. Thank you just the same, no.

All that said, I really enjoyed the weekend and I got to see the guy I am kinda interested in...but I think I will leave that for the next post...Now, for a funny...

The Maid asked for a raise:

The Madam was very upset about this and asked: 'Now Maria, why do you want an increase?'

Maria: Well Senora, there are three reasons why I want an increase. The first is that I iron better than you.
Madam: 'Who said you iron better than me?'

Maria: 'The Master said so.'
Madam: 'Oh.'

Maria: 'The second reason is that I am a better cook than you.'
Madam: 'Nonsense, who said you were a better cook than I?'

Maria: 'The Master did.'
Madam: 'Oh.'

Maria: 'My third reason is that I am a better lover than you.'
Madam (very upset now): 'Did the Master say so as well?'

Maria: 'No Senora, the gardener did.'


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