Dear 2shirts

Not sad. Missing a friend base and a catbirds. ;)

And so so so so so so busy.

But thanks and miss you!

I'm back, sort of

My router is all f'd up, so it takes longer than dial up to connect to any webpage, and when it does, it doesn't pull up anything hi-res. Needless to say, I haven't blogged since Feb 27. The only internet access I've had has been at work, and right now, I'm at a local pub using the wifi.

So what's happened in over a month? I don't remember, so it must've been good. Here are the highlights I recall in no particular order:

* SBT won't talk to me anymore. I'm a threat.
* 2shirts and I got a little tipsy over a bottle of really good wine at a local wine bar. We were grading papers at the time. A glassful of vino helps the grading go down...
* Finished up work at Crazytech. Whew!
* Met a bunch of rocket scientists at the local pub. Yes, literally, they are rocket scientists. Why did that night remind me of a night out with Glinda?
* # of hangovers: 4. Evidentally I have not taken up G's need to end consumerism.
* # of visits to Bizarro Catbirds: 0
* # of visits to Catbirds: 1; I did not get blitzed, but I did have one Caucasian and scared Nerfherder a bit. I think I've become a Maneater.
* # of men frightened: 4
* Spent an entire Friday at the art museum in the old hood. I miss the old hood.
* Made $300 at a fundraiser. Thanks, guys.
* Pretended to be a photographer at a wedding. 110 pics out of 300 something were good. Works for me. Hopefully it works for the artist formally known as Narc.
* Narc is now known as BJ, not for his ability or desire to give or receive BJs but because he is Bizarro Jerry. This requires an entire post to itself, but I'm not sure I'm up to it today.
* Met the New Narc or NuNarc as he will be dubbed on this blog. Unbelievable. Apparently he thinks I'm pretty but not hot enough to make him want to rip off my dress. Wow. What a ladies man.
* Favorite text message [from Glinda]: "I'm watching a Mariah Carey video with unicorns. WTF? Oh, and a midget spanked me." Apparently, she was not high.
* Hung out at same local pub with some guys who race professionally. I actually used the term Chilton manual in a conversation. Note to self: professional race boys don't like Chimay, only drink Bud products, and think older women are hot. Nice to know.
* Was approached to apply for a position as an Old Spice Girl. That's Old Spice the product, not an old Spice Girl. Still, it makes me giggle. I see myself next to Sporty with Old Spice written in Sharpie across my chest singing: "So tell me what you want, what you really, really want.."
* # of times I've declined a drink from someone with a beer tshirt on at ye local pub since I've started writing this post: 4.

That's about it, folks. I'd post about the Bizarro Jerry thing, but it's lost its humor, I fear.

*

need. vault.

Murfle.

To answer Darth's text msg: No, I did not find a new Catbirds. This was a temporary Catbirds, and my dears, I think it's worse. I won't be brightening up its doors again with my presence, trust me.

I'm thinking the place was a previous stripjoint--nondescript door, no signage, no windows, an awning, a POLE and disco ball on a tiny little dance floor. ah god. I have to admit that the pole called to me instantaneously, and I resisted for awhile.

The only reason we knew we were in the right place for a birthday party was because the name of the bar was scrawled in neon cursive above the bar, the only light in the place, well, unless you count the disco ball. We were there for the bday of a former colleague, a woman who puts on one hell of a party. A few years ago, the shindig involved some 200 people, Cajun food, candles, some concoction made of nothing but pineapples and grey goose, a live band and a DJ, and several kegs of Heineken which prompted 2shirts to get so falling down drunk that he was nicknamed the Assgrabber. Yes, our own 2shirts grabbed the ass (several times) of the honoree's husband, gaining him the name (dubbed by husband). This, of course, led to many conversations about 2shirt's need for a chocolate rim and the like, but I digress.

Well, 2shirts touched the pole first (no pun intended), and then after a few more hours, I did. Spun around it. Yup. That was fun. I just needed some antibac gel after that.

The cake was sweet. I ate too much, and now I have a splitting headache and messed up blood sugar today, but it was fun while it lasted. Excuse me, gotta go find some energy so-dah!

My own version of Groundhog's day

Well, it's official. I've been here two years now. Tuesday marks the 2 year anniversary that I started my descent from Chicago into Texas, crying the entire bloody way while Edgy tried to console me that Texas would be ok and that I could always visit Chicago.

Yesterday marks the day that I woke up in Arkansas and thought, "It's not too late. I can turn back." But I didn't. I drove right on into Helltown during the middle of the superbowl (which was in Houston that year).

Today, though, marks the day that I, dressed as a couch because my clothes were all covered in wine that exploded from the freezing temps in my car, started work at HCC, met TwoShirts and Glinda (the only plus), and started a life of hell that seems to replay itself every fucking day that I awaken to the sound of ImaTool and Doofus in the morning, "It's a wonderful morning to be alive," and drive off to yet another job that sucks the marrow from my bones.

Now, to celebrate, I plan to go to bed, wake up tomorrow to ImaTool and Doofus, hopefully see my fucking shadow and crawl back in my little hole to hibernate for 6 more weeks. By that time, it will be Spring Break.

Cheers!

Auld acquaintance did forget

to blog about New Years. Highlights:

• Driving down to Kemah for the cruise, only to realize, as we were almost there, that I left Edgy's shirt hanging on the light switch at home. I had bought him a new one for the event.
  
• Pulling over to SteinMart to pick up a shirt because the drive back home was too horrendous to think about, and the mall in suburban Clear Lake on New Year's Eve was ungodly
• Walking around SteinMart trying to find a shirt. I can't explain this store, but I think that the parts of my body that are still youthful and moist started immediately crusting up with age. It looks like my ex-boyfriend's grandmother's house.
• Leaving SteinMart because there was no shirt to be found
• Heading over to Marshall's. I thought that Walmart was the epitome of hell, but Marshall's takes the cake. Found a shirt at Marshall's that was passable. No tie. I think that there were only 12 shirts and 3 ties in the whole store anyway.
• Burlington Coat Factory--Oh sweet god this one took the cake. Worst store ever. Usually I don't mind BCF much, but the one in Clear Lake looks like Armageddon bitch slapped it. Found a tie, though and was hit on by a 19 year old butch woman buying white linen bellbottomed pants (how the hell she found them in winter, I dunno) and a wallet on a chain and who was higher than a kite on a mid March day and said things like, "I like the sound of the beeping machine, don't you? It gets me all hot".
• Driving down the wrong damned country road while trying to find the resort hotel. Starving to death and singing a soon to be hit by Cranky and Edgy, "Doing the Samba Chicken Dance."
• At this point thinking that we could have driven home and gotten Edgy's shirt by now.
• making it to the hotel where they tell all of us that we won't get our king sized bed because they overbooked, even though we booked a month in advance
• Waiting for 2 hours for the "cruise line provided" taxi. getting on said taxi and while driving off, the driver says, "Oh by the way, it's 10 bucks a head and won't be covered by the cruise line."
• Fabbo food. I'm still dreaming about bacon wrapped shrimp in grand marnier cream sauce. No, the eclairs were better. mmmmm
• The lemon bar from hell--tasted like floor cleaner
• open bar and a man at our table who brought a bottle of scotch as long as my calves
• dancing on the top of a boat in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico
• Edgy calling TwoShirts to pick us up and bringing the phone back to me. Almost everyone in my phonebook had been accidentally dialed before he got to TwoShirts.
• TwoShirts picking us up at the dock
• party on the 6th floor with people we didn't know who then kicked us out of their room so that they could have crazy monkey sex and then one of the men looking at me and saying, "You look so much better when I'm drunk." Did wonders for my self esteem.
• celebrating New years at 12 Eastern, Central, and Mountain time thx to text messaging
• Edgy locking us out of the room and then us calling Glinda to tell her about it
• Watching "I'm a whore" on tv with TwoShirts and Edgy. Weirdness.
  
• Edgy passing out and TwoShirts leaving and me still watching tv.

Yeah, New years hasn't changed much really.