I'm all for the wingman. Sometimes.
I think when a shy woman or man has a very outgoing, ballsy to the wall type of person with them at the bar, their chances of hooking up are greater.
When two outgoing people go the bar together, it could mean trouble in the form of competition. If your wingman is boring and bitchy, your chances are low.
Prospects view your friends as a direct reflection of what you may be.
Especially if your wingman is not attractive, I could go into details there, but Bev you know what I'm saying, right? I'll just say, I'd rather cute people be my wingman than not.
If you leave the bar number-less, you are sure to have a great time with your friend.
Wingmen are great.
But what happens when you hire your wingman? Or should say, wing woman. This was forwarded to me, today: VIP Wing Women.
Genius?
I'd say yes. I'm sure these women are making some cash with their original idea.
But could they stop and think of the rest of us at the bar? Does jealousy really pop up when you see a man at the bar with other women? Causing you to want him?
The only thing that pops into my mind when I see a man with another woman is that he is already taken.
Let's say, that this technique works on you. Then later, you find out that, that wingwoman was hired? And doesn't know him but was placed there to lure you in...well, it worked, so what could you do then?
This is what I propose:
They have it backwards, the men don't need women to get women. Men need no one. The women need a woman to get men. Note, I said "woman" singular.
I don't believe in a whole coven of women heading to the bar with high expectations of meeting some men. No. Way.
I think all it takes is me and one other. That's all. The bigger the group, the more intimidating we look to potentials.
If the wingwoman is hot, yeah for me. She'll lure him in, but my wit and expertise flirting can do the rest.
Or, she'll lure in his buddy: the one who only goes for the hot babes in the bar and I'll be left with his quirky friend, that no one else thinks is the hot one.
Not that he isn't cute. Just that he is the one, like, let's say the Josh Lucas of the bar. He's good looking, but not so much that he thinks he can bed anything that walks, and he is the shy one. More shy than his buddy who is busy trying to get my wing woman's digits.
Get it?
Ah-ha. Like I said, they have it backwards. We're the ones that need this service, not men.
I'm just saying its all about who you surround yourself with. If I go to the bar with another man, I'm not looking available. The same goes for men that are there with other women.
I just don't see this service working in men's favor---am I missing something?
Thursday, July 28
Wednesday, July 27
Hot or Not
Can someone please explain to me how Melinda is more hot than Joey? Is it because she is blonde, tall, big-boobed--what is it? Oh, yeah I'm talking about the Real World: Austin. So, then maybe someone should explain to me why I care. I'm watching because it's in Austin, the old stomping grounds. Is that a good excuse? Oh, and Dog: Bounty Hunter looked boring last night. Yeah, I watch that, too.
In the very first episode of RW: Austin, all the boys in the house went ga-ga over Melinda. I was stumped. The two smart boys got over it and started their 'groupie drawer'.
As a woman maybe I realize I should be appalled, but I think it's genius. They each throw in numbers from girls that they have met out on the town. Then they blindly pick a number and call. Now, if this was eight years ago--would my number be in that drawer? Hell, yeah. Not because they are hot, but because back then I'd probably would have drooled over Wes and hello--cameras! Whoa, let me get rid of the faux-shame, y'all now I speak the truth. If I lived in Austin, now, don't be shocked if my number would be in that drawer.
Danny has a thing for Melinda and it bothers me. She's just not that cute. The traipsing around the house in her undies, can we say "attention-whore"? Then, again, Danny's looks could be questionable as well.
Everyone has their own idea of what's hot and what's not. With me, it should take more than big boobs and blonde hair. Right?
How else can you explain why men drool over Pamela Anderson? Or why Melinda is that hot?
If I lived in the Real Word house, you bet I'd be like Wes, trying to bed Johanna, big time.
Oy, I need to stop watching this crap.
In the very first episode of RW: Austin, all the boys in the house went ga-ga over Melinda. I was stumped. The two smart boys got over it and started their 'groupie drawer'.
As a woman maybe I realize I should be appalled, but I think it's genius. They each throw in numbers from girls that they have met out on the town. Then they blindly pick a number and call. Now, if this was eight years ago--would my number be in that drawer? Hell, yeah. Not because they are hot, but because back then I'd probably would have drooled over Wes and hello--cameras! Whoa, let me get rid of the faux-shame, y'all now I speak the truth. If I lived in Austin, now, don't be shocked if my number would be in that drawer.
Danny has a thing for Melinda and it bothers me. She's just not that cute. The traipsing around the house in her undies, can we say "attention-whore"? Then, again, Danny's looks could be questionable as well.
Everyone has their own idea of what's hot and what's not. With me, it should take more than big boobs and blonde hair. Right?
How else can you explain why men drool over Pamela Anderson? Or why Melinda is that hot?
If I lived in the Real Word house, you bet I'd be like Wes, trying to bed Johanna, big time.
Oy, I need to stop watching this crap.
Tuesday, July 26
My New Toy
It does vibrate, but its not that kind of toy. I got a new phone...a camera phone, to be exact. Where the heck was I without one? Want to see the hottie sitting next to me at the bar, click, snap, and text it off to you. It's so easy, now.
When I first got the phone, last week, it took me all night, around 4 hours, to read the manual, backwards and forwards. Yes, I'm old. When did that happen? Why does it take a new gadget to make us feel old? Is this how our parents felt when the internet broke out?
There are so many bells and whistles on my new Motorola, I'm still breaking into a scared sweat when it rings. How do I answer the damn thing?!?
I need a ten year old STAT to show me how to flip it open and answer a call.
And I'm the girl who can hook up her stereo system all by herself. Uh-huh! I was also the girl who was a bit apprehensive to buy a DVD player. Maybe this is why I am staying as far away as possible from the iPod.
I was hesitant to upgrade my phone because this, this I cannot handle. New buttons that do the old functions. Ring tones that sound like an alien invasion. A bright colored screen that can pop up the internet. A camera to capture video and stills...well, that I can handle. Like a true gadget geek that thinks they have discovered what no one else knows; I've been taking pictures and sending them out like it's the newest thing. It was, like a couple years ago.
I knew it was enough, when I started a phone conversation with: "Hey, did you know I can take videos? I'm sending you one, right now. Did you get it? Huh? Huh? It's too cool!"
That alone has turned me into my mother when she discovered e-mail. "Oh, it's so fast, Golightly. And I can write the same email to more than one person. WOW" She exclaimed to me as I rolled my eyes.
Oy.
What's next?
A Bluetooth ear piece?
When I first got the phone, last week, it took me all night, around 4 hours, to read the manual, backwards and forwards. Yes, I'm old. When did that happen? Why does it take a new gadget to make us feel old? Is this how our parents felt when the internet broke out?
There are so many bells and whistles on my new Motorola, I'm still breaking into a scared sweat when it rings. How do I answer the damn thing?!?
I need a ten year old STAT to show me how to flip it open and answer a call.
And I'm the girl who can hook up her stereo system all by herself. Uh-huh! I was also the girl who was a bit apprehensive to buy a DVD player. Maybe this is why I am staying as far away as possible from the iPod.
I was hesitant to upgrade my phone because this, this I cannot handle. New buttons that do the old functions. Ring tones that sound like an alien invasion. A bright colored screen that can pop up the internet. A camera to capture video and stills...well, that I can handle. Like a true gadget geek that thinks they have discovered what no one else knows; I've been taking pictures and sending them out like it's the newest thing. It was, like a couple years ago.
I knew it was enough, when I started a phone conversation with: "Hey, did you know I can take videos? I'm sending you one, right now. Did you get it? Huh? Huh? It's too cool!"
That alone has turned me into my mother when she discovered e-mail. "Oh, it's so fast, Golightly. And I can write the same email to more than one person. WOW" She exclaimed to me as I rolled my eyes.
Oy.
What's next?
A Bluetooth ear piece?
Monday, July 25
I'm Too Nice or Weak, You Decide
Friday night was a blockbuster night due to cancelled plans and the Groomsman. I watched "Shall We Dance". Yeah, I know and you know how much I love the J. Lo. I can tell you, the movie was not all that bad. I love ballroom dancing, Richard Gere, and yes, Jennifer Lopez, so all in all: it was not bad. Did I want to be home watching it on a Friday night? Noooooooo. I couldn't help that.
Groomsman made the whole Friday night fiasco worse by calling me in the middle of his softball game. Some would think that was sweet. But, those some didn't hear the yelling of cheers and the "oh, I'm up to bat, gotta go" either, so, yeah.
Later that night, I let him have it. AP would be so proud of me, that I'm letting people know exactly how I feel. That's a big problem with me.
I don't let people know how I feel or what I want. Me? Yeah, me. Hard to imagine right? I'm so full of opinions when it has nothing to do with my personal life. Go figure. I remembered a quote from the great Julia Roberts while she was on the not so great Oprah show. Roberts said, "You have to teach people how to treat you"
So freaking true.
The next day was spent entirely with Groomsman. This is the "I'm too nice or weak" part. Let me tell you, it was only out of default, partly. I had to get my brake lights fixed. For a week, I was one of those drivers we hate, whose brake lights were not working.
How did I know? There is no freaking warning light in your car for when lights stop working. Or maybe that's just my car. Anyway, a group of scary construction workers were behind me in traffic and at a stoplight, one jumped out the truck and banged on my window to warn me. Ohkay, I so didn't roll down the window like he wanted. I don't know where he thought he was, but, hello we live in Dallas. He kept banging, so I rolled down the window a smidge. Thank goodness, he was the only one that warned me this week.
My car mechanic is located directly across the street from Groomsman's apartment building. Coincidence? YES. Don't go there, I'm not that kind of crazy girl.
Since it was 9:00 in the morning and I was pissed the night before, I decided to wake him up. I thought it was fair that he had to play host while my car was getting fixed. That was fair enough, right?
I went over and he took me to brunch (my suggestion) and then we shopped. And the boy can shop. He has some serious style that normal heterosexual men don't have, example: He is not scared of a pink shirt or baby blue cargo shorts.
When I say he can shop, he actually sat interested while I tried on the same Kenneth Cole* dress, different sizes for an hour. He was okay when I left the store empty handed. Then he was all still wanting to hit up Nordstroms for himself. That's when he dropped the "My parents are friends with Mr. and Mrs. Nordstroms"---What the shopper? Your parents are what with whom?
That sentence in itself almost made me forget about Friday night. Almost.
By the time all the shopping ended, it was near time for me to meet up with some friends. So I did and took him along with me. That didn't go so well...
How can I put this, hmm....uh, well, Groomsman is not so down with the Gays, as I am. Huge shocker! He doesn't hate and he said he is not a homophobic, but I (and my friend) could so tell he was very uncomfortable in the situation, to which she just had to point out how much more comfortable and fun Incredible was when she first met him.
Whoa.
OK. Granted my friend is a lesbian, so she may not have that much pull here. She went on and on about how much incredible and I "fit". Then I had to explain to her the dealio. She responded with, "So and are you so easy to date?"
Double Whoa.
Then Kelli went on to tell me how, I don't tell people what I want and/or how I feel...uh-huh, and how there was that time that Incredible told me the reason he can't be so committed/boyfriend up in my face was for that exact same reason. And how if she was dating me, how the heck would she know what I wanted out of a relationship if I wasn't voicing my wants and needs and for that she agrees with Incredible and she likes him better and I need to figure out my deal, so there!
Those lesbians sure know how to speak some truth whether you want to hear it or not.
So, you know I spent some time Sunday with Incredible. And now, I may have to break out a con/pro list. Are you ready, Belvis? I still have the one from World Cup versus Incredible.
*My friend Sergio's last day at Kenneth Cole was Saturday. That is the only way (his 'last day' discount) I was even considering buying that dress. As we all know, I am the discount shopper. Sergio and I both decided, that you need to be Kate Moss thin to wear that dress. After many sizes were tried on and all the sales people tried to tie it different ways, on my curvy body, it was just too un-flattering.
Groomsman made the whole Friday night fiasco worse by calling me in the middle of his softball game. Some would think that was sweet. But, those some didn't hear the yelling of cheers and the "oh, I'm up to bat, gotta go
Later that night, I let him have it. AP would be so proud of me, that I'm letting people know exactly how I feel. That's a big problem with me.
I don't let people know how I feel or what I want. Me? Yeah, me. Hard to imagine right? I'm so full of opinions when it has nothing to do with my personal life. Go figure. I remembered a quote from the great Julia Roberts while she was on the not so great Oprah show. Roberts said, "You have to teach people how to treat you"
So freaking true.
The next day was spent entirely with Groomsman. This is the "I'm too nice or weak" part. Let me tell you, it was only out of default, partly. I had to get my brake lights fixed. For a week, I was one of those drivers we hate, whose brake lights were not working.
How did I know? There is no freaking warning light in your car for when lights stop working. Or maybe that's just my car. Anyway, a group of scary construction workers were behind me in traffic and at a stoplight, one jumped out the truck and banged on my window to warn me. Ohkay, I so didn't roll down the window like he wanted. I don't know where he thought he was, but, hello we live in Dallas. He kept banging, so I rolled down the window a smidge. Thank goodness, he was the only one that warned me this week.
My car mechanic is located directly across the street from Groomsman's apartment building. Coincidence? YES. Don't go there, I'm not that kind of crazy girl.
Since it was 9:00 in the morning and I was pissed the night before, I decided to wake him up. I thought it was fair that he had to play host while my car was getting fixed. That was fair enough, right?
I went over and he took me to brunch (my suggestion) and then we shopped. And the boy can shop. He has some serious style that normal heterosexual men don't have, example: He is not scared of a pink shirt or baby blue cargo shorts.
When I say he can shop, he actually sat interested while I tried on the same Kenneth Cole* dress, different sizes for an hour. He was okay when I left the store empty handed. Then he was all still wanting to hit up Nordstroms for himself. That's when he dropped the "My parents are friends with Mr. and Mrs. Nordstroms"---What the shopper? Your parents are what with whom?
That sentence in itself almost made me forget about Friday night. Almost.
By the time all the shopping ended, it was near time for me to meet up with some friends. So I did and took him along with me. That didn't go so well...
How can I put this, hmm....uh, well, Groomsman is not so down with the Gays, as I am. Huge shocker! He doesn't hate and he said he is not a homophobic, but I (and my friend) could so tell he was very uncomfortable in the situation, to which she just had to point out how much more comfortable and fun Incredible was when she first met him.
Whoa.
OK. Granted my friend is a lesbian, so she may not have that much pull here. She went on and on about how much incredible and I "fit". Then I had to explain to her the dealio. She responded with, "So and are you so easy to date?"
Double Whoa.
Then Kelli went on to tell me how, I don't tell people what I want and/or how I feel...uh-huh, and how there was that time that Incredible told me the reason he can't be so committed/boyfriend up in my face was for that exact same reason. And how if she was dating me, how the heck would she know what I wanted out of a relationship if I wasn't voicing my wants and needs and for that she agrees with Incredible and she likes him better and I need to figure out my deal, so there!
Those lesbians sure know how to speak some truth whether you want to hear it or not.
So, you know I spent some time Sunday with Incredible. And now, I may have to break out a con/pro list. Are you ready, Belvis? I still have the one from World Cup versus Incredible.
*My friend Sergio's last day at Kenneth Cole was Saturday. That is the only way (his 'last day' discount) I was even considering buying that dress. As we all know, I am the discount shopper. Sergio and I both decided, that you need to be Kate Moss thin to wear that dress. After many sizes were tried on and all the sales people tried to tie it different ways, on my curvy body, it was just too un-flattering.
Friday, July 22
Crystal Clear
My friend E and I just figured out why I am so bothered by Groomsman's tactics (or lack of).
It may not be me meeting him out at bars, etc. that is so much bothering me. Because, honestly speaking I have driven out to meet up with peeps at the bar before.
In this case, if I had the choice, I'd rather meet him at his apartment then go out to these places that he always is, together. Together. Big difference.
Versus meeting him out there like his trade. You know what I mean? Trades were so college, we're in the real world now.
Trades have now turned into dates. To some of you, there may not be a difference. To, me, there is. I want to go with him, not meet up with him.
Would I tell him that? Hell to the no--I think he should be initiating that one, right?
The same deal just happened, like, twenty minutes ago and I am semi-pissed--no, the more I think, talk/email about it, I am full blown mad.
He called me at work.
(oh, can we discuss how he still has my work number because the last time I gave it to him was, uhm, back in September, 2004.)
I told him that my previous plans for tonight fell through and I'm available for whatever he had planned. He texted me earlier for plans tonight, but I had to reply that I was busy. That fell through, so I emailed him letting him know that I was open, now.
He tells me that he playing softball until who knows when and that after that, he doesn't know what is happening but as soon as he is at a bar*, he'll call me, so I can meet up with him.
Here we go, again. Are y'all bored, yet?
1. Why won't he ask me to watch him play? Just to let you all know, I already asked him, last week, if I could come watch him play one day. His reply was, 'sure'.
2. Why do I have to meet up with him? Why? So, I'm supposed to sit around until the game is over (who knows what time that will be) and then meet him out at a bar?
3. Am I, bar girl? What the...
4. And drumroll please...why would he ask me out, fully knowing he has a game. A game, which he has no clue when it will end or where he will be afterwards? Because meeting someone at the bar is not a date. I repeat: not a date. So, don't even bother asking.
*He so doesn't drink, due to his medical condition. Which brings me to another problem: Why is he always at bars? I'm too pissed at this phone call that I cannot even touch that subject right now.
It may not be me meeting him out at bars, etc. that is so much bothering me. Because, honestly speaking I have driven out to meet up with peeps at the bar before.
In this case, if I had the choice, I'd rather meet him at his apartment then go out to these places that he always is, together. Together. Big difference.
Versus meeting him out there like his trade. You know what I mean? Trades were so college, we're in the real world now.
Trades have now turned into dates. To some of you, there may not be a difference. To, me, there is. I want to go with him, not meet up with him.
Would I tell him that? Hell to the no--I think he should be initiating that one, right?
The same deal just happened, like, twenty minutes ago and I am semi-pissed--no, the more I think, talk/email about it, I am full blown mad.
He called me at work.
(oh, can we discuss how he still has my work number because the last time I gave it to him was, uhm, back in September, 2004.)
I told him that my previous plans for tonight fell through and I'm available for whatever he had planned. He texted me earlier for plans tonight, but I had to reply that I was busy. That fell through, so I emailed him letting him know that I was open, now.
He tells me that he playing softball until who knows when and that after that, he doesn't know what is happening but as soon as he is at a bar*, he'll call me, so I can meet up with him.
Here we go, again. Are y'all bored, yet?
1. Why won't he ask me to watch him play? Just to let you all know, I already asked him, last week, if I could come watch him play one day. His reply was, 'sure'.
2. Why do I have to meet up with him? Why? So, I'm supposed to sit around until the game is over (who knows what time that will be) and then meet him out at a bar?
3. Am I, bar girl? What the...
4. And drumroll please...why would he ask me out, fully knowing he has a game. A game, which he has no clue when it will end or where he will be afterwards? Because meeting someone at the bar is not a date. I repeat: not a date. So, don't even bother asking.
*He so doesn't drink, due to his medical condition. Which brings me to another problem: Why is he always at bars? I'm too pissed at this phone call that I cannot even touch that subject right now.
I'll Play Bobby, You Play Whitney
It was a hell to the no kind of night...as they usually are on Thursday nights because that's crazy Whitney night in the Golightly household. Prior to that car-wreck, I went to a wine tasting with my neighbor. Who does not live below me...or did we discuss that already? I'm losing my memory.
I didn't eat before the tasting of the wine and you know that leads to trouble. There were so many males at the wine tasting. I didn't know what to think: gay, straight, metrosexual, or just loves wine? They were not so much cute as they were older gentlemen.
My neighbor was in heaven, turns out she loves some old men. I was over at the Bacardi taste table, not just wine, folks, shots, too! Yipee. It takes me about 5 minutes longer than the average person to down a shot, I just cannot do them quick enough and if I do, it's a night in the bathroom for me.
While I was sipping a shot, neighbor decided to agree to eat dinner with this random man---whoa, she is so brave! I warned her to be careful and told her to call me once she got back, like the momma, I am.
Once I got back home, I realized it was three minutes before "Being Bobby Brown" and that I had 5 missed calls and 3 text messages from the Groomsman. Big decision here...tick tock, tick tock, what to do?
Since I knew what he wanted and was in no state to drive, I put on BRAVO and watched Whitney 'hell to the no' it over Mother's Day. Can I ask a question: Why does Bobby put up with her? I'm loving him, the more and more I watch it.
During a commercial break, I called the Groomsman.
"Are you on your way?", he asked.
"No"
"Hurry and get here, my cousins are waiting for you"---Okay, cousins=family. Oh, hell to the no way. I don't meet family when I'm drunk.
"I wish I could, but I can't. I'm a little drunky"
"Well, call a cab and get over here"---What the...is he kidding me?
We don't live in New York where all you need to do is go outside and hail a cab, like that. We live in car-dominated Texas; where I would have to call a cab and wait for at least twenty minutes. That is apparently too much work for me. He may be used to it, but not me.
"That ain't happening..."
"What? The boys are waiting"
"It's just guys over there with you?" I asked.
"Yes"
"Then it for sure ain't happening, have fun. Call me later"--I am not that girl out on boy's night.
"Well, maybe I'll have my cousin drop me off your place when we are finished. I need some brown sugar"
Ewwwwwwwww.
"That ain't happening. Just call me and we'll make plans to meet up on the weekend."
Was does that mean?
I don't think so, I may have been drunk but come on, how lame, right? Have his cousin drop him off at my place, then what? I take him home in the morning? Plus, can we discuss how he assumes he can come over and get some?
I think this non-car/license deal is really going to get to me. Anyone have some persuasive thoughts, either way, but more along the lines of helping me deal?
This will be a problem and I hate to let a good thing go, on the fact that he is car-less.
I didn't eat before the tasting of the wine and you know that leads to trouble. There were so many males at the wine tasting. I didn't know what to think: gay, straight, metrosexual, or just loves wine? They were not so much cute as they were older gentlemen.
My neighbor was in heaven, turns out she loves some old men. I was over at the Bacardi taste table, not just wine, folks, shots, too! Yipee. It takes me about 5 minutes longer than the average person to down a shot, I just cannot do them quick enough and if I do, it's a night in the bathroom for me.
While I was sipping a shot, neighbor decided to agree to eat dinner with this random man---whoa, she is so brave! I warned her to be careful and told her to call me once she got back, like the momma, I am.
Once I got back home, I realized it was three minutes before "Being Bobby Brown" and that I had 5 missed calls and 3 text messages from the Groomsman. Big decision here...tick tock, tick tock, what to do?
Since I knew what he wanted and was in no state to drive, I put on BRAVO and watched Whitney 'hell to the no' it over Mother's Day. Can I ask a question: Why does Bobby put up with her? I'm loving him, the more and more I watch it.
During a commercial break, I called the Groomsman.
"Are you on your way?", he asked.
"No"
"Hurry and get here, my cousins are waiting for you"---Okay, cousins=family. Oh, hell to the no way. I don't meet family when I'm drunk.
"I wish I could, but I can't. I'm a little drunky"
"Well, call a cab and get over here"---What the...is he kidding me?
We don't live in New York where all you need to do is go outside and hail a cab, like that. We live in car-dominated Texas; where I would have to call a cab and wait for at least twenty minutes. That is apparently too much work for me. He may be used to it, but not me.
"That ain't happening..."
"What? The boys are waiting"
"It's just guys over there with you?" I asked.
"Yes"
"Then it for sure ain't happening, have fun. Call me later"--I am not that girl out on boy's night.
"Well, maybe I'll have my cousin drop me off your place when we are finished. I need some brown sugar"
Ewwwwwwwww.
"That ain't happening. Just call me and we'll make plans to meet up on the weekend."
Was does that mean?
I don't think so, I may have been drunk but come on, how lame, right? Have his cousin drop him off at my place, then what? I take him home in the morning? Plus, can we discuss how he assumes he can come over and get some?
I think this non-car/license deal is really going to get to me. Anyone have some persuasive thoughts, either way, but more along the lines of helping me deal?
This will be a problem and I hate to let a good thing go, on the fact that he is car-less.
Thursday, July 21
Justjamin
I guess I haven't talked about these two in awhile. In case some people care, here is an update on my so called love life.
Just as I was leaving to go to California, I asked Groomsman if he wanted to tag along. Money is no issue with him, so I didn't feel bad asking him knowing air fare would be through the roof. Well, he didn't make it, for a very good reason which we'll keep to ourselves.
Once I got back to the Big-D, I called him up. We had made *tentative* plans a few days prior over text messages and he agreed to see me the night I flew back in. Well, he must also have a short-term memory because when I called him at the time I was getting in, like I told him I would, he was at a bar. Uhm, hmm. Lucky for him, this bar was two block from my apartment. Unlucky for me, I had to go pick him up...oooh, wait, there is something you should know: He doesn't have a car or a drivers license.
What the...?
Uh-huh. He has a medical condition that doesn't allow him to drive. This may be a permanent situation that I may be having a temporary issue with. It's not that I am shallow, it's that I am old fashioned and sometimes lazy. Every date we have, I have to go pick him up and then drive us to our date location. In case you don't know, gas ain't cheap nowadays. He lives a short ten minutes from me, but still,, can I get an amen, here?
I picked him up at the bar and drove us to Cuba Libre* for dinner. I had the calamari tacos---so yum, I could eat those everyday and I just got off the California Eating Tour. It was a great dinner and I cried. Whoa, not because of him but because he asked me how me and my friend, E knew each other. It's a very sad story and I can usually tell it without shedding tears, but Groomsman was all 21 Questions about the situation. Questions I was not prepared for and/or no one has asked before. I always think it brings you closer once your significant other sees you cry. Plus, it lets you know what kind of caretaker they could be depending on how they handle your tears.
I can say he didn't do such a great job at that. Oh, well.
Saturday, I agreed to meet him for lunch. I was at home, so was he. I had to drive to his apartment to get him and once there, he really wanted to go to Jake's Hamburgers. Ugh. They have the best burgers in town, in my opinion. Problem here was Jake's is 2 blocks from my apartment , so I basically drove back from where I came, ate and drove back to take him home. Do you see the problem?
So far, it's the only problem I have with him. I need to either deal with it or forget it and be that shallow.
Tonight he wants me to meet him and his friends at some restaurant at 8:30. I'm still pondering: 1. I hate eating after 7:30. One thing I learned from that Oprah is eating before 7:30 does wonders. Try it. I'm serious, if I was my ideal weight I could eat anything and everything before 7:30 and not gain an outrageous extra pounds. 2. It kinda bothers me that he wants me to meet him there, why can't I meet him at his place and then we go over there?
More importantly, why is that bothering me?
Then there is Incredible. Obviously, not so incredible anymore but he is still lurking here and there. Bring on the hate mail. I don't care. Seems that me not being available to him for a week sure did effect him. He missed me. No joke, you wouldn't say?
Duh!
Here is where I am spoiled. Incredible lives two blocks away. We walk back and forth to each other's places. He has a car and he brings me food, as in I never have to go anywhere. There have been Sundays where I text him: McDonald's and poof! twenty minutes later he in my apartment with some steaming hot fries.
Since I have been back in town, Incredible has punched it up a notch. A huge notch. So huge in fact, I'm hearing, "I love you" and "girlfriend"come out of his mouth and he is not referring to the UPN show (which is so good, BTW). Today, he is in Philadelphia and he is calling me at decent (daylight) hours and not that shady 2AM bullshit time of, it's really 3AM where he is and he just got home from the bar. Plus, when I put us on a break I never said those above things bothered me, so...huh.
Someone asked me what I was going to do about it. Well, nothing. Incredible is no longer my boyfriend and Groomsman is not my boyfriend and we have not had an exclusivity talk, yet. So, each their own, right?
*Just a note, I haven't stopped my Eating tour, obviously. I need someone to come force me into a grocery store, really, seriously, please!
Just as I was leaving to go to California, I asked Groomsman if he wanted to tag along. Money is no issue with him, so I didn't feel bad asking him knowing air fare would be through the roof. Well, he didn't make it, for a very good reason which we'll keep to ourselves.
Once I got back to the Big-D, I called him up. We had made *tentative* plans a few days prior over text messages and he agreed to see me the night I flew back in. Well, he must also have a short-term memory because when I called him at the time I was getting in, like I told him I would, he was at a bar. Uhm, hmm. Lucky for him, this bar was two block from my apartment. Unlucky for me, I had to go pick him up...oooh, wait, there is something you should know: He doesn't have a car or a drivers license.
What the...?
Uh-huh. He has a medical condition that doesn't allow him to drive. This may be a permanent situation that I may be having a temporary issue with. It's not that I am shallow, it's that I am old fashioned and sometimes lazy. Every date we have, I have to go pick him up and then drive us to our date location. In case you don't know, gas ain't cheap nowadays. He lives a short ten minutes from me, but still,, can I get an amen, here?
I picked him up at the bar and drove us to Cuba Libre* for dinner. I had the calamari tacos---so yum, I could eat those everyday and I just got off the California Eating Tour. It was a great dinner and I cried. Whoa, not because of him but because he asked me how me and my friend, E knew each other. It's a very sad story and I can usually tell it without shedding tears, but Groomsman was all 21 Questions about the situation. Questions I was not prepared for and/or no one has asked before. I always think it brings you closer once your significant other sees you cry. Plus, it lets you know what kind of caretaker they could be depending on how they handle your tears.
I can say he didn't do such a great job at that. Oh, well.
Saturday, I agreed to meet him for lunch. I was at home, so was he. I had to drive to his apartment to get him and once there, he really wanted to go to Jake's Hamburgers. Ugh. They have the best burgers in town, in my opinion. Problem here was Jake's is 2 blocks from my apartment , so I basically drove back from where I came, ate and drove back to take him home. Do you see the problem?
So far, it's the only problem I have with him. I need to either deal with it or forget it and be that shallow.
Tonight he wants me to meet him and his friends at some restaurant at 8:30. I'm still pondering: 1. I hate eating after 7:30. One thing I learned from that Oprah is eating before 7:30 does wonders. Try it. I'm serious, if I was my ideal weight I could eat anything and everything before 7:30 and not gain an outrageous extra pounds. 2. It kinda bothers me that he wants me to meet him there, why can't I meet him at his place and then we go over there?
More importantly, why is that bothering me?
Then there is Incredible. Obviously, not so incredible anymore but he is still lurking here and there. Bring on the hate mail. I don't care. Seems that me not being available to him for a week sure did effect him. He missed me. No joke, you wouldn't say?
Duh!
Here is where I am spoiled. Incredible lives two blocks away. We walk back and forth to each other's places. He has a car and he brings me food, as in I never have to go anywhere. There have been Sundays where I text him: McDonald's and poof! twenty minutes later he in my apartment with some steaming hot fries.
Since I have been back in town, Incredible has punched it up a notch. A huge notch. So huge in fact, I'm hearing, "I love you" and "girlfriend"come out of his mouth and he is not referring to the UPN show (which is so good, BTW). Today, he is in Philadelphia and he is calling me at decent (daylight) hours and not that shady 2AM bullshit time of, it's really 3AM where he is and he just got home from the bar. Plus, when I put us on a break I never said those above things bothered me, so...huh.
Someone asked me what I was going to do about it. Well, nothing. Incredible is no longer my boyfriend and Groomsman is not my boyfriend and we have not had an exclusivity talk, yet. So, each their own, right?
*Just a note, I haven't stopped my Eating tour, obviously. I need someone to come force me into a grocery store, really, seriously, please!
Wednesday, July 20
Call Me the Moving Expert
Today I made history. Today I agreed to renew my lease with my apartment for another year. A whole 'nother year, can you believe it?
For those of you that are going 'huh?'; let me tell you I have never lived anywhere on my own for more than a year; sometimes less.
You see, I was raised an Air Force brat which I think directly affects my living situation as an adult (hmm and maybe other A.D.D issues in my life). You see, ever since my mom left me in Texas. Oh I say 'left' like she abandoned me, which could be the case since we all know I left UT and moved back home for her, then a year later; for her to pack up and leave the state entirely, but I was not going through any divorces. Aw-yeah I have issues. So, what?
My mom left me the family house. A 4-bedroom, 2.5 bath, two-story house which was 6 years old. I hated it. A house, Golightly, are you crazy? Yes, I realize many people would love to be in that situation; not I. I found a very tiny one bedroom apartment as fast as I could. I cannot remember what it was, I think I just wanted a place to call my own--that was more along my living size. Seriously, I would come home and lock myself up in the master bedroom and ignore the rest of the house every night. It was not as great as you would think.
I moved. Since I acted rather quickly and didn't really do the apartment hunt deal, I ended up in a lease that I wanted out of in the first three months. Being a poor college student, I couldn't just break lease and move, I had to wait it out. I did. Then I moved to the best apartments in town, in my opinion. I think if I actually enjoyed living in San Antonio, I would still be living there. What made them so great? Free house cleaning, once a month.
I started hating my job and decided it was time to move to make a grand gesture to get out of the situation I was in: horrible sales job, horrible ex boyfriend that wouldn't leave me alone, and horrible thoughts about the city I did live in. The best thing I could do for myself and for my friends, so that they didn't have to hear me complain was move to Dallas. Yeehaw.
The first apartment (loft) I lived in was downtown. I thought I was too cool, well so did the apartment. There was leak from one of the exposed pipes on the ceiling in my bedroom. It was like Chinese water torture. To fix the leak, the entire building's water would have to have been turned off. This was a problem since we shared the building with restaurants--who apparently could not deal with not having water. So, the leasing office offered to move me into another unit or I would have to deal with the leak for awhile, who knew how long for. I didn't like the other loft they were offering, so I just moved into a different building that they owned in Uptown, after living at the loft for 2 weeks.
Apartment number 2 was huge! 980 square feet which included hardwood floors in the kitchen and bathroom, a stove top island in the kitchen, a separate study, and a poolside view. I got it cheap because of my situation and it was a true uptown Dallas steal, but y'all know me and I found a problem: No pets allowed. I wanted a dog bad, so I got a dog. Wants come first in my book.
With that, I had to move, again. I was at that address not even a month.
Apartment number 3 was in Addison. Since I lived there for 10 months, I feel that I can say this: I hate Addison. Hate it. I hated living there so much it was driving me crazy, it was worse than San Antonio, in my opinion. The rent was cheap, true and there is a lot to do, if you like to eat. I like to eat, but how many chain restaurants can you fit on one street? Apparently, all of them. This is not a knock down to anyone who does live in Addison, that place just wasn't my style. Unfortunately I had to live there, to figure that out. The only plus was that I lived 5 minutes from my office. So mornings consisted of me getting ready and to the office in 15 minutes, total. If needed. You know what I mean.
Plus, I did all my partying in Uptown. Which meant that each night after the bar, I had a twenty minute drive on my hands to get back to my own bed.
I don't know about you, but I'd rather live where I play, not where I work. And I'm a true city gal.
So, I moved back to Uptown. That brings us to, yes, apartment number 4, where I am currently. Do I love it? Uhm, there is another apartment community I do have my eye on though--hee hee. I like my place, really I do, but I think it has more to do with what I pay in rent for what I get. It's a good deal. In renewing my lease, my rent only went up $8. Plus, I am within walking distance to most of my bars and restaurants I enjoy.
No need to update your address books my friends, I'm here to stay for at least another year. Well, unless that Air Force brat syndrome condures up and I break a lease.
For those of you that are going 'huh?'; let me tell you I have never lived anywhere on my own for more than a year; sometimes less.
You see, I was raised an Air Force brat which I think directly affects my living situation as an adult (hmm and maybe other A.D.D issues in my life). You see, ever since my mom left me in Texas. Oh I say 'left' like she abandoned me, which could be the case since we all know I left UT and moved back home for her, then a year later; for her to pack up and leave the state entirely, but I was not going through any divorces. Aw-yeah I have issues. So, what?
My mom left me the family house. A 4-bedroom, 2.5 bath, two-story house which was 6 years old. I hated it. A house, Golightly, are you crazy? Yes, I realize many people would love to be in that situation; not I. I found a very tiny one bedroom apartment as fast as I could. I cannot remember what it was, I think I just wanted a place to call my own--that was more along my living size. Seriously, I would come home and lock myself up in the master bedroom and ignore the rest of the house every night. It was not as great as you would think.
I moved. Since I acted rather quickly and didn't really do the apartment hunt deal, I ended up in a lease that I wanted out of in the first three months. Being a poor college student, I couldn't just break lease and move, I had to wait it out. I did. Then I moved to the best apartments in town, in my opinion. I think if I actually enjoyed living in San Antonio, I would still be living there. What made them so great? Free house cleaning, once a month.
I started hating my job and decided it was time to move to make a grand gesture to get out of the situation I was in: horrible sales job, horrible ex boyfriend that wouldn't leave me alone, and horrible thoughts about the city I did live in. The best thing I could do for myself and for my friends, so that they didn't have to hear me complain was move to Dallas. Yeehaw.
The first apartment (loft) I lived in was downtown. I thought I was too cool, well so did the apartment. There was leak from one of the exposed pipes on the ceiling in my bedroom. It was like Chinese water torture. To fix the leak, the entire building's water would have to have been turned off. This was a problem since we shared the building with restaurants--who apparently could not deal with not having water. So, the leasing office offered to move me into another unit or I would have to deal with the leak for awhile, who knew how long for. I didn't like the other loft they were offering, so I just moved into a different building that they owned in Uptown, after living at the loft for 2 weeks.
Apartment number 2 was huge! 980 square feet which included hardwood floors in the kitchen and bathroom, a stove top island in the kitchen, a separate study, and a poolside view. I got it cheap because of my situation and it was a true uptown Dallas steal, but y'all know me and I found a problem: No pets allowed. I wanted a dog bad, so I got a dog. Wants come first in my book.
With that, I had to move, again. I was at that address not even a month.
Apartment number 3 was in Addison. Since I lived there for 10 months, I feel that I can say this: I hate Addison. Hate it. I hated living there so much it was driving me crazy, it was worse than San Antonio, in my opinion. The rent was cheap, true and there is a lot to do, if you like to eat. I like to eat, but how many chain restaurants can you fit on one street? Apparently, all of them. This is not a knock down to anyone who does live in Addison, that place just wasn't my style. Unfortunately I had to live there, to figure that out. The only plus was that I lived 5 minutes from my office. So mornings consisted of me getting ready and to the office in 15 minutes, total. If needed. You know what I mean.
Plus, I did all my partying in Uptown. Which meant that each night after the bar, I had a twenty minute drive on my hands to get back to my own bed.
I don't know about you, but I'd rather live where I play, not where I work. And I'm a true city gal.
So, I moved back to Uptown. That brings us to, yes, apartment number 4, where I am currently. Do I love it? Uhm, there is another apartment community I do have my eye on though--hee hee. I like my place, really I do, but I think it has more to do with what I pay in rent for what I get. It's a good deal. In renewing my lease, my rent only went up $8. Plus, I am within walking distance to most of my bars and restaurants I enjoy.
No need to update your address books my friends, I'm here to stay for at least another year. Well, unless that Air Force brat syndrome condures up and I break a lease.
I'm Pouring Chandon Because I Got it Going On
Back in Sacramento, we kicked back and slowed it down a bit. When I say slowed it down a bit, I mean we didn't eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner out like Kings.
We did eat at a few cute places:
Frank Fats
California Cafe. This was my favorite restaurant out of the whole trip. I had the SPICY CHICKEN SANDWICH with mango relish, pepper jack cheese, watercress, and garlic steak fries. If you live near a location, I highly recommend this place. Fun atmosphere, great food, and delicious drinks.
Scott's
La Bou
The next day we decided to take a drive to the wine country. We stopped at a strawberry stand at a farm, where the air was so sweet, I could've taken a nap in the fields. I'm not a big farm girl but I really enjoyed the scenery and smells of the northern California lands. We randomly chose a vineyard to visit. Note, I said random and we still ended up at the high end winery of Chandon.
Drunk?!? Hell, yeah. If you have a chance to visit any vineyards, I would say to go during a low traffic time like we did. It was the middle of the day in the middle of the week. No one was there. I think there was a total of 6 to 8 other visitors. We took the tasting and winery tour. Our tour guide was very generous with the tastings. Very Generous. I fell in love with him quickly. Our group was so much fun as well. I'm sure the tour guide was sick and tired of hearing, "If someone orders merlot, I'm leaving". We couldn't help it. We were at a winery, hee hee.
Since I swallow and don't spit, I was feeling good by the end of that hour. Since E and I both didn't feel like dropping $100 on food, we waited it out, hit up McDonald's on the way back and cooked dinner--which would be my last meal in California.
You know I couldn't go this long without sharing a recipe:
Pancetta Stuffed Chicken w/ Creamy Sun-dried Tomato Sauce
Chicken breast
Lemon juice
Salt and Pepper
Olive Oil
About 4 tablespoons of chopped Pancetta
4 Monterey Jack cheese slices
One white onion chopped
Fresh chopped Basil
About 3 tablespoons of bottled sun dried tomatoes in oil
1/4 cup heavy whipping cream
1/2 stick of butter
Saute onions, in very little olive oil until transparent. Add chopped pancetta, until warmed up and mixed in with onions.
Cut a small opening in the fattest part of a chicken breast. Stuff with onion/pancetta mixture. Sprinkle chicken w/ salt and pepper to taste.
In same pan, saute chicken on both sides, about 3 minutes each. Place chickens in a baking dish. Set oven to 375 degrees. Bake chicken for about half an hour.
While chicken is baking, prepare sauce.
In a very big saucepan, melt butter just until it starts to froth. Add basil and tomatoes. When all incorporated, add whipping cream. Keep stirring during a low boil. Add lemon juice for taste.
Add a slice of cheese to top each chicken during the last 5 minutes of baking.
Remove chicken, place on your plate and drizzle with sauce.
Enjoy!
I hope that works. We kept on drinking the wine we picked up from Chandon during this cooking, so who knows...
and we are through with my California trip.
We did eat at a few cute places:
Frank Fats
California Cafe. This was my favorite restaurant out of the whole trip. I had the SPICY CHICKEN SANDWICH with mango relish, pepper jack cheese, watercress, and garlic steak fries. If you live near a location, I highly recommend this place. Fun atmosphere, great food, and delicious drinks.
Scott's
La Bou
The next day we decided to take a drive to the wine country. We stopped at a strawberry stand at a farm, where the air was so sweet, I could've taken a nap in the fields. I'm not a big farm girl but I really enjoyed the scenery and smells of the northern California lands. We randomly chose a vineyard to visit. Note, I said random and we still ended up at the high end winery of Chandon.
Drunk?!? Hell, yeah. If you have a chance to visit any vineyards, I would say to go during a low traffic time like we did. It was the middle of the day in the middle of the week. No one was there. I think there was a total of 6 to 8 other visitors. We took the tasting and winery tour. Our tour guide was very generous with the tastings. Very Generous. I fell in love with him quickly. Our group was so much fun as well. I'm sure the tour guide was sick and tired of hearing, "If someone orders merlot, I'm leaving". We couldn't help it. We were at a winery, hee hee.
Since I swallow and don't spit, I was feeling good by the end of that hour. Since E and I both didn't feel like dropping $100 on food, we waited it out, hit up McDonald's on the way back and cooked dinner--which would be my last meal in California.
You know I couldn't go this long without sharing a recipe:
Pancetta Stuffed Chicken w/ Creamy Sun-dried Tomato Sauce
Chicken breast
Lemon juice
Salt and Pepper
Olive Oil
About 4 tablespoons of chopped Pancetta
4 Monterey Jack cheese slices
One white onion chopped
Fresh chopped Basil
About 3 tablespoons of bottled sun dried tomatoes in oil
1/4 cup heavy whipping cream
1/2 stick of butter
Saute onions, in very little olive oil until transparent. Add chopped pancetta, until warmed up and mixed in with onions.
Cut a small opening in the fattest part of a chicken breast. Stuff with onion/pancetta mixture. Sprinkle chicken w/ salt and pepper to taste.
In same pan, saute chicken on both sides, about 3 minutes each. Place chickens in a baking dish. Set oven to 375 degrees. Bake chicken for about half an hour.
While chicken is baking, prepare sauce.
In a very big saucepan, melt butter just until it starts to froth. Add basil and tomatoes. When all incorporated, add whipping cream. Keep stirring during a low boil. Add lemon juice for taste.
Add a slice of cheese to top each chicken during the last 5 minutes of baking.
Remove chicken, place on your plate and drizzle with sauce.
Enjoy!
I hope that works. We kept on drinking the wine we picked up from Chandon during this cooking, so who knows...
and we are through with my California trip.
You're It!
I was tagged by Pecos Girl, now I'm tagging all of you.
10 years ago: I was working at HEB--my very first job. I met my good friend, SK, we would get caught talking too much while on shift and would be separated like it was Kindegarten. We've been best friends since.
5 years ago: I was enrolling at UTSA. Ugh. I had just left UT-Austin in wake of my parent's divorce. If I could do it again: I would've stayed at UT. Each time I see a "Texas-Ex" bumper sticker, I cringe in regret.
1 year ago: I was nervous about being a bridesmaid in AP's wedding. I had no date, didn't know if I could fit into the dress, didn't know if I was being the dutiful maid I should be, etc. It was crazy.
Yesterday: Read what seemed to be a 1,000 emails. Got back to speed from being on vacation for over a week. Spent half the day, re-telling stories to co-workers; the other half trying to stay awake at my desk.
Today: Work, this list, writing and resurrecting my own blog posts so my blog doesn't 'die'.
Tomorrow: I cannot think that far ahead, except...I'm working and I need to go grocery shopping.
5 snacks I enjoy: I don't snack, but if I do, it's string cheese. Yummy.
5 bands that I know the lyrics of MOST of their songs: Jennifer Lopez, Madonna, Jay-Z, Beyonce (Destiny's Child), and Eminem.
5 things I would do with $100,000,000: pay off my debt and the debt of family, take my closest friends and family on a European vacation, buy a house, and shop!!
5 locations I'd like to run away to: St. Thomas, Paris, Greece, Atlanta, and Chicago
5 bad habits I have: I curse, I can never say 'no', I pay bills a week too late--sometimes more, I lose my debit card more often than I should (I'm sure my bank loves me), and I think too much about what other people think
5 things I like doing: Eating. Dancing. Reading magazines, books or blogs. Watching mindless TV. Doing absolutely nothing.
5 things I would never wear: Mismatched denim. Jeans tucked into boots. Diamond earrings. Prairie skirts. Chokers.
5 TV shows I like: Will and Grace. Being Bobby Brown. 6 Feet Under. Entourage. The Comeback. (Yeah, I watch way too much HBO, but I pay for it so I feel the need to watch it for all its worth)
5 movies I like: Breakfast at Tiffany's. Vanilla Sky. Angel Eyes. The Cooler. Closer.
5 famous people I'd like to meet: Jennifer Lopez. Bill Clinton. Nicole Ritchie. Jay-Z. Oprah (because we need to talk)
5 biggest joys at the moment: Summer vacation. Marble Slab ice cream or Sonic trips at dusk. Friends. Warm summer winds or rain. Being back home in my own bed.
5 favorite toys: My new camera phone. Scrabble. Mini Slinkys. Triple-barrel curling iron--used as a curling iron, it's so much fun. (I really don't have any fun toys.)
10 years ago: I was working at HEB--my very first job. I met my good friend, SK, we would get caught talking too much while on shift and would be separated like it was Kindegarten. We've been best friends since.
5 years ago: I was enrolling at UTSA. Ugh. I had just left UT-Austin in wake of my parent's divorce. If I could do it again: I would've stayed at UT. Each time I see a "Texas-Ex" bumper sticker, I cringe in regret.
1 year ago: I was nervous about being a bridesmaid in AP's wedding. I had no date, didn't know if I could fit into the dress, didn't know if I was being the dutiful maid I should be, etc. It was crazy.
Yesterday: Read what seemed to be a 1,000 emails. Got back to speed from being on vacation for over a week. Spent half the day, re-telling stories to co-workers; the other half trying to stay awake at my desk.
Today: Work, this list, writing and resurrecting my own blog posts so my blog doesn't 'die'.
Tomorrow: I cannot think that far ahead, except...I'm working and I need to go grocery shopping.
5 snacks I enjoy: I don't snack, but if I do, it's string cheese. Yummy.
5 bands that I know the lyrics of MOST of their songs: Jennifer Lopez, Madonna, Jay-Z, Beyonce (Destiny's Child), and Eminem.
5 things I would do with $100,000,000: pay off my debt and the debt of family, take my closest friends and family on a European vacation, buy a house, and shop!!
5 locations I'd like to run away to: St. Thomas, Paris, Greece, Atlanta, and Chicago
5 bad habits I have: I curse, I can never say 'no', I pay bills a week too late--sometimes more, I lose my debit card more often than I should (I'm sure my bank loves me), and I think too much about what other people think
5 things I like doing: Eating. Dancing. Reading magazines, books or blogs. Watching mindless TV. Doing absolutely nothing.
5 things I would never wear: Mismatched denim. Jeans tucked into boots. Diamond earrings. Prairie skirts. Chokers.
5 TV shows I like: Will and Grace. Being Bobby Brown. 6 Feet Under. Entourage. The Comeback. (Yeah, I watch way too much HBO, but I pay for it so I feel the need to watch it for all its worth)
5 movies I like: Breakfast at Tiffany's. Vanilla Sky. Angel Eyes. The Cooler. Closer.
5 famous people I'd like to meet: Jennifer Lopez. Bill Clinton. Nicole Ritchie. Jay-Z. Oprah (because we need to talk)
5 biggest joys at the moment: Summer vacation. Marble Slab ice cream or Sonic trips at dusk. Friends. Warm summer winds or rain. Being back home in my own bed.
5 favorite toys: My new camera phone. Scrabble. Mini Slinkys. Triple-barrel curling iron--used as a curling iron, it's so much fun. (I really don't have any fun toys.)
Tuesday, July 19
Jackass C-List Celebrity
We arrived in beautiful Sacramento. I'm a big city gal, but the ease and quietness of Sacramento, really pulled me in. I used to live there many years ago, so there is nothing new to really report...except, maybe some governator fact. Did you know that there is no Governor's Mansion? Ahnold and the kiddos live at the local Hyatt hotel. Why, they don't have a house is beyond me. A long, long time ago, the city made the Governor's mansion into a museum. Hence, why there is no mansion.
There is not much to do in Sacramento. The first night my friend, E's parents took us to dinner at 33rd Street Bistro.
(I'm telling you, my stomach never knew hunger or emptiness while I was on vacation) Once we made it back to her house, her boyfriend asked us what we were going to do for the rest of the week.
Very good question...we thought about it. And thought about it. Then Monday, he came up with a great idea: We should go to L.A.
Hella-yeah!
Now, this is where the story gets very interesting, I promise! Plus, there will only be two more restaurant links out of it as well...
E's boyfriend grew up with the Sacramento King's owner's daughter; whom we will call Too-Good (you'll soon find out why). Too-Good's dad now owns a private jet service for the sports industry. E's boyfriend made the arrangement so that we could hop on a flight.
Probably the first and last time I will fly on a private jet. All I have to say is if you have a chance to do so, hop on one. We're talking leather seats. Huge, wide, swivel leather seats. Open bar. Shower in the bathroom; which is bigger than my kitchen. Did I say, open bar? Oh and the dumb as dumb stewardess', but we won't go there because you can hardly complain about the service when the ticket was free and there is an open bar.
While on the plane, my friend E warned me that Too-Good is married to an actor. What?!?! She turned to me and told me not to lose my cool and/or ask too many questions when we meet him. Yeah, I'm not five years old but she was right to warn me. At this point, I'm thinking we are about to meet up with some real celebrity and I cannot wait to get off the plane.
Too-Good meets us at the airport. For some celebrity's wife, she looked pretty normal. I know, I know celebs are not Martians. Well, some of them aren't. She was totally laid back and cool. She drove us around and showed us some hot spots...in her badass Rover. That's what she called her car, not me. Then she took us to her house.
Whoa.
Her mother in law, whom we will get to in a bit, welcomed us and gave us a tour and showed us to our guest room. How can I explain this woman and still be nice and grateful that we stayed at their house? Hmm...I don't think I can. She was a straight up Hollywood Bitch. Thinking back on it, I honestly think that I was the first Black person to ever come into close contact with her and much less stay at her son's precious house. She was one of those who speaks loud as if I didn't know the White language.
Too-Good asked where would we like to go eat dinner?
Me, knowing nothing about hot spots to eat except for what is in InStyle, said, "Dolce" and with the snap of a finger and a flip of a phone, Dolce it was.
Ooh, I like Too-Good and if I was smart I would've worked harder to become the next Kato. Word.
Keep in mind, Celebrity Husband has not made his appearance, yet and I am still on pins and needles to find out who he is. I looked for clues allover the house. Is it me, or if you were a celebrity wouldn't you keep pictures of yourself up everywhere in your house?
Once at Dolce and eyes akimbo for Ashton, Celebrity Husband made his debut.
OH. MY. GOD.
Don't get excited, please don't. Celebrity Husband introduced himself to me; "I'm Celebrity Husband and I've been in over 200 films" just like that. Just like that. I texted a friend to double check that, he was way wrong. More like 2 films. Then Celebrity Husband goes on and on about his life, politics, religion, and all the fun topics you like to discuss with someone you just met. All the while, he is sitting there, picking his teeth with a toothpick and surveying the room for Wife #2, while Too-Good tries to excuse his actions. See, they just got married and Celebrity Husband has yet to learn not to let his eyes wander. That's what she said!
For you guys to get a better picture of these two: picture an Eminem wannabe that looks like he came from the Tommy Lee school of Rock and she is the Natalie Portman polite too good to be true girl. No jokes.
Celebrity Husband then tells us that we have to go meet some of his friends at Asia de Cuba. Okeedokeee! Celebrity Husband follows us over to the Mondrian Hotel, where Asia de Cuba is. On the way over, Too-Good went into more explanation/excuses of her husband's behavior. I just rolled my eyes and kept texting all my friends of what was happening.
Asia de Cuba was not that exciting, so I won't bore you with it. Besides, we need to get back to Celebrity Husband's mother aka Hollywood Bitch and what went down the next morning:
Celebrity Husband's mother laid out a nice breakfast spread for us the next morning. If she was not such a meanie, I would not mind having her live with me. I don't know what Too-Good's stance was on having her mother in law living with them. They were newlyweds only married a couple of months. So you know sex on the kitchen counter was out of the question.
I walked into the kitchen, Celebrity Husband's mother asked me if I used the shampoo in the guest bath.
"No, I didn't"
Did you wash your hair--she asked.
"No, I didn't"
She then put on the most horrified look on her face. "You didn't!!"; she exclaimed.
"No, I don't need to wash it everyday", she then pulled me aside from the rest of the group.
"Well, uhm, what pillow did you use last night?"
"The one on the bed"
"Yes, but which one?"
OK, Lady, a pillow is a pillow is a pillow! I didn't say that, I just said the one that she left us to sleep on, I guess. She said okay and then let me be. I went back to gobble on the best ever scrambled eggs ever, I doubt she cooked them. Celebrity Husband's mother disappeared.
The group of us went out onto the patio to discuss where Too-Good was taking us, to treat us to pedicures. Word. I tell you she was just too freaking good, I wanted to marry her. Then, with two pillows in each hand, Celebrity Husband's mother made a return. This time she questioned me in front of everyone. As if the first time was not bad enough.
"Can I ask a question?" she started, oh boy, I knew this would be trouble, "Do you generally grease your hair?"
OH MY GOD.
"Yes" Let us all note my hair is in a ponytail covered by a badass scarf. AND I'm being nice because she fed us and housed us and her daughter in law is about to buy us pedicures. Or you know this bitch would have gotten it already.
"Tezuma, which pillow did you use?"---Hold up, we all know my name is not Tezuma but I think she did that on purpose and pulled the only African sounding name she could think of out of her Hollywood Bitch ass.
"I used that one" and pointed to a pillow. She sighed and turned back around.
OK. What do we assume here? What was up with the pillows? I could only guess that she thought I was going to leave grease marks on her precious pillows, that only get hand washed in Evian water, with my Black person gheri curl grease.
The pedicure was great and I was sad to leave L.A. and Too-Good. I was happy to get back on that jet plane and leave Celebrity Husband, his house, and his mother.
There is not much to do in Sacramento. The first night my friend, E's parents took us to dinner at 33rd Street Bistro.
(I'm telling you, my stomach never knew hunger or emptiness while I was on vacation) Once we made it back to her house, her boyfriend asked us what we were going to do for the rest of the week.
Very good question...we thought about it. And thought about it. Then Monday, he came up with a great idea: We should go to L.A.
Hella-yeah!
Now, this is where the story gets very interesting, I promise! Plus, there will only be two more restaurant links out of it as well...
E's boyfriend grew up with the Sacramento King's owner's daughter; whom we will call Too-Good (you'll soon find out why). Too-Good's dad now owns a private jet service for the sports industry. E's boyfriend made the arrangement so that we could hop on a flight.
Probably the first and last time I will fly on a private jet. All I have to say is if you have a chance to do so, hop on one. We're talking leather seats. Huge, wide, swivel leather seats. Open bar. Shower in the bathroom; which is bigger than my kitchen. Did I say, open bar? Oh and the dumb as dumb stewardess', but we won't go there because you can hardly complain about the service when the ticket was free and there is an open bar.
While on the plane, my friend E warned me that Too-Good is married to an actor. What?!?! She turned to me and told me not to lose my cool and/or ask too many questions when we meet him. Yeah, I'm not five years old but she was right to warn me. At this point, I'm thinking we are about to meet up with some real celebrity and I cannot wait to get off the plane.
Too-Good meets us at the airport. For some celebrity's wife, she looked pretty normal. I know, I know celebs are not Martians. Well, some of them aren't. She was totally laid back and cool. She drove us around and showed us some hot spots...in her badass Rover. That's what she called her car, not me. Then she took us to her house.
Whoa.
Her mother in law, whom we will get to in a bit, welcomed us and gave us a tour and showed us to our guest room. How can I explain this woman and still be nice and grateful that we stayed at their house? Hmm...I don't think I can. She was a straight up Hollywood Bitch. Thinking back on it, I honestly think that I was the first Black person to ever come into close contact with her and much less stay at her son's precious house. She was one of those who speaks loud as if I didn't know the White language.
Too-Good asked where would we like to go eat dinner?
Me, knowing nothing about hot spots to eat except for what is in InStyle, said, "Dolce" and with the snap of a finger and a flip of a phone, Dolce it was.
Ooh, I like Too-Good and if I was smart I would've worked harder to become the next Kato. Word.
Keep in mind, Celebrity Husband has not made his appearance, yet and I am still on pins and needles to find out who he is. I looked for clues allover the house. Is it me, or if you were a celebrity wouldn't you keep pictures of yourself up everywhere in your house?
Once at Dolce and eyes akimbo for Ashton, Celebrity Husband made his debut.
OH. MY. GOD.
Don't get excited, please don't. Celebrity Husband introduced himself to me; "I'm Celebrity Husband and I've been in over 200 films" just like that. Just like that. I texted a friend to double check that, he was way wrong. More like 2 films. Then Celebrity Husband goes on and on about his life, politics, religion, and all the fun topics you like to discuss with someone you just met. All the while, he is sitting there, picking his teeth with a toothpick and surveying the room for Wife #2, while Too-Good tries to excuse his actions. See, they just got married and Celebrity Husband has yet to learn not to let his eyes wander. That's what she said!
For you guys to get a better picture of these two: picture an Eminem wannabe that looks like he came from the Tommy Lee school of Rock and she is the Natalie Portman polite too good to be true girl. No jokes.
Celebrity Husband then tells us that we have to go meet some of his friends at Asia de Cuba. Okeedokeee! Celebrity Husband follows us over to the Mondrian Hotel, where Asia de Cuba is. On the way over, Too-Good went into more explanation/excuses of her husband's behavior. I just rolled my eyes and kept texting all my friends of what was happening.
Asia de Cuba was not that exciting, so I won't bore you with it. Besides, we need to get back to Celebrity Husband's mother aka Hollywood Bitch and what went down the next morning:
Celebrity Husband's mother laid out a nice breakfast spread for us the next morning. If she was not such a meanie, I would not mind having her live with me. I don't know what Too-Good's stance was on having her mother in law living with them. They were newlyweds only married a couple of months. So you know sex on the kitchen counter was out of the question.
I walked into the kitchen, Celebrity Husband's mother asked me if I used the shampoo in the guest bath.
"No, I didn't"
Did you wash your hair--she asked.
"No, I didn't"
She then put on the most horrified look on her face. "You didn't!!"; she exclaimed.
"No, I don't need to wash it everyday", she then pulled me aside from the rest of the group.
"Well, uhm, what pillow did you use last night?"
"The one on the bed"
"Yes, but which one?"
OK, Lady, a pillow is a pillow is a pillow! I didn't say that, I just said the one that she left us to sleep on, I guess. She said okay and then let me be. I went back to gobble on the best ever scrambled eggs ever, I doubt she cooked them. Celebrity Husband's mother disappeared.
The group of us went out onto the patio to discuss where Too-Good was taking us, to treat us to pedicures. Word. I tell you she was just too freaking good, I wanted to marry her. Then, with two pillows in each hand, Celebrity Husband's mother made a return. This time she questioned me in front of everyone. As if the first time was not bad enough.
"Can I ask a question?" she started, oh boy, I knew this would be trouble, "Do you generally grease your hair?"
OH MY GOD.
"Yes" Let us all note my hair is in a ponytail covered by a badass scarf. AND I'm being nice because she fed us and housed us and her daughter in law is about to buy us pedicures. Or you know this bitch would have gotten it already.
"Tezuma, which pillow did you use?"---Hold up, we all know my name is not Tezuma but I think she did that on purpose and pulled the only African sounding name she could think of out of her Hollywood Bitch ass.
"I used that one" and pointed to a pillow. She sighed and turned back around.
OK. What do we assume here? What was up with the pillows? I could only guess that she thought I was going to leave grease marks on her precious pillows, that only get hand washed in Evian water, with my Black person gheri curl grease.
The pedicure was great and I was sad to leave L.A. and Too-Good. I was happy to get back on that jet plane and leave Celebrity Husband, his house, and his mother.
Guess Who's Back!
I'm back! When I said "See you in a week", I guess I should've said see you in 'a week and a few days' because I was so missed! Hee hee--thanks for all the "where have you been"? notes and emails. I feel so loved, ha ha. Yes, I almost stayed in California. California is the best state ever, well last week it was, minus the man using the baby as a shield during a police shoot out. I lived the life of a Diva Queen--Whitney had nothing on me. If she saw me, I would have told her "Wish you could just be me huh? Huh?"
My vacation was a tour, literally. The stops included in order: San Francisco, Sacramento, Los Angeles, Sacramento, Sonoma, Sacramento, and back to San Francisco.
Since I spent all that time there and I want to share every last exciting detail with you, I'm going to have to break it up. Here we go:
Now you know in true form, the London bombing just had to happen twenty minutes before I crossed the TSA lines at the airport. Just my drama luck. Yes, I was specially screened. There were no real threats to airlines but since the bombings happened right as I got my boarding pass, TSA took extra precaution meaning I was felt up and down by some lucky woman.
The Eating Tour of California.
That 7lbs that I lost at Boot Camp? They came back and brought some friends with them. I ate like a King, my stomach never knew what it was like to be empty. Not one growl.
I never made it to Home, but I did make to Citizen Cupcake. If I had read the location carefully on their website, I would've known that they were located inside the Virgin Megastore instead of running up and down the street thinking that the address didn't exist. Here are a list of places, I ate at. I think this is the best way since there were so many. In order they are:
Mocca
Ponzu
North Beach Restaurant
--where the older Italian waiters fell in love with us and gave us $99 bottles of wine. My take on it is they just wanted us drunk so they could have their way with us--which meant endless hours of flirting. It worked.
Calzone's
After leaving North Beach Restaurant, for what seemed hours--we realized that it was only 10:00. I was still on Texas time so it seemed midnight. Not wanting to call it a night, we stopped in for coffee and dessert. Ha ha ha. There was no coffee---only more wine and drinks. And Amanda Peet! Yes, Bushy Brows was there keeping her bartender friend company. We were the only people at the bar. Since one of the girls (and my new friend) with us is from Minneapolis (who I will now refer to as Fargo. Seriously--you know why); people instantly feel in love with her (including the Italian waiters. I wish I could say they were flirting with me, but, it was all about her) because of her unique Fargo accent. It was crazy people would ask her to say something, just so they could hear it in her accent. You know that scene in "Love, Actually":"What's this?" American girls pointing to a bottle. "Bottle" British guy in British accent.
That was us, everywhere we went.
Back to the bar. Bartender fell in love with Fargo. We got to hang out a bit with him and Bushy Brow Peet. She was cool, I guess, especially since I never saw a bill from that place. Thanks, Peet or maybe it's Thanks to the Bartender?!?!
Scoma's
Don't think of this as a recommendation, I would never eat there again. The wait was forever and a day and the food was eh.
We also ate at Max's, Pinecrest Deli, and one of the many, many, many Starbuck's. Seriously, I never seen so many Starbucks in my life. You know it's crazy when there are 2 Starbucks (visibly) across the street from one another.
That was it for the city. We then packed up, said goodbye to Fargo, and moved on to Sacramento...
My vacation was a tour, literally. The stops included in order: San Francisco, Sacramento, Los Angeles, Sacramento, Sonoma, Sacramento, and back to San Francisco.
Since I spent all that time there and I want to share every last exciting detail with you, I'm going to have to break it up. Here we go:
Now you know in true form, the London bombing just had to happen twenty minutes before I crossed the TSA lines at the airport. Just my drama luck. Yes, I was specially screened. There were no real threats to airlines but since the bombings happened right as I got my boarding pass, TSA took extra precaution meaning I was felt up and down by some lucky woman.
The Eating Tour of California.
That 7lbs that I lost at Boot Camp? They came back and brought some friends with them. I ate like a King, my stomach never knew what it was like to be empty. Not one growl.
I never made it to Home, but I did make to Citizen Cupcake. If I had read the location carefully on their website, I would've known that they were located inside the Virgin Megastore instead of running up and down the street thinking that the address didn't exist. Here are a list of places, I ate at. I think this is the best way since there were so many. In order they are:
Mocca
Ponzu
North Beach Restaurant
--where the older Italian waiters fell in love with us and gave us $99 bottles of wine. My take on it is they just wanted us drunk so they could have their way with us--which meant endless hours of flirting. It worked.
Calzone's
After leaving North Beach Restaurant, for what seemed hours--we realized that it was only 10:00. I was still on Texas time so it seemed midnight. Not wanting to call it a night, we stopped in for coffee and dessert. Ha ha ha. There was no coffee---only more wine and drinks. And Amanda Peet! Yes, Bushy Brows was there keeping her bartender friend company. We were the only people at the bar. Since one of the girls (and my new friend) with us is from Minneapolis (who I will now refer to as Fargo. Seriously--you know why); people instantly feel in love with her (including the Italian waiters. I wish I could say they were flirting with me, but, it was all about her) because of her unique Fargo accent. It was crazy people would ask her to say something, just so they could hear it in her accent. You know that scene in "Love, Actually":"What's this?" American girls pointing to a bottle. "Bottle" British guy in British accent.
That was us, everywhere we went.
Back to the bar. Bartender fell in love with Fargo. We got to hang out a bit with him and Bushy Brow Peet. She was cool, I guess, especially since I never saw a bill from that place. Thanks, Peet or maybe it's Thanks to the Bartender?!?!
Scoma's
Don't think of this as a recommendation, I would never eat there again. The wait was forever and a day and the food was eh.
We also ate at Max's, Pinecrest Deli, and one of the many, many, many Starbuck's. Seriously, I never seen so many Starbucks in my life. You know it's crazy when there are 2 Starbucks (visibly) across the street from one another.
That was it for the city. We then packed up, said goodbye to Fargo, and moved on to Sacramento...
Wednesday, July 6
Leaving on a Jet Plane
I'm going to San Francisco! Yahoo! I'm going for work, if you can call it that. I have to do a work meeting that is from 10:00 AM to 3:30 PM...WTF?!?! Who cares? The company is paying for 2 nights in a very grand hotel and all my expenses Thursday through Saturday. Hee--guess I can brush that Media Relations disappointment off my shoulder. Gone! Or it soon will be, once I get on that plane...
I plan on sight seeing the city, solo all day Thursday---scary! I'm brave like that, I think. I will definitely go to Union Square, this you know. I already have a map for shopping. Yes, a map to shop. It is a necessity.
Have you ever started a day of shopping and found yourself to blow your budget all in the first few stores, only to wind up in SAKS where the fucking skirt you been eyeing is on sale--half price?!?! and you have no money left?
You cannot reason taking back the other items bought? See, if you had a map, you'd have hit the SAKS first. I'm just saying, it's happened to me, too too many times.
Then, I will hunt and find Citizen Cupcake because I haven't had a sugar high since the cupcake hour party. Dinner will be at Home. Like a true reality TV addict, I will be back in my hotel for the start of Big Brother and Being Bobby Brown*! Does that last part sound sad? Not so much, I don't want to be wandering the streets at night, alone.
Miss me. I'll be back in a week.
*Don't forget to tune in. Whitney was wearing an afro wig in the previews. So, you know it will be just as good!
I plan on sight seeing the city, solo all day Thursday---scary! I'm brave like that, I think. I will definitely go to Union Square, this you know. I already have a map for shopping. Yes, a map to shop. It is a necessity.
Have you ever started a day of shopping and found yourself to blow your budget all in the first few stores, only to wind up in SAKS where the fucking skirt you been eyeing is on sale--half price?!?! and you have no money left?
You cannot reason taking back the other items bought? See, if you had a map, you'd have hit the SAKS first. I'm just saying, it's happened to me, too too many times.
Then, I will hunt and find Citizen Cupcake because I haven't had a sugar high since the cupcake hour party. Dinner will be at Home. Like a true reality TV addict, I will be back in my hotel for the start of Big Brother and Being Bobby Brown*! Does that last part sound sad? Not so much, I don't want to be wandering the streets at night, alone.
Miss me. I'll be back in a week.
*Don't forget to tune in. Whitney was wearing an afro wig in the previews. So, you know it will be just as good!
And So It Is...
Well, peeps I have some bad news. That Media Relations position went to someone else. Thank goodness it didn't go to Backtyper, then I'd be looking up therapists. It went to someone with a lot more experience, "blah-blah", than me. And he is male.
Ooh--did she just say that? Yes, I did. I'm not one to call out, "Sexist!" at work or when things don't go my way, but I will in this case. You see, I already knew that the department is all male. There are fifteen people in the department. 15. All male. Most of the canidates for the position were also, male. It was my fear going into the interview, that the odds were stacked against me.
Now, the sixteenth person to join the department is also male. And he is from the outside.
Yeah, I'm looking for excuses and another job.
Ooh--did she just say that? Yes, I did. I'm not one to call out, "Sexist!" at work or when things don't go my way, but I will in this case. You see, I already knew that the department is all male. There are fifteen people in the department. 15. All male. Most of the canidates for the position were also, male. It was my fear going into the interview, that the odds were stacked against me.
Now, the sixteenth person to join the department is also male. And he is from the outside.
Yeah, I'm looking for excuses and another job.
Friday, July 1
Hell to the No
You know I watched "Being Bobby Brown" last night. You know this. Two washed up celebs and cameras following their every move. I loved it. So to recap this spectacle:
Whitney acts like she is still the Queen Diva. She don't do autographs, pictures, and she doesn't speak to her fans. She just wants you to "be her" for a minute and understand. Whatev.
Bobby Brown, on the other hand, is in it for the people. He'll sign autographs, take pictures, hang out and forbiddingly dance with the fans--his and hers.
Their children are just some rich BeBe kids. Do you know what I mean when I say BeBe kids, I hope you do. Bobbi Cristina sure has grown up, literally. She's just a big kid who likes to hang with her parents until Whitney told her straight up "Mommy and Daddy are going into the other room to make another baby" and slammed the door in her face. Yes, she did.
That didn't shock me so much, that was just the tip of the iceberg. This woman carried on for the rest of the hour, like the show was called: Whitney: Diva Bitch. Not only is she acting like a diva, she talks like a ghetto superstar. We are so far gone from the Whitney we used to love, this is recovered addict Whitney and she puts up with no one's shit. What was up with the beach towel around her head all the time? Then I nearly lost it when they got ready to hit the town and she dressed up, seriously, like Laura Maron---her Bodyguard character and then on top of that, tells Bobby that's who she looks like. Duh. Then, Bobby (who I now am loving) tells her she looks like Whoppi Goldberg. Ha ha, take that diva.
When it came to their relationship, I always thought it was Whitney (who is older) who was putting up with Bobby's immature shit. Going and coming out of jail. Putting up with all his court appearances and his alleged spousal abuse. Boy, was I wrong. It's Bobby that's putting up with Whitney. Let me tell you, that looks like such a job.
I'd be in jail, too.
Whitney acts like she is still the Queen Diva. She don't do autographs, pictures, and she doesn't speak to her fans. She just wants you to "be her" for a minute and understand. Whatev.
Bobby Brown, on the other hand, is in it for the people. He'll sign autographs, take pictures, hang out and forbiddingly dance with the fans--his and hers.
Their children are just some rich BeBe kids. Do you know what I mean when I say BeBe kids, I hope you do. Bobbi Cristina sure has grown up, literally. She's just a big kid who likes to hang with her parents until Whitney told her straight up "Mommy and Daddy are going into the other room to make another baby" and slammed the door in her face. Yes, she did.
That didn't shock me so much, that was just the tip of the iceberg. This woman carried on for the rest of the hour, like the show was called: Whitney: Diva Bitch. Not only is she acting like a diva, she talks like a ghetto superstar. We are so far gone from the Whitney we used to love, this is recovered addict Whitney and she puts up with no one's shit. What was up with the beach towel around her head all the time? Then I nearly lost it when they got ready to hit the town and she dressed up, seriously, like Laura Maron---her Bodyguard character and then on top of that, tells Bobby that's who she looks like. Duh. Then, Bobby (who I now am loving) tells her she looks like Whoppi Goldberg. Ha ha, take that diva.
When it came to their relationship, I always thought it was Whitney (who is older) who was putting up with Bobby's immature shit. Going and coming out of jail. Putting up with all his court appearances and his alleged spousal abuse. Boy, was I wrong. It's Bobby that's putting up with Whitney. Let me tell you, that looks like such a job.
I'd be in jail, too.
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