outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- abc.com is a liar, and coitus interruptus Charlie Brown was most certainly not on at 9 o'clock on Friday night, no matter how much abc.com persists in saying it was. I suspect it was really and truly on at eight, because by the time Ann and I got back from the party at quarter past nine, there was no Mr. Brown to be foun'. Luckily, we were provided with many more hours of fun by the Pulp Fiction DVD Rob had borrowed from a coworker. It was especially enjoyable because I hadn't seen it since it came out, Ann and Rob had never seen it, and Spooky was a veritable fount of knowledge on the subject. Right down to quoting whole scenes (now we know what the boy does with his free time). I was happy to relax after my afternoon of harried cooking and cleaning. Ahem, "cleaning". Goddamn fool that I am, and knowing that I had little time to accomplish all the random tasks pre-Charlie-viewing, I fucking left my fucking keys at fucking work again. Which, of course, I, again, did not discover until I was at my goddamn front door. &*%$#@ After mentally bitching out myself and every single individual who stood between me and my keys that day, I did manage to fetch the stinking pieces of metal and return to my domicile. I "tidied", if you will, while throwing together a mass amount of dip made from the pound of tufu I thought was on the verge of going bad (it wasn't). I spent about an hour on the stupid thing because I very distinctly did NOT want it to taste like tofu. Which I don't think it did, in the end, and I was pretty proud of it and am presently ready to declare myself Grand High Most Fabulous Chef in the Universe. To give you an idea of why, here are the things I tossed into this dip: pound of tofu; half pound of cheddar cheese; remnants of garlic hummus from fridge; remnants of cream cheese that expired in 2001; three sizable scoops of Trader Joe's mayonnaise; remnants of mozzarella cheese from fridge; few scrapings of parmesan cheese from fridge; half a bag of baby spinach; bag of artichoke hearts; canadian mustard spice, onion salt, paprika, and black pepper. A masterpiece, no doubt. And...a whole fucking LOT of dip. So that was all squared away well ahead of time, plus Ann showed up at my place a half hour late because she couldn't find her way out of a paper bag with no sides. But we went off to the party and I, for one, made good use of the free food, and drank some concoction of liquids that I don't believe has a name (Bacardi, Sprite, and grenadine, anyone?) and enjoyed myself thoroughly, especially on the dance floor. Ann was being...weird, and after complaining about how hungry she was, wanted nothing to eat. A little awkward for me, since I was a guest, not an employee, but not awkward enough to keep me from the hors d'oeuvres. We dawdled a bit too long and left a little late to meet our pre-9 o'clock arrival time. I had visions of Spooky and Rob and my sister brooding angrily at my doorstep. Luckily, sort of, it was just Rob who was there, but he had been there for twenty minutes, so that wasn't so cool. My sister had no intentions of coming, nor any intentions of telling me about it, so I didn't have to worry about her, and Spooky was late, and lost, so no worries about him either. So all was pretty well and good, except for the lack of Charlie. But, as aforementioned, we did have a pretty good time anyway. At least I did. Never mind that Spook and I waited out in the rain and cold for Rob to come pick us up for about, I don't know, twenty minutes? And he never did. Dammit, I said "we'll be at Brooks. Brooks!" like three times. But he looked for us at Trader Joe's. Quoi the fuck? And never mind we almost got kilt by some surprise train tracks on the way to drop Spooky off, then almost kilt again nearly plowing into some parked cars because Rob hit the gas instead of the brake. Woops. And you'll all be happy to know, that finding our way home from Spooky's was a piece of cake. At least those of you who worry about such things will be. On Saturday Ann and I planned to get together to go to the gym. At five. FIVE. At four thirty, Rob and I were involved in some very dirty foreplay and were all revved up to get into the main attraction, when the fucking bell rang. I SAID FIVE, WOMAN! AND I SAID IT FOR A REASON! Rob lept into the bathroom with his pants and underwear on his arm, and I labored into my own garments, grumbling angrily. I opened the door to find Ann, to whom I said, I SAID FIVE! FIVE! She offered to hide out in the bathroom for fifteen minutes (gee, generous), but let's be frank: there's nothing less sexy than someone in your bathroom waiting for you to be done. Believe me, I've tried it. Blerg. We tried to make up for it by screwing in the middle of the night last night, but nothing can bring back that lost opportunity, and that fabulous foreplay. (sigh) Oh don't worry, we'll do it again. Ann's and my departure for the gym was delayed slightly by her desperate need to look up recipes for pot brownies online. We're making pot brownies on Thursday. Or pot devil's food cake, actually, because that was all they had at Walgreen's. My workout last night was intense and thorough, and I'm pretty sore right now. But proud. I kicked Ann out at 9:30 last night after feeding her something she apparently didn't like, because she only ate half of it, and showered and got ready for bed. The end. Until Rob got home. But I already told you that part. I'm at work now, as you might have guessed; my last Sunday shift ever (despite what my coworkers say about my eventually inevitably coming back here someday). All of the work is done, and there are still four and a half hours to kill. But that's good, because on Friday I was in the midst of finding out all this great stuff about my great-great-grandmother online, so I can go back to printing it all out and planning my strategy for acquiring the bits of it that reside in various places all over Cambridge. For a while there I was completely bummed because I couldn't find anything, then I type her name into google and come up with a quatrillion things. But I still have very little time to get it all. I think it basically all boils down to: Tuesday. Tonight, there are four things to do: wrap my aunt's present to mail; put together the pumpkin pie, to be baked on Monday night; balance my checkbook (I've been using my debit card excessively, since my credit card is missing); and laundry. Plus all the normal things, like getting the next day's lunch together and watching Home Movies. Good thing I came in nice and early this morning (for a Sunday), so I'll get home nice and early. I should be able to get to the laundromat by quarter past six. Have I ever told you I'm Wonder Woman? I'm Wonder Woman. Getting to Arizona and having two weeks before classes start will be a great vacation, even if it is a working vacation. I dreamed about being there last night. I also dreamed about what might be on the CDs Spooky made for me. I have to dream because I...*cough*don't have the technology to play them at home*cough*. But still, isn't that the greatest thing?! 12:26 p.m. - 2002-12-15 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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