Dear Diary,
OK, so the whole NYC thing didn't work out so great. I caught a nasty stomach bug, probably from some little brat on the train. I did have one fun night in the East Village, but Saturday I was violently ill and had to dope myself up and take the train back home to my sympathetic husband and dogs. A tragedy.
Ha ha, but he best quote of the (short) weekend:
Me: Look! Look at that cute little dog! It's like Charlotte's dog, Elizabeth Taylor!
Friend E: Oh my god Fluffy, please stop making Sex and the City references.
Love, Fluffy
31.7.07
27.7.07
Girls' Weekend 2007
Dear Diary,
This evening a couple of girlfriends and I are headed to NYC for the weekend. I have not been to NYC since my roaring twenties, when I would invariably end uppassing out sleeping on someone's floor. But this time we are staying in an actual HOTEL, in Murray Hill. And we are taking the train, like sophisticated ladies. We might even go to the MOMA. (Or wait, maybe I meant Mama's, that soulfood joint on 3rd Street... either way, it will be classy.)
So if you happen to be in Manhattan, look out for me and my idiot friends. We'll be wearing enormous sunglasses and trying to look like hipsters. One of us may be screaming obscenities (that's friend E) and I'll be annoying everyone by wearing a City B t-shirt and taking pictures of my food.
Bonne week-end!
Love, Fluffy
This evening a couple of girlfriends and I are headed to NYC for the weekend. I have not been to NYC since my roaring twenties, when I would invariably end up
So if you happen to be in Manhattan, look out for me and my idiot friends. We'll be wearing enormous sunglasses and trying to look like hipsters. One of us may be screaming obscenities (that's friend E) and I'll be annoying everyone by wearing a City B t-shirt and taking pictures of my food.
Bonne week-end!
Love, Fluffy
24.7.07
Chugga Chugga Choo Chooooo!!!
Dear Lindsay Lohan,
Thank you for being the spectacular trainwreck that you are.
Also, thank you for looking like such a hag at the ripe old age of 21.
I applaud you for not succumbing to the pressure to behave yourself. You go ON with your bad self!
Thank you for being the spectacular trainwreck that you are.
Also, thank you for looking like such a hag at the ripe old age of 21.
I applaud you for not succumbing to the pressure to behave yourself. You go ON with your bad self!
Love, Fluffy
23.7.07
20.7.07
Sighs, Eyes, Love, Glove
Dear Diary,
I am really busy digesting an enormous filet mignon right now. In the meantime, here are the lyrics to the Steve Miller song "Abracadabra," with my comments.
I heat up, I can't cool down
You got me spinnin round and round
Round and round and round it goes
Where it stops nobody knows (Isn't this a commercial for something?)
Every time you call my name
I heat up like a burnin flame (Is there another kind of flame?)
Burnin flame full of desire (Are we talking about him or the flame here?)
Kiss me baby, let the fire get higher
Abra-abra-cadabra
I want to reach out and grab ya (Kudos on this rhyme.)
Abra-abra-cadabra
Abracadabra (Guess he kinda ran out of steam on something else to rhyme with cadabra.)
You make me hot, you make me sigh
You make me laugh, you make me cry
Keep me burnin for your love
With the touch of a velvet glove (?)
(Chorus)
I feel the magic in your caress
I feel magic when I touch your dress
Silk and satin, leather and lace (That dress has got WAY too much going on.)
Black panties with an angels face (So wait, the panties have a face on them? That's creepy.)
I see magic in your eyes
I hear the magic in your sighs
Just when I think I'm gonna get away
I hear those words that you always say (So wait. She's the one saying abracadabra? Because at first it seems like it's him.)
(Chorus)
Every time you call my name
I heat up like a burnin flame
Burnin flame full of desire
Kiss me baby, let the fire get higher
I heat up, I can't cool down
My situation goes round and round (Is "situation" a euphemism of some sort?)
I heat up, I cant cool down
My situation goes round and round
I heat up, I cant cool down
My situation goes round and round
Love, Fluffy
I am really busy digesting an enormous filet mignon right now. In the meantime, here are the lyrics to the Steve Miller song "Abracadabra," with my comments.
I heat up, I can't cool down
You got me spinnin round and round
Round and round and round it goes
Where it stops nobody knows (Isn't this a commercial for something?)
Every time you call my name
I heat up like a burnin flame (Is there another kind of flame?)
Burnin flame full of desire (Are we talking about him or the flame here?)
Kiss me baby, let the fire get higher
Abra-abra-cadabra
I want to reach out and grab ya (Kudos on this rhyme.)
Abra-abra-cadabra
Abracadabra (Guess he kinda ran out of steam on something else to rhyme with cadabra.)
You make me hot, you make me sigh
You make me laugh, you make me cry
Keep me burnin for your love
With the touch of a velvet glove (?)
(Chorus)
I feel the magic in your caress
I feel magic when I touch your dress
Silk and satin, leather and lace (That dress has got WAY too much going on.)
Black panties with an angels face (So wait, the panties have a face on them? That's creepy.)
I see magic in your eyes
I hear the magic in your sighs
Just when I think I'm gonna get away
I hear those words that you always say (So wait. She's the one saying abracadabra? Because at first it seems like it's him.)
(Chorus)
Every time you call my name
I heat up like a burnin flame
Burnin flame full of desire
Kiss me baby, let the fire get higher
I heat up, I can't cool down
My situation goes round and round (Is "situation" a euphemism of some sort?)
I heat up, I cant cool down
My situation goes round and round
I heat up, I cant cool down
My situation goes round and round
Love, Fluffy
12.7.07
To Market, to Market, to Buy a Size 6
Dear Diary,
I've had a couple of upsetting interactions this week. First of all, I was talking to this woman at work (who is a middle-aged, overweight spinster who lives with her SISTER, by the way) and she was telling me about some other woman, and she said, "She is teeny-tiny. I mean tiny, like, smaller than YOU!" I'm not sure why this upset me. Maybe because having an overweight spinster tell you that someone is tinier than you is insulting. Like does she KNOW that I am struggling with my weight at the moment and am almost considering buying a size 6 jeans for the first time? How could she know that? Diary, I have never ever worn a size 6. I was OK bumping up from 2 to 4. I mean, OK, I could handle it when I crested 100 pounds. But that was like 4 years ago. If I go up a jean size every 4 years, I'll be a freaking size 10 by the time I hit 35. I might as well just die. (Did I mention that I was raised in a house with two anorexic older sisters? Sorry, Sisters A and B but seriously, eat a sandwich already. I'm tired of being the fat one here.) I blame my body dysmorphic disorder entirely on them.
Anyway, then today I was at the farmers market near my work. I am generally anti-farmers market (because of the slow, lumbering suburban fatties who seem to have no spatial awareness of their size and get in my way and make me heave and sigh and glare at everyone). But I go, because the BHE will be pissed if I don't come home every Thursday with fresh basil, crunchy french bread, and blackberries (he's not a homo, honest). So at the peach stand I look up to hand the dude my money and discover that he is a stone-cold hot hottie. So I smiled and said thank you, and he said, "You're welcome, ma'am."
Ma'am. This kid was probably like 17. I could eat 17 for breakfast. When did I turn into Mrs. Robinson? Or Mrs. Roper?
Is it the glasses?
Love, Fluffy
I've had a couple of upsetting interactions this week. First of all, I was talking to this woman at work (who is a middle-aged, overweight spinster who lives with her SISTER, by the way) and she was telling me about some other woman, and she said, "She is teeny-tiny. I mean tiny, like, smaller than YOU!" I'm not sure why this upset me. Maybe because having an overweight spinster tell you that someone is tinier than you is insulting. Like does she KNOW that I am struggling with my weight at the moment and am almost considering buying a size 6 jeans for the first time? How could she know that? Diary, I have never ever worn a size 6. I was OK bumping up from 2 to 4. I mean, OK, I could handle it when I crested 100 pounds. But that was like 4 years ago. If I go up a jean size every 4 years, I'll be a freaking size 10 by the time I hit 35. I might as well just die. (Did I mention that I was raised in a house with two anorexic older sisters? Sorry, Sisters A and B but seriously, eat a sandwich already. I'm tired of being the fat one here.) I blame my body dysmorphic disorder entirely on them.
Anyway, then today I was at the farmers market near my work. I am generally anti-farmers market (because of the slow, lumbering suburban fatties who seem to have no spatial awareness of their size and get in my way and make me heave and sigh and glare at everyone). But I go, because the BHE will be pissed if I don't come home every Thursday with fresh basil, crunchy french bread, and blackberries (he's not a homo, honest). So at the peach stand I look up to hand the dude my money and discover that he is a stone-cold hot hottie. So I smiled and said thank you, and he said, "You're welcome, ma'am."
Ma'am. This kid was probably like 17. I could eat 17 for breakfast. When did I turn into Mrs. Robinson? Or Mrs. Roper?
Is it the glasses?
Love, Fluffy
5.7.07
Captain Adoption
Dear Diary,
Let me start by saying that I have always been fond of Nicole Richie. I believe that she's not just a vapid celebutante, but in fact possesses a wicked sense of humor and clever wit that is sadly overshadowed by her choice of activities and companions. I am probably the cheese standing alone on this issue, but I like her.
That being said... she's going to have a baby? Seriously? SERIOUSLY? All I can say is that this should be entertaining. For me, anyway. Maybe if the whole motherhood thing doesn't work out for Nicole, adoption superhero Angelina Jolie will swoop in and make things right.
Now THAT would make a good reality show. I would even get cable for that one.
Love, Fluffy
Let me start by saying that I have always been fond of Nicole Richie. I believe that she's not just a vapid celebutante, but in fact possesses a wicked sense of humor and clever wit that is sadly overshadowed by her choice of activities and companions. I am probably the cheese standing alone on this issue, but I like her.
That being said... she's going to have a baby? Seriously? SERIOUSLY? All I can say is that this should be entertaining. For me, anyway. Maybe if the whole motherhood thing doesn't work out for Nicole, adoption superhero Angelina Jolie will swoop in and make things right.
Now THAT would make a good reality show. I would even get cable for that one.
Love, Fluffy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)