167: the barbra of seville

I was updating my datebook this morning, writing in my grandfather’s birthday and Amy’s wedding, when I flipped back through the last few weeks. Jacinda was reading Time magazine, and we were in a cab ‘cos we were both running late for work. From my notes, I gathered something that you all may have already figured out: I hang out with couples. A lot. People tend to visit me with their significant others. When I hang out with certain people, the first thing I usually ask is where is their significant other/spouse/love monkey. I suppose that, as I get older, this is usual. People are pairing up and settling down. I’m not opposed to this, but I’m kind of not getting it right now. Probably because I am, in ways of the heart, a sixteen year old girl.

Speaking of getting older, I’d like to thank y’all who came sent cards, presents, and/or attended my birthday party last weekend. It was truly awesome. Pictures are posted, albeit in a rough, inelegant way, at http://www.whatwouldjasminedo.com. I promise to rearrange them, and put up more pictures once Stef has developed her film. I started celebrating my birthday Friday night. After a long afternoon in Wicker Park, buying CDs and comics, I met Kathy and Kevin for my birthday dinner at Frontera. I am so glad that we convened early (5:30), as we were seated almost right away. The blue agave margaritas flowed, we talked a lot of shit, and I ate a ton of beef. In case you’re wondering, yes it did occur to me that because it was Good Friday, I probably should have been whipping myself with a cat o’ nine tails and eating anchovy paste with a shrimp fork off a roofing tile. But by that point in the day, I had already eaten a few strips of bacon so it was much much too late to go back. Anyway, Kathy offered me a bite of her carne asada (naturally raised Montana ribeye marinated in red chile and then wood-grilled). Kevin had the short ribs, and I had tacos al pastor. Oh, and lest I forget — tangerine-buttermilk ice cream with hot fudge. All served by a very groovy indie rock hipster waiter who shook our margaritas at the table. Da-amn. I went home to bed, stuffed with delicious meat and dreaming of Saturday morning. I like spending the morning of my birthday alone. I don’t answer the phone, I eat a greasy breakfast, and I try to see a movie if I can. I had to run to the post office, so I slapped on my yoga pants and slipped out the door while Charles, Olivia, and Jacinda slept. The air was cold, but the sun was shining bright, and I didn’t know what to do with myself until the post office opened. I went to McDonald’s, read one of my favorite trashy novels (Jilly Cooper’s “Rivals”), and pointedly ignored the smooching couples around me. Stopped at the post office, the grocery store, the internet cafe place to print a sangria recipe from allrecipes.com (33 cents). I came home, read The Enquirer, and saw Olivia and Charles off as they went out for brunch. I considered the sad state of the living room, and sat down to watch some television.

After spending an hour buying groceries and booze, Jacinda and I came home and started cleaning. I tried to help Jacinda clean but pretty much just got in her way as she scoured out the bathtub and mopped the floors. I cooked and worried about what I was going to wear. I think the party went pretty well, though there were certain points in time when I had to stop and think “Exactly how much do I want to do this? How disappointed would people be if I just put up a sign that read ‘Gone fishin’, and then hid at the L & L?” I think Jacinda would have certainly killed me, as she cleaned the entire apartment while I baked brownies, made the sangria, and panicked. I took a shower while the first guests to arrive pondered the curious assortment of snack food and made polite conversation. Jacinda put on a super-short skirt while I applied some shiny red lipstick and grimaced at myself in the bathroom mirror.

Things I would have changed about the party:

  1. Spent more time talking to following people: Damien, Chris, Will, Robyn, Kathy, Michael, John, Jorge, Kevin, Stef, Felix, Theresa, Tasneem — okay, just about everybody.
  2. Bought less sangria ingredients.
  3. Played more upbeat music for people to dance to.

I finally got into bed at 2am — alone, thank you for asking. I spent Sunday convalescing. I should have cleaned — instead, I bagged up the garbage, cleared up the living room. The kitchen still smelled like alcohol though I will say that I didn’t notice the smell until I got home from work Monday night to find that Jacinda cleaned up. I apologized for my laxity, Joe came over, and we ate leftovers from his parents’ Friday night seder. And let me tell you, nothing says loving like a good piece of kugel.

Random phone call no. 1

Older sister called me last Friday to complain about her boyfriend and, more to the point, the evil ways of his ex-girlfriend. The ex is supposed to put together a web site to advertise his skills as a DJ. She feels that, in order to accomplish this, he must travel down to Washington, D.C. to work on this. But isn’t the point of the Internet to make all that sort of dillydicking and fartyfucking a thing of the past? Okay, maybe not, but the girl sounded kind of sketchy to me.

Random phone call no. 2

Father called Saturday morning while I was doing the “few hours alone on birthday” thing. He called to say happy birthday and to complain about how my younger sister, because she has no friends, wants to drop out of school. I tell him to sit down with her and have a serious heart-to-heart, talk to her teachers, speech therapist, etc. He wants to send her off to boot camp. And not that bullshit boot camp for juvenile delinquents — he wants her to join the army. I express my displeasure at his cluelessness, and hang up. I make a mental note to write a letter to my sister before she runs away from home and turns up on the Maury Povich show.

Random phone call no. 3

“Hey Jasmine?””Oh, hi Jacinda.”

‘Dr. Dolittle’ is on ABC Family right now.”

“Which one?”

“The one with Eddie Murphy.”

“So not the one with the creepy giant snail?”

“Nope.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

“Happy Easter!”

“Happy Easter!”

*playlist*

Alison Krauss & Dan Tyminski – Blue & Lonesome; St. Etienne – You’re In A Bad Way; Tammy Faye Bakker – The Devil’s After Me; The Slumber Party – I Don’t Mind; Del Shannon – Needles and Pins; The Flashing Lights – Talk to The Hand; Ozzy Osbourne – Crazy Train; The Rolling Stones – Let It Bleed

*links*

http://www.nytimes.com/2002/03/31/fashion/31FAT.html
http://www.americanadobo.com

*lipstick*

Stila Salome (glossy red), no liner (today)
Nars Shanghai Empress (Friday, March 29)

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~ by Jasmine on April 3, 2002.

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