345: kissing things


Chande-licious!
Originally uploaded by missjasmine.

Before I begin this recap, I just want to share a dream I had Saturday night. I don’t remember the whole dream, just the part where I walk into the house of this guy I know. I don’t know if the guy lives in a house in real life, but in my dream it was a nice place, with his room at the top of the stairs. I can hear him taking a shower, so I sit in the doorway of his sunny bedroom, with its inviting unmade bed, and pet a dog that comes up to lick my face. Guy gets out of the shower, finds me in the doorway, and then . . . nothing. I think he was leaning down to kiss me when poof! I wake up in my own bed in my very dark bedroom and my Hello Kitty alarm clock says it’s 8:46 am. In dreams, as in life, I am, as ever, unable to seal the deal. Or get table, as my old college neighbor Henry used to say.

Which brings me to “Fat Actress”, my favorite new show. What killed me was this scene where Kirstie Alley was about to go to bed with the director of development at the big network where she was pitching a show, and she was such a spaz during foreplay that she couldn’t stop laughing to do the deed. It felt all too familiar, but I laughed my ass anyway.

I’ve been enjoying the new gig, and the new less frantic pace that comes with not having to talk to angry traders all day. I can take breaks when I like, take a longer lunch if I need to, put on the headphones and tune people out if I’m in a writing or testing groove. I have an almost daily lunch date with Jacalyn, Oscar, or Cynthia. We braved Thursday’s nasty wet storm for pizza at Giordano’s. At some point we were talking about Delta Burke (don’t act so surprised — you should know by now that just about any conversation with me will somehow get on the subject of Delta Burke or Rue McClanahan) and I was able to amaze my friends by remembering the name of Delta’s husband. His name is Gerald McRaney, in case you were wondering.

Thursday night, instead of going to an HBO screening after work, I walked Cynthia to her bus stop and then took my ass home and curled up on the couch where I could dry off in peace and watch a mediocre episode of “The OC”. Friday, I had lunch at my desk with Jacalyn and her sister, Jessica, who also works with us. There are a lot of siblings who work with me, and they are two of the nicest. And I’m not just saying that because I share an office with Jacalyn and she could poison my Girl Scout cookies. After work, Oscar and I accompanied Cynthia to Sears so she could buy some clothes for the kids. I guess times have changed, but some of the girls’ underthings looked so much like lingerie that I could have sworn we were at Victoria’s Secret. Really.

Skipping ahead to Saturday. I had lunch at Fish Pond with Dan, Joe, and Jacinda. Filipino buffet — all you can eat for, like $11. Kare kare. Chicken adobo. Pancit and fried fish and dinuguan. No lumpia, though. And that’s kinda weird, no lumpia. It’s like what we’re known for, after cockfighting and inventing the yo-yo. There was flan, however, and that was delicious. Over lunch, we cursed a lot and talked about, what else?, the freaks who went to the U of C. Like this guy Derek who lived in my house. He’d pace up and down the halls and, when he got to an open door, he’d leap past as though the people inside couldn’t see him. He ate a cheeseburger every day for lunch and every night for dinner. The one time he ate early enough that the kitchen staff hadn’t yet put out the ketchup he yelled at the top of his lungs until a tub of it was put out just for him. I don’t know why people could be so surprised at the quality and quantity of freakiness at the U of C — the school is, after all, built on a midway, so naturally the area is going to attract more than its fair share of weirdos. I guess this observation was particularly astute, as it actually brought tears to Dan’s eyes.

After lunch, we split up — Joe and Jacinda went off to buy yarn so Jacinda could knit a sweater or a tube top or something for their future niece or nephew (Joe’s sister is due in the fall) and Dan and I went to buy comic books. I picked up the first two books of the “Sin City” series, and Dan showed me some other books he thought I might like. The store was full of fan boys and the odd woman still carrying a lunchbox instead of a purse. I looked around and thought of those lame articles I’d read in women’s magazines that list comic book stores and sports bars as great places for women to pick up men. I think that if I were a man, I’d find it annoying if some overly made-up women hit on me while I was trying to geek out. But maybe I’m wrong. Gosh, I hope I’m wrong, because there were some cute guys at Chicago Comics that afternoon.

Joe and Jacinda drove me home, bless them, as it was cold out and it was kinda on their way home anyway. I waited for them on the corner of Belmont and Clark, in front of the “Punkin’ Donuts”. Drunk kids wearing St. Patrick’s Day gear ran down the street, yelling “It’s all about the mustard!” as they headed towards Clark’s for post-parade, pre-bar burgers and burritos. Young teenage boys wearing Johnny Ramone hair and Sid Vicious padlocks slouched past me. Girls wearing last year’s faded jeans and over-plucked eyebrows ooh’ed over dresses with handkerchief hems at the Pink Frog. In the parking lot, a suburban mother protested her green minivan being booted while her pre-teen daughter cried, mortified by her mother’s flat hair, sagging chin, unfashionably green wool coat.

Saturday night is not really worth recapping. I watched wedding-centric programming on the Food Network and chatted on-line with Kevin. He invited me over for roast pork loin sandwiches, but I decided to stay in and make myself a tuna melt instead. I watched a program about the Oklahoma State Sugar Art Show, where women (and a few men) competed cake and confectionary competitions for cash prizes and bragging rights. Lots of big fluffy cakes baked by women with big fluffy hair — eek.

Sunday was pretty damn near perfect. Kathy came over at 10:30 with potato chips, which we ate while watching VH1 count down their 100 hottest celebrity bodies. I wish I had Tivo, as I wanted to freeze their clips of LL Cool J pulling up his shirt in “S.W.A.T.” and licking his lips in the music video “Doin’ It”. Kevin came over and we met Adrienne at Buca di Beppo for lunch. We tucked ourselves into a booth with a lovely chandelier and proceed to talk shit for two hours. And we ate: 2 half pound meatballs. Large order of chicken parmigiana with prosciutto. Escarole. Garlic mashed potatoes. Mozarella garlic bread. And double-chocolate cake with spumoni and whipped cream. Mmm.

We talked seriously about going to Disney World in May so we can be snarky and get our eat on at my favorite Disney eatery, the Restaurant Akershus in the Norway pavilion at Epcot. And if we do go in May, should we go for the character dining? Who wouldn’t love a traditional Norwegian buffet with the Disney princesses? After lunch, we lazed at Kevin’s. VH1 Classic showed an old episode of “Yo! MTV Raps” so we got to watch a young Busta Rhymes dance and flail all over Long Island. We planned the 80s party I’m going to throw this summer, where Kathy will dress like Salt n’ Pepa in the “Push It” video (black Lycra cat suit, gold rope chains, doorknocker earrings, leather bomber jacket, red knee high boots) and I may dress as freestyle queen Lisa Lisa in the video for “I Wonder If I Take You Home” (pink satin crop top, matching palazzo pants, wide pink satin headband, hair styled over right eye). So no metal or cheesy arena rock. Just straight up hi-nrg, freestyle, hip-hop, booty bass, funk, electro, and Prince. Lots and lots of Prince. Oh, and when Kathy gets married the song she and her groom will dance to for their first dance will be Rob Base and DJ EZ Rock’s “It Takes Two”. Which, when you think about, is brilliant, and why didn’t I think of that? Check the lyrics:

It takes two to make a thing go right
It takes two to make it outta sight

After the hip-hop and the talking, Kathy and Adrienne went home and I took a nap on Kevin’s couch. Kevin watched “Clerks” while I drifted off. I thought things were going better this time around, as I felt somebody kissing my ear. But it was just Spencer, licking my ear after Jolanta dropped him off after a weekend with her. I’ve decided that Spencer will be my boyfriend — sure, he’s a little hairier than I’d prefer, but he eats meat, he’s cute, and he can almost always be relied upon for a kiss, a lick, or hopping up on the couch with me to keep my feet warm.

Cheers,
Jasmine

I don’t care about what you think you see
The thangs you want to know when you look at me
(Chaka Khan)

*songs*
Wilson Pickett – I’m In Love; Led Zeppelin – Dancing Days (live); Rufus Wainwright – Want; S.O.S. Band – Take Your Time (Do It Right); Sloan – Money City Maniacs

*links*
http://www.savetoby.com
http://disneyworld.disney.go.com/wdw/dining/diningDetail?id=AkershusDiningPage&bhcp=1

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~ by Jasmine on March 14, 2005.

2 Responses to “345: kissing things”

  1. Thank Dan for reminding me: http://www.steakandbjday.com.

  2. Also, it was Pi Day yesterday.

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