Random Esquire

Little Filthy sleeping on his paws (ab0ve)

PEACH YOGURT – DELICIOUS.

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Black cherry yogurt? ALSO DELICIOUS.

I like to snap picture of the lake when I snag a cab home.

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Dinner party at my sister’s – figs, gorgonzola, honey.

Little Filthy had an upset stomach here. He ate grapes off a table. Thought he might be toxic but the little boy pulled through and was back to himself in about a week. Scary!

There was a lot of travel at the end of the year. Little Filthy disapproves.

Legs got Little Filthy a pumpkin shirt.

Dinner one night.

Unfortunately, Little Filthy has learned that he just needs to climb over the back of the couch to look out the windows. *sigh*

Eggs lined up. These are from the restaurant Next. I was at the Food and Wine magazine event at the Museum of Contemporary Art.

Playing LEGOS with my nephew.

Dinner at the loft.

First snow fall.

Passed out.

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1.  I am spending the weekend with Legs. (She is amazing, did I mention?)

2.  Last night, we went to dinner and the theatre. I was ready to go and was waiting in the kitchen when Legs walked out of the bedroom in a black dress. I lit up.

I said, ‘You look fantastic!”

She looked at me and said, “I’m going to change clothes.”

*Blink*

Then she returned in a different black dress.

A shorter, smaller black dress.

I said, “Wow.  You look great.”

She looked at me and then turned back toward the bedroom. She called back to me, “Maybe I should put on underwear.”

3.  We were waiting for the cab outside when I leaned in and kissed her. I said, “I already got a kiss, this early in the date! This date is going well.”

She said, “You’ve already scored today.”

Touche.

+1 Legs

4.  We just walked to a little diner and had breakfast. We were holding hands, walking down the street and I said, “When you walk to the breakfast between 10 and 11 on a Sunday morning, it’s obvious that you had sex instead of going to church.”

Legs said, “We were walking the dog!”

I said, “We walked him after we had sex.”

She grinned.

+1 Random

5.  Legs was kind enough to let me take a picture of her t-shirt (above). By that, I mean that she put one hand on her hip and lifted her other hand, as if to say, “Fine. Go ahead, if you must.”

She is not a blogger. She does not use Twitter. My writing about her and tweeting about her is a new experience for her – one that sometimes both appalls and tickles her. Speaking of, she got the nickname “Legs” on Twitter and it has stuck.

I informed her of this.

She’s okay with it.

LEGS.

1.  Monday was my last (for now) day on this most recent (and bloody awful) job assignment. It ended abruptly and surprisingly. I celebrated by heading to Washington DC on Tuesday with a pretty woman and sitting along the water in Georgetown to enjoy lunch with her. See Exhibit 1 below.

Then the earthquake hit.

And then I figured I should probably go home.

2.  Speaking of said earthquake: We were enjoying a beer in the sunshine when our chairs started to shake and then the earth… rippled. It felt like we were suddenly afloat on a raft and bobbing along to small waves.  The people seated around us had gone silent. Once the shaking had ended, the chatter about an earthquake began.

Natural disaster? BOOM. DONE.

3.  I came home to a little chunky monkey. My parents had somehow mistakenly fed Little Filthy TWICE as much as his normal amount. I can picture Little Filthy watching my mother fill his bowl, thinking, “That’s right…keep going, lady…keep it comin’.”

4.  Nosy Neighbor and I crossed paths this morning. She said, “I saw you almost every day for two weeks and then nothing for almost three weeks!” And I blurted out where I was, my employer, and what I was doing. She looked so satisfied, I thought she might light a cigarette.

5.  While at the airline counter waiting for a seat change, I had my hand resting on the counter-top. I reached up and rubbed my eye unconsciously. And right then, I pictured myself on a security tape being played in front of a classroom of people – an instructor in front pausing the tape right as my fingers approached my eye. She says, “Annnnnnnnnnnnnd that is how you get pink eye.”

6.  Thank you to all of you who left comments on my last entry. I can’t tell you how nice it was to read the words of encouragement during what was a particularly dark and difficult week.

7.  Despite all predictions to the contrary, I did not end up at the bottom of the Hudson river during my trip. This pleases me.

8.  I must now cut this entry short as the Little Filthy Chunky Monkey is about to drop his blob at the mention of going to the park.

9. And, obviously, I missed QTMama and her two-car vagina so very much. Mainly because it doubles as a poncho in the rain.

I ran into my neighbor again yesterday afternoon.  She is now curious about what I do for a living.

She said, as we got on to the elevator with Little Filthy, “Oh, your dog is so cute. Sometimes he barks at me in the morning when I leave for work and sometimes he doesn’t.” She said this last part slowly, as if testing my reaction to each word.

Sometimes he barks and sometimes he doesn’t because when I am home, I give him the evil eye for barking at noise in the hall.

I said, “He’s inconsistent.”

I don’t know why I do things like this. I could just tell her that I’m an attorney and that sometimes I work from home, but I find her indirect statements so odd that I don’t feel inclined to entertain them with the answers she is seeking.

She said, “I never see you leave for work!”

And then it happened.

I got Blank Face.

And I said in a completely vague manner, “Me, neither!”

It was just nonsense enough to give her pause while the elevator doors opened and we then began down the hallway in silence. We each unlocked our doors and I said, “Goodnight!” even though it was mid afternoon.

She probably hates me.

Some people smell like gravy.

I mean, generally, I like gravy – but there are some things that shouldn’t smell like gravy. And one of them is people.  Actually, the only thing that should smell like gravy is gravy. I wouldn’t even want Little Filthy to smell like gravy.

Usually, though, things that are nice generally smell nice and things that are gross generally smell gross. Probably this means that, for the most part, the assignment of smells to certain objects if a fairly orderly affair. But then you have that odd flower that smells like rotting flesh. And, really, if you smell cheese and did not know it was cheese, you might be grossed out. And then, of course, there are those people who smell like gravy.

You know what? I’ve talked myself right out of enjoying gravy.

I’m going to now call is sauce. It’s just sauce.

Some people smell like sauce.

1.  I sometimes say things that I think are somewhat funny when really they aren’t.

This morning at the grocery store, the woman bagging my stuff said, “Do you mind if I put the shampoo in with your groceries?”

Now, first of all, it wasn’t shampoo. I got body wash for the 2nd bathroom because you can’t give guests a bar of soap. You know why? It’s just fucking gross. I mean, if I have to tell you that, then you’ve clearly never been a guest at someone’s home and gotten into the shower only to see a bar of soap staring at you with a single black, curly hair stuck on it. You follow?

Okay, so, she said, “Do you mind if I put the shampoo in with your groceries?”

I said, “No, I plan on eating the shampoo.”

She said, very softly, “…oh…”

I sort of wanted to roll my eyes or tell her I was kidding but then I figure she might as well think I’m a weirdo if she’s so gullible. I mean, life’s got harder lessons down the road for the likes of her.

2.  I might have a somewhat nosy neighbor. I take some pride in not fully answering her questions. The first time I met her, she said, “Ohhh, so you’re the new neighbor! I was wondering when I’d meet you. So… are you married? or did you buy your place alone?”

I said, “I have a dog.”

Then yesterday morning, I walked in early with some bags and she said, “Oh! Did you go to the Farmers’ Market?” Which, really, I don’t get why she would think that is the only place a person goes in the morning. Instead of telling her what I did, I said, “I’m a morning person!”

Whatever.

3.  Did you know that if you move and you decide not to take your bed frame and instead, you just put your mattress on the floor for a few weeks while you look for furniture..well, did you know that if you do that, your dog will think you are fucking awesome for giving him such a huge bed even if he finds it strange that you insist on sharing it with him? Little Filthy was disappointed when the bedroom furniture arrived.

My schedule has definitely changed since moving. Hence tirades like this from QTMama. I used to stay up until 1-2 a.m. regularly. Now, it hits 10 p.m. and I start to think of bed. WTF.

4.  I have still not purchased living room or dining room (they are all one big room) furniture. It has been suggested by more than one person that I simply put basketball hoops up on either end and call it a day.

5.  Little Filthy is completely baffled by the glass doored shower. He growls like mad when I open or close the doors. And once I am inside, when I close the doors, he somehow thinks I can no longer see him and he makes a beeline for the trashcan, getting up on his hind legs and peeking inside for goodies. I then yell, “Hey!” and about startle him to death. I really don’t get this dog.

When you think it is all coming together, it all falls apart.

Such is life, as it is.

This is what it looks like when someone jams your jaw open for an hour and drills out two cracked teeth.

I mean, honestly, that is just pure misery on his face.

So, many of you have heard about me and have even appreciated my artwork.  I felt it was long overdue for me to welcome you to our family and share some laughs of mine as well.

So you’ve heard of me, the Big Sister who can now just be referred to as BS.  About me – a 39 yr old working mom in a NYC suburb.  Although I’m not from the East coast, I have lived here now for about 15 years which means I have:

1- evolved my ability to be an aggressive driver;

2- temporarily became a disciple of eating (insert food fad here: cupcakes, rice pudding, boba tea, meatballs, ramen noodles etc) and (insert exercise/health fad here: yoga, jivamukti yoga, bar method, blueprint cleanse);

3- a heightened intolerance for people who lack self-awareness (loud talkers on cell phones, people who walk on the side walk in NYC shoulder to shoulder);  AND

4 – a big ego.

I have two kids; I’ll call them Ferdinand (3 yrs old) and Isabella (5 yrs old) not because they’re Spanish but because they behave like royalty.   I’ll spend more time discussing them later – today’s entry is about husbands.

I was recently in Hawaii for work.

Really for work?  Yes, I did work (as least as possible) and yes, I did eat (fad foods:  Puka dog, loco moco) and yes, I did try paddleboarding.  The following week, friends of ours were hosting a Hawaii-themed party so I thought would it be cute if we ALL (the family) wore the same printed Hawaiian outfits.  Me and Isabella in matching MuMu dresses (think Mrs. Roper in colorful Hibiscus prints) with plumeria in our hair, and Daddy and Ferdinand wearing same print in Hawaiian shirts.  This is how the conversation went down.

BS to spouse:  “Hey, I was thinking that for the Hawaiian party next week we could all wear matching outfits, really go with the theme.  All four of us in cute bright printed Hawaiian shirts and dresses.”

Do you all have images of Griswold family wearing matching berets?

Spouse: “Really?? I think you guys would look cute but I think I’ll abstain.”

BS: “But come on, the kids are only young for a short amount of time. I’m only going to be able to dress them for a brief time so if we ever want to do it, it’s now.  It’ll be cute!”

Spouse:  “No”

So, spouse is usually a good sport about things but I’m sure he was thinking, “Geeez, our friends all know you have my nutsack in a sling, do we really have to arrive at a party and announce it with a superbowl ad?”

I think you guys all know the couples I’m talking about here. Where you know that the wife runs the show and rules the household.  I’m not saying that my house is like that but maybe it’s more important for my friends to think it’s run like that.  In the end, the kids wore matching outfits, we just honored the theme of the party by getting shit-faced on mai-tais.

Glad to insert myself into RandomEsq’s blog here  – Mahalo!

Do you have some examples you’ve seen where you can tell that the woman is totally in charge, bossing her husband around?

Where’s my couch?!