I got on the elevator today at work and immediately recognized the woman who was already inside.  And…for some reason, I felt instantly awkward.  I couldn’t put my finger on it.

And then I remembered.  It was this woman from my entry two years ago:

Just Bloody Brilliant.

Something is wrong with me.

The other day, I entered my office building and stepped into an elevator in which a woman was waiting. I recognized her from some volunteer work we’d both done at an elementary school recently. She had clearly lost some weight and done her hair, which curled at her shoulders very nicely. I smiled and she said, “Hello!” I could not recall her name and I wished to be polite so I said (thinking that to comment on her weight would be inappropriate), “Your hair looks very nice.” I smiled. She beamed and said, “Thank you!”

I began to think about work and glanced up at the elevator monitor, which showed the weather report. Chicago had been enjoying incredible weather the last few weeks – staying at a nice 78-82 range. I said, absently, “It’s been beautiful the last few days.”

I looked over at her and she had a bit of a stunned look on her face. Then I realized…

She thought I was still talking about her hair.  That I had just said to her, “Your hair has been beautiful the last few days.” Like a complete weirdo.

I said, “Oh! I’m talking about the weather!”

She blushed and said, “Ohhh,” realizing her mistake and then laughed.

And then I stammered, “But, I’m sure your hair has been beautiful the last few days.”

I mean, what the hell is wrong with me.

*****

So, yeah, walked on the elevator and there she was.  You know what I did?  I turned around, faced the doors and STFU.

Random +1.

1.  The Ballerina IM’d me today.  She informed me that she had a dilemma.  I grew a little concerned because she had just had a rather difficult morning so I did not know what to expect.

Ballerina:  I have a dilemma.

RE:  What’s up, Ballerina?

Ballerina:  a few months ago someone barfed all over one of the bathroom stalls on this floor.

At this point, I decided that perhaps someone on her floor had bulimia and she was trying to decide if she should tell someone or confront this person.

RE:  Oy.

Ballerina:  Like, projectile barf all over the place.

RE:  Holy crap.

Ballerina:  I saw it firsthand and almost barfed myself.  Since that day, I have not used that stall.  But I wonder…maybe I should?  It is maybe the cleanest stall now?

*Blink*

Yes, that’s right.  This was her dilemma.  Whether or not to use the now clean, previously barfed upon bathroom stall.  I suggested that yes, it was probably clean now.

Ballerina:  I feel there is maybe barf crusted in a crevice somewhere.

RE:  A very real possibility.

In the end, she decided to continue avoiding the barfy stall.

NEXT!

1.  I came home and found that Amazon Claus had delivered my two new HDMI cables.  Love is in the air.  If you don’t know the import of this…well, your vagina is showing.  (kidding…kidding…)

2.  I listened to my voicemails and sure enough, Kristin Chenoweth had left me another message, asking me out.  I hate to keep turning her down but I’m off the blondes.  Well, more or less.  Maybe.

Who the hell knows.  Except that she totally didn’t call me.

But I’m not giving up hope.

3.  Churro eyed the photos I took while at the S&M party at Marche, here.  There were two pictures of two different blondes.  I said we’d each take one and asked which one he wanted.  He looked at me blankly.  I said, “Which one?!“  He said, “That’s like asking me if I’d rather have a million dollars in gold coins or a million dollars in silver coins.”

Touche.

4.  Okay, so, I’m totally not off the blondes.

Whatever.

5.  Speaking of blondes, QTMama IM’d me today and I was reminded of a conversation we had about a week ago.  I was talking to her about relationships and at one point, she said, “You did that? That’s something only men do.“  I paused and then said, “Do what?”  I could practically hear her sigh.

1.  The Italian likes to impersonate his girlfriend’s accent.  This isn’t so bad but he likes to do it while repeating things she said to him in bed. I’ll pick up the phone and he’ll break out in an accent and say, “Ohhh, jess enjoyyyy eet!”  And, I admit, I usually bust out in a laugh.  Earlier in the week, he said, “Ooohhh, do you feeeeeel deee freak-shoooow?”  I said, “Wait,… freak show?”  He said, “Freak-showwwn.”Oh.

Friction.

Dude is just wrong.   Don’t get me wrong.  We laughed at ourselves for a good five minutes.

2.  If you’ve been reading QTMama, you know that she has a crush on “Chicago Man”, a guy she met while visiting Chicago last month.  As it happens, I frequently have occasion to cross paths with Chicago Man and I knew I would be doing so tonight.  I let QTMama know this and before I knew what happened, she was trying to get me to go to a florist to pick up a flower to bring to this dude so I could say it was from her and wasn’t that romantic?

You know what?  Didn’t happen.

3.   I’m going to bed.  While the clock still says ‘p.m.’  It’s the first time in weeks.

1.  I like my job a lot but I think it’s funny that sometimes, I honestly have the cliched thought of, “Thank God it’s Friday.”   I don’t know why that surprises me since it’s such a common sentiment that an entire chain of restaurants is named after it.  Drew Carey said, “Oh, you hate your job? Why didn’t you say so?  There’s a support group for that. It’s called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar.”

2.   I watched the Republican National Convention last night with a group of friends.  When I expressed that I would shag Palin, I got looks of horror.  Now, see here, people, I’m not saying I’d marry the woman.  There’s a general rule:  F*ck down, Marry up.  Okay?  I just wanna shag her a little.  That’s all.  I AM NOT IMMUNE.

3.   Have you ever spent some time with your parents and gotten this brief glimpse of some personality characteristic that you suddenly realize is only going to magnify as they get older?  And it scares the crap out of you?

1.  I love how we can carbon date the Shroud of Turin but can’t figure out how old a couple of Chinese gymnasts are.

2.  The Italian called me on Monday very excited.  It seems he’d found a new porn website that featured Latin women.  I asked him, “If a woman that young and that attractive hit on you, would you sleep with her?”  He said, “If I got a woman that hot, it’d be because she wanted to steal my car.”  I burst out laughing.

3.  ‘Cleavage’ is sort of a harsh sounding word to describe something so good, isn’t it?  Couldn’t someone come up with a better word than something that sounds like you split open a dinner roll?  or chopped something in half?

4.  Besos described our relationship as a constant state of half amusement, half embarrassment.  Hmm.  I wonder which half I am.

5.  Have you ever had someone tell you a sexual fantasy and it was, more or less, one of your sexual fantasies as well?  And you were stunned at your good fortune?  And then you blinked and wondered if you were on some twisted version of Candid Camera?  Anyone?

no?

1. Tomorrow night, I’ve been invited to, and will attend, a tasting at a seafood place. The last tasting I went to I was served 5 appetizers, 9 entrees and 4 desserts. I’m not sure I want to contemplate eating that much seafood. I think shrimp are over-rated. I realize this is blasphemy to some but, there you have it. I am so-so about shrimp. I like scallops and oysters. But here’s the thing with oysters – and mussels, too, for that matter – I sometimes have to not think about the fact that I’m eating its digestive system. Like, the things that were on the way out.

I figure that if the mussel has eaten it and I’m eating the mussel…I’m too high on the food chain to be eating the parts of its food that even it has declared as waste. It’s clearly a matter of how large the animal is and how difficult it is to clean and perhaps how offensive the taste must be – but it still strikes me as odd that at some point, we simply shrug and swallow it down. It’s a little disgusting, quite frankly.

2. I read through the Sleep Quirks comments again. Good God, you guys are a bunch of weirdos. I shouldn’t read them a third time or I’ll start trying half of them just to see how they feel.

3. As I walk to work, I often watch the feet of the people in front of me. The women in their heels avoiding the grates, etc. Okay, so maybe I’m looking at some of the legs attached to the heels since it is summer. But I’ve noticed something that only men seem to do. Some guys bounce up on to the balls of their feet, lifting their heel, immediately after taking a step. As a result, they appear to bounce along as they walk. It isn’t always dramatic, but their heel leaves the ground long before it is getting ready to take the next step. Women never seem to do this. Probably because it looks a little stupid.

4. I sometimes say some things that I think are ‘sayings’ but may, in fact, just be stupid things I say. Like:

a) Don’t drop your blob.

b) Sleep faster; we need the pillows.

c) She’ll smoke your sausage and eat your cigarettes.

Surely I didn’t make this kind of nonsense up.

1. You may recall the previous entry in which I briefly discussed The Italian’s gratitude toward someone who helped his girlfriend pick out a certain something for her to wear. There was some natural curiosity about what exactly this outfit was. I couldn’t figure it out from the description he gave me so today, while we were on the phone, he found it online and sent me the link. I opened it up and looked at the picture. And then I said to him, “You. Fucking. Lucky. Bastard.”

Calling it an outfit is accurate. Because…parts of it were cut out. And the rest of it was see-through.

Bastard.

2. I sent flowers to Besos on Friday. Her reaction? She called me and sing-songed, “Youuuu liiiike meeeee.” It made me want to laugh and pull out my hair at the same time.

I told The Italian that I sent her flowers. He was shocked. He said, “You sent her flowers?! Flowers are a declaration. And it ain’t the declaration of independence.”

Bastard.

3. The other day, Besos said to me, “I have big feet.” Unless a girl’s feet are slapping around like clown shoes, I am unlikely to notice or care. I had never thought her feet were big so I was unsure how to respond. I mean, she doesn’t look like she’s going to topple over or anything but I’ve also never looked at her and thought to myself that it would take a pretty healthy gale to tip her over, either. I just don’t notice these things.

Today, she sent me a text message: “I also have a big head. You might want to trade me in for a smaller model.” She’s 5’4″. How big can her head be? Here is our exchange:

RE: “Oh yeah? Trade you for someone with a smaller head and smaller feet?”

Besos: “Exactly.”

RE: “I’ll take out an ad.”

Besos: “Oh.”

RE: “Yeah, I thought about it some more and I’m just going to deal with your big noggin. But we’re going to lop off your feet. That seems like a good compromise.”

Besos: “Hey! But they are pretty.”

RE: “Okay, you can keep the feet and we’ll just lop off the toes.”

Besos: “Okay…I guess.”

See? I am solution oriented.

My work on Friday afternoon was diverted with The Italian called me.  And he wished to talk Plush.  So we talked Plush.  Then, he broke out in song.  About Plush.  I told him he should sing to her and, never one to shy from a dare, he said, “Then call her!  Let’s conference her in.”

So I called her.  Mind you, The Italian and Plush have never met.  I said, “I have someone on the other line who wants to say something to you.”  Plush, completely unfazed, said, “Okay!”  So I made the connection and then…then, my friends, The Italian serenaded Plush with…Brandy.  As in, “Plush, you’re fine girl, what a good wife you would be! But my life, my love and my lady is the sea.”

Seriously.

Plush laughed and complimented his singing.  This was generous of her because Plush…well, suffice to say that Plush can sing.  Then I told the Italian that he should sing the theme song from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air (one of his favorite things to do).  He asked her to sing along.  Did I mention that Plush was at the gym and on the ab machine?  Yeah.  So I pointed my handy Treo at the phone and recorded it as they both sang the entire song…The Italian while driving and Plush while doing crunches.

These two must never meet.  Complete chaos would ensue.  However, it is hopeless to wish some things never to come to pass because the Italian is coming to Chicago to visit this summer and I know he will not rest until he has a dose of Plush.

Prepare thyself, Random.

1. I told a friend today I was going to hell. His response? “Upgrade to first class so we can sit next to each other.”

2. If a girl shows you the massive bug bite on her swollen, red thumb, you should say, “Whoa, that looks painful! Does it hurt?”

You should not say, “Might as well get that cut off now. Spare yourself the agony of watching it rot off.”

That is what you should not do.

3. I had lunch with Instigator today. I paid. You know why? Because she was wearing a skirt and put on lipstick. I’m a simple creature. I believe there will be a party at Instigator’s place in August. Getting invited is like scoring an invite to the Oscars. I asked if there would be a swag bag. She said yes, we’d have to bring one in order to get into the party.

4. I mis-text a lot. Please tell me I’m not alone. I’ll send a text message and then realize I sent it to the completely wrong person. It isn’t entirely my fault. It’s how my phone stores text messages. But…yeah, not so smooth.

5. I had the chance of meeting Ms. Single Mama last night but circumstances prevented it. Circumstances being United Airlines. Which sucks.