W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> Moi, Toi, et VoI: July 2006

Sunday, July 30, 2006

Adventures on Match.com Episode #346645a.12z

Actual message from Deliman4325:

I'll trade u a hoagie for a chocolate cupcake.

Actual message from me to BrazilianGy871:

Just curious, but wondering why you Photoshopped a muscle shirt on your pix?

Actual response:

Hi Chick

Yeah thnx. your curious is done Ok . Match didn't accept my pics and so photoshop them on? Why don't you want children ? I'm just curious ( now you can make fun of me ....lol lol )
Take care and have great weekend




Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Someone Wake Me Up and Tell Me It's All A Bad Dream.


My current options via Match.com:

1. Guys with necklaces.
2. Guys with chest hair exposed.
3. Guys with chest hair exposed while in a hot tub.
3. More guys with 'Philly' in their username.
4. Fat guys with goatees.
5. Fat guys with goatees and no hair.
6. Guys looking for 'the perfect partner for me and my children'.
7. Guys who like 'candelight and walks in the rain'.
8. Guys who don't like Power.
9. Guys who can't spell.
10. Guys who don't read. Anything.

Thank god for Hendrick's.

Monday, July 24, 2006

Going, Going...


I have two phrases stuck in my head today:

1. "Husker Du". No, not any particular Husker Du song, just the phrase "Husker Du". And I didn't even know it was also a popular Norwegian tv show until I read about it on Wikipedia.

2. "By Grabthar's Hammer!". Not a clue where the hell that came from. Haven't seen that movie in ages. And it's not just plain old 'By Grabthar's Hammer.' It's 'BY GRrrabthaahhr's Hammmahhhrrr!' with a mental fist in the air.

I am going mental. It must be the sheer exhaustion from manning The Canary by myself today save for the very precious couple of hours with Mr. Rasputina's Skcubrats Mercenary. Nothing that a little E! and Aussie Hobo Vino (AHV) can't cure. Later.

Sunday, July 23, 2006

O.F.F.S. Redux

Argh! Gah! Murrgghh! Oy!

Poor Rasputina is stuck in Boston with car trouble and I am completely baker-less come Monday morning.

(Oh yeah, I had to re-fire Baker #2 for two-times drunkenness. I tried to be a compassionate, forgiving person who likes to give people another chance. Chance #3, however, just wasn't in the cards.)

Mr. Rasputina is trying to drum up a mercenary for a couple of hours tomorrow, but I still haven't heard back from him. Nor the other two Canary people who could possibly pinch hit. I am so screwed. This basically means I will not be able to pee for the entire day. God help me.

But on a good note, I am currently enjoying some fabulous cheese that the cheesewenches at The Circus slipped my way. Wanna sample? I've got an aged dry goat, a d'affinois - the most buttery-deliciousness brie-like substance you will ever enjoy in your life, a firm trappist cheese made by German nuns with a rind made with walnuts somehow, and a blue brie.

A blue brie! There is a god.

And a multigrain boule from Metro that is now gone. Tant pis! May have to head down to the WaWa for some Ritz, but whatever.

Life is good. But I still need some Twizzlers.

And for a chortle...more cat pix. Thanks Jasclo.

Saturday, July 22, 2006

Oh For Fucks Sake.

I got my first Match.com 'Hey You Two Are Compatible!' email.

And if friggin' Blogger would let me post a .tiff, I'd put the pic on here...but it won't, so you'll have to just picture this:

A PICTURE OF A JACKASS IN A FREAKIN' SOMBRERO that says [something] 'FROG' on it. And he's drinking something through a straw. And it's next to a picture of me! GAHH!

And without giving away the poor bastard's username identity, let's just say his moniker is something along the lines of 'StpdAsshl' - if Dr. Phil would allow such a thing. I'm. So. Not. Even. Kidding.

And while we're on the subject, someone expert in such things please explain the following to me:

1. Why do so many guys use 'Philly' in their username, e.g. 'PhillyGuy42' or 'NwGyinPhilly'?
2. Are these people so unoriginal that they must pick a username that 672 people have already taken, like 'Phillyguy673' or 'Jake42' or 'Lumpy62'?

(Lumpy62? You mean to tell me there are already 61 other Lumpys? God help us. God help us all.)

3. Why the disproportionate number of guys into SCUBA? I just don't believe that this many men in Philly are SCUBA divers. Do they think that SCUBA is somehow alluring? If you admit to being a semi-couch potato it's fine, boys. Most ladies aren't professional divers or rock scramblers by trade. We just watch about that shit on Bravo.

4. Why did I do this again? Someone please remind me.

I've been 'winked at' about a dozen times in the last 24 hours. Mostly by fat guys with goatees who 'don't want to be lonly [sic] any longer' or who 'aren't picky about women'...GAH. (Thanks, GG. Good word. Let's petition to add that sucker to Oxford as soon as we get the chance...)...

[Audible sob. Audible gulp of cab sav].

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Where's Andre?

Who cares? Season Three is in full force!

Rasputina and I caught up on last night's Project Runway tonight over Bluecoat g&t's at her house. The next few months are gonna be a doozy!

My Two Cents: I love Laura's style. I would totally buy that awesome coat she made on Episode 1 on supersale at Off Fifth without batting an eye. Not as fond of that bathing suit dress she made for Miss USA, but collaborations almost always suck...

Except for that stunning dress that Keith and Bradley designed. Wow. Gorgeous.

Have I mentioned that I practically go dizzy and nearly drool on the floor every time Keith pops up on the screen? Good god, he's a less prissy, rough cut version of Jude Law. Yum. Seriously. And even sexier, the dude knows how to design garments for women. Even though he claims he's never designed a dress in his life prior to the apartment pillaging episode.

OK, Vincent cracks me up. He's like an LA version of Woody Allen, if you can imagine it. (And can I just mention for the record that I wish I could hunt down the person who did those headshots of Vincent and hire them to do my Match.com picture because they guy looks relatively normal...)

Kayne and Robert's dress was hideous, but they knew something the rest of us didn't. If anyone could get inside the head of Miss USA, it would have to be the Pageant Designer and the Barbie Doll Dress designer.

I could blather on and on, but I'll stop for now. I'll have plenty to say about The Others next week.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Product Review: Revlon Colorstay Overtime Lipcolor.

Shade: #56 Continuous Rouge
Price: $9.99, CVS
Stars: ***

Tired of crouching down behind the cabinets during working hours to apply my lipstick twelve times a day, I decided to give one of these newfangled semi-permanent lipsticks a shot.

I am very pale. As are my lips. And if I had to choose one item of make-up to take on a desert island, or to prison, perhaps, I’d take lipstick. The only problem is that I need to keep putting that shite on constantly. Otherwise I am deathly pasty again in minutes. And that ain't pretty.

OK, so you need to be very very careful with this stuff. Once you put it on and it dries, it is on for hours. So don’t screw up, or you’ll look like Joan Crawford having a crappy day. All day long.

Did it hold up for eight hours? No, but it stayed on pretty well for about four. And then the magic started to happen. The color on the inner part of my lips started to wear off while a nice bright Continuous Rouge outline stayed on nice and fresh on the outside. And when you’re not going for that Deep Brooklyn-BabbyDaddy-Christina Aguilera look this can be a problem. So then I had to keep putting on my old standby lipstick to keep the monotone color. Of course, I hadn’t thought to bring #56 with me because fuck! This fucker should last eight hours – and besides when it does wear off, it will wear like normal lipstick, right?

Wrong. You kinda do start to look a little scary if someone isn't there to tell you so (Thnx, Rasputina! You're My Savior!)

Oh, and did I mention this stuff smelled faintly of acetone when I put it on? And that you have to use ‘an oil-based make-up remover’ to get it off? I’m not even sure turpentine would do the trick.

BUT it did stay on for quite a while. So for that, kudos to you, Revlon. Even if I do wind up developing some horrid chemical allergy to this stuff, I’ll consider it the proper price to pay for not having to deal with The Crouch Behind the Cabinet Anymore.



Monday, July 17, 2006

Match.com Redux.

I'm toying with the idea at least.

Funny thing is I don't have an issue with online dating. In fact, I know lots of people who've met their SOs on sites, and it's totally cool. And with the only viable prospect of late being Mindfuck ala Royale (Yeah, it was a guy. Duh.) who came around The Canary last week to purportedly 'check his cellphone reception' (???), I figure why the hell not at this point. We'd run into each other at a barbecue the Sunday before and apparently the hangover I'd feigned made me hot or something because all of the sudden, there he is, checkin' in and sayin' hi....Whatever, dude. Hmmm...though the fact that our houses are 20 yards apart and he is still pretty cute...hmmm...never mind....

For me, the trepidation is more about the profile. The idea of creating a profile about myself that essentially sells me is a very very uncomfortable idea. I'm the sort of person who's pretty much what you see is what you get, though once you know me and I'm comfortable enough with you, I'd like to think you'll get a little bit more of me. So, the thought of having to expose those parts of me that I reserve for people who know me isn't exactly natural. Or appealing.

And let's not even get into the picture. The fuckin picture. Blecgh. Obviously I have body/face issues and having to post a picture of myself is perhaps the most nauseating aspect of this whole endeavor. Superficial? Yes, incredibly so. Sure. But hell, isn't looking at the fricking picture the first five seconds of the Match.com experience? For real?

So, the thing to do, clearly, is to get drunk and create a profile. With a friend I can trust of course. Yeah, that's the ticket. Look out Boys of Philly...HA.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Sadness is Anger Turned Inward.

Tonight a friend had to confront another friend about some shit and she was wicked nervous about the prospect of having to deal.

I understand this feeling completely. How do y'all gear up for these things?

There was this guy in college, The Irish Tenor, who had a bizarre love square going on...(dating three girls who all knew each other at the same time...it was an impossible, horrible situation that was just not going to turn out well...for anybody. Stupid stupid Irish Tenor. Remember that folly, Dax? Umm, AWKWARD!). Anyway, the way that he got up the courage to dump Girl #1 was to turn on a wee bit of Pantera, get plastered and punch a hole through the wall to get his endorphins going.

Personally, my M.O. is to chainsmoke six cigarettes, flip on some Israeli trance, attempt to think out every possible scenario between myself and Person in Conflict, and then chainsmoke six more cigs. And then depending on the type, level, and length of conflict, either take a) some calmes forte, b) a valium or c) a shot of whisky immediately prior to said confrontation. Of course I'm never actually prepared for the real scenario no matter how much thought and substance I put into my end of the situation and I usually end up either hemming and hawing or I give in to the other person even though I'm kicking myself inside my head for not sticking to my guns and being a person who stands up for myself.

I'm such a pushover. I should be the last person in the world giving advice about standing up for oneself. Forget everything I told you, XXXXX. Except for the Tom Collins part.

Monday, July 10, 2006

On Tour...?

Good god, four shows in a week! This crazy rock star lifestyle is going to kill me, I swear it.

Saturday I went down to Maryland to hang out with The Coolest Member of The World's Best Band...fun fun! Excellent seats with the 'other' girlfriends, booze, coke, limos, hookers, the whole kit and kaboodle. I think confession may be in order soon and I'm not even Catholic anymore...!

And then Rasputina strongly encouraged me to come to a show tonight so that she could introduce me to the lead singer (The Harmonica Player....)...ahem... And then...*weird moment that probably occurs once in an average woman's life, like my own*... another guy, Mr. Ibiza DJ, whom she also wanted me to be formally introduced to, shows up at the same time. And they're both standing there talking to me. I was almost dizzy with all of this freakin' attention. The whole scene lasted a whole of 30 seconds but whatever. But anyway, for that there Brief Shining Moment, I. Was. The. Queen. HA.

And Rasputina, for the record, Ibiza was very sweet, but a little too shorn...The Harmonica Player was cute, but I didn't get a chance to talk to him long enough....Though I'm SO OVER the Nice Jewish Boys at the moment.

Friday, July 07, 2006

Match.com

I ditched work early to take advantage of Mr. X's leaving for the weekend so I could have the house to myself. With kitties, cheeses and a bottle of fancy Aussie cab sav somebody gave to me that I was saving for a special occasion. Oh right, and some rough cuts of BSG I scored to savor...

A perfect evening by myself.

I was hunting around the kitchen for a light and noticed an empty box of matches from Blue Hill. Mr. X and I have had a match collection for years. We've got a vaseful of matches from different places either one or both of us has visited over the course of our relationship. On occasion, one of us would be in a pinch and use a match from the collection though technically, forbidden.

I started using up those matches long before he did. A match here and there. But never a full box.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Hair of the Dog.

Murrrggghhhhrrrgghhh....

Not the best way to start a post, but I feel like I'm getting out of the habit having been off The Internets for the past couple of days.

So I better write something....

Not feeling so hot today. I'm maxing out my rotting 31 year old body. Sad really. Tuesday I took J to New York to the Belles show. It didn't take much to talk him into coming with me. The chance to ogle cute Scottish boys was just too tempting. J has the most severe case of Anglophilism Ever Documented. Ever. I swear it. Stuff for textbooks. Frightful really. Anyway, we got back to the train precisely one minute before it was headed back to Philly. Got in at midnight, got up to go to work at 6:30 to bake cupcakes.

Turned out J was also going to the Hidden Cameras show at the Unitarian Church last night so we met up again, but this time with three other people and 6 quarts of lager* in paper bags. The lager was probably the big mistake. More likely it was the paper bags. I don't know. All I can tell you is that this morning I wished I didn't have a head because that sucker hurt. Oy.

I went into work late so I could talk to my lawyer and came back to The Canary to find Neil Young standing 30 feet from me schilling for Farm Aid in that ridiculous hat he always wears. I almost blamed my horrible hangover on him, but I think I remember reading somewhere that the guy cleaned himself up since fathering Melissa's baby. So it couldn't have been the vicarious, invisible fumes.

So when I came home from work tonight, I did the appropriate thing and went straight to The Sidecar to chitchat with Sidecar A...

*In Philly, 'lager' refers to Yuengling, a local beer. As if there's only one lager in the world! WTF?! Thinking themselves The Center of the Universe is such a Manhattan trait. For shame, Philadelphia!

Monday, July 03, 2006

Friendsterism.

*
One of the shittiest aspects of divorce is the fact that you split your friends in the settlement.

Mr. X and I have known each other since college. We've got a small group of friends with whom we've kept in touch over the years. Most of us have remained on the East Coast and we always manage to see each other at least annually and keep in touch.

Over the course of this situation, there have been some people in this group who have taken sides, which is actually pretty weird because for all intents and purposes, this breakup is surprisingly amicable. One couple in particular has decided to 'align' themselves with Mr. X entirely. I have been taken off any and all lists for social events that they host. And in all honesty, it doesn't really bother me because it doesn't surprise me. For two people who believe themselves to be the most liberal, open-minded human beings on the planet, they are exceptionally judgmental. Basically, if you're not as liberal and as open-minded as they are, well, then you are an ignorant boor. Whatever. No loss there.

But there's another friend who I'm really disappointed has chosen to take sides. At least I think he's taken sides. I invited him to a show in NYC (where he lives) about a month ago because we have similar tastes in music and thought it would be an easy and fun way to catch up. He ignored my calls and emails on that one. Fine. He's got a job that requires extensive travel, maybe he was just flaky and never called me back, etc. etc.

But I got an invite to another show in NYC - one that I know he would kill to go to - so I called and emailed him to see if he wanted to come. Nothing. No response.

It hurts to be dissed like this. Especially by someone whom you really didn't think would be so partial. Frankly, I'm surprised he's taken sides. Ironically, Mr. X is too and isn't pleased with him at the moment. He's a good guy that way.

Do people need reminding that no one, under any circumstances (barring the obvious abusive ones of course), has a right to judge what goes in anyone else's bedroom? Don't people realize that relationships are too complicated to simply make a yes/no right/wrong decision about something that they only know a tiny bit about?

It makes me sad to lose people I thought were friends over this. But I guess those people who aren't going to stick by both of us aren't really true friends after all. Kind of sucks to realize that at a time when your friends are most vital to your sanity.

Kind of sucks indeed.

But interestingly enough, My Crazy Psychic said that this was going to be a period in my life when new friendships were coming in and some of the old ones needed to die quietly. I think she said this shit was going to go on through September. Sigh!

* This picture has nothing to do with the post other than to provide an element of levity.

In The News This Morning.

1. L'il Kim has been freed! Now Philadelphia really has a reason to celebrate tomorrow night. I think we can all sleep a little better knowing that justice has been served, a debt to society paid and that The System works.

2. Nick and Jessica's divorce was finalized over the weekend. ...and Philly ladies, One Hot Available Rebound-Riddled Crooner is singing on the Parkway tomorrow...!

3. Turkey boy was fired for getting into a(nother) fight with his lady-friend coworkers. The Circus hasn't been the same since.