Gah.
So yesterday.
I had a meeting with one of my new coworkers in my new position. Without going into big details, essentially I will be working with a small team but it will be on a very visible account for the conglomerate, not just our segment of the business. That’s scary. You trip and everyone will see it, but then at the same time, it can be very prestigious. Luckily, I totally think I can kick ass because I kick ass at my job now and it’s melding my current position and the knowledge from my previous position quite nicely. And it means that I’ll likely go to New York.
Oh. And part of my job will involve surfing the web.
YEAH BABY!
Oh, yeah, well, not for fun stuff. Certainly not porn, which might be fun. Although I can see that it would get old’ porn, again? This would be researching products, so it would be almost like shopping.
Then I casually asked, ‘So would all of our brokerages be based out of New York?’ And the answer was that most of them are, but one is based out of San Francisco and another is based out of’.
‘.London.
(insert high pitched girlie excitement scream the likes of which has not left my mouth since I thought I saw Shawn Cassidy when I was 8)
Surfing the Internet and traveling to NYC AND possibly my favorite city in THE WORLD. I already understand their Tube system. I already have the appreciation for the English breakfast. I understand that I need to Look Right. I mind the gap. It’s all good, baby. I can just see myself the first time someone from that brokerage house calls in. I’ll be like ‘You want your password reset? Hmmm’ you know, this is really hard for me to visualize over the phone. I think I’m going to need to see your system in person. Let’s see’ I can be there in fourteen hours.’
ROCK!
My life is so awesome sometimes. I suppose it’s the ying to the pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen sink that can never seem to get washed or the way that my ass frightens young children and people of certain religions.
They think I’m Ganesha, you see.
I’d make that a link but if you haven’t ever heard of that rather obvious reference, you can just as well go to Google and look it up for yourself. And maybe look up a few other things too while you’re at it. Might I suggest that you find out who shot Liberty Valence, who flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest, and what ever did happen to Baby Jane. I’m not the only source of pop culture you have out there you know. Now get to work.
And seriously, let me know if it was Jimmy Stewart’s character or John Wayne’s character who shot Liberty Valance (who, I believe, was played by James Colburn*, forever famous in my mind because he was on the ‘Band on the Run’ album cover. And yes, I did own an album by Wings. Still do, actually. Vinyl. I had a serious crush on Paul McCartney when I was 12. And not the cute lovable Cocker Spaniel-eyed 1963 Paul, either, but rather the feathered hair, undereye circled Linda McCartney-slobbered Paul who was like 40 years old or something. I was realistic. Sure, I would RATHER have had the 1963 Paul, as he was truthfully closer to my age, but I knew that without the luxury of time travel it was not to be. Therefore, I would take the Paul who was old enough to be my daddy. And Linda could live off her lucrative vegetarian meal franchise’.wow’ long interjection!) because I saw this movie in film class when I was a sophomore in college and I bailed most of the way through it to go and chew on the lips of my lead guitarist boyfriend, who lived a block away from the Film Arts building. And now that’s how I pay for it. I still don’t know who shot Liberty Valance.
I suppose I should take my own advice and look it up. But I’m too much of a slacker.
The moral to this story is this, kids: Don’t skip school. And don’t date blonde lead guitarists because chances are, they probably want to wear your clothes and it really sucks when they look better in your little black dress than you do.
Oh my. It’s really evil of me, but it made me laugh and laugh.
Ok, maybe I should explain the lead guitarist. In college, this very cute boy’ well, actually he was 26, so he was probably more of a man’ decided that I was a very cute girl. He liked curvy round kind of girls. This was a huge boost to my ego because I hadn’t yet discovered my inner curvy round sex goddess yet and to have this older, blonde, Mustang-driving HOTTIE thinking that I was all that’ well, it does good things to your self-esteem, let me tell you.
So, he was hot. Yeah. HOT. What is more, the day he decided that he liked me, I looked like absolute schmeng. No makeup, hair in a ponytail, probably a zit or three. He lived above my freshman year roommate Kassandra’s (the beautiful one who looked like a cross between Marilyn Monroe and Madonna) apartment. Leave it to her to live in a house with five guys. So Kassandra tells Guitar Guy that I’m single (I had actually just started dating Esteban back at home, but it was just in the fun stage at that point) and Guitar Guy asks her to call me and find out if I’d be interested. Yeah. In college and still playing the ‘find out if she likes me’ game. Kassandra called me and sent me into a bewildered tizzy. I mean, during my freshman year, I was in a complete boy desert and now in one months time, I had not one but TWO guys expressing interest. It was bizarre!
So we went out on a date, in which he basically took me parking and we drank beer. Very exciting date. He was a good kisser though. Luckily, the Mustang had a stick shift which is a very effective method of birth control and we only kissed.
He was pretty messed up. He then told me about his fingernail fetish. I immediately stopped chewing my fingernails and started painting them. He then broadened his fetish oeuvre and told me about his panty hose fetish and foot fetish. Apparently, he was very turned on by panty hose. Particularly painted toenails wiggling in sheer stockings. I bought a garter belt and started painting my toenails. This was all during the heavy flirtation period. We weren’t ‘going out’. Also, I hadn’t really made a decision about which boy I wanted to be with, Guitar Guy or Esteban. I found out that he was dating someone else too and that pissed me off. Not that he was dating someone else, but that he hadn’t been up front about it and was trying to hide it from me when I had been completely honest about Esteban the entire time. The other girl dumped him and I reluctantly allowed him to worm his way back into my social calendar. My only excuse is that he was a REALLY good kisser. And I had Film Lab every Monday night, where we’d watch a feature length film. I skipped West Side Story, Ran, Do The Right Thing, and some Russian thing because of that boy.
We flirted like that for a while and then it was Halloween. He didn’t have any money for a costume for a party we were going to at the TKE house, I believe. He said that one year, he had borrowed his girlfriend’s clothes and dressed up ‘like a chick’. And he had a pair of pantyhose that his ex-girlfriend had left at his apartment. I said that we could do that again and he could borrow my clothes. He rode his bike to my dorm. I found it a little odd that he was already wearing the pantyhose but I was very na’ve at 19. I dressed him up in my little black dress, a belt, and some pearls.
And then he tented my dress with his chubby.
That’s the thing about dresses. Erections are very hard to disguise. Yeah. That’s all a girl needs. To know that when your boyfriend tells you ‘That’s a nice dress you’re wearing’, he’s thinking that he’d really like to get it off you so he could wear it. He then proceeded to get fresh and it was seriously all Monica Lewinsky/Blue Gap Dress. Except I don’t think Bill was actually wearing the dress at the time of’uh’expulsion.
Have I mentioned that this journal is not meant for readers under the age of 18? Seriously. Go brush your teeth. Don’t forget to floss. I think there’s a Mandy Moore video on TRL right now.
It squicked me out and he knew I was squicked out and felt awkward and left. Removing his pantyhose, he left them in my trash, where I then had to hide them further down in the garbage so that my roommate wouldn’t find them. And need I mention that this involved TOUCHING THEM? No? Well, let me stress that. I had to TOUCH THEM! Well, I think I may have actually used a chopstick.
‘Removing his pantyhose.’ What has this diary come to?
I invited my friend Mary Kaye to come up for the Halloween party so she came up. Guitar Guy had called me and apologized profusely, so I had kind of gotten over my squickiness. I was very openminded. He then promised me that he’d meet us at the party. We both dressed up and went to the party. No Guitar Guy. I called his house and his roommate said he wasn’t home from work yet. Fine. The TKE president started to hit on me but I kept explaining that I was waiting for my boyfriend. I called again and his roommate said he had just left for the party. Still no Guitar Guy. The TKE president asked me for my number. They were giving out prizes based on the number written on the bottom of your beer cup, so I told him ’44’ and walked away. I was so clueless. I could have gone out with Mr. Pre Med, but no, I’m pining away for a lying slacker who worked in a convenience store and was more interested in my girlie accessories than me. (And before I start getting hate mail from pissed off cross dressers, let me clarify that I am not against cross dressing nor was I implying that I wouldn’t date a cross dresser but rather that I think he was more interested in the way that I was a means to an end, rather than being a means to MY curvy round end. And his general attitude was really poor. And he had a really horrible sense of fashion. I mean, if you want to put on women’s clothing, that’s fine, but for God’s sake, you don’t mix stripes and paisley! And he picked a straw hat to wear with the black dress, which was strictly an evening outfit. Puhlease.)
I eventually came to my senses two weeks later (which I discuss in detail at the bottom of this entry) and dumped him properly. The girls in my dorm were aghast. The fat girl dumping the hot lead guitarist of their favorite cover band? It didn’t make sense to them. I only wish that it had stuck the first time. I could never wear that damn dress again.
Ah well. I’m glad that he never got to actually see or touch the naked ‘Bix bodkin.
I really liked that dress.
Gah.
You know, I was gearing up to do a body image rant but damned if Heather Corinna didn’t go and do an incredible job of it already. It’s Here and it’s up for a Diarist Award, so if you dig it or any of the other entries up for a Diarist (there are a couple of Diarylanders up, by the way. I LOVE to see that! You might just find a new favorite read.) and you’ve got a diary, even one that’s inactive but still present on the net, maybe take a moment to vote for something you like.
It stopped raining now, so I’m off to the Farmer’s Market. Hope you have a super weekend!
*Edited to add that I’ve been corrected… Liberty Valance was played by Lee Marvin. I always get him confused with James Colburn, though. I don’t know why. The same way I get Skeet Ulrich and that other guy who looks like Skeet Ulrich confused. Also Vincent D’Onofrio and Jon Favreau. I think they’re the same person. Seriously. Like Andy Kaufmann and Tony Clifton.
