passion...schmassion

Day 10161: my security guys think I’m a whore (and other lessons I learned this weekend)

1. My security guys must think I’m a whore. I come home with a different boy every weekend. Granted, most of my really good friends are guys… but why don’t any girls come over to visit late, late, late at night? It doesn’t help matters either that most times I’ve obviously been drinking (perhaps a little too much) and that I’m really cute and bubbly when I’m drunk.

2. It’s all about the attitude. If you act like you belong, no one really questions you. Friday night’s slick line by-pass at Devil’s trumped by BMW and TN’s own original version of line by-pass where they just walked in through the pearly gates as if they owned the place.

3. If you’re in club and you’ve been drinking, even people you’ve only met once before are your “very bestest friends.” Enuf said. Oh, and I think I met half of Triscuit’s Monkeyco at Devil’s… how very six degrees.

4. The quest for girly-girlness may not be as long, slow, and drawn out a process as I thought. Or at least, the shopping part… Four hours of shopping with TV resulted in the-funkiest-pinkest-coolest-diesel-shoes-that-look-like-ballerina-slippers, a pair of nine west three inch mary janers, jeans that make my legs look “elongated” and work pants that made TV exclaim “Girl, your ass looks sooo good in those pants. You HAVE to buy them…” So I bought them.

5. Neither La Fenice nor Il Fornello is as good as Grazie. Lichee martinis are not supposed to be blue. Nor are they supposed to contain grapefruit juice. Absolut vodka is surprisingly good. Better than Finlandia or Skyy… of course, though, I’m really a Polar Ice, Belvedere or Chopin’s girl. I have to be… *ahem*

6. If you don’t feel like mingling at a wine tasting, and you’re arguing about it with the friend that you went with, it’s not a good idea to compromise on talking to at least one other person, and right away turning to the person standing directly behind you and saying hi. Chances are that he heard your entire argument. Greater chance, also, that he’s a really dry, boring, dull plastics engineer who hates his job and doesn’t have anything witty or insightful to say, and that’s probably why he was standing by himself in the first place. I’m being mean, aren’t I? Sorries…

7. Sometimes it’s okay to ditch the people that you’re supposed to party with. Especially if you can do another slick line by-pass when otherwise, you would have had to wait at least an hour. And especially if they dropped the ball on you and forgot to call you when they left the restaurant. No worries BMW, I’d rather party with us too…

8. Don’t believe your trainer when he claims not to believe in “no pain, no gain.” Because, darn it… you won’t be in pain when you’re doing the exercise, but by God, you’ll be in pain the next day. And the day after. And probably the day after that.

9. Never try to drive on Waterfront Marathon days. You will never get home and will end up sitting in traffic for an hour when it was only supposed to take you 20 minutes.

10. When they say that a wine is “buttery,” it means that it has absolutely no taste on your tongue, but you get a weird stinging sensation in your mouth afterwards. Essences of pear or apple or aged oak are fragments of your imagination. Knowing a lot about wine makes you sound very Fraser-ish-pretentious. And snooty. And snobby… and generally not such a cool person to hang out with. In my opinion. *snort*

11. It is possible to gain ten pounds in a weekend. After all, if you have 35% milk fat cream and you reduce it 50% to make a cream sauce for your spice-encrusted salmon with a side of bok choy and crispy udon, you end up with a 70% milk fat sauce that ends up going straight from your lips to your hips.