Archive for the ‘Life’ Category
That is Not a Compliment
Sunday, August 23rd, 2009
Over time, people have said things to me which they think are nice things to say, but are not. Perhaps these people suffer from a lack of perspective, or context, or vocabulary. In any event, they should know better. If they don’t, they should read this and any future posts about this topic (as I’m sure this will keep happening.)
Enjoy these initial examples. (Misery loves company.)
-”That was nice. Were you happy with that performance?” (after one of my band’s shows)
-”Your new hair looks a lot like Ashlee Simpson’s.” (That was today. The wound is still fresh.)
-”I’ve always preferred full-figured girls like you.”
-”That’s neat how you’re wearing that as a dress.”
-”Wow. That joke was, um, emotional. It kinda looked like you were gonna cry up there.”
-”I just love how your whole attitude toward life is, like, ‘I just don’t care.’ ”
*Also, anything preceded by “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…”
STOP saying things like this. They are not pleasant.
Just a friendly reminder from Miss Meaux, Manners Maven.
Say nicer things, please.
Tags: Ashlee Simpson, band, cry, dress, full-figured, hair, I care, I care a lot, I'm a Care Bear, it is a dress, laugh, not a shirt, shirt
Posted in Ex Life, For Reals, Life, People on the Train, Technique | No Comments »
I know my drugs. Don’t ask me how.
Monday, July 6th, 2009
I woke up congested. The kind of congested that makes you unrecognizable. This is probably because I thought it would be brilliant to leave my windows open overnight instead of using A/C. This is a great idea in, say, Iowa. Stupid idea when you’re 100 feet from the WTC site and about 11 other construction sites.
All day, my gay wanted to shop for cologne, of all things. I couldn’t stop sneezing. Finally, I convinced him he had to try the cologne at C.O Bigelow, that way I could get some pills from the pharmacy in the back.
Backstory: My parents met when they worked as pharmacists in a hospital. I was raised in a prescription-only pharmacy they later opened. I learned to count with a pill-counter, my real-world first word was Actifed, and I would make sugar pills for fun after school. So, I kind of know drugs and know what I want in my drugs.
I asked the C.O. Bigelow pharmacist all about each of the decongestants. I figured since the place was a little fancy, a little old-timey, they might carry some things that other drugstores wouldn’t. Some discontinued strong stuff. I asked if they had the original version of Sudafed, and how many milligrams of pseudoephedrine was in the other allergy-relief pills they carried. I drop a couple other cool words like “contraindicated” and “post-nasal.”
I thought I sounded, at worst, annoying. At best, well- informed. However, I slowly started to realize he thought I was a methhead. He was asking all the classic “Ask a methhead” questions, like what my symptoms were, if I had identification, what state I lived in, etc.
I really wanted to bust balls and play along. Start scratching and picking at my hair. Asking where the batteries were. But, methheads are sad, and not “Sad Panda sad,” so the softie in me won and I didn’t make funnies about drug addicts…this time.
Being that I’m not the edgiest person on Earth, though, it was a little fun knowing this guy thought I was committing a crime. For 3-4 minutes, someone thought I was a badass. I’ll take my thrills where I can get ‘em.
Meth stuff aka Central Florida Stocking Stuffers
Tags: drugs, kids and drugs, labs, meth, meth labs, methheads, nose, pharmacy, pills, Sudafed
Posted in Bodily Functions, For Reals, Geniuses, Ha, Life | No Comments »
Sad Panda Sadness
Monday, July 6th, 2009
Some things are sad. Some things are “Sad Panda sad.” “Sad Panda sad” is an adorable kind of sad. The kind of sad that still makes the corners of your mouth turn up, just so. Such was the week I didn’t have toilet paper.
I ran out of tp, and put “buy more tp” on my mental list of things to do. My mental list also includes: ways to eat more protein while eating less food, witty yet disarming things I’ll say to Ryan Gosling when we finally meet, the names of our kids, people to leave out of my Emmy/Oscar/Grammy acceptance speeches because they suck, and a reminder to check and see if there’s an Olympic sport in which my flexibility would be considered a winning asset…other than gymnastics. Point is, when things get on my mental list, they can easily get lost.
So, hour after hour, I forgot to buy toilet paper. I though about going green, and using cloth napkins, but was quickly disgusted by the thought. (For the record, I think cloth diapers are gross too. ) “What did you use to cleanse your bits?,” you ask. Naturally, I used “Sleek Sensation Cleansing & Makeup Removal Wipes.”
I bought these for the times when I’m too lazy to actually wash my face. The wipes feel and seem a lot like baby wipes, so I figured, “What’s the harm?” The package says they’re “ophthalmogically and dermatologically tested.” I figured, if they’re good for the face, they’re good for my gander.
So I used them, and used them well. I intended daily to go get toilet paper, but still kept forgetting. I guess deep down, I just didn’t have a sense of urgency about the situation. (I suppose I’d wiped away my sense of urgency with aloe and chamomile, with panthenol for tissue repair.) Plus, it seemed kind of indulgent to use these wipes where the sun don’t shine. It’s a recession. I’ll take luxury where I can get it.
Then I finally ran out of the wipes, and I had to get my self together and head to a CVS. I went to the cabinet where I store my shopping bags, and in there were 8 rolls of super-soft, thick TOILET PAPER. They’d been there the whole time.
Sign # 8736 that my life is Sad Panda Sad. (If I wasn’t me, I’d adopt me. To save me from myself.)
Tags: 8 rolls, forgetful, front to back, ingenuity, panthenol, sensation, sensational, skin, sleek, Terence Howard, tested, toilet paper, wipes, wiping
Posted in Bodily Functions, Geniuses, Ha, Life, Technique | 1 Comment »
The 1st Ever Punching
Saturday, May 23rd, 2009
To all of you who came out to the very Punch Your Face Open Mic at Brick NYC, in person and in spirit, many thanks and hugs and kisses. The comics who cam out were great and I’m pretty sure I peed my pants a little. Jason Burke (www.punchingllamas.com) was an amazing host and when you swing out to the next installment of the mic, June 2 at 7pm, you can experience the madness for yourself! Again, come out ! 7pm! June 2! Brick NYC! Warren and Church! I’ll stop with the exclamation points now.
This woman died laughing.
Posted in Life, Uncategorized | No Comments »
Won’t get too smart
Sunday, May 10th, 2009
I am a public radio nerd. Huge. I subscribe to 12 PRI or NPR podcasts, I get my morning news from NPR only. I listen to probably 15 hours of NPR per week. I almost get too smart for my own good each week, but I keep myself in check with regular doses of reality TV. I don’t watch because I necessarily want to, but because I have to. I can’t get any smarter. It could be dangerous.
I Love BBC Radio...and VH1
Anyway, having watched at least a couple episodes of almost every reality show, I felt it would be helpful to kind of de-brief every so often…in the form of Haiku.
The Hills
Hate Heidi and Spencer?
Why? They embody true love
Joint self-promotion
Real Housewives of Orange County
Orange skin outside
Orange pulp for brains and soul
Un-be-weave-able
Millionaire Matchmaker
Money can’t buy love
Monet can not turn this off
Rich nerds make me laugh
Rock of Love Bus
All fake hair fake tans
Even on the once cool Bret
Ev’ry rose has fail
For the Love of Ray-J
Ray-J’s mom said no
Ray-J’s wang said yes to all
Brandy still looks odd
Gotti’s Way
Irv Gotti cheats much
His wife needs to break away
The man is a nut
Daisy of Love
Who are you people?
Who the hell are you people?
This show hurts my eyes
Real Housewives of New York
Upper East Side yuk
Brooklyn wackos are my fave
Weird ,yes, but they’re real
Make Me a Supermodel
Skim soy milk only
Modeling makes the boys cry
Walking is hard! Waaaaaaah!
American Idol
Eyeliner gives edge
to boy who gives head to boys
Go theatre geeks!
Tough Love
Love is tough on girls
Lisp Dude will show them the way
Then go home to mom
Tags: Bravo, bret michaels, bus, faiku, gross, haiku, hard bodie, hard boobies, heidi, herpes, herpes simplex, inplants, modeling is hard, models, Patti Stanger, reality, reality tv, rock of, speidi, spencer, spray tans, tans, wang, weaves
Posted in Life, Uncategorized | No Comments »
False alarms piss me off
Thursday, February 26th, 2009
I am so tired right now. “Why?” you ask? Well, just as I was packing up to leave the office at 12:45am, I get a text from a friend I’ve known since college.
(We’re pretty close, talk almost daily.) Text was as follows:
“OMG. I AM IN (name of luxury hotel) IN MIDTOWN IN (NAME OF G-LIST CELEBRITY/MEDIA EXECUTIVE)’s ROOM. SAVE ME.”
NOT anything you would take lightly coming from a longtime friend. So, I call her to see if she’s ok. I text her to see if she’s ok. 4 attempts. Zero responses.
So, I call the (NAME OF LUXURY HOTEL) , and ask for (NAME OF G-LIST CELEBRITY/MEDIA EXECUTIVE)’s room. He answers and I say, in an English accent, “This Anami. I am calling
to talk to (FRIEND) about her cat. I am her cat sitter.”
I figured that the fact that I was using an English accent and referencing a cat would
peak her interest. She has a cat, and knows that I often use this accent.
I hear muffled voices and then he tells me that she can’t talk to me.
Now, there’s a reason why I didn’t use my name. I figured, if he hears my name and sees it several times on her phone, he’d know I was onto him and speed up the process of whatever evil he was going to commit. I used to be a prosecutor. I’ve heard it all.
I call back again (same accent, same story.) This time, he yells at me, “How did you get this number?!” I responded, “It’s a hotel! It’s listed! Now let me talk to (FRIEND)! Her cat is sick!” Muffle muffle muffle. (FRIEND) comes to the phone. “Hey, (FRIEND)! This is Monet! Are you ok? What the hell?
Why haven’t you texted me back?!!!! How the hell did you end up there?!!!!!”
She says to me, “Who is this? I don’t have a cat! Who are you, you asshole! Quit bovverering me arloguhearlunytaiweutyhaliuhbvaleiub” (She went completely incoherent at the end.)
This was it. In my mind, he’s drugged her and nothing good is gonna go down. Monet goes into attack/rescue mode. I contact the tallest guy I know, the guy I know that’s most likely to have a gun, and a guy that boxes. I figure between one of them, we can kick this guy’s ass.
I was not about to be the person the NY Post throws on the front page with the headline “Woman Speaks to Incoherent Friend Hours Before Her Murder and Did Nothing About It.”
Before any one of my potential goons could reply, (FRIEND) calls. “I am shoooo shorry. Jooo hate me?! I dinna know it wush you! Shhhooooo shorry.He’s my friend!”
I laid into her drunk ass. “So, I’ve known you this long and you never bother to tell me you’re friends with (NAME OF G-LIST CELEBRITY/MEDIA EXECUTIVE)!” Then I berated her as only I can, and I can be evil.
Basic rule of electronic communication: never send a text, in all caps, indicating a location,
perpetrator name, and “SAVE ME.” That is the text equivalent of SOS or emergency flares!
A good friend will see that, and put the wheels of vengance in motion.
(FRIEND), I love you, but I hate you today.
Her friend ignored the text.
Posted in For Reals, Life | 1 Comment »