On the CD player: Soundtrack to "Duets" crooning from my loft bedroom of the apartment. On deck: Soundtrack to "Sliding Doors." Couple that with the shiraz and the sweatpants that feel like home while making my ass look cute, and there's no doubt that tonight, we're having A Night. One of those Nights that require some introspection, maybe a laugh and a cry, painting toenails, reading a book, re-evaluating where I am and where I am going, and who and what is important.
One piece of banana-chocolate bread
Two hot dogs, complemented with a glass of Yellow Tail shiraz
Half a piece of light white American cheese
I shared the other half of that piece of cheese with Fernando. Fernando is the downstairs' neighbor's cat, a beautiful and very friendly cat that has taken quite a liking to me. He was dubbed "Fernando" by my dear friend who helped me move in. He doesn't have tags, so we had to make up a name. Fernando's given name is "Thug's Life" and is actually a female. I could call her "Fern" for short. But that's a stupid name for a cat. As is Thug's Life. So she remains Fernando. She sneaks in behind me when I come in the house. She's snuck in my third story window before as well. I would love to let her come hang out inside with me, and would totally take her as my own, if 1. I didn't have roommates and 2. she didn't belong to the landlord's son. So, Fernando and I continue to conduct our illicit affair, and today when I kicked her back outside in the rain, I wooed her with cheese. Hope she isn't lactose intolerant.
this Night is brought to you courtesy of Mr. Maybe.
Dear Mr. Maybe:
Thank you for finally responding to my emails, particularly my question as to whether you still wanted me to stay with you. I'm sorry to hear that since we last discussed the issue, you believe you will be out of town for my visit at the end of the month. I appreciate your suggestion that we meet for a drink if you do, however, find yourself in town. To that, I say: Not likely, asshole. Thank you for not revealing your shallow, self-centered, social-climbing aims earlier. I will be sure to call you the next time I need you to further my own aims, as you have so kindly done for me.
Sincerely, (not a word you recognize? Ok, then we'll try)
Resolutions aren't just for New Year's anymore. Every once in a while, we find ourselves in the position to re-evaluate. These positions generally arise from an event that changes the cadence of one's day, when one finds oneself lacking the desire to drown one's sorrows in the company and wine of others, and has some down time to sit in The Sweatpants nursing a bottle of cheap shiraz while mowing down some hot dogs. One of the great things about New You's is that they are things that have needed some work for a while - sanding down some rough spots, patching up some chipped off parts - but suddenly, the energy to fully commit oneself to these changes comes around via some catalyst, and so after a frenzied mental, spiritual, social, physical, and frequently literal housecleaning, the piece that just chipped off or the rough edge that seemed to develop are resolved, or accepted, or covered with a doily.
With one distraction down, I'm left with just a few very time-consuming distractions. First, the Red Sox. The agony of playoffs is here. Additionally, I have no idea what to do with my time apres c'est finit (finis?). Secondly, (this will probably edge to first after the Red Sox are finished, which could be any day now) I need to get myself employed.** Thirdly, I need to continue working on my health. Healthy eating, re-structuring my workout, drinking more water, flossing, getting regular haircuts and manicures. Fourth, I will read more books. Fifth, I will take better care of my car and my debt.
** I got another interview today!
Womanofthelaw's Vital Stats for October 15, 2004:
13 Resumes sent total
4 interviews scheduled
0 books read
Oh no. This Night may have just been derailed. I'm being told that friends are going out. But they do not like the Red Sox, and the game is on in 45 minutes. I will shuffle over with my wine and sweatpants. if the plans suit me, I will go. If they don't, then I don't.
Update: went out. regretted it. walked back home in the rain.