My Birthday - January 15, 2005
Experiences were my specialty as a kid. If I was going somewhere to do something, I was going all the way or not going at all. I mentioned my ADHD diet in my last blog. It's true. My parents went all the way with nutrition, unfortunately. I wasn't allowed to have anything sugary. We were Pritikens. We took Shaklee. I could eat raisins sometimes, but only for a treat if I was a good little girl. When I went to my first slumber party I woke the next morning to see a gloriously colored box of Lucky Charms on the kitchen table. I ate two bowls, went home and broke a lamp with my hyper convulsions. Yesterday was my 28th birthday. I didn't feel old, or sad about not being married, or sad about being closer to 30. I just felt like partying and eating a lot of sugar.
I woke to Chloe, The Producer's crotchety old Border Collie, licking the palm of my hand to wake me up. I drank some coffee, and fed my knitting addiction, because if you are going to pick up a hobby you best fucking do it all the way. The Producer took me to a knittery and taught me how. Aside from fucking it is the greatest hobby I ever picked up. I even got to attend the "Rock and Roll Women who Knit" party, and there I picked up a fabulous new saying for when men are shyly dancing around the idea of having sex. A real woman would just yell "SHAG ME WITH HONOR!" Next time you're sitting in your car with a finger-sucking boy, just say these words.
The Producer and I went to buy my birthday present from my sugar-Tucky, the ultimate Faber Castel set of colored pencils I used to drool over in art school. It was exciting. As we drove I kept pulling the kit out of its bag and admiring my array of warm grays and metallics. It was a great moment.The Producer and I decided we wanted to go to a sushi place in the valley. Like all fucking Sushi places, it was closed for that random two-hour period between lunch and dinner.
We drove over the hill into Hollywood to hit up another sushi restaurant. Entourage was filming on a corner, so I assumed we must have been in the midst of Hollywood. It was cool and exciting until I looked ahead and saw Graumann's Chinese Theater. It looks like Epcot Center did the addition. The thing was a fully cast cement Chinese temple with tour busses parked out front and random storm troopers walking around its plaza. Batman waved to me. Mickey Mouse gave us the thumbs up sign to my horror. I hate Mickey Mouse.
The traffic moved at a snail's pace. I got a good look at Hollywood-type people who seem rather normal, just like us. The place wasn't very glamorous. But then again, going to Graumanns and thinking you are getting a full Hollywood experience is like going to BeachFront in South Beach and expecting it to be peopled with lanky brown natives letting their Moo Goo Gaipan spill out of tiny garments. It's not at all like that. The Producer told me that Hollywood is like a working class city. It's all about film production.
The second sushi place we went to was napping as well. We had a furious few minutes of trying to figure out what the fuck these people are doing in the afternoon, buying more fish? Resting? If anyone can answer that question, please email me.
We drove further down the road to the Farmer's market, parked in the shade so that Chloe, who rides in the back seat everywhere because she has separation anxiety, could have a cool spot to nap. We went inside the Farmer's Market, a tribe of stores selling all kinds of goodies, and walked around. I bought chocolate covered graham crackers because I am still not allowed to eat sugar. The Producer and I got Cajun food, sat down and people watched. I saw two different males wearing leather pants. This was shocking to me. They both had thinning long hair with highlights and wore large sunglasses that made them seem like aliens. They spoke very loudly into their cell phones while pounding their pointy-toed leather boots loudly into the pavement.
Many attractive women walked in and out. Unfortunately, the LA type of girl does not really appeal to me. They sort of look like boys with baseballs sewn into their chest. They are very beautiful though, and as I like men as well, I just decided to roll with their hermaphrodite vibe.
The Producer and I then went to a video store to rent "The Country Bears," a brilliant Disney film about a band of bears trying to get their act back together. All of the bears have run out of money and one has even fallen off the Honey wagon. They find this member in a honey bar. He has to pay off his Honey debt to the bar owner (Queen Latifah) in a musical duel between himself and Brian Setzer. Of course he wins. The film is brilliant. I just wished I had a bong with me to enjoy it fully.
We got ready to go out and met up with Kimmy Chi in Santa Monica at a very crowded restaurant. I had many cucumber mint martinis and listened to Kimmy's story about her new flame. She met him through Match.com. He is beautiful and funny, and comes in thirty seconds. The Producer suggested that he "double bag it." She is so wise. Kimmy and Themadcummer decided to call it quits and just be friends, but obviously like each other still. TheProducer, being the sage at the table, told us that we need to be each other's "don't call that man" friends. We should call each other instead of calling "that man."
Tucker's friend JoeyHustle arrived with three other guys. One was a preachy Brit who I will call PreachyBrit. One was a touchy feely married guy who I will call NotGettinAnyatHome, and one was a very nice but rather smelly video game artist who I will call NiceButSmells. The smelly guy left me his coat to put on the back of my chair while the other guys went to the bar to get beverages. This is how we girls discovered his odor.
Kimmy ordered us a chocolate thing, which disappeared at warp speed. We discovered that both Kimmy and TheProducer are working on ideas for a fashion line type thingy. As I am not trendy or stylish I offered my design services and let them discuss the fashion end of it. I don't get fashion. The two of them seem to have an innate sense of it so I'm sure they will do well with it.
We finished dinner and met the boys at the bar. It was very crowded. I was really drunk and being knocked around by little Mexican guys that came from nowhere with trays of coffee and creamer. I was wearing precarious heels, so I decided to get more liquor. I don't know why my brain makes these connections, only that when I have a little liquor in me I need more. I need A LOT.
JoeyHustle told me that I was not allowed to have shots. Dad had already gotten to him. I hate it when Tucker does this, so I begged for Tequila. This was a mistake. Kimmy had a little sip of her shot and I took all of mine and then sat in a chair trying not to puke while blubbering on my cell to Tucker about how I should listen to other people sometimes because they know better. I called "that man." JoeyHustle stole my phone. I was mad at the time, but this was probably a good in the grand scheme of things.
We spent this part of the evening as such: TheProducer and PreachyBrit discussed politics and the cruel nature of Hollywood. Notgettinanyathome kept touching the females in various semi sexual spots, Kimmy and I danced about the bar trying to avoid Nicebutsmells, who was very sweet but smelled like he had two logs of crap jammed into his armpits. KimmyChi said, "This is so not conducive to fun."
We thought about going to a strip club but decided not to. The Producer says they have something for everyone at the clubs, but the ads are full of hermaphrodites. I miss Heavenly Bodies. I never thought I would say that.
TheProducer was fully annoyed with PreachyBrit, and Kimmy and I needed a break from the odor and attempts at cuddling, so we all decided to go to TheProducer's car to walk Chloe. This is when we discovered a Gap with twenty naked male torsos with no tops lined up in the window. We decided to take picture of it. Twenty naked mannequin packages is not something you can ignore.
Kimmy picked up her cell to call Themadcummer, and The Producer and I yelled, "Don't call that man!"
She said, "You're so right. Don't call that man..." and turned into a bawling woman on a cell phone who had obviously called "that man." I was rather conincidental. God was saying, "Don't call that man."
We went back to the bar and stood outside. I drank three Redbulls to sober up, which didn't do much. I began calling all the randoms in my phone to tell them it was my birthday. Notgettinanyathome began literally grunting to the women who passed him. This was terrible game. I wondered how JoeyHustle could have gotten his bad game reputation when there were men that grunted to passing women. This made no sense.
We parted ways. Of course there were hugs, which we weren't really pleased about. Nicebutsmells is in fact very nice. I probably preferred hugging him to Notgettinanyathome. TheProducer, KimmyChi and I went to a pizza place. I got a slice and KimmyChi got a canoli and waved to boys through the window of the pizza place. Two came in and asked her where she got her canoli, while standing a foot away from a case holding canolis. I said, "Boys, this is so not conducive to conversation." My rude but true comment caught the attention of a black guy named "B" who when I mentioned I was from Chicago danced around yelling "southsiiiiiide" a lot but didn't really know anything about the city.
Bunny: "Are you from Chicago?"
B: "Southsiiiiiiiide."
Bunny: "So you're from the south side then?"
B: "Southsiiiiiiiide."
Bunny: "What the fuck does that mean?"
B took off. An Irish guy sauntered up, as much as the Irish can saunter. I have a soft spot for my kind so I asked him how he got the split lip.
Irishguy: "I was in jail for nine days."
Bunny: "What did you do?"
Irishguy: "This cabbie said I stole money from him."
Bunny: (knowing full well he stole the money) "BASTARD! Was he English?"
Irishguy: "Ah, a girl after my own heart."
Bunny: "Yeah, my family is from Cary."
Irishguy: "Oh yeah. My family is from Cary too."
Bunny: "So where is Cary then?"
Irishguy: "Oh you know. It's in the..."
Bunny: "Uh huh."
Irishguy: "In the..."
Bunny: "Uh huh."
Irishguy: "You have a nice bum."
We decided that men without a hookup at 3am are very conducive to fun and then TheProducer and I walked Kimmy to her car and took off. When we got home I wrote an email to Tucker. Here is a sample: "choloe says his abd b=seeot night night and stuff an di meeted dises irish boy and ege is from fe the dame hoem town as dee mbunny family."
His response was, "YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO DO ANY SHOTS!"
Moderation. I need moderation in my life.
Posted by at 9:18 PM
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