Wednesday, June 22, 2005

3pl Ex

What happened: I was in a play. Three men I had dated but was no longer dating came to see the show on the same night. I found myself at a bar with D., C., and G., and best friend A. It was awkward.

Last night, I was out for dinner with the ex D. He and I were recalling the terrible awkwarness and we had this epiphany: The Ex's should form a band! And the band will be called Thripple Ex (3pl Ex). D. will play the banjo and sing. C. will play the keyboard and accordion. G. will play the drums. And he'll have a star painted over one of his eye like Gene Simmons from Kiss except, since G. is Jewish, his will be a star of david.

Thripple Ex ROCKS!

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

love bandits

there are these bandits. love bandits. bandits d'amour.
they work in two's.
they take love from other people and then lavish it on one another - leftovers from expensive dinners, gifts, vacation photos and souvenirs.
The bandits appropriate the sweet nothings of their unwitting victims and whisper them, in turn, to the objects of their affection.
They re-post love notes sent originally to them by earnest admirers.
They appropriate the very caresses applied to them in order to court and adore each other.
They are gypsies on the emotional landscape and only have to fear that their lover is robbing them as they are robbing another, instead of sharing the full spoils of their thievery.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

eventful weekend

evidence:

- several long scratches on my right upper-arm, received when the horse I was riding decided to run me through a tree.

- clementine-sized bruise on the inside of my right knee, created when trying not to fall off of a galloping horse. medium purple.

- matching but almost-invisible bruise on inside left knee.

- scratches and general soreness on my lower front shins from stirrups.

- adjacent bruises, small and medium, on tip of right elbow and near-elbow fore-arm, respectively. received when falling down steps on account of a) new slippery high-heeled shoes, b) medium-drunken-ness. reddish.

- blazing huge bruise on my left ass-cheek. six inches wide. two and a half inches tall. originally pale purple. then black. now plum-red with yellow around the edges. increasingly resembling a butterfly. received in fall down stairs described above. AWESOME.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

sherpa

The problem: bad posture.

A significant cause: the pedestrian lifestyle lived by most New Yorkers, which forces us to physically heft all of our belongings for the day everywhere with us - keys, phones, heavy hard-covered books to help us look smart when we're reading on the subway platform just in case mr. right happens to also be taking the C train up town for therapy today after work, gym clothes, various grooming accoutrements so that while we're reading that impressive book we'll be able to sport a healthy post-workout glow without any of the unattractive trappings of having just been to the gym such as body odor, dry post-shower skin or fly-away hair. We are literally bent beneath the weight of our daily "necessities" and if anything's going to make mr. right turn around and strike up a conversation with the sara vowel three-off reading The Little Prince for the fourteenth time who's standing near the subway map instead of focusing his twinkly eyes on your lovely self, it's poor posture.

The solution: Seven year olds. We carry a lot, but not more than the average second or third grader can manage. They enjoy foods that are cheap - chocolate, chips, fast food - and they like to please. They schlep our stuff around. We pay them better than Nike & Kathie Lee combined. Mr. right becomes completely captivated by how unencumbered and straight-spined you are. Everyone's happy.