Tuesday, May 12, 2009

A Boring Day

Today was a boring day. Not bad, just boring. I used to long for boredom. I was so freaked out within myself, boredom seemed safe. Now I'm not so freaked out. I am grateful for that.

I arrived on time to work today and I stayed until 5:55pm. A good worker. Now I am home and eating smoked turkey slices with wasabi mayonnaise, resisting the half bottle of red wine that sits in my make-shift kitchen cupboard, and I am thinking about what to eat next. Oatmeal, leftover chicken breast from a Mother's Day barbeque on Sunday, or roasted pepper soup.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

More Blonde

I assembled thirty-one Fed Ex boxes at work today and went home. Worked out, went to Ralph's, bought an overcooked chicken breast for $1.99, and in an hour I have a hair appointment at Shampoo to go more blonde.

I should really cancel. I'm not feeling well. Itchy throat, achy between the shoulder blades. The worst part about it is I can't see my nephew. Can't get the little guy sick. Not seeing him sucks. It really does.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Women On Top

Left work early today. Home now eating Spicy Ranchero Egg White Salad from Trader Joe's. Spooky weather today, hot and windy. A dusty wind. Anthony has rehearsal tonight. I'm staying in. Will read, write and watch the results for American Idol.

Last night 'girl's night in' was cancelled. Well, Steph, she cancelled. But my sister and I, we made a night of it at Barnes and Nobles. I hung out in the fiction section and picked up a book called, Women On Top. An anthology of erotic fiction by women. Dante, she hung out in the Self Improvement area. I joined her there later and we read John Gray's, 'When Mars and Venus Collide.'

After that I went home, ate two bowls of oatmeal, watched half an episode of Seinfeld and went to bed.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Girl's Night In

What happened today?
Let's see -
Anthony built a wall. He's building a writing shack in Mount Washington, on his sister's property.
"Every man," he told me, "Every man in his life time should build a home with his own two hands."
His sister, she lives in one of those houses that is built on a hill on stilts and that's where Anthony has decided to build his shack. It's complicated because of the slope, but he's figuring it out. Until today, it was just the deck. Now, according to him, there is the wall.
"I need your help," he told me when he called earlier to tell me that the wall had been built. "It's not standing yet, that's where you come in. I need you to hold the wall in place while I secure it."
His deadline has been pushed to Christmas. Originally, it was the end of the summer.
"But the problem," he told me, "Is I need to get it done before the cold sets in."
My sister told me that he must have found the only girl in Los Angeles as unmaterialistic as me.

What else?
Well, today at work I actually worked. That is unusually for me. Normally I wander around. Go to Ghetto Von's, Walgreen’s, check my blood pressure at Rite Aid, visit my sister. It's weird, the working thing, it wasn't so bad.

What are the plans for this evening?
It's girl's night in. My sister, Steph and me, we'll probably ask the pink ball a few questions . . . like, "Does so and so love me?" Or, "Will I lose five pounds by August?"
Other than that, I'm not sure. We may go out, even though that's not really girl's night in. My sister, she wants to go to the bookstore, Steph, she probably doesn't want to go to the bookstore since she doesn't read (that's what she says) and me, I want to go to The Grove. That guy, the cute, blonde gay guy from 'Dancing with the Stars,' he's performing there tonight. I'm sure my sister and Steph, they'll be up for that.

Anthony just called.
"I got a gig," he said. "It's at the Rose Bowl."
"That's great," I said.
"It's in August," he said.
August. Okay. It's his first gig.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Rice-Cakes and Straight Hair

Later -
Rice-cakes, yeah right.
Since then I've eaten a Chocolate Mint Zone Bar, a package of Swedish Fish, two thick slices of Monterey Jack cheese, four slices of processed ham, a cup of Neapolitan ice-cream, two dill pickles and a maraschino cherry. Now I am resisting the urge to walk to Trader Joe's and buy ginger snaps and white wine. Oh yeah, on my excursion out into the world earlier and away from food - I bought a straight iron at Target. Or is it called a flat iron? I think so.
That's it, the end of this unkept rat's nest hair of mine. I will take the time and straighten it! I swear, I will. I'm tired of this unkept look.
How do you use a flat iron anyway?

I just walked over to Trader Joe's. Wine (from Chile for $2.95), eggs, cream, and a bag of ginger snaps. As I was leaving to go to Trader Joe's Anthony said, "Two minutes until half-time. If you wait I'll go with you."
But I was in too much of a rush to get to my ginger snaps to wait. I ate the whole damn bag walking the seven blocks home. And who do I see as I'm shoveling the snaps into my face? Matisse. A guy I had a thing for when I worked at Louis IX, a restaurant on La Brea off Melrose. I thought he had a thing for me too. But I guess not.
Walking by him this evening I asked, "Didn't you used to work at Louis IX?"
He was standing outside a French Bistro smoking a cigarette.
"Yes," he said, flicking the cigarette to the pavement and leaving it to burn out by itself.
There was no recognition at all. None.
"My name is Chloe," I said. "You used to pick me up and swing me around and tell the whole restaurant that I was your wife."
I looked at him. He looked more handsome now. Not as bloated. He looked at me. Blank. Worse than blank. Complete disinterest.