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?

8:02pm
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.