My clothes got their feelings hurt

Yesterday I schlepped with a bag of clothes on the L over to hipster central intending to sell them to Beacon's closet and then I figured whatever BC didn't take I would take over to Buffalo Exchange where according to Carrie they'll take any old thing.
Well they don't take any old thing. As a matter of fact I didn't sell one piece of clothing. The hipsters that worked in these places were like ewwwww!
All I wanted to do was to unload some of my crap and make room for some new crap, plus I thought I'd take the money off the clothes I sold and buy some new ones so no new money was being spent. Unfortunately that didn't happen and I spent money buying a couple tops for work (in the uber trendy meat packing district).
After shopping I had lunch with Giscard who was taking a sickie. He coughed a couple of times to ensure me he was in fact sick and not just playing hooky. Then I raced home to get ready for my date w/ finance guy.
We met up at this book exchange in a bar I planned on earlier to go to and who was the bartender/server but my old crazy roommate who still owes the ex boyfriend money for the con ed. I should have stiffed her considering how many times I had to listen to exboy complain, but finance guy (who was casually dressed) paid. Next time. After 2 glasses of wine and exchanging books (I brought Lucky by Alice Sebold and Reading Lolita in Tehran and picked up a book about a young girl who has her jaw removed b/c of cancer- Autobiography of a Face by Lucy Grealy and also I got Run With the Hunted by one of my fav.'s Charles Bukowski and FG got a book about coyotes or something to do w/ history. I'm unsure) we left for dinner in the uber trendy area I just mentioned but not so bad on a Monday, unless you are going to Pastis, which we did and were informed by the hostess that it would be an hour wait. Yes, 1 hour on a Monday. The place was crazy, you would think that Pastis was giving the shit away. Anyways, I suggested we go to the lesser known and unpretentious wine bar across the street, Paradou for wine and cheese whilst we wait. Once we got back to Pastis for dinner I ordered the lamb and the only reason I mention this is I didn't eat meat for 3+ years until recently when Nick's cousin Gina went all out and made a New Orleans feast and I caved like a crack fiend over her gumbo and the andouille sausage and have been eating meat like crazy since; burgers, steak, chicken wings, fried chicken, bacon... tons of bacon, but no lamb until last night. I have to say I was more impressed with the beans and carrots on my plate. The lamb was OK, but when you wait an hour on a Monday it should be sheer brilliance. Over-rated.
After dinner we had another drink somewhere else, a Key Lime Martini, which was yummy.

And today I feel like this-

In total I drank:
2 glasses of red at book exchange
1 1/2 glass of red at Paradou
1 glass of Lillet and 1 glass of red at Pastis
1 Key Lime martini wherever

Total= 6 1/2 drinks which may not sound like alot if you're name is Lindsey Lohan but that was the perfect concoction to turn me into a bit of a floozy.

Just a wee floozy, I don't know how much I like FG. He's a republican for goodness! I can't talk about it.

I am not preggers, bitch!

I was at work last night, minding my own business, giving the barback grief (in their minds), blabbing to the waiters, making drinks, opening beer bottles, suggesting wine (btw, I am soooooo bullshitting when you ask me which wine is minerally, which wine is like butter- shut up and drink)
the norm... when out of nowhere this woman in her mid-late 30's (so she should know better) asks me if I am pregnant!!!

I was shocked! Fucking shocked!!! I answered her, no I am just fat (you dirty dinosaur slut bag). And she realizes that she is a whore and is back-peddling and is like, oh no I mean because you are drinking water. You are drinking water, right? What??? What has that got to do with the price of milk?

Now let me just say I am very VERY sensitive about my weight but I know I am not fat, I don't look the slightest bit preggers, God knows it would be immaculate conception, but I obsess about being skinny (except I eat chocolate so skinny might be a dream). I am curvy, I have a butt, boobs, I am not a waif.

Whatever. I've put a curse on her to come down with a raging case of gonorrhea.

In yahoo news today:

Speak up, sir...You need the extra small condoms?

Condoms designed to meet international size specifications are too big for many Indian men as their penises fall short of what manufacturers had anticipated, an Indian study has found.

The Indian Council of Medical Research, a leading state-run center, said its initial findings from a two-year study showed 60 percent of men in the financial capital Mumbai had penises about 2.4 cm (one inch) shorter than those condoms catered for.

For a further 30 percent, the difference was at least 5 cm (two inches). A poor fit meant the prophylactics often didn't do the job they were bought for, and led to some tearing or slipping off during use.

"One of the reasons for a failure of up to 20 percent (of condoms) is the association of the size of the condom to the erect penis," the council's Dr. Chander Puri told Reuters, adding another reason was couples often put them on in a hurry.

The Times of India reported the ICMR survey had studied 1,400 men between 18-50 years of age in cities like Mumbai and New Delhi as well as in rural areas in a report. It entitled its story "Indian men don't measure up."

This is not related to the above article, thank God, but it reminded me to mention I went on a date Wednesday night. A proper date with a grown man. He was wearing his suit when I met him at the restaurant. He's a finance guy, which means 1. He has a job! 2. We didn't have to split the bill!!
He's super ridiculously tall, 6'5 and I am 5'9. I felt kinda short next to him but I am excited to out with him again and wear my big girl heels. He has huge hands too not that I am implying that means anything because I wouldn't know. It's not that easy to break my southern girl mentality and screw some guy on the first date.

Also I am really excited that the Gators will be playing Ohio State for the Nat'l title the 8th of Jan. I have a bet with capital guy (he went to OSU) but we haven't set the terms of our bet yet.

quiz and question

I got alot of stuff to cover today but first a game.
Play with me you all!

Soundtrack of your life game:

1. Open your library (iTunes is the only way that is what they say)
2. Put it on shuffle.
3. Press play.
4. For every question, type the song that's playing.
5. When the next song comes on, go to the next question.
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool. (Obviously, you are lame with no friends)
7. Take this seriously, as you would your horoscope or a fortune cookie. It is nothing less than crucial insight into your future.

OK. I am totally stealing this from another blog I came upon today. Don't "hate" on my music, it could be worse, it could be Britney Spears, who if you haven't heard is all over the internet showing off her couchie. I'm not judging, I'm just saying the girl could use a pair of panties.

	Mail Panties For Britney to: c/o ReignDeer Entertainment 394 Huntley Drive West Hollywood, CA 90048
Sorry for showing a pic w/ her bits blurred out but I don't think I can handle having Britney's vag on my blog. Anyhoo, back to the game

And here we go:

1. Opening Credits: Party Over by Mobb Deep
2. Waking Up: Wanna Get To Know You by G-Unit
3. First Day of School: Cemetry Gates by The Smiths
4. Falling in Love: It’s Not Unusual by Tom Jones
5. Fight Song: Between The Devil and The Deep Blue Sea by Thelonious Monk
6. Breaking Up: Ricky Don’t Lose That Number by Steely Dan
7. Prom: The First Taste by Fiona Apple --- hee hee
8. Life Is Good: Desolee by Les Nubians
9. Mental Breakdown: How Am I Driving by Radiohead
10. Driving: Maneater by Hall and Oats
11. Flashback: Joga by Bjork
12. Getting Back Together: Angel of the Morning by Juice Newton
13. Wedding: Memories Are Made of This by Johnny Cash
14. Birth of a Child: Personality Goes A Long Way: Dialogue from Pulp Fiction
15. Final Battle: There You Are-Jesus Song No.7 by Flaming Lips
16. Death Scene: Seven by Prince
17. Funeral Song: Frontin’ by Pharrell and Jay-Z
18. End Credits: Heart Shaped Box by Nirvana
And that's it! Wasn't that fun! That was fun!

Moving on, I live in a tiny apt. A teeny tiny apartment in NYC. I live in the LES (lower east side for all you non New Yorkers) in a tenement building in what is really, if I am being nice a 1 1/2 bedroom with a roommate and a cat, Bert. Bert's the cat. The ex- boyfriend likes to say I live in the hallway. It's sort of true, my roommate has to go through my "room" to get to the bathroom or kitchen. Lucky for me she never pee's or cooks. Really it's not so bad. I live in a really hip area dude, party on, yeah! No really, I love the area.

Here is the obligatory picture of my shoebox apt.

So yes, it's small, yet oh so cozy. True, no more that 4 people fit inside but that's how we keep it intimate. Here's the prob people. My like 3rd cousin twice removed or something to that effect, from Liberty, South Carolina, and his wife and their 17 year old son want to come and stay with me for 7 or so days after x-mas and during New Years. Mind you, these are lovely people, but for one thing there is 3 of them, where am I going to store all of them. Also I am going to have to be a tour guide. People, I am an actress, so you all know what that means, some variation of service industry personnel. I am your friendly, sometimes not so friendly bartender and I will be working a TON over the next few weeks. And if I am not working, I'll probably be drinking. Not a good time to visit, not a good time at all.
But see, I think I may have told them months ago they could stay. I don't think I was drunk just optimistic there would be room. Why? Who knows? The point is now they keep calling and tomorrow I'll have to call them back and tell them... what?
Did you ever notice there are quite alot of youngish stylish women in the city carrying around babies in the slings that hug their body. I caught myself thinking I wanted one of those, just like one may want a Balenciaga bag or a pair of boots . Totally need some new boots, going to go to the coolest thrift shop in Bushwick, that's Brooklyn, yo--- gotta say yo after Brooklyn (yo), don't know why, that's the rules, I am just following the rules.
Walking to work today I walked past Julia Stiles and before you go calling me a star fucker (hello Robert Downey Jr., hi. Hi, *wink) I want to express how I could generally give a shit but she looked sooooooooooo normal. Like me except she's blonde (I am a glorious almond coffee chracoal). It gives me hope. Ol' Julia Stiles gave me a nuget of hope b/c damn it I like food. I like icecream and pie and beans and rice and...and I was beginning to think if I wanted to make money at this profession, the theatre daaaling, I went to Juilard (*British accent* actually I am lying, I didn't go to Juliard, I just like saying that) sorry, went off on a tangent, if I want to make money as an actor, sometimes I think I need to develop an eating disorder.
The last thing I want to mention is that if anyone knows of an apt. on a top floor let me know. Global warming is going to make the ocean flood over the LES. Seriously it's hot out people and it's 1 Dec!