Pants is visiting. I took Thursday and Friday off to hang in the city with her. We met Dylan for lunch and ate by the water, walked up to Lombard St. Another day we walked to Hayes Valley, got chickaree in our iced coffees, left Dylan and did cartwheels at the Painted Ladies, before walking to Castro for my haircut. Oh, and Thursday was such a shopping day. It felt good. I walked away with three madras-printed items. I love dresses.
That walking has tired us all out. We’re taking it easy doing our own things in Sonoma. Becky’s out front on the chair, Dylan’s cleaning up, Vanessa’s reading on the couch with the bizarre tilt, I just finished my Mariah Carey album review and emailed it. This was all prefaced by a Barefoot Contessa French toast recipe, cooked up by Dylan.
Last night it was bong rips and bowls aplenty, and a shiraz night-cap.
Today at Urban Outfitters I got a David Shrigley book (a wee lil’ one) in the bargain basement for $1.28. When’s the last time you bought something other than gum for that little bank? I already marked my faves.
Pants and I talked about what types of alcohol were the most defining of each apartment.
1. Peterborough: large bottles of wine, specifically Yellowtail’s Shiraz-Cabernet
2. Henchman: cheap beer (Rolling Rock and High Life) and UV Vodka, oh and Jager!
3. Hanover: probably raz vodka to mix with Sprite. A handle of Beam was in the house for a while too….maybe tequila too.
Right now, Little Penguin White Shiraz. That’s what’s up! Lily Allen is also what’s up. (and shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!….Fall Out Boy!)
I hear Latifah and Travolta are in Hairspray together…!!!!
Last night was like a true bonding night for Ry and me. This was after he and Pants went down the Linwood for an hour, while I was left to my own devices. Devices being a giant bottle of Yellowtail. I had announced when I got home that I was going to drink it all by myself. Well, not quite, but I had a good 4/5ths of it by the end of our night.
The reason I was so determined to drink it all was because when I got home from work I had to immediately shower. When I took the trash out at work a girl from Dick’s hucked her trash into the dumpster and mysterious liquid flew all over my face. It smelled like 20 different things and as she told me how sorry she was I could feel it trickle down my lip. I had another shirt under my pretzel shirt so I ripped off my pretzel shirt to wipe off my face and forearm. As I walked away wiping my face I started crying. What the hell am I doing working at a place where I even have to go to the dumpster to take out the trash? I have a college degree, unlike most of the people who work at Faneuil Hall for a fucking living. I felt pathetic and also stupid because something like that set me off to crying and fighting back tears, instead of just getting pissed.
Anyway, when they came back from the Linwood Pants soon went to bed and Ry and I were in my room each with one sock/Chinese slipper on, playing some Joanna Newsom and talking about JT Leroy, of all things! At about 2:45am Ry took a 7 minute sleepy on my bed. I was instructed to wake him with “Oy, mate!” which I did. He popped right up and we went to Shaw’s. It started out like a regular trip to Swahs. We found the mozz sticks, found a nice pizza (2 for $6), and Ry got a SmartWater. We were waiting in line forever so I opened up my Kettle chips. We were digging in and before we even moved an inch they were all gone. Ry whispered that he was going to get another bag because they were so good. He ditched our trash in the organic food aisle. He came back with a bigger $3.99 bag of Kettle chips (yogurt and dill? Mmmmm). So then we get so annoyed that we’re waiting in line that he suggests that I go down an aisle and put the pizza and the mozz sticks up my shirt. Of course I go to the organic aisle. I look around a bit, eyeing the cameras, then I slipped the 10″ pizza and sticks into my purse. I walked back down the aisle, looked at Ry and we waltzed outta there. Now I’m staying away for about a week.
At home we cooked up the food, and once it was done D called to say he was downstairs. The three of us sat in the kitchen talking about who knows…tater tots and hash browns. Ry continued to ask me to slap his arm, which I did because I never turn down an offer to slap a pal. Ben told me today he fell asleep to the slapping sound followed by Ry’s “Ooooohhh!”s of pain! We all realized it was 4:30am and decided to call it a night. Of course, D didn’t even drink the Miller Lite cans he brought, but at least he didn’t open them, take a sip or two and leave them on my window sill like usual. He was downloading some Jay Z diss by Cam’ron and vice versa, while we lied down and smoked some squares.
We woke up at 1:30pm. He saw the issue of the Dig that we were in and said he lost his. I told him he could have it because it was an extra from work. After he got his shit together he was about to walk out and then he remembered it, went into my room and came out with it folded up. Pretty dear. His parting words were about hollerin’ at him before the holiday. Good shit right there.