LADIES NIGHT EXCERPT
Lady 1: I totally saw scrotum in yoga class.
Lady 2: What do you mean, you saw it?
Lady 1: Like, it was right there, like hanging out.
Lady 3: Couldn’t you just look away?
Lady 1: Well we were doing this swan-dive thingy where you bend over (bends gracefully at waist with arms extended behind her), so your face is right at someone’s butt. And his scroat was, like, right there. Huge ball sack.
Lady 2: Hanging out of his shorts or something?
Lady 1: Yeah.
Lady 4: Yuck.
Lady 1: Yeah. I was traumatized.
LADIES NIGHT EXCERPT
Lady 1: To be honest, it wasnï¿½t that I didnï¿½t find him attractive. I just didn’t think he was the type of guy who’d be attracted to me.
Lady 2: Why?
Lady 1: Well, I didn’t think he was into black girls.
Lady 3: Ah.
Lady 1: No I mean… How can I put this?
Lady 4: You don’t have to be too PC.
Lady 1: No, it’s just that Certain types of white guys are attracted to certain types of black girls. Like, there’s the guy who’s attracted to the petite, Halle Barry type of black girl
Lady 2: The white black girl.
Lady 1: Exactly. And then there’s the guys who’s attracted to the darker black girls because it’s more of a I don’t know. And then there’s the guys who just aren’t attracted to black girls. I sort of assumed he was one of those.
Lady 2: Why?
Lady 1: He just didn’t look like the type.
Lady 2: What, was he a rocker or something?
Lady 1: Actually, he looks a lot like Billy Idol.
Lady 5: Like all snarly?
Lady 6: He has a beautiful set of teeth. Perfect teeth.
Lady 1: I should have brought pictures.
Lady 6: You should’ve.
Lady 5: Is he all tatted up?
Lady 1: He has some tattoos
Lady 1: We hung out together, and I stayed over, and we spent Sunday morning watching football.
Lady 2: That’s commitment.
Lady 1: Yeah, you could tell I really liked him because I was doing the girly thing, like, Now, first in ten What does that mean again?
Lady 2: Awesome.
1.24.02 DEADLINE PRESSURE
I used to work with Kate, and I miss her. Kate loved vendor gifts. She had a favorite pen that lit up when you clicked it, a straw cowboy hat sent with some promo materials, and a red bandana with a big startup logo in the middle. One day as I passed her cube, I glanced in. She was wearing the cowboy hat and had tied the bandana around her face. Her eyes widened when she saw me. What are you doing? I asked. She bugged her eyes, held the flashing pen above her head, and whispered:
I’m a secret space cowboy.
LADIES NIGHT EXCERPTS
Lady 1: Tell them about what you got John for Christmas. I think this is funny.
Lady 2: What?
Lady 1: Jane and I went Christmas shopping and she bought lacy undies for herself as John’s Christmas present.
Lady 3: Sweet.
Lady 1: I think it’s cute.
Lady 3: What do they look like?
Lady 2: (Describes skimpies.) My starvation diet starts tomorrow.
Lady 4: Hence, the fat-free fudgecicles.
Lady 5: The fudgicles are fat free?
Lady 2: Yep.
Lady 5: Oh man! How could you do that to us?
Lady 2: They’re really good.
Lady 5: So close…yet so far. Well, I guess we could always dip them in frosting.
Lady 6: I think I’ve got some Magic Shell somewhere.
(Highlight of a short sanitary products discussion:)
Lady 1: Someone once said that removing a tampon is like pulling a dead, wet mouse out of a wine bottle by its tail.
Lady 1: Dead on though.
Lady 2: Yeah. Pretty much.
Scenario: Discussing the week’s events.
Lady 1: This week has been kind of tough. Jim has this really good girlfriend who he went to school with who’s visiting. She’s spent all this time working as a doctor in Ecuador…
Lady 2: …Threatening.
Lady 1: And all the guys are friends with her, and when they talk about her, it’s always in these awed tones like, “Oh, Abri this, Abri’s so cool.”
Lady 3: (Pulls in air through teeth)
Lady 1: And she is cool. I mean, she’s done all this amazing stuff.
Lady 3: Bitch.
Lady 2: Ha!
Lady 1: No, she’s really nice. Like, I’m thinking, OK. I’m going to try really hard to like her, because I know that my natural inclination is going to be to not like her, and that’s not fair. But she turned out to be really cool.
Lady 2: Which is even more threatening.
Lady 1: No, I like her. I mean it’s been a lot better than I expected.
Lady 3: You’re a better woman than I.
Scenario: One of the ladies is in a band and wants to run a song by us.
Lady 1: (Singing) I kinda wanna, I kinda wanna see you again./ I kinda wanna, I kinda wanna kiss you again.
All: Woo hoo.
Lady 1: (singing) I kinda wanna, I kinda wanna touch you again./ I wanna let you in!
Lady 2: Tsk! She’s talking about emotional availability, you guys. Geez.
Lady 1: (singing) I wanna taste your SKIIIN!
LADIES NIGHT: SEAMSTRESS ADVENTURES
Lady 1: What have you been up to with work?
Lady 2: I made a play suit for this guy.
Lady 1: A “play” suit?
Lady 2: That’s what he called it. It was basically a body suit with modifications.
Lady 3: What kind of modifications?
Lady 2: Well it took me awhile to figure out what he wanted, he wouldn’t just spit it out. He’s like, “Can you make it really fitted?” and I’m like, “Yeah.” And he’s like, “I mean, I want it to fit me really well everywhere.” And I’m like, “Kay…” And he says, “I want it to have three little pouches.” So I say, “You mean you basically want a ball sack?”
Lady 4: Three pouches?
Lady 2: That’s what I was thinking. I’m like (confused expression, counts on fingers). I was like, “This is gonna have to be a small, medium, large thing, because I’m not interested in getting that personal.”
Lady 5: What color was it?
Lady 2: Bright yellow.
Lady 6: YELLOW?
Lady 2: Yep.
Lady 6: What is that?
Lady 4: Chiquita fetish.
Lady 5: He’s got the fruit hat at home, and a set of castanets.
Lady 6: Come over here, mama’s big ba-nan-ah!
ART AND LIFE
I’ve been collecting photos that look like the work of famous artists.
10.04.01 PAIN HURTS ME
I’m a wimp. I’ve tried to get past it, but I can’t watch an episode of “ER” or “Rescue 911” without getting tunnel hearing as I crawl from the room. So I didn’t do well with the Wisdom Tooth Removal video at the dentist’s office. It’s a high-level cartoon, for cripes sake. No blood, no close-ups, just detailed descriptions of the procedure and my over-active imagination. The dentist returned to find me with my head between my knees, and one arm groping blindly for the stop button on the VCR. Tomorrow morning I’m having roughly half of my jaw removed. Should be a treat.
Ladies night excerpt:
Lady 1: Does your necklace say “Rockstar?”
Lady 2: Yep.
Lady 1: Awesome.
Lady 2: I wore it to a meeting today before I realized I had this lovely hicky. (Does Vanna White hand-display impression around hicky.)
Lady 3: Oh well. At least now they know you’re getting some.
Lady 2: In case you were wondering if I get any action. (waggles eyebrows)
Lady 4: What? This? Oh, yes… I was curling the ends of my hair and the iron slipped.
Lady 2: Ha! The crackpipe slipped.
Lady 5: Rugburn.
Lady 4: Ropeburn.
10.02.01 HE GIVES ME FEVER
I’ve had three cold sores in the last six years. Each one of them has coincided with an event involving Dave Eggers. In college, I had a subscription to Might Magazine (coincidentally, the inspiration for my blog title). The staff had a farewell party in the Tenderloin, but no one would go with me (I was living in Davis at the time). I had all these tests the next morning and woke up with an angry cold sore. So, with a bitter sense of disappointment that still lingers to this day, I skipped it. A couple years ago, Mr. Eggers was doing a reading in SF that I was determined to see. Of course, deadline ran over at the magazine I was working for, and I had to stay late. I had a cold sore then, too. I finally got to see him speak last night. The audience was eerily consistent: tousled men in ’50s eyewear, artsy chicks in knee socks and pea coats. Mr. Eggers baked cookies for the audience, and rocked nervously while he told us about his taxidermy supply store in Manhattan and his poor experiences with UC Santa Cruz students. I brought along the Carmex. I would have stopped to meet him afterwards, but I was afraid that if I shook his hand my entire body would break out in fever blisters. So I got a cab instead.
This weekend, I went kayak camping for the first time. The waterproof windbreaker, board shorts and salt air made me feel pretty sporty. I had to stop myself from greeting fellow kayakers with my chin (‘Sup?), and grinning stupidly at the tawny, tanned, fleece zipping, sports-bra sporting girls. Then I realized that seasoned outdoorsmen probably don’t assume that every seal they see has a shark lurking just beneath. They probably don’t wince at the searing pain in their shoulders after rowing for five minutes either.
LADIES NIGHT EXCERPT
Lady 1: I actually once wrestled in hot oil with another woman.
Lady 2: What? How did that come up?
Lady 1: It’s not as bad as it sounds, it was for an art project.
Lady 2: Riight. “Art.”
Lady 1: It was supposed to be kind of like a spoof of oil wrestling, but it was kind of weird because they asked us to fill in at the last minute so we didn’t really know what the piece was about.
Lady 3: Were you naked?
Lady 1: No, no. They just told us to wear a bikini or underwear or whatever we were comfortable in. It was kind of scary just before we went on. I’m thinking, “I’m about to get up in front of all these people I know and hot oil wrestle with another woman.”
Lady 2: No way. That makes you rad. That’s when your stock totally shoots up.
Lady 4: That’s when you go IPO.