Bite Me

An Open Letter to the Guy Who Asked Me for Money at the Bus Stop Around 8:00pm Tonight:

First of all, running across the street toward a woman who is standing all by herself at the crosswalk, at night time, in the dark, is probably not the best opening to your request.

I am not your "sister". Do not address me as such. Doing so makes your Scandinavian Minnes-oh-tah ass appear to be a refugee from the movie Guys & Dolls. Sit down; you're rocking the boat, mister.

When I politely (I mean, come on - I apologized to you for Christ's sake!) tell you that I do not have money to give you, take that at face value. Quite frankly, it is none of your business whether or not I have money to give you. Your argument that I should "reward" your honesty (you told me upfront that you needed money to buy a bottle) does little for me.

I am not an unsympathetic person. I am not Republican. I understand tough times. I have given money/food/paid bus fare for folks in tight spots. I'm sure I will again in the future. Admittedly, I might not have given you money to buy booze, but the fact remains that I DID NOT HAVE ANY MONEY TO GIVE YOU.

And bottom line - you do not know me. You are a complete stranger. I feel no obligation to continue any conversation with you. It is late, it is dark, I am alone and I am just trying to get home. Back off.

All things considered, the horrible insults you chose to holler at me as I walked away were completely unwarranted. And ineffective. I mean really, you don't know me - how do you know if I'm a bitch or not? And so what if I were? What if that were my biggest point of pride? And the "Big Ass" comment? Yeah, you think I don't know I've got a big ass? Duh. What a moron.

I leave you with four thoughts Mr. You-Should-Buy-My-Booze Man:

1) I owe you nothing. You can ask, but don't be so shocked if you get turned down. You don't know anything about me or MY financial situation. Your angry response to my polite denial is without basis.
2) The name-calling thing did not endear you to me, nor could it have done much for your chances of receiving anything from the others strolling the block.
3) When a lone woman refuses your aggressive overtures at conversation - on a dark corner - did I mention that she's alone? And that you're trying to get her to give you her money? Back the fuck off.
4) Bite Me.

Some Current News

1) There were two large spiders on the ceiling over my shower last night. I did not see them until I was already completely committed (i.e. shampoo in hand). Unfortunately, they were hanging out directly above the shower head. I am tolerant of the spiders, for they eat the other more onerous bugs. There are, however, a few ground rules to our relationship; me and the spideys. They are not allowed in the shower. Nor are they allowed on the bottom half of the wall, the kitchen, or anywhere near me while I am reclining on the furniture. Should any of these boundaries be breached, it's curtains for spidey. Alas, by the end of my shower, only one spider remained. Number two was last seen safely lounging on the ceiling near the bathroom window. Smart move my friend, smart move.

2) I ran into my ex-bf tonight. While I can finally say that I'm no longer attracted to him even an eensy bit, I was still glad I happened to be wearing some super-sexy lipstick and a heaping serving of fabulous oh-so-long-lashifying mascara.

3) How happy are you that Arrested Development won all those Emmys last night? I am in deep celebrity love with Will Arnet and Jason Bateman. And I have a total girl crush on Portia de Rossi, who bore a striking resemblence to Drea de Matteo last night.

Exhausted

I am so freaking tired. My hayfever is out of control – OUT OF CONTROL I TELL YOU! I never sleep through the night any more. I wake up at 5:00, or 4:00, or maybe just for kicks, 3:30am with so much pain and suffering in my sinuses that I fear I shall never breathe properly again. I pray for an early frost.

Things That Bug Me

It's a long quiet weekend here in the Gelato home. No big plans, just lots of time to nap and be annoyed by the idiocy of some people. I present for you a couple of the Things That Bug Me this Labor Day Weekend:

1) Teeny tiny ruffled mini skirts. The skirts themselves I like. They're cute and it doesn't even bother me that they're based on the sweatshirt knit drop-waisted ruffle mini skirts of my early 1980s middle school years. That being said, this current incarnation of the ruffled mini skirt is, simply put, not meant to be worn by everyone. Let's face it, most of us, me included, are simply not built to wear these skirts. I realize this, and you probably understand as well, but sadly, many do not.

Directive to the girls looking lost outside of Pier One on Friday afternoon. True, you are young and cute, but you still have cellulite. I'm not one to suggest that only the perfect among us are allowed to bare skin, but come on kids. Your skirt is so freaking short that it would reveal your crotch should you raise an arm to wave down a cab. This look is so not flattering. Especially when it's baring the cottage cheese dimples of your upper thighs and lower ass cheeks. Paris Hilton comes as close as anyone to pulling off this look, and even she can't make it work 100%.

As far as your statuesque friend, yes the tiny skirt looked good on her (and yes, it was a good 6 inches longer than yours), but that silly John Deere trucker hat worn at the jaunty angle really added an air of hilarity to the ensemble.

2) Smoochy Love Couple at the Movies:

We're sure you thought Napoleon Dynamite fit the hipster bill for entertainment this rainy Sunday afternoon. Personally we felt like the movie was trying too hard. But back to you. Clearly courtship has just begun for the two of you. We saw the evidence in the ticket line and at the concession stand: The starry-eyed smiles at each other, the rapturous beaming of thoughts between the two of you via Love's Own Personal ESP. But the making out in the crowded movie theatre has got to stop. Now. Seriously. We're in favor of love & all that, but please, show a little decorum.

Did you not see that there were people seated directly in front, behind, and next to you? No extra buffer seat in between or anything. The first time you looked at each other knowingly after a line of dialogue, we thought to ourselves, "Okay, inside joke". But then, you continued this behavior after roughly every third line. This was distracting enough to your fellow movie-goers, but when, 15 minutes or so into the movie, you chose to add a kiss, nuzzle, or neck lick to each exchange, well, we truely wanted to slap you. When you buried your heads so far down in each other's shoulders that you could not have possibly seen the screen, we silently wished for you to hold the posture for at least the duration of the scene. But no! You had to lift your head up so we could be treated to your partner's raptourous Running of Fingers All Over Your Face so as to cover up the bottom half of our view.

We hate you. You are clearly old enough to have your own digs and not need to sneak away to the movies for a little makeout time. Give us all a break. Get it on at home, or at the very least in the restroom if you need a little public nookie to spice things up.

And yes, we are the ones who directed you to "Get a Room!" while you groped your way through the end credits.

3) No Arrested Development on TV tonight. Garrr!

08/31/97

I just read a little blurb in the paper remembering that it’s the 7th anniversary of Princess Diana’s death. Which triggered me to remember that it was also the night my ex, Utah, & I reconciled. (Only to split for good six months later)

I mention this because today I ran into Utah after not seeing him for like a year and a half. Which is all the more coincidental because he’s been popping up in my dreams lately.

I think I would like my dreams to start focusing on winning the lottery instead.

Tacky, not Tactless

The following story is one I’ve heard an acquaintance tell numerous times. Each telling leaves her dissolved into red-faced, wheezing, laughing tears. It is a funny story, yet she is completely unaware of the lingual gaffe that adds an extra layer of hilarity to the tale.

As the story goes, this acquaintance receives a call from her younger brother. Her brother has just finished talking to their mother who is very excited about her recent purchase from QVC. Through the television-based retailer, she has secured a set of Fox Pass pearl earrings and necklace. The brother doesn’t ask, but wonders throughout the conversation just exactly what Fox Pass pearl could be. After hanging up, he realizes that his mother has actually purchased “faux pas” pearls. He calls his sister to share the story and the two of them have a rollicking good laugh at their mother’s expense.

The extra laugh is fairly obvious: They’re talking about faux pearls. (Fox pearls, if you must.)

Because while the pearls may be tacky, they’re not tactless.