most of us need the eggs...even Bambi & Thumper
good GRIEF.
It's quarter past midnight.
I got very, very little sleep between Thursday night and this morning.
I have work in the morning.
I should be in beeeeed....
But I've been online looking for a new (amazing) funky / urban / interior design scheme of mine and it's got me all wide-awake and creative. I can't wait to put it in my apt and post pictures.
So. Awesome weekend.
Friday- post-o'brother where art thou work day- went straight down to Denver for girls night out with Katie & Lindsay Murphy and a whole gaggle of fabulous women. I had dashed out the door and had a 9 hr work day, so I arrived at a table full of women with perfectly curled and coiffed hair, fabulous out-on-the-town outfits and high heels...and I was wearing about 20 layers with a sweater over a dress over my jeans, the pink sneakers, and the craziest looking hair ever. I felt like Tim Burton arriving at a black tie event-- it was kind of awesome. We hit up LoDo... I discovered some drink that's red wine with orange soda (?!) in it, which is amazing, and then we had a long night of tapas and laughter and wandering several blocks away to the Oxford hotel's (secret) ((extremely haunted)) bar. There's a fun, friendly bar out front, and hidden in a narrow hallway in the back is this bar with red lightbulbs, 20s decor, 30s music playing... it was straight out of the shining. The cosmo I ordered was about 700% alcohol, which made our conversation that much more fun. I actually got nervous in the basement bathroom listening to the laughter warbling through the marble walls from upstairs because it felt so ghostly. Must go back post-haste.
Stopped by a friend's 80s Rockstar themed birthday party on the way home, where my sneakers and crazy hair looked much more at home. Saw the BEST George Michael impersonator I've ever seen, which is saying a *lot*. Really. Dead on. His girlfriend was Madonna, which was an inspired pairing. Derek was Loverboy, which was also a dead-on reinactment... ahhhh... 80s parties. They are my favorite thing.
Also met the sweetest dog on the planet. She reminded me SO much of Fergie, it was unreal... I woke up this morning and I could actually feel how much I missed Ferg. Sometimes I still toss a pillow down to the foot of my bed... it's 2 years later and I'm still not used to her not being there.
Saturday I had to reorganize all of my music... switching everything over to a new backup system mysteriously messed up all my mp3s and made my playlists disappear, which I had been saving for at least 2 or 3 years. I'm super bummed to have lost them... I like playing mixes I made for friends. I had all my harmony favorites bookmarked. Anyhoo. Made a bunch of mixes, which is my happy place... showered so long that there are fewer whales on the planet... went out with Erik for fajitas and $3 Jameson on the walk home (because come on... when it's raining ice and you're walking, one must stop in Connor O'Neils for a Jameson special on the way home.) We had an awesome conversation, during which I learned that Erik has never (he swears. really.) had a nightmare. Not even a bad dream. Not even that dream where you get on the school bus and you aren't wearing pants.
W.
T.
F.
We talked about how different people's lives can be due to sleep and dreams. It blew my mind a little bit. Here I am, stuck in nightmare central (not since Friday night-- knock on wood-- let's hope that's over)... and I realize that not everyone turns out the light with a faint sense of dread sometimes. Or wakes up with their heart in their mouth, terrified. Or wishes more than anything that they could rent someone at 2am when they wake up sweaty and freaked out, just to hang out in the tree bed reading calvin and hobbes so you could go back to sleep and release them from duty at 6:45am.
So crazy. No bad dreams?
Peter called on my way home, and being *ridiculously* sleep deprived and about to fall on my face at midnight, I wasn't even making coherent sentences. Peter reminded me of our last conversation, which included something along the line of:
jane: "and then, you know, I am just not in the mood for this existential crisis any more. I'm over it. If only this whole 'plus one' thing would go away and my co-workers would stop bugging me about why I don't have a date for our party... sorry, I'm snarky at the moment, and I have some image in my head as me depicting a little black rain cloud"
peter: "right... it's more like the grim reaper..."
jane: "....yeah...on the Brooklyn Bridge... that's where I am right now"
peter: "yeah, me too. totally. grim reaper on the Brooklyn Bridge"
jane: "and I'm just not in the mood to be forced to think about, you know, Bambi and Thumper's...date...of love and glory"
peter: *wheezing noises from laughing*
jane: "who the hell are we? What the hell are we even talking about?"
peter: *still laughing hysterically* "I love the pause in your voice and then you just went for 'love and glory"
jane: "yeah, well, snarkiness leads to good comedic timing, right?"
*peter and jane dissolve into hopeless laughter about what dorks they are and hang up on each other*
No one makes me laugh like Peter. Last night we were both so stupid tired that I actually fell asleep while on the phone for a second, and woke up just in time to catch the end of his frustrated anecdote to say, "I hear ya, kiddo. Dating is tough." Peter: "You know what? Taking dating advice is just stupid. And DATING is stupid." Me: (thinking about it for a second) You know, Pita, you're on to something there...
Ah honey. I know. The great thing about Peter is that his life is so parallel to mine... let's say I was coming home from an interview, sleep deprived and angsty, wondering if it was weird that the guy interviewing me had a hook for a hand and a parrot... I'd call Peter, who would be sleep deprived and snarky, driving home from an interview with someone who had a pegged leg and a long velvet jacket. These are the friends you need in your life. The ones who are having simultaneous experiences as you, and who still love you, despite knowing all of your flaws.
(obviously, I'm still totally sleep deprived and English isn't my strong point)
Fortunately, I had a lovely, decadent, exhausted, puttering-around, cold, snowy Sunday.
Tom and I watched a couple more episodes of Mad Men, which I'm really enjoying. The booze! The cigarettes! The bras that go from your neck to your knees! The affairs! The SUITS! The ties! The "chip&dip"... the rifle... the vomiting of clams & champagne after climbing 23 flights of stairs... well... nevermind. Had to be there.
It's awesome.
Tonight I took myself on a date. I smelled totally tasty after another 3-day long shower* and a new scent that I bought and all the candles in my apartment (and whatever else it is that girls are addicted to that smell good)... so I figured that I'd have a romantic date with myself. Made tacos, watched Annie Hall**, decided to buy myself a little art for the apartment, snuggled up under a blanket with myself watching the snow fall.
It's good to be happy and sleepy, home alone. It's rare that I really get to enjoy this any more.
*my hot water lasts about 10 minutes these days, which it's never done... must try to remedy problem...I can't exist without my shower epiphanies
**I hadn't seen it for a few years... it's looking OLD! Crazy. And the DVD is *terrible* quality. Awesome one-liners, though... "don't knock masterbation. It's sex with someone I love" and the one that I've quoted with much love for years..."Love is too weak a word for what I feel - I luuurve you, you know, I loave you, I luff you, two F's"
the last lines kind of got me:
I realized what a terrific person she was, and... and how much fun it was just knowing her; and I... I, I thought of that old joke, y'know, the, this... this guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, "Doc, uh, my brother's crazy; he thinks he's a chicken." And, uh, the doctor says, "Well, why don't you turn him in?" The guy says, "I would, but I need the eggs." Well, I guess that's pretty much now how I feel about relationships; y'know, they're totally irrational, and crazy, and absurd, and... but, uh, I guess we keep goin' through it because, uh, most of us... need the eggs.
off to bed I go.
this week...
*buy a tie
*purchase awesome apartment designs
*huge company meeting on thurs that I'm nervous about...please don't fire anyone... please, please don't say that the economy is forcing some of us to take a pay decrease...
*do some serious writing... no matter how hard I try to fight it, every year as it gets close to my birthday, I really get that lump in my stomach... the "i'm getting older-- am I doing a good job?" lump. I've learned that I really need to get my thoughts out close to my birthday or I internalize the anxiety/questions/blah blah blah
and, of course, make a few more mixes.
sweet dreams.
It's quarter past midnight.
I got very, very little sleep between Thursday night and this morning.
I have work in the morning.
I should be in beeeeed....
But I've been online looking for a new (amazing) funky / urban / interior design scheme of mine and it's got me all wide-awake and creative. I can't wait to put it in my apt and post pictures.
So. Awesome weekend.
Friday- post-o'brother where art thou work day- went straight down to Denver for girls night out with Katie & Lindsay Murphy and a whole gaggle of fabulous women. I had dashed out the door and had a 9 hr work day, so I arrived at a table full of women with perfectly curled and coiffed hair, fabulous out-on-the-town outfits and high heels...and I was wearing about 20 layers with a sweater over a dress over my jeans, the pink sneakers, and the craziest looking hair ever. I felt like Tim Burton arriving at a black tie event-- it was kind of awesome. We hit up LoDo... I discovered some drink that's red wine with orange soda (?!) in it, which is amazing, and then we had a long night of tapas and laughter and wandering several blocks away to the Oxford hotel's (secret) ((extremely haunted)) bar. There's a fun, friendly bar out front, and hidden in a narrow hallway in the back is this bar with red lightbulbs, 20s decor, 30s music playing... it was straight out of the shining. The cosmo I ordered was about 700% alcohol, which made our conversation that much more fun. I actually got nervous in the basement bathroom listening to the laughter warbling through the marble walls from upstairs because it felt so ghostly. Must go back post-haste.
Stopped by a friend's 80s Rockstar themed birthday party on the way home, where my sneakers and crazy hair looked much more at home. Saw the BEST George Michael impersonator I've ever seen, which is saying a *lot*. Really. Dead on. His girlfriend was Madonna, which was an inspired pairing. Derek was Loverboy, which was also a dead-on reinactment... ahhhh... 80s parties. They are my favorite thing.
Also met the sweetest dog on the planet. She reminded me SO much of Fergie, it was unreal... I woke up this morning and I could actually feel how much I missed Ferg. Sometimes I still toss a pillow down to the foot of my bed... it's 2 years later and I'm still not used to her not being there.
Saturday I had to reorganize all of my music... switching everything over to a new backup system mysteriously messed up all my mp3s and made my playlists disappear, which I had been saving for at least 2 or 3 years. I'm super bummed to have lost them... I like playing mixes I made for friends. I had all my harmony favorites bookmarked. Anyhoo. Made a bunch of mixes, which is my happy place... showered so long that there are fewer whales on the planet... went out with Erik for fajitas and $3 Jameson on the walk home (because come on... when it's raining ice and you're walking, one must stop in Connor O'Neils for a Jameson special on the way home.) We had an awesome conversation, during which I learned that Erik has never (he swears. really.) had a nightmare. Not even a bad dream. Not even that dream where you get on the school bus and you aren't wearing pants.
W.
T.
F.
We talked about how different people's lives can be due to sleep and dreams. It blew my mind a little bit. Here I am, stuck in nightmare central (not since Friday night-- knock on wood-- let's hope that's over)... and I realize that not everyone turns out the light with a faint sense of dread sometimes. Or wakes up with their heart in their mouth, terrified. Or wishes more than anything that they could rent someone at 2am when they wake up sweaty and freaked out, just to hang out in the tree bed reading calvin and hobbes so you could go back to sleep and release them from duty at 6:45am.
So crazy. No bad dreams?
Peter called on my way home, and being *ridiculously* sleep deprived and about to fall on my face at midnight, I wasn't even making coherent sentences. Peter reminded me of our last conversation, which included something along the line of:
jane: "and then, you know, I am just not in the mood for this existential crisis any more. I'm over it. If only this whole 'plus one' thing would go away and my co-workers would stop bugging me about why I don't have a date for our party... sorry, I'm snarky at the moment, and I have some image in my head as me depicting a little black rain cloud"
peter: "right... it's more like the grim reaper..."
jane: "....yeah...on the Brooklyn Bridge... that's where I am right now"
peter: "yeah, me too. totally. grim reaper on the Brooklyn Bridge"
jane: "and I'm just not in the mood to be forced to think about, you know, Bambi and Thumper's...date...of love and glory"
peter: *wheezing noises from laughing*
jane: "who the hell are we? What the hell are we even talking about?"
peter: *still laughing hysterically* "I love the pause in your voice and then you just went for 'love and glory"
jane: "yeah, well, snarkiness leads to good comedic timing, right?"
*peter and jane dissolve into hopeless laughter about what dorks they are and hang up on each other*
No one makes me laugh like Peter. Last night we were both so stupid tired that I actually fell asleep while on the phone for a second, and woke up just in time to catch the end of his frustrated anecdote to say, "I hear ya, kiddo. Dating is tough." Peter: "You know what? Taking dating advice is just stupid. And DATING is stupid." Me: (thinking about it for a second) You know, Pita, you're on to something there...
Ah honey. I know. The great thing about Peter is that his life is so parallel to mine... let's say I was coming home from an interview, sleep deprived and angsty, wondering if it was weird that the guy interviewing me had a hook for a hand and a parrot... I'd call Peter, who would be sleep deprived and snarky, driving home from an interview with someone who had a pegged leg and a long velvet jacket. These are the friends you need in your life. The ones who are having simultaneous experiences as you, and who still love you, despite knowing all of your flaws.
(obviously, I'm still totally sleep deprived and English isn't my strong point)
Fortunately, I had a lovely, decadent, exhausted, puttering-around, cold, snowy Sunday.
Tom and I watched a couple more episodes of Mad Men, which I'm really enjoying. The booze! The cigarettes! The bras that go from your neck to your knees! The affairs! The SUITS! The ties! The "chip&dip"... the rifle... the vomiting of clams & champagne after climbing 23 flights of stairs... well... nevermind. Had to be there.
It's awesome.
Tonight I took myself on a date. I smelled totally tasty after another 3-day long shower* and a new scent that I bought and all the candles in my apartment (and whatever else it is that girls are addicted to that smell good)... so I figured that I'd have a romantic date with myself. Made tacos, watched Annie Hall**, decided to buy myself a little art for the apartment, snuggled up under a blanket with myself watching the snow fall.
It's good to be happy and sleepy, home alone. It's rare that I really get to enjoy this any more.
*my hot water lasts about 10 minutes these days, which it's never done... must try to remedy problem...I can't exist without my shower epiphanies
**I hadn't seen it for a few years... it's looking OLD! Crazy. And the DVD is *terrible* quality. Awesome one-liners, though... "don't knock masterbation. It's sex with someone I love" and the one that I've quoted with much love for years..."Love is too weak a word for what I feel - I luuurve you, you know, I loave you, I luff you, two F's"
the last lines kind of got me:
I realized what a terrific person she was, and... and how much fun it was just knowing her; and I... I, I thought of that old joke, y'know, the, this... this guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, "Doc, uh, my brother's crazy; he thinks he's a chicken." And, uh, the doctor says, "Well, why don't you turn him in?" The guy says, "I would, but I need the eggs." Well, I guess that's pretty much now how I feel about relationships; y'know, they're totally irrational, and crazy, and absurd, and... but, uh, I guess we keep goin' through it because, uh, most of us... need the eggs.
off to bed I go.
this week...
*buy a tie
*purchase awesome apartment designs
*huge company meeting on thurs that I'm nervous about...please don't fire anyone... please, please don't say that the economy is forcing some of us to take a pay decrease...
*do some serious writing... no matter how hard I try to fight it, every year as it gets close to my birthday, I really get that lump in my stomach... the "i'm getting older-- am I doing a good job?" lump. I've learned that I really need to get my thoughts out close to my birthday or I internalize the anxiety/questions/blah blah blah
and, of course, make a few more mixes.
sweet dreams.
posted by JustJane at
12:15 AM
1 Comments:
Thank you for focusing on my oneirological idiosyncrasies rather than my confession of past never-nudism.
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