Had a great night tonight. Got off work early today, came home and declared war on the houseflys in my home. First, I got out the bleach spray. Then I got out the Dyson. They never had a chance.
Seriously folks, it’s gross. And all of my clients I ask or tell about this claim to have the same problem. But here’s the deal. I don’t believe them. For some reason, I believe it’s something I have done wrong that is causing me this strife. So….I kicked their ass. collectively.
Then I got myself cleaned up and drove about 40 minutes outside of town
and ate the BEST FRIED CHICKEN AND FRIED OKRA AND OH WAIT SOME CHILI CHEESE NACHOS FOR APPETISERS and drank the coldest beer in the county and laughed until the gas bubbles in my stomach erupted!!! Oh. My God. It was fun. Me and my pseudo sisters #2 and #3 plus two clients of #2 that we’ve hung out with before an a friend of theirs.
This friend was a fella. Boy. Single. hmmmmmmmmm…..
is this a “set up” or a “looksee” or a regular ole invite for chicken? I have no clue and frankly no cares. I’m all about the company and the environment and by the way it’s my Friday night so fuck off. bring me a beer.
We laughed our way through the cardiac arrest that was before us, greasy and on wax paper pieces for plates. (it’s a brilliant gastronomic event) and we’re cracking the wise and making the funny and yes. Do you know me?? I can be loud. My laugh is….variable sometimes but when it is true and raw and from my womb…it’s loud.
So I’m chiming in with the funny, and because you all know me you know I trend towards the bawdy and this guy makes the statement that “there’s a line and you crossed it way over there. Also, yes she’s funny but that table right over there knows she is funny too.”
now, don’t paint half your face blue and get out the sword, it wasn’t like that. Just some sidebar comments. But it became clear, the more he made eye contact with me, the more that night wore on….I’m just too…..much? loud? raunchy?
I wrote a piece this week about being too…. It was in my current reading material and I ripped it out of the redhead’s hands when I inadvertantly handed it over to him. Not ready for public consumption. But I understand that I am too…
but I guess I only saw that in my head…never in someone else’s eyes before.
and I’m not climbing on the cross that says SINGLE at the top in ancient writings. No. Not that at all. Merely stating an observation of the night.
It all goes back to one of the first pieces that I wrote and actually performed for auditions…the final line reading:
“…he’s just not ready for my brilliance.”