It's Friday, thank heavens. Work was not good and Westlife have split. Had a conversation with a male co-worker yesterday and told him that I was in mourning due to the split. He asked, (mostly for fresh ammunition with which to skit me with for the next few weeks;) who was my favourite? It's Mark, (blank look,) the one that's gay? (Blank look.) Amazing voice, (blank look with a shrug.) Gorgeous looking? (An even bigger shrug to accompany more blankness.) Why is it that woman can say, "that woman is gorgeous." But men can't acknowledge another man's handsomeness? I think women are just more evolved that way.
The weather has been wild, as I told you. Blown off your feet wild, or, maybe it's just the street I work on, (in a non prostitute fashion.) That street is like a wind tunnel, even in summer. I'm still in a trench coat, but I think it's almost time to hatch out the woollen winter coat.
Wednesday night, I watched an episode of SATC which almost made me cry, it was so sad. (Maybe I'm just prematurely hormonal?) Anyway, it was Carrie's 35th Birthday. She was due to meet up with nine friends at Italian restaurant, il cantinori, and oh wow, she looked fabulous in a bright red two piece, long flowing skirt and matching midriff baring top, topped off with black velvet fascinator.
No one turned up, except the delivery person with her birthday cake, which she had to pay for herself, all $70.00 worth. All her friends were either stuck in traffic or, at the wrong venue. After a considerable amount of time, Carrie was asked to leave as the restaurant couldn't hold the table any longer, (been there, you're on your own, so it's okay apparently, for the staff to ask you to hurry up and finish your coffee as they need the table.)
On her way home, Carrie stepped in wet cement and came under fire from a troupe of NYC workmen. In between tiptoeing back and forth and apologising profusely, or at least trying to be heard over the yelling from the workmen, the box she was carrying broke and her birthday cake splatted onto the wet cement, for which she was berated further.
Carrie arrived back at her empty apartment, to a barrage of messages on her answer phone, all from friends who were delayed, stuck and altogether in the wrong place. Finally, Charlotte arrived at the apartment to collect Carrie and take her for coffee, just the four friends. Over steaming hot coffee, Carrie declared her loneliness and longing for a relationship. Charlotte proposed that they each be each others soul mates, and they just find great, nice guys to have fun with.
If your eyeballs are not in the slightest bit moist at this point, I must just have been hormonal.
Exercise has been hit and mostly miss this week. I could feel last weekend's lunges until Wednesday, at which point I did a few more. The trick must be to do them regularly, so that they don't hurt as much. I jogged for 30 minutes this morning, and I'll try to talk myself into something later.
No comments:
Post a Comment