who is hungry monkey?

i've been going through the list of people it could be and can't figure it out.

it's already starting.

in retrospect it's really funny.
yesterday i sat on the computer watching michael walk all over the apartment looking for his keys. definitely a mystery as to where they went. i couldn't understand where they possibly could be. we had made it into the apartment the night before, and michael is exceptionally tidy, and i hadn't had a chance to wreck the place.
so, according to michael at least an hour had passed before i said "maybe they're in my pocket"
i stood up. put my hand in my pocket. and there they were.

there was absolutely no good reason for those keys to be in my pocket.

i was still drunk....

i was definitely still drunk from the night before when jenndaly, andypants and i drove to the airport.
totally dukes of hazard as i jumped out the passenger side window at the airport, grabbed my carry on and yelled "goodbye texas!"
it wasn't until we were in the air and i was listening to the "cinemagic" station on the XM radio that i lost my shit. pretty in pink was the featured film. i don't know if you know anything about this station, but let me explain what they do.
they play the musical soundtrack in it's entirety. during the songs, and in the transitions between songs they edit in bits of dialogue from the movie. so here i am listening to OMD singing "if you leave" with snippets of molly ringwald and andrew mc carthy have their exchange about believing in each other and love.
i totally lost my shit.
who knows what the guy sitting next to me must have thought. especially since just moments before i was still caught in my still drunk, transvestite voice (which has become very popular with me lately). then i'm suddenly looking out the window and crying, trying to decide if i want to order my bloody mary mix with vodka in it or not...
once pretty and pink ends and we move on to ferris bueller's day off i didn't have much of a problem pulling it together. i was able to keep it together until shortly before we landed. at that point i was on the 70s station listening to neil diamond's "i am, i said". i love this song. and i lost it even harder than i did listening to andrew and molly.
so anyway, i leave jfk, get on the A train, get on the J train, and as i exit the train at Hewes i start walking down the platform and the only other person there is my lovely michael. in his favorite orange mexican homeless shelter t-shirt. with a bouquet of sunflowers.

he's so perfect.
i have the next 2.5 weeks with him before i leave for training.
it's going to be incredible.

xo

i want to be a flight attendant....

i can save you all. look to me for instructions when the plane begins to fall...

i start flight attendant training on april 16th.

also...i leave austin today. for nyc. i'm totally gonna get laid.

finally.

i love you michael.

it's alright to cry.

i haven't masturbated in over 22 days.

the cleaners

as she worked her way across the floor with a bottle of simple green and a roll of towels she remained astonished by the fact that the river of blood that covered the floor somehow never hit the furniture or any of the rugs.
it made the clean-up exceptionally easy.

and in addition

saturday afternoon he sat on the back stoop. she walked into the garage and pulled out an old wine crate. in the sun she unraveled the hose and began to wash the cobwebs out of the corners of a wooden shell.
in the mist of his hang over he looked at the situation and without thought very matter of factly said..."you have a wet box."
she very matter of factly replied, "i sure do..."

i never travel without my box.

all grown up now the two of them sat side by side. drinking. telling and re-telling secrets of past and present. stories of being young and stupid. stories of acting young and stupid. as they raised their glasses to clink she opened her mouth to say "here's to tight lips."
she paused. you could see her processing what she had just said. she continued "...both kinds."

both kinds. truly.

i hate blogger right now. i really really do.

list. alison is rubbing off on me.

not to be confused with rubbing one out on me.

1. so, last tuesday night i turned the ringer off on my phone before i went to sleep.
in the middle of the night the phone rang. it startled me. i looked at the number and it was an austin number so i answered it. (i have a houston phone #. i get lots of calls from houston and i know they will be wrong numbers, so i rarely answer my phone). it was my girlfriend/co-worker rebeca calling from a friend's phone. she said "i know it's late and i'm sorry but i have a proposition for you. if you can work happy hour bartending wednesday and friday i will find someone to cover your friday cocktail shift and i'll give you $200 on top of it."
i agreed and hung up the phone...that equals at least $400 for minimal pain.
i looked at the phone to see what was up with my ringer, and it had been turned off the whole time.
weird, huh?
i got other phone calls that night and it never rang.

2. in the past 4 weeks i have won 4 online contests. bob saget tickets, comedy club tickets, alamo drafthouse tickets and a 20% off coupon for some new store on the east side.

3. i went to the dentist and they took away the stains on my front teeth. i hadn't been in 7 years. i only have one cavity.

4. on tuesday i bought my first suit. and a pair of heels.

5. i'm having the black hearts on my arm taken off with lasers.

6. i have an interview with continental airlines at the end of this month.

7. i woke up this morning in bed curled up with renee and jenndaly. i walked out to the living room and saw dot all curled up in bed with another cute chick. awesome way to start the morning.

8. my gremlin is following me.

9. i leave austin in 13 days.

10. i can't stop touching my breasts.

11. last night i was fortunate enough to encounter 6 of the most lovely ladies in austin. in one place. it was beautiful.

blogger hasn't let me post in over a week...it only shows my title, not my text.

and i'm wondering if this one will be the same way. yesterday it tricked me and let me post one, but i deleted it because it was a test post...then it wouldn't let me post anymore.

david bowie. also a jew.

the past couple of days have been a whirlwind. i've been trying to move out of the most perfect little house. i imagined that when i moved out i would need a storage space only for a cedar chest, a footlocker, an elephant, and a pachinko machine. and then a couple of boxes of snowglobes. nothing more.
that is totally not how it is.
i had a dream about the rangerette, last night, by the way.
i have to go back to the house and finish on saturday. i should be there today but i'd missed two days of work already trying to get this shit done. kinda makes me wish i had the balls to just put all of my shit in a big pile, set in on fire and start over.

over the past nine years one of the things i've missed the most about the north east is steam heat. radiators. the coiled kind that you find in older buildings. sometimes they're painted silver. and they suggest sepia toned memories. yellow, smoke-stained light. condensation on the windows. slippers. mittens. hot chocolate. hardwood floors.
last night i was sitting in jenndaly's living room. in her older little texas house. i was looking at her little gas space heater. this particular kind are really common, especially in older houses. open flame. like a tiny gas fire place in the living room. then the bathroom ones that are built into the wall. and i realized how they have worked their way into my memory shelf. and i know in future winters i will be standing in front of my radiator in new york, thinking of texas.