Friday, May 05, 2006

On The Good Foot.


Wild Rhythms!
Escape To Paradise!
Spicy Rhythms!
Ethnic Zebra!
Secret Land!

I am working at a company where these terms are bandied about with a straight face on conference calls. Seriously. Are you kidding me here? Barf. I knew working in the fashion industry (I want to kick myself for utilizing that term by the way) was going to be gross, but what I didn't anticipate was blushing with shame for others while at my desk, fucking off. It's like that feeling you get when you see some poor guy in a plush taco costume, handing out flyers for some godawful Mexican restaurant. It's eye-avertingly, half-hearted smilingly uncomfortable.


As I was walking to the F train this fine morn, a young lady drove by in her Jeep blaring "Conceited" by Remy Ma. I strolled along to it as if I was in a music video and mentally calculated what I would wear were I to star in it. Also, I picked my back up dancers and was halfway through their coordinating, complementary-to-but-not-overpowering-towards-my-outfit get ups when the light changed, she sped off, and the music faded. Bittersweet. I take this as an omen. It's going to be a good day.

Sorry about my arm herpes.

After last night, I made a new rule: no bringing home "cool stuff" I find on the street when drunk to decorate the apartment. Because as anyone who's fallen in love at last call knows, what's cool when you're liquored up has a way of being not so neat in the harsh light of day. I think when one is swilling Coors Lite, it seems perfectly rational to trudge home with a giant antique handwriting chart that's been discarded from the grimy public school next door. But when one wakes up to take a perfunctory shower before work and is startled by the newest addition to her rat's nest, then one must set sober boundaries for herself.

My catchphrase update:
Here are some contenders-

"My bosoms!" (to be shreiked and pronounced, bah-zooms)
"I'm the boss of applesauce!"
"No panties, no justice."
"My shirt got me laid."
"My woes are overrated."
"Lose the pants, handsome."

More updates on this to follow.

2 comments:

anne altman said...

Wild Rhythms!
Escape To Paradise!
Spicy Rhythms!
Ethnic Zebra!
Secret Land!

Not laughing. This is very serious. My face? It's straight. So is my sexuality, but nobody seems to care.

DelorumRex said...

Tought to decide between the panties and the pants.. ahh hell loose em all lets have a party!