The date is February
25, 2012, which is exactly 2 days before my 26th birthday on Monday.
The date is 02/27/1986……
Words cannot describe
the uber joyous love I feel. I had a grand time celebrating my upcoming
birthday with my good friend, Linda Mui. I have a feeling, we'll always be
friends as close as they come, a year from now and forever. At least that’s
what the card says and I love cards: I’m a sucker for the words because they
stem from a symbolic meaning between two spirits, people, life or whatever
you’ve deemed true. I loved the card and the book, which I thought was so sweet
even though I already purchased the same copy a year ago. Chelsea Chelsea Bang
Bang is what they called it: the book written by Chelsea Handler. It was a nice
gesture and I'm going to get a new one once she returns it: The Lies that
Chelsea Told Me. And yes is another Chelsea Handler book. That was beside the
point. Dinner at Luce's on the Upper West Side was amazing and I adored yet
savored the Pinot Noir. Along, with our chats of love, life, romance and the
funny shit that happens in my life. You know, I never cease to amaze myself or
others (including Linda), because I happen to be the only person I know who can
attract the attention span of a freaking weirdo or slum-lord, while reading
Chelsea Handler or writing about the everyday shit we call life. Happily of
course, besides that I do seek to inspire. But, there aren't enough sane people
in New York City to do so. The world is so convoluted and I have associates who
ask me ridiculous questions about relationships, three-some's and women: I'm
not a doctor. I say I love men and I was made for a man. For those of you that
don't know, I mean the penetration of man. Haha. We were all made for men, but
the truth is that ladies should know that worth more than a cheap screw and a
night through the drive-thru. I know from experience, once you show your ass, I
don’t need so obtain some glad, “as in the garbage bags.” Well of course, I'm
looking for substance and it's your character that counts: I have to think
again, because I won't find Mr. Right, chances are that he'll find me. And I'm
a classy woman or because I'm chatting with my friend at this Thai restaurant
in Chelsea after our trip from the Upper West Side, all due to the hilariously
ludicrous folks I've come across in my almost 26 years of life. I'm quite
thankful and the women chatter keeps on coming. Linda and I converse with one
another back and forth, decide on some drinks: the Lemon Dragon for her and
another Pinot Noir for me. Followed by a “Mermaid Roll” appetizer with
shrimp and bacon wrapped in a roll: it's called mermaid and it's tastes odd,
which isn’t a good combination. Although, anything's worth a shot and we are
still at it. It's been ages since Kiwi hell and all the crappy things we had to
do in order to sustain the test of time with that job. It was hell, but we
always had good times. Just like tonight, which was a lovely evening filled
with drinks, Italian and Thai food amongst the restaurants. The thing is if I
thought all along I'd find a hot white, black or Jewish guy to date or for a
night-cap, I thought wrong. I may have been thinking it through however, I
deserve better than the average few. Suddenly, I don't think I'd do the
night-cap as I'm seeking something more valuable, not your local dollar store
bum. There's got to be more to life than that, but we sure as heck know I
wasn't finding a white man there. Well, not one that was available at the Thai
place. It's funny because Luce's
was like that, but brewing with more older refined clientele, a more than we
could count. Although, I love the fact that the place was classy and well put
together. Much more my style, even if the waiter abhors their job. I felt we
tipped him “our waiter” well over the charm rate. I say charm rate
because we weren’t given none whatsoever. And they should put a smile on
because this world isn't nice. I suppose Italian isn't his thing, and he
couldn't even recommend me a meal because as he says it "I don't do
pasta." It's like this "you cannot do pasta, you ass-wipe, you must
eat pasta." I hope he understood this (even if I was pondering the very
thought) because he was still angry when we left. Linda and I remained
hospitable. He hates his job and the proof is in the pudding…. The grand point
I'm trying to make is don't worry, be happy because life's too short. I had a
wonderful time with my good friend today, my birthday is Monday, February 27th
and I'll do it all over again with another friend, while going to see a play.
The name of the play is “Million Dollar Quartet.” It's fun to catch up with
good friends and loved ones: especially the smart ones. It's best to stay on
the same page. Live, love, laugh and be true to you. That's what counts: the
simple things. I’ve enjoyed while catching up and I only wish I could catch up
with a decadent piece of testosterone, but the time with come for that. I'm
about that: but now I'm about me. I come first and my circle... I think the
dinner was good and can't wait to go see "How to Succeed in Business
Without Really Trying." ™ We'll have a blast at the show. The thing is, I
hope the ushers don't have a fork up their ass like our waiter. We had fun and
I'll do just that, known as Linda's indirect suggestion: compile this and every
other experience into one book. It'll really stir the waters. Anything's
possible and the birthday countdown begins… The ending of 25 is the beginning
of something new...if you can
act, you can write it. ©February 25, 2012.
