Unemployment Journal V: Backrubs and Lies (E-Bitch's Gradual Virtual Nervous Breakdown Continues)
Posted Thu Feb 15 08:41:40 2001 by ebitch |
By ebitch
dear unemployment journal,
sorry i haven't written in so long. i've been busy sending out
resumes, going on job interviews, receiving awards, having mind-blowing
sex, and being taken out to lunch at such places as bouley, nobu, and
chanterelle.
just kidding.
i have been sending out resumes, but the rest is a lie. i did
manage to get taken to raoul's, though, during linux world, when the
fabulous slashdot team came to new york and my friend grant, a
break-beat, fierce white guy with enough ego strength to ask for
ketchup (not _catsup_- what the hell is _catsup_ anyway?) in an uppity
soho bistro made good on his eoffer of a back rub.
he said to me as i was relaxing on his hotel bed flipping through
the lame-ass tv channels in my leather pants, boots and turtleneck, so
are you going to hold me to the backrub?'
because i was feeling evil, i said m-hm.
he said ok.
i proceeded to turn my back and remove my fabulous, black banana
republic turtleneck and matching brassiere, followed by my very
spiritually-significant rudruksha (symbolizing the tears of lord shiva)
beads which have been in contact with the padukas, or sandals, of
swamis nityananda and muktananda. then, i threw myself on my stomach
and received the back rub.
i like grant, he has very good taste in music. he also showed me what linux looks like. hi, grant (wink, wink).
i just wrote a song. it goes like this:
last night i attended a nynma cybersuds event, which was held in
honor of valentine's day, and promised a job, and love. i prefer the
job. they had a terribly boring panel of recruiters and a marketing
sleaze and i left for that going instead to a cybercafe nearby where i
enjoyed a latte and also made friends with a rock musician who loved my
glasses and who was very likely high on cocaine.
i was feeling heartsick because i don't have a valentine and a
friend of mine who loves the indian people and who identifies with my
overly-emotional operating system came over and dragged me outside into
the day after insisting i get dressed. we saw some other friends and we
all had coffee
and wound up talking about movie stars (not interesting), exercises
that tighten your butt, the economy, and then two out of three of us
admitted we want to become therapists.
i stepped outside for a moment to receive a call and yet _another_
friend walked by and gave me his card and said i should come over to
the grand canyon diner to chat with him. i didn't go, but i will call
him soon. he's a nice man who's in the real estate business. his hair
is closely cropped to his head in a sort of mullet, but he is friendly
and intense.
i made the _i'll call you_ sign, which entails creating a pantomime
telephone with my right hand, where the pinkie becomes the receiver and
the thumb is the part you listen to. the pinkie/receiver is raised to
your lips, the thumb to your ear. you mouth the words, _call me._ i
think he understood.
after i put a dollar in the jukebox and chose two sheryl crow songs and a blondie song (_sunday girl_) and had my coffee,
which was served in a mug on a saucer, which is incorrect form since a
mug stands alone and a saucer requires a proper cup, we left. we
dropped friend number one (alison, who likes her entire body waxed
before going to l.a.) off at a health food store on remsen street and i
followed friend number two (bree, who just spent one thousand dollars
getting her cat repaired) along on her errands, the first of which was
to find drano, that being the brand name for a generic class of
pipe-penetrating products in the same way _kleenex_ is understood to
mean tissue, _tampax_ is understood to mean feminine sanitary items,
and so on. we went to cvs and found the drain opening products and then
compared, together, in a conscientious way, the cvs brand versus the
name brand. we realized there was a higher concentration of something
in the name brand, so the name brand was purchased.
i bought a large box of hefty trash bags, with thirty-five (35)
bags because i'm into purging my belongings right now, in the spirit of
letting go of everything that no longer serves my highest good, and
also a box of kleenex coldcare tissues because i'm too classy to blow
my nose with wadded up toilet paper. it's taken me a long time to buy a
real box of tissues. why is that?
i wish the design of tissue boxes wasn't so muzak-y, really, the
designs on tissue boxes should all be against the law. they are like
the visual version of elevator music. so benign it's painful.
did i mention how much i love water?
water rules. did you see tank girl? when you see tank girl, you
want water. you want bottles of evian, cold, and lots of them.
sometimes i get so thirsty i can't believe it.
don't tell me all bottled water is the same, because it isn't.
evian is the best. poland spring is bitter. i simply _adore_ evian.
i have just learned that the word _gray_ can be spelled either _gray_ or _grey._
i was told today to focus on the two gs. god, and grooming.
conclusions for today:
valentines day is ridiculous. i will revise my resume yet another
time, removing titles that scare prospective employers by making them
think i require six figures, which i do, but i am flexible. i will read
strunk and white's elements of style again so i can remember how to
write properly and use the possessive s. i will call my mother, who
works at an eyeglass store and sprays perfume in department stores
sometimes, and tell her to ask all her boyfriends if they know anyone
who needs someone like me.
also, i will
(1) pick up my dry cleaning.
(2) drop off my laundry.
(3) vacuum.
(4) buy some socks.
(5) go to the gym. at the gym, i will (a) do thirty (30) minutes on
the tread mill, (b) some butt and thigh exercise machines and (c) maybe
run for twenty (20) minutes.
(6) call alison to (a) see how her anxiety is, and (b) so she can remind me how fierce i am.
note to self:
should i change my name to something more spiritual?
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Name:
Email:
Date: Thu Feb 22 09:24:35 2001
Comment: But what about the orange ones? And the peach ones? somebody got those, and I didn't know they even existed.
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Name: annie
Email:
Date: Wed Feb 21 21:04:26 2001
Comment: yellow roses=jealousy, pink roses=friendship, red roses=romantic love, white roses=purity.... and it scares me that I know that
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Name:
Email:
Date: Wed Feb 21 17:51:25 2001
Comment: it's fitting that you have complete control over all content on this page.
try a little courage, maxipad
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Name: Emily Dresner-Thornber
Email: emily@netslaves.com
Date: Fri Feb 16 09:46:04 2001
Comment: Actually, I prefer not to get any flowers. They're messy and they die. I would vastly prefer a nice meal or an expensive bottle of Merlot (or Vodka-ha!) instead.
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Name: bob
Email: pale_13@usa.net
Date: Fri Feb 16 08:38:20 2001
Comment: Monty, I concur. I've always heard yellow = friendship, but I don't know about the pink ones.
But you know what? My wife loves yellow roses, and I don't think she'd visit a lawyer just because the color of a flower.
The only thing I can confirm is that if you show up with
dandelions, most women are going to think you're too cheap to buy real
flowers if you're giving them weeds. That could get you in trouble.
Ladies, would I be correct in saying you're just happy to get roses, period?
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Name: bill
Email: bill@netslaves.com
Date: Fri Feb 16 08:27:07 2001
Comment: Monty,
I believe you're right on both accounts. Yellow = friendship. Pink = love, but not in-love.
But of course, I could be wrong because I'm a geek.
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Name: monty
Email: montyphan@hotmail.com
Date: Fri Feb 16 00:25:05 2001
Comment:
just a quick poll: is it common knowledge that yellow roses signify
friendship? because i got my wife yellow roses (she once said she was
sick of red), and my mom was appalled. she said, "yellow? yellow means
joy or friendship." i think she thinks this means we're headed for
divorce or something. so what do pink roses mean? "i love you, but i'm
not IN love with you"? |
Name: Grant
Email: ggross66@yahoo.com
Date: Thu Feb 15 23:32:05 2001
Comment: Sometimes a backrub is just a backrub.
I read "Vox" before Monica made it cool, I feel like a "a break-beat, fierce white guy" once again.
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Name: mahatma bitch
Email: ebitch@netslaves.com
Date: Thu Feb 15 23:19:32 2001
Comment:
hiya grant. dotcommie, i got a backrub. what else? secret confession: i
am now reading the trashy book called 'vox' which monica lewinsky was
found to be reading after reporters sniffed her credit card receipt
trail in d.c. after that, i will finish reading my book about the
history of plastic.
where'd that whining eric person go? doesn't he sound a lot like barlow?
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Name: bob
Email: pale_13@ usa.net
Date: Thu Feb 15 20:18:04 2001
Comment: Shouldn't that be "back rub"? If not, I must have missed a few pages in the Kama Sutra...:)
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Name: dotcommie
Email: commie@youworkit.com
Date: Thu Feb 15 20:10:42 2001
Comment: So you were topless, sitting on the hotel bed ... and about to get a back run from Grant.
So what happened? Don't leave us in suspense.
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Name: Grant
Email:
Date: Thu Feb 15 17:57:02 2001
Comment: Damn, I can't even fill out the name field right. How "a break-beat, fierce white guy" is that?
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Name: Hi, ebitch
Email: ggross66@yahoo.com
Date: Thu Feb 15 17:54:23 2001
Comment: Hi, back. I watched Ed and the West Wing on VDay. Exciting.
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Name: bill
Email: bill@netslaves.com
Date: Thu Feb 15 17:51:45 2001
Comment: "Thanks," I mean. I hope you see how this crap happened. Ugh!
So ends a fucked-up day...
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Name: bill
Email: bill@netslaves.com
Date: Thu Feb 15 17:51:04 2001
Comment: Thank, Beagle. I rule.
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Name: Beagle
Email:
Date: Thu Feb 15 17:49:25 2001
Comment: nice goin' Bill.
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Name: bill
Email: bill@netslaves.com
Date: Thu Feb 15 17:47:51 2001
Comment: Hello,
I just fuckin' hosed everyone's posts. This FTP program I'm using is a piece of shit. Sorry.
If I'm not mistaken, Eric was lecturing us on how to run this site, because not every inch of it isn't substantive.
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