Tampons and Ramen

Dallas.

Me and three half-naked sexy guys in a club. I was so lucky! I was like the only girl in a whole club full of guys!

Heyyyyy, wait a minute...

posted by Tampons and Ramen @ 11:20 PM 0 comments links to this post

This entire Memorial day weekend, I was miserably heartbroken, mood down, sick thud in my diaphragm, lacking the desire to pull up any energy for fun. Too much easier to mope, the way I do sometimes when I get in those moods.

The only thing that saved me was PW Stain visiting me for the weekend, although I was a lousy hostess. Too busy moping. She went to a club Sunday night without me, I who live to dance refused to go.

I had called to find out what the cover was ($20) and what kind of music there would be (hip hop) and I checked out the dress code on line. (no sandals. No open toed shoes. No tank tops. No Fubu.) I told the guy on the phone I had planned on wearing a high heeled sandal. He said the rules didn't apply to girls.

I told PW Stain "I don't feel like going, it's hip hop, I like disco techno."

I was in bed reading erotica by candlelight next to my sleeping boyfriend when she got back to my apartment around 1 am. She had to pass thru the bedroom to get to the bathroom.

"you'll ruin your eyes!" she said when she saw me, which was funny.

As a kid I snuck flashlights under the blankets or put a night light in the outlet closest to my bed so I could secretly read late at night. Sometimes I'd get caught and get yelled at for being up.

"you'll ruin your eyes!" my mom would say.

This afternoon, PW Stain said it seemed like Filipino night at the club, and short black guys.
"They seem to have the Asian fetish," she said, "The short black guys."

I added, "And tall white guys."

She agreed.

"I'm glad for that, though," I said. "That's where I got my height."

PW Stain introduced me to the term Asian Fetish several years back. It fit my father perfectly. He, a tall white guy, married my mom, a Japanese lady, cheated on her with another Japanese lady, divorced my mom, married the second Japanese lady, not sure if he divorced her or not, but had another long term affair with yet another Japanese lady, then went back to the second.

PW Stain and I giggled that I should get him an Asian Playboy Magazine for Christmas.

A talented artist and photographer, Stain did a series of baseball cards featuring Asian Women. She titled the peice, "Collect them all." (AND she gave me credit for coming up with that line. Yay Stain!) Being Asian, some of her artwork had Asian-ness as a theme.

Today, Memorial Day, I woke up and decided not to get up, and lazed around in bed for quite some time. PW Stain was sitting on the bed talking to me when I heard my name being called. It was my former neighbor John, yelling at me from outside. I came out in my nightgown, standing on my balcony at noon, while John yelled, "Rapunzel Rapunzel, let down your hair!" He told me how beautiful I looked, asked me if I lost weight, and kept saying, "Wow!" He asked me to turn around. He is a veteran. It was Memorial Day. I turned around in my nightgown and waved at him with my ass, my patriotic duty.

It was nice to hear him laugh and fill me with compliments. I needed them. Especially after a weekend of moping, spending altogether too much time in bed, no make up on, unbrushed hair--the whole morning look. At noon.

I finally got dressed. I bought Stain lunch, a 2 month belated birthday present. We ate sushi. I ordered inari and a crunchy roll, she ordered eel rolls.

After lunch, we shopped. I was trying on some girly dresses that I'd pulled from the clearance rack in Ann Taylor, and I overheard a woman in another fitting room speaking to the salesclerk.

I thought to myself,

"I will never in my life ever utter those words. Those words will NEVER come out of my mouth."

The words I overheard the woman say:

"Can you get me this in a size four?"

Later, we were standing in front of Nicole Miller, and STain asked if I wanted to go in.

"Why?" I asked. "I can't afford anything in there."

So we went in.

A pretty salesgirl asked, "Are you on a mission?"

I found my way to the clearance rack, and discreetly checked the price of a small pink cotton tank top. It had been marked down to $195.

After we left, I told Stain about the tank top. I said, "The little tank top was $195. I should have told the salesgirl that we could get the same thing at Ann Taylor for only $50."

Stain and I laughed. We could probably get two of them for $8 Hanes Her Way. I said to stain, as the salesgirl had,

"ARe you on a mission?"

Stain said, "Yes, we'd like to find soemthing in here for thirty dollars."

We laughed.

posted by Tampons and Ramen @ 10:11 PM 0 comments links to this post

P.W. Stain introduced me to someone's blog. (I won't mention names) This girl just blogs about how cute she is, and how sad she is for unfortunate people, and how she wore the cutest top that accentuates her waist and brings out her eyes, etc. etc., and P.W. Stain and I read it to each other and we giggle. Entire blog entries about how she loves the look of her own freshly blowdried hair. Sometimes I think it's really cute and I think of how I used to be in my early twenties (still depressed with an entire wardrobe of black). Not that writing about tampons and poverty is any better, but anyway...

So here's my shallow blog entry. I blow dried my hair. I used Paul Mitchell mousse. (that belongs to the boyfriend, as sadly, my only hair product is a scrunchy) I ended up with a style that was exactly eighties metal band hair. Boyfriend and I were going out to dinner, he was hungry, and I had no time to undo the do. I figured what the hell. It's a taco shop. I'll wear the metal hair. Maybe it was the hair, but I suddenly felt very daring, and didn't button up my tee shirt. I have not shown this much cleavage since my last breast exam where I got felt up by a doctor. Second base, aaalll rigghhhht! (kidding. sort of.)

And I'm jiggling into the taco shop, and I notice that its not the guys checking out the cleavage, it's the women. The longest glace was from a little girl just around puberty. I remember being about 11 years old being so devastated and depressed because I was getting boobs. It was awful. I remember wailing, "They're getting bigger by the minute!" and almost in tears. They weren't even boobs, just barely a swelling of the areola, smaller than rosebuds, but no longer totally flat. Mosquito bite size, really. Damn, I was upset. I still remember that.

posted by Tampons and Ramen @ 9:36 PM 0 comments links to this post

The aforementioned Rockstar Tee Shirt, which I will be retiring. Boyfriend hates it, Shelby hates it, and I think it is a little too trailer trash for me. (but totally appropriate for drinking beer out of plastic cups in a bowling alley.)

Had a blast in Oklahoma. Photographed Sunny's wedding. That's her next to me. She won't know until she reads this, but fuck if I can't figure out my dang camera. Nine out of ten pics were out of focus. I can't figure it out. I don't have that problem with any of my cameras, just the one I spent the most money on. I am so pissed at that fucking thing. (Don't worry Sunny, even though 9 out of 10 were bad, I took 600+ pictures...)

So after the wedding, we were like, "What's there do do in Oklahoma?" Someone said there was a bowling alley nearby. We all went back to our hotel rooms and changed clothes, (too bad Sunny didn't keep her wedding gown on) and went bowling. Sunny kidded about her redneck wedding (with bowling reception), but know what? It was the funnest dang wedding I've ever been to.

posted by Tampons and Ramen @ 12:09 AM 3 comments links to this post