My neighbor is a stoner

This I’ve known since he moved in.  What’s funny is he’s now singing about it, which I can’t determine if that means he’s putting out a beacon call for “friends” or just an excited stoner. 

Charlie and I were coming up the hallway when we heard him singing, “And I’m gonna get high-ihhhh as a kite right now.” This is an appropriate selection for him because he kind of looks like EJ.  He’s in his late 40’s and about 5’2″. It doesn’t matter much, I’m a firm believer in iron boundaries between neighbors.

My people

I just love this guy. He rides my bus on the way home and this hat makes me smile every time I see it. The eyeballs!!! I love it.

This pic is the background on my phone.

p.s. groovy Christmas tunes are streaming via FredFlares “Staff Picks” Boom Box…http://www.fredflare.com/images/nav/music_ov.gif
or http://www.fredflare.com/customer/home_reind3.php?siteID= and click on Music, choose staff pics.
I also dig DJ Mo.

11 days and counting

Eleven days until I’m homeless. I’m taking the move very seriously and maybe that’s one of the reasons I’m still without an address. I just don’t want to settle.  Here’s what I’ve done today to move myself closer to my goal of securing an address.

8:30 AM, woke up and let Charlie out, fed Charlie, let Charlie in, fell back asleep.

10:00 AM, woke up, called Doug to remind him that banana pudding is on tonight’s menu, lay in bed for an hour watching TV.

11:00 AM, move my body out of bed and look for lotion, because my legs are really dry and itchy.

11:15, find my lotion and also find my weed stash, apply lotion, roll joint and head for bathroom.

11:20, start running water for a bath, start smoking joint, put out half way through.

11:45 relax in bath, read the back of my bubble bath (Philosophy’s Mint shower gel, shampoo, bubble bath), get overwhelmed, read it again, sigh and lay down in the tub.

11:50, light the remaining joint, relax.

12:00, shave my legs (past the knee, because I’m a slut), marvel over my tan legs, note to myself that I was designed to be tan, relax and lay in the steamy water for a while.

12:30, after being thoroughly wrinkled, decide I really wanted a shower all along.

12:40, finish shower, towel off. Remember that banana pudding is on the menu, head to kitchen and prepare BP.

1:30, finish Banana pudding!  Yummy!!! Eat a sample, leaving enough for Doug.  Also, invent the following recipes:
Banana GrahamCracker Treat (BGCT for short)
Half banana.  Spread one half with Graham cracker crust (GCC) mix.  sandwich mix with other banana half.  Enjoy with sweet tea or cherry Kool-aid.

Banana pudding sandwich
Warm two pieces of soft white bread. Apply GCC mix to one side of bread.  Top mix with thinly sliced bananas.  Sandwich with the other piece of bread.  Enjoy with a glass of milk or a soda.

1:45, start blogging, watch Judge Mathis.  And this is where we’ll stop for today.  I leave you with this quote from Judge Mathis…”I’m all about tough love.  Emphasis on the love.”

Nerd

I’m tired of us pretending that nerds are cool.  They’re not.  If you’re cool, then you’re not a nerd.  You could be a quirky cool person, but you’re not a nerd.  The guy in this 9-1-1 call is a nerd.  I hope the 9-1-1 operator told this jerk, “You’re not dead.  you’re stoned. And you’re a nerd for calling 9-1-1.”

Rump Shaker mixed with Barry Manilow

This song takes me back to freshman year high school.  There was lots of weed, lots of sex, lots of time, but no money and no parents.  In high school I was totally into the grunge scene, but I couldn’t shake R&B.  So my CDs comprised Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, Nirvana, Wallflowers, Sonic Youth, STP mixed with PM Dawn, Whitney Houston, Montell Jordan, BabyFace, En Vogue and Janet Jackson.  Mixed into all this was my dad’s record collection, which included John Denver, Temptations, Barry Manilow, Bette Midler, Helen Reddyand random 45s.

Random?  Yes.  But, that’s where I feel most comfortable.

BTW, I’m pretty sure I’m annoying my cube-mate with my random play list.  But, you know what?  She annoys me everyday through no fault of her own, just because I’m a temperamental and manic being. She knows that, she has to.  It’s nothing personal.  Until next time, darlings.

Know your fee, hooker.

On the train this morning, a gentleman of questionable means, started to chat me up.  Know this, when I’m on the train I do everything in my powers to look unavailable for conversation.  I wear ear buds, even when I’m not listening to anything.  I read a book or magazine. And, I wear sunglasses.  Regrettably, these barriers don’t always hold everyone at a distance. Back to this morning.  I avoided his conversation as  long as possible, until he started in with, “Miss?  Miss?  can you hear me.” What a fucking moron.  I pulled my ear buds out and, while still wearing my sunglasses, said, “What’s wrong with you?”

He started complimenting my hair, and my neck, and my purple shirt.  I’m thinking, get to the fucking point. So, I say, “Thank you. What do you want? Where are you going with this?”  He replied, “Oh, you’re so direct.” 

(I should point out this dude’s appearance was all-in-all pulled together; he was approximately 25, a little bit hipster and a little bit bohemian. I’m not going to lie, I was diggin’ his style.  He was not homeless, but he was definitely trite. If he was homeless I would have said, “thank you” and put my ear buds back in and he would have respected that.)

Anyways, I just repeated myself, “Where are you going with this?” And then he started telling me about his photography studio (room at his mom’s) and this new “photography study” he’s “embarking upon” that tries to place two “juxtapositions” next to each other.  I know, he didn’t even use the word correctly.  Maybe this line stuns and appeals to his other “subjects”, but I could care less about his new study.  I told you he was trite.  Long story short, he asked me to be one of his “subjects.” And I asked him, “How much are you paying your subjects?”

(A girl must always know her fee and never be flattered out of money.  That would be fucking ridiculous and an insult to all the hardworking hookers that came before us. )

Of course, he started in with his rhetoric about art and expanding people’s minds and how I would be part of this great experiment. Alas, he and I will never be.  The only experiments I do to expand my mind are drug experiments, and I expect the same from others.  I told him, with a smile, “Your study sounds interesting and your intentions harmless, but I’m not in the mood to negotiate my fee. This is my stop. Good luck with your study.”

Maybe I missed out on a opportunity.  But, I think not.  Maybe I’ll see him again.  Maybe we’ll be friends.