Amster-DAMN!!

Everything about it says no.

I didn't tell you all about the boss talk...When I had an evening out with my male London co-workers.

I was the only girl out two nights in a row until after 1am. I'm a trooper...Or I can be. But it was a FINANCE class the next day. There's no amount of barbituates to keep me up and running for that. I slowly drooped and faded. Tried to get girl friend and hearty trooper, L, out for it. But she had singing and kareoke to be done.

On my own. Late. Zonked. Finance. You fill in the blanks....I was glazed at best.

Boss has talk with me that Friday: "Trix...you just cannot go out with the boys like that. It wears you out." No -- It wasn't the mindless finance shit...Not the endless figures....Not the EBITDA. Not the EBIT. None of that..No..Not that my mind is JELLO. It was my unbridled, TWO night (fer god's sake) in a row partying. (Please insert necessary amount of sappy sarcasm here. Surely, an adult can play two nights and survive.) The boys were just as glazed and dead as I was. Something tells me they didn't get 'the talk'.

So today boss asks me if I want to come join her in Amsterdamn. For fun. She has a hotel room for business. My hard rocking, partying boss. NOT!

Uh - Yeah? I'll come play in Amsterdamn with you. Right after I shove a blowtorch up my ass full force?!?!?! Then I'll make a run for at least 10 hash brownies. And right after that, a full serving of space cake.

Then I'll get a new version of the talk: "Trix....You really cannot smoke hash and visit porn shops right before a meeting. It just wears you out."

Call it a boondoggle on her part. Not sure she even knowns HOW to boondoggle.

I'd be fired in 3 minutes if I attempted that trip with her.

Space Cake and Hash Brownies.

I prefer to keep my feet firmly on American soil with my amazingly American boss. Let her think think this is my status quo. Nothing out of line for me. THANKS! (But, really....Where's the space cake and hash brownies?!??!!?!)

Total Devastation

There was a fire very near my home a few nights ago. So close to home that it freaked me out for a couple of days. It was on the news. The building looked just like mine, and all I could think was: "That could have been me." I slept right through it...That scares the hell out of me.

And, just so you know, my number one recover-if-I-can item has changed. It was Minie's Salt Jar. That has now changed. Call me a crazy cat or pet freak...But first thing out of the house now is Maggie. Call me a nut, but it is a life....And I am responsible for it. We've had a talk...If I'm home - Go to the front door. If I'm not, go to the open window and SCREAM. (She hated the talk, by the way. It meant being held and confined for at least 30 seconds. Hell on earth for her. But I'm fairly certain she absorbed the important bits.)

One co-worker lived in the obliterated unit. She had no insurance. She lost everything. Everything. She has her car, her purse (waterlogged), and her daytimer. I think that is it. Luckily she had recently moved from a far away city, and her important family and historical things are still there. Still, I drive past that unit and think..."Her life is just gone. It just isn't there. Where it used to be, there is nothing."

I met Ben, who was in the next unit, last Thursday. He also had no insurance. He also lost everything. Came home just as the ceiling collapsed. He's hoping one photo album of his daughter can be salvaged. I've since learned she is nine and has cerebral palsy and is autistic. He was trying his best to be positive and glad he had his life. But you could see the loss and sadness just under the surface. Those blue, blue eyes looked vacant and haunted, instead of the deep pools I suspect they used to be.

So, Friday night the neighborhood clique met for post work/front porch drinks and then headed out to the local pubs. For me, two post work/front porch drinks are enough with the clique. I have no need to be part of their daily hanging out routine. "Good mornings" - Sure. "How was your day" - Sure. "Come have a beer" - Sure. But "Let's hang out every night and hit the bars"? - Not so much. So I headed home.

I guess Ben had also had enough. He sloughed off the party goers and gave calls home to the family as the excuse. I think the poor man had just had too much question and answer. They reaccomodated him in the unit right next door to me, and, as a neighbor should, I offered anything to help...Need a phone? Soap? Towels? Sheets? Anything? Just knock.

And knock he did. He was looking for soap and toothpaste. I had soap, towels, toothpaste, and a brand new toothbrush. As he was walking out, I realized there may be nothing in his new apartment....Literally, nothing. If he doesn't have a toothbrush, could he possibly have a couch or TV? So, I asked him to sit. Watch TV. Have a glass of wine. Talk if he wanted. Just sit if he didn't. He wanted some of both. The partying was too much, but so was being alone.

We sat and talked. And didn't talk. And sat close. And hugged. And one thing lead to another. And there was smooching. And feeling. And....More stuff. Not going to give exact details, but I'd like to think Ben left (the next morning) one very happy man. Don't know that I've ever given three in that short of a timeframe. Just call it my humanitarian duty. Me and the Red Cross.....We take donations.

Shortly after the action subsided and sleep was on its way....I realized...This man has been through one of the greatest traumas ever. And he's somehow keeping it together.

About 5am, he began to shake. And shudder. And make whimpering sounds and crying out. He'd wake up a minute. But the minute he went back to sleep, they started again. It was a frightening thing to witness. I'm an insomniac and have nightmares, so to watch someone go through something real life...Even in their sleep? Horrible. Discomforting. I just hugged him more.

Generally, "hook ups" roll over and sleep on their own side....They don't want the physical contact. Not this time. This guy needed it. If my hand left his chest, it was quickly pulled back. If I rolled away, he grabbed me. When the shaking started, I just rubbed...(Stop it, pervert). The chest, the back, the neck, the head, the leg.

I've never seen a human so in need of comfort. And, call me a slut...but I've also never been so willing to give it. The lithe physique, broad shoulders, steel grey hair and eyes, and nice tan didn't hurt. But I'd like to think I gave Ben just a little bit of comfort and peace that night. He needed human contact with no judgement or expectation.

I'm kind of glad I could be that.

Reality TV At Its Finest

I didn't even really mean to watch it. I just fell upon it while I was on a late evening work conference call from home. I had it muted. On E! for some unknown reason (not a station I frequent). I'm not an active participant on the conference call...More of a listener. So, when I see the interesting word like breasts, labia, and anus flying across the screen...I, of course, MUST mute the conference call and UNmute the TV.

Dr. 90210, if you will. Some of the Nielsen Ratings' finest, I'm sure. You really must see it to believe it.

First off - The female-to-male transexual who has the urge to do away with the ever so offending breasts. OK - No judgement here. Do what makes you feel better and more confident.

Next? The 19 year old whose...Um....Parts....Are just too large for their own good. Causing irritation in sports lycra, so she says. (HUH? I'm hoping we're talking freak of nature here.) So -- They do the ol' snip snip on said offending parts. (I cannot even bring myself to outline the parts. But two are symetrical and one sits just on top.) OW? OWOWOWOWOW? AND NO?!?!?! Do NOT freaking mess with that stuff!

And finally, the anal bleaching. This from a porn star doing her final film. Because she wants it to be "pretty". Yup - Bum in air....Two cheek waxing....And little brush in pot of......STUFF?? That bleachs, again, said part. WHOODA THUNK IT?

AND THE BEST PART? Three of the top 5 friends? P, B and L? ALL SAW IT AS WELL!!! And asked me about it today. Count four sets of gaping open dropped jaws. And four normally mouthy females stunned into silence. And lots of shaking heads and raised eyebrows. No one got the full story...So we all had to fill each other in. Not sure we STILL understand why.

Favorite quote from the whole show: "I LOVE my butterfly now." Needless to say - We're all wondering about our butterflies. (SIGH!)

What the HELL has plastic surgery come to? Snipping my girl parts and bleaching my bum? I DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON'T get it.

But it sure was entertaining TV!!!!

(Please God, Please. Let me get the desired number of visitors from this semi-pornographic, but ever so entertaining post.)

The Longest....Uh...Yeah.....

I saw the remake of The Longest Yard this weekend. I had heard bad reviews, but I LOVED IT!!! As friend, A, says - "Prison movie and football movie COMBINED?? What could be better?" Of course, the fact that Adam Sandler, Chris Rock and Burt Reynolds were thrown in the mix didn't suck either.

Got me to thinking though....About the original Longest Yard. I remember watching at my friend C's house in I'm thinkin about the 7th grade. She was an only child and had a very open relationship with her parents.

I remember her telling me she could hear her parents having sex through the bedroom walls. OK -- So, I supposed I'd admitted to my subconscious self that my parents were having sex as well (my insomniac tendencies has lead me to that conclusion). But - Can we PLEASE NOT TALK ABOUT IT?

I also remember sneaking little sips of vodka from the bar downstairs. But - Fastforward to watching The Longest Yard with Burt and Kris. And seeing for the first time in my life a grown male penis that was not attached to my father...Cause my father was just my father and that is just what he looked like...Which was no big deal. But this new thing I am seeing? This other appendage? This thing I'm supposed to yearn for? Yeah? All I can think is: "Um.......No, not so much!" (Gotta admit girls...It just ain't pretty.)

Next.....Mid-teens....And we're learning about these things that happen during sex. Not just the standard penis-in-vagina...But the extras. All those things they don't tell you about. And my friend, KB, and I SWEARING we will NEVER let a man make a meal outta our parts. With me? NO WAY!!! NOOOOOOOT HAPPENING!!

Later teens...(Remember...My teen years were shut off of most feelings in general. So intimacy, dating, normal things were WAY out of my scope. Late bloomer in that field.) Seniors in high school and other friend, C, goes to visit cool, older friend at college. At such college, hooks up with boy. When back, proceeds to tell me how said boy kissed her boobs. Now, WHY ON EARTH would they do THAT??? Why, indeed.

So, here I sit years later, wondering where-oh-here is list where I sign up for noisy sex, adult penises (penii?), meals made of me, and boob kissing. No one told us about the extra good parts! I'm thinkin that is why they keep it a secret. Cause the now the whole story is OH SO DIFFERENT!!!

Whoooda thunk it could change that drastically. Birds & bees? PHOOEY! Boobs and peepees! (Again...Later bloomer...Still not quite grown up.....)

I'll Admit To A Fondness For Inane Humor

Thinking back on my list of Top 10 (or 5...or whatever it was) movies. And realizing...I attempted to go for the deep, brianiac, ethereal movies. When what I really love are stupid, inane, brainless flicks. Like:

• Anything Jack Black - I'd totally do him...Even though he is strangely grungy and dirty. In order of favs: School of Rock, Saving Silverman, High Fidelity, anything Tenacious D, Shallow Hal.
• Anything Adam Sandler - Again, I'd totally do him...Even though he is, also, strangely grungy and dirty....Although, not as much as Jack. (I like clean boys...I really do.) Tops in order: Billy Madison, Happy Gilmore, Wedding Singer, The Waterboy, Airheads, 50 First Dates.
• Anything Kevin Costner: This boy is clean. Getting old and balding...But clean. Top to bottom: Field of Dreams, The Bodyguard, No Way Out, Dances With Wolves (Or Wooves, as my friend V says), JFK, The Untouchables.
• Anything with Dennis Quaid: Clean. Getting old. But still has lots of hair. STOOOPID Meg. In order: The Big Easy (HOT sex scene), Breaking Away (oldie AND goodie), Great Balls of Fire, The Parent Trap (yup - sap...but he was SUPER HOT), Frequency.

So, this really may just be a rerun of another Hump Island episode - Grungy/Dirty/Old/Balding Hump Island. At least I am diverse!

But School of Rock just reminded me. Ask friend, B. We saw it together in a semi-full theater. One guy in the front row...And me in the back row....Laughing uproarously. Everyone else in the theatre...(including B) silent. I think front-row-guy and I may have high fived each other on the way out.

SILLY MOVIES RULE!

Jack & Adam...My front door awaits. (I'd not turn away Kevin or Dennis either.)