Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Valentine Synopsis

Total number of Valentines: four
Number from sweet Daddy: one
Number from eccentric godmother: two (one was supposed to be from my dog)
Number from hot architecture student: one

Number of dinner invitations from Architecture Stud(ent): one
Number of his roomates joining us for dinner: one
Number of hot sensual moments involving Architecture Stud(ent): zero
Number of hours of sleep thanks to nervous and uncommunicative boss and extra work: also zero

Valentine's is obviously strictly a retail holiday, but it's kind of sweet to see all the bubbas in Victoria's Secret trying not to appear as though they are shopping for themselves. I bought the Garden State soundtrack (very good) and a Kings of Convenience CD for Architecture Stud(ent) and some non-flowery smellumy massage butter and wrapped up the hot little number I purchased while in Charlotte-- which is really for me, but it's always fun to see his eyes glaze over.

So it was with a certain amount of annoyance that I learned that his roomate would be joining us for dinner. My downstairs neighbors suggested I wear something mega-foxy to make A.S.'s eyes cross and his roomate uncomfy--subtle revenge appeals to me on so many levels. God bless lace tank tops and stilettos.

A.S. had made lamb chops and served pears, parmesan, walnuts and truffled honey for dessert. Yum! And he appreciated the saucy outfit I was wearing. And we necked in the elevator... meow! (that elevator is too quick)

And then he went back to the studio and I went back to my laptop to work on The Nerve's stupid rewrite until 4:30 a.m. Hot.

What really sucks is that I've spent so long on that miserable, thankless, God-awful story that I've achieved some new form of writer's block and I am well aware that it is terrible and not my best work even though I really wanted it to be important and intelligent and that poor Miss Nobody is going to have to fix it. And it makes me feel bad to do that, since she is the only reason I am not in prison for physically assaulting The Nerve. Miss Nobody, if you're reading this, I owe you lunch. And not just at Whole Paycheck, but a REAL lunch.

1 comment:

Alexandrialeigh said...

You are so sweet. And you don't owe my lunch! You made me (and a bunch of other people) dinner on Saturday!

Besides that, though -- I'm just as appreciative of your hard work on that one. It turned out a lot better than you're giving yourself credit for.