Archive | October, 2007

Trick or Treat

31 Oct

Happy Halloween, Bitches!

Catherinette = Broke

31 Oct

$451.  That’s four hundred fifty one dollars.  Four hundred fifty one American dollars.  Ugh, it hurts me.  I just dropped $451 (that’s four hundred fifty one dollars) on heating oil.  On a measly flipping 150 gallons of heating oil for my house.  When I called the heating oil company this morning, and the agent gave me the price, it felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach.  It’s physically painful to think that I have just dropped that much money to heat the downstairs of my house.  It hurts.  A lot.

I’m going to be broke from here until Spring time.  Ugh!!  Oh, and how am I supposed to throw a bridal shower with $0 (that’s zero American dollars)?  I have a wedding to go to in December.  In Florida.  For which I am a bridesmaid. 

God I hate being broke.  Good-bye, Ixia.  Guess I’ll see you when it’s warm out and I can afford to visit you again.  I’ll miss you.

Stupid freaking price increase in oil!  I HATE  YOU EVEN MORE THAN THAT STUPID CHICK FROM HEROES!!

30 Rocks

30 Oct

Who said that being single wasn’t super awesome??  Take last night, for example.  I’m sure there were couples having romantic dinners, or knocking boots, or just enjoying domestic life.  Not me!  I had such an awesome night last night!  When you read it, you’re going to die of jealousy.  Ready?  Here goes:

I watched “I Love New York”, while eating dinner, in bed.  What did I have for dinner?  Klassy show calls for klassy meal: 9 piece chicken nugget meal, large, with a diet coke.  KLASSY!!  Oh, and I was in bed by 7:30.

LTD, people.  Living. The. Dream.

My New Addiction

30 Oct

It’s sinful how much time I have spent on facebook over the last few days.  SINFUL!!  I find that I’m spending less time here because I’m busy over there.  You should all go and join it.  You can do all sorts of cool stuff, like take sexy back from people, send roundhouse kicks, dry hump, bite, etc., blah, blah, blah.

I’ve spent some quality time with The Idea of Progress over in facebook land.  It’s been a really romantic and magical time.  But you’ll never know what’s been going on if you don’t go and sign up immediately if not sooner.

Just do it, and then do a search for Catherinette Singleton.  We’ll spend hours upon hours of time doing all kinds of cyber shenanigans.  I look forward to seeing you there.  And while I’m waiting, I’m going to have to SUPER POKE The Idea of Progress. . .again.

Museum of Broken Hearts

29 Oct

The other day, BBC News ran an interesting article about The Museum of Broken Hearts.  It’s a traveling exhibit made up entirely of souvenirs from failed relationships.  The exhibit include photographs, clothing, letters, and other odds and ends.  At the moment, the exhibit is in Berlin.  There are plans, however, to bring it on over to the U.S. at some point.

 I was thinking about what I’d give to make the exhibit even more interesting than I’m sure it already is.  There are only so many t-shirts that one could handle walking around the exhibit, and I’m sure no one is intrested in the crotchless panties from Hairy McBacksweat (klassy guy).  I decided that it would be a bear that Mr. Big X had given me.  He was living in Chicago at the time and had gone to a Build-a-Bear shop with his little niece.  He decided that I’d like for him to make me a bear.  He dressed it in a tuxedo, gave it a red rose, and recorded his voice saying something along the lines of “good night, sweet dreams, blah, blah, blah.”  If only I had kept it!!  Instead, when I moved into my house, I trashed it.  Damn it, it would have been perfect!!  People all over the world could have heard his empty promises.  Darn it.   So here’s the question: if you were asked to donate, what would you give?

Evidence That I’m a Bitch: Exhibit C

29 Oct

Yesterday, I had quite a hankering for a sausage, egg, and cheese sandwich.  The craving was so strong that it could not be ignored, so I stopped and picked one up while on the way to my sister’s house.  The problem was that I knew that when my nephew saw me eating it, he would want some.  I considered getting one for him too, and then came up with a better plan. 

I arrived at my sister’s house, gave my nephew a bagel, and then started unwrapping my delicious sandwich.  He watched me unwrap it, and asked what I was eating. I told him and he asked for a bite.  I looked right into his little eyes and lied, I told him it was spicy and he wouldn’t like it.  My brother-in-law laughed so hard he practically rolled off the couch. 

I’m So Totally Mature, For a 12 Year-Old

25 Oct

Several months ago I found out that Mr. Big X was moving back to Baltimore.  We had met at work, dated for a year before his job took him to the midwest, tried the long distance thing, and then broken up.  Then we got back together.  Then he dumped me on New Year’s.  Very kind and generous soul, and by that I mean rat bastard.  We didn’t have the same friends, he has not family here, and I had been fortunate enough to not run into him. . .until Tuesday night.

Muffy, Lola and I were enjoying some quality time during Lola’s festivities at Little Havana’s.  The night was gorgeous, food had been tasty, we had gotten rid of the annoying 20 year olds, and were basking in the glow one gets after enjoying mojitos.  I suddenly looked up and saw him standing there.  I did what any rational woman would do: I proceeded to have a panic attack.  It was great!  I suddenly felt dizzy, warm, and nauseated-it felt just as if I had suddenly gotten drunk.  Thankfully, the feeling went away quickly-mainly due to the fact that he went back inside the bar.

Everything was fine and dandy until I finally had to use the loo.  I’d been sitting in my chair for about 20 minutes trying to motivate to run to the ladies’ room, and could finally take it no longer.  The problem was that (being 12) I didn’t want to walk past him.  Muffy was kind enough to get up from the table to see where he was sitting.  Unfortunately, he was standing at the end of the bar and I was going to have to walk right past him.  Again, no problem.  Being the mature woman that I am, I came up with a plan: I called Muffy on my cell phone, put it up to my right ear to cover my face, and walked right past him.  Totally reverting to grade school shenanigans, but a lady’s got to do what a lady’s got to do.

Success!  I made it to the bathroom with no trouble.  Do my business, open the stall door and there’s Lola.  “He’s just moved outside, to the table next to us.” DAMN HIM!!  When Muffy and Lola had realized that he was taking the table next to us, they decided that Lola would have to come after me to find out what we needed to do.  What to do, what to do?  Okay, I’m an adult, I can do this.  I can sit next to him and not freak out, and I really believed it.  “Call Muffy and let her know the plan.”  So, as an adult woman, I’m calling my friend from the loo as we make our plan.  Thankfully, Muffy had moved all of our stuff inside.

Our plan worked!  We left shortly thereafter, and I didn’t have to look at him again.  I may not be in the 6th grade anymore, but it’s nice to know that things that worked back then, still work today.

Young, Dumb & Full of Boring/Useless Information

25 Oct

The other day when I wrote about my love for the 20-something-year olds, I never dreamed that I would have the chance to hang out with some.  Tuesday night we went out for Lola’s birthday.  I was the first one to arrive, so I ordered a drink and sat at the bar waiting for Muffy and Lola.  While I sat there, I noticed a hot young fellow sitting on the other side of the bar.  He noticed me and started waving to me, I waved back.  Two minutes later he was sitting by my side.

“Are you waiting for your husband,” he asked me.  “No.  Are you?”  He said he was and decided to pretend he was gay.  That was his clever way of flirting.  It might have worked, if I had been a total idiot. We chit chatted for a few minutes before Muffy and Lola arrived.  The first thing I noticed was that he was wearing camo shorts, and he had beat up sneakers.  Mamma always told me you could tell someone’s upbringing by looking at their shoes.  It’s something that I always notice.  His shoes told me that he was still quite young, and he thought he was cool enough to pull off the outfit.  Whatever, no biggy, he was kind of cute.  Muffy and Lola arrived and we continued chatting it up with Faux Gay.

Somehow, he managed to invite himself to our table.  5 minutes later, his two friends were sitting with us.  Quiet Serial Killer, and the World’s Most Boring Boy seemed nice enough.  After 20 minutes I started realizing that maybe I’m not so hot for 20 year olds. The more Faux Gay talked, the less attractive I found him.  I started noticing his jacked up teeth, then that his nose must have been broken at some point-and never set right.  Faux Gay had been hitting on us while he waited for one of his ho’s to arrive.  The chick that showed up looked like she had just gussied herself up after her day job: pole dancing.  Poor chick looked like she has been ridden hard and put away wet.  Off Faux Gay went and we were stuck with Quiet Serial Killer and World’s Most Boring Boy.  Christ, I just about gouged my eyes out while he told us (with his heavy Baltimore accent) all about how he pulled reports at his job, and blah, blah boring.

Thankfully, they all ended up leaving to go do karaoke.  They tried to stiff us with their tab, but the waitress called them out on it.  Thanks, kind waitress!  They were god awful and the only way that I could have endured more time with them was if I had been hammered off my ass.  Perhaps they are only good for one thing. . .