i'm a white writer. in new york. original, no? i've been blogging since october 2002. this blog picks up in october 2008, when i moved from DC to NY...(and then I moved to Maine in 2012)

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Come on, I should know better by now.

So the packing is going well. Movers are coming Saturday at 10. Mr. & Mrs. Boston Bean are coming Saturday at 3 for an overnight trip to see Blasted at Soho Rep. And I've gotten over the fact that no one's responded to my Craigslist roommate ad, which means I'm going to have to eat it and pay double-rent in January and February. Goodbye two-grand. I'm waiting for my roommate to tell me she wants me to pay Jan and Feb utilities, which include her stupid landline, her stupid cable tv, and the stupid electricity she leaves on in the apartment in every room for every second of every damn day.

The important thing is, I'm getting out.

The ironic thing is, there are fewer roaches lately.

The sad thing is, my massage table is still missing. Stolen. Whatevs.

Oh, did I tell you? I don't think I did. Well, let me tell you. The other day I learned that when my roommate is naked and walks through the house with a bath towel around her, it does not cover all the things I would rather not see.

So the Pantsless Wonder is having a party Thursday night. At one point she had said, "I mean, you live here, so, if you want to join in, of course, I'm not going to say no..." and of course I took from that subtle turn of phrase that it would be happier for all if I found something else with which to occupy my time for the evening. Gladly. And I know it's a big deal for her so I am making sure my boxes and whatnot are out of the way, and that my packing is done.

So I made the mistake of asking this woman with whom I have yet to have a non-awkward, non-irritating conversation with, if there were a certain chunk of time she was planning the dinner for, so I would know how long to occupy myself, because I'll probably want to get to bed at a decent hour.

PW: Well, I mean, it's a whole evening. It's a party. It's a Christmas party.

DN: Is there a time when you think it would peak? Like dinner time? Because I can make sure I'm out there so it's not awkward.

PW: Well. Yeah. That would be weird. It would be great if you weren't here then.

DN: That's why I'm asking. When do you think that would be?

PW: Well, I mean. I don't know. People are coming from work, and some people might spend the night.

DN: Any idea of a start or end time?

PW: Well, I mean, it's a party.

DN: That's cool.

PW: I mean. I just. I told people to get here at 6:30, so. I mean. I don't know.

DN: Got it.

PW: I just. I don't know what to tell you. It's a party.

DN: Okay. No worries.



It actually went on much longer than that, but I want to spare you the horror.

Have I mentioned my boss aka The Olympian and his girlfriend are coming to this party? They went to college together.

I'm just gonna come and go as I please and be myself.

WTF-ever.

1 comment:

stopwatch said...

ugh...hate passive aggressive crap like that. 4 more days...4 more days...you should walk through in a towel. wahahaha