Fiance

While D was eating 10 cent wings that were not 10 cents last night...

(Aside: the sign read "Happy Hour 5 - 7; 10 cent wings!," the bill said that wings were not 10 cents, when we asked the waitress she said "It's half priced margaritas from 5 - 7, and then the wings are 10 cents at 7:00, is that a problem?," yes but we didn't say so, because in NYC you have to ask first or else you will be taken advantage of, but really, wtf? the sign said nothing about half priced drinks and clearly said 5 - 7 - i hate everyone!)

... he said "So when I wrote back to the guy (potential interview!) I called you my fiance."

Silence.

"I said that my fiance and I were hoping to move to Boston this year."

"Why?"

"I thought that it would establish me as more serious. If you have a fiance or wife people take you more seriously in the work environment."

"Huh."

Change of topic.

"But what if he asks you questions about the wedding on the interview to make small talk? What will you say?"

"I'll say we haven't really made any decisions."

New topic.

"But what will I say if you get the job and I'm at the company party with you and the people who have no idea what to talk to me about ask me how the wedding planning is going?"

"I don't know. You can just say its going fine."

Yet another topic.

"What if I start to cry when someone asks me about the wedding and we're not actually getting married and that makes me sad?"

Yeah. He definitely shouldn't have mentioned it to me, but I guess he had to just in case it ever comes up. It probably won't, even if he gets an offer and takes the job, because whoever the random guy is in HR to whom he sent the email probably paid no attention to it whatsoever.

Of course I wanted to be like "Thanks for using me as something to establish you as someone who is serious about his future when you are obviously a person who doesn't think about his future and who fears commitment."

Well, I only felt that way for about a second.

Mostly I felt like "Wow, he told a complete stranger in an email that I'm his fiance! He must like me a lot!"

Sometimes I felt like "I can't believe he lied to a potential future employer" but then understood why he had to, because it would be weird to be like "My girlfriend and I..." But why make mention of it at all?

And why do I care? I actually don't care, but I did last night, because I was imagining all of the ladies at the company party asking to see my ring and my having a total breakdown and being like "We're not engaged! We never will be! He can't commit! He's making it all up to be taken seriously in the work environment!"

Hehe.

I'm insane, but truthfully, today its because of the hormones.

Hiccup

I just graphed my Netflix watching habits. Why? Because I am overwhelmed by my queue and feel as though I will never watch all of the movies. Post-graphing, however, my soul is at ease because I've apparently watched 157 movies since May of 2005! This does not include the movies that I've watched from D's queue. There is hope. Or, depending on how you look at it, there is no hope because who watches > 157 movies in less than two years?

I have a headache today.

I rushed through my work to meet friends for dinner who ultimately cancelled.

Now I am trapped with a headache and hiccups waiting for D, who did not rush and who wouldn't have been able to meet the friends for dinner anyway.

Yes, I also have had hiccups all day.

I am a portrait of grace and poise.

I am getting a haircut tomorrow so I will truly be graceful and poised.

The weekend was good. There was smoke but no birds, thankfully.

I think there is something wrong with the flue. I'd never suggest this to D, who has done nothing but insist that its completely normal to have a ridiculously smokey apartment when lighting a fire. He made one on Saturday and another on Sunday. Last night's fire caused my eyes to water. We had to open the window because the air in the apartment was murkey. I kept having to get up in the middle of the night in order to stick my head out into the clean, fresh air of NYC. Heh. Everything smells of smoke. It's gross. The fire was nice - for the first five minutes. The current theory is that our apartment is small so smoke doesn't diffuse. I'm not sure I buy this anymore. Regardless, I am going to insist that we not light any fires in the future because I don't want my clothes to smell like smoke.

I didn't do much this weekend. Plans were cancelled on Friday night so D's cousin came over for fondue. I worry about her. She's young and headed for unhappiness. We went to see Letters From Iwo Jima on Saturday morning, which was a-ma-zing. I demand that you all see it this instant. I spent a moment having an instant crush on Ken Watanabe, without knowing why. Later D informed me that he'd played The Captain in Memoirs of a Geisha. Ah ha! I had a late lunch with E, who I hadn't seen in months. I then went home and made phone calls and then cooked for us. We watched a Netflix and then some Arrested Development and went to bed early like the lame adults that we are.

Yesterday I somehow managed to convince D to come to see The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee with me. He semi-twisted his ankle and I hadn't gone to ICP the day before because he wanted to go, and then my postponed plans were thwarted on Sunday because of the ankle. He loved it, as did I! Oh MY. It was wonderful. I spent the entire time smiling. Wicked funny, folks. Go see it if you have the opportunity. Afterwards I hit Food Emporium and bought brand snacks and then spent hours and more hours on the phone with Mother, who's having a hard time with things but I totally understand where she's coming from. We made crepes and watched The Promise, which sucked, but maybe not as bad as I thought because maybe the smoke inhalation tainted my feelings about it. We started watching Immortal Beloved but my headache got the best of me (smoke-induced? maybe!) and I passed out.

And now its Monday, and its been a long day because I came in early to meet people for dinner who subsequently cancelled. Awshummm. But I am going to instead get to make D happy by accompanying him while he eats 25 cent wings, a Monday activity he's been forgetting about for weeks and weeks.

Until tomorrow...