Chicken Noodle Soup
For those not familiar with the catchy-yet-annoying rap song, Chicken Noodle Soup, don’t worry; this post has nothing to do with that song! This particular rant has everything to do with the E-Coli poisoning I experienced at the hands of the West 72nd Street Dallas BBQ on Sunday night. All I can think right now is, “What the f*ck?!?!?” After a pleasurable weekend that included no dates – this will be covered later – I decided to take my favorite cousin Nancy and my boy Herbie out to dinner Sunday night. We figured we’d sit for an inexpensive meal at Dallas BBQ – a joint known for their generous portions and savory southern fixins. Well, it turns out the fixins had a little more wrong-in than fixin’ on Sunday night because the three of us suffered the worse case of E-Coli poisoning we had ever encountered. The bloating, followed by the stabbing pain, followed by the contractions and eventual vomiting and diarrhea, are something none of us bargained for. Three days later and it still sounds like I have Star War’s Chubaka trapped in my abdomen. So I’m surviving on yogurt, chicken noodle soup and water. Remember those pesky few pounds I wanted to drop… well, they’re dissolving like candles by a forest fire now!
Failure to Launch
My scheduled three dates were transformed into a no-dater weekend, after I opted to spend most of my weekend with my cousin having some “fam” time. We watched the entire season of Noah’s Arc where I was given the opportunity to explain that most gay men don’t sound, dress or act this way, but hey, what’s the point? By episode three, I was screaming, “Yeah girl, you know that was me all the way…” At any rate my musketeers (future exes) all agreed to take a new number on the reschedule appointment book – lucky me – and I should be hittin’ the town (and maybe even one of these gentlemen- LOL) by the weekend. Pray on the stomach folks… pray on the stomach!
Shall We Dance?
I’m not exactly Mario Lopez or anything, but I think I can shake-it-up a bit when I need to. Our friend Carmen – resident Latina-in-the-know and colleague has managed to schedule two hour salsa classes, every Monday beginning February 5th for 10 of us at the Champion Dance Studios here in New York City. The bargain basement prices are thanks to Carmen’s hook-up and previous step-ins with the instructor. I’m excited. Does anyone know where I can find a pair of high-waist, black lycra pants?
Last night a close girlfriend asked whether I thought it would freak her man out if she attempted to toss his salad. Admittedly, I was intrigued as to why the issue came up and she said another girlfriend had mentioned that this was working well with her boyfriend. Is there some type of new intimate expression you’d like to partake in with your partner, but are afraid your partner may either 1) see you differently or 2) be offended that you even went there?
Keep passin’ the open windows…