Lots of talk on the phone, between bites

Well I talked to Justin today on the phone. Actually twice. Once at work and once at home. Yep, that's blog-worthy at this point. He called to talk about the Mayfair platter, which, when we he went back to look at it, was chipped up. I had checked the handles, where things usually chip, but not the sides apparently. So he didn't get it. I felt bad about sending him to Inman for no reason, but he did some shopping of his own while he was there, so I didn't feel so bad about it.

I've decided I'm going to buy that Ruby Red Bubble bowl I found last weekend. I want it. I'm kicking myself for not buying it now (because was three fucking dollars over book), but I do that sometimes. I'm trying to be more selective with what I buy a) because of limited room and b) because I have bought so much stuff lately. But this piece is haunting me now. I'm gong zen about it. I'll be in Columbia all weekend this weekend, so I won't be able to get back there until the 27th. If it is still there then, then I am meant to have it. If not, well I guess I'll kick myself about not buying it for the next several years, and then let it go.

I have eaten everything that wasn't nailed down today. One of my reps came in from Atlanta and took me to a 1,200 calorie lunch at Macaroni Grill today. I don't do that very often - in fact I seldom go out for lunch - but I just can't get the skinny shit when I go there. The "regular" (read lard-encrusted) food is just soooo wonderful. I counted that as my birthday lunch. (How much longer can I stretch that? Or my pants for that matter?)

I did some shopping on the way home, and figured out I will spend another $100 this week on vitamins, pills, and toiletries. Ouch. There goes getting my budget back in line. Additionally, I received my first bill from Verizon for my independent phone line - for $140. Apparently they bill a month in advance, so I got billed for two months service simultaneously - couldn't happen at a worse time. I also got billed for New York City sales tax - despite never having lived there - because my phone number was previously on a New York account (Michael's) and they just didn't switch the states, despite the fact that my residence and the billing address are both in SC. Sometimes I think if anyone did their job competently at a utility I would just collapse in utter shock. It just amazes me. But then maybe the woman used to work for the airlines. I despise the airlines with the red-hot intensity of a thousand suns. But I digress.

I got home and had nachos for dinner, since I figured today was blown all to hell, calorie-wise, anyway. I finished up the last of the designer birthday cookies for dessert. At least they're out of the house, right? Only two more Choxie bars to go and the house will be fairly dessert-free. Which it really needs to be, unless I'm going to change my last name to "the Hutt".

Daniel called tonight. He is a younger guy that I heard from on match.com earlier this year. He is a nice enough guy.

And Dad called. He just always manages to piss me off without really trying. Or a lot of the time. Tonight they called to find out if a local bar was a gay bar. There was going to be a benefit there for the daughter of a good customer of his who died. OK first, even if it WAS a gay bar, is he going to catch the gay or something? Sadly, I have become used to his entrenched horror of anything that smacks of counter-culture. What pushed me over the edge was a later remark. The gay men's chorus I was in (before it imploded) had given a concert at this bar years ago, which was why he thought it was a gay bar. To his credit, despite his discomfort, he did attend the concert, althought I won't go into the specifics of his behavior. He was there, outside his comfort zone, and that was a huge concession for him. Sadly, I was the ONLY guy in the whole chorus who had both of his parents there (how fucking sad is that for South Carloina?). But I digress.

This was the remark that did it for me "Well when we were there the last time, I saw these two big women slobbering all over each other, so I thought it had to be a gay bar. But I don't mean any offense." How the fuck could that be said without meaning offense? Can you not just say "two women kissing"?? I don't understand why his every casual remark must drip with judgment, if that is not what he really feels. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. But if I referred to his customers as "those phallically-challenged weapons-obsessed rednecks" (my dad owns a gun store) I can guaran-damn-tee you he would be up at arms in seconds. But then of course that would make me like him. So I guess I'll lay it down and let it go. Again. Sigh. Being the bigger man requires a helluva lot of keeping quiet - and cookies apparently.

I had to go watch some "Family Guy" episodes to re-gain my sense of snarky balance and composure.