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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary


Poor widow me

Embarassing confession number one: I am addicted to makeupalley.com

Last night I was supposed to see Solaris, but plans got changed at the last minute. Instead, the plan was to go to North for drinks around 7. I got dolled up, dashed out the door, only to realize that all of my neighbors were home and I cannot maneuver my car out of its parking space when there are no empty spots. Totally, totally retarded. My friend Hilary says I suffer from post-traumatic fence destroying disorder, and this is why I was stranded. Actually, I considered taking a cab to the bar, tried valiantly a second time to move the car, and thatís when the entire proposition lost about 98% of its allure.

Vanquished, I stayed home, drank tea and believe it or not, watched Fear Factor. This is a very dumb show, ladies and gentlemen. I think watching Fear Factor was actually more pathetic than my not being able to maneuver the car, and Tracy confirmed this for me.

The neighbors finally cleared the way for me this afternoon, and I was able to go buy groceries. I have to have a fridge stocked with food for when Terence gets home. He is convinced that when heís not around, I donít eat. He believes that I adopt the bachelorette eating habits of my single friends, and sadly, he is correct. I didnít buy very much at Whole Foods but I bought things that I like and that Terence usually grumbles about.

Yay for me eating expensive Morbier! (Terenceís objection: overpriced and never tastes as good as it does in France, why torture yourself. Ok, heís right.)

Yay for me eating a grilled slab of ahi tuna! (Terenceís objection: buy it raw and grill it yourself. Itís cheaper and tastes better. Heís sort of right, but if I cooked tuna, the whole house would smell fishy. Yuck.)

Yay for me buying overpriced radicchio! (Terenceís objection: whatís wrong with regular, non-bitter tasting less expensive lettuce? Thereís nothing wrong with regular lettuce, I just like to mix it up.)

Itís not like Terence would grab the wallet. He doesnít care all that much about what I buy so long as there are a few things he likes. Heíll be happy to know that Iím eating well. Hell, I may even make a lemon-artichoke soup tonight! Gourmet Girl on the Go! And I bought eggs so let the baking begin!

No news from him in Seoul, by the way. I expect each of his days is highly structured with tours etc. Thereís supposed to be some kind of company holiday party too. Canít wait to hear what thatís like.

A friend of ours says we should work it so that the company has to hire me to do graphic design. That would be cool, I guess. Iíd have something to do while Terence was off working 14 hour days. I confess that I was sort of looking forward to doing very little, to being an art school dilettante, or a Lady Who Lunches, or some kind of stylishly, couture-clad kept woman with a car and driver. I know this is fantasyland, but I can dream. What if they offer Terence a Brinks truckload of money?

Embarassing confession numťro deux: a Brinks truckload of money gives me goosebumps.

4:04 p.m. - 2002-12-03



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