My mother has a closet that contains a colony of shoes as well as other
motherly things. A typical outing with her would commence with of a trip
to said closet to locate her purse. I developed a dislike for the smell
of leather, especially Payless leather. And right now I want this pair
of shoes—no leather, no smell. I would go as far as saying I’m
obsessed with these shoes and that I’m unwilling to pay $90 to put
them on my feet.
I would then joke about her sisters and tease her about how she answered
the phone, always on the third ring. Never the first, never the second,
always the third, even if she has had her hand on the phone for the previous
two rings. Then she’d answer, "Ee-hello?" which isn’t
really "hello" but probably a mutation of "hello"
and "Eehole, why are you are calling me?" It still
drives me nuts. But in all this time, she’s never gotten mad at
me for teasing her or speaking my mind.
Sometimes, I share too much information. So when I knocked Mandy’s
"friend" Barry for replying "Tell you later" in the
"Occupation" section of his personal ad, I really felt bad after
reading her updates. And although my mom never said anything about my
taste in shoes, I finally found out what that whole "foot in my mouth"
thing is, she always told me about.
Nevertheless, here is part three of our favorite game:
DATING MANDY
Chapter Three: Barry vs. Andrew
November 5, 2003 So this week has turned out great. I talked to Barry last night
who informed me that he is going to go back to Vail for the season then
return in the Spring. He's not having much luck on the job front here
and doesn't think it would work out with the guy in Florida either. And
on top of that, I chipped a tooth yesterday and had to get a crown.
But, as for the whole Barry thing, you would all be very proud of me,
I am being "mature." If something is supposed to work out—it
will and if not—I had a good time getting to know him.
We're supposed to go out again before he leaves next week, but don't
be dismayed—I’m going out with Andrew Saturday night. He's
going with me to "Artrageous", the big huge blowout party for
Nashville Cares (service provider for people with HIV/AIDS), so that should
be a good time. We were supposed to go out tonight, but this whole tooth
thing has got me in a funk.
I’ll keep you posted, just wanted to share.
Talk to you all soon!
Mandy
November 9, 2003 I myself had a similar art gallery experience to you Lonnie,
last night. Nashville CARES (the HIV/AIDS organization in nasvhille) hosts
a HUGE party every November called Artrageous. Twelve art galleries open
their door to the community (for $50 a ticket and that’s just the
starting price!). Luckily, manual labor got Richard (my roomie) and myself
in for free.
Actually, Andrew (the rugby player) was supposed to go, but he’s
under the weather right now. Anyway, the food at the galleries was fucking
fantastic, only the best restaurants donate food for this event. It was
fabulous and at the after party, who was the entertainment you might ask?
Well, it was no other than RuPaul herself...yes ma'am in the flesh...needless
to say it was a great party (Sashay, Shante anyone?)
Oh, and Barry is going to be in Nashvegas tomorrow for a graduate school
interview (Vandy). I don’t know if this means he would start in
January or in the fall next year at which time I hope to be starting law
school somewhere. We're having a late lunch after his interview, why do
I like this guy so much?
Well, I’ve got to get on Yahoo! and check my messages. I can't
sit around waiting for Barry now can I?
Mandy
Although Barry was our favorite, Mandy might have to choose someone else
for that special role of her "man." Entonces, we’ll
all be updated with the new gossip as it comes in from the Associated
Press.
Once again, I apologize (for Karmic sake) for teasing Barry and saying
"he ain’t got no job." And if you really think about it,
I wasn’t technically knocking him because I used a double negative.
Thus, "he ain’t got no" is really the equivalent of saying
"he has." Oh, fuck it, I’m sorry, really, really, really
very sorry for calling you a wacked-out broke-ass mutha. And that’s
my outrow…
