I'm on a budget...and a diet... really... I am.
Monday - April 9th, 2007
My good friend Dan invited me to his comedy show at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theater. Lovely, I thought! A wonderful $5 cultural event to lift my spirits after an always-so-hellish Monday afternoon spent dillydallying in my cubicle, eating a vast array of uber-fiberous vegetation, laundering, ellipticaling for 35 minutes and tending to my excessive amounts of Judaism-induced body hair via my blow dryer and a Venus razor.
On my way over to the theater, I got a call from Coleen.
"Meet us at Dino's Party House!!!"
Dino's WHAAAT?! As an unofficial member of AA, anything with the words 'Party House' makes me want to kick off my Nike high-top sneaks, funnel a beast ice and sing my finest karaoke-rendition of Paula Cole's 'Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?'
So off I went to the Party House, located about 3 blocks away from the theater.
There were a total of 6 people in the entire bar - two of which were my friends, one the bartender, two were making out passionately in the corner and the sixth... a lonesome, tan-skinned man playing a game of PhotoHunt.
As I sipped my Blue Moon, said man started hitting on Coleen. And when I say hitting on, I mean he actually told her he would like to make love to her. Yesssss, make LOVE. He then proceeded to buy us cheap vodka shots and tell Michelle and I that he would also be interested in having sex with us, but that he would only make love to Coleen.
I told him that wouldn't be necessary, and that some more shots would be just fine.
20 minutes later, we collected our coats, said farewell to our new man-friend, and made our way over to the theater. I had no intentions of drinking more beverages... that was, until I saw that magical sign.
$2 PBR.
There is a god!!!!
I sat next to Dan's parents, drank several delicious Pabsts, journeyed to a small pub called Walter's which included a drunk woman with newborn-baby, took an $8 taxi-ride home, ate microwavable dumplings and set my alarm for 8am.
Tuesday - April 10, 2007
I had really wonderful intentions on Tuesday afternoon. It was ASPCA day, and I planned on heading down to Union Square with Mel after work to look/make out with all of the puppies, raid the salad bar at Whole Foods and go home and do nice things like watch repeats of I Love New York.
Around 3pm, I got a text from my buddy Flounder -- "Happy Hour?"
Ohhhh, how I despise turning down a perfectly good happy hour.
Me: "Mel... want to grab a beer first before the puppies?"
Mel: "YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS... is he bringing his guy friends?"
We coerced Monique into joining our beverage festivities, and off we went to Local to join the Flound-Man & Co.
Flounder loves a good drinking game, and with the help of the $1 Coors Light happy hour special, I was able to get drunk all the while maintaining my allocated beverage budget for the week. And the beers were LIGHT. All 5 of them. Hence, my diet budget.
As 8 o' clock approached, I said farewell to my buddies, walked a drunken Mel to Grand Central and hurried home to watch American Idol. Not to mention, I was quite fungry at this point and couldn't wait to cook up an asian stir fry feast complete with wasabi peas, pineapple tidbits and anything else that tastes spectacular while doused in teriyaki sauce and eaten in a drunken frenzy.
On the elevator ride up to my apartment, I dug through my purse in search of my keys. I took out my disposable tupperware, my coffee thermos, my wallet, sunglasses, kashi granola bars.... UH-OH.... left them in my gym bag...which is in my cubicle... which is 11 blocks and 1 avenue away, which if i go back means i'll miss all of American Idol and I don't have TIVO... and then I won't see Sanjaya and my life will be OVER! mehhhhhhhhhh!
And this is when I realized the joys of paying over a grand in rent. DOOOOOOOORMAN.
Thankfully, I was able to get into my apartment only 20 minutes late for Idol. I watched Sanjaya flambouyantly prance around the stage all the while cooking my Asian splendor, and even found the time to convince Hillary into meeting an Italian-Turkish-Jewish JDater. And then I set my alarm for 8am.
Wednesday - April 11th, 2007.
I did not drink! I did not spend money! I even managed to smoke pot in my kitchen wearing only my underwear while simultaneously eating leftover cold pork dumplings. HOORAH!
Thursday - April 12th, 2007.
Damn you, Jon Ames. Thanks for leaving Local Radio Buying without a replacement and giving me all of your god-damn-skanky-ass-assistant-bitch work to do.
Lucky for you, I accept happy hour propositions as apologies. They BETTER have some mofo good drink specials.
As I gorged on $3 Blue Moons, $2 soco-lime shots, and assorted fried calamari bits, I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I always get a little excited when I don't recognize a phone number, and hoped it could possibly be a headhunter offering me a job naming nail polish colors, or maybe even Yolanda Vega telling me I won tonight's Pick 6 and to come collect my mill.
"HELLLOOOOOOO?!" I drunkenly slurred.
"Hi Jessica. This is ldkfgjgel;trkjg"
"WHO?! Who is THIS?!" I yelped.
"Jessica. This is Dr. Faust. I was just calling to tell you I got your blood test results back"
OHHHHH DICKKKKKKKK.
"They came back negative."
Boooooom Shaka Laka, I ain't dying of any weird-stomach-pain-induced-diseases! Well, at least not this week.
Still feeling the effects of my medical buzzkill, I decided it would be best to go home, microwave turkey meatballs, call my mother and fall asleep before 10pm.
Friday - April 13th, 2007.
Ahhhhhhh Friday. FINALLY, I can enjoy my life once again!
Due to the 10+ hours of sleep I received, I was actually able to attend the gym during lunch. Yeah, I was shocked, too.
As an added bonus, I was even able to elliptical my way through 40 minutes of Save the Last Dance Part 2 (Did you know there was a PART 2?!) and then proceeded to lay on the mats and laugh at Mel who only agreed to go to the gym because she really needed to take a shower.
I was feeling particularly wonderful because it was bow-chicka-bow-wow... PAYDAY.
After work, I cheerily frolicked down third avenue and straight into French Nails, for a brown-esque manicure and a 10 minute back massage by the god-of-all-nail-salon-massueses-of-my-LIFE.
I decided to keep it a low-key night in preparation for Saturday's Sake Bombing Fiesta, and met Ashley for dinner down in the Financial District. A few innocent fish tacos turned into 2 size-of-my-head frozen margaritas, an $80 bill and a buzzed subway ride to mmmmm... Woodside, Queens.
Saturday - April 14th, 2007
I spent the next day cruising down Queens Boulevard with Ryan in his pimped-out Rav 4. I had a burning desire to go shopping at Target, and we found one located in the most inconvient sort of mall-type-thing on the side of the Boulevard from Hell.
After a lovely diner meal and some assorted discount shoe-shopping, I beached myself on his couch for as long as possible until making my way back home to prepare for the cheap sushi and many a sake bomb that would soon be taking up residence in my liver.
My evening was one giant Asian-induced blur. Hmmm... are you seeing the pattern, too?
I was about 5 sake bombs deep before the food even arrived. Same for Ashley, who desperately needed alcohol in order to shmooze her questionably homosexual yet still undeniably sexy new roommate.
I reminisced with a long lost friend who actually wanted my babies circa 10th grade and yes... even sent me the first...errr..ONLY roses I have ever recieved. To thank him, I decided I would spill three-quarters of my $12 mango mojito all over his lovely Lacoste shirt and then coerce him into purchasing my next beverage. Tadaaaa.
Sunday, April 15th
Slept till 11. Woke up. Ate leftover turkey club from Queen's diner. Fell back asleep. Woke up at 4:30pm. Facebook stalking. Canned clam chowder. Microwaved an eggroll. Blogging. VH1's Charm School Starts tonight. Set my alarm for 8am. Looking forward to Happy Hour.
