Archive for January, 2010

THE SUNDAY PULL: which way

Lost Old Man: Excuse me miss. Which way to Prince?

Me: Umm…down. You’re aways away from Prince Street.

Lost Old Man:  So you can’t see a Prince.

Me: I’m sorry?

Lost Old Man: Prince.

Me: Yeah, you got to go downtown. You can hop on the train right here and get there.

Lost Old Man:  (laughs) I thought maybe I could be your Prince.

Me: I’m sorry. (nervous and confused laughter)

Lost Old Man: Or you can call me Grandpa, that works too. (add creepy smile)


01 2010

and then sometimes…

I am not always prepared in life. I’ll admit that. I’m often the one who will show up at the work event and forgot to bring business cards, or forget to pick up the dress I want to wear to an event from the drycleaners. But in important issues I over think everything. I’ve been known to use the phrase, “that’s why we have plan D” which alludes to the fact that I have not only an A and a D but one for every letter in between.

SIDEBAR: I will always have different plans, but I never have a backup plan.

I don’t only do this in work situations, but in what could be called serious life situations. I work out every option I have and makes list of what I am willing to give and take.

FACT: I usually give more then I take.

The place I do this most is in relationships: In the opposite sex.

A friend and I were chatting the other night about how “types” become obsolete at some point, and it becomes about our “give and take” list.  You know those things you are willing to let go. As my friend put it, “He’s probably not going to be tall, blond, and gorgeous.” “But he still might be perfect,” I said in response.

We let things go for things we’ve realized matter to us, or things we’ve found attractive (necessary) in our life.

Mamma Plum once told me we should only have basic standards when looking for a mate, “not violent, no criminal record, respectful of your beliefs, and gainfully employed.” After that she said it’s all give and take.

He might not be tall, but he comes from a good family, or he might be tall, but have bad teeth. Ok that’s a lie; if he has bad teeth I’m having nothing to do with that! (It’s on my standards list…I’m not joking)

So sometimes you have to give and take, and even when most prepaid and you meet the man of your dreams you realize you forgot your business cards at home.

game play…

I was cleaning out my room and started to tackle a box, actually I should say a big bag of bags. Now not just any bags, this was a big bag of swag bags.

Swag bag castoffs that I just didn’t really get rid of. Like the not so exciting junk that you get in those bags…all the exciting junk I already had used and taken out.

This big bag of junk included: a bouncy –ball, a mini vibrator, vitamin water, three different hand lotions, penis shaped candies, lots of business cards and coupons, a bag of pretzels, shampoo, and so on and so on.

And a small pack of playing cards. Now they weren’t playing cards in the poker kind of way. They were for a different kind of game.

This was a pack of First date dating questions. A small deck that you can take with you, they were sized “to go”.

Insert a sigh. A large * sigh * for three reasons/thoughts that crossed my mind:

1) Why didn’t I think of that so I could be making money?

2) That a ridiculous thought LP cause that person who thought of it isn’t making money, hence why they are free.


3) Are they serious?!

This mini pack of first date questions is so ridiculous in concept I had to open the package.  (And I wish I hadn’t)

A small sample:

- Where would your dream home be located and what would it look like?

- What is your favorite thing to do on a date?

- How do u act when your angry?

- Would u like to live somewhere else?

- Is your glass half full or half empty?

- What was your worst breakup?

- What is your favorite sent?

Now I’ll try to control myself from throwing up in my mouth for a second here……

(yeah that didn’t work)

So, yes, these are all your basic and sometimes over the top get to know you questions. Sure you get a picture of someone here, but are these questions really necessary on a first date.


On a first date I want to see if we jive, if we make each other laugh, and if conversation flows.

Here is a hint: If you have to pull out pre written questions to ask your date, conversation does NOT flow and you should walk away now (and vise versa)

Would you have cards to help you lead the conversation with friends? No. Therefore, you shouldn’t have them on a date. If you can’t treat your date like you would your friends (or even better then you treat your friends) then you shouldn’t be dating.

And if you happen to need pre approved first date questions, for goodness sake memorize a few of the less sickening ones and leave the playing cards at home.

my stuff and me…

I’ve been surrounded by boxes and piles of junk lately, more so piles then boxes. I am doing a major clean and purge of my life “things” (I’m moving)

SIDEBAR: I love my stuff, and my junk but it’s just “junk” and it has had a great life with me, and will make someone else very happy, and stylish “to-boot”

As I’ve been in awe of my collection of things I have noticed something very different than in any other move I have ever made.  I don’t have any relationship outcasts. No boy leftovers, no guy junk, or man tokens.

Last time I went “home home” my closet was still filled with boy leftovers: teddybears, pictures, and all sorts of crap. And it seems like every time I have moved I have had lots of guy-junk to purge from my life, and this time: nothing.

Ok, that is a lie. I have three things.

I have a pile of CD’s from “bandboy”s band. Some are even unopened and by some I pretty much mean all of them.  I count this as one thing, although it’s more like 8 things. I don’t know why I have them, why I even keep them, and why on earth I’ve moved them to different apartments (even a different country).  Although, when he mailed me the latest CD I had a nice little pile to add it to.

And I have two shirts.

Now I know what you are thinking, that I must be one of those girls who takes things from guys. You know the ones who take sweatshirts and t-shirts: the girl who collects t-shirts from guys to sleep in.

FACT:  I’d rather not sleep in a t-shirt.

But thing is I don’t really do that. Why would I want someone’s dirty clothes when I have my own perfectly clean (and even dirty) clothes? But I sat the other night staring at two: a hoddie and a sweater.  Such ‘girl’ things to take from guys I know, right.

But the fact is, I didn’t really take them. I kept them.  I didn’t let them go when everything else went.  Last time I really sat down and cleaned out my life’s ‘junk’ I did it for two. It was mine, and it was his, and I cleaned out and flushed so much away.

Just like my giveaway pile now, I got ride of so much that was drenched in memories.

Now it sounds strange but I can recall memories with everything I have, unless I really have no clue where it came from. I know where “we” have been together: my stuff and me.

I remember the time I got my heel stuck in a sidewalk grate and walked almost a block without a shoe(the pretty black with purple top Prada ones). Or the green and pink Jacob solder bag I trekked allover France. Everything has a memory, a place, and a story.

And then I have these two shirts. I have no idea why I kept these shirts. It is a plain grey cotton sweater that even though I have grown in size I still swim in it, and a black (but really looks navy) hoodie with nothing on it, warnout cuffs and missing drawstring.

I have no memories attached to these items. I have no idea where they were purchased, or even when they were worn. Yet, these were the two things I decided would help me remember someone: the person who owned them.

Sometimes it isn’t “things” that we remember.  We remember an experience, a feeling, and even a sensation.

I remember France, and that trip, and the friends I was with, how much I laughed, and all the things we did. The bag didn’t give me that. I remember the great night out I had with an amazing friend when I happen to lose my shoe.

It’s never been about the shoes, the bags, the coats, and even the glasses.

And then…

I remember a boy that I loved, not the clothes that he owned.

THE SUNDAY PULL: here comes the…

Plum: That’s a big ring you got there.

Huge Fake Engagement Ring Dude: Yeah thanks. I’m engaged. (shows off the biggest fake diamond ring ever made)

Plum: That’s great. Are you the only one with an engagement ring or does your partner have one too.

Engagement Ring Dude: Does the ring make you more attracted to me?

Plum: umm..not really, no.

Engagement Ring Dude: I’m trying it out. My friends always bag engaged girls so I’m thinking girls might want to fuck an engaged guy.

Plum: Well if you’re going to pretend to be engaged you don’t need to wear a big fake rock.

Engagement Ring Dude: Does it make me look gay?

Plum: Only when your sipping your Cosmo.


01 2010