Two guy related things happened at work today.

1. A guy asked me for some advice on audio books. And he kept me chatting for like twenty minutes. At first I thought he was just a really indecisive shopper but then he kept sharing all these personal things. And then he kept asking what my normal work hours are so if he had any other questions, he could come back.

2. A second guy asked me about two books. The first was something like the Tibetan Book of the Dead (maybe) and the second was Sherman Alexie's Absolutely True Story of a Part-time Indian. I ordered the second book for him as we did not have it in stock. He gave me his phone number to enter into the order screen. "Now you have my phone number." And then a little later when I was on the other side of the store he asked, "Are you going to call when the book comes in?" -Yes, someone will call you. "No, are you going to call?" And then he winked at me.

Now, neither of these guys could have been at all interested in anything other than purchasing some books. I have no idea. Because I also never know when guys are actually interested in me. It usually takes someone else pointing it out or years later them saying "Back then I wanted to ask you out."

I may have almost perfect gay-dar. I may be able to spot a horrible "wearing socks with sandals" combo at a 100 yards. But my ability to recognize flirting is worse than listening to George Bush try to pronounce nuclear. It is better to just give up and let it slide.

At work, I am like a business casual Kurt Cobain. My clothes don't match and they look a little thrift store-ish. I also could use a good shampoo and maybe every now and then I could smile. Maybe. The only thing I have going for me is that sometime I sound smart and every now and then, I'm pretty funny.

Sometimes when I'm talking to guys, I get really awkward and frustrated and have an overwhelming urge to tell them I'm a lesbian. I just want to blurt it out like some sort of sexual Tourettes. I think this goes into my whole theory on willful self-sabotage.

Not that it maters anyway. Guy number one didn't like fiction. (What? What? Who doesn't like fiction.) And he was a little, sort of maybe, religious. And he didn't like David Sedaris. Boo.

And guy number two was in the hazy age bracket of being possibly closer in age to my parents than me. Plus he was chewing a peppermint and I was seriously worried for his teeth enamel. And who winks?

if you per chance work with me or live with me or are named RF then you are aware of my new love for daniel craig. he is totes hot. so hot that i have made plans to watch a james bond movie. a fate i have thus far avoided. well imagine my luck to come across a free on demand cable movie called THE MOTHER starring my new hot man friend. and imagine my luck in it being super dirty. lots of mostly naked DC. except he is totes giving it to a 60 year old woman. equaly as hot as ewwwww.

I like that my most commented on blog (and by most commented on, I mean five comments) was about Anne of Green Gables and people were OUTRAGED that I would desecrate such a beloved figure as Anne of Green Gables. Well guess what people, she totes had sex with Gilbert. Have you ever read the entire Green Gables series. They had a LOT of kids. So though I was crude about it, it still happened. I'm just keepin' it real people. Keepin' it real.

I'm keepin' it real because I'm keepin' it real.

So I went and saw Zach and Miri Make A Porno with AM, DB and RF today.

1. I will never be able to go to the cafe at work and not laugh.
2. I will never again pour coffee beans out of a bag and not think of pouring them over naked people.
3. It was gross but HILARIOUS.

And on the way home RF said, "Bry, if we are ever living together and broke, will you make a porno with me so we can fall in love?"

"I though you were gay?" I replied.

Now I am over at AA's house and I'm making him download Tru Blood. In exchange, I will help him drink a diet cherry 7-up and also help him clean his apartment by telling him what to do. And maybe later I will return his generosity by making him play scrabble and watch Tru Blood. Because that's what good friends do.

MB and I were talking about usual nerd things. Jane Austen, Jane Austen sequels and prequels. The usual nerd things.


Most Pride and Prejudice follow up books are notoriously pornographic. Seriously. Lots of Darcy on Elizabeth action in graphic penis goes into vagina glory.


And then we got to thinking. Would it not be hilarious to read an Anne of Green Gables, Little Women or Little House on the Prairie sequel that is just as dirty.


Could you imagine reading a 200 page book about Gilbert fucking Anne against a wall.


Think about it.

Free brow waxing did not go as I thought it would. I was mislead by the Benefit counter girl last weekend who made it seem as though I could breeze in, get some hair ripped out of my head and go on my way.

I got to the mall quite early due to previously mentioned lapse in work schedule memory. After eating some horendous food court curry and finishing Swish: My Quest to Become the Gayest Person Ever (not so much guidebook, more like a homo memoir), I headed over to Macy's, still early.

As I was standing towards the front of store smelling various perfumes and such, I slowly realized the overhead music I thought was a little louds was actually a live DJ spinning near makeup.

A sense of dread masked as stomach acid coursing against tide up my throat proved accurate as I realized the Benefit counter was having a freaking EVENT at which I would be getting my eye brows waxed.

I got in line and instantly wished I was dead.

Here is a list of things I hate:

1. People.
2. People who tell you that someting about your face is wrong and you should be wearing make-up to cover it up.
3.Teenage girls (Especially when they are People).
4. Feeling uncomfortable.
5. Pretending to be something you are not (i.e. comfortable).
6. Large crowds.
7. Club mixes outside of clubs.
8. Listening to club mixes without a drink in my hand.
9. Standing in a line to wait for something you made an appointment for.
10. People.

I seriously thought about leaving. But I really needed my brows waxed and I really needed it done for free. Short of convincing RF to pluck them like I used to make him do in college, I had no choice. RF is in Toronto. Free waxing was in front of me.

Eventually I was led over to Laura who sat me down and with out saying much, began waxing. And it hurt like a bitch. Here I was, sitting amidst about twenty middle age woman who should not be shopping at the Benefit counter (perhaps Lancome?) and about twenty teenagers (I wore Jane make-up and Bonnie Bell lip gloss until I was 18 - what is wrong with teens these days?). There was super loud music making the seat vibrate. And yet Laura was surprised I jumped about a foot in the air when she ripped off the first wax soaked piece of linen. "You have done this before, right?" she asked.

Yes I have. Never sitting upright in a director's chair surrounded by so much estrogen and noise. I usually go to Dosha's. Where you lay on a padded table with candles and soft new age-y music lulling you. Where it smells nice (not like commerce) and the ladies don't say things like "You can really tell a big difference. It looks so much better. Dramatic." (Die, Laura, Die.).

After Laura finished ripping my forehead apart, I was shuffled over to another director's chair by the only guy in the group, who kept dabbing the sweat on his face with those paper make-up sheets.

This is where an exotic looking pierced tattooed girl began brushing make-up all over my face to cover up the red area from the wax. But I did learn a few things.

1. She used to be in a religious cult.
2. She was going tick-or-treating for the first time.
3. She was dressing as a slutty Wednesday Adams.
4. She was taking her niece who was dressing as a bumble bee.
5. After she got out of the cult, she got all the piercings and tattoos because they were forbidden in the cult.
6. I look so much better with make-up on.
6. The make-up she was putting on my eye cost $30.


After this, I left. And I didn't leave a tip (There were a lot of people between me and the tip jar).

I felt insecure and manic and sort of depressed. I felt like eating a burrito. But instead I walked the 2 miles home and contemplated the reasons why I left other people make me feel bad about myself.