In the beginning of this year, I discovered something that made me happier than I’d been in a very long time.
No, I didn’t walk into my bedroom and find George Clooney, naked, whispering:
GEORGE: You complete me.
I said, “happier than I’d been in a long time”. I didn’t say “the happiest I will ever be in my entire life”. That being said, some of you will recall it was truly a life changing moment for me.
Today, things could not be more different. No, not different, tragic. You see, my local grocery store has stopped selling the lactose free cottage cheese. With no warning, not even a tweet telling me: “you aren’t worth it”, my life now consists of me walking up to every cantaloupe I see and telling it:
JESSICA: I’m sorry but I just can’t.
Sure people stare but what do I care. I barely can barely see anything through the thick veil of tears that are constantly running down my cheeks and no I”m not embarrassed either. Why should I be? I’m grieving, one, and two, I’m usually too busy telling the security guards to back off, that I know perfectly well where the door is and can walk out of the store on my own.
I’m getting better every day. I tend to avoid the fruit section all together right now and that seems to be working although the other day, I was in Beverly Hills and as some woman walked by wearing her enormous breasts and little else, a guy yelled out:
Teddy, my dog, is the cutest, most loving, money suck, I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Apparently, in Los Angeles, there is a movement of sorts to make sure that boarding your dog at a reputable place will put you directly in line for bankruptcy. I would ask a neighbor to watch him but conveniently, all of them are allergic to helping me. Well, they don’t say that exactly, but they don’t have to. I am a New York Jew who knows damn well that telling someone you can’t care for their dog because you have allergies is code for “and who is going to pay when you dog takes a dump on my brand new rug? You? Ha!”
I bring this up because I took Teddy to this place called, Canine We Don’t Want You Here to have him evaluated in the hopes that I could board him for three days while I was in NYC. Unfortunately, I was told after I waited half an hour that perhaps I should go elsewhere.
Now, I don’t want to bash the owner, because I’m not the type of person to toss the words, passive aggressive, a head the circumference of the moon and clothing so ugly it’s been outlawed in every state, out there, but I will say that I would’ve preferred it if she had not woken up my sorry ass at the unGODLY hour of 7:48am to tell me I had to be on time for my 9:30am appt because she had another client coming in, a client that turns out to have been a figment of her imagination as my ass was still parked in a chair there at 10am and trust me, I didn’t see no other “client”.
Thankfully, I found the only non allergic person (read: lover of all Jews) to stay at my home with Teddy. I was hoping he might stay with the man I’ve been seeing but, well let’s just say that “Project Find a Husband” may soon have to be renamed, “Project Trying to Get Past the Eight Week Mark” or perhaps, “Project Find A Way to Skip Right to the Eight Week Mark”. It’s okay. At least I still have a goal, right? I mean, all is not lost. I could go back to the guy on Match.com who posted pictures of himself wearing,:
1. A suit
2. A cowboy outfit and
3. A flannel shirt with a tool belt around his waist
because not for nothin, how many times in one’s life do you have the opportunity to f**k the ALL Village People in one fell swoop?
