Thursday, December 29, 2005
Party Harty
Conversation that I just had with my beloved Randy:
Me: Randy, does this sweater say, "hey- here's my boobs?"
Randy: Chloe, you got big tits. Everything says that.
Awesome.
Don't be misled by the tone of the story that I am about to tell. I am in incredibly good spirits this morning and making everyone around me sick with my perky attitude.
Last Night.
Party at Marc's. Arrived around 10ish. I looked hot. I was walking through the greeting line, hugging, kissing, etc, etc and I got to Marc last. Big hug and a kiss on the cheek. I stepped away a little to wait for Karen to make it through the Niceties Gauntlet and Marc kept his hand on my arm, running it up and down.
"You look beautiful, " he said. Then reached out and ran his thumb across the dimple in my left cheek. He LOVES my dimple. I don't think I've ever once seen him and not had him touch it.
We didn't talk much the rest of the evening. There was a lot of people there. Including one mildly famous up and coming actor that I had met previously, who declared me the best chocolate chip cookie maker ever, and then tried to get me drunk. I was working very hard not to go out of my way to talk to Marc or to appear to always be looking for him. I flirted with lots of boys. I danced. I drank too much beer.
Midnight was time for me to go. Karen had left and I was tired of making nice with people I didn't know very well. I said my goodbyes and barely got acknowledged by Marc. I was mildly irritated that he couldn't spare 5 seconds to say goodbye to me. But I wasn't learning anything I didn't already know- that I am not a priority to him. And it's time for me to move on accordingly.
2:05 am
Text message received:
Thanks for coming. I'm glad you were there.
From: Marc.
SON-OF-A-BITCH.
Me: Randy, does this sweater say, "hey- here's my boobs?"
Randy: Chloe, you got big tits. Everything says that.
Awesome.
Don't be misled by the tone of the story that I am about to tell. I am in incredibly good spirits this morning and making everyone around me sick with my perky attitude.
Last Night.
Party at Marc's. Arrived around 10ish. I looked hot. I was walking through the greeting line, hugging, kissing, etc, etc and I got to Marc last. Big hug and a kiss on the cheek. I stepped away a little to wait for Karen to make it through the Niceties Gauntlet and Marc kept his hand on my arm, running it up and down.
"You look beautiful, " he said. Then reached out and ran his thumb across the dimple in my left cheek. He LOVES my dimple. I don't think I've ever once seen him and not had him touch it.
We didn't talk much the rest of the evening. There was a lot of people there. Including one mildly famous up and coming actor that I had met previously, who declared me the best chocolate chip cookie maker ever, and then tried to get me drunk. I was working very hard not to go out of my way to talk to Marc or to appear to always be looking for him. I flirted with lots of boys. I danced. I drank too much beer.
Midnight was time for me to go. Karen had left and I was tired of making nice with people I didn't know very well. I said my goodbyes and barely got acknowledged by Marc. I was mildly irritated that he couldn't spare 5 seconds to say goodbye to me. But I wasn't learning anything I didn't already know- that I am not a priority to him. And it's time for me to move on accordingly.
2:05 am
Text message received:
Thanks for coming. I'm glad you were there.
From: Marc.
SON-OF-A-BITCH.
Labels: Marc
