Manny Poppins and other musings

Well kids, I finally determined how much "too much wine" actually is.  The details shall remain details, to be journaled about and discussed while horizontal on my therapists couch, for I am afraid if they were to come out you would see me in a different light and this blog would lose all credibility. OR sharing them would gain us credibility and legitimacy and prove once and for all, our life decisions are questionable. I spare you though. I've got my reasons. Lets just say I woke up at 10am fully clothed, heels on, and several dollars lighter. The biggest disappointment was having missed four 3:30am booty calls. I have a lot to make up for in the next week.

On Friday, Girls in the Buff celebrated its one week anniversary. BOO! We made it! I find this significant because I tend to pick up "hobbies" only to put them down an hour later. I have approximately 16 unfinished scarves, 3 model airplanes still in their boxes, a train set barricading a room in my parents house, 5 unfinished paintings, and let's not even get started on the ant farm/graveyard. But here we are, our first benchmark....one week and a handful of days. And we are going strong. Don't worry, there are more sordid stories stored on our BBM, texts, and emails that shall leak out in the weeks and months to come. Point being, we're dysfunctional, we have plenty of fodder for the masses.

I'd like to take a minute to apologize to the folks that have googled the following and ended up at our blog, extremely disappointed I am sure-girls in the buff, chicks, buff, boobs,tits,in, the etc. We've had a good amount of traffic through the blog, but I remain confident that most of the traffic has been caused by a few lonely folks seeking adult entertainment and instead  finding themselves here-a self described self indulgent window into the psyche of off kilter, intelligent, yet insane women attempting life.  Please don't hate us. Our intent was NOT to dupe you...though we are reaping the benefits.

So, in a series of losses this week, green eyed sociopath (real loss?, not sure), dignity (see "too much wine" commentary), favorite earring (see "too much wine" commentary as well), I lost my Manny. For those of you not in the KNOW, Manny is Man Nanny.  I am not wealthy, I might even be kinda poor depending on what guidelines you use (the guidelines set forth by the Federal Government or Cosmo), but yes, I had a Manny (Think Tony Danza only 6'5, Puerto Rican and stunning. I never did catch him in the shower, though believe me, I tried. Oy, I just aged myself.). I am in my late 20's, I have no kids, save the infant that I turn into after a few bottles of wine, I rent, my phone gets turned off once a month, and I have a dog. I need a Manny.

Let's begin at the beginning. My dear beautiful friend Rico (anonymity is crucial here, who would want to be associated with me?), was headed off to school in Toronto to get his N.D (Nature Doctor, like dude who plays bongos to stop the profuse bleeding from your femoral artery following a horrible wild bear attack, or dude who uses pins and shit to heal pain and anxiety, blah blah blah). At the border, however, Rico was turned away, he was told NO, you cannot enter this country and learn.  So, Manny Rico found his way back to our house and sadly set up a bedroom and a life, anticipating his stay would last for an eternity (read: a few months).

This is boring, I'm going to skip a few weeks.

Rico wanted to give back to the house for my roommates incredible hospitality (I'm fairly inhospitable and toxic and bitter), so he did our dishes, walked my dog, and cooked. FOR FREE. I suggested he wear an elephant banana hammock, BECAUSE OF HIS DEEP LOVE FOR ELEPHANTS, but he opted out. That was my addition to the relationship.

Rico found his way back into Toronto last week. I cannot say how or when.....or whether it was by legal means, but he went back. Which means he's doing more astrology than dishwashing, more smellotherapy than dog walking.

So, this weekend I watched sadly as the dishes took over the kitchen and a segment of the bathroom, dog moped around the house, my bed went unmade, and my life turn to shambles. I blame it all on the loss of my Manny Poppins (see "too much wine" commentary as PROOF).

My Manny lies over the border, My Manny lies over the lake......Please bring back my Manny to Meeeeeee.