Packing up?

Dude, can we discuss that yesterday was so warm I didn't have to wear my parka, and today we're expecting eight inches of snow? It's the end of the world, isn't it?

In other news, love really seems to have taken over this apartment, and there's rumors that both Cee and Dee might be headed to cohabitation with their mates. Cee is closer to that prospect than Dee. She and her boyfriend, Nee, just bought an apartment in Brooklyn. That means Cee will be leaving next January, ending a more than three-year tenure in the room in the northwest corner upstairs.

Dee is spending more and more time---we're talking all weekend and more than two nights on average—at London Fling's enplace. They even picked out furniture together (it better be pet friendly though, cause don't think I won't have my happy ass over to visit from time to time!). If my favorite auntie leaves, I'll be crushed. But I'll be lobbying for Dee and LF to babysit me when Bee goes out of town.

Got that Mr. Fling? Make room on the couch.

False alarm

Sadly, Bee won't be joining Dee in Buenos Aires. Here's what happened:

On Sunday, Bee thought to look at the American Airlines' Web site to see if she had enough miles to fly to Buenos Aires. On Sunday, Bee decided she wanted to go. On Sunday, Bee shohuld have booked the ticket.

Instead, she asked for permission from her boss on Monday (which she got by one in the afternoon). Bee should have booked the second she got approval.

Then Bee waited for her colleagues to check their vacation, which brought Bee into Tuesday night. She should have booked the ticket when her youngest colleague said she had to check with her roommate first. Bee is older. She should have pulled rank.

By Wednesday AM, the seats were gone. Now Dee is taking off for South America, and Bee will be sitting on the couch.

Lesson learned? Go for what you want when you want it. Otherwise, Bee and I will never get the eff out of here.

Detour

Now there's rumors that Dee and Bee are going to Buenos Aires. Scratch that, Dee is going to Buenos Aires and Rio, Bee needs to commit to going to Buenos Aires.

Bee is five hours from booking a flight with frequent flyer miles.

My skin

is so much better since bee put some Omega 3 additives in my food. This dry winter air, especially in thie hot-as-hell hotbox apartment, gets so flaky and itchy that I end up scratching a hole in my ass. But with the extra vitamins, my skin is much smoother.

I feel like I've been handed my own capsule of Oil of Olay.

Day after

Happy day after Valentine's Day! I heard a funny thing on the radio today. The broadcasters were saying that this is acutally Side Bitch or Side Brouagh day, where you show your woman or your man on the side some loving. Totally true. V-day is the day you gotsta put up with your main squeeze (for me, that would be no one, for Ei and Bee nobody, and for Dee and Cee that would be London Fling and Nee, respectively)

Today though, was for the Side Bitches and Broaughs. For me, that's Gizmo down the street, the Boston Terrier I walk with every day who thinks he's my main Broaugh, but really he's just a side hustle. EI, Dee and Cee don't have any Side Broaughs.

But Bee, that's a different story. I can't figure this one out. She was home both yesterday and today, but gone on Tuesday. She spent all day on V-day alone, but was on the phone all night tonight giggling and cooing to someone. And she's been coming home at least once a week to put on fancy dresses and high heels and go right back out within the hour. And for six weeks in a row she's spent the night out somewhere.

I think she's got something on the side going on. Just can't quite put my paw on who.

Monday

Number of roommates sleeping here: three (Dee, yet again, is odd woman out)
Number of hours spent without hot water on Sunday: twelve
Number of walks that I get a day now that the mercury barely climbs above freezing: two, three when the dog walker comes
Number of minutes the average walk now takes: 20
Number of roommates that are contemplating career changes: two
Number of roommates actually acting on career changes: one

Bee and her friend M. saw two exhibits at two different museums yesterday, an attempt to break out of their brunch-and-bitch Sunday routine where the two devour omelets at an overcrowded Upper East Side restaurant and complain about their jobs, finances and love lives. Though M. stayed positive through most of their outing, Bee is not capable of finding something right with her life on Sundays. It's the one day she realizes that she's not rich and therefore worth nothing and therefore needs to work harder/go to the gym/lose weight to become anorexic skinny or whatever to improve herself cause her current state isn't good enough. Yes, crazy.

Anyway, M., who rarely has anything critical to say about herself because she considers herself, well, perfect, said that the current fashions have caused her to gain weight. Trapeze dresses, tunics, high-waisted or drop-waisted dresses and layering have allowed women to hide behind their clothes. The forgiving tailoring allows more room for a second slice of toast, or dessert, or another glass of wine. Though the trend is uber comfortable, it's also waistline unfriendly.

I agree with that. Now that I wear sweaters and parkas most days, I too, have enjoyed my fair share of treats, second helpings of dinner and human food that I eagerly lick from the ground. I definitely have reached my winter weight (2 pounds heavier than my summer weight) now that I can hide behind not only clothes, but longer nights which also camoflague my true shape.

Spring, and snug fitting pieces like bodysuits and miniskirts, need to return so we all can get our girlish figures back.

Miami part deux

Bee just unpacked her bags from her last Miami trip, but there's already talk of another jaunt south in March. Dee and Bee had planned to go to back for Winter Music Conference, just like last year (remember Dee got lucky with the retarded kid?). Bee needs to commit to the trip, because Dee is ready to go.

As for me, I'm still rather depressed. At least I had more energy last night as the temperature warmed up a few degrees. I actually saw one of my doggie boyfriends last night and tackled him in the street. Because that is what I do. It's called flirting.

But since I still have to wear my parka outside when we take walks, I'm going to sleep most of the day while Bee goes to the gym, does laundry, talks to her mother about how she's never going to get married, complains about her finances and then pounds a bottle of wine (which by the way, leaves her with $15 less in her wallet).

In mourning

Excuse me for not posting sooner. I spent all day in mourning after my precious Bears lost in the Super Bowl. That darn Rex Grossman. As many a sports commentator and Chicago native have said in the last two days, we're just one quarterback away from winning the Super Bowl.

Anyway, I slumped around all day not just sad by the Bears loss, but also because it's effing cold outside. A high of 22 degrees, lows in the teens. This is not ideal for my black ass.

Bee needs a transfer. Stat.

In other news:

Number of roommates sleeping here: three (Dee's the odd woman out, and has been for the last three days)
Number of bottles of wine in the house: one, though that may change if this weather stays ridiculously bitter. The girls will need alcohol to keep them warm.
Number of roommates still working well past 11 P.M.: two
Number of roommates that are on a diet: surprisingly, none.
Number of bars of chocolate in the apartment: none
Number of cartons of eggs in the refrigerator: two