What I Do When XFE is Away

My caretaker-for-life XFE is out of town for work. He actually travels for work quite a bit. I used to get really annoyed about that. For some reason, I thought he was out, galavanting and having a grand ole time.

But, I’ve travelled. I’ve been in an airport and dealt with long security lines. I’ve been at a hotel check-in counter and been told that my room isn’t ready yet. I’ve rented a car and had to drive around in a town you don’t necessarily know you’re way around. I’ve tried to find breakfast, lunch and dinner in a foreign town.

Did that bitch get more champagne than me?

So, even though he’s traveling for work, and it is the same handful of cities, I no longer think he’s out on some wild bachelor’s weekend.

I also use this time apart to have a little Poe party. Ms. Petunia and I do tons of girly things without some boy about. Toons doesn’t share the couch with me like she normally does and instead she takes over XFE’s chair.

She’s in a cheese coma.

We watch really crappy reality TV that even XFE (who will normally watch anything) would turn his nose up at. Stuff like Teen Mom.

We also eat a lot of cheese and other snacky foods. Like, for dinner. With sparkling wine.

And, we take lots of long, bubble baths. Well, I do. Petunia sits on the toilet and watches.

My bubble baths are a bit less salacious.

While I always enjoy the time apart, it doesn’t take me long to fall into my slovenly lazy ways and within about 24 hours, I start to really miss XFE and the structure he brings to my life. (By structure, I mean how he bosses me around, obviously. Asking me things like, “Did you shower today? Did you feed your cat?” What a nag.)

XFE left on a Wednesday. That night, I went for a very sweaty and humid run, laid in the tub for 100 years before finally dragging myself out and making fajitas with leftover steak.  So far so good: I worked out and managed to feed myself with items currently in the house.

Yep, everyone is fed and well-behaved so far.

Thursday, well….  Instead of working out, I went to DSW and bought three pairs of work shoes. OK, but to be fair, I’ve really started to notice how much my shoe repairs are costing me and well, it just makes sense to just start buying new shoes instead of constantly repairing them. Right?? Plus, I had a $10 coupon.

No edible shoes at DSW, but I feel like Lisa would agree with my logic.

And, instead of coming home and cooking after that little spree, I picked up sushi. When I got home, I watched three episodes of Don’t Be Tardy for the Wedding, which has been on my to-do list for a really long time, so that’s progress.

Andy Cohen, I love you. You too, Kim. Kroy, you’re alright.

And, I stayed up waaaay too late finishing The Book Thief, which is a really good book, but if you have problems sleeping, like I do, you really shouldn’t stay up late doing anything. You should go to bed and try to snatch as much sleep as you can before you wake up at 3:30 am and can’t get back to sleep again until 6 am, about 20 minutes before the alarm goes off. Which is precisely what happened this morning. While Petunia was snoring away right next to me.

OK, so Thursday was a bit of a mess.

Friday went slightly better. I did go for a mosquito-infested run along the waterfront. Which meant I could spend the evening drinking this fine swill while watching Friday night HGTV programming.

Why yes, that is an OK magazine open next to the sparkling moscato.

There’s a show on HGTV that is all about organizing celebrity and million-dollar closets. I have a total closet fetish. I’m obsessed with closet organizing. Ob. Sessed. I love organized things and I love clothes. The Container Store is my nirvana. So finding this show is major. I’ve got to check and see if it’s available On Demand.

Those Housewives have the best closets.

Oh, and dinner was some very fine cuisine of a lean variety. That would be a Lean Cuisine, for those of you with less sophisticated palates than my own.

Let me tell you, it’s a wild Friday night without XFE around. Good thing he’s back tomorrow night. That gives me only about 8 more hours of single girl debauchery.  Crap, that reminds me, I’ve got to some DSW bags to dispose of/hide.

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Some People are So Untrusting

Last week, in the spirit of true and honest love, I dedicated my 200th blog post to my life partner-in-crime, XFE.

I don’t know why you don’t believe my beautiful song is written just for you.

This was how he responded to that lovely gesture:

From: Super important XFE
Sent: Friday, May 04, 2012 9:53 AM
To: Less important Poe
Subject: RE: The Poe log

I appreciate the dedication this morning.

However I believe you may have really wanted to write about RHNJ and figured by throwing me into the mix you would be able to not seem so RH obsessed.

A great gesture, thank you

Have a good day, love you

From: Outraged Poe
Sent: Friday, May 04, 2012 9:54 AM
To: Smug XFE
Subject: RE: The Poe log

BUT I WROTE YOU A SONG!!!

From: Non-contrite XFE
Sent: Friday, May 04, 2012 9:55 AM
To: Insulted Poe
Subject: RE: The Poe log

That response right there tells me my theory is correct

Seems like you have content for post 201 now, reporting how your little dedications ham backfired when you got caught

From: Deny-til-the-End Poe
Sent: Friday, May 04, 2012 9:56 AM
To: Not Buying It XFE
Subject: RE: The Poe log

I was just thinking that…..

Unrelated: Remember how I decided after New York Fashion Week that sleeves were for unstylish losers? I tested out a cardigan sans sleeves last week and I’ve got to say, it was pretty awesome.

I call this my superhero writing cape.

It was pretty handy and kept my shoulders warm. On the 10 minute walk to the metro, I can get pretty warm, but the writing cape captured the early morning breeze like a sail, keeping my back cool and my upper arms warm.

Plus, I used a sweater clip, so it couldn’t fall off. Usually, I end up taking my sweater off about half way into the walk and stuffing it in my purse, where it soon slithers to the sidewalk, never to be seen again (I’ve lot a lot of good cardigans that way). This way, it was attached and couldn’t go anywhere.

Oh, and how do you like that shirt?

I bought it a couple of weeks ago for $20 from Forever 21. Doesn’t it look like something from Anthropologie? Something that maybe costs $330!!!! Seriously, Anthropologie. Who do you think you are??

A Special Shout Out for My 200th Post

Today is my 200th post. Pretty exciting stuff. But also, kind of intimidating. I mean, it needs to be meaningful, right? You only get one 200th post. Unless, of course, you start another blog. Then, I suppose, you would get a second shot at a 200th post.

Anyway, this is THIS blog’s one and only 200th post. And I want to turn down the lights, put on some smooth jazz, and send out a dedication. This post goes out to my schmoopies-for-life, XFE.

(said in a breathy DJ whisper) Boy, you know you’re fine. And, you know I  will always love you. Without you, none of this (just look at all of THIS — *said while twirling around*) is possible.

Boy, I would have written you a song, like my girl Melissa Gorga over on Real Housewives of New Jersey, but since you have yet to build me a recording studio in my house, I did not write you a hit ballad similar to “How Many Times.”

Thank you Bravo, thank you.

But if I did, the lyrics would go like this:

How many times

Can I tell you we can’t have a kangaroo?

How many times

Can Petunia be mean to you?

How many times (x3)

Now I know

Dreams come true

Every night I pray for you

I love you (x3)

I really do

I love you (x3)

I really do.

How many times

Do you make fun of my soy saucing?

How many times

Will you remind me to engage in flossing? (WHAT? Rhyming with ‘saucing’ is hard, y’all!)

How many times (x3)

Anyway, repeat chorus, repeat refrain, ad nauseum. You get the idea.

Oh, further enhancing the romantic theme. We both got the same fortune in our fortune cookies the other night. (Good job there, fortune cookie company.) And basically, we’re both screwed since neither of us really has what the kids would call a “cheerful disposition.”

Reality Time: Fine TV Programming

Hey, have y’all been watching Gold Rush? Because I think these nimrods are on the gold.

"If we squint hard enough, we can make gold appear."

Against all odds, and logic, the Hoffman Crue seems to be working it out. I mean, I’m sure they’ll mess it up, but so far, it looks like they’re going to break even at least. Which is very puzzling for me, because according to Hoffman Math (which is probably as reliable as ThePoeLog Math, which is to say, not very reliable.

Example: I just asked my absent valentine – he’s on a work trip – XFE what time it was in Dallas currently. Before he could answer, I hazarded a guess by deducting three hours from DC time. Let’s let that sink in….I’m FROM Texas. I’ve LIVED in Dallas. I’ve even visited Texas in the last year. And I guessed that the time difference was three hours. Ugh. (It’s not, by the way. Just one hour, in case you’re wondering)

Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah, so the Hoffman’s say they’ve broken even at 70 ounces of gold valued at $110,000. This, they say, covers their operating costs. To which I say, what the what? Last year, a season in which they lost money, by the way, they estimated they spent $250,000. So now, all of a sudden, this year, gold mining only costs $110,000?

So, alright, whatever. The point is: the Hoffman’s have found 70 ounces. After four and a half months, they’ve cleared three different areas, but just barely. It’s just insane. I can’t believe it. It seems like any moron with a bulldozer can tear up a bunch of dirt and find gold.

Also: Bering Sea Gold is amazingly crazy awesome. These guys go out on these “boats,” which are like two pieces of plywood and a lawnmower motor with a tarp and dive down into the water and use a vacuum system to suck up dirt off the ocean floor and they find gold. They find a lot of gold, actually. When they can go out, that is. Since the weather up north is kinda chilly and unpredictable.

Since XFE is out of town, I’ve been catching up on other really embarrassingly bad reality TV. Today has been all about “Teen Mom.” Wow. These broads. It’s honestly the best birth control. If I had a kid, I’d totally make them sit down and watch every damn episode.

And, Proactiv, I get it. You really, really want to sell some acne products. And, yes, there are a lot of teenagers probably watching this. But seriously?? Every damn commercial break? And Justin Bieber talking about rubbing the special cleansing bar against his chest and back makes me feel really creepy. It’s like you guys at MTV don’t even want an almost 40-year-old watching your show.

Also: I am in no way interested in seeing “The Vow.” In fact, I’m thinking about parking myself outside a theater showing it and heckling single women I see walking into it. Have some pride, ladies. It looks HORRIBLE. If Rachel Adams thinks she’s too good for Tatum Channing and can’t find a way to love him, even though he worships her, who cares? I mean, he’s waaaayyyy hotter than her, so I don’t know what she’s being all uppity about. Has she even SEEN his abs???

I’ve also been getting reacquainted with the lovely ladies of the Real Housewives of OC. And whoa. I’m loving the new lady on there, that Heather chic. She’s awesome, she’s thin, she’s rich, she’s beautiful, and it looks like she doesn’t take crap off trashy wanna-be rich blondes. I can’t figure out why she’s joined this trashy (and I mean that in the best way possible) bunch. Does she think she’s going to class this joint up? Because she’s grossly outnumbered here.

"Let me tell you some more about how awesome I am." (Editor's note: I can totally relate.)

Also: I loved that Gretchen and Tamra making nice over drinks and then like a minute later, Tamra totally blasting out Gretchen’s lip job in front of all the other women. Hilarious. That Tamra. Oh man. She’s a jewel. And by jewel, I mean really tacky plastic pop ring.

But my favorite part of the first episode was watching Alexis try to build a career as a commentator on a San Diego local morning news show, doing a segment with the most-awesomely named fitness doctor, Dr. Booty. He seemed like a genius next to Alexis.

Anybody else watching RHoOC? What are you guys watching out there? Any recommendations?

Wanted: New President for Island Paradise

Seems like the Maldives is looking for a new ruler and I’d like to go ahead and throw my hat into the ring.

Now, let me get out a map and figure out exactly where the Maldives are. Ah yes, it’s apparently somewhere in the Indian Ocean, which makes sense since the now-former president Nasheed had requested some help from India in foiling the recent coup. Unfortunately, India wasn’t really in a helping mood this week.

maldives-island

Here’s what I don’t know about the Maldives:

  • Where exactly they are located (but I’ve since solved that issue and now have a pretty good grip on that)
  • What kind of government they have (hadn’t given it much thought before, but if I had had to guess before today, I would have said they were led by a chieftan. Because I assume all island nations are identical to those on Gilligan’s Island, apparently.)
  • What language the Maldivians speak. (apparently it’s Dhivehis. I have no idea what that is, but it looks crazy hard).
  • What currency they use. (It’s the ever popular Maldivian Rufiyaa – MVR. Not, as I kinda thought might be the case, coconuts and shells. I only kinda thought that. I wasn’t 100%. No, my second guess was not the Rufiyaa. Wait, is that any relation to raffia, because raffia is waaay useful. You can make summer totes and sandals and even furniture out of that stuff.)
sandals
These look very presidential.

Alright, alright, it’s abundantly clear that I know absolutely nothing about the Maldives. However, I do not think that this should keep me out of the running to be the Next Her Tremendousness (first act when I am president: change title to Her Tremendousness, per micronation Seborga).

Here are the things I do know about the Maldives (all thanks to Wikipedia – with the exception of the first fact, which I already knew, thankyouverymuch).

  • It’s a hot honeymoon destination. Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes honeymooned there.
  • The temperature ranges from 75 degrees to 91 degrees throughout the year. Hello! That’s ideal! I love the heat. Love, love, love it.
  • Tuna fisheries are one of their main commercial resources (after tourism, obviously). I like tuna. I would make a great spokesperson for the Maldivian Tuna Industry.
  • The other essential product of the Maldives is coir, the fibre of the dried coconut husk– my second favorite fabric for making smart summer totes and sandals.

But let’s get down to brass tacks here: Obviously the island life is quite compatible for me, but what would I bring to the coir-mat-lined table, you ask? Well….

According to the Reuter’s article:

“Nasheed drew opposition fire for his arrest of a judge he accused of being in the pocket of his predecessor, Maumoon Abdul Gayoom, who ruled for 30 years. Protests at the arrest set off a constitutional crisis that had Nasheed defending himself against accusations of acting like a dictator.”

Listen, I pledge right now not to just go around arresting judges. Second, I promise to let them wear other robes rather than just those plain boring black ones. Thirdly, I plan to hire Steven Seagal, Lawman, to come over and sniff out the truth of whether the Maldivian justice system is corrupt. Then he can deal with it. The real key to ruling an island nation is delegation, I think.

Reuter’s goes on to say:

“Most tourists are whisked straight to their island hideaway by seaplane or speedboat, where they are free to drink alcohol and get luxurious spa treatments, insulated from the everyday Maldives, a fully Islamic state where alcohol is outlawed and skimpy beachwear frowned upon.”

Hmmm, don’t know if I’m really down with the whole “Islamic state where alcohol is outlawed,” but I guess I can get my wine happy hour on over at one of the resorts. I fully approve of frowning on skimpy beachwear though. I’m looking (and frowning) at you, Brandi from the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.

brandi-glanville-bikini-beach-2011-3
Totally natural pose. That’s how everybody stands when they’re at the beach.

Which reminds me, my third order of business (after changing my title to Her Tremendousness and hiring Steven Seagal to iron out our justice system) is to bring a reality TV show to the Maldives. Those Housewives ladies are always going on exotic vacations to Africa and Costa Rica and such, so let’s get some of that going in the Maldives. Raise our profile a bit. Sell some coir and tuna.

Also from the Reuter’s article:

“Nasheed was famous for his pleas for help to stop the sea engulfing his nation and in 2009 even held a cabinet meeting underwater, ministers all wearing scuba gear, to publicise the problem.”

Ibrahim Didi

Hey! I know how to scuba dive! I’ve just learned! And while I’m very much a nervous novice, I am fully PADI certified, so I am totally prepared to run a cabinet meeting underwater. As long as there are no sharks and no jelly fish.

Dang. The Maldives is apparently home to many whale sharks. Which, according to this lying blog are “very docile and friendly creatures, posing no threat to scuba divers.”

Whatever. I hereby withdraw my application. Thanks for the consideration. Good luck with that whole coup thing.