Silicon Investor (SI) -- The First Internet Community

STOCKTALK

We've detected that you're using an ad content blocking browser plug-in or feature. Ads provide a critical source of revenue to the continued operation of Silicon Investor. We ask that you disable ad blocking while on Silicon Investor in the best interests of our community. If you are not using an ad blocker but are still receiving this message, make sure your browser's tracking protection is set to the 'standard' level.

Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Jacques Chitte who wrote (20133)	3/26/1999 6:05:00 PM
From: Rambi	Read Replies (5) \| Respond to of 71178

THere is not a female in sight for me to write this to for commiseration. I need to get E or Edwarda here--where's Melinda? I'm sitting here typing and drinking a glass of wine, minding my own business- Cw has left on a date, Ammo will soon be going to a "hot tub party" (what is that? should I worry?) when CW walks in. He wants me to meet his date. I have on bib overalls and sneakers. The house is a disaster. I try to look poised and gracious---and look up. She is 5"9", but weighs maybe 80 pounds. And she's lovely. She's the VP of the student body. She lives in a really gorgeous house according to CW, who had dinner there last week, (and after which said crushingly, "But I wouldn't go out with someone who judged me by my house, so don't worry about meeting her." ) I look around. It's a good thing she is democratic. THere is a layer of cat hair on everything. THe big paint splops are still all over the walls- (I just can't make up my mind. I keep coming back from Home Depot with different shades and flinging more on the walls.) THe maid hasn't been in a week. THere are cat tracks all over the dust on the grand piano. I hope she doesn't have to pee. The cats jumped up on the counter in the guest bath and knocked a vase of potpourri all over the floor yesterday and I just haven't gotten around to vacuuming it up. THey leave. And for some unknown reason, he takes her out through the laundry room, filled with piles of unwashed clothes, and the garage, with the kitty litter that I keep meaning to change. WIth a sigh of relief, I turn back to the kitchen. ANd there's my box wine sitting on the counter. God, I could die. I mean, if I'd known I'd have opened something with a cork.