Mother, Mother
March 10th, 2007
I’m hungry, I’m thirsty, I’m losing my mind. Everything’s fine.
OK so I’ve taken a little liberty with Tracy Bonham’s lyrics but (get ready for the whine),
I really want some sushi and a glass of wine. Make it a half bottle. At this point, I’d be head over heels if leftovers of day old Go Sushi maki and a water cooler paper cone cup of the JetBlue exclusive wine Best Cellars Just Sauvignon Blanc was offered to me.
See I’m more than willing to compromise because I fully realize beggars can’t be choosers. I don’t need Nobu Matsuhisa to make a house call with Domaine de la Romanée-Conti. Give me something that resembles a fermented grape but just give it to me already.
“It can all be yours in a few short weeks” you say? Have patience my dear cancer.
Fine, imaginary voice of reason conjured in my “shouldn’t be blogging this early” mind to represent what all of the well meaning individuals would say if I whined about sushi and wine in real life. Clearly they wouldn’t remember Cancers are known for their remarkable lack of patience.
Someone please make sure my order is ready post haste after this highly anticipated (and for the record: never going to happen again) debut. If I’ve been a good girl patiently (for the most part!!!) waiting forty weeks, it better be for some high quality toro.
Throw in a venti sugar free vanilla non fat latte as dessert and you will really know how to make this girl happy. 
And now I promise to cease whining out loud and go back to doing my very own personal form of no one hears me because I’m alone in my bedroom type of karaoke to Yoko Ono -
O’oh, Central Park,
O’oh, Evening Skyline
while looking up from the laptop screen to see rightfully pissed off women singing their overly made up selves off on VH1. (See mister cab driver who got lost taking me over to see Tracey, I really do watch the channels I appear on. Don’t ask.)
