The Bathtub: Men in Cages: A Brief Listing of Updates on Topics I Once Blogged About

So, I was really psyched about the possibility of providing everyone with a massive end-of-tub update on my life, wherein I would alert you to the current status of everything that was once discussed in my posts. I was going to tell you about my fabulous match.com girlfriend and my brother’s haircut and all sorts of other wonderful changes that have come to pass in the world of Tori. Unfortunately, I still don’t have a fabulous girlfriend, my brother’s hair is still atrocious, and my life is really quite similar to how it was a few months ago. Nonetheless, I'm going to do my best to provide updates anyway.

1.) The world has not come to an end. Way back in February, I predicted that the allure of lesbianism was likely to prompt the apocolypse. In case you hadn’t noticed, this prediction has failed to come true.

I recognize that this claim is somewhat controversial, but I’m going to go ahead and blame the earth’s continued existence on Miss Lindsay Dee Lohan. As you’ll recall, I stated that it was Lindsay’s conversion to Team Carpetmuncher that would render the practice of girl-on-girl action irresistible to women the world over. Problematically, during my tenure as senior feminist correspondent to the Bathtub, Linds has gone from “sexy party girl” to “dumbass slut” to “heinous waste of space.” Correspondingly, lesbianism has gone from "mad hott" to "viable lifestyle choice" to "fucking gross."

2.) I still think it's gross to have sex with animals. But I will admit that I find Lauren's dog to be quite attractive.

3.) I got a job. You already know this, of course, because I wrote a post about my new job. (Actually, I wrote two posts about my new job, but one was deemed to be libel.) In my second post about my job, I basically just bitched that my office is inadequately similar to “The Office.” I recently learned, however, that it’s quite easy to turn one’s office life into an “Office” episode – you simply need to join the party planning committee.

My office doesn’t have an Angela, but we do have a Hyacinth. A brief summary of party planning fun with Hyacinth:

1.) Hyacinth suggests that we give out gift baskets (containing fruits, cheeses, and other shit no one wants or needs) as door prizes at the holiday party.
2.) Everyone cool ignores this suggestion and discusses superior door prize options (iPod shuffles, gift certificates, movie passes).
3.) On December 6, Hyacinth brings in gift basket catalogue. At 7:58 am, she sends out an e-mail suggesting we all come by and check out the gift basket selection, making bold statements such as, “All the gift baskets are just beautiful! Stop by and see!”
4.) Absolutely no one goes to see Hyacinth’s catalogue.
5.) At 1:33 pm, Hyacinth sends out a threatening e-mail, alerting us to the fact that if no one comes and looks at her gift basket catalogue in the next hour, she is just going to order whatever she wants.
6.) A group of cool people agree that we should look at the catalogue and make it clear to Hyacinth that we want a maximum of one shitty gift basket ordered.
7.) At 1:50 pm, I send the following, non-obtuse e-mail to the whole of the party planning committee: “Sherylls, Alena, and I just stopped by Hyacinth’s office and flipped through the catalogue. Our favorite gift basket was the Crane Lake Duet (includes two bottles of wine, sweets, and savory items). Our two cents: we think it best to just get one gift basket as a door prize and then select one or two other items as the other door prizes. (Variety is, after all, the spice of life.)”
8.) At 1:52 pm, Hyacinth replies, stating, “Great! I will go ahead and order this as the 1st prize, and two smaller gift baskets as the other two prizes.”
9.) Baffled by the fact that basket-obsessed Hyacinth misunderstood my message, I immediately reply, “To clarify, we didn’t mean to imply that we wanted two smaller gift baskets as the other two prizes. What we were thinking was that the other two prizes could be entirely non-gift-basket-esque. (A gift card or show tickets or something else fun . . . )”
10.) Hyacinth’s reply (1:58 pm): “Too late… I have already ordered them!!!!!” I shit you not. The woman employed FIVE exclamation points. (Can’t you just hear her cackle maniacally at the end of that sentence?)
11.) I jump out of my chair and scream at my computer, so horrified am I by the fact that Hyacinth was able to order multiple lame gift baskets during the time it took me to tell her not to do so.
12.) Multiple acceptable members of the party planning committee e-mail Hyacinth asking her if she is kidding.
13.) At 2:01 pm, Hyacinth assures us that she is not kidding – the baskets have already been ordered.
14.) At 2:04 pm, my officemate walks into my office, gift basket catalogue in tow, informing me that Hyacinth just asked her to order the baskets for her.
15.) I immediately go public with the news that Hyacinth is a big liar. I state that we do, in fact, have time to change our minds.
16.) Multiple acceptable members of the party planning committee suggest alternative prizes, such as movie tickets.
17.) Hyacinth informs the group that she is “not in favor of movie tickets since some people do not go to the movies.”
18.) At 2:15, I send what I think to be an innocuous e-mail: “Not everyone in the office has identical preferences. For this reason, I think it important to offer a diversity of prizes. Just as some people do not go to the movies, other people may not be interested in a gift basket.”
19.) Hyacinth is horrified and offended. She informs me that “most people I know eat food, and that is the content of the gift basket.” She then insists we order at least one gift basket and refuses to discuss the matter further.
20.) We order one lame gift basket and commence rejoicing.

4.) I acquired exactly zero match.com girlfriends. Admittedly, I was only a member of match.com for one month and I never actually made a profile or anything. Basically, I browsed the profiles, found one lady I considered interesting, and contacted her. After approximately two weeks of fervent e-mail exchange, I asked my e-mail correspondent if she would be interested in meeting face-to-face. She informed me that this wasn't a good plan, on account of the fact that she was dating someone else. (This news came as something of a shock, as I generally expect people I contact on dating websites to be, you know, available for dating.) Apparently she'd just begun dating dating someone else when first I contacted her, but she'd found my prose so alluring that she'd chosen to maintain a correspondence with me anyway. So she sent me a couple more e-mails extolling my virtues and asking that I remain her friend, but I basically just ignored her.

In early September, I received a facebook message from my match.com pal. (This also came as something of a shock as we were not facebook friends. Also because we hadn't spoken in four months.) She told me that she missed my charming e-mails and hoped we could once again establish a correspondence. I assumed this meant she'd broken up with her ladyfriend. It didn't. She was still with her ladyfriend. Her ladyfriend just couldn't proudce the quality of e-mails that I was capable of. Anyway, I, once again, ignored her.

On Halloween, I received an e-mail - subject line "keeping you abreast of things afoot" - from none other than my match.com pal. The e-mail was very long. It discussed cinnamon and Holden Caulfield and "life's curious whimsy." It concluded with the following paragraph: "It turns out I haven't quite been able to get you out of the corner of my mind; and at the same time my former flame couldn't quite get her ex out of her mind. This is a long story, during which I believe I play the clown. The point of this e-mail ... I owe you a drink, if you would be inclined to humour me and take me up on it sometime. Venue of your choosing. Provided, of course, you do not have an ex (that takes Brazilian jujitsu and has a huge dragon tattoo) that you're secretly lusting after."

I saw it as being in my best interest to take this girl up on her offer, as she was so profoundly interested in me that she had stalked me down for over six months, in spite of being in a relationship with someone else for the entire time. So I wrote back. And we corresponded for a few weeks. I then asked her if we might meet up sometime. She wrote back to inform me that she was taking a new job in Chicago and that, consequently, our romance was not to be.

I expect that she'll contact me again in three to five months.

5.) I've gotten no better at talking to cool girls. Unfortunately, lots of uncool girls seem to have no problem talking to me. Actual ongoings at the HRC Women's Holiday Party (aka, big lesbian bash):

(Setting the scene: Tori is standing at the bar, looking fabulous. A weird, older woman approaches the bar. In spite of the fact that this is a fancy event, weird, older woman is wearing pants that appear to be made out of hemp and a ratty t-shirt that pictures a woman symbol with a fist coming out of it.)

Weird, older woman says, “Don’t you hate it that you can’t smoke in bars anymore?”
Tori says, “Uhm . . . nope.”
Weird, older woman says, “How are you supposed to meet people in bars if you can’t smoke?”
Tori says, “Did you used to meet people by saying, ‘My, what a dirty, disgusting habit you have. You’ll probably die soon.’?”
Weird, older woman says: “Aren’t you witty!”
Tori thinks, “Shit. I was going for offensive. Not witty. Abort! Abort!”
Weird, older woman says, “I’m Deny.”
Tori says, “What?”
Weird, older woman says, “My name. It’s Deny. Nice to meet you.”
Tori says, “How do you spell that?”
Weird, older woman says, “D-E-N-A-E.”
Tori says, “I’m pretty sure that’s not a name.”
Denae says, “Well, it’s not my given name; it’s my chosen name.”
Tori says, “Um . . . right.”
Denae says, “How is me choosing a name for myself any more odd than my parents choosing a name for me?”
Tori says, “Well, uh, I’m Tori. That’s my given name and my chosen name.”
Denae says, “Oh, you’re so logical. I bet you do something with numbers. I bet you have a mathy job.”
Tori says, “I do social science research.”
Denae says, “I knew it!”
Tori says, “Right . . . and, um, what do you do?”
Denae says, “I am a graduate student at Maryland. I’m studying rhetoric, specifically hunger strikes.”
Denae babbles about hunger strikes for an extremely long time before going off to dance with some old, butch-looking person. Tori runs off to find her friends.
Denae finds Tori again.
Denae says, “So, I provided you with wisdom. Now I want you to provide me with wisdom. What do you do when you no longer have a teacher?”
Tori finds this question vaguely compelling, but doesn’t want to encourage the crazy lady. So she says something intelligent, but concise.
Denae says, “But you’re talking about education. What I am in search of is a new spiritual teacher. I fear my current spiritual teacher is going to die soon.”
Tori says, “Well, I’m not so into religion or spirituality or anything.”
Denae is aghast. She instructs Tori to breathe in and breathe out. She asks Tori questions about the difference between the air she is breathing and the air other people are breathing. She makes vague comments about the cosmos and our interconnectedness. Eventually she leaves. Tori runs off to find her friends.
Tori dances and has fun with her friends.
Much later, Tori goes to get her coat. Out of nowhere appears Denae, who grabs Tori and attempts to kiss her. Tori squirms out of Deane’s arms and runs out the door.
Tori’s friends laugh at her profusely.

6.) I haven't gotten any better looking, I haven't gotten in any fights, and I'm still thrilled that I no longer live in the wilderness. Oh, and I've had a FUCKING AWESOME TIME.

Seriously though, I've had a great time writing for this blog. Well, that's somewhat inaccurate. To quote Dorothy Parker, "I hate writing, but I love having written." It hasn't been easy to sit down and hammer out posts, but it has been awesome to see my written product up here on the interweb. So yeah, it's been a pleasure having written. My thanks to Lauren, my fellow Tubtribs, and my legions of fans. I <3 you all - almost as much as I <3 girls jumping on trampolines.

Tori has toyed with the idea of starting her own blog, but she doesn't recommend that you get your hopes up or anything.

6 Comments

Umm, are you sure you want to be blogging about work again after what happened last time?

Posted by: JD | December 28, 2007 at 05:43 PM

Definitely start your own site. The retelling of the match.com story and the Denae story just now were HILARIOUSSSSSSS.

Posted by: Lauren | December 28, 2007 at 07:11 PM

i've been sitting here laughing at this post all morning and my mom keeps saying "what's so funny?" so i've been sitting here yelling "tori's post! tori's post!" all morning. i <3 you tori ball. (but as a friend, not creepily like denae.)

Posted by: EmGusk | December 29, 2007 at 09:34 AM