It’s Not You, It’s Me…. Me and My Apartment
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03 Jan 2008 ›
11:20am
Yawn…. Drool…
I’ve been out late with Ali for the past few nights . She is officially over Jule which brings up a particularly Manhattan dilemma—how to break up with ones boyfriend AND call the movers within hours, without seeming like a heartless bitch. God knows it’s a double kick in the walnuts to lose a good woman and a good apartment within a single day. She is just sick with pre-guilt. I don’t blame her. I abhor the countdown-to-the-dump. I think I may actually prefer to be dumped! Not that I have a ton of experience in that area. For the most part, the dudes in my life don’t dump—they just misbehave until I have to pull out a rifle and put the God forsaken affair out of its misery. Perhaps all the estrogen in Soy is to blame for the wussification of the American male. Ya think? But I digress. Bottom line: I’m sure Jule knows the end is near, so I recommend Ali rip off the Band-Aid ASAP.
