Important Lessons From the Weekend

I still love Blueberri Stoli.

I discovered this heaven last summer when it first came out, and have been obsessed with it since. Everyone I know that I drink with has become attached to this liquid loveliness, and for good reason. It tastes like candy—you won’t want to drink it with a chaser because it’s so delicious. Friday night I had quite a few while out at a party and I was feeling no pain. A drunk Cheese is a happy Cheese.

I still have a thing for 20 year old boys.

Coming back from the Bloc Party show on the A train with a friend of mine, we were surrounded by “children” who had also attended the show. The train was jam packed and just chock-filled with little cuties who were BEGGING for a Mrs. Robinson like myself to show them the wonders of the world. I giggled and flirted like the best of ‘em, and when I realized that a bevy of them were exiting the train around Spring Street I grabbed my friend’s arm and said “Let’s go with them.” She looked at me with disgust, said “they’re 20. And you have a boyfriend.” She never let’s me have any fun. ;)


I have some serious separation anxiety issues when it comes to my cat.

I hadn’t been home since Thursday morning, and it was now Saturday around 7pm.
I had asked Lesty to check in on Igby in my absence, but was still feeling strangely anxious that I hadn’t been home in so long. Not really aware that I was actually feeling this way, I felt a giant panic attack come on while relaxing on my boyfriend’s couch, which prompted me to get up and start cleaning his kitchen. Quel surprise when I got myself home later that night and felt suddenly fine. Who has separation anxiety? Oh, I do!


My boyfriend’s nose bleeds a lot.

6am Saturday morning, I awoke to find him sitting in the Tony Bennett room with a tissue held up to his nose. Once the bleeding subsided, I took myself back to bed. 6pm Saturday night, I came back to his place after shopping for food for dinner. Bleeding yet again. 3:00 pm Sunday afternoon…

Having sex in the shower can precipitate a serious nosebleed, one that will land you in the ER.

We had finally hauled our stinky, sweaty selves into the shower late Sunday, with full intention of cleaning off only to get dirty again. The frolicking began in the shower itself, and next thing I knew, I was bent over, having great fucking shower sex and excited for more. I suggested we take it to the bedroom, and as I got out to dry off realized that there was blood EVERYWHERE. All over Beehive’s face, his chest, my shower. I believe I screamed. It was NOT a pretty sight, not to mention, we never got to the fucking.

The ER at NY Methodist in Park Slope is rife with hotties.

Ok, maybe it wasn’t RIFE…but there was Hipster doctor, with shaggy hair and a scruffy face, and mod outfit. Then there was hot Indian doctor, with lovely British accent. The doctor that tended to Beehive was quite swoonworthy, in that “Wow, that GQ model is really hot” kind of way. Girls, next time you break a nail, get thee to this place. It’s better than Speed Dating!



I have a hidden maternal instinct.

Cheese: You have blood on your chin. Let me get that for you.

(soaks tissue in water and starts rubbing chin furiously)

Beehive: umm

Cheese: No wait, it’s almost all gone.

Beehive: Can you stop that now?