tales of a girl in the city

mars 22, 2004

Someone from Moldova reads my blog.

I have been waiting my whole life to say that.

In other news, the ole' Unicorn post from yesterday has sure stirred up quite a frenzy. I love you all for being incensed on my behalf. Knowing that there are people in Moldova who care whether or not my boobs get touched, pretty much makes my life worth living. My boobs are also thrilled to be internationally known and cared for. In fact, they would like to say a few words:

Boob Left *with British accent*: Hullo. Bully for us, I say. Pip-pip.

Boob Right *Southern Belle*: We have always depended on the kindness of strangers.

I don't particularly care if any of you thought that was funny. That little boob dialogue will pretty much keep me laughing for the rest of March.

Anyway, onto things that--while bigger--are certainly NOT better than my hilarious boobs.

As far as the Unicorn is concerned, seems many of you have some unanswered questions that I will now attempt to address.

The largest issue seems to be regarding U's relationship with this mysterious Smoking Girl. Well, the answer to this quandry was provided by Emily herself last evening.

Time travel. Back to U's last visit in October, 2003. There was at that time, a small blemish on U's seemingly perfect record. He sent me a brief email informing me of his impending visit.

The email began, "Dear Eva."

NOW, I say, "AHA! Scoundrel! Who is this Eva person?"

AT THAT TIME, having met female friends of U's on several occasions who he knew from school, and who were absolutely, undoubtedly just CHUMS and nothing more (I know this because they were around when we were making out and were--at all times--perfectly calm and friendly) I made fun of him for calling me Eva, and believed him when he said that he had cut and copied the email to a bunch of his friends to save time and let everyone know when he'd be around.

He apologised. He came to visit. Insert: fun montage of us drinking and laughing and then making out all over Manhattan.

And no Eva appeared on that evening or any other.


Because (dun-dun-dun-DUN) last night Emily, who is a Super Sleuthing Best Friend Extraordinary Private Eye Genius, called with Big News.

Turns out, Em, who had stayed with the group after I left, had actually spoken to Smoker Girl at some point later in the evening (Em is so clever and tricky).

At that time, SG took the cigarette out of her lips long enough to reveal to Emily...

...that she was Eva!!

Smoker Girl = Eva!

I know!!! Right? It's like finding out the identity of the second shooter on the grassy knoll. HUGE.

Boob Left *British*: Quite important, really. Quite.

Boob Right *Southern*: Sweetheart, you could knock me over with a feather. He seemed like such a nice boy.

So that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is all we know. Because after revealing her identity, Smoker Girl Eva put her cigarette back in her mouth and returned to smoky silence.


Though this information raises other questions that will likely remain unanswered, it does give us a bit of insight into the destruction of this particular Unicorn.

As to why in hell The Con-Artist Formerly Known as Unicorn would've called me, that question was answered by TCAFKAU's friend J :

*Standing in line to get into second bar of the evening*

"It's great to see you again, J," I say, huddling with him and Emily under our umbrella.

"Yeah, I totally wanted to hang out. That's why I told Unicorn to call you."



Sometimes my life is so like an Unrequited-Love Molly Ringwald Teen-80's Movie that I can barely control myself from rushing home to my house on The Wrong Side of the Tracks, to start drawing sketches of the prom dress I'm going to sew myself.

I mean. Really.

Oh, and, lastly, as for Emily's whereabouts after my departure. Let's just say I received the following text message from her at 3:44 a.m.:

// Love. //

And that is all I'm going to say about that.