Sunday.Bannana.Split

So I bought a new pair of shoes and was strapped for cash... sue me. I did what every knowledgeable New Yorker does and headed to the mecca, the motherland, the mac daddy: CraigsList (cue harp strings and golden horns).

I listed my old mac for sale to make some quick cash. Within 24 hours I had dozens of responses... some asking for computer specs, others asking for a picture of my apple bottom (wrong section people). I finally found these two graphic designers who were in desperate need of a mac. I mean, have you ever heard of a graphic designer who has never used a mac? Really?

Since I have a soft spot for converting measly PC users to Apple products I decided to help these guys out and slash 100 bucks from my starting price. After light chatting on the phone and giving them directions to my apartment, around 11pm two flustered men found themselves at my front door. Being a lady and all I chose to only let one of them in; this was to prevent my name from being part of an MSNBC special titled "Dumb Bitches who get Gang Banged by CraigsList Crazies."

So I'm not gonna lie, there was some innocent flirting between me and the guy I let in. Keyword: Innocent. But after my mover incident I was in no hurry to make sluttyness a habit. After the money exchange (which basically made my shoes seem like a free gift) I politely showed him the door. 10 seconds later he knocked and said, "Wait, I have something for you." This grown man handed me the strangest object I have ever been handed in my entire life. He handed me-

A Banana.

A fucking ripe yellow banana. What the fucking fuck?

I said thank you with an obvious confused/awkward smile and closed the door. I put the banana on my coffee table and starred at it.

Was this code for something? Is this him hitting on me? Is this code for I need to eat healthier? Is he an alien? Holy shit, is this fucking banana laced? Are they waiting downstairs for me to ingest the poison and come have their way with me? Is this the new "thing"-- lacing yummy fruit instead of appletinis?

Needless to say I threw the banana out and put it in the incinerator. There is no moral to this story, nor is there an answer as to why this man gave me a banana. This does, however, explain why I'm on benzos. I'm anxious because weird shit happens to me.

A banana. Really?

-Bella

Turn it up

Forget iTunes, forget Napster, even forget LimeWire.  Go to www.Skreemr.com, you don't need to download a large application or pay a fee, just search for a song like google and left click (macs like me ctrl + click) the name of the song file and download to desktop. Email me at SmudgedMascaraBlog@gmail.com if you can't figure out the technological boogie. 

Seriously though, this site has changed my music life. Check it for real real, not for play play. 

I recommend: Manu Chao Welocome to Tijuana

-Bella

Extra Tip

I made it.

I somehow got through moving day. Moving in July in Manhattan is nothing less than a circus: movers, parking (or lack there of), slow elevators, angry neighbors, and tons of bags and shoes that need to be delicately handled.

So we found these movers in the east village... and by movers I mean two men with a large enough vehicle to fit my things. After a few hours of awkward chit chat I found myself oddly attracted to the fully tattooed east village hipster who was throwing my nice things around. Long story short, we made out and I dry-humped him. It was strange, but it was fun. I feel like a badass.

Now its time to sit on my overstuffed boxes with a glass of wine and my crazy roommate. This here begins a new chapter in my life, and many new tales for my faithful ducklings.

-Bella