The Domestic Diva STRIKES AGAIN
What a weekend it’s been - and it’s not even over!
I had a vague understanding earlier in the week that some important Chinese investors were coming to town on Thursday and David was tasked with the responsibility of showing them a good time in addition to all their business meetings.
Well the good time kicked off with an intimate dinner for 10 at Il Mulino in the Village on Friday night. Thing’s started off slow. As predicted I was the youngest at the table and the only two other ladies at the table had children my age. Then we had our Chinese friends - the main investor (about 50, lovely guy - enjoys golf), two interpreters and one of their nephews who was maybe a year older than me.
My first mistake was that due to my dentist appointment earlier in the day, I had literally eaten nothing by the time I got to dinner at 6pm.
My second mistake was avoiding eating any of the food that had red sauce because I didn’t want to stain my teeth. Trying to avoid red sauce at an italian joint where everyone at the table is served a pasta sampler is damn near impossible.
Instead I chose to consume mostly Black Squid Ink Pasta. Looking back on this now, I can clearly say this was not my finest decision making moment.
I know. I can hear you shaking your head and saying *WTF*. I can only say that it must have been the white wine that made me think in my head…
“Oh we’re trying to avoid red sauce? Let’s go with squid ink instead.”
Yeah… so THEN the Chinese are super impressed and confused by my husbands ability to marry such a young, tall and beautiful woman. So much so that at one point the investor instructed the interpreter to stand up, walk over to my husband and ask that David shares his secret with them tomorrow during their business meeting.
Ughhh Thanks… I think?
That’s when thing’s started to get more, relaxed. The idea of karaoke was thrown into the mix. Penis jokes made an appearance. I threw out every phrase or word I knew in Mandarin which pretty much endeared me to them. (I looked up a few phrases before the dinner. Good wife tip #1) Everyone was feeling “friendly”. So I wasn’t surprised when the investor made a grand gesture of having me, the girl who knows nothing about wine except for the fact that I will drink it if you put it in front of me, pick the next bottle of red wine.
The problem with this is that…. I don’t drink red wine. EVER. I hate it. Gives me wicked headaches and I just generally prefer white. But what am I to do?! I was pretty sure at this point that trying to explain to the interpreter that “No i’m so sorry I can’t, I just had my teeth bleached” or “No no I’m so sorry the tannins give me headaches” would most likely get lost in translation.
So I put on my big girl pants and I picked a Tuscan red wine.
And they loved it. So much so that they made me pick the wine for the rest of the night. All in all we rolled out of Il Mulino somewhere around 9pm after consuming 8 bottles wine amongst 6 people.
At this point David and I should have gone home. But that’s not what happened. What happened is that we met up with ANOTHER businessy person and went to the Mercer Kitchen bar where I proceeded to have two champagne cocktails and insisted on drinking them out of a straw.
From that moment until the moment that I’m about to tell you about I have no real recollection of what went on. So this is where we fast forward to the “Domestic Diva” part of the evening.
(FAIR WARNING IF YOU ARE GROSSED OUT BY GROSS THINGS, YOU MAY WANT TO LIKE… SKIM AHEAD OR SOMETHING)
Let me set the scene for you… It’s about 2am. I’m in bed and David is in the living room on the couch watching some TV.
I’m awoken out of a dead sleep with an immense urge to regurgitate my entire stomachs contents all over our bedroom floor. So naturally that’s what I did. Leaned out of bed as much as a could and BARFFFFFEDDD all over the floor (and all the clothing I had left on the floor). Twice.
At first I thought I was probably dying because it was blood red and black. But then I remembered, silly girl - You had red wine and squid ink pasta!
I naked shuffled down the hall and poked my head into the living room to mumble at David, “I just barfed everywhere”. Later I found out he was so out of it he didn’t even hear me and had no idea until the next morning what had happened.
I grabbed a fluffy red towel, shuffled back into the bedroom - scooped up all the barf and barfy clothes like a swaddled little baby and swiftly deposited the contents in our bathtub, drew the curtains, rinsed my mouth with water and went back to bed.
Again…. Not my finest moment.
Somewhere around 7am I wake up and realize David has left for another meeting with the Chinese and that last night’s “festivities” ended up all over our new upholstered bed and our more-expensive-than-a-black-market-kidney-from-Mexico Frette sheets. This is why we can’t have nice things. I am why we can’t have nice things.

What’s a girl to do? Give up? Buy new sheets and a bed? I’ll be damned if I let barf beat me! I want kids and i’ve heard they do a lot of shitting and barfing, so this was my opportunity to prove myself.
I pulled on some jeans that managed to stay out of the barf spray zone, threw on a tee and a pair of shades and slowly waddeled out into the city. Half way to Bed Bath and Beyond I realized I was still slightly drunk - but that wasn’t going to stop me!
$50 later I had acquired OxyClean, white towels and a new scale (I did Weight Watchers hard core all week and wanted to weigh myself but the 3rd digit on our scale was broken and not showing, which was entirely unhelpful)
Anyways, I return from BBB and commerce with a dexter style “clean up” procedure. I Ocyclean the sheets and wash them. I spend at least 2 hours dabbing and applying pressure to the bed stain with the oxy clean and rinsing it with a wet wash cloth. Then I go into the bathroom and the smell reminds me that “Oh yeah, there’s still barfy stuff in there too”. Somehow I managed to get it all over the bath mat and shower curtain. So both of those had to be washed. Then the clothing in the tub that could be saved was saved and washed. Sadly the towel did not make it.


All in all I had everything spik and span as if it had never happened by 1pm. I felt like a productive human being. I had cleaned up my mess, sobered up and got my shit together.

Just then I heard the chirp of a text message and checked my phone.
David: “Babers, I’m downstairs at Almond with the Chinese. They want you to come to brunch and then tonight they are taking us to Korea town for Korean BBQ.”
Oh sweet jesus…..
(PS Turns out I actually did an awesome job this week with eating + working out and dropped 4lbs. Which is amazing! If only Weight Watchers would pay me like they pay J Hud to endorse them. And it was all from eating right and working out - not the barf fest.)
Part 2 coming soon!




