First of all, I must thank each and every one of you for your support, emails, text messages and comments. I am truly overwhelmed, and literally brought to tears. *sniff*
This is going to make no sense, but the decision was both easy and incredibly difficult. At the same time. But I am also alternating between the two, especially now, after 3 weeks. It's so obvious we are wrong for each other! No, wait! Oh my gawd, did I really do that? Am I ok with this? Yes. Yes, I am totally ok. No, wait. etc. etc. Those of you who love the Voices in My Head have no idea what the cocophony has been like for the last month. I feel like a very, very strong woman..........but also like a murderer. I killed my dream. I killed us. But I am proud of myself for recognizing something and doing something about it, even though it made me sad and hurt someone I still care very deeply for. I have pride and shame. Mostly shame.
The thing that is really strange about this whole process (and it makes sense if you think about it) is how similar this feels to grief. I imagine it must be even worse if it's in the context of going through a divorce. That must be excruciating.
Like grief, I have good days and I have bad days. Some days I am feeling fine, and almost ready to put it all in the past and move on. Other days, I am really bummed out and wondering, "What if I just blew it?" I mean, you only get so many chances in life, right? What if I am being too picky? No two people agree on everything, so you have to have compromises, right? Do people really get married after the age of 32, or is that just what tv wants you to think? If I were to meet Mr. Perfect today, there's no way I would make it down the aisle anytime sooner than 32, let's face it. I am in a race against crow's feet, y'all. It's getting serious now. Have I officially reached old maid-dom? Are my ovaries vestigial organs at this point, and I might as well start planning my trip around the world -- solo? Because that is my Plan B: Become a World Traveller. Are all the men in my age range as confused, damaged and gun-shy as I am now? Or worse -- are all the good ones taken?
...and then there's the obvious question......
When and how do I try to re-enter the world of dating? Do I try online dating again?
*shudder* Because I am in a town where I don't really know anyone. So my dating options are pretty much nil. Ugh. No. Not yet, anyway. Maybe in a few months. I gotta get a feel for this town through the eyes of a single girl first. I don't know if it's full of jackasses who will only waste my time or if it's just a matter of separating the wheat from the chaff.
This is really all moot, anyway, as CN and I are now......roommates. Yes, we are 100% broken up. We've even had the, "Ok, are we really really broken up? Or is there a chance we might get back together?" talk. There is no touching beyond hugs, I put a robe on when I get out of the shower, etc. We are in separate bedrooms and are rarely home at the same time. So far.....so good. I don't have to cook, and he doesn't have to take me out to dinner. We each have our own couch, and if we don't want to watch the same show, one of us just goes upstairs. No harm, no foul.
I wonder if you are thinking this sounds incredibly awkward. It isn't. It's funny how comfortable it has been so far. I guess when you have dated someone for 2 years, the time to feel awkward has passed completely, no matter the circumstances. We are both pretty laid back people, and we have agreed not to bring any new significant others over until further notice. (Repeating this rule aloud just makes us snicker, because both of us go for loooooooong periods of time between relationships, so it's humorous to even think about dating a new person right now.)
At first, we talked about him moving out, but it would be difficult for me to afford this place on my own. Especially since his job pays for Internet (yay!). And he was not excited about the idea of moving again after we JUST got here. So for the time being, we are roomies. The Czarina does NOT get this and doesn't like it. I think she is worried we won't be able to move on or avoid sleeping together. I see her concern, but unfortunately, I don't make enough money to kick him out. Well, I do, but it would seriously impact my clothing budget. :) And he's saving a lot of money by staying, too. You can't live in a decent neighborhood in Savannah for under $800/month, and right now, we are each paying $500/month -- essentially a steal. And to be honest, I don't want to have any other roommate right now. CN is a really good one. Except that he doesn't seem to put his dirty dishes in the dishwasher -- a minor concern in the world of roommates.
He has told his job that he wants to be put on what is called "detail". This means he would travel a LOT all around the state, to different towns to do his work. If he gets put on detail, he will be gone periodically for as long as a month at a time. Obviously, this would be good for both of us. He's still waiting to hear back from them.
For the first time in my life, I wish I had a PR assistant. Someone to break the news to family and friends, field any questions, deal with the backlash, put out a press release for me. Because explaining it is one of the worst parts about this process. I dread it. And it's big news, too. I can't just do a facebook update. I have to email or call all the important people in my life. Individually. It took me about a week just to tell you guys, and I don't even know most of you! I try to get other people to spread the word for me so I don't have to repeat my sad story over and over and over. I elected one trusted coworker to put the news out to everyone at work. I even managed to change my facebook status secretly, so there was no horrible broken heart icon in everyone's news feed. (Whew!)
Then again, part of me feels like this is what I get for what I did. The punishment for my crime. Like Sisyphus, I am doomed to repeat my story over and over and over forever. Endless questions. Endless pity. Every time I tell it, I get more and more bummed out. Luckily, it comes and goes in waves. And work is REALLY busy right now, so that helps a lot.
I have gotten a mixed bag of reactions to the news, from shock to confusion to relief to pity -- and everything inbetween. What has been surprising to me is how invested some of our friends were in "us". A couple of them are having a hard time coming to terms that we broke up. For real. And no, we are not getting back together. I've been really surprised at how many family members were relieved to hear the news. They could tell we weren't a good fit. But they kept their mouths shut. I do not blame them. Telling someone they are with the wrong person is very difficult.
I am worried about the long term effects of this living situation. I have a friend who is in a similar situation. She's been in it for about 6 months now, and they are waiting for the house to sell before they can part ways. Ugh. I feel for her. Anyway, she said to me the other day that she's thinking about getting back together with him. I am worried that as time passes, I may start thinking like that, and fall back to where we were, and end up dragging things out or making a mistake...ugh. So I am a little concerned about my future and my ability to stay strong for a long period of time (we all have our needs -- *ahem*) and still move on despite the fact that I am living with an ex-fiance.
But I have to say that we are both being respectful, mature and flexible. So I'm kind of proud of us. Most people would turn this into a vindictive, painful and petty living situation. We are not.
I don't think he would admit it, even to himself, but I think he feels some relief, too. The pressure to be someone he's not is all gone. He doesn't have to try and understand me or my needs anymore. I think he may be starting to see how this is a good thing. Or maybe I just tell myself that to alleviate some of the mountains of guilt I am experiencing.
More than anything, though, I feel really really alone and lost. For the first time in my life. For two years, I have been a part of something. And now it's gone. Who am I? Why did I put myself in this situation? Am I pushing people away? How do I get in touch with myself again, when so much of my identity is wrapped up with him? What's next?
I guess today is one of those bad days.
Showing posts with label the Voices in my head. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the Voices in my head. Show all posts
Friday, October 02, 2009
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Ring in the New Year?
Update: CN's job transfer to Savannah isn't finalized, but his boss said it looks "promising", whatever that means. He and I did some number crunching, and it really just makes so much financial sense for us to go ahead and shack up, dammit. We both have mortgages and we may not get renters for a few months. There's no way I could afford rent AND a mortgage on my own. (I am not getting that big of a raise!) Besides, we all know how bad I am with money. *ahem* So I am going to have to suck it up and hope that CN will eventually buy the cow, instead of only enjoying the free milk, if you get my drift.
And I am not 100% comfortable with it. I know what you are saying/thinking: "I did it with my man, and now we're married! Don't worry!" or "It's no big deal. He loves you. You will totally get married, so just chill and go with the flow." or "You never really know someone until you live with them. This will give you insight into your marriage!" or "Marriage, schmarriage! You need the 2nd income! Be glad you're on such good terms with your future roommate!"
Which are all valid comments. But I worry. What if one year of living together turns into three...five...eight...and I turn into Little Miss Where Is My Ring??? I don't want to be that girl. With the bitching and the nagging and the ultimatums. But I will eventually get there, I know it. I already have days where I want to scream at him, "What are you waiting for???!!!!" And I always joke that I am free on Saturday afternoon if he wants to run down to the courthouse.
Also, what if we break up? (Ok, at this point, it's extremely unlikely-- laughable, actually -- but still. It could happen!) Then I am stuck with a 12-month lease on my own. Ouch.
My point is, I want some security. Preferrably in the form of a large gemstone on that all-important finger. I want him to put his money where his mouth is. I have been trying to stay calm and trust that he will do it one day like he says he will. I have made him promise that it will be before my ovaries shrivel and before my boobs are down to my knees. But that's about as much as I have said. Deep down inside, I am scared of being left high and dry or turning into a shrill bitch.
And living with a man is something I always imagined doing after I got married. I guess I'm just old-fashioned. CN thinks shacking up is a no-brainer and he's not getting why I'm freaking out about it. I tell him it's because he doesn't have a uterus. Which puts a puzzled expression on his face.
When CN asked me a few weeks ago, "Could we live together if we got engaged? Or does it have to be marriage?" I didn't really know what to say. I hadn't thought about that option. But that's a decent amount of commitment. I know, in the logical part of my brain, that he's not going anywhere. He's in it for the long haul. But that lobe in my brain, the one in charge of "What if?", is buzzing with paranoia, and I can't shut it up. Triggered by his question, that worrysome lobe began quivering, and I almost blurted out, "No! Marry me, you commitment-phobe! What the hell?! We are perfect together! Stop stalling!"
But then I remembered: moving to Savannah was my idea. Not his. And he's totally down for going, no questions asked. Moving farther away from his family. Selling or renting his house. All the personal, financial and material upheaval that comes with living in a new place. He's down for it. Because he knows it's what I want and that it will make me happy. (It will make him happy, too, don't get me wrong -- he wanted to move there, too. In like 3 years. Not 3 months. LOL)
So I said, "Yes. We can live together if we are engaged."
And then I let it drop. I didn't push it anymore. In fact, with all the talking about moving, I kind of put it in the back of my head and decided that I would worry about that later. If we got engaged first, great, if not, oh well. In other words, I was totally caving on the issue. (Shhh! Don't tell him that.)
So imagine my surprise when last night, as I was cleaning up after our dinner of bean and cheese quesadillas. CN grabbed my hands and said, "Are you ok with living with me?"
And again, I didn't really know what to say. I was....mostly. I said, "Well, I mean, yeah. But it's not really the way I had planned it. But I don't see how else I can afford it. It just doesn't make sense for us to both move there and not live together."
"Would you feel better about it if I got you a ring?" he asked.
Well, duh.
"YES!" I shouted.
"Ok, well, we can go ring shopping. Email me some photos of what you like tomorrow when you get to work." [Note: At last count, I emailed 8.]
"Can we do that this weekend?" I asked, jumping up and down.
"I thought we were going to drive down to Savannah and look at apartments," he replied.
I reminded him that we don't even know what our budget is yet, and that we might as well just stay here and go ring shopping. He agreed.
WOO HOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And I am not 100% comfortable with it. I know what you are saying/thinking: "I did it with my man, and now we're married! Don't worry!" or "It's no big deal. He loves you. You will totally get married, so just chill and go with the flow." or "You never really know someone until you live with them. This will give you insight into your marriage!" or "Marriage, schmarriage! You need the 2nd income! Be glad you're on such good terms with your future roommate!"
Which are all valid comments. But I worry. What if one year of living together turns into three...five...eight...and I turn into Little Miss Where Is My Ring??? I don't want to be that girl. With the bitching and the nagging and the ultimatums. But I will eventually get there, I know it. I already have days where I want to scream at him, "What are you waiting for???!!!!" And I always joke that I am free on Saturday afternoon if he wants to run down to the courthouse.
Also, what if we break up? (Ok, at this point, it's extremely unlikely-- laughable, actually -- but still. It could happen!) Then I am stuck with a 12-month lease on my own. Ouch.
My point is, I want some security. Preferrably in the form of a large gemstone on that all-important finger. I want him to put his money where his mouth is. I have been trying to stay calm and trust that he will do it one day like he says he will. I have made him promise that it will be before my ovaries shrivel and before my boobs are down to my knees. But that's about as much as I have said. Deep down inside, I am scared of being left high and dry or turning into a shrill bitch.
And living with a man is something I always imagined doing after I got married. I guess I'm just old-fashioned. CN thinks shacking up is a no-brainer and he's not getting why I'm freaking out about it. I tell him it's because he doesn't have a uterus. Which puts a puzzled expression on his face.
When CN asked me a few weeks ago, "Could we live together if we got engaged? Or does it have to be marriage?" I didn't really know what to say. I hadn't thought about that option. But that's a decent amount of commitment. I know, in the logical part of my brain, that he's not going anywhere. He's in it for the long haul. But that lobe in my brain, the one in charge of "What if?", is buzzing with paranoia, and I can't shut it up. Triggered by his question, that worrysome lobe began quivering, and I almost blurted out, "No! Marry me, you commitment-phobe! What the hell?! We are perfect together! Stop stalling!"
But then I remembered: moving to Savannah was my idea. Not his. And he's totally down for going, no questions asked. Moving farther away from his family. Selling or renting his house. All the personal, financial and material upheaval that comes with living in a new place. He's down for it. Because he knows it's what I want and that it will make me happy. (It will make him happy, too, don't get me wrong -- he wanted to move there, too. In like 3 years. Not 3 months. LOL)
So I said, "Yes. We can live together if we are engaged."
And then I let it drop. I didn't push it anymore. In fact, with all the talking about moving, I kind of put it in the back of my head and decided that I would worry about that later. If we got engaged first, great, if not, oh well. In other words, I was totally caving on the issue. (Shhh! Don't tell him that.)
So imagine my surprise when last night, as I was cleaning up after our dinner of bean and cheese quesadillas. CN grabbed my hands and said, "Are you ok with living with me?"
And again, I didn't really know what to say. I was....mostly. I said, "Well, I mean, yeah. But it's not really the way I had planned it. But I don't see how else I can afford it. It just doesn't make sense for us to both move there and not live together."
"Would you feel better about it if I got you a ring?" he asked.
Well, duh.
"YES!" I shouted.
"Ok, well, we can go ring shopping. Email me some photos of what you like tomorrow when you get to work." [Note: At last count, I emailed 8.]
"Can we do that this weekend?" I asked, jumping up and down.
"I thought we were going to drive down to Savannah and look at apartments," he replied.
I reminded him that we don't even know what our budget is yet, and that we might as well just stay here and go ring shopping. He agreed.
WOO HOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Monday, June 09, 2008
Faux Pas Over Faux Pearls
I was working at Dildo's the other night. So far, so good. I'm still getting used to my crammed schedule, but my coworkers are nice and the work is pretty fun. Until I can "prove" myself as a salesgirl, I am currently working in the accessories department, awaiting permission to move over to the Clinique counter.
Nevermind that I already have 2 1/2 years of Clinique experience, working at the Dildo's across town. There's some new rule for everyone -- you have to go to a "regular" area and play Good Little Employee before you can go to a "specialized" area. Whatever. So for the time being, I help women shop for purses, jewelry, scarves, wallets, watches, sunglasses and hats.
Which isn't half bad, considering I love to shop for those things. So I get to shop vicariously through these women -- which is great for my bank account. I get all the fun of shopping and none of the buyer's remorse. It might not be the end of the world if they never move me to cosmetics, actually.
The other night, I was helping an older lady find a necklace to match her shirt. After some searching, we found the perfect one. I was ringing her up and chatting with her, when she said,
"Can I ask, are you expecting?"
She put this weird emphasis on "expecting". Almost like she was saying, "Why the hell aren't you announcing this to the world? Why are you hiding this fact, you modest young thing? Don't you know this is the greatest thing that could ever possibly happen to you in your entire life? You should be shouting it from the hilltops, like Maria Von Trapp."
Needless to say, I was stunned speechless. For once. You could almost hear the needle on the record player being ripped off. I froze.
This is not happening. I am not being mistaken for a pregnant woman. I am not that fat.
I am not.
I am not.
I am not.
FUCK. Am I?
*several blinks on my behalf*
*several blinks on her behalf*
We sat there, blinking at each other, while she grimaced and awkwardly gathered up her things to leave, and I smoothed my shirt down, subconsciously ensuring that no pillow had magically appeared under my top. What. The. Fuck.
Well, of course, you know what happened next: The Voices all woke up and turned their heads in unison to look at this old lady. And then, they all had to get their two cents in.
"Oh, no she di-dant!!!" yelled Bitch Mode, complete with index-finger-waving hand gestures.
"You should ask her if she's senile! That'll shut her up!" said Sarcastic.
"Well, I've been telling you for months that you have to do something about this weight you've been putting on. What do you expect?" sniped Inner Mom Voice.
"Oh my gawd!! You're a COW!!!" shrieks Hormonal. She runs away to sob into her hands. Hormonal is such a drama queen.
"Well, the way you an CN have been acting lately, who knows? Maybe you are!" giggles Pervert.
Horny is in stitches. The two of them make randy hand gestures and proceed to take turns cracking each other up with their obscene double entendres. The peanut gallery is in full swing. Great.
I roll my eyes.
"You really picked out a great necklace for her. Very stylish. I think The Czarina would like it, too. Let's go see if there's another one," observed Space Cadet, who proceeded to wander off.
Good Point chimed in: "Dude, everyone and their mother knows that is something you NEVER ask, unless you are 200% positive the woman is pregnant. And THIS is why that rule exists! She just made a HUGE social faux pas!!"
"Hmmm...I wonder if there are earrings that match....." mused Space Cadet. "You could make a set...."
"What was that??? Pregnant? Who said that? Who said the 'P' word? OMG! We have to get to a drugstore NOW, people!!" said Panic, heartbeat racing.
Good Point calmed Panic down and then added, "Look, I bet she feels worse than you do, running all over town with a big, fat mouth like that. Assuming things about people. She has her foot in her mouth right now. She was embarrassed, you know you could tell."
"But baby-doll tops are IN right now!!!" protested Single Girl.
"Yeah! There's nothing wrong with ruffles and empire waist tops! They're feminine!" agreed Prisspot.
"Yeah, but in the past, tops like that have been reserved strictly for expectant mothers," explained Overly Analytical. "There's a generational gap at play, here. Your fashion taste, while good, is confusing to the elderly."
"Well, if that's the case, there should be Public Service Announcements about this issue," Nerd said. "The public needs to be aware. Maybe we could call our Congressmen..."
"Maybe she just thought you would be a really good mom, and she was hoping you were!" Stupidly Optimistic gushed. "Or maybe she had you confused with the other lady in this department who IS pregnant!"
Sarcastic and Cynical gave her a look. She shut up.
"Oh, this is just great. For the last three months, ever since you started buying those tops, you have been running around town, causing people to think 'Aw, she's having a baby! Isn't that wonderful?' I mean, who knows how many people have thinking that!" lectured Pessimistically Paranoid, pacing in a circle.
Oh Jeez. What if the next time someone made this mistake, they do it in front of CN??? Oh, the mortification!!! I pondered the thought of chucking all my new tops in the trash, as soon as I got home that night. Cheapskate vetoed this idea. Single Girl backed her up, as did Prisspot. Damn. What am I going to do about these shirts? Buy a bunch of belts??
I was jolted out of my thoughts by Pessimistically Paranoid's ranting.
"I mean, if you look pregnant now, what are you going to look like when you really ARE pregnant?" she lamented.
"Babies are nice..." Space Cadet said to herself absentmindedly, as she looked at a rack of earrings.
Bitch Mode and Hormonal were whispering to each other and picking up the phone.
"Hey, what are you doing?" asked Pessimistically Paranoid.
"Duh. We're calling security to tell them that there's an old lady who just stole a necklace here in the store," they replied, snickering.
Cynical snorted. "That'll teach her!" she laughed.
Luckily, Bitch Mode and Hormonal were stopped from carrying out their plan by Logical. Sometimes, I think she's the only adult Voice.
Confident was no where to be found. I learned later that she was busy, lobbying for more gym time and fresh veggies in the fridge. And for once, I think most of the Voices listened to her. Even Hormonal, who tried really hard to cry on the way home, but just couldn't. Fashion choices aside, perhaps this was a wake-up call.
"Gah, you are now officially fat enough to be confused with a pregnant woman!!" cried Hormonal.
"Or maybe it's just because you have huge tits, just like most pregnant women do!" said Pervert.
"Or maybe she's just a rude, ignorant old bag," chimed Good Point.
Good point, indeed. Pass the brownies, will ya?
Nevermind that I already have 2 1/2 years of Clinique experience, working at the Dildo's across town. There's some new rule for everyone -- you have to go to a "regular" area and play Good Little Employee before you can go to a "specialized" area. Whatever. So for the time being, I help women shop for purses, jewelry, scarves, wallets, watches, sunglasses and hats.
Which isn't half bad, considering I love to shop for those things. So I get to shop vicariously through these women -- which is great for my bank account. I get all the fun of shopping and none of the buyer's remorse. It might not be the end of the world if they never move me to cosmetics, actually.
The other night, I was helping an older lady find a necklace to match her shirt. After some searching, we found the perfect one. I was ringing her up and chatting with her, when she said,
"Can I ask, are you expecting?"
She put this weird emphasis on "expecting". Almost like she was saying, "Why the hell aren't you announcing this to the world? Why are you hiding this fact, you modest young thing? Don't you know this is the greatest thing that could ever possibly happen to you in your entire life? You should be shouting it from the hilltops, like Maria Von Trapp."
Needless to say, I was stunned speechless. For once. You could almost hear the needle on the record player being ripped off. I froze.
This is not happening. I am not being mistaken for a pregnant woman. I am not that fat.
I am not.
I am not.
I am not.
FUCK. Am I?
*several blinks on my behalf*
*several blinks on her behalf*
We sat there, blinking at each other, while she grimaced and awkwardly gathered up her things to leave, and I smoothed my shirt down, subconsciously ensuring that no pillow had magically appeared under my top. What. The. Fuck.
Well, of course, you know what happened next: The Voices all woke up and turned their heads in unison to look at this old lady. And then, they all had to get their two cents in.
"Oh, no she di-dant!!!" yelled Bitch Mode, complete with index-finger-waving hand gestures.
"You should ask her if she's senile! That'll shut her up!" said Sarcastic.
"Well, I've been telling you for months that you have to do something about this weight you've been putting on. What do you expect?" sniped Inner Mom Voice.
"Oh my gawd!! You're a COW!!!" shrieks Hormonal. She runs away to sob into her hands. Hormonal is such a drama queen.
"Well, the way you an CN have been acting lately, who knows? Maybe you are!" giggles Pervert.
Horny is in stitches. The two of them make randy hand gestures and proceed to take turns cracking each other up with their obscene double entendres. The peanut gallery is in full swing. Great.
I roll my eyes.
"You really picked out a great necklace for her. Very stylish. I think The Czarina would like it, too. Let's go see if there's another one," observed Space Cadet, who proceeded to wander off.
Good Point chimed in: "Dude, everyone and their mother knows that is something you NEVER ask, unless you are 200% positive the woman is pregnant. And THIS is why that rule exists! She just made a HUGE social faux pas!!"
"Hmmm...I wonder if there are earrings that match....." mused Space Cadet. "You could make a set...."
"What was that??? Pregnant? Who said that? Who said the 'P' word? OMG! We have to get to a drugstore NOW, people!!" said Panic, heartbeat racing.
Good Point calmed Panic down and then added, "Look, I bet she feels worse than you do, running all over town with a big, fat mouth like that. Assuming things about people. She has her foot in her mouth right now. She was embarrassed, you know you could tell."
"But baby-doll tops are IN right now!!!" protested Single Girl.
"Yeah! There's nothing wrong with ruffles and empire waist tops! They're feminine!" agreed Prisspot.
"Yeah, but in the past, tops like that have been reserved strictly for expectant mothers," explained Overly Analytical. "There's a generational gap at play, here. Your fashion taste, while good, is confusing to the elderly."
"Well, if that's the case, there should be Public Service Announcements about this issue," Nerd said. "The public needs to be aware. Maybe we could call our Congressmen..."
"Maybe she just thought you would be a really good mom, and she was hoping you were!" Stupidly Optimistic gushed. "Or maybe she had you confused with the other lady in this department who IS pregnant!"
Sarcastic and Cynical gave her a look. She shut up.
"Oh, this is just great. For the last three months, ever since you started buying those tops, you have been running around town, causing people to think 'Aw, she's having a baby! Isn't that wonderful?' I mean, who knows how many people have thinking that!" lectured Pessimistically Paranoid, pacing in a circle.
Oh Jeez. What if the next time someone made this mistake, they do it in front of CN??? Oh, the mortification!!! I pondered the thought of chucking all my new tops in the trash, as soon as I got home that night. Cheapskate vetoed this idea. Single Girl backed her up, as did Prisspot. Damn. What am I going to do about these shirts? Buy a bunch of belts??
I was jolted out of my thoughts by Pessimistically Paranoid's ranting.
"I mean, if you look pregnant now, what are you going to look like when you really ARE pregnant?" she lamented.
"Babies are nice..." Space Cadet said to herself absentmindedly, as she looked at a rack of earrings.
Bitch Mode and Hormonal were whispering to each other and picking up the phone.
"Hey, what are you doing?" asked Pessimistically Paranoid.
"Duh. We're calling security to tell them that there's an old lady who just stole a necklace here in the store," they replied, snickering.
Cynical snorted. "That'll teach her!" she laughed.
Luckily, Bitch Mode and Hormonal were stopped from carrying out their plan by Logical. Sometimes, I think she's the only adult Voice.
Confident was no where to be found. I learned later that she was busy, lobbying for more gym time and fresh veggies in the fridge. And for once, I think most of the Voices listened to her. Even Hormonal, who tried really hard to cry on the way home, but just couldn't. Fashion choices aside, perhaps this was a wake-up call.
"Gah, you are now officially fat enough to be confused with a pregnant woman!!" cried Hormonal.
"Or maybe it's just because you have huge tits, just like most pregnant women do!" said Pervert.
"Or maybe she's just a rude, ignorant old bag," chimed Good Point.
Good point, indeed. Pass the brownies, will ya?
Friday, May 16, 2008
Nightmare
Last night, I had what was one of the worst dreams of my life. I've had dreams where my parents die or where my dad was cheating on my mom. I've had dreams where my friends and family are upset, or that someone is harassing me. But last night, my dream played out more like a horror movie than a personal drama. It really freaked me out!!
MJ and I were trying to get to Philly to meet up with The Rat Pack. (This is the same group of 4 guys we hung out with on last year's NYC/Vermont trip. And we are trying to plan a trip to Philly next month, since two of The Rat Pack members live in Philly. So I'm assuming this is what my subconscious was thinking about when I had this dream.)
In the dream, for some reason, MJ and I didn't have access to our credit cards. We were stuck with just whatever cash we had on us. And it made more financial sense for us to take a Greyhound bus to Philly, rather than drive in MJ's car. So we got on the bus, where we were joined by KT and a couple members of The Rat Pack. (This makes no sense, because MJ and I are the only ones who do not live in New England, but what do you expect? This is a dream, after all.)
By the time the bus stops, we are exhausted. I don't know where we are, but it is a city of some kind. We don't go to a hotel. Instead, we go to a boarding house because it was cheaper. (Do boarding houses even exist anymore??) It may have been a hostel....I can't remember. We are still limited to whatever cash we have, at this point, so I think we were looking for somewhere to crash so we could figure out how to get to Philly the next day.
This hostel/boarding house was an old, early 20th century home. It was a late Victorian style, so it had a big front porch, huge front staircase, wide hallways, tall ceilings, big windows and large rooms. The boarding house was owned and operated by an elderly couple who creeped me out. Of course, even more disturbing, no one else thought they were creepy.
So we are all so broke that we can only afford to rent one very large bedroom upstairs. There are at least 5 of us. We take our suitcases up the big, main staircase to go find our room. I notice that the wallpaper in the house looks to be original, because it is water-damaged, faded and peeling. In fact, everything in the house looked original, from the carpet to the furniture to the doorknobs. Everything was a sort of beige or rose color. With dark wood paneling. It was kind of creepy. And quiet. Very, very quiet.
At the top of the staircase, there is a big hallway. Our room is at the end of the hall. Here's the really creepy part: on the floor of the hallway, in front of each closed bedroom door, there was a baby doll head. Each one had a different facial expression, and they all faced the door nearest to them. Some dolls were smiling, others were angry or terrified. They were all creepy. I mean, someone had obviously ripped the heads off of baby dolls and set them down like this in the hallway! And who's ever heard of a baby doll with angry or scared facial expressions???! I told my friends this place was creepy and I didn't want to stay. They thought I was nuts.
Again, I am the only person who seemed to have a problem with the creepiness. Great.
Our room had several beds, and everyone was so tired that they went to bed immediately. They didn't brush their teeth or even get into pajamas. They just crashed. Meanwhile, I cannot sleep for shit because I'm still thinking about the creepy baby heads in the hallway.
To make it even spookier, we are the only tenants in the place. It's eerily quiet and empty. Just us and the baby doll heads.
When we paid for our room, I had noticed there was a sign by the desk saying that meals were served at certain times. So I decided that I would go back down to the desk to see if it was time to eat yet. I couldn't bear to be near those baby heads anymore. I woke up my friend to tell him where I was going, tip-toed down the hallway, trying not to touch the baby doll heads (which moved on their own to turn and look at me with their varying facial expressions as I passed by!!!).
I made my way to the front desk downstairs, and asked if dinner was served yet. The wife told me that there was still an hour before it would be served. So I decided to make my way back upstairs to try and get my friends to leave this creepy place.
Then, something-- I can't remember what, maybe it was a little voice in my head-- tells me what is going on: the husband and wife who run the place are actually serial killers who are trying to make us their next victims!!!! I am totally freaked out by this realization, obviously. Then the little voice in my head tells me that depending on the expression of your room's baby doll head, you will know if the elderly couple likes you enough to let you live.
Yeah. At this point, even my dream self is like, "Dude, this is f**ked up. Get the hell outta here!!"
So now I need to know which expression our room's baby doll head has. I am back upstairs, walking slowly down the hallway. I know which rooms have dead bodies in them, because the baby doll heads have angry or scared looks on their faces. And of course, the baby doll heads are watching me again. Which is just freaking fantastic.
Sure enough, our room now has its own baby doll head. It had appeared while I had been downstairs!!! I didn't look at its expression -- at this point, I didn't care. We were all checking out right now, no questions asked. I wake everyone up and freak them out enough (I believe I was crying and screaming) to convince them that we need to leave -- NOW. I think they only agreed so that I would shut up and they could finally get some sleep!
We pack up all our stuff and head back down the main staircase. As we are waiting at the bottom of the stairs to check out (why we are taking the time to do this, I don't know), the old man flies down the stairs, holding a knife (or maybe it was a gun?) , trying to stop us from leaving, even if it means he has to kill us!!! We all scream and try to escape. The next thing I know, a large piece of wood falls off of the upstairs banister and impales the old man before he can hurt us! WHAM! It goes right through his torso, killing him instantly.
We must have either ignored or fought off the old lady, because I remember she was protesting our escape, too. We ran out of the house and down the street. That's when I realized we had been in Philly the whole time.
Ugh. No more Jersey Mike's before bedtime.
MJ and I were trying to get to Philly to meet up with The Rat Pack. (This is the same group of 4 guys we hung out with on last year's NYC/Vermont trip. And we are trying to plan a trip to Philly next month, since two of The Rat Pack members live in Philly. So I'm assuming this is what my subconscious was thinking about when I had this dream.)
In the dream, for some reason, MJ and I didn't have access to our credit cards. We were stuck with just whatever cash we had on us. And it made more financial sense for us to take a Greyhound bus to Philly, rather than drive in MJ's car. So we got on the bus, where we were joined by KT and a couple members of The Rat Pack. (This makes no sense, because MJ and I are the only ones who do not live in New England, but what do you expect? This is a dream, after all.)
By the time the bus stops, we are exhausted. I don't know where we are, but it is a city of some kind. We don't go to a hotel. Instead, we go to a boarding house because it was cheaper. (Do boarding houses even exist anymore??) It may have been a hostel....I can't remember. We are still limited to whatever cash we have, at this point, so I think we were looking for somewhere to crash so we could figure out how to get to Philly the next day.
This hostel/boarding house was an old, early 20th century home. It was a late Victorian style, so it had a big front porch, huge front staircase, wide hallways, tall ceilings, big windows and large rooms. The boarding house was owned and operated by an elderly couple who creeped me out. Of course, even more disturbing, no one else thought they were creepy.
So we are all so broke that we can only afford to rent one very large bedroom upstairs. There are at least 5 of us. We take our suitcases up the big, main staircase to go find our room. I notice that the wallpaper in the house looks to be original, because it is water-damaged, faded and peeling. In fact, everything in the house looked original, from the carpet to the furniture to the doorknobs. Everything was a sort of beige or rose color. With dark wood paneling. It was kind of creepy. And quiet. Very, very quiet.
At the top of the staircase, there is a big hallway. Our room is at the end of the hall. Here's the really creepy part: on the floor of the hallway, in front of each closed bedroom door, there was a baby doll head. Each one had a different facial expression, and they all faced the door nearest to them. Some dolls were smiling, others were angry or terrified. They were all creepy. I mean, someone had obviously ripped the heads off of baby dolls and set them down like this in the hallway! And who's ever heard of a baby doll with angry or scared facial expressions???! I told my friends this place was creepy and I didn't want to stay. They thought I was nuts.
Again, I am the only person who seemed to have a problem with the creepiness. Great.
Our room had several beds, and everyone was so tired that they went to bed immediately. They didn't brush their teeth or even get into pajamas. They just crashed. Meanwhile, I cannot sleep for shit because I'm still thinking about the creepy baby heads in the hallway.
To make it even spookier, we are the only tenants in the place. It's eerily quiet and empty. Just us and the baby doll heads.
When we paid for our room, I had noticed there was a sign by the desk saying that meals were served at certain times. So I decided that I would go back down to the desk to see if it was time to eat yet. I couldn't bear to be near those baby heads anymore. I woke up my friend to tell him where I was going, tip-toed down the hallway, trying not to touch the baby doll heads (which moved on their own to turn and look at me with their varying facial expressions as I passed by!!!).
I made my way to the front desk downstairs, and asked if dinner was served yet. The wife told me that there was still an hour before it would be served. So I decided to make my way back upstairs to try and get my friends to leave this creepy place.
Then, something-- I can't remember what, maybe it was a little voice in my head-- tells me what is going on: the husband and wife who run the place are actually serial killers who are trying to make us their next victims!!!! I am totally freaked out by this realization, obviously. Then the little voice in my head tells me that depending on the expression of your room's baby doll head, you will know if the elderly couple likes you enough to let you live.
Yeah. At this point, even my dream self is like, "Dude, this is f**ked up. Get the hell outta here!!"
So now I need to know which expression our room's baby doll head has. I am back upstairs, walking slowly down the hallway. I know which rooms have dead bodies in them, because the baby doll heads have angry or scared looks on their faces. And of course, the baby doll heads are watching me again. Which is just freaking fantastic.
Sure enough, our room now has its own baby doll head. It had appeared while I had been downstairs!!! I didn't look at its expression -- at this point, I didn't care. We were all checking out right now, no questions asked. I wake everyone up and freak them out enough (I believe I was crying and screaming) to convince them that we need to leave -- NOW. I think they only agreed so that I would shut up and they could finally get some sleep!
We pack up all our stuff and head back down the main staircase. As we are waiting at the bottom of the stairs to check out (why we are taking the time to do this, I don't know), the old man flies down the stairs, holding a knife (or maybe it was a gun?) , trying to stop us from leaving, even if it means he has to kill us!!! We all scream and try to escape. The next thing I know, a large piece of wood falls off of the upstairs banister and impales the old man before he can hurt us! WHAM! It goes right through his torso, killing him instantly.
We must have either ignored or fought off the old lady, because I remember she was protesting our escape, too. We ran out of the house and down the street. That's when I realized we had been in Philly the whole time.
Ugh. No more Jersey Mike's before bedtime.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
CN and the Doctors
On Saturday afternoon, I made strawberry shortcake for CN. He loved it.
But after he ate, he said he didn't feel well. After some jokes about how I am poisoning him and/or not washing the strawberries, he decided to lie down. I joined him, because I didn't feel well either (little did I know, I was hours away from getting a migraine, and this was my body trying to warn me). Besides, my calves were killing me, thanks to my trainer's brilliant idea that I do 150 calf raises AND 30 pound lifts (45 times) on the calf weight machine at the gym. I would spend the weekend trying to stretch out my calves, only to end up hobbling around on my tippy toes, like some geriatric Barbie doll.
After our nap, I felt a little better, but CN felt worse -- much worse. He had nausea, dizziness, bloating, lower back pain, chills and....let's just say that "things" weren't "moving along". So I spent the evening taking care of him. I felt helpless, because nothing I did seemed to make him feel much better. I tried to stay up late with him -- he was in so much pain that he couldn't sleep -- but I konked out around 11pm. "Wake me up if you need anything," I said drowsily. I suck at being a night owl.
This pattern went on through Saturday night, all day Sunday and all day Monday. CN would eat, feel terrible, lie down, writhe in pain all night, then wake up feeling slightly better in the morning. And he had to go to extreme measures to get things "going", if you know what I mean.
To make things even worse, I woke up with a mild migraine on Sunday, so I was feeling pretty miserable, too. Thanks to a lot of caffeine, I managed to keep most of the pain at bay. So we went to Wal-Mart. But that was it! By the time we left, both of us were feeling worse. We laid around in bed for the rest of the day, feeling like crap!
"Wow, we are one exciting couple," he said.
On Monday morning, CN went to go see Dr. Quack. I call him Dr. Quack because when CN went to him last year, complaining of um....something really gross that can be a sign of something REALLY bad, he told CN to "just cut back on alcohol".
WTF?? A young, otherwise healthy man comes to you, complaining of unexplained bleeding, and you tell him to cut back on beer??! ARG!
"I really wish you wouldn't go see him again," I said. "He's a quack!"
"Well, I already made the appointment," he replied.
CN comes back from the doctor and calls me at work. "Ok, Dr. Quack says I have a kidney infection."
"But you have been complaining about gastro-intestinal issues," I replied, confused.
"Yeah, I know. But he tested my pee, and it came back infected. So I'm on antibiotics."
I remembered his lower back pain -- it must have been in his kidneys. That kind of made sense. I asked him if Dr. Quack said anything else about his other symptoms.
"Yeah, I told him about the dizziness, and he said I probably have congested sinuses, so he told me to go buy some Mucinex," CN replied.
"Do you have congestion?" I asked.
"No," CN answered. "But I bought some anyway. Just took the first dose."
Who the hell is this doctor?? I thought to myself. And why is my normally intelligent boyfriend just accepting everything he is saying as gospel?? Doesn't he see that this doc is a moron?? Apparently, I am going to have to just do all this for CN, because he cannot be trusted to be in charge of his own health. This is so ridiculous.
That's when I recognized this particular Voice in My Head: It was the worst voice of all. It was the voice of The Czarina. I was turning into my mother before my very eyes. As terrifying as it was, I couldn't stop it. It was like a ventriloquist had taken over my body. I was the dummy on her lap, saying whatever she would say.
"Ok, well, I will come check on you when I get home today," I replied. [Czarina Voice Translation: When I come over today after work, I am going to make you go see a real doctor who gives logical answers, because I am pretty sure this doctor got his MD from the back of a cereal box.]
By the time I got home, he was feeling a lot better, but he hadn't really eaten anything that day, so we went to grab some BBQ. As soon as he finished eating, he felt terrible again. Seeing the pattern of eating --> illness, I tell him I really think he should go to see a gastroenterologist. I was worried he might have IBS, diverticulitis or an intestinal blockage -- or worse.
We go home, and he's now really uncomfortable and lying on the couch. "We might need to go to the emergency room," he said. I explained (ok, Czarina's Voice explained) to him that if we go to the emergency room, they will put him at the bottom of the list because he's not bleeding to death and he doesn't have any heart/lung issues. Then, once they get around to seeing us at 4am, they will probably tell us to pop some vicodin and call your regular doctor in the morning.
He agreed and decided to stay put for the time being. He took some tylenol for the pain. To make him feel better, I stayed at his house in case he needed anything.
He felt ok yesterday morning -- not great, but ok. I went to work and came to check on him at lunch. It was time to visit a REAL doctor. One who didn't prescribe medicines for non-existent symptoms.
"But I've already been to the doctor," he whined.
"My coworkers recommend Dr. B," I said, ignoring him. He was going to the doctor whether he liked it or not. [Czarina was in full swing now.]
"Shouldn't we wait until the antibiotics really kick in? I mean, I'm fine! This is no big deal!" he said.
That's when I lost it. I gave CN a tear-filled lecture about how worried I was and how he's got to go to the doctor, if only so that I can stop worrying. I listed off all the reasons I wasn't happy with Dr. Quack and told him a bunch of scary stories I had heard about unresolved gastro-intestinal issues. After about 20 minutes of nagging, lecturing, guilt-tripping and begging, he finally caved in and agreed to call.
Dr. B couldn't see him for 2 days.
"Ok, yeah, Friday is ok, then," CN said into the phone.
"No, it's NOT!!" I hissed. "You need to see someone TODAY!!"
We called the doctor recommended to us by Dr. B's receptionist.
"Tomorrow morning at 9? Sure, that would be ok," CN said into the phone.
By this point, I was ready to grab the phone away from him and do it myself. What is it with men and doctors??!!
"Does he specialize in gastroenterology? Ask her if he specializes in gastro-intestinal issues," I asked. CN asked receptionist #2.
"No, he doesn't," CN told me. He went back to talking to receptionist #2.
"My chief complaint? Uh...I don't feel good. Just, ya know, in pain, in my back, mostly," he said.
"No!! You are having severe abdominal pain and nothing is making it better and you need to see someone TODAY!" I practically yelled. I was hovering over him by this point, like a helicopter.
CN made the appointment for the next morning at 9am. He got off the phone.
"Ok, we are calling a gastroenterologist this time," I said.
"But I just made an appointment with a family doctor for tomorrow," he said, confused.
"Yes, I realize this, but you need a gastroenterologist TODAY. Tomorrow isn't good enough. If you don't take health problems seriously, they will turn into serious health problems," I said. I gave him the number I had looked up in the phone book. He called and made an appointment for 2:30 that afternoon.
I took off the rest of the afternoon so that I could go with him.
"This really isn't necessary," CN said, as I made a list of all his symptoms and all the foods he had eaten in the past 48 hours. "I'm a big boy. I can go to the doctor by myself."
"Oh yeah? You can? What happened last time?" I asked.
"He told me I was congested. And I'm not," he mumbled.
"What else?" I asked, shrewishly. I was on a roll, now. This was Classic Czarina, spewing from my mouth. My hands may have even been on my hips.
"And I forgot to tell the doctor all of my symptoms. Or ask questions," he mumbled again.
"I'm going to the doctor's appointment with you, even if they make me sit in the waiting room the whole time." I announced, one eyebrow raised. "Besides, look at you. You're in so much pain, you can't even sit up straight. You can't drive like this."
We went to the doctor, complete with the list of symptoms I had written and all his medicines, including the over the counter stuff. They let me go into the exam room with CN.
The doctor comes in, and we tell him everything. I make CN show him the list I made.
The doctor tells us that sometimes, when someone gets any kind of infection, it can mess with your gastro-intestinal tract. So it was probably the kidney infection causing the gastro-intestinal problems. The doctor asked CN some questions, just to rule out anything serious. CN was fine. Just a little backed up, was all. (Finally! Some answers!!)
"So what's up with the Mucinex?" I asked.
The doctor turned to CN. "Are you congested?" he asked.
"No," said CN.
"Hmmm....I bet Dr. Quack meant to write down 'Miralax', an OTC laxative, but he wrote down 'Mucinex' by mistake. So stop taking the Mucinex if you don't have congestion. Let's get you some Miralax instead, ok? You can get it at drugstores or grocery stores. It's over the counter," he said.
Oh my gawd. You have got to be kidding me, I thought. Jeez Louise. If CN was allowed to do what he wanted, he'd be dead or buying snake oil from some infomercial. I am just going to have to run this show from now on.
"Tell him about your prostate!!" I whispered to CN. CN has an enlarged prostate. It is hereditary in his family. His dad has prostate cancer right now, in fact, which is something you are at a high risk for if you have an enlarged prostate.
CN tells him all about the prostate issues.
"Ok, so let me get this straight. You have a urinary/kidney infection and an enlarged prostate?" asked the doctor.
"Yes," said CN.
"Well, what does your urologist say?" he continued.
"Um, I have never been to a urologist. Dr. Quack just told me to take saw palmetto, that herbal supplement that is supposed to help," CN explained.
You could have knocked the doctor over with a feather! He was visibly shocked. "You mean to tell me that you have prostate cancer in your immediate family, a history of enlarged prostate symptoms AND a urinary/kidney tract infection and you haven't been to a urologist??!" he exclaimed.
Thank you, you genius doctor, I thought. I have been telling him to go to a urologist for months.
"Um. No." CN mumbled.
"I'm referring you to one right away. You really don't need me, you need a urologist," he said.
We made the appointment at the urologist's, paid the bill and drove home.
"Thanks for coming with me, babe," CN said.
"You're welcome. Sorry I had to get all Czarina on your ass, but I was worried sick and you acted like you weren't concerned, and I got scared, which brings out my inner control freak," I said.
"No, I'm glad you did. It shows you care. I was kind of scared that there was something really wrong with me, and I didn't want to deal with it. Thanks for making me talk to a good doctor. I feel a lot better," he said.
"So I wasn't totally obnoxious?" I asked.
"No! You were great. I really appreciate it...Czarina."
"Shut up. Don't call me that ever again," I mumbled.
But after he ate, he said he didn't feel well. After some jokes about how I am poisoning him and/or not washing the strawberries, he decided to lie down. I joined him, because I didn't feel well either (little did I know, I was hours away from getting a migraine, and this was my body trying to warn me). Besides, my calves were killing me, thanks to my trainer's brilliant idea that I do 150 calf raises AND 30 pound lifts (45 times) on the calf weight machine at the gym. I would spend the weekend trying to stretch out my calves, only to end up hobbling around on my tippy toes, like some geriatric Barbie doll.
After our nap, I felt a little better, but CN felt worse -- much worse. He had nausea, dizziness, bloating, lower back pain, chills and....let's just say that "things" weren't "moving along". So I spent the evening taking care of him. I felt helpless, because nothing I did seemed to make him feel much better. I tried to stay up late with him -- he was in so much pain that he couldn't sleep -- but I konked out around 11pm. "Wake me up if you need anything," I said drowsily. I suck at being a night owl.
This pattern went on through Saturday night, all day Sunday and all day Monday. CN would eat, feel terrible, lie down, writhe in pain all night, then wake up feeling slightly better in the morning. And he had to go to extreme measures to get things "going", if you know what I mean.
To make things even worse, I woke up with a mild migraine on Sunday, so I was feeling pretty miserable, too. Thanks to a lot of caffeine, I managed to keep most of the pain at bay. So we went to Wal-Mart. But that was it! By the time we left, both of us were feeling worse. We laid around in bed for the rest of the day, feeling like crap!
"Wow, we are one exciting couple," he said.
On Monday morning, CN went to go see Dr. Quack. I call him Dr. Quack because when CN went to him last year, complaining of um....something really gross that can be a sign of something REALLY bad, he told CN to "just cut back on alcohol".
WTF?? A young, otherwise healthy man comes to you, complaining of unexplained bleeding, and you tell him to cut back on beer??! ARG!
"I really wish you wouldn't go see him again," I said. "He's a quack!"
"Well, I already made the appointment," he replied.
CN comes back from the doctor and calls me at work. "Ok, Dr. Quack says I have a kidney infection."
"But you have been complaining about gastro-intestinal issues," I replied, confused.
"Yeah, I know. But he tested my pee, and it came back infected. So I'm on antibiotics."
I remembered his lower back pain -- it must have been in his kidneys. That kind of made sense. I asked him if Dr. Quack said anything else about his other symptoms.
"Yeah, I told him about the dizziness, and he said I probably have congested sinuses, so he told me to go buy some Mucinex," CN replied.
"Do you have congestion?" I asked.
"No," CN answered. "But I bought some anyway. Just took the first dose."
Who the hell is this doctor?? I thought to myself. And why is my normally intelligent boyfriend just accepting everything he is saying as gospel?? Doesn't he see that this doc is a moron?? Apparently, I am going to have to just do all this for CN, because he cannot be trusted to be in charge of his own health. This is so ridiculous.
That's when I recognized this particular Voice in My Head: It was the worst voice of all. It was the voice of The Czarina. I was turning into my mother before my very eyes. As terrifying as it was, I couldn't stop it. It was like a ventriloquist had taken over my body. I was the dummy on her lap, saying whatever she would say.
"Ok, well, I will come check on you when I get home today," I replied. [Czarina Voice Translation: When I come over today after work, I am going to make you go see a real doctor who gives logical answers, because I am pretty sure this doctor got his MD from the back of a cereal box.]
By the time I got home, he was feeling a lot better, but he hadn't really eaten anything that day, so we went to grab some BBQ. As soon as he finished eating, he felt terrible again. Seeing the pattern of eating --> illness, I tell him I really think he should go to see a gastroenterologist. I was worried he might have IBS, diverticulitis or an intestinal blockage -- or worse.
We go home, and he's now really uncomfortable and lying on the couch. "We might need to go to the emergency room," he said. I explained (ok, Czarina's Voice explained) to him that if we go to the emergency room, they will put him at the bottom of the list because he's not bleeding to death and he doesn't have any heart/lung issues. Then, once they get around to seeing us at 4am, they will probably tell us to pop some vicodin and call your regular doctor in the morning.
He agreed and decided to stay put for the time being. He took some tylenol for the pain. To make him feel better, I stayed at his house in case he needed anything.
He felt ok yesterday morning -- not great, but ok. I went to work and came to check on him at lunch. It was time to visit a REAL doctor. One who didn't prescribe medicines for non-existent symptoms.
"But I've already been to the doctor," he whined.
"My coworkers recommend Dr. B," I said, ignoring him. He was going to the doctor whether he liked it or not. [Czarina was in full swing now.]
"Shouldn't we wait until the antibiotics really kick in? I mean, I'm fine! This is no big deal!" he said.
That's when I lost it. I gave CN a tear-filled lecture about how worried I was and how he's got to go to the doctor, if only so that I can stop worrying. I listed off all the reasons I wasn't happy with Dr. Quack and told him a bunch of scary stories I had heard about unresolved gastro-intestinal issues. After about 20 minutes of nagging, lecturing, guilt-tripping and begging, he finally caved in and agreed to call.
Dr. B couldn't see him for 2 days.
"Ok, yeah, Friday is ok, then," CN said into the phone.
"No, it's NOT!!" I hissed. "You need to see someone TODAY!!"
We called the doctor recommended to us by Dr. B's receptionist.
"Tomorrow morning at 9? Sure, that would be ok," CN said into the phone.
By this point, I was ready to grab the phone away from him and do it myself. What is it with men and doctors??!!
"Does he specialize in gastroenterology? Ask her if he specializes in gastro-intestinal issues," I asked. CN asked receptionist #2.
"No, he doesn't," CN told me. He went back to talking to receptionist #2.
"My chief complaint? Uh...I don't feel good. Just, ya know, in pain, in my back, mostly," he said.
"No!! You are having severe abdominal pain and nothing is making it better and you need to see someone TODAY!" I practically yelled. I was hovering over him by this point, like a helicopter.
CN made the appointment for the next morning at 9am. He got off the phone.
"Ok, we are calling a gastroenterologist this time," I said.
"But I just made an appointment with a family doctor for tomorrow," he said, confused.
"Yes, I realize this, but you need a gastroenterologist TODAY. Tomorrow isn't good enough. If you don't take health problems seriously, they will turn into serious health problems," I said. I gave him the number I had looked up in the phone book. He called and made an appointment for 2:30 that afternoon.
I took off the rest of the afternoon so that I could go with him.
"This really isn't necessary," CN said, as I made a list of all his symptoms and all the foods he had eaten in the past 48 hours. "I'm a big boy. I can go to the doctor by myself."
"Oh yeah? You can? What happened last time?" I asked.
"He told me I was congested. And I'm not," he mumbled.
"What else?" I asked, shrewishly. I was on a roll, now. This was Classic Czarina, spewing from my mouth. My hands may have even been on my hips.
"And I forgot to tell the doctor all of my symptoms. Or ask questions," he mumbled again.
"I'm going to the doctor's appointment with you, even if they make me sit in the waiting room the whole time." I announced, one eyebrow raised. "Besides, look at you. You're in so much pain, you can't even sit up straight. You can't drive like this."
We went to the doctor, complete with the list of symptoms I had written and all his medicines, including the over the counter stuff. They let me go into the exam room with CN.
The doctor comes in, and we tell him everything. I make CN show him the list I made.
The doctor tells us that sometimes, when someone gets any kind of infection, it can mess with your gastro-intestinal tract. So it was probably the kidney infection causing the gastro-intestinal problems. The doctor asked CN some questions, just to rule out anything serious. CN was fine. Just a little backed up, was all. (Finally! Some answers!!)
"So what's up with the Mucinex?" I asked.
The doctor turned to CN. "Are you congested?" he asked.
"No," said CN.
"Hmmm....I bet Dr. Quack meant to write down 'Miralax', an OTC laxative, but he wrote down 'Mucinex' by mistake. So stop taking the Mucinex if you don't have congestion. Let's get you some Miralax instead, ok? You can get it at drugstores or grocery stores. It's over the counter," he said.
Oh my gawd. You have got to be kidding me, I thought. Jeez Louise. If CN was allowed to do what he wanted, he'd be dead or buying snake oil from some infomercial. I am just going to have to run this show from now on.
"Tell him about your prostate!!" I whispered to CN. CN has an enlarged prostate. It is hereditary in his family. His dad has prostate cancer right now, in fact, which is something you are at a high risk for if you have an enlarged prostate.
CN tells him all about the prostate issues.
"Ok, so let me get this straight. You have a urinary/kidney infection and an enlarged prostate?" asked the doctor.
"Yes," said CN.
"Well, what does your urologist say?" he continued.
"Um, I have never been to a urologist. Dr. Quack just told me to take saw palmetto, that herbal supplement that is supposed to help," CN explained.
You could have knocked the doctor over with a feather! He was visibly shocked. "You mean to tell me that you have prostate cancer in your immediate family, a history of enlarged prostate symptoms AND a urinary/kidney tract infection and you haven't been to a urologist??!" he exclaimed.
Thank you, you genius doctor, I thought. I have been telling him to go to a urologist for months.
"Um. No." CN mumbled.
"I'm referring you to one right away. You really don't need me, you need a urologist," he said.
We made the appointment at the urologist's, paid the bill and drove home.
"Thanks for coming with me, babe," CN said.
"You're welcome. Sorry I had to get all Czarina on your ass, but I was worried sick and you acted like you weren't concerned, and I got scared, which brings out my inner control freak," I said.
"No, I'm glad you did. It shows you care. I was kind of scared that there was something really wrong with me, and I didn't want to deal with it. Thanks for making me talk to a good doctor. I feel a lot better," he said.
"So I wasn't totally obnoxious?" I asked.
"No! You were great. I really appreciate it...Czarina."
"Shut up. Don't call me that ever again," I mumbled.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Babies R (Not) Us
Like many young women, I want to have kids one day. I'm thinking at least 3, maybe as many as 5. (Hey, I come from a big family, so this is normal to me.) And although I am absolutely positive I want to be a mother before I die, and I have a couple of names picked out, that is about as far as I'd taken this thought.
Until this weekend.
Don't freak out -- I'm not having a baby! *knocks on wood to be sure*
But lately, I can't seem to escape the thought of babies, and it's starting to wig me out. Let's make a list, shall we? Yes, let's. Because VB's heart rate is rapidly accelerating, and lists make her feel more in control of her world. Here we go.
1. I had a dream two nights ago that I was talking with an old friend about what it's like to be pregnant. We poked at her belly and discussed her due date. I think that in the dream, I was trying to get pregnant. Whoa.
2. Last week, CN and I were sitting on the couch watching Biggest Loser. I mentioned how it would be so easy to lose weight if you had kids, because you'd feel like you'd have a really good reason -- something to motivate you to live into old age. He replied, "Yeah, but you'll have kids one day. You should start being healthier now." (He's right, as usual.) He was visibly surprised to hear my answer: "No. I don't know if I'm going to have kids. It may not be in the cards for me." And I shrugged, because I am not one to count my chickens (or children?) before they hatch. And then I changed the subject, because the conversation was getting a little to "real" for me. I'm not ready to talk about that with CN yet. Heck, I'm not ready to talk to anyone about that!
2. CN and I were invited to a baby shower this past weekend. So we had to go pick out a present at Babies R Us, which, if you've never been, is like Wal-Mart, only it's filled with pregnancy/baby/toddler stuff. And it's FULL of women who look like this:
Now, I don't know if any of you have ever been in a giant room full of women who look like their water is about to break, unless you are an OB/GYN, but it is terrifying!!! I wanted to run up to each soon-to-be mom and play traffic cop: "Everyone! Now just back up! I need you to keep at least 10 feet back! She's gonna blow any minute!!!" I'm not kidding -- some of those women HAD to be at almost ten months of pregnancy. My fear of accidentally bumping into them and causing their water to break left me temporarily paralyzed. I didn't move an inch.
I looked around some more. There were approximately 7.3 billion baby items to purchase for your baby and/or your pregnancy. Now, unlike some women, my Baby Experience Resume is pretty extensive -- tons of babysitting, the oldest of 5 kids, lover of all things small and cute, oozing with maternal instinct, and a Master's degree in diaper changing.
But nothing, and I mean nothing, could prepare me for the Baby Bonanza that is Babies R Us.
There were these strap-things, which hold your big pregnant belly up. Like a giant seatbelt or something. I don't know. There were covers for your nipples. I don't know why nipples need covers, and I'm wondering if it's because they don't make bras big enough for pregnancy-sized boobs-- a terrifying thought. And I have never seen so many thermometer options in my life. Did you know that pacifiers come in sizes? Yeah. Neither did I.
Between the pregnant women, the bizarre baby items for sale, and the umpteen newborns in the building, my head began to spin. I looked over at CN. He was white as a sheet, and also seemingly cemented to the floor.
"Oh. My. God. There are pregnant women everywhere...." I trailed off, speechless with fear.
"Yeah. And babies," whispered CN.
"This is totally freaking me out. Let's get the hell outta here ASAP!" I said.
We printed off the registry, grabbed the closest thing in our price range (which happened to be a Breast Friend, a product I was actually familiar with) and practically ran to the register. On the way to the register, I explained to CN what a Breast Friend does, and he proceeded to make jokes about how he wants one so he can be my breast friend. Har. Har.
3. On the way to the baby shower, I realized that never in the History of Baby Showers has there only been one baby or one pregnant woman. There were going to be more. And I was right. CN and I walked into a nest of new mothers and fathers, all discussing their new babies and baby products and baby philosophies and organic baby food and....well, you get the picture. There were two babies in addition to the one being celebrated. There were baby-themed cakes, decorations and party favors. Everyone was coupled up, either engaged or already married. It felt like everyone was expected to either have a baby or want to have a baby before even walking through the front door. Like it was a requirement to attend.
It was so overwhelming, I completely forgot that I had a boyfriend. My inner Single Girl said, "Shit! I hate parties like this! I'm single and I can hear my biological clock ticking now more than ever! Why do they never invite more than one single girl to parties like this?? Don't they realize it's torture? Oh. Wait. I am here with someone...Right. Ok." And then I spent the rest of the party trying to see if there were any single girls there, so that I could introduce myself and comfort them. Old habits never die, I guess. Or perhaps I just don't see CN and I as a couple couple yet. Because we haven't been dating long enough to discuss the possibility of making a little VB or CN yet. Does that make sense? I dunno. It felt too soon for us to be in that room with all those.....baby people.
Consequently, I kept to myself and stuffed 3 chocolate-covered strawberries, 4 ounces of dip/chips, one brownie and 17 petit-fours down my gob.
PMS hormones + too many babies + weird baby items + freakishly swollen bellies + a party where I know no one = Time to eat.
Ugh. I am getting a headache just typing this.
Anyway, our gift was a hit, and many "Breast Friend" jokes ensued.
4. After the party, CN and I had hoped to return to the Land of the Childless by attending W's birthday get-together. No such luck. My friend Y was there, and she is about 6 months pregnant with her first child. And a couple was there with their 3 month-old little girl. She was adorable. And they let me hold her. And she was so little! And she had that powdery baby smell! And she stuck out her bottom lip when she cried! And we all cooed over her adorableness.
CN was watching me do all of this. I cooed to him about the cute baby. He said it was impossible to escape babies that day. I nodded and continued to coo.
"You don't want one, do you?" he asked, terrified.
"Oh my God, NO!" I shouted. CN had jolted me back to reality.
And that's when I realized that I really like the idea of having a baby and being a mother. Possibly even with CN. But the whole pregnancy and labor thing totally freaks me out, and I am nowhere close to being ready to have one any time soon!!!
I wish the stork story was true. Because that is the kind of pregnancy/labor I want! Just thinking about how scary labor must be and how pregnancy totally f**ks up your body makes me feel like I'm going to faint. Why can't a nice little bird just drop if off on your doorstep? This is much more logical to me. It also sounds cheaper, safer, faster and cleaner. Scientists should look into this and see if this is indeed a viable option.
I explained all of this to CN and told him that I can't wait to be a mom, because once the baby has arrived, I think I would like it, because I know what to do. It's the whole pregnancy/swollen belly/scary labor stuff that bothers me.
He totally disagreed, saying that the baby's arrival is when all of his fears would start!
I guess it's good to know that we are on the same page about all of this stuff. Kinda.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
A.C.W.M.B.
Another Conversation With My Brain.
"Um, I think it's time to pay the bills. You haven't done that in a while," stated Good Point.
"Crap! What if one of them is late??? Your credit rating will be ruined for eternity!!" shrieked Pessimistically Paranoid.
So after dinner, I sat down at the table to pay the bills.
In blood.
Wait, WHY is the water bill triple of what it usually is???
"Because you decided it would be a good idea to put down sod the week before we had a record-breaking heat wave in South Carolina. Hope you like your nicely watered back yard," said Sarcastic in a snarky tone of voice.
Oh. Right. Well, that explains why the electric bill is double, then.
"Yup," said Logical.
"What I want to know is, why did you let your gyno talk you into visiting a urologist, even though nothing was wrong with you? Because that cost you $100. A hundred dollars to pee into a plastic jug. Nice!" said Bitch Mode.
"Leave her alone! She does a good job! It's just that sometimes, stuff comes up! She had to use her savings account to pay for the house!" yelled Hormonal, voice quivering.
"Oh, and I suppose you just had to go shopping this past weekend," sniped Inner Mom Voice.
"Well, that will be on next month's credit card statement anyway," replied Good Point.
"And what's up with those 2 Falcons tickets? Since when are you an NFL fan?" pushes Cynical.
"Those are for CN's birthday! And The Runner is buying one of them. The other one was free, thanks to our credit card reward points! So stuff it, Cynical!" cries Single Girl. They lunge at each other. Inner Mom Voice breaks it up.
"Look! There is a new boyfriend now, folks! That is big news! You need to buy him birthday presents and we have to buy new clothes and cute undies! That's just what you do when you get a new boyfriend, ok?? Everything we bought was on sale. And besides, those shoes were too good of a deal to pass up--$90, marked down to $23!" said Single Girl.
"Yeah, those shoes are seeeeeeeeexy!" said Pervert.
"Hey! Let's put them on and go show them to CN!" said Horny, giggling.
All the Voices giggle, nod and begin to head to the closet to go get the new shoes.
"Focus, people! We have to pay these bills. No shoe parades right now....HEY! What is this??? Why is the credit card bill so high this month??" said Practical.
"Oh, um, your hair has to look good when you get a boyfriend, too. It was, um, kind of extra and stuff, because you changed hair colors...and um, got a haircut, too. That was an approved trip to the hairdresser!! You said it was ok!" said Single Girl, defensively.
Shit.
Oh, and I had to get more flea/tick control for the dogs....and there was that dinner out with friends.....ok, make that 4 dinners out....oh man.........this is not good.
School loans....garbage service....sewer....mortgage....I watched in agony as my bank account hemorrhaged money. I paid so many bills, I ran out of stamps.
Shit shit shit!!! And I still have to pay my cell phone and cable bills!!! Aaaaaaargh.
Hormonal's eyes began to well up with tears.
"Don't cry, it will be ok!" said Stupidly Optimistic as she comforted Hormonal.
I grabbed the box of Kleenex from the bathroom.
"Don't forget that car taxes are due this month, too." said Logical, quietly.
"OK! Now I'm freaking out!" shouted Panic, running around in circles, screaming.
"Hold on, don't freak out. Let me see what is left over....ok, good. See? We have like...um...$27." said Practical.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!" screamed Panic. She faints and passes out on the floor.
"Ohmygod. We're gonna be homeless!" wailed Pessimistically Paranoid.
"We can rent out the house fully furnished, and move back home with The Czarina!" blurted Stupidly Optimistic.
All the Voices turn and look at her, jaws open. A dead silence overtakes the room. No one moves or says anything. Somewhere, a clock ticks.
"Dude, no. No freaking way. Unh-uh," I say, shaking my head. Everyone shakes their head in agreement. Panic barfs in the corner. "We've got to think of something else."
"We could get a part time job!" shouts Stupidly Optimistic.
"Hey! Dumbass! We need money yesterday, not in two weeks!" retorts Sarcastic.
"Does anyone owe us money?" asks Good Point.
Bitch Mode sits down to make a list of people who owe money. The rest of the Voices continue to brainstorm. Single Girl is lying on the couch in a catatonic state, staring at the ceiling, muttering to herself. Hormonal is immersed in damp, wadded-up Kleenex, rocking back and forth, crying. Overly Analytical is banging her head against the wall. Confident has completely lost it and is under the table in the fetal position, shaking.
"Oh man, we are really in a fix! What are we going to do??" says Impatient.
"Quick! What can we sell?" shouts Logical.
All the Voices think.
"The dog!" shouts Impatient.
"Tried it. No takers," said Good Point.
"Our shoes!" says Practical.
"Shut your mouth!!" screams Single Girl. "You have always hated shopping, and now you're just trying to get even! I won't let you take it out on the shoes!!!"
"Besides, it's not like there's a ton of women on eBay who are looking for size 9 1/2 narrow. We have freak feet, remember?" says Good Point.
"The jewelry???" offers Shy, timidly.
"Dude?! Are you on drugs?! The Czarina would shoot you! And besides, you've only got 2 pieces of real jewelry anyway. It's not worth it," says Good Point.
"Electronics?" asks Single Girl. "We can live without those."
Everyone reminds Single Girl that Cheapskate made sure that all electronics were either hand-me-down freebies or generic-brand Wal-Mart purchases. No dice.
"Crap! We have nothing of value! And it's all my fault! This sucks!" says Cheapskate, sobbing.
"Where is all the money going?? We really need to work up a budget, because I think you're spending it all on candy," says Overly Analytical. "You're going to end up filing for bankruptcy, courtesy of Hershey's if you don't stop it with the chocolate. And how sad is that? Imagine telling the judge -- 'Your honor, I just couldn't stop...the fun size bars were calling my name! But I've been clean for 3 weeks now!"
"Ooh! I know! We can sell our body!!" yelled Pervert.
"We're too ugly to make good money being hookers! We'd never be better than five dollar hookers! By the time we made enough money, we'd be the biggest hoes in the tri-state area! With our cellulite and fat ass courtesy of our candy addiction, it's amazing CN even wants us!!" wailed Hormonal. "I can't believe anyone wants to see us naked, let alone sleep with us!! We're hideous!!!! Bwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!"
Hormonal leaves to go cry into a pillow. She will proceed to have an emotional breakdown for the rest of the evening. Which is fine with the rest of the voices, because whenever she shows up, she's just a big Debbie Downer.
"Hey, don't they have an amateur night at Platinum Plus? Stripping here and there to pay the bills doesn't make you a stripper, per se, right?? I mean, you'd have to do it full time to be considered a 'stripper'," says Horny, enthusiastically.
"Oh yeah, I totally agree," chimes Pervert.
"Wow. So this really is how women start to work corners in downtown urban areas...and all this time I thought it was just something I read about in sociology textbooks," wondered Nerd aloud.
"WHAT??" screamed Panic, who was totally out of control by this point. Her eyes roll back into her head and she collapses.
Prisspot, although speechless, is just as upset at the thought of becoming a real, actual hooker. She dissolves into tears and joins Hormonal in the pillow-sobbing.
"Ooh! I know! We can dress up like a homeless person and beg for money! It will be like practice, since we do this all the time, anyway, and soon we will be homeless!" yells Sarcastic.
"AAARRRGH!!! I am so MAD at us! There is no excuse! We make plenty of money. This has GOT to stop. We have been living on the edge for months now. No more bullshit purchases, do you hear me? That means no more Starbuck's, no more lottery tickets, no more 'Ooh, I wonder what this body wash is like' and no more 'But it's on sale' !!! You got it??!!" shouts Inner Mom Voice.
All the Voices look at their feet and nod.
"I'm putting the clamp down on all purchasing. If you don't like it...tough," states Bitch Mode.
More nodding.
Shy raises her hand.
"Yes, Shy?" asks Bitch Mode.
"Um, we're out of stamps. Can we stop at the store on the way home?" she asks, trembling.
*sigh*
"Sure."
"Um, I think it's time to pay the bills. You haven't done that in a while," stated Good Point.
"Crap! What if one of them is late??? Your credit rating will be ruined for eternity!!" shrieked Pessimistically Paranoid.
So after dinner, I sat down at the table to pay the bills.
In blood.
Wait, WHY is the water bill triple of what it usually is???
"Because you decided it would be a good idea to put down sod the week before we had a record-breaking heat wave in South Carolina. Hope you like your nicely watered back yard," said Sarcastic in a snarky tone of voice.
Oh. Right. Well, that explains why the electric bill is double, then.
"Yup," said Logical.
"What I want to know is, why did you let your gyno talk you into visiting a urologist, even though nothing was wrong with you? Because that cost you $100. A hundred dollars to pee into a plastic jug. Nice!" said Bitch Mode.
"Leave her alone! She does a good job! It's just that sometimes, stuff comes up! She had to use her savings account to pay for the house!" yelled Hormonal, voice quivering.
"Oh, and I suppose you just had to go shopping this past weekend," sniped Inner Mom Voice.
"Well, that will be on next month's credit card statement anyway," replied Good Point.
"And what's up with those 2 Falcons tickets? Since when are you an NFL fan?" pushes Cynical.
"Those are for CN's birthday! And The Runner is buying one of them. The other one was free, thanks to our credit card reward points! So stuff it, Cynical!" cries Single Girl. They lunge at each other. Inner Mom Voice breaks it up.
"Look! There is a new boyfriend now, folks! That is big news! You need to buy him birthday presents and we have to buy new clothes and cute undies! That's just what you do when you get a new boyfriend, ok?? Everything we bought was on sale. And besides, those shoes were too good of a deal to pass up--$90, marked down to $23!" said Single Girl.
"Yeah, those shoes are seeeeeeeeexy!" said Pervert.
"Hey! Let's put them on and go show them to CN!" said Horny, giggling.
All the Voices giggle, nod and begin to head to the closet to go get the new shoes.
"Focus, people! We have to pay these bills. No shoe parades right now....HEY! What is this??? Why is the credit card bill so high this month??" said Practical.
"Oh, um, your hair has to look good when you get a boyfriend, too. It was, um, kind of extra and stuff, because you changed hair colors...and um, got a haircut, too. That was an approved trip to the hairdresser!! You said it was ok!" said Single Girl, defensively.
Shit.
Oh, and I had to get more flea/tick control for the dogs....and there was that dinner out with friends.....ok, make that 4 dinners out....oh man.........this is not good.
School loans....garbage service....sewer....mortgage....I watched in agony as my bank account hemorrhaged money. I paid so many bills, I ran out of stamps.
Shit shit shit!!! And I still have to pay my cell phone and cable bills!!! Aaaaaaargh.
Hormonal's eyes began to well up with tears.
"Don't cry, it will be ok!" said Stupidly Optimistic as she comforted Hormonal.
I grabbed the box of Kleenex from the bathroom.
"Don't forget that car taxes are due this month, too." said Logical, quietly.
"OK! Now I'm freaking out!" shouted Panic, running around in circles, screaming.
"Hold on, don't freak out. Let me see what is left over....ok, good. See? We have like...um...$27." said Practical.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!" screamed Panic. She faints and passes out on the floor.
"Ohmygod. We're gonna be homeless!" wailed Pessimistically Paranoid.
"We can rent out the house fully furnished, and move back home with The Czarina!" blurted Stupidly Optimistic.
All the Voices turn and look at her, jaws open. A dead silence overtakes the room. No one moves or says anything. Somewhere, a clock ticks.
"Dude, no. No freaking way. Unh-uh," I say, shaking my head. Everyone shakes their head in agreement. Panic barfs in the corner. "We've got to think of something else."
"We could get a part time job!" shouts Stupidly Optimistic.
"Hey! Dumbass! We need money yesterday, not in two weeks!" retorts Sarcastic.
"Does anyone owe us money?" asks Good Point.
Bitch Mode sits down to make a list of people who owe money. The rest of the Voices continue to brainstorm. Single Girl is lying on the couch in a catatonic state, staring at the ceiling, muttering to herself. Hormonal is immersed in damp, wadded-up Kleenex, rocking back and forth, crying. Overly Analytical is banging her head against the wall. Confident has completely lost it and is under the table in the fetal position, shaking.
"Oh man, we are really in a fix! What are we going to do??" says Impatient.
"Quick! What can we sell?" shouts Logical.
All the Voices think.
"The dog!" shouts Impatient.
"Tried it. No takers," said Good Point.
"Our shoes!" says Practical.
"Shut your mouth!!" screams Single Girl. "You have always hated shopping, and now you're just trying to get even! I won't let you take it out on the shoes!!!"
"Besides, it's not like there's a ton of women on eBay who are looking for size 9 1/2 narrow. We have freak feet, remember?" says Good Point.
"The jewelry???" offers Shy, timidly.
"Dude?! Are you on drugs?! The Czarina would shoot you! And besides, you've only got 2 pieces of real jewelry anyway. It's not worth it," says Good Point.
"Electronics?" asks Single Girl. "We can live without those."
Everyone reminds Single Girl that Cheapskate made sure that all electronics were either hand-me-down freebies or generic-brand Wal-Mart purchases. No dice.
"Crap! We have nothing of value! And it's all my fault! This sucks!" says Cheapskate, sobbing.
"Where is all the money going?? We really need to work up a budget, because I think you're spending it all on candy," says Overly Analytical. "You're going to end up filing for bankruptcy, courtesy of Hershey's if you don't stop it with the chocolate. And how sad is that? Imagine telling the judge -- 'Your honor, I just couldn't stop...the fun size bars were calling my name! But I've been clean for 3 weeks now!"
"Ooh! I know! We can sell our body!!" yelled Pervert.
"We're too ugly to make good money being hookers! We'd never be better than five dollar hookers! By the time we made enough money, we'd be the biggest hoes in the tri-state area! With our cellulite and fat ass courtesy of our candy addiction, it's amazing CN even wants us!!" wailed Hormonal. "I can't believe anyone wants to see us naked, let alone sleep with us!! We're hideous!!!! Bwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!"
Hormonal leaves to go cry into a pillow. She will proceed to have an emotional breakdown for the rest of the evening. Which is fine with the rest of the voices, because whenever she shows up, she's just a big Debbie Downer.
"Hey, don't they have an amateur night at Platinum Plus? Stripping here and there to pay the bills doesn't make you a stripper, per se, right?? I mean, you'd have to do it full time to be considered a 'stripper'," says Horny, enthusiastically.
"Oh yeah, I totally agree," chimes Pervert.
"Wow. So this really is how women start to work corners in downtown urban areas...and all this time I thought it was just something I read about in sociology textbooks," wondered Nerd aloud.
"WHAT??" screamed Panic, who was totally out of control by this point. Her eyes roll back into her head and she collapses.
Prisspot, although speechless, is just as upset at the thought of becoming a real, actual hooker. She dissolves into tears and joins Hormonal in the pillow-sobbing.
"Ooh! I know! We can dress up like a homeless person and beg for money! It will be like practice, since we do this all the time, anyway, and soon we will be homeless!" yells Sarcastic.
"AAARRRGH!!! I am so MAD at us! There is no excuse! We make plenty of money. This has GOT to stop. We have been living on the edge for months now. No more bullshit purchases, do you hear me? That means no more Starbuck's, no more lottery tickets, no more 'Ooh, I wonder what this body wash is like' and no more 'But it's on sale' !!! You got it??!!" shouts Inner Mom Voice.
All the Voices look at their feet and nod.
"I'm putting the clamp down on all purchasing. If you don't like it...tough," states Bitch Mode.
More nodding.
Shy raises her hand.
"Yes, Shy?" asks Bitch Mode.
"Um, we're out of stamps. Can we stop at the store on the way home?" she asks, trembling.
*sigh*
"Sure."
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Thursday 13
I'm alive, but barely. I just wish I could mainline some caffeine. *yawn*
Sorry about my long absence, but I don't have much to report! Everything has been smooth sailing, really. Since it's Thursday, I will make this a list of 13 things that have been going on so you can catch up! And nothing is wrong -- I just used the cloud logo because it's very dreary and rainy here today. Which is not helping my sleepiness!
1. I have 88 people reading this! Woot! I feel special. I had to re-send some invites today, because the guest invite only lasts for 2 weeks, so if you have been using the guest access, please create an account or face my wrath.
2. I am E-X-H-A-U-S-T-E-D today. I stayed up late hanging out with CN on Tuesday night, went to trivia last night until 11:30 and tonight I will be up late again. On Friday, I'm meeting up with the Happy Hour Girls, so I won't get any sleep tomorrow either! Aack! Thank goodness for coffee! If I can just hold out for Saturday morning, I will finally catch up on sleep.
3. Things are still going swimmingly with CN. He is wonderful and I'm really really happy. I think this is the first guy I've ever dated where I literally have nothing to complain about, even after dating him for a month. I swear the guy can read my mind. He is thoughtful, fun, considerate, affectionate, honest, patient....I could go on and on. He has yet to let me down. Period. Maybe I should change his name from Cute Neighbor to Mr. Wonderful?? LOL ugh, I think I just barfed a little.
4. Of course, the Pessimistically Paranoid Voice in me is saying, "Ok, no one is this great. There's got to be something he's hiding from you. He likes to wear women's underwear. Or he doesn't want to have children. Or he doesn't see anything wrong with torturing animals. Maybe he's got bodies buried under his house. There's got to be SOMETHING!! Get him to spill it!!!" -- But I'm still not finding any evidence. He's just.......really nice and sweet. To everyone, even strangers. Very normal guy. Geeky and shy, but normal. There's just nothing bad about him, really. It's kinda freaking me out a little.
5. He got tickets to the USC/Kentucky game tonight! I am SO FREAKING EXCITED. The tickets are really hard to get, especially since we are ranked 11th now. And I really hate Kentucky, because they are a big rival of my alma mater, Indiana University. So I really want to see them get creamed tonight. It should be a really good game -- both teams have been doing better than usual this year. The game is being televised nationally (ESPN), so if you watch it, I will wave to you from the crowd! I'll be wearing the garnet-colored tshirt. :)
6. I am taking MJ, KT, VW, CN and his friend The Runner to a big Halloween party thrown by S (one of the Happy Hour Girls) every year. This is the 5th annual Halloween party, and everyone has to wear a costume. It should be really fun. MJ & I are going to be Sprockets and The Runner is going to be The King (as in, Burger King). I don't think anyone else has their costumes picked out yet. CN is thinking about growing a mustache and going as Tom Selleck's character from Magnum P.I., much to my dismay. He looks very strange with a mustache -- I've seen pictures. So I need ideas, people. I am very anti-CN-mustache. Help me!
7. Other fun fall activities we (ie, MJ, VW, KT, The Runner and CN & I) have planned include: going to the corn maze, going to "Scarowinds" (Carowinds, the closest amusement park, has special Halloween features this month) and going on a ghost tour. And then, next week, the SC State Fair comes to town. EEEEEEK!!! I love October and Halloween!!!!
8. My roommate E and her boyfriend B are in the midst of what will probably end up being Breakup #3. I feel really bad for them, because I think they are both great people, but I think they are very ill-suited for each other. They have very different families, religions and goals. There are some trust issues on his part (he snooped through her phone) and she has some ex-boyfriend issues (I don't think she's recovered emotionally from her ex, who is a complete asshole). She would never in a million years cheat on B -- that's not what I'm saying. I just think that maybe she's not ready to be close to someone emotionally right now. And his family doesn't like her and probably never will. To make it worse, when they pick on E, he rarely sticks up for her, which has been causing some problems for them. Throw in the fact that he will never leave SC and she wants to move somewhere else eventually, and you begin to wonder why they are dating in the first place. I do not doubt that they love each other, but sometimes love isn't enough. You have to be on the same page about stuff. And they just aren't. E is willing to call it quits, but B is kind of in denial and thinks they can work things out. Since they work together, E is worried how it will affect that situation, especially since B is the boss's son.
So, in a nutshell, it's a big ol' mess. I have been trying to support E and listen to her, because she is upset about all of this. I hate to see her upset right now, because she has a bunch of other personal problems at the moment. She's majorly stressed. I just really think they need to call it quits -- for GOOD. They both need someone who is better suited for them. Hopefully they will figure this out and both move on with their lives. Until then, I'll just have to keep baking her brownies! I think they are helping.
9. Butter wrecked her car the other day. She's fine, but her car is totaled. She doesn't know exactly what happened, because it all happened so quickly, but it sounds like she blew a tire and lost control of the car. She drove into a big ditch. She was a little shaken, but she's fine now.
10. CN's dad is in the hospital, about an hour away. I think I told you he has cancer. Yeah, it's not good. Anyway, CN's dad's back has been hurting. He thought it was just a pinched nerve or something, so he went to the doctor. It turns out he's got a tumor on his back. So he's in the hospital right now, getting biopsies and stuff. CN doesn't like talking about it, and I can tell he gets upset, so I don't like pressuring him for details. But he did mention that he may go down there tonight instead of going to the game, depending on how well his dad is doing. He also may go down to the hospital this weekend to stay with his parents. I told him that I will go with him if he wants me to. So hopefully everything will be ok.
11. Um, ok, how about something not so Debbie Downer-ish? I watched the Strangers with Candy movie the other night. If you liked the Comedy Central show with Amy Sedaris and Stephen Colbert, you will LOVE the movie. It's pretty funny.
12. Tomorrow night is the reunion of the Happy Hour Girls. We have all been so busy for the past few months, we haven't gotten together in ages. Now that the summer is over and we are all done with vacations and other things, we can start meeting up at Wild Wings again. I am very excited to have girl time!
13. I am reading two Neil Strauss books right now: The Game, which is about the Pick-Up Artist community, and The Dirt: Confessions of the World's Most Notorious Rock Band. CN is letting me borrow it. It's about one of my favorite 80s hair bands, Motley Crue. Have I ever told you I'm a huge Tommy Lee fan? I think he's hilarious and really interesting. Aside from all the hepatitis stuff, anyway.
CN saw my copy of The Game, and asked me about it. I explained the book a little to him. Now he's on a mission to steal it from me and read it. I told him he didn't need to worry about picking up any chicks right now. :)
Alright, now you're all caught up, my wonderful little readers! I hope everyone's having a great day! You think I put enough links in this post? LOL
Friday, August 24, 2007
Social Butterfly
Holy cow, this week has been a big blur. I have gone out every night except Tuesday, and that's because I had to work. I've had a good time, but last night was especially fun. I don't know if it was because both neighbors have (in theory) asked me out or if it was my good hair day or because I listened to my official "Going Out Tonight" CD (which always gets me in the mood) or what, but I had confidence oozing out of my pores. I was ready to party it up with the Happy Hour Girls: E, Talker and KittyKat. (Butter & S couldn't make it.)
You will be glad to know that the only voices I took with me were Confident and Pervert. :)
It was going to be a good night.
We started with a neighborhood block party in Talker's neighborhood. Unfortunately, I showed up about 20 minutes before my friends did. Ugh. I hate it when that happens. Considering I am naturally very shy, I could feel my confidence slipping away as I sat at a table, alone. True to form, everyone was dressed in their finest preppy attire and didn't talk to any "outsiders" such as myself. So I sipped my water and read a brochure while I waited. Usually, Southerners are really friendly, but in situations like this, where I'm wearing Express instead of Lily Pulitzer, they can get snooty pretty fast. I felt like the Whore of Babylon. "Note to self," I thought. "The next time you see someone sitting alone, go talk to them. Don't be a snooty Southern Belle."
I hoped my friends would hurry up before I let my shy, reserved side come back out. I was tired of being shy. I was ready to be crazy and have fun and flirt! I could feel my old College Self coming back, and it was great! (College VB is the most super fun side of my personality!!)
Luckily, my friends arrived en masse, and brought along 2 more girls I met briefly the week before: Teacher and Sweet Cheeks. Old friends and new friends -- my favorite mix of people! Yay! We caught up and had some food before heading to our usual hang out, Wild Wings.
That's when the craziness started! Beers clinked, shot glasses emptied, eyes winked and laughter filled the air around us. We had so much to discuss: Talker and her boyfriend had recently broken up, KittyKat was thinking about dumping her boyfriend, I had to tell them about Hot Neighbor semi-asking me out, E needed to talk to me about moving in this weekend, Teacher needed to get drunk and we all had to tease KittyKat about her huge crush on our favorite bartender. We were a party in and of ourselves, and even roamed all over the bar, but we also ended up talking to a lot of guys.
A guy E used to sorta date ran into us. None of us had ever met him, so that was interesting. He was fine for a while, but then he got drunk....and started invading personal space. That's when I found out he had onion breath. Yuck!
I saw a lawyer I know. He used to sorta date Blonde, one of my nursing friends, so I went over to say hello. He ended up asking me out, which I found very inappropriate, considering he used to be involved with one of my friends. So he got shot down.
Then he introduced me to his friend. He seemed nice at first, but when I told him I am a librarian, he said, "Oh, my ex-wife is a librarian!" ...and then he proceeded to launch into a condensed version of why/how his marriage fell apart. He finished the story, and then proceeded to ask me out. Good grief. What is with these guys? I do not want to date a Davy Downer! He was too depressing. The thought of making it through a meal with this guy seemed unbearable. He needed to check his baggage. He got shot down, too.
Another guy that was with them tried to come over and talk to me later on. But I was on my way upstairs. When he whined about having just come all the way downstairs just to talk to me, I said, "Honey, I'm a social butterfly. You gotta keep up!" and continued on my way.
I was on a roll!
When I got upstairs, I saw that Teacher was in the process of getting plowed and was on the verge of making out with a guy by this point in the evening. Sweet Cheeks and I giggled as we watched them falling all over each other. I'm sure she'll be incessantly teased tonight.
Then I was talking to Talker when a guy she knew approached us. I had my back turned to him as he came over to us. When she introduced me, he turned around and I saw: The Banker.
Backstory: One night, way back in January or February, I was at WW, waiting for the HH Girls to show up. The Banker approached me and we hit it off. I gave him my number right before my girls arrived. Then I said goodbye and went to join my friends. For months afterwards, he would randomly drunk dial me in the middle of the night and ask me tons of mundane questions: What do I do for a living? What part of town do I live in? Do I have any siblings? etc. Needless to say, it got old. After asking him several times to just call back during daylight hours and getting no compliance on his part, I eventually had enough and told him to leave me alone. That was several months ago. I deleted his number, and I assume he deleted mine.
"Oh, yeah. I've already met Virginia. I'm sure she remembers who I am," he said, bashfully. I could tell he felt uncomfortable.
"Of course I do," I said, smiling. I had forgotten how adorable he is! Before I could really start flirting with him, he bolted. While I understood his discomfort at the situation, all I could think was, "Dammit! Come back here! I want to give you another chance!"
I turned back to Talker and gave her the backstory about The Banker. She told me he's a really nice guy who probably just got nervous. I saw him again, just as I was leaving, grabbed his hand, smiled and said, "Bye..."
I'm sure I'll see him again. Maybe tonight. Maybe 3 months from now. It's ok. I didn't need to give anyone my phone number last night. I had something far more important going on: I got my mojo back! No more shy & reserved VB! WOOT!!
I'm such a heartbreaker, huh?
You will be glad to know that the only voices I took with me were Confident and Pervert. :)
It was going to be a good night.
We started with a neighborhood block party in Talker's neighborhood. Unfortunately, I showed up about 20 minutes before my friends did. Ugh. I hate it when that happens. Considering I am naturally very shy, I could feel my confidence slipping away as I sat at a table, alone. True to form, everyone was dressed in their finest preppy attire and didn't talk to any "outsiders" such as myself. So I sipped my water and read a brochure while I waited. Usually, Southerners are really friendly, but in situations like this, where I'm wearing Express instead of Lily Pulitzer, they can get snooty pretty fast. I felt like the Whore of Babylon. "Note to self," I thought. "The next time you see someone sitting alone, go talk to them. Don't be a snooty Southern Belle."
I hoped my friends would hurry up before I let my shy, reserved side come back out. I was tired of being shy. I was ready to be crazy and have fun and flirt! I could feel my old College Self coming back, and it was great! (College VB is the most super fun side of my personality!!)
Luckily, my friends arrived en masse, and brought along 2 more girls I met briefly the week before: Teacher and Sweet Cheeks. Old friends and new friends -- my favorite mix of people! Yay! We caught up and had some food before heading to our usual hang out, Wild Wings.
That's when the craziness started! Beers clinked, shot glasses emptied, eyes winked and laughter filled the air around us. We had so much to discuss: Talker and her boyfriend had recently broken up, KittyKat was thinking about dumping her boyfriend, I had to tell them about Hot Neighbor semi-asking me out, E needed to talk to me about moving in this weekend, Teacher needed to get drunk and we all had to tease KittyKat about her huge crush on our favorite bartender. We were a party in and of ourselves, and even roamed all over the bar, but we also ended up talking to a lot of guys.
A guy E used to sorta date ran into us. None of us had ever met him, so that was interesting. He was fine for a while, but then he got drunk....and started invading personal space. That's when I found out he had onion breath. Yuck!
I saw a lawyer I know. He used to sorta date Blonde, one of my nursing friends, so I went over to say hello. He ended up asking me out, which I found very inappropriate, considering he used to be involved with one of my friends. So he got shot down.
Then he introduced me to his friend. He seemed nice at first, but when I told him I am a librarian, he said, "Oh, my ex-wife is a librarian!" ...and then he proceeded to launch into a condensed version of why/how his marriage fell apart. He finished the story, and then proceeded to ask me out. Good grief. What is with these guys? I do not want to date a Davy Downer! He was too depressing. The thought of making it through a meal with this guy seemed unbearable. He needed to check his baggage. He got shot down, too.
Another guy that was with them tried to come over and talk to me later on. But I was on my way upstairs. When he whined about having just come all the way downstairs just to talk to me, I said, "Honey, I'm a social butterfly. You gotta keep up!" and continued on my way.
I was on a roll!
When I got upstairs, I saw that Teacher was in the process of getting plowed and was on the verge of making out with a guy by this point in the evening. Sweet Cheeks and I giggled as we watched them falling all over each other. I'm sure she'll be incessantly teased tonight.
Then I was talking to Talker when a guy she knew approached us. I had my back turned to him as he came over to us. When she introduced me, he turned around and I saw: The Banker.
Backstory: One night, way back in January or February, I was at WW, waiting for the HH Girls to show up. The Banker approached me and we hit it off. I gave him my number right before my girls arrived. Then I said goodbye and went to join my friends. For months afterwards, he would randomly drunk dial me in the middle of the night and ask me tons of mundane questions: What do I do for a living? What part of town do I live in? Do I have any siblings? etc. Needless to say, it got old. After asking him several times to just call back during daylight hours and getting no compliance on his part, I eventually had enough and told him to leave me alone. That was several months ago. I deleted his number, and I assume he deleted mine.
"Oh, yeah. I've already met Virginia. I'm sure she remembers who I am," he said, bashfully. I could tell he felt uncomfortable.
"Of course I do," I said, smiling. I had forgotten how adorable he is! Before I could really start flirting with him, he bolted. While I understood his discomfort at the situation, all I could think was, "Dammit! Come back here! I want to give you another chance!"
I turned back to Talker and gave her the backstory about The Banker. She told me he's a really nice guy who probably just got nervous. I saw him again, just as I was leaving, grabbed his hand, smiled and said, "Bye..."
I'm sure I'll see him again. Maybe tonight. Maybe 3 months from now. It's ok. I didn't need to give anyone my phone number last night. I had something far more important going on: I got my mojo back! No more shy & reserved VB! WOOT!!
I'm such a heartbreaker, huh?
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
The Voices Are Back
It's 11:30pm. I am walking from my car to my house. I have just gotten home from hanging out with E&B and Butter and some other people. Because SC is currently under round-the-clock heat index warnings, I have on a sundress. It's the only thing in my wardrobe that can stand the steamy, 83 degree evenings. Out of the corner of my eye, something moves.
Panic: Jeezus! What was that?!!
It was Hot Neighbor. He scared the crap out of me. What the hell is he doing, checking his mailbox at 11:30 at night?
Confident: He's trying to talk to you. Duh.
Me: Good grief, you scared the heck out of me! [ed. note: He apparently goes to church. I gotta watch my F-bombs. It feels strange to say "heck" and "good grief".]
HN: Oh, hey neighbor!
Cynical: He doesn't even know your name. How pathetic. Has he even spoken your name once?
The Voices shake their heads and look at the ground. Shy whimpers, "It's all my fault!" and runs away.
HN: Look at you, all dressed up! What'd you do tonight?
Panic: SHIT! What do we do??
Confident: Sweet! He noticed the dress! Good call, Single Girl!
Single Girl: I aim to please.
Shy: Oh, I knew that dress was too short! And did you have to wear the heels?? Now we have to talk to him!! Ack! We are not prepared for this!!!!
Cynical: I love how he doesn't know your name, but suddenly wants to talk to you when he sees you in a short dress. Classic.
Practical: Dude, I'm tired. Clayton kicked your ass at the gym. Can't we just go to bed? Your arms and shoulders are aching.
Single Girl: Quick! Think of something to say! Something witty! And go walk over to him! Cue the flirting!!!!
Shy: What are you smoking, Single Girl? In order to flirt, we need adequate mental preparation time. We should just say goodnight and go to bed.
Horny: Oh, shit! Did he just come back from the gym? Because he's all......sweaty!
Pervert: Quick! Take a picture!
Single Girl: Damn, he looks good in that tshirt. Nice biceps....
Space Cadet: I'm hungry.
Pessimistically Paranoid: Wait a second. It's 11:30 and he's just now getting home? Where has he been? I bet he was at Hoochie's house all night! I bet those beads of sweat are from--
Overly Analytical: Dude, don't go there. We do not need to be adding to her inferiority complex. He was probably out with some friends and then went to the gym.
Shy: Yeah, it's hard enough just standing out here and talking to him. Don't put ideas in her head.
Me: Oh, just to hang out with some friends. It was my friend's boyfriend's birthday, so we all got together.
Single Girl: Why are you still standing on your steps? Go over there!
Inner Mom Voice: No, he should be coming over HERE. You are worth some effort. Don't make a fool of yourself, wandering across the yards to go talk to him. And stand up straight.
Cynical: Excellent flirting. Maybe you can go down the list of what he got for his birthday. That's hot. He'll totally ask you out if your friend got cool stuff for his birthday.
Me: Yeah, he got a grill and an apron and...
The Voices: SHUT UP! What are you doing????
HN: Oh. That's great! Did you guys go out to eat, or...?
Me: Yeah, well, they did. I got there too late. But we had fun. *smiles*
Cynical: OMG, it's 11:30pm and you two happen to run into each other, and THIS is all he can think to talk about?? Wake me up when he's asked you out. *snores*
Panic: Dude, this is not going well. Abort!
Good Point: No, Hot Neighbor needs to step up to the plate and see what you're doing on Friday night. This small talk is just wasting everyone's time.
The Voices nod in agreement. "Wait, why are we out here?" someone asks.
HN: *just kind of stands there*
Panic: RUN!!!!!
Me: Ok, well, have a good night! *runs inside*
I shut the door behind me. Sammy greets me. He has no idea how pathetic his owner is, so he wags his little tail stump in approval.
Shy: Oh, thank God. It is so good to be safe and inside.
Cynical: Another fabulous performance. Way to go.
Single Girl: You are dead to me.
Horny and Pervert are kicking Panic and shouting, "Stop doing that! Stop doing that! You ruin it every time!!!" Panic is on the ground, rolling in agony from the pain of their pointy shoes.
Stupidly Optimistic: Maybe he'll come over and knock on the door and ask you out!!
Cynical: Are you high? She just blew him off.
Practical: Well, really, what was the point? He wasn't going to cut to the chase.
Impatient: It's 11:30. Some of us have to work in the morning. We can't go over every detail of the evening, hoping he'll ask us out sometime before 3am.
Overly Analytical: You know, you've really got to get over this fear of dating or you really will be alone forever.
Me: *sighs* I know.
Panic: Jeezus! What was that?!!
It was Hot Neighbor. He scared the crap out of me. What the hell is he doing, checking his mailbox at 11:30 at night?
Confident: He's trying to talk to you. Duh.
Me: Good grief, you scared the heck out of me! [ed. note: He apparently goes to church. I gotta watch my F-bombs. It feels strange to say "heck" and "good grief".]
HN: Oh, hey neighbor!
Cynical: He doesn't even know your name. How pathetic. Has he even spoken your name once?
The Voices shake their heads and look at the ground. Shy whimpers, "It's all my fault!" and runs away.
HN: Look at you, all dressed up! What'd you do tonight?
Panic: SHIT! What do we do??
Confident: Sweet! He noticed the dress! Good call, Single Girl!
Single Girl: I aim to please.
Shy: Oh, I knew that dress was too short! And did you have to wear the heels?? Now we have to talk to him!! Ack! We are not prepared for this!!!!
Cynical: I love how he doesn't know your name, but suddenly wants to talk to you when he sees you in a short dress. Classic.
Practical: Dude, I'm tired. Clayton kicked your ass at the gym. Can't we just go to bed? Your arms and shoulders are aching.
Single Girl: Quick! Think of something to say! Something witty! And go walk over to him! Cue the flirting!!!!
Shy: What are you smoking, Single Girl? In order to flirt, we need adequate mental preparation time. We should just say goodnight and go to bed.
Horny: Oh, shit! Did he just come back from the gym? Because he's all......sweaty!
Pervert: Quick! Take a picture!
Single Girl: Damn, he looks good in that tshirt. Nice biceps....
Space Cadet: I'm hungry.
Pessimistically Paranoid: Wait a second. It's 11:30 and he's just now getting home? Where has he been? I bet he was at Hoochie's house all night! I bet those beads of sweat are from--
Overly Analytical: Dude, don't go there. We do not need to be adding to her inferiority complex. He was probably out with some friends and then went to the gym.
Shy: Yeah, it's hard enough just standing out here and talking to him. Don't put ideas in her head.
Me: Oh, just to hang out with some friends. It was my friend's boyfriend's birthday, so we all got together.
Single Girl: Why are you still standing on your steps? Go over there!
Inner Mom Voice: No, he should be coming over HERE. You are worth some effort. Don't make a fool of yourself, wandering across the yards to go talk to him. And stand up straight.
Cynical: Excellent flirting. Maybe you can go down the list of what he got for his birthday. That's hot. He'll totally ask you out if your friend got cool stuff for his birthday.
Me: Yeah, he got a grill and an apron and...
The Voices: SHUT UP! What are you doing????
HN: Oh. That's great! Did you guys go out to eat, or...?
Me: Yeah, well, they did. I got there too late. But we had fun. *smiles*
Cynical: OMG, it's 11:30pm and you two happen to run into each other, and THIS is all he can think to talk about?? Wake me up when he's asked you out. *snores*
Panic: Dude, this is not going well. Abort!
Good Point: No, Hot Neighbor needs to step up to the plate and see what you're doing on Friday night. This small talk is just wasting everyone's time.
The Voices nod in agreement. "Wait, why are we out here?" someone asks.
HN: *just kind of stands there*
Panic: RUN!!!!!
Me: Ok, well, have a good night! *runs inside*
I shut the door behind me. Sammy greets me. He has no idea how pathetic his owner is, so he wags his little tail stump in approval.
Shy: Oh, thank God. It is so good to be safe and inside.
Cynical: Another fabulous performance. Way to go.
Single Girl: You are dead to me.
Horny and Pervert are kicking Panic and shouting, "Stop doing that! Stop doing that! You ruin it every time!!!" Panic is on the ground, rolling in agony from the pain of their pointy shoes.
Stupidly Optimistic: Maybe he'll come over and knock on the door and ask you out!!
Cynical: Are you high? She just blew him off.
Practical: Well, really, what was the point? He wasn't going to cut to the chase.
Impatient: It's 11:30. Some of us have to work in the morning. We can't go over every detail of the evening, hoping he'll ask us out sometime before 3am.
Overly Analytical: You know, you've really got to get over this fear of dating or you really will be alone forever.
Me: *sighs* I know.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Almost Girl Strikes Again!
DING-DONG.
I open the door. It's Hot Neighbor.
"Thank effing God you did your hair today," says Single Girl.
"AND you're wearing a top that makes your boobs look good!" says Pervert.
"Good job! Because he's here to ask you out!!!" shouts Stupidly Optimistic.
"Yeah, right. Didn't you see how Hoochie McSkankerton and her little blue convertible were camped out at his house ALL DAY today? Exactly how stupid are you? They probably spent the whole day in bed, which is why they ordered a pizza instead of going out to eat. He probably wants to ask you about something neighborly," retorts Cynical.
"Hi," I say.
"Hey," says Hot Neighbor. He looks hot. Obviously.
Then he sort of mumbles something along the lines of, "I need to ask you something...I was wondering if you'd ever want to go to church or dinner sometime...with me..."
"Church??!" shout all the Voices in chorus, utterly confused.
"Who cares about that. We need to know the Hoochie status," states Practical, flatly.
"Um, wouldn't your girlfriend get kind of upset about that?" I ask.
"Oh, who cares about her? There's no rings on any fingers. Jeez, will you let the man ask you out?" says Inner Mom Voice.
"Oh. Um, well, it's not really like that. She's not my girlfriend. She and I are kind of....pulling apart," he explains. I have caught him off-guard. His face is red now. Too cute.
"Pulling apart? What, like dinner rolls? WTF does that mean? Six months into something, you're either together or you're not," says Good Point.
"Obviously, this means they're not! Now, squish your boobs together!" shouts Single Girl.
"Oh. Ok," I reply.
The Voices are cheering and doing cartwheels. There are rumors of a party being planned in my honor. The phrase "ice sculpture" was mentioned, and then vetoed.
"See?! I knew that stupid Hoochie McSkankerton wouldn't last!" exclaims Stupidly Optimistic.
"Yeah, she looks like a South Beach hooker!" blurts Gossipy.
Hot Neighbor continues: "I mean, if my status with her ever changed or anything, I would definitely let you know...just like if our status ever changed, I would let her know. I mean, can't a guy and a girl just hang out as friends?" Hot Neighbor mumbled.
[Insert that party-interrupting record-scratch sound often heard in awkward movie scenes here.]
"WTF does that mean????" shout all the Voices together.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" says Space Cadet. "I was still thinking about how Hoochie looks like a stripper."
"Aha! Did you hear that? 'Friends.' I knew it. He wants you to give him advice on how to mend his relationship with his girlfriend. He wants a shoulder to cry on. And you're going to do it, because you're a big fat sucker," says Cynical, snidely.
I have no idea what to say. Friends? Status? Huh?
The Voices go into overdrive.
"Is he asking you out? Because you don't have any plans next weekend, " says Single Girl.
"It sounded like it, didn't it?!" shrieks Stupidly Optimistic.
"Or is he lonely?" wonders Overly Analytical.
"Is he looking for a re-bound? Because we might want to go for this idea," says Horny.
"OMG, does he want a threesome or something???!!!" squeals Pervert.
"Dude, SO not happening," states Prisspot.
"That's it! He just said it! You're in The Friend Zone (TFZ). Because really, there's no way he's actually asking you out right now." states Pessimistically Paranoid.
"Does he honestly think you are unaware of Hoochie & her weekend sleepovers? Is he trying to pull a fast one on his girlfriend? Or have his cake and eat it, too? Who the hell does this guy think he is?" huffs Bitch Mode.
"Easy, Bitch Mode," warns Logical.
Obviously, my brain was rapidly approaching system overload. I cannot think of what to say. Did this guy just admit that he is currently with her........or not? And does he want to date me....or not? Is he saying he wants a "trial" date or something? This is all very strange. I have never been asked out by a guy who admits to still having a girlfriend. Usually, it's single guys who ask me out. Go figure. I guess I have to give him points for being honest, right?
Luckily, he keeps talking:
"I mean, I know you aren't from here, and you don't know a ton of people, so I thought that well, we could hang out sometime, I mean, we live right next to each other and we don't know each other that well...." he trails off.
I am still dumbfounded.
"I cook!" Hot Neighbor declares, lighting up. This made me giggle.
"Ok, sounds good," I said as I smiled.
"Alright, well, don't be surprised if I knock on your door sometime to see if you want to grab some dinner," he said.
"Ok, I'd like that," I said.
He says goodbye and walks back to his house. I'm standing there, absorbing all of this, with my door open.
Good Point asks, "Wait, he never actually made a date, did he? Does this mean you're Almost Girl again?"
The Voices all groan together, "Oh no! Not 'Almost Girl'!!!! Not again!!"
And that's when both my dogs flew out the door. Great.
I have no shoes on. Great.
Hot Neighbor has his sprinkler going. My dogs make a beeline for it. They will be wet. Great.
Actually, it ended up being good, because Hot Neighbor and I talked for another 5 minutes while he helped me corral my dogs and get them back inside.
No, not like that. Don't get all Stupidly Optimistic on me. Just small talk. Then I got my dogs and went inside.
Remember, he didn't actually ask me out. He ALMOST did.
This guy is trying to date two girls at the same time. I think. Or else he's stringing along his ex while he decides if he wants to date me instead. Like I'm his backup plan or something. He won't let Hoochie go until he's sure he wants to be with me. And I'm not quite sure how I feel about that.
At least, I think that's what's going on.
For the first time, I actually feel sorry for Hoochie.
So, what do you think? Did he ask me out or not? Why didn't he set a date? Do you really think Hoochie McSkankerton is totally out of the picture? If so, then why has she been over almost every day for the past week--even seemingly spending the night? She must have a key, because she's been inside his house, waiting for him to get home from work a couple of times. I mean, she's obviously still in the picture. Am I in TFZ?
More importantly, why am I not excited about any of this? I have had a crush on him for so long, but now that it has seemingly happened (both MJ & KT think he just asked me out on a date), I don't even have butterflies or feel excited. I think it's because I'm sketched out by the girlfriend. If he's still with her in any way, I just don't know how I feel about that. I am really not up for being part of Hot Neighbor's harem or being The Other Woman or anything like that. I'm not saying that I need to have him all to myself, but he needs to be fair to both of us. Which, I guess he just said he would do....ugh, I am TOTALLY confused!!!
And is it bad that I think less of him for not just making a clean break with her? I mean, if it's not working, be a man and break up with her officially, you know? If he's sleeping with her, I would NOT feel right going out with him. AT ALL. I just don't think that would be right. Besides, if she's as possessive as NS says, she's probably a psycho, too. And I definitely prefer my life to be drama-free.
I need help, people. Ugh, I HATE being Almost Girl!!!
I open the door. It's Hot Neighbor.
"Thank effing God you did your hair today," says Single Girl.
"AND you're wearing a top that makes your boobs look good!" says Pervert.
"Good job! Because he's here to ask you out!!!" shouts Stupidly Optimistic.
"Yeah, right. Didn't you see how Hoochie McSkankerton and her little blue convertible were camped out at his house ALL DAY today? Exactly how stupid are you? They probably spent the whole day in bed, which is why they ordered a pizza instead of going out to eat. He probably wants to ask you about something neighborly," retorts Cynical.
"Hi," I say.
"Hey," says Hot Neighbor. He looks hot. Obviously.
Then he sort of mumbles something along the lines of, "I need to ask you something...I was wondering if you'd ever want to go to church or dinner sometime...with me..."
"Church??!" shout all the Voices in chorus, utterly confused.
"Who cares about that. We need to know the Hoochie status," states Practical, flatly.
"Um, wouldn't your girlfriend get kind of upset about that?" I ask.
"Oh, who cares about her? There's no rings on any fingers. Jeez, will you let the man ask you out?" says Inner Mom Voice.
"Oh. Um, well, it's not really like that. She's not my girlfriend. She and I are kind of....pulling apart," he explains. I have caught him off-guard. His face is red now. Too cute.
"Pulling apart? What, like dinner rolls? WTF does that mean? Six months into something, you're either together or you're not," says Good Point.
"Obviously, this means they're not! Now, squish your boobs together!" shouts Single Girl.
"Oh. Ok," I reply.
The Voices are cheering and doing cartwheels. There are rumors of a party being planned in my honor. The phrase "ice sculpture" was mentioned, and then vetoed.
"See?! I knew that stupid Hoochie McSkankerton wouldn't last!" exclaims Stupidly Optimistic.
"Yeah, she looks like a South Beach hooker!" blurts Gossipy.
Hot Neighbor continues: "I mean, if my status with her ever changed or anything, I would definitely let you know...just like if our status ever changed, I would let her know. I mean, can't a guy and a girl just hang out as friends?" Hot Neighbor mumbled.
[Insert that party-interrupting record-scratch sound often heard in awkward movie scenes here.]
"WTF does that mean????" shout all the Voices together.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" says Space Cadet. "I was still thinking about how Hoochie looks like a stripper."
"Aha! Did you hear that? 'Friends.' I knew it. He wants you to give him advice on how to mend his relationship with his girlfriend. He wants a shoulder to cry on. And you're going to do it, because you're a big fat sucker," says Cynical, snidely.
I have no idea what to say. Friends? Status? Huh?
The Voices go into overdrive.
"Is he asking you out? Because you don't have any plans next weekend, " says Single Girl.
"It sounded like it, didn't it?!" shrieks Stupidly Optimistic.
"Or is he lonely?" wonders Overly Analytical.
"Is he looking for a re-bound? Because we might want to go for this idea," says Horny.
"OMG, does he want a threesome or something???!!!" squeals Pervert.
"Dude, SO not happening," states Prisspot.
"That's it! He just said it! You're in The Friend Zone (TFZ). Because really, there's no way he's actually asking you out right now." states Pessimistically Paranoid.
"Does he honestly think you are unaware of Hoochie & her weekend sleepovers? Is he trying to pull a fast one on his girlfriend? Or have his cake and eat it, too? Who the hell does this guy think he is?" huffs Bitch Mode.
"Easy, Bitch Mode," warns Logical.
Obviously, my brain was rapidly approaching system overload. I cannot think of what to say. Did this guy just admit that he is currently with her........or not? And does he want to date me....or not? Is he saying he wants a "trial" date or something? This is all very strange. I have never been asked out by a guy who admits to still having a girlfriend. Usually, it's single guys who ask me out. Go figure. I guess I have to give him points for being honest, right?
Luckily, he keeps talking:
"I mean, I know you aren't from here, and you don't know a ton of people, so I thought that well, we could hang out sometime, I mean, we live right next to each other and we don't know each other that well...." he trails off.
I am still dumbfounded.
"I cook!" Hot Neighbor declares, lighting up. This made me giggle.
"Ok, sounds good," I said as I smiled.
"Alright, well, don't be surprised if I knock on your door sometime to see if you want to grab some dinner," he said.
"Ok, I'd like that," I said.
He says goodbye and walks back to his house. I'm standing there, absorbing all of this, with my door open.
Good Point asks, "Wait, he never actually made a date, did he? Does this mean you're Almost Girl again?"
The Voices all groan together, "Oh no! Not 'Almost Girl'!!!! Not again!!"
And that's when both my dogs flew out the door. Great.
I have no shoes on. Great.
Hot Neighbor has his sprinkler going. My dogs make a beeline for it. They will be wet. Great.
Actually, it ended up being good, because Hot Neighbor and I talked for another 5 minutes while he helped me corral my dogs and get them back inside.
No, not like that. Don't get all Stupidly Optimistic on me. Just small talk. Then I got my dogs and went inside.
Remember, he didn't actually ask me out. He ALMOST did.
This guy is trying to date two girls at the same time. I think. Or else he's stringing along his ex while he decides if he wants to date me instead. Like I'm his backup plan or something. He won't let Hoochie go until he's sure he wants to be with me. And I'm not quite sure how I feel about that.
At least, I think that's what's going on.
For the first time, I actually feel sorry for Hoochie.
So, what do you think? Did he ask me out or not? Why didn't he set a date? Do you really think Hoochie McSkankerton is totally out of the picture? If so, then why has she been over almost every day for the past week--even seemingly spending the night? She must have a key, because she's been inside his house, waiting for him to get home from work a couple of times. I mean, she's obviously still in the picture. Am I in TFZ?
More importantly, why am I not excited about any of this? I have had a crush on him for so long, but now that it has seemingly happened (both MJ & KT think he just asked me out on a date), I don't even have butterflies or feel excited. I think it's because I'm sketched out by the girlfriend. If he's still with her in any way, I just don't know how I feel about that. I am really not up for being part of Hot Neighbor's harem or being The Other Woman or anything like that. I'm not saying that I need to have him all to myself, but he needs to be fair to both of us. Which, I guess he just said he would do....ugh, I am TOTALLY confused!!!
And is it bad that I think less of him for not just making a clean break with her? I mean, if it's not working, be a man and break up with her officially, you know? If he's sleeping with her, I would NOT feel right going out with him. AT ALL. I just don't think that would be right. Besides, if she's as possessive as NS says, she's probably a psycho, too. And I definitely prefer my life to be drama-free.
I need help, people. Ugh, I HATE being Almost Girl!!!
Thursday, July 26, 2007
I Can't Take It Anymore!
Dear readers, I am apologizing in advance for this post. If you've ever wanted to skip one of my posts, this is the time to do so. This post is total crap. I have been bored stupid all day, I got no sleep last night and I have been reading blogs almost the whole day (not that your blog is boring!), and my brain is FULL of thoughts, post ideas and expansions on comments I've been sprinkling all over the blogosphere. It's causing me to have yet another Conversation with My Brain.
"Ooh! That post you just read brings up that time from your childhood when The Czarina..." says ADD. [She sounds a little like the Band Camp Girl from American Pie. Can you tell?]
"Yes, but--" interrupts The Responsible Blog Writer.
"Omigod! We should blog about this! Right now! Log in, quick!" says ADD, giddily.
"Stoppit! That's not enough for a whole post! Keep it to yourself for now. Let it marinate for a bit, and one day, you'll be able to write a whole post about it. Something timely, concise and well-constructed. Wait for it to happen naturally!" continues The Responsible Blog Writer.
[whining like a 4 year old] "But...I'll forgeeeeeeeeeeeet! We have to type it nooooooooow!" laments ADD. She stomps her feet in indignation.
"Your posts practically give people motion sickness, what with all your randomness. Can you focus the post this time? Or is it going to be another one of your 'organized' lists of total and sheer absurdity?" asks The Responsible Blog Writer, sneeringly.
"It will be good, I promise!!!!" exclaims ADD, her eyes growing large and pleading. She folds her hands together, almost as if praying.
"Ok, fine. You lucked out, because I'm exhausted today. I don't have the energy to argue with you." sighed The Responsible Blog Writer.
"Is that because you stayed up late, kissing that guy?" asks ADD.
"Yeah! And it was awesome!" blurts Horny.
"Shhhhh! Don't kiss and tell! You've got to stop doing that!" hisses Single Girl.
"But that's all the fun," says Pervert, with a confused expression on his face.
"Can I start now? Pleeeeaaaase?" begs ADD.
"Yes, please, before The Readers start asking you about this guy and more nosy questions about your underwear!" says Single Girl.
"Ooh! That post you just read brings up that time from your childhood when The Czarina..." says ADD. [She sounds a little like the Band Camp Girl from American Pie. Can you tell?]
"Yes, but--" interrupts The Responsible Blog Writer.
"Omigod! We should blog about this! Right now! Log in, quick!" says ADD, giddily.
"Stoppit! That's not enough for a whole post! Keep it to yourself for now. Let it marinate for a bit, and one day, you'll be able to write a whole post about it. Something timely, concise and well-constructed. Wait for it to happen naturally!" continues The Responsible Blog Writer.
[whining like a 4 year old] "But...I'll forgeeeeeeeeeeeet! We have to type it nooooooooow!" laments ADD. She stomps her feet in indignation.
"Your posts practically give people motion sickness, what with all your randomness. Can you focus the post this time? Or is it going to be another one of your 'organized' lists of total and sheer absurdity?" asks The Responsible Blog Writer, sneeringly.
"It will be good, I promise!!!!" exclaims ADD, her eyes growing large and pleading. She folds her hands together, almost as if praying.
"Ok, fine. You lucked out, because I'm exhausted today. I don't have the energy to argue with you." sighed The Responsible Blog Writer.
"Is that because you stayed up late, kissing that guy?" asks ADD.
"Yeah! And it was awesome!" blurts Horny.
"Shhhhh! Don't kiss and tell! You've got to stop doing that!" hisses Single Girl.
"But that's all the fun," says Pervert, with a confused expression on his face.
"Can I start now? Pleeeeaaaase?" begs ADD.
"Yes, please, before The Readers start asking you about this guy and more nosy questions about your underwear!" says Single Girl.
ADD's Random Thoughts of the Day
1. I need help with this, readers. I need your advice. I try and read all the blogs I can (if you have ever left a comment on my blog, you're on my list of blogs! I'm at about 100), but sometimes I am woefully behind. Sometimes, I get so behind, I'm too mortified to even come back and catch up. I don't want to be a slave to blog reading (I am a real person with a real life), but I also don't want to offend by taking more than I give. Or whatever. You know what I mean. I feel an absurd amount of guilt over this. Thoughts on this? Opinions? Tips for me? WHAT DO I DO???
2. Teahouse Blossom is engaged and is trying hard not to be a Bridezilla. [insert standing ovation here.] I have been thinking that it's weird how nowadays, people seem to put more effort and time into having the perfect wedding than they do making sure they're marrying the right spouse. Seems kind of silly, huh? I have an engaged couple in mind, actually, as I type this. They have no business getting married. It will be one of those weddings where people will secretly whisper jokes about taking bets for when the divorce will happen. (Ok, I know it's no laughing matter...) And their friends are powerless to do anything, for fear of ruining the friendship. Man, I hope I'm never a member of a couple like that.....
3. The Czarina thinks I am going to be wearing her wedding dress when (if?) I get married. Little does she know that I think her wedding photos look like a lace factory barfed all over her. Then, after the lace-barf dried and stuck to her skin, the Industrial-Strength Rubberband Ninja attacked her, clamping her at the neck and wrists, ensuring that the lace-barf will not only cover every inch of her body, but it will also cling to her all day. I can't tell her about the lace-barf, because it will break her heart. She thinks the dress is gorgeous. *gags*
4. Aside from eloping, my only solution to this problem is to try and gain lots of weight the second I'm engaged, thereby rendering the dress uselessly too small. Sweet! Except that I don't want to be Fat Bride VB. It's not like I can tape a sign on my ass as I walk down the aisle that reads: "I only gained all this weight so I wouldn't have to wear the lace-barf dress. I hope you understand. Please try and take all photos from a flattering angle. Thank you."
5. Of course, I could try and alter my grandmother's dress. It's a 1940s pale blue satin dress--MUCH more my style. The gigantic shoulder pads and long sleeves will have to go. And somehow, I will have to shrink 4 inches (The Czarina's mother was a short, bosomy German spark plug of a woman)....oh dear. Maybe I can add some sort of trim to the bottom? Or insert a panel in the waist, thereby making the skirt longer? Ugh. Why in Holy Hell am I even talking about this??
6. I have recently learned about Couch Surfing. If this doesn't show the kindness of strangers, I don't know what does. It's incredible to me, sometimes, how much we CAN still trust strangers.
7. What is my favorite thing about blogging? Reading other people's blogs. It is the box 'o chocolates of the Internet. You never know what people will write about! Today I read posts on dogfighting, snot, burying ashes of loved ones and arguments with neighbors. I even got a potato soup recipe. I love it! We are all out there, interpreting our worlds, sharing our experiences and exposing our humanity for all to see. *sigh*
[Apparently, Cynical has the day off. In her place is Idealistic, a part-time Voice who fills in from time to time. She keeps applying for a full time position, but the other Voices cannot stand her touchy-feeliness, and unanimously veto all plans to adopt her into their collective existence.]
8. Do you believe in the Law of Threes? It's that little adage which states that good things and bad things happen in sets of three. I'm starting to think I do. Then again, I'm kind of superstitious. In the last 24 hours, look at what has happened to me: I got an unexpected check in the mail (WOOT!!!), E said she is seriously considering moving in with me and Netflix announced that it's lowering my subscription rates. Ok, I know it's kind of weak, but funny how suddenly the Universe wants to see my bank account do a little better. Unfortunately, now I'm worried that three bad things will happen to me tomorrow....
9. This past weekend, MJ and I saw a foreign film. (Why are people always so surprised to learn that I like "artsy" and "foreign" films?? Jeez, am I that vanilla? I do like culture, people!) Anyway, it was a French film called Private Fears in Public Places. After the movie, we discussed our reactions to the movie and hypothesized about its meaning and message. I think it's about the problems which can result from hiding your true self to others. But I'm sure there are many other interpretations. The acting is very good, and it's set in Paris, so if you're interested in a thought-provoking movie....
~~~~~~~
There. I feel better now. Thank you for letting me ramble and go all over the place. *breathes sigh of relief.* All that stuff was just up in my brain, accumulating. Had to get it out.
What is wrong with me today? I am a crackhead. I am so sorry. I need sleep. Also, I have medicine head, thanks to my sinus infection.
2. Teahouse Blossom is engaged and is trying hard not to be a Bridezilla. [insert standing ovation here.] I have been thinking that it's weird how nowadays, people seem to put more effort and time into having the perfect wedding than they do making sure they're marrying the right spouse. Seems kind of silly, huh? I have an engaged couple in mind, actually, as I type this. They have no business getting married. It will be one of those weddings where people will secretly whisper jokes about taking bets for when the divorce will happen. (Ok, I know it's no laughing matter...) And their friends are powerless to do anything, for fear of ruining the friendship. Man, I hope I'm never a member of a couple like that.....
3. The Czarina thinks I am going to be wearing her wedding dress when (if?) I get married. Little does she know that I think her wedding photos look like a lace factory barfed all over her. Then, after the lace-barf dried and stuck to her skin, the Industrial-Strength Rubberband Ninja attacked her, clamping her at the neck and wrists, ensuring that the lace-barf will not only cover every inch of her body, but it will also cling to her all day. I can't tell her about the lace-barf, because it will break her heart. She thinks the dress is gorgeous. *gags*
4. Aside from eloping, my only solution to this problem is to try and gain lots of weight the second I'm engaged, thereby rendering the dress uselessly too small. Sweet! Except that I don't want to be Fat Bride VB. It's not like I can tape a sign on my ass as I walk down the aisle that reads: "I only gained all this weight so I wouldn't have to wear the lace-barf dress. I hope you understand. Please try and take all photos from a flattering angle. Thank you."
5. Of course, I could try and alter my grandmother's dress. It's a 1940s pale blue satin dress--MUCH more my style. The gigantic shoulder pads and long sleeves will have to go. And somehow, I will have to shrink 4 inches (The Czarina's mother was a short, bosomy German spark plug of a woman)....oh dear. Maybe I can add some sort of trim to the bottom? Or insert a panel in the waist, thereby making the skirt longer? Ugh. Why in Holy Hell am I even talking about this??
6. I have recently learned about Couch Surfing. If this doesn't show the kindness of strangers, I don't know what does. It's incredible to me, sometimes, how much we CAN still trust strangers.
7. What is my favorite thing about blogging? Reading other people's blogs. It is the box 'o chocolates of the Internet. You never know what people will write about! Today I read posts on dogfighting, snot, burying ashes of loved ones and arguments with neighbors. I even got a potato soup recipe. I love it! We are all out there, interpreting our worlds, sharing our experiences and exposing our humanity for all to see. *sigh*
[Apparently, Cynical has the day off. In her place is Idealistic, a part-time Voice who fills in from time to time. She keeps applying for a full time position, but the other Voices cannot stand her touchy-feeliness, and unanimously veto all plans to adopt her into their collective existence.]
8. Do you believe in the Law of Threes? It's that little adage which states that good things and bad things happen in sets of three. I'm starting to think I do. Then again, I'm kind of superstitious. In the last 24 hours, look at what has happened to me: I got an unexpected check in the mail (WOOT!!!), E said she is seriously considering moving in with me and Netflix announced that it's lowering my subscription rates. Ok, I know it's kind of weak, but funny how suddenly the Universe wants to see my bank account do a little better. Unfortunately, now I'm worried that three bad things will happen to me tomorrow....
9. This past weekend, MJ and I saw a foreign film. (Why are people always so surprised to learn that I like "artsy" and "foreign" films?? Jeez, am I that vanilla? I do like culture, people!) Anyway, it was a French film called Private Fears in Public Places. After the movie, we discussed our reactions to the movie and hypothesized about its meaning and message. I think it's about the problems which can result from hiding your true self to others. But I'm sure there are many other interpretations. The acting is very good, and it's set in Paris, so if you're interested in a thought-provoking movie....
~~~~~~~
There. I feel better now. Thank you for letting me ramble and go all over the place. *breathes sigh of relief.* All that stuff was just up in my brain, accumulating. Had to get it out.
What is wrong with me today? I am a crackhead. I am so sorry. I need sleep. Also, I have medicine head, thanks to my sinus infection.
Monday, July 23, 2007
*gulp!* Another Conversation with My Brain
Since MJ is doing the next installment of our NYC trip, I will let you skedaddle on over there for more NYC stories.
That way, I can give you the small update about my love life. Yes, it's true. I have an update.
I took the dogs for a short run at the park yesterday. I was kinda sweaty, but realized I needed to do some yard work. "No time like the present," said Little Miss Productive, "You might as well do it now before it gets too hot."
So I was in my front yard yesterday, doing some weeding and watering. "Pee Yoo! I stink!" I thought.
"Just finish up this little bit of weeding, and then you can go inside and take a shower," Little Miss Productive urged.
"But I'm stinky and hungry! And my fingernails are all green!" whined Prisspot.
I went back to weeding. Who appeared out of nowhere???
Cute Neighbor.
"See??!! I told you we should have taken a shower! Now you're stinky! And your makeup has slid off of your face. Stay far away from him so he won't smell your stanky swamp ass!" Prisspot said.
Cute Neighbor and I made some small talk in my front yard. I asked about his dad, he asked about my trip to NYC & Vermont. Yadda yadda. We talked for probably a half hour.
"Ok, this is going pretty good," said Stupidly Optimistic.
"Except for the fact that you currently smell like a buffalo," retorted Pessimistically Paranoid.
"I told you!" shrieked Prisspot.
This conversation with my brain was suddenly interrupted by Cute Neighbor, who was explaining to me how he still had some of the cookies left from when I brought him a plate the other day. "Yeah, I keep them in the fridge so they don't go stale. I eat one per day."
"Wow, that's totally something we would do," said Nerd.
"No it isn't. You could never eat one cookie per day. You'd scarf those puppies down so fast it would make anyone's head swim. What planet are you on, lady?" said Good Point.
"Oops. He's still talking. Pay attention!" said Space Cadet.
Cute Neighbor went on: "Yeah, those cookies are really good. I need to take you out to dinner sometime to thank you for making me all these cookies."
"WHAT?!" screamed Panic.
"Holy Shit! Is that a date??" exclaimed Single Girl.
"You go, girl! Project Cookie Seduction worked!" said Confident.
"OMG, this is a horrible, horrible idea. This will never work. You can't go out with your neighbor. No digging in your own backyard!" said Pessimistically Paranoid.
"This! Is! Awesome! You're going to have such a nice time! He's a super nice guy! And you're a super nice girl! Let's do cartwheels!" squealed Stupidly Optimistic.
"Wait....did he even just ask you on a date? Because that could be interpreted several ways," cautioned Cynical.
"No, that was totally an ask-out! Wheeeee!" said Stupidly Optimistic. [Stupidly Optimistic does cartwheels with Space Cadet.]
"Ooh! Maybe we should go shopping. You need to make sure you wear something devastating. And do your hair," said Single Girl.
"Yes, please do your hair. It looks so awful when you just let it hang there. Kind of like how it is right now," said Inner Mom Voice.
"Um, ok, he hasn't exactly picked a time and a place, people. Also, he's waiting for an answer. Hello??" said Good Point.
"What? Sorry. I was thinking about lunch," said Space Cadet.
"We need to respond to his statement in some way that indicates interest," said Good Point.
"NO! No reply! Let's just pretend we didn't hear him and hurriedly go back inside! Run! Before it's too late!" shouted Panic. "We can't go on a date! We haven't been on a good date in....shit, a really long-ass time. We're fine just how we are right now. Why mess that up??"
"Look, Panic. Just because we are all terrified of dating in any way, shape or form doesn't mean we have to spend the rest of our lives sleeping alone. Eventually, we are going to have to go on a date again. And eventually, there may even be emotional investment. Not necessarily with this guy, but it will happen. You are going to have to just deal with your fears, and not at the expense of potential happiness, either. I swear, if you don't knock it off with this self-destructive mentality...." said Overly Analytical.
"But it's just going to happen again! The last guy seemed nice at first, too! And look what happened! It's just easier to stay single and alone!" cried Panic.
"Panic's bringing up good points," added Pessimistically Paranoid. Cynical nodded in agreement. "Maybe this is a bad idea."
"Speak for yourselves. We're broke and could use the free dinner," said Cheapskate.
"Um, Pervert and I have a question," interrupted Horny, nervously. "Is there going to be any potential for smooches on this supposed date?"
"NO!!!!" shouted Paranoid, Single Girl and Cynical.
"How about ass-grabbing?" asked Pervert.
"Definitely NOT!!!!" yelled Shy and Inner Mom Voice.
"People. You are worrying about future details. If we don't respond in some way to this, the whole dumb date won't even happen at all. Can we get our act together and give him some kind of reaction?" said Good Point.
[For some unknown and highly arbitrary reason, Shy was nominated to speak for all the Voices in response to this statement from Cute Neighbor.]
"Oh. Uh. Ok. Sounds good," stammered Shy.
*All the Voices roll their eyes.*
I talked to Cute Neighbor for a couple more minutes. He left without making any specific plans.
"Can we take a shower now? I'm icky!" whined Prisspot.
"See???? I told you there's no way he'd actually be asking you out! He was just making small talk." said Pessimistically Paranoid.
"That's ok, he will! Maybe he'll come over tomorrow!" said Stupidly Optimistic.
"Tomorrow???!!!! Oh no!!!!!!" said Panic.
....and that's why it's now 1pm and I still haven't gone to lunch. Cute Neighbor works from home. He will be there. Right near my house, when I'm munching on my sandwich. He might want to talk to me. Ugh. WHY am I so petrified at the concept of going on a date???? We are way past nervous butterflies here, people. I'm totally panicking at the notion of going on a date. I need some reassurance. Or drugs. Something. Help!!!!
That way, I can give you the small update about my love life. Yes, it's true. I have an update.
I took the dogs for a short run at the park yesterday. I was kinda sweaty, but realized I needed to do some yard work. "No time like the present," said Little Miss Productive, "You might as well do it now before it gets too hot."
So I was in my front yard yesterday, doing some weeding and watering. "Pee Yoo! I stink!" I thought.
"Just finish up this little bit of weeding, and then you can go inside and take a shower," Little Miss Productive urged.
"But I'm stinky and hungry! And my fingernails are all green!" whined Prisspot.
I went back to weeding. Who appeared out of nowhere???
Cute Neighbor.
"See??!! I told you we should have taken a shower! Now you're stinky! And your makeup has slid off of your face. Stay far away from him so he won't smell your stanky swamp ass!" Prisspot said.
Cute Neighbor and I made some small talk in my front yard. I asked about his dad, he asked about my trip to NYC & Vermont. Yadda yadda. We talked for probably a half hour.
"Ok, this is going pretty good," said Stupidly Optimistic.
"Except for the fact that you currently smell like a buffalo," retorted Pessimistically Paranoid.
"I told you!" shrieked Prisspot.
This conversation with my brain was suddenly interrupted by Cute Neighbor, who was explaining to me how he still had some of the cookies left from when I brought him a plate the other day. "Yeah, I keep them in the fridge so they don't go stale. I eat one per day."
"Wow, that's totally something we would do," said Nerd.
"No it isn't. You could never eat one cookie per day. You'd scarf those puppies down so fast it would make anyone's head swim. What planet are you on, lady?" said Good Point.
"Oops. He's still talking. Pay attention!" said Space Cadet.
Cute Neighbor went on: "Yeah, those cookies are really good. I need to take you out to dinner sometime to thank you for making me all these cookies."
"WHAT?!" screamed Panic.
"Holy Shit! Is that a date??" exclaimed Single Girl.
"You go, girl! Project Cookie Seduction worked!" said Confident.
"OMG, this is a horrible, horrible idea. This will never work. You can't go out with your neighbor. No digging in your own backyard!" said Pessimistically Paranoid.
"This! Is! Awesome! You're going to have such a nice time! He's a super nice guy! And you're a super nice girl! Let's do cartwheels!" squealed Stupidly Optimistic.
"Wait....did he even just ask you on a date? Because that could be interpreted several ways," cautioned Cynical.
"No, that was totally an ask-out! Wheeeee!" said Stupidly Optimistic. [Stupidly Optimistic does cartwheels with Space Cadet.]
"Ooh! Maybe we should go shopping. You need to make sure you wear something devastating. And do your hair," said Single Girl.
"Yes, please do your hair. It looks so awful when you just let it hang there. Kind of like how it is right now," said Inner Mom Voice.
"Um, ok, he hasn't exactly picked a time and a place, people. Also, he's waiting for an answer. Hello??" said Good Point.
"What? Sorry. I was thinking about lunch," said Space Cadet.
"We need to respond to his statement in some way that indicates interest," said Good Point.
"NO! No reply! Let's just pretend we didn't hear him and hurriedly go back inside! Run! Before it's too late!" shouted Panic. "We can't go on a date! We haven't been on a good date in....shit, a really long-ass time. We're fine just how we are right now. Why mess that up??"
"Look, Panic. Just because we are all terrified of dating in any way, shape or form doesn't mean we have to spend the rest of our lives sleeping alone. Eventually, we are going to have to go on a date again. And eventually, there may even be emotional investment. Not necessarily with this guy, but it will happen. You are going to have to just deal with your fears, and not at the expense of potential happiness, either. I swear, if you don't knock it off with this self-destructive mentality...." said Overly Analytical.
"But it's just going to happen again! The last guy seemed nice at first, too! And look what happened! It's just easier to stay single and alone!" cried Panic.
"Panic's bringing up good points," added Pessimistically Paranoid. Cynical nodded in agreement. "Maybe this is a bad idea."
"Speak for yourselves. We're broke and could use the free dinner," said Cheapskate.
"Um, Pervert and I have a question," interrupted Horny, nervously. "Is there going to be any potential for smooches on this supposed date?"
"NO!!!!" shouted Paranoid, Single Girl and Cynical.
"How about ass-grabbing?" asked Pervert.
"Definitely NOT!!!!" yelled Shy and Inner Mom Voice.
"People. You are worrying about future details. If we don't respond in some way to this, the whole dumb date won't even happen at all. Can we get our act together and give him some kind of reaction?" said Good Point.
[For some unknown and highly arbitrary reason, Shy was nominated to speak for all the Voices in response to this statement from Cute Neighbor.]
"Oh. Uh. Ok. Sounds good," stammered Shy.
*All the Voices roll their eyes.*
I talked to Cute Neighbor for a couple more minutes. He left without making any specific plans.
"Can we take a shower now? I'm icky!" whined Prisspot.
"See???? I told you there's no way he'd actually be asking you out! He was just making small talk." said Pessimistically Paranoid.
"That's ok, he will! Maybe he'll come over tomorrow!" said Stupidly Optimistic.
"Tomorrow???!!!! Oh no!!!!!!" said Panic.
....and that's why it's now 1pm and I still haven't gone to lunch. Cute Neighbor works from home. He will be there. Right near my house, when I'm munching on my sandwich. He might want to talk to me. Ugh. WHY am I so petrified at the concept of going on a date???? We are way past nervous butterflies here, people. I'm totally panicking at the notion of going on a date. I need some reassurance. Or drugs. Something. Help!!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
