Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Friday, May 26, 2006
I really hated to do it, but when Netflix asked what we thought of our recently returned movie War of the Worlds I had to click "no opinion".
By no opinion, I meant that embarrassingly enough this movie sat in a drawer for 2 or 3 months and we still couldn't convince ourselves that it was worth watching, yet we thought someday we might possibly be in the mood for it. And now it's on cable, anyway. So for the first time ever, I sent a movie back without watching it. So that was a waste, but hey - no late fees, eh?
Other movies that were close to sharing the same fate, but eventually did get watched were The Day After Tomorrow and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory which were both pretty disappointing - well, maybe not disappointing since we didn't have that high of hopes for them anyway. But we at least reluctantly gave ourselves the "let's just watch the fucking movie and get it over with" pep talk those times.
Yes, I am aware that you choose the movies that they send you.
Uh oh, folks. I'm feeling sappy and hormonal today, but I just gotta say something. So I'll just say it and then we won't have to be embarrassed* or bring it up again. It's just... damnit, I LOVE you women bloggers**! Aww, shucks. I know I don't really know you, but when I read your words sometimes I feel like I do. I find myself saying "Yes! Exactly!" or even at times getting a bit teary-eyed. I feel happy for you when things are going well, and I want to be there for you when they're not. When we share things with each other, I feel this bond that's been painfully missing from my real, day to day life. Sometimes your emails remind me of the special feeling I'd get when being passed a carefully folded note that reads "For your eyes only!" and that just totally brightens my day. Ya see, a lot of times I feel so disconnected and different from women my age. But you all, you just make me happy to be a woman. So, thank you internet girls. Thank you for spilling your guts and sharing your hearts. Keep on keepin it real.
* I won't even make my vaguely bisexual references this time - well, unless you want me to
** not to say the guys aren't pretty damn awesome and worthy of props too
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Monday, May 22, 2006
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Do your ever find yourself having politeness fights? That's what my brother and I would call them as we rolled our eyes at the bickering adults. We'd be out to dinner with my aunt or something and both her and my mom would try to pay the check. We always thought it was funny that even though they were both really trying to be generous, that they'd actually get all upset about it. "Oh no, absolutely not - I'm not letting you pay for your dinner. This is on me. NO. This is on ME. NO. Take back your money. Take it. Take it back!" Finally, one of them would defeatedly accept but threaten to pay for dinner next time.
Now that I'm older, I find that I've picked up my mom's politeness fighting habit. What can I say? She raised me not to accept offerings from other people if I didn't have to. Perhaps to her it's a matter of pride and independence along with being polite - and I can understand that, but now I see how annoying it is when you want to do something nice for someone and they just won't accept.
This happens to me now when the matter of lunch comes up at work. Most of the time, I don't mind going and picking something up and will pick up for my boss as well. He'll insist on paying for both of our lunches and sometimes I will kindly thank him, sometimes I will fight it. "No, you bought lunch for me last time. Let me get yours this time. Well, I can at least pay for my own. Really." as he pulls out his wallet, shaking his head. I try refusing his money and this usually ends up with him throwing the cash on my desk and saying "Take it. Take the motherfucking money! And thank you!" And I know, that should be cool and everything but I just don't want to seem like I'm expecting it or something. I'm getting better at just accepting things with a "thank you" but it doesn't feel right if I don't protest at least a little bit.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
I was telling The Beef (also known as J) that sometimes - like when I'm at work- this phrase just keeps popping into my head. I don't remember where I heard it, but find it amusing that people look at quiet, relatively polite little me and don't know I'm sitting here thinking:
"Why? Fuck you, that's why!"
I think I have some repressed anger.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Over the weekend:
- The couple next door had us over for dinner. Nice neighbors! Cute cats! A funny dog! Margaritas! Getting to know each other! We're not used to this kind of friendly behavior from neighbors due to our extended stay in a crappy apartment complex.
- On Saturday morning I woke up and groggily told J about another weird dream I had. "Oh honey, it was the worst experience at Arby's - EVER!"
- Also Saturday morning, I had a message from my dad saying he was coming up (he lives about 3-4 hours away) to take my mom out to dinner (yes, they've been divorced for nearly 20 years) and wondered if he could spend the night at our house. He sounded like he was getting ready to head up our way whether we said yes or no. His message had this tone of spontaneity and anxiousness that made me feel a bit pressured and freaked out. Also, the very short notice wasn't too cool. But I would've felt bad turning him away, so I said that would be fine.
- J's parents did the "pop-in" on Saturday. J's dad slipped him a couple "funny" old pornos, for some reason. I really hope he's not expecting a review, but really I find that more amusing than offensive.
- Our friend Kat popped in as well that evening, it was good catching up with her.
- I ended up having to wait up for my dad to get back from my mom's that night. It was about 11:45 when he finally showed up, and I was tired. Nope, it's not what you're thinking. My mom once again shot down his suggestion of rekindling the flames that burned out a long time ago. I felt like I probably shouldn't know about that, but he told me anyway.
- I don't know how to feel about that. Partly sad, partly annoyed, but mostly awkward.
- I cried a little after my dad left.
- I drank a little more than usual over the weekend.
- J made a wonderful dinner for my mom and his parents Sunday night, including a smoked chicken experiment that turned out really well. He's quite the host. Good times were had.
- The weekend went by really fast - especially with all the parental invasions - but we still managed to fit in some hot late-night doggy-style lovin, in which I yelped like a cocker spaniel. Well, in a good way though.
- I'd gladly discuss any of the above points in more detail, I'm just too tired to make a proper post.
Friday, May 12, 2006
Had this recurring dream again early this morning. I'm desperately searching for a bathroom to use. It always ends up being a public bathroom with many stalls, and there are always problems with it. Some of the stall doors are broken, some don't even have doors. There is water on the floor, a toilet is overflowing. People are everywhere. The place is a mess but I'm desperate. The only clean-looking toilet will inevitably have some other problem, like no privacy. People keep coming into my stall and I can't relax enough to actually go. I've already made a wreath of toilet paper to cover the suspiscious-looking seat, and someone else comes in, sits down and starts to go. I finally exclaim that I've been waiting to use the bathroom for like half an hour now and this is the only one that isn't plugged up or being used. The girl shrugs, flushes the toilet, and it overflows onto my shoes. When I finally get one of the clean, working toilets, I sit there and can't go.
I have a dream book where this is mentioned. Their idea is that in real life there is something you need to "get out" but are embarrassed of it, or just don't know how to express it and you're holding it in.
Or maybe it's just a worry that stays in the back of your mind. If you've ever frantically had to use the bathroom at a rest-stop, a KOA campground, or even at a highschool, the above dream isn't far from reality.
I guess I can just be glad that I didn't wet the bed.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
And we're in the middle of what appears to be a 10 day bout of rain. You'll know I'm officially old if people start complaining about the weather and I shake my fist and say "We need the rain." Old people know best sometimes, or that's what they'll tell you.
I've been sorta in and out lately (yeah, again). I blame it on dreariness and self-medicating. I've been drinking better things like WATER lately and my body is quite confused by it. I also tried an awesome beverage recently that I wish I'd see around more often - Arizona Blueberry White Tea. Word. Antioxidants fo dat ass.
I haven't planted anything new, but I'm pleasantly surprised at what has come to life here. These leaves are so lovely, you'd think they're hand-painted.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
How much do you love the people who wear the cordless cell phone earpieces around the office? No no, I mean, I can totally see the convenience in this and everything. Truly I wouldn't mind one myself for home use. But. A few peeves:
- I know the temptation is strong, but do you really have to keep talking on it while you're in the bathroom, using the bathroom? When it's a business call?
- Sure, we've all dropped calls before. But your limit for number of times to say "hellooo?" before realizing and accepting that the call has been dropped is 2, maybe 3 - not 7 or 8. And you don't have to holler like your caller has fallen down a well or something, either.
- Please don't look directly at me while you're talking to someone else on your headset.
- If you talk to me while that headset is on, I'm just gonna ignore you because I'll think you're talking to someone else.
When I worked at the drycleaners that had a drive-thru window, I'd occasionally get these headset people. And the difficult thing was that I'd only see the left side of their face, not realizing their headset was on the right. So one time, dude pulls up and says hello in my direction. I say good morning and am prepared to continue with this transaction. Only to get the raised "pshht" hand and hear him continue his conversation on the phone, while ignoring me. This is a drive-thru, mind you. If someone else had come along, he wouldn't have thought twice about holding up the line. I wish I could say I did something really cool in this situation, but I just turned and walked away from the window, ignored him when I heard him say "Okay, I'm ready now" and then let him wait and bang on the counter a couple times before I came back over. I can't remember now, but I wonder if that was the same fuck who'd come through, throw his dirty clothes at you and say "I'm in a HURRY, I'm late for SURGERY" and all acted like he was a doctor and like that gave him priority over everyone else. But later we found one of his business cards and he was just a medical supply sales rep. Jerkass.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Friday night was interesting. I started out in a rotten mood, so if I talked/didn't talk/was a bitch to you, I'm sorry. Especially to J, because he didn't deserve to come home to my freaked out and pissy attitude. But being the nice guy he is, made quite a bit of effort to cheer me up. This involved margaritas and taquitos (festive!) and - you know I don't normally go on about meat here - but this really awesome ribeye steak on the grill. I'm not even that crazy about steak in general, but it was seared to perfection and was just SO good! And did I mention the margaritas kicked my ass? Now I'm not sure how many we each had, but we managed to finish off that bottle of tequila. I was all stumbley, chatty and happy, the two of us were having a damn good time for a couple of old fuddy-duddies.
Oh, but there's more. You know what you really want to see when you are shitty drunk and step outside your house later to put the grill away? A multitude of flashing emergency vehicle lights of course! Several police cruisers blocking the street, a police SUV in the driveway, 2 or 3 firetrucks and a couple other fire-related trucks, and a bunch of neighbors standing outside looking distraught.
Talk about a buzzkill.
Our neighbor told J part of the story before he got pulled away by one of the firemen. We went back inside for a minute, trying to absorb what was happening while in our blurred foggy state. "I don't know if I can go out there again, I'm way too fucked up" J said. Then there's me "Shit, it's legal to be fucked up in my own house, isn't it? That's what I'll say if they ask me any questions." I was more joking than beligerent, but it did take an effort to regain our composure before going back out to find out what was going on.
A fire started in a neighbors garage and you know, things combusted and whatnot. They weren't home yet. No one was hurt. Thankfully, the neighbors between us and them were home and called 911. Not before the garage fire spread and started melting away part of their house too though, unfortunately. It's a big mess. Those poor people. We were standing outside talking when the owner of the home arrived and went running past to see the damage. On his way, this mouthy preteen boy intercepted him "Dude! Your house caught on fire!" J and I looked at each other like "who the hell is that kid?" Because the way he said it sounded so rude, it was like "Dude, you suck! You set your house on fire, dumbass." I mean, at a moment of great distress - J and I thought the guy might just punch that kid in the face and keep walking. We were just a little disappointed when he didn't. Then it seemed like everyone who walked by mentioned that this is the second fire these people have had. I feel really bad for them, hopefully they have decent insurance. We gawked for a bit along with the neighbors but then decided it was time to go back inside.
We didn't feel so festive after that, but it was an interesting night nonetheless.
Friday, May 05, 2006
Things I'm not good at:
- Eating with chopsticks
- Singing "Here I Go Again" by Whitesnake on karaoke - it's harder than you'd think!
- Reverse cowgirl
- Driving in reverse (backing into parking spaces, backing down my driveway)
- Reassuring myself
Things I'm good at:
- Being self-deprecating
- Embarrassing myself
- Making myself nauseous
- Checking your blogs
- Doing naughty things
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Part Three of... Possibly More?
Read Part One
Read Part Two
How long did my romance with Keith last? A few weeks? A month? I can't quite remember, but it didn't seem like very long. Plus I think we had decided to "go out" right before school was over so I didn't get to see him as much anymore anyway. No more sneaky kisses.
It was that summer that my mom decided she was going back to school in a city 3 hours south of where we were and I decided to move with her, leaving my dad, my stupid brothers, and well, Keith behind. I remember calling Keith to tell him the news and not being that impressed with his reaction. He was just kind of quiet and then said his mom was calling him and he'd have to go or something. Ohh, I don't think he was that sad. Was he? He probably just didn't know what to say. That was the last time I ever talked to him, even though it was a while before I actually moved away. I was kinda sad about it for a while, but my mom and her newfound liberation kept me from going on about boys too much.
So, that was about it for the "action" I got in fourth grade. Oh wait, no. I umm, I also humped a girl.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Part Two of A Few
Read Part One First
Alright, I didn't actually end up "going out" with both Keith and Brandon at the same time. Come on. And be like that two-timin' chump Kaylan? Nah. What I did do, however, was have most of the class vote on who they thought I should go out with. Oh yeah, ballots and shit - you know it. Alright, more like a sheet with "check one" on it, but still. Nice, huh?
Brandon was the popular, blond haired, class-clowney kind of guy while Keith was a quietly funny, polite, brown-haired guy. Naturally, nearly everyone in class voted for Brandon. I remember that piece of paper being passed back to me just before the end of class and I looked at it and smiled.
And of course, decided to go out with Keith. Ha.
After all, he talked to me first and I knew Brandon wouldn't really care either way. Plus, I always liked rooting for the underdog.
I think I made a good choice. We never actually did "go out", but one day I convinced Keith to ride his bike over to my house. He whined a little bit about how far away it was, but I insisted. I think for some reason I was going to be alone there or mostly unsupervised for a little while. And of course, I had plans.
I knew I was not supposed to have boys over, let alone have them in my room but I didn't seem to care. When Keith got there, we went in my room where I informed him that we were going to "kiss like they do on TV", demonstating a long french kiss as an example with my pillow. He was a little intimidated by that. After a little compromising, we ended up doing more of a "kiss like fourth-graders would" but hey, I was just happy to get a kiss at all.
And, as you'll see below - he even wrote me a sweet little note! Sure, it took some urging, but it's pretty good, I think. I've been holding onto this one for a long time. I think it was my first "loveletter" from a boy. It still makes me smile.
What about you? Have you kept old-school love notes? Do you remember the ones you've written?
Part One of A Few
So, fourth grade was pretty sweet. I mean, looking back I had a bunch of fucked up family shit going on and all that BUT I was also in public school instead of Catholic so I didn't have to wear uniforms, which I thought was the shiz at the time. (I actually transferred over in 3rd grade, but I don't remember much of note during that year.) And I could wear EARRINGS, well - I'd hide the really dangly ones that my mom didn't like and then put them on once I got to school. It was a really nice elementary school and I was happy there. Plus the school had the COOLEST playground, and we were even allowed to go about 3.5 feet into the adjacent woods and make forts. Forts! Awesome.
So, I never really went through that "boys are icky" stage. Or I did, but that didn't stop me from chasing them. There was this boy that I thought was cute. His name was Kaylan or some crap like that. He had bronze skin and an oblong head and I don't remember much about him but he was popular. I liked him, and then my friend decided she liked him too, and she'd go ask him who he liked. He was all "Well, why don't I go out with both of you and see who I like better?" What a pimp. I inevitably lost, though neither of us actually "went out" anywhere with him. My friend snarkily announced that she had been chosen while we were on the playground, maybe a day or two later. I went off to the woods area and was feeling half-sad and defeated. This nice boy Keith came up and after hearing about it, said
"Well, I woulda picked you"
(sniffle) "You... you would?"
Then his friend Brandon came up.
"Yeah, I woulda gone out with you too."
They look at each other, and back at me.
(light bulb goes on) "Well, I've got an idea, boys - how bout I go out with both of you and see who I like better?"
Monday, May 01, 2006
I wrote this last night (Monday). I know it's all whiney and crap, but hell I wrote it so I'm putting it up. I'll hopefully have something happier to share soon.
I've had way too much time to think today. Still, not much clarity has come from it.
I'm not the type that has taken a big ol' bite out of life. I haven't been known to put my foot down and demand things in the way other people do. I sometimes can't bring myself to just tell you what I want. Sometimes I don't know what I want. Sometimes I'm afraid to say it. I just want to be someone. I want to be worth something. To you and to me. I don't feel like there's anywhere I fit in. You won't hear me being referred to as "my wife" or "that hottie" or "the charming young lady" or even "the MILF next door." But perhaps that is for the best. I am none of these things. I'm not young, I'm not cute, I'm not successful, I'm not sick, I'm not well. I don't seem to ever feel quite right. I feel like I have so much that I want to give, but how can a no-one have anything to offer?
So, here I am on another pointless night, wanting to cry for other people's lives - for their struggles, their loves, their losses, their strengths. It's ridiculous.
Anxiety is love's greatest killer. It makes others feel as you might when a drowning man holds on to you. You want to save him, but you know he will strangle you with his panic. - Anais Nin
While this quote makes some sense, you can probably see why I also find it heartbreaking. I want to be a better person, I don't want to weigh anyone down, I just feel so overwhelmed by all my flaws and don't quite know where to start with fixing them.