Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Creepy Man

On the heels of my anti-PDA post, I feel compelled to add that not only do I dislike being hugged in general, but I also really dislike being hugged by creepy men. 

There is a woman in my social circle.  She's relatively nice.  Her husband is, uh, weird.  And old(ish).  And he has always liked me.  As in, he hugs me, but he doesn't hug any of the other friends of his wife.  As in, he corners me when we're alone and gives me unsolicited hugs.  As in, I with a relatively high creepy tolerance get creeped out by him. Then he was taking pictures of me. 

Have I mentioned that he is weird?  And he smells like Paul.  I don't like eau de sweaty man.  I like eau de soap.  Not that I would appreciate the unsolicited hugs even if he smelled good.  But if you add in the sweaty smell on top of the other creepiness, I really need a shower after one of his hugs. 

The obvious solution when he leans in for his hug is to deny him.  As much as I claim to be cranky, I do try to go along with things and not make a public fuss.  Screaming and/or swatting him is making a public fuss. Or I could tell his wife, but that's just kind of weird. What woman wants to know that her significant other is lecherous?  And perhaps I'm making a big deal out  of nothing. I don't want to feed any paranoia on her part either.  I just want him to Stop. Touching. Me.     Do I touch him?  No.  I just expect the same consideration in return.

What I find funny about this whole thing is that he would HATE me if he really knew me.  He talks so freaking much TO me that he has never talked WITH me.  He thinks he knows everything about everything, and he's the type that likes to hear himself talk in perpetuity.  I just let him keep talking because I'm not going to argue with him.  What's the point in arguing with closed-minded people?  There just isn't any point in it.  I'd rather debate with someone who I think I have a better chance to get through to.  Him?  No way, he's still stuck in 1950.  He believes women should stay at home and be subservient, men have all the answers, he's a staunch Republican, and he doesn't even comprehend the rhetoric he spouts. 

Verbatim example.  He is over at our house and comments on how big it is.  Another guy says, "Yeah, I'd have to get a cleaning crew if I lived here."  Creepy Man says, "You married the cleaning crew."  Oh really?  He's a gem, I tell ya.  If only they cloned him, then we wouldn't have overpopulation concerns anymore.

If he and I were set up on a blind date (assuming we were both single), I would have claimed food poisoning before the main dish.

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Worst job ever

A few days break from blogging.  Do you know what's sick?  I blog mentally as I go about my day.  My mind is just a constant rambling blog that would make completely no sense (instead of mostly no sense as my typed out blogs are) if a transcript was available.  This is exactly why I never will write that novel - I love blogging too much.  And my other writing obstruction is that I want to be completely up to date on my reading before I start writing, and as there are about 100,000 books at the library that I haven't read and want to read...well, it's going to take a while to go through those. 

Today we hosted a barbecue.  The weather was supposed to cooperate, but it didn't.  Ugh, Seattle.  I think it was warmer at noon than it was at 3pm.  Actually, I'm pretty darn sure of it.  I'm also pretty darn sure that it didn't exceed 60 degrees today.  And today was supposed to be the "best" day of the 3 day weekend.

I am exhausted.  We only had 10 adults and 6 kids here, but the added pressure of hosting and socializing are just too much for me.  I start getting a headache a few hours into it.  And I'm a sucky host.  I can either do tending to food distribution or socializing, but I can't do both.  My strategy is usually to set out as much as possible right before (although I usually still forget several things), and then try to put my efforts into socializing unless someone comes to me saying that we need something or ran out of something. Julia is pretty good, but she's really shy, so she wants to be held for hours on end.  Food distribution/tending to that stuff + socializing + lugging a toddler around who is less comfortable in her own house than her guests.  Ugh, I just am not good at it.  Both my husband and I are fundamentally introverts, and our daughter is even more of an introvert than we are.  This stuff doesn't come naturally, which means we don't want to do it, which means we get even less practice at it, which means we get even worse at it than we already are.  Vicious downward cycle.  Then afterward we need at least a day to recover/clean up and feel ready to tackle the days ahead.

Worst job ever for me: party planner

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Zyrtec love/hate relationship

I had today off from work.  It was nice except for the 2.5 hour appointment.  Even that was productive, but it prevented me from being utterly lazy.  I read a book. I washed the two comforters on our bed (two separate loads of laundry).  Then I ate dinner in bed and proceeded to spill some lasagna on my newly white comforter.  Ah!  I hate when I am self-defeating like that.  However, my main reason for washing the comforter was because my allergies are in turbo high gear right now.  But still...grumble, grumble and stupid me for eating lasagna in bed.   And yes, I know it's karma's way of telling me I shouldn't be eating gluten and dairy.  Got that.

Zyrtec for me is a good and a bad.  Grass allergy season is awful.  Each year it seems to be getting worse. I'm not sure if my poor specimen of a body is deteriorating more each year, or if pollen is increasing each year, or a combination of the two.  All I know is that the sneezing, wheezing, and runny nose has been starting earlier, being more intense, and going longer each year.

If I don't take Zyrtec, I sneeze hundreds of times a day + my sinuses kill me + the attractive qualities of wheezing/runny nose + crankiness

If I take Zyrtec, I am comatose but have no symptoms.  Seriously, I slept 13 hours last night after popping that pill.  Last week I took Zyrtec and also slept 13 hours straight.  Right now it might just be a correlation, but the 13 hours of sleep in a row has eluded me for most of my adult life except when I take Zyrtec.  So I think it might be more than a correlation and likely causation.   

Having no symptoms is nice.  Really nice.  Yet 13 hours of sleep in a day is, umm... not quite feasible more than once or maybe twice a week.  Zyrtec-induced sleep is not a sleep that you wake up from and say, "Wow, that was the best sleep of my life!"  Rather, it's the type of sleep that you wake up from and say, "Did someone drug me with a roofie and take advantage of me and why is the room kind of fuzzy and why is my mouth so dry?"

One thing I learned as I pottered (the British version of putzed) around the house today.  The blue Victoria's Secret underwear I got EXACTLY MATCH the blue dress I got for the wedding. They are the exact same shade of blue (and it's a weird shade of blue too, so it's a cosmic feat of dye colors, I tell ya).  I'm not so Martha Stewart that I match my underwear to my clothes - just a weird coincidence.

I wish I had something profound today, but I've been trying to mentally work on my bridesmaid speech and that's been occupying my mental energy.  I'm not sure what the tone should be.  Should it be sappy?  I'm so bad at sappy.  I just can't do it, and when I try, it just comes out so fake.  I can do sarcastic, but that's probably not the right tone for a wedding.  So I'm thinking I should try sentimental.  However, sentimental can be a minefield with these two.

---> Stew spices
---> Secretary of State
---> Sunglasses at Night
---> Atari 2600
---> Twin Peaks
---> Underground tunnels
---> Masked Pen Bandit

Must not talk about above but how can I be sentimental?
Do you think they have canned bridesmaid speeches online? 

P.S. I hope Zyrtec (I mean whatever pharmaceutical company makes it) reads this and gives me a solution.

P.P.S. I'm editing this to say YES, they have bridesmaid speeches online.  Duh, of course they would.

Monday, May 23, 2011

The new club I'm starting

I love stand-up comedy.  I can appreciate most comics.  I like the high-brow ones, the low-brow ones, the ones that talk about porn, the ones that talk about politics, the ones that talk about celebrities, the ones that talk redneck, etc.  My husband is more of a high-brow stand-up comedy type of person.  He'll say he isn't - he'll say that he just likes comedians who are funny.  Of course that insinuates that any comedians that I like that he doesn't like are unfunny.  Which isn't true.  He just has this thing called "standards" that I don't have. 

Everyone, particularly the female contingent, has been raving about the comedian Daniel Tosh.  Anyone heard of him?  I have read entire articles and posts about how fantastic this guy is.  I like comedy, I have Netflix, let me watch some Daniel Tosh. 

After watching 12 minutes and 43 seconds of Daniel Tosh doing stand-up, I had to turn it off because I was so offended.  Maybe that's his schtick - being so offensive/not PC that it's funny.  Ummm maybe.  Or maybe he's so high-brow that I just don't "get" him.  At all.  Within 12 minutes and 43 seconds, he made fun of homosexuals and then said New Orleans deserved the hurricane and hoped it happened again to them.  There were other un-funny things too.  When my forehead crinkles that much when I supposed to be enjoying something, I know that it's best to cut bait.

Then I heard another person rave about him again.  This person raved about his good looks and timing. I thought maybe I need to give him another chance.  Tried again.  Maybe I could at least stare at his good looks even if he was un-funny.   He was even more intolerable the second time. 

Now I suppose I can be in the anti-Daniel Tosh club.  Based on all the womenfolk I know, I think I'm the only member.  And, again, why I feel like I will be kicked out of the girls club at any second. 

I think my AC adapter is going to blow.  The thing is seriously wicked hot.  As in I'm going to give myself a third degree burn from it.  Um, I better go.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Dresses, Allergies, Furnaces, Oh my!

I think I found my bridesmaid dress.  I just have to get approval from the bride.  And I was so glad to find out that the chartreuse dress is what SHE (the bride) is going to wear.  Whew.  Because chartreuse is so not my color.  My dilemma then became if she's wearing chartreuse, what color do I wear?  Let's go down the options:

Black? Nope, you can't wear black to a wedding.
White or ivory? Nope, because I'll look like the bride instead of her.
Green? Different shades of green together would look weird.
Red? If she's wearing green and I'm wearing red, we will look like Christmas in July.
Yellow? I think you can get away with yellow only if you have a really olive skin tone, which I DON'T have.
Orange? Ditto what I said to yellow.
Pink/Purple? I've never seen her wear pink or purple willingly, and I didn't want to pink out her wedding when it's not one of her favorite colors.

That leaves me with...BLUE unless I'm missing out on a color. I suppose there are brown and gray, but I thought weddings had more cheerful colors.  Hence, I tried to stick in the blue color family.

And I think I found a dress!  It's a couple inches longer than I was looking for, but I think it looks pretty good - at least on the bottom half.  That is what I find so frustrating about dresses - I can usually rock the bottom half, but with the big boobs/chest, things kind of go haywire on top.  This dress is no exception.  But I have 10 weeks, and hopefully I can work a minor miracle.  At least it zips and looks marginal even if I don't succeed in my effort.

I actually made a 10-week plan that I *think* will work to fit in the dress better - as long as I can STICK to the plan.  I have to run it by someone who is more versed in nutrition and exercise than myself, but I'm pretty sure it gets to my core problem.

Welcome to grass season!  Gah, I hate grass season.  Either I'm 1) exhausted from sneezing 100 times an hour or 2) exhausted from all the allergy meds I have to take in order to not sneeze. Whatever is in allergy meds seriously zonks me out.  Three days this week I've been out like the dead by 7pm.  On all of those days I took allergy meds.  Hmmm....

I think we've settled on a furnace dude.  He answered all of my pesky questions sufficiently plus he's going to do a little more than the others.  Plus I get a bit better vibe from him.  All in all, I'm surprised we made a decision so quickly.  Gotta call him early next week.

Actually today was fairly productive, sans the allergies!

Thursday, May 19, 2011

The Whole Story

I hate getting one slanted side to the story.  I realize that we all have our own different perspectives on things, and I also realize that we want to portray ourselves in a favorable light to others.  It's human nature, I get that.  I'm not immune to it and need to be kept in check as well.

Still, it's beyond annoying when you're trying to figure out the complete story, and you only hear tiny bits and pieces and when things don't make any logical sense and you try to politely point out things, and the person just ignores you and keeps going on their slanted rant.  What that says to me is either the person is being extremely purposeful in feeding you the things he/she wants you to take in OR the person is so delusional that he/she can't see that there would be any other perspective.  I find both options off-putting.  Either the person is insulting my intelligence or is delusional.

I'm sure people find my constant questions annoying when I'm trying to understand the whole story.  I suppose sometimes I can come off as a devil's advocate, supporting the other side, or I can put them on the spot with deeper questions that touch on more sensitive things that they don't want to think about and/or discuss.  But hey, if you share first about a topic, then I feel I can ask more questions about that topic.  With my good friends, they don't seem to mind and actually seem to appreciate the gentle challenge.  I suppose that's why I like them so much because they tend to be more introspective than the average person.

Turn around is fair play.  I like when people challenge my perspectives and values.  Only a couple of good friends plus my husband ever really challenge me like that.  Most people keep things very superficial.  I suppose that's fine and dandy, but sometimes I'd like to take things to a higher level.  I'd like to deal with more philosophical/introspective types of questions and talk about how to approach situations differently.  I suppose that I want to find people who are wanting to grow as well and gently challenge me and my perspective. If I'm not pushed out of my comfort zone, I'm not really sure I'll ever go there on my own.  You know what I mean?

Most of the time when you actually learn the whole and complete story, it's not one person's fault 100%.  In any interaction, each person reacts to a number of things (body language, tone, actual words).  Then you've got the history of past interactions, and the history can be quite deep.  Actual interactions can be quite complex due to all of the factors, and each person does contribute to the dynamic.  You can only control how you react to the other person.  You can't control the other person.

I suppose that's why I'm leery when I hear someone's partial story about how another person is evil, and I just hear random snippets of the story.  To get an accurate picture of what's going on, I need the entire story.  Snippets merely frustrate me. 

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

A day off, I think not!

Whew, I'm tired.  Today I was off from work.  "From work" are the key words.  Today was long and arduous, and I didn't even leave the freaking house. 

I painted in the garage for 3 hours, and I got most of the ceiling done.  It's about 800 sq ft of ceiling.  I still have 3 walls to do, but there's shelving bolted to the walls, and with my grace (ha!) combined with my mechanical abilities (ha!), I decided to wait to paint the walls until my husband moves the shelving off the walls.  Painting was from roughly 7:45am - 10:45am.  Shower (actually shower #2 of the day since I showered when I got up and then got paint in my hair and on my face due to my awesome gracefulness while painting).  Load of laundry. Unload dishwasher. Make grocery list.  Make bed since the furnace dudes were coming, and the furnace is off the master bedroom, which means I have to make it look like I don't live in complete squalor.  Pick up the closet (the furnace is actually through the master bedroom closet) since underwear strewn about where the furnace dudes can see just looks tacky.   

Memo to self: Furnaces belong in garages. 

Still haven't eaten breakfast or lunch. Decide to put dinner in the crockpot and just finished putting everything in the crockpot when the doorbell rings.

Furnace dude #1, who arrived at noon, was decent, answered questions, seemed thorough.  He was in his truck working on pricing after he checked out the furnace, and the doorbell rings again.  I thought it was that dude since he was in his truck at the time.

Dude at door is not Furnace Dude #1.  Different dude holding an electronic clipboard.  UPS guy in streetclothes? Jehovah's witness gone electronic?  Nope.  Tax assessor.  Surprise! He thinks they got something wrong with the house value and want to check it out.  And measure the house.  Oh freaking lovely.  Had to be today when I was home, didn't it?  Of course. 

Assessor dude starts measuring the outside of the house and doing stuff on his clipboard.  Finish up with Furnace Dude #1. I start folding laundry and mostly put it all away when the assessor dude wants in to measure.  Start talking with him.  The elected assessor (this dude is just staff) in our county is crazy.  Really, he is, and it's been common knowledge for the past year.  He's a complete nutjob that they're trying to recall, and I want to sign the petition because he has no right to be in office.  I bring up that his boss is a nutjob.  He completely agrees.  We start talking about the nutjob elected official.  (Later I find out that this staffperson is suing the county for $1 million due to being demoted by the elected official.) Furnace Dude #2 pulls into the driveway, which cues assessor dude to leave.  Thank goodness. 

Furnace Dude #2 is nice but long-winded and pushes the sales pitch.  He just takes more mental energy to deal with. 

I learned about getting multiple bids in the last house.  Not really for price, although that's a definite consideration, but more that you can tap many different experts' opinions on what is going on, and I tend to learn small (or large) morsels from each expert I deal with.  I ask lots of questions and solicit opinions. I like getting educated about these things, but it can kind of be exhausting. 

Furnace Dude #2 arrived at 2:10pm, which was 10 minutes late (although he called to say he would be late), and he had that long sales pitch.  Plus Furnace Dude #3 came a bit early (3:50pm instead of 4pm).  It was kind of awkward when Dude #3 was at the door while Dude #2 was still giving his presentation.  However, that got #2 out the door and after 1.5 hours, I was kind of done with him anyway. 

Thankfully Furnace Dude #3 was quick.  He only took 30 minutes.  Hallelujah!  After all that painting + the tax assessor + the previous two furnace dudes, I was pretty much tapped out.  Oh yeah, and I still hadn't eaten all day but was lured by the captivating smell of the crockpot.  Don't let me get too hungry, or I get really cranky. 

Husband comes home, and I'm ready to pass out from hunger and from being exhausted from entertaining 4 men all day.  It's hard to keep up with 4 men in one day, 5 if you include my husband.  ;-)

Now to figure out what furnace to go with.  Consumer Reports and calculator, here I come!

Confirmation of something I already knew

I just woke up after going to sleep at 6pm.  Yes, 6pm.  I'm amazed I slept continuously given that early bedtime.  I've got to stop taking naps on my days off and on weekends.  Screws me up, and I'm no longer a teenager who can plow through with no ill effects.

I don't work today; however, I have 3 different furnace dudes coming by (12pm, 2pm, 4pm), and then I was going to try to paint some of the garage this morning.  Umm, can I go to work instead?  Sounds a lot easier. 

Several weeks ago I bought a loaf of my favorite cinnamon bread (it's kind of like a cinnamon apple coffee cake in bread form) for Julia.  The girl can eat a loaf of bread over the course of several months, which means she can't eat a loaf of bread because it's a moldy mess before she ever gets through with a loaf.  So I had to help her, i.e., I ate 3/4 of it over the course of a week.  The gluten in it completely messed up my system.  I know this because it was the only difference in my new normal diet (lots of lean meat, fruit, veggies, beans). 

Last week there was an awesome Breyer's ice cream sale, and of course I had to get several cartons with those fun flavors.  I've eaten a hideous amount of ice cream in the past week.  And my system is again screwed up this week, much like it was when I had the cinnamon bread.  My elementary conclusion is that indeed I am intolerant of both dairy/gluten, and it doesn't take a genius to say that this purports with the food allergy tests I took 2 years ago. 

No more ice cream. No more bread.  I've got to get back on the wagon in a major way and STAY on the wagon.  A little bowl of ice cream looks so benign on the surface, but it sets off my system + it starts to topple the wagon.

Going to try to catch a few more hours of zzzz's, take Julia to daycare, and then (hopefully) paint the garage and then wait for my line of dudes to come by.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

A Mullet / Dreadlocked Two-Fer

Back when I lived in Las Vegas and was a tween, I had a friend who lived next to Dino.  And you're like, "Who's Dino? The dinosaur in The Flintstones?"

Dino was a kinda popular musical fixture of the late 80s. I suppose it's all relative.  When you're 12-13 years old and there's a possibility that his video will come on VH-1 at 3am, then it's kind of like you know someone famous.  Even if all you do is stalk his house from your friend's bedroom window.  Right?

Tara and I were obsessed with Dino.  He was 30-ish, not particularly attractive, but the fame thing made him the best thing since sliced bread.  We could dream that he could wait for us to become legal, couldn't we?   What else were we going to do?  Play MASH for the umpteenth time and paint our nails?  There's only so many times you can do that, and spying on an almost legitimately famous person was So. Much. Better.

He was so semi-famous that he opened for New Kids on the Block.  If you think back to 1989, that was a big deal!

I couldn't sleep tonight and for some reason Dino popped into my head.  Check out this video.  First of all, I can't believe we were so enamored with him.  What in the heck is going on with his hair?  Half mullet, half dreadlocks on a white guy?  What WERE we thinking?  The clothes, don't get me started on the clothes.  But the hair is extremely captivating because I never remember the half mullet/half dreadlock hairstyle being popular.

FYI: He's the white guy about 40 seconds in with the weird microphone.  You can't miss him with that hairdo and all. 

Monday, May 16, 2011


I have off from work Monday and Wednesday.  What's even more exciting is that I made a to-do list of things to get done by Wednesday night back on Friday, and I've already completed everything on the list!  Yep yep yep, I rocked that to-do list on Friday, Saturday and today so well that I technically don't have anything else to scratch off my list before Thursday. While I took Julia out today, my husband did a few things on the list as well. 

Deep, relieved sigh

After my Dewey project, I've been reading more fiction.  It makes sense because I was so fiction-deprived for so many months.  But now, my interest for reading fiction is starting to wane just a bit, and I think I may start writing.  Writing - as in a novel.  My problem is that I can get to 50-75 pages, and then I lose momentum, put it down for a month (or longer), then take a few days to read everything I had written to that point, and I get lost in the plot and can't find my way out.  See why I like blogging instead?  No rules, no theme (at least I don't have a theme), just go by the seat of your pants.  When you run into a wall, you just end the post and blame it on your stream of consciousness running out.

If you could only get out of all your problems that way....

I wrote about something a few months ago, but I deleted it quickly after posting it and am not sure how many people read it. I don't like duplicating things; thus, I will try to approach it from a slightly different angle.

I keep in fairly good contact with one of my ex boyfriends.  It's kind of an odd set-up, but he was one of those guys who was always more of a friend/brother than a boyfriend.  We had a weird dynamic.  As most people who knew us would say, they had no idea why we were ever together.  In our weird - but yet comfortable - dynamic, he and I thought of each other in a rather inaccurate way.  I guess I thought of him as an injured bird (like he couldn't take care of himself and needed constant "help"), and I have no idea what he thought of me - but it was almost as if he thought I was on a different astral plane than he was on.  My husband says that my ex-boyfriend put me on some sort of pedestal.  Again, it was a weird dynamic that didn't work when we dated, but we get along quite well most of the time as long as we're not dating.

I've noticed with a lot of men in my life that it's almost like I put them on a pedestal.  With women, I rarely if ever do it.  It's an awful prejudgment that I have.  My tendency is to immediately associate women with fallibility, indecision, needless emotion, frustration, neediness, and exasperation.  On the other hand, I attribute more "positive" characteristics like steadfastness, decisiveness, rationality, and amiability to men.  If you show me two people with the same personalities, with the only difference being gender, I will undoubtedly like the guy more than the girl.  Women tend to freak me out.  All that perceived neediness and mood swings make me incredibly nervous, and I have no idea what to do other than hide under my bed like a cat.

Besides prejudging women as more difficult in general, the other main error with this gender preconception is giving men more credit than they actually deserve.  Let us be clear, men can be incredibly stupid and are rarely flawless.  I will make the only assertion that I know to be true from my perspective: Men are far easier to understand than women.  Somehow I confuse that assertion with a bunch of personality characteristic prejudgments that are not accurate.

I tend to put men on pedestals until their stupidity and flaws start to show.  It depends on the amount and type of stupidity and flaws as to whether the guy goes to "injured bird" status or "beyond hope" status or just plain "fallible but nice guy" status.  "Injured birds" bring out me as a caretaker.  I kind of suck as a caretaker, but I can have a few weird, maternal moments. "Beyond hope" guys bring out me ignoring them.  They need so much help that there's way more than anyone can ever do for them, and if they don't want to change, nothing's going to happen anyway.  Don't waste any energy on them because it's not worth it.  The "fallible but nice guys" are just that.  I have a reasonably accurate perception of them and know their strengths and weaknesses.  They aren't lost causes.  They're on the whole good people, but they can fall into certain traps.  What has been interesting is that my ex boyfriend has moved from the "injured bird" category to the "fallible but nice guy" category now that we're no longer dating.  It's a lot healthier category to be in.

Another thing that is somewhat odd is that I still have my husband on a pedestal.  After knowing him 14 years now, he has never disappointed me.  He's never succumbed to things I deem to show him as being fallible.  He's steadfast, reliable, rational, decisive.  He's pretty darn near perfect.  In comparison, I am the hopeless one, the injured bird.

He's on one mighty high pedestal.  If he ever comes off it, it's going to be a truly long fall.   


Saturday, May 14, 2011

The stench, oh, the stench

You’re walking through the mall, minding your own business, and then you smell it.  There's a suffocating stench of cheap cologne* that is permeating the air.  What is it? 

You’re 5 stores away from Abercrombie & Fitch. The stench only increases in pungency as you approach A & F.  Suffocating cheap cologne, deafening music**, almost complete utter darkness*** inside the store.  How can anyone find clothes in there when it’s darker than most nightclubs?  How can you be in a store full of that awful stench with the crazy loud music?  Why don’t people run screaming from that store?
I know, just put me in the senior citizen home for cranky old women.

After I bypass the store and the stench starts to slowly dissipate, I can get back into window shopping.  Only…wait!  The stupid stench is starting again!!!  Oh, golly gee, there’s a look alike store, only this one is just called Abercrombie.  What’s the difference between the two?  I have not a clue.  All I know is that the stench, loud music, and darkness are back.  If you consider all the square feet of common mall walking space that the stench has invaded, I’d estimate that at least a third of the mall smells like cheap cologne. 
How do they make the cheap cologne smell permeate so much of the mall?  How can people shop in there if you consider the horrid smell, the utter darkness, and the migraine-inducing music?  I must say that it’s a complete deterrent to anyone over the age of 25 from entering the store.  That’s probably their goal.  We the people over 25 are like vampires, and the music/lighting/cologne combination is like a big ol’ strand of garlic around their neck to keep us away.

*I like cologne.  Subtle cologne.  I like to want to smell a guy, but the thing is – I want to work at it.  The air has to be catching his cologne just so.  Or I have to get close enough to smell him.  When the country of China can smell you coming, it’s just not attractive.  Again, subtlety is the best strategy, at least in my humble opinion. 
** I like certain loud music, but not THAT loud music.
*** I love darkness.  It’s awesome.  But when colors and matching are involved, it’s nice to have some light to figure out what you’re looking at. If I can’t figure out if it’s purple or red when it’s on the rack, then that’s a problem.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011


Poor husband is flummoxed by my post deleting.  Apparently he's not the most observant person because I delete posts rather frequently.

I love to speculate.  I love gossipy, trashy magazines.  I love hearing "the scoop."  People tell me crap.  I don't know why they do, but they do.

There's part of me that loves when my speculations come true.  There definitely is some smug satisfaction when that happens.  When we first knew each other, I swear that he thought I was a freaking prophet. Probably some of my allure was that I could predict how the chips would fall.  I'd like to say it's rocket science, but unfortunately people are far too predictable on the whole and go back to their same selfish underlying motives.

Beyond the smug satisfaction, I am often disappointed when my speculations turn out to be true.  As much as I'd like to believe that I try to see the best in people, I know that I often see the bad.  Affirmation that the negative view I have is indeed correct is terribly disappointing.  I want to be blown away by incredible displays of positive human character.  I know they are out there. If nothing else, I can go out there and try to make an attempt to be worthy of being that person.   

So, in conclusion for those who haven't figured it out, brother-in-law is indeed having some sort of relationship with another woman.  Am I shocked? No. Am I disappointed? Yes. Am I being told only one side of the story? Yes.

I worry about the kids.  Those are some of the most stressed out and dejected kids I have known.  There's something very wrong about a 7-year old who says, "I hope Mommy dies before Daddy."

Most of all, I hope for peace.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Security Detail

Tonight I took a walk in the dark, and with my visit with W in the not-too-distant past, I realized how much I enjoyed working security in college so many years ago.  I liked the people I worked with. I liked working nights.  I liked walking around campus.  I liked the atmosphere.  I liked that I got to be sneaky.  I would never want to be a cop, but we weren't cops.  We just got to wear a green coat, have a radio and maglight as protection, and wandered around aimlessly until we found something interesting or had to give an escort to those students (99% of which were female) who wanted someone to walk with them from campus to the dorms/parking lots.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Rekindling a certain something

Tonight I met my old pal Wendy (not to be confused with the Wendy who occasionally visits here).  She and I haven't seen each other in almost 13 years!   The funny thing is that she and I were very, very close when we did see each other last.  We were close work buddies for 2 years, working the same shift every night and were good friends.  Nothing bad happened between us; I ended up graduating and moving away.  If we had been even better friends, we would have stayed in touch. I guess I could say that Wendy was very emotionally wearing on me, and after basically being her therapist for 2 years, I was a tad relieved to not have therapist duties any longer.

To be clear, Wendy was a very nice person.  She was just really emotionally needy. I could ooze empathy.  And I was the only one who understood her situation.  Needy other person + me being excellent therapist/counselor + me being the only one with insider information = us being good friends with a slightly dysfunctional dynamic.  I was more of the mother/caretaker, and she was the attention-seeking child.

There were three of us who worked together: W, me, and J.  The three of us worked together for two years.  W lusted after J.  I couldn't stand J.  He was an egocentric bad boy who was dating someone else but stringing W along...for 2 years.  He was such an ass.  The type of guy where I'd shake my head, roll my eyes, and want to poke my eyes out after listening to him for more than a few minutes.  So very full of himself with the attitude that women were put on this planet to serve him.  As a good friend does, I kept my opinions to myself when talking to W and listened to her pine away for him.  And remember, he had a girlfriend.

After he strung W along for an ample amount of time, he finally broke up with his girlfriend.  W was ecstatic, thinking and hoping that they would finally have a chance to be together.  And what does J do?  Starts dating someone else.  As awful as the whole thing was to watch from my perspective, I'm kind of glad it played out that way because she was forced to realize that she would always be The Other Woman to him.  I think it was the impetus for her to realize that she didn't need him and move on with her life.

She told me tonight that she's been nervous about seeing me again.  It was one of the few times in her life where she wasn't proud about how she acted, and of course I saw every moment played out right in front of me.  When you get down to it, that was primarily what our friendship was about.  I was her J therapist.  None of her other friends knew about him in more than theory because, of course, she was sneaking around with him.  Even if she told her other friends, I'm sure they didn't know he was dating someone else.  She probably left that detail out.

And so 13 years later here we are.  Where do we go from here?  I haven't really thought about that part yet.  It was just so flipping WEIRD to eat dinner with someone you haven't had any interaction with for 13 years, who looks the same, who seems slightly different than who you remember, trying to find a new "normal" in your friendship.