At some point I'm going to learn my lesson and stop going out on St. Patty's Day. (I'm so hung over right now...ugh, the pain - some holidays should not be allowed to take place on a Tuesday.)
So, do you ever wake up the morning after going out, and as details of the night start coming back to you all you can think is, 'Oh, FUCK no!'?
Did I really say those things? Did I really do those things?
Um, and on a not unrelated note I am no longer seeing the guy I mentioned in the last post.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
If This Seems All Over the Place, It’s Because I’m All Over the Place
I finally saw He’s Just Not that Into You, and I can honestly say that piece of shit movie was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever sat through (and I just watched Fool’s Gold on HBO).
Christine and I went, both really excited to see a slightly exaggerated, funny take on dating today. What we got was a cringe-inducing 2 hours that in no way reflected ANY females I know. I turned to Christine as the credits rolled and said, ‘That had to have been written by a man. I don’t know any woman who would do any of those things.’
Christine’s response was simple – ‘I can’t believe I spent $12.50 on that; what a fucking rip-off.’ No shit.
I’m leaving for Italy this weekend. I’m going for work (just like last year), but unlike last year I’m not taking a vacation after. Oh no, that would be too relaxing. Instead I’m just going to keep running myself into the ground until eventually I collapse. (Please God, let me collapse soon – I think I’ve been running on fumes for the past 2 weeks.)
People, I’m stressed. I’m stressed about being out of the office next week, I’m stressed about 4th quarter (we’re preparing for it now – good timing to go out of the country for the week, right?), I’m stressed about my personal life (I’m dating a guy that I don’t really like, but I like how much he likes me – yes, I know how pathetic that sounds), I’m stressed about leaving my cat in the care of Christine while I’m gone (oh please, please, please let her – my cat, not Christine – be alive when I get back), and most of all, I’m stressed about the main thing that’s REALLY making me stressed…
I quit smoking. Or I’m in the process of doing so – cold turkey (I get off on asserting my willpower…normally…well, not right now). And it’s making me…restless. Uncomfortably so.
Honestly, I’ve tried to quit in the past, but I never really wanted to so I put in a half-assed effort every time (which never works). Now I really want to quit – I think…fuck! – and I’m finding it…AGH!
(A note to everyone who is sitting there thinking ‘Smoking is a stupid and disgusting habit, she shouldn’t have started to begin with and she deserves the discomfort she’s experiencing now.’ Um, 1) Fuck you, and 2) No shit, Sherlock.)
Anyway, everything seems to be boiling down to one solid fact: I CAN’T RELAX! At all. I am dead serious here people, I am INCAPABLE of relaxing right now, and it’s driving me insane.
Most people who know me describe me as some variation of the following group of adjectives: loyal, occasionally distant/cold, funny, sarcastic, and LAID BACK. I don’t get worked up by a lot, and people comment on that! All the time. But now…
I used to get up in the morning, pop open a Red Bull/drink a cup of coffee, and have a cigarette. I used to get home from work and relax with a cigarette. I used to have a cigarette while I was reading, or watching TV. You know…relaxing stuff. Only now every time I want to relax, I can’t have a cigarette…which means I can’t relax. I can’t watch TV. I can’t read. Every time I sit down I want a cigarette, so I haven’t been sitting down when I’m at home (I never smoked during the day at work, so that’s not really a problem). Instead I pace, and stare at the clock, watching the seconds tick by, until I finally have to leave and go for a walk.
I’m a nervous breakdown waiting to happen.
I’ve also been cleaning my apartment obsessively because (stop me if you’ve heard this already) I CAN’T SIT DOWN inside of it. You know what’s also hard to do when you can’t stop pacing while at home – that’s right, eating. Most people gain weight when they quit smoking, but not me…I’m too fucking high strung to eat right now. I also can’t stop jiggling my foot.
Yup, I was a ‘relaxing smoker’ it seems – I smoked to unwind, to relax, to KEEP MYSELF STILL. Now that I can’t, I CAN’T SLOW DOWN. And I’m stressing myself out with no end in sight.
So yeah, that’s what’s going on with me. What’s up with you? Anyone still here?
Christine and I went, both really excited to see a slightly exaggerated, funny take on dating today. What we got was a cringe-inducing 2 hours that in no way reflected ANY females I know. I turned to Christine as the credits rolled and said, ‘That had to have been written by a man. I don’t know any woman who would do any of those things.’
Christine’s response was simple – ‘I can’t believe I spent $12.50 on that; what a fucking rip-off.’ No shit.
I’m leaving for Italy this weekend. I’m going for work (just like last year), but unlike last year I’m not taking a vacation after. Oh no, that would be too relaxing. Instead I’m just going to keep running myself into the ground until eventually I collapse. (Please God, let me collapse soon – I think I’ve been running on fumes for the past 2 weeks.)
People, I’m stressed. I’m stressed about being out of the office next week, I’m stressed about 4th quarter (we’re preparing for it now – good timing to go out of the country for the week, right?), I’m stressed about my personal life (I’m dating a guy that I don’t really like, but I like how much he likes me – yes, I know how pathetic that sounds), I’m stressed about leaving my cat in the care of Christine while I’m gone (oh please, please, please let her – my cat, not Christine – be alive when I get back), and most of all, I’m stressed about the main thing that’s REALLY making me stressed…
I quit smoking. Or I’m in the process of doing so – cold turkey (I get off on asserting my willpower…normally…well, not right now). And it’s making me…restless. Uncomfortably so.
Honestly, I’ve tried to quit in the past, but I never really wanted to so I put in a half-assed effort every time (which never works). Now I really want to quit – I think…fuck! – and I’m finding it…AGH!
(A note to everyone who is sitting there thinking ‘Smoking is a stupid and disgusting habit, she shouldn’t have started to begin with and she deserves the discomfort she’s experiencing now.’ Um, 1) Fuck you, and 2) No shit, Sherlock.)
Anyway, everything seems to be boiling down to one solid fact: I CAN’T RELAX! At all. I am dead serious here people, I am INCAPABLE of relaxing right now, and it’s driving me insane.
Most people who know me describe me as some variation of the following group of adjectives: loyal, occasionally distant/cold, funny, sarcastic, and LAID BACK. I don’t get worked up by a lot, and people comment on that! All the time. But now…
I used to get up in the morning, pop open a Red Bull/drink a cup of coffee, and have a cigarette. I used to get home from work and relax with a cigarette. I used to have a cigarette while I was reading, or watching TV. You know…relaxing stuff. Only now every time I want to relax, I can’t have a cigarette…which means I can’t relax. I can’t watch TV. I can’t read. Every time I sit down I want a cigarette, so I haven’t been sitting down when I’m at home (I never smoked during the day at work, so that’s not really a problem). Instead I pace, and stare at the clock, watching the seconds tick by, until I finally have to leave and go for a walk.
I’m a nervous breakdown waiting to happen.
I’ve also been cleaning my apartment obsessively because (stop me if you’ve heard this already) I CAN’T SIT DOWN inside of it. You know what’s also hard to do when you can’t stop pacing while at home – that’s right, eating. Most people gain weight when they quit smoking, but not me…I’m too fucking high strung to eat right now. I also can’t stop jiggling my foot.
Yup, I was a ‘relaxing smoker’ it seems – I smoked to unwind, to relax, to KEEP MYSELF STILL. Now that I can’t, I CAN’T SLOW DOWN. And I’m stressing myself out with no end in sight.
So yeah, that’s what’s going on with me. What’s up with you? Anyone still here?
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Not Tonight Alex - I Have a Headache
If I make it through this week it will be a miracle. I have 3 (fucking 3!) business dinners, meetings all day every day, a backlog of contracts that really need to be addressed at some point (yeah, I’ll get right on that Boss), and a guy who’s ALREADY driving me nuts (serves me right for thinking I could trust my judgment after 4 hours of drinking – stop texting me dude!). So what am I doing right now? Catching up on all my work/composing a text that will make Stalker Guy go away for good? Nah, I’m passing judgment on…
A-Rod.
You all knew it was coming. It seems my dirty little secret had a dirty little secret. As if I wasn’t embarrassed enough by my crush, he then had to go and make himself look like more of a jackass. Thanks sweetie.
I should probably clarify something here – I’m not embarrassed and horrified that Alex did steroids. Ignoring my slightly unusual obsession with A-Rod (shut up), I really do have my shit together regarding most things; I like to say I live in a little place called ‘reality.’ So after getting over my first reaction to the news, which was something along the lines of ‘Jesus Christ, ANOTHER one? Fucking Yankees!’ I quickly settled into my second reaction, which was ‘eh.’
Let me ask the baseball fans who visit this site something – were you surprised that A-Rod used steroids? Because I sure wasn’t. This is a dude who a) was playing during what we now refer to as the Steroid Era, and b) is known for being an insecure people-pleaser (and an inept one at that). Was there any chance he WASN’T using? Ah A-Rod, my little spastic mess.
Anyway now that a week has passed since the news broke, I can honestly say he’s handling himself…um, yeah, he’s handling himself poorly. Sorry, but it's true. The press conference on Tuesday was painful to watch. But overall my main concern is whether (or rather how much) this will affect him throughout the season. Much as I’d like to have the guy in my bed, I can honestly say I have no interest in dealing with his neuroses. So Alex, please for the love of God GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER! I need you to not fuck up this year – 2008 was painful enough for me; I like seeing my team actually win every once in a while, and you are a distraction we do not need. So step away from the microphone and get back on the field; I know you and your teammates have better ways to spend a Tuesday afternoon. Oh, and hire a new PR team – your current one sucks.
Now to take my lovely Alex’s place in my heart, I give you Frank Lampard. Ladies, he’s newly single, plays soccer (so great legs are guaranteed - seriously, look down), and is filthy rich – who wants to move to London with me?
A-Rod.
You all knew it was coming. It seems my dirty little secret had a dirty little secret. As if I wasn’t embarrassed enough by my crush, he then had to go and make himself look like more of a jackass. Thanks sweetie.
I should probably clarify something here – I’m not embarrassed and horrified that Alex did steroids. Ignoring my slightly unusual obsession with A-Rod (shut up), I really do have my shit together regarding most things; I like to say I live in a little place called ‘reality.’ So after getting over my first reaction to the news, which was something along the lines of ‘Jesus Christ, ANOTHER one? Fucking Yankees!’ I quickly settled into my second reaction, which was ‘eh.’
Let me ask the baseball fans who visit this site something – were you surprised that A-Rod used steroids? Because I sure wasn’t. This is a dude who a) was playing during what we now refer to as the Steroid Era, and b) is known for being an insecure people-pleaser (and an inept one at that). Was there any chance he WASN’T using? Ah A-Rod, my little spastic mess.
Anyway now that a week has passed since the news broke, I can honestly say he’s handling himself…um, yeah, he’s handling himself poorly. Sorry, but it's true. The press conference on Tuesday was painful to watch. But overall my main concern is whether (or rather how much) this will affect him throughout the season. Much as I’d like to have the guy in my bed, I can honestly say I have no interest in dealing with his neuroses. So Alex, please for the love of God GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER! I need you to not fuck up this year – 2008 was painful enough for me; I like seeing my team actually win every once in a while, and you are a distraction we do not need. So step away from the microphone and get back on the field; I know you and your teammates have better ways to spend a Tuesday afternoon. Oh, and hire a new PR team – your current one sucks.
Now to take my lovely Alex’s place in my heart, I give you Frank Lampard. Ladies, he’s newly single, plays soccer (so great legs are guaranteed - seriously, look down), and is filthy rich – who wants to move to London with me?
Monday, February 16, 2009
2 Years - Time Sure Does Fly By When You're Not Posting!
(Note: I was going to post this on Saturday, but then I forgot – kind of a theme around here actually.)
So I’m not going to apologize, I’m not going to offer up lengthy explanations, and I’m not going to feel guilty – I’ve been taking a break from the blog, people! However, I had to come back to celebrate the 2 year anniversary of said blog (even though, yes, my upkeep for the last 6 months has been shitty at best - and I missed the anniversary...oops). Still, if there’s anyone who still comes here…some thoughts:
Hmmm, when was the last time we spoke? Fuck, a lot has happened since then. I’ve dated and broken up with at least 2 guys – one I dated specifically because he had a really cute dog…hey, there are worse reasons to date a guy. I’m writing a book which is taking up a lot of my writing/blogging time. I’m looking to buy an apartment which is taking up a lot of my sanity (godDAMN that’s a lot of money to just fork over all at once!). Work is nuts, but at least I’m still being paid to do it (which is more than a lot of my friends can say right now). And I took some time out to discover the meaning of life (but I’m not telling you what it is – that would be cheating).
Other than that, what else has been up? Oh, I finally got around to meeting one of you nutjobs – something I swore I’d never do – so, mcbias, take a bow. Hmmm…what else…?
(Another note: Please keep in mind that I was going to post this on Saturday, so just pretend that it’s Valentine’s Day while reading – it was kind of the theme of the post and I don’t feel like rewriting everything.)
-Actually, since I didn’t post on Saturday I will give you a quick rundown of my V-Day:
Tried to go see He’s Just Not That Into You with Christine (we figured let’s just embrace our singleness), but when we got to the theater it was sold out! I hate being unoriginal.
Since we couldn’t see our movie of choice, we hit up the pub near my apartment at the ripe old hour of 7:30pm instead.
We left the pub around 2am.
Yes, I was hung over the next day.
Surprisingly I met a guy at Saturday night – something I would have bet money against doing on V-Day.
Said guy then called on Sunday (I have no memory of giving him my number), and we’re going out this week. I’ll let you know if it’s true love, otherwise you’ll probably never hear me mention him again.
-In the immortal words of my Wild Words from Wild Women daily calendar:
If you open your heart up and let all the love you have flow out of you, I promise that some highly dysfunctional, emotionally unavailable man will glom himself onto you and never let go.
-Wendy Kamenoff
Awesome.
-For all the ladies out there, a little relationship advice this fine Valentine’s Day. (Obviously not from me – I don’t know the first thing about relationships.) Anyway, here you go.
-My breakfast this morning consisted of black coffee, one of those Starbucks Double Shot espresso drinks, and a Red Bull. Help, I think I may have a problem.
-Creepy Web site I wish I’d never discovered (I need to stop giving into peer pressure): Facebook. Yes, Facebook creeps me out. I was pressured into joining, refuse to ‘friend’ anyone myself, and only go on to accept friend requests every two weeks or so. Still, what is with all the randoms out there that find you?! I kind of want to say to people ‘Um, I think we lost touch for a reason.’ But that would be mean, right?
-Worst Valentine’s Day: The time my boyfriend told me he’d rather hang out with his friends than spend the evening with me. Yup, I can really pick ‘em!
-Nice little bit of erotica to get you through a cold V-Day all alone: Cooking Up a Storm by Emma Holly. No one in this book even has a fleeting grasp of what monogamy means. It’s amazing how something that would piss me off in reality still turns me on in…bookity. (OK, so that word doesn’t exist, but I didn’t want to say ‘fantasy’ or ‘theory’ since those words weren’t quite right – sue me.)
-In honor of Valentine’s Day, I want to know what everyone’s most embarrassing sexual moment was. For me it was the time I was…um…let’s just say ‘pleasuring’ a boyfriend, and he fell asleep. Nothing fucks with your ego quite like that. So thanks Ex-Boyfriend! And no, I STILL don’t buy that it was because you’d had too much to drink, JACKASS!
Anyway, anyone have any good stories that could compete?
So I’m not going to apologize, I’m not going to offer up lengthy explanations, and I’m not going to feel guilty – I’ve been taking a break from the blog, people! However, I had to come back to celebrate the 2 year anniversary of said blog (even though, yes, my upkeep for the last 6 months has been shitty at best - and I missed the anniversary...oops). Still, if there’s anyone who still comes here…some thoughts:
Hmmm, when was the last time we spoke? Fuck, a lot has happened since then. I’ve dated and broken up with at least 2 guys – one I dated specifically because he had a really cute dog…hey, there are worse reasons to date a guy. I’m writing a book which is taking up a lot of my writing/blogging time. I’m looking to buy an apartment which is taking up a lot of my sanity (godDAMN that’s a lot of money to just fork over all at once!). Work is nuts, but at least I’m still being paid to do it (which is more than a lot of my friends can say right now). And I took some time out to discover the meaning of life (but I’m not telling you what it is – that would be cheating).
Other than that, what else has been up? Oh, I finally got around to meeting one of you nutjobs – something I swore I’d never do – so, mcbias, take a bow. Hmmm…what else…?
(Another note: Please keep in mind that I was going to post this on Saturday, so just pretend that it’s Valentine’s Day while reading – it was kind of the theme of the post and I don’t feel like rewriting everything.)
-Actually, since I didn’t post on Saturday I will give you a quick rundown of my V-Day:
Tried to go see He’s Just Not That Into You with Christine (we figured let’s just embrace our singleness), but when we got to the theater it was sold out! I hate being unoriginal.
Since we couldn’t see our movie of choice, we hit up the pub near my apartment at the ripe old hour of 7:30pm instead.
We left the pub around 2am.
Yes, I was hung over the next day.
Surprisingly I met a guy at Saturday night – something I would have bet money against doing on V-Day.
Said guy then called on Sunday (I have no memory of giving him my number), and we’re going out this week. I’ll let you know if it’s true love, otherwise you’ll probably never hear me mention him again.
-In the immortal words of my Wild Words from Wild Women daily calendar:
If you open your heart up and let all the love you have flow out of you, I promise that some highly dysfunctional, emotionally unavailable man will glom himself onto you and never let go.
-Wendy Kamenoff
Awesome.
-For all the ladies out there, a little relationship advice this fine Valentine’s Day. (Obviously not from me – I don’t know the first thing about relationships.) Anyway, here you go.
-My breakfast this morning consisted of black coffee, one of those Starbucks Double Shot espresso drinks, and a Red Bull. Help, I think I may have a problem.
-Creepy Web site I wish I’d never discovered (I need to stop giving into peer pressure): Facebook. Yes, Facebook creeps me out. I was pressured into joining, refuse to ‘friend’ anyone myself, and only go on to accept friend requests every two weeks or so. Still, what is with all the randoms out there that find you?! I kind of want to say to people ‘Um, I think we lost touch for a reason.’ But that would be mean, right?
-Worst Valentine’s Day: The time my boyfriend told me he’d rather hang out with his friends than spend the evening with me. Yup, I can really pick ‘em!
-Nice little bit of erotica to get you through a cold V-Day all alone: Cooking Up a Storm by Emma Holly. No one in this book even has a fleeting grasp of what monogamy means. It’s amazing how something that would piss me off in reality still turns me on in…bookity. (OK, so that word doesn’t exist, but I didn’t want to say ‘fantasy’ or ‘theory’ since those words weren’t quite right – sue me.)
-In honor of Valentine’s Day, I want to know what everyone’s most embarrassing sexual moment was. For me it was the time I was…um…let’s just say ‘pleasuring’ a boyfriend, and he fell asleep. Nothing fucks with your ego quite like that. So thanks Ex-Boyfriend! And no, I STILL don’t buy that it was because you’d had too much to drink, JACKASS!
Anyway, anyone have any good stories that could compete?
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Hello Everybody!!!!!!
I’m in a bizarrely good mood right now – not sure why, but let’s go with it. I’ve been having some thoughts on life, me, and whatnot lately. Yeah...so...:
-Computers hate me. No seriously, they turn on me every chance they get. Most recent example: I got a virus on my work computer last week, and it started to attack my company’s mainframe. The person I called in IT (I speak to her almost every other day as it is) could not stop laughing at me. Our computers are supposed to be very difficult to infect – or so they say. I didn't find it difficult at all; the one I picked up (somewhere, we’re not sure where) took them 2 DAYS to clear out. What can I say, I’m gifted.
-Boys are weird. So I went on a date Saturday night, and the guy spent an abnormally long time discussing my hands. And my fingers. I…wasn’t aware this was a fetish people had. I knew about the whole foot thing, but hands? Yeah, I finally had to kind of blurt out ‘Can we stop talking about my extremities?’ Which doesn’t make for a great date, but hey, the herbed French fries at the restaurant well made up for any awkwardness I had to endure.
-I’m completely out of Christmas gift ideas for my parents. What do you get people who already have everything? I’m running out of time here people! Help me!
-I may very well be attempting to eat my body weight in chocolate this holiday season – I’ll keep you all updated on my progress as I’m sure you want to know how that goes.
-I just bought a pair of 5 inch heeled Mary Jane’s. Now I ask you people, what does a woman who’s already 5’8" need with a pair of shoes that high? Am I trying to do my best impersonation of an Amazon? I’m starting to wonder if I truly do enjoy scaring men away. (Oh who am I kidding – of course I love scaring men.)
-I’m currently looking to buy an apartment – I figure hey, let’s jump in and take advantage of the current economic carnage. Having said that, I a) hate looking at apartments – that’s about as much fun to me as getting stabbed in the eye, and b) I feel a wave of nausea hit me every time I do the math on what the down payment would have to be on one of those places. Guh – maybe I’ll keep throwing my money away and renting.
-Christmas parties are the shit. I love open bars.
-So I think I’m being set up with a cop for New Year’s. What are the odds that I’ll say or do something during the course of the night that will get me arrested? Do cops often try to arrest the stupid/obnoxious girls they get fixed up with? This is kind of a departure from my usual type (lawyers, finance guys, and the occasional bartender for variety), but I’m sort of excited actually. Anyone have tips on what we can talk about? Besides the obvious of course: Want to show me your handcuffs?
-I was babysitting my nephews on Friday night, and the inevitable happened – I had to change a diaper. So there I was changing the diaper on the younger one, and his older brother was standing around waiting for me to finish. Now admittedly, my technique is not what it could be (I am intentionally out of practice), but I will say I was a little embarrassed when P (the older nephew), took one look at my handiwork and said, ‘You may want to use two Aunt Redhead. That one isn’t going to make it through the night.’ Schooled by a 3 year old. Story of my life.
-So it took me all of a week to lose the holder thingee that came with my new Blackberry. This means that instead of being safely ensconced in a protective shell, my Blackberry now spends its time bouncing around my purse being abused. It also means that sometimes the darn thing ends up calling people without my knowledge. (Note: I hate when people do this to me *cough, MOM, cough*.) Anyway, so apparently this happened to my sister yesterday. She got a call from my cell phone, answered, and instead of hearing my voice she got to listen to…I don’t know, the muffled sounds of the inside of my purse I guess.
Now as someone who’s gotten these annoying calls before, I realize there’s often a brief moment where you think ‘Either this moron called me without realizing it, or this person has been abducted and is calling me to save them.’ I normally decide it’s option 1 pretty quickly, but I am paranoid enough to always call the person back to make sure. My sister…well, not so much. I got a phone call at 9 last night that went a little something like this:
Sister: I’m just calling to make sure you’re alive.
Redhead: Yup, I’m alive. Why? Did you put a hit out on me?
Sister: Nope, I just got a muffled phone call from you at around 5. I figured you’d called by accident, but I just wanted to make sure.
Redhead: So you called 4 hours later?
Sister: Uh huh.
Redhead: Remind me never to call you if I’m stuffed in the trunk of a car.
Sister: Well I hope you’d call the police if you were stuffed in the trunk of a car.
Redhead: Fair point. So what’s up?
-Dog story of the post: We got S when I was 6 years old. T had passed away right before we moved into a new house, and my father had been VERY clear that he didn’t want to get a new puppy right away. We had just carpeted the whole place after all.
My mother listened…um, not at all. She essentially waited until my father had finished speaking, nodded her head that she understood, and left the room to make some phone calls about a litter of boxer puppies one town over. She then took me with her to pick out the new baby in the family.
S was so fucking cute. Just all gangly and drooly with her brindle fur, black face, and big brown eyes. Oh, and she had this bottom tooth that stuck out over her lip – it stayed that way throughout her life (no braces for her!). I loved her at first sight.
So my mother gathered up S and brought her home. When my father walked in the door after work that day, he saw my mother sitting there with a puppy in her arms. She had blatantly ignored him! And he was pissed for...roughly 30 seconds – that’s the amount of time it took for my mother to stand up, walk over, and place the new puppy in his arms. After that it was over; he was in love. Who can deny a boxer puppy after all?
More stories about S to come.
-Computers hate me. No seriously, they turn on me every chance they get. Most recent example: I got a virus on my work computer last week, and it started to attack my company’s mainframe. The person I called in IT (I speak to her almost every other day as it is) could not stop laughing at me. Our computers are supposed to be very difficult to infect – or so they say. I didn't find it difficult at all; the one I picked up (somewhere, we’re not sure where) took them 2 DAYS to clear out. What can I say, I’m gifted.
-Boys are weird. So I went on a date Saturday night, and the guy spent an abnormally long time discussing my hands. And my fingers. I…wasn’t aware this was a fetish people had. I knew about the whole foot thing, but hands? Yeah, I finally had to kind of blurt out ‘Can we stop talking about my extremities?’ Which doesn’t make for a great date, but hey, the herbed French fries at the restaurant well made up for any awkwardness I had to endure.
-I’m completely out of Christmas gift ideas for my parents. What do you get people who already have everything? I’m running out of time here people! Help me!
-I may very well be attempting to eat my body weight in chocolate this holiday season – I’ll keep you all updated on my progress as I’m sure you want to know how that goes.
-I just bought a pair of 5 inch heeled Mary Jane’s. Now I ask you people, what does a woman who’s already 5’8" need with a pair of shoes that high? Am I trying to do my best impersonation of an Amazon? I’m starting to wonder if I truly do enjoy scaring men away. (Oh who am I kidding – of course I love scaring men.)
-I’m currently looking to buy an apartment – I figure hey, let’s jump in and take advantage of the current economic carnage. Having said that, I a) hate looking at apartments – that’s about as much fun to me as getting stabbed in the eye, and b) I feel a wave of nausea hit me every time I do the math on what the down payment would have to be on one of those places. Guh – maybe I’ll keep throwing my money away and renting.
-Christmas parties are the shit. I love open bars.
-So I think I’m being set up with a cop for New Year’s. What are the odds that I’ll say or do something during the course of the night that will get me arrested? Do cops often try to arrest the stupid/obnoxious girls they get fixed up with? This is kind of a departure from my usual type (lawyers, finance guys, and the occasional bartender for variety), but I’m sort of excited actually. Anyone have tips on what we can talk about? Besides the obvious of course: Want to show me your handcuffs?
-I was babysitting my nephews on Friday night, and the inevitable happened – I had to change a diaper. So there I was changing the diaper on the younger one, and his older brother was standing around waiting for me to finish. Now admittedly, my technique is not what it could be (I am intentionally out of practice), but I will say I was a little embarrassed when P (the older nephew), took one look at my handiwork and said, ‘You may want to use two Aunt Redhead. That one isn’t going to make it through the night.’ Schooled by a 3 year old. Story of my life.
-So it took me all of a week to lose the holder thingee that came with my new Blackberry. This means that instead of being safely ensconced in a protective shell, my Blackberry now spends its time bouncing around my purse being abused. It also means that sometimes the darn thing ends up calling people without my knowledge. (Note: I hate when people do this to me *cough, MOM, cough*.) Anyway, so apparently this happened to my sister yesterday. She got a call from my cell phone, answered, and instead of hearing my voice she got to listen to…I don’t know, the muffled sounds of the inside of my purse I guess.
Now as someone who’s gotten these annoying calls before, I realize there’s often a brief moment where you think ‘Either this moron called me without realizing it, or this person has been abducted and is calling me to save them.’ I normally decide it’s option 1 pretty quickly, but I am paranoid enough to always call the person back to make sure. My sister…well, not so much. I got a phone call at 9 last night that went a little something like this:
Sister: I’m just calling to make sure you’re alive.
Redhead: Yup, I’m alive. Why? Did you put a hit out on me?
Sister: Nope, I just got a muffled phone call from you at around 5. I figured you’d called by accident, but I just wanted to make sure.
Redhead: So you called 4 hours later?
Sister: Uh huh.
Redhead: Remind me never to call you if I’m stuffed in the trunk of a car.
Sister: Well I hope you’d call the police if you were stuffed in the trunk of a car.
Redhead: Fair point. So what’s up?
-Dog story of the post: We got S when I was 6 years old. T had passed away right before we moved into a new house, and my father had been VERY clear that he didn’t want to get a new puppy right away. We had just carpeted the whole place after all.
My mother listened…um, not at all. She essentially waited until my father had finished speaking, nodded her head that she understood, and left the room to make some phone calls about a litter of boxer puppies one town over. She then took me with her to pick out the new baby in the family.
S was so fucking cute. Just all gangly and drooly with her brindle fur, black face, and big brown eyes. Oh, and she had this bottom tooth that stuck out over her lip – it stayed that way throughout her life (no braces for her!). I loved her at first sight.
So my mother gathered up S and brought her home. When my father walked in the door after work that day, he saw my mother sitting there with a puppy in her arms. She had blatantly ignored him! And he was pissed for...roughly 30 seconds – that’s the amount of time it took for my mother to stand up, walk over, and place the new puppy in his arms. After that it was over; he was in love. Who can deny a boxer puppy after all?
More stories about S to come.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
(Clears Throat)
Hello…hello…anyone there? Sorry about the layoff – not sure if people are still reading this stupid blog, but if so an update:
-The family is doing much better after the loss of R. We still miss her, but we’ve moved into the ‘telling funny stories about her and remembering the good times’ stage – this isn’t hard since she was a nutter of the first order. I’ll be ending blog posts with dog stories for at least a little while. Oh, and my mom is already trolling Boxer Rescue sites looking at the puppies; my dad wants to wait until spring to get a new doggie, but I give my mom another month before she can’t stand NOT having a dog in the house.
-Thanksgiving was great – we ate ridiculous amounts of food, played with my nephews (fyi, my youngest nephew freaking LOVES me – the feeling is mutual – and we’ve now totally bonded…he has me completely wrapped around his finger), and drank heavily. It was awesome.
-It seems like a rule that no matter how old you get, your parents can still make you do things you don’t want to do. Case in point: Somehow my parents made us all (the ‘kids’ I mean), sit down for a picture that would go on (not in, ON) their Christmas card. How old are we? Well, besides the nephews, the youngest one in that picture was…me. Do people really want to see a card senders' fully grown children? I didn't think so - my mother is so strange. On the plus side, my aforementioned younger nephew totally blew off his own mother to sit on my lap. Yes, I’m that amazing.
-Went to a great restaurant not last weekend but the weekend before that, and they had fondue as one of the appetizers. Not to get all ‘70s on you people, but is there anything better than dipping stuff in melted cheese? If there is, I haven’t found it. Fucking awesome.
-Funniest night in a while yesterday. Went to dinner with some people that I used to work with – we all survived working for my last company, and that sort of bonded us; we meet every other month or so to catch up. Anyway, one of the people who was there was my old…well, I guess the only word for her is mentor. When I started out in publishing I was an editorial assistant and she was an executive VP. She was loud, she cursed A LOT, and she was (and is) freaking brilliant. Within 6 months of my arriving at the company she took me out to lunch and said ‘You’re too smart to be an assistant, I’m making you an editor.’ Seriously, does that shit ever happen in real life?
Anyway, my mentor was there – she’s 70 now and retired (only not really), still loud, still brash, and still fucking awesome. So I’m standing there talking to a guy I also used to work with (married, but male), and Mentor comes up to me and without any preamble at all says, ‘Redhead, I never realized what fabulous tits you have!’ Cue the guy I was talking to just turning beet red. Some background here – it was hot in the restaurant, so I had taken off my sweater and was just wearing a tank top. Obviously I never wore tank tops to work, so that part of my anatomy had never been quite as on display as it was at that moment…I guess. Either way, nothing Mentor says really shocks me anymore, but that one did the trick. Married Guy (who had been drinking) recoved enough to freaking AGREE. And of course, this started a conversation amongst everyone about my physical attributes. Was this horribly embarrassing? Yes. But I did get to hear that my hair reminds someone of a ‘pre-Raphaelite painting.’ I would have preferred Titian, but beggars can’t be choosers.
On a side note, yes, I’m as surprised as you are that Mentor has never been sued for sexual harassment. I mean, I don’t think she should be – she never means to make anyone uncomfortable, we’re all just too goddamn sensitive – but still…she truly doesn’t edit ANYTHING that comes out of her mouth.
-I just read all of the Stephanie Meyer vampire books – TWILIGHT etc. – and I have to say…I don’t get it. I’m not going to ruin anything here (not that I imagine you guys are into those kinds of books, but I DO work in children’s books, and I kind of wanted to know what all the fuss was about, so…), but what the fuck?! With the exception of the first two books in the series (there are four), I actively disliked most of the characters. The first two books were nothing special, but fine. But the last two…?! I will say this and then I will stop – I don’t like Bella. At all. And Edward is a pussy. Okay, I’m done.
-My sister is back together with her boyfriend. I’ve stopped getting worked up over it. I barely blinked when they broke up after the election – yes, the douchebag actually broke up with her because she voted for Obama (see, I told you he was an asshole of epic proportions). But now…I’m fine. I see all of this as progress – on my part, obviously not on theirs since they’ve learned NOTHING in the past 3 years. But I digress…see how serene I am?
-For those who are wondering, my back is much better. This is all thanks for my grandmother and her magical prescription muscle relaxants that she ‘lent’ me. Yes, as I’ve taken to saying, my grandmother is now my drug dealer. Rock on.
-Today’s dog story: We got T before I was born – she was a boxer of course. So cute, so sweet, and such a boxer (for those who know the breed, you'll understand that comment). Whenever my mother came home from…wherever really, T would jump into her arms for a hug. Literally jump into her arms. My mother would come in the front door, and T would run up a few steps on the staircase, turn around, and leap into my mother’s arms. She would put one paw over each shoulder like she was trying to actually hug. My mother still jokes that it would make bringing home groceries MUCH more difficult, since if she didn’t grab onto T during one of those hugs, well, I’m sure you guys can figure out what would happen.
So damn cute.
Anyway, once I was born T decided that I must be hers. She would sleep beside my crib. She would follow me everywhere. She even tried to get me to share her food (thankfully I didn’t take her up on those offers…right Mom?!). She thought I was her puppy. So imagine her concern when I started to try to walk on two feet. She was baffled, and concerned. So concerned that every time I tried to stand she would, very gently, nudge me back to the ground. When I tried to simply sit up she would push me to all fours. She was…I guess…on a mission to make me normal. Sadly she failed as much as my parents did on that one. But damn, she was a good dog. And I did eventually learn to walk, so no harm no foul!
Is it any wonder I love animals with that kind of start in life?
Sidenote: For everyone who commented on my last post and didn't get a reponse, it wasn't because I wasn't really touched by what you said - I was upset and then I got really busy and then it seemed like I'd let too much time pass, and... Anyway, that's my typically awkward way of saying I really appreciated it, I loved reading your stories, and I suck.
-The family is doing much better after the loss of R. We still miss her, but we’ve moved into the ‘telling funny stories about her and remembering the good times’ stage – this isn’t hard since she was a nutter of the first order. I’ll be ending blog posts with dog stories for at least a little while. Oh, and my mom is already trolling Boxer Rescue sites looking at the puppies; my dad wants to wait until spring to get a new doggie, but I give my mom another month before she can’t stand NOT having a dog in the house.
-Thanksgiving was great – we ate ridiculous amounts of food, played with my nephews (fyi, my youngest nephew freaking LOVES me – the feeling is mutual – and we’ve now totally bonded…he has me completely wrapped around his finger), and drank heavily. It was awesome.
-It seems like a rule that no matter how old you get, your parents can still make you do things you don’t want to do. Case in point: Somehow my parents made us all (the ‘kids’ I mean), sit down for a picture that would go on (not in, ON) their Christmas card. How old are we? Well, besides the nephews, the youngest one in that picture was…me. Do people really want to see a card senders' fully grown children? I didn't think so - my mother is so strange. On the plus side, my aforementioned younger nephew totally blew off his own mother to sit on my lap. Yes, I’m that amazing.
-Went to a great restaurant not last weekend but the weekend before that, and they had fondue as one of the appetizers. Not to get all ‘70s on you people, but is there anything better than dipping stuff in melted cheese? If there is, I haven’t found it. Fucking awesome.
-Funniest night in a while yesterday. Went to dinner with some people that I used to work with – we all survived working for my last company, and that sort of bonded us; we meet every other month or so to catch up. Anyway, one of the people who was there was my old…well, I guess the only word for her is mentor. When I started out in publishing I was an editorial assistant and she was an executive VP. She was loud, she cursed A LOT, and she was (and is) freaking brilliant. Within 6 months of my arriving at the company she took me out to lunch and said ‘You’re too smart to be an assistant, I’m making you an editor.’ Seriously, does that shit ever happen in real life?
Anyway, my mentor was there – she’s 70 now and retired (only not really), still loud, still brash, and still fucking awesome. So I’m standing there talking to a guy I also used to work with (married, but male), and Mentor comes up to me and without any preamble at all says, ‘Redhead, I never realized what fabulous tits you have!’ Cue the guy I was talking to just turning beet red. Some background here – it was hot in the restaurant, so I had taken off my sweater and was just wearing a tank top. Obviously I never wore tank tops to work, so that part of my anatomy had never been quite as on display as it was at that moment…I guess. Either way, nothing Mentor says really shocks me anymore, but that one did the trick. Married Guy (who had been drinking) recoved enough to freaking AGREE. And of course, this started a conversation amongst everyone about my physical attributes. Was this horribly embarrassing? Yes. But I did get to hear that my hair reminds someone of a ‘pre-Raphaelite painting.’ I would have preferred Titian, but beggars can’t be choosers.
On a side note, yes, I’m as surprised as you are that Mentor has never been sued for sexual harassment. I mean, I don’t think she should be – she never means to make anyone uncomfortable, we’re all just too goddamn sensitive – but still…she truly doesn’t edit ANYTHING that comes out of her mouth.
-I just read all of the Stephanie Meyer vampire books – TWILIGHT etc. – and I have to say…I don’t get it. I’m not going to ruin anything here (not that I imagine you guys are into those kinds of books, but I DO work in children’s books, and I kind of wanted to know what all the fuss was about, so…), but what the fuck?! With the exception of the first two books in the series (there are four), I actively disliked most of the characters. The first two books were nothing special, but fine. But the last two…?! I will say this and then I will stop – I don’t like Bella. At all. And Edward is a pussy. Okay, I’m done.
-My sister is back together with her boyfriend. I’ve stopped getting worked up over it. I barely blinked when they broke up after the election – yes, the douchebag actually broke up with her because she voted for Obama (see, I told you he was an asshole of epic proportions). But now…I’m fine. I see all of this as progress – on my part, obviously not on theirs since they’ve learned NOTHING in the past 3 years. But I digress…see how serene I am?
-For those who are wondering, my back is much better. This is all thanks for my grandmother and her magical prescription muscle relaxants that she ‘lent’ me. Yes, as I’ve taken to saying, my grandmother is now my drug dealer. Rock on.
-Today’s dog story: We got T before I was born – she was a boxer of course. So cute, so sweet, and such a boxer (for those who know the breed, you'll understand that comment). Whenever my mother came home from…wherever really, T would jump into her arms for a hug. Literally jump into her arms. My mother would come in the front door, and T would run up a few steps on the staircase, turn around, and leap into my mother’s arms. She would put one paw over each shoulder like she was trying to actually hug. My mother still jokes that it would make bringing home groceries MUCH more difficult, since if she didn’t grab onto T during one of those hugs, well, I’m sure you guys can figure out what would happen.
So damn cute.
Anyway, once I was born T decided that I must be hers. She would sleep beside my crib. She would follow me everywhere. She even tried to get me to share her food (thankfully I didn’t take her up on those offers…right Mom?!). She thought I was her puppy. So imagine her concern when I started to try to walk on two feet. She was baffled, and concerned. So concerned that every time I tried to stand she would, very gently, nudge me back to the ground. When I tried to simply sit up she would push me to all fours. She was…I guess…on a mission to make me normal. Sadly she failed as much as my parents did on that one. But damn, she was a good dog. And I did eventually learn to walk, so no harm no foul!
Is it any wonder I love animals with that kind of start in life?
Sidenote: For everyone who commented on my last post and didn't get a reponse, it wasn't because I wasn't really touched by what you said - I was upset and then I got really busy and then it seemed like I'd let too much time pass, and... Anyway, that's my typically awkward way of saying I really appreciated it, I loved reading your stories, and I suck.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
I Hurt Right Now
I haven’t posted recently – I’m not going to apologize for it, I’ve had some personal stuff going on. And honestly I’m not really up to writing right now, but I will say this for those of you who have emailed me asking what’s up…
On Monday we put my dog, R, to sleep. I picked her out when I was in high school, I loved her more than I could ever love a person (probably because dogs can love more than people are truly capable), and I feel horrible right now. I know we did the right thing, but being a selfish person I still miss her and wish she was here. However she trusted us enough to know that we wouldn’t let her suffer, and we couldn’t and wouldn’t let her down. So for now I’m dealing with the occasional bouts of crying – my assistant was dumbfounded on Monday as she said ‘I didn’t even know you could cry’ – and I’m trying to compartmentalize and keep it together while at work.
My behavior may seem strange and like an overreaction to some, but to those people I simply say, Fuck You. My father cried on Monday; my father never cries. My grandmother cried when we told her; she didn’t cry when her husband of over 50 years died, because as she put it, ‘What does crying accomplish?’ My mother has commented that this is, ‘As hard – maybe harder – than when my mother died.’
R is not the first dog we’ve lost – her sister B passed away 2 ½ years ago and it was soul-destroying as well. We lost S and T before that, and those dogs practically raised me. And…it never gets any easier. As my mother put it, ‘The house always seemed like just the right size with dogs in it. Now it’s just…too big.’ I understand perfectly.
So to R, B, S, and T – I still love all of you, I miss you, and I didn’t deserve a fraction of the joy each of you gave me. This sucks, but I’d still do it all over again because the good times far outweighed the bad.
I may be telling some funny/cute/weird dog stories in the week to come, so if you’re not interested don’t bother stopping by. As for today, I’ll simply end with this: I loved them all as selflessly as I could. They were better at it, but I did my best.
On Monday we put my dog, R, to sleep. I picked her out when I was in high school, I loved her more than I could ever love a person (probably because dogs can love more than people are truly capable), and I feel horrible right now. I know we did the right thing, but being a selfish person I still miss her and wish she was here. However she trusted us enough to know that we wouldn’t let her suffer, and we couldn’t and wouldn’t let her down. So for now I’m dealing with the occasional bouts of crying – my assistant was dumbfounded on Monday as she said ‘I didn’t even know you could cry’ – and I’m trying to compartmentalize and keep it together while at work.
My behavior may seem strange and like an overreaction to some, but to those people I simply say, Fuck You. My father cried on Monday; my father never cries. My grandmother cried when we told her; she didn’t cry when her husband of over 50 years died, because as she put it, ‘What does crying accomplish?’ My mother has commented that this is, ‘As hard – maybe harder – than when my mother died.’
R is not the first dog we’ve lost – her sister B passed away 2 ½ years ago and it was soul-destroying as well. We lost S and T before that, and those dogs practically raised me. And…it never gets any easier. As my mother put it, ‘The house always seemed like just the right size with dogs in it. Now it’s just…too big.’ I understand perfectly.
So to R, B, S, and T – I still love all of you, I miss you, and I didn’t deserve a fraction of the joy each of you gave me. This sucks, but I’d still do it all over again because the good times far outweighed the bad.
I may be telling some funny/cute/weird dog stories in the week to come, so if you’re not interested don’t bother stopping by. As for today, I’ll simply end with this: I loved them all as selflessly as I could. They were better at it, but I did my best.
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