Hello all,
It has been a while since I have written, I know. Don’t hate me. I have been choreographing for my high school’s show choir, and I thought if I had enough time to be writing on the blog; I should be choreographing.
In one of my old blogs (A B C Spells I Am Hot) I talked about Mr. C, a guy from Chicago. Since then we talked more and more and more to the point where if we are not talking on the phone we are in the middle of a texting conversation, which I find tedious and annoying. He has been very kind to me, giving me attention, and always saying that he was planning on coming to see me because I am the cutest guy.
He has had a few dates while we’ve been talking and I’ve not worried about us being something or nothing. I really can’t handle a relationship right now especially with someone who’s not going to sweep into my life and make the relationship happen; in short, I don’t want to work for a relationship right now. Yeah, I said it. I DON’T WANT TO WORK FOR A RELATIONSHIP.
Anyways, we were chatting yesterday and he said that he was wished he had a boyfriend, insinuating that that should be me. I said “Well, it’s not like you’re being held captive in your house. Go out and find one.” If he wants to make “us” happen, make it happen. Right? Right. Well, later on he mentioned that he was having a guy spend the weekend, who lives hours away, who he liked, but didn’t know if he should date because they’ve never pursued a relationship and he’s HIV+. (!!!!!)
Jigga whaaa?!?!? Read that last paragraph again and find how many crazy/questionable things pop out at you. I count about 127. I got a little pissy for 2 reasons:
1. Isn’t he interested in me? Calling me all day, every day? Sending me explicit pictures? Always talking about coming to see me? Now a guy who lives hours away and is HIV+ is a better catch than flexible me?
2. He texted me this during American Idol and then told me he didn’t like Adam Lambert. Blasphemy!
Later on in the evening his power went out and he texted me that he wished he had someone to cuddle with (Yuck, I know). I told him that he better call his “weekend friend” because as best I could recall cuddling is a non-fluid-transferable safe activity that he could enjoy with his new friend. Somewhere in his brain this comment was flagged as sarcastic and aggressive. He asked me what I wanted him to do or say. I said I’m not telling you how to act and if you wanted to us to be anything than we would and we’re not so you don’t.
He didn’t think that I wanted him to try to make a relationship happen (Are you tired of this yet?) and he wanted to respect my boundaries and chaotic life. There was more to it than that, but was way too pedantic to commit to memory. Abruptly, he said he was sorry for the confusion, he was going to bed, and goodnight.
There is nothing more infuriating than being nicely dumped by someone you weren’t even dating to begin with. Ug. I wasn’t even that interested in him, it was just nice to have someone to talk to- I love attention. I mean seriously, he wasn’t too cute, bought suits from Men’s Warehouse, and is in talks to buy a butcher shop from his grandpa. Yes that makes my stomach flip, but in the wrong way.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Twiterpated
Hello all,
Sweet Jesus, it was a rough day at work! Other than a few highlights, the most exciting thing was wondering if I would stab my own thigh so that I could leave early. The day usually goes by without much hassle but every single person sucked the life right out of me.
Sometimes to make time pass I make awkward conversations with kids just to hear what they’ll say. It’s like a really cheap version of “Kids Say the Darndest Things”, which usually makes me think if dardest is a word……anyways.
Me: Hello.
Kid: Hello.
Me: How are you?
Kid: How are you?
Me: Good.
Kid: Good.
Me: Can you just repeat me?
Kid: Can you just repeat me?
Me: You’re like a parrot.
Kid: Ha ha! You’re a pirate!
Me: You’re ridiculous!
Kid: You’re dick-licious!!!
Omigod! How did that kid know my fallback porn name? It was probably just a coincidence…………. or was it?
During my breaks I usually play solitaire on my iPod while I listen to Broadway music, but today I decided to watch downhill skiing on TV and I overheard a conversation between two high school boys.
Boy A: Hi, how are you?
Boy B: Fine.
Boy A: Yeah, me too. Do you play sports?
Boy B: …….yeah.
Boy A: Yeah, I could tell. You have a really muscular body. Are you really popular?
Boy B: Um, I dunno.
Boy A: I bet you are. If you play spots and have all of those muscles, I bet you’re popular. You’re really good looking.
Honest to God!! It was like watching the exposition of an underage gay porno. I clearly went to the wrong high school. All the time I spent imagining something like this would happen to me 10 years ago and there it is in the break room at work. This kid had balls too, I mean he was retarded, like actually retarded, developmentally slow, his mom helps him with the carts, but the chutzpa this kid had, it was impressive. I don’t know whether he was gay or just idolized the other boy’s attributes and didn’t know how to be more nonchalant about it. If I could live my life again, I would definitely pretend to be slow and start conversations with the hottest boys in my high school to see if anything stuck or not.
Speaking of hot boys in high school. Today I saw my 2 biggest high school crushes. In the same day! I know!! I was a blabbering idiot again. I couldn’t put a coherent sentence together and they were as hot as they ever were……… well, one was balder and the other slightly thicker, but they still had the same effect on me. One was in my show choir and the other went to Florida with family when I was in high school.
I sat right next to the one in my show choir; he had/has hair like Uncle Jesse from Full House, ranked 4th in his class and is oh so dreamy. Once when I auditioned for a solo I stood up, sang, and was applauded for my strong vibrato by the director. Truth be told, before I got up to sing, the guy next to me patted my knee and wished me well right before I stood up. I was so flustered that my whole body was shaking resulting in a vibrato. Best day ever.
With the other guy in Florida, it was a fantasy come to life. Now, normally I hate the sun. I burn in January, I wear SPF 80+, and I am self conscience about having my shirt off, but all I know is that while I was around him at the pool I had no idea how hot it was, what I was wearing, or who noticed me drop-jawed staring at him. He had a chest twice the size of his waist, arms the size of my thighs, abs that were extraordinarily developed from protein shakes and early morning workouts and was dripping wet, I was in heaven until the next day when I was severely burnt from sitting out in the sun for hours watching him get in and out of the pool and sit next to me to work on his tan. After we came back from spring break and I saw him in the hall I would stare at him walking past me and see him in nothing but those blue swim trunks. I don’t think he ever noticed me at school until I kept on running into the wall as I walked past him.
I was going to plan being a more successful adult but now I have a new plan:
1. Acquire time machine.
2. Act retarded to seduce high school crushes.
3. Get someone who can invest money wisely so I’ll be rich in the future like they did in “Back to the Future Part II”
4. Sit back with whichever one of my high school doesn’t get too fat or bald and watch the money roll in.
Flawless.
Sweet Jesus, it was a rough day at work! Other than a few highlights, the most exciting thing was wondering if I would stab my own thigh so that I could leave early. The day usually goes by without much hassle but every single person sucked the life right out of me.
Sometimes to make time pass I make awkward conversations with kids just to hear what they’ll say. It’s like a really cheap version of “Kids Say the Darndest Things”, which usually makes me think if dardest is a word……anyways.
Me: Hello.
Kid: Hello.
Me: How are you?
Kid: How are you?
Me: Good.
Kid: Good.
Me: Can you just repeat me?
Kid: Can you just repeat me?
Me: You’re like a parrot.
Kid: Ha ha! You’re a pirate!
Me: You’re ridiculous!
Kid: You’re dick-licious!!!
Omigod! How did that kid know my fallback porn name? It was probably just a coincidence…………. or was it?
During my breaks I usually play solitaire on my iPod while I listen to Broadway music, but today I decided to watch downhill skiing on TV and I overheard a conversation between two high school boys.
Boy A: Hi, how are you?
Boy B: Fine.
Boy A: Yeah, me too. Do you play sports?
Boy B: …….yeah.
Boy A: Yeah, I could tell. You have a really muscular body. Are you really popular?
Boy B: Um, I dunno.
Boy A: I bet you are. If you play spots and have all of those muscles, I bet you’re popular. You’re really good looking.
Honest to God!! It was like watching the exposition of an underage gay porno. I clearly went to the wrong high school. All the time I spent imagining something like this would happen to me 10 years ago and there it is in the break room at work. This kid had balls too, I mean he was retarded, like actually retarded, developmentally slow, his mom helps him with the carts, but the chutzpa this kid had, it was impressive. I don’t know whether he was gay or just idolized the other boy’s attributes and didn’t know how to be more nonchalant about it. If I could live my life again, I would definitely pretend to be slow and start conversations with the hottest boys in my high school to see if anything stuck or not.
Speaking of hot boys in high school. Today I saw my 2 biggest high school crushes. In the same day! I know!! I was a blabbering idiot again. I couldn’t put a coherent sentence together and they were as hot as they ever were……… well, one was balder and the other slightly thicker, but they still had the same effect on me. One was in my show choir and the other went to Florida with family when I was in high school.
I sat right next to the one in my show choir; he had/has hair like Uncle Jesse from Full House, ranked 4th in his class and is oh so dreamy. Once when I auditioned for a solo I stood up, sang, and was applauded for my strong vibrato by the director. Truth be told, before I got up to sing, the guy next to me patted my knee and wished me well right before I stood up. I was so flustered that my whole body was shaking resulting in a vibrato. Best day ever.
With the other guy in Florida, it was a fantasy come to life. Now, normally I hate the sun. I burn in January, I wear SPF 80+, and I am self conscience about having my shirt off, but all I know is that while I was around him at the pool I had no idea how hot it was, what I was wearing, or who noticed me drop-jawed staring at him. He had a chest twice the size of his waist, arms the size of my thighs, abs that were extraordinarily developed from protein shakes and early morning workouts and was dripping wet, I was in heaven until the next day when I was severely burnt from sitting out in the sun for hours watching him get in and out of the pool and sit next to me to work on his tan. After we came back from spring break and I saw him in the hall I would stare at him walking past me and see him in nothing but those blue swim trunks. I don’t think he ever noticed me at school until I kept on running into the wall as I walked past him.
I was going to plan being a more successful adult but now I have a new plan:
1. Acquire time machine.
2. Act retarded to seduce high school crushes.
3. Get someone who can invest money wisely so I’ll be rich in the future like they did in “Back to the Future Part II”
4. Sit back with whichever one of my high school doesn’t get too fat or bald and watch the money roll in.
Flawless.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Ding Dong the Relationship Is Dead
Hello all,
Finally last night Fuckhead ended his side of the relationship. After months of back and forth, me phone stalking him, and him not sending me my things, he finally answered me. I have been trying to get him to answer a simple yes or no question and he answered no at last.
If he answered yes I would be working on a relationship with him right now and since he said no I at least don't feel a need to contact him. That was a gift in itself. As you know, I have too much on my plate and could not handle the unanswered question, because the chance of getting back together was something to hope for and that hope was driving me crazy while unrequited.
I got to end things just as I wanted. I told him that I hope he continues with his success (that he sucked right from my very loins), that he find someone that fits his life better (he said that he compared everyone to me and no one was as special, ahem, ahem bull crap and no duh), and that he should NEVER come find me cause I would turn my life up side down because I love him and because I love him so much I would drop everything for him, I always will, and I can't live my life knowing that he would ever want me again.
Drama, right? I was crying the whole phone call, with him saying that he loved me, no one was like me and that he was going to come see me. But, when he finally said no, I finally pulled my life out of my ass and walked away with a small scrap of dignity while he wept on the other end of the phone.
I thought he was going to say yes until he kept on not saying anything. Because as many of my friends have pointed out, if the answer was yes it would be "Yes, yes, yes!" and not "............". I'm really exhausted from everything and I don't know where I'm going next, but at least I know it will be just me..........and Graham.
Finally last night Fuckhead ended his side of the relationship. After months of back and forth, me phone stalking him, and him not sending me my things, he finally answered me. I have been trying to get him to answer a simple yes or no question and he answered no at last.
If he answered yes I would be working on a relationship with him right now and since he said no I at least don't feel a need to contact him. That was a gift in itself. As you know, I have too much on my plate and could not handle the unanswered question, because the chance of getting back together was something to hope for and that hope was driving me crazy while unrequited.
I got to end things just as I wanted. I told him that I hope he continues with his success (that he sucked right from my very loins), that he find someone that fits his life better (he said that he compared everyone to me and no one was as special, ahem, ahem bull crap and no duh), and that he should NEVER come find me cause I would turn my life up side down because I love him and because I love him so much I would drop everything for him, I always will, and I can't live my life knowing that he would ever want me again.
Drama, right? I was crying the whole phone call, with him saying that he loved me, no one was like me and that he was going to come see me. But, when he finally said no, I finally pulled my life out of my ass and walked away with a small scrap of dignity while he wept on the other end of the phone.
I thought he was going to say yes until he kept on not saying anything. Because as many of my friends have pointed out, if the answer was yes it would be "Yes, yes, yes!" and not "............". I'm really exhausted from everything and I don't know where I'm going next, but at least I know it will be just me..........and Graham.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Doubting Noah
Hello all,
Sorry for the long lapse in entries. I died and woke up 26. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I have had way too much happen to me in the last month and a half. Look up "deluge of shit" and you'll see my picture next to it. Anyway, all this has made me think of on old saying:
"God only gives you as much as you can handle."
If that is true I have 2 things to say to God:
1. Bitch, you don't know me!
2. That's bull shit.
I had a theological chat with a young man named Hughes last week. I won't say where we chatted, but If I ever write a book I'll put it in there. Hughes is nineteen, has 2 children- one 7 months and one 1 1/2 months by two different women, stopped going to school in 6th grade and is constantly finding himself in illegal situations.
Me: Um, where do you go to school?
Him: Na, na, na, man, I don't go to no school. Dat shit not fo me, her?
Me: .......yeah.
Him: Na, na, na, I don't need no schoo. I already got me a job.
Me: Oh, really? Where do you work?
Him: Uh, I work in a fa'try. Doin' inventory 'n' shit.
Me: Well, that must be nice. Do you get to see your children very often?
Him: Na, na, na dey mom's is real mad at me and shit. Dey found out about eachova and dey go off da deep end fo sho.
Me: I see.
Him: Yeah, yeah, yeah, I wanna see 'em 'n' shit, but I keep gettin' arrested and shit. Ya see?
Me: Mm-hmm.
Him: God gave me dem babies so I could be a fava to dem.
Me: So, God gave you those children by two different women so that you could be a father to them and that makes you a better person?
Him: Yeah, yeah, yeah, ya see?
Me: I do. And he must really want you to see this by giving you 2 children in one year, especially at the tender age of nineteen.
Him: Yeah, you know?
Me: I do. And what do you think God's trying to tell you by arresting you every other week?
Him: Na, na, na, ya see, id ain't God dat make me do this.
Me: That's right! You need to take responsibility for your own actions!
Him: Na, na, na id ain't God dat make me do bad stuff..... uh-uh, it's Satan.
Me: Oh really?
Him: Yeah, yeah, yeah, Satan makes me do all this shit, but it's ok I know God will fo'give me.
Me: Oh really?
Him: Yeah, when I die, he gon fo'give me and he gon fo'give you too.
Me: Oh that's really alright.
Him: Wha?
Me: I don't really believe in God.
Him: Why?
Me: Well there's this little thing called science. If we believed in the bible and Jesus and whatnot, the earth would only be, like, thousands of years old. There are fossils and certain evolutionary processes that have needed millions of years to occur or else you probably wouldn't be here. Where is your god in all of that? Who says that your god is the right one? There are tons of religions all across the world, who told you you picked the right one? If you chose it at random, given your track record, I'm going to guess you probably picked the wrong one. I admire your faith, really I do. I think it's great that you have faith. If I were in your position and didn't have faith, I would kill myself. But I like to have faith in myself, and you should too. That, at least, you have some control over. I've been baptized and confirmed so I have all of the paper work done, so if I die and go to your heaven, while I'm on one side of the pearly gates and you're on the other, when I get to the head of the line and have my chat with Paul or Peter or whoever is manning the gates that day, I'll give you a wave, show them my papers and say, "Oh, don't worry. Hughs,over there, said God would forgive me."
Him: Well...... if it's cuz yo' gay 'n' shit, he fo'give you too.
Me: Awesome. I'm set then.
Sorry for the long lapse in entries. I died and woke up 26. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I have had way too much happen to me in the last month and a half. Look up "deluge of shit" and you'll see my picture next to it. Anyway, all this has made me think of on old saying:
"God only gives you as much as you can handle."
If that is true I have 2 things to say to God:
1. Bitch, you don't know me!
2. That's bull shit.
I had a theological chat with a young man named Hughes last week. I won't say where we chatted, but If I ever write a book I'll put it in there. Hughes is nineteen, has 2 children- one 7 months and one 1 1/2 months by two different women, stopped going to school in 6th grade and is constantly finding himself in illegal situations.
Me: Um, where do you go to school?
Him: Na, na, na, man, I don't go to no school. Dat shit not fo me, her?
Me: .......yeah.
Him: Na, na, na, I don't need no schoo. I already got me a job.
Me: Oh, really? Where do you work?
Him: Uh, I work in a fa'try. Doin' inventory 'n' shit.
Me: Well, that must be nice. Do you get to see your children very often?
Him: Na, na, na dey mom's is real mad at me and shit. Dey found out about eachova and dey go off da deep end fo sho.
Me: I see.
Him: Yeah, yeah, yeah, I wanna see 'em 'n' shit, but I keep gettin' arrested and shit. Ya see?
Me: Mm-hmm.
Him: God gave me dem babies so I could be a fava to dem.
Me: So, God gave you those children by two different women so that you could be a father to them and that makes you a better person?
Him: Yeah, yeah, yeah, ya see?
Me: I do. And he must really want you to see this by giving you 2 children in one year, especially at the tender age of nineteen.
Him: Yeah, you know?
Me: I do. And what do you think God's trying to tell you by arresting you every other week?
Him: Na, na, na, ya see, id ain't God dat make me do this.
Me: That's right! You need to take responsibility for your own actions!
Him: Na, na, na id ain't God dat make me do bad stuff..... uh-uh, it's Satan.
Me: Oh really?
Him: Yeah, yeah, yeah, Satan makes me do all this shit, but it's ok I know God will fo'give me.
Me: Oh really?
Him: Yeah, when I die, he gon fo'give me and he gon fo'give you too.
Me: Oh that's really alright.
Him: Wha?
Me: I don't really believe in God.
Him: Why?
Me: Well there's this little thing called science. If we believed in the bible and Jesus and whatnot, the earth would only be, like, thousands of years old. There are fossils and certain evolutionary processes that have needed millions of years to occur or else you probably wouldn't be here. Where is your god in all of that? Who says that your god is the right one? There are tons of religions all across the world, who told you you picked the right one? If you chose it at random, given your track record, I'm going to guess you probably picked the wrong one. I admire your faith, really I do. I think it's great that you have faith. If I were in your position and didn't have faith, I would kill myself. But I like to have faith in myself, and you should too. That, at least, you have some control over. I've been baptized and confirmed so I have all of the paper work done, so if I die and go to your heaven, while I'm on one side of the pearly gates and you're on the other, when I get to the head of the line and have my chat with Paul or Peter or whoever is manning the gates that day, I'll give you a wave, show them my papers and say, "Oh, don't worry. Hughs,over there, said God would forgive me."
Him: Well...... if it's cuz yo' gay 'n' shit, he fo'give you too.
Me: Awesome. I'm set then.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Death and Brownies
Hello all,
It is 7:38 on Sunday night. I have just settled down to finish off a bowl of Walking-Choco-Mallow-Crispies (a little concoction that I’ve been eating since 8th grade where I mix Rice Crispies, Hershey’s Kisses, and marshmallows in a bowl, melt it in the microwave for 35 seconds, and eat it right out of the bowl before anyone sees me, no judgment) while watching the Best of Tracy Morgan SNL Special. This act juxtaposed against the last few days has made me reflect on my life.
Today Mom asked me to make my special brownies. Now to some of you this may include some kind of mind-bending drug, but I assure you it’s nothing of the sort. Right when I moved home this summer (sigh) my grandparents came over for a cookout and I made brownies from a box and sprinkled butterscotch and chocolate chips over the top and I undercooked them-giving them a fudge quality. My family thought this was a delicacy beyond imagination and “Noah’s Special Brownies” were born. This specific request for brownies was for a funeral my parents are attending tomorrow.
Mom thought that with only 5 salads and 5 desserts for a high profile funeral she should bring something else because that was CLEARLY not enough. Noah’s Special Brownies to the rescue! I imagine everyone coming back from the funeral to morn and graze on a mediocre spread, but instead of bland cookies they are greeted by my special brownies. “Hey, wow this is the best day ever, look at those brownies, yummy!” I can hear them say. No.
No. My brownies are meant to make the masses happy, but I imagine that a funeral is a funeral and no one will be saying this. No one will give a rat’s patootie what food is at a funeral, it’s a funeral. In lieu of a funeral for myself, I will be having a musical themed BBQ. It will be gay gay gay and fun fun fun. It will be happy and sunny, and when normally I would be worried about getting a sunburn, who cares, I’ll be dead.
The other day I got one of the best hair cuts I have gotten in years but I was surprised by what fell into my lap. White hair. I have white hair. I HAVE WHITE HAIR. I mean I’m all for natural highlights, and better white hair than no hair, but really? When I saw white hair in the mix of amber locks on my lap I contained my freak out and asked the stylist for her professional opinion. She said that yes it was in fact white hair and flipped her gum. I guess it’s not a problem….or is it?
I’ll be 26 next month, I work 3 days a week as a cashier, I live at home with my parents, I codependently sleep with my dog, I accost my ex-boyfriend with voicemails in hope to get back my possessions and self respect and now I have white hair. This all came to me as I finished my Walking-Choco-Mallow-Crispies and I started to laugh. After a few seconds it became much less funny.
Bitch of a life- 1
Noah- 0
It is 7:38 on Sunday night. I have just settled down to finish off a bowl of Walking-Choco-Mallow-Crispies (a little concoction that I’ve been eating since 8th grade where I mix Rice Crispies, Hershey’s Kisses, and marshmallows in a bowl, melt it in the microwave for 35 seconds, and eat it right out of the bowl before anyone sees me, no judgment) while watching the Best of Tracy Morgan SNL Special. This act juxtaposed against the last few days has made me reflect on my life.
Today Mom asked me to make my special brownies. Now to some of you this may include some kind of mind-bending drug, but I assure you it’s nothing of the sort. Right when I moved home this summer (sigh) my grandparents came over for a cookout and I made brownies from a box and sprinkled butterscotch and chocolate chips over the top and I undercooked them-giving them a fudge quality. My family thought this was a delicacy beyond imagination and “Noah’s Special Brownies” were born. This specific request for brownies was for a funeral my parents are attending tomorrow.
Mom thought that with only 5 salads and 5 desserts for a high profile funeral she should bring something else because that was CLEARLY not enough. Noah’s Special Brownies to the rescue! I imagine everyone coming back from the funeral to morn and graze on a mediocre spread, but instead of bland cookies they are greeted by my special brownies. “Hey, wow this is the best day ever, look at those brownies, yummy!” I can hear them say. No.
No. My brownies are meant to make the masses happy, but I imagine that a funeral is a funeral and no one will be saying this. No one will give a rat’s patootie what food is at a funeral, it’s a funeral. In lieu of a funeral for myself, I will be having a musical themed BBQ. It will be gay gay gay and fun fun fun. It will be happy and sunny, and when normally I would be worried about getting a sunburn, who cares, I’ll be dead.
The other day I got one of the best hair cuts I have gotten in years but I was surprised by what fell into my lap. White hair. I have white hair. I HAVE WHITE HAIR. I mean I’m all for natural highlights, and better white hair than no hair, but really? When I saw white hair in the mix of amber locks on my lap I contained my freak out and asked the stylist for her professional opinion. She said that yes it was in fact white hair and flipped her gum. I guess it’s not a problem….or is it?
I’ll be 26 next month, I work 3 days a week as a cashier, I live at home with my parents, I codependently sleep with my dog, I accost my ex-boyfriend with voicemails in hope to get back my possessions and self respect and now I have white hair. This all came to me as I finished my Walking-Choco-Mallow-Crispies and I started to laugh. After a few seconds it became much less funny.
Bitch of a life- 1
Noah- 0
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Note worthy
Hello all,
On a very sad note:
A friend of the family has passed away. I went to school with his son and his wife is one of my mom's best friends; it happened over night and it was very unexpected. My thoughts go out to his entire family.
On a hilarious note:
During the day Dad and I received phone calls about our friend's passing. With each call we learned a little more of what actually happened, but it wasn't until my uncle called when we got the final word. My dad had just stepped into the shower, but I thought he would want to know the news as soon as possible so I yelled through the door who had called and what he said. Unexpectedly to me, Dad opened the door and had me recite what I had said again in greater detail while he stood there naked.
Now, let me state there is nothing funny about the passing of this person in any way, shape, or form, but this time will always be remembered to me with the shape and form of my dad's freshly showered pink body emblazoned in the forefront of my mind.
There is just no preparing for that. When did it become OK to talk to your family members naked? NEVER! I don't even walk around in tank tops, that's how uncomfortable I feel with family on family nudity. I don't care if you do own the house, or you want to get a better listen to what I am saying, put on some G.D. clothes. Yeesh!, Yikes!, and Yeow! Get outta my head!
On a personal note:
I think I may be growing crazy eyebrows. Not on purpose, of course! But everyday I look at my eyebrows and they are getting longer and far too wild.
When I was at Butler, the teacher who played Drossylmeyer every year in The Nutcracker gave me his make up case when I had to play the dog in Cinderella. He was retiring and had no use for it. It was very thoughtful and in the bottom of the case he had also bestowed upon me his stage eye brows; two strips of bushy, inch long, white hair that he would affix to his forehead to look old and crazy (like he needed much help).
Now every time I see my blondish-ed eyebrows in the mirror I think that I will end up some old community fop who is cast in every show because he is needlessly dramatic and already had his own pair of crazy stage eye brows.........but they're real!!!!
I know everybody has already seen this, but I was just so moved and it meant so much to me to see someone say this so honestly and clearly. And I want him to be my husband, but that's a whole 'nother post. Everyone should go and see Milk, if you know a gay, are a gay, interested in learning more about the gays and how we're not going to take over the world in an evil empire and redecorate you living room, go see Milk. It's amazing. And here is Sean Penn, who did an amazing job in Milk as well.
Go see it in the theaters if you can, but it also comes out on DVD on March 10th
On a very sad note:
A friend of the family has passed away. I went to school with his son and his wife is one of my mom's best friends; it happened over night and it was very unexpected. My thoughts go out to his entire family.
On a hilarious note:
During the day Dad and I received phone calls about our friend's passing. With each call we learned a little more of what actually happened, but it wasn't until my uncle called when we got the final word. My dad had just stepped into the shower, but I thought he would want to know the news as soon as possible so I yelled through the door who had called and what he said. Unexpectedly to me, Dad opened the door and had me recite what I had said again in greater detail while he stood there naked.
Now, let me state there is nothing funny about the passing of this person in any way, shape, or form, but this time will always be remembered to me with the shape and form of my dad's freshly showered pink body emblazoned in the forefront of my mind.
There is just no preparing for that. When did it become OK to talk to your family members naked? NEVER! I don't even walk around in tank tops, that's how uncomfortable I feel with family on family nudity. I don't care if you do own the house, or you want to get a better listen to what I am saying, put on some G.D. clothes. Yeesh!, Yikes!, and Yeow! Get outta my head!
On a personal note:
I think I may be growing crazy eyebrows. Not on purpose, of course! But everyday I look at my eyebrows and they are getting longer and far too wild.
When I was at Butler, the teacher who played Drossylmeyer every year in The Nutcracker gave me his make up case when I had to play the dog in Cinderella. He was retiring and had no use for it. It was very thoughtful and in the bottom of the case he had also bestowed upon me his stage eye brows; two strips of bushy, inch long, white hair that he would affix to his forehead to look old and crazy (like he needed much help).
Now every time I see my blondish-ed eyebrows in the mirror I think that I will end up some old community fop who is cast in every show because he is needlessly dramatic and already had his own pair of crazy stage eye brows.........but they're real!!!!
I know everybody has already seen this, but I was just so moved and it meant so much to me to see someone say this so honestly and clearly. And I want him to be my husband, but that's a whole 'nother post. Everyone should go and see Milk, if you know a gay, are a gay, interested in learning more about the gays and how we're not going to take over the world in an evil empire and redecorate you living room, go see Milk. It's amazing. And here is Sean Penn, who did an amazing job in Milk as well.
Go see it in the theaters if you can, but it also comes out on DVD on March 10th
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Happy Birthday Graham!
Hello all,
Today is Graham's birthday he is 3...... or 21 depending on how you look at it. He is my special little guy and I love him very much. I don't know what I'd do with out him. Happy Birthday!
That's it........nothing funny. Yes I wrote a blog about my dog's birthday. Does that make me crazy/eccentric? Maybe. Do I care? No. I love my dog and it's his birthday. If you have a problem with that............. you must not have a dog.
Today is Graham's birthday he is 3...... or 21 depending on how you look at it. He is my special little guy and I love him very much. I don't know what I'd do with out him. Happy Birthday!
That's it........nothing funny. Yes I wrote a blog about my dog's birthday. Does that make me crazy/eccentric? Maybe. Do I care? No. I love my dog and it's his birthday. If you have a problem with that............. you must not have a dog.
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