Tag Archives: Friends

Self-Censoring is Unhealthy

I just re-read my last entry and it pissed me off.  THIS is where I’m supposed to be able to be honest and throw a tempter tantrum, if so inclined.  And that entry soooooo does not accurately portray my state of mind at the time.  That was me trying to be calm and civil and explain away a situation that, frankly, has left me feeling resentful and belittled. 

I’m all for taking my “punishment,” but I can’t help but feel I got blamed for, not only my mistake, but a buttload of other things that didn’t have a damn thing to do with me.  People say things in anger, things that are sometimes unreasonable.  I know and accept that.  But, as an adult, if you KNOW you are one of those people that do that, then STFU and walk away from the conversation. 

Don’t say a bunch of irrational and nasty shit to me and then BLAME ME for you saying them because I “kept talking and talking and talking” (which, after re-reading the online part of this thing, where the majority of it took place, is soooo not accurate).  Because if you say stuff that either makes no sense or has nothing to do with me, bet your ass I’m going to respond.  In this case, I didn’t even respond to any of the most outrageous comments…I was too shocked and amazed by them to do so.  I didn’t realize we were still in 5th grade.

Is it worth losing a friend over?  Hell no.  Would that happen if I were to try to address the way things went down?  I don’t know.  I’m guessing it would get ugly.  And life is too short for that shit.  

Shutting up and moving on…and for the record, this does NOT qualify as doormat behavior. 

* This entry remained in draft and was not published until 11/06/05.

I should’ve just stayed in bed.

Or on the couch, seeing as that is my bed these days.  That’s another issue I need to work on.

Today sucked.  I’m cramping, emotional, bleeding like a (something that bleeds a lot), and I pissed off and hurt the feelings of a very good friend.  Completely accidentally and totally unintentionally.  But I feel like crap about it.  And I was made to feel more crappy about it.  I beat myself up more than anyone I know.  So when I mess up, I know it.  Trust me, I do. 

I screwed up.  And I’m terribly sorry.  My brain doesn’t work so well lately.  Too many balls in the air I guess.  One of them was bound to fall.   In the grande scheme of things, it was a pretty minor thing compounded by another thing that, while innocent enough, was made worse because of my goof on the first thing.  I understand the timing of it was bad.  She’s stressed as it is and I added to that.

Unfortunately, I’m typically one of those people that wants to address the issue right away and hash it out.  And by hash, I mean talk through it rationally and be done with it.  And she needs space and to be left alone.  So apparently I made it worse because I didn’t shut up when told.  I’m just not good with a situation where I feel I am being chastised and am not supposed to respond (that’s a different and unrelated story, one not worth getting into here).  Hence her not wanting to talk to me AT ALL at that moment.  Ok.  I get it. 

So, while she was presumably calming down, I spent the afternoon festering.  Now she’s ok (I think??) and I have smoked 2+ packs of cigarettes and have puffy eyes, an upset stomach, and an attitude.  I blame Aunt Flo. 

Today’s lesson:

Plan A:  Next time I’ll know to say, “Ok, talk to me when you’re ready.”  And leave it alone.  That’s just reeeeally hard for me to do. 

Plan B:  Don’t screw up and don’t make anyone mad again ever.  That’s do-able, right? 

Nah…that’s the doormat in me, that my exbf left behind, desperately trying to resurface.  Ignore her.  Stick to Plan A. 

The Mermaid, The Punk, and The Drunk-Driver

I thought I pulled off the costume pretty well.  I got a hot pink leopard print bra to wear underneath, with the straps showing, of course.  Hot pink fishnets.  Ripped fishnet gloves.  A really tacky pink purse.  Some fake tattoos on my shoulder blade and chest.  A pearl necklace (too obvious to pass up), some fun rings, the silver nails.  The fake eyelashes.  Bad makeup. 

And here’s the very best part….I found some kickass hooker shoes at Payless.  They have the clear lucite bottoms and heel.  With a clear and silver band across the top of the foot.  And the heels light up when you walk!!!!!   They are hysterical!  

I rode to the party with V, who did the punk rock thing.  We got there around 9pm, so we completely missed the game (my fault, I was late and dealing with fake nails popping off left and right).  The normal happy hour bunch “got” my outfit.  But some random guys had the nerve to ask me if I was a mermaid!  WTF?! 

After numerous glasses of too much Turkey and not enough 7, I was feeling pretty good.  And at some point, the clear plastic straps that were helping hold my dress up broke.  The dress was already sliding a little too low up top before that, and I’d been pulling it up all night.  By the time the straps broke, I was oblivious apparently.  There are far too many pictures with far too much of my pushup bra showing.

There were some good costumes.  Marilyn, Elvis, Spongebob, Rasta Guerin, a Royal Flush, a Wet Tshirt Contest Winner, a Vagina, some scary creatures.  And more people asking if I was a mermaid.  Grrr!  The best costume of the night, IMO, was a (gay) man dressed as a priest…with a young boy, um, attached…to his groin area.  I was in tears from laughing so hard.  Does that make me a bad person?  😛


V & I left around 3am I think.  We didn’t get 10 minutes down the road when some crazy person in a truck jumped a curb and was headed straight for us.  Luckily there was a split in the road to the right, so V jerked that way really quick.  But not fast enough.  The asshole nailed the driver’s side rear of her car, denting up her fender and completely ripping the bumper off. 

We stopped in the middle of the road, got out, and the truck was no where to be seen.  V went running down the street to retrieve her bumper and threw it in her back seat.  We turned around and pulled into a parking lot.  Noticed some girl walking across the street and figured she was walking over from the apartments to get some food.  Then V spotted the truck…through the fence of that apartment complex.  And we realized that girl walking across the street, who had since disappeared, was none other than the hit-and-run-and-plow-through-a-fence driver.

V called the police and they asked if we were part of the wreck at some intersection (barely a block away).  No, we’re really close to there, but that’s not us.  They tell V there is a cop at the gas station on the corner dealing with the other wreck and for us to go over there.  So we do.  V had changed into jeans before the party ended.  I was still in my dirty whore martini getup complete with light up heels.  Quite a sight, I’m sure.

Come to find out, this driver had ran a red light, hit someone, took off through a gas station parking lot, hit someone else’s car in the parking lot, took off again through the Wendy’s parking lot, out onto the street, over the curb, bounced off of V’s car and then drove through a fence.  Un-freaking-real.  Luckily they had caught the girl and she was already in the back of the police car.  And there was insurance on the vehicle (which apparently belonged to the crazy driver’s girlfriend).

After the police got V’s statement, they asked her what her “friend was supposed to be.”  Atleast they didn’t think I was a mermaid. 

A few more pics here.

Finishing touches…

I’ve decided to skip going to the game tonight (gasp!) in order to have plenty of time to get into my costume for the Halloween Party tonight.  It just made more sense.

I think I’ve mentioned here before that I really enjoy a dirty martini.  Reeeally dirty.  “Dirty (Filthy) Whore Martini” is usually my exact drink-ordering phrase, in fact.  It’s a running joke among some of my friends.  So when I saw this dress, I knew what I would be for Halloween. 

So, I got the dress back from the lady at work and it fits much better.  Still a little more fitted than I would like, but that’s the material it’s made out of…nothing to be done about that now other than go find some control top hose or a girdle or something.  I wanted to be able to pull it up to make it a little shorter, too, but because of the way she tapered the insert at the bottom, it just won’t work.  That’s ok. 

The only downside to that is, one of my ideas for making my costume more dirty whore-ish is wasted now.  I was going to wear some fishnet hose with the knees worn out and dirty from…well, you figure it out.  But without a shorter dress, it just won’t work.  So what else can I do to emphasize the dirty whore part?

I’ve got a couple of trashy wigs to chose from.  Probably a little more rockstar than whore, but I’m sure one of them will work.  And I’ve got some fake eyelashes with little crystals at the base.  And some fishnet handless elbow-length gloves.  And I found some coolass hooker nails that are silver with little crystals on the tips.  I also have a cool black feather boa with silver in it.

I can’t find the shoes I was planning to wear, so may go look for some cheap ones today.  Either that or I’ll just have to wear my platform mary jane heels.

Problem is, according to Red, I’ll match too well.  And look more highclass callgirl than dirty whore.  So what else can I do to trash it up good?

Heavy makeup, yeah.  Thought maybe I could smear my lipstick.  But what else?! 

Renee Oct 24, 05:  Loving that costume! I def wanna see you in it!:)

Nilla Oct 23, 05:  Yeah, my first thought was “put it on your head” for the making it trashier part. Like what you’ve got so far. How about a hat? Dunno, you could get a red pillbox and stick the letters “DTH” on it or something else lame I could probably come up with. Or write it on your chest.

Saundra Oct 22, 05:  blue eyeshadow… red lipstick… OR you could just make your arms and shoulders look dirty– go for more literal DIRTY Martini instead of DIRTY WHORE…

I saw the costume when I was looking @ some– good choice! :)  Have fun!

One size does NOT fit all.

I think it should be against the law to even place that phrase on any article of clothing.  I figured out my Halloween costume over the weekend.  Went and bought the dress part, and, of course, although it claims to fit most adult sizes, it is entirely too small for me.  Granted, it fits…meaning I was actually able to squirm my way into it.  But it’s made partially of this cheap, thin, stretchy, black matte knit stuff.  You know, the stuff that shows EVERY fat roll on your back and stomach and every dimple in your ass.  It’s so NOT flattering.

I called my mom over the weekend and she convinced me it would be super easy to sew some inserts into it to make it fit less…um…snug.  Well I can’t sew.  That project in home economics my sophmore year proved that.  And none of my friends sew.  So I’m in a panic, thinking I either find a seamstress who can fix it, find a super-duper-suck-it-all-in-girdle that will cover me from below the bust to the top of my thighs, or….I start from scratch and come up with another costume.

After tons of phone calls and being chastised for waiting until the last minute, I ended up asking a coworker, who I happen to know is a big quilting person, if she could possibly pretty-please-with-sugar-on-top do it for me.  I need it by Saturday, so time is running out.  She said she can.   I need to go find some similar fabric tomorrow, probably on my lunch break, and then she can take it all home and get started.  So yay for that!

Now if I can just figure out how this is all going to work.  I’m supposed to be going to the hockey game on Saturday.  And then ride with other game-goers to the party….like 30-40 minutes away.  They are planning to stay the night, so I’d either have to do the same (which I don’t want to do) or find another ride back to wherever I leave my car.  And when do I change?  At the party?  Well that’s just silly.  We probably won’t get there until 11pm at the very earliest.  Then it’s going to take me another hour to get all the crap on.  So maybe, by midnight, I’m costumed and ready to socialize.  By 2am or so, people will be leaving (well, those that aren’t going to crash there).  I’m not crazy about the idea of the amount of effort to get dressed vs the amount of time spent at the party.

So I’m thinking…maybe I skip going to the game.  I could get ready at home, without having to pack up all the shit I would need, then ride with friends to the party in time to watch the game on tv from there.  That makes more sense, doesn’t it?  But then I’ll miss seeing my boys play live and in person.  I’m torn. 

SPF: Back to School

   Stuff Portrait Friday

This week’s assignment (brought to you by Random and Odd):


  • Your Yearbook (any year)

  • The person who made life hell for you.

  • The person you still talk to.

 One of you blogger types tell her I played, ok?  For some reason it’s not allowing me to comment over there.  Mean blogger.  😛

So, it would appear that I do not have a single yearbook from high school.  I know I got screwed out of my senior yearbook (thanks, Mrs I’ll-Get-You-One-For-Planning-Junior-Prom) but apparently I don’t have any other ones either.  Either my brother , Duckie, has them all, or they are still stacked on a bookshelf somewhere at my parents’ house.  So, no yearbook pic for me.  EDIT:  Well crap.  I found 2 of them after I posted this.  If I get good and motivated, I’ll add a pic here later.

Person who made life hell for me:  Would have to by my junior high / highschool sweetheart, and I use the term loosely, because, while we did date off and on (mostly on) from 7th grade until after graduation, he was no angel.  It’s funny how a lot of my best and my worst memories of school involve him. 

Here we are in 8th grade.  Anyone remember those Rude Dog shirts?  LOL

Junior High

And at my Senior Prom.  Check out his mullet and my big hair!  We broke up, for the last time, about 3 months later but kept “in touch” (insert evil grin) for almost another 6 months.  He was my first love.  Years later, I would become friends with his (now ex) wife and mother of his twin boys!  Hearing her stories confirmed that I did the right thing.  He hadn’t changed a bit.  Still playing the same old games.  I hear he is remarried now.  Here’s hoping he’s finally settled down and happy. 

Senior Prom

Person I still talk to:  There’s quite a few actually, so I’ll just pick 3.  Two girls I went to school with (MommyK and MrsDrillTeam) ended up living in the same area as me, so we try to get together when we can.  Of course, they are both married and one of them just had her first child, so those get togethers are further and further apart these days. 

MommyK     MrsDrillTeam

And more recently, at our 10-year reunion with their hubbies:

And another, that I don’t talk to as often as I’d like, but always make it a point to go see her when I head south.  One of my very best friends from school, let’s call her Barbie, because she’s pretty and skinny and blonde. 


 It’s amazing we ever became friends in the first place.  I met her in 7th grade and we couldn’t have been more opposite of each other.  I was the bad girl, she was the wide-eyed innocent new kid.  My how times have changed!  Here’s us one night at our 10-year reunion:

I miss you, Barbie.  Come visit soon, please!

Sex and Appletinis

GNO was fun.  Some of us snuck away to the pool for awhile.  Maybe that was rude, but really, we were just being considerate of those who were actually watching Sex and the City.  We were talking about the real deal.  And Canadian Girl got a lesson in some terminology she was not familiar with.  Funny.

I’m ashamed…I drunk-dialed.   It was innocent enough at the time.  One of the “girls” was talking about people from T’s country.  Had a question.  I didn’t think twice about calling him to ask.  He didn’t answer.  I didn’t leave a message.  Forgot all about it until this morning.  Ooof.

I’m hosting an open house of sorts this coming weekend, complete with coworkers, out-of-town guests, and my parents.  Which means I should seriously consider cleaning up around here.  When did I become such a slob?

Nope, not writing about it.

So I’m taking part of the day off tomorrow to go watch hot hockey men practice.  If that doesn’t get me out of my funk, nothing will.  Although I’m tempted to drink until I pass out tonight, I’d rather wake up in time to make the short drive north-ish for the day’s adventure. 

I’m so excited for the NHL season to start.  That should definitely get me back into the groove of things and out of my on-again-off-again hermit-like tendencies. 

And, as of Sunday, I’ve started back on my Weight Watchers journaling.  I lost 40 pounds and was within 15 pounds of my goal weight over a year ago and was really feeling good about myself.  Since buying the house and reverting to a diet of fast food, I’ve managed to put the majority of it back on.  That sucks.  And pisses me off.  But rather than keep grumbling about none of my clothes fitting anymore, I’ve decided to suck it up and see if I can’t get myself back on track.   I was really good at keeping myself in check at one time, so going to see if I can’t do that again.  If all else fails, I’ll go back to the meetings.  But I’d prefer to save that $40+ a month if possible. 

Tempted to, but no….not talking about it. 

What a day!

I went over to the hotel around noon to volunteer.   It’s amazing what word of mouth and the internet can do.  What they didn’t expect was the TONS of people who would hear about it and the TONS of items that would be donated.  It was absolutely incredible.

The hotel was overflowing, the parking lot, the side of the road in front of the hotel, the front of the office building next store, the entire 6th floor of that building….if there was ever any doubt about the kindness and generosity of people, this should restore your faith in mankind.

There were so many amazing stories and so much gratitude from those in need of the most basic of things. I really would have loved to have taken pictures, but just couldn’t make myself do it. These people have been through so much. And have so much more to go through. It just didn’t seem right to be flashing my camera in their faces. Yet another reason why I could never be a photojournalist.

By 9pm, I didn’t have an ounce of energy left, and even though there was still more to be done, I had to call it a night and go home.  It was a great experience though, and I’m glad I went. 

Afternoon plans

A hotel in the area is having a free garage sale today and Tuesday for guests at their hotel and any others displaced by Katrina (they are estimating we will have atleast 20,000 evacuees in our area by the weekend).  They’ve apparently received an overwhelming amount of donations so far (so much so that they are taking over a floor of the office building next door) and are in need of volunteers to sort everything.  They had people helping all through the night.  I’m taking off this afternoon so am going to head over there to pitch in and do whatever I can to be of use. 

I would really like to bring my camera(s), because I think this is the kind of thing to be captured.  But I don’t want to offend anyone either.  I’ll leave them in my car until I see how things go.

I’ve just recently learned about “Stuff Portrait Friday.”  It sounds like fun, so I’m going to start playing.  It will be a little later today before I have a chance to do the assigned photos, but I’ll get them up as soon as I can.