Red Lips and No Friends - what's a girl to do

I'm sick of my friends flaking out on me. Ok... let me re-phrase that.... I'm sick of my FRIEND flaking on me. She makes plans and then comes back with some strange tale of what happened and why she couldn't get to her phone.

This is the same one I was worried about a few weeks ago because of her awful choices. I don't know maybe it's time to cut her lose.

Which brings me to the mysterious title of this post, because here I sit with wine stained red lips and no friends to speak of.

I've never been the type to have a bevvy of friends. I usually have one at a time. Like rationing. One good friend at a time that you tell everything to and trust with all of your secrets. My current one is turning out to be a dud. But if you get rid of them, and say... aaaah fuck it I'm sick of trying. Where does a 25 year old make a new best friend? work? gym? neighbor?

So I'm scared to let go of her, and it sounds awful selfish since the main reason is because I won't have that one best friend to fall back on when times are rough. Mr. M has tons of friends. TONS.
Sometimes I wonder if his male friends aren't just his friends but secretly have little crushes on him. He has about 15 friends I could name off of the top of my head who seriously vie for his attention. Like school girls trying to impress the popular boy in school. Then they play these weird games with me... you know... the "who knows Mr. M better" games. I think they are ridiculous.

So here I sit with Mr. M in vegas with his boyfriends all hoping to get their 15 minutes of Mr. M's attention and my best friend flaking on me.

feh.

I think I'll have another glass.

Keep Your Fingers Away From The Cage - she's been known to bite

I am one pissy missy today.

I had to wake up at 5:45 - and I am the farthest thing from a morning person that ever lived. If I don't get my 9-10 hours sleep every night, I'm likely to bite your head off... or at least your pinky.
So I went to bed at 10:00 anticipating my crabbiness in the morning and trying to will time to stop. It wouldn't be so bad if I was waking up to take a sun filled vacation. Where there was some reward for my punishment.

Unfortunately the reward for this morning's punishment was to watch Mr.M go off onto HIS sun filled vacation. I just wanted to scream at him F*CK Y**!!!! m&th#r F*ck!r C*ckS$ck&r. AAAAH!

I kept my cool though and just was grumpy - which to him is a normal occurence in the morning.

I'm pretty resentful though, which is what I was hoping wouldn't happen. He requested this solo trip about a month ago. He's going down to see the Wynn casino's grand opening on Wednesday night at midnight. I blogged about the original argument and then let it pass. I didn't realize that I would want to rip his head off when the actual day arrived. I'm feeling extremely left out. Like a stupid child.

Aren't we supposed to get over that "left out" "nobody wants to play with me" crap when we are about 10? Well, I never did. I'm pissed. He pleaded with me this morning, "can't you just be happy for me and my time off?"

No, I can't - because I'm a 5 year old trapped in a 25 year old's body and it sucks the biggest most giant fatty in the entire world.

When it comes down to it, really - I just want to be with my Mr. M. :(

Baking Disaster #237

I attempted a recipe today knowing it was a tough one. Knowing full well that my oven is circa 1950 and doesn't bake evenly or hot enough.

So I guess I got what I deserved. FAILURE!

The recipe was called "yodels". It is simply home made swiss cake rolls (or hoho's if you will). So you're supposed to make the thin spong cake in jelly roll pans, then make the creamy whipped filling then roll, freeze, and dip in bittersweet chocolate - freeze again.

Simple right?! ummmm not so much.

My sponge cake ended up being crispy on the outside edges and mushy in the middle causing it to actually STICK to my wax paper. I thought nothing was supposed to stick to wax paper. Rolling that kind of sponge cake ended up being the disaster. No I have something that looks more like a flat omelet lookin thing.

Unfortunately I have all these lovely ingredients now made with no place to put them. Caramel whipped cream with sour cream mixed in. now WHAT am I going to do with that? I think I have a good idea... where's my spoon.

Real Men Wear Pink - but I don't think they cheat

The past two days I've watched two movies that I never got around to seeing in the theater. Usually we are avid movie goers especially independent films. I can't remember the last time I saw a blockbuster in the theater.

The two movies I saw were Ray and Ali. Many common themes are shared amongst these movies. Race, adversity, relationships, celebrity, and talent - to name a few. The one that I noticed the most, however, was infidelity.

In both movies the featured characters were worshipped for their talents and charisma and yet cheated HEAVILY on their wives.

Which brings us to the topic of the day - why American society idolizes a man for his craft or talent and not the honesty and integrity of his character?

There are men in every aspect of fame who have been exposed publicly for infidelity. Bill Clinton, Muhammad Ali, Ray Charles, Sinatra, etc etc etc.

Are they really "great men" if they couldn't stay faithful in their marriages? Are they really capable of being honest or having integrity in other aspects of life if they couldn't in the most important bond two humans enter?

My opinion on this is by no means cut and dry. I do believe that despite many republicans efforts to defame him, that Bill Clinton did have two pretty amazing terms as president. I also believe that he helped our foreign policy probably more so than any othe president before him. However if I, as an American believe that our president is supposed to live a life that is representative of our nation's honesty and integrety.... hmmm maybe not so much.

Performers such as Ray Charles and Sinatra are just the two that have jumped to the top of my brain at the current moment but their are several others out there I'm sure I'm forgetting. First let me say that our society puts performers on an insanely high pedestal and creates this hysteria of fame or celebrity that is absolutly un-necessary. Yes, I love the music of both of these men. However, I don't believe that we should be mimicking their behavior in any way just because they can carry a pretty mean tune. That being said, are they still great performers despite their cheating? yes. Are they great men? hmmmmm maybe not so much.

Muhammad Ali is a figure in history that I actually didn't know much about until watching the film. I didn't realize he was so political or that he had the fame that he had. I admire him for his political and religious stances. I admire that he stood against the crowd and said no sir that's not right - about the vietnam war. However, he cheated on his wife in a very public way, and then divorced twice and married 3 times. Does this make him a bad man? the verdict is out.

Maybe we've got it all wrong and humans aren't capable of being monogomous. If that is the case, why do we do it? Christianity? It does seem that men have a tendency to want quantity instead of one steadfast love for the rest of their lives. I realize I'm making generalizations here, but that's what we do when we think about sociological trends and themes.

I have no answer or magical conclusion for this post. I just wanted to write out the conflicting messages that I am receiving in media and life to see if they fall into something comprehensible.

Wise Grandfather

Last night before falling into a lovely deep sleep my brain brought me a memory of my grandfather. I made a self note to blog about it today.

First let me say that this isn't one of those, "my grandpa was my best friend and then he died and I think about him every day" memories. My grandfather is very much alive and well living in Iowa. We weren't best friend's but I was definitely his favorite due to my extreme precociousness as a child - and adult for that matter.

Last Christmas we were at Grandma and Grandpa's house whom I refer to as G&G. Mr. M had come along on this trip and it was our first Christmas together with my family. Somehow my gramps got on the topic of me as a child. Why is it that grandparents feel it is there duty to tell all your friends and significant others about your childhood?

Grandpa was remember funny things I did and telling all the standard stories that I've heard before. Until Mr. M said, was she always this stubborn?

Grandpa said, "she's tough and smart on the outside but really she gets her feelings hurt very easily and deeply."

I was shocked! How did my stoic German grandfather know this about me?!

So naturally I asked him, "How did you know that."

He laughed and sad, "well it's true isn't it?"

Yes, it is true. I just never realized grandpa paid that much attention to all us grandkids and our mish mash of idiosyncrasies. I felt understood and yet exposed all at once.

It's Times Like These

The gentle touch of his hand on my neck at a table full of people. Lovingly moving the curls that have somehow gotten in the collar of my shirt. Holding his fingers close to my skin for just a second longer than I expected.

Leaning over in the middle of the meal, whispering - how bout some kisses. His lips so masculine and yet soft touching mine oh so briefly, as if to say - we're the only one's here.

Bathing me in beautiful music causing me to turn off the TV. Listening in the dark to the sweet little woman's voice together, but it separate rooms.

We've been together for nearly two years now and I still get full body tingles just seeing him.

His hands on my hips guiding me down the aisle of the church after fierce organ contata's.

It's times like these, that if I didn't know any better - I just might think he was the one.

4:47.... 48..... 49

Could this day GO any slower!

The only thing I could think to do to see me through the rest of the day was write a post. So I guess I'll just write what's in my stream of consciousness currently:

I go through these phases where I don't trust that Mr. M loves me. It's really pathetic and awful and insecure. So the more I yearn for him to show me or remind me of his undying love for me the more he gets annoyed and pulls away. Talk about a lot hang-ups, this guy has a boat load.

I've been unhappy with the house-cleaning arrangements for a long time, yesterday I voiced my concern. Which is this: why do I do all of it? and he does none of it? Yes, I know this is a usual complaint from women, but truly, he does NO house-work. Nothing.. unless you ask him. I don't want to have to ask him. I'm not his mother, he's a grown man, and that's just asking for resentment. He says to me, "if you don't want to clean, don't clean... but what happens when you eventually take away all the ways that you show me you love me?"

Excuse me, but WTF! The only way you know that I love you is when I wash your underwear?! Give me a fuckin break dude. That's the most awful circa 1950's thinking I've ever heard. I told him, that ain't me, never has been, never will be. I ain't yo' bitch. To which he scoffed.

I asked him what his ideal situation would be, he said, "my ideal situation is never have to even think about laundry, or cleaning... it's just done." I told him he better be extremely wealthy or have a stay at home wife. OR, have his mother move in with us. Wouldn't we ALL love that life? But it's not real. We have to clean, we have to do stuff we hate. It's the nature of life. DEAL WITH IT!

I asked him to at least notice when he doesn't have any clean socks left to maybe, I dunno, DO A LOAD OF LAUNDRY! To which he replied it's not in his nature to think that way. He'll never make that connection in his head. He's more likely to turn his socks inside out and keep wearing them than realize that he actually needs to do laundry for clean clothes to appear. He also said he's not trying to be rude or an asshole, but it's just the way his brain works. Frankly, I'm amazed and disgusted.

I told him I need help. That's all I'm asking for. Equality. Make dinner, pick up after yourself, fold some clothes, vacuum, throw away old mail. ANYTHING! Oh no, he said he'd take the laundry to the cleaners if I wanted him to do it. Makes me want to pull my hair out and scream. How can you be that fuckin lazy. To which he emphatically tells me, he's absolutely not lazy, he's just better at being the bread winner than the bread maker.

I'm gonna go burn my bra now. See if that gets his attention.

end rant.

Friends Making Bad Choices

I have had many a best friend in my life. The reason for the rotating door of best friend's is simple.

I can't watch people make bad choices.

First there was Brooke. She was this Bible beating, God fearing, virgin who I was best friend's with from about 8th through 10th grade. I was fine with her prophetic ways as long as she didn't mess with my ways.

She ended up tryin to mess with my ways, and slowly parted as friendships do. I'll never forget the horror that she felt when she found out I had (GASP!) lost my virginity to my boyfriend of two years.

Then came Emily. We were inseparable. I had idolized her from the moment I met her in 6th grade until the moment she fell from her pedestal sometime in my 20's. We played basketball together which was our initial draw. She ended up idolizing my musical abilities while I idolized her physical beauty and ability to draw men to her.

Yes, I had my fair share of boyfriends, in fact I don't believe I've ever been single longer than 9-10 months. She, however, had boys literally swooning for her. They would vi for her attention, send her flowers, beg her to take them back and so on and so forth until you want to vomit.

However, I eventually came to terms with the fact that she made some awful choices. She ended up being a total stranger and not at all like the girl I had made up in my mind she was supposed to be and we ended our friendship on rather heart broken terms. You will see me write letters to Emily from time to time here - that is the only way I talk to her anymore. No, she doesn't know about this site, and yes I've tried to regain the friendship. The ball is in her court - literally.

Then there was Jody, who wasn't much of a best friend but rather my backup during my card dealing days. We gravitated towards each other and had some fun. She had an AWFUL husband, who had hit her in the past. I hated him, and refused to be scared. He didn't like this much. He was used to people cowering in fear... sorry ass hole... not this chick.

We slowly parted ways due to the fact that I told her I will not discuss her bad marriage with her anymore until she's ready to get out of it. Then she'd get all the help in the world from me.

She did end up divorcing him. And promptly latching onto another deadbeat. I couldn't do it anymore, and let the friendship fade.

Now, my BFF is Nene. We suffered through quite a bit together: bad romances, drunkin nights, choir rehearsals from hell, roommates from hell, 911 calls, and four years of college. We usually are great as friends, she lives in WI, which is about 45 minutes away but I think I see her more than some of my family. We have a standing engagement for dinner once a week.

She understands people's need for space and I am starting to understand her need for seclusion. She's an only child and as such tends to be quite an introvert. We work well together because we'd drop everything if the other one needed it but we also don't need to talk everyday.

She's starting to make some very awful choices though. BY that I mean, bad men choices. She's always picked some awful dudes, but now she recognizes her natural draw to alcoholics and non-committal boys and STILL finds them.

Her most recent trend is dating guys from work. Guys that are not interested in having a relationship, that drink too much, that are MARRIED (yes, married), and that more importantly treat her like shit. Yet, she's drawn to them.

How do you tell a friend, she's gotta knock this crap off without being a total bitch??

I'm really too old to be finding myself a new best friend.

Not Gonna Tell

Right now I have the information and ability to tell on someone.

But I'm not going to.

Because if I were the one who didn't pay attention to the email by accident cause I was too busy, I would want whoever found out to have the discretion to not tell anyone.

Besides, it's really inconsequential. Doesn't effect any of my jobs too terribly, probably affects her job's more than mine. Which makes me kinda want to slide her a note that says, "psssst, just so you know your sites think they aren't supposed to work today on anything because you sent them an email last week saying the site was down all day, but really it's only down this evening."

I won't though. I'll just let the chips fall, because really - in the grand scheme of things. None of this matters.

so, i'm gonna be a good girl now.

Spring Cleaning

Before Mr. M returned from London on Friday night I thought it might be nice to have the house clean and beautiful for his arrival. I cleaned, scrubbed, dusted, polished, for FOUR and a half hours!

I can't believe what slobs we are.

Yea, I know most people say they are slobs but really their houses are ready for the cover of a magazine at a moments notice. I am truly not kidding when I say, we are utter and total slobs.

It looked so beautiful when Mr. M got home and he agreed it was quite lovely thanking me not once but TWICE with some much needed love making.

Since I usually do all my cleaning on the weekend I was totally lost as to what I should do with my time. So, I thought, what the hell, I'm this far I might as well really get the cobwebs out.

I got rid of every piece of clothing that hasn't been worn in over a year, every shoe, every belt, trinkets and baubles.

Now I am left with FOUR industrial sized garbage bags full of clothing downstairs and two giant tubs full of shoes.

How do we accumulate this much crap. Because to be honest, it's all crap, stuff that we don't need, stuff that has some weird sentimental attachment, "I wore this on our first date". Let's face it, it depresses me to keep all my jeans that don't fit me anymore around. I'm not a size 5-8 anymore. Yes I'm working out and yes, I'll probably be that again sometime in the very near future, but I'm not gonna think like that anymore. This is my body now and I'm not gonna tease myself everytime I try on the pants that I want to fit and they just DON'T.

I did attempt to throw out all of Mr.M's 80's clothes, but if I got rid of it all he'd have absolutely nothing to wear. Yes, the man looks drop dead handsome in his suits, ties, and shirts but DEAR god don't run into him on one of his days off. We're talkin collarless button up shirts in patterns that would put Bill Cosby's sweaters to shame. Gotta love a man who can look like a sexy GQ guy one day and an 80's throw back the next.

My job here is done...

Please Pass The Chivalry

Today on my lunch break I decided to go to Boston Market and get a caeser salad. I wanted something light and knew that they freshly toss their salads.

I parked the car and was walking in at about the same time as a string of 5 gentleman ranging in age from about 27-35 I would say.

As I was walking up to the entrance I realized that I'd be meeting them at the door so I started to slow down a bit since I hate the door holding. Sorry, let me clarify. I don't hate it when Mr. M does it or when my Dad does it, but I hate it when it's some dude I don't know and they wait an extra long time when they see you coming only to hold the door for you so you have to mumble "thanks" as they check out your ass when they follow you in.

So, I tried to go slow... so as to avoid this situation I really can't stand. Unfortunately that didn't work out... the WHOLE CREW (5 guys!) waited for me to get to the door, the leader of the pack was holding the door open for SERIOUSLY too long. Just go in already.

I did the polite thing, "thanks"... ass checking incured as I can feel their hot stares to my butt - remembering at just that time that I had sat on a crumb from my "reduced fat cinnamon coffee cake" from starbucks this morning so I had a big giant sticky cinnamon spot on my jeans.

I proceed to the counter to order and I took the long way around some tables as to avoid more ass staring in line. No go. They all followed me around the long way and as I stood a good 6 feet back from the counter, started forming a line behind me way back into the restaurant.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm sure these guys weren't trying to be disgusting and most likely they weren't even looking at my ass. I'm sure they were just trying to be polite, like their momma's taught them.

So finally I realized that they didn't get the hint that I wanted to look at the menu a bit and they were welcome to go ahead and order... I walked up and ordered, while the rest of them scrambled around behind me.

I understand Chivalry and I very much appreciate the idea of it in my relationships and personal friendships, but, really... ease up a bit mmmmkay?

With Sugar On Top

Tonight was the first tuesday of six that I will be spending three hours knee deep in frosting.

I'm signed up for a cake decorating class at the local bakery supply store about five blocks from my house. It's a beginner course and it only cost $45 so I thought, what the hell.

I thought that once you got older the age old stereotypes in classrooms defuse into one cohesive group of people that just all happened to want to learn about the same thing.

WOW, was I wrong.

I can go down the line of the other nine women in the class and they all fit nicely into their respective stereotypes.

First there is the "I have a masters degree" woman. You know the type.. every sentence starts with "well after I got my masters" or "when I was getting my masters" or "before I got my masters". All time has now become relative to at which time they became a new person.. which inevitably is when they received their piece of paper from whatever institution of learning deamed them dumbasses for spending MORE time in school. (hehe... yea, I'll probably get one too... so don't send hate mail!)

Then there is the "wallflower" ... whispers her name, blends in, can't remember anything specifically outstanding about her. I think she was even wearing white to match her blandness.

Next is the chick who wants everyone to know she's getting married. I call these women the "milk the marriage" girls. Every sentence begins with a story about there Fiance which they say with that little fianceeeeee inflection. "I wanted to take this class so I can hopefully be the uber-bride and make my own wedding cake... fiance, fiance, fiance". Yea yea....you're getting married, we got the point.

Then the "I'm with the girl who's getting married chick". She's just along for the ride so the "milk the marriage" girl can have someone to talk about color schemes and floral bouquets with. Usually the maid of honor or bridesmaid of some sort.

Next in line at the table was the "sorry I'm late, I have kids" mom. She looked frazzled and apologetic that she was 20 minutes late for the first class but began saying something about sick kids and then just gave up on her excuse and sat down. She has two little girls 4 and 2.. frankly I don't blame her. AND, I might add, if the instructor started needling ME about why I was late in front of the whole class and I had two sick little girls at home... I woulda told her to FUCK RIGHT OFF cause I'm paying HER to be there.

Two more non-descript women followed.

Then there was the too extremely older women with exceedingly noticeable blue eyeshadow from eyebrow to eyeliner. One with a cane the other very overweight. But they were sweet and were really there to get out of the house I think.

My favorite in the whole class who was of course sitting next to me, because I'm always just that damn lucky was "senora smarty pants". Hair cut in a precise bob with bangs wearing all denim even down to her ked's. Perfect penmenship and elaborate note taking proceedure. At one point she actually GRABBED my hand and pulled it away from my notes and said "I'm copying off your notes could you move your hand." She also was the type to try and catch the instructor in any contradiction she could possibly sniff out. Mention rather point blank that "no one touches my baking things because I live alone!" she said this proudly, not in an ashamed or aside manner. Good for her... but really, who gives a shit.

Then there is me... who I trust me I have no notions of grandeur about myself. I know I talk to much, too loud, am a class clown who tries for the perfect little pun or funny comment at all times. I usually get a laugh... and did quite a bit tonight. However, I'm not under any false pretenses .. and I know all those women are definitely blogging about me tonight saying, "and then there was the 'loud girl' who wouldn't shut up." FINE BY ME! :D

I'm not too keen on my instructor. I think she's taking this a bit too seriously. After the description of my fellow classmates you get the feeling we're all a bit low key about this. Yea, we want to learn, but it ain't college and NO, I'm not going to "call ahead" if I won't be there. I'm sure you'll all do fine without me.

The instructor might be a bit OCD too. She mentioned more than once that we were not allowed to call the towels R-A-G's. Yes, she actually spelled it with a disgusted face and a wrinkled nose. She also said that there was a washing sink, rinsing sink, and drying sink. NO MIXING SINKS! NO washing your couplers, tips or anything but your hands in the sinks!!! yada yada yada. She's a freak, but oh well, all I care is that she can make a rose and teach me in the process.

Mr. M will be home in three more sleeps, so I'm gonna get this one over with right now.

What do you think of the idea of bringing him daisies or iris' when he gets off the plane? (his two favorite flowers). Too girly? Too predictable?

Maybe I'll just make him a cake, with my new MAD SKILZ!

Not So Bad

I realize that I write more about what pains me than anything else in my life. For some reason I'm only inclined to blog when I'm feeling my most tension, angst, or pain. Unfortunately this doesn't give a very good representation of myself.

Not that this is supposed to be some sort of image of me... but I want to be able to look back at my blog and be able to see the happy things that I have lived through not just the turmoil.

So on that note... I am going to compile a small list of the things I like about daily life right now.

1. Mr. M (of course he's at the top of the list!)
2. My kitten .. who's not really a kitten at all more like a HUGE round ball of fur (16 lbs to be exact)
3. I live in a house, not an apartment or condo... a house with a yard and my own kitchen and I can paint the walls or redecorate however I want. (even though it's actually Mr. M's house he gives me full decoration rights).
4. I own a lovely upright piano that is black lacquer shiny. I LOVE it shiny. It's got such a lovely full rich sound. Tone quality is more like a grand than any other upright I've played.
5. Cake Decorating Class starts tonight! can't wait!
6. Actually like my job right now. I mean... like REALLY like it. Company respects its employees and TRUSTS its employees which is a much welcomed feeling compared to the last place ..ewww
7. Working out 3-5 times a week. Now, if I could just lose a few pounds I'd be more happy about this one.
8. Financially comfortable. Not to mention Mr. M is quite a bit more than just comfortable which is always a nice little safety net if need be.
9. Mr. M's mother... saint is probably the only word to describe her. She loves me and I love her.
10. My family - although they piss me off at times, they are always there no matter if you told them to Fuck off yesterday or not.
11. Lush bath and body products... which reminds me I need to restock. If only it wasn't so expensive!
12. baking.. I love to bake. Cookies, cakes, pies, breads, everything. I like it even more if I have people who want to eat it.
13. Singing. I think I might get into some summer theater. Just for old times sake.
14. Free laundry. That goes with the house.. but I will NEVER take that for granted.
15. New clothes. They feel and look so nice. Then you wash them... and the shiny brand new magic washes away.
16. Baking gadgets. If you were to look at my amazon wish list (located in the right sidebar) you'd see I have a serious obsession with baking paraphanalia.
17. New hairbrush... feels so nice.
18. Sitting on the porch at night listening to early choral music with soaring soprano or contratenor parts while snuggling under a blanket rubbing eachothers toes to keep warm. now that is bliss.
19. sleeping in, especially when it's a bit cold in the house and the down comforter is warm and toasty.

did I mention mr. m?

yea, I thought so.

1st Time For Everything

First time blogging half drunk.

Ok, maybe not half... definitely half the bottle so... probably more like all the way drunk.

I dropped him at the airport today. London bound.

I love that man.

I had separation anxiety, literally. I started to get short of breath, got hot, started sweating, heart beating... the whole deal.

I told him I was internalizing his anxiety (he doesn't travel well). But, I knew what it was. I was nervous to sleep alone for five days.

That's pathetic, isn't it.

I've been single for long stretches of time in my life before. And, by long I mean, 6-9 months. hehe. Now THAT is pathetic.

I've slept alone for years... why is it so difficult now. Why do I feel I need to drink half a bottle of wine in order to sleep alone and not worry about the sounds the house is making or that when I roll over the warmth of him isn't there?

One word.

Pathetic.

more tomorrow, when I'm not a big drunk dork.