Baby, you can drive my car...
OK, I have three car payments left and I actually owe less on my car than it is worth.
And now I'm itching for a new one.
GM is doing an owner loyalty promotion right now, and I am so tempted to go buy a Pontiac Vibe. A navy blue one.
I'm just not sure.
I am thinking that I will probably wait until August when that accident comes off my record so I can afford the insurance on two cars.
If I want a car payment. I might just drive this one until it's too expensive to fix.
We'll see. I might to take a spin tonight and see what I think. It's a stupid time to spend money on anything. The economy is such a mess and we should be saving where we can...
Song of the day: "Little GTO" by Ronnie and the Daytonas. (I can't ever afford one, but it's still my dream car. Probably why I've convinced myself I want a Pontiac, even though a Cobalt would be cheaper...)
Wanna see something cool?
Hi, all. I have something cool to show you.
Go to You Tube, and watch
the video for Toby Keith's new song "God Love Her." I don't normally like TK, but I loved this song before I saw the video. But then I saw it, and the coolness happened.
Last Sunday, my man and I are watching TV, and the video came on.
Me: That looks a lot like your church.
It is, and that's what makes it cool. On our way back to his house, he took me there and we went inside and he showed me around. The minister was there, who offered no guilt trip because we went to see Bobby sing and slept right through the service. (I'm Catholic, so I still have guilt. And now, I'm going to Tunica this weekend. I hate missing church.) He did, however, tell us all about the video and all the changes TK made for the shooting. They've left most of them, which makes some of the old timers a little grumpy.
It's a good video. And it's a very cool church. Reminds me of Mt. Hermon.
Brown liquor
Yesterday afternoon, I got a text that said: "Can you stop and pick up my friend Jack on your way home from work?"
(This is where we pause and you all say: How the hell did Laura find herself a boyfriend who loves Jack Daniels, Merle Haggard and the beach as much -- if not more -- as she does?)
Anyhow, we went to Wendell's and cashed my check to buy a bottle of Jack Black (classy, I know...). And then we went home, and he drank almost an entire bottle of whiskey, just trying to drown out the memories of these ghosts that haunt him. I know he had a shitty day, but I don't really want to watch him self-destruct.
He got so sick, and I was scared. And all I wanted to do was sleep, and he was in my bathroom throwing up. I left him on the couch this morning looking worse for wear. I hope he's feeling better soon enough.
How a woman who walked out years ago can reduce a strong man to a shaking, crying mess who drinks an entire fifth of whiskey to quiet the demons is beyond me. It just made me sad to see it. I hate seeing him so vulnerable like that.
Just more of the fall-out from a colossally screwed up relationship...
Oh, and funny sidebar: After begging him to stop drinking, I finally won the bottle back by answering a trivia question. "Who's the proprietor of Jack Daniels?"
My reply: Lem Motlow, of course.
He acted shocked that I knew. Seriously, I know Jack.
Song of the day: "Tennessee Whiskey" by David Allan Coe.
Bitches.
Anyone who still reads this knows that I don't even know how to play games. I don't know how to work the system or play the field. I just am who I am, and you can like it or leave it.
I saw an article today that it takes more time to lie than it does to tell the truth. So, there is one more "pro" for being an honest, upstanding citizen.
As if being an honest, upstanding citizen wasn't enough.
I'm fed up with lying, manipulating bitches. All they do is wreak havoc on the lives of those around them and leave a path of destruction behind.
I am sick of picking up the pieces they have left behind. I'm sick of being hurt because someone has been so hurt before that they can't even imagine loving anymore.
If you happen to be a bitch who treats your loved ones like shit (I'm not sure if any of them still read this, but feel free to forward it on), I am begging you to think about those of who come after you. Because you know you're not sticking around. Before you break hearts for sport, think of those of us whom you will probably never, ever meet who will be sitting at their desks crying because we can't figure out how to clean up the fucking mess you left.
I should be happy. Hell, Chris should be happy. He shouldn't be haunted by the ghosts of evil bitches incapable of having a meaningful relationship.
I feel like I've been slapped. And seriously, bitches should be scared because there are a few I would like to slap right now. At least then they'd have something to bitch about, because the lying is so unbecoming.
Song of the Day:
"I'm Not Lisa" by Jessi Colter and Waylon Jennings
Wow, it's been a while.
Don't you like that I disappear for weeks on end? Well, my friends, I think some of you might call it "having a life."
I've definitely been busy lately, enjoying my life. I started training for the half-marathon. It's not going so well, but I'm further along than I thought. Of course, we made our reservations for St. John for 8 Tuff Miles 2010, so I have a year to really get in shape so I can conquer that beast.
Life has been great lately. It's had a few ups and downs, but for the most part, it's going really well. I have been cooking up a storm and spending a lot of time cuddled up on the couch watching TV. It's nice to not go home to an empty house all the time. In fact, I am going on day three of having the house to myself, and I'm not really so good at it anymore. You take it for granted when someone is always around.
Toyland still stinks, but I think I'll be there for a while. I have a two-year-old who needs stuff and, frankly, money is a teeny bit tight right now. (Did I mention we just reserved a place to stay DURING HIGH SEASON on St. John for next year? It's a deal, and it beats camping, but it still costs money. And besides, it gives me a goal with the weight loss stuff.)
I'm getting to the point where I have a love-hate relationship with the trainer. The scale says that I've only lost around five pounds, but I am down with body fat and I am firming up. I had to go buy all new bras last week. And, of course, if I would stick to my training schedule on my "off" days and not eat a whole bunch of chocolate because I have PMS, that'd probably help.
It's funny. I'm the happiest I've been in ages, maybe my whole life. Oh sure, there are bumps in the road, like last night when I was feeling totally neglected. But it's not that feeling of neglect that has plagued the last year of my life. When a one-year "anniversary" went by with barely a peep, that's when I realized I was doing myself a great disservice by not moving on. So, I sucked it up and met a stranger at Applebee's for supper over a month ago. The rest, as they say, is history. I have this great little girl and wonderful man who appreciates me who have just lit up my life. Yeah, it's not ideal to be involved with a single dad, but at my age, everyone seems divorced with kids. And besides, how a dad treats his children tells you a lot about him. And what it tells me is that I'm very lucky to have these two people in my life, even though I didn't plan on just waking up with a two-year-old one day. At least I've mastered healthy chicken nuggets for supper!
And now, almost like it's a day late and a dollar short, someone else has woken up and said, "Oh, I've been neglecting Laura for months. Maybe I should pay attention to her." I just don't know what to say. It's not like I wanted to move on. In fact, that's the last thing I wanted in my whole life. This was a person I could see forever with, and he ignored me most of the time. I never felt good enough, and it wasn't enough. Maybe he just didn't know how to do the long-distance thing, maybe he did have someone better than me, too. Regardless, our relationship is probably way past its expiration date. Yes, I still care about him, but when I was up against the wall and felt like I had no choice but to go on with my life, I did. And I'm not going to hurt anyone else to go back to that cycle of rejection and loneliness that I foolishly called a "relationship" for several months.
Life is good. Except for the constant vibration of my cell phone today and not knowing what my response should be. Or if a response is even dignified at this point.
My reply ended up being: "I miss you too," which will always be true, I suspect.
Endorphins?
Maybe it's the endorphins talking, but I am feeling better today.
Of course, my new strategy is to avoid the problem at hand. And, honestly, I think that's just fine.
I was given some information. I have processed that information and have decided that, at least for the time being, I am done with the information. Done. No more talking about it.
Besides, it is only a problem if I make it a problem, and I have no intentions of doing that. I'm going to just say "Thanks for telling me. I appreciate that," and be done.
We'll see if it works. I really hope it does.
I know I'm being vague. But honestly, it's not something I can talk about in any way, shape or form. It's not my place to talk about it. And besides, I am pretending I don't know, remember?
Today we found out that while none of our jobs are threatened, we won't be getting a pay increase anytime soon. In some ways, that is good news in the current economy. Things are going to be a little tight for me for a while, but I still have a good job that I like, so that makes it more palatable news.
But, this reminded me of last year when I got my raise. I had been so worried about my job, and instead of getting laid off, I got a raise. I was pretty damn excited.
I called one of my friends, and we were supposed to go to dinner to celebrate. I couldn't wait.
I drove to her house and sat in her parking area and called her to tell her I was there.
No answer.
I sent her a text, "Hey, I'm here. Let's go to dinner and celebrate."
I never heard anything that night.
I called Will that night, and I cried. I had this HUGE accomplishment that I wanted to celebrate, and I got stood up. And, even though it was neither the first time nor the last time, it was probably the most painful time.
That's when I realized that Will was someone who deserved to be in my life. And this person, someone whom I agonized about hurting her feelings because of my relationship with Will, probably didn't rank nearly as high as he did. She should've, because she was supposed to be my best friend.
But, your best friend doesn't hurt you like that. They are there when you need them, not just when they don't get a better offer. You have to be able to count on your best friend.
And sure, things with Will haven't been all roses and posies. Hell, I don't even know how to define "things with Will" these days. But he has been there for me more times than I can count in the last year.
If nothing else, Will, along with many other people in the past year, has taught me some very valuable lessons about relationships...
WTF?
I told you that if I spoke too loudly, the fates would hear me and probably swoop in and relieve me of my happiness.
I'm guessing that perhaps I spoke too loudly.
I learned something yesterday that rocked my world. And no, I'm never talking about it. It's a secret that I'm taking all the way to my grave. So don't even ask.
(Yes, I mean you.)
I thought it would be OK. I was fine all day.
And then I came home and decided after I worked out, that I would try to learn a little bit more about this situation I've somehow got myself in.
Four hours later, I am sitting here in my shorts and soggy dollar t-shirt. I have done zero push-ups, zero sit-ups and haven't touched a weight. And I'm not going to. The only weights I'm dealing with are the ones on my shoulders.
I'm confused and sad. I missed all of Grey's Anatomy. I ate two pieces of tiramisu -- thank goodness it was low-fat (and delicious, but more on that later!).
Every time things start to get good, life kicks me in the gut.
It's getting old.
I'll figure it all out. I always do.
It just sucks to cry until your eyes and nose hurts, especially when it seems like it happens all the fucking time.
Hi, I'm Polly. Polly Homemaker.
OK, let's briefly ignore the fact that I chose to sleep instead of take my Christmas decorations down on January 6th. I'll do it tonight. I promise.
But, other than that, the urge to be Polly Homemaker is in full effect.
I am rushing home in a few minutes to make spaghetti with garlic bread and maybe a caesar salad. One thing is for sure: there'll be awesome wine, because Jane got me awesome wine for Christmas.
I'm thinking I'll use the rest of the beef cubes to make beef stew in the crock pot in a few days.
I'm also going to try my hand at making "Chinese take-out" lemon chicken. You know, lighten up my restaurant favorites?
I need to go grocery shopping. This diet thing is hard when you don't have food. Which is not really true. I have plenty of food. It's just a question whether it's food I want to eat or not.
One could make the assumption that I am enjoying cooking so much because I have a guinea pig who eats everything I put on the table. Of course, this means more cooking because there are less leftovers.
Which is fine, because if I had to eat one more cabbage roll...
Little milestones
When you have as much work to do as I do, you start to savor those little milestones.
That's why I want to share one.
When I first started with the trainer in December, we did some tests to see how strong I was.
One of those tests was to see how long I could do a wall squat. I barely made it 10 seconds before I collapsed.
Today, I did my wall squat for more than a minute.
And, have I told you that I'm pretty sure I have less back fat?
(Now that we're done talking about my back fat, I want to take a second for a political sidebar. I'm sure this Burris chap from Illinois is a great guy. But, it doesn't matter if he's white, black or has polka dots, he couldn't believe that Blagojevich's appointment would stand. It is not a racist thing. It's not even against Burris. The man who appointed you has been indicted for trying to sell a Senate seat to the highest bidder. That's shady, even by Chicago standards. Surely Mr. Burris has to realize that even if there were no shenanigans involved in his appointment, until this mess is figured out, it's just not going to fly. Oh well, just another day in Washington.)
The Roti report
I did make chicken roti a few weeks ago, and it was delicious.
The mango chutney was not exactly what I get at Soggy Dollar. There's some at Trader Joe's I am looking to try on the next go 'round.
Just one word of warning on the roti: If you have leftovers and heat it up in your microwave, it is going to make it stink like curry for several days.
Don't ask how I know.
But still, it was delicious. It would be better with a painkiller. Next time.
I'm not dead.
This will be a quickie. I am heading out the door after a long day at work. I am trying to decide if I have time to go to the gym and walk three miles before I go out to supper at Ruby Tuesday's, where I plan to have those little burgers I see on TV.
And mango mojitos and the salad bar.
So, yes, gym it is.
The gym is going well. Jenny continues to torture me twice weekly and half-marathon training starts next week. I have also been doing water aerobics on Mondays and Wednesdays. I am pleased to report a noticeable reduction in back fat and what apparently used to be my ass.
But, there's also something weird going on with the girls, quite possibly caused by an extraordinary number of chest presses, and I think I may have to look into new bras.
If you are a chesty gal, you understand I might need a loan to replace my foundation garment collection.
I'm all caught up on my bills, and there is still money in my bank account. I am waiting for the other shoe to drop...
Yesterday, all my friends came over and I made a big Polish feast, complete with double berry martinis made with Sobieski vodka. My grandmother would've been proud.
I miss her a lot. She was such a great woman.
OK, kids, I am off. I will try to check in more frequently. Life is good, but I'm trying not to talk too loudly, lest the fates hear me and take it all away!
