P.S.
So, I am super fat lately. It's hot out and food=comfort, and I am a moo cow.
But they say knowing is half the battle.
Anyhow, I hate being super fat. Not enough to give up booze forever and let them make my stomach the size of a walnut for 40 grand, but enough to do some exercise and eat fruit or something.
As we speak, my iPod is charging (OK, maybe not when you read this, but while I'm typing).
Why is it charging, you ask?
Because I really am, honest to God, going to start that C25K (couch to 5k) program tonight. Honest.
I am going to run and shit.
I am not sure if it will work, or if I will have knee caps when I'm finished, but right now it sounds like a great idea.
The podcasts are downloaded (uploaded?) to my iPod and I am ready to try it tonight. I will report back with my progress!
Odd
So, this is something interesting.
I just got kicked out of a Meetup group. That's something for the ol' self-esteem, isn't it?
I had been following the group for a while but the old organizer didn't plan very fun things. So, I just kind of watched, figuring something enjoyable would come along.
The group got a new organizer, so things looked promising. In fact, they had a super cool event last week. Unfortunately, I had to work.
So, new organizer sends me an e-mail today saying that since I never participate in anything (his one event that I would've gone to had I not had to work, apparently), he has deleted me from the group.
Of course, if I were deleted due to a misunderstanding, I could re-join.
There is also a link where I can click and e-mail him my "feedback," but I don't think that Meetup wants me to give him my feedback, which currently keeps coming out looking a little like "Why don't you go fuck yourself, new guy?"
I mean, seriously, who the eff deletes someone because they didn't go to one event? Why not ask "Hey, why didn't you go?" Or, better yet, Mr, Ace Leader, why not ask, "What kind of events would you be interested in going to?"
I am sure there was some reasoning in his little pea brain about why this was a good idea. I'm sure. Maybe someone who did go got drunk and pissed in a flower pot so he decided to clean house. Yeah, let's go with that.
But, really, there is no law against lurking on the Internet. If there were, I'd have issued several citations in these parts. (Hi, lurkers! Happy Monday!)
Oh well, obviously he doesn't deserve to be graced with my presence anyway. And I don't think I could re-join and go to one of his little cooking events without stabbing him in the hand with a fork.
It still all seems very jerky and un-nice to me. But I have been known to be wrong, and I am in a snit that coffee can't even cure today.
Aside from not being allowed to cook with strangers on the Internet anymore, life has been OK. A few bumps in the road, but nothing I can't handle.
I had a very good weekend, but I'd rather not talk about it because I am sure that others here would think it wasn't good and would get all bent out of shape at me because of it. Oh well.
Maybe someday I'll be able to talk more about it. Or maybe it's nothing. I haven't figured it out yet.
I'm starting to wonder if I will ever get caught up financially. I got thrown another curve ball today, but it is making me grumpy to think about it.
The house might start to fall into place soon. Fingers crossed.
Odds and ends
This isn't a real post, just a few thoughts.
First of all, there is a fine line between being forgiving and understanding and being a sucker. Always remember that.
Second of all, I keep wondering when this blog will stop getting me in trouble. Probably never, but I guess that's OK. At least if people are pissed off, you know they're paying attention.
Third, a friend told me to do a post on politics. While I normally find that to be an interesting topic and it lets me use that $30,000 piece of paper on my wall, frankly, right now I am frightened for America. Perhaps I wouldn't be if I didn't have that piece of paper. Or carried guns.
Lastly, I forgot to tell you one of the best things about my friend Cindy during my Cindy love-fest. Cindy hails from Alabama, and she is a true Sweet-Potato-Queens-and-Steel-Magnolias Southern lady. She has given me some of her great Southern recipes (right up there with Paula Deen). She will fight until the day is over for the Crimson Tide. She has taught me much about life in the South, and she loves me even though I don't particularly like grits. But maybe my favorite thing about her Southern charm is that when she signs her name, she signs "Mrs. Husband's Name."
I think that is so cool. So Southern. It makes me want to drink sweet tea on a veranda.
Some people might say it's out-dated and old-fashioned, but Cindy is neither of those things. She's just proper, and she was raised right. She is a strong, amazing Southern woman. If life were truly Steel Magnolias, she would be Sally Field's character.
And I would be that ditzy chick that helped Dolly Parton at the beauty shop :)
Home Sweet Home
Two days in a row... I hope no one at home has a heart attack.
Actually, writing is cathartic. Especially when I am writing about things other than "How to help your mother adjust to the nursing home." It's helpful to the reader and somewhat interesting, but sometimes work gets blah, you know.
Things are coming along in my home. I got a new vacuum, and the carpets look brand new. Definitely an exciting new purchase. And, I like vacuuming now, so that's a plus. Maybe if I get a fancy new washer and dryer, I will like to do laundry? No, let's not push it.
This weekend, my friend is moving into my guest room. It has been quiet all by myself, so that will be a nice change. She picked out the color for her bedroom, which desperately needed painting, and it's kind of a dark teal. I think it will be nice.
In my bedroom and bathroom, I have picked out the colors, but we aren't quite to painting time yet. We'll get there, but not yet. My bathroom is going to look like the color of the water at Maho and my bedroom walls are going to be the color of sand. We'll see how it turns out in the end, but the samples look pretty good.
Downstairs, I don't have too many plans. Because of the open floor plan, I am going to put crown molding in the living room and dining room to define the formal space. My buffet has arrived, but it's in two boxes in the kitchen, patiently awaiting its assembly.
The bathroom is the most pressing project, and it's not even necessary. I am just trying to put my own touch on the house. I will probably paint this week while I am doing the other room, I just need to pick out the rest of the art and accessories. I heard a rumor that TJ Maxx's home store has an Eiffel Tower wall mural that would be perfect. Excellent.
Eventually, I have plans for the kitchen. Not too much, because I like my kitchen. But I want to put in a copper tile backsplash and butcher block counters. Maybe paint the cupboards white? I haven't decided for sure on that... That's more long term than the other stuff.
I will post pictures once things are done. It might be a while. After all, my furniture is still in storage. :)
Ask, and ye shall receive
Apparently you get yelled at when you go several weeks without updating your blog. But since I love Cindy, I will figure out something to write so she will be happy. A happy Cindy is better than no Cindy at all.
After all, been there, done that and got the t-shirt. And it wasn't very fun at all. Cindy is also fun. And she's known in these parts as a woman who has the amazing ability to talk me off the ledge. She can be my rock. And believe me, floating in the ocean with no sign of your rock is no fun. (Unless you're floating off Maho, but I think Cindy would agree with me on that...)
Really, that Cindy love-fest should be a sufficient post for her. Right? :)
All of that reminds me of the time when I didn't have Cindy in my life, when our friendship had fallen apart. I didn't think there was any hope of salvaging it. But I try to do what's right and never burn bridges in my life. (Although I can say there is one time that I am not very proud of when I was not very nice to Cindy. And I hate that I got caught up in all that drama and fell in that trap.)
I am a good person, and I try to be a good friend. Sometimes I'm not as good at it as I would like. But my friends, for the most part, seem to like me and stick around. Some of them have even told me that they enjoy spending time with me and consider me to be a good friend.
I'll go with that.
I've really been thinking a lot about friends lately. And I have been tempted to throw out the proverbial baby with the bath water. I've pared down my friends list and learned that some people were never really friends at all. Some people have just moved on with their lives, but some people, I believe, are truly incapable of sharing their lives in a healthy, meaningful manner with other people.
If you're reading this and think that last paragraph is about you, you figure out where you fit in the picture. I'm way too tired to try to do that.
For the most part, I have excised The Elf from my life. A while ago, I was asked to limit my contact with his fans and remove myself from any places on the Internet where he might be talked about. Although I found that request to be a bit asshole-y, I understood why it was asked and really that whole fan thing had run its course. And besides, you really do look like a pathetic biddy sitting on the Internet all day arguing with strangers about a stranger. And even if you do know what's going on, none of those house fraus are going to believe it. Because they are super fans and they know everything and you best not fuck with them.
(We interrupt this program for roaring laughter. Now, as you were.)
Really, after you've lived in Nashville and talked over beers with artists (big and small), you learn that being a fan is really not cool. It's OK to appreciate someone's music, but you don't need to be in their fan club or go to all their concerts or -- God forbid -- wear their shirts in public. And don't even wind me up about those fan club cruises. Let's just say that stars are not fans of cruising with fans, and leave it at that.
The Elf seems to hate his fans, and in some ways I can't blame him. After all, there are some days that I really hate some of his fans, but that's another therapy session.
However, some of my very best friends I know because of The Elf. Not all of them, but there are several that are not going to be pared off my friends list. But these are all friends that I can have meaningful conversations with that have nothing to do about The Elf. Which is good, because I don't know shit about him these days. I hear he has a new album coming out, and I'm sure I will listen if the music is good and he's not just singing about frat parties. He needs to grow up, but that's also another therapy session.
He's not in my life these days, aside from a random song on the radio once in a while. Much like all the drama mamas who populate his fan club, he actually seems to be a big fan of drama himself. I think he spawns it, to be honest with you.
But now he, his drama and his drama mamas are in my rearview mirror.
My friends these days are my friends. They are women who held my hand when I was scared. They are women who took my late-night phone calls when I had lost my shit. They are women who have travelled cross-country to visit me, and I have done the same for them. We travel together, and we know that no matter what, we are always there for each other. Sometimes, that is needing a place to crash when your brother's small Miami apartment is overrun by family and other times it is meeting someone at Walmart to get groceries because your roommate has run off without paying and you're hungry until payday.
Sure, with some of them, that initial meeting revolved around an aging country singer with a Napolean complex. And it seems like for every Elfin relationship that has been blessed, there is one that has been cursed. Celebrities make some people turn into nuttos, you know. Or perhaps they were always nuts, and it just took you a little while to notice.
I guess this week I have been reflecting on relationships. I'll blame that evil devil called Facebook. I think the straw that broke the camel's back, the incident that precipitated this post was when a friend (or I guess at this point I should probably say "former friend") deleted some comments on Facebook after I replied to them. I didn't have a falling out with this person that I knew of, although I hadn't talked to her for a while. I know I sure as fuck didn't do anything to her. True, I don't chase people I don't know across America to go into debt watching the same boring concert over and over and over again anymore, but that doesn't make me a bad person. Definitely not someone you'd delete your comments if they replied to them. And what I said was true. Up until that point, she was more than welcome in my home. Now, I'm a little pissed.
Sometimes you just grow apart from people. God knows I've grown up in the last few years. I am finally a homeowner. I have learned the importance of the balances on the Visa going down instead of up. This time last year, I was even responsible for the life of a child. Yes, I'm pretty damn grown up these days.
But everyone's journey is their own. That's important to remember. And if you have to leach on to someone else's journey because yours is not sufficient, then that is sad.
I don't even know what I am trying to say anymore. Just rambling on about friendships and lives changing. I guess if you're still reading and you're still my friend, I'd like to thank you for that. I'd like to think that I've surrounded myself with a great group of folks. I'd like to think they think the same thing about me.
I am sure things will still change along the way. Humans are evolving creatures. Life happens.
But for right now, I am content. And I sleep more without my phone being lit up by late-night drama.
