Hide The Mess

friends, family, crafts & weight

I told a friend that I felt betrayed by something she continually did and that it made me want to put up a wall in our friendship. I didn’t get much of a reaction, just an “oh really” and then she moved on to other topics. And that is when I decided to put some distance between us. I keep wondering if I should tell her that’s what I’m doing or just let her figure it out. Maybe if I were a better person I would tell her, but a part of me feels like I already did and got blown off so… ok. Fine.  I guess I’m waiting for her to say something to me but since I know her and have been friends with her for more than a decade, I already know she isn’t going to say anything. She’s let me put space and distance in our friendship before and said nothing, so I guess this will be a repeat of that. Maybe that is the cycle of this particular relationship. I am still on the fence about whether I’m ok with that.

Other things are fine. Our Thanksgiving was pretty fun. We cooked for my Dad & Step Mom, watched the Cowboy game and then had dinner with the in-laws. It’s the first time I’ve seen my Dad on Thanksgiving in almost 10 years. This bothers my husband a lot and I have a feeling that future Thanksgivings will include him. I don’t know how or when it was decided that Thanksgivings were spent with my Mom’s family, maybe because they have the big hoopla and my Dad’s family doesn’t so growing up we always went to my Mom’s family for Thanksgiving, my Dad’s family for Christmas Eve and back to my Mom’s for Christmas Day. I was 15 when they divorced so I think keeping that order of things at the time was important. Our world had already been turned upside down so I can see how keeping the holiday traditions intact was important. But dude, that was over 20 years ago. My sister stopped going to my Mom’s Thanksgiving when they moved to Kansas and drop in occasionally when they can work it into their schedule, which is easier now that they are back in Texas. And now that I’m married I understand that holidays are going to work differently. That things will change, and I won’t do the things I have done for 30+ years. I am really fine with it. I don’t mind going to a couple of places on the holidays – but my family makes it hard sometimes and there were years where I bounced from place, to place, to place, to place to make everyone happy. All it did for me was make me bitchy and miserable. Not quite the attitude I’m looking for during the holidays. It will be interesting to see how things go this year. It could be the year that everything changes. I think I am ok with that.

I’ve started crocheting. I haven’t actually made anything; I’m just putting a bunch of rows together – getting the hang of things. So far, I am digging it. More than I ever dug making that quilt, so that’s a good sign. I’m going to meet The BFF this week and she’s going to show me how to do things like – END THE DAMN THING. Ha. I know how to start, but I do not know how to finish! The first piece I started working on is so awful that it has turned back in on itself and become awesome in its own hideous sort of way. I am very excited to show it to her so she can admire how awful it is with me! The Husband and I went to the fabric store on Black Friday because they were having a sale on yarn and he picked out something for me to make him a scarf out of, we’ll see how it goes. He might never wear it – or he might wear it once and then quietly place it in the back of his closet. I think he might fear a crocheted scarf on a dude is gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! But you know, we all have our limits. I married a man who is very much a dude. Builds things with his hands. Works on cars. Can fix ANYTHING. Seriously. He really can. It is quite awesome.

I am unhappy with my weight.
That’s all. And no, that is not a new thing. It’s just something that is on my mind a lot lately. Because my clothes are tight. I need to go on a diet or start working out harder – actually I should probably do both. Instead I purchased some diet pills. I checked online and apparently they suck, so … that was an unwise purchase. I probably should have researched BEFORE I purchased. I think I want to try Jillian Michaels QuickStart Rapid Weight-Loss System. I have a wicked girl crush on her and would very much enjoy her yelling at me. Maybe I’ll ask for one of her DVD’s for Christmas.

I’m just a crabby old lady

Since the 24 Hour Fitness near my house sucks big, hairy, donkey dick I found a new one. So na-na-na-na-na-na. And by new I mean it's a new location, it's not just new to me. Everything is new and shiny and they are actually open 24 Hours, it's not just a clever name! And also - the sauna: always on! And it's awesome. Well, it's mostly awesome. There was some dude who was entirely too friendly with me this morning. Like commenting on my figure and asking me personal questions. Although he framed one of his questions like this: "How old are you, like 21?" and seriously people, I do not look 21. I do not have the body of a 21 year old. That question was bullshit. And a little insulting. I mean, come on - do I look stupid enough to actually buy that? (Please say no!) And really, why didn't he stop talking to me once the whole having a boyfriend was discussed. (Did I mention to you guys I have a boyfriend? What? I did? Whoops. My bad.) Or why didn't the presence of an iPod deter him? I kept having to turn down the music to hear him, and then turn it back up and feign interest in the television because I really didn't want to talk to him anymore. He was creeping me out. I think it was the comments about my figure that were the most uncomfortable. I mean, sure, it's nice if someone thinks you have a nice figure but it's gross if they relay that information in a pervy, creepy, wouldn't take no for an answer if you were trapped in a bar with him sort of way. And just FYI to all you fellas out there, asking a woman who is clearly not 21 if she is 21 is not a compliment. I've seen 21 year old girls these days and they are a wee bit whorish for my taste. I know, I'm just a crabby old lady.

More evidence I'm an old lady? When Mr. Florida suggested going to dinner and then just hanging out at his house for New Year's Eve, I was all over that. Because I'm old and tired and have been non-stop since November and I need a break. Recently the lack of sleep has started to take a toll on ... well, pretty much everything. I was more often than not a whiney, bratty, cry baby. Oh and also, my face broke out like a 13 year old girls, so that helped my mood. A LOT. I was just so tired all of the time. And I know, I know, I know, big deal, I have a big family. I have a lot to do. BIG EFFING DEAL. But I guess it's a big deal to the people who are in my immediate area. Like you know, my coworkers. Friday I popped a gasket about something - one of those things as a mere employee you can't do anything about but it gets under your skin anyway and if you're in a bad mood, or sleep deprived or have been white knuckling a sugar addiction for a month because you want some of those baked goods BAD! it becomes the focus of all of your pent up anger and / or frustration and then you end up yelling and your coworkers start instant messaging you because they are all like "you go!" which is fine, but honestly, there are just some things you can't do anything about, and so bitching and yelling about it is like screaming into the wind. The screaming part feels good, but no one can hear you and you end up with a sore throat.
Annnndddd inhale.

Dear 24 Hour Fitness

Your name is misleading. You are not open 24 Hours and now the hours for the sauna have changed from 5am-12am to 6am-12am. What. The. Fuck. So those of us who work out at the buttcrack of dawn are just S.O.L.? I changed my workout schedule once to accommodate the whole sauna coming on at 5am thing - this time, maybe I'll just cancel my fucking membership. Or not. Maybe I'll just bitch about it because apparently, THAT IS WHAT I DO.

Please Leave Your Clothes On

Ok, so I'm sitting in the sauna, reading a book, sweating my ass off (and that's a whole lotta sweatin') when someone walks in. I don't look up, because I don't want to make eye contact and possibly have to make small talk with weirdo people in the sauna. And then I hear this person remove their wet swim suit - and look up - because ... uh hello? Co-ed Sauna - nakedness is NOT OK - and I can't sit there and not know if someone has just gotten naked in the sauna. Anyway, there's this kinda large Mexican Dude who has removed his swim trunks leaving him with some sort of black Speedo type thing - which by the way, just a tip, large Mexican Dudes should stay away from the Speedo - I'm just sayin' ... and I swear to the Lord Baby Jesus In A Manger - that Speedo? REVEALED EVERYTHING. Like, what was the point of this garment exactly if it just reveals all of his .... man bits? Which by the way ... I DID NOT WANT TO SEE. Ever. Times a trillion. Ugh. I have to go wash my eyes out with bleach now.

Ve are goink to pump - you up!

Earlier this week I was sitting in the sauna and these two women were in there having what seemed to be a fairly private conversation and I swear, I wasn't eavesdropping - that implies I was listening on the sly, which I totally wasn't! We were in the SAME ROOM so it was kinda hard NOT to listen. Anyway, one of them was talking about her third husband - and when asked by her friend why she doesn't kick him out, because from what I could ascertain, he is a Dickweed, her friend says because he scares her. This leads to a conversation about her second husband, who was apparently also a Dickweed, but with the added bonus of Alcoholism thrown in. Seems that Dickweed Number 2 broke her jaw, threw her down some stairs and he couldn't perform in the bedroom. Yes, all of those things were said in the same sentence: Broke her jaw. Threw her down the stairs. Couldn't get it up. WTF? And she actually said "sex issue" in a whisper - which I don't know why she bothered really because I'd already been privy to entirely TOO MUCH INFORMATION. And it was about to get worse. Seems that since Dickweed Number Two could no longer make things work downthere  he had one of those pumps put in. And this is where I try not to giggle, because I really don't want them to realize I'm sitting there and stop talking because now I am completely invested in their conversation and I think maybe I really am just invisible OR they actually don't think I CAN HEAR THEM.  She goes on to say that one time, after the pump was put in, she had to take him to the hospital because it malfunctioned and would not ... uh ... deflate? I don't even know. [And I'm not going to Google that shit because I do not need the image of a pump for that inside my head. Like, ever.]  And that's when I left, because seriously - what more do I really need to know?

Wishing Death On People Is Bad Karma, Yes?

I hate it when I'm working out and a fan is blowing directly on me. I WANT to sweat. I WANT to get hot. That's why I'm THERE. So having cold air blow on me drives me batshit crazy. So there's this woman who's started working out in the same area I do in the mornings and she takes the fan and points it at herself, full fucking blast, and as a consequence, it blows directly on me, and the first couple of times this happened I just hit stop on the machine and found somewhere else to work out, because seriously, the cold air blowing on me is an issue. But if this trend continues I'm going to take that fan and shove it up her ass because I find the fact that she has no regard for the other people working out in that area rude as fucking hell. I haven't said anything to her yet, I just think hateful thoughts and wish death on her. Oops. That's wrong. But true. I also give her dirty looks behind her back. Because I am VERY MATURE.

(Also bugging me? The commercial for a movie called The Lake House.  I like Sandra Bullock but ... no. This movie looks dumb. I've watched the commercial at least 421 times and I still have no idea what the hell its supposed to be about, nor do I care. Plus, the way she says "it's amazing"? Bugs. The. Shit. Out. Of. Me.)