Happy Halloween!!



I hope everyone has a fun and safe Halloween! I can't wait to see all the little ones in their costumes! And I can't wait to eat left over candy.

I'm Good Here Thanks...

My mother is spending 4 days with my brother and his family. She has only been there for 2 hours and they have already been in 3 fights. My mother got ill on the train and my brothers kids have the flu. She has called me 5 times to report on the ill health of everyone in his house. And they wondered why I chose to stay home and work.

Yeah, I cried about a sex doll. And I wasn't the only one....

Go see Lars and the Real Girl and if you don't cry too, then you're a heartless bastard. Or you have faulty tear ducts. If the latter is the case see a doctor. Then go see the movie.

Getting Through Halloween With Your Brains Intact


Check out this funny link for surviving a Zombie attack. Thanks Stanley for sending it to me. Having a Zombie free Halloween is always a goal of mine.

Food Rules...

I don't have many food rules in life. Don't eat mayo casserole (or mayo pb and j, or any large quantity of mayo). Don't eat eggs that are undercooked. No cooked carrots, cauliflower or raisins ever. And lastly, (and this is the life saver) never eat sushi or salad at Chinese Buffet.

On Tuesday I tried to break the sushi rule and have a piece while eating Chinese Buffet. I really wanted it but 2 things kept the experience from being enjoyable. First is that I was having a late dinner and it hit me that I never saw any food being replaced or even taken away due to being out too long. Which made me wonder how long my roll had been out (I guessed about 14 hours). The second thing was that my piece was covered in Roe. Normally this gives me a slight twinge (because Roe falls under my under cooked eggs category). As I went to take a bite a clip from "Finding Nemo" enters my brain. I was done. The thought of eating Nemo ruined my Sushi experience, and all I could do was seek solace in the almond cookies and weird sugar covered peanuts (which tasted like peanuts, but did not have the texture of a peanut).

Last night I decided to once again brave sushi. There is a place right up the street from work that is a sushi bar, so I braved it with a co-worker. What we didn't know at the time was that it was a fast food Japanese restaurant who offered drive-thru sushi. Weird. The food was not half bad, but again I could not eat the Roe. Looks like I have another food rule. I really hope this doesn't generalize and I start to see Rocky when I eat chicken or Otis when I have a hamburger.

Why NASA Will Never Be In My Future, And Why Gatorade May Also Be Out...

As a kid, I thought astronauts were the cool. I mean really, they get a sweet suit and helmet, and the chance to float in a space ship. Even though they seemed cool I never wanted to be one (not even a little bit), due to several intense fears I associated with space travel. One fear was that the cable would break as I was trying to fix something outside the craft and I would die floating slowly away. Given my very limited abilities to fix anything it is very unlikely I would have been named head fixer-upper. But if in some parallel universe I managed to become a space gal, then it only makes sense that they would call on me to grab my hot pink wrench and fix the shuttle.

I am also not totally convinced that I won't just float off the moon either (I don't care how "powerful" the moon boots are reported to be). Lastly, (and most important in my book) I had fears about the bathroom situation in space-- you know it can't be too private or even slightly dignified (a goal in life has always been to put off wearing adult diapers for as long as possible, but that's just me). I now have one more reason never to sign up for NASA.

On Friday the early morning news program in my area reported a story in which NASA is coming up with plan to turn urine into drinking water (either plain or Gatorade flavored). While the thought of floating aimlessly in space is scary, having to drink my own pee to survive is just as yucky (even if does taste like punch flavored Gatorade). You know an even crappier (pun intended) job is the person who is the taste tester for the initial trial runs in the purification system.

“I consider looseness with words no less of a defect than looseness of the bowels”—John Calvin

At work I try really hard to be circumspect and respectful of others. For all my talking or long winded blogging I am even fairly quiet at work (or I try to be).

I work in a large organization and there are many people here I know in passing only. Which makes it even more embarrassing when I have word diarrhea of my own. Mine comes in the form of inappropriate jokes to people I hardly know (I wouldn't call it harassment, but I can't wait for my friend to finish law school so I can retain her services). Yesterday, I was speaking to someone in passing about a luncheon I attended a few days ago. Apparently, at the luncheon I was seated next to a retired gynecologist, and the lady with whom I was speaking mentioned he was her OBGYN for many years. She then said it felt like he didn't remember her. To which I said, "I would imagine that in his business it's not the faces he focused on, but he might remember the vagina's."

Call Me Irresponsible

You wouldn't be alone. This is what I was called today at work by my boss's boss. All because I didn't respond to email she sent me either today or last week. To be fair, when I spoke to her today her exact words (after I said I had been locked out of the email system for the past week) were, "(polite laughter) Oh and I was thinking you were just irresponsible." Okay so that actually doesn't sound any better. I too gave a polite laugh and assured her that as soon as I was able to I would be responsive to all email requests. When I hung up the phone I was in shock for a second. Am I getting the rep as the irresponsible one? And for something that is totally out of my control. I mean I know I won't get the rep for being the mouth (after all I do work with McGee), and she will also win for most empathetic and passionate about her work. But I thought I would be in the running for helpful or considerate.

The truly messed up aspect of this is that I can't even tell the IT person myself that my email is screwed because he is only available by email. I can't tell you how many times today I tried to tell people about my email woes and their response was, "well just send support an email." McGee herself many times today tried to have me check my email to confirm different things. When the IT came today to work on different issues, he was not directed to my area (even though I spoke with the person in charge of directing the IT guy twice in the morning). By the afternoon I called her again only to be told that she forgot I needed a computer tech because she forgot I had a cubicle (disregarding the fact I can't get in the system).

I felt like today was like a weird episode of "the Office." I ate lunch at my desk so I could spend my lunch half-hour walking to clear my head. Unfortunately this plan sucked on several levels. First, I missed a noon meeting (which I thought had been moved to 10am-I guess you can call me unreliable. Throw in undependable too). Second my quick lunch was a light meal of eggplant parm and noodles. Which made my peaceful walk more of a Michael Scott fun run moment. Luckily, there was no puke involved in my exercise. Or nipple chafing.

When I was talking to Carl his advice was that tomorrow had to be better, if for no other reason than it would not be Monday. Here's hoping. I also had to laugh as I relayed a comment McGee made to me when she came into my area to talk about all the talking going on in her area. She said, "I just don't like to talk in the office area." A major lie and I am surprised she wasn't hit with lightening or smote as she stood. I think she was just mad that everyone in her area was talking about Britney Spears, and not their cats or crazy neighbors (which are her hot topics). Here's to whatever the rest of the week brings my way.

The Latest Scoop About My Co-Workers

I had a weird smell day and I finally figured it out. A co-worker smelled like cat litter. Before I narrowed it down to her I was wondering if there was an office pet no one told me about.

Thoughts On Dusty Eggs and Still Having It
This weekend I became 1 year closer to turning 30. Looking back on the past year I have a lot to be happy about. This was the year I graduated and got a job with grown up benefits. I have not had a lot of negative thoughts on turning 30. I know this can be a hard year for some people, but for me 26 was a hard year. As a child that was the year I imagined myself married and with a child of my own (or more than one). I imagine 30 as more of a year I will do something incredible. Like have my ovaries crumble into a pile of dust. Let me 'splain...

Every year I have dinner with my friends. This is a celebration I treasure. Usually. This year brought a little something special. I have a friend who suffers from diarrhea of the mouth (let's call her McGee). It's an unfortunate disease but she is able to keep it under control most of the time. She is older than myself, and struggles with the expectations from her younger years. During dinner someone asked me if I was nervous about the upcoming 30th. I asked if I should be (trying to be funny and keep it light). That's when McGee broke in and said that most women are terrified about turning 30 because that's when they know they've lost all the good child bearing years. She then went into detail about how old and decrepit my eggs would become in 363 days (as she was talking I swear my eggs shriveled a little in horror of their impending doom). She then asked if I ever thought about donating or freezing my eggs. At least if I donated them, she said, I would get some cash. I looked around at my friends (who seemed strangely silent to me--which is a side effect of her disease) and stated that everyone was welcome to join me at the egg clinic (if such a thing exists) for my 30th. We could have a picnic as I unload my damaged goods.

Needless to say this got me thinking. Am I becoming old and decrepit before my time? Am I dusty? But at dinner the next night I found out I still had it.* As I was trying to find a table to have dinner with my father, I told the waitress I could sit anywhere. "Anywhere you say? This girl (yes he called me a girl-hee hee) is going to sit right here (pointing to the space between himself and another man)." Sure the man was 65 if he was a day, but hey, that's my flirting demographic. I laughed and told the gentleman to have a nice evening. Happy to be 29. Because the 28 year old would not have attracted a man who could afford to eat at a restaurant (my previous flirters were also homeless). I think this will be a great year. I say bring it 30, My eggs are prepared to dust themselves off and dance a jig. Or even a cool dance like the running man.


*I lost it two days later when someone at work asked when I was expecting my first child. But it was sweet while it lasted.

If you are a happy employee does that make you 'gruntled'?- Jack Handey

Here are the highlights from my first week at my new job:

*My office is only 4.5 minutes away from my home. Since 2001 I have had job with crazy long commutes, so I am loving this. Even being so close I have been 5 minutes late twice (okay today was closer to 10). In my defense I was dreaming it was Saturday and shut off the alarm.

*On day 2 coffee was spilled on my appointment book, so I threw it away. 3 hours later I had to dig in the trash because I realized I left something important in it. I found my book covered in coffee grounds and something wet.

*On day 3 I got the chance to clean a toilet (yeah it was an honor). This site has one bathroom for clients and staff to share. I went in to find that the person before me either, had no ability to aim at the toilet (but they did a good job spraying the walls, floors, and seat of the toilet), or they were just pissed, and well, pissed all over the place.

*I still find it strange to be referred to as "Dr." When I had to leave a message for voice mail it took a couple of times because I wanted to sound professional (as in not laugh) as I said, "You have reached Dr. Lorelai."

*Everyone is really nice. I was given a balloon yesterday to mark my my first week of work. This organization has been the place I wanted to work for a long time, so I have been really excited about this job. Although compared to another newbie, who fairly gushes with enthusiasm and joy, I look like Steven Wright. But inside I am happy.

*My new boss is actually my friend, Stanley. I went out to dinner with him and other friends twice last week and both times I joked about what a beast my new boss was. I know one day this joke will get old, but it is still cracking me up.

Well, that's my week so far. As of yet I haven't sounded too idiotic or asshole-ish. But tomorrow is another day.

In Other News

My new job starts tomorrow. I am nervous to say the least. Wish me luck. My prayer is that I don't sound like an asshole or an idiot (both of which are highly likely as they tend to be my reactions to being nervous). I am also praying I don't trip and fall (which is also highly likely).

I Survived (But I Did Have A Drink The Night I Came Home)...,

My weekend with my mom went better than I expected. I wouldn't call it the best of my life, but I got through it and had fun. To be totally honest it was an eye opening weekend for me. The things I was expecting (like for her to become totally stuck in the past or have severe hallucinations) did not happen. Instead it was like we switched roles. I felt like it was my job to watch out for her and be the grownup.

Some highlights included:

*My mother stopping on the street or any other public place to count the money in her wallet. She would actually pull the money out to do this. How we weren't mugged is beyond me.

*She would also become best friends with total strangers and would proceed to tell them her political/religious/food/cigarette preferences. Then she would try and draw me into the conversation. I am a fairly stranger=danger type person so I would simply smile and walk a few feet away until she was done.

*She burped at me about every 10 minutes. Mostly when we were in the car or in the hotel room, but in public too. The night she ate lobster and crab I almost pulled a Linda Blair. It was like being around my brother when he was 12 (minus the spit wads he would throw at me).

*On our last day she walked in to an antique shop and proceeded to break a lamp worth about a grand. She had a panic attack, but the owner said she wasn't responsible for damages (the lamp has been previously broken and repaired). My mom then told the owner she would buy something (but since she didn't have enough money I got to buy a small perfume bottle for 100.00. Which was a total rip off in my book, but I don't know bottles). In a way this was karma biting me in the ass because the day before I was holding on to a necklace for my mom and it slipped out of my purse somehow (and yes it cost around 100.00).

*Our hotel room was something out of a scary movie (thanks Orbitz). There was mold all over the ceiling in the bathroom. The door to our room looked like someone tried to claw their way out. and the bedroom area smelled like pine sol and funk. I imagine the person who stayed before us died, and the maid thought pine sol would cover the smell of death.

*She has also become really prejudiced towards others. I never noticed this before but when she saw someone she didn't like (Hispanic, Black, old people, Harley riders, teenagers) she would make a mean comment. Out loud. And the people were usually about a foot away from her every time. A little awkward. In my mind she was the female Archie Bunker. Surprisingly, she was okay with a lesbian couple she saw. She told me she thought it was neat that they could be open. At least she likes someone.

*I realized how tense I am when I am around her. Don't get me wrong, I think it is understandable to a point (especially since I never know what her reaction is to any given situation), but I don't want to spend the rest of my life being reserved and tense. Especially since mom spent most of the weekend talking about how I would eventually be like her and my g-ma (which translated to angry and bitter in her mind). When she would say such things I would pull a Whitney Houston in my head ("Oh Hell To The No!").

While we were going home she seemed to revert back to her hallucinations. It was painful when she spent a great deal of time talking to me about the cars that are following her and the people who harass her. I tried to get her to seek a new psychiatrist, but she told me she can't take those meds and she doesn't need them anyway (because she is not hallucinating). Until she gets so bad she needs to be hospitalized it is out of my hands, so I turned up my music a little louder and tried to think of other things.

After I dropped her at her house I went to the store and bought booze. I had a drink to celebrate getting through the weekend relatively unscathed. I then went out to dinner with friends.

Fasten Your Seat Belts, It's Going To Be A Bumpy Ride

Tomorrow morning I will be taking my mother to the coast for 2.5 days. Pray for me, or think good/peaceful thoughts. I am somewhat apprehensive about being in a car for 3 hours with a woman whose major hallucination is that people are following her in cars. This should be great. She called me today to tell me that "they" (the people following her in cars) have been quiet today. Hopefully they'll stay home this weekend. Yesterday when I found out for sure we were going I called a friend of mine because I knew he would understand the apprehension, hope, and guilt that goes along with having a parent who suffers from psychosis.

I have spent this entire week alone and I think it was because of what I will face this weekend (mentally gearing up so to speak). I hope she is in a good mood. I pray that I will have patience for when she's not. I also hope this weekend is something I can look back on with fondness. I have realized in the last few weeks (especially after my g-pa's death) that we have not had many fond mother/daughter moments. More than anything I hope this is a good weekend for her. That even for a couple of days her hallucinations take a break and that she can be happy.

I am sure I will have lots to blog about on Sunday. Or I will drinking too heavily to blog. At this point it could go either way.

Stories About Other People's Children And Trying To Save The World In Three Hours

Today Supermommy's little boy started preschool, and I am so excited for him. I remember how much fun I had in preschool, and I hope it is a positive experience for him. Last night I had dinner with Supermommy and her children and after dinner her boy decided he was Superman. He used a napkin as a cape and "flew" with joy all around. He then saw a man wearing a Superman shirt and about fell over. After dinner Supermommy walked up to the gentleman and said "Hi Superman." Her little boy was in awe over meeting his hero. Supermommy called him Super burrito (because we were in a Mexican restaurant) but he said, "No mommy burritos can't fly." He held my hand as we crossed parking lots for an evening walk all the while telling me about his super powers. One day he will be older and becoming Superman using only a napkin will give way to hanging with friends and playing sports. I hope his imagination always allows him to see wonder in the world.

Earlier in the week Supermommy talked to him about preschool and the chance to make new friends. He said he didn't need new friends because he already had some. Two of his friends are characters on the PBS show Caillou. He's more interested in playing on the playground. I hope he had a great first day, spent lots of time on the playground and met cool kids.

As we were walking off dinner last night I teased Supermommy about all the free time she will now have (all 3 hours twice a week). She joked about trying to save the world in three hours and it got me thinking. So here's my list of all the things she might be able to do with on one child in the house:

Read a book during nap time (which is of course my favorite thing to do)
Take a nap (which would be my next favorite thing to do)
Grocery shop with only one child (I still don't know how moms shop with kids)
Go for coffee (preferrably with me)
Attend a Gymboree class with the baby
Talk to other adults
Yoga (they have mommy and me yoga dvds)
Take a walk
Paint your nails (might be hard with a puppy and a baby in the house)

Feel free to add more. Lastly, I think first days of school are important to the parents too, so I hope Ponch and Supermommy had a good first day as well (and met lots of cool parents).

Thoughts On The Funeral

The minister's name was Hymen Wood. I smirked through out the funeral about this. He never met my g-pa and all he did was read the obit and then open it up to family and friends to speak out. Two days ago my mother, aunt, and cousin spent several hours with him telling stories of my g-pa, and he never mentioned one of their stories.

At the end of the end of the service he concluded by basically saying my g-pa was going to hell, as were all others who didn't believe exactly what he believed (which was the entire congregation minus one uncle who attends his church). I now think of him as as a worse name than Hymen Wood (which took some thinking because his parents punished him pretty good with that one).

During the service I kept looking at pictures of my grandfather still in shock that he is no longer around. I don't know when I will wrap my mind around this loss in my life.

Three friends came to support me and it pretty much made my day. The also got to witness the fam up close and personal. This may have killed any supportive feelings they might have in the future.

My mother's eulogy included a detailed account of how she told g-pa to walk to the light as he died. I get why she would do this, and had it been my own father, who's to say if I wouldn't have done the same. Nonetheless, I still get the image in my head of the creepy people in Poltergeist.

She also talked about how close my family is to my g-pa's girlfriend's family (two families becoming one was her term). This lasted until the reception when she began referring to the g-friend as "that bitch." "That bitch" was sitting about 6 seats down from her while the rant took place. Awkward.

Also during the eulogy she went on and on about how my uncle was now going to take care of everyone (aka her). As I prepare to begin my new job I have been making lists in my head of things I want to save for (house/adoption/new mattress). As she spoke I realized I need to start a savings account for her needs too. Luckily though there was no spontaneous singing from anyone (especially her) during the service.

Several people said lovely things about g-pa, and minus being told I was going to hell for believing in evolution (and space travel--what the hell kind of a minister was he??) it was a nice memorial.

During the reception, the soup course to be exact (tomato soup no less), my mother went into great detail about my grandfather's bodily functions and how this was how they knew the cancer was back. It will be along time before I eat tomato soup. A very long time. I was really glad to be sitting next to my friends. Because all I had to do was look at them and know that I wasn't the only one done with the first course. The rest of the meal I actively worked to block her out (at least until I was finished eating).

Goodbye Grandpa

I got the phone call today that my grandfather passed away. It is a blessing because as bad as I thought he was on Wednesday, his health steadily declined, and yesterday he slipped into a coma. Thankfully he died in his sleep (to the sounds of my mother telling him to walk to the light no less). When I heard this I had a picture my mother like the creepy old lady in Poltergeist.

Everyone is now preparing for the funeral. Apparently God either answered my prayers or He reads my blog because my mother decided not to perform Karaoke at the funeral. She will still be giving a eulogy, so my prayers are now that this is okay.

I am sure as days progress I will have a lot to blog about. Someday soon I hope to blog about my Sunday night. I went out with my dad for a couple of hours during his harvest. It was totally take your daughter to work night (and I learned that his champagne grapes are used to make Brandy which was cool). I am going to bed now to prepare for whatever tomorrow brings.

Jokes About Dying...

Yesterday I spent an hour with my grandfather. His health is deteriorating rapidly, and I know there isn't much time. This summer I feel like I have spent the majority of it trying to make my mom feel better, and I have not had a chance to process what his death will mean for me. Yesterday I got my first real taste of it.

My grandpa always seemed larger than life to me. It isn't that he is the biggest man alive, but he had a big presence. And he seemed indestructible. I remember once he wanted to drive me to college, because he couldn't really believe it was a 10 hour drive (it was I assure you-12 hours if you traveled with my dad). My g-pa and I made it in 7. I have never been so sure I was going to die in my life. He just kept laughing and saying this drive was nothing. He may have also been drunk (which he was often), but still.

We were close when I was younger, but grew distant when he and my g-ma split up. It wasn't until I was older that I realized most of the anger I carried towards him came from my mom's own feelings of rejection. It's funny the emotional baggage you carry for your parents when you are a child. I wrote him a letter when I graduated high school apologizing for my distance, but by then I was off to college and then graduate school. I will admit I hid behind the distance between us (telling myself I didn't want to be around a drunk driver to make it better). It just felt easier to keep things status quo. Now I wish I had been more accessible to him. The thing is, he never had a bad thing to say about me or my mom. He has loved us the same as ever. Someday I hope my mom sees that.

When I walked in yesterday and saw him in the hospice bed it really hit me. He looks like someone that is dying. He was also not wearing pants, and that was disturbing too (sorry if it is disrespectful but it freaked me out). We sat and talked for about 30 minutes before he fell asleep. I was not sure what the protocol is for this situation. Should I talk about how much I love him, and tell him thanks for being my g-pa? I chose to let him lead the conversation. And the jokes began. His g-friend came in and said she was going to by lotto tickets. He said something about winning the lotto and dying in the same week. To which I replied, "But it would be a hell of a funeral." Then I had a moment of panic. Did I just crack a joke about his funeral to him?!? Then he laughed and it was on. We spent about 10 minutes trying to outdo the each other with inappropriate death jokes. He won (I think he had an unfair advantage though--he has thought longer about his impending death than I have).

We also talked about my mom and his worries about her. There was nothing I could think of to reassure him, so I kept quiet.

When he fell asleep I left the room so I wouldn't disturb him and I sat awkwardly in his living room. I wasn't sure what to think so I tried to keep my mind blank of death and dying. This might have worked if the T.V. wasn't on CNN and the coverage wasn't all about people dead or dying from the recent floods. I focused instead on the family pictures scattered about, realizing how little I have known about my grandfather's life in the last 18 years. I also found out there is a hole in the floor in the living room.

His home health nurse came in and I left. As I kissed him goodbye he introduced my as his granddaughter first then he said my granddaughter, Dr. Lorelai. When the nurse heard this she looked up and said, "Oh a doctor! How do you do." and then shook my hand. Superficial Bitch. I told my g-pa I would be back in a couple of days. The nurse stopped me and said. "But aren't you a doctor? Don't you want to watch his catheter change?" WTF?!? A) Even if I was a medical doctor, there is no way in hell I would get near my g-pa's catheter region (I am making a circular hand motion in my own catheter region). It was bad enough he wasn't wearing pants, and I could see his underwear (and catheter drip line). B) I am not a medical doctor.

I laughingly explained, "I am not a medical doctor but a psychologist, so no I wouldn't stay in the room for any procedures, but if you had a big feeling about changing the catheter we could talk." All she said was, "Oh, you're not a medical doctor (with a sneer). Why would I have a big feeling about a catheter (said with another sneer)?" I said, "well you'd be amazed at how fast big feelings can come up." Like making jokes about death with your dying grandfather.

Check Out These Funny Baby Clothes. Seriously. They Make Me Want to Get Pregnant Just To Put Them On My Registry

I am digging these baby and toddler clothes. My favorites are:
I totally picture Supermommy's kids in this.

And...
Again this reminds me of Supermommy's boy, especially as he is about to begin preschool.

I spent about 30 minutes at this site yesterday, picking out clothes for all the wee ones I know. I also spent time imagining my beautiful pretend babies looking fab (as all my pretend babies do) as we hang with my pretend husband, James McAvoy (possibly having a pint somewhere in in the UK or Ireland.) I have nothing if not an active imagination.

The best part of my desktop shopping is that I found out you can get a free shirt for reviewing the site. As if that wasn't enough, the owner checked out my site and wasn't afraid of the lack of comments on my posts (especially since I told her that most of my readers just call me or send me an email after reading). She also said I was funnym which means she's totally become my new bff. So please check this site out because it comes from my bff (who just happens to make cool clothes).

"If the president is so serious about the war on terror, why doesn't he hunt down and capture Barack Obama before he strikes again?"-Jenna, 30 Rock

I went with Supermommy to the party on Saturday, and there's no easy way to say this, but she is an awful date. I mean I get she has 2 kids under the age of 4, but she also came with someone. All I am saying is that would have been nice if she had remembered that fact before she was home (and wondering about the car parked in her driveway). Luckily, it gave me a chance to talk politics with my dad and his gf on the ride back to my car. During the car ride we discussed universal health care and Hilary. I think we were both happy to reach my car and say goodbye.

We had already spoke of the upcoming elections earlier at the party when my dad announced he was pretty sure he was voting for Osama. That shocker made me spit my drink out so I could ask, "Don't you mean Obama?" Then he gave me the whatever look. He whatevered saying Osama instead of Obama. God help us all come election time.

I also overheard the b-day girl comment on the dessert choices. There are times when I want to be ignorant, and having my aunt compare her ice-cream to the big-O means I find my happy place. It was good ice-cream though (home made cookies and cream and the maker was generous with the oreos).

And last but not least I wore a new shirt to the party. I liked the color but thought it might make me look preggo (because it was was high waisted and loose, and I really have no waist). I will be damned if someone didn't keep looking at my stomach as we talked. And he kept asking how I was doing (as he looked at my stomach). Yeah, like I was going to freaking announce I was 9 months pregnant and oops my water broke. I wanted to be a bitch and maybe start sobbing about the horrors of facing impending single motherhood (and could he be so kind as to take me to the hospital and be my coach). Instead I walked away swearing to take the damn shirt back. Macy's might have taken it back too, if in the next instant I hadn't spilled a scoop of ranch dip on it. In trying to clean it off I just managed to spread the stain across my chest- then it just looked like I was pregnant and leaking. Swell. Now I will just look pregnant at my new job (because even though it is unflattering I won't waste the money). I like starting gossip my first week of work anyhow.

Unrelated to the party, a friend of mine (who is only 2 months older than my spry 28 years) called me Friday to tell me she is dating a 61 year old man, and she really likes him. As in he makes her heart happy, and when she is with him the age difference disappears. I have a tendency to get over-involved in my friends lives and I worry too much. So I made a vow a few months ago to just go with the flow and accept. When she told me this I just asked her to take a picture of him (so I could stop the image of her dating Santa or my dying grandpa). I have also had nightmares the last couple of nights in which I am being stalked by old homeless men (who have always been attracted to me), and I have to find a (young) strong protector. I don't need Freud to tell me that this latest news is freaking the hell out of me. But it is her life and I will try to work through my freak-out. It helps that I have a strong happy place (full of cookies and cream ice-cream).