Do you ever find your head simultaneously filled with so MUCH and yet so LITTLE that you can't possibly formulate a truly coherent blog post? I'm sure you do. Anyway, that's me today.
I had a pretty busy weekend--doing the last couple of local performances of my play before we go to Louisiana for competition this weekend, cleaning the house, doing Easter, attending a gathering of the "drink and bitch" club I was invited to join a while back. And you'd think all that would have left me ready to get some quality sleep when at last I lay me down to do so, but you'd be wrong. I've been sleeping terribly.
Part of that I will blame on the fact that I took sinus medicine right before bedtime one night, and it seemed to make me a bit restless. Lots of tossing and turning. Part of that I will blame on the fact that I actually watched a bit of "The Girls Next Door" right before bedtime one night, and the "girls" in question made a brief (and basically unmemorable) appearance in my dreams. I don't watch this show regularly, and when occasionally I happen past it and there's nothing better on, forcing me to watch for at least a few minutes, I remember why. It disturbs me, a little. I find it both a bit creepy and a bit sad.
Is it just me? Do people love this show? I guess we're supposed to be jealous, right? The men of Hef, with his bevy of blonde Barbies; the women of the girls and their supposedly lavish lifestyle. That's the point, isn't it? But I'm not the slightest bit jealous, personally. It seems so obvious that, with the possible exception of Hef and Holly, who do seem to have some feelings for each other, these are "relationships" made for the camera. The girls seem completely interchangeable with all the other groups of young "girlfriends" Hef has had in recent years. And it's not the age difference itself that bothers me, really...it's that it's starting to seem pathetic that he seems to so strongly feel the need to impress us with his virility. Okay, we get it...you're 81 and can still get the girls. You're rich. You're Hugh Hefner, you've undoubtedly got a plentiful supply of Viagra--of COURSE you can get the girls. And the girls, of course, with the possible exception of Holly, are undoubtedly in it for a boost to their "careers." And why should any of this bother me? They're all adults, and I'm certainly in no position to judge anyone's life choices. Maybe it's just that the balance of power seems nonexistent. Hef has it all. He calls all the shots. Unlike other May-December (or February-December, more like) relationships, the girls don't seem to have any...leverage. Anna Nicole, for example, seemed to some extent to have old Howard wrapped around her little finger. Not enough to actually mention her in his will, of course, but enough that the infatuated old coot gave her millions of dollars in gifts and apparently salivated like a besotted old dog any time he was around her. Catherine Zeta-Jones seems a pretty powerful partner in her relationship with Michael Douglas.
I know what it is that bothers me. It's the bedrooms. That's why I'm not jealous. Yes, they "live" in a fabulous mansion, but the only part of it they really, truly inhabit is...their bedrooms. Those pink, fluffy, perfect for a 10-year-old princess bedrooms. Shudder. It seems unsavory...living in a little girl's room except for those times you're getting it on with an 81-year-old man who doesn't truly give a fig about you. Oh well...to each their own, I suppose! And again...who am I to judge? I sleep with an 86-pound dog. (But he lurves me.) Hee.
Part of the reason I'm not sleeping well is that my mind is racing in a million different directions, trying to make sure I'm not forgetting to take care of anything before I leave town on Thursday. I'm only going to be gone for 4 days, for pete's sake, but the budding old lady in me is quite sure I'm going to forget to take care of something very important, while at the exact same time the procrastinator in me is waiting until the very last moment to actually DO things. I did manage to check a couple of things off my to-do list today, though. And I can always sleep in the van on the way there, right? (I'm not driving. If I was, sleeping in the van would be very, very bad.) I'm not nervous about the competition itself, at all. Just busy trying to tie up loose ends at work (yes, it's only two days, but there are things I do that nobody else here does) and making sure my household full of kitties will continue to function smoothly in my absence. Gah. Why did I take in all these cats again? Oh yeah, because nobody else would. Sigh. And, oh yeah, I love them. :)
Speaking of kitties, I'm sure you're all pining for a Dolly/McBeady update. Their love affair continues, growing even stronger since she's been spayed, actually. Okay, that may also have something to do with the fact that McBeady, it seems, LOVES to eat food he's not required to catch. So he's been around a LOT. (But they do act very affectionately towards each other. It's cute.) One day when I was home for lunch, he saw me from a couple of backyards away and came running--hoping for a midday snack, I assumed. Nope. He just wanted some lovin' and chin scratching. Awww. Isn't that sweet? He's still a scruffy fellow, but he's looking better. His eyes are clear and his coat is shinier. He looks like a wrestler, actually--he's got those tomcat jowls and he's getting fat rolls around his already sizeable neck. Dolly, of course, remains the beauty she's always been.
Okay, enough drivel. Things to do, people to see. (Or is it people to do, things to see? Hee.) If I don't find time to post tomorrow, I won't be here again until I'm back from my trip. Wish us luck!