I'm dreaming of a brown Christmas...

Seriously. This is not a part of the country where we often get snow on Christmas. (We're more likely to get ice, actually.) So, it's not exactly a cherished, long-standing tradition. So, why, why, WHY do perfectly rational adults get all misty-eyed and dreamy about the thought of a "white Christmas"?

Here's what a white Christmas in this part of the country actually entails: people getting stranded in airports trying to get to their loved ones, people getting stranded on roadways trying to get to their loved ones (and worst case scenario, dying in accidents on those roadways), people giving up and staying home instead of trying to be with their loved ones, Christmas Eve church services cancelled--and all for a little bit of white stuff on the ground for a day or two? It never sticks around long here, and it's supposed to be be sunny again over the weekend, so...why is this something to long for, again?

It just strikes me as immensely selfish to WISH for that, just because YOU'RE tucked securely inside with YOUR loved ones. What about the rest of us? You want "White Christmas," watch a movie!

Grrrr...

Look what I got!

Whoo hoo!

I took part in Stinky Paws' "International Santa Paws" gift exchange, in which we each agreed to send something hand- or home-made to another blogger. I sent my package off to my assigned recipient earlier this week, and today I got my own.

Looky, looky! As you can see, it is beautiful and completely appropriate, given my standing as the (self-proclaimed) Queen of Accessories. It is layered dichroic glass with sterling silver, and I love, love, love it. Thanks, mystery blogger! (Though, actually, I can pretty much tell from the return address--as could my recipient. Hee.)

And a super big thank-you to Stinky Paws for arranging everything--what fun!




So, what else has been going on? Not just a whole heck of a lot, clearly, as you can tell from my dismal posting record of late. Still seeing Hot Med, who's still having the occasional lapse into jerkdom. I've pretty much figured out how to deal with said lapses and snap him out of it, though. I just treat him like a petulant adolescent, and refuse to let him get me upset.


And so it goes. For now, the good still outweighs the bad. It's really hard to stay mad at someone who says, "ooh...beautiful today" EVERY time he sees you, you know?


Once the holidays and their attendant madness pass, I promise to get back to posting more regularly. It will be my New Year's Resolution. It's either that, or get back to exercising more regularly...gee, wonder which one is more likely to come to pass? Heh.

Why can't all weekends be like that?

By which I mean: four days long and packed with fun.

Thursday I went for the usual Thanksgiving meal with my family. I did take Hot Med with me, which went fine. He accidentally left the gate to the highway (my sister lives on a farm) unlatched, but fortunately realized his error and was able to convey it to me in time for us to corral the dogs (me) and sprint to the gate (him) before any damage was done. Whew. That could have been ugly. Other than that...we ate a lot of food. He ate pretty much everything offered him, and then reclined his seat back and slept most of the hour drive home. Typical American Thanksgiving.

Friday I had plans to meet up with some of my college friends who I last saw when we had a mini "reunion" over the summer. (No Hot Med this time--he had to work.) With kids in tow, we spent several afternoon hours roaming the zoo in some seriously beautiful weather, then had an early dinner at my favorite pizza place. (Note: be prepared, if you ever go to a zoo with someone who WORKS at a zoo. V: "Enjoy that cheetah now--they'll all be gone in about ten years--the gene pool's gotten too limited." Me: "Hey--he's right there. He can HEAR you!" Hee.)

Then the kids were parked at grandma and grandpa's with dad, and the girls went out for an evening of karaoke at a smoke-filled dive bar I'd never been to. We didn't plan to stay long, but...plans sometimes change.

We had ourselves quite a time. There was beer drinking, tequila shots (I wisely abstained from those), some good singing, some bad singing that was nonetheless exceedingly entertaining, some bad singing that was, well...just bad, some of it done by a man I dubbed the Casey Kasem of Karaoke. After each song that he butchered, he had to stand there, mike in hand, and tell us the sad tale behind his choice of that song. Serious downers--dead grandparent, crib death--"and that's why I had to sing this song...to dedicate to her." Come on, dude--my sympathies for your loss(es), but...wrong time, wrong place. We're all here to have fun, and there is NO appropriate way to respond to that. You can't clap, you feel obligated to stop your laughter for a moment and you end up just casting your eyes down, hoping he'll be done soon. And then you start up your raucous good time again, and, according to one of my friends, his wife turns around and stares at your table and mutters something about the need to "kick some ass." Fortunately, she restrained herself, and anyway, I think we could have taken her. The rest of the bar loved us--cheering, asking us to sing backup for them...and one decent-looking guy even hit on me. Not that I was looking to be hit on, mind you...but still. Good times, baby...good times.

Saturday morning I did my usual housecleaning, albeit in an at-most-quarter-assed fashion, had lunch with Hot Med, and then went home and crashed on the couch.

Sunday morning, went to church, grabbed a yummy bagel for lunch, and made plans to pick up Hot Med that evening to accompany me to a friend's birthday party. (Happy birthday, George!) Which took place at my favorite Indian restaurant, and involved selecting, adorning, addressing and sending out postcards, as George feels strongly that the world has gone too far in the direction of cybermail. Snail mail all around! Plus aloo gobi, garlic naan and a smidgen of the restaurant's version of birthday cake, which involved the particular Indian delicacy known to most as Gulab Jamun, but which will always be "scrotum balls" to me, thanks to my old friend Nora. (In all fairness...that IS what they look like.) (And now I can look forward to some interesting google searches, can't I?)

I finished off the weekend by watching the Hallmark Hall of Fame movie about the dog. Don't you just love a good Hallmark Hall of Fame movie and its attendant sappy commercials? I do.

I hope you all had equally wonderful weekends. Now...back to the old grind. Argh.

And stuff like that and stuff

I used to have a boss who'd say that. He'd end a sentence with it. "Blah blah blah, and stuff like that, and stuff."

Because I know you're just dying for an update on my life (hee), I'll do some quick bullets.

• Hot Med is still working nights. 5:00 every night this week, PLUS 10-2 on Sunday. That's seven days in a row. His words: "My boss CRAZY." He says he asked why he couldn't have a night off and they said it was "too busy." I still think there may be something of a failure to communicate, but I'm thinking I might see if his brother would be willing to talk to them, to make sure they're understanding what he's asking.
• For the record, NO, I don't like only seeing him for a few hours on the weekend. (I've been asked that, quite sincerely.) Why have a boyfriend if he's not around to go to dinner, take walks, help me lift heavy things in my garage, etc.? At this point it feels more like a weekend booty call than a relationship.
• I have just not been able to "let things go" this week. I'm getting into...well, not "arguments," but let's say "heated discussions" with casual Facebook friends. I printed off the section of our local animal ordinances where it specifies that you are required to provide SHELTER for your outside animals, and I'm preparing to write a note on it and leave it on my neighbors' door. Their pitiful puppy is breaking my heart. In addition to being cold and wet, she's SO starved for attention--sadly, the ordinances don't require you to LOVE your dog, so I figure the best I can do is make them think I'll turn them in. And maybe offer a few bucks toward the purchase of some lumber for a doghouse.
• Maybe I'm cranky because the booty calls are so infrequent? Hmm.....hee.
• The H1N1 flu shot is now available here to anyone who wants it. I'm thinking of trying to get one tonight. I've never had the flu, and I hardly ever even get colds, but...I've got to start rehearsals for another show in a couple of months, and I sure don't want to get derailed by the swine in the midst of things.
• For the record, I am not jealous of or threatened by Sarah Palin because she's an attractive, strong, charismatic woman. I could use those adjectives to describe pretty much every one of my female friends. I abhor Sarah Palin because I disagree with her on every single issue, and because when she speaks, her "grammar" makes my brain hurt. (Can you guess what at least one of the aforementioned "discussions" was about?)
• I just finished reading the autobiography of the woman I portrayed in my recent play, who spent 16 years in prison for a crime she didn't commit. She actually was not "exonerated"--as is often the case, after the original verdict was overturned, the DA was reluctant to admit the mistake, and was prepared to try her again. She agreed to accept a no contest "Alford Plea." (I would, too, after 16 years.) Her lawyers told her she wasn't allowed to speak during the plea hearing. Not a word in her own defense. She was to listen to them read the charges against her, and then she was to sign on the dotted line and walk out the door. She agreed, but it galled her. So, as the prosecutor was reading the charges, she spoke up. "Excuse me, Your Honor." Every eye in the courtroom turned to her, including the panicked ones of her own attorneys. She sweetly continued, "I have a bad taste in my mouth--could I have a glass of water?" Hee!!! I love that. (The judge ordered a glass of water brought to her table. What else could he do?)
• I'm now reading "The Lacuna," by Barbara Kingsolver. I really like it so far. Don't you just love it when one of your favorite authors comes out with a new book? It's like a kid with a shiny new toy. I'm such a geek.
• I tried the new Chipotle that is relatively close to my house. Sadly, I was underwhelmed. Maybe I'll try it again when the staff is more....seasoned. Because when I order a vegetarian burrito, I don't expect the response to be "it'll be about five more minutes before the chicken is done cooking." Umm...okay. Let's just skip the chicken this time. Poor girl. She probably wondered what the hell she'd done when she started to scoop the fajita veggies onto my hapless burrito and I nearly jumped over the counter to stop her. "No! Not those!" In my defense, the fajita veggies include bell peppers, and we all know my feelings about those.
• I finally turned on the heat in my house a couple of days ago. I hate winter. They say this is going to be a bad one. According to the size of the spoons in the persimmon pits, or some such old wives tale. I hope those pits are wrong!

Okay, I'll just go ahead and wrap this up now. My life has really, really not been exciting lately, has it? Oh well, exciting is sometimes not all it's cracked up to be, right?

I guess we won't have time to get on each other's nerves

Hot Med's boss has him working all evenings lately. It kind of sucks. When he took the job he was on days, then they added in a couple of nights a week...now it's all nights. Six nights a week, 5-close (11:00 or later). Since I work 8-5, this really cuts down on our weekday interaction.

I think they're taking advantage of him a bit. He doesn't realize he has any say in the schedule--he's afraid to ask for a night off, or a switch back to days, because he thinks he'll be fired. (They've even called him several times to come in at the last minute on what was scheduled to be a night off, 'cause they know he won't say no.) I tried to tell him he surely won't be fired just for ASKING, but I don't think he believes me...so for now he's living with it. And complaining about it to me. He gets a little cranky when he's tired. I think we need to find him a new job.

We went to eat at a Chinese super-buffet this weekend, and they were already playing Christmas Muzak. Unacceptable! I was distracted from the aural torture briefly, though...as Hot Med and the Chinese waitress each smugly mocked the other's pronunciation of "water." Hee. (For the record, neither of them had any room to be mocking.)

So, in glass-half-full mode, I guess the benefit is that if we're seeing each other for such a brief amount of time each week, we'll both be on our best behavior, right?

And herein lies the problem...

One of the online dating sites I've used in the past just sent me this helpful information:

A Map of Love: your best male matches by state
target: USA sampled: 39200

Your Worst States
Mississippi — 60.1
Arkansas — 60.2
Wyoming — 60.5
Oklahoma — 60.6
South Dakota — 60.9


Your Best States
Massachusetts — 68.9
Oregon — 68.7
Washington — 67.9
Minnesota — 67.7
California — 67.7


A Map of Love: your best male matches by country
target: World sampled: 25207

Your Worst Countries
Saudi Arabia — 42.0
Pakistan — 42.1
Egypt — 43.9
Kenya — 46.3
Malaysia — 48.9

Your Best Countries
Israel — 69.3
South Korea — 68.1
Iceland — 67.8
Denmark — 67.3
Netherlands — 67.2

Clearly, I've been looking for love in all the wrong places. Hee!

(No, if you're wondering, Hot Med and I haven't broken up again. This information was sent unsolicited. In fact, I watched the Halloween parade yesterday with the entire Med family--we all just kind of pretended that Sis and Nephew had been away on a visit. Everyone was in good spirits. Sis brought back beautiful scarves for me and Sis-In-Law.)

Gotta run--too many things to do in too little time today, but I just had to share those maps.

It seems all I can manage these days are quickies. (You can read into that anything you like. Heh.)

So, the quickie report:

Opening weekend of the show went very well. A woman I didn't know came up to me after the show opening night, said "I feel like I know you, 'cause I've seen you onstage so often...could I...would you mind if I gave you a hug?" Hug away, strange lady! (Yeah, I know...it's cold and flu season. But she seemed healthy.) It was really sweet, if a bit odd. Nice to know you've touched someone's life, in a small way. Looking forward to next weekend, then looking forward to a break before I go back into rehearsals for the next one, probably some time in late January.

Hot Sis is coming back! Apparently she got back home, realized she'd made a mistake (I wonder if Mama read her the riot act), and booked a flight back to Tulsa. She and Nephew will be here Thursday, I believe, so he'll be able to go trick-or-treating, after all. I hope everyone has learned a lesson about regulating medications.

So, yeah...Hot Med and I are still "on," at least for now. Perhaps he'll dump me again when Sis gets back, and he's not so lonely and bored. Or perhaps I'll dump him this time. Uncertainty keeps life interesting, right? He does really, really want to make his own visit back home now, and I think he should, if it's feasible. Two years without seeing your mother is a long time. He asked what I would want him to bring me back as a gift, if he goes. Easy answer--jewelry and scarves. Hee.

"So You Think You Can Dance" is back. Looks like a most excellent Top 20. I'm a little worried about that designated "Paula Abdul Chair," though. Does this show need her wackiness on top of Mary's, for cryin' out loud?!

Okay, consider yourself updated. I'll let you know if there's any strange hugging next weekend. Ha!

What an...interesting weekend.

But no, it certainly wasn't Saturday's lunch date that made it so.

He was...a bit boring. No, he didn't order the sweet-and-sour. And no, he didn't have stubby fingers. He ordered "chicken" with broccoli, took one or two bites, excused himself to go the the restroom and didn't eat any more. He commented positively after the couple of bites he did take (and he did an eggroll for an appetizer), so I'm not sure what that was about. I asked at one point if it was not to his liking, and he said something about NOT being nervous but suddenly having no appetite. Weird.

Other than than, he was just a bit...staid, I guess. Terribly earnest and seemingly a bit humorless. He kept making these "statements" about himself that I presume he makes on all first dates. I really prefer just to let the conversation flow and see what comes out that way, but he was all "Liz, I have something that I need to tell you about myself." Very ponderous, and I'm thinking he's on the sex offender registry or something, but all that followed was a pronouncement that he's looking for a long-term relationship, and doesn't like one-night stands. Oh, thanks for telling me. I was getting ready to invite you back to my place for a quickie.

He used my name a lot...in that way that you're taught to do in seminars and self-help books, and I really don't like that. It seems so transparent to me. We're the only two people at the table; I don't need you to keep referencing my name. I know you're talking to me.

The date lasted about an hour, we did a quick, awkward hug in the parking lot, and there was a mutual exchange of "nice to meet you" but no follow-up "let's do this again sometime."

So, you're thinking, what made the weekend interesting? Clearly it wasn't this fellow.

Well...Saturday morning I had an email from Hot Med's sister-in-law. Apparently all hell broke loose in Med Land after I left it. Sis, who I knew had some clinical depression problems, and had recently gone on a new medication, apparently is full-on bipolar, and had a major, major breakdown, which included a screaming fit in Starbucks, wherein she accused Hot Bro and SIL of keeping her in the country against her will, trying to control her, etc. Sounds like pretty ugly stuff. (And, as Hot Bro said, "so embarrassing." I'm guessing it was in Arabic, too, so they're probably lucky someone didn't call homeland security. Heh.)

She sold some gold jewelry, got enough for plane tickets, and was packed up and off to Lebanon with her son in the course of a few hours.

Not only that, SIL said, but she's convinced Hot Med to get his passport and visa in order and follow her shortly.

Wowza.

Well, about ten minutes after my date with Mr. Earnest ended, I got a phone call. It was Hot Bro, saying Hot Med was being all dramatic and wanted to see me to "say goodbye," and would I mind seeing him, and perhaps trying to reason with him a bit? (They're convinced that Sis's mania-fueled hysterics and manipulations are influencing him too much.)

So I did. I know, I know.

I spent a couple of hours with him that afternoon, and by the time I left he was all "well, maybe I'll go, and maybe I won't. Or maybe I'll just go for a visit."

I have no idea what will happen long-term, but I saw him again yesterday--he came with me to the block party singing gig I had in the afternoon. Hot Bro and SIL came, as well. We all had a nice time--Hot Med was on his best behavior, being all sweet and charming. I don't know that I would say we're "on again," exactly, but apparently we're not so "off again" as I thought.

At least he isn't boring. He is spoiled, and suffering from major "Peter Pan" syndrome, as is his sister, but...he isn't boring. Heh.

The saddest part of the whole thing is the little boy. He was really enjoying his life here--had his little plastic pumpkin ready for trick-or-treating, and not one but two costumes prepared. He was singing with a boys' choir, and excited to wear a special outfit in their Christmas concert. He was learning to roller blade. He was learning a little discipline (though not from his mother). Hot Bro is hoping that they can bring him back here at some point to continue his education, but for now they're just very sad about the whole thing.

So, that was my weekend. How was yours?

Another quickie

I can't seem to get my mind wrapped around an entire blog post, so here's the quickie update.

I have a lunch date scheduled for Saturday, with Bachelor #1, at my favorite vegetarian restaurant. (How many dates have I taken there now? I've lost track. Hee.) Will he have stubby fingers? Will he order the sweet-and-sour "chicken"? Time will tell. Coincidentally, this guy's name is the same as the American name that Hot Med liked to use (which bore no relation to his actual name). That's kind of weird. I wonder if he'd mind if I called him Mustapha instead?

Nothing really happening with any of the other guys who've contacted me. Too soon to tell if our "conversations" have completely fizzled out, but we're not burning up the internet with our communiques, for sure.

Other than that...it's raining, endlessly, and I'm pretty busy with rehearsals.

Ta ta for now.

Quickie update

The new (very flattering) profile picture seems to be bringing them out in droves. I'm currently involved in some level of "communication" with 5 different guys, from 4 different dating websites. They can't ALL be losers, can they? (Don't answer that!)

Maybe for good this time

The break-up. Which apparently Hot Med and I have done again. Short story--he's a boy. He may look like a man, but he's nowhere near grown up, and apparently after spending most of his life being coddled by his mother and not working for a living, etc., he's chafing a bit at the obligations inherent in being a responsible adult. Which include the obligations inherent in having a mature, adult relationship.

Whatever, I say. Have a nice life. I'm sure he'll be just fine without me, though he might want to watch how he treats his brother. HIS help is essential for someone living in America with no real working knowledge of written English. Might not want to piss HIM off, dude.

In an effort to speed up the "getting over him" process, I went ahead and made searchable my various online profiles. I've already been contacted by a couple of guys, one of whom says his biggest turn-on is "conversation with intelligent women." Of course, this is my life we're talking about, so I have no doubt that at some point I will discover that he has stubby fingers. Heh.

I'm also deep into rehearsals for the upcoming play and a charity gig my band is doing, so...plenty to keep my myself occupied.

Hot Who?

Cultural divides

Try explaining to your Lebanese boyfriend and his sister why you just bought yourself a set of small bendable plastic figures--one a green fellow with oddly slanted pointy head, and one an orange pony.

"It's Gumby and Pokey!"

Blank stares.

"They had a TV show when I was a kid. They went in and out of books!"

Blank stares.

"Never mind."

I believe in second chances.

So, yeah...I spent quite a bit of time this weekend with Hot Med and the Med family. Sunday afternoon Hot Sis called to see if I wanted to meet her and Hot Med at Starbucks. (Always with the Starbucks.) I inquired as to whether HE really wanted me to come, she assured me he did, so I went. Hot Med instantly jumped up to offer me a seat, and bought me an iced tea. It was a little awkward for a bit, then we all relaxed. Eventually we decided to go check out an art sale in a hotel, then Sis insisted that I come over so she could make us all dinner. Hot Bro and Sis-in-Law showed up soon after with nephew in tow (they'd been out trying to teach him to rollerblade) and we all had a nice dinner together. Pasta with vegetables. Of course. Sigh. But hey--this time they put CHEESE on it. Heh. There was some discussion of planning a joint birthday party in a couple of weeks--turns out SIL and I have the same birthday, and Sis's is just four days earlier. Eventually Bro and SIL left, and diplomatically insisted that Sis take Nephew out for more rollerblading, so Hot Med and I could have some time alone.

A little talk, some promises of better behavior, a little canoodling, a plan to get together at some point the next day.

He called me bright and early yesterday morning, and I took him and Sis to lunch (nephew was out again on the rollerblades), we hung out for much of the afternoon, then we dropped her off and he and I went back to my place for a while.

So, it seems to be back on. And, like I said, I believe in second chances. (Third chances? That's a different story.) And, truthfully, looking back, I wasn't blameless in the friction, either. I mean, he was being a jerk and all, but...I haven't been in the greatest mood the last month or so, either (as evidenced by my near complete failure to post on this blog), and I think we were both guilty of letting our bad moods effect our relationship. Which is a completely vicious cycle, of course. But clearly we each missed the other while we were on hiatus, so...I think another try seems reasonable.

And that's where it stands for now. But don't worry--I am perfectly willing to drive off again and leave him standing in the Starbucks parking lot if things go bad a second time. You know--fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice...um...er...you can't get fooled again! (Thanks, Dubya.)

Long weekend!

Yes, a nice long holiday weekend, and I have nothing planned. Not one thing. I think I have decided that sounds nice. Lots of laying around. Though, in the interest of full disclosure, I will admit that I will be probably be getting together at least once with Hot Med, to talk in person. Don't judge me--this whole breakup thing has happened over the phone, NOT his best medium, and I just want to talk to him face-to-face at least once before I write him off forever. Especially now that he's back to being pleasant and answering phone calls.

In other news, for those of you not following the ins and outs of my life via facebook, I did get cast in the play. Whoo hoo! It's "The Exonerated," if anyone is interested. It's based on the true-life accounts of several people who were falsely convicted, sent to death row, and then later exonerated. My character is a woman who spent 16 years behind bars for a crime she didn't commit. Should be interesting.

You know what I think? I think EVERY president should give a back-to-school motivational speech to America's children. Why the heck not? Whether they (or their parents) agree or disagree politically with the person in office, why not make children feel involved? "Indoctrination," my ass.

Okay, I'm going to go back now to watching the clock and waiting for the "all clear" signal so we can get out of here early and get on with our weekends.

Have a good one!

I believe this falls under the heading of "having your cake and eating it, too."

I just got a call from Hot Med. (The first time HE'S called ME in days, actually. I usually made the calls--he's not crazy about talking on the phone.) Do I have a new boyfriend yet? "NO. We just broke up. Why, do YOU have a new girlfriend already?!" No--he's "single." But...he's off work tomorrow, and he misses me...would I like to get together?

My answer? NO. Not if he still plans to consider himself unattached.

Which, apparently, he does. How do you say "booty call" in Arabic, I wonder?

I would be offended, but I'm too busy being amused. I knew he'd miss me. Heh.

It feels like fall.

It feels like fall here. I think we had the coolest August on record, so I'm not doing my usual "dance of joy" at its passing, but...I think I'm ready for a change nonetheless. How 'bout I start by not neglecting my poor little blog quite so much?

Let's just get you caught up with some bullets.

• Hot Med and I are over. Long story short--he was kind of being a jerk the last few weeks, both to me and his brother. I called him on it, we had a spat, we didn't talk for a week, though I did make efforts to call him (not wanting to leave it on an unpleasant note), we finally talked on the phone Sunday and...he says he "doesn't want a girlfriend." He's too poor, too busy working...he just wants "friends." I think I was cutting into his "sitting around at Starbucks" time, truthfully. And, if that's really how he wants to spend his life, well...good luck to him.
• His brother is insistent that I still be friends with the rest of the family, even though Hot Med is "being a jerk." I KNEW they liked me! "He was so lucky to have you." I know, Hot Bro, I know. Heh.
• I am saddened by the split, but not devastated. I'm not sure I ever really saw this being a longterm thing, though I wasn't ready for it to be over, either. Such is life.
• I've gone online to the various dating sites, un-hidden my profile and snooped around a bit. It's more than a bit depressing to see that most of the guys in my age range are the same ones I was passing over a year ago. It doesn't bode well for my immediate dating future, for sure. And I'm shallow enough to admit that, having dated a younger guy with admirable biceps, I'm not all that excited about doughy, middle-aged men. Not that I currently have any room to talk, of course.
  
• Last weekend I played a set with my band and did a scene from an upcoming play, at the grand opening of the new space of one of the companies I work with most often. It went really well--good crowd, good food, good feedback on the performances. Our emcee for the evening was a local late-night talk show host, and he said he'd love to have me on his show to sing soon. We'll see how that goes.
• So, yeah...I have a play coming up, but not until NEXT MARCH. I really, really need something to keep me occupied between now and then. To that end, I auditioned this weekend for another upcoming show. I have no idea if I'm being seriously considered, but I would love to do this play. It concerns a topic I'm fairly passionate about, I love the director (Hi, George!) and the timing would be perfect. So...fingers crossed.
• My work has been making me crazy. My boss is on vacation for a week. Thank goodness.
• Last night my cats decided to turn the living room into an Indy racetrack or a pinball machine or something. I was asleep on the couch at the time, and was rudely awakened by a cat crashing across me, claws extended. I have some seriously nasty-looking scratches on my thigh (not unusual) and on my FACE (three full claw tracks, about four inches long). I think this would be a good time to take an interesting new dating profile pic, don't you? Caption: "Just back from the Serengeti."
  
• Have you watched the show "Hoarders" on A&E? It makes me feel SO much better about my packrat tendencies. I'm a total amateur compared to these people. You can walk easily through MY house. (Don't open that hallway closet too quickly, though. Hee.)
• I have a birthday coming up this month. 47. There's no way to spin that--I'm in my late 40s. I could insist 46 was MID-40s, but 47? Nope. I'm really not depressed about it--I just keep thinking "where did the time go?" and "wasn't I supposed to have it all figured out by now?"
• I really, really need to get started on an exercise program, but I'm having trouble with my foot. I think I may have ended up with a stress fracture a couple of weeks ago. It's better now, but not quite right, and I don't want to make it worse. Figures--I'm mentally ready to start moving, and my body is lagging behind.
• Speaking of which, my eye is still red. Remember--the one with the wonky eyelash? It's never quite gotten back to normal. I don't have the money for another trip to the eye doctor right now, so I just keep the artificial tears handy, and hope that "tincture of time" will work its magic.
• I am depressed about the future of healthcare reform, and the ridiculous lies being told by the opposition. This may become an entire ranty post of its own soon. Be warned.
  
• When I want to cheer myself up a bit, I just look at the 100 oz thermal travel mug one of my college buddies (with whom I've reconnected via facebook) brought me the last time he came to visit. I thought my previous 52 oz travel mug was the be-all and end-all of mugdom, but I was wrong. He had one of these things at our "reunion" a few weeks ago, and my envy was so great that he bought me one of my very own. It's gigantic, and I carry it around with me all day, filled with iced tea. I'll have to post a pic.

Okay, I've made it to gloating about my mug...I think that signals an end to the rambling for today.

I'm pretty sure it's my popsicles.

It's kind of fun dating a guy whose family you like, and who seem to like you, as well. (Of course, I don't really know if I would have liked New Guy's family or not, since I wasn't actually allowed to meet anyone but his autistic son, who, through some unfortunate timing, thought I personally caused tornado warnings and sirens. Needless to say, he wasn't crazy about me.)

A couple of times this week we've gone swimming with Hot Sis and Nephew. Last night I offered to bring over frozen veggie burgers and fries and fix dinner, too. They're mostly vegetarian, but Nephew has been exposed to American junk food at summer camp, and loves burgers and dogs, so I thought I'd show them how he can have those things without meat being involved.

Big hit. Sis thought they were delicious, but kept asking, "are you SURE there's no meat in here?" Nephew didn't care WHAT they were made of, he just loved them. He ate THREE burgers. (Didn't care for the fries, though...what kind of 7-year-old kid doesn't like fries?)

I also brought a box of popsicles, and he had about four of those, as well. Sis said they had similar treats in Lebanon, but she hadn't thought to look for them here. Nephew just kept saying, "I did not know there was such a thing as 'popsicle' in America!" It was cute.

After our swim, I found out that Sis is a whiz at "foreign object implanted in your foot" removal. I broke a perfume bottle a couple of nights ago, and apparently didn't get it all swept up. Yesterday morning I stepped on a shard of glass. HARD. I poked around in there while cleaning it up, and thought maybe I had gotten it out, but by last night it was clear there was something still in there. I decided to take another go at it after our swim, when my feet were all soft and waterlogged, and spent about ten minutes poking around unsuccessfully. I could FEEL the glass with the tweezers, way in there, I just couldn't quite grab it. Nephew was quite concerned--"there is red, there is red!" (He apparently didn't know the word for blood.) "You need an ambulance! You need an ambulance!" Hot Med, a bit skeptically--"DO you need ambulance?" NO! I do not need an ambulance, for pete's sake. Eventually Sis offered to try. She got a needle and some tweezers, rammed 'em in there, and pulled out a piece of glass about 1/4" long. We all marveled at its size. I told her she could send me a bill for glass removal, or I could pay in popsicles. Heh.

Before I left, Nephew asked hopefully if I would be coming to swim again tonight. (Answer no, Hot Med is working.) My heart was a little warmed by his asking, but I'm under no real illusion that he's THAT fond of my company.

I'm pretty sure it's my popsicles.

In other news, my eye is still red, two weeks after wonky lash removal. I left a message last week with the doctor's office, asking if it that was okay, or if I should be worried. No one ever called back, which I found appalling, frankly. I tried again today--the girl who answered had no excuse for the unreturned call, but apologized and said she would relay the question to the doctor right away and call me back. She was true to her word--she called about ten minutes later to tell me the doctor wasn't worried--it USUALLY clears up faster than that, but not ALWAYS, and they would be happy to squeeze me in next week if I'd like him to take a look at it. I told them I'd give it a few more days first. I really just wanted to hear someone tell me I'm still within the bounds of normal. Normal for me always being something of a subjective thing. Heh.

Those of you so inclined, please think good thoughts/say prayers for a friend of mine who's been discovered to have a brain tumor. The biopsy results aren't back yet, so they don't know exactly what they're dealing with, but...a brain tumor is never good. And she doesn't have health insurance, so...send some good juju her way, please.

Mr. Monk is back tonight! For the final season! They'd better by god tell us who murdered Trudy. I'm just sayin'.

Good weekends, everyone.

Four months? Really?

Hot Med and I had our first date four months ago tonight. Now, you still shouldn't expect any "save the date" announcements, by any means...I'm just amazed we've made it this far, considering that after our first incredibly awkward phone conversation I wasn't sure I wanted to meet in person at all. And after our first date I really had reservations about a second. And then after the third or fourth date I remember exasperatedly telling my mother that I didn't have the time or patience to teach him English.

I still don't--though God knows somebody needs to--but...here we are. No expectations...and maybe that's the way to go. I had great expectations for my relationship with New Guy, after all, and look how that turned out. Heh.

Other than that...

The evening of monologues went really well. I hadn't been onstage in a year, and I was a little nervous before the rehearsal run-through, but as soon as I heard people laugh, I was fine, and had a lot of fun. Hot Med had to work, which is just as well, since I think he would have been bored.

And lately he does not hesitate to tell me when something is boring him. And what bores him? Well, anything on TV that's not an action movie, plus conversations he can't quite follow. You'd think that might stir him on to getting more ESL classes, but you'd be wrong. I've tried to encourage him in that direction, but I'm starting to feel like a nag, so...I guess he'll go when he's ready. Or not. He is actually understanding a lot more of what he hears than he used to, but his vocabulary is very limited, and he still has trouble with certain sounds that aren't common to Arabic. "P" comes out sounding like "b" and "th" is more of a "f." So my dog's name is "Budge" and sometimes he is "firsty."

The other day he was talking about pant length--and whatever he was trying to call the length between "pants" and "shorts"--what you or I might call "capris"--it sounded to me like "panticools," and I laughed for about ten minutes uncontrollably. He didn't quite understand why it was so funny, but he likes making me laugh, so he just kept saying it over and over. Hmm....maybe I don't want him to learn correct English, after all. Hee.

I'm preparing to sing a few songs with my pickin' boys and do a scene from a play (the one I was going to do last spring and am now going to do next spring) at the big grand opening party of the theatre's new space. I'm also supposed to be hitting some vendors up for food. Perhaps I should get on that. It might involve making phone calls, and despite the fact that I spend a great deal of my work day on the phone, I've never gotten comfortable with cold-calling of any sort. We'll want our guests to eat, though...so I should just suck it up and get it done.

I'm sure something else must have happened in the last couple of weeks...

You probably don't want to hear about the wonky backward-growing eyelash that cost me $250 (so far) in doctor bills, do you? My eye is still somewhat red, a week after the expensive wonky lash removal, so maybe we'll discuss it again another time. Though I hope not. Fingers crossed. Although, on the plus side, the results (apart from the lash problem) of my first-ever actual eye exam were "your eyes look great. Don't come back until you're 50." (Or, you know, in three years. Hee. And sigh.)

Yesterday I cleaned my office and desk. That was exciting. And way, way overdue.

Other than that, well...it's been a bit slow around here. Nothing much to report, really. I'll check back in when I have something to say, I suppose.

I'm not dead.

In case you were wondering. I just seem to have an extended case of the summertime/it's so hot it makes me a little cranky/don't feel like formulating a post blues. Heh.

Nutshell?

• Still seeing Hot Med. Sometimes want to smack him, but then he makes me laugh, so...it's still on.
• Working on monologues for performance this Saturday evening. Should be fun. Can't decide whether to tell Hot Med about it--I really think he'd be bored (no "action"), but I don't want his feelings to be hurt if I don't invite him. Hmm...
• Had a decent 4th of July.
• Too hot to walk, but have been swimming a few times.
• Went back to hometown yesterday to visit with friends again. Miss them. *Pout.*
• Car battery died in hometown yesterday. Jumped it to drive home, borrowed my dad's portable battery charger for this morning, waiting to hear from the mechanic whether the alternator is involved. (Please god, no.)
• Had a bad allergy outbreak last week. Ponied up money to see the doctor. Also have a big red splotch in one eye which the doctor assumed was also allergy-related. Prescribed allergy drops.
• Had heart attack at pharmacy because said drops were $103.49!
• Drops aren't working. Don't think it's allergies. Fearful that an expensive eye doctor may have to be consulted. (Please god, no.)

I think that catches you up.

It's supposed to be 100 today and 103 tomorrow, with heat indexes even higher...so my heat-induced blahs won't be going away this week, for sure. I'll probably also be whiny. The whiny blahs...poor Hot Med. (Hee.)

I don't see why I shouldn't be kissing this, do you?

My parents took this picture of Pudge at their house this weekend. I swear to you that no Photoshopping was done to achieve this creepy, demonic look. His eyes just do that! (In pictures, I mean. Not in real life. Though that would be super-cool.)

And how was the weekend otherwise? Lovely. There's just something great about friendships that enable you to fall right back into step, after years of separation, as if you'd just reentered the room to resume a conversation started mere moments before. We didn't do anything spectacular...just talked and laughed and ate and drank and snuggled with the resident dogs and ran to the store and complained about the heat and then started in all over again. Like I said, lovely. They're mostly later sleepers than I am, so I managed to get in a little time with my parents, as well, while waiting for my friends to wake up after our late night at the bar.

I think we've all held up really well, after all these years...everyone looked great. And, believe me, nothing makes you feel better, as an all-too-soon-to-be-47-year-old, than hearing "my god, you haven't aged a day," or "you're even more beautiful in your 40s than you were in your 20s." Heh.

Of course, I'm a little depressed now that I don't get to see these people every day, but maybe it won't be another 20 years before we're all together again in the same room. I had several primary groups of close friends in college, sort of serially (first the instrumental music people, then the vocal music people, then the theatre people) (though I never actually dropped any of the groups, just changed my focus a bit), but these are the people I was close to when I really...became myself, if that makes any sense. It was great to spend some time with them again, limited as it was. And until the next time--there's always Bacefook!

So, did I even THINK about Hot Med while I was gone? You know, I did, a bit. Not constantly, mind you, but I did kind of miss him. That's probably a good sign. Heh.