It's official: I'm blogging from work. Next thing you know I'll be myspacing from work, and I'll have downloaded AIM on my work computer...Maybe not. Blogging is writing and writing is also work, albeit not the kind of work they're paying me for here. But I'm the only one currently in the office, and everything I have lined up to do this afternoon involves the same copy machine that's currently printing 300 copies of an 18-page handbook. Incidentally, I was telling my boss about Secretary earlier today, and although she's a little wary of the S&M aspect of it, she wants to borrow it from me. She also asked if I picked up any good tips - you know, learned from this movie. The answer is no. Not about being a secretary anyway.
Back to the point I hadn't started making yet. Last night, I went out to dinner with some friends - we called it a double date, but really it was one gay couple and one mostly-straight pair of teenyboppers - to a Chinese restaurant that has "meat" options (vegans: you can't take them anywhere). I'd had this sinking feeling all day that I was going to run into someone I knew there, because there just aren't that many vegan-friendly Chinese restaurants around, and everyone likes the novelty of tofu that really does taste just like ham.
Sure enough, when we were about halfway through our meal, talking about how awkward it was when Amanda & I went to this party with a bunch of Rocky people a few weeks ago. Then I saw two of Piano Man's friends come in. Speaking of awkward...
Ok, so I kind of stared the one guy down, half to make sure it was him, but also to say "I know you know what happened, and I'm back whether he likes it or not". Then they smiled, came over and started talking to us, or, should I say, mostly to the people who weren't me.
I was: embarrassed, vindictive, self-righteous, guilty, angry, haughty, traumatized - you name it - but I tried not to let it show too much. Still, a little awkwardness hung in the air. I'd like to think that it would've been worse if it'd been Piano Man himself that was there, but I think, in a way, that would've been more gratifying, because it would've ended in words, or tears, or fisticuffs, or someone getting a cup of green tea (for lack of a cocktail) thrown in his face. Even more exciting if Mrs. Piano Man had showed up too. What can I say? I'm a sucker for drama, and this is going to have to come to a head eventually.
But let's just say this: Round 1 is over. It seems to have been a draw. But it was only his friends - just a preliminary - and there will be a Round 2. Like I've said so many times before, this town just ain't big enough for the two of us.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Thursday, August 24, 2006
It was so long ago, but it's all coming back to me.
Let me start by saying that I have, like, 12 best friends. My bridal party alone consists of eight bridesmaids and two flower girls, and that's not even including the people I've gotten super close to in more recent years, like Emma, C-List, and Libertine. So believe me when I say that this weekend, I went to lunch with five of my best girlfriends (plus one child, one cousin, and one of my best friends' other best friend).
In a way, it was great: I hadn't seen most of these people in at least a year, and our long table at Buca di Beppo managed to talk and laugh for the entire two hours we were there. But then we started walking through the mall, and suddenly I was back in high school again. Or maybe college - I know these people from different walks of life. Anyway, suddenly I was worried that if I was walking with one person, would the others think that she was my best best friend and that I was ignoring them in favor of her? Suddenly I was aware that my friends were all wearing outfits, while I, ever the low-maintenance, fashion-challenged Barbie, was wearing shorts, a tank top, and wash-n-go hair. Suddenly, I began to feel self-conscious and generally inferior.
I took our little band into the store where B works. B is my male best friend, whom I also hadn't seen since last summer, and our little reunion was everything I'd hoped it would be, with long, hard hugs, and kisses just shy of the mouth: I thrive on male affection, and B is a safe person to give it to me without Lui freaking out too much. Then he noticed just how many of us there were (eight and a half), felt that he'd been backed into a corner, and went into defense mode: charm. Don't get me wrong, B is a generally charming guy - he's a salesman, he has to be - but I had never seen this B before: he was in full used-car salesman mode, you could almost see the slime dripping off him. So of course all my friends who hadn't met him before, and even a few of the ones who had, decided he was smarmy, sleazy, and various other unflattering s-adjectives. In the meantime, he's asking me to set him up with my friend who we'll call Suzy Highschool (because she's my best friend from high school, and is kind of, you know, like that). B's on this quest to reform his manwhore ways and find someone to date seriously. Is making girls shudder with disgust at his flagrant come-ons the way to find this person? Probably not, but he wanted me to feel Suzy out for him anyway. I did. She was disgusted.
But I digress. I went home that night feeling inferior, both because of the previously mentioned lack of style, and because I know I'll never be the girl who stands out in a crowd of friends. Suzy is beautiful, bubbly and outgoing, and ever since we were 16, I've felt like I'm in her shadow when we're out together, like no one will ever prefer me to her, like I'm the sidekick - you get the idea. The fact that B, who is mine in a way, seemed to prefer her to me as well... Well, it hurt a little, and definitely made me feel 16 again. I mean, I know what her faults are, and I know that there are ways in which I definitely measure up and even surpass her. But on first impression... I am in jeans, I haven't styled my hair, my nose is too big, I'm quiet and shy, I can't walk in heels, and there's a good chance I'm wearing glasses that don't quite fit my face anymore because I've lost a bunch of weight since I got them. It's not a good combination if I ever want to wow people.
And yes, I know I shouldn't be jealous of or competing with my closest friends, but I'm a girl and we do that. And I know that Lui loves me just as I am, and tells me so on a daily basis, but sometimes I just want to blow people away. And I feel like I can never do that, and then I wonder if I just might be totally devoid of charisma.
I got over it, of course. B and I talked on the phone, I told him of all these concerns, and he reassured me by talking shit about Suzy (he gave up trying to date her after I told him that her aversion to him might be something as superficial as his height - he's 5'8") and told me that I have the best body of all my friends, which may be true from a conventional standpoint - and if it is, good! I deserve it after all the working out I've done. Like I said, I thrive on male affection, so typically if I need to be reassured about something, I call boy-friends rather than girlfriends. But really, eventually, I need to get to the root of this problem and solve it (it's all in my head, I'm sure), or I may end up feeling second best to my maid-of-honor on my wedding day.
In a way, it was great: I hadn't seen most of these people in at least a year, and our long table at Buca di Beppo managed to talk and laugh for the entire two hours we were there. But then we started walking through the mall, and suddenly I was back in high school again. Or maybe college - I know these people from different walks of life. Anyway, suddenly I was worried that if I was walking with one person, would the others think that she was my best best friend and that I was ignoring them in favor of her? Suddenly I was aware that my friends were all wearing outfits, while I, ever the low-maintenance, fashion-challenged Barbie, was wearing shorts, a tank top, and wash-n-go hair. Suddenly, I began to feel self-conscious and generally inferior.
I took our little band into the store where B works. B is my male best friend, whom I also hadn't seen since last summer, and our little reunion was everything I'd hoped it would be, with long, hard hugs, and kisses just shy of the mouth: I thrive on male affection, and B is a safe person to give it to me without Lui freaking out too much. Then he noticed just how many of us there were (eight and a half), felt that he'd been backed into a corner, and went into defense mode: charm. Don't get me wrong, B is a generally charming guy - he's a salesman, he has to be - but I had never seen this B before: he was in full used-car salesman mode, you could almost see the slime dripping off him. So of course all my friends who hadn't met him before, and even a few of the ones who had, decided he was smarmy, sleazy, and various other unflattering s-adjectives. In the meantime, he's asking me to set him up with my friend who we'll call Suzy Highschool (because she's my best friend from high school, and is kind of, you know, like that). B's on this quest to reform his manwhore ways and find someone to date seriously. Is making girls shudder with disgust at his flagrant come-ons the way to find this person? Probably not, but he wanted me to feel Suzy out for him anyway. I did. She was disgusted.
But I digress. I went home that night feeling inferior, both because of the previously mentioned lack of style, and because I know I'll never be the girl who stands out in a crowd of friends. Suzy is beautiful, bubbly and outgoing, and ever since we were 16, I've felt like I'm in her shadow when we're out together, like no one will ever prefer me to her, like I'm the sidekick - you get the idea. The fact that B, who is mine in a way, seemed to prefer her to me as well... Well, it hurt a little, and definitely made me feel 16 again. I mean, I know what her faults are, and I know that there are ways in which I definitely measure up and even surpass her. But on first impression... I am in jeans, I haven't styled my hair, my nose is too big, I'm quiet and shy, I can't walk in heels, and there's a good chance I'm wearing glasses that don't quite fit my face anymore because I've lost a bunch of weight since I got them. It's not a good combination if I ever want to wow people.
And yes, I know I shouldn't be jealous of or competing with my closest friends, but I'm a girl and we do that. And I know that Lui loves me just as I am, and tells me so on a daily basis, but sometimes I just want to blow people away. And I feel like I can never do that, and then I wonder if I just might be totally devoid of charisma.
I got over it, of course. B and I talked on the phone, I told him of all these concerns, and he reassured me by talking shit about Suzy (he gave up trying to date her after I told him that her aversion to him might be something as superficial as his height - he's 5'8") and told me that I have the best body of all my friends, which may be true from a conventional standpoint - and if it is, good! I deserve it after all the working out I've done. Like I said, I thrive on male affection, so typically if I need to be reassured about something, I call boy-friends rather than girlfriends. But really, eventually, I need to get to the root of this problem and solve it (it's all in my head, I'm sure), or I may end up feeling second best to my maid-of-honor on my wedding day.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
I've been tagged!
The Book Meme
Sorry, I don't know how to embed pictures of the covers and then put the text over to the side of them. So I'm just gonna text it.
1. One book that changed your life:
The Sound & the Fury by William Faulkner. My class was reading this in 11th grade, while I was going through one of my schoolwork abstinence phases. I listened to my teacher's explanations of the incredibly difficult material, and thought it was so cool. So I read the book and caught up on all the work. That may have been the exact moment when my already-suspected lit-nerdiness was confirmed: here was this book that my classmates all hated, and I just couldn't get enough of it: I thought what the author was doing was so brilliant.
One book you have read more than once:
Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie. My copy is all dog-eared and yellowed and crumbling, and you know I don't disrespect my books. It's one of those kids' books that you don't realize is also for adults until you are one. The messages about faith and trust and magic are so good, and so believeable.
One book you would want on a desert island:
Poems on the Underground or any other large poetry compilation. Something to read, something to think about, and, assuming I also had a pen & paper on my island, I'd be able to write imitations and inspired pieces as well.
One book that made you laugh:
Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke. I was living in the UK, and this book was subtly making fun of the British. It was like having 782 pages of inside jokes. And the book is so good too - I don't even like fantasy (haven't bothered to read Harry Potter or LOTR), and I couldn't put it down.
One book that made you cry:
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. But they were tears of happiness at the end. This is one of my all-time favorites. Clever chick-lit - who would've thought?
One book you wish had been written:
A bestseller. By me.
One book you wish you had written:
Bridget Jones's Diary by Helen Fielding. I'm a diary person. There was a gap in the market for a good diary book. The gap has now been filled, both by a good diary book and by several bad diary books inspired by the success of the good one. Damn.
One book you wish had never been written:
The DaVinci Code by Dan Brown. I just can't stand all the hype over something so poorly written. Not that I've read any of it. But the few sentences I've glimpsed over people's shoulders are enough.
One book you are currently reading:
Airman's Odyssey by Antoine Saint-Exupéry. I've only read the introduction. But I love Le Petit Prince. I'll let you know.
One book you have been meaning to read:
My aunt just gave me Sex & the Married Girl: From Clicking to Climaxing - the Complete Truth About Modern Marriage by Mandi Norwood. I can't wait to read it.
------------------------------------------
I tag C-List and Libertine, and whoever else reads this blog regularly (which may be no one).
Sorry, I don't know how to embed pictures of the covers and then put the text over to the side of them. So I'm just gonna text it.
1. One book that changed your life:
The Sound & the Fury by William Faulkner. My class was reading this in 11th grade, while I was going through one of my schoolwork abstinence phases. I listened to my teacher's explanations of the incredibly difficult material, and thought it was so cool. So I read the book and caught up on all the work. That may have been the exact moment when my already-suspected lit-nerdiness was confirmed: here was this book that my classmates all hated, and I just couldn't get enough of it: I thought what the author was doing was so brilliant.
One book you have read more than once:
Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie. My copy is all dog-eared and yellowed and crumbling, and you know I don't disrespect my books. It's one of those kids' books that you don't realize is also for adults until you are one. The messages about faith and trust and magic are so good, and so believeable.
One book you would want on a desert island:
Poems on the Underground or any other large poetry compilation. Something to read, something to think about, and, assuming I also had a pen & paper on my island, I'd be able to write imitations and inspired pieces as well.
One book that made you laugh:
Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke. I was living in the UK, and this book was subtly making fun of the British. It was like having 782 pages of inside jokes. And the book is so good too - I don't even like fantasy (haven't bothered to read Harry Potter or LOTR), and I couldn't put it down.
One book that made you cry:
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. But they were tears of happiness at the end. This is one of my all-time favorites. Clever chick-lit - who would've thought?
One book you wish had been written:
A bestseller. By me.
One book you wish you had written:
Bridget Jones's Diary by Helen Fielding. I'm a diary person. There was a gap in the market for a good diary book. The gap has now been filled, both by a good diary book and by several bad diary books inspired by the success of the good one. Damn.
One book you wish had never been written:
The DaVinci Code by Dan Brown. I just can't stand all the hype over something so poorly written. Not that I've read any of it. But the few sentences I've glimpsed over people's shoulders are enough.
One book you are currently reading:
Airman's Odyssey by Antoine Saint-Exupéry. I've only read the introduction. But I love Le Petit Prince. I'll let you know.
One book you have been meaning to read:
My aunt just gave me Sex & the Married Girl: From Clicking to Climaxing - the Complete Truth About Modern Marriage by Mandi Norwood. I can't wait to read it.
------------------------------------------
I tag C-List and Libertine, and whoever else reads this blog regularly (which may be no one).
Friday, August 18, 2006
Jiggety-Jig
My hair is officially long enough to cover potentially embarrassing hard nipples again. Which is awesome.
The highlight of the trip home (flew out of Heathrow a day before the attacks were supposed to happen) was when the lady checking boarding passes on the way into the security line tried to confiscate my Burt's Bees. I mean, she did confiscate my Burt's Bees after I'd asked her whether it was okay to take on board (the AA website had said it was), but then she didn't throw it away so much as leave it on her desk where I could see it shrinking in the distance, and when I nearly started crying (it had been a pretty emotional morning, saying goodbye to Lui and all), my dad went back and got it for me. I put it in my bag and the actual security people either didn't see it on the x-ray, or didn't care. The other highlight was the irony of one of the people operating the x-rays being a middle-aged Arab man, beard, turban and all. Ah, racial profiling.
It's not as weird to be home this year as it was last year, which is weird in itself because last year was a vacation and this year is kind of permanent. I haven't seen any of my friends yet though, and I think what shocked me most last summer was how little their lives had changed while mine was progressing so rapidly. So it may get there yet.
I've been seeing a chiropractor as of yesterday, and he's promised that he can help fix my digestion problems and my infertility problem. I think I'm going to like this. Like, a lot.
Oh, and I didn't tell you, Libertine, that the dreaded thing happened: Lui accidentally clicked on the wrong bookmark and stumbled across my blog. He knew it existed, he knew where it was, he'd just always told me he had no intent of reading it, which allowed me to write things I wouldn't necessarily tell him. But he landed on it, so he read the last entry, the one about Sex & the City and like all of my exes and how they still play into my life... It was bad. But not as bad as it could've been. But still pretty bad, and I got to tell him all sorts of fun things like how he betrayed my trust. Usually when we argue, it's my fault. So I guess this was a nice change.
That's about it for now. I've been ridiculously busy, but mostly with boring things like chiropractors and haircuts and orthodontists and Target and bra-shopping. Oh, the bra shopping. I opened an Angels card yesterday. I can see this being a problem.
The highlight of the trip home (flew out of Heathrow a day before the attacks were supposed to happen) was when the lady checking boarding passes on the way into the security line tried to confiscate my Burt's Bees. I mean, she did confiscate my Burt's Bees after I'd asked her whether it was okay to take on board (the AA website had said it was), but then she didn't throw it away so much as leave it on her desk where I could see it shrinking in the distance, and when I nearly started crying (it had been a pretty emotional morning, saying goodbye to Lui and all), my dad went back and got it for me. I put it in my bag and the actual security people either didn't see it on the x-ray, or didn't care. The other highlight was the irony of one of the people operating the x-rays being a middle-aged Arab man, beard, turban and all. Ah, racial profiling.
It's not as weird to be home this year as it was last year, which is weird in itself because last year was a vacation and this year is kind of permanent. I haven't seen any of my friends yet though, and I think what shocked me most last summer was how little their lives had changed while mine was progressing so rapidly. So it may get there yet.
I've been seeing a chiropractor as of yesterday, and he's promised that he can help fix my digestion problems and my infertility problem. I think I'm going to like this. Like, a lot.
Oh, and I didn't tell you, Libertine, that the dreaded thing happened: Lui accidentally clicked on the wrong bookmark and stumbled across my blog. He knew it existed, he knew where it was, he'd just always told me he had no intent of reading it, which allowed me to write things I wouldn't necessarily tell him. But he landed on it, so he read the last entry, the one about Sex & the City and like all of my exes and how they still play into my life... It was bad. But not as bad as it could've been. But still pretty bad, and I got to tell him all sorts of fun things like how he betrayed my trust. Usually when we argue, it's my fault. So I guess this was a nice change.
That's about it for now. I've been ridiculously busy, but mostly with boring things like chiropractors and haircuts and orthodontists and Target and bra-shopping. Oh, the bra shopping. I opened an Angels card yesterday. I can see this being a problem.
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