Oh Birthday, My Birthday

Yesterday was my Birthday!*pauses to let the raucous applause die down*

It all started on Friday. With money in my wallet there were two things I needed to do: put gas in to Big Red and buy groceries. I prayed the whole way home because my gas light came on when I pulled into work that morning and it hadn't occurred to me to fill the tank before heading home. Coasting up to the pumps, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief and then wept silently as I watched the digital numbers climb without shame.

I made it to the grocery store and what do I see but a woman standing to the side pleading with this ugly man. Tears streaming down her face, she tells him that she tries not to think about him with "her" and all these other women but now she can't. Now, she's the one suffering. She's the one that gets physically ill. She's the one that isn't getting any sleep. He gives her an icy glare and tells her that she knew how it would be and things won't change.

Their preteen daughter knows enough to not look and the little boy in the cart is now begging his mama for a kiss. She wipes her eyes, sees me staring, and casts her eyes back to the ground. I've seen it before. I lived it when I was the preteen and Nat was the kid in the cart. You could say I stalked them around the store but really I was just keeping one eye on them and my thumb on speed dial.

I raced home with a to-do list as long as Denny's schlong . This is where I should put the story of how I got things done. What really happened is that I sat on my ass, made myself a cup of peppermint cocoa and read a book. It was a really good book too.

Saturday I woke up and gave myself the gift of bangs. Then I did some baby shopping.

To start off right, I got myself a peppermint latter and slice of gingerbread. The fine barista let me know that my coffee would be at the other end. I opened my mouth to speak and she cut me off with, "It'll be at the other end". Closing my wallet, I set my copy of the baby registry down and she asked me if I needed help reading and understanding it.

I'm sure she meant well. Right? That's the approach I took because it's my birthday weekend goddammit and I'm not gonna let some coffee whore mess it all up. At the other end of the counter, my latte appears but not my gingerbread. Barista bitch gets a scowl from coffee-blending girl; I win.

I encountered the slowest cashier in the Midwest who said that she couldn't adjust the registry because she was "new and no one had ever shown her how". When I advised her to read the portion of the registry titled "Cashier Instructions" for help, she informed me that she wasn't sure she had the authority to do this kind of thing.

Me: "Thing like what? Read?"

The baby shower itself was a success. I won prize and acted like I had won a prize. Which to those of you who either a) don't win many prizes or b) don't appreciate a hard-earned win would look like I'd just struck oil by turning on a faucet. I was super excited. In ways that only a photograph could express. Thankfully, there are none.

I breezed out of there and got all dressed for the zoo. Our zoo does a fantastic lights display and the trip was free (for me) and so I gleefully spent 2 hours trekking through the cold, blowing snot sickles, and not seeing any animals. Then Mom and I watched Eclipse. The best part of the movie was when Bella cut her arm in attempt to keep Edward from being destroyed and Mom said, "Jesus! You tell this chick one Indian tale and she thinks she's Sacajawea". I died.

Sunday, I got up and took myself to a posh brunch and got an invitation from mom for dinner. I accepted and was starting to get ready when I got a text from my friend Paige. She was 20 weeks pregnant and had just
 found out last Thursday (12/2) that the little bean inside of her was going to grown into a baby boy. We were all ecstatic for her and loved the way that she announced it: by sending us all a link to her ultrasound that she had posted on Vimeo.

But yesterday, I got this message:
"I don't know how to say this. I'm in the hospital and lost my baby due to a ruptured amniotic sac. I wish I were dead."

I stopped and I cried.
A couple of hours passed and I finally went off to my own birthday celebration. I went to the pub where we met striped-shirt Steve. Apparently, there was some band playing but I promise you they weren't good. Nat and Mr. T surprised me with a chocolate cake that was topped with enough candles to violate all sorts of fire codes and I got to eat my name right out of the center.

Thankfully, I had the foresight to only drink the free shots. Otherwise, right now, I'd be fucked.

P.S. - I know that I owe you four more days of the meme and I promise to get back to it at some point. Maybe. I'm not exactly known for finishing things.

Update: I ended the night with a pizza dog (a hotdog - cut down the center - stuffed with pepperoni and then WRAPPED IN A SLICE OF PIZZA AS A BUN. The epicocity of it all is unreal. And while you think that should have been an easy choice to make, I had to turn down the "Cheezus Crust" aka a grilled cheese sandwich using pizza for bread. Then there's the Baby Cheezus, it's half the size but just as "blasphemalicious". Ha! Good times.

You Will Never Guess What I Saw! - A Collection of Short Stories

"A Whole New Meaning"

I was talking with my sister about the latest craze in abbreviations: SMH. She told me that she discoverd what it means... by way of a customer in her store.

She was talking to one of the girls she works with while putting away shoes. "Grace", she said, "do you know what 'SMH' means? It's all over Facebook". Before Grace could answer a customer was like "Smuh? It's Smuh, like ugh! You use it the same". Everyone in the store is trying to suppress their giggles while Grace subtly enlightens them both, "Sweetheart, it's Shaking My Head".

Luckily, the customer got a laugh out of it himself. But *our* new thing? Girl, it's Smuh!

"Shimmy with me Africa!!"

Friday was Mrs.G's birthday and to celebrate she invited us girls out for sushi. The restaurant and atmosphere were fabulous. I knew this in advance so I figured that I would dress accordingly. Black dress with bright red accents. Plus my stunner studs! You already know.

After dinner, we trekked to a delightful spot called Level. When you go there at night in the spring and fall, they take all of the panes out of the windows. It's so chic!

We go upstairs and a very obviously gay man (who was so sweet and deliciously fun) was giving me the eye. I wave and apparently that opened the gates to hugs, European kisses, Latin dancing, and yes, a shimmy. He was so great and even nicknamed me "Africa". I heart you, Brian from L.A.

"Street Walker"

I spent a ton of Saturday night hoofing it around this fair city. I had forgotten how much I loved the lights, the energy, and the hustle of the people until I set out to each new destination. I was on my way back to my car when I realized that I was no longer in the Stilettos district and I was firmly planted in Birkenstock district.

It was fun to have the locals eye me with jealousy, wondering which fabu party I *must* be headed to. I loved the way the men stared as I passed them leaving the deep scents of chocolate, white peony, patchouli and vanilla behind me. I loved the glares from the other girls covered to their flip-flopped toes in over sized sundresses.

I... almost broke a heel. Apparently, they don't believe in repaving the sidewalks out there in the Birkenstock district. Gravel reeks havoc on the balls of ones feet and munches a stiletto's heel to dust. But that's OK because before the night was over I got a "Oh my gosh! How are *you* doing?". Who cares if he never calls, that guy made my night.


"Don't Be a Slave"

Once a month, Big Poppa and I will go to the comedy club for some laughs. This past Wednesday, we did our usual do. He wore dark jeans, a lavender shirt, and gorgeous crocodile shoes. I wore an orange ruched dress, new turquoise baubles, and my killer J. Simp gold paintbrush platforms. We looked stellar as always.

Side note: Whenever I'm with Big Poppa I feel like a rockstar. He never hesitates to tell me how beautiful I am. It helps, of course, that I put my best foot forward and aim to make the other guys jealous, but it does help to know that he appreciates it.

The show was hilarious and we had a great time. He learned the art of getting cheap drinks and I learned to keep my mouth shut when women walk by in horrendous outfits. I mean, seriously!

One woman wore leggings (as pants!) that had cut outs in them from her ankle to her thigh. Really? Really?!? And then she paired it with a t-shirt. Really? Do they not have mirrors where she lives? Did she not pass a pane of glass?

Then there was the frumpy mother. Or grandmother. Or spinster more likely. She's a plus-sized girl like myself. But when I want to step out, I pull something spectacular from my closet, usually purchased from SizeAppeal.com. Sheeeee wore black gauchos (!), a faded olive green woven halter top that was too big and sagged around her chest and back (ugh!), and black espadrilles (harrumph!). To make it all worst, she hadn't done her hair or makeup. Aaaaaand she had toilet paper on her shoe!

Now I'm a nice person, so I definitely helped her get the toilet paper from her shoe. And I didn't express my concern over her wardrobe choices. But if there were anything at all that I would have said, it'd just be to wear clothes that fit. If you try to hide your body it looks like you're wearing a tent. And then I would slap the shit out of her skinny friend who looked impeccable.

Fiesty Friday

Warning: Today's Post is erratic in style and topics.

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Firstly (and of the utmost importance), today is Rebecca's 9th Birthday! Yaaaayyy!!! This little booger was already counting her birthday text messages at 8:30 this morning. Happy Birthday, Girlie -- here's to you!

Next, I just need everyone to know that I spent an hour last night looking for VitaTops. Why? Because I'm convinced that they are the answer to my snacky prayers. I want, want, want with a burning passion. I want so much that I almost ordered them online before they told me how much shipping would be. I don't want $8 in shipping. So, I'll be scouring the stores again tonight. Only this time, I'll be looking in the organic foods freezer section (like I should have last night).
(yes, please!) Click here to buy

My boss has been extra special. It's as though nobody on the sales team can do anything right. He's just been a down right ass. Hence the picture below.
Yesterday, I wrote an ode to eHarmony entitled "What the Hell - a Poem" because I couldn't get over how horrible some of the matches were that they sent me. But I put it in a helium-filled balloon and let it go. Mrs. G got me straightened out and I messaged two really great guys. *fingers crossed*

Crazy Start to a Good Day

This morning I woke up at 7:18am. Immediately, I panicked. Dragging the dogs around the block, I managed to have them pottied and fed by 7:26 and was in my car and on my way to work just 6 minutes later.

I even put on new deodorant and fresh clothes. My hygiene didn't suffer at all (with the exception of my morning shower, but I always take one at night after working out so I don't think this is going to be an issue).

The only thing I regret is not having had breakfast.

doesn't this look delicious?

Or having had time to pack a lunch. I haven't eaten out in months and I'm not sure if I'm going to pass the test this afternoon. *Pray for me*.

I did call my dad and wish him a Happy Birthday this morning. He was very pleased.

And today is PAY FRIDAY!! I don't think anything bad can happen from here on out. But I'll keep you posted.

Grandma Drama

My paternal grandma's birthday is coming up real soon and I'll be completely honest with you... I forgot. Mostly because she's mean to me and I don't like her. She actually asked my mother once, "Why do you keep bringing her here?". I mean, what am I supposed to do with that?

So anyways, all the years that I've been her granddaughter, I've never actually said Happy Birthday to her. I didn't even know when it was. Believe it or not, it's the same exact day as my Dad's birthday! Ha!

Long to short, Ethan totally remembered. And if he can remember and call her on her birthday, then, of course, I must make it a priority lest I spend the first 3 minutes of our conversation apologizing for my inadequacies as a grandchild.

Well, here it goes... Happy Early Birthday Grandma S!

And yes, I will have the decency to pick up the phone and call you.

WiNter and other things...

Today, when I woke up, there was 2" of snow on my car. So... I didn't exactly need a groundhog to tell me that winter wasn't over.

And last night was the first night I did P90X. Now, most people don't know this but they offer 3 different ways to accomplish the program. I chose the least aggressive: the lean option. It's more cardio than strength training and will give me the lean flexibility that I miss so much. So, about the 1st workout. It was tough. I only got through 40 minutes of Core Synergistics. I will tell you this: it hurt. A lot. My.body.hurts. My abs, back and inner thighs are all aching like they've never been worked out before. I feel completely ridiculous. Soooooo, I'm thinking that P90X is going to take me 120 days before I can do all of the workouts out all the way through with complete energy.

Finally, last and certainly not least. Happy 3?th Birthday to "28"!!! Horray for you!

Most of Them Missed It

The big day - my birthday - has come and gone and this is how it went. I spent the day before wondering if anyone would remember. Some did and sent me wishes early. I was elated to not have been forgotten.

On the actual day, I got obligatory phone calls from family and a couple from friends, but it was the birthday visit that really made me smile. My bestie, Mrs. G, came over and spent some time with me. It was a blast and I was reminded of why I love her so much.

I'm on a few social networking sites. More for the networking aspect than the social one. But with as many "friends" as I have, I honestly was expecting some unsolicited wishes. Now, that may seem silly to you. It seems silly to me, but thus is life. I did get a few wishes. Five to be completely honest and only two, I feel, were heartfelt.

But the worst part is that my sister, Natalie, didn't extend a birthday wish. And neither did any of my going out friends. None of them. Not one. After seven years of knowing them and celebrating every party-worthy holiday under the sun, none of them felt the need to pick up the phone, tap out a text message or even post a message on my social pages.

Nice.

It's Almost Here

I know I shouldn't but I am actually getting very excited about my birthday tomorrow. Since I've lived here, each birthday has involved either snow or ice. The thing about that is it also involves a lot of sliding around in four inch stilettos. I would love to say that tomorrow will involve more of the same, but alas, I don't believe I will be celebrating.

Firstly because I am on a very strict budget that I already violated by purchasing fresh seafood (as a present to myself, you see). Secondly, none of my friends have mentioned doing anything with/for me. There was no office lunch planned by the girls here. They didn't even ask if I wanted to go anywhere. My 'going out' friends and I haven't actually gone out together since the summer. And even that was awkward. Thirdly, everyone has something else going on. Two of my friends have gotten married. One is now engaged. Two have moved back home with their parents. And the rest either have children or we haven't maintained the best contact.

You see, I don't have a Best Friend. You know? That person that picks you up when you fall flat on your butt. Or makes everyday a celebration. I don't have anyone who understands the very essence of who I am and that I know I can count on for any freaking thing.

I want to be sad about it but I can't muster the strength. I'm not generally a selfish person. You can see that I'm making excuses for the people in my life who have obviously forgotten me. But that's ok. Because no matter what tomorrow does or does not bring, you can find me in a tavern on Main Street toasting myself.