RIP, Bitches

A walkman with this song playing got me through my first cavity filling at the dentist.

This week was not a good one for entertainment icons. First, we lost Ed McMahon. Then, Farrah Fawcett lost her battle with cancer. And now, the King of Pop is dead.

Venturing out

I'm venturing out on my own. If you haven't noticed, Sukie hasn't been posting lately. She's super busy, and I'm not sure when she will make it back over here. I still love being part of The Bitches of Eastwick, and we will keep the blog up. In fact, some of my posts will still be made here. I had noticed that most of my posts were personal, so I'm going to organize! Come see me over at Alex in Eastwick. Oh, and Jessie, I need a new header. ;)

Don't be a Hatersexual

My dad had a request for Father's day this year. He wanted to march in the first ever Pride parade in my hometown. My family still lives there, and I'm the only one that doesn't. This place is not as bad as Eastwick, but it's still in the Bible belt. So, my 60-something raised in the south dad wanted to march. People were very nervous about what to expect. Baptist churches had obtained permits to protest on the sidewalks. In fact, one Baptist preacher was caught on tape trying to get people to follow the parade and taunt people. The police, surprisingly, put him in his place. I noticed that the protesters were very concerned about people getting it up the butt. This kind of freaked me out. In the end, there were around 700 Pride marchers and 100 protesters. I was very proud of my dad and my hometown today. I have friends that have to say things like, "Well, I'm not excusing my dad for feeling the way he does about gay people, but he was raised in the south, and he is from a different generation." You know what? My dad is too, and he wore the most colorful shirt he had today and marched. I don't have any family members that are gay...at least that I know of. My parents just raised us to believe that you should treat people with dignity and respect. It was just a great day, and I will remember my dad marching in the Pride parade for the rest of my years. It just makes me smile.

Highlights from the West Coast

I had to travel for work recently, and these are some of the highlights.

1. It sucks to travel with a ton of people from work. I was ready to go out to eat at some cool local places. For most of my colleagues, this meant going to Applebees. Hmmm. I love sampling frozen, processed food.

2. I stepped out on my shared balcony, and I found a man sipping his morning coffee, while wearing a lady's nightgown. I stared at the view for a minute, and then I went back in. I peeked out of the curtains a few times. Odd.

3. I don't recommend sitting in front of the three year old wearing cowboy boots on the plane. She's a bitch, as is her mother.

4. I also don't recommend sitting behind the two year old screaming her head off. Her mother then decides it's a great idea to give her THREE hard boiled eggs! That child was cutting sulphuric farts all the way to the east.

5. Do not sit with your drunkard of a boss at dinner. He will tell you secrets you don't want to know and stare at your breasts.

Weight Loss Challenge

It's almost over. I have 7 more pounds to take off, and I will have reached my goal. It's taken me awhile, but I think that's a good thing. It took me a long time to put the weight on, so it shouldn't just fall off of me. I've noticed that it's easier to get ready in the mornings. I don't have to dread going into the closet and not having my pants fit. Everything just fits. Also, I'm not so damn uncomfortable in this heat. First of all, I have never been and never will be the girl that has thighs with that little air triangle between them. Mine touch. I think this is natural. At least now I don't feel like I'm going to start a forest fire, if I wear corduroy pants. See, all of the swishing...and the chunky legs...you get the picture.

I'm trying to change up my exercise routine. I like to run, and I like to use the elliptical. I'm trying to do a little cross training. I bought some new music.

Tell it to my Heart by Taylor Dayne (yes, I'm admitting it)
Some Sugarland song (they're kind of interesting)
Vintage No Doubt (excellent)

Any other suggestions?

Dr. Jerry

You know how you have lots of teachers, and then there are a few you remember? Dr. Jerry was one of mine. He taught me freshman biology, and I was terrified. I was an Arts major, and science was not for me. On the first day, we filed into the huge auditorium, and The Grateful Dead was playing. I couldn't tell you what song it was, but he would change it up a bit. Sometimes a little David Bowie would be playing. There were over 100 students in that class, and I just knew he would never know who I was. By the second week, he knew my name. He also knew I was struggling in the lab that was taught by a TA. How in the hell did he know that ? He cared. I was so terrified that I was going to fail biology. I didn't think I was capable of understanding anything related to science. Dr. Jerry tried his best to change that for me. He would meet with me in his office and go over the lab for that week. I would cry sometimes because I was 18 and didn't want to let everyone down. He would calm me down and start again. I didn't make an A in Dr. Jerry's class, but he didn't care. He was truly more concerned with me enjoying science and knowing that I was capable of understanding it.

Dr. Jerry died recently. He left behind so many loved ones. I never told him how much it meant that he took the time to just know who I was. I never told him that I appreciated the time he invested in me. I haven't thought about Dr. Jerry in awhile, but I cried at this news. His students meant something to him, and I hope he knew that he meant something to us. So, Dr. Jerry, I want you to know that, "When I had no wings to fly, you flew to me." Peace.

Monday Morning Madness

I woke up this morning and was dashing around the house at top speed. I hate Monday mornings. I ran by the television, and I heard Poison playing. I ran back, and I saw Bret Michaels being clotheslined by part of the set at the Tony Awards. My first thought was, "What in the fuck is Poison doing at the Tony Awards?" My second reaction was to laugh so hard that I think I peed on myself a little bit. I know you've probably seen it, but I just coudn't keep my mouth shut. Here it is. The only thing left was a straw cowboy hat from 1983 and a few strands of acrylic hair weave. So sad.

This I Believe...

The This I Believe project is very cool. If you have never heard of it, please click the link and read. I had to write one of these for an organization that I do some volunteer work for. I sat down to write it, and I had no idea what to say. I looked up, and I saw a picture of my beloved doggy, NJG. Some of the long-time readers probably remember when my dog died of cancer a few years ago. I was devastated. I've never loved anyone like I loved that dog. She was just very special. I thought I would share my This I Believe statement with you.



I believe in trust.

During my second year in college, I met my best friend. NJG was a terrier mix, who I found at the local animal shelter. She was shaking and thin when I met her. I took her home, and I had no idea how my life would change.

It wasn’t long before NJG stopped shaking and became my constant companion. We would go on long hikes throughout the South Carolina and North Carolina mountains. Something would pass between us during those hikes. It was not anything I can even give a name. I wanted to let that “something” in. On one of our hikes, some friends were trying to convince me to rappel off of a mountain. I was terrified. What if someone did not tie the ropes correctly? What if I did not secure myself before beginning my descent? The “something” that had passed between me and my beloved puppy took a hold of me. As I allowed a friend to prepare the ropes, I looked down and saw that NJG was sitting at my feet. I knew what she wanted. My friend strapped her to me, and we both rappelled down the side of the mountain. We were a sight, me with my teeth chattering from the fear, and my sweet puppy with all four of her legs sticking out stiff and straight.

Years later I found out that NJG was suffering from Mast Cell cancer. I was going to lose her, and it was going to be fast. I looked around my home, and I noticed all of the photos and memories that surrounded me. By my bedside table, there was a photo of NJG bounding through the waves at The Isle of Palms in South Carolina. She had no fear. It was just trust. In my home office, there was a photo of her staring happily into a sunrise in Boone, North Carolina. Again, there was no fear. It was just trust. Had NJG, who started out as my shaky and thin companion, taught me how to trust? She had.

As her days with me began to slip away, I wondered how I would ever be able to cope without her. During her last week, we had started to take afternoon naps together. I would pull her close to me, and I would fall asleep to her soft breathing. The “something” I had felt in the woods that day came over me again. It was trust.

X-Files

My x-files have been closed for a long time. The x-husband showed up at my office today. He works for the same employer, but our offices are located in different places. Anyway, he shows up to talk. I don't talk to him...ever...so this was weird. He sits down and says, "I'm getting married on Saturday, and I wanted to know if you had a reason that I shouldn't." My response was, "No." He went on to talk about how he wasn't sure, and he wishes things had worked out with us. I wanted to know what marriage he had lived in because the one I had been in sucked ass. I told him that everyone knows how wishy-washy I can be about decisions. I followed this up by saying, "Divorcing you was the one decision I have made that I never waivered on, and I never regretted it." I got up and went to a meeting that I was running late for. Oh, he asked me if I was going to call "her" and tell. I don't even know who "her" is, but I wouldn't do that. That's "her" shit to deal with. What the fuck is wrong with him? Now I'm stuck working with this dumb fucker. Ladies, be so careful of who you marry.

Neighbors

I bitch about my neighbors a lot on here. Kelly posted an entry the other day that reminded me of my old stomping grounds. When I entered grad school, I had NO money. My parents were kind enough to help me out with rent, but it wasn't going to be much. I really wanted to live by myself because I knew I would be studying around the clock. Plus, sharing a bathroom with someone you're not sleeping with or related to just sucks. It was the late 90's, and I had $200. Not only did I find a kick ass place to live by myself, I also had money left over. How, you ask? I lived in the ghetto. It was the old people ghetto, and it fucking rocked. The projects were across the street from my place, and it was always hopping. There would be slews of octogenarians around the laundry area and scattered throughout the porches. Some of the people I met through school were scared of my place. There was no reason. I would come home from a long day at work and school, and I would know the color, make, and license tag number of every car that had even thought of slowing down near my place. I couldn't even get out of the car before one of them was shuffling over there to give me the dirt. It was fantastic. It did suck when the grandkids would visit. They would come over and ask if I had cable. I'd just tell them that my mom wouldn't let me have visitors. They went away. I did have a crack whore knock on my door in the middle of the night. She needed a ride to pick her kid up. Being the kind hearted dumb ass that I am, I took her. She was terrified of my sweet doggy, so I insisted that she come too. My dog sat in the front seat and would growl at her every few minutes. Do you know she actually just needed to pick her kid up? I didn't get mugged or beat up. Poor crack whore just needed a ride.

Now, I live in a nice neighborhood, and I can't seem to get the stupid fucking assholes next door to understand that it is unacceptable to sit in your driveway with music blaring at 2:00 in the morning! That's ok, though. I'm sure they didn't like it when I leaned out of the bedroom window at 6:30 in the morning with my megaphone. Rise and shine, motherfuckers! I miss the projects.