Diaries I Read:
So, I had a lot more to say yesterday about my weekend but didn�t get very far in my entry because I got sidetracked by all things stressful in my life. And things stressful seem to be multiplying by the minute; B just called me to say that ANOTHER recruiter called him today about a job, and they asked him to come in for an interview right then and there. So he put on his suit, drove down there, and interviewed, and when he got home they called him to start talking salary and stuff. That�s just moving a little too fast for my taste. BUT, B said that the salary range they�re talking would be enough so I wouldn�t even really HAVE to work if I didn�t want to. Wow. BUT, on the other hand, he�d have to work out of their office occasionally (who knows how exactly that translates) instead of strictly working from home like he does now. So I don�t know. I just don�t know. It�s all too much for me to handle at the moment.
OK, so back to the weekend. On Saturday night we ended up �going out for a quick drink� with our neighbors, Paul and April. We�ve been out with them once before and hung out at their house once, but we really don�t know each other all that well. I knew we were going to a country bar, but I wasn�t expecting to find them both dressed in Wranglers, cowboy boots, and cowboy hats for the evening. Of course, my little Texas boy could�ve gone country as well � he has the tight jeans and boots and hat too � but luckily he went Californian for the evening.
The only way that I can describe the bar we went to is that it was a real live �shit-kickin� bar.� It was filled with real live cowboys and cowgirls. (I have no idea where they came from.) One older couple was in full costume � matching white outfits with red sequined fringe and sparkly silver boots. There was a lot of big hair and tight pants. The most tacky thing there was a woman wearing a black tank top with her pack of cigarettes shoved in between her boobs. It was quite a scene. There were also lots of old guys � men in their 70s, at least � there in full Western garb dancing with all of the �pretty� girls. They were actually quite a kick to watch, and they were pretty good dancers, and April was telling me about this one man in particular who is always always there. We got to talking about him, and Paul seemed to think that it was sort of sad, this old guy spending his time in the same bar, night after night, dancing with various girls. He thought it was sad because he figured the guy�s wife had died and he was alone with nothing better to do. I said that maybe his wife hadn�t died, maybe he was just a jerk and she�d left him. Then we couldn�t decide which case would be sadder. And then we contemplated going up to him and asking him, �So, are you a jerk or did your wife die?� And then we decided that those words should be turned into lyrics for a country song. (After thinking about it a little more, I don�t think he�s a guy to feel sorry for in either case. I mean, obviously he�s out doing what he enjoys. At least he�s not sitting at home watching �Cops.� How can you feel bad for a 70-year-old man who spends his weekends dancing with girls 40 years younger than him?)
But interesting characters aside, I didn�t actually find the evening fun. Maybe I just wasn�t in the mood; I don�t know. I did not fit in there, and I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. I�m sure nobody there even took a second glance at me or cared what I looked like, but I just felt out of place. And I knew that B thought the place was really cool. I knew it probably made him feel right at home. I wanted to like it there because I knew he liked it there. He was all excited about going out and two-stepping with me, and I went along, but my heart was not in it. I really just wanted to go home.
I felt uncomfortable in my own skin there. And actually, it�s been a while since I felt like that. It almost took me back to my college days, back to the frat parties where I�d stand against the wall, desperately wanting one of those frat boy retards to come talk to me but also terrified that one of them would. I felt like I was back in those days when I stood around, self-conscious, thinking that all the other girls were prettier, sexier, more fun than me. I don�t know why I felt that way. It�s actually pretty stupid.
Anyway. But I did get into a conversation with April about weight and body issues, and she revealed to me that she�s had liposuction twice AND a boob job. (I had been wondering about her boobs � they�re huge!) I�ve never met anyone who�s had liposuction, at least not that I knew of. And interestingly, the issues she had that led her to liposuction are exactly the same issues that I have. She said it was the most painful experience of her life, but that she�s thrilled with the results and it was totally worth the pain and money. I have to admit, it got me thinking. But just for a minute. I don�t think I�d ever do something like that, no matter how much I might want to.
We ended up staying out until 1:00 AM, which annoyed me because we were supposedly just going out for �a little while� and I had to get up early to run the next day. I think I was also feeling aggravated with the situation because I only drank two beers and was completely sober, whereas B and April had had much more and were feeling very happy (Paul was driving). You know how that goes.
So that was Saturday. On Sunday, a birthday party for a kid across the street turned into a block party for what seemed like everybody in our neighborhood. The kids had a bounce house/water slide that looked like an accident waiting to happen as kids slipped and slid all over the place, and the adults sat around drinking beer and trying to keep from melting.
It was a good time. You know what�s funny, though? Apparently B and his trampoline accident are quite legendary in our neck of the woods. It�s not surprising; it�s the kind of thing that I think hits home with people because they realize it�s something that could so easily have happened to them or one of their kids. Anyway, people that I�d never met before were asking how B was doing and telling me how concerned they�d been for us when they heard what�d happened. One lady who I didn�t know told me that she�d seen us out for a walk a week or so after the accident and had been so relieved to see that B was walking. I guess it�s kind of cool that so many people were concerned. But I think it�s also just one of those stories that people like to talk about. At any rate, I did find it a little strange that so many people I�d never met seemed to know so much about us.
That night we went to see The Bourne Supremacy with our running friends, J and C (who I�ve mentioned before; J has also been referred to here as J-Boy). The movie was really good, but I do recommend watching or re-watching the first one before you go see it. I felt like I spent a good deal of the movie trying to remember exactly what had happened in the first one. Then we went out for dinner at a very nice Italian restaurant. I had a hard time choosing what I wanted and finally decided to take a walk on the wild side and order shrimp and lobster ravioli. Bad choice. Ugh, that stuff was really fishy and nasty. I felt bad, like it was my fault for just making a bad menu decision. B and J-Boy tried it too, though, and told me it tasted bad, like the fish wasn�t fresh. I�m really not one to send something back in a restaurant, and it was sort of too late to order something different, but I�m telling you this meal was gross and I wasn�t going to eat it. So I told the waitress, who we had the last time we ate at the restaurant and who was really annoying and incompetent and awkward, and she took it off the bill. She offered to bring me something else, but I decided I�d just get dessert. Hee. So I had some scrumptious flourless chocolate mousse cake with vanilla and raspberry sauce and raspberries on top that was to die for. Mmmmmm.
But I found myself aggravated Sunday night, too. Which makes me think that I was having an off weekend. But really, the company was kind of annoying because I felt like I could not have a decent conversation. First of all, J-Boy and C are notorious interrupters. I think it stems from the fact that they don�t listen to each other and they have three little kids who they�re always trying to yell over. They interrupt each other and try to talk over one another constantly, so they�ve started doing it with other people too. I felt like every time I tried to say anything, somebody started a different conversation entirely or made some smart comment that totally undermined any real point I was trying to make. A whole evening of that gets really old really quickly.
So now I�ve whined and complained about my entire weekend. I think I will whine and complain some more. Last night I got home and B was working on his final project for school (which is due tonight) with his friend Dan. He acted like he was too busy to even acknowledge me, which peeved me but I let him get away with it because I knew he was under a lot of pressure to finish his schoolwork. So I went upstairs and got out of their hair for a while, and then I came downstairs to find the two of them sitting around with 11 empty beer bottles all over the place! Oh, but they didn�t drink ALL of them, they said, one of the neighbors came over and had a couple too. As if drinking lots of beers and being social with your neighbor and acting like you can�t be bothered by your wife is better than drinking lots of beers alone and acting like you can�t be bothered by your wife. Sheesh. But like I said before, I�ll forgive him because he is under a lot of pressure � all the things that are stressing me out are probably stressing him out ten times more.
Tonight after work I�m going out with my co-worker, Queen. We�re going to get our nails done and then go see The Notebook. You know what�s funny? Queen is not very popular around the office; lots of people have issues with her and have had problems with her in the past. I�ve never had a problem with her, probably partly because I don�t allow myself to get involved in petty crap at work. But I have to say that I have allowed myself to be influenced by the people around me, and I�ve avoided really becoming friends with Queen because other people don�t care for her. But the thing is, I like her. Like I said, I�ve never had a problem with her. So I finally decided to cut the crap and go do something social together. She�s desperate for friends, and so am I, frankly, so why not give it a try? I think we�re going to have fun. I�ll let you know.
PS, I'm trying to change my template, obviously. Don't worry, I won't leave it looking like this. I hope.
Working at home - Wednesday, Nov. 17, 2004
Toronto - Tuesday, Nov. 16, 2004
On the way to Toronto... - Tuesday, Nov. 09, 2004
A Good Day - Monday, Nov. 08, 2004
Another letter - Thursday, Nov. 04, 2004