Oct 26 2004

Kind of a recap, kind of a freak out.

Published by at 1:32 am under Friends,The Fam,Travel

Like I mentioned in my last entry, I went back to my parents house on Saturday to crash and to attend a party thrown by Mackers and her boyfriend.  I didn’t see much of my parents – I basically showed up, BSed for a couple hours, then drove out to Mackers’ house in the next town over while my parents got ready to go eat dinner.  I’d give you a rundown of the party except for two things: 1. I was drinking, so I don’t remember a whole lot of it well enough to recount coherently and 2. Lots of what happened had nothing to do with me so it’s not right for me to give a play-by-play for the internet audience to see.  How mysterious!

I did have a good time, though, and I met some nice people, one of whom was the current fiancee of the guy I dated right after high school. . . which was eight years ago.  This girl made the point of telling me several times that she hadn’t wanted to come to the party because she was so nervous about being compared to me.  To which I nodded sympathetically while inwardly wondering what the hell the big deal was, yo.  It was EIGHT YEARS AGO.  I was eighteen years old – barely old enough to know anything about anything, and I sure don’t count that relationship as one of the BIG IMPORTANT THINGS that happened to me in my life.  Every time she mentioned how nervous she had been I just grew more and more confused.  But, ultimately, she was a very sweet girl and I enjoyed talking to her.  Even if she did twist my mind into knots.

I ended up going back to my parents house at around 2 AM.  I had stopped drinking awhile before, but even so I was freaked out.  Not because I was impaired, really, but because Montcalm County is notorious for the huge amount of car-deer accidents that occur on a yearly basis.  I had managed to never hit a deer in the years that I lived there or at any subsequent visit, and I sure didn’t want to start now, when I’d been drinking all night.  So, it was kind of a tense drive, but I made it, and collapsed onto the air mattress set up for me in the spare room.

The next day my stepdad woke me up at the crack of nine by tearing down the soffit on the house right outside the window of the room I was sleeping in.  Oh. . . the agony of getting up when I wasn’t ready to!  I bummed around the house until about 11ish, got in the shower and got on the road.  When I finally got home the soon-to-be-in-laws-with-three-kids (distinguishable from the other soon-to-be-in-laws who only have two kids or no kids) were there, because The Man was fixing their computer.  And while I really wanted nothing more than to collapse on my bed and sleep without someone pulling a soffit down outside my window, I tried tried TRIED to put on a semi-happy face and play with my soon-to-be-nephews and niece, and talk coherently and not grumpily to my soon-to-be-sister-and-brother-in-law.  Unfortunately, my reserves were already running low and I slipped into semi-snarky once or twice, although I didn’t want to.  It was my demon.  My demon came out and snarked at the lovely woman who knows about herbs and children and to whom I will no doubt be sobbing within the next couple of years that motherhood is SO SO HARD and then she will slap me because she has three kids and I’ll just have the one.

I don’t know what happened in that paragraph, but we’ll ignore it and move on, right?

Let’s see. . . yesterday The Man told me that by following his new diet plan of Eat Less Food, he has lost 10 pounds.  And I grabbed him and kissed him and told him I was proud (and I AM) but inwardly I was whining a little bit that “It’s not FAIR!” because I have been drinking Slim Fast shakes and eating Slim Fast bars for a long time now and I have lost one. single. pound.  That’s all.  I am trying to come to terms with the fact that I weigh 150 pounds and it looks like I will weigh 150 pounds until I get pregnant, at which point I will gain weight until I weigh 200 pounds.  And after that I will just never like the way I look again.  I try not to have weight issues, and most of the time I’m okay with how I look, but sometimes my little weight-neurosis comes out to play.

You know what?  I bet my hair weighs five pounds by itself.  I have a lot of hair.

Oh, that’s totally a joke.  My hair does not weigh anywhere near five pounds.  If it did, I would have cut it off by now and bronzed it to make dumbbells out of.

I just realized that the bastards over at Nextel never called me back to let me know how my credit ended up.  I’m tired of my crappy Sprint PCS phone!  But now I’m pissed at Nextel too!  Where will all my cellular dissatisfaction end?

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