Friday, December 03, 2004

Advice

"Is it tacky to make address labels for xmas cards?"

Absolutely not. It's a great time saver and makes the post office very happy. It's what my mother does. So you know it has to be acceptable.

I personally like handwriting mine because I like writing out each person's name and noting all the different places where I send holiday cards. But that's just a personal quirk of mine.

The Night Muppet Met Matt Damon

Muppet and Mr. Muppet went to Peter Luger's with Brother Muppet this past Monday while Brother Muppet was visiting New York for the holidays. He's from Washington state and was enjoying the utter fabulousness of the New York atmosphere.

While outside and about to go into the restaurant a black escalade pulls up and Matt Damon gets out. Brother Muppet gets excited and points this out to Muppet and Mr. Muppet. They make a note of him and go in. Brother Muppet stays to introduce himself. "Hi, I'm Brother Muppet." "Hi, I'm Matt." *handshake* Good times. Then Brother Muppet holds the door open for Matt. And in his excitement to follow Matt in, Brother Muppet steps on the back of Matt's shoe and trips him. Luckily Matt only stumbles and does not actually fall down.

Then, in the restaurant Matt comes up behind Muppet. And she just backs right up into him. Poor Matt. Beaten up by the Muppets. He takes it all in stride and everyone goes off to have dinner in separate rooms. Matt, of course, was seated first.

After a lovely dinner Matt and a companion come in to the room in which the Muppets are dining and talks to someone at another table. The Muppets are done and getting ready to leave and Brother Muppet decides he needs a photo. Matt is very gracious (and possibly inebriated) and poses for the photo. Then, he heads to the rest room. Where Muppet is standing. And walks right by the men's room and heads for the ladies. Muppet very politely points out that he might not want to do that. "Uh, Matt, that's the ladies room." He makes note of that and then asks Muppet if she'd like to join him in the ladies room. She points out that her husband (Mr. Muppet) is right there so she's going to have to say no. And then the Muppets depart. And as wonderful as Mr. Muppet is, we all wish for a moment that Muppet was not married. So we could have an even better ending to this tale. 'Cause come on, who wouldn't do Matt in the ladies room of Peter Luger's if the opportunity just presented itself? Right?

Note: Apparently Mr. Damon is quite good looking and taller than expected in person. In case you're interested in that sort of thing.

I'm Okay. Really

People are very sweet. The seven or so of you who read this and worry. I'm not losing my mind or anything. I'm just a little frustrated and overwhelmed. But I'll be okay. The emails and kind words were very sweet and greatly appreciated though.

This blogging thing is kind of weird to me in it's one-sidedness. People read this and know what I've done during the week or what mood I'm in or what random thoughts are going through my head. And they'll refer to it or send me a sweet email or taunt me about the Red Sox or something. But it's not knowledge they gained from a conversation so I don't necessarily know how their week is going or what they're up to or thinking about or feeling. And I feel horribly self-absorbed and selfish then. Because I am a dork. It just kind of throws me. I'm used to being observant and while I babble a lot I don't really talk about meaningful things or useful things about me. I don't think. So I'm used to knowing lots about OTHER people and feeling a little like people don't know about me. But here, I go on and on and on and on and on and on about me. And people read it. And then things seem reversed. Which is kind of the point. I started this as a writing exercise and a way for me to be a little bit more open about myself. Because I feel like I close myself off to most people who aren't my parents. And I don't know how healthy that is. Plus, I am rather in love with myself so the hearty dose of narcissism involved in personal blogging (and blogging in general, really) makes me happy.

Anyway, just wanted to let you all know that I'm stressed and busy and a little frustrated, but doing okay and managing to get things done (if not ALL things done) and having a good time as well. Thank you very much for your concern.

Thursday, December 02, 2004

Frustration

So. I made a metric ton of fudge last night. Well, figuratively. I did make a lot though. Seven or eight pounds of fudge is a lot, right? Anyway, I made it and am happy. Because it's December 2nd and my holiday baking (though technically fudge making isn't baking) has begun. And I have my Christmas Cards purchased. And am making progress with my to do list. Woo. Now I just need to write my damn Christmas Letter. Maybe I could just piece something together over the past year of blog entries...

ARGH. I'm just so knotted up and stressed right now and amazingly enough none of it has to do with the holidays. Well, aside from the fact that all the work and other assorted stress is taking away time and energy that should be going into my big holiday fun plans. I really wish I knew how to manage my stress better and not let it get me all knotted up. I guess it's not even stress. It's more frustration. With things I have to do and shouldn't have to do. With incompetence at work and elsewhere. With having to do unpleasant things. When really all I want is to be on a beach in Hawai'i singing Christmas songs with friends and family. And so I just let it build until I kind of hate the world and feel stressed and tired and frustrated and in the mood for nothing. Which makes me even less productive than I normally would be. Bah.

I don't know. I'm a mess. I should just eat some fudge.

Wednesday, December 01, 2004

No Nudity Burlesque

Apparently, I feel safer with my attack cat on my pillow, wrapped around my head. I figure she'll see the imaginary spiders first and kill them and I will be all better. You'll all be relieved to know that last night, after an initial bit of mild hysteria, I calmed down and slept just fine in my bed. With no spider attacks. And eventually allowed my attack cat to roam around the apartment on her own. To pretty much attack the non-attack cat. Poor non-attack cat. Though, actually, the non-attack cat will sometimes attack the attack cat. So she can hold her own.

Ugh. I will not be that girl who babbles about her cats. Any more than I already have.

Last night I went with Muppet to see a performance of the dance troupe she works with. Which was interesting. But first we went Christmas Card shopping (yay, one thing to cross off the to do list) and got me some sassy and some sedate cards to send out this year. Muppet was amazed at how much I'm willing to spend for my Christmas fetish. And I sorta felt a little embarrassed about it. But whatever. I love doing the cards and letters and getting them and the holidays and tra la la la la. Then we grabbed dinner and off to The Slipper Room for the show.

The place was really cute. Small stage but a fun atmosphere. And we got a table right in the front. For the Burlesque. Sadly, there were no boobies. There seems to be a trend in New York lately of not so sexy and/or not so naked Burlesque. Burlesque with a statement. Which I guess is sorta what burlesque does, with the mocking and the funny. But there should be naked and sexy along with it I thought. Maybe not. Or maybe it's just the people I know who do non-naked, not so sexy burlesque. I don't know. ANYWAY...

Some of the pieces were ones I saw back in March. Some were new. And like when I saw this group in March, some of the pieces I liked, some I did not and most were a little on the odd side. They did a Twister themed dance that was okay, but I LOVED the costumes for it. Made completely out of ribbon, tulle and Twister games. And there's one with a french song and lots of hand gesture stuff that I kind of like. There was one that I found interesting. To the song that goes, "If I knew you were coming, I'd've baked a cake, baked a cake, baked a cake..." They started out in ruffled bottoms with bread roll bikini tops. They put crisco and eggs and flour and water all over themselves and in a bowl, made dough, took off their tops (facing AWAY from the audience), covered their breasts with dough and lay back down in the positions they started in. Anyway, I had a fun time with Muppet and am glad I went. Even if sleep probably would've been the wiser plan for the evening. But hopefully that will be tonight. After the to do list and possible fudge making...

Tuesday, November 30, 2004

I Hate Spiders

So, last night. Found Gray Hair #2. It was in my hairbrush after my shower. Taunting me. Just sitting there all silvery and evil. It's waiting to be taped up next to Gray Hair #1 on my desk. I was very upset. Rightfully so. And still am. Any day now my skin will shrivel and I will be an old, gray-haired, wrinkly fat woman with whom no one will ever sleep again (not that anyone has ever slept with me before now, Daddy). A gray hair on my 30th and now another one just five months later. This is NOT a good sign. It's going to be all gray in no time. With wrinkles and liver spots and arthritis. ARGH!!!! My teeth will fall out in 2005 won't they? I tried to express my extreme unhappiness to Turnip and my Mother and they were not really sympathetic. So I eventually logged off and went to bed to dream of the topless boys from my new obsession, the telenovella. Don't judge me. I'm old and gross. And tired.

See, I fell asleep last night around 1AM. Despite the gray hair never having sex again (I mean ever and not again, Daddy) stress. But was awakened at 2AM on the dot. I'm not sure what woke me up, because I don't remember hearing anything or having any kind of a dream before the spider. But I sort of woke up and saw a very large (tarantula sized but not hairy) red and black spider with rather pointy looking legs. It was dangling right by my head, dangling from a thread attached to the top bar of my canopy I think. I'm not sure. It was very dark and I was asleep. I didn't freak or scream or run from the room, which is my normal reaction to large bugs within 10 yards of me. I did quickly and efficiently get out of bed and turn on the overhead light, rather than reaching past the spider and turning on the light right by my bed.

Now, I'm pretty sure this wasn't a real spider. I've never seen one like it. It did have a bit of a horror movie special effect quality about it. It's winter and too cold for spiders. I think. I've never seen a hairless spider that big before. I've NEVER seen a spider that big and right in front of me outside of some kind of science experience. Also, my initial reactions were far more rational and dreamlike than I normally behave. The first, and only, time I saw a mouse in an apartment of mine I freaked to the point of going to a friend's place for the night. The shrieks from when I saw a cockroach swimming in my bath with me could be heard from several houses away. Pumpkin (or was it Tangerine?) still laughs about this time she was with me when I saw a cockroach and freaked out beyond all reason. So getting out of bed all calm and such is NOT me. Not real me. It's more dream me. Also, I could see no evidence of a web anywhere in my apartment and found no evidence of a thread or web or anything on my bed frame that could've been supporting a spider right by my head. And, I couldn't see the spider anywhere. The cats didn't react at all to any of this. And they LOVE bug chasing, especially DKE.

I had mostly convinced myself that it was a dream spider and was about ready to try and get back to sleep. And then I noticed how gross my Barbie's hair was. I have some silk leis, tae kwon do ties and a South Park Kenny doll (killed by hanging) hanging on the bars of my bed's headboard (for lack of a better word). And a Barbie. Long story. But I picked her up to look at her nasty hair and pondered throwing her away before bed when I noticed something in her pleather skirt. At first I thought the fabric was aging weirdly. Then I realized it was an insect sack of some kind. I don't know anything about bugs & spiders other than hating them so I have no idea if it was moth sack or spider egg sack or what. I don't know how old it was, though it was dry and flat and I think older rather than newer. But that just sent my mind reeling. What could it be? Could the giant spider have emerged from it? ACK!!!! Dude, I basically then called my Mommy. Which kind of helped, but not entirely. So, I curled up on my couch. And read. And freaked out a little. And freaked out a lot when DKE suddenly acted interested in some imaginary nonsense under the couch. And didn't really fall asleep again until about 6AM. And now, I want to cry. Or take a nap. Or both.

PLEASE do something to reassure me that the spider wasn't real. I really, really want to sleep in my bed tonight.