Archive | January, 2006

Since I’m already eternally damned..

I recieved this touching email today.

“I would like to introduce myself as Mrs. Fatima Ali, of Repulic of Benin, widow to Late Mr. Usman Ali (for Consular of the benin embassy in Madrid,Spain.I have been recently been daigonosed of Cancer of the Pelvics.

I am writing from my sick bed.”

Cancer of the Pelvics.  That’s the worst kind.
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I’m driving home, and I stop to get gas.  I browse the advertisements around, and they’ve all got the "A New Year, a New You!" theme.  You know the kind.. gyms have it, diet centers have it.. they all want to cash in on your New Year’s Resolution guilt.

But this one was different.

In the "A New Year, A New You!" insert, they were advertising something odd.  A carton of cigarettes.

To each his own, I suppose.
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Because you’ve missed me.

So yesterday, I drove along Mr. PJ for almost three miles.  I was making quite the fool of myself next to him.. picking my nose, acting crazy, just generally trying to catch his attention as we drove to work.  He never once looked over.  He clearly hates me.

Which is fine.  It’s not like he makes me laugh or anything.  It’s not like I LOVE HIM.



Anyway.. I am tired.  I remember, back around Christmas, when Steph was exhausted.  Her whole family was going through the same virus, and BB was cranky, and the WildeChicks met for coffee one morning and she was utterly worn slap out.  I now look at her with great respect, because I have just one sickie in my house, and I’m worn slap out.  And my heart goes out to him.. he’s in the middle of a Lyric show, which is really stress unlike any other in town (unless you’ve done an IMP show), so there’s not time to be sick.  Or weak.  Or tired.  You just have to keep on trucking.  So he comes home and falls out.

But bless his heart.. he was a blessing last night.  He slept in The Boy’s room.. which allowed me a full night’s sleep.  It was GLORIOUS.  Sure, I missed waking up next to him, and he’s currently still curled up asleep.. but I SLEPT FOR EIGHT HOURS STRAIGHT, PEOPLE!!  I am a new woman!

We also watched THE MOST messed up Wife Swap ever.  EVER.  This one family was the saddest excuse of a marriage I’ve ever witnessed.  It was like watching the Real World.. several strangers trying to cohabitate.  Very sad.  It broke my heart.  Bryan and I talked about it for a long time.  He understood it more than most.

It’s true.. sometimes bad things have to happen so better things can find their way to you.

Keboobalah just sent me an email with a bear on it.  He said the bear looked like me.  I don’t find this very flattering.  Although.. the bear was dressed in a deluge of pink, so that might be the similarity.

I hope everyone has a lovely Tuesday!
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See, I’m Smiling

although last night was fun, i’ll be the first to admit that a few things really made me happier than anything else..

there’s a part of the candle parties when everyone goes around the room and has to say how the know the hostess and one nice thing about them. both steph and ra had to say, “well, i knew OF sarah before i actually knew her..” and that tickled me. the other thing? the most common nice thing said about me is that i smile a lot, laugh a lot, and give great hugs.

i don’t know why that meant so much to me, but it did.

thanks to all who came by!

more tomorrow. i’ve got another sunday to enjoy.

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Life may suck, but at least I’m not on Oprah’s couch

So yesterday, Bryan came home during Dr. Phil.  This was ironic for many various and sundry reasons, the least of which being that I felt that, yesterday, we were prime candidates for our own hour of Dr. Phil love.  Regardless, as we sat there in awkward silence, we saw the commerical for the next program on the schedule.  Oprah.  Featuring a very special guest.. James Frey.

Bryan finally spoke.  “Damn.”

And for the next hour, we were glued to the tv.  We watched the ultimate vindication: a liar was brought to jury.  On live national tv.  And it wasn’t just Oprah who got a lick at him.. they also brought on national syndicate journalists, two of whom had already decried “A Million Little Pieces” as a blatant work of fiction.  It was .. for lack of a much better word.. ULTIMATE.

James Frey was visably uncomfortable as Oprah grilled him.  He shimmied in his seat, he fidgeted with his pants leg.  He looked like the 5th grader at the Principals office.  Oprah called him on the carpet about facts that he had, not but a few months earlier, proclaimed loudly to be true, and when he said that he had (maybe.. perhaps) embellished them (just a tad), she said firmly, “No, you lied.  You lied, James.”

And he would nod solemnly.  “Yes, I lied.”

She asked him, “Why?  Why would you lie about that?”

He said something we never expected to hear.  He said something we had read about, something we had seen in action, but had never heard anyone admit to: “I guess, you know, in my head, my idea of myself was greater than my person actually was.”  Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I give you the first poster-child of Narcissistic Personality Disorder.. James Frey.

He said that battling his addictions was difficult.  Well, dur.  Not exactly bestseller material.  So he realized that, you know, in order to cope with the difficulty.. he would lie.  He would blow his everyday occurrences up past the point of reality, just full enough of bullshit that they almost burst.. and then he’d type them up, title the chapter, and call it a day.

And it caught up with him.

Because, you know, the truth usually does.  And what’s, perhaps, the most ironic?  The line that stuck with people the most in his OWN book was this: “Remember the truth, because in times of difficulty, it’s all you have.” 
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