Help - I'm stuck.

Harry left yesterday to do a week-long (weekend-included) detail in Whothefrickcares, WV and now I'm all by my lonesome. 

So far on this Friday of Loneliness, I've learned:

1. Three-day-old Fettucine Alfredo does not stand up well to microwaving.   The resulting cakey goo would be better suited for replacing mortar in most brick and mortar houses, leaving only the slight smell of cheese for the inhabitants.

2.  Reading the end to a wonderful book that evokes tears upon the flipping of its last page is never a good idea to the perpetual lonely ones.    But, if you're feeling brave, go buy "Love Walked In" by Maria De Los Santos" and try NOT to sob a bit - k?  Unless you're made of stone (or three-day-old fettucine) and then - never mind.

3.  Have a plan in mind for the dinners to come so that you don't end up sitting in your kitchen, hastily typing on your old laptop and wondering if a Cherry Pepsi and a handful of nuts could really constitute enough for a "dinner."

4.  Be well aware that the weekends of weekends past that seemed to speed by on a dead-heat race to end will now mock you cruelly as Friday night seems never-ending.  

5.  Coming home to a dirty house that could be dusted, cleaned, straightened, mopped and vacuumed is really not worth the time it would take away from moping.  :)

                                           

                                   (oh yeah - and now I'm eating a pot pie!)

 

 

The term "Waiting Room" should be called "The Impatient Patient Room"

I went today for my Wisdom Teeth extraction consultation and, once I found the darn place (stupid piece of sh- shoddy circuitry GPS, Gross Piece of -uh- Crap) I walked up to the sunny receptionist and noticed that her desk - was plywood. 

This can mean one of two things.
1.  The oral surgeon undercharges which means YAY for my wallet
2.  The oral surgeon's attention to detail is not very - uh - detailed.   Which frightens me and my "sockets."

"We're on an hour wait time..."  the woman said apologetically and, as all smiling people tend to do, she won me over. 

I settled into an uncomfortable seat, pulled out my wonderful book "Love Walked In"  (No, really - it's great - you'll love it - go get it! The rhetoric alone will make you love words like you've never loved them before! Ahem...) and started to read.

And that's when the Patients from Hell entered.   Straight from the movie "Idiocrasy" a large woman in unfortunate jean shorts and Nike's from 1989  loudly entered the area and was followed by a tiny girl and a matching tiny boy.  A small child blathered between them and I started a bit when I noticed that oh my heavens that was their daughter.  Yup, the youngin's had sprouted a youngin.  I doubted that their combined ages could have compared to my 25+5 years. 

I decided to ignore them for dwindling on the unfairness selection of life and the unfortunate dying out of Natural Selection was too much to bear witness to in the waiting area of an Oral Surgeon.

"Hey you!" 

Uh - apparently I would be called to witness after all..

"Hey you!"  The jean-shorted lady wiggled a dirty (ew.) tissue in my direction to get my attention.   I looked up at her and said, "Yes?"

"Who you here to see?"  she rolled in her seat so that she was leaning in my direction.  I tried not to stare at her oddly tinged hair or the balloon tattoo that snaked up her ankle that bore at least ten names.  Coldness washed over me as I realized that the balloons, the fleshy, multi-colored balloons, bore the name of her offspring and that this woman, this woman of unfortunate dress and manners was single-handedly (well- almost) trying repopulate the earth.  Or WV at least.  

"Dr.  Gonnapullmyteefers," I said.

"Yeah.  He just left for lunch," she said and then she sat back and waited.

I'm not sure for what.
I guess I was supposed to have some sort of violent reaction but all I could think was "Man's gotta eat."

I blinked at her and she went on to assault the woman to her left.   "MAN!  This weather does a number on my sinuses.   My whole body really." And damned if she didn't run a reddened hand down the front of her to caress her frontal regions. 

An hour and a half later I'm finally in the big dental chair.

"Thank you for waiting," my tall dark-skinned doctor said to me in a soft and kind voice. 

"No problem," I said.  "And I expect a discount," I added in my head.

After the exam and his decision to only remove one of the three useless teeth that grew in my mouth, we talked about birthdays and it turns out he was also born on September 11th. 

"I can't really celebrate my birthday on September 11th," he said with his middle-eastern tinged voice and with a small smile on his face.  "People see me walking around, smiling, on September 11th and think 'TERRORIST!'" 

I didn't want to laugh - but it was pretty damn funny and after being accosted in the waiting room by a tatooed earth re-populator I was overdue for a laugh.  


So - good news:  I only have to have 1 wisdom tooth out of the three removed.

Bad news:  I have to have 1 wisdom tooth out of the three removed.



                                 Young Holly is not happy about upcoming oral surgery...

aoljpictureUpload, aoljpictureUpload_1

Surprise! My husband's a sneaky lil' bastard....

I awoke on the morning of my 25+5 b-day to the feeling of a man hand stroking my back and sleepily muttering "Happy Birthday... Happy Birthday... Happy Birthday..." Which, of course, is wonderful, but maybe not at 4:30am, hm?
Soon after the alarm goes off and I pop out of bed only to be accused of being the bestower of bad dreams as I had apparently forced Harry out of my life and into a studio apt in Boston in one of his few and far between dreams of active over-imaginationland.

Then comes a long day of phone calls and meetings which finally ended with me feeling very much my newly acquired 30 years.  

I went home, piled on some more eyemake-up in attempt to look more awake at dinner and dragged myself to Harry's car.   He'd already made us late by forgetting to lock the door and  having to go back and do it again and then he was pulling up in front of "Blackhawk" (hee hee) and taking his time parallel parking.  

I snapped.  "Oh forgodsakes!  Go up there! Park up there!  No wee-wawing into a space just GO UP THERE!"  Which he did since I was the birthday girl of cheer (or something).

We walked into the restaurant and ran into our neighbors and chatted for a bit while Harry kept tugging on my arm.  Seriously - if my purse would've been heavier I would've socked him with it.  Repeatedly.  And with chubby-girl gusto.

Finally the hostess takes us through the front room, the second room and kept walking to the back room. I was BEYOND annoyed.  There were PLENTY of other seats in the other rooms where I could sit and eat my bday steak but NOOOOO lil' miss "I buy my pants at the kid's store cuz my ass is THAT tiny" had to take us all the way to the BACK.

Harry lagged behind and as we stepped through the threshold I noticed my very tall friend Mike standing there.   I turned around to ask Harry if he knew Mike and Meghan were going to be here when the ENTIRE ROOM ERUPTED INTO SONG and pretty much added another twenty years to my already aging heart.  

As my closest friends, family and loved ones sang me a "Happy Birthday" - I just kept repeating "Well - HI!"  
I was shocked.
I think I almost ran at one point.
:)

We ate like kings, made fun of each other, ate some more and had a wonderful time.

Apparently Harry had been planning my Surprise 25+5 birthday since June.   He had a cake made from my favorite local baker (with 25+5 on it) and special menus at each place setting (with 25+5 on them).  My steak was like butter, my cake was like a dream, and my Harry was the man of the hour.

A sneaky lil' bastard of a man, but still...


                  (This is the front entry of Blackhawk)

aoljurlAdd, aoljurlAdd_1

XXX Things to do Before I Turn 30 - RECAP

Three years ago I posted a "must do" list on this exact blog.

Here it is, and on the eve of my 30th birthday, I provide updates!

Things To-Do

(Before I’m Thirty!)

1. Learn to play a musical instrument (a tambourine does NOT count)

-->Okay - I learned three chords on a baby blue guitar and promptly forgot it - but i counts - right???

2. Learn to speak a foreign language - conversationally

-->um, Three years is a really short time to learn the language of a whole other culture...

3. Own at least one pair of shoes that are comfortable at all times.

-->I own six!   My Coach Valeri ballet flats are so great that I own two pairs of each style!

4. Be able to shop at a grocery store without fear and anxiety of produce and soccer moms.

-->I still maintain that grocery stores, and their ever-increasing size, are scary places to go alone...  One can get lost in the frozen foods section alone!

5. Find that perfect shade of lipstick.

-->Kat VonDee from "Miami Ink" (tv show) came out with a line of cosmetics and a perfect shade of rust that worked with my lighter and now my darker hair!  Score one for Holly!

6. Learn yoga.

-->I did pilates. Once.

7. Read at least one best-seller a week.

-->Meh. Maybe one a month!

8. Designate one corner of one room as "all mine."

-->I took the third floor instead.  Booyah!

9. Write a book.

-->Wrote, re-wrote, started, re-started and re-re-wrote...   I'm too picky...

10. Learn to burn a dvd.

-->I haven't yet, but I know I can.  Same difference.

11. Learn to work my pink Ipod Mini.

-->Got a new one and stuck my pink mini in the bottom of a deep, dark drawer.

12. Learn to knit/crochet/needlepoint - and have end results recognizable.

-->No, but I just bought a new sweater!

13. Grow a tomato.

-->I had some home-grown tomatoes the other day.  With home-grown worms in them.  I'm good for a bit...

14. Figure out what I want to be when I "Grow-up"

-->A fairy princess?

15. Watch the Indiana Jones movies.

-->I now completely see the draw of Harrison "I'm a hottie with no shirt on" Ford.

16. Be able to wear a tank top in public without fear of others seeing my jigglies and jubblies.

-->Nope. I just don't care if my jigglies and jubblies are seen now.  

17. Go to <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />London - see Big Ben.

-->Nope.  So sad.

18. Pet a koala bear.

-->A stuffed one?

19. Volunteer.

-->I do stuff for my mom for free all the time.  That's GOTTA count for something...

20. Make Harry Kirby, a cartoon based on my hubby, into a real comic strip.

-->I made Harry a Harry Kirby for our anniversary.  Good 'nuff.

21. Quit my job.

-->oh HELL YEAH I quit that job!!!!

22. Find a new job that doesn’t require an IQ in the gray area to exceed at it.

-->I'd be doing a lot better at my current job if my IQ was a little higher and my memory was a little longer and my patience was a lot longer...  :)

23. Paint a mural on a wall in my house - make sure hubby is still breathing - finish said mural.

-->I painted three bricks of color on either side of my fireplace.   I think that counts!

24. Face a fear (ex: heights, falling, grocery stores, organized fun, wal-mart, spiders, bees, lawn-care…)

-->I may have faced a fear or two - but I'm not sure if any of them are worthy of blog-time...

25. Learn to make my own pasta.

-->Go to grocery store.   Avoid Soccer Moms and Cart-toting Grannies.  Grab pasta from shelf.  Run through Uscan.   Run like the wind!  :)

26. Learn to bake a cake - from scratch.

27. Learn to decorate a cake - with all the tricks and tools of the trade.

-->I can now bake a cake from scratch - but I don't see the point.   And as for icing it - it's never been easier: "Harrrrrrryyyyyyy!  I neeeeeeed your hellllllllllllp!"

28. Learn to do crosswords - without cheating.

-->Why on earth did I find this important???

29. Watch at least one foreign film a month.

-->I watched "The Dreamers" the other night. It was shot in France.  There were a few subtitles and a bit too much genetalia for a normal film that didn't have Jenna Jameson on the cover!

30. Learn to be happy with who I am, ‘cause I am what I am ( Popeye?)

-->  Still working on this one.   Maybe by the time I'm forty???

 

:)

 

Happy Hollydays and Hollyweek to meee!

Today is the Sunday before my birthday which means that I get allllll this week (up until Thursday) to be alllll about me!

And I'm starting it off with ordering something from this fun website!

Perpetualkid.com!  I love it!

I like the smelly pencils, the PlayDoh cologne and the men with balls magnets!

AND I like the toast clock, too!

This place is too fun (even if it wouldn't let me paste pictures into my blog!)

Any suggestions as to what else I should order?!

Happy Hollydaze!!!!

Drive me Crazy(er)

It happened again.

I didn't want it to.

But it did.

And there I was, standing in the middle of a showroom floor, surrounded by high end cars and smarmy men wearing matching polo shirts, and wishing I was anywhere else.  The corvettes gleamed, blue ones, yellow ones, convertibles and coupes, all waiting to be purchased, driven, cared for and buffed to a high-gloss shine.

Harry lovingly stroked the hood of a bright yellow Z06 and, while I stood, feeling like a bull in a china shop, he asked to drive one.

Ten minutes later we were given a white corvette that was very un-Z06like and told to "have fun."  As soon as I slid my hefty butt into the car I knew that "having fun" was not going to be achieved.  The car smelled.  It was like someone threw up after drinking one too many Pina Colodas and the coconut-vomit smell still lingered.   As we pulled out of the lot, the smell seemed to intensify as a new annoyance presented itself.

The gear shift rattled.

This poor car, with 8,000 miles on it, was now a sensory assault weapon.

Twenty minutes later, we arrived back at the lot and I rolled out of the car, both hands on my throbbing  head. 

"How'd you like that?"  The salesguy asked.  "Pretty smooth, huh?"  I shot him a look that should've equaled instant death but was deflected by his teflon-like coating of smarminess.

Needless to say - I will not be looking at any cars for some time. 

Which, for those of you who know me and my husband, should equal out to about a week or two.

:)  Hope everyone's weekend is going better than mine!

Our Song(s)

Harry and I have been together a little over eight years now.  And with that time comes love, devotion and - of course - a song that has to be designated as "our song."
About three years into our loving relationship (maybe more, maybe less - I dunno - we're going on a decade here, folks!) I looked at Harry and pouted as I'm apt to do when I want something (dessert, sex, dessert sex, or, ya know,  a pony) and said "I'm sad."
"What is it, my darling?  What do you want and what can I do for you, my utterly wonderful princess-pants?"  is what he SHOULD HAVE SAID, but instead muttered, sweetly, "Oh dear lord, what now?"
"We don't have a song.  That's sad. Here," I said and reached for the knob on the instrument panel.  "The next song that comes on will be our song.  Forever."  I smiled and clapped my hands like a trained seal.
"This is our song?" he said, doubtfully as the music filled the cab of whatever vehicle we had at that time (I can't keep up - we've had more than Jay Leno at any given time).
I tilted my head, squinted my eyes and hummed along like a Maestro at a concert hall.  "Yes.  Yes, this is perfect."
"So... Marilyn Manson's 'Tainted Love' is our song?"
"Yes, darling.  Isn't it romantic?" I trilled.

But I was only fooling myself - we'd had a song way before that.   And my bestest bud since I was a mere toddler found a new version of it - it's BEAUTIFUL! I mean, it's no "Tainted Love" but it's still prolific, ya know?