Sorry it's been so long since I last updated. I'm sure you've all been on pins and needles waiting. (Right?) Let me start by saying, for those of you who were wondering about the retreat, it was good. I still have a job and we've collectively decided to hit the "Reset" button and being anew. (Not sure if that can really happen in a workplace, but I'm taking a chance.) I've struggled with wanting to write something about the retreat, but truly, it was so good, it'd be boring to write about. So, I'm going to try something else.
Last year when N was preparing to move all the way across the country, she invited me up to L.A. to go through her books. (One of the many things N and I share is a love of books.) I picked through them all, taking the ones I wanted (and the ones that were mine that I wanted back). In the end, there were so many that I couldn't possibly schlep them home with me on the train. So N kindly boxed them up for me and sent them UPS. One of the books that either I picked or N just threw in was this "Be a Bad Girl" journal. I thought since I can't seem to come up with anything interesting to write about I'd do one of the exercises in the journal.
Help me find my inner bad girl?
As an aside, before I attempt to discover my inner bad girl, I have to tell you something about the 2 boxes of books I received at my doorstep last year. Thinking I already knew what was in them, I let them sit for a good few days before I actually opened them up. In one was a very sweet note from N saying how much she loved me and would miss me. I cried. In the other box, right on top, was a copy of Dr. Laura Schlessinger's book "10 Stupid Things Women Do to Mess Up Their Lives" with a note taped to the front cover which said "I know you hate me, but read me!!! I noticed you left this one out..." She's a sneaky one, that N.
Anyway, back to discovering my inner bad girl through journaling. Here's the exercise; I'm supposed to try and lose my good girl virginity (Oh, if they only knew...) by listing and describing which of the following I've done:
1. Used an alias? Nah, not my style. I don't think quickly enough on my feet to come up with an alias. Best alias ever? Anastasia Beaverhausen.
2. Acted on a wild impulse? How do you think I ended up in Tahoe? My move to Tahoe was by no means planned beyond, "Hey, S, let's move to Tahoe." Eight years later...
3. Ignored the rules? Again, not really my style. I am a total rules follower. I always cross at the intersection, only with the light (I've been hit, people.) I brush my teeth twice a day (mostly). I try not to talk on my cell phone in elevators. (Oh! Coming home from Boston I totally forgot to turn off my cell phone. I was appalled at my flagrant, even if accidental, disregard for that rule. For all I know, I could've brought that plane down!) You get the picture, I'm a rules follower. Now, as I said before, if your asking about those lame dating rules. Those I do not follow. And perhaps this is why I'm still single.
4. Jaywalked? Good lord, no. See above.
5. Indulged my desires? Who hasn't? Check.
6. Challenged an authority figure? Why do you think my Dad did the dance of anger? Check.
7. Bought expensive, impractical shoes? No, but I did just spend an awful lot of money on bras. I cannot even admit here how much it was. It was a lot. (But! They are the foundation garment! And, the store I bought them from will resize them for free when the band gets stretched out. Plus! One of them is GORGEOUS.)
8. Said "no!!"? Totally. Many times. Check. Check.
9. Called in sick and gone to the beach? Yes, once when I still lived in Tahoe. And because I am such a rules follower, I was too guilty to enjoy the day off. Damn, me. Check.
10. Shopped shamelessly? See #7. Check.
11. Mastered creative parking? Yes, and every time I have, I've gotten a parking ticket. Check.
12. Practiced random acts of exhibitionism? Yes, and I have the topless photos (with a boa!) to prove it. Check.
13. Borrowed my roommates clothes? Well, given he's a man, no. But previous roommates? Hell yeah! That's a given. You don't have to be a bad girl to borrow your roommate's clothes. Check.
14. Stolen kisses? How does one steal a kiss? So, I guess not. I have been known to get drunk and make out in public.
15. Had casual sex? Maybe, once or twice. Perhaps.
16. Had black-tie sex? I'm not even sure what the eff black tie sex is? Is it sex after a formal event? Formal sex? Was I tied up with a black tie? I don't know.
17. Been a social stalker? Who me? I may have stalked a person or two on Facebook. What of it?
18. Accumulated vices? All manner. Check.
19. Made crank calls? Not since I was in middle school. But, check.
20. Gotten booty-called? Yes. And I answered. Again, what of it?
21. Worn stop-traffic sexy clothes? Probably not. I don't think I could pull it off. I am many things, some may say sexy, but I don't think stop-traffic sexy clothes are in my bad girl future.
22. Made out at work? Embarrassingly, yes. It was at Harrah's. And those of you who know me from there, don't bother asking, 'cause I'll never tell.
23. Worn invisible underwear? Does this mean go commando? If so, yes, all the time. I am wearing invisible underwear right now. Check.
24. Been a bad influence on friends? Probably. No specific instance comes to mind...
25. Danced naked in front of a mirror? Yeah, but only if I'm home alone. Hee hee. Check.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
You Can Do Anything
I've always believed that I have a sixth sense. I'm no fortune teller, I've got no crystal ball; but every so often an energy just comes through so clearly, with such strength, and such force, that I know that something has happened before anyone even tells me. That's how I knew S had died before I even picked up the phone that day.
It was the weirdest thing. It gives me goose bumps even now, more than six years later. It was a Tuesday afternoon. I was at work. We had caller ID and I saw a local number come up. Although I didn't recognize the number, just seeing it, I knew something was wrong. And when I picked up and K said "Hello" I just knew. The only part of the conversation that I remember clearly was me, saying, "Please. Please, just don't tell me what you're about to tell me. I don't want to know."
S was only 30. Less than a month shy of her 31st birthday. But let me tell you, that girl lived more in her almost 31 years than most people will live in 70. It was like she knew.
We met in high school as freshmen. We didn't become close friends until our sophomore year when we both started working at the Tummy Stuffer at the same time. We got into so much trouble at work together. They started scheduling us different shifts.
Senior year, S and I liked to ditch school together. (Which was so pointless, seriously, we only had morning classes, but whatever, we were young and dumb.) We were both suffering from broken hearts at the time. We had each been unceremoniously dumped by the loves of our lives. We drove around town in her red Toyota Celica listening to Sinead O'Connor singing "Nothing Compares 2 U"over and over again, crying our little broken-hearted eyes out. I'll never forget the time we actually ditched by walking right out the front door of the attendance office. We couldn't believe we weren't caught, though the campus narc had chased us all over campus. (We even sought sanctuary in the library, where we were kicked out because we didn't have passes.)
Shortly after high school, my parents split up. Since at 18, my life as I knew it was over, I did the only thing I could think of, I moved out. S and I got a place together. Oh my God. We were so excited. We felt so grown up. (I remember the first time we paid rent. Neither one of us had ever held that much cash at once. We threw it up in the air and danced around in it.) We paid all of $495 a month for a brand new 2 bedroom apartment, with a full size washer and dryer. (Un-freaking-believable. I pay more than twice that now for half of a 2 bedroom apartment.) Since the apartment was brand new it had some minor electrical issues. We blew every fuse in the place. They put us up in a model apartment for a night while they fixed ours. Somehow, we managed to flood the model apartment.
Our poor downstairs neighbor. He had a wife and two young kids, and the unfortunate luck of living below a couple of teenage girls in their very first apartment. When we got too out of hand G would bang on the ceiling with a broom. I don't think he was too happy when a couple of guys serenaded us right in front of his kids' window. (I hate that I can't remember who they were. I hate that I can't call S and ask her to remind me.)
A couple of years later, S and I moved to Tahoe together. It was an impulsive move. I had never even been there before. S, as always, led the way. We moved in with a gaggle of girls neither one of us had ever met. Let's just say it was a learning experience for both of us. We had agreed to live in Tahoe for a year. I ended up staying the better part of eight. S, even longer.
Throughout my years in Tahoe, S remained the constant in my life. Through countless boyfriends, roommates, jobs. We weren't always close, we didn't even speak every day, but I always knew she was there. Tahoe is such a transient community, it was nice to know I always had someone on my side.
Like the time when I was in Davis, 4th of July weekend, having a nervous breakdown for many, many reasons. S drove all the way down to get me.
Or the time I got hit by a car in front of Harrah's. S drove me to the hospital. (I was too afraid to get into the ambulance. I didn't have any health insurance. I could only imagine how much that would have cost.)
S and I always had a motto. We could do anything; anything we wanted to. Nothing was impossible. She subtly reminded me of this when I got accepted into Davis. I called her, all excited, and she was just totally blase about the whole thing. Like, whatever. When I asked her "What the hell? Aren't you excited for me?" She said, "Of course you got in. I never thought you wouldn't. You can do anything."
The summer before S passed we were both living in Southern California. I'm so glad I got the chance to spend some time with her. We hung out many times over that summer and I cherish those memories. The last time I spoke to her was my birthday that year; well, really a month after my birthday. She never could remember whether my birthday was in September or October.
I still don't know how or why, when I got that call on that Tuesday afternoon in December, I knew that she was gone. To be honest, I thought it was a car accident. Turned out S had a brain tumor. Luckily, it happened quickly, though. She went into the hospital on a Friday afternoon and by Monday night she had passed. I miss her terribly and think about her each and every day.
It was the weirdest thing. It gives me goose bumps even now, more than six years later. It was a Tuesday afternoon. I was at work. We had caller ID and I saw a local number come up. Although I didn't recognize the number, just seeing it, I knew something was wrong. And when I picked up and K said "Hello" I just knew. The only part of the conversation that I remember clearly was me, saying, "Please. Please, just don't tell me what you're about to tell me. I don't want to know."
S was only 30. Less than a month shy of her 31st birthday. But let me tell you, that girl lived more in her almost 31 years than most people will live in 70. It was like she knew.
We met in high school as freshmen. We didn't become close friends until our sophomore year when we both started working at the Tummy Stuffer at the same time. We got into so much trouble at work together. They started scheduling us different shifts.
Senior year, S and I liked to ditch school together. (Which was so pointless, seriously, we only had morning classes, but whatever, we were young and dumb.) We were both suffering from broken hearts at the time. We had each been unceremoniously dumped by the loves of our lives. We drove around town in her red Toyota Celica listening to Sinead O'Connor singing "Nothing Compares 2 U"over and over again, crying our little broken-hearted eyes out. I'll never forget the time we actually ditched by walking right out the front door of the attendance office. We couldn't believe we weren't caught, though the campus narc had chased us all over campus. (We even sought sanctuary in the library, where we were kicked out because we didn't have passes.)
Shortly after high school, my parents split up. Since at 18, my life as I knew it was over, I did the only thing I could think of, I moved out. S and I got a place together. Oh my God. We were so excited. We felt so grown up. (I remember the first time we paid rent. Neither one of us had ever held that much cash at once. We threw it up in the air and danced around in it.) We paid all of $495 a month for a brand new 2 bedroom apartment, with a full size washer and dryer. (Un-freaking-believable. I pay more than twice that now for half of a 2 bedroom apartment.) Since the apartment was brand new it had some minor electrical issues. We blew every fuse in the place. They put us up in a model apartment for a night while they fixed ours. Somehow, we managed to flood the model apartment.
Our poor downstairs neighbor. He had a wife and two young kids, and the unfortunate luck of living below a couple of teenage girls in their very first apartment. When we got too out of hand G would bang on the ceiling with a broom. I don't think he was too happy when a couple of guys serenaded us right in front of his kids' window. (I hate that I can't remember who they were. I hate that I can't call S and ask her to remind me.)
A couple of years later, S and I moved to Tahoe together. It was an impulsive move. I had never even been there before. S, as always, led the way. We moved in with a gaggle of girls neither one of us had ever met. Let's just say it was a learning experience for both of us. We had agreed to live in Tahoe for a year. I ended up staying the better part of eight. S, even longer.
Throughout my years in Tahoe, S remained the constant in my life. Through countless boyfriends, roommates, jobs. We weren't always close, we didn't even speak every day, but I always knew she was there. Tahoe is such a transient community, it was nice to know I always had someone on my side.
Like the time when I was in Davis, 4th of July weekend, having a nervous breakdown for many, many reasons. S drove all the way down to get me.
Or the time I got hit by a car in front of Harrah's. S drove me to the hospital. (I was too afraid to get into the ambulance. I didn't have any health insurance. I could only imagine how much that would have cost.)
S and I always had a motto. We could do anything; anything we wanted to. Nothing was impossible. She subtly reminded me of this when I got accepted into Davis. I called her, all excited, and she was just totally blase about the whole thing. Like, whatever. When I asked her "What the hell? Aren't you excited for me?" She said, "Of course you got in. I never thought you wouldn't. You can do anything."
The summer before S passed we were both living in Southern California. I'm so glad I got the chance to spend some time with her. We hung out many times over that summer and I cherish those memories. The last time I spoke to her was my birthday that year; well, really a month after my birthday. She never could remember whether my birthday was in September or October.
I still don't know how or why, when I got that call on that Tuesday afternoon in December, I knew that she was gone. To be honest, I thought it was a car accident. Turned out S had a brain tumor. Luckily, it happened quickly, though. She went into the hospital on a Friday afternoon and by Monday night she had passed. I miss her terribly and think about her each and every day.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Zac Efron and I: 17 Again!
Seeing old high school friends has a way of making you feel 17 again, right? Sometimes in good ways. Sometimes in bad ways. Yesterday, I experienced both.
The day started out great. I got to see one of my very best high school friends for the first time in at least 10 years! C and I were inseparable for a good chunk of our high school days. Especially senior year and the summer before. That summer, each morning, the first one awake would call the other to discuss how we were going to spend the day. Usually that meant driving around in her CRX listening to Journey, trying desperately to look old enough to buy cigarettes. (We thought if we carried car keys into the mini-mart it would make us look old enough. Generally, it worked.) Then we'd lay out by the pool at my house. Or hang out just watching TV and talking until we had to go to work. We even worked together that summer, at Domino's Pizza, as "phone girls". (Hee hee. I try not to think about the things I saw at Domino's that summer when I order pizza from there.)
After we graduated, C went away to school, while I stayed closer to home for a while. We stayed in touch and had a brief reunion when we both lived in Tahoe for a time. (She even worked at Harrah's too!) But after she left Tahoe, we lost touch, until she found me on Facebook a few months ago.
Yesterday, finally, after months of trying to get together, we met up for lunch. We had the best time! It was like no time had passed at all. Her kids (6 and 3) were looking at us like we were crazy, but we were screaming and laughing like a couple of teenagers. (By the way, her kids? The cutest ever! So sweet. Her 3 year old daughter even let me hold her hand in the parking lot on the way to the car. Which made me feel better after my visit with J and her son last weekend. Granted, he was sick, and I have cut my hair, but shortly after my arrival J's son asked her where the "other" Miss Moo was. Hmmph.)
My visit with C is the best of what Facebook can be for us oldies. Reconnecting with a long lost sister. I had thought a couple of hours would be plenty of time for our reunion, but 4 hours later I was totally running late for Reunion Saturday: Part Deux; my friend K's wedding.
K and I were sort of tangential friends. You know the kind, where you sort of run in the same circles but not exactly on purpose? I was always closer with her sister, H. But K and I had our friend S in common. S and K were best friends since childhood and S and I became close in high school when we worked together at the Tummy Stuffer. (I moved to Tahoe with S a couple of years after high school. Sadly, S passed away 6 years ago. We all loved her dearly, and she is well and truly missed. Now that I think of it, she deserves her own entry, and I will definitely get on that soon.) Later on, after high school, K and I were roommates for a few months when I first moved back to Southern California. We didn't exactly end our living arrangement on the best terms, but when S died we made our amends.
Anyway, K and I reconnected on Facebook. (Where else?) And she was kind enough to invite me to her wedding. She didn't say if I could bring a date, so I braved it on my own. I had no idea what to expect and I was running late after my reunion with C. I arrived after the ceremony, hoping to sneak in to the reception, but K saw me and the first thing she said to me? "You missed the whole thing!" Whoops.
While it was good to see K, (she'll never change, she'll always be a little bit bossy) there were a couple girls there I had not expected to see at all. (Here comes the part where feeling 17 again can be not so good.)
I'm running out of initials for this unexpectedly long-winded and complicated entry, so let's call these girls X and Y. X and Y are sisters. X was in my graduating class, Y, the class ahead of ours. I also worked with Y at the Tummy Stuffer. (My very first job, it was a sandwich and yogurt shop. Worked there for 2 years. I loved it. It was kind of the cool place to work back then. Owned by a really young guy, managed by an even younger one. They only hired cute girls to work there, so when I got the job, I felt pretty cool.)
X was always kind of a mean girl in high school. She had this way of looking at you and just cutting you down without saying much of anything at all. She was popular and considered pretty, although, I always thought she kind of looked like a pug, with her face all smushed in. (P.S. It still is all smushed in.) Y was the nicer and the prettier of the two. And remains so to this day.
X was such a bitch to me last night. I couldn't believe it. I walked up, said hello, and gave her a hug. What did she do? Walked away. I felt so small, like an unpopular teenager. The whole night, while the rest of us high school classmates caught up, X completely ignored me. Y was lovely, and totally caught me up on what she'd been up to these past 20 (HOLY CRAP!) years.
What Y didn't tell me was this juicy little tid-bit that someone else passed along last night. (I feel a little bit bad posting gossip on the web, but seriously? I have maybe 4 readers here. And only 1 of you will have the slightest clue what I'm talking about.) Turns out that 4 years ago? X and her high school boyfriend had an affair! They're both married, with children, and I know it's horrible, but can't I feel a little bit of schadenfreude at this???? Both spouses apparently found out, but I guess both couples reconciled.
Anyway, so I felt all insecure and teenagery last night. All because some stupid girl, who by the looks of it, is just a miserable person, didn't talk to me. I guess I'm over it now. I can't help but wonder what I ever did to her. I can't even remember the last time I saw her, and I'm fairly certain we were friendly in high school. Oh well. Thank God I'm not 17 again; 36 is so much better.
The day started out great. I got to see one of my very best high school friends for the first time in at least 10 years! C and I were inseparable for a good chunk of our high school days. Especially senior year and the summer before. That summer, each morning, the first one awake would call the other to discuss how we were going to spend the day. Usually that meant driving around in her CRX listening to Journey, trying desperately to look old enough to buy cigarettes. (We thought if we carried car keys into the mini-mart it would make us look old enough. Generally, it worked.) Then we'd lay out by the pool at my house. Or hang out just watching TV and talking until we had to go to work. We even worked together that summer, at Domino's Pizza, as "phone girls". (Hee hee. I try not to think about the things I saw at Domino's that summer when I order pizza from there.)
After we graduated, C went away to school, while I stayed closer to home for a while. We stayed in touch and had a brief reunion when we both lived in Tahoe for a time. (She even worked at Harrah's too!) But after she left Tahoe, we lost touch, until she found me on Facebook a few months ago.
Yesterday, finally, after months of trying to get together, we met up for lunch. We had the best time! It was like no time had passed at all. Her kids (6 and 3) were looking at us like we were crazy, but we were screaming and laughing like a couple of teenagers. (By the way, her kids? The cutest ever! So sweet. Her 3 year old daughter even let me hold her hand in the parking lot on the way to the car. Which made me feel better after my visit with J and her son last weekend. Granted, he was sick, and I have cut my hair, but shortly after my arrival J's son asked her where the "other" Miss Moo was. Hmmph.)
My visit with C is the best of what Facebook can be for us oldies. Reconnecting with a long lost sister. I had thought a couple of hours would be plenty of time for our reunion, but 4 hours later I was totally running late for Reunion Saturday: Part Deux; my friend K's wedding.
K and I were sort of tangential friends. You know the kind, where you sort of run in the same circles but not exactly on purpose? I was always closer with her sister, H. But K and I had our friend S in common. S and K were best friends since childhood and S and I became close in high school when we worked together at the Tummy Stuffer. (I moved to Tahoe with S a couple of years after high school. Sadly, S passed away 6 years ago. We all loved her dearly, and she is well and truly missed. Now that I think of it, she deserves her own entry, and I will definitely get on that soon.) Later on, after high school, K and I were roommates for a few months when I first moved back to Southern California. We didn't exactly end our living arrangement on the best terms, but when S died we made our amends.
Anyway, K and I reconnected on Facebook. (Where else?) And she was kind enough to invite me to her wedding. She didn't say if I could bring a date, so I braved it on my own. I had no idea what to expect and I was running late after my reunion with C. I arrived after the ceremony, hoping to sneak in to the reception, but K saw me and the first thing she said to me? "You missed the whole thing!" Whoops.
While it was good to see K, (she'll never change, she'll always be a little bit bossy) there were a couple girls there I had not expected to see at all. (Here comes the part where feeling 17 again can be not so good.)
I'm running out of initials for this unexpectedly long-winded and complicated entry, so let's call these girls X and Y. X and Y are sisters. X was in my graduating class, Y, the class ahead of ours. I also worked with Y at the Tummy Stuffer. (My very first job, it was a sandwich and yogurt shop. Worked there for 2 years. I loved it. It was kind of the cool place to work back then. Owned by a really young guy, managed by an even younger one. They only hired cute girls to work there, so when I got the job, I felt pretty cool.)
X was always kind of a mean girl in high school. She had this way of looking at you and just cutting you down without saying much of anything at all. She was popular and considered pretty, although, I always thought she kind of looked like a pug, with her face all smushed in. (P.S. It still is all smushed in.) Y was the nicer and the prettier of the two. And remains so to this day.
X was such a bitch to me last night. I couldn't believe it. I walked up, said hello, and gave her a hug. What did she do? Walked away. I felt so small, like an unpopular teenager. The whole night, while the rest of us high school classmates caught up, X completely ignored me. Y was lovely, and totally caught me up on what she'd been up to these past 20 (HOLY CRAP!) years.
What Y didn't tell me was this juicy little tid-bit that someone else passed along last night. (I feel a little bit bad posting gossip on the web, but seriously? I have maybe 4 readers here. And only 1 of you will have the slightest clue what I'm talking about.) Turns out that 4 years ago? X and her high school boyfriend had an affair! They're both married, with children, and I know it's horrible, but can't I feel a little bit of schadenfreude at this???? Both spouses apparently found out, but I guess both couples reconciled.
Anyway, so I felt all insecure and teenagery last night. All because some stupid girl, who by the looks of it, is just a miserable person, didn't talk to me. I guess I'm over it now. I can't help but wonder what I ever did to her. I can't even remember the last time I saw her, and I'm fairly certain we were friendly in high school. Oh well. Thank God I'm not 17 again; 36 is so much better.
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