Thanksgiving p.s.

While carving the turkey, Scott asked if we had any Thanksgiving traditions about the bird that he should observe. I said that for most of my life the tradition was not to even have a turkey. You see, my mother doesn't really like turkey. Not even on Thanksgiving. During dinner she said, "Everything was wonderful...except for the turkey. It can't help it -- it's turkey." During dessert she said, "Next year I'll know to skip dinner and just have dessert."

But then again, where the dessert was concerned I couldn't really blame her. She made this cake called Better than Sex cake. Now, I like sex.

A lot.

But, this cake was soooo good I almost didn't want to brush my teeth afterwards because that meant I would lose the taste of the cake.

There are LOTS of times I can't wait to brush my teeth after sex...

I mean, I'm just saying... The cake was really good.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

I have a lot to be thankful for this year... It helps to remember that while getting ready for a day that has not much more purpose than eating to it. And preparing for eating and cleaning up after eating. And for many people, driving far away or flying far away just to eat.

I think it would be much easier if Thanksgiving wasn't so close to Christmas. Thanksgiving is what starts all the hub-bub so rather than actually enjoying the holiday, many of us are grumbling to ourselves that this is the start into the downward spiral which is Christmas.

But, I have a lot to be thankful for so I'm going to try to overlook all of that for a few hours.

I have my husband whom I adore and who mostly adores me. I have my parents, who love and support me and who hopefully will be around for a while to continue to do so. I have so many amazing friends who give me inspiration and help me smooth out the rough edges in my life. I'm working on getting my degree, which is a slow process but maybe one day...

I have a lot to be thankful for -- I can bitch tomorrow. :-)

The LBD

The LBD is the fashion mag term for little black dress. The LBD has long been the bane of my existence. I know (because I am told by fashion mags -- that addiction is subject for some other blog) how important it is to have one. There's generally at least one occasion per year where the LBD will come in handy.

I don't have the LBD.

It's not for lack of trying. But, my shape doesn't really suit the stereotypical LBD mold, so my search to find one usually winds up in tears, tantrums and tirades. Not always in that order. This is generally followed by an explicit promise to myself to begin dieting and/or working out asap. Which is followed by a bingeing experience to comfort myself with carbs. But, moving away from the story at my weekly Overeaters Anonymous meeting... The short version is that my lack of LBD is not for lack of trying.

Yet another event arises where I am in need of the LBD. I go out wearing the proper underwear and set forth with a determined air. I will try on every single blessed LBD in my size in the ladies' formal wear department or die of dehydration trying... I will not overlook something just because I'm sure it won't look right. You just never know. It's time to put this problem to rest once and for all. This is ridiculous. Surely there must be something that isn't just awful.

I managed to find many more LBD's in my size than I was used to. I was pleasantly surprised. I pulled on the first dress expecting the inevitable too tight combined with too loose that is my usual experience in this matter. But no, it was the perfect fit. Flattering scoop neckline with a delicate bow in the cleavage area. Low cut enough to give a hint but not so low cut that I was giving away my family secret. (I'll give it away here -- my bra is heavily padded!) Waist cinched in just enough to be defining but almost immediately flaring back out to an A-line skirt. A-line combined Empire! What a dream! The length was perfect too. Well past the knee but not floor length -- perfect for showcasing some cute shoes to match. I had found my LBD.

And I left the LBD in the store without buying it.

Because it was boring. Really boring. It's a little black dress, for God's sake. It would need LOTS of dolling up to make it work. Colored earrings and necklace and awesome shoes and that may kick it up a notch. Snore... Seriously, I couldn't believe how incredibly boring this thing was that I had always desired to have. Is it always like this? Expectation completely crushed by reality? How friggn' fair is that??

I wound up with black sparkly palazzo pants that I may just have to wear with my bra to the next big event. Maybe I could glue feathers on my bra to spice it up!

Screw you LBD -- I've out-smarted you!

Just caught the tale end of one of my favorite episodes of Sex and the City. The one where Berger broke up with Carrie on a post it note. This was so mind-boggling unacceptable and yet so the reality of what really happens that I had to pull out my raving feminist soapbox from my closet and get back on it and rant for bit...

this rant is actually brought to you by real-life circumstances...

(I was going to use actual names but Scott threw out the chilling reminder, "just use your discretion." Ugh. We all know what that means... Yup, use his discretion.)

A situation came about wherein a female friend was put together with a male friend. No harm, no foul. The female friend was looking for some arm candy to go to an event, the male friend was happy to oblige. Heavy flirting led to another date where the inevitable outcome of booze and more heavy flirting occurred. A good time was had by all. And then the male friend didn't call.

Did not call.

This is where my dusty soapbox starts to rock and sway a bit. Because I'm ranting and foaming -- at men but really at the whole ugly situation to begin with. If there have been a couple of dates between adults of a certain age and there has been some booty that goes along with it, there are expectations that start to develop. It feels like the beginning of something that could be the beginning of something. There is the feeling in the back of a woman's head of a little relief. :::Phew::: I may not have to go out there any more, this guy seems really cool. When there is no call and no clear understanding that this feeling was not mutual... It's a problem.

Frankly, I've been on both ends of this. I think we all have screened calls because we just didn't want to say that we weren't as interested as the other person seemed to be. I've done my fair share of screening in my time and it's the most shameful thing in the world. But can you imagine actually being cruel-to-be-kind enough to actually say, "I'm just not that in to you?" Unless you're part of the 1% of the population who has ever done this, then I'm guessing you can't. Most of us have blamed ourselves and said we weren't ready to be in a relationship or we had to unexectedly move to Lithuania or whatever, if we even gave the person a reason at all. But, I've also been screened. I know what it's like to call. Or not to call but to just not really understand what happened that the relationship ended since you were never told. I mean, closure is EVERYTHING, but I think especially to women. (Well, duh -- of course I think that!)

I would like to start a national courage movement. If you're not that into someone but you were into them enough to have sex with them, call them. Tell them the truth. Yeah, it is hard to be the bastard/bitch who delivers that message -- but realistically, you had sex with this person. They had reasonable expectation that something could lead from that. [important note: I am NOT referring to one night stands. If you met someone and had sex with them on the exact same night then as much fun as that can be, you have NO reasonable expectation that anything else will ever occur. Seriously. That's just stalking.] If you knew the person that you had sex with AT ALL before the night the sex occurred, then you owe them an explanation as to why you no longer want to see them again. It is a hard hard thing. I know how hard it is because I didn't meet the challenge.

But that was before the National Courage Movement. These are different times. Bolder times, stronger times. We have to face our fears and just dump like grown-up responsible people. In the long run it will make for much easier, simpler times. You don't have to carry the guilt of knowing that you disappointed a fellow human without giving them a reason why, your fellow human will finally understand why you stopped calling. This is a win-win!! And we know how much everyone likes win-win's!

This story has another twist, actually. The twist is that if you want to be in a relationship, perhaps you should put off a different vibe around the person you want to be in the relationship with. If you treat your potential suitor with the same strong hand that you treat everyone else, then it's going to be much harder to get them to take to the whip.

Trust me on this one. ;-)

What I really want is to have the kind of blog that leads people to randomly ask me how to fix their lives...

What I can't figure out is why I am so interested in fixing people's lives and why anyone would think I can fix theirs and either way how do I get those people HERE?!

Perhaps if I type the phrase: I CAN FIX YOUR LIFE AT NO CHARGE -- people will Google it and they will come.

Still, I know that I can't really fix people's lives, I just REALLY like trying.

Does that count?

Random Childhood Memories

Okay, so I'm up early and fooling around with my blog. Most of you probably never noticed (unless you have a blog yourselves) that in the comments section there is this random question: "lionnesses have no manes, how do they know when they have grown up?" I was growing bored with my answer ("when they've been screwed over by a lion") and wanted a new question. I kept trying to get a new random question but I had a problem with most of them, either they were too dumb or too out there or too "I'm just not that creative without a cup of coffee."

This is where this post comes in. One of the questions was something like "what would you call the ballet of children dancing through the water sprinkler?" I still don't know what I would call it, but I sure remember doing it. Do you? We had this automatic sprinkler system in the front yard and I would beg my dad to turn it on so I could run around in it. The begging would go on for what seemed like hours to my childish mind and then he would usually give in. And I would call my little friends and we would dance around in the sprinklers for a while until the cold of the water and the smell of the well water and the mud from the yard would make us quit. But what a dance in the mean time, huh?

Before we got the automatic sprinklers we had one of those rainbow stream things -- Dad didn't seem to believe much in the round and round ones. I wish I could replay that sound because that's the only way to really describe them. The "shh shh shhh" sound. The streamer ones, they were silent. It didn't really pay to stand still with those because the water would hit you suddenly and then you just kind of stood there shivering while you waited for it to come back again. You had to dance through the thing -- back and forth, back and forth.

I have a lot of memories of my Dad growing up, many of them with him being a little grouchy and a little drunk but all in all -- he's been a good dad. A lot of parents didn't like you mudding up their lawns (especially in upper middle class suburbia) and ruining the grass with the over-watering but he would give in a lot. And that's pretty cool.

Check out Catt who once again says the things that I would say if I had opinions about things that weren't about my hair for longer than 5 minutes. Does This Mean I'm a Grown-up? She makes a very good point about actually getting involved and knowing the issues and so forth. I would love to do this, but this would take away from the time I really need to spend thinking about my hair.

Which I can now get back to thinking about since this election thing is over. Don't get me wrong, as you have read I was really into it. But there's just so long that I can be morally outraged before I remember -- I have no morals, I CAN'T have outrage! ;-)

So, about my hair. I'm already getting the fever for major haircolor change again. Scott (surprise) doesn't understand this. Probably few people understand this. [Other than my Goth Martha Stewart. But she's actually morally outraged these days and has little time to obsess about my hair color with me. I bet if I showed up with black hair though, she'd sit up and take notice! (Calm down, I would never.)] I just like to change it. I don't like to change my hairstyle too much or too often -- other than adding more layers sometimes and maybe going a little shorter or a little longer -- so the only way I can express my moodiness is in different colors. Problem is that I'm just always going to be a ditzy blonde underneath the color, so why try to hide it? I want to go some cool shade of brown because it's about the only thing I've never really done, but just not sure I can pull it off. There's just the whole stereotype of brunettes being more serious and mousy and whatever. If anything, I'm a sarcastic grouchy grown-up Daria -- maybe I SHOULD have black hair... But then again, I'm also ditzy and spacy and chatty, so perhaps the blonde is the best way...

America if you want a REAL issue to vote on, one where your vote may count -- vote for Heather's Hair Color!

Should it be:
Blonde
Blue
Brown
Red (but not that crazy red color)
Tiger-striped

No hanging Chads in this election! :-)

I'm going to catch shit for this

It's over. The election thing. That guy won. I can't believe it. My friend said, "Heather, I had no idea you were such an outraged liberal!" (Note: this was taken out of context and not meant in a derogatory way, more like "I didn't realize you liked mashed potatoes.") I admitted I didn't know it either until this election rolled around and I gave some good hard thought to how much we had been lied to by our President and just didn't like the way that tasted.

My friend had some good points that I would like to share. My friend said that we liberals have become a little arrogant in our views, because we get so high-minded when it comes to people who don't agree with our views -- the Bushies. The fact is, my friend points out, over half the country CLEARLY does agree with this. We can call them brain-washed, but they're saying the same things about us. What we are dealing with, my friend and I both agree, is a radical example of human nature at its finest. That is to say that human beings have an inate inabilility to recognize other viewpoints as being as equally valid as their own, for the most part. I completely agree with this. My point is that I am arrogant in my beliefs because I truly truly cannot understand why anyone would want to continue the presidency of someone who has willingly sent so many of our young people to die. Doesn't seem to have a good plan for making that stop. Someone who shows little to no interest in figuring out a way to fix the problem of the vast amount of uninsured people in this country. Is pretty much against separating church and state. And on and on and on.

My friend pointed out this election was about foreign policy and my friend's belief is that the reason why Bush made it and Kerry didn't is because Bush is willing to put on the tough face and kick the shit out of anyone who raises an eyebrow at us instead of sitting down and trying to talk about it diplomatically. You know what. I think this is a good point and I agree that this was a resounding reason why he was re-elected. Bush is able to be the big tough mean guy that's going to "keep us safe." The problem is that he has a little something to do (in not just my opinion) with why we aren't quite so safe. Compound THAT with the fact that he and his homies seem to feed the fear of the American public and I just get outraged again.

But, honestly. I hate to be defeatist, but what can I do? I voted. I voiced my opinion. Could I have done more? Probably. Did I? No. There is just no point spending four years in a state of moral outrage and pissiness and so forth. It's done. He's still running the show. All we can do is hope (and pray, for those of us who do that) that he doesn't continue to fuck up the country. That he sees the division as a real reason to make some changes. No, I don't believe that is going to happen -- but I can still hope it, can't I? It's done.

Another friend says My Country -- Right or Wrong and that wrong is the answer. I don't agree. We still live in country that allows us to choose who is going to run it. We still live in a country that allows us to be pissed off AND LOUDLY about who is running it. We still live in country that is pretty safe (and I DO believe this, even after 9/11 and everything after). No one is going to come to my house and shoot me in the head for choosing Kerry over Bush. We have freedom. We do. We can say that Bush is stripping it as much as he can, but we've still got a fuck ton more than a lot of other sorry bastards do. So, it's my country and we may be wrong but I still love it and I still believe we can make it through this.

But, I guess I'm just an eternal optimist. HA.

I was debating between two different titles for this blog. Either Vote Commando! or Tom Brokaw Makes My Panties Wet. Either way, someone might be offended.

Oh well.

Vote: Commando refers to my early morning vote. I decided last night to get up really early this morning and go vote to "beat the rush"... This will now be referred to as "beat the rush -- HA!" Before I realized that, however, I was up very early throwing on my clothes to go up and seriously considered not bothering to put on my undies since it was dark and I was tired and didn't feel like wriggling into them. I really just wanted to go in my pj's, but the political process is a serious thing (again: HA!) and really shouldn't be done while wearing leopard print silk pj's. Still, the urge to go command was strong. But, I fought it.

The line was LONG. I stood in line for an hour. Behind two Republicans. I was so tired that when they called A-K to the front of the line, I went. I didn't know the alphabet. One of the Republicans I stood in line with was really amused at my lack of knowledge at the alphabet. Hey, he was a pretty nice guy for a Republican so I'll let it slide. He just doesn't see what effect the President has over the economy or creating jobs since those things weren't spelled out as Presidential responsibilities in the Constitution. Huh. Well, I guess you have a point, sir. I don't bother to argue with them anymore, I learned my lesson when my father called me a brain-washed idiot last night. Huh.

Anyways, stood in line for an hour and cast my vote and then came home to have a cup of joe before I ran through the shower to get ready for work... While watching some morning tv, I got to see Tom Brokaw. Sigh. I really love him. Yes, he's old and he talks sort of strangely but he's just so friggin' smart and challenging that it's kind of sexy. And he's retiring. This is his last Presidential election -- can you imagine? Politics without Brokaw? How is this possible? Who is going to replace him? Has this already been decided and I didn't even notice... I've never been that into politics or even into being aware of current events, preferring the ostrich approach to most things in the real world, but I've always loved Tom Brokaw. Gonna miss him, the sexy beast.

It's 8am so I'll have to go shower and get ready to go to work. To my long long day at work answering the phone and pretending to be awake.

Go Vote -- I'd rather have you vote for the other guy than not vote at all, though it pains me to say it.