So here I am, sitting alone in front of my computer, experiencing what the experts commonly refer to as something spiffy-sounding, with lots of syllables, and probably in Latin.

I AM GOING TO BE THIRTY.

30

T  H   I   R  T   Y

And I'm a little scared that I'm going to be spending the birthday that makes me officially old alone with a bottle (or two) of wine.  If ever there was a time for that psychotic break I've been keeping back, this would be it. 

In an effort to prevent my induction into the white coat society, I propose that we have a get together the weekend prior, so that I can be well and truly braced for the actual event. 

It turns out that that panic and party planning don't mix well so all I've got in the way of ideas is dinner out and then a gathering at my new abode (for those of you who may be unaware I moved to Ballwin) 

I'm not really thinking out of the box at all here.  In fact, I'm pretty comfortably ensconced in the box.  I brought a sleeping bag and a pillow and am settling in for the duration.  If anyone's got some brilliant idea, feel free to share it.  Don't get me wrong, though.  I don't mean to knock the box.  I like the box.  It's comfy and homey, and there's a lot to be said for that.   Mostly, I just want some friends around me so that I won't have to watch myself turn wrinkly in the bathroom mirror.   




         

I'm reading a book written by a woman traveling in Yugoslavia in 1937.  I've not gotten very far, but I'm already fascinated.  Whenever I've written something I've always been thrilled when I feel that sense of rightness...of using just the right word in just the right way to say exactly what I mean in the most elegant, profound or clever way I can.  I get that thrill every couple of pages in this book because she achieves that state almost continuously.

She is discussing watching the footage of the assassination of the King of Yugoslavia in the harbor of Marseilles and she stops to describe a suspension bridge:

"...that vast suspension bridge which always trouble me because it reminds me that in this mechanized age I am as little able to understand my environment as any primitive woman who thinks that a waterfall is inhabited by a spirit, and indeed less so, for her opinion might from a poetical point of view be correct.  I know enough to be aware that this bridge cannot have been spun by a vast steel spider out of its entrails, but no other explanation seems to me as plausible..."

Describing her anxiety before having surgery:

"I had been told beforehand that it would all be quite easy; but before an operation the unconscious, which is really a shocking old fool..."

Talking about the cathedral in Zagreb:

"It has been cut about as by a country dressmaker, but it has kept the meditative integrity of darkness considering light, the matematical aspiration for something above mathematics, which had been the core of its original design, and at that moment it housed the same intense faith that built it."

Hey, I've lost my cell phone but am replacing it tomorrow so you may or may not be able to call me in the near future.  Our lease is ending in several months and Gene is moving in with Amy and Mat and I are getting our own place. 

I was wondering how you like where you're living.  It seemed nice and I really want a washer/dryer plus we could probably get you some money off your rent for a referral not that you should let that color your response in any way.  How's the management?  Do they act quickly when your stuff breaks cause I've been quite spoiled in this area. 

Thanks!

What good is an office monkey that can't dance?

Wanted: 

One special occasion boyfriend.  Must accompany me to social gatherings, family parties and other various events.  Pleasant attitude required.  Any fooling around left entirely to my discretion.

P.S.  Must also be human

I'm an online poker widow.

I have been admonished.  Granted, it was kindly, even grandfatherly, but it was an admonishment nonetheless.

I went to the doctor today.  Our conversation went something like this.

Me: Remember all those little bumps you froze off of me before?  Well, one of them was missed and now it's swollen and red and painful. 

Doctor:  That was a long time ago.  <checks chart>  That was April of 2008.  You've had that on you since April of 2008?  

Me:  It was really little!  It was my lone survivor.

After the lancing (ick) and the bandaging, he tells me that when this heals and the infection goes away, it's possible that the little bump will still be there.  And here he makes deep eye contact so the full force of his instruction won't be lost on me as it was unfortunately lost last time.  "If that's the case, you need to come back so I can freeze it off."

Mat's old Army buddy, David, aka Chano, aka Channelwidth, came to visit yesterday.  Sadly, Mat hadn't called him back so we weren't aware of his visit until about twenty minutes before it happened and since Mat had to work, I was the host.  At first I was wary.  I like the guy and all, but that didn't mean I wanted to spend an entire Saturday hanging out alone with him. 

I needn't have worried cause I had a great time.  After talking for a couple hours we decided to order pizza and watch a movie.  He goes through both my DVD collection and Amy's and after some deliberation decides that he would like to watch his all-time favorite movie that he watches almost every day:  The Notebook.  That's right.  Big bad Army Guy watches a chick flick based on a Nicholas Sparks novel most mornings.  In what I find to be a hilarious turn of events, we had to go to Blockbuster so he could buy another copy cause no other movie would do. 

It wasn't a bad movie, and since he already owns a copy, he gave us this one which is good for Mat because he has a crush on Rachel McAdams so he'll be able to watch her two sex scenes over and over again.  Important Safety Tip:  check out the deleted scenes for raunchier versions.  It took us about three and half hours to watch because we kept talking and he didn't want me to miss any crucial moments so he'd press pause.

All in all, it was a good day.  I got to eat pizza and candy, watch a cheesy movie, and make fun of Mat, both behind his back and to his face when he got home. 

I have a pair of pants that are so loose I can pull them on and off without unfastening them.  I have several pairs of pants that fit me fairly well.  And I have a pair of pants that are so tight I can only zip them up if I suck it in and hold my breath.

And yet, every single pair of pants I own claim to be the exact same size.  Clothing manufacturers are clearly having their little joke.  They don't do this to men, though.  Across the board, whatever size a men's pair of pants claims to be, it actually is.  Mat doesn't even bother trying them on.  A woman who did that would be a complete sucker, and probably making a second trip to return her purchase.