you have a small one ahah socjsta d
2004-05-04
3:53 p.m.

I can't believe it's been a week since I've updated. Honestly, it's not like a single thing has been going on in my life. Except the email I just got, subject line: "you have a small one ahah socjsta d." Okay?

Mostly I have been playing night owl because my husband got switched to second shift, which sounded awful but actually sort of RULES. We sleep in, eat breakfast, spend the morning just loafing around watching Netflix or reading, go to the gym, eat lunch, and then I pack cookies in his lunch (dinner?) bag and off he goes. Then I've gotten my morning loafing out of the way, been to the gym with company at an uncrowded hour, and I'm into my most naturally productive hours with no incentive to loaf because he hasn't just gotten home from work exausted wanting me to spend time Netflixing on the couch with him. So I putz around doing actual housework. It's awesome. I can reorg the cabinets or sweep at 11 p.m. without him thinking I'm a total freak, because he's not even there.

Last weekend, I was at the gym, minding my own business on a recumbant bike. I was trucking along, flipping through an issue of Shape, and this older lady in street clothes sat down on the bike next to me and asked me how to turn it on. I helped her, silently hoped she wouldn't hurt herself pedaling in sandals, and went back to my magazine. She pretended I wasn't reading and started talking about her grandchildren, who were taking a ballet class upstairs and how her daughters were members of the gym and how she was visiting for a few months from Saskatchewan and wasn't it lovely here.

I'm not a big fan of chatting when I'm set on reading, but, whatever, she seemed harmless so I put down the magazine and listened. Once she had my full attention, she immediately veered off into Religious Land, where I don't like to go with strangers. Using The Passion of the Christ as a crow bar, she pried off the lid from crazy and within minutes was informing me that I was going to hell. Yay! I picked my magazine back up, made noises when she seemed to want a response, and otherwise ignored her until she finally went away, muttering that there were only "two places you can go." Wal-Mart or Target, maybe?

Wal-Mart is completely terrifying with really inadequately sized aisles, counts on the government and tax payers to provide healthcare for the bulk of its workforce, and just generally scares me. However, they do carry Mary-Kate and Ashley cosmetics, which come in colors such as "Whatever" and "No Way." So, that's obviously a draw.

Target is clean and sunny with wide inviting aisles but I fear is sinister in its own way. However, it is so SHINY.

Maybe she didn't mean Target v. WalMart, though. Maybe, also, she should mind her own business and stick to talking about ballet class. And maybe I should learn to say these things instead of going mute because I don't feel like starting a fight with an elderly lady. But, really, is not telling a stranger that they're going to hell vaguely rude? If by vaguely I mean entirely? I shake my fist at misguided and unwelcome preaching and my own inability to stand up for myself in fear of being rude.

In other news, I skipped my weigh in this morning. I blew my ritual for the weigh-in by oversleeping (it's this new go to sleep at 2:30 routine) and therefore not being able to have my dieuretic cup of coffee and 3 glasses of water in plenty of time, and I've been plagued by small gains and even tinier losses these past few weeks, so I made an Executive Decision (not starring Kurt Russel) and skipped. And then went out for pancakes. I feel thrown off by this hooky playing. My only anchor, and I cut it free.

Also, I accidentally dyed my hair My Hair Color Circa 1995, and it's a time warp every time I look in the mirror. Hello, henna-flavored eggplant shade, how perfectly you match my under eye circles. Oh, to be the undead again. The sad thing is, my father is more than 2,500 miles away and I don't have a digital camera, so it's not like I can repeat the 1995 benefit and completely fill him with rage. Sad.

Peace out.