Archive for February, 2008

Just the weekend

February 18, 2008 | Filed under: Familia, Humdrum

“The only reason why we ask other people how their weekend was is so we can tell them about our own weekend.” ~Chuck Palahniuk

So, guess who I saw in a bar at three o’clock in the morning.

Really, GUESS.

I’m not sure which of us was more disturbed: My father, since his only daughter had an excellent schmoozing induced buzz going on or me, because not only was my father frequenting the same establishment as I but he was up at the ass crack of dawn the next morning to call and check on me. My 60-year-old father has more stamina than I do. I failed to inherit the stay up all night drinking, bounce out of bed in the morning, without a headache, genes. A shame.

I made sure to mention that several people saw the above picture and commented on how ‘kind’ and ‘happy’ he looks. We both agreed that while he does smile, he is more likely to put the fear of God into someone than cause spontaneous happiness. But he did say thank you. He may be a little scary (I did get those genes) but he does have manners.

On that note, my entire weekend was spent running into people I haven’t seen literally in a decade plus. People who walked up to me and told me how much I look like my mother or to exclaim ‘MY! How you’ve grown!’ But the real treat was running into the very first love of my life; my sixth grade boyfriend. Let’s just say, that my 11-year-old heart was torn to shreds when we ‘broke up’. I ended up spending the following four years. FOUR. Trying to win him back. My 24-year-old self is now thanking the Universe for that divine intervention. Let’s just say that some things never change.

For love

February 14, 2008 | Filed under: Humdrum

“The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved - loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.” ~Victor Hugo

“Even if you kind of frighten him – which is possible since you said that you’re too lazy to casually stalk but that you would come after him like a thirsty bloodhound if he fucks with you - I think that any man that enthusiastically offers to go into a fucking Anthropologie…ALONE…for one stupid shirt, just for you, is almost a keeper. ”

“I know, I know. I’m still trying to get a sweater and a dress out of that deal. There is also a bookshelf from Ikea he could pick up on the way here. You know, out of love”

And soon the pigs will fly

February 12, 2008 | Filed under: Blogology, Planes trains and automobiles, Socially Awkward Barbie™

“The contemplative life is often miserable. One must act more, think less, and not watch oneself live.” ~Nicolas Chamfort

In Boston this summer, I spent an entire four day period as a recluse wanting to throw my own little tea party. And of course there were tears. My cycle of social awkwardness goes: HB doesn’t like new people, HB gets overwhelmed, HB rushes into the bathroom on the ballroom level of the Westin Copley Place to have a good cry. Because God forbid I actually attempt to open my mouth and speak to someone. What might I say? What could happen? What if I confess to wanting to bludgeon half the people in the room because I cannot handle the bullshit?

The thing is that I can be a ‘large party’ kind of girl if I know several people at the party. This is how I managed to successfully walk upright in Chicago for four days straight and look like I was having fun while doing it; because I was. Otherwise, I like intimate settings. My brain goes into sensory overload when surrounded by too much at one time and to stave off the inevitable explosion (SEE: Tears) I need to step back to survey my surroundings before diving into the hors d’oeuvres and handing out business cards. I don’t recall always being so skittish and edgy around new people or large groups, but it has happened and so I must deal with it. Or else I see myself on a trajectory towards failure since talking to people seems to be a large part of my job.

Several months ago, Helen Jane, offered up a ticket to SXSW. As I recall it was the middle of the day, so I was completely of sound mind and well aware of what I was doing when I said yes. I said, yes, to spending five days in a city I’ve never been too with exactly four people I know. While it isn’t rare for me to have bad judgment and overestimate my ability to behave like a person with average social skills (and by ‘average’ I mean I can speak to people without biting them or wanting to claw them to bits), it is rare for me to face a large social gathering completely head on. I’ve been so very flippant about going to Texas, that every time someone has asked I say “Oh yeah, Texas…yeah…” Then forget about it once again. I usually do well with bloggers, perhaps because we all tend to be a little on the misanthropic side. So it ends up being a large group of people who are all prone to hermitic behaviors who love to drink. Awesome.

Anyway, I am going to Texas. I will be standing in the corner either with my margarita or with my margarita and Aimee. I am not nervous but instead, abnormally excited to be in close quarters with several thousand people that I barely even know and 70 degree weather. Oh, and that noise you just heard? That was the sound of Hell freezing over.

Tiny moments

February 7, 2008 | Filed under: Fotografias, Great moments in narcissism

“I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world.  This makes it hard to plan the day.”  ~Elwyn Brooks White 

For the amount that I whinge (on and on and on) about my life, you’d think I lived a terribly boring and miserable existence where all I did was spend a lot of time alone, possibly with a cat and an excessive amount of wine. Oh, wait…. 

 

These are only three tiny moments of my life. Which, for the record, is a pretty kick ass one. There, I’ve said it; I like my life. I think I shall keep it for awhile.  

 

*photos from 30 Tiny Moments; a Flickr group that the ever lovely Jessica of Kerflop started a few weeks ago. I’ve already shown that I’m a misanthrope, crazy-cat-lady, so your moments really can’t be that much worse.  

I promise not to speak of this again. At least not until July.

February 5, 2008 | Filed under: Humdrum, The object of my obsession, Whoopdie Doo

“Football is, after all, a wonderful way to get rid of your aggressions without going to jail for it.” ~Heywood Hale Brown

Actually “Boring as Shit. But Frankly, My Dear, I Don’t Give a Damn” would have been a little more apt. A collection of text messages that Metalia has sent me during this football season. This will surely send me to some special blog hell but I cannot help it nor can my phone continue to be 98% full of text messages. Also OH MY GOD do people not use the phone to talk anymore? I have text messages that say “OK”. Someone spent 47 cents to be in agreement with me. The hell? Anyway, that is not the point yet sadly there is no point except that I feel compelled to save these messages for posterity’s sake and because Metalia is fucking hilarious. It’s good to know that I have a friend who can appreciate my screaming “Go fuck your mother” at some 200lb man who can’t hear me while chain smoking because the nerves, people. The NERVES. And really, I have nothing more unless you want to hear all about Potsdam, New York. Also; look forward to all of your burning questions being answered. The ones about my hair, my makeup, and why I think drinking two bottles of wine is acceptable (see: POTSDAM). Riveting, my friends.

*******

Haaa! Was literally going to my phone to text you about the game…and boobs.

I can’t believe they’re going to win this BOOBS I’m so happy BOOBS (Yeah, I’m using “boobs” like “stop” in an old-tyme telegram)

I know! My ass is clenched. I’m so stressed. That may have been too much info. but I can’t help it! This game is making me crazy!

I am honest-to-God PACING THE FLOORS.

“FUCK!” Works…so does “You big bunch of Green Bay twatsicles!*” (Apropos because of the frigid temperatures you see)

I actually cannot breathe.

They should take Tynes out back and take care of him, like an old racehorse past its prime

Me too; he’s just so dashing and…wholesome.**

Things I may or may not have done this morning; Went to your Flickr set of Giants training camp. Specifically the pic of u and Plax…and kissed the screen for luck.

Fuck yeah!

Maybe I’ll name my unborn child Steve Smith.

I’m partial to Tyree…or Tynes now.

Fucking Pats.

I keep telling myself that Plax is due for a big play.

I TOLD YOU MY BOY WAS DUE!

Are you watching? My secret boyfriend Spitzer just ripped on Boston and now YOUR lovah Schumer*** is kissing the Giants’ collective ass.

*Borrowed from Danny

**In reference to my not so secret crush - at least not anymore - on Mitt Romney. Just because I’d rather have my eyelashes removed with a plier than have him as President, doesn’t mean I can’t find the man good looking. So there.

***I was joking when I mentioned Schumer. Seriously. Mitt’s the only man for me.