Good things Friday

Mom & Da ARE HERE! YAY!
I have no idea where this week went - work is so amazingly cool/busy/crazy I haven't felt this energized about what I do in years.
Two weeks since I've had chips, Cheetos or Tostitos. Yay, me.
FABULOUS Fourth of July weekend
Swimming in Lake Geneva
Peeing in Lake Geneva
Mine's behavin'
Went to The Bristol Tap last night and somehow resisted the chips that always accompany the best burger on the planet.
Eating Quaker Oatmeal for breakfast - the cinnamon swirl is best
I need to write a 500 word article for the Illinois Technology Association by noon and I don't even have a topic yet.
Okay maybe that's not a good thing but it's on my mind.
Pilates on Tuesday kicked my ass.
The window washer who fell three stories down the building across the street yesterday is okay.
Seeing the 20 or so firefighters who gathered to rescue the window washer hanging from the side of the building across the street.
Dole Pina Colada juice is outstanding. Especially with Capt. Morgan. Try it.
My creative guy is finally back from Disney World.
Megan at the Kinko's in Aurora is a rockstar - the sign she made for my show in San Diego is fabulous.
Mom made her world famous potato salad for the little dinner gathering we're having tonight.
I had an excellent dream last night about telling off my cousin and his C-U-Next-Tuesday wife - it was extremely healing.
Talking with Mom on the porch.
The User Experience Assessment we did for a hardware store chain in Canada was a big hit.
Watching Penn & Teller's Bullshit show with Mom, Da & Jim last night.
"I feel like we got a lot of decisions made in this meeting."
Going to the grocery store with Da.
San Pellegrino Aranciata is delicious
Mom's Navy cake
My boss might actually have some billable work for me on a writing project for a client.
Judy's gonna be a gramma again - YAYYYYY!
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I'm listening to: INXS - Don't Change (BEST SONG EVAR)
I am reading: Nothing
And I am: Happy

The fairy tale me

There’s a mirror in the foyer that Jim gave me for Christmas many years ago.

It’s smallish and round with a dark metal frame shaped like flowers and leaves. Pretty, but not too girly-girly. Like something from a fairy tale with a princess and an ugly cruel stepmother with a big hairy wart that smells like bad cheese. Just the wart, not the whole stepmother.

Anyhow.

It’s a skinny mirror – you know the ones – it magically makes me look at least 10 lbs. lighter.

I don’t even know why I look in it, really. It’s not a true reflection of reality.

Maybe I look because it gives me a glimpse of what could be.
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You've probably noticed I’m not writing any more. I’m pretty pissed off about it.

Because of charm school, I’ve lost the part of myself that liked this – writing and ranting and having fun with words.

Here’s hoping it comes back someday.
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Not a huge fan of the word foyer, by the way. Especially snooty-falooty people who say it like ‘foy-A’.

These are the same folks who pronounce vase like ‘vaaaz’.

As in ‘The vaaaz in the foy-A is filled with juicy wet dog boogers.”
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So back to this mirror.

Love love loved fairy tales as a child. Hell, I still love ‘em.

And I’ve read a lot of them, but don’t ever recall a story like this:

What if, Once Upon a Time there was a mirror that could show you the best version of yourself?

The what-could’ve-been version who made better decisions and didn’t eat entire bags of Ruffles Sour Cream & Cheddar chips in one sitting?

Wouldn’t that be cool?
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fairy tale (also fairy story)
noun
a children's story about magical and imaginary beings and lands.
• [as adj. ] denoting something regarded as resembling a fairy story in being magical, idealized, or extremely happy : a fairy-tale romance.
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The point is, because of charm school I am catching glimpses of this slightly better, fairy tale version of myself.

It’s kinda cool when it isn’t scaring the living shit out of me.

Because this new Hedy is more sociable. Has more energy. Is more conscious and aware. Is eating less. Doing more. Is more compassionate. And less temperamental.

However.

It’s coming at a price and I am seriously mourning the old version of myself. The version that liked hanging out here with you and ranting about silly shit.

Furthermore, if you’ve ever read the really old, non-Disney fairy tales, you know they're often scary and bloody and not all of them have happy endings.

So right now, the fairy tale version of me is wandering around in the woods, ate all of her fucking breadcrumbs miles ago, and is hoping that her fairy godmother will arrive - POOF - soon.
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I am listening to: Green Day - Basket Case
I am reading: Nothing much
And I am: Reflective

Good things Friday

Slow news week, eh? Here’s when I turned off the TV:

“Dame Elizabeth Taylor has released a statement saying she can’t release a statement at this time.”

I can't be the only one who knew Michael Jackson would die early. He was a tortured, unhealthy soul and here's hoping he's finally at peace.

Here’s good things Friday:

Texting Jim about Michael Jackson yesterday:
Jim: “I wonder how he died.”
Me: “Who nose?”

Mudbone, sitting next to me on the train this morning: “I used to bleach myself,” he says. “They used to sell it down South. That bleaching agent was poplar.”

Jim texting me Richard Pryor quotes from Boston all morning (And I’m prayin’ to God I ain’t gotta kiss nothin’.)

The Grandfather from Heidi (Shirley Temple version) sitting next to me on the train last night, talking dirty to his spouse: “You keep feeling better like this, Sweetie, and tomorrow maybe we can make noises.”

This e-mail exchange from early yesterday:

To: Jim, You Know Who, Mrs. You Know Who
From: Hedy

Farrah Fawcett was only two years younger than my mom. There’s a joke in there somewhere.

To: Jim, Mrs. You Know Who, Hedy
From: You Know Who

Unlike Farrah’s, I still have the swimsuit/nipple poster of your mom in my room.

Another fabulous weekend visit with Nelson, Kyra, and Chad.
A fabulous but way-too-quick visit with Susie and her family.
Shopping at the Little Traveler with Suze on a Monday afternoon.
Impromptu post-charm school drinks with Jim, Corb & Debbie at the Caboose bar in Geneva
“Sticky tits”
Realizing that saying yes increases my energy
Swimming at night with Grommie and the stars
A text just now from Kathleen, our recruiting goddess: “You in the office yet? Feel like going to the Cubs/Sox game today?”
Going to the Cubs/Sox game on a beautiful Friday afternoon.
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I am listening to: Mudbone yapping into his phone
I am reading: Nothing
And I am: Smiley

Word peeve

Got an e-mail just now from the Business Network Chicago:

"IF you are in transition, here are a couple of good people to follow on Twitter..."

In transition?

What a lovely way of saying out of work and couch-bound with one orange-fingered hand in a bag of Crunchy Cheetos and the other flipping channels between Oprah Winfrey and soft core porn.
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I am listening to: Co-workers discussing BBQ stuff
I am reading: Nothing
And I am: Not in transition

Today

Susie and family arrive within the hour, but thought I'd share this amazing 'JesusPhone' story with you (it's a long read, but so worth it):

http://happywaffle.livejournal.com/5890.html

I have more thoughts on this - thankfully the thief wasn't armed/dangerous/insane - but we'll revisit this topic another day.

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I am listening to: Birds chirping from the side yard

I am reading:  Nothing at the moment

And I am:  Looking forward to another hot summer day with good friends from far away

Good things Friday

A great weekend with Nelson
Looking forward to another great weekend with Nelson, Kyra and Chad
Two graduation parties on Saturday
It's not raining right now
Fuck You Tuesday helped me get angry again
Yesterday was my one-year anniversary in the melty chocolate chip job and the team brought in donuts, plus the recruiting director sent me a wonderful e-mail
Chick dinner with Mrs. You Know Who and YKW's sister Wednesday night
Working on a strategic planning project
Eligible for 401k now
A few good leads from the Chicagoland Chamber breakfast yesterday
Ran into my old editor from the Daily Herald at the breakfast - he's got a great gig in PR now
The house is relatively clean
The flowers are growing like mad
Cut the backyard last night
Downloaded the iPhone 3.0 OS upgrade - it's considerably faster, and now I can cut/paste and search
Found out The Turd (remember him?) was fired, and the person who took over (someone I worked with briefly there - long story) wants to meet and talk about my original marketing plan/strategy
I am wearing pants that didn't fit a month ago
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I am listening to: Muted office conversations
I am reading: Four Seasons: The Story of a Business Philosophy by Isadore Sharp
And I am: Sorta giggly reading all that old Turd stuff

Shit-pants

Through an informal and ongoing survey, I have learned that practically everyone I know has shit his or her pants as an adult.

Yes. Everyone.

Except me.

I’m still waiting. This makes me nervous. Extremely nervous.

Because when nearly everyone you know has shit themselves, it’s not good being the odd person out. It’s not normal. It means that I’m overdue.

Hedy, you’re telling us that you actually want to shit your pants?

YES!

Seriously. It’s like the first time I dropped my motorcycle.

I was making a left turn from Route 31 onto Mooseheart Road and didn’t accelerate enough so the bike stalled and fell over. I wasn’t hurt – I let it fall and kept standing. But in addition to that rush of OHFUCKWHATNOW adrenaline and a bit of fear about causing an accident at this busy intersection, I actually felt relieved.

“Well, I got that over with,” I remember thinking. “I knew it was going to happen, now it has and I don’t have to worry about it.”

That’s how I feel about shitting my pants. I really just want to get it over with.

I want to be like everyone else.
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“Combos,” says one shit-pants friend of mine who shall remain anonymous. “Eat a bag of Combos. That’s what did it for me.”

That would be cheating. You can’t force yourself to shit your pants anymore than you can force yourself to drop a bike or laugh at something that isn’t funny.

It just has to happen. Spontaneously. Uncontrollably. Often publicly.
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Best case scenario:

It’s a Friday night out with all of our friends – drinking and eating and laughing and laughing and eating and drinking.

I’m all stuffed and smiley-faced.

Someone I know and love does or says something that is just bust-a-gut hilarious and Voila! I laugh so hard I fill my pants.

That's how it should happen for all of us desperate skid-free folks waiting for the inevitable - in the company of our very own shit-pants support group.
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I am listening to: Nothing
I am reading: Yield Software Getting Started Guide
And I am: Anxiously waiting