Falling Out of Love

Falling out of love is hard........really hard. People do it every day, but I don't think it makes it any easier. I'm falling out of love.

With Korbel.

This is a very sad moment. Korbel and I have had a long and very satisfying relationship. I say to Korbel, "It's me, not you. I've changed. You're still really great." Korbel looks unconvinced.

The beginning of our relationship was spectacular -- that first bloom of love, the giddiness upon seeing each other, that almost effervescent feeling that bubbles up from your chest. Ahh, memories really hurt. Bittersweet.

The next few years of our relationship went pretty smoothly, too. We fell into a nice complacency, but still love abounded. It wasn't always perfect, but we could always count on it. There was a steady presence that was reassuring.

Alas, the honeymoon was over. I think I outgrew Korbel. Could it be because somebody introduced me to Vueve Clicquot and Mumm? Possibly. People change, we move on. It's natural, right? I don't need to feel guilty. I still love the idea of Korbel, and am looking for a suitable (meaning in the same price range) replacement companion, so if you have anyone to introduce me to, bring them on. I'm open to new relationships.

And, you never know, maybe Korbel and I can rekindle our romance. In fact, I think Korbel is waiting for me right now. I'll give it a quick romp and let you know how it goes.......

Prom

I may have previously mentioned that we have a grown-up prom at our house every year. Well, every year for five or six years, anyway. My friend Sara & I decided a prom would be a blast one day while we were drinking wine and trying to think of places it would be appropriate to wear our tiaras. If you can't wear your tiara to prom, where the hell can you wear it?

The very first prom we had was pretty monumental. We gathered up a few close friends who we felt safe enough to look ridiculous in front of, and pitched the idea. They were in. Our theme was anything tacky and cheap, especially if we could relate it to the 80's. Our only requirement for attendance was that you come "in the spirit of prom." That was enough. We dressed in whatever "special" dresses we could find that fit us, danced all night long, drank too much, and I, for one, had way more fun than I had at any prom I went to in high school. I do believe there were special dance moves made up that had to do with sprinklers, lawnmowers, and golfing. These dance moves tend to make a comeback every year at prom.

What would any prom be without a little bad behavior? We usually have a few misguided souls that are caught "smoking in the boy's room," and some slut always goes home with the dj (fyi - Todd is the dj, I am the slut). This year I'll be sporting a vintage fuchsia dress with the bodice completely covered in sequins. I hate to brag, but it's really quite stunning, especially with the silver sneakers I picked up for $1 at our local thrift store.

So, think of us on Saturday night, and if you happen to be in the Auburn area, stop in at the old school house and join us at the prom. The theme is "Footloose" and we only ask that you come in the spirit of the prom. P.S. I hear that guy Ren got us permission to dance this year.

Crap. I Forgot My Little Sister's Birthday

This is a big deal. It was 3 days ago, and I forgot to call her, send a card, email, anything. I thought about it the week before, but then it apparently flew out of my head. I'm feeling like a bad sister right now -- not a good feeling. Hmmm, what to do?

The way I see it, I have a few options:

1. Never mention it. (This one will not work.)

2. Call her up, throw myself at her mercy, beg for her forgiveness, and pretend I already have her gift.

3. Send her a birthday e-card (I like the immediate delivery), and act like everything is fine.

4. Blog about it, and ask her if she's checked out my blog lately. This one is looking like a winner, folks.

I forgot my best friend's birthday once, too, and still feel guilty about that and it was about 8 years ago. I haven't forgotten it since, either. But forgetting Renee's (my sister's) birthday leads me to a bit of introspection. Am I a little too self-centered that I forget these important things in my family & friend's life? Or am I simply a bit of a scatterbrain? I have a long history of scatterbrain moments, and I'm hoping this is the case.

So, Happy (belated) Birthday, Renee! I love you, and promise I won't forget ever again.

Today I Realized I'm a Baby

This may be something that doesn't surprise the "people" around me (Todd), but it sure startled me. Todd and I are en route to a little workvacation - which I've decided can be one word. Do a little work, get a little vaca. Capiche? As of this very second, we are delayed in the Denver airport. I hate it here. Our layover was 4 hours to start with, but I was okay with that because we got a great deal on the tickets. However, when you head to the gate after your 4 hour layover and find out you're delayed another 2 hours, this puts a little spin on the attitude, if you know what I mean. This is when I admitted I'm a baby.

So, the first few hours are pretty cool. I'm hungry, we eat. I'm thirsty, we have some wine. Everything is happy, I'm feeling okay, and starting to forget why I was so crabby before we left home. The amount of guilt and anguish I impose upon myself before even leaving the house on a workvacation is, well, let's just leave it at stupid. I always feel bad for leaving the kids at home, although by the time I walk out the door I'm pretty sure they're cheering that I've finally left and loving the fact that I cannot bitch at them in person for another 6 days. I can't really blame them. For some reason (Mom), I think the house needs to be completely cleaned before I leave, so everything is vacuumed/mopped/dusted --- but by the time I get home, I won't care.

So, here I sit, with free wireless internet (can you all say hooray!) and thought I'd complain via blog. I must admit, though, that since I've started typing, my attitude has improved about 80%. And since I was only about 85% negative, I think things are looking up.

My final realization, if you will, is that I allow myself to be a baby when I'm traveling alone with Todd, but if I was stuck in an airport for 2 extra hours with our kids, I'd be the biggest cheerleader they had, and they'd all hate me for it. I can't even start to explain the mess we had last summer trying to get home from vacation. If you know Sydney, ask her to explain "We got Delta Screwed" to you. It'll be worth it just to watch her tell it, even if you don't hear a word she says. Trust me on this one.

So, if you're reading this, thank you for following my attitude adjustment. I think you just watched me grow up.

P.S. Do you think this means Todd will take me for another glass of wine??? :-)

Downward Dog

You know, a girl can start to feel pretty good about herself sometimes. Really, it happens. I run, lift a few weights, do some yoga, eat my burger on a "skinny" bun sometimes, occasionally skip dessert (but never wine), and sometimes think to myself, "Man, I'm doing good. I feel good, I look pretty good. Life is good." (Too many "goods?" probably.)

Then I happen to catch a glimpse of my inner thighs while in the downward dog yoga position. For those of you unfamiliar, it's kind of an upside down letter V. All of a sudden, life kinda bites. I hate it when that happens. I mean, here I am, upside down trying to do something to make my life better, and this happens. Perhaps it is not the best choice to do downward dog in short shorts? I guess this is proof that what might look decent enough while you're standing in front of the mirror in the closet doesn't necessarily look decent from other angles. Although, now that I'm thinking of it, how many people really see my inner thighs from upside down? Let's just leave it at, not that many. Okay?

From now on I think I'll stick to long yoga pants, which seem to be much more flattering from upside down and many other angles, so I can continue to believe that I'm doing all kinds of good things to enlighten my life. After all, I'm really only joking when I say to Todd, "You know, it takes a lot of work to maintain this delightful chubbiness." I like for him to argue with me, which he does, and which I truly appreciate. I suppose the point of this is that maybe feeling good about myself and my life doesn't really have anything to do with my inner thighs, but probably has plenty to do with the people who love me, and who I love.

But to wrap things up, I have to admit that I'll be working on the inner thighs. I'll let you know how it goes. What can I say? Every now and then I get to be shallow. The fact that I own a tiara and enjoy wearing it does lend itself to an air of vanity. I'm willing to live with that.

P......M......S......

I hate to talk about the expected, but it was bound to come up, don't you think? PMS runs my life, and I have to admit to being completely jealous of women who say something like, "Oh, geez, I wasn't expecting my little friend today and it showed up." Seriously, quit your bragging, ladies.

I spend two weeks of every month with inflated boobs, a pooched-out tummy, and so exhausted that I barely manage to hit the pillow before I fall asleep. I am not exaggerating. Ask my kids, they usually catch the brunt of my loveliness. Unfortunately, the result of all this loveliness is some crabby creature that overtakes my body while all of this is going on. Sometimes she isn't all that nice. But let me just point out, she always feels bad afterwards. Consequently, I spend the other two weeks of the month trying to make up for all of the nastiness this other creature creates. It really is exhausting to be me.

I knew things were out of hand when my son (who was 11 at the time) looked at me and said, "PMS again?" At my growling response, he just quietly and carefully headed to the other side of the room to wait things out.

As of this very moment, everyone is the house is avoiding me. Do you really think I can be that bad? I'm thinking they're all a bunch of chickens. Just agree with me. It won't do you any good to argue with me right now, anyway. I'm bound to win.