Anglophilia
Ok, I am prepared to admit it, though anyone who knows me will know that this is true. I am an anglophile.
Anglo·phile or Anglo·philic (nggl-flk) adj. Anglo·phili·a (-fl-) n
- One who admires England, its people, and its culture.
- n : admiration for England and English customs [syn:
Anglophilia] [ant: Anglophobia]
This doesn't mean that I wish I were from England...it just means that I love all things English.
What is curious about this particular ailment of mine is that it was latent for so many years. Of course, I have always loved English things. When I was very young, I used to sneak into my parent's room to watch tv while they were downstairs. I would turn on their crappy 12 channel tv and the only channel that had anything on other than the news was PBS...and what did PBS have on? Benny Hill. Now, I can get shot in England for saying I love Benny Hill...but I do. His show was so stupid and funny I just loved it. Perhaps that is where it all started. We may never know.
Then came a few years later when my mom taped a Fawlty Towers marathon. I would sit with her watching those episodes all night. I loved John Cleese...which prompted my mother to make me watch anything Monty Python related. It seemed that more and more I was being exposed to the greatness of England. Well, at least the greatness of their tv shows.
So this built and built throughout my teenage years. And then, lo and behold, the summer before my junior year at NYU, a young woman named Polly moved into the house on the corner where I grew up. We became fast friends, and then that fall I took my first trip to England. It was amazing. I loved every minute of it, but I was a tourist the whole time. It was shop shop shop sightsee; shop shop shop sightsee. But it was wonderful...and as it turns out, I love the accent.
So, when I turned 21 and went away to work in Cape Cod for a summer, I met two young English lads. One I fell madly in love with, and the other became a great friend. Both had a very dry wit and appreciated my sarcasm in a way that no one ever has...except perhaps my parents, and they have to. It was like finding a whole new side of me. The side that appreciated that humor and attitude...I even came to appreciate the way they say vit-A-mins, or Al-U-minium.
I decided to move there. I was determined to do it...so I did. And that, too, was wonderful...though it left me penniless and homesick.
I am now in the beginning stages of my adult years and it hasn't waned at all. In fact, of the online dates I have been on in the last few years, at least 5 of the men have been British. They haven't worked out (my own issues) but it doesn't stop me from actively searching for them online the way some people search for things to buy on Ebay. And it doesn't stop there...I found myself an English/Irish roommate online. How obsessive is that!
So now that we understand what Anglophilia is and where it came from in my case, a decision must be made: Do we cure it...is that even possible? Or do we let it continue until I do something stupid like move to England and become the Talented Ms. Ripley...English accent and all!!
Well, no cure for now. But maybe there is a 12 step program for me...
Hello. My name is Carrie. And I am an Anglophile.
Under Pressure...
So I am a bundle of nerves today. Long story, but the short end of it is that I have a job interview today. But this is besides the point.
Why do I get so nervous??? I work myself up into a panic whenever anything even remotely confrontational happens. My palms get clammy, my heart races, and I get terrible stomach pains. All in the name of nerves.
But it isn't just confrontation that makes me this way. I think it is anticipation. Pure and simple: anticipation makes me ill. I get this way while waiting in line for a roller coaster. I get this way when I am going on a first date. I even got this way at my last job when I wanted to ask my boss for vacation time!! It is just my nature.
I just wish I could be one of those people who thrive on anticipation. Alas, I am not. I am one of those people who enjoys the 'after' moment. When all is said and done and you feel released from something. The euphoria of the anticipation wearing off.
Today will be no exception. I think once I am in the interview, I'll be fine. And then after, I will feel great. With an extra bounce in my step.
I used to be an actress, and I would always have these reactions on show days or audition days. I was always fine once I was onstage performing; but before? Oh man, I was a wreck. It's hard to imagine that some people have nervousness even worse than me. How terrible that must be to literally vomit from nerves. I haven't ever actually gotten sick from nerves, just stomach pains, thank god.
So wish me luck today. I hope it goes well...and if you see me and I have a postcoital look about me, you know I am done with the interview. Or I just had sex. Either way, you are to congratulate me.
Shoes! Bags!
I am so excited to be wearing my newest pair of shoes today that I decided to write about a woman's love of shoes...and then I also decided to extend that feeling to bags (though maybe its just my own obsession)
There is no feeling like having a new pair of shoes. It puts a little bounce in your step, because you are showing off something new. Not only that, but all of your tired old outfits are reborn because of the new shoes. Its interesting, because I don't like shoe shopping all that much. On my list of shopping loves, it is barely in my top five. The stores are always crowded, you can't really tell how the shoes look or feel because you feel funny walking around in them, and it can feel overwhelming with choices. But all of those feelings melt away when you finally find that one pair that you feel like you have been looking for all your life. For me, I immediately go home and try the shoes on again but with different outfits to see how they look.
The thing that people don't understand outside of New York City, in my experience, is that comfort is a sacrifice you sometimes have to make in order to love your shoes. My feet have been through so much trauma, it isn't even funny. But they continue to endure, because there is no feeling in the world like when someone says, "Oh my god...I LOVE your shoes!! Where did you get them!?!?!" and your feet know it.
For bags, it is the same principle. With the exception of the discomfort (sometimes...some bags are Heavy), new bags and new shoes go hand in hand. Putting your wallet and keys into a new bag and swinging it over your shoulder is such a great feeling. What I always end up doing is treating a new bag like royalty, meaning it never touches the floor, I hold onto it protectively when i am on the street or the subway, and if I see any dirt or schmutz on it I will clean it off right away. This lasts for about three weeks. Then I get really used to the bag and toss it around like, pardon the phrase, a pair of old shoes.
But see, that is the beauty behind shoes and bags. They don't have to be new to be loved. I have bags and shoes that I have owned for years that I love as if they were brand spankin' new. And every once in awhile I will be wearing the old ones out and someone will comment on them, and though it may be pathetic, but it makes my day.
Bible Thumpin'
I was riding on the subway yesterday to get to a doctor's appointment. It was a fairly busy train considering it was 1:30 in the afternoon. (I guess I always imagine that the city clears out while people are at work) But the subway car that stopped in front of me wasn't that full, so I figured I got lucky. As soon as I stepped onto the train, I knew why it was not as crowded as the others...There was a bible thumper on board.
Now, a distinction has to be made. These people are all over. Some want to recruit you, some want to yell at you, some are just too crazy to know what they are saying. This guy...this guy was a mixture of all three types.
First of all, he was sitting with a bible across his lap, and an enormous cross around his neck. Secondly, he had an accent, though I couldn't figure out where it was from. Thirdly and lastly, he was shouting. And I don't mean speaking loudly...I mean shouting. Ear-ringing and headache-inducing shouts. And it was non-stop. He barely paused to draw breath.
Now, I had my headphones on...and let me tell you, I turned that mp3 player up as loud as I could handle...and his voice still pierced through. It was really beginning to give me a headache. Not what he was saying, but the volume and speed at which he was saying it. It doesn't bother me when people tell me I am going to hell; that the end is coming and Jesus will save us; that people today are so sinful, Jesus will be disappointed; etc. Those things don't really get to me, and not just because I am Jewish and don't believe in Jesus as a messiah.
But here's my point...oh yes, I have one...why with the shouting? I mean it. You never read about Jesus raising his voice. Was this guy hoping to convert us? Was he thinking that something that he shouted at us would get through and we would be changed? There were several other people on the train, and we all looked like we could use some aspirin...now surely, that can't be what Jesus would have wanted. He doesn't seem the type to want to cause pain and discomfort to anyone. But pain his messenger did cause. Oh yes, did I fail to mention that...the guy on the subway kept calling himself a messenger of Jesus. That was when I figured he is just crazy.
I mean, he didn't have a messenger bag or anything....ba dum bum. Thank you...I'll be here all week. Don't forget to try the veal.
But seriously, folks, I still have a headache. And now, to be perfectly honest, I am kinda annoyed with Jesus. Not his fault, I know. But still...
I am Perfect
I didn't write anything yesterday, so I am making today's a two-parter. Enjoy!
PART ONE:
VERY SUPERSTITIOUSI didn't ever think I was a superstitious person. I have some serious OCD, so that affects my behavior; but superstition isn't my style...or maybe it is. I do believe in luck, and because of that, certain things in a given day will trigger me to think if that day is a lucky one, or if I should go home right away. Little things like, what was the first song that came on my mp3 player in the morning (I have it on shuffle...gotta love the random), or if the bus/subway arrives at the stop at the same time as me. Sometimes, if something really great happens during the day, it goes through my head that something I am wearing must be lucky. Earrings are my big thing. If I am having a bad luck day, I sometimes take my earrings off, just to see if that is what has affected the day (and you know, sometimes, I swear to God...it makes a difference) So basically, I am a crazy superstitious person, and I didn't even know it.
PART TWO:
PICTURE PERFECTI was on the phone the other day with my Aunt Peggy. We were talking about my cousin's wedding a few weeks ago. They got back a lot of the pictures and she was describing the best ones to me (it sounds like a super fun conversation, I know) She then said, 'You and your sister are so photogenic. But I swear, Carrie, some of these photos of you are really funny.'
It made me think how many stupid photos there must be of me out there. I blame it mostly on my father, the photographer. He wouldn't ever take just one picture, he took 5, so after smiling for 4 pics, I would usually pose or make a face or something.
Anyway, I went online and looked around for other stupid pictures I have taken...here are a few of the best (trust me, there are MANY more where they came from)
Thanks, Dad. I do appreciate your taking my picture as you stand right next to me. I'm sure, you being a professional photographer and all, that it will turn out great.
I have never actually worn this costume. This is the photoshop work of one Glennis McMurray. I just think its really funny to look at.
This is a prime example of how I love to take joke photos. OR, is it an example of how strong I truly am?
photo courtesy of Ms. Moira Keihm
I love that my sister looks so great in this photo. Now she is going to put this picture in a frame as a great shot of her and me. Nevermind that I look like a drunk.
Ah, Christmas with the family. That is a statue of a little boy peeing that is supposed to be used for pouring wine. Leave it to me to come up with the tackiest photo possible.
And this, my friends, is one of my all-time favorite pictures. Sirrah and I were on our last day in London. If you ever meet Sirrah, tell her you saw this picture and ask her how hung over she was. We are so pretty...
Dig In!
As I was surfing the internet today, I came across this statement:
Simpson confesses to picking nose
Jessica Simpson has confessed she picks her nose.
The 'Newlyweds' star, who is married to singer Nick Lachey, has admitted she makes the camera crews stop filming when she wants to clean out her nostrils.
There was more to the article, but I won't insult you by listing it here. Instead, I will entertain you with more photos of Jessica's like-minded peers!!!
Dig in deep, Brit-Brit. Just keep the white-trash image alive!
Looks like even supermodels have to see what's up there...
A royal pick. If you are in charge of a country...does it really count as improper??
HOLY LORD!!! She is practically cleaning her eyes as well.
Go Nicky, go!
I bet PARIS wouldn't ever do that in public...
But her good friend, Mischa Barton, would...
And this picture has nothing to do with nose picking, its just one of my favorite celebrity photos of all time...
EEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!
Glass Ceiling
I have been temping at the same office now for over a month. There is the one boss whom I basically report to and am the executive assistant to, and then there is this other boss who doesn't really bother me...or so I thought.
He has now started to rely on me for what I call, 'bitch' services. He is a young guy, in his early 30s, and normally very nice...however, I now get the feeling that if he could call me 'Sweet Cheeks' in the work place without the risk of a lawsuit, he would.
He continually comes scuffling up to my desk and asks in this annoying voice like he is making a joke, 'Caaaaaarrrie, I need a favor...' And then he proceeds to ask me to do some inane task that he could have done in the same time it took him to come to my desk and ask me. Stuff like, 'can you call the Apple store and see if they can replace my broken IPOD?' or 'Can you put this shirt in an envelope so I can mail it properly?' or my personal favorite, 'I am going to forward these forms to you, can you print them, put them in a folder, and give the folder to me?' ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!!????!!!! What the hell is wrong with people in a work environment that they ask other people to do things?
I hope I am never in a position where I can't know my own office and take care of things myself. Why would you want to rely on someone to do those things? I know they are annoying, but you are hiring an assistant, not a servant. When this office gives me work like that, I start muttering the same thing to myself, 'I am a college graduate. I have a degree. I worked for three years as an assistant with real responsibility. I am better than this. Etc' But that is always followed by, 'I am just a temp. This is not a permanent job. I am just a temp. Temp. Temp.' Sometimes it helps.
Well, at least it calms me down a little bit. Ok, so not at all...but its true. Just a temp, just a temp. Temp Temp Temp...
ok, gotta go...I am sure I need to go and spit shine the shoes of one of my bosses.
In Heat
So I was fast asleep last night. It was chilly out and I was all curled up in bed, my cat, Daisy, lay right next to me. I am sure I was dreaming about something wonderful...when all of the sudden, both Daisy and I woke with a start, for some beast was being tortured right outside my room!
Ok, so that was my first impression. Then I listened more closely and discovered that it was, in fact, a cat in heat. BUT, it was still right outside my room.
Now, I don't know if any of you have ever heard a cat in heat, but it sounds a bit like a fire truck falling off a cliff with its siren still going. It hurts to listen to. And to top it off, it isn't just a noise that one cat makes and then its done. Oh no. It becomes a chorus of horny cats.
It was the oddest thing I ever heard. Like what I imagine dogs howling at the moon would be like. It was also fascinating. I mean, this cat moaned, and there must have been 10 responses from other cats around the area. It was unreal.
Thankfully, my Daisy was having none of that. She had woken up from the sound, but immediately put her head back down and went back to sleep.
The cat sounds continued for the better part of the night, but i was finally able to sleep right though them.
Those were some seriously horny cats!!
"How you doin??"
Date-a-thon
I've been an online dater for almost three years now. That may seem like a long time to some of you, but know this...I am very picky and a serious anglo-phile. I tend to gravitate towards British guys, I don't know why. Of course, the Brits and the Americans I've dated are all a little bit crazy.
I won't go into too much detail here because I still have the hope that one day I will write a one-woman show on all of my online dates. But I will speak vaguely on all of them. Of all my dates, and there haven't really been that many, there have only been a few I think really liked me. And even fewer whom I liked back. With those ones, I always manage to screw it up.
Here's the thing I have never understood...the 'game.' Apparently there are a ton of people who all know the rules to this game. I have no clue. I am always being told...'Oh no, never call him. Don't respond to his text messages. Never say yes to his proposed second date, always say you have plans.' I mean, its a lot to keep straight. Also, what happens if HE isn't following any rules or playing any game? And what do these 'games' entail? Do I need to wear protective headgear?
I made this resolution to not online date for awhile. It happened right after my friend met her first ever internet date and now they have been together for almost 6 months. That sort of pushed me over the edge. So I quit, no big deal. Except that now I am being slowly pulled back in to it's world. But this time I am ready. I know more than ever what I won't put up with. If a guy is crazy or acts weird, I will end it then and there...no more second or third chances. (but I will finish out the first date...good for my one woman show)
What the - I'm 26 already?
Where did the time go? I am 26 years old today, though it's just noon now and according to my mom I was not born yet...but well on my way.
26 doesn't really feel all that different from 25, except that it sounds more 'mature.'
For my 26th birthday, I am going to try and write some new resolutions. Forget January 1st. My new year starts today...in an hour and a half, to be specific (again, according to my mom)
1. I am going to get a new job. One that allows me to be creative and have fun. One with great people to work with and such a nice environment that I really enjoy getting up and going.
2. I am going to stop worrying about money so much (that one will tie into the first one)
3. I am going to get myself into shape...(see #4)
4. I am going to feel confident in how I look at ALL times, regardless of my body shape, weight, hair color, hair style, clothing worn, shoes worn, jewelry worn, etc
5. I am going to do little things weekly to make myself feel/look better; i.e. paint my toenails, exfoliate my body, pluck my eyebrows, soak in a hot tub, sit in the sun
6. I am going to stop thinking I need a boyfriend. I don't. I am not even sure I WANT a boyfriend right now.
7. I am going to seriously try to keep my blog going every day. I know there are about 1.5 people who read it, but that doesn't matter. Its for me, not them (excpet you, Moira...this is TOTALLY all for you)
So those are my current resolutions. I haven't set anything too hard for me to do, and I think in the end, I will be a better person for doing them. Good night, and Good luck
Temporary Insanity
My birthday party was a success...I think. I usually judge my parties not by how many people were there or how long they stayed, but by how many of them call me the next day and say, 'Oh, Carrie. I am not doing so well...I am so hungover.' And in this case, my birthday party was a huge success.
Here's the bad part, I have absolutely no pictures from it. My usual birthday rituals are that I go to eat right before the party, and that I have a disposable camera to take tons of pictures. Well, I did eat before, but we ate at this bar where another friend's birthday party was happening. And I completely forgot to get a camera. It was very un-Carrie.
But regardless of the pictures I didn't take, everyone seemed to have a good time.
The Allman Brothers tribute band was not that bad. They were great musicians, but Cabin Fever is way too small a venue for the volume level they were playing at. We were all hovering by the front door so that we could have actual conversations.
Now, the super suprise of the night was when, at 2:30am, my friends say, "Let's go to Scores!"
I have never been to a strip club before. Oh, I have taken in quite a few topless revues in Vegas, and of course, Chippendales(twice) but those were shows. No lap dances, poles, gross men-well, maybe. So I said, what the hell, lets go.
Scores, it should be said, is not the strip club of anyone's fantasies. And that is disappointing. The lobby is cool and everyone around there is dressed really classy. Then you go inside.
We got ourselves a little space in the back and ordered some drinks and watched the girls onstage. At this point we were all shocked to find that there was no pole on the stage. No pole!?! Thats outrageous. The girls onstage basically walked to the edge of the stage and swayed or rocked their hips back and forth. Then their clothes came off, not in any burlesque or sexy way, just off. There was one dancer who clearly was moving on to better things after this. She danced around and did leg kicks from the floor...and she lowered herself into the splits. Needless to say, our whole group got up and applauded at that.
Yes, lap dances were bought. I got a birthday lap dance from two women, and I swear they were the worst lap dancers ever. One of our group informed me that the lap dances are like baseball pitchers. You never send out your best in the beginning. You send out one or two of your regular, semi-decent pitchers, and then you wait. You wait and then send out your ace in the hole...your ringer. And it is so true.
We waited and turned down lap dances from a bunch of girls...and then we saw one girl onstage and she was dancing and she was beautiful. So of course we bought a lap dance for one of the guys in the group. She did a great job. worth every penny.
It's funny because when you go to a place like this, with a big group of people, you expect that you will be reserved and act all mature. But I swear, we were cheering and giggling the whole time. You are sitting there, drinking your beer, telling a funny story to your friend, and then you gesture with your hands and all of the sudden, there's a boob. It is a surreal experience.
I would definitely go to another strip club, but maybe not Scores. I think I am ready to see some real dancing...some real POLE dancing.
An atTEMPt at fun
**The following is inspired by Glennis McMurray. Check out her blog if you get a chance..she's a blog genius!!**
Carrie's Adventures in Chicago...
Day one: Rehearsal Dinner
Aunt Peggy: Are we having fun yet??
Me: Where's the open bar?
Sandi: I'm bored...
Mom: Ha HA! I found the open bar! Let me tell some stories about the groom...my nephew, Richie!
(p.s. she is really starting to look like Grandma Betty)
I gotta get out of here...the open bar is now CLOSED!!!
Sandi: I'm bored. Let's get out of here. Go home and sleep.
Me: Ok, but lets go out the back way to avoid the papparazzi.
Me: Damn...they found me. Drive fast Sandi!
Day Two: Wedding Day
I am such a New Yorker on my cell phone. Gonna go get my hair done for the wedding...
And don't I look good!!!!
Yes, my shoes have 4 inch heels.
The shoes make me tower over my family. I love it.
We are such an attractive family, no?
And speaking of attractive...
Richie and Sara: Hi. We're the bride and groom. And yes, we will have the most beautiful children you have ever seen. Can we take a bad photo? Hmm....I don't think so. But thanks for asking!!
Awwwwwwwww.
Me: Hello, yellow cab? Please get me out of here immediately!
THE END
photos by Richard Faverty
TEMP top five
Since my daily life is so mundane right now, I decided to share with everyone my Top Five All Time Celebrity Crushes!
Now, it should be said, these are not in order of love, but by how old I was when I loved them...this is important to remember when i get to number one.
#5: 1996-present
Ralph Fiennes
Many of you know him from The English Patient or maybe Red Dragon, but he is oh so much more. He almost always gets naked in his artsy movies, which I always appreciate. This is also, I think, when my Anglo-philia started. His voice, I swear to god, could melt me. I once was on a fan web ring...don't judge me...and I traded a copy of him in Wuthering Heights(so good, you must see it) for a copy of him reading the audiobook of The English Patient. I swear, for a month I went to bed listening to his voice.
#4: 1994-1996
Marlon brando (young)
This man wallpapered my room when I was in high school. Oh my god, he was hot back in the day. He had these muscles that looked like he could kill you with one hand...oooo, I love it. And to top it all off, he is an amazing actor. So watching his movies was always enjoyable. I refused to listen to people criticize him in reference to his weight. I bought books about him and read up on the little tidbits of his life. My dad used to have to drive me into the city to go to this one nostalgia store, where they had all these old movie stills and copies of Life magazine. It also smelled like moth balls and you felt like having a shower after being there for five minutes, but oh, the stuff I collected.
#3: 1990-1994
Kevin Costner
Ok, ok...please look at the dates. I loved him when he was at his most lovable. I think it all started with Robin Hood:Prince of Theives, but I have loved him since the first time I saw Field of Dreams. He is so charming and I can't stand it when he smiles and he gets all those crinkles by his eyes...its so damn cute!! I mean, who else could pull off an American accented Robin Hood against the likes of Alan Rickman??? That takes some guts. It is unfortunate that he started making really bad movie choices. I am still making it up to the friends I dragged to 3000 Miles to Graceland.
#2: 1988-1990
Harrison Ford
Indiana Jones, Han Solo, Working Girl. Do I really need to explain myself here? I went to the library and took out the 'Who's Who' guide to find what his address was so I could send him a letter. It took me 4 days to write to him, and it was a 5 page letter. Did I get a reply? No. I am still hurt by that to this day...sniff sniff
#1: 1996-1998
David Copperfield (don't judge me)
Alright, alright. I know this one takes WAY more explanation than any other crushes. Here is the best I can tell you. I loved magic when I was growing up, and whenever he had a tv special, he always made me laugh, so I crushed on him a little. NOW, my 7th birthday party was a Magic themed party, so I invited David Copperfield. I wrote him a little letter asking him to come and perform at my party, and he WROTE ME BACK! Well, I mean, he sent me an autographed picture and signed it, 'Thanks, David Copperfield.' I had that picture in a special album for years...until I realized how uncool it was...I am pretty sure I threw it away. Tragic.
So thats that. Of course, there are others that have come and gone, but these 5 guys stuck around the longest. And, like most crushes, they linger. So whenever they have new movies coming out, I can't help but get excited (hence me seeing 3000 Miles to Graceland). My oldest crush on D.C. culminated last February with a trip to his office and warehouse and Magic Museum in Las Vegas. He was not there, but there were pictures everywhere. I remember holding my breath whenever I heard a door open, in case it was him. Someday...someday...I will meet them all...except Marlon Brando, sigh.
A TEMPorary Good Idea?
So I went to my cousin's wedding this last weekend. It was in Chicago, and it was a full weekend of festivities. This meant that ALL of my family would be around ALL weekend. Friday-Sunday, all family, all the time.
Now, I have never been an advocate for lying to your family, but I swear, if you are ever in this situation, lie like your life depends on it.
I don't think I have ever had so many people ask me about my life. 'So you quit your job? How are you making money? You're TEMPING? Where? Oh, do you like it/would you stay? What do you want to do? Are you seeing anyone?' (that one always gets asked, but I threw it in to further prove my point)
The worst, by far, was my Uncle. He approached me AT THE WEDDING RECEPTION and started in on me right away. Now this is a man I have always gotten along with, and I think he is a doll...and until now I never understood why his own kids don't talk to him that much.
Here is how it went:
Uncle - I just spoke to your mom and she says you quit your job. Why?
Me - Well, it was time. I had been there almost three years and I knew I didn't want to pursue the field I was in.
Uncle - But you left without having another job?
Me - Yes.
Uncle - (dumbfounded) Why?
Me - I didn't want to be an agent, and I knew that so long as I was comfortable there I would never really try to pursue other work.
Uncle - You know there is something to be said for being comfortable and getting a paycheck.
Me - Yeah, I know. But I'm only 25, it's ok for me to shake things up a bit. And I am temping now, so I am making some money.
Uncle - Temping? But you said you wanted to pursue other work. Do you have any irons in the fire?
Me - Yeah, a couple. I am really taking some time to figure out what I want to do.
Uncle - But couldn't you have done that at your previous job?
Me - I guess so, but again, I just needed a change.
Uncle - Do you really think that was a good idea?
Me - (pause....pause...pause) Yes.
Uncle - Well, you are a lot braver than I am. I would think you wanted more security than that.
Me - Thanks...? (and then I made like someone was calling for me across the room and left)
I mean, what is with that!!!??? 'Do you really think that was a good idea?' Did he really ask me that? What was I supposed to say to him? 'Oh my god...you're right! I should try to get that job back!!!' How mean is it to rub my face in the fact that, technically, I am still unemployed.
Anyway, had to get that off my chest. It has been a week and a half since the wedding and I am still recovering.
Too much family is NOT a good thing.
Tempo
I am not crazy, let me just preface with that. However, there are certain things that happen in movies that I cannot handle. Of course, everyone has them. Some people can't watch movies with spiders or snakes, some just can't watch Woody Allen movies. I cannot watch movies where people's hair gets cut off in their sleep.
But wait, you may be saying, there are only a couple of movies where that happens...Well, I don't care. Just knowing that someone had the sick thought of, 'Hey, I know how we can be scary or freaky, lets cut her hair off in her sleep!' stupid.
So to this day, I will never watch 'I Know what you Did Last Summer.' And no, it is not because I hate J. Love Hewitt or her boobs. It is because I was TOLD there was a scene where sara michelle gellar wakes up and has her hair all cut off. That is my worst nightmare realized.
This also happens in a little known movie called 'Drop Dead Fred.' A COMEDY! Folks, this action is not funny. Don't ever think it is. Phoebe Cates falls asleep and her friend wakes her and half of her hair is cut off...just one side! Horrific.
I think it stems to my not wanting to be out of control with my hair. I know, it grows back, and usually in the movies, people end up getting really cute cuts to cover the attrocity, but it all means nothing.
On 'Friends,' when Phoebe cuts Monica's hair thinking she meant Dudley Moore, when Monica said Demi Moore, well, that episode still haunts me. I can't explain it. It is an irrational fear.
If you have this fear, let me know and we can start a support group. We can call it, 'People Against Unnecessary Cutting of Hair Association' or the PAUCHA. We'll have buttons made!!
Oh, and once I was stupid enough to share this fear with a roommate of mine in college. I thought I could confide in her...but she used it against me. If we got into a fight, she would always end it by saying, 'Carrie, shut up or I will cut your hair in your sleep.' It was a long semester.
No TEMP for you!
I went to brunch yesterday with a friend of mine and we got loaded. It was so much fun.
You know what's not fun about brunch, though; being drunk all day on a Sunday. Seriously. Never again.
In the last two months I have had the unlucky experiences of being drunk early on a Saturday and a Sunday. Both render me entirely useless, and I am resolved never to do that again.
All I want to do is go to bed early...and what fun is that!?! No, I will stick by my feelings that drinking is a sport best played at night.
