Don't talk to strangers

I think at some point in her life, almost every woman on the planet has uttered the words, "I have such bad luck with men," usually after unearthing the inevitable closet-skeletons of a seemingly perfect potential mate.

We've all been there, we've all said it, but for most of us, it's not so much bad luck as it is allowing infatuation and lust to cloud our judgement.

And then there's this cautionary tale:

I have a friend (whom I'll refer to as "Jane"). She's actually very dear friends with my roommate, but I've met her on several occasions, talk to her on the phone periodically, and overall, find her to be a lovely, warm, engaging person. She's very outgoing, terribly sincere and a generous friend.

The weekend before last, Jane was supposed to go on a roadtrip with my roommate, to visit an old friend. At the last minute (the very day they were supposed to leave), Jane phones to say she had met a man the previous evening (whom we'll call "Dick"), was quite taken with him, and seeing as he was only in town on vacation for a week, had decided she wanted to stay in town to go out with him.

Needless to say, my roommate was a tad irked, but she let it go. Jane mentioned that it had been a long time since someone had taken her out on a "real" date, and she was very excited about getting to know Dick better.

Fast forward about 10 days later, and Jane has now spent every day (and night) with this man whom she had just met. He extended his stay in town for a few days, and was staying with her in her home; they dined out, they attended a music festival, they chatted away for hours at a time, often into the wee hours of the morning. According to Jane, he was handsome, friendly, charming and just plain nice. At this point, all was well with the world.

That is until his face, and a description of his (heinous) crimes committed in another state, appeared on a television show. A neighbor of Jane's recognized the car in her driveway, and called the police.

In the wee hours of Sunday morning, Jane's home was raided by 20 law enforcement officers. The commotion roused Dick and Jane from their sleep, but once Dick became coherent, he leaped across the bed, reached into his suitcase, and shot himself in the head, killing himself instantly.

Jane screamed in horror, as her dogs barked, cops shouted, and a man lie dead, in a crumpled heap on her bedroom floor.

The rest of the story is but a blur, and is of no relevance here. I will say Jane is alive and well today, though still reeling from the shock of the events of that morning.

I do need to mention that this story, though abbreviated and void of great detail, is 100% true. I have avoided mentioning the names, the locations, and the crimes, simply out of respect for those involved (not to mention the fact that all of these details have been broadcast not only in the local papers and news outlets, but at the National level).

The reason I am sharing this story is more as a word of caution. You just never know who that man (or woman) across the bar is. They may be a Good Samaritan, or they may have brutally taken an innocent life. You just never know.

Just be careful out there.


Now playing: "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" is on in the background somewhere....

So it wasn't all bad.....

Well after my lovely morning yesterday, I was contemplating crawling back into bed and hibernating for the weekend. However, this is Florida, and as beautiful as it was this weekend, I could hardly fathom playing hermit.

So I did manage to get out and get my nails done, get a pedicure (the plan to get some more ink yesterday fell through)... then a friend called complaining of a sinus headache, for which there is really only one cure: hot and sour soup, with extra pepper oil! I made a Chinese food run, picked up some vids at Blockbuster, and hung out with the sickie.

The better part of today was spent being lazy.... watched "Scarface" (I love that flick!) and then hopped on the back of a *gasp!* motorcycle (a cruiser at that!) with a good friend, to grab some lunch and catch "Spiderman 2." ("S2" was, asthe reviews indicate, much better than the first, and definitely leaves room for a third. Aside from that, I won't spoil anything about it in case you haven't seen it).

And my shower? FIXED!! My roommate's mom's boyfriend (how's THAT for a convoluted explanation) came over this afternoon while I was out and apparently was able to nurse it back to health, as he left me a note taped to my bathroom mirror that it's fixed. YIPPPPEEE!

So all in all, not a bad weekend.

Now playing: Um, in my head? That same "Breakfast in Bed" that's been lolling about in my skull for 4 days now!

Can I just go back to bed now?

It's been a rough morning.

I woke up at 6:00 a.m. On the dot. On a freakin' Saturday. Woke up congested, sinuses all irritated, and was WIDE awake... no going back to sleep. So I went downstairs and watched part of a fairly interesting movie ("The Swimming Pool" - I think it was a French film), then caught part of a "90210" re-run on FX, before finally attempting to go back to sleep at 7:30 a.m.

However, by 8:30, I was wide awake all over again (might have had something to do with that Diet Coke I drank at 6:45), so I gave up on sleep, and went to take a shower.

As I'm adjusting the temperature, I notice the shower is spraying toward the wall, so I go to adjust it and *snap* the shower head goes limp (yeah, yeah, I can hear the jokes already), and the water merely trickles out of it. Apparently the pipe snapped, but it's within the wall, back behind the tile.

Grrrrr.

Oh yeah, and meanwhile, my shower caddy came crashing down on my feet - shampoo, conditioner, shave gel, facial cleanser, razor, loofah, pumice stone - all on my toes. Not fun.

So I gather up the necessities and took a shower in my roommate's bathroom (she's out of town for the weekend). And now I'm debating whether to call her and ruin her weekend (she owns the house we live in) or wait until she comes home tomorrow night and tell her then. Either way, it's a conversation I'm not looking forward to.

Hopefully the rest of the day will go better... I have a nail appointment (and I am DEFINITELY indulging in the extended spa pedicure today), then I'm going with a friend to get some ink (completed) on my hiney, and then I'm heading to the driving range to continue with my golf lessons.


Now playing: "Breakfast in Bed" - Nicole Kea

I am in love with this song. I can't believe this girl was in that lame-assed girl/dance-pop group Eden's Crush, because she actually has a gorgeous voice!!

Muh reesent rach of speeling arors

I must apologize.

I've apparently lost the ability to spell lately.

As someone else so astutely pointed out, "butgers" sound far from appetizing, and we didn't cook "smokes" sausage, either.

But ya know what? It's all Blogger's fault. At some point (apparently while I was sleeping) they've taken away the option to add links in posts, or perform spell-check!!

So ya see, it's not actually my fault. It's modern technology's fault, as they've reduced my brain capacity to one which requires a spell checker to ensure accuracy.

Regardless of where the fault lies, I am sorry for all the recent spelling errors, and I will try to do better in the future.

Hair today, gone tomorrow.....

So I decided to get my hair cut Thursday night. It's been bothering me for months... I last got it highlighted in April, and trimmed in mid-May... but I was ready for a change. Ya see, I have terribly, terribly thick, long hair. And it was layered - A LOT - to reduce the 'bush effect' (AKA "Cleopatra head") but the layers had since grown out, and I just wasn't happy with it. It's fairly straight, though I'd noticed that over the last few years, it would occasionally take on a bit of a wave if left to it's own devices (my Mom said hers started to do the same thing when she hit 30).

Mind you, it's in great condition, and when I take the time to blow dry it, it looks beautiful. But let's be realisitic - who has the extra 30 minutes each morning to do this daily? NOT ME!

I'd been toying with the idea of a radical change. I didn't actually want to go SHORT, but I wanted it to be a bit more fun, and easier to deal with - something more versatile (as this time of year, I tend to pull it back into a ponytail almost every day, just to get it "out of my hair" so-to-speak!).

Then a few weeks ago I started watching "Blow Out" on Bravo. I fell in LOVE with Kimberly's hair (the assitant-turned-stylist!). Her hair seemed to have about the same texture as mine, and I loved that it was still long, but had great style.

So off I went to my salon. When I called, I learned my "ususal" girl wasn't in that day, but I was in such a hurry, I opted to make an appointment with another stylist there. Upon arriving, I discussed what I wanted, and lucky for me, she knew (as soon as I uttered the words "Blow Out") just what I had in mind!)

She went to snipping away, and I felt sure I was in good hands. When she went to cutting my bangs (which I've not had in YEARS), she asked how long - I said I wanted them long and heavy. She pulled my hair down to below my eyes, and asked if that was good - I simply said once they're dry, I want them to fall AT or BELOW my eyebrows.

So here's the part in the story where my hair texture (the afore-mentioned natural waviness) comes into play. *ahem* Apparently the shorter my hair is, the more wavy it thinks it wants to be. As she put it, it has more "bend." She went about drying my hair, spritzing it with volumizing spray, then tousling it with the blow dryer. The sides and back fell beautifully. Never before had I gotten a cut that took full advantage of the natural wave so well! I loved it.

But then there's the bangs.

Are they below my eyebrows? Um, no.

Are they AT my eyebrows? Again, no.

Are they just above my eyebrows? Hell no.

They are, without a doubt, a full 3/4" ABOVE my eyebrows. No kidding, they are freakin' SHORT.

Mind you, they're cute, at least that's what everyone at work says. But they're SHORT! I can't do a damned thing with them! It'll be time for a trim before they've grown out to a manageable length!

I'm crushed. I'm at a loss for what to do. And again, I LOVE the rest of the cut - it's easy to deal with in the morning, all it takes is a little saltwater spray (some "Beach Head" stuff by KMS) and let it air dry, and it looks great - not just kinda wavy, but almost CURLY! Me? Curly? Who knew?!?!? But the bangs? Arrrgh. Quite frustrating.

So what's a girl to do? (see poll at right if you give a rat's ass!)

Cruel and politically incorrect post

Let me preface this by saying I love the great state of California. I was born and raised there, and will forever consider it 'home.'

Let me also say that I have a great respect for nature, and a love and admiration of birds of prey.

*ahem*

That said, I must say this (Yahoo!) headline still caused me to giggle:

"California Wildfire Caused by Electrocuted Hawk."

My question, however, is this: since the poor bird was electrocuted, and subsequently toasted in the fire, how on EARTH do they know it wasa red-tailed hawk? Hmmmm, inquiring minds want to know!


Now playing: "Things we Do" - Indiginous

I highly despise loaning CD's to friends, because they invariably come back with scratches. This one is no exception, and dammit, it just HAD to be on track 10, didn't it?

Grrrrrrr.......

Weekend wrap-up

Sundays are my favorite days lately. Used to be Fridays, but now I cont down the weeks that Jeff has been gone (and therefore calculate how many weeks it is until he comes HOME) by way of Sundays.

Had a lovely weekend actually... a friend invited me over (as well as a few others) to grill out some butgers and smokes sausage Friday night. We sat around, ate excessively, and sipped Sangria. So, to return the favor, I had a couple friends over last night, and *gasp!* actually cooked for them! I made Spaghetti a la Carbonara, which I've not made in a couple years, and had to do so from memory. And it turned out FABULOUSLY!

Then today, I went with a friend to see "Singing in the Rain" (yes, the old Gene Kelly musical/romantic/comedy) at The Florida Theatre. It was part of their summer movie series, and I must say, there's something very special about sitting in a beautiful old theatre watching a classic musical like this one. I'm definitely going back in a couple weeks to catch "The Seven Year Itch."

And that's about it! No errands, no laundry, no house-cleaning... just a weekend of pure friends, fun and relaxation.

*sigh*

And now I have to prepare to actually go back to work tomorrow?

Ham, egg & cheese bagels - part 2 (getting to the point)

So anyway... when I woke up this morning, I was dragging ass. I knew I needed to get some food in my stomach, but I was out of milk (for cereal) and didn't have anything else suitable for consumption at that hour. I decided to hit the drive-thru at McDonald's on my way into work.

I'm in drive-thru, and I'm contemplating getting the breakfast burritos, and then I rememebered something: a few months back, I was on some roadtrip, where we ended up stopping at McD's for breakfast. I ordered those burrito thingies, and someone else opted for the Ham, Egg & Cheese Bagel. Once we got on the road, I was eyeing the bagel breakfast, then looking sullenly at my own. Apparently they noticed, as they offered me a bite. Dammit, wouldn't you know it, but it was good!!

Well, apparently my enthusiasm showed, as they offered to split it with me, in exchange for one of my breakfast burritos (an offer I coulnd't refuse!). And away we went, me happily munching on my half of the bagel, as they choked down the other burrito.

My point to all of this is this: I have no farkin idea.

Ham, egg & cheese bagels - part 1 (background story)

Let me preface this all by saying - I FREAKIN' HATE ALLERGIES! In fact, one of the only things I despise more than my sensitivity to dust and mold spores is the MEDICATION I HAVE TO TAKE TO TREAT IT. It makes me very, very sleepy (and apparently just a tad irritable).

That having been said....

So last night I popped a Zyrtec. The Doctor put me on this crap last fall when it was discovered (via a VERY strong allergic reaction) that I am allergic to something (could be dust, could be mold, we're not sure, and I am NOT allowing them to turn me into a human-pincushion to find out!). I took the blasted Zyrtec (which in some college towns is probably used when Roofies can't be located) for two weeks. The label indicated that it "might cause drowsiness." Um, ya think? For those two weeks, I was an absolute zombie. Mind you, the hives finally went away, and my sinuses were clear, but I was barely conscious to enjoy it!

However, the last couple weeks have been sinus hell. I am in denial about the fact that I have a chronic sinus infection that won't go away, and I'm trying to treat it like it's allergies. And, in truth, the Zyrtec did help. I woke up today not 100% better, but certainly improved. And barely awake enough to function. I consumed more caffeine today than the law should allow (and yet, due to the apparently system-depressing effects of the allergy med, my heartrate didn't increase a bit!)

So, we'll give this crap another couple days and see if it does the trick. If it does, I'm afriad I'll have to actually *gasp!* renew my prescription and take this stuff regularly.

Well seeing as good friends are hard to find.....

...and I really haven't the time to solicit applications for new ones, I've decided to make amends with the afore-mentioned friend who upset me so badly over the weekend. Well, I guess it would be more correct to say he's decided to try to make amends with me.

Again, the specifics aren't necessary... we beat the issues until they were a bloody pulp, and though we may not have come to agree on all of them, we do agree that the bond we have is an important one, and one worth saving.

So there you have it....

And speaking of "trust....."

I'm in a bit of a conundrum today. Actually, I don't even know if that's the right word. I guess maybe it's more that I'm feeling disenchanted. I'm a little confused and a lot hurt.

Without going into TOO much detail, I had a friend (a friend whom I'm considered very close to my heart) betray my trust yesterday, in a major way. And I hate that essentially this means I can no longer be friends with this person. Ya see, if I feel I can't trust someone, I can't possibly carry on any sort of relationship with them (romantic, friendship or otherwise). Trust is just such a HUGELY important factor for me in any friendship. And while I don't give my trust easily (or even willingly, sometimes), once you have it, it's yours unless you screw up royally.

The friend in question screwed up royally.

So, while I'm angry over the betrayal, I'm more hurt than anything. The loss of a good friend leaves a void that is very hard to fill.

Weekend update

What a wild and woolly week it's been! Though it was a short week (in terms of work) it still seemed like it was terribly long. Work is insane as usual - though in the interest of keeping my job, I'll refrain from elaborating on that subject.

But outside of work, it was actually a fun week.

Last Sunday, a close friend had a big 4th of July bash - they boiled 22 lbs of shrimp, a few bushels of oysters, steaks, chicken, salmon fillets. Not to MENTION beer, beer and more beer. It was just a wonderfully relaxing afternoon. The women scrambled for slivers of shade under which to park their lawn chairs, while the men squealed like pyromaniac children, cackling with glee at the ignition of a mere bottle rocket. After hours and hours of eating, joking around and drinking, the evening was capped off by a spectacular fireworks display.

Monday I tried something new - I went canoeing! About an hour north of here, on the St. Mary's River, there's a little "fish camp" where you can park your car, rent a canoe, and then have the little old man drive you up-river and drop you in the water. We packed coolers with beer, fruit, water, sandwiches... took our beach towels and set off downstream. It was a blast! Once we got out onto the water, it was so peaceful and quiet... it was amazing to me that we were only a mile or so off the major highway. About halfway through the day, we stopped and beached the canoes on a little sandy shore, laid out our towels, ate our picnic and got a little sun. A very serene and relaxing day indeed.

And the rest of the week was fun as well (for the most part, anyway)...


Now playing: Well, actually I don't have any music on at the moment, but "A Question of Trust" (Depeche Mode) has been lolling about in my head all morning.

A Jerry Springer moment

Since Jeff's departure, I had started biting my nails again (a habit I had kicked when I was about 12). So, in order to save my cuticles (and my sanity) I decided to get acrylic overlays once again.

So Thursday, over lunch, I went to get a fill. It was beastly hot, I was tired, aggravated with work, and just wanted to get in and out with minimal hassle. After I had been there for about 5 minutes, this woman bursts in like a whirlwind, saying she needs to get ner acrylics soaked off. She's apparently a regular customer, as one of the nail techs seemed very familiar with her. Upon examining her nails, he asked why she needed them soaked off - she stated that she needed a fill in badly, but she couldn't afford it this week (mind you, a soak off is $5, and a fill in is a mere $14... but whatever....).

Now let me provide you with a mental picture: she appears to be in her early 40's, is thin, with long straight blonde hair, large (implanted) chest, wearing denim short-shorts, a tight white tee shirt and flip flops. No make-up or jewelry of any kind, and has obviously spent too much time in the tanning bed. She's not unattractive, but looked to be very weathered (or as they say here in the South - "rode hard and put up wet.") The overall impression I got was she was trying to appear and dress much younger than her age.

She sits down at the station next to me, and immediately starts rambling on (to whomever would listen) about how she left her husband (husband #3) last weekend, and has been living with "the affair." The "affair" also apparently proposed to her, offering her a 3 carat ring, and she feared she might also be pregnant with his child. However, she intended to move back in with Husband #3 the next day, because they have a family together and are in the process of building a house.

Again, to recap, she has now been in the salon for less than 4 minutes, and already I know wayyyy too much about her.

At this point, she turns to me and starts yakking. She insists I look familiar to her, and starts asking me where I went to school, etc... gathering her to be at least 10 years older than I am, I simply tell her I didn't attend school here. She asks how old I am, and when I told her 32, she acted shocked, remarking that I looked 24. She then tells me she's 30, and I could barely contain my amazement either! (as I said, probably too much time in the tanning bed).

She continues telling me her saga... how husband #1 shot and killed her brother, as he was having an affair with her brother's wife. How husband #2 is from Syria, and tells her 8-year-old daughter that Mommy is going to take her back to Syria where they are going to cut off her head (???). And then there's husband #3, who apparently is fairly normal, but not enough to hold her interest, which lead to "the affair." Oh, and by the way, the "affair" was waiting for her outside in his 1982 Ford Ranger pick-up (which seemed relevant to me, seeing as he allegedly just offered her a 3 carat diamond engagement ring) with her 18-month-old baby.

At some point, the conversation switched from her love life to her profession... she felt compelled to tell me the house she's building is costing her $270,000 (which for the area of town we were in is quite pricey), and that it's a 5 bedroom, so she can have a home office (I could see that this was dangled before me so that I would ask what she did for a living, but I didn't take the bait). Lucky for me, she felt the need to volunteer this info nonetheless. She then tells me how she a commodities trader for a (large national financial institution, the name of which I will not mention). I had to try hard to stifle my laughter at this time. I was this close to telling her "You're lucky if you're a stripper on the day shift at the Diamond Lounge, honey!" (The Diamond Lounge being the SEEDIEST, SKANKIEST strip club in town, located just down the road from this nail salon).

And really, would a commodities trader who just spent over 1/4 million on a house actually worry about the additional $9 is would cost her to get a fill for her nails? Everything that came out of her mouth was suspect.

Sometime during her bout with diarrhea of the mouth, another woman came in, and (sadly for her, lucky for me) she, too, got dragged into this conversation. Without going into too much detail, it would seem that every personal tragedy that can befall a person in their lifetime, had happened to this woman at least once (sometimes twice). She was a living, breathing episode of the "Jerry Springer Show."

And I don't mean to sound insensitive to her woes. It's that I simply didn't believe them. Anything either the other woman or myself would say, she had done/seen/experienced. There was seemingly nothing this woman hadn't studied, worked at, been to or heard of. The most over-used phrase she uttered was "oh, me too!"

In retrospect, I suppose I do feel sorry for her. But not for any one of the numerous traumas she's suffered. I just feel sad for pathological liars... it makes me wonder what causes them to blur that line between fantasy and reality (and why she would fabricate such a dysfunctional fantasy world!)