Thursday, October 21, 2010

I am caught.

Before you get your panties in a wad, I did not cheat on my husband.  It's worse.  I cheated on my hair stylist.  As all women know, breaking up with a hairstylist is hard to do, so it's easier to just disappear into the wild blue yonder, never to be seen again.  To move on to the newer, younger model.  That's what I did and I didn't expect to get caught. 

I had a hairstylist I liked.  She was good, she was very close to my home (this is key) and she was reasonably priced.  Then she switched salons.  To the other side of town.  This is not a huge ordeal except that the area she moved to required I drive on the busiest, most hated road in my neck of the woods to get to her neck of the woods.  I avoid this road at all costs unless it's an early weekend morning or late at night.  Since I am rarely out at either of those times, it's a given that I rarely set my car wheels on this road.  So between that and the fact that my hair cuts were "good" but not "great", I decided to search closer to home.  I found someone who met all the factors - good, close to home, reasonably priced.  I have been very happy with her and have sent her quite a bit of business.

A friend of mine still goes to my previous stylist and told me she was moving to a new location again.  A little closer to us, but now ON that most hated road.  I was not swayed. 

Now I just found out my current salon is closing and all the stylists are moving.  To the same location as my ex-stylist.  See?  See why the "fading into the wild blue yonder" is not going to work?  How can I possibly go to this new salon, with my "newer, younger model" stylist and risk seeing my ex-stylist, who I didn't officially break up with.  I just tried disappearing and it.didn't.work.

My husband thinks this is all silly.  It's "business" and it happens all the time.  "Clients come and go, no matter what the business is.  Just say 'hi' to her and keep going."  As a massage therapist, I totally get this.  And it doesn't bother me if a client starts seeing one of my colleagues.  Really, it doesn't.  So I should be able to apply that to this situation, right?  But I will have to SEE her and feel like I need to explain myself.  I will stumble over my words, make a fool of myself and maybe even shed a tear of shame.

I am not good at this cheating thing.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

How to get a van of teenage boys to be totally silent.

I was listening to some tunes today on my iPod and one of my all time favorites came on.  It's Metro by Berlin.  This song was popular in the 80's, so depending on your age, you may not be familiar with it.  I highly suggest you check it out.

Anyway, it came on a while back.  I didn't realize I had downloaded the live version.  I had my 13 yr. old and a couple of his friends in the van with me when it came on.  I had turned it up and was jammin' away and they were busy chatting amongst themselves.  Towards the end of the song, the lead singer screams into the microphone, "You know what the greatest thing about being a woman is?  The older we get, the better sex is!"  There was already a lull in the teenage boy conversation, and this comment made that lull turn into an eternal silence.  I had to turn to look out the window to keep from giggling.  They were all just sitting there staring straight ahead pretending like they hadn't heard anything.  They had uncomfortable looks in their eyes and were wriggling in there seats.  I think they were each trying to plan there escape from my van.

When it became clear that none of these boys intended on saying another word, I started talking.  They were very relieved.  Now I guess I should delete that version of the song from my iPod.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Do they have hormone therapy for this?

I have lots and lots of friends with girls.  I hear moms say all the time about how difficult the teen years are for girls - the moodiness, the crying, the yelling, the hair pulling.  I remember how difficult those days were.

I have all boys.  I thought I would miss out on the above drama.

I was wrong.  Well, except for the hair pulling (unless of course you include the occasional tug one makes on another's hair during a wrestling match).

My 13 year old is unpredictable.  Sweet, talkative, willing to help one minute.  The next minute?  Run for cover.

The other day we were having a nice chat about school, a project he was working on, upcoming fun stuff.  I asked him to do something.  Something simple.  Like put away the milk or throw away a napkin.  Oh.my.god.  His head spun around like Linda Blair and I am pretty sure he started to salivate.  Then came the barrage of words, "What?  You are SO mean!  No one else's mom asks them to do stuff like that.  Why do you read my Facebook stuff?  You are stalking my friends!  No one else's mom does that.  Why can't I have a laptop?  Everyone else has one.  I can't believe you expect me to pay for half of a laptop if I want one.  How dare you.  If you loved me you would go buy one right this instant."  These are not exact quotes during this specific conversation, but they have pretty much all been said at some inapporpriate point in time.

I seriously think I am going to look into bio-identical hormone therapy for moody teen boys.  In the meantime, if you all hear of anything that doesn't include boot camp, please let me know!

Monday, October 11, 2010

Who's in need of a good night of sleep?

Fadra, at all.things.fadra, is giving away a Tempur Cloud Tempurpedic Supreme Mattress.  For anyone who does not know Fadra, let me tell you, she is the luckiest person I have ever met.  I think I should have rubbed up against me at BlogHer to see if some of that luck would rub off on me.  Yes, it would have looked weird, but who really cares?  Thousands of bloggers registered at BlogHer to win this awesome mattress.  Did I win?  No.  I think you can guess who did.  Fadra.  I won't even go into the list of things she has won in the short time since we first met on that August morning at BlogHer.

Anyway, as you can see from this entry and from my video below - I.want.to.win.

So here is the video I am entering in hopes of winning this awesome prize!

video

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Where everybody knows your name...

Maybe not everybody knows my name, but one guy does.  There is a restaurant I go to on a regular basis.  I tend to prefer mom and pop type places, but this one is a chain.  Abuelo's.  Yum.  My family is not big on Mexican food, but I love it.  So I pop in here at least once a moth for lunch.  By myself.  With a book.  It never fails I get the same waiter or I at least sit near his section and he stops to say hello.  I get the same thing every time and he knows it.  I don't even really have to order, he just comes up and verifies that I want what I want. 

It feels kind of freaky.  Like I have some kind of OCD tendencies with Abuelo's.  Same food.  Same drink.  Always a book.  Always alone.  Always clean my plate.  Pay the same amount every time.  I often wonder if the staff sees me coming and they say to one another, "Here comes that weird woman.  You know, the crazy one,"?  I wonder what he would do if I came in with a friend, because I think he thinks I have no friends.  Or if I ordered something different.  Or if I didn't have a book.  Maybe he's a little OCD, too, and it would set him off in some kind of panic attack, crying in the corner while sucking his thumb. 

I think it's better if I just stick to my routine.  We'll all feel better.

(I will be absent for a few days due to THIS.)

Monday, October 4, 2010

And so it continues...

Though the Great BlogHer Wipeout of 2010 happened two months ago, the story continues.  I have been having physical therapy twice a week.  Have you ever been to physical therapy?  It hurts.  And I am jealous of all those people with feet disorders, like plantar fasciitis, who get to go there and do some stretching and then get a 15 minute foot massage.  I start drooling when I see those people getting a foot rubdown and I want to push them off the table and stick my foot in the hands of the PT.  Anyway, I made huge improvements the first few weeks and then seemed to come to a standstill.  Plus my arm was hurting and aching on a regular basis.  I let my PTs know, but we thought it was just sore from, well, from being broken and dislocated.  However, I then started noticing how much it hurt down in the joint.  I was not improving in my flexion and extension.  I saw the surgeon again.  An x-ray confirmed that the bone fragments that broke off of the humerus bone, the ones we were hoping would be secured and stuck in scar tissue, had floated down into the joint and the cartilage.  Ouch!  The result of all this - surgery.  So that will be this week and then I am back to physical therapy.  I wonder if while my arm is in a cast if I can swing into the PTs office for a foot massage?

One of these days, I hope to return to work.  I am sure by now all of my massge therapy clients have moved on to other therapists!  Thankfully, my employer is very flexible.  When I do return, it will be at my own pace and at my own desired schedule.

Friday, October 1, 2010

You say it's your birthday? Well, it's my birthday, too!

Though I have no problem tooting my own birthday horn, that is not what I am going to write about today.  Well, not directly anyway.

I grew up with a boy.  I have known him since kindergarten.  We graduated HS together.  He was the first boy to give me a kiss.  In kindergarten.  We have always been friends.  We don't have a lot in common any more, but I do love it when I run into him when we happen to be in our hometown at the same time, usually for some kind of reunion.

I have a good friend that I met in HS.  We graduated together and went on to college together.  We live hours apart now, but still talk several times a year, Facebook together, and see each other a couple of times every year or two.

We all three share the same birthday.  Today.  Two of us are 43, and Leslie Ann is 42 (bitch!).  I can guarantee you, all three of us are thinking about each other today.  It was always fun sharing our birthdays together at school.  Once we were in college and we would all three be home for a holiday, we'd always talk about what we did that year to celebrate.  Every year, on this day, while I wallow in my own party, I wonder what they are doing.  This year, thanks to FB, I will probably know, at least a little!

Though neither of them read here, I hope my birthday buddies are having a great day!