29 December, 2009

Someone has a Hitchcock thing...

So I've noticed that when I drive by the "seedy" section of town in the evenings, there's one particular spot along the road where the birds gather. And I don't just mean a few birds, or a flock. I mean all the flocks in the area seem to congregate right by the Adult Bookstore (that's actually the name of the store...original, huh?). We're talking about THOUSANDS of birds, cawing and flapping their wings, and hovering over the creepy, super-shady looking Adult Bookstore. It's like a scene straight out of The Birds.

Which got me to thinking. Do you suppose this is some sort of crazy plot by the anti-porn league? They take turns coming by the store every day to toss birdseed into the trees, and all over the parking lot? Maybe someone's a Hitchcock fan (or found out the the Adult Bookstore owner had a traumatic experience with The Birds as a child?) and they're trying to bring down the Fort Lauderdale smut industry with birdseed alone?

Did I mention I've had a very odd day, and that I don't really know what I'm saying right now? In retrospect, perhaps this wasn't the day to write a blog entry....

20 December, 2009

Sorry I've been MIA...

A informs me that I've been MIA from my blogging friends for too long. She's probably right. I just haven't really known what to post. My cousin's death hit me harder than I thought it would. Everyone seems to think I should be over it already, and whether they're right or wrong, I'm not. And I'm so tired of people telling me to keep my chin up and cheer up. If I don't want to be cheery, that's my prerogative, isn't it? And since when is anyone else allowed to tell me how to mourn? Mourning is a personal thing, and everyone deals with it differently. And I refuse to kowtow to people who don't know me that well, and haven't been through anything like this themselves. I'll get through this the best way I know how, thank you very much. I'm not about to let anyone else dictate my emotions for me.

And because of that, I've gotten pretty good at faking being happy. Fake it 'til you make it, right? I can fake it at work, and I've mastered faking it for the family. There are a few people who know me well enough to see through that though. Even though they're not here, just by talking to me on the phone, they can tell that I'm not okay. I'm trying though. I'm working on it.

And in that spirit....snarkiness! I was treating myself to a pedicure today (a peppermint mocha pedicure, complete with a Starbucks Peppermint Mocha!), and getting my toes painted BRIGHT red (Comet Loves Cupid Red) for Christmas. The woman who I ordinarily get my pedicures from was on vacation, so I got someone new, and I swear by the Powers That Be, I will never go to her ever again. It was the single most uncomfortable experience I've ever had in a spa...and not because the pedicure was bad, or painful. Because the entire time this woman (50yrs old she was made sure to tell me) was regaling me with stories of her new boyfriend. Her new, younger boyfriend. Who's apparently a tiger in the sack (her words, not mine). I was fighting not to cringe the whole time. And I kept changing the subject every time she brought it back around to her bedroom activities, but dear sweet mother of God, who thinks that's appropriate? I've never even met this woman before, and she's going into this kind of explicit detail? Shudder...never again.

Okay, I think that's enough for my first blog entry back...I've gotta go straighten up the house now...my parents arrive this week, which means the cleaning service arrives this week. It's my way of saying "Merry-Stress-Free Christmas to me!!"

Hope everyone's last-minute Christmas prep is going well!