man-friend


I was unfaithful to my hairdresser today.  Unfortunately, my hairdresser is also one of my best friends.  We’ve had our share of trouble getting my blonde just right, and I finally couldn’t take it anymore.  The back-breaker was when I lifted the top section of hair to blow dry the bottom and noticed striping.  That’s just not okay.  I’m very picky about my hair, and I can’t take that kind of screwed up shit.  If she sees me before I leave town again, I’m going to say D made me do it before the competition because my roots were so bad.

Which leads me to the competition.  We did the Edward G. Picken Pro-Am in Reston, Virginia.  Leading up to it, I kept hearing about how the judges were super-tough and we probably wouldn’t do well since we come from somewhere besides D.C. and aren’t used to their standards and it was going to be a bloodbath for us, blah blah blah.  Nothing like confidence-boosting.  D’s other adult that was going and I were in tears every day, ready to quit the whole sport since we apparently suck and shouldn’t be allowed on the ice with these magical East Coast skaters and all that crap.  Oh, also there would be eleventy billion of them, so we might as well get used to the fact that we were going to come in eleventy billionth.  I was in the car with D when he was on speakerphone with a former student who was talking about all this and asking if he had prepared us for this massacre.  Fucking awesome.  She’s so not my favorite right now.

So that’s the mindset I went to Virginia with.  Oh, and on top of that, the other adult D was taking has tested a level above me but since she hasn’t completed the level, she was allowed to compete at my level as well as hers.  So I figured she would come in second to last and I would be dead last.  When we got there, we found out there were only four of us competing at our level, but that they had had to combine age divisions to get that many.  So we were competing against younger people on top of everything else, but at least there weren’t very many people.  But still, as D would say, fuck me in the gonads.  Needless to say, I was rather unpleasant to be around.  I was going to come in fourth out of four and have some eighteen year old kick my ass.

We finally got to competition day, and I guess I was so resigned to losing that I was pretty relaxed during the practice session that morning.  D was pleasantly surprised by that – the relaxed part, not the resigned part.  When we got to the rink that afternoon for the actual competition, they were running behind schedule, so there was a lot of sitting around waiting.  Then I stood around.  Then I stretched for a bit.  Then I sat some more.  Then I said to fuck with it and put my skates on just for something to do.  Then I stood around some more.  Dude, that is a crazy maker!

Once our warm-up started, I got nervous.  Skating is a funny sport.  When you’re nervous, your knees don’t bend anymore, and if there’s one thing you need to skate, it’s knee-bend.  This always happens to me in test sessions, and then I really freak out and my legs shake.  It wasn’t as bad as my last test though.  I didn’t try to jump over the glass and escape the arena.  Anyway, I had to skate first, so I went straight from warm-up to performing.  I felt like my ChaCha was okay – there was stuff I’d have done differently if I’d been thinking straight, like put my head where it was supposed to be on the end pattern, but at least I wasn’t looking down.  For once.  My Fiesta Tango was pretty gross.  I screwed up the turn both times.  It was a nervous and scrapy turn.

I got to see the other skaters go, and at the end I felt like I had a decent chance for third place because the fourth girl was very very very nervous and it made her have giraffe legs and just overall she wasn’t very good (and now I’m going to hell).  I didn’t say anything to D about it and he didn’t say anything to me.  We went over the corrections (actually I told him what I wanted to fix, and he agreed), and then I changed into street clothes and went to Starbucks.  When I was in ballet, when you were done, you changed and left.  No big deal.

It’s apparently different in skating … while I was gone, I missed the scores going up.  It’s not like on TV where you sit in the little area (I REFUSE to call it “kiss and cry”.  That’s fucking absurd) and somebody announces them.  They print them out and post them on the wall.  I wasn’t even planning on looking at the scores – my original plan was to treat this like a recital and not worry about placement since it was my first competition and all that.  But since I thought I maybe had won third place, I went and checked.  D was on the ice with L and M getting ready for their stuff on Saturday, so I didn’t have anyone to help me read them.  It was very confusing since I skated first, and I kept showing up first, so I thought that that explained my name being up top on both dances.  The scores were done in ordinals, so you could see your placement from each judge.  That just confused me more.  Mine looked like this: 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 and 1 1 1 1 1 2 3 11.  I finally found a skater from Dallas to help me read the things, and she told me I won.  WTF???  And there was no-one to hug because they were all still on practice ice.  So I went to watch the rest of the day’s events.  When it was over, I found D.  He said, “Did you see the results?”  I said yes, and he said, “Here you go” and he handed me my medal.  I said Judge number 7 was clearly not a fan of mine.  Then we went back to the hotel and had sex.  I’m sure you wanted to know that!

Anyway, later on, he kept asking if I had called my parents, so I finally did.  My mom asked if there had been a medal ceremony.  Um, oops, yeah there had been, but I was at Starbucks.  I MISSED my damn medal ceremony!  It hadn’t even dawned on me that there had been one.  I was pretty appalled, but D said it’s no big deal at stuff like this – most people miss theirs.

So here’s how everyone else did:  In that same Pre-Bronze event, D’s other adult came in second.  She won her Bronze event, and she came in fourth out of 13 in the Open Willow Waltz event.  I was supposed to be in that too, but when I screwed up my knee, we pulled out.  Little M (she’s ten years old and has been dancing for just a couple of months, but she does do freestyle) came in fourth out of ten in her Pre-Bronze event and seventh out of eleven in her Bronze event which was really good because it was skating up a level for her and most of the girls in it should’ve been up a level or two.  D said that that age group gets really fucked up because girls won’t test until they find partners even if they are way beyond that level.  So we did pretty well.  D was happy with us.  It’s good for him too because it gets his name out there as a coach.

While I was there, the baby that my sister and brother-in-law are adopting was born.  The birth parents have signed the relinquishment papers and all that, so we’re in the waiting period with all the legal crap.  They should have the baby home by next Friday, but as Jason said, nothing has gone exactly as they’ve said it would, so who knows?  But they’re for sure getting her, so I’m an auntie now!  Yay!!!  Kim and Jason have been with the baby, and they met the birth parents and grandparents and all that.  The dad was having a little more trouble than the mom with the decision, but he said after he met Kim and Jason, he felt really good about it.  He was starting to scare everyone before that though.  My mom’s in Austin with them waiting out the waiting period.  They’re getting the nursery ready and all that.  I sent a box of clothes and diapers and other random baby stuff yesterday.  When Munchkin gets back from camp (he leaves Monday), we’ll go down there too.  The baby should be there by then for sure!

P.S. I’m having trouble with the ding-dang spell checker again.  Sorry for my oopses!

Is that even how you spell “jinx”?  I guess I’ll find out when I spellcheck which will render this sentence totally useless.  I’m hoping my ridiculously long absence will make you so happy to read anything I have to say that you won’t care if my sentences are tossers.  Heh.  Even Stephen King doesn’t have such luck.

Anyway, what I’m afraid of jinxing (is that a word?) is the house situation.  D and I found a house we both love in NM, and I had a realtor come by today (yep, on Mother’s Day.  I never said I was a nice person) to look at my house.  She wants to price it $20K above my best hopes.  Apparently tricking out the kitchen will pay off.  We’ll see, but I was pretty damn stoked.  She seemed to be too – I did a lot of upgrading to this house which just about excited the pants off her.  It’s good because the market in NM is much pricier than in TX.  I’m going to lose 1,000 square feet for a similarly priced and optioned house.  It sucks!  Texas is lovely in that way – everything is dirt cheap here.  I’m not sure where NM gets off pricing the way they do since I personally feel they’re the fourth worst state (1. NJ, 2. Miss, 3. Nev, and 4. NM – just my opinion and it’s based on the fact that people in my family are from these places and can tell you so.  Or in the case of NM, I’ve lived there and I know it’s a shithole.  We haven’t lived in Mississippi though.  They’re on my list because of their poverty and educational problems.  Sorry if I’ve offended, but honestly, if you’re from one of these places, then you of all people should know what a cesspool suckfest you live in).  I think NM sucks because it’s brown brown and more brown.  If you like rocks and dead looking plant-like things, go live there.  You’ll be very happy.  Also they have a state income tax and yet they still tax the groceries.  Texas doesn’t have a state income tax and we still don’t pay tax on food.  WTF?  The schools suck in NM and the drivers are all insane.  When I lived there before, they all went about ten miles below the speed limit.  It was like everyone was stoned.  They’re all on crystal meth now and they’ll blow by you going 90 in a 45.  Stupid fuckers.  And yet, I’m choosing to move there.  So I’m not allowed to complain about it anymore.  I’ll make fun, but I won’t bitch.  Yeah right!

I have a competition this coming weekend, so I won’t be around AGAIN.  It’s craptacular because I’m not online reading anyone else’s stuff or writing my stuff.  I feel pretty disconnected, but once things settle down and I’m not the traveling queen … well, it’ll be better someday!

D finished his CHLclass this weekend.  After sitting in a classroom for about twelve hours learning random shit, much of which had nothing to do with carrying a concealed handgun (e.g., if you’re being forced to suck a dick, bite it off.  Seriously.  It kind of turned into a general self-defense/cornhole protection class), he had to sit through a basic “How to Shoot Your Gun” class.  You might wonder why people who are interested in carrying might need such a class.  You might assume, like D and I did, that people in the CHL class have shot before and have actually practiced for the shooting accuracy portion of the course (D got 100% on that part, by the way).  Well, you would be wrong.  There were people in that class who had never touched a gun.  That’s right.  They’ve never touched a gun, yet they want to carry one around on their person.  And to think, New Mexico is one of the stricter states on this whole issue.  I was shocked!  I don’t know how to fix it without putting actual shooters through hellacious hours of boredom and drudgery, but I think they should somehow separate experienced people (like D) from inexperienced people (like me).  Anyway, he wants me to take the class whether I ever actually use a CHL or not.  And he thinks I should carry a knife.  This class made an already paranoid man positively neurotic.  He and his mom were hanging out today when someone knocked on the door.  D answered it with a Glock behind his back.  It was UPS.  Duuuude.  But I guess after hearing all the stories about most home invasions occuring when you LET someone in your house (salesman, lady with a baby, gas company guy saying there’s a leak, etc), you might get a bit skittish.

Anyway … my mom had her face lift today.  This was not my favorite thing ever since she’s a transplant patient, but like I said to her, there are people much smarter than I am making the decision that this is an okay idea.  My sister disagrees.  My main worry is infection.  On Wednesday, I’m going to stop by and see how she and Kathy are doing.  Kathy is a close friend of hers who is coming over to take care of her, but Kathy isn’t so great with gross stuff, and this is really disgusting oozy gross stuff.  I’ll tell you all about it after I’ve seen it.  I will not suffer icky shit alone, damn it!  Thursday and Friday I have her on my own, and Monday I take her to get the staples taken out.  That makes me have to gag a little bit.  Tuesday I go back out to New Mexico to meet D’s sister and aunt and uncle.  I’m also starting my house search that week.

As far as moving out there goes, I hope that I’m doing the right thing.  I think I am, but there’s always that part of me that worries that I’ll get out there and he’ll change his mind and I’ll have moved for nothing.  He seems to be ready for it.  I think with guys that once they’ve decided they want to be with you (as D puts it, “I’m ready to not have sex with anyone else for the rest of my life”, heh), then that’s it, they want to be with you and the game is over.  It’s that old thing where guys operate in the black and white, and girls live in the gray.  It’s hard being away too.  The weekends are so trying.  I’m not busy and I have nothing but time to think and get worried and be sad.  I was watching Big Brother, and that idiot Jen wrote in Ryan’s letter something like, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but nobody tells you how much it will make your heart hurt.”  I burst out crying at that.  It’s so true.  My heart hurt so much this weekend even though D was calling me during breaks in his class and texting me and all that.  It just hurts my whole body to be away from him.  Thank God it’s the week now and I’m very busy!  Yep, so busy I’m sitting here on the internetz.  So I just have to get through one more weekend before I see him again.  Gak, what a baby.  Seriously.  I mean, think of all the women who have husbands away in the armed forces and have to not only be away from them, but have the additional worry of something happening.  I need to grow the fuck up already and just deal with it.  

Apparently when you go out of town, you’re supposed to let the neighbors know so they don’t think your corpse is rotting in your house.  Oops, my bad.  Long story short, I now know my across the street neighbors.  I didn’t know they watched my comings and goings so closely, but they were like, “Yeah, we normally see you come and go, so when we didn’t for so long, we got worried.  And plus, we know you’d never let your yard go like this, so we thought something was really wrong.”  Heh about the yard.  It looked so bad when I got home, and I had another nasty note from the HOA with the threat of a fine if I don’t hurry up and fix it.  So I spent today fixing it.  Or at least a fourth of it.  I still have a ways to go.  The yard guy comes Saturday though, so I’ll water Saturday night and then spread the weed killer/fertilizer I got today on Sunday morning.  That’s how the Lowe’s guy said to do it anyway.  I also got this nifty tool for pulling weeds but managed to break it already.

My trip was good.  The ice in Albuquerque is super hard and I don’t like it.  D’s mom said if I can skate on it, then I can skate on anything.  That’s good news since the ice in Reston is supposedly shit.  Don’t get a literal vision of that if you can help it.  She’s also fixing my dresses.  One needs altering and all of them need stones.  All I had were clear Swarovskis, but she said to use the colored ones.  Luckily she has like eleventy billion of them from stoning D’s costumes back in his competitive days.

We saw “The Ruins” while I was there.  Don’t bother.  It wasn’t at all what I expected.  I thought it would be more adventure-y, but it was kind of a gore-fest.  We also hiked a trail that I used to go on when I lived there, but since it’s still kind of cold none of the pretty stuff has bloomed.  The most interesting thing on the trail was the sheer amount of dog shit.  I was kind of shocked.  You would think that the kind of people who hike trails would be the kind of people who would know to pick up their dog’s crap.  Ew.  We also went shooting one day.  I sucked so much ass.  My targeting was okay, but it was taking me about twenty minutes between shots.  It got so bad that D finally unloaded the gun and had me shoot it dry to get my comfort level back up.  Then on my last clip of the day, I pulled the trigger and nothing happened.  So with the gun still pointing downrange (VERY IMPORTANT), I turned my head and said, “It’s not working” and then the damn thing shot.  I still hit the target, but not where I intended.  So I learned if you think the gun isn’t working, take your finger off the trigger.  I’m a dumbass who shouldn’t be allowed to handle weapons.  D said it happens to everyone though.  Somehow that failed to make me feel better.  Oh, he got his other AK-47 yesterday and shot it today.  He’s more in love with it than he is with me.  That’s okay, I’m secure in the knowledge that there are things I can do for him that a gun can’t.  Though if he says anything about a gun is better than sex again …

Okay, I have Big Brother After Dark on, and we’ve been watching Adam read a bible for like forty minutes.  Oh for Pete’s sake, if there’s nothing going on in the house, put together some footage from when there was interesting stuff going on and let us watch that.  What I want to know is why I haven’t changed the channel.  Ah, it must be that dumbass thing happening again.  I is smrt.

I’m writing this down here so hopefully I’ll remember to do it later, but I need to write about my child’s latest escapade and the weird ass dream I had while in New Mexico.

I came back from New Mexico with a stomach virus and finally went to the doctor today because I can’t take it anymore.  Unfortunately since it’s a virus, there’s not really anything they can do for me so I have to take it some more whether I want to or not.  Assholes.

The flight out there was fine.  I was all Xanex-y so I didn’t much care about the tiny bit of turbulence we had or anything like that.  I was crying when I got on the plane since they hadn’t kicked in yet, but the flight attendant was really sweet and got me a front row seat (I flew Southwest and got just about the last boarding pass because I’m dumb and didn’t check in online).  She even came and sat by me during take-off and held my hand.

D (this would be Man-Friend, but I figure we’ve dispensed with the disguises) met me at the first place you’re allowed to meet people at the Albuquerque airport.  I do miss the days of being able to meet people at the gate.  We went to lunch and then got checked into the hotel and all that.  He had to teach for a little bit that evening, so I slept off the remainder of the Xanex and played with my DS.

On Saturday we went to the zoo when he was done teaching.  I’ve never seen so many tattoos in one place.  I saw one dude who had his entire family rendered on his belly (so yeah, he was shirtless.  Can anyone say “Classy”?).  The animals looked depressed.  D said they looked like they were waiting for extinction.

Sunday was meet the parents day.  We were both so nervous, and I mean ridiculously nervous, like to the point of saying stupid shit like, “One night stands are so much easier than this.”  Oops.  They were nice though.  His mom is very blunt, but not towards me.  It’s just like if she’s thinking something, she says it, and she says exactly how she feels about it.  His dad’s somewhat quieter.  We went back to their house and watched a movie and hung out for a bit before heading back to the hotel.

Oh, they wanted to make sure I came back while D’s aunt is there.  That’s at the end of the month.  It’s going to be a very full house, but apparently she’s an awesome cook so the food will be plentiful and good, yay!  The sister who’s going to grill me and make sure her brother isn’t a boy-toy to me will be there too.  Also I’m going back next week and will be staying there then too.

Leaving was awful.  We both wanted me to stay longer.  That’s where this is so hard.  You get there and you want to stay.  You get home and you want to go back.  You’re there and dreading leaving the whole time.  You send your itinerary to him and he says, “You should stay longer.”  I wish I could!  Right now I’m counting down the days til I go back.  So yeah, that sucks ass.

Anyway, Albuquerque has changed more than I thought it would.  For one thing, they have lots of restaurants now.  When I lived there, they had this huge deal where they didn’t want chain restaurants invading the city.  Uh, too bad guys.  You’re as chainy as Dallas now.  The service is much better now too.  I think that goes along with having corporations running things.  They are still lousy about keeping your tea glass from going empty though.  I’m a thirsty girl.  The traffic is worse too.  D’s mom said the drunk driving problem is getting better, so at least there’s that.  It’s still fairly ugly and boring.  There’s nothing to do but eat there.  Well, there’s touristy stuff, but I did all that when I lived there, and D has no interest in that shit.  He hates Santa Fe, but he’s a fascist conservative, so it’s totally enemy territory to him.  They have hemp stores, so you can see where that might pose a problem for him.  I’ll tell ya though, so you can stay in your hotel room and have lots of sex, that’s for sure!!!  Sorry, that was tacky.

Oh, I cried while boarding the plane home too and got front-row again.  A travel tip from me to you.

I’m going to Albuquerque tomorrow to meet The Parents.  Scary scary scary!  I have to get on a plane too.  And one to come back as well, to which my mom said, “If you freak out and can’t get on the plane to come home, please remember that you aren’t stranded and you can rent a car.”  I’d rather fly than drive this one though.  It takes forever and there are long stretches between civilized areas.  It’s like you’re driving through the set of every Lifetime “Woman in Trouble” movie ever made.  So yeah, I’d rather be afraid for two hours than for twelve.

I started with both of my new coaches this week.  J is one I’ve had before – he would sub when D was out of town.  Nick is new to me, and he’s fun.  He’s very complimentary towards me, and he told the head coach, Pierre, that I have self-esteem issues and I’m too hard on myself.  Duh … but anyway, it’s all working fine.  I still miss having D as my coach though.

Well, that’s a short entry, but really, nothing else exciting is going on here.  Oh yeah, except for this.  My sister’s in Hawaii, but when she gets back, I’m going to KICK HER ASS.  She knew about me and Man-Friend, but I hadn’t told my parents yet.  No need now as she did it for me, which is why my mom knows I’m going this weekend and was able to say what she said up there ^.  Bitch is going down.  Seriously, why did she feel the need to do that?  I was gonna tell them when I was good and ready.  It wasn’t her place.  I’m so pissed!!!

I’m supposed to be skating, but I was up til 4 am on the phone (well, texting very naughty messages) with Man-Friend.  Since I didn’t make it to the rink, I’m supposed to be cleaning my wreck of a house.  I’ve unloaded the dishwasher and started a load of laundry, but the rest is kind of overwhelming, so I’m on the internetz instead.  Very productive.

Anyway, after all the texting, I woke up this morning really missing him.  I love waking up all intertwined with him.  We’re cuddle-bitches.  So to get myself out of the mopey-missing-him mood, I decided to think about the two things that are good about him not being here.  I’m amazed I could come up with anything, but here they are:

1.  I can eat all the damn cheese I want.  I’m lactose intolerant, but I love love love cheese.  I think I love it more than that Amy girl from Big Brother 2 (?) – the one with Marcellas.  I feel like it was 2, but I could easily be wrong.  When M-F is here, I don’t eat anything with cheese or creamy sauce or milk or anything else that would cause me to blow him out of the house with my lactose intolerant ass.  It’s so gross.  The night before last, I ate cheese enchiladas.  They are one of my all-time favorite foods, and they were fucking awesome until … ew.  No details necessary.  So it’s a good thing he wasn’t here for that.

2.  I don’t have to shave.  This may not seem like a big deal, but a) I’m not a natural blonde and I have very dark leg hair and very pale skin.  Even when I do shave, you can see the root dots on my legs.  Yuck.  And b) I’m a hairy monkey child.  I have enough hair for about three people.  I could give Adam Avitable a run for his money, and he is one hairy mo-fo.  I tried bikini waxing a while back, even going so far as to have a Brazilian for some time (and yes, it freaking hurt like childbirth).  The problem with waxing me is that I don’t get the promised four to six weeks.  No, I get maybe four days.  FOUR days, people!  Gosh!!!  I can’t ever go on Survivor no matter how bad I want to because they’d vote me off just having the nastiest bikini line ever.  For now, I figure I’ll shave on Saturdays just to keep from really turning into an ape, and then right before I go to New Mexico, I’ll weed-whack everything. 

So yeah, here I am sitting at my super dusty kitchen table because my desk is covered in crap, not cleaning my house and still unshowered and in jammies.  It’s 2:36 in the afternoon.  I’m disgusting.  Disgusting and I have leg hair so long you could braid it.  Oh, sexy mama! 

P.S.  I’ve added the man-friend category but haven’t gone back through to mark the other posts with it.  I’ll get around to it when I’m delaying cleaning out the garage or something.