Happy birthday, dear WB!!!!

You cradle robber! Dating a woman 11 years younger! Ah, but in 12 days I shall be a mere 10 years younger. For those who don't know the back story, WB is now 57 and I am 46, soon to be 47 and waaaay too close to 50. Damn, we are old!

So this is what closure feels like!

Every day my mind drifts back to Toxic Jock, for a little bit. And with every passing day, I relive the events of 2003 and realize that WB was right.

Me: But feelings like that couldn't just evaporate overnight! He has to still feel something!

WB: Look, I'm a guy. Been there, done that. Guys will say or do ANYTHING if they think it's going to get them laid.

Me: No, no, I know genuine emotion when I see it!

WB: Read. My. Lips. And see above.

Grossly paraphrased, but you get the idea. Bottom line: Every time I relive the situation in my head, it becomes clearer and clearer that WB was right. I got played like a Stradifuckinvarius. Memo to any guys reading this who are desperate to get laid: Play the "I can't deal with being just friends. I gotta have more because you are so special" card. Memo to any women reading this who are dealt that card: RUN SCREAMING IN THE OTHER DIRECTION.

So. I got played. I not only realize that now, but accept it. He's an asshole. He's still entertaining, but nowhere near as compelling as he used to be. Podcasts are white noise to block out annoying chitchat at work, not words to hang onto.

In other news: A most excellent night of Hedonism. HR has transformed from an annoying, screaming toddler into a lovely soon-to-be-woman who has inherited her momma's pipes and her daddy's musicianship. AF has transformed from a li'l Cabbage Patch Kid clone (What? Cabbage Patch Kids are cute) into a cool chick with a tat and red dreads who sings Joni Mitchell songs better than Joni.

Still other news: I called my mom on Thanksgiving and it didn't suck! No guilt trips, no "why don't you call more often?" Just two girls updating each other's lives and even cracking jokes:

Mom: "I'm getting fitted for hearing aids, and that's a pain in the ass."

Me: "Ma ... they don't go in your ass."

Mom: ::cracks up::

Either they served good wine with Thanksgiving dinner at the senior complex, or my mama has finally figured out that (a) she will never understand me, (b) I will never be the stereotypical dutiful daughter and (c) she's cool with that. Either way, it's all good.

Still more news: A family I adore is expecting an addition! Yaay!

Hungover, hormonal and happy

H1 because the party was at my house so I didn't have to stop at three beers. H2 because it's That Time, and the closer I get to the big M the more hormonal I get at That Time. H3 because I have the greatest friends EVAH, and the past 24 hours have been filled with their presence. Even if I don't get to eat turkey on Thursday -- which will probably be the case since the usual suspects will be out of town -- I can still give thanks. This is me starting early.

Did I mention my peeps rock?

GET OFF MY RADIO, BITCH!!!!!!

There, I'm over it. No, really. I'm over it.

Your turn, Bean. Mrs. Pi and I have both posted blog entries with the B word in the title. Just hoping yours doesn't say "NiiceLaady (or Mrs. Pi) is a bitch"! Maybe something about Jefferson? She's a bitch in a good way!

Good things about my life: Many awesome friends who will be coming here Saturday. Many others who won't but I still love them. Made all deadlines at work so holiday moveup won't be horrendous. Got my health and all my faculties, etc., etc. (knocking wood -- thanks, Mom).

Things that could be better: Cats thinking outside the box. Much to do in the next couple of days, and not much time. Body playing annoying premenopausal games. Imminent birthday making me feel old (speaking of annoying and premenopausal).

Good outweighs bad, though; it always does. I am off to the Land of Confusion to share some thoughts on recycling and television (unrelated, although TV does an awful lot of recycling). Cheers!

Corned beef enchiladas, anyone?

Yes, kids, there is an Irish-Mexican restaurant in beautiful downtown Troylet. It's called Jose Malone's. No, they don't serve corned-beef enchiladas, but being new, they have a very limited, and rather disappointing, IMO, menu. Those who had the beef Guinness stew were not happy about its excessive sweetness. I had the salad and was displeased to find it did not come with cheese (despite the menu saying it did) and no dressing. Basically greens, a few pieces of chicken, tomatoes and carrots. Pico de gallo and cheese dip were good, although being on Atkins, I had to use a fork instead of chips to get any.

But not a total loss, as I got to hang with WB, JB, PB and GDA -- who continues to be awesome and gave me some excellent insights into bipolar folk (extremely charismatic -- check -- big fat liars -- check -- conscience-challeged playas -- check -- who believe their own lies -- probably check). And Jose's had Fuller's ESB on tap, and the brewpub (where we started the evening) had oatmeal stout on special. My tastebuds thank you, my liver thanks you, and my wallet thanks you.

Attempt to get new friends here next weekend is not going well. Digigal is on the fence, RF is unavailable, Mrs. Pi gave me an "I'll think about it" and June C. is MIA. That last one hurts the most, but I have resolved to not let it break my heart if this turns out to be one of those friendships that just fizzles out. I adore her, and it would suck if she doesn't want to be friends anymore, but I will always be grateful she was there a year ago. If not for her, I might be in Four Winds today -- or in the ground.

But I have gazillions of old friends, and they are the bestest people in the world, and a bunch of them will be here next Saturday, and I will have a blast with them even if none of the newbies makes it.

BTW, the folks with whom I have shared the existence of this blog are pretty much the same folks who are invited next weekend. If you are reading this and did not get an invitation, it's probably because I figured you wouldn't be able to attend because of distance, allergies or previous commitments. If you are free, willing to make the drive and can tolerate the three cats, consider yourself invited and e-mail me for directions.

Time to go give Home Depot a bunch of money to make this place suitable for entertaining.

Lukewarm turkey

Between the fact that I worked some late hours last week and a certain individual's computer issues that kept new podcasts from being posted, and the fact I can no longer download them in their entirety at work, I have been less exposed to Toxic Jock recently, and this has helped.

I have not totally cut TJ out of my life (see subject line). I still drive home via Saratoga because the signal comes in sooner that way, and I still tune out when he's talking to Marcia. But I find myself revisiting the acute Toxic Jock Syndrome period less and less. And when I do, my thoughts are along the lines of: All those words I hung on and believed every bit of -- so much of it was bullshit! All I have to do is listen to the live spots. Companies he praised to the skies once upon a time have fallen off the radar or have become active dissing targets. Like me.

What is so tragic about no longer being part of his world? The same thing that sucks about being a Baldwin (tm "South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut"): NOTHING!!!!!

If blogspot, like livejournal, had the "current music" option, right about now mine would be Christine Lavin's "What Was I Thinking?"