I am feeling sort of better. You would think that by age 27, I would recognize when I am hormonal and over-emotional, but nope. It’s always in hindsight. At least I am shrinking again.
When I worked at the Scholarshop, my manager Karen was missing for a week and came back looking super tiny. We asked her what happened.
“I got the flu,” she bragged.
All the girls said, “You’re SOOOO LUCKY!!!”
It was wrong and silly but that is kind of how I feel right now. I am hoping to be sad for… oh, ten more pounds. Then I will get over it. Really, if I can lose 20 pounds from being sad then I will be forced to call that loser “The Greatest Thing That Ever Happened to Me.”
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This weekend was great. Janet has already posted some fun pictures of the Pancake Productions Party* but before I write about it, does anyone have a picture of Courtney hula-hooping with all those kids? That was one of the cutest things I have ever witnessed.
I also watched the Opening Ceremonies and I’m sure you did, too. Unbelievable. I know I’m politically supposed to hate China or whatever, but I have wanted to be Chinese ever since I saw “Big Bird Visits China” when I was three. HERE IS HOW LAME THAT GUY WAS: I asked him what he thought of the opening ceremonies and he said, “Eh.” Why does he hate everything that is awesome, like me? Pssh.
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My friends are amazing and I am lucky to have every single one of them. I have always had more guy friends than girlfriends, but as I get older I’m realizing how valuable the girlfriends truly are, even the brand new ones. I am in awe of how quickly their words dry up my tears and repair the damage he did.
Don’t get me wrong, the dude friends are all amazing too, in that tough and tactful dude friend way. I hope to be as good of a friend as everyone is to me… though I never want my friends to be sad. You know what I mean.
I had a revelation the other day about treating someone like crap and it really upset me. Since I don’t have to focus on anyone else right now, I feel like I should put more energy towards being a better person. Listening more. Advanced consideration. Not smoking. Barely drinking. Running daily. Eating better once I start eating again. Making presents. Hula hooping. Stuff like that.
I’m still in that phase where there’s so much I want to tell him because I’m used to talking to him every day. The fact that I can still tell (almost) everything to you makes this much easier. Thank you for that.
*PEE PEE PARTY lol lol lol
Secretly Stephie 
You know, when all of a sudden a person you told tons of things to all day long suddenly isn’t the person to tell these things to, that is hard. I know. I am coming up on a month of that crap! It subsides, though, of course. In fact, now I’m a bit more like “I wouldn’t want to tell that person this anyway, they JUST AREN’T AWESOME ENOUGH ANYMORE!”
BONANZA!
Yeah man, I think that is the hardest part every time.
The WORST is when they’re the person you call when you’re sad. Because when they dump you, you instinctively want to call them right back to cry about it.
I WILL write an entry about that BBQ soon – IT WAS SO GREAT.
Hofe, yeah, try getting dumped when you were never even going out. AND/OR try getting dumped by the “never answers or returns phone calls or E-Mails so you don’t even really know what’s wrong, but of course/obviously something is” method. It has been rough but it is downhill from here. I think it has been downhill since two weekends ago in fact. I am flying downhill at an alarming rate. It is liberating to no longer give an elf.
Aaaggh I am prescribing you fun stuff!!! Have you ever considered a Buffy club? No? Okay. Well let’s hang more anyways.
Also: Charles I need a full recap of your hand + super glue + whiskey. I remember you hollering about it, but at that point I was throwing grass at Rob Ruz.
Well, Janterneternet might be better at recalling it. I was drunk at the time, but from my best recollections:
dude asked for a volunteer
i volunteered
dude handed me a tube of stuff and said, “super glue yourself to anything you want”
I first thought about superglueing myself to Ann, because she was right there in front of me, but then decided she might not appreciate it and dropped the idea. (I still chuckle at the idea of chasing her around the garage with my glue covered hands like a zombie from a Romero movie)
I then decided that the whiskey bottle was the best choice
so i put a healthy helping of the glue on my hand, grab the whiskey bottle out of the freezer with my glue covered hand, and then take a big swig of teh whiskay
i seem to remember looking around at the room triumphantly, and then realizing that I had just done something less than intelligent (“Why do things that happen to stupid people keep happening to me?”)
So, I try to make the best of it and ham it up a bit, shaking my hand comically and then eventually I think someone grabbed the bottle and I ripped my hand off of it, which actually hurt quite a bit, but I played it off like it hurt even more
so, yeah, something like that…
the moral of the story: just because someone asks you to superglue yourself to something doesn’t mean you should do it.
I guess this ranks up there with the time I got tackled by a burlesque dancer dressed as an Indian while I was dressed as a rabbit
ah, existence…
HAH HAH…Charles, he did NOT ask you to super-glue yourself to ANYTHING. He handed you a tube of super-glue and asked you to do WHATEVER YOU WANTED with it. Apparently the previous night in Kansas City, someone poured the glue all over his (Patrick’s) face, which is why there was an over-large cup full of water sitting on the ledge at the ready in the Garage Lodge (in case someone tried that same thing).
Admittedly super-glue is a pretty bold thing about which to tell someone “do anything with this that you want.” That’s performance art at its finest, baby.
I am all about a BUFFY club actually, but I really think we need to do a Classic DEGRASSI club too at some point (KIDS OF DEGRASSI STREET>>DEGRASSI JUNIOR HIGH>>DEGRASSI HIGH).