Jackass of the Month

So Joel (who is NOT the Jackass of the Month, by the way) has this very cool medieval suit of armor that he got for free a few years ago because he has nice, interesting friends. We were invited to a Halloween party, and he wanted to wear it. So I decided it might be fun to be the Lady of Shalott. I love the poem, love the painting, planned my color scheme of my freshman dorm room around the poster. So I got a lantern, figured I'd carry a book of Alfred Lord Tennyson poems and some yarn, and asked if I could borrow a gold, circlet thing from one of his nice, interesting female friends to wear around my head. Fine, fine, fine.

So last Monday, I went to a costume shop, found a decent period dress costume I could make work, tried it on... It was okay. I had to try a couple of corsets and underdresses and such on before I found something workable. It took a while, and we all know how I just LOOOOVE trying on clothes anyway. Especially clothes other people have worn, like, a LOT. The costume guy kept recommending this dark one with a rose pattern that made me look like a couch. I wasn't irrationally insisting on an off-white dress with bell sleeves like the one in the painting, which they didn't have anyway. I just didn't want to look like a couch.

I finally found a costume that only worked because the off-white gathered underdress thingy showed off my boobs. I didn't look like a couch. A small loveseat, maybe, but not a couch. Still, I was hoping to find something a little more flattering, so I didn't want to put down a deposit if I didn't have to. The Costume Shop Guy was like, "No problem, I'll set it aside in the back for you. Give me a call tomorrow before 8 p.m. and let me know what you decide."

Great. I look in the phonebook, look around on the Internet, can't find a way to locate anything better without it costing a fortune, call the guy back and offer to give him a credit card number for the $20 deposit. "No problem," he says. "I remember you. You were funny. Just come in on Thursday or Friday. You can bring it back on Monday or Tuesday, whatever." Great, thanks.

Friday afternoon, I, Our Idiosyncratic Heroine, walk into the Costume Shop.

OIH: Hi. Um, I'm here to pick up the costume I tried on a few days ago.
JoTM: (blankly) Your name?
OIH: I'm Idiosyncratic Girl? The one with the Ren Fair style dress? We spoke on Tuesday?
JoTM: Oh, right. I remember you. Let me think about where it is.
OIH: You said you'd put it in the back?
JoTM: Yeah, I never got around to doing that. But I'm not worried about it. I haven't rented any of those out, so I'm sure it's here.
OIH: Ah. Yes. Well... Let's look.

And it isn't easy. I tried on a bunch on things when I was there before, and we were mixing and matching, and I don't have time to do it again.

OIH: It was blue with an off-white underdress thingy. A Chamois.
JoTM: It's called a CHENISE.
OIH: Oh, right. Sorry.
JoTM: Here it is.
OIH: That's green.
JoTM: Oh, you said blue. (holds up small one)
OIH: Nope, that's the one that was too small.
JoTM: Oh yeah. You needed one of the three bigger sizes.
OIH: Riiiight. (hurriedly looking through racks now) How do I know which one the bigger ones are?
JoTM: They look bigger than the others. Here's the rose-patterned one I think is pretty, but you were like, "Ewww."
OIH: Yeah, well... I just want to look, you know... Er, never mind
JoTM: It's the Friday before Halloween. What do you want from me?
OIH: I want the one I tried on on Monday, that you said you'd put in the back for me.
JoTM: Sorry. You want to go as an animal?
OIH: Not really. Let me look around a little. What... What's this?
JoTM: It's Little Miss Muffet.
OIH: So this butt-pillow thing is her tuffet?
JoTM: I guess.
OIH: Okay, well... Maybe I'll go to Party City and... what time do you close?
JoTM: PARTY CITY?!?! How can you even say that to me? I can't even look at you anymore.

Ack.

I fled. I went to Torrid. I improvised.. I called the boyfriend: "I am going to be a faerie, and you are going to like it." He did.

Except my corset and wings were pretty restrictive... and Joel couldn't drive and wear his armor, because he couldn't turn his head. We stopped at a 7-11 down the street from the house where the party was and buckeled and tied each other into our costumes in between fits of laughter (mine). He won second place for best costume, so that was fun. This very nice, but a rather dim 20-year-old dressed as a Sexy Nurse said, "Aw! He's your knight in shining armor! Next year you have to be his fairy princess!" I looked her right in the eye, then leaned over and threw up in the big bowl of hummus.

No, not really. Instead, I said something like, "No offense, but that is never, ever going to happen. I tried to be a tragic female Arthurian character this year. It, uh, wasn't meant to be."

I love Halloween. :)

Oh, no...

Right now Sinead O'Connor is performing with some kind of Jamaican rock group thingy on the Tonight Show... and no. Just.. oh, this is awful. In my wholly unimportant important opinion, this is a bad career move. Not as bad as tearing up a photo of the Pope on live TV, but still... What is she-? Oh, no.

You know, actually, many years ago Gwen put a really wonderful Sinead O'Connor song on a mix for me about the troubles in Ireland, and it has this beautiful line: "We used to worship God as a mother..." It always struck a chord with me, but this new Rasta Irish-y thing? Why?

But now Conan is on. So there's that.

How many shopping days does Dick Cheney has left with the Bush administration, do you think? I'm hoping we'll see indictments handed down when the grand jury reconvenes later today. Harriet Miers for VP! Not.

Whoopie Pies and Anti-Depressants

I know an amazing person who has pretty severe diabetes. Like, Julia Roberts in Steel Magnolias, Kidney Transplant Required diabetes. She's pretty cavalier about it. The last time I saw her, she was like, "You know what? I need a martini!" AND I KID YOU NOT, she pulled a syringe right out of her purse, stuck it through her oh-so-smart, black Donna Karan pantsuit and injected insulin right into her thigh. And then got our server's attention to order her drink "with a twist." This person is a mentor of mine anyway, but in that moment, my jaw dropped. I laughed, clinked her glass with my Diet Coke and thought: "Role Model."

So I'm not shy about the fact that I take anti-depressants. I have many, many gifts, but subtlety is not among them. I'm okay with that. In fact, I've been reading quite a few blogs lately where people are talking about their daily doses of Effexor. I'm thinking about starting a new blogroll, actually. Forget "mommy bloggers;" that's soooo 2004. This is the year of the "Effexor Bloggers!" Heh.

So you know, I like to say that I have my emotional baggage, but I've spent a lot of time making sure it's cute and it all matches. I had a lot of support from educated and supportive family members who knew my brain chemistry might go boink! at some point.

It's true that making peace with my body will be a lifelong journey, but my relationship with food is, at the moment, pretty decent. Of course, it's also true that I don't like to talk about my weight. (Period. No criticisms OR compliments, please! Nope! Thanks anyway! I know you mean well, but if we dwell on this subject too long I might be up all night trying on all my clothes to make sure they still fit! It's FUN! Woo hoo! Keep movin' folks! Let me show you how I can break boards with my feet instead! Yeah, my body does that. Cool, huh?)

But I think I knew my Food Issues were officially under control about three and a half years ago, when Alissa (psychology internship applicant extraordinaire- keep it up! You're doing great!) pointed out that my recipe book for crepes was right next to Geneen Roth's "Why Weight? A Guide to Ending Compulsive Dieting" on my bookshelf. Along those lines, I just got a care package from home containing (wait for it; wait for it) whoopie pies and anti-depressents.

Awesome. I think my therapists Cindy, Linea, Francis, Dr. Bruette, that Other Mean Lady I Only Saw Twice, Because I Might Be Crazy But You're a Bitch and Susan would be proud.

"It's a meal! It's an obsessive disorder! It's both!"

Oh my God... It's my first day in the new office, and here I am hunching over my laptop and shaking with silent laughter. The good thing is, I've worked with most of these reporters before they escaped over the bridge from the Jeeklies, too. If Chris gets transferred, we can reunite the old team and play "Shut up-shut up-shut up Basketball!" again. But that's an entry for another day.

You have to go read these, especially if you've ever counted points. And then thank Andrea for emailing me the link.

BWA HA HA HA!

Shh... nobody move..

fredasleep
Originally uploaded by GypsyPeach.

..because Fred is snuggling with me right now. My cat does not snuggle with humans. With the resident dog? Yes. With me? The one who feeds him and buys him toys and occasionally lets him scream into my cell phone and permits him to visit the Lovely and Alluring Bike while I'm doing laundry and scoops his poop twice a day? Not so much.

And yet tonight, he is curled up against me, tucked under one arm for the last hour, purring like a motorboat. This almost never happens. I need to take my contacts out, gulp down the life-maintaining fistful of pills, and walk the equally sleepy and adorable dog. But not just yet...

New Beginnings

First, since you're all so supportive and wonderful and emailing me to find out- YES! I got the promotion.

On a more philosophical note... Well, I've always felt that the Jewish New Year fell at a good time of year for me. My parents have always taught and/or worked in schools, so September always felt like a better time to start fresh that sloppy, cold January at our house. I started holding my own personal Rosh Hashanah in college.

So basically, I eat an apple with honey, put away my summer clothes, pull out the sweaters, give old things to charity, replace and file all the folders in the filing cabinet, and set new goals. I also get a full wellness checkup, visit the dentist and go to the eye doctor. Bella and Fred get their booster shots.

The spiritual path I've been following since I came into my own as an adult does celebrate the harvest and mark a new year on October 31st, but I'm not really bad-ass enough to really claim that as my own. I also don't feel comfortable going to a synagogue on Yom Kippur (and I kid you not, around here they sell tickets to gain admission and they cost $$$). I do try to make amends and have the heart-to-heart conversations I know need to happen. I try to put on my big girl panties and deal, set things right, untangle misunderstandings, restart and reboot, speak the truth and offer olive branches.

So... I talked to Stephen tonight for two hours. And it was great. I didn't call him a fucker the entire time! Most of our conversations, and there haven't been many, have ended with me in tears these past ten months. But I wanted to tell him something, because I didn't want him to read it on the Internet first, and now we've spoken, though most of you know anyway, so here it is... I am seeing a wonderful guy. (He's previously been described here as my Casual New Friend.) His name is Joel. We've been dating for two months now. He's a teacher, working on his masters degree, loves landscape photography, has nice teeth, loathes Bush, walks my dog in the rain, calls when he says he will, takes me to the airport AND picks me up, the whole she-bang.

Perhaps the most telling thing I can tell you about his personality is that my dog- an excellent judge of character- adores him. I mean, like, "Damn we're lucky Bella doesn't have opposable thumbs because she loves him so much she might try to assassinate a world leader to get his attention like that crazy guy who stalked Jodi Foster" adores him. Bella loves my new boyfriend like Fred loves the neighbor's bicycle. :)

“To everything there is a season. A time for every purpose under Heaven. A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to break down and a time to build up. A time to weep and a time to laugh. A time to mourn and a time to dance. A time to cast away stones and a time to gather stones. A time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing. A time to gain, a time to lose. A time to keep, a time to throw away. A time to tare, a time to sow. A time to keep silent and a time to speak. A time to love and a time to hate. A time of war, and a time of peace.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 )

Whoopie Pile (Get it? Get it?)

PARTY60
Originally uploaded by GypsyPeach.

What? What's that you say? You'd like to see another flickr slide show of a matrimonial-related event, especially one featuring funny photos of Kelly pointing at things? Well, you've come to the right place!

Follow this link for the slide show from Kelly's birthday/bachelorette/girlfriend par-tay, or just click on the photo of that gooey, yummy, glowing pile of heavenly, cakey goodness. Yummmm....

Hating the Waiting

In twelve hours, I will know if I am crossing the bridge.

"You've always been a good girl, smart girl, pretty girl, lucky girl
Happy as the day is long
This town has so much at stake in you
Do you have any idea what they put you through?

They give you all these big dreams, big plans, beneficial programs
A studio with mirrors for walls
Your doctors tell you work it through, smooth it out, feel your pain, let it out
They never let you learn how to crawl
They never let you make the rules
Why don't you make the rules?

Angela, this town is wrong
Angela, this town is wrong
Angela, spread your wings and be gone."
-The Nields

Darn you, Oprah

You know, I usually tend to shy away from Oprah-isms. While I actually have tremendous amount of respect for the woman, I sometimes find that the glossy veneer that is required to mass market her ideas detracts from their authenticity somehow. Also, I sometimes find her "solutions" for bringing serenity and solitude into one's life are really only options for very wealthy people, like "Oh, looky! This woman retreated to her family's beach house on Cape Cod for three months! She walks through the house every day at 4 p.m. ringing a bell to signal that all stress shall be banished for the next meditative hour! Woo! I mean, ooohmmm!"

But every now and then she offers up a pearl of wisdom that really speaks to me. Just now she was interviewing Uma Thurm@n (UUUUMa... OOOprah: Bonus point if you catch that reference) about the failure of her marriage to Ethan Hawke and put this out there: "Forgiveness is giving up the hope that the past could have been different."

Huh. I haven't heard anything that profound since this was shared with me in August: "Time goes ding-a-ling-a-ling. Time does not remember. Time is a clock." (said by the adorable Andrew, now nearly 5)

Wounds are healing. Things are changing. It seems the universe isn't keeping track of the number of times I get to fall in love.

There really is nothing better...

allsix1
Originally uploaded by GypsyPeach.

...than having all your favorite people in one place. The rest of the photos from Kelly's bachelorette/birthday/reunion party will be up soon (including photos of a life-size cardboard cutout of Harrison Ford/Han Solo wearing red lingerie and a bow hat), but in the meantime, there's really nothing better!