All the Things I Should Have Said Today, But Didn’t

So who’s going to sign up for the “drag Heather back to California kicking and screaming” team? Because the way things are going, I don’t feel like it’s going to be easy to come home from our vacation, which begins in T-minus two days. The only saving grace is that my husband and all my things are here. Otherwise I would be so disillusioned with California culture at this point that you’d have to put me in a  straight jacket and mouthguard to force me back.

Today I went to a kid’s party. Seems normal, although I went on my own for once since we have been getting over a cold and the last thing I want is for everyone to get worse just before we leave for my sweet, home:  Chicago. It was the third birthday party of the daughter of one of my long-time California friends. She and I have known each other since I worked on her mother’s campaign for United States Congress – I was at her wedding, at the hospital three years ago when her daughter was born, and managed to keep in contact with her even though we haven’t seen much of each other in the past few years. Since we moved out of Los Angeles and back into the ‘burbs recently, though, it seemed only natural I would go to her daughter’s party.

Let me start this by saying, though, that I don’t like some of their friends. She and her husband are awesome, their families are equally as wonderful of people; but some of their friends leave me scratching my head. I’m sure by the end of these “things I said” and their companion “things I should have said,” you will be scratching yours too. Or drinking heavily, which is what I did when I got home.

Things I said:

When I walked up, they had one of those Jolly Jumper things set up in the front and kids were jumping and screaming in it with a few adults standing outside of it. I recognized all of them immediately – some of whom were these friends. One of the women I will never forget because (1) she squirted breast milk on me accidentally one time during a UFC party while she breastfed her infant; and, (2) they recently moved down the block from my father and I see them while driving all the time. I kindly said “hello” and she didn’t recognize me. Then she sort of did, then she didn’t, then it got awkward and she said “you must be who I am thinking of, but your hair is different.” I smiled and said “yes.”

Things I should have said: “Yeah, I do look a lot different now. You don’t though. You’re still a borderline obese cow in sweatpants squirting her breast milk at everyone – could never forget that! Don’t worry, I’d forget me too.”

Things I said:

I tried to walk into the actual house to see my friend, drop off the gift, and converse with the sane family members I knew would be there. As I made my way in, though, someone else saw me and this time I was recognized. The woman was sitting down breastfeeding at the time and flagged me over; when I walked over she talked a little and then said “don’t you look cute today! A little overdressed for a kid’s party, but to each his own!” I was wearing a short black spring dress, a white and black striped shirt underneath, a sweater, a pair of leggings, and my black Uggs. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t overdressed – I wear this outfit at least once every few weeks. Nonetheless, I defended myself with an “oh, you know … I never have an excuse to get out of yoga pants most of the time, so I thought I’d at least look nice!”

Things I should have said: “Oh, you think I’m overdressed? That’s funny because even though it’s a kid’s party, I’m fairly certain cheap Kmart sweat pants and an oversized t-shirt is inappropriate. You should probably go change, now.”

Things I said (or rather did):

I walked in the door, but was again accosted, this time by a man. He and I had a great conversation a few years ago at a birthday party. He was engaged to this girl my age that dressed something like my mother. She was there today, wearing a knitted vest with a snowman on it. Anyway, so he and I had a great conversation at a birthday party a while ago. I was dressed down, looking sort of crappy, and just talking to him about philosophy because he asked what I did and I was in school at the time. Apparently afterwards, the squirting cow from earlier started a huge rumor about how “Heather the whore” was always flirting with all of their men. Some big rumor drama started and the guy’s fiancé was just horrified by the whole ordeal. I learned this shortly afterwards because we were at another party and the guy and his sweater vest-wearing-woman didn’t even come, which I guess was because she was afraid he’d flirt with me “back.”

So they were there today and the guy said “hello” and started talking to me. In the three years since I’ve last seen him, he’s aged about thirty. His fiancé is now his wife and while I spoke with him, she walked by staring. She just paced back and forth, glaring; and a minute later when I said “hello” to her as well, she turned around and walked off. Politely, I concluded the conversation and said it was nice to see him, and went about my way.

Things I should have said (or should have done): After the second or third time that bitch paced back and forth, glaring at me, I should have shouted “I’ve been wanting to do this for years!!” and then planted one on him, not forgetting to grab his balls briefly at the end.

Things I said:

Finally, I made it in. I was greeted briefly by my friend and her husband. I spoke with her mother, his father, and got some food. I didn’t want to eat much so had a chicken leg and some crackers. While getting myself a Diet Coke from their drink stash, someone else came up to me. This woman really roasts my ass. At my friend’s wedding, her husband referred to my father as “the help” and yelled at him – that’s the kind of person we’re talking about, here. Anyway, so she is something like 60, acts 150, and she walked up to me, grabbed my unequivocally not-baby-filled-gut and started screaming “ooooooooooohhhhhhhhh, you’re preeeeeegggggnanttttttttt!!!!!!!” Now I can admit that I could shed a few pounds here and there, but I most certainly did not look pregnant. I laughed, said “no… I’m not pregnant … so how are you doing?” Then excused myself quietly as people still stared, about five minutes later.

Things I should have said: “Yeah, you know I am. Hope they don’t mind but I just peed on the couch inside – the baby was pressing on my bladder. So I guess the rest of these breast milk squirting cows are all carrying, like, quintuplets or something, huh? And you’ve got a baby under that senior discounted Walmart moo moo too I see! You’re preeeeeeeeggggnantttttttttt!!!!!”

Shortly after, I left the party. Said my goodbyes, hugs and such. Then I went to my car with my head held high, only to feel completely demoralized by the time I got home. Wine and cheese made everything better, as well as the reminder that in just a couple days now I will be on my way home for the first time in over a decade. California will be lucky if I return.

Advertisements

DIY Swimming Pool

Ay yay yay.

The other day I saw this absolutely absurd set of pictures on Failblog. It intrigued me so that I looked into it a little and found that A LOT of people do this – this, of course, being making themselves a swimming pool for a little r & r out of a tarp and a lot of rope.

No one really seemed to give any instructions for this, though. While it looks easy, I think we need to be very clear on how to embark on a DIY Swimming Pool.

Step One: Get a haircut

This is probably the first and most important step. Get a haircut. But not just any haircut – one that says get me some chitlins. I’m talking a mullet – cut your hair just so that it’s business on top and party in the back. You will not be able to make your tarp pool without this critical step having been done.

Step Two: Light the fire

While you are preparing your tarp pool, you’ll most certainly get hungry and want to cook up the nearest roadkill you can find. Light the fire in one of the metal trash cans sitting around in your front yard – old nuclear waste bins you dug up out off your old property in Nevada will suffice as well. Once things are nice and toasty, get cooking!

Step Three: Engage in sexual congress with your sister, mother, aunt, cousin, or father

It need not matter who, what, where, or whether you are of the same gender. Incest is the best – put your family to the test, right? Once this step is done, we are ready to get that pool going!

Step Four: Head to your local Home Depot and steal a tarp and rope

The rope you use to hold up your pants will not be enough to put together your tarp pool. The good news is that it’s relatively easy to steal things from Home Depot – all you need to do is fit the items neatly into your overalls and rebutton your flannel shirt. Everyone will think you’ve just eaten one too many opossums.

Step Five: Tie your tarp up to the sides of a flimsy or seemingly illogical place

As you see in the photographs above, the best places for putting together your tarp pool are the back of your truck or up along your fence. Keep in mind: the dirtier the better. It’s best to just start off filthy since it’s going to get dirty up in there anyway.

Step Six: Add water and enjoy!!

Might I suggest you only skinny dip? This seems to be the maximum of enjoyment possibilities in your tarp pool. Nothing says ‘fun’ like having your hillbilly balls hanging out all over your algae-infested tarp pool in the back of your truck, while the wind blowing fans your mullet out all around you as your four hundred pound wife drives the two of you to the closest Sizzler for the Sunday Special.

You’re kidding me right? Seriously, humanity … why?

 

My Crush on Conan O’Brien, and others

Today I learned something absolutely fantastic, and I now feel the confidence to come out with another of my own deep, dark secrets:  I am not the only person to have an insane crush on Conan O’Brien.

My marriage be damned, I have a lot of relatively atypical celebrity crushes.  Conan O’Brien is one of them.  While most of the people I know are gushing over those raging douches on Jersey Shore, and the likes of Brad Pitt, I stick to the underdogs who are rarely the source of celebrity swooning.  It isn’t that the “underdogs” aren’t attractive, it’s just that the people I generally swoon after are both attractive as well as intelligent, the latter not always appreciated by the general public.

Or possibly I’m completely insane.  I think we’ve established that is a very legitimate possibility.  Last week I admitted to you, faithful blog followers, that I have had a secret love of Wolf Blitzer (and most of the other major cable network news anchors) for some time.  Now, when my friend Erica posted on her Facebook this evening that she too has an unearthly crush on the red-haired comedienne, I am ready to come forward with not only my love of Coco, but all my celebrity crushes.

#1 Wolf Blitzer, Chris Matthews, et all

Maybe it’s because they raise their voices all the time on the television, or possibly because they know so much about the world and political theory.  Whatever the case may be, I have the hots for the majority of male news anchors on the major cable networks, with (of course) the exception of Fox.

#2 Conan O’Brien

I haven’t even watched his show for that long; possibly since he began on TBS about a year ago.  Nonetheless, most nights of the week I tune in to hear his musings on the world, his comedic banter with his guests and side-kick Andy, and delight in the sarcastic wit that bleeds through the show every night.

#3 Most of the young priests on EWTN

Am I going to hell for this one?  I spend a lot of time hanging out with my father and, as a result of his staunch Catholicism, we often find ourselves watching talk shows on the Catholic station, EWTN.  They are boring beyond belief, though, leaving me only one option to stay entertained:  find someone hot to look at.  Of course thinking that those young priests are hot beyond all reason is probably my straight ticket to hell.  Whatever, I think we all know I am going that way anyway.

#4 Gerard Butler

Do other people find this guy attractive?  I know he is something of a rising star these days, but every time I mention to someone that I have a celebrity crush on Butler, they look at me like I’m a complete moron.  In any event, he makes me swoon.

#5 Chris Hardwick

A few years ago, my friend Jeremy and I saw Hardwick’s comedy routine live in Hollywood.  We sat in the front row and at one point Hardwick leaned over and asked me if something was stuck in the microphone.  It was everything I could do not to say directly into that microphone “would you like me to have your babies?”  Hardwick – for me – is a matter of nostalgia, as well as his absolutely hilarious comedic style.

And last, but certainly not least #6 John Cusack

Again, does anyone crush on John Cusack?  I do.  I always have.  I think it has to do with the fact that his characters are always portrayed in the exact way I feel.  I don’t think I enjoyed him that much in Being John Malcovich, and I was absolutely disappointed that he participated in that Hot Tub Time Machine atrocity; nonetheless, I have always had a major crush on the man behind Gross Pointe Blank and High Fidelity.

The thing to remember about me, faithful blog followers, is that I am more attracted to the qualities of intelligence, wit, misanthrope, and sarcasm far beyond anything else.  I don’t “fantasize” about any of my atypical celebrity crushes, but were I to it would likely be a matter of getting into a conversation about some esoteric topic; or of exchanging witty banter on all things in the world stupid.  Nothing would excite me more than exchanging sarcasm with Conan O’Brien, or getting into a debate about political theory with Wolf Blitzer.  Nothing, faithful blog followers.  Nothing.