The Weirdness Continues...

After posting below, what song comes on my Yahoo but Babs Streisand singing "People Who Need People". I would not be surprised if Rod Serling stepped out of our cloat closet here and welcomed me to The Twilight Zone.

Epiphany of the Day

*A ray of light blazes through the ceiling above my desk-a chorus of cherubs bursts forth in harmony* I'm at work feeling as though a knife has been stabbed through my heart. Why? Because I have just realized that I have a great need to be around people, to interact with them and to have them in my life. Yes but why the pain? For years, I have done the Simon & Garfunkle thing..I am a rock.. etc. I've been proud of the life obstacles I've overcome without assistance from anybody. I find it terribly difficult to actually depend on others. Rarely do I ask for assistance and in general I tend to listen to their problems and never share my own. It's about fear. The fear of being hopelessly in need of assistance, asking another human being for help and getting a "no" response. My reaction has always been, OK I can do this myself, it's not a problem. When I moved into my house in Baltimore, I moved myself-had no help. It took me three solid days of lifting but I got it done. The people that I'd asked for help bailed on me the morning of the move and I had no choice, I pushed and got it done. But today I wish I had someone to talk to right now. Loneliness in itself is not a crime nor am I the only person on the planet to experience it-the painful part is realizing that I need. After trying so hard to be solitary and not "needy" I realize that I've failed in the process. It's not about sex, it's about conversation, interaction and just being with other beings on a social level. So what does a bar-shy, late 30's-short-round-woman do in a situation like this? I haven't got the foggiest. When I do figure it out I'll let you know.

Mattress and the Bea

A few weeks ago I decided to retire my old mattress and box spring set. They were 11 years old and my back was killing me. I drove to a place called Mister Mattress. Why did I choose Mister Mattress? Because in the spring time they get some poor schlub to stand outside the store wearing a foam mattress, paying the person inside to wave at passing cars-it's out of pity that I went there. Perhaps my purchase would ensure that no one would have to be humilitated like that ever again? I splurged and got a BeautyRest Pillowtop mattress set that was delivered yesterday.

Giddy with glee, I sat on my little balcony and watched with great anticipation as the Mister Mattress truck (K-it reminded me of "Rent Me" and I giggled) bleeped and backed into a parking space. I sighed, no more sleepless nights waking up in the morning with an aching back. God I sound like a freakin' commercial. Anyway...within minutes the old set was gone and the new one installed. It's amazing how much two guys can lift up three flights of stairs. After the moving dudes left, I dashed to the bedroom with fresh sheets in hand and was astonished-Gee it didn't look quite THAT big in the store... the top of that very comfy mattress was at waist level for me! I need a step stool to get into the thing. I broke out in fits of giggles as thoughts of falling out of bed rambled through my brain...a 3 a.m. trip to the Emergency Room, a bright young intern asks me how I got a concussion-well, gee doctor I just rolled outta my friggin' bed that's all... I laughed even harder when I realized that for the first time in my life I would be tall-even if it was while I was sleeping.(I'm vertically challenged; at 5'1" just about the entire world is taller than I am). I went to bed last night wondering if I put a pea between the mattresses would I feel it?!!

Spa Day

Yesterday after work I decided to embrace my femininity and had a spa day. I cruised to the only stylist in Maryland that I trust (she's a GODDESS) and got a pedicure and a haircut. It turned into a four hour process and I was totally exhausted when I got back home. There's nothing that can beat having your feet massaged while you and your stylist bitch and yap about everything under the sun. It was nice and rarely do I pamper myself to this degree. I left the salon reeking of Paul Mitchell product, poofy hair and smooth (dare I say) sexy feet.

I'm very happy with the new, more feminine look. For years I have neglected myself, denying the fact that I don't really really need to go to a salon-that's for Sugar Princess Chicks. Well I wanna be a Sugar Princess. I'm turning over a new leaf, no more bad haircuts, nail nibbling, disasterous fashion choices, and I am worth every yummy smell that comes out of Bath and Body Works. I will not dread the chick emporium filled with magazines, hair product, face product, foot product and boat loads of gossip galore. I generally remain silent while My Girl works on me and I listen to the other stylists gossip and carry on with their customers. It really is a fascinating world in there. Bits of conversation are interrupted with the metalic click of the scissors, hum of electric clippers and an occasional blast from a hair dryer. The air is rife with foamy floral scents punctuated with sharp perming solutions and the sugary scent of hair spray. It's Estrogen Heaven and I acutally like it.

I never thought I would see this but, there are tumble weeds blowing down the hall in my office...naaaaaahhh just kidding!!! It's a very slow afternoon and I'm thinking about Bacon and Chowda. Why do I rename all the men in my life after food? Is there some kind of vitamin deficiency that forces me to do this? Do I just have snacks on the brain??? No, I think it's because I crave them as one occasionally tastes for chocolate or potato chips or hell both at the same time are pretty darned nice! Chips and chocolate not Chowda and Bacon (although...NOPE not going there folks)

On a completley different note. I'm losing weight rapidly which is good, but the pants I bought four weeks ago are so big that my belt no longer holds them up and it looks like I've got a load in my backside. The "Load-in-the-Drawers" look goes out of style after you're pottie trained and doesn't really work that well for a thirty something adult. Short semi-round woman in baggie pants says "Scruffy-poorly dressed-chick" not "Gee she's stylin' today" and I loathe to shop for clothes. I would rather paint (by myself mind you) the exterior of a four story Victorian farm house rather than enter the Mall. There is nothing as disconcerting as looking at myself in clothing store mirrors. I just can't take it which is why I think I'll start shopping on line.

Serenity Now

It is a glorious day here in Granolaville, my new neighborhood. It's a community that was planned by those tree-hugging-spotted owl kissing-free loving kids in the 60's. I consider myself to be a tree-hugging-spotted owl kissing-liberal-pinko but I haven't quite mastered the Yuppie state of mind. There's something disturbing about going to the grocery store and having every yuppified pedestrian casually stroll in front of the Bea-mobile as if I wouldn't dare hit them because they look so darn trendy in those khaki bermuda shorts and oh-so-divine sandals. But I digress...

I cannot remember when I have been so content. A few days ago the exhaust fan in my bathroom bit the dust so I told the management company and SHAZAM! it was fixed the next day. Gotta love the apartment maintenence dudes. I have spent more time on my balcony, surveying my new kindgom that I ever did when I lived in the house. My plethora of festive, bright geraniums and Jade plant keep me company as I sit and bird watch. My evening commute is next to nothing and I get home relaxed and not stressed from rush hour. True, I do pay far more in rent than I did when I owned the house and it's a three flight walk up-but in all honesty I wouldn't trade the peace of mind that I have now for a cheaper place to live.

I was outside earlier, consuming a new bevvie called a Mojito. It's sort of like a Cuban Margarita, slushed. I purchased a bucket-o-cocktail-mix (add alcohol and stuff in the freezer for 8 hours) at the local Bed, Bath and Beyond Store along with some other goodies (terry cloth flip flops that feel like you're walking on a cloud, a righteous Buddah statue for those serene moments, paper towel dispenser, new kitchen knives and a cold pack mask for those puffy eye days so I wouldn't go to work looking like Clint Eastwood). I did not feel this happy when I purchased the house 6 years ago, in fact, I was terrified-why? I really can't recall but I don't feel afraid now. It's almost errie how at home I feel. (Big shout out to K-yes you were correct) At night I can see the stars from my balcony and I drift off to sleep not hearing the noise of the beltway or traffic from the street. No neighbors screaming at their kids, in fact I wouldn't be shocked to see Laura Ingalls (of Little House on the Prairie fame), in her fresh pressed calico dress and bonnet, skipping happily down the street, with her braids flyin', swinging her lunch pail and whistling Dixie. That's life in Granolaville, and that's just fine by me.

Post Moving Come Down

Thanks to all who responded to the moving post (either by e mail or on the site). I've almost finished unpacking, got some fine tuning to do in the kitchen but aside from that I'm done!

Had a lovely holiday weekend with my Uncle and his family. Paddled around in the pool with my cousins, nieces and nephews playing Marco Polo, creating giant whirlpools by getting the family(roughly 11 people) to jog in the water counterclockwise around the pool and of course Dunking Monster (I, of course was da Monsta). Worked on my savage tan and now no longer reflect light that is cast upon my once alabaster skin. It's nice not to glow in the dark anymore, not that I'm radioactive, it's just that I was so white I make pure snow look filthy. Thank the Tanning Gods for 30 sunblock. Ate picnic food, toasted marshmallows and had a very nice time. I was totally exhausted when I got home last night-all that fresh air, exercise and sunshine.

Moving On...

I'm wondering if I will ever find someone that makes me feel special again. I bear no malice toward Bacon. It was time for our relationship to end and I wish him the best that life has to offer. I must admit that my wicked eye has fallen on a co-worker, he's from the northeast and to protect his identity he shall be known henceforth as "Chowder" or "Chowda" because he's creamy, dreamy, looks like he'd keep someone warm on a cold winter night and a mighty morsel for the eyes. I have vowed never to date a co-worker again due to Stalker-Ex-Boyfriend-From-Hell-Experience in the early 90's that almost resulted in restraining order. But there's something about Chowda that is fun. He's got a great sense of humor, although I've heard through the office grapevine (consists of only three women so it's pretty reliable) that he does have a temper. Much to my chagrin he has given me a new nickname and now all the guys in the office address me by it (relax-it's clean but I can't tell you because it would blow my identity for Bea is not really my name). Plans are on the boards to retaliate with a gag gift box for Mister Chowda...I'll keep you informed on the progress.

Can I get a Hooo Hah??!!!

I say this proudly, I am no longer a homeowner. A shout out to K for being the most amazing person on the planet for helping me move. I never would have been able to do it on my own without having a cardiac arrest. The man is righteous what can I say? You can always tell the strength of a friendship when those people offer to help you move. The heat and humidity combined with the three flight walk up are a test of endurance and good humor. The fact that the man kept me sane and did not erupt in overly harsh language confound me to this very day.

I closed on my house on June 30th at 1pm but prior to that important hour I was madly rushing to remove the last remnants of my stuff. A brief schedule of the Final Day's activities:

4:30 am-wake up-shower-inhale a pop tart and vitamins
5:15 am-drive from new apartment to house
5:30 am-begin chain smoking and tamp down the overwhelming desire for caffine laced bevvie
5:45 am-arrive at house and madly dash from the house to the car with armloads of crap, sweating like a race horse
7:45 am-car is jammed to capacity-leave to go pick up rental van smelling to high heaven and spazzing out because there's still so much to be done
8:15 am-continue sweating profusely while playing a giant game of Tetrus with the boxes in the cargo van-deodorant has stopped working
9:15 am-kindly neighbor sees that I am drowning in my own fluids and offers me a glass of lemonade which I chug in one mighty gulp
9:45 am-house is finally EMPTY-rental van rides like a Cadillac-having depleted my energy I wanly vaccum the house and lock the front door for the last time
10:00 am-I am feeling a bit woozy and stop at Burger King for some breakfast, notice that people are staring at me and the woman behind the counter comments on my stench-I apologize and explain that I'm moving and do plan on becoming clean again-find table in corner and inhale food so that the restaurant will not have to be fumigated
10:30 am-drive 30 min to new apartment and hose myself off before going to closing
12:15- Adrenaline rush is OVER and I'm beginning to crash and burn while driving to the real estate office
12:45-I arrive early and chat with kindly receptionist to keep myself awake-I'm getting punchy
1:00 pm-closing begins-meet the new owner and his witch of a real estate agent, give huge hugs to Debbie my real estate agent and shake hands with mortgage chick
1:30 pm-while mortgage chick is discussing important stuff with Gary, the new owner, I am whispering comments to Debbie in an effort to stay awake
2:00 pm-closing is done, hugs all 'round the room, pass keys to Gary and wish him the best of luck
3:00 pm-stop for some Gatorade-my eyes feel like two piss holes in the snow and I cannot stop yawning
4:00 pm-get home, haul my big ass up three flights, disrobe as I'm walking in the door and fall asleep in my living room chair
6:00 pm-wake up to unload rented cargo van
9:00 pm-gasping for breath I'm finished and drive to old neighborhood to return van and pick up my car
10:30 pm-back at new apt and my day is finally done!!!

THANK GOD IT'S OVER!!!!!!