Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Cake

My birthday is this coming Monday (the 14th). No matter how old I get, I still get excited on my birthday.

Why?

Because I get to have cake.

Now I know I'm an adult, and can have cake any damn time I want to. But the reality is, cake makes my hips rounder and my jeans smaller. So, for most of the year, I abstain.

But I won't on Monday. Or rather, Sunday, the day that hunky and I are going out to celebrate.

I plan on having lots and lots of cake. After all, what's a gym membership for, if not to work off birthday cake?

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Sour Mood

I don't know what's wrong with me lately, but I have been in a sour mood. So sour, I'm curdling on the inside.

Mood enhancers would probably help, but since I can't seem to finagle any, alcohol will have to do. Hence, my $4.50 splurge last night on a bottle of Forestville Merlot.

It was kind of nasty.

Now, I'm sure I've had this wine before, and found it palatable. Or maybe I dreamed it. No matter... I opened the bottle, had a glass and even though it was semi-nasty, it did the trick. Before I knew it, my sourness was gone and I was sleeping like a baby.

Unfortunately, it's powers don't last overnight. Thanks to feuding felines, I was awoken from a deep, alcohol-induced slumber four times between the hours of 2 AM-4AM. Needless to say, I woke up in a very sour mood, indeed.

I think I'm going to need more wine tonight.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Look Like A Woman, Love Like A Man

Believe me when I say I'm all woman. I've even got the childbearing hips to prove it (although my birthing parts have been decommissioned). There's not a boyish bone in my body (well, you know, sometimes there is a certain boy's bone in my body, but we won't go there... this is a PG-rated journal). I've never felt the need to play softball, drink beer with the guys, shave my face or kiss a girl.

No, I'm all woman. Except when it comes to love. Or at least, that's what I've been told.

See, I think I'm as romantic as the next woman. But in all honesty, I'm not. Sure, I like wine and roses. Stays at bed & breakfasts. Romantic, candlelit dinners. But when it comes to nurturing a relationship, I fall flat on my girlish ass.

Problem: hunky has noticed this. All too often.

He accuses me of being the man in the relationship. He says I have a man's outlook on love. When I asked him to explain what the hell that meant, he said that I'm not nurturing. That I don't like all the cuddling and wooing and physical displays of affection. He also said that I take the relationship for granted... something more often associated with men than women.

He might be right.

Oh, not about the taking the relationship for granted thing. But yeah, I'm not much into nurturing. Never have been, hence the decommissioning of the birthing parts. And physical displays of affection, like sitting in his lap, holding his hand, sticking my hands in his back pocket while we walk in the mall? So not me.

Well. I do hold his hand. Willingly, in fact. But, as he has pointed out time and time again, I rarely reach for him first. And... he swears that's a guy thing.

Then I guess it's a good thing he's the girl in the relationship, huh, otherwise we'd be a gay couple parading around in our rainbow shirts, looking for an apartment in San Francisco.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.


Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Crush

Way back when, I had a major crush on Tony DeFranco of the Defranco Family. How could I not be in love with the singer of "Heartbeat, It's A Lovebeat"? I spent hours singing to his poster and dancing in front of his album. Not that he ever noticed.

The thing is, way back when I was the kind of girl who got crushes, but was never crushed on. So imagine my surprise when 30-some odd years later, an old high school alum started crushing on me.

From a distance.

Without even knowing what I look like. (And just for the record, I'm hot. Okay, maybe not hot, but definitely lukewarm.)

There were a few problems with this: 1) I'm taken. 2) I let him know I'm taken. 3) Just in case I didn't make this clear, I'm taken.

There is also a problem with me. See, I give good email. So, of course the poor guy didn't stand a chance. He was bound to fall for me in a big way. Unfortunately for him, I'm taken.

I'll admit it, though. In the beginning, I found it flattering. And after he saw a picture of me (taken when I was rested and relaxed at a retreat), he really seemed to fall for me. And, again I was flattered, because now I was a little more than just words... I was also a face. And apparently, a face not too shabby to look at.

But see... being as I'm a one-man woman and all, the crush soon became annoying. To me, not to him. He made it clear I was boning-material. I made it clear I wasn't interested. And after a few months of this, it culminated as it only could have: he got possessive of me, and I blew up at him.

See, even though I knew why he got a crush on me (no girlfriend on his arm, no love interest in his future), I found myself impatient with his apparent inability to get a clue. So imagine my delight when he wrote me yesterday to tell me that he met a girl this weekend. A girl he's crazy about. A girl he wants to see more of.

In other words, someone he has a crush on.

Thank God!

My hunkarama said "Aren't you a little sad? I mean, wasn't it nice to know someone had a crush on you?"

No. I'm not sad. Sure, it's nice to be found crushworthy, but being as I'm not the typical woman, I just found it annoying, irritating, and draining.

Fending off advances isn't my idea of a good time. Listening to Tony DeFranco is.

Monday, October 03, 2005

Wicked Witch Of The West


During my brief time (yeah, who am I kidding? My time here hasn't been so brief, but a girl can pretend, can't she?) on planet Earth, I've engaged in one long spiritual quest. My latest focus has been on Wicca. However, after almost a year of classes I've come to the conclusion that Wicca is much too complicated for it to be a comfortable path for me to follow.

Religion/spirituality should not be difficult. Wicca is. At least, I find it difficult, and since it's my life, that's all that really matters. From knowing which gods and goddesses to petition, to writing spells, to insuring said spell is done under the correct moon phase, to ritual gear, Wicca is complicated. And, not to be repetitive although it will be, religion just shouldn't be so hard.

And I think that's why I almost always come right back to Christianity.

That's right. I said it. Christianity.

And that's another topic altogether, because of course there are so many types of Christians out there that Christianity has received a bad rap over the years, as the "bad" Christians have risen to the top.

So, Christianity aside, I have learned some things while studying Wicca that I can easily incorporate into my spiritual practices. Candle magick (the "k" is intentional). Divination. Herbology. In other words, I've decided to become a Christian Witch.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Some people have been calling me a "witch" for years. But they haven't meant the magical kind of witch. And the magical kind is the one I am aspiring to be.

Now staunch Christians tell me "You can't be a witch. It's evil." And to them I say "phooey." They're just talking out of their puckered anuses. In fact, many aspects of witchery go hand-in-hand with Christianity. But, since they're talkin' out of their butts, anyway, what do they know?

As for Wicca, my plan is to continue classes. After all, they're fun. And I'm the kind of girl who needs a lot more fun in her life.