Lots of dialogues
The GGW weekend (the expected 30 hours, all told) was about as wild as could be. We actually did discuss the merits of different moisturizers. A few of the ladies got a massage from a tall, lanky, pretty young professional masseuse -- damn her tall lanky prettiness and lack of visible bulges or wrinkles. I did not get kneaded, because I didn't have the money. Also, I don't like people touching me. Also, I can spend $55 on food and it will last longer than one hour.
Since I've just now decided that almost nobody IRL will be allowed to read this, especially RL friends, here are some of my dialogues from that weekend.
- The coffee sucks. People think this is coffee? Oh, right -- we're in Ontario.
- The hot tub is full of hot jetty goodness that I imagine could be a lot of fun if you were alone.
- My sleeping quarters: the Hostess's teen's room. I don't merit a comfy couch or a pull-out bed. I get anime posters and a chart on Kamasutra positions.
- The lady who wanted 11 kids and is now 50 with no kids has plenty of advice for those of us with kids.
- What's with the baby talk, 45-ish other lady? How has your husband managed not to kill you in your sleep thus far?
- They all have more wrinkles than I do.
- Everyone's all excited over how much weight someone has lost. She still has a few 10s to go.
God, that sounds catty. But this is all the shit I never say out loud, see? Instead of letting it fester, I loose it hereupon unto this blog. It's very cathartic.
Shout-out to my sib smkeatr, Brampton's hottest firefighter EVER. He's the first family member to get the URL to this-here-thing. I know smk is the very soul of discretion, so I can trust him. Also, we share an affinity in our feelings about the Stork.
*sigh* Yeah, she's pushing 77, but does that give her license to slag me at every opportunity?
Any more dialogues? Well, yes. It's been a week, after all... there's lots of stuff.
I'm moving into a new house in... ack... four days, up in the mountains. (They're pretty low-range as far as mountains go, but hell, it sounds good, eh?) If I weren't me, I'd be sick with jealousy at my good fortune. Nice house, lakeside, heated indoor pool, jacuzzi, view out of my bedroom window that makes you want to fall on your knees and weep in gratitude. Four days. Then I turn into a country mouse.
I am moving in with a friend who lives with chronic pain -- life dealt her a bad card a few years ago in the form of a spinal injury. But one of my (secret) mandates is to get her to stop binge-eating. She is a dear, sweet, generous soul but she is digging her own grave with her teeth. I do not want to fall into the "saviour" role and chastise her for what she eats; I have been trying to lead by example during my many visits, and will continue to do so. This requires much biting of one's own tongue when one sees $200 worth of imported German chocolate disappear in the space of a few days.
So: one of my ongoing dialogues up there goes something like this:
Me: (watching a TNG rerun) This is a classic episode. ("Put the box of wheat thins down! An entire box of veggie thins per day, even with 37% less sodium, does not count as the recommended daily portion of actual vegetables!")
Her: Munch, munch.
I have to be devious. Devious can be fun when accomplished in small doses. But I can't help but wonder how much tongue I'll have left in 6 months.
Since I've just now decided that almost nobody IRL will be allowed to read this, especially RL friends, here are some of my dialogues from that weekend.
- The coffee sucks. People think this is coffee? Oh, right -- we're in Ontario.
- The hot tub is full of hot jetty goodness that I imagine could be a lot of fun if you were alone.
- My sleeping quarters: the Hostess's teen's room. I don't merit a comfy couch or a pull-out bed. I get anime posters and a chart on Kamasutra positions.
- The lady who wanted 11 kids and is now 50 with no kids has plenty of advice for those of us with kids.
- What's with the baby talk, 45-ish other lady? How has your husband managed not to kill you in your sleep thus far?
- They all have more wrinkles than I do.
- Everyone's all excited over how much weight someone has lost. She still has a few 10s to go.
God, that sounds catty. But this is all the shit I never say out loud, see? Instead of letting it fester, I loose it hereupon unto this blog. It's very cathartic.
Shout-out to my sib smkeatr, Brampton's hottest firefighter EVER. He's the first family member to get the URL to this-here-thing. I know smk is the very soul of discretion, so I can trust him. Also, we share an affinity in our feelings about the Stork.
*sigh* Yeah, she's pushing 77, but does that give her license to slag me at every opportunity?
Any more dialogues? Well, yes. It's been a week, after all... there's lots of stuff.
I'm moving into a new house in... ack... four days, up in the mountains. (They're pretty low-range as far as mountains go, but hell, it sounds good, eh?) If I weren't me, I'd be sick with jealousy at my good fortune. Nice house, lakeside, heated indoor pool, jacuzzi, view out of my bedroom window that makes you want to fall on your knees and weep in gratitude. Four days. Then I turn into a country mouse.
I am moving in with a friend who lives with chronic pain -- life dealt her a bad card a few years ago in the form of a spinal injury. But one of my (secret) mandates is to get her to stop binge-eating. She is a dear, sweet, generous soul but she is digging her own grave with her teeth. I do not want to fall into the "saviour" role and chastise her for what she eats; I have been trying to lead by example during my many visits, and will continue to do so. This requires much biting of one's own tongue when one sees $200 worth of imported German chocolate disappear in the space of a few days.
So: one of my ongoing dialogues up there goes something like this:
Me: (watching a TNG rerun) This is a classic episode. ("Put the box of wheat thins down! An entire box of veggie thins per day, even with 37% less sodium, does not count as the recommended daily portion of actual vegetables!")
Her: Munch, munch.
I have to be devious. Devious can be fun when accomplished in small doses. But I can't help but wonder how much tongue I'll have left in 6 months.
posted by lattégirl at 2:39 p.m.
4 Comments:
How refreshing to say whatever you want! Sometimes I wish my friends and family didn't read my little blog. I doubt I would say anything about any of them, but there are some in-laws I wouldn't mind saying a few choice things about! Thanks for visiting my site and making a few comments. I live for comments! Yes, I love reading, Grey's Anatomy is my favorite TV show and I love food way too much. As you will see if you continue reading. :^)
Amy, I lived through the whole family-reading blog thing for 3 years. Nuff of that.
You and I have way too many TV shows in common.. SCI, all that good forensic stuff. I am dying to see Lost, but since I'm late into the show, I want to wait for box sets to come out...
You are clearly a lady after my own heart! (except for the running and weight training. My lungs can only handle snowshoeing and fighting off wild dogs for now.)
Hi, Lattegirl- sorry I don't know how to put an accent on the 'e'; it's this darned Ontario keyboard. So you don't like our coffee? That's 'cuz it's not made with cigarette grounds. Ha ha ha ha !!! ( my attempt at humour. )
Well, it's good to finally read you on the blog again. It's like, "She's back!" But new and improved.
As for how much tongue you'll have left, you may just have to accept her the way she is. Otherwise your idyllic new residence won't be so nice. Tongue biting has a way of ruining the nicest things.
I'm off for two weeks now, so won't be in contact much, but I'll try. Take care. Smk.
The box sets of Lost are out -- and all over the 'net, if you wanna download them (yes, it's illegal. Whatevs).
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