Yeah, yeah, I’m a crier. We know this. Especially when left alone with my thoughts in the silence of a radio-free tanning bed, apparently.
I hopped into my favorite bronzing bed for ten minutes of much-needed relaxation and pigment modification, with the hopes of squeezing in a nap. I should have known that wouldn’t happen, but I had hopes. Instead, my mind started racing, thinking about everything I need to do and everything that’s going on (all of this, while I was breathing! Imagine that!). Naturally, my thoughts turned to my parents moving and my sister trying to move, which led to one ultimate conclusion that led to the aforementioned tears…Grandma was the glue that held us together, and now that the glue is gone, my family is falling apart.
Let me tell you something about crying in a tanning bed – it’s retarded. Don’t do it. The goggles get all full of tears and then the tears start sliding down your face, only to be blown every which way across your face and down your neck before they dry into salty lines of pathetic misery that, if you aren’t careful, can actually cause your tanning efforts to make you look like a pasty version of Mike Tyson. Luckily, I wiped mine away before that could happen to me (again – hey, at least I learned my lesson).
But really…I never see my uncles, my aunt spaced on my wedding shower (I don’t generally care about getting gifts, but when a family member that I actually like fails to come to a shower because she FORGOT about it, that means she owes me something really good…it never would have happened if Grandma were here), my mom is moving three hours away, my sister wants to move to stupid Michigan and my cat keeps trying to run away. I doubt the latter has anything to do with this thought process, but it’s been pissing me off…no balls, no claws, do the math, you blue-eyed devil! (For the record, my cat actually does have blue eyes…and might actually BE the devil.)
*Sigh* What’s a girl to do? Once my family has moved away, it’ll just be me, Mr. T, Tedders and the spawn of Satan sitting around, staring at each other. Mr. T is so busy that it’ll most likely end up being just me, the dog and Hellkitteh staring at each other, especially when the wedding is over. At least I can stay distracted with that for now (hey, I found a bright side!)…
Ah, fucket. I can’t change it, so I have to deal with it. And by “deal with it,” I of course mean “avoid it, drink heavily and wallow in self pity.” Who wants to join me? Pity parties are more fun when you’re not alone! Besides, I’ve been told that drinking by myself might qualify me to be an alcoholic…you don’t want me to be an alcoholic, right?
Speaking of wallowing, I sure have been eating like a pig lately. I feel like a total porker. Maybe I’ll address that tomorrow – I’ve been considering attempting to start the GM diet to detox my system, but I hate tomatoes and don’t eat much beef, so a few days will be difficult. (Have I ever mentioned how picky I am when it comes to food? I’ll save that for another day, but it’s ridiculous.)
But before any crazy detox starts, I will spend the evening gorging myself on pasta followed by enjoying some old school entertainment – Boyz II Men at Live off the Levee! That’s right, you are SO jealous. You are going to miss action like this: