Lighthearted fluff, or don't judge me but...

I'm done with controversy for now. I would like to host a little tea party (ok... it hurts me that that phrase has been co-opted) for the world but instead of tea we'll drink wine out of mini mugs. And talk about how much we like each other.

That'd be nice!

• For now, please don't judge me but... when Target didn't have spiderwebby stuff yesterday I felt betrayed. How does TARGET run out of meaningless shit?? That is their SOLE FUNCTION IN LIFE. And, ok, cheap leggings.
• Don't judge me but... I called the DC Public Library today to complain about still being charged a fine I've now paid twice. Why would you judge me? Because it's for $4.80. And it's going to the PUBLIC LIBRARY. But dude, I was pissed.
• Don't judge me but... I've had a stack of mail supposed to go out for two weeks and it hasn't. Sorry grandma!
• Don't judge me but... as much as I'm looking forward to the Rally for Sanity this weekend, I'm also exhausted at the thought of another go go go weekend. When does a girl get to sleep her Sunday away?!
• Don't judge me but... I'm loud. I laugh on the bus at my books (loudly). I shout in the middle of the streets whilst on my cell phone (loudly). I even MOVE (loudly). It's nearly impossible for me to be silent.
• Don't judge me but... I've been wearing the same clothes now for 24 hours. It's laundry day but as yet I can't be bothered.
• Don't judge me but... I haven't campaigned for ANYONE this season. And I'm not planning to. I feel bad, but I just didn't have the time this time around. I still might try to go out for Perriello on Monday... but we'll see.
• Don't judge me but... sometimes when I'm sleepy I've been known to drink 2L of Diet Coke in one day.
• Don't judge me but... when I'm working but not really I just make sure to run my hand over the mouse every 15 or so minutes so my computer doesn't idle.
• Don't judge me but... I still like Mariah Carey.

Fatties, Fatism, and why I have very little to say

So.

By now I'm sure you've heard of that Marie Claire writer who wrote some terribly insensitive post about Mike & Molly, a show I don't watch (well... as I don't have a TV I don't watch much. Except How I Met Your Mother and Modern Family on the internets. And that's case they're legen....JAYRY. See what I did there? HIMYM + MF? Awesome), but I know Sookie from Gilmore Girls, who is adorable. If you HAVEN'T heard, just google Marie Claire.

Trust me. It'll come up.

Anyway, I've gained a lot of weight lately. There's a reason. I've been eating a lot of terrible food. Ben and Jerry's, Rice-a-Roni, and Mac n Cheese. Seriously. If you look in my trash and recycling (and the changes on my scale) it's a veritable testament to Michael Pollan's "don't shop in the middle aisles" concept. Why? I don't know. The food is easy to prepare and tastes good I guess, although all of them dry me out like whoa, and I HAVE the time to slash enjoy cook(ing) (esp when I work from home), PLUS, every time I crack the seal of another container of Chubby Hubby or slice open the dehydrated cheese packet of yet another box of Kraft Cheddar EXPLOSION, I feel a terrible amount of guilt. Shame, even.

And yet I don't stop.

There's a post coming up on that from a SUPER personal level soon (SUPER FUN FOR YOU) but for now, I just want to say - I'm scientifically, objectively fat right now. Need a crane to get out of my house obese? No. But absolument overweight. And yet I definitely suffer from a tad bit of fatism. Whether I get it from "society" or "my mom" or "looking in the mirror and hating the changes I see" doesn't really matter (for my purposes. I do worry about the little girls reading fashion mags and starving themselves. Just not for this particular post). What matters is that yesterday when I was rushing down the escalator at Woodley Park and a tourist and her boyfriend were standing on two separate stairs and were large enough that my (considerable) girth had to squeeze uncomfortably passed both of them, I judged them.

And then realized - I AM them.

In the brouhaha that emanated from that AWFUL blog post there has been tons of righteous (and sometimes rightful) condemnation of the Marie Claire blogger's characterization of fat people. I'm not going to re-publish the hateful and hurtful quotes here, because that doesn't really solve anything and causes some yucky feelings all around. However, I haven't seen anything (look, not saying it's not out there. Just saying I haven't seen it) highlighting the parts when she was right. One commenter "Beth" who I saw called out (in a good way) on Jezebel talked about she's so sorry her weight affects insurance costs, she won't go to the doctor when she gets sick. I don't mean to be all playing-into-this but, you know, the Marie Claire lady was right. Obesity is tied to health problems. Period. End of story. If you're healthy (and luckily, I am - I just got a battery of tests done and they all came out OK, thank genes), then that's great for you!! However, I don't expect that if I continued to eat as I do and that I wouldn't get diabetes. Or high cholesterol. Or hypertension.

Because trust me? I would.

And that DOES cause health insurance issues, because now people with pre-existing conditions are not allowed to be dropped or rejected by insurance companies. Which is GREAT. Except what if those pre-existing conditions could be somewhat alleviated by yes, diet and exercise? How would you feel about paying for someone's heart medication because they refused to go to the gym.

Here's the part where things get sticky. Because that Marie Claire lady was an asshole about this when she said something like most of the fat people she knew could totally get it under their control. I'm here to tell you that's just fucking false. As a chubster myself, who has done the whole "struggled with my weight my whole adult life" I hate myself - HATE myself - when I eat ice cream by the pint. But I can't stop myself. And neither can the urging of my mom, or the patient-yet-stern looks from Grad School Ex while we were living together, or the rising numbers on the scale. Sometimes - like now - I am literally powerless over this compulsion. I used to joke about foodaholics anonymous in college, but now that I know about OA I'm actually grateful that there is such an organization out there.

And not so that I can make more jokes.

So I hate it when people who don't feel that way say "but it's completely within your control! Just stop being so lazy! Get some self-control!" Easy for you to say, I want to respond. It's enough self-control that I don't eat ice cream sandwiches (like, four scoops of cookies n cream between two thick slices of bread) as I did when I was in college. Mac and cheese IS self control for me. And lazy? You think I'm lazy? You wanna know why I don't run? Because I can't stand the thought that other runnings will judge me for (as that Marie Claire lady said) the "rolls and rolls of fat" on my body bouncing around, grossing THEM out. It's shameful that when I bike now, instead of being able to bike up and down whatever hill I want, I start panting after a mile of completely level ground. And I can't ask my athletic friends to help me, because it's EMBARRASSING how out of shape I am at this point.

I might as well stay home.

And yet I don't like it when people compare obesity to race or gender or sexual orientation. There's very little one can do (other than extremes like skin bleaching/dyeing or gender reassignment surgery) to alter those born-with traits. I'm not saying that many overweight people aren't genetically predisposed to that condition (it seems that many are. Science hasn't come up with a solid verdict though, so I'll stay away). I'm saying, thank Bally's Total Fitness, there IS something we can do. I can, for example, look in the mirror and say - this isn't what I want. I want to stay healthy. I want to stop eating crap because some inner voice is telling me. I want to change.

And then I can get some non-extreme help like diet and exercise.

I guess the title of this post is wrong - I have LOTS to say on this. But very little to say that resolves the debate, because it's so incredibly grey that everything has another side to it. But this is what I know. I'm fat, it doesn't make me happy. It makes me sad. And I can't stop the eating that's getting me this way. Judge all you want, but I can. Not. Stop. Continuing on would make me incredibly unhealthy, and society has a right to worry about my health because it hurts everyone's wallets. Luckily, there is a way out (leap of faith, leap of faith). On the day that I was able to recognize I have a problem, I made a call that hopefully will change my life. I'm getting the help I need to ameliorate my situation.

Maybe that Marie Claire lady will too. I suggest calling a happy shrink and starting to look at the feelings within. Because all that vitriol ain't much healthier than a super sized Big Mac and fries.

the "New Elite"

So.

I don't talk politics very often on this blog (ehem, other than that period 2 years ago when all I would do is blog about Obama), and I'm not even sure this is a political screed, but I DO have something to say, and it's NOT about being a bridesmaid, nor a drunk, nor a person who judges and gets judged.

Well sorta.

Instead, I want to talk about the Charles Murray (from the AEI) piece in this past Sunday's Washington Post. Entitled, "The tea party warns of a New Elite. They're right," Murray describes (mostly accurately, in my opinion) an interesting subculture that has emerged in America during the last 30 years of very well-educated, upper middle class, non-industrial workers that interbreed and produce super smart, super privileged children who just repeat the cycle again (going to Ivy colleges or sisters, then grad school, then finding a mate at grad school with the same credentials, and popping out little elitist wealthy babies).

Or something close to that.

It should be said that for the most part, I'm (ehem ehem) one of these people Murray is talking about. My parents both went to Rutgers, which isn't an Ivy or a sister but certainly is an excellent state school, my dad got his masters immediately thereafter, my mom this past year. Me and my lovely siblings grew up in relative wealth (compared not to our peers in NJ but certainly those around the country), never really wanting for anything, living, warmly ensconced, in one of those affluent suburbs of New York he sneeringly (I know it's sneeringly because I have said the same phrase in the same tone of voice) calls a "bubble of privilege" where we happily drove our used cars to the mall and hung out at chain restaurants on Friday nights.

I'm only being a LEETLE sarcastic here.

So it's not so much that I disagree with his premise, nor do I want to. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've said it on this space before (and I definitely say it on a regular basis in REAL life. My friends can only nod wearily when I start using the phrase "we've self-selected out" because they know where THAT'S going):

There are so many quintessentially American things that few members of the New Elite have experienced. They probably haven't ever attended a meeting of the Kiwanis Club or Rotary Club, or lived for at least a year in a small town (college doesn't count) or in an urban neighborhood in which most of their neighbors did not have college degrees (gentrifying neighborhoods don't count). They are unlikely to have spent at least a year with a family income less than twice the poverty line (graduate school deosn't count) or to have a close friend who is an evangelical Christian. They are unlikely to have even visted a favtory floor, let alone worked on one.

Now.

I do disagree with a FEW points. For example, Of my closest friends from college, 3/5 were from decidedly not upper middle class backgrounds, ranging from rural to non-gentrified urban. And yes, it was a good school. But still - it's not like I never ever met someone from a farm, or an evangelical Christian. My best friend's father STILL works on a farm, I lived with (and LOVE) a girl who believes she's going to heaven because she's accepted Jesus Christ as her Savior. And by the by, my dad works in a factory. Sure he's management. But it's a FACTORY people. Like, they make things there with machines!

I've SEEN it.

But as I said, I really don't want to argue those points, because in the end, I am as he said. A well educated, ridiculously lucky and blessed young woman who - if I do get married - will marry someone in my same subset of education, ambition and financial situation because at this point, that's all the people I know! There is of course a chance that I will meet and fall in love with someone in a different sphere of society than me, but it's unlikely.

Point Murray.

However, it is his extrapolated conclusion with which I take VEHEMENT umbrage:

The bubble that encases the New Elite crosses ideological lines and includes far too many of the people who have influence, great or small, on the course of the nation. They are not defective in their patriotism or lacking a generous spirit towards their fellow citizens. They are merely isolated and ignorant. The members of the New Elite may love America, but, increasingly, they are not of it.

VEHEMENT.

What REALLY gets my goad is that smug line "but, increasingly, they are not of it". Whenever anyone, be it AEI or de Toqueville or Glenn Beck, Sarah Palin, the Tea Party or Twain decides to decree what America is - and therefore, who it is not - I find myself deeply rankled. And selun moi (see what I did there? With the elitist French insertion?) Murray's postulation is merely an academic way to say "Take America Back".

To this I would ask - to where?

Because what is more American than immigrant-makes-good, marries an American, has three kids gives them all that he's got so they can become BETTER than the factory worker he is? What's more American than doing the best you possibly can for yourself and your kids? What's more American than a great education, coupled with hard work, becoming a senator, or a banker or a lawyer or doctor or President, when only a generation or two ago your family was farming the corn/tobacco in Illinois/Italy?

So don't give me this "not of it" shit.

Just because I don't know who replaced fucking Bob fucking Barker on the "the price is right" (no joke - that is one of Murray's arguments) - although... I feel like it's Drew Carey? - doesn't make me any more or less American than someone who does. Just like me being able to actually discuss why it's ridiculous that Tea Partiers want to repeal the 17th amendment to give more power to the states, but claim to be for the people and not for the elites doesn't make ME any more American than them.

Just you know. A little more historically well read.

(I mean, cmon now. Delve into the surface history - just skim it! - explaining the circumstances that explain why "elite" governors - and not "the people" - picked senators back in the day and just try to talk to me about how the 17th amendment wasn't a massive blow FOR us plebians.)

Anyway.

The point is, by virtue of the fact that we were born here we are all 100% American. The country therefore, is the sum of its parts (or perhaps even greater). It is Mad Men PLUS the Price is Right, Left Behind PLUS the New York Review of Books, you plus me plus Jimmie Johnson plus all my nonathletic fellow alums from Chicago.

Nothing is more "quintessentially American" than debate, John Adams and Thomas Jefferson - those first "real" Americans - made it true forevermore. But trying to say anyone is more or less American because they're more or less educated, more or less wealthy, more or less likely to be a "consultant" or a "miner" or anything, essentially, other than they were born here or they weren't but passed the test and took the oath? Well, that sounds a little "ignorant and isolated" to me.

In other words? The price is WRONG, bitch.

People Who Rock. People Who Suck.

So remember when I said I was having a bad reaction to those antibiotics last week? Well it got worse this weekend and I was UTTERLY miserable from the 30th minute (or so) of Jaime Moreno's last game for the United (my dad's wise take: "long career.") until... well. I suppose now? But now I have a headache because I haven't had enough caffeine in the past couple of days.

A girl can't win!!

Anyway, so this is not only late but it is abbreviated, and there aren't any people who suck. I know! Shocking!! It's not that there AREN'T any sucky people in the world, but I have no choice words for anyone. Except maybe pharmaceuticals. Even then, only maybe.

SO!

People Who Rock:

1. Aaron Gouveia. Great way to stand up to a bunch of anti-choice bullies who were harassing his poor wife on her way to terminate a pregnancy that would have ended in stillbirth. Tragic story, heroic man.
2. Monica Lewinsky. That's who I'm being for Halloween this year, and all I need is a blue dress! Is that mean? I hope not. I just really like flippy hair and wearing blue!
3. Peter's mom. She passed away last week after a battle with breast cancer that began in 2004, which ultimately took her life in the form of a terrible brain tumor. The family is asking that donations be made in her name to the ACS, and that makes them rock too, for turning this tragedy into hope for others.
4. Ginni Thomas. Thanks for making me have a reason to laugh at you and your husband, rather than cry over the fact that two such undeserving people are in such a high place in American society.
5. Anita Hill. Still classy after all these years.

Don't judge me but...

Long version today lads.

• Have been reading Marian Keyes a lot. Am re-reading This Charming Man (am thinking of you J. Jeter). Cannot stop talking in way done by Lola Daly. Means no subjects. Sometimes no objects. Is very peculiar. But cannot stop!
• Am on antibiotics for silly little infection (reason I was sleeping so much! YAY! Love reasons). Is making me having to go to the bathroom a lot. Do not enjoy using ladies at work so often. Working at home now.
• Speaking of which, am in pjs. Got home at 9am (e-hem) put them on and kept them on. Haven't really left bed. Suppose will have to at some point, but plan to keep pjs on.
• Have already mentioned annoying way of speaking. Still cannot stop!
• Cannot stop listening to Glee's Poker Face, Jay-Z's Empire State of Mind, U2's City of Blinding Lights. Is strange, addictive combo of music.
• Am researching florists for Maria instead of working. Whoopsies.
• Is because kind of dislike coworker. Only where kind of means really really. Lack of works pisses her off. Yay.
• Am not good about hiding it.
• Am almost relieved to be moving posts to terrible new place (almost) because can get away from annoying coworker.
• May try to annoy by speaking this way more.
• Yellow cab, gypsy cab, dolla cab, holla back.
• Miss New York so much that sometimes I get a little sad. Don't want to leave DC. Just want them to be neighbors. Could be nice! District could borrow eggs from City all the time!
• Never borrow eggs from neighbors. Only know one neighbor. And that was accidental. Might borrow diet coke though.
• Drinking too much Diet Coke. Perhaps up to 2L/day. Must stop.
• In fear will continue to speak like this forever.
• Think might have Spaghetti-Os for lunch.
• Oh. You. Look. So. Beeeeauuuuuutiful tonight.
• Was Grad School Ex's birthday yesterday. Went to birthday dinner, was fun. Promptly dreamt that GSE was in the Jerz at parents' house and had to decide whether to hide him or come clean. Analysis not needed.
• Btw, might have drank too much margaritas at dinner. Blame friends. Naughty margarita pushers. Been a while since I drank a lot. Am no longer good at it. Gives me cray cray dreams.
• Love the Muppets. LOVE THE MUPPETS.
• Task list at work not completed. Still blogging. Miss you guys.
• Don't even care about speaking this way anymore. S'fun. S'nice. S'special. Like me!
• Cause I am maaaaarvelous! I'm marvelous! I'm marvelous! I'm marvelous, so marvelous!

Got to love nobody.

In which I become a witch for a day... like HERMIONE, not Christine O'Donnell

A bit of a spoiler alert - this is one of the nerdiest blog posts I have ever written. If you're looking for ill advised sex, alcohol and stupidity, return another day. Similarly, if you don't want me to tell you anything about a certain theme park (ehem, read the title) in Florida, come back tomorrow. But if you're interested (or just that bored), read on...

So.

A few months ago, just at the beginning of break-up angst, Joey emailed Maria and I to ask if we were going to visit her down in Florida. She is finishing up law school down there (yay Joey!) and was like bishes, get yo' asses down here ASAP or else you will miss all the nice weather and tourist mocking. I agreed. I had been to her school before when Eva was a grad student there, and enjoyed THAT trip very much (ironically, that was also after a break-up. But had been planned beforehand. The trip, not the break-up. THIS break-up was planned. Ok now I'm confused, whatever, I had an amazing time).

But.

That was not Joey's idea. Instead, she wanted us to fly into Orlando (*not where she is at school) and then meet up with her to go to - wait for it - the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.

C'mon now - you read the title, you knew it was coming.

Anyway, as much as I am The Biggest Harry Potter Fan that I know (not ever. I am fond of telling a story in which I was reading some HP blog in anticipation for the 5th or 6th book and someone was posting how the moon wouldn't have been showing the night in the 1990s when Lupin goes all werewolfy in the part of England where Hogwarts is located. I may be able to quote parts of each book at length, having read almost all of them double digit times (each) but I am not looking up weather patterns), I didn't really think I'd ever make it down to Universal. This is because 1) I don't like the movies at all (total snob, ask my friends) and the park seems to be based off that, and 2) no way was Florida/Muggle Hogsmeade/Hogwarts going to be as good as the real thing.

You know. The one in my head.

However, it was a fragile time, I LOVE these girls, I LOVE Harry Potter, and the sun makes me happy. So I said - OK. I bought my tickets, we eeeeeeeped about it a few times, and I told the friends who I knew would be jealous. My expectations, in truth, were not high. I was just excited to see my best friends from college, the girls who made me love my school, who were for many years the people who made my parents think I was a fauxbian. A girl who doesn't do the deed with other ladies, but does everything ELSE because she's found a friend who fulfills her more than any man.

That's a whole different conversation though.

Anyway, as the time approached, I was like - yay, HP, but seriously, not expecting much. I honestly was more worried about flying (which went fine in case you were wondering. Xanax is a beautiful thing. I didn't so much as think "panic" during the flight there OR back. I think next it is time for a trans-Atlantic jaunt) than excited about seeing Muggle Hogsmeade. I mean, it was MUGGLE made. How GOOD could it be?

The answer: So. Fucking. Amazing.

At this point I would LIKE to make those of you still reading SUPER jealous by telling you what you can do there (two words: Pumpkin Juice. One more: butterbeer) but honestly? If you're a big HP fan, you should just put it on your planner to go at some point. It was an experience I will never - EVER - forget. Sure, there were a few minor (very!) complaints - no Great Hall in Hogwarts (at least that you walk through), and while the Dementors scared the shit out of me, I think more could have been done to freeze guests when they came along and give it as close of a "real" feeling as possible.

But?

I'd do it again. Again and again and again. In fact, I went on the "forbidden journey" ride three times; it was only going to be two, but the second time one of the virtual videos (that make you feel like you're moving) froze so we didn't end the ride properly. While the staffer we told didn't allow us a re-ride, when we got back to the beginning of the line (which was also the exit) we told a lovely young woman - Kayla? - who let us skip the castle and just get back on the ride for one last amazing journey.

It was magical. (Hate me for being punny, but it was.)

I know there are those who will say it's just a massive tourist trap where you pay a ridiculous amount of money for the ticket ($82 for a one day one park pass for non-Floridians) just to be allowed to spend MORE money. And on Friday evening before I went, I would have been with you. But honestly, as a true blue (or true maroon-and-gold) Harry Potter fan, you can't put a price tag on the experience of watching a wand PICK Joey. Being able to browse through Honeydukes was well worth the $9.95 for a Chocolate Frog (I haven't eaten it yet - don't know what my card will be!!). And walking/flying/standing in awe all through Hogwarts, with its talking portraits and Dumbledore's study...

I feel like a visa commercial when I saw the whole thing was priceless.

Seeing Joey and Maria too was simply amazing. These girls (as are many of you who read this blog, let's be honest, if you know the site AND me IRL I must love you) are my lifeblood. It was a restorative weekend, better than a spa day, a wine night, and karaoke combined.

I mean, there was some of that too.

But all in all - an amazing weekend. No complaints. Not even about the flights. In Harry Potter parlance (as if this needed to geek out a little more) let's just say that if I needed to cast a Patronus right now, I feel like it would be the easiest flick of the wand, ever.

People Who Rock. People Who Suck.

LONG WEEKEND! Except when your company decides it's not. And so all your lovely plans to see friends in New York fall thru. But for those of you who ARE celebrating Il Giornio di Cristoforo Colombo - enjoy it, amici miei! I'm only a tad bit gelosa.

People Who Rock:

1. It is a blogger heavy list so let's start - Mademoiselle Hauteness at Carrie Bradshaw is Full of Shit for me dando un award;
2. DC Laura for remembering to take her pill EVERY DAY THIS WEEK AT THE SAME TIME! No babies;
3. Lexa at Lemmonex for showing up on my bus last night, thus making me 1) super happy to see her, 2) excited about living near each other, 3) thrilled to see her, 4) commit in person to coming to Lilu and Maxie's birthday, 5) making me so ecstatic to see her I almost got off at her stop which would have been awk;
4. Justice Elena Kagan for not having me forcibly be removed last night at dinner when I harassed her. Because I love her. And she is le awesome. She ROCKS, in fact;
5. Grace (not my sister, the one at) Law with Grace for having the most presh baby ever (see, wouldn't it have been awkward if it was my sister I was talking about?) and making her way back to blogging;
6. The people of Puttenham, England; and
7. Liz at It's Unbeweavable and A Girl at Dramatic Sigh. There really aren't a lot of words to be said here, except that these girls are going through a ridiculously tough time. And I hope that everyone continues to give them the love, support and uber good karma they deserve.

People Who Suck:

1. Chris Christie. Yes he still is at number five. Yes he sucks multiple times this week. Because HE SUCKS SO MUCH;
2. Female troubles;
3. People who say female troubles;
4. People who hurt my friends, IRL or online. You fucking suck. A lot;
5. Chris Christie. Either until he fucking stops hating on cops and teachers (the very people who you know, MAKE SOCIETY RUN IN A CIVIL WAY), he is number five on the people who suck list. Because he sucks, times five;
6. Working on the weekend, esp when it's a 3 day, esp when you thought you might see your favorite New Yorkers, and esp esp ESP when the metro has decided to shut its effing doors so you're going to have to find some OTHER way to get out into the middle of Nowheresville, VA; and
7. Did I mention Chris Christie??

Better than champagne

So.

I've had a couple of rough days at work. I can't really go into it (for a bunch of reasons, all based around the idea that I'd like to remain employed for now) but suffice to say, I MIGHT be about to be moved from a team I don't hate to one that I will. For a lot of reasons. And it's been dramatic.

Well, of course it has.

But instead of whining about it (slash potentially outing myself to my employer) I instead am going to talk about 2011. As in - The Year of the Weddings. It's kind of funny that I haven't talked about it in this space yet as it is literally the Biggest Wedding Year Ever (and isn't that what this was originally about? Sorta?) but also, because it's also the BEST wedding year. Sure, Maggie's wedding was AMAZING and FUN and everything I love about everything (and Maggie, and Dexter, and Anne), and I still look back on the pictures from Eva's wedding when I miss her and Emilia and also, am having a bad day and want to remember that FABULOUS one, and Caroline's wedding this past January, aside from being the first one that Grad School Ex and I went to together (the only one?) but ALSO the first time I went to Miami, my first wedding with Maria and Jo, and also - you know, I LOVE Maggie, Eva and Caroline. But next year is going to be epic. 10 weddings. 4 of which are girls I'd call my best friend, one is also a boy I'd call my best friend, and ALL of which (4 girls + 1 boy) read the blog, so I'm going to call them out right now, in wedding date order:

• Becky - I'm an (almost) b-maid in this wedding, esp if almost bmaid means going wedding dress shopping and being SO EXCITED ABOUT THE DRESS SHE BOUGHT LAST WEEKEND. Whew. Still getting over it. Becky met her fiance at grad school many man moons ago. Well, not that many. In fact on this list, they are the shortest-lived couple. But I've known them since the day they met, and I could not be happier for them. When you think of soul mates, you think of these two. And that's all I'm going to say before I preview too much of my toast.
• Maria - my favorite roommate from college (snap! TIED for favorite Jo, don't worry) is marrying the love of her life in what I expect to be the West Side Storiest wedding ever. But with a happy ending. She's got impeccable manners and taste, so I expect my bridesmaid dress will not be hideous. EXCITED. Also, she's coming to the District in a few weeks to go shopping with Caroline, and I'm thrilled to be able to go with her. AND her wedding is in the south, AND I love her family (except when they are being douches to her) AND I love her fiance AND AND AND did I mention I can't wait?
• Anna and Dan - I'm a groomsgirl (groomswoman? Help us out there people) in this one, and I could not be HAPPIER unless I was officiating. Cough cough. Look I get it guys, I know your parents weren't on board. I'm totally over it. Almost.  But let's be honest, Dan and I have been through a LOT and Anna and I have been through as much though not the SAME a lot and I get so excited and weepy thinking about their wedding I think I need to start taking xanax when I talk to either of them about it. Which I think they'd agree with. This wedding is going to be in the area, only 1 of 2 next year, which means that not only do I get to force myself on all their planning, but also, that I can plan real life pre-parties at places I know!! Also, I love them. Did I mention that?
• Becca - well. No need to talk about her here, since I probably do it too much already. Suffice to say, her fiance Neil is the one person I think actually might treat her the way I would if I were a man and hot enough for Becca. Their engagement has been LONG COMING and I couldn't be happier for her. And him. Cause he is one LUCKY asshole, and she has the prettiest ring ever. Also, their engagement was on my college campus which I LOOOOOOVE and made me weepy and now I think I'm going there again. Sigh.

In addition, my LOVELY brother Michael is marrying his LOVELY Alexis, and my HS fave Peter is marrying his wife again in Brasil (amaaaaaazing). Since I haven't gotten invites/STDs for the rest, I'll leave it at that (um, Becca, I'm invited to your wedding, right?) but let's just all own up to it now - 2011 is going to be a very good year

Like a summer rose. A really NEEDY summer rose.

So.

Today was going to be about pasta and who won the Big Competition (ok, I won but that was foretold and the thing is, Prego still didn't lose and that makes me sad), but I'll save that for tomorrow because what I REALLY want to talk about is me.

Well, right. This IS a blog after all.

Last night Grad School Ex and I had a conversation (we have a lot of those these days) about wants and needs and who can offer what to the other person and who needs to manage their expectations and no, we didn't use those words but I've been at work now for whatever amount of hours so I'm thinking in work-speak.

I'll circle back with you later on that.

And anyway, as the conversations often do, this one boiled down a great deal to me needing affirmation, re-affirmation, and re-RE affirmation that I am awesome, I am loved, I am the bestest of the best and who wouldn't want to be with me/be my best friend/make me hot chocolate/compliment my meatballs.

What. Those are the things I need right now. It's COLD OUTSIDE.

The thing is, I had gotten pretty annoyed with GSE over the weekend about not feeling wanted/needed enough and while I haven't talked a ton about this on the blog, there's a possibility that we're discussing of us getting back together. And I feel that since he's the one who wanted to break up, I'm the one who needs to feel fixed up again before that can happen. And when I say "fixed up" I mean "loved up" and when I say "loved up" I mean told about a bagillion times a day that I am wonderful, beauteous and perfect the way I am, and that the only thing people ever want to do is love me and bask in my attention.

Ok, I'm sorta joking. But only sorta.

Anyway, so the weekend was busy for both him (friend stuck in town with a scary passport situ) and me (weddings weddings galore!! See: Wednesday) and what that meant is that by Sunday evening I was feeling ignored. Which makes me needy. Which makes me feel vulnerable. Which I hate. Which makes me upset. Which makes me needier. Which makes me vulnerabler. Et cetera, et cetera, ad finitem.

Did you know "cetera" is actually pron. "ketera" in Latin? Well, maybe.

So I was annoyed, and then we had this conversation, which make me feel less annoyed but still, usually once unsettled it takes a few days of super powered reaffirmation for me to feel back to normal. Except then after he went home and I opened up my computers and started reading work emails from my boss that weren't full of praises and accolades and I felt awful, it hit me.

Hard.

Essentially, pre-revelation I had been waiting for a glowing email from said boss about something I had turned in Friday afternoon and was (and AM) very proud of. It took actual hard work, some serious thinking, analysis and decision-making, and also, color coordination. I thought I had pulled all that off with aplomb, AND in three hours no less, and was waiting to be patted on the head and told I am amazink.

Well instead.

I got an email full of criticism, some of which was deserved and some of which was just wrong. And I went from full of warm happiness about an evening gone well, and a feeling of reassurance that Grad School Ex and I are still not making mistakes by talking to each other, to the epitome of crestfallen and crappy headed.

Kinda like the rain makes me feel. BOO RAIN.

And then I had the Revelation, which was not that revealing except that despite my 27 years I can be incredibly slow sometimes, and so here it goes except you probably already knew it:

I'm needier than, um, everyone I know.

I always knew I needed a ton of the proverbial love and affection; I have an incredibly distinct memory of sitting at my kitchen table with my mother many many moons (say, 10-12 years worth) ago, crying about how - wait for it - my band director wasn't telling me how awesome I (the BEST drum major this side of... the... Passaic River) was. And then again, a really quite clear memory of twirling down University Place with Joey and Maria after being honored at a pretty big deal award ceremony my fourth year of college, and being like - huh. Why haven't my parents called me to congratulate me.

Again. Since they already had every day since I got the award letter.

And while I'm not apologizing for it, it was kind of surprising to realize that no matter what people say, or do, it's incredibly rare that it's good enough. I mean, yes. For the first minute/hour/day/week/month even, I'm happy and feel cocooned in their warm appreciation. But then it wears off. And like a hit of... some drug (I don't know, I don't do drugs!! Let's say... heroin? Sure! Heroin!) I need another, but a stronger one, and one that preferably I don't need to seek out too much.

What I'm saying is, I'm MA and I'm an affectionaholic.

And... I don't know how to change it? How to (again, work-speak) manage my OWN expectations of what is normal and rational to expect from people. Because if I can't, I'm going to end up disappointed with people all the time, whether they are boys or bosses or besties. Either I learn that that's not normal, be sad, or just hire a personal cheerleader. Because then I'd just have her around me all the time, telling me I'm G - R - E - A - T GREAT!!!!!!!!!!!!

People rock, people suck, but WHATEVS

Yo.

So um. What's going on with all of you. I miss you guys. Interested parties want to know! Here's what's going on with me:

• I just ate an entire pizza from Open City and feel ridiculously full.
• Work is still busy. How did THAT happen??
• I saw Grad School Ex in a crowd last night for the first time since the break-up and it went OK. Of course, it could help that we're talking a lot and a good portion at the partee knew that. Or that could have hurt. I don't know. I'm still undecided.
• This weekend is ridic busy. Anna and Dan are in town (YAY!!!!), it's Chelsea's birthday, Becky and I are going wedding dress shopping, the progressive march is ON, I'm doing a brunch with my friend Julie whose husband is FINALLY taking the LSAT, and on Sunday there is a Big Pasta Competition going down at my house. Check Monday's post for deets and to see who won (me. I won. Let's just be honest, I'm going up against Prego).
• My bestity best best got engaged last night and I've cried 2X about it. That's impressive, I thought I wouldn't have stopped really.
• My apartment is (mostly) clean for the first time since I've moved in. Like, I DUSTED people. DUSTED.
• This weather is amazing so I went biking. Sure, it was like a mile total, but it felt amazing. I should get back to biking.
• I bought new leggings. I lost that battle apparently.
• Speaking of which, how come every time I go to Target - the "discount" store! - I end up spending $100. AT LEAST. EVERY TIME. Discounts my ass. It's like they secretly lure you in with cheap replacement hampers and then BAM! I'm buying hair product (cause look! So cheap!) and cardigans (so COMFY! and CHEAP!) and a shitton of new frames for the new apartment (I need them! CHEAP!!!!).
• Um, right, that's what happened yesterday.
• Uhhhhh I think that's it. So yeah. What's going on with YOU.