CONFESSIONS OF A FAT GIRL

The Things We Do

We wait by the phone.

We pick up the cell phone to make sure the volume is turned up or to be sure we did not miss a text message.

We shave our legs. You know, just in case.

We swear this time, it's going to be different.

We do ridiculous things like watch movies we've seen a hundred times and play Spider Solitaire to distract ourselves.

"I will not text him, I will not call him, I will not e-mail him...."

We get our hearts broken. We feel sad.

We try again.

A Blog About Wine And Other Things

I'm currently enjoying one of my favorites, a 2006 Tempranillo from Castoro Cellars in Paso Robles, Calif. 

My Snuggies are both (oh yes, I have two - one in leopard, one in purple with pockets) out of reach so I am wearing my bathrobe backwards. You know what? It's just like a Snuggie. 

I'm finishing up today's "Ellen" and listening to Lady Antebellum perform "Hello World." I love them -- I've seen them in concert twice. They are amazing. Their song "Need You Now" resonates with me... 

I typically save a special amount of scorn for Valentine's Day but I'm typically a good sport about it. I'll crack a few jokes, wear all black (which I pretty much do every day anyway), refer to "Singles Awareness Day" with a chuckle, and thank my mom for the sweet card from her and dad. 

But I feel especially... emotional this year. I had a shitty few months and every time I think things are improving, they just don't. And a while ago, I thought by now, things would be the way I wanted them, but they aren't. And my heart hurts. I am soul sick. 

A couple of my co-workers rallied for me and we went out for a nice, quiet dinner after work. I enjoyed a lovely glass of cab and we all agreed to try something new on the menu to make the night a little special somehow. They were my angels. 

So I write to you, internet universe of strangers, to admit I am sad. It is my mea culpa. I am sad and I am owning it. I will not laugh this year's wholy depressing holiday off with smart-ass jokes. Nor will I mock my friends basking in love and gushiness today. I admit that I envy them (I've really never done that before). 

Tomorrow is a new day when I will hopefully not feel sad. It is, by the way, the best day to buy candy. Chocolate treats 50% off! In shiny pink and red wrappers! 

{sigh}

Well, there. I feel better. And so I return to my wine and a new episode of "Castle." Because actually, if anyone could cheer me up, it would be Nathan Fillion. I kind of love him. 

EPIC FAIL

Well, let's not be too optimistic, kids. Let me just give you an excerpt from some e-mails I exchanged this evening and you'll get the idea:

Me:  ... Trying not to cry. And he kept apologizing and telling me how cool I am-- like that's what I wanna hear from him. R U kidding me? And then the clincher, of course -- can we be friends? I told him I have a lot of friends and was not in the market for more...

... We MOVED TOO FAST? Hello? I hate talking on the phone but he was enjoying it as much as I was and that kind of makes you a little closer when you meet less than 24 hours later. And making out in the back row of the movie? That was ALL HIM, so don't tell me I'm "too physical." What kind of MAN says that anyway?! {sigh}...

Her:  ... guaranteed I will have choice words about this in the a.m. I am so sorry this happened, sweetie. And this fucktard better not cross my angry ass in an alley. For reals... I will drop the hammer on his ass.

Me:  Your shared rage actually warms my heart.  His heart, however, I would like to rip out of his chest and play tennis with...

Her:  Dude I take boxing classes now. Fucker better watch his ass...

ANGER, people. ANGER and annoyance. And a lust for blood.

Here is the good part. I am not blaming myself. I am 100% sure I didn't make a single misstep here. I am positive, for once, it has nothing to do with how I look, what I weigh, what I said or did... This is clearly a big can of crazy I did not want to open.

So good riddance to bad rubbish. And really, thanks to him for the short-lived bout of happiness because no lie, it did feel good there for a while and I needed that.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker

Here's a real gem of a guy in case you're looking, ladies:

"...i like chicks who are attractive. if that makes me shallow, then i'm shallow. if you're butt ugly but have 'a wonderful personality' we can be friends, but if you want the kind of attention that chicks love i better like what i see. that means a PRETTY, FEMININE FACE. and BIG BOOBS (although if the face and ass are really nice i can tolerate smaller...but if they're too small, there are just some things i can't overlook!). speaking of the ass, it has to be spankable! that means it should be round with some gravity-defying action going on. if it's flat, or fat, then i probably won't be interested..."

By the way, it says in his stats he is divorced. I can't imagine why. (I'm not attacking him for his honesty. If looks matter to you, I applaud you for admitting it.)

FYI, I like dudes who use grammar. Also, guys who have class and tact.

Eff you, smug-divorced-guy.

Kind of a Weird Day

Happy Valentine's Day, one and all. And I mean that. From the heart of my bottom.

Having kind of a weird day over here in singles-land. I mean, sure, it's Valentine's Day but it also happens to be Saturday and I work all week so, dammit, I was gonna get my shit done today...

Oh such a horrible, horrible idea, poppets.

It started out fine. Had to drop something off at my doctor's office. Met my parents at the Acura dealership because we were going to have lunch after. This is when things got funky...

The salesman took his sweet time with the paperwork so we waited a while. And while we waited, this guy kept looking over at us. He wasn't unattractive or dirty or anything like that but he made my skin crawl anyway. And while my parents went to go hash out some financial stuff, I waited in this lounge area with him three feet away. He kept trying to talk to me and he was nice but still, crawly skin.

I had lunch soon after. With my parents. On Valentine's Day. Party of three. Dear Spinsterhood, welcome.

Coming back to my neighborhood, on the 101, I got cut off by a car full of nuns. I half-expected them to give me the finger as I sped up and went around them-- that would have delighted me, in fact.

At the mall, the store I needed to go to? Out of business. At least at this mall.

So I went to Bloomingdales which was, hilariously, crawling with men buying last minute gifts. I smiled at some of the gift items. Saw one guy buying lingerie (come on- really?), saw another buying a hat (I am optimistically assuming he has the kind of wife who would wear such a hat)... After NOTHING fit me in a way that was acceptable for public viewing, I found myself in Fragrances. I had a store credit burning a hole in my wallet anyway so I decided today was a good day to buy myself that perfume I've wanted since Christmas.

And the cashier asked me "Can I giftwrap this for your girlfriend?"

I paused just then. Somehow her thinking I was a lesbian seemed less annoying than thinking I was single to I said "no thank you. I would like to wrap it."

Then, still on my insane and deplorable "it's just like any other Saturday" bullshit, I went to Trader Joe's. SWEET JESUS. This place is like MECCA for men (I should have known) -- so many pre-cooked and premade items that you could say "honey, look what I made you" with pride, confident it will not give her food-poisoning.

So I did the only rational thing I could-- bought cookies, cheese, bread, ice cream, cheese poofs and ANOTHER bottle of champagne (I already have one at home). As always, the epitome of healthy eating.

When I was paying, the cashier told me "oh, this has been our best seller today. He'll love this. What did you get for Valentine's Day?"

So I told her: perfume.

Well, what have we learned from this today, children?

While I am not the biggest fan of nuns, I really hate cashiers.

Happy Valentine's Day.