Thursday, November 17, 2005

Pig in a Poke

That title either means that it’s another “grab bag” post today…or that I’m a fatty in a sack.

Perhaps both are true? Thanks to my new diet however, the former is more true than the latter. Here we go.

Gravity and GAP Have Conspired to Make Me Look Like a Perv

I’ve always been a huge proponent of calling people before you show up at their doorstep. Really, it’s just common courtesy. After all, you don’t know what people are doing at home at any given moment. Luckily, my friends never show up without calling first. They’re just good people. At least that’s what I suspect since none of them ever show up (oh, how sad).

Now, I never show up an-announced, true. But my nature being what it is, I’ve shown up plenty of times early. Sometimes extremely early. I’m talking “sitting on the curb outside their place for 10 minutes trying to find that balance of being early but not obscenely early” early. And I’ve gotten that distinct feeling that I’ve interrupted people before. That feeling when you can tell that something has just happened, but you don’t know what.

“Oh, my host’s face is flushed, they seem nervous and out-of-breath. Either they were crying or…let’s just pretend they were crying…all alone.”

I’m sure that you’ve gotten this feeling before. We all have. But why is that? Do we expect our friends to be a bunch of depraved deviants, just getting in one “quick one” before their buddys show up? Or is it that irrational fear that someday it will actually happen that makes us suspicious? Or is it perhaps that we know how we behave that makes us wary? In any case, it’s not your host’s problem is it?

Anyway, yesterday I got a call from Kevin. I had some stuff of his here that I borrowed and have been trying to get back to him before Tanya throws me out (for some reason she doesn’t like to dine with a Digital Video Deck on the dinner table…go figure). So, as I said, he called yesterday.

“Hey I just got back from my audition and thought that I could stop by, pick up my DV deck and hang out for a little while.”

“Sure, I’m not doing anything…when? Where are you?

“In your driveway. I can come back later if you want.”

“No, come on up.”

Hey, he did call before he knocked, right? And he offered to come back later. But you can’t really tell people to come back later. It makes it sounds like you’re doing something you shouldn’t.

And I wasn’t. I was just sitting here trying to find some recording software. Nothing seedy…or even interesting. But still, I wasn’t exactly prepared for a guest. I have to at least try to look cool, right? Look at least put-together. But I wasn’t. I did some quick cleaning and opened the door for him…a little late.

No big deal. We sat around and talked for a bit. I gave him his stuff. He left.

Now, I don’t know if it’s my brain playing tricks on me after the fact, but he seemed a little uncomfortable. Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. But I got the distinct feeling that he thought that he had interrupted something. And since I was home alone

Why am I worried about it, you ask? Normally, I wouldn’t be. But I was wearing a pair of pants that I got at the GAP. I don’t wear these pants very often so I had failed to notice that they have one very annoying…quirk. A quirk that I have absolutely no control over.

After Kevin left, to my horror, I noticed that my pants had done it to me again…my zipper was down.

So much for looking put-together.

So much for not looking like a pervert.

Maybe he didn’t notice?

No, he noticed. I just know it. Damnit.

Snowman Jam

No, not preserves made from Frosty’s peeps. Tanya got me a great present yesterday. One that I was very excited about. I would say that I’m a little embarrassed to mention it but I just got done telling you that I hung out with my friend while my pants offered a grotesque window to my beanie-weenies. So this is nothing.

Tanya got me the singing snowman from Hallmark. Maybe you’ve seen the commercials. It’s cheap if you buy three greeting cards. So Tanya bought three greeting cards…and I got a new friend. One who won’t judge me if I don’t zip up every once in a while.

Who cares if he sings like Dean Martin on helium, he’s a fine piano player (and singing like Dean Martin, even on helium, can never be that bad).

We jammed.

He rocks. Thanks, Tanya.

Fun Fact: It’s weekly weigh-in time! I’ve been on the South Beach diet for exactly one week so far. Last week at this time I weighed 184 pounds (at least that’s what my scale says; the gym scale has a different agenda).

It’s been a week of eating meat, cheese and lots and lots of vegetables. And inadvertently cheating twice. I had an apple (really, how pathetic! How do you cheat with an apple?! I forgot that in the first two weeks you’re not supposed to have fruit) and last night I had a glass of white wine (I forgot about that too, it was an ingredient in the Cornish game hens that I was making and if I hadn’t drank it then, it would have sat around until it was undrinkable).

But now I weigh…drumroll…a big 175!

Hey, that’s 9 pounds! That’s “Biggest Looser” numbers there. Only 5 more to go. But I still need to loose my belly. I swear, I’m the only person on Earth who can be fat and skinny at the same time.

NASA should study me.


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