Yeah, about that carjacking?
Um...she's 27. She's a stripper. And she has a curfew?

Friends, fashion, Friday
I received a call this evening from a dear friend. One of the people I love most in the world. "Of such small acts are memorable days made." Thanks for checking up on me, dear Lurker. I appreciate it more than I can say.

So, have you seen the TLC show What Not to Wear? Women, labeled "fashion disasters" by their friends and family get nominated for makeovers. Two fashion experts (one of whom I think might be just the slightest bit gay) trash her wardrobe (both verbally and literally) give her $5000 and a week of shopping (with their advice) in New York. The week concludes with hair and makeup and the big debut back home where the family and friends are suitably impressed.

I have nightmares like this.

I am fortunate to have many wonderful female friends. Many, like the aforementioned Lurker, the Foreigner, Ms. S de M, the Belle of Belfast City, and Mama D are beautiful, stylish, chic, sexy...all those wonderful female adjectives. And then there's me....the fashion conscience objector. Remember me, I was married in jeans and a vintage purple tux jacket from a thrift store. My make-up bag consists entirely of Chap-Stick. My beauty routine is lather, rinse, repeat. I hate to shop (except for books and music). I hate trying on clothes. I hate having to keep taking your shoes off and put them back on again (I really hate that part). And I have no doubt that at least one of my beautiful female friends has on more than one occasion wished I could be made over. Or at least kidnapped for a day and forced at gunpoint into a dress and some mascara just to see what you got in the end.

I am proud to say that I am the least feminine woman I know. I'm not sure where that comes from. My mother and sisters like their lipstick and heels. They're not exactly girly girls, but they do like to get dressed up, put on perfume, and layer on the eye shadow. I, on the other hand, like to pull on my jeans, run a comb through my hair, and get the hell on with my day. I've never tried to be fashionable because I've never wanted to be.

No, really.

It's odd, because many people perceive an unfashionable woman as one that is lacking in self-confidence. And while I'll admit that I'm completely insecure about a lot of things...I've never really given my appearance any thought. My naughty bits are covered, my shirt is clean, my jeans have no holes, that's about it for me. I've never wanted to be in style, although according to Husband I do have a style. It's just quirky. (Thank god for men who love anti-girls!) I think if someone nominated me for a makeover show I'd refuse. Not because I'm insecure, but because I really am happy with who I am and how I am.

Happy Friday, dearies. Hope you all have a wonderful weekend.

Health update
Well, first the good news. I had another great session with the acupuncturist yesterday and have been back pain-free for over 24-hours. You have no idea how huge that is.

Unfortunately my old mystery GI trouble is back and I've been vomit girl again, along with a few other nasty symptoms. Every time I think I'm over the worst, I have another flair up. Very frustrating. So I'm my usual weak self at the moment. No real food since Monday night. Today I had 3 whole Saltines (woo hoo!) but later on I had a few sips of ginger ale that seemed to set things off again.

Sigh...

I do not recommend this diet.

In other news this week on PBS there's an episode of "American Masters" that focuses on folk singer Pete Seeger. I can highly recommend it....even though I haven't seen it yet. Why the confidence? Turns out Husband's mother, Pamela Bloom of NYU was one of the researchers for the documentary. I can't wait to see her name in the credits. I'm so proud of her.

Never a good idea...
A professional soccer player in Austria is in trouble for showing up in public dressed like Hitler.

OK, here's a tip. DRESSING LIKE HITLER IS NEVER A GOOD IDEA.

Seriously, on what plane of crazy existence does that ever make sense?

Also not a good idea:

- Not voting.
- Buying a SUV because that's what everyone else drives. (Trust me, you don't need one!)
- Being embarrassed to have fun in public.
- Spending more time watching reality TV than you do reading, talking to the people you love, or having fun outside.
- Avoiding black and white movies "because they're old."
- Not using your turn signal.
- Making racist or sexist jokes.
- Dressing like Hitler (I know that's already been covered, but it can't be stressed enough.)
- Thinking "Dancing with the Stars" is culture.
- Making a tuna sammich outta tuna cat food.

Hey, look at the time! Off to KZSU.

Whatever happened to...?
I envy people with long-standing friends.

I consider myself lucky to have friends that I've known for 20 years. But many of them have friends they've known since elementary school. I'm not even really friends with anyone I went to high school with. The one person I was really close to, my best friend Steve, died of AIDS in the 90's.

Since then the only other high school friend I've kept it touch with is my friend Maria. And it can hardly be said we have a close friendship since she hasn't lived in the US for about 20 years. She and her husband and their two gloriously international, globe-trotting children, have lived all over the world. Maria & Robert take teaching jobs and they'll stay someplace for a year or two and move on. They're rarely back in the states. Our friendship is now really my waiting for their yearly Christmas card to find out where they are this time. (The most recent card has them in Saudi Arabia. Before that it was Malaysia, and before that it was Japan.)

But I don't have anyone who "remembers when." And sometimes I miss that.

I've never been one of those people with dozens of friends. I have a lot of acquaintances, but people I consider friends; the kind of real, close friends you can call when you're sick or your life has fallen apart....of those I'm definitely in single digits. But I know how fortunate I am to have that many. And believe me, I went for quality -- not quantity. My friends are each and every one amazing, fabulous, wonderful. I love them all. And my best friend, Husband, is the most amazing of all. I just hope I'm as good a friend to them as they have always been to me.

Sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am.