Pretend Friend

Listening to: Groovy Kind of Love – Phil Collins. Don’t judge me people, it’s Daddy G’s and my song.

Mood:  Calm and happy

This post is kind of hard for me to write because I don’t really enjoy writing about frustrating relationships with family and friends.  I try really hard not to be the whiney emo type. I find them irritating.  However, I am a girl, no matter what anyone has told you and I do have feelings. Again, don’t listen to what people tell you. Kidding of course. Ahem.

I’m not the type who makes close friends easily. I have been like this my entire life. The first 2/3 of my life were spent being so painfully shy I hated being around crowds. I’ve gotten a bit better. I’m no longer shy and have a lot of casual friends in the US. It still takes me a long, long time to open up to someone and trust them as a good friend. Once I do, it’s forever. I’m not always a great friend. I forget to write, and call, and have been known to forget birthdays on a regular basis. However, I have genuine affection for most of my close friends and consider them semi-family.

I’m not going to name the person that inspired this post, because that’s just childish and would destroy a few other friendships along with hers. Let’s just keep it anonymous. Hopefully if she ever does read this, she won’t realize it’s about her. Our families have ties that go way back. Well, our husbands do anyways. Since I enjoy her husband’s company a lot, I really made an effort to get to know her and be friendly to her too. We did develop what I considered to be a close friendship. There were a few times along the way when things were a bit awkward and I wondered if perhaps she wasn’t quite as in to the friendship as I was, or perhaps her husband was pushing the friendship as he and Daddy G were old friends.  Nothing ever obvious or said to my face, but subtle things. Flaking on meet ups, over exaggeration of how much she loved coming to my house, eating what I cooked, etc. The kind of thing where it’s so over the top you wonder if she isn't going home and rolling her eyes and wishing she didn't have to deal with you at all. Yet she always greeted me in what seemed to be genuine friendliness and enthusiasm.

Of course, I brushed these things off, being the friendly, but rather socially inept person that I am. She was one of the reasons I was really sad to leave New York. Over the course of the years I had known her, I really enjoyed her company and thought she felt the same.

Fast forward to today. I never hear from this person. Ever. Even light hello emails are met with silence. After a while I quit emailing her because even I can take a hint after a while.

What I want to know is why the fake enthusiasm and friendship? I’m not made of porcelain. If you didn’t want to be friends, or come over, or anything, wouldn’t it have been easier just to be honest up front? I really wouldn’t have been insulted at all. After all, not everyone gets along.  This kind of thing is insulting though. I wouldn’t have bothered with caring had I known you weren’t all that thrilled to be friends. In fact, I hate this kind of shit. The social interactions that make me feel like a ridiculous imbecile because I don’t always pick up on vague, obscure cues. It’s bad enough when it happens with people I don’t know all that well, but it’s a lot worse with someone I think I’m close to. Perhaps she just wasn’t the outspoken type and didn’t like confrontation. I really feel like I have no idea now. Perhaps I was too intense in my friendliness and she was scared I’d do something awkward like cry. Yeah, so not happening.

I’m not devastated, just disappointed. Making good friends isn’t easy for me, so when I think I’ve made one, it’s all the more difficult when I find out it was just a mirage.

Becky

Ye Old Gimp

Listening to: Fat Bottom Girls – Queen. Oh the irony.

Mood:  Calm and happy

So a few days ago, I decided to tackle the disgusting ceiling fans in our house. I am definitely one of those housewives that notice obscure dirt and make a project out of it.

I grabbed one of the 5 (no kidding!) buckets in our house and went looking for liquid soap. I was hoping to use Lyzol (the Indian version of Lysol) that my housekeeper uses for the floor since we didn’t have any regular liquid dish soap. Hmm. She has used all the Lyzol and forgot to ask me to buy a new one. Wonder how long the floor has been swabbed down with just water. Anyhow. I decided just to settle for a hot water and a scrubby textured rag. I grabbed a kitchen chair and got to work. We only have 5 fans in our house. 1 for each bedroom, 1 in the living room, and 1 for the dining room. It was a short and extremely satisfying project even though all of the dirt showered all over me and the floor, even though I was doing my best to catch it all with a soaking wet rag. 15 minutes tops.

The next day I hopped out of bed. Well, perhaps hopped out is a gross exaggeration. It may have been a slow crawl to the coffee powder. I noticed that in one of my legs, more specifically the one I used to lift myself up on to the kitchen chair, was operating funky.  As in stiff, sore, and generally gimpy in my leg and butt muscles. This continued for the next 3 days.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am officially out of shape. Okay, you can stop laughing now. I haven’t been in shape for the past 10 years. For some reason, in my mind, my recent weight loss was somehow magically connected with being fit. I was happy with this delusion until 15 minutes of unusual movement reduced me to a gimp. I am in desperate need to some weight lifting and muscle toning. Like yesterday. So along with my austerity measures to cut down on soda and cookies, I also need to be doing some proper exercise. When I get done with the hospital and school visits (just general business) I think the gym in my complex needs to be visited.

I love lifting weights and would love to get back into this. I have 5 lbs weights, stretchy bands (the technical term) and a kettle ball at home, so even if I can’t get to the gym, I can start at home.

Anyone have a favorite workout video for toning or even better a kettle ball?

Becky

Swedish Dirty Joke

I made a crack about a photo of mine recently that my Swedish roots are showing. I don't have Nordic ancestry, but it sure does look like it now. A friend of mine told me this joke and it cracked me up. If you're Swedish or Finnish, please, don't get offended. It's funny.

A middle aged man went to a bar for a drink. He sees a young, twenty something, beautiful, white blond girl and proceeds to use his best game on her. She eventually warms up to him and they decide to go home together. Things get on exactly how you think they do and they hop into bed.

When they're done, the man asks her, "Are you finished?"

"Well...no." The girl replies

The man is a bit discouraged, but decides to give it another go. Back to bed they go.

When they're done, the man once again asks her, "Are you finished?"

"Um, no." The girl replies.

The man is a bit worried, but decides to give it one more try. Back to bed they go.

When they are done, the exhausted, sweaty middle aged guy asks her, "Please, please be finished."

"I'm not Finnish. I'm Swedish." The girl replies.



Bwa ha ha ha. Cracked  me up. Also made me miss lots of good friends that were comfortable enough to tell me fun dirty jokes.

Becky

The Great June 3rd Hair Dye Caper

Mood: Harumph.

Listening to: Hritik Roshan shake his handsome little behind while singing Senorita – Zindegi na Milegi Dobara

I have been dying my hair at home for more than 10 years. I’m a natural blonde, but it hasn’t looked this naturally light blonde since I was about 8.  So. I’m not a newbie when it comes to finding my way around a home dye kit box. Before we left the states, I stocked up on hair dye because I knew that it would be damn near impossible to find hair dye in my color in India, and I’m a vain broad like that. Just go au naturel – oh the horror.

After looking in disgust at my inches grown in roots, I decided it was time to bust out a box.

I followed the box directions to a T, making sure to thoroughly coat my hair. There was an incident about a year ago in which I ended up looking like a leopard because I didn’t do it right and make sure the dye hit every single strand. I was conscious about that when I was coating my hair with noxious smelling chemicals this time.

After waiting an hour (yes, you heard me an hour. Usually when I dye my hair it takes 20 minutes!) I washed and rinsed as instructed. After stepping out of the shower, I looked in the mirror and gasped in horror. Not only was most of my hair about 3 shades blonder than I’ve ever dyed it before, there were a few spots that did not get bleached for whatever reason. So some dark, dark blonde spots, and almost white hair everywhere else. Yeah, I totally wasn’t letting it be like that. I took the left over dye (which was oozing out of the bottle and all over the counter at this point) and coated the dark spots. After yet another hour, I washed and rinsed, it was all almost white. At least I wasn’t going to look like a 12 year old doing her own hair.

The kit I used was by Garnier, which is not unusual. I’ve used their products before. I still turn in surprise every time I pass a mirror because it is so light. I’m still getting used to it. It doesn’t look bad, but I don’t think it’s very flattering for my skin. There's a joke floating around that I have Viking genes. It's entirely untrue (that there is prime Dutch and German stock!), but now it looks even more like I do. I also have a much needed meet up with some hot jasmine oil in the near future, because my hair is doing an amazing impression of very dry straw, and not just the parts that got dyed twice, all of it. So now I have hair breaking off as well as falling out. Ugh. I am so tempted just to shave it all down to about 2 inches and start over again.

Here’s what it looks like. Please don't mind the craziness and sticking out random directions - it does that all the time.

Becky

Finding my Style at 30

Mood: It’s hot outside. Dutch people don’t like excess heat.

Listening to: 9XM music videos. I think Bol Bachchan may be my new favorite song. I can’t get it out of my head anyhow.

A while back I read somewhere that people generally are at their best dressed when they are in their 30’s.  It was like a light bulb snapped on in my head. You see, I thought it was just me that took until she turned 30 to develop any kind of stylishness at all.

My teen aged years were spent in large t shirts and baggy jeans due to some over protective parents and a lack of comfort with my own body.

My early 20’s were spent in a Subway uniform, a diner apron, and later maternity clothes. I worked way 

too much to ever invest in clothes and didn’t have the money to anyway.

My mid-late 20’s were spent in homage to Guns in Roses. Black GNR tees and baggy jeans (again with the body confidence that just was not there).

I have never been one to use color in clothing (hello black, tan, and jean), be comfortable with fitted clothes, and never considered myself to be stylish at all.

Last year, I started not being so afraid of color and branched out a bit. To be sure, my beloved tee shirts and jeans were still very much in rotation, but after Daddy G complained that he sometimes wondered if he married a boy, I knew it was time for a change. Skirts made an appearance. Lower cut and tighter (nothing scandalous, just fitted) shirts started making appearances too.

After moving to India, Daddy G pushed me to expand even more. Obviously, anything low cut was left in the states, but my wardrobe no longer consists of only black band tees, even though I admit they are still my favorite.  Brightly colored tunics and jewel toned skirts are now worn on a regular basis.

I’m glad I’ve hit my stride, even if it has taken me until I turned 30 to find it. Hopefully, after losing some weight, shopping will be a bit more fun too. As lame as it is, I do find myself liking who I am as I get older. 

Hopefully it just keeps getting better.

When did you find your style? Have you always had it or was it something you had to develop?

Becky

On Excellent Writing and Hoarding Behavior

Mood: It’s hot outside. Dutch people don’t like excess heat.

Listening to: 9XM music videos.

Today looks like a great day to spend writing. As with other things in life, it looks like I’m a binge writer too.  Cie La Vie people.

As I’ve mentioned, I like reading blogs as well as writing them. I have 168 feeds in my outlook that I keep up with religiously. See, the problem here is, there are just too many talented, funny people that I really enjoy reading. A further problem, is that I keep finding more funny and more people I really admire and want to read. This recent active foray into the blogging community has been so amazing, I can’t believe I didn’ t do it earlier. I’ve been blogging since 2004/5 ish on my own, but it was always and anonymous place to just post thoughts. I actually feel a part of a community now, and it is glorious.

So a big thank you to all of the bloggers that I follow regularly. You all have given me the inspiration to keep writing, even when writing is damn near impossible. I’d also like to throw a special thank you out there to Lady in Red, my first real two way interaction with a blogger online.  Without her, this experiment very well may have been shelved before it’s time.  I really appreciate your friendship.

If anyone has suggestions of excellent bloggers to read – I love hearing suggestions. This was one of the benefits I found of the Liebster awards that I so cynically blogged about a few months back. It allows you to pass on stuff you enjoy reading.  I have definitely followed up on all of those suggestions.

Becky

Twitter Pated

Hello Everybody,

My husband decided to make a game out of taunting me because I'm getting old and technology averse. So not true, but this ought to show you DaddyG. If you're into the twitter thing (and I'm still trying myself to understand all the hullabaloo), I'm on twitter now.  Check it out. I'm not sure how often I'll use it, but hey, let's give it a go. You can find me as Becky G or bloggingbroad. If anyone is knows how to find a link for people to check out on twitter - I'd appreciate a line. I apparently am to old and crotchety to figure that out.

Becky