Just so there aren't that many days between posts...

Imaneed to do my New Year's Resolution list, too. I'm so original.

1. Eat more pizza.
2. Have more sex.
3. Take more naps.
4. Take more vacations.
5. Talk to Bitchcakes on the phone more.
6. Go see Bitchcakes in person, before Christel moves to TX.
7. Go see Lipstick Laura (and SEVEN!) in New Orleans.
8. Go see Matt in Seattle. Take John with me.
9. Never date "Ted".
10. Have more sex.

More as warranted.

Merry Christmas

My Christmas card to you is a simple one, and it's not even original.

I had a great discussion this week with someone I thought I had lost from my life forever. Turns out, I hadn't, and we'll be renewing a very valuable and precious friendship -- we've known each other for 21 years. In fact, he was the officiating minister at my (first) wedding, as I married one of his closest childhood friends.

John, my re-found friend, is absoluely famous for asking the important questions in a very straightforward way. The question was prompted by the fact that we were having a really emotional evening anyway, complete with tears -- almost all of them joy-induced -- and I mentioned that December 31 would have been my 10th anniversary. So, we talked some about my former husband. And he asked, "What do you want for Mark?"

My first and instinctive answer was, "Consciousness."

He cracked me up by saying, "That would be a good start."

Then I told him that I have pretty much the same desire for all the people in my life. (Even those to which I was once married, and had consequently once wished might be hit by a bus.)

Which leads me to your Christmas card.

I wish for you a deep and abiding knowledge of the amazing extent to which you are a wonderfully and perfectly created, profoundly adored, stunningly beautiful person with infinite worth. I honestly pray that every interaction I have with you is one that will help you to understand how STELLAR you really are.

Before you go and think I'm altruistic or something, I readily confess that this desire, and my participation, however minor, in your life, is also quite selfish. Here is why: Because I LONG to make a significant contribution in the world, and I truly believe that the only way I can do so is to reach inside the life of another person -- an eternal soul -- and give something, I'm participating for my benefit, too. I get to fulfill my deep desire to touch the forever.

Thank you so much for letting me know you. Merry Christmas.

Happy Birthday!

To my two newest nephews: Simon and Jude.

The boys were born yesterday at 8:00 a.m., in Ft. Wayne, Indiana. Mommy (my best friend) and Daddy (her wonderful spousal-unit) are doing great, as are big brother Jacob and big sissy Chloe. The boys are absolutely beautiful, as are all the previous babies from that family; they make pretty ones over there.

Just call me Aunt Tasty. The other kids do, already, and Jude and Simon will be joining them shortly.

An Epiphany, Something Totally Inappropriate, and One Thing That Bugs Me

So, for the most part, I've been doing really, really great. Much better post-divorce than I had imagined I might be doing. I do not regret my decision at all. In fact, everything confirms my decision all the time, so I'm quite happy with my "new normal" mode: coming home to a place I adore living, far less stress, no one at my house being the epicenter of negativity, "Single Stacey" (not to be confused with "Skinny Stacey" as she's still a myth.) It's all pretty damn OK!

Naturally, this is life we're talking about here, there are moments of absolute SUCK. These moments usually occur when I allow the word "should" to sneak into my thoughts. For example, if I let myself think, "I really should have a baby by now," I tend to be awfully damned sad. Let me 'splain (especially for the benefit of my dadness): I most definitely do not want to be pregnant or to have a baby right now. However, had my first marriage gone the way I had so so so desired, I would have one or two and be celebrating my 10th anniversary on New Year's Eve, and that can make me real freekin' sad. Thankfully, these episodes of absolute SUCK only last for a few minutes or hours at a time, and I'm able to remind myself that I'm young and healthy, and that the universe is an ordered, purposeful place. [NB: If you do not believe that the universe is an ordered, purposeful place, that is your business. Someone has to be wrong.]

In any case, I'm finally getting to the epiphany part:

I am currently experiencing some emotions that can best be described as terribly inconvenient. Concerning males of the species: I hope they die. Also, I would really like one of them to be my genuinely good friend, hug me often, and pet my hair. Can anyone say, "therapy"?

That was the epiphany part.

Now, on to the inappropriate part!

So I'm on the phone with a good friend of mine yesterday who has recently started seeing a man she really likes. Consequently, they are sharing congress of the most intimate adult kind, and she was explaining the method of pregnancy-prevention that she is using -- the hormone shot thingy which is 99.8+% effective). Anyway, the shot is making her crazy, so she has to take some drugs to counteract the shot, making the method only 95% effective. When the doc tells her that, she asks what he recommends to assist with that pesky 5% window.

The doctor commences explaining back up birth control methods, and, unfortunately for my friend, but fortunately for this story, he starts with a method called, "the sponge." Well, my poor, darlin' friend, who may well be one of the five funniest people in history, says, "Stacey, I just immediately started thinking 'Whhhoooooooooooooooooooo lives in a pineapple under the sea?!!'" [Note: In case you didn't know, it's SPONGE-BOB-SQUARE-PANTS.] After we both laugh real hard for a couple of minutes, and sing the song a couple of times, she comes back with this version, which does, in actual fact, make me SNORT. Ready? 'Cause this is the super inappropriate part: "Whhhhooooooooooooooo lives in a biscuit under my dress??!?!?" BWAHAHAHA! Ohmydamn, I cried laughing. That's so many kinds of wrong, and I love it.

Alright, here's the thing that bugs me. It's not that major, it's just something that I really dislike. You know when something good happens to you, and you tell someone else about it and they say, "It must be nice"? Yeah, I really hate that. See, as a matter of fact, it IS nice, dammit, and if you were my friend, you'd never say that. You'd be happy for me, you freakshow. I don't try to steal joy from you when something nice happens in your life, now DO I??? Um, no. I don't. So, how about you have a generous heart and quit saying that petty 'it must be nice' thing.

Wow, that was quite a little tirade. I must really hate that a lot!

OK, so let's go back to the "whooooooooooo lives in a biscuit under my dress???!!!!"

Have a great day!

If you've been paying attention, you'll love this.

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Stuff Your Best Friends Say to You

I'm unbelievably blessed with some of the best friends on this entire planet. You know how you sometimes sit around and say "Oh, I'd love to be Oprah -- all that success and all that money!" Or maybe, "I'd love to be Tyra Banks -- that BODY!" But I don't want to be ANYONE but me, and I mean that with every bit of my heart. If I were anyone else, I wouldn't have the friends I have now and I'd never, ever want to live without them. Allie, Lola, Christel, Dande, Pears, and Beth, I mean you in particular.

This week each of you has said something particularly meaningful and/or supportive in a way that only a sister can.

Allie, when we chatted the other day, interspersed with all the fun we usually have (every single day!), and I told you I was probably mad at myself? Remember? You said, "Let's pick someone else." I love that -- what better thing was there to say? No.thing. Not one thing.

Lola, you said, right here on this blog, "just don't get any ideas that it's okay to move 3000 miles away from me, or anywhere other than closer to me. it won't work. i'll follow you." That's love, people. Really.

Christel, if it weren't for the Pirin Tablets, I don't think I could go on. Your presence is absolute LIGHT and I can't wait to hang out with you again in person. Just being on the phone with you is an experience in energy and you make me snort. Let the making out commence.

Dande, how do I love thee? I can't count the ways because my math skills are simply not that advanced. You are strong and brilliant and way damn funnier than I am, which pisses me off in the best possible way. You asked me if I was bummed about something that's really pretty trivial, and you meant it so sincerely, when I know that Santa has unloaded a steaming pile of crap down your veryown personal chimney. And I appreciate your sincerity so very much.

Pears, you know what a great friend you are. And anyone who will stand still for 10 seconds in my presence knows, too. You laughed so hard when I told you about "I'm trying not to be a total loser" and my response to it ["HUH!"] that I knew you got it, 100%. I love that you totally understand.

Beth, there are literally no words for the love I have for you, sister. But this week, aside from carrying around the two entire humans you have in your tummy-area, you were also an awesome friend. When I told you about my crappy-ass day with Grimace and his multitudinous stories of the new 'ladyfriend' (yes, folks, he told me all about her,) you said, "He might want to just step back a moment and reflect upon the demise of his marriage." And you said it with the inflection that has made me laugh and feel better for the last 20 years of our lives. There is nothing better than a friend who knows how to hate who you hate and love who you love with NO prompting. I adore you.

See, and this is just ONE LITTLE WEEK in my life. I'm so glad I get to be me. And not Oprah.

Get Polled (And I think we all know just how painful that could be.)

What is the farthest you have ever traveled to be with someone you love? (Friend, family, lover, any category.)
	Less than 50 miles.
	More than 50, but less than 100 miles.
	More than 100, but less than 500 miles.
	More than 500, but less than 1000 miles.
	More 1000 miles, but less than 3000 miles.
	More than 3000 miles.
Free polls from Pollhost.com