And Then, There's Anita

She's a lovely woman I met through a ballroom dance weekend. She and Susan saved me on a sold-out weekend by inviting me to share their room. The woman (Barbara) who introduced me to them said, "You know Anita. She's a sexy bombshell." "No, I dunno Anita," I said. Well, anyway, I arrived later in the evening and both Susan and Anita were out of the room dancing somewhere. ????

I set up my bed, which was a pullout couch. But, it was the most ass fresco couch ever. The head of the couch was much lower than the feet. So that when I laid in it, my legs were way elevated, and all my blood pooled in my head. I opted to sleep with the couch closed the next day.

So, I've not seen any of my roommates until the next day between breakfast and lunch. Susan came in first. Then Anita. Anita breezed right in. She had a stunning size-two figure (with an busom!! (What a novelty, FOR ME!)), long, bright red hair. She was wearing short shorts, with some see-through veil over them, floating behind her, and a very skimpy top. Wow!!!! Do I even want to stand next to her??? Meanwhile, she was the nicest! She had guys drooling after her, asking her to dance constantly, etc., etc.

I liked her so much, that we arranged to room together on another dance weekend. This time she breezed in with another outrageous, and sexy outfit, straight from the car. Just to give you a little background on Anita, she's a dental hygenist, with two children, and is a widow. She tells me that normally she wears her hair up in a very smooth French twist and dresses very conservatively with her office whites (she could have fooled me!!!!) She says that if her co-workers, or her dentist's patients, ever saw her, they would not believe it. Her mother was watching her two boys. I asked her, "Did you leave the house in that outfit? Did your mother see you in this?" She said "no, I changed later." "You mean like in a phone booth, like Superman?" I said.

Although, on this second rooming event, I told her, "Anita, you know I love you dearly. But, I won't get any dances during lunch or dinner if we sit together." She said (in her slightly twangy accent (I forget where she originally comes from)), "Sure, that's alright." Well, I went to a different table during lunch (there is dancing going on during lunch and dinner) and sat with some duds (no, not dudes,..... duds). They didn't talk to me. They didn't know how to dance. They didn't want to risk dancing with a stranger. OLBAS!!!! (Look it up in my Glossary.) By the time the end of the lunch session was nearing, I went over to Anita's table (who was having a grand ole time, by the way) and confessed to her. "Anita, I am an absolute moron for not wanting to sit with you. Please forgive me for being so insensitive and stupid. May I join you after all?" Well, of course, being the lovely woman that she is, Anita told me I sure could. I'll take my chances at Anita's table. Even if I don't get asked to dance, I'll have fun vicariously while I sit with the Life of the Party. We had so much fun that weekend. And, at the end of the evenings, after dancing for a zillion hours, with our feet aching, and just about unable to walk because of the pain, we shared my after-dance ritual. That is, plunging our feet into ice cold water (sometimes with actual ice in it), in the bathroom sink, while sitting atop of the sink credenza, and trying not to scream too loudly at that hour of the night as we plunged them in (3am??....4am???) .

So later on day two, I noticed that the suede on the bottom of my dance shoes was separating. Well, here to the rescue is Anita. Anita is one of the most organized persons I know. Actually, I really think it might be a severe disorder-- when it's checking out time, Anita is always perfectly packed two hours before she needs to be; or from the night before. Well, guess what??? Anita has a glue gun. She fixes my shoe.

So, we each go our separate ways and meet up again later that day. She relays to me what happened to her. She ran into a group of guys (what a surprise??) and one of them had the same peeling-off-suede-from-the-shoe problem I had. Anita hears him speaking of it and says, "I have a glue gun. Why don'cha come to room 206 and I'll fix it for ya." So, off he trots to Anita's room, and while he waits, Anita fixes the shoe for him. Later that day Anita runs into him in the elevator again. This time he's with his wife and some of the other guys. Anita chimes out with "How'd you make out with your shoe??" He tells her the shoes are fine. As Anita leaves the elevator, she hears his wife say, "So THAT's the little old lady?" HA!!! So funny! Especially because of the outfit that Anita was wearing that day.

Well, I think Anita and I roomed together on one more occasion. I found that she was not only GORGEOUS, but she was very intelligent and soooooo nice. She brought me gifts too (very thoughtful). She brought me a small basin in which to soak my feet at the end of the evenings, rather than to sit up on the sink and struggle with my feet in the sink. And, as I gain more, and MORE weight, I donate some of my outfits to her (her weight never changes). This second time she had just had a blind date (put together, I believe, by her cousin). She seemed pretty interested in the guy and would make these calls on her cell phone and speak in sotto voce (you know the kind, when you don't want anyone else to hear, and you want to have the little flirty dating nonsense conversations?). She told me a little about him. He, too, was a widower, and a doctor. When I heard that he was a widower, I sort of got it in my head that he was the one for her. I have this preconceived notion that widowers always want to get remarried (it's just based on my limited experience of them). I told her my prediction. "You and Bruce are going to be married."

Anita and I never roomed together again, because Bruce and Anita were married in about one year from that time. I make sure to always blame Bruce for my loss of a great roommate, and I make little digs. But with Bruce, I have gained a wonderful new friend. I ADORE him. He is so sweet, kind, and seems to deal with my silly antics so well. He and Anita buy me presents. They got me a replacement carry-all bag that I used to always bring to the dance weekends, instead of a tiny pretty purse. It was this big old thing; a Guess bag with the dimensions of 20 inches by 16 inches, with a shoulder strap and long, long zipper at the top. People would make fun of me when they saw me with it. "What, are you moving?" All the other women had their conventional, very pretty little evening purses. But, I found I couldn't put everything I "might" ever need for that evening in those tiny purses (i.e. a second pair of shoes, an entirely different outfit for the evening, makeup, hair clips, anti-histamines to ward off the mildew in many of the rooms --you know......my second suitcase). When my wonderful Guess bag's zipper broke, they found me a replacement, with all these wonderful little pockets. Then, I made the comment that I was really wanting a sugar cookie, and guess what??? I found a sugar cookie, hidden in the replacement bag. Then one time, Anita called me at home to ask me what color my outfit was for the upcoming weekend. She made me earrings and a bracelet!!! Duh!!! How can that be? How can anyone be so rounded out? They really deserve one another.

Anita still wears her outrageous outfits. And after their marriage, Bruce began to learn to dance. And, Bruce is getting pretty outlandish himself. Actually, he's looking very HOT!!!

Love Them Both!!!!

Instant Response Gratification

Do you find that when you either call, or e-mail someone, you want an instant response? I go crazy when I don't get one. And, I usually don't. I assume that everyone else is like me and doesn't have a life. But, I guess that's not so. Or, else, they do have a life -- theirs. I never wait to reply to an e-mail, thereby playing "The Game." I just respond immediately. I am so not a game player. I'm direct and honest. Sometimes it can turn others off. I'm so very predictable. Hey, if you really want to know what I think of your actions, I'll tell you. So, if you really don't want to know, please don't ask me.

Although, I do find that my instant maniacal frenzied replies sometimes cause problems when plans are changed frequently. Then, I have to continually refer to my last response to see what the HELL it was that I might be participating in, and where it's taking place as of the current moment. It's a lot of extra work. Would be much easier if I could just lobotomize somewhere and wait for the scheduled date to come around, and then respond as of that moment as to whether I can attend.

Vikingro!!

Cell Phone Mania

No, I couldn't stop posting. I must get more of my intolerances out before quitting. After all, I've cancelled my shrink session for today.

• Did you ever walk down the street and have a person ask you a question? Well, it has happened to me many times. Then I answer, only to find out that they are speaking into their cells (via headphone -- what the hell do you call those things??).
• Or, you're on the bus and another passenger gets a call from his parolee and lights into him about how he's broken the rules by leaving the state prematurely?
  
• What about the people who speak so LOUDLY, plus set their cells so that you can hear what the other person is saying to them? There have been occasions when I've offered them the answer to their question, hoping they would get the picture. They did not!!
• Then there are the people who find it very important to shelter themselves from the weather conditions and situate themselves at the top of the subway stairs and stand there talking. No one can enter the stairway, nor exit. ??????
  
• There are also those who exhibit their feelings regarding their conversation with body movements (they either come to a dead stop, or converse with their hands and arms (thereby almost smacking you in the face)).
• Then there are the ones who fall asleep on the subway and don't wake up to their exceedingly annoying ring tones.
• What about when you're talking to one of them on their cell and they ask you to talk fast because they're going to lose you. It takes you five additional calls to just finish your one sentence.
• Or, you're speaking to them and they ask you to hold because they have an important call they must take. So, obviously, you're a piece of crap, because you're the one they choose to have wait. Sometimes they leave you waiting 5-10 minutes. Other times, they completely forget that they were speaking to you and never return to the conversation.
  
• Now why in the world do cell phone holders have to have call-waiting on their service. For that matter, why does anyone? Is it a way of not missing anything at all in their (possibly miserable) lives???
• And, for those of us who do not want to succumb to cell phones.....what does the community offer us? A minuscule amount of public phone booths that are so disgustingly dirty, or broken, that you wouldn't want to call anyone ever.
  

Well, thanks for listening. I'm definitely feeling better now. Going to refuel now. I'll tune in with my next intolerance, or insane aberration.

Eeeeooogh!!!

Have you ever been rushing to get to the subway or bus, or whatever (I always am), and come up against very slow-moving, lard asses in front of you? Oh, yes, they haven't a care in the world. Nor do they have JOBS!!!!! You progress as far as you can before coming up right behind them and being forced to come to a complete stop (are they even moving??). You're anxious to get where you're going, so you step to the left in hopes of passing them. They too step to the left and then stop. What is this, sabotage?????? You then try stepping back to right, but now another decides to stop alongside his imobile friend. There's nothing to do except to excuse yourself and try to get past them. At which point they say, "Uh! oh! Sorry!" They say that if you're lucky. Otherwise, they continue to be clueless, or worse yet, insult you as the unreasonable one. Eayaaaaah!!!!!