7/28/05

This is my friend Nance. I’ve known Nance for years – three? four? something like that? maybe even longer – and I consider her a good friend. And in the entire time I’ve known her, she’s been the biggest advocate for peoples’ privacy you’ll ever know. There have been times where she’s realized she can figure out where someone works, and she WARNS them, because she’s worried about them. She doesn’t want someone to invade their privacy, worries that some psycho might track them down and cause them harm. She’ll stir shit if she thinks the shit needs stirring, but she will do it straightforwardly and not in some clandestine cloak-and-dagger way that involves cutting and pasting and anonymous email accounts. She’s honest. Honest to a fault, maybe. She and Fred are the two people I would never pose the question “Do these pants make my ass look fat?”, because I’d get the truth. She might try to sugar-coat it a little, but she’d tell it to me straight. NO ONE EVER WANTS A STRAIGHT ANSWER TO THAT QUESTION, NANCE. If I ask Nance a question, I know I’ll get a truthful answer. I know I can count on that. But I didn’t ask her “Nance, did you do this?”, because I already knew in my heart she didn’t. She couldn’t. Anyone who truly knows her, knows that. Because underneath it all, she’s got a heart the size of Texas and it shines through whether she wants it to or not. I’ve been accused in the past of things I didn’t do, and when I said that I hadn’t done what I was accused of, the accusers didn’t believe me. And that’s incredibly frustrating. I can only imagine Nance’s frustration right now. So go give her some love; I think she could use some extra love right about now. And tell her that her brand-spankin’-new design kicks ass. I’m no longer a WordGoddess; I asked to be removed from the group because the way this was handled left a bad taste in my mouth. But I know how much y’all love the “Day in the Life” entries, so I’ll see if I can’t whip one out occasionally, mm’kay? YOU’RE WELCOME.

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Written on July 22, 2005. Q: What sucks more than being fat and sweaty? A: Being fat and sweaty and on the rag.
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Dsc06461 You don’t impress him much. A soupcon of The War of the Roses + Prizzi’s Honor + a dash of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid = Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Not a bad movie, though it seemed to bother Brian that Brad Pitt would hit a girl, which is funny, because I read that verysame sentiment online somewhere on someone’s blog – I can’t remember where – and I thought it was funny that with all the violence in that movie, that particular piece of it would bother people (men, I should say) so much. I guess that whole “You don’t hit girls” is strongly ingrained in some boys and men. Too bad it’s not so strongly ingrained in all of them. Though to be fair, I don’t think it’s right that a woman can hit a man to her heart’s content and people are only horrified when the man lashes back. Besides, she was trying to KILL HIM; I think the usual moral values kind of go out the window in that case. Damn, they are a pretty, pretty pair. Dsc06464 So, here’s the story. We got up this morning with the idea that the spud and my mother would make whoopie pies. My mother has a recipe for whoopie pies – or, actually, the cookbook calls them whoopsie pies and she’s been saying all week that she and the spud were going to make a batch, because they were so much better than the store-bought whoopie pies. They finally got around to starting them a little before 11:00. Dsc06470 Why yes, I DO have chubby little sausage fingers. I picked a lovely pink color for my polish, and managed to smudge one of my nails in less than half an hour, because I haven�t worn nail polish in fifteen years, and I had forgotten that even though it feels dry, you need to give it a few hours before it can withstand digging through your purse to find your phone. Dsc06477 Dsc06473 Dsc06472 So we came home and hung around the house, and ate lobster for dinner, then left a little before 7 to drive through a monsoon to the movie theater. Debbie and Brian were meeting us there, but Debbie got soaked when she went to go in the theater and got pissed off and went home because she couldn’t stand the thought of sitting in a theater in wet clothes for two hours (EXCEPT THAT I THINK WE ALL KNEW YOU WERE JUST MAKING AN EXCUSE TO GO HOME AND PLAY ON YOUR NEWLY DSL’D COMPUTER, MISSY). When we got in the theater, the line was extremely long and I was worried that the movie was going to be sold out, so as I stood in line I scanned the list of movies, trying to figure out what movie we could see instead if we had to, because I was DAMNED if we were going to go home after driving from Lisbon Falls to Brunswick twice in one day to see the damn movie. But the movie wasn’t sold out at all, in fact the theater was only about half full, so all was good. I had my twizzlers and m&ms to keep my mouth occupied, and the pretty, pretty stars of the movie to keep my mind occupied, so it was a pretty damn good evening. I don’t think I mentioned yesterday, did I? Yesterday we went to Kittery, and I shopped my ASS off. I’d been doing pretty well with the shopping this trip, but all that went by the wayside when we hit Kittery. I basically stampeded through Kittery, grabbing things left and right and throwing money all over the place. My favorite acquisitions? A stone gray cat that is actually cat-sized, which I’m going to either put on the front porch or in the front flower bed (or, hm� maybe in front of the fireplace!), and a set of yellow melamine mixing bowls. Yellow sure does make me happy. We left the house at 10:00 yesterday, and didn’t get home until after 9:00. And the day just FLEW by; I have no idea how the time passed so quickly. I think we may have entered a black hole or something. All I know is that we got there at 11:00, did some shopping, and the next thing I knew, it was 2:00 and we were eating lunch at Bo�sun�s Landing (excellent food), and then I blinked and it was 6:00 and we were in the Kittery Trading Post discussing whether my mother should get a shirt for Fred, and then I blinked again and it was after 8:00, and we’d stopped in South Portland on the way home so Debbie and I could run into Macy’s to buy a set of melamine mixing bowls (yes, in addition to the yellow ones I’d bought earlier in the day, shaddup), and then time stretched and my mother went into Macy’s to look for some pants and then into Filene’s, and Debbie was dragging me into the mall to go to Victoria’s Secret (and, hi. If there’s anything less comfortable than being a fat chick in Victoria’s Secret, where the saleschicks give you perfectly sweet smiles that mask the horrified ‘She is NOT OUR PEOPLE. She is FAT. How can we get her OUT of here?’ thoughts that are whirling in their heads, I don’t know what is.) so she could buy some shampoo, and then we were all sitting in the car waiting for Debbie to come out of Macy’s (where she’d gone on a bathroom run, and even though I had to pee I had not the energy to pull down my sweaty pants and deal with tampon issues so I decided to wait until we got home, so I could use the bathroom without worrying that some woman standing in line would be peering through the crack in the stall door and thinking ‘Why is her foot on the stall door, and WHAT THE HELL IS SHE DOING, OH HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, MY EYES! MY EYES!’) and my mother to come out of Filene’s, and then the earth and some planet aligned, and my mother came out of Filene’s in a somewhat timely manner, and we got home. And my feet are still killing me. Two more days ’til I leave for home! I’m looking forward to being home, but I’m also having a good time this go-round, so I’ll be sad to leave. What was I saying? Oh, right. I have a goddamn five-hour layover in Dulles on Monday, and I don’t believe I could be less thrilled if I knew they were going to be pulling my nails out one-by-one and performing an anal probe during my stay in Helles Dulles. And before you even suggest it (because suggesting it would be a little strange, since you won’t be reading this until I’ve arrived home and uploaded entries, so keep that in mind Suggesty McHelpfulPants, mm’kay?), NO I�m not going to go sight-seeing, because I’ll be hauling this goddamn monster of a laptop around with me, and Washington, DC is hot and fucking steamy in the summer and if there’s anything that sucks more than being hot and sweaty, I don’t want to know about it. Oh wait – being hot and sweaty and on the rag. I almost forgot! My thought at this moment is that I�m going to borrow some DVDs from Debbie, find a deserted area of the Independence Air terminal, plug in the laptop, and watch some movies until it’s time to board. I mean, that’s the plan if throwing myself on the mercy of the Independence Air ticket clerk doesn’t work. There’s an earlier flight from Dulles to Huntsville than the one we�re on, but changing our tickets at this point would cost more than $100 apiece; maybe if the earlier flight isn’t packed they’ll do it for me without costing me an arm and a leg, but to be honest I’m not all that hopeful. I guess I know now why our tickets were so cheap, eh?
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40 thoughts on “7/28/05”

  1. You know, now I’m kind of sorry that I left WG months ago. ONLY because if I had been around, I’m sure that there would be no way that Nance would have been accused of all of this. I would have been the likely scapegoat. Bwhahah.
    I’m sorry this has affected y’all so much. Sending love.

  2. Dulles is definitely not the most fun airport to go to. And, it’s pretty much no where near DC (in that “we’re near dc, let’s go sightseeing” kind of way).
    Glad you are back safely.

  3. Am I the only one that really wants the recipe for those whoopie pies?! They look divine. Could you ask the spud for the recipe? I wouldn’t want you to call your mother.

  4. Not to sound like a butt-munch, but I am so glad I wasn’t the only one who had issues with my air travels to New England. We were on US Airways.

  5. I know what you mean about yellow making you happy. Only for me it’s lime green. I will buy nearly anything if it’s lime green.

  6. You crack me up like no other! Tampons, sweat, public restrooms, planets aligning, Daughter McFatty (Hi! It’s me!). Thanks, it’s like you have read my mind at some point in my life. Thanks Robyn.

  7. Jolene: I’m surprised you weren’t accused anyway. 😉
    Ruthie: Oddly, I actually have the cookbook with that recipe in it, and had no idea. I’ll try to get it typed up and posted in the next day or so. 🙂

  8. Yes, you are indeed a loyal friend. Very cool. I don’t even know Nance, and I totally believe she’s innocent.
    “Suggesty McHelpfulPants”??? AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!! (love it)

  9. I just get the feeling that I’ve missed a whole big bunch o’ stuff. Drama? What? Where? Huh. I got the original email from Heather, went, “Oh?” and then deleted it and went on with my day. Now I wonder if there’s been crap going on behind the scenes the whole time and I never knew. ;-^

  10. Can I say I’m not that surprised (re: WG drama)? Some things never change. I totally believe Nance is being railroaded. You’re a good friend to stick up for her. Bravo!

  11. Sorry that you are no longer on WG I loved to read your entries. You have a talent for writing. I enjoy reading your journal each day.

  12. So unfair what happened to Nance. It’s just bullshit. But I LOVE what you and Jane wrote in your journals about it. WG = dumbass

  13. Robyn? Why are you torturing me with pictures of whoopie pies? They don’t have them down here in this godforsaken excuse for a state, damn it. Now I’m craving them. Thank you so very much.

  14. If you lived in Pennsylvania, you would call that delicious dessert – Gobs. Also, I’ve been reading Nance’s journal for several years now, and I agree with you, she is brutally (but always hillariously) honest. She would never do what she’s been accused of. Is hillariously a word?

  15. I still can’t believe there are place in this country where they don’t sell whoopie pies!!! Talk about horrid. Labree’s Whoopie pies have always been my favorite (the main bakery was less than a mile from my house when I was growing up) but THOSE ones look even better! Y’know they have ones with peanut butter frosting in the middle? YUM!
    Anyways, You were right Robyn! nuice and sunny and cool here today! No Humidity and I think I’ll actually be able to use my oven tonight.
    And I think I need that saying on a shirt.. “I used to go skinny-dipping, Now I can only go chunky-dunking”
    *babble babble* 🙂

  16. Next time you need to put a food porn warning prior to an entry like this. I don’t think I can take pics of those pies and lobster in the same entry! Yes I want that recipe too!

  17. Hi Robyn.
    Thank you for the Maine postcard.
    Fred hasn’t updated his journal for a loooong time. What’s up w/him??

  18. Oh my god, that lobster and corn on the cob is making my mouth water!!! Too bad lobster is so freaking expensive on this coast. Sorry that nastiness is happening with your friend and her blog group. Stuff like that is always disconcerting and it really sucks that the people accusing her couldn’t at least come out and say what they thought she did.

  19. You ate totally right- LAWD is it hot in DC this time of the year. I once made the mistake of taking a day trip up there when I lived in Virginia and we positively broiled all day as we walked along the Mall.

  20. Nance and Jane call you the “nice” one, guess you showed them you can smack down with the rest of them (of course we knew you could).
    And I am a little TOO excited to have the Whoopie Pie recipe. After 2 years of reading and salivating I finally get to try them.
    Oh, was your Mom’s as good as the “real” thing?

  21. Kay: Yeah, I’d say the home-made whoopie pies were about as good as the store-bought (or bakery-made, anyway) whoopie pies. The “cookie” part wasn’t as dense as the whoopie pies you get from the store, and the middle wasn’t as… frostingy. More of a light, whipped center, whereas the store-bought whoopie pies are more similar to cake frosting. But all in all, they were damn fine. 🙂

  22. Those whoopie pies look awesome – but what ARE they? Cake and whipped cream? Cake and marshmallow? I’m a Midwesterner, I dun know shit.

  23. Kelly: the chocolate part is a cakey/ cookie thing, and the filling is kind of frosting-y, but fluffier than frosting. Yum-may!

  24. I NEED those whoopies pies but I will settle for the recipe please!! I had one last summer when we visited Gettysburg but there are none here in the state of Florida.

  25. I’m so sorry that your friend is having to deal with such juniorhighishness (totally a word, indeed!). Glad you are backing her up, though.
    Suggesty McHelpfulPants? A distant relative of Spongebob, perhaps? I had to LOL when I read that!
    Also – what IS up with Fred and his lack of journal updatingness??? I totally want to buy you both on eBay and bring you to my house so I can LOL every minute of every day. Y’all seem like some fun people. And we can also sit around and read and discuss books…and movies…and kittens…and I can wow you with my mad eating and sitting on my butt skillz…
    I’m going to stalker jail, aren’t I? *sigh*

  26. Dude, I’ll always let everybody know when their pants make their ass look fat. Even if they don’t ask! Heh.
    Thanks for making me realize that there still are decent people on the Internet.

  27. I forgot – yes, Sue – they are definitely called Gobs in Pennsylvania.
    And Robyn – why in the hell would you want to eat something that had to have it’s claws taped so it wouldn’t lunge at your face and rip out an eye? Yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
    They live in their own toilets, ya know.

  28. Debra – You know, I don’t know. Something about being in Maine makes me just FEEL fatter for some reason. Maybe part of it is the eatin’, and the other part is the self-consciousness of being around my mother!
    I don’t know why Fred hasn’t updated lately, y’all. I guess he just hasn’t felt the need to write! He’s fine, though, and I’m sure he’ll get around to it one of these days.
    Nance: Living in their own toilets is what makes ’em so damn good, didn’t you know that? 😛

  29. you forgot to add the coupe-de-gras to the string:
    hot and sweaty and on the rag AND FAT!it’s been 100 degrees, and i weigh 300 lbs. so that what, 3 lbs. per degree?
    i can’t wait to see the recipe for the whoopee pies. they look like the homemade oreos that my stepsister makes- it takes a devil’s food cake mix, cream cheese and cool-whip among other things.
    wait, maybe this is why i’m fat!

  30. Robyn, Whatever happened to the little boy (with the rare brain problem) from Muskogee, Ok.? Is the little guy still hanging in there or what?

  31. Okay, so I asked my husband–the computer guru, former network admin, and current computer/network security expert. Nance’s IP address on the page means very little. There are ways to access a page without leaving your IP address–depending on how the server logs the information. Also, if one member left the password available (maybe written down or on their computer), anyone could have gotten in and sent the emails. And there are always viruses and programs that can be used to hack into a person’s computer and use it to do things, which of course probably isn’t the case here.
    Depending on how the information is logged on the host server or how this woman is looking at her visitor IP addresses, it could even be an anonymizer (of course he was skeptical of that one).
    Just my 2 cents. IP addresses on a page prove squat.

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