I Just Wanna Hear Girls Talk

Thank you, ladies, for all the encouragement.  Nice to see comments always.  Your rich reward is a photo of me.  I spent a couple hours tonight uploading and cropping and color correcting three meetings' worth of pics.  Some even please me.  This shows you my summer look, with my short black bob.  This is from July, the first time wearing it.  Feel free to Photoshop me into the cover of Band on the Run.

I had to attend the wedding of an obscure cousin last Saturday.  I have spoken to her perhaps three times in twenty-plus years.  Now, we all know the effect of going to a wedding in drab.  I was terribly worried about my ability to withstand the envy I would be feeling.  It turned out okay, though.  My favorite aunt was in from Washington, D.C., and I spent a lot of time talking with her.  I spoke extensively about battling social anxiety, and how without close family nearby, I would have been paralyzed.

Aunt T confided at one point that she had been on the dance floor earlier, and felt her pantyhose sagging.  She made a conscious effort not to tug at her waist, knowing that the video would almost assuredly capture it, making for a fabulous laugh lasting generations.  I wanted to tell her that my pantyhose were staying up just fine, but the opportunity to share never presented itself.

In addition, she and I and my mother had a lengthy discussion about bridesmaid dresses.  T told us about a hideous dress she wore for her best friend's wedding, and my mom shared that she never got to be a bridesmaid, as her best friend eloped with no notice.  That sort of girl talk helped keep me at ease.

We learned Sunday that we are going to be hosting my wife's family for Thanksgiving this Thursday.  To say that we don't need this "privilege" right now is an understatement.  It will be a late afternoon meal, hot on the heels of my family's noon meal. 

My family will be serving turkey and ham, corn pudding, potatoes au gratin, scalloped pineapple (wonderful!), and we will be bringing an almond poundcake that is to die for.  My wife's family will be eating a vegetarian meal, including sweet potatoes (ick), and the very special meatless loaf.  It will be grand.

I'm sure I will have something to report after the events, but we have major housecleaning to do before that happens.  No french maid options available to me either.  *sigh*

Hint Taken

Rumors of this blog's death are mildly exaggerated.  I had not realized just how long it had been.  No promises this time around about writing regularly; I know better.  So, let's hit the high points of the last six(!) months.

I left off talking about hair.  I have worn Vanessa's short, black wig to all my meetings since June.  I have quite a few pics, but just as this blog has lain fallow, so has my Flickr.  I need to upload images and color correct them before I thrust them on an unsuspecting tiny audience.  I love you ladies too much to inflict that kind of pain for my own vanity.  They will appear soon, she promised.

I have not been to a meeting since September, due to my boy's band tournaments.  They placed second in the state, btw.  The upshot of that has been the absence of any dressing opportunities in the interim.  That, my friends, is a major bummer.  I have been distracting myself with Rock Band (made a new character named Bethany Peachfuz), and a lot of Netflix (mostly Walking Dead). 

My boy now sleeps in a crudely modified corner of our basement, as my mother-in-law moved into his bedroom in early September.  Quite an adjustment, as you can imagine.  She plays her TV very loudly at all hours, has an ancient cat that likes to pee outside the litter box, and came with a beastly old Corgi that smells like sour milk on his best days.  Strangely, I've come to like my MIL more than I had before.  Very flawed, but she is grateful to us, and can be funny and charming. 

Still, the stress of the preparing the house for her, and bringing her into the already crowded fold, was very stressful for me.  Some time in July, I started taking the hair off my legs in the shower.  The missus did not mention it, but I talked about it at our next counseling session.  She had, of course, noticed, but she did not,and has not, complained about it.  I think she understands the sacrifice I have made in welcoming her mother.  Major husband points for me!  I now shave my legs in the shower everyday, and I do not intend to return to the land of the hirsute gams ever again.  That concession to my stress has gotten me through all this.  Well, that, and doubling down on the underdressing. 

Thanks to Calie and Rhiannon for pulling me back onto the writing bandwagon.  I needed a swift kick in the ass.  Pics soon!

Love you all,
Leslie