12.22.14 Dailies

MONDAY

I had a taste for Buddy's Pizza the other night. A spinach-tomato-onion pizza. Buddy's is in a more dangerous part of Detroit - city busses don't even stop there. But Buddy's Pizza is worth a bullet wound or two.

There was a flyer about a local missing woman on the counter. I scanned it and grabbed my heart because it felt like it had left my body. By the time the waitress came back with my pizza, I was already crying like a baby. She handed me the pizza and simply said, "I know. She's been missing since Monday."  I probably looked like some crazy person sobbing all the way home. What this poor woman...and her family!...must be going through. I just can't. My poor Aussie friend had to suffer through my sobbing rant for hours. A selfless act, considering my trust level with would-be friends these days.

Note the bags, the dark circles,
and the general lack of grooming.

I didn't sleep that night. And very little since that night. I called the number on the flyer and spoke with Henrietta's daughter. She's creating a FB page for volunteers looking to help. I posted the flyer to bulletin boards at work and forwarded a copy to local FB friends to share. Her daughter allowed me to bring them dinner for the family yesterday. (I couldn't think of how else I can help, but hopefully this is one less small chore for them to worry about.)  I also gave them a gas station card for all the leads she's hopefully receiving. It's hard to ask to help without sounding too stalker-ish.  We HAVE to find Henrietta soon, or I'll never sleep again.

CBS

WXYZ/ABC

TUESDAY

I realize that a traumatic event can change a person's perspective on different aspects of their life. For instance, a car accident can make a person overly cautious about driving in traffic. For me, my recent incident left me numb. I did really stupid stuff, like walking into traffic before looking. That morphed into a sort of hyper-aware state. In casual environments, I immediately head for a corner in the room. I watch hands, acute movements, noises. Everyone is taller/stronger than me.  I feel unprotected. Even with a gang of homies with me.

Aaand we're rambling.

The one that won't go away.

Where I was going was...do you think it's possible for a life event to change a person's sense of fashion?  Yep, no transition there. I just went from Psych 101 to Self Magazine in 0.2 seconds.

So I'm sitting at the kitchen table with my coffee, wondering what to blog about today, and I realize that I'm buying a lot of red (or "whores' color" according to my father). Without thinking, I choose red. I'm also suddenly fascinated with corsets, and retro pin-up fashion. Which is sort of hilarious because pin-up is designed for women with curves. Like this. Sigh.

Fave new obsession - Pin Up Girl Clothing

WEDNESDAY

A coworker sent the whole damn company a YouTube video with the subject line: "Witness the Power of God". And then she wandered around all day blathering on about how "the spirit of God was really with those people". It was only a matter of time before she got to my desk.  I'm a little busy, woman.
 

 

Wrap dress for
employee party.
(Inspiration)
 

If you're a scientist, you'll say that there simply wasn't enough moisture and warmth in the air to keep the tornado going.

 

If you're a religious person,  you'll say that this was the act of a God answering the prayers of His faithful flock.  

If you're like me, you're thinking, "Soooo....someone had a video camera, but no one had a car? Bus? Mule? Nothing?"

This post isn't really about what you or I believe happened here. But what we do when our opinion strongly opposes the opinions of others. I so want to have a rational debate with her. Maybe give her a reasonable alternative for the tornado's dissipation. But engaging a fanatic in a discussion that questions her beliefs could be a really bad idea.

Have you ever strongly opposed someone's beliefs but kept quiet, even if keeping it in made you sick to your stomach?

THURSDAY

Things I am forced to endure on this day.



Don't ask.

I've locked myself in the den. No, really. I moved the vanity halfway in front of the door. Zombie apocolypse-style, yo. Watching Pride and Prejudice. Again. This movie is by far the only non-syfy flick worth your time.

 

Although it is its own kind of sci-fi in that it offers an unrealistic, alien/not human portrayal of reality. A stuffy attractive man is drawn to a lower class opinionated woman despite his birthright and her crazy mother and can't stop watching her even when more appropriate women are in the room and comes to her rescue a million times and patiently waits for her to notice him turns out to be a real person? Sigh. 

Why can't Mr. Darcy be real?

I need more tea.

FRIDAY

Just walked in to total mayhem at my house. It's 2am, for pete's sake!

 

Who is Pete?

 

I wore my new corset over some jeans and a lace top and a pair of wedge boots, but now I can't get the damned thing off. The prong thingies are like wedged into my skin.

 

Is there some remedial medieval torture device class I missed?

 

Henrietta is still missing. Police searches with K9 units, volunteer searches and still nothing. I spoke with her daughter today, and asked her to please keep my number for anything I can do to help. She seems overwhelmed by everyone's concern. She's received calls and assistance from as far as Quebec, Canada.

 

My mother grows shadier every day. Some Japanese pharmacologist(?)...I don't even know what "farm-a-cologist" means...is visiting the states tomorrow.  Now, my mother is smart. She timed it so that FarmDude would visit while my family is here.  The insane asylum that is my house would distract me enough to not be annoyed with him, every bedroom is taken, and there's no chance of us doing anything improper (hilarious).

Seriously. I can't move.

 

I see what she did there.

 

Well, two things, Maasa: 1st, FarmDude likes Star Wars, not Star Trek. For the millionth time, they're completely separate.  Sigh. 2nd (also for the millionth time), I can't understand a word he's saying.

 

Why am I writing this? My mother never reads my blog anymore. And her timing couldn't be worse. I can't fathom entertaining a random strange man atm.

 

So I'm taking myself out on a date tomorrow. Ice skating, then brunch & unltd mimosas, then to see The Interview. We tried to see it earlier tonight, but the line was quite literally a block long.

 

I hope FarmDude likes burping babies and stepping on grapes and watching TV with the volume on full blast because he can't hear over all the racket.  I'm outtie!