where do all my hairbands go?

one thing holly always gets on my case about is hairbands. not that i use them, but that i’m constantly restocking them. it’s very irritating because what she doesn’t understand is that i can’t find any of them, ever.

i could seriously have like one million hairbands—yes one million—and i wouldn’t be able to find a single one. not a single one. that would happen to me. it would.

like small no-show socks that get eaten in the dryer (actually, i bet it’s the washer), it’s a complete mystery to me where in the hell my hairbands go. true, if i clean out my purse at any given moment, i may find, say…5 to 10, depending on the size of my purse. however i never ever find any of them when i need them, so i go without in the car when holly has the windows down on the highway and we arrive at our destination with me looking like bridget jones does in the first movie when she and hugh grant check in at that hotel. you know the scene.

why, no, i actually couldn’t find a hairband in the car. and yes, the windows were open. why do you ask?

i actually find it pretty annoying that holly complains when we’re walking in target and i covertly grab a pack (SHE ALWAYS SEES ME. THIS IS THE PROBLEM WITH HAVING A SPOUSE THAT IS ROUGHLY ONE-TWELFTH NATIVE AMERICAN. SHE HAS SUPERSONIC SENSES AND SEES AND HEARS *EVERYTHING*) and she sighs and says BABE MORE HAIRBANDS? and i’m like YES BABE. MORE HAIRBANDS. i don’t care if people stare because i’m shrieking in target. she has short hair. she’ll never understand the plight of people that need an excessive amount of black hairbands because they can never find any. one day they’ll find the mysterious cause of missing hairbands and then she’ll apologize because it wasn’t actually my fault.

it’s annoying how she complains about things she’ll never understand. unless she grows her hair out, which she’ll never do, despite my pleading that she’d look soooo cute with a headband. (she has a beautiful forehead! an artfully selected headband would only highlight this fact.) but no. instead she takes me to home depot and lowes, which i hate. the moment we walk in i swear i feel like falling asleep. right where i am. in the plumbing aisle while she looks at metal pipes to build things with. on the concrete floor. right there. on my feet. or curled up in a ball on the floor.

we were in home depot last week, in that damn plumbing aisle, and i was like, doesn’t this place have any CHAIRS for people like ME who HATE IT HERE? they have chairs near dressing rooms for men and other people that loathe shopping but must endure a loved one trying on clothes. i mean, it doesn’t even need to be a cushioned chair. i’ll take a FOLDING CHAIR, for crying out loud. i know you sell them here! friggin put out a folding chair! damn!

at least in ikea i can escape into one of those make-pretend living rooms and sit on a futon. or hang out in the cafe and eat swedish delicacies or at least have a cone and a cup of decaf from the snack bar. but home depot and lowes, man, there’s just no escape. so i usually act out until holly sighs and says, “ok fine. let’s go.” once we get in the car, my entire body relaxes and i suddenly feel quite rejuvenated. but my rejuvenation is typically replaced by guilt because i know she wanted to stay. so instead i suggest we get some gelato so we both can feel better. and that’s what’s called emotional eating. the end.

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“wait,” she whispered. “you’re a…a…”

a what?? i’m a what, lady, a what? just say it! c’moooooon, say it! say it, lady, say it. i know you can do it!

so you may recall i recounted the enthusiasm shared by some female tellers at my local bank (a supermarket branch) a couple weeks ago regarding my then-upcoming wedding. i didn’t tell you at the time, but the ladies didn’t have a clue who i was marrying. i mean, they probably thought it was a man, but whatever, you know? they were excited. ok, so fast fwd to yesterday.

i go to the same bank to make a deposit, and the same lady’s behind the glass–one of the two who freaked out and got excited about the wedding. it took her a minute to put everything together and figure out it was me who got married, that the wedding happened, etc. we gushed for a minute–and i don’t know if it was b/c she felt like she knew me already or a cultural difference (she had a thick accent, not sure where she was from)–but then all the sudden, she was like, “who’s holly?” b/c holly and i share our account. naturally! we are married. (wink. i do love saying that.) i thought it was awfully bold of her to ask, seeing how bank stuff is supposed to be private, but i didn’t have the energy to say so. i was in one of those moods where i like to shock ppl by saying i’m gay or whatever you wanna call it. (this always seem to shock ppl as i’ve been told i don’t “look” gay, i.e. am “feminine,” and as un-PC as it sounds, i do see where they’re coming from. (remember ppl, i can talk smack about gays and jews b/c i’m both) but it does make things more fun for me, as the shock value is higher. anyway) so i hold up my left hand in front of the glass, point to my ring finger (two rings! yeehaw!) and say, “that’s who i married! holly! holly’s my partner. we’re married.”

and i swear, it was the funniest thing. i wish you coulda been a fly on the wall (ok, if it was all of you, it woulda been a swarm’a flies but anyway!) b/c it was so funny. she stopped, her mouth opened, jaw hit the floor you might say and was like, in a whisper,

“wait, you’re…” and there’s this awkward silence. and i wanted so badly to fill in the blank for her b/c she was struggling so. i would have but i had a headache and i felt like i was in a movie and kinda wanted to just watch and see what would happen.

“you’re…”

we’re looking at each other thru the glass. and i’m like, nodding my head, slowly, down–oh! like the hotel manager does w/richard gere in pretty woman when he’s like, about julia roberts, “and miss vivian’s your…. [nodding down at richard gere, waiting for him to agree w/him] niece.” i know you know that part! anyway, she’s stammering.:

“you’re…”

“YOU’RE…”

and she really whispers this part,

“a…”

“lesbian?!”

“you’re” (gulp–such a whisper now) “gay?”

and i was like YUP!! YES I AM! (didn’t feel like going into the whole “lesbian” rant. i’ll explain my feelings on that some other day. tho i “tag” my entries these days “lesbian” i don’t identify as one, i just don’t care for the word itself, and tag them as such in order to tap into a gay audience) and i’m kind of wincing b/c i don’t know what to expect but instead she starts gushing!

“oh that’s AWESOME! my husband and i are big supporters of gay people and gay marriage” and on and on how it’s not fair that we don’t have the same marriage rights and now that obama’s in office things will hopefully get better and she wishes us the best and on and on and it was truly great. i must say. see that? YA NEVER KNOW! i’m really glad i didn’t say anything about her asking who holly was. i mean, i can’t blame her for being curious. after all, my hair is rilly long these days. and my shoes keep getting pointier. and all that *lipstick* i wear! it’s awfully confusing 😉

happy thanksgiving, everyone! i, for one, am thankful for a whole helluva lot. including coffee, which is keeping me going right about now. ttys!

i shouldn’t be up

1:46 a.m.

i shouldn’t be blogging! but i can’t stop myself. i’m getting married today. today.

let me tell you about today (or yesterday, rather, since it’s technically saturday today): today was a rollercoaster. today was not the greatest day. it honestly felt like a bad reality show, like a wedding reality show that makes you cringe. the kind that i beg holly to change, “plllleeeeeasechange it, hunny! please. this is too stressful, i can’t even watch.” yeah, that kind of day.

a lot of tears. family drama that did notneed to go down. and me, just freaking out about everything. but now here i am, in a dimly lit hotel room with my maid of honor. i can hear the gentle whoosh of the dc traffic five stories below. it’s the first quiet i’ve had all day.

does anyone remember that trust game they made you (if you went to camps like me!) play back when you were, say, a teen? like, maybe in your early teens? you would stand with your arms crossed in front of your chest like a mummy, your back against a sea of your peers, all their hands up, waiting for you.

“ready to fall,” you’d say, with every last piece of you not wanting to go.

“fall away,” the group would say.

“falling…”

and you fell….and it felt like forever until you reached that sea of hands (when in actuality it was just a couple feet). and suddenly, for a brief moment, you had let yourself go. you closed your eyes, maybe just for a second, and during those split seconds, were worried that you’d hit the ground. but instead this giant net of human warmth caught your body and pushed you back up.

that’s today. that’s my friends.

it’s so hard to let myself go. it is sohard. and i don’t know why. but i’m learning to do it. today i let myself fall and my friends caught me. even just the hold of your gaze. i don’t know what i would do w/out you guys. i am so blessed.

tomorrow (ok, today), i am going to let myself go even more. i am going to try to be a princess even tho it’s so hard for me. it’s so crazy: i feelall of you rooting out there for me. i actually feel it. strangers, even. and friends from long long ago (and you know who you are and thank you for your voicemail; when i said it meant the world to me, i meant it). your notes in the mail (thank you, jen!), your facebook messages, the texts, the blog comments…i’ve needed it all.

goodnight, everyone! goodnight, goodnight. here’s to a new chapter in my life. here’s to love and hope and forever. to soaking up every moment. to every last piece of advice that all of you have passed my way. here’s to my wedding day. here’s to letting myself fall. xxo jessica