When a Stranger Calls

This weekend I got a random call to my cell phone. I – like many people – don’t answer random numbers I don’t know. So, when a number from Tuscon appeared on my cell, I ingored it. Ten minutes later, a “restricted” number popped up on my screen and I declined that one too. Then I saw that both calls had resulted in voicemails.

The first voicemail I listened to long enough to find out it wasn’t for me and moved on to the second. All I knew was that Andy* was calling Angie for one reason or another, and I’m not Angie. So I deleted the message and moved to the next. The restricted number turned out to be Andy – who withheld his number in an attempt to get me, or rather, Angie, to pick up – and this time I listened, because really?

Turns out Andy told Angie she’d gained some weight. At this point I’m not really surprised that Angie gave him a fake number, but as I’m listening to it… I realize the fault might not have been on Angie’s side. Andy sounds like he’s 80 years old, mentally incompetent AND high as a kite.

I deleted them both and thought that was the end of it.

He called twice on Monday – with no messages left – withholding his number.

He called twice yesterday.

The first time he withheld the number. The second time he didn’t. And what came of the second call is quite possibly the strangest voicemail I’ve ever received:

Hey Angie this is Andy, um Suzy’s neighbor, I am sooooo sorry that I hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to because it was just that you know I went through the same thing and I just started loosing cuz I  you know stip-but I also wanted to talk to you about me coming off of them an stuff so…. Please call me and I am so sorry.
I Love you. So.

…and don’t say anything but, um, you’re my favorite over you know. I mean I like Suzy a lot and I like (pauses like he’s trying to remember the name) Peg, but… Peg, I like a lot, but not like you an you know  you’re down to earth and you try to f*ck in all these weird  words and stuff. So please don’t tell em that but you are. You’re my favorite. I’m sorry, I really am

Call me. My number is 773-11…8…

Wait

7…3…3

Wait

7…3…

It’s 520 (completes his actual phone number)

I just got up so I’m sorry, Bye bye hun. I hope you’re doin’ alright.

* The names of those involve have been changed to protect the innocent (and incompetent)

A Modern Day Cinderella?

(Did anyone else notice that yesterday was my 200th post! Oops!)


Last night I did something I hate doing. I went dress shopping.

Long story short, Earl’s mom is getting married in April and while I am not in the wedding, she insisted on buying me a dress. (Probably because she’s never seen me in a dress and thinks that the only way to get me in one is to buy one for me herself.)

The other thing that made the ordeal all that much more irksome is that she wanted to buy the dress at David’s Bridal. Being surrounded by that many white bridal gowns makes me a little dizzy. So anyway, I went to their website and found a dress in the “Special Occasions” tab that I liked… a lot.

I’ve gotten to the point where – in my attempt to never have to enter a mall – I’ve gotten very good at recognizing what will look good on me and what won’t. This dress was nigh on perfect. And, it was purple. How could I go wrong?

Well, this was on January 29th… by February 1st, the dress was nowhere to be found on their website. It had been discontinued.

And so, I constructed another plan… a devious plan.

But this plan was not meant to be either. Tuesday night, we get a call from Earl’s mom, informing us that she’s just gone in for her fitting with the alterations department… and they have three of the dresses in their “Clearance” department.

And thus we took a drive over to the west side last night to try on dresses. (This is where we get to the Cinderella part, don’t worry, it will make sense shortly.)

I being a realist, and knowing that David’s bridal sizes run small, am wary of these dresses. Doubtful, even, that they’ll fit. So, my devious plan is still percolating in the back of my mind. And thus, loitering in my purse (it’s a big purse) is a purple alligator skin heel. One. Sadly, it wasn't glass.

It was just for a color match – you understand – so there was no real reason for me to bring both.

This is the color swatch that matches
the shoes exactly!

And so I tried on the dress I’d originally picked out. And it fit perfectly. I loved everything about it, the neckline, the length, the way the taffeta hung… everything. Except… the fact that the rhinestone details at the waist, were in need of some serious repair. There were pieces missing, others were loose or turned the wrong way.

Worried about the hassle of making them fix these problems, Darlene suggested I try on a few others.

I tried on approximately fifteen other dresses. And because I was surrounded by mirrors, I put on my one heel, because being barefoot in a dress just looks strange when you’re as short as I am. I then proceeded to pretend I was a flamingo and stand on one foot. I looked like an amputee with most of the dresses. It was kind of awesome.

I tried on these:

And a few others that I can’t find pictures of…

And they all had problems. Mostly with neckline or what I like to refer to as “butt cling” and over all, they simply didn’t work for me. There was one dress that hung perfectly. It almost made me take back all of the bad things I’d ever said about chiffon… but the neckline felt like it was choking me… And in the end, we walked up to the checkout with the dress I’d originally chosen.

And this, kids, is why I hate dress shopping. But next, I get to go shoe shopping and believe you me. There is nothing unappealing about that prospect.

Lars and the Real Girl: If only Geppetto had thought to make “Pinocchia”

This film from 2007 explores a town’s reactions to one of their own - a socially inept young man who’s shy quirks make him instantly endearing – and his delusions that the “Real Doll” he’s purchased is in fact a real girl.

Lars is just a guy trying to get though life with as little interaction as possible. His sister-in-law’s attempts to draw him into the house for a family meal are usually turned down and his co-workers find his anti-social quirks to be off-putting. But when a large packing crate arrives at his home - the converted garage behind the house his brother and sister live in - Lars finds a new companion in Bianca.

Referring to Bianca as a "vsitor" he met “via the Internet,” Lars slowly introduces his “Real Girl” to a town that, due to their closeness to Lars and his family, soon accept the doll as a member of the community.

In an uncomfortably hilarious and heartbreaking movie, the camaraderie of the human spirit is shown to break through social stigma, and Lars finds how to act with a real, real girl.

This film is a bit of a change from Ryan Gossling’s (Lars) 2004 appearance in The Notebook and his psychological thriller, Stay (2005), but it shows his diverse acting ability as he fully embodies the loner with sever social phobias. Most of the rest of the cast are not “Huge” name stars, and the setting of snowy Wisconsin might have you reaching for a blanket, but, having owned this movie for a good few years, I would give this movie a rating for 4.5 stars. (Only losing points for how utterly uncomfortable it made me feel.)