Who doesn’t love being worshipped? You’re lying if you say you don’t. We all love the attention. Fuck, what girl doesn’t love men falling at her feet when she walks past?! Okay, that has NEVER happened to me, but whatever. In the end, we all love being worshipped.

Except when it happens at an Indian restaurant.

At least that’s what I realized while dining on Indian food. I have been craving this stuff for weeks. Finally, a friend and I made plans to go last night.

I had on my “I’m feeling slightly puffy” uniform. This one consists of awesome leather boots, skinny leg jeans, a tight tank and a comfy, cozy, soft, long sweater. This combination holds me in and covers me up. It also allows me to eat lots of food.

I’m not the girl that has fat days. Well I do. But I rarely mention it. Mainly because I realize I’m the only one who notices and I don’t want the reassurance from others. Because saying I’m fat, bloated, puffy, enormous, etc will only cause others to say, “No you’re not, you look great…blah blah blah.”

Well, our waiter at the Indian food restaurant was really helpful with me. He was ultra attentive. Aside from the food being amazing, he had my wine glass filled, my plates cleared, my water topped off all night long all with a huge smile and cheerful banter. Basically he was treating me like a celebrity. I was on to him, he was worshipping me.

Then I realized why. He thought I was a cow.

Don’t Indians worship cows?

Bastard.

Tags: fat, Indian, restaurants

I love Christmas. But let me explain. There is plenty of public Christmas stuff I hate.

What I love involves being at home, having a beautiful tree with white lights, drinking bubbly, snow, giving to others, spending time with friends, talking with my family (all but Elle live in Texas), and most of all watching Elle’s face light up on Christmas morning.

Those are the things that make my heart happy. Every year.

But to get there, I have to put all my decorations up. Put the spirit of the season in my house. Let’s not get carried away. I only decorate my front living room and an area around my fireplace in another room.

This chore is dreaded. Hell, it’s a chore. But I try and make it fun. Elle and I spend the weekend after Thanksgiving pulling out all the decorations. She talks about how special her ornaments are. I get all anal about making sure we put everything exactly where it was last year.

Normally after a few hours, we’re done.

This year I am overwhelmed.  I bought a new tree. I needed a fresh start. But I overestimated the height of my ceilings. I bought a 9 foot tree. I *think* my ceilings are tall enough. And the fact that it is in this tiny box freaks me out. It may be impossible to make it as gorgeous as it looked in the store. And will I have enough ornaments?

So today I’m taking a break. My break includes hot cocoa with Malibu rum and a movie! Elf. I love this movie.

But really I’m waiting for a friend to help me set up this enormous tree. I could barely manage my old 7 1/2 foot tree on my own.

Let’s just hope there is enough Malibu rum to get me through this decorating shit.

Tags: decorating, holiday, tree

I did it. And of course, I prefer the more expensive one.

Now I’m being made to finish them both. Fuck I love my family.

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Tags: drinking, Drinks