even white boys got to shout

Since the immortal tune by Sir Mix-A-Lot was a firm part of my adolescence (like many girls my age, I knew the whole thing by heart…and even at 26, I have forgotten very little of it), I find this so delightful that right now I can’t get it out of my head.

Yesterday after yoga MB came over with his semi-GF, and we spent most of the rest of the day together. We watched soccer, which was EXACTLY as dull and pointless as I thought it would be, we had dinner together at Lemongrass after GF left (even though BF and I had dinner at Lemongrass on Saturday night too – what?), and we just sort of hung out.

The semi-GF was a nice gal, cleverer and more down-to-earth than I expected. I have the feeling that she really cares for MB, and that MB is sort of not sure how not to be her BF anymore. I sometimes get a little complacent with how wonderful BF is, how sensitive and intelligent about relationships, and forget that most men are just sort of stumbling around cluelessly.

Yoga yesterday was with Sandy (the woman whose name I forgot) again instead of Jeannine, but this class was much better. We did an interesting arm balance (except with the back leg not extended) and a lot of other stuff, and although there was a lot of work involved, it really did feel like an all-levels class, which is so much more inviting to me. I think I pulled a groin muscle a little, because a small muscle at the crease of my thigh (that qualifies as a groin muscle, right?) feels loose and painful whenever I lift my leg.

I wish I had another weekend. I am so tired and want nothing more than to rest for a little longer. I had terrible dreams last night, about a guy from high school and retail troubles and people chasing me.

I found a weird skin…thing on my upper chest on Saturday, and after a little looking on the internet, it could be completely nothing or it could be a tiny, discrete bit of skin cancer. Either way it’s not something to fret terribly about – if it’s cancer I can get it burned off with local anesthetic and be fine - but I should get it checked out. So I called a few dermatologists in town to get an appointment. The first two did cosmetic dermatology as well, and one had first availability in September and the other in August. I understand that doctors’ offices are busy, but I couldn’t help thinking (even if it’s not true) that a big backlog of cosmetic patients could be keeping me from being healthy. Grr. The third office I called gave me an appointment on July 15th. That week is turning out to be pretty much a loss at work, because the 15th is a Tuesday, and the 16th-18th is Parents Time.

We watched The Philadelphia Story on Friday night. More accurately, I badgered BF into watching The Philadelphia Story on Friday night. Of course, anyone with a heart and ears will love this movie, so it certainly wasn’t wasted badgering. I loved it even more than I ever have. I also still felt like Tracy really reversed herself at the end; why was she so ashamed of her actions with Mike? I mean, okay, 1940 is not 1995, but she was REALLY drunk and I’m not sure why she should suddenly be branded as a scarlet woman not worth marrying because she made a mistake. It suits the character arc better if she regrets her actions, but it suits the character better if she boldly accepts what she did. This time the episode reminded me of my senior prom night with JQ – the moment carried us away into weirdness, and the next day it was forgotten and we were just great friends again. In any case, the movie is tremendous. Yar in all ways. (I’m not reviewing it because it’s not new to me, and because the last thing the world needs is my piddling perspective on such a glorious classic.)

I studied and read a lot this weekend, but I still feel like I barely know anything about the material. One way or another it’ll be over after Thursday, and I’ll have some time. I forgot to mention that a couple of weeks ago, MM asked me about school, and when I answered her question she said “So you’re just doing this to do it, then? You don’t sound like you’re really enjoying it.” She’s right; I’m not enjoying it. What I couldn’t tell her is that I’m doing it so her husband will shut the hell up. When I mentioned this to MB and BF yesterday, saying that I thought it wasn’t much of a reason to do anything, MB laughed and said not to worry, and that a large number of the things he’s done in his life have been for that very reason. BF agreed. I mean, yeah, I’m also doing it to have a higher salary, and because of this weird thing I have where I have to be an expert at whatever task I set my hand to, but mostly it’s so MD will leave me alone. $5,000 and hundreds of hours of my life so MD will leave me alone.

I really want to move away.