Mary + Her Mental Health

This was just entirely too much fun. Stories of getting stranded in Stockholm by your father, pre-teen hairdos, stirrup pants, and Elvis hair. "I kept thinking 'he's never going to marry me!' And he didn't!!!", wearing your science medal to church, Cinderella and her Pumpkin Coach played by your paraplegic sister for Halloween, "sin juice," convincing your dying grandmother you're not a lesbian, the stories...oh the stories. I don't remember the last time I laughed that hard.

Labels: fun, happy, photos

8:08 a.m. Friday, July 27, 2007
Arlington, MA

Awake in my bed. Phone on the night stand starts to buzz. Sleepily reach over to check the number. Don’t recognize it. Debate on whether to answer. What the hey…

Me: Hello?
Deep Male Voice: Mary Webster.
Me: Yes?
DMV: Happy Birthday.
Me: Thank you!
[10 seconds of silence.]
Um, who is this please?
DMV: This is Spencer N. [a guy in my ward I hardly know, but think the world of.]
Me: BWAHAHHAHAHAHA! Spencer! What’s up, man? [sits up in bed.]
DMV: I think you should know. You’re going to be inundated with calls today.
Me: Oh, I am?
DMV: Yes. Just thought you should know. Have a happy birthday.
Me: It already is! Thanks, Spencer!

So apparently, my dear gal Peg sent something out to the entire world telling them to call, text, or email me on my birthday. It was ridiculous and wonderful how much my phone went off on Friday.

10:30 a.m. Friday, July 27, 2007
Lexington, MA

80 Minute Hot Rock Massage.

Here’s me pre massage:

Here’s me post:

12:15 p.m. Friday, July 27, 2007
Interstate 95 somewhere between Lexington and Brookline, MA

Read 7 texts and listened to 3 voice mails. I lost track by late afternoon. Called Peg. Headed to Atrium Mall for a little retail celebrating.

1:00 p.m. Friday, July 27, 2007
Atrium Mall, Brookline, MA

Found nothing I was crazy about, but did stop in to get my face dolled up at the MAC store. I wear so little makeup, when she was finished I barely recognized myself. I looked like a clown hooker. The sales women looked at me like I was the Electric Light Parade: "You are goooorrrgeeeeous! Oh my gosh, you look ammaaaaaaaazziiiiiing! Oh, woooow! Wooooow!" Sorry ladies, I'm just getting the lip gloss.

3:00 p.m. Friday, July 27, 2007
Arlington, MA

Came home with a chili cheeseburger and fries from Krazy Kary’s. Watched one episode of Flip That House. Went to TJ MAXX and found my birthday dress for $30. None of this Anthropologie stuff for me. Oh, and got adorable shoes to go with for $20. It’s a birthday bargain! At TJ MAXX!

3:30 – 6:00 p.m. Friday, July 27, 2007
Arlington, Somerville, Cambridge, MA

Phone conversations. Lots and lots of phone conversations.

7:15 p.m. Friday, July 27, 2007
Arlington, MA

Doorbell rings. My date is here. Going out to dinner at a surprise location. Still got my clown face on, and I’m wearing my skinny jeans.

We drive to Frank’s Steak House. My baby took me out for a steak dinner. I mean, am I lucky, or am I lucky?

Here we are at Frank’s.

My date had flowers and a beautiful card delivered to the table by the Maitre’D.

Yes, I cried. You know what? I’m old. Old people cry. It happens. What?

Here’s my steak.

Um. Here was my steak.

Here’s where they came out with the birthday cake.

Do you see how easy it is to make me happy? Chocolate, people. That's really it.

A chocolate mousse torte, actually.

Um….there are no words. It would cheapen it.

9:45 p.m. Friday, July 27, 2007
Davis Square, MA
We saw this.


12:15 a.m., Saturday, July 28, 2007
Davis Square MA
Then we saw this.

We laughed and cried and laughed and cried again! Awwwww....

3:00 a.m., Saturday, July 28, 2007

Fell into bed after 45 minutes in the bathroom with the eye makeup remover and a sander.

I also had a birthday dinner on Sunday evening! Photos and post coming up soon.

Labels: fun, happy, photos

And it's a doozy, my friends.

All right, I’m just going to say this and that’s all there is to it. It’s been boiling and popping inside of me long enough. I don't care how self-absorbed and unattractive it makes me sound. It can't be as bad as when I wrote about my uterus. (Post #18)

So Friday is my 33rd birthday. The big double 3. And even as I type this I still don’t believe that’s really how old I am. 33 is young. But not when you attend a singles ward of an LDS church. Particularly, my singles ward. 90% of the female population is ambitious, adorable, cute, so easy to fall head over heels for, and all averaging almost an entire decade my junior. A friend and I were lamenting that our ward was getting younger. Then we stopped and realized the flaw in that assessment. It’s not that they’re getting younger. We’re getting older.

Physically, I probably don’t seem much older than the other girls. But on the inside…let’s just say that after an average Sunday of mingling and conversing, laughing and smiling, I need to peel off my lips like a strip of thick Velcro, squish someone’s face with my fingers and howl a big long YYYYYYEEEEEEAAAAIAEEEEE!. A lot. And then maybe go for a run down Mem Drive without my shoes and scream some absurdities.

Not that I don’t like to smile. Or converse. I’m decent at both. In fact, I’m a pretty friendly cuss, so I have at least a fairly good acquaintance with many of the girls. And I can say with sincerity that they’re a phenomenal group of people. But they’re a young phenomenal group of people. When I was 25, I’d like to think I was exactly like them. These women seem lighter, simpler, more energetic, more fun, and every guy’s dream come true. I look at them and think…wow. You are such a catch. But, it’s okay. I only need one guy who prefers someone like me. Someone sadder, wiser, louder, sillier, stranger, contradictory, overwhelming, a big fat liar, compulsive gambler, someone who likes to wear fake moustaches, hates animals, keeps a 1,000 specimen spit ball collection, the list goes on. Problem is, he probably lives in Seattle.

What is this exactly? I know I don’t want to switch places with any of them; I actually like the woman I am. I got all kinds of interesting in here. And I think men see that too. But I don’t think men want to marry someone like me. Men admire me, they can talk to me, (usually about their girlfriends.) Sometimes they date me, and they seem to really enjoy it for a while. According to many a guy, I’m going to make someone very lucky someday. (and by the way, the next guy to tell me that gets my fist in his eye socket.) They just don’t seem to fall crazy in love with me. They marry the girl over there I just got done talking to.

I remember when my sister Amanda became engaged to her now husband, McKay. I applauded McKay for choosing her. Amanda doesn’t lie down and take it from anyone, and McKay adores that about her. Good for him, I thought. He gets it. Amanda is not smooth waters 24/7, nor should she be. She’s real, she’s hilarious, she’s complex. And if you don’t marry her you’re an idiot, because there is absolutely no one else like her.

Ugh, I totally got off on the boy tangent. Ick. Okay, so back to the 33rd birthday thing. The past few weeks, it’s been hitting me hard. So I came up with a plan. I’ve got great things planned for myself by way of celebration. I’m a big believer in celebrating. To fight off my feelings of inferiority and distance, I reached out to some women closer to me in years, and shared with them some of these feelings I have. The response was overwhelming. In fact, we’re having a dinner party at my house next week. Turns out, I’m not all that alone in this. Turns out, even a couple of them look at me and think I’m one of those girls they look at and think “why can’t I be like her?”. Is that not always the way it is? I really love women. Even the younger saplings.

I just don't want Satan to make me think because I'm older than most, I'm not as good or desirable. It's not true. Circumstances might be twisted to make it seem so, but it's just not true. The Spirit gives me the feeling that God delights in my company, and that's what I need to remember. Because that's what's real. If I remember that, I don't feel the inclination to pit myself against anyone, especially one of my beautiful (albeit younger) sisters. I can see myself as equal and just as great as she. I've actually got a little advantage, truth be told. Getting older really is a good thing.

200. Done.

Labels: a little venting

1. Cat Power
2. Bacon – it’s just a powerful taste
3. My roommates – how did I ever score such gals?
4. The wicked good night’s sleep I had last night
5. Buying songs because the boss left early today
6. Photographs – seriously, where would you do w/o them?
7. Sweet, adorable voice messages from Mom
8. Rockin’ out to Davey Jones in my driveway
9. Road trips with Funyuns – I like to breathe on innocent passengers
10. Electric Light Orchestra – what up, Mooney.
11. Blonde highlights
12. Crying just enough so the tears well up but don’t fall
13. Having no time because it’s filled with crazy summer plans
14. My sweet Jennie Sue

Labels: fun, happy, random

From a co-worker and dear friend:
I cannot tell you how much I love that Org Chart. Seriously - already it is SO helpful.

From every single person you invited:
I will be there!
(followed by profound expressions of anticipatory excitement)

From your sister:
You are brilliant.
(and since she’s seen it all from you over the years, it’s overwhelming that she’d think so.)

From your mom:
Daughter to Daughter, thank you for being at the crossroads.
(too personal to explain, but maybe you can imagine what it takes for a mother to relate to you as a daughter of God.)

From your server:
Actually, that man over there just paid for your lunch. He said to tell you “thanks for the smile.”
(I know, right?!)

From your bishop:
Thank you for the incredible young woman you have become and are today!

From Bravo Announcer:
The All Day Top Chef Marathon starts now. (and you’ve got nowhere you need to be.)

So what do y'all think of this?

From your Driver’s Ed instructor:
“You know, you’re a real nice girl and I like you a lot, but you can’t drive worth a lick.”

From your male therapist:
“Okay, so you said you have problems connecting openly with men. Do you really think therapy with me is going to help you?”

From your sister:
“You dress very matronly.”

From your dentist:
“Well buddy, from where I sit I see two crowns and at least one more root canal. [To his assistant] Let’s use the bigger one.”

From your dentist’s ceiling speakers:
“And I can’t fight this feelin’ anymoooooorrrre. I forgotten what I started fightin’ fooooorrrrrrr…"

From your ob/gyn:
“How old are you? And do you want to have kids someday? Well…I’d get on that.”

From your boss:
“Well, how’s my Little Miss Lack of Attention to Detail faring this morning?”

From the server:
“Sorry, we just ran out of the chocolate cheesecake.”

From your mother:
“I just don’t want you to have to face everything alone anymore.”

From Mel’s Tow Service:
“It’s $119. Cash only. [pause] There’s an ATM down the road.”

Just so we have a little balance, tomorrow I’ll post things you do want to hear.

Labels: a little venting

WARNING: this post might be too disgusting for some readers.


My boss told me the most interesting story today. She got a call this morning from a good friend of hers, who happens to be a vice president overseeing the human resources department of her company. This morning she walked into her office and found someone had pooped on her carpet.
“There’s a pile of crap in my office,” she tells my boss. My boss says, “Yeah, I know what you mean.” “No,” says her friend. “There’s a pile. Of crap. In my office.”

Apparently the specimen was definitely human. I thought maybe someone brought their dog in or something. Is it all possible her office could be mistaken for a bathroom? Has she fired any neanderthals recently? Or maybe a three year-old without his pullups?

Boss and I decided to break this puzzle down into three categories: 1) Premeditations; 2) Logistics; and finally 3) Investigational Strategy.

1. The Premeditations of Mystery Pooper

Pooper: I am one disgruntled professional. I need to send a message. I have legitimate grievances which need addressing. I need my employer to hear my
concerns and take the necessary steps to correct the errors made against me. But
how? How to express it? What’s the best course of….(snap) OF COURSE! IT’S SO SIMPLE! Yet so perfect. (Throws on a pot of strong coffee, laughs low and maniacally.

2. How They Did It

Was the poop in question transported to said office from another site? Or did he/she stake out the office for hours before running in there when the coast was clear? Were there accomplices/lookouts while business was being conducted? And how can you predict how much time you’ll need to complete the mission? I like to imagine that someone was standing outside the door holding a boombox playing the theme to Mission Impossible so Mystery Pooper would stay focused.

3. Tracking Down the Mystery Pooper

Now that my boss’ friend has called for the carpet cleaners to come, perhaps she should take a sample before all evidence is destroyed. How else is she going to catch
the rogue? I’d also like to see the memo sent out to all employees relating to this investigation. Or maybe she should just get on a bullhorn:

All right everybody. I know one of you did it. One of you pooped. So today you’ll all be getting a little kit interoffice. We need a stool sample from every single one of you. We’ll compare it with the sample taken from the crap on my carpet. We take human excrement very seriously around here. Make no mistake. We will find you. Mystery Pooper.

Labels: random

I'm sick of my tropical dream template, and need a new look. This template is not a look. Also, for some reason blogger won't let me add a title to this post.

Do you want to know what is really, really attractive? A guy who knows how to forgive. He can let it go, he can leave it alone, he holds zero judgment, and once you apologize, he can just plain not care about it, because he knows it might just as easily be him in the stupid seat next time around.

I want to be a woman who knows how to forgive.

You know what really draws me to a guy? Seeing his personal connection with Heavenly Father by the way he interacts with other people, what he says to them and about them, how he listens, how he cares.

I want people to know God lives by the way I love people.

You want to know what is sexy? A righteous man. Gets me every time.

Labels: love and stuff so