2005-01-05 - 10:03 a.m.

Yes, libbyfish has returned from her time off for good behavior. Two weeks is a long time to not have to get your ass out of bed and schlep to work. I have decided that I no longer want a job. Is there anyone out there that will pay me to sit at home and do nothing? Well, I mean I would clean, do laundry… wait! Clearly I was born too late. I WANT TO BE A 1950’s HOUSEWIFE! How great would that be? I could just sit around in my pearls and think up delicious and nutritious meals for my family. That would be great!
So the word you are looking for is, annnnnywaaaay. HAPPY NEW YEAR to all five of my loyal readers. I hope it was all disco balls and champagne for you. Personally I am not a big fan of New Year’s Eve. I think of it as amateur night, all those people that NEVER go out feel the need to cram in a whole year’s worth of good times into one night… and they are in it to win it. I am getting too old and cranky to pay $200 to go to some club, wait an hour for a drink at their “open bar”, and not dance to DJ Sucky McSuckypants’ mix of Madonna’s “Holiday” and Kool and the Gang’s “Celebration”. Damn, I would rather give Regis a lap dance.
Wow, I have really gotten off topic here… forgive me readers it’s been two weeks since my last update. What is the penance for that, anyone?
Back to what I did on my Christmas vacation. Can I just say? One week is a very long time to spend with your family stranded without a car. I think it would have been slightly less traumatic had P been with me, but he went to visit his family so I was left to weather the storm on my own. This is not to say that I didn’t have a good time. In fact, Christmas day I laughed so hard that my stomach hurt. My dad was in rare form. In fact, I think we may have scared some of our guests. Sometimes it just turns into the dad and libbyfish show. I think we actually embarrassed my mom. Ah well, all in the name of Jesus. He is the “reason for the season”, you know.
I did go and look at some wedding dresses with my sister, K and my mom. Since it is very likely that I will purchase the dress here in NY, I thought it would be nice if my mom could at least see me try some on. I am about to tell you about one of the most humiliating experiences in my life. You might want to get a blanket to put over your head during the really scary parts. I will wait.
Ok, no one told me what to expect on this my maiden shopping trip. No one told me that I would need a “helper” getting the dresses on and off until we were in the car on the way to the first salon. Looking back in retrospect, of course I would need a helper… these dresses weigh more than I do! In the first shop, my sister was my helper, because really how creepy is it to have a girl that is barely twenty-one seeing you in your underwear? This shop had the saddest collection of dresses I have ever had the opportunity to see. My mom, always the optimist, started thrusting dresses into the room that I wouldn’t have washed a car with, but she always said, “maybe it will look better on.” On what? On fire? That is not going on my body. But after trying on a few that looked good on hangers and like a garbage bag on me I started trying on her selections.
It has been a very long time since I have been dress shopping with my mom and styles have changed since my senior prom, however, some of the stuff she was pulling out could have been circa 1989. All of them big and froufy, and there is one thing libbyfish is not and that is froufy! So she went to the opposite extreme and pulled out a dress that I clearly remember Cher wearing on the Sonny and Cher show. It went down so low in the back there was actual butt cleavage. It was about four sizes too big, but still… only so much altering can fix something like that. Imagine the look on the faces of all who attend my wedding who will be staring at my backside for the better part of the ceremony, do I really want them to see my ass crack? Really?
The next shop is where my sister got her dress. She is in love with this shop. She wants to work there part time just so she can fondle the dresses (and try them on in her downtime I would assume). Her dress was perfect on her, and I think in her mind I would wear the same style since we have similar body types. However, I am about seven inches taller and I looked like a drag queen in it. Get ready for the scary parts. In this shop my sister was not allowed to be my helper. I chose about ten dresses in all and the woman (who happened to be the shop owner) helping us carries them into the dressing room. My mom, sister and K all go out to the sitting room to await my debut. This woman starts getting a dress ready and tells me to go ahead and take off my clothes. She doesn’t even leave the room like the doctor does; she just stands there taking her time while I am literally half naked. I dive for the first dress trying to cover my body as fast as possible and go out and do a twirl for my posse. This happens about three or four times until at one point all of them are in the dressing room with me, I am standing there trying to be casual in a thong and high heels waiting for the next dress to be taken out of the bag. Ok, this was not as porno as it sounds but go on and have the fantasy, I’ll wait. It was incredibly embarrassing, if someone had told me that there was going to be a strange person in the dressing room with me, I would have worn a body suit. Just to clarify, I am not one of those chicks with body issues, but DAMN, had someone at least clued me in I would have worn more appropriate underwear! Let that be a lesson to you ladies. Libbyfish wants you to learn from her mistakes.
I am having a really hard time getting back into the swing of things after two weeks off. What do you mean I can’t just take a nap?
Insert weird non- sequiter here…
I had a dream last night that I was filming a documentary on the working class poor. I had gotten the name of the family from their oldest son who was very excited about being on television. When I got to their house I was did quick scan of the housing situation and I met the father, a scary individual that looked a lot like a satanic biker. When I went in the kitchen I saw that the whole sink was filled up with dirty dishes*, clearly this wouldn’t be aesthetically pleasing to the viewer so I set about putting them all in the dishwasher. A dishwasher, I think they call this suspended disbelief, I don’t even have a dishwasher and the viewer of my documentary is supposed to believe that this family living well under minimum wage does. The mind does reel. Anyway, I over heard the father say that he would agree to do the interview since I was making them all dinner. Huh? I went into the living room where they were all watching Hee Haw and told them that I would not be making them a meal I was just setting the scene, and with that they threw me out. THE NERVE! I mean I touched all their slimy dishes and everything; the least they could do is tell me how they could afford a dishwasher when there is no income! I looked to the son who had volunteered his family and he just shrugged his shoulders and went to his job at Burger King. Quite a vivid dream and I didn’t even take any NyQuil!
*This is a pet peeve of mine. Why can’t you just do the dishes right after you finish eating? Really, it doesn’t take that much time and you won’t have to deal with the slimy bits leftover from dinner last week.
Now that I am back I promise to be better about updating. I PROMISE ALREADY, JEEZ!

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