The Lies We Tell Ourselves

"I don't care!"

"I'll buy the family-size bag-- because it's cheaper-- but I'm just going to eat one serving."

"I'll do it. Of course I'll do [insert tedious, horrible, or gross chore here]... tomorrow."

"Mexican food is healthy!" (Sorry, Dr. Benjamin!)

"It doesn't matter."

"He's not gay. He's just ... a good shopper."

"I love working out!"

"Calories don't count on your birthday... or on Sundays. Or if you share."

"Having a budget is a mature, responsible, grown-up thing to do... and I totally won't spend my entire month's allocation for groceries on these shoes!"

"I didn't want to be with him anyway."

"I don't care."




P.S. And this ain't no lie, y'all-- today is the birthday of one of my favorite bloggers of all time... HAPPY B'DAY, Barbie, my love!!! I hope your day is as beautiful as you are! (And I hear calories totally don't count on your birthday!) ;)

I hear voices...

Peter DeWolf has challenged us all to write a drabble-- a piece of fiction that is exactly 100 words long. Since I never turn down a challenge (and since I hadn't posted in a month and that is inexcusable) (oh, and since Peter told me I HAD to), I drabbled. Just a bit. Enjoy! (I did. Try it for yourself!)

Voices in my Head

Your voice
is fading from my mind. The last time we talked— the LAST time we talked, not last time— I heard the faintest click as you hung up. You didn’t even say goodbye.

Your voice
is a warm caress in the morning. Words wrap around me as easily as your arms. They are almost as strong, almost as... touching. But nothing beats your touches.

Your voice
is resonant in your chest, beneath my cheek, on your tainted red leather couch. Deep, rumbling, it makes me laugh even as it makes me feel safe. I feel like I could sleep...

Sing It.

They Say It's Your Birthday...

Most of you know that this past Saturday was a national holiday-- the Fourth of July... What you may NOT know, is that Sunday was ALSO a holiday-- it was Jennypendence Day!

I spent the weekend doing all kinds of fun stuff. On Friday night, I went with Tia, visiting Canadian dignitary Ben, and my friend PP to see a CYC production of "RENT"! PP and I got stuck in the parking garage and were seated right as the show was starting, so we spent the first Act trying to spot Tia and Ben in the audience, making mental notes on why this production wasn't as good as previous Broadway productions I'd seen (that would be me-- and these kids were like TWELVE, so I may have been a bit hasty), and mouthing all the words to every song (again, me). We were reunited with Tia and Ben at intermission, and I spent all of Act Two completely enthralled with the end of this moving musical. After that, we all went down to a club-like dessert restaurant for decadent deliciousness. Yum!

Saturday morning dawned bright and early with... the Fourth of July parade! My parents' little neighborhood puts on a parade for all the kids every year. Most years, it is a pretty small production and we are content to be spectators. (Hey, somebody's got to wave to the people IN the parade!) This year, however, we were asked to be IN the parade! There was a flatbed truck, heavily decorated, blasting music for all to enjoy; about 150 to 200 people-- kids on scooters, bikes, in wagons, walking dogs, and their accompanying parents, some of whom were more dressed up than the kids; fire trucks; and the pieces de resistance: a white convertible Corvette with an older woman in an Uncle Sam hat on the back AND a black convertible Mustang, decorated with bunting and flags, and ME-- the Parade Princess!-- riding on the back, waving to all her loyal subjects! Seriously, SOOO much fun, and I may never ride any other way!

After that, I taught a couple swim lessons (the weather was PERFECT!) and then went with my mom to spend some time with my grandmother. Most of you don't know her, but she's crazy. And old. And, honestly, kind of mean. Definitely not my favorite person. However, I only have to see her about 3 times a year, and this was definitely a favor for my mom. We pushed Crazy Grandma in her wheelchair down to a lake that was about a mile away from her house. There were ducks and squirrels and cormorants and herons and geese, so that was nice. For me, the hardest parts were: 1) NOT pushing Grandma into the lake; 2) getting Grandma stuck in a hole and NOT tipping her completely out of the wheelchair; and 3) pushing her that mile BACK to her house, which was all uphill at that point. After all that, I wanted to die a little.

But I rallied quickly, after a shower and an Otter Pop, and PP picked me up to go to the San Diego County Fair! I had already been twice this year (including another time with PP!), but they put on an awesome fireworks show, and we made it just in time to see them going off! We rode the Ferris Wheel, played some games, and walked around the exhibits. At nearly midnight, we had finally had our fill and made our way to the exit... and the mile-long line for the shuttle to take us back to where we parked! We got in line, heard someone singing "Happy Birthday" (to America, I think), and then realized it was exactly midnight-- woo hoo! It was my birthday! PP sang me a song and then IMMEDIATELY started in with the old jokes. (Which is ironic, as he is SIGNIFICANTLY older than me! :P) Eventually we got to sit on the top of an open-topped, double-decker bus. We got back to the car at about 1:00 a.m., and he dropped me off around 1:30, wishing me one more happy birthday!

The next day was Sunday, my actual birthday! I slept in (this was the first time I woke up alone on my birthday in at least 8 years), made myself breakfast in bed (OK, I got out of bed, made breakfast, and then got back into bed to eat it!), and sang "Happy Birthday" to my baby-dog (it's her birthday too!). Then I thought about what to do that day.

I had asked different people to do different things over the past week, but everyone else had other plans. "You weren't supposed to be here," seemed to be the pervasive thought. And it's true-- I wasn't supposed to be in town-- I was supposed to be in New York, with the person I loved, eating frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity3. But things change.

The weekend before, a bunch of people came over to my parents' house to play by the pool. We had planned it before I cancelled the New York trip, as a way to celebrate my birthday before I left. After the trip was cancelled, we decided to keep the party on-- I would play with my friends that weekend, and then do something else on my actual birthday, with my family and whoever was around. The pool party was great-- a bunch of people came; we ate and drank and swam and splashed. There was a moment of awkwardness and potential for drama when two people who had broken up recently were there at the same time, but that was over quickly. My brother and Bug were there and they, along with PP and my parents, hung out til the last cupcake was gone, all of us sitting on deck chairs in the fading light, discussing matters of importance and unimportance alike. It was wonderful.

So, this Sunday, on my actual birthday, I didn't expect anything big. I'd been having so much fun the past week, that I just wanted to do something gentle.

"Let's go to brunch!"
"It's too early."

You weren't supposed to be here.

"Come down, let's do something!"
"We can't, today's a rough day."

You weren't supposed to be here.

"Do you want to come with me to Dog Park with the puppy?"
"Of course! I'll be there!" (He never showed up.)

You weren't supposed to be here.

I know, I wasn't supposed to be here. And, honestly, it felt a little lonely. But I know that being here was the right place to be, that not going to New York was the right thing to do, and that-- you know what?-- sometimes the right company... is my own.

So I took the birthday doggy to the park. And we frolicked and played and had a good time-- I even wore a tiara (PP's orders!) and she wore her birthday bandanna. We ran into an old friend (OK, guy I used to date), and he gave us both a kiss and a compliment on our accessories. Then we went home and we both took a shower (Puppy loves to get in the shower!) and did our hair (hers was much easier) and put our birthday-wear back on. (The tiara was mandatory all day!)

A friend and I grabbed a quick Jamba Juice, and then I went over to my parents' house. We had Chinese food, and opened presents, and ate homemade piña-colada cheesecake. It was great to spend some time with the people I love most in the world, and who have loved me my whole life.

After that, I went over to PP's house, and we just chilled. He even got me a singing card with Sleeping Beauty on it! (The only one with blonde hair and a tiara!)

All-in-all, it was a low-key day, but a great start to what promises to be a great year...

Hooray 28!

Ummm...

OK, I was trying to change my header and I messed up a little bit. The thing is, now Blogger won't exactly let me change it. And it's almost 4:00 in the morning, and I'm frustrated, and I don't care all that much anymore!

Anyway, this mini-post is just a little note for those of you who wake up and see this:



Nope-- no title, no tagline, just JenBun with a cocktail. Whoo!

Enjoy it for now, and let's all hope I'm able to make changes again soon...

Wormy.

As some of you know, I was supposed to go to New York last week. The trip was a birthday present to me from Funny Man. In fact, today was the day we were going to leave The Big Apple and fly into TinyTown, Michigan to spend a few days with his family before flying back to Los Angeles with some friends to show them our beautiful Southern California...



We had been planning this trip for more than a year and a half, talking about going together even while I was in New York on another trip. We always said we would be there, together, someday. He booked the flight and hotel in April; we made plans and reservations and mapped out everywhere we wanted to go; I started counting the days. 5 days left...

But part of me never truly believed we'd actually be there. I just couldn't see it really happening...



We didn't go. We're not going. We're not anything, anymore.

I don't know how to write about this. It's weird, and scary, and absolutely the right decision.

It was 12:05 am on June 2, our three-year anniversary, and we were kissing goodbye. We were going to see each other in four weeks, exactly. But on June 26, at 3:36 am, I sent the email that would change everything, that finalized the decision I had been agonizing over, that ended me and Funny Man.

I asked myself, Would I have done anything differently, if I had known that last kiss would be The LAST Kiss?? I am confident that I did absolutely everything I could, and I have no regrets. Sometimes it is just The End...



Goodbye.

While Moonlight Dares to Interfere

In keeping with tradition, here is the 4th of July guest post from my favourite Canadian...

"while moonlight dares to interfere"

as i traced
our history
with my finger
running
from her chin
down
to her navel
i appreciated the curves
inviting

as i placed
my lips on her hip
i thought
about
all the times
i wondered
with muted desire
if we'd get here
ever

as her hair -
curly tonight
despite
(or due to?)
her best efforts -
spilled excitedly
over her
smooth shoulders
i remembered how
she fought me
always

as one tanned leg
gently lifted
straightened
and found a home
on my shoulder
i remembered
with tiny eddies of resentment
all she put me through

and as she sighed with contentment...
i smiled

That's What You Get For Waking Up In Vegas...

A couple weeks ago, I was at the opening of a show at an art gallery. My friend's daughter was showing some of her photography as part of the show, so we were there for awhile. When I walked outside, I noticed a new text message:

"We r going to Vegas fo sho! early morn." (Ignore the text speak. I'll allow it.)

It was my friend PP. I had spoken to him earlier in the day, and he had asked me if I wanted to ride along with him for a trip to Vegas to go to the Hair & Beauty show that weekend. Despite the fact that I wasn't working at Le New Salon anymore at that point, I am ALWAYS down for a trip to Vegas... especially an impromptu trip to Vegas... especially especially when I didn't already have something planned for a Sunday and Monday. (Puppy Z was having a slumber party at First String's house with three other dogs, and he said he would keep her for the weekend.)

It was, as they say, ON!

I called PP back, and we decided to just get up ridiculously early and get out of town. I told him I would meet him at 4:45, hung up, then IMMEDIATELY told my friend and her daughter that OF COURSE I would love to meet them for late-night munchies! For some reason, I couldn't wrap my mind around eating at 12:30/waking up at 4:00 = no bueno. We had fun anyway.

I made it home around 1:30, took a nap, woke up and threw some clothes in an overnight bag, and I was off! After a 7/11 coffee run (even Starbucks isn't open that early!), PP and I rented a convertible and settled in for the 5- to 6-hour drive.

After PP missed the turn-off for the freeway (seriously, you change freeways ONCE to get to Vegas, and he missed it!) because he was yawning, and I was practically levitating from all that caffeine-y goodness, I told him to pull over so I could take over the wheel.

As he curled up in his seat and fell asleep, I blasted oldies, flirted and winked with another driver who was playing lane tag with me, and drove up the mountains and through the desert. It went from rain to sun, from low-60s to high-70s, from early morning dark and cloudy to full-on daytime in VEGAS, BABY! I got us there in 4 1/2 hours and one tank of gas.

After cruising the Strip, we pulled into a gas station to refuel before making our way over to the Convention Center. Tia called at that point, asking (standard) "What doing?"

Ummmm... oh yeah. We hadn't really mentioned to anyone that we were going to Vegas for sure, let alone that we were already there.

"Ummm... I'm in Vegas. With PP." In that background, he started singing "Gooooooooooooing to the chapel and we're gonna get maaaaaaarried!" I told him to hush, as I sensed Tia was going to have something to say.

"What are you doing?"

"I told you-- I'm in Vegas, baby! Vegas!"

"I heard that. What are you doing?"

"I'm... in Vegas?"

"Do you remember Funny Man???"

"Oh yeah. Him."

"Uh huh-- HIM! Your BOYFRIEND?!?!?" Tia was not happy.

"Of course I remember him," I attempted to placate. "He's not here. What does he have to do with anything?" (I may have neglected to mention-- at that particular moment-- the fight we had the afternoon before, in which Funny Man yelled at me that I am not his mother and not his wife, and he doesn't have to check in with me! NO SHIT!!! How's a last-minute trip to Vegas for not checking in??? I decided not to tell him until he called me. He didn't want to know what I was doing? Fine, then I could do what I wanted!!! At least, that's how I felt when I said yes. I realized I knew I wasn't going to do anything, but I'm [relatively] young and not married and, dammit, I was going to live a little!)

"Do not sleep with PP."

"I have no intention of sleeping with PP!"

"Do NOT sleep with PP!"

"I'm NOT!!!"

"How sure are you?" she asked. Damn her.

"Honestly? I'm 90-98% sure I absolutely will NOT have sex with him."

She paused. I could tell she felt better.

"Keep it in the 98% range."

"Welllllllllll," I replied. "You know that 2-10% chance is directly related to how many drinks I have-- 2 drinks? 2% chance of secks-shu-all relations. 10 drinks? Ummm, it might be on."

"Don't have sex with PP."

"I WON'T!"

"Riiiiiiiiiiiiiight," she skepticalled. "You're in Vegas, where there is DRINKING, with a guy who is not your boyfriend! Where are you staying??"

I told her. "It's a suite! There are 2 beds!" Probably. I kept that thought to myself.

"What are you doing?" she asked one more time.

"Going to the Hair Show!" I trilled. La la la, so much fun!

"Alright dude, you're going to do whatever you're going to do." She knows me so well. "Have fun."

"Thanks!"

"Don't sleep with PP. Don't even hold his hand-- holding hands is a gateway drug!"

I laughed, blew her kisses, and climbed back in the car, shaking my head. PP laughed and wondered aloud why she was warning me against him so strongly. I told him that I was pretty sure she was warning me against myself more than anything.

We decided we were hungry, so we made our way to the Hard Rock Hotel, where Rehab was just getting started at the pool. After laughing at all the boys in their funny hats for a bit, we went to the cafe for breakfast. And who was standing right in front of us in line? Sr. Carlos Santana himself! He's the resident musician for the summer, and his show was just opening that night. Awesome! He seemed very down to earth and chill... until some jackass started getting right in his face, insisting on taking a picture, even after being told no. After that, his guard was up and he went straight to his seat at a booth in the back.

We ate and decided it was time to get on over to our reason for being there-- the International Beauty Show (or IBS which, frankly, I thought stood for something else...). We drove to the Convention Center, finally found parking, and then realized... we needed to change. Did we do it at the gas station, where at least there would be a mirror? No. Did we do it at the Hard Rock, where there are nice bathrooms and plenty of room? Nope. Did we deck-change right then and there, complete with undergarment changes and a lady sitting (watching?) in the parked car next to us? Yes, yes we did. And we looked GOOD!

We did the hair show. I mean, we did the hair show-- we saw all the booths (twice); went to a class on Brazilian waxing techniques (complete with live female AND male models! mrrrowr...oooooooowwwwwwwwwwww!); went to another (HORRIBLE) class on airbrushing makeup; walked through all the booths again to see if there was anything PP hadn't purchased the first time; went to the skincare portion of the convention and walked through THOSE booths; and collected pamphlets, freebies, and samples everywhere we went. Awesome.

At one point, we passed a booth selling sparkly things. PP just walked by it the first time, but stopped when he noticed I had been distracted. He took one look at the rings, got a gleam in his eye, and we both had the same idea at the same time-- what if we got married?!? PP started handing me rings to try on, saying "No, that one's too funky"; "That one's too big" (what???); "There! That one's just right!" And it fit perfectly! Sold. He slipped it on my finger, and we both giggled as all the ladies around us cheered. Whooo!

We were loaded up with goodies, I was distracted by the weight of the new ring on my left hand, and we'd been go-go-going all day, so we decided to go check in at the hotel and relax for a bit before going out for the evening. PP offered to carry me over the threshold, but I went for a piggy-back instead. We reminisced for a bit about past Vegas trips and then curled up for a nap. In the one (king-sized!) bed. (No "whooooooooo"ing! Just sleeping.)

I jumped up after an hour, refreshed and ready to go back out. I had been wearing a dress all day, so I think PP was a little surprised when I decided to change, but I thought an all-black ensemble with sexy red heels and red lips was better for night. I could have worn a little schoolgirl skirt to get in at Sunday School (I brought it with me!), but I decided to wait and see how the night turned out.

We went over to Mandalay Bay and ate, shopped, and looked around for a bit. We ended up wandering around The Hotel and the Luxor before making our way back to the Hard Rock. PP hadn't really been drinking much, but he had a couple beers with dinner and as we walked around, so I felt fine knocking back the rum and diets. Really, though, for a trip to Vegas I was very restrained. We walked, we talked, we played "Slutty or Professional?" with the scantily clad women who strutted by.

As 24 hours of being awake approached, we decided to head back to our room. It was easy and never awkward as we both got ready for bed. And it was all giggles as PP took his shirt off and I pulled down the straps on my tanktop and we posed under the covers, making it look like we were naked. We took a couple of pictures and laughed our (sober!) asses off as we sent one to Tia, imagining her freak-out as all her worst fears were confirmed! Then we settled in, watched some TV, kissed goodnight, and drifted off to sleep.

For four hours.

At which point we had to get up, splash water on our faces, and check out and get back on the road. We stopped for breakfast (and coffee! lots of coffee!) and texted Tia again.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Holy shit," I replied. "I don't know-- I got WASTED, don't remember most of the night, but woke up this morning with PP sprawled across me, a ring on my finger, and papers from the Elvis chapel all over the place!"

"Shut up. If you're lying, we aren't friends anymore!" I knew she didn't mean it.

PP and I giggled the whole way home. (During which I may have inadvertently flashed a trucker!) We came up with increasingly more elaborate stories to tell people about our trip, and we agreed that we would stop when it stopped being funny. (For us!)

We parted ways, as PP dropped me off at my house, with promises to meet up later. I went over to Tia's to show her my new ring and "try to piece together" what had happened the night before. (Hee hee hee!) She was less than thrilled.

Even less so when I showed up at Le New Salon the next day to "pick up" PP, kissing him hello and both of us flaunting our rings. (His was just a ring he already had, turned around backwards. We weren't really fooling anyone with the "married" thing, but Tia was convinced we had gotten drunk and made some bad decisions!) He asked her to double-date with us (she turned us down), and to come over to my parents' house where "we" would be spending Father's Day. (She gagged a little.) (And turned us down.)

No one could ever accuse her of being Funny Man's biggest fan, but Tia was REALLY not a fan of my alleged cheating on him! The next day, as I was getting ready to go to the fair with my mom, Tia called and REALLY laid into me-- she was pissed! I tried to pat her down, but I could tell that we had hit the breaking point where she was just disgusted with both of us for going along with this whole cheating thing so easily. OK, it wasn't funny anymore.

I called PP and told him that it was time to come clean. He laughed and we both agreed that waiting a few weeks and then telling her my period was late might be pushing it a bit. He told me to come into the salon later and we would tell her, in person, together. When I texted her to tell her we wanted to talk, she replied, "What? We don't need to talk. This is me and you, BFFs. Not you and PP." It was over. I texted her and told her she'd been punked!

"You're a pain in the ass."

"Yes, but I'm FUNNY! Hee hee hee!"

"You're still a pain. Plus, aren't you mad at me for completely believing your Slutty McSlutterson antics?"

"Oh yeah... Bitch! I told my mom and she said you believed it because evidently you believe it's within the realm of the possible."

"Haha, I think you're a slut!"

Bitch, this is why we didn't invite YOU to Vegas!

Happy Birthday, Jonny Angel

Today would have been my Jonny Angel's 30th birthday.

We made a promise, back when we were younger and idealistic and at least one of us was still in high school, that we would marry each other if we were both unmarried when we hit 30. I don't know whose 30th birthday we were talking about-- mine is still 2 years off-- but I know that, despite it being a cliched promise, we absolutely would have been a part of each others' lives forever. There are some people that, despite the time or distance between you, are a part of you no matter what. He was one of those people.

He is one of those people.

I love you, Jonny.

When I first heard this song by P¡nk, I thought it must be about an ex-lover. Then I heard it again and listened more closely to the lyrics, and I realized it could also be about a loved one who is just no longer with us...

And now I'll borrow her words because, after more than three years, this is still how I feel...

Happy Day, Dad!!!

You all know that today is Father's Day, but it was also my dad's birthday recently.

When we were discussing what he wants on all his upcoming special days, he kept mentioning this special dessert that his best friend back in Reno used to make for his birthday. After the third or fourth mention, I knew I had to obtain the recipe and make it for my dad. So I emailed:

From: Jen Bun
Sent: Sunday, June 07, 2009 6:00 PM
To: A. P.
Subject: Hi!!!

Hi Big A!!! (We had another friend with the same name growing up, so we called her "little A" and our honorary aunt "Big A," even though she's TINY!)

How are you? Hope all is going well! Is it hot out there yet? How is work? (yes, it is just THAT fascinating to get an email from me!)

[blahblah, updates about family stuff]

I am writing because my dad's birthday is coming up soon, and he has mentioned a few times that you used to make him a grasshopper pie for his birthday. My mom says it's the best grasshopper pie ever! I was wondering if you could send me the recipe, so I could make it for him for his birthday this year...

I know he'd really appreciate it! (And I love to get to try it!)

THANK YOU!!!

Hope to hear from you soon!

Love,
Jenny

***

She emailed me right back:

From: AP
Sent: Sunday, June 07, 2009 6:20 PM
To: Jen Bun
Subject: RE: Hi!!!

[Childhood nickname for JenBun]!!!! Hi!!!

I miss you guys!! Wow, it has been so long since I have made that. Like a lifetime ago!

I will see if I have the recipe. I think it involves cool whip, crème de mint and graham cracker crust and something else(?). Man, it is a distant memory . . . It had to be a very simple recipe because I have never enjoyed cooking --- which also means I must have really liked your Dad to have made him a pie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In spite of him giving me a dead bird on one of my birthdays!!!!! Yes, what are big brothers for . . .

Hey, never grow up. It just gives you grey hair.

Love you, kiddo!!!
A

***

Umm... what?!? My dad gave her a dead bird for her birthday??? I asked him about it, and he (allegedly) didn't remember why exactly he would have done such a thing. So I asked her about it, but I have yet to get a satisfactory answer. I did however, get the recipe for Grasshopper Pie (super simple), and... here it is!

Grasshopper Pie

Ingredients:

1 Oreo pie crust (you can make it yourself-- crush Oreos to crumbs in the food processor, drizzle about 5 Tablespoons melted butter over the crumbs until they stick, press into a pie pan and bake at 350 degrees for 12-15 minutes-- but it's super easy and the same price to just buy one that's already made)
1 7-oz. jar of marshmallow fluff
1/4 cup creme de menthe
2 Tablespoons creme de cacao
2 cups whipping cream (I used heavy whipping cream. Yum yum!)
1 ounce semisweet chocolate, shaved for decoration

Chill pie crust for at least 30 minutes in the refrigerator.

In a mixing bowl, combine marshmallow fluff, creme de menthe, and creme de cacao. Beat until smooth.

In a separate bowl, whip cream until soft peaks form (about 10 minutes on high speed). Fold whipped cream into marshmallow mixture. Spoon filling into pie crust.

Freeze for at least 5 hours. Garnish with chocolate curls and extra whipped cream if desired.

YUM!

To my dad-- my protector, my provider, my inspiration, my lawyer, my coach, my fan, my admirer, my friend, my guide through life and love-- happy birthday and an extra-special Father's Day! I love you.