STRAIGHT FROM THE MUT

I joined Weight Watchers last night. I am officially a 39 year old woman. I went with my cousin Stu, who will remain nameless. I go to check in, and I’m filling out the forms, and I am told there are some materials I should buy to help me. Guides and stuff. It’s like half the price if you buy the starter pack. It was just a little weird because the starter pack includes a little purse to keep all your materials in. So now I’m walking around with a purse with the Weight Watchers logo on it. And to think, not that long ago, I was at the Playboy party in San Diego holding my own. My, how far my star has fallen.

Stu hadn’t gone in a while, and he was surprised when the told him he had to pay for the missed meetings. They said it was an extra form of motivation to keep you coming. I told the lady I tried that with my gym membership at East Bank Club. If $160 a month isn’t getting me to a gym full of hot chicks in leotards, $11 certainly isn’t getting me to a conference room full of women with weight problems.

Saturday, The Kipper, JMut and I went skydiving. I did NOT want to go, but we agreed to go with Kip for his birthday. I told JMut I was going to hire a stunt double. He said, “Well you’re going to have a tough time finding someone that ugly.” Dick.

How come when I told all my friends I had made it down safely, the overwhelming response was, “Damn”?

I had called Randi from the place to let her know that we were delayed a bit, and not to get worried. She told me she had been cleaning the house like a madman all morning, trying to keep her mind off things. Ah-ha!! I think I’m on to something here. I mean, what a plan. Just tell her I am doing something nuts, and she’ll clean the house. Although, I think I blew the plan already. I am not sure she believes they are having Running with the Bulls next weekend in Evanston.

So after our crazy day of skydiving, we went out to see our favorite cover band, Then Again, and to celebrate the Kipper’s birthday, and mine belatedly. We got fucking hammered and I guess I had my shirt unbuttoned or something, as Randi took me aside and told me “no one wants to look at your velvety rug.”

My cousin Seth was in town this weekend with a couple of buddies. They are from Richmond, Virginia. We go to order shots of whisky, which you assume is what a southern guy would drink, and Seth’s friend puts up his hand and says, “No no no. I don’t drink whisky. I’ll take a Kamikaze.” OK, realize he is like 6’2” 270. And this guy is ordering a drink usually reserved for sorority pledges. And you wonder why the south lost the war.

Like I said, everyone was hammered (except for maybe the Richmond crew as they ran out of Zima). At the end of the night, we had our second case of wedding party inbreeding. I refuse to name names, but if this keeps up, the only one not getting laid on my wedding night is going to be me.

I will say, it was great to see everyone out for our birthdays. I’m going to overlook the fact that we had to bribe them with an open bar and free food. I think some people were actually there for us. And I did get an amazing gift. I got those Bose Noise canceling headphones. They are insane. You put them on, and you can’t hear any stray noises, and can barely hear voices at all. I’m getting married in six weeks. These are going to be QUITE HANDY!

SO, as many of you know, I am going out of the faith and marrying a Christian. Along with eating pork and having milkshakes with my hamburgers, this of course means I get to celebrate Chirstmas. But , since I always celebrate Christmas anyway, albeit with a trip to a Chinese restaurant and A.C. or the boats, all it really means I get to celebrate Chirstmas in a different way. Last year, while I was still just dating Randi, I made the trip to her hometown of Cedar Rapids for the holiday. Her mom, in a not so subtle attempt to marry off her daughter, went completely out of her way to make me feel comfortable. They got me a blue stocking; they gave me a nice dradel ornament for their tree; they had Star-of-David cookies for dessert. Get the point? Well in case I missed it, they also took me to see Meet the Fockers, and invited their Jewish friends (perhaps the only Jews in all of Iowa) over for lunch the next day. It was like I was an exchange student miles from home. This year, while not as over the top, they again made me "feel at home". The house had blue lights all over, and the tree had blue ornaments and tinsel. While of course it's a nice gesture, if they really wanted to make me feel at home, they would have let me lie on the couch in my boxers while eating cold leftovers with my hands. And they would have some form of pornography, or at the very least some soft-core Cinemax playing the whole time. The did have the Giants game on TV on Saturday, which kind of made me feel at home, but the lack of the DirecTV football package AND, of course, the picture of Baby Jesus staring down at me snapped me back to reality. Anyway, we head off to Church. It was pretty cool. I really didn't feel uncomfortable, except when every single person in the Curch got up to take communion, and I just sat there. I felt like everyone was looking at me. I pictured myself looking as Jewish as could be, and I imagined my nose hanging over the pew into the row in front of me. I'm sure it was all in my head. Of course, when we first sat down, Randi's comment didn't help. I forget what led to it, but her response of, "It's ok, you're Jewish", basically at the top of her lungs, got a slight response. Slight, as in, EVERYONE IN THE FRIGGIN CHURCH TURNED AROUND TO STARE AT ME. "Oh, did I say that loud?"