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Tragic Love Friday

Today marks the beginning of a four-day weekend for me, a day I'd like to spend catching up on two weeks' worth of All My Children episodes but will probably use to run boring errands like finally updating my driver's license to reflect my married last name and visiting the dentist to take bite-wing x-rays of a tooth most likely infected with a cavity. Luke and I were there just last month for cleanings, during which I scheduled a post implant to replace the molar I had pulled two years ago. I would've had the bite wing taken then if my period hadn't been a week and a half late, causing me to think I was pregnant, but of course it came the next day and I was a little sad but mostly pissed about having to make the thirty-minute drive to the doctor's office before my January 12th appointment. The things I do to avoid radiation exposure to my future children.

But what about Kayla's and Jenna's little rug rats? That's the real question of the hour.

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CHAPTER FIVE - JENNA

I walked out of St. Joseph's Hospital feeling like I could fly. My doctor, Dr. Foremann, had given me an excellent report. "Your little girl's doing great. The next time I see you, young lady, will be in the delivery room." [Because women who are seven months pregnant could never benefit from a doctor's watchful eye. Frema, M.D. strikes again!]

I had really hoped David could be there, but he had to work. Poor David. He seemed so stressed out. I decided to stop at McDonald's and let him know the good news about Mary Katherine.

When I got there, business was slow. David was slipping on his jacket. His face paled as I walked over to him and gave him a kiss. "Jenna, what are you doing here?" he asked. "I just got back from my appointment. The baby's doing great," I said, smiling. David just stared at me. "We have to talk."

"Sure. About what?" He didn't answer, only led me outside to where his car was parked. "First let me tell you that I never wanted to hurt you," he began.

"What are you talking about?"

"It all started last month. One night I was with Mike, and we had a few beers. You and I had a little arguement that day, and somehow..." he bowed his head. "I went to Kayla's house. We talked about my mom, you, the baby. She listened to me. Old feelings were brought up. Jenna ... we made love." 

I felt dizzy. David noticed and tried to put an arm around me, but I pushed him away. "Don't touch me!" I yelled. "You bastard! Don't ever touch me again!"

"Jenna, I'm so sorry. I feel terrible." He took a deep breath. "Today Kayla called me at work and said she was pregnant with my child." [Oh, that would've been a fun scene to write! How could I have let that gem slip by?]

That did it. My fist went smashing into David's jaw. He stumbled a few steps backward, but managed to stay on his feet.

I was crying. My eyes blinded by tears, I ran to my car. David was right behind me. "Jenna, wait! Let me explain!" [I think you covered just about everything but positioning, buddy. She gets it.] I started the engine and rolled down my window. Throwing a glass car ornament at him [do these even exist?], I screamed, "Take your explanation and shove it where the sun won't shine!"

I managed to get home without killing anyone. I ran into my house and picked up the phone, punching in Kayla's number. She answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Kayla, you slut! This is Jenna. [Ya think?] I'm just calling to let you know that if you want the asshole who slept with you, take him. He's all yours." I slammed the receiver down.

"Calm down," I told myself. "Don't do anything that would hurt Mary Katherine."

That was the only reason I didn't go kill David. The stress of killing him could hurt the baby.

I needed to talk to someone, or else I'd go crazy. So I hopped back into my car and drove straight to Michael's house. As soon as he opened the door, I collapsed into his arms. "Jenna! My God!" [If this were a TV script, this would be a perfect place to fade to commercial, don't you think?] He scooped me up and carried me to the couch. [How muscular must Michael be to sweep a pregnant woman off her feet? Pretty muscular, ladies!] "Are you OK? What's wrong?"

"It's David. He's..." My voice cracked with emotion. "He's gotten Kayla pregnant." I couldn't say anymore.

My best friend was silent as I sobbed in his arms, his hands running through my hair. [I'm surprised they're not on her boobs. News flash, Michael: Groping isn't part of the traditional BFF package!]

After a while, I was OK. I told Michael everything. When I was finished, he looked like he would spit nails. "Jenna, he's a jerk, an idiot and a fool. He doesn't deserve you or that beautiful baby you're going to give birth to."

"What am I going to do?" I wailed.

"You're going to forget about him. He's not worth the effort."

"But he loves the baby. He wants to be in her life."

"So he takes her to the park once in a while. Listen to me," Mike said, cupping my chin in his hands. "I will help you get through this. I'll ALWAYS be here for you. You can depend on me for anything." [Except to support the role your baby daddy hopes to play in your daughter's life.]

"I know." I smiled through my tears. "Tell me: what did I do to deserve such a wonderful friend?"

He hugged me. [Geez, he can't keep his hands off her for even a second!] "Dollface, it's the other way around."

-------

When my girlfriends at school got to this point in the notebooks, they always sighed over Michael's outlandish yet noble display of affection. It even seemed sweet to me at the time, and I wrote the damn thing, but you all know better, don't you?

I have a few thoughts about the story's progression so far. Despite David's superhuman baby-making abilities, I feel for the poor guy, who really has worked hard to do the right thing. Sure, he fucked up a little, but he's also admitted his shortcomings and taken responsibility for his own actions. Most adults in his situation wouldn't have stepped up the way he has for Jenna and the baby, and there's no reason to think he wouldn't support Kayla and her child as well.

My opinions are probably clouded by the fact that I often hoped Nick, who received the best of my heart during my teenage years, would act in a similar manner if I ever "fell with child." I never would have tried to get pregnant on purpose, but I secretly wondered if such a life-altering change of events would inspire him to take stock of his life and realize the wonderful future we could have had if he put forth the effort, because as dysfunctional as our relationship was, we did have amazing chemistry and we really cared about each other. I realize now how naive I was, how lucky I was to be spared the pain of learning my lesson the hard way; Nick didn't have the ability to be the father figure I romanticized about for my babies or the partner I longed to have for myself. But back then I thought about it all the time. What a dreamer I was.

Also, if I were Kayla, and the love of my life came to me one night and wanted to hold me and kiss me and make love to me, I would've had my clothes off faster than you can say "Your mom." For real, peeps.

As Shoe Like It

I'm a little late in sharing, perhaps, but there will be no installment of Weight Loss Wednesday today. There will be no Weight Loss Wednesday because all the greasy KFC, crappy Jewel cheesecake, melt-in-your-mouth-tender steak tacos, Baker's Square pies, and gooey cheese pizza I consumed over the course of the last six days guarantees a significant gain on the scale, the likes of which I have no desire to become more intimately acquainted. Luke's parents, who are both faithful readers of this blog and therefore well aware of my analog-scale woes, were kind enough to present to me a new scale for Christmas, so I'm holding off on a fitness update until the New Year, allowing me to fully utilize a fat-measuring instrument that won't tack on an extra three pounds to my rolly-polly midsection and maybe even show my face at the Y. Plus, Luke was able to get today off, so we spent last night in Merrillville and I totally forgot about hopping onto the scale until the drive back home, at which point I'd already wolfed down a hot dog and small fry from Portillo's and a chocolate-chip cookie dough Blizzard from Dairy Queen. No way was I sharing numbers with you all after THAT.

However, I will share the fact that I received a holiday bonus from work and it was three point five percent of my salary, which may or may not have played a role in the purchase of five pairs of shoes since Thursday, an act that originated from a simple quest to find the perfect brown boot.

On Wednesday Luke and I tackled the mall in search of new clothing for his parents' post-Christmas/fortieth-wedding-anniversary party, and while I found several darling items from Banana Republic, I left the joint still unsure about what to wear. On the way home I reflected on my favorite gray gaucho pants and a khaki-colored, knee-length corduroy skirt that's been collecting dust in my closet since the spring of 2005 because I normally pair it with a chunky brown turtleneck and sassy brown boots, both of which were no longer in my possession. I got to thinking it was high time to reclaim my right to own a kick-ass pair of brown boots, especially since I was finally able to replace the turtleneck during my shopgasm in the Republic. The next day after work I ventured into the JC Penney branch across the street from my apartment complex and discovered all women's boots were thirty percent off. (These babies were fifty. Bucks. Off. How thrifty am I?)

That explains shoe number one.

...And shoe number two, because it was Christmastime, and my boots were members of the Brown family, and how could I keep family apart at Christmas? Also, buckles! Who doesn't like buckles?

Another Penney's find, discovered in the Merrillville mall the day after Christmas, after deciding my black boots needed updating, too, because the ones I had were super cute but also a half-size too small, which didn't pose to be too much of a problem until Luke and I found ourselves wandering downtown Indianapolis in search of our car after his company Christmas party and the boots and I had to walk the equivalent of ten city blocks. I found four pairs of shoes I liked, including two boots, but these were the only ones available in a nine and they were twenty dollars. I would've been a fool to walk away from that deal, I tell you, a fool, a FOOL!

After another two hours in the mall, during which time Yankee candles, Clinique goodies, and a jumbo Cinnabon were added to our list of credit-card purchases, Luke was eager to check out the DSW that just happened to be on the route back to his parents' house, so determined was he to add a new black boot to my shoe collection. How could I say no? What kind of wife would squelch her husband's dreams and walk away empty-handed?

Just to make sure he knew how much his thoughtfulness meant to me, I bought these, too. Nothing says "I love you" like black patent leather Steve Maddens.

These are the Simple shoes I received for Christmas--a nice contrast to all the heels I'll be sporting for the next eight billion years. Thanks, Santa.

That was way more interesting than a little ole Weight Loss Wednesday update, right?

Tragic Love Friday

Only two posts this week? Bah. I totally had plans to update last night, but they were pushed aside in favor of sharing a spaghetti and pumpkin cheesecake feast with our friends and meeting my required annual dose of A Very Brady Christmas, something Luke vehemently despises but still went along with because Jamie and Yancy are cool people and birthed enough witty one-liners to make the viewing more tolerable. Plus, if he said no, he knew he'd just have to watch it with me alone, and I doubt that's how he wanted to spend his last evening at home before Christmas.

Yes, you heard right, our last evening at home. Tomorrow morning we will pack up enough underwear and toiletries to last through Tuesday, as we'll be spending this weekend with my family in Chicago and Monday and Tuesday with his folks in Merrillville. My mother's side of the family is hosting a party that brings us to the area twenty-four hours earlier than usual, and his parents will have one the day after Christmas, extending our stay by one day. Unfortunately, Luke has to report to the office bright and early Wednesday morning, so we'll make the drive back to Indy after the party. I myself will work just one day out of five; I'm leaning towards Thursday so I can enjoy another three-day weekend.

Since the days leading up to New Year's will be so hectic for us, Luke and I decided to open our presents from each other last night. I rejoiced in receiving the first season of Bones (how is it that I just started watching this show? I. LOVE. IT) and a long-desired pair of sneakers, among other things, while he expressed delight over my reserving two seats at a Jerry Seinfeld show in March. Also, duckie paper clips! Isn't life grand?

If you posed that question to Kayla, I'm betting her answer would be, "Not so much."

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PART TWO

CHAPTER FOUR - CASSIE

(One month later)

I was stretched out on my bedroom floor doing some yoga exercises when I heard a knock at my door. Knowing it was David, I yelled "Come in!"

My brother burst into my room, grinning from ear to ear. "Guess what? Steiner gave me a promotion! You are now looking at the new assistant manager of McDonald's!" [Who wouldn't rejoice over the loss of a high school diploma?]

"Impressive!" I got up and hugged him. "Congratulations. Jenna must be estatic that her boyfriend will be working harder than ever so she doesn't have to get off her lazy butt," I added. [Damn pregnant women and their unwillingness to earn their keep!]

David pulled away from me. "Don't start, Cassie. The girl's pregnant. She can't exactly be running all over the place when she's going to give birth in 2 months."

I softened. "Sorry, Dave. I didn't mean to start a fight." I flopped on my bed. "So, are you guys making plans to move in together or get married yet?"

He nodded. "Jenna's been looking at the vacant apartment ads in the newspaper, and she thinks that she's found a few places that we can check out."

"When are you two getting hitched?"

David looked unhappy when he answered, "A week or two after the baby's born." [This seemed so logical to me at the time, but now I'm all, "What's the rush? The kid's already a bastard."]

[Nothing against bastards, by the way. My own parents didn't marry until I was old enough to pick up my head.]

"You don't sound as excited as I thought you would," I commented. He shrugged. "It's just happening so fast. Marriage, fatherhood...it's a lot to handle."

"I thought you were so happy about how things were turning out! God, everyone has been so depressing to be with lately! Always complaining, or moping, or something!"

My brother looked amused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you're always talking about the BAD things of things that are good [hello, Awkward Phrasing], and Michael mopes around because he doesn't have a girlfriend. Jenna's hormones are all I hear about when I decide to talk to her. 'Oh, the baby's making my hormones out of wack.' That's her excuse for acting like she's been having PMS all month! No matter what you say, David," I told him, shaking a finger at him, "not all pregnant women are crabby women. And Kayla's just plain depressed. She's sick, though, so maybe that's why she's acting so weird."

"Weird? Sick? What's wrong with Kayla?" David asked, looking concerned.

'Well, she's been throwing up a lot. She complains about how sore she is all the time, and my God! Now this girl eats like a pig!" [Oh goodness, what ever could be the matter?]

David looked worried, so I added, "Don't worry, she'll be OK! It's probably just the flu."

Looking relieved, he cried, "Oh, that's good!" [Because Mickey D's pays well, but not THAT well, know what I'm sayin'?]

"Yeah." I got up. "Well, I'm going to Kayla's house for a while. See ya."

When I got there, my friend was crying. She'd been doing that a lot, too. "What's wrong?" I cried. She took a deep breath. "Cassie, I'm scared," she whispered.

"Scared? Why?"

Kayla's body started to tremble. Finally she said "Oh God help me, I think I might be pregnant."

For a moment there was silence, then I laughed nervously. "Kayla, in order to get pregnant, you had to have had sex." [Don't you hate having to point out such obvious things to your friends?]

"I did!" she cried, pacing back and forth. "Cassie, help me."

I was in shock. "Who did you...do it with?"

"That's the worst part," she sobbed. "He cant help me if I AM pregnant. There's no way!"

I took her by the shoulders and shook her. [What, babies love that!] "Who, dammit!?" [This is all so very Lifetime I can't stand it.]

She looked at me with shame. "It's David."

I let go of her. "You've got to be joking!" She shook her head. "He's the only one I've ever slept with."

[Cassie's reaction is a little uncalled for, isn't it? I mean, the two did date for almost two years, David has a track record of screwing around, and Kayla was visibly upset over the boy just a month ago. Their tryst isn't really that shocking.]

"Wow, Kayla." My head was spinning. "What can I do?"

"Can you help me choose a pregnancy test?"

"Of course I will." I squeezed her hand. "We'll go now, if you want." She nodded.

I drove us to the nearest drug store and led Kayla to the isle where the at-home pregnancy tests were at. "Have you done this before?" she asked suspiciously. I bit my lip. "Yeah. I helped Jenna when she went for her test." [?]

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It wasn't a big deal. Forget about Jenna and concentrate on you."

"What kind of test do I need?" I tried to remember what kind Jenna got. "You should get something that gives fast results, is easy to take, and cheap." [Frema, M.D. at your service!]

"That's it?" I nodded. "No matter how reliable the test says it is, there's always the chance that it could be wrong. You'll need to see a doctor." [What am I doing working at a lab? I should REALLY be writing public-service announcements and commercials for First Response.]

We ended up picking the famous EPT test. The cashier looked disgusted with us when Kayla bought the item.

[When I bought my first test, I went to the local Wal-Mart. Afraid the clerk would take a similar attitude with me, I threw in an exra-large purple sweatshirt as a distraction. No, I'm not scared shitless at the idea of having a baby. I buy these all the time! Along with poorly made clothing! Which, in hindsight, probably left a much sluttier impression than the one I was trying to avoid. That sweatshirt was hideous.]

Back at her house, I was reading through the instructions when I thought of something. "Hey, Kay, how many days late is your period?"

"17." That's when I was positive she was pregnant. I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to worry her any further.

The test told her to urinate in a special cup included in the box. Then she was supposed to stick the applicator in the cup and leave it in there for 1 minute. If the stick turned pink, it was positive; Blue meant negative. [I should so patent this. Pink equals positive. Easy!]

A minute later, Kayla threw out the pink applicator. I tried to say something that would help. "It could be wrong," I suggested, but she wasn't listening. She had curled up on the bathroom floor and closed her eyes. "No, I'm pregnant," she whispered. "I can feel it. David's baby is inside me." [You can't tell I was a soap watcher, can you?]

"What are you gonna do?" I asked, kneeling beside her. "You could abort it, or give it up for adoption..."

"No," she stated firmly. "This baby is part of me. I want to keep him."

"How are you gonna tell David?"

"I don't know, Cassie. I really don't know."

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In the event my posts continue to be sporadic, have a wonderful holiday weekend. Also, thank your lucky stars you aren't a seventeen-year-old future baby momma with no boyfriend, no job, and no common sense. Unless you are, in which case, my sympathies.

Weight Loss Wednesday

Since my last weigh-in, the lab's client newsletter has been shipped off to the printer, I made a whirlwind trip to Chicago to assist with my friend Gina's first dance recital since opening up her own studio this summer, Luke has gone to and returned from South Carolina, and my body has survived various pokes and prods from three different doctors wanting to check my vision, update my "skincare recipe," and evaluate my special place. We also attended Luke's company Christmas party at a fancy schmancy restaurant in downtown Indianapolis, where in the presence of his coworkers I managed to splatter steak sauce all over my (of course) white blouse.

I also gained one pound.

LAST WEEK'S WEIGHT: 135
CURRENT WEIGHT: 136
POUNDS TO GOAL WEIGHT: 11

Is anyone really surprised here? I've abandoned the Y the entire month of December to inhale Steak 'N Shake burgers after eleven-hour work days like it's my job or something. (Eat burgers like it's my job, not work like it's my job. Work IS my job. Whatever, you know what I mean.) Confusing things even further is the fact that, on Monday, the Homie Don't Play That Nurse assisting with my annual exam weighed me in at 134. This indicates one of two things:

• My analog scale is no good, useless, absolute crap
• I gained three pounds in two days

It's totally the first one, right? Totally.

This sobering news was thankfully balanced out a couple of hours later after a follow-up phone call from the nurse, armed with the results of my latest cholesterol test. You'll be happy to know my LDL has dropped five points since February and my overall total is finally (just) under the two hundred mark. General Mills was right: eating Cheerios really CAN make a difference!

In other news, it's during times like these I'm truly grateful for weekly columns, because otherwise I might've been tempted to opt out of blogging for the remainder of 2006. As it currently stands, though, you can depend on at least two posts a week dealing with the contents of my caboose and the consequences of premarital sex. Still working on the master love song play list, but there are a few people I haven't heard from, and at least one of the play lists were incomplete, leaving me to search for song and/or artist information. My goal is to post whatever I have before Christmas. Seeing as the Word document storing all these cheesy gems is already six pages long, I'll post it as a PDF, but not before I curse out all of you who requested a master list in the first place. Seriously. That wasn't very nice.

Tragic Love Friday

OMG, I am so glad this week is over. Work is climaxing in regards to story load, but at least the end is near. Luke spent two days this week out of town and will embark on another excursion next Tuesday, a day trip to South Carolina, and works late hours himself in between. Our little four-foot tree was assembled over the weekend but as of today is still naked, its ornamental dressings tucked neatly away in tupperware bins currently camping out under the breakfast bar, and I haven't watched All My Children since the first of the month, which means I've missed all the drama surrounding Simone's death and most of the hype over daytime television's first transgender character, neither of which I'm losing any sleep over, seeing as Simone's been pigeon-holed into a slutty businesswoman stereotype for the last two years and the transgender guy is played by an actor who guest starred on the show a few months back as a mega-bucks recording artist named Zarf who read fortunes from tea leaves and framed his eyes with liner as a throwback to Ricky Vasquez from My So-Called Life. The guy was annoying enough in a temporary role; why couldn't they give this potentially ground-breaking storyline to a character already on the canvas?

Plus, it's barely 10:30 and I've already eaten my lunch.

Sometimes Tragic Love Friday is the only thing keeping me from ripping off my own earlobes.

Along that vein, can I just say your comments on these entries will go down in history as my absolute favorite? I so appreciate you patronizing me as I relive my obsession with these imaginary people, people I know so well I could swear I see them shopping in Super Target for flank steak and margarine tubs. To date this series (yes, series, there's a sequel, aren't you lucky?) is still the most significant writing project I've ever tackled, a writing project I'm extremely proud of, even with all its flaws, even though the plot is no better than the most predictable Harlequin romance novel. You guys rock for making my fourteen-year-old self feel so damn special.

But enough with the emotional sentiments. We have a one-night stand to resolve.

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CHAPTER THREE - KAYLA (CONTINUED)

When I woke up, he was gone. It wasn't even light out yet, and the fire had gone out long ago.

I slowly put on my shirt and robe, and then I ran upstairs to my room. I crawled into bed and then the tears began to fall. I pressed my face into my pillow and sobbed, my whole body shaking. I remembered the sincerity in his voice when David told me he loved me.

"I love you, too," I whispered.

Eventually I cried myself into a dreamless sleep.

[Don't feel bad, Kayla. My first time sucked, too. It was the summer before I left for college, with Nick, The Boyfriend Who Went Three Weeks Without Calling, the guy I couldn't seem to keep away from. Afterwards he walked me home and hung out for exactly ten minutes before he made some lame excuse about having to get up early the next morning even though he was unemployed. I remember sitting on our deck outside, holding my stomach and sobbing, praying to God Nick would come back and just sit with me a while, not to talk, but to remind me I wasn't alone, reassure me I hadn't made a mistake. That night I felt so alone.]

[Way to bring down Tragic Love Friday, Frema. Could I BE any more cheerful? Jeez.]

* * *

"Kayla? Kayla, honey, get up."

I opened my eyes. My mother was shaking me. "What time is it?"

"Almost 1:00." She put a hand on my forehead. "Are you feelin' OK? You're so pale."

I sat up. "I'm fine."

"Cassie just called. That's why I came up. She said she'd be stopping over in a while. If you're hungry, your dad just bought ham. We're going out for a while now. Will you be OK?" I nodded, and she left me alone. I heard the front door slam a few minutes later.

I climbed out of bed and stared into the mirror. Mom was right. My normal peaches-and-cream complexion was now pale, and my eyes were bloodshot from crying. [And her mother thought she was fine? What the hell was she smoking? Also, since when does sexual intercourse result in cause for dermatological concern?] "I look like a ghost," I said to myself.

After taking a shower and putting on some make up, I looked a little better. Maybe when Cassie came over, she wouldn't notice that something was wrong.

Fat chance. When she came over an hour later, she took one look at my face and asked, "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying to me. If you don't want to talk about it, then say so."

"Cassie, I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine. Wanna go see a movie? We can go see 'ACE VENTURA, PET DETECTIVE' at the dollar cinema."

[How sad is it that the only film I could think to advertise in my story was one that highlighted Jim Carrey talking with his ass cheeks?]

I smiled. [See, even Kayla's laughing at me now.] "Sure." I knew she wouldn't push me to say what's wrong. She knew I'd tell her when I was ready.

At the theater, I couldn't focus on the movie. I kept having flashbacks of the night before. By the time the movie was over, I was crying. People were giving me strange looks. Cassie took me outside. "What's going on? Why were you crying?"

"The - the movie was just so sad," I lied. She gave me a 'Kayla-you're-looney look. "Kayla, 'ACE VENTURA' is a comedy." [I'm thinking the ass-cheek bit tipped her off.] She folded her arms. "Now what is wrong?"

"Oh Cassie!" I started to cry and hiccup at the same time. My friend crushed me in a hug. "Talk to me, girl!"

I shook my head. "I can't. Not yet. I'll tell you when it doesn't hurt so much."

She nodded. "Just tell me: does it have anything to do with my brother?"

"Yes." She nodded again. "It figures. I bet that he'll come around soon, Kay. He can't be too serious about Jenna." [They're only ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED.]

"You're right," I answered sarcastically. "He got her pregnant because he had nothing better to do."

"It was probably a one-time thing." [I think Cassie's in a deeper state of denial than Kayla is.]

"No," I stated firmly. "David wouldn't use anyone." Last night came to mind. I blushed.

Cassie laughed and ran her fingers through her short dark brown hair. [I always pictured Cassie as a Jo look-alike from Melrose Place, and now you can, too!] "My brother's not a saint, Kayla. Believe me!"

"I know, but he's a good person." She hugged me again. "Yeah, but he makes mistakes. His biggest one was leaving you. Jenna will ruin him."

Silently, I vowed to save David from the clutches of Jenna.

He loved me better anyway.

[Yes, Kayla. He love you long time. For about eight minutes.]

* * *

David called me later that night. I knew what he would say to me before he said it. [More psychic abilities! That's the third character so far.] "Kayla, about last night--"

"Please don't say you're sorry," I interrupted. "I'm not."

"I'm not either. But...Jenna has my child, and I do love her. I can't leave her. Not now."

"I wont hold you to anything you did or said last night. I know you were drunk," I said softly.

"I wasn't that drunk. [Except for when you were so very, very drunk.] When I said I loved you, I meant every word. But I can't leave Jenna. She needs me too much."

[Because every woman dreams of a man who makes five bucks an hour handing out Big Macs and can't keep his mouse in the house.]

All my plans of taking David away from Jenna went down the drain. It would hurt David, and his daughter, too.

"Good luck with your daughter and...everything else," I said, tears in my eyes. "Do you have a name for her?"

"Mary Katherine." I smiled through my tears. "That's pretty."

"Good-bye, Kayla," he said. "Take care of yourself."

"I will. Good-bye," I said quickly and hung up the phone.

I cried all night because I knew it was really over.

END OF PART ONE

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Well, now that everyone's good and depressed, have a nice weekend!

Just kidding. Before you go, tell me your thoughts on the characters so far. What do you think of them? Who do you feel for more, Jenna or Kayla? Whose death would upset you the most?

Not that a major character dies in part two or anything.

I mean. Um. Yeah.

Apparently I Am A Big Fan Of Run-On Sentences

Shamelessly stolen from Liza, this meme asks you to post the first line from the first entry of each month of 2006. A year in review, blogger-style, another opportunity to shriek over my Sweet Valley High collection, and a little sumpin' sumpin' to hold you over until TLF. Awesome.

January 2, Belated Apology: The last three days have been a whirlwind of activity centered around cake testing, tuxedo shopping, invitation choosing, and birthday celebrating.

February 2, Figures...: ...that as soon as I wipe my hands clean of the whole meme thing because surely I have more sophisticated witticisms to share with you, the biggest inspiration to wannabe professional "blobbers" everywhere posts her first one.

March 1, Stewing: I have two incomplete drafts on two very different topics, topics that have absorbed the better part of my brain for days, but the right words haven't come yet. (Posted just hours before my Mommy Freak Out Of The Year.)

April 5, Shower The People You Love With Teenage Literary Drama Actually Geared Towards Pre-Pubescent Girls: Finally, the moment you've all been waiting for: the reveal of those individuals who fought long and hard for their chance to receive a small piece of Heaven that is Sweet Valley High.

May 3, Now You Know Where My Witty Sense of Humor Comes From: OK, so it's been a few days since I've posted, but between deciding which table is worthy of getting Jason Chambers at the reception and going back and forth with Luke as to whether a wedding party dance is really necessary and explaining to my brother that "Blow Job Betty" is not so much an appropriate song choice, there's been NO. FREAKIN'. TIME.

June 2, Oh Yeah, I Had A Honeymoon: I'm sorry, Internet.

July 3, Beachy Keen: Instead of working on my company's employee newsletter or the bajillion other things I have on my to-do list, I took the day off to savor a four-day weekend.

August 2, In Frema's Shoes, Part The First: Before Luke moved in with me last year, I knew I had to make some changes to my then-current state of living.

September 3, I guess the "watch what you say" disclaimer was a tad unnecessary.: Wanna know the perfect way to avoid embarrassment in the wake of an upcoming family reunion?

October 3, Bringing Stupid Back: After more than a week of soup, spaghetti, and take out, yesterday I decided to prepare an actual meal.

November 1, A Domain By Any Other Name...: Well, the name. my. BLOG! contest is officially over, and now I'm left with the momentous task of selecting a winner, eventually dumping Blogger, and moving on with the rest of my online life.

December 1, Tragic Love Friday: In the last week, I've fallen into bed past midnight almost every night after laboring over the creating and burning and addressing and mailing of seventeen super-delicious cheddar-cheesy CDs, avoided resuming regular healthful activity, inhaled half a Pizzeria Uno deep dish, and suffered from one nightmare in which the ghost of a little girl visits me in my dead grandmother's apartment to warn me about the end of the world.

That about sums it up.

Weight Loss Wednesday

Oh, how I love my new little Web site. For this Web site I would spoon in the mornings and blow out my hair and whisper dirty, inappropriate things I've never even uttered to my husband. TypePad and I, we are a match made in Heaven.

I almost love Weight Loss Wednesday just as much.

LAST WEEK'S WEIGHT: 137
CURRENT WEIGHT: 135
POUNDS TO GOAL WEIGHT: 10

When Luke read the numbers off the scale for me this morning, I rejoiced over a one-pound loss; it wasn't until typing this entry I realized last week's weigh-in was 137 and not 136 like I mistakenly thought, which means FOUR POUNDS have melted off my carcass since last month's Thanksgiving pig fest. And if I hadn't gone to Steak 'N Shake after retrieving Luke from the airport last night, it totally could've been three. But it was so worth it.

Perhaps even more impressive than the loss is that I've been able to do it while continuing to boycott the gym. My work projects aren't disappearing as quickly as I thought they would (really, do they ever?), so my return probably won't happen until sometime next week, right before Luke and I dash off to Merrillville and Chicago for the holidays, resulting in yet another week-long hiatus. So far the month of December has been anything but fitness-friendly, but somehow I'm still managing to produce respectable results. It's a Christmas miracle!

But enough about me. You want to hear more about the blog, don't you? At least, Kristie does. She posted a comment to yesterday's entry asking for more information about my decision to switch from Blogger to TypePad. It's a good question, too, especially with the launch of Blogger Beta, which allows users to customize their templates without having to dig through various lines of HTML.

I guess it comes down to your own personal comfort level. For me, ever since I started reading Amalah back in 2004, I've wanted a TypePad account. I liked that she had separate pages reserved for biographies and links and archives, and I liked that her blog didn't look as cookie-cutterish as some others I'd seen. If subscribing to TypePad was what it would take to create something similar, so be it. Plus, I had an embarrassingly hard time with Blogger. In addition to the frustration that often accompanied uploading pictures, I couldn't figure out how to create a banner with the proper specifications and was unable to customize little things like the color of the border of my profile picture because I couldn't locate the code. Even with the introduction of Beta, I'd had enough.

Compare it to dating a guy who constantly forgets to do little things like open your car door and chat with your mother before you take off for the movies and remove the cigarette out of his mouth before he tries to French you good-bye. Even if he promises to change, are you really going to pass up the opportunity to go out with someone who will not only ditch the cigarette but promise to never smoke at all? You have to shell out fourteen bucks a month to keep him clean, but still. Another case of "It's so worth it."

And so far, it has been. I was pretty confused in the beginning by all the different screen windows, but Lost A Sock had recently gone through this whole process herself and thankfully dealt with my vast bank of Stupid Questions with a patient and gracious hand. Since then, I've learned that many of Amalah's template options aren't standard TypePad features at all but clever CSS code she wrote her own damn self, but one thing at a time, my pretties. One thing at a time.

Now Luke Can Finally Have His Wife Back

Welcome to my new spot on the blogosphere! I've spent the last two months with my @$$ glued to the computer chair, importing entries, updating links, and reloading pictures so that I can move on with my life free from the shackles that bound me to Blogger for two and a half years. (If you come across entries that still feature Blogspot links, please let me know so I can smack myself in the forehead.) (And then fix the link.) I've also wasted numerous hours on numerous crappy banners until finally settling on the half-crappy one you see now. But I made it with my own two little hands, so in your FACE, Photoshop Elements!

You can also see I got m'self a new URL. Janet of A Slice of Pink is the big name. my. BLOG! winner, so Janet, drop me an e-mail and we can discuss the fabulous prize package soon to come your way. A package that will probably include a copy of my cheesy love song CD because I am going to milk that puppy for all it's worth.

(Funny story about the e-mail: Three months ago I started to register for one of TypePad's thirty-day free trials but stopped the minute they asked for a credit card number; apparently, though, the site had already captured my information, because when I registered for real, msfrema was "already taken." Thus, mrsfrema was born. It was kind of a pain but not a horrible way to go, seeing as I'm now a married woman. What a difference an "r" makes!)

Overall, I'm really happy with the look of the new site (though I might've gone a tad overboard with the categorizing) and hope you continue to hang out with me as your schedule permits. I don't have a lot of friends, and you don't want to be the one responsible for me crying into my pillow at night, do you?

[Edited to add: I just noticed that the comments have been wiped out from all but one of my Tragic Love Friday posts. CRAP.]

[Edited to add again: Problem solved! Turns out the little dashes I inserted after each TLF excerpt threw something off in the importing process. All I had to do was remove the dashes and reimport the entries.]

Tragic Love Friday

It's that time again, folks; time for another Tragic Love Friday. Since last week's installment received so few comments, I'm thinking the excerpt was just too damn long to get through. Good news, though; now that most of the exposition is out of the way, we can delve right into the juicy stuff.

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CHAPTER THREE - KAYLA

After an hour of tossing and turning, I climbed out of bed, giving up on the idea of sleep. Putting a robe on over my night shirt, I headed downstairs quietly, so as not to wake my parents, sleeping in the room next to mine. [Not very good planning on Mom and Dad's part, huh?]

It was dark downstairs. Knowing that I'd be up awhile, I started a fire in the fireplace [as opposed to where, the bathtub?], then headed in the kitchen. I sighed [!] as I put milk in a small pot and put it on the stove. Lately, many nights have been ending up like this. All I could think about what David and Jenna's relationship, and about the fact that in a few months, my ex-best friend would give birth to my ex-boyfriend's child. It was enough to put me in tears.

I had so many questions that I had to have answered. Like, why would David sleep with Jenna after only a few months, while he never made love to me during our year and a half together? [I'd like to know myself. David is obviously a horndog. They should have been %$@&ing like rabbits.] What did I do wrong? The biggest question, though, was the one to myself: How could I have missed the attraction between David and Jenna? Was I that blind?

[Another loose plot point. Kayla and David had already broken up. How could Kayla spot an attraction if she wasn't physically around? Also, who's to say David and Jenna even liked each other before that?]

I still couldn't answer that one.

We used to be so happy. I loved David with my whole heart and soul. Everytime I saw him with HER, I felt nauseous and it was hard for me to breathe. As much as I tried to hate him, I still loved him so much it hurt.

Then the doorbell rang. As I ran to the door, I glanced at the clock. 11:00. Who would be coming over so late? I opened the door, and I found myself staring into the eyes of David Donovan.

"David?" I whispered, motioning him in. I felt like I would faint.

He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled nervously. "Yeah. I hope I didn't wake you. I was just drivin' around and..." he blushed, saying, "...I ended up here."

I shook my head. "I was awake." He looked relieved and took a step towards me. "Great. Could I--" He didn't finish his sentence because he fell to his knees. "Are you OK? Why did you fall?" David didn't answer, only looked at me, and that's when I noticed the glassiness in his chocolate-brown eyes. After smelling the air around his face, I knew he was drunk.

I helped him to my couch. "I was just making some warm milk. You should have some, too, so you can get warm. It's a little chilly tonight, and you don't have a jacket."

"You only drink warm milk when you can't sleep. Is anything wrong?" he asked, looking concerned.

I smiled weakly. "I'm fine. I'll be right back with the milk." I hurried into the kitchen so he wouldn't see how badly I was shaking. I leaned against the wall, closed my eyes, and took deep breaths. Calm down, it's OK, I repeated silently. Nervous tears came to my eyes. David had caught me completely by surprise. How should I act? Why was he making me so scared?

Cool it! I yelled to myself silently.

I somehow managed to pour the milk without spilling any. Then I wiped my eyes, and putting a small smile on my face, brought David his milk. [Anybody starting to really hate the word milk yet? Milk milk milk.] I sat beside him, took a sip from my cup and gazed into the crackling fire.

"So," I said softly, "how have you been?" He set his cup on the coffee table. "I've been OK. Real tired, though. Work has been keeping me busy." He chuckled. "You know what? My mom is in Hawaii with a 'friend,' and will be there for 2 weeks."

I didn't laugh back. I knew inside that David was hurt when his mother went off on vacations with different men. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he replied. "It's her fault, not yours."

At that moment, I asked a question that hurt to say out loud, but I knew it would cheer him up. "How's the baby doing?"

It worked. David's face lit up instantly. "Oh, terrific! [I love this word. Too bad you only see it in Archie comic books.] Jenna had an ultrasound today, and we found out that the baby's a girl."

"I'm glad you're happy, Dave. I'm sure she'll be beautiful." I bit my lip.

"I'm not, Kayla."

"Not what?"

"Happy. I haven't been happy for a while." Pain was in his voice. I squeezed his hand. "Why not?"

"I--I feel trapped. Like I've gone somewhere, and I won't be the same because I've done things and gone to places that I shouldn't have." [Insert your own sexual innuendo here.] A tear rolled down his cheek. "I'm a failure, Kayla. I bust my butt all day at work, then I go to Jenna's house and make plans about the baby. If I'm lucky, I can say a quick hello to my sister and sleep for a few hours." He gazed at me sadly. "I've let down so many people, especially myself."

I shook my head. "You're wrong. Look at yourself! Do you know how I see you?"

"How?"

"I see you as a person who is loving, hard-working, and responsible. You work so hard to make sure your fiance and daughter will be well provided for." I smiled at him. "You're a great guy."

"How can you say such wonderful things about me when I've hurt you so much?" he asked me, his hand reaching to caress my face.

"You didn't hurt me on purpose. You're in love." [That's the way...it should be...]

"Things have changed, Kayla. I love Jenna, but I'm not IN love with her." He looked so sad. My heart was aching. "I'm so sorry, David."

"No," he corrected. I hurt you. I'M sorry. I was--I am--a fool." He leaned closer and kissed me softly on my cheek, then my lips.

I almost dropped my cup. David took it from my trembling hands and put it on the table. His arms were around me. "You're so loving, so kind," he whispered, his mouth on my neck. "Too good for someone like me."

"Oh David." My arms eagerly encircled him. "I've missed you so much." Then the words I'd been longing to hear him say were said. "I love you, Kayla."

First came off David's clothes, then my own.

That night, for the first time, David and I melted into each other, in body and soul.

I fell asleep in his arms.

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The high for today is twenty-six degrees and I STILL need a cold shower.

Two Thumbs Up

Last Friday, my good friend Lost A Sock tagged me for a "Favorite Things" meme, and since then I've been trying to pinpoint what those things might be. People are not things. Pastimes are not things. Possible careers and feel-good ideals are not things. We're talking about material items here, and it's hard to narrow them down to one short list.

But I'll try.

Liz Phair's Whitechocolatespaceegg. I have Luke to thank for introducing me to her music via a mixed tape back in college. Though she's currently sold her soul to commerical pop, at the height of her career she was both an edgy Sarah McLachlan and watered down Tori Amos, a musician who turned everyday ideas into larger-than-life entities, who could make you squirm uncomfortably in your seat with her casual use of the "F" word and bring tears from your eyes in the same three-minute span. This CD was produced after she'd given birth to her son, and her vulnerability is embedded in several of the tracks, particularly "Go On Ahead." Other songs of note include "Perfect World," "Baby Got Going," and "Uncle Alvarez," which reveals a new layer of meaning every time I hear it. If it's not in your collection yet, add it to your Christmas list. You'll thank me, I promise.

Edy's Berry Rainbow Sherbet. In effort to satisfy my sweet tooth without adding new layers of fat to my @$$, I turned to sherbet during my stint with Weight Watchers, and it did not disappoint. My current nightly ritual involves indulging in a bowl while watching TV, and since I'm not stingy with the servings, I often diminish my supply in less than a week, whether Luke has some or not. (He usually doesn't.)

ISO's Hydra Cleanse and Daily Condition shampoo products. This is the product of choice at my Chicago hair salon, and I don't blame them. It's light weight, smells good, and...it smells really good. I bought some last October when the economy-sized bottles were on a two-for-twenty sale and I kid you not, the stuff lasted until June. Also, did I mention the smell? So savvy. So pretty. So sophisticated! I can practically feel the positive self esteem that goes along with using a high-grade salon product soaking into my head.

New York and Company's stretch bootcut jeans. Mine are one to two years old, so they're not identical to the ones pictured on the Web site, but they're close. Whoever invented stretch jeans deserves a three-layer chocolate cake, because that material is crucial to fitting my gut into a size-ten waist. Plus, NY&C appears to be one of the few remaining stores that sell pant cuts in styles other than low rise, allowing me to keep the muffin top at bay a bit longer.

Clinique's Dramatically Different Moisturizing Gel. When I was younger, I despised lotion of any kind. Most of what I had been exposed to was thick, heavy, and greasy; for cryin' out loud, it wasn't until the end of my college days that I finally succumbed to the seduction of Bath and Body Works; I didn't even attempt a facial moisturizer until I started purchasing acne washes that dried out my cheeks, and it was just as I'd feared: thick, heavy, and greasy.

In 2004 a coworker introduced me to the wonder that is Clinique, and this gel is my favorite from their skincare line. It glides on with minimal rubbing and feels like silk on my face, so I don't mind spending twenty-three bucks for four-point-two ounces of it, even though I wouldn't dream of shelling out more than six for a brand at Target. Clever advertisers!

Quaker's Oatmeal to Go Bars. Remember last fall when I learned about my high cholesterol? It was about that time that I tried to make myself like oatmeal. I tried it with blueberries, I tried it with brown sugar, I tried it standing on my head, but no luck. What's there to like? The lumps? The bland favor? That was my opinion until my sister-in-law stuffed one of these into my purse one night on my way home; then, suddenly I loved oatmeal, so long as it was chock full of artificial flavoring and packaged in a darling square shape. I'll usually take one to work on the mornings I run out of time for breakfast. Banana Bread is the best.

The Complete Tales of Beatrix Potter. Both the stories and the artwork are timeless. I can't wait to read them to my own children.

Peace Frog pajama pants. They GLOW IN THE DARK, people. How cool is that?

For some reason I never wore pajama pants until college, and that was only because my sister bought me a Winnie the Pooh-themed pair as a going-away present (which are holding up fabulously, by the way, Sissy, thank you very much). As kids, if we wanted something warmer to sleep in, we usually just threw on sweatpants, which were probably a lot cheaper to buy in a house with five kids. Target sells them for seven bucks a piece. Now, though? Now I can't imagine my life without them. It'd be emptier somehow, less fulfilling, devoid of color. Just like a world without Kiefer Sutherland.

So, what do you think of my favorite things? More importantly, what are some of yours?

Weight Loss Wednesday

When I woke up this morning, I was not pleased about the arrival of Weight Loss Wednesday. When I got on the scale, I was on the verge of tears over it being Weight Loss Wednesday. However, after Luke read the numbers, I was suddently quite joyous because, hey! It's Weight Loss Wednesday! Now with actual loss!

LAST WEEK'S WEIGHT: 139
CURRENT WEIGHT: 137
POUNDS TO GOAL WEIGHT: 12

Is it wrong to want to celebrate this achievement with a banana split? I'm thinking yes.

Because things are so busy at work, I'm taking this week off from the Y to wrap up some loose ends and delight in an extra thirty minutes of sleep each day, so I'm both surprised and glad to see this change in plan hasn't materialized on the scale. It also helped that I depleted my corporate stash of pretzel logs and granola bars last week. (Did you know I can eat an entire bag of logs and four trail mix squares in one day? I so can.)

When I started this column back in November, I pledged to post a new picture of myself on the first Wednesday of every month. Since the last few weeks have pretty much canceled each other out, I'm going to save that portion of the program for the day I announce my first five-pound loss. Hopefully I can manage that before Christmas, but I'm already salivating at the mouth over plans to whip up my spinach-dip concoction next Monday, when Luke abandons me for a two-day business trip to Colorado. I'm not making any promises.

Today I received two more cheesy CDs, bringing my current grand total to ten. This means the last three days have featured a running musical soundtrack with song after song after song of delectable feel-good romance. By the time the swap is over, I fear I'll have digested so much cheese that I'll be forced to combat the constipation with liberal doses of Tori Amos and Eminem.

In addition to my grand weight-losing announcement, you'll also be happy to know the Coin Watch of 2006 was officially laid to rest last night, freeing me to take my rightful place on the first stall's porcelain throne once again. However, on my way into the lab this morning, I discovered an unwrapped maxi pad fastened to the sidewalk. At least it wasn't used.

How 'Bout Some Cheese With Your Lunch?

To date I have received eight cheesy CDs. I suppose it's safe to offer my own humble playlist to the world.

"Giving You The Best That I Got," Anita Baker

My love for Ms. Baker defies all logic and was conceived before my first visit from Aunt Flo but after my discovery of Fred Savage. I only know about four of her songs, but man, are they some passionate songs. My favorite one is "Just Because," but I never really nailed the lyrics. This one is much easier to understand and seemed to set the perfect mood for ultimate cheesy goodness.

"Always," Atlantic Starr

Who doesn't love this song? So hopeful, so positive, so optimistic about life and love. This was another song with a confusing line; instead of singing, "When you come around, you bring brighter days," I sang, "You bring back the days." It made total sense at the time.

At Luke's and my wedding reception, the D.J. played this song and preluded it by saying it would be the only slow song of the night. Apparently they do this to provide at least one full dance floor for the photographers.

"Biggest Part Of Me," Ambrosia

When I was fifteen, one of the contemporary pop stations aired a show called "Love Notes" from eight to midnight seven days a week; I succumbed to the song's power after hearing it three times a night every other day during the entire summer of Nick, The Boyfriend Who Went Three Weeks Without Calling, the summer of my first French kiss (which at the time was called wrapping; is this familiar to anyone else, or was the term confined to the south side of Chicago?) and my first "I love you," my first experience of a boy looking into my eyes and telling me I was beautiful. Resistance would've been futile.

"Sometimes," Britney Spears

This song is really sweet and reminds me of a time when Britney was more into choreographed dances highlighting hand-over-heart gestures than flashing innocent passersby with Paris Hilton outside California A-list night clubs. Did you know that I once dressed up as Britney Spears on Christmas Eve? It's true. My parents had purchased a karaoke machine and I knotted a bathrobe at my midriff and planted two pigtails on the top of my head to sing my own rendition of "Hit Me Baby, One More Time."

Anyway, I really like this song.

"Penny Lover," Lionel Richie

It's impossible to play this ditty without singing to it. From the doo doos to the whoas, every note is delicious. The lines often responsible for bringing my vocal chords to life are "Now my love is somewhere lost in your kiss / When I'm all alone it's you that I miss / Girl, a love like yours is hard to resist /Whoa Whoa Whoooooa."

You want to sing along, too, now, don't you?

"I Knew I Loved You," Savage Garden

On the night of the bachelor auction where I purchased Luke like deli meat at the grocery store, this was the first song we ever danced to. I remember writing the lyrics out and mailing them to him with a letter before I returned to Saint Joe to start my senior year. Savage Garden lyrics! Ack! But this song can still make me cry--especially when Darren Hayes starts screeching at the end.

"The First Time," Surface

The only reason I know about this song is because of VH-1. Back when they hosted Top Twenty Countdowns with celebrity hosts. I think the video featured an interpretive dance. Another tearjearker. (No thanks to the dance.)

"God Must Have Spent A Little More Time On You," 'N Sync

Yes, I've bawled over this one, too. Have you no heart at all?

"Far Away," Nickelback

I go back and forth over my decision to include this on my compilation. It's actually a great love song with little to no cheese factor and thus has no business on a CD inspired by the likes of Lionel Richie. However, they played this over a Zach and Kendall love scene on All My Children, and Zach is really hot with his shirt off. The fact that it reminds me of a soap opera hunk elevates it to at least slightly cheesy, right?

"Lucky One," Amy Grant

So happy! "Lucky One" makes me want to don a breezy white cotton dress and skip rocks on the beach. If I were any good at skipping rocks.

"Soul Provider," Michael Bolton

Believe it or not, this wasn't my first Michael Bolton pick. The CD originally featured "How Am I Supposed To Live Without You," but that put me over my space limit by like, eight seconds, and by that time it was too late to do any major revisions, so I switched the two out. I like it, but I'll forever be reminded of what could've been.

"Cuts Both Ways," Gloria Estefan

Again, not my first choice. "Here We Are" was another song sacrificed due to space constraints.

"Endless Love," Luther Vandross and Mariah Carey

When I first heard this back in 1994, I had no idea it was a remake. Upon hearing the original, I decided Luther and Mariah still did it better.

"No Place That Far," Sara Evans

Half the songs on this disc have the power to make me cry. This video zeroes in on two old people on the brink of extinction holding hands in a forest and celebrating their love. Remember that when you hear this song and just try to hold back the tears, Internet. Just TRY.

"I Just Can't Stop Loving You," Michael Jackson and Some Other Woman

The eighties was a classic time for duets, and everyone knows duets are an essential element to numerous cheesy love songs. For some reason, the female performer is not credited for her musical prowess.

"Saving All My Love For You," Whitney Houston

I'm going to ignore the fact that Whitney's trying to seduce a married man with promises of sex because this is an AWESOME ballad to belt out in the shower. Just ask my parents, as they often heard my performances while I washed up for school.

"Now And Forever," Carole King

This one really tugs at the heart strings, which is why I included it, not because I think it's cheesy. I first heard it in the opening sequence of A League of Their Own.

"You're In Love," Wilson Phillips

I can recall the first time I saw a Wilson Phillips video. I was ten, it was summer, and the chart topper of the moment was "Hold On." I loved this group so much. I even have a recording of me and my older cousin singing this very song. She fastened masking tape over the top slots of one of my singles so we could use it. I thought that was so cool.

I almost included "Impulsive," but this one seemed to better represent the spirit of the cheese.

"Separate Lives," Phil Collins and Marilyn Martin

"You have no right to ask me how I feel / You have no right to speak to me so kind"

After the first of many break-ups with Nick, I would listen to this song on my walkman and imagine him bumping into me on the street, his hand reaching to caress my face, his eyes silently apologizing for not being able to give me what I needed even though he wanted me more than anything else in the world. There really is something about your first love that takes your breath away and leaves you completely vulnerable, completely willing to compromise your own values just to be part of that chemistry a little while longer. This song reminds me of the attitude I wanted all of my ex-boyfriends to have, an attitude of I was wrong, but I love you and I'm going to fight for you, even if the words aren't actually there.

I have mixed feelings about this CD. I think it's a good representation of me, but there are so many other songs that deserved to be on there, too. But that's what's so great about a swap. Whatever your CD lacks is bound to manifest itself into the collections of other group members, so that together we make one complete whole. Or something.

Honorable mentions include but are not limited to:

"Midnight Train To Georgia," Gladys Knight and The Pips
"Near You Always," Jewel
"Too Many Walls," Cathy Dennis
"Color Of Love," Billy Ocean
"Save The Best For Last," Vanessa Williams
"Saving Forever For You," Shanice
"Can't Wait Another Minute," Hi-Five
"Breathe Again," Toni Braxton

Still working on the master play list. Still avoiding the gym like the plague. Am quite nervous about Weight Loss Wednesday.

Digging My Way Through The Love

Boy, when you people said you had the cheese, you weren't kidding! I'm in the midst of copying, pasting, and alphabetizing all of the participants' playlists into one master compilation, mostly because a few non-swappers requested it, but also because I'm curious to see which songs and artists we all kept gravitating to. So far I've been bombarded with duplicates from the likes of Air Supply, Bon Jovi, the Bangles, Billy Joel, and REO Speedwagon, and there's been multiple selections from Celine Dion, Gloria Estefan, Stevie Wonder, and of course, the inspiration for this whole shebang, Lionel Richie. If he knew about all the good work that's been accomplished in his name these last few weeks, I'm positive he'd manage a dance on the ceiling in our honor.

I hope to post the master list on Thursday, by which time I plan to have shared my own musical trainwrecks. But that's assuming I haven't drowned in the waves of paperwork swimming around on my desk, so keep your fingers crossed that I survive this work week unscathed.

In other news, the Coin Watch of 2006 is still going strong in the female administrative restroom. Everytime I pass through I enter the first stall with the intent to conduct business as usual until I see those fiesty flashes of metal glimmering from the bottom of the commode. Sometimes the pieces are stacked one on top of the other, like I originally found them, and sometimes they're side by side, huddled together, holding fast to their one inch of porcelain real estate. At one point I swear I saw two quarters, but seeing as the odds of one of my coworkers making change in the john are slim, and also seeing as the five hours of sleep I got last night after spending ALL SUNDAY wrapping presents and addressing Christmas cards might have contributed to a self-delusional mindframe, I let the matter go.

But you know I'll be checking tomorrow.

More Chances For Cheese!

People, I messed up. One of the swap's participants, Cora, didn't actually participate because I am a dork and totally forgot to assign her to a group. So, if there's anyone who meant to sign up for the swap but didn't, here's your chance to get your cheese on. Or, if there are any current swappers who wouldn't mind being part of a bonus group, let me know by Monday morning. All CDs for group number nine should be mailed out by Tuesday.

Let's get together and help a fellow blogger out, OK? I'm counting on you, Internet.

For even more cheese, this week's installment of Tragic Love Friday is below.

Tragic Love Friday

In the last week, I've fallen into bed past midnight almost every night after laboring over the creating and burning and addressing and mailing of seventeen super-delicious cheddar-cheesy CDs, avoided resuming regular healthful activity, inhaled half a Pizzeria Uno deep dish, and suffered from one nightmare in which the ghost of a little girl visits me in my dead grandmother's apartment to warn me about the end of the world. Good times!

And yet, YET, Tragic Love Friday awaits us. The antics of a teenage boy who possesses the ability to make female infatuation junkies fall madly in love with him even though he works behind the cash register of a Mickey D's must go on.

Spelling errors remain intact, commentary in brackets, yadda yadda yadda.

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CHAPTER TWO - DAVID (CONTINUED)

Talking with Cassie had made me late. My shift began at 9:00, and I arrived at 9:15. My boss, Mr. Steiner, was not a happy camper about this. He pointed to the clock. "You're late, David, and we've been real busy the last couple of hours."

"I'm sorry, sir," I said, hanging my head. "It won't happen again."

"That's what you said yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. It's getting old."

"I'm sorry," I repeated. "But I work late everyday, and I'm just so tired, and--"

"I know," he said, rolling his eyes. "You already told me the sob story about your pregnant girlfriend."

[Slamma!]

I felt my face grow hot.

"I want to make sure this won't happen again, so--"

"It won't," I interrupted. He glared at me. "Just to make sure, I'm docking you an hour's pay." [Is that even legal?]

"An hour? But--"

"Hey!" he yelled. "If you've got a problem, the door's over there."

I sighed. [The sighing returns!] "No sir."

"Then get to work."

[Doesn't this scene make a great argument for abstinence until marriage?]

I went to my register quickly. Damn him, I thought. He knew I needed every cent I made. He knows how bad I need this crappy job. I'd only lose about $5.00 from my pay, but I NEEDED that $5 dollars.

I kept busy at the register for a couple of hours with no problems from Steiner. But then I got a phone call.

"David!" My boss sounded mad. "Phone for you!" He thrust the phone in my hand, whispering, "every minute you're on the phone, you lose 10 minutes pay. [Pre-marital sex literally doesn't pay!] I'm timin' ya, kid."

Sighing [!], I picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"David, it's Jenna."

"Jenna, I can't talk right now. This place is too busy."

"But it's about the baby!"

Tapping my foot, I said, "What's going on?"

"You were supposed to the doctor a half an hour ago. Today is the day I have an ultrasound."

"Oh, Jenna," I moaned, "I'm sorry. I forgot. Steiner offered me some work, and I couldn't say no." I felt like kicking myself.

"Well," she replied, sighing [three sighs and counting!], "we're not too late. Just come pick me up and--"

"You don't understand! Steiner's in a bad mood. I can't leave."

"How am I supposed to get there?" she wailed.

"I don't know!" I cried. I did NOT have time for this today. "Take the bus."

"The Bus?!?!"

"Yeah. I'll call you later." I hung up before she could reply.

[At the time I wrote this, I was fourteen and thought Jenna was a big fat baby. Now? OMG, I would've been so pissed. So pissed!]

A few hours later, my shift was over. I cleaned up and headed for Jenna's house. She let me in without saying a word. She slowly sat down.

I joined her, & for a few minutes there was silence. I knew I had to make the first move. I cleared my throat.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so cold to you on the phone. And I didn't mean to forget about the appointment, either. It's just that I've been so busy with work, and I had school to worry about until yesterday. When Steiner told me about some extra work last night, all I thought was, 'great. That's more money for Jenna and the baby. That's the only thought that keeps me going when I want to collapse from lack of sleep. Can you understand?" I knew that she did when she hugged me tight and I felt the bulge of her belly press against me. It gave me a warm feeling. [No, not THAT kind of feeling, you sick perverts.]

[Also, I worked for McDonald's once, too, also in high school. For two months. I never collapsed from exhaustion, but I did eat a lot of free sundaes. Plus, if we worked the closing shift, we could take home the extra burgers and fries. That was fun.]

"I'm sorry, too," she whispered. "I didn't know I sounded so whiny on the phone. My hormones are acting crazy, and I took it out on you. I know that was wrong, too. You work so hard." Then Jenna's face lit up. "I've got news about our baby. Doctor Foremann did the ultrasound. Our little GIRL'S doing just fine!"

I grinned. "You mean it's a girl?"

She nodded. [Jenna's "urge" was right! She is so psychic!]

"That's great!!" I felt like I was on Cloud 9. "We should start choosing some names for her."

"OK. I'll go get a pen and some paper." She went into the kitchen, and when she returned, both items were in her hand. She sat on the floor so she could write on the coffee table. "Shoot."

"Candy," I offered. Jenna wrinkled her nose in distaste. "That's a name for girls with zero brain cells."

"Just put it down." Reluctantly she wrote it down. "I think the name Michelle is beautiful." She wrote it on the paper, even though I shook my head. "It's too common."

For a half an hour we came up with names, but nothing we could actually name our daughter. I wanted names that were cool but not common.

"How about Mary?" I asked. [Because nobody in the world is named Mary.]

My girlfriend looked thoughtful. "Mary. That's nice. A lot of girls are named Mary, though."

"That's OK. We'll just add another name to it. How about Mary Ellen?"

She shook her head. "Mary Anne?" [My Baby-sitters Club obsession is showing here.]

"Nah." We were quiet for a minute.

"I know." Jenna looked pleased. "Mary Katherine."

I smiled. "That's not half bad, Jen. It's even kinda pretty."

She clapped her hands and threw her arms around my neck. "Then Mary Katherine it is. Oh, David! We're gonna be so happy!" She tried to kiss me, but it was interrupted by a huge yawn from me. "Sorry. I guess I'm just tired."

"You work too hard," Jenna complained.

"Well, momma, that's life."

"Yeah, well, sometimes you need to rest, and spend some time with the people who love you, who need you." She was sounding like a spoiled child!

I took deep breaths. Her hormones are crazy, she's tired, and she's at an emotional time, I told myself. Then I sighed out loud [number four!], and got up. "I'm exhausted, momma. I've gotta get some sleep."

"Fine." She went and opened the door for me. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah." I hurried to my car and drove home before I fell asleep at the wheel. I didn't fall asleep right away, though, so I had the chance to mull over a few things. Like my relationship with Jenna.

All our friends thought we were doing great, and even Jenna and I hadn't talked about it, but I knew there were problems with us. We didn't have a lot of time for each other anymore, and when we WERE together, we often fought or argued about little things. Even though I'd never say it to anyone, I was beginning to doubt that things would be OK. I mean, any couple faced with our situation would have problems. But I told Jenna I wanted to marry her! How can I? Things are changing so fast, and I hate change. But the fact is that I don't love Jenna the same way anymore. A few times, I'd considered leaving Jenna and working child custody arrangements out with her.

But my daughter deserved better. She deserved a mother and father who were MARRIED. And in my own way, I did love Jenna. She would never know how many doubts I had.

Life sucks, I thought to myself before my eyelids closed.

***

When I woke up, it was already eight-thirty at night. I got out of bed, feeling better than I had in days. I guess getting sleep helps.

In the kitchen on the refridgerator, there were 2 notes. The first was from Cassie:

DAVID,

MICHAEL CALLED AT FIVE. YOUR BOSS CALLED TOO AND SAID SOMETHING ABOUT GETTING OVERTIME. - Cassie

The other one was from Mom:

DAVEY,

I'M GOING TO BE SPENDING TIME WITH a FRIEND FOR 2 WEEKS IN HAWAII. I'LL CALL YOU IN A FEW DAYS. Some grocery MONEY is in MY top DRAWER. CASSIE KNOWS. SMOOCHES! - MOM

[Yes, I really alternated between sentence and upper case.]

I scowled. Screw you, Mr. Steiner. You, too, Mom. In her drawer, there was $200. I took 50 of it and called Michael. He answered on the first ring. "David?" [Another psychic!]

"Yeah, it's me. Listen, do you want to do something tonight? I've got a full wallet and nothing to do."

"Sure. What do you have in mind?" [I don't think straight men should say this line to other straight men.]

"I'll tell you when I see you. I'll pick you up in 10 minutes."

It took me 20 minutes because I stopped at 'LARRY'S LIQUORS' on the way. Michael grinned as he climbed in and saw 3 6-packs of beer. "How'd you get it?" he asked. "I didn't know you had a phony ID."

"I don't. I slipped him a 20, and he sold it to me." [Ah, the good old days...]

I drove us to Lookout Hill, a place where people get screwed, drunk, and do anything else that adults tell us to say no to. [I totally stole this hill from Sweet Valley High's Miller Point, where Todd and Elizabeth went to kiss each other on the cheek and talk about The Oracle.]

We stayed there for an hour, and in that time I had 4 beers, while Michael only had 2.

I was already high-strung that night; the beer didn't help any. I got drunk real fast. That's probably why I told Michael, in great detail and using hand motions, all about my problems with Jenna. [Way to keep the drama to yourself, buddy.] When I was done, I slumped in the driver's seat. Michael let out a low whistle. "Wow. I didn't realize that things with you and Jenna were so bad."

I closed my eyes and shrugged my shoulders. [What, no sighing?] "I don't know what what went wrong." [The condom, David. The condom is what went wrong.]

"Maybe it's less complicated than you think."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...maybe you're still in love with Kayla," he answered softly.

"What?!" Michael was confusing me.

"Maybe you still love Kayla," he repeated.

"You spent a year and a half with her, and you're STILL not sure why you broke up with her." He lapsed into silence.

My thoughts were spinning, and my mind went back to a time when everything I ever wanted was in Kayla. She used to be my life; my love. Her smile could melt my heart. We were so happy.

[Nothing says "I love you" like breaking up with your soul mate and boinking her BFF.]

You're with Jenna, now, I told myself, but my old emotions were brought up when Mike mentioned Kayla's name. Her image was now burned on my brain. Her long golden hair being slightly blown by the cool breeze. Her deep blue eyes so clear it was like looking into the ocean. Her small, petite frame.

I took a deep breath. "I think I better drop you off now, Mike."

He nodded understandingly. "Me, too." [Oh, tricky Michael!]

After I took him home [these innuendos just get pervier and pervier, don't they?], I drove around for a while, feeling guilty because I knew where I'd end up.

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Well, friends, there you have it; the "baby names, coveting, and underage drinking" I promised you last week. This segment was way long but necessary to properly set you up for next week, when David and Kayla...well...you'll just have to wait and see.