I got my gun belt Wednesday and immediately tried it on. I giggled as I looked in the mirror. It will be perfect! The only things I'm missing are a beard, a skinny cigar, and the leather vest he wears under the poncho (which still has not arrived). Only my husband will know that I'm not exactly authentic. No one else at the party are Clint Eastwood freaks. Well, maybe Leigh since I talked to her about it. I can't wait to see her and Ken's costumes, either. They're being Regan and the priest from the Exorcist.

I'm already thinking of what to be next year. I kind of want to revive the pimp costume. I had a lot of fun with that one. I even did "the walk" and said "Where my bitches at?" and "Bitch better have my money." And I still lost to a store-bought costume at my last job. Losers. Just because I don't kiss ass. Or, maybe it wasn't PC to let a pimp win. But, I'm not bitter. (They also gave me a piddly 57 cent an hour raise after an excellent 2-year review, prompting me to pack up my desk and blatantly send resumes on the company fax. That's another story.)

I was wondering yesterday just what is wrong with me. It is a known fact that I don't like people. I rarely speak to my neighbors, prompting them to think I'm a bitch (which I am). When Jeff's friends come over, I'm usually on the computer or watching TV in the bedroom. Most of the time, it's to avoid watching sports, wrestling, or Wheel of Fortune, which I loathe. Sometimes it's because some of his friends get on my damn nerves. And at work, I keep my door closed, even though I share an office with someone. That is partially because my office is near the entrance to the building, the printer room, the conference room, and the guard's office - all of which can get loud. Another reason is to avoid the distraction of people walking by. Only a select few come in to talk to us, and that's fine by me. I don't bother them, so don't bother me.

There are a few people who dislike me just because. I have hypothesized that it's because I'm white, blonde, cute, and friends with mostly men in the office. The culprits are black females. I don't understand this, because I'm friends with a number of black men and women in the office. I talked to 2 black women about this, and they said it's their problem. I guess it is. They like to call my office mate Uncle Tom just because he has a lot of white friends. Geez, grow up.

This reminds me of my family, who dislike anyone different from them. My Dad once told me I was pretty smart for a woman. Gee, thanks. I wasn't sure if I should thank him or punch him in the arm. I take what he says with a grain of salt. He's mostly harmless, and very amusing. It seems he'll say something just to get us to laugh.

The last time I visited my Dad, he sent me home with a rifle. I was so excited! I called Jeff to tell him Dad gave me a rifle. He said, "for what?" I said, "for me!" He usually sends me home with some sort of weapon, usually knives. Gotta love that! He gave me a .38 revolver for my 21st birthday. And, as sort of a family tradition, I always carry a pocket knife. Yes, I was raised by men. I think this is what makes people think I'm a bitch. For a man, my behavior is assertive. For a woman, well....