First Kiss

I know I have already written about my first kiss. But to be 100% honest it wasn’t exactly my FIRST kiss. It was my first grown up kiss, my first “French” kiss but it wasn’t my actual true life first kiss with a boy. I was recently reminded of this fact by the man who actually DID give me my first kiss. As we reminisced about that fateful event the memories came flooding back and I thought I would chronicle them in case I become fuzzy on the details again in another 17 years.

He was literally the boy next door. Or rather, if you want to nitpick, he was the boy three doors down. After moving back to California the summer before the 7th grade I suddenly found myself friendless and bored. Lucky for me there was a man three doors down who was divorced but had two children who came to spend the summer with him, a boy and a girl who flanked me in age, one year older and one year younger respectively.

Instantly we were inseparable. The girl (we’ll call her T) became like a little sister and, having no siblings of my own, I enjoyed hanging out with her and gossiping about boys and clothes and music. It did not escape my attention that her brother (we’ll call him J) was in fact a boy, and also older, and also he was apparently as interested in me as I was in him. Even blondes can tell those types of things. I’m just saying is all.

I’m not sure how or when it happened… But at some point we became less of a threesome and more of a twosome with a little sister tagging along. They had a mattress in one of their bedrooms which we used to lean against a wall and use as a sort of make-shift slide and general play thing. T would be happily playing and J and I would be much more interested in hiding between the wall and the mattress talking and generally enjoying the new feelings that hormones and youth provided.

One day T called me on it. I can’t remember the exact details of the conversation but it was along the lines of her asking me if I was interested in her brother, me adamantly denying it (I was playing it cool), and her making me promise to never, EVER, date J because that would be “gross”. I remember her use of the word “gross” as clear as day. I think that was the first time I noticed that I had reached the age of boy crazy in earnest (that boy is cute) while she was boy crazy in the abstract (Val Kilmer is cute). But I did promise her I wouldn’t “go out” with her brother and a promise is a promise after all.

The summer progressed as these things do and the three of us made a merry band of thieves. And then one summer night as I went to leave their home for my own, J offered to walk me. A mighty three houses down. The adult me would have seen through that offer in a moment. The teenager in me thrilled at the excitement of being alone with a boy. I remember walking down our street holding hands when he suddenly yanked on my arm to make me stop walking. A move that while not subtle, certainly had the desired effect.

As we stood there in the road, and I grew increasingly embarrassed, he asked me for a kiss. A casual and yet fully loaded question given our 12 and 13 year old ages. I’m pretty sure I muttered something like “ok” or something equally cool and nonchalant. I’m fuzzy on who kissed who after that. I believe he kissed me, hastily, and on the cheek. I don’t recall if I kissed him back. I do remember all of a sudden being supremely nervous and that I practically sprinted home. I'm also fairly certain I was an attractive shade of redish-purple.

My first kiss. That boy J is now a man of 30. We lost touch for many, many years when things like high school and distance and a family tragedy (his) got in the way. I found him though, a few years ago, after years and years of searching, thanks to MySpace. I actually found them both. T is a mother of two adorable boys and lives mere moments from my house though we haven’t been able to get together yet for a much needed reunion. I am a bad friend it seems.

And J. I could list all the minute details I know of his life now but really all that matters is I feel like I’ve found an old friend. After that summer we stayed in touch for years, always getting together when they were in town. One summer they came on a church run youth summer retreat with me. And once we both got to high school we kept in touch via phone, sharing dating trials and tribulations. I always felt a little twinge when he told me about the latest girl and always felt a smidge guilty when discussing my latest boy. It was like we were sullying the memory of that innocent kiss somehow by moving on with life. And then somehow we just stopped calling, stopped talking, and then we were adults and out on our own with lives and jobs and school.

But now that we are both adults we can laugh at the kids we were, at the awkwardness we caused, and now we both (I think) can look back on that summer with something like nostalgia.

To tide you over

I know this isn't as good as a wedding picture but one of the girls at work FINALLY got around to sending out the pictures from our holiday party that was back on December 6th. I WAS going to give her a hard time about taking so long but thought better of it. Pot, Kettle, Black and all that.

Anyway, I thought this was a cute pic. AND I'm at least 10 or 15 pounds lighter in the this pic than I was on my wedding day so... Yay me! Diet starts on Monday, BTW, as soon as I get back from my long holiday weekend!

Thank God that’s over!

I have officially been married for FIVE WHOLE DAYS and so far so good! :D

TheBoy and I went up to Tahoe a little early and hung out for a day so we could relax before all the craziness began. Since practically the entire state of California is on fire it was pretty smoky up there! At the rehearsal dinner we were literally like 10 feet from the lake and could barely see the water at some points! But luckily for us the wind shifted or something and it was clear and beautiful on the lake for our wedding Friday. Maybe that whole saying about weather always cooperating with brides is true. At TheBoy’s brother’s wedding a few years ago it was cold and foggy all morning and then about an hour before the wedding the sun came out and shined on them through the entire ceremony!

Yes, Shawn, there will be pictures (also... ahem... blog!). Once I get the DVD thingy from the photographer I’ll post one or two. Sadly I pretty much hate all the pictures but as a wise friend pointed out, both TheBoy and I hate having our pictures taken in the first place so we were sort of doomed from the start. That, combined with the fact that I hated my dress, and it didn’t fit right and I’ve gained about 20 pounds in the last year due to stress alone… Really the whole picture thing was destined for disaster. And seriously? If one person comments on here anything along the lines of “all brides are beautiful” I might vomit. That’s like saying all babies are cute. People say it but we all know deep down that some kids are just plain funny looking.

The rehearsal dinner was awesome. A majority of our guests were already in Tahoe so we got to party with everyone two nights in a row! I do love a good party. TheBoy and I did discover one downside to being the bride and groom however. Everyone wants to drink with you! I think I literally had about 20 drinks. At some point in the evening TheBoy’s brother started following me around, taking drinks from my hand, and in one notable incident, talking me down from the ledge that would have been my umpteenth tequila shot. He made a valid point that I wouldn’t want to be hung over for the wedding the next day… Sadly I think he was already two or three drinks too late at that point! But it was a noble effort none the less.

Despite being more hung over than I’ve been in YEARS the actual day of the wedding was awesome. Very relaxing and low key. After having our hairs done, the girls and my mom and I returned to the hotel where an also hung over TheBoy went and got me some greasy Chinese food and we sat down at the pool for a couple hours with some people before we had to all go start getting ready. No one got boat sick that I know of and I only tripped twice (once I had a little help from TheBoy who stepped on the back of my dress!) so I would say the wedding went off without a hitch. And even though I was SURE I wouldn’t need water-proof mascara because I was SURE I wouldn’t cry, I’m glad I bought some anyway because I could barely get my vows out! Also? Whose idea is it for brides to carry flowers? My hands were trembling so badly I had to push the whole bouquet into my stomach to stop it from shaking! Always a good look.

Anyway, I’m glad to be back and I’m happy that things can now start getting back to normal and I can focus on other areas of my life now that the whole wedding planning thing is behind me. It’s amazing how many things fall through the cracks when you have to focus on a wedding. As calm and relaxed as I was there were still a lot of things I had to focus on. I can’t imagine how those bridezillas keep their sanity! It was a fun party and we had a good group of guests. Aside from a few small dramas everything went as well as I could have hopped for!

And I am SO EXCITED to finally be married!

We did it!

I am officially Mrs. TheBoy! Day 3 of being married is going great. :D

Wedding went off perfectly smoothly. Loads of people cried, including yours truly! I was so sure I wasn't going to cry I ~almost~ didn't even buy water proof mascara! Good thing I did.

Details later! And photos if you are lucky!

Goodbye G

What couple picks a break up song for “their song”? Perhaps I should have seen it for a sign? But we loved it. Every time the song would come up we’d turn our speakers as loud as they’d go and sing along like idiots. We thought it was funny. It was unique. It was us.

(spoken)
Girl you know we belong together
I have no time for you to be playing
With my heart like this
You’ll be mine forever baby, you just see

We belong together
And you that I’m right
Why do you play with my head,
Why do you play with my mind?

I knew something was up by the third time you hit rewind on the cassette tape playing in my car. We were sitting in the parking lot behind a Hollywood Video. I had driven you back to your car which had been parked there earlier prior to yet another beginning-of-summer party. We had just ended our junior year of High School and were giddy with the feeling of FINALLY being seniors. High School was almost over and we were invincible that summer. Parties and beach bonfires, crazy car races through back roads in the dark and way, way too much cheap beer. But on this night, instead of just hopping out of my car with a quick “later” and that famous grin… you lingered. We talked about our mutual friends, about our plans for the coming summer, about music.

Said we’d be forever
Said it’d never die
How could you love me and leave me
And never say good-bye?

“This is my favorite Boys II Men song” you said as you reached over to rewind the song the first time. As it happened to be one of MY favorite songs also I consented to listening to it through a second time. While the first time the song played we had laughed and joked together, the second time we were silent.

Girl I can’t sleep at night
without holding you tight
Girl, each time I try
I just break down and cry
Pain in my head
oh I’d rather be dead
Spinnin’ around and around

“What ever happened to us last summer?” Though you asked this question softly and seemingly out of left field I knew instantly what you were referring to. The previous year, our sophomore year, we had a class together. We quickly went from casual acquaintances, friends of friends, to constant companions. We would sit together in the back of our chemistry class, cracking jokes and goofing off, we would skip class together and hang out in the parking lot (you were older and already had your driver’s license), we would seek each other out at lunch, you attended your first ever school sporting event because I invited you to watch me cheer. Once your mom let you drive me home when she came in the car to get you after school. I remember that, her sitting in the back seat and us in the front, feeling so grown up.

Girl, I know you really love me,
You just don’t realize
You’ve never been there before
It’s only your first time

Although we’ve come to the end of the road
Still I can’t let you go
It’s unnatural, you belong to me, I belong to you
Come to the end of the road
Still I can’t let you go
It’s unnatural, you belong to me, I belong to you

Everyone thought we liked each other that year. Honestly on my end I just saw you as a friend, my buddy, we had good times together. You made me laugh. But when anyone asked us if we were “together” we would just laugh. No way. Just friends. I guess we were an anomaly, a teenage girl and a teenage boy who could hang out without the complications of hormones. In our last day of regular classes, before finals and freedom of summertime, you came running up to me in the hall before class. There was a big party that night, some classmate’s parents were going to be out of town and the requisite cheap beer and stolen alcohol from someone’s parents had been procured. Would I go with you? You always had this charming grin. But back then I was a “good girl” and I didn’t make too many appearances on the party scene. And I had plans already for that night. I told you I’d see. We exchanged phone numbers. I remember thinking it was odd that I hadn’t had your phone number before.

Maybe I’ll forgive you, hmm
Maybe you’ll try
We should be happy together
Forever, you and I

I never called. You never called. We went on with our separate summer plans. Mine was full of church retreats, mission trips, cheerleading camp and countless movie nights. Yours was filled with parties, under-age drinking and too many lazy days by the pool. When we met up again in the fall for the beginning of our junior year I remember being jealous of your summer. The restrictions of trying to be what everyone wanted me to be were getting hard to bear. I was ready to let my hair down. Neither of us mentioned the fact that I had blown you off, though I hadn’t forgotten. To be honest I had started to doubt your sincerity when you told people we were just friends and nothing more. I wasn’t sure how to deal with the knowledge that you wanted to be more, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be more. That night in the car I knew it for a fact.

Girl, you love me again like you loved me before
This time I want you to love me much more
This time instead just come to my bed
And baby just don’t let me, don’t let me down

“I’m not sure what happened I guess. Maybe it wasn’t our time?” I tried to make it into a joke but my heart was beating so hard I was sure you could hear it. You reached over and hit the button to rewind the song once more – I thought a fourth time listening to the same song was a little excessive but I didn’t say anything. In fact, I think I was holding my breath. “Is now our time?” Something in that fourth repetition, or maybe the slight delay in my answer, gave you the courage you’d been searching for and you leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t a great kiss, I can admit that now. But it was sweet and you were so earnest. I liked you so much. By the end of that night the kissing was better and we had pretty much established ourselves as a new couple.

Although we’ve come to the end of the road
Still I can’t let you go
It’s unnatural, you belong to me, I belong to you
Come to the end of the roadStill I can’t let you go
It’s unnatural, you belong to me, I belong to you

“I wanted it to be that song” you said, for our first kiss. “I’ll forgive you for taking so long to come around” you said. There was an emotion in your voice when you said that last bit about forgiving me; it was a little bit angry, a little disdainful. I should have paid more attention to it but I was caught up in the excitement of it all. Soon we were joined at the hip. It was like the before only better. We laughed together, we learned together, we loved together. Almost from the beginning there was talk of forever. What are the odds of high school sweethearts ending up together? Something like one in a million I’m sure. We were sure we were destined to be that one. It was our senior year and we were on top of the world.

(spoken)
Girl I’m here for you
All those times of night when you just hurt me
And just run out with that other fella
Baby I knew about it, I just didn’t care
You just don’t understand how much I love you do you?
I’m here for you

We weren’t without our dramas though. That first year was wonderful. At some point in that first year you surprised me with a trip to a local jeweler. You wanted me to have a ring. Something to wear that indicated I was yours. It was a placeholder you said, for the wedding band I’d one day wear. We asked the girl at the store what the stone was for June, the month we counted as the start of our relationship. She told us it was a ruby and so we selected the daintiest ruby and diamond channel set band. I waited outside while you paid so I could manage some element of surprise for the gift I basically picked out. I learned after a few months of wearing the ring that June’s stone is a pearl and that July’s stone is the ruby. I never told you we had been wrong, I don’t know if you even know now, but rubies became our thing. I wore a red dress to the prom that year because of it. For my birthday a few years later you gave me ruby stud earrings.

I’m not out to go out and cheat on you all night
Just like you did baby but that’s all right
Hey, I love you anyway
And I’m still gonna be here for you ’till my dying day baby
Right now, I’m just in so much pain baby
Coz you just won’t come back to me
Will you? just come back to me

Your ring was stolen. Along with the earrings and pretty much every other piece of jewelry I owned. I hadn’t worn it in years. I slipped it off that night after I caught you with your hands all over some girl at my friend’s birthday party. Even though we held on to our sham of a relationship for three months after that I think I finally knew that this time, when you humiliated me in front of all of my friends, that it would be over for good. But even though things ended badly for us I still have a soft spot in my memory for all the good times we had. And I thought I would always have that ring as a reminder of how much you loved me then, how naive and young we were and how much hope there was behind that gesture. I’m sorry that it is gone. Given that we have not remained friends I feel like my last link to you is gone and with it my last link to the girl I used to be.

(lonely)
Yes baby my heart is lonely
(lonely)
My heart hurts baby
(lonely)
Yes I feel pain too
Baby please
This time instead just come to my bed
And baby just don’t let me go

Do you remember those trips we would take to Don Pedro with your cousins? I remember cruising the lake at sunset, blaring Bonny M (you and your crazy Euro pop music) and drinking beers your cousins were nice enough to not notice we had pilfered from their cooler. I remember waking up in a tent that was easily 100 degrees and running laughing to jump in the lake to cool off. I remember teasing you about pitching it the night before in the darkness, choosing the flat spot in the open over the slightly rocky spot in the shade because you were too lazy to move a few rocks. I remember racing your cousin on her jet ski and how I was terrified of going that fast. You promised me I’d be safe, but then I wasn’t… my first and only concussion. Do you know that I still refuse to ride on a jet ski to this day? Your legacy. I remember trips to your god father’s cabin on Clear Lake. The night we thought it would be fun to try tequila shooters and I tried out my culinary skills by cooking you dinner. You never liked my cooking. Did you know that I started a catering company? And that people now rave about my cooking?

Although we’ve come to the end of the road
Still I can’t let you go
It’s unnatural, you belong to me, I belong to you
Come to the end of the road
Still I can’t let you go
It’s unnatural, you belong to me, I belong to you

I knew there were other girls. I ignored the nasty looks from the girl you had a crush on in high school. You were too foolish to realize she only wanted you then because you had decided to stop mooning after her and had found a new girlfriend. Did you know how much you hurt me every time you said how beautiful she was? How much it stung when you would compare me to her and I always came up lacking? I don’t know if you two routinely snuck around behind my back or if it was just that one night I followed you two from your friend’s pool into the main house and saw you close his sister’s bedroom door. I was so young then and I had no idea people could hurt that much. I knew about a few other girls too, the older sister of a classmate and a girl from your night school college program. I also know how many girls you made up. Did you like hurting me? You were jealous. At first I was flattered. Then annoyed. Then angry at the injustice of you, the unfaithful one, being jealous of me, the faithful one.

(a cappella)
Although we’ve come to the end of the road
Still I can’t let you go
It’s unnatural, you belong to me, I belong to you
Come to the end of the road
Still I can’t let you go
It’s unnatural, you belong to me, I belong to you

When people ask, I tell them I was with my high school sweetheart for almost five years. In reality we were officially together for four years and eight months, though the last three months we hardly spoke. We broke up three times before the final time. If you subtract the time we spent apart during break ups I imagine we were really only “together” for four years. But those four years, which spanned the ages of 17 to 21, were a time when I really grew into my own. I laid the foundations to become the woman I am today and for your part in the process I will always be grateful.

Goodbye.

Greatest Survey EVER

Thanks to Kate for giving me something to blog about when my brain has pretty much turned to mush in the week before my wedding!

If you were God for a day, what would you do? I have NO idea. I’m not sure I want that kind of responsibility!

If you could be the parent of one famous person, who would you want it to be? Hm. Someone with a lot of money that could take care of me in my old age! Like Britney. Never mind that she’s only like 4 years younger than me… that girl needs a hug!

What was the last thing you regret buying? I don’t suffer from buyer’s remorse too often… But I do suffer from eater’s remorse… So maybe that Taco Bell burrito I bought on my way home from my (soon to be) Sister-in-law’s a few weekends back. My ass surely didn’t need it!

There's a monster in your closet. What do you do? Make sure it isn’t wearing my clothes in there!

If you could bring back one person from the dead, who would it be? Luckily I haven’t really had too many people close to me die. And those that have passed on lived full lives. “To every thing there is a time and a purpose…” and all that.

What are 3 things you'd like to learn to do? Play the guitar, ride a bike, and invest.

What is your favorite kind of cheese? I am an equal opportunity cheese lover. Sadly it doesn’t love ME as much as I love IT. Don’t things always work that way?

If you had a truth serum, who would you give it to and what would you ask? I’m not sure I would want to know anything I had to use truth serum to force out of someone!

How do you know when you're in love? When you think of them and their happiness before your own.

Why do you have a cell phone? All the cool kids were getting them.

What do you consider the most important invention? Kate said bras which made me laugh out loud! I’m going to go with the Internet (thank you Al Gore).

How would you spend your ideal day? Sleeping in with TheBoy, making a huge breakfast and drinking mimosas outside on a warm summer morning, followed with a bit of wakeboarding on Lake Shasta, a bonfire and BBQ in the evening with some good friends and good tequila, and sleeping soundly like only a full day in the sun can make me do. (And well a few other things that it isn’t polite to announce to the internets at large – ahem.)

Why are a fly and a tree alike? They both have great views of the world? Is this a trick question?

What is too serious to be joked about? Rape.

3 words to describe your personality: Loud, loyal, honest.

3 words to describe your looks: um… short, blonde and… cute? I guess. People always say that. “Tiff is cute.” Just once I’d like to be “stunning” or “sexy” – le sigh.

Who would you choose to be shipwrecked on a deserted island with? I know I should say TheBoy and all but really if I HAVE to be shipwrecked I’d pick some Navy Seal or Marine or… MacGyver or something. Someone who can get my ass OFF the island!

What is your idea of a perfect romantic evening? Fantastic food, great wine, sitting outside by a fire… Great conversation.

If you could be remembered for one thing, what would it be? That I was a good friend.

Someone kicks a cat in front of you. What do you do? Kick their freaking ASS!

You meet God. What is the one question you want to ask Him? Why?

If you saw someone stealing, what would you do? I’m not sure really. Are they bigger than me? I might confront them or I might just alert the authorities… I don’t know. That a tough one!

Have you ever been the victim of racism? Is discrimination against Blondes a form of racism? I’ve certainly been a victim of sexism.

Is there anything you would willingly give your life for? I don’t know. I’d like to think I would give up my life if it meant salvation of an entire population of people but… I don’t know.

If you could re-live one day, what would it be? I’m not sure I would. Life is meant to be lived in a forward motion y’all!

If you could be invisible for a day, what would you do? Heh. Sneak into someplace I’m not supposed to be maybe?

Do you like raw vegetables? Sure do.

Do you dress for fashion or comfort? Comfort. But lately I’ve been trying to “dress for success” and success isn’t as comfy as I had hoped it would be.

Have you ever owned a pogo stick? Nope. But my friend Kathy Ann from the 6th grade owned one. It was fun. And harder than it looks.

What kind of old person do you want to be? An active one.

What is the best question in the world? Why?

What is the worst holiday experience you've ever had? I once took a high school boyfriend up to Chico to visit his mom (whom he hadn’t seen in years) for Thanksgiving. I realized about 12 seconds into the car ride up there that this guy had serious, SERIOUS issues and that I a) desperately wanted to break up with him and b) that I missed my mama!

Ever been accused of doing something you didn't? Who hasn’t?

If you had to listen to one song over and over forever, what would it be? Forever? Right now I’m digging some old Skynard so maybe like “Simple Kind of Man” or “Free Bird” but I’m fairly sure I’d be sick of anything within a week if I had to listen to it over and over and over.

If you had to marry someone you are not in love with, who would it be? A ridiculously wealthy guy who treated me nicely and with respect and looked the other way when I took a lover?

Would you tell your best friend if you saw their spouse cheating on them? Probably. Lord I hope I never find out though.

If you had to be a TV character, who would it be? Evie from Out of This World. How cool would it be to be able to pause real life?!!? Like TiVo only WAY cooler.

What is the greatest unsolved mystery of all? The intricacies of human nature.

Is it easier to forgive or forget? It’s easy to forgive once you’ve decided to. It’s sometimes impossible to forget no matter how badly you wish you could.

If you could read anyone's diary, whose would it be? Hm. Maybe my mom’s from when she was my age.

If you are what you eat, you are? A sugar-free red bull. I know it’s not food but that’s all I’ve had in the past 18 hours or so!

If you KNEW for a fact there was a heaven and a hell, what would you do? Go back to church.

Do you enjoy duct tape? Of course! It was my runner up answer to the question about the greatest invention ever! Though as entertaining as duct tape is it isn’t quite as informative as the internet.

Who is a hero of yours? My mom. For sure.

Have you ever laughed at a funeral? Actually yes. But everyone else was laughing too. And I think the guy would have appreciated that we were remembering the good times.

Worst. Bride. Ever.

Because I can't ever seem to remember to take photos of myself in my damn dress I had my mom bring it to the house this weekend for when the girls came over. Luckily for you (maybe) my friends take pictures! AND share them!

So here I am in all my wedding dressed and bustled glory...

And here is a close up one so you can see the detail a little better.

Everyone say "thank you" to Liz.

Wine Tasting with the Girls!

Last weekend some of the girls came out to keep me company while TheBoy and his crew went to the lake for his Bachelor Party. We decided to go wine tasting and this is us at stop #1. Notice that my cheeks are a normal shade of pink and no one looks like they might tip over. :D

Signs of Job Burnout

A co-worker of mine sent me this article today via e-mail with the subject “this is so you right now!” Is this a bad sign when other people, people I work with, are noticing my dissatisfaction? I’m thinking maybe it is. Especially since after reading the article I realized that holy crap someone wrote an article ALL ABOUT ME and then posted it on CNN for everyone to read.

Sign No. 1: Your co-workers are walking on eggshells around you.
I find myself apologizing for being a huge bitch. A lot. I’m just saying. I do feel bad for snapping at people and just generally being all bah-humbug all the time but I can’t seem to snap out of it! From 5 am on Monday until about 5 pm on Friday I am just in the world’s most foul mood! Even my commute home on Fridays doesn’t bother me as much as any other commute of the week because I know I don’t have to make that drive again for two whole days.

Sign No. 2: You come in late and want to leave earlier.
For the first time in my life I have become a habitual clock watcher. I literally plan my lunch break to minimize the amount of hours I still have left in the day once I return. I also find myself thinking things like "at two I can go move my car into the three hour public parking behind the building... it'll take me a good 15 - 20 minutes to do that and then I'll have less than three hours left of work!"

I AM coming in later because I’m trying to get in my gym work outs in the morning now, which of course means I have to stay later. This would be bad news on a normal day for me who, as a quintessential morning person, usually likes to be done with work for the day by 4. My brain just turns off in the afternoons! What can I say?

Sign No. 3: Apathy has replaced enthusiasm.
I used to love my job. Now I find myself seriously unable to get excited or motivated over anything. I even have found myself wondering why other people are so excited about things at work. Why does it matter if something happens, today, right this minute? No one is going to die if it doesn’t happen. It’s really not that big of a deal. I certainly don’t want to harass other people and make them angry or annoyed just so that something non-essential can happen a few moments or days before it would have happened anyway. It just isn’t that important you know?

Sign No. 4: You've lost camaraderie with co-workers.
Ahem. Did I mention it was a co-worker who sent me this article? Enough said.

Sign No. 5: You're feeling physically sick.
Two migraines in two days? Haven’t slept in a month? Stomach upset a lot? Check, check and check. Hm.

So, tell me, what’s a girl to do?

One box of cards

I am one of those people who set limits and goals for me in almost every aspect of my life. I will live in x apartment until I can afford to buy a house. I will buy myself a new suit when I can comfortably fit into x size. And so on and so on. It generally helps me to feel like I am on track and accomplishing what I need to be doing. So what if I ended up living in that apartment for two years longer than I planned? We bought a house. And so what if I’ve been wearing the same “interview suit” for years because I never seem to be the size I think I should be when I need it. It’s a nice suit – it works.

But then I come to things where I truly am upset that I haven’t stuck with the plan and challenged myself to grow. When I first started my current job I said to myself “I will only work here until I have gone through one box of business cards.” Honestly I don’t use my cards THAT much and I figured it would take me a couple years to get through the 1,000 cards they sent me. I figured 1,000 cards was enough time for me to learn all I needed to know to be ready and able to move on from here.

Last week I finally broke down and ordered another box of cards. I had been out for a few weeks but had been holding off on ordering more because – well frankly because I was hoping I wouldn’t need them. But people started noticing I didn’t have cards, and something came up where I am going to need to have cards and… They came today. It’s been almost 4 years. I am almost unreasonably upset about having to order new cards. And not because of the bad environmental effect on me ordering 1,000 cards with a name I won’t be using any more after this month. It is because I feel stuck and I am upset with myself that I can’t get out.

I am a huge bitch right now so beware - UPDATED

Alternate title: Reason #315 why I should not have children

So apparently when I am depressed/angry/frustrated/sleepy I should not be left alone among the general population. I made two different people cry on two totally separate occasions in the past two days. Perhaps it would be best if I just stayed in bed? You tell me.

Occasion the first:

I was driving home from work on Tuesday, in the Bronco, with the top off, after I had what probably was one of the most patience trying days of my life. I had left work late and it had taken me about 45 minutes to drive a distance of maybe 5 miles. I was not amused. Because traffic had been literally CRAWLING I found myself about 2 feet into the pedestrian cross walk when the light turned red. Keep in mind I had been sitting in that exact same spot for about 10 minutes. Enter fat man holding Jack in the Box bag and jumbo cup of soda.

Fat Man: You are totally in the cross walk b*$@#!

Me: (to myself) Maybe he doesn’t realize that with out any top (or windows!) that I can hear him?

Me: (still to myself) Wow lard ass you should be thanking me for making you walk 3 extra steps!

Me: (out loud) Wow lard ass you should be thanking me for making you walk 3 extra steps!

At this point the Fat Man turns around and glares at me. Do I leave well enough alone? Do I sheepishly look away? NOT ON YOUR LIFE BUDDY!

Me: (not knowing how to shut my pie hole) Seriously! Jack in the Box? (at which point I motioned to his bag) Maybe you should try jogging fatso!

Thankfully the light turned green and the cars in front of me had moved about 3 feet so I could somewhat triumphantly drive off. I looked over and caught a glimpse of Fat Man (now safely on the other side of the street from the Crazy Truck Driving B*$@#) and y’all he looked like he was about to cry.

I did feel mildly guilty. But then I thought “he started it!” a la 4th grade and decided that perhaps I should go lock myself in the house for the remainder of the evening.

Occasion the second:

Yesterday as I was walking to my car after work, which as I’ve mentioned before is parked way out in the back 40 about a mile from my office, I was indulging in a very well deserved pity cigarette when I noticed these two twelve year old girls approaching me on the sidewalk from the opposite direction.

Please no lectures about the cigarettes – any lectures will most likely result in a) hysterical crying, b) me regaling you with all the numerous reasons my life sucks right now or c) a combination of the two.

12 YO #1: (to her friend) Ew! Why would anyone smoke a cigarette?

12 YO #2: (clearly appalled at the presence of a cigarette (!) in public, on the street) I don’t know that is SO gross.

Me: (not having learned my lesson from the day before apparently) Listen little girl. You should think twice before judging people. For your information my house was robbed, we lost pretty much everything of value, I hate my job, I am about to drive about 2 hours in traffic and I am getting married in less than a month. So maybe you shouldn’t worry about my smoking – you have no idea how stressful it is to be a grown up.

12 YO #1: (mouth wide open staring at me) Um.

12 YO #2: Come on let’s go.

I resisted the temptation to throw my cigarette butt at their retreating backs, but barely. The first little girl looked like she was about to cry but the second one just looked shocked that I dared to speak to them. I’m sure somewhere today there is a pissed off soccer mom telling her friends about the psycho smoker who accosted her beloved Buffy as she walked downtown for an ice cream. Whatever. People should teach their children to be understanding and non-judgmental. Ahem.

I am now on a goal today to not make ANYONE cry. No matter how well deserved. Because I really am a nice person. I've just had a few bad days/weeks/months.

Really!

*****

This just in! In an effort to prove that I am not a miserable excuse for a human being and not fit for companionship with anyone other than Ebinezer Scrooge... I was walking to my car to go run an errand at lunch and there was an older woman walking in front of me. When she stopped at the corner she turned around and smiled at me and said,

"Those are noisy shoes! Don't wear those when you go to rob the bank!"

And I responded in all my bah-humbugness by giving her (what I hope was) a friendly smile and said,

"Yes ma'm. I promise to bring my slippers for that."

One of those days

I was going to start this post by asking if any of you (all three readers) have ever had one of those days where you probably should have just stayed in bed but instead you ignored your good sense and insisted on plodding through an increasingly bad day. But then I thought that was pretty much a rhetorical question because I don’t know anyone who HASN’T had one of those days. Kind of like the day I am having today for example.

This morning I slept through my alarm because even though I went through all the trouble of setting a recurring alarm in my cell phone for 5 am every week day so I could get up and go to the gym, I somehow forgot that I left my phone plugged in to the charger in the other room. So did I wake up at 5 am and drag my ass to the gym? Sadly no. I woke up somewhere around 6:30 and, realizing it was WAY too late to salvage any pre-work gym time, promptly went back to sleep. Which means that I was running late for work this morning – super! That, added to the fact that I am a HUGE FAT ASS and will resemble something akin to the stay puff marshmallow man at my wedding that is ONE MONTH FROM TODAY and I was already wondering at the wisdom of leaving the house.

Turns out leaving the house was going to be one more item on the “could this day get any worse” list. As most of you gathered from my post below, our home was broken into a few weeks ago. Among the things stolen were all the spare keys to our cars and the pink slips. Awesome right? So we had TheBoy’s truck re-keyed and ordered the parts for the Bronco to be re-keyed. But my car? It is still in hiding. I do love American cars and will most likely ever drive anything else, however, TheBoy’s Ford was approximately ¼ of the cost to have re-keyed than my Chevy would be. And since all of our worldly good are missing AND money was tight to begin with the care remains with its old locks just waiting for someone to find her and steal her.

In the meantime I’m driving TheBoy’s Bronco. The keys to said Bronco are on TheBoy’s key chain, the key chain with the keys to the truck that he left in this morning for work while I was still scrambling to get ready (because I was still running late). Of course by the time I was finally ready for work and noticed the missing keys, TheBoy was long gone. After many calls to his cell phone which was rolling straight to voice mail, one panicked message in which I am pretty sure I sounded like I was about to cry (because I was indeed about to cry) and one-trying-to-be-funny-but-really-frustrated-as-hell text message I finally called my boss, explained the situation and sat down with some bus schedules to try and figure my way in to work via mass transit. Working backwards I had managed to find two out of three legs of a route that would get me to the office right about lunch time when TheBoy’s truck pulled in the driveway. Hallelujah!

Sadly, in my excitement that I actually had a vehicle to get to work in I forgot that 1) it was raining outside and 2) the bronco currently is operating in “topless” mode. A few weeks back when the weather was nice TheBoy took the hard top off the truck so we could drive around and enjoy the summer-like weather. Today is not so summer-like I’m afraid. After briefly contemplating whether or not I could single handedly lift the top (weighing roughly 500 pounds) back on to the truck. I think you and I both know I would be right at this minute laying under a mass of steel had I actually tried to go that route. Instead, I just went into the house, grabbed a jacket, pulled my hair into a ponytail and with a not-so silent curse started off on my 2 hour commute. I was only about an hour and a half late at this point. Sweet.

Y’all. I could go on with other this-day-is maybe-the worst-ever-and-its-only-noon stories but right now I think it is best if I sit quietly and try not to offend anyone. Actually I’m pretty much trying to avoid all contact with other humans and am silently counting the hours until I can crawl in to bed with an entire bottle of wine. I still have a two hour commute home after all and I would really like it if someone upstairs turned the rain off over in my home town. Thanks!

The worst

People keep telling me that the first year of homeownership is hard. I'm trying to take that wisdom and run with it but let me tell you I'm not sure I would have done it if I had known in advance just HOW hard it was going to be. We have officially owned this home for nine months. In that nine months I have seen a more than 2/3 decrease in my income, I've spent roughly 4 hours a day 5 days a week sitting on my ass in traffic, I've felt more lonely than I have in my entire life and now on top of it all our home was broken into last week and they made off with pretty much everything valuable we owned. At this rate I am not sure we will survive the remaining 3 months in our first year.

We're still reeling from the shock and total feeling of violation that accompanies having someone riffling through your things. We've had the house re-keyed, the alarm installed and upgraded, we've had to put credit fraud alerts out with any and everyone and we're (hopefully) getting a dog soon. I've lost all of my jewelry, except for a few cheap-y things the thief apparently didn't want AND I've lost my wedding rings - 5 weeks before the big day. TheBoy lost both groomsmen gifts he's received from being the best man in two of his friend's weddings, things like that that you can't replace. And of course the insurance company is raking us over the coals and refusing to pay for most of the things. WHY do we pay these people money every month or year? They certainly don't seem inclined to help us AT ALL. In fact they seem determined to make an already miserable experience even worse.

But on the bright side, no one was injured. We still have our health, though that sounds hallow even to my ears. The wedding will go on, without wedding bands, but luckily it doesn't take rings to make a marriage. Here's to hoping the next 3 months go by more smoothly than the preceding 9. In the meantime please send good thoughts our way. And wine - I'm not sure there is enough wine in the world to make the next 5 weeks / 3 months go by fast enough but Lordy you better believe I am trying! I'll either make it through this relatively sane or I'll be checking into rehab in the fall. One of the two.

Now with 25% more creativity!

**Update: I know I didn't actually post a PHOTO down there of the invite. I was going to but thought it might not be smart to have ALL my personal info out there for the world to see. You know? Anywho, Michele is stellar once again and sent me a picture of it with the personal stuff blurred out. Go check it out! She's amazing!

Occasionally I will get these crazy ideas at work in which I will try to convince myself that I actually have a FUN and EXCITING marketing job and not a completely dull and boring one. (One that I won’t detail here because, hello, Dooce?) When one of these ideas strikes I am full of excitement and plan making and research. However, at some point during this process I will be reminded that while it is fun to come up with these ideas, sometimes the implementation of them is tedious. This is how I found myself this afternoon literally skipping across the street in my joy to finally be ridding myself of the smell of mint forever. Y’all, I may NEVER eat anything mint flavored again! And don’t even get me started on microwave popcorn. I’m just saying is all.

On the note of creativity, do you know who IS totally creative and artsy and stuff? Michele! She so very kindly offered to help me with the design of my wedding invitations. And by “help” I mean take a completely vague notion I had of using a sailor’s knot (since we’re “tying the knot” aboard a boat ~ get it? Ha!) and just ran with the whole thing including colors and covers and used really small words to help my dumb ass figure out wording and everything! I am in eager anticipation to receive the completed invites tomorrow. AND because Michele is not only creative and fun and a very, very good friend, she ALSO takes photos with her camera and actually sends them to people with her convenient download cable unlike other people (*cough *cough) who just hordes all the pictures on her camera forever and ever amen.

So when I said “wouldn’t it be neat if we had a knot of some kind on our invitation cause of the whole boat thing?” She said sure! And came up with this:

And this is what the folder looks like when it is closed:

And the pdf of the knot details close up. Cause I think it is amazing how it all turned out.

And y’all? I totally think she should look into doing this as a side job or for a living or something. Lord knows if I had an ounce of the creativity she has with this stuff I’d be doing that from the comfort of my own home (and in jeans!) and not doing, erhm…, what I am doing now. I’m just saying is all.

Stories from the workplace

Okay I totally had another post I was going to write today but I just had to share the conversation I just had with two co-workers outside the ladies room. One of them (the girl) had straightened her hair today and as she normally wears it curly I commented on how cute it was. The other one (the boy) said to me, “Crazy you’ve been replaced!” I thought clearly I had not had enough coffee to follow where he was going with this so I just sort of gave him a puzzled look. He continued, “well you USED to have the best hair in the office,” with a pointed look at the pony tail I have been sporting for weeks.

Well I never!

I just responded with a snarky eyebrow raise and said “well I used to rent an apartment 15 minutes from the office and spend an hour getting ready. Now I own a house an hour from the office (or two or three) and I spend 15 minutes getting ready. Sometimes you need priorities.” I’m not sure that was the right comeback for that sort of back handed insult but the girl whose hair I complimented gave me a huge smile and a thumbs up behind the guy’s back as I turned to go.

Birthday resolutions kept = 0

You would never guess that I vowed to be a better blogger in this, my 29th year. I swear I keep thinking of things I want to say but I lack the appropriate amount of time to actually write them up. But I will. I promise. In the mean time you (my whole 2 readers) can content yourself with another post of randomness that I hastily pound out on my lunch break. You lucky people you.

*****

~ I am sweating. Profusely. At work. The receptionist upstairs just sent an e-mail out about how the A/C was broken in the building and that someone would be out shortly to remedy the situation. I was forced to reply inquiring about the apparent excellent condition of the heating system however because for some unknown reason it is roughly 98 degrees in the ladies room. It is only slightly cooler in the rest of the building given that the restroom has its own gigantic heating vent and the rest of the floor only has 6 additional vents. 3,000 square feet in the office = 6 heating vents, 100 square feet in the ladies room = 1 heating vent. Someone did not research this.

*****

~ A few days ago I had a dream that I got talked into actually leaving my cubicle for lunch and accompanied some of the ladies from the office to a restaurant down the street. On our way we passed one of those slightly crazy, very olfactory offensive women who sit downtown and offer to tell the fortunes of the passing masses in suits and ties. Conversation at lunch centered mainly on fortune telling and somehow it was discovered that I, along with only one other co-worker, had never had the extreme pleasure of paying some stranger to tell me my future based on the tilt of my head and facial ticks. The other woman got talked into having her fortune read on the way back from lunch. I flatly refused.

As a group we all huddled around this little old lady and my co-worker prepared to have her fortune told. I remember thinking that all of the things that this woman told my friend were predictable. She would have success at work – we were all dressed in various forms of business attire. She would enjoy the company of good friends – surrounded by 6 women. That type of thing. I was understandably not prepared when she singled me out of the crowd. “You are getting married soon,” she said to me. Congratulations Einstein - she obviously saw the engagement ring on my finger. As I turned with the girls to go she muttered something under her breath, something none of the girls caught and I pretended not to understand. “You won’t be married this time next year.”

I really need to cut back on the red wine before bed.

*****

~ In family news, my soon-to-be Brother in Law and his wife had their first child yesterday. Ava. In the two slightly grainy photos I have of her she looks cute, in that sort of alien newborn baby way. Don’t lie, you know what I am talking about. All accounts have the parents over the moon with happiness. One late night text from the BIL summed it up by saying it is “surreal”. I can only agree. Surreal is exactly the feeling I have when I learn that yet another friend is reproducing. But then again you know about me and the babies. Anyway, I can’t wait to meet my new little niece Ava. I might have to kill my future SIL though if she looks as good after just birthing an effing baby as she did one week before her due date. I won’t say I wasn’t the slightest bit jealous when I realized that she probably weighed less than me. She certainly looked beautiful in her little black dress.

Thursday randomness

Y’all. I am broke. The combination of taxes and property taxes and that silly little party we’re having over the summer has effectively drained even the “rainy day” fund. Things have gotten so bad that I have been out of conditioner for my hair for 3 days! My answer to this predicament is to wash hair less and wear lots of ponytails. I also am out of the make-up that I use. Granted it isn’t cheap make-up but 1) I have been out for a month or more and 2) I pretty much buy everything else at the drug store so I feel okay about that. You know what I’ve noticed? The closer you get to 30 the fewer days there are that you can get away without wearing make-up. I’ve been asked repeatedly over the past several weeks if I am sick again or if I am not sleeping well. Touché.

But! You know what I am going to do tonight? I’m going to get my hair cut and colored. Whee! I am justifying this for a couple reasons, my hairdresser (whom I have been going to since I was like 12) accepts checks and will hold them for me until the next pay day and also I am going to be having my pictures taken A LOT in the next two weeks so I NEED cute hair. Ahem. Check in next week to see me rationalize a new outfit to wear to my engagement photo session! Who needs conditioner?

Also, I read this story the other week that was all about how if you are trying to go organic but don’t have the millions of dollars required to do it completely what the best fruits and veggies to buy organic are. So since I have been trying to go organic as much as possible but I am also broke (see above two paragraphs) I totally read every word of this article and the accompanying advice on what to do if you CAN’T buy organic for one of the fruits and veggies they mentioned.

Fast forward to a few minutes ago when a co-worker of mine walked into the kitchen to see me scrubbing down my apple with soap and hot water. I am now officially the crazy diet lady. Okay and two things, apples taste funny warm (unless they are in pie of course) and I’m not sure what is worse for me, soap residue (though you know I rinsed and rinsed and rinsed some more) or the pesticides.

I never promised you guys normal.

The hardest time of day

Before anyone starts freaking out... This is a character I am working on for a story. Just thought I'd clear that up before the RF's of Tiffy stage an intervention. And no, I don't have a name for for her yet. I feel like I am just getting to know her.

*****

She says that mornings are the hardest time of day. Laying alone in her bed, eyes closed, taking inventory of her surroundings and what, if anything, she can remember from the night before. Realizing she’s wearing the top half of yesterday’s outfit, complete with sweater, jacket and scarf, but nothing on the bottom sends her brain scrambling to remember those last few moments before bed. She can remember getting dressed in that outfit, but what had possessed her to remove her shoes and pants but not the heavy winter coat and scarf? And where had she discarded the remaining articles?

She stays in bed for a few moments, squinting against the glowing red numbers on her alarm clock which remind her she better get moving or she’ll be late. She tries to care. She starts to recall the evening before, filled with dread at what she might she may have done and frustrated with her lack of control. She can remember the first glass of wine clearly, and the second. Maybe a shot? Her memory gets fuzzy. She sees the rest of the evening in bits and pieces. A flash of stumbling in the bathroom, she touches the spot on her thigh and feels the soreness of a new bruise, proof. A snippet of a conversation she had with a friend, oh Lord what they must have thought of her! A disapproving look from a stranger. The moment she realized that she was out of control. Again.

She thinks about how embarrassed she is, how much she is dreading seeing the people she knows she will see again, and the ones who witness her latest debacle. Mortification is a drink best served up, with olives. She thinks about how she’s really a terrible person and wonders that anyone wants to spend time with her anyway. Maybe they don’t and she’s just been too drunk to notice. Do they seem less than enthused to see her? She groans, sheds a few worthless tears and slides out of bed to the shower. She feels like she ruined the evening, like she is ruining her life.

While she washes away the smell of cigarette smoke from her hair (had she bought her own smokes or just mooched off a friend all evening?) and tries to shake off the dull ache starting behind her eyes, she wonders how exactly she got to this place. Drinking used to be fun. A couple of cocktails with the girls after work or a glass of wine or two with dinner used to seem perfectly acceptable. When had it gotten out of control? When had she stopped drinking for fun and started drinking to forget, to dull the pain and sadness in her life? When had her life started to control her, instead of her controlling it? She tried to giver herself a pep talk, a bit of the new age side and gives up before she really can start. That garbage about choosing your destiny rings especially false when sober.

Later, walking through her home trying to clean up yet another mess left in the aftermath of a night of drinking she wonders if she should quit. Can she quit? The possibility seems unlikely. She is a drinker and many if not all the people in her life are drinkers, she doesn’t possess the will power to quit cold turkey on her own nor the money and time required to check herself into a rehab center. Besides rehab is for pop stars she thinks with a sort of ironic half smile, and AA is for alcoholics and she fancies her self a regular run of the mill drunk. The smile fades as quickly as it appeared. She rarely smiles anymore. At least not when she’s sober.

She says that mornings are the hardest.

Ten in ten

I have been working on my writing skills lately… and I thought I’d start sharing some of these attempts with you guys since they are more original than wedding updates or how much fun the DMV is. You know. Below is one I came across a few weeks ago but purposely saved for today – my birthday. Because I need a couple things to keep my brain occupied otherwise I might go back under the covers and stay there. ALL. DAY. LONG.

The object was to list 10 things I have learned in the proceeding 10 years, working on details and so on. Y’all know I have zero trouble with details right? I have to preface this post by saying that 10 years ago I was 19 and in my first year of college. I think ALL people learn a lot of stuff in the 10 years between 20 and 30, no? It’ll be interesting to read some of the responses to this by people in their 40’s and 50’s in my writing group online.

*****

1) Vanity is useless. Not that I was particularly vain… I’m not a super model by a long shot (too short for starters!). But I prided myself of a couple things that had to do with looks. Namely, I had/have a whole head of thick blonde hair that I used to obsess over daily and I always had to try the new looks, I had a flat stomach that I showed off in some terribly misguided 90’s era tummy shirts, and I could always grow healthy and strong long fingernails. Ahem. I blame youth.

I do not wish to discuss my stomach and its flatness or lack there of at the moment. That is a whole other post for another day. And it’s safe to say that at some point in the last 10 years I have discovered that sometimes a girl needs to spend a little less time in front of the mirror worrying about her hair and a little more time in the gym worrying about the size of her ass. As for fingernails? Ha! Home improvement projects combined with the dry, dry, dry air at home have managed to successfully wreck both my nails and my hands. For example, my nails look okay today, short but all relatively the same length but the skin on my fingers and around the nail beds is chapped, cracking and very dry. There isn’t enough lotion in the world for me right now.

2) I am happier with a half dozen of truly close girlfriends that I would go to some pretty great distances and maybe even break the law for, than I ever was when I had a hundred friends and still spent most of my evenings running in the gym or watching sitcoms alone. I was lonelier 10 years ago than I am now. I felt like no one “got” me. Now I know that if I really needed to, I could pick up the phone and reach someone who actually CARES when they ask me how my day was. I thought I had to have a lot of friends to make myself feel fulfilled. Turns out I was wrong.

3) Somehow, my mom got a hell of a lot smarter and conversely I don’t know quite as much as I thought I did 10 years ago. At 19 I wanted to do it my way, I was fiercely independent (which my mother can take ALL the credit for) and I didn’t want to hear anyone else’s thoughts on what I was doing with MY life. Ha! I consider my mom a friend, someone I would chose to spend my (sadly) very limited amount of free time with, someone whose opinion I value. I probably still annoy her at times and we definitely don’t see eye to eye on all things, but I will always respect her and I think she’s learning to respect the woman I’ve grown to be also. Even if she doesn’t like some of my choices (cough ~ tattoo ~ cough).

4) Love should not hurt. Someone who claims to love you should not make you feel bad about yourself, they should not make you cry and then not care that you are crying, they should not tell you that you are worthless/a waste of time/not worth the energy. Likewise if you truly love someone you should not want to test them, you should not want to avoid them, you shouldn’t fear them. I’ve learned to love by putting someone else’s happiness on an equal level or above my own. I’ve learned that people can love each other without knock down screaming fights. I used to think fighting meant the relationship had passion, now I know all it means is that your relationship has problems. (And before I get a ration of hate mail, I am not talking about little petty arguments and so on – I agree that those things happen and are perfectly normal.) I used to think I wasn’t good enough for someone to want to be with, to stay with, to be faithful to. Now I know better.

5) I’ve learned that sometimes your friends, no matter how dear, will let you down, disappoint you, or make you angry. They are human. Chances are you have disappointed them a time or two also. I’ve learned that when this happens you have to sit down with yourself, have a little come to Jesus, and decide if you can forgive them, truly forgive them. If you can not, then there is no need to have a knock down drag out fight or spend hours rehashing the same things over and over. It is acceptable to just quietly walk away; you can both retain your dignity. We are adults, we can behave cordially. If you decide you can forgive them, you can not mention it again, to them or to anyone. It isn’t fair to keep throwing something someone has done wrong in their faces. Chances are they feel terrible enough without that.

6) I’ve learned that one should always have a specific notion as to their financial situation. You should know how much you are making, how much you are spending and how much you owe. I of course learned this the hard way. I’ve learned that it’s not a good idea to pin your hopes on surprise inheritances from distant, unknown relatives. You get yourself into this mess, you get out. I’ve also learned to be at peace with the idea that I didn’t get into this situation overnight and there isn’t an overnight solution to get out of it. I’ve learned that you have to invest, even minimally to secure your future. No one my age is going to have Social Security so it’s up to us to make sure we aren’t a burden to our families once we retire. I’ve learned that new shoes aren’t as important as the mortgage payment and that drugstore make-up can cut it most of the time. I’ve learned I can live with only one or two hair appointments a year. I’ve learned that when I DO have money I’d rather do something with it than get something for it.

7) I’ve learned that life is too short to spend it with people who aren’t invested in you, working at jobs you despise (with the exception of #6 above – you can’t cut off your nose to spite your face so to speak), or just generally feeling unhappy about your life. If something is making you unhappy it is up to you to change it, it won’t change itself. And no one will know you are unhappy or that you need or want help if you don’t tell them.

Please note – while I KNOW this I still struggle daily to FOLLOW this. But I’m working on it. Life is a work in progress right? I believe in being able to choose your attitude. Choose Your Attitude. How great is that? If you think your life is terrible it will be. If you think you are happy and life is great then you are and it is. I’m hoping that didn’t come out to New Age-y but y’all know what I’m getting at right? It’s up to you.

8) I’ve learned that you can not believe everything you hear, see or read. You must consider the source, the context and then judge this information. It is up to you to educate yourself before taking sides on a position. I’ve learned that education is truly, truly important. It is so much more important than I ever knew at 19. I’ve also learned that you don’t need a fancy degree to be educated and that it is never too late. The information is out there, go find it. And then once you’ve found it, look at the context, consider the source and come up with your own ideas. I’ve learned that even honest people can sometimes present their views as fact or can give you advice based on incomplete information. It is up to you to question everything.

Especially some crazy, Self Help-ish crap a blogger writes for a creative workshop and spouts on the internets. :D

9) Stopping to smell the roses is a really good idea. Maybe I’m just focusing on this one because I’m yet another year older and I am officially at an age where in High School I thought I would be OLD. Not that I necessarily thought old was bad or anything but in my little teenaged old brain I thought by 29 I would be married, with a couple kids, having a career, traveling the world. You know, I’d be established. Well I suppose I have a few of the things I thought I’d have… the house, the husband-to-be, etc… But I don’t FEEL like I’m as mature as I could be, like I don’t have my shit in order and that’s bad.

So instead of dwelling and obsessing about the things I lack, and hopefully bypassing the stage where I sit silently rocking myself back and forth in the corner, chewing on my hair with a half dozen empty wine bottles in front of me, I am choosing to stop to appreciate the things I do have. I have a nice tidy home. I have flowers blooming all over the place that thanks to the collective efforts of my mom and future MIL are NOT dead! I have good friends. I have a good man to spend my life with. I have a snuggly cat whose sole purpose in life seems to be keeping my toes warm. I earn a steady paycheck. I am old enough to buy booze. All of these things are positive and I need to take the time to appreciate them.

10) Your health is important – you only get one shot at it. This is the only body I am ever going to get you know? So I figure it’s up to me to take care of it. That means different things to different people of course. For you it might mean drinking eight glasses of water a day and taking a multi-vitamin. For others of you it might mean riding your bike to work or something. For me, this means eating less processed foods with chemicals and scary additives I can not pronounce. It means more fruit and veggies and less burgers and fries. It means more water and green tea and less wine and tequila. It means getting my body moving, somehow, every day. Whether it’s taking the stairs between floors at work instead of the elevator, or the walk in from the bus stop, or going to a hike on a Sunday morning, or doing an exercise DVD in the evenings before I start dinner. That is what I am trying to do, for me, for my sanity, for this body that I am hoping to keep around for another decade or five.

Commuting!

I am officially a commuter!

I know I have technically been commuting since we moved out to the wine country 7 months ago but at first I had TheBoy so we could take the carpool lane which made the trip shorter (and I had someone to talk to) and, as I’ve complained about before, for the last 2 months or so I’ve been driving it solo. There is nothing like sitting in traffic for 3-4 hours each day to make you want to drive your car off a cliff. I’m just saying is all.

But today? Today I took public transportation! I’ve been wanting too for quite some time actually. It has the potential to save me $200 in gas alone in my car each month (more if the gas prices keep going up) and it’s better for the environment and so on. But I haven’t tried it until today. And other than one teeny tiny little snafu I think I did pretty well!

So, this is where all you guys need to take a second and remind yourself that I am a normal sane woman on most days. Got it? Good.

The main reason I have not tried public transit before now is… I am afraid of the germs. There I said it. I don’t like sitting next to strangers. Particularly sniffling, bathing optional strangers which is what I had pictured when I thought of riding the train or bus. Also, for some strange reason someone ALWAYS sits next to me. There can be a handful of empty seats and someone will pass those up and sit next to me. I don’t know if it is because I am small and chances are good they’ll end up sitting next to someone anyway but… Who knows? But with a guaranteed seat-mate I am guaranteed to be exposed to germs.

Anywho, this morning I was determined to try it. I got up, got all ready and was out the door by 5:40. I parked at the train station and made a mental note of my parking stall number so I could pay for it in the station. I walked along in the dark, swiped my ticket and went inside to pay for the parking and… forgot my stupid parking stall number! Tomorrow morning I will write it down. I was pretty sure it was either 2865 or 2685 so I took a stab in the dark and chose one. I guess we’ll see tonight if I gambled correctly!

The train ride went smoothly, I was one of the first people on the train and, of course, a woman came in just as the doors were closing at sat next to me. But she didn’t smell bad and wasn’t coughing like the guy in front of us so all in all I was content. I switched trains with no problem, the first train arriving at the same time as the second train so I was able to walk right across the platform and board my next train, where shockingly no one sat next to me. I got off at my designated stop and followed the signs for the bus loading.

Except… where I got off? There were like 40 different bus stops. So I walked along looking for the one I needed and I couldn’t find it! I did a second walk by just to be sure and then all of a sudden had a sinking feeling in my stomach. I had gotten off at the wrong stop! A woman from my office lives next to the station I was at and we had been talking about her picking me up at the train so we could carpool in to work from there. However, that was not the plan today. Today I needed to get off one station earlier so I could catch a connecting bus. Sheepishly I turned and headed back to the station, scanned my card and got on the next train heading that direction.

I chose to stand by the door for this trip since I was only going one stop and I was quickly back out in the bus loading zone but this time in the correct spot. I had no trouble finding my bus stop, even though the station is doing some serious remodeling/construction. I checked my schedule to see when the next bus would come since I had missed the bus I originally meant to take due to my detour. Ahem. These buses only come every half hour so I was afraid I had a long wait, in the freezing wind, ahead of me. Gladly I did not. I paid my fare and chose a seat close to the front where, of course, someone sat next to me (even though there were probably a dozen empty seats behind me – why? WHY do people do this?) and made it relatively quickly in to downtown and to work.

So my first experience with public transit, while not perfect, was certainly not terrible either. Even with my mistake of getting off at the wrong station (and a side trip to the first floor ladies room right away to wash my hands - germs!) I made it to my desk about 20–45 minutes earlier than I EVER get here driving. AND I got to listen to my iPod the whole way in. AND it is saving me gas and miles on my car. AND I’m helping the environment! Global warming is bad m’kay?

So yay me!

I love the DMV (I kid, I kid)

I had to go renew my driver’s license today as it expires next week. I have previously been able to renew my license via mail however this year I did not change my address with the DMV soon enough and they mailed the forms to our old apartment. It apparently takes an act of Congress and more super powers than I possess to get someone at the DMV to send you a duplicate set of forms so off I went.

I knew this whole shebang was not going to go well when I strolled in to the DMV 15 minutes early for my appointment, only to be told I was mistaken and that my appointment was an hour later than I thought. The lady working the desk was very nice and informed me that I was welcome to wait but they wouldn’t take me before my appointment. I could either go to the coffee shop down the street and come back later or I could add myself to the “walk-in” queue, wait time approximately two and a half hours.

So I did the logical thing and went down and got myself a cup of coffee and people watched the yuppie Pleasanton soccer moms. It was at the same time relaxing and annoying because I wanted to get the DMV thing over with sooner rather than later as I still had to drive into work today. About half an hour later I got bored at the coffee shop and decided to head back to the DMV and read the book I thankfully remembered to bring.

I don’t know if any of you have been to the DMV recently but they are SO much more high tech than they were a decade ago when I took my initial driver’s test. I walked in and the woman (same nice lady) looked me up, gave me the forms to fill out and pointed me to a seat. Once I had the form filled out she took the clipboard and other paraphernalia and punched something into this little machine and out popped a number on a slip of paper. All around the room were TV screens displaying various numbers and which desk those numbers should go to. Mas fancy.

I settled in to wait and dug out my book and made some sort of polite comment to the lady on my right about the fancy high tech thingamajig. She was equally impressed and we began a conversation lamenting the release of our current licenses with their younger photos and smaller numbers in the weight field and the joys of taking our behind the wheel tests. She remarked to me that she failed the first time she took the driving test only to be told at her second appointment that the man who had administered her test always failed people who came in on their 16th birthday. I guess it was his thing. But how disappointing to fail the driver’s test on your sweet 16 birthday!?!? It totally ruined her birthday and I could totally understand.

I then shared the story of MY behind the wheel driver’s test and how I too failed it the first time. I had practiced SO hard and was really excited and feeling confident the day of my test (which was the day AFTER my 16th birthday – cheerleading practice – you know). I remember my mom had a Honda or some other such foreign four door sedan that I was going to be driving. Things for my test appeared to be going really well and the guy who was administering the test was friendly. Back up along the curb – check, three point turn, check. I was doing great!

As we were finishing up and heading back to the DMV we stopped at a red light and waited for me to make a left turn. When the light turned green I zipped right out there and made my left turn. I looked over smiling to the guy, sure I was going to pass with flying colors, and in a very dry voice he said “there was no left turn arrow at that light”. Whoops! Is that bad? Needless to say I didn’t make THAT mistake the second time around and managed to get my license on the second try.

And I always check to see whether I am at a left arrow or not before turning now. Ahem.

Anyway, this conversation with the woman in the waiting room passed the time quickly and I had barely had a chance to read my novel when my number was called. The rest of the test passed quickly, with only a minor scare at the eye test (my eyes and mouth don’t work so well in tandem), and I was quickly being handed my temporary slip of paper showing my license was not indeed expired. I managed to get out of there a mere three and a half hours later, which would have been only two and a half if I had managed to get my appointment time right.

Just think! I get to repeat this whole scenario in a few months when I change my name. Woo Hoo!

Reason # 218 why I hate my birthday

I stood in the shower this morning and cried for almost half an hour. Then I got out of the shower and lay back down in bed, where I cried some more. All of this before I managed to pull my shit together and get dressed and leave for work. I don’t know how some people spend years in unsatisfying and non-stimulating jobs. I almost wish I could be one of those people right now. Because right now? I absolutely HATE my job.

It’s actually pretty conflicting really. I love my boss. He’s probably the most understanding and generous boss I have ever had. I love our clients. I like talking to them and hearing their stories. So what is the problem? I am bored. I feel completely non-challenged. I feel like I have learned all there is for me to learn in this position and I am ready to move on. I resent the normal tasks and stereotypes that come along with my job title. I want to move forward, move on.

Also? I hate the commute. HATE. I hate wasting two hours of my day to get to a job that doesn’t challenge me so I can sit bored to tears for nine hours only to get back in the car and waste another two hours. This mind numbing routine is draining. When I get home from work I am not in the mood to do anything except have a glass or three of wine. I don’t want to cook. I don’t want to clean. I don’t want to go to the gym (even though my fat ass needs to something fierce). Sometimes I feel too drained to even want to cuddle with my cat.

Sadly, I can not see a single way out of this situation. I need the income this job provides to pay the mortgage on our house. I can’t find another job that is 1) nearer to home, 2) challenging and 3) pays what I make now. So I’m stuck. I’m stuck wasting almost four hours a day doing nothing. I’m stuck working at a job that bores me to tears. I’m just stuck.

So why the title?

It’s no secret that I hate my birthday. Every year I take stock of where I am and realize how far it is from where I thought, from where I wanted to be by the time I hit this age. I thought that by this time I would have a fulfilling career, something I was passionate about. Because while I certainly have an aptitude for the line of work I am, I have no passion for it. I guess there are a lot of things that I thought would be different by now. I guess it’s just the overwhelming, soul sucking, completely draining way that I spend more than half of my allotted 24 hours each day that seems to take over the focus of my life.

I am doomed to be one of those people haunting the self-help aisle looking for answers to why I don’t have the life I want?

So far this is turning out to be a GREAT birthday.

Someone I used to know

At the sound of my name I looked up from where I stood contemplating the back of the latest novel being promoted by Starbucks. I scanned the crowd for a moment before settling on a face I hadn’t seen in several years – the source of the voice calling my name. In the half second it took him to make his way to me through the line I stood, shocked maybe, and scanned the face that was at once familiar and strange to me. So many things had changed about him, his hair peppered with grey, more lines around his mouth and eyes which somehow made him look handsome instead of old, he was heavier than I remembered but it looked good on him, gone was the mustache I secretly hated. His smile was the same though, slightly lopsided and fast, it used to be my favorite feature of his, reminding me more of the smile from a 10 year old boy looking for approval on something wild and crazy he had done than that of a respectable man of 40.

Conversation was awkward as we struggled to find something to say. We talked about my pending wedding, to the man I left him for. We talked about his marriage and pending divorce, his daughter. The man who swore he would never have children grinned like a fool when talking about the little girl who changed his life. “The only woman I’ll trust from now on”, he joked. I smiled. It was good to see him. We talked about what we had been doing in the several years since we’ve seen one another. I regaled him with stories of schizophrenic bosses, starting my own company, being unemployed and finally finding balance, of buying a house. He told me of his move from one career into another, his relocation to the city and decision to move back, being unemployed and finally settling for work that he swore he’d never do again yet pays better and more steadily than anything he’s had in awhile.

We moved from standing in front of the bar to outside, realizing that after the catch up was over there really wasn’t too much to say and yet hesitant somewhat to leave. We could each feel the strangeness in how someone we used to know so well could turn into a stranger in a manner of years. We laughed about how utterly wrong for each other we had been and yet how much fun we’d shared. I told him I was thankful there was never any bad blood between us at the end. He acknowledged that it had certainly been time to move on and joked about how he had “forgiven” me for finding someone more suitable before he did. It was a fun conversation, a friendly one. I remembered what I had liked about him before. I remembered why the choice, when it was presented to me, had been almost embarrassingly easy. He was/is a good man, just not the man for me.

As we said our goodbyes one of my co-workers walked by us and in to Starbucks. I caught her eye and the raised eyebrow. I’m not one to stand on street corners talking to strange men after all. We talked about getting together, an empty offer as neither of us offered updated contact information. I think we both realized that there isn’t a place for one another in the new lives we’ve built since we parted. A quick hug and wishes for a wonderful marriage for me and general good things for him and he walked away. As I stood watching him go my co-worker came out with her cup of coffee. “Who’s the tall, dark and handsome stranger?” she asked. An explanation would take too long. And really, did I know the answer? “Just someone I used to know”, I replied as we walked back into the office.

The easy path

I was having lunch with a friend the other day and the chit chat quickly turned to her favorite topic – her boyfriend and all the many things their relationship is lacking. Those of you who have been with me awhile know that I caution against constant bf-bashing. A caution that comes from personal experience I might add. I often wondered in my younger days why my friends hated my boyfriend so much when really all they had to go on was what I told them of how he treated me and I never shared the good things only the bad. Because when you are happy you don’t have a cause to call your girlfriends at all hours to share and dissect every meaning. You just are happy. But when things go wrong… Break out the speed dial.

For this particular friend, however much I would normally discourage this sort of conversation, I really feel for her and the situation she is in. She loves this man, he is for all intents and purposes, a good man. He isn’t mean, he doesn’t drink, he doesn’t gawk at other women… He’s what I would call “a nice guy”. But she isn’t happy. He doesn’t support her the way she wishes he would, he isn’t affectionate, rarely says I love you. They are the best of friends and very close but there is something missing.

She has spent countless hours agonizing over this. He’s a good man, she loves him, he treats her well, but… There is always a but isn’t there? I honestly don’t know what the best course of action is for her, I would never presume to interfere in someone’s relationship. I did that once in college and it backfired. Big time. But that’s a story for another day. All I could do was listen and support her, tell her all the things she already knows.

But on my way back to the office from lunch I found myself still thinking about her and her situation, about how sad and discouraged she looked talking about it to me. I kept wishing I had the cahones to tell her that she should never feel ashamed of what she needs, if she needs affection she should be able to get it and not feel guilty about it. I wish I could tell her that she shouldn’t settle for what she’s being given just because it isn’t terrible and because she thinks it should be enough. The truth is that, for her, it isn’t enough. She shouldn’t be afraid to be who she is, to ask for what she wants, and to share what she is feeling wholeheartedly with her boyfriend and not feel like she is being judged for it. To be told that she’s just “being a girl” and overreacting. Don’t even get me started on how much I hate that particular little misogynistic saying.

And yet, in her situation, would I stand up for myself? Or would I take the easy path? It’s an interesting dynamic… And I can’t stop wondering…

The Song Remembers When

You know how a song can trigger memories? Certain songs will always put me in the company of certain friends, recalling memories long forgotten, remind me of the person I was. Mostly these memories are good, sometimes not, but all remind me of a piece of me. I think this is the hazard of having my iPod on random shuffle at the gym. The other night I mentally traveled over a dozen years or more…

First to come on in the memory rotation was Insensitive by Jann Arden . Ahhh… High School. My friend Kelly and I used to blare this song any time it came on the radio. In her room, in my car… where ever. The latest boy being serenaded about “vagueness in your eyes and casual good-byes” by us at the top of our lungs. High School boys being insensitive by nature, I thought I would never feel the heartbreak I thought I felt then. I was wrong. I wonder sometimes about Kelly also, my friend that I shared so much happiness and heartache with. I hear through the grapevine that she’s working, still living locally, and yet I find it hard to reach out to her. I suppose I am uncertain of my welcome, ah the drama of youthful misunderstandings.

Up next, the song that has been so often played over the last year you’d think I would remove it from my iPod entirely, Rhianna’s Umbrella. I apologize now if anyone gets that chorus stuck in their head from this post. Umbrella, eh, eh, eh. Back when the song was new(ish) my friend Cate and I had gone to a Chili Cook-Off with TheBoy. We heard the song on the way to the event and that was it – instant repeat. A bajillion cups of chili and way too many beers later, the song came on again, on the car ride home. Cate and I were drunkenly singing along when TheBoy informed us that we were crazy… There was no “umbrella” in that song. I believe he thought the lyrics were something along the lines of “you can stand under my arm forever”. Foolish Boy. Of course we then proceeded to find the song on his iPod and play it on repeat the entire 25 minute ride home, being sure to emphasize every time the word umbrella was mentioned. I’m sure looking back we were highly annoying but after a few beers? Eh… good times!

What About by Janet Jackson.. This album got me through my first year of college. I danced with a company at the local junior college and several of these songs were featured in the show. It was my “get ready to go out with the girls” album. Every song meant something to me. Especially What About. At the time I was dating my high school sweetheart still. Things were rocky and I knew he didn’t love me. Like a foolish girl I couldn’t seem to let go. Until I realized the truth of the words in this song. “What about the times you lied to me, What about the times you said no one would want me, What about all the shit you've done to me, What about that? What about the times you yelled at me, What about the times I cried, You wouldn't even hold me, What about those things? What about that?” I’d like to say I found the courage to leave him from this song. Sadly, that day didn’t come for several more years.

And then the infamous Pour Some Sugar on Me by Def Leppard. This song was my car’s anthem y’all. I would go flying around downtown, top down, sunglasses on, blaring this song at full volume and singing along at the top of my lungs. I wonder sometimes what people thought as a drove by, young blonde woman, hair flying, screaming about “pour some sugar on me, in the name of love!” Ah youth. I’m not saying I still don’t squeal like a girl and drag my friends out on the dance floor anytime it comes on… But I don’t play it quite as loud in my car any longer. No need for the neighbors to know exactly when I come and go. And that car has lasted me almost 8 years. We have a LOT of memories together.

Of course other songs played during my stint on the treadmill, these are the few that I am still remembering days later. It almost makes me look forward to going to a run again tonight. Where will I travel down memory lane? Will I be happy, nostalgic, angry at myself or at someone else?

What songs carry memories for you?

Introspection

I heard that you called recently. I knew by the halting way she said “you’ll never guess who called me” almost as if she wasn’t sure she should tell me. I felt the bile rise in my throat, body heat seeming to simultaneously drain from my face and leave my chest burning, the unwelcome (unnecessary) tears spring to my eyes, all before I ever heard who, you, had called.

I hate that news of you still affects me that way. How just the thought of you, rising unbidden to the forefront of my mind can make me feel… unhappy, insignificant, unloved. The grown woman in me knows that I am none of those things and yet… I am. I hate that I am the poster child for how a woman can grow up to be relatively well adjusted without the influence of a father. I hate that people come to me for comfort when their own fathers fail in to live up to their expectations. I had no expectations. And somehow you failed to live up even to that.

So I’m getting married. I know you now know. I was relieved that you didn’t ask for details (knowing I wouldn’t, or couldn’t, have you there) and at the same time bitterly disappointed. I’m not sure what I expected. I certainly had no intention of inviting you, a complete stranger, to share in one of the happiest and most intimate days of my life. And yet, I feel the lack of your presence – if not of your presence in particular than a missing element.

You should know I don’t grieve for your absence the way I once did. It’s become more of an ache, something that lingers under the surface, barely noticed for the most part. You should also know that while I have not had the proper love of a father, I have had other men who love me as a daughter and express their joy in having me in their lives. You should know that I still miss you. You should know that I want you to stay gone.

I am relieved to be ridding myself of your name. I’ve been your daughter in name alone for longer than you ever were a father to me. Maybe then, once I no longer have that last lingering tie to you, I will feel free. Maybe then I will cease to think of you, to wonder about your life. The life you chose in place of me.

I found your address on the internet. In a moment of weakness I looked. I’ve had it for almost a year. I have debated about sending you a letter, wondering alternately if it would have any impact other than making your new family angry at the reminder of my presence. Sometimes I want to do it just to make them angry, to share some of this hurt with them. I’ve fanaticized about flying out there, of driving by your house, of having you glimpse me from a distance. Would you know me? Or would there be only something vaguely familiar, something you can’t quite put your finger on?

I resent that you still call her. I know you explained to me how she was the love of your life, how you regret getting divorced, how you were glad to have me as a last link to her. I know that you told me those things but know that I do not, or can not, accept them. Because believing those words you spoke so long ago only enforces what I am to you, nothing.