Hi readers.
Not going to lie, it has been a pretty shitty two weeks. It's been an emotional roller coaster and the ride won't be over for a long time. My father, who had survived cancer, a clinical trial where he was the only survivor, a heart attach and a blood clot condition, finally encountered something he couldn't fight and I lost him at 5:08 p.m. on June 26th. They say everyone grieves in their own way, and writing has always been therapeutic for me. I won't go into a lot of details about what happened and please respect that decision by not asking for more information. I tell the people I want to know the whole situation and if you haven't heard by now, it's not important that you know.
I decided to write this list of advice I'd offer to other people my age. I hope anyone reading this never has to experience what I'm going through, but who knows...this could be helpful to someone at some point in their life. The following list of advice is just my opinion.
1.) Always take an ambulance when offered.
2.) Know your family members' allergies, medical history, and medications. At my age, 28, I would assume most people know vague summaries of their parents' and siblings' medical histories, but not enough to go into much detail. Because my parents haven't been in the best of health, my family is a little different. I was very knowledgeable about medical procedures my father had in the past, his allergies, and his medication, both the schedule and dosages. This was very important because it allowed his doctors to get to work faster, once he arrived in Nashville. You think as the child, it would be another parent's responsibility to know this information. But you can't always count on your other parent being available, or in the correct state of mind, to be helpful.
3.) Know your family members' final wishes. When we were asked if we wanted to remove the breathing mask, even though by doing so it meant he would not survive, we knew what dad wanted. Quality of life was so much more important than quantity of life. We knew he wanted to be comfortable but he didn't want to stick around this Earth if he wasn't going to enjoy his life. We were able to give him a peaceful passing, and although my heart still hurts so much every time I think about it, I have solace in the knowledge that we did what my daddy wanted.
4.) This one is heavily just my opinion, but I would say don't look at the person in their last moments. Mom and I were in the room, holding his hand when he passed. I just stared at his hand because I did not want to see the last breathe he took. We sat there for a little over an hour and the nurse would update us on his breathing. When she said it was slowing down, I watched only his chest, watching it rise and fall slower and slower. When it didn't rise for a time, I went out to the nurses' station to let them know it was over. But, God was exceptionally cruel that day and when I entered the room, daddy took one last breath, and I saw it. It's an image that keeps me awake at night and gives me nightmares when I finally do sleep. I find myself thinking back to that moment during the day and I have to hold in my emotions at work. I know with time it won't be so prevalent in my memory, but right now, it's all I think about. Who knows. If I hadn't been in the room I may be crying at the fact that I wasn't there. There's no way to know how I would feel if I did something differently. I just know that right now, in this moment, I wish I hadn't seen that.
5.) Grieve the way you want to grieve. There are days I want to be around friends. There are days I want to be by myself. There are days I avoid everything going on and seem happy. There are days when I'm tired of saying I'm okay when I'm really not. I shouldn't be afraid to admit that some days, I am not okay. I will be, but some days I just don't want to hide how sad I am. I don't want to put on a show so people won't think I'm going to break. My friends and co-workers have been so great to me and I couldn't ask for a better support system. But know if I don't reply to a message or if I cancel plans, it's not because I'm losing it, I just want to feel what I feel and not have to put on a face for anyone.
6.) Prepare yourself for upcoming life events. I know weddings are going to be very hard. That doesn't mean that I don't want to support my friends getting married or that I don't want to be at their weddings. I wouldn't miss the two I have coming up for the world. But I am mentally preparing myself for the father/daughter things. For a while, when things weren't the best between me and my dad, I had said I didn't want him to walk me down the aisle. Now that I don't have that option anymore, I want it more than anything. Same with the father/daughter dance. I know I'll be surrounded by friends at both weddings and I love the couples who are getting married dearly. I just have to know what to expect, surround myself with friends, and concentrate on the love in the room between my friends who are lucky enough to find their other halves. The first year is going to be hard too, because every holiday/event will be the first one without dad. His birthday is in September, I had said we'd go to the UK/Vandy football game together this fall as his Father's Day present, and Christmas is going to be very lonely. Not to mention my birthday, Father's Day next year, and pretty much any significant event that happens to me. I started bawling the other day when I was watching some random tv show and a girl had just given birth and handed her father his first grandchild to hold.
I really don't have much else. This weekend will be hard because it will be the first time I've been at the house when he wasn't there. It'll be weird to not see him sitting in his chair by the computer, playing solitaire. It will be weird to not have him comment on how messy my car is when he fills up my gas tank for me before I'd return home. And it'll be weird to walk out of the house, not having him hug me and tell me he loves me. But I'll get through it, just like I'll get through next week, and next month, next year, and all of the rest of the years of my life. But even though I'll get through it, the hole in my heart which houses the pain of loss of my grandmother and grandfather, definitely got a little bigger two weeks, one day, and four hours and forty two minutes ago.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
I Can Never Eat Anything Delicious Again...Or, At Least For Three Months
Sorry readers (or, reader) it's been a while. I know. Life got in the way, I wasn't feeling creative, and frankly, I was cranky most of the last month and although I can be extra funny when I'm cranky, this was the less than enjoyable cranky Anna that comes out when she's sick. You do not want to deal with her. I don't either.
So the reason for my crankiness is because I haven't been feeling well. I've had an ongoing health issue that has been getting progressively worse and was really starting to affect my life. It sounds dire, but it's not. It's nothing serious, I'm working on ways to control it, and there are plenty of people who are worse off than I am. I could alleviate whatever slight worry you might be feeling for me by telling you what it is, but I'm not going to do that. And I have a very good reason.
Basically, this is my journey. And while I appreciate when people say, "Oh, well that happens to me too and this is what I do...", I actually don't want to hear it. I'm a strong believer that different things work for different people. And some might think the way I've been instructed to go about things is stupid. Although you are entitled to your opinion, I don't want to listen to it. I've discussed this at length with my healthcare professional, done all the research, and I think it's the best way for me. It may not end up working and then you can say you told me so, but until then, keep your comments to yourself, k? Thanks.
So in addition to starting medication, I have to cut out all foods that can trigger my ailment. And let me tell you, there are a lot of foods that can be triggers. The thought is that I'll cut out all of these foods for about three months and then I can start adding them back in. If I start feeling bad again after I add a food back into my diet, I'll know that if I want to feel better, I need to stop eating it again. My hope is to be able to control this by diet and will be able to go off of the medication. I'm not against medicine when it can make you feel better. And if I need to continue taking it I will. But if I can control this naturally, I'd much rather do it that way. (cue BSB 'I Want It That Way' as background music.)
So below are the foods I have to cut out and my reactions to each:
Processed Meat
Okay, not a huge deal. No bacon or sausage, but I don't eat a ton of those anyway. Although ever since I found out they were on the list of banned foods, I have really wanted a bacon cheeseburger.
Cheese
THIS IS A HUGE DEAL. I love cheese. I frequently have bleu cheese crumbles for dinner. And I love goat cheese on crostini with strawberries and basil. And queso is delicious. I could survive on cheese alone. Okay, well I'd probably feel like shit, but it would be awesome for a few days. This also means no pizza. Slightly devastating.
Nuts
To this, I say, aw nuts! Okay, I'm not really that cheesy. Again, not a huge deal. Until you realize that your oatmeal packets have nuts in them and have to awkwardly pick them out at your desk.
Chocolate
Don't like it anyway. I could care less.
Food With Preservatives
No more lean cuisines, smart ones, or hot pockets. Damn. Those quick meals will be missed.
Cultured Dairy Products
This is actually a huge deal to me because I love sour cream. It's a great ingredient for sauces, spreads, marinades,...a lot of things. One of my favorite go-to dinners is to bake chicken breats in the oven topped with a layer of sour cream and italian breadcrumbs. Easy and delicious, every time. Well, not anymore. At least not for three months.
MSG
No Chinese food for me and NO SOY SAUCE. That is a huge deal, considering my weekly sushi Wednesday pilgrimages to Koto. I have found an alternative and might become that lady that brings her own sauces to restaurants. You gotta do what you gotta do.
Caffeine
I'll miss it, but I can do without it. I've given up caffeine before and shockingly did not get one single withdrawal headache. This leads me to doubt that it is responsible for what I have since my body doesn't react negatively to the absence of it, but what do I know?
Fresh Baked Goods w/ Yeast
So no cakes or doughnuts or bread. I only like bread out of that list and I can do without it. But damn. I'm not even done with the list and I'm getting depressed all over again about my options.
Canned Soups
All soups must be homemade. Goodbye, Campbell's Creamy Tomato. Goodbye.
Potato Chips
I'm not even going to remark how heartwrenching this is. I'll just say that for my birthday this year, instead of a cake, I was given a jumbo bag of salt and vinegar potato chips. That is how much I love the things. Luckily I've gotten used to roasting chickpeas and edamame in the oven with different spices, which is a nice substitute.
Alcohol
Except at the wedding of the Favorite Redhead. I have to drink to the happiness of my favorite couple. Plus, champagne, red wine, whiskey and beer are the main bad guys, so having a couple of glasses of white wine would be okay, right?
There are a few other things but these are the main ones. It's a lot like clean eating, which is really good for you, so hopefully I'll get healthier as well as feel better. Plus, I'll be saving money not eating out as much since I'm not going to pay for someone to drizzle lemon juice over a bed of lettuce and charge me $13 for a 'salad.' I'll do that myself at home. I'm sure after two weeks or so I'll be so used to it I won't even miss the other foods. That's a blatant lie. I will always miss bleu cheese and potato chips.
I am comforted in the fact that it might not be goodbye for forever to some of my favorite foods, but moreso a see you later.
I am now starving after writing about food. That's the equivalent of looking at Pinterest right before dinner. Damn.
So the reason for my crankiness is because I haven't been feeling well. I've had an ongoing health issue that has been getting progressively worse and was really starting to affect my life. It sounds dire, but it's not. It's nothing serious, I'm working on ways to control it, and there are plenty of people who are worse off than I am. I could alleviate whatever slight worry you might be feeling for me by telling you what it is, but I'm not going to do that. And I have a very good reason.
Basically, this is my journey. And while I appreciate when people say, "Oh, well that happens to me too and this is what I do...", I actually don't want to hear it. I'm a strong believer that different things work for different people. And some might think the way I've been instructed to go about things is stupid. Although you are entitled to your opinion, I don't want to listen to it. I've discussed this at length with my healthcare professional, done all the research, and I think it's the best way for me. It may not end up working and then you can say you told me so, but until then, keep your comments to yourself, k? Thanks.
So in addition to starting medication, I have to cut out all foods that can trigger my ailment. And let me tell you, there are a lot of foods that can be triggers. The thought is that I'll cut out all of these foods for about three months and then I can start adding them back in. If I start feeling bad again after I add a food back into my diet, I'll know that if I want to feel better, I need to stop eating it again. My hope is to be able to control this by diet and will be able to go off of the medication. I'm not against medicine when it can make you feel better. And if I need to continue taking it I will. But if I can control this naturally, I'd much rather do it that way. (cue BSB 'I Want It That Way' as background music.)
So below are the foods I have to cut out and my reactions to each:
Processed Meat
Okay, not a huge deal. No bacon or sausage, but I don't eat a ton of those anyway. Although ever since I found out they were on the list of banned foods, I have really wanted a bacon cheeseburger.
Cheese
THIS IS A HUGE DEAL. I love cheese. I frequently have bleu cheese crumbles for dinner. And I love goat cheese on crostini with strawberries and basil. And queso is delicious. I could survive on cheese alone. Okay, well I'd probably feel like shit, but it would be awesome for a few days. This also means no pizza. Slightly devastating.
Nuts
To this, I say, aw nuts! Okay, I'm not really that cheesy. Again, not a huge deal. Until you realize that your oatmeal packets have nuts in them and have to awkwardly pick them out at your desk.
Chocolate
Don't like it anyway. I could care less.
Food With Preservatives
No more lean cuisines, smart ones, or hot pockets. Damn. Those quick meals will be missed.
Cultured Dairy Products
This is actually a huge deal to me because I love sour cream. It's a great ingredient for sauces, spreads, marinades,...a lot of things. One of my favorite go-to dinners is to bake chicken breats in the oven topped with a layer of sour cream and italian breadcrumbs. Easy and delicious, every time. Well, not anymore. At least not for three months.
MSG
No Chinese food for me and NO SOY SAUCE. That is a huge deal, considering my weekly sushi Wednesday pilgrimages to Koto. I have found an alternative and might become that lady that brings her own sauces to restaurants. You gotta do what you gotta do.
Caffeine
I'll miss it, but I can do without it. I've given up caffeine before and shockingly did not get one single withdrawal headache. This leads me to doubt that it is responsible for what I have since my body doesn't react negatively to the absence of it, but what do I know?
Fresh Baked Goods w/ Yeast
So no cakes or doughnuts or bread. I only like bread out of that list and I can do without it. But damn. I'm not even done with the list and I'm getting depressed all over again about my options.
Canned Soups
All soups must be homemade. Goodbye, Campbell's Creamy Tomato. Goodbye.
Potato Chips
I'm not even going to remark how heartwrenching this is. I'll just say that for my birthday this year, instead of a cake, I was given a jumbo bag of salt and vinegar potato chips. That is how much I love the things. Luckily I've gotten used to roasting chickpeas and edamame in the oven with different spices, which is a nice substitute.
Alcohol
Except at the wedding of the Favorite Redhead. I have to drink to the happiness of my favorite couple. Plus, champagne, red wine, whiskey and beer are the main bad guys, so having a couple of glasses of white wine would be okay, right?
There are a few other things but these are the main ones. It's a lot like clean eating, which is really good for you, so hopefully I'll get healthier as well as feel better. Plus, I'll be saving money not eating out as much since I'm not going to pay for someone to drizzle lemon juice over a bed of lettuce and charge me $13 for a 'salad.' I'll do that myself at home. I'm sure after two weeks or so I'll be so used to it I won't even miss the other foods. That's a blatant lie. I will always miss bleu cheese and potato chips.
I am comforted in the fact that it might not be goodbye for forever to some of my favorite foods, but moreso a see you later.
I am now starving after writing about food. That's the equivalent of looking at Pinterest right before dinner. Damn.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Seven Times My Mom Tried To Turn Me Into A Girly Girl...And Failed
I am not a girly girl. I'm definitely not a tomboy either. I've never had an issue with the fact that I was just as happy to play ninja turtles in pre-school with all of the other boys rather than dress up and have tea parties with no tea. I mean, what's the use of pouring someone a play cup of tea if there is no actual liquid going in the cup? Girl needs some applejuice.
Being the only child of an only child, my mom had lots of high hopes for me growing up. She wanted, nay, demanded that I be valedictorian, go to law school, become a doctor/lawyer/award-winning playwright, and have a gaggle of children with my rich husband. Well, I'm 1/4 on her major wishlist. Sorry Susan.
Another thing that she desperately wanted me to be was a girly girl. Mom dreamed of the days where she and her daughter would do eachother's nails and dress in lots of pink. Well, that didn't really ever happen. Below are seven of the most memorable instances of me disappointing my mother in my non-girliness. Which is now, apparently, a word.
1.) I hated dance. My mom dreamed of having a ballerina in the family, but I guess she'll have to settle for dressing the dog up in a tutu. I could have cared less. During dance class I was more concerned with the girls who got to launch themselves at the vault during gymnastics class. My costumes had sequins all over them, but God, were they itchy and uncomfortable. Plus, there were all the feathers. I LOATHE feathers. Dance and me, were not a perfect marriage.
2.) I gave up gymastics for softball. My mom finally caved and allowed me to take gymnastics, beginning when I was six. I suppose she figured it still counted as dance considering I took lessons at a dance studio. Well, in third grade, I developed another love: softball. My grandfather loved teaching me how to catch the ball and bat. As readers of this blog are aware, my grandfather was the most important person in my life before he passed away. I learned all of the MLB teams and mascots. He would quiz me while I swung on my tire swing in the backyard. Not so coincidentally, but my love affair with softball and baseball developed the summer Baskin Robbins sold ice cream sundaes in miniature baseball helmets of MLB teams. I was a fat kid, so this was very appealing to me. I'd say we needed to go to Baskin Robbins so I could get another baseball helmet, but really, I wanted the chocolate fudge sundae. With no cherry. After a few years of doing both gymnastics and softball, I had to pick just one, as my practice schedules were becomming more and more demanding. Even though my mom desperately pleaded (and bribed) to try and get me to stick with gymnastics, I chose softball. Because nothing made me feel better in the world than hearing my grandfather cheer for me when I hit the ball.
3.) I refused to have a pink room. Mom and dad decided that they were going to redecorate my room. They wanted me to make the transition from little girl room with the Barbie sheets to the big girl room with floral patterned wallpaper. Pink floral patterned wallpaper. Even though I was only seven, I knew what I wanted. And it was not pink. I wanted UK blue (I started out as a fan young) but mom thought my fandom was fleeting. Wrong. I finally compromised with mom enough to have lavender wallpaper...even though I wanted royal purple. At least I didn't have pink. Although, I did notice that even though my bedspread was lavendar, pink sheets kept popping up underneath the covers. Neither of us acknowledged this fact. I silently compromised and mom acted like she knew nothing was amiss. I've mentioned before how good my family is at avoidance. Prime example.
4.) All I wanted to wear to school were Adidas pants and UK shirts. For Christmas each year my mom would stuff my 5 foot tall stocking (remember, only child) to the brim with outfits full of ruffles, sparkles, and silky fabric. That makes it sound like my stocking was full of stripper outfits, but don't worry, it wasn't. Each year I'd look at the pile of clothing in front of me and promptly exit the living room to put on my comfy Adidas pants and UK tshirt that was my normal Middle School era attire. I wanted to be comfortable, not cute. I mean, I was chubby, still had 80s bangs, braces to fix my horribly crooked teeth, an acne problem, and I was 12. No amount of frills or flair was going to make me look cute. I stuck to my comfort while mom wistfully glanced at the outfits she had bought me, only to be discarded for tshirts as old as our pets were.
5.) Red car vs blue car. When I was 16, because of my good grades and my aversion to ever disobeying my parents, mom and dad said they'd buy me a car. Obviously, I was super excited. We went to the car lot, I test drove some of my favorites, and I was down to two: a red Pontiac Sunfire with a sunroof and a blue Oldsmobile Alero, also with a sunroof. Obviously, mom liked the red car because she said it was more lady like. Obviously, I liked the blue one because it was blue. Blue won out. My mom's mortification only grew when I hung Mardi Gras beads in the rearview mirror. No, I didn't earn them (but I might next weekend while in New Orleans!...no, I really won't) but that didn't make any difference to her.
6.) Sexy prom dress vs ball gown. Senior prom was approaching. I had a hot date I'd never met in person (story for another time), was super tan, and I was ready to buy my prom dress. I tried on two that I loved: a mint green fluffy ball gown, and a sexy white one shoulder with gemstone lined oval shaped cutouts that traced a curve from one shoulder, over my chest, down to the opposite hip. I went with the white dress, even though because of the location of the cut outs, I could not wear underwear. Mom thought taking me to Fredericks of Hollywood to find some sort of underwear contraption to wear would be a great idea. When they handed an 18 year old girl a g-string with rhinestones and clear plastic straps mom figured out that probably wasn't the best idea and told me it would be best just to go without
7. The time I told my mom I didn't want a wedding, I just wanted to go to the courthouse. This probably hit my mom the hardest...well, maybe the me giving up dance was harder, but this one was close. When talking about my dream wedding with my mother at one point (probably during a Say Yes to the Dress marathon), I dropped the bombshell that I didn't want a wedding at all. I wanted to go to the courthouse, have a party for all my friends afterwards, and go on a kickass honeymoon. No fluffy white dress, no father/daughter dance, no gross wedding cake. She cried. Like, huge tears, ugly face cried. I tried to explain to her how silly it was to spend so much money on one day and I could use my wedding fund for a down payment on a house, but she was having none of it. I have since changed my mind (although the courthouse/huge party idea is still appealing) but I haven't told her that. Because if I did, she'd be coming to me with floral arrangement ideas and possible invitation prints. And I'm not even dating anyone.
Again, I'm not a tomboy, but I'm definitely not the girly girl my mom dreamed that I'd be. I curse too much, I have a tattoo (still not sure if she's aware I went through with that decision) and I have a sense of humor that is more snarky than charming. But, I think my mom is still pretty happy with the way I turned out.
And one shoutout to my grandfather, Daddy Cliff, who would have been 91 tomorrow. Even though I mortify my mother sometimes with my language and life decisions, I know he's up there in heaven laughing at every curse word I say, enjoying every awkward situation I get into and saying, "That's my girl." I love you Daddy Cliff. Forever and always and a day.
Being the only child of an only child, my mom had lots of high hopes for me growing up. She wanted, nay, demanded that I be valedictorian, go to law school, become a doctor/lawyer/award-winning playwright, and have a gaggle of children with my rich husband. Well, I'm 1/4 on her major wishlist. Sorry Susan.
Another thing that she desperately wanted me to be was a girly girl. Mom dreamed of the days where she and her daughter would do eachother's nails and dress in lots of pink. Well, that didn't really ever happen. Below are seven of the most memorable instances of me disappointing my mother in my non-girliness. Which is now, apparently, a word.
1.) I hated dance. My mom dreamed of having a ballerina in the family, but I guess she'll have to settle for dressing the dog up in a tutu. I could have cared less. During dance class I was more concerned with the girls who got to launch themselves at the vault during gymnastics class. My costumes had sequins all over them, but God, were they itchy and uncomfortable. Plus, there were all the feathers. I LOATHE feathers. Dance and me, were not a perfect marriage.
2.) I gave up gymastics for softball. My mom finally caved and allowed me to take gymnastics, beginning when I was six. I suppose she figured it still counted as dance considering I took lessons at a dance studio. Well, in third grade, I developed another love: softball. My grandfather loved teaching me how to catch the ball and bat. As readers of this blog are aware, my grandfather was the most important person in my life before he passed away. I learned all of the MLB teams and mascots. He would quiz me while I swung on my tire swing in the backyard. Not so coincidentally, but my love affair with softball and baseball developed the summer Baskin Robbins sold ice cream sundaes in miniature baseball helmets of MLB teams. I was a fat kid, so this was very appealing to me. I'd say we needed to go to Baskin Robbins so I could get another baseball helmet, but really, I wanted the chocolate fudge sundae. With no cherry. After a few years of doing both gymnastics and softball, I had to pick just one, as my practice schedules were becomming more and more demanding. Even though my mom desperately pleaded (and bribed) to try and get me to stick with gymnastics, I chose softball. Because nothing made me feel better in the world than hearing my grandfather cheer for me when I hit the ball.
3.) I refused to have a pink room. Mom and dad decided that they were going to redecorate my room. They wanted me to make the transition from little girl room with the Barbie sheets to the big girl room with floral patterned wallpaper. Pink floral patterned wallpaper. Even though I was only seven, I knew what I wanted. And it was not pink. I wanted UK blue (I started out as a fan young) but mom thought my fandom was fleeting. Wrong. I finally compromised with mom enough to have lavender wallpaper...even though I wanted royal purple. At least I didn't have pink. Although, I did notice that even though my bedspread was lavendar, pink sheets kept popping up underneath the covers. Neither of us acknowledged this fact. I silently compromised and mom acted like she knew nothing was amiss. I've mentioned before how good my family is at avoidance. Prime example.
4.) All I wanted to wear to school were Adidas pants and UK shirts. For Christmas each year my mom would stuff my 5 foot tall stocking (remember, only child) to the brim with outfits full of ruffles, sparkles, and silky fabric. That makes it sound like my stocking was full of stripper outfits, but don't worry, it wasn't. Each year I'd look at the pile of clothing in front of me and promptly exit the living room to put on my comfy Adidas pants and UK tshirt that was my normal Middle School era attire. I wanted to be comfortable, not cute. I mean, I was chubby, still had 80s bangs, braces to fix my horribly crooked teeth, an acne problem, and I was 12. No amount of frills or flair was going to make me look cute. I stuck to my comfort while mom wistfully glanced at the outfits she had bought me, only to be discarded for tshirts as old as our pets were.
5.) Red car vs blue car. When I was 16, because of my good grades and my aversion to ever disobeying my parents, mom and dad said they'd buy me a car. Obviously, I was super excited. We went to the car lot, I test drove some of my favorites, and I was down to two: a red Pontiac Sunfire with a sunroof and a blue Oldsmobile Alero, also with a sunroof. Obviously, mom liked the red car because she said it was more lady like. Obviously, I liked the blue one because it was blue. Blue won out. My mom's mortification only grew when I hung Mardi Gras beads in the rearview mirror. No, I didn't earn them (but I might next weekend while in New Orleans!...no, I really won't) but that didn't make any difference to her.
6.) Sexy prom dress vs ball gown. Senior prom was approaching. I had a hot date I'd never met in person (story for another time), was super tan, and I was ready to buy my prom dress. I tried on two that I loved: a mint green fluffy ball gown, and a sexy white one shoulder with gemstone lined oval shaped cutouts that traced a curve from one shoulder, over my chest, down to the opposite hip. I went with the white dress, even though because of the location of the cut outs, I could not wear underwear. Mom thought taking me to Fredericks of Hollywood to find some sort of underwear contraption to wear would be a great idea. When they handed an 18 year old girl a g-string with rhinestones and clear plastic straps mom figured out that probably wasn't the best idea and told me it would be best just to go without
7. The time I told my mom I didn't want a wedding, I just wanted to go to the courthouse. This probably hit my mom the hardest...well, maybe the me giving up dance was harder, but this one was close. When talking about my dream wedding with my mother at one point (probably during a Say Yes to the Dress marathon), I dropped the bombshell that I didn't want a wedding at all. I wanted to go to the courthouse, have a party for all my friends afterwards, and go on a kickass honeymoon. No fluffy white dress, no father/daughter dance, no gross wedding cake. She cried. Like, huge tears, ugly face cried. I tried to explain to her how silly it was to spend so much money on one day and I could use my wedding fund for a down payment on a house, but she was having none of it. I have since changed my mind (although the courthouse/huge party idea is still appealing) but I haven't told her that. Because if I did, she'd be coming to me with floral arrangement ideas and possible invitation prints. And I'm not even dating anyone.
Again, I'm not a tomboy, but I'm definitely not the girly girl my mom dreamed that I'd be. I curse too much, I have a tattoo (still not sure if she's aware I went through with that decision) and I have a sense of humor that is more snarky than charming. But, I think my mom is still pretty happy with the way I turned out.
And one shoutout to my grandfather, Daddy Cliff, who would have been 91 tomorrow. Even though I mortify my mother sometimes with my language and life decisions, I know he's up there in heaven laughing at every curse word I say, enjoying every awkward situation I get into and saying, "That's my girl." I love you Daddy Cliff. Forever and always and a day.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
What I Learned From Being Off Of Facebook For A Week And A Day
Greetings readers!
It's forty one minutes until the new episode of Game of Thrones and I'm finally done working for the day (yes, on Sunday) so I figured I have enough time to jot down a quick blog post before I settle in to watch the Khaleesi kick some more asses and take a few more names. Seriously y'all, call me nerdy for being such a huge GoT fan, but I dare anyone to watch last week's episode and not be impressed. Dracarys.
Anyway, last week I disabled my Facebook account. I didn't do it because I was trying to get my mind off of some guy or for some higher purpose like giving something up for Lent or some other religious holiday. Mainly, I did it because I was sick of looking at it. Here are a few things I learned being away from the world of Facebook.
1.) People don't give a shit what I'm up to.
I am as guilty (or more-so) than anyone of posting meaningless status updates. I try to at least make them witty or entertaining, but I have posted far too many times what I'm having for dinner, what I'm reading, or that I'm exhausted. Sure, a few people asked me if I wasn't on the book of face anymore, but no one cried, time didn't stop, and the world didn't fall off its axis when I didn't post anything for a week. Not that I think I am anywhere important enough for any of those things to happen, but still...they didn't.
2.) I don't give a shit what you're up to.
Just as I'm sure people have groaned at some of my status updates, I groan just as much about theirs. There are several things I can't stand to see posted but I fear if I list them out I will offend my friends who are offenders of the list. But, my top 3 I Don't Give a Shit subjects are your children's bowel movements, anything about how you love gay people but don't support gay marriage, and selfies. I know what you look like, you know what you look like, just STOP.
3.) So much less drama.
A lot happened last week and people were texting me left and right with 'did you see what so and so posted'? And my answer could always be 'No.' And it was glorious. Because I didn't see what stupid decisions some people were making, I didn't think about them. And it was wonderful.
So why am I back on Facebook? Honestly, it's mainly for pictures and to keep in contact with people I don't see very often, such as old professors and co-workers. But, I definitely plan to post less. Yes, I fully see the irony of advertising this new blogpost in a Facebook status, but whatever. It's a link, you don't have to click, and if you don't want to read it don't click it. Not that hard, people.
Okay, time to look over a report one more time before I settle in to watch the greatest show on tv. Why am I working on a Sunday, you may ask? Well, that is a story for another blog. But I'll give you a little teaser: it's because of a coworker I have that sits close to me and does not shut up for the 7.5 hours she is at work. Constant chatter about her aunt's broken hip three years ago, what she made for dinner last night, and updates about the stupid 31 shit she sells. Much like annoying Facebook status she's always there, in your face, constantly spewing information no one around her cares to hear. That'll be a fun read.
It's forty one minutes until the new episode of Game of Thrones and I'm finally done working for the day (yes, on Sunday) so I figured I have enough time to jot down a quick blog post before I settle in to watch the Khaleesi kick some more asses and take a few more names. Seriously y'all, call me nerdy for being such a huge GoT fan, but I dare anyone to watch last week's episode and not be impressed. Dracarys.
Anyway, last week I disabled my Facebook account. I didn't do it because I was trying to get my mind off of some guy or for some higher purpose like giving something up for Lent or some other religious holiday. Mainly, I did it because I was sick of looking at it. Here are a few things I learned being away from the world of Facebook.
1.) People don't give a shit what I'm up to.
I am as guilty (or more-so) than anyone of posting meaningless status updates. I try to at least make them witty or entertaining, but I have posted far too many times what I'm having for dinner, what I'm reading, or that I'm exhausted. Sure, a few people asked me if I wasn't on the book of face anymore, but no one cried, time didn't stop, and the world didn't fall off its axis when I didn't post anything for a week. Not that I think I am anywhere important enough for any of those things to happen, but still...they didn't.
2.) I don't give a shit what you're up to.
Just as I'm sure people have groaned at some of my status updates, I groan just as much about theirs. There are several things I can't stand to see posted but I fear if I list them out I will offend my friends who are offenders of the list. But, my top 3 I Don't Give a Shit subjects are your children's bowel movements, anything about how you love gay people but don't support gay marriage, and selfies. I know what you look like, you know what you look like, just STOP.
3.) So much less drama.
A lot happened last week and people were texting me left and right with 'did you see what so and so posted'? And my answer could always be 'No.' And it was glorious. Because I didn't see what stupid decisions some people were making, I didn't think about them. And it was wonderful.
So why am I back on Facebook? Honestly, it's mainly for pictures and to keep in contact with people I don't see very often, such as old professors and co-workers. But, I definitely plan to post less. Yes, I fully see the irony of advertising this new blogpost in a Facebook status, but whatever. It's a link, you don't have to click, and if you don't want to read it don't click it. Not that hard, people.
Okay, time to look over a report one more time before I settle in to watch the greatest show on tv. Why am I working on a Sunday, you may ask? Well, that is a story for another blog. But I'll give you a little teaser: it's because of a coworker I have that sits close to me and does not shut up for the 7.5 hours she is at work. Constant chatter about her aunt's broken hip three years ago, what she made for dinner last night, and updates about the stupid 31 shit she sells. Much like annoying Facebook status she's always there, in your face, constantly spewing information no one around her cares to hear. That'll be a fun read.
Friday, April 19, 2013
The Art of Being Friends With An Ex
My ex-boyfriend is one of my closest friends.
Not too many people can say that statement. D and I dated for five years and broke up five years ago. Next week would have been our 10 year anniversary, had we stayed together. It was pretty much the best break-up ever. I looked at him, said, "We're never getting married, are we?" He said, "No." I said, "Are you happy?" He said, "No, are you?" I said, "No." There was some crying on my part but mainly because I was scared of losing him as a friend. He's a wonderful person and we were great friends, but that's all we were. However, when you spend that large of a chunk of your life with someone, it's hard to think they may not be there anymore. That was five years ago and we're still very close. In fact, we email 3-4 days a week, sometimes multiple times a day. We email inside jokes between the two of us, links we think the other person would enjoy (usually something Legends of the Hidden Temple or GUTS related), and talk to eachother about people in our lives that we're dating, or want to date. His current goal is to get into the yoga pants of a girl on his kickball team we affectionately call Yoga Pants. I don't know her real name. I know he's told me, but I can't remember it, and prefer to call her Yoga Pants.
I've always prided myself on the fact that I'm friendly with my exes. No, I don't talk to any of them as much as I talk to D, but that would be too many people to correspond over email with. I don't hate any of them and would greet anyone I dated in the past with a hug. I mean, there are one or two that I wouldn't mind if they contracted a venereal disease at some point in their lives, but I would hope it would be a curable one. I do feel, however, that once your ex is married, correspondence should cease between the two of you, out of respect for their spouse. No more birthday facebook postings, no more congratulations texts, and definitely no sexting. Not that I ever engage in that activity with an ex. But I might someday, if I'm bored.
People often ask me if I think we'll ever get back together and my response is always no. Yes, we still get along really well and he's one of the first people I tell about huge life events, but he's just a really good friend. And I doubt he'd want to date me again anyway. I was a terrible girlfriend at times and an awesome one at others. I mean, we dated when I was 18-23...what 18-23 year old can't say they were equally awesome and horrible to their partners? But that ship has sailed and that Yankee Candle has been blown out. (There's a really hilarious story about my ex and Yankee Candles. Ask me about it sometime.) But it's nice to know that if I need a male perspective on the latest guy in my life, I can always go to him. Usually he says the equivalent of 'what the eff' are you doing', but he really can't argue too much about the people I am attracted to because Yoga Pants has an aversion to sand. To sand. I don't even understand how that's a thing or why that came up the night they met, but whatever. I said as long as they never go on a date where sand volleyball is involved, he should be golden.
I feel like this entry just kind of abruptly ended, but it's all I've got for today. Till next time, whenever that may be...
Not too many people can say that statement. D and I dated for five years and broke up five years ago. Next week would have been our 10 year anniversary, had we stayed together. It was pretty much the best break-up ever. I looked at him, said, "We're never getting married, are we?" He said, "No." I said, "Are you happy?" He said, "No, are you?" I said, "No." There was some crying on my part but mainly because I was scared of losing him as a friend. He's a wonderful person and we were great friends, but that's all we were. However, when you spend that large of a chunk of your life with someone, it's hard to think they may not be there anymore. That was five years ago and we're still very close. In fact, we email 3-4 days a week, sometimes multiple times a day. We email inside jokes between the two of us, links we think the other person would enjoy (usually something Legends of the Hidden Temple or GUTS related), and talk to eachother about people in our lives that we're dating, or want to date. His current goal is to get into the yoga pants of a girl on his kickball team we affectionately call Yoga Pants. I don't know her real name. I know he's told me, but I can't remember it, and prefer to call her Yoga Pants.
I've always prided myself on the fact that I'm friendly with my exes. No, I don't talk to any of them as much as I talk to D, but that would be too many people to correspond over email with. I don't hate any of them and would greet anyone I dated in the past with a hug. I mean, there are one or two that I wouldn't mind if they contracted a venereal disease at some point in their lives, but I would hope it would be a curable one. I do feel, however, that once your ex is married, correspondence should cease between the two of you, out of respect for their spouse. No more birthday facebook postings, no more congratulations texts, and definitely no sexting. Not that I ever engage in that activity with an ex. But I might someday, if I'm bored.
People often ask me if I think we'll ever get back together and my response is always no. Yes, we still get along really well and he's one of the first people I tell about huge life events, but he's just a really good friend. And I doubt he'd want to date me again anyway. I was a terrible girlfriend at times and an awesome one at others. I mean, we dated when I was 18-23...what 18-23 year old can't say they were equally awesome and horrible to their partners? But that ship has sailed and that Yankee Candle has been blown out. (There's a really hilarious story about my ex and Yankee Candles. Ask me about it sometime.) But it's nice to know that if I need a male perspective on the latest guy in my life, I can always go to him. Usually he says the equivalent of 'what the eff' are you doing', but he really can't argue too much about the people I am attracted to because Yoga Pants has an aversion to sand. To sand. I don't even understand how that's a thing or why that came up the night they met, but whatever. I said as long as they never go on a date where sand volleyball is involved, he should be golden.
I feel like this entry just kind of abruptly ended, but it's all I've got for today. Till next time, whenever that may be...
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
16 Ways I Want to Respond to the Question "Do You Have A Boyfriend?"
I really hate that question. For several reasons. It frequently comes at inopportune times. It's used as a filler for the last ten minutes of a lunch hour meeting, or when you run into someone on the street that you would be fine never seeing again, but apparently they want to share their life story with you. Co-workers will ask you if you've had any dates lately and then pat you on the shoulder and say, "Oh, don't worry. You'll find someone someday." Um, thanks, but I'm not worried. You're the one that brought it up. So I have come up with 16 responses that I have committed myself to say in the future when this question is posed to me.
1.) Why don't you ask me if I have a girlfriend?
2.) How much is in your 401k? Oh wait, is that too personal? So sorry.
3.) I have severe trust issues and am probably too emotionally damaged to ever be capable of loving another person wholeheartedly.
4.) I mean, I have a guy I sleep with every now and then. Does that count?
5.) I'm a swinger.
6.) Yes. But he's a secret government agent and if I told you his identity I would have to kill you.
7.) Well this guy thinks I'm his girlfriend but I'm not.
8.) I'm not allowed to date until I'm 40.
9.) I'm actually a polygamist and have four husbands in four different states. Shhh.
10.) Well, I did put a 'Missed Connections' ad out on Craigslist, so fingers crossed!
11.) Define "boyfriend."
12.) Why, are you trying to ask me out?
13.) 'A' boyfriend? I have a harem of boyfriends.
14.) Yes, and I'm only dating him for his money and the use of his fancy car.
15.) (burst into tears) Nooooo! I'm so ugly and stupid and lame and no one wants to date meeeeeeeeee!
16.) That, sir or madame, is none of your concern.
Any other creative responses I should add to this list?
1.) Why don't you ask me if I have a girlfriend?
2.) How much is in your 401k? Oh wait, is that too personal? So sorry.
3.) I have severe trust issues and am probably too emotionally damaged to ever be capable of loving another person wholeheartedly.
4.) I mean, I have a guy I sleep with every now and then. Does that count?
5.) I'm a swinger.
6.) Yes. But he's a secret government agent and if I told you his identity I would have to kill you.
7.) Well this guy thinks I'm his girlfriend but I'm not.
8.) I'm not allowed to date until I'm 40.
9.) I'm actually a polygamist and have four husbands in four different states. Shhh.
10.) Well, I did put a 'Missed Connections' ad out on Craigslist, so fingers crossed!
11.) Define "boyfriend."
12.) Why, are you trying to ask me out?
13.) 'A' boyfriend? I have a harem of boyfriends.
14.) Yes, and I'm only dating him for his money and the use of his fancy car.
15.) (burst into tears) Nooooo! I'm so ugly and stupid and lame and no one wants to date meeeeeeeeee!
16.) That, sir or madame, is none of your concern.
Any other creative responses I should add to this list?
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Am I Weird?
You and I both already know the answer to that question. Yes, I'm terrifically weird. And I wouldn't be any other way. But I'm not talking about being a weird person in general. I'm talking about being weird when it comes to the relationship area of my life. Here's the story.
So, I haven't dated anyone in a pretty long time. Sure, there have been dates here and there, but no really significant relationship in the past couple of years. Most of the time I'm pretty okay being single, and I usually prefer it. Of course there are those moments when you wish you had someone, like when your dad says something hurtful to you or when you have a bad day...or when you can't get your dress zipped all the way up in the back and you go to work with it halfway unzipped and ask a co-worker to finish it zipping up for you. Luckily I have no shame, so this wasn't as awkward as it could be.
So I had been talking to this guy and he did everything right. He called instead of texted, asked me on a next date while we were still on the present one, and was a very nice person. He talked about wanting to settle down, how Nashville was a place he wanted to raise his kids, and how he was at a place in his life where he was ready for all that. This is supposed to be a girl's dream, right? Well, apparently not me. I told him that while I have enjoyed hanging out with him and getting to know him, I don't think I'm ready for a serious relationship right now. To which he replied, then why am I on an online dating site, which is a valid point. I didn't want to say "well, actually I'm just not ready for a relationship with you" because that seems a little mean, even for me. But I just didn't spark with him, and it was easier to tell him I wasn't ready for a relationship at all than specify it to him. In my eyes anyway.
I have to have that spark with people. That feeling where you know you want to talk to this person again. Just because you spark with someone doesn't mean you necessarily want to date them. I spark with my girlfriends and I spark with their significant others, because I genuinely like them and enjoy spending my time with them. No, I don't want my friends boyfriends to kiss me up against a wall or come help me zip up my dress. That would be totally inappropriate. I just need that feeling that I want to have a second conversation with you. And if, at the end of the night, when walking me to my car, I do not want to be saying in my head "please don't kiss me, please don't kiss me."
My friends constantly give me grief for not giving people a chance. I look at it as I am not wasting anyone's time. I know myself pretty damn well and I know if I'm not interested, I'm not going to be. It doesn't take time to grow or whatever. It just isn't there. Is there something wrong with me? I had a close to perfect guy that wanted to seriously date me and I said no. It was the right thing to do because I wasn't feeling it, but is my feeler broken? That sounds really inappropriate.
Maybe someday I'll meet that person that I spark with and can't wait to talk to again. And maybe we'll go on a few dates and then I'll decide that yes, I really do want to welcome this person 100% into my life. I'm 28, it's not like I'm short on time. But right now, I'm just enjoying being me. I'm nerdy, slightly messy, a teensy bit OCD, a lot sassy, a tad bitchy and quite a bit funny. And one day, if a guy comes along that makes me feel like I can't wait to see him again, great. But right now, I'm fine it just being me.
So, I haven't dated anyone in a pretty long time. Sure, there have been dates here and there, but no really significant relationship in the past couple of years. Most of the time I'm pretty okay being single, and I usually prefer it. Of course there are those moments when you wish you had someone, like when your dad says something hurtful to you or when you have a bad day...or when you can't get your dress zipped all the way up in the back and you go to work with it halfway unzipped and ask a co-worker to finish it zipping up for you. Luckily I have no shame, so this wasn't as awkward as it could be.
So I had been talking to this guy and he did everything right. He called instead of texted, asked me on a next date while we were still on the present one, and was a very nice person. He talked about wanting to settle down, how Nashville was a place he wanted to raise his kids, and how he was at a place in his life where he was ready for all that. This is supposed to be a girl's dream, right? Well, apparently not me. I told him that while I have enjoyed hanging out with him and getting to know him, I don't think I'm ready for a serious relationship right now. To which he replied, then why am I on an online dating site, which is a valid point. I didn't want to say "well, actually I'm just not ready for a relationship with you" because that seems a little mean, even for me. But I just didn't spark with him, and it was easier to tell him I wasn't ready for a relationship at all than specify it to him. In my eyes anyway.
I have to have that spark with people. That feeling where you know you want to talk to this person again. Just because you spark with someone doesn't mean you necessarily want to date them. I spark with my girlfriends and I spark with their significant others, because I genuinely like them and enjoy spending my time with them. No, I don't want my friends boyfriends to kiss me up against a wall or come help me zip up my dress. That would be totally inappropriate. I just need that feeling that I want to have a second conversation with you. And if, at the end of the night, when walking me to my car, I do not want to be saying in my head "please don't kiss me, please don't kiss me."
My friends constantly give me grief for not giving people a chance. I look at it as I am not wasting anyone's time. I know myself pretty damn well and I know if I'm not interested, I'm not going to be. It doesn't take time to grow or whatever. It just isn't there. Is there something wrong with me? I had a close to perfect guy that wanted to seriously date me and I said no. It was the right thing to do because I wasn't feeling it, but is my feeler broken? That sounds really inappropriate.
Maybe someday I'll meet that person that I spark with and can't wait to talk to again. And maybe we'll go on a few dates and then I'll decide that yes, I really do want to welcome this person 100% into my life. I'm 28, it's not like I'm short on time. But right now, I'm just enjoying being me. I'm nerdy, slightly messy, a teensy bit OCD, a lot sassy, a tad bitchy and quite a bit funny. And one day, if a guy comes along that makes me feel like I can't wait to see him again, great. But right now, I'm fine it just being me.
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