Summer is almost over, grasping to get in a few more rays before fall takes over. This transition is my favorite time of year. I often wonder if it’s because it mirrors my life. We’re always in a transition, constantly changing. I feel myself grasping onto the old, reluctant to let go, as the new takes hold.
I feel as though I missed out on the beginning of my twenties. I was so focused on growing up that I forgot to enjoy being young. Now I’m in the transition of accepting how young I actually am.
This year I was to be married and start a family. The man I was to marry was 13 years my senior and I found myself fighting to prove to others that we belonged, that it wasn’t so odd that we were together. I remember when I took my nose ring out. I looked in the mirror and saw this stud in my nose, this teeny stud that I loved so dearly, and thought how it made me look young. So I took it out. In all reality it didn’t make me look ‘young’, it made me look my age. I was 21. Last week I was curious to see if it would go back in. it had been 2 years since I last sported it. So I drove down to the same place I had it pierced and bought a replacement. It’s the same small, silver stud I wore before. It went right in. I found myself looking in the mirror and thinking once again how it made me look young. And yet I still loved it. So, I decided it would stay. Does it make me look young? Fuck it, I am young. And I’m allowed to be young.
I look back on the last two years and see how much I changed of myself in order to appear older. I wore different clothes. I listened to different music, changed my makeup. When I went out with friends we went to fancy dinners, dressed up and drank nice wines. I loved every moment of it, and still love to do those things, but I’m having so much fun wearing my jeans and flip flops and grabbing a beer at the run-down bar. The bar I would have avoided last year. I feel as though I get to be myself again. I missed me. If given the chance, would I go back and change things? Probably not. I’ve grown a lot and know things about myself now that I probably wouldn’t have learned for a long time.
So, what are you doing tonight? Let’s go be young & irresponsible.
The Moral of the story: Today I love me. Sounds selfish, I know, but true
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Baseball Fields and Summer Nights
Have you ever had a friend that slipped into your life so easy it felt like you’ve known them for years? It doesn’t happen often, but when it does you know it’s special.
I met him at a friend’s barbeque this summer. We spoke a little that night, not much, but later that week I found myself hanging out with him again. He was only here for a month or so, but we made so many memories together. We had a routine. A baseball field at night and a pack of Camel Lights. We would lay in the field and talk. We talked about everything and anything. I told him things I’ve only told my best friend. It sounds romantic, I know, but the amazing thing was we didn’t have to worry about attraction. It was intimate, yes, but only in a friendship way. Looking at the stars, opening up to each other, laughing at the craziness of life. The little time he was here felt like a lifetime.
I’ll never forget our Fever Pitch summer.
The Moral of the story: Today I love Baseball Fields and Summer Nights
I met him at a friend’s barbeque this summer. We spoke a little that night, not much, but later that week I found myself hanging out with him again. He was only here for a month or so, but we made so many memories together. We had a routine. A baseball field at night and a pack of Camel Lights. We would lay in the field and talk. We talked about everything and anything. I told him things I’ve only told my best friend. It sounds romantic, I know, but the amazing thing was we didn’t have to worry about attraction. It was intimate, yes, but only in a friendship way. Looking at the stars, opening up to each other, laughing at the craziness of life. The little time he was here felt like a lifetime.
I’ll never forget our Fever Pitch summer.
The Moral of the story: Today I love Baseball Fields and Summer Nights
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
The Mistake of a Lifetime
I almost married someone I wasn’t in love with a month ago today. This morning I looked at a lotto ticket that has been sitting in my wallet since Saturday. I knew that today they announce the winning numbers, so I pulled it out, and that’s when I noticed the date. It’s the 22nd. I’m surprised how fast the time has gone by, and at the same time I feel as though it’s been a year since I almost married into what surely would have been a disaster.
I called off my wedding almost exactly a month before the date. I’m happy I came to my senses when I did, yet a little part of me wishes that I had that Runaway Bride moment, escaping minutes before the ceremony starts in my full Bride getup in the back of my best friends pickup truck. See, she had it all planned out. She knew that this marriage would have been the end of me. I told her and her husband one morning around 2am, after one drink too many, that I didn’t think I could go through with it. After I finally admitted it the words rushed out. I told them all the gory details of how unhappy I was. They told me they would support me no matter what. Turns out her way of supporting me was not what I expected.
After my 2am confession I had to go back to reality. The next day I drove home, confident in my decision, ready to call things off. The problem was The Ex’s sister and her boyfriend were staying with us for a long weekend. I didn’t want to say anything while they were there, of course, so I ended up playing the part of the doting fiancé. I didn’t realize how easy it would be to slip back into that role. And stay in that role. I decided it would be easier to just go along with things as they were. I was willing to compromise my happiness to avoid one difficult conversation. Looking back I realize how incredibly ridiculous this is.
I remember when I told my best friend that I was going to go through with it. The Ex’s sister had just left and he and I were on our way to go wedding veil and shoe shopping. I was too scared to speak to her because I knew if I did I would have to face the fact once again that my perfect little fairy-tale wedding was in fact a nightmare. So I texted her. She told me that she would stand by me in my decisions but let me know she didn’t agree with me. Then, a couple days later, she called. She told me she could not stand up next to me in my wedding knowing how unhappy I was. I was crushed. It’s hard to face a friend who is willing to say the things that you’re not. I was mortified, too. How was I going to explain to everyone that my best friend, my Maid of Honor, was no longer in the wedding? Needless to say, it didn’t get to that. I called the wedding off.
My best friend since the day I was born and I weren’t speaking. The night I finally got up the guts to call off the wedding I was surprised how easy it was. It came down to one question, asked by The Ex: “Do you still want to marry me?” Once I gave my answer, a simple “No”, it was over. He left the room to call his family, no questions asked. I picked up my phone and called my best friend. I hadn’t spoken with her in over a week. She answered and all I said was her name. She heard my voice, the wobble in the second syllable, and said “I’m on my way”. She picked me up and on the way to her house she told me her plan. If I had decided to go through with it she was going to sit in the driveway of the house on the day of my wedding, pickup truck running, waiting for the call. Because she knew it would come. If only I had known maybe I would have waited to call things off. You only get that photo-op once. (Kidding, of course)
The Moral of the story: Today I love mistakes nearly made and friends who know you better than you know yourself.
I called off my wedding almost exactly a month before the date. I’m happy I came to my senses when I did, yet a little part of me wishes that I had that Runaway Bride moment, escaping minutes before the ceremony starts in my full Bride getup in the back of my best friends pickup truck. See, she had it all planned out. She knew that this marriage would have been the end of me. I told her and her husband one morning around 2am, after one drink too many, that I didn’t think I could go through with it. After I finally admitted it the words rushed out. I told them all the gory details of how unhappy I was. They told me they would support me no matter what. Turns out her way of supporting me was not what I expected.
After my 2am confession I had to go back to reality. The next day I drove home, confident in my decision, ready to call things off. The problem was The Ex’s sister and her boyfriend were staying with us for a long weekend. I didn’t want to say anything while they were there, of course, so I ended up playing the part of the doting fiancé. I didn’t realize how easy it would be to slip back into that role. And stay in that role. I decided it would be easier to just go along with things as they were. I was willing to compromise my happiness to avoid one difficult conversation. Looking back I realize how incredibly ridiculous this is.
I remember when I told my best friend that I was going to go through with it. The Ex’s sister had just left and he and I were on our way to go wedding veil and shoe shopping. I was too scared to speak to her because I knew if I did I would have to face the fact once again that my perfect little fairy-tale wedding was in fact a nightmare. So I texted her. She told me that she would stand by me in my decisions but let me know she didn’t agree with me. Then, a couple days later, she called. She told me she could not stand up next to me in my wedding knowing how unhappy I was. I was crushed. It’s hard to face a friend who is willing to say the things that you’re not. I was mortified, too. How was I going to explain to everyone that my best friend, my Maid of Honor, was no longer in the wedding? Needless to say, it didn’t get to that. I called the wedding off.
My best friend since the day I was born and I weren’t speaking. The night I finally got up the guts to call off the wedding I was surprised how easy it was. It came down to one question, asked by The Ex: “Do you still want to marry me?” Once I gave my answer, a simple “No”, it was over. He left the room to call his family, no questions asked. I picked up my phone and called my best friend. I hadn’t spoken with her in over a week. She answered and all I said was her name. She heard my voice, the wobble in the second syllable, and said “I’m on my way”. She picked me up and on the way to her house she told me her plan. If I had decided to go through with it she was going to sit in the driveway of the house on the day of my wedding, pickup truck running, waiting for the call. Because she knew it would come. If only I had known maybe I would have waited to call things off. You only get that photo-op once. (Kidding, of course)
The Moral of the story: Today I love mistakes nearly made and friends who know you better than you know yourself.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Quick Fix
I woke up late this morning with a headache. Not one of those slam-my-head-into-a-wall headaches, more of a hat-too-tight feeling of pressure. See, last night I went out with a friend I hadn’t seen in a while. My end goal was to drink too much. You know it’s going to be a bad night when you start out that way. Needless to say, I drank too much. And woke up late with a headache.
I’m an avid coffee drinker. When I go to Starbucks you won’t catch me ordering a vanilla-frappe-whipped-foo-foo drink. I want a latte. With 10 extra shots. I take this shit serious. But alas, I had no time for Starbucks this morning. I ran out the door and swung by the gas station on my way to work. The same gas station I had stopped at 5 hours prior to pick up a late night pack of Camel Lights, dirty smoker that I am. And yes, the same attendant was still working. And, of course, recognized me. Drat. He knows I didn’t shower.
Needing my caffeine fix, and no time for ‘real’ coffee, I grabbed one of those Rockstar Coffee drinks. Roasted Latte, to be exact. Now, I’m pretty picky when it comes to my caffeine. I’ll drink the occasional Starbucks Double Shot, but other than that it has to be what I call ‘real coffee’. I must say, Rockstar impressed me. I sucked down my 15 ounces of hangover release and felt fantastic. Healthy? No. Satisfying? Yes.
The Moral of the story: Today I love Rockstar Roasted Latte
I’m an avid coffee drinker. When I go to Starbucks you won’t catch me ordering a vanilla-frappe-whipped-foo-foo drink. I want a latte. With 10 extra shots. I take this shit serious. But alas, I had no time for Starbucks this morning. I ran out the door and swung by the gas station on my way to work. The same gas station I had stopped at 5 hours prior to pick up a late night pack of Camel Lights, dirty smoker that I am. And yes, the same attendant was still working. And, of course, recognized me. Drat. He knows I didn’t shower.
Needing my caffeine fix, and no time for ‘real’ coffee, I grabbed one of those Rockstar Coffee drinks. Roasted Latte, to be exact. Now, I’m pretty picky when it comes to my caffeine. I’ll drink the occasional Starbucks Double Shot, but other than that it has to be what I call ‘real coffee’. I must say, Rockstar impressed me. I sucked down my 15 ounces of hangover release and felt fantastic. Healthy? No. Satisfying? Yes.
The Moral of the story: Today I love Rockstar Roasted Latte
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