It's Not You, It's Me

Hey there Blogger, how have you been? It has been awhile, now that you mention it, since I've actually written a real blog. What's that? A week? Maybe more? Well, who's counting. You look good Blogger, you look good.

Where have I been? Oh, yeah, about that. Maybe we should sit down and talk about something. Blogger? Did you hear me? Blogger...I need to talk to you. Blogger...pause the damn game this is important.

Here, hold my hand. First let me just say that you're awesome...just...awesome. I mean look at all the friends you have! You're fun, and nice and just, awesome. Super awesome. So awesome, in fact, that I think you deserve better. We deserve better, don't you think?

Exactly. We deserve better. Better than this. What? Someone else? Noooo, there's no one else...there's...no one...else...

Okay fine, there's someone else.

Sorry! It wasn't like I went looking for Wordpress, it just sort of found me. And out of respect for you, nothing happened. Hear me? Nothing happened. We've just been hanging out: visiting over coffee, a few late night conversations...just...getting to know each other. At first I thought maybe it was just a phase I was going through. You know, like a mid-life blogging crisis or something, but it's gotten me to re-examine our relationship and now it's all I think about. I just can't live like this anymore. I have to be honest with myself. I have to be honest with us.

Please throw that in the garbage, I just cleaned yesterday. Or throw it on the floor, whatever.

Oh come on, did you really not see this coming? You used to be so attentive and caring; my blog uploaded at breakneck speeds and whenever I had a question you were always there to help. Lately though, as our lives have grown more complex (I added more features and you added more friends), we began to drift apart. Now, my blog is slow to upload and difficult to edit, and nothing I do seems to make you happy. I can't for the life of me figure out why I have two different fonts on my Weight Loss Community Page, and the font colors have become a serious pain in the ass to work with.

And the jealousy, what's that all about? You've not only deleted followers without my permission, but you've even deleted whole posts without my permission...who does that? You say you're letting me follow other blogs, but then I hear from them that you won't let me. It breaks my heart that you would go behind my back like that.

And while we're being honest, the new interface? Really? It's a boring gray color that makes it difficult to read and navigate. Yes, I've already told you that, numerous times, but you just ignore me...like you're doing now...Blogger! As I was saying, it's ugly and cranky. God, I feel like I don't even know you anymore.

So let's just call this for what it is: a fling that's run it's course.

Admit it, when we first got together it was wild and exciting. I was sneaking off in the middle of the night to spend time with you, and you opened my eyes to the exotic world of blogging. Neither of us wanted anything serious, and that's what made it so much fun! But things are different now. I've grown up and what I need from our relationship you just can't provide. I need more than a simple outlet for my writing, I need an advanced layout, one where I can add as many pages and links as I want. I need the ability to upload videos and photos without worrying about bringing my load time to a seemingly excrutiating halt, and I need the freedom to adjust my blog accordingly. Not to mention a little customer support every now and then.

Can you put down the Funyuns for just a second, we're kind of breaking up right now...

Thank you.

Where was I...oh, right. Well, I can honestly say I have no regrets. I mean we did have our good times, didn't we? Remember that time I won a blogging award? That wasn't all me, you contributed too. And I'm sure I'll think fondly of all our familiar places...on the couch, in the bedroom. I've experimented more with you than any other blog hosting site. You were my first, and I'll never forget that. I hope we can still be friends. 

Most important though, we have the followers. They're so beautiful and innocent, and we never would've had them if we'd never gotten together, but that doesn't mean we should stay together for their sake. I've known other bloggers who did that and in the end everyone ended up getting hurt. Besides, the followers are old enough now to understand that we're just not as good together as we used to be. It's better this way, for everyone. Just because you're here and I'm over at Wordpress doesn't mean we're going to screw up they're lives...as long as we stay civil, that is.

And don't worry, I'm not going anywhere just yet. I still have to pack and my new place is going to take a lot of work before it's ready. Plus there are a few things we need to sort out, like which posts I'm going to take with me and how to make this as easy as possible on the followers.

Well I feel better now, I think we needed to get all of that out in the open. Is there anything you wanted to ask me?

No, Blogger, you can get your own damn beer.

Lesson 16: "Interesting" People Are Lame

Let's get one thing straight here; the dictionary defines the word 'interesting' as, "Arousing curiosity, attracting or holding attention or provoking thought." The media's definition?

Well, not that. Contrary to the brainwashed opinion of the general public, The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills (or New Jersey, New York, Atlanta, Orange County, Washington D.C., Miami, Fargo, or wherever), are not interesting. Dramatic maybe, but interesting? No.

To me, the definition of an interesting person is someone who has learned life lessons the hard way, by experiencing them. Someone with a passion for life and the guts to pursue it. A story that starts with, "Well I totally wanted those pair of shoes but then my friend was like, 'Those are hideous,' and I was like, 'Ya, but I want them' and she was like, 'My tongue itches' and I was like,'Your tongue is fat...' " really isn't going to peak my interest for too long.

One person who is interesting? My mom. She got married when she was 16 and moved to Montana where she trained horses for a living. My mom's been a florist, a waitress, a dog groomer, a single mother, a teacher, a cook, and still owns her own ice cream truck. She was married twice and divorced twice (once to a diagnosed psychopath for 20 years), but she's still never lost her innate warmth and sense of humor. She's always up for anything and she never takes life too seriously. My mom has been through life's twists and turns. She's an interesting person.

Another of my favorites, of which I'm not as obviously biased, is an 86 year old man with oversized ears and icey blue eyes. For the sake of confidentiality, we'll call him Jack.

Jack and I met when he was admitted to the psychiatric hospital during one of my nightshifts. Even though he was in the early stages of Alzheimer's, at 6'1" he still had an undeniable presence. One day, while handing him a cup of water, he punched me in the side, bringing me to my knees. After taking some time to gather my thoughts (and resisting the urge to give him a swift kick in the shin), I clumsily made my way to the nurses station positive he'd cracked one of my right ribs. I was informed, however, that I should've been more careful. Had I been given a more accurate report, I would've learned that, back in the day, Jack had been a professional boxer known for his killer left hook. Oh really...

Turns out, Jack had been more than a professional boxer. He'd first been a professional baseball player until he was drafted for WWII. Then, while he was in the Navy, he took up boxing. After the war, he went pro (where he met his wife, who was also a professional boxer). His father, mother, and two brothers had all been musicians (violin, cello, saxophone, and piano). According to his wife, Jack himself played a mean fiddle, which he showed when his entire family (among others) performed for president Truman in 1950.

And he was funny. His wit was the inappropriate kind I find so hilarious. Once, when one of his sons visited:

Jack: "Who the hell are you?"
John: "Dad, it's me, John."
Jack: "No, I know my son John, and you're not him. For God's sake man, you have breasts."
John: "Well, you're going blind. And besides, maybe I like them."
Jack: "I can see why. You look good in a 'B' cup."

He also gave me my boyfriend's all-time favorite quote:

Me: "So what did you like more, boxing or baseball?"
Jack: "Baseball, always baseball. A real ball player never likes anything more than baseball. Hell when he can't play anymore he coaches, and when he can't coach anymore he just hangs around and rakes the field. A dirt diamond is the best place on earth."

He told me stories of the games he played in, the crowds he boxed for and the people he fought alongside in battle. He described places he'd been, the foods he'd eaten, the first time he laid eyes on his wife, and the feel of a fiddle that had been handcrafted just for him. He told me of the night he got drunk in an Irish pub and, "...won a fight over a lass that turned out to be a fella." Another time, he won $6,400 on a dog race only to lose it all in a poker game with Doyle Brunson.

Listening to him tell stories, just as listening to my mother tell stories, is an adventure in itself. People like these two, you see, are interesting. The media, however, would probably classify both Jack and my mother as "boring."

So strange that the opinions of pop tarts and reality stars are valued over those who have real life experiences. I know I'll never see the paparazzi outside my mom's house, questioning her about the latest trends in pantsuits, but I'll take her stories over a fake-baked camera-hungry bimbo any day. Real people have been through real struggles and real triumphs, and the emotions that come with those experiences cannot be scripted.

Someday, I hope to be an interesting person myself. Or better yet, I hope to be a "boring" one. "Interesting" people are lame, it's the "boring" ones that are having all the fun.

Who are your favorite "boring" people?

Babies Have It Made

We leave tomorrow morning for Denver, for Wedding #3. I've been at my brother's since Sunday night visiting him, my sister-in-law and my little niece, who's almost 8 months old. I'm having a great time, but there's something that my niece (who I have described in previous posts as sarcastic and ironic) has brought to my attention: babies have awesome sh*t.

No really, they do. All their toys do, like, a bagillion different things (yes, I just used the word bagillion and 'like' in the same sentence; your welcome valley girls). Their toys move, sing, light up, and all the while, they're teaching you something. Are you kidding me? Put my chemistry lesson in a song and have it sung to me by a dancing, multicolored, light up elephant and I dare you to bet against me in a periodic table stand-off. Usually, my homework gets pushed to the last minute because I'm distracted by something with lots of lights and sounds (read: the television) so I don't see why something even more fabulously distracting wouldn't be a brilliant idea. Heck, it works for babies...

And when did everything in the adult world become so boring? Since I've grown up, everything has a "sleek" and "modern" feel. Well maybe I don't want "sleek" or "modern", maybe I want a phone that's bulky and bright yellow with pink and purple buttons. I guarantee I wouldn't lose it near as often. An elegant chandelier? How about a vivid and vibrant airplane mobile above the dining room table? And screw the silent, stainless steel kitchen appliances, how about a little music every time the refrigerator fills my glass with ice or water, or a fluorescent green stove with blue burners? Ones that change from blue to red to yellow depending on how hot they are. You know, color coded so people like me who, for some reason, completely ignore the fact that just because the burner is off it doesn't mean it's not still hot. Safety first, I always say.

And don't even get me started on clothing. I was wondering through Gap Kids today (which is ridiculously expensive by the way, I wonder how they sleep at night) and I couldn't help wishing I was still 2 feet tall. There was a little snowsuit with footies and mittens attached to the hands and feet, (attached!) with a fuzzy hoody and a built-in face-mask/windbreaker. Why don't they make those for adults? No not snowsuits with mittens and snow boots sold separately, the all-in-one deal, like they did back in the good ol' days when I was apparently...4.

And transportation? I'm even willing to temporarily chill the eff' out about the snail's pace my jet pack is coming along if someone will just answer my question of why the hell don't I have my own stroller? If I could find an adult size one I'm sure my friends and I wouldn't mind trading off with it. How incredibly awesome would it be to get pushed around the grocery store, attempting to cause as much destruction in the cereal isle as humanly possible with absolutely no consequences because, hey, you're in a stroller, you don't know any better. And if you were somewhere that takes forever to get your shopping done (like Wallmart or Costco, where they only have four cash registers open), you could cuddle up with your super-soft blanky and stuffed zebra and take a little nap. Thirsty? Hungry? Fear not, I'm sure any kind of satisfaction is but an arm's length (or a loud warning squeal) away. There are so many pockets and useful gadgets on those things I have no idea why I ever spent my money on luggage in the first place. My suitcase doesn't even have a cup holder.

This trip so far has been eye-opening. I need to get me some cool-ass baby sh*t, except for, you know, adults or something.

 

Wedding Season

I love weddings.

I know, I know, from the perspective of someone who is financially struggling, weddings may seem frivolous, selfish, and over the top. But here's how I see it: it's your wedding, do whatever the hell you want. If that means you cut into a fire breathing wedding cake then damnit pony up the extra dough and get creative with the extinguisher party favors.  Theoretically it's only for one day, right?

Well not quite. Thing is, when you're in my situation, a huge extravagant wedding is completely out of the question. It's the equivalent to the down payment on a house, or a car, or a medical bill. Don't feel bad folks, I'm happy without it. Personally, if my boyfriend and I ever do decide to get married (the chance of which is decreasing in rapid proportion to the increasing number of people pressuring us to do it) I don't want a huge wedding. I'll probably buy some white summer dress I can wear again, have it altered to fit like a glove (read: splurge) and then invite everyone I care about to laugh and dance the night away.

We'll probably go with some kind of potluck dinner. I don't see anything wrong with potluck; if you ask me it makes everything more personal. I'd be honored to have my grandma's infamous potato salad on the menu. Plus considering my significant other brews his own beer, the only thing we'll really have to worry about is providing enough wine for my rambunctious Italian/Spanish Basque side of the family. And in that case I'm willing to shell out the extra cash for a good show.

Trust me, it'll be worth it.

But until then, I'll get my kicks going to others' weddings. Since I don't see myself having a "night to remember extravaganza" anytime soon, I get super excited to attend someone else's. Plus there's no stress. You don't have to worry if the table linens are ironed, if the caterer only brought vegetarian, if the music might be offensive, or how drunk the bridesmaid that refused to wear strapless is going to get even though you really didn't want to include her in the wedding party in the first place but because she's your mom's best friend's daughter you had to play nice and now you kind of hope she gets sh*tcanned and goes to bed early...ungrateful little..

Oh sorry,where was I? 

Oh yeah, weddings, love 'em. And I've got a couple coming up! They're location means a road trip from Billings, MT to Elko, NV to Salt Lake City, UT to Denver, CO and back to Billings. Road trip + two weddings + mini family reunion = a righteous good time. And probably some decent material to blog about.

But in the meantime, I am still a girl, which means any situation warranting the necessity of a mirror can churn up some self-conscious negative comments swirling in my head:

"It's been awhile since you've seen these people, have you gained weight? No? Well it doesn't matter I'm sure they've all lost weight so..."

"Freckles and frizzy hair...can't say that trend ever really took off."

"A green dress? Really?"

Eh, the little voice can talk all it wants. My freckles are awesome, that green dress is one-of-a-kind and besides, I've got other things to think about, like pictures, dancing and cake!! I'm going to have a damn good time, and if my frizzy hair and skinny friends try and get in the way, well I guess I'll just have to give them a good flame-retardant spray-down with my new favorite party favor :).