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.

Something Borrowed, Something Broken

Wedding #2 tonight, and the reception is still going on. So why am I blogging right now?

I mean, come on, I've been looking forward to this wedding. I traveled three hours today (on 4 hours of sleep) and all the while thoughts of drinking and dancing the night away filled my head. The mental picture of myself wearing my favorite polka dot "twirly dress" proved to be fantastic motivation to slightly break the interstate speed limit. Yet here I am, sitting in a hotel room, my "twirly dress" on a hanger, watching the World Series of Poker and sipping hotel water from a plastic cup. I barely even got to have any cake.

Well, sorry to say, my boyfriend got sick, so we had to leave early. I should be pissed, right? Oh please, not in the slightest. The truth is the wedding was beautiful, a picture perfect homage to the Montana lifestyle I love so much. Girls wore sundresses and cowboy boots and guys looked sharp in the nicest pair of jeans they owned. Dogs and little kids played in the background, and a fare of burgers, hot dogs, potato salad, corn on the cob and watermelon tasted perfect on a warm Saturday afternoon. A large tent filled with white Christmas lights cast a soft glow on tables full of beer cans as old baseball teammates told stories of when they all played together in college. I only wore my shoes for the actual ceremony itself. Not because they were uncomfortable, but because the feel of cool grass on my feet was too inviting to pass up.

So should I really even have anything to complain about? Sure some things went wrong, like the fact that I brought my camera but left it's memory card at home, but I can buy a disposable camera at a gas station tomorrow. And so what if I have a minor sunburn, since the ceremony was located in direct sunlight and my skin is one shade darker than your average albino...I'll pick up some soothing lotion when I pick up the disposable camera. It seems some sort of flu medication and a heavy dose of caffeine are going to be on the list anyway, so I wouldn't even be making an extra stop.

In all honesty, I don't mind being in the hotel room now, because I already experienced my favorite part of the wedding: watching the ceremony while holding hands with my boyfriend. It's as if the vows being recited are released into the air, then swirl about and settle upon those who also share in their meaning. Feeling him squeeze my hand and kiss my forehead as two people promise to devote their lives to each other seems to not only acknowledge our own devotion, but strengthen it as well. For a moment, we are in our own world, appreciating the rare level of happiness that can only be reached when one of us is in the company of the other. We're fortunate, and we know it.

So the rest of the wedding festivities, as callous as it may seem, are really quite irrelevant. Whether our time together is spent on a dance floor or spent in a hotel room, I'm grateful for it either way. Anything extra is really just icing on the cake. Delicious red velvet cake, I might add, and I look forward to more later in the week. But if not? No loss, I'll just make some when I get home. Besides, I really don't watch enough poker anyway.

 

New Page: It's OK

So since I've had so many incredibly crappy days this week (read this if you're at all doubtful) I've added a new page to my blog. I'm calling it the It's OK page, and it's pretty much a list of everything I do that makes me feel guilty that shouldn't. So I'm going to keep doing them anyway.

I'm sure you have a similar list. So what's yours? Let me know, I might add them onto mine!

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 :).

      

Am I Normal?

It's happening again.

Recently I had to get a new car (it's a long story) but I don't like it. It rides too smooth and turns with ease. I miss my old Plymouth Duster with no front brakes, a broken speedometer and a leaky roof. I want it back. I feel like it was an extension of myself, something that had been to hell and back and still survived. I named my new car Karen. She is a sleek and shiny '02 Ford Taurus with no dings or dents. She hasn't been through any hardships. She also yells at me to put my seat belt on or when the keys are still in the ignition. I'm a big girl Karen, I don't need your help.

We don't get along. Naggy, bitchy Karen. I miss April and her crooked headlights.

I've also started a new job in the last 2 weeks. The job itself is fantastic, I'm already falling in love with the kids I work with. Adolescent drug addicts tend to get a bad rap, and I'm their confidante as well as their advocate. One teacher I met on the first day said, "Hello! So how do you like working with the druggies?" "Oh I'm sorry," I replied, "I don't know any druggies. Did you mean students?" Burning bridges? I don't care; the kids deserve better.

I see so much of myself in these kids. Their backgrounds, their struggles, their suffering. I see my 14 year old self fighting tooth and nail for some dignity or proof that I am worthy of something. For a chance to be myself. For anything.

But in the last two weeks I've changed. I have a shiny new car, a name-tag, and professional clothes that I wear to an 8-5 job. I'm now a productive member of society. I belong to the group of statistics that labels me a "success" as opposed to my childhood label of "high risk". I've been stamped, categorized, and approved. Domesticated. Like a caged animal.

It's my worst nightmare; people looking down on me with white coats and smiling faces, "There we go, now isn't that easier?" They stare at me like a child. "See how nice we are when you stop fighting? Just follow the rules and life will be easy. Trust us, we know what's best for you." They've fixed me. They hand me a blue ribbon with a smiley face and the words "First Prize: Submissive and Obedient".

I hate it. I yearn for the day when I could run away from home. Hitchhike my way to another city, feel the wind run through my fingers, the rain in my hair and just be alone. Funny how running away when you're an adult is more difficult than when you were a child. Responsibility, rather than authority, ties you down.

In all honesty, I ache for a chance to get out. For a chance to feel like myself again. To feel any sense of adventure and defiance in order to convince myself both characteristics haven't completely deserted me. I feel like a sell-out. Trapped. Condemned to a life of order because the logical side of my brain has convinced the wild side that a life on the road would be less desirable.

But I still want it.

I see the black pavement laid out before me each day on my way to work, and the urge to just keep driving is always there. It doesn' matter where to, I just want to drive. To leave. To feel like I am still in control. To feel like I am still free.

Maybe I'm weird.

The only thing holding me here is my boyfriend. While he doesn't understand, he is still supportive. When I said I was going to Italy, his first question was, "When?" instead of "What? Why?" He knows my need to run is overwhelming, but he doesn't question it. He is also aware of my deep seated fear of being tied down, which is why he has stood by me when others pressure us to get married or buy a house. He is the only thing I have never had the urge to run from.

The view out my window only shows house after house, with neatly trimmed hedges and large cottonwoods strategically planted 50 feet apart. Kids play, dogs bark, old men water their lawns. It is peaceful.

Am I such a horrible person not to want this? Not to yearn for the day when I push a stroller up the sidewalk while comfortably jogging to a familiar mix of songs on my IPod? Or to save my money for a new camera or Rosetta Stone instead of hair treatments and shoes? To excitedly look forward to the day when I am backpacking around a live volcano instead of planning family BBQ's around one of my children's birthdays?

Am I being selfish? I don't feel unappreciative of what I have, but am I acting like it?