Archive | October, 2013

Crazy Cat Lady

30 Oct

August 12, 2013 – – There are many days I wonder if I am destined to become the crazy cat lady in the weird smelling apartment upstairs. I don’t want pets, but every once in a while I consider getting one. I convince myself not to because there is too much responsibility involved, but someday it is feasible that I won’t shy away from responsibility as much as I do now. That’s not really the point though is it. It’s never about the cats its about the lady upstairs. Its about living a life of solitude and letting it drag you into the abyss.

I like my time on my own, but every so often I crave interaction So much so that I’ll go out to the store or to buy a coffee so I can talk to an actual human being.

That had been the hardest part of this move. Now that basic needs are accounted for, I ache for the social life I had in New England. Ache to be able to call up a friend I have known for years and grab dinner. LP is wonderful to have, but she is not enough, especially now that she spends every aching moment with her new and improved bf of the moment and doesn’t even care to spend time with anyone else.

There I go exuding that bitterness I can’t seem to keep in check.

I was watching a movie tonight (currently watching actually its just that boring and I wish I could stop but I have a problem with not finishing things) and there was some guy living in an abandoned building trying to kill the main character. He literally went insane from the solitude. Although, to keep things in perspective, the main character went insane from a different kind of solitude. He was surrounded by many and had no one he new intimately. The dichotomy of those characters is extremely interesting to me.

Growing up the adults in your life tried to convince you that its not about the amount of friends you had but the quality of the friendships. In your formative years, however, it doesn’t feel that way. The more friends you have translates to your popularity, and popularity is important. The more people that like your company the more worthy of their time you must be.

Clearly at this stage of my life I have for the most part moved beyond that mode of thinking, but the older you get the more difficult it also is to make those close friendships. You are simply not thrown into the same social situations you once were and when you are a work-a-holic like myself most of the people you meet are from the workplace which can become difficult to balance.

I began by talking about the crazy cat lady many of us ladies fear becoming. I think we fear the loneliness, the solitude, the feeling of worthlessness we battled with in our childhood. We fear losing the intimate connections that make us human. It is an irrational fear for most of us, peeking out from behind the curtain in our weakest moments. Many of us cling to shallow friendships in an effort, no longer to prove or popularity, but to attempt to build an arsenal for the future.

Unless I crawl under a rock for the next fifty years, I fully intend to live a full and active life with an ever changing flow of new and old friends, but the “what if” always remains. Always fights to be heard and acknowledged. We are the only ones that control that fate. We have the power and it is our insecurities and doubts that try to strip us of that. The key is to ignore the voices of negativity and embrace the powerful, vivacious  people we have all the potential to be. Easier said than done, but none the less a battle worth fighting.

Tucker Max Drunk

29 Oct

There are nights you expects to be full of shenanigans and know the next morning you are going to regret most of your decisions. I call them rock star nights – party hard, crash hard, try to remember where you left your wallet…and panties.

Then there are the nights you intend to be a quiet outing with a few friends, innocently believing you will have a drink or two then return home at a reasonable hour so  you can discreetly fall asleep watching Netflix. Only things do not go as planned and the next morning you are jolting awake, head screaming, trying to fit the pieces together.

I refer to this as Tucker Max drunk. I don’t think TM himself would necessarily categorize such an event as such himself, but as I never achieve this level intentionally, I find it my prerogative to create the category in my personal life.

One morning on a Thursday in July, I awoke after such a night. I was late for work, clothes were strewn all over my apartment, and my body was aching in every way possible. The memories came back in flashes, but to this day I cannot recollect what inspired me to pee in the sink. Yes, dear reader, walking out into the kitchen I discovered the unmistakeable odor of urine in my sink with no clear idea of what lead to that occurrence. I bleached the shit out of everything and resolved to not drink for a week.

How did this come to be? Well, let’s start a the beginning. I have Wednesdays off and from time to time I participate in a little day drinking while I take care of things around the house (bills, laundry, cleaning, yoga, yada yada). This particular Wednesday I had indulged, but not overly…until LP came home from work. She invited me to Toby Keith’s and that was the end of that.

Drinks ensued and at some point I lost track of how many and what I was doing. LP’s friend came with us and between the two of them they got me to ride the mechanical bull at the bar as I threw back more drinks than I should have been able to ingest.

By the time we got home I was ready to crash, but I am stubborn. For some reason that night I decided I needed to pee…but not in the toilet, in the kitchen sink.

I didn’t remember the next day, but instinct knew it was me.

It was the first in a series of incidents. The sink, the dish washer, my closet…for a handful of weeks, this was my pattern and amusement.

One questions one’s motives when one gets drunk enough to justify such behaviors. And then one read the Tucker Max autobiographies. I recommend them to anyone who feels their lives have hit the toilet because this man will make you feel better about ALL of your mistakes.

The Modern Gentleman

26 Oct

A lot of girls I know, really, probably most girls out there, get caught up in the idea of being swept off our feet by some prince charming. I’m pretty sure I’ve talked about this before, and the improbability of it. This is as much our fault as the men.

I’m not going to go on another rampage about that. Instead I’m going to talk about a recent observation I’ve made.

Maybe Prince Charming and his white horse as we imagine them aren’t a likely reality, but what if he just morphed into something else and we just have to adjust our perspective a bit? We don’t live in the middle ages anymore. Women have achieved so many things and society has changed with us. That doesn’t mean that some tradition didn’t survive.

“Gentlemen” don’t walk around in top hats and morning coats. They don’t “court” the girls they wish to pursue with supervise visits and chaste kisses on the veranda. I would argue, however, that this doesn’t mean some men haven’t been able to take these ideas and adapt them to this new era.

Now that we no longer live in the world of Downton Abbey and Pride and Prejudice, what are the signs of a real gentleman? (In no particular order)

1.  Putting the seat down
2.  Making a fresh pot of coffee before you wake up
3.  Letting you pick the sappiest girly movie and not complaining
4.  Asking whether you want to be on top or on the bottom
5.  Sending you flowers after he knows he was an ass hole
6.  Trying something really corny just because it sounds romantic
7.  Making you a play list
8.  Picking up the take out
9.  Opening the door (an oldie but a goody)
10.  Not letting you insist on splitting the check (unless you really get stubborn about it)
11.  Getting up with you before work even if he can sleep in later than you
12.  Wearing your favorite shirt just because he knows you like it
13.  Doing the chore you reeeeeeally hate (cause its icky)
14.  Texting you to see how your day is going
15.  Making voice contact when possible in lieu of a text
16.  Just buying the damn tampons
17.  Bringing home your favorite candy (mmm Sweedish Fish)
18.  Making sure you know he’s alive when he’s been out drinking
19.  Loves his mother and treats her like a Queen
20.  and perhaps most importantly, telling you that he likes/loves/cares/admires you because he knows you need to hear it

The Wedding

25 Oct

June 2013 – – This past weekend I flew into Massachusetts for a wedding. Three days, three nights, and a whirlwind of catching up with whoever I could. Not all the stories are notable to anyone outside myself and the rag tag circle of friends I spent my time with, but I do want to chronicle the wedding experience.

After seeing my parents off to Newfoundland, a shower, and throwing all the things I would need for the day in a bag, my good friend from high school, Red Sox Cowboy met me at my house and we were off. Mi encantadora had called me earlier in the day and asked if I would mind lending a hand setting up. Of course I said yes because I love her and I would bend over backwards for just about any of my friends. The problem was that she didn’t give me a time so I just planned to leave around one and be up there five hours early. As I am getting ready, she texts me to tell me they are at the reception hall. Crap! I tell her I’ll get there as soon as possible, but I hadn’t left yet.

RSCowboy arrives, we head up and after several reroutes because my GPS could find a way around a bridge that was out, stupid thing, we finally get there…but no one is there. Fail number one. The wedding wasn’t stating until 7 so RSCowboy and I decided to go pregame a bit at Chilis then grab a bottle of vodka and head to the beach. That killed almost enough time and after driving around (to use a How I Met Your Mother reference) eating a sandwich, we got to the church with plenty of time to change and be ready for the ceremony.

Only the ceremony started at 5:30 and we were an hour late. Fail number two.

Running into the church, not entirely sober, dressed in short shorts and a tshirt, clearly not my finest moment. Not to mention I met former coworkers in the paring lot who were extremely confused about my attire. After beelining it to the bathroom, changing so fast I almost fell over more than once, and doing my best to make sure my make up didn’t look whore-ish, we went to the reception sight and as inconspicuously as possible found seats. 

The reception was a blur. Between the alcohol I began consuming to quell my nerves and embarrassment, and the trips to the parking lot with old friends to have a couple more…sandwiches…I am surprised I was upright. 

Have I mentioned I don’t do weddings?

Regardless, it was nice catching up with everyone, and even nicer to see the bride and her sketch-ball hubby finally tie the knot (I mean they’d been dating for like a million years…or seven…same dif). I did leave the shin dig with all of my belongings, a nice party favor, and a new hat (that I really should return). 

“To be what we are, and to become what we are capable of becoming, is the only end of life.”

24 Oct

May 2013 – – For the past few months there has been a hole in my life, initially easy to ignore, as of late easier to blame on missing family, friends, and the place I’ve called home for over 20 years…about a week ago, within the spanse of 48 hours the dawning realization occurred to me that although these things do in fact have an impact on my inner peace, the majority of the emptiness has been having no where to put my deeper need to put my healing hands (for lack of better terminology) to use. I missed my work, yes a job is important, but that driving force that put me in this profession in the first place is tantamount. I finally have a whole new gaggle of kiddos whose lives I can’t wait to be a part of.

After three long days of training and two days of shadowing, I was finally settled into a new rhythm and doing what I do best. Its not perfect, and not all of it is roses, but its fulfilling in a way that making coffee in a cafe could never be. It may just be because I am new, but it feels good to quickly have become a requested staff member.

It feels even better that within a half hour on my first day I had a client connecting with me and processing some tough stuff she was going through. These kids are so lost and most of them find it so hard to trust people that it is an honor to be so easily accepted as someone she could talk to.

Then the first day I was alone in a dorm after training I had to give a consequence out. I hate consequencing, always have. I used to work in a group home, a much different setting, but similar kinds of kids, back when I first graduated college. It was a difficult adjustment for me. The shy awkward kid I once was peeked it head out and taking the authority role on was a big step. Being here in a similar position adjusting so easily made me think back and see all the strides I have taken in the last five years. I always thought of my four years in school being the formative years, the ones that changed me and made me who I am. However, every once in a while a moment comes that reminds me life is a process of changing. Sometimes it is fast and hard and sometimes it is slow and steady, but it is a constant process.

Finally, I am thankful for supportive coworkers. They may not realize the impact of little acts of kindness, but they are enormous and meaningful. I feel connected to this place because of the people that surround me and I am immeasurably grateful for the opportunity.

Coffee v Beer

23 Oct

Its a two-fur day!

YUP! JK but seriously I do some of my best work while half intoxicated…puts a whole new perspective on things.

Brunette Bitches

23 Oct

***This was legitimately written a couple years ago, one of my first drunk tirades actually (AAAWWWWW). I never finished it because I passed out and could never find the appropriate level of rage again. I don’t remember the context, but I do remember the girl and I still hate her to this day despite TOGA continuing to insist on maintaining his friendship with her.***

In general I consider myself somewhat of a drunk bitch. Tonight I am caught up in the phenomenon that is me and the people I chose to surround myself with. In general, I feel as though I eventually figure it out, but I always end up attracting the annoying individuals in the process. Maybe its me.

I’m talking about Furburger right now (and she has earned her name through Toga and the like…I don’t think even I could stoop to give her a name so low).

If you can’t tell I’m drunk…and in the northern country. I miss it up here, but instead of getting al sappy and reminiscent, I’m going to get bitchy and judgmental.

Unintentional Hiatus

22 Oct

I have been neglectful of my blog the last few months. I know that the world at large probably care far less then I care myself, but I need to make it up to you…and by you I mean myself.

I am returning from a trip back East tomorrow and am determined to be more focused on not slacking off.

As a means of initiating this new determination, I will be posting over the next few days posts that have been in my draft box for…well…a while (9 to be exact, and several more started in my brain area).

They are old and not in any way a reflection of my life/thoughts/romantic standing in real time, but after I have posted most if not all, next week I will post a real time update.

That’s all for now.

PR out.

Where one story ends another begins

22 Oct

Dear HB,

It has been a while since I have written to you. I still think of you often, but lately it has been out of nostalgia for good times with old friends than anything else. I do miss you and hope you are well. It sounds like you are based on random facebook updates I find and the occasional mention you receive in conversation with the Wizard.

Tonight I have a reason to write you. I want to tell you some news! I have found someone. Maybe that is not something you want to hear because I am sure part of you still wishes me eternal misery for the hurt I inflicted, but I hope part of you can be happy as well.

I am changed drastically from the girl that broke your heart, and in large part that is because of the love and care you showed me when I truly was underserving of something so generously given. You showed me a door out of the bitter and secluded world I had built for myself, and I am sincerely sorry I could not go through it with you. With that said, I do believe everything happens for a reason.

You made me believe again in unconditional love and gave me the hope that someday I would be worthy of such a thing. My only hope is that out of the pain, you found something as well. I would like to think that our time together gave you the strength to go out into the world and really be vulnerable in a way you hadn’t been in years. That perhaps out of contention came courage to move forward.

That is what I would like to think anyway. The only proof I have of this, however, is your upcoming nuptials with your lovely fiance.

Perhaps that is my wishful thinking, but I still owe you a resounding thank you for the beauty you created in my life. If there is anyway I can ever repay you know that I would be willing and thrilled.  I fervently wish you the best, and even if our paths never cross again you will always be an irreplaceable piece of my history.

Your friend,