A Toast To My Best Friend On Her Wedding Day

 Often times, the best things in our lives come from decisions we don't even have to spend any time considering. They become innate truths that are realized with ease and a full commitment as naturally as rain soaks into the earth. Those gifts in our lives, I believe, are given to us right at the perfect moment. That moment when you didn't think you had a chance to have it all and be really happy. When you almost made peace with settling for the position you were are in. But God wouldn't let that be enough for Maggie, and in walked Daniel.

I have had the unique opportunity to see the transformation in Maggie when she instinctively allowed Daniel to soak into her life and heart. I watched her, and her faithful confidence, fall in love with a man that quickly balanced my best friend in ways that only made her amazing spirit brighter and her compassionate heart deeper. I watched in “ah” and boasting pride as Daniel became a father to Lorelei and made their house a true home. Today I raise my glass to the most inspiring success story of two people that trusted their hearts, took a risk and gained love stronger than they ever knew possible! Maggie and Daniel, thank you for setting the bar so high for me and remember, live every day like it's your last and live every night like it's your first.

Lets Not Waste Each Other's Time

Over the last few weeks, I've been spending time with a bartender at a restaurant across the parking lot from where I work. He is also a regular at our store so we have had the same friends in common for a while now. It's only been within the last month that he has been going out for drinks with us and two weeks ago we started spending time alone. He is a wonderful guy and really has a lot to offer someone, but I'm pretty sure I knew right away that I wouldn't be that girl. After two weeks of getting to know him better, I stand firm in my initial decision that even though he is a good guy, he isn't going to be MY guy.

I'm proud of the way I handled this situation. I was very honest and never lead him to believe I was deeper into this relationship than I really was. The bottom line is that we are too different. I will openly admit all the ways we differ, but please don't misunderstand this as me making fun of him, I hold him in my highest respects which is why I am not letting him waste his time on me.

I am a tall curvy woman who has plenty of body image issues. With that being said, I feel the sexiest, safest and most comfortable around men that are taller and thicker than me. If it is the other way around, my body issues are WAY WORSE. This particular man is at least 3 inches shorter than me and as much as I'd like to be one of those women who don't care....I'm just not. I feel HUGE around him. He stayed the night with me three times and all we did was cuddle (seriously, no hanky panky). But, because of the height and body type differences, I was not comfortable cuddling at all. I only fell asleep by not touching him which seems to defeat the purpose of him being there to begin with. The way I like to cuddle is by snuggling up beside a man whose long and strong arm holds me while I  fall asleep on his chest. That scenario really just isn't an option with him.

I am a music lover through and through, but I am the first to admit that I do not love all music. Generally, if there is screaming or incomprehensible lyrics, I'm not going to like it. I know plenty of people do like it and have good reasons for it Maybe like it to hype them up for a game or to work out to, but to me, all it is a screaming and just horrible all around. Of course the bartender loves such music. I think he especially likes heavy metal and industrial music. Even though I don't think I really know what industrial music is, if he is pairing it with metal I'm 99% sure I couldn't handle it.  Being able to tolerate each others music and have some kind of joint appreciation is pretty important to me. I would love to have someone open my mind to new music that I eventually fall in love with, but I already know I can not stand the screaming shit.

I walked into his apartment last night and it was honestly the final piece into who he was that solidified our mismatch. He had Star Wars figurines still in the packaging on display on his living room bookshelf. He had a lot of artwork of mystical anime type characters on most of his walls and a skull with one eye on his bottom shelf. He is a big gamer and has over thirty friends on his X-Box. I'm not judging, but I just don't know how to relate to people who spend that much time playing games.


He has a wonderful relationship with his sister and it is clear that they care deeply about each other. That is always a great thing to see since I hold family so near and dear to my heart. His parents have been married for over forty years and he seems to come from a strong and loving family. All of that is really just amazing but one of the things he has in common with his sister, is that they both like to dress in Gothic clothing and go to parties that way. Black from head to toe with back eye liner and lipstick. I know everyone has their interests and maybe people think it's crazy that I have cowboy boots and a hat.....but there isn't ONE LITTLE PART of me that is attracted to a man in black eye liner and lipstick. Of course, he doesn't dress like this all the time or anything, but still the type of person that EVER would is really just not my kind of guy.

In a polite way, I did tell him all this last night. It's not easy to say these things to someone who cares about you knowing all the ways you are different from them and not caring. Apparently us being so physically different as well as having completely different interests doesn't seem to phase him. What worries me about all that though, is that he mentioned how lonely and slightly desperate he was to be in a relationship. That is not a good combination. He has a lot of self discovery to get through and just being in a relationship with SOMEONE isn't going to help him through this phase in his life.  I will remain his friend and I really hope he gets back in school and starts to rebuild his life because I think it will give him the confidence he needs to find a woman who will actually complement him and share in all his interests, because I'm clearly not that girl.

The Last Fifteen Minutes of My Day

Living on the third floor of my apartment building was a horrible decision that I tend to hate myself daily for making. Since I hate to take more than one trip from car to front door, I load myself up with everything I need to take in with me and slowly, and painfully, hike up the three sets of cement stairs. Tonight seemed exceedingly painful because yesterday I waited tables for ten hours straight due to the Mother's Day rush, and today I worked my day job then returned to the restaurant for another severing shift. My feet just seem to be constantly sore. I actually don't remember the last day they didn't hurt. Regardless, I had to get upstairs loaded down with a bag of work clothes, my purse, leftover food from the restaurant, a Walgreens bag of shampoo and tampons, cell phone and keys. The very sweet rose that a "friend" left on my windshield was held by my teeth since that was literally the last option. Once I turned to start walking up the third and final set of stairs, I feel my body deciding that if I just stopped there and called it a night...it would be cool with that. I guess the outdoor landing between the floors might have been cold but apparently still an acceptable option for bed tonight. Maybe I could use the cardigan from my work outfit as a blanket and the bag as a pillow. I would have a late night snack and tampons (just in case).
Luckily I fought the urge to give up and pushed through the last set of stairs. After I coordinated the, always awkward, fumble to still hold the contents in my arms AND unlock the door, I literally dropped everything just past the entryway. The entryway is where everything ends up. It reminded me of what my mother used to do growing up. She would create a pile of things next to the top of the stairs of things that needed to go downstairs and eentually it would all get down there. It was almost like an assembly line. Car to entryway, sits at entryway for a few days, eventually gets properly put away. It's a slow process, but effective.
As I was busing my last table tonight, I dropped a ramekin of ketchup. If you have ever waited tables in an establishment that has hardwood floors, you know what happens when you drop a full ramekin. It doesn't just drop and spill on the floor, it bounces and flings its contents with every impact with the ground. Luckily, this time there were no guests left in the restaurant. The last time I dropped a full ramekin, we had to buy the food for three tables because BBQ sauce ended up on at least 6 people. Tonight though, the floor, wall, table and me, from forehead to toe, were its only victims. So after dropping everything at the entryway, getting this gross uniform off and washing my face and bangs were top priority.
Finally, the day came to an end and I was allowed to crawl back into my, not-so-comfortable bed with extremely flat and unsupportive pillows, and try to turn off the"To Do" list that seems to run in a loop in my head. I turned on my Eric Hutchinson Pandora station and pulled the sheets over my head. I'm in my quiet, safe and peaceful place. In an attempt to relax, I ran through my tried-and-true-tricks-to-help-Bobbe-sleep arsenal. First, I mentally walk myself through a meditation exercise I learned when I took a music therapy workshop in college. It's usually more effective when someone else is leading the exercise but I still try it. Essentially, you start from your toes and tell yourself to focus on relaxing your toes specifically. Next your ankles, calf  muscles, knees, thighs and so on up your body all the way up to your forehead. It helps a little, but I tend to go through the process too quickly and it has never been as relaxing as when the instructor lead us eleven years ago.
During that "meditation," I also tend to sigh a lot. My friends make fun of me for this because I do it anytime I'm trying to relax, whether it's in the back seat during a road trip, or on the beach stretched out on a towel tanning. Something about taking deep breaths and slowing releasing the air forces me to slow down and only concentrate on my breathing, which helps to drown out the irritating loop in my head. Finally my last get-the-fuck-to-sleep trick is rocking myself. That sounds ridiculous actually, and is probably more accurately described as wiggling my butt in an effort to simulate being rocked. I'm on my side when I do this and generally keep it up until the effort of wiggling exhausts me and I fall asleep. I'm not going to overthink how needing to be rocked could be the topic of a couch session with a therapist and just breeze past it because all that matters is that I GET to sleep; not the crazy process I have to take to get there. Mission accomplished.

Let's Go Back to 1950

Ask your parents about their first date. It most likely went something like this; your Dad called your mother and asked to take her to dinner and maybe a movie, they agreed on a time and he drove to her house and picked her up. He would pay for both activities, and if he was lucky, he might hold her hand or get a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night. Your Dad called and repeated a similar evening the next weekend, and so on. Your Dad didn't flirt with her at a bar all night and give her his number with this instructions to text him sometime. He didn't text her late at night after a couple drinks to just have idle flirty banter. He would never have only asked to see her at a bar with lots of other people with no intentions of even buying her one drink. And he most certainly didn't kiss your mother with no further intentions to act on seeing her again. Men these days are lazy, broke and egotistical. I don't know if I'm more mad at myself for playing along and pretty much just taking what I can get when I've always known in my heart it hasn't been good enough or if I'm mad at the men for being so damn douchey! So I've decided to put my foot down. I have created a new check list,  you could even call it my commandments of self respect.

I will only give out my number with the instructions that I expect a call, not a text, as our first communication. The last few men I have been attracted to, flirt with me and give me the impression that things are going on the right track. By the end of the night he asks for my number and immediately calls it to make sure he had it right. Then, either later that night, or within the next day or two the texts start. "Hey this is whoever, we met the other night. How are you today." This normal conversation goes on and on for days! I know I'm a very busy person and don't always have the opportunity to talk on the phone, BUT I think if a guy is really interested he will. He will ask for the best time to call and chat. Even if that chat is basically a conversation about scheduling a date....that takes 3 minutes tops! I don't think men can even try to say that texting is easier because of fear of rejection because I already gave you my freakin' number. Obviously I'm interested! What could you possibly be nervous about? Grow up, be a man and ask me out properly. In that same respect, I can not let guys get away with NOT calling.

I will never initiate a call or text conversation. If I haven't crossed his mind naturally, I'm not going to reach out and misinterpret his response as him thinking about me. I know women are much more independent these days, and for the most part, I am one of them, but I just don't trust men anymore to be honest. Sure he got my number, sure there was flirting and maybe even some kissing, but if the only time I hear from him is after I reach out first, then I'm just REMINDING him of me. I don't want to have to remind anyone of me. I want to be important enough or at least intriguing enough to not leave his mind at all. Being forgettable is fundamentally crushing and I'm tired of setting my self up to be merely a reminder.

People who are attracted to each other go on dates, people who are using each other for physical comfort come over late after drinking.  I have no intention of using or being used so I will never misinterpret coming over late to watch a movie as a real date. Now, I understand that times are a little tough these days and we might all be pinching our pennies a little more than usual and maybe a date in is really the only option. I get that, but make it special! Clean the house, cook dinner and have an activity that took planning. Not just a movie, cause you can't talk during a movie. I think "do you want to come over and watch a movie" is usually code for "wanna come over and not talk to me while I try to sleep with you."

This is fair warning boys, I'm tired of your lazy and selfish behavior and I'm pretty sure most single women will agree with me on this. Grow the hell up and treat us with respect! Say what you mean and make good on what you say. Stop playing games and just go back to the tried and true successfully method of NORMAL DATES! And women, we need to demand better. If we keep letting men slide by with this behavior they will just keep doing it. Let's put our foot down and agree to make these guys work a little harder and us hold out longer!

Learning Basic Girl Skills at 31

In January, I decided to get my ears pierced again. The upcoming weddings of two of my best friends nudged me in a grow-up-and-be-a-real-girl direction even though I had previously thought I'd never care about getting my ears pierced again. I never really thought it would enhance my appearance at all and the whole idea of one more accessory trend to keep up with was slightly overwhelming. But, for some reason, I changed my mind.
Coming from a family of all girls, any girlie milestone was made ceremonial and drastically more dramatic than in most families. And when I say all, I do mean the big one too. That momentous occasion even deemed balloons!  Though I think I actually bought into my mother's hype for each event, whereas my older sisters were probably too cool. The set legal age for the Montgomery girls to get their ears pierced was nine, and I think I was counting down the days until my that birthday. As wise as my mother is, I think she missed a few very important signs about my character traits that year. Earlier in the year she told me long hair was a privilege and if I continued to only brush the front and hide the rest in a knotty ponytail, she would cut it off. Let's just say that by the time I got my ears pierced I had very short hair and of course my ears got infected.

Right before my eighteenth birthday, my roommate and boyfriend suggested I get them pierced again. Clearly I was much more responsible and clean nearly a decade later. I went and got them pierced again but when winter came and I had to walk across campus in seriously freezing weather I started to rethink having metal, cold rods in my ears. It felt like I had icicles in my earlobes every time I stepped outside. I was right about being more responsible, but I didn't anticipate me being a big baby.
So, here I am, further than I've ever been in the ear piercing saga though I clearly have not overcome the baby tendencies I had years ago. I was afraid I'd chicken out on the whole process so I asked my best friend, Margaret,  to come with me to get them pierced. Besides the fact that I was given a teddy bear to hug at the kiosk nearly in the middle of the mall and that Margaret's three year old daughter was calmer than me, I did not chicken out. I was compulsive about cleaning my ears...actually had the solution with me just about everywhere I went. I have made it through the six weeks of establishing a nice clean hole and it is safe to take the starter earrings out. Actually, they were ready two weeks ago. For some reason....I was scared to take them out.
Finally, I decided I was going to bring the new earrings to work and on my lunch break I would give it a go. As I'm standing in front of the mirror in our back bathroom trying to take out the starter earrings, I notice my ear getting really red and I could feel myself getting really hot. Finally the damn thing came lose. I clean my ear and the new earring and attempt to put the new earrings in. It's not working...I can't seem to clasp the earring on the back side. I start to sweat and my chest turns bright red. I'm having a full on panic attack and irrationally fear that in the time it takes me to secure my earrings, the hole will close. Of course that didn't logically make sense but that's what was going on in my mind. Finally I just decide to abort the whole damn mission and put the starter earrings back in and wait until Margaret is around to help. Yes, I acknowledge that I am a really big baby.
Over this past weekend, I decided to give it another shot. This time was actually super successful, in the fact that the starter earrings were removed and the hoops my sister bought me 7 years ago were securely dangling. Well, they were for at least 10 minutes until I started to feel really self conscious. THEY LOOKED HUGE! Every time I looked in the mirror all I saw were earrings! Big silver, eye catching earrings. I'm sure that's the whole point of earrings....but I'm just not used to it. I think I'm going to have to start out with a smaller pair of hoops and work my way up because I seriously felt that they were taking over my face! So right before I left the house, I ran back to the bathroom and changed them back to my safe little starter earrings. But, I do feel more confident about changing them myself...so that's a step in the right direction. I just need some "training wheel" hoops to ease into this whole girlie thing.

A Bunch of What Makes Me, ME!

When a man says he will call and doesn't, I'll always want to think it's no big deal, but will really know that if he can forget to call, then I am forgettable.

I will always carefully craft my criticisms towards those I love to be gentle and nonthreatening, even if they don't take the same care for me.

Even if I am not dating anyone on Valentine's Day, I will always hope for flowers and a note from a secret admirer.

No matter how interesting and compelling I think I am, I will always be jealous when a man I like, pays attention to a skinner woman.

Hallmark commercials with returning soldiers around Christmas time will always make me cry.

Nothing makes me feel more safe than the embrace of a strong man.

Every time I walk to my car  I will always secretly hope there is a note left on my windshield.

It will always be slightly hard for me to relate to people that don't drink.

I will continue to be friends with people that I know in my heart don't need my friendship just in case one day they do. 

I will always hope that Karma is real.

The song "Movin' On" by Rascal Flatts will always remind me of how I felt when I moved to Tennessee.

Sniffling, slurping and snoring will always have the potential to send me into a fit of rage. 

Sunflowers will always be the way to my heart....and Jack Russell puppies. 

I will never understand how my father could walk away from his three girls and I pray everyday my children will never know what that feels like.

People that call themselves Adele fans but only jumped on the bandwagon after "21" went platinum pretty much piss me off.

I will always believe in my soul mate.

I will always want fries as my side item though I hope to have the strength to ask for broccoli. 

There will always be parts of me that I am ashamed of and pray to still be loved for.

Nothing makes me feel better than making someone else's day.

I will always be more attracted to a man who is a sarcastic asshole to the world but a sensitive romantic to his lover

It will always be easier for me to stand up for others than myself.

I will always seek my sisters' approval no matter how old I get.

I will always underline the perfect words on a birthday card that reflect my true feelings before mailing it.

When I hear a song I really like, I will always look back in my relationship history for the guy who most fits that song. 

I will always be a bad speller and use horrible punctuation.

A strong man who is happy to do everything for me but knows I can do it myself is a gift from God. 

I will always be a teacher and a musician at heart and hope to return to them both one day.

During the week of my birthday, I walk into every room secretly hoping it's a huge surprise party.

I will always have short stubby nails (unless they are fake).

I have always worried that my fear of settling will turn into me never choosing at all.

New Year, New Bridge

Even though I know that I started last year, and the year before, with this same blindingly optimistic  attitude, I can't help but feel like this year really IS different. This year has to be my turn to get it all together. Just looking at the odds really....it's clearly my turn.  I am not tramped in any illusion that there is a magical Get-Your-Shit-Together-Fairy that will wave her little pixie wand, blow some fairy dust on me and all will magically fall into place. I understand that the only fairy out there that can do that will have to come from inside of me. I have to get motivated and light that fairy's ass, and I think 2012 will be the year I do that.
I recently met someone who keeps a large hand written list of his top ten goals for the new year on the wall in his room. We reviewed it together and many of the things on his list from last year he either accomplished, or at least had a better handle on at the beginning of 2012. I was impressed because that list had remained on his wall all year. He stared at it during times of defeat and crossed things off in times of victory. I was actually pretty envious of his ability to focus his goals into ten precise and attainable goals. Not these large concepts I seem to develop that are vague enough to not have to clearly say if I actually DID them at all. My favorite all encompassing, but completely useless resolution, was to be more selfish. That one makes me laugh because, even though, generally, I think that is a good goal, it's the specifics that I need to focus on. I don't want to be a selfish person and I would never resolve to actually discard others. What I technically mean, is to put what's best for me first. My health, my ethics, my finances, my mental health and my career. Those five, slightly more specific subtitles are still not focused enough. So in an effort to be completely candid and honest with myself, I will list my specific top ten.

Health

1. Run a Half Marathon 

2. Completely quit smoking, no more half-assing it

3. Drink less beer (not wine..that's still ok)

Ethics

4. Stand up for what I believe in, ALWAYS, even if it's unpopular

5. Volunteer within my community

Mental Health

6. Pick up my guitar again and relearn what I worked so hard to learn

7. Start seeing a therapist

Finances

8. Pay off my car

9. Commit to putting at least 50 dollars of every paycheck in my savings

Career

10. Finish updating my resume and apply to at least two jobs a month

I think that is a pretty specific list. Now I need to pin it up on my wall and stare at it until the guilt of making such a public and precise list haunts me into really doing them. Interesting how once you say something out loud, and others hear your thoughts or intentions, it's absolutely unavoidable to try to fulfill them; if for no other reason than to not make an ass of yourself.  So it becomes the accountability more than the personal want that really drives us...but we really do want these things too! Crazy how messed up we are and the things we'll do to trick ourselves into becoming the people we really want to be. I'd be on a reality show if it meant that I could get all ten of these goals accomplished this year. Publicly humiliate me! I don't care...just GET THIS LIST CHECKED OFF! Well, maybe that's a little much. Hopefully just getting a therapist will help and I can save myself the public embarrassment! But in 2013, if I don't get all this accomplished, I'm calling the TV networks!