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!