there's something about detroit. most of you know that i lived there for 10 years. most of you don't know that i left my heart there.
i went back for three days this week... 2 days for work related stuff, and the last day to find the pieces of my heart and try to bring them home. 2 outta the 3 were successful ventures.
there's the underpasses off 696. every time i pass under these, my breathing changes. i exhale and a calm comes over me... no matter how many years i've been gone from there, these underpasses scream to me "you're HOME". funny how time changes things. i moved to detroit as a child. i was BARELY 20, newly married, and terrified. i'd never been to the city. the traffic gave me panic attacks, and the highway system was mind boggling. growing up in Kalamazoo, you had 2 highways. that's it. so to wake up and hear traffic reports that you needed to start the day, to SURVIVE... was terrifying. i was lost for a long time... literally and figuratively.
i was shy and quiet and sheltered.. (true story, hold your shock). i was reserved and meek. i had no voice, no confidence and little moxy. i blended in. i was vanilla.
AND THEN.
i took a job as a waitress at the bar next to our apartment.
i don't know if the girls there actually took pity on me, or they REALLY needed help, but they hired me. and i began "LIVING".
regardless of the reasons i was hired, i was accepted. it was a sports bar that catered to softball teams 7 nights a week. we dressed like hooters girls. the girls were loud, bratty, crazy....... and the guys adored and worshiped the girls. i stood in awe of these girls who laughed too loud, hula hooped on tables, and made too much money. the more they abused the guys, the more money they made. i wanted to be exactly. like. them.
i wore the uniform. i began to yell back at the guys. i laughed, joined in on the whipped cream fights, and took up the pet name that was endearing to all of us--"Hooker".
the marriage didn't last.... not because of the job, but for a million reasons that i don't need to rehash. but the 10 girls were there. they were always there. Mama Rae, the ring leader that had originally taken pity on me and hired me... sat me down after the divorce and told me i had more in me, potential to be something awesome... to open up, let it out, be free. momma rae could have told me to jump off a pier and i would've listened. to this day i owe her everything i have become. she has been the biggest influence and mentor in my life.
but she's not the only one....
heather, the one would could kill you with the look of death or with a swift motion, you'd be in the garbage can before you knew it.. never gave me (too much grief) has shared with me the biggest moments in my life. there was marci, the party girl who was tattooed and pierced and the best walking dictionary on alcohol, but had a heart of gold. rosann, the one with boobs and a heart just as big. sarah, the girl next door who all the guys adored and threw amazing parties. the marzetti sisters: angela.. the mouth that didn't quit and a laugh that would melt your heart and amy, the baby of us, the bikini queen who's sass is STILL unrivaled to this day. amber, the badass that would give you the shirt off her back, or a room in her apartment when you really needed a place to stay...and amy b. who didn't put up with the ball players shit but had such a killer smile, they didn't care... and kristy, who's red hair matched her temper, could party like a rockstar, but her honesty was pure. and dancin' beth.. who was given her name because she could dance anywhere, anytime, to anything.
i loved these girls. i admired these girls. i took little pieces of advice from all of them. i was molded to take the pieces of them that i loved and apply them to my life. the end product is exactly what i wanted... a complete masterpiece that all of us big dog girls share..... we're too loud, we're opinionated and aren't afraid to tell you what's up, we laugh all the time.. especially at the inappropriate stuff, we're tough, we don't put up with your shit, and i'll be damned if we aren't all so stubborn that we WON'T go down without a battle.
(this isn't the blog for the stories for that era, and believe me... there's about a million. seriously. and i'll get there, i promise)
when the Big Dog closed, we all went our ways. we stayed in touch the best we could... i was with them for 6 years.. you don't leave your sisters behind. but time changes, people marry, move, have kids, get "grown up" jobs. so along comes facebook, and here we all are. with the ballplayers that gave us all their money. literally. all the money. we've all got together in the last couple years. it's always the same. the same stories, the same laughter, the same eye-rolling.. the same. amazingly the same. time may have changed dynamics, but it has not changed any of us. you're right, heather... true friendship doesn't see time as 5 years or 5 seconds....it picks up right where it left off.
i'm incredibly lucky to hae a group of friends that have an understanding that bitchface is a term of endearment, hooker is another word for best bud... and i hate you means i love you more than you could ever know.
thank you for all crating the monster that is ME.
i hate you all so much, you bitchface hookers.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
" hey it's ok " dirty little secret edition
HEY... it's monday.. so that means it's time for Hey---it's ok. (because i'm making my own rules today)
SOOOOO....
HEY--it's ok......
*to know every word in songs of musical theater... or from the 1960's.... or by Rogers and Hammerstein. it's also ok to sometimes pretend that you're maria from the sound of music.
*to have dirty little secrets
*to laugh with your girlfriends over the same stories for a decade. it's even better if you all finish the same sentence with the same voice pitch. but no shrieking.
*to still pee a little bit while laughing to adam sandler "at a medium pace"
*to wish you had a pool so you could hire a pool boy.
*to make chocolate chip cookies just so you can eat the batter
*to really believe that you have outgrown Cosmo, but still read it because you just can't bear to subscribe to Woman's Day
*to quote Douglas Adams incessantly because it makes you feel smarter.
*to really not like certain people in this world and not hide the fact from them.
*to wonder what ever happened to pencils
*to accept the fact that if it zips, it DOESN'T always fit.
*to go to the movies by yourself. in your pajamas....and not be ashamed.
so there you have it. the more you know *shooting star*
SOOOOO....
HEY--it's ok......
*to know every word in songs of musical theater... or from the 1960's.... or by Rogers and Hammerstein. it's also ok to sometimes pretend that you're maria from the sound of music.
*to have dirty little secrets
*to laugh with your girlfriends over the same stories for a decade. it's even better if you all finish the same sentence with the same voice pitch. but no shrieking.
*to still pee a little bit while laughing to adam sandler "at a medium pace"
*to wish you had a pool so you could hire a pool boy.
*to make chocolate chip cookies just so you can eat the batter
*to really believe that you have outgrown Cosmo, but still read it because you just can't bear to subscribe to Woman's Day
*to quote Douglas Adams incessantly because it makes you feel smarter.
*to really not like certain people in this world and not hide the fact from them.
*to wonder what ever happened to pencils
*to accept the fact that if it zips, it DOESN'T always fit.
*to go to the movies by yourself. in your pajamas....and not be ashamed.
so there you have it. the more you know *shooting star*
Thursday, September 23, 2010
for the record... we take Hawiian currency.
well, aren't you all so lucky? two posts in two days. unfortunately this is truly a rant blog today.
my mood has been affected by work more so lately than ever. i suppose, who's isn't! long story short, there are a few guidelines in dealing with your waitstaff. (DISCLAIMER: all of my dear friends that come in to visit... THIS IS NOT DIRECTED AT YOU. you guys get it exactly right; i know this because i have never wanted to pry any of your faces off with a shovel.) this is more for the general public. that's not true. i just need to get this off my chest.
* don't order half drinks. no half decaf, half caff. this isn't starbucks. also, don't make your own coke zero by having half diet, half regular. it doesn't work that way. if you MUST order something mixed, please don't give me directions on how to mix it ie: 3/8 diet on the bottom, 1/ 16 regular, and layer accordingly. i don't do fractions.
*also, don't put hazelnut creamer in your pop.
keep that dirty little secret at home.
*don't invent your own menu. 1... MAYBE 2 substitutions.. don't be all rachel ray. you've already been labeled high maintenance, and nothing is ever gonna be what you want.
* if you need a napkin... ask for a napkin. don't unroll all the silverware on the table. silverware doesn't already come rolled.. unless it's plastic.
*be careful with the "funny" jokes. my name isn't "Flo", we don't have "big macs and fries", and saying you like your eggs "fertilized" is just plain nasty. also, i left my other arms at home, i CAN carry more plates, i DO have a college education, and if my arms are to full that i can't give you the finger, then i don't have change for a million dollar bill. and for the record, we DO take Hawaiian currency.. i'm a waitress, not an idiot.
*i like kids. i will give them crayons, talk on their level, ask THEM how their food is. I don't like PARENTS that let the kids eat all the jellies, drink the all the creamers, and pour the hot sauce on the ground. before you get all high horse, i know that babies make messes. but, please... for the future of civilization, teach your 8 year old some manners.
*know my name. if i have taken the time to remember your name, and the other 50 of you that come in on a daily basis.. along with where you work, what shows you watch, how the weather affects your bunions, and what you eat......learn my name. there's one of me. and i'm a Jennifer.... it's not much easier.
*I totally understand going to a place and ordering the same thing.(there's a salad that i crave to the point of embarrassing obsession at the pla.... ooops) but this is twofold.. one) if you come in everyday and order the exact same thing, we need to talk about you living a little. there's a big world out there, think outside the box (but don't be making shit up all willy-nilly: see above) and two) if you come in everyday to order oatmeal and toast, i'm sorry that i am either the highlight of your day or you are such a horrid cook that you can't even make oatmeal and toast.
* lets talk honestly about money here.. shall we? (i'll get to my origins as a waitress in another post... you just stay tuned for THAT series) waitressing is good money, if you know what you're doing. it's not because we make giant paychecks.. because $2.65 an hour doesn't make for good paychecks. see that $2.65 an hour. we don't make money because people throw money at us because we are awesome and funny and quippy and smiley and friendly, although they should. we make money on sheer mass of TURNOVERS. the more people we feed the more money we make. it literally COSTS me money to wait on you when you've been sitting for 3 hours drinking $2 coffee. not to mention the fact that all the people giving you the eye while they wait in line for you to finish up your 62 cup. i make good money. i do. i support my family, pay my bills, and am (usually) a productive member of society. i judge my performance on my pay immediately. i don't have the option of a phone to hide behind, or a breakroom to sneak away to. to my tables (at least), i am consistent. it's tough to show up everyday, to smile, to entertain, and to keep orders straight and drink fractions balanced. that extra dollar really does make a HUGE difference in our day.
*and finally... the most important... don't be a dick. don't show up at 2:15 when you KNOW we close at 2:30. you know that look you give clients when they call before close? i can't give you that look... at least til i turn around. don't be shitty, i control your food. don't degrade me, i'm somebody's daughter, wife, sister. and... I'm a Jennifer.
my mood has been affected by work more so lately than ever. i suppose, who's isn't! long story short, there are a few guidelines in dealing with your waitstaff. (DISCLAIMER: all of my dear friends that come in to visit... THIS IS NOT DIRECTED AT YOU. you guys get it exactly right; i know this because i have never wanted to pry any of your faces off with a shovel.) this is more for the general public. that's not true. i just need to get this off my chest.
* don't order half drinks. no half decaf, half caff. this isn't starbucks. also, don't make your own coke zero by having half diet, half regular. it doesn't work that way. if you MUST order something mixed, please don't give me directions on how to mix it ie: 3/8 diet on the bottom, 1/ 16 regular, and layer accordingly. i don't do fractions.
*also, don't put hazelnut creamer in your pop.
keep that dirty little secret at home.
*don't invent your own menu. 1... MAYBE 2 substitutions.. don't be all rachel ray. you've already been labeled high maintenance, and nothing is ever gonna be what you want.
* if you need a napkin... ask for a napkin. don't unroll all the silverware on the table. silverware doesn't already come rolled.. unless it's plastic.
*be careful with the "funny" jokes. my name isn't "Flo", we don't have "big macs and fries", and saying you like your eggs "fertilized" is just plain nasty. also, i left my other arms at home, i CAN carry more plates, i DO have a college education, and if my arms are to full that i can't give you the finger, then i don't have change for a million dollar bill. and for the record, we DO take Hawaiian currency.. i'm a waitress, not an idiot.
*i like kids. i will give them crayons, talk on their level, ask THEM how their food is. I don't like PARENTS that let the kids eat all the jellies, drink the all the creamers, and pour the hot sauce on the ground. before you get all high horse, i know that babies make messes. but, please... for the future of civilization, teach your 8 year old some manners.
*know my name. if i have taken the time to remember your name, and the other 50 of you that come in on a daily basis.. along with where you work, what shows you watch, how the weather affects your bunions, and what you eat......learn my name. there's one of me. and i'm a Jennifer.... it's not much easier.
*I totally understand going to a place and ordering the same thing.(there's a salad that i crave to the point of embarrassing obsession at the pla.... ooops) but this is twofold.. one) if you come in everyday and order the exact same thing, we need to talk about you living a little. there's a big world out there, think outside the box (but don't be making shit up all willy-nilly: see above) and two) if you come in everyday to order oatmeal and toast, i'm sorry that i am either the highlight of your day or you are such a horrid cook that you can't even make oatmeal and toast.
* lets talk honestly about money here.. shall we? (i'll get to my origins as a waitress in another post... you just stay tuned for THAT series) waitressing is good money, if you know what you're doing. it's not because we make giant paychecks.. because $2.65 an hour doesn't make for good paychecks. see that $2.65 an hour. we don't make money because people throw money at us because we are awesome and funny and quippy and smiley and friendly, although they should. we make money on sheer mass of TURNOVERS. the more people we feed the more money we make. it literally COSTS me money to wait on you when you've been sitting for 3 hours drinking $2 coffee. not to mention the fact that all the people giving you the eye while they wait in line for you to finish up your 62 cup. i make good money. i do. i support my family, pay my bills, and am (usually) a productive member of society. i judge my performance on my pay immediately. i don't have the option of a phone to hide behind, or a breakroom to sneak away to. to my tables (at least), i am consistent. it's tough to show up everyday, to smile, to entertain, and to keep orders straight and drink fractions balanced. that extra dollar really does make a HUGE difference in our day.
*and finally... the most important... don't be a dick. don't show up at 2:15 when you KNOW we close at 2:30. you know that look you give clients when they call before close? i can't give you that look... at least til i turn around. don't be shitty, i control your food. don't degrade me, i'm somebody's daughter, wife, sister. and... I'm a Jennifer.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
hey... it's ok to to be appreciated more for your brains than your bra size.
because i do things on my own time (i prefer to think of my self as a trend "setter" not a "follower"..well, usually. sometimes. not really so much) i tend to be a little late getting on the band wagon, if i care to even glance at the band wagon. some band wagons are really worth taking a look, and ride on. My very dear friends, Maryann (of kmzeller.blogspot.com), Nancy (of thenancydiaries.blogspot.com) and Sarah (of alittlewhineandcheese.com) all took the blogging steps before me... and i still have much to learn from these pioneering creative souls. BUT, as per my style... i'm doing it (hence the last one in the pool. eh.. get it? GET IT??) maryann had this great idea (albeit, borrowed from glamour magazine..but a fantastic theft still) and, in the spirit of friendship, i'm taking it to be my own. except on wednesday.
hey... it's ok.....
* to be upset that you lost the Wii in the custody battle, but only because you didn't pay for it in the first place
* to say that american pickers was deleted from the DVR because "A&E won't record things on their channel". except hoarders.
* be really really really excited about the "Big Bang Theory season 3" that just came out on DVD, but only because the other 2 seasons are so lonely on the shelf.
* to block your step kids off your facebook page because you're pretty sure that their mom is reading your posts via them.
* to leave a candle unattended ONCE in a while.
* to think other people my age are getting so old.
* to rather watch Dexter because it makes me think, than to watch Jersey Shore because it makes me want to pull my face off. and also, blood and guts are cool.
* to believe that a bottle of wine seems like a perfectly reasonable thing to have for dinner
* to read the book and have no interest in the movie. however... if is NEVER ok to do the opposite.
* to still hang out with your ex's friends. simply because they are incredibly cool people. and he got the Wii
* to have the NERDIEST netflix queue ever.. and be excited about it. biographies, indies, documentaries... lets talk!
* and on that note... to be appreciated more for your brains than your bra size.
hey... it's ok.....
* to be upset that you lost the Wii in the custody battle, but only because you didn't pay for it in the first place
* to say that american pickers was deleted from the DVR because "A&E won't record things on their channel". except hoarders.
* be really really really excited about the "Big Bang Theory season 3" that just came out on DVD, but only because the other 2 seasons are so lonely on the shelf.
* to block your step kids off your facebook page because you're pretty sure that their mom is reading your posts via them.
* to leave a candle unattended ONCE in a while.
* to think other people my age are getting so old.
* to rather watch Dexter because it makes me think, than to watch Jersey Shore because it makes me want to pull my face off. and also, blood and guts are cool.
* to believe that a bottle of wine seems like a perfectly reasonable thing to have for dinner
* to read the book and have no interest in the movie. however... if is NEVER ok to do the opposite.
* to still hang out with your ex's friends. simply because they are incredibly cool people. and he got the Wii
* to have the NERDIEST netflix queue ever.. and be excited about it. biographies, indies, documentaries... lets talk!
* and on that note... to be appreciated more for your brains than your bra size.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
it's because of Reverend Fox.
some people shop. i don't have the money. some people party. i don't have the tolerance. some people so to therapists. i can't bear the thought of having to PAY someone to listen to me, poor thing. my therapy is painting. picasso be dammed, i paint walls. rooms. trim. doors. it shuts me up and makes martha stewart proud.
the painting is something i do to clear my head, and the paint fumes make things more interesting. i should mention that i do all the painting, taping, clean up ALONE. because it's not fair to yell more at someone else who drips on the floor less than yours truly. usually clearing out the ol' cranium is a ridiculous smattering of thoughts that would confuse an expert on ADD. tonight was different. i was asked a question a few weeks ago... and it's stuck in my head.
"why on EARTH would you marry another christian high student???!!!"
the answer is: Rev. Fox.
that's right. super joe. the rev. the keeper of the fox-box.
if you would have told 17 year old me and my perm that we would be marrying a boy from the same polka-dotted halls.... 17 year old me would have replied with an eye roll and "psshh. as if!" mostly due to the fact that i'm pretty sure that none of the guys from the polka-dotted hall saw me as anything but a girl that laughed too loud and had bad hair. (both are true) high school is... well.... you all know. you've all done it. but, KCHS is a little different. if you didn't go there... feel free to tune out. i totally understand. i'll get back to you guys in another blog.
i'd ask if you remember chapel... and then i'd feel stupid because how could you not? if you were sneaky enough to somehow manage to sneak out of the walk between homeroom and the gym to attend to "more important issues", well, nice work. (and for the record, the rest of us knew that you were at sweetwaters. or smoking up on westerns campus.) chances are still pretty good that you attended at least one. (hopefully the one where we dropped all the pennies because that was pretty amazing) anyway.... the rev. joe would be up there, preaching away, singing heartily... oblivious to the fact that there was a pretty small group paying attention, not passing notes, not changing words to songs, not counting the minutes until the group that didn't successfully escape the herding, could get the donuts after chapel.
christian high is something else. i loved high school and am eternally grateful for the education i recieved there.... i realize that this is not the norm. not everybody felt that way or had a great time. but we all had chapel. we all had 4 years of bible. we all had to sit in bio and smell the formeldehyde of the cats that would be disected. we all took a computer class before the internet was even a thing.
there's only 500 people or so that can relate to that..... KCHS from 1991-1995. there's only about 120 of us that look back at the class of 95 and ask "when did we get so old?".
so there, my friends, is your answer. you marry people that understand things no one else does.
it doesn't have to be from high school.. because lets face it.. it IS a little strange. it's from college, from work, from church, FROM LIFE. people are put in our lives every day... it's up to us to figure out why they are there.
so thank you... ALL of you. you've all fit into my life so perfectly.
oh.... and thanks for loving me in spite of the perms. and tight rolled, tapered leg jeans (you did it too)
the painting is something i do to clear my head, and the paint fumes make things more interesting. i should mention that i do all the painting, taping, clean up ALONE. because it's not fair to yell more at someone else who drips on the floor less than yours truly. usually clearing out the ol' cranium is a ridiculous smattering of thoughts that would confuse an expert on ADD. tonight was different. i was asked a question a few weeks ago... and it's stuck in my head.
"why on EARTH would you marry another christian high student???!!!"
the answer is: Rev. Fox.
that's right. super joe. the rev. the keeper of the fox-box.
if you would have told 17 year old me and my perm that we would be marrying a boy from the same polka-dotted halls.... 17 year old me would have replied with an eye roll and "psshh. as if!" mostly due to the fact that i'm pretty sure that none of the guys from the polka-dotted hall saw me as anything but a girl that laughed too loud and had bad hair. (both are true) high school is... well.... you all know. you've all done it. but, KCHS is a little different. if you didn't go there... feel free to tune out. i totally understand. i'll get back to you guys in another blog.
i'd ask if you remember chapel... and then i'd feel stupid because how could you not? if you were sneaky enough to somehow manage to sneak out of the walk between homeroom and the gym to attend to "more important issues", well, nice work. (and for the record, the rest of us knew that you were at sweetwaters. or smoking up on westerns campus.) chances are still pretty good that you attended at least one. (hopefully the one where we dropped all the pennies because that was pretty amazing) anyway.... the rev. joe would be up there, preaching away, singing heartily... oblivious to the fact that there was a pretty small group paying attention, not passing notes, not changing words to songs, not counting the minutes until the group that didn't successfully escape the herding, could get the donuts after chapel.
christian high is something else. i loved high school and am eternally grateful for the education i recieved there.... i realize that this is not the norm. not everybody felt that way or had a great time. but we all had chapel. we all had 4 years of bible. we all had to sit in bio and smell the formeldehyde of the cats that would be disected. we all took a computer class before the internet was even a thing.
there's only 500 people or so that can relate to that..... KCHS from 1991-1995. there's only about 120 of us that look back at the class of 95 and ask "when did we get so old?".
so there, my friends, is your answer. you marry people that understand things no one else does.
it doesn't have to be from high school.. because lets face it.. it IS a little strange. it's from college, from work, from church, FROM LIFE. people are put in our lives every day... it's up to us to figure out why they are there.
so thank you... ALL of you. you've all fit into my life so perfectly.
oh.... and thanks for loving me in spite of the perms. and tight rolled, tapered leg jeans (you did it too)
Sunday, August 29, 2010
i named my brother "Jeremy" for a reason....
there's a lot in life that we can't choose. we don't have a choice in birth order, we don't have a choice in being male or female ( let's not debate here, people... just follow), we don't have a choice in how others preconceived notions will affect us, and we really can't choose the right way for a person to live their life.
there's plenty in life that we can't do anything about... i have no pull over the air conditioner being broken at work. i have nothing to do with the repaving of the parking lot. and i CERTAINLY have no say in why the temperature is 90 degrees with 87% humidity... or that you're eating in a restaurant with no air, and a torn up parking lot on such a summer day.
HOWEVER... (insert big sigh and various hand motions that i apparently do.. do i? hmm)
there's even more in our lives that we can choose. i'm the oldest child. i CHOOSE not to see my brother as a punching bag any more ( the fact that he's been a roofer and is HUGE, is neither here nor there) i now see him as my brother. and a husband, and an incredible father. i still wish he could be a punching bag. i didn't choose to be a daughter; an oldest and only daughter. but i DO choose to be the level headed one, the go to, the perpetual mediator, the eternal optimist mixed shamelessly with being the realist that i no doubt am. if you want something sugar coated form me, i'll give you a doughnut. i chose to be a wife...(some of us needed a practice run early on... but we got it the second time) for better or for worse, through sickness and in health. i CHOOSE to trust again, to open up, and to grow.... always tested, always strengthening, always loving.
i have chosen to open up to a new group of friends. this was the hardest thing i've had to do. my old friends are amazing, they GET me... no easy task for sure. they've seen the whole show, we have understandings, we have jokes, we have history. and we also have distance.... and spouses, and children, and aging parents....
i've put my faith in a whole new lot. i've joined a bible study, we're going to a marriage convention, i've opened up and been accepted for who i am. good things have come... good things will continue. even through the black pits, and dark valleys, and empty wastelands that are certainly part of CHOOSING to live....there is love. there is family. there are friends. there is God.
Jeremiah 29:11-12
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you."
there's plenty in life that we can't do anything about... i have no pull over the air conditioner being broken at work. i have nothing to do with the repaving of the parking lot. and i CERTAINLY have no say in why the temperature is 90 degrees with 87% humidity... or that you're eating in a restaurant with no air, and a torn up parking lot on such a summer day.
HOWEVER... (insert big sigh and various hand motions that i apparently do.. do i? hmm)
there's even more in our lives that we can choose. i'm the oldest child. i CHOOSE not to see my brother as a punching bag any more ( the fact that he's been a roofer and is HUGE, is neither here nor there) i now see him as my brother. and a husband, and an incredible father. i still wish he could be a punching bag. i didn't choose to be a daughter; an oldest and only daughter. but i DO choose to be the level headed one, the go to, the perpetual mediator, the eternal optimist mixed shamelessly with being the realist that i no doubt am. if you want something sugar coated form me, i'll give you a doughnut. i chose to be a wife...(some of us needed a practice run early on... but we got it the second time) for better or for worse, through sickness and in health. i CHOOSE to trust again, to open up, and to grow.... always tested, always strengthening, always loving.
i have chosen to open up to a new group of friends. this was the hardest thing i've had to do. my old friends are amazing, they GET me... no easy task for sure. they've seen the whole show, we have understandings, we have jokes, we have history. and we also have distance.... and spouses, and children, and aging parents....
i've put my faith in a whole new lot. i've joined a bible study, we're going to a marriage convention, i've opened up and been accepted for who i am. good things have come... good things will continue. even through the black pits, and dark valleys, and empty wastelands that are certainly part of CHOOSING to live....there is love. there is family. there are friends. there is God.
Jeremiah 29:11-12
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you."
Monday, August 23, 2010
Live like everybody loves you. If they don't--their loss. (It helps if you're not a jerk)
i'm gonna wax poetic. mostly because.. well, solely because, it's my blog. i've had an epiphany in the last 24 hours.
See Fight Club:
"Everywhere I travel, tiny life. Single-serving sugar, single-serving cream, single pat of butter. The microwave Cordon Bleu hobby kit. Shampoo-conditioner combos, sample-packaged mouthwash, tiny bars of soap. The people I meet on each flight? They're single-serving friends."
If you don't get the point now, you never will....
Then there are my friends with a Two Week Shelf Life.
It's not that we make buddy buddy, dance our dance and then float separate ways like dandelion seeds in the wind. That would be... pointless.
Each of these friends shares a common point in my life. Each one represents a period of time or a story. Some are comedies, some are dramas, some are horrors, some are action, maybe even a couple of romances in there. Each one is important. Each one shapes you to who you are today. Be it good or be it bad, each one of these friends influenced you at some point in your life be it early developmental, teenage, college, or the life after.
There are so many of these people out there...
how do you keep track of them all? the internet, cell phones, social networking.. blah blah blah....is actually pretty handy for that. I've caught up with friends around the country I've not talked to in ages! You get back in touch with these people that were important at some point in your life and you correspond, usually briefly then go your separate ways once more. It's not because you don't care about that person, but your lives aren't on the same path they once were. That person is still important, but they're just not a priority at the moment.
Prioritizing friends...
isn't that a bitch? It sounds so selfish and conceited, but it's true. Each one of these friendships is a relationship. Actually everything we do in life is based on relationships. Work, Play, Love, the places we shop, the places we hang out, the clothing we buy... all relationships. I guess the question is how many relationships do you have room in your life for? How many of these relationships can you maintain at the same time without putting someone up on the shelf until you either need them again, you happen to run into each other, or it's convenient for both of you??? That's where the two week shelf life comes in. That's how long you last before you're 'tossed aside.'
It's not who's important and who's not.
Not that easy. Look me in the eye and tell me the people in your past aren't important and I'll call you a liar. Lie to yourself all you want, but keep me out of it. It's more about who's important RIGHT NOW, right? You're not looking for Mr./Mrs. Right... you're looking for Mr./Mrs. RIGHT NOW. We want things cheap, fast, and easy. It's the American Way. Relationships are work and nobody likes to work. How much work can one person really accomplish in a day? I can tell you exactly how much. About 24 Hours worth... but you have to remember to sleep, then you should really eat sometime... I mean that Kate Moss / Euro-Heroin Sheik look isn't in right now.... It's finding the time. What is your time worth. WHO is your time worth??? You might appreciate it more when you notice you don't have any.
It's a balancing act.
We can all balance it to some degree, but if you ask me to get up on a tight rope you have something coming to you. I'll give you a hint... it involves kitchen utensils, an Eggplant, and some pain. What happens when your act gets out of balance? We damage those relationships we had in place, we dull them. Sometimes it's work... sometimes it's school... we're too busy doing what we have to do to keep up with what we want to do... we're changing relationships and changing lanes, one in place of another. We're prioritizing, like it or not.
So I must admit, to the friends out there, and on here that I've not forgotten you... or the times we had, the times we will have, and the times we've forgotten that we had. Gotta love pictures for that.
there a handful of you that we hardly ever talk anymore, but you're some of the most important and influential people I've ever known. They're doing their own things at their own pace. Perhaps some of our values, schedules, and priorities have changed. Who knows. We put each other on the shelf until we can take each other down, dust each other off, and pick up where we left off, but we're still very important to one another. I'm that person to someone else I'm sure. I can't knock people I haven't talked to for not talking to me, after all... I only have a two week shelf life.
And that's all I gotta say about that....
and then there's the group that i am privileged to know, able to be in contact with, and have nights that turn into the stories that will be told over and over, with the same laughs, same groans, same eye rolls.. for years to come. that group is growing... rapidly, intensely, and excitingly. crazy that after all this time, you ALL.. old and new friends... are pieces in the puzzle of my life. you all touch each other either directly, or indirectly. i can't explain how much you all mean to me. i love you all.... eye rolling and everything.
See Fight Club:
"Everywhere I travel, tiny life. Single-serving sugar, single-serving cream, single pat of butter. The microwave Cordon Bleu hobby kit. Shampoo-conditioner combos, sample-packaged mouthwash, tiny bars of soap. The people I meet on each flight? They're single-serving friends."
If you don't get the point now, you never will....
Then there are my friends with a Two Week Shelf Life.
It's not that we make buddy buddy, dance our dance and then float separate ways like dandelion seeds in the wind. That would be... pointless.
Each of these friends shares a common point in my life. Each one represents a period of time or a story. Some are comedies, some are dramas, some are horrors, some are action, maybe even a couple of romances in there. Each one is important. Each one shapes you to who you are today. Be it good or be it bad, each one of these friends influenced you at some point in your life be it early developmental, teenage, college, or the life after.
There are so many of these people out there...
how do you keep track of them all? the internet, cell phones, social networking.. blah blah blah....is actually pretty handy for that. I've caught up with friends around the country I've not talked to in ages! You get back in touch with these people that were important at some point in your life and you correspond, usually briefly then go your separate ways once more. It's not because you don't care about that person, but your lives aren't on the same path they once were. That person is still important, but they're just not a priority at the moment.
Prioritizing friends...
isn't that a bitch? It sounds so selfish and conceited, but it's true. Each one of these friendships is a relationship. Actually everything we do in life is based on relationships. Work, Play, Love, the places we shop, the places we hang out, the clothing we buy... all relationships. I guess the question is how many relationships do you have room in your life for? How many of these relationships can you maintain at the same time without putting someone up on the shelf until you either need them again, you happen to run into each other, or it's convenient for both of you??? That's where the two week shelf life comes in. That's how long you last before you're 'tossed aside.'
It's not who's important and who's not.
Not that easy. Look me in the eye and tell me the people in your past aren't important and I'll call you a liar. Lie to yourself all you want, but keep me out of it. It's more about who's important RIGHT NOW, right? You're not looking for Mr./Mrs. Right... you're looking for Mr./Mrs. RIGHT NOW. We want things cheap, fast, and easy. It's the American Way. Relationships are work and nobody likes to work. How much work can one person really accomplish in a day? I can tell you exactly how much. About 24 Hours worth... but you have to remember to sleep, then you should really eat sometime... I mean that Kate Moss / Euro-Heroin Sheik look isn't in right now.... It's finding the time. What is your time worth. WHO is your time worth??? You might appreciate it more when you notice you don't have any.
It's a balancing act.
We can all balance it to some degree, but if you ask me to get up on a tight rope you have something coming to you. I'll give you a hint... it involves kitchen utensils, an Eggplant, and some pain. What happens when your act gets out of balance? We damage those relationships we had in place, we dull them. Sometimes it's work... sometimes it's school... we're too busy doing what we have to do to keep up with what we want to do... we're changing relationships and changing lanes, one in place of another. We're prioritizing, like it or not.
So I must admit, to the friends out there, and on here that I've not forgotten you... or the times we had, the times we will have, and the times we've forgotten that we had. Gotta love pictures for that.
there a handful of you that we hardly ever talk anymore, but you're some of the most important and influential people I've ever known. They're doing their own things at their own pace. Perhaps some of our values, schedules, and priorities have changed. Who knows. We put each other on the shelf until we can take each other down, dust each other off, and pick up where we left off, but we're still very important to one another. I'm that person to someone else I'm sure. I can't knock people I haven't talked to for not talking to me, after all... I only have a two week shelf life.
And that's all I gotta say about that....
and then there's the group that i am privileged to know, able to be in contact with, and have nights that turn into the stories that will be told over and over, with the same laughs, same groans, same eye rolls.. for years to come. that group is growing... rapidly, intensely, and excitingly. crazy that after all this time, you ALL.. old and new friends... are pieces in the puzzle of my life. you all touch each other either directly, or indirectly. i can't explain how much you all mean to me. i love you all.... eye rolling and everything.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
to penis envy... or not to penis envy?
vacation was a low key masterpiece. somehow, in spite of the mullets and pegged jeans, northern Michigan is ah-maze-ing. 4 days felt like a week. it was just what we both needed. boats, wave runners, hammock, quads. and a golf cart. you know, to get from the cabin to the lake...because, let's face it, on vacation i just shouldn't have to walk the 100 yards on the lush grass. i won't bore you with the blissful nothingness that went on, but rest assured i didn't break out this computer, and cell phone signal is scarce. it's alpena... they're still catching up. they have CB's. cory did have an incident with the jet ski and some land. and a tree. too much watching of "nitro circus" played a part in this, I'm certain.
getting back into routine life.. (up north really does take you out of the loop... even for a few days) i was stopped by a post from a dear friend of mine from high school..one of those guys that you should have known better, because he was an "old soul" in his teenage years. one of those guys who i am privileged (honestly)to know now. i thank you for this eye opener and give a half-assed apology for stealing it from you.
pay attention kids.... 1:08.
"You think my life turned out the way I wanted because I live in this house? You think every time I look in the mirror I shout 'Gee I'm glad I'm me and not some 19-year-old billionaire rockstar with the body of an athlete and a 24-hour erection!' No I don't! So just excuse the shit out of me!"
i now steal (er... borrow. with correct bibliography given) the rest of mr. old soul high school..let's call him, uh, "James"... (i promise this is going somewhere)
delicious diatribe. "Am I a soulless shell of a man because I've accepted that most of my hopes and ambitions won't come about and I look forward to a football game, a beer, and a clean home in a safe neighborhood? That's the stability that allows me to directly and indirectly support literally hundreds of people, many of whom who don't have the guts to be responsible for themselves or take on the obligations I have.
I've taken my chances, made my gambles, screwed up royally on more than one occasion, and things haven't turned out as I hoped. I simply haven't got the credit lines to go ba...ck and try it all again. But I don't blame anyone, I'm paying off my debts, and I enjoy what little I've earned without obsessing over what I don't have.
Some people have the luxury of freaking out or weeping over being unfulfilled or misunderstood. So long as they're attractive and can be labeled "sensitive" or "passionate", they get a revolving door free pass at that shit. But when you're the stable, hardworking grown-up providing mental and physical stability, one slip up is an unforgivable crime.
A video post on Facebook with a short tirade is all the freaking out I'm allowed."
mad props and a heartfelt 'well played, sir. well played" in effect to "James". see? old soul then... genius now. i wish i woulda thought of something profound. but that's not really my calling. i'd rather be making fun of the masses for being spoonfed dumb asses with my razor sharp tongue. that's not true. i'd rather make fun of them like THIS... while wearing a smoking jacket, maribu heels, and sipping an 18 year old scotch. but you get me -probably wearing a tigers t-shirt, tore up levis, and drinking jack daniels. trust.
so goes my attention deficit-ed mind. look, i make up words. (read my first disclosure post) the above said tigers t, levis, and jack ISN'T an exaggeration. if you know me AT ALL, you're not shocked. and i appreciate you loving me for that (in spite of ? i digress) . here's the problem. i don't make a very good girl. there are a few exceptions here, but all in all.. i really am a guy inside. this isn't a gender thing, and it's NOT A FREUD thing. i am 100% female... it's pretty obvious. but my logic is mostly male. i'm not *exactly* a tomboy... i get my hair done and eyebrows waxed, i like make up and pedicures, and i have a thing for pink. like my pink adidas, and my pink converse, and my pink vans. do you see where this is going? and i really like purses. but i'd rather be playing softball, and i'd rather be outside and dirty. and i'd really rather be shooting something and reloading ammo. i hate watching football, i'd rather play. i've never golfed, my boobs get in the way. i'd rather talk your ear off about baseball, as opposed to you watching me in the fit of world series meltdown that ive done for the last 13 years. i'd rather drink whiskey than stupid skinny martinis or vodka and cranberry. i'd rather smoke a cigar with my whiskey, than some dumb 120 suckerstick cigarette. i'm slightly jealous of the girly girls. who always look like they just walked out of the salon and got a full body make over. never a hair in their eye, or mascara smeared ala Tammy Faye Baker look that i seemed to have perfected. i don't have the patience, i don't have the time, i won't stop to ask for directions, i'll change my own oil in the garage how dare you for thinking i cant.
it's me. i'm ok with it. it's fun. i laugh a lot. i'm loved for WHO i am. and i guess that's all that matters.
ps. remember earlier when i promised that i was going somewhere? it made sense in my mind. sorry to keep you waiting for the fireworks.
getting back into routine life.. (up north really does take you out of the loop... even for a few days) i was stopped by a post from a dear friend of mine from high school..one of those guys that you should have known better, because he was an "old soul" in his teenage years. one of those guys who i am privileged (honestly)to know now. i thank you for this eye opener and give a half-assed apology for stealing it from you.
pay attention kids.... 1:08.
"You think my life turned out the way I wanted because I live in this house? You think every time I look in the mirror I shout 'Gee I'm glad I'm me and not some 19-year-old billionaire rockstar with the body of an athlete and a 24-hour erection!' No I don't! So just excuse the shit out of me!"
i now steal (er... borrow. with correct bibliography given) the rest of mr. old soul high school..let's call him, uh, "James"... (i promise this is going somewhere)
delicious diatribe. "Am I a soulless shell of a man because I've accepted that most of my hopes and ambitions won't come about and I look forward to a football game, a beer, and a clean home in a safe neighborhood? That's the stability that allows me to directly and indirectly support literally hundreds of people, many of whom who don't have the guts to be responsible for themselves or take on the obligations I have.
I've taken my chances, made my gambles, screwed up royally on more than one occasion, and things haven't turned out as I hoped. I simply haven't got the credit lines to go ba...ck and try it all again. But I don't blame anyone, I'm paying off my debts, and I enjoy what little I've earned without obsessing over what I don't have.
Some people have the luxury of freaking out or weeping over being unfulfilled or misunderstood. So long as they're attractive and can be labeled "sensitive" or "passionate", they get a revolving door free pass at that shit. But when you're the stable, hardworking grown-up providing mental and physical stability, one slip up is an unforgivable crime.
A video post on Facebook with a short tirade is all the freaking out I'm allowed."
mad props and a heartfelt 'well played, sir. well played" in effect to "James". see? old soul then... genius now. i wish i woulda thought of something profound. but that's not really my calling. i'd rather be making fun of the masses for being spoonfed dumb asses with my razor sharp tongue. that's not true. i'd rather make fun of them like THIS... while wearing a smoking jacket, maribu heels, and sipping an 18 year old scotch. but you get me -probably wearing a tigers t-shirt, tore up levis, and drinking jack daniels. trust.
so goes my attention deficit-ed mind. look, i make up words. (read my first disclosure post) the above said tigers t, levis, and jack ISN'T an exaggeration. if you know me AT ALL, you're not shocked. and i appreciate you loving me for that (in spite of ? i digress) . here's the problem. i don't make a very good girl. there are a few exceptions here, but all in all.. i really am a guy inside. this isn't a gender thing, and it's NOT A FREUD thing. i am 100% female... it's pretty obvious. but my logic is mostly male. i'm not *exactly* a tomboy... i get my hair done and eyebrows waxed, i like make up and pedicures, and i have a thing for pink. like my pink adidas, and my pink converse, and my pink vans. do you see where this is going? and i really like purses. but i'd rather be playing softball, and i'd rather be outside and dirty. and i'd really rather be shooting something and reloading ammo. i hate watching football, i'd rather play. i've never golfed, my boobs get in the way. i'd rather talk your ear off about baseball, as opposed to you watching me in the fit of world series meltdown that ive done for the last 13 years. i'd rather drink whiskey than stupid skinny martinis or vodka and cranberry. i'd rather smoke a cigar with my whiskey, than some dumb 120 suckerstick cigarette. i'm slightly jealous of the girly girls. who always look like they just walked out of the salon and got a full body make over. never a hair in their eye, or mascara smeared ala Tammy Faye Baker look that i seemed to have perfected. i don't have the patience, i don't have the time, i won't stop to ask for directions, i'll change my own oil in the garage how dare you for thinking i cant.
it's me. i'm ok with it. it's fun. i laugh a lot. i'm loved for WHO i am. and i guess that's all that matters.
ps. remember earlier when i promised that i was going somewhere? it made sense in my mind. sorry to keep you waiting for the fireworks.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
what's in the box?
Remember in the movie "Se7en" when a divine, angsty, pre-angelina haggard brad pitt begged for morgan freeman to tell him "what's in the box???!!! WHAT'S IN THE BOX???" only to be confronted with (i'd give you a spoiler warning, but really... it's been 13 years) his wife's head. i should have learned to not question why there has been a rather large box in the garage for the last week.
I asked what it was on monday and was told it was a surprise. that he was "just waiting to figure out what to do with it". wrong answer. but, being the trustworthy wife that i am... i didn't open the box. not even a shake. until tonight.
my question was met with "It's a dog casket". we don't have a dog. "it was $20 on ebay" we don't have a dog. "I was trying to be thoughtful" we don't have a dog.
I'm outta words. that's a big deal. I appreciate his attempt... and it IS funny. but i have NO clue what to do with it ( i mean, i know what to do with it but i can't just leave it in the living room.)
I can't put it back on ebay, because... come on, who would buy a dog casket?
I asked what it was on monday and was told it was a surprise. that he was "just waiting to figure out what to do with it". wrong answer. but, being the trustworthy wife that i am... i didn't open the box. not even a shake. until tonight.
my question was met with "It's a dog casket". we don't have a dog. "it was $20 on ebay" we don't have a dog. "I was trying to be thoughtful" we don't have a dog.
I'm outta words. that's a big deal. I appreciate his attempt... and it IS funny. but i have NO clue what to do with it ( i mean, i know what to do with it but i can't just leave it in the living room.)
I can't put it back on ebay, because... come on, who would buy a dog casket?
And in my spare time...
The last week has been brutal. too much work, not enough (if any) air conditioning, and not enough time. because, lets face it, there's *always* enough time. however, during the chaos, i've probably done more serious thinking. serious ending that ended up at a toga party. if that's the end to a week when you've worried about everything and everyone, i've got my sheets ready for next week.
there seems to be some correlation between the temp hitting an unbearable 9o degrees and the birth of babies. 4 of my friends birthed out the little bundles of screaming joy on the same day. Nice work, ladies... i probably would have taken drastic measures, too, just to be in a place with air conditioning.
i've done too much thinking about friendships. i can mostly say this is because one of my dearest friends is moving to utah in the next couple weeks. i'm not going to front and be all tough about her going... because i can't be. Nancy means the world to me... she's one of those (few) people who is incredibly real, changes your life, and is going to RUIN the mormon view of a WASP. these are only a few reasons why she rocks. utah is lucky to have her, i'm incredibly lucky to have had years with her.
let's be honest here. i have plenty of acquaintances, and most of them i would really like to spend more time with and pick their brains.
But as for friendships that have weathered the storms, had the knock- down-drag-outs, the stories that never get old when told, the laughs, the tears, the security... well, i have a smattering of those. those are the ones that bring laughter into life, that make the chaos disappear, and those that surround you when you need them. I was with a very good group last night. Some i know well, some i'm in the process of knowing better. i adore them all... only a few people understand how to quote movies at the right time, how to properly make fun of leopard print togas, and how to take being collectively called "a group of the coolest assholes" by a total stranger. thank you all for a truly memorable night.
i'm getting too serious. i've also been on a crappy movie kick. i'm glad you can't see my netflix queue to judge me more that you already do.... but one helpful hint... stay far far far away from "My Bloody Valentine". wow.
ps....
i suppose watching "Last Tango in Paris" was a little to much for the man of the house... he couldn't get past the subtitles to appreciate th... well, just see the movie . (If you haven't seen this.. you need to. AFTER the kids have gone to bed. you should probably lock them in, to avoid any "talk" that you're not ready for. EVER)
there seems to be some correlation between the temp hitting an unbearable 9o degrees and the birth of babies. 4 of my friends birthed out the little bundles of screaming joy on the same day. Nice work, ladies... i probably would have taken drastic measures, too, just to be in a place with air conditioning.
i've done too much thinking about friendships. i can mostly say this is because one of my dearest friends is moving to utah in the next couple weeks. i'm not going to front and be all tough about her going... because i can't be. Nancy means the world to me... she's one of those (few) people who is incredibly real, changes your life, and is going to RUIN the mormon view of a WASP. these are only a few reasons why she rocks. utah is lucky to have her, i'm incredibly lucky to have had years with her.
let's be honest here. i have plenty of acquaintances, and most of them i would really like to spend more time with and pick their brains.
But as for friendships that have weathered the storms, had the knock- down-drag-outs, the stories that never get old when told, the laughs, the tears, the security... well, i have a smattering of those. those are the ones that bring laughter into life, that make the chaos disappear, and those that surround you when you need them. I was with a very good group last night. Some i know well, some i'm in the process of knowing better. i adore them all... only a few people understand how to quote movies at the right time, how to properly make fun of leopard print togas, and how to take being collectively called "a group of the coolest assholes" by a total stranger. thank you all for a truly memorable night.
i'm getting too serious. i've also been on a crappy movie kick. i'm glad you can't see my netflix queue to judge me more that you already do.... but one helpful hint... stay far far far away from "My Bloody Valentine". wow.
ps....
i suppose watching "Last Tango in Paris" was a little to much for the man of the house... he couldn't get past the subtitles to appreciate th... well, just see the movie . (If you haven't seen this.. you need to. AFTER the kids have gone to bed. you should probably lock them in, to avoid any "talk" that you're not ready for. EVER)
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