Mama's Moving
That is actually the title of a country
song my mom wrote. Yes, she used to write country songs, but more recently crossed over into rap music. Writing AND performing. I know it sounds crazy. And she is a little. But in the best possible way.
Last night I went into my mother's dressing room. Just to feel closer to her. I touched all her jewelry, her creams, her hairbrush. I smelled her clothes and buried my face in them. I went through everything in her nightstand looking for the letter I was sure she had written for me, telling me everything I need to know in life. Or a journal entry or grocery list. Anything showing me signs of her before she got sick. I read through packing lists and to-do lists and then I curled up in a ball on the floor of her closet and cried.
I feel like I am wading through a dream. A nightmare that I'm sure I'll wake up from. I look at this person lying in the hospital bed and think "who is this woman? That's not my mom." But it is her. It's just a her I've never met before. A dying her.
After crawling into bed last night, I read and re-read the 3 birthday cards she gave me last month. It's hard to believe that only a month ago we were out celebrating my birthday with champagne and charcuterie. I then began reading through emails she's sent me. Hearing her voice reading along with me and realizing this is what I have left. I've also been saving the majority of her voicemails for months now, knowing I'll listen to them over and over again. I stood in her shower and smelled her soap. I stole her hand lotion.
She has been unconscious for days, and every day I crawl into her hospital bed and hold her and cry into her neck. Tonight I touched my face with her hand and ran it through my hair and kissed her fingers. I wrapped her arms around me and hoped she knew she was hugging me. I wiped her one "good" eye with a warm washcloth and opened it with my fingers trying to make her look at me.
She was, she is, sensational. I've never met anyone like her. She has so many friends and people who love her because she is just so damn special and makes everyone she meets feel just as wonderfully special. People gravitate to her and her giant personality. She loves people and tries to get the life stories of everyone she meets. She has a calming way about her that soothes people and makes them feel at ease. Sometimes she embarrasses me with her lack of filter and inhibition, and now I feel guilty for ever feeling that way. Now, I'd give anything for an inappropriate comment in front of strangers courtesy of Alynne. I wish I was more like her. I wish I loved people as much as she does and gave more of a shit about their lives. I wish I had that magnetic effect she has on people. I feel like I could be so much better. So much more like her.
How am I going to survive without this woman? How? Who am I going to call for the absolute best advice on the planet? Who is going to buy me random, strange, discount designer clothes and leave them on my bed for when I come home? Who is going to buy me the ugly yet ridiculously comfortable panties, who am I kidding these are not "panties" but "undergarments", meant to replace my old ones that I'm supposed to throw away but don't? Who is going to remind me never to hold on to said old, torn or stained panties (a Capital offense)? Well, I guess she will. I really feel she will always be with me. I hope I will never stop hearing her voice in my head. And there's always the Long Island Medium :)
Now she's actually gone and I'm pretending she's not. I'm constantly having conversations with her and feel as though she's simply on vacation. My fear is that as of today I will no longer be able to sustain this fantasy.
The night my mother died, I asked everyone to leave the room so I could talk to her in private. I sat on her bed and touched her face and told her that even though I didn't want her to leave me, it was ok for her to let go. I had been reading these pamphlets from the hospice saying that it's important to let your loved one know its ok for them to pass on.That you shouldn't guilt them into staying alive, and many hang on because they are worried about the people they are leaving behind. So I decided to let her know it was ok. I told her how much I loved her and would miss her and what a great mom she was and about all the people who were waiting for her on the other side. And then I kissed her, said goodbye and left the room.
Not a minute later my brother came out to tell me she was gone. I will never know if she heard me that night (as I said she hadn't woken up in days) but I like to think I gave her the comfort she needed to pass on. My parting gift to my hero, my angel, my mom.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Ello Gov'ner!
Well, I just got back from visiting my brother and sister-in-law in London. It was a last minute trip, and I only had 3 days off so it was short, but it was worth it. I had so much fun!
After a very comfortable flight in business class, I landed around 11am and was at my brother's apartment by 1. When I got there, my brother, N, yelled "Who is it??" through the door and made me wait like 5 min before he answered, so I thought he was having a surprise party for me. But, no, he opened the door in his boxers, and was clearly fresh out of the shower. Which was something I desperately needed, so I took one. N yelled at me for singing in the shower, I yelled at him for trying to wear pleated pants in my presence and then my sis-in-law got back from the gym and my sweet brother DID surprise me by having one of my bffs and former roomie from Japan, Amber, show up. She is like a soul sister to me. An amazing, unique Australian person. And maybe a little bit crazy since she used to let me cut her hair. Until one night we got drunk and I cut it and, well, that was the end of that.
The 3 of us went to the Kingston and Upton markets, checked out all the cool clothes and food stalls, collectively ate Ethiopian, Bulgarian, Greek, Turkish and Indian food, then waited out the rain with whoopie pies they made me eat (no one respects a diet anymore) Before heading out to meet my friend Gligor for drinks.
I met Gligor about 6 years ago in Thailand. I was staying in a thatched bungalow on the beach on the island of Koh Chang and had bought a hammock and strung it up on my porch. I was laying in it, staring at the ocean, listening to music and feeling a little sad because my friend, Jeff, who I'd gone there to meet, had left that day. All the sudden this blonde guy in the hut next door leans over and starts talking to me from his porch. I had my headphones in so I took them out and said "What?" and he asked me if I was traveling alone. I said, "Well, I came here to meet my friend and we met all these people staying down the beach so I've been hanging out with them and..." He interrupted me and was like "No, I mean are you here with your boyfriend or anything?"
"Oh! No." I replied. He perked up and said, "Ok cool because there's a party at this other beach tonight and a bunch of people I met are going, so you can come too if you want."
We started talking and he asked if he could come join me on my porch and we talked for what seemed like hours. This blonde Swede was Carl, who later on would become my fiancé (briefly).
At some point during this conversation, this tan, skinny dude in purple fisherman pants comes over and asks to borrow the broom sitting on my porch. When he came back, he joined us and the 3 of us were best buds from that point on. That skinny neat freak was Gligor of Macedonia. We were all on long backpacking trips and spent Christmas and New Years together, after which Gligor left us in Bangkok and I didn't see him again until about 2 1/2 yrs ago, the last time i was in London. So, back to London....
We were all meeting at this cozy, yet crowded underground pub that used to be where the hotel next door stored their coal. Hence the bar's name "the Coal Hole". We had some pints and some laughs and then sadly, my brother, sister-in-law and I had to leave my friends to go to this concert. Aye yai yai.
When I was trying to decide whether or not to make this short trip over to the UK, N and J were like "c'mon we have concert tickets for Sunday! It'll be so much fun!" Then J sends me the link to the show and it's this 72 year-old minx lounging on a chaise and it says she's a folk singer or something and I was like "WTF is this??" Her name is Judy Collins and woah Nellie! that was a show to remember.
We got to the theatre and were greeted by a sea of white and shiny heads. We went straight to the bar. Oh I forgot to mention my brother's friend was there too. He looks like the Indian version of Jeremy Piven. And when I told him he was the Ari Gold of Bombay/Tampa he was delighted because apparently that's his hero.
So the four of us order some drinks, wait for the opening act to finish a song and then squeeze past a bunch of people to get to our seats in the very center of the third row. Those people were not happy. Especially because J elbowed one of then in the head on the way. During intermission N and his pal got up to use the men's room and get us more drinks (thanks Ari!). J and I made the mistake of not using the restroom during this opportune time, because once Judy came on, we were locked in for life! So she comes on and starts singing and I swear to God I got goosebumps. I loved it. She was singing these beautiful irish folk songs that made me want to cry. And did you know she's the subject of Crosby, Stills and Nash's "Sweet Judy Blue Eyes"?? Cuz she is! Her and Stills had a love affair and it was ending at the time he wrote it. Love that song.
So it started out great. Then I realized I really had to pee. No, really, really. And panic started to set in because I was stuck in the middle of all these people who already hate us and were huffing and puffing for even being disturbed during the opener. There was no space between these seats, folks. You have to stand up to let anyone by. I held it as long as I could then had to make a break for it. When I came back, I didn't want to go through that again, so I sat in an empty seat off to the side to wait out the rest of the show. At this point I was ready to go. All the songs were starting to sound the same and the stuff from her new album wasn't doing it for me and some mentally disturbed man in the row in front of me was royally (that's for you England) pissing me off. He kept yelling and they escorted him out, then brought him back in for some reason. Then he moved and sat right in front of me and right next to this poor guy who he started harassing and the staff kept coming over to scold him but were not removing him for God knows why not. Then I watched him grab the guys head and kiss him! That was it for me. I marched over to one of the attendants who was standing just a few feet behind me and had obviously seen what I had, and I was like " Um, he's totally harassing that guy and I just saw him kiss him!" Like what are you gonna do about it? And he just tells me that it's a difficult situation and that he has Alzheimer's. Alzheimer's? More like Terets. I'm thinking you're letting this asshole stay here and ruin the show for everyone around him because it's too uncomfortable or disruptive to remove him? I don't know but their weak passiveness made me mad and he continued to be an idiot the rest of the show. N and Ari finally went for it and made a dash to the toilet, bladders bursting, and came and sat with me after. J was so polite she held it like a pro until it was all over. And somehow through all this N managed to get a signed copy of Judy's CD and a picture with the opening act.
Then we went out for bad, overpriced Chinese food and they couldn't wait to get rid of us. Then the other 3 made me to go to McDonald's in the rain and walk 20 min for a goddam Cadbury egg Mcflurry. No, I didn't eat one. But I had a bite, it was ok. When we finally made it almost home and were dropping N's friend off, he invited us up for some mini bottles of liqueur. My eyes were saying no, but my mouth couldn't not be that rude and my brother accepted the invite, so we went. I may sound like an ungrateful bitch at this point in the story. It really was a great night! I was just tired from traveling and had to go to the bathroom and was just ready to lay down and call it a night. I'm pretty sure that guy thinks I'm terrible though.
The next day, N had to work and J and I met him during his lunch break to help him pick out a wedding jacket for Bali. Then she and I walked around Harrods (which was gorgeous!) and met Amber for some TopShop shopping, where I was eyeing a pair if really cute shorts when Amber informed me we were too old for short shorts! I don't think so. Because we all know I love my short shorts, short skirts, whatever. Plus I have long legs, so lots of things are short on me by accident. I just don't feel like 30-ish is too old and I will keep wearing whatever the fuck I want until I'm good and ready. Or get varicose veins. And then I still may not stop! As she was saying this, she was trying on a t-shirt with a dinosaur on it. I pulled the plug on that, because if I'm too old for booty shorts, you're too old for dinosaur t-shirts.
After that mess (love u Ambs:), we went to meet N and Gligor at this music hall Amber had been dying to go to. It was called Wilton's and it's the oldest music hall in the world and it has a bar called the Mahogany Bar. This place was awesome. Super old, lots of character and interesting history. Heavenly. Not to mention delicious English ale! They don't serve food but will let you order in whatever you want and eat it there, so we had some Pilipino food delivered from down the road and devoured it.
The next day, I had to leave. I woke up early to have breakfast with my bro before work then went back to bed and hung out with J before leaving for the airport. The trip was short but so much fun and so easy to get there and back (riding in business class doesn't hurt either). The only thing is the airport taxes out of LHR are crazy high. So it's not cheap to fly there direct out of Chicago on United, however it is pretty cheap to go on Delta and connect somewhere. I'll have to figure something out because I want to do this often.
I know this blog is super long but there's one more thing. My "friend" from my "Friendly Date" blog, the one who's in the band? Well, his band is touring with Tom Petty in Europe this summer and he's invited me to go to any of the concerts I want over there. I've told all my friends and people are interested in coming along (including my parents haha) and I've confirmed with him that I am, in fact, going. But now I'm starting to feel weird. Because he texts me all the time and I know he likes me because he's pretty open about it, but I don't like him like that. I don't know what his expectations are, and don't want to be an asshole basically. But I really, really want to go because how awesome would it be to go to Italy and France and go backstage at a Tom Petty concert!? Pretty fricking awesome I think. But it would also not be awesome to be in an awkward situation with this guy. I mean, the thing is, in my entire life, I've hung out with this kid exactly once. 5 months ago. And he's always trying to get me to go visit him in LA and I always say I can't and I feel like I'm always trying to give him hints that I'm not interested, but he doesn't give up. So I don't know. I know one of you (and I think I know who you are) told me not to go the last time he was in Europe because it's leading him on, and I scoffed. But now I kinda see your point. Thoughts?
After a very comfortable flight in business class, I landed around 11am and was at my brother's apartment by 1. When I got there, my brother, N, yelled "Who is it??" through the door and made me wait like 5 min before he answered, so I thought he was having a surprise party for me. But, no, he opened the door in his boxers, and was clearly fresh out of the shower. Which was something I desperately needed, so I took one. N yelled at me for singing in the shower, I yelled at him for trying to wear pleated pants in my presence and then my sis-in-law got back from the gym and my sweet brother DID surprise me by having one of my bffs and former roomie from Japan, Amber, show up. She is like a soul sister to me. An amazing, unique Australian person. And maybe a little bit crazy since she used to let me cut her hair. Until one night we got drunk and I cut it and, well, that was the end of that.
The 3 of us went to the Kingston and Upton markets, checked out all the cool clothes and food stalls, collectively ate Ethiopian, Bulgarian, Greek, Turkish and Indian food, then waited out the rain with whoopie pies they made me eat (no one respects a diet anymore) Before heading out to meet my friend Gligor for drinks.
I met Gligor about 6 years ago in Thailand. I was staying in a thatched bungalow on the beach on the island of Koh Chang and had bought a hammock and strung it up on my porch. I was laying in it, staring at the ocean, listening to music and feeling a little sad because my friend, Jeff, who I'd gone there to meet, had left that day. All the sudden this blonde guy in the hut next door leans over and starts talking to me from his porch. I had my headphones in so I took them out and said "What?" and he asked me if I was traveling alone. I said, "Well, I came here to meet my friend and we met all these people staying down the beach so I've been hanging out with them and..." He interrupted me and was like "No, I mean are you here with your boyfriend or anything?"
"Oh! No." I replied. He perked up and said, "Ok cool because there's a party at this other beach tonight and a bunch of people I met are going, so you can come too if you want."
We started talking and he asked if he could come join me on my porch and we talked for what seemed like hours. This blonde Swede was Carl, who later on would become my fiancé (briefly).
At some point during this conversation, this tan, skinny dude in purple fisherman pants comes over and asks to borrow the broom sitting on my porch. When he came back, he joined us and the 3 of us were best buds from that point on. That skinny neat freak was Gligor of Macedonia. We were all on long backpacking trips and spent Christmas and New Years together, after which Gligor left us in Bangkok and I didn't see him again until about 2 1/2 yrs ago, the last time i was in London. So, back to London....
We were all meeting at this cozy, yet crowded underground pub that used to be where the hotel next door stored their coal. Hence the bar's name "the Coal Hole". We had some pints and some laughs and then sadly, my brother, sister-in-law and I had to leave my friends to go to this concert. Aye yai yai.
When I was trying to decide whether or not to make this short trip over to the UK, N and J were like "c'mon we have concert tickets for Sunday! It'll be so much fun!" Then J sends me the link to the show and it's this 72 year-old minx lounging on a chaise and it says she's a folk singer or something and I was like "WTF is this??" Her name is Judy Collins and woah Nellie! that was a show to remember.
We got to the theatre and were greeted by a sea of white and shiny heads. We went straight to the bar. Oh I forgot to mention my brother's friend was there too. He looks like the Indian version of Jeremy Piven. And when I told him he was the Ari Gold of Bombay/Tampa he was delighted because apparently that's his hero.
So the four of us order some drinks, wait for the opening act to finish a song and then squeeze past a bunch of people to get to our seats in the very center of the third row. Those people were not happy. Especially because J elbowed one of then in the head on the way. During intermission N and his pal got up to use the men's room and get us more drinks (thanks Ari!). J and I made the mistake of not using the restroom during this opportune time, because once Judy came on, we were locked in for life! So she comes on and starts singing and I swear to God I got goosebumps. I loved it. She was singing these beautiful irish folk songs that made me want to cry. And did you know she's the subject of Crosby, Stills and Nash's "Sweet Judy Blue Eyes"?? Cuz she is! Her and Stills had a love affair and it was ending at the time he wrote it. Love that song.
So it started out great. Then I realized I really had to pee. No, really, really. And panic started to set in because I was stuck in the middle of all these people who already hate us and were huffing and puffing for even being disturbed during the opener. There was no space between these seats, folks. You have to stand up to let anyone by. I held it as long as I could then had to make a break for it. When I came back, I didn't want to go through that again, so I sat in an empty seat off to the side to wait out the rest of the show. At this point I was ready to go. All the songs were starting to sound the same and the stuff from her new album wasn't doing it for me and some mentally disturbed man in the row in front of me was royally (that's for you England) pissing me off. He kept yelling and they escorted him out, then brought him back in for some reason. Then he moved and sat right in front of me and right next to this poor guy who he started harassing and the staff kept coming over to scold him but were not removing him for God knows why not. Then I watched him grab the guys head and kiss him! That was it for me. I marched over to one of the attendants who was standing just a few feet behind me and had obviously seen what I had, and I was like " Um, he's totally harassing that guy and I just saw him kiss him!" Like what are you gonna do about it? And he just tells me that it's a difficult situation and that he has Alzheimer's. Alzheimer's? More like Terets. I'm thinking you're letting this asshole stay here and ruin the show for everyone around him because it's too uncomfortable or disruptive to remove him? I don't know but their weak passiveness made me mad and he continued to be an idiot the rest of the show. N and Ari finally went for it and made a dash to the toilet, bladders bursting, and came and sat with me after. J was so polite she held it like a pro until it was all over. And somehow through all this N managed to get a signed copy of Judy's CD and a picture with the opening act.
Then we went out for bad, overpriced Chinese food and they couldn't wait to get rid of us. Then the other 3 made me to go to McDonald's in the rain and walk 20 min for a goddam Cadbury egg Mcflurry. No, I didn't eat one. But I had a bite, it was ok. When we finally made it almost home and were dropping N's friend off, he invited us up for some mini bottles of liqueur. My eyes were saying no, but my mouth couldn't not be that rude and my brother accepted the invite, so we went. I may sound like an ungrateful bitch at this point in the story. It really was a great night! I was just tired from traveling and had to go to the bathroom and was just ready to lay down and call it a night. I'm pretty sure that guy thinks I'm terrible though.
The next day, N had to work and J and I met him during his lunch break to help him pick out a wedding jacket for Bali. Then she and I walked around Harrods (which was gorgeous!) and met Amber for some TopShop shopping, where I was eyeing a pair if really cute shorts when Amber informed me we were too old for short shorts! I don't think so. Because we all know I love my short shorts, short skirts, whatever. Plus I have long legs, so lots of things are short on me by accident. I just don't feel like 30-ish is too old and I will keep wearing whatever the fuck I want until I'm good and ready. Or get varicose veins. And then I still may not stop! As she was saying this, she was trying on a t-shirt with a dinosaur on it. I pulled the plug on that, because if I'm too old for booty shorts, you're too old for dinosaur t-shirts.
After that mess (love u Ambs:), we went to meet N and Gligor at this music hall Amber had been dying to go to. It was called Wilton's and it's the oldest music hall in the world and it has a bar called the Mahogany Bar. This place was awesome. Super old, lots of character and interesting history. Heavenly. Not to mention delicious English ale! They don't serve food but will let you order in whatever you want and eat it there, so we had some Pilipino food delivered from down the road and devoured it.
The next day, I had to leave. I woke up early to have breakfast with my bro before work then went back to bed and hung out with J before leaving for the airport. The trip was short but so much fun and so easy to get there and back (riding in business class doesn't hurt either). The only thing is the airport taxes out of LHR are crazy high. So it's not cheap to fly there direct out of Chicago on United, however it is pretty cheap to go on Delta and connect somewhere. I'll have to figure something out because I want to do this often.
I know this blog is super long but there's one more thing. My "friend" from my "Friendly Date" blog, the one who's in the band? Well, his band is touring with Tom Petty in Europe this summer and he's invited me to go to any of the concerts I want over there. I've told all my friends and people are interested in coming along (including my parents haha) and I've confirmed with him that I am, in fact, going. But now I'm starting to feel weird. Because he texts me all the time and I know he likes me because he's pretty open about it, but I don't like him like that. I don't know what his expectations are, and don't want to be an asshole basically. But I really, really want to go because how awesome would it be to go to Italy and France and go backstage at a Tom Petty concert!? Pretty fricking awesome I think. But it would also not be awesome to be in an awkward situation with this guy. I mean, the thing is, in my entire life, I've hung out with this kid exactly once. 5 months ago. And he's always trying to get me to go visit him in LA and I always say I can't and I feel like I'm always trying to give him hints that I'm not interested, but he doesn't give up. So I don't know. I know one of you (and I think I know who you are) told me not to go the last time he was in Europe because it's leading him on, and I scoffed. But now I kinda see your point. Thoughts?
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Forget that crap, there are way more fun things to write about!
I decided to delete my last 2 posts just because I am so over that stuff and don't even want to give it the justice of existing. Plus I'm embarrassed. So it never happened people!
My roomate, Jacqui, was reading my blogs the other day, and goes "This is just like when we used to read your diaries!" From when I was 15, up until about 4 years ago, I kept a journal. I have at least 10. And so when I went to college, I brought them with me. Lord knows I did not want my parents or my brother finding that jackpot of incriminating evidence. Well, Jacqui really got a kick out of them.
Freshman year, we lived on the same hall and she would come knock on my door at night and say "Can we read diary?" And we'd lay on my bed and she would read them aloud and gasp and ooh and aah and say "Jes!" And I would gaze up at the ceiling, twirl my hair, and smugly elaborate on my misadventures and exploits.
My mom is probably hating this right now, but I wasn't a bad kid. I just craved excitement and always wanted to see how far I could go out of bounds if that makes sense. Which means I did some dumb shit. But have some great stories. Look! Here's one now!
So I have a friend in Chicago I haven't seen in awhile and am meeting for drinks Monday. Let's call him "Nate". We have a little history, nothing major, just little.
In college, our sophomore year, Nate lived at what we called "The Trampoline House" because, well, they had a big-ass trampoline in the front yard. Within the trampoline house lived a lot of boys, snowboarders, including my friend "J.C." from high school. We loved these boys. Why? Because they were so bad for us. Now, today, I would see these guys and call them "little shits" but then? They were the shit. They jumped off the third story of their house onto that trampoline then would bounce into the street. They'd be on that thing doing snowboarding tricks all day long. They held the "12th St. Olympics" with some other boy houses where they would do things like race each other down the hill on the nasty flea market sofas we used to have on our porches. And one of my bffs and roomies ( I never had fewer than 3), "Lana", and I each had a crush on one. She liked Nate and I liked "Cal".
While Cal and I made out one night, Lana and Nate did lots of nights, for a long time. They had a thing. But Nate had a girlfriend, and Lana was just dying for them to break up. Eventually they did, but Nate didn't want another one and Lana had plenty of other boys after her. Although, I don't remember exactly why things ended between them. Which brings us to our history.
Back in college, Nate was definitely cute. He was tall, had a charming gap between his 2 front teeth, blue eyes and a goofy smile. Rumor also had it that he had a giant horse's dick, but we won't get into that. He was alot of fun to hang out with, although not the sharpest tool in the shed. One of our fave stories about him is he was at our house and we were all gonna go up to the reservoir or something, and he walks outside, looks due east and says "We can't go to the res today, you can't even see the mountains." we were like "uhh, Nate, the mountains are over there." Like huge, and literally just to the right.
Anyway, it all started one night, way after he and Lana were done, when I went out to the bars with my glasses on and my hair in a bun. Nate got on this whole naughty school teacher thing and started calling me Miss. S__. Now, I love being in character so I ate that shit up. Pretty soon we were knee deep in classroom innuendos. I was keeping him late after class, holding him in detention. You get the idea. It went on like this all night. Yes, I know, I'm a fucking cheeseball. Deal with it. But that's how I do. Halloween? Forget about it. I'm a cop? You're ass is gettin arrested. Wonder Woman? Prepare to be lassoed. A reporter/P.I. from the 70's in a trench coat? You will be interviewed and you will like it. All real costumes by the way. And so, I was Miss S. all night long and that is how my small fling with Nate began. It had to end because Lana was not liking it even a little bit. In fact, I remember one day hiding out at our friend Camie's house all day, afraid to go home and face Lana. Camie was hooking up with Nates roomate, "Tall Saul" and we had done the a.m. walk of shame together. It was not a cool thing for me to do.
So now, in our post-college adult years, Nate and I are just friends. He is no longer the adorable, tall, snowboarding bad-ass (well he's still tall) and I am no longer a cheeky fake teacher. But we are meeting for drinks on Monday and I will be sure to leave my glasses at home.
So I guess this is my new "Diary". However, I like writing better than typing, so I had written this all out in my jumpseat on the plane between beverage services and call button dings. If this sticks, you'll be reading a lot more blogs!
College friends, what were the names of some of our other friends houses? There were the "Chicago Boys", "12th and College?" anyway I hope you enjoyed the name changes haha!
Its 8:30pm and I'm going to bed in flint, mi. after spending the day here for work. Barely slept last night and have to wake up super early tomorrow. So goodnight folks and Happy Easter!
My roomate, Jacqui, was reading my blogs the other day, and goes "This is just like when we used to read your diaries!" From when I was 15, up until about 4 years ago, I kept a journal. I have at least 10. And so when I went to college, I brought them with me. Lord knows I did not want my parents or my brother finding that jackpot of incriminating evidence. Well, Jacqui really got a kick out of them.
Freshman year, we lived on the same hall and she would come knock on my door at night and say "Can we read diary?" And we'd lay on my bed and she would read them aloud and gasp and ooh and aah and say "Jes!" And I would gaze up at the ceiling, twirl my hair, and smugly elaborate on my misadventures and exploits.
My mom is probably hating this right now, but I wasn't a bad kid. I just craved excitement and always wanted to see how far I could go out of bounds if that makes sense. Which means I did some dumb shit. But have some great stories. Look! Here's one now!
So I have a friend in Chicago I haven't seen in awhile and am meeting for drinks Monday. Let's call him "Nate". We have a little history, nothing major, just little.
In college, our sophomore year, Nate lived at what we called "The Trampoline House" because, well, they had a big-ass trampoline in the front yard. Within the trampoline house lived a lot of boys, snowboarders, including my friend "J.C." from high school. We loved these boys. Why? Because they were so bad for us. Now, today, I would see these guys and call them "little shits" but then? They were the shit. They jumped off the third story of their house onto that trampoline then would bounce into the street. They'd be on that thing doing snowboarding tricks all day long. They held the "12th St. Olympics" with some other boy houses where they would do things like race each other down the hill on the nasty flea market sofas we used to have on our porches. And one of my bffs and roomies ( I never had fewer than 3), "Lana", and I each had a crush on one. She liked Nate and I liked "Cal".
While Cal and I made out one night, Lana and Nate did lots of nights, for a long time. They had a thing. But Nate had a girlfriend, and Lana was just dying for them to break up. Eventually they did, but Nate didn't want another one and Lana had plenty of other boys after her. Although, I don't remember exactly why things ended between them. Which brings us to our history.
Back in college, Nate was definitely cute. He was tall, had a charming gap between his 2 front teeth, blue eyes and a goofy smile. Rumor also had it that he had a giant horse's dick, but we won't get into that. He was alot of fun to hang out with, although not the sharpest tool in the shed. One of our fave stories about him is he was at our house and we were all gonna go up to the reservoir or something, and he walks outside, looks due east and says "We can't go to the res today, you can't even see the mountains." we were like "uhh, Nate, the mountains are over there." Like huge, and literally just to the right.
Anyway, it all started one night, way after he and Lana were done, when I went out to the bars with my glasses on and my hair in a bun. Nate got on this whole naughty school teacher thing and started calling me Miss. S__. Now, I love being in character so I ate that shit up. Pretty soon we were knee deep in classroom innuendos. I was keeping him late after class, holding him in detention. You get the idea. It went on like this all night. Yes, I know, I'm a fucking cheeseball. Deal with it. But that's how I do. Halloween? Forget about it. I'm a cop? You're ass is gettin arrested. Wonder Woman? Prepare to be lassoed. A reporter/P.I. from the 70's in a trench coat? You will be interviewed and you will like it. All real costumes by the way. And so, I was Miss S. all night long and that is how my small fling with Nate began. It had to end because Lana was not liking it even a little bit. In fact, I remember one day hiding out at our friend Camie's house all day, afraid to go home and face Lana. Camie was hooking up with Nates roomate, "Tall Saul" and we had done the a.m. walk of shame together. It was not a cool thing for me to do.
So now, in our post-college adult years, Nate and I are just friends. He is no longer the adorable, tall, snowboarding bad-ass (well he's still tall) and I am no longer a cheeky fake teacher. But we are meeting for drinks on Monday and I will be sure to leave my glasses at home.
So I guess this is my new "Diary". However, I like writing better than typing, so I had written this all out in my jumpseat on the plane between beverage services and call button dings. If this sticks, you'll be reading a lot more blogs!
College friends, what were the names of some of our other friends houses? There were the "Chicago Boys", "12th and College?" anyway I hope you enjoyed the name changes haha!
Its 8:30pm and I'm going to bed in flint, mi. after spending the day here for work. Barely slept last night and have to wake up super early tomorrow. So goodnight folks and Happy Easter!
Friday, February 3, 2012
Schmooving continued...
Well, seeing as I have been snowed in all day and starting to catch the ol' cabin fever, I may as well get blogging!
First off, I'm over online dating right now. I'm tired of email banter and blind dates, so I'm taking a break.
Second of all, I'm homesick. I want to go home for an undisclosed amount of time. I have a good chunk of time off this month and am planning on going home to sort my shit out. And I'm kind of thinking I may want to stay for a little while, like a few months max. I'm in a lost puppy phase right now. Don't know where I want to be, but do know it's not couch surfing for much longer. But in order to go home, I have to transfer out of Denver, cuz that commute is a bitch I don't want to know.
Ok, now it's story time. So, my last trip I flew with a girl who was good friends with my ex boyfriend. Not the one I'm always whining about. Before that one. He's a pilot, we met on a trip, dated for 1 1/2 years then broke up. This guy was super duper fun, really sarcastic, and drank like a pirate. I'm not sure if that's even a thing people say, but Pirates of the Caribbean is on right now and it seems fitting. Anyway, in addition to all those things, he was insecure and always mad at me, with a dash of crazy every now and then. It was one of those crazy moments that made me end things with him once and for all. And he, in my mind, has hated me ever since. The last time I spoke to him was not long after we broke up, I saw him in the airport and was really excited about it. I nervously marched up to him while he blank stared at me and told his cell phone he'd call it back.
I tried to make small talk and he played along for about 10 seconds before he turned around and walked away from me while I was mid-sentence. I was devastated. I wrote him an email after that and maybe a text message and he never responded. So after that, when we would cross paths in the airport we either ignored each other or gave a simple head nod or uncomfortable wave.
So now I found myself on a 4 day trip with a girl who was good friends with him when we dated. We never met, but I heard about her all the time, and she hooked up with him before we met and would occasionally call him real late at night. And me and this girl really hit it off! We had a blast actually. And she tells me some things about my ex. The main, awful thing being that both of his parents passed away this past year and within a month of each other. This knocked the wind out of me. For anyone to go through that is unthinkable, but this was someone I cared about, lived with. I mean, I knew them. It breaks my heart. I can't stop thinking about it.
Now I'm faced with this: what do I do? Am I allowed to reach out to him? I want so much to write him, send my condolences, but is that what he would want? It's been 3 years since we broke up, he has a serious girlfriend, you would think he's let go of his disdain for me, but what if he hasn't? If he hasn't then is it messed up to send an email about something so sensitive? But it also feels messed up to know this and not say anything at all. I've been really torn about this. Any suggestions are welcome.
The other, much less important, thing is his current girlfriend. I found out pretty much right when I got out to Denver who he's dating. I forgot to mention he lives in Denver and has since I met him. Anyway when I heard who it was, my jaw hit the bar.
Before we started dating, he had been casually seeing another flight attendant. Apparently she wanted to be his gf, and he didn't want her to be. According to him, she was unattractive, a butterface with no boobs at best, unable to hold her own when out in a group, and they got in a blowout fight in Hawaii and she left him there. His story was that she was mad he wanted to read on the balcony all day, so she went out and got wasted with some dudes on a business trip. When she got back to the room they had a big fight, and she called security because she was afraid of him. She packed up and left right then.
Well, this girl I just flew with tells me the real story is the girl came back from Hawaii and was telling everyone at our airline that he had hit her! And that she had a black eye to go with her story! Who knows what to believe, but the point is, that is who he is now dating! And they live together! The way he talked about this girl to me, I can't believe it. She contacted him a couple times when we were together, and he just ignored her. I'm pretty sure he rebounded to her after we ended, and it stuck. The other interesting thing is that when we were together he was hard up to get married, talked about it all the time. They've been together over 2 years, and no ring yet. Just sayin. But, again, this pales in comparison to the other news.
Ok, I'm thinking about possibly going to Paris next week to see "Friendly Date?"'s band play. And to like hang out in Paris of course :) Yes, I'm referring to car-makeout-guy. His band is touring Europe at the moment and he's been bugging me to hop on a plane and come meet him, and I've been thinking about it. What do you think? The other options are to meet my parents in Maui for a few days, or just go back to Jax and nest and go stay with my grandma in amelia island. I mean I'll go see G-ma regardless of which plan is enacted, I have over a week off. So there you go.
This blog is making me feel a little funny. I think I sound shallow jumping from death to my petty life gossip, and I don't mean to. I've been thinking about that news every day, but am also trying to fit in everything that's happened this past week. So forgive me if I sound insensitive, its not how I feel.
Also, I love reading your comments so keep em coming! And I'm enjoying trying to figure out who all you "Anonymous" commenters are :) Who are you?? Haha...til next time...
JES
First off, I'm over online dating right now. I'm tired of email banter and blind dates, so I'm taking a break.
Second of all, I'm homesick. I want to go home for an undisclosed amount of time. I have a good chunk of time off this month and am planning on going home to sort my shit out. And I'm kind of thinking I may want to stay for a little while, like a few months max. I'm in a lost puppy phase right now. Don't know where I want to be, but do know it's not couch surfing for much longer. But in order to go home, I have to transfer out of Denver, cuz that commute is a bitch I don't want to know.
Ok, now it's story time. So, my last trip I flew with a girl who was good friends with my ex boyfriend. Not the one I'm always whining about. Before that one. He's a pilot, we met on a trip, dated for 1 1/2 years then broke up. This guy was super duper fun, really sarcastic, and drank like a pirate. I'm not sure if that's even a thing people say, but Pirates of the Caribbean is on right now and it seems fitting. Anyway, in addition to all those things, he was insecure and always mad at me, with a dash of crazy every now and then. It was one of those crazy moments that made me end things with him once and for all. And he, in my mind, has hated me ever since. The last time I spoke to him was not long after we broke up, I saw him in the airport and was really excited about it. I nervously marched up to him while he blank stared at me and told his cell phone he'd call it back.
I tried to make small talk and he played along for about 10 seconds before he turned around and walked away from me while I was mid-sentence. I was devastated. I wrote him an email after that and maybe a text message and he never responded. So after that, when we would cross paths in the airport we either ignored each other or gave a simple head nod or uncomfortable wave.
So now I found myself on a 4 day trip with a girl who was good friends with him when we dated. We never met, but I heard about her all the time, and she hooked up with him before we met and would occasionally call him real late at night. And me and this girl really hit it off! We had a blast actually. And she tells me some things about my ex. The main, awful thing being that both of his parents passed away this past year and within a month of each other. This knocked the wind out of me. For anyone to go through that is unthinkable, but this was someone I cared about, lived with. I mean, I knew them. It breaks my heart. I can't stop thinking about it.
Now I'm faced with this: what do I do? Am I allowed to reach out to him? I want so much to write him, send my condolences, but is that what he would want? It's been 3 years since we broke up, he has a serious girlfriend, you would think he's let go of his disdain for me, but what if he hasn't? If he hasn't then is it messed up to send an email about something so sensitive? But it also feels messed up to know this and not say anything at all. I've been really torn about this. Any suggestions are welcome.
The other, much less important, thing is his current girlfriend. I found out pretty much right when I got out to Denver who he's dating. I forgot to mention he lives in Denver and has since I met him. Anyway when I heard who it was, my jaw hit the bar.
Before we started dating, he had been casually seeing another flight attendant. Apparently she wanted to be his gf, and he didn't want her to be. According to him, she was unattractive, a butterface with no boobs at best, unable to hold her own when out in a group, and they got in a blowout fight in Hawaii and she left him there. His story was that she was mad he wanted to read on the balcony all day, so she went out and got wasted with some dudes on a business trip. When she got back to the room they had a big fight, and she called security because she was afraid of him. She packed up and left right then.
Well, this girl I just flew with tells me the real story is the girl came back from Hawaii and was telling everyone at our airline that he had hit her! And that she had a black eye to go with her story! Who knows what to believe, but the point is, that is who he is now dating! And they live together! The way he talked about this girl to me, I can't believe it. She contacted him a couple times when we were together, and he just ignored her. I'm pretty sure he rebounded to her after we ended, and it stuck. The other interesting thing is that when we were together he was hard up to get married, talked about it all the time. They've been together over 2 years, and no ring yet. Just sayin. But, again, this pales in comparison to the other news.
Ok, I'm thinking about possibly going to Paris next week to see "Friendly Date?"'s band play. And to like hang out in Paris of course :) Yes, I'm referring to car-makeout-guy. His band is touring Europe at the moment and he's been bugging me to hop on a plane and come meet him, and I've been thinking about it. What do you think? The other options are to meet my parents in Maui for a few days, or just go back to Jax and nest and go stay with my grandma in amelia island. I mean I'll go see G-ma regardless of which plan is enacted, I have over a week off. So there you go.
This blog is making me feel a little funny. I think I sound shallow jumping from death to my petty life gossip, and I don't mean to. I've been thinking about that news every day, but am also trying to fit in everything that's happened this past week. So forgive me if I sound insensitive, its not how I feel.
Also, I love reading your comments so keep em coming! And I'm enjoying trying to figure out who all you "Anonymous" commenters are :) Who are you?? Haha...til next time...
JES
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Dating Shmating, Moving Shmooving
Well, ladies and gents. Who am I kidding, there's no gents reading this. So, ladies...things are getting weird for me over here. But first let's talk about dating. More specifically, online dating.
As I mentioned in my last blog, I joined an online dating site since "moving" to Denver. Mostly to meet people, have things to do and, of course, move on from my ex-boyfriend. And regardless of the dates themselves, there is something to be said about having plans. Having plans makes me feel popular, less boring, and important. I mean don't you feel good about yourself when you can say, "Sorry, I have PLANS that evening"? Cause I sure do!
Anywho, I've been on 4 dates so far, with 4 different guys and have about a 50/50 success ratio. The first guy, I went out with just because he asked me and he looked cute in his pictures. I didn't really even read his profile. So I drove through a virtual snowstorm from Denver to Boulder, white-knuckling the steering wheel the entire time, to listen to this assface brag about all the degrees he has, books he's written, money he makes, then not even pick up our $16 tab. WTF? Needless to say, we were not a match.
Second date was also in Boulder. This one was much different. Very cool guy, laid back, fun. We sat in a sports bar watching football and I got to make my very own bloody marys at the bloody mary bar. We had a lot in common because he flies planes as a hobby and buys and sells planes for a living. Now, my initial reaction wasn't necessarily I-want-to-rip-your-clothes-off-and-hogtie-you-to-the-bedpost-too-much-information. But I definitely felt like he was into me and we would be seeing each other again. I mean, I got the cute follow-up texts that night, then another a few days later, and the day after that I asked what he was up to because I was going to Boulder, and all I got was "on my way to vail". That's it. No, "but when are you free?", No, "but what are you doing thursday?", nothing! That was a week ago and I haven't heard from him since. Any thoughts? I guess my radar is way off.
Third date was with the sweetest, nicest guy. A teacher. He wasn't as cute as his pictures, but he was so easy to be around, it didn't matter. We went to a climbing gym and out to dinner afterwards. I could tell he's a good teacher, because he was so patient teaching me all the climbing stuff (we actually had to take a demonstrative test before climbing). Anyway, we had fun! I thought! Again, I felt like he was totally into me and when he got home he texted me saying "Good date! Let's do it again sometime?" and I replied with a "definitely". That was a week ago, and still no word. Men are so weird.
Fourth date. This is the doozie. So I couldn't wait to meet this one guy that I had been talking to for a month. He seemed perfect. Tall, handsome, interesting, successful. He seemed to have it all. Online. When we were finally supposed to meet up, he canceled on me, so I wasn't sure if I wanted to go in for a second attempt. But I did. And here's what happened...
I was staying with friends, who were skiing in vail that day. I was also taking care of their 2 cats. Ten minutes before I'm supposed to go meet this guy at Starbucks, I go outside to toss the shitty kitty litter, close the door behind me to keep the cats from getting out ( you see where this is going?) and lock my stupid ass out the house. But it gets better. Not only am I locked OUT of the house, I'm also locked IN the back yard! They have an 8 ft wooden fence, and every single gate door is padlocked. I was in a mild panic. I had no jacket, no phone, no car keys, and no way out. For the next 20 minutes I try kicking the door in like on Law and Order, try opening locked windows, and try to figure out a way me and my high-heeled boots are gettin over this damn fence. And somehow I do it. Thanks to a broken plank, I am able to wedge my heel in and jump! And jump I did. Followed by running. To the nearest establishment, which happened to be a little Greek restaurant.
I breathlessly burst in, puke my story all over the first server I see, borrow his phone, call the Starbucks, ask the Starbucks guy to please find my date and give him the phone, talk to my date who says he will come get me, give him the address, and then sit and wait at the bar. The staff at this place was awesome. They gave me water, wine, pity, and shelter from the cold. The server sat with me at the bar, and brought it to my attention that my "friend" really should have been there by now. I certainly was getting concerned. It had been like 45 minutes, where was he? After 1 1/2 hours, I finally left the Greek place. I had gotten in touch with my friend I was staying with, she gave me some possible hide-a-key locations, and the server came with me to hop the fence so I wouldn't have to (awww...).
When I got inside, my phone had a missed call from my no-show date and a text saying "I'm at the front door, see you in a few." I mean what?? I clearly did not have my phone, hence the Starbucks call. And boy please. Tell me you didn't think to actually walk INSIDE the damn restaurant? So I sent a very annoyed wtf?! text message. He claimed it was all a big misunderstanding due to miscommunication, and would I like to meet for a drink. At first I did not. I mean I really felt like he just didn't want to get stuck with some locked out crazy, and thus purposefully misunderstood. But I went anyway. And when I spotted him at the bar, I was glad I did. Because he was even more gorgeous in person. And when he opened his mouth, I wished I'd stayed home with the kitty cats. Because he was a big douche. Another braggy, arrogant showboat. But at least this one paid.
And the last thing I'm going to say is, remember last time when I said I acted like a freak at that pilots house because I thought he wrote me on the online dating site, but it wasn't him after all yada yada? Well turns out that dude IS on that site and I got a notification that he checked out my profile! So, my nightmare kind of came true in the end and now it's so awkward that there is no way we could live together.
Moving schmooving will have to wait til next time, because ladies and ladies, I need to hit the hay. And if there are any gents out there reading this, I'd love to know about it!
Night night :)
As I mentioned in my last blog, I joined an online dating site since "moving" to Denver. Mostly to meet people, have things to do and, of course, move on from my ex-boyfriend. And regardless of the dates themselves, there is something to be said about having plans. Having plans makes me feel popular, less boring, and important. I mean don't you feel good about yourself when you can say, "Sorry, I have PLANS that evening"? Cause I sure do!
Anywho, I've been on 4 dates so far, with 4 different guys and have about a 50/50 success ratio. The first guy, I went out with just because he asked me and he looked cute in his pictures. I didn't really even read his profile. So I drove through a virtual snowstorm from Denver to Boulder, white-knuckling the steering wheel the entire time, to listen to this assface brag about all the degrees he has, books he's written, money he makes, then not even pick up our $16 tab. WTF? Needless to say, we were not a match.
Second date was also in Boulder. This one was much different. Very cool guy, laid back, fun. We sat in a sports bar watching football and I got to make my very own bloody marys at the bloody mary bar. We had a lot in common because he flies planes as a hobby and buys and sells planes for a living. Now, my initial reaction wasn't necessarily I-want-to-rip-your-clothes-off-and-hogtie-you-to-the-bedpost-too-much-information. But I definitely felt like he was into me and we would be seeing each other again. I mean, I got the cute follow-up texts that night, then another a few days later, and the day after that I asked what he was up to because I was going to Boulder, and all I got was "on my way to vail". That's it. No, "but when are you free?", No, "but what are you doing thursday?", nothing! That was a week ago and I haven't heard from him since. Any thoughts? I guess my radar is way off.
Third date was with the sweetest, nicest guy. A teacher. He wasn't as cute as his pictures, but he was so easy to be around, it didn't matter. We went to a climbing gym and out to dinner afterwards. I could tell he's a good teacher, because he was so patient teaching me all the climbing stuff (we actually had to take a demonstrative test before climbing). Anyway, we had fun! I thought! Again, I felt like he was totally into me and when he got home he texted me saying "Good date! Let's do it again sometime?" and I replied with a "definitely". That was a week ago, and still no word. Men are so weird.
Fourth date. This is the doozie. So I couldn't wait to meet this one guy that I had been talking to for a month. He seemed perfect. Tall, handsome, interesting, successful. He seemed to have it all. Online. When we were finally supposed to meet up, he canceled on me, so I wasn't sure if I wanted to go in for a second attempt. But I did. And here's what happened...
I was staying with friends, who were skiing in vail that day. I was also taking care of their 2 cats. Ten minutes before I'm supposed to go meet this guy at Starbucks, I go outside to toss the shitty kitty litter, close the door behind me to keep the cats from getting out ( you see where this is going?) and lock my stupid ass out the house. But it gets better. Not only am I locked OUT of the house, I'm also locked IN the back yard! They have an 8 ft wooden fence, and every single gate door is padlocked. I was in a mild panic. I had no jacket, no phone, no car keys, and no way out. For the next 20 minutes I try kicking the door in like on Law and Order, try opening locked windows, and try to figure out a way me and my high-heeled boots are gettin over this damn fence. And somehow I do it. Thanks to a broken plank, I am able to wedge my heel in and jump! And jump I did. Followed by running. To the nearest establishment, which happened to be a little Greek restaurant.
I breathlessly burst in, puke my story all over the first server I see, borrow his phone, call the Starbucks, ask the Starbucks guy to please find my date and give him the phone, talk to my date who says he will come get me, give him the address, and then sit and wait at the bar. The staff at this place was awesome. They gave me water, wine, pity, and shelter from the cold. The server sat with me at the bar, and brought it to my attention that my "friend" really should have been there by now. I certainly was getting concerned. It had been like 45 minutes, where was he? After 1 1/2 hours, I finally left the Greek place. I had gotten in touch with my friend I was staying with, she gave me some possible hide-a-key locations, and the server came with me to hop the fence so I wouldn't have to (awww...).
When I got inside, my phone had a missed call from my no-show date and a text saying "I'm at the front door, see you in a few." I mean what?? I clearly did not have my phone, hence the Starbucks call. And boy please. Tell me you didn't think to actually walk INSIDE the damn restaurant? So I sent a very annoyed wtf?! text message. He claimed it was all a big misunderstanding due to miscommunication, and would I like to meet for a drink. At first I did not. I mean I really felt like he just didn't want to get stuck with some locked out crazy, and thus purposefully misunderstood. But I went anyway. And when I spotted him at the bar, I was glad I did. Because he was even more gorgeous in person. And when he opened his mouth, I wished I'd stayed home with the kitty cats. Because he was a big douche. Another braggy, arrogant showboat. But at least this one paid.
And the last thing I'm going to say is, remember last time when I said I acted like a freak at that pilots house because I thought he wrote me on the online dating site, but it wasn't him after all yada yada? Well turns out that dude IS on that site and I got a notification that he checked out my profile! So, my nightmare kind of came true in the end and now it's so awkward that there is no way we could live together.
Moving schmooving will have to wait til next time, because ladies and ladies, I need to hit the hay. And if there are any gents out there reading this, I'd love to know about it!
Night night :)
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Moving and such...
As I have mentioned, I am in the process of relocating from Florida to Colorado. I'm not gonna sugarcoat it folks, moving is the worst. Ever. I have suitcases all over Denver, the majority of my crap is still back in Fla., along with my car which is sitting packed full of said crap on the side of the road just begging to be jacked. And because of this I am having to rent a car on all my days off, which is getting expensive. BUT I'm not paying rent, so that offsets the cost. Why am I not paying rent? Because I have not yet found a place to live.
My apartment hunting experience thus far has been interesting. It's interesting that in order to live where I want, in the kind of place I want, is out of my price range. So I can either live in an old apartment, where I want to be. Or a shiny new place a little less central. I hate compromise. There are 2 other options though.
Option 1: On my company website, I found an ad placed by a pilot for a room in his house, at a great price. He sent me pictures, and the place was gorgeous. I couldn't wait to cook dinners in his gourmet kitchen, sit by the fire in his modern living room, and lay my head on his (well my) down pillow. So we set up an appointment. I knew I wanted this place, it was just a matter of winning him over by appearing charming, respectful of others, responsible and clean. I giddily marched up his walkway and rang the doorbell. As he opened the door panic set in. I was absolutely sure this was the same pilot who a few days earlier had emailed me on an online dating site.
Ok, so this is hard for me to admit, but since coming out to Denver I have joined an online dating site. I have cringed at the idea for years, but after seeing almost all of my single friends doing it, I decided maybe it wasn't as creepy as I'd thought. Plus I really wanted to meet new people in my new city. It's been fun and weird, definitely entertaining, and now that I've admitted it, I will definitely do some blogging about my dating experiences. But back to the story. So I was mortified one day to find an email in my inbox from a pilot, identifying himself as working for my airline. Again, panic. I do not want anyone I work with to know I'm on there, let alone have to fly with this lonely man, let alone have to endure a house tour by this online dating maniac! So I immediately got real weird. I loved the house so much though that while trying to not reveal any personal information about myself that would lead to him discovering my true identity, I was still trying to win him over. This resulted in alot of nervous giggles and spastic conversation. Then I moved on to "Pick me! Pick me!" desperation. Not my finest moment. Needless to say the guys been wishy washy ever since, so I'm considering this option null and void. Oh and as soon as I peeled out of his driveway, I checked and it was so not the same guy. All that crazy for nothin!
Option 2: Old house in a more central location (pilot's house is kind of in the burbs) belonging to a 26 year-old male who is a friend of a friend. The house is definitely old, but also has character. There's a front porch, a big back deck with a hot tub and a sauna, and I still get my own bathroom. Plus the guy is so cool, I really wanna be his friend. But he has a dog, and I'm not totally into that. And I had this vision of moving to my new city and finally having a place of my own to decorate and buy furniture for and walk around in my underwear in. That's the other thing. Living with a guy, will I feel comfortable in my sports bra and zit cream on the couch? I guess I've done it before, and I suppose wearing more clothes isn't that hard. Plus, I think he could introduce me to more cool people in the Denver area.
So what to do folks? Roommate or independence? Seriously, I'm accepting any and all feedback. I'm looking at like 5 shiny new apts on Friday and have vowed to make a decision this weekend... Will keep you posted!
And happy birthday to my favorite little brother :)
My apartment hunting experience thus far has been interesting. It's interesting that in order to live where I want, in the kind of place I want, is out of my price range. So I can either live in an old apartment, where I want to be. Or a shiny new place a little less central. I hate compromise. There are 2 other options though.
Option 1: On my company website, I found an ad placed by a pilot for a room in his house, at a great price. He sent me pictures, and the place was gorgeous. I couldn't wait to cook dinners in his gourmet kitchen, sit by the fire in his modern living room, and lay my head on his (well my) down pillow. So we set up an appointment. I knew I wanted this place, it was just a matter of winning him over by appearing charming, respectful of others, responsible and clean. I giddily marched up his walkway and rang the doorbell. As he opened the door panic set in. I was absolutely sure this was the same pilot who a few days earlier had emailed me on an online dating site.
Ok, so this is hard for me to admit, but since coming out to Denver I have joined an online dating site. I have cringed at the idea for years, but after seeing almost all of my single friends doing it, I decided maybe it wasn't as creepy as I'd thought. Plus I really wanted to meet new people in my new city. It's been fun and weird, definitely entertaining, and now that I've admitted it, I will definitely do some blogging about my dating experiences. But back to the story. So I was mortified one day to find an email in my inbox from a pilot, identifying himself as working for my airline. Again, panic. I do not want anyone I work with to know I'm on there, let alone have to fly with this lonely man, let alone have to endure a house tour by this online dating maniac! So I immediately got real weird. I loved the house so much though that while trying to not reveal any personal information about myself that would lead to him discovering my true identity, I was still trying to win him over. This resulted in alot of nervous giggles and spastic conversation. Then I moved on to "Pick me! Pick me!" desperation. Not my finest moment. Needless to say the guys been wishy washy ever since, so I'm considering this option null and void. Oh and as soon as I peeled out of his driveway, I checked and it was so not the same guy. All that crazy for nothin!
Option 2: Old house in a more central location (pilot's house is kind of in the burbs) belonging to a 26 year-old male who is a friend of a friend. The house is definitely old, but also has character. There's a front porch, a big back deck with a hot tub and a sauna, and I still get my own bathroom. Plus the guy is so cool, I really wanna be his friend. But he has a dog, and I'm not totally into that. And I had this vision of moving to my new city and finally having a place of my own to decorate and buy furniture for and walk around in my underwear in. That's the other thing. Living with a guy, will I feel comfortable in my sports bra and zit cream on the couch? I guess I've done it before, and I suppose wearing more clothes isn't that hard. Plus, I think he could introduce me to more cool people in the Denver area.
So what to do folks? Roommate or independence? Seriously, I'm accepting any and all feedback. I'm looking at like 5 shiny new apts on Friday and have vowed to make a decision this weekend... Will keep you posted!
And happy birthday to my favorite little brother :)
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Back to work...
Well, after 2 weeks off, I went back to work yesterday. Annnd it got off to a rocky start.
Because I just transferred to Denver, and have applied for but not received my SIDA badge (I forget what that stands for but basically we swipe it to get into secure areas of the airport) I have to stand around and wait for another employee to come along to escort me to our main crew room at DIA. So I arrive at the elevator, which does not open without a badge swipe, with 12 minutes before I have to check in, and wait. And wait and wait and wait. No one shows up. All the sudden I hear it coming up, the doors open, a maintenance guy walks off and I take the opportunity to jump in, hoping someone will summon it from the crew room and I can jump off. Nope. No one is summoning. And I can't open the door without a badge. So I'm stuck in this friggin elevator, with no cell phone service! I'm trying to call my company and every time they hang up because they can't hear me. I start to panic, because not only am I stuck in this hot, cramped elevator, but I'm also going to be late for work. It was almost 10 minutes before it finally started to move. And praise Jesus, it opened on the right floor. So I run to the computers to check in, 2 min late already and because I haven't been at work in so long, I have about 15 red priority messages in my inbox I have to open before it will let me check in. Long story short, I was late.
But there's more. My next stop was my locker, where I had to pick up my work coat and my flight attendant manual. And for some reason I cannot get my combination lock to open. I couldn't remember if I had to do a full turn, one-and-a-half turns, partial turn?? I mean I haven't used a master lock since high school. It's just not opening. Finally, after a few tries, it does. So I'm quickly trying to reorganize, I have a million things in my hands, my hair's in my face and I have no idea how I'm getting back up the elevator to go to work, and I look up and see my number one pilot crush walking right towards me. We will just call him Capt. X. Capt. X is just dreamy. He's cool, laid back, tan and gorgeous. Once he told me he wanted to go to costa rica with me, and I couldn't eat for a week. I love him. And at this moment, I need him. To let me up the elevator. Which he is more than happy to do, but not before I drop a few things, stumble, turn bright red and take entirely too long to get my shit together. X tells me he is leaving our airline for a bigger and better one in 3 weeks, and that he will email me before then. I don't really believe him, because every time I see him he tells me he's coming to Florida to hang out, and it's never happened. He sure is cute though :)
It is now day 2 of my 4 day trip. I'm in Vancouver and there is a Steve Nash fitness center attached to our hotel. The other FA and I made plans to take a class there today. We ended up doing a Tabata class. Ever heard of it? Me neither. But basically you do one intense exercise for 20 seconds, 8 times, with 10 sec between each set. And then switch to another exercise and do it again. Basically it's 20 seconds of hell you have to relive every 10 seconds. For an HOUR. The class started at noon and I had not eaten, which I knew was going to bite me in the ass, because you need fuel to withstand this kind of unique torture. So after I whipped someone with my jumprope and nearly passed out, I said "peace out suckas!" I made it to 12:30. Then headed straight to the smoothie counter. I could literally feel the blood going back into my brain with every sip. I've been watching a "Storage Wars" marathon ever since. Lesson learned: I need to get in shape and stop skipping breakfast!
For those of you interested in my progress in Denver; I still have not found an apartment I like, BUT am seeing an amazing looking house on Thursday after work. A pilot is looking for a roomie, and even though I swore I'd live alone, this place looks so gorgeous AND the price is right AND I wouldn't have to buy any furniture. So as long as the pictures are accurate and this guy isn't a big weirdo, it's pretty much a done deal for me. Will keep you posted...:)
Because I just transferred to Denver, and have applied for but not received my SIDA badge (I forget what that stands for but basically we swipe it to get into secure areas of the airport) I have to stand around and wait for another employee to come along to escort me to our main crew room at DIA. So I arrive at the elevator, which does not open without a badge swipe, with 12 minutes before I have to check in, and wait. And wait and wait and wait. No one shows up. All the sudden I hear it coming up, the doors open, a maintenance guy walks off and I take the opportunity to jump in, hoping someone will summon it from the crew room and I can jump off. Nope. No one is summoning. And I can't open the door without a badge. So I'm stuck in this friggin elevator, with no cell phone service! I'm trying to call my company and every time they hang up because they can't hear me. I start to panic, because not only am I stuck in this hot, cramped elevator, but I'm also going to be late for work. It was almost 10 minutes before it finally started to move. And praise Jesus, it opened on the right floor. So I run to the computers to check in, 2 min late already and because I haven't been at work in so long, I have about 15 red priority messages in my inbox I have to open before it will let me check in. Long story short, I was late.
But there's more. My next stop was my locker, where I had to pick up my work coat and my flight attendant manual. And for some reason I cannot get my combination lock to open. I couldn't remember if I had to do a full turn, one-and-a-half turns, partial turn?? I mean I haven't used a master lock since high school. It's just not opening. Finally, after a few tries, it does. So I'm quickly trying to reorganize, I have a million things in my hands, my hair's in my face and I have no idea how I'm getting back up the elevator to go to work, and I look up and see my number one pilot crush walking right towards me. We will just call him Capt. X. Capt. X is just dreamy. He's cool, laid back, tan and gorgeous. Once he told me he wanted to go to costa rica with me, and I couldn't eat for a week. I love him. And at this moment, I need him. To let me up the elevator. Which he is more than happy to do, but not before I drop a few things, stumble, turn bright red and take entirely too long to get my shit together. X tells me he is leaving our airline for a bigger and better one in 3 weeks, and that he will email me before then. I don't really believe him, because every time I see him he tells me he's coming to Florida to hang out, and it's never happened. He sure is cute though :)
It is now day 2 of my 4 day trip. I'm in Vancouver and there is a Steve Nash fitness center attached to our hotel. The other FA and I made plans to take a class there today. We ended up doing a Tabata class. Ever heard of it? Me neither. But basically you do one intense exercise for 20 seconds, 8 times, with 10 sec between each set. And then switch to another exercise and do it again. Basically it's 20 seconds of hell you have to relive every 10 seconds. For an HOUR. The class started at noon and I had not eaten, which I knew was going to bite me in the ass, because you need fuel to withstand this kind of unique torture. So after I whipped someone with my jumprope and nearly passed out, I said "peace out suckas!" I made it to 12:30. Then headed straight to the smoothie counter. I could literally feel the blood going back into my brain with every sip. I've been watching a "Storage Wars" marathon ever since. Lesson learned: I need to get in shape and stop skipping breakfast!
For those of you interested in my progress in Denver; I still have not found an apartment I like, BUT am seeing an amazing looking house on Thursday after work. A pilot is looking for a roomie, and even though I swore I'd live alone, this place looks so gorgeous AND the price is right AND I wouldn't have to buy any furniture. So as long as the pictures are accurate and this guy isn't a big weirdo, it's pretty much a done deal for me. Will keep you posted...:)
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Friendly Date?
Hi blog peeps! Well it's a new year and with it comes the familiar resolution of the "D" word. Yes, my friends, D-I-E-T. I started mine out with 2 cupcakes for breakfast, taco bell for lunch and a steak dinner. I probably lost like 5 lbs today ;) No, but seriously, my friend Heidi and I have resolved to lose 20 lbs before my brother's wedding in Bali in May. She's at -6 and I'm at +1 I think, so it is time to step up my game. The thing is, I would not have eaten so poorly if it wasn't for the all the drinking I did last night. Ahhh last night...
So, a boy I know from high school (although I never really knew him, because he was a grade above me in school and we never spoke to each other) who has been a facebook friend for years, emailed me last month asking if I would be home for the holidays and would I like to hang out. Since I was going to be home, and only have about 3 friends in town, my answer to both questions was "yes". Now, what I was not expecting was the daily text invitations. I mean he really wanted to get together. He texted with such persistent vigor that I started to wonder if we had actually been friends and I had just blocked it out. After about a week of not getting together, we finally did. Last night. At Kickbacks. Where we drank for 4 hours straight, and I arrived a ball of nerves feeling like I was going on a blind date. Which it almost kind of was, except in my mind this was not a date whatsoever, more like a high school reunion where the people have no idea who each other are.
Now this gentleman is very nice, easy going and reasonably chatty. But I still was not getting that romantic feeling. Until my 4th vodka soda. Yes, things did take a turn towards the end of the night. We will get to that, but first, let's talk about the weird thing that happened somewhere in the middle of our special time together. While out on my non-date, a man approached our table and actually asked me out on a real date, while my friend was sitting right next to me at the table. It was kind of bizarre and his lead in was that he was a journalist and writing an article on dating and would I like to participate. I said "suuuuuure?" at which point he said "I'm just kidding, but will you go out with me?" I was a little confused and a lot uncomfortable. But it gets worse. My man friend then says "How do you know we aren't on a date??" To which the guy responds, "Oh, you're not her type." And my friend's jaw hit the table, because, well, that was rude as hell. Then the new guy starts rambling on about how he missed an opportunity with the homecoming queen and he didn't want to let that happen again so can I please have your number etc etc. And I just said "Why don't you just give me yours?" And he did. And I'll admit I still have it, but will not be using it, like ever.
We left the bar close to closing time and since everywhere else was closed, we decided to go pick up this small bottle of bourbon I had left over from new years eve, and sit and drink it in his car in my parents driveway, while listening to all kinds of wonderful music I'd never heard before. And then we made out. For, like, a really long time. And I officially felt like I was in high school again. Then I went upstairs to my bedroom, burst into tears, and drunk dialed my ex-boyfriend. Is it 1997 up in here or what?
So, a boy I know from high school (although I never really knew him, because he was a grade above me in school and we never spoke to each other) who has been a facebook friend for years, emailed me last month asking if I would be home for the holidays and would I like to hang out. Since I was going to be home, and only have about 3 friends in town, my answer to both questions was "yes". Now, what I was not expecting was the daily text invitations. I mean he really wanted to get together. He texted with such persistent vigor that I started to wonder if we had actually been friends and I had just blocked it out. After about a week of not getting together, we finally did. Last night. At Kickbacks. Where we drank for 4 hours straight, and I arrived a ball of nerves feeling like I was going on a blind date. Which it almost kind of was, except in my mind this was not a date whatsoever, more like a high school reunion where the people have no idea who each other are.
Now this gentleman is very nice, easy going and reasonably chatty. But I still was not getting that romantic feeling. Until my 4th vodka soda. Yes, things did take a turn towards the end of the night. We will get to that, but first, let's talk about the weird thing that happened somewhere in the middle of our special time together. While out on my non-date, a man approached our table and actually asked me out on a real date, while my friend was sitting right next to me at the table. It was kind of bizarre and his lead in was that he was a journalist and writing an article on dating and would I like to participate. I said "suuuuuure?" at which point he said "I'm just kidding, but will you go out with me?" I was a little confused and a lot uncomfortable. But it gets worse. My man friend then says "How do you know we aren't on a date??" To which the guy responds, "Oh, you're not her type." And my friend's jaw hit the table, because, well, that was rude as hell. Then the new guy starts rambling on about how he missed an opportunity with the homecoming queen and he didn't want to let that happen again so can I please have your number etc etc. And I just said "Why don't you just give me yours?" And he did. And I'll admit I still have it, but will not be using it, like ever.
We left the bar close to closing time and since everywhere else was closed, we decided to go pick up this small bottle of bourbon I had left over from new years eve, and sit and drink it in his car in my parents driveway, while listening to all kinds of wonderful music I'd never heard before. And then we made out. For, like, a really long time. And I officially felt like I was in high school again. Then I went upstairs to my bedroom, burst into tears, and drunk dialed my ex-boyfriend. Is it 1997 up in here or what?
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