What's At The End Of This Tunnel? Could It Be...Light?

Ever just been overjoyed and filled with gratitude?  That was me today.  Seriously, just so overwhelmed by the generosity and support of others.

I got the draft of my grant complete! Good thing #1.  Cannot tell you what a relief that is or how much better I feel. I still have one section left - it's suppose to be optional, but really isn't optional at all. Not if you want to get funded. It's like bonus points  that you can't afford to pass up. I actually plan to knock that out next Monday and Tuesday because I'll be the only one in the office and there really shouldn't be too much traffic. But the bulk of the application is complete! Yay, I can breathe again!

Then I sat down with the advisor for our program and we ran through her edits/suggestions. I had been sending her pieces to read as I completed them and told her to be critical. And I honestly want her to be because that's the only way to get good - you can't improve the weaknesses you don't see.  We got through most of the edits and there weren't many. I kinda think I did an okay job writing this thing. Good thing #2.

I submitted a few sections of the grant to an external reader for a second review. I have to say, I could not have done any of this without her assistance. She was so helpful when I met with her last month at conference.  I felt like she genuinely cared about my grant and seemed like she would do anything to help. During the meeting she even emailed me some templates to use.  Like, who does that? In the grant world, no one.  

We've had some correspondence and she understand the situation I'm in and that I'm doing this alone, with no grant writing experience. So after I sent her the three sections she's going to read, she sent me templates for all the other sections! Good think #3. I've already written them but it will be really helpful to go back and compare to know if I'm on the right track.

So I'm feeling really good. Relieved. Hopeful. Grateful.  I've made it through the most difficult part of the process and I am happy!

*Side note to say my blog DOES NOT represent my writing skills. I promise!  Every time I read an old post, I find errors. Every time. It's embarrassing. I really do know proper grammar. Now the spelling...eh, the spelling is probably questionable. But the grammar, I've got that.  So I have no excuse- I'm just a sloppy blogger. I may, or may not, try to get better about reading/proofing but I'm not making any promises.

FML

It's nearly 2:30 a.m. and I am running out of ways to procrastinate.  I'm suppose to be writing my grant. But my brain is just done. I'm on what should be a simple section but I can't even muddle through it. Largely because I just feel so damn lost. How do I know what they want? How do I know it will make sense? How do I write this damn thing? 

Have I not filled you in on that? Surprise, surprise - guess who's writing? I officially got told last week. Last week! That should tell you everything you need to know about how this entire thing has been handled. That and the fact that the original grant writer leaned over to me in a meeting and said, and this is an exact quote, "Well, you can write it and when it doesn't get refunded I'll say see, you should have submitted mine." I wanted to punch him right in his snarky little face.

But only violent people do that. And I'm not violent. See, I'm really not or I would have knocked him out. Or at least tried too.

What was worse than him actually having the audacity to say that to me was the fact that both his supervisor and my supervisor were also in the meeting and neither one said anything. At one point I cut him off and said "Excuse me? Do NOT talk to me that way."

But why did it even get that far? One of those two should have reigned him in and shut him down. Weak. Weak. Weak.

Okay, see what happens when I don't get enough sleep. Two nights of no sleep and I turn into a bitter, ranting hag - not a good look. I'm shutting my own self down and calling it a night!

Pretty Please

**Proceed with caution. This is a really personal post that includes adult content. And the word Vagina. If either one of those makes you uncomfortable, you probably shouldn't read any further.**

Soooo remember in an old post when I was talking about my sense of humor and how sometimes people could interpret it as insecurity but I said that was never true because the things I'm really insecure about are the things I never talk about?

Of course you don't remember...it was just a random line in an old post from several years ago. But it's true.  I will joke all day long about my height, make fun of my dumbo ears, laugh at myself for being a lousy cook and crack jokes about being a chubby chick  strike that, fat chick now because who am I kidding?  I've passed the chubby threshold...but the point is, I can do all that because I'm not insecure about any of it. Do I like that fact that my ears jut out? Or that I have muffin top and back fat? Or that I'm shorter than most 12 year olds? Not particularly. Do I feel self-conscience about any of it? Not particularly.

But I am insecure. I have huge insecurities. Which is why I have no idea why I'm about to share one of them. Okay, here goes...*Deep breath

One of the things I am most insecure about  is the fact that I *Oh my God. Am I really gonna do this? Okay. Just say it - really quick. Ihaveanuglyvagina. Yes. You read that right. I have an ugly vagina. Don't laugh! It's a serious thing. For real.

I had no clue, for a very long time. I mean, it's not like I had a frame of reference or anything. I've got the one, and that's it and I pretty much assumed they all looked alike. My first boyfriend, who was my first everything, never said a word. And when I said he was my first everything, I really mean everything.  Before him, I had never even seen male anatomy - like, not even a picture. I was so inexperienced. And clueless. But how could I be anything different when I didn't even know what my options were? It's not like they teach technique in sex ed and I never found a copy of Sex For Newbies.

So it wasn't great.  I didn't know it at the time - I just thought that's how it was done. It wasn't until I learned to have sex that I was like "Oh my God - this is how it's suppose to be? This! Is! Awesome!"

And I totally fault him. He was several years old than me and a real slut. You would think someone that had slept with so many people might be able to provide some instruction. Some feedback. Some type of guidance. But no - there was nothing. It was a very in the dark, under covers, not really looking at each other thing. And I think maybe that's why he never said anything to me. I honestly don't think he ever looked at me enough to notice...

So fast forward several years and some experience later: My husband and I have been dating a while and we've gotten into the comfortable stage. And he starts teasing me about it. And here's the thing - you can't "tease" a woman about her vagina. Ever. Just...no.

I was shocked - they don't all look the same? And mines ugly? I had no clue - it's not like I ever had a guy run away in horror screaming "Oh my God, No! It's too disgusting!" So it's not like it's gross, right? Right?

So I blew off the teasing as just that - teasing. But then, in the back of my mind the thoughts started to grow.  I started getting paranoid. What if it was gross? And over the years I started to feel a little self-conscience and then really self-conscience. So one day I did what any reasonable person would do - I googled it. And then I really felt bad.  Whatever you do, don't ever google it!

I call my oldest friend and start the conversation with "I HAVE AN UGLY VAGINA!" She didn't miss a beat. "How do you know?" "Because I googled it!" And apparently that didn't seem odd to her because the next thing she said was "Oh my God. What are you going to do?" She said it really sympathetically - like I'd lost my job or something. Huh? What am I going to do? It's a vagina...what can I do?

But there was something.

So the next morning I called my OB/GYN. I wasn't really sure how any of this worked I mean, how do you have a conversation like that? but I was determined. When the nurse answered the phone I asked to speak to the doctor. Of course, they weren't having any of that. I explained that I wanted to speak with her about a referral. Well, that really confused her so she asked what type of referral.  "A plastic surgeon." "A plastic surgeon? Honey, she's in Gynecology." "I know. I need to talk to her about a plastic surgeon....for a...uh...for a...uh...a labiaplasty" There was a deafening silence. Then "Okay, what's your name and number and we'll have her call you." Ugh. Really? Do I have to give you my name and number? Because I basically just told you that I wanted to have plastic surgery on my lady parts and I would feel soooo much better about that if you didn't know who I was.

Less than 5 minutes later my phone rings. "Amber, this is Dr. Hager. What's this about a labiaplasty? Why are you wanting to do this?!" So I explain, I feel self-conscience, I'm not happy with the way it looks...and I have the coolest OB/GYN.  If she didn't see me in stirrups with my knees up to my ears, she would totally be someone I would hang out with. Then she tells me - like a girlfriend, not like a doctor- "You could get an infection, have permanent scarring, suffer nerve damage, lose sensation and decrease your ability to orgasm. You really do not want to do this. Besides, there's only three people that see your vagina - you, your husband and me." Which technically isn't true. Because I don't see it.

My mind was pretty much changed the minute she mentioned loss of sensation and not being able to find the "happy place".  Because really, it doesn't matter how pretty it is if it doesn't work. I need it to work.

So that night I kinda casually mention the phone call to the doctor to my husband just to see what he would say and he flips out. I think the opening phrase was "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard! Why would you do that?" So I repeated some of the comments he's made. Actually, I think it I repeated all of the comments he's made. It must really suck for him that I have such a ferocious memory.  "I was just giving you a hard time!" he said, laughing. Yes. But you were giving me a hard time about my vagina. That doesn't fall into the simple "razzing" category.

That next afternoon my phone rings - my oldest friend. I answer the phone to "I HAVE AN UGLY VAGINA TOO!" "Ohhh no. You googled it, didn't you?"

I'm sharing this really embarrassing thing to highlight two very important life lessons: if you can't say anything nice about the V, don't say anything at all and whatever you do,  don't ever google it!

Boat Babe

I'm sitting here trying to type. Carefully, because I just painted my nails. That's not something I do often. I love the way it looks but it's a maintenance issue - I can't stand chipped nails. It looks so unkept and slouchy to me. If you're going to paint them, you have to take care of them. And on my long list of things to do each night, maintaining nail polish doesn't usually rank. 

But I needed to do something to make myself feel pretty. So painted nails it is...

That's actually the third good thing I've done for myself today. Because I also drank water and went to the gym! 

It doesn't sound like a big deal, but I hardly ever drink water - unless I'm at a restaurant, then I'll order a water with lemon. Other than that, it's like never. Seriously, I've gone multiple weeks without a glass of water. Technically your body get hydrated from multiple sources so it's not like I've been dehydrated. But I'm hydrating with the wrong things. Unhealthy things. 

So, I printed out a water tracking sheet to try to help keep me accountable. The goal is 64 ounces of water a day.  I drank 48 during work hours today. I also went to the bathroom about that many times too. It was odd, I'm sure, to see me running to the bathroom every 10 minutes. Really, I'm not having any issues - just small bladder and lots of water. No worries! Probably not real great for productivity but I was getting in some steps so that's a bonus.

I also got in some steps at the gym. It's been so long, I wasn't sure I could remember how to get there. Seriously, I don't remember the last time I went. But I had to go. Like it's not even a choice.  I eat way too unhealthy to not do anything. Plus, I've blown up. BLOWN. UP. 

I had gained a little weight - no, there's no such thing as a "little" weight with me, five pounds on my frame looks like ten. So, I had gained some weight during the last couple of months.  I didn't buy anything new to wear for the conference last month (I know, that's a first) and as I was trying on dresses, they weren't fitting. I said to my husband, "Man, I've gained weight! Can you tell?" and he said yes. Not in a jerky way, but in a sincere, I'm answering your question truthfully way. 

And I've gained even more since then.  I got on the scale at my Mom's house and I'm the heaviest I've ever been. Ever. Whoah.  Apparently, this emotional eating thing isn't working out so well for me. Now I'm just stressed and fat.

You would think the shock from the number I saw on the scale would be a good motivator. Or my clothes not fitting would be a good motivator. Or the fact that I am one french fry away from someone asking when I’m due might be a good motivator.

Nope.

None of that seemed to have any impact, whatsoever. Then the other day, something happened.  I’ve shared that my husband is honest. Sometimes when I share things, that can make him look like a jerk. Mainly because you don’t have the opportunity to actually hear it and two, because you don’t know him. But here’s the thing – if I ask him a question, he answers me honestly. Each and every time. Always.

So if I ask him if I look fat and he thinks I do, he’ll tell me. I never get offended by that. In fact, I appreciate it. And here’s why – because I can always, always trust that he’s authentic.  So when he tells me I look good – which happens more frequently than anything negative, by the way – I absolutely believe him. I know he’s not just trying to make me feel good or telling me what I want to hear. He only tells me that when he believes it. 

So the other day, I was sitting in front of my mirror in a towel, blow-drying my hair when he rushes in to the bedroom, phone in his hand and exclaims “I found a picture of you!” Of course, I was all “What are you talking about?” and he proceeds to pull up a photo gallery from facebook. One of those that shows a series of pictures that have funny things in them that you have to really look at them to catch it…and the very first one was a picture of a model, laying on her stomach in a thong bikini.  He was convinced it looked like me. 

"See, doesn’t that look like you? It looks just like you!” He was so convinced he even asked, only half joking, if I was sure no one ever took pictures of me on any long ago college spring break trips. So convinced that a few days later he even showed the picture to my Grandma, Mom and sisters. "Doesn't that look just like Amber?"

Just for the record – I’ve never, ever in my life had a body like the model in the picture, I’ve never laid on a boat and posed for pictures and I’ve never owned or worn a thong bikini. Well, not intentionally. I may have some bikini bottoms that are now so small that they may appear to be a thong…but I won’t be wearing those any time soon.

Obviously, it wasn’t me. The girl was a model for crying out loud! She was beautiful…gorgeous, really.  But it touched me that he thought we looked alike. Like I couldn’t wrap my brain around that fact that he would think I’m that pretty. Especially because he’s the one to see me at my very worst – crusties in my eyes, smeared makeup, slumpy clothes. That man has seen me gross, gross, gross. And he still thinks I look like that? Mind blowing.

So it kinda motivated me, pushed me out of this slump. So I’ve decided to try to be better – to just try, at least.  Not for him, but because of him.  If that even makes sense.

And at this point, I don’t care even if it doesn’t make sense because I just needed something to get me to put down the chips and get off the couch.  So here I go. Again. I may not be the most consistent or hardcore person, but at least I’m making an effort. And that's a start!

Turkey Do

I would like to say that my absence was due to Thanksgiving festivities but that's not entirely true. Mostly true, but not entirely. I did, however, have a wonderful Thanksgiving. Actually one of the best in a very, very long time.

First and foremost - no traveling to my in-laws! Instead,  my husband extended an invitation to his family to come to our house. No Thanksgiving night in a hotel! No McDonalds on Thanksgiving! We get to watch the Macy's Day parade! This is gonna be great!  Flash to the thought of the 9 of them throwing their used toilet paper in my trash can, instead of flushing it down the toilet...no, it's still gonna be great!

And it got even better. Because they didn't come! I know that sounds so hateful. It's horrible, I know. Completely horrible. And yet, it made me so happy.

So I got to host Thanksgiving for my SIL (the newly reconnected one), her family and an old friend. Now, this is a major feat for someone that cooks like...never. I mean, yeah, I make dinner but I don't cook. If it comes from a box or a sack - I'm good. Most the time. But to really cook? Yeah, I don't do that. I don't enjoy cooking. Mainly because I'm not good at it.  I know I'm suppose to feel inadequate or something because that's not a skill I have...but I'm not heartbroken over it. So I'm not a good cook? There are lots of other things I'm good at. Not exactly sure what those other things are...but I know there's something.

I have been in the kitchen enough to know that a large part of it is timing. So, I made a list (you know how I love a good list) and timed everything out. Yes, I made a timeline for my dishes. And I do have to say that it worked perfectly - everything was done and still hot. It was perfect.

Food prep - I got this!

And no major disasters either. Actually no disasters of any kind. Not that I made anything hard - although I did make dressing from scratch. Like I boiled a chicken for the broth kind of scratch. But even that wasn't hard - just time consuming. So I would call my first Thanksgiving a success.

As an added bonus, I actually got to have Thanksgiving with my family too. We split our holidays so I usually don't get to spend it with them but this year they decided to do it on the weekend so it worked out. Super low-key because I didn't host - just had to show up with asparagus casserole and a smile. And eat myself to death. I don't know why, but my family is always worried about running out of food. Really? We're all like 20 pounds overweight, I think we'll survive without a piece of pie. Of course, I totally ate one.

It was that sugar rush that helped me establish myself as Queen of Pit - I smoked everybody! If you don't know, that's a really fun game. It's based on the stock market, which doesn't sound fun at all. You have got to try this game - it's the coolest thing ever! You just have to try to collect a full set of commodities. You know, like wheat, barley, oats, corn...Yeeeah, doesn't sound real exciting. But it is! It's my party must have. So. Much. Fun.

So super great Thanksgiving.  Although I will say that I am up to here with Turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes and anything else Thanksgivingish. You can only eat the same meal so many times in a row. And I think 5 days may have been pushing it.

And I got my Christmas decorations up!  What an experience that was! But that's a story for another day. A story involving broken bulbs, bruises and a whole lot of brawn.  Let's juts say my Christmas spirit will not be defeated!  So hello holidays!

Undone

Well folks, hate to be the bearer of bad news but it appears I'm not well. I mean, physically I'm fine...but otherwise, don't think I'm doing so great.  

Unless it's normal to break down and just crumple like a hot mess. It's not? You sure? Not even for those of us with a little...flair for the dramatic?

That's what I was afraid of.  Weeell, this is no good.

I kinda knew I had reached a point of concern when I walked out of my office yesterday in tears. I actually made it to my car before any fell, which required an impressive amount of restraint. I was doing that weird trying-not-to-cry face. That's not a face anyone can pull off - I don't care how cute you are, it's ugly. I had just opened the door to walk out to the parking lot when it hit me all the sudden I knew I was about to cry. My first thought was " Oh. My. God. Get your shit together!" Sorry about the language, my inner dialogue has a mouth like a sailor. My second thought was "Ugh, now I'm gonna make the face."

I can't tell you specifically what brought me to the point of tears because honestly, it wasn't one specific thing. And it's not even the crying really. Because I'm a crier. Sad movie, sad story, or anything emotional and the tears are on...but generally it's caused by my ability to empathize. And not just because I'm an emotional mess.

And I don't know why - I'm not sure what's happened to me. I can usually cope with stress, with issues, with whatever...but it's like I’ve suddenly lost that ability.  And I'm wondering what the heck is wrong with me because I don't like it, don't like it at all.

Even at conference – I found myself feeling territorial, bitchy, jealous. And that’s not me, at all. Well, maybe the bitchy part. Just a little. But I behaved badly over something stupid and was totally rude to someone that completely didn't deserve it. That's out of character for me as I usually reserve my rudeness for jerks and idiots. But really,  I usually try to handle myself better than that, not matter how I feel. And I still feel guilty for it. 

I thought then that it was probably hormones. Wait, I’m not pulling the whole female card as an excuse–I’m not, hear me out. My schedule is like clockwork  - to the day. But I got paranoid that things were going to happen early. Start at conference? Uh, I don’t think so. So I downed a couple of birth control pills. Take that biological system! In my 38 years on earth, I haven’t learned how to manipulate people but I sure as hell know how to manipulate a menstrual cycle.

I’m not normally on the pill, so when I acted out and couldn't deal with things I chalked it up to the synthetic hormones I had dumped into my body. I figured my system was on estrogen overload. But it’s apparent that’s not it. Somehow, I’ve just come undone.

And I got some upsetting news while I was at conference. Nothing that I didn't expect, but still hard to hear. And it surprised me that I could be surprised by something that, really, I already knew. I'm not sure if that speaks more to my abilities at denial or to my optimism.

Either way, it means that I'm probably going to end up writing our grant. I'm not experienced or qualified - what I am is scared to death. It's a huge responsibility.  I would feel responsible either way, but if I'm actually writing it - it changes everything. If we aren't funded,  I will forever wonder if (and believe) we could have made it if someone else has written. I just don't know if I can do it. And I may not get/have to - we're still playing politics. Fun, fun.

And it's funny that people on the outside feel such confidence in me - like I just want to scream "You're wrong - I'm not as capable as you think!"- because the reality is that I'm not. Here I am, failing in so many ways, and people are coming to me for answers, coming to me for the fix.  Look, I don't know how to tell you this people, but you are in serious trouble if you're looking to me for answers.

So I'm going to take a minute to wrap myself back up and get myself back. This emotional, soppy mess stuff is for the birds...

El Presidenta

We had a cheer meeting last Friday. To show you just what a good cheer Mom I am, I actually didn't even know we had a meeting. What I did know was that someone in our squad had arranged to have a bake sale/garage sale and that I was going to be out of town during it. I missed competition and now the sale? I could just imagine how that was going to go over.

So my plan was to run by the store, grab some brownies or something and drop them off somewhere. I don't look like a completely bad Mom, they've got goodies to sale and all is well. So I sent a quick text on the way home asking where to drop off.

That's when I got the "You can bring them to our meeting tonight." Meeting? What meeting? Oh. I missed that text.

Meeting in 30 minutes and I haven't even made it home yet? Perfect.

That's when I also learned that one Mom had made 4 banana breads, 6 pumpkin breads, 6 cakes, 6 pies, 60 muffins, 72 cupcakes and TWO HUNDRED cookies. TWO. HUNDRED. FREAKIN. COOKIES.

And my idea of picking up some store bought brownies slowly deflates and crumples like an old balloon.

What? Is this Mom trying to start her own bakery or something? Seriously? Two hundred cookies? She totally broke Mom Commandment #5: Thou Shalt Not Be Such An Overachiever That It Puts Other Mothers To Shame. That one, it's an important one.

Crap.

Now I have just enough time to change and hopefully find something for the garage sale. Because I am sure as hell not showing up with some day-old brownies from Homeland. And I have nothing. Nothing for the garage sale. Well, actually - I have a ton of junk I could donate. What I don't have is the time to go through and dig any of it out. You know, because I was kinda banking on the whole brownie thing...

So as I'm changing I look over and see some of my old purses hanging in the closet. And there are some cute purses...I debate for maybe half a second and then grab them and just go. If I think about it, I may change my mind.

At the meeting we learn that the cheer association has decided that all funds that we raise as a squad will go towards paying for the 5th and 6th grade competitions - because our squad has sought out and secured sponsorship and because those squads aren't interested in finding sponsors or fundraising. And apparently, it's unfair if we work to raise money and don't share. Interestingly, the President of the association is also the 6th grade coach.

You can imagine how I felt about that. I have no problem contributing to a community fund, if everyone is working to contribute. But you're not just gonna sit back, do nothing and reap the benefits of the work our squad has done. Because, you know, it was SO hard to grab those purses...But it's the principle - that's wrong.  And when I think something is wrong, I just can't let it go.

So I didn't. And I ended up walking away as the President of our newly formed parents association. I'm not sure how that happened. I tried to respectfully decline several times. Because sometimes people confuse loudness with leadership. Yes, I'm vocal and opinionated but it by no means makes me a leader. It just makes me...loud and opinionated.

And don't think for a second that the irony of the "disengaged" Mom end up "leading" the association was lost on me. People, I was the one that was going to buy brownies, remember???

I give it two weeks before they change their minds. In the meantime, I've got to get to work on my baking skills. Mom Commandment #6: When Another Mother Puts Ye To Shame, Thou Shall Work Thou Ass Off To Get Better.

Wildcard Weekend

I'm such a brat.

We're off for our annual friends weekend at the casino. I know it will be super fun but I am worn out and just feel like vegging around today. Can't I just stay in my pjs and watch Law & Order all day? And I totally could- I love Law & Order. The older ones especially- SVU and Criminal Intent are okay. I mean, I would still watch them but they're not as good.

See, here the hubby's trying to wisk me away for a weekend of fun and I'm just ungrateful and blah.

What a brat.

 I'm sure by the time we get there and I've downed my daily consumption of caffeine I'll be ready to go and into it.

We always go with our two couple friends and then meet up with the boy's business acquaintances- the ridiculously rich ones who will probably never really understand the value of what they have. One of them presented the hubby with a job opportunity.  It would mean a lot of money and a move to Arkansas.

Hubby wasn't interested.  It's not as stable as what we have now and he wasn't interested in moving.  And I think he's at a point that he's not interested in beginning a new career.

Thank goodness because I just can't see myse myself rooting for the Hogs. ..

Back To Life

Just returned from conference.  It's always great to learn new things, get re-motivated and spend time around some of my favorite people. It's weird - when I'm at conference it almost seems like reality is suspended, like I'm in a totally different world. I think because there's just one focus - conference.  For how many ever days, that's all there is to really think about and do. Not that I don't think about my family too, because I always do.

But it's just different. I'm removed from everything, there are no distractions and everything outside of conference just kinda waits until I get home. Most times I like this kinda of suspended reality. I enjoy it. But this time it was different - I just wanted to get back home to my life. Back to my family.

I learned a lot though. It was definitely eye opening.  I think sometimes we think we understand and we operate based on what we believe to be true.  Then, when we learn how wrong we are it can be shocking.  Humiliating. How did I get it so wrong?

Talk about feeling stupid.

But better to know.  At least once you learn what you need to learn you have that as some sort of...solace. Okay, my bad for being a stupid, ignorant fool but now I know better and I won't make the mistake again. There's some comfort in that, right?

So yeah, I was ready to come home.  Of course, it took me forever to actually get home. But I finally made it and I'm taking today to just enjoy being home, spending time with the people I love.

Tomorrow I will got to work and channel the enthusiasm and motivation from conference into being a better professional, a stronger Director and more passionate advocate. But for today, I'm simply a mother who is spending the day grateful to be surrounded by my loves.

Radio Head

I flipped on the radio yesterday, half listening to the music, thinking about the day and all the things I need to do tomorrow when the dj came on and I had a sudden flash of déjà vu.  Not from something particular he said, just the voice because it’s one I used to know well.

I was at a friend’s apartment, hanging out and killing time. Because that’s what you do when you’re young. And I don’t remember if we actually had the radio on or what…but one of the radio stations used to have some kind of program where you could call in and there was a psychic or horoscope…I can’t remember which.  I think it was horoscope because I really used to be into that. Not like the this is what will happen to you today kind of horoscopes, but zodiac signs. And it isn’t like I believed “in” it but I found it interesting and sometimes surprisingly accurate.  And I’m a Libra and yep, I pretty much fit the description.

I go to her bedroom, sprawl out on her bed and call in to the radio station. Now, I’m a naturally lucky person but I’m really lucky when it comes to the radio.  So I wasn’t shocked when my call actually went through. So the dj answers and I blurt out something like “I’m born in October, I’m a Libra!” or something like that. I just remember that I just jumped right in, like I always do. No hello or anything – just bam!

And there was this long pause. Super long. Just dead silence. So I thought maybe he didn't hear me. So I said it again. And there was another pause. This one not so long. Followed by a laugh as he tells me I called the wrong radio station. That program was on the OTHER station, their competition.

I don’t remember what I said but I know I laughed because who makes that kind of mistake? Plus it’s my default setting. Embarrassed? Laugh. Nervous? Laugh. Happy? Laugh. Frustrated? Scowl, cuss and then laugh.

And then the conversation just continued.  He put me hold when he went on air but we talked for at least three hours. I don’t even know what about. Anything and everything. And we kept talking. Every single night for the next couple of weeks. It was the coolest thing -  he stopped putting me on hold and would tell me to hold on real quick, and then I would hear him say something – live into his mic - and then right back to the conversation like no big deal.  I was SO tempted to make a sound, to say something while he was live, just because I knew I couldn't.

So we talked for over a month before we decided to meet. We had these very deep, very philosophical and very interesting conversations. It was so strange because we had this relationship. Not necessarily romantic – because I can’t really say it was – but we had some kind of connection, even though we had never met. So he asked me out to dinner and I accepted.

The thing is, knowing someone before you meet them is hard. Really hard. Because you kind of make them up in your head. And then may or may not be disappointed when you do actually meet them. And I was – there was zero chemistry. None. No attraction whatsoever.  And I realized he felt the same the moment he whipped out an old photo album (remember when we used to actually print pictures?) and showed me his ex-girlfriend. The 6 foot tall, pencil thin, blonde ex-girlfriend.  And if there is anything a guy can do to tell you he’s not attracted to you, it’s to tell you he is attracted to someone that is the exact opposite of you.

And it quickly fizzled out after that. Years later I ran into him at a bar – he was doing some promotional work for the station. He actually remembered me, which surprised me – in a good way. It also confirmed no chemistry and how important chemistry really is…

From The Mouths Of Babes

I took M2 shopping with me tonight.

Yes, an actual night off cheer. Not on off night for cheer but an off night for me - hubby filled in. That was really nice because I've been doing it on my own. Which is partly why I am so bummed by the increase in practice days - because I've been (and will be for a while) playing the part of married single Mom. Not that he isn't willing to help, but he's been busy with a new house. And it's a doozie.

Normally, I try not to see them before they are renovated. Or at least in some stage of renovation. Because it just kinda stresses me out. Even though I really don't have to do anything, just seeing how much work needs to be done scares me.  Take a look at this and you'll totally understand what I mean.

It needs a little TLC but it's not too bad, right?
But wait - there's more!

And that is by no means the worse house we've bought. In fact, on a scale of 1-10 of bad shape homes it's probably about a 6. And that's because it's sagging in the middle. Because who doesn't like a house that's caving in?

So we've both figured out that it works best if I just don't see them. And honestly, the whole investment property business is really his thing - I just kind of show up when I need to. Literally. At the closing I was just signing documents without even reading them. Not because I don't care but because he handles all that - he negotiates closing cost, fees and reviews everything and I know he's got us covered.  We've worked with the same realtor and lender for years so they're used to us and know how we operate but there was a new person at this last closing and she was visibly shocked to discover that I had never even seen the house. But trust me, if I saw them before they were bought, we probably wouldn't be buying them at all.

So husband offered to do cheer duty tonight and there was no way I was passing that up. I used the time do a little shopping with M2. As I'm taking off my clothes she says "Those are pretty Mom." - referring to my undergarments.  And just as I'm thinking awww, how sweet, she looks me up and down and says, really kinda sassy-like, complete with head bob "Girl, you need to go on a diet."

Yes. From my 5 year old.

Now, I'm certain, from the way she said it, that she was simply mimicking something she heard. Because she doesn't normally address me as "girl". Or tell me to diet.

So I said, "A diet? Why would I go on a diet?"  And really, that was my mistake because you should never, ever ask a question you don't really want answered.

"Because you're fat!"

Thank you child, for shredding every bit of my self esteem.

But of course, I'm shaping young minds here so I responded with "I'm not fat!  I love my body!" Which is mostly true.  Okay, "love" may be a little strong but...I don't hate it.

"Cause your belly-it's big!"

And with that, the clothes went back on and I promptly ended that little shopping trip.

Cheer Not

Let me preface this by saying that if you haven't already discovered that I'm critical and judgmental then this must be your first time reading my blog.  And if you're returning then I'm gonna make the assumption that you simply choose to ignore and/or forgive that little fact. And that you'll also be  prepared for the judginess I have going on below...

I am cheered out.

I spend cheer practices walking around the track.  The other moms sit in clusters and chat but I've never joined them. I know it makes me look snobby or unfriendly or antisocial but I don't care - I have no interest in any of that. Partly because I'm just not interested in making new friends.  I know that sounds bad, but I'm not. My life is full of people that I adore and value and I don't have enough time (or energy, really) to add any more.  My friendship cup is full.

So yeah, I get it doesn't have to be deep. We're talking cheer mom chats, not life-long confidants, right?  But that's the other part - I'm just not into that whole "cheer mom" mentality. In fact, it wears me out. The other day I made a classic mistake. This month all the squads wore pink bows in support of breast cancer awareness so during half-time I casually leaned over and asked one of the moms (who had made bows for us before) if she made the pink bows. I was really just making small talk. I thought she would say yes, I would tell her they looked great and that would be that.

No.

As soon as I asked, she pounced.  She immediately slid up two rows, sat right next to me and exclaimed NO! She didn't make those bows, those bows were horrible. She was embarrassed to wear them, blah, blah, blah, blah... And she kept looking at me all expectantly - waiting to see my outrage over the bad bows. Which looked identical to the bows she has made, by the way.   And the entire tirade was because some other mom made the bows. Yep, she was bent out of shape because another woman had the audacity to cut some ribbon and use a glue gun. When she said "I'm the bow maker of this squad!" I knew I was done. For good. 

I'm telling you - cheer moms are not like other sport moms. I get being into your kids activities, but this is a whole new level. I'm talking moms shelling out almost $50 for a "Cheer Mom" jacket...and it's 4th grade cheer! It just reeks of women desperate to find their identities through their kids. Hey, hey! Look at me!  I'm a CHEER MOM! Good for you, you gave birth and paid a fee to have your kid memorize a chant and jump around during touchdowns. Hooray for you!

And this is horrible but I also find one of the coaches extremely annoying too.  Every time I walk by and hear her squeaky little voice I say a little thank you that she isn't our coach. I may inadvertently roll my eyes too. The voice, the prancing, the bobbing ponytail - it's all too much. I mean, she's the kind of woman that wears bows in her hair - and not just to cheer practice. And I'm certain she has stuffed animals on her bed too.

Our coach, however, rocks. She is the total opposite -she's hardcore and intense and very serious. But she also thinks cheerleading is all that matters.  We started out with two practices a week - like all the other squads. We're giving up two nights a week and every Saturday, but that's part of it. We're committed to the team. Let's do this!  

Then she added an extra 45 minutes to each practice. Okay, so now practice is ending when M usually goes to bed. So now it's rush home, get fed and off to bed.  Oh, and homework. Somewhere in there we have to do that. But still…it’s doable. Gooo cheerleaders!   

Then she upped practice to three days a week.  An extra day of cheer? Okay, so things are going to get really crazy. How are we going to fit all this in? We can manage this. I think. Go team. 

Then last week we got informed that we were going to practice FOUR nights a week. FOUR NIGHTS A WEEK? For cheerleading!! Are you freakin kidding me? @*#% 


And I'm sorry if I sound bitter but I am.  I totally am. Because this throws our whole life into chaos. I mean, I know it's only an extra day but it's like slowly cheerleading has consumed our entire life. And the thought of not getting home until after 8 four days a week is exhausting.

Our coach is a SAHM and I don't think there was any consideration given to working Moms.  It's totally different for her, she can get all her stuff done during the day. Of course it doesn't matter to her that we're in practice all night. But I go from work to practice.  When am I suppose to find time to cook? Or help M with her homework? Or get anything done? This isn't what I signed up for!

Trust me, if I would have been told at the beginning it was 2 hours a night, 4 nights a week we would not have a cheerleader right now.  And now the squad is competing. What?! We didn't sign her up for a competitive cheer league - that was intentional. Because guess what?  That means more time and more money but mostly more time.

So yeah, I'm cheered out. And it's really unfortunate too because M is having the time of her life; she absolutely loves being on this squad.  Which means we'll probably be doing it again next year...

Selfie taken during practice. Can't see anything? Maybe because IT'S PITCH BLACK OUTSIDE.

Lights from the field. The girls are out there cheering. IN THE DARK.

Ugly: Front & Center

Ever have conversations where something that was said stays with you - like you just zone in on that one little piece? And you keep thinking about it - like nothing else in the conversation mattered. Which, obviously it does - but you're just...stuck. Hyper-focused on that one thing.  And for me, it's usually because I have questions that I don't ask. 

So I'm stuck. Stuck on a bit of conversation from this weekend "You're the kind of girl that a guy doesn't realize he'll miss until after the fact" That's kinda the equivalent of being told you're like the comfy sweats that get thrown out and then one day, after too much mexican food and beer, you think man, I wish I had those sweats! And I wanted to ask “Well, why wouldn't you realize that before?” I mean, do you have to dump me in order to realize I'm kinda a good thing? But the conversation moved forward and the moment had passed so I didn't ask. And I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

When our preacher talks about relationships, he always says “Women marry thinking the guy will change and men marry thinking the woman will never change.” And according to him, neither is true.  Personally, I don’t agree. For the most part, in all my relationships I’ve always taken the guys at face value.  It’s almost like a book – it’s interesting to discover who they are and whether I like everything or not, it’s part of the story. 

And I think that’s always been the problem with me too – I just expect people to want to take me as I am from the very beginning, without having to dress myself up. I’m not trying to hide my disappointments or frustrations until after I get you hooked, because then we both end up feeling screwed.  With the exception of my first real boyfriend, who I tried desperately to accommodate – yes, that’s cool with me (when it wasn't). No, I don’t mind (when I did). Anything you want (when I didn't). 

So yeah, I seemed demanding and high maintenance and...I don't know what else.  But at least you got to see the ugly up front. 

Weekend Win

*Not sure what happened - my post from yesterday and Monday didn't actually post. Here's Monday's little jewel.

Fun Sooner weekend!

I realized Friday that every trip out of town should begin with a golf tournament.  Because I'm neurotic, I can't go out of town without a clean house. My house is usually* (because periodically does count as usually, right?) picked up - as in I don't leave crap just laying around everywhere. Unless you count baskets of laundry as "crap". Then yeah, I leave crap laying around everywhere.

But there's a difference between picked up and clean. And I can't leave without it being clean. Thanks Mom, I totally blame you. Because if God forbid, something should happen to me the first thing everyone will ask is "Was her house clean?" And the thought that the answer might be no...It plagues me.

So Friday the hubby went off to play one of his annual golf tournaments and I cleaned the house. It was perfect. 

It also meant that I had to drive to Texas for the OU game. Because this:

Golf = beer

So we get to Texas, meet up with a friend, have a fantastic dinner at a stir-fry restaurant I've never tried before and spend the rest of the night talking. So it was about 11 when we finally checked in to our hotel. Actually, husband checked in and I went to go get ice cream. Because what do you do when you haven't had any regular exercise and you've gained 10 pounds - get ice cream! Seems reasonable to me.

As I'm navigating the annoying one-way streets and no u-turns on my quest for calories, husband calls and says "Good news. Our room has a whirlpool tub." And I'm like Awesome! because I never see the next part coming. And then he says "Bad news is that it's disgusting." That was an understatement. 

Disgusting? Disgusting doesn't even come close.

See that black stuff? That would be mold

As soon as I see it I go to the front desk. Because surely they're going to be reasonable and want to fix this, right? The very first thing he did, as soon as I explained the problem and showed him the pictures, was make a phone call and speak to someone in a language I don't know. Then he asked me to take a seat and wait. That should have been my first clue.

So after a bit and man and woman come in, and without an apology or even acknowledging the room was gross they begrudgingly offer another room - the only room they have left. Probably the only room left in Texas. And they're full of attitude, almost like they were put out that I had the audacity to ask for a clean tub.  And the thing was, I was nice. I really, really was because I'm not stupid...it's OU/Texas. I have no leverage. Do you know how hard it would be to find another room? We'd end up sleeping in the car.

And before the woman even took me to the other room I told them both, I don’t need another room – if someone could just come clean the tub. That got no response. Which shouldn’t have shocked me because obviously they weren't too fond of cleaning.  Room #2 had a strong odor of Pine Sol so I was hopeful but that tub wasn't clean either. Not as gross but not clean. And I guess they thought I was stupid because they didn't realize I would notice that the shower was wet – I’m pretty sure once they got the call they scrambled to throw some cleaner around before bringing me up. And since the room was smaller, had two double beds instead of a king, and was also dirty – I told her thanks but no thanks; we would keep the original room. 

Almost immediately after I got back there was a knock at the door. The man was standing there and he asked me if we were moving rooms. I said no, that room wasn’t clean either and we would just stay where we were. Then he says “I don’t need complaints tomorrow. I’ll refund your room and you can find somewhere else.” Now, I can’t be positive, but I’m fairly certain that was a thinly veiled threat to shut up. And I got that message loud and clear. Recognizing it was now midnight and the night before the game, I smiled as sweetly as I could and thanked him for all his assistance and told him we would like to stay. Again, not real fond of sleeping in cars.

The next morning it was off to the game! I cannot express to you what an awesome experience Red River is...walking through the fair in a sea of red (and occasionally ugly burnt orange) and there’s this energy and excitement. Everyone is pumped about the game. Everyone.  Then, the walk through the stadium. It’s incredible, masses of people yelling “Boomer!” and then “Sooner!” and every so often “Texas!” and then “Sucks!” And when you step out into the stadium, watch it fill up with red and orange. Even if you’re only a half-way fan, it’s hard not to get excited. Just an amazingly fun time.

The other two times we’ve gone we lost and a Red River loss is so much harder than any other game. Because really, it’s like a regular football game on steroids, everything is so much more extreme and intense. I will never forget the first time we went, walking out of the stadium and all these Texas fans were waiting outside our side of the stadium yelling really rude, insulting things as we walked by.  It was the ultimate walk of shame. 

This year there was very little smack talk after the game. I would like to say it was because we have a more dignified fan base but in reality I think it’s because no one really felt great about that win. Don’t get me wrong – I was ecstatic but can I gloat about it? No way. We didn’t play great. In fact, our offense looked horrible. If it weren’t for our defense and special teams we would have lost. And if you look at the stats – we should have. They had more 1^st downs, more passing yards, more rushing yards – over double what we had. They also had more penalties. Which was a huge contributor.  Not the only contributor, but it certainly helped.

But I’m not complaining – I will take the win!  But I was kinda hoping that when we won, because I was sure we were going to, that we would blow them away. Or have a game like TCU/Baylor. Now that was a game! But really, I’m just happy to have a win on the books.

Oh! And I saw Kenny Stills! I was going to get a picture with him but he had taken several already and he looked done.  I waited a few minutes then decided I didn’t want to be that person. I should have at least taken a picture of him, but I didn't think about it. But thought it was cool that he was there. And he's a lot tinier in person than I thought he was...I'm mean, he's not tiny but just not as big as I thought.

We went to eat at the Gas Monkey Bar & Grill afterwards because hubby and kids are huge fans of the show. It was really, really good. It may have been because I was starving – the only thing I had to eat was a stadium hotdog that cost more than my pulled-pork sandwich from the restaurant.  And they have fun drinks/beer that come in a souvenir cup, so that’s a bonus. We’ll definitely go back.

We got up the next morning to head home. Of course, what what trip to Texas would be complete without a stop at the Dairy Queen? Which, technically, they've come back to Oklahoma...but still, you gotta stop. 

Overall, it was a great weekend - got some friend time, had some good food and my Sooners won!

Our drinks came height proportioned...

Who said being short was bad?
How many people can fully stretch out on road trips?

Birthday Love - The Celebrations Continue

So I know it's over, but I have to say this has been the birthday that has kept on giving...

Monday I ran to the mailroom and what did I discover? I birthday surprise from a dear friend. Tuesday, there was a package waiting for me with yet another surprise. And then yesterday, at our staff meeting, everyone surprised me with a cake and card...Have I mentioned how much I love surprises?  It's been aaaawesome!

I can't say it enough - I have some amazing, incredible people in my life. I'm really, really blessed. And kinda amazed - how did I get to be such a lucky, lucky girl?

So it's work today then off tomorrow for Red River!

What a great week!

10-4 Good Buddy

I began and ended this day with a piece of cake.  Because if you're going to celebrate, you might as well celebrate big. Right?

Or maybe that was just my excuse for having two piece of cake in one day.

Either way, I'm wrapping up this birthday weekend happy, happy, happy.  I have the easiest birthday to remember - if you know CB lingo or if you're a fan of Smokey and the Bandit - all you have to do is remember "10-4 good buddy!"

This year, 10-4 fell on a Saturday, which automatically makes the birthday better. And gave me the excuse to claim the entire weekend for birthday festivities.

My BF jump-started things by bestowing me my very first birthday present.  Such a perfect gift.  I made a comment about something a few months ago and she remembered.  That always amazes me. And touches me. I don't know, it just says a lot when people pay attention to the things you say. That's how you know someone loves you - when they remember things and you don't even have to ask them to.

Then I got one of the nicest birthday texts, actually one of the nicest texts I've ever gotten, from a friend.  It was completely unexpected. It's always great to know people think kind things about you but more than that - it was just touching to be thought of and it really made my birthday special.

So I fell asleep on my last day of 37 feeling loved and extremely grateful for the wonderful people in my life. And just in case you didn't know, that's a great way to end a year.

Didn't have any big plans for Saturday. Our birthday celebrations are usually pretty low-key - dinner, family celebration - standard stuff. I don't plan my own birthdays - just not my thing.  That duty falls to my husband. He usually asks me what I want to do or will at least talk to me about it so if there is something specific I want to do, we do it. But for the most part, I'm easy.

This year we had no conversations about birthday plans.  He did ask me last week what I wanted for my birthday, which I found highly suspect because my husband's a planner, he wouldn't wait until the week before to ask me about a present. So I knew he already had something and was trying to throw me off.  He forgets sometimes that I know him.

Saturday morning someone planted the seed of bacon. It's Fat Girl Code 101 - the slightest mention of bacon and it's in our head. And once you've got bacon on the brain, it's over...So I made a bacon birthday breakfast. I did have a few other things in addition to the bacon. But none of them warrants recognition because....it's bacon.

So my entire family gathered at my Mom's house. Where we watched the Sooners get beat. The only blemish to my weekend. Ugh, what a disappointment. The game, however, was amazing. I love, love, love games like that. Well, actually, I love games like that. I only love, love, love them when my team pulls out the win. But when or lose, you gotta appreciate a good football game.

After the game we did the whole cake/presents thing.

When I pulled out a card from my husband, the "gift" inside was a folded up paper.  Immediately, I knew. I knew exactly that it was! So I unfold it and...wait. What is this? Then I quickly scanned the paper and it dawned on me - it was what I thought it was! Tickets to Red River!

Kinda.

It was a hotel stay during Red River. My fiscally responsible husband was still price shopping and didn't actually have game tickets yet because he was convinced they would go down. I'm glad he had the foresight to wait because prices did drop.  The loss to TCU might have helped...

He got tickets today so it's official - Red River Rivalry 2014, here we come!

So it really seems 38 is starting off right - think I kinda like it!

The Hunt Is On

So this whole Frozen obsession has gone a little far, don't you think? 

My girls have decided that's what they want to be for Halloween.  That's the only thing they want to be for Halloween. Usually, they have 3 or 4 different things and I have to work to get them to narrow it down to one and work to ensure they keep the same one for more than one day. I'm serious - you better decide. Once I buy the costume, that's it - you can't change your mind anymore.

Not this year. Nope, this year it's done. Decided. Final. It was final back in like April. And we've been talking about it since then too. Kinda Frozen obsessed.

And I had no problems with the costume selection. Actually thought it was kinda perfect - one blonde, one brunette - about the right age difference. Cute, cute, cute.

But then I discovered that there were 1.4 million other little girls that also wanted to be the Frozen girls for Halloween. Oh. Wait. I got that number wrong. Yeah, since we've entered October that number has climbed. We're now at 2.9 million.

And wouldn't you know, that means that everyone is out of Frozen costumes. It's like the year PillowPets came out. That was the very first year that M actually asked for something for Christmas. She wanted a pillow so bad. But guess what? So did everyone else. I could not find her a pillow to save my life. Actually, that's not true. I could find her a pillow. On Ebay. Some blood-sucking money-hungry jerks had bought up all the PillowPets and were selling them on Ebay for hundreds of dollars. Hundreds. That's how we ended up with the most expensive pillow I have ever owned. A pillow I have never used. We didn't pay hundreds for it - only like...uh....$80. Gaw, that's embarrassing to admit. And that was only because we had to get her the rabbit, instead of the unicorn. Apparently, no one wanted the rabbit. Thank goodness.

So the same thing is happening here.  There is a shortage of supply and an outrageous demand. Dang, Disney - did you not realize this little movie was going to blow up?

I went during lunch today. And yeah, that means no workout. I made my goal for last week and none for this week. Seriously.  But I digress....

So I found one for M2 but still no luck for M. So I look online when I get home. Nothing - they are all sold out. Unless I want to order from some shady internet company with multiple and obvious typos on their webpage. Somehow I just picture two teenage boys with bad acne sitting at a computer laughing at all the parents stupid enough to enter in their credit card information on the site they created after school.

So I decide to go hit some more stores. So I'm chatting on the phone with a friend while I'm driving, telling her about the craptastic week I've had - and that's a whole other post. But a post I probably won't ever do because I've been whining too much this week already -   and when I tell her what I'm doing, we decide to meet up to shop together. And the first thing I said, the very first thing, was "Okay, but I look rough."

So then why, why, when she saw me did she do a double-take and exclaim "Man! You're bummed out!" Uhhhh, yeeeeaaaaahhhh - it's called looking rough. And you had fair warning. What is it with people not believing me?  When I say I look rough, it's because I look rough!

We hit another 4 stores with no luck.

So that's my mission right now -Operation Halloween Quest is in full force. If you happen to be out and find an Elsa costume in size Large (10/12) snatch it up for me. Seriously. In the parentworld, those things are like gold!

Love Story

Every girl should have at least one good love story. If you're really lucky, you'll have more than one. But you need at least one.  At least one time when you felt like the most special girl on earth. Felt it, believed it, knew it was true.

I'm one of the lucky ones.

But it's funny. Love stories, real love stories, are nothing like the Hollywood movies. They're complicated and confusing and sometimes messy. At least this one was.

He worked in the Athletic Department, next to Lingerie - which was my area. I know, what a weird combination, right?  I guess they thought men would browse wind pants while their wives tried on bras...It was always a little bit embarrassing to be laying out panties next to a rack where a bunch of guys would be shopping. I felt like we should have been tucked away in some discrete corner somewhere.

We had never spoken.  Then one day, he approached me.  He thought we lived in the same apartment complex - he was pretty sure he had seen me driving in and out. Somehow in that conversation we exchanged numbers. But not like what you would think. He had a girlfriend - the super thin, busty, very pretty brunette in Shoes. And I had a crush on a guy in Security.  Plus he was old. Well, I was 18, he was 25 so he seemed old. And he had this full beard, which made him seem even older.

I think that's why I gave him my number. There was zero attraction. It felt safe.

I don't remember the first time he called or why, but we talked about the differences in our apartments (he had a one bedroom, I had a two) and tried to figure out where the other was located.  I had a cordless phone and I walked to the park area right in the center while we were talking and then I turned around and he was there. My roommate and some of our friends were getting ready to go eat so I thought I would show him the two bedroom and that would be that. 

Except he didn't leave. He sat down on the couch, acted like he was a friend and started talking to everyone. I kept hinting around and waiting for him to feel awkward enough to leave. But nothin. Frustrated, I went to my bedroom to change.  I was thinking of what I would say to get rid of him, while secretly hoping he would be gone when I got out.

Instead, I walked out to discover someone had invited him to go eat with us! Great. Instead of hanging out with my friends, now I have to make small talk with some random guy I don't care to know.  I was put-out. So when we got to the restaurant, I purposely sat on the opposite end of the table - as far from him as possible.  I didn't invite him, I wasn't talking to him. After dinner, everyone went in different directions and since we lived in the same complex, guess who got to take him home?

We talked on the way- mostly about his girlfriend and a little about work. He was kinda weird, but nice.

I dropped him off and he asked if I wanted to see the one bedroom apartment. I didn't have anything better to do so I walked upstairs with him, stood awkwardly by the front door while he introduced his cat and was about to leave when he said really, really sternly "Don't ever do that." I was so confused until he continued on "Do you know what could've happened to you? Coming up here alone? What I could have done and no one would have even known where you were. Don't ever go to a strange guy's apartment alone. Ever."

It kinda shook me.  I hadn't really thought about anything bad happening to me. Hadn't thought about it at all. The thought he might hurt me? Never even crossed my mind. I had been out of my parents house for less than 3 months and was enjoying being "grown". It shocked me to realize how vulnerable I was, how stupid I had been.

We began chatting at work. Then chatting more and more. His girlfriend would come up occasionally and we would say hi. They got engaged about a month after we met and came by to show me the ring.  A few times the three of us tried to get together but something would come up and she would cancel - so it ended up being me and him. And we started to spend a lot of time together.  We became very close, very fast.

I'm not sure what she thought about that. I didn't have improper intentions and I would like to think she knew that. I suspect this beautiful girl with the perfect body wasn't really threatened by some short, dumpy, socially awkward girl. And she shouldn't have been.

Then, about 3 weeks after they were engaged the two of us were laying on my living room floor listening to Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon. I hadn't really listened to Pink Floyd before - like really listened to it. My parents had listened when I was younger but I had really tuned it out and kinda ignored it. He was reintroducing me to it and I was thinking how beautiful this song was when I glance over and...he's crying. Crying.

I'd never really seen a guy cry before and I had no clue what was wrong or what to do. I was horrified. So I hesitantly asked what was wrong.  And he looked at me and said very slowly "I think I love you."

I felt like I had been hit over the head. What? Love me? Huh? The world felt like it was crashing in.

I don't think I said anything for at least two minutes. I was shocked. And upset. And didn't know what to think. I was sitting there with so many things running through my head. But mostly I was just sad because I knew what that meant.  Finally I said, "I can't be your friend if you have feelings for me."  and after a while he said "I know." And then we turned our conversation to ending our friendship. It sounds very strange but it gave us something to focus on, took the heaviness away.

We both had off that Friday.  Another contributing factor to our developing friendship - we happened to work almost the same exact schedule every week. So Friday we were going to spend the day hanging out and then part ways. And that's exactly what we did.

I didn't get sad until we said goodbye. I realized he had become my best friend.  It made me sad, too sad. And disgusted with myself because I realized that it meant I had feelings for him . It was so much to process - guilt, confusion, sadness.  All rolled up in a nice little jacked-up ball.

I didn't realize how much I cared about him until I lost him - it kinda caught me off guard. Two weeks passed without any contact and it seemed like those two weeks were so long. But life has a tremendous way of moving along, even when you do feel like you don't want to, and I was adjusting and feeling better.

Then a knock on my door. I opened it up and he's standing there, with this look on his face like he's scared and excited at that same time and he says "I just broke off my engagement, I want to be with you."

My heart leaped. It was such an extreme gesture, such a huge declaration of love. You're giving her up for me? But I was nervous too. So I said "I think you're just scared about getting married." and he grabbed me by the arms and said "No, I've thought about it every day. I can't marry her feeling the way I feel about you."

I know what you're thinking - it's horrible. And I can't argue with you - it was a horrible situation and a horrible thing for me to do.  But that moment was so real and so....raw that  - and it sounds so cliche but - it really was beautiful.  I just don't think you get very many moments in life that someone will really bare themselves to you - just lay themselves out like that.

You can probably guess that the ending wasn't as great as the beginning. But I'm grateful for the moment. Because I really did feel like the most special girl in the world - I believed it and knew it was true.