I Got Lost

Yay! I finally found my way back to the blog world! Somewhere between Working Street and Family Avenue I lost my way and took a wrong turn on Distracted Lane. But I'm here now so let's get caught up, shall we?

*blows dust off keyboard

I had two fails today. Two. In one day. That was quite an accomplishment - some people go whole days without one.

The first was actually a gross fail.  I've been working out again. And I use the term "again" loosely, since it's still new and I don't technically have enough history to be throwing around the term "again", since it kinda implies that I've established a dedicated workout pattern.  I have been doing well, but it's too early in the game to declare dedication.  I'm doing the video again - you know, the P90 one.  Before you get impressed, let me remind you that this is actually the cheap date version of the real video, P90X.

I've also decided to use my lunch hour to go to the gym and walk. This is huge for me because it's easy for me to get caught up and skip lunch all together. Well, the lunch hour. I still eat, I just do it over my keyboard while I'm working. So I'm trying really hard to actually make a lunch date with myself and get over there. Today, as I was changing into my gym clothes I realized I had no socks. Fail #1. It was either go without socks or don't go. I decided to go.  The first 15 minutes were okay but by the end...well, it was just gross. Guess who plans on taking an extra set of socks tomorrow for emergencies?

Then later in the afternoon I got a phone call that went terribly, horribly wrong. Our phone system has caller ID and someone that is employed with the same agency as my husband called our office.  Not only did the agency name pop up on the screen, but the prefix was the same so I initially thought the call was coming from him.  The person on the other end, however, had a heavy accent and didn't wish to speak with me.  I'll spare you the gory details but let's just say that someone is a big practical joker so someone else thought they were being set up.  That second someone realized too late that it was in fact, a real call. A real call NOT from her husband. Fail #2.

The good thing about these fails though is that I am guaranteed to have socks for tomorrow and I can be confident that every phone conversation I have this week will be better than the one today. So hooray for me for getting that stuff out of the way.

Hooray also for considerate, thoughtful friends - especially the kind that read my blog and care enough about my little ramblings to provide the opportunity to do something I had never done before. Like shoot a gun. That's right folks, not only did I hold a gun, I actually shot it. A few times.  And a few of those times I think I may have actually managed to not shut my eyes when I pulled the trigger.

And if that weren't exciting enough, I also got this:

So thank you Rob and Nicole for the experience, the great conversation and the chocolate. Because really, what more could a girl want?
 

Kiss Of Death

I have an old friend, we've known each other for...17 years. Really, 17 years? Wow. I am officially OLD.

We aren't particularly close, but we've remained in contact and I had a chance to catch up with him the other day and it reminded me of a particularly embarrassing event. Old friends are good for things like that.

We met through a mutual friend and shortly after he expressed interest in me. I wasn't feeling the vibe so I categorically put him in the friend zone. We ran in the same circles, hung out at the same places and we saw each other quite a bit. Then one day I was driving down the road, listening to the radio and a song came on that reminded me of my ex boyfriend and what a bad relationship it had been. And it hit me.  This guy likes me. This guy is a good guy. This guy would treat me right.

So I called him, I think I asked him out on a date...not sure, but he wasn't into me. I think he had met someone, or was trying to meet someone. And life continued.  And I'm not sure how much time passed when the subject of us dating came up again - this time his request. But by then, I wasn't into him anymore. And the cycle continued. One of us would be interested and the other wouldn't be. The timing was just never, ever right. And it's funny because it wasn't like we ever got offended or upset - we remained friends that entire time. You would have never even known we discussed dating. Except for this one time...

Which is the embarrassing part.

We frequented a lot of the same places so it wasn't uncommon to randomly see him out on the weekend. On this fateful Saturday night,  I was with a girlfriend encouraging her obsession with the singer of a local band. While she was busy stalking, I went to get a drink and I ran into my friend. We visited, I went to say hello to the rest of his group and all was well. Until about 3 hours and a few drinks later.

I'm not really sure about the events leading up to this. Not from the drinks but because I've packed quite a few things into my life during the years since. All I know is that for some reason, in that instant, I decided that he should like me. And I couldn't, for the life of me, understand how he couldn't. In fact, at that moment I couldn't understand how he could ever possibly resist me.

The cloudy  memory of that night was not due to drinking but the bravery of that night can 100% be attributed to alcohol.

So I kissed him. Walked right up to him out of nowhere and kissed him. Like a real, full-out, give-it-everything-I've-got kiss.  He didn't push me away. But I didn't rock his world either.  I don't know what exactly I was expecting but I know I thought he should have found that experience spectacular.

And when he didn't? Well, I got mad. Really mad. Never mind that the kiss came out of nowhere and caught him off guard, never mind that there was another girl there that he was interested in.  Nope, none of that seemed to even resonate with me. See, I had the misfortune of too much alcohol and not enough good judgement. Which is a very dangerous, and sometime hilarius, combination. It was just enough for me to decide to confront him.

I'm not sure what all I yelled but I remember something to the effect of "You know that was an awesome kiss!" or something equally humiliating. 

Yes. I was that girl.  Lord, forgive me because in that instant, that night - I was totally her.

So I will always maintain this friendship, however casual, just to keep this embarrassing story buried deep, deep in history. Where it belongs.

Sunday Funday Booty Call

After church on Sunday I got a random “Hey, how are you?” text. Random texts are always nice, but I wasn’t sure how to respond since I had no clue who it was. I got a new phone in November but it was an emergency replacement. My old phone underwent some serious trauma and I wasn’t able to revive her. She was just…gone. Along with most my contacts.

The response I got back was “James, from behind Burger King.”

This made me laugh out loud because the first thing that came to my mind was a tawdry tryst behind a fast food place. My friends know that’s my sense of humor so I almost thought it was someone messing with me and I almost responded back with something equally funny.

But I wasn’t sure. So I went safe with “I think you have the wrong number.”

And the dude said “I found this number in my jacket pocket from a year ago and I was just hoping you were free today.”

I don’t know what was sadder – having to tell him it was the wrong number or the fact that he was trying to hook back up with someone he hadn’t talked to in a year…

Super Mean

Ugh, I can't stand rude people! I just don't get why someone would feel compelled to be intentionally, deliberately rude. Like what's the point?

I encountered one of those people the other day. Here's part of the exchange between me and an IT guy when I requested a weekly report of my student's add/drop activity:

Mean, Hateful IT Guy: Weekly? What does that mean, "weekly"? Do you want Monday through Friday? Saturday through Sunday? I don’t understand what you mean by "weekly". *The guy was acting like no one had ever asked him for weekly data before. What's so hard to understand that I want a report every week? He was totally playing dumb - a pet peeve of mine. Why not just ask me what days I want the report to run from? Oh wait, because that may not have sounded so rude.

Me:  Yes, Saturday through Sunday would work.

MHIG: Oh, so you work on the weekend? *This wasn't really a question, just a sarcastic statement.

Me: No, I won’t get the report until Monday.

MHIG: So you want Saturday to Monday, then? *He said this triumphantly, like he had just proven something. I'm not sure what but he seemed very pleased about it.

Me:  You're the one that suggested Saturday through Sunday...It's fine to do it Saturday through Monday - I just want to see their activity on a weekly basis.

MHIG: Well it's your report, I don't know when you need it.

Me: *Is he really talking to me like this? For real? I think we need to start over. Have I offended you in some way?

MHIG: No

Me: Well you’ve been very condescending throughout this entire conversation.

MHIG: Oh, that’s just me. Laughing like it was somehow cute.

WHAT? That’s just you?

Ooooh, okay then, I understand. Yeah, that completely absolves you from taking any kind of responsibility for how you treat people. Sorry, I didn’t realize – go ahead and talk down to me, I get it now. I mean, if that's just you, well that makes it all okay.

What a load of crap!

I was so livid, it took everything I had to contain myself and remain professional. I am strongly considering adopting his philosophy that saying it's just me is a free pass  - then I can master the skill of becoming a super bitch.  Of course, I'll only apply this when I have to deal with him.

Stayin Alive

We were dangerously close to having a Mitchell Family disaster this morning.

Hubby headed out really early this morning for a weekend trip so I got up a little early, knowing our routine would be a little off.  We were running a little bit ahead of schedule and I was feeling pretty proud of myself for keeping us on track. As I went in to make lunches, I told M to feed the fish. 

I few minutes later M runs in and tells me that M2 took the lid off and Rosie jumped. WHAT?!  So I walk in the office, scan the empty tank and ask where the fish is. In a panic M tells me that he's in a book.  There is no book. After some confusion, I realize she's talking about a video case.   I check the case - no fish. At this point, I'm in a little panic. 'Where is the fish? Where is HE?' I'm getting a little frantic and the girls are frozen. So I say, maybe not so calmly,  'Help me find him! We need to put him back in the water or he's going to die!'

I may have put a little too much emphasis on the word die.

At that point, M burst into tears and confesses that she took the lid off the tank and then wails that she doesn't want a fish anymore, it's too hard to take care of it. She may have been just a tad bit overwhelmed. 

Maybe it was the fact that I had just highlighted the possibility that she may have killed her pet fish.

I did find Rosie and get him back in the tank.  He swam for a few minutes so I reassured the girls he was fine. I'm hoping that's true. I checked as we were walking out and he wasn't swimming. But he's a lazy fish so I'm not sure if that really means anything....really, really hoping it doesn't. Six might be a little young to start needing therapy.

Valentine

Happy Valentine's Day!

It isn’t such a big deal around our house. Not that I don’t appreciate romance, because really I do. I just appreciate it a whole lot more when it seems sincere. But we do celebrate it – in a mini way.

I always do something special for the girls. That meant a late night run to the store since I had totally neglected to plan this year. And apparently I wasn’t the only one that didn’t plan because about 90% of the male population of our town was there too. Poor guys, they all looked panicked and desperate to find just the right stuffed bear. Pink …or red…or purple? Which one!? WHICH ONE SHOULD I GET?!

And of course, I also grabbed a box of chocolates for the husband. Because I wanted some chocolate.

So this won’t go down as my most creative Valentine’s, that’s for sure. I don’t think anything can beat our very first Valentine’s together. We had only been dating a few months and he planned a special evening out. I couldn’t wait to exchange gifts. He opened mine and didn’t know what to say. After a moment, he looked at me confused and said “Are these for me?” I had gotten him a sequined thong. Not that I ever, ever wanted to see it on him – but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see the look on his face when he opened them. Or when I said, with a completely straight face, “Yeah, I want you to wear them tonight”.

Now that was some Valentine’s panic.

BDKM

It's amazing that time can be absorbed; days so fluid that they run together almost uninterrupted. It becomes difficult to distinguish one day from the other. We roll along, carry on and flow through life, comforted by it's rhythm.

It's equally amazing how time can be suspended.  That one single day can feel like it stretches into eternity; so endless it almost consumes every day before it.  It feels like a million days packed into one.  That day is somehow marked, distinct and significantly different from every other.

Sometimes those two elements collide and create a whirlwind.  That's really how it's felt since my FIL passed away unexpectedly last week.

I can't imagine how it feels to lose a parent. I pray to God that I won't find out for a very, veeeery long time.  I know it's hard. I've watched my husband work through this, helpless to provide any real comfort.  No one can really understand someone else's grief.  It's as unique as a fingerprint; formed from experience and history and the complications of relationships.

My husband grew up in an almost vagabond lifestyle. In extreme poverty, his parents frequently changed jobs. They moved their family every year, sometimes more, into whatever accommodations they could afford (including living in a boxcar).  Most the time, the living room was his "bedroom" - he slept on the couch and his clothes were kept in a basket. He was expected to contribute as soon as he was old enough, which meant beginning odd jobs while he was still in elementary school. 

He reacted to this environment by making it a priority to escape poverty and the struggles that go with it. Every decision in his life has been centered on creating a secure future. Nothing in his life is without thought, planning, or purpose.  One of the reasons I found him so attractive was that he represented to me security and stability - he was strong and solid.

It's such a profoundly different life than his Dad's -  the man who left this world with two fishing poles, a gun and $43 dollars. That's it, that was everything he had. Everything. And that was all he wanted. As long as he could sit on the porch and smoke a cigarette, life was good.

And yet, as different as they were, the most important things my husband learned were taught by his father. To be kind, unselfish, forgiving, patient, and helpful.  To be a good person and live an upright life.

That's something my FIL did well.  Something he taught his son to do well. 

So thank you, BDKM, for teaching your son the important things in life.  You are loved and will be missed but your spirit will be carried forever in those lessons.