You’ll Pay Me Back in Kind and Reap What You Have Sown

I’m sure by now you have realized that the jam-packed birthday shenanigans wouldn’t end there. That would be too easy. Nope. Instead, I woke up the next day to four text messages. The first was from Daisy from 3:44 AM (mercifully, I was sleeping off the evening at that point) telling me that Mr. S was still texting her insults – 3 hours after he started. Next, I had his and her apologies from Zee and Hubby. They were both so sorry for the way the evening turned and what their contributions to the chaos might have been. The fourth was from Mr. S, himself, letting me know that Daisy was a phony friend. I again apologized to Daisy for the drama I was not causing. I let Hubby know that his apology was unnecessary, but sweet and fully accepted. I called Zee and let her know that we were also all good. As for Mr. S, I thanked him for his vigilance, but said that he didn’t have to worry; Daisy and I were all good. And that’s when the s*#t really hit the fan. Mr. S was not down with this response at all. Because, of course, HE was THERE for me last night; HE went to BUCKTOWN; HE left HIS FRIENDS to be there for ME. How dare I give Daisy a free pass? Now, logic will step in and point out that I never said I was going to give Daisy a free pass. I simply said that we were all good. I didn’t say how we reached that point, because frankly, it is none of his business. He presumed that I gave her a free pass. God forbid that perhaps Daisy and I had an adult conversation about it and worked it out. Nope, that would be crazy.

Rather than engage in a text battle, I decided to be a grown up, call Mr. S and talk about the crapfest that was the evening before. Surely, a brief conversation between two friends would sort everything out. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I think I was able to get 2 sentences out before Mr. S went on the attack. In his perception, I was in the wrong. I was not grateful enough for his presence and his sacrifice and I was not mad enough at Daisy. Really, Mr. S was pissed at Daisy for missing his birthday, but since he couldn’t say that, he used me. Tired of being told I was a horrible person, I tried to interject. It got heated and I said that if he felt this way, then I would sever our friendship. Shocked? Me too. A stupid, birthday celebration turned into crazy, uncalled for, over-the-top drama. I called Hubby to tell him about it, almost immediately bursting into tears. I just needed someone else to weigh in on this mess. Mind you, no one else saw it Mr. S’s way, but still I worried that I was in the wrong.  While talking to Hubby, Mr. S, called me and texted me and then called both Zee and Hubby, too. I responded to his text by saying that I was grateful that he was looking out for me and that I didn’t want to fight. He replied that Daisy was phony. What am I supposed to do with that? I didn’t respond. Instead, I took Zee and her Hubby up on their breakfast offer. I was reminded of what it is like to spend time with friends as Zee, Hubby, Meghan and I had breakfast, went shoe shopping and then got pedicures (not Hubby, he parted ways then). It was great. It washed the bad taste of Friday out of my mouth and I relaxed a bit. Of course, at this point Mr. S was freezing me out and giving me the silent treatment. (He punishes by resigning from Word Feud games and posting not so veiled “statuses” on FB). While Zee and her Hubby brought me birthday cupcakes, Mr. S took to FB – talking about how some places just bring out the worst in people and how he is going to avoid those places (and by that he means one place). Apparently to put a point on it, he took one more jab in the faux positive statement of starting a new chapter, because he was done with negative people and places. My only response was to like both statuses, because I did. I agreed wholeheartedly. There should be no place in life for negativity-fueled drama. I quite frankly had enough in 24 hours to last a lifetime.

Thus wraps my birthday 2011. I sang with Paul, celebrated with friends, purged some negativity and came out a bit stronger for it. Looking forward to seeing what else 35 has to offer.

Rolling in the Deep

I'd normally make excuses for my long absence from this forum, but really, sometimes my life just gets in the way of writing. I realized though that I miss this forum, as it seems to be a lifeline of sorts. It is especially missed when my life gets super complicated or painfully stressful. (Which seems to be my current state). So much has happened lately that I wondered if I needed therapy and some really good drugs. Then I figured out that I was just really hormonal and that it was time to purge some bad juju from my life.

Where to begin? Let’s call 2011 a transitional year for me. I have been coming to grips with turning 35, having shrinking ovaries and no man prospects in sight. I have dipped my toe in the online dating venue (again) and am struggling to figure out what cupid is just OK? My younger sister gave birth to probably the most perfect baby I have ever met. (I may be a bit biased, but I will say that my niece is a pretty amazing little lady). My dad finally left the hellish job of his that cut and burned him and made him think that not working on Saturday and Sunday meant he was on vacation. My dad leaving that job was the best thing ever – except that it meant my parents would be moving. To Ohio. I haven’t lived at home for over 10 years, but it is weird to think of there no long being a home. I mean, I still struggle with going there and not being greeted by the dogs of my childhood. But now, I can’t just pop over on a whim and have some chill time with my parents. I am thrilled for them (they are closer to their granddaughter and closer to my mom’s sister), but I am a little sad for me. Of course this move means that this has been the summer of Packapolooza.

Packing a house that your parents lived in for 36 years is not fun. Not really at all. My dad doesn’t want to help all that much and since he is working 12 hour days and living in another state. My mom has been working her tail off, but there is a lot to do and she reminisces about every little thing, so it takes a long time to sort through a box. My mom is also a bit of a HIT (“hoarder-in-training”). I blame growing up with not a lot of money for her want to save everything. She is not a big fan of Deb and me as we have been forcing her to purge some things. It is a tight rope we are walking as we spend our summer weekends packing, spackling, painting and repairing. If I were to write a story about my summer vacation, for the most part it would be about packing.

Aside from packing, I got to take a relaxing family mini-vacation (no Portland ’08 incidences). On that trip, my parents and I visited a good friend of mine. She has lived by my Ohio relatives for over a decade, but every time I have tried to visit, family has gotten in the way – you know how it is when visiting family, it seems that every minute of every day is scheduled. Never have I been so glad that I made time, because less than a week later my friend was in a severe boating accident on her birthday (which happens to be the day after mine). She is on the road to recovery, thank God, but there is nothing like a tragedy (her dog and close friend were lost in the accident) to shake you to the core and remind you what truly is important. I am devastated for my friend and the losses she has suffered, but grateful for the reminder that life is to be treasured and not taken for granted.

This was a helpful lesson as my own birthday celebration was a colossal disappointment. I say disappoint, because it didn’t go the way I hoped. It was nothing more than that though. What happened to my friend was a tragedy, my own drama (well really, someone else’s drama) was merely annoying – not life altering.

I am going to attempt the short version of the 35^th birthday not-so-fun shenanigans otherwise known as Mr. S and his drama caravan. In my gut, I knew that this birthday was going to be off. I should say flat out, I love a birthday. Not just my birthday, but anyone’s birthday. I love to celebrate a birthday. I love to honor someone’s birthday. I just simply love a birthday. My birthday plans for many years have been hanging with my mom during the day and then something with friends at night. I thought 35^th was a biggie, so I was looking forward to doing something big. I should’ve known when Hallmark didn’t make a 35^th birthday card that things were not going to go as planned. My mom was in Ohio for my birthday, so I took a surrogate birthday date to the Paul McCartney concert at Wrigley Field. I should’ve stopped with that. It was a great show! (Paul is awesome and he even remembered it was my birthday. I appreciated the “Happy Birthday” singing telegram!)

Mr. S had said that I needed to do something for my birthday with friends. Since I was out of town the weekend before, I was going to the concert on my birthday and I work on Saturday nights, this left Friday after my birthday. While I love a big party and have thrown myself some great ones, I just wasn’t feeling it this year. I tested out a million ideas and settled on Navy Pier’s beer garden for some dancing to cheesy cover tunes and a bar in BUCKTOWN (can you believe I went so far out of the neighborhood?). I invited a few friends, thinking that it would be a fun, chill evening. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Thankfully my friend Meghan didn’t have to work and the Bears canceled Family Fest, because that meant that 3 whole people met me out at Navy Pier. Mr. S was supposed to head there with me and Zee and her husband. Instead, Mr. S got trashed and required sobering up food at 7 PM. The plan was to be on the pier until around 9:30 and then head to BUCKTOWN. (I am going to keep shouting this, because it was apparently a big deal for people to go there). Daisy, who was working, was going to meet us there.

I kind of had a bad taste in mouth because of the sobering Mr. S up debacle that made it so I a) went to my birthday “party” alone and b) would’ve been alone if not for the aforementioned circumstances. However, I am an optimist, so I still herded everyone off the pier and we headed to BUCKTOWN to meet up with my friends. In a tragicomedy sort of way, I walked into the establishment, pooh-poohing the need to be shown to a table because my friends were already there and took a lap through the establishment. Then I took another. Then I acknowledge that though they were there 15 minutes before, my friends had all left. Apparently Mr. S spent too much money waiting for me and waited too long for me to actually stay and celebrate my birthday with me. So Mr. S, Zee and Hubby were at another location. Daisy was texting reasons why she was so delayed. At this point, I was pretty much done with the whole evening and ready to just call it a Friday night and not a birthday thing. Which is of course, when Mr. S, Zee and Hubby decided to make a return appearance.

Mr. S made a to-do about being there, leaving HIS FRIENDS to go to BUCKTOWN to celebrate with me. Mind you, it is now 11:15 PM, 4 + hours after we were meeting up. With their entrance, I stuck a fork into the idea of actually salvaging the evening. I took a moment outside to collect myself. This moment was disrupted by Mr. S extolling his virtues – how he went to BUCKTOWN, for ME; left his friends, for ME…et cetera, et cetera – these statements were thrown in my face several times over the next 24-hours. You can just assume that if I mention Mr. S, he is pointing these things out to me.

So, Mr. S is a legend in his own mind, Zee and Hubby are fighting (again) and I am trying to figure out how the night went to hell in a hand basket. A lot of shouting and tears later, we go back to the neighborhood (because though Mr. S has gone all the way to BUCKTOWN, I just want to go home) and head to a Mr. S loved bar. Where the girls have low IQs, the music is too loud and the overall vibe is drunk, post Cubs. Good times. This is when Mr. S decides to be a marriage counselor and he forces Zee and Hubby to talk. And by talk, I mean shout. Meghan and I drink our warm-ish beers as fast as possible, so that we can get out of dodge. We do and head to Mr. S place #2. Thankfully, though I love them, we lose Zee and Hubby. Of course, this is when Daisy decides to call and check in, knowing the night is a train wreck. Cue Mr. S deciding that the evening will now be about Daisy’s lack of friendship, as she has missed 4 BIRTHDAYS and is a PHONEY friend. (It goes without saying that one of these birthdays is his, which is the crux of the issue). And so now we have drunk Mr. S trying to pick a fight with Daisy, on “my” (his) behalf.

We end up seeing Daisy at the very end of the night; because I was seeking a quiet night cap, a bathroom and some cigarettes (can you blame a girl?) Mr. S runs out of the bar – yelling at her and begins drunk, angry-texting her. I apologize to Daisy for this, because although I am upset about her missing my birthday, that is my business, not Mr. S’s. I stick a fork in a lame, drama-packed misadventure and head home --thankful that the night has finally come to a close.

PSA for Readers Everywhere

If I told you to think of an mp3 player, I think it is safe to assume that your mind would immediately go to the iPod. Though the Google Operating System parallels the iPhone in quality (dare, I be so bold as to say it surpasses it?!?), if I ask you to name a SmartPhone, more often than not, the iPhone will be thought of first. It is the same with eReaders. If I say eReader, you say Kindle. What I can't figure out is why?!?

I realize that it was on the market first. But the original Kindles were overpriced and clunky. There were bugs galore. That is what happens when you are first. You get noticed. And then, while everyone is basking in the glow of your awesome technological advance, you quietly clean up the kinks, clear out the bugs and push out a bunch of version releases – each one an "improvement."

The Kindle is nice. It has a decent, readable screen. You can read books you purchased from Amazon on it. It has name recognition. Ok, that's all I can think of to say about it. Side-by-side compare eReaders and the Kindle doesn't stand out. Yet, over and over, I keep hearing people utter "I love my NEW Kindle." Why? What is it that you love?

Is it the technology that allows you to share books with others? Is it the fact that you can "check out" eLibrary Books from your local library and read them? Is it the color screen? Is it the Apps Market? Is it the ability to load Google Books onto it? Or is it none of the above, because while there are eReaders in the market that can do some or all of the aforementioned things, the Kindle isn't one of them.

Amazon is touting the fact that the Kindle has out sold Harry Potter. I find that sad. All that means is that there are millions of current consumers who didn't do their eReader homework. While I thank Amazon for trailblazing, there are others who have set a far better path. I hope that people start to see the new directions they can take.

Thank You For Being My Friend

Awhile back, a high school friend sent me one of the best notes I have ever received. He said that he enjoyed my writing (something that I am always insecure about) and he encouraged me to continue. This was crazy on so many levels. A) I was pretty sure that I was writing for the great void that is the world wide web. B) I am my own worst enemy when it comes to critiques, so I tend to think I am a blathering idiot whenever I write. It seems, at least in my friend's eyes, I am wrong on both accounts. Humbled and honored by this note, I should say that I repaid his kindness by not blogging a thing for the last several weeks. In my pathetic defense, I was trying to finish up a class for school that can only be referred to as my kryptonite. Never has learning made me want to poke my eyes out more. While I learned a lot in the class and am so happy to have (successfully) completed it, the greatest lesson of all is that I will not become a copyright lawyer. At least not in this lifetime. Holy cannoli, that stuff was painful.

Though I started a new class today, I figured that I owed my friend and myself some needless ramblings about life.

In approximately five weeks, I am about to become an aunt for the first time. I have been counting down to this event with more enthusiasm than I have counted down to anything. Though this little baby will not be my child, I can already feel that I love her more than anything. It is strange to be so excited over someone you have never met. It has been an honor to watch my sister blossom throughout this pregnancy, even when her legs swelled up and like memory foam and the alien baby was poking out of her belly. As far as I am concerned, February can't get here fast enough!

Christmas is my favorite time of year. I throw a Christmas party every year. In my dreams, this is a classy affair with good food, fancy cocktails, well-dressed friends and old-fashioned fun. With my friend's that is not really the case at all, as things like Franzia-stands (think keg stand with a bladder of boxed wine) and Fan Ball (involving a waffle ball and my living room ceiling fan) seem to always happen. This year, it was drinking shots out of an inflatable sheep. Please don't make me explain that one any further! In all that craziness though, friends from all walks of my life come together to celebrate my favorite holiday and that really is all I have ever wanted for Christmas.

If you're still reading, the next several sentences will seem like an about face, but I have a little venting to do. I have a friend, well, actually it seems right now, he's not my friend….it is hard to keep track, since he turns on a dime. Let's start at the beginning….way back when, I was friend's with a girl. For the purposes of this story, we shall call her Zee. Zee was dating my friend and friends with another guy, whom we will call Mr. S. Because of my friendship with Zee, I got to know and become good friends with Mr. S. It got to a place in which I was always hanging out with Mr. S, in a friend way. (I feel that I should clarify, because this dilemma has nothing to do with romantic feelings – at least not between me and Mr. S – or me and Zee for that matter!) Back on track, I had another female friend, we shall call her Daisy who was friends with all of the aforementioned characters. In some strange way, I found myself in a Huey, Louie and Dewey trio with Mr. S and Daisy. Until Mr. S had a thing for Daisy and they decided to try each other on – on the sly of course.

I went through this lonely transition of having lost my partners-in-crime, as well as an awkward place in which neither of them were being very honest with any of our friends about their current foray into each other. This went on for forever and then some. I finally confronted Mr. S about the relationship that wasn't at a Halloween Party – 9 months into the chaos. Of course this made things harder for me, as I now had confirmed a lot of truth from Mr. S and had to deal with the hurt of having Daisy not be honest with me. That stung, as Daisy and I have been friends for a long time. Fast forward a year, same old same old – still a DL relationship, only now Mr. S is pissed at me, because I am a lousy friend to Daisy. I confess, I wasn't always there for her during this time, but she constantly had plans with Mr. S, I was feeling monumentally excluded and I was frustrated, because I knew there was something going on, but Daisy wouldn't talk about it. Mr. S tried to blacklist me, talking a lot of crap about me and attempting to omit me from things. It was a delightful time in my life. I should mention that during this time, I had told Mr. S a bunch of times that I didn't think this relationship was good for either him or Daisy. I initially thought they were good for each other, but over time, thought they should both cut their loses and find some real happiness.

Anyway, Mr. S would say some lovely things about me to all of our mutual friends – apparently missing the idea that they then told me. It was a lovely return to high school. Actually, nope, people in high school didn't act this ridiculously immature. It continued until Mr. S and Daisy went down in a blaze of glory. Their relationship imploding early this summer. Suddenly, I was Mr. S's friend again. The voice of reason. The loyal friend. I fielded multiple calls / texts a day, doling out support and sage advice. Trying to be the shoulder of support. I listened. I reassured. I said all the right things. I tried to do this in the face of feeling truly uncomfortable, because in his anger he was cruelly bashing a friend of mine. Daisy and I may have drifted, but she was still a friend. For that, I tried to listen to both sides (the worst kept secret, finally not a secret anymore) and stay as Switzerland. You can imagine that it didn't really work that way.

I eventually became uncomfortable with Mr. S's trash-talking of Daisy. Daisy and I were working on our friendship and being on the listening end of Mr. S's anger made me feel disloyal. I also thought all that venom was a bit toxic to say the least. And so I said to Mr. S one day, maybe he should stop exhausting himself with all this anger and move on toward better things in his life. This advice was, of course, met with juvenile anger and me being blacklisted again by Mr. S. Hilariously, I have been called "Team Daisy" now, as if we are tweens in Twilight-ville. The only difference in this blacklisting, is that I feel that I am losing friends in the process. Well, at least one in Zee. (Did you forget about her after all this drivel?) Zee and I had gotten really close over the years. I would venture to have called her one of my closest friends. Until the Mr. S debacle of August 2010. Then she staunchly went to Team Mr. S. With him blacklisting me, it seems that I lost Zee in the divorce. Which is weird, since I wasn't even in the crazy relationship with Mr. S (I now think the S stands for S&*#storm.) I don't think it is intentional. But, since she hangs out with him on the weekends, because he is sad and lonely (aka pathetic and needy) and he won't acknowledge me anymore, it makes it so that I never see her.

I don't care about losing Mr. S. I have come to the realization that he is an immature, selfish a$$. His on-again, off-again (when-I-feel-like-it) friendship is nothing I need in my life anymore. I'd feel bad about saying that, but he has trashed talked me to anyone who will listen for so long, that quite frankly, I think it is my right to respond. And to be honest, this is a safe space for me. Mr. S's concern is for himself only. I am positive he doesn't even know this blog exists. But I do miss Zee and I am not a fan of the fact that I never see her. I wonder if she misses me at all?!

Ok. Ranting complete. Needed to get it all out, so I can purge it. 2011 will be different. No more high school drama. I have been out of high school for half my life. I have no desire to continue to channel the childishness.

Empty Promises

So, I've lied up one and down another, pretending that I was going to maintain this blog, but a madcap rash of writer's block and a seemingly infinite streak of nothingness a.k.a my dating life made it hard to come up with things to say. Sure, I could have blathered on mindlessly about my daily activities, but if they were boring me, I assumed that they would bore you, those faceless / nameless 3 readers that may still check this blog, too.

You're probably wondering why now? Why pick up this silliness again? And in all honesty, I don't know. I just think it is time again. Maybe it is because I missed it. Maybe it is because I have been waxing yogic philosophical while reading Eat, Pray, Love, thinking that I could take myself on that same journey -- but really, knowing full well that I wouldn't have made it out of Italy. Maybe it's because I am tired of telling people one day I will go back to writing on this damn blog. Or maybe it is simply that I now believe that I miss it. I will say this, no more empty promises. I will write as I am moved - no schedule and no theme.

To catch you up on me, here's the Reader's Digest version of my life these days...

* Still in school slowly plugging away at my Master's. When I apply myself, I pretty much kick a$$, the problem is that I lack motivation in topics like Intellectual Property and Copyright Law in Higher Education. This makes finishing the course on time a bit of a challenge. We shall see how fall goes -- here's hoping I don't choose football over homework.

*Still working the same job - year #6 is fast approaching. I can now say that I have been doing what I have been doing for the past 10 years, which is nice on a resume, but terrifying in reality. Not too sure what I have to show for it. I'm still a long way away from teaching Romantic Poetry on an idyllic lawn to idealistic Lit Majors.

* Still serving the same drunk people at the same local tavern. Only now, they may be born in 1989. That thought it a little daunting. I remember 1989. Hell, I remember 1981. The scary thing is that I don't remember looking that young and I certainly don't know when I got this old.

* Still single. Hate to say "I'm looking," because everyone says you find it when you are not looking for it, but honestly, I think most of us are looking. I don't know what exactly it is that I am looking for, but I am hoping someone will clue me in when I find it. In the interim, I am still enjoying making more bad decisions than good ones, having Clark Kent crushes from afar on guys that would fit in at Comic Con and practicing my flirting on one unsuspecting guy per bar shift.

* Still waking up every morning to a cup of coffee that's half-full and a day where anything is possible.