Random Thoughts

I'm too excited for tomorrow to even begin to pretend I can write a cohesive post right now. So, instead you're getting a bullet version of what's going on in my head.

• I'm starting a list called "Times I'd Prefer I Had a Boyfriend." For the most part, I enjoy my independence and freedom. I like doing what I want, when I want to. However, I do find myself thinking, "Ugh, where's a man to do this?" (Sexist? Maybe. But true.) So far this week I've added two times to the list. 1) when I had to buy and then bring from my car to the basement a 40 lb bag of salt only to find the water softener doesn't work. (Thankfully, I have a dad for the 2nd half of that.) 2) Kill bugs. Specifically spiders. I can handle the stupid, overly large black ants. I draw the line at spiders.
  
• I have off Thursday & Friday of this week and Monday of next week. And yet all I can think today is, "I should have taken today off too!"
• Sometimes when I have visitors coming, I freak about ALL I have to get done. So today I have made 4 lists of things to do before 2:30 tomorrow. None of them are that ridiculously long or hard. I need to take a chill pill.
  
• It's probably because I'm SO FREAKING EXCITED for it to finally be tomorrow!
• I'm doing all my cleaning tonight, so tomorrow I can go and get pedicures and Chipotle with my mom. (Jealous?)
• Today at work I got to coordinate a movie shoot. It's not nearly as glamorous as you might think. Though it did include cramming 8 full grown adults into a closet so we could record them cheering. So there's that.
  
• I have Pine Mouth from some pine nuts I ate this weekend. It's much better today than it was yesterday but it's freaking random and annoying. And also, my mouth tastes like butt.
• I used the phrase, "Currently I have no man in my avatar" as a theoretical description of my singlehood.
  
• Related: Twitter might be running my life.
  
• I believe a small task force may have been formed last night to track down a bike cop in Milwaukee on my behalf. Jury is still out on how I feel about this. That's mostly because he was short.
  

Well that was fun, is it tomorrow yet?

8th Annual Summerfesting Trip

I don't know if I've shared this or not but I am a total sucker for traditions. It might just be that traditions sort of play into my OCD tendencies, but for one reason or another, I love 'em.

Coming up this week I will be participating in the 8th year of one of my very favorite traditions. Way back in the summer of 2004, when I was living in Minneapolis in an apartment on campus with three of my sorority sisters, during one of the most eventful summers of my life, I was able to convince my two best friends (and roommates) that Summerfest was the greatest event ever to take place...ever. This was on the tail of my three year streak of never missing a SINGLE day of Summerfest (read: I was nuts.) I was sad about not living in Milwaukee for the summer (notoriously the BEST time to live in Milwaukee) and knew that while I couldn't make the entire 11 days of the festival, I had to make it back for at least some of it. And why not drag my roommates with me? So we piled into cars and made the 6 hour trek back for the start of a long lived and memory filled tradition. One that at the time, we had no idea we were starting.

Fast forward eight years and we're still friends. Boyfriends have come and gone, degrees have been acquired, jobs have been accepted and resigned from, apartments rented, houses bought, hell one of us even got a husband in those 8 years. But the Summerfest tradition is going strong. The group has grown and shrunk and grown again, but the original three have never missed a year.

Our priorities have changed a bit, we prefer quieter scenes and drink considerably less. But some parts have carried on and will forever.

We always make it to Summerfest at least one night. Nowadays there's a lot more complaining about the drunk teenagers there. Ironic given that at the start of our tradition we WERE the drunk teenagers there. We stay to the side and leave earlier than close, but we make it there.

There is always a trip to Elegant Farmer in Mukwonago. Cheese curds are a staple to the tradition.

We spend Sunday at my parents' house. There's booze drinking, hammock laying, pool swimming, and lots of catching up. My mom makes way too much delicious food and my dad mows a Boccearena (an actual course for our annual Girls vs. Boys Bocceball Game) into their front lawn.

As of last year, we try to include Jazz in the Park on Thursday. If there's time we go to the Pleasant Prairie Outlets (a favorite among the male participants for sure).

This year we're adding a few new activities. We'll be touring Miller Park (since we have YET to play the weekend they're down here), and Lakefront Brewery. Paddle boats on the lake front and a museum if there's time. We're trying some new places (to the guests) to eat and drink (Swig, Olive Pit, Stubby's, Bryant's), and keeping some favorites in there too (The Yard at the Iron Horse, we discovered this last year.)

I can't even put into words how much I look forward to this weekend each year. It's my own version of taking a major trip. It's an escape in my own city that I love so dearly. I get to surround myself with some of my favorite people who walk this Earth, and show of my dear Milwaukee. How much better could it possibly get?

I'm a Crier.

Inspired by Lotso (from Toy Story 3), my nephew has been saying, "I'm a hugger!" whenever he hugs someone now. It's beyond adorable and absolutely hilarious.

Well, I'm taking this in a different direction and announcing I'm a crier**. I can't even believe this needs to be announced, as pretty much anyone who has spent 5 minutes with me has probably seen me cry. And no, not in a train wreck hot mess, over dramatic kind of way. I just cry. Happy, sad, disappointed, surprised, moved in pretty much any way possible, and I cry. It's nearly out of my control and happens all the damn time. (Though I did learn a little trick that you should clench your buttcheeks and swallow at the same time and it actually momentarily halts production in your tear ducts. It works but only for a brief moment and at some point, I need to unclench. Sidenote: I really wish I could remember where I heard that.)

So you can imagine the kiss of death when a potential suitor said to me, "Oh so you're a crier?" (Mind you, this was in response to me saying the fender bender and terrible day I had didn't make me angry but did make me cry a bit. So it wasn't a spilt milk situation!)

When I responded yes, the next question was, "Do you cry at movies?" I wanted to respond with, "are you freaking kidding me?! All the time. (That mention of Toy Story 3? Yup, sobbed through the end of that one.) Instead I just said, "Of course."

To which he asked, "Even in the theaters?!" (Toy Story 3 was DEFINITELY viewed in a child filled theater...didn't stop me.) And then followed up with, "I don't know how to deal with people when they cry."

Well, well, well. Quite the predicament you've worked yourself into then potential suitor. As, a) I have LITERALLY just revealed to you how much I cry, and b) don't plan on stopping any time soon, because c) I kind of like crying, oh that, and, I totally dig who I am...so there's that.

After the day I had, there was no way I could even figure out an appropriate response to that. Didn't have time, effort, patience, etc. Now, I realize that there are some people who just don't ever cry and have NO idea what to do with tears. I get that. I also get that I may be a minority because not everyone cries all the time. (My mom does...I get it from her.) BUT, I do. And will. Guaranteed. It will definitely happen in front of the next guy I date. FOR SURE. So, while I'm not asking for Mr. Next Boyfriend to be a crier, I do ask that he be understanding of the fact that I am. I'd even love if he, perhaps, found my over productive tear ducts adorable.

And really, I need very little comforting. No words, just give me a little hug and let me cry (it never lasts long.) Or, take a page out of my dad's book and do his super quick and intense back rub and just repeat, "it'll be okay." Even that works!

**So I went back and was going to link to some past posts about me crying or ho I'm a crier. There's too many. I must talk about crying a lot. I swear I'm not a train wreck!!

The Mondayest of Mondays

Yesterday was rough. The morning went along smoothly and I just managed to nearly self destruct in the afternoon. I had appointments for the furgirls to go to the doctor for their annual check-up. $500 later, I walked out with two healthy pets. Not sure how that works, but I did. Shaken up from the shocking amount of the bill (it was unexpected as a few "extra" things came up), I went home and dropped them and their clean (albeit expensive) bill of health off. Onward to the next errand of the day.

Signing the papers. I'm not divorced, this I know. And I realize the fortune that exists with that fact. That the break-up happened before a marriage and therefore, we avoided being the big D. However, I believe I've come as close as possible. After dating for nearly 3 years and living together for the greater majority of those years, our lives were about as intertwined as you can get without being legally married. We had joined together most everything we had, including our bank accounts. This was the last step to all ties being severed. So while I didn't have divorce papers to sign, this was my version of them. Once I signed my name by that X, it was over. I'd never HAVE to speak to him again. And, much like divorce papers, these were being signed months after things were already long over and done. As I dotted my i, the banker asked me, "So where do you go now?" It took me a minute to remind myself he didn't know the situation, he was asking about my bank accounts, where I'd have them now that I closed these. I felt a sigh of relief as I knew the answer to latter much more than the former. As I left the bank, I was surprised as tears welled up in my eyes. I'm glad it's over and I'm able to check another thing of the list to get me "officially" untied to the situation, but still, it seemed unbelievable that with one quick signature I was released. Free. Nothing joint about it. Seemed like such a trivial way to officially close that chapter in my life.

Fortunately for me, my day of fun wasn't over! I was on my way to my own annual checkup at the Doctor's office. Woo hoo! I hopped on I-94 and headed west. And thanks to the construction I did so slowly. Then the off ramp I needed to take was closed. Still teary eyed I called my mom, she's the best route planner I know. My brother & I often call her during the day to find alternate routes to take. She hunts them down on the map, checks traffic and directs us to the most efficient and quickly moving path. Our own version of ground control. Heading down my new path, still on time, I'm almost to the clinic when...BAM. I move to make a right hand turn at the stoplight and instead make a turn right into the car in front of me. (I told you, I was self destructing.) This was totally my fault, however, it went from bad to worse rather quickly.

1) it was someone I went to high school with. Awesome. She's a nice girl, but really, in that moment, down $500 and a harsh reminder of losing a boyfriend, and on my way to a pap smear, I wasn't up for talking to anyone.

2) Of course the police just happen to be driving by...so we end up in full written report mode.

3) I'm going to be late for my appointment and have to call the notoriously bitchy receptionists, who in true form, give me shit for being late, even though I've told them it's because I'm in a fender bender.

Fortunately, I have the sweetest doctor in the whole world. She asks about how I'm doing, what's happening in my life. She knows the ex and my entire family & friend circle (they are all also her patients). Naturally, she asks about how that's going. And, also naturally, I start crying. (What? You don't break down in front of your girly parts doctor??) I explain, had I not just spent a ton of money, closed our joint account and gotten into a car accident, I'm generally really composed when talking about it. She offers suggestions, tells me she's been there and that it'll all work out. I find a strange amount of comfort in hearing this. Maybe it's the white coat that makes it seem officially true. She tells me I'm not allowed to come back next year without taking a major trip out of the state. It's doctor's orders.

And while this is already a ridiculously long post, I have to close by proving I'm not just a Debbie Downer. Mom and Dad came to the rescue yet again. Dad fixed the car while mom hugged me and let me cry. Then took me out for a beer and dinner. We laughed and joked and I got to end the day on a high note.

Onward to Tuesday...hey, at least it's not a Monday!

Wow me.

I've mentioned before I'm a pretty "balls to the wall" kind of person. When I decide I like someone / something, I LIKE them/it. There's not a ton of time spent deciding where I stand on things. I usually pick a side and stand there...with some pretty strong conviction. This is both a blessing and a curse. I am certain I have written off things that I shouldn't have. Things that, if given a second chance, I could have really enjoyed. However, it also means I spend very little time doing things I don't enjoy. So there's a balance there.

It used to drive my ex crazy. Travel to the jungle in the middle of nowhere? No. But how do you know you don't want to?, he'd always ask. Because I just do. Could I have LOVED the jungle? Maybe. But I also could have hated every minute of it, so I'd rather go somewhere I know I'd love.

I know what I like and what I want. Sorry I'm not sorry.

However, this also makes dating...odd? I am waiting to be wowed. I've been close to being wowed in the past. In fact, there have been a few relationships of mine that I was, in fact, WOWED in the beginning. Like romantic story to tell the grandkids, first kiss in a crowd while the rain poured down, WOWED. So I know it's possible. However, all my wows to date ended less than ideal (obviously). So I've been on a few first dates now and I'm still waiting for the wow.

They're not bad or mean. Some of them have been a little boring. But they're not wowing me. Also, they're not making me laugh. Which I clearly state at any occasion possible I LOVE laughing. And if you ever spent even 5 minutes with me, you know I laugh at just about ANYTHING. (My brother calls me the best audience ever because he can have me in stitches with very little effort at all.) So if I can spend a few hours with you and you don't make me laugh? Clearly you're not very funny. Yup, I said it.

My point? I'm waiting to be wowed. And I have gotten comfortable with waiting for it. I was annoyed at first, all whiny and bitching about how "I don't want to wait anymore" or "I hate dating!" But really, I'm getting okay with it. Mostly because I refuse to settle. I know my wow-er is out there. I have seen too many people settle for less than wow...and I just can't do it. I've seen people who are wowed. People, who after 35 years are STILL being wowed, and how could I possibly deny myself that?

10 Lies I'll Tell You About this Weekend

I liked this so much last time I'm going to do it again.

Here we go kids, 10 lies I'm telling you about this weekend.

1. I have not been counting down the minutes to the end of the day since I first sat in my chair this morning.

2. I am not worried at all about the weather tomorrow (have activities planned that have me outside from 8 a.m. to about 5 p.m.)

3. I will not spend the majority of the weekend in sweatpants.

4. I already got my dad a father's day gift.

5. I have tons of ideas in case I didn't get said father's day gift.

6. I'm not viewing this weekend as "filler" until the next 3 weekends come up. (Hello MN friends, I'm very excited to see you over the course of the next 3 weeks!)

7. I will not be in bed early tonight because I did NOT stay out past midnight last night.

8. I don't have to go to the gym because I've been so good about exercising this week.

9. I will not go to Target immediately after work to buy the next Emily Giffin novel because I did not finish Something Borrowed in less than a week.

10. I will not throw a fit if there's no sun at all this weekend. (seriously, the little tan I have is fading quickly. Must fix.)

Have a good one friends! See ya on the flip side.

It's almost official.

I'm becoming a grown up right before your very eyes. I know, it's pretty monumental. (And necessary, given that I'm now closer to 30 than 20 and only 2.5 years away from no longer even being able to say I'm in my 20's).

Take last night for example, I got home from work and instead of driving thru somewhere to grab dinner (which is REALLY easy to do when it's just one mouth you're feeding!), I made a quick dinner. (Which also means I've got my house stocked with groceries. A trend that has been kept up for the last few months.) Then, instead of lying in bed and relaxing, I took the dog out on a long walk. Something both her and I could benefit from more of. Then, after going to volunteer for a while, instead of watching 16 & Pregnant, I read my book. The SECOND book I've read this month. (I honestly don't know the last time I read two books in one month...sad, yes I know. I'm working on it, alright?!)

Now, I totally admit, this season of 16 & Pregnant is a total snooze fest, not to mention a collection of the finest trash scattered across this fine country of ours. (Seriously. The show was much better when it was all, "Look, this rich cheerleader got knocked up! It could happen to you too if you're not careful!" This season it's a lot of ZERO SHOCK that those girls got preggers. Less entertaining. Sorry but it's true.) BUT, the fact that I am enjoying reading so much is a pleasant surprise to me. I really want to read more and I just might be making that happen!

Combine that with the fact that I've just finished my 3rd pound of coffee (it's officially a habit people!) and I'd say I'm in full fledged grown up territory!

AND, I'm hardly even sad about becoming a grown up because yesterday THREE different people asked me if I was in school, if I was happy school was out for the summer, and how much school I had left. They think I'm in college. And I'll say it again (because on the book and the twitter wasn't enough)...

Nightly anti-wrinkle cream routine...for the win!

Say My Name.

Like many before it, this post is kind of two fold. But it all comes back to the question "what's in a name?" It occurred to me this morning, as I was sending an e-mail to friends, that there are some people that will always be a certain name to me. Getting married won't change it. I still call a lot of my friends by their maiden name. But then I realized it's mostly people with common names who I still use their original last name with. I think it's because when you have a name like Erin or Katie people stream your first and last name together so tightly that it almost becomes one whole name. Then you go and get married and it's impossible for me to split those names up and replace it with a new one. Sorry, it just is. So forever in my mind and vocabulary, you will be known by your maiden name. My friends with more unique names, where I only know one of them, they can change their last name a hundred times and I'll be able to go with the flow and adjust. (Side note: Sukie, you should be just fine on this one ;))

This has always been a "thing" to me. When I think of my future babies' names, I want them to be semi-unique. I'm not talking about naming them after a fruit or city they were conceived in. Just something slightly unusual. Don't get me wrong, I love my name and the story of why I was named Angela. (Born the day after Christmas, Grandpa said I was the Christmas Angel...collective "awwwwww". Little did they know!) Though I NEVER go by Angela. That's exclusively used a) by people who don't know me b) in times I am in trouble or c) by my dad when I burp in public.

I like Angie, I've grown into Angie and it works for me. But I remember in elementary school always having to go by Angie N. Or for that brief time in 6th grade when the bitchy cool girls called me "Nickel-ass" which at the time made me cry because they were making fun of me. Looking back I should have been swooning over any one describing my ass as something that hard. File that under: things I wish I would've known then. I'm going to try to find names for my babies that are hopefully unique enough that they won't have to be a last initial kid. Though I do realize most parents think they're doing this until they get to preschool and there's 45 Olivias.

I will definitely take whatever my future husband's last name is, there's no question about that (fingers crossed I'm not jinxing myself to marry someone with a horrible last name). But I don't think I'm at risk for the "just can't shake the maiden name" game. For the most part people just call me Angie. (At least that's what they're calling me to my face!)

So in summary:
Sorry to anyone I don't call by your married last name. I can't help it. It doesn't mean I hate your husband.

I'll probably be just Angie for the rest of my life and I'm more than happy about that.

Because of my public declaration of these things my kids will probably end up named Joe and Katie and have to go by some crazy variation of their initials...and have a last name like Weiner.

Weekend Recap

I am having the hardest time with a cohesive post lately. Lots of bullets. I'm going to try to avoid listing this one and just tell it in a story. Without bullets. (I'm already worried about my ability to keep a solid train of thought. Here goes...)

This was a very relaxing and laid back weekend. My mind and body needed it. I feel as though, given my monthly visits to the Twin Cities, I've been spending the 2 weeks after visits recovering and then the 2 weeks before the visit in preparation mode. Save energy, sleep and money as best I can because I know I'll be spending / foregoing a lot of it when I'm up there! (NOT complaining... I like it this way, I'm just stating the facts.)

Friday I watched as a friend I've known since 3 year old preschool married his girlfriend of many many years. I was pleased to know that even though they've been together forever, lived together for a long time, and seem married in every sense except the rings, it still felt super special. We still all said, "I can't believe their married!" as they walked back down the aisle as husband and wife. Also, damn do I love a good wedding. We all stood as she walked down the aisle and before we were even given the command to be seated I turned to S and said, "I could cry already. I won't because I'm trying to be controlled, but you should know, I totally could." Weddings make my heart smile. I fear it will explode when it's my own.

Saturday was a surprise no hangover day. I love those kinds of days. Especially because Friday included a lot of various adult beverages. Wine, beer, vodka and what we were calling Diet Mountain Dudes. (Three Olives Dude Vodka with Diet Mountain Dew...not sure about that one, though it was delicious.) I'm fairly certain I can contribute this to the fact that not once, not twice, but THREE times we went through the McDonald's drive through grabbing SIXTY chicken mcnuggets each trip. There was a good handful of eaters, but still...we ended up with a total of 180 chicken nuggets and about 15 cheeseburgers. Healthy? No. The reason I woke up without a hangover? Yes, absolutely yes. I woke up early, felt great and got on with my day!

A MN friend, T, was driving back through after buying her adorable new car in Chicago, so she stayed with me Saturday night. It was perfect. We ate pasta, drank diet coke, watched the Hangover 2 (Well, I refuse to eat fucking cantaloupe at a bachelor party! My new favorite quote from a movie. ), and got caught up on everything else. We even went old school and went to Perkins on Sunday morning before she had to head back to MPLS.

Sunday, as per usual, I went to my parents house. Sat out, enjoyed the beautiful day, spent time with the fam and the nephew. It was a nice relaxing close to a nice relaxing weekend.

Wow, that was far more cohesive than I expected.

Responsibilibuddies

If you've ever been out with me, you know I have a tendency to go into mom mode on occasion. I mean sure, on rare occasions, I've also gone into stupid drunk mode, but for the most part I'm more mom than stupid drunk. So it's no surprise that the story of the missing IU student makes me so sad and drives me crazy.

One of the BEST lessons I learned in college was NEVER under any circumstances should someone walk home alone. In fact, I'm pretty sure it was something we could potentially have been scolded for through the sorority "rules board." We had a slight advantage through our Sober Sister program (every Fri & Sat night girls volunteered to stay at the house and be available from 10-2 to pick up sisters from wherever they might be on campus to help avoid solo walks home and drunk driving.) However, even if we were walking to and from places, we traveled in packs most of the time, but never less than pairs.

There are so many stories you hear of college students disappearing and while it's not an every day occurrence, it seems it could be much more easily avoided. Things happen when people have been drinking. It's easier to get confused about where you are, to fall and hit your head, to be susceptible to being taken advantage of. I mean, sure the 110 pound sorority girl I'd be walking home with probably couldn't fend of an attack, but if I got hurt, she could get help. She could keep me from getting lost. It's just one more brain helping the situation.

And now, almost 10 years after my freshman year of college, I still carry this lesson with me. Just a few weeks ago I went to a Bachelorette party in Chicago. And before I allowed the party into their cabs, everyone had to promise me they had a responsibilibuddy and they would not let that girl out of her sight. They'd stick together all night, or trade buddies until no one was left alone. Granted, we're a little older now, so most of us took cabs home before bar time even hit, but still. You can never be too careful when it comes to getting home post-drinking.

So to all those people out there who are still walking to bars and house parties through the wee hours of the morning - please, please, please don't do it alone. Nothing is worth losing a friend over. Not that one last drink, not even making out with that cute frat boy. The beer and the boy will still be there tomorrow (lesson #2: there's ALWAYS more beer and more boys). Go home with your friend if she needs to go home. If your girl is super wasted, give up the rest of your night and get her home safely. No one wants to be the last one to see the now missing girl. I promise.

And if you're super party girl? Pick a responsibilibuddy who's also super party girl. That way you don't have to worry about having to leave early and you'll still be safe! (See I'm not being a fun vacuum, you can still be crazy fun and careful!)

Grab a buddy and promise not to leave them for the night. You'll be so glad you did when you're both safe (and painfully hungover) at home the next morning to trade tales from the night before.

Random Thoughts.

It's a random thoughts kind of day...

• On my ride in this morning my soundtrack went like this: "Stronger" by Sara Evans, "All 4 Love" by Color Me Badd (insane dance party happened), "Free Fallin'" by Tom Petty and "Dirt Road Anthem" by Jason Aldean. I loved every bit of it...and danced and sang at the top of my lungs!
• Got to have a nice chat about the weather with work crush #2 on the walk in.
  
• When I'm lazy and wear flats (instead of heels) to work, I make myself take the stairs in the parking garage. In heels, I'm not confident enough in my ability to NOT fall down the stairs so I take the elevator.
• Whenever I have to bring my laptop with me to a meeting, I take the elevator. The imagery of me falling down the stairs and hurling my computer down a few flights is WAY to real in my mind.
  
• I enjoy when people refer to people I'm not happy with as "the douchebag" or "the asshole" instead of using their real name. Even more so when the people using it hardly know the person. Makes me feel their allegiance to "my side" (Mean? yes. But true.)
• I think I might be suffering from withdrawals from the Cities. Facts to support this include me planting my entire flower garden in various species of maroon & gold flowers, streaming Cities 97 constantly while at my computer, and replacing pictures in my frames at home w/ recent visit pictures. Good thing I've got at least monthly MN visits planned through October!
• I've recently gotten to have weekly phone chats with a friend. That hour of catching up with her has become so special to me and I look forward to them probably more than she even knows!
• I don't have any human roommates (just the two furry ones) but if I did, they'd probably be a little concerned about how often I talk to my animals.
  
• I'm pretty sure closure is my drug of choice lately. I can't handle situations not being wrapped up and files closed. Looking for my next fix...
• I CANNOT stop laughing at the whole Weiner Scandal. I'll be kind of sad when it's over and I don't get to hear the Today Show hosts saying Weiner multiple times in a morning.

That's all for now folks, another little glimpse inside my brain. Hope you enjoyed...or at least aren't too frightened.

Double post Friday.

I know, what is she crazy?! No, I'm not (yet). I read Andy's blog over on OnMilwaukee and loved the concept so I'm snagging it (after giving credit) and doing my own version of it.

10 Lies I'll Tell You About This Weekend:

1. I won't go to Target without a list to wander until I find things I need, but never know I did.
2. I will opt for a extra long workout over laying out by the lake on Saturday morning.
3. I will shower at least three times.
4. I will not base my entire flower garden on whatever is cheapest at the Depot.
5. I will not double check my phone for a text message.
6. I will spend zero time at all thinking about boys.
7. I will not spend most of Sunday reminiscing about last weekend and wishing it was on repeat.
8. I will act my age when my nephew wants to go shark hunting in the deep end of the pool. (Subsequently, I will not actually get scared that maybe, just maybe, there is a shark in the deep end.)
9. I will definitely catch all of any NBA action that takes place, it is after all my favorite sport.
10. I will not wear sweatpants / yoga pants in public.

So there ya go. 10 lies about my weekend. I think I like this concept. I'll probably repeat it at some point. FYI.

The Gray.

"Shades of gray wherever I go,
The more I find out the less that I know,
Black and white is how it should be,
But shades of gray are the colors I see."
-Billy Joel

I need to warn right off the bat that this is going to be scatterbrained. I knew it the minute I wrote the title. I have issues with the word "grey"...mostly because I never know if it's grey or gray? I know technically it can be either. (Turns out there's an entire website explaining it.) In England they use grey. In America, we use gray. My spell check clearly prefers gray. I think I never questioned the spelling until Grey's Anatomy and then that version started looking more familiar. ANYWAY (holy shit Angie, really? This many words dedicated to the spelling of grey / gray?!) my point here, was that even the word itself has to be complicated. OF COURSE IT DOES.

I had a chat with my friend, we'll call her S, last night about my extreme dislike for the "gray area." I prefer knowing to not knowing, and as far as I'm concerned, the gray area is as good as not knowing. I like answers. Definitive responses. Meticulous plans. Sure I like a good surprise here and there (but I WILL annoy the piss out of you leading up to it, trying to find out what the surprise is.) I acknowledge it's a little excessive, could be toned down, and I do NOT expect others to function like this. It's borderline obsessive and there's no good that comes from obsessing about anything in life, this I know. In the midst of this conversation S asked, "Have you always been like this?"

I thought back, as far as I can remember and then to some stories I've been told, and realized while I maybe haven't been as obsessive about it, I've always been quite particular. (In fact, you can ask my mom...as a kid I had some pretty distinct phases. Like when I would ONLY wear things with pockets...and then shortly after REFUSED anything with pockets. Seriously, that happened.)

My particularity and control freak tendencies are obviously directly related to my love for black and white and solid plans. BUT, as we've learned from all good recovery programs, the first step is acknowledging the problem. S is about as opposite of that as they come, and was sweet enough to tell me how she wishes she had a little more of that in her. We agreed we could both use a little more of the other in our lives.

So I'm going to work on it. More patience. More go with the flow. More respect for the gray. The here and now and less focus on what that means to the future. Someday, when I have kids, I'll NEED to be the obsessive coordinator of the family to keep all things sane. I'll HAVE to wonder about what it means to the future and what every reaction will be to every action. But for now, when it's just me, I could probably use a little less of it.

This is me...doing my best at going with the flow. Taking it as it comes. In the words of Garth, from the true cinematic genius that was Wayne's World, I'm going to "Live in the now!" (and probably blog quite a bit about how annoying it is...here in the now :)

Patience is a pain in my ass.

I've never been all that great with patience. I believe I may have mentioned that a few times here. When I decide I want something I'm pretty much balls to the wall* about it. It's just in my DNA.

When the topic of purchasing a house came up I immediately started searching. I made a handful of appointments for a Saturday when I knew I'd be back home. On Wednesday I found another house, made an appointment to see it on Thursday. Brought mom & dad through on Friday. Canceled all Saturday appointments and by 11:30 on Saturday morning had put in an offer. Monday the offer was accepted and within 30 days I had the keys in my hand.

A year ago I decided it was time to just start looking at trading in Libby and getting a new car. At 3:00 my parents and I left to look around the lots. By 7:30 I had officially cleaned out and traded in Libby. By 9:30 I was driving my Vue off the lot.

Two years ago (to the day, Happy Job Anniversary to me!) I took a temp job here to see if I liked what the company was all about. Within those two years I got permanently placed and moved to another position with a more fitting team.

The thing is, this has always worked out for me. For some reason when it comes to BIG decisions, my gut instinct is right. And I don't question it one iota. (Dine out with me and you'd think I was making a GIANT decision by choosing just one thing off the menu...takes me forever and I go back and forth with what I want until I'm forced to order. And about 50% of the time, I'll verbally announce my regret with that decision before the food is served.) As much as I understand why people say "patience is a virtue" and I understand the concept of needing to wait for certain things, I also believe this go for it instinct has worked out quite well for me in the past. If I start to question things I get all crazy and overwhelmed and analytical and completely lose sight of what my gut is telling me to do.

I think part of my trust in this "pull the trigger" mentality is that I also have strong faith in the fact that whatever is meant to be, will be. So if I pull the trigger and it doesn't work out, it wasn't meant to. As long as I'm not hurting myself or anyone around me, I think I'll continue to just keep listening to my instinct and going for it.

Don't say you weren't warned.

*As I typed that I realized I use that phrase ALL the time and have NO idea where it came from. Does it only apply to people with balls? Am I using it incorrectly? So I decided to check it out. Turns out it was coined in the WWII era by American Fighter pilots. The throttle levers had round tops that looked like balls. By pushing them forward towards the firewalls, you were making the plane move as fast as possible. Thus, "balls to the wall" meaning carrying out an action as quickly as possible. So there you go. Don't say I never taught you anything.