This past Friday, I realized that my friends and I are officially old. Or to put a more positive spin on things, we’re very comfortable with who we are and where we are in life.
Last Friday, I tried to rally the troops and get everyone to go out and go dancing to the 80’s. Super fun for the girls, and I could have talked the guys into it with enough alcohol. People pondered their Friday night plans during the day and once everyone was home from work it was time to make a decision.
After many phone calls amongst the group (why don’t we have group calling on our cell phones yet?), it was discovered that at most of us were already in pajamas or some variation there of. I’ll even admit that I was almost asleep when my phone started to ring. And the one person not in pajamas just hadn’t made it home from work yet. As you can probably guess, with people already in pajamas, the likelihood of going out was getting slimmer by the second.
And then someone came up with the most brilliant idea ever for a Friday night . . . a pajama movie party. Brilliant! So us West Siders trucked over to the East Side in our pajamas to watch movies. The movies themselves sucked, but it was a pretty solid Friday night.
Although a night that started with a plan to go out ended up in pajamas, the important part is that we still all got to hang out together. And lets face it, when you’re old and you work a full week, going out on a Friday just about kills you.
January 26, 2009
January 14, 2009
Single and Fabulous . . . Exclamation Point!
I am 28 and single. I’ll pause for reaction. Okay, if you’re done gasping and saying “Don’t worry, you’ll find someone,” I’ll move on. I have hit the point in my life where most of my friends are married, some are starting to have babies, and some are even starting to get divorced. To some of them, the idea of being single at my age is terrifying. I’m pretty much used to it at this point and the only times I really wish I had a significant other is when I need to get something off the top shelf or when my friends and I go away for the weekend and I get the couch instead of a bedroom.
Okay, there are other times I think it would be nice to have a significant other but do you never go outside because it’s raining? No, you just put on a raincoat and go about your day. The same thing applies to being single – just because you’re not dating anyone doesn’t mean that your life comes to a stand still. The great thing about my position is that for every friend I have that seriously worries I will end up an old maid there is another one who would never even think to use the word single as an adjective to describe me. Those are my favorite friends, the ones who love me just the way I am, or maybe in spite of the way I am, and occasionally because of my baking skills.
When you’re in your late twenties and single, friends rarely pass up the opportunity to try and set you up with someone. Since very few of my friends even know anyone single, fortunately it doesn’t happen to me very often. Thus far every guy who has been “totally awesome and perfect for me,” has been a total wanker. I have actually had to add must have valid drivers license and no criminal record to my deal breaker list. One would assume that those were givens, but nope, they had to be noted explicitly.
I bring this all up because I recently received an email from a good friend of mine. Apparently she has an older friend who wants his son to find the perfect woman. Obviously the perfect woman part has been found, but whether or not anything would ever work out dating wise, who knows. My friend actually did a really good job wording her email to me and in the reasons of why she thought of me for this guy, being single was 4th, following because he’s also from Montana, because I’m fabulous, and because I’m hot (all her words, not mine). My favorite part (Montana aside) was reason number five: “because he is a major hunter and I thought you might actually dig that as opposed to thinking its weird!”
Ah yes, the mighty hunter. Since I grew up in Montana I am familiar with the sport and am actually pro hunting. Something not all that common in liberal Portland, Oregon. Somehow my friend knew exactly which buttons to push, Montana and hunting. At least I could have a conversation with this one . . . assuming he has a driver’s license.
I’ll have to wait and see what happens, but this is something to note for you married people trying to set up your single friends. My friend learned from experience that the standard “Don’t worry you’ll find someone” line was not the way to go with me. When trying to set your friends up on a date, always make sure that because you’re single falls low on the list of reasons. Because yes, your friends may be single, but chances are they are also pretty fabulous or you wouldn’t be friends with them or trying to set them up. Single and fabulous . . . exclamation point!
Okay, there are other times I think it would be nice to have a significant other but do you never go outside because it’s raining? No, you just put on a raincoat and go about your day. The same thing applies to being single – just because you’re not dating anyone doesn’t mean that your life comes to a stand still. The great thing about my position is that for every friend I have that seriously worries I will end up an old maid there is another one who would never even think to use the word single as an adjective to describe me. Those are my favorite friends, the ones who love me just the way I am, or maybe in spite of the way I am, and occasionally because of my baking skills.
When you’re in your late twenties and single, friends rarely pass up the opportunity to try and set you up with someone. Since very few of my friends even know anyone single, fortunately it doesn’t happen to me very often. Thus far every guy who has been “totally awesome and perfect for me,” has been a total wanker. I have actually had to add must have valid drivers license and no criminal record to my deal breaker list. One would assume that those were givens, but nope, they had to be noted explicitly.
I bring this all up because I recently received an email from a good friend of mine. Apparently she has an older friend who wants his son to find the perfect woman. Obviously the perfect woman part has been found, but whether or not anything would ever work out dating wise, who knows. My friend actually did a really good job wording her email to me and in the reasons of why she thought of me for this guy, being single was 4th, following because he’s also from Montana, because I’m fabulous, and because I’m hot (all her words, not mine). My favorite part (Montana aside) was reason number five: “because he is a major hunter and I thought you might actually dig that as opposed to thinking its weird!”
Ah yes, the mighty hunter. Since I grew up in Montana I am familiar with the sport and am actually pro hunting. Something not all that common in liberal Portland, Oregon. Somehow my friend knew exactly which buttons to push, Montana and hunting. At least I could have a conversation with this one . . . assuming he has a driver’s license.
I’ll have to wait and see what happens, but this is something to note for you married people trying to set up your single friends. My friend learned from experience that the standard “Don’t worry you’ll find someone” line was not the way to go with me. When trying to set your friends up on a date, always make sure that because you’re single falls low on the list of reasons. Because yes, your friends may be single, but chances are they are also pretty fabulous or you wouldn’t be friends with them or trying to set them up. Single and fabulous . . . exclamation point!
December 21, 2008
Global warming? Surely you jest . . .
I grew up in Montana so I was used to the snow, ice, and cold. When you live in very wintry conditions for 3-4 months out of the year, you learn that life keeps going, and you just work around the snow. I had a similar experience when I moved to Portland. It rains all the time. You buy a rain coat and umbrella.
Not being one to let the weather get in my way, I have found this past week in Portland almost unbearable. Never in the 10 years I’ve lived in Oregon have I experienced a winter like this. Occasionally there is a day or two of snow and ice but then we go back to our normal temperate rainy season. This year, that is not the case. It started snowing last Sunday and the weather has been miserable ever since.
I don’t mind the snow and can and will drive in it, however the conditions here are a bit extreme. Anything that isn’t an arterial road is not plowed or sanded, sidewalks are not cleared and no one here knows how to drive in the snow. After a week of this insanity, I have cabin fever. I do my best to get out, but everything is so much more difficult than it should be.
For example, this afternoon I decided to make the 10 block trek to the gym. Normally this is a non-event. However there is snow everywhere and trying to get me and my snow boots through a minimum of 6 inches of snow for 10 blocks is exhausting. I felt like I got more exercise walking to and from the gym than I did while I was there for an hour!
Part of the problem is that Portlanders are not prepared for this kind of weather. It happens so rarely, why would most people here have snow gear? When I started thinking about it I realized that people don’t even own snow shovels to clear sidewalks. There are 4000 miles of roads to clear here and only a handful of snow plows. I enjoy a brief snow in Portland, but this is getting ridiculous.
Now of course even getting home for Christmas is becoming an issue. With major interstates shut down, I have purchased a plane ticket home at the last minute. Now even getting out of here on a plane is becoming a challenge, with most flights being canceled. It’s not even that I want to be home in MT for Christmas all that bad, I really just need to get out of Portland!
In my mind, global warming would have actually been warm and included fewer blizzards in Portland. And until this darn snow melts, I am destined to be attached to my pink snow boots. Sigh.
Not being one to let the weather get in my way, I have found this past week in Portland almost unbearable. Never in the 10 years I’ve lived in Oregon have I experienced a winter like this. Occasionally there is a day or two of snow and ice but then we go back to our normal temperate rainy season. This year, that is not the case. It started snowing last Sunday and the weather has been miserable ever since.
I don’t mind the snow and can and will drive in it, however the conditions here are a bit extreme. Anything that isn’t an arterial road is not plowed or sanded, sidewalks are not cleared and no one here knows how to drive in the snow. After a week of this insanity, I have cabin fever. I do my best to get out, but everything is so much more difficult than it should be.
For example, this afternoon I decided to make the 10 block trek to the gym. Normally this is a non-event. However there is snow everywhere and trying to get me and my snow boots through a minimum of 6 inches of snow for 10 blocks is exhausting. I felt like I got more exercise walking to and from the gym than I did while I was there for an hour!
Part of the problem is that Portlanders are not prepared for this kind of weather. It happens so rarely, why would most people here have snow gear? When I started thinking about it I realized that people don’t even own snow shovels to clear sidewalks. There are 4000 miles of roads to clear here and only a handful of snow plows. I enjoy a brief snow in Portland, but this is getting ridiculous.
Now of course even getting home for Christmas is becoming an issue. With major interstates shut down, I have purchased a plane ticket home at the last minute. Now even getting out of here on a plane is becoming a challenge, with most flights being canceled. It’s not even that I want to be home in MT for Christmas all that bad, I really just need to get out of Portland!
In my mind, global warming would have actually been warm and included fewer blizzards in Portland. And until this darn snow melts, I am destined to be attached to my pink snow boots. Sigh.
December 8, 2008
Oh to be a Beaver Fan
I wore a new orange thermal – not my usual white long sleeve T. As the Beavs were getting killed in the Civil War (the big rivalry football game against Oregon), this is the thought that ran through my head. Having played sports growing up, I understand superstitions as the athlete, but this was the first time it spilled over to me as a fan.
About two years ago, I got sucked into the world of college football – namely Oregon State football. My guy friends all had season tickets, and since they had extras, more often than not I found myself spending my weekends in Corvallis. This year I bought my very own season ticket and joined in the insanity that is being a Beaver fan.
For the most part, being a Beaver fan is like being in an abusive relationship. They have had a number of bad (ok, terrible) seasons, but the last few years have been exciting to watch. This year, after starting the season with three losses on the road, they beat USC in the second most exciting game I’ve seen them play (the first being when they beat USC in ’06). From that point on, the Beavs controlled their own destiny – win out and they would go to the Rose Bowl. This is the part where the abusive spouse is on the wagon. Things are going great, and you really believe that this time, they have changed. In the back of your mind, you’re still expecting the worst, but as your team keeps winning the memory of prior beatings starts to fade.
With dreams of spending New Years in Pasadena, it was finally time for the Civil War. Where against my better judgment, I decided to switch up my usual game gear and added not only an orange thermal, but also an orange vest (instead of the usual black). And then it happened . . . my team fell off the wagon. Hard. It was like a sucker punch to the gut for 3 solid hours. With visions of palm trees quickly fading, fans were quick to blame themselves. All around me I heard fans berating themselves for wearing a different hat or for wearing black instead of orange or for wearing a new t-shirt instead of the one that had brought the team luck earlier in the season.
And thus the cycle begins again. As fans, we’ll cheer for the Beavs during the Sun Bowl, buy more orange clothes as the college football gear goes on sale, and wait anxiously to buy our season tickets once again next spring. When August 2009 rolls around, the memory of Rose Bowl hopes will have faded and we’ll start the caravan back down to Corvallis in hopes that this time, this year, this team will not hurt us as they have in the past. And next year I will not be switching my game outfits.
About two years ago, I got sucked into the world of college football – namely Oregon State football. My guy friends all had season tickets, and since they had extras, more often than not I found myself spending my weekends in Corvallis. This year I bought my very own season ticket and joined in the insanity that is being a Beaver fan.
For the most part, being a Beaver fan is like being in an abusive relationship. They have had a number of bad (ok, terrible) seasons, but the last few years have been exciting to watch. This year, after starting the season with three losses on the road, they beat USC in the second most exciting game I’ve seen them play (the first being when they beat USC in ’06). From that point on, the Beavs controlled their own destiny – win out and they would go to the Rose Bowl. This is the part where the abusive spouse is on the wagon. Things are going great, and you really believe that this time, they have changed. In the back of your mind, you’re still expecting the worst, but as your team keeps winning the memory of prior beatings starts to fade.
With dreams of spending New Years in Pasadena, it was finally time for the Civil War. Where against my better judgment, I decided to switch up my usual game gear and added not only an orange thermal, but also an orange vest (instead of the usual black). And then it happened . . . my team fell off the wagon. Hard. It was like a sucker punch to the gut for 3 solid hours. With visions of palm trees quickly fading, fans were quick to blame themselves. All around me I heard fans berating themselves for wearing a different hat or for wearing black instead of orange or for wearing a new t-shirt instead of the one that had brought the team luck earlier in the season.
And thus the cycle begins again. As fans, we’ll cheer for the Beavs during the Sun Bowl, buy more orange clothes as the college football gear goes on sale, and wait anxiously to buy our season tickets once again next spring. When August 2009 rolls around, the memory of Rose Bowl hopes will have faded and we’ll start the caravan back down to Corvallis in hopes that this time, this year, this team will not hurt us as they have in the past. And next year I will not be switching my game outfits.
November 11, 2008
Perspective - the state of one's ideas in having a meaningful interrelationship
Not to long ago, I did what everyone across the country is doing and jumped on the Facebook bandwagon. One of the things that surprised me (once I figured out how to work the damn thing) was the number of people that I went to high school with who wanted to be my friend. I must have been better liked than I thought.
It wasn’t just the people that were in my class from high school (all 53 of us), it was people from the grades above and below as well that really surprised me. People that were older than me but I was friends with their siblings or my younger brothers friends. I’m not sure if this is a common thing or if it is one of those special things about small towns, but I’ve found I actually enjoy finding out what people I knew 10 years ago have done with their lives.
A lot of people have left Thompson Falls and have gotten married, had kids, have a good job, you know the “normal” things one does after high school. Something I wasn’t prepared for was the realization that I was an outlier in this world. While I typically have one or two college degrees more than them, I am not married (nor am I close) and am very much still in the “renting” phase regarding kids. [Renting kids: (v.) when one enjoys spending small periods of time with other peoples children but also enjoys being able to give them back when the child screams, cries, smells, or when one gets bored.] The point here being that I really like my life the way it is. It wasn’t what I had planned on, but so far I’m enjoying the way things are working out.
The thing is, while I’m an outlier for many of the people I attended high school with, I’m pretty normal in my Portland social groups. I’m one of the few singles still around, but it’s not a big deal and there are usually a few of us. And very few of my friends have kids yet. I fit very well into my own niche that I’ve carved out here in Portland.
What really surprises me are the people that have chosen either to stay, or to come back to, Thompson Falls. I grew up there, my parents still live there, there are very few jobs, and it is in the middle of nowhere. Seriously, you can’t even buy underwear that doesn’t come in a 6 pack in that town. What on earth is the appeal for these young people to want to move back and raise their families there? I haven’t figured it out yet, but I really like reading the “wall-to-wall” messages on those people’s Facebook pages. The messages where they coordinate lunch or offer to watch the others child and talk about going to the places in town I grew up with.
The life they have chosen is something so totally foreign to me and something I have never wanted for myself. It reminds me though, that there are many paths in life and one isn’t necessarily better than the other, just different. And while I enjoy a glimpse at what life would be like living in Thompson as a young person, it makes me very glad I am right where I am at.
It wasn’t just the people that were in my class from high school (all 53 of us), it was people from the grades above and below as well that really surprised me. People that were older than me but I was friends with their siblings or my younger brothers friends. I’m not sure if this is a common thing or if it is one of those special things about small towns, but I’ve found I actually enjoy finding out what people I knew 10 years ago have done with their lives.
A lot of people have left Thompson Falls and have gotten married, had kids, have a good job, you know the “normal” things one does after high school. Something I wasn’t prepared for was the realization that I was an outlier in this world. While I typically have one or two college degrees more than them, I am not married (nor am I close) and am very much still in the “renting” phase regarding kids. [Renting kids: (v.) when one enjoys spending small periods of time with other peoples children but also enjoys being able to give them back when the child screams, cries, smells, or when one gets bored.] The point here being that I really like my life the way it is. It wasn’t what I had planned on, but so far I’m enjoying the way things are working out.
The thing is, while I’m an outlier for many of the people I attended high school with, I’m pretty normal in my Portland social groups. I’m one of the few singles still around, but it’s not a big deal and there are usually a few of us. And very few of my friends have kids yet. I fit very well into my own niche that I’ve carved out here in Portland.
What really surprises me are the people that have chosen either to stay, or to come back to, Thompson Falls. I grew up there, my parents still live there, there are very few jobs, and it is in the middle of nowhere. Seriously, you can’t even buy underwear that doesn’t come in a 6 pack in that town. What on earth is the appeal for these young people to want to move back and raise their families there? I haven’t figured it out yet, but I really like reading the “wall-to-wall” messages on those people’s Facebook pages. The messages where they coordinate lunch or offer to watch the others child and talk about going to the places in town I grew up with.
The life they have chosen is something so totally foreign to me and something I have never wanted for myself. It reminds me though, that there are many paths in life and one isn’t necessarily better than the other, just different. And while I enjoy a glimpse at what life would be like living in Thompson as a young person, it makes me very glad I am right where I am at.
Soup . . . It's Whats For Lunch
If you asked any of my friends to describe me, picky eater would be on the list of adjectives chosen. It’s not that I make others accommodate me, but often I choose not to eat certain things. With the food world somewhat limited for me, I tend to eat the same things over and over again. Things like soup.
I’ve always loved soup, who knows why, but I eat it a lot. It is a very convenient lunch to bring to school and to work. I only eat half a can a day (one full serving), and I get two days worth of lunches out of one can of soup. Since I am also cheap, I am saving a ton of money on eating a can of soup rather than eating out every day! Like I said, I love soup.
Historically, I ate three types of soup: chicken noodle, minestrone, and split green pea. However I recently ran into a small problem. See, my work recently moved to a different part of town and lets just say the lunch options reflect the surrounding neighborhood. The word to describe the neighborhood and lunch options can be summed up with dismal. Since the move, I have been much better about not going out to lunch with the boys all the time like I did in the previous neighborhood, but that means I have to bring a lunch most days. Which of course leads me back to soup.
When you have next to no options for outside lunches and its winter, soup is a common lunch theme. The problem is that after 5 years of eating the same soups, I am starting to get sick of them. So I decided it was time to branch out of my picky eater mentality and actually try some new soups.
On a recent trip to the grocery store, I spent some time examining the soups in the soup aisle. Who knew there were so many flavors?! Seriously, there was half an aisle of just soup! I grabbed probably six different kinds of soup. Now for most people this wouldn’t be a big deal, but when you’re me, six new flavors is huge.
Today I had the Mexican chicken tortilla. It was delicious! Look at me all growing up, trying new flavors of food. And while the boys still make fun of me for eating half a can of soup for lunch, at least they can stop hassling me for only eating chicken noodle. So many flavors of soup . . . who knew?
I’ve always loved soup, who knows why, but I eat it a lot. It is a very convenient lunch to bring to school and to work. I only eat half a can a day (one full serving), and I get two days worth of lunches out of one can of soup. Since I am also cheap, I am saving a ton of money on eating a can of soup rather than eating out every day! Like I said, I love soup.
Historically, I ate three types of soup: chicken noodle, minestrone, and split green pea. However I recently ran into a small problem. See, my work recently moved to a different part of town and lets just say the lunch options reflect the surrounding neighborhood. The word to describe the neighborhood and lunch options can be summed up with dismal. Since the move, I have been much better about not going out to lunch with the boys all the time like I did in the previous neighborhood, but that means I have to bring a lunch most days. Which of course leads me back to soup.
When you have next to no options for outside lunches and its winter, soup is a common lunch theme. The problem is that after 5 years of eating the same soups, I am starting to get sick of them. So I decided it was time to branch out of my picky eater mentality and actually try some new soups.
On a recent trip to the grocery store, I spent some time examining the soups in the soup aisle. Who knew there were so many flavors?! Seriously, there was half an aisle of just soup! I grabbed probably six different kinds of soup. Now for most people this wouldn’t be a big deal, but when you’re me, six new flavors is huge.
Today I had the Mexican chicken tortilla. It was delicious! Look at me all growing up, trying new flavors of food. And while the boys still make fun of me for eating half a can of soup for lunch, at least they can stop hassling me for only eating chicken noodle. So many flavors of soup . . . who knew?
November 3, 2008
Run-a-holic
It has been 72 days since I had my last fix. No, I’m not talking about drugs or alcohol, I am talking about running. I ran injured for most of last year, trying to train and run in Hood to Coast. Now I am trying to rehab my injuries and I think it might kill me.
I don’t have that traditional runners build and I’m not a speed demon but for as long as I can remember, I’ve been able to run. I go through phases where I’m running more to train for an event and then running less just for exercise, but I’ve always run. This past summer I managed to injure myself to the point that I could hardly walk, much less run.
The body is an amazing thing though. Before my big event this past summer, I was in serious pain and couldn’t run at all the two weeks leading up to it. I was a little worried about competing on an injury plagued body, but figured it was only a short 30 hours of my life. You can do just about anything for only 30 hours. I ran the event fabulously (for me) and met all of my personal goals I had set ahead of time. And I haven’t been able to run since. 72 days later it still hurts to walk.
The main problem is my IT band, this giant tendon thing that attaches at your hip and knee. Apparently it gets pissed off when you try and use it too much. So now I’m done with one month of PT and headed back for more, down an MRI, and my cortisone shot is starting to kick in. Not only is rehabbing my leg driving me crazy because I can’t run, it is damn expensive!
I miss running. When runners pass me on the street I want to tell them to appreciate what they are able to do. I want to tell the runners at the gym, “Hey, I run too! I’m just walking because I don’t have a choice.” I never actually tell them this because it would make me sound crazy to a stranger on the street. Yet I have the impression that anyone who has had to rehab an in jury before would get it.
I didn’t used to categorize myself as a runner because I don’t run marathons and I don’t run 20 races a year. Turns out, that’s not what makes you a runner. It’s that runners high you get so that you can’t wait to go back and do it again. It’s the run that feels so good it doesn’t even matter that you are running through sleet and you can’t feel your fingers. It’s that itchy restlessness you get in your legs when you’re stuck at work and can’t wait to run. And apparently it’s being frustrated to the point of tears because it has been 72 days and it will likely be 72 more. Sigh.
I don’t have that traditional runners build and I’m not a speed demon but for as long as I can remember, I’ve been able to run. I go through phases where I’m running more to train for an event and then running less just for exercise, but I’ve always run. This past summer I managed to injure myself to the point that I could hardly walk, much less run.
The body is an amazing thing though. Before my big event this past summer, I was in serious pain and couldn’t run at all the two weeks leading up to it. I was a little worried about competing on an injury plagued body, but figured it was only a short 30 hours of my life. You can do just about anything for only 30 hours. I ran the event fabulously (for me) and met all of my personal goals I had set ahead of time. And I haven’t been able to run since. 72 days later it still hurts to walk.
The main problem is my IT band, this giant tendon thing that attaches at your hip and knee. Apparently it gets pissed off when you try and use it too much. So now I’m done with one month of PT and headed back for more, down an MRI, and my cortisone shot is starting to kick in. Not only is rehabbing my leg driving me crazy because I can’t run, it is damn expensive!
I miss running. When runners pass me on the street I want to tell them to appreciate what they are able to do. I want to tell the runners at the gym, “Hey, I run too! I’m just walking because I don’t have a choice.” I never actually tell them this because it would make me sound crazy to a stranger on the street. Yet I have the impression that anyone who has had to rehab an in jury before would get it.
I didn’t used to categorize myself as a runner because I don’t run marathons and I don’t run 20 races a year. Turns out, that’s not what makes you a runner. It’s that runners high you get so that you can’t wait to go back and do it again. It’s the run that feels so good it doesn’t even matter that you are running through sleet and you can’t feel your fingers. It’s that itchy restlessness you get in your legs when you’re stuck at work and can’t wait to run. And apparently it’s being frustrated to the point of tears because it has been 72 days and it will likely be 72 more. Sigh.
November 2, 2008
The 'Tweener Stage of Life
Recently I have found myself in what I refer to as a “tweener” spot. Normally this term is used for those not quite human beings we call pre-teens, but in my own life, I find myself between the major life steps. I am done with grad school and have about five years of work experience under my belt. I consider myself pretty successful at life thus far. What I do not currently have, much to the disgrace of some of my friends, is a guy.
I recently went to a bachelorette party where I found myself the only non-engaged non-married girl in the group. Which as it turns out, is my own personal version of hell since apparently all that group of girls could talk about was weddings, marriage, and babies. Oh, and did I mention that the bride-to-be asked all her other friends if they knew of anyone for me to date? Say it with me. H-E-L-L.
What I realized throughout the night is how much I appreciate another group of friends I have. The ones who accept me and love me regardless of if I have a date or not. The ones that don’t hassle me about guys and realize that I have to go about life in my own heidi-like way. I was feeling frustrated that the two girls at this party that I thought of as really good friends, somehow thought that I was lacking or unhappy because I wasn’t seeing anybody.
What I wanted them to understand was that someday, I probably will get married. In the meantime, I don’t find my life lacking for much due to the lack of a guy. It is okay that I don’t have a date because I don’t want to settle for the crazies that they all want to introduce me to. What I don’t enjoy is the feeling like they are almost embarrassed that they still have a single girl friend. It is okay that I am single. I’m happy with life and shouldn’t that be the most important thing?
Seeing my two friends, who I don’t get to visit with often, wasn’t quite the reunion I was hoping for. What it made me realize though, was how great my current primary group of friends are. My guy friends who never question my lack of a date, my couple friends who always invite me to be the third wheel and wouldn’t have it any other way, and the group as a whole that is supportive of each others personal life decisions, whether we agree with them or not. That is friendship.
I recently went to a bachelorette party where I found myself the only non-engaged non-married girl in the group. Which as it turns out, is my own personal version of hell since apparently all that group of girls could talk about was weddings, marriage, and babies. Oh, and did I mention that the bride-to-be asked all her other friends if they knew of anyone for me to date? Say it with me. H-E-L-L.
What I realized throughout the night is how much I appreciate another group of friends I have. The ones who accept me and love me regardless of if I have a date or not. The ones that don’t hassle me about guys and realize that I have to go about life in my own heidi-like way. I was feeling frustrated that the two girls at this party that I thought of as really good friends, somehow thought that I was lacking or unhappy because I wasn’t seeing anybody.
What I wanted them to understand was that someday, I probably will get married. In the meantime, I don’t find my life lacking for much due to the lack of a guy. It is okay that I don’t have a date because I don’t want to settle for the crazies that they all want to introduce me to. What I don’t enjoy is the feeling like they are almost embarrassed that they still have a single girl friend. It is okay that I am single. I’m happy with life and shouldn’t that be the most important thing?
Seeing my two friends, who I don’t get to visit with often, wasn’t quite the reunion I was hoping for. What it made me realize though, was how great my current primary group of friends are. My guy friends who never question my lack of a date, my couple friends who always invite me to be the third wheel and wouldn’t have it any other way, and the group as a whole that is supportive of each others personal life decisions, whether we agree with them or not. That is friendship.
September 3, 2008
Six Guys, A Girl, and Buffalo Wild Wings
You know when you’re at a restaurant or bar and you see a group of guys walk in with one girl in their midst? I’m that girl. Now some girls would think that I am lucky to be in that position. The other girls out there that hang out with groups of guys know the truth. It is a lot of fun, but you have to put up with a whole lot of crap. Not only do I get picked on, I am also an up close observer to phrases, terminology, and actions that I’m not sure girls should know about. I’ve learned a lot more about guys that I think I ever wanted to know.
I have always enjoyed hanging out with guys more than girls, mostly because they are less emotional and slightly lower maintenance. Plus you can do things like eat wings, watch football, and give each other crap with no hard feelings. That being said, I adore my girl friends as well. But this blog is about the boys.
Here’s the thing, for as much as the guys hassle me and I think sometimes forget that I am actually a girl, they also take care of me. In their own, sometimes odd ways. Since I show up stag to a lot of events, I never have to worry about having a good place to sit. Whoever gets there first grabs my nametag as well as theirs and makes sure I’m at the cool table. They'll go to a ball field and hit grounders at me for an hour so I don't make a fool of myself playing 3rd base for the first time in well . . . lets just say it wasn't last year. They split lunches with me (okay, they eat 1 ½ lunches and I eat ½), I get invited to things even when significant others are not, they make sure I don't get left behind at the tailgate when it's time to go into the game, and they help me move or carry really heavy things.
So all this time I’ve been smug in the fact that I get to hang out with groups of guys and have a good time doing it. Until I had a conversation with my cousin, Greg. It happened to come out that I had a habit of hanging out with mostly guys. At which point Greg informs me that this is obviously my problem on the dating scene. Apparently when guys see a girl in a group of guys, they assume that she is dating one of them. I can assure you that this is not the case. I have no desire to date any of my guy friends (TMI about these guys doesn’t even begin to cover it). This was a huge revelation to me. Why had no one ever told me this before?
Obviously the next step was to do some additional research. Sure enough, every guy I polled (including the guys I hang out with and my own brother) said the same thing. “Well, yeah, why else would a girl be hanging out in a group of guys unless she was dating one of them?” Huh.
Guys, these are the kinds of things you have to tell the single girls that hang out with you. A little less bodily function discussion and a whole lot more imparting of wisdom on the way a guys brain actually works. Seriously.
I have always enjoyed hanging out with guys more than girls, mostly because they are less emotional and slightly lower maintenance. Plus you can do things like eat wings, watch football, and give each other crap with no hard feelings. That being said, I adore my girl friends as well. But this blog is about the boys.
Here’s the thing, for as much as the guys hassle me and I think sometimes forget that I am actually a girl, they also take care of me. In their own, sometimes odd ways. Since I show up stag to a lot of events, I never have to worry about having a good place to sit. Whoever gets there first grabs my nametag as well as theirs and makes sure I’m at the cool table. They'll go to a ball field and hit grounders at me for an hour so I don't make a fool of myself playing 3rd base for the first time in well . . . lets just say it wasn't last year. They split lunches with me (okay, they eat 1 ½ lunches and I eat ½), I get invited to things even when significant others are not, they make sure I don't get left behind at the tailgate when it's time to go into the game, and they help me move or carry really heavy things.
So all this time I’ve been smug in the fact that I get to hang out with groups of guys and have a good time doing it. Until I had a conversation with my cousin, Greg. It happened to come out that I had a habit of hanging out with mostly guys. At which point Greg informs me that this is obviously my problem on the dating scene. Apparently when guys see a girl in a group of guys, they assume that she is dating one of them. I can assure you that this is not the case. I have no desire to date any of my guy friends (TMI about these guys doesn’t even begin to cover it). This was a huge revelation to me. Why had no one ever told me this before?
Obviously the next step was to do some additional research. Sure enough, every guy I polled (including the guys I hang out with and my own brother) said the same thing. “Well, yeah, why else would a girl be hanging out in a group of guys unless she was dating one of them?” Huh.
Guys, these are the kinds of things you have to tell the single girls that hang out with you. A little less bodily function discussion and a whole lot more imparting of wisdom on the way a guys brain actually works. Seriously.
August 7, 2008
Marriage (apparently) = Stability
One of the best things about turning 25 was the significant decrease in the cost of my car insurance. From one tick of the clock to the next, I was suddenly considered a “stable driver.” That made sense to me, since by then I had been driving for 10 years in various conditions and pretty much knew what I was doing (i.e. don’t swerve to miss a dear, turn into the skid, etc.). The next time in my life I was expecting any kind of discount was when I was eligible to join the AARP. Apparently however, car insurance can go down once again WHEN YOU GET MARRIED.
I’m all for the cost of car insurance being higher when you are young – you are just learning how to operate a car, you don’t have a lot of experience behind the wheel, and let’s face it, you’re pretty much an idiot through college. Everyone has done stupid stuff in a car when they were younger, no matter how responsible a person and driver they were. When I was a freshman in high school, we once squeezed 8 girls in a VW bug for a cross town trip. And the bug was missing half the floor!
So the age thing I get, because even I was a stupid driver when I was younger, and I’m generally a pretty responsible person. I am not sure how me being married or not is a reflection on my stability as a person. According to Insurance.com, “Married people are considered safer and more stable because of their new commitment and responsibilities, and this can translate into discounts.”
Here’s the thing, I have the exact same responsibilities as married people do. I have to support myself, pay bills and taxes, and follow the laws, just like they do. And I have to do it on one income. How do two people signing a $50 piece of paper make them more responsible or committed than me, the single person? Or what about the people who choose to live together and not get married? Or what about couples that are not legally allowed to be married?
Stability is something that should be measured by driving records, credit reports, paying taxes, etc. There is no magic stability fairy who shows up on your wedding day to go *poof* now you are stable! If you were a terrible driver before getting married, chances are you will remain a terrible driver afterwards unless you take steps to improve that (and signing a marriage license is not how you become a better driver).
Age is something that is equal to us all. Every year we all get older and at some point, we all turn 25 earning our much desired and (hopefully) warranted decrease in insurance rates. Marriage doesn’t make a person stable and it isn’t equal to everyone. I don’t understand how this isn’t discrimination to a growing population of people who choose not to get married or those who are not legally allowed?
Admittedly, this is one large rant about how I am pissed off that although I am one of the most responsible and stable people I know, I am potentially being discriminated against because I choose not to be married. That being said, if I ever decide to get married, I’m obviously going to try and gets my rates reduced since I will be “safer and more stable” due to my “new commitment and responsibilities”. I’ve been cheap far longer than I’ve been mad about car insurance.
I’m all for the cost of car insurance being higher when you are young – you are just learning how to operate a car, you don’t have a lot of experience behind the wheel, and let’s face it, you’re pretty much an idiot through college. Everyone has done stupid stuff in a car when they were younger, no matter how responsible a person and driver they were. When I was a freshman in high school, we once squeezed 8 girls in a VW bug for a cross town trip. And the bug was missing half the floor!
So the age thing I get, because even I was a stupid driver when I was younger, and I’m generally a pretty responsible person. I am not sure how me being married or not is a reflection on my stability as a person. According to Insurance.com, “Married people are considered safer and more stable because of their new commitment and responsibilities, and this can translate into discounts.”
Here’s the thing, I have the exact same responsibilities as married people do. I have to support myself, pay bills and taxes, and follow the laws, just like they do. And I have to do it on one income. How do two people signing a $50 piece of paper make them more responsible or committed than me, the single person? Or what about the people who choose to live together and not get married? Or what about couples that are not legally allowed to be married?
Stability is something that should be measured by driving records, credit reports, paying taxes, etc. There is no magic stability fairy who shows up on your wedding day to go *poof* now you are stable! If you were a terrible driver before getting married, chances are you will remain a terrible driver afterwards unless you take steps to improve that (and signing a marriage license is not how you become a better driver).
Age is something that is equal to us all. Every year we all get older and at some point, we all turn 25 earning our much desired and (hopefully) warranted decrease in insurance rates. Marriage doesn’t make a person stable and it isn’t equal to everyone. I don’t understand how this isn’t discrimination to a growing population of people who choose not to get married or those who are not legally allowed?
Admittedly, this is one large rant about how I am pissed off that although I am one of the most responsible and stable people I know, I am potentially being discriminated against because I choose not to be married. That being said, if I ever decide to get married, I’m obviously going to try and gets my rates reduced since I will be “safer and more stable” due to my “new commitment and responsibilities”. I’ve been cheap far longer than I’ve been mad about car insurance.
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