All That I Wished For, More Than I Need, Right Where I Want To Be

It was one year ago today that I said goodbye to that beloved employer. The day I mostly spent in a hot apartment, crazed and overwhelmed as two Russian immigrants begrudgingly packed my stuff into the back of Penske moving truck. No one could have prepared them for the stairs up and down to the Hobbit house. Three, or was it four, were there, to share a last lunch with me. Domino's pepperoni pizza, and a 20 oz. Coke. Standing in that small kitchen, sharing what would be the last of our daily ritual I had come to cherish so much. It was so hot on that day...Twenty degrees or more than it is as I write this. It was the day of the last happy hour at the place they knew my order upon arrival. The last time I would be surrounded by the colleagues I had come to call my friends and the wives who joined them. The night where the tears would follow and minutes would pass too soon. That farewell hug from English Andy, the smile and laughter of Steve-O's wife, the Chocolate Martini that Michelle always ordered. Saying goodbye to J.P., and even the Beej. It was there in that place, that I stood in the presence of so many people who a year later I can only help but wonder if they still think of me. I spoke with the husband-formerly-known-as-mine that evening. Telling him that in the morning I would be leaving, that it was finally time for me to follow my dreams. The conversation, just as the thousands before, went from pleasant to accusatory before all was said and done. Unable to be spoiled, it was a night that would go down in true N.A.T. fashion. An impromptu party on Amer's deck, in the house I shared in the first few month's of my fleeing. Nan. J.D., the boss who became my friend, K.L. who brought us 46 Taco's. We partied hard, and we partied well into the night. I still remember, even in my intoxicated haze, the way the sky looked and the way Lexington held on to me one last time.

I arrived in Northern Virginia on May 24, 2007 and in the year that has now come to pass I have had a million moments that look suspiciously like an ordinary life...however, this year has been anything but ordinary.

I learned how to be nothing but who I am, and to be it well. I grew more than I can ever try to convince you to believe. I cried, a lot. I fulfilled a dream. I did it, mostly, by myself. I started to heal, and finally to let it go. I had hard conversations, confronted the past, and took steps to forgive, to be forgiven, and to move forward - a direction that I now realize is so much better suited for me. I felt the wind around me, the sunshine on my face, the smell of the earth, and the wetness that is the rain. I felt alive again. I drank a million bottles of Shiraz, smoked seven million cigarettes, and tried to piece it all together. I took a lot of baths, on Sunday's, in a tub filled with lavender. I read. I watched movies. I longed to go home. Longed for friendly faces, for laughter, for understanding. I lost tens of thousands of dollars by four freaking weeks. I visited a best friend in the hospital when she had her daughter, and celebrated her son's birthday. I got to know my cousins who I now call my friends. I walked around the same block twice a day for 364 days. I made a friend. I received flowers, in abundance, for my birthday. I met a Frenchman who became my best friend. I joined the dub dub, again. I enjoyed being 45-minutes from Perfectville. I got swept off my feet. Fell madly in love. Rode a bike. 17. Freaking. Miles. I ate well. I made more money than I ever thought I would. Visited 100+ townhouses, made 4 offers, and continue to wait for one of them to be mine. I shopped at Trader Joe's, and bought great cheeses, $3 wine, and found the world's most perfect yogurt. I enjoyed the company of my parents, in my hometown, on multiple occasions. I took a road trip to Columbus, and fell in love with him even more. I smiled. I smiled. I smiled. I talked politics and became a champion of Obama, trying to convince anyone who will give me a chance to feel the same. I walked the Mall on a crisp night in November. I reconnected with college friends. I dreamt of worldly travels. I went to LexVegas, three times. Went to Keeneland, and laughed with my twin souls. I went to the Zoo and was told of TL's arrival. I went to Cancun and talked about CC's arrival. I went to work on the anniversary of my grandmother's death and learned Elizabeth had given me a new reason to smile on an otherwise hard day. I rejoiced for their births, and for the women my best friends had become. I became an aunt. I witnessed true selflessness. I cried. I cried. I cried. I had weird and haunting dreams. I reconnected with friends long since lost, via Facebook, and felt life coming full circle. I learned to stop listening to the fear, and to start listening to the the Peace. I witnessed the miracle that is the NKOTB reunion. I counted my blessings. I said an abundance of prayers. I quit smoking, mostly. I got promoted. I was given a second chance at a happy life. I learned who the other woman was. In a roundabout kinda sorta way became the other woman. I witnessed the celebration of two women who committed to each other to live a happy life, to be each other's partner, in good times and in bad. I let memories live in the past, instead of ruling the present. I said I was sorry. I witnessed my sister fulfil her destiny. I didn't go to Europe. I accepted reality. I let myself be happy. I heard the sound of my nephew's cries, I saw his face, I became perpetually starved for more. I believed, again, in true miracles. I started living a life better than I ever thought possible, one with a fantastic man standing with me, arm around me tight to share our journey towards the unknown. I began to live a life fully of laughter, with a bounty of hope, with dreams that are reality, and one most definitely destined for a fairytale ending.

I don't regret any of it.

This year has been anything but ordinary. It's been a year where everything was renewed. Where the fantastic did happen. A date on a calendar that is now an anniversary I will always cherish, that I will forever celebrate. The year where I lived. The year that I laughed.

The year that above all, I finally learned to love myself.

Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh

Did you see them? Well I sure hope you were tuning into the Today Show this morning because if you were relying on me for photographic evidence this probably would not clue you into the fact that my beloved NKOTB are in fact, now middle aged dancing superstars. I swear to you, this is one of the happiest moments in my young 31 years. It all came back! Jon still looks painfully uncomfortable, and Joe/Donnie/Jordan are now even more heavily competeing for the sole spotlight. And then there's sweet Danny. Yeah. Anyway, every die hard fan feels the same sublime wanderlust as they did 17 years ago when they first stole our hearts. OOOH how I can't wait for September 26.

Pay no attention to the double chin.

Ya, That's Right, I'm Not Always A Nice Girl

On my way to the ladies room this afternoon I was once again caught off guard by another person of the female variety in front of me. Now, being that A) this happens a lot and B) that there is no special context here, this shouldn't have come as an alarming event. But what I saw in front of me has inspired me to start a new series on the dusty ol' blog of mine. That and I've seen a more comprehensive collection here recently. This might just solve my inability to blog when the inspiration is in front of me. So, because of today's event, I will now now actually use that handy little label feature and I will lovingly call these tidbits: Stuff That Really Annoys Me. And I vow to try to get photographic evidence when possible.

Stuff That Really Annoys Me: #1 - Khaki Pants and Visible Panty Lines

All I ask is dear Lord, why?

First issue: Khaki pants that are too tight on your butt isn't my problem, however, you have invited me in and made it my problem because you are showing me your unsolicited under garments. I did not ask for this. I did not want to know. I'm sorry that you have not understood that pleats aren't for anyone over a size 0. I'm sorry that the pockets fell off the back and therefore it make your butt look bigger, more heartshaped, than it probably is in real life. Please. For the love of humanity. If you must wear them, wear the full butt panty to avoid the bikini brief-I-see-the-lines-situation. Wear a thong and we eliminate the panty line issue all together. It's one issue we can resolve.

Second issue: You are beyond say, size 6* and you still wear them. I sincerely encourage you to learn directly from a from a former khaki wearer who has seen the error of her ways. These things were simply not made for you and me. I know, I know, a denim jacket and black tee are simply divine paired with a nice stone-khaki hue. Sometimes I am still lured by their charm, trying them on as if I might not be defeated this time. But alas...I do not wear them because I take pity on humanity, I take pity on the woman walking behind me on the way to the ladies room so that I can avoid her look of utter disbelief and disgust. And let's just face it, I do it because my ass, just as your ass, is never going to look good in them. EVER.

*This issue does not apply for women who have no ass (NB-C) because the material cannot cling to the bumps, valleys, or as I so lovingly refer to mine - the divots.

Just In Case You Were Wondering

The answer would be "no," when you ask me if I had yet heard back on either of the two offers I have out on a townhouse. Let me restate for you that it's been approximately FIVE weeks on the first, FOUR almost FIVE on the second. Again, I say...foreclosure homebuying is for the birds.

FBF and I went on a hellacious yet oddly gratifying 17-mile bike ride on Sunday. That is perhaps the last time I don't clarify where and for how long we're going again. Monsieur JF sure has a persuasive nature about him with the gentle reassurances and positive reinforcements. Quite the sly guy he is, you find yourself eight miles from home, with only a prayer and two wheels to get you back to where you came from. It's a good thing I didn't die. Clearly he hasn't quite realized I'm not that into physical activity.

The mama and the papa are coming to the big town this weekend. Well, it's because fantastically fabulous cousin is graduating from William & Mary on Sunday, so we're heading down the devil's highway (aka I-95) to Williamsburg. The mama and the papa are also staying in my 700-sq feet of high rise living on Saturday night. Abby will be delighted and not sure who she should sleep with so that maximum doting and belly rubbing can ensue. I'm not sure 700-sq feet sleeps 3+ dog very comfortably, so that should be interesting. You know, IF I HAD A FREAKING HOUSE OF MY OWN THIS WOULDN'T BE A PROBLEM.

Oh, and I finally got my hair cut last night. It's a weeeeeee bit shorter than I would have liked, seeing as I've spent the last nine months without cutting it, but I am digging it. Went significantly lighter this time because I will not rest until I can finally lay rest to the age old claim that blondes really do have more fun.

Did I mention Slimy, her BFF Erika, and I are going backstage to meet New Kids On The Freaking Block on September 26 in Boston???!!!! Let's just say, we're 31 and we still needed her dad's credit card to make it possible...and it was as frustrating as it was when we were 13 to get the tickets. We've got some bitchin' seats in Chicago too that we could probably sell ya for a cool $400 a pop. Ah, it's good to be a groupie with buying power.

Just two weeks until heading back to Gulfport to visit Vee. NB-C and I are making a quick trip to the hottest place on earth and to see the little one and I finally! get! to! meet! little! TL!!!!
NB-C's latest obsession, Bret Michaels, of Poison fame (evvvverryyyy roooossse has its thhhoorrnnnn) just happens to be playing in Biloxi that same weekend. I wonder if NB-C will show her t*ts? Little CC will be so proud. (Now isn't that great, she named her daughter after CC Deville!)

That was probably a little over the top.

Cheers!

Today Is The Day That Will Forever Remind Me to Make Good Choices

Take it from me, kids. Good decision making and critical judgement skills are two of the most important things your parents ever teach you. My advice is to think long and hard before you marry someone who seven years later you look back and can say nothing more than "what the fuck was I thinking?" Be sure to arduously weigh the pros and cons, and if there is even one con that exceeds the list of pros, run for your life. Save yourself. Though you may not be able to see it now, those parents of yours sure are right when they tell you not to ever settle for less than what you want, deserve, hope, or dream of. From someone who knows, life is too short to get married just so you can eat the cake.