teacher's pet

Remember in junior high when the teacher would leave the room and assign one person to be in charge?

Yeah, that was me. I was the kid that always raised her hand with the answer, who did her homework on time, who didn't ever get in trouble.

Kids mocked me so much; I was definitely teased for being the teacher's pet. Which always confused me. It isn't like I was trying to outshine anyone, I just knew the answers, had parents to monitored my homework completion, and had a fear of confrontation and getting in trouble. It always struck me as strange that I was getting in hot water for just being myself.

As many people are, I was insecure and had lowered self-esteem for my late teens and early twenties. Also I was very lost as far as finding a vocation went. I tried my hand at many career paths. Over time I discovered was that even though many of those vocations were not for me, I could have gone on to succeed in them for many years. Eventually after doing well at so many jobs I gained a confidence that I would succeed - heck kick ass at - just about any profession at which I tried my hat.

Think about it. In college you are not so much taught actual information as how to gauge the professor to spit the facts out in the way he or she deems appropriate. You learn how to navigate social strata and red tape. You learn that hard work only is rewarded when it is noticed, and that if you raise your hand at just the right times or can influence when you are called upon you will always be in the top echelon.

So throughout my many jobs I have learned to work hard and sing my own praises. I have learned not to ask for rewards but ask for attention and solutions. I am a go to girl, and a pleasant and socially adept one at that.

At the little junket I just went on I was getting a lot of praise and regards for my work from the higher ups. All the top executives of my company made a point to let me know how well I am doing and how important my work is. There was even a hug or two involved. Honestly it was very flattering, and I could feel my head swelling a bit. But it didn't stay that way for long, because I know a secret.

I'm not doing well for my company, and really I'm not doing well for my boss. I am doing well because I know the answers, I carefully monitor my homework, and I'm afraid of confrontation and getting in trouble. I am a professional teacher’s pet.

when it rains it pours

Out of nowhere I have been getting winks and emails from match.com. Lots of em. One has to wonder if I was profiled or sent out in an email or something. Whatever it is, I am talking like ten winks and four emails. That is fourteen people reaching out to me, as compared to maybe one a month for as long as I can remember.

As these things go, the majority are tossed aside right away. Rule of thumb - just because they are interested in you does not mean that you are interested in them.

For a while it looked like I had a pretty good lead. Another hells kitchen resident and I were emailing back and forth, fun and easy. His profile looked fine. Funny guy, talked about his perfect first date and how it involved flying to Vegas, playing tables all night followed by several hours of sensual lovemaking (not all at once), and then flying home to collapse from exhaustion for at least three days. Cute, funny, creative. Divorced, but as I have only heard warnings about dating divorced people I was willing to test this first hand.

Our email exchange started off well enough. He sent me something at 5:30 am, and in response I wanted to know why in gods name he would be up that early. Luckily he was just getting in from a night playing poker with friends/business associates.

That's nice, he has friends and does things with them. Good sign.

The emails continued at which point we started to discuss our plans for the weekend. I mentioned that I had a bar night planned and a race coming up, then asked what he was up to.

Well, he had been trying to get some friends to rally and go to AC for the weekend.

Hmmmm... What kind of person goes to AC for the weekend? A familiarity with AC, all night playing poker...crap that perfect first date wasn't a joke, it was for real! Super gambling man, SO not my cup of tea. Kicked to the curb baby.

There are some more boys with potential to come. I have a date with trivia boy set up for next Wednesday. Also I am mid-email conversation with brain guy, and honestly it has been the easiest flowing conversation via match so far. We will see if an actual meeting comes to fruition past the initial niceties.

Looks like the year of dating is in high gear!

sharing

You know how the other day I mentioned that if you are within range of other apple computers you can see shared playlists? The key to this is at some point you need to assign what playlists are private and which ones are shared.

This seems to be true for pictures too. And it also seems that I have access to many wireless systems from here on my living room couch. Opening my iPhoto, I noticed a shared photo album. With a name, Paul M******. What does it contain? Delightful birthday pics? Puppies and kittens frolicking in fields of flowers?

Gay porn. Lots and lots of naked men spreading their cheeks and their lips in all kinds of consensual fun. Rather a surprise, I must admit. Not that I have stopped looking through the 1,144 pictures...

Mother of lot there are a lot of very built naked men out there.

business trip

The next three days I will be out of the office, on a work junket. I call it a junket because I will spend two and a half days out of the state for a one-hour warehouse tour and a meeting that will last an hour and a half. Oh, and then there are the two cocktail hours with subsequent dinners, and an afternoon at the spa.

Even though I am not an executive, somehow I have gotten a short ride on the perk bus. And no getting off until I am good and hung over.

Real executives get rides all the time - corporate cars, corporate expense accounts, all kinds of free meals. One of those great ironies of life that the people with more money are empowered to spend even less. Like super movie stars getting swag at award shows. The rich stay richer.

It has been two years since this event has taken place, and I was fortunate enough to get invited to the last one. One thing that saved me from a potentially awkward situation was knowing a foolproof dirty joke. So I probably should get one for my arsenal just in case. Anyone have any? If you are shy you can always just send to my email address. See, that way if someone higher in power tells one then you can put them at ease by joining in the foray. Be one of the guys, so to speak.

Just to be reciprocal, the last foolproof joke was:

A child walks in on his parents having sex, and is upset. The mother had been on top, so when she went to explain she said, "Honey, sometimes daddy's tummy gets too big, so mommy hops on top to make it go back down."
The child thinks for a moment, and looks confused, "That's silly mommy! Another woman comes over twice a week to blow it back up!"

What can I say; even I couldn't ruin that one.

so many toys

Okay, now I have this supercharged computer all organized there is fun to be had!!!

First of all? Remember the bachelorette party? Photos!!!!

unsettled

It has been done! I am the proud new owner of a MacBook, in white. Making the final color decision was a tough one, the black was matte and the white shiny, so both would show grime of some sort.

The clincher was the glowing apple. White glows, black doesn't. I love the shining beacon of my apple love.

Unfortunately the joy of my new baby has not settled in. Because I have not finished setting it up. There are widgets to download, photos to upload, cables to buy to make my speaker system wireless, customization to be done. Seriously I considered calling out of work today so I could stay home and put everything in order. Today I am twitchy in anticipation, completely uncomfortable knowing my computer sits alone at home unpersonalized.

Seems my type A side is getting stronger as I get older. Drat.

point of view

You know, I haven't told you a good funny rockstar story in a while. This is an oldie, but goodie. Really old, actually.

I may have mentioned once or twice that I discovered at some point an innate sibling rivalry with my brother. As I have matured it has lessened, but that is something that took time. Oh so much time.

Whenever I describe my relationship that I have with my brother, I always refer to an incident that occurred when I was three and he was four. Katie was just a twinkle in my dad's eye. (Oh please not in my mom's as well, I can only imagine so much sexuality between my parents, urgh.)

We went as a family strawberry picking. Some farm somewhere on a dirt road. The parental units were happily(?) scoring some fruit while my brother and I played nicely on our own.

See, we had discovered some kind of drainage pipe that stuck up a bit above the dirt road. And what is plentiful on any dirt road? Rocks. Lots and lots of rocks.

So I started to throw rocks at the pipe. Fun stuff for kids. My brother decided to go behind the pipe and egg me on.

Not a good idea.

Here I am, playing fine on my own, and my brother has to edge in on my fun. He kept saying "Bigger rocks! Bigger rocks!".

This just pissed me off.

Very very clearly I remember at that point picking up the biggest rock I could heft (at three years old maybe not so big), aiming for my poor brother's noggin and.....

Making solid contact.

At this point the memory stops, probably because it involved lots of blood and an emergency room visit for poor Pete - including xrays.

Good times. Also good foreshadowing of my success in sports and his lack thereof. (Oops, sibling rivalry reared its head there, didn't it?)

Yet to this day when the story resurfaces he still insists that I was aiming for the pipe. Even after hearing me tell the story many times.

Do you see a pattern? Hmmmm.

low expectations

At some point I read that Running Scared was worth seeing because of the ending. Of this I was very doubtful, from the previews it looked like just another mob/bad guy movie. Boring

Let me tell you, this is a prime example of when previews TOTALLY give you a misperception of the movie. It was a brilliant look into the dark underside of human nature, and elegantly portrays the beauty that still can be found within. Really, this movie was gorgeous.

And here I just rented it to catch a glimpse of Paul Walker's abs. Not that I was disappointed in that. It is just that the movie was so good I almost forgot to notice. How good it was definitely was heightened by how atrocious I expected it to be, so sadly you all may not have the same reaction when you view it.

The ending is kick ass though. Just sayin.

drool

Okay, you guys totally talked me into the MacBook. So as a precursor to my actual purchase I was browsing its specs, and OH MY GOD:

Budget conscious travel
Say you and your friends go on spring break. Not only can you share a hotel room, but you can share its Internet connection. How? Just plug in your MacBook and set up the Net connection. Open up System Preferences and turn on Internet sharing. Now your friends can connect over AirPort to your Mac and out to the Net. In a matter of minutes, everyone can post a photo blog entry to .Mac.

Pretty darn nifty, eh? But wait, it gets better...

Café culture
Take your study session to the local hotspot. Chances are, you’ll be able to connect to the Internet for free, or nearly free. Just take a look at the AirPort menu to see what's available. So you can do research for your next anthropology paper. Of course, taking a glance at the iTunes sharing menu will give you some data of another kind. Like if there’s anyone who shares your taste in music. Be sure to set up your shared playlists to convey just the right message.

Uh, yeah, you totally can play other people's shared music if they are in Bluetooth range.

That is not the last of it, but I can't discuss any more or my head will explode. I am experiencing Apple Consumer lust, and have no idea how I will sleep tonight.

Or maybe I should just bite the bullet and visit the 24/7 apple store a few blocks away? Heh heh heh.

game on!

I woke up this morning and felt like a million bucks. Guess my body likes a couple days of only liquids, what can I say.

Or maybe it had to do with my terrific speed training session the night before. My run was awesome.

Fortuitously, right off this runners high the signup for the first ever NYC Half Marathon started today. At noon sharp. The entries are limited to 10,000 people, (in comparison the NYC Marathon has approx 30,000, most regular road races about 3,000-5,000) so I put a reminder on my calendar.

At noon exactly Spaghetti gave me a call, asking if I was going to sign up. She wanted me to talk her in to running the race as well, and I was more than happy to oblige.

The server was so busy it literally took over an hour for me to get through to register, but I did and I'm in!!!

I am really excited (obviously), it is sponsored by Nike so there should be some neat free goodies, and of course being the first ever makes it fun as well. It is exactly half way to my training for the NYC Marathon itself, and the mileage fits perfectly in my plan. But of course I'm sure that was part of the plan when they organized the damn thing.

The course is pretty different than the Marathon, as well as other road races.

Yaaaaaay!!!

repetition

I have said it before and I will say it again.

My body is my enemy. It hates me, it must to always thwart me so. Damn stomach still hurts. Fortunately not enough to send me to the hospital, but just enough to keep me worried that it will.

Stupid intestines.

biased

Six months into working at Tuscan the celebrities were still coming in. You all know abut my really big celebrity thing. This story I don't tell as often. Probably because it is shorter and I prefer to talk for a while if I have an audience.

As servers are known to do, when I had down time I would stroll up to the host desk and check things out. Sometimes to socialize, most of the time to get a sense of when the night would wind down.

To access the host desk you could not walk directly to it from the floor. You had to walk around a wall of banquettes, underneath a walking bridge to the upstairs bar. There was an opening, like a service bar that you could lean over or on and chat for a spell. Small but functional.

Anyhoo, as this was a swank place sometimes there were LARGE floral arrangements around. At the time that my story took place there was a big fern/pine tree/green leafy concoction in the host window.

It was late at night on a school night; I had worked the day job and it was coming to the end of the night at the second job. Five coffees coursed through my veins, keeping me slaphappy. So for a laugh I lean my head into the host window, and the leafy green thing covers my noggin giving me a fun green floppy wig.

I go with it. I start hamming it up, acting silly saying "Look at me, green hair! La la la! What pretty hair, it is such a pretty color!"

The hosts are laughing, I keep going, and then I notice that a customer picking up his coat from the coat check has also noticed my act. We lock eyes, and he is laughing. Oh crap, he is hot. And I totally know who he is.

Tom Everett Scott, from An American Werewolf in Paris. And did I mention that he was TOTALLY hot?

All I could do was emit a quiet "Heh, hi", nod my head, and hightail it outta there. Boy was I embarrassed.

Yes, you heard my right, I was embarrassed. This totally hot actor caught me acting like a fool, and I didn't even have the grace to go with it. ARGH!

Out of curiosity I have been checking him out on his new TBS TV show, Saved. I have to say, I am really enjoying it. This show is pretty darn good! Good enough for me to tape and watch a second time immediately after it finishes. Just like Grey’s Anatomy.

Yep, I’m totally hooked. Not that I am a little prejudiced or anything, having a mad crush on the lead actor. What can you do? His being responsible for one of the very few embarrassing moments of my life creates a bond not easily broken. Kismet people, kismet.

evil diet

A few weeks ago I picked up The Fat Smash Diet because it came up on a bestseller list, and after some research online I was intrigued. I always have liked diets that don’t use math. Just eat unlimited of x, y, and z, that’s what I like.

So I started this thing last Wednesday. It consists of four phases, and I have coined the first one the almost vegan phase. You can eat as many fruits and vegetables as you want, excluding potatoes and avocadoes. You can have up to two cups of brown rice, 3 tblsp low fat salad dressing, one cup oatmeal, 4 egg whites, and/or two 6oz servings of low fat yogurt a day. No meat, no bread, no white rice, no cheese, and no nuts. For protein you can have beans, lentils, and tofu.

Really I like my fruits and veggies, so I figured I could handle it for nine days. Or so I thought.

Seems the diet really works. Too well. It went and hurt my stomach so I have not been able to eat all day today. My tummy is rebelling. Fiber is good for some people, seems not to be the case for me.

All day my guts have been sore. Obviously I’m going to have go back to regular calorie/points counting. Really I am hoping I don’t have to go on a liquid fast, my training is gearing up as the official marathon training steadily approaches.

So the fat smash? Great if you don’t care about regular intestinal function. Roight.

The fun question is – do I wait for the digestion pains to subside, or train through it? Is exercise better for my innards? I suppose it is better to test it out now, that way if I put myself out of commission for a couple of days I won’t lose ground, as opposed to losing marathon training time.

For the sake of experimentation and getting the worst out of the way, I’ll hit the gym tonight for a light run. Soon the truth will be known whether or not exercise aids in bodily functionalities other than the cardiovascular.

Just consider me your personal guinea pig.

honest to goodness

The number one search that brings hits to my blog is the question "what does ignorance is bliss mean?"

As I am the analogy queen, I would have to propose that you imagine that an embarrassing situation happens to you - say, a line of snot is hanging out of your nose, your fly is open with your bright fuchsia underwear sticking out, or your skirt is tucked into your panty hose. Now imagine you catch this potentially horrendous action in some elevator door mirror, before anyone noticed. Whew! Dodged that bullet!

Are you better off knowing that the security guards monitoring the elevator cameras watched the whole thing on close-up and then sent it along to eventually become the number one forward on the web? Would you rather not ever find out about the video?

This is an over simplification really. This cliché had many layers. I personally just like how ironic it truly is. You can never know how blissful you are in ignorance until you lose it. Awesome.

Growing up we are taught that it is bad to lie. I can remember being a child tossing and turning in bed at night, sure that I was doomed to the fires of hell because of a deception. Really, I was sure that I was going to go to sleep and wake up deep in the fires of Hades, eventually going to far as to call my dad in to my room to confess.

Now that is some deep-rooted fear. Damn Catholicism. I suppose that whole child's bedtime prayer containing "if I should die before I wake" didn't help any either.

As an adult we are informed that honesty is not necessarily always the best policy. We are taught the value of a white lie. Really, if you are at an event and a friend's shirt is atrocious, why cause suffering and say so? Or if the pimple on the end of someone's nose makes him or her look like a circus clown and they ask if it is noticeable - we don't think twice about lying through our teeth to ease their mind.

My mother never was really good at the whole white lie thing. She was honest to a fault. As I was raised by her it wasn't until I was older that sometimes it is better to hold back, some things need not be spoken.

Knowing when to tell the truth has always been a struggle for me. One of my main motivators in life is to be a pleasant person, to be kind to others.

(Ironic that I live in a city where the simplest act of kindness involves ignoring others' existence, but I digress.)

So I have approached many of my friends and asked, is it really altruistic to tell people the truth? Not that it is always easy to be honest with people. Sometimes it is the hardest thing out there to do, but I tend to fall back on my upbringing, which leads me innately to believe enlightenment is the key to happiness.

Thus the irony. Once you are truthful with someone you may sleep well at night, but will the person you divulged to do the same? Have you just relieved yourself of a burden that would have been kinder for you to shoulder?

Really, the truth may set you free but is it worth it if you imprison someone in your stead?

decisions, decisions

How time marches on. My sweet iMac, a spry sixty-four months old dalmation is feeling its age.



I have held out as long as I could, but now I am at the point where I cannot run more than two applications at once. My sweet memory, where have you gone?

As of course I am the ultimate Apple loyal customer and fanatic, I am going to get a Mac. The question is, do I go for an iMac or a MacBook?

Prices are comparable, so cost is not an issue.

The iMac has twice as much memory as the MacBook, but of course the MacBook has the portability advantage.

For grad school I will need to have a portable. (Yes I still plan on going I just have to actually apply and get in. Minor details).

If I was to get the iMac I could use it as a replacement for my TV. The world's oldest TV, with a pull button turn on and twist for volume control. Remote control volume? What is that? But if I was to get the iMac and use it for this function shouldn't I definitely go for the 20-inch option?

Literally every day I change my mind on what I want to get. Portable people, how much do you really carry the thing around? Really how often do you walk that thing out of your home? And you home desktop people, do you ever wish you could take it with you? I want to hear what you my peers have to say on these things, what do you love and hate about your computers? I will take comments from PC people, although I feel a deep sense of pity for your Apple-less ness.

Oh, iMac or MacBook, who will be the winner?

just super

Now I know we all are eagerly anticipating this movie. Like we all have not been drooling for months. Awsomeness guaranteed.

But hold on now, there is more cinematic brilliance to behold.

Heh heh heh.

metamorphosis

More fun and adventure from last week. I told you a lot happened.

The day after seeing the Michigan Ex, I was out in Kzoo with Kzoo Jen at Bells Brewery. Mmmmmm Bells beer. So good. And at the brewery so cheap. Seriously, two fifty for a sixteen-ounce glass that you get to drink in a spacious outdoor area!

Anyhoo, he called me with a request to meet up again for lunch the next day, two days after we had seen each other. I agreed to see him, figured maybe he had read my blog and wanted to talk about what I had perceived to be on his mind.

Thus I drove out to the east side of the state, an extra hour out of my way, and showed up on his doorstep. I volunteered him to help me plan and gather the mixers for the wedding, not a small task since I was to provide all soda, for mixers and not. We are talking lots and lots of liquids. Really I'm lucky he did, there were two grocery carts full of beverages.

After the errand was run, we had a nice lunch in Royal Oak, the city where we worked together at the Mongo.

During this visit I felt much more comfortable than in the one two days before. Light, airy, cheery. Conversation flowed pretty well. I even asked him how dating has been, and discussed my social life. He was hesitant in his answers about the long-term relationship he had been in since our breakup, but eventually he talked a bit about it. But really that was all. If he had something to say it remained unsaid.

Funny thing is, I got my closure. On the drive out to Kzoo after seeing him, all I could remember were the good times we had together, what had made us work. On my drive back to meet him for lunch I seemed to only think about the bad times. It became very clear to me that I am not the same person that I was when we dated.

When we were together I offered up a lot of compromises. Important word being offered. I put off my move to New York to be with him. I agreed to move to Ann Arbor so when we lived together we would be closer to his school (which he attended intermittently.) As my craving to move out of Michigan grew, he agreed to move with me. To New York. Oh, no, maybe he couldn't do New York, what about Boston? What about Denver? I always acquiesced, like in Rent - today for you, tomorrow for me. If he wasn't ready to go to New York with me as of yet then I would live with him wherever until he was.

Until he said he had to live in Idaho. And he could not compromise for me. After how willing I had been to bend for him I was understandably hurt, and when he would not vary in his plans I hightailed it to Manhattan and have been here ever since.

One of those strange lessons I have learned in life is that I have been wrong to expect people to give me something just because I gave the like first. This has been taught to me over and over, and has been a hard lesson to learn. Just because I was willing to compromise my dreams and my drives did not mean he had to reciprocate. My assumption was the error, not his inability to meet it.

The reason I feel closure? I am in love with something else now. New York. I love everything about this city, and adore living and working here. Deep inside of me I know that I am not that girl sacrificing one love for another anymore, I have one life that I have chosen and that has chosen me. I cannot offer to leave, cannot bear to compromise my heart that is so taken.

Sure, one can wonder what would happen if the Michigan Ex was to move here. But why? His life in Michigan is exceptionally full. He volunteers at Cranbrook, which he loves, and is ecstatic about starting his Masters degree (three years worth) at U of M. That is what I meant about our paths diverging and not meaning to cross again. His road is ever changing and growing, but leading back to our home state. Mine does the same but to New York City.

I almost hate Sex in the City for saying it first. Bastards.



(View from my apartment window)

to hope or not to hope?

I had a bit of a surprise waiting for me in Detroit when I went home last week. Seems they went and cleaned up for the Super Bowl.

Now, we all know Detroit did its best to put on its dress suit and shine its shoes for the mass media influx. What I did not anticipate was a lasting effect.

Katie and Scho's wedding photographer, Linda, recently had moved into one of the newly renovated luxury lofts on Woodward Avenue, in the heart of Downtown. The same Woodward I drove through over the past two Xmases and mourned. A mere six months ago it was still a hollow, dirty, broken down shell. Last week the street was clean and nearly rejuvenated.

Walking into Linda's place, I was floored. Gorgeous exposed brick, high ceilings, plush elevators and hallways, really an astounding space. If still in Motown I would lust after such an apartment. Hell, I lust after it now but here. The building is fully populated and merely lacking a good local grocery store (they dream of Whole Foods) After being blown away by Linda's place, we strolled past the Detroit Opera House and sparkling new YMCA to the Detroit Brewery for dinner.

There is still a long way for the City to go - the further you get off of Woodward the grungier the streets get, and the pedestrian traffic is still almost non existent. But having people, yuppies with big disposable incomes at that, choosing to move in down there means a lot. To renovate the city you need to have people living there. It was the white flight that really put the stake in the heart of the city, and getting money living down there is necessary to get the city back.

The real challenge is to get families to live there by choice. Until you do, Detroit will be a revolving door for Yuppies until a new trend hits.

But again the quick turnaround and the new interest in living there is something. The question now is can the momentum stay?

In asking Dirk, Dirkette, and the Michigan Ex, they all were doubtful. They believe the Detroit politic is lackluster and too filled with pork and greed to actually really get the job done.

So I remain saddened by Detroit in spite of its recent efforts. I was telling someone I wish for so much of the city, its failure to live up to my ideals just breaks my heart time and again. Damn those casinos, for instance. Just damn them.

If only people would take the example of Indian Village and really rejuvenate the neighborhoods.... three blocks of stately expansive homes kept to their prime by a strong community base. That is where the children could live.

Again, so much to dream for but so little hope.

the speech

I gotta say, it was quite a week. Without much free time I didn't really get a chance to blog about it all, so I may be playing catch up for a while. But at the very least I have to start off with my speech at the wedding.

The wedding itself was beautiful. Sunny and pleasant weather, serene in the remote country location. The bride looked amazing, the groom dapper. During the 15-minute ceremony you could see the groom getting choked up, and the bride almost went with him.

We did the receiving line, and then hit the bar and the appetizers.

Oh, and the shots. My mischievous cousin Joe was there, harbinger of tequila doom. I did two shots within fifteen minutes. Then the caterers asked if they should start pouring the champagne for the toast. I nodded.

At this time Andy the best man came up to discuss how the speeches would go down. We agreed he would go first and I would go next. No one else was interested in speaking so this would be simple. Could have been the fact that there were 110 people and no microphone that discouraged others, just maybe.

I got everyone's attention and silenced the room, and Andy got started.

Let me tell you, he did a FABULOUS job. The speech was written down, well thought out and prepared. It called out all the cool funny things about Katie and Scho. Really, this guy nailed it.

Yeah, at this point I was a little nervous. There was not much meat to my speech, and I had just composed it a while earlier. But I think I had the sentimentality to bring it.

He finished speaking, and I stepped up. Below is a paraphrasing of my own speech; memory and tequila may change a detail or two, so please forgive me:

When Katie told me last year that Scho had popped the question; I realized I might have to give a speech at their wedding. That had me worried, as you all know I am very shy and hate speaking to large groups of people.

*Pause for laughter*

In thinking of what I could talk about, I have to think back to when I was about three and a half years old and found out my mother was pregnant with a younger brother or sister. My brother wanted a brother, and I wanted a sister.

The competition was ON. Because obviously my strong will and competitive streak could effect the outcome of my mother's pregnancy. Of course.

Obviously as the time came, it turned out my mother had a little girl, and I had a sister. I had won.

The thing is, I really did win.

*This is where I start to choke up for real*

I won because I got Katie as a younger sister. Such a sweet, loving, caring generous person. We are so lucky to have her here, especially having almost lost her so recently.

*Still choking up, fanning my face to JUST HOLD IT TOGETHER*

Really I couldn't be luckier to have Katie in my life.

And then she went and met Mike.

*Roll the eyes, wait for laughter*

Here is this guy, car racing, game with tevas spanking friends, living in sin, occasionally singing songs from Pirates of Penzance in public.

*Everyone calls out for Scho to sing a song, we laugh*

Thing is, Scho is a really great guy. He genuinely loves and cares for my sister, and so again I am so lucky that Katie has found someone who loves her so much and will always be there for her. They are truly a wonderful couple and I couldn’t ask for a better person for my sister.

*Raising my glass*

Here is to Katie and Scho and a long happy life together!

Ho boy, I got choked up so easily. It was very heartfelt though. How often do you get to publicly tell someone how happy you are that they are in your life? Hard to do, but so worth it.

countdown is on

The wedding steadily approaches. Errands have been run, last minute things remembered. Today we pack up to leave for the wedding site. See, the location is three hours west of where Katie and Scho live, so they have to remember everything the first time around.

Not that they are stressing or anything. Ha.

Go time is noon, I have to hit the pavement a little earlier to buy an overdue bday gift for one of my nieces. Oh, and maybe a wedding gift or card might be a good idea as well.

I'll work on my speech tonight. Or tomorrow. Guess I'm a procrastinator, eh>

changes

Coming back to Michigan is always a bit strange. Even though a few physical landmarks change here and there, for the most part it feels to me like time stopped when I left. Yet when I walk into any place that looks the same, it has moved on. The furniture is rearranged, the walls are a different color, and the tenants are brand new.

The same goes for the people I knew here. When I went into the Novi Mongo for Katie’s bachelorette, even though I was one of the trainers that opened the joint all traces of me were gone. No store opening employees were left to remember me, my presence wiped out completely. Time had obliterated my history in six short years.

Friends of course still recall me and go out of their way to spend time with their old buddy, but their lives have moved on most of all. Regular routines, interests, and lifestyles completely foreign to me make up their every day.

Last night I had dinner and later on drinks with some of my old friends, Dev, Dirk and Dirkette. They are all healthy and happy, and luckily the worst they have to worry about are difficult real estate deals and grumpy neighbors. (Well, also worries about work layoffs, but so far so safe) Interesting to hear, intriguing for me to see into these parts of their lives, but completely foreign to me at the same time.

Later on in the evening my Michigan ex came out and joined the remaining party of Dirk, Dirkette, and myself. I didn't realize this until the ex pointed it out, but I have not actually seen him in five years. It is still weird for me to see him because he will always be the ex. I don't know if he will ever get another name. Maybe, but I don't know. I still even get uptight when I consider seeing him again.

Dirk and Dirkette had to bow out by midnight due to it being a school night, reluctantly because they were concerned that I nay need a buffer with the ex. I was okay, conversation flowed smoothly and I was having fun. This was a relief because I have been so reluctant to see him, not wanting to bring up so many old feelings.

After having a couple more drinks at the bar, the ex invited me back to his place. (I can see your collective eyebrows rising now...) Mostly because he has been able to spend the year at a really amazing place, a very adorable, quaint little house on a gorgeous plot of land. It almost feels like the country yet is right in the middle of suburbia.

He looks pretty much the same, he acts pretty much the same, he seems pretty much the same, but I could see the things that had changed in him. A lot of the things he has become were things I had wished he had been when we were together.

At one point I tried to broach the subject about why he wanted to meet in the first place. I explained that although I had been curious about him and his life, I was hesitant to spend time with him because when I think of him I still have that tug of sadness, of loss. He really didn't answer me; he just probed me a little more on my feelings. So I changed the subject back to something light.

Finally after a couple of hours of talk and laughter I left. He mentioned that he was still awake, and then he mentioned it was a long drive back to my parents. But what was I to do, stay? I would only get more confused doing so.

On the drive home I felt the loss again. There had been a reason we had been together, and that had not changed. I was cursing myself for putting myself into this position, such a masochist! It is like playing with a lose tooth - it hurts but you just can't stop prodding.

Waking up this morning I felt much better. Sleep tends to clarify things for me. It hit me that so many things that had developed in his life, the things that made me wonder 'what if', were the very things that draw us father apart. Our lives have gone on to different paths that branch out in different directions and are not meant to cross over again. Although many things about us make those paths look similar, I doubt that they will lead to the same place.

It is funny though, I really felt like he had something he wanted to say to me. I wonder what it was, and if it would have given me more closure, more peace. Or if it was something else entirely whether I would let my mind or my gut dictate my reaction.

Ah, the thing about what ifs, they are just lost story lines drifting off into the unknown.

bachelorette party

Armed with disposable digital cameras with review and delete capacity, (believe it or not cheaper than Polaroid film!!) I sent two teams, one with six women one with five, out on the Novi Marketplace chock full of bars with this agenda:

Katie's Big Night Bachelorette Party Scavenger Hunt

Rules

No proof no points!!!

Each team member must bring in at least five points

Teams can split up, but stay in the same bar

No recruiting non-bachelorette party members for collections

Definition of body shot is to lick salt off neck or chest, take shot from chest (if from man lap), eat lime from mouth

Can tell people cause for collections

Points/Item

1 / One Alcoholic drink consumed by a party member
5 / Collection of ten coasters
5 / Alcoholic shot consumed by a party member (not including body shots)
10 / Picture of a stranger spanking a party member
10 / Collection of phone number (keep in mind we will call to verify later)
10 / Unused condom
20 / Picture of team member mooning camera
25 / Get a stranger to do a body shot off of a member
25 / Picture of a party member spanking a stranger
25 / Picture of team member in men's room
25 / Picture of team member dancing on bar or table
30 / Do a body shot off of a stranger
30 / Special note from stranger on party member's butt
50 / Picture of entire team in men's room
50 / Picture of team member with a stranger sporting a mullet
50 / Lock of chest hair
50 / Picture of a couple making out (tongue must be involved)
50 / Picture of a stranger demonstrating 'old school' dance
75 / Picture with another bachelorette on her big night
75 / Picture of team member sitting on stranger's lap serenading him/her
100 / Picture of a person throwing up
100 / Picture with a uniformed official
150 / Piece of underwear given by a stranger (previously being worn by them)
200 / Getting thrown out of a bar
200 / Picture of the whole team mooning camera
TBD / Bar 'souvenirs'

See, I thought the groups would run from bar to bar, but it seems The Post in Novi was more than large enough and populated enough to accommodate the entire hour and a half hunt.

Both teams performed impressively. The only items that were not hit were 1) bar souvenirs 2) getting thrown out of the bar 3) picture of someone throwing up and 4) picture of team member with a stranger sporting a mullet. Many items were hit several times. For gods' sake we collected three pair of men's underwear between the all of us.

After the game ended one girl in the party did throw up - so much so she was carried back to the hotel. Mental note, don't give extra points for doing shots, seems people drink them instead of beers.

Even though I was responsible for the party, I have to say it went amazingly well. There was full group participation. No one felt left out, everyone contributed. There was much laughter and social interaction. Katie was not excessively made to stand out or be embarrassed, and those who like that kind of thing could act out as much as they liked. We got to dance, we got to drink. And at least five people, if not more were hung over the next day. Good party!!

Also funny and totally out of the blue, I got offered a job. In Michigan if I should ever choose to come back. There was a bachelor party at the bar (responsible for the gathering of quite a few points) and I spent some time talking to the groom's father. Who it happens own his own company, something to do with convention services. So if I ever feel the call of Detroit...

Best part of this all? Photographic proof baby. Gotta drop off the cameras to get me some pics. Bwa ha ha.

ghaaaa

In a massive panic I ran around all afternoon getting all those last minute things in order before I headed out to Michigan. Run run run, hurry hurry hurry. I was late for my shuttle bus, traffic was awful, and I got to the airport...

My flight was cancelled.

AAAAAAAAAAAA.

First time for me. Guess I learned my lesson to check on my flight before leaving home. Three hours on a bus. Lugging my HUGE luggage (eight days back in hometown worth of clothes, do you UNDERSTAND how much I pack???) down and then up again five flights of stairs.

On the bright side, I have to admit I am relieved to be spending less time at my parents' house. There is nothing comforting of happy for me in being there. Literally I swear my parents are my kryptonite, the cutting shears to my Samson hair. Now I need only spend one day alone with their company.

So the irony is that that entire running around was really fruitful. I went shopping. Yes, me. By choice. And boy, did I make out! A pair of pants, a skirt, five shirts and a pair of shoes all for under $150. Best part, they are all a size smaller than the last time I went shopping (except for the shoes of course) and in them I look HOTTT. Okay, maybe I look good. But it is still fun.

Today was also my first experience with the eyebrow threading. I have never had my eyebrows professionally done before, so I was a bit nervous. This is what my eyebrows looked like when I would tweeze them:



No, I did not take a picture of the grow-out phase. I need not share the horrific hairy caterpillars with the world.

When I arrived at the salon, they had lost my reservation. They were kind enough to squeeze me in anyway. I met Rasman, and let her know I was an eyebrow virgin. She nodded, just asked me how I managed my brows before. Tweeze, tweeze, tweeze. Then she started.

Wow, that hurts. It was really interesting; I don't know quite how it works. Seemingly they take two threads side by side and pull them taught. An awful lot of hair was pulled out of me. The results:



Damn skippy that is a good result! Especially if you compare old to new. I was always proud of my artwork. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

If you are REALLY observant, you may notice the difference of hair color in the pics. Hmmmm.

(p.s. Six Dollars. SIX DOLLARS. Best beauty value ever? Hells yes.)