MK showed up the afternoon of the 28th with a dozen red roses. Butthead.
I went to WalMart and got him the only other card they had besides the one I got him last year, and some Orbit gum. He’d rather have money in the bank than cheesy gifts that end up in the storage room.
We both got nice new hairdos and since it was no biggie we went out to dinner with MH, who I totally missed while we were gone! It’s hard having such great friends in so many places, I’m always missing someone. We went to a bar afterward. And saw the strangest band. Of all time. Of ALL time. And I’ve seen many bands.
Quite often, if MK and I both drink, we fall back in to the old ways we have only just gotten rid of – where we bicker about each other. It started out of love and was all a big joke to us, but not to people we did it in front of, and we worked hard to knock it off.
But you know what the ass kicker was? He brought up this. My blog.
He called me a wuss.
And you know what? He was right. I am such a freaking wuss. For someone who talks so much I have so little to say. I am so scared. While I was getting my hair done, the super lovely hairdresser seemed surprised that I was terrified of karaoke and daring fashions. But what you might not know about me is that I am so worried about what people think (or maybe I wear that on my sleeve and am totally blind to how obvious it is).
Trying to be a writer made me observe everything. Since college I have become so aware of my surroundings sometimes I can’t even focus. I hear others conversations within ear shot. I have a hard time taking it all in. But I think it goes both ways. I have panic attacks if something embarrassing happens. If I say the wrong thing in front of someone I analyze it for hours afterwards. It can be impossible for me to sleep if I’m stressed about what someone I might not even know that well thought about me in passing.
I give up too easily. I take the easy way out. As much as I love blogging, I write about how fun my day was instead of how worked up I am that my genius husband won’t take to the internet and tell everyone what really happened to the market on May 5th. Or that I hate lipstick. Or what a terrible driver my bother is.
Because I’m too worried MK might ever see this. Or that you LOVE lipstick. Or that CH won’t still love me if I tell him to not be so aggressive in CA in that BMW of his. And that you’ll think I’m stupid. That you’ll actually fail to realize that my great ideas never happen when my hands are on the keyboard. That you’ll think this writing at odd quick moments is what my book might look like. What ever happened to that thing…?
So I’m going to give this another go. And take the wuss out of this site. But only a little bit, I’m still nervous to lose you. I have such a wide range of friends, family, and strangers here I really don’t want to fight!
In case this whole entry is a little too retarded for you, check this out.
Woman. I don’t even believe I’m reading this right now. I swear to you, with God as my witness, that I just yesterday put writing you on my list of things to do. BECAUSE!!! Because since our trip to visit you in Utah last year, I’ve thought and said – to other people – a trillion, zillion times, that you’ve changed so much since you left here. That you’re so much more secure, so much more comfortable in your own skin, so much more easy going than you were when you were here. That I’ve given you shit at various times about getting your asses back here because the city’s just not the same without you, but that I know getting away from here, the drama, some of the people, was the best thing you could have done for yourself. That you’ve grown so much, and your edges have softened, and you just feel – to me – so much more aware of who you are and what you want from life. That you were badass before, but that watching you go out and take on the world and settle into your real self without so damned much regard for what we’ll all think has been so awesome, and I’m so freaking proud of you.
It dawned on me yesterday that while those thoughts have been in my head for more than a year now, and the words have been spoken. . . I’ve never said any of it to you. On my way home from work today, I was starting to craft the words in my head. Trying to find a way to say it all without being condescending or sounding as if I didn’t wholeheartedly love you before you moved away. . . because you’ve been family to me since the day of your wedding shower (when my heart broke watching yours break) and I have always loved you like a sister no matter how good or bad things have been with either of us, or between us.
So. . . to read this now kinda threw me for a loop. I think you’re giving yourself a little less credit than you deserve. I’ve n.e.v.e.r. thought of you as a wuss. Completely the opposite, actually. Not only are you inherently more brave than most people I know, YOU are the one who got ME to put myself out there, to take chances, and to LIVE.
Sure, you could BLOG more aggressively, you could tell more people more of your business, speak more of your mind, but I think how you LIVE is a greater measure of character. And, call me crazy, but anyone who picks up and moves across the country. . . and then does it again. . . and again. . . and again. . . and leaves everyone and everything they know behind every time. . . NOT A WUSS.
ps – Get back to work on that book! What DID ever happen to that thing?!
I love you just the way you are! Miss you! XOXO
Snippy-
I loved that you put that all out there – here! I couldn’t decide how to reply so I figured I could try – here!
I wonder how much of how I’ve changed was just me growing up. I liked being the youngest in our whole group all the time, but forgot to try not to let that be my excuse for some really stupid stuff I pulled, and knew I was pulling. Now I know better than to try for that kind of cheesy attention (although there’s that one pic of me eating our head while you were here that goes against that).
MK gets a ton of credit too, he never thinks about anything and I don’t think anyone’s ever had a bad thought about him, I’m glad he’s giving me a little of that.
You helped me learn a most important lesson too, around that time of which you speak, and which I’ll write about. I wanted all my friendships to be carefree and easy, and you taught me that if that’s the case, what on earth are you really getting out of them? Challenging as we were to each other at times, you helped me grow up and learn that’s part of loving someone, friend or family, so much. I thought you wore your heart on your sleeve and ignored that mine was stuffed so far up my butt, haha. I admire the risks you’ve taken for others now that I understand them better. I just know not to put in my two cents on your love life. Thank God for you teaching me sometimes I really ought to hold my tongue.
You and friends of mine so much more enlightened than me (KD!, JC) have understood about me what I didn’t – all that blah blah blah was more of me thinking out loud than ever stating anything I thought for sure. And letting me do it that way chilled me out. I can do it internally now, or here, but not in the middle of a crowded bar to someone I just met. Amen and Amen!
Thanks for all your support and amazing friendship. As I texted last night, love you! Wish I was there to give you a giant hug.
hahahahahahahaha, I like when we all pretend like you weren’t COMPLETELY RIGHT when you offered your two cents about my love life!
I love, love, love, love, love what you said about what you get out of easy friendships. I know so many people here who operate on that surface level and it frustrates me to no end because I just don’t know how to do that. What’s the point? I love digging in and getting to know someone – REALLY know them, good and bad – and having the kind of relationship that allows for the kind of honesty that we have. I probably wind up disappointed in people more than others. I probably get hurt more often, and spend more time questioning humanity. But, I’m pretty sure I also experience more genuine love and more sincere support than most people do, so it all evens out.
I’m not exaggerating when I call you family. No matter what uncomfortable conversation we’d have, or how heated a disagreement. . . you were still always family. Always will be. And. . . yeah, your blog may not have been the most appropriate forum for this discussion, but it just struck a chord with me. . . and you know I don’t give a shit what any of your readers think.