Category Archives: Drama

Funny Day

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It all started without coffee creamer. That’s how every bad day starts. But come on, right?

So I get off my butt and go for a hike with KP today. She and Lily-puppy took me to a new part of Park City that was beautiful. And we saw a small herd of elk, the one thing I hadn’t seen up close around here yet. So far so good.

Then we head out to lunch at the Bridge, at the base of Town lift. I’d never eaten there, most likely because it is at the base of Town lift. YUM! It’s actually a Brazilian inspired, fancy and features a reasonably priced menu for downtown and on the ski hill. We discuss our many blessings (KP has a BUN in the OVEN), and we laugh over my car seat electrical issue like the little thing it is. And how I was mad about being without creamer. Silly!

After our delicious appetizer, I sunk my teeth in to my half of a chicken sandwich. Literally. The sandwich ripped out a tooth. Ow. One of my veneers, now five years old, decided to jump ship.

I don’t have a dentist here.

I start frantically making calls (and chewing on the far right of my face) and am able to find a place that will see me and give me a before-I-try-to-travel verdict.

Miracle! The dentist is able to take the whole veneer and reattach it to my face…IN SPITE OF BEING AN AGGIE!

I didn’t even wait. It took no time.

And they had TVs on the ceiling.

I am reasonably sure the ladies in the office were divine, the Dentist is my HERO, and I’ll be singing his praises all the way to and in Austin when I flash my non redneck smile.

Even if he does use his diploma to park in handicapped spaces.

So- moral of the story is don’t take the good stuff for granted, but also don’t think something eventually won’t go wrong. It does. Just have a good laugh, even if it is one with your hand over your mouth.

❤

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The Point

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Of course the very first thing Momm asked last night is why I was bothering to waste words on this topic. I told her it happened, I think and feel things about it, and it’s cathartic to have this space to get out those feelings and thoughts. I mentioned it to MK, and he agreed with Momm. Apparently he wants me to blog about current events and real issues. But wait! I assured them both this was current and an issue.

My point for telling the story was so that you could help me out. The thing is, I am friends with quite a few people. And I’m in the middle of making a whole new set of friends, in my new home. I want to be the best person I can and put my best foot forward. I feel like right now I can’t do that unless I clean up my past. I remain in touch with so many people. I go to places they all are often. I meet up with them. I might even try to avoid them, only to run in to them since they are all friends with other friends. I embrace my past and love my friends, but I honestly do a kind of crappy job keeping in touch sometimes. It’s hard to call if you haven’t got something new and interesting, and you’re worried about old stuff being brought up.

Point is, the last 100,000 times that I’ve seen anyone that knows the story I told you, they bring it up. “Have you heard from DH?” “What ever happened to DH?” and if you follow my Twitter (you must, it’s on the right of this page over there) you know that it’s been four years. Four years and, what, six or seven addresses later? As if I’m going to ever ask anyone or look around or hear about her. I don’t want to. This is me moving on.

But these friends of mine, and I do believe they are good friends, always bring it up. I feel like asking them how they felt when their dog died or their neighbor got cancer. It’s just not appropriate. So blog buddies, how do I get over this? I thought maybe sharing the story with you might help me get over it. And it did. It’s something that happened to me though, it doesn’t just go away. So how do I ever convince these people to help me make it go away? I don’t want crap like this on my mind as I go out in the world meeting new people. It creates unwarranted misgivings. I want to get this old stuff off my mind, and open it to new people without worrying theyd hurt me in any similar way.

And Then…

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So there we were. Me in full wedding mode, her offering to help and then letting me down, calling hangovers “allergy attacks” like I didn’t know better. Everything was happening so fast, and I was going to be married. I sent out shower invites. My mom came in. The day of, Mom and I got our hair and makeup done, and still no word from DH, person in charge of everything for the party. Snippy, correct me and remind me what I leave out – it’s hard to remember what you try to forget!

I am not good at parties. And it was mine, but I cared more about everyone else enjoying it. And still no word. Snippy saved the day as we mad dashed to Costco and the store you buy party crap at. Champagne, cake, and napkins later, we set up my aunt’s beautiful house. I was blocking it out then and I’m blocking it out now, so I don’t even remember what her story was. Just that she showed up like a guest, saw that we did it all without her, called it good, and lead the games. Games I was supposed to be thrilled over. But I just sat there. Deep breathing. Trying to enjoy how hideous I made the last minute plain white cake with nothing on it look with a big old frosting wedding date. Ew.

How could a friend do that? It’s not like leaving you hanging. That happens to everyone. It’s more like ruining a memory of a day that is supposed to be dear to your entire life. But I won’t let her win. She might have been there trying, but my real friends and family were there champagne toasting, sharing stories, giving me well wishes, taking silly pictures, and being SO NICE to my MIL ;). That’s all wins for me. It was a gorgeous day. I won’t forget what it was about and how loved I felt by everyone else in the house.

But I was spent. I was spinning. You kinda don’t get to do that and then think you’re still in the wedding (which of course she totally did). And she apologized. And she cried. And I got stuck at my house with an impromptu after party with people I’m 99% sure don’t read this, but just in case I can’t say what I really want to, other than she mislead all of them even more.

Without Snippy the wedding might not have happened. I was just so over it. She rescued me in the way only someone who knows pain and knows life must go on, even if it meant throwing me over a shoulder and carrying me through the ceremony. KD stepped up big time. SB never even complained when I called crying and said I needed her no matter what. Her hubby (boyfriend at the time) didn’t complain as he listened to me whine to her the whole night before the wedding. KD let me be angry. Snippy put together a wedding. I got hives, or something. Ugh.

I tried not to feel sorry for DH. Turns out she was just jealous. She wanted a man. Or something. I even pitied her way too much. This post was about her. A year after the wedding she still wasn’t on track. She became the first person I permanently tried to cut out of my life, for good.

A Good Place To Start

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There are dozens of stories I could share here about my life in college and me finding who I was, but the more I think about it, the more universal that experience is, it wasn’t just my journey. Most people go through it. So even though it was finding jobs and friends and MK and crazy trips and heartache and some insane drama I know not many people have experienced, that stuff can wait for another day. Remind me to tell you the one about the bi polar roommate…

To be really hard-hitting, I know where I want to start. Snippy brought it to my attention in the comments of that last post, calling it the day I became family to her – I can’t even address that whole comment other than to say it heped immensely with everything I’ve been trying to figure out (P.S. Really, you should be reading her blog too, in case you forgot that I reminded you to!)

Once upon a time in Austin, I went out with some really good friends of mine, and a group of their friends I’d never met. There were maybe ten of us. I met this one chick as she burned a hole with a lit cigarette right through the new shirt I’d gotten to go out (warning sign?). It is still one night of fun that stands out in my memory. We quickly bonded with this group of fun high-spirited people and spend a good summer in each other’s company. When the ring leader moved away, she and I remained in touch. She was in college, working, had beyond wealthy parents, and an appetite for working as hard as she played.

It was really my first real girl friend after my first(ASH) and best(SB) friend and roommate moved away, which had such a tough impact on me I thought I’d never survive. Since SB had pretty much been my everything up until then, I foolishly put my everything into DH (for the sake of me trying to be vague and getting annoyed let’s name her “DH”, like, dummyhead!). Everything was fine until she lost her job. Then dropped out of school. Since no one I’d known had ever done that, I had her back. I helped her. I set her up with friends. I almost alienated my dear BIL over her. Things spiraled out of control for her while things went better and better for me. I was graduating, meeting new people, getting promotion after promotion. Getting engaged! Getting a new job! Getting a promotion!

We fell in and out of touch after she moved back in with her parents. Her friends were my friends, always asking “What happened to DH?” Sometimes I knew, sometimes I didn’t. I didn’t see any pattern, just a troubled life. So when she came back into mine, with a job, a new start, I didn’t question it. I always try to build others up.

I invited her to go to the networking events I found and loved. When my job was beyond torture, I could get with people who reminded me why I loved it, why I was good at it, why I wanted to do the right thing. Unfortunately, I became associated with someone who drank, smoked, partied, and went home with others and was gossiped about. I used to feel like I could only blame myself, but the nights I stayed out past my bedtime, away from my fiance, and showed up to work so much worse for the wear, I now see as nights I let myself be persuaded. That is my fault, but DH shares more of the blame than I realized at the time. And I know now it was because she wanted to hurt me, to bring me down. She’d talk me against my friends, my fiance, being a good employee.

It was strange but fine when she announced that she “had to” be my maid of honor for my wedding. I was a sucky wedding planner, knew the trip would be expensive for SB (she had been carefully carving out her own amazing life) and to this day ASH – I really thought you had been in 87 weddings and would like a chance to just sit and enjoy one IN YOUR OWN CLOTHES :). So sure, whatever. I asked KD to be in my wedding party too, and was done. Well, I went to flower places BY MYSELF, arranged music BY MYSELF, and finally got the girls together to pick food, after I found a church and hotel BY MYSELF. There really aren’t that many fond memories of my wedding planning – it was me, on the computer on my lunch break at work, researching until I was so sick of it I just picked something.

Well, that was more backstory than I thought I’d need. To be continued…

No Matter What

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So help me, we are going to have fun on this Vegas trip. The 12 of us that are for sure are going to go out, see sights, eat food, have fun.

I’m assuming if I just continue to repeat this mantra over and over, it will happen. HOW CAN YOU NOT HAVE FUN IF YOU’RE WITH ME? RIGHT??

Wanna do yoga at 5am? In a dress and sneakers? On the way BACK from the club? Done.

Wanna sleep until noon, lounge by the pool, eat 7 meals in 7 hours? Done!

If I’m the girl that won’t say no, will make it fun no matter what IT is, then you should be just as determined as me to make the best of anything. You’re my family, you must have a little bit of that in you!

I talked to my cousin and got excited. She’s really looking forward to her first trip to Vegas. And she said, with us, it’ll be fun. Awww. What she doesn’t know is I was about to just show up. Now I’m back in the trying to plan the best trip ever saddle.

As a reminder, if you’ve ever been to Vegas with someone that doesn’t drink, or gamble, or sightsee, let me know what you did…

Momm! Brother! Here!

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FYI – even after those caps, there are many, many more.

MY Momm’s coming! AND my brother! To visit. UTAH.

Unfortunately, half the house is still up to the sills in snow. And it might snow AGAIN. And CH will be all, “It’s sunny in San Diego” and I’ll be all “Dude, YOU’RE WELCOME, I TOLD YOU TO MOVE THERE. BUT STOP TELLING ME HOW AWESOME IT IS, I KNOW”, and Momm’ll be all “KIDS!”

So that should be FUN.

MK prolly needs a drink. I better get on that.

But anyway. So, we’re all growed up. And that’s been on my mind a lot lately. If I pretended my Momm didn’t read my blog, I’d tell you all these thoughts I’ve been having about that. But since she does, I’ll just give her a taste:

I can’t wait to ask Momm some questions. Like, really. Not “Hey, how are you?” but like “DO YOU LIKE US?!?!?!”

No one has three kids and expects them all to be hilarious, right?

With TB on the verge of NUMBER TWO all I can think about is, what if they are so opposite they don’t get along? What if we don’t like him? SB has the bar set pretty high, what if he JUMPS OVER IT? What if he HATES ME? I’ll stop, since those aren’t my kids, but you get my point right?

Kids are weird. We haven’t been around each other and Momm a lot. It will be interesting. One third of the H’s reuniting. In my silly ski town. I hope they do that thing where they think, “not for me, but whatever floats your boat, wherein boat = SKIS OVER FRESH POWDER”.

🙂

So Far Behind

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The Catch 22 about having this place to tell you about everything that is going on is that when too much is going on, I can’t get here. No matter how hard I try. We’ve done a ton of stuff to the house I want to show you – even though I’ve already reached the point where I’m totally over it.

I had a birthday and company, that was fun! Then, in a surprising turn of events (maybe since she knew the house was going to be done before we invited her) MIL showed up on the doorstep less than 10 hours after our company left. In the middle of the biggest snowstorm I’ve ever seen with my own eyes. The first floor of the house is buried.

So between entertaining others – and myself (I wasn’t going to miss Sundance festivities this weekend) I am totally burnt out. And with all this epic snow, there’s no time for that. So we’re off to go ski, and if I don’t fall asleep immediately afterwards, I’ll catch you up on some stories. Thanks for hanging in there. If I can do it…

The Best And Worst Of Times

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We interrupt all the boring house talk (don’t worry, it’ll return tomorrow) to tell you about our NYE 2010.

We had an AWESOME day skiing with a snowboarder friend from San Diego. I told you I wasn’t super fond of PCMR here last year, and trust me, it wasn’t any cleaner and we waited in line 45 minutes for one lift. But I’m a better skier, and we found some unpacked parts of the resort. We dodged the crowds and the newbies. What a difference it makes. The only catch was we were skiing runs that totally should not have been open. We were hitting ice patches, rocks, and grassy wet spots in some places. The pressure of opening the resort as fully as possible to get the tourists in over the holidays is too much sometimes. Mother Nature didn’t give us enough snow for this week. That being said, again, we had a GREAT time. I was as good as (I humbly state ‘if not better than’) the company, which makes an enormous difference. We skied until 4 or 5, super late in the day for us. So that was the best of times. Taking 2009 out with a bang up ski day.

MK loves NYE. It might be his ‘thing’. Holidays in general are his thing, NYE and July 4th especially (I know, crazy right?). He really wanted to go to Vegas with some friends but I had to lay down the law and say that since the fireplace guy quoted us a million dollars for new fireplaces (or he suggested burning the house down and starting over) this house had to be our priority and I didn’t want to spend over a grand easily for one night. Maybe some other time.

So we got tickets to a bar party here. We plowed the driveway first, and I cooked a huge steak dinner and made some really good hors d’oeuvres to take next door. Our super awesome neighbors in their super awesome house had a bunch of super cool friends that we got to meet. We had a wonderful time getting to know them and look forward to hanging out in the future*.

We excused ourselves (in hindsight, should have stayed!) and got ready to go out (threw on a mini dress). It was a super cute dress and I don’t have one good picture of it. I might just wash it and wear it tonight and take some pictures…Anyway. We were told that Harry O’s is the most night-clubby nightclub in Park City, and it would be a good place to spend NYE. Some Pussycat Doll was hosting and I’m not going to say the DJs name due to where I’m going with this but I bet you could figure it out in a few minutes searching online.

This bar, this party, the people who worked there, the host, the DJ – I mean, I have nothing good to say.

MK and I will have a good time no matter what. We are determined people. Especially when we spent money to get in, in a line that took forever, where the retarded door girl just stared at us for a couple minutes before doing her really hard job of looking our names up on the list. Then the guy wouldn’t stamp us since working a STAMP is hard. Then, to check your coat was 8$. I don’t care what holiday it is, we live in a COLD place. Don’t charge that much (IF AT ALL) for a coat check. That is LAME. The bartenders were acting like you were lucky they were even there at all. I’m not sure if people don’t tip well in bars in Utah, but I do. There have been a few bars here where these bartenders are so. put. out. to get you a drink. On NYE? Come on.

The host girl was totally cracked out of her mind. She did what you can barely call ‘burlesque’ if you’ve ever seen anyone that knows what they are doing. If she was really a PCD, I now have no need to ever she that kind of show. Her eyes were rolling back into her head, she couldn’t talk coherently, and I’m pretty sure the thing that was supposed to be so ‘hot’ – her in a bathtub – was almost a disaster, since she looked about to topple over at any second.

The music was the WORST EVER. If you’re a renowned DJ, don’t come to Utah and act like you’re DJing for Mormons. There are plenty of people traveling. And if that’s what you play when you’re in LA, SD, or Las Vegas, crap, anywhere, you should get booed and shut down.

Now get this: The DJ and whoever was yelling over his awful mashup almost missed New Year’s. How do you mess THAT up? We literally got treated to a FOUR SECOND countdown. 4,3,2,1. Done. Sucks for you if you were in the bathroom.

At this point I am off the dance floor and making my way out of the cheesy crowd ASAP. People that thought they were big deals were climbing up on stage. Girls must have forgotten you could SEE UP THEIR DRESSES and were doing things I hope they felt bad about the next day (Note: Don’t wear your grannie panties with teddy bears on them if you’re going to dance like that!). People were actually ON PURPOSE pouring their drinks on people, which mystified me. The whole crowd was nuts. Maybe in a state where it’s hard to get booze you suck at drinking. Even in the most nutso bars in Austin, LA, Vegas, drunk people dance and hug on NYE, not pour drinks all over the place.

So we found a nice empty bar upstairs and things got better until a guy doused us all in his champagne, again on purpose. Don’t they know that’s alcohol abuse? Drink it. Then I’m not kidding, a guy a friend was dancing with BIT HER ON THE NECK.

Sticky and overwhelmed, we went for our coats. Which we got a dirty look for not tipping for – don’t work where they charge 8 DOLLARS A COAT and maybe you’d make a tip. We went to our friend’s hotel and hung out until almost 4 laughing about the night.

Next year we might have to do Vegas. Because I thoguht hard about this rant. I’m not too old to have a good time. I wasn’t wasted, but I was in a good mood ready to have fun. This placce was totally a train wreck. There’s not getting around it.

*Which will test my skills. Holy cow, when they all were asking why we moved here and we said “to ski”, I thought that was a totally normal answer – like, why ELSE do people move here?!?! But these people taught me there is SO MUCH MORE AWESOME STUFF to do here. These guys all ice climb (I don’t even get that idea), snowshoe, hike, bike, ride rapids, etc. etc. I told them I’d try everything once as long as they knew I’d be bad at it, not matter what it was!

Loser. Of Stuff.

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Ever since I was a little girl, I wasn’t very good at taking care of things. My favorite possession of all time, when I was about 11, was a moon watch my Dad bought me at a yard sale. Which I took off and lost I don’t know how long after  I got it. Probably not long. The kicker is I lost it in a house, I’m sure. A house we since moved out of, but no one ever found that missing watch.

It got worse as I got older. Because then you have more stuff. I’ve lost cell phones (not stolen – although that’s happened way too much too) wallets, even whole purses. Money, CDs, movies I’ve lent out, clothes. Sneakers. Coats. Scarves. Books. Remind me of something you’ve gotten me, and I might have lost it.

Getting our things out of storage will be better than Christmas for me – I’ll be rummaging around seeing things and saying, “Oh, great! I was afraid I lost this!”.

MK hates that I lose stuff, especially since he’s been watching me do it for almost 10 years now. He apparently has never lost anything. I’m waiting to write it down the day he does and then remind him once a week for the rest of his life that he is a failure. Because man he knows how to make me feel guilty. My best tactic for getting over losses is to pretend it wasn’t that important. Or to forget it completely – which is pretty easy for my little brain to do.

Take this weekend. I was in a ladies room, with SIL. I was touching up my lipstick. I took the cute little bag that I have to keep the makeup from getting my nice purse messy out of my bag to do so. I then apparently washed my hands and left the bathroom sans makeup bag. And didn’t notice it until we were in the cab heading to another hotel. Boo.

But it was a makeup bag. It had mascara, chapstick, floss, advil, and eyedrops. That’s like 10 bucks worth of stuff. I laughed it off and said, “Oh well”. But MK wouldn’t let it go. It was another thing on a long list of things that if you add 10 bucks to might be somewhere around 500$.

So you know what I decided to do? I remembered the last time I lost something (I think I lost my ID and Debit Card in freaking Vegas during my Bachelorette Party – yes, I just remembered) and I called lost and found. The hotel actually had the bag. And I went and got it. And it had all my crap in it. So I’m off the hook right?

Not even close.

Repeated Disappointment

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The reason I asked about the face issue was totally that we were going glasses shopping. And we went. And MK still only looks good in bland wire frames. I was hoping we’d discover some new daring style he could take on. I still look totally lame in glasses period. Or, PERIOD.

We both have awful sleep schedules and stay out too late for our own good. We both agree if we could just be comfy wearing our glasses out it would solve half of the bailing early we do. My eyes get sensitive if I’m out in the sun all day, which we usually are. Solution: glasses in public. Problem: what we look like in glasses.

Every four years or so this lame cycle repeats itself (this started when I was 9 or so, people) where I go hoping to find something decent only to be reminded my face looks retarded with glasses. Not only that, but any frame that might look nice will suck once you put my coke-bottle lenses in.

just not hot

just not hot

The lady today suggested that the rectangular frames that look halfway decent on my face were the problem because somehow they make the lenses fit by making them fatter. So I need glasses that are kinda round or at least go up on the bottom corners. There goes any hope I had of looking stylish. But hey, maybe I won’t look geeky?
cool but not allowed

cool but not allowed

Scratch that. I look even worse that possible in the frames that are oval or round or rectangular with an arch at the bottom. Sucky.

meh

So there that goes. I didn’t buy anything. I hate the glasses that I have now, even though I thought they were okay when I got them…  so the problem remains. I’m going to try one more super high end store – for sure some name brand on the side will hide the fact that I look terrible in them – and if I can’t afford them I’ll look on eBay. Chances are I might just give up and go for broke: