Friday, November 12, 2010

go back to texas

Okay, emo time is over. I re-read my post from yesterday and, boy, I can be sort of depressing when you get me going, can't I? Wowser. But the good news is now that the feelings are words, the words can be, well, erased. Just like that. And we (and by we I mean I) can move on already. From now on I'll try to save that craziness (when it does creep up) for my journal, thank you very much. Because, let's face it, no one wants to be friends with Debby Downer. Nobody.

So in other less dark, less depressing, less pity party for me, more normal news: my little brother is visiting from NYC this weekend! And while this is the same brother who co-authored and co-posted a note on my door to welcome me home from a trip to Dallas that read "Go Back to Texas" (proof below*)...

... after a couple years and now a bunch of miles between us, I cannot wait for him to visit. And the very best part of this weekend is not only is he visiting me, but we're also surprising my youngest brother by showing up at his last football game of the season.

I just love surprises. And I especially love them when someone else is in on the secret. Yes, yes, I know this surprise is likely not at the "Surprise! You're Publisher's Clearing House's next million dollar winner!" level, but I'll take what I can get, when I can get it.

Now, this isn't the first surprise my brother and I have gone in on together... In retrospect, my favorite probably has to be when we decided to take over cooking dinner for my mom one night and made Macaroni and Cheese along with a surprise salad. Bet you're dying to know the surprise, eh? Dum-dum suckers (still in their wrappers, mind you) hidden among the leaves in the salad bowl. Boy, aren't we something?

You know, the impending family weekend has me feeling all nostalgic about my brothers. About my mom dressing us up in coordinated outfits to get our pictures taken at Sears portrait studio. About playing Where in the World is Carmen San Diego and Jeopardy on our old Apple 2GS all summer long. About raking leaves into huge piles just to jump in them and have to rake them up again. About getting to unwrap just one present on Christmas Eve. About going back and cheering them on on their high-school (and then college) football fields.

It sort of amazing how you can go from telling on each other because someone didn't eat all of their peas at the dinner table (true story) and yelling at them to GET OUT! of your room to calling each other up to talk through a problem or tell a joke. It's like somewhere along the line you all of a sudden realize that your siblings actually are real people with real lives and real friends and real problems... They don't only exist within your familial frame of reference. And then you make this even better realization that they're actually pretty cool people at that. People you would want to spend time with, even if you weren't forced to around the Thanksgiving dinner table.

And as we grow up, spread out, get lives of our own and get further and further from those childhood memories we were sort of forced to have to together, I feel like it's more important than ever that they're not just my brothers, but my friends.

Even if they'd still sometimes rather have me just go back to Texas.

* Okay, okay. In their defense when you flipped the note over, the backside actually said "Lol** Welcome Home!". But still.

** Again in their defense, I think this note was written just around the time LOL was actually considered a cool, legitimate term to use. If it ever really was.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

the dating game

I try not to expose too much on here. Sure I'll give a sneak peak, but I tend to avoid the really big, really embarrassing, really personal things. After all, some people actually do read this (I'm still amazed they do) and there are just some things that a girl's gotta keep to herself. You know?

But lately my mind is filled to the brim with personal things. Filled up so much that there just doesn't seem to be room for the practical, productive things like remembering to call my dad back. Or order mustard on my sammie at Jimmy John's. Or write anything somewhat amusing or insightful on here. So I think I just need to make some room in the attic of my brain. And the only solution? Spring cleaning in the form of putting pen to paper (or in this case, fingers to keyboard). Because, after all, words don't ever seem quite as unmanageable as feelings and thoughts and emotions and stuff. So feel free to stop reading right now if you don't want to know me this well. (Honestly, Michael, if you want to maintain the pleasant notion that your big sister isn't actually a girl dealing with weird girlie emotions, stop.) Don't say I didn't warn you...

A couple weeks ago (after I spouted off some football stat a normal girl probably shouldn't know) one of my good friends said that she would totally date me if she were a guy. Which, I suppose, is flattering and a complement and all that jazz. But it made me realize a pretty sad truth: I don't think I would date me right now. No way. No how. Not going to happen. Just like Dr. Seuss, I wouldn't touch me with a 39 and a half foot pole.

Why not?

Because I push guys away. Good guys. Guys who ask me out on dates. Guys who pursue me. Guys who tell me I'm beautiful. Who think I'm amazing. Who bring me flowers when I've had a rough week.
Who want to spend more time with me. Really good guys. I just ... push them away.

Because I'm selfish. I've gotten so used to living my life on my own that I run the risk of not knowing how to make room for someone else. Between the late nights at work. And the various intramural sports. And the girls nights out. And the times I just need to be alone for a bit. My schedule is full and I just haven't figured out how to make the time. I haven't wanted to figure it out.

Because I'm a girl who doesn't always have the ability - doesn't always have the emotional stability - to make the best decision between someone who could be right and someone who is right now.

Because I'm addicted to wanting what I can't have...
And then it hits me like a ton of bricks. Brutally honest, enlightening bricks. Maybe it's not about wanting what I can't have. Maybe it's really because he believes, like I do, that I'm undateable. He thinks I'm pretty great. Apparently just not. quite. good. enough. (Gulp. Sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.) He's been validating my argument.

So what am I supposed to do with all that?

I guess I just have to continue. I have to go on dates. I have to make mistakes. Some big ones. Some littler ones. But I have to do it all with the best of intentions. And I absolutely have to believe that it's all leading somewhere. Even if it's taking me along the long, scenic route.

Because when it really comes down to it, I don't want to believe I'm a total lost cause. I want to believe in love and connection and soul-mates. And I want to believe it can actually exist for me. Not just for other people. I want to share inside jokes (and my spot on the couch) with someone. To find the smell of a certain guy that makes everything seem comfortable. Makes everything seem like it's going to be alright. I want to find someone who makes me actually want to make room in my life for more than a party of one.

Because as much as I don't think I'm dateable right now. I know deep down, with all my heart, that's just got to be untrue.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

my dream catcher is full

Last night I had a dream that I found a baby (a baby?) at Cedar Point. Said baby had no apparent parents anywhere nearby. No cute little basket it had been left in. No note. Nothing. So, naturally, I toted it around all day. And even though it made it rather difficult to ride some of the more intense roller coasters, I was sort of fond of that little guy by the end of the day (and the dream).

Toss and turn. Wake up. Check the alarm clock. Whew, it's only 12am. Back to sleep

Then I had a dream that from some reason I was walking around the 26th floor of my office building when I noticed some guy with a to-go bag from Chick-fil-a. Even my dreaming mind realized that this couldn't be possible. Chick-fil-a doesn't exist (yet) within the city of Chicago! But I retraced his path and, alas, there it was tucked away in this back corner, behind the elevators. It was like this little hidden gem! No more waiting until 2011 for a Chick-fil-a to open on Michigan Ave. It was here! Thank you, Chick-fil-a! (To which, of course, they'd have to respond "My pleasure". :))

Wake up with a start (and a strange mid-night craving for a chicken sandwich). Check the alarm clock. Whew, 3am. Back to sleep.

Then I drifted into a dream (possibly a nightmare) that my camera wasn't working. I kept trying to show people pictures from the weekend and nothing would show up in the screen. And just as I was in the middle of trying to show yet another person my pictures, I realized I was actually on a jet-ski on some tropical waters! Shawn was swimming around (welcome to my dream, Shawnee!) and all of a sudden dolphins started jumping right over her. What a great picture! But when I tried to take it, nothing! I couldn't capture it because of my broken camera. Such a bummer!

Wake up. Check the alarm clock. Whew, 5:30am. Realize I have to pee. Stumble to bathroom. Then climb back into the warm covers and back to sleep.

Luckily I can't remember any dreams after that.

So, dream interpreters out there, what do you think? If I had to make my best guess I'd say my mind is just filled with a lot right now. All these ideas, questions, concerns, unknowns, deadlines (and chicken sandwiches?) jumping up and down, using my brain as a trampoline. Or, perhaps, I need to stop doing LSD before bed each night. You know, either or.

Monday, November 1, 2010


So, it turns out DST is actually next weekend.

It's always been the last Sunday in October. Until this year. When they decided to up and change it.

Just when a girl's getting the hang of it...