Not Your Typical Introversion Post... Or Is It?

During the past several months oodles of Buzzfeed and Buzzfeedesque websites have published lists about introversion. For instance: 27 Problems Only Introverts Will Understand. The other trend? People, mostly extroverts, are sick of hearing about introversion. I get it. But here's what you might not get... we live in your world, at least we do here in 'Merica. Some of us have been doing so for twenty-some years or more, and all of our lives we've either been told there's something wrong with us or that we're weird or that we're snooty.

I promise we aren't. Seriously, take a walk in my flip-flops for a day, especially one of my high school days. In no particular order are a few moments from my high school years in which I've been publicly shamed or had to find a way to avoid public shame because of qualities that stem from my introversion.

1. I start to walk to the front of the classroom to give a presentation, and I hear, "Awwwww. She's so cuuuttte." No. I was a student who was not fond of public speaking who had to speak publicly. I was and am still not a fucking toddler who did the cutest thing ever or some adorable dog who'd just rolled over. I was a 17 year old student trying to do what I was told to do. Officially not cute or awe worthy.

2. "Julie, what's wrong?" Nothing. Why? "You look mad." No. This is just my face.

3. I was never much for going out. My friends used to think my mom was a total bitch because if I got an invite to do something that I didn't want to do, it was easier to say my mom wouldn't let me than to have to answer the endless questions about why I didn't want to go out to the mall or to a party or whatever was happening.

4. After showing a video for a group project for sophomore year English, someone turned around, and said, "Wow. I always thought you were boring, but you're actually a fun person!" Thanks? I'm not sure why you made that assumption... because I still don't understand how quiet and studious equals boring. This is probably why I had a rebellious phase in college. I thought I had to prove I was "cool."

5. "Why aren't you going to the school dance?" There was never a good answer to this question. I tried them all. I even tried to go to a dance because I thought I would regret not going to my senior prom. The only positive of attending that dance is I have future memoir material. I had to kiss a dude I didn't want to kiss because he wouldn't stop trying to kiss me. It was less awkward to kiss him than continue to avoid. I should have kicked him.   

Now that we've revisited a bit of high school, albeit very briefly (Thank you, sweet baby Jesus), let's take a look at why despite the above incidents, I supposedly should still not whole-heartedly embrace my introversion now that I'm slowing heading toward thirty, the supposed age of self-acceptance.

According to Chelsea Fagan at Thought Catalog reason 14 (out of 21) she's sick of hearing about all of us introverts: "...but often we use the struggles introverts face as a good excuse for them to be outright unkind to, or inconsiderate of, other people. (And don’t you deny that shit, either, you know you guys are constantly talking about why you shouldn’t have to be expected to call people back or show up to things.)"

First of all, you have a run-on sentence unless "either" (without its pal "or") is some magical new conjunction I missed whilst learning. Maybe you were too busy being an extrovert to properly edit your piece. Second, you're a bitch (if you're smart, you picked up on this in my first sentence). And just so we're crystal clear, that statement does not stem from my introversion or my smarty pants, introverted brain deciding I can call you a bitch and blame it on my introversion. I actually think you're an ignorant bitch. Clearly, no one has ever deemed you boring or bitchy because you don't talk enough, you read too much, you like school, and/or you need extra alone time to "recharge." Do you know how that feels? Why am I even asking. Of course you don't know because you just decided and wrote a blanket statement that I along with my introverted friends are the real assholes.

You're also an ignorant bitch for this one too: "And frankly, if it’s an aspect of your personality that you hold onto that firmly, I highly recommend investing in actual personality traits, such as “sense of humor” or “good listener,” or even just “makes a pretty good frittata.”"

Duder. You don't get it. So you should just shut the fuck up. Have you ever talked to an introvert? Because, you know, we actually do talk. How do you know I'm not a good listener? Frankly, I'm not sure why they let you publish this list because you have no fucking clue what you're talking about because one of the traits of being an introvert is BEING A GOOD LISTENER. Also, introversion is actually a personality trait (http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/fulfillment-any-age/201108/there-s-more-introversion-you-might-think). Being an introvert likely indicates a person has several other more specific personality traits. But again, being an introvert is a mother fucking personality trait as is extroversion. It's like little houses of personality traits. So when we introverts embrace being introverted, we are embracing multiple traits at once. We are probably doing so because for so many years we've been called weird or geeky or quirky or some other adjective all because of a collection of items listed below*

1. We prefer one-on-one conversations... maybe with some tea or coffee but maybe not. I personally think chatting over some tasty lattes is an excellent way to socialize. But hey, if you want water or tea or soda, then get one of those beverages. 
2. We aren't much for parties. They over-stimulate our minds. Don't get me wrong, I've been to several good parties and had excellent times. But I usually had to talk myself into going. I could honestly go for a good old fashioned game of beer pong right now.
3. We prefer chilling at home. It's even better if a book is involved!
4. We are "reserved" because we don't talk "enough." I can guarantee you there are at least two people who would gladly trade places with you for at least a day. Right Jeff? I'm sure there's been at least one time he'd have put a zipper on my mouth if it were possible.
5. We are "aloof" because we haven't said all that much. In reality, we are absorbing the shit out of our surroundings.
6. We over-think things, or we're way too intense. So what if an illustration of our minds looks like this:
   
7. We tend to do well in school. Apparently this is some fatal flaw unless someone forgot to do their homework. I've fallen prey to the "Can I borrow your worksheet?" one too many times all because I was horrified of saying no because I already felt so uncool because of all of the other issues I've mentioned. Don't ask me now though. This bitch has learned to be assertive when needed. 
8. Need I say more? I could, but I shouldn't have to do so. So I won't. If you don't get it now, go pick up a book on introversion, even if it's just to prove that you too like books. 

So yes, we are embracing the hell out of our introversion. No longer will we allow you to think the things you've thought about us all because we like books and video games and prefer in-depth conversations with one person rather than brief conversations with a throng of people. No longer will allow you to think we're boring weirdos who don't like to do the shit you do. We are far from boring-- that graphic says it all. You just have to give us a chance. We know you prefer and/or can handle being around large crowds more than us, and that's okay. We also know you like books and being alone sometimes too. So we aren't weird. We never called you weird. We've never not invited you somewhere (because again, contrary to popular opinion we actually go out and know how to have fun) or overlooked you or didn't talk to you because we thought you were boring as fuck. Hell, we might even make for good pals-- sometimes we need to go out to a club or bar and dance the night away too. And sometimes the best person to do that with is an extrovert (plus, you totally handle the bar situation better than us).

*Sources (not in proper format because I'm too lazy for that shit since this is not an academic paper):

1. Susan Cain's Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking
2. MBTI Basics: http://www.myersbriggs.org/my-mbti-personality-type/mbti-basics/extraversion-or-introversion.asp
3. 23 Signs You're Secretly An Introvert: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/08/20/introverts-signs-am-i-introverted_n_3721431.html
4. My brain... I realize I cannot actually cite myself, but I'm doing it because my students always ask me if they can be their own source. No you can't, but I'm going to be my own source because I'm the teacher! Boom. Yes, this is completely devoid of logic, but it's my blog. Boom, boom.

17 Reasons Why... I'm Married?

So I was browsing through my Facebook feed, prepping for a wicked nap. But then I came across an article about being undateable, and it enraged me. So much so that I couldn't nap. According to Ashley Fern, "being single in your twenties is currently some sort of epidemic that comes without explanation." What. The. Fuck.

Being single is totes cool. If anyone tells you otherwise, fuck them. But that doesn't mean being non-single is uncool. At all. Especially when your seventeen reasons for being single totally fucking suck. Fern says her reasons are "possibly satirical." What the fuck does that even mean? Either they are satirical, or they aren't! You can't have it both fucking ways. Satire and no satire may be one of the only true binaries in existence.

So here are Fern's seventeen reasons... except instead of making me undateable, they make me fucking awesome and/or my husband fucking awesome:

1. I'd rather stay in than go out. I binge watch Netflix with my husband. Sometimes I binge watch it by myself. How scandalous!

2. I'm old, so I hardly ever go out. But when I do, I PARTY. And you know who is semi-cool with it? My hubster. Why? Because he's not a fucking dick. The semi is only there because he loves me, and he doesn't want me to have a hangover because hangovers suck donkey balls.

3. Fern says she is undateable because she doesn't want to meet your family. Dude. That just means you're like everyone else in the world. I love my in-laws, but I wasn't exactly "Yay! Jeff, I want to meet your family! They're going to love me and my weirdness and my cursing and all my other baggage!" 

4. I wasn't excited to introduce Jeff to my family. It's no that I'm ashamed of my family, but we have our quirks. So again, just like every other human being, I was nervous about Jeff meeting my family. Why? Because families are weird. They interrogate the hell out your new mate. Granted it's to ensure he or she is truly worthy of joining the family and its unique but cool weirdness.

5. Fern says she can't commit to what she wants for lunch which therefore means she should be alone. Major fucking slippery slope. I can commit to what I want for lunch because I order the same fucking thing... if you can get me to commit to a restaurant. I still got married though. Committing to Jeff and committing to food are super different. Life partner does not equal (is not even similar to) food. This is where Jeff being awesome comes into play-- he puts up with my indecisiveness!

6. I love having the bed all to myself. But we own cats so it's never going to happen. BUT. Fern wants the bed all to herself so she can use half of it for sleep and half of it for laundry. Get a chair for that shit. If you have a bed all to yourself, enjoy the fuck out of it. Don't sully it with laundry! Seriously. That's why people started putting fucking chairs in their bedrooms. For unfolded laundry!

7. I love my best friend (What up, bestie?!). But that never stopped me from dating. Seriously. I don't get this one. How can you love your best friend so much that you have no more room for romantic love? Satire or not, this one makes no fucking sense.

8. I don't tolerate bullshit. Why would anyone tolerate bullshit? I know dating can be filled with bullshit, but that's why you dump assholes and bitches, and marry the good ones, a la Jeff. Also, if, like Fern, you think understanding and patience are bullshit concepts, you're a moron who's handing out your own brand of bullshit. Or we just took a giant U-turn into Fern satire.

9. Sometimes I'd rather hang out with my guy friends. My bestie is a dude. Most of my friends have been/are dudes. Why? I have no idea, but it's not because there's less drama. Guys are some of the most dramatic creatures I've met-- which to Fern's credit, she kind of admits, but then she says, "Boyfriends who let the girl wear the pants in the relationship can be even worse." Dude. It's not 19-fucking-50 anymore. Also, who's to say the people reading your article/blog-thing want a man. Maybe they date chicks.

10. I have trust issues. And Jeff understands that about me because he's awesomesauce.

11. I have an unhealthy relationship with Netflix. I believe this was covered in the first reason. Why we must repeat it, I don't know. But we did. So who cares that I watch a shit ton of Netflix? Jeff doesn't care. He teases me, but we pay for it. So I'm going to fucking use it.

11a. Fern didn't have an 11a, but my God, she has shitty reasons for not dating, and it's really fucking grating on my nerves.

12. Fern's after-work schedule doesn't allow for a relationship. I don't get it. You had time to write a shitty fucking article about being undateable. I think you have time to date.

13. Fern may have finally figured out how to be slightly satirical. Romantic notions make her want to vomit, but she also bitches about wanting someone tall, dark, and handsome. So either she's going for satire at this point, or she's really fucking confused. P.S. I don't like traditional romance so you actually can be dateable and only want a big ass bag of chocolate for Valentine's Day even though you hate Valentine's Day because it's stupid and made-up.

14. Fern likes her pint of ice cream sans man. Fuck that. I will cuddle with Jeff while eating ice cream that he so kindly picked up for me because I was feeling sad. It's nice to have a husband who knowingly lets you eat your feelings while cuddling with you and watching Netflix.

15. Again, it's not 19-fucking-50. You don't have to be great at cooking and cleaning, Fern! Our bed hasn't been made in days. So there!

16. Fern wants a relationship so she can have free lunches. What-the-fuck-ever.

17. Fern says she's too picky. No fucking shit. I just... fuck it.

The point is, Fern doesn't fully understand satire. Or dating. Or how much glorifying the single life enrages me (glorifying marriage also enrages me because it's just fucking life).

Call Me Potato Head

It's come to my attention that my post evoked sadness in people. Some people felt sorry for me. Please know this was not my intent. I was not seeking a pity party. If it makes you feel sad or feel sad for me, that's fine. I just need you to know that my intent was not some self-loathing-please-feel-sorry-for-me blog. Rather, it was me speaking out against what people think I SHOULD be doing with MY life despite their lack of knowledge of what it's actually like to be me and live as me.
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You know those metaphorical bubbles that surround each of us? Mine isn't very large, partially because I'm a tiny person, but mostly because I'm not ashamed of who I am, what I do, etc. I mean, I recently took one of those quizzes circulating Facebook...

My response? I laughed because it's kind of true, especially when I'm online. You see, computer mediated communication has a disinhibition effect, Basically, I say shit I might not say in person. Most of what I say online, I would actually say if I were standing right next to you. Depending on who you are, I might not say what I'm about to say. Thank God for computer-mediated communication (do blogs count?) because your desire for me to birth a child needs to fucking stop. 

Yeah. I typed it. And you read it. 

Don't get me wrong. I want to have a baby. And it's not some far off in the distance thing either. I even remember the exact moment I realized I was ready. I was watching fucking Twilight (whatever the last one is called). I was sitting in a fucking movie theater, watching a fucking stupid cinematic (ha!) rendition of a ridiculous "book" that I stupidly like when I realized I was mentally ready to have baby. There was some husband gazing involved in all of that, but it's hard for me to get over the fact that I had such an important revelation during fucking Twilight.  

All of that was more than a year ago. I'm not pregnant. We aren't trying (I really hate that word. Blah!). Why? We (really just me) are not financially ready to have a baby. Literally. No one is ever financially ready to have a child. Kids are fucking expensive. And I also shamefully accept help paying for my bills. I don't want the money, but not taking it would be irresponsible. And if you think this is all bull shit. Think again. The people who want me to have babies the most would turn on me if I actually had said babies because I'd be just another person shamelessly sucking off the teat of the government. Except! My mom wouldn't let that happen because she's just like that. And this is why someday I plan to repay her with a condominium. At least I hope-- I hope I have the money to do so, and I hope she actually let's me do it. She's one of the most selfless and understanding people I know.  

But anyway.

I know what you're thinking. I have a job. I could apply for another job. Yeah. Been there done that. I, a well-educated chick with an advanced degree, applied for bank gigs, secretarial gigs, state gigs, any gig other than fast-food and prostitution (is there an application process for that?). I even applied at Menard's, and they wouldn't hire me! I worked at Lowe's Home Improvement for fucking years, and I knew a former employee of the very Menard's I applied. Nothing. 

So I continue to teach part-time at a local community college. I quite like it minus the fact that I can't provide for my family in the ways I want to provide (I seriously make what equates to about minimum wage, and I don't even have job security since I work on semester to semester contract basis*). I can't even justify having a baby. So every time you tell me we should have a baby, a little part of me dies inside because I feel guilty and ashamed. But mostly I feel sad. I have a wonderful husband, and I know he'd make a great father. He even wants to be a dad, like yesterday. 

So the next time you tell me I should have a kid, remember you're not jut expressing your desires, you're also stabbing and twisting a knife deep inside my soul. I can't have what I want, and I remind myself every damn day. Society reminds every damn day, especially since I'm slowly but surely creeping along to thirty. So I don't fucking care what you want. If you so desperately want me to birth a child for you, buy the fucking diapers, the fucking food. You may also want to save up for possible complications related to my size and my pre-existing health conditions as well as college tuition. And, oh, by the way, do you have money for my student loans and car insurance? No? Then shut the fuck up.

* I refuse to break it down because it makes me more sad, and you can Google it anyway. I make somewhere in between all those numbers they throw around. 

Wisconsin Part 3... AKA I Gorged Myself on Sweet Treats

Seriously. I ate A LOT. I think I may have indulged more than Jeff. Of course that's really not a surprise considering I'm the one constantly justifying purchases of several Ben and Jerry's pints. But I digress.

After checking spending the afternoon in downtown New Glarus munching on this...

I have no idea what it is because I was trying to eat it, hold my purse, and hold a bag of other treats so I could proceed into another place filled with sweet treats. This mystery chocolate item came from The New Glarus Bakery. I also got a delish mini cream horn from the bakery. I did not take a photo because I was too busy annihilating it. Don't let my flat ass fool you. Seriously. After eating the cream horn and the chocolate mystery, we checked out The Maple Leaf Chocolate and Cheese Haus. Again I have no photos. I was way too busy eating. Their fudge was wicked good though. They even had a batch made with Serendipity!   


Somehow after an afternoon filled with beer and chocolate, I still needed dinner. I'm a sucker for good Italian. So we hit up Tutto Pasta Trattoria. It was amazeballs! I ordered spaghetti carbonara.

I don't know if it was my lack of weight or lack of looking Italian, but as soon as I said, "I'll have the spaghetti carbonara," the waiter said, "You know that comes with pancetta which is basically fancy bacon?"

Duh. Isn't that half the reason people order carbonara? Who doesn't like fancy bacon? Hell, they make Fakin' because regular bacon is so awesome vegetarians don't want to give it up completely. So, yes. I know what the fuck pancetta is! Bring it on!

Jeff had something with mushrooms. So I pretended it didn't exist. Seriously people. You're eating fungus!

We also had blueberry cheesecake! Yummy!

After dinner, I really wanted to check out this cute shop, Little Luxuries. Thank God they had that Maggie pillow (from the first Wisconsin blog post) in the window. That's how I got Jeff to let me go inside! The shop was super cute. I could have purchsased several items, but I settled on the Maggie pillow and this gem of a mug.

What can I say? I love Scrabble and tea.

Overall, we had a good time. Madison and its outlying areas have plenty to offer. I hope to return because surprisingly a weekend is not enough time to see everything I wanted to see in Wisconsin.

P.S.
I also recommend the following places, but sadly I do not have photos to post (probably because I was too busy eating, or I got lazy because I was so full from all the delicious beer and food):

The Capital Tap Haus

The Chocolate Shoppe

The Adventures of My Hair...

You read that correctly. My hair and I take adventures. I'm not really the adventurous sort, but I get bored with my hair. Sometimes I just get sick of it. So I chop it off. It's a very cyclical pattern. So maybe it's not so adventurous. Either way, I still think my latest chop was rather... well adventerous. Sorry. My brain just isn't working as well today, and I don't feel like a trip to my thesaurus. And yes, I know they exist online, but I'm feeling that lazy. Regardless...

This is my standard look minus a bit of the blonde. And look at the dashing young fellow!

I used to just let Leslee, my hair stylist, who is by far the best I've ever had, do whatever she pleased when I came in wanting to cut it off. To some degree I still let her do whatever she wants. She is the expert after all. I may be biased though...  my hair is basically her hair. She's been cutting it since I was four or five, and she's been dying it since I was in college! I'm pretty sure she knows more about my hair than I do. Seriously though, if you want a rocking haircut and dye job, you should go see Leslee. She even uses animal and environment friendly products! Anywho... I found Pinterest and visited Leslee, which lead to this...

The Pinterest photo inspired Leslee (P.S. That vacuum cleaner in the background is amazing. You should get one.). She tailored everything to my face and skin tone because she's a pro.

I loved it! But because my hair grows so fast, the textured ends started to drive me nuts. I'm not one to visit the salon every four weeks. What can I say? I'm lazy! I like low-maintenance hair. BUT. And this is one very big BUT. I have a bucket list... which includes really chopping my hair off. So with the help of a photo and Leslee's skills and imagination, I got this.

This is the shortest my hair has been since the time my mom made Leslee give me... well, I call it bowl cut. It was the worst haircut of my life (Sorry, mom!). I don't blame them. I was in Kindergarten, and my mom didn't know what to do with my hair. I'd probably do the same thing. Thankfully, this one is super cute! Sexy even? I think so. Jeff even likes it!

To some of you this might seem like a lame adventure (and I may seem plain Jane, but you didn't know me when I had bright red streaks in my hair!), but for me it's a bold one. It's the first time I've gone short in awhile. It's the first time I've gone short and actually liked it. It's not that Leslee ever gave me bad haircuts. I just didn't know what the hell I was doing.  I could never recreate the magic at home. Hell, I only started using a curling iron three years ago... and I still barely use it. I'm not a wash and go gal, but I'm not one to spend hours on my hair.

So what's next? Growing it all back out! It's what we (Leslee and I) do. Hair is supposed to be fun. Every time I sit in her chair, it's an adventure. I may not travel or try exotic foods, but I (with the help of a professional) I experiment with my hair. So for now, I'll just mess with the color when I'm able to fit in a trip to Leslee. And a year or two from now, I'm sure I'll be right back where I am now.

End of the Year

I fell off the grid again. I seem to be doing it a lot lately. What can I say? Life doesn't always make blogging easy... well, really the tough part is actually sitting down to write.

Regardless, I'm here now, offering a bit of an end of the year wrap up... let's face it, it's the holiday season, and that means my resurfacing will likely occur after the new year.

So what have I been up to? Do you care what I've been up to? Honestly, I wonder how many people actually mentally answer that question, let alone read my blog (Hi, Rachel!). But I digress.

1.

Why, yes. I got a tattoo. For those of you who cannot decipher the above script, it reads: Darling. It's nothing bold or showy or even visible to the public on an everyday basis. But it's mine-- it's a reminder of who I am, who my Grandma was, and who I should continue to be.

I always wanted a tattoo, but I never had a reason to get one... the permanence scared me. I never thought I'd have a reason to get one, but then life happens. I didn't realize how much my Grandma meant to me until it was too late. I loved her... I thought she was a bad ass. I just never grasped the extent of her bad ass-edness (God, I wish I had come up with a better word) until she was no longer my Grandma--she was a lifeless vessel in a hospital bed. I suppose I should take comfort in the fact that I was able to recognize how amazing she was, even if it was too late.

Now here I sit, tattooed with my Grandma's signature. It's as if she marked me... a Darling-- forever an independent, strong, and hardworking soul. Some people say you regret tattoos after you age, wrinkles everywhere. Maybe... but not this tattoo. How can you regret being a Darling? You can't. How can you regret something so cathartic? You can't. How can you regret a daily reminder of your strength? You can't.

So here's to you Grandma Darling!

2. I have actually baked in the last month or so. I never blogged about it. I meant to... I even took pictures!

Jeff actually helped too! Sifting is time consuming. So if there's a free set of hands, you grab them. Someone pours while someone sifts. And speaking of time consuming...

Thank God for my KitchenAid Mixer. Beating egg whites for twenty minutes with a hand mixer... BLAH! Honestly, making an Angel Food cake (that's what I made... I think I forgot to mention that earlier) from scratch should require a KitchenAid Mixer. Grandma used to make hers with a handmixer, but then she got one of these for her birthday... converted! Speaking of her birthday, this is actually documentation of me making a birthday cake for her. Weird? Maybe. Do I care? No.

Especially because I got to eat Angel Food cake and ice cream. Honoring your totally awesome Grandma, honing your baking skills, and eating a tasty dessert is quite amazing. P.S. If you want the recipe, let me know. Sometime I'll get it posted to my other blog.

3. Jeff and I put out Christmas decorations.

This is not everything we have... there are red and green glittery tea lights, a Christmas village, a make shift tree of Christmas cards, and a bunch of other stuff. Seriously, it looks like Christmas threw up in our living room. It's kind of weird too-- I'm a "Happy Holidays" kind of girl, but you'd never guess from the looks of this place! And yes, Maggie gets her own stocking!

We also have a tree. It's fake, but it's still exciting to have a "real" fully grown Christmas tree!

4. Grading papers and napping... speaking of napping...

What a Drought...

Jeff and I went hiking today... I had a blast even though Jeff whined, and the trail was a bit disappointing. Don't get me wrong, it was beautiful, but compared to my first visit it was dismal. It was a sad but a vivid illustration of just how bad the drought is right now.

Last year with my brother...

Today...

 

Despite the lack of water I still managed to have fun. It's hard to believe such places exist, especially so close to home. So far we've conquered two trails at Ferne Clyffe... only sixteen more to go. 

Tuesdays with Maggie... Belated!

Tuesdays with Maggie is back! I know it's Wednesday, but I got sidetracked yesterday... so this week, we shall have a belated Tuesday with Maggie.

Maggie and I have a new home. Maggie hasn't quite adjusted since her couch and favorite blankets haven't made it to the new place yet, but she appears to already have a new favorite spot. She sits in the window everyday.

Our old place had very little natural light-- we were surrounded by beautiful shade trees. They kept the house cool, but unfortunately for Maggie and I, this meant very little exposure to sunlight unless we left the house. Needless to say, Maggie never liked the house. It didn't help that we didn't live with Jeff either!

You may be wondering why I'm going on about the supposed wonders of natural sunlight and Maggie's distaste for so much shade. Well, cabin fever is not a myth. If you don't have enough vitamin D (or is it B?)--which you can get from... tada sunlight--- you may develop symptoms of depression. So the lesson of the day/week is make sure you get some sun... not too much though. We don't want any sun burns!

Everything's Better at the Beach

And that includes weddings, especially my wedding. 

But that doesn’t mean things go as planned. Two hours before my sunset beach wedding, I was picking up a rental car, trying to shove dinner down my throat, and make it back to my mom’s condo in time to get ready. Sure it was a bare foot wedding, but I still had to curl my hair, hair spray the shit out of it, squeeze into a dress, and chew some gum. The gum was of course located at my condo… my father ran down the beach, upstairs to my condo, burst through the door, and broke into a panic all over a piece of gum. Of course, it took several minutes before the words gum managed to leave his mouth, leaving my husband and man of honor to think I was getting cold feet (I wish I could have seen it, and I wish you could see the impression my friends do of my father bursting through the door looking for my man of honor). Despite time constraints and a parking tag left behind at Alamo or whatever the hell the car rental place was called, I managed to get ready in time. Now, since I was having somewhat of a feminist wedding, my niece walked me down the “aisle.”

I thought it was a great idea… until we actually started walking. She’s five, and I’m spewing shits and fucks all over the place. I wasn’t afraid to get married. I just wasn’t ready to wear a dress, read my vows, and listen to Jeff’s vows in front of thirty people. Why? I knew I was going to cry, and I don’t cry in front of people. I didn’t even cry during Marley and Me. That’s how good I am. But not this time- damn the photographic evidence (No, you may not see it).  

Nonetheless, I read vows, I cried, I listened to vows, I cried some more, and I got married. The only thing missing was Maggie!