You Ask, You Get

This past week has been a blur, actually I don’t even know if I can call it that. Monday was one of the longest days ending with a date with my toilet. I was hungry and jello did nothing for the hunger pains I felt. I focused on getting through the day at the office and coming home to drink what has to be the vilest drink ever created.

Tuesday was my date with my doctor to evict Charlie (aka the mean fibroid) and one of my wonderful friends came with me on this little journey. I think I talked about food non-stop until they put the Verced (valium’s cousin) in and after that, well I don’t remember anything. In fact, if anyone wants any details on my surgery, you would have to ask Amy, she talked to my doctor, asked questions and conveyed the details to family and friends. I have pictures too! Of course I can’t really explain them since I really don’t have a clue. I did learn that Charlie had a friend, Dexter, who was kicked out as well as a random staple from a gallbladder surgery six years ago on my right ovary. I can point that picture out for you if you would like to see that one.

In fact, it has only been in the past couple of days that I can actually string words together and they make sense to anyone besides myself. I have been avoiding the phone most of the time, staring at the television, napping and pushing myself to hard. I have been taken out once by another wonderful friend and halfway through our little trip she could tell I was fading fast. Then I opted to hit Target yesterday, felt moments of weakness while in the store and stopped off to visit friends. Then back home for a nap.

In all of this, the one thing I was counting on (naive, stupid, foolish, insert whatever adjective you would like) the boy to check in on me. He knew about the surgery but not once did he check in to see if I was okay. It was a sign that I had been begging God for for quite some time.

Loving someone is something very special and should be treated as such but sometimes, that love is not returned. The reasons can be endless but sometimes they are as simple as the person just didn’t have the capability to love the depth and breadth that the other person has given them. I cried tonight for the first time in quite some time about this, all the while holding my bloated belly to minimize the pain.

I now have to listen to my friends and understand that they saw the boy in a light that I could not see him in and accept that I did my best. While I am healing from surgery, I will also be mending my heart. All I can say to anyone out there dating, if you talk of a future, marriage, children or even utter I love you, please mean it with all of your heart. This is not a game, being in a relationship is special and it is not about what you drive, the labels you wear or the college you went to; it is about growing with someone, sharing yourself with someone and accepting the good, bad and ugly. It is also about being honest with yourself. When you hide aspects of your life, it becomes more difficult to maneuver around the longer you date one person. I was willing to share everything yet you ducked and ran for cover. I hope that all of this time has allowed you to heal but I suspect you started your cycle again with another and hopefully she won’t ask questions.

I asked, I got; now to move forward.

I Miss Bill. . .

Much to the chagrin of my parents, I voted for Bill Clinton in ’92, thus beginning the “what did we do wrong with regards to raising her?” It was my first Presidential race that I could vote in and I was looking all over the place to see which man would listen to my generation.

For those of you who remember MTV when they actually programmed more music videos than reality fare, then you will remember Choose or Lose, the campaign to get out the vote for the younger set. I was undecided during my first presidential race and seeing how my parents are very much conservative Republicans. . .well they thought I would naturally vote for Bush. But after really getting into the process, learning about each candidate and well, MTV courting the candidates I was leaning towards Clinton. For a girl from SE TN that hadn’t seen that much of the world, I was impressed with how Clinton created a grassroots campaign AND that he was willing to do a town hall meeting with Gen X.

So I voted for Clinton and was impressed with how he engaged with my peers. Easy sell I guess you can say but I have never regretted my decision and my parents. . .well, they considered disowning me but that whole only child thing came up and they are getting older. . .so they lecture me from time to time and mom probably prays for me daily that I will finally see the light.

This past election was a bit tougher for me because I was never on the Obama bus but didn’t like McCain. Thank goodness technology has caught up because I got to write in my vote via a computer and stood by my convictions that having a Clinton in the White House was a good choice. My father shed tears that day after receiving my text stating who I voted for but again, they will eventually need me so disowning me really isn’t in the cards for them.

So imagine my surprise and delight when I saw on the news that my man Bill had headed over to chat with the North Koreans to wrap up the deal of releasing two of our journalists! I am thrilled that they were released and brought back to America but I was also thrilled that Clinton had been a part of the plan. Sure, there is a lot of back story to the deal and I know that our former President is not the sole reason we got them back but it is nice to see our former leaders still participating.

And that my friends reminded again that I miss Bill. . .I really should get a bumper sticker stating that!

Well, I Can Strike That Off of My To-Do List!

I have pictures but my laptop is acting up, so I will do a separate post with pictures. . .

The 21st birthday party was fun and tiring and interesting and did I mention tiring! Rach was a rockstar by the way, Miss Thang rocked it with her eight month pregnant belly way better than my old self. And the evening started with me getting lost. . .

I have been to her house many times and each and every time I take a wrong turn. It never fails. I got to take a tour of Dickerson Road at one point all because I get the turns all wrong. Oops. I finally made it to her house and got to visit with the kiddos and her hubby. We had a blast just chatting and then I thought, man, I am ready to hit the hay. Then I remembered the reason I was there and that I couldn’t head home and get into my jammies.

We headed next door to her mama’s house to get the food ready and wait for the kids to show up. Yes, I called them kids. And after meeting them and listening to their conversations, I realized that I had nothing in common with them, period. Bonaroo? Please, I cherish my sleep, my bed and my shower too much to go to a music festival where none of that would happen or be there.

At 10:30 (past my bedtime, I can assure you) we loaded up on the party bus. Which is quite cool and should hell freeze over and I actually get married, I want to go on one of these for the bachorlette party. Of course, the party would start earlier than 10:30. The group was smaller than anticipated but that was fine for us since the chances of the group getting out of control or losing someone diminished with the cancellations. The bus had a DJ that played whatever we wanted, of course I wrote down a request for Def Leppard and AC/DC. Was it loud in there? Umm, yes and I have been known to rock out in my car, but the lateness of the evening coupled with my desire to curl up and sleep equaled a potential headache.

They wanted to stop at a Tiger Mart for some beer, so after much gawking my onlookers, the kids got their beer and off we went to the first club. Birthday girl requested a place called Play. Never heard of it, but I told the DJ that was their first choice, so off we went to Play. As we pulled up, I noticed two girls intertwined and pointed it out to Rach. She looked at me like I had two heads or maybe my dress had somehow fallen and my boobs were on display for all to see. Then she started laughing and said, “Amy, you know what kind of club Play is right?” Umm, nope, not a clue. “It’s a gay club, they have drag shows. Tribe is right next to it, Church St is the corridor for the gay community” I so didn’t know that! Oh goody, are we going in, cause I can so mark this off of my to-do list and ooh, I can blog about it too!

Well, let’s just say that with my soccer mom looks (I was in a madras dress, sweater neatly tied around the shoulders) and Rach’s pregnant belly, we were a sight to be seen. I leaned over and said, “Look, if anyone asks, we’re together and I knocked you up, k?” And then I got my first, real live look at drag queens in all their glory. And they were beautiful. Seriously, whatever good thoughts I had had about my body disappeared as soon as I saw the queens dancing around on stage and lip synching.  There goes those 21 pounds I have lost. . .all for naught because they looked fab!

I love to people watch so this is one of the greatest places to go! And there were people from all walks of life there, straight, gay, bi, you name it, they were there. It was nice to be in a club again after all these years and not feel like I was being looked at as if I were a cut a meat. I have been asked why the kids chose to go there and quite frankly, I think they made the right choice. No one bothers you there, young women can go there with their girlfriends to dance and drink the night away and not worry about some creep trying to hit on them.

After the show, the dance club portion opened. I was going to just stand close to the bar and people watch but then a song came on that made me want to dance. So off I went to dance with the birthday girl and another friend. It even snowed while I was dancing! Had I not felt like such a dork in my outfit I would have stayed out there and danced but I knew that all good things must come to an end, so I headed back up to where Rach was to people watch, giggle and know that my time as a club rat had already passed.

The kids then headed to Graham Central for their last bit of clubbing and we wisely chose to stay on the bus to chat. I hated that place when I was younger, so there was no way I was about to go into that place now.

I had a blast hanging out with Rach, seeing what is cool to do now but the 2AM bedtime is something that I do not miss. Sometimes when you get older, you start to think about the good ole days and forget what it was like to function on three hours of sleep or the fact that the night’s drinking is still quite with you even a day or so after the party. I still love my Jack and Diet but I know my limits and am thankful that just like my teen years, my 20s are firmly in the past. I love that my friends think a good time is getting together to grill out and chat. That their kids call me Miss Amy or even Aunt Amy. Their cuddles, kisses and laughter make my evenings now. And with another little Spence on the way, I can’t wait to see his/her personality. I also can’t wait to see my BFF’s little boy be born, so I can play with him and watch his parents smile after all they have endured to get him here.

Getting older can be a pain but I wouldn’t trade it for all the clubbing in the world.