Broken Hearts

When I was young, 6 or 7 I think, I had an acid wash jean jacket. I loved that thing. It had large purple hearts sewn on it and across the back stitched into two intertwining hearts was the phrase, "Heartbreakers Club" The collar and cuffs of the jacket were that springy cloth, almost like sweatbands. I wore it everywhere, even made up a secret club for the jacket, one that no one but me was allowed into. I bragged about how exclusive my club was and everyone wanted to borrow my jacket.

I was wayyy to cool. *eye roll*

I can't remember what happened to the jacket, I'm sure I out grew it pretty quickly and it was soon donated to the church. It's funny the things you treasure as a child, the things that make you cool to other kids.

It's much harder, damn near impossible to get that same joy as an adult, or to be cool in your 20's. I mean, I manage to do it, but I'm sure for others it's difficult.

I used to wear my heart on my sleeve, physically and metaphorically. Now I just do it metaphorically. It's just as easy to be hurt now as it was then. Somethings even years can't teach I guess.

Christmas

I know, I know, it's still to early to do a Christmas post. I'm going to do one any way.


I used to be a real Grinch during the Christmas season. I remember in Middle School how much I hated what I considered a pale imitation of a pagan festival put on by Hallmark. Still, as Christmas got closer I'd get a childlike joy that I worked hard to squash into a tiny, bitter, little ball by Christmas Eve. I'd sit through Christmas services at church with a smirk on my face, attend my Great-Aunts Christmas Eve Party with an eye roll and a plead for my parents to let us leave in an hour. After the party we would always drive around looking at Christmas lights, I would pretend I was asleep in the car. We'd get home and Mom would make us change into the most horrific matching Christmas pajamas in the world. My sisters and I would dutifully put them on and go to bed.

The next morning we would all wait for our Grandparents to arrive, open our presents and after everything was open a terrible, awful, hateful thought would run through my mind: Is this it? Even as a preteen monster I felt awful for feeling that way. I couldn't figure out what I was missing, why Christmas stopped being fun, why I wasn't happy or excited for it any more.

It wasn't even about not getting what I wanted for Christmas, my parents always pulled out all the stops and I'll be the first to admit that my sisters and I were incredibly blessed and even spoiled by them during Christmas. It was something that I couldn't understand. Why was Christmas always such a huge build up and then such a huge letdown?

I felt that way until my Senior year of High School.

Gary Allen - Not the Singer

My next traumatizing collegiate dating experience was with Gary Allen. Gary was hot, I'm talking red hot. So hot that he turned me into a gibbering pile of goo with one look.

I met Gary while I was doing a bake sale for my honor society. Gary was at the next table in full army dress and was busy handing out pamphlets, trying to get college kids to sign their lives away, and being hot - mainly being hot. He was there with a Marine and an Air Force recruiter. I was there with fellow honor society member Anika.

Anika is/was completely beautiful. Gary kept staring at our table. I kept avoiding eye contact and figured he was interested in Anika. I'm cute in a dorky, girl-next-door kind of way, but in no reality was I on Gary's level. Gary comes over to talk to us. We talk for a good 10 minutes.

Apparently we were flirting, I thought I was just being friendly, but I get those two things mixed up a lot.

He walks away to talk to his armed forces buddies. Anika tells me that he's totally in love with me and I need to have his babies. I agree.

He comes back over and talks for another 20 minutes or so and asks for my number. I'm shocked. We go out a few times, but more often than not we hang out in the bedroom of the townhouse I share with 3 other girls.

He always comes straight over after work, always dressed in fatigues and always undeniably good-looking. I begin to notice not so little things though. Like he makes severely inappropriate and sexist comments about women constantly. I was a Woman's Studies minor at the time so that's always a bad move. I let it slide because he's cute.

I notice the imprint of a ring on his left hand. I ignore it because he's cute. One night he comes over with the ring on. I ask him about it.

Him: "I'm not married if that's what your asking, but if I was would it matter?"
Me: Um, yes it would matter, I would never date someone who was married. I couldn't hurt another woman like that knowingly.
Him: Well I'm not married, but obviously if someone is unhappy enough to cheat things aren't working so it's not like it's a real marriage. Would you really stop seeing me?
Me: Yes, of course I would. There is no excuse.

The conversation ended there because we started making out. Yes, I'm a terrible person, yes I was extremely stupid. But I'm telling you, he was just soooo good looking, and the high that I got from someone that hot being attracted to me made my head swim.


I saw him once after that it very, very far from pleasant.

So Gary Allen wherever you are please go DIAF. As for me I've been doing penance for my vanity for two and a half years now. The karma police totally got me.

Who's a what now?

Have you ever been dreading something. I mean really dreading something, enough so that you screen your calls, avoid everything to do with whatever your issue is, get angry, really angry, pout, stomp your foot, justify your avoidance to everyone, even yourself?

Well, I was/did. The funny thing about situations like that, they are never as bad as you know that they will be. In fact, for me they usually turn out better than I could have imagined.

I've always been a pretty lucky person. I'm not saying bad things never happen to me; they do quite often. However, I cannot even think of a time when that bad thing didn't lead to something better.

My sisters had a terrible car accident - we've all grown so much closer and more appreciative of each other.

I'm stuck in a terrible job, while working that job someone comes in and offers me a better one.

My car self-destructs on a 4 lane highway during rush hour - I get myself a brand-spanking new car (with the associated car payments of course. You can't have EVERYTHING)

I become terrified that my SO is getting freaked out about our future, he brings up where we will live when we get married in a few years.

It's a funny kind of life. It's also pretty full of win.

Sad Pandas

It could be boredom, it could be confusion, it could just be that I don't have a therapist at the moment. Whatever the reason I'm here. I doubt I'll make too many posts as I tend to blog like I live my life. I'm very energetic about it for a few days/weeks and then get bored and go watch tv or play Oblivion.

Yes I'm awesome.

I get super emo a few times a month and like to poke fun of myself whenever it happens.