the january update: second edition

The year just keeps rolling right along and I've gotta say, hallelujah January is over.  Under normal circumstances I would probably limit that comment to my readers in Wisconsin but I think this year we can ALL agree it was a horrible month for weather.  Even you southern states out there.  I mean yikes, really?  How many days of negative temperatures can someone take before they just decide to pack up and get the hell outta dodge?

The answer is probably a lot of days because most people aren't sissies like me.

Never in my 17 years in Wisconsin (oy, shit, it's been that long) have I experienced such miserable cold.  When the aptly named "Polar Vortex" came shooting down from the butthole of the north pole earlier in the month (and a couple more times throughout) I was lucky enough that my car started up just fine each morning.  Well, I'm sure it would have the morning the garage door chose to not open because the opener-motor was frozen from the -55 temperature, but that's beside the point.  Thank god for @klreynol for a ride to work and Miss T for one after (when the door opened just fine.)

Other than mentioning the cold outside, there really wasn't much that happened throughout the month.  It was just really, really cold.  In case you didn't hear me the first time, natch.

I got the flu (read about it here) so that just sucked.  Do you know anyone who is high-functioning when they get sick?  Like, they get nailed with puking and a fever but they still manage to do things around the house and keep themselves entertained?  No?  Me neither!  How about that!?  I was bummed my house still looked like a dookie after sitting around in it for three days and it's funny how you make yourself so incapacitated while being sick.  Even though I was about 98% alone during it with only the cats to witness my actions, I still felt like I had to look more sick than I really was because that's just what you do.

Keep the frown on your face, leave your hair looking like a pair of squirrels got in a fight in it, and don't bother putting on jeans or a t-shirt because your hoodie and sweats will suffice.  I probably would have felt better a bit sooner if I had been able to open a window or something but to do so would mean the life-force I so desperately clung to would be sucked out of my body.

I'm not dramatic.

There is so much that I want to write about my book right now but I won't let myself do it.  There are two (2) blogs about what has been going on that I've got in the works and I just can't spill the beans quite yet.  I CAN say I finally finished episode III of my series!  I'd finished the big edit of it back in December but when I wrapped it up, I just felt like the ending was lacking.  Plus I had a ton of notes for the book I'd ignored during the editing process and I knew I'd have to wiggle back in there and fix whatever they needed me to fix.

So yesterday I printed the final three chapters out and went to ye old stomping grounds at Starbucks to re-edit them.  Spent seven hours doing it, was pleased, and then today I made the changes to the digital copy.  What surprised me the most today (in a fantastic way) was when I had to start writing a small bit of dialogue between two of my characters.

Let me preface this by saying I haven't felt much of the writing bug lately so it was a chore to do this at all.

Anyway, I start this dialogue and my note on the page says "make Banning feel helpless."  So I think okay, sure, add a few bits to dramatize his situation that he has found himself in.  And as I start typing, something just... clicks.  This idea hits me out of nowhere and I suddenly couldn't type fast enough to get it out.  And I'm laughing and smirking and then eventually choking up because it got reallllll heavy real fast, but I finally solved the riddle of why the ending of my book sucked.  I had to bring it all back around to the beginning, full-circle so to speak, and that was a wonderful realization because it took so much pressure off my shoulders.  The constant thought of "this isn't very good but there really isn't a way to make it any better" is never a good bedfellow.

I'll wrap this up with what my new motto is starting to be.  It took a large part of last year to get over something that I by all means should have gotten over very quickly.  But I didn't.  And for all of the thinking and stewing and festering I did on the situation I didn't really even come out on top of it like I thought I would, nor how I wanted to.  I've always had a problem in being comfortable telling things how they are to a person's face (not a specific person, just in general.)  And not things like "Where was I last night?  Oh, I was at David's house." Or "No, no, no, you look great in that shirt.  Honest injun."

It's more of things like "Hey, here is where my head is at.  I like you, I always have, I think we should get married and live happily ever after."  "Hey, this is my book.  It's long, it took 14 years to write, but it's good and you'll think so too."  I spend too long worrying about what consequences my real feelings will have and I need to stop doing that.  So like the picture says, I need to tell the truth.  And run if need be.

I think it's a healthy form of expression (c:

So, what else happened in January?  I continued my winning streak at Karaoke (...), had a great time at game night @klreynol's house, discovered I'm the shittiest player in the world at Werewolves (I think that was the name, I dunno, I never was one and they kept killing me anyway,) and realized I can roast veggies as good as anyone else.  I started to diet again (and subsequently look better in my own skin,) went back to blond and grew the beard back out to go with my new hairstyle.  I wrapped up the best year my store has ever had, decided I am going to buy a house instead of looking for someplace else to rent, and took the final steps necessary to securing the fate of the Onyxus Chronicles.

But more about that next time (c;

Until then, toodles gang!

when it comes to the flu

As I sit down to write this it has been 72 hours of near isolation, locked in my apartment for the great fever of 2014.  I say that in a "hopeful" sense because in years past I typically get sick once ever 365 days and I'd like to keep it that way.  Oddly enough, the last time I was so sick was a year ago this week, and coincidentally down to the same set of days.  Funny how that happens, yeah? Let's blame Australia.

By this point I am starting to feel like Ariel in the Little Mermaid as I look out the window at the people coming and going from my building and mumbling the words "I wanna be, where the people are.  I was see... wanna see 'em dancing."  You get my drift.  You get my drift even better if you imagine me singing that in a deep (incredibly deep) gravely voice nearly identical to Benedict Cumberbatch.  

It's very sexual.

When I get sick I really get hit hard.  I might have a couple small colds throughout the year but they are never anything noteworthy and certainly nothing I'd complain about.  While I love attention I don't love it for my ailments.  That ship sailed in 7th grade with the galbladder incident and all that bullshit.  When I get sick now it's usually an awful fever, throwing up, the works.  With my fever now gone and my head reattached to my body, I figured I could share a few bits of perspective and a story or two to help me pass the time.  Because while the fever is gone, mama still feels like she got hit by a truck.

This Sunday was the worst day of the fever.  At one point it got up to 104.2 and when that happened I couldn't do anything but sit motionlessly on my sofa with only music playing verrrrry quietly.  The slightest adjustment in my posture and my head would start pounding.  Mom swung by with a load of supplies for me which was incredibly nice of her, and brave, I might add, but when she came in she did say not to go near her so I kept a healthy distance.  I mostly sat on one edge of the couch with my middle and index fingers planted firmly against my temple to keep my head upright.  I couldn't really sleep, it was more like this weird form of stasis.  Only in hindsight do I wish I had been recording it because it was probably hilarious.

Sweating so much I could almost feel it coming out of the pores in my scalp, my sweatshirts kept getting soaked completely through, and my feet were cold as ice.  Because why stop at one thing, right?  I love how when we are sick we do things that make sense to us at the time but in hindsight you kind of shrug and laugh about.  The positions I was in and the clothes... I should have just gone and sat in bed to lean up against the headboard but that would be too easy, and of course I could have shed the sweatshirt for a T-shirt but no, not this guy!  I imagined my brain boiling in my head like a egg dropped on a hot skillet.  Ding ding, order's up!

I know I faked being sick a lot when I was a kid; anything to get me out of school was fine by me.  One time, after we had moved to Wisconsin, I remember chewing up my cereal and I just kept shoveling it in and making my mom think I was swallowing it.  Then I got up (I'd already laid the ground work and said I was a little queasy feeling (despite no fever)) and ran to the bathroom to make the required awful vomiting sounds while spitting the mashed up cereal into the toilet with some milk.  I don't remember exactly but I'm sure she just rolled her eyes and called me in for the day.

That's what I would have done to my own kid, too.  If you're gonna work this hard for it, whatever, go nuts.

I've been wracking my brain for sicky-poo stories and I can really only think of two for you guys.  One is classic and a lot of you know it, but one is just a memory so I'll start with that instead.

I remember all sorts of things from my childhood but there is a lot of it that I don't recall when it took place.  I remember images and sounds but not really the year, mostly because I was too young to know the difference/importance.  Most of the memories I have of the first house we lived in on Lanfair are limited to "birthday" or "that one movie night," because I was 5 when we moved away to the house on Knightsbridge and the bulk of my memory comes from that home.  I do however remember being sick once at the house on Lanfair.

I spent the day on our ugly as sin plaid grey couch, but from what I can remember it was super squishy and comfortable (the way most super ugly couches are, am I right?)  I remember lying face down on the thing for most of the day and I couldn't tell ya what I was watching on TV (probably soaps with my mom) but I remember it was very sunny outside and I was eating a lot of Oyster crackers.  Anytime I see a box of them now I am instantly reminded of that day.

This was the house I was born in, 1333 Lanfair St.  I Googled it.  No, it's not creepy to do that.

I said it's not!

The other memory is from 2010 and it's when I humiliated myself in front of a long standing crush.  I don't think I've told this story in the blog before but if I have, forgive me.  And then get over it.

This particular incident was probably the worst bout of sickness I'd had in years and then it subsequently kicked off the yearly arrival of the same.  I'd made it through Black Friday 2010 at Express and the day just whooped my ass, and as happens now and then it wore down my immune system.  I just didn't know it at the time.  I ended up having the weekend off following that big day and I started it by helping with a family portrait for @caitcd and her family.  It was a gift for her mom but it was a surprise and seeing as I LOVE surprises, I had to be in on it.  I felt fine through the whole thing, did my styling like I was supposed to and then I went to meet my dear friend Jillybean for lunch.

We ate at Buffalo Wild Wings (crucial to the story, trust me) and gorged ourselves on boneless wings and beer.  From there we went to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part I (though we had both seen it a few times already.)  I don't remember exactly if I bought candy or not but I know I bought a soda; I remember sitting through the movie and thinking "Holy Christ am I full!  I shouldn't have bought the soda.  Oof it's just too much."  So the movie ends, Jillybean and I part ways, and then I see I have a voice mail.

It's from my high school crush Josh.  

Now, Josh had "come out" to me earlier in the year (after about four years of us not having any contact) and after he did, we liked to flirt a lot.  There was an attraction there, always had been, and I didn't see any harm in it as we were both in relationships at the time and he lived in Madison on top of it all.  

Josh wanted to get together for coffee because he was in town for the holiday, and would I like to do so as well?  I called him up and said yes of course, and then drove to my parents house to clean myself up a little before going to meet him at Starbucks.  At about that point I started to really wonder why I still felt so full, as I didn't REALLY eat that much at lunch and even if I had, it was now several hours later.  So what the fuck was up?

I get to Starbucks, meet Josh, get my coffee and we sit to start talking.  We tend to have these very fast-paced, blink-and-you-miss-it types of conversations and this was no exception, but after about half an hour he stops what he's saying and goes "Sean, I can't help but notice you're not drinking your coffee."  And then the haze of bemusement in him washes away and three things quite instantly dawn on me: 

1) He's right, I'm certainly not drinking it.

2) I suddenly feel really full.

3) My mouth is getting dry.

So I look at my high school crush with his big brown eyes, sexy shaggy hair, white collared shirt under a sweater and pea coat, and staring him dead in the eye I say "Will you excuse me?  I have to throw up."  

I didn't even wait for an answer.  Starbucks is notorious for having someone in the damn bathroom right when you need it so I instead took off out the front doors, sprinted across the parking lot and ran into the white rocks surrounding the perimeter.  I crouched, pulled my trench coat away, and started heaving.  The highway off ramp was right there and thank god it was dark outside otherwise EVERYONE would have seen me.  The icing on the cake, however, was yet to come.

Finally satisfied I'd gotten it all up, feeling the stringy drool of vomit still on my chin, I look up to see Josh standing not five feet away.  Watching me.  Instantly my stomach wants to drop out of my ass because I am mortified.  He doesn't even laugh, he just says in the most charming and convincing voice ever "Well if it helps this doesn't make you any less attractive to me."  I hardly smiled before I turned and threw up more.  That's why it's important you know what I had for lunch and subsequently why I veered away from BWW for a year or so after.

Anywho, that's all I've got for the sick talk.  I try to only reveal embarrassing stories every now and then so I hope you enjoyed THAT gem.  Someday I'll tell you about the poop in the fitting rooms at Express.  I'm feeling a lot better now; I'm ready for a shower and bed so I can go back to work tomorrow, and that's all there is to say about that.  Check back in ten days for the monthly update!  Ciao!

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a new resolution part III

I wonder how many people sit down on New Years day to write a blog about resolutions?  I've never been one to think I'm original when it comes to that, so it's not like I think I'm the only person in the world doing this.  But is it in the hundreds?  Thousands?  Slap-my-ass-and-call-me-Charlie-millions?  I dunno.  What I DO know is this is the third year in a row I have sat down to sort of hash-out what happened last year and subsequently plan for the year ahead.  Ready?  Good.  I'm not.

2013 was not a great year for me.  I think saying that pure and simple is the best way for me to illustrate it.  In "scrub" terms and for some of you commoners I'll say 2013 was kind of bull shit.  It was one of those "pick me up, knock me down" types of years.  What I'm realizing as I write this is maybe each bad year skips a good one?  For instance, 2011 was an awful awful year but 2012 was damn near perfect.  So maybe you win one and then lose one?

When the year started I knew I was in some sort of trouble but I didn't really know what kind of trouble it was.  You know the feeling when you've maybe... I don't know, boasted a little too highly about yourself and then had to put your money where your mouth was?  For example:  "I know EVERY lyric to EVERY Beatles song EVER written!" "I can eat two ENTIRE medium pizzas from Pizza Hut in one sitting!" "I can run four miles WITHOUT getting tired!" "I can have a fulfilling year without planning ANY of it out and still think it'll be as AMAZING as the previous one!"

I'll let you decide which applies to me although the pizza statement may not be too far from the truth on any given day.  So like I said, when it comes time to shit or get off the pot, often times we spoke too loudly right from the off.

I started with four resolutions in 2013: get published, move out on my own, get in the best physical shape I've been in, go back to my roots of what I'm good at.  I achieved three (3) of them.  I moved out into my own apartment in March, started getting into better shape in June and July and sort-of maintained it (still look better shirtless today than I did a year ago (boom)), and as far as roots go I did get back into writing new material, my form of photography, and cooking.  Some of those fell by the wayside for a while before I moved out, namely the cooking.

They weren't extreme goals to set (apart from the publishing (I'll get to that later)) but that's never the intent for me.  I would never want to set a resolution so high it would be unattainable, nor would I want to set it so low as to have it fall in my lap.  I found a meme the other day and liked it so much that I made my own version of it with a picture I took this summer on one of my runs.

I think the problem with resolutions is our uncanny ability to make it all about fixing ourselves.  Dropping a bad habit, adding more exercise into our routines, whitening our teeth, taking better care of our hair... they are all about fixing something usually outwardly wrong.  What if it wasn't about fixing it but instead examining it, determining the best course of action, and then granting ourselves a do-over?

You might say that's the same thing about fixing it but eat shit, it's my blog and I'll romanticize it how I want to!

Ugh, I just realized I have to go to the grocery store today.

There are all kinds of things I want to do this year but I now feel writing most of them down would be shooting myself in the foot.  I feel like saying some of these things out loud would be to jinx myself.  Last year I decided I was ready to fall in love again, and in a lot of ways I did.  It wasn't full-blown IN love, but I was definitely on the way to it... when it ended in June, it put a damper on the rest of the year.

That's the honest truth.

I still miss Scout, I still think about him a lot and what things might have been.  What they maybe should have been.  But then maybe it being a new year now means I can move on the rest of the way and let the hurt slip off my shoulders.  Being able to say "last year" rather than "a few months ago" seems to put so much more time between myself and the event.  Do you agree?

I want to get into even better shape and I'm not opposed to joining a gym, and I know it takes 21 days to start a routine but I just need to get the determination to commit to those 21 days.  There is a reason gyms get crazy this time of year and then resume to a normal pace by February, and I don't want to be one of "those" people who join just to feel better about themselves.  To that, I suppose we'll see?

So you're probably asking yourself "Well what's the fucking resolution then?  Does he even have one?" And yes, I do.  And while it will be relatively easy once I get off my ass and do it, it is still the most ambitious thing I've ever attempted.

I will be published this year.

Stop the press, holy cow!  I alluded to it in a blog a month or so back but I didn't want to claim I'd get it done by the end of the year because I knew I wasn't giving myself much time to do it the way I wanted to.  My brother has aways been a big proponent of me self-publishing through Amazon and my biggest holdback was the fear of once I published digitally, that would be the end of my book.  An e-book, no less, which is something I never wanted.  I think I speak for most novelists (or self-proclaimed authors) when I say there would be nothing better than holding a physical, bound copy of my book.

After all, I started writing Episode I of the Onyxus Chronicles more than 13 years ago.  13 years.  By now the book would be a teenager entering puberty and having sexy-time thoughts about other people!  I would never want to throw it out to the world to merely be a digital blip on the internet.  But then he told me you can still get your book printed (on demand) and self-publishing does not make you release your rights to the book, you still retain them.  If anything it just makes the book more visible were a REAL publishing company to see it and say "Hey, this is neat, lemme throw money at you."

So yes, the resolution for 2014 is to be a published author.  Doesn't mean I'll change the title of the blog or stop putting myself down for all of my shortcomings as a writer, it just means I'll have a little more street-cred.  That's what the cool kids say, right?  Depending on how it goes, maybe I'll publish Episode II.  And while I'm at it, who knows, maybe Episode III will see the digital light of day as well? Rest-assured, there will be a release party and a subsequent blog of me squealing from the rooftops in excitement.  Stay tuned!

2013 was a year of changing it up.  Taking the proverbial bottle, shaking it as hard as I could, and busting off the top to see what would happen.  Falling in love, experiencing another broken heart, feeling literally broken (thank you busted ankle in March), losing a loved one, and moving along on my own.  It was rolling with the punches, licking my wounds, and just getting back on my damn feet to face whatever came next.  I've never felt that way before.  I've never felt like I had to just keep going because it was certainly going to get better, only because it sure as shit couldn't get any worse.

It's a great drive to bettering yourself.  It's a terrific guide to learning how to start over and rebuild from the ground up.  I've done it before, I spent a year perfecting the art of it, and now I just need to do it again.  Can't be that hard, right?  I'll do what Edmund Lee says I should do.  I'll surround myself with all of the dreamers, doers, believers and thinkers that I know.  And because I fail to see it in myself so often, I'll also surround myself with the people who see greatness within me.

Because if they see it, there surely must be some kind of spark lighting their way.  Have a safe and happy 2014, everybody.  Thank you for getting my fan page past 100 likes, thank you for pushing the blog views over 6,500 last year, and thank you for just listening to what I have to say.  Or reading, as it were.  You are the unofficial family that gives me all the support I need.

Ciao for now (c:

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the december update (1 of 2)

Part I (Part II Here)

Ahhhh yes, we come to it at last.  Not only the final month of the year but also the final blogs of the year.  I thought a few times this month about popping a blog out just to show I was still alive but then I'd find something else that needed my attention a little more and thus was drawn away.  I do feel bad though about letting so much time go by between these... and now that I've said it we can move riiiiight along.  With a little bit of magic, December traipsed right through the door and I was more than ready for it to do so.  So much happened this month (and I wrote absolutely none of it down) that I have to split this update into two, just like I did back in March albeit this will be a smidgen happier than busted ankles and the last of my grandparents passing away.  There is a link to Part II at the top and the bottom of this page, and vice-versa to the next one.  Make sure you read it allllllllll.

When I think of December I think of Christmas and my birthday.  I think of the last week of the year and how in seven days it goes from Christmas Eve to Christmas day to my birthday to New Year's Eve and wraps itself up with New Years day.  Technically that would be the 8th day but who's counting other than me?  Unless you are.  In which case... d'ya want a medal or something?  It is my absolute favorite favorite FAVORITE month of the year because all 31 days feel like they are a holiday to me.  It's the one month of the year when mostly everyone (save for anyone not celebrating the holiday due to religious affiliations) is united for one purpose.

They are shopping for one purpose.  Buying for one purpose.  Kinda being mean to me at my store, but always for one purpose.  Christmas.  I've said before that working retail makes you privy to a very specific type of person.  Being on the other end of people spending money has always been interesting because it can bring out the best in them, but most of the time it just brings out the worst.  Which is fine I guess because it's their money and some people are funny about spending it.

I just love when it's the people who have a shit ton of it but don't want to give it away by any means.

At Pottery Barn we collect donations to St. Jude's Children's Research Hospital every year.  Last year was my first time and I didn't really get into it (sorry), but this year I did because I had a better understanding of the program and how much good it does.  There are a lot of organizations that collect money for children's hospitals, cancer research, etc., but did you know St. Jude's not only uses 100% of the funds raised to research cancer and other diseases but it also gives that research to every other hospital/research center for free?  That they house any families staying with them for free?  That the care they offer is free?  That's pretty special, and I'm typically the last person to give to charity so to get me to buy into it was a big deal.

My annoyingly perfect wrapping.  And no visible tape, thanks very much!

Now, we start the collection process in mid-November and it stops about half way through December, but those weeks are crucial to getting donations in the store.  We even had an incentive of offering handmade gift-tags for any donation a guest made.  You can see them above; I made a point of letting everyone know when they opened my present how much of a do-gooder I was this year by donating.  Aaaaaand suddenly right now I am realizing I've spent way too much time talking about this.  Final bit: I raised over $150 this year for St. Jude's, which is about... $125 more than I raised last year, lol.  It all comes out in the wash I suppose.

At the very beginning of the month Pottery Barn was invited to take part in a wedding show at Lawrence University in the Warch Campus Center, this beautiful addition they made to the school a few years ago that is super fancy for the kids that go there.  The lady running the event wanted us there to set up our own table and then decorate a few others so that prospective clients (it wasn't just weddings, technically it was for any sort of party you were planning) could see what we offer and take the bate.  The day started at 7 am for me, doing the normal opening routines at work and unloading the monstrous shipment that came in from our delivery truck.  Then we loaded up a massive table called the "Cortona" and a couple cars worth of product to haul seven miles or so toward the campus.  I helped set up, had to take off for the store to cover a couple breaks, and then I was done for the day at like... two pm.  I think.

As much as I would have liked to have helped with the event for my store, I had a different calling that evening.

Courtney, myself, Melissa and Barb.  Now lemme explain the tux.

My extended day was due in large part to the fact I had been asked to model a tuxedo that evening for a local company.  I had obligations for work to fill so to make sure I could do everything I wanted to, I took everything else on.  Not that I'm complaing because the exhaustion didn't hit me until the end of the night, but still, it was a lot to do.  From work I drove to the tuxedo rental place for a final fitting, ONLY to discover that the chick had picked up my tux already and that meant I'd only be able to try it on at the campus.  This did not bode well as rarely if EVER do tuxedos fit me.  Chalk it up to the incompetence of the people who do the fittings.

I went home and cleaned myself up and then hurried to the Warch Center because it was kinda snowing/freezing raining outside.  After hunting down the lady in charge because the directions on what the "models" were supposed to do were super sketchy, I found a room of young ladies covered in somewhat... alarming amounts of makeup.  They were wearing HUGE heels, taking selfies, laughing hysterically but nervously because they were uncomfortable, and then of course staring at me and wondering who the hell I was standing in the doorway.

Sean Parker (self-proclaimed author), obviously.  Duh.

Long story short, I find my tuxedo, put it on, and whimper at how bad I'm drowning in it.  I may or may not have swirled in the mirror in the bathroom and mumbled in the voice of a woman in her upper 60's from New York high society "I'm simply drowning in this thing!"  The jacket fit in the shoulders but could easily wrap around my abdomen twice.  The shirt was a billowing blouse.  The vest was SO big I had to take a safety pin to gather it behind me and STILL that fucking thing had room to spare!  How mortifying, but not for myself, just for the company.  Mostly my duty for the evening (unpaid) was to march around and look pretty.  Which obviously isn't hard for me ::tosses hair:: but it was still work, especially after a long day.  And the shoes killed my feet.  So yes, everyone take a good look at me and how bad the tuxedos fit from Dubois.

The event ended up being somewhat of a bust as the bad weather kept people away (and the stupidly-high cost the public had to pay to get in) but it was still fun.  There was very fancy food made by the excellent staff of the Warch Center including but not limited to several types of pies in shot glasses, and of course some area business people it never hurts to get to know a little better.  Specifically Kim Thiel, a wonderful photographer in the area.  She had a terrific booth set up and I spent some time talking to her and her husband throughout the evening.  Obviously Kim took the above picture, which was at the very end of the night when the models all got champagne for the picture and we were posed around a table and fire.  You can't see it, but there is a fire going.  And it was incredibly, INCREDIBLY hot.  I stared into that girl's eyes for like five minutes but it felt like eternity; there was sweat rolling down our faces and we both kept laughing.

Her breath was good though so I can't complain.

After that event I fell into the usual routine the holiday season brings to the mall.  Watched the kids seeing Santa (who is outside our store every year) scream and cry, wrapped loads of gifts people were buying for friends family and loved ones, and just waited patiently for the month to progress.  I'd made friends through a co-worker of mine, @ranitamcdonald, with @mrmrsmills and because of that, had been invited to the Mills holiday party at a country club in the area.  That wasn't until the 21st though so there was some time to kill.

This has been a particularly cold winter so far and it has also been a very snowy one.  The best thing about that is it makes Paolo and Sophia (not so much her) much more snuggly.  Being in the position I'm in at the store (and Courtney as well,) we aren't allowed to take a full weekend off in the month of December.  We can take one Saturday and one Sunday, or some combination of the days, but not together.  So she took two Sundays off and I took two Saturdays and the above picture was how I spent one of them, curled on the couch catching up on like 8 hours of television shows while Paolo caressed my neck in some form or another.  

I'm trying so hard to remember things I did in the interim because the 21st and onward is for the next blog.  That's the real juicy stuff (I know you wanna read it...)  Around the middle of the month I finished all of my shopping with a week or two to spare, which is somewhat typical of me but always comes as a surprise.  I stress out about what to buy for people to the point that it starts taking a physical toll on me (I think that's why my neck started tensing up early in the month) but when I just sit down and either buy it online or just go to the damn store, I finish it all up super fast and there is no harm done.  The neck thing ended up getting worse though.

I shall call her Regina George.

The big purchase for me this month was of course a KitchenAid mixer.  I've always wanted one, as long as I can remember, but never thought I'd get much use out of it.  I mean really, how much can you make with that thing?  I hardly ever bake sweets, I prefer a hand-mixer for mashed potatoes, and generally my culinary talents lay dormant until it's an emergency and I am forced to do something.

I'll tell ya this though; I've had the damn thing for less than three weeks and I've used it probably a dozen times.  From cookies... to cookies, I've been busy.  There was other stuff but I can't think of it now.  The first time I used it I just dumped flour in it to see what it looked like turned on.

No one ever said I wasn't simple.

OH!  I made cupcakes with it today!

That's all for Part I though.  Click the link below (I figured out how to make links!  Maybe I'm not so dumb after all! (Unless it doesn't work (don't tell me if it doesn't work))) to continue the adventure!  If that's what you wanna call it!  Or the story.  A story is more accurate.

Onward to Part II!

the december update (2 of 2)

I assume you already read Part I.  

If you didn't, what's wrong with you?

As I mentioned earlier, I was invited to a holiday party.  This wasn't an Ugly Sweater party or a White Elephant party, but a "Black Tie Event" type of situation.  One where the invitation was like a wedding invite and it stated the words "jacket and tie required."  Now before I go any further, let me state I've never been to an affair like this.  I've been to a fancy wedding before, and I've been to a couple of corporate holiday parties, but nothing like this.  Immediately I went out and bought a bow tie, natch. After a few conversations about said event with some friends, I discovered @markstyleme and Miss T (pictured top right) would also be going, along with the friends I had already made through my co-worker @ranitamcdonald (pictured lower right.)

To say I was excited would be an understatement and really I was just counting down the days until the 21st.  Instead of the year ending in a good week, it would end in an awesome 10 days.  10 days of things to look forward to!  You can't beat that any way you look at it.  Eventually the day was here and I had to work most of it at the store but I was able to get home and cleaned up with enough time to then pick up my fellow invitees.  It is remarkable to look at the pictures of me in that awful fitting tuxedo from the wedding event to then take a peek at me in a suit I purchased during my tenure at Express.

What I just adore about places like Dubois Bridal & Formalwear (where the first tuxedo came from) is that they have ONE job to do and they can't even do it right.  When the man had measured me I kept interjecting what my sizes should be.  He nodded with half an ear, took his measurements (that were horribly inaccurate in the end) and went about his business.  The above pictures are how a tuxedo should fit, ladies and germs.  Without needing safety pins to pull that shit back.

But I digress.

The party was at North Shore Country Club, a place I'd never been to before (something about not being a member, whatevs) but was just a short drive to get to.  To quote Lorde, the night was "lux."  Valet service, an open bar of whatever you wanted, 10-foot long ice sculptures to hold all of the shrimp, lobster and crab legs you could imagine.  There were three areas to choose from for dinner, one with fresh sushi, one with chefs on hand to make whatever stir-fry you wanted (choose the ingredients right there,) and one with "home cooking," like beef tenderloin, fingerling potatoes, chicken and lamb.  There was a alo a huge dessert bar we didn't really venture to but it looked pretty fantastic and I'm sure tasted as such.

There was a live band that played later in the evening and there was a lot of drunken dancing to watch.  @markstyleme left early due to a commitment to another party, but Miss T and I spent the evening together laughing and talking with so many great new people and really just soaking it all in.  Rarely do I get the chance to dress up, to in a sense to become someone else by rubbing shoulders with a different crowd, and just let loose.  But even for us we left around 11:30 because I worked in the morning and had yet another big day ahead of me.  Had we been drunk we could have taken a limo home (for free,) but I couldn't leave the car and alas, I had not had too much to drink.

Earlier in the week (that had been a Saturday night) I was invited to the Packer game against the Steelers by @mrmrsmills through @ranitamcdonald (these @'s are annoying, I know, but I only use Twitter or Instagram handles if the people have them.)  Mills Fleet Farm has its own gate at Lambeau Field (which I didn't know because I'm admittedly ignorant about sports) and of course it has a box.  We wouldn't be in the actual box but we'd still be indoors at the Miller Light Party Deck and it was all already paid for.  I didn't know what the party deck was either but, y'know... c'est la vie.

I went to the Mills household around noon on the 22nd to meet up with the group I'd be travelling with.  After waiting around for a bit we loaded onto a limo bus (never knew there was such a thing (still ignorant as hell)) and began the drive to Green Bay.  Normally this is a 30 minute commute but with game traffic in the northbound lanes and the snowstorm that was going all night and until about 11:30 am, it took an hour in a half.  The drive itself was a blast and there wasn't ever a moment where I thought "I need to get the fuuuuuck out of here."  I sat next to @ranitamcdonald on the bus and laughed the drive away while getting to know the newer people in my life.

Once we got to the stadium we had a short walk to get inside (top left.)  I'd only been to Lambeau once before and it was just a month earlier so this was all new to me.  When you see the stadium from the road it is obviously impressive but walking along the side you just can't imagine the enormity of it and how impressive it really is.  We had our tickets checked several times in our ascension through the stadium (cold as shit outside, too) until we were at the Party Deck.  So you go in these doors (that they open for you) and you're given a lanyard to hold your ticket (bottom left picture) along with a bracelet with two drink tokens.  They explain there are three concession stands in this really long room, two of which are filled with all the free food and soda you want and one of which has the beer.

You get this great view of the field (top right) and if you want to go outside you've got assigned seats as well.  Not the bleachers the rest of the stadium gets but pretty nice plastic folding seats with cupholders.

Because clearly that's the most impressive thing I can mention.

We decided to stick inside for two reasons, 1) we weren't dressed properly and 2) it was just more comfortable that way.  We settled at a high-top table near the windows and hilarity ensued.  There were spilled drinks, spilled cheese curds, a girl who ran past the table at one point and puked on the floor and was then escorted out for being a big fuckin' mess, and of course the screams of the fans outside.

If you wanted hard liquor you had to leave the Party Deck and go to the common area in the main stadium, which was fine.  I went with the girls once to do so and I must say, as nice as it is being inside a heated lounge with leather chairs and all that, you do miss out on some of the spirit going on in the stadium.  The deafening roar of Packer fans is just insane and I really have to hand it to them for coming out and giving it their best, even when the team really isn't.  That's not a jab at the Packers.... but they did lose.  Did you know tickets have sold out for every single Packer home game since 1960?

Now you do.

At one point during the game we decided to go to heaven.  At least, heaven is what they call it unofficially.  It's actually the tippy-top of Lambeau field and you need to have tickets to get up there as it is also the highest point in the city of Green Bay.  There are two jumbo-trons in the stadium but this one is the larger of the two, added to the south end of the field for the 2013 renovation.  Standing up here, above it all, was just incredible.  The sound coming off the field was so intense I just can't describe it.  It was snowing and the snow falling through the floodlights above the field was beautiful.  And it was also freezing cold and the snow was blinding in our eyes (worth mentioning, y'know.)

It was one of those moments I was just happy to be where I was.  With new friends, experiencing something I'd never done before and maybe wouldn't get the chance to again, and at no cost.  After the game we piled back onto the limo bus and made the drive home; it felt so much later than it really was (hardly 8 pm) but that was a testament to the excitement and adrenaline the day had offered.  Then there were just a few days left until Christmas!

Nothing huge happened between events; work got CRAZY in the final days of shopping but we held our own and had a blast.  I officially threw my back out (already had the sore neck) by slipping on the ice outside of my apartment.  I didn't fall (I was holding on to my car) but I tensed my body up so bad that I felt the pop in my neck and that sucked a big one for more than a week after.

On Christmas Eve my boss Courtney and I had our picture taken with Santa shortly before he left the mall for the season and headed back to his home in Montan... the north pole.  I have to say, even though this was his 18th year at the mall, he is still the nicest man ever.  You would never know if he was having a bad day by any means, he is so damn positive about everything.  What's particularly amazing about him is his ability to remember people.  Some of the families that come for a picture have been coming to him since the kids were babies and are now adults, and he remembers them.

Last year when I had started at Pottery Barn, it'd been almost two years since I'd actually seen him because the previous Christmas I had been working in Green Bay.  I'd never spoken to the man, never said hi, but when I would leave from Express every day he would give me a wave if no one was in line to see him.  So imagine my surprise when he walked into Pottery Barn his first day back, saw me, and said "So you're here now and not at Express?"

I about shit my pants.  Christmas magic INDEED!

Christmas this year was a little bit different for the family and I.  We've always been a "Christmas Morning" type of group but this year a few things had to change based on the availability of my nephew Brayden.  He had to go with his dad for Christmas day so we decided to celebrate on Christmas Eve at my sister's house.  At first you kind of grumble if you're not a fan of changing tradition, but then you get over it and get on with it.

In the end it didn't matter because what's important is being with your family.  I learned this lesson from Thanksgiving this year (refer to the November update for more on that) and really it was a lesson worth learning.  We ate a good dinner and then opened our gifts for each other.  My aunt Sally came through again with hysterical gifts (see my dad, above) that cracked us all up.  I got the Keurig I'd been hoping for (time to cut back on Starbucks, I'm sorry to say) and some movies as well as a couple other random gifts.

Belynn serenaded us with such a... soothing... rendition of Jingle Bells, while Brayden busted a move in the corner and Brynley danced her ass off in front.  It was certainly different from what we've done before as a collective unit and in the end I was glad for it.  Change it up and see what happens (more on that in the blog I'm posting tomorrow, so stay tuned.)

After the festivities I went home to prepare the things I needed to for Christmas morning brunch with my parents.  I made @klreynol's family recipe for grape salad, got the cinnamon rolls ready for baking, and then decided it'd be a good idea to try my hand at making stratta.  I always thought it was an Italian dish but I guess it's actually entirely American, based off the idea of a frittata or quiche.  For me, I layered chunks of english muffins, chopped breakfast sausage, mozzarella and cheddar cheese, chopped onions and red peppers, and then topped it all with beaten eggs and then crumbled bacon.

30 minute prep my ass; it took me an hour and a half!

In the morning when I woke up, I popped the stratta in the oven because it had to sit over night.  I made the cinnamon rolls, mixed the Poinsettia cocktails (champagne, cranberry juice and triple sec) and then waited for my parents.  It was the first time in my life I'd woken up alone on Christmas morning, and though it made me a little sad and feel a little lonely, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.  And once my parents arrived it was like any other Christmas before.

We ate brunch and enjoyed the drinks, opened a few more presents we had for each other and then settled into playing a nice game of Life.  I tried showing a card trick Miss T had taught me but I failed miserably at it several times, even after calling her for direction.  Proud to say I've now mastered it.  After the game we went and saw The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, which was absolutely amazing, and then parted ways.  I saw a couple friends that evening but mostly just enjoyed the peace and quiet living alone offers.  It is what it is.  I made some cookies for my birthday party the next day but then it was off to bed as the clock turned on my year.

My birthday, or "Guhhh 28" as I liked to call it.  I went to my parents in the morning for lunch with them, my sister and her two girls.  My brother-in-law had to work, my nephew was still with his dad, and I hadn't thought to bring anyone with me.  And it was again, fine, because I never mind the quiet get-togethers.  We ate stroganoff (I'd been thinking about it for weeks,) mom made a German Chocolate cake, I blew out the candles and let it hit me that I'm older.  I don't necessarily feel older, but if I start to think about it I realize I am.

I realize how my priorities have shifted from what they used to be.  The things that once mattered so much don't really hold any meaning with me as they once did.  It's good and it's bad I suppose... and like I keep saying, it just is what it is.  I don't mind.

My parents recently took in a boat-load of birds from my dad's work and they are housing them in one of the barns they've now outfitted for the venture.  All I wanted to see was the dove.  They have this white male dove named "Dotsy" and while I don't particularly like birds, I couldn't wait to hold him.

Here I am getting emotional now.

I'm not going to get in depth right now because that's best reserved for the post tomorrow, but I will say it wasn't the best year for me.  With 26 being so great, I knew 27 was going to be a difficult one to follow.  The massive undertaking of the "26 Golden Things" project gave me a certain drive and dedication that was sorely missing from this year.  I couldn't help but look at holding the dove as a symbol of change.  A symbol of maybe finding some peace.  I don't think it's so wrong to hope for that, to want that, but it does make me feel silly saying it out loud.  Regardless, I held the damn bird, took a selfie (surprisingly the only picture of me on my birthday) and then put the bird away.

I briefly went home for a quick nap and then I packed up my shit and headed over to Miss T's for my birthday party.  I made a "Guhhh 28" drink dispenser of Poinsettias and I was super pleased people drank it until it was gone.  Last year I made a "#27 Surprise" drink dispenser that essentially tasted as if it were filled with lighter fluid and as a result, I was the only one to drink it.  And subsequently get wasted.

This year I kept the party small and intimate.  I invited the people I see on an almost daily basis, the people that mean the absolute most to me that have kept up with me throughout the year, and the people I wanted to show my appreciation to.  I understand there were a few select individuals who felt betrayed by this, and a few who felt I stabbed them in the back for not inviting them.  To that I would just like to say this: it was my birthday, it was not for you to dictate, and shame on you for trying to make me feel shitty about it.  It wasn't some RAGING party but just a reflection on the year and a simple "You're old, let's have a drink."

I made meatballs and cookies, @klreynol made Crab Rangoon dip, and Miss T supplied ham sandwiches and her artichoke/spinach dip.  There were a few other things to nosh on as well but those were the big ones.  @markstyleme clearly liked my balls.  We chatted and drank, eventually played "The Game of Things" (best game ever (@caitcd and her "wiveo")) and had a delicious cake.  I opened gifts, loved each of them equally, and then mostly everyone left around 11.  @markstyleme, @klreynol,  Scout, and Miss T and J (who live there) stayed though and that was when my night was made.  J brought down one of his guitars (he plays in Road Trip (awesome band (check 'em out here))) and serenaded us.

Now, I'm always massively impressed by anyone who can play an instrument let alone play it well.  But J has the remarkable ability of hearing a song he doesn't know, listening to it twice, and then playing it back on the guitar.  I got tears in my eyes from excitement over this (the same thing happens when I see magic tricks in person, shut up) and we just had a blast.  We talked and drank and sang, and really it was the best ending to a birthday I could ever imagine.  It was one of the best birthdays I ever had, and that includes my 26th and all of the surprises that came with it.  I drove home with a huge smile on my face.

And with that the month started coming to a final close.  The year as well, I suppose.  Tonight I will join @klreynol and Miss T before we head to @ranitamcdonald's house for a bit to celebrate New Year's Eve.  From there we will head to Miss T's, eat and drink and play some games, just in time for 2014 to come swinging through the gate.

So what else happened in December?  Made wonderful new friends in Paul, Kelly and Rachel.  Played "The Game of Things" with Paul, Kelly Miss T and J and laughed so hard over the course of four hours I had a pounding headache from doing so.  Treated my fucked up back, decided I really don't like most beers, and reconnected with Ken after two years of silence.  Stopped hoping for something that'll just never happen, realized our friends are what we make of them, and chose to be content with what I have now.  Ate at a steakhouse for the first time in years, actually loved seeing the second Hobbit movie, got into it with the bitch troll from hell at the Post Office, and FINALLY (and most importantly) realized I can touch my bangs with my tongue.  Grow hair, grow!

And that's all I have to say about that.  Take care, have a safe and wonderful New Year, and I'll see you all tomorrow with "a new resolution part III."  Ciao gang (c;

Did you miss Part I?  Find it HERE

the november update

So I started November with a status update that read "Guh, November.  Ya hate it, right?"  And I must have cast a spelled with those words because the month was over before I knew it.  Really... it went by so fast I have no idea where the time went.  You can tell it surprised Sophia as well; she took a brief moment to stop sleeping on my fucking pillow to say "Wa-HAY, it's over!"  What's funny is that I kept notes of what I did this month (surprise!) and when I sat down to write this puppy I kept reading them and going "Oh yeah, that happened.  Oh, yes, that did as well," but if you asked me to think about the time they each took it's just surprising to me.  That's all.

I like to think October that wraps up Fall but really I suppose it is November (sigh,) or at least this year it was.  Usually Thanksgiving falls just a teensy bit sooner in the month so with it being almost at the bitter end of it this year, it REALLY kicks off the holiday shopping season.  The annoying thing about it is that people didn't really start buying Christmas gifts too much this month (I speak for my own store, no one else's, natch) and instead fell back to what they usually fall back on; Black Friday.  Now for all the stress it causes Black Friday should be a holiday in and of itself, from all of the stress it invokes in people.  And really it's like a bandaid, the sooner it comes the sooner you realize it isn't THAT big of a deal.

But this year with the holiday falling so late you suddenly had everyone screaming "Oh SHIT, Christmas is less than four weeks away!"  Somehow they feel they have less time to shop this year than they did before because, y'know, you can't start shopping for gifts until 8pm on Thanksgiving day.

Oh wait, that's just crap they want for themselves.

The month started with me throwing all of my Christmas decorations up right away.  Technically it started with a trip to Lambeau Field with Miss T to see the traveling exhibit of Superman costumes (check it out, Caramello,) but I digress.

Ok, wait.  I'm lying again.  The month actually started with me singing karaoke in public for the first time ever.  I don't count that mess I was in Chicago when I was 18 and trying to sing AC/DC at the Hard Rock Cafe.  I was also dressed as Superman for this.  At the point pictured below, I was probably singing "Sweet Transvestite" and bringing the house down ::tosses hair::

Again, I digress.

With Christmas decor I figured why the hell not; you don't get much time with them, I live alone, and they make me happy.  And that's logic ya just can't argue with!  It was nice to go through all of the decorations I have and pitch a few, but to also see the things I've collected over the last couple years in one place at the same time.  It feels homey but different seeing as I don't have a full-sized tree this year.  There just isn't the space for it and I'm not one to cram it in the corner just to make a point.

I do have a little silver tree I made last year and finally finished a month ago, and it's all I need for the symbolism of the holiday.  Because of course there are the scattered ornaments, the lights, faux snow and a few well-places garlands and wreaths to gimme the rest of those feelings.  I do what I can.  I did make a fun tree (seen above) from an idea I stole from the Beekman1802 website.  I bought those icicle ornaments maybe four years ago, and then the following year bought more and decided to mimic the way they had displayed them at the time in their store (photo was online.)  So I cut off the top of my parents tree after the holiday had wrapped up and let it die outside in the sun throughout the year.  When Fall came, I pulled all of the pine needles off and then spray painted the whole thing white and silver.

Then I got lazy and never finished it until this Fall when I finally cemented it in a galvanized pot so I could display it en mi casa.  And if the ends justify the means then no one has room to complain.  Right?  Right!  Betcha didn't know I knew Spanish, either!  #pequito

I did get a ton of writing done this month and that's always something I am happy about.  I'm a little amazed that I started AND finished a major edit for each of my three books within a 12 month period.  I shouldn't jinx it because I still have about two chapters to go on the third book, but that is the final steps of editing and not the "sit down and cross stuff out with a red pen" steps.  I hit a small detour because I realized the climax of the book is a piece of poop and it needs to be fixed fairly badly.  In the past I thought "bigger is better" so I ended the first book with a pretty decent climax, the second with an AMAZING one, and then the third with this kinda... sad, lonely look at things that really leaves the viewer a little angry with it.

So the goal was to take what I have and expand it.  Add a little excitement, a few more explosions (you can NEVER have too many (maybe you can (not in my world you can't (until you can,))) and a little more drama to get the reader invested once more.  It's just about there and in a week or less it will certainly be there, and I can't wait.  Because ::drumroll please::: when the edit is finished I can move on to something really exciting, but until I get it done, I can't say ::drumroll stops::.  On this I shall not jinx myself.  Just know something HUMONGOUS is probably/most likely coming in December and you're gonna want to know about it when it does.

Hope THAT got your intrigue!

The Saturday before Thanksgiving this year was the fifth annual Apple Pie Contest @caitcd hosts every year, and it was also my fourth consecutive time judging.  Not that I pride myself on it (I do) but it's always a fun night and one I look forward to every year.  @markstyleme was able to partake in the judging this year and took it verrrrry seriously but even he was cracking up during the judging process.  I can't say it enough; after a couple tastes of pie you start identifying which ones are super good and which ones are super bad.  This year there were a record 19 pies entered, and we don't only take ONE bite when we judge them, we take two.  That's a lot of fucking pie!  Eventually you are cracking up over how some taste and then getting wide-eyes as a group when you bite into the fantastic ones.  @klreynol was there for the third year in a row and she was also the third place winner this year, so it was a great evening for all.

And aside from all of that, it's the one time I get to pull out my "I'm Judging You" pin and have people go "Oh, the PIES, he's judging our PIES!"  To which I nod enthusiastically and with a subtle wink.  Not too subtle though.

Then came the Parker Family Thanksgiving the next day, held a few days early due to scheduling conflicts that you only really encounter as a family once in a while for the important stuff.  At first I was really moody about the whole thing because as a family we have always celebrated Thanksgiving on the day of and NEVER at another time; what I found was that the holiday is fine being celebrated at any other time because what is important is being together with family.  And not necessarily getting drunk on wine the day of, part of it from canned wine (yes, canned wine (with a straw (boom.)))

Not that I got drunk on wine...

Couple days later and we come to the Appleton Christmas Parade, to which I now go every year and wonder about half-way through each year why I came again.  This time in particular it was freezing cold, but I had Miss T and her husband J there and it was both of their first times at the parade, respectively.  As usual the enormous flatbed of hot air balloon baskets pulling their jets was a crowd pleaser and it certainly heated us up.  So did the Bailey's in my coffee thermos but that was a secret very few were in on.

Thanksgiving itself was spent with the Reynold's family and it was the second time this year I was included in their festivities (the first being Easter when my parents were in Indiana.)  It was great getting to spend the holiday with my best friend and her family.  I suppose as we grow older we find that traditions begin to die out from they always were, and then it's time to make new ones.  We would all do to grow a little from changes like this.  And to be honest, having two huge meals in a week and getting to enjoy your life a smidgen more makes everything okay in the end.  I also got to indulge in Pecan Pie twice this year so let me rub my growing belly and smile about that too.

@klreynol and I took a picture to send to our co-workers and I felt it only appropriate to cross my eyes.

Am I getting a butt-chin?  Oh, I am?  Well... does it at least make me look distinguished?

Perfect.

So what else happened in November?  Started singing to nearly every song I know in lieu of more karaoke fun to come, made a whole gaggle of new friends and called to rest a discrepancy with an old one.  Saw Thor 2 (waaay better than the original,) saw Catching Fire (waaay better than the original,) and finally got caught up on all of my TV shows.  Learned I suck at working with pastry dough, can't stop drinking Eggnog until the carton is gone, and apparently a) can't impress people I'm not interested in to begin with and b) can't be impressed by people I thought I may be interested in and then wasn't.  Finished another Harry Potter book, got nostalgic about things I can't change and wouldn't want to, decided to keep growing my hair out, and succesfully completed my NINTH Black Friday in retail!

Huzzah, wench!

Bring on December, baked goodies, and the music!  The sweet, sweet MUSIC!  Ciao!

Updated!!!!!

I was at Miss T's on the 30th for a holiday gathering she was hosting and I was in the midst of conversation in her living room.  At one point I was talking to my friend Kyle and her old-lady cat jumped up ont he tv stand.  Kyle casually says "Careful Jetty, don't light your tail on fire."

Jetty promptly dropped the end of her tail in a burning candle; her tail LITERALLY released a small burst of flames.  Kyle screamed and smacked it, snuffing said fire and igniting my annoying, uncontrollable laughter.  Happy November!

holiday time: solo (this) time

When Halloween hits I'm just friggin' done with fall.  Much like I'm friggin' done when I hit the bottom of an ice-cream sundae and there's nothing left (I can't save me from myself,) Halloween is the culmination of fall for me and it is also the final door opening to Christmas time!

Screw Thanksgiving, I really don't care about it; it's the 25th of December I choose to set my sights on.

This year I actually packed up 95% of my Halloween crap a few days before Halloween even hit because I didn't want to look at it anymore.  I kept a few things out for the holiday but that was about it (plus the pumpkins I carved, ooooobviously.)  Then I started bringing in the boxes of Christmas decorations the day after.  Most of it was from Pottery Barn last year, things I'd picked up because they were super cheap, but there were three large boxes from when I lived with Ken.

Yes, I said it, "Ken."  There's no longer a nickname or "my ex," he has a name and I can be a big boy and use it.  Not like I'm gonna say it and then look over to see him hovering outside my second floor office window with glowing eyes.

::notgonnalooknotgonnalooknotgonnalook::

I didn't think anything of the boxes when I was bringing them inside from the garage.  I figured I'd probably have a twinge of nostalgia going through the stuff but really, we only lived together for two Christmas seasons (dated through three) so it couldn't be anything too bad.  I was really burning rubber in getting through decorating, tearing my closet apart in the process and pitching an absolute ton of crap I didn't want/need/know why I kept.  I must say, in my experience, I find it is only when you are succeeding at something proficiently that you're most often and quite suddenly thrown backward.

I found this picture; I'm posting it because I feel like I have to, in a way.  I'll explain later.

It wasn't lying on top of a pile of stuff, it was instead tucked into an old Christmas card.  I save everything and as a result I tend to save holiday cards for a year so I know who sent one to me before and who I should send to in return.  The cards were another beast all together, the well wishes and warm thoughts to "Sean & Ken" repeatedly lashing my eyes as I read them.

I had to sit down.  Sorta looked around the apartment not knowing what to feel, and then I just... felt it. I let it hit me.

The picture was taken December 25th, 2010, and you can see for yourself on the bottom right corner.  We were at my sister's house for celebrating and it had been a marathon day.  I'd finally given in that year to go all the way up north to Ken's parents house for Christmas Eve and it was a pretty great trip all things considered.  I remember the drive north in particular because I opened at Express super early that day and my hands were sooooo dry and cracked that they were nearly blistering.  I remember putting lotion on my hands and pouting about how bad they burned, and then Ken held my hand all the way up because he thought it'd make me happy.

And it did make me happy... one of those simple gestures you overlook in everyday life but in hindsight meant something so much more.  We'd just gotten through our year of infidelity (our year, because it took two to tango) and felt as if we had come out of it stronger than ever.  We'd fallen back in love against all odds we would and it was just... good.  In a word I will say it was "good."  Not great, because that would be over doing it, but we were good.  We were happy.

After spending the night with his parents, we left early in the morning to drive back to our home in Wrightstown where we opened our gifts for each other.  Then we were off to Greenville for the Parker family celebration, and when gifts were opened and the meal was finished, that picture was taken.  I look at my face and can't help but wish I knew then what I know now.  We were going through the loan process before buying a house and I was weeks away from proposing to him.  All of this stuff... all of these "steps" you think you have to take to prove to a person you're in it for the long haul.  No one could have predicted at that point it would end the way it did, because we'd already gotten through all of that. The cheating and lying and blahblahblah.  2011 was bringing a fresh start and we were both riding the train to Happytown.

It's been nearly three years since we called off the engagement, told the realtor we couldn't buy the house we'd signed the papers for, and parted ways.  It's been nearly two years since I deleted the pictures of us from the hard drive, tossed the letters, cards and notes in the trash, and decided to put my best foot forward in moving on from all of it.  When I moved out on my own this spring I found a few tidbits from our relationship because when I originally packed up from Wrightstown, there were things I was not yet ready to part with.  I wasn't ready to part with him in the "finite" way I should have.  Posting the picture above forces me to not run from it anymore, or not "it" but "him."  It forces me not to run from him as a faceless entity because there is no point to do so.  Not anymore at least.

What's funny to me about all of this is how much I can remember when I simply decide to.  Me and my freak memory, hard at work.  Ken loved Christmas as much as I did, encouraging me to play Christmas music in the car in October when we were running errands for our Halloween party.  Asking if we could watch The Grinch in early November just to get in the mood.  We'd have bought a tree earlier than the weekend after Thanksgiving each year if the lots were open but they never were.

The holidays used to get me down in a certain way but they were better when I was in a relationship.  I'm a nostalgic person and this is a nostalgic season that calls up all of the memories of years before and what they meant to you as an individual.  The last two years I've been living with family during the holidays so it really hasn't hit me in any way other than "Shucks, I don't have anyone to go to sleep with at night."

Living on my own is a little different in that regard.  Suddenly I realize just how alone I actually am.  I'm not going to rush out and bag me a man or anything like that but still, it'd be nice to just fall into something with someone and call it good.  Alas, I'm picky.

Things were really great with Ken and they were that way for a very long time.  It's so easy to look back on something like what we had and only see the ending and the pain it caused, but really, where does that get you?  We all hurt and we all get kicked down... I suppose it's really left up to us if we choose to climb back to our feet.  It took me a while but eventually I did make the choice to do so.

Finding the cards and the picture today absolutely sucked and there is no way around that.  It was the rush in the gut that reminds you of something that once was and it makes you feel sick to your stomach with just how much it is completely and unnequivocally gone.

Gone.

Do I miss him?  Yes.  I can say so without feeling any shame; I can say so without even batting an eye.  You don't ever really stop loving someone, especially when they were your first "great" love.  You don't get more than one of those... and once it's happened, that's it.  It's with you forever.  You can be angry with how it ended and you can curse the heavens and anyone else who will listen, but what's done is done and there's never any going back.  Not in that regard, at least.  Sometimes I'd like to tell him that, other times I roll my eyes and say good riddance, but for the most part I'm filled with a complacent feeling in my heart.

I learned a lot.  Good and bad, but I still learned.  And maybe when someone makes it through the barricade of walls/moats/barbed wire/ice/fire around my heart, it'll be the best relationship I've ever had.  They'll show up, smile, and show me why it never worked with anyone else, most of all Ken.  I suppose having the optimism to look forward to that moment is what saves me from being jilted and bitter.  Until then, I don't see a problem in being nostalgic.

It is the holiday season, after all.  Ciao gang (c: