Follow the yellow brick road

As I reflected on the year in January I did a sort of decade in review.  In that post I said I would elaborate on some of the stories.
I turn 30 9 days from today, and as 30 is really the new decade for me, I am going to try and post something everyday that has shaped me thus far.  This is totally out of order now that I am thinking of things I am going to write about, but for some reason this story is stuck in my head.

***THIS IS AN ADULT STORY WITH ADULT LANGUAGE.  YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED***
(This means it's gonna be really good--but, if you are a relative or afraid you are going to find out too much about me..it's not like that at all so you can keep reading, I'm just saying to be true to the story...I'm going to talk about adult topics and drop the F-bomb)

When I was 20 years old I had perhaps what will go down as one of the best summers of my life.  I lived with 3 of my best friends, and since we lived across the street from our college people were always stopping by.  I was a smoker...and although this is a dirty nasty habit that I do not condone, or do anymore..I like to think I made smoking look good.
I had a pretty good fake ID that I only got stopped at one bar over, and they still let me in.  The pounds that I packed on my Freshman year were coming off and I was feeling good about myself.

Again, I majored in Theatre and finally got cast in a great part in a great show 'Little Shop of Horrors'. I was a doo-wop girl--lots of singing and dancing.  Great costumes and general fabulousness.  Fabulocity as Kimora Lee Simmons would say.  I wish I made up that word.  I finally felt like I was going to be able to show my professors that summer that I was worth a shot in other shows.

None of this however trumped my crush that summer.  It had started with a musical review I was cast in. This guy was the director--he came from the Boston Conservatory, 21 or 22.  Tall, slight build, blond crazy hair, beautiful blue eyes...I think.  Well, I'm pretty sure they were blue.  We're going with blue.
All of us (men and women alike) had a crush on Douglas...or Duglis as he liked to call himself.
He was ridiculously talented, and watching him play the piano was almost a religious experience.
Then he came in to direct Little Shop and it was over.
He had something about him.  A combination of talent, awkwardness, handsomeness, kindness..and a burning question of 'was he or wasn't he gay' about him.  Not totally feminine but, a quality about him that made you wonder.

All summer long I rehearsed, worked waitressing, watched dirty dancing at odd hours with my friend Johanna ( I don't know why, but we watched it every night between 1 and 3AM and recited the whole move out loud..probably because we were drunk).  I became a better actress, singer and performer because of that summer--and because of Douglas.  A big part was my need to impress him, but who cares? I got there!  This may have also helped me shed those lbs!
I felt a lot of times that we had chemistry and that we were flirting but, for one of the first times in my life I didn't get all stupid and just tell him how I felt.  This was hard for me---I put everything out there, usually immediately.  I couldn't handle finding out that he 'just wasn't that into me' while I had to see him everyday, so I kept my mouth shut.
Good GOD that was hard.  I spent the entire summer analyzing with my friends everything he said to me or did.  I went out of my way to pick him up in Boston, spent a ton of time with him in his fabulous apartment on Beacon street and again, smoking way too many cigarettes and drinking WAY too much.  All the things that are appealing when you are 20, but as you approach 30 you say wow.  I was so dumb!
Michael--Douglas's roomate was also in the show with us and they both became a permanent fixture in my life.
It was a glorious summer.
Finally the show went up, and it was a huge success, I was noticed--I actually DID have talent. That was a relief--my college debt would have been all for naught.  Oh..wait.  I'm not doing anything with my Theatre degree..hmmm
Oh.  Right.  It was a glorious summer.
Things were definitely sparking between us but we had never said anything about it, the show was ending and it was setting in that I better speak now.  His birthday was coming and I told him I was going to take him somewhere special.  I knew it was now or never and it was time to tell him how I felt.  What did I have to lose?  I was listening on repeat to a mix tape he gave me and analyzing his song choice. Even I knew it was getting bad.
I took him to 'Castle Rock' in Marblehead one night.  It is a beautiful place--it is a rock that sits right out on the ocean. You climb to the top and the view at night is breath-taking.
We sat for a couple of hours just talking, and my heart was going about 2,000 beats per minute.  I just had to say it.  I don't remember what I said, but I told him that I had feelings for him..and jackpot.  He did too. I couldn't believe it--because I had to talk myself out of the possibility of him liking me back or else I probably would have jumped off the damn rock.
All of a sudden--I swear this is true---a moon that looked like it was out of a movie rose out of the water. It was a beautiful orangey-red color, and it was so enormous it looked fake.   It was like a sign.  Of what?  I don't know.  But, I had possibly never been happier in my life.  I had found love.  Love found me back.
The best summer turned into the most wonderful fall.  We spent the nights skipping through the streets of Boston.  Having dates, and doing some of the most amazing kissing I had ever experienced.  This kissing was so amazing, that it didn't strike me as odd that it was all we ever did physically.  Also..we only did it in public.  In restaurants, on the streets by my car.  Yup, we were that couple people were beeping at.  It was ridiculous, and I didn't care.  I didn't care that his best friend and roomate Michael was really jealous of us hanging out.  He started to hate me...but, you know what?  I was in LOVE.  I didn't care!
I also didn't care that Douglas didn't want to 'label' our relationship.  Who needed labels??? I hit the kissing only jackpot.  I saw the red flags and chose to ignore them.  I smiled so hard those 3 months that I'm surprised my top lip didn't swallow my nose.  Did I mention the kissing..it was a drug.

Perhaps this 'drug' induced haze is why I didn't see it coming.  

To be continued......

Awkward moments, courtesy of facebook; Parts I and II

Part I.

I always end up feeling bad somehow when on facebook.  Usually in the morning at work I pull it up for a quick FB debriefing and then minimize it for the day.  I'm in sales, so often I don't look at it for hours--sometimes I leave the office and leave it open.  I do it at home, I open it-and forget about it.

I always forget to just take myself off-line so people don't chat with me.  My friends' mom always IM's me and half the time I am not even there to answer, and she seems so lost!  I always feel bad that I didn't get to tell her I wasn't ignoring her...I was just..not there!   I'm sure she isn't crying about it, but still--I feel bad!

What's worse though is how to stop IM-ing with someone.  It always seems like a good idea to just send someone that quick message while you know they are right there online (unless, it's me and now you know I'm sometimes not there).  The conversation starts and you say what you need to say.  After that it instantly gets..awkward.  

'So, how was your day?'

'good--yours'

'Good.'

'doing anything this weekend'

'yeah, going skiing with some friends'

'nice'

'yeah'

'OK, well, I'm gonna go watch TV and floss my teeth now'

'Ok!  Bye!'

'See ya, have a good night'

'You too'

'K! night'

'Night!'

' :-) '

' :-)' 

And done.   Seriously??? We aren't on the phone, we don't need all the fillers--even the phone gets out of control, it's like some weird who gets the last work game.

'Ok'

'alright, talk to you later'

'take care'

'you too'

'alright'

'alright' 

'bye'

'bye'

'bye'

Every. Time.   Some times theres even that weird laugh that you do.You know it..when your saying goodbye--it's like..'huh hmm, bye'..or 'hmm hmm, bye'. I can't get the sound right in words..but you know it and use it.  

Part II.

OK, so like I said, sometimes I just keep facebook minimized.  The other day I was working, and I needed my boss to do something on his end so I could finish what I was doing.  I sent him a quick e-mail knowing he was at his desk.  I took this opportunity to catch up on what had happened in the last 3 hours.  I came across a picture of someone who I know from a while back whose pictures let just say always shock me.  I'm not easily shocked.  Now, I'm not judging, but they aren't necessarily things that I would post.  I knew it would get a rise out of a co-worker of mine so I call him over.  Well, he's beside himself.

Let me also say, it wasn't a picture that was really TERRIBLE to have on my screen..but, it wasn't something that like I said...I would have put up there myself, hence calling my co-worker over. 

This picture led me to coming across a picture of someone's (fully clothed ) butt across my entire screen. It was time to log out.  This was not good.

My boss doesn't like to call people in the office on the phone.  He likes to walk over to your desk to tell you things.  He is also very quick, light on his feet and generally stealthy for his age.  Or any age.  

You often don't know he is there until he is right in your ear--he scares me EVERY time.

As I'm trying to log out while the picture is still up...don't you know I see him in the reflection of my screen before I hear him.

Then I get a case of crazy hand that only says 'hi boss, i'm doing something I shouldn't be'..even though I  really wasn't, but this persons picture that I chose to pull up has cause an awkward moment.

Now my computer is moving slow, like it knows and is laughing at me on the inside of it's cold mother board, as I fumble with my mouse and swivel my chair around trying to block the screen with my body at the same time as trying to shut down the FB.  I was too late.  My boss, totally cool.  Either didn't see or graciously acted like he didn't see.  God love him.

Now, I'm in a sweat and my heart is racing.  I peer into my co-workers cube.  He's laughing at me.

'Al, I am SO SORRY, he was too quick I didn't have time to react!  I couldn't stop him!  I thought about tackling him down to the ground to give you more time!'

That would have been great.  I really do love my boss--and not only because I'm afraid he's going to read this.  I think he is great.  But, the slow motion image of him being blindsided by my tall lanky cube mate and taken down to the ground for no reason but to save me from embarrassment...that gives me a good laugh.  I don't open questionable pictures at work anymore.  Thanks Facebook.

I'm trying. I really am.

So, I was going to get off my 30 pity party.  I was going to embrace yet again that 2010 is going to be my year.
A good haircut always makes me feel better.  I was certain this one would make me feel REALLY good because I haven't had it cut since before Christmas, and anyone with short hair knows that this is not a good thing.  I couldn't wait.  She asked if we were 'doing the same thing', I hate that.  It makes me sound predictable.  I was actually ready to try something new, but I didn't have time to find pictures of what I wanted so I said, 'well, yes.  But, in October you cut it and it was shorter than last time you cut it, and now it's even longer...so..shorter but the same'.
She said 'so, shorter?'
me: 'um. yeah'.

The shampoo girl took me in back, and last time this girl shampooed my hair, it was almost a religious experience.  Seriously.  I thought I was going to have an Herbal Essence commercial moment.  So, I was so excited to see the same girl.  This was going to be good.
I have to say, she kinda half assed it.  I mean, at least get a little scrub going ya know?  I love a good scalp massage.  I should have known something was up.

I sat in the chair and my girl came back, ready to start chopping.  Usually she is really chatty, today..not so much.  I can't NOT talk (obviously), so I start making chit chat.  Nothing.  Dead Ends.
Then she throws it on me:  Um, so I have some news.  I'm moving to New York.  In two weeks.  I just gave my notice like, an hour ago.

WHAT???  She then referred me to someone who if he didn't smile and wave at me like a lunatic, I would be afraid to approach him in a back alley.  You know, cause I'm always in back alleys.

Then I did this thing I keep doing.  I gave an awkward hug.  I don't think we really needed to hug...I don't think she wanted a hug...But, there I was giving an awkward hug because it felt like the right thing to do.

Now that I think of it I should have flicked her right in the cheek and told her she ruined my year.  People really underestimate the power of a hard flick.

Happy Valentine's day--change your underpants.

We can file this post under the caption TMI.  Brian might kill me for all this info, but he doesn't read my blog.  That's what he gets!
Since we have been serious and lived together the agreement is that he cooks and I do laundry.  Since the OK to do his laundry it has been a constant battle to weed out the um..underwear that just shouldn't be there.  Like WHY would you keep underwear with holes in it?  Especially when you have new packs of underwear in your drawer ready to wear.
But, he wears it to work--as a chef, or to the gym.  So, he says he doesn't want to ruin his 'good underwear'.  What's the difference???  You don't pull out the 'good' underwear for special occasions!
Didn't his mom ever drill the importance of nice underwear into his head?  You, know incase you get hit by a bus--at least you have on clean underwear and no one can say you have a bad mother/girlfriend.
For work and the gym he enjoys 'tighty whities'..for real.  However, they have been washed so many times they are more 'tighty grey-ies'.

So.  Being the sneak that I am, every week when I do laundry I 'lose' a pair or two of underwear.  So far, it works like a charm.

This year for Valentines day I bought Brian a card that has 'the difference between men's and women's sexy underwear.  The cartoon picture of a woman's was a red thong with lace, silk and bows all pointed out.  The picture of the man's was tighty whities and arrows pointing to 'clean' and 'no holes'.  Jackpot!  It was perfect.

This morning we opened cards.  He bought me the same one.  This is how I know we are meant to be.  That, and I put up with his underwear.

Smooth Operator..no need to ask.

I inadvertently got my facebook page all in a scuffle over Sade today.  Who knew?  Apparently, only mostly ME.
So, 2010 is suppose to be my year--I was believing it, and I still do.  Even Susan Miller on the website 'Astrology Zone' is pretty much telling me this is going to be the best year of my life.  So far I lost my grandfather, I'm still in debt, I need new tires, and I am pretty sure I'm going to owe money on my taxes.  But, all signs point to a STELLAR year.
So, truth be told I'm not totally traumatized about turning 30.  But, I walked into Starbucks today--which is really like going into cheers for me only in multiple locations.  Because I have a distinctive drink, and Starbucks is pretty much amazing-everyone knows my name.  The reason why multiple locations know my name is because I used to get really embarrassed when they started to remember my drink and my name.  I thought it made me pretentious, so I would find a new Starbucks.  Now, for over $4 for my morning coffee I find it a nice luxury not to even tell the staff that I want a Venti, decaf, nonfat, rasberry, mocha, no whip, no foam- no fun.  I just walk in and everyone says 'Hey Alison!' and they grab a cup and get it going.  It's priceless.
This morning- Nicole (yeah. I know their names too) looked at her stack of Sade's newly released CD ready to put out.  'I don't even know who this is'. WHAT???
Yup.  She was too young to remember Sade.  Well, at least that is how I interpreted it, because EVERYTHING has become about my age in my head suddenly.  So, I told her she was great she should listen to it, took my coffee, got in my car and promptly posted on Facebook how I was old because I remember Sade, and young Nicole at Starbucks did not.  WELL.  At first there was sympathy, and then there it was.  'I don't even know if I know who THEY are?  I might have heard THEIR music on the radio before and not known it was THEM'.  That is what one of my friends posted. GOOD GOD.  Even my best gay didn't know right off the bat!  I feel like if any man would know it would be the gays???  No.  I'm wrong.  Every man trying to bed a woman in the 80's or 90's...and even now knows poppin' some Sade in is going to seal the deal.  I could seal the deal with my cat if it put Sade on, but I don't have a cat so don't worry.
Anyways, Sade was totally up there with Madonna with me at 4 years old.  Also, Hall and Oats were there too..Their hit 'Man-Eater' somehow translated in my brain at 4 as 'Dance Meter'.  I imagined it was some sort of parking meter like device that was on the dance floor at clubs and everyone put a nickle in so they could stay on the dance floor.
Maybe I should embrace 30.  My youth is looking a little embarrassing.

Wait a minute...I thought I turned 23 last year.

A dear friend of mine pointed out to me today the fact that I will turn 30 one month from tomorrow.  'Bud! Can you believe you are going to be 30 one month from tomorrow??!'.  Nope.  Kris, I can't.
I have a love hate with 30. I mostly love it because my aunt told me recently that a psychic told her that everyone in heaven is about 30 years old.  Well, that sounds promising!  If heaven is a place where everything is perfect, wonderful, and full of pretty much total amazingness then 30 must be where it's at!
I should focus on that.

However, I have this nagging list in my head of things I should have done before I turned 30. It's nothing I ever wrote down, but it's things I thought I would have done.  For example:

1.  I thought I would have at least 1 child by now.  I actually told Brian a couple of years ago I wanted to be married and at least pregnant with our first child when I turned 30.  Well, we are engaged. That is great-believe me.. but, I am just saying.  Brian remembers the story as 'either engaged or pregnant by 30'.  We often have different versions of the same story.

2. I thought I would be married.  See above.

3.  I thought I would own a house

4.  I thought I would have a clue what I was doing with my life!

5.  I thought I would feel like an adult...I still pretty much feel like I am 21 minus the fake ID, all the drinking and bad decisions

6.  I thought I wouldn't need a part time job in addition to a full time job

7.  I thought I would be able to sleep alone in my bedroom without my light on...I actually sleep on the couch when Brian is away.  I feel like I can spring into action quicker if an intruder breaks in!

8.  Umm...I thought I would have started my 401K.

OK.  I'm getting concerned. I need to stop there.  More to come.  But, hey--in September I ran my first 5k!  Go me.  Excuse me, I need to go make some adult decisions or something.

Ways to feel young again

So, if you are keeping up on my blog..you ARE keeping up aren't you?  Right.  Anyways, if you are then you know my dear friend 'Madonna Mole' had to move out of her place on my left shoulder on Friday.  Little did I know that her annoying housemate 'Betty Blemish' was going to go too.
The plan was to see my doc before the plastic surgeon took off my Madonna.  (I'm going to call it my Madonna from now on because all the 'mole' talk was grossing ME out..that is hard to do).
My doc wanted to take another look at a couple of other things he could steal off my skin, one being a very small blemish under my right cheek (on my face, to be clear).  I had found it this summer and thought it was just a pimple.  However, much to my dismay do matter what I did to Betty (the blemish), she was staying put.  I pointed her out to my doc and he said he would revisit it when I came in to have Madonna evicted.  At that point he was going to try and do some fancy squeezing or something to get her packing.
Yeah.  My day didn't end up like that.  Upon further investigation my doc said, while your in having Madonna kicked out-I'd prefer you kick out Betty too.  Betty doesn't need to get the total boot though, we can just put her on notice with a little scraping.   We want to see what kind of tenant we are dealing with.  Is Betty just annoying...or is she dangerous?  I'm all about getting the danger out of there (have I mentioned my anxiety?) So, I didn't think too much about it and I agreed.
About an hour later, lots of Novocaine, stitches and an unfortunate incident on my face with an instrument that shoots a cold day in HELL on your face to stop bleeding, I was done.  By the way that HELL was shot on my face after the numbness had already worn off.  Yeah.  She had to stop, she thought I was still numb.  Did I mention I wasn't?
I stood up and looked in the mirror.  Not only did I have a massive bandage on my shoulder (to be expected) but, a HUGE one on my face. This was to stay for 24 hours before I could switch for one week to a small round band-aid.  This would have all been fine if I:
A.  Didn't have to go directly to a client meeting
B.  Didn't have to waitress that night.

I was more worried about the waitressing.  My lovely boss-who may be reading this and will kill me for saying she is SUCH A LIAR!  I walked into the restaurant to looks of shock, and co-workers trying to hide their laughter.  Now, I can laugh at myself with the best of them--but when someone tells me I am 'brave' because I came into work and that they would have called out. I knew I had a lapse in judgement.  Now I was SURE I was going to be sent home.  I went down to my bosses office, and she politely LIED and said it wasn't that bad.  I asked her if she would want me bringing her food all night, and she said yes, she would.  Come to think of it, I think she was just imagining a life where I was her servant...hmm..
Anyways, I already had a table.  A table of young girls in their early 20's.  (This is the part where you get to feel young again, I know I am only a month away from 30, but I'm feelin' my age!)
The look on their face said it all. All as in 'OMG, LMFAO, what is wrong with that girls FACE? Is this a joke?  She is going to bring me my food and drink?  FML!  WTF?  LOL!'.  They didn't need to say it.  I agreed.  Sigh.  But, the night went on.  I wasn't sure if I should ignore it or make a joke.  I tried making a joke with one table who said 'OH! I didn't even notice until you pointed it out!'.
Um...lies.  Bold faced lies.  White gauze pads and tape across your whole face don't blend in!  Nice try though lady.  Nice try.
The rest of the night though..I held the jokes.

Goodbye Old Friend, Use Sunscreen.

Tomorrow is the end of an era.  Since before I could remember I have had a mole on the front of my left shoulder.  I love this mole.  I know, that is weird to say but I do.
I remember when I was about 4 years old and I was obsessed with Madonna.  That same year my mother asked me what I wanted to wear for an Easter dress. I replied 'a black lace dress with black finger-less lace gloves'.  You know, just what all 4 year olds wear Easter Sunday.  I'm sure the pastor would have understood.
Also, around that time I convinced myself somehow that Madonna also had the same mole as me.  This made me more like Madonna.  I realized a few years later that I was 'convincing' myself because if you look at her, she does not have the same mole.  I'm pretty sure she has 0 moles on her left shoulder.
But, because that was always in my head it became sort of my sexy mole.  You, know like Cindy Crawford..only, like Madonna.  My point is, I find it distinguishing-even if no one else notices it.

Every six months I am lucky enough to see my dermatologist because I am 'high risk'.  Something about being mostly Irish and Swedish doesn't make for safe sun bathing.  Every six months he has gazed at my mole and let it stay.  Last month, I guess my mole's time was up.  I was informed it had to go-sooner than  later.  Of course, it has to be when I am going to be wearing a strapless dress at my wedding.  Nah, we didn't have to take it 3 years ago, 2 years ago...1 year ago..and certainly not IN a year.  Nope--I get to have a nice fresh scar jut in time for the big day. Perfect.

However, the really sad part is the parting of the mole.  I'm pretty sure I'm not going to recognize myself.  I don't KNOW me without my mole!
So..use sunscreen, and bring on the Mederma and Vitamin E.