Archive | September, 2010

My wedding dress might be knocked up

29 Sep

I don’t want to imply too much here but my wedding dress is LATE and FAT.  What’s the first thing you think of when you hear those two adjectives together?  Exactly.

The wedding would have been five weeks from this weekend – we would have been boarding the flight to Mexico on November 1st – and my wedding dress literally just arrived at the bridal studio.  I have to assume I would have been in a full-blown panic by this point, right?  And that’s before I would have been informed that the studio ordered my dress three sizes too big.

All this and we (okay, my parents) still can’t get out of the damn contract – so we’re officially the “proud” owners of a very expensive dress that I will never wear!

Apparently even my wedding dress knew that this wedding wasn’t meant to be.


I haven’t said “thank you” yet, have I?

28 Sep

I was minding my own business just now, posting pics from this past Sunday on Facebook and talking to a friend on gchat about his recent trip to Miami to see the Jets play (yes, it really is all about football for me right now and double yes, I hate the Jets.)

Then it happened…my wedding song came on.

It’s funny the details I had picked out.  I had a wedding song but not the right man to marry.  I don’t know why I didn’t turn it off.  It’s not like I’m a glutton for punishment.  I actually try to avoid this type of thing at all cost.  The girls have seen my reaction to the song that I had planned to walk down the aisle to in Mexico – it is an emotional and panicked “turn it off, now, quick, please!”

It’s not important what my wedding song would have been and for now, it’s one of those details I want to keep to myself.  I LOVE this song and want it to mean something (different) to me again someday.  Instead of having a meltdown – okay, I had a total meltdown – but do you know what I did?  I opened my laptop and started banging away.  I don’t know that I’ve ever said this but THANK YOU to everyone who has chosen to stay on this metaphoric roller coaster with me.  Through the tears, this blog has become my emotional outlet; something I turn to when I don’t think I can handle what I am feeling; a true inspiration to even myself  – I secretly go back and read old posts sometimes and every now and then I let myself think, “I am so proud of you sometimes.”  I’m sure I’m making mistakes (daily!) in this process, but I also know I am doing some things right.  And when your world gets turned upside down like this, even those small victories count.

A show about serial killers should probably never make me this emotional

27 Sep

About five and a half years ago there would be hour long stretches between my friends and I in which I had absolutely nothing to contribute to the conversation.  Back in those days there was one thing that separated me from them, and although I’m embarrassed to admit this now, I simply did not watch television.  At all.  And it’s not because I didn’t have cable.  Quite the contrary, I had more channels than most people would know what to do with (don’t think I’m not onto you, Columbia University: I am fully aware that the full cable package was reflected in the cost of my graduate housing somewhere despite the fact that everyone knows a graduate student at Columbia is never going to have time to watch TV.)  But back to those conversations, I would just sit there and think “How on earth do they watch this much TV?”

Then I graduated.

It started hot and heavy, primarily because after four semesters of graduate school, the idea of picking up a book made me want to vomit.  I only had basic cable at that point but I consumed more television each week than I had watched in the last year of my life.  I was nowhere near the average weekly television consumption of my friends but I could at least contribute when conversation turned cable now.

Then I moved in with my now ex-fiancé.

As my friends’ joke / true statement goes, his television watching habit rubbing off on me is the one and only thing he actually did right for me.  Over 1000 channels.  DVR.  No commercials.  HBO and Showtime original series.  Strategic arrangement of recordings each night.  Netflix to get caught up on seasons and seasons of shows he watched.  I was hooked.

I should probably mention that I actually have a life.  I just watch a lot of TV in my free time…

Last week started the fall premieres for most major networks.  This is silly but it’s actually been a bit tough watching hours and hours of television by myself.  I think I stopped breathing for a few seconds when I realized no one was humming the How I Met Your Mother or The Office theme song last week.  No one rolled their eyes when I tried to figure out how to incorporate Project Runway, Gossip Girl and 90210 into my lineup of recordings.  No one “buttered” me up by reminding me that their best friend always says I look like Olivia Benson during Law & Order SVU.  There was no one to convince to stay up after football last night to watch Dexter, one of “our” absolute favorites.  And there’s something to be said for just about every single one of the 35 shows in my TiVo’s Season Pass manager this fall.

I’ve added fall television premieres to the list of things I never thought would make me reflect on the life I once shared with my fiancé.  I don’t need him there to hum the theme song to HIMYM anymore though.  I am more than capable of doing it myself.

So we’re still going on vacation, right?

24 Sep

Okay buddy, you can take my would-be wedding day from me but don’t even think about messing with my vacation.  And definitely don’t mess with my friends’ vacation!  As one of my closest girlfriends said to me in the days following my fiancé’s departure, “Karmas a bitch and so are your friends!”  Considered yourself warned.

Without thinking twice about whether or not we should still jump on a flight to somewhere warm, my crew is officially booked for our 5 night stay in the Dominican.  This group clearly requires an all-inclusive drink plan.  It’s a complete 180 from what I thought we would be celebrating – my wedding vs. thank-god-you’re-not-marrying-the-wrong-man – but I’ll just take my drinks extra strong that weekend.  Equally important, and also on the celebration agenda, are a close friend’s 30th birthday and the fact that it’s not always going to be possible to have all of us together at the same time for this type of getaway.

I know this vacation will be incredible however I try not to think about waking up on the Saturday morning that would have been my wedding day.  My roomie for the weekend might have to force me to put my feet on the ground but I will more than get through the day.  So see you in Punta Cana.  I’ll be the one at the bar.  Not wearing white.  Obviously.

I finally turned off the TV last night

23 Sep

Quite honestly, I was kind of lonely last night.  Not the pick-up-the-phone-and-call-a-friend kind of lonely but one of those rare occasions where I felt almost sad by myself; it’s the type of lonely that can’t be anyone’s responsibility other than my own anymore.

This is pretty much my own fault.  I’m 29-years-old and don’t know how to be by myself.  I spent my early- and mid- 20s in graduate school, too consumed with classes to have free time or to mind being alone.  This was followed by a 5-year relationship that I mistakenly believed was “it” for me.  So technically, I’ve never been on my own as an adult.  It is odd the things you take for granted, especially when it’s pretty much all you’ve known; it is so strange not having someone to share my day with over a glass of wine, someone to eat dinner with, someone to watch TV with, someone on the other side of the bed.  Even just not having someone else in the room with me at any given time is bizarre.  Here’s something that’s hard to swallow too – I’m not used to all of this and I wasn’t even with the right person when I became so accustomed to it all.

There are some things that you have to be able to do on your own and that’s what this is – an overwhelming learning curve.  I’m going to follow the advice someone gave me last week: the objective  should be to get to a point where you don’t need someone else in your life to be happy; instead you’ll want that person in your life to share the happiness you’ve created for yourself.

It was a small step last night but I finally turned off the TV and fell asleep on my own – no noise, no distractions, no one on the other side of the bed; just me by myself in my quiet room.

If only we could choose who we love

20 Sep

Trust me, this post is not going anywhere near where you assumed the title was taking you.  I have bigger problems this week.  Most notably, the Buffalo Bills.

Putting aside the fact that we’ve been a low-expectation team in the NFL for years now – we haven’t made the playoffs since I was in high school – I always go into each season thinking we have a chance.  My optimism usually lasts a few weeks.  This year it lasted one.  Okay, maybe one week and half a quarter.

The past two Sundays started out as most Sundays do during football season – absolutely great until kick-off.  Opening day this season started with a city-style tailgate on 42nd and 2nd (ie. a group of us camped out on the sidewalk in Bills gear at 7:30 am with coffee and bagels).  There was the usual buzz of opening day – catching up with football friends that we haven’t seen in months, counting down to 12 pm when the first few pitchers of beer would go around, the excitement of thinking “just maybe”…

It is one thing to logically understand that your team is going to have a rough season; it is completely another thing to actually see how terrible they are.  In week 1 this happened on the huge screen at McFadden’s, while surrounded by 250 other city-based, disappointed Bills fans.  By week 2, the Bills looked like a really bad high school football team.  The defeat was live and in person at Lambeau Stadium in Green Bay, the destination for our annual away game this year.  There is something particularly painful about being surrounded by 70,000 fans of the opposing team when your team only manages to come up with a pathetically embarrassing 62 total passing yards.

Thank god for the following in Green Bay because clearly the game wasn’t the highlight of the trip: “the gang” all together; pickle back shots; tailgating in a church parking lot; actually seeing Lambeau; the (Bills) shout song at Stadium View bar; tasting a new kind of moonshine; more fried Wisconsin cheddar than I care to comment on; the Canadian fire pit at the tailgate; bowling ball shots with Pinto Kenny; “716” and “Pack This” wifebeaters; the best hotel bar ever; outlasting the boys three nights in a row; hanging out with some of the nicest people I’ve ever met (it must be a Midwestern thing); drunken photo shoot in the back of the hotel shuttle; our new best friend Joanie; AND OF COURSE THURMIE!

For the last several away games that we’ve traveled to, fans for the opposing team have told us how “cute” we are – yup, that’s how serious they take us.  In Tennessee last year, Titans fans asked my friend and I if they could take their picture with us…we were of bigger interest than the actual football game apparently.

And then THE question is always asked: “Are you girls from Buffalo?”

Our response is always the same “Of course; do you think anyone would CHOOSE THIS LIFE?”

This is usually followed by some totally obnoxious and unoriginal joke about how we lost four Super Bowls in a row but that’s par for the disappointing course when you’re a Bills fan.  I couldn’t cheer for a different team if I wanted to.  I’m technically so bitter that I hate all other teams at this point.  My pie in the sky this season has become an inadequate 3-13 record but I’m beginning to think that the Bills aren’t capable of even that.

Whatever you do, don’t tell someone from Buffalo that there’s always next year…we’ve been saying that for 10 years.

I wanna be Kate

15 Sep

There are days when she’s the last person I want to be but I am slowly figuring out how to be her again.    There is a fine balance between having the opportunity to redefine who you are as a person and the panic that comes with having to figure out exactly what that means.  It seems I should be the same person, just minus a fiancé…but it just doesn’t work that way.  Some days the prospect of it all seems beyond exciting.  Other days it shakes me to my core.  One day it won’t feel anything; it’ll just be.

In the meantime, just try to “see the daisies in her footsteps” if you can…

She smiles and it’s a rainbow

And she speaks

And she breaths

I wanna be Kate