I know most guys, especially BT can't understand this, but sometimes I just need to be mad, or whatever emotion it is that I'm experiencing, for awhile. You can't always make it "better." And sometimes you shouldn't. Just let it ride. And I'll come back around.
I just want to be mad for awhile- Terri Clark
Last night we went to bed not talkin',
'Cause we'd already said too much.
I faced the wall, you faced the window.
Bound and determined not to touch.
We've been married seven years now.
Sometimes it feels like 21.
I'm still mad at you this mornin'.
Coffee's ready if you want some.
I've been up since five, thinkin' bout me and you.
And I've got to tell you the conclusion I've come to.
I'll never leave, I'll never stray.
My love for you will never change.
But I ain't ready to make up.
We'll get around to that.
I think I'm right, I think you're wrong.
I'll prob'ly give in before long.
Please don't make me smile.
I just wanna be mad for a while.
Well, now you might as well forget it.
Don't run your fingers through my hair.
Yeah, that's right, I'm bein' stubborn.
No, I don't wanna go back upstairs.
I'm gonna leave for work without a goodbye kiss.
But as I'm drivin' off, just remember this.
I'll never leave, I'll never stray.
My love for you will never change.
But I ain't ready to make up.
We'll get around to that.
I think I'm right, I think you're wrong.
I'll prob'ly give in before long.
Please don't make me smile.
I just wanna be mad for a while.
I'll never leave, I'll never stray.
My love for you will never change.
But I ain't ready to make up.
We'll get around to that.
I think I'm right, I think you're wrong.
I'll prob'ly give in before long.
Please don't make me smile.
I just wanna be mad for a while.
I just wanna be mad for a while.
I just wanna be mad for a while.
I just wanna be mad for a while.
Video http://youtube.com/watch?v=tbSoc0IFydU
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
How I Got Married, Part 2
Part 2: 19 Hours From Here to Las Vegas
I blame Jason Aldean. Yep, I'm going to lay the blame squarely at the feet of a country singer and his song named after another, slightly more famous country singer. On our way back home from St Louis, just as we were making this sharp entrance onto one highway from another, we heard the song "Johnny Cash"--- "Quit my job flipped off the boss took my name of the payroll.(I outta here man) Picked up my cell rang my baby's bell said I'm three miles from home. I said sugar why don't you put on that sundress I like so much, Wait out by the road I'm comin' to pick you up. (whoa) Throw your suitcase in the back, (whoa) Done gassed up the pontiac, (whoa) Blastin' out to Johnny Cash, headin' for the highway, Baby we ain't ever comin' back.It's four hundred and sixty seven miles to the outskirts of Las Vegas. What do you say we go get married by a preacher man that looks like Elvis. (yeah momma) Sugar don't you worry bout tellin' your momma goodbye, We'll send her a souvenier postcard from the wild side. (whoa) Throw your suitcase in the back, (whoa) Done gassed up the pontiac, (whoa) Blastin' out to Johnny Cash, headin' for the highway, Baby we ain't ever comin' back." When he sang the part about going to Vegas to get married, BT and I just looked at each other, smiled, and laughed. We laughed then, but I think it planted the seeds for what we would do later that night.
Once we were back at my house, I was supposed to just be taking him back to the house where he stayed in Local College Town. But I wasn't feeling entirely well and he wanted to copy a DVD or two before he left. Plus, I just didn't want to not be with him. So, we hung out around my house, cuddling and talking for hours. Finally, one of us, I don't think either of us can remember which, brought up flying to Vegas. I think he joked that he had the time and I joked that I had the money so we checked online plane ticket prices. But it was just a joke. Wasn't it?
Of course, none of the flights left until 6am the next morning. So, on a lark, we checked Mapquest to see how long it would take to get to there by car. And it said that it was only 19 hours from my house to Vegas. Only 19 hours. It didn't really seem that long. And suddenly, we were both even more giddy, smiling, and actually thinking about driving to Las Vegas that night to get married.
Wait, wait, wait---What are we doing? What am I doing? BT was standing there, grinning from ear to ear, and very clearly ready to go as soon as I said the word. This was all happening too fast. I had to take a step back. I had to get a second opinion. As Mon Parrain was still unreachable, out of country on a business trip, I settled for the next best thing, the very logical, never-rush-into-anything Sir.
I talked to Sir for about an hour. I told him all about what had happened over the weekend in St Louis, about the engagement. He had always said that he would never let me do something incredibly stupid that I couldn't come back from. I expected it would be the same in this instance. And, of course, he came at me with every logical, smart reason why I shouldn't run off to Vegas. Then, just as I was about to let him go for the night, knowing that the smart, wise, reasonable decision would be to wait, to not go to Vegas, I stole something that I'd heard BT say earlier, "It's just that he is the first person I've been with where I don't feel like I have to be someone else." Sir sighed into the phone, "Well, YOU would run off to get Vegas and get married."
Even though that pretty much made up my mind, I still had to spend another hour or so laying in BT's arms, gathering the courage, before I agreed to leave. He was still all smiles but no pressure, probably because he knew I would agree eventually. At one point, I remember telling him that I was just wondering what would happen if I called his bluff. His answer? "But I'm not bluffing." Finally, I looked BT in the eye and said, "Ok, let's go." While I was taking one last bathroom break before hitting the road, BT took it upon himself to empty my suitcase from the weekend, so I could pack new, clean clothes for the trip. I packed the bag as hurriedly as he had unpacked it for me. He said we didn't need to stop off at his place for more clothes for him. And with that, we were off.
Well, almost. Before we even made it to the highway, we were stopped by a cop. As I waited for the officer to come to my door, all I could think was, "This is it. Somehow my mom knows what we are planning on doing and she called the cops to stop us. Sir probably called her. If not, this is at least one really bad omen." The officer explained that he had stopped me because the light above my license plate was out. As he took my license and insurance information from me, he asked the typical cop question, "Where are you guys going tonight?" I figured it wouldn't hurt to tell him the truth. "We're going to Vegas to get married," I sighed. "Really?" "Yep." "That's awesome. That's so awesome. Well, I'm just going to run your license and then you guys can be on your way. That's just so awesome."
As the cop went back to his cruiser to run my driver's license, I stared at BT in disbelief. Instead of the thorough lashing I thought I would get from the cop, not to mention the speeding ticket I had been sure I was in for, he had been truly psyched about the whole thing. We both had to laugh. It was a good omen after all. Without a ticket or even an official warning, though with quite a few more "awesomes", the cop returned my license and sent us on our way.
And that's all for tonight children. I'll pick up where I left off once I've slept off this awful weekend.
I blame Jason Aldean. Yep, I'm going to lay the blame squarely at the feet of a country singer and his song named after another, slightly more famous country singer. On our way back home from St Louis, just as we were making this sharp entrance onto one highway from another, we heard the song "Johnny Cash"--- "Quit my job flipped off the boss took my name of the payroll.(I outta here man) Picked up my cell rang my baby's bell said I'm three miles from home. I said sugar why don't you put on that sundress I like so much, Wait out by the road I'm comin' to pick you up. (whoa) Throw your suitcase in the back, (whoa) Done gassed up the pontiac, (whoa) Blastin' out to Johnny Cash, headin' for the highway, Baby we ain't ever comin' back.It's four hundred and sixty seven miles to the outskirts of Las Vegas. What do you say we go get married by a preacher man that looks like Elvis. (yeah momma) Sugar don't you worry bout tellin' your momma goodbye, We'll send her a souvenier postcard from the wild side. (whoa) Throw your suitcase in the back, (whoa) Done gassed up the pontiac, (whoa) Blastin' out to Johnny Cash, headin' for the highway, Baby we ain't ever comin' back." When he sang the part about going to Vegas to get married, BT and I just looked at each other, smiled, and laughed. We laughed then, but I think it planted the seeds for what we would do later that night.
Once we were back at my house, I was supposed to just be taking him back to the house where he stayed in Local College Town. But I wasn't feeling entirely well and he wanted to copy a DVD or two before he left. Plus, I just didn't want to not be with him. So, we hung out around my house, cuddling and talking for hours. Finally, one of us, I don't think either of us can remember which, brought up flying to Vegas. I think he joked that he had the time and I joked that I had the money so we checked online plane ticket prices. But it was just a joke. Wasn't it?
Of course, none of the flights left until 6am the next morning. So, on a lark, we checked Mapquest to see how long it would take to get to there by car. And it said that it was only 19 hours from my house to Vegas. Only 19 hours. It didn't really seem that long. And suddenly, we were both even more giddy, smiling, and actually thinking about driving to Las Vegas that night to get married.
Wait, wait, wait---What are we doing? What am I doing? BT was standing there, grinning from ear to ear, and very clearly ready to go as soon as I said the word. This was all happening too fast. I had to take a step back. I had to get a second opinion. As Mon Parrain was still unreachable, out of country on a business trip, I settled for the next best thing, the very logical, never-rush-into-anything Sir.
I talked to Sir for about an hour. I told him all about what had happened over the weekend in St Louis, about the engagement. He had always said that he would never let me do something incredibly stupid that I couldn't come back from. I expected it would be the same in this instance. And, of course, he came at me with every logical, smart reason why I shouldn't run off to Vegas. Then, just as I was about to let him go for the night, knowing that the smart, wise, reasonable decision would be to wait, to not go to Vegas, I stole something that I'd heard BT say earlier, "It's just that he is the first person I've been with where I don't feel like I have to be someone else." Sir sighed into the phone, "Well, YOU would run off to get Vegas and get married."
Even though that pretty much made up my mind, I still had to spend another hour or so laying in BT's arms, gathering the courage, before I agreed to leave. He was still all smiles but no pressure, probably because he knew I would agree eventually. At one point, I remember telling him that I was just wondering what would happen if I called his bluff. His answer? "But I'm not bluffing." Finally, I looked BT in the eye and said, "Ok, let's go." While I was taking one last bathroom break before hitting the road, BT took it upon himself to empty my suitcase from the weekend, so I could pack new, clean clothes for the trip. I packed the bag as hurriedly as he had unpacked it for me. He said we didn't need to stop off at his place for more clothes for him. And with that, we were off.
Well, almost. Before we even made it to the highway, we were stopped by a cop. As I waited for the officer to come to my door, all I could think was, "This is it. Somehow my mom knows what we are planning on doing and she called the cops to stop us. Sir probably called her. If not, this is at least one really bad omen." The officer explained that he had stopped me because the light above my license plate was out. As he took my license and insurance information from me, he asked the typical cop question, "Where are you guys going tonight?" I figured it wouldn't hurt to tell him the truth. "We're going to Vegas to get married," I sighed. "Really?" "Yep." "That's awesome. That's so awesome. Well, I'm just going to run your license and then you guys can be on your way. That's just so awesome."
As the cop went back to his cruiser to run my driver's license, I stared at BT in disbelief. Instead of the thorough lashing I thought I would get from the cop, not to mention the speeding ticket I had been sure I was in for, he had been truly psyched about the whole thing. We both had to laugh. It was a good omen after all. Without a ticket or even an official warning, though with quite a few more "awesomes", the cop returned my license and sent us on our way.
And that's all for tonight children. I'll pick up where I left off once I've slept off this awful weekend.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
A Different Sunday Morning
This weekend was spent at my grandparents' house. The last time I was there, I was blissfully happy and standing next to the man who would be my husband, the man who is now hundreds of miles away. And we had spent the night before at a hotel, not at my grandparents' house. This weekend was really the first weekend in a while that my family was back to its normal routine and I was alone, as per usual, though, with my grandfather the way he is now, things are far from normal. I don't think they'll ever be "normal" again. Or maybe this is just the new normal. As I was getting my shower, all I could think of was this song. I miss my husband. I miss my grandpa. I miss things being like they should be.
sunday morning- ani difranco
sunday morning
slow beats seething
through the screens in the open windows
eggs frying
legs shaking
after we stayed lying so long in bed
sunday morning
both of us reading
and looking up occasionally
looking up occasionally
sunday morning
you're doing your thing
and i am doing mine
speaking words more a formality
cuz we can feel we are of one mind
sunday morning
sheets still warm
kitties swarming around our feet
life comes easy
your sweet company
making it so complete
of all the monday through fridays
we joined the crusade
of all the saturday nights in which we were made
of all the exorcisms i've done with your ghosts
still it's sunday morning i miss you the most
sunday morning- ani difranco
sunday morning
slow beats seething
through the screens in the open windows
eggs frying
legs shaking
after we stayed lying so long in bed
sunday morning
both of us reading
and looking up occasionally
looking up occasionally
sunday morning
you're doing your thing
and i am doing mine
speaking words more a formality
cuz we can feel we are of one mind
sunday morning
sheets still warm
kitties swarming around our feet
life comes easy
your sweet company
making it so complete
of all the monday through fridays
we joined the crusade
of all the saturday nights in which we were made
of all the exorcisms i've done with your ghosts
still it's sunday morning i miss you the most
Saturday, October 20, 2007
How I Got Married, Part 1
Part 1: St. Louis and Tattoos
As most people know by now, I got married Tuesday, October 9th, in Las Vegas, Nevada. It was a very sudden decision, though I think, obviously, that it was the right one. Ever since I left to get married, I have wanted to write the blog entries that would explain what had happened in my life to get me to a place where I would run off to Vegas with a man (yes, a MAN) that I’d only known for two months to get married. Some explanation other than just being crazy.
If I said it started with the trip to St Louis, I’d probably be lying. During the first weekend I spent with Boy Toy, I SAW us getting married before he deployed for Iraq. Intuition isn’t quite the right word, but it is the first one that comes to mind. I can even picture in my mind’s eye where we were when I knew it. But from that moment on, I tried to do everything I could to not give in to that idea. I tried not to act at all girlfriend-y, tried not to call very much, and I saw plenty of other people, all of which he knew about. But he still wanted to make it more serious than we had planned, by asking me to start dating seriously before he deployed, which wasn’t part of his plan, or mine.
Then, I really overstepped. The Sunday before the trip, I had a serious depressive episode. Boy Toy was back in College Town, packing up all his stuff so that he’d be ready to leave for training. I called him to “say good-bye”, but I also told him that I loved him. I put on it the caveat that I didn’t expect him to feel the same, much less say anything back. And he didn’t say it back, just that he did care for me and that he didn’t want this to be the end of anything. I found out later that he had his own intuition. He felt that I would be fine in the end and that the only thing he could really do to help me was to put a protection spell on me and continue with his packing.
Basically, this brings us up to speed for the trip to St Louis. While BT and I were putting bags in the car, he told me that he knew he would say what I had said (“I love you”) soon, but that he just didn’t want to say it without fully meaning it, etc, etc. I sorta laughed it off, telling him that he really shouldn’t worry about saying anything at anytime. But we were barely out of the metro area before he whispered “I love you” in my ear as we cuddled in the backseat while my poor mother drove.
That was the start of the back and forth that continued all weekend. One of us would put something out there that we had been afraid of telling the other, only to find that, not only did the other person share that feeling, but that the other person wanted to take it a step farther. One example involves the tattoos that we ended up getting. Friday night in the car, BT said that he wanted to get me something with the emblem of a crow on it, as a symbol of protection, a symbol of constant return even beyond death. That we would return to each other no matter what. I thought it was really sweet. As we went to sleep that night, I asked him where would be the best place to get a tattoo of protection, thinking specifically of getting a crow. His answer was the back because you can’t watch it yourself. Saturday morning when I told him about my desire to get it as a tattoo on my back, he jumped at the idea to find designs from the internet when we got to my grandma’s later that day. When he brought me the pictures he’d printed from online, he even went a step farther, asking what I would think of putting a heartogram in the center of the crow design, especially as he was thinking of getting a heartogram as well. I could see he was testing something with it. So I raised him, asking him what he thought about me getting the head colored in green, for his eyes. We both got our tats together that night.
It was the same with most things over the weekend, which is how we went from planning on seriously dating when he got back to moving in together to getting married in December when he was home on Christmas Exodus before he deploys. He even did the whole proposal thing on his knees in front of my family on Sunday morning before we left St. Louis. And, despite the fact that my mom barely talked to us the whole trip back, we were all smiles and lovey-dovey-ness.
Thus closes out the first part of our story.
My Tat
His Tat
As most people know by now, I got married Tuesday, October 9th, in Las Vegas, Nevada. It was a very sudden decision, though I think, obviously, that it was the right one. Ever since I left to get married, I have wanted to write the blog entries that would explain what had happened in my life to get me to a place where I would run off to Vegas with a man (yes, a MAN) that I’d only known for two months to get married. Some explanation other than just being crazy.
If I said it started with the trip to St Louis, I’d probably be lying. During the first weekend I spent with Boy Toy, I SAW us getting married before he deployed for Iraq. Intuition isn’t quite the right word, but it is the first one that comes to mind. I can even picture in my mind’s eye where we were when I knew it. But from that moment on, I tried to do everything I could to not give in to that idea. I tried not to act at all girlfriend-y, tried not to call very much, and I saw plenty of other people, all of which he knew about. But he still wanted to make it more serious than we had planned, by asking me to start dating seriously before he deployed, which wasn’t part of his plan, or mine.
Then, I really overstepped. The Sunday before the trip, I had a serious depressive episode. Boy Toy was back in College Town, packing up all his stuff so that he’d be ready to leave for training. I called him to “say good-bye”, but I also told him that I loved him. I put on it the caveat that I didn’t expect him to feel the same, much less say anything back. And he didn’t say it back, just that he did care for me and that he didn’t want this to be the end of anything. I found out later that he had his own intuition. He felt that I would be fine in the end and that the only thing he could really do to help me was to put a protection spell on me and continue with his packing.
Basically, this brings us up to speed for the trip to St Louis. While BT and I were putting bags in the car, he told me that he knew he would say what I had said (“I love you”) soon, but that he just didn’t want to say it without fully meaning it, etc, etc. I sorta laughed it off, telling him that he really shouldn’t worry about saying anything at anytime. But we were barely out of the metro area before he whispered “I love you” in my ear as we cuddled in the backseat while my poor mother drove.
That was the start of the back and forth that continued all weekend. One of us would put something out there that we had been afraid of telling the other, only to find that, not only did the other person share that feeling, but that the other person wanted to take it a step farther. One example involves the tattoos that we ended up getting. Friday night in the car, BT said that he wanted to get me something with the emblem of a crow on it, as a symbol of protection, a symbol of constant return even beyond death. That we would return to each other no matter what. I thought it was really sweet. As we went to sleep that night, I asked him where would be the best place to get a tattoo of protection, thinking specifically of getting a crow. His answer was the back because you can’t watch it yourself. Saturday morning when I told him about my desire to get it as a tattoo on my back, he jumped at the idea to find designs from the internet when we got to my grandma’s later that day. When he brought me the pictures he’d printed from online, he even went a step farther, asking what I would think of putting a heartogram in the center of the crow design, especially as he was thinking of getting a heartogram as well. I could see he was testing something with it. So I raised him, asking him what he thought about me getting the head colored in green, for his eyes. We both got our tats together that night.
It was the same with most things over the weekend, which is how we went from planning on seriously dating when he got back to moving in together to getting married in December when he was home on Christmas Exodus before he deploys. He even did the whole proposal thing on his knees in front of my family on Sunday morning before we left St. Louis. And, despite the fact that my mom barely talked to us the whole trip back, we were all smiles and lovey-dovey-ness.
Thus closes out the first part of our story.
My Tat
His Tat
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Decision Making Strategies
When I saw this diagram on one of the feminist blogs that I visit regularly, I thought it would be a perfect way as a writer to make decisions, if you are only thinking about obtaining more experiences to draw from for your writing.
But it can sometimes get you into trouble. Or at least slightly weird situations.
Like getting stood-up on a Friday night by a guy you met on the internet who claimed to have been forced into being bi after being raped by a guy on an overnight train, in a story strangely reminiscent of one featured in the advice column Savage Love several months ago.
Like being 25 and in a car parked in the local high school's parking lot, surrounded by four cop cars, after you've decided to meet some guy off the internet to JUST make-out.
Maybe I should rethink using this diagram.......
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