A Perfect Life

Throughout my mere 24 years, I have become acutely aware of my over-active imagination. I daydream all day long, making up stores or scenarios in my head. Honestly, I think my imagination is in just as much over-drive as it was when I was just a little nugget. Perhaps more so, even. And I happen to love it. It's one of the strongest forces behind what makes me a writer. And frankly, I'm never bored with myself.

One thing that I imagine all the time, and perhaps too much for any realist out there, is how my life would be if it was a movie or a novel and I was the writer. I have a personal little fantasy created of exactly how my life would be if everything could be absolutely perfect. And I've decided to share it with you, dear readers.

Some of these are unlikely, though still plausible goals. I'm working towards them every day, to no avail. Some, as you will see, are simply made up. This is when you suspension of disbelief would have to come in. That's what makes stories so good anyway.

• Job: I would have a full-time, permanent job in public relations with a non-profit. In particular, it would be working with young girls like the YWCA or the Girl Scouts. It would be a fun job that I loved going to every day, with fabulous co-workers and the ability to stress very little about my job once I came home. I would make about $75,000 a year. I'm sure this is where I will lose some people. I can just hear people saying, "well, if you could be filthy rich making millions, why would you only choose $75,000 annually?" Because it's very important to me that I never forget what it's like to want. $75,000 a year would be the perfect amount for me to be financially stable, be able to save, pay off my loans, still have plenty of fun money, and yet, I would still have to create a budget.
• vehicle: I would have a beautiful little red convertible. Don't ask me about make/model/year or anything like that. Cars are cars to me. I just know that I've always wanted a convertible. And red seems to be a good color for convertibles.
• residence: I would have a cozy house with a big back yard and a deck outside. (And let's be real here: my significant other would be taking care of the yard work. Fuck that.) Inside would be fully furnished with matching furniture and decor. The wine-themed kitchen would have all kinds of appliances, particularly Food Network ones. I would have a room dedicated solely to reading, writing and scrapbooking. There would be as many bookshelves as I needed to hold all my books (I'm already at two so you can only imagine how many I'd have if I had the money and space for how many I would like to have), a table for scrapbooking, (even if it's just a folding table that could fit in the closet) and a desk for writing. The closet would be bursting with my scrapbooking bins and maybe even my shoes if they overflowed from my bedroom closet. Speaking of which, I'd have an even better shoe collection than I already have.
• environment: I freaking hate the cold. Hate it. Summer is by far my favorite season. I do love fall though, as well. Can't leave out all the wonderful meals, smells and colors that come out of fall. It would be wonderfully hot and sunny summer from March to August. September to December 21st would be fall. I thought for a long time I would want just summer and fall. But it is nice to have a tiny bit of snow on the ground for Christmas and New Years. So winter would last from December 22nd to January 1st. I've also thought about having it go right from winter to summer. But, that would just be a flooded, slushy mess. And the blooming of all the trees and flowers is pretty as well. So we can have spring from January 2nd to March when summer starts back up. Also, pollen and dust of any sorts would be allergens. There would be no scratching of the eyes, nose and throat...nor would there be watery eyes and sneezing. 

This is the most that I've come up with so far. Maybe a second post will come after some more day dreaming. 

Be the Light Community Walk for Suicide Prevention

On Saturday I participated in Brown County's First annual Be the Light Walk for Suicide Prevention. Previously, the walk was under the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, but this year the organizers decided to break away from the nationally recognized chapter to focus their efforts locally. With AFSP, half the proceeds were donated at a local level and half national. With the change to Be the Light, 100% of profits were donated locally.

This was my third year participating in a walk for this cause, through the same group of walkers and organizers. Every year we see a bigger turn out, raise more money, and see more raffle donations. This year, the walk has raised a total of $14,893! Especially with the money going towards QPR (Question, Persuade, Refer) training programs, school programs and prevention in Brown County, this is an incredible feat and an amazing number.

Our balloon release

Knowing I'm part of such a needed and important organization is really overwhelming, but in a good way. I'm so proud to be working for an organization and towards a cause that doesn't get much coverage. Suicide just doesn't get talked about much, and prevention and awareness programs get even less acknowledgement.  I've come to the realization today that whenever I get down on myself about feeling like I'm not doing anything towards my future or with my life, I need to remember my involvement with Be the Light. Raising $240 and participating in the walk is nothing to scoff at.

As wonderful as it is gaining more support every year, seeing the walk participant rate grow and the donations number rise, it's heartbreaking. Absolutely heartbreaking. Every person there knows someone who completed suicide. Everyone there has lost someone and everyone there has had to find their way to grieve. I'm glad the loved ones of the lost have put together this walk and organization, though, because it seems to be so therapeutic for everyone, the parents in particular. Hearing the stories of parents, children, siblings and friends brings in such a sense of community.

Every year that I see so many people gathering for support and in hopes of prevention of losing anyone else, it makes me wonder about those who have passed. If they could see how many people come out every year to remember them, honor them and grieve for them, would they have still felt so hopeless?

Labor Day Weekend Funsies

This weekend was one of the best weekends I've had in quite some time. I had been looking forward to it for weeks, mostly and simply because of the extra day off from work. Who doesn't love a three day weekend? Luckily, my holiday weekend wasn't a disappointment. I didn't go out, or have a plan-packed few  days like I typically do on Friday through Sunday, but sometimes the quiet ones are the best kind. So, dear readers, I have decided to share my enjoyment with you.

Thursday:

Coworker and I at the game

Ok, so I know that Thursday wasn't technically part of the weekend, but I can't not write about it. My coworker bought tickets from someone else at work for the Packers game and I was lucky enough to be able to go with her. I didn't even care that it was "only preseason," as many loyal fans would say. I was so pumped to go. It ended up being the perfect night to go to a game, and nearly everything ran smoothly. We hardly ran into any backed-up traffic on our way up to Green Bay from work, which was incredibly surprising. Usually the entire drive is a nightmare and the highway typically comes to a dead stop at least 2 or 3 times on my way home. After a fairly easy drive home, we were able to park at Man Friend's work. His office is just a short walk from Lambeau, we didn't have to worry about paying for parking or getting out of a congested parking lot/yard. Score! Anyway, the game was great and so much fun to watch. There's just something about being part of the energy of watching the game live that is so much different from watching on tv at home. We had pretty decent seats in the endzone and had a perfect view. I didn't even have a Sasquatch sitting in front me to block my entire sight. Score again! The only complaint I had about the game was the douchebag sitting next to me, who took up the space of a seat and a half, plus his child. Not only did he take up extra space, he was not polite and told Coworker and I that we needed to move over, despite the fact that the entire row was full. Ill-mannered neighbors aside, I had a blast at the game. It also didn't hurt that we won 24-3.

Friday:

In an effort to save some moo-lah, Man Friend and I decided early last week to have a pizza and movie night Friday. All week I looked forward to having a relaxing night in and have some couple time. Man Friend is really into comic book/super hero movies and has seen them all a zillion times. They typically aren't my style of movies, but I have started watching the "Avengers" series (as I call them) to be able to engage myself in his interests. We watched Thor a few weeks ago, so I decided I wanted to watch Iron Man this weekend to continue through the characters and their stories. I never thought I'd hear myself say I was excited for this kind of movie, but I was. Man Friend picked me up in the evening, we grabbed a Take n Bake pizza, and grabbed some movies. In addition to getting Iron Man, we also got 21 Jump Street. IM was really good; I enjoyed it far more than I had expected. I couldn't follow everything and did have to ask a few questions, but I am definitely looking forward to the sequel. 21 Jump Street was absolutely hilarious. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard during a movie. I love Jonah Hill, and he and Channing Tatum actually made a pretty good pair. Not to mention, what woman doesn't like looking at Channing Tatum? Date Night In was a nice change of pace, and it was great to be able to actually enjoy each other's company by ourselves for once.

Saturday:

To continue with our date night, Man Friend and I spent the afternoon at the N.E.W. Zoo. I love going to the zoo, and Man Friend hadn't been since he was a little nugget. Maybe it's the excitement of watching the animals, or the feeling of being a kid again, but I always have so much fun at the zoo. We were able to feed the giraffes and the billy goats, in addition to checking out all the exhibits. It was a beautiful day for the trip, too, warm and sunny. The only thing I hadn't taken into consideration was that it was a Saturday on a holiday weekend, right before school started for many kids. The zoo was pretty busy, and thus, we didn't get to stay at each exhibit as long as I would have liked. There were lines behind us, as well as kids (not to mention parents!) weaseling their way in front of us and through the lines. Aggravated, we ended up just letting others get through and quickly moved from each animal.
                                                                        

                                                          
At night, I had two of my friends over to catch up. I hadn't seen them since November, and was really excited to be able to hang out. Ok, let's back track. The two friends are actually my ex's brother and his girlfriend. When I was with T-Douche, the four of us hung out all the time. Pretty much every time I was home for college, we spent time together. When we broke up, the hardest part of the break up was not being able to see those two as much. Luckily, though, the three of us have actually stayed friends and in contact. Although, we don't hang out every weekend anymore, we still try to get together every few months. Also, luckily, Man Friend gets along with them really well and there isn't any awkwardness of hanging out with my ex's family. Man Friend, Friends and I chatted and laughed for five hours, and it hardly felt like any time had passed at all.

Sunday:

During the day, I didn't do much. At all. By the time 4 p.m. had rolled around, I hadn't even showered yet, and the only things I could account for all day were a walk, finding recipes to make, and coming up with a grocery list. Because I had high hopes of a really productive afternoon, I was frustrated with and disappointed in myself for wasting an entire day. But then I realized how nice it was not be rushing around on errands or with plans. I wasn't stressed out, and had given myself plenty of time to clear my head off all the thoughts that have been racing through lately. The guilt I had been experiencing quickly drifted after this realization.

At night, Roomie, Man Friend and I got Chinese take-out and watched movies. Ok, ok, Roomie and Man Friend watched a scary movie about some dolls and I read. I tried my best to tune out the movie and focus on my book. I'm such a pansy ass when it comes to scary movies. Hell, just thinking about Are You Afraid of the Dark? still gets me close to peeing my pants. Anyway, even after just catching glimpses and snipits of the movie, I was still afraid to leave the brightly-lit living room. After their movie finished, we all watched Wanda Sykes stand-up. I love her, mostly because she's so vulgar. The vulgar comedians are always my favorites.

After a rejuvenating and stress-free weekend, I'm actually (almost) ready for the week ahead.

Happiness is...

It is so easily to get caught up in the negative things in life, especially when you have a string of bad luck. My whole existence has always been focused on trying to stay positive no matter what the situation. Unfortunately, in the last year or two, I've really started to lose that quality in myself. And lately, I've been giving myself some mini reality checks that I still have so much to be happy about in my life. I've noticed that it truly is the simplest of things that can put me in a good mood or change my entire outlook on a day. So I've decided to share some of these simplistic miracles with you, my dear readers.

Happiness is...

• Realizing you're grown up enough to be friends with your friends' parents
• Playing with your favorite little munchkin
• Getting complimented on your tattoos
• Good morning, Beautiful texts
• Someone else noticing you've lost weight
• Freshly painted toenails (in your favorite heels, of course)
• Finishing an incredibly well-written and suspenseful book
• Eating a delicious meal
• Hearing a great song for the first time on the radio
• Man friend reaching his arm up for you to hold while he's on the ground and you're on an air mattress
• Enjoying a bottle of wine with your best friend
• Laughing with your friends until your gut hurts
• The smell of an apple cinnamon candle burning
• Getting a massage
• Gaining a new follower on Twitter
• Summer
• Fitting perfectly in your man friend's arms
• Having the satisfaction of knowing you're right
• Getting mail that's not a bill, credit card application or other form of junk
• Broken in Chuck Taylors
• Watching a Packers game, particularly a Packer win
• Finding a really great item on clearance

Sucky and Super Sunday

I actually have a Super and Sucky post on a Sunday! Hooray!

Sucky:

• I spent the day working today. We just recently started a new weekend rotation and I worked my first Sunday in many months. I don't care how petty it is, it still made me grouchy.
• While Roomie's birthday was a blast (more on that below). I almost didn't get let into a bar because of my ID. It's getting pretty worn around the photo and apparently the hologram is hard to see. The bouncer asked for a second form of ID (no big deal, it happens) and all I had on me was my debit card, with, you know, a matching name to my license. He looked at that and asked if I had anything else with my picture on it. No. I did not. Number one, I don't even own two photo IDs. Number two,  after three years of going to the bars, I don't feel the need to bring three forms of identification with me. Roomie stepped in on my behalf and said, "She's 24!" To which Bouncer said, "And I'm older. What's your point?" Here's where I started really having a problem. I get that he was just doing his job, and if my ID looks sketch, fine. But he was just being a douchebag. And there is zero need for such an attitude problem. He eventually gave my card to a second employee who went and got a flashlight, stared at it for another minute, and I was dramatically allowed inside. Give me a fucking break.
• It's been a while, but a few weeks ago I took a massive digger in the work parking lot. One of my favorite pairs of wedges was falling apart on the bottom and the sole was flapping around. But I wore them anyway because they're cute. Well...the broken flap caught on a crack in the sidewalk, and slow motion style, I ate shit. Luckily no one was around to see my mishap, and even more luckily, because I was in a dress and probably would have flashed everyone. It hurt so bad that I didn't even yell any profanities. I just sat there agonizing for a second and then let out an indistinguishable goan/shout. My first thought, clearly, was OH MY GOD I DON'T HAVE INSURANCE; WHAT IF SOMETHING'S BROKEN? Well, over active imagination aside, I was fine. It stung like hell and took two weeks to clear up, but I was fine. 

Super:

• Even though Roomie desperately tried to skip his 25th birthday, we went out and had a blast. Prior to bar hopping, we started off at our house. Two of our friends shopped up with a walker (complete with tennis balls on the back legs), and over the hill sippy cup and reading glasses. It was the hardest I had laughed in a really long time. We went bar hopping to a few different places, went dancing at the gay bar, and ended the night at Perkins, naturally. I didn't get to bed until after 4:30, and holy shit, I'm old too because that's late as hell for me now. 21 year old me just laughed in my face.
• The next morning I watched a several-hour game of sloshball played by a bunch of friends. It's basically kickball, with lots of alcohol added in. The rules, that I managed to catch, were that you have to have a cup of beer in your hand at all times, you have to stop at second base to chug a beer, to start the game, two teams face off with a game of flip cup, and keg stands were in there somewhere. It  was pretty entertaining to watch. I did not, at any point, take part in said festivities. I'm not even remotely coordinated sober. 

The Big 2-5

In the past few weeks leading up to Roomie's 25th birthday (which is today, so happy birthday!), there's been a lot of discussion in our household about that number. You know, that 25 number. It seems to be holding quite a bit of weight.

In the 13 years that I've been friends with Roomie, I haven't ever seen him so distressed about anything, especially about a birthday. And it's got me thinking. And worrying. I've got a year yet before I hit that number, but there's just something about that digit that is just so unsettling.

Nearly everyone I've talked to has said that turning 25 was their hardest birthday ever. My ex's mom said that turning 25 was harder than 30, 40 or even 50. A former coworker said she didn't even stay out past 8:00 on the night of her birthday because she went home crying.

Just what about that number seems to be so hard for everyone to handle? Well, after quite a bit of contemplation, I think I may have some answers.

1) 25 feels old. Even though, it's still relatively young; not even "late 20s" yet. But for some reason, it has always felt like so much more of a grown up, and so far off. Even when I graduated college at 21, 25 seemed so far away. Dating someone who was 25 almost seemed too old for me, even though if I was single now, a 4 year difference of 27 doesn't seem like a big deal at all. 25 is also so close to 30, and let me tell you, I'm in total denial that number will ever come into my existence. Oh yeah, there's also the realization that you're a quarter of a century. Holy shit, a quarter of a century feels waaay older than just saying 25.

2) Because 25 feels like such a grown up, it gives people a solid point of reference. When people hit that age, I feel they expect themselves to have hit certain milestones in their lives. We put such pressure on ourselves to be so successful by certain points in our lives. We feel like we've failed ourselves if we haven't hit these timely goals. At that, my friends, is where the anxiety comes in.

Former Coworker said she wanted to be married with kids by 25. Instead, she was single in a tiny one bedroom apartment by herself. She was so unhappy that she hadn't hit this fictitious goal soon enough, that she couldn't even enjoy what she did have going for herself. 

My fears about turning 25 aren't as much about not hitting goals for my personal life as I am with my professional life. I know that I still have a year to go, but I never thought I'd be where I am at even 24. At that's not as positive as it sounds. When I was in college, I never imagined that two years after graduating, I wouldn't be working in my field. I never imagined I'd be a temp ever, let alone after 15 months. I never imagined myself working in a call center. I knew that in my field I wouldn't make loads of money, but I had figured I'd be making more than what I'm making now. I never thought I would work so hard for that degree to feel like it's going to waste. 

I already can feel exactly how turning 25 will pan out for me. If I find a job that I'm truly very happy in, and/or a job using my degree, if I'm in a permanent position with benefits and if I feel remotely successful with where my life is going, I'm sure that 25 won't be such a hard-hitting blow. It may be hard to accept that I fully need to be a grown up, or holy shit I'm mid-20s now, but I don't think it will cause me loads of anxiety. HOWEVER, I'm not confident that will happen. I sure as shit hope I have a permanent job by then, but chances of it being something using my education and background are slim. If I'm still in some customer service job, or even worse, a job that causes me as much anxiety and distress as my current one, I'll frickin lose it. But until then, I just need to focus on the accomplishments I have made and try to stay as positive as possible. 

Rock Fest 2012 Part 2

There's so much to Rock Fest besides just the concerts. The camping and meeting new people is such an experience in and of itself, so the rest of the trip deserves its own post.

As I alluded to in my first Rock Fest post, this was my second trip out to the Fest. Man Friend was one of our Fest Virgins, my uncle has been every year, and my aunt hasn't missed a year since she started going about four or five years in. Having my best friend by my side and meeting three new really fun couples, I had even more fun than last year and couldn't have asked for a better four days.

I planned most of the trip with my aunt and uncle, partially because they have been going so long, and partially because they just have way more stuff than Man Friend and I do combined. Also, because Aunt and Uncle are frankly just awesome people who I really enjoy spending time with. Uncle is my godfather and also shared a duplex with my parents for a few years when I was a kid. Growing up, I spent a lot of time with him and we've always gotten along really well, so when he married Aunt, it was kind of like an automatic like. But I got along with Aunt right away too, and now we're just one big barrel of fun.

Unlike most people who surround me, I love the heat. I love summer, I love the sun beating on me, and I love being warm. However, it was really frickin hot this weekend. Just about unbearable hot. Luckily, at the campsite, we had a little bit of shade from Aunt and Uncle's camper awning, but that only took care of not having 90 degree heat beating directly on you. And in the concert area, we didn't have anything. Man Friend and I went through almost an entire spray bottle of SPF 50, and both of our fair skin still got burned. Poor Man Friend was was more burned than I was; even though he put new applications of sunscreen on frequently, he still looked like a lobster by the end of the trip.

Before I left, my dad said "Please
drink more than just alcohol this
weekend." So I texted him this from
our pit stop to Subway before
getting to the Fest grounds.

It was actually so hot that I was worried about dehydration all weekend. I got overly dehydrated once in Hawaii, and after nearly passing out on a school trip, I don't ever want to experience that again. I was pounding so much water that it was cancelling out my alcohol intake. Even though I drank A LOT, I didn't get drunk one day. I was a little bummed by that, but not bummed enough to stop gulping water. You have to know your body's limits and being able to feel the giddiness of being drunk is simply not worth risking personal safety to me. However, my favorite beer Summer Shandy and Jack Daniels Downhome Punch wine coolers did go down really easily in that heat.

Enjoying a Shandy with my awesome homemade coozie from
my younger cousin.

Our campsite was actually made up of a group of many sites. Aunt and Uncle have a lot of Rock Fest friends, and they all reserve sites together. Our area consisted of eleven couples and two singles, all coming in from Minnesota, Michigan, Iowa, and of course, Wisconsin. I had so much fun hanging out with the people I had met last year, and getting to know the people who I was just meeting. Even though there's about a twenty year age gap between me and the majority of the people in our group, they never fail to deliver a good time. Not to mention, not one of them has ever treated me any differently because I'm so young. They just all accepted me (and this year, Man Friend) into their Rock Fest family.

In between shows and before concerts started for the day, there was never any shortage of things to do at the campsite. One couple (from Michigan) brought the game for bean bag toss with Detroit Lions and Green Bay Packers bean bags. We played that game a lot, and it was especially fun whenever the Packer fans played against the Lions fans. Nothing like a little healthy competition to get things going. We also sat around an inflatable pool, occasionally dipping our feet in to cool off during the day and around the fire at night.

Man Friend and me playing Bean Bags. I had to be the Lions :(

On Sunday, the last day of the Fest, there weren't too many bands any of us were especially eager to watch. The big two were Poison and Def Leppard, but they didn't start until after it was dark. With nothing to do during the day and after sitting in the beat sun for three days, we decided to spend a few hours swimming. About a 45 minute drive from the campground was a nice little beach everyone referred to as "The Falls." Don't ask me which "Falls" these were. I have no idea. Anyway, despite my reservations, I really enjoyed myself.

After nearly drowning as a child, I'm terrified of water. Absolutely terrified. Needless to say, pools and natural bodies of water aren't exactly my best friends. As soon as the water reaches my waist or chest, I get really nervous and typically will not go any further. In fact, I will likely back up or get out. I don't swim well, and if I can't touch the bottom with my toes, I'm over it. Well, much to my distaste, we got to the Falls and I found out that in order to actually get to the beach, you need to cross a part of the river (or lake? who knows) because there isn't any adjoining dry land. Already I was hesitant. Then our group started crossing, and the water was up to their waist at least, and they're all way taller than me. At this point, I was way past hesitant, and ready to say fuck it and just wave to them from the other side.

Luckily, though, my ever calm better half convinced me it would be okay and we slowly made the trek to the other side. We had to watch for some really slippery and sharp rocks at the bottom so we wouldn't fall or slice our feet open. Oddly enough, this added danger was a little bit of a relief to me. It gave me more excuse to go extra slowly without worrying about holding up the rest of our group or feeling like an idiot. When everyone is cautious, you don't really stick out much. Once we got to the other side, the water actually wasn't very deep at all. I waded in up to about knee length and sat on some of the higher rocks with everyone. I ended up rather enjoying myself after the worrisome crossing was over. And when it was time to go back, I knew what to expect which takes care of half the fear.

Man Friend and Uncle swimming

Year two of my Rock Fest excursions was quite the success. It was worth every penny I spent and every moment of unpaid work days I used. I had so much fun all four days; it was a wonderful little vacation, even if it wasn't anywhere fancy.