When I was 18, my family up and moved from Chicago to San Diego. Fresh out of high school, I thought I’d die leaving my friends and summer plans. My heart stayed broken throughout most of 1986. I no longer had things to do on the weekends and no one knew my name. And for a teenager? That’s hell. Also, at a time when my pals were preparing to go off to university in fabulous East Coast towns, I was registering for community college because the move disrupted my plans to attend Creighton. It would be one entire long, lonely year before I made it back to the Midwest. Meanwhile, I spent a lot of time by myself. One burning recollection is eating alone between classes at McDonald’s while other classmates frolicked and played a few tables over. I very nearly cried right there in my Big Mac with no pickles.
Life goes on. All this seems so silly now because you know, I cut my person chops during that tumultuous time. I learned how to be alone, and even better, to enjoy it. I built character, relied on myself, and emerged a better phoenix from the ashes of teen angst.
Buuuuttttt…I still harbor fear of sitting alone at a table in a crowded room.
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When I was 25, I visited a Chicago street fair with my best girlfriends. We boozed and schmoozed and bambaloozed for hours and had a grand old time. In the late afternoon, we ran into some guys we’d known in college who now lived just down the street from us. I didn’t know the boys well, or at all, really, other than by cute guy reputation, so I stayed on the fringes of a very long conversation. Also, my two good friends were — are — HOT. Like Girls of Summer calendar hot. Like if Jessica Rabbit weren’t a rabbit hot…so I understood when the guys wanted to keep talking to them. I kinda just tapped my foot and pet dogs and smiled occasionally, secreting wishing we could just GO already. Finally, my friend announced she was going to run to the bathroom and then we’d go. I went with her and she pulled me aside to say, “Do you know why we’re still here?”
Of course I knew. Cute boys and hot girls. I got it.
“No,” she said. “Because Todd likes you.”
I swear you could have knocked me over with this most unexpected pronouncement. What? Someone noticed me? With the two hotties by my side? And truthfully? God bless her, she seemed surprised too.
I blushed, stammered, and walked back outside with a measure of new confidence. Of course, nothing came of it, but I realized in that moment that you don’t always know what people are thinking.
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When it was Monday night, I met up with my longtime blog crush, Bejewell. She was awesome, natch. As the conversation turned to BlogHer as it is wont to do every late July-early August, Beej said, “You know I love you guys, but if I have extra money to spend, I’m going to spend it on a vacation with my family.”
Despite the excitement for my first blogging conference and the anticipation of hanging for four days with like minds, I nodded. Her comment cut through the ether and made me realize, “My head sure is in the online space a lot. When’s the last time I hung out with my kids after dinner instead of jumping on the computer?”
Beej is good like that. She makes you think. And laugh. Often at the same time.
I’ve got a lot to think about.
Hopefully, while laughing…
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When it was today, I hyperventilated my way through the morning. This evening, I’ll be winging to New York and I’ve got that flying phobia thing. I often think when I’m in the throes of another anxiety attack: “Stop. Enjoy where you are. Don’t let your crazy worry mind hijack your moments.”
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Which brings me to right now.
UPDATED: As Laurie Ann points out, Jessica Rabbit wasn’t a rabbit. Which changes the whole focus of this post, dammit.
I think you’re adorable and adorable wins over hot most times because, let’s face it, hot can be intimidating for most men.
Also, Jessica Rabbit wasn’t a rabbit.
I’m incredibly jealous that you get to go to BlogHer. I want to go. Waaaa! But alas, I’m not that good of a blogger and I don’t even have a following and I think that you may very well be my blog crush.
As for the flying, well you already know that I’m in the same boat, or plane as it were, right there with you. Lorazepam + 2 Bloody Mary’s = Bat. Hopefully there is supposed to be an apostrophe there. I don’t have a flight until Vegas in October for a trade show. Although, if the kids keep acting up I just may take Lorazepam on your behalf.
Have fun for me, k? Oh, and for yourself too…
Feeling much of the same way. Just chatted my friend and was all “OK, officially can feel the panic starting to set in.” Last night we were supposed to go out and I was just frozen.
It is that whole group of new people on the first day of school feeling… and I feel entirely uncool.
I would love to go to BlogHer–and I know you will have an amazing time–but I do like what Bejewell said. I often say that I’m glad I was able to raise my little kids before smartphones, texting, Twitter, blogging and Facebook. I didn’t have to make those choices.
A wise person once told me that there are two reasons we feel guilt: 1) You have done something wrong–really, wrong. Or, 2) It is the price you pay to continue doing something you want to do.
I rarely feel guilty due to the first reason. I am not perfect, but I rarely do something that is really wrong. I am basically a rule follower and while I am sure I have hurt people’s feelings I am not a habitual wrong doer. Buuuttt…. I do feel guilty–often. And that is because it is the price I pay to (every once in a while) do something I want to do. Why do we have to “pay” a price to doing something we want? And why does that price come in the form of shaming ourselves?
Let me know if you figure that out.
In the meantime, I hope you had a great flight! And have a wonderful, guilt-free trip time at BlogHer. xxoo
Listen, my issue is MUCH more of a financial one — if I could afford to do both, I would. I’d LOVE to go to BlogHer, or Blissdom, or any of the other gazillion blog things out there — but I just can’t make it swing with the money I’ve got, so tough choices have to be made, and when that’s the case, the family’s going to win every time. Besides, I got to meet YOU on my vacation, and Sugar and Mel — it was like my own little mini-Blogher, without all the bullshit!
You should be GLAD that you can go, and have FUN, and don’t WORRY, because you are AWESOME. You charmed the pants off of me and my little sister, and if you can do that, you can charm anyone. (The little sis is a judgmental little shit.)
You’re going to be the hit of BlogHer! I just know it! And when you’re rich and famous, wining and dining with all the bigwigs and driving your fancy car that someone loaned you to write about, and signing autographs and shit, I’ll still be over here with my tiny little blog, feeling petty and jealous and wishing your legs would fall off.
And I mean that in the best possible way.
LOVE. HUGS. FACE LICKS. Have the BEST TIME EVER.
Beej
Just totally love ya. I hope that I’ll have time to expand on that soon, but, when I go through Google Reader and mark everything as read because I’m so busily crazed and can’t deal with the blog reading guilt, I always save yours to read later. Always. Never skip ’em. :)