Wicked Hints

So, the fabulous musical Wicked is in Charlotte right now and I want to see it. Again, because I have already seen it twice, and it was fabulous both times. (Though more fabulous the first time because the tickets were a complete surprise and I jumped and screamed for joy when I opened them.)

Now I know better and that even if I dropped a million hints, my husband is male and more than likely wouldn't pick up on those million hints and "surprise" me with tickets. And even if he did pick up on them, he's not good at keeping track of my schedule (though that could work highly to my advantage if I ever need to get away with something...) so he wouldn't know when to get tickets w/out spoiling the surprise somehow. So if I want to see this musical, I'm better off just buying them myself and telling him when we're going.

Turns out of all the times it's showing, I can make about 3 of them. And of those three times the cheapest seats start around $60. Which, I like the play and all, but meh, I have seen it. So it's a moot point really. Oh well, I can still be a little disappointed I won't have a fun night out though.

Series

me: I finished 50 Shades. Took me about 2 days.
mike: Ok. And you thought....?
me: Meh. It's pretty ridiculous. Never been kissed virgin to wanton sex goddess in 2 times or less? I don't think so. But whatever, it's a dirty book so I get the why behind the hype.
mike: Meh? What do you mean meh? 
me: Oh are you asking me do I hate myself for reading it like I did Twilight?
mike: yeah, I guess.
me: Oh, no. It's basically just, whatever, I read it. My life didn't change one way or the other. I may or may not read the rest of the series, I just don't care one way or the other.
mike: Didn't you read the whole twilight series though?
me: --sigh-- Yes. That's part of the reason I hate myself.

State Lines

mom: Why don't you change your residency to Ohio honey?
me: Because that would mean that I actually live there.   

Of all the times I've moved across state lines, I've never changed my residency.  I lived in Ohio for 7 years total, and steadfastly held onto my Kentucky residency through that time.  Turns out, I really never wanted to live in cinci.  And then I moved back to Lexington and I didn't have to worry about changing anything on my licence.  Well, seeing as I have plans to live out the rest of my life and burden my children in North Carolina, at some point I really should become a North Carolina resident.  Plus, I need in-state tuition. 

It's really not that hard.  Once I finally got a job, I could finally establish that I live here.  So I switched to NC insurance, passed my drivers test (you know that if you make it a point to never break the law and drive drunk or buy alcohol for minors, you don't bother to learn the consequences for breaking them. So when you are asked those questions on said test you have no idea what the answer is), and finally switched my tags over.

So I'm officially a North Carolina resident now.  It feels a little anti-climatic honestly.  Twenty-nine years as a Kentuckian, and then, poof, North Carolina.  That's it?  Well, ok then. I won't give up my UK allegience and pride (I never fault anyone for cheering for thier alma mater. Even if it is the devil knows as Duke), and I still won't cheer for UNC either.  But now I can really say that the Panthers are my team!

Single Ladies

My second cousin is getting married and we received the save the date in the mail. We're not in touch so I had no idea she was even seeing anyone, let alone engaged. But I'm happy for her and her parents (my mother's cousin). The save the date is addressed to Mr and Mrs my parents and Sara (don't get me started how much it annoys me when people misspell my name). My sister and her husband got their own save the date. Like grown ups.

Sigh. I think I can say I've never felt more unmarried than right then.

And no, I am not going to assume I can bring dr soc nor will I even ask if I can. I'm not going to be that asshole who brings a date when not invited with one (does the invite say "and guest?" No? Then just you buttercup), and I'm also not on comfortable enough terms with the bride to ask if I can bring a date. Like I said, I haven't been in touch and the only reason I'm invited is because I'm family. I may not even be able to go either, so this could be a moot point. But still, little ouch.

Problem Solved

My driver's side mirror is broken. It has been for a while now, something close to almost 2 years. (Yes. I know that is bad.) The mirror is still there, it's just really cracked. I can still see some stuff with it and I check my blind spot 9 out of 10 times, so it's fine.

So I've made do, and it doesn't bother me. It does however, bother dr soc.

Occasionally I drive (I suspect he drives most of the time so he never has to relinquish control over the music), so when I do, he's in the passenger seat. But he see's my broken mirror and asks "can you see out of that?"
me: yeah. enough.
dr soc: really?
me: yeah. why does it bother you?
dr soc: a little...
me: oh, well, look at that one then. (pointing to passenger mirror) ::snort:: See? Problem solved.

OK

I think it's fairly obvious things didn't end well with my ex. It was a pretty epic crash and burn if you ask me. But that doesn't negate the fact that for a decent portion of our time together I loved him and cared about him. With that said, I don't want anything bad to happen to him. He was a nice enough guy and maybe he'll make another girl happy with his mediocrity.

But with that said, I don't exactly wish him well either. Because I don't exactly want anything good to happen to him either. Because well, he's my ex-fiance and I'm just not that benevolent.

So, on that note: I wish him ok. And my friend Shayne put it best: may you project on a sideways trajectory for the rest of your life.

Domestic Bliss

In honor of national pink day (seriously):

x: We are not registering for the pink mixer!
me: Yes we are. We are registering for the ubiquitous mixer that everyone puts on their registry. And I want it in pink.
x: I want the mixer too. But not pink.
me: And what exactly do you plan to mix in the mixer anyway?
x: uh...stuff...that....you...mix (hangs head in defeat)
me: ::claps hands:: Right! The mixer's going to be pink. Oh and the blender has to match to by the way.

And with that, I flounced away utterly triumphant.
Moral of the story: when it comes to housewares, don't mess with me.

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

When it comes to fighting with boyfriends, I tend to avoid it like the plague. I have broken up with guys in order to avoid a fight before (because that's not pansy at all). And in an even more exasperating action, I seem to do it in a sissy way too. Because of all my breakups, most of them have been through some indirect method or have fizzled out naturally.

I broke up with my first boyfriend in person, and it was very very sad (oh to be 16 again with my first heartbreak). Due to the uber-sad, I've since opted for the more milquetoast route. And its not always me doing the cop-out breaking up. I've been broken up with (dumped just sounds so ouch) over the phone at least 3 times. Though one of those guys didn't really want to break up. Poor AJ, when he said "I think we should see other people," I said "sure, ok" and shrugged my shoulders. I know I didn't cry. I guess I could have tried to sound a little more upset over it huh? Meh, water under the bridge now and I heard he was engaged now, so yay for him!

Another time I broke up with someone over the phone, then proceeded to make out with him the next night, and then refused to return his calls. I can't image why he thought I was crazy (in my defense I was 20 and all 20 year old girls are stupid and crazy in some way). Hmm, wonder whatever happened to him... I did have "the talk" over AIM once, but we both didn't want anything serious at the time so it was quite amicable. Library Guy and I just had "the talk" over email. We don't want the same type of relationship, so I put the kibosh on the whole thing and no more hooking up (does this even count as breaking up?) all through email.

But yeah, here's the pièce de résistance of break-ups. I officially broke up with my fiance over the phone. Yep. Uh-huh. On the phone. So the most significant breakup of my life, and I tell him to there's no chance for us over our shared cell plan (did the minutes even count?). The in-person maybe we still had a chance talk/hug ubruptly ended with when we started snipping over a pot (it was mine because it had a lid that matched. duh). It was the 2nd to last time I saw him (though I didn't know it at the time), and we argued over a fliping cooking pot (and I looked like ass too, no bitter there).

Well, at least I haven't been dumped/dumped someone through text messaging. Or post it note (Carrie Bradshaw refrence). All this break-up talk is making me sad. Me thinks the bottle of Woodford is calling my name.

A$$ Tax

Ass tax is the stuff that's left over from your previous relationships. It's the pj pants you refused to give up, the free weights he left on your floor, the book he lent you, the earrings you forgot on his nightstand, ect. And you're either a: too hurt to get them back, b: don't care/forgot about the stuff, or c) a combination of the two.

I don't think I've collected a lot of ass tax myself, nor have I left that many things behind. I may have a tshirt or two and a pair of sweat pants from boyfriends past. And I'm sure I've left trinket jewelry and beauty products along the way. For most of the ex's stuff that got mixed with mine, I threw away or donated (most of his stuff was crap anyway). There were a few that's-mine-no-it's-not-squabbles, but the splitting of stuff could have gone a lot worse. He did try and accuse me of taking a ton of his kitchen stuff. And I snorted back with a "what, a rusty cookie sheet? You can have that back."

Anyway, I think my arm band for my iPod has fallen the by the way of ass tax. I went hunting for it the other day, but I'm pretty sure I unpacked the box it would have been in if I had it. And boo to that, because I have one of the first nano's, so they don't make my particular iPod anymore or it's accessories. So I can't really go out and but a new one either. And it's a little late to be asking him if he's seen it. Besides, I thought it was fairly obvious that whatever left behind or accidentaly taken was as good as gone.

The only exception was the dog. Her I got back ::smile::

Mixed Messages

Delighted that I am on a new birth control and it's not making me a hormonal be-yotch, here's an email I sent library guy:

"Hey remember that time we hooked up in my car? Can we do that again?"

Right. Because that's something a woman says when she would rather be a girlfriend than a f*ck buddy.

And yet, I just asked him to hook up again later this week.
So. We may just be f*ck buddies. But meh, so be it. It feels pretty good the way it is. And what the hell, I'm going to at least enjoy it.

Maybe

Six months ago there was an ultimatum. I originally gave him 6 months to decide between me and (what I think is) a future in Lexington, or life as is in Cincinnati-without me. And that was just to decide, he wanted at least another 6 months after the choice to tie up loose ends (aka, get 300 "last shows" in) if he picked me. I honestly don't know who/what he would have chosen. And it makes me sad I don't know. Not the decision itself, but that I was unsure of what he would do. To save us both a lot of wish-washing, I took the ultimatum off the table and ended the relationship for good, just shy a month the start of the "break." He probably hadn't even thought about anything yet. And since I told him he didn't have to make a choice anymore, I know he never thought about it again.

And while I say I don't know what he would have picked, I think I do know, and it wouldn't have been me. I think he knows that too. Of course I could be over estimating him there. I think he wants to believe that he would have picked me and I didn't give him a chance to prove it. But even if he had moved here, as my friend point out, the relationship was going to be full of resentfulness from one side or the other. Mine if we were in Cincinnati, his if we were in Lexington.

Even though I know the end result, I wonder if I made that final call too quickly. Maybe we could have lived happily ever after together. I do know he's never going to leave Cincinnati. I know he's never going to be the rock star he thinks he'll be. And I hope he never gets someone as good as me ever again. I still love him, but not as much, and maybe a part of me always will. Maybe one day I'll truly wish him well (because I so don't right now). But I don't think I made the wrong call, even if it was a bit fast. There were just too many maybes for my comfort. Maybe, just maybe, he'll never get another girlfriend or marry and pine for me forever. It's petty, but that's a maybe I'm willing to hold on to.

Meh

No chemistry with law school guy. I don't expect him to call again, and if he did, I don't think I would accept another date. Dating a law school guy sounds nice in theory, but I found him a bit dull and his hair too dorky (but it was dark, at least I got that part right). Thank goodness I had a glass of wine (I lied, sober wasn't going to happen. Dorky hair.)

So not a bad date, but not a great date in any means. And I'm not even upset about that.