I’m going through my Shazam tags when I notice I’ve shazamed Wang Chungs, Everybody Have Fun Tonight. Wow Ana…..It has the fucking name of the band, in the hook.
I decide to listen to it a la Spotify. I haven’t even belt out an ‘everybody have fun tonight’ when a friend texts me saying simply “Wang Chung?”. Spotify is always selling me down the river. I have made peace with the fact it must broadcast things like ” Ana has listened to Wrecking Ball by Miley Cyrus 15 times. On repeat.” but this seemed like a new low. I quickly turned my session back to “private” and ignore the text.
I finish the candy bar I’ve deemed breakfast, look down at my pink valour pajamas and it suddenly becomes overwhelming clear that I need to get my shit together.
I mean who doesn’t know who sings Everybody Have Fun Tonight?
I walk out of the bathroom stall and like any good citizen, wash my hands.
Finishing up I realize to my horror that my dress is tucked into my nylons. Locking eyes with the lady next to me I feel myself flush red. She knows. It is at that very moment, as she’s ties her hair up, I notice that she has her belly button pierced and that I have nothing to be ashamed of.
Over the weekend I had the pleasure of taking my now senior citizen parents to a big wine tasting event. Being up in age, they don’t get out often. Needless to say, this was a big deal. They wasted no time getting down to the business of sampling. In a flash it seemed as though I was living some kind of freaky friday remake. There I am, sober as a nun as I watch my parents getting more and more tanked.
It’s the 15th time my mother has told me that she enjoyed the California Pinot that I excuse myself to the rest room. As I walk down the hall I can hear my father over the roar of the festival telling a winery representative that “This is the best God damn wine I’ve tried all night”.
There should’ve been a number of cues for me that it was time to get going. Ultimately, it was my father who made the call. He nudges me with two fistfuls of complimentary festival wine glasses. ” Lets grab as many of these as we can and get the hell out of here ” He asserts bee-lineing it out the door. I nod, pick up a few glasses, and we flee.
The apple, as they say, has fallen directly under the tree. As I watch my 60+ year old father - arms outstreched “flying” through the parking and professing his excitiment over our evening - I couldn’t be happier.
It’s the most important & happiest day of your life!
I just need to write a little bit about some of the misconceptions about the wedding process.
The bride is beautiful - Of course she is, she’s been on some crazy diet that causes her to fly off the handles or fume silently if anyone eats anything in-front of her. Oh and she’s working out so much the gym attendants think she’s losing her mind.
The groom will become utterly useless in the wedding process. No, you’re not alone, something strange happens to adult males when they start to plan a wedding. They turn in to full blown children unable to lift a finger or make any decision. Chances are you’ll laugh about this later but they better not so much as chuckle because that shit is not funny in the moment. I’ll take this time to tell you I almost threw my lap top across the room when my husband suggest we walk back down the isle to Andrew WK - Party Hard. Normal, non-bride Ana sees’ the humor here.
You think you’re going to eat your heart out at the reception to reward yourself for a job well done - no. The stress doesn’t disapate that quickly and chances are you wont feel like eating. Champagne becomes a blessing and a curse. Fast forward to me insisting my friend pour champagne in my mouth from crystal toasting goblets…now immortalized in many pictures.
The stress, how do I even describe? I was a social worker for years and that was stressful. Like rip your hair out and cry stressful. Wedding stress it a whole new ball game. While I didn’t feel more stressed then my time in social work I felt stressed in a whole new way. I was holding on to a ton of stress in my body in a way I never had in my life. After the wedding I came down with the flu for a week - it’s not fucking flu season. My body just gave out.
Friends will disappoint you and/or get on your nerves. Someone you hoped would come, doesn’t show. Contrastly, your husbands best friend calls you during your pre-wedding photo session and asks if he can drink the bottle of wine in your fridge before your brunch wedding begins at 10:30am. Go fuck yourself. I held out until that very moment to be free of “Bridezilla” behavior. It was then that I ripped the phone out of my fiancés hand excused myself from the pictures and explained with copious expletives that if he touched that wine he should not bother coming to the wedding.
But like magic…..your procession song begins to play and all the physco thoughts and stress disappears like the morning fog to reveal your beautiful day.
But you wouldn’t know that with the year I’ve had.
All since November I’ve gotten engaged. Gotten a new car. Moved in a new home, that my fiance owns. Gotten a tiny puppy. and drum roll please…tomorrow I start my new job in a completely different field than I’ve been working in the last 4+ years.
Change is good, or so they say. But what do they say about so much change at once? My hope is good things but time will be the judge. My only hope is that the verdict be in my favor. I have no room for complaint, it’s all been postive. I only wish my life would stop spinning and let me catch up.
My insides are tied in knots and no matter how many deep breaths I take I never feel like I’ve inhaled.
One of the downfalls about my new housing arrangement is that you can look from the street directly into my bathroom.
This completely rules out peeing with the door opening. Let alone any other bathroom shenanigans I want to get into. Examples include but are not limited to face masks, strange creams to remove facial hair, doing my make up in the nude. I work to hard not to be able to pee with the goddamn door open in my own home!
Yesterday I took an Intro to Burlesque class with a friend. Overall an empowering, body positive experience.
The group was comprised of ladies all ages, shapes and sizes. To get started we went around and said a few words about why we picked this class. The last lady said she wanted to feel less silly in the bedroom. As someone who has always wanted to own lingerie but has never had the balls, or shall I say Brazilian waxed vagina, this resinated. I can’t imagine surprisingly the man in my life by ’ slipping into something more comfortable ’ . Once standing there exposed, stretch marks and cellulite, what than? I’m ravish? I bite the my finger tip? Really Though ! Somehow this going smoothly has never felt like an option in my life.
In class I overheard a older lady mention to a friend that hoped this would ignite a few sparks in the marriage. She followed this up by saying she thought she had a few more good years left in her. The odd part was that I got that, I feel that same way, half this women’s age, unmarried. A large women unassociated with the mentioned exchange, wearing the fucking hottest set of lingerie, pipped in ” Honey, you’re a women. You’ve always got it.”
Hey! I'll be in Portland on July 10th playing a show at Plan B. I have no idea where that is in relation to where you live. Also be playing Eugene and Salem but hopefully our paths will cross soon! Miss you and hope all is well on your end of the mental health treatment world both professional and personal. - Andy
I can’t wait to see your band play..and see you! I hope your able to get a drink. you’re MORE THEN WELCOME to stay with me . I will say I am pretty boring during the week but I’d be happy to have you.
Buns have come back in style…why? Always one to adhere to new tends I thought – what the hell I’ll give it a go. I got of the shower, hair wet, and combed it all out. I stared to put it up. Bumps.Everywhere. So I got a smaller comb and started this agonizing process again to little avail. My arms started to hurt, ach even. I could just not get it up.
It was then I remembered sitting down with you as you worked tirelessly to get my hair into those ponytails. An arsenal of products; comb, detangler, spray water bottle. But most of your expertise and patients. Thank you for always taking care of me. I love you mom.
Andrew and I went to Disneyland earlier this year.I can vividly remember waiting for space moutain. My legs and back were killing me and as we encroached on an hour and a half waiting I remeber cursing myself for insisting we come. As soon as I sat in that space ship and started zipping around, all was forgiven. I would’ve waited all over again. Portland summer is a lot like that for me. It is so magical…so perfect, I forget how hard the wait it. My bones ache for the change.
It’s supposed to get up to 70 this weekend, lets all cross our fingers.
Today I said something snotty to a employee. Which is unlike me! I pride myself on being polite.
This was after I was in traffic for an hour and a half trying to get to my sewing class on time.
This was also after a shitty day of work.
Which was also after a series of shitty days (months) at work.
I feel really burnt out. I want to get home and do things to help me feel better but I’m so tired and upset. I spend about 8 + hours a week in traffic a week. The thought of sitting in grid lock while the summer passes me by brings tears to my eyes.
I am nervous because it’s our place. The days of my place are behind me.
I am also nervous because it’s in a new neighborhood. A new and exciting neighborhood. Not the beautiful neighborhood I have inhabited for some time now.
Currently I walk out of my front door and spill out into a bustling street. Most all of my hearts desires can be satisfied within a few walkable blocks. Even when I’m in a poor mood I can’t help but smile when I walk down my beautiful street. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said to myself ” oh stop, it isn’t really that bad ” as I take in my surroundings.
Lastly and perhaps most important I such at change. I am a creature of habit.
Much like a failed relationship, now that the move is so close I’m having trouble remembering the bad stuff.
I will not miss the loud drunken cackles. I will not miss the upstairs neighbors who make my life hell. I will not miss searching for parking. I will not miss the street noise, and don’t even get me started about motorcycles.