Freedom of Information
It's been too long.
The problem with writing a blog about your life is that sometimes you have to censor it a bit. This is particularly sad when you could really tell the world's funniest story, but you don't want to burn people. Oh, the woes of being a moral person.
From time to time, I think of taking a page out of the Mormon Bachelor Pad's book (love those guys, exposed and identified just as much as when they were nice, anonymous and irreverent), and just telling all the REALLY juicy stuff as if it didn't happen to me. But then I figure, why let anyone else get the credit?! If I have to live through the embarrassment, endure the nerve and the cluelessness of others, or just put up with one brand of brouhaha or another, don't I have the right to write about it? Good question. And I guess the answer really depends on whether you read me because you a) know me, b) want to know me, or c) are totally bored and willing to read just about anything.
So let's see how this goes. Yes, it's heavily edited. But that doesn't mean I can't throw you a juicy bone every once in a while.
Life has been taking its normal twists and turns. If you'd asked me a week ago, I would have thought to have been in Texas, suffering from major buyer's remorse post-Round Top (= THE antique market to go to), but I felt a wave of fiscal responsibility and couldn't bring myself to go.
My week started off in the crapper relationship-wise, and I guess I'm still smarting a bit, but I'm buoyed up by the fact it's fall, and I feel at my best in autumn. I love the colors, I love the chill in the air. I love that people don't look at me like a freak in my layered clothes, and that I'll soon be wearing legwarmers with my flip-flops (I hate shoes, I'm just gonna say it). I love going to the cabin and tromping through leaves on my way to the falls, and I love decorating for Halloween. I don't need a single thing, but Target, that master temptress, foils me every time. I bought Halloween marshmallows today. I don't know that they'll even get eaten, but they're in my car, waiting.
Tomorrow the one true love of my life (not really) will get married. To someone else. I'm very happy for him. I don't feel anything but hope and excitement for my dear friend. I only wish I could be there to "give him away." My heart gave him away a long time ago, but I'm so happy to have had so many years with him on a pedestal, helping me to aim higher.
In the mean time, I got a nice lecture from a boy I really don't ever want to go out with again. The other day, there was a lot of awkward confusion (otherwise known as gossip-fueled speculation) about my real love-life, and in an effort to be diplomatic, I told Suitor #3 that I was taking a break from dating.
Oh wait. This is supposed to be about someone else.
So scratch that. My friend, Raquel, had a weird guy send her the following message when she tried to let him know she wasn't interested:
"[Raquel], I don't know about you but I hate being alone and look forward to having a wife and family. The last thing people our age need is to take a break from dating. If u don't want to date a particular person, that's fine, but don't punish yourself by not dating at all, even just for a little while. Do not neglect your responsibilities to your fellow man and your God."
In case you were wondering, Raquel thinks this guy is a major tool. She's also heard him use the N-word, so that killed it long before his dating lecture. Poor Raquel. But I hear she's interested in another guy, who is likely also not going to turn out to be her FH/EC (Future Husband/Eternal Companion) but it's giving her something to be happy about. Tune in for the future adventures of Raquel, as well as my own humble observations.