Growing Up - My Way

OK, I'll admit it. Yours truly was the typical girlie-girl child. I played with barbies, wore hot pink skirts, and yes, even planned my own dream wedding, complete with invitations and a program with mine and Jonathan Brandis' initials on the front. I thought that marriage was something everyone did, it was "the right thing to do" when you grew up. My mother once told me that I had made a comment to her when I was five years old that you HAD to be married before you had any babies.

My oh my, how things have changed.

Over the weekend, I ran into a girl that I used to go to high school with. I wouldnt call her my freind, but in a school as small as mine was, we had definetely made conversation with each other on more then one occasion. We exchanged the usual polite small talk, asking how each other were and what was new. She told me that she had gotten married a year ago and of course I said "Congratulations!" with a huge, fake smile plastered on my face. This is something you have to do. Girls think weddings are a big deal. I should know, I used to be one of them.

From that point on the whole conversation was about marriage. Who she knew from high school and who they married and if she was in their weddings and who was in hers. I, being the fabulously single woman that I am, could only smile and nod while saying the occasional "Oh really?". Then she said it. I knew it was coming, but I brace myself for it everytime. "So how about you, are you married?" followed with "Is anyone from high school that you know married?" I never knew that marriage was a competition. After that question it seemed that my whole life was overlooked. Not once was I asked how my career was going, and the fact that I was a homeowner went completely unnoticed. The only thing that mattered was if I, or anyone else we knew, had pledged the rest of our lives to someone. At first I was appauled, but soon realized that I once had those very same dreams, and that was OK.

Its not that I dont want to get married, Im actually looking forward to it. But after a bad college break-up, I was able to open up my eyes for the first time. I took off the hot pink skirt, put on my a three piece suit and took a step out into the real world. It was then that I realized my whole dating life had been about someone else, and it scared the shit out of me. I didnt need someone to take care of me, to be there for me, and most importantly I didnt need to be somebody's somebody. It was now time for me to worry about myself, my career, and my social life.

I ended my senior year of college with less than stellar grades, but it was the happiest I had been in years. I wasnt working to impress anyone. I stayed out until 4 am with my sorority sisters, had drinks with my girlfriends after classes (sometimes even before) and had my occasional fling here and there. I never felt so free before, and I didnt want to ever give that up again.

However, things never go according to plan.

I met my current boyfriend the summer when I thought I was going to swear off relationships forever. Something about this guy told me he couldnt be passed up. Thank godness for intuition, it has never been more correct than it was at that moment. It was him that made me realize that I didnt have to change myself to be a part of him. We have actually grown with each other instead of growning apart, and there have been many relationship tests placed before us, and each we have passed with flying colors.

I have watched myself grow within the past two years and have discovered large parts of me that I never knew were there, each more incredible than the last. Even though I cannot wait to walk down that aisle (in a Vera Wang gown no less), I cant help but wonder if there are more parts that are still yet to be found, and I wonder if all of these other "happily married" girls still possess these parts that will always remain undiscovered and untouched.

For this reason I consider myself lucky. Women at work are jealous of my $90 shoes that I can spend so selfishly on myself. My married friends are green with envy because when I stay out until 4 in the morning, it goes unnoticed. Just when I thought I had nothing I found out that I had it all. And becauseof this little bit of extra time that I have selfishly spent on myself, I have a fabulous career, friends, family, and partner.......and when i decide to stroll down that aisle, i know I will have a one helluva fabulous marriage too.

Ex In The City

OK, so this city has officially gotten too small for me. So its Friday afternoon, I had just gotten off work and Im walking down Smithfield with an extra bounce in my step because I know that now I can officially sleep in for two whole days (woo hoo!) - then it hits me - like a punch in the face. One of THE WORST things that can happen to a girl, can instantly break her from her upbeat, gitty mood and defintely sweep the bounce right out from under her step so she practically trips over it. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I had an ex sighting.

There he was, standing right in front of me on the corner of Oliver and Smithfield. Oh shit. Now mind you, most of my past relationships have ended well. I still keep in contact with most of my ex boyfriends (on a very limited basis of course), but this guy was different. He was from a different phase of my life - the post-college relationship phase were I went out on so many horrible dates I had given up on the male species altogether (more stories on this yet to come). I had to let this guy go not because of his own merit, but because of his friend's. His friend had the most horrifying laugh that I have ever heard. This consternating cackle caused a whole movie theatre of people to stare (out of pure terror I'm sure) at us. It takes alot to get me embarassed, but he managed to do it.....for a whole 2 hours. And folks, this wasnt even a legitimate laugh, this freak was laughing at things that werent even remotely funny. So I decided not to chance it. If this guy had a freak like this as a friend, surely he wasnt a far drive from freakville himself. I never called him again, and now Mr. Horrible Date #3 was standing right in front of me.

I had two choices: Choice #1 - Act my age. Say, "Hello Mr. Horrible Date #3, how are you? How have you been? Seen any good movies lately? (with your freind and his uncontrolable laughter)?" and watch this turn into a horribly awkward conversation where we were both acting so fake towards each other that it could start to make my Gucci knock-off look legite OR Choice #2 - Run.

Readers, I chose Choice #2. I couldnt risk it. I couldnt risk him asking me about my present dating life, couldnt risk him asking me why I never called, and COULD NOT risk him (Gasp!) asking me out on another date. All Mr. Horrible Date #3 saw that Friday afternoon was an "Oh Shit" look plastered on my face and the dust I left behind me after taking off down Smithfield Street. Well OK I didnt actually run, even though it was my true intention. In a final effort to save some face after deciding on Choice #2, i decided that I could not break out into an all out sprint throughout downtown Pittsburgh. If I started to run, he would think that I was the freak, thus defeating my purpose for labeling him in the first place. I may have opted not to run, but I dont think I've ever walked so briskly in my life. I had saved myself from aquiring a one way ticket to freakville, surely paying off my credit card bill couldn't be that far away.

Now Let's Start at the Very Beginning......

There comes a time in every woman's life when she realizes that however much she loves her parents, she is not able to live with them anymore. That time came for me about a year and a half ago. I graduted from college and moved back home. Ahh it was so good to be home!!....for about the first month. After that the "where are you going", "who are you going out with", "what time will you be home", and the ever popular "I just cant SLEEP until your home safe at night" comments came at me full force. I was stuck. In a mild attempt to salvage a "career" after college (since I graduted with a "would you like fries with that" degree courtesy of the liberal arts college) I bucked up, went back to school, and agreed to be at my parents mercy for 9 months.

I figured that nine months wouldnt be so bad, women go through grueling and tortoreous pregnancies for that long, surely this would be a breeze - right? Wrong. At month #3 I knew I had to get out. But what was I going to do for rent money? (not to mention shoe money) My Panera Bread part-time paycheck couldnt even feed my shopping hunger that I felt had to be satisfied AT LEAST once a week! At month #4, sadly, I realized I had to grin and bear it.

*Disclaimer* Dont get me wrong now, I absolutely LOVE my parents to death and dont know where or who I would be today without them. They have been my rock throughout the past 24 years of my life and I would do ANYTHING for them....except live with them for another year (hehe).

In month #8 my grandfather died. It tore me apart inside, but however hard this ripped at my heart, it was so hard for me to be THAT sad. My grandmother passed away 3 years before him, and you could tell that it was hard for him to go on without her. To me, I was happy with the thought that they would be reunited again and pictured both of them in heaven taking thier daily walks together like they used to do before they got ill. Long before either of their passings, my Ma and Pap had told both my parents and I that they wanted me to have their house when they were gone. (If you knew the history of me and my grandparents this would come as no surprise to you. I am the only child of an only child which made me an only grandchild. If you dont know me, you will at least have an understanding of why I act the way I do (haha)). Both of them did everything for me in life, and now they were doing the same in death. They not only gave me a place to live, but somewhere I could already call home. At last, I was going to move out!!

I wasted no time and after about 16 resumes, a couple of "thanks but no thanks letters", (or as I call them the "we hate your face rejection letters") and 8 phone calls left unreturned, I got my first and only interview. When the day came I put ON my best suit, tookOFF the makeup, and draped myself with a much needed positive attitude. I was going to get this job....hell i HAD to get this job....it was the only way to freedom - my only chance!

After two interviews I landed myself the worst paying and shittiest job I've ever had. But hey, I didnt know that at the time!!! The paycheck was MUCH more than my $6.50/hour check I was used to...this was great - I can get my own apartment now!!!! The next month I found myself a prospective roomate and started budgeting.....hmm not much left after I finished paying all of my bills....but oh well! Now I will be independent! This cant be so bad.

OK it was bad. After my parents had so graciously paid off my outstanding credit card debt as a good parting present, the debt had gone back up to what it was...plus some (OK alot - shit). It was then that I realized how much of a shitty paycheck I was getting. I was not about to go to my parents (who had already paid for a new refrigerator, new kitchen, and new carpet for me..ooops) so what do the finincially insecure do in this situation? Save you say? NO! They go and make more money!!!

Which brings me to where I am now. After THREE interviews I landed a job at a big firm like I always wanted, complete with a human resources department and a fat paycheck. Hopefully now I can stop sponging off my parents, pay off my debts, fix everything I have F'ED up in the past year and finally declare my independence....but I'm not counting on it just yet.