It is unpleasant if your ears don’t pop on the way down in the airplane. It hurts. A lot. And it makes it very hard to hear. And then, when you hit the ground, if you can make them pop, say by yawning or just waiting it out, it will feel like painful gurgling.
I am so glad to be home and glad to have gone and glad to have had a good time.
The Butcher presented me with an Ipod when I got home. I’m not sure what I’ll do with it, but I can’t wait to do whatever it is.
My mom just called to tell me she’d been thinking about me. She wondered what I did at the wedding since I was there by myself and didn’t really know anyone and she also wanted to tell me that the best thing I can probably do in my current situation is to just change my attitude.
Oh, Mom. I know you mean well, but dang. First, I don’t think that just sucking it up and changing my attitude is actually a viable strategy to get through life. I think that’s the kind of thing that would have me becoming suicidal. And I wonder, how do we know which people are supposed to bend and accommodate and compromise and continually change their attitudes and which people get to decide to actually do things. And how is it that my parents ended up being so passive?
Still, as mad as it makes me, I’m also kind of tickled to find that my mom is mulling things over. I just wish she were mulling them over in a way that allowed for me to make some waves.
As for the other thing, I didn’t know how to answer her. I’m not lonely. I didn’t sit at the wedding thinking, “Gosh, everyone here is with someone and I am alone. Lord, how my life sucks!” I was busy being in the wedding and dancing with the folks who were dancing and talking with the folks who weren’t. I don’t feel like something’s missing. I get on with my life.
What other choice is there?
I don’t want to be an old maid. I don’t want to sit around being bitter that no man ever chose me. I don’t want to be the woman hiding in the house with my eight cats pissed that my life didn’t work out how I wanted it to. I don’t want to be desperate until my desperation turns to bitterness.
I’d rather just enjoy myself and have a good time and not worry about it. In this case, I do think it’s a great deal about one’s attitude. So, bless my mom’s heart, I think she’s got it backwards. She wants to fret about things that don’t bother me and for me to learn to accept the things that do.
I’ve got a little thing of tissue and a box full of non-drowsy cold medicine. For those of you playing along at home, you’ll remember that non-drowsy cold medicine tends to put me to sleep. I’m taking it now and hoping that I won’t miss my flight in two hours. I got here this early so that I could take my cold medicine, since the whole uncontrollably falling asleep thing tends to not be a safe way to drive.
I had lunch at a nice little McDonald’s off Irving Park road, I think and it was kind of funny to me in that here I am in this city where a bunch of my family has grown up and a bunch of my dear friends still live and I’m just as homesick as can be for Nashville.
I miss the Butcher and I about can’t even stand to think about my dog. I want to sleep in my own bed and pee in my own toilet. And bring on the humidity. You would not believe how dry it is here.
Still, I had a wonderful time seeing folks. So I can’t complain. In fact, I’m feeling strangely good. I wonder if the cold medicine is kicking in. I wonder if the dude next to me wants to rub my head while I nap. Wouldn’t that be nice?
So, the wedding was beautiful. The Super Genius’s dress was fabulous. The place we got our hair done had us all looking amazing. Our dresses looked good on each of us.
I don’t know. I’m so bad at this kind of crap. I wasn’t really struck by the wedding itself. That was like one million other weddings. I was struck by how happy and calm the Super Genius was, as if she was as certain as could be that she was doing the right thing. I was struck by how fucking awesome her sister is, which I think every time I meet her, but I never think to say. I loved the Mathlete’s siblings. They seem very thoughtful and caring and boatloads of fun. And I was thinking that, you know, I spent fourteen hours with them yesterday and I enjoyed ever second of it.
Plus, I had my eye on the Mathlete–you know, just in case I saw evidence that I needed to break out the Viking toast–and I am delighted. He looks at the Super Genius with this open, accepting, happy gaze. It tickles me.
Not to mention, I got to see the Super Genius’s mom–a minister, I might add–dancing around and smacking her ass to Sir Mix-a-lot’s “I like Big Butts.” Awesome.
And, god damn, there were Tiny Cat Pants readers at the wedding! And, as might be expected, I liked the shit out of them.
So, there you go.
It was a good day. I didn’t even have to use my AK.
Ha, I tickle me.
Tiny Cat Pants 