Maybe I am just jealous. A certain no named dreamboat of mine just left for New York. He came back to me, then left, but you know, as odd as it is, I don't feel bad about it. I think it has come with growing older. Some people may kill me for using the phrase "I am just getting older", but it's not a lie, people. I am, and yes, that means you are too. I'm not getting younger though, so maybe it will be important for me to soak up all of the single, young and free time I can by saving up all of my nuggets and taking an "Eat, Pray, Love" adventure.
Adventure in the next sixth months would be impossible. Although if it could happen now, I would click my heels, snap my fingers, and be in Barcelona.
This week (more starting next week) I have entered into the world of missing important events, not speaking with people for months, and no sleep. Yeah, I get a sort of fancy new title, but I never thought I would have to utter these silly little words: I have to cancel my birthday. But it's true. I had planned a Vegas trip with my childhood BFF, but had to cancel.
The cancellation was like a break up. If anyone knows me well, once I commit to something, I am there, 100%, no questions asked. Canceling is one of the many things in life I have never been successful at, possibly because I do not do it often. I just hate the feeling of disappointing people. The worst part is that I know people who cancel and flake ALL THE TIME, and I know how I feel about them, so in turn, I would hate for someone to feel that way about me, especially someone who has been like a sister for years. The voicemail, if I remember correctly, went something like this:
Hey, it's Elaine. I have good and bad news. Bad news is I have to cancel Vegas, please don't kill me. Good news is I have a fancy title and a new job. Please. don't be mad, ok? Just call me back to let me know that you aren't mad. So, so sorry. I promise we will do something after my craziness in January. Please don't be mad. Just call me back, talk to you soon!
Talk about a train wreck. This is someone I have been playing phone tag with for about a week, and I figured well, might as well just rip the band aid and let it out. Also, adding misery to guilt, it sounded like I was crying because I have had a frog in my throat for the past few days. So it will probably also sound like I was tearing up and just wanted sympathy, great. AWESOME.
Didn't cancel my LA celebration. THAT is still happening. I refuse to let anything get in the way of any sort of celebration of my precious life because I am not only important, I am one of the most narcissistic people I know. Ahem, only on my birthday, though. After that you have my permission to treat me like a regular person who is just waiting for everyone to figure out that she does not know what the fuck she is doing. I had a conversation with a co-worker yesterday. It was more of a cry sesh as this co- worker is one of my favorite people/good friends and since I don't have a big sister, she has (pretty vocally, I might add) assumed that position. Anyway, while I was whaling about how I thought I might be in over my head and I have no fucking clue what I am doing, she reminded me that no one really ever knows exactly what they are doing. They just jump in and hope for the best. I'm taking a leap to a stone path, running on a bridge over a creek that is 10,000 feet beneath me, running to a swinging rope over a mile long waterfall and hanging onto the rope for dear life, hoping it doesn't break. The cool/sad thing is that I can totally imagine myself doing all of those things.
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