Buddy sparks

I bought a book while I was in Washington D.C. last week called Chase the Fun — 100 Days to Discover Fun Right Where You Are.

No one has ever accused me of not chasing fun, especially over the past year of my life. There’s a chapter in the book on making new friends as an adult, something that is pretty hard to do. 

From the book: “It’s really fun to make a new friend. To meet someone for the first time and feel those buddy sparks, the ones that tell you this person is someone you could REALLY hang with. YES TO NEW FRIENDSHIPS.”

This blog post is about those buddy sparks. 

I was reading this book at the Chicago airport the other day, got to thinking, and then put the book down and started writing.

Here’s what I came up with.

This is a story about those sparks, and it started last year when some short introverted Kansas girl flew across the country for a concert.

What concert, you might ask?

If you even need to ask, then you don’t know me very well. 

Also, the prequel is right here. Let’s consider this story the sequel. 

--

There are a handful of moments in my life that I will remember forever. These moments are so beautiful, so full of life, light, love and laughter that they stick out to me. 

I went to a wedding last weekend more than 1,200 miles away from Kansas. Late into the night, and just a few drinks in, the groom put him arm around me and told me that he was expecting a blog post about this.

He told me it needed to be even better than the first blog post. He told me what I should include, most of which I can’t publish. All of it I can’t publish, actually.

It was a perfect moment for me to reflect how weird life is and just how beautiful it can be.

I am a huge fan of music, and one singer in particular. At a concert last year, I met a cool group of people who invited me to hang with them the second night. I maybe had a few adult beverages, turned into my drunk alter ego (her name is Tiffany), and then mentioned to the wonderful engaged couple that I wanted to be invited to their wedding.

My memories of that night are fuzzy, but I remember pitching the idea to them. I remember they both agreed to it.

That wedding happened a few days ago, and I was there. Tiffany was there, too.

I know that sounds crazy, trust me. It is kind of insane.

But the thing is, words mean a lot to me. They are how I make a living and they are the thing that I love most in life.

I made a drunk promise at an Eric Church concert to that engaged couple beside me that I would be at their wedding. If I have no other positive attributes in life, I have these — I always mean what I say and I always keep my promises.

This is a story of a wedding, planes, trains and automobiles, one really cool big city, and how my soul is maybe filled with too much wanderlust. 

--

I could talk about the beautiful bride, one of the most beautiful brides I’ve ever seen, and the look on the groom’s face when he saw her walk down the aisle.

I could talk about their wonderful family and friends who introduced themselves to me with open and inviting arms.

I could talk about requesting the song Springsteen from the DJ at the reception, because I really, really wanted to make a memory with them to the line ‘It’s funny how a melody sounds like a memory’ so bad.

My memory from that moment is pretty fuzzy, but I’m sure it was a special moment that we all shared.

Maybe. I don’t remember.

I remember looking at the two of them when they were dancing, when they were coming up to me trying to find each other in the crowd (My response: “She’s wearing white.”) and I remember the way they danced and held each other while the Eric Church song Like Jesus Does was playing.

All the crazy in my dreams

And both my broken wings

Every single piece of everything I am

And she knows the man I ain’t

She forgives me when I can’t

The devil, man, he don’t stand a chance

‘Cause she loves me like Jesus does

I remember thinking that these two beautiful people with beautiful souls just made me believe in love and happily ever afters again. 

--

I took a screenshot of the background on my phone the night the Maryland couple got married. I remember looking at my phone and thinking...you know, EC, this is all your fault. 😆

--

If you are a cumulation of everyone you meet and everyone you surround yourself with, then these two wonderful Maryland souls are literally the best of the best and come from the best of the best.

This is just the best of humanity.

The night of that concert was mentioned in the maid of honor’s speech, as was the shenanigans and tomfoolery that was born that night. Also, the maid of honor mentioned that there was this girl named Monica at that concert and that she was from Kansas, and that she is here tonight at the wedding!

Comments I remember people making at the wedding to me:

“You’re the sparkly shoes girl?”

“Why do I recognize you? Are you the concert girl?”

“I don’t remember your name, so I’m just going to call you Eric Church.”

That comment did me in. I grabbed a beer, laughed my ass off, and headed to the dance floor.

Because why not?

--

When I got back from that concert back in December, I thought that the people I met were great, but I wasn’t expecting them to keep in touch with me. 

And then they asked for my address and then sent me a save the date.

I never thought it would happen. In the middle of that concert night when drinks were flowing, hugs were aplenty and we were drunkingly singing at the top of our lungs, all I remember is being so damn happy and thinking that the people I just met were so cool.

I’m sure they weren’t expecting some short introverted Kansas girl with a drunk alter ego and a blog at their wedding eight months later.

I mean, who really expects that? 

But life is life and sometimes you have a keep a drunk promise.

--

Their wedding was a perfect day and night filled with newfound friends, love, family, friendship, drinking, singing and dancing.

We gathered again.

At the concert, we talked about where we could meet up for shows in the future. At the wedding, I mentioned to the groom that I like traveling and have little to no impulse control when it comes to music.

He looked at me like I had three heads. 

He said: “I know that about you. Everyone in this room knows that about you.”

He continued: “We’re going meet in some random city for a show. How about Tallahassee?”

I’m down, I said.

Groom: “I know. Everyone here knows."

It was a perfect moment for a perfect night.

--

Back in December, I told my parents that I drank rum at that concert and that Tiffany made an appearance on the East Coast. I told them about the people that I met who invited me to pre-game with them at the bar across the street from the venue.

(If there’s a bar, I’m in. No questions asked. I’m in.)

With that look in his eye, that disapproving Dad look, and with a slight eye roll, my Dad said something like: “Let me guess. The people you met that night, you hugged them and told them you loved them, didn’t you?”

Perhaps.

Tiffany is a force to be reckoned with. 

I would like to think that fate led me to meet these people. I switched spots with the family beside me with little kids at that Eric Church concert, because I thought the little kids needed to be closer to the stage.

By doing that, I met this wonderful group of people. My Maryland people.

I would like to think I met them though being a good person and giving little kids my spot, through fate, through God, or whatever entity you believe in. Divine intervention, maybe.

I met these people and ended up at their wedding because of rum.

No good story starts with a salad and water. Good stories and blog posts start with alcohol and live music and drunk introverts with alter egos (the groom has one, too, the only other introvert I've met with the same infliction as me).

--

As I was leaving the reception that night, someone shouted as I was walking out the door.

“When’s the party coming to Kansas?”

Any time, guys. You are welcome whenever you want. I might add that the concerts Eric Church puts on in Kansas City are some of the best of the best. We can stumble into the Power and Light bars afterward, if we’re still able to stand upright after the show, and we could have ourselves a great time.

Also, I’m pretty sure we’ll have a great time wherever we go. Kansas City, D.C., Tallahassee, Nashville, North Carolina or Alaska, or in whatever random ass city we end up gathering at again.

It will be fantastic. 

Like I told them on Saturday night: “I can’t wait to make more memories with you that we won’t remember.”

--

Congratulations to the bride and groom. It was amazing to celebrate your love with you. 

--

Kansas.

Other top 10 lists

To follow up on my blog post where I named my top 10 favorite songs of all time, I'm going to tell you about some other people's top 10 lists.

My Dad, my brother and my friend Alba responded to my request to name their top 10 songs. I'm not going to name my brother's, mainly because he didn't number them from 1-10 and it was basically every Eminem song/album ever created.

 

So we're going to start with my friend Alba first. 

Her top 10 list:

Against Me! - The Ocean or Pints of Guinness Make You Strong

A Giant Dog - Survive

Rancid - Radio

Bad Religion - No Control

Queen - Don’t Stop Me Now

Coheed and Cambria - Delirium Trigger (or any song off Second Stage Turbine Blade)

Thursday - Steps Ascend (or really ANY song from Full Collapse or War All The Time)

Hudson Falcons - Jersey City Streets or Revolution

Thrice - Artist in the Ambulance (both the song and the album)

The Strokes - You Only Live Once

And now my Dad (look at that country song on there!): 

 

Georgia Rhythm - Atlanta Rhythm Section

Big Love - Lindsay Buckingham

I Love To Change The World - Ten Years After

Mississippi Queen - Mountain

Sounds Of Silence - Disturbed

Heard It In A Love Song - Marshall Tucker Band

Saint Of Me - Rolling Stones

It  Ain’t My Fault - Brothers Osborne

Mostly Stoned - Tim Montana

Violent Shiver - Benjamin Booker

 

Honorable mention to the people who responded to my request for their best angry/pissed off song. My pissed off song is Misery by Soul Asylum. My brother's is Leave Me Alone by Hospin and my bff's is I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace.

 

:)

A miracle, they are.

Picture three adults, sitting around a fireplace in a beautiful house.

Two of these people work to pay for that beautiful house. The other is just a warm, cozy houseguest who is sitting nearest to the fire and too lazy to get up, go outside in the cold and leave.

I'm that houseguest.

We were talking about small children, the joys of them, how they are a blessing from above in all of their pooping, barfing glory.

Kids are a miracle, I said. (I also did not help clean up the vomit from one of those miracles that had covered the floor about an hour earlier.)

Then we started talking about being outnumbered by children.

Me, single and childless, with a beer sitting by a fire: "I never understood why people put their kids on leashes. Then my brother had kids. Now I know why people put their kids on leashes."

---

I ran into another friend about a week ago, and something she said hit pretty close to home.

After getting out of a bad relationship, she said, she spends every day thankful to be single.

I understand, friend.

That hit me right in the feels.

This is a nightmare.

A couple of weeks ago, my phone rang.

On the other end was best friend, wanting to know if I'd watch her kids so her and her husband could have a date night for our town's annual celebration.

Of course, I said.

She has two kids that are adorable. Her 3-year-old daughter, A, is the same age as one of my nieces, and I get a huge kick out of hanging out with her.

Once her Mommy and Daddy left, we started talking about best friends. Little A told me about her best friend in school. Then I explained to her that her Mommy and I have known each other since we were little girls.

Little A was interested in that conversation.

"Do you love my Mommy?"

Well of course I do, I told her. I've known your Mommy for a really long time. We grew up together and played together when we were little.

"Do you love my Daddy?"

I wasn't expecting this question, so I tried to play it off as cool as I possibly could. Of course I love your Daddy. He makes your Mommy really happy.

Little A would not let go of this conversation.

"You love my Daddy?"

Well, little girl, yes. He takes care of your Mommy, you and your little brother.

"How much do you love my Daddy?"

She asked various forms of this question to me about 82 times that night. This warranted an immediate text message to her Mommy, warning her that my love for her husband might be taken out of context from a 3-year-old.

In my head, I'm sitting there thinking to myself that this adorable little girl is going to go to school on Monday and tell everyone that a woman came over to her house, without her Mommy there, and told her how much she loved her Daddy.

This is a nightmare.

And then A's little brother started to fuss in his crib. I turned on the baby monitor, only to discover a child with arms and legs, but no head showing on the screen.

I turned on the flashlight app on my phone and peeked in his room, and my only goal was to make sure the child still had a head.

I wish I was kidding.

The baby gave me a weird look, I patted him on the back and told him it was okay, then shut the door.

A few days later, my friend told me that her daughter overheard a conversation in their house. Her husband was going out of town for work, and little A had a question for them. She wanted to know if her Daddy was going out of town "with Monica?"

I'm glad I made a lasting impression on her. But secretly I'm just really just happy that both kids have heads.

Eventually.

I wrote this three years ago. It still rings true today.

---

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Stay

I was thinking about this last night.

After my friends get married, a few months after the ceremony and reception, I always ask them how they knew they married the right person.

I'm single and prospecting, as one of my co-workers put it this morning (ha, ha). I ask my friends that question because I don't know the answer.

My oldest and best friend had my favorite answer. I remember that conversation like it happened yesterday.

We were sitting in a garage last summer, playing with dogs. I was talking about my personal life - which doesn't happen very often - and I remember specifically what she said to me on how she knew she picked the right person to marry.

"He stayed."

It's a simple answer.

All you have to do is find someone who will stay? I always thought there was some unknown magic trick to love (or something like that...).

It turns out that nope, there's no magic trick or formula.

All they have to do is stay.

Last summer, I thought that answer was bullshit. There has to be some way to know, I thought. 

I get it now. Staying is important.

One of the consequences and side effects of being human is finding a person who won't stay.

When I look at my married friends, how happy they are and how their spouses blend seamlessly into our group of friends, I have a little glimmer of hope.

Eventually, someone will stay.

Eventually.

Cerveza

I don't remember the conversation exactly, but it went something like this:

I went to a Mexican restaurant with my friend and her 2-year-old daughter to eat dinner. Said daughter's name begins with an "A" and the daughter recognized the letter on the table cloth.

Then the 2-year-old recognized the letter "A" all over the table cloth.

My comment: Congratulations, friend. Your kid is going to learn to spell "cerveza" before her name.

Then, the inevitable struggle to get a 2-year-old to eat started. There were threats made that if she didn't eat, she wouldn't get a candy and a ball. (In the end, she got a piece of candy and a ball.) There were negotiations and more threats.

I tried to keep my mouth shut and not laugh at the struggle between Mom and daughter.

Good luck when she's a teenager, Mom and Dad!

We talked about sentences we say to kids that make no sense. Friend's example: Yesterday I told her to not put milk on her foot.

It happens.

At the end of dinner, my friend made two comments.

First, she told her 2-year-old that she just gave Monica a blog post.

Second, she told her 2-year-old to tell Monica thank you for sitting with them and watching them fight over food.

2-year-old: Thank you.
Me: You're welcome. Anytime.

When I got to work this morning, I got a text message. Kid had tacos and rice for lunch, and apparently was not interested in eating the same thing for dinner.

At least she got a ball and a piece of candy out of it.

The giving of thanks

Today I'm thankful for spending time with wonderful families and wonderful friends that became my family over the years.

When the entire state of Kansas does not separate us, the three of us are pretty fun and fierce together.

Most of the quotes and memories of Cards Against Humanity are not safe enough to publish on thishereblogpost, but one quote is.

"You're sad and fat and I have no legs. Let's be friends."

Sometimes you just have to put your head down on the table and giggle your little heart out.

Quotes for fall

While walking with a friend after work one day:

Me: Sometimes I just don't feel like wearing pants.

Friend: That's the quote of the week.

Fyi, I was talking about wearing a skirt. My skirts don't fit me anymore. Ah, bummer.

We ended up okay.

I apologize in advance to anyone reading this. This post is not for the faint of heart.

There, you've been warned.

-----

There's a certain amount of happiness when you surround yourself with people you've known your entire life.

A couple friends and I only get to see each other a few times a year. When we do get together, it's not usually PG and we come up with some amazing quotes by the end of the night.

The night started off by reminiscing. I reminded them of the time they wrote the word of a certain part of the male anatomy on my car with window paint on my 16th birthday. I reminded them that hey, thanks guys, I got grounded for that one.

And I didn't even do it!

And then I reminded them of the time they made fun of me so much that I stopped wearing my favorite pair of jeans. I had this awesome 90s pair of jeans that were bleached. They were the shit.

I loved them.

I wore those jeans to go bowling with the same group of friends one night. Under the black light of the bowling alley, they told me my jeans looked like they had sperm all over them.

In their defense, they were totally right. 

Those pants were known as the sperm jeans from then on. I had to stop wearing them, mainly because I was 16 and I didn't want a sperm jeans reputation.

Thanks, guys, for your unconditional love and support over the years. 

:)

Anyway, we played a pretty amazing game of Cards Against Humanity. (I was not wearing my sperm jeans, and the word 'Penis' was not written on my car. We've grown up! Not really...)

-----

At dinner, we were talking about how glitter is the herpes of the craft world. 

I was on Reddit the other night, and I read a quote that made me laugh. It was something like, "MDF is the herpes of woodworking."

I told my friends that, which prompted the quote: "Every hobby has a herpes."

-----

I left my phone at my house that night, or else you would have been blessed with some amazing pictures of our Cards Against Humanity game.

I don't remember what black card was played, but the white card I had was about a 55-gallon drum of lube. 

I thought, for sure, that I had that round won. But no, my lube card was beat out by a card about ice cream.

Which prompted the quote: "I can't believe ice cream beat lube."

I love these people. 

I hope our kids, the ones that exist and the ones that don't exist yet, find friendships as great and as fun as ours. 

-----

We ended up okay. 

I think.

We did not take a new picture last night, so here's an old picture. 

On pickles and bananas

"I'm sorry about your pickle, but I'm glad you got your bananas."

Sidenote: My bff and I took turns being out of the country. That means I didn't see her (or her husband) for two weeks.

Sure, being out of the country for both of us involved beaches and drinks, but that was a pretty long two weeks.

Plus, who else am I going to talk about pickles and bananas with?

Texting

I was texting today about life with a friend.

The conversation went something like:

'I'm pretty sure adulthood is like swimming through a sea full of shit blindfolded.'

Yes, I love the description that I came up with.

Today was not a fun day, but tomorrow might be better. And if tomorrow is not better, I'll be sitting on a beach drinking rum in about two weeks.

So, there's that. 

That's how you get Ebola.

There are a few things I like about traveling. I love keeping track of interesting quotes people say and I like to people watch, especially in bigger cities.

I spent a wonderful weekend traveling to the other side of the state. I smiled a lot. I laughed a lot. I bought lactose pills so I could eat cheesecake.

I would call that a winning weekend.

Let me tell you about the people watching. I'm of the belief that tights aren't pants, but I gave many mental kudos to the woman who thought glittery tights were pants in Kansas City.

Those tights were cute!

Moving on to the quotes I wrote down on my phone over the weekend:

• That's how you get Ebola.
• Would you put your Ebola baby in an Ebola bag?
• Person 1: I'm the a-hole who Instagrams my food. Me: Um, I already did that. Person 3: Monica's a journalist. She has to be the first one to do everything.
• This is like Costco on crack. (Re: Ikea)
• I just paper cutted myself.
• Can somebody be cheatsydoodles?
• Person 1: Do you wanna be cheatsydoodles? Person 2: I don't think so. Person 3: Guys, did you see this cat?
• Person 1: I don't know what that is. Person 2: It's a barf bag. Person 3: It better not be. I paid $1 for that.
• While walking down the Plaza, seeing a woman wear what appeared to be a flannel shirt and nothing else: "I think she forgot to wear pants." 

And then there's the obligatory "this has to go on your blog" quote.

As always, ask and you shall receive, dudes.

Mountains and mountains of crap at Ikea.

My delicious cheesecake.

Friday night quotes.

First quote - 

"I love you."

"I want to punch you in the face."

"I think our honeymoon is over."

Second quote - 

"I keep saying things that are things."

Third quote - 

"This needs to go on your blog."

Ask and you shall receive.

Context: There were some fierce games of Apples to Apples and another card game last night. Thanks for the fun night and laughs, dudes.

:)

I want to talk about the booze.

There's a certain restaurant in town I like to describe as fancy pants.

The decor is nice. Everyone in town talks about how good it is.

My confession? The first time I ate there, I didn't like it. To be fair, I ate there a few days after I ate what I consider the best food I've ever had (out of state).

I was expecting really, really good food when I went to this restaurant in my hometown the first time around. The bar was set pretty high. I left with a meh feeling.

But hey, I'm willing to forgive, forget about the past and give it another chance.

Last night we ordered pasta, fancy pants pizza and french fries. Looking back, maybe that wasn't the best or healthiest decision, but I'm happy to report that the food is good.

Not spectacular, the best food I've ever had good, but it was pretty good (The next time I go there I need to order like I'm not a hungover college student, though).

But I don't want to talk about the food. I want to talk about the booze.

The margarita I had last night (with blueberry!) was very, very good. It had raspberries on top, which is a plus for me. The more girly my drinks look, the more I like them.

You guys, that margarita was delicious. I'm usually a frozen margarita kind of a girl, but this one on the rocks knocked my socks off.

So what if I squirted lime three feet away from me and flung my bread clear across the table. Who cares, I was too busy enjoying my drink.

I might have also told a friend that I was going to buy the lottery.

The margarita was that good.

I woke up insanely happy this morning. Dammit! That was a good drink.

I'd go back to said restaurant in the future. There's one more chicken dish I want to try. Or I could try something new...which makes me and probably everyone who knows me well laugh.

Or maybe I'll just return for the booze.