On my mind...

I just had someone who I used to be reasonably good friends with but whom I haven't seen in almost 2 years AND who is an ass who actually told me he included me on the list for his wedding so that I can get him a good gift say "So, you've been married for 5 years. When are you having kids?"

Keep in mind that this was not in a conversation ABOUT kids. This was not me gushing about my niece (which I often do) and him saying "hmmm must be the biological clock" (which it's not -- she's just awesome). This was in a conversation about how he is an ass and is whipped by his soon to be wife. So, please tell me, where the hell does he get off?????

I remember an old blog of tangentwoman's about the stupidity of people and how they think they have some right to ask these kinds of questions just because you've been married a while, as if you must automatically want kids and be crying yourself to sleep at night because you don't have them now. I really am going to start using the whimpering, "Actually, we just found out that we can't have children" thing and then going into the weeping thing. It's mean, but it serves people right.

So, it's day 4. Of the post weekend pout, for those of you who are new.

We've hit the point where my brain stops being able to stop. Does this happen to anyone else? My brain has been going nonstop since first thing Sunday when Jenn asked, "So, how are you doing?" (and by first thing, I do NOT mean at 3:15 in the diner with the french toast. My brain was happily swimming at that point). Now, I am not capable of actually accomplishing anything other than hearing my own thoughts.

I do have any important job, at least in the scheme of the institution for which I work. I am one of those people who often gets referred to as "someone at your level" -- meaning that I shouldn't have to do some of the things I do just because no one else does. So, I shouldn't really be able to just ignore work and listen to my brain think and process.

And yet, I have. I have done virtually NOTHING for 2 days and it doesn't seem to have mattered. Doesn't THAT really put life and the "importance" of my contribution into perspective!?!?!?

Well, we're on day 3 of the post weekend pout. The world is irritating me for no good reason. My bright spot yesterday was a silly list of jokes from a friend who I asked to entertain me. While I love him for sending it to me, it seems like the bright spot in my day should be more than an email.

Part of me really wants to run away and join the circus. Or at least go back to some simpler happier time that didn't really exist at the time but does now in my memory. Jenn's moving into her new house some time next year. Maybe I'll force her to take me in as a roommate and relive our college years until one of us has another Goldschlager/Smirnoff incident and we realize we can't live it up like we used to.

I woke up in a cranky mood this morning. Not quite sure why, but it happens every time I go out of town and come back. After having fun out and seeing the girls, and just generally having a good time, I always end up sad, as if coming back to my "real" life just isn't what it's cracked up to be.

I used to go away for the weekend and come back happy to be home. I have always loved spending time with my friends, but I used to love to be home again, as if there was something better to come home to. Now, I feel sad and depressed and just want to go back to the beach.

Jenn and I had a conversation yesterday about my "true" self and I told her how I very rarely feel like my true self is the one I'm showing when I'm in my day to day life. My true self is "Jenn's Kare," also known as my vacation self, or drunk Karen. Keep in mind on that last comment that I don't actually have to be drunk for this true self to be present, though it doesn't hurt.

I'm feeling right now like my true self is buried somewhere under obligation and mortgage payments and misery. No, I'm not clinically depressed or anything like that; just sad that after almost a year since the "big move" things aren't feeling like they're any better. I've gotten better most days at not being the super b**ch that I was being about how much I hated NJ, but that's mostly just cover, not genuine acceptance. I'm happier now that we're in the house, but that's mostly because the apartment was a hell hole and now I have my own space, not because the situation is better.

Okay, I"m done complaining. Off to put on the happy face and go back to work.

So, it's been a while, both since I've written at all, and since one of these lists got posted.

For those of you who are new, my dorky friends (and, yes, I mean "dorky" as a compliment) and I used to write these in college when we were having a particularly bad day -- anything from boys breaking our hearts to bad hangovers -- to make ourselves have a little perspective and sometimes a little bit of a giggle. Since then, I write them every once in a while as an update from a weekend away or when something needs to be said but some code is helpful. So, for both of those reasons, happy reading...

1. For the first time EVER, being the one who had to be dragged away from the bar after it closed.
2. Getting introduced to the new keyboards. :)
3. Surviving another fagers injury -- just got hit by a meal tray this time instead of a car. Of course, this one was also my fault.
4. That the band almost always plays what I ask for, and that I know the person who called me a bitch for asking for multiple songs was kidding.
5. Making decisions about my song request for Atlantic City, because I had a song I didn't ask for on Saturday night, despite being asked to ask for it :)
6. The off duty bouncer, who made Saturday night a better night for Jenn than Friday night was.
7. Coach's diner, which opens back up from midnight to 4am... Mmmmmmm drunk french toast....
8. Finding out that taking alleve at 630 am keeps away the evil hangover... MUST make sure to have more of that...
9. Being told that a month away from the boys in the band is too long...
and finally,
10. A cute boy who told me I'm beautiful and that he'd rather spend time with me than with drunk, dumb blondes. And me being drunk enough to believe him.