Save the date? Part 2

"With the wedding quickly approaching, her save the dates have gone out. But not everyone from her old life received a save the date...in fact, her former friend - the (cool, hip) younger urban dweller who scorns chain restaurants - was left off the list, despite the fact that the two of them spent nearly five years of their lives being each other's go-to single gal pal. And after the snubbed friend discovered she was snubbed, she de-friended her former friend on Facebook and the two never spoke again. The End."

I established the Facebook part was an exaggeration. I thought the story would really end with, "and the two never spoke again." However, the world is a strange, strange place and, ironically, within days of the "Save the date?" blog post the Future Mrs. Old and Flabby contacted her former friend. This is where the story continues:

And then one day, rather unexpectedly, the Future Mrs. Old and Flabby reached out to her former friend via Facebook. In her message, she acted like she was simply picking up where she left the conversation off nearly a year and a half ago. The recipient was surprised. She thought the future Mrs. Old and Flabby had written her off, with no intention of even attempting to communicate again. As she read the message from her former friend, surprise turned to stunned which turned to anger. Basically, the wannabe soccer mom asked her former friend to join a club with her and participate in a recreational sport together for the several months leading up to the wedding. Since the culmination of the sport would take place mere weeks from the wedding, the bride-to-be clearly would only have wedding planning to talk about....with the former friend who is still not invited to the wedding.

The younger friend sent a response, declining the offer, wishing the bride-to-be luck and expressing disappointment for not receiving a save the date.

Several days later, a response arrived. It basically said the wedding is going to be a "small" one. It went on to say save the dates hadn't "even" gone to co-workers yet (so, "Our friendship was the equivalent, to her, of a work friendship?!?," thought the urban-dweller) and reiterated that they're trying to keep the wedding "small." Not even a suggestion that the recipient might make the round two invite cut.

The urban-dweller reflected. "Had we not talked on the phone several times a week? Did we not hang out on average once a week? For over five years?!?! Am I not recalling this correctly?" Realizing she was, indeed, remembering the friendship correctly, or at least the way she perceived it, she simply closed her laptop, took a deep breath and chose not to respond. The official end of a friendship - this is it. At least she got the closure she needed. It's much better than simply never hearing from someone. Clearly, the younger friend thought they were better friends than the older one thought...sad, but certianly not the end of the world. And with that, the younger one thought ahead to the New Year, filled with new possibilities and, hopefully, new (and true) friendships. The End.

My Holiday Letter - 2010 edition

It's that time of year! People have been asking me when I planned to post the 2010 edition of my holiday letter...and since I received only one holiday letter this year (clearly, last year's online holiday letter offended some!), I didn't have the inspiration I needed....until I received a BBM from Wiggy at 7 a.m. yesterday asking what time is "too early" to drink wine because the only beverage in her home that sounded appealing (at 7 a.m. if I failed to mention this) was Moscato. In Wiggy's world, it's always time for wine and wine does help the ink flow out of the pen (or in this case, the fingers hit the keys)...so here goes:

Dear Family and Friends,

Merry Christmas! This year I decided to stop saying "Happy Holidays" - not sure why, I haven't become uberCatholic or anything (though recently in a drunken state I allegedly said, "All people who aren't Catholic are crazy" - oops - I didn't really mean that....I believe some people who aren't Catholic are crazy), but I celebrate Christmas, as do most of my friends, so, Merry Christmas.

This year I took up running and am sitting on the couch right now nursing a random pain in my ankle. All the little veins in my foot are bulging out...I don't think this is a good so I am going to take it as a sign to not run today and to drink more wine. This running thing has been great for me! I weigh less (running burns major calories!), cry less (endorphins!) and...I drink less (except for today apparently). All true, really, I mean it. In fact, this year I ran six 5ks, a10k and am gearing up for a half marathon in Atlanta in March of 2011.


Work cut back on travel a bit this year but that didn't stop me from traveling the entire freaking state of Indiana (by car, with colleagues - something I would not recommend) as well as air travel to Salt Lake City (where my colleague/friend kept yelling "Sister Wife" as we wandered the grounds of the Mormon Temple...I totally thought the Mormon Secret Service was going to nab us for that!), New York City (I only spent 1.5 days there but made the most of every second I didn't have to work), Atlanta (where my "Sister Wife" yelling colleague/friend and I were almost the victims of a mugging), Houston (Texas - never been a fan, sorry), Washington, D.C. (where I finally made it to the Newseum) and, of course, my not so glorious return to Missouri, where I escaped accident free and got to see my dear friend Emily!
 
While in Atlanta I fell in love...no, not with Usher or some rapper....with a handbag. Yes, Kate Spade's Bow Regard Maryanne. Unfortunately, she's way out of my price range, especially after the events of recent days which leads me to update you on....
 
My "children."  I would prefer not to discuss them at this moment but, what the hell. Lucy and LuLu decided ('cause they totally did this on purpose) to get sick with completely different cat sicknesses and in the last three weeks I have spent just over $1,000 at the vet. Yes, you read that correctly - $1k. I could have purchased two and half Bow Regard Maryannes for that!! And then there's Gracie - my happy go-lucky German Shepherd. Crime is up in the 'hood (I promise to give you a year end crime summary for the one mile radius around my house....and by the way, if you ever need crack I can tell you exactly where to go!) so I am thankful my dog looks menacing but let me tell you, if someone broke in the house she'd just jump on them and kiss them.

This year more friends got married, got engaged, got knocked up, opted to live in sin (oops - crazy Catholic emerging again) and I stayed single and not knocked up (and most certainly any sins I committed did not involve co-habitation). I'm convinced there are no normal single men out there, so I intend to stay single because I refuse to affix myself to some socially inept freak with a GED who makes $25,000 per year. Do you think I am joking? Go to match.com and try, just try, to find a single man over 30 with a Bachelor's degree or higher - THEY'RE NOT THERE because they're all married already! Not to mention, $25,000 per year is not enough to support my Kate Spade habit! Speaking of living single, I saw an episode of Oprah featuring some Michigan nuns and had a fleeting thought of joining them because I bet American Express would forgive my mounting credit card debt if I were a nun (crazy Catholic or shrewd financial move?)  but when I saw footage of them "marrying" Jesus I decided to chuck that idea. (Seriously, they "marry" Jesus?? How have I been a lifelong Catholic and not realized? It creeps me out. Sorry, sisters, it just does).

Once again this year I managed to not step foot in a Toys R' Us, Target or any other store that sells "hot toys" this holiday season (I am sure "hot toys" are sold in my 'hood but they're a different type of "hot" if you know what I mean and, get your mind out of the gutter, by "hot" I mean stolen!). The local news said today will be the second busiest shopping day of the year after Black Friday so best of luck to you if you still have shopping to do  - I am curled up with my Winter White wine from Leelenau Cellars, my "fireplace" is on (it's fake but whatever) and my $1,000 cats and crazy dog are curled up nearby. While some homes will be buzzing with children running around screaming and hopped up on candy it will be a silent night at casa de Jen. The single life is STILL all it's cracked up to be!

Love you and MERRY CHRISTMAS! -Jen

Save the date?

There's a situation I've been longing to blog about but have refrained for many reasons. I can no longer keep my mouth shut but will tread lightly in telling this story for it is no urban legend. Sadly, everything I am about to share is indeed true:

Once upon a time there were two single women living in the city. These two women shared a mutual friend in college, and became good friends after both moved to a new city across the state from where they grew up. Both lived downtown (until one fled to the suburbs in hopes that living in suburbia would help her realize her dream of being a soccer mom) and both were often shunned by their married friends for being single. These two women spent many a Valentine's Day together and went to dinners, bars, festivals, movies on a regular basis. Both struggled with their weight, which made them basically "undate-able" in the very superficial world they (and we) live in. They talked on the phone nearly every day - telling tales of work drama and mutual friend drama.

While they had a lot in common, they were also very different. The younger woman believed in things like helping her community and scorning chain restaurants, whereas the other believed in...well, the mall. These different philosophies caused some tension from time to time, but nothing insurmountable. Even after the older one moved to a condo in the suburbs they remained friends. The pair also had different philosophies on dating. The older one was always on the lookout for "the husband (she) hasn't met yet" while the other believed if it's meant to be it's meant to be and if it's not, it's not. Both had insecurities about entering the dating world.

Eventually, both gained some confidence and ventured into the wacky world of online dating because neither was the type of girl to get hit on at a bar - both needed some extra help in that department. In the beginning, they shared stories about bad dates and the crazy profiles of men they encountered online. Then, one day, the older one told what was certainly one of the worst first date stories ever! She met up with a guy she was matched with on eHarmomy and on their first date he looked at her and called her "chubby." Yes, chubby. And, by the way, this man was estimated to be about a decade older than her, and did not exactly have the abs of Ryan Reynolds...or even Jack Black for that matter. The friends gathered around for this story, as well as the waitress at the restaurant serving their table, all told her to forget the guy and move on. The conversation turned to other people at the table and other topics and the evening progressed into a fun girl's night out.

And that was the last time the older one was seen or heard from again. Well, for the most part. It turns out she didn't run from Mr. Old and Flabby. In fact, they eventually moved in together and got engaged. She cut her friends out of her life to date and now marry the man who called her chubby on their first date. With the wedding quickly approaching, her save the dates have gone out. But not everyone from her old life received a save the date...in fact, her former friend - the (cool, hip) younger urban dweller who scorns chain restaurants - was left off the list, despite the fact that the two of them spent nearly five years of their lives being each other's go-to single gal pal. And after the snubbed friend discovered she was snubbed, she de-friended her former friend on Facebook and the two never spoke again. The End.

OK, so the "de-friending" may be an exaggeration but the story needed to wrap up!

The moral of the story, kids? Don't ditch your friends when you get into a relationship. And, if you do, at least invite the people who supported you through your single years to your wedding to celebrate your new life, even if you have no intention of continuing the friendship. After all, these are the people who supported you through some of the most difficult times of your life and should be included in your special day, if for no other reason to have closure to your friendship and to wish you best of luck in your new life as Mrs. Old and Flabby!

My life flashed before my eyes

I had a near death experience today.

Well, sort of.

OK, I am being dramatic. It has been a ridiculous day. Which is ridiculous because today is Saturday - Saturdays are supposed to be wonderful, not craptastic!

I decided to improve my mood by going for a run - usual route through the 'hood. To make a long story short, here's what happened (and if you want to read the long story check out my brand new running blog Running in Pearls):

I approached an intersection, running parallel with traffic that has right of way. Cross street had a stop sign. I saw two cars rolling toward stop sign - a white van and a burgundy p.o.s. pickup truck. I realized I was not running fast enough to cross before van stops, so slowed down and van came to a complete stop then proceeded. I proceed. 'Cause I HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY. Burgundy p.o.s. - who made eye contact with me while I was yielding to the van - just followed van and tried to RUN ME OVER. I ranted, I raved, I guess I'm lucky he didn't have a gun (and admit I did wonder what Suzanne Sugarbaker would do in this situation!). He crossed the intersection and slowed down, presumably to look at me in his rear view mirror, then kept going.

Ridiculous.

He better watch out. I remember what the crappy truck looks like and I guarantee he lives in my neighborhood and our paths will cross. And, I know my rights. According to Code of the City of Grand Rapids section 10.122 titled Crosswalks, I totally had the right of way. So, in the words of Kathy Griffin, "suck it" you a-hole!

Give me a brake - fall 2010 edition

Wait! Didn't I already write an entry with this exact title? Well, slightly different story, totally different day.

My car, my car. Winter is upon us,'tis the season I loathe my car more than usual because it doesn't have four wheel drive.

(Not so) lucky for me, my car failed me the day before Thanksgiving...and it wasn't even snowing.

On Wednesday of last week I made the cross state trek to visit my family for Thanksgiving. After nearly an hour and a half on the interstate, I exited and made a quick stop at an outlet mall and then headed to my hometown. Shortly after exiting the outlet mall and getting onto the one road I would take for the remainder of my trip I came to a stoplight. My foot was on the brake ('cause I was stopped at a stoplight) and I leaned over to pick something off the floor of the passenger side. As I sat back up, I felt my foot (remember, it's on the brake pedal) go all the way to the floor. Immediately I thought, "That's not normal!"and then I freaked out and thought I broke the brake pedal.

Suddenly the light turned green and it was time to go. I had a line of traffic behind me so I went. I thought maybe it was a fluke, so I decided to test my brakes. And that's when panic set in. When I hit the brake the car would slow, but definitely wouldn't stop...and oh yeah, my foot was still going all the way to the floor.

Now, you have to understand, at this point I am traveling down a two lane highway that runs through some farms, fields, new housing developments and a golf course. There is nowhere to stop to get my car fixed and my head is spinning at the thought of paying a towing bill. What do I do? Not the smartest thing...I keep driving. I know that about 15 minutes up the road is civilization, and know that there are several car dealerships about 25 minutes up the road.  However, what I also know is "civilization" is where the highway crosses and where traffic is always very heavy. I ponder all of this, and decide to press on. After all, I can slow down, I just can't exactly stop.

Thankfully, luck was on my side. It is sort of like the seas parted. I only hit one red light after the brakes went out, despite the fact that I passed through several stop lights. Then,when I arrived in "civilization" traffic was light so I was able to drive slowly into the Wal-Mart Super Center parking lot. I thought a lot of Wal-Mart stores had car repair places....but when I pulled in I quickly realized I was wrong.

What to do...what to do...coasting along the back of the Wal-Mart parking lot, I spotted a quick oil change place dead head. Bingo. I didn't know if they did brakes or could help me, but it was something.

Pulling in to the bay was interesting, I rolled down the window and told the guy I couldn't stop the car - he insisted on standing in front of my car as I pulled in anyway. Luckily, I was able to throw the car in park before mowing down the oil change guy.

Once stopped, a sign caught my eye, "We repair BRAKES." Jackpot!

Long story short, two hours and nearly $200 dollars later my brakes were repaired. Turns out the brake line simply broke. And now, I'm broke.

On a side note, I've started a blog specifically to tell tales of my running adventures-check it out:
http://runninginpearlsgirl.blogspot.com/

"My kid's just gonna be going for candy..."

A friend and I attended a local event called the "Santa Parade" this weekend. This event attracted all types of people from our city, including --of course-- families since the headliner was Santa Claus. However, attending this event with children was certainly not a prerequisite for snagging a spot along the parade route.

My friend and I planned ahead, arriving early enough to claim a prime spot on the sidewalk near the start of the parade route. Nice families set up chairs on each side of us, including one poor dad with five small children (I don't know how he managed that-but he managed it well!).

All was fine and dandy until the start of the parade....that's when a guy with a young daughter asked if he could get in front of us with his daughter so she could see. He was nice and she was a little kid so of course we accommodated. However, I was a little irritated....I wondered why he chose us...but whatever, it was time to enjoy the parade.

As the parade started, I noticed it was one of those events where people walking with floats throw candy out to kids.

About one second after the first Tootsie Roll was tossed, this asshole guy with his daughter came barreling through, practically shoving my friend and, as he brushed passed us said, "Yeah...my kid's just gonna be going for candy the whole time so we're just gonna stand here" and proceeded plant himself and child DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF US.

At least this other guy asked!

Asshole's wife stood behind us and said nothing. Eventually some of her skanky friends showed up and the ridiculous amount of perfume one of the skanks was wearing (probably b/c she hosed herself in her fave Victoria's Secret body spray after an all night bender at the bar) was so overwhelming it drove the family of the guy who asked to get in front of us (and who, by the way, sat on the curb as not to obstruct our view) away.

As the parade progressed, people came and went and we had room to move a few steps over to have an unobstructed view. However, the whole thing was incredibly irritating. What, I can't go and enjoy a community event because I don't have a kid with me? Why did two dads choose my friend and I to cut in front of? Why didn't they find a spot where they could squeeze in further down the parade route? What makes them entitled to take the spot I arrived early to claim? If you want a spot on the curb near the start of the route then arrive early like I did!

Bah Humbug to Asshole Dad....I hope Santa puts a lump of coal in your stocking!

A trip down the stairs and an all time low

"And I'd finally die fat and alone, and be found three weeks later, half eaten by wild dogs." - Bridget Jones

Many single girls have this fear - dying alone (and fat) and not being found. I'll admit this fear creeps to mind every now and then.

Today, it almost became a reality.

Yes, after what has been one crappy week after another this month, I hit an all time low today when I slipped and fell down the stairs in my home. That's right - like a frail old lady. Boom, boom,boom -there I went down eight steps! Thankfully my stairs turn mid-point and the turn stopped me from going down all 16 steps.

Once I stopped I just laid there not moving, with a death grip on my BlackBerry, in pain and in tears.

The jury is still out on this numbness in my right hand and arm (can't be good, right?) and these shooting pains I am now feeling in my hip, right butt cheek and right shoulder....but I am just thankful I fell backward and not forward.

Seriously, peeps, if I fell forward I would not be typing this right now. I'd be lying there dead, unconscious or paralyzed. Since I live alone and keep a crazy work schedule and already talked to my mom and sister today no one would look for me until at least Friday...and that's only because I have plans to run a holiday themed 5k with a friend that night.

By that time Gracie the dog would get hungry and would start munching on my cold, dead corpse. And then the cats would join in. That's even worse than being eaten by wild dogs!

I would be a punchline on the local evening news: "Spinster's corpse eaten by pets!"

While still on the stairs I BBMed my friend Emily to let her know about my mishap. She's local and has a key to my house. I didn't need assistance...but I just needed someone to know I totally could have just died!

I know, I know, I'm being a total drama queen....but it's a little freaky.

Tonight I'll thank my lucky stars I fell backward rather than forward and hope I don't wake up with a forearm the width of a basketball. I bet I will have some wicked bruises on my back tomorrow! In the mean time, I am going to sit here and watch "Bridget Jones's Diary."

Oh God, I really am Bridget Jones. Shoot.

"Have you got a boyfriend? A real one?" - Bridget's dad to Bridget....yes, I could see my dad asking me this...if I actually had a boyfriend - that is.