Archive | Storytelling RSS feed for this section

Lesson #12 – We Don’t Know What The Hell We’re Doing

7 Sep

Let’s just go ahead and admit that tons of us have no friggin’ clue what we’re doing and the idea that some clear path exists  is just silly. It’s okay to hope, and it’s great to expect great things, but can we agree that most of us are winging it? And I don’t care what Mary and Joseph over on Facebook are trying to make you believe because they, too, have no idea what they’re doing (although they may be better at portraying themselves as amazingness and perfection).

From what I’ve noticed, people are constantly questioning kids/dogs/houses/careers/husbands/wives/identities/sexual orientations and where to go for certain things or who to ask about this or that and what to do when blah blah blee bloo blah. This is a wonderful thing, though, isn’t it? As it turns out, we’re all human for the most part and the answers aren’t always the same for all of us. What a relief.

And maybe some people don’t want you to know that. Maybe some people forgot about how they got to where they are and they will receive a reminder sooner or later. Regardless, we’re humans and new experiences rarely are executed with finesse and precision and that’s life.

Be grateful for your experiences–yup. Pay attention to opportunities and act on them–absolutely. Don’t be a jackass–duh. But if at some point or another you fail or have no idea what’s happening, just understand that it doesn’t mean you’re doomed. I know this because I’ve never known what the hell is going on…if that makes any sense. I still don’t know what I’m doing, and I suspect this will continue throughout life in one way or another. Life would be boring otherwise.

Personally, this has been one of my favorite, strangest lessons in life. It’s the reason I write. I once broke up with a guy during a major snowstorm, watched the Screech from Saved By The Bell porn, and then fell down an icy hill with a handle of vodka after calling a group of children a bunch of little shits. Yeah…I was lost and had no idea what I was doing. I once attended a wedding alone the day after my last boyfriend died and I managed to choke on steak, throw up AND accidentally moon a group of people when the wind blew up my dress….not exactly how I hoped to handle death.

But there is no clear path, is there?

This is life, people, and it’s stupid-beautiful, and it’s totally fine that we have no idea what the hell we’re doing.

Whew, that felt good.

Advertisements

Oh, Hello, I’m Drunk

2 Apr

Oh hi, everyone. I’m drunky at the bar on a Wednesday watching baseball. Whatevs. Here’s what I’m thinking:

1. Lots of balls up in baseball. Long ball. Curve ball. Balls in general.

2. This bar is a sausage fest. Mmmm, sausage. No, but seriously. Lots of dudes.

3. Just had a shot of tequila. It’s gross, but I pulled it off as a sassy shimmy.

4. Yay sports!

5. My boyfriend just said “if I came back and there was caviar here, I wouldn’t be mad.” So he’s maybe wasted (don’t worry, MADD, we’re walking home).

6. I just showed this to him and he said he didn’t say it and now he’s talking about Seinfeld while I’m typing.

7. Now he’s singing Lady Gaga.

8. I just played “Who Let The Dogs Out” on the jukebox. Gonna play it again soon.

9. Can’t wait to go to the beach and swim with exotic animals and run away in the Honduran jungle and become their island princess queen.

10. Seriously. It will be so romantic and my dude will hold me like in those romancey novel covers and then I am going to hold a monkey and swim with jaguars and ride a horse down the beach with wind in my hair and you are all gonna be jeeeeelous.

11. Sean just told me to say Michael Jordan playing for the White Sox was amazing and ’90s Ken Griffey Jr. was also neat.

12. The bartender just made fun of the way I say “huh?” and my response was to make my monkey face and now they’re talking about the monkey face. I’m leaving. Bye. I love you guys. So much.

13. PS – Sean just said “the last time I saw 3 balls and 2 strikes, I was at a circus.” (K, bud.)

14. He told me to add “circus in Tijuana” but I don’t feel like editing.

15. He’s lucky he’s cute. 🙂

16. Him: Baby wants mozzarellas?
Me: Sure.
Him: You are my Sicilian baby queen.
Me: (900 million smiles for infinity miles and stuff)

A Trip To David’s Bridal

2 Apr

Wedding season is quickly approaching and on Monday I finally had to suck it up and go to David’s Bridal to get fitted for a bridesmaid dress. This was my first trip to a bridal store of any kind, and this one happens to be in an iffy neighborhood, so I was basically having an anxiety attack about it, especially because of the feedback I got from Yelp reviews:

“It was obnoxious seeing trashy girls in neon yellow dresses parading all over the place with midriffs and cleavage hanging out. Especially in the location of Maryland this David’s is located.”

and:

“I didn’t appreciate the tiny dressing rooms or the communal area for brides to show their dresses to friends/family. Why? Because I didn’t appreciate the screaming kids or the creepy dads/fiancés/other males staring at me and commenting like I was a piece of meat, all the while they were there to support someone else. I felt so gross!”

 

My personal trip to David’s Bridal, however, was a godsend. We were in and out of the store within 18 minutes, there were zero screaming children, no creepers, and the dress was on sale and fit perfectly. It was astounding, really. Only a true bridesmaid ninja could pull that kind of thing off.

Relieved about the ease of the trip, we exited the parking lot and gaily rolled up to a red light. I began telling my mom a story about my friend when suddenly she squinted and cut me off–“Wait, is that a dancing nun?” she asked.

I looked over and sure enough, a nun was dancing on the corner, waiting to cross the street. We were so in awe that neither of us could blink or utter a single word. I mean, it’s pretty rare to see a nun jamming out on the corner at 4:45 pm on a Monday (or ever) and I swear to you that not even the hand of God could have stopped her groove.

Then a miraculous thing happened right when the light turned green–the nun whipped around and startled us with an unexpected, prominent five o’clock shadow.

Our jaws dropped in unison before my mom yelled “Heavens! A transvestite nun!? A drag queen!”

I was howling.

As we drove off, I peered in the side view mirror just in time to see Sister Mary Fabulous working it across the street like she owned everything within a 20 mile radius. “Bless her,” I thought to myself, “I wish I could have that kind of confidence.”

I guess that might seem like an odd thing to think about a guy dressed as a nun. Was this prostitution? Is Monday a good day for a drag show? Was it just a crazy guy?

These are questions that will never be answered. Trust me, though, if you saw that strut you would have prayed for some of Sister Mister’s confidence, too.

 

nunnery
Once again, thank you to Jon from Pastrami Basket for a surprisingly accurate interpretation!

%d bloggers like this: