The Joys of Having Roommates

I have the greatest roommates. Truly, I do. However…

I came home Sunday morning after being gone all weekend house/pet sitting. I was running late and really didn’t have time to stop at home but apparently I couldn’t wear converse sneakers (which is all I had) with a bridal gown.
Side Note: My friend works a bridal shop, so I help out sometimes by wearing dresses at events. 
Anyways, it was meant to be a quick trip in and out. I walk up to the stoop and there was a lighter lying in front of the door. I do the normal thing and step over it, no time to think too hard about the implications of that. Upon opening the door, the smell of beer and questionable decisions overtake me. Straight ahead I see broken glass and a guy laying on my living room floor in the fetal position. Just when I start to wonder who the heck was laying on my floor a better question formed, who was on my smaller sofa? Another guy I didn’t know curled into a ball, with his pants around his ankles and his hand down his boxers. 
Side Note: Scrub the couch.
There was also a couple on the larger couch. I didn’t know them either. Who are these people? I decided I that time was running short and I already spent too much time trying to figure out what was going on. I have this problem of trying write the stories to situations in which I’m clueless. 
I race to my room and grab my heels. But on the way to the door, I have to go back to the scene of the party and just to double check…yep the other guy on the larger couch had his pants pulled down too.  
Side Note: I just need a steam cleaner with a functional hose. 
I finally got the whole story tonight from my roommates. It was lackluster. They drank too much, went out. Came home and drank more. I should have just stuck with the stories I was inventing. They were more fun.
Living with them is always interesting. I never really know what I’m going to walk into when I come home. 
Side note: I should have taken a picture. It didn’t seem like a priority but now I wish I could attach it to this post. I’m sorry for the lack of a visual.

He’s Just Not That Into You? Or just not into being pressured?

“You know, you’re not getting any younger…” my mom informed me on Christmas day. This line was part of a longer lecture in reference to speeding my relationship up with my boyfriend, Greg. Her point was I’m not going to have my mid-twenties working in my favor for too many more years, “he needs to step up or step out.” And she likes him. She just likes the idea of a guy legally binded to care for me a lot better.

It’s disturbing the amount of pressure placed on women to get married and have children. I want to get married and most of the time I want children. But I want all of that when we both feel ready. I’m pretty certain I’ve found that elusive ‘one’ but I want him to come to the same conclusion with no pressure from me or anyone. My biggest concern is that I would look back after years of marriage and think he would have never proposed if it wasn’t for the magazines left out with engagement rings circled or due to the “step up or step out” ultimatum. 

The pressure is not only felt from my well meaning mom. From the start of our relationship I’ve had clients who have known me for years ask to see my ring finger every time they come in to shop. Or girls that I work with ask on every big occasion “do you think he will propose tonight?” My response is always “absolutely not, not for a long time.” Yet, they still continue to dream for me. I understand the pressure is coming from a kind place but what is it with women that make us wired that way? 

Men don’t do things like that. In fact it’s usually the opposite. Greg says his friends joke about having to be tied down and stuck sleeping with one woman for the rest of their miserable life. It’s like the word ‘wife’ to most men has direct connotations to the words fat, ugly and nagging.  Maybe it’s the media portrayal of, men and women but somehow I don’t think it’s totally at fault. For instance the movie “He’s Just Not That Into You” isn’t the greatest movie made but it does have a good amount of these relationship challenges I’ve been talking about and more. It shows the unmarried couple where the female wants marriage and male does not, the unhappy married couple in which the male is cheating, the desperate woman trying to find a man and a man playing the field of women. It seems too easy to demonstrate those stereotypes but there is a reason why the stereotypes exist. I’m certain everyone can think of people who fit these roles in their own life.

With that being said I understand that this situation is not the case for all men and women. I’ve just been noticing it happening all around me in the past few years. And now the phenomenon has crept it’s way into my life. I know my mom, for instance, lived in a different time. By the time she was my age (a spry 25) she was on her second marriage and child. She never got the opportunity to go to college. Her number one job was mom and wife. Now I think she has tough time adjusting to being in her early fifties and having a career thats not caring for others. Based on her life expectations, I’m way behind schedule. 

But I think I’m right on time. I’m in love with a wonderful person who is respectful and kind. And maybe I’m it for him, but maybe I’m not. And that’s alright. Life is better lived when everything is moving along at your individual pace.

I adore this quote. It’s a good one that I try to live by: Do not think that love in order to be genuine has to be extraordinary. What we need is to love without getting tired. Be faithful in small things because it is in the that your strength lies. MT

Potential Energy

A while back a few of my girlfriends and I went to Busch Gardens in Virginia for a short vacation. I had a lot of fun but what I left with (besides a massive hangover) was a glaring comparison between myself and the Griffon roller coaster. Or one part of it specifically. The coaster had a pause before dropping 205 feet at a 90 degree angle. I feel like my life is paused. As if I’m a ball of potential energy just working towards finding a force to shove me down the drop and for my life to continue.

I’m content with the pause I’m currently living in. But I’m ready to face the ups and downs of life that is brought on when you have a career that you’re building upon. I have this unlikely notion that if I gain a career that I can have fun and be creative while putting in hard work, the rest of my life will follow. Don’t misunderstand, I love my job in retail (with the exception of kids peeing into objects on my sales floor, see previous post) but I’ve been ready to start a new career using my English degree for some time now.  The problem is it’s really hard to get noticed when the applications are submitted online. I feel like they get sucked into a black hole of swirling applications and resumes never to be seen again. And I missed the memo while in college that I should have done at least one internship and worked on the school newspaper. So where to go from here…

Since reversing time is not an option, at least at the moment, I’m going to keep applying and working hard while enjoying my life. Every significant happening that has occured in my life I have stumbled upon by sheer incident. So is strange that I’ve resolved to not stress (too much) about this pause and 205 drop I’m facing and let blind faith take over?!?

Here is an original use for the plastic bottle you’ve been toting around. Don’t thank me. Thank his mother.

Let me set the situation up: It’s a busy weekend day at the retail store I work at. I’m in the middle of a transaction with a regular client. Her son (I’d guess age two maybe three) runs up to her doing the pee dance.  Pause. This is a normal occurrence at my store. Children typically have to use the bathroom a lot. I get it. Usually we hold the merchandise while the parent and child make a mad dash to the closest restroom. My store doesn’t have public restrooms due to loss prevention purposes but we do make exceptions if a child is going to wet themselves also known as an emergency. Start. Before I could offer the…’oh I can take you guys to the back so he can use the bathroom’ line she busts out an empty water bottle. Yes, this is exactly where this story is going. Next thing I know his pants are down and he is peeing into the water bottle.

This isn’t necessarily where I take a (large) issue with this situation. While I don’t have kids I do babysit and I am a compassionate person so I comprehend every situation is conditional. However, it did bother me the mother was laughing and telling me to look (I refused, I really didn’t want to) and the little boy looked proud of himself (not single drop landed outside that bottle, whew) but I don’t understand how this normal to reinforce your child to pee into a bottle in public before exhausting all other restroom possibilities. It was made all the more uncomfortable because there where lines of clients waiting to rang up and they looked just as shocked as me.

One positive aspect from this whole debacle (besides a new way to recycle) was it caused me to really think about our society and how we could all stand to loosen up a bit. After all everybody pees, just usually not into a bottle or in public.

-Rae

The Beginning

A Dream Deferred by: Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore–
And then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?
 Or crust and sugar over–
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

Have you ever woken up one day and thought ‘so this is my life?’

It happens to me at least once every two weeks. Don’t get me wrong. I live an insanely fortunate life. I have my health, amazing friends, family and a boyfriend who love and support me. And I am one of the lucky people (in this economy) who have full time job working as a women’s retail manager.
Still, every so often my dreams become “like a heavy load” and remind me I still want more for my life. When I first read this poem (in middle school) I couldn’t get past the visual element of a dream exploding and festering. I thought what a funny way to explain a dream which has escaped you. But now I know; I GET it. I grew up and dreamed of being a writer. I dreamed to help and reach people through the written word. Then in turn, allowing words to help me heal and to grow as an individual. Somewhere in college I let go of that dream. Obtaining a degree in English seemed to be a step in the right direction but I missed the major stair of an internship and working on the schools newspaper. Instead I worked full time through school in order to support myself (and my cat Cupcake, judge me, I know you are) leaving me with my current career path and effectively losing my dream. Well here I am. Reclaiming my dream and working towards starting my story. Step one. Day one.

Thank you for being a part of it.

-Rae                                                                                       (The Cat aka: Cupcake)