Category Archives: commentary

i said yes

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No, I am not engaged. I’m not even dating someone, although with the last time I got engaged (the only time) that’s about how fast it happened. But I have recently come across three posts about engagement rings that I found very interesting (here, here and here…be sure to read the comments, as well) and that got me thinking about the whole “proposal” thing. Having been there and done that once, I feel like I’ve got a little bit of experience. And actually, if you include the instant message proposal, then I’ve been there twice, so that gives me even more clout. Just don’t look to me for any advice on an actual marriage.

I do have some opinions on rings. I had a diamond and I liked it. I don’t know that I want one again. We’ll see. But this post is not about the “bling”. This post is about the actual proposal.

When “the boy” and I decided to get married, it was a decision we made together, over the phone. I wasn’t going to be seeing him for a while and so that’s how it was discussed. He wanted to propose to me at the airport when I picked him up, with all of my friends and family there. He told me this later, at which point I should have known things were not going to work. While I am all about disclosing the details of my life, I do not like that type of limelight. It’s just not my thing. I have an extremely loving family, a family that would walk to the end of the earth for me. We all know we love each other, but we are not overtly affectionate or over-the-top about it. Having a guy propose to me in front of anyone is not my idea of a good time. Of course, to the boy’s credit, I did not share any of this with him. I don’t know that I had yet realized just how much I don’t like public affection. Not regular old PDA…I’m all for making out at the movies*…but declarations of love in public.

Well, the boy’s plan didn’t work out, mainly because my family did not like him and the weekend he came out was just too busy for all of them. So, no family. But he still wanted it to be some grandiose gesture. It would be a proposal by loud speaker, in the airport. That didn’t work out because in the Phoenix Airport they no longer make actual announcements when paging people, they just say your name and that you have a message waiting. So, I heard my name, went to the little paging station, picked up the phone and heard a little message telling me where the would-be-fiance was located and that he was going to ask me to marry him.

I found him, he got down on his knee, asked me to marry him and I said “yes”.

Really, it was sweet. And quiet. A little more public than I would have liked, but it was in the presence of strangers, so it was all right.

So, why am I writing this?

Because, after I got engaged, people would ask me over and over and over again how he asked me. The question in my head was always “Why does it matter?” Not that it’s not an exciting thing, but really, does it matter how he proposed? Is a “bad” proposal indication of less love? What is the person going to say when he/she thinks the way he proposed just wasn’t that great? “Well, at least you got a nice ring”? I just felt awkward. Even sharing it now feels awkward. Not because I didn’t like the proposal, but because you cannot recreate that moment for someone else. It never comes out sounding right.

Now, I’m guessing not everyone agrees with me. I’m guessing some of you out there would love a proposal on the screen at seventh game of the World Series. And I’m guessing some of you who are married loved sharing how he proposed…or for those of you doing the proposing, how you proposed. I, however, am not one of those people. I don’t like big and I don’t like sharing a moment that, to me anyway, is a rather intimate and personal moment, with anyone who decides to ask me. It goes right to my whole issue with, “Oooh, you’re engaged. Let’s see the ring.”

I don’t need some huge ring and I don’t need a screen with flashing lights or a proposal written in the sky. Not only do I not need them, but I don’t want them. What I do want is a ring that a great guy picked out and thought, “Wow, I think Chloe will love this.” What I do want is a sweet, quiet declaration of love with an invitation to spend the rest of forever with him. What I do want is for people, someday (should “someday” happen) to ask me what it was about this man that I fell in love with and why I am so excited to spend my life with him, not how he asked me and what the ring looks like.

*While I do enjoy a good make out, my days (there were only about three…which I realize is three too many) of movie make-outs is over.

who raised you?

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18

You will rarely find me posting about guys, especially in specifics, on the blog. I want to be able to be honest on here and so that requires some filtering of topics and subjects. Not only that, but I really am not that bitter girl who thinks that all men are jerks and that I don’t need one…well, want one. I don’t really think I need one, other than for the obvious.

Having said that, I’m sure you know what’s coming. One more thing before we begin. All of those times my mother told me that one of the best ways to know how a guy is going to treat you is to watch how he treats his mother, I now realize that really, you can watch how a guy treats ANY girl he’s not interested in and that is an even better indication (as evidenced below).

This weekend I had the opportunity to spend some “quality time” with a bachelor. We’ll call him Kevin*. I don’t want to go into detail about how I know Kevin or what our connection is because, well, just because. But, here are my questions for Kevin (and by questions, I mean “things that Kevin did that I cannot believe he did and that make me not want to date, or be boyfriended or get married…EVER”). And realize that I am on a rant. I don’t really dislike men in general. In fact, I have several great examples of fantastic ones in my life, but Kevin…well, let’s just say he’s not one of them. And if you can’t see what’s wrong with the examples below, I am praying for you. Seriously.

And we begin (please choose all answers that you feel apply and answer them in order as some of the questions will help answer the previous ones)…

  1. You are a guest in a couple’s home. The couple has a brand new baby and the woman often has to get up in the middle of the night and come into the kitchen for various reasons. You spend the first night on the couch because you are too immature to share a bedroom with your brother-in-law. After that first night, the man asks you if you wouldn’t mind sleeping back in the bedroom because it would make his wife more comfortable with having to get up in the middle of the night. You:
    1. graciously oblige, feeling a little guilty that it didn’t occur to you that you might be making your host slight uncomfortable.
    2. give your hosts a bit of a hard time, but still sleep in the bedroom because you are their guests and they asked you if you wouldn’t mind doing that.
    3. listen to their request, but decide to still sleep on the couch because you are too immature to share a room (not a bed) with your brother-in-law.
    4. loudly state that you are going to have to veto that decision, even when approached by the woman’s sister who basically tells you you’re a rude guest (in a kind and joking way).
  2. (This is a two part question.) You have arrived back at your hosts’ home after a dinner out paid for by the woman’s father. Dessert was not ordered at the restaurant, but ice cream was provided back at the house. The woman’s sister and nephew make a pan of brownies for the following day’s festivities. You decide that you would like a brownie so you:
    1. politely ask the woman’s sister if you can have a brownie.
    2. go straight for the pan, that is covered in aluminum foil and dig in.
    3. loudly mention how delicious the brownies smell and how good they must taste.
    4. proclaim, “These are for me, right?”
  3. (continuing)…once you are informed that the brownies are actually not for that night, but the following one, you:
    1. state how excited you are to eat the brownies tomorrow and ask if you can wash the bowl since the sister and nephew did the work.
    2. whine about how it’s not fair when they smell so good and you want one now.
    3. try to schmooze the sister (who you, of course, assume will fall for you pitiful attempt at flirting because, well, you apparently think you are “just that good”) into giving you a brownie anyway.
    4. Wait until the woman and her sister have gone to the other side of the house, ask the man, who then must ask the woman, who ends up giving in because she is waaay too nice.
  4. After having had your brownie you:
    1. are satisfied with one and wait until the following day, when dessert is served.
    2. decide that one wasn’t enough and wait until the sister leaves to eat a few more, at the same time scratching up the pan because you’re an idiot and used a knife on a nonstick pan.
    3. get into the brownies Sunday morning, leaving only half of them for everyone else (25 people to be exact)
    4. act all cavalier about how you ate the brownies and mention how nice it was for the sister to make brownies just for you.
  5. You have been a guest at the house for a day. The woman gets home from working to find her house a semi-disaster because no one has cleaned up after cooking dinner. You notice that she begins to do the dishes…dishes that she did not use in any way, shape or form. You:
    1. get up and start helping this poor woman who’s cleaning up after four men with a two month old on her hip.
    2. help the woman once she has asked you if you wouldn’t mind helping.
    3. sit on your lazy arse and do nothing.
    4. offer to help when you notice that she has put the last dish in the dishwasher.
  6. The entire group gets back to the couple’s home on Sunday after church people are busily preparing food for lunch. You:
    1. offer to help and when asked to cut the tomatoes, inform the woman’s sister (who’s running things) that you’ve never cut a tomato before.
    2. sit on your butt and watch NASCAR with the other lazy people (NASCAR???).
    3. help cut tomatoes, but in the process cut your finger (not cut, like stitches…cut like scratch), which apparently is a mortal wound that keeps you from being able to help in any further capacity, but doesn’t keep you from shooting a game of pool.
    4. come into the kitchen and ask if you can have a brownie.
  7. You can’t stay at your girlfriend’s house, rather than the couple’s, because she dumped you (I don’t understand why). When asked whether you are dating someone you:
    1. basically lie about it and say, yes you were, but she wanted a little “too much” from you (whatever that means) so you had to put the “kibosh on the relationship”.
    2. say that you were, but it ended, giving no further details.
    3. state that no, you are not dating someone.
    4. state that you were dating someone, but she dumped you.
  8. When asked why you are still single, you think that it’s because:
    1. you just haven’t found a woman who is everything you’re looking for.
    2. women are too demanding and expect you to do too much.
    3. are holding out for a woman like your mother, who never made you slice a tomato or do your laundry.
    4. can’t seem to find one that will marry you.

Answers: 1. 4, 2. 4, 3. 3 & 4, 5. 4, 6. 1 & 3, 7. 1, 8. I don’t know…but these all seemed like viable options.
* As always, name has been changed to protect the guilty, stupid and otherwise socially inept.

and the show will go on

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Apparently, people are not fans of breaking things up. I guess I was just worried that my running friends didn’t necessarily want to read about my weight loss stuff, or that the foodies out there don’t necessarily want to hear about my internet dating tragedies…that, and I feel like I post way too much and way to often. It appears, however, that I was mistaken. One blog it shall remain…which is nice since it took about 9 months to get this one looking and functioning the way I wanted it to.

Oh, and I do love the name of this blog. It was inspired by a quote from the movie Reality Bites. A lesser known film of the 1990’s that I don’t know that I would recommend to anyone, but a film that I thoroughly enjoy. Ethan Hawk, a soundtrack with U2, Ben Stiller before anyone knew who he was. A great flick, seriously. Although, I am easily entertained, so be warned.

Thank you all for your feedback. Admittedly, it was nice to hear that you all do like the one blog, even with the superfluous randomness that so often emerges from the depths of my crazy mind. Glad to know you’re enjoying it.

And Cristin…you really should try Google Reader. It changed my life.

Happy 4th of July! (spt – yankee doodle dandy)

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Rather than boring you with the play by play of my day (which was pretty fabulous!), I think I’ll just list a few things I love about our country. I don’t think our country is perfect, and my feelings are based on my experience in this country (which experience has been relatively privileged), but having lived in a couple of other countries, I definitely have an appreciation for some of the freedoms we enjoy.

  • I am grateful for the freedom of religion. And while, it isn’t perfect and people are still judged by/for their beliefs, I can’t imagine what it would be like to live in fear because of my beliefs.
  • I am grateful for the freedom of speech. While I don’t think people always use it wisely and sometimes I’d like to take it away from others, I am grateful for it.
  • I am grateful to live in a country that tries to help other countries. While the process and the efforts may be far from perfect, at least they exist.
  • I am grateful that public education is an expectation for all. I know it doesn’t happen for everyone, but I’m grateful that it is the goal.
  • I am grateful to live in a country where women are not treated as less than men. There are still chauvinists out there (just like there are, in my opinion, over-the-top feminists), but I can vote, I can own property, I will never be someone’s “property”, I can get the same education as a man, and the same jobs. But even better, I can choose to stay home and be a mom someday. Whatever I decide, it’s my choice. What an amazing blessing in a world where so many women don’t have those freedoms.
  • I am grateful that there are laws against the exploitation of children and that a government agency exists specifically to protect them.
  • I am grateful that, as I type this and can hear fireworks still going, I don’t worry that the sounds are anything but fireworks (and I realize this is not a “freedom” all people of this country enjoy).
  • I am grateful for all of the men and women who have sacrificed so much to protect the wonderful freedoms I enjoy.
    * This is my SPT for the week. I decided to go with the “What does Indepence Day mean to you?” option.

insecure dilemmas

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One of my least favorite existential dilemmas is how, no matter how accomplished or successful I am or how great my friends are, I always come back into moments of serious insecurity: the dilemma? Why? Why should I feel insecure? What is it that makes me worry about whether or not this person likes me or why that person never calls me? I have a pretty great life. Sure, I’m plagued with trials that we all seem to experience. Perhaps mine are different than yours, but we all have our share of hardships.

Even with those trials, I still feel like I have a very full and rich life. I don’t wonder where my next meal is going to come from, or my next pair of shoes, for that matter. I have fabulous friends whose company I thoroughly enjoy. I have a wonderful family. I have my health. So what is it that makes me feel “less than” because I can’t run a 6-minute mile, or sing as well as my voice teacher, or play the piano like my father, or have my sister’s cute figure, or choose fonts like my design friends, or write like, well really, lots of you out there, or, or, or? And why is it that, at 29, I still worry about being left out or missing something?

I think I had this idea as a child, and adolescent, that grown-ups didn’t worry about such childish things as whether or not people liked them or how well they could do things. I never imagined that my dad was ever unsure of himself at work or that my mom wondered why a particular friend hadn’t invited her to some luncheon. I had a hard time with friends through most of high school. I mean, I had them, but I always worried about whether or not my friends really liked me and whether I would be invited to the next party. But I always assumed that I would outgrow this, that as time passed I would become wise and knowing and stop caring about such trivial things.

Unfortunately, while the insecurities have changed slightly over the years, they are still there. Now I worry about whether or not my friends get sick of me talking (I can be a little chatty). I worry about what they think of my choices. When someone doesn’t appear to “like” me, I wonder why. Of course, I always assume it’s my problem, that I did something wrong. It’s like, the more I know myself, the more I realize how many weird quirks I have. And the more quirks I notice, the more I wonder why people are friends with me. I know that sounds kind of pathetic and I don’t mean it that way. It’s not that I don’t see my good qualities. I know I’m fun (see, obnoxious) and I think I’m a good friend, but sometimes I just really think, “Wow, sometimes I do this and it’s really annoying.”

The worst part is, I am fully aware that I am being ridiculous. I know that everyone has quirks. I know my friends do and they don’t bug me at all. The quirks just add to why I love them. They are what make my friends unique, entertaining and enjoyable. I know that I don’t have to be good at everything for people to like me and I know that it’s okay if some people just don’t like me. Well, I know all of this…in theory. The practical application, however, is a different story.

It’s funny that I always worry about what others think of me and rarely concern myself with what others think about what I think about them. I wonder how different my world would be if I would stop worrying about what other people thought about me and started worrying more about how I made others feel about themselves.