The New Year

How it got to be mid-December I have no idea. But when this time of year rolls around, I can't help but think about New Year's Eve. Normally I don't celebrate New Year's Eve. I hole up and try not to think about it. I usually see the new year as nothing more than an extension of the past year with nothing to be excited about.

Last night I was at a Meetup event and the group is planning a New Year's Eve celebration. I mentioned my general hatred for New Year's and one of the members offered a different perspective. He blathered on for a minute, but the point of his rambling was to note that if nothing else, you can acknowledge the passage of time.

I rarely occasionally respect what he has to say, so I gave it some thought. I've decided that I will celebrate this year, for two reasons.

First, in a lot of ways, 2011 really sucked. And I don't mean a little. It sucked like a whore on Valentine's Day. I hit the trifecta of awful - abusive relationship, back surgery, and stress at work.

But, I made it through all of that. I learned a lot about myself and relationships, I'm much healthier than I was last year, and I've taken a leap and left my job without actually having one lined up. It was a year of scary lows, but also great highs.

Second, next year is going to be very different than this year. As I mentioned above, I gave notice at my current job. I've been interviewing with a company for a while, with a final interview next week. The job would challenge me and help me grow professionally. In a lot of ways, I think it's like my dream job.

If I don't get an offer, I'll be packing up and heading back to Florida. While I don't love the idea of living in Florida (and the oppressive heat and humidity, not to mention the creepy crawlies), being closer to my family will be mostly nice (I hope). Three of my cousins are getting married in May and June and I'd like to make those weddings without spending 48 hours and $1500 on plane trips to do it. No matter which way things go, I see it as a win/win for me. Win/win situations are rare, but they're nice.

So, in celebration of surviving some awful shit and moving on to new things, on December 31st, I'll be partying like it's 1999. (And yes, I realize this is 2011, but we all know I'm not cool enough to celebrate anything newer than 1999.)

May the best of your todays be the worst of your tomorrows.

Sadie Hawkins in Real Life

I never actually attended a Sadie Hawkins dance, but it's my understanding that the whole point is for girls to ask guys, instead of the other way around. The question I have is whether you can use in this real life, at times where it's not specified that that's the way it's supposed to be.

I want to start by saying that I really do feel bad for guys. There is a lot of pressure on them when it comes to relationships. Society has told us that it is the man's job to pursue and eventually ask the woman out. We've also been trained to believe that if a man doesn't ask us out, he's not interested. One line I hear over and over is, "Well, if he really liked me, he'd ask me out." I always respond that the same could be said in reverse, but the counter is, "It's his job to do the asking." Huh? When did it become someone's job?

What women seem to forget, or maybe they just don't know, is that men may have been forced into a role where they have to do the asking, but that certainly does not mean they enjoy it. Most of my male friends tell me how much they hate doing it. They get nervous, afraid they're going to say the wrong thing and ruin their chances. Sometimes, if they really like a woman, they won't even bother trying because it's too frightening.

Women get to hide behind the veil society wears so they rarely have to put themselves out there first. We think we are by flirting like crazy and dropping hints. But, let's face it, men are dense. You could be wearing a t-shirt that says, "I like you, Evan," and Evan would think you meant someone else. So really, we're not risking anything.

Dating is a complicated, nasty mess. If you're doing it right, you're extremely vulnerable. No one likes to put themselves out there and get rejected. But we all know it has to happen at some point in your life. A good friend of mine once told me that someone's lack of interest in me doesn't actually say anything about me. At first I argued against that. "Of COURSE it does! There is something wrong with me or he would like me!"

The more I thought it though, the more I realized he was right. There have been tons of men I wasn't interested in dating, but there wasn't anything wrong with them. They just weren't for me. Once I got used to that idea, the less being rejected bothered me. I'm not for everyone. (In fact, I'm not for most people. I really ought to come with a warning label.) I'm not saying I look forward to opportunities to be rejected, but if I expect to be treated like an equal in a relationship, I have to be willing to assume some of the risks.

I'm tired of women blathering about how they want equal rights and treatment, but when it comes time to make the first move, they cower behind the idea that the man has to take the chance. Please. Put on your big girl panties and act like a grown-up.

That just leaves one question: Men, do you want us to make the first move?

The things that really matter to me

I had a complete shit day today. I won't get into it here, but we'll just say it sucked. A lot.

Part of what made the suckage seem so bad was that I had a great afternoon/evening yesterday. I rushed home from work to get the mail (which was late) because results had been mailed out for the comprehensive exam I had to take to test out of my master's program. Fortunately I passed and won't need to take any of the three sections again. This was particularly good news since I would also have had to enroll in a class to re-enroll in the program since I hadn't taken a class in four quarters.

After I got that news, I went out with a new meetup.com group. I can never tell how those are going to go. I always wonder why I do it. From the outside it looks like you're gathering together a group of people who aren't cool enough to find friends in real life and expecting fun to come of it. Seems like a total fail.

However, for the most part, it really does turn out pretty well. Last night was an exceptionally good time. A group of 20 and 30somethings, most new to the area. One couple was from my hometown in FL, which almost no one has ever even heard of!

I also met some really awesome ladies. I don't usually/often get along super well with women, but we had a blast and I think we scared the shit out of a guy who was sitting near us. I even exchanged contact information with them and intend to follow up (rather than pulling a Seattle Freeze on them. Those of you from the South or Midwest don't understand this concept: It's saying you want to hang out with someone, but then never actually doing it. Over and over again.)

Then I roll into today, and all the high of yesterday just disappears. I thought seriously about running away to a foreign country, never to be heard from again.

But then I thought about everyone who's reading my novels and wants more.

And then I thought about everyone who reads this blog and has told me that it's helped them in some way.

And I realized that I want to finish the novel and write more. And I want to keep blogging. And that I can't just hide from the utter shit that is life sometimes.

This year has sucked. Back surgery, abusive boyfriend, not knowing where I'll be. But when you run from something, it always has a way of sneaking up on you, like a raunchy sex tape. (And we see where that's gotten Ms. Kardashian.)

So I'm still here. Fighting the good fight. Hoping I've got enough in me to make it to the next round.

People who don't love music are soulless

I love music. I'll listen to just about anything. I skip opera, but I have a little of everything else. I can go from country to rap to classical in one car ride. I mean, how do you turn off a song called "Trashy Women"? I rap hardcore with Eminem and I twang with Randy Travis. I go to another place when I hear the 1812 Overture.

I associate songs/artists with the people and time periods of my life. The soundtrack from An American Tale is one of the first things I really remember listening to. And  it was a record. My very own. My dad didn't really want me, his klutzy 5-year old, touching his record player and definitely not HIS records. Not that it stopped me. He had Michael Jackson's Bad album and every time I could when he wasn't home, I put it on. Years later I told him about that and he told me he knew I was doing it. Lies.

I used to dance around our basement to Flashdance songs (not that I'd seen the movie) and had serious arguments about the lyrics to Hip to be Square (I still don't like admitting I was wrong about them). I learned to love Reba McEntire and Billy Joel from my best friends in high school. To this day, Billy Joel is still one of the best concerts I've seen.

Music changes my mood, sometimes for better and sometimes worse. I should be ashamed to admit this, but I tear up a little when I hear Bella's Lullaby from the Twilight soundtrack (I bought both the score and soundtrack to the first movie). Music is just part of my being.

I rambled on about that for a reason: I don't get people who don't love music. A friend of mine recently wanted to hook me up with a friend of hers so she put us in touch by email. He and I emailed for a while, but things stalled out for me when he told me that he had maybe 10 songs on his iPhone. Now, I know those don't hold all that much music, but only TEN songs?!?!? You canNOT be serious.

I got to thinking about it and I started to wonder if there's something wrong with me. I mean, from my end, I sort of wonder if people who don't love music lack souls. Music IS soul. Sometimes it's the only way to express yourself. How can someone NOT LOVE MUSIC??

Is it weird that someone's lack of love of music is a dealbreaker for me? I mean, it's not like people who don't love music are all junkies gunning for my valuables. Or pedophiles. Or some other awful thing. I'm sure they're perfectly nice people. But I just don't understand it.