a little trip to iceland

Friends, I went to Iceland recently. When the phone rings and your friend says, "I found a Groupon for a trip to Iceland and I think we should go,"...you say yes. You call your currency guy and pack lots of warm clothes and go to Reykjavik. 

How to make the most of your little trip to Iceland: 

Get cozy on the plane with a blanket and Icelandic lullaby. 

Marvel at the difference between Best Western in Iceland and in the US.

Learn some Chuck Norris facts at the Chuck Norris Bar & Grill. Naturally.

Decide on a hashtag for the trip. #alittletriptoiceland

Go to The Icelandic Phallological Museum. Learn that the 2008 Olympic silver medal handball team was honored for their contribution to Icelandic pride.

I GET IT REYKJAVIK YOU'RE GORGEOUS.

Check out the geysers.

Everyone is taking a selfie at this spot so jump on the bandwagon?

Suffer way too much cold, wind, and rain but damn, that view.

Ah, traveling outside the US has some perks. 

Go to the Big Lebowski themed bar (OF COURSE THERE IS) and try the local beverages.

Take an accidental photo of your carry on luggage.

Say hello to Greenland.

Take an unexpected detour to Pittsburgh instead of your planned detour through Boston. (You're on my list, JFK*.)

*The airport, not the president. 

Here's to the new year.

Some of you may recall that despite some fun adventures, 2013 was not my best year. I had high hopes for 2014. 

And let me tell you--2014 delivered. I started a new job and was promoted shortly after. And I'm really enjoying it. Like, I had forgotten what it was like to enjoy your job without waking up in the middle of the night convinced it was time to get up and eat breakfast or take a shower before your twin tells you that no, you have like 4 hours left to sleep and please go back to bed. I don't miss that sort of job stress. 

I had a lot of fun adventures. including five days in Guatemala and a trip to Disney World to cheer on my BFF. I hung out in Pittsburgh and Washington DC and Boston and Smith College and Dallas and Maine and Bloomington and a shocking number of places in Ohio. I'm really grateful I have the kind of job and family that are very understanding of my desire to leave all the time. 

I only went to three weddings. This is huge. SUCH an improvement over last year's five. I mean, the 2015 invitations and engagement announcements are already pouring in, but at least last year was light. Also,I only got tricked into one bouquet toss--and that was through an inappropriate use of Beyonce so really I can't be blamed. 

There were babies! AND NOT MINE, which is also a huge win for 2014. Two wonderful friends and my nephew all had babies this year and I'm mapping out strategies for taking the Best Aunt title. (Unrelated question: what's the age where it stops being weird and inappropriate to buy alcohol for minors and becomes a cool thing to do? Nevermind, I definitely have at least a couple years to figure it out.)

Lots of family members are getting engaged or married or having babies, and while this is by itself is not necessarily exciting for me, it means that they have the attention of all the aunts--who are therefore NOT ASKING ME when I'm getting married. 

My boyfriend didn't break up with me by ignoring me! Hooray! This is totally a win for 2014 AND YES THAT IS NOW PART OF THE CRITERIA. One thing is for sure here, and that is that standards were a little lower at the onset of 2014. Things like, did I cry in the shower every day or just occasionally? became important indicators. 

Yes, 2014 was pretty great. And I have high hopes for 2015. Why is that? Because it's already January 6th and I haven't cried in the shower ONCE. 

Not your typical Thanksgiving post.

This has been sitting in my drafts for weeks. I come back to it frequently, but my words are always a tangle. I want to edit it and finish it all the time. Last night I decided that perhaps my words on this issue will never untangle, but that I might feel better if I just post the damn thing. 


I'm not here to list all the things I'm thankful for this holiday season. Because honestly, there are a lot. I'm a lucky woman with a pretty awesome life. But that's not what I'm here to say. 

Not in this moment. In this moment...I am sad. I am sad in a way that cannot be expressed. I am sad and frustrated and angry in the pit of my stomach and it radiates outward to my whole being. I look at the world around me, and know that we can do better.

Earlier this month, I spent a day at the hospital while my niece came into the world. It was 11 hours in a hospital waiting room and even though that sounds uncomfortable and boring, it was one of the best days I've had in a long time. I spent it with my family and everyone was full of joy and we didn't argue once and yeah, that's something of an accomplishment. She was born into a beautiful, loving, strange, wonderful family. I adore her; she's perfect. I made a collage for the background of my phone, of her and the other babies in my life. And it probably looks weird; I probably seem like I'm one step away from building a house of candy in the woods somewhere. But I look at them, the children of family and friends--these pieces of my heart--and I want them to be safe. I want to know that when they grow up it will be in a world that's just and kind and supportive. I want more for them than what we've cultivated.

I come here and rant about my ex boyfriends and I whine about being single and we joke about my fear of commitment and yes, it can get a little bit angry. It's all true...my love life is abysmal and I have dated some dickheads, but honestly, I believe in kindness and treating people with respect. (Sorry if that shatters any illusions for you, but please know that I will always complain about my exes and being reprimanded for forgetting to flush** when I got up to pee in the middle of the night. I remain terrible at dating. Rest easy.)

We're not doing a good enough job. We treat people who are different from us like shit and we treat a lot of people who aren't different at all like shit and we treat the world around us like shit and in the end...a lot of us treat each other badly, far too often. The sadness and anger I'm feeling threaten to become toxic. I worry that if it stays too long it will infect everything good in my life. I have the same worry for everyone I hear crying out that things have to change. So we need to try. We need to find ways to love each other and fix what's broken. We need to help each other figure it all out and try to understand each other and lift each other up instead of stepping on each other. We have to try. I know that's a very broad, sweeping, naive, privileged way of looking at it...but it's a start, right? It's all I have in this moment, besides sadness and anger and frustration--and I'd rather not pass those along. 


We need to do better. I have a tiny niece who deserves better from this world. 



**Yes that happened. It was just pee--it's not like he had to face a tampon in the morning. SORRY I'M NOT AT MY BEST AT 3AM, YOUR HIGHNESS. Put on your big boy pants and flush it your damn self. 

What Kept Me from Blogging This Week?

Sorry if I got your hopes up for some interesting content today. (And most of you are like, yeah my hopes are never very high when I click here WELL GOOD low expectations from the start is also my tactic for impressing men.) 

So what kept me from updating this week? 

Well, on Monday I was totally useless following a weekend-long training. I was going over my notes and working on the to-do list that my weekend created. Also I was recovering from late nights sitting on cement floors with my friends, very few hours sleeping on a bunk bed, and long productive days. Then I met some friends for a beer, which included spying on/live-tweeting a couple dates at the bar. And doing a shot with one of the couples?? And panicking that he somehow knew I was tweeting about his date? And a lemon drop was his way of saying, I'm on to you and I'm not as weird as you're telling the internet? 

It's not like I gave away any identifying details about him, his date, or their location. But when a stranger talks to you while you're composing a tweet about him winking at his date, a bit of paranoia steps in. I think everything is ok though. 

The rest of my week was full of meetings, fundraiser stuff, puppysitting, mile-long to do lists, and potential job stuff. I wish I had more scandalous things to tell you about, trust me. 

And now here we are, with a disappointingly short** blog post. I'm trying to make this quick as I was just flirting with a migraine for a few hours and I'm planning on getting away from screens for a while. 

**Don't you dare make the obvious joke that I've accidentally set up here. You're better than that.

Quick update while my cupcakes are in the oven...

October's only just started and already I'm a disaster. Which is, I suppose, my way of saying that everything is pretty standard around here! Anyway, I've got cupcakes baking, so let's see what's new...

Last weekend I learned that I am NOT the world's worst bartender, when I volunteered to pour beer at a local fundraiser. Being behind the taps is a great way to scope out all the men coming through and talk to all of them--but only for a moment. Then they have to leave! It's perfect. Also, the guys who work for the beer distributor told me I was doing a great job, even when I made The Face at patrons. (That would be my "no fucks left to give" face.) And when I lied to them. (Ok, so these two old ladies ordered root beer--the brewery also makes their own--and came back up to tell me it was flat. Ladies, that shit just came out of a keg. I made The Face and turned back to the growing line of people. They said it again, so I told them it was brewed that way. I may have said something about "small batch brewing" even though I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS, made The Face again, and then continued pouring beer. One of the beer guys was laughing to himself, so I think that means he heard me. He didn't stop me, though. And by the way, no one complained about the root beer for the rest of the night, so I'm guessing either it was fine or word got around about the whole small batch flat root beer thing.) 

This month I'm in and out of town pretty regularly. I have a couple fundraisers to attend, some family things (but with the fun family members), a conference, and--because it's been so long since I attended one--a wedding. The bride and groom have foolishly and dangerously offered me a modicum of power at this wedding, so naturally I'm pretty excited. At least, I will be excited until they wrest the power away from me after I become drunk from it. 

I can't tell you much about the conference yet, but there is plenty of room for me to make a fool of myself, so that's something to look forward to--for all of you, anyway. 

Since we're catching up today, I thought I'd leave you with a picture. I've been going through bookshelves, trying to get my life in order. (Oh, and also trying to find a job HAHA.) Over the course of this blog, I've accumulated various books about relationships, in hopes that they might prove useful in my writing. Most of them are from used book sales and friends who've gifted them. It paints a very interesting picture of my life, particularly if you didn't know about this blog. 

PS--Seeing a lot of new traffic here lately--craziness!--so welcome! Unless you're one of my exes or those ladies who complained about their root beer.

Wedding #3

Yesterday had a high level of suck potential. 

I spent the afternoon and evening at the wedding of one of my cousins--one I grew up with--and the awesome woman who married him. I actually do love them both and think they're a great couple. However, there was all the possibility of Terrible Wedding Things. Obnoxious, long toasts, bouquet toss, having a great many family members in one place asking about your job and relationship status. (Unemployed and single, thank you for asking.)  So I went into the day skeptical and hoping for the best, as with all weddings. 

Yesterday was kind of a backslide for me. Before I left for France, I was just starting to get myself back. I hate that my relationship ending brought out this terrible part of me, but it did. I'd been dealing with it and going to France did a lot for me. It was a wonderful and necessary experience. (Lots to blog about...stay tuned.) Not that it was the escape from home that I needed, but being at summer camp and talking to people who knew me when I was wholly myself and people who didn't know me at all but didn't see all the terrible parts that came out recently and leaving bullshit behind so I could run around outside and play pranks and hang out with cool kids...that was the part I needed. 

It's nice to be back. But yesterday brought out the ugly things again. I just kept imagining these horrible scenarios with my family at the wedding...talking about my failed relationship that, hearing their opinions of my failed relationship...I'll stop there. By the time I got dressed I was steeling myself to be angry. When my dress didn't fit the way it used to, I totally melted down. 

I am not proud of those moments. 

Then I spent the day with my family. They mean well and they're RIDICULOUS in a really awesome way and sometimes I forget that. We ate good food and everyone had a Tom Collins in honor of my grandfather (I learned that was his drink of choice) and danced and there was no bouquet toss and instead of talking about my breakup we ended up talking about setting me up with single men. (Oh yeah...I'm dating now, apparently?) I left there feeling like the person I prefer to be. 

Today found me with an emotional/maybe some gin/dancing/not enough water hangover...which is vastly different from and much better than a straight up drinking hangover. Mostly it means wiped out and fighting off self-loathing, to be honest. I allowed myself to skip working out and instead cleaned. I'm combatting the urge to go back to bed by washing my sheets. Sometimes it's the best you can do. 

I'm trying to do better. 


Stick around for some Paris updates. Here's a preview:

An Explanation.

Remember that time I told you I had been hiding a relationship? 

It was not fun to write that. It took me more drafts than I ever write. I debated even writing it. It felt maybe too soon. But then I realized two things: 1. I like writing honestly here. You guys are a weird little social circle for me. 2. You HAVE to hear this. Seriously. I saved part of the story for a separate post. And that's what brings us here today. 

Things ended because of the silence. He stopped communicating with me. That's probably the shittiest part of it. I fought for him, fought for our relationship, and he gave up on me. Two months of silence, excluding a couple "I'm sorry for being bad at this relationship" texts. 

AND THEN...I got a text that changed everything. 

We exchanged a few messages, where I essentially asked where the hell he'd been. I didn't hear back--but time zones. I woke up that Saturday morning to a reply. 

"I guess I just needed some space." 

I shit you not, internet. SPACE. My long distance boyfriend, literally THOUSANDS of miles and the Atlantic Ocean away, needed space. (He guessed.) 

HOW COULD I GIVE HIM MORE SPACE? After thousands of miles, it's really moot to want MORE space, as far as I can figure. More space than that is...single, right? 

He had two months to come up with an answer--he had to figure I'd ask, right? Because I'm human. This man had two months to formulate his reply and the best he can do is SPACE. That's ballsy. It led to quite the rant in my neighbor's driveway as she worked in her garden. (Yes, I went over and stood there yelling in my pajamas. We're really casual in the suburbs.) 

I never got more explanation. That's the last message I got. 

So I gave him more space.

Confessions.

I have a confession to make.

Last summer, I met a man. I met him at one of the camps I do every summer, while I was in Europe. He’s funny and has a great accent and plays awesome pranks. Friendship was fast. I definitely had a camp crush on him. But I don’t have time for that kind of thing.

And then we kissed. (Gross, I know. Bear with.) We kissed and held hands and snuck away for walks at night and had stupid jokes and shared looks from across a room full of kids who had no idea. The only thing better than kissing a cute boy is kissing a cute boy who makes you laugh. But I was leaving, and that sucked. It sucked every time I thought about it. As I got on a bus to the airport I tried to say goodbye and he told me he had feelings for me. He broke the “we don’t talk about feelings” rule we’d quietly established. He had Feelings and I had to get on a bus. But his Feelings made my Feelings ok, so I texted him from the bus and I didn’t realize how much I’d started when I kissed him.

We didn’t decide that we were going to try a relationship, because we didn’t really have a choice. We were in a relationship and he was my boyfriend and we were making plans. It was going to be hard but not trying was even harder. I could let him be a part of my mess because he wanted to be. 

I went to see him in the winter. I was anxious on the plane, about to see this man that I had Feelings for, in real life. I was so used to seeing him through a screen. He’s tall. Tall in a way I’d nearly forgotten. We did couple things. We went out and celebrated the new year and he tried on new jackets and bought the one I liked best. We took stupid pictures and cooked and remembered how it felt to be in the same place. He made me happy.

We made more plans. We skype-met family members and best friends. We talked about places we should visit. He called me late one night (late for him…time zones are one of the worst parts about long distance relationships, other than the actual distance) and told me we were getting a dog. It was silly and he might have been drunk but it was all part of this thing we’d created and I loved it.

I loved it so much that I let myself forget that things end. Despite everything we’ve talked about around here, I forgot. I forgot that people leave you.

He stopped talking to me. Stopped answering my messages. Every attempt I made to contact him was met with total silence. So I stopped trying. I was suffering an overflow of feelings because I had no idea how to feel. It was two months of silence. For a while I wasn’t even sure if he was alive, but hoping his family would call me if something was wrong. We finally had three short text conversations, days apart. (I’ll save that for another day.) I was left without answers, crossing a trip together off my calendar.

I don’t know what happened. I’ll probably never know. But I do know that I deserve better. I’d rather be alone than this. I’ve been slowly removing evidence of him from my life. Things went in a box. I changed my facebook status. I don’t need two time zone clocks on my phone anymore.

I know telling you about all of this must be surprising. It goes against everything we’ve talked about around here for so long. It felt weird to not tell you, but I set certain rules for myself when I started writing this blog, and I’ve been pretty good about upholding them. Also, the Long Distance aspect totally set this apart from other relationships. You’re not alone!!! but you’re alone. It’s not like I was having regular, smug makeouts and then coming here and telling you all how much I hate seeing couples make out. (EVEN THOUGH I DO.) It's hard to tell you this because it's hard to tell anyone. It comes dangerously close to talking about feelings. It's shitty to talk about. And it's shitty to go to your ex-boyfriend's wedding while all this is happening. But we're into the honesty thing, right? 

So…it’s time to get back to our roots. I’m fastidiously avoiding trips to Sad Town, where Adele is the queen and Hallmark movies are too much to take. Instead I’m living comfortably in Angry. It’s a lot of Ke$ha and P!nk and vengeful T@ylor Swift. (Girl, you should consider that name change.) It’s a lot of rage-fueled workouts and yes, ok, a few peanut butter cups, you don’t get to judge me, and that’s all WAY EASIER to deal with than Sad Town. So let’s move on and complain about PDA and the wedding bouquet toss. You with me?