Growing up...

When I was younger I always thought that growing up would be this amazing adventure. If only I were older, if only I were wiser, if only….

Now that I am all grown up, I’m actually none the wiser. I still question things just as much as I did when I was 17. I’m still incredibly unsure of myself and the actions that have taken me to the place where I currently am.

And where am I, exactly? Am I where I thought I would be? In one simple word- No. I thought I’d be bigger, greater, and grander. I thought that I’d be making a difference in the world, impacting it in some way. Instead I feel stuck and frustrated. This isn’t supposed to happen when you grow up. You aren’t supposed to be stuck when you grow up. You are supposed to be able to walk away from anything, go anywhere you want and do whatever you want.

Why is it that I feel just as stuck as I did when I had to go to Algebra with Ms. Roberts everyday for first period for an entire year of high school? Just like back then, I still have to make myself get up and come to this place everyday and I really don’t have a choice.

I miss that dream of my youth. I miss the dream of what it would be like to grow up. What happened to that dream? I need to find a way to get back to that place and dream to find what it is I want to do with my life. Dream to find a way to make a difference and live a complete life.

I need to get back to that place.

My boys...

As much as I love these boys, the things they do drive me crazy. We have Sonny- the sweet yellow lab that doesn't have a clue. And Franklin, the dachshund that is so mischievous he even figured out how to open a bottle of nail polish and spill it all over our tile floor.

Don't let those sweet faces fool you, these boys can drive a sane person crazy any day of the week. Yet, I still love them and cherish them like no other.

paulo nutini.... o paulo

I love the feeling of discovering new music. It's mine, all mine. Mine to dissect, mine to listen to and mine to feel.

Whether it's hearing something that catches my ear and googling it without fear or finding something haphazardly while doing something completely unrelated to music, the feeling I get when I hear the first few notes of something new is somewhat of a buzz.

The later happened to me today. I discovered Paulo Nutini. I have a feeling he wont be just mine for much longer.....

That Second Night.

She was up bright and early, encouraging me to get up. Today was the day of the big game. There are two kinds of people in Florida, those who like the gators and those who like the bulldogs (and those like like the Seminoles but for all intensive purposes of this story, we'll just go with those two.) Although the bulldogs had the obvious advantage of having great colors to work with, being a Florida girl I opted to be a gator fan. That year, I wore orange Bermuda shorts with a white tank top with lace trim. I tied a piece of black ribbon through the belt loops of my shorts and threw on my new black flats bought specifically for the occasion. As usual, I believe I was ready before she was. And I'll just mention now for the record, those damn shoes gave me the worst blisters of my life, but they did look quite cute.

When we arrived downtown we met up with a group of our friends. We found a place to park and set up shop. Downtown was already swarming with people; it was a sea of red, black, orange and blue. It was 11 a.m. and I was making a drink, this was going to be a long day.

We sat around our tailgate area talking about everything under the sun. She and I decided to go for a walk to see what was going on around the stadium. And we got barked at, which you might find kind of odd but in actuality this was just something that bulldog fans do. They bark at gator fans, at one point I wanted to scream, “I’m not a gator fan, dumbass- I’m just from Florida.” But I played along, using my arms to chomp them like a gator. I probably looked like an idiot, but it was fairly fun!

We decided to go find our other friend, he had rented an RV that year and apparently was having more than a good time. When we arrived, it appeared as though they had way too much fun the evening before but that didn’t stop several kids from the Connecticut Crew from playing beer pong and flip cup. By this time it was probably two in the afternoon. How anyone can play any drinking game that early baffles me. We stayed for a bit, had a beer and then split.

This is when I saw one of the funniest things I’ve probably ever seen at a football game. This group of Bulldogs fans decided to count how many denim shorts they could spot. Okay- I’ll admit it right now. Gator fans wear denim shorts, they really do. I wish they wouldn’t- in fact I think all stores should absolutely ban the sale of men’s denim shorts. Men should not be allowed to wear denim shorts, period. Anyways, This group had a poster board that looked much like a science fair project from the 8^th grade set up. It was split into two sides- Gators and Bulldogs. They were actually looking for denim shorts and marking them off on the poster board. I believe that the Gator denim short side was about 50 times longer than the Bulldog denim shorts side. I guess you had to be there to really enjoy how funny it was. I realize as I'm recalling this memory, that it is one of those 'you had to be there' things.

We continued back to where we had set up shop. One of our friends had already passed out. Classic, I thought. He would eventually rally and join us later in the evening but this is when the day begins to get blurry.

This is what I remember of rest the day-
Getting lost and not being able to find my way back to the car.
Cell phone receptions SUCKING because there were so many people downtown.
Getting barked at obsessively, and yelling back in return.
Trying to call her to find out where the hell everyone was.
Finding everyone and buying S.O.S. Spurrier Shirts. I still have mine, Heh.

And finally the last thing I remember, I called Adam. Sure, you may be thinking that was probably okay to do. It was a football day and maybe he was downtown, too? But I didn’t just call him once or twice. In fact, I’m not even sure how many times I called him. I estimate maybe 5 or 6, but deep down inside I know it was probably more.

I stopped drinking late that afternoon and we left to go home as the sun was going down. I looked at my girls and said- we are going out tonight. We are going to go home, shower, throw on a costume and head out to the Ritz. I have no idea what I was thinking, I was exhausted, I smelled and I was still buzzed. But, it sounded like fun.

We got home and quickly got ready. She was Jane of the jungle, our friend was a cowgirl and I was a ballerina. In my half-drunken state I decided it was a good idea to cram my feet into the pointe shoes I hadn’t worn in four years. Again, what I was thinking I’ll probably never know, especially because my feet were already covered in blisters. I called Adam once we got in the car and told him where we were going and he agreed to meet up with us.

We eventually got inside after waiting in line for a while and just as we were mingling with our first drink, he called. He was outside and now the line was twice as long as it was when we got there. I told him I’d go outside and would wait in line with him which is what I truly did intend to do.

When I got outside I saw him right away. Light blue plaid pants, I really old beat up t-shirt that said 'Freeze' and flip-flops. He was so adorable and I was wearing ballet clothes from high school. It was basically a flip flop from the previous night.

He suggested that maybe we go somewhere else, because the line was so long. I agreed- made a phone call to the girls and we started walking. Honestly, I didn’t want to go anywhere because I was dressed up like a ballerina and he was just chillin in his damn plaid pants. We agreed to go back to his place for a drink, he didn’t live too far away. We walked to his truck, and drove back to his place where he made me a vodka tonic. It was yummy and we talked and laughed and played kissy face. I didn’t have my car and we had both been drinking, so he let me borrow a pair of pajamas and I spent the night. The pajama bottoms had little skiers all over them and I still borrow them to this day. Nothing happened that night, and I slept like a baby. The next morning, he did one of the cheesiest things I think he has ever done.

It was Sunday morning and we woke up fairly early. He got up and I was still laying there in bed, thinking about what the hell possessed me to sleep here the night before. But like I said, nothing had really happened but it was just the idea of it. As I lay there thinking, I start to hear music. Oh my god, was that Lionel Richie? And then it dawned on me that it was not only Lionel Richie, he was playing Easy like Sunday Morning. I couldn't help but giggle and smile. Something about this boy was special, and I liked it.

He drove me home that morning and walked me into my place. My room was a disaster from the night before. I had obviously had trouble finding the various pieces to my ballerina costume, and it showed. We said our goodbyes and he left.

I saw him again that night. He invited she and I to stop by for a glass of wine, and we did. We made plans to have dinner that Wednesday- he was going to cook for me and I could not wait. He told me he’d call me Wednesday afternoon to firm up plans, and that is exactly what he did.

That Night.

We had spent the last hour browsing shop after shop in an attempt to find the perfect outfit for a party I didn't really even care to attend. It's always the same old people, same stuffy attitudes, same cliques. Why she loves these things so much is beyond me. I go to people watch, drink a bit and convince her to leave when I get bored.

In desperation to find..something...anything to wear we ended up in Gadzooks. Why exactly we even went into this store is beyond me. They sell cheap t-shirts with really bad slogans on them and horrible juniors clothes. I had crossed the threshhold. I was officially at the point where if I didn't find something soon, I was going to have a meltdown. A green top caught my eye, it was one of those 'I think I'm a slip, but I'm really a blouse' shirts that were ever so popular a few years ago. It was gorgeous green with a cream lace trim and small beadwork on the lace. I knew the beads would fall off by the second wearing but I didn't care. It was cute, cheap and fit me in all the right spots so I went with it. At the time I had this reddish colored short hair and the green worked perfectly.

She had been telling our friend about this guy that she had to meet. She thought they'd be perfect for eachother. She had met him at another event the week before and thought he must be right for someone she knew. And in theory, our friend really did need to meet someone nice so it should have worked. I thought nothing of this guy, I was already a dating mess. The culmination of many back to back long relationships and making the decision that I needed to be single . I had a summer of absolute freedom and fun. I had never been so single in my life and it felt great. Months of singledom was fabulous- why on earth anyone would ever complain about being single is beyond me. Except for the fact that boys are vicious and generally say anything they can to get you in bed and then they'll just forget about you. That part pretty much sucked. But, I was having fun and not looking for anyone in particular.

The night of the party I got ready as usual. I normally finished getting ready long before she did. And that night was no different, I waited for her and played with the dog for about ten, our friend arrived and we were out. In an attept to fit in with the crowd, I borrowed her pearl bracelet at the last minute.

And off we went, arriving at the party fashionably late. The three of us walked through the building and out the back door and down the steps where the band was set up. We mingled and mixed for about an hour or so and I had reached the point of boredom. She had met quite a few people and I felt like the outcast. I had promised not to talk about politics that night, amazingly I actually kept that promise. I expressed my interest in leaving, she agreed. We could not find our friend anywhere. And then we found her, playing kissyface with a boy I had never seen before. Good for her, I thought.... nights like that were always fun. Just as we had met up with our friend and her kissyface partner she said.... oh there he is...there is Adam. At this point she knew that Adam would see our friend with the kissyface partner and that would be the end of that.

When I looked up from the bottom of the steps I saw him, actually you couldn't miss him. He was wearing the brightest orange space suit with DJ style headphones dangling around his neck and to top it all off he had bright white rubber knee boots on. I suppose I forgot to mention earlier that this party was taking place the weekend of Halloween, but was not- I repeat- was not a Halloween party. I looked at him with interest as I saw him standing there gazing over the crowd. She and I left the friend and her kissyface partner behind to go say hello. Conveniently, she had to use the restroom about a minute after we walked up to him. Eyeing the long bathroom line when we first arrived, I stayed behind and struck up a conversation about music. That was my tactic, talk about music or sports and that gets the conversation rolling. Adam had the most peircing blue eyes and tan skin. He was adorable, even if I was a few inches taller than him in my heels.

Within three minutes he asked me if I wanted to walk down to the river with him. Without even hesitating, I replied, "yes." He took my hand, how bold I thought. I followed him through the crowd, stopping to pick up a beer. As we were walking I remember him quoting something from As Good as it Gets. Maybe it was the line about selling crazy someplace else, maybe it wasn't. All I remember is that I laughed and followed him down to the river. We sat on the concrete bank and talked about everything...who we were, what we did, where we were from, our families. I had an actual conversation with Adam, and it didn't involve sports. I had almost forgot what this felt like. It felt good, it felt right.

At this point in my life I was utterly obsessed with "Softlips" chapstick. Being in the wind, the river had chapped my lips and I reached into my purse to find my chapstick, explained my obsession and offered Adam some. I seriously offered a boy chapstick, who does that? I don't know what I was thinking. And this is when I knew that he was special- He not only accepted my offer of chapstick, he kissed me to get it. He leaned in, put his hand behind my neck and right there on the river he kissed me. I got tingles and I couldn't stop. We just sat there kissing.....

She finally found me after an hour or more of looking. She laughed and when I looked up I realized how late it was. The crowd was sparce and it was definintly time to go. Adam couldn't find his ride, they had left him. He lived at the beach, so we offered him a ride home. We took photos in the car on the way back to the condo. I laughed and smiled so hard that night, it felt so good, so right. Once we got back to the condo, we hopped in my car and I took him to his house. He invited me in, and I accepted. His place was adorable- his mom or exgirlfriend must have decorated the place I thought. But he gloated, he had done everything himself. Intersting, I thought.

It was nearly 2 a.m. and I was exhausted, needing to get home and go to sleep. We said our goodbyes and I told him I would call him. Which is what I did the very next day.