Tuesday, December 25, 2012

The First 33 years


Let me start off by saying that I just realized that I am posting this on Christmas day (well, I knew that!), celebrating the birth of Jesus with a blog post that highlights the number of years he was alive on the Earth. What a kawinkydink!

I turned 33 the other day.

If you know me well (or even if you don’t), it would be hard to miss my freaking out about growing a year older; I don’t know what made me absolutely lose it, but I had this image of myself as Princess Jasmine at the end of Aladdin being drowned in the sand of the hour glass as time was rapidly running out.

Running out of time to do what?

I realized that I had been comparing myself to where other people are in their lives. Freaking out because my friends from college would not stop having kids and there is no way I would be able to catch up with them. At the rate I am going, I am going to be paying these kids to babysit my own when the time comes.

I don’t know when it happened, but I suddenly felt that maybe my life hadn’t amounted to much because I still didn’t have a husband and kids to show for it.

And that. Is bullshit.

I woke up Saturday morning and I didn’t feel any different. I was still pressed snooze 87 times before I crawled out bed and into the shower. I still turned on the radio and jammed out as I threw on jeans and a t-shirt and my old beat up Tom’s. I still frantically packed my car knowing I was supposed to be on the road to get home for the holidays.

I was still Lainie.

So yes, while I am not at a place I thought I would be, I am still me and I am still in a good place.

33 isn’t old.

Though I don’t have a husband and child, I have had a pretty kick-ass first 33 years and I have plenty to show for it:

  • I have made countless cross- country road trips awesome (just ask my friends Olive and CJ!)
  • I was Senior Vice-President of the Science and Environmental Club my senior year of high school…way before going green was cool.
  • I ran a successful inner-city after-school program
  • I ran a successful inner-city summer camp program
  • My mom calls me a “travel monger.” She says “have ticket will travel” should be my motto because I will visit any city even if I don’t know anyone in it!
  • Though I am a huge klutz, I walk effortlessly in stilettos.
  • I can run for a city bus in four-inch heels with out falling!
  • I have completed seven marathons and counting.
  • When I found my self pregnant and scared ten years ago, I made a decision for life that I am sure my son and his adoptive family thank me for everyday.
  • Ralph has style because of me and even though he is in a seminary, it must kill him to think of me when ever he receives a compliment on his look.
  • I am a loyal friend and I only know this because I have countless people in my life that have my back if I ever need them.
  • I am 20 pounds lighter than I was when I turned 32!
  • Thirteen 9 and 10 year olds can effortlessly recite the days of the week in Spanish and know they are special because of time spent in circle time when I was their pre-school teacher.
  • I have my own fan-page on Facebook
  • Catholic teens in Terre Haute are more open to discipleship because as I found out this summer, I taught them that “Catholic” is a verb…without either of us realizing it.
  • My 2-year old nephew and 6 and 14 year old brothers hold vigil by the front door and call every fifteen minutes when they know I am on my way home, just because they want to see me. I am so loved.
  • I use the phrase “make it happen” like Tim Gunn uses “make it work” because I believe that I can and if it is in my sphere of influence or control, I prove myself right.
  • I have been rocking a natural since before Macy Gray and her raspy voice made it socially acceptable.
  • I let my freak flag fly so proudly that my brothers don’t mind being seen as different. In fact, they wear it as a badge of honor knowing what others deem “weird” will be awesome when the time come and they will be ahead of the curve.
  • Two children in need have new shoes because I buy Tom’s. (Well, I have actually only bought one pair, but they have been on their last leg for quite a while and my sister Stevie bought me new ones this Christmas and is begging for me to burn the old ones.)
Out with the old and in with the new! Please take note of the buttons, they are  for both fashion and function as they are a super cute way of covering up holes. I also didn't realize that my shoes weren't gray anymore...

  • Teen convicts don’t scare me as much as they should because I spent six years doing juvenile prison ministry.
  • What most people would reject as fashion “don’ts” prove to be fashion forward because when I wear it, I just act like it looks good.
  • I have started more parties than I can count.
  • Because of my loud obnoxious laugh (that has since been tamed…mostly), Adam Sandler stopped a press conference to make fun of me and took time to meet me afterward. I have a picture to prove it and everything!
  • When I was 20, I met Julie Andrews and took the opportunity to tell her how much she meant to me. I told her that I watched “The Sound of Music” almost everyday while doing my homework and that she inspired me to pursue musical theatre in college. Even though I am sure she’s heard it before, she thanked me so politely and it felt great to be thanked. I will never stop being grateful when receiving a compliment and even though I had been taught manners by my mom a long time ago, Julie Andrews reminded me of its importance.
  • My family includes young men I used to serve when I worked in a group home a while back. It means so much that I can still check in with them and see how their lives have turned out. One of them just turned 21 and he won’t let me forget that I owe him a beer the next time I am DC.
  • On my birthday, I ran into my high school boyfriend and he told me that I was the one that got away and he still loves me. I had to remind him that it has been a long time since we were 18 years old and I don’t (or care to) remember 18 year old me and he really should move on. I feel bad, but as someone that knows how to hold a torch for someone, it felt good to know that someone was holding a torch for me. The fact that he has been holding it for fifteen years makes it a bit awkward, but we don’t have to mention that…
  • On my 22nd birthday, I got the best news: I had been accepted into an AmeriCorps program called City Year! I spent 2002 serving high school students on the west side of Chicago and even though I was young and full of naïveté, I know I made a difference.  I learned so much about myself and others because I allowed myself to be uncomfortable (in a healthy way) for probably the first time in my life. That experience stretched me in so many ways and looking back, I would probably be a holier than thou dud today had I not been challenged then.
  •  My sense of adventure has allowed me to grow. I have always had a desire to go off the beaten path and though it sometimes may result in twisted ankles, it always results in my learning how far I can push myself and of how much I am capable.
  • I can’t help but serve others and make new friends. I always leave mission trips (domestic and international) with new friends that have made their way into my heart and am always blessed to know that they have improved my life more than I could have hoped to improve theirs.
  • My life is lived as if I busted out of the box. Others find it impossible to pigeon hole me into a category as I can’t be described as any one thing. I mean come on; I am a black girl from the city that lives for country music! I have said it before that I am equal parts Ch-Cha DiGregorio and Patty Simcox. On any given day I can be Carrie, Charlotte, Samantha or Miranda and on a good day I am all four!
  • My sign language skills, though they are limited come from four summers of working at a camp for adults with special needs almost nine years ago. Some of the relationships I made there have become the most important in my life. I was maid of honor in CJ’s wedding, a sponsor to Lisa when she was confirmed in the Catholic Church, I still check in with Kim, a high functioning camper, through letters. Seth is my son’s father and CJ drove like a mad woman from college to be by my side when I gave birth.
  • I love myself. Though I struggle with this sometimes, it is true 95% of the time. This was a hard one feat that I was sure I would lose as self doubt was often in the lead showing its dominance through eating disorders and self mutilation, but in the end I was victorious. Before I moved to Terre Haute, I was at a funeral where I saw old friends from an incredibly hard time in my life and they could not believe how healthy I was and how much I had grown. It was the first time I saw how screwed up I was. Instead of seeing the tired look in their eyes as they prepared themselves for dealing with my crazy and attention seeking behaviors (me? Never!), I saw relief. Then joy. Though we were together for the first time in years because a sad occasion, I was glad to be there for them to see me as I am now. Not many people win a battle as fierce as mine or well as I did, but I made it happen. I am so blessed and so proud. And I love myself.
33.

That is how many years it has taken me to become me: super blessed and super awesome.

The first 33 years of my life though they have had many disappointments and heartaches, have not ceased to be amazing and I welcome the challenges that are to come.

I am glad for where my experiences have brought me and I can’t wait to see where I end up when I turn 34 whether I am married or not…I just may need to be reminded of that from time to time.


Thursday, December 20, 2012

The Andy Series, part 7


12.20.2012
Trix told me that I shouldn’t unfriend Andy on Facebook.

She reasoned that if I happen to cross paths with him again (which is entirely possible), I would have to do the awkward re-friend. So I will just have to restrain myself from checking his page to see what he is up to and wondering why he hasn’t called.

Though I may never see him again, I am very glad to have met him and that we had that weekend.

Andy really changed things for me: I have to be beautiful to the man I end up with. I can’t shake the way Andy looked at me, I still feel the blood rush to my cheeks when I think about the way he looked at me.

I don’t know if he got anything out of the experience or even thinks of me.

Or if he has a blog where he’s written “The Lainie Series” where he berates himself for being  too chicken shit (or too stunned by my awesomeness) to call.

All I know is that I will be fine. Sister Felicia says that I am always fine, I just don’t know if I will ever be OK.

This is getting hard, but I am going to take time to really be at peace with my seat in life for the moment.

Eventually, everything will be OK. 

The Andy Series, part 6


12.18.2012, 1133p
Andy is an asshole.

I am well aware of how difficult a time this must be for him, though I am sure a text of acknowledgement of my phone call or even the fact I sent cookies couldn’t be out of the question.

Sassy was super supportive and let me unload my frustrations about everything and I realized that I am not really angry with him; I understand that life is hard, but I am disappointed in him because this is kind of shitty and not at all like the Andy I met three weeks ago.

I really want that Andy to call. 

The Andy Series, part 5


12.17.2012, 927p
I hadn’t received a phone call from Andy yet, so I checked the delivery confirmation the minute I got home and found out the package was undeliverable (no apartment number L) and now the cookies and the CD are on their way back to Terre Haute. Sad that he won’t get the cookies, but kind of glad he won’t be hearing One Direction from me anytime soon.

I called him (I know, that broke my rule—but who are we kidding, I am a rule breaker!) and there was no answer so I left a message telling him that he is missing out on my Christmas cookies and I hope that he is having a great Advent. I tried so hard not to ramble and I am sure that I did. At least I didn’t pull a Monica and say “I’m breezy!” at the end of the message.  I don’t know if he will call back, but he has until this time tomorrow not to be declared an asshole.

I will let you know what happens.

The Andy Series, part 4


12.14.2012
Yea, so this is awkward…

I was in the shower and One Direction’s “You Don’t Know You’re Beautiful” came on and I got excited (because, yes, I channel my inner teen far more than anyone should care to admit) and I thought about Andy and his possibly getting his package today.

I put that song on his CD to put a smile on his face because it always puts one on mine.

And then I heard the words.

Yea…I am pretty sure that I am not going to be getting a phone call anytime soon.

I am also trying so hard not to anticipate his reaction when he gets my package. I check the delivery confirmation every chance I get and still nothing. I just hope that it gets there soon enough so the cookies don’t get super hard.

The Andy Series, part 3


12.12.12
I baked him cookies and sent them with a CD I made.

Before you call me crazy, I told him that I would when we were at dinner the last night of the conference and I was simply following through.

The CD was extra, I just thought he would want some pick me up songs and encouragement.

I just hope he doesn’t think I am weird and a stalker.

The Andy Series, part 2


12.07.12
I decided to put Andy on hold for Advent (you know, waiting in the Lord and all) and not obsess over the fact that he hasn’t called me or acknowledged me in any way.

I bet you any amount of money he got home and came to his senses.

I knew it, I just knew this would happen!

Of course.

Of course I am not that magical to completely make him forget his crap and decide to make something happen with me.

I don’t know how I always manage to find myself in these situations.

Sulking won’t fix it, I just need to be at peace with all of this and move on from this experience.

There is a reason we crossed each other’s paths, I am not sure what it was, maybe I needed to know what it was like to have someone call me beautiful and maybe he needed someone to hold his jacket on Saturday night,

Who knows?

12.2.2012: The Andy Series, part 1


So, this is complicated.

I met a guy while I was at my work conference. Of course I did, right? I am always meeting guys and inevitably they don’t work out and I am left questioning God’s plan for my love life and crying about my bad luck…all over a boy that turned out to be a bullet dodged.

I am hoping that Andy will be different.

I met Andy on my second day in Orlando while I was doing karaoke and he seemed nice, but I figured that he was married. He had that married look about him (you know the one) that, and the fact that 99.9%of the men in my field are married. I just went on with my night and saw him at breakfast and our first session. He was sitting alone when I walked into my first session and I called him over in my Lainie way (proclaiming loudly that he should join us) and he had no choice but to plop down next to me.

He was in both sessions with me that day and he seemed cool, laughed at all of my cheese ball jokes and kept paying me compliments and he kept calling me “24” like that was my name. And he made it sound accusatory like I stole the number. I was confused by this, but whatever.

Throughout the day, I kept thinking he was awesome (and attractive) and we definitely had a connection, but this guy looked super married and he didn’t have a ring (I checked-single girls always check).

We had great day although there were times when he would look like something was getting him down, but more than that, it was like his mask would slip every so often and he would have to readjust.  All I could do was pray for him.

When we went to dinner as a group later that night we made conversation to and from the restaurant and that was when he told me about his recent divorce. Like a month ago recent.

See? I knew he had that married look about him!

Once again, I've mistaken my feeling an actual connection with my uncanny ability to build rapport with just about anyone combined with his being attractive. I have been told that I am just one of those people that others feel instantly comfortable with, as evidenced by the fact I now know the main details surrounding his divorce.

I had to keep reminding myself about this every time I felt we had an actual connection, especially when he exhibited relief at the fact I was in fact 32 and not 24. Which helped me understand the odd nickname, but confused me when he said “32 is much better for me. So much better that 24.”

 I just continued on with whatever story I was telling and tried not to feel awkward  (or blush) because of his comment that I am sure everyone heard. The subject was changed and someone asked how long I’ve been in Terre Haute and I replied “15 months.” They inquired about what it was that made me move here from the city and I gave my generic answer that God wanted me in Terre Haute and circumstances presented themselves that made me ready for something new,

Yea, they could tell there was more to the story, so we kept talking, and I am not sure how it came up, but Ralph came up (master diggers they are) and they asked how long he’s been in the seminary and I replied “15 months.”

 That moment of awkwardness was short-lived because the most awesome thing happened.

We saw him. The Dude!

I mean, it wasn’t really Jeff Bridges, but it might as well have been. This guy, without even trying, made me want to pay for his rug! Instead, I bought him a White Russian.

I ordered it, walked up to him and said “Excuse me, Mr. Lebowski. Here’s your White Russian,” smiled and walked away.

It was pretty awesome if I do say so myself.

He laughed, told me that had never happened to him before though plenty of people have commented on how much he looks like The Dude. He told me he would never forget it and how cool it was and then Andy took our picture.

Our night pretty much kept being awesome after that. I was just being me, not worried about how intimidating I seem to some guys or trying not to seem too much like one of the guys. I was just Lainie.

And Andy wasn’t going anywhere. He kept making comments about how awesome I was which I am used to…not in a conceited way, but in a way that I can keep up with boys on just about anything and it is pretty awesome. Most guys’ awe ends there and they deem me a “good friend” much to my chagrin. Even though I was really liking Andy, he was not in a place to start dating anyone and I just can’t keep putting myself in the position to get my heart broken.

I kept reminding myself of this and saying that we are just friends and once this conference is over I won’t have to talk to him anymore or see him…until he kept blatantly suggesting that I come to Ohio to see him and making comments about how perfect I was for him.  

That part was hard.

Here he was this incredibly attractive guy that wasn’t afraid of my Lainie-ness and if I am not mistaken, it endeared me to him.

He seemed like the perfect guy for me too, but the timing was off.

When we said goodnight, he stalled making small talk then stating how beautiful my eyes are and how he was getting lost in them (pretty sure I got butterflies). I felt the heat rush to my checks because I could not believe how forward he was being and how there was no way he was ready to have this conversation with anyone. Let alone me.

I tried to say goodnight and he insisted on walking me to my elevator stating the lobby was “unsafe.” (Yep, butterflies)

He ended up riding to my floor with me  and I didn’t know what to expect and we’d been drinking so I  was kind of nervous and all I knew was that I didn’t want anything to happen…maybe. All I did know for sure was that I have plenty of room in my heart for love and new friends, but I don’t think my heart could take it if I was a rebound. I’m better than that and so is he.

He was the right guy at the wrong time.

And if I have learned anything from all the books I have read on dating and relationships is that the right guy won’t come at the wrong time.

So I stepped out of the elevator and firmly said good night and said I would see him the next day.

As the elevator door closed, I wanted to tell him to drink water before he goes to bed (I know, it’s the big sister in me), so I texted it to him and went to bed.

I knew the next day would be different, he would be sober and he would have come to his senses.

No such luck.

It wasn’t until dinner time that I saw him again, and when he saw me, he had the weirdest look on his face. It was like he'd seen his first Trans Am, and I had no idea what brought it on, but whatever. 

We had dinner and he kept pushing food on me, I made a crack about him being an Italian grandma and he told me he was part Italian. Then I was all, “Why are you insisting I eat? Do you not think I am OK? Are you trying to take care of me?”

And he said “Kind of like you tried to take care of me with that text last night?” And he gave me the same look from earlier in the evening. This time, I took it in with a stomach full of butterflies.

We talked about how the day went, he asked me about lunch with Sister Felicia and I told him it was good to see her and that  she gave me homework. He already knew about Ralph so I told him she told me that I need to talk to him so that we both could get closure.

Over the course of time (you know, 24 hours), he learned my story just like I learned his (as much as he was ready to tell) and I shared with him theories shared by most (if not all) of our friends that he was running scared to the seminary because he didn’t want to deal with how much he loves me.  And how talking to him will allow both of to move forward and help him be a better priest if he is still being called to that life when the time comes.

Andy asked what would happen if Ralph decided that after we talked, he realized he wanted to be with me, would I go back to him? I did not hesitate when I said no. I explained that I am a very different person than I was 15 months ago and I have been shaped by the hurt and he would have to start from scratch.

“OK, good” is all he said with that same look in his eye.

That was probably the moment that I said “screw it” to being cautious and gave into the fact we were attracted to each other and let myself believe we had an actual connection.

We had a flow the rest of the night.

He was struggling with his jacket and I took it and put it in my tote without his asking, he took my tote and carried it around. We ordered milkshakes for dessert and swapped when we grew tired of our own. He stayed close to me and I stayed close to him. When ever I was too far away, he would make his way over to me and whisper in my ear “the Dude abides” and we would laugh.

He even demanded that I come to Ohio and told me that I am going to stay with him. I had to draw the line with that one, there is no telling what trouble I would get myself into staying in his apartment.

At one point in the evening we were at the bar ordering drinks and he turned to me with that look in his eye and said “You’re really beautiful, do you know that?” I didn’t know what to say to that. The last guy to call me beautiful was Ralph and he didn’t even mean for me to hear it.

“OK,” I said, “thank you?”

He just kept looking at me searching my face and said “You are. You know you’re beautiful, right?” And I just stood there with what I am sure was a combination of a blank stare and confusion.

I didn’t think I had ever been told I was beautiful before. I mean, I have been told I was beautiful before but it is usually accompanied by a “God made you in his image” sort of way.

Here was Andy, as bold as he could be, calling me beautiful as if it were a fact he was daring me to dispute.

I just enjoyed it, and that silly look on his face that was starting to make me a little bit breathless. It was then that I realized he was looking at me like I was beautiful (or a Trans Am) and he hadn’t looked at anyone else like that the whole conference.

I am still getting used to this whole feeling pretty thing, so I really don’t know what to say when a guy thinks so too. Please note: I have known for a long time about my awesomeness and waited for others to catch up, recognize and be amazed. This legit pretty feeling has only been around for a short time.

I realize now that no matter what, I am unable to be with a guy that doesn’t look at me like Andy does. Like I am so beautiful that he can’t believe how blessed he is just to be looking at me. No. The man that loves me has to look at me like that.

When we finally got around to saying goodbye, the first thing out of his mouth was that I had to talk to Ralph like he was the one who had given me the holy homework. And then we hesitated to say goodbye. We stammered. His hands were on my shoulders, mine were tugging on his jacket and zipping and unzipping it. Then we finally said goodbye and as he turned the corner I called after him “Don’t forget to drink water!” We laughed and he was gone.

I went to bed that night praying that Andy was OK to start whatever he was starting with me and that he wouldn’t get home and come to senses and realize that he wasn’t really ready for all of this or anything.

I fell asleep both worried and hopeful.

When I got up the next morning I rushed to the lobby because I wanted to see him again because his taxi was leaving close to the same as my shuttle and we got to say goodbye again and he insisted that he would be in touch. He was so adamant about it and he hugged me so tight and he got in his cab and I got on the bus.

I spent the whole trip home terrified that he would actually call and even more terrified that he wouldn’t!

I am now officially in wait and see mode.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Flipped


I think my liturgical moods are flipped.

Lent is the best part of my year and Advent is always the most challenging.

I have said this before, in the time we are to be focusing on the death of Christ, I have the least amount of challenges and life hits a stride that doesn't get broken for a while and if it does, something gets me back on track and all is well.

Until Advent rolls around.

I don't know what it is, but I have a hard time feeling that God is near and that the savior of the world will soon be here. Instead, I feel abandoned, bitter, and questioning the love of God.

To be honest I was having a hard time with things before Advent started. There were issues at work and I was rethinking my staying in the Haute until 2014 so it wasn't like I was skipping merrily along and the Advent Wreath of Doom came and slapped me in my face. I can acknowledge that I was already pretty sprained (if not broken) but I was moving along and making it happen and then he threw in the monkey wrench:

I saw Sister Felicia.

Sister Felicia is super famous in Terre Haute...among three of my friends. I talked about her and her wisdom all the time when I first got here that I am sure Sassy thinks she knows her just from my stories. She is someone from home and is always so lovingly honest and I would believe and do anything she tells me without question. God knows this and he uses this to his advantage from time to time.

When I saw her across the hotel lobby where our conference was being held, I could not believe it! At this really frustrating time in my life, I manage to see one of my favorite people and that was when I knew. I just felt it in my gut:

My world was going to be shaken up a bit.

I worked really hard not to burst into tears when I saw her. She was a friend! She was home to me! She has known me during major transitions in my life that have taken place over the past six years and I can't hide anything from her.

We had lunch and she let me have it.

She told me everything I knew in the back of mind that God was telling and brought it front and center. She let me cry into my napkin as we talked about Ralph (she knows him too), my life here, that guy I met and am not ready to talk about yet, our friend who died last year and other struggles in my life. 

Before she unleashed me back into the conference world (FUBARed and all), she gave me two "homework" assignments that have a deadline and I am not sure how I am going to deal with them, I don't know if I have it in me to make one of them happen, but I know better: Sister Felicia has spoken.

As I process all of this, rocked world and all, one thing she said has stuck with me. "I'm not worried about you, Lainie. You'll be fine. You're always fine." 

She's right. I always am. (Now I know how the Doctor feels.) Whether it feels like it or not, God is faithful to me and I will always come out fine.

Sister Felicia, I am gonna make you proud!

Bring on the Magnificat, I got this! 

I am ready to make this Advent my-well, you get the point.

I know I can see this through to the end and revel in the birth of Christ when the time comes, I don't know what will come of all of this; all I know for sure is that I am going to wait on the Lord.

If not for that, then why do we celebrate Advent?

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Conference Time!


This post may seem a little off, but there is nothing I can do about it.

I am coming off a high.

Not a for real high (never have done drugs in my life), but almost a retreat high.

Sunday night I returned from what has had to be the best conference of my professional life. Every keynote speaker was amazing (that never happens), every last one of my workshops was fantastic and I feel that I learned so much that I HAVE to take back with me and implement in my job. I have been talking about it non stop and I think Sassy is way too nice to shout at me to “shut up already!”  So this will be the last you hear of the PD benefits…maybe.

Wednesday was my first night in Disney and I was so sad that I was going to be missing karaoke with my girls for the second week in a row and I was wandering around our hotel gift shop trying to figure out what I would do with the rest of my night. It was only 9 pm and I was about to surrender to being old and just go up to bed when I heard some one mention karaoke.

My ears perked up and I had to know where. Once I found that out, I made my way to the sushi restaurant in the resort. Something I should have known, the Japanese have to know how to start a karaoke party!

I have never been so wrong in my life.

The petite small voiced girl playing KJ was putting forth what I am sure she felt was a huge effort in getting people excited and signed up to sing and she was failing miserably.

It was the saddest moment in the Happiest Place on Earth

You have to know, if I go to a karaoke night by myself, I want it to be dead and awkward. When I go with others, they expect me to start the party and I have to sing songs that do just that. Please understand that no one puts a gun to my head and makes me sing “Proud Mary” or an equally fantastic tune, I just know what’s expected and I give the people what they want!

I had the opportunity to sing ballads all night long; no matter how much they bored people, no matter how much they may to complain. I didn’t have to see them anymore in my life.

I finished singing Norah Jones and all of my hopes were dashed. Someone Annette introduced me to in the lobby came in and he invited me to sit with others from a different branch of our company and I accepted.

My name is Lainie Mac, and I am a compulsive party starter.

I had to, there were people there and they deserved a good karaoke night! So I sang Proud Mary and did the dance, pulled a foreign business man on stage and made it happen for an ever grateful KJ.

The night went on and we had a blast and I started to get pulled on stage by others, sang more songs and danced in encouragement of other performers. We decided to head out and smoke cigars and I was just gonna leave, but the KJ wouldn’t let me! She asked me to stay for one more song and she was gonna put me next so I agreed and chose “I Want You to Want Me” by Cheap Trick.

Before I was up, she announced that I would be leaving (collective groan) and announced my last song. Everyone cheered and sang along and I got hugged on my way out the door.

I had a great conversation with the gentleman I had cigars with (I know, I am totally one of the guys no matter how much I try not to be!) and I got some great career advice along with resources. Believe me, the cigar breath I have for the next five years of my life was well worth the amount of good networking that time outside did for me.

I ended up hanging with them the rest of the conference and I barely saw Annette even though we shared a room! I attracted the attention of (another) 24 year old and I worked super hard to create an appropriate boundary because I have accepted that 24 is just too young! (Yes, I realize I was singing a different tune two months ago, but I now realize that I dodged a bullet with Brad so back off!) Anyway, Billy is a sweet kid and he was really working it, he actually reminded me of Ralph when we first met six years ago with a lot of the same mannerisms. I ran into my old friend, Sister Felicia while I was at the conference (super random, but awesome!) and she got to meet him and thought the same thing!

Not only do I have a type, but my type has me.

Every attempt I made to shake him never worked, he wasn’t even deterred by another guy entering the picture, and he just worked harder.  I didn’t know what else to do but remind him of his age and mine in conversations. (“Great weather we’re having isn’t it? I’m 33 and you’re 24). Yes, I realize I still have 18 days until I turn 33, but it was best that I round up for this situation.  We were having a great time and I really enjoyed hanging out with him, but he would get all moony-eyed and I was reminded that I am a magnet for younger men.

It is so hard to be me.

We ended up on the same shuttle to the airport and we sat together and cracked each other up and when the other guy and I were texting (not gonna talk about him now, maybe another time…or not) he called me on it and point blank and was all “why don’t you just marry him already?”

Real mature, Billy.

I just sighed and gave him my undivided attention because he had been calling me on my attachment to my phone all conference. (I was just missing CeeCee, Prue, Trix and Stacy and I didn’t want to be out of our Facebook messaging loop.) I figured we have had a great time and even though I was not going to fall in love with him anytime soon, I might as well maintain the friend I made and not piss him off in the next 30 minutes. It might make the transport awkward.

I was on such a conference high as well as preoccupied with some of the things that happened while I was in Florida that it really didn’t even faze me when Mona didn’t start when we got to the parking lot or even when she and I got a speeding for barreling down Ohio Blvd. later that night!

Now that I am home, I realize that conference and everything I experienced was definitely the second best thing about my year (the musical still holds the top spot!). I got to meet new people and experience new things and even cross something off my bucket list: on Friday morning, Billy and I were part of a flash mob!!

When we asked, we were so excited and we were trying to act normal before it started and we were definitely off on some of the moves, but we had a blast and I will never be able to listen to "Some Nights" the same way again.

Another benefit if the conference is that it challenged me to want to make my job work. Which means I might be staying in Terre Haute for a little bit longer and I am not sure about how I feel about that at the moment.

It drives me crazy (and blesses me) that God always knows exactly what I need and when. This conference was one of those things.

There was so much more that happened in between the party starting, cigar smoking, workshop attending, flash-mobbing and heart breaking that I am working on sharing with all of you, I just need a little more time to understand it all myself. And when I am ready, I imagine it will take some time to tell the tale.

Just know that I had a fantastic time and I am feeling a combination of blessed and frustrated which we all know means that God’s working on something in my life so I am just going to have faith, and maybe another cigar.




Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Watch What You Wish For


So I did it.

I called him.

It was yesterday after my date with CeeCee at the McDonald’s in Sullivan (believe me, that is all there is to do in that town) and I didn’t have to work my call-in shift at the mall…mostly because I put pressure on the closing manager to let me have a love life.

Everything was in place for Chaps and I to go out because after a midday text fest, he told me he was free and I told him that I may have to work. He was quick to say that he would come visit me if that were the case and of course I was super giddy.

So I made it happen, I called on my way back from Sullivan to tell him I didn’t have to work and to see what he was up to and it turns out he was already out to dinner with two of his girl friends. I was bummed until he invited me to join them and took him up on his offer.

When I arrived, I thought I had the wrong restaurant.

He didn’t look how I remembered. Despite the fact we sent each other pics the other night (and he looked just fine then), I was surprised that he looked nothing like the cowboy I remembered. He was a bit, umm…larger than I remember (hope he wasn’t thinking the same about me!) and he was wearing regular clothes (that were a little snug…and not in a good way) this time.  He also wore a black Nike cap perched on the top of his head and tilted slightly to the left…perfectly accented by the two very large cubic-zirconium (at least I hope) studs in his ear.

Chaps had been replaced by the love child of B-Rad from Malibu’s Most Wanted and Cameron from Modern Family

This was more than that awkward moment when the guy you met at the bar isn’t as cute as you remember; it was that awkward moment when you realize the guy you met at the bar was probably gay. More than that, he was ghey-tto

Flashback to 2011: When I first moved here, there was a guy I was crushing on big time we got along really well and I gave him my number. We talked a few times when I first moved here and I tried to get together and it never happened. For some reason he wasn’t interested at all and I was kinda bummed…until I found out he was gay.

If I was correct about Chaps, this would make twice. Twice my gaydar has malfunctioned.

I was a bit confused by this initial thought, but then I sat down and started conversations with the girls who were there with him. Darcy has been his friend for ten years and she’s from my city! She and I have the same accent and it was really great to talk to her. Darcy seems like a really nice person and she has a really pretty face and a great personality. Selma is about ten years older than me and she seems a bit, well…rough. You can tell life has not always been a picnic for her and she has just the right amount of bitterness and good humor to make a good (not sloppy) drinking buddy.

These are the kind of women that love gay men and gay men love them right back.

Yes, I realize it is not fair of me to assume things of Chaps based on my experiences and the state of my previous reality from the time I left it fifteen months ago; I just don’t know how I could be wrong about this.

He is also a major over-sharer. I learned more about him than I should ever know about anybody once I meet them for the first time.

Or ever.

Darcy would sometimes preempt a story by asking him “Do you really want to tell this story right now?” and he would think better of it. Based on the things I was already privy to, I am slightly afraid of the stories he did not tell.

As our conversation continued (I didn’t get a word in edgewise. Me? Not get a word in? Rare), I started to notice what he said and how he said them like how he called his brother “trash” and  his incredibly flamboyant mannerisms (I am pretty sure he gave something two snaps up), his love of brands (he called his wallet his “Coach”) and bitter commentary on life. Not to mention the fact he did go to beauty school…so he could do hair with his grandmother.

This man has to be gay.

I felt like I was in a crossover episode of Punk’d and Invasion of the Body Snatchers. I did not know the person sitting next to me at all.

What. Happened?

What happened to the attractive guy I have been texting for the last two weeks? He is hilarious, considerate, let’s me talk and share’s appropriate amounts of information about himself. I really like him.

After dinner all of us went to his place for drinks (I made sure to call friends to let them know where I was going) and I got to know Darcy and Selma a bit better. They are pretty cool girls. I really like Darcy; she seems like someone I would be friends with on my own. It might just be the city connection (even though she is a Sox fan), but she seems really genuine and tough really great qualities in a friend and fellow city girl. Selma is nice and she does have a good sense of humor. 

The conversation was fine we listened to 80’s music, laughed, told crazy stories while I sat on the couch with Darcy and he shared the love seat with Selma. He didn’t even try to sit next to me (or come to think of it, pay any attention to me). I was OK with the seating arrangements, it gave me a chance to observe him playing with his cat (a boy cat who donned a blingy silver color and a fur cat toy fashioned into a boa) while I was working to figure out a way to make just Darcy and Selma my friends without it being awkward. Throughout the course of the night, I was starting to be on the fence about his alleged gayness and then I had to go to the bathroom.

This was what I found on the edge of the tub:

I have no doubt that this was there on purpose. On. Purpose. I don't even have a decorative vase of fake flowers in my bathroom! I had to whip my phone out and text CeeCee and Prue about it. I had been keeping them in the loop about my suspicions and they had to know about progress on my end. CeeCee was helping me interpret the “signs” (she asked if he had #chaps-swag—all the girls think Brad is gay) and being a cheerleader while Prue was doing some detective work. Terre Haute is the biggest small town in America; someone was bound to know something.

It was getting late and I had to get home to pack for a work trip (in Orlando!), but we were in the middle of a conversation and I needed to find an out when I don’t know how it came up, but I told them I named my car Mona and Chaps was all “You name your car?” in a tone of voice that insinuated how weird he felt that was. And I promptly responded “You think that’s weird? You have a boy cat that is wearing a blinged-out collar and a feather boa!” The girls laughed and he got up and said “Oh that’s nothing,” walked into the hall closet and that was when it happened:

Chaps came out of the closet…holding a hanger with at least 15-20 cat collars on it. They all had varying degrees of fanciness and bling, but when he pointed out the Ed Hardy one; I knew it was time to go.

I said my goodbyes, thanked him for the invite and practically ran to my car so I could call Prue.

What the hell?  How did I read that all wrong? I thought he wanted a girlfriend, not another girl to add to his gay harem!

I told Sassy the other day that this all felt too easy. How we met, that he was not afraid to be bold enough to sing that song and make the first move. Yep, too good to be true.

Turns out he is most likely a gay man without a filter.

I shouldn’t be surprised; of course every man in my life has to be gay or a priest.

To be fair, I did have a friend all through college that was extremely effeminate and overweight so everyone assumed he was gay…even me as I was one of many girls he befriended. He made the best shopping buddy, bitter commentary buddy and show tunes singing buddy a girl could want, there was no reason to think he was straight so we all just waited patiently for him to figure it out for himself. Fifteen years later, he is still all of those things minus a hundred pounds and no one really gets the gay vibe anymore.

On the way to the airport this morning, I was wondering if that was the case with Chaps.

 I was telling Annette that somewhere in this person I met last night was my original Chaps and maybe, just maybe I should give him another chance. I mean, when I got home and was finishing up packing he texted  to check in and we slipped into our easy banter and humor and I almost forgot how odd the night had been for me.(If all else fails, we could just have text. I can’t be the first girl to use a guy for what he could do with his thumbs.)  That was when Annette ushered me back to reality and said “You could be right about finding that guy you know, but he will still have that cat.”

Right. The Cat. He was super devoted to that cat. Did I forget to mention the only picture in the whole place (among all of the Party Lite candles) was a framed photo of that cat?

Yea…

“I guess I will have to wait until that cat dies,” I said, “and I don’t have that kind of time.”

“No you don't,” said Annette, “but he’ll just get another cat. He’s got all those collars.”

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Let Me Out! Let Me Out!


This is bad.

I knew this would happen, yet I didn’t see it coming. Now I am stuck here trying to figure out both how I got myself into this and how to get out of it.

I, Lainie Mac, am trapped.

This is no ordinary trap! This one is well crafted complete with compliments, check-ins (he wanted to make sure I made it home OK for the holiday) and Mr. Smiley and all of his cousins.

I am in a text trap.

They always start out saying something like “Hey pretty lady/ beautiful/sweetness,” (giddy every single time) and we communicate about our day, make jokes, flirt, make plans for our trip to New York City I called him on his bluff for that last one and asked him when we would leave to which I got an “umm, idk” and I responded “Tease.”

I didn’t hear from him until the next day.

Working against us are bad timing (I have been busy with work and a class I took in Indy last weekend and he has been sick) and the possibility that he may not be that into me. But I really want him to be…at least long enough to buy me dinner and to make out, of course.

Under the advisement of friends, I have been careful to keep the texting more flirty than friendly or I will get stuck where I have always been…the friend zone. That dreaded awful place where I spend most of my relationships with men and that is about to change.

Once I am free from this trap!

Don’t get me wrong, I am having great text. The most amazing text of my life even, I crack him up, he cracks me up. We are starting to understand each others humor and I don’t have to explain myself or check to make sure he wasn’t offended if I make a joke at his expense. I can tell he actually appreciates my inappropriate jokes. Last night, he was at he boat with a friend and I told him to win lots of money because mama needs a new pair of shoes and he told me he would win me some cash and I responded (maybe a little too quickly) “no ones…I left that life behind” and I got an “lmao” and I am sure he did have to regain his composure on the other end of the phone. He’s starting to call me on my crap like I have started to call him on his. We have a pretty good relationship.

You know, for two people that have never really talked.

Chaps needs to get a move on because the last guy I had a purely textual relationship with got kicked to the curb…after about six months.

33 years old in 25 days Lainie does not have that kind of time.

Also, I am ready to get to know Chaps for real. We barely had a conversation the night we met and the guy I have been texting sounds like a blast and seems confident enough not to be intimidated by personality (or maybe he is and that’s the problem). Either way, I need him to piss or get off the pot. (Wait. Am I the pot in this scenario? I am not trying to get pissed on.)

I am trying to stay even keel about all of this even though I keep thinking of every possible scenario why he isn’t texting me and how I am going to end up alone juxtaposed with planning our wedding and naming our children.

I know, I know, I am a mess.

The key is to successfully grab a hold of Crazy Girl Lainie and lock her away while Rational and Level-headed Lainie figures this all out.

Just one problem: I don’t know where to find Rational and Level-Headed Lainie.

She went on vacay and there is no cell service where she is.



Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Cowboy Take Me Away


I was super late to karaoke last Wednesday night and when I arrived everyone was in a frenzy for two reasons:

One: They had all been calling and texting and I was not answering. I’d left my phone at home and though I knew I would be late to karaoke, I hadn’t known that I would be two hours late. They were about to leave and look for me an Mona thinking the both of us were wrapped around a tree.

And Two:

They had found me a cowboy and they couldn’t wait for me to meet him!

From what I could make out from their excited tones (and frantic pointing), he was tall and cute. He also had a great singing voice and he seemed like he would be a nice guy (yes, but does he love the Lord? A true cowboy would.)

I decided to check him out for myself, he was wearing a cowboy shirt and boots so he definitely looked the part (all he was missing were chaps and the ten-gallon hat) and he was super tall and not a bean pole. I could get with this, but I had no idea how I was going to make this happen.

It was my turn to sing and I sang “Proud Mary” which is a crowd favorite and my aim was to impress and I think by the time I was done, I managed to achieve my goal. All the girls were telling me that I should talk to him, but I refused.

A while back I decided that I was done breaking the rules, I had been trying it my way for years and I am going to be 33 in a month and I am still single. Clearly, my way is not working.

So the night went on, others sang, we had a contest that he and his friends won and I was OK with, I visited with Pocket (I totally stole him from the Pink Sweatshirt Posse!) and enjoyed the rest of my night.

At some point, Prue gave a request to the KJ and he announced that I was looking for a cowboy to sing a duet with (Pocket was immediately ready to fill that role. He’s so loyal to his Black Cher) and the girls were very vocal about requesting Chaps, but he wasn’t biting. I was (slightly) mortified and Trix was quick to explain that my friends love and are looking out for me. Also, that they wanted to one day read a happy blog post.

I was in the middle of arguing that they are not always unhappy when Chaps got up to sing and he said “This songs, for you, Tina Turner.” Tina Turner? I sang “Proud Mary” Tina Turner was me! I didn’t know what to say, so I popped out of my seat and plopped n to a chair in the front as he sang John Michael Montgomery’s “I Could Love You Like That.”

The girls were right; he did have a good voice.
When the song ended, I gave him a hug and thanked him and I swear if I were white I would have been red. I am not used to guys being so forward when it came to me. I usually had to pull that out of them or just go for it myself. I knew that he was checking me out throughout the night, but I thought that he would at least attempt a conversation! I have to say that I liked this way a lot better and I was super giddy and touched that when it was my turn, I changed my song to “Cowboy Take Me Away” and I sang it to Chaps. It was super cheesy and super bold, but I had a feeling that he could handle it and when I was done I just winked and went back to my seat.

When I sat down, I saw Prue hand a slip of paper to our waiter and point at Chaps. “What. Did you just give him?” I asked with a strained voice. All Trix said was “Too Late.” They knew that I wasn’t going to make a move and instead of waiting to see if he was going to step up, they gave my number to Chaps. I was freaking out because now he thinks that I made the first move and all the books say that is a no-no. Then I allowed myself to calm down because technically, he made the first move by singing that song that gave me butterflies (baby ones).

In the frenzy of my thoughts, Pocket got up to sing and made a point of saying “This song is NOT dedicated to Lainie. Clearly she has moved on and I am moving on too!” This was happening around the time Chaps and his friends were getting up to leave and they got a kick out of it and even made a comment about me finding a better man. He also said that he texted me and then he left. I was only brought back into the moment by the fact Pocket was singing “Amazed” to every girl in the bar except me and I was left out in the cold trying to figure out a way to win him back.

As the night was winding down, I was anxious to get home and check my text messages and our KJ gave me the last song and I used it to make Pocket love me again. I started out serenading him with “I Will Always Love You,” but at some point he decided to forgive me for “moving on” and it became a duet.

 As I drove home that night, I was glad to be forgiven (and the reigning Black Cher of Pocket’s life), but way more excited for the text awaiting me at home. First thing I did was dive for my phone to read: “Hey u! It’s Chaps. U are very beautiful.

Squee!

I've heard from him everyday since.

Have I mentioned how much I love my girlfriends?

Monday, November 19, 2012

Marshall, IL. That Is All.


So the girls and I (along with Prue’s boyfriend) went to see Stacy’s boyfriend, Elvis perform his comedy act on Friday night.

Elvis is a freakin’ hilarious comic and he travels all over the country making people laugh at the story of his life. We have been to see him a few times before and we were excited to see him again.

We made our way to Marshall, IL, a town I don’t know much about (except that is near Paris, IL) and as we made our way through the streets of Marshall, we were carefully looking for the venue, a place called The Corner Bistro. We passed Fourth Street and according to our GPS it was on the right and we didn’t see it anywhere, just a dive bar with a Bud Light sign on the front and we were confused. We turned around and looked again and that was about the time that reality set in and we realized the dive bar was The Corner Bistro.

Bistro?

I don’t think that word means what they think it means.

After making our way around what seemed like the town drunks, we entered the “bistro” and all eyes were on us. Well, probably me and Prue’s boyfriend (who is also black). It was then that we all realized (well maybe just me because I didn’t know any better) that Marshall liked to keep things “light” and I was immediately instructed not to get myself into a bar fight.

I should explain, about a month back, Stacy, Prue, Prue’s boyfriend (don’t have a name for him yet…workin’ on it) and I went to Brazil, IN to see Elvis perform (I know, Paris, IL and Brazil, IN…the Wabash Valley likes to stay international). Brazil also likes to keep things light, but they can’t exactly turn the blacks away like they did in the fifties. We have a black president now, no one is allowed to be overtly racist anymore and Brazil, IN (along with Marshall, Il) has to do what the rest of the country does about racism: focus it on the Muslims or just be incognito (OK, disgusted social commentary mode is off).

Anyway, we were listening to the comics (none of whom were better than Elvis) and one of them was a black guy most likely around my age and he was super funny telling jokes about black things and how white people are intrigued by them. I was cracking up because growing up I was usually one of two or the only black going through school and I knew about the White Intrique. Then (of course) he made joke about chicken that sent me over the edge and a woman at the table next to me said “Is that your son?”

I absolutely could not believe it! I know that black don’t crack, but this was kind of ridiculous!

I looked at her and I told her no. Then I said “Do I look like his mom?” She said that I was getting quite animated and thought that it was because he was my son. It was clear that this woman was not right in the head. I mean, what was she thinking? Does she think black girls have kids as young as four or five? I looked at the crazy lady and said “No, he is not my son. He is funny and I am laughing. I also understand where he is coming from because I am black like him,” in the most condescending tone I could muster. That was when one of the guys at her table said “You’re black? I didn’t notice” and channeling Asian Jim I looked at him (possibly with daggers in my eyes) and replied “hats off to you for not noticing race” and turned back to my friends.

I was still annoyed by the woman’s ignorant comments and I was loudly proclaiming this to everyone and Prue’s boyfriend was trying to shush me. He (unlike me) had a healthy amount of fear in him about being a black in Brazil, IN and not only that; he was the darker half of an interracial couple.

The night went on with them being loud and obnoxious and me letting them know how rude I thought they were and Prue’s poor boyfriend keeping his eye on the exit and ensuring there will be a way out when the time came. I am sure if a bar brawl had been initiated, I may have taken them down and then gone to jail so I am glad the evening never came to blows…well, at least the physical kind.

So my friends were justified in their warning and Prue’s boyfriend was right to make sure there was a way out.

Stacy and Elvis were happy to see us and immediately apologetic because they’d gotten word that the show was gonna cost $20. When we see Elvis, we usually don’t pay more than 5 bucks (or at all) so we were a little surprised because despite the name of the place, we were a dive bar (Hole’s Bar Hole is what Elvis named it) that wanted to be a bistro.

In Marshall, IL.

Not Indy.

Most definitely not Chicago.

Somehow, we managed to get a deal at 2 for $30 and we were led into a room that Stacy described as “pole barn meets crack den” with couches that looked like cars and weird red tables that had uncomfortable chairs and glass table tops that I am pretty sure someone was just doing a line of coke on.

Awesome. If the cops bust this place, Prue is gonna have to bail me and her boyfriend out of jail…I am sure we will get blamed for all the crimes.

The show starts and the warm-up act was kind of awful and the sound system was worse than that, but we got through it and Trix gave the sound guy some pointers on reducing the amount of feedback we were hearing--I would think a sound guy would know that…especially at twenty bucks a pop!

The sound never improved (I don’t think my eardrums will ever recover), but the jokes did once Elvis hit the stage and we laughed and laughed.

And laughed.

While we were all having a pretty good time and his set was awesome, we couldn’t help but think it was running a little long but no one else seemed to mind so we just went with it.

At some point the thought occurred to Stacy that we’d paid more than  three times the amount we usually pay to see Elvis’ comedy and we were sitting in a room that was possibly used for the previous night’s rave listening to jokes through bleeding eardrums and he wanted to give us our money’s worth.

How sweet!

I’m pretty sure Stacy fell in love with him all over again.

And I fell very deeply in like.

Since he couldn’t possibly go all night (that’s what she said), the show ended and the comedy club turned into a dance club. The DJ started playing his songs and there were some pretty wicked colorful strobe lights (CeeCee was transfixed and I think it made her the happiest I had seen her all evening…maybe she got some of that leftover coke on the table?)

We on that dance floor acting like we were twenty five and we were stone sober.

The “bistro” didn’t take cards and didn’t have an ATM so we had to use all of our cash for the comedy show.

For real, I don’t think that word means what they think it means.

Despite our sober and cash poor state, we were having a great time on the dance floor. I mean, how often do the people of Marshall get to see an honest to goodness black woman busting a move on the dance floor…and it is not in a movie?

When we were doing the Cupid Shuffle we were doing the kick a little differently (because that’s the way we do it on karaoke nights), I turned to CeeCee and said “I am sure they think that they are doing it wrong because I am black and just have to know how to dance.” I looked up and saw a woman trying to figure out our kick. Stereotypes are awesome.

It came time for the Wobble and I was super excited because I was late to karaoke last Wednesday night and I missed it. When the song started, it was just CeeCee, Stacy, Trix and me doing the dance and everyone around us just watched. I was beginning to think that maybe they didn’t know there was a dance attached to the song they’d obviously heard at least once.

Before long, there were people on the side of the dance floor watching us and practicing before joining us on the dance floor.

Now I know how Elle Woods must have felt when she taught the Bend and Snap to the beauty shop.

I was so proud my friends and I could bring the Wobble to Marshall, IL.

Maybe they will be nicer to black people from now on and Prue’s boyfriend won’t be worried about the exits anymore.

I am always glad when I can aid in changing the lives of small, slightly racists towns.

Especially through dance.

Now I know how Kevin Bacon feels.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Wednesday Nights

So  a group of us from the musical have started going to Cheeseburger in Paradise for karaoke on Wednesday nights. We attempted to go to Show-Me's on a Thursday once and I was kind of scandalized. Seriously! Those girls were dressing like their daddies didn't love them!

It shouldn't surprise you that I absolutely love karaoke! I get to sing my country songs to a crowd that is both surprised and excited that a black girl with a fro would sing Redneck Woman  or Sin Wagon  with abandon.

Prue has made it her mission to find me a cowboy. I am so glad that she gets me.

When we tried it out, it was because there were some underage people in the show that wanted to hang out with us and we didn't have many expectations, but we ended up having a blast.

A seriously awesome time.

I think we might have had a hand in starting the party as I was showing my dance moves from clubbing days gone by and the KJ was definitely impressed...though others were not.

There was an incredibly orange girl and a girl wearing a pink sweatshirt that was pissed. At first we thought that maybe the KJ was Pink Sweatshirt's boyfriend, but then we realized that maybe her and her friends were used to being the stars of the karaoke show that we totally crashed...but in an awesome way.

After a night of being awesome, we decided to enter the group karaoke contest (First-and only-prize was a $25 gift card!). Pink Sweatshirt sang with her friends and well as two other groups, then we got up and sang the finale song from our musical (CeeCee had the karaoke CD in her car!) and included the choreography! The place was going wild which was a surprise because we really thought that based on the reception form Pink Sweatshirt, everyone would hate us!

We knew we had it in the bag, but we still had to wait for everyone else to perform. While the last group was performing, the KJ walked over to us, handed us the gift card and said "Good job guys, when's the show?"

Yea...we were found out, but we still felt amazing!

We went the next Wednesday night all ready to spend our gift card joking about how we would split it between all eight of us when the KJ announced another contest that had nothing to do with music: This time we had to play a game where we guessed the TV show based on pictures.

Those poor contestants, not knowing Lainie Mac is a couch potato.

We won by a landslide and the KJ kept the contest going as a courtesy and made us sit out a round so that one of the teams had a chance to win a free drink as a consolation prize.

Pink Sweatshirt and her friends were not  happy campers even though I am not sure if her friend was red with fury or because her face is so orange, but I do know they were all pissed.

We had enemies the rest of the night, but because I am a grown ass woman and so are my friends, we just had to laugh at her rude looks and comments.

We played the game.

We won the game.

We enjoyed $50 worth of food.

She will just have to get over it.

She has enlisted her friends in hating us and it has gotten pretty annoying. Karaoke is about enjoying yourself and not taking yourself to seriously.

So now every Wednesday night we prepare ourselves for the snark that is to come when one of us takes that stage and we are entertained by their looks of distaste.

Mostly because we don't get it.

We are nice people. We pay our taxes and most important, we just want to have a good time.

So now we have become the regulars to the point where the KJ put me in the rotation before I even showed up last week so the moment I chose a song, I was all set to go.

I love that! I don't think he realizes how much it means for me to have a place somewhere and be a regular somewhere other than daily mass. (Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love getting my Jesus on everyday!)

I love being a part of a karaoke community and I don't care how dorky that sounds! Years ago, when I was a preschool teacher, a bunch of us would go out on Thursday nights and do karaoke at a local bar and just have fun. We all liked each other, we had regulars and people that just popped in and some people sang the same song every week and we loved it.

This is just more of me getting back to my normal...only better (don't tell the Hautian gods, I don't want them to think they've won).

Wednesday nights have become my favorite night of the week I look forward to seeing my girlfriends (and Marcus and Gil) and even the Pink Sweatshirt Posse, because it would just be weird if they weren't there. They aren't all that bad, Prue has a friend that hangs out with them and he's cool. Oh! They also have the most adorable little gay and  I am going to steal him away the very first chance I get. I don't think it will be so hard because he is totally into me.

And why not? I am Black Cher.

Well,  tonight we are celebrating Halloween at our favorite spot and there is another contest. A costume contest. The girls and I are excited and even though we would love to win, we are just going to have fun.

Besides, I won the contest last week and I am pretty sure I may get cut if I win another.













Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Lessons

The other day Lewis messaged me on Facebook.

We hadn't talked in a while and I it was good to see him pop up on chat. I was just kind of worried that he's read my original post about him and all the others that let me get away. He asked how I was and I asked him the same to which he replied : "AWESOME! I am in love!"

It's kind of a safe bet that he had not read my blog. Well, or he was just being an asshole, but he's not a bad guy so I'm gonna go with the former.

We had a nice chat, turns out he brought a ring, asked her parents for their blessing, made a dinner reservation and he is going to propose soon. I could just feel the giddiness as it made its way through cyberspace.

Then I understood. He had good news and he wanted to share it with his friend. Back in the old days, he could not get good news to me fast enough. I was always the first to know and the most excited. This time was no different and I had to smile.

After my congratulations, he messaged me back and said "you are an amazing person, you taught me so much about life, I pray you continue to walk God's path." He then went on to tell me he and his fiancee go to church together, something we used to do and he sometimes didn't see the point. I remember trying to show him the God in everything and asking him to trust God until I was blue in the face and sometimes I thought it would never take.

I am glad to see it finally did.

I found myself thinking about what Lewis taught me. And all I got was football. Football and how to keep score at a baseball game. Not bad things to take away from a relationship, too bad they will ensure I am one of the guys for life.

Sad thing is, Lewis was not my only student.

Thom was my upstairs neighbor and we met July 3rd, 2008. I know the date because I came to find my apartment had been robbed and after the police left, he walked me to the bar not far from our building and bought me a drink...or four.

He and I became friends quickly, we were always at one an other's apartments and we would wait until the other got home and we would spend every moment together until one of us got tired enough to go to our own apartment.

Then we started having sleepovers.

Before your mind goes there, they were legit sleepovers. We just slept in the same bed, not quite like Dawson and Joey (we actually touched), but we weren't "sleeping together." I have no idea how to explain it, but we were in some highly dysfunctional codependent relationship. He was an alcoholic and I was super vulnerable due to both Ralph and Barry drama and I really liked being held.

I knew that we weren't headed anywhere good so I decided that I needed to move and Thom did not take the news well. He yelled, cried, cursed and threw things. I mentioned that this would be a good opportunity for us to get some perspective and we would remain friends...just not as close. He had a hard time saying goodbye and we may have fallen into old ways over the next few months until everything came to a head when he told me that he loved me (I pretended that I only understood it to be just friends and he never corrected me) and then kissed me a month later after a friends wedding.

After the awkward kiss, we (meaning me) opted to hang out in public places and we would take the "L" to our own apartments and eventually we didn't stay in touch as much and blazed our own trail to stability. He really needed to get it together and I always had it in the back of my mind that if he wasn't quite so alcoholic we would actually have a shot, but I wasn't holding my breath.

Good thing too, he just got married and he seems super happy.

How? How did he get stable enough to get married when I was the one who was stable enough to end things? I don't get it and I am sure that I never will.

I was just talking to someone about this and she kind of mentioned that I am the embodiment of that push someone needs to get things together. That as failed and doomed as my past relationships have been, the guys get something out of it that helps them become better.

And I get nothing.

In retrospect, I got sports knowledge from Lewis,sympathy beers and company from Thom and a large bruise on my ass from constantly kicking myself from the five years I wasted on Ralph.

I guess I shouldn't feel so bad, I keeping worrying that there is something wrong with me and I realize that there is something a little too right.

Lainie Mac, here to serve.

Maybe what I get out of it all is the hard lessons to take me into my next awkward and screwed up non-relationship. This is like some weird relationship reincarnation life cycle that will eventually end with me having everything I need in place for when I finally meet "him."

Until that happens, this is my purpose.

I am the girl that takes your crap and sets you up for success with the one you're supposed to be with.
Lewis is getting married to the girl of his dreams.
Thom is married to the girl of his dreams.
And Ralph?
 Ralph is in a major bromance with Jesus.

Yep, I'm just that good.




Friday, October 26, 2012

Girls Night Out...ish


Last weekend Trix and I had a bona fide girl’s night out!

It started at around 10p when I met Trix at the Blu Katt Nightclub where we were going to hear a band that Trix likes. It turns out; it was the Mac Daddys...the same band I drunkenly attempted to try out for on St. Paddy's Day. I didn't think they would remember or even see me, so I still felt safe to go in and enjoy the show.

Well, the band was great, but my night in general was a bit more entertaining.

From the minute we walked into place, guys were checking Trix out, I have been in this situation enough to know that if any of the guys had enough nerve to talk to her, their friend would follow to distract me. (One of my best friends has always been the "hot one" so I know how this works) I just hoped that when the time came he didn't have a horrible mole or incredibly bad breath.

We ordered our drinks, talked about boys and waited for the band to come on while trying not to notice this guy wearing a pastel dress shirt inching closer and closer to Trix probably trying to get a conversation started. He didn't have a friend with him so this was definitely going to tricky so I was curious as to how he was gonna make this happen.

We listened to the band, got up and danced and, of course, I started the party in the nightclub. The band was every bit as good as I remembered from March and we were having a blast.

At the first break, we went back to the bar and ordered more drinks, and then Trix got up to say hello to a friend and Pastel immediately moved closer to me and said "Your friend's cute," I agreed and we struck up a small conversation and it made me tolerate him and I found he was pretty likeable. I found out he was there celebrating with a friend of his that came out to celebrate her divorce (the band announced it. This is Terre Haute, what did you expect?) He had a quirky sense of humor and very subtly highlighted all of the things he really wanted to brag about. He seemed like an OK guy and I was a bit confused about the attention that he was giving me because I was sure that he liked Trix and I was not interested. But whatever, I was happy to have someone to talk to and before long; he nodded over to Trix talking with her friend. "Who's that guy? Is that her friend or her 'friend-friend'?"

Oh. I see. He didn't need to come with a wingman. He was preparing me as his wingman. Well played, Pastel. Well played.



By the time she made her way back over to us, I was prepared to say “Haaaave you met Pastel?” We ordered more drinks, I told Trix Pastel was interested and then she spotted Fastcars.

Fastcars is. Well, I don’t know exactly know how to describe Fastcars, except that he is an insurance agent and he likes Trix and she likes him. The two of them keep having stalled starts and I was out with girls a few weeks ago and saw him out with a trollop carrying a lollipop.

I don’t think much of Fastcars and for the night I was team Pastel.

While Trix and I actively ignored Fastcars, Pastel was making his move and engaging her in conversation. After he bought us shots, Fastcars made his way over.

And that was when the pissing contest began. I decided to enjoy myself on the dance floor while Trix got drenched. I don’t know when, but eventually Fastcars went away and Pastel and Trix started to enjoy themselves on the dance floor. That was around the time I was trying to avoid my one admirer: a large shock-blond lesbian that kept finding her self next to me any time I was on the dance floor.

I don’t know why, but people always seem to think I am a lesbian. CeeCee, Prue and I were just joking about this the other day. I own several Indigo Girls cds, I know all the words to “Mouth,” I have been to a Melissa Etheridge concert…and enjoyed it, considered both being a vegetarian and a small dog mom and even though it is not a Jeep Liberty, I do drive an SUV.

Though I love women, I don’t love women and besides, I get along very well with gays so I can’t possibly be a lesbian.

Shock Blond didn’t know any of this, so while I didn’t have Trix as barrier, she made her intentions known while the band was singing “I’ll Take You There.” She got real close and what I can only imagine what she probably thought was a seductive manner whispered in my ear “I’ll take you there” with the band. I looked at her smiled awkwardly and told her “I prefer to stay here.”

I didn’t see her anymore after that.
Not a lot of time passed before Fastcars swooped in to buy Trix and I another round of drinks, this time I went for a vodka gimlet which turned out to be very strong. I drank it all and was a bit unsteady. Without even realizing it, I had become drunk. Very drunk

All because guys wanted to get with Trix.

I felt like a twenty five year old when the band took their next break. I managed to stumble over to the Mexican restaurant next door and after inhaling a taco dinner and sucking down a bottle of water I felt better about my ability to drive home and annoyed that stupid boys ruined our GNO.

I guess I shouldn’t feel so bad. I did pique the interest of a large lesbian who did offer to “take me there” and there was a gentleman that went by the moniker of “White Chocolate” that followed me outside when I went to get some air that he was watching me dance all night and was enjoying it. He also asked if I ate snickers bars (I do, they are my favorite!) because I am (in his opinion) as thick as one.

Now before there is outrage, you have to understand that this was to be a compliment. Though I have never understood it, guys have always described me as “thick” and I have always been expected to swoon. Apparently, it is every black girls dream to be thick.

I was trying to make my way back inside when he said “Yea girl, go’ on back inside and dance. It’s making me tight in all the right places.”

I no longer felt the desire to shake my funky stuff.

By the time the band stopped, Shock Blond never reappeared, but White Chocolate had (I just pretended I didn’t see him), Trix and Fastcars left together (not what you think), Pastel left the club sad and I was sober enough to drive home.

It was a pretty good night, I heard an awesome band play (they also enjoyed my dancing…just not as creepily), I didn’t run into anyone from my job and I didn’t have to buy all my drinks.

I have no idea what to expect from this weekend, all I ask is that I am not compared to a Snickers bar…it kind of ruined them for me.