This was supposed to post last Friday.....

There is a phenomenon that happens in the town where I live that I'm particularly fond of. Whenever it snows, even just an inch, the entire city collectively winks, smiles, and shuts down so that everyone can have a bit of a holiday.

We got over an inch of snow. I'm at work.

What is wrong with this picture????? And I don't even have a window to look out so that I can at least enjoy the sight of snow. No, I was too busy getting up throughout the night to see if we got anything, so now I'm exhausted. And at work.

Did I mention the adulting thing earlier? I'm getting lots of practice.

Anyway. Time to shake it off, put on big girl panties, and move on.

Boy, am I rusty at this writing thing. I've been staring at the monitor for five minutes since I wrote that last sentence, trying desperately to come up with a subject that is both witty and entertaining. I discarded discussing how stupid boutonnieres are, mostly because I am physically incapable of spelling boutonnieres. Then I thought about describing the perfect snow day, but that just made me depressed. Then I thought about talking about the book I'm reading, but that's probably only interesting to me.

That's it. I must be boring. That's more depressing than having to work on a snow day!

Vanilla

Yesterday, one of my co-workers offered to take all of us out to lunch. It was very sweet of him and, more importantly, I felt included by "the boys." I sure as heck was not going to pass up the opportunity. On the way to the restaurant, somehow the conversation got on to traffic tickets. I, knocking loudly on wood, said that I had never gotten a traffic ticket. The co-worker made a comment about how I was a safe driver, and I said that I tried.

Then later, we were getting ice cream to finish the meal, and my boss said that he loved vanilla ice cream. I said that cheese pizza and vanilla ice cream were my favorites, and the other co-worker compared it to my never having gotten a traffic ticket.

Guys. Am I boring?

I don't like getting into trouble. I don't like negative attention. I like living a simple life, safe and comfortable. I like sleeping in on Saturday mornings and wearing clothes that don't show my boobs too much and keeping a full tank of gas in my car. But does all this equate to boring?

I also like snorkeling by a coral reef and seeing sea turtles. I like roller coasters and action movies and sunsets and dawns. I like yellow dresses and thunderstorms.

Maybe it's not about boring. Maybe it's just about picking my battles. I would much rather ride a roller coaster than get a traffic ticket.

Adulthood Overload

It's been over a year since I've written, like, anything at all. Not a single poem, fanfiction, or short story has flown from my mind to my fingers. My sister graciously just gave me her old computer with glorious, wonderful, thoroughly under-appreciated Microsoft Word.

Over the past year, I've gotten close to a lot of amazing women online through a fashion blog. The bloggers finally got tired of us chatting in the comments and gave us our very own forum. It's become so much more than commentary on fashion; I count these people as some of my dearest friends. They know more about me than a lot of my family. We're there for each other through the highs and the lows of everyday life. They have enriched my life to no ends and I wish I could fly each and every one of them in to my wedding this year.

And yes, I said that. My wedding. My boyfriend, known now as FVT to my online friends, proposed to me on October 15th with a beautiful butterfly diamond ring. To a large degree, it still doesn't seem real. I can't believe that I'm getting married. Me, the single girl for so many years. And that's what's so weird to me. I pay off my car tomorrow. FVT and I are closing on a house next month. I'm doing things like getting quotes for home owner's insurance and sadly throwing away worn out t-shirts and replacing them with pencil skirts and tights. I work full time (and, since a recent job change, I'm enjoying it). The whole situation is just bizarre to me.

I've never enjoyed the idea of having Peter Pan syndrome. I have friends that just waltz through life and it pisses me off. Everyone has to grow up and face their responsibilities at some point. I guess I've just lived in this nebulous world so long of working only just enough to get by and pay my bills and goofing off the rest of the time that I've grown accustomed to selfishness. It's the same way in my relationship. I catch myself making decisions around what I want, not around what's best for me and FVT, and I'm having to consciously change my thinking.

I had the most wonderful conversation with a young lady the other day who is very similar to me. Neither of us particularly wanted to be in relationships until, suddenly, someone appeared that changed everything. We both struggle to be available emotionally. We eventually came to a place in our coversation, though, where we came to the conclusion that relationships are the most difficult thing in the world, and we wouldn't be willing to do it for anybody OTHER than our significant others. And that's the core of it, isn't it? I care about FVT enough to alter my entire life and, as my grandfather used to say, I wouldn't do it for just anybody.

As much growing up that is happening in my life and as much change that is happening, I will say this:

You will drag my weekend naps out of my cold, dead hands. Same goes for my stuffed bunny and elephant.