You Just Call Out My Name...

Tomorrow night, I'm going to see my friend Karen for the first time in 2 years. That picture was taken of us in Las Vegas back in 2001. We went on a joint vacation... she with her husband Rich and me with my then boyfriend. About a year later, she left me to move to Las Vegas.

We met during the summer of 1988. We both worked at McDonald's and she had just gotten her drivers license. That summer, there were 5 of us girls that hung out together every single day. As happens with teenage girls, you find the one you connect with the most, and she becomes your best friend. It didn't take long for Karen to become mine. She drove her mother's Dodge Caravan (or, the "KarenVan") and we all piled in... to just drive around, or go to the mall or parties or whatever. We told each other everything - deep, dark secrets, biggest fears and dreams for the future. We proceeded to spend the next several years talking every day, seeing each other most days of the week. We went through high school graduation, boyfriends, college (her, not me), sororities (I was so jealous), jobs, her engagement to a guy nobody liked, my first marriage...

When I got married at the tender age of 20, Karen was my maid of honor. My ex-husband's best friend had always had a crush on Karen. The night of my rehearsal dinner, it was clear that there was a real attraction between the two of them. She had a boyfriend at the time who lived hours away and she was faithful. After the wedding, my ex and I moved to an apartment complex and my ex's best friend moved into the building next door. We had lived with him for several years before the wedding in an effort to save money and now that we were married it was time to live on our own. But I guess we weren't ready to make a complete break. Heh.

Karen and I continued to spend a lot of time together, talking every day. She got engaged to her long distance boyfriend. We were going to be two young brides together.

Then they broke up.

She was devastated. For about 2 days.

It was Thanksgiving Day, and it just so happened that neither she nor the ex husband's best friend had anywhere to go, so they came with us to my aunt's house. The chemistry between the two of them was palpable. They sat near each other all day, then that night they went out. She and Rich were engaged a month later, married a year after that, and have been together ever since. That was 1995.

I got divorced a couple years later and spent several years dating the wrong guys, chasing the wrong guys, working at bad jobs, finally finding a great job. In the meantime, I moved about 20 minutes away. We continued to be close, talking several times a week. I met a guy (I'll call him J) who would become my boyfriend for 5 years, and who would ultimately play a role in my disconnect with Karen...

When I look back now on that relationship, I realize that I let it affect several of my friendships. Without getting into details, it was exhausting. SO much focus had to go to him and the relationship, I was tired. And I did nothing but defend him, even when he didn't deserve it. To make it worse, he worked for the same company that Karen and Rich worked for. He had the same job they did, just in a different location. So... they knew all too well, how poorly he was performing at work. And, as much as I didn't want to admit it, I was embarrassed by his inability to succeed. I wanted to support him and WANTED him to be successful, but he just wasn't. I wondered what they thought of him... and I knew that if I were them, I'd wonder why he had such a hard time doing the same job I was doing.

In the meantime, Karen and Rich decided to move to Las Vegas. I, of course, was devastated. I felt like she was leaving me, when I needed her most. But how could she know? I spent so much time defending the guy, I never really talked to her, as my best friend, about how I really felt. To further complicate matters, they sold their house and needed a place to stay for a couple of months before they moved. Of course, I insisted they stay with us.

What that meant was staying in the house we had recently bought from J's family. He had started renovations, and like with most things, he ran out of steam. I was so embarrassed by the state of our home, and again... was too proud to talk to her about it because if I said it out loud, I might have to do something about it. And I wasn't ready. That came later.

We really grew apart during that time, and to make matters worse, he came home one day telling me a story about how he heard that Karen was talking about him behind his back to people at their company. I wanted so badly to support him... and quite honestly, what he told me she said, I felt myself... so I couldn't really blame her. I don't even remember what it was now. I didn't want to start a fight while they were living with us, so I did the very mature thing and just completely avoided both of them. I even stayed in bed the morning they left for Vegas. I didn't even say goodbye, and I'll never forgive myself for that.

Several months later, J was in a minor car accident and she heard through the grapevine so she called me to ask how he was. We finally talked and she told me she wished I had talked to her then. I wish I had, too. For what it's worth, I've since learned to be direct when something's bothering me and not keep it bottled up inside. So, I guess I took my lesson from that experience.

I've obviously moved on from the relationship with J, and continue to stay in touch with Karen. We may not talk for 9 months or so, but when we do, it's like no time has passed. Two years ago, they came home for a visit and met Bob. I was so happy for them to meet him... he's just so much better for me and I know they can see that. When she tells me how happy she is for me, I can feel how much she means it. It's a good feeling to be proud of your spouse.

The time difference is tough, but we've found that through Facebook we can stay in touch better than we've been able to for several years now. I'm excited to see Karen and Rich tomorrow night... they're coming home for a visit just as we're leaving for Aruba so we won't be able to do more than dinner. But I'll take what I can get.

Every relationship goes through phases. You grow apart, and you grow together. You make mistakes and learn from them. But if they're worth it, you put in the time and in the end, you are rewarded. It's kind of like what Wendie says about tough decisions.... sometimes you make the tough decision, the one you know is right, and you are rewarded. Life is a series of choices.

There is nothing like a friendship formed in childhood, when your best friend was your world. Twenty years later, I know how lucky I was to find her then... and I'm not letting her go again!

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Man Vs. Debt

I just wanted to take a minute to share this clever post written by Adam Baker at Man Vs. Debt, one of my favorite sites. I've written about Adam and his wife before, here. This post is based around Tyler Durden, a character from the movie, "Fight Club".

After a few years of living very frugally out of necessity, I find that I'm very interested in continuing to do so. Less stuff means less spending, and as a result, more money in the bank. I find myself scouring the Internet looking for personal finance and investment blogs. There are a lot to choose from, and I will post my favorites when I return from my honeymoon.

Enjoy Adam's post, "Tyler Durden's Guide to Personal Finance". It's a fun read :)

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Things That Made Me Happy This Week - Sept 13, 2009

• Making progress finalizing some projects at work before we leave
• Bob had a great time at his bachelor party
• Engagement party thrown by my co-workers
• Glee (If you haven't seen this show, you're missing out. Hilarious!)
• A night out with some of my favorite girls on the planet
• Sangria
• We were able to leave Gruxy overnight without worry - he was so happy to see Auntie Luisa!
• A lovely pre-wedding celebration lunch with Bob’s mom and brother at 22 Bowen's in Newport
• A stop at Green Envy to stock up on Soy Candles by Phebes
• Bob went into contract on a new property

It's been a week filled with pre-wedding stuff. We leave early on Thursday morning, so we're really wrapping up stuff that needs to be done, and we've been treated to a lot of fun in between!

Bob's bachelor party was last Sunday. He and the guys played golf, ate BBQ and went to a cigar bar. Basically, the perfect day for him :)

My company threw us an engagement party on Wednesday after work. We went to a restaurant near my office for appetizers and cocktails. We had fun.... a lot of laughs, and it was great hearing about how people met their spouses, and some interesting traditions that some couples have adopted for their anniversaries.

On Saturday, after dropping Gruxy off for his sleepover with Auntie Lu, we took Bob's mom and brother out for a pre-departure celebration lunch. We had a wonderful, leisurely meal in Newport and then walked around a bit.

Some of my best girls took me out that night. I hesitate to call it a bachelorette party because for me, that phrase conjures up images of bride t-shirts, male strippers and intoxication. This was not that, at all. My wonderful friends planned a dinner at the gorgeous One Bellevue at The Hotel Viking. When Bob walked with me into the lounge where live jazz was playing, I was greeted by three sweet, smiling faces and big hugs. Bob stayed just long enough to get his own hugs, then took off for a night at the movies. After a few minutes, the last of the girls arrived and we headed into the dining room for dinner.

Our server, Andrew, was very attentive and charming. We all thoroughly enjoyed our meals and great conversation and laughs. After dinner, some of us headed over to Salvation Cafe where we shared a jar of sangria. We sat outside under a canopy, and even though it was raining and my hair was not happy, I was. I feel so grateful to have these women in my life. These are people who are genuinely happy for me, love Bob and love us together. I'm really feeling the love this week! :)

This picture cracks me up... I'm trying to look all cute, Luisa (on the right) is in mid-sentence but stops to pose, and Julie is just laughing hysterically at Luisa's story.

I know my posts have been a bit few and far between lately and I hope you forgive me... but the weddingmoon is here... and I'll be back afterwards with some great pictures. I have some product reviews lined up, too.

See you in a couple of weeks!

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Things That Made Me Happy This Week - Sept 5, 2009

• A night at home with some new friends
• Bob surprised me by replacing the broken chain for this necklace
• Pictures of Bob’s mom and Lisa’s weekend in Boston
• More completed wedding related tasks
• Aveda Mango Juice Lip Glaze
• Two very sweet compliments from two of my aunts
• An email exchange with Bob’s brother
• This blog post - made me laugh out loud
• Seeing that my dad and his best friend growing up have reconnected via Facebook
• Dinner at The Cuban Revolution with Connie and Everett
• Watching the sunrise over the ocean with my Love

We got up at 5am today! Anyone who knows me, knows... this is unheard of, unless I have a plane to catch. But I had this bright idea that it might be cool to watch the sunrise and practice with the new camera.

Actually, it was a great idea... on a holiday weekend during the day, Brenton Point in Newport, RI is super crowded. But this morning we were joined only by seagulls, fishermen and other photographers. Some professional, some amateur, like us (I realize amateur is an understatement, but we’re learning ok?).

So I bundled up in my blanket while Bob set up the tripod. We watched the sunrise, took pictures and cuddled. There is something about the sound of the ocean that’s just so soothing. I realized something about myself a few years ago... I don’t think I would be happy living in a place where the ocean was not easily accessible. I visited Boulder, CO once and although it’s gorgeous... I just don’t think I’d be happy there for an extended period of time.

Brenton Point is one of “our” spots... we like to bring a picnic lunch and just lay in the grass listening to the waves. It’s beautiful and it doesn’t cost a penny. What’s your favorite spot?

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First Day of School - "I Hate the Bus"

I'm taking a moment today to write a bit more serious of a post than usual, on a topic that I don't think gets enough attention. This post was written by Jim S., a sweet boy I grew up with. It’s heartbreaking… for me particularly because I know Jim and had NO idea this happened to him. But also because I know it happens too often and it doesn’t seem like bullying is addressed as it should be. Kids are committing suicide these days because of it. I just find this so upsetting but also a real eye opener.

I’m re-posting this with Jim's permission because I know that some of you have kids (or nieces or nephews) that are starting school this week… and while I’m sure your kids wouldn’t be bullies, and I’m sure you talk about these types of things all the time, I feel like it’s something that can’t be discussed enough. Maybe reading this will spark another conversation.

First Day of School - "I Hate the Bus"

"On my drive to the train today it was very obvious that today was the first day of school; kids waiting at the bus stops, buses picking them up.

Whenever I see a bus, I feel a giant pit in my stomach of dread. I used to love the bus in elementary school. Me and my friend Nicole would sing songs for the bus driver. It was a lot of fun.

In Junior High the majority of bullying I suffered was on the bus. Kids would call me all sorts of things, and I would have to walk up and down the aisle asking "Can I sit here?" only to be told "No", over and over again. Then when I would try and sit, they would push me out into the aisle. The aisle was a gauntlet of spitting, kicking, punching. My bag or books would get ripped out of my hands and then they would get thrown all around the bus. This happened every day, on the way to, and on the way from school.

I remember once this tiny little girl, Gina, slapped me across my face so hard and screamed "faggot!" at me and laughed in my face. Another day, another kid spit a "lugie" on a comb and then stuck it in my hair.

The bus driver would do one of two things. Pull the bus over and scream "I'm not moving this bus until someone lets him sit down!" or just ignore it. I felt defenseless. I couldn't fight. It was paralyzing. I felt like I couldn't tell the teachers, or my parents because of my fear of retaliation, but more so, my fear that maybe they would find out I really was all those things that the kids called me: faggot, gaylord, queer, fairy, queerbate, etc., and because of this, I even thought I may deserve it all.

The bus stop could be just as bad. Sometimes the neighborhood bully would walk 1/2 mile down the street, just to torment me. He must have thought it was a really good time. Finally Mrs. M, our neighbor, moved the bus stop to her house, where she would keep an eye on us, and that helped. But I still had to get on the bus and ride to school.

My coping mechanism was to act up and get detention. That way I didn't have to take the bus home. Thank God when Drama Club started up, because not only did I not have to take the bus home, but I could actually have some fun.

The hallways in school were bad too. Shoved into the lockers, being punched, or having my books and papers thrown to the ground as a hundred kids trampled them and me on their rush to get to class. In the cafeteria I would find myself once again asking "Can I sit here?" only to be told "no". I sat alone in the cafe in 5th and 6th grade, but in 7th grade I sort of leached on to a small group of girls and sat at their table. My lab partner, Brenda would actually talk to me. I think she actually liked me except for when I flirted incessantly with her, even showering her with 22 carnations on Valentine's Day. I was trying to put a big sign that said "I am not a homo!" It was the same sign I carried around every day when I would ask every girl to "go out" with me. The truth is, it was all a cry for help, I thought if I had a girlfriend, the bullying would stop.

I realize now that I could have always gone to my parents, and I should have. In some cases when a call home would come, my mom would intervene, but I don't think they ever knew the extent, because I kept it hidden. I was scared and ashamed.

And it wasn't all bad. There were times in class when I would get to read aloud, or give an oral report (usually on Tina Turner- was I asking for it?), or go to chorus or be in the school show. I did find some friends, I also found out what fair weather friends were too. But the friends I did make stood up for me, and I for them. Eventually, and slowly, the number of friends I had would increase, but even with those I loved the most, it took forever to learn to trust.

The bullying influenced the next several years of my life dramatically. As I grew older, I adopted behaviors that I thought would make look "cool". I would act up in class and get in trouble. I began smoking regularly in 8th grade. Our bus driver would even let us smoke near the end of the route, as long as the windows were open. I would smoke just to show the bullies that I was tough...

I was extremely insecure all through my adolescent and college years. I had a very hard time accepting the fact that people could actually like me for who I really was. Not only that, but I was suppressing years of pent up rage inside of me with various forms of sedation, or acting out against my parents or others. However, things would eventually turn around for me.

In college I was among the small group of students who advocated for and helped the Gay & Lesbian Student Rights bill pass in MA. This was the first time I stood in public- in front of the Governor even, and said "I am gay." It was so moving because I realized I was no longer alone.

During my years as a freelance artist (running my own community theater and taking other gigs here and there) I toured with an organization called "Deana's Fund". We went to schools throughout the US with shows that dealt with dating violence and bullying for grades K through college. Secretly, I loved playing the bully, but was most often cast as the "target". I never held back when performing the monologues. Tears would come, and pain would escape. No matter the audience, this would be a pivotal point in the show. Afterwards we would lead panel discussions on identifying the forms of abuse, and talk about how to deal with bullies. Once in a while there would be a question about our own experiences, and I would share. I talked openly about my experiences on the bus because I knew there was any number of kids in the audience who were going through the same exact situation, and felt very much alone, and very much like they were the only ones going through it. Once in a while a kid would come up and talk after the show. It was an amazing experience, and it finally help me start to heal.

Most of my current friends see me as a very out-going, fun, extrovert. Some would even say I am very confident. For the most part I would agree. Some people think I am a snob because I seem a bit cold and standoff-ish when I first meet them. In some situations it is still hard for me to think that I have something valuable to say, or that my voice sounds too "gay" and nasally... Its funny because now I recognize it, and I tell that scared kid inside me ssshh....its okay...its really ok.

I learned a very important lesson about being a victim. No one chooses to be a victim or a target of abuse. However, you can choose whether or not you will continue to be a victim. You can spend your life battling demons, feeling sorry for yourself, wallowing in self deprecation; or you can choose to move on, you can choose to no longer allow the bullies/the abuser to have control over you. The way I chose the latter was through forgiveness. It taught me that the only way to destroy the evil in this world is through absolution.

Seeing the school buses this morning really brought a lot up for me. These memories are no longer scars, but make me feel more like gold that has been brandished through the fire. I survived, and not only that I overcame.

Now I am looking through the many pictures of friends sending their kids off to school. I imagine they are quite proud, and a little nervous, knowing their own stories of bus rides and hallways. I am looking forward to a few years from now when my kid will be getting on the bus. I will be a wreck! Who knows...I drive by the middle school on my way to the train...maybe my kid will just get a ride... "

For more of Jim's perspective, visit his blog, "Jim's Whims..."

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