I Sometimes Get Paranoid...

One thing I never mentioned in previous posts is that a few of GC's guy friends have commented to me that she talks about me a lot, which is sort of surprising considering we've only hung out a handful of times. Last time I saw her, Indian night at NV, in our drunken stupor, we shared a heartwarming moment in the womens' bathroom (where else?) where we went back and forth about how glad we were to have met.

So...when GC didn't return my call last weekend, I started to worry -- worry she'd suddenly decided she no longer wanted to be my friend! I even had a dream that night where I asked a mutual friend of ours if she was out of town. He said "no" and got a funny look so I pressed him to tell me what I'd done wrong or why she was avoiding me. He eventually admitted the reason she didn't want to hang out with me was because the last time we'd gone out, I apparently was so drunk that I thought it would be a good idea to steal milk from the kitchen of a bar downtown! The worst of it was my drunk ass failed to recall the incident, but GC had told our friend that it wasn't just a 1-liter size milk, I'd managed to steal gallons and gallons...of milk!! As it turned out, she was morally opposed to my klepto ways. She said I'd taken it too far and didn't want to associate herself with someone like that.

Is that not the strangest dream you've heard of? It was incredibly vivid! Funny, I'm in a bar, and of all things, I choose to steal milk?!? What the hell is wrong with me?

Paranoia getting the best of me, I periodically checked my phone all weekend, in hoping, contrary to my dream, she actually had been out of town. But as the weekend came and went, with no word, I honestly tried to think of what I may have done or said to piss her off. I texted her on Tuesday after work as well, with no response.

Finally, today when I arrived home, I had a missed call and voicemail from her with an apology and explanation that there'd been a family emergency. I immediately felt terrible for being so selfish! Here all this time I kept thinking it must have been something I'd done, and I'd never once stopped to consider the possibility that something bad happened.

To top it off, the same situation occurred with another friend of mine who didn't get back to me over the weekend so I was twice as paranoid. I later learned he was out of town.

Ex BFF's

It's to be expected that men will come and go, but it's a different story with your female friendships, perhaps the most complex of all. Several years ago, two of my college friends and I were in for the shock of our lives when out of the blue, one of our close college friends, NoIdentity, emailed us making asinie accusations regarding our behavior toward her and her new man, ToolforBrains. Ironically, she never would have met ToolforBrains (now her tool-of-a-husband) if it hadn't been for us forcing their introduction at the bar. She wasn't interested when approached by Tool's friend, on his behalf, but we were drunk and chatty so we scurried over to the booth they occupied.

In her email, she claimed to take offense for everything under the sun -- covering everything from us secretly excluding her from the group to ignoring ToolforBrains, thus deeming us "immature high schools." She even went so far as to badger us for making fun of ToolforBrains' tapered jeans. Are you kidding me?!?! We would have ridiculed ANYONE for that fashion faux-pas. Seriously. It was 2004, not 1994. It's not like we were cruel enough to say anything to the guy's face.

She received three angry, defensive emails in return, only to never hear back from her. It wasn't until a year later when I made plans with a mutual friend, whom unbeknownst to me, invited NoIdentity to join us. It was awkward, yes, but at times throughout conversation, it was as if nothing ever happened. It was like seeing an old ex for the first time in a long time when you make it a point to block out all the bad memories. After that, we made amends in that we continued communication and hung out on occasion, but it was never really the same. Nor will it ever be.

When a relationship falls apart, drama is guaranteed to follow, but what about when the same happens to a friendship?? It never receives the same attention, but it's just as dramatic, if not moreso! I met NoIdentity my first week of college and we immediately clicked, spending nearly every waking moment together. The fact she was willing to just throw away her closest friendships and the manner in which she went about it, all for the sake of ToolforBrains, spoke volumes.

Marrieds vs. Singles

Lately I've been thinking about how one's marital status affects their friendships. It's only reasonable that married couples would hang out with other marrieds while singles band together (the same logic applies to couples with kids). Naturally, the two groups co-exist, but when they socialize, it seems the marrieds are yawning and checking their cell phones either for the time or to see whether their other half has called if he/she is not present. They generally never make it to bar close and if they do, you probably won't seem them out again for another month.

On the weekends, I can't help but feel nostalgic as I flip through my ever-shrinking list of "going-out" friends on my phone. By default, I gravitate toward my single friends and thus feel closer to them as we bond over booze and banter.

I'm frequently reminded of the fact I wouldn't see my single friends, who happen to be more of acquaintances these days, nearly as often had I been part of the married crowd. Not to say that I don't still enjoy hanging out with my married friends, but it's two completely different worlds.

In recent months, I've witnessed many friendships change, friends of friends included, as more and more people take that next step. Is there a way to lessen the gap between the two groups? Or once you're married, does saying good-bye to your single self mean saying good-bye to your single friends?

Not your Ordinary Sunday

I feel a tad foolish about my latest adventure. Only one of my friends knows because she was with me, but the rest of my friends will most likely read it here first. I did something yesterday that will stay with me the rest of my life!

Ever since I was 16 or so, I've said I was going to get a tattoo. Lo and behold, 10 years later, I can finally say I followed through on that statement. I was getting a little worried that ship had sailed for fear I was simply getting too old. Arguably, I probably am too old, but dammit, I was determined to get one! Plus I can check another item off my 'Things to do Before I Die' list! I'm on a roll this year...

It's been years of back and forth on my part. Indecision plagues me in every day life. Anyway, I always liked star tattoos and I wanted the "tramp stamp" even though I'm way past the age of 18. I really liked the lower back tribal tattoos, but I figured I probably wouldn't like that in 10 years. So...I just got three small stars tattooed on my lower back, and boy, are they low. Lower than I anticipated. Ok, I'm getting ahead of myself, so I'll backpedal a bit.

My experienced tattooed friend agreed to go to the tattoo parlor with me. We forever have a bond now. I'll think of her every time I see my tattoo. :) The place is called Aloha Monkey in Burnsville and it's where she went for her last tattoo. Lucky girl is going to the Bahamas next week with her hubby and in-laws so she couldn't get a tat since you can't swim for three weeks. She actually wanted to get one on her toe and then wear a band-aid over it, but this tattoo place refuses to do them on toes because they said it looks like a blob over time.

So I kind of knew I wanted the stars beforehand, but I did look around at the pictures. There were a couple cool tribal suns I saw, but I didn't know if that was something I would want forever. Also, I have a pretty high tolerance for pain, but I was incredibly nervous for the unknown. I was super curious to know what getting a tattoo felt like. My friend described it as deep scraping of the skin which made me very anxious to get one, as I'm sure you can imagine.

I had an older female tattoo artist. She said she would place the stars where she thought they should go and then I could decide if I liked the placement. I kind of assumed she knew best so I didn't really question it at the time, but when I got home last night and really took a look in the mirror, I realized the bottom star is really, really low! Not so sure I like that, but not much I can do now!

So the pain was not nearly as bad as I was expecting. It hardly hurt at all -- there was just one point where I actually flinched. It helped that I didn't have to face the needle because I wouldn't have wanted to witness that. When I got my tongue pierced way back when (twice, in fact), I closed my eyes both times. It may sound weird, but afterwards I felt relieved more than anything. I was glad I had finally done something I'd been saying I was going to do for soooooooo long. And I felt good knowing what it felt like to get a tattoo. I satisfied my curiosity!

Another reason I decided on plain stars -- it's just the outline of stars by the way, in black, was because I intend to add on to it in the future. Perhaps color in the stars or add little sunbursts, etc. The possibilities are endless! My friend plans to go back and get these really cool sparrows on her lower back, but she has to save up money first and get an estimate from a guy who didn't happen to be working at the time. I'll probably go back when she does to add more because I already think my tattoo looks pretty boring. If I wouldn't have been such a wuss, I probably would've gotten something more intricate, but at least I know what to expect now.

I also considered getting the stars on my pelvic area, but I was too scared for that. My friend has one there and she said she had to lie down and stay super still while taking shallow breaths. I'd have been way too nervous for my first time! But maybe next time, I'd have to hope I didn't get fat though because that would look terrible if it got all stretched out!

Speaking of fat, I'm not posting a picture yet of my tattoo. I ran outside today in this miserable heat and I don't know that I've ever felt that self-conscious before! All the hard-core female runners were out in their sport bras, sporting their six-pack abs. My friends get pissed at me, so lemme clarify, I don't think I'm fat, but I think I could stand to lose at least five pounds!! I would never feel comfortable enough to jog in just a sports bra because my stomach is NOT flat.

Another thing I want to say in relation to this is that ALL females have a complex about their weight. I have some super skinny friends that rattle off things they dislike about their body at the drop of a hat!!

Anyway, I got a little off-track, but my tattoo seems to be healing pretty nicely. My friend said it would scab over, but I'm thinking mine may not. Still, I'm going to wait a bit for pics. You'll have to use your imagination in the meantime!

My tattoo artist asked what my mom would think of my tattoo and I responded with, "Well, I'm 26 so I don't think she can say much." To which she replied, "You'd be surprised. I once was tattooing a guy of legal age down in Florida and his mother physically yanked him out of the chair during the middle of it and they left." Crazy! I think my parents will just shake their heads and ask why...

After getting inked, which only took about ten minutes, my friend and I headed over to another friend's house to grill out. We all went to high school together and it was just FUN to hang out and laugh with them. I can't remember the last time just the three of us were together -- probably not since high school. It's funny how so much time can pass and yet, you get together and it's as if nothing's changed. I laughed so hard I got a side ache multiple times last night. It felt really great; I desperately miss that camaraderie.

p.s. Marley hates my computer -- he wants my undivided attention!

Fake 'n Spray: My First Mystic Tan Experience

Doesn't really have the same ring, does it? Failed to come up with an original name for it. Not a regular at the tanning salon, in fact, I hadn't gone for over a year and that was in preparation for a trip to the Bahamas. However, seeing my pale skin when surrounded by floor-length mirrors, under flourescent lighting at the gym has served as a daily reminder of how sickly I look, thus prompting me to re-visit Planet Beach. Oh, and in case I ever forget for a minute, there are always a handful of women with toned bodies and bronzed tans at the gym who really know how to give you a complex!

In the good old days (my high school years), there was simply one kind of tanning bed. They all looked the same, neutral in color and you had to lie flat on your back. They later invented the beds where you could stand, but the idea of standing never appealed to me. My God, how times change! Now when you walk through the door of a tanning salon, the employees bust out a 4" three-ring binder and bombard you with a crapload of package options, guaranteed to make your head spin.

Not only are there a multitude of beds to choose from, but then there's an explanation of what each one does and heaven forbid, you enter a bed without purchasing one of their skin care products like a moisturizer or bronzer!! Tanning beds these days look like they're from the set of some futuristic, sci-fi flick! Call me old-fashioned, or just plain old, but frankly, they intimidate me! They have fancy paint jobs to make them look very sleek -- shiny red mixed with a silver sparkly color and smooth, curvy lines. They look more like a vehicle and they are about the same size. Many of them fill an entire room! Put-off by the monstrous machines (oh yeah, and dangerous UV rays), I decided to try the new (er, not-so-new) mystic tan, or spray-on tan.

Perhaps like me, you saw the Friends episode, The One with Ross's Tan, where Ross, after admiring his sister's tan, decides to try mystic tan. The employee gives him the instructions, which he fails to remember, so he ends up getting sprayed four times on his back and none on his front. That was my only first-hand knowledge as to how these booths worked, so I was a little hesitant going into it. Luckily, my experience was nothing like that.

The Planet Beach "special" has been going on for at least two years! Buy one, get one free for $30. The employee insisted since I hadn't done any moisturizing that day, I buy $3 moisturizing cloths for the ultimate tanning experience (ok, she didn't say it like that, but she was cleverly convincing), then after she swiped my credit card, supposedly realized, "Oh wait, they were $5." She asked me about color options (light, medium, dark) so she suggested dark and selected one other option for me. Still unclear what that was, but it was based on when you will shower next.

So she took me back to the room and rattled off the instructions and a short demo, which you wouldn't think would be so complicated. I've never been too good with verbal instructions, just ask my 9th grade lab partner. Fortunately, they have a handy checklist framed on the dark purple wall.

First, undress and remove jewelry. Second, put on shower cap and eye goggles. Third, apply some cream to your hands and feet, including your cuticles and between your fingers and toes. Next, apply the moisturizing cloths to your entire body (only suckers need adhere). The door to the booth opens and closes by censored touch. A robotic female voice says,"door opening" and "door closing." Then wave your hand at another censor to activate the spray and assume the proper position. As the employee demonstrated, you must stand with your legs shoulder-width apart and your arms out, almost at a 90 degree angle. When you turn completely around, to do your back, you want your arms to remain distanced from your body, but move your hands so they are in front of your body.The robot's voice delivers the instructions while you mentally prepare for a shockingly cold blast to your entire body (she left this part out)! The spray-on tan odor is probably the worst part. It's intoxicating. I wanted to cough, but was afraid I would inhale the spray if I opened my mouth. Kinda like when some tool walks by and you can actually taste their cheap cologne in the back of your throat. I didn't wear goggles so the spray irritated my contacts a bit, even an hour afterwards, but since I wear [obsolete] hard contacts, they were probably more sensitive to the spray.

Once you step out, they emphasize the importance of rubbing down from head-to-toe with the towel to prevent orange marks. Particularly in places people commonly forget like the back of their knees, throat, and elbows. I think I did a pretty good job with removing most of the spray. My hands look kind of orange today and I have one streak on my elbow, but not such a big deal. Overall, it was a pretty positive experience. It's definitely not as relaxing as lying in a tanning bed, which especially sounds good on a day like today with snow in April! It's the opposite really, with the cold blast of fumes and whatnot. On the other hand, I know I'm much darker than I would be if I had used the basic tanning bed, not to mention exposure-free of UV rays, but I'll have to see how long this "tan" lasts to know if it's worth the money...