confessions of a reformed husband hunter

Quick-- load up on Miss Frizzle's magic school bus, because I'm about to give you a sneak peek into my crazy brain.  Setting:  2008, spring.  Me at a party/bar.  I've just met a cute guy wearing something preppy.  We've flirtily exchanged the basics...age, where are you from, what do you do, etc.  The gears in my head are churning, turning, at the speed of light:  

Inhale.  [Montage flashing through head of picnics in the park, dinners out, sailing together, throwing snow balls at each other, kissing on the couch in front of the fire].  His parents, progressive and supportive, would find me a breath of fresh air with my country-mouse ways in their big-city existence.  I'd bake them cookies and win them over with my perfect manners. We'd wed in a small but tasteful wedding at a vineyard.  Every morning before another draining day at the office, I'd have his coffee ready just the way he liked it, and I would make sure dinner was ready before he got home.  I'd iron his shirts the way he liked them, and give him foot rubs on the weekends, and take our dog, a golden retriever named Kennedy to the vet.  We'd live just outside of the city with a big yard for our kids to run through, because I'm still scared of the city.  And that's what he'd love about me.  Exhale.

This was (a very, very, very exaggerated version of) me.  Until about a year ago, I was what you might call a "husband hunter."  Disillusioned by Disney movies and romance novels, I wanted a husband and marriage and kids, and I wanted it ASAP, by golly!  Now don't mistake me for a gold digger -- money wasn't what this is about, though certainly for some husband hunters it might be.  For me?  I wanted a husband and marriage because it would mean emotional security, and an end not only to my loneliness, but also the awful carousel that is dating.
 
On the surface, I never saw anything wrong with being a family-oriented girl who wanted to get married, settle down, start a family, have a few kids.  But there's a fundamental problem with all of this -- being "married" to the idea of being married doesn't allow for healthy relationships.  When you're forcing a guy into the role that you want without his consent, it's never going to end well.  [Cue: Awful story where Lindsey meets Harsh Reality.]

It's been a long and sometimes painful process, but I can now proudly call myself reformed.  I'm starting every type of a relationship with an open mind, and really focusing on connecting with the guys I meet.  We can choose the nature of our relationship together.  I'm enjoying my journey through life, and I'm not going to wait for the "I do" as a permission or signal for the beginning of emotional security and happiness.  Sure, I want a beautiful wedding someday, but I've already worked out a back-up plan... marrying myself!  Hopefully it doesn't come to that, but you never know.  Besides, I don't think living with myself for the rest of my life would be so bad at all!

Look for my wedding invitations in the mail circa 2025!

L<3

the beauty of brunch

Once upon a time, before the summer got absurdly busy and I wasn't in Ann Arbor for a single weekend for 2 months straight.... I had Brunch Crawl Sundays with my BFFAEAEAT (Best Friend Forever and Ever and Even After That, obviously) Harriet the Spy.  Basically, we'd meet up every Sunday for a fancy brunch, have a few too many mimosas, and begin a pub crawl.  There's really no way to say you're pub crawling on a Sunday without sounding like an alcoholic, so instead we sound like fatties who eat several brunches in a row.  I'm okay with that.

But why brunch, and not lunch?  Because brunches are perfect.  Let me count some ways:

1. Brunch feels like retirement.  Unlike the rest of the work week, when you're running around like crazy, brunch is about wasting time.  Taken out of context, driving across town, buying a newspaper, and waiting in line for an hour for food that you could have made at home seems pretty ridiculous.  But that's what's so fun about brunch-- wasting an entire morning around breakfast.
2. Brunch has unlimited alcohol.  And the menu is full of alcoholic drinks that are perfectly acceptable to drink before noon.  You're an alcoholic if you drink vodka with orange juice before noon, but champagne with orange juice or vodka and tomato juice?  You're a normal productive member of society.
3. You get to mix coffee with alcohol.  Inappropriate in nearly all social settings, this is just fun.
4. You get a fancy, creative meal for way less money than it would cost at dinner time.  
5.  Some would suggest that brunch links to getting laid.  It's a couples thing... lay in bed all morning being naughty and then go out for brunch.  Even years after someone cheats and the relationship ends, the connection is there, and it makes the quiche lorraine taste that much better. 

I'm counting down the weekends 'til my next Brunch Crawl (August 14...Birthday Brunch Crawl!), because this list just made me hungry.  Oh, and if you were wondering, my favorite brunch in Ann Arbor is at grange.

Get your brunch on this weekend!

L

a blog about blogs...

..so meta, right?  (Thank you G6 for teaching me a new word today). 

So apparently my little exercise in creativity is catching on.  Two of my friends have started blogging, obviously due to my Ever-So-Inspiring work here.  Check out Ryan Bingham's travel/life blog, and G6's funny picture blog.  [End free advertisements for friends]. Also, I've been a little slow on posts, so if there's anyone who wants a little outlet for creativity without actually creating an entire blog... let me know.  [End shameless solicitation for guest bloggers that would enable my laziness].

[End shortest blog post ever].
 
L

everyday is a great day

Well, maybe not.  But that's what our crazy high school health teacher used to tell us every day, one of his many catch phrases that you had to memorize for the final.  But today.... today is a great day.  My 4-inches-shorter-with-red-highlights hair rocks.  I'm so sparkly they can locate me in Ann Arbor from the space station without a telescope.  And I'm just feeling... happy!  I'm so blissed out on life that I'm practically levitating when I'm walking around town. 

Never mind that it's over 90 degrees and 90% humidity.  Forget that it's Art Fair and the traffic is terrible and my usual routine is thrown off.  Nothing can bring me down, because I'm walking on sunshine.  And I'm so giddy today that I'm dotting my "i"s with hearts.  Yeah, that's right, hearts. Happy Hump Day!

L <3

the magic in a haircut

My friend Third Degree and I are getting hair makeovers this week.  In fact, I'm getting my hair done in t-minus 94 minutes, and while I'm a little terrified, I'm mostly thrilled.  You see, I  believe that New Hair = New You.  And I'm not the only one-- Third Degree has decided that after a long, emotional roller coaster month, she needs a change.  A fresh start if you will.  And I've become a little bored with my party girl lifestyle.  I'm in a rut, and I feel like I'm losing my sparkle.  The solution to both of our problems, what we hope will be an impetus for change?  A new hairdo. 

For many, it's the "breakup haircut" a la Felicity, but it could just as well be the "moving on" haircut.  What you get out of the simple act of a haircut is indescribable.  It's a sense of liberation, an emancipation of that part of your life.  You're literally chopping off a part of you, and making a change.  Starting a new you-- because the old you is being swept up by the bottom-of-the-food-chain intern at the hair salon and thrown in the garbage bin.  Hasta la vista, baby.


The curious thing about the cathartic hair cut?  It seems that women are the only ones who subscribe to it.  There are slideshows dedicated to newly-single celebrity women who "Cut That Man Out Of Her Hair," but I have yet to see males changing their hairstyles because they've been dumped.  And I've pestered surveyed most of the men I know, and a new haircut doesn't even make the Top 10 List of Things to Change When Seeking Change.  (Results of the survey might be slightly skewed by one Ryan Bingham, who also admitted to never wanting to change, let alone change his hairdo).  Maybe it's because men don't have as much hair, so they generally can't lop off 6 inches for effect.  Or maybe it's because they see working on their Guns and Buns as being a better step towards change.  Give me your theories, because I really don't know.

At any rate, I'll be rocking a new look tonight, highlights and all.  (This is a Big Deal, as usually I don't even brush my hair, let alone get all fancy and color it).  And good or bad, it's just hair.  It'll grow back.  So here's hoping that having the confidence to try something new will pay off and help me reclaim my sparkle!

L

the zacklies

I'm not an adult.  I work 8-5.  I pay my car insurance.  I have retirement savings.  I pay my student loans.  I do that boring "adult" stuff.  But apparently, I also find it appropriate to go binge drinking on Hump Day.  Not so adult.  In honor of the massive hangover I'm sporting today, I present to you all the fun ways to describe/name a hangover (I'm so hungover I can't think about anything else):

1. "I feel like a homeless man spent the night in my mouth!"
2. The brown bottle flu.
3. Tap dancing on your brain
4. The Zacklies.  As in, your mouth tastes 'zackly like your butt.
5.  The morning tremblies.
6. "Did a monkey take a dump in my mouth last night?"
7. "My blood feels toxic"
8. The Irish flu
9. Punishment for not offering enough to the Great Porcelain God.
10. Run over by a truck.
11. Katzenjammer

That's all for today, folks.  I simply don't have much more in me.  I've been Katzenjammed.

L

PS:  Nice work to Third Degree, Muhammad Ali, and Rumpelstiltskin.  How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.

but surprisingly...upbeat!!

It occurred to me last night that sometimes my friends might think of me like a little puppy-- entertaining, cuddly, funny, occasionally annoying, and (nearly) always happy.   I think my friends find my constant upbeat-ness a little irritating at times, especially when sh*ts goin' down... Please excuse my language.  But other people seem like they could use a little more happiness, even when sh*ts NOT going down.  So I'm here to share my secret theory of happiness:

Your mood doesn't have to be based on the number of good things and bad things that you're experiencing.  If you live life being content if and only if the good outweigh the bad, get ready for a long life of unhappiness-- you might not ever break even.  Abandon this method of mood determination and reclaim your happiness.  Stop waiting for the world to give you a reason to be happy, because...

You don't have to have a reason to be happy!  It might sound nutty, but take it from someone who's annoyingly happy for no reason 92% of the time (no one's perfect), this is a foolproof way to live!  Just try it-- wake up tomorrow and tell yourself that you're going to be happy.  And then when anything bad rolls your way, brush it off, instead of letting it consume you.  (Also, problems are easier to solve when you're not upset/unhappy).  So decide to be happy just because you want to be. And who doesn't want to be happy?

If this craziness is a little too much for you, take baby steps and be happy for the little things.  Be happy because 10 people read your blog post instead of just 5. If that boy you're crushing on sends you a text message, let that instant grin spread over your whole self and warm your heart, too.  Be happy because someone "liked" your Facebook status, or because it's sunny outside.  Take pleasure in the little things and use them to bolster your good mood, or turn around a bad mood.  Today, I switched my usual lunch of peanut butter and rice cakes for a salmon burger on a croissant.  And it totally recharged me from a crumby morning.

And if you're still trying to find a reason to be upbeat, come find me -- smiles are always contagious and you can bet I'm sporting one! :)

L

PS:  If you can name the movie I'm referencing with my title here, text me/call me/email me and I'll include you in my next post.  So get ready to be famous!  Just beware-- I'm the one creating the nicknames...