When I was a kid the must have accessory for girls was the "Best Friend" necklace. Two pieces of a heart put together to spell best friends, BF, or BFF. A girl coming into school with one would result in an American Idol style try out.
"I brought you cupcakes."
"Here's an invite to my birthday party!
"Remember that time I gave you a kidney?"
I would watch this weird display, shrug my shoulders and run off to punch a boy. I was never one to hang out with girls, my mom raised me a tom-boy so the hair, makeup, skirt, clean nails life style was not one I was familiar with. I took part in the guy world, belching the whole way through. This resulted in two things happening;
*I'm best friends with my husband
*I can count the number of close girlfriends I have had on my right hand
Whoa, whoa, don't start feeling bad for me. Remember that friend you had as a kid that you told a deep secret to and then she told a bunch of people? How about that friend in high school that slept with your boyfriend? Or what about the friend that always brings you down, isn't supportive, hates when you succeed?
I've avoided all of this.
Don't get me wrong, I do like having a girl friend and I do like it when I find a girl that fits the one category I need filled;
A girl that gets me.
I am a complicated woman. I'm spazzy, spontaneous, loud, and blunt. I say too much and regret it later. I will make a scene for a joke. But at the end of the day I can be a good friend, someone you can talk to, someone that will send you a gift just because you are blue, someone that will sacrifice a little of her dignity to make you laugh.
I'm also low maintenance. You don't have to worry about me being needy or competitive or feeding off of you. I don't need a lot of phone calls/emails/visits.
It's really that easy.
But before you start sending my emails wanting to be new bestie, know this; being one of my good friends means you will move or I will move away. Don't believe me?
Danielle Bacon, 1st grade- I moved to Detroit (think about how weird it is going to be for her if she ever Googles herself and finds this)
Allison (shoot, I just can't remember her last name right now), freshman year of high school- She moved away
Michelle Owens, college- she transfered out
Leslie, bartending- I moved to Chicago
And now?
This past weekend I threw Jenn a going away party since she is moving to LA. I met Jenn through blogging early on but it took a trip to IKEA to see that this girl was different. She had a cute charm with just enough nerdiness. She would catch me off-guard with her quirky wit and I felt like I had met a match when it came to my weirdness. I left lunch smiling.
The relationship grew into emails, side jokes, shared eye rolling. Soon I was making jokes about dating her (and grumbling about her not putting out). We would contact each other when we just HAD to bitch about something we saw/read/heard and then assured each other that this really didn't make us evil. I can now run up to her and yell "Demon!" and she will laugh.
The big part of our friendship is how much I respect her. She was different in the fact that she has some serious drive to succeed but not to the point that it defines her. She will do what she needs to do to grow in the working world but still keep down to earth. Work late? No problem. Fly to other cities? Okay! Organize events? Just tell her when you want it.
I enjoy living vicariously through her. While I have no regrets in my life I do know that I am limited in my job freedom. I couldn't take a job in LA so instead I have Jenn. I swoon with her over celebrity spottings, giggle as she tells me about the slide in her office (you read that right), and sigh when she tells me about the weather and the pool in her complex.
She's living the good life and I'm so very happy for her.
So Jenn, go kick some ass in LA and know that you will always have someone to kill zombies with in Chicago (but not play the drums, I hate the drums)
Step 1- Prepare yourself for the interview
I was tired when I woke up that morning. My internal clock had been thrown off by my night in The Devil's Waiting Room, Ohio. Luckily with this being an interview for retail I decided to go with my first interview personality.
I can give you two types of interviews, 1) The "Here I am, this is who I am" style or 2) The "Holy crap, I am so professional so you HAVE hire me...please?" style. I've only had success with type 1, type 2 comes out when I am horribly nervous.
After getting Diana off to school I threw on a pair of black pants, maroon top, black boots, and a star necklace (cause I'm a STAR!....I learned that from Glee). Unbeknownst to me I had apparently put on my hair magnet pants. Every time I looked down I had a cat's worth of hair on my legs. Then I started to have mystery dustings on my knees. I would wack my legs to rub it off, hit my knee Boo-boo (from Duck Duck Goose....stupid Ohio), swear a bunch and STILL have stuff on my pants. Finally I gave up and headed out.
Step 2- Get interviewed
I was 15 minutes early so I told them my name and settled in with my book. After a while they called me in, commenting on me being prepared with a book. I promptly told them that this was a good reason to hire me.
Laughs all around.
No seriously.....
As I went into the room the worker introduced me to the interviewer.
"Sally this is Kathy, Kathy this is Sally."
..................
"Why hello Kathy!"
"Actually my name is Rachel."
"Oh! I am soooo sorry! I just need to get your file...."
"Well if Kathy was going to get the job I'm perfectly willingly to be Kathy."
Laughs all around.
But seriously.......
After we had the right file she started to ask me the basic interview questions. Finally she asked me;
"Why do you want to work for our company?"
What I wanted to say- "Because you guys are the only people that called me back! The economy sucks!"
What I really said- "Your company is known to be professionals. It's clean, well kept, the products are high quality and reasonably priced."
She nodded enthusiastically. Then I said;
"....and I really love Project Runway....."
The second the words left my mouth I could feel my cheeks get hot. Did I really just say that? Do they really hire based off of what TV shows I could name that uses their products?
Well okay then.
Step 3- Nail interview
The actual interview lasted 5-7 minutes. They had me sit back outside while they talked about me. Two minutes later they brought me into another room;
"Well Sally was REALLY impressed with you."
Seriously? She asked me about three questions and I impressed her? Awesome!
"So you signed up to work nights?"
"Wait, what? Um....no."
"Oh you want to work early mornings?"
"What are those hours?"
"5 am till whenever."
*cue record scratch*
5 am?! Ohhhhhh man. When they stepped out of the room I sent a text saying Got job 5 am start okay?
Nothing came back
When they came back in I had to make a decision. Someone had to take Diana to school in the mornings. I knew that Frank's job was a seasonal one that was ending soon and that Dan has some flexibility. So I came to a conclusion. We could use more money (honestly who couldn't use more money) and no one was hiring. Everyone was going to have help out.
"I can do 5 am." *gulp*
"Congratulations you are the new On Call Early Merchandising Support Staff!"
"Yippee!"
...............
Oh god, why am I allowed to speak?
Step 4- Call family and tell them the good news!
As I left I checked to see if Dan ever answered my text, then I realized that since I had been in a basement it never sent. Well shoot.
I called him and told him the good news.
"Wait, you are On Call?"
"Yep!"
"Well they are at least going to call you earlier then the night before if they need you right?"
".........."
"Right?"
"Dan, I'm not a doctor. I'm working retail. I'm not going to have an emergency pager or a Bat phone."
"Yeah......that sounded wrong as soon as the words came out of my mouth."
"Trust me, I know exactly how you feel."
So what is your worst interview story?
It was cold in Chicago that Saturday evening. I had read the weather report for Sunday at DC and it said 70 and sunny. I didn't want to pack too much so I wore a lighter, comfy outfit to march in, but at that moment I was regretting it. Dan handed me my bags, loaded with entertainment for a 14 hour bus ride, gave me a kiss and wished me luck. As soon as I turned around I was approached by a man with a clipboard.
"Want to sign our petition for Jacob Meister?" I looked at him, at my arms of loaded stuff, and at the group of people already gathering.
"Um.....who?"
"He's running for office as an openly gay candidate."
"Oh okay!"
"...and he's giving everyone snack bags for the bus ride"
"Awesome! Then I guess I'll give you my real name!"
After I signed their paper I looked around for familiar faces. It felt like I was the new kid at a very fashionable school. The people I did know from JTI were crazy busy trying to keep things organized and I didn't want to get in their way. Finally I saw three people I had met at the poster making party. I had spent an hour with them there, surely they wouldn't mind me hanging out with them for 14 more?
After a little bit we found out we could get our bus assignments. Since we were freezing we wanted to get on a bus right away so we got in line for bus #1.
If you listen closely you hear future Rachel screaming "Noooooooooooooo!"
Finally all 53 of us were on and ready to go. We made jokes, laughed at porn, watched the first half of Season 1 of "Maude", etc. The energy and excitement filled the bus. We were going to witness history! Then we got on the highway......
"Um..is anyone else feeling that vibration?"
Soon the back of the bus was turned into one huge vibrator. Our feet were numb, our eyes were shaking, our ears were filled with the protests from the bus.
After a while we pulled into a rest area in the middle of Nowhere, Ohio. I saw our bus captain Matty immediately put on his game face as he approached the bus driver. There was a lot of pointing at the bus, serious nodding, and phone calls being made. None of us thought much of it, my focus was taking care of my angry bladder. I took off at a polite run yelling "Excuse me! My bladder doesn't DO bus bathrooms!!!" as I weaved in and out of people.
Once that emergency was averted I strolled into the food section of the rest area. Hardees was the only place open at midnight and I giggled as the surprised employees ran around trying to feed the 50 people in line. I am not a fan of Hardees (especially at those prices!) and decided to get snacks at the little shop around the corner. Two Tabasco Slim Jims, a bag of Pepperoni Pizza Combos, and a Coke later I found my little group and sat down.
Spirits were still high in Ohio so we spent the time joking, eating, and talking about the rest of the trip on our bus (officially labeled "The Vibrator"). We saw Matty and Missy running around a bunch, talking frantically on their phones. Then the rumors started flying from different people;
"They are sending a mechanic."
"They are sending another bus."
"They are sending a mechanic and then a bus."
"They are sending a new bus, but on the way home we have to stop here and get back on this bus and ride it the rest of the to Chicago."
"It should be fixed soon."
I decided to not believe anything until I heard directly from Missy or Matty. Instead we started playing Boggle. Our little group (Mariela, Farrin, Michael, & Jerry) soon expanded to MJ and Messina. After one game the 7 of us were laughing, swearing, and bonding. I decided to show my true colors so I was playing standing on a chair, ass in the air pointed at any poor soul that decided to visit Ohio, spewing out such classic one liners as "Wait.....we get to use school in this game?!"
More time passed.
Matty and Missy's updates became fewer and fewer. Their phone calls became more and more. Time past faster and faster.
Around 1 AM the group's attitude shifted. You were able to pick the realists from the hopeful. I was surprised to learn that I was a hopefulist. Messina and I did the math and tried to tell people that as long as we left in the next 3 hours we would be okay. Michael and Farrin told us that we weren't calculating the extra time it would take us to get through Pennsylvania due to the mountains. People started talking about heading back so that we could at least make it back in time for the Chicago Rally.
More time passed.
Finally the moment arrived. Missy and Matty had us circle up. I can't imagine how they felt as they stood in front of 51 faces, 51 faces that still had a slight glimmer of hope.
"We have called everywhere. Bus companies, van companies, car companies, everywhere. We can't get anything. Our bus company has a bus, but they can't find a driver. As of right now we are missing the March. It seems likely we are missing the rally afterwards."
The air left that spot in Ohio.
"I'm sorr-" Missy's voice cracked, the tears came. The weight of the world finally hit this woman. Every muscle in this mom wanted to hug her, but I knew my place. These members of JTIC were staying so strong for us even though the dream that they had worked on for so very, very long was slipping through their fingers. At that moment I loved and respected these people so much and I believe everyone else did too.
53 people had a decision to make. In the Devil's Waiting Room, Ohio 53 people decided that even though they will literally missing a once in a lifetime opportunity we were ALL going to stay upbeat. So you just got told you weren't going to DC, what are you going to do now?
Play Duck, Duck, Goose of course!
Thanks to Farrin for this AMAZING photo (I'm the one in red with a white hat)
The bus filled up and was as silent. I took a muscle relaxer and played my Nintendo in the dark. Finally I felt tired and settled in to get some of the sleep I desperately needed.My eyes closed....
Well there you go. You have officially missed the March. You have to go home and tell everyone what happened. This was a major moment in history and you missed it.
My eyes shot open...
The bus was silent.
I closed my eyes again....
You got screwed. All of you did. Why did the bus company let this happen? You are going to hear all about the March on the internet and you didn't make it!
My eyes opened again and my fists clenched.
It all hit me. The anger, the despair......why did this happen to us?! I felt my face start to heat up, my eyes burned and my vision blurred. I wanted to punch the window, scream and swear.
But what good would it do me?
After my temper tantrum I would still be on a bus heading to Chicago. I would only get everyone else worked up, either mad about the situation or mad at me.
I stared out the window, watching the miles between DC and I expand. When I opened my eyes the sun was up and we were at a rest area in Indiana. We had to face the hardest task of the trip. Calling friends and family to tell them they we didn't make it. We had to say it out loud, making it truly real.
I fell asleep again.
When I woke we were just passing Gary, Indiana. I was in Hell.
Finally the Chicago skyline appeared. My heart sank. We were supposed to be here! We knew that right now the other 3 buses were seeing a completely different view, the right view. No one spoke for a while.
The bus finally pulled up at Union Station. People were talking about staying around for the Chicago rally. I looked at my thin clothes and the thick jackets people outside were wearing. There was no way I was going to last outside in Chicago without losing my nose and fingers. Besides, the muscle relaxer had kicked in. I was a zombie and the best I could do was wander into the station, moaning "Trrraaaaaaiiiiinnnnnsssss......."
I bought my ticket, ate a Cinnabon, boarded my train and fell asleep.
Dan and Diana picked me up from the station. Diana ran to me yelling "Mommy!!!!", Dan gave me a hug the way only a partner can, my brother Frank called and offered to buy me a burrito. It was nice. Once I got home though my hopeful mood had died and I just wanted to sleep.
The cloud stayed over my head into Monday morning. By then the rest of the buses were home and people were starting to post pictures, stories, videos.
I ignored them.
After my cup of coffee though I realized I was being a child. So what that I wasn't there! It doesn't make the March any less important. I wasn't going to DC for me, I was going for the LGBT community. I had made some AMAZING friends Saturday night and I couldn't just pout and give up. This trip, this journey, gave me actual faces to fight for, actual people that I wanted to see get their equal rights.
So how am I doing?
I'm good and I'm ready to continue the fight.
The day has arrived! This Sunday roughly 300 LGBT members & their straight allies will be heading to Washington DC to demand full Federal Rights for ALL! We couldn't have done it without YOUR help either. The donations you guys made for my fundraiser helped secure the 1st bus and show people that we CAN DO THIS!
So thank you readers, thank you so VERY VERY much for helping out.
P.S. I will be Tweeting live my full adventure! Follow me here to know what is happening, when it happens!
I saw her across the rink, helping her kids put on their roller skates. I glided over, dodging sugar buzzed kids, enjoying the freedom one can only feel when they have wheels on their feet. My freedom was promptly interrupted when I realized with horror that my darling husband had removed the brakes from my skates.
When he skates he hates the brakes, when I skate my life depends on them.
I ended up folded in half over the short wall, gasping for air that wouldn't come.
Her kids found this funny.
I guess it would count as a win for now.
When I could stand again I yelled;
"You know you can skate too right?"
My throat protested my efforts to yell over the DJ's family safe "rock". I had learned a hard lesson the day before when I attempted to scream at a hockey game with a chest cold. Now I could only squeak and crack.
"Oh, I can't. I'm pregnant."
I hoped that she mistook my slight stagger as clumsiness on skates.
I hoped that she mistook my voice cracking when I said "Oh that's wonderful!" because of my damaged throat.
I hoped that she mistook my hands fluttering around because I'm a spaz.
"Well congratulations! I see some of Diana's cousins coming, I'll see you around the rink!" I skated off, blocking out the Vegas sounds of the nearby arcade. I finally found a hidden corner where I could sit and breath for a moment.
I thought I was over this, I thought I had built my wall strong enough, but I guess I was wrong. Dealing with my infertility has been rough lately. The church is full of babies, large families, beautiful bellies holding life. Not having the second child has made me feel incomplete.
Like when you are suffering from the hiccups and you are waiting for that next one to come.....and it never does. That moment when your body is tensed up, your breathing changes, the anticipation.....
That's how I feel every moment of everyday.
In my corner I finally get a grip, count my blessings, and fix the mask I wear for my public appearances.
It'll be alright.
He's starting to snore again.
Well, not snore exactly. Just that pre-snore breathing that I know will only take a slight shift in weight, a tiny drop of spit, a slight plug of snot to turn the breathing into the familiar sawing of wood that can keep me up all night.
I'm a preventer so I place my hand on his chest in the hope that he isn't too far gone. Sometimes just my touch can cause him to shift towards me. This position seems to be the perfect one for his airways.....not so much for his back.
He doesn't move.
I softly shake him.
Nothing.
Finally I flip the "nag wife" switch, dismiss his sleep for my comfort and shake him. Hard.
"zzzzwhat?"
"You were snoring."
"No I wasn't."
While he is right I know that I was the one person awake during the moment so the disagreement was easily won by my logic;
"Yes you were!"
"...fine..."
He settles himself in and is quickly out again. Men get to enjoy that skill their entire lives, the ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. While I was never a heavy sleeper, as soon I became a mother I kissed deep sleep good bye. I am now always ready for Diana's bad dream, cough, fussiness, sneaking in late with peach schnapps on her breath. Everything. But being the selfish woman I am now I tend to wake up at the first "Mommy!", figure out that it's only a "I can't find my doll" type of "Mommy", and poke Dan to go help. It takes a moment for him to figure out what is going on, wipe the dreams from his eyes (most likely about lamb chops), and he is off on the white horse made specifically for Daddies.
I am willing to sacrifice a quick moment to be a superhero if it means I can stay under the covers. Besides I'm with her all day, I kiss all the boo-boos, soothe her broken heart, find the missing tiny toy that she has to find RIGHT NOW! I have earned this moment.
Quickly he is back and asleep again.
Finally I feel sleep start to poke at me. I nestle in deeper to my pillows and wait patiently for it to finally grab me. I know how hard it is for sleep to catch me so I appreciate the fall. It's satisfying.
I'm awake.
Dan has taken his revenge on me.
I use a large pillow for between my legs since the years of running have made my hips at least 10 years older. This pillow tends to turn into a padded weapon during the night as I settle into my fetal position. Dan often is awoken by it jammed into his back. When he brings this up during the day I tend to counter with "now you know how I feel" and he replies with "well you can take care of MINE, but you always say you are too tired". It's 3 AM, what other answer would he expect?
Anyway, when he is woken up by this he knows he doesn't have to say anything. All he has to do is flip over, heavily. This easily disturbs my card house of sleep and I am woken up. I will grunt a sorry and shift away. 30 seconds later he is back asleep and I'm back to having sleep try to chase me down.
30 minutes later the race is over.
For over 8 years we have done this dance. When we talk about it, complain about it, fight about it, it always stops at the same point.
"Well do you want me to sleep on the couch?"
Neither one of us wants that. We both take comfort in that dent of the other person's body next to us. I like being able to reach over when I have a bad dream. Feeling his broad chest in the dark gives me a level of comfort that no pill, cup of tea, glass of wine, ever could. His hand will crawl across the gap between us, sneak under my blanket, and softly cup my bottom. The sigh that escapes his lips when his hand finds his mark is not one of desire but of safety.
Everything is where it's supposed to be.
That moment when you are willing to give up a few minutes/hours of comfortable sleep just to have the person you love in the same bed as you.
That's the true sign of marriage.
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