oh my gosh times infinity

I don’t think I’ve mentioned this, which is completely unbelievable, but I’d better say it now or else it won’t get discussed until after the fact, and then the excitement won’t be as…anticipatory. I guess it won’t really be anticipatory at all after the fact, though, will it? I couldn’t be. But anticipatory excitement is the best, is it not? (What’s with these tag questions I’m so keen on tonight? I’m not British, am I?) Because after an event is over, the excitement really isn’t excitement at all. It’s more like nostalgia at that point, which is what I’ll have next week AFTER MY 10 YEAR HIGH SCHOOL REUNION THIS WEEKEND!!!!

Oh my gosh, I am peeing on myself just thinking about it! And I really can’t explain why. I mean, most of the people I really care about seeing are the ones I see fairly regularly anyway, so it’s not like we need a special get-together time to catch up. And it’s not that I don’t care about seeing all the other people who are going to be there. Quite the opposite, in fact. They’re the ones I am so excited to see. I am just so curious about what has happened to them in the past ten years. Where have they been? What have they done with themselves? Who have they become? It’s fascinating.

I really don’t even know what I’m expecting. I think it will probably be like meeting a lot of strangers for the first time who kind of remind me of people I used to see a lot. I don’t think I really knew them back then. The ones I did really know, I still do know. But these “new” people I’m going to meet – I really want to know them now. Maybe that’s the exciting part. Not that I want to know them, but that they’ve grown into who they are, and now I can know them. Really them. Not the fake, high school versions of them that were all wrapped up in popularity (or lack thereof), extracurricular activities and whatever else high schoolers find their identity in.

Now I just have to decide what to WEAR!

black Monday

Shrouded neath a veil of tears,
My tortured heart beats feebly,
Remembering the blushing hope I once knew.
Oh my heart, be strong!
For ne’er did he e’en know of thy love.
Ah yes, that were the pain of pains
That had he known, we two might be one,
Living a life of love and laughter. And love –
A Westwood wonderland.
But alas, a supposed betrothed,
An alleged fiancée
Hath rent us in twain!

for my public

HI! HI!! HOW ARE YOU GUYS?? OH how I have missed you! Have you missed me? Did you cry every day that I didn’t update you on every juicy detail of my fairly mundane life? Awww…sorries! Here’s what’s been going on:

My precious friend Emily got married this weekend, which is VERY strange and somewhat surreal. It hasn’t really sunk in to me yet, so it feels rather like they went to a great deal of trouble to play an elaborate and expensive joke on me. I probably won’t realize that it’s real until the first time she makes reference to the fact that she regularly has sex now. At which point I will simultaneously crap myself, drive off the road into a ditch and vomit the very non-vegan chocolate cake I ate at her rehearsal dinner.

But until then, I’m just going to live in denial.

The wedding was SO much fun. The ceremony itself was pretty simple, and I did my hair into a sort of 80’s prom do. Then we made some pictures before heading over to the John A. Walker Community Center (where I hadn’t been since senior prom, 1998) for a good two hours of incredibly sober spastic dancing.

So just to recap: 80’s prom hair + spastic dancing + WILKESBORO!!!!! = fun times had by me. I shall post photos as soon as I get some worthwhile ones. I didn’t take that many because my batt’ries were dying

OH! And my parents were there, which was great. They’re pretty fabulous, and I always enjoy seeing them. They got there Friday night in time to hit up the Wilkes Central basketball game, where they saw one Mr. Matthew Hagaman, who I’m told made mention, not once but twice (!), of how good I looked when he saw me at homecoming. To that, I have two responses:

  1. I know right? I looked way hott that night.
  2. It sounds to me like somebody’s harboring some feelings for me. Am I wrong?

As for the non-vegan chocolate cake, I’m quite certain it wasn’t the only thing I ate that wasn’t vegan. In fact, I don’t know how I’d do it if I were to live there. Our meal options at the rehearsal dinner were steak, steak or fish with mashed potatoes and steamed veggies, and when I asked for a veggie/potato plate, the woman looked at me as though I’d asked her to be the surrogate mother of my babies. It was a look of utter confusion unlike any I’d ever seen before, reminiscent of the scene in Everything is Illuminated when Elijah Wood asks for a meatless dish. If you haven’t seen this movie, please do so immediately. It’s spectacular.

Anyhoe, by the end of Friday night, I’d pretty much decided to relax on the veganism for the weekend and just enjoy my time there with Emily, so I had a delicious piece of chocolate cake, and I liked it. But now I’m back to normal, and my body is much happier about it.

Ok! My self-imposed 10:30 internet curfew is quickly approaching, so I’m out, but I am happy to be back with you all. I hope you missed me a little.

note to future husband hopefuls

In case anyone has ever wondered, in no particular order, the following are things I look for in a Matt…I mean man.

  • has his priorities straight (ie: Jesus, then family/me, then work, etc.)
  • makes me laugh until my face hurts/gets and laughs at my jokes as well (we play off of each other)
  • is a willing, if not skilled, dancer (My family reunion boasts a traditional square dance. Go ahead. Ridicule us. I dare you.)
  • loves to travel and is a good travel buddy (laid-back, adventuresome, not too rigid in his planning)
  • can have a conversation that flows freely from intelligent to ridiculous and back again
  • shows sufficient mastery of the English language
  • likes what he does for a living
  • is trustworthy (huge implications here)
  • gets along well with my family/has a family I get along well with
  • doesn’t feel the need to constantly entertain or be entertained – likes entertaining and entertainment, but is ok with silence and down time
  • is hott (totally subjective, I know, but it’s really not terribly difficult as long as you don’t wear turtlenecks or shirts with fish on them)

**Bonus points for participating in my impromptu theatrical song-and-dance numbers either in the living room, in public or in Europe.

I’m not 100% sure why I felt the need to reveal this to you, but if you ever see me going after someone who does not embody these things, do me a favor and whack me upside the head. And if you feel that you are this man, I am always accepting applications. Thank you. That is all.

good one

I dreamed that I was in WILKESBORO!!!!!, and I was riding around Westwood Hills (a large subdivision, home to many friends growing up) on a bike, which is quite difficult because Westwood Hills is very hilly. Hence the name.  Anyhoe, as I was riding around on my bike, I happened upon a party hosted by one Matt Hagaman, who apparently bought a house in Westwood Hills within the last few years. Everyone was outside having a grand time, and there was some dancing going on. I propped my bike up against a wall somewhere and joined in. Matt Hagaman, by the way, had grown at least six inches, put on roughly 100 pounds and morphed into a very different looking sort of creature. He was a human man, to be sure, but he didn’t look like himself at all. He actually looked kind of like a guy I work with, who doesn’t look anything at all like Matt Hagaman. Not one bit. But I knew it was him, and he asked me to dance, and knowing it was him, I gladly accepted.

So we get out on the “dance floor,” which is just a roped-off part of the lawn, and the song is kind of slow. It’s not “Unchained Melody” slow, but more like “Just the Way You Are” speed. I guess we’ll call it moderate. But the fool gets out there and starts trying to dance with me as though “Jump Jive and Wail” is playing, and I’m all, “Dude, calm down. It’s a slow jam.” But he’s all awkward with girls all of a sudden, and he’s nervous and uncoordinated, and he winds up just going to bed while an awesome dance party breaks out in his yard. Tragic. Just tragic.

keeping the dream alive sans dairy

Oh friends, last night I dreamed that I had detention. Now, detention was held in what seemed to be a summer camp arts-and-crafts cabin, and there was no real reason for me to go, but I kept going anyway because Matt Hagaman also had detention. And now that I think about it, we are the same age, so there’s no reason for him to have had to go either. He must have wanted to see me too. Anyhoe, I was making vegan pizza in detention when some girl came in talking about how she was going to eat it, but when she found out it was vegan, she turned her nose up at it and walked away. I then walked past the table of GED students to the doorway where Matt Hagaman was eating rice and beans and smoking (eww), but the smoke didn’t smell at all, so I sat down and started eating his rice and beans too.

Then, suddenly, I was in a meeting of some sort, and I didn’t know most of the people there, but the meeting was being led by my old youth minister, Roy, and Whitney was sitting beside me dressed in a bear costume.  The conversation at the meeting turned to the Avon Walk, and as I was telling people about it, I found that I was actually at the Avon Walk. I had finished the first day, and I felt great! My feet didn’t hurt, my knee didn’t hurt, my legs were fine. I wasn’t even all that tired! I think it was prophetic.

That’s funny. I don’t FEEL like a giant.

Well, public. Here they are. They pictures you’ve been waiting for! No, not my nasty feet pictures (you’ll get those next week). HOMECOMING PICTURES!!!

group shot

When you’re there, in the moment, not thinking about anything but the memories you’re making and the hot guy working the concession stand, you don’t realize that you are a foot taller than everyone else. Seriously? When did I grow 8 feet?

THESE are spirit fingers!

THESE…are Spirit Fingers!!

    I’m SO excited (and I just can’t hide it)

    Tomorrow night is Wilkes Central High School’s HOMECOMING!!!! And I’m not sure how many years of doing something it takes before said something is officially a tradition, but we’re going to go ahead and call it that even though this will only be the second year we’ve gone. So I’ll be making the traditional annual pilgrimage to Wilkesboro tomorrow afternoon, where I will rendezvous with Emily Furr, et al and head to the game. She emailed me earlier and said that there’s a possibility we could get in for free because her brother is working at the game. I asked were it not sad that we are independent, professional, working adults trying to sneak into a high school football game, but then I decided that free is free, and I’ll take it. (Haha…I just reminded myself of The Legend of Billie Jean…”Fair is fair!”)

    So I have to decide tonight what I’m going to wear to the game. My new sassy pants are a given, as are my gold cowchick boots. The top, however, is still up in the air. It’s going to be chilly, no doubt, so whatever I’m wearing will probably be covered up by my letter jacket anyway, but what if Matt Hagaman wants to go out to the Applebee’s after the game? I’ll need to be prepared with a complete, stunning outfit for “when the letter jacket comes off” (wink wink, nudge nudge). Any suggestions?

    dagger in my heart

    I just got home from the Shane and Shane concert, which, though very good, was not their best. Don’t get me wrong; I had a good time, and I’m glad I went, but I’ve enjoyed past concerts more than this one. Part of it was that Shane E. was sick and not singing much. Part of it was that I was really tired, and I started to go into introverted mode somewhere toward the end of the first opening band, which meant that I was kind of ready to leave by intermission. And part of it was Shane B. dropping the bomb that he is engaged. To Bethany Dillon. Who is literally 18 years old, making her over a decade younger than he is.

    Now, hear me very clearly here. I have no problem with the age discrepancy. And not that I know her personally, but she’s very talented, and she seems to be pretty decent. And I’ve met Shane one time (he signed my Bimbo bear), so he really doesn’t know me from Adam’s house cat, but even if we had known each other from birth, I’ve never found him particularly attractive physically (though I would marry his voice in a heartbeat), so it’s not like I had any fanciful notions of marrying him myself (not really). But when he said that they were engaged, a little part of me died inside. Just like when I found out Bebo’d gotten hitched.

    I think it’s just having the knowledge that another talented, solid, eligible Christian man has been taken off the market. And then the subsequent thought that I am 27 with no prospects or plans to lower my standards, and the pool of said bachelors has just gotten smaller. Whilst an 18-year-old has just gotten engaged. I swear if she has someone play “At Last” at her wedding…

    Maybe Dawn’s right, and my biological clock is ticking. I think I’ll consider that further over a pint…of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie. Oh Matt, come quickly, and rescue me from my imminent death by chocolate…and heartache.

    (She falls, faint, onto the bed, dropping both ice cream and chocolate-covered spoon to the floor. Full stage blackout. Curtain.) 

    Greetings from Scrubland!

    Dear Recipient,

    I am surrounded by creepy plastic body parts, urine-catching apparatuses and scrub-clad people who are not yet employed in the healthcare industry. I think they just want to work in a hospital because scrubs are so comfy, not to mention the fact that it’s also a rather hilarious show (sigh…Zach Braff=Matt of my dreams). If scrub pants were jeans and scrub tops were t-shirts, I’d want to work in healthcare too. Alas…

    Wish you were here! love,

    Beth