- I have an insanely awesome family that I don't see often enough.
- There was this killer wedding. On a bridge.
- It led to an equally killer night. A night that didn't end until the next morning.
- I chopped my hair off. I love it.
- I love my cadets. I just hate my job.
- There was an MS Walk. It was humid and hot as hell. It rocked.
And in other, less pictorial, news....
- I love yoga. Who knew?
- I love tattoos even more. One down, a bunch more to go.
- I love my friends. I hate false friends. They make me more cynical. Fuck them.
- I still need to go on a diet.
(The longer version of the above events follows..... feel free to not read it.... unless you're really lacking in anything else to do on a Sunday night.)
So my cousin got married in Pittsburgh many weekends back and it was epic. The whole evening. First? They closed down the Roberto Clemente bridge to have their ceremony right in the middle at sunset - complete with fireworks as they kissed. It was beautiful. No wedding will ever compare in sheer originality - barring anyone getting married on the edge of a volcano. Complete with a virgin sacrifice, of course. (which clearly will be no one from my side of the family.)
Reception followed - complete with a photobooth. Which, of course, held no interest for me whatsoever until I was good and lit up. Then? No holds barred. And lots of kissy-face photos. Apparently I have cheek bones that way. Who knew they were there? I will now be making crazy kissy-faces in all photos. Ever. I've never been appropriate anyway.
At some point we ended up on the roof which we were not supposed to be on. I totally did not ruin my heels on all the stones that were up there. Since we weren't ever there in the first place. But seriously? Wow. Ruined. And totally worth it. If I was a dude? I would have been peeing off the edge with the others. Although we were never there. So I know nothing of which I speak.
There was a stumbling walk back to the very fancy, upscale, hotel a few blocks away, laden down with the leftover liquor that was remaining. (I mean, hey, can't let that go to waste!) ((anyone have any clue what the fuck to do with a bottle of Vermouth??)) I took my nylons off in the fancy lobby and stuffed them in the cushions of the very impressive looking lobby couches. (my apologies to whoever found them.... if they have been found...) Someone called a cab - I'm guessing the front desk guy who wanted the seven drunks out of his lobby at 4am? - and we were off to Primanti Bros.
Cut to many sandwiches, fries, and an hour+ later, we're yelling at the douche-canoe cabbie who wouldn't let us all pile in one car, and we're hoofing it back to the other end of the city. Or it may have been just a few blocks. Hell if I know. Fortunately another cabbie with a van picked us up and saved us from walking all night. Or morning, as it was now roughly 6am. Fall into bed, asleep by 7am, awake by 9am. Thanks Nate. So glad your alarm on your phone was so super effective. For me. ;-)
My family really does rock. I have so many awesome cousins who are each completely awesome in their own unique way - and yet there is one common thread that binds us all together. That thread? Alcohol. Oh, and food. We are greek after all. I love them all with all my heart. And I can't wait to see them again. They make me feel whole.
In other news, I chopped my hair off. After years of having it midway down my back, it's now hanging out somewhere between my chin and shoulders. And I love it. I've realized that with the right amount of product and time? I have really great hair. The odd thing is, I have received many compliments from my female friends.... and much dislike from my male friends. (well, those who know me well enough to be honest anyway.) So, I am thinking this is one of two things. Either, it looks good and the women know it (because clearly they have better taste than men), OR, it looks horrid, and all my women friends are catty bitches who love that I have bad hair. Really, it could go either way. No matter what, men seem to like long hair better. Duh. It's clearly a caveman thing.
I don't care. I'm keeping it short. For now anyway. It's sort of badass, despite the picture above not conveying all it's 50's bombshell-esque glory.
It's now early May. Which means soon my seniors will graduate and leave to carry on with the beginnings of their "adult" life, and I will miss them all terribly. It has been an awful year and a wonderful year all at the same time - most of the wonderful coming from my boys. I truly love being "cadet-mom" to many dozen teenage boys. How could you not love them? I really don't know how. I will miss them.
They supported me in my MS walk this year. The walk was actually today, so I guess this brings us up to speed. While only a few were able to be there with me, many were with me in spirit, and it was a great day. Add to that my friends, coworkers, and family, and we had over 40 people walking with team "holes in my brain". In bright pink shirts. My cadets picked the color. Yes, seriously. They are, apparently, comfortable in their masculinity and in pepto pink. They never fail to amuse and inspire me. (I will remember this the next time they push me to my breaking point.)
I've also discovered that I really like yoga. No, I think I love it a little. There is definitely a serious crush going on anyway. I didn't think I would like it. I thought I was just doing it to try to improve some of my MS impacted balance issues. I didn't expect it to keep me from being so hateful and stabby all the time. It's probably saved at least one person from getting a bic pen straight into their forehead on a bad day. It is also a weekly reminder that I need a pedicure.
(I do still need a pedicure.)
I did, however, get my first tattoo. It was just a small one, on the outside of my right thigh, just above my knee - the site of my first numb spot.... which was conveniently not numb the day of the inking. But the pain was far less than I was expecting. My daily injections are actually worse, I think. I now plan on getting the one on my back done within the next few weeks. I may have to come back and reread this when that one hurts way worse than my leg did. Still? Totally worth it. I already have ideas for three more after my back. (go big or go home, right?)
Also? I love my friends. My true friends. Those who love and have stood by me - near and far - through good times and MS times and just plain ugly hysterical times. I've recently come to realize that someone who I thought was among those friends, is not. It took me about 20 months to realize that a pattern of disregard for my feelings was not merely an oversight on his part but a callous lack of caring. Which, really, I suppose was not actually his fault if he never really cared for me to begin with - it may have been my misunderstanding right from the start - as I don't usually find myself in a position of having to cynically evaluate someone's intentions.... but.... now that I know better? He can kiss my fat white ass.
The only kind thing I have to say at this point is that people like him? Make me realize the value of people who are not like him. I will not let this effect my innate nature. I will continue to love others openly and without reserve or fear of being hurt or taken for granted. And I will not take my friends for granted. I am blessed. And there is no room for him in my life. My cup runneth over.
And so does my waistband, unfortunately. I really do need to drop some weight and focus on getting my health back on track.
So, with that, I will finish my drink and get to bed.