Facebook

So a while ago I joined the ranks of the Facebook folks. It's been interesting. I use it mostly to talk to my brother in Arkansas, my former high school best friends, and of all people,


The Dude (!)

I've had longer, better, and more in-depth conversations with the Dude via chat than I'm able to in person many times. If there was only a "hug" feature, Facebook would be the champion of my marriage right now.


I have to be a little careful- the Dude tends to have the monitor so anyone can see the screen, and I've been known to send him a racy note or two. But it makes my life a little interesting. I like interesting.

I love that I can pop on, talk to my wonderful man for a few minutes, and then jet about on with my regular day. FB chat makes my evenings go more quickly, helps me keep things in perspective, and generally reminds me that there are two of us in this crazy partnership. It makes going to bed alone a little more tolerable.

More on Passion

In the Family Fued kind of world, if you were to ask a set group of people who is more passionate- the Dude or me, the answer would almost definitely be The Dude.

He's a red head. He's got a hot temper. He likes to share his opinion, usually loudly, with anyone within the room/town/county. He gets upset about a great many things and he feels that it is only fair that he share the misery/outrage/etc.

As a rule, I am viewed as the more level headed, calm and understanding one. I am usually able to smooth things out or offer a soothing voice to a solution. I am often seen as moderate. Usually, that view is correct.

I am pretty open minded about things. I try not to have a set opinion about very much. I learned the lesson of critical thinking very well, and I work hard to understand both sides of an issue. I am very capable of viewing both sides of an arguement and identifying and feeling compassion for both.

Some people call this sort of thinking "wishy-washy". I call it fair.

I value this ability very highly- it is one of the strongest reasons I am so good at my job. The talent for seeing someone else's perspective and challenges is valued very highly in my field, and I use it to my advantage as often as I can.

I'm pretty fair about most things. But there are things I am firm on- there's a line in the sand and I'll cause irreparable damage to anyone that crosses it.

The things I am passionate about include being a fantastic wife, and an outstanding mother.

I have to admit I fell down on the job for many years as a wife, and I still haven't completely forgiven myself. I know I have not always supported The Dude as well as I should or could have, and our relationship certainly suffered for it. I am making a concerted effort to be sure to demonstrate in word AND action how passionate I am about being his number one defender. He deserves to have a champion that backs him and supports him with love and respect, and I am trying my best to accomplish that.

I'm working on being the best mom ever, but it's a work in progress and there's just no way I will ever measure up to the awesome kids I've been blessed with. I keep trying, and love them all the same.

The Dude might be more outspoken, more obviously stricken with passions, and more vehement about the "wrongs" in the world- but I feel very sorry for the person that stands between me and my calling to be a wife, or mother. I might do a lot worse than with hold fudge...

Passion

So, in my real life, The Dude and I own a small retail store.

No, that's a lie.

We own an awesome game store that brings complete and total happiness to the man I adore. We offer a home, a community, a PLACE to be to our local gaming friends & family and we happen to do it while making sales and staying afloat.

We are totally passionate about this place. It is vital, essential and tantamount to our day to day operations. We work hard to make it a going concern and are always looking for ways to grow. We constantly work to offer more value and something better to the folks that make the store successful.

We didn't do it on our own- we inherited/bought the store from some other local guys that wanted a place where everyone was welcome, and we've poured our hearts into it ever since.

The energy, the enthusiasm, the utter passion- they are wonderful and I am glad they finally have a place to go...

The game store.... OUR game store.

She can't roll in her grave, she is not dead yet

I recently discovered something very strange. I discovered the fiction of Christopher Buckley (William F Buckley Jr's son) and I REALLY like it.

I think the guy is hysterical! His sense of humor really appeals to me- finding amusement in the obscure and obscene. I just love his stuff. I've been devouring whatever I can get my hands on- and while I don't totally understand it all, I find myself nodding my head and enjoying what he has to say in the political world as well.

I don't think I will ever tell my mother. There are just some things you do not share or say to your parents.

Telling your ULTRA Liberal, super crunchy, VERY granola, totally leftist mother that you enjoy and identify with one of the leading conservatives in the nation....maybe I'll keep that to myself.

It's interesting to discover how different I am from my parents- but also just as interesting to see our similarities. I like myself more and more every day- because I become more and more myself and less impressionable.

But don't tell my mom. She wouldn't understand....

A Rose By Any Other Name- Or Something

A post on the message board I frequent brought this line of thinking about.

I really hate my name. My name has always felt weird or awkward on me. I have never felt it fit me. It doesn't feel like the person I am inside my head. I don't know what name would fit me better, but I know it isn't the name I have.

Plus, It's boring, and there is absolutely NO nickname for it. It's also VERY VERY American and it's darn near impossible to explain to someone from another country because there is nothing equivalent to it.

Most of the time, I usually answer to "hey" much better than my own name.

Sign me,

"Hey"

The Story of the Dude (Today)

Today marks my 18th wedding anniversary with The Dude.

18 years ago today, I walked down a sidewalk in a park, and let go of my family's hand to join my hand with The Dude's.

I'm leaving the man in my life, the guy I adore - still sleeping. I'm headed for Lafayette for work, and I'm tired. It's a long drive. I'm writing this in part as an anniversary present. I'm also writing it for me.

Our relationship has been a long road, but we have been on it together.

I know I can count on The Dude to be my friend, my support, my champion, my love, my husband and my mate through any challenge. I know that with The Dude, I can do anything. I know that what we have is special, and important, and worth fighting for. I know I have found the place I belong.

I believe that there are people that are meant for each other. I often told The Dude in our early years that "God knew what he was doing" when he put us together. I know without a doubt in my heart that our hearts, our minds and our lives were designed to work best together.

I am a part of something very special and very rare. I have true, honest, fierce and passionate love with someone I trust and admire.

I have found where I belong. I have found a person to cling to and hold tight.

I am home no matter where I go.

I am....

(Babe, you know the rest. Happy Anniversary.)

The Story of the Dude (Returns & Rejoinders)

I spend another day with the Dude before I head out to my grandparents and then France.

I leave for another country feeling very good about myself- I have a boyfriend, I am going on an international adventure, and things are good.

For my exchange program, I've been paired with a 22 year old guy, but he has a younger sister who is 16 and I spend a bit more time with her.

My host family has a villa on the beach in St. Tropez, and we are spending 2 weeks there for their vacation. There are two Swiss boys about the same age as myself and my host sister, and they are WAY hot. They spend a good week hanging out with us on the beach, and there is a lot of good natured flirting. I enjoy my trip, but at one point I curse my timing and The Dude's presence in my life.

The moment where I wish my luck was different passes and I realize I have no chance with these very gorgeous men, and I am glad I have the Dude.

I come back in early August from my trip, and things with The Dude & I are intense. There is no doubt in my mind that he is the RIGHT guy for me, and I enjoy the deepening relationship. We've already been through a lot together, we've developed a strong friendship, and we have seen bad sides of each other. I am confident this is a good thing and will only grow.

The Dude and several room mates (including Tune) throw a party in the late summer- late August or early September to the best of my memory. The Dude has a few drinks. He's enjoying what he calls a "Piledriver"- a VERY strong screwdriver. I'm not drinking- just enjoying the music, having a nice time, and hanging out. The Dude is in his own apartment, he's a legal adult, and it's a party- so he continues to drink.

Music is playing, and he is laying with his head in my lap. He looks at me and says-

"Not to sound presumptuous or anything, but you WILL marry me, right?"

My world stops. I don't see anything but him for a moment. I consider how well I know him. I consider that my dad adores him. I consider that he has been nothing but good to me and that I am truly happy.

"Of course I will."

There's no further discussion- no date, no ring, no plans; just that we intend to get married. That's enough for me, and I am fairly settled on the idea of a long engagement at this point.

2 weeks later, we're alone. We're having a quiet moment, being tender and just relaxing with each other; and he says:

"I want you to marry me."

My comment - now hilariously funny- but at the time completely serious:

"I'll say what I said the first time; Of course"

The Dude responds true to form- a little oblivious:

"What first time?"

I go on to tell him in pretty graphic detail when, where, and how he initially proposed. The Dude is more than a little embarrassed to admit he remembers absolutely nothing of the situation until I remind him, as he had WAY too much to drink that night.

THIS is the beginning of our commitment to each other...

He doesn't remember his first outburst, and I am patient enough to forgive him.

The Story of the Dude (Another Whammy and Another Country)

Those weird feelings keep coming. They aren't all the time, but they are consistent. They are also annoying as heck. I try really hard to convince myself I have lost my mind and throw myself into something else for a while.

Life conspires against me in this plot, and I find myself around the Dude- a LOT. And these nagging, weird, fluttery, flip-floppy feelings just will not stop.

I try subtlety for a while, hoping maybe he will catch on.

That is a bad plan and does not work.

Someone that was hanging around the gaming group for a while convinces me to "go for it" and that I will never know whether things will work with The Dude if I do not try a more direct approach.

The plan goes something like this: look totally awesome around him, and see what unfolds. If nothing, then The Dude is a loser (in the sense that he does not get wonderful me) and I move on. If something happens, everyone wins. This is sometime in the springtime, I think near The Dude's birthday.

It sounded so easy...

I wore a dress. Not just any dress, but a dress that would have made Kelly Bundy from Married With Children PROUD. I get my hair prettied up. I wear makeup.

And then head to The Dude's place of work.

I drop in, say hi, talk for a bit, and while The Dude seems SURPRISED, he does not seem impressed at all.

I chalk this adventure up as a lesson in loss, and tell myself it is time to move on.

My heart does not like this idea one bit and I have a hard time letting go of my weird, annoying feelings for the Dude.

All the while, I have been planning a trip to France for the summer. I expect to be gone a month, and I am pretty excited. I know absolutely nothing about the family I will stay with, but I have a place to go and adventures to have. I tell myself that if nothing happens with The Dude before I leave for France, I will force myself to move on- I will NOT have a repeat of the 2 year crush I had on Guy X.

The end of the school year rolls around and I get serious about my preparations for my trip. I start planning "one last hurrah" events with my closest friends- including The Dude.

My plane for France leaves on the 4th of July. I am planning to head to my grandparents who live near the airport on the 2nd, and spend the 3rd at the conference for the exchange students. All of my plans with my friends are at the end of June.

It's June 30th, and the Dude & I are hanging out. I am dressed completely casually- cute jeans and my favorite top- a slightly tight black top with a low sweetheart neckline. We wander all over the local campus- pretty standard for us. We hit a few record stores, and there is a specific point when The Dude starts acting really buggy.

He won't look me in the face and keeps making slightly underhanded digs at my appearance. I am having too much fun to pay too much attention, but it is seriously weird behavior for The Dude.

We wind up at Arby's. I don't have a lot of money-most of it is going to my trip. The Dude offers to pay. I'm not super hungry, so I order a large curly fries with cheese. We head to a table and sit down, and The Dude is in full on absolutely crazy mode. I have NO idea what is going on but he pretty much ignores me to read the liner notes of a 247 Spies CD. The few times he speaks to me are weird, cryptic comments that could be come-ons or put downs.

I keep pretending nothing is wrong, but I get those darn feelings again, and I have a total mental freakout about halfway back to his apartment. Luckily I was able to cover it with a falsehood of needing to tie my shoes and things progress from there.

We're at his apartment, hanging out on the couch, talking and having a good time. The weirdness has passed and I feel comfortable and relaxed around The Dude again. I feel confident that he's set as my best friend and I can start looking for new guys to date when I get back from my trip.

Then it happens.

The Dude tells me that he likes me, and is looking for a "serious relationship". He goes on to say that he doesn't want anything casual, but something that will last a while, and possibly lead to more than just dating. And he wants it to be with me.

I am beyond petrified. I hoped for something like this with The Dude for a while, but the timing couldn't be worse, and I had JUST (I mean literally minutes prior to this revelation) relegated him to the "Friend Zone".

I decide the best thing to do is to be honest. I tell him that I'm afraid our dating will ruin our friendship. I tell him that he has lousy timing, too.

He seems strangely unphased by this and acts like he understands. We talk for a while more. We agree that we should at least try dating with the understanding that if it is "weird", we will go back to being friends, and no hurt feelings.

We stand up, and hug. It's pretty nice. There's a moment where I am stuck in my fear, my anticipation and my nerves, and I freeze with my face against his chest. He's wearing a Faith No More T-shirt, with the band members on it rather than their logo. He is warm and smells good. I hear:

"Are you going to kiss me, or are you going to stand there staring at Mike Patton all night?"

I kiss him for the first time, and I am home. I know I am where I am meant to be and I never want to leave.

I am scheduled to leave town in 2 days.