Drinking, dancing, and fantastic hair

So, I'm in Michigan. Still. Currently I'm sitting at my parents' kitchen table watching Will & Grace re-runs on Lifetime. I could delve deeper into that last statement, but to save myself any sort of further humiliation or self-loathing, I'm going to move on.

Last week my mother and I took a trip to northern Michigan for a few days of relaxation, bonding, wine tasting, golfing, and kayaking. I am relieved to report that after 3 days of the aforementioned activities, both of us returned home alive. There were many moments I thought this would not be the case.

When we returned Friday night, I experienced the highlight of my trip. If you keep up with this blog, or know me at all, you know how much I love getting my hair done. Since a childhood friend was getting married on Saturday, and I would be seeing lots of people from my past, I needed to get my hair colored. Desperately. My hairdresser being TOTALLY AWESOME, fit me in at 11:00 Friday night. How amazing is that!?! She colored me, trimmed me up, and sent me home with some products and a smile - well after midnight.

The wedding was beautiful - my friend (who I have known for more than 20 years now) looked like an angel. I actually went to my first New Kids concert with her. Ahhh, the memories. So many familiar faces were there - people I expected to see, and some I did not. Days later, the reception is something of a blur. I know there was a lot of meat (which, when you're a vegetarian is unfortunate), a lot of alcohol, 3 hours of straight dancing, an abundance of sugar, and bouts of uncontrollable laughing.

I sat with my date (don't get excited...she is my best friend who lives in Chicago) and our grade school friend (who, you will be interested to know, was my first "serious" boyfriend in 8th grade) and his wife. We also sat with a wonderful young man who unfortunately hasn't come to terms with his sexual orientation yet. He was wonderful and so much fun...and added a lot of life to our evening! I believe at one point I laughed so hard that my drink came out of my mouth and nose simultaneously. I could be wrong, but think that when liquids are extracted out of a person's facial cavities, a good time is guaranteed.

I forgot how much fun I had with these people. We danced and laughed and reminisced all night. It was like a dream. I drank too much and didn't stop dancing. I believe body parts were exposed at some point due to the street funk-like dance moves I was doing. A family friend even told my mom that if she were gay, she would definitely be attracted to her. And, that pretty much sums up the evening's activities. All sorts of inappropriate things were happening - and they only got worse as the night progressed. Fortunately for my friend, she will be able to watch them over and over again on her wedding video. There could probably be a lot of blackmailing done for that tape....

It was a blast. I woke up the next morning (after not sleeping at all) feeling horrible. It was totally worth it.

But, the most important part of the evening came very early. Ready for this one? I was voted best hair! With that simple compliment, the fact that I was lonely and single at the wedding (the Priest actually prayed for people like me during the ceremony) no longer mattered. I took my sexy hair and danced my single ass all over the floor that night. $100 is a small price to pay for some superficial self confidence...

On the homefront

So, here I sit - hot, single and swine-less in Michigan.

It's always the same thing - I get really excited to come home, visit, and spend time with my family. Then, after a day (or less), I'm ready to leave. I can literally feel the crazy setting in. I start looking for somewhere to run. And I want to get there fast.

There are several reasons for this. First, I get bored so easily. I like to do things. Run. Go on bike rides. Enjoy people watching. There are not many opportunities for these things in the suburbs. It's the same people, driving the same cars, going to the same Panera every day. Oh - and a lot of chain restaurants. I have been so spoiled living in cities...

Second, my family is going through a transition right now. Actually, I'd say it's much more than a "transition", but since I'm simply posting a blog and not lying on a therapist's couch, I'll leave it there. This makes being home extremely uncomfortable. It's very strange, especially because this has always been a safe and comfortable place for me. And now it's anything but.

But, again, I love my family and friends. So, I'm filling my days spending as much time as possible with all of them. And writing my book. I have been writing quite a bit, and am pretty happy with the way it's turning out. It's strange, though. Writing about my experiences brings up emotions I haven't had to deal with. Right now, as you all know, I'm dealing with the loss of my latest relationship, but writing about the beginning. I've got so many conflicting emotions - reading through old emails, imagining our first kiss, remembering that new love feeling, and then hearing the words "demolition derby". But, I have to admit, I feel lucky that I'm not so jaded I can't write about all the good times.

Tomorrow I'll be hanging with my 6-year old cousin at her pool. Recently my dad was quizzing her on some math problems, and asked her what 15 plus 15 is. She replied 35. He said, "Actually, it's 30." Her reply? "Huh...they must have changed it then."

I would be lying if I said I'm not looking forward to spending an afternoon acting like a 6-year old. But, then again, it's not too far off from the way I spend most of my time...

"No sheep, cattle, or swine"

For those of you who have never been to Canada, a word of caution. You may not bring any of the above items into - or out of - the country. You can thank me later when this post saves you the trouble of hooking up a cattle and transporting it to the border only to find you're not allowed to take it across. You are very welcome.

If you're wondering, I drove from the east coast to Michigan today. My mom's best friend, "K" is staying out with her family in Maine, so I drove up there last night, and she hitched a ride with me today. We left this morning, and about 13 hour later pulled into my parents' driveway.

I immediately ran in the house to be greeted by my little white angel - my puppy, Ella. She has been staying with my parents for the past year, because my job had me traveling so much I just could not keep her myself. And I was NOT about to lose her in the divorce. So I have come and gone, and each time she watches me with sad eyes, wondering when she's going to get to come with me. Well, my friends, Ella is about to be introduced to Boston. Or, should I say, Boston is about to be introduced to Ella? Her superior, large and in-charge attitude makes me lean towards the latter.....

But, like usual, I digress. Back to the main story here...when "K" called this past weekend to ask if she could ride with me, my immediate response was YES! I'm so used to driving all alone - it would be so nice to have the company. And, she'll even be riding back with me to help move my stuff from Philly to Boston. How awesome is that!?! But, before I drove up yesterday, I did warn her that my license plates are expired, so we had to be very careful (don't worry - I called State Farm and they're working on getting me registered in Massachusetts). She didn't seem too worried. When I arrived last night, I said, there's something else you need to know before we drive home. I received a speeding ticket in the state of New York a few months ago, and haven't paid it. There could possibly be a warrant out for my arrest. Her response was simply, I wish you could have told me this BEFORE I agreed to ride with you. She quickly forgave me and put an extra credit card, checkbook and bond card in her purse. Just in case.

We had such a great time. The weather was beautiful. The company was even better. We talked non-stop the entire ride. Well, we did stop briefly to sing along with "We've only just begun" by The Carpenters. Good times. I mean, who doesn't love the sweet, harmonic sounds of The Carpenters on a Tuesday afternoon?

You can all be relieved (probably obvious since you're reading this post) to know we made it without any hitches. No tickets. No arrests. Although we did have to ditch the swine we were carrying in the trunk. That was a close call.

The next chapter

So, I can FINALLY write about something that's been going on in my life. Now, I know that I have said I don't edit what I say here, but since this was about my career, I had to be careful who read what.

My first week here I met some awesome women at a networking event, and we became friends. They work at another agency in the city - one of our competitors. A few weeks ago, one of them (who is a director at the agency) sent me an email and asked me if I would be interested in working with them. I love these 2 women, and thought there was no harm in learning more. Well, one interview turned into 2 and a presentation in front of the agency, and then a job offer. I was floored. And flattered. The offer they made me is a considerable amount of money more than I was currently making, and I fell in love with some of the people on the team. So, I accepted.

Now, I know I have only been at my current job for a short time. But, after talking this over with several of the people I consider my "mentors", I decided this was the best decision for me. This is where it gets interesting.

The current agency does not handle people leaving well. Since I started, 2 people (in addition to me) have left. Both were messy, and neither were fun to watch. Needless to say, I didn't sleep for days before I had to put in my notice. I wanted to give them plenty of time, to be as respectful as possible. I chose yesterday afternoon.

A very long and messy story short: they asked me to leave immediately. I cleaned off my desk, and then sat down with the HR guy in his office before leaving. I have to stop here for a moment. I LOVE this guy. Him and I have developed a special bond, and I knew leaving him would be excruciating. But since I didn't work with him on a daily basis, it wasn't like that could keep me there. Point to note: he is the one who introduced me to Brit boy. I start to cry. This was brutal. We are both so upset. He tells me some awesome, wonderful, and humbling things. I tell him for the millionth time how sorry I am, but that I feel this is best for me right now. And that this was such a surprise to me. He walked me out, gave me a hug and a kiss, and I walked away.

But, here's the signature - and best - part of the story. While I was talking with him in his office, the management was telling the rest of the agency that it would be my last day. I'll give you a moment to digest that. I will repeat. WHILE I WAS STILL THERE. They (for some strange reason) decided not to wait until I had left the building. Apparently, they wanted to make it as uncomfortable and awkward as possible. Mission accomplished. I walked out of the office to stares and whispered "congratulations" and "we'll miss you". No good-byes. No account transitions. Nothing.

So now I have some time on my hands because I don't start my new job until August 6th. I think I'm gonna head down south to visit my best buds, and party Knoxville style, which is always my favorite way to party. Then I'm going to spend some time in Michigan with my family and friends. I should take this as an opportunity to re-connect with those people far away that matter most.

I spent today taking it easy. Oh - and I took my first hot shower in over a week! That was AMAZING!!! It sure is the little things in life that make all the difference....

It's crazy. I feel like I'm starting over again, even though I just did. I have a new apartment (which will be equipped with air conditioning, hot water, gas and cable - at all times). I have a new job. I am single. I have started writing my book. I'm settling. And - the incredible part about it - I'm not freaking out. It feels good. Actually, amazing. It feels fucking amazing. I'm starting a new chapter now - and it's all about me. I think this one's gonna be the best one yet!

My JP Life

This morning was yet another installment of "KP's JP Life." Let me draw a picture for you, please.

I set the alarm for 5:00 am, as I would like to get up and do the elliptical before work. This accomplishes two things. First, obviously, I start off my day with a good work out. Second, though, is probably not a popular response people fill in when they sign up for a membership at the local gym next to why are you interested in a membership with our facility? No, for me, the second reason I want to wake up at 5:00 and work out is so that I become so sweaty I can't imagine doing anything but taking a cold shower to cool down. That, of course, is because I have no hot water. Correction: we have no warm water. The only thing we have is ice cold water.

As is usually the case, I cannot get my body going at 5:00 due to the lack of sleep. So, I hit the snooze over and over, until it's time for me to wake up and jump right in the shower. Now, this takes some preparation. If only someone were watching this. It's hilarious.

First I apply my face wash. Then I brush my teeth, and rinse off my face. Next, it's time to shave my legs. Clearly, this is unfathomable in frigid water temperatures. So, this requires me to lather them up and shave in the sink. Once this is done, I turn on the shower, all the way to hot, just in case there's a small amount left in the faucet. Hey - I'm an optimist, what can I say? But, to clarify, there never is. I turn the shower head away from me, towards the wall and step in. The bottom of the tub is already cold, and it makes me shudder. I take a deep breath, turn the shower head, and arch my back all the way so that just my hair is getting wet. On a normal basis, I'm pretty fussy about making sure my hair is fully soaked before applying shampoo. But, under these circumstances, I don't have that luxury. I turn the shower off, leaving the water running out of the faucet. I shampoo my nearly-numb scalp, and wet my loofah. Now, I have to stop and laugh at myself here. Most people wet their cleansing utensil of choice in order to get it warm before applying the soap. With cold water, however, this isn't possible. And yet I proceed to complete this step. Every morning. I wash up. I turn the shower back on, and arch my back. I quickly rinse the shampoo out of my hair, probably leaving remnants from the past 5 days. But I don't care. I can barely breathe by this point. I'm shaking and thinking of how nice the warm, humid air is going to feel on my frozen body. I turn the shower back off, and apply the conditioner. At this point, I need to give myself a little pep talk to make it through the rest of the exercise.

It's okay, Kristin. People all over the world don't even have the luxury of a shower, let alone a warm one. Be grateful for what you have. It's only 5 minutes your day. 5 very cold minutes....

I rinse the conditioner so quickly from my hair that I can't imagine I'm not walking around a Pantene Pro-V test lab. I remove the shower head and rinse the rest of the soap. Again, not enough, I'm sure. I go by the "if you can't see it" rule...

I turn the water off with shaky hands, and wrap myself in a very warm towel. I run to my room, and immediately turn off the air conditioning as I sit and tremble for about 2 minutes. But don't worry. That all wears off really fast once I start to blow dry my over-conditioned, under-rinsed hair.

Oh well. This just adds to the things I can tell my kids I had to endure "before they had it all..." It's right up there with walking to school in the snow - up hill both ways!

Funny thing happened when I got home today. The cable was turned off. So, it's like 100 degrees in the city, we have no gas, hot water, or cable. Roomie and I are sitting at the June Bug Cafe in JP, working on our computers, watching wacky asian game shows and drinking bubble tea. Just another night in my JP Life. And I'm loving every minute!

The next "cover girl"

Happy Sunday! I have to say, this holiday weekend sure went by quickly! I wish I could extend it by a few days and just hang out and explore...there's so much to do around here!

Okay, so first things first. Many of you received text messages throughout the day, saying something to the effect of: "I did it! I told him it was over!" And, my dear readers, that's exactly what I did. Most of you are probably confused, thinking I did that a few weeks ago. And, I meant to. But I find I leave things vague and unclear, never really sure myself what I mean by the words that actually come out. So, I end up at the same place, day after day. Knowing I deserve better, and WANT better, I had to make some changes. And stick with them. No matter what. No guilt. No looking back. Just ahead. So many possibilities.

I was planning on giving the relationship the respect it deserves, and tell him in person. He was going to come here for dinner today. Maybe even spend some time walking and talking around JP Pond. But, I knew what today meant for us. It meant goodbye. For good. Yesterday I even deleted his phone number. I knew if I wanted this to stick, I needed to take some desperate measures. Completely let go. Not allow for those lonely and sad moments. When I say I was ready, I mean it.

He calls at 9:00 this morning and wakes me up. "You're going to hate me," he says. "But I totally forgot I had tickets to the demolition derby today, so I won't be able to make it for dinner. We'll do something later this week." Um, the DEMOLITION DERBY!?! ARE YOU SERIOUS!?! Now, I know there are plenty of people out there that like this sort of thing, but come on! I couldn't believe what I was hearing. To give you an idea of who we're dealing with here...this is a guy who wouldn't even allow country music to play in the same house he's in because he think it's so redneck. THE DEMOLITION DERBY!!!!! I do have to say, though, that I never thought I would have lost out to the derby - especially demolition. I think I've officially hit a new low...

Now, because I have gotten used to disappointment, I made the decision last night that if he came up with some excuse as to why he couldn't make dinner today (although I NEVER expected the excuse I DID get!), our goodbye would happen no matter what. It's time for me to take my life back completely - in every aspect. I tell him not to bother. That I've waited long enough. Played second long enough. He says something to the effect of "I knew this would turn into a competition." No, it's not a competition when I am never even a contender.

We hung up the phone, pretty angry. I cried for 2 minutes (give or take a few seconds). I decided that no matter how much I wish he would, he probably will never realize what he just let walk away. He will never realize how good he had it. But, there's nothing I can do to change that. I have no regrets. That's all I need to know.

I decided to go on a bike ride. I followed the Minutemen trail that goes from Bedford to Cambridge. It's almost the same trail Paul Revere rode along warning citizens that the British were coming (speaking of which, I wish someone would've warned ME that the Brits were coming...hehe). I spent 2 hours riding the trail, about 20 miles. I felt amazing. And, on my ride there, I realized that someone out there is waiting to meet me. And is going to forever be grateful for the day he does. Just as I will be. In that moment, I realized saying goodbye to something so wrong isn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. It was actually pretty empowering.

I called my new roommate. I told her what happened, and how excited I am about the next chapter. And, I told her to do whatever she needs to do to get me a personal meeting with Donnie Wahlberg. Who knows - maybe I'll be the next girl to be on stage for a live performance of "Cover Girl". Only this time he won't have a rat tail or torn jeans...and I'll be doing much more than simply holding a rose...

Save the Ta-Tas

Happy Independence Day...a day late! What an AWESOME day in this AWESOME city!

Let me back up a couple days. It's Wednesday. I wake up, tired after a very busy week with little sleep. I start the water for my daily shower. I love my shower. I look forward to this time every day. It's my time. My chance to think. And plan my day. And reflect on the day before. And sing. It sets the tone of my whole day. And I always love it. Except today. Unlike every day prior, the water stays cold. I have no choice. I have to do it. Curly hair is NOT meant to be worn a second day. Trust me. I shake. And can hardly catch my breath. But my hair gets clean. I go to work, and don't stop all day. I go to Target for props for the next day's company outing. I don't get home until 8:30. I turn on the stove to make my pasta. It doesn't work. Are you following? Cold water + no gas stove = OUR GAS WAS TURNED OFF!!!!! I was NOT happy. How could this happen you ask? The answer is simple. The genius I'm renting the room from ignores the utility bills rather than telling us to pay them. Then they get shut off because they don't get paid. And I get pissed. I drive to Providence to eat dinner at 10:00 and take a hot shower.

The next day is the company outing. 95 degrees, outside, work people. Enough said.

Knowing I am going to have to take cold showers for several days, I wake up yesterday and work out for about an hour and a half just to work up a sweat. I did. But it didn't help. It was just as cold, just as uncomfortable. But, I'm not going to let that ruin my day. When I meet my friend "T" at noon, it's drizzling. Yuck. She has on a long sleeve white shirt over a pink tank top. She says: "I hope I don't offend you, but I have a tank top on underneath that I bought when I did a walk for breast cancer. Whenever I wear it, it always seems to get some attention." I tell her nothing offends me, and we continue on our way to do all the cheesy Boston tourist things. We walk the freedom trail. We have lunch by Feneuil Hall, and dinner by Fenway Park. We watched the best fireworks show ever, and listen to live music from Rascal Flatts. We saw some interesting people, and the smartest little almost-3-year-old boy ever. We bought fresh fruits and vegetables from a local farmers market. We had a blast. For 12 straight hours, we enjoyed everything our new city had to offer.

While we stood and watched the fireworks, I realized just how different my life is this year than it was at the same time last year. I know the theme of the 4th is freedom, and that word means different things to different people. To me it means freedom to be me. To be able to sing in the shower. To play New Kids on the Block loud and proud. To laugh. To love. To celebrate the good things in life - everyday. After all, there are always good things. But most of all, freedom means being able to walk through the streets of Boston on the 4th of July, wearing a shirt that reads: "Save the Ta-tas".