beth’s buzz

So I have this guy friend (who I’ll call Lon, just in case he’s reading this, which he probably isn’t. I think only Ray reads this. Hi Ray!) who I kinda wanted to date last year. We made out a few times, and then he so kindly told me that he didn’t want to date me exclusively. I won’t lie. It hurt. Then he dated my best friend, who later dumped him because he was too chicken to go public with her, and she figured after 3 months, she had had enough and could do better. So then Lon moved to Utah for a job, but he came back a couple of times and I willingly made out with him (hey, by then I knew that nothing was serious and I was okay with that). Suffice to say, it’s been a tumultuous relationship. Anyway, a few months ago, I was chatting with him online and we were talking about the lack of datable members of the opposite sex in our areas, and I asked him (only half joking) if he wanted to get married if we were both still single when we hit thirty (only four short years from now). He said…. No.

What? I thought? Seriously? What the crap?! I’m good enough to make out with (… and other things, which will not be mentioned her) but not get married? So me, being me, brazenly asks him why not. “Well, you see,” said he, “in simple terms, you’re like a sports car.” Hey, nothing wrong with that. Sports cars are damn sexy, thank you very much. But then he continued: “I’m looking for a mini-van, and you’re just not it.”

I feel as if I need to interject something her. Lon, bless his little heart, can sometimes have a stick so far up his butt that you can turn his head with it. There are times that he is really, really, really, REALLY self-righteous, and can make those of us who are not as righteous (namely me) feel like I’ve got a one-way ticket to hell. I’m not saying that’s bad, just that I wouldn’t be able to deal with that.

I also feel like I should interject that when I think of mini-vans, I think of the soccer moms who have like 20 kids (again, not that it’s a bad thing, just not for me) and who looks basically like life took a big stick to her. In that case, I’m really good to be a sports car and not a mini-van.

Okay, so back to the story: That was kinda the push I needed to make me realize that Lon and I would never have a future. Sure, it was fun making out with him, but relationships need more than that. And I realized, too, that if I did marry Lon, I wouldn’t be able to be me. All I would be was his baby-making machine (again, not bad, but not for me. I mean, I don’t mind the baby-making part, it’s the being constantly with child that I object to). Plus, Lon would expect me to cook and houseclean and be the perfect wife and mom, and I KNOW there’s no way that will ever happen.

I really didn’t worry to much. I told a few friends that really knew Lon and me, and they got a good laugh out of it, but it wasn’t something that I was going to let drag me down. And it was a moot point. A few weeks later, I met this great guy named Jared (real name). Pretty much he’s fantastic, and no man has EVER treated me better. Suffice to say, he’s a keeper. Anyway, a few weeks after Jared and I officially started dating (the official date was October 12, 2008, just in case anyone wonders), I was talking again with Lon online. He of course was bemoaning the fact that there weren’t any women to date, and then he stunned me with this next sentence: “Hey, so the next time we’re both single, do you want to try dating?” W. T. F. ??!?! After he tells me that I’m exactly the opposite he’s looking for? And after I had informed him I was dating someone else? What kind of guy does that?! It just made me fume and laugh at the same time. Well, I have news for you, Lon. I’m planning on holding on to Jared for a very long time, so maybe the next time I’ll be single is when I’m 90 (or 50, because apparently that’s when I’m going to die). Seriously, I can’t figure men out. If anyone can, PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!

Oh, and just so you know, I do hope that Lon finds a girl that is perfect for him and makes him happy. I wish that for everybody. Well, except for the girls- I hope they can find boys that make them happy. Unless they’re lesbodions. My point is, EVERYONE should find someone they are happy with. Being alone sucks. And I wouldn’t wish that on anybody.

So a funny thing happened when I turn 26: All of the sudden, I was old. I know, I know, 26 is hardly in the realm of old, but suddenly I feel it. I mean, here I am, just 4 short years away from 30, and what have a done with my life? I’m not married (though I am currently dating someone), I have no children, I’m hugely in debt for my car and my house, and I’m in Twin Falls, Idaho. Not that I’m really complaining, or anything. I’m happy with my life. I like being able to go home at the end of the day and just sitting on my couch, watching crap TV. But sometimes I wonder if I could do more with my life. But then that thought just exhausts me, and I have to sit down.

Anyway, the whole reason for this post is that I’m falling apart (another byproduct of my now advanced age). This week I went to the doctor with a painful foot. I could even see where bone was jutting out a little bit. So me, being me, thinks that maybe I broke it at the Halloween Dance two weeks ago (it’s been hurting since then but I’ve been too lazy to go the the Doc-in-a-Box). Tuesday I had off (thank you, veterans!), so I went. They took X-rays and all it turns out to be is the beginnings of the bunion. Fantastic. First of all, that’s a really ugly word, and second, as my mom so cheerfully pointed out, bunions are worse than breaks, because I’ll be feeling this for the next few years. And of course, the saddest thing about a bunion is that now I have to be even more conscious of what shoes I wear. I really like my strappy heels, and I’m not too keen on having to give them up.

And then, to make things even better, my arm started hurting again today. I’ve had troubles with carpal tunnel in the past, and I think this is an extension of it. The pain starts in my upper left arm, and if feels like there’s not only a huge not there, but also that someone is stabbing me relentlessly. Then the pain shoots down my arm to my hands, and my fingers go a bit numb. I would go back to the doctor, but I’ve already been once this week. Plus, I’m not sure I can afford it until like next year.

I’m sorry; I don’t mean to complain (and I wouldn’t, if they just made some over the counter morphine pills. Is that too much to ask? Apparently so.) I just thought that at my tender young age, I’m not supposed to have complaints like this. This is like what an 80 year old has! It makes me really not look forward to my senior years. But then. at the rate I’m going, I’ll probably be dead by 50. I guess it makes sense that I’m having my mid-life crisis now.

So I come back from lunch the other day, and my coworker Amy has me listen to this voice mail. Sometimes when it gets busy, and people call, we have to ignore them and then they get transfered to our voice mail. Apparently this guy didn’t appreciate it that much, for this is what he said: “Yeah, if you guys are public service, why don’t you answer the damn phone?!” It made me giggle. I mean, is he really getting worked up about us not answering? We’re busy. It says so on the greeting message. Oh well, I guess you can’t please everybody.

But this is not the only phone story I have this week. Oh no. So on Saturday, I was out on a date (I know, shocker!) and we were going down the road and noticed that traffic was stopped up. And then we see an ambulance go buy. Of course, by now we’re pretty curious. So when we finally go pass, we see what’s holding traffic up: Apparently a truck had hit a kid on a bike or a scooter. Tragic, yes, but I’m pretty sure the kid was okay. Even though he was on the ground in a crumpled mess, the bike twisted around him, he had his cell phone out, texting away. I can just imagine what those texts read: “Hey dude! just got in car wreck. it was awesome!!!! bring me candy @ the hospital!” or maybe even “ur not gonna beleve what just happened – a tool hit me with his car!” It just makes me smile a bit.

I think as a culture we have gotten attached to texting and instant gratification. That is not to say it’s a bad thing. I, for one, am constantly texting. It’s the one way I can keep in contact with my friend throughout the whole day. Besides, I have a mild case of telephobia. But I gotta tell you, if I was ever in a car accident (heaven forbid; knock on laminate), I can pretty much assure you that the first thing I grab for would NOT be my phone, unless I was calling 911. And I’m pretty sure I would never leave a nasty message for those hard working public servants who couldn’t answer my call right away. But who know? Times have changed, and we have too.

Oh, and by the way: Answer the damn phone.

Well, hello kids! So I’ve been thinking about getting a blog for quite sometime (especially since my coworker, Jennifer, keeps nagging me to help update our work one (tfpl.wordpress.com), so here it is. I’ve been really lax on keeping you up-to-date on what’s happening here in Twin, so I thought this would be a fun and easy way to solve that problem. Of course, it would be great if I can get the whole family to blog, but I’m unsure as to have successful I’ll be on that.

So, for those of you who are unaware, Bug Anne is the nickname my brothers gave me as a kid, and I absolutely HATED it. Now, it’s kinda cute (not for everyday use, but when the nieces call me that). Of course, I had to be a little innovative because my usual avatar name (librarybat) was taken. Oh well.