Friday, January 6, 2012

New Year...same me

I've been trying to get it together to write a New Year's post but been unable to. Until now, I suppose.

I started to write about NYE, but it seemed...boring somehow. To sum up: quiet dinner party at my dad's, wherein I vowed to wear heels, something I never do, into the new year. I am gonna be one of those women that can walk in heels, damn it! I put them on at 11:55 and took them off at 12:05. I did wear them a bit earlier in the night but my frame is not made for pointy heels. I couldn't handle them the entire evening into the new year. But I did what I promised. It may be a silly accomplishment but, well, I needed it.

I started to write a fictionalized version of what I would be doing in New Orleans, were I there this weekend, but that made me want to curl up in the fetal position and bawl so I abandoned it. I admit freely that I've been straight despondent about not being in New Orleans for the title game. I don't remember being this upset in 2007. Maybe because I had more going on then? I don't know. But ugh this has been tough. ESPN will be on in random institutions I visit (the gym, in line for a burrito today) and the college show will have live shots of Jackson Square and I'll fight back tears. I'm not joking. It's kinda pathetic, I know. So I couldn't write about New Orleans, not even in a fictional sense. *sad trombone*

I'm starting to get over that despondency by realizing that yes, I'm pretty spoiled. I spent a week in Baton Rouge/New Orleans in '10, which was everything I could have hoped for and more. Some people don't get to travel at all ever. So I need to shut up and realize that all is not lost. Hopefully by the time I'm a rich alum (buahahahaha), we'll make it back to the BCS game and I'll get to see us win the crystal ball, live, in person, with lots of debauchery. Also: it's completely my own fault. I booked a flight months ago, but not a refundable hotel which I should have considered. I was too superstitious to buy futures in tickets, which were available. Had I planned a little better, I might have been able to throw this trip on credit cards, at the very least. No one to blame but my own broke ass, which is always a bitter pill to swallow. Where is that fairy godmother when you need her?

The not going to New Orleans thing really hit home when I canceled my already booked flight and sold my Southwest ticket on Craigslist. This just made good economic sense, though. I told Linds I was thinking of going to visit her in Boston/go to a B's game/fuck up some smaht kids with my free flight. Then I looked up the cost of a flight to Boston in January and it's laughably cheap. So I sold the ticket which would cover a flight to Boston and some spending money should that be the way that things shake out. I need out of San Francisco like whoa right now.

In the meantime, I'm having a hard time not being petulant and cranky and saying mean things on the internet. (The amount of times I resist snarky comments to idiots on the Twitter deserves some kind of award.) (Yes, I realize I should probably just shut it all down sometimes but it's how I avoid the rest of my life, okay?)

I also have to deal with the disappointments of real life people. Chuck flaked on going to the Caps game, which is completely his call. I suppose. I'm not really buying the "save money" thing. That team, our team, travels out here once a year, if that, and you're not gonna go? Since I can't go to the LSU game, I figure the Caps game is a not horrible consolation prize. So now I'm left with a debate: go solo or don't go? I'm pondering the idea of taking the flight money and spending the night in a hotel in San Jose so that I don't have to drive the 50 miles home at 10 p.m. on a Saturday night but I don't know if I'm up to the task of having a solo adventure. I'd like to be all gungho and hotel lobbies and yay sporting events solo! But, I'm still gun shy from the "stop acting like yourself" admonishment after the first Bama game and feeling that not in New Orleans depression so...I sent an email to someone with one ticket listed on Craigslist. If that pans out, great. If not, I might go hang with my dad at work tomorrow. (SUPER EXCITING YOU GUYS! THIS IS ALL SUPER EXCITING! Ugh. Sorry. Even I'm annoyed with me right now.) (Update: I mentioned to my mother at dinner that I was pondering going to the hockey game alone. She OF COURSE said, "You can't go alone!" To San Jose. Sometimes I want to tell her all about my life she doesn't at all know about so she'll leave me alone about going to SAN JOSE. Remember when I was in college 60 miles from New Orleans and 2200 miles away from home? She sure doesn't! Really I just want to know what hotel the Caps are staying at so I can go stalk my imaginary hockey boyfriend, mkay?) (Um. I had been wondering what his middle name was, something you think I would know, just randomly because that's the kind of obsessed I am about this, and when I just linked that site, I discovered his first name is not his first name and I gasped out loud. I need hobbies.) (You know it's a super slow night and things suck when my entire sense of amusement is using 4 sets of parens in a row.)

I'm also smarting, in a completely teenage girl way, as I absolutely recognize it to be, that I'm doing all the inviting and planning with friends. I send out the invites for NYE or for game watching or for whatever else is going on and don't get invites back. Rational, logical me realizes that people are busy and not to take it personally. Insecure, perpetually fifteen year old me wants to stomp her feet and wishes she were more popular. (I also recognize in rereading this that "all" and "never" are a bit of hyperbole. Chuck and I watched the Caps game last week and the Winter Classic together and I had a last game of the season party at Michael's, though I sort of arranged it and used his venue.)

This, with the aforementioned gun-shyness & despondency, is why I'm likely watching the BCS championship game from comfort of my own couch with copious Dr Pepper and chicken wing strips as my guilty pleasure food. We're practicing moderation (of booze. And by moderation I mean cutting out completely...for now), exercise, and avoiding boys for the month of January. And applying to jobs. So. Hopefully there will be a shift in mood if (when?) LSU beats the crap out of the University of Alabama from the Superdome and we get bragging rights for a year.


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