A Christmas Miracle

I have never been the girl that dreamed about her wedding day. The proposal on the other hand... I have always tried to imagine how this would happen (even when there was no guy in the picture). I would watch TLC's the Wedding Story and listen intently to Oprah specials about insane wedding proposals. I never fully landed on how my proposal would happen, but I would think about different scenarios:

At a baseball game? NEVER!

In a hotel room, with roses scattered around? Unlikely.

At dinner, the ring floating in champagne? I nixed this because the daydream ended with me choking on said ring.

Maybe in Central Park. Or during a late night walk around the monuments. Or perhaps at the finish line of a race we ran together.

But no matter how it happened, I always thought I would cry. I imagined a tearful, YES! And then more tears.

So what really happened? The abridged version:

Christmas morning. 8:45 a.m., in front of a fireplace full of presents and a silent Miami home. A ring box placed strategically in a cup next to Santa's cookies. Down on one knee, "Will you marry me?" First I said, "What are you doing?!" Then I said, "Are you serious??" And finally I said, "Yes, Yes, Yes!"

And the tears? They weren't there, well not at first. And I realized...

It doesn't matter how much you dream about your engagement day. It will never turn out the way you expected. And that's the best part...

Because no daydream, no matter how wonderful, compares to the magical moment of reality, of actually hearing the words, of finally saying YES out loud.

I'm Emotionally Unavailable Right Now, Please Leave a Message

I have been highly emotional lately. Yesterday, I teared up while reading a People Magazine article about a dog named Nubs; cried at the end of So You Think You Can Dance; and sobbed while watching the movie Gran Torino.

I'm trying to figure out what to blame this wave of instability on... and I have no idea. I even took my temperature today to see if I had been inflicted with Swine Flu (I'm not, in case you were wondering; apparently, excessive emotion is not a symptom).

Maybe I just need a break from life. Perhaps my hormones are literally crying out for respite from my everyday routine.

Luckily for them (and my tear ducts) I'm packing my bags and heading out to the Dominican Republic on Sunday.

Though I'm sure I'll tear up a bit as I say adios to my boyfriend for two weeks. But then, my body should be prepared for a drought!

To Friend or Not To Friend

Until recently, I have never been the stalker type. When I met a guy at a bar, I never even thought about looking him up on Google (although, in hindsight, this might have saved me from several terrible dates). Once in awhile I would type in the name of an ex-boyfriend to see if any marriage notices would pop up, but that was the extent of my stalking effort.

But now that I'm full-fledged, everyday user of Facebook, I'm obsessed with finding out what former foes, friends, exes and classmates are doing. Are they a train wreck? Are they divorced? Have six kids? Live in my hometown? Gained weight? Lost weight? Stayed the same???

I've also recently found out that there is only so many times you can stalk the same people (apparently, people's lives don't change that dramatically day-to-day). So I've been thinking of friending people I never even spoke to in high school. I'm thinking of pressing the "add as friend" button as I scroll over the names of people I hated in middle school.

But then I stop. And I stare at their face. And I get heart palpitations at the thought of letting them into my Facebook life. And while I want to know what they're doing to and how they look now, I don't really want to click the button because it seems be implying that we ARE friends or that I want to BE their friend.

When I don't. I just want to take a peek into their lives. I wish they had an "I want to judge" button. Then I wouldn't feel so conflicted.

So I took the advice of AF, my actual friend in real life and on Facebook, and hit "add as friend" to a former college best friend; a girl who I had a major falling out with just as we headed off into the real world.

And it came back as saying, "Error. Please try again."

I did not. I promptly aborted this friending of non-friends mission.

I take it as a sign that I will stick to just friending the people I know (or at least don't have any bad memories of from years before), rather than actively friending people I want to stalk (if they choose to friend me, I will happily click the "accept" button).

And if this means I can only peer into the lives of 200-something people, I think I can handle it.

The Stress-tro

I used to stress out about track meets, about passing tests, about what to wear on the first day of school. Now, I have the usual stresses, but I've added one more - the METRO. In the grand scheme of things, public transportation is not something to stress about (and based on my last post, I need to reduce my stress level to maintain my youth).

BUT.

When it's 8am and all you want to do is stroll down the one non-working escalator and people are blocking you from getting to your train and then you have to push past these people who give you dirty looks even though we are ALL supposed to be sharing the one escalator... It's pretty freaking stressful.

And when I finally get to my next train and I have to risk my life by standing almost in front of the incoming train just to make sure I get on and get a seat and then people run in front of me as soon as the doors open and then I watch as my seat is taken... it's pretty freaking stressful.

And then, as I'm standing in my sardine filled metro car with my gym bag and my work bag and my newspaper, in my uncomfortable heels, and I'm jostled foward and my newspaper goes flying and I fall into a sweaty worker bee and they give me a dirty look even though I apologize... it's pretty freaking stressful.

Sigh.

Perhaps I AM going to need botox...

Falling Forward

I am highly disturbed. I just watched an HBO special about getting older. Whoa. Oh. My. God. Girls who are 25 are getting botox. Women who are 60 LOOK 25. Stretched faces and unnaturally wide eyes and lineless faces. I knew all of this (I think), but to see it on my 42" plasma (thank god not high definition)... it made me cringe (for about an hour and a half - that is a lot of cringing).

Of course, once it ended, I ran straight to my bathroom mirror and inspected my face for lines. And immediately doused myself in lotion and anti-aging skin cream. And practiced looking incredulous without moving my forehead.

A Life Rut

I'm in a funk. A rut. Whatever you want to call it. I'm not depressed, I'm not wallowing, I'm just... bored. The routine of everyday life is, well, routine. Wake up. Go to work. Go to the gym. Go home. Make (order in) dinner. Watch TV. Go to bed.

BLAH.

Even writing that made me sleepy.

So I've got to figure out how to spice things up. Because if I don't, I'm going to do something stupid. An idle mind is the devil's playpen, right? Right.

For example, I once contacted a TLC show that reconnects old flames. I asked them to put me in touch with an exboyfriend because I was bored.

For example, I start scouring web sites to see if I can get deals on things like a Kitchenaid Mixer or a set of high end pots. Not that I like to cook, that I even know what I would use the Mixer for, but just because I might one day use those items. Just because I'm bored.

You get the hint.

So any suggestions on how to add a little oomph! to my "lull you to sleep" every day life are welcome.

It's Amazing...

...How many deep conversations happen after drinking 3 (fine, 5) glasses of wine. It's likely that I solved the economic crisis and not remembered the next morning.

...How easily I justify my ever-expanding hips on my body being "child-bearing ready" (please note, body may be ready, the rest of me is not)

...How many times I mistake a random person for a former ex-flame (I totally freaked a guy out at an AT&T story today by staring at him for a good five minutes only to determine that he definitely wasn't who I thought he was)