Luck

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I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how lucky I am. Like, not “find a four-leaf clover on my way to cash my million-dollar lottery prize” luck, but the luck that gets me through each day with such incredible people; the luck that got me the family that I have.

Growing up a fat, nerdy, pretty gay kid in a small town in West Virginia is not for the faint-hearted. And I definitely had some amazing friends, but I was so lucky to have the parents that I did. They loved me (and even liked me most of the time!) no matter what — mouthy teenage years, gay, bad girlfriends, car wrecks, and everything in between. I was…a handful, to say the least. Different parents would have turned their backs on me, tried to pray the gay away, tried to talk me out of dating someone. Well, maybe that last one would have been a good idea…

Anyway, I guess what I’m saying is that I feel so lucky to have who I do. My thoughts always turn kind of sad this time of year, so I guess that’s what this is all about.

I am sad and happy today. Sad that my dad died. Grateful that my mom is so awesome. Sad that it’s been 12 years. Happy for the 26 that we had before that. Angry that he’s gone when it seems so unfair. Lucky that my mom has done such a good job of being two parents since then.

 

 And looking great while doing it.

  My graduation from college.

I remember the first (only?) time my dad had a Primanti’s sandwich. We were going with a work friend of his, Dave, to Italian Oven, but it had closed, so his friend suggested Primanti’s. Having gone to college downtown, I was familiar, and so was Dave. Dad said, “That’s all your going to order — just a sandwich?” Thinking that wouldn’t be enough, he also ordered a bowl of chili. Too many years have passed to remember the exact conversation that followed our food being brought out, but needless to say, he soon understood why “just a sandwich” would probably have been okay.

At Christmas every year, my family somehow ends up talking about some strange topic, often sexual. And that’s how the task of explaining what a tossed salad was to my mom. By the end of it, we were both in tears from laughter, barely able to speak. Whenever I see that item on a menu, I always think of that Christmas Eve.

If you have parents, hug them. Call them. Enjoy them. If you don’t, give yourself a minute to think about them and just feel — be happy, be sad, be grateful, be honest — let yourself feel how you feel, have a good cry and/or a good laugh, and remember something fun.

Cheers to my parents — sorry you got stuck with me, but I’m grateful that you did! 

The Bachelorette

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So, Chris has been gone for over two weeks, taking a class in San Francisco. So I’ve been “baching” it, as Laura Ingalls Wilder was known to say. I miss the good old days when a lady’s wife was out of town and everyone showed up with casseroles. I had to feed myself! 

Okay, that’s basically a lie. Everyone has been lovely — texting me and asking me to do stuff. In fact, I’ve had so many offers that I haven’t been able to accept them all. Rain check, people I haven’t seen!

One of the highlights of the week was a trip to Sarris with some old friends and their kids. 

  Soul sister Marissa, who I haven’t seen in four years, back when…
  This guy was just a baby. 

Despite driving a dozen hours to get to Moundsville, she agreed to drive one more to Canonsburg and go to Sarris, the happiest place on earth. Or in Washington county. 

  
Except when I attack children for their ice cream. 

Chris joked when she left that I would find a new series to binge watch. She was half right, as I started in the middle of season 4 of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” Several episodes later…still going. Watching Willow come out to Buffy for the millionth time simultaneously makes me realize how far we as a society have come and realize how far ahead of its time this show was. “Buffy” is my security blanket, a comforting, familiar, and appreciated one this week. 

Note to self — don’t ewatch “The Body.”

Chris is back Wednesday morning, and she’s coming home to a much cleaner house. We had our shower replaced, and everything was covered in dust as far as the eye can see. That was my project — and a successful one at that, which means when she gets home, none of our regular frenzied cleaning and such. Just a happy reunion. 

And also an AC tune-up. 

I know. I’m so romantic. 
Happy Monday, friends. 

Equality

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Marriage equality, bitches!

Ahem. Excuse me.

Today, the Supreme Court ruled that marriage equality is the law of the land. No more gay marriage ban.

All of the gay marriage!!

  Eh, close enough.

I made the mistake of reading some internet comments, and that brought me down a little bit. I’m getting tired of reading that gay marriage will be the downfall of us as a society, that it will bring the apocalypse, that it’s immoral and it should be illegal. Those are what are called opinions, not facts. Believing homsexuality is wrong is just that — a belief. I am entitled to marry Chris, and the fact that we are two women shouldn’t — and now won’t — stand in our way.

And to those people who think it’s a choice, I encourage you to change your sexuality. Go ahead. I’ll wait. I hear it’s easy.

In the sage words of a true visionary, “There’s only one true judge, and that’s God. So chill and let my father do His job.”

  “Preach, Salt-N-Pepa,” says Graham.

Chris and I have 120 days until we get married (!!!), and I have to say, knowing the bans have been struck down is a good feeling. Nope. Great feeling.

  

 We can do it did it!

Saturday in DC

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Chris’ mom works for a company based out of DC, and their summer event was a Nationals game…against the Pirates. So three of her kids and two of their significant others made our way to DC for the weekend (from Pittsburgh and Raleigh).

Chris and I left Friday night around 9:00pm in order to have more family time and avoid the daylight traffic. We had decent weather the whole way, and that meant we got to have some Saturday-morning shenanigans before the game.

So, I’m terrified of heights, as you might remember from my unsuccessful foray into zip-lining. But…I agreed to go on this. 

 

I don’t know who this couple is, but surprise — you’re on a blog!

We bought tickets and then ate lunch. We headed back to the wheel, and I took my life in my hands.

  
I sure hope somebody competent has control of this wheel.

I had the fear sweats for the first few minutes, but when I calmed down, it was a good time. The views were really nice, and we are all pretty funny.

  
During the fear sweats.

You couldn’t see as much of DC as we were hoping, but it was still a nice time.

  
Post fear sweats.

Luckily, there was an easy way not to disengage your pod from the wheel and plummet to the water.

  
Notfall — check.

Then we headed over to the ballfield for the Pirates game. Karen’s company provided a suite, and, man, was it fancy. The food was great, and the bartender was awesome. When I asked for “lemonade and beer,” she asked if we’d been to Europe, and we talked about radlers for a bit. It was so hot out, a shandy was the perfect drink.

  
The park was okay, but it’s no PNC. We yinzers are spoiled n’at.

We ended up losing the game, but the opposing pitcher, Max Scherzer, threw an almost-perfect game, which was cool to see. He was one hit-by-pitch away from a perfect game and had to settle for a no-hitter. I guess he’ll be okay.

  
We took up a whole row, and not even all of the immediate family came.

After the game was over, a storm descended on the DC metro area.

  
Sure hope this isn’t about that Supreme Court thing…

Chris was a trouper and drove back in a torrential downpour. Other than that bit of rain, it was a really great weekend. Hopefully we’ll have some more shenanigans before we leave tomorrow.

One of my favorite parts of the weekend was realizing who else was here. It turns out my friends Sarah and Jenny (and their families) were here for the weekend, too. Also, my friend Kristin (who made our awesome save-the-dates and is pretty much a design ninja) was supposed to come to the Pirate game. Sadly, strep throat kept her in Richmond, so she didn’t get to experience my “Ashley Judd in ‘A Time to Kill'” sweating firsthand. And I didn’t get to embarass her in front of her boyfriend!

I guess there’s always next time.

Happy Mother’s Day

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I write a lot on here about how I miss my dad sometimes, but let’s not forget about the force that is my mother.

She has always supported me, loved me, and been my number-one defender my entire life. I have heard enough horror stories from my friends to know how lucky I am.

  Chris is the filling in a Chronica’s moms sandwich.

These past 12 years, she has had to act as both mother and father, talking to me every day, listening to me drone on and on (and on and on) about my feelings, and acting as my personal advisor to all questions lawn/garden and handyman-related. She’s one of those rare people that could help you put a dresser together and then tell you what clothes from it would look the best.

  She’s basically Martha Stewart when it comes to azaeleas of the non-Iggy variety.

She may be a tough old bitch, but she’s my tough old bitch.

Chris and I took our moms to the Moundsville Country Club for the Mother’s Day Buffet. It was…a bit disappointing. The food there used to be really good, and the restaurant was nice. This does not appear to be the case anymore.

 The salad was good and the prime rib okay. But otherwise…

Still we had a nice time and took some fun pictures.

  
 And to my right, you’ll see a giant golf course. Nope, nothing else.

Hopefully everyone had a good time. And even if the food wasn’t great, at least we’re all super beautiful.

   Hey-ey!

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I love you. If I can be half as amazing as you are, I’ll be pretty happy.

Puddles

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Tonight, Chris and I and our friend Erin went to see Puddles, a 6’8″ clown who sings. And it was amazing.

This guy has an amazing voice and sings super-fun (yet sad) covers of songs like “Royals,” “Dancin’ Queen,” and “Chandelier.” Also, he did an amazing version of “My Heart Will Go On” that included a picture montage that really has to be seen to be appreciated.

  Puddles meets world-famous blogger Oh Honestly Erin.
We knew beforehand that there would be audience participation, and while all three of us were terrified that we would get chosen for something, I was the only one who kind of still wanted to be chosen. Alas, I was not. 

  We did get some Puddles Cuddles afterwards, so it all worked out in the end.
It was a great show bookended by some delicious food — The Library for dinner and a surprise stop for a cookie at Le Petit Chocolat.

I feel like we hardly ever see Erin anymore — at least, not enough — and this makes twice in 8 days. Let’s try to keep this up!

Then Chris and I got home and had some internet time, and this happened.

  This is even more exciting than when Frank’s Red Hot followed me!

Great show, Puddles. Can’t wait till next time!

  

Lone Fitness

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That title really brings to mind a treadmill in the middle of the desert, a singular tumbleweed rolling across its path. Nothing so dramatic here.

So, I’m sometimes bad at doing stuff by myself, at least for the first time. Chris and I had been taking Zumba together for months, and this time, instead of skipping the two months I’m on afternoons, I opted to join the morning class and go by myself.

With strangers.

And dance to funky Latin beats.

Horror.

But…I went. It was awkward at first. Where do I stand? Am I in someone’s place? Will they cut a bitch if I am? But it all ended just fine. I even made my way towards the front of the class, since the back of it was so heavily populated. I guess I hate being crowded and being in someone’s way more than I hate the thought of someone watching my sweet, sweet dance moves and being jealous. Or laughing at me because girthy.

Another first for me today — I went on a solo bike ride. I just did about 90 minutes total with a couple quick water breaks (and one longer snack break) and went 11.6 miles. I passed last year’s “I can’t believe we made it this far” landmark and kept going. I was going to stop at the first bench after that, but then the cyclist in front of me pulled over and stopped there. And I’m all about the lone fitness, remember?

I’m a loner, Dottie. A rebel.

  No one around for miles yards.
I also rode my bike practically naked.

Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration.

It’s unseasonably warm today in Pittsburgh, and when I was getting ready, I threw on my cycling shorts and then debated about a shirt. I finally ended up with a tank top with my cycling jersey over it. I love the pockets in the jersey and am not particularly attractive in a tank (thanks for the bingo arms, Grandma), but it was really, really warm. I unloaded my bike at the trail and made a brave (for me) decision. Everything fit in my shorts pockets and bike bag (including the jersey, because safety net!), so I set out in my tank top. It wasn’t pretty, but it was comfortable.

Two seemingly insignificant milestones this week, and I’m ridiculously proud of myself. I hate people looking at me (unless I want to be the center of attention — I’m complex). I guess I don’t like it when I feel like they’re making fun of me. 

I’m positive this most definitely does not have its roots in high school.

Anyway, a good, active week. A fun, busy weekend ahead (Birthday! Mother’s Day! Sad Clown!), and one more day of work to get through before it starts.

Have a great weekend, everyone. And if you’re feeling nervous about trying something new, remember — this fat girl wore a tank top in public, and if that doesn’t deserve some type of legitimate award, I don’t know what does.

Wedding Musings

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I’m so excited to get married. I am. I think about random things — first dance, vows, fun touches that we’ll add to the reception because we’re giant nerds, how pretty Chris will look — and I tear up.

Heck, I did right then.  Please enjoy this picture of Graham while I compose myself.

One thing hit me today, though, as I was making breakfast.

 This is technically yesterday’s breakfast. I write a blog of lies.

We’ll be surrounded by all of our friends and family — our mothers, our aunts, our siblings, and the friends we have our ridiculous adventures with. (And a few other people that are invited out of obligation, but whatever. Not you, of course. We want you there. Probably.)

But my dad won’t be there.  Allow me to distract you with another photo. Makeup!

Listen, I don’t mean to give anyone the wrong idea. It’s not like my dad and I talked on the phone every day, discussing our thoughts and dreams and hopes for the future. The guy wasn’t a talker. And we were very different. He had a very scientific, analytical mind, and I…do not.   Also, he liked kids, and I feel more like this about them.

He was just always there, you know? Teaching me how to ride a bike, going to my basketball and volleyball games, teaching me how to drive, supporting me when I quit my job. Acting like I just told him I preferred a different kind of music instead of a different gender when I finally came out to him. “No, I didn’t know that, but okay.”

It will be 12 years this summer that he died, so part of me is frustrated with myself. Like, come on, Monica. You knew he wasn’t going to be around anymore. And most days it’s okay. But some days — like today — it hits me. So instead off doing grown-up stuff, I blog. And look for unrelated pictures to post.

 Oh, Graham.

Chris and I will be walking ourselves down the aisle, probably. Which we would have done regardless of who was available to do it. And I guess that’s pretty fitting. He and my mom raised me to be pretty independent, outspoken, and all that business. Besides, if they wanted to give me away, they probably would have done it when I was an awful, awful teenager.

No pictures. Those were in the middle of my awkward years. But I was a BITCH.

The day of his funeral, my aunt saw a lone mourning dove on her deck. It hooted a few times and flew away. It was unusual, she said, to see one by itself, so it must have been him. So now, every time I hear one, I think of him. They’ve been really loud lately, so I hear them whenever I’m outside or have the window open. Chris texted me this week to say that one flew to her windowsill at work, hopped over in front of her, hooted a few times, and flew away. I called my mom to tell her — our second phone call of the morning, reserved for important stuff — and she said, “Well, I guess he likes her.”

  Indeed.

21.54

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Chris and I have been trying to be more active. Physically, not just doing more stuff, since it seems like we are busy all of the time.

We have been taking Zumba twice a week, and today, I did my first solo morning class (since I recently switched back to afternoon shift). Our instructor was talking to me about biking and asked about the Pedal Pale Ale Keg Ride, and I told her about our ride this Sunday.

Which was 21.54 miles.

I realize to a lot of people, that doesn’t sound like much. When Chris was training for her 100-mile ride around Lake Tahoe, her first practice ride was 20 miles. But I’m still pretty proud of myself. I’m 38 and overweight (and rhyme like a…mate!) and haven’t had much practice on my bike. And I did it.

  
Champions!

I hate being the fat girl who blames her bike, but my bike is…not the best. It does fun things like not shift when i switch gears and then shifting without my doing anything. It made some of the hills difficult. 

We rode on the Montour Trail to Chris’ mom’s house and back, so we had a safety net, which was nice. But she didn’t have to rescue us. Plus, we had a nice lunch from Tandem at her house. 

  
Chris ahead of me, as usual.

Also, a fun surprise when part of the trail was closed, and we had to ride on Valley Brook Road. Also, there was a snake in the path. Surprise danger all around!

Hooray for biking!

Happy Birthday, Chris!

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This past weekend, my lovely fiancée, Chris, turned 35 years of age. Here are 35 random things that will probably involve her! 

  1. So, I love presents and birthdays, so I made her open a gift from me that I had been keeping a secret since February. It is a necklace with a cutout of the United States, and there are two hearts on it in LA & Pittsburgh. Since we were long distance for so long, I thought it was a pretty good gift.
  2. We started early on Wednesday with dinner with Heather and Ryan and their supercute kids. I love all of these guys. We had a delicious Italian dinner and followed it up with some frozen yogurt.  Yogurt is messy business, folks. 
  3. The official festivities started off at the Carnegie Science Center for an over-21 night. We were joined by my brother and sister-in-law, her aunt, and two of her cousins, and we ran into a couple other friends.
  4. It was a good time but a little scary.
  5. I realize they are not actual Stormtroopers, but I was still a little nervous. Which I know is ridiculous, because if they tried to shoot me, I would be just fine. Not known for their accuracy.
  6. And I used all of my restraint not to say, “You’re a little short for a Stormtrooper.” 
  7. We played in some water, making sure to use proper safety techniques.  
  8. We learned all about rivers and woodland creatures, which was fun. Then we got to pretend we lived in a log.
  9.   Hey!
  10. Everyone got in on it!  Might submit this one to Awkward Family Photos.
  11.   The one that started it all.
  12. We walked around some more, and I got so many steps on my Fitbit!
  13. Then this happened.   I got to hold his lightsaber. Not a euphemism.
  14. Then we played air hockey against a robot, and I was the only one of the four of us who won. No big deal.
  15. Except…   I broke it.
  16. Time to head home! It was a really fun night. It was an interesting crowd, with equal parts extreme geeks, hipsters, and lesbians. Unexpected but welcome.
  17. We snuck out a back entrance but were held up because someone didn’t know how to work the ticket gate. Like, really?
  18. I had intended on making a birthday cake from scratch when I got home, but it was really late, so we stopped at the store and got a box mix. Chris requested white cake with blueberries and a lemon buttercream icing.   I even bought this milk that seemed to have been created just for me.
  19. We baked the cake, and though it looked pretty good, it majorly stuck to the pan. I had a bit of a meltdown, I’m ashamed to say. I felt stupid that it didn’t work out. But we made do the next day, and it tasted pretty darn good, even if it wasn’t a beauty.
  20. What it lacked in looks, it made up for in substance.  The self-deprecating part of me wants to say “much like myself,” but that’s inaccurate. I’m a hot piece of ass.
  21. Bedtime was 2:00am for us, and then Chris saw a spider, which made her stay up even later. I wish she would have woken me up. One more present I could have provided!
  22. Early 8:00am wakeup because who wouldn’t want to do a 6-10 mile bike ride in the unseasonably cold morning air with some friends? Happy birthday!
  23. We took part in East End Brewing’s Pedal Pale Ale Keg Ride, which was super fun. They are a near zero-waste, environmentally sustainable brewery, and each year, they host an event that transports their Pedal Pale Ale by bicycle. It was their 11th year and our first (though Jake the Experienced Cyclist had done it before).
  24. The idea is that you show up at the brewery and then do a 6- to 10-mile bike ride to an undisclosed location, where they tap the new keg.  Why does my head look so freaking giant?
  25. Then you have to find your way back by bike, which I was really nervous about. 
  26. Oh, and did I mention we had to ride 6-10 miles first? 
  27. Turns out I had nothing to worry about. The ride was only 6 miles (Chris and I did a practice ride last weekend with her new bike and did 8), and…we ended up back at the brewery.   I may be making that face because my butt hurt. No one knows for sure.
  28. Also, there were 450-plus people, and most of them looked like hard-core cyclists. Very intimidating for this guy. But I kept up and didn’t embarrass myself. Yeah!  
  29. Most importantly, Chris had a great time.  It looks like a car is on fire in this picture, but I think it was delicious-smelling barbecue. I hope.
  30.    Bike madness.
  31. Then…our reward.  The birthday girl took the picture. Sorry, honey. Also, I apparently love shirts with zippers. Can’t wear too many at one time!
  32. We made our way home after that, and friends and some of Chris’ family came over for pizza and cake (which I quickly prepared and applied the icing). Lots of laughter, lots of stories, and lots of delicious food. For some reason, I took no pictures of this. Sorry, America.
  33. Sunday was a bit of lazing, a bit of yardwork, and a bit of cooking.
  34. It was a great weekend, and I think Chris had an even better birthday!
  35. Oh, one more random thing? How about some gushing. I love spending time with Chris, and this weekend was no different. We have so much fun together, whether it’s cycling, posing with Stormtroopers, or cutting down trees. She makes me so happy, and I hope that she felt even a fraction of the happiness she makes me feel every day.  I hope you enjoyed your last birthday as a non-married person, my dear. Because next year at this time, you’ll be married to this dork.