Today’s question: How do you choose your friends?

I don’t think I’ve ever consciously gone out and thought “I’m going to be friends with THAT person.” I think it just comes with exposure and having things in common. One of my closest friends was a prior coworker. We went to lunch together, and discovered that we practically share a brain. I mean, to the extent that now she lives several states away, and I can think about her, and suddenly a text or e-mail appears. It’s a little freaky. I never intended to be this close to her. In fact, the first day I met her, I thought she was kinda ditzy since she couldn’t find the office and was standing practically in front of it. If you’d asked me then if I’d choose her as a friend, I’d have said no. And yet now, after being friends for 7 years, I can’t imagine not knowing her.

A lot of my friends now are people that Donald has been friends with for years. I didn’t choose them, per say, since they’d already known (or been related to) Donald for so long. But I can honestly say that I absolutely would have chosen to be friends with them, even if Donald hadn’t been our link. I’m just so lucky that they’ve all accepted me into their circle.

I tend to gravitate toward people who are smart or funny, or both. I have little patience for stupidity. I like to be able to have an intelligent conversation, and also kick back and have a good time. My friends always have a great sense of humor, and usually a strong sense of sarcasm. I don’t like people who whine or complain a lot (which is hypocritical, since I have a tendency to whine and complain a lot). I like people with strong personalities, who aren’t afraid to say what they’re thinking, and who don’t let people use them as a doormat. And if they like me in return, well that’s certainly a plus.

What about you? How do you choose (or find) your friends?

I was 20 years old and had just broken up with my first real boyfriend of 2 years. I was still very much in love with him, but for various reasons, couldn’t continue to be with him. I picked up a night job at the coffee shop inside the bowling alley where I spent all my time, for both extra cash, and a distraction. Scott was a mechanic at the bowling alley and at the time, a generally likable person. We started dating a bit, mostly becoming a pair in the group of friends we shared. Then things turned ugly. I found out he was married. How did I find out, you ask? When a friend got a call saying that Scott’s wife was on the rampage and on her way to the Denny’s where a bunch of us were, to kick my ass. Awesome!

I was stupid back then, and didn’t dump him in that instant. Instead, I helped him file his divorce papers, and eventually let him move in with me. At the time, I saw nothing wrong with this plan. In hindsight, all I can say is Oy. We continued dating a few more months, and he got increasingly clingy, and I got increasingly annoyed. On my 21st birthday he forbid me to go out with my friends because he had to work. That was the final straw for me. No one tells me how to live my life or spend my time, least of all him. So I dumped him. Repeatedly. And he kept begging to come back. He refused to get his stuff from my apartment (I eventually had a mutual friend come remove it for him). He kept calling and telling me he loved me and that I was making a mistake.

And then he started stalking me.

The first time I noticed it I was home watching a movie with a friend. I saw a movement over near my window, and looked over. I thought maybe a cat was walking by and I was seeing the shadow. And then I saw Scott’s eyes looking at me in between some crooked vertical blinds. I screamed and he ran off. My friend ran out after him, but he took off in his car quickly. I was shaken. I was beyond shaken, I was terrified. I couldn’t stay in that apartment anymore. We left and hung out with some friends for a few hours before I could force myself to go back home. I brought reinforcements with me because I was entirely too scared to sleep there by myself. Feeling mildly safer with people sleeping on my couches, I tried to force myself to sleep. Sleep just would not come for me that night. Or many nights into the future.

A few nights later I was in that same Denny’s parking lot hanging out with a group of friends (when the bowling alley closed, we just congregated at the only all night place in the neighborhood. Denny’s). Someone pointed out a car in the parking lot across the street that looked like Scott’s. I froze. After careful investigation, we found out that Scott was watching me. I was freaked out. I didn’t know how to deal with this. I jumped in my car and sped home. Moments later, my friends all came over too. They wouldn’t let me be alone, thankfully. We turned on the tv and I tried to calm myself down. It was working until my friend Jeffy jumped up and said “Scott’s out there” and then went running outside. I cried. I crumpled like a dry leaf and just sobbed. I remember someone called the cops, but Scott was long gone before they got there. I don’t remember much else except obsessively checking the vertical blinds to make sure they were straight.

I called the cops the next day with the intention of filing a restraining order. I was informed that I couldn’t get a restraining order unless he threatened me or my property with harm. Which, sadly, he hadn’t. He just made me feel unsafe in my own home. Apparently, that’s not a crime. So there was nothing I could do. I spent a lot of time at a neighbor’s place, when none of my friends could be at my apartment with me. I never spent another night alone in that apartment. I guess he got the hint eventually, because he stopped following me around (though continued to badmouth me to anyone who’d stop to listen). He keyed “Bitch” into the hood of my beat up old car sometime after that. The thing was was such a piece of junk that it actually made me laugh that anyone would think keying it would be some sort of insult. A short while later I started dating Jason, my now ex-husband, and I think his size alone scared Scott into backing off.

I regret all that drama just because of the fear it brought me. For years I’ve had an issue with vertical blinds. Even after I moved out of that apartment, I’ve had a compulsion to make sure they’re all perfectly straight at all times. Even at other people’s houses, I’d casually adjust the blinds so they’d be straight and people couldn’t peek in the windows. It’s ridiculous, especially since I knew he wasn’t following me anymore, and I knew he didn’t know where I lived. There are still some occasions where I see the blinds slightly crooked, and I feel scared. I hate that. I hate that it still gets to me, especially when I’m home alone late at night. It’s been over 10 years. I should get past it by now.

I regret to inform you, I’m still scared of vertical blinds.

Thankfully, I have them now.

Last year 6 of us went to Pittsburgh for 5 days and had an amazing time. We toured Heinz Field, drove into Canton to see the Football Hall of Fame, and capped off an amazing weekend with a Steelers vs. Vikings game (Steelers won, of course, and now I can say I’ve seen Brett Favre in action). It was the best vacation I’d ever been on, and the main reason was because of the people we went with. Since we got back we’ve been talking about doing another trip, and I’m SO happy to say we’ve got our destination.

Jamaica.

Next year is Jamey & Jeff’s 10th anniversary, and the 4 of us are going to Jamaica to celebrate.  It’ll also be Donald’s birthday while we’re there, as well as the 3 year anniversary of us dating, so we’ll have loads to celebrate. I could not be more excited. The reservation was made this morning, and now there’s no turning back!

303 days!

Yes, you read that correctly. I’m not walking this year, I’m running/jogging. I’ve been working on the Couch to 5K program for the last few weeks, and by October 16, I’ll be fully able to run an entire 5K. Since the route we use has a lot of hills, and my practice route has exactly none, I decided I’d be safer to give myself some wiggle room when it comes to running the entire thing. I will run as much as I can and jog the rest if I need to. The downside to this plan is that I’ll be doing it on my own. My friends will all be walking the route while I run. I’m hoping that with enough training, I can run through the entire 5K, and then catch up to my friends and walk the rest of it with them. Since it’s July, and the event is in October, I won’t make any promises just yet. But that’s my ultimate goal.

So here’s where you guys come in. I need support. Monetarily and emotionally. If you can come and walk or run with us, that’d be great! I could use a partner or two to come run with me. If you can’t be there in person, I hope you can support us with a small donation. Every dollar counts, and if you can only spare a dollar, it’ll mean just as much to me as if you can spare $100. Last year our team raised the 4th largest amount at the event, and this year we want to do better. This year my unofficial niece, Kyla (a sister of my unofficial nephew, Jaxson) is representing the American Diabetes Association as the 2010 Step Out Youth Ambassador! Kyla is the main reason we all participate every year, and I’m so proud of her for taking on this leadership role!

The link to donate is on that big button up there on the right sidebar, or you can click the link below. I appreciate anything you can donate, whether it be money, time, or just your good wishes.  Here’s to hoping that we find a cure!

Donate or Sign Up here:

http://main.diabetes.org/goto/denora

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Why are certain housing communities able to declare themselves 55+ senior communities? I’m not talking about Leisure World or assisted living facilities either. I mean home builders who only sell homes in a particular area to the older set. Isn’t that descrimination? You can’t just decide to only sell certain homes to white people, so why can they do that with older people? Is there a law I’m unaware of that makes this ok?

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Why is it ok for cops to break the law in non-emergency situations? I cannot tell you how many times I see a police car driving down the street and making lane changes or turning corners without a turn signal on, or even talking on their cell phone. That’s something they wouldn’t hesitate to give me a ticket for, so why is it ok for them to do? Shouldn’t they be an example to the general public?

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Why do things that are happening live on the West Coast get taped delayed for those of us living here? For example, an awards show (Grammy’s, Emmy’s, Oscar’s, etc) starts live here at 4pm, and is shown live on the East Coast. But those of us who LIVE HERE have to wait until 3 hours later to watch it. Why can’t it be shown here at 4pm too?

The funny part is that despite the fact that I feel like I’m behind, and that I’m unemployed, I have never been happier. I have awesome friends and family, and an amazing man who loves me more than I ever thought anyone could. I have the time to do the things I want to do, like learning to cook, planting flowers, and line dancing. I am just plain happy.

I was taking a FREE line dancing class at a nearby senior center every Monday for the past month and a half. A little over a week ago I got an e-mail from the instructor informing me that someone had actually complained that I was not old enough to be in the class, and therefore I was not allowed to come back. Apparently, you need to be 50 to enter the senior center. (Might I point out that 50 isn’t even technically a senior citizen? Oh, sorry. Logic need not apply here.) I was angry at first, because it’s just a stupid rule. If the class was full, and I was taking a spot from an actual senior, then I might understand it a little. But the class isn’t even half full, and while I’m a large woman, I’m not so big that I take up more than my share of space. I wonder if it were a fee-based class would I still be kicked out? In that case I’d be providing money to the center, so I’m actually helping them, rather than using up their precious air for free. Now, I think it’s funny. I got kicked out of a line dance class because I’m not old enough. At 31.

I have years and years to buy a house, find a job, and have kids. I need to keep reminding myself of that. Because while I feel like I’m getting old, I guess I’m still not old enough for some things.