Archive for March, 2008

LAX and all the joys it brings

Posted in Heart-to-Hearts on March 20, 2008 by Danielle Self

I love getting emails from people you forgot about- or even better- people you assumed had forgotten about you.  That magical moment when you see their name in your inbox can’t be explained.  Before even reading the email you start to smile because that means that even for a brief moment you were on their mind.

With that being said, I opened up my email today to see that LA Lawyer had written me.  Now, not many of my friends know about LA Lawyer seeing as its kind of a complicated situation and most of my friends are shallow enough to deem me “skanky” after I continued to keep in contact with him.  Therefore- I’m going to put this out in bloggy land and gush there.

On my semi-recent flight back home, I met someone.  An amazing someone to be exact.  First of all I would like to point out that I was taking my 2 year old niece back home and had already been stripped of my ring so I slightly resembled a scared (yet very trendy- I might add) single mother. Therefore, I expected to get 0 looks… much less talks and subsequent exchanging of phone numbers and emails.  Anyways- this amazing someone sat next to me on the long flight from LA to Houston.  At first I was a little nervous seeing as its a fairly lengthy flight and I don’t like being that close to people I don’t know.  But, nevertheless, this very attractive man introduced himself and commented on how cute my “daughter” was.  I quickly explained that I am no mother, simply a very caring, helpful, nice, sweet, loving sister who bends over backwards for the men in her life. (Ha! I’m not lying… I swear) My niece fell asleep within the first 10 minutes of flight leaving the entire time to just LA Lawyer and me.

We talked about everything from college, to parents, to love, to life in general.  I’m telling you- this man probably knows more about me now than some of my closest friends.  I kid you not.  He told me a multitude of things about himself including how he grew up in Beverly Hills, he is Yale Alumni, he was starting guard 4 years on the basketball team at Yale, he is a lawyer in a prestigious law firm in LA, he has 2 sons- one of which is 13 (Um… 6 years younger than me?! EEEK!), he is divorced, single etc. etc. At this point I’m thinking- Wow nice guy… but you would think that he would come up with a better story than being a rich, successful, intelligent, driven, attractive, stable guy who loves kids and is interested in me.  I mean, those just don’t sit next to you on every flight.  We talked a little about age and I begrudgingly told him how old I really was.  I could tell that he was a lot older than me and it would have been a lot better to say I was oh… 25. But no- damn my honest nature. He kind of chuckled a bit but never actually said how old he was.  There was not a silent moment the entire flight.  I was amazed at how easy it was to talk to him.  When the pilot came over the intercom to say that we were landing- my heart dropped.  I knew that these past few wonderful hours were coming to a close and there would be nothing more of it.  He is a late thirties (or so I thought) lawyer living in LA and I’m a 19 year old college student taking a break from school to live in Hawaii.  Right before the pilot turned off the seatbelt sign he turned to me and said “******, I’ve really enjoyed talking to you.  I know this seems crazy, but I really want to see you again.  And soon.  Lets figure something out so we can get to know each other more. Heres my card. My cell phone number is on the back. Please, call.” Then away he went down the isle as my jaw rests lightly on the floor because THAT just happened.  The last flight of the day I was in total La La Land and feeling quite confident about myself as well.

When I got home, the La La Land feeling had faded and I got to thinking- this guy surely must be a con artist and has an amazing back story to make every girl swoon.   Um, no. Me being the delightfully resourceful/nosy/stalker that I am, Googled Him. Yes, I did. And I didn’t have to search far either.  The very first link that came up was LA Lawyer. It was the firm’s website where they had an entire page filled to the brim with his accomplishments including all the ones he had told me about and more.  Um- anyone watch CNN’s Burden of Proof? He used to frequent that show as a main commentator.  I was floored. Partly to the fact that I saw his graduation year from Law School was a number of years before I was even born.

Regardless of his age, I still had to talk to him again.  Since I am a Southern Belle and we like to pretend its the 1800s, I was always taught that a lady is NEVER to call a gentleman whom there may be romantic interest until there is an established relationship. I stray from this occasionally but generally am pretty good about it. Therefore, instead of calling, I emailed.  (I never said there weren’t loop holes.) The next day, I had a reply.  We kept up daily emails for about 3 weeks until I started freaking out that he was planning on coming to Hawaii in 2 weeks to see me.  Uh- yes.  MAJOR FREAK OUT.  I mean what exactly does a mid-40s man expect when flying out to see a 19 yr old that he met on a plane once? I had NO idea… I can’t get into bars… I wasn’t sure how comfortable I would be hanging out in his hotel or whatever… I freaked out and stopped emailing.  Seeing as he would have spent last Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday morning here, last Monday I decided to email him back a response and just say I got “really busy at work and things have been hectic.” I honestly didn’t expect a reply from him…. but today I got one! And I’m happy about it too.  I’m not thinking that coming to visit me in NWA has the same lure of visiting me in HNL though. ;-)

Blog-tastic Work Fun

Posted in Blogging, Hawaii, Work on March 19, 2008 by Danielle Self

I realize that I’ve been blogging out the wazoo the past couple days but hey- I have a lot of catching up to do. Plus some scandalous tidbits of life just happened and were literally begging to be put on the web.

I work at a small real estate company in Honolulu as an office assistant. Just general office work is my specialty. I smile and greet people, type, organize, manage, etc. I have been employed here for 4 months and absolutely love the people that I work with. (Yea… some are socially awkward but they grew up in Hawaii… what can you expect?) However, I have made a recent life decision that I am moving back to Arkansas to continue with school and be closer to my family. I’ve known this for about a month now and have already put a deposit on an apartment and reapplied (and been accepted) to school. While, I haven’t exactly told work yet, I have an excuse. I am not moving until the middle of May and being as it is now the middle of March, I don’t want them to find someone else and me be without a job for the next two months while my bills and moving expenses go off without a hitch. Therefore, I’m waiting until the beginning of May to tell them. I figure that that would be best seeing as it still gives them two weeks to find someone new and I still get to keep my job as long as possible.

One problem- I apparently kick ass at my job and am better than anyone they have ever had. Last month, (right after I put down my deposit) they presented me with a raise, which I gladly took. Our president is in town this week and I just got out of a meeting with him and the Principal Brokers about 2 minutes ago… and I’m apparently getting a promotion to presenter as well. Meaning that I’ll be getting another raise and bonus every time someone signs a Buyer’s Agreement. Holy. Cow. My lies are getting bigger and bigger. I’m not sure how much longer I can hide this. Apparently everyone in the office was in on this little secret but me because they keep coming up to me with their faces all lit up asking if I’m excited and saying “Congrats!” And well really, I can’t be like “Oh, thanks but no thanks. I don’t like having more money. I’ll pass on the promotion. ‘Preciate it though!” So I keep having to put up this front like I’m planning on living in Hawaii forever and that I love my job and I can’t wait for them to spend countless moments training me for this position I’m going to have a month and a half and then bolt. And on top of that I’m going to be getting like a $3/hr raise… Blah! I’m on lunch break right now with my trusty laptop fuming over the presentation of my newly acquired presentation skills that I’m supposed to give in oh…. 2 hours. I was presented the information for the first time about 45-60 minutes ago. Apparently this is what its like to be a big girl with a big girl job. Who knew?

** Update** I’ve decided not to take the job.  Wish me luck in explaining why to my bosses tomorrow…

2 weddings and a funeral.

Posted in Love, Weddings on March 18, 2008 by Danielle Self

I’m sitting on the couch all alone seething in the fact that my lovable little puppy just looked me in the eye, lifted his leg, and pissed on my gym bag.  <— Not entirely relevant to my post… but bothered me nonetheless.

Actually, I was sitting here watching “How Do I Look?” on the Style Network and just generally reveling in the reality show world that seems to have taken over my life when the makeoveree comes out and looks AMAZING. This chick who was 100% nasty trailer trash goodness comes out and looks hott. H-O-T-T. Seriously.  Then her boyfriend comes up and hugs her and tells her that she looks amazing and then drops on one knee and proposes.  At this point, most other girls would tilt their head to one side, sigh, and do some form of “awwwwww!” Whereas in my case, I start crying uncontrollably.  I wonder if this will ever end? Its odd to think that had things been still going to plan I would be a mere 136 days from walking down the isle.

I can’t help but rub my ring finger every time I think of him and know that MY ring is sitting in a box in his closet. MY ring…. that I may never wear again.  I went over to his place one night and after a few drinks mustered up the courage to ask if I could wear it for the night. Why? …. Because Last Year’s Queen still wants it to be her year.  After approximately 35 seconds I took it off again.  It was too much. This gorgeous ring that I picked out myself, that meant so much, and promised me the world and all the happiness it can bring is now just a piece of metal and a rock. There’s no promise now- no hope- no “when we have kids”- no us…. which is the hardest part.

J proposed on October 1st.  A very short and intense 37 days from the very first time we met. I just “knew”. Thats how I explained it to people when they told me I was crazy for doing it so young and so quickly.  I told them I know it sounds crazy but “I just know.” Don’t I look dumb now? Survey says- Yes.

However, I still find it necessary for some reason to keep the Bridal Mags that I bought that first weekend and watch the Style Network. (Which should really be called- “We like shoving it in your face that we found so many people that are getting married to make a new episode to every show on this channel every week and you aren’t one of them” Network.)  I guess I like to believe theres still hope for us… something. I at least try rationalizing my odd behaviors.

Its one of those things that I know its probably not the best thing for me. I believe that once a man yells “God. Are you Fucking Stupid?!?!” in your face when you are trying to park his car for him… then you should walk away.  I apparently can’t.  Guess I’ll just continue to mind screw myself into this fracking huge hole I’m digging.

Oh and dog that peed on my gym bag?  Engagement gift from said ex…  Super.

Indeed, Hello World.

Posted in Back Ground, Growing Up, life, Love on March 18, 2008 by Danielle Self

I’ve decided to break into the blogging world. Will it be successful? Um, doubtful. However, I’ve come to the conclusion that I have way too many thoughts bouncing around my head at any given moment and it would do me some good to have a let out. My other blog happens to be known by everyone I would be talking about… so thats a definite no-go. I’m not going to lie- its pretty liberating being anonymous for once. Coming from a small town in Arkansas where everyone knows your name and your GPA from high school 4 years ago and what you wore to graduation and how many times you’ve been home since going away to college and how many guys you slept with while you were there and… you get the picture. I was captain of the cheerleading squad and the one girl that everyone thought would be said town’s claim to fame when she won Miss America… so that whole “knowing everything about you and your dog” thing- went doubly for me.

I’m not really sure where to begin so I suppose I will just give everyone a brief Reader’s Digest Version of my life so if you read later posts you won’t be too terribly lost.

  • I was born X number of years ago in Michigan to my wonderful parents. (Clarification- born to one great parent and one sucky parent.) My father was in the Air Force so we moved a lot between birth and about the time I started First Grade. I actually started a Kindergarten class to move less than 3 weeks later. I grew up in Arkansas. Blah blah blah… normal-ish childhood. (i.e. Dad never really “there.” Mom super over achiever and probably way too involved in my life to try and compensate)
  • Age 13 hits and I get my first boyfriend and first kiss only to have my Wonderful Father run his large truck into our garage collapsing it less than two weeks later. The big news is out- My father is a prescription drug addict. I’m moved literally overnight to the Deep South of Arkansas… or what I like to refer to as Satan’s own Personal Torture Chamber. I was forced to go to private school because public schools “weren’t safe (for a white girl like you).” Yes- I come from a long line of ill-informed racists.
  • I left the HellTown a semester and a half later and came back up to where I rightfully belong- Northwest Arkansas- the home of Hog Hats, “Woo Pig Sooie”, Wal-Mart, Pageant Patty, the typical Southern “Greek Life or Die” Mentality, and a serious alcoholism problem.
  • I had a fairly normal junior high and high school experience. I was popular, captain of the cheerleading squad, became high school sweethearts with the star on the basketball team, began pageants, and kept my nose sparkling clean. I, in fact, never had a single drop of alcohol until a month or so before graduation and because of my father I grew a deep hate for drugs so they were never present either.
  • I broke up with my high school sweetheart to have more time for pageant practice in the winter of my junior year. Being that he had graduated a couple years before me, was still living at home, still had no job, and had no intention of working towards anything like that… I didn’t feel bad.
  • Shortly after that, although not yet graduated, I entered my “college life” phase where I refused to hang out with my old friends because they were still into all the high school drama and (insert Regina George) I was so above that.
  • I met a Razorback Baseball player and was amazed that he found me interesting and attractive and wanted to date (a.k.a. sleep with) me. This started my submission to guys in the form of getting naked whenever they wanted me to. I’m not proud of it… but thats what happened. Baseball Hottie was AMAZING in bed… not that I had much to compare it to seeing as I was a solid 16 and he was 22. I quickly became “that girl.” You know the type- the girl that he takes to parties simply for the fact that all his friends wanted to see this hot high school chick that was so obsessive and did whatever Baseball Hottie wanted her to. I went to his games sporting his number and looked at all the other girls wearing his number (he was a well-known player) thinking they wished they were me… I mean he had agreed to meet my mom so that he could date me! That totally meant that I was the only one…. right? Mmmhmm.
  • Baseball Hottie went to camp that summer and while he was gone I decided to fill my time with college classes at the local Community College. Being the overachiever that I was I sat in the front row of class so I could suck up properly, get as many notes as possible, and remain focused. After all, I was kind of sort of maybe in a relationship! I wasn’t there for boys. Nevertheless, I was overall disappointed in the quality of cute guys in my classes. Until the second day. Holy. Mother. of. Christ. This guy was hot…. and funny… and smart… and older… and well hot. So the second week of class I noticed that he was no longer in the deep recesses of the back of class but was definitely sitting right behind me. I played it cool… no big deal. That, I suppose, was when I officially met T. Now, pay close attention to this guy because he’ll be the focus of many if not most of my posts. T was a fraternity boy, a sophomore in college, and a damn good dresser. I instantly fell for him. However, I was known as “the high school chick” in class being that I was the only person under the age of 21. I didn’t know how to act, what to say, what to wear, or anything. All I knew was screw Baseball Hottie and his games… I wanted a real man. I wanted T. I honestly was so nervous around him that for the first 3 weeks of class I didn’t even know his name although we talked everyday. I was too busy thinking about how to be cooler than I was than to pay attention to roll call. This class is also where T deemed me with his special nickname. (Which later became my drunk alter ego.) In the last bit of class, all my prayers were answered. He at that point asked for my number. We shamelessly flirted for the next week until the last couple days of class rolled around and my mom decided that being that I was still in high school I wasn’t allowed to hang out with people she didn’t know. So… begrudgingly I asked T if he would come 30 minutes away to my house and meet my mom so that we could keep hanging out. That was probably one of the more traumatic moments in my life but amazingly he agreed. They met and as we were walking upstairs to continue the tour of my house the most beautiful thing happened. He turned me around and we kissed for the very first time. I literally saw fireworks. It was the most perfect moment. Our whirlwind romance continued all summer. He had to go back to his hometown which was about an hour and a half from where I lived so that whole summer I lived for phone calls and IMs. The summer culminated by us reuniting at his fraternity house and having sex for the first time. Even now I still smile when I think about it… especially when I think about how his “passed out” roommate was faking the whole time so that T wouldn’t kick him out and he could watch.
  • T and I never were in a “relationship” per say. We were just “together.” He was not my boyfriend. I repeat- not my boyfriend. I had issues grasping that when we were seeing each other though. My mom wouldn’t allow me to go to his fraternity functions and having a high school- college relationship is hard in general anyways. When I would ask the unaskable- “where is this going?” He would always reply that he didn’t want to complicate things and with my going to college the next year he didn’t want me to have a boyfriend because it was inevitable that my “no drinking” moto would go out the window along with any other said morals I had and it was better that I get through that phase with him as an understanding friend versus a pissed off ex boyfriend. I took it…. didn’t believe a single word of it… but took it anyways.
  • The end of the school year marked a turning point for he and I. He got arrested for stealing. NOW- he is not one of those kinds of guys… he was really drunk from Rowe Week and he and his friend decided to go to their freshman dorm and demand drinks from their old rooms. When they found out it worked- the continued to every other room that would open their door. Next thing he knows- he wakes back up at the fraternity with some 8 or so iPods, video games, video consoles, and other random things laying next to his bed. And then the cops come with footage of him in the elevator with all the stuff. He gets arrested and spends some time in jail and is now on probation. This probation caused his parents to negatively view the University and fraternity. They made him come home and finish up school and the small college there. So I’m 5 months from living on campus with him and proving to him that I’m not like every other freshman and he is again 45 minutes away. Super.
  • You know all that stuff he said about me becoming an alcoholic and losing my morals? Long story short- He was wrong. It was WAY worse. Now nearly every freshman drinks on the weekends… but do they wake up at 8, still drunk from the night before, and grab a bottle of rum and start taking it straight from the bottle? Probably not. I had to have people hide liquor from me. I slept with whoever was closest to fill my T less void. In fact my lovely friends have coined a phrase for people even when I’m not around. “Are you getting drunk?… or are you getting *special nickname* drunk?” This created a rift between T and I. He went to a couple functions with me for my sorority and finally around Christmas he had had enough…. he told me he wanted to cut all ties. So… I drank more… and things were never the same.T and I are still friends and talk on a nearly daily basis. But things are different and more complicated now.
  • At the end of my freshman year, my brother’s wife left him. He is in the Army stationed in Honolulu, HI. He asked me if I wanted to come out for the summer and take care of his daughter while he was at work since he had custody for the next 3 months. I did. And I’m still here 10 months later. Seeing that I was still uber upset and obsessed over T, my brother invited me to get away from everything for a bit and move in with him. I didn’t see a down side. I’d get away from T and that whole situation. I’d get away from the immense peer pressure to drink. I’d get to live in freaking Hawaii. Why not? I made it official in August.
  • A week and a half after returning from Arkansas for a visit, I went on my first date with J who is in the Navy. It was my 19th birthday. See J is from my small hometown in Arkansas but I really didn’t know that he existed seeing as he moved in after high school and he is almost 5 years older than me. It must have been fate for us to live in the same super small town for 2 years only to meet in Honolulu, HI. We became an official couple Sept 1st. He proposed October 1st. We ended the engagement December 25th. Yes… it was a lovely Christmas. And broke up completely a week or so after that. We are still in the damned limbo “together” shit that T put me through and I swore I would never take again…. right.

So that bring anyone who may be reading this up to date. Welcome to my life.