My loneliness ain't killin' me no more

Something has been weighing on me lately. It was a comment that was made to me a few years ago, said by a frenemy with the intent to hurt me. She said "It's no wonder you're single." As if my charming personality has anything to do with it.
Let's get one or two things straight.
I am single by my own choosing. I don't mean to sound vain, but if I wanted to be in a relationship, I could. The guy would probably be a huge bore, or abusive, or far too nerdy, or just plain repulsive. You see, I hold myself to a pretty high standard. I don't want to be with just anybody for the rest of my life. If you're familiar with this so very popular blog, you'll know that I've talked very passionately about how I refuse to settle. That means that by all measures necessary, I will not let myself just end up with some Joe Schmoe, just because I don't think I can do better.
Through the course of my ever exciting life, I've been in relationships that my heart was not in as well. Were the guys terrific, stand-up citizens? Well, depending on who you ask, the answers could differ... But for the most part, yes, they were really great guys. Sadly, I couldn't stand to stay with them because my heart just wasn't in it. At the very least, I tried my best to Stockholm Syndrome myself because some of them were pretty well off in the financial sense, as awful as that makes me sound. Alas, it was no use.
Does the guy I'm going to be with for the rest of ever have to be perfect? Ew. No. I would more than likely hate him. But he does have to be perfect for me, in the sense that we understand, accept, and love each other, while being on the same path or paths that easily mesh. As far as I know, I haven't met him yet. If I have met you, get off your obstinate bum and wife this up. Or common law wife this up. Or long-term live-in girlfriend this up. Whatever. We can cross that bridge when we get to it.
Yes, I am very aware that the frenemy was trying to say that I get dumped a lot. Like I don't know that. If a guy doesn't want to be with me, good. I mean, I wish they'd let me know sooner rather than when I'm planning our wedding, two weeks in, but beggars can't be choosers. If a guy doesn't like me, what makes you think I should want to be with him. Obviously, the guys who don't want to date me can't see that I'm flawless.
I joke a lot about how terrible it is being single. Why? Because it is traditionally more accepted for a girl of my age to be in a long term relationship, and people expect me to be bitter and, frankly, it's kind of fun. But really, I'm happy. Ideally, I would already be settled down, but I'm not. If the right guy were to come along tomorrow, swell. It would make this post seem kind of silly and we could laugh and laugh about how ironic it was. In the slight off chance that that doesn't happen, this is for all the people who worry about me and my singularity. I'm not hopeless. It will happen. Sure I might be old and grey, but I won't be past lovable (if I ever was there).
But if I weren't single, what would I even occasionally blog about?

Popcorn popping on the apricot tree.

I was recently asked why I chose to leave The Church. If you don't know what I mean by "The Church," I'm referring to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latterday Saints, aka The Mormon Church.
I in no way mean for this post to be negative, nor do I want anyone who might be unbiased towards The Church to be swayed. Also, I don't mean to offend anyone. If you find yourself offended, you obviously didn't know me when I was devout and you don't know me now. I simply want to get my feelings out there.
Any person who grew up in The Church might be able to tell you that, regardless of the best intentions, those who stray off of the Path of Righteousness during their youth (or any other time for that matter) tend to be cast as black sheep. You know what I mean. As archaic as it sounds, people will talk about your transgressions. I know. I was one of those people. I was one of the ones who would give pitying glances to people I knew weren't being their best. I even almost disowned a friend because I found out that she had premarital sex. Can you imagine how terrific my victims felt? How awesome it feels to be called "That Muller girl" or whatever your name and gender may be? Anyways... Once I had matured, I never understood how people could see the light if they had never seen darkness. Now, I'm not saying that we should go out and build more distilleries, meth labs, and brothels. My point is that, some people need to see what's out there to know that it's not right. Or it's kind of like kids who don't learn by being lectured and taking notes. Some kids need physical evidence to learn. Take the Amish, for instance. They have Rumspringa. They encourage their young adults to go out and experience the world and get all the wild out, and when they are ready, to come back and continue on the path of their faith or leave the church altogether. Sure, if you leave the church you get shunned, but that's not my point. In the Mormon faith, you're encouraged to be faithful for faith's sake, then go out and bother other people to be faithful, and then start a family ASAP. Let me reiterate that that's dandy for everyone else. But that's not what I wanted to sign up for.
Another reason is that I never understood the reason to gather as a mass (pardon my Catholic pun) to worship. Yes, all religions tend to do that. Yes, I know we were told to by God, "For where two or three gather in my name" yada yada. But I always saw it as a "I'm more righteous/faithful/inspired than you" party. Especially when it came to bearing testimonies. It's wonderful that people want to express their love for the Lord and The Church and whatnot. But if you want to HumbleBrag about what obstacles you overcame this week that made you appreciate the things around you, save that for Thanksgiving or your Facebook status or your Christmas newsletter that no one's going to read. I prefer worshiping on my own, in my own way, without others butting in and pointing out that they're doing a better job. If you want to simply call that prayer, so be it.
The third reason(s) were personal things that happened to me concerning fellow members. If you don't know the things that happened, you don't need to or I don't like you, etc. More or less, on various occasions, upstanding members did some pretty low things to me or around me. I know not everyone's perfect. But don't stand there and act like you are and tell people you are. I found it hard to be a part of a church where people could be completely two-faced and that was celebrated and encouraged. Where people would stab you in the back, tell the people around you that you fell on the knife, and everyone would act as if nothing bad had ever happened. That doesn't work for me. If you're going to mistreat me, go ahead. But I don't want to be persecuted for punching you in the face in return. And I know that I shouldn't let a handful of people define The Church. But they're already doing it. Things like this broke my spirit and my heart. I felt that I had put so much into The Church and it was ok for some people to be bad and be hurtful, but not me. Nope, nope nope.
In summation, I'd really like to say it's just the wrong time for me to be a part of The Church, that I need to sow my wild oats, and just like the Prodigal Son, I'll return to open arms. Sadly, I don't think that's true. I still have my own beliefs, most of which The Church helped instill in me, but mostly I have my own moral compass which will be stronger than anyone's opinion any day. If you don't whole-heartedly support my choices, that's fine and I'm not hurt by that. I'm not looking to argue with anyone and I'm not looking to being invited back to church. I've found my peace and I'm happy with where it is. Yes.

So I read somewhere that every time you fall in love, you lose two friends. If that's remotely true, I believe that every time you fall out of love, you lose even more.
Looking back at my past breakups, I've lost way too many friends in the crossfire. I've lost friends to malicious rumors, to other friends, and to no longer being around. It's really heartbreaking. These were really good friends, friends that got me through hard times and were there for me when no one else was. And then the tables turned. I needed these people and they pulled the rug right out from under me. Saying they turned on me might be too harsh, but at the time that's how it felt.
The following is going to seem angry, but I know that in my heart of hearts, there's no reason for me to be upset anymore.
I want to thank the friend who told all my friends that I cheated on the latest ex at that time. If you hadn't done that, I wouldn't have moved on from that stage in my life and found the friends I have now.
I want to thank the friend who married the guy I thought I was going to marry. If you hadn't moved in before I got a chance to rekindle that relationship, I would probably still be pretending to be someone that I never really liked.
I want to thank the friends who stopped talking to me after I left the church/ after they got married . If you would have kept in contact, I would probably still have talked to you and tried to be your friend, but since you didn't I realized that it's the quality of my friends, not the quantity.
If any of the aforementioned friends read this, I'd like to recap that I'm not mad about it anymore. And if you want to catch up, I'd really like that. Thanks.

At least out loud, I won't say I'm in love.

To start off, I don't want to jinx myself, as I've done in the past, by saying that I like this Evan guy more than a little. Because, if you haven't noticed, when I do blog about a guy I'm dating, things inevitably end directly afterwards. So I'm not going to do that.
I'm not going to say that we love each other. I'm not going to say that I love being around him. I'm not going to say that we go together very well. I won't say any of that.
I'm not going to divulge that we never would have met if it wasn't for me lustfully saying "I love you" under my breath as he was walking out the door of Rutters. I'm not going to tell you about how we were never supposed to meet and he was never supposed to fall head over heels in love with me. I would never.
I'm not going mention that I get pissed off when I'm not around him, but the second I'm back with him I'm fine. I'm not going to explain to you how he won't officially ask me out until he can make it "special" or some such nonsense. I just couldn't.
So, maybe I'll blog about those things one day, but that day is definitely not today.

Let me share with you the details of my trip home tonight. Believe me: you want to know them.
So, I'm driving along, minding my own business, grooving to the sweet sounds of Radiohead, when I see a sign saying "CAUTION: SOBRIETY CHECK AHEAD." My first thought was great. I seem a little drunk during every moment of my life, so this can't go well. So, I pull up to the designated check area and am greeted by three cops. All of whom are staring at me like I might pull out a glock at any point, because apparently I look like someone who would do that. After some "Hello theres" and "How are you this evening, Ma'ams," the center cop (whom I like to refer to as The Good Guy) asks for my license and registration. Having little experience with being pulled over, I pulled out my registration and had to ask the cop if that was indeed the paper he needed. Meanwhile, the other two were making comments on how I had too many snacks and whether or not I had just come to a sleepover. The Good Guy noticed their commentary and saw my bag of Lay's Chicken and Waffles and asked if I liked them, to which I answered positively and discussed the other flavors with him. Then the fun part starts. I will now transcribe this in script form.

Scene- Still at the stupid sobriety check
Asshole Cop: Hey. Are those brass knuckles on your shirt?
Me: Yeh. It's a shirt for br--
A.C.: You got brass knuckles on your shirt?? [to all 30 volunteers and cops standing around staring at my car] HEY YOU GUYS! SHE'S GOT BRASS KNUCKLES ON HER BOOBS!!
The Good Guy: Alright Ma'am, you have a good evening and drive back to East Berlin safely.
Me: Uh... Yeh.
The End.

So, in conclusion,
since I wasn't allowed to explain myself to A.C. (which I shouldn't have to since I did nothing wrong and he's a complete stranger who I owe nothing to), here's an open statement to him:

First off, I'd like to state that it's none of your business that I have so many different snacks in my car, besides the fact that you were obligated to check my car for open bottles and that nonsense. Let me apologize for needing food at a moment's notice in case my sugar drops. And a sleepover? Really? If I was at a sleepover, wouldn't I still be at the sleepover, considering that it was 1:30 am? That's freakin' prime sleepover action time. Don't be dumb.
And yes, I did have brass knuckles on my shirt, which you clearly could see, so there was no need to ask me twice. You could also very simply see that they were pink. What you could not see was the back of my shirt that said "Keep calm and fight on" with a pink ribbon at the top. Maybe if you had been somewhat of a decent person, you would have let me tell you that the shirt was for breast cancer awareness and the pink brass knuckles were symbolic of the fight against breast cancer, which my sister-in-law is fighting now. So, yeh. Go ahead and make a joke about breast cancer. I double dog dare you, because really, I've had a day full of moron AND I'm PMSing.By the way, you don't know me. That means you don't get to call my boobs "boobs," much less talk about them. That's a term reserved for people who know me and respect me. Learn some manners, you ignorant, double-chinned gorilla. You're an example of the people who give cops a bad name. You're welcome.

She grew wild, wild but innocent

Dude, so guess who's single! Again. Like the majority of the rest of my life. And probably until the day I die in mansion full of cats and feline paraphernalia. But, hey: It's whatever.
I mean, really. Guys are pretty stupid. Like not even stupid. Obtuse. Yes. Obtuse is the perfect way I'd describe males.
So, I know I suck at flirting the typical way: flipping my luxurious hair, fluttering my beautiful eyelashes, being ever so charming and sincere. But, c'mon guys. I'm leaving it up to you to know that my sarcastic insults and arguing is me coming on to you. So what if I belittle nearly everyone I come into contact with. Use your intuition or something. Jeezzzz.
Oh, and if you're going to be hott (yes, I'm bringing back the Double T), you have no right to be bad at conversation and in no way humorous. Seriously. I don't go to the bar to talk about politics, religion, and education. I go to the bar to watch people suck at pool and be critical of everyone that walks through the door. And if you're going to insist on choosing inane talking points, make sure I don't look the least bit uncomfortable with the subject. Hint: If when you're talking about the powerlessness of women in a certain culture and compare it to the religion in which I was raised (which you know nothing about), take notice that I will try to change the subject, and when that doesn't work and I start a conversation with my friend, you should probably start talking to me about how awful you think Randy Jackson is or The Breakfast Club. Just a pointer.
In addition, guys with long term girlfriends need to knock off this constantly trying to get with other girls thing. I don't even have anything to say about that... Except for if you're the girlfriend. You're probably an idiot too (no offense). "Oh, where's Traivaughn tonight? He's not picking up his phone... Oh, maybe he's volunteering at the homeless shelter. I bet that's it. Good thing we've been together for two+ years or I probably wouldn't trust him." Wow.
Also, despite my cold exterior, I'm a real live girl on the inside. Don't flirt with me for a few days and then ignore me for a while. Believe it or not, that doesn't make me happy. That makes me unhappy. And it doesn't give you an air of mystery or whatever you're going for. It gives you a big, fat Access Denied stamp in my Little Black Book of All the Eligible Men in the World. No one wants that.
This isn't even close to being the entire list of why the male gender is dumb. This is what is bothering me currently.
Oh, and I don't like your hair.

Some days the sky's so blue, I feel like I can talk to you.

It's been five years since the world lost an amazing person. It's been five years since I got a text from a friend and thought it was just some awful rumor going around. It's been five years since I went into my worst ever depression and didn't leave bed for nearly a week. Five years since an important person in my life left without ever saying goodbye. I'd like to say that after five years, I've accepted this fact that he's not here anymore. But I can't say that. I wasn't here when he was laid to rest. I couldn't come home to make my peace with it. I thought maybe going to see where it happened would help. I thought going to see his grave would bring me some comfort. I still don't accept it. Somehow I just keep thinking that he's off some place, on some great adventure, and will just come back someday to tell us all how wonderful his trip was.
Dustin was my first major crush. He was an ass to me and a really great friend. We acted like we hated each other but we had inside jokes. During my first awful breakup, my first instinct was to rush to his house and cry. We didn't always get along, but I would have done anything for him and I like to think he'd do the same for me.
I heard his voice today for the first time in five years. I wasn't expecting it and it took me back to a simpler time when I never saw this coming, but instead saw the most wonderful opportunities for him.
I'm afraid one day I'm going to stop thinking about him, my memories won't be as vivid, I won't be able to remember conversations word for word. I used to be reminded of him daily. Today was the first time in a while, only because I looked at the calendar and saw that it was the 17th and I couldn't figure out what significance the day held.
I know I'm not the only victim, definitely not the most affected, so it seems a little selfish of me to be focused on this. My heart goes out to his loved ones and I hope there is comfort in their lives with the faith of seeing him in another world.
Missing you, Dustin Ryan.