Believe it or not, I found that last one while researching something for work.
Also, I love GoT.
Weekend away, people.
|Matt:||maybe i'll go hang out with the Queen??? hmm????|
|Matt:||how funny would that be if I was on the cover of US with Kate and William|
Since beginning to share the news about London, all reactions have been positive, even ecstatic. Most of the conversations go like this:
- "Why aren’t you running the Chicago marathon this year?/Can’t wait to work with you on next year’s shoot./Do you want to do XYZ in September, October, November, etc.?"
- "I’m actually moving to London in August."
- :: Jaw drops to floor :: “Oh my god, that’s so awesome! Did you just decide to go or what’s taking you there?”
- "Matt and I have both wanted to move abroad for years and he just got into London Business School, so we’re finally going!"
At this point most people continue to gush, ask if they can visit, etc. But a few people - all middle-aged males who I know professionally - then ask, “So when is he gonna ask you to marry him?”
I then typically offer a smart retort that we are just fine, thanks, or, “Okay, DAD.” (For the record, my own father has never once brought this up.) But inside, I’m thinking, These guys don’t think Matt is in it for the long haul or These guys think I’m giving up my career to follow a guy to Europe.
Maybe they really do think these things. More likely it’s just insecurity on my part. My least favorite part of sharing that I’m moving to London is telling people why. Because even when they’re not thinking, “She’s following him” I dread being perceived that way. Although I haven’t figured the whole thing out yet, my career is so important to me and anyone who knows me and/or my relationship knows I would never “give it all up” for “some guy”. (As I don’t particularly like my job or industry, I don’t feel like I’m giving much up. And clearly you all know Matt is not “some guy” because I have not stopped talking about him for three years.)
At times like these, and by times like these I mean when you have a bottle of wine + whiskey flowing through your system, it’s good to have a best friend who you can ask things like, “Am I overcompensating to be all I am woman, hear me roar?” and she will remind you things like:
- You know you’re not following him. Matt does too.
- People are inherently jealous. And curious.
- People ask filler questions constantly: When are you getting engaged? When’s the wedding? When are the kids? etc.
- Married people move and change life plans all the god damn time. So what, if you’re his wife it’s okay/no questions? People are dumb.
- Who gives a fuck? You don’t need to get all “I am woman, hear me roar.” You’re moving to London. With Matt. They work with you but in no way affect you or your life goals. Let them think whatever they want.
- Keep your eyes on the prize. You are about to live out a lifelong dream. Matt is just a part of that (a wonderful one) but this would for sure have happened, Matt or no Matt. I have literally no doubt about that.
Then you (metaphorically) smack yourself in the face and realize you haven’t quite mastered not caring what other people think, which is so annoying, because I want to master that more than maybe anything. And then you (metaphorically) hug yourself because how did I get so lucky to have the best friends I have?
Onward and upward, then.
This works really well after the fact too. On days when I eat chips, salsa and Ben & Jerry’s for dinner and can’t be convinced to run 2 measly miles, I remind myself I once did a marathon.
And then I go back to AmeriCone Dreams.
Every time I open a bottle of wine I use the knife blade on the corkscrew to remove the foil and every time, Matt lectures me that I should use the round thingy (see above) because I’m going to cut myself on the knife blade and every time I roll my eyes and continue using the knife blade because that is its ACTUAL PURPOSE and what kind of idiot do I look like and I got through 24 years of opening wine bottles before he came into my life. And I was just thinking about all of this as I was opening a bottle, feeling smug - my actual thought was, “Look who’s opening the wine now, Matt! Guess you’re not so smart after all” - when the knife blade slipped and I cut myself.
In summation, Matt is dumb.
The three best words that can be strung together. They thought my grandma had cancer again and today, on her 79th birthday, she found out it’s just a bad chest infection.
Do you guys know about smoked gouda? I tried it for the first time in March. My life is changed. Run run run.
West of Memphis
Have you heard of the West Memphis 3 case? I never had. This is the best documentary I’ve watched in 2014. I couldn’t tear my eyes away for all 2.5 hours. It’s on Netflix. Go forth.
Where’d You Go, Bernadette
I’ve been reading a lot of “meh” books lately. Nothing’s been hooking me. I read this one in 48 hours. Do it.
Hey, how about you guys all go have a great weekend?