It’s a Cubs hat, sure. It fits my head just right with the bill facing forward OR backward, which is no small feat in itself. You might not think that a hat has soul and character, but this one does. Every frayed edge, stain and distressed spot on it has been earned, as opposed to those already-fatigued ball caps you can buy.
I have other ball caps too, but this is MY hat. This hat and I have some history.
I’ve worn it in blizzards and on days in Memphis so hot and humid that I sweat up into the fabric and out on the bill. It’s protected me from the rain, and it’s given me an idiotic tan line across my forehead from wearing it backward too long in the sun. I’ve folded it up and shoved it into my back pocket. I’ve taken it off and used it to carry kittens. I’ve used it to cover my face when I grieved. I pull the bill down extra low when I’m goofing off, making my brother laugh every time I have to cock my head back extra far to see anything. I’ve had a woman threaten to destroy it, and it’s obvious which one is still in my life today. I’ve worn it from the hesitant “Does this make me look like a guy?” phase to the current “Who cares if someone thinks I look like a guy?” phase.
It’s definitely been part of my lifeblood for years. This hat has been with me on moves from Maryland to Tennessee to Ohio to Kentucky to Utah. It’s fallen into the Mississippi River, been to the top of the Sears Tower and traveled to Cape Cod, the Gulf Shore, the Rocky Mountains, Washington D.C., the Pacific Northwest, and let’s not forget that I wore it almost constantly while moving across the country. I’ve camped, played basketball, driven 4-wheelers, hiked, zip-lined and played in the ocean in that thing. It used to be dark blue, and now it’s a blue, gray and purplish mix.
Can a hat be a comfort? Why not. It’s seen me get my degrees, weather a horrible split after a long relationship, welcome nieces and nephews into the world, spend time in the hospital, grieve as I put my dog down, and every other wonderful, intense, sad and crazy moment I’ve experienced in the past several years. It’s a constant, and that is a quality I have grown to truly appreciate. Maybe one day I’ll have to retire this hat, and it will get a nice little eulogy. But in the meantime, I look forward to making more memories with it as my life unfolds.
I haven’t had all the time that I want to write lately. I’m under tremendous stress at work in a job I hate, so when I’m not at work or job hunting (shh), I’m trying to just relax. My personal life is also crazy for other reasons too, not the least of which was a car accident the other day in which some unfortunate soul decided to just ram her car into mine on the freeway.
But! There have been good things, too.
Quality time in the hammock
I saw Jonatha Brooke in concert again!
Want to be an OG on July 4th? Wear a glow necklace and drink apricot hefeweizen. FROM THE BOTTLE.
I saw Brandi Carlile in concert again, too.
I cuddled with a magnum of cava while my friend ... well, anyway.
I’ve had good times with great company this summer, including two amazing concerts, and more fun on the way. Here’s to more fun on the horizon – I need it to retain my sanity! And if you have the chance to see either Jonatha Brooke OR Brandi Carlile this summer, you should certainly do so. Both are amazing artists who make incredible music.
Oh, and the title of this post is from “Of Graves” by another favorite singer, Alexa Wilkinson:
It’s not often that I mind finding myself in a room full of women. In fact, let’s be honest: most times, I quite like it.
But if that gathering is for a bridal or baby shower, count me out. I had to go to a baby shower last weekend, and it was downright painful. I was dreading it the whole time leading up to the event, and I kept telling myself to try to relax – how bad could it be?
The answer: bad. I went primarily to be the wingman for my BFF, G; otherwise, I would’ve politely declined. When G arrived at my place, we did a shot of vodka. We then packed a little road soda of ginger ale + vodka to tide us over (also: calm our fears) until we got to the shower, and I couldn’t have been happier that we employed that strategy. Within ten minutes after arriving, G and I were stealthily texting back and forth, with the messages ranging from “SAVE ME!” to “WTF” to “You have got to be kidding me.” I thanked my lucky stars for that vodka shot and road soady, because without them I may have had some sort of Tourette-ish outburst.
I don’t know exactly what it is that bothers me about baby/bridal showers: the hetero culture of it all, or the fact that it was mostly Mormon women there, or the fact that I am not good at bestowing shallow or fake praise (all those “oohs” and “ahhs” I’m supposed to deliver). I always feel completely out of my element. I’ve attended gay baby showers, but those aren’t really showers – they are PARTIES. I can totally get behind that.
I have been so neglectful of my blog lately. It’s not because I haven’t had anything to say; my time is just at a premium lately. Between work, family and life, I haven’t had much time to sit down and get my thoughts out of my head. It’s not that I think anyone who reads this blog is dying to read them, but if I go too long without writing, all of the other trains of thought in my head start getting muddled. So here’s to keeping all those trains on their tracks.
***
I went shopping last night. Well, I actually ended buying something that wasn’t at all what I’d gone looking for – isn’t that always the way? I’ll write more about the whole thing later, but to my fellow butches and masculine-identifying friends: don’t shop in places where they don’t take care of you. Spend your hard-earned money where employees will respect you and treat you well. My experience was a good one, and it just reminded me of why I shouldn’t put up with anything less than that. Plus I got the kickass shorts I’d been holding out for, so there’s that.
***
It’s the weekend. Well, it is for me. I have tomorrow off, so it’s four days of playing/chilling/enjoying ahead for me. I have some pretty kickass plans, which include a mini-road trip. If you don’t like road trips, I’m not sure we can be friends. I can barely drag my ass out of bed to get to the office, but if I am leaving for a road trip? I’m UP and ready to go. It will be 95 and gorgeous, and seriously – the sun can’t get here soon enough. After the snowstorm last week, I’m even more antsy for the summer to arrive. But this weekend will be filled with sunshine, friends, laughs, pictures, and smiles. All of those things add up to a good time. Work is kind of kicking my ass lately, but I’m feeling more like myself than I have in a long while.
***
My long search for a waffle iron finally ended recently. Okay, the search wasn’t that long – they’re not that hard to find. I just finally got around to doing it. I think I’ve had Belgian waffles four times in the past two weeks. Ridicule me if you like, but those tiny buckets of syrupy goodness are little squares of heaven.
***
Have a great weekend, and don’t forget to take a moment on Monday to be mindful of the men and women who have died for our country. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to mix a cocktail.
I was sitting at the drive-thru window the other night, waiting for the cashier to run my card and hand me my drink. I was screwing around doing who knows what, probably scrolling through my phone, when I heard a “Sir?”
I looked up, and there was the guy, holding my card out to hand it back to me. I took the card and thanked him. He leaned back into the window for a moment, and then returned to hand my drink to me.
“Hey, I’m really sorry I just called you ‘sir.’”
“Don’t sweat it, man.”
“It’s just kind of dark, and your hat is turned backwa-”
“Seriously, it’s not a big deal. I wasn’t offended in the least.”
“Oh, good. Okay.” He paused for a moment and looked at me carefully. “Um, you probably actually liked it, didn’t you?”
I gave him a smirk and said, “Yeah, I actually did.”
“Huh.” He nodded his head slowly and got a big smile on his face. He saluted me and said, “You have a great night, sir!”
We both laughed, and I drove off with a smile of my own.
