Unhinged and Unapologetic

Do you remember back in the 2010’s era when everyone loved to say “This is why we can’t go nice places” or “This is why we can’t take you anywhere” anytime a minor (typically humorous) incident happened? I mean, personally, I still get that comment all the time. But mainly, it was at the height of comedy for people who thought they were funny but most often weren’t. By this, I primarily mean my younger brother. But jokes on him! It turns out I CAN go nice places, and I end up making them even more entertaining. 

I bring this up because of a moment of realization I had last week when I was volunteering at a food bank. Now, this is something I try to do every Tuesday when I get the chance, and this time instead of a hodge podge of random people who wanted to give their time—there was an actual bus of high schoolers who I guess had taken a field trip for the day. They were all in uniform, so despite the fact that I wanted so badly to psychoanalyze who was friends with who, I couldn’t get a good read. There was one girl though who kept looking at me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention. Every time I would turn, she would look away. I couldn’t get a good read on what that was about either. It was 9am on a Tuesday after I had just finished four 14 hour work days in a row. I was wearing a hot dog eating contest t-shirt that one of my old roommates gave me, and I was rocking it with my little brothers old sweatpants from high school. I couldn’t figure out why that was so interesting to her. It was making me a little bitter, to be honest. This whole exchange. Not for the reasons you may be thinking, though! No, I was feeling a little bitter reminiscing on my own high school experience and thinking about what I would do differently, if given the chance. 

I wouldn’t have tried so hard to blend in, wouldn’t have tried so desperately to be “cool girl” rather than the unabashedly unhinged person I am and always have been. But I had a hard enough time fitting in that, the town I grew up in probably wouldn’t have relished in that chaos anyway. It sounds so dumb. I’ve moved past that time in my life, I never thought I would be saddened by it again. But I just had a little trickle of that feeling, the slightest bit of gloom. After we finished packing up all the emergency food boxes, I met up with my friend back in the lobby, made plans for that evening, got in my car and drove home. The palm trees cheered me up, the cacti made me smile, the mountains warmed my heart. Take a breath. Yeah, I’m exactly where I need to be. For the last few months before I moved out of Chicago, I got the age old question—“What are you going to do now? What are your plans after graduation?” You’d think people would ask me something more interesting. A lead in at least, but alas. My constant response was that I’m going to move all of my college life back to my parents house in Missouri. Switch out furniture, spend time with my mom, then head to Phoenix where I shall live out the rest of my days a hermit with my best cat friend. Just kidding! I was moving to Phoenix with my sister for what I called a “year of working sabbatical” where I would “learn how to relax” (a legitimate quote that I would say to people, and they would all nod along as if, yes, I did need to learn how to relax). I spoke with an old friend I was recently reacquainted with and they called it recalibration, and that just felt right to me. Yes, that’s what I was doing. Unfortunately, if you’ve read Ode to Atlas or know me personally, you know that things didn’t go according to plan. I’ve had to recalibrate yet again. 

Well, I’ve lived in the desert for roughly 7 months now and I think I’ve only just started to learn how to relax in the last few weeks? How silly is that? I have a pool and hot tub at my apartment complex and I have yet to use either of them. I walked into a brewery my second week in Phoenix just to day drink and was offered a job on the spot. And I TOOK it. Which ended up being imperative to Atlas’ ER bills and buying a car, but still. Relax? Me? Clearly, I don’t know how. Did you catch that little bit about the car? Yeah, I did that. You can’t see me smirking but I feel really good about it too. Back to the subject! I would go on my weekly hikes with a friend of mine from Chicago (who happened to ironically move to the state the month before I did?); I volunteer every week or so; my sister and her boyfriend introduced me to Cracker Barrel and Chili’s; I go out and about with friends when they visit. I do things, I’m definitely not the hermit I joke about being. But that’s still in addition to those 70 hour work weeks, which feels like the antonym of the words sabbatical and relaxing. This brings me to those plans my friend and I made on our way out from volunteering last Tuesday. 

I met up for happy hour (this is a glorious invention and I love it so dearly) with my Chicago friend at a cute English pub. I won’t get into this story but just note that I ate whole garlic cloves thinking they were grapes? You’re welcome. We met up with the two guy friends at an Irish pub next. Then all galavanted to a different bar next. It was just fun. I was just having fun with my friends! Getting taco bell at 3am and laughing so hard about nothing and everything. Getting home at four in the morning, drunk Sam letting the dog on my bed to snuggle because he’s warm and so cuddly (he is so not supposed to be on the bed). Sleeping for an hour before having to run errands and go to appointments whilst wearing full sweats and my yellow bumblebee wellies? I can’t even get into the intricacies of that full 6 hours, it was just… Yeah. There are at least three people at city hall and a cashier at Circle K who will never forget that morning just because I am so absurd. But also, I’m just like this! Once when I went out with a bunch of coworkers, I was fully sober! I had two shirley temples covered in cotton candy and somehow I was more intoxicated than I would have been with actual alcohol? An employee at the bowling alley actually learned forward and asked if I was drunk and all at once, as if this is something they had to recite at least once a week, all three of the guys I work with just call out “Oh, she’s just like this!” Thanks. Thanks for that. I went back home after all of that hungover debauchery and took a nap. How did I make plans at 3am to go for our weekly hike and actually think I would stick to it? That was wishful thinking on my part. After taking a nap, I did work out though! I actually was incredibly productive and even got multiple chores done before heading out to meet said friends again that night. We ended up deciding to go on a last minute 48 hour vacation to San Diego the following week. Drunkenly booked that nonrefundable AirBnB like you wouldn’t believe!

Now I bet you think I’m going to go into detail about San Diego. But first! Another major event in between the days off with my friends and the mini vacation. My sister and I went to the long awaited Fantasy Ball we’d bought tickets for when we first moved to Arizona. I just want to preface this with the fact that it was a fantasy black tie event. As in, I was in full gown with a train and stilettos (but what else is new). Said “nice place” that my brother says I shouldn’t be allowed at. Except, this was exactly the place I should be at! An actual (accidental) call and response that I had with a near stranger whilst eating dinner: ‘Legolas, what do your elf eyes see?’ ‘They’re taking the hobbits to Isengard!’ Which I later found out has a remix! How cool is that? Anyway, I was well at home with dropping my phone in a giant, wet pile of mud. I was not the only clumsy one there. I also was not the only one able to proclaim the title of the song ‘When Ginny Kissed Harry’ based on only two notes of the song, but I won’t brag about that. I wasn’t the only one who knew the intricacies of various book plot lines. I felt at home, it was really wonderful. I would also like to state that my sister slowly danced with a dragon egg? I am not the only weird sister, my brother clearly had bigger eggs to fry. Pun intended. 

The day directly after this event, I had a full double shift day of work before zipping off into the night to San Diego with my friends! I don’t think I’ve ever had such a perfect beach vacation. It was the perfect length, the perfect company. I forgot my jacket at a restaurant the very first morning we went to breakfast and they only slightly made fun of me. We went to a karaoke bar unintentionally and, of course, I had to go up and sing Eternal Flame by the Bangles. I also… I don’t know why, but I always end up line dancing after a certain time and a certain amount of places? Like, in depth, line dancing. As in, I try to teach the people around me the choreography to the Footloose dance?… I’m like a gremlin. You can’t give me a drink after 1am or I start to line dance. What an odd thing to even mention, I don’t know why I’m like this. For instance—prior to the taco bell the week before, I got inspired to line dance; I went up to the bar and asked the bartender if there was a way to request a song. Obviously, my request would end up being Footloose but he didn’t know that. He tells me there isn’t but instead hands me his own person portable speaker? And disconnects it from his phone so I can connect to it? Me? A random stranger? Well, okay! I go outside back to my friends, choose a grassy area to take my heels off and I just start instructing on the choreography to the Footloose dance… To the absolutely no one in my vicinity. My friend was nearby just watching me and laughing. I ended up teaching random guys from the gas company convention in San Diego how to just dance in general. You’re welcome, random sir. I hope he doesn’t forget because I can’t reteach him. Don’t even get me started on the 3am post-night-out food that trip. Denny’s me is a different me… I don’t know why at one point I was growling like a dog? While simultaneously insisting I was my friends lawyer/representation/human resources advisor to people we had just met that night? Honestly, that’s one impressive resume for a dog-human friend. I don’t know how she snagged me. 

What was my point? Oh, yes. That in the Midwest I can’t go to nice places, I can’t go out in public without being recognized as an oddity (a title I wear very proudly, thank you). In the west, though, I am very much welcomed and appreciated. This bitter feeling that encompassed me for a short hour has no business being in my life. I was who I was and now I am who I am. Thank you random stranger who kept staring at me for helping me to move past that, it’s been years in the making. I spent too long trying to be ‘cool girl’ when all along I’ve been unhinged. And that’s just the way I like it. I would like to clarify that sometimes I can masquerade as a regular human, though! Just putting that out there.