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| Selfie with my new phone. |
Over the last year my cellphone has been turned off. After too many times of starting it and having it freeze up or turn off by itself, I decided to keep it in my car for emergencies. The other day a bale of hay fell off of a truck on US 50, making me about 15 minutes late for work. I was unable to call my boss to let her know. I spent the whole commute trying to shove a battery in my phone so the damned thing would turn on. After about five minutes in the traffic jam and pounding my fist on the back of my phone, I threw it across the front seat of my car and watched it shatter into three large pieces.
"GOOD."
That weekend I picked up a Samsung Galaxy S3 on sale. It's my first touch screen smartphone and I'm in love. I've gotten back into contact with so many people this week. Sometimes it's really heartwarming. Other times it's really annoying to have someone have access to me again. For instance my mom has called me several times this week asking me stupid questions about her new phone (we got the same phone, went shopping together). She'll call me in a panic about megabyte usage and I have to keep telling her, "Chill, we get about 2000mb each per month and you've used about 8mb. Please stop calling me, I'm at work."
"Jenny, I think the phone broke my TV because the cable went out."
"Jenny, I can't remember how to put my phone on Wi-Fi."
"Jenny, a tornado is coming, please don't drive home while it's coming because I'm getting alerts on my phone OH GOD WE'RE GOING TO DIE LOVE YOU."
"Jenny, I figured out how to close all my programs at once!"
Being messaged constantly when my phone dies more quickly can be nerve-wracking, so that hasn't been fun. However today was different.
When I started this blog I was turning 30. I wanted so badly to have an engagement ring for my birthday. I had spent 9 years telling myself I didn't want one because the way my last engagement ended left me humiliated and jaded.
Something about turning 30 and being in a committed relationship with the same person for 9 years made me begin wondering things. We were growing up. His little brother had proposed to his fiance and bought them a house. Most of our friends were married. People were assuming things about me that weren't true, that I wasn't married because I didn't believe in marriage or that I was afraid of commitment. Greg was ready and had been ready for years, had proposed several times only for me not to take him seriously. Why wasn't I ready?
I was ready, but I couldn't figure out the wedding. I didn't know how much money I was prepared to spend. I wasn't sure how the wedding should be or what was expected of me. I wasn't even sure I wanted a wedding when eloping seemed so easy. I just told people I was putting it off until after graduation so I wouldn't have to think about it. However, there I was, about to turn 30 and I wanted my ring.
It took me a while to pick it out, but I got my ring. I was content with that. "Good, we're engaged. I'm fine with that."
Then Greg's job raised his insurance rates 400% with no warning and we had to elope to get him on my insurance right away.
I hated that. I was really happy to marry Greg, I was. Nothing else mattered, not my dress, who was there, having a ring, what to say. Nothing mattered but Greg and I and it was a very tender and sweet moment in my life.
What I hated was that it was rushed, and that I didn't even have time to tell people it was happening, and that there were people I wanted there who obviously weren't there because that's what elopement is.
All this time I couldn't bring myself to tell my dad. For one thing, at that point it had been more than a year since we'd spoken. For another, I think he found out from someone else and I felt embarrassed and upset about that. I wanted to tell him! I didn't want him to already know!
That's really been weighing on me for a good six months.
I picked up my phone this afternoon and noticed I had a new message. I scrolled to my recent calls and notice my dad had called. Without listening to the message I called him, hoping to catch him but got the machine. Left a goofy message and then checked my voicemail.
He was thrilled with the personalized mug. I heard a big smile in his voice and I got so excited that I danced all over the living room.
I love that he can still light up my world just by being him.
I love my dad.
***
I'm not sure what kind of blogger I am. I'm an over 30 woman blogger, but I don't know what that means or where I fit in. I'm married, but I don't think of my identity as someone's wife. I'm not a mommy, and there seems to be a real mommy blogger niche. I have one cat who I am crazy about, but I'm not a crazy cat lady. I'm not all that religious. I do attend church, but it is infrequently and sometimes I think I am an atheist. I don't have any art to share and I'm not famous for anything. For whatever reason, though, people who I think are hot, smart, and flawless in any way are my friends, relatives, readers, and fellow bloggers, and I get to hang out in your club.
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