I was at the mall awhile back and kept meaning to record this moment I witnessed/shared. There was a kiosk of hairstyling products and the employee was curling a woman’s hair to demo the product to her. The woman had dirty blond hair and heavy eyeliner and her eyes were rolled back in their sockets as this other lady curled her hair. She was in pure exstasy. As I watched this moment I felt like I was somehow a part of it. It was such a personal, intimate moment to be witnessing, and there she was, in the middle of a crowded mall, just letting herself revel in the bliss of having her hair done. I smiled then.
People joke with me that the older you get, the less picky you can be. Some of my single friends joke that they'll take what they can get at this point. All of this, is of course, a total front, because the reality is that older people get, the pickier they get. They figure they've waited this long to find that special someone, that the person better be out of this world incredible. So now that I got that into the open, I might as well be quite frank that I also have some very specific and high expectations for my future spouse:
1) He must be a certified massage therapist. Yep, that's right.
The end.
I just got back from getting a massage and I'm telling you, I feel amazing. There is nothing better than walking out of that room all relaxed and pain-free. Well, I'm sure there are better things, but getting a full-body massage from someone who knows what they're doing and isn't afraid to rub out all of that muscle pain is truly one of life's great joys. But it's too expensive, so either I need to get a part-time job dedicated exclusively to regular massage therapy or I just need to marry a massage therapist. The latter is looking more favorable at the moment.
So speaking of work. I love my job. I'm one of those really blessed people who didn't know exactly what they wanted to be when they grew up, but were lead to a great fit that made so much sense they wonder how they didn't think of that on their own. Well, I guess people don't necessarily think, "I'm going to be a safety nerd when I grow up." So that's probably why I didn't think about it then.
At any rate, the other day we were giving out Creamies to high school and middle school kids to entice them to listen to our message about construction safety. As you can guess, they really only wanted the Creamies, especially the 7th graders, so there was one point during our first lunchtime presence that I had a horrifying flashback to the movie Selena. You know the scene where she's singing in Mexico and everyone's so excited because Selena's the bomb diggity, so they start crowding toward the stage to be near her and people are getting trampled. Apparently, free ice cream can have the same effect. You get real popular when you're giving that stuff away. I am a big fan of JLO, but as much as I love her, I don't want to be her, and I certainly didn't want 7th graders trampling each other for a free Creamie. So we resolved that situation immediately and the rest of the schools we visited were much more controlled. Hey, there's always a learning curve.
On a final note, I was thinking about how fun dating used to be when you were 16. I remember repeatedly going with my girlfriend and sneaking into the backyard of my crush's house and throwing rocks at his window. He'd come out and we'd stay up all night talking on his tramp. Now-a-days I don't have the energy nor the desire to stay up all night, ever. Never ever ever. Plus, everything's so serious. If I tried that approach now, the guy would think I was some obsessed crazy person or it would make it all awkward, when really a crush or a bold move isn't a marriage proposal. That's what 16 year olds understand that older people sometimes don't. I daresay the one thing that 16 year olds understand that older people don't. Dating when you're younger was so carefree, so exciting and had such low pressure. Now you go on a first date and wonder if you're getting sized up for a lot more than your bowling skills. Don't get me wrong, I still have fun on dates. But it's definitely a very different experience than it was even freshman and sophomore year of high school. I remember going on motorcycle rides with the guy I liked when I was 19, who looked like Jim Morrison with bad teeth, through the red hills of St. George, holding on tight and feeling the wind on my face and hair--no care in the world and no helmet. Now, I would never ride without a helmet (which I'm proud to say) and I wonder if I'd even hold close.
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