My Kingdom for A Chick-Fil-A...

I decided this morning at about 2:00 AM (0200), while posting on my Facebook about my craving for Chick-Fil-A,  that I'd go ahead and finally make this blog. I'd been considering it for a while, but in the past I've never been able to stick with these things. I always find them a little pretentious and egotistical. ("Why would anyone want to read about you all day, Fae?") And, in the past, I've had a nasty habit of posting for about a month and then stopping completely. (Which doesn't go well, by the way, when you forget your log-in information and blogspot is so kind as to adamantly insist to NOT help you retrieve said information. Thanks for that, by the way.)
Anyway. Moving back to the topic at hand, my intention with this blog is to catalog my (mis)adventures in my life of my leaps and strides at making my life what I would like it to be.
I started watching I Love Lucy when I was 3 or 4. The old reruns would come on every night while I was lying in bed and I always thought that she was so funny. As I got older I continued watching and was not only amused by Lucille Ball's ridiculous antics, but admired her as well. Even in her scheming, she was an adoring and loving wife and mother and took care of her household but still did so looking elegant and it painted a grand picture of the time. As I continued to delve into movies and television shows about the era I became entranced by the way women of the time took pride in their homes and families. The idea of staying at home, cleaning, cooking, child-rearing and still being there for your man at the end of the day was so incredibly admirable to me that I would dream of my life someday emulating those shows.
Well, the world we live in today isn't quite the same world of the 1950's. Things have changed quite a bit and people don't necessarily hold to the same values or social codes of that time, which is fine, by all means do your own thing, but for me it was still very important to find someone who would understand and share the same values that I held dear.
Boy, did I luck out. I got the sarcastic, mouthy, smart-alek with the biggest heart (though he'd never let you know that) that also happened to want the same lifestyle. Erik is my best friend. We can argue with each other to joke and release frustrations of our day, then just hold each other and know that everything in the world doesn't matter when we're together in that moment.
Okay, okay. Stop gagging.
Neither Erik or I came from traditional families, so don't think that we come from that sort of family and so we want the same. I think the opposite. I think the dysfunction and the differentials are what made us want "normality" (whatever that is) and tradition.
My family is comprised of two families brought together much like the Brady Bunch, with even more kids, believe it or not, and no Alice. Bummer. My dad was married before and brought 3 girls to the family, and my mom was married before as well and brought her 2 boys and 2 girls. I came along much later, but its late and that's a long story that I'll jump into another day. Regardless, after witnessing all of my adult siblings' relationships horrors, I feared marriage because in my mind marriage meant divorce.
Erik's family was pretty normal. It comprised of his parents, his brother and himself. Sometime in his teens, his parents divorced and the effects of the divorce on him made him desire a traditional family life more yet fear the same hurt his parents had experienced.
After our own separate relationships failures, we had both come to a decision that we'd never find love and it was easier to go through life without giving your heart and just giving what you needed to get the attention and affection and gratification of the moment then move on. About two weeks later, we met each other.
Now here's a silly, random, dorky story:  Erik and I both play the massively multiplayer online role-playing game (here-to referred to as mmorpg) World of Warcraft (or WoW for short.)  Six months prior to our separate "hit-it-and-quit-it" oaths to ourselves, we had encountered one another in the game and spoken occasionally. Mostly these conversations were to harass one another. Then Erik stopped playing for a while and since we had only casually spoken anyway, I wasn't concerned. Now, back to two weeks after our oaths to ourselves, I am playing WoW and a friend of mine asks me to go to a raid. (A raid is where, in the game, a set number of players enters a portion of the game separated from other players with the goal to defeat certain bosses and receive loot as a reward.) I resisted for about 20 minutes but finally relented and agreed to go. When I entered the raid, I found that we were awaiting another of his friends to enter. I made a snarky comment about not even wanting to go to the raid and the friend owing me one for it, then heard another voice make a similar comment just as the last player joined the raid. To make an already long story short, after sarcastic remarks to one another throughout the hour-long raid, the sarcastic friend of my friend and I continued to talk afterward and late into the night. We realized around 10:00 AM (1000) that we had been speaking almost 18 hours and needed to sleep. The 18 hours was a mass of deep conversation that, when I thought back on it, I could not seem to comprehend. I had talked with a stranger about things I had not even told my best friend or family. I had given personal information that not even some of my most trusted WoW friends knew, but I felt so comfortable talking to Erik that it felt right. (I knew his name by this point, by the way. He still knew me only as Fae. Until the next night, that is.) I'll end this one here because it's almost 3:30 AM (0330) and I want to make sure I don't write a book as my first post. lol
I'll pick up where I left off tomorrow. <3s for now.


Fae.