Charming, but single

Let’s play Guess Charming’s Mental State by the Top 25 songs, by play count, in the only playlist she’s listened to in a month. No really. This is kind of sad and mildly obsessive of me, no?

Enjoy:

“Beautiful Disaster” by Jon McLaughlin
“Shotgun Wedding” by Jason Isbell
“In a Razor Town” by Jason Isbell
“Goddamn Lonely Love” by Drive-By Truckers
“Hurricanes and Hand Grenades” by Jason Isbell
“The Magician” by Jason Isbell
“Dress Blues” by Jason Isbell
“Grown” by Jason Isbell
“Brand New Kind of Actress” by Jason Isbell
“Down in a Hole” by Jason Isbell
“Chicago Promenade” by Jason Isbell
“Apologize” by OneRepublic
“Try” by Jason Isbell
“The Devil Is My Running Mate” by Jason Isbell
“Adam and Eve” by Ani Difranco
“Napoleon” by Ani Difranco
“Slow Dancing In A Burning Room” by John Mayer
“Shameless” by Ani Difranco
“The Old Apartment” by Barenaked Ladies
“Love Song For No One” by John Mayer
“Both Hands (2007 version)” by Ani Difranco
“Untouchable Face” by Ani Difranco
“Angry Any More” by Ani Difranco
“Come Home” by OneRepublic

Life’s been busy – I’ve found plenty of time for unfun things, like working and paying bills and elevating my still-in-cast ankle.

Now, that’s not to say I’ve found no time at all for pleasantries. I’ve seen too many movies (I think four is a lot), mastered my favorite shoe sale (three pair, all lovely, for $55) and spent some time with my family, including my adorable younger cousins, who, as I will write about later, have some serious concerns about me.

Also, I can’t figure it out, but this woman, the one who generally doesn’t have too many chances to boogie in public, has found at least three occasions to dance around like a moron while also wearing a cast boot. The first being the wedding, the second being a Mardi Gras ball, the third being one night when rain dampened the parades and we were forced – forced, y’all – to take refuge in a bar with a few good beers, some food and a band.

Each time I’ve started out tentatively and eventually ended up twirling and spinning along, which was followed by lots of medicine and foot elevating the next morning. It’s a vicious, vicious cycle.

Not that I’d change it at all.

I’ve finally had time to sufficiently rest from and process Best Friend Ever’s wedding this weekend. I’d expected to be sad and sniffly that the woman I’ve so often commiserated with was leaving me all alone in my singleness. And aside from a few tears upon seeing her glide down the aisle, all glamorous and beaming in an ivory gown with the biggest bridal bouquet that I ever did see (and a giggle when her veil got caught on her tiara when her parents tried to remove it), I didn’t feel heartbroken or alone or sad.

I felt a mixture of excitement and relief for my friend. And that’s me being completely, brutally honest – and this may make me a bad person, but I really did think I’d be cynical and bitter, not because I don’t want her to be happy, but because of my own jealously.

I surprised myself, I really did. Because it was ultimately uplifting and reassuring to know that her husband is caring and committed and loving and funny and interesting and warm. I know her past exploits and I wasn’t lying when, after a few cocktails, I danced with him and said, “We really are so happy for you and we know that you’re the right man for her and we all know that she got her a catch.”

Don’t get me wrong – I’m so terribly jealous that my two best buds from high school are married and that my rock from college is engaged. I want what they have. I want the lightness in my step, the gleam in my eye and the arm around my waist. But I don’t resent them for their happiness like I used to. Maybe it is the New Year and growing older and coming to terms with any number of things about myself, but I don’t blame anyone else for me being lonely right now.

But back to her wedding.

At some point in her perfect planning, she just threw up her hands and said, “All that matters is that I’m married at the end of the day.” And this pleased her and calmed her frantic planning and things fell into place and those things that didn’t really didn’t matter anyway.

And I hobbled down the aisle in my cast boot with a groomsman who, ironically, also had a bum foot from surgery. We all danced the night away, I may (ok, I did) give alcohol to a very underage boy who promised me he was 21 and Best Friend Ever’s younger brother, who at age 18 is a freshman in college, looked at me during a dance in a curious tone and said, “You know, I’ve heard some stories about you. I’ve always thought you were her wild friend.”

I half expected him to end the sentence with “Mrs. Robinson.”

I just smiled, narrowed my eyes, motioned to a fellow bridesmaid and high school classmate and said, “If you want wild, dear, you go talk to her.”

I added a Twitter feed in the sidebar. It will update slowly, unfortunately, because WordPress.com doesn’t have a Twitter widget – yet.

I figured that since I failed miserably at Blog 365, I’d try the Twitter. My page is: http://twitter.com/charmingblogger

(Yes, “charming” was already taken and “charmingbutsingle” was too long.)

Note: Two posts today! After this, go read about my latest bridesmaid debacle.

I am renewing my call for single men with season football tickets. If y’all would have tasted the food I cooked for my Championship Viewing Party, you would gladly trade both your love and a ticket.

Olive Cheese Bread and Pan Friend Onion Dip. Both were phenomenal. I made a change or two to each – I added a (very) healthy dose of Tony Chachere’s original seasoning blend to my onions in the dip in the place of the other spices and also used sweet Vidalia onions instead of plain yellow. The spiciness and hint of sweetness in the onions balanced out the creaminess of the dip very well. That said, I’d sub in more sour cream in place of some of the mayonnaise because I found it to be a bit mayo-heavy. With the olive bread, the only things I changed were using mozzarella instead of Monterrey Jack cheese because that’s what the store had. Also, my French bread was a bit soft, so I hollowed out the halves, leaving about a half-inch of bread in the crusts. I filled in the hollowed portion to improve the filling-to-bread ratio.

The best part? I finally successfully caramelized onions for the dip. And as I scooped the soft, brown, spicy sweet onions into a bowl and went to scrub out the pan, I realized that I had a pan primed for perfection and I needed to sear something, anything in this pan. Luckily, I’d seen a reasonably priced piece of sirloin at the store and planned on cooking it this week. So I melted butter and dropped in the lightly seasoned steak. I seared each side, removed the meat to let it rest, deglazed the pan with beer and tossed in a small can of sliced mushrooms. (I was out of fresh.)

Oh man, was it awesome. And as I ate one small piece of rare meat swimming in browned butter mushroom gravy, I thought, “I resolve to cook like this for men within the first three dates. Because the guys I like would just LOVE this meal.” Other bonus: I have two dinners and one lunch because steak is a lot richer than this reformed vegetarian remembers.

So there you have it. Single men with football tickets: I will cook for you.

Also, my beloved Tigers went to the ‘ship and they showed everyone how it is done. Just another of many fond memories that waken in our hearts a tender glow. Today, and everyday, it is great to be an LSU Tiger.

(But seriously, I only have nine months to date my way into next season’s tickets.)