Imperfect Beauty
Friday was supposed to be the highlight of my week.
Like a good highlight. Like a gold medal Olympic highlight; not a fall-on-your-butt-after-every-jump-while-figure-skating kind of highlight.
My sisterpants and I were road-tripping to our state's capital for a night filled with screaming and attractive men playing one of my favorite sports.
We left mid-afternoon with the windows down and the sunroof open. It was a little later that I would have liked to leave, time-wise; but I thought to myself just chill, everything is going to be fine.
{Side note: I have this control-complex in my brain that is really hard to turn off, kind of like an OCD sort of thing. The schedule has to be adhered to; and many times I am so obsessed with 'sticking to the schedule' that it is really hard for me to chill out and enjoy myself.}
On the way, we got caught in some traffic, which is not completely normal, but I was like yeah, okay there is probably an accident on our side of the highway. So I let my little OCD-thing go {or, at least I tried} until I realized that the only reason the traffic was backed up on our side of the highway was because of rubbernecking.
Like really people, I am already on a tight schedule.
Well, it didn't stop there.
It's like, when you are on a tighter schedule to get to the fun, the universe just wants to step in the way.
Carolina Ale House is one of our favorite places to go. We were being wishy-washy at the beginning of the trip as to where we wanted to eat, but ended up deciding that this was the place.
In the spirit of eating a little more healthy lately, I ordered a salad; Alexandra ordered a flatbread from the appetizers menu.
First of all, for us just ordering that, the wait was entirely too long {or maybe the fact that I kept on looking at the clock made it seem that way}.
When the food came out is when the disaster unfolded.
I was appalled that our waitress would even look at the bowl and be okay with bringing it out to me.
Whatever they had stuck in the salad bowl looked like a bunch of random; however, the worst part was, the bowl was entirely dirty - like the kitchen crew had picked up a bowl that had been used ten times without being washed. There was a random piece zucchini on the edge of the bowl with green ranch just chilling on top of it. And my salad didn't even come with ranch dressing.
To be completely 'extra,' I wouldn't have served this to my dog {in a world where dogs liked salads and it didn't make them vomit}.
It didn't stop there.
The manager lady, or whatever you would like to call her, came out and asked me what was wrong and blah blah blah. She asked me if I wanted a free dessert as well; of course I said no 'cause I'm eating a salad because I want to be healthy and really can I just have my food so we can get back on our time schedule in a timely manner.
After the conversation was said and done, I had asked her to just give me what I ordered, in a nice-ish way, of course. Because, at this point, I wasn't completely pissed off, just overly frustrated.
Alexandra finishes up her food and we wait and wait till its like way way way late and Alexandra then asks our waitress when my food is coming out and she gets all big-eyed.
Like wow, that can't be good.
Enter the manager-lady-thing stage right once again and out come words from her mouth that push me from overly frustrated to so-pissed-I-am-on-the-verge-of-tears.
"You and I must have had a miscommunication."
She didn't think I wanted my food because after I had told her that we are kind of rushing, she offered me a whatever-side-salad and I had said no {followed by, please just give me what I ordered}.
Like I couldn't hold the frustration in, and I did my best {like for real, just ask my sister}. So I am like getting up as this lady-person is still talking to me trying to make everything okay, which I am sorry you can no longer do, its all over, your service really sucked butt holes today and I am never coming back bye; Alexandra runs to the bathroom and I am warming up the car trying to not cry 'cause I am so aggravated.
We get to PNC 'on time,' and I get chicken tenders {and fries}.
So much for eating healthy.
But at this point, screw it all.
Hockey. Screaming. Food {finally} and look, my sister is sitting right beside me.
Everything is going to be fine.
So often, my subconscious encourages me to believe that if whatever I am doing is not perfect up to my standards, then what's the point.
But, that's not the point.
Life sucks. There are going to be those 'perfect moments,' but more so often than not, the more you try to make things perfect, the more then ending up not being that way.
On the way home from our perfectly imperfect night, between the blinks of my heavy droopy eyelids, I realized that imperfection is beautiful.
The Canes lost the game, and they lost pretty badly, if I don't say so myself.
But at the end of the day, I had my favorite person in the world sitting next to me with a Skinner jersey on screaming like a wild crazy person, and I got it all on camera.
I was with one of the few people who I can act like a total crazy person while still being 100% sober and instead of giving me a weird face, she just adds to the madness.
I was living in a moment so imperfectly beautiful, and no matter how imperfect all the other moments leading up to this had been, I have my sister, and that is a beautiful thing.
Like a good highlight. Like a gold medal Olympic highlight; not a fall-on-your-butt-after-every-jump-while-figure-skating kind of highlight.
My sisterpants and I were road-tripping to our state's capital for a night filled with screaming and attractive men playing one of my favorite sports.
We left mid-afternoon with the windows down and the sunroof open. It was a little later that I would have liked to leave, time-wise; but I thought to myself just chill, everything is going to be fine.
{Side note: I have this control-complex in my brain that is really hard to turn off, kind of like an OCD sort of thing. The schedule has to be adhered to; and many times I am so obsessed with 'sticking to the schedule' that it is really hard for me to chill out and enjoy myself.}
On the way, we got caught in some traffic, which is not completely normal, but I was like yeah, okay there is probably an accident on our side of the highway. So I let my little OCD-thing go {or, at least I tried} until I realized that the only reason the traffic was backed up on our side of the highway was because of rubbernecking.
Like really people, I am already on a tight schedule.
Well, it didn't stop there.
It's like, when you are on a tighter schedule to get to the fun, the universe just wants to step in the way.
Carolina Ale House is one of our favorite places to go. We were being wishy-washy at the beginning of the trip as to where we wanted to eat, but ended up deciding that this was the place.
In the spirit of eating a little more healthy lately, I ordered a salad; Alexandra ordered a flatbread from the appetizers menu.
First of all, for us just ordering that, the wait was entirely too long {or maybe the fact that I kept on looking at the clock made it seem that way}.
When the food came out is when the disaster unfolded.
I was appalled that our waitress would even look at the bowl and be okay with bringing it out to me.
Whatever they had stuck in the salad bowl looked like a bunch of random; however, the worst part was, the bowl was entirely dirty - like the kitchen crew had picked up a bowl that had been used ten times without being washed. There was a random piece zucchini on the edge of the bowl with green ranch just chilling on top of it. And my salad didn't even come with ranch dressing.
To be completely 'extra,' I wouldn't have served this to my dog {in a world where dogs liked salads and it didn't make them vomit}.
It didn't stop there.
The manager lady, or whatever you would like to call her, came out and asked me what was wrong and blah blah blah. She asked me if I wanted a free dessert as well; of course I said no 'cause I'm eating a salad because I want to be healthy and really can I just have my food so we can get back on our time schedule in a timely manner.
After the conversation was said and done, I had asked her to just give me what I ordered, in a nice-ish way, of course. Because, at this point, I wasn't completely pissed off, just overly frustrated.
Alexandra finishes up her food and we wait and wait till its like way way way late and Alexandra then asks our waitress when my food is coming out and she gets all big-eyed.
Like wow, that can't be good.
Enter the manager-lady-thing stage right once again and out come words from her mouth that push me from overly frustrated to so-pissed-I-am-on-the-verge-of-tears.
"You and I must have had a miscommunication."
She didn't think I wanted my food because after I had told her that we are kind of rushing, she offered me a whatever-side-salad and I had said no {followed by, please just give me what I ordered}.
Like I couldn't hold the frustration in, and I did my best {like for real, just ask my sister}. So I am like getting up as this lady-person is still talking to me trying to make everything okay, which I am sorry you can no longer do, its all over, your service really sucked butt holes today and I am never coming back bye; Alexandra runs to the bathroom and I am warming up the car trying to not cry 'cause I am so aggravated.
We get to PNC 'on time,' and I get chicken tenders {and fries}.
So much for eating healthy.
But at this point, screw it all.
Hockey. Screaming. Food {finally} and look, my sister is sitting right beside me.
Everything is going to be fine.
So often, my subconscious encourages me to believe that if whatever I am doing is not perfect up to my standards, then what's the point.
But, that's not the point.
Life sucks. There are going to be those 'perfect moments,' but more so often than not, the more you try to make things perfect, the more then ending up not being that way.
On the way home from our perfectly imperfect night, between the blinks of my heavy droopy eyelids, I realized that imperfection is beautiful.
The Canes lost the game, and they lost pretty badly, if I don't say so myself.
But at the end of the day, I had my favorite person in the world sitting next to me with a Skinner jersey on screaming like a wild crazy person, and I got it all on camera.
I was with one of the few people who I can act like a total crazy person while still being 100% sober and instead of giving me a weird face, she just adds to the madness.
I was living in a moment so imperfectly beautiful, and no matter how imperfect all the other moments leading up to this had been, I have my sister, and that is a beautiful thing.
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