Why I Like My Past Despite the Bullshit (Or, “In The End It’s All Perspective.”)

Happy Monday, readers. Hope y’all had fantastic weekends and that the first day back to the grind was manageable at very least (if not, they do have a support group for those who hate Mondays, it’s called “Everybody,” and they meet at the bar (might have stolen that from a witty meme)).

Mia is in rant-y mode so if you’re feeling the angst, this post is for you. HOWEVER–before I get into the meat of this post, I’d like to take a minute to express my undying gratitude for three F-words that make my life infinitely more amazing. Despite all heavily imbued cynicism, I am an optimist (even if I have to actively bring it out some days).
1. My amazing FIANCÉ. Yes, it’s true dear readers. I am beyond happily engaged to Mr. Vega (sorry, Tarantino, I think Mrs. Mia Vega has more of a ring to it than Mrs. Mia Wallace), who surprised the good god damn out of me early Saturday morning by getting down on one knee. The funny thing is, nothing in our paradigm has really shifted, as we’ve many times stated our intentions to be together forever and a day; moreso, the re-definition of our involvement is making the gravity of the good thing we have going much more palpable (and it’s seriously awesome watching the reactions of our friends and families via the wonder of the interwebs). We’re so unbelievably lucky to have each other, and to have defied statistical probability in so many ways. We’re also so in love that it is beyond words. Lucky. So fucking lucky. And SO in love. Not quite sure what graces of the Universe have allowed this to become my existence; however, I am more than grateful for the love of my life and the life we’re going to lead together.
2. The much too shortlived glory of a TV show that was FIREFLY. Particularly, Firefly marathon sessions on the couch with my fiancé. We’ve watched the entire series now (thank-you Netflix) and it’s been lovely us time–nothing better than science fiction and snuggles with my man! Also, Josh Wheadon, for the love of bacon please go through with making season 2. Just pretend the movie was never made and give us all what we’re chomping at the bit to see. You’re WHEADON for chrissakes–buy the damn Space Network and make it happen.
3. The utter awesome that is a good FOOTRUB (given by my fiancé while watching Firefly, natch). I am a spoiled, spoiled girl. And that combination completes my trifecta of awesome F-words. 🙂

Now for some angsty rambles before I drown myself in tea. So. The meat. The chewy part of this post hinges on perspective, of which I have found that the masses are hugely lacking in these days. It’s personally frustrating watching my friends and family forget that they’ve BEEN THROUGH SHIT BEFORE, and end up having a pity party every time more shit happens. Maybe I am just bizarre, but personally I tend to stop and think when I am faced with a shitty situation, recall what I did wrong and what worked the last time I was in a shitty situation, and allow common sense and some cajones to allow me to ride the waves. I simply do not understand what part of forgetting the past and wallowing in the present is conducive to productive, forwards motion. How can you forget what the fuck has made you stronger?!

On the flip side, I get equally frustrated by pity parties held for events that are past. I could easily justify (well, at least by common standards…) wallowing for days about what the KFP or Sunshine put me through. Hell, by the standards of certain folks with whom I spend the majority of my time, there is no logical way I should have ever gotten over them in the first place. I can’t compare what I’ve been through to what any other living person in the world has been through. I have not walked in his, her, their, nor your shoes; therefore, any attempt I make to speculate on the lives of others is merely that–speculation. What I can tell you is that the darkest days of my life would have broken the masses. I can say this with my head held high, just in watching the reactions of others to some relatively benign situations in the past few days. I make the choice to acknowledge that the things that broke me happened. I can’t change that. However, I can change my future by not forgetting the circumstances that were, and working my ass off every second of every minute of every day to make sure that I never land in those depths again. Wallowing brought me NOTHING (except sleepless nights and eating disorder relapses); whereas getting the fuck back up, brushing myself off, and continuing on has gotten me further than I ever thought I would get.

I am being purposefully vague here, as I am still attempting to be sensitive to the feelings of others. That said, sometimes I wish I didn’t care so much so that I could hurt their feelings to help them move forwards. Soon, Mia. Soon you’ll be in the 403, then the 250, and all of this will be but a distant past, too.

Caring too much about people who don’t care enough about themselves is one of my mkajor character flaws. I’m trying to correct it, but it’s hard. I’ve had too many people not give a flying fuck about me in the past…I suppose in some twisted way, it has made me care too much about my friends and family sometimes. I guess it just seems so common sense to me–that life is bullshit, largely–that I get annoyed by those who haven’t seemed to figure it out yet and lose perspective on what is worth putting time and energy into. You got through a bad relationship? That sucks. But doesn’t ignoring the good one you’re in now suck more?

…I can actually feel my heartrate regulating as I get this off my chest. There’s a lot I just don’t say anymore because I know my words largely fall upon deaf ears. Call me conceited…but I’m just smarter than most. It isn’t ego. It’s fact.

Okay, okay. Maybe a little ego in there too. Sometimes I gotta stroke it too hehehe.

Regardless, it’s one of the things for which I am the most grateful for my Vega. We’re pretty well an even match in every aspect (he’s smarter than me, I maintain; however, I’ll concede to his semantics and agree that we are equivalent in intelligence, just in different disciplines), and it is such a breath of fresh air to me, having found my love in life–with whom I can be truly, brutally honest, and with whom I have to filter myself absolutely NEVER. He ain’t perfect (and neither am I), but he’s perfect for ME.

And on that note, I am going to call this a post, make a cuppa tea and some popcorn, and enjoy watching “Serenity” with my FIANCÉ. Still can’t fully wrap my head around how amazing it is to be able to call the love of my life my FIANCÉ (insert happy as fuck dance riiiight here). Frustrated as life might make me, nothing really seems so bad since he waltzed his way into my existence. It’s all just a matter of picking my battles wisely for the next few weeks, and then 403, and then 250, and then happily ever after. With my Vega and his Wallace and his wonderful pooch in tow.

For now,

Wallace, out

 

Redefinition, Winning at Life, and EPIC HAPPINESS (Or, “The Shit Rom Com Writers Wish They Could Come Up With”)

Greetings, Blogosphere. I hope you’re all having fabulous weekends! I am currently in the kitchen next to Mr. Vega drinking coffee and revelling in ultimate happiness. I have a ridiculous smile on my face (Mr. Vega does too), and some amazing news.

Are you ready for this one, readers? I suggest that you free your hands of any hot bevvys, children, or fragile items. You’ve been warned…

Mr. Vega proposed to me on Saturday morning—and I said yes!

I have never in my life been happier or more certain of anything. You’re all probably chomping at the bit wondering how he pulled this one off, so here’s how this one played out:

We had been up all night talking (we have the most epic conversations, one of the things I love the most about our relationship is the capacity we have to converse on a level plane. He’s brilliant, and we’ve many, many times spent the whole evening talking about any and everything) and drinking tea, and upon coming back inside from a cigarette break, I turned to the stove to make another cuppa tea for the two of us. Vega looked at me with a gigantic grin on his face and said, “I’m going to do this, even though I never thought I would be doing this,” dropped to one knee, grabbed my hand, and started to tear up. There was probably a good five minutes of us looking at each other in shock and some unbelievably adorable words spoken about how much we love each other, and then…

…then he tried to get the 4 words that were hanging in the air out of his mouth and couldn’t (which was supremely adorable beyond anything I’ve ever witnessed), so he grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, wrote it out, and I said yes and started crying, then he asked me verbally, and I said yes again, and then we were both smiling ear to ear and bawling and revelling in the fact that our paradigm, while not necessarily shifted, had been wholly redefined. We’ve said it dozens upon dozens of times, that we’ll spend the rest of our lives together, but it’s slightly insane how the conventional definition of things has made the gravity of things so much more…present. We are over the moon with the situation, and it really wouldn’t be Vega and Wallace if this wasn’t slightly insane and totally defying all generally accepted social norms. Whirlwind? Yes. “Too soon”? FUCK NO. This feels totally, strangely right, and I am the luckiest woman on the face of the Earth for having defied all statistical probability and having stumbled upon the love of my life in such a truly ridiculous manner.

We are absolutely stoked to have taken this step, and we’re overwhelmed at the kind words and unbelievable support we’ve received thus far. Mama Vega has been beyond sweet, and our friends have been a pretty respectable mixture of shocked and excited for us.

The truth of the matter is that quite frankly; nothing has changed for Vega and I–we’ve said this before–however, getting to say I have a fiance is pretty overwhelming. Overwhelmingly amazingly awesomely grand.

I’m going to cut this post off here and go spend time with my mister… 🙂

for now,

Wallace, out.