Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Seriously, Serial.

I am completely in love with the podcast Serial. Partly, because I like things that everyone else likes, and also because I really, really love cereal. #fruitypebbles

I think it's safe to assume this how our grandparents felt about Matlock? Because every Thursday I need my fix of that sweet-talkin' inmate, who may or may not have killed his ex-girlfriend in a parking lot.

For those of you that have no idea what I'm talking about, Serial is a podcast from the creators of This American Life. It is essentially the story of Adnan Syed and his ex-girlfriend Hae Min Lee, both high school seniors. Hae disappeared on January 13, 1999 and one month later was found dead. Adnan was arrested and has served 15 years of a life sentence for a crime that he insists he did not commit. Each episode of the podcast follows journalist Sarah Koenig, as she tries to get the real story. Read a better and more in-depth description here.

Now of course I like this show. I am a liberal with Weezer glasses who loves farmer's markets. I am NPR's core demographic. But just to clarify, my husband, who would rather chew off his arm than listen to 15 seconds of All Things Considered, loves this shit.

It's like Law and Order but instead of Ice T screaming at me with his crimped ponytail, Sarah Koenig is lulling me into a calm daze while detailing the tragic, life-altering events of a group of popular high schoolers.

I was lame as fuck in high school, so this nonsense would have never happened to me. You can't really get arrested for a crime while you spend all day alternating between masturbating to Dawson's Creek and changing your AOL away message. wHy U gOt 2 go ~N~ mAkE tHingZ sooo comPLicaTeD?

In fact, all I wanted in high school was for some beautiful, exotic boy to love me so much he might try to kill me in a Best Buy parking lot. I mean, fucking swoonville, amirite?

So here I am every Thursday listening to Serial, pants off, eating Lucky Charms, and asking Matt how bad he wants to bang Adnan. The answer is always: super bad and please don't blog about this. whoops.

But here's the problem: this coming Thursday is the last episode of the season--which means the last episode featuring the Adnan/Hae case. And unless the episode begins with, "He's innocent and we're driving him back to his family right now." Or "He's guilty, we found a picture of him wearing his "I Did It" t-shirt." I'm going to lose my whole fucking mind.

I have become too emotionally invested in this. I spend at least 30 minutes after every episode turning into Nancy Drew and googling random legal information, wondering if I could crack this case open my damn self. You mean they never read him his Miranda Rights? Case Closed. Ice T let this man go free.

But seriously, what am I going to do? I'm worried that soon, the smart, funny Sarah Koenig, whose voice is a lovely mix of honey and cigarette smoke, is going to shoot to #2 of my Enemy List (right after that one customer who said I reminded him of Sarah Palin). I'm just going to be on every one of her social media accounts like, "why did you let me love you if you knew it wasn't going to be forever?"

Basically the only thing that will console me if I don't get the answers I need, is NPR literally sending me hundreds of boxes of real cereal.

Then your girl will be like "Adnan, who?" yumyumyumyumyum

Anyone else completely obsessed with this podcast? What will you do Thursday?

Sunday, December 14, 2014

It's Like Rain on Your Wedding Day.

This is the post I've been meaning to write, but absolutely, positively do not want to write. I'd rather do anything else than begin the emotional train wreck that will become this blog post.

Now, I know what at least a couple of people are thinking.


No! That is not what happened. Fuck you, guys. He went through with marrying me. sucker. 

It was beautiful. Small and intimate. My brother married us and we were able to completely surprise his grandparents with our nuptials. We laughed and cried and then laughed at our crying. We were the couple on top of the cake. We were giddy. However shortly after the ceremony, our beloved English Bulldog, Zeus, passed away. It was completely unexpected. The emergency vet told Matt it seemed like Zeus had some sort of underlying respiratory condition that went unnoticed, and the mix warmth and excitement, labored his breathing. It stopped his heart. She assured us it could have happened at any time.

We were devastated. Zeus had been our homie for over five years and we were ridiculously obsessed with him. He was our partner-in-crime and, as silly as it may sound, our furry little kid. 

Despite the horrible circumstances, our friends and family helped us make the best of the remainder of the day--well, them and a little panacea known as alcohol. But as soon as everyone went home, Matt and I were left with the task of dealing with an empty apartment. 

The next couple weeks were taxing, we tried to come to terms with this loss, and the fact that it happened on what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of our relationship. Eleven years we waited to get married, and within 20 minutes of saying "I do", our squishy dog-child was gone. That fucked with me pretty bad, I'm not going to lie.

I wish I could have come back after being away for such a long time and say that everything was perfect, but that just ain't life, baby. As I get older, I'm learning that life will fuck with you sometimes. It will tear you apart, just to prove you're capable of putting yourself back together. And even though I miss Zeus every single day, I can't help but feel lucky that I didn't lose any family. Or friends. Or my husband.

Recently, I saw a picture of someone I know on Facebook. She was sitting on her fiance's grave in her wedding dress. Someone always has it worse.

It's been almost two months since our wedding and Zeusie's passing. Sometimes I'll come home and still expect him to greet me at the door, before being reminded of his absence by the silence in my house. But then again, sometimes I still forget that I'm someone's wife now.

I guess these things just take time.