I Burnt a Bridge and I Had to Eat Crow

Here’s a couple of cliches that were damn relevant today “do not burn bridges” and “eating crow.”

Let me paint a little picture for you. Flashback about five months or so with me in the local tile shop standing on one leg with a box of title weighing about a quarter of what I do (alright maybe not that much) balanced on my other knee, while I try to wedge the door open.

Tile guy: “Let me help you with that.”

Me: “I got it. Don’t bother.”

OK, so in my defense, I would ordinarily not treat the local business owners with such disdain, but I was hopping mad and with me emotions are hard to put a lid on. Reason for my madness? Silly really looking back, but it involves an extra box of tile that we had ordered on the assumption that it could be returned if needed. Only to find out when trying to return that it was a special order and could not be returned. I won’t go into the details of the argument; the gist is it was a misunderstanding and fault was on both ends. But me being the stubborn gal I am, I created a scene instead and stubbornly lugged my tile out of there.

So then my boyfriend and I decide, with an extra box of tile and all, that we are going to use the same style for our bathtub, but wait, we are now short a couple of boxes. No way in hell I was going back there so I hit up the Internet, only to find that the shipping charges on two measly boxes would be nearly double the actual costs. Being cheap and stubborn, we refused to pay and now months later still have an unfinished bathroom.

Now back to the present. Today, I set out to call local shops to see if the costs would be lower. Guess where I found the cheapest price from one of very few stores that sell the brand we are looking for? Ahhh yes, you guessed it, the same tile shop I had already sworn off forever. Naturally.

But I could not go in there; I am sure I am a face he would remember. So, being the stubborn, cheap, sneaky lady I am, I ordered over the phone. I did not mention that I was a previous customer, and thought I was doing a good job of sounding like a brand-new one, when he said, “so you still live in _______?” Dammit. Not nearly as slick as I thought I was.

So here’s the moral of the story “do not burn bridges or you might eat crow.”  Cliches or not, a lesson was most certainly learned.

I’ve Chosen My Adventure

The other day at the bookstore, trying extra hard to not buy another Nero Wolfe mystery (I really need to branch out), I happened across a book that was intriguing to say the least. I of course forget the title, but the gist of it was it had 100 some possible endings. It was all about the choices we make in life; I presume it centered on one female character but from there you could go anywhere — get married, go to grad school, backpack across Europe. It was an adult version of the choose your own adventure book.

As a kid I lived for those books; my favorite part (I imagine it’s everyone’s) was reading the additional endings to see how the story changed from my initial choice. This idea of fate and destiny, of being caught up in the past and wondering if you took the right path is so popular in modern culture; it spills over into movies, television shows, mid-life crises; it is everywhere. And I admit I was tempted to grab this book, but I didn’t.

The appeal wasn’t as strong as it once was. I used to be obsessed with the “what if,” the “did I make the right choices” thoughts. But here’s what I am learning, you cannot compare your life to anyone else’s or anything else; it is yours and you made those choices for a reason, because you wanted to, so where you have wound up is where you belong, and if you don’t like it, then you have more changes and choices to make; you can’t go backwards, only forward.

I think it’s this new take on life that has made me really ready to have a child. I feel like I am settled with the path I have taken, and though I know it is far from over, and there is so much more that I want to do, I also know that I don’t want to undo it all either.

As I stood there reading the book jacket, I thought “OK, I can spend hours reading this, dreaming up all of these possible endings, seeing the difference just one little decision could make, but who cares?” That was way more than I wanted to digest in a light-hearted read, and besides I think I’ll continue living my own “choose my own adventure life.” Maybe I can’t climb back into history and try out different scenarios, but the ending is going to be a surprise nonetheless, and I’d rather keep on living then go back in time (I mean for one, I dress so much better these days).

So I set it back down, walked myself over to the mystery section, headed to the S’s and plucked out Black Orchids. Hey, I am who I am and if I’d rather spend some time with Archie than choosing between starting a family or becoming an artist, then I guess that’s just my own adventure.