Doppelganger

FYI- I started this blog ions ago...I'm just getting back to it now.

About four years ago, I started watching a new show that I was confident would never catch on due to its long name. Fortunately, I was wrong, and tonight I watched the season 5 finale of How I Met Your Mother (affectionately referred to as HIMYM). Over the years this show has provided a lot of laughs while still having the ability to get me to think about my life from different perspectives. While I'm not ready to ask, What would Barney do? (a possible future blog post), tonight's episode made me think about my life in a pretty cool way. I'll back up.

This season on HIMYM, the gang encountered doppelgangers of each member of the group. There was "Lesbian Robin," "Stripper Lilly," "Mexican Marshall," and "Robot Wrestling Ted." (We're still waiting for Barney's doppelganger to make an appearance.) At the end of the episode, Ted said something pretty insightful. He told Robin that all of us have doppelgangers, they're just older versions of ourselves. Who we were 5+ years ago was probably someone very different from who we are today. I for one take comfort and delight in this revelation.

Five years ago I was in a relationship that was going nowhere wishing it'd go somewhere. I abandoned principles and values I believed in for him. I'd just been hired for my first real job. I was living at home and was scared to death about what I would do without my friends. Doppelganger Betty had some issues.

Enter Betty of 2010. Thankfully, she's come a long way. The last three years have been spent with a wonderful man who's allowed me to be who I am. Together, we've embraced the faith and beliefs I so easily walked away from. I've seen friends come and go, but a few select kindred spirits have remained by my side. I've learned a lot in the past five years, and I'm happy that I have a doppelganger out there. It's because of her that I get to be me. So thanks, Past Betty. I'll learn from your mistakes and move on so that hopefully Future Betty has a life she loves too.

You can't make me...

I'm not a picky eater. Truly, I'm not. When we were kids, my mom made sure that we were exposed to a wide variety of food. (In fact, I didn't realize how diverse my tastes really were until I met my husband, but his penchant for cheeseburgers and pizza will be left for another blog post.) As a child I LOVED frog legs, lobster, and most vegetables. Friday night, however, I was accused of being a picky eater. Why, you may ask? What is so heinous that I refuse to try it? The answer: White Castle. Let's back up a bit now.

As a child, the only familiarity I had with White Castle was the fact that it sat nestled on its corner of Indianapolis Blvd. and 119th Street in Whiting where I grew up. This White Castle served as a reminder that we were officially leaving Robertsdale and entering Whiting. Its corner was also the site for our family and friends to set up camp for the annual 4th of July parade (a Whiting extravaganza!). So, in my defense, I DO have some warm and fuzzy feelings about White Castle...at least the building.

The first time I was ever even IN a White Castle, I was 17. My boyfriend's mom was bringing a group of us home after a concert, and we stopped to "eat." I did not eat. I had a pop.

The second and LAST time I was in a White Castle was this past Friday night, and it is important that you know it was under duress. I was (essentially) forced to enter this establishment. Before I get ahead of myself, let me explain how this horrific trip came to be.

Friday night started out rather low-key. I came home from work and began getting ready to attend/chaperone Senior Banquet. Before heading off to be sure that no babies were conceived on the dancefloor at senior banquet, I kissed my loving husband good-bye and reminded him that we would be hanging out with the Verpootens after the banquet.

A side note about this year's senior class: I love (most of) them. I really do, but they are the laziest group of kids I've EVER encountered! Since they are a great class, I was actually looking forward to the event. At our school, seniors dress up in costumes for the dinner and dance. This year there were some AMAZING costumes. My favorites included: Waldo from Where's Waldo?, Pee Wee Herman (complete with Schwinn and bowtie!), the Fandango bags, and an array of superheroes.

Sarah and I cocoused and decided that the three of us (she, her husband, and I) would leave the banquet after awards were handed out. While I was happy and proud of all my students who won awards, I was MOST thrilled that our niece, Ashley won for "Best Looking Girl" in the senior class. Michael insists that it's in the Samples genes. I'm hoping! :)

Around 9 o'clock we headed toward Crown Point to pick up Michael. A brief discussion of plans and 45 minutes later we were headed to Frickie's Bowling Alley. Mike and I have only lived in Crown Point for a year or so, thus we were not really sure where one should go bowling on a Friday night at 9:45. Google said Frickie's. Google did NOT say that Frickie's has only eight lanes, all of which look like they were installed in 1965 when the structure was initally built, nor did Google mention that Frickie's/Joe's Pizza is a townie bar.

Despite being so poorly described on Google, Frickie's was good to us. Even though I bowled my worst game EVER, I had a great time. After two games of bowling, we headed to the bar for a drink or two. While there, discussion ensued about organic eating. I'm not really sure HOW this started. More than likely my husband was teasing me about my recent, insane fear of all food chemically engineered/non-organic/non-grass fed/genetically modified. Discussion of such fears led Dustin to ask...why? This lead me to discuss Food, Inc. and Supersize Me (a movie which made MOST people STOP eating McDonald's made my husband hungry). While McDonald's can be a super-sized helping of gross, what is even grosser, someone mentioned, is White Castle. (Mike is convinced that I told him White Castle is made of horse meat...I deny this.)

Now, as previously mentioned in this post, I have NEVER, EVER, EVER eaten White Castle. I have no desire to, yet I do not judge those who partake in the delicacy of Sliders. Upon learning that I had never eaten one of those nasty little burgers, my three companions made it their goal to get me to choke one down. This is how I ended up at a White Castle late on a Friday night with Sarah, Dustin, and Michael. I warn you what came next is hard to stomach.


I indignantly sat down at a table in the deserted establishment as my friends headed to the counter. They placed their orders with a woman who I'm sure was named Bertha the fact that I didn't see her name tag is irrelevant. Some people embody their names...often these names include Bubba, Bertha, and Trixie. My husband was the first to make his way to the table. He clutched his greasy brown bag. As he was unpacking his six tiny cheeseburger, Sarah and Dustin joined us at the table. Dustin had ordered EIGHT mini-burgers of grossness. Once the food was organized on the table, the frenzy began.

If you don't know my friend Sarah, let me fill you in on a little something I've observed about her. She's a normal paced eater. She's never the first one done, nor are we waiting for her to finish at the lunch table. All I knew or thought I knew about Sarah's eating habit/ability was shattered that night. With Bertha busying herself in the back, Dustin and Mike enjoying their "food" next to us, and me staring on in disbelief, Sarah inhaled FIVE White Castle cheeseburgers. Mike and Dustin had five each as well, but honestly, their consumption wasn't nearly as impressive or disturbing.

For all these reasons, that night will forever be burned into my memory for the bowling, for the fun, for the disgusting food, and for the fact that I stood by principles and refused to eat a cheeseburger.

Happy.

Over the past 2 1/2 weeks I have started at least 5 different blog posts. I begin typing, think I'm going somewhere, and end up deleting whatever it is I had. I'm totally uninspired recently. Life has been fairly undramatic (the way I like it), and I have to say, I'm happy for the change. To be fair, I've been surrounded by drama (3 funerals in 8 days, 2 students with MAJOR issues), but Mike and I have been drama-free (pound on the proverbial wood). As much as I've been longingly looking at sweet cherubs asleep in their strollers at the mall or park, Mike and I are just enjoying spending time together.

I'm not asking for drama, but hopefully, I'll have some blog inspiration soon. Until then, you can catch me sipping on a Crystal Light (read: when on Atkin's I don't consume alcohol) on my deck, puppies at my feet and Mike grilling. Life's good. It's good to be really happy. Finally.