Female Bonding

(holy crap - i have a blog follower!!)

Ahem. Sorry.

This weekend. I am so excited for work to be over and done with. Not for the usual reasons (stupid students, no-show parents scheduled for conferences, passive-aggressive AP), but because I am going out of town - by myself - to a sort of girls-only wildlife retreat.

Now, I know exactly what you're thinking: "Why, Stillie, this is asinine! You don't like people, much less women! How in the WORLD are you going to bunk with one for 2 whole nights? And why would you PAY to take a mini-vacation out in the wilderness with them?!"

Trust me. I asked myself the same exact thing. But there were a few factors that played into this.

1. I'm a member of a wildlife association, and this workshop is sponsored by them and I get a discount for being a member.
2. Many of the people with whom I volunteer over the summer will be there as instructors.
3. This gives me a chance to totally network my ass off, since this workshop is geared towards women who are either landowners or in the wildlife/habitat management industry, and that's where I'm trying to get to.
4. We get to have wine and cheese socials in the evenings.
5. It's being held at a really, really, really nice resort not too far out of my city.
6. It just adds to my knowledge base to (hopefully) help me obtain a position in a completely different field than I am currently drowning in.
7. I get to play. Outdoors. All weekend. And the weather's supposed to be fantastic (no rain, mid-70s all weekend). With no real schedule outside of our classes and workshops.
8. I'm turning off my cell phone. Ditto for the laptop. I'm not even taking the aircard, either.
9. Photography, photography, photography.
10. Fishing!

The thing is, I am really not too big on that whole female bonding thing. I've never really had anyone to debate tampon brands with. When my body finally started outward physical signs of maturity (at fucking 21!), there was no one I could talk to about what the hell was happening to me, and why it was like my body parts were made out of different tectonic plates that were shifting and relocating. But you know what? I figured it out. I made my peace with it. I am now a very loyal Playtex tampon consumer and I figured it out all by myself.

But I'm going into this with an open mind. Perhaps it won't be that bad. I'm pretty sure it won't end up like that scene from "Four Rooms" with the witches in the honeymoon suite or anything, but still...this kinda crap just ain't me.

I guess my biggest reason for wanting to get away is also to think about some things. I really need to get away from The Boy for a few days. I've been quite open about expressing my unhappiness in this relationship over the last few weeks, but he just doesn't seem to care. There hasn't been a single touch of affection in as long as I can remember. So, yeah, things need to change or end, and I have to figure out how to do it. And next weekend I'll be at Enchanted Rock (probably alone, but definitely with photog friends and maybe someone else) so I won't have to worry about him then, either.

I need to stop worrying about Scott. I'm sure y'all have guessed by now that I have not stopped talking to him at all. We're continuing to get to know each other again. We usually text throughout the day, talk in the afternoons, and he 'tucks me in' at bedtime. He tells me how much he loves me a lot (he even told me the other day that he remembered how important that was to me - to hear it often) and he's willing to take our re-acquaintance slowly. But as much as I would like to believe that he would be an answer to all my problems (even if only for a year or so, until he showed his true colors again, since he probably hasn't really changed), I know he can't be. Running away would totally work for a little while but, eventually, things would end with us and I'd have to find a new place to live (no more home ownership, of course), and probably have to come back here to rebuild my shitty-ass SE TX life. While the it could possibly be a move forward, the risk of it ending up badly would put me years behind where I am now. It would be a serious backslide.

Point being, I need to quit worrying about it right now. A weekend to have no contact with Bearers of Testicles may be a good thing. I would like to make myself remember that not everything in my life has to be about love, romance, sex, or men, and that I have enough substance to be enough, regardless of who's hanging on to my arm.