Better Hide the Nachos

Scruffy. That’s the first word that popped into my head when my ex-boyfriend walked into my work earlier. Scruffy.

You, my old friend, are the scruffy looking one.

I haven’t seen him, let alone talked to him, in a time frame of give or take two months. Isn’t that something? To go from good friends to best friends to barely even acquaintances. We can barely say ‘hello’ to each other in passing. What the hell is that? I don’t know what it’s like for him, but I’m not one to get over someone in the snap of my fingers. Especially when we were together for over a year and a half. Is this what happens when couples divorce without kids? They divvy up their stuff, return what isn’t there’s, have their last hug and kiss, and say good-bye? All the laughs, the tears, the moments shared, the I-Love-Yous…just gone. I refuse to believe that deep inside, but when he and I interact like that, it’s hard for me to believe we’ll ever be more than a has-been.

I want to be his friend. I want to be able to stand in the same room as him, laugh at his jokes, share stories, make fun of each other and joke about our time as a couple together, and still be able to talk to each other. We were each other’s best friends for a period of time. We loved each other. I loved him. How do you just drop that like nothing ever happened?

A part of me always will. Not in the same way. But always will.

To add salt to my still healing wound, he can barely stop and say two words to me when he’d concluded his business at my work, but when he runs into a mutual friend of ours (who also works where I do), he can stop and chitchat all he wants. What happened to we’ll still talk? A cop-out answer, I know. I’m not as stupid as he would like himself to believe. I have this thing called intuition, and I’ve gotten very good at listening to it. It was intuition that told me he was acting weird merely hours before he told me over the phone we needed to break up. Called him out on it. He assured me that wasn’t the case. Welp…four hours later I was a hot mess of tears and attempted compromises to try to keep us together.

What a waste of energy. But I loved him. We do crazy things for love.

Make yourself over in the hopes someone will notice...

I’m better off for it. I couldn’t see it then, but I do now. I’m freer in many ways, not just in my dating life. I’m not hanging onto my phone every second of the night, waiting for him to call when he promised he would. I’m not mad at someone every other day because of an insensitive comment. I’ve lost weight because I’m not eating out or ordering in as often. I no longer bear the title of being the ‘responsible’ one between the two of us. I’m better off for it.

I'm a no-smoking zone.

To top things off, when he came around to pick his stuff up from my desk, he mentioned he was out back smoking a cigarette. So…you’re scruffy looking and back to smoking? Oh,…*sigh* good for you, pal. Good for you.

Yet, one of the forever unending dilemmas about love and dating that will never be answered.

“Binge eating was clearly an early female Neanderthal survival trait to ensure that women got enough to eat.”

The high priestess of humor, Emily Prager, brings about an interesting thought.

Do you binge eat on a regular basis? Well, do ya?

If I noticed anything about myself after breaking up with my ex, it was one extreme or the other when it came to food. Either I couldn’t get enough and wanted to consume absolutely everything in sight, or everything I smelled or looked at made me want to puke. Things I used to consider the most heavenly of smells made me search for the nearest restroom so I could empty my stomach (which probably had nothing in it to begin with, so I’d end up dry heaving or throwing up the water I chugged down minutes beforehand.)

Basically what I looked like when on the emotional feeding rampage.

When I did go on a binge eating tirade, no Oreo stood a chance, no jar of salsa left unopened, and anything with cheese on it was a goner. Yeah, breaking up doesn’t look good on me.

Breaking up is not an ideal period of time for anyone. I only dwell on this now because of the unexpected run-in with my ex. I can honestly say I’ve moved on from him, I’m open to dating new people. What I can’t say is that I’m open to a new relationship at this immediate time. I believe I read a statistic in Cosmopolitan magazine a little bit ago stating it takes on average 7 months to truly get over a meaningful relationship with someone. Another article I read said it will take half the time of the relationships entirety to get over the once-significant other. So, in my case, the relationship was one year and eight months long, or 20 months, of my life. In that respect, it will take just under a year to finally be over him, according to the statistics.

I’m on Month 6. By August I should be ready to rumble again. Only time will tell if this holds true.

Putting myself into this photo, I am both of these girls. 'Yay I'm on a date!' and 'Back off.' all at the same time.

I’ve met some very nice guys in the past six months, too. I’ve gone on a few dates, dated New Guy for three months before he turned out to be an asshole in the end, and rekindled a friendship with Deagrok, a past relationship of mine as well. So, good things have come out of this break-up, and maybe one of these gentlemen will turn out to be more than just a friend or great friend in the coming days, weeks, months and years.

Born and bred through the stars.

The hard cold truth is my heart was hurt, and walls have gone up. If there’s anything any ever needs to know about a Cancer, it’s that we are loving to those we care about, but betray that feeling, and we retreat back into our shells where it will take more than gentle coaxing to get us to come back out. How’s that for a metaphor?

It’s out of my hands. All I can do is trust in a greater power that it knows what it’s doing, and it’s guiding me along a path that will eventually cross with my future husband’s, whomever he may be :)

I’m sure you understand me when I say love is sometimes full of contradictions and head-scratching, especially when you get into an argument and in the heat of the moment, you forget what you were actually fighting about.

In order to survive what's around this corner, we will agree to disagree!

One technical definition? Oxymorons. The English language is full of them! No wonder we get confused when we’re wrestling with forming coherent sentences, battling raging emotions, breathing through the anger, and attempting to control our want to grab the nearest plate and hurl it at someone’s head. Ponder these to see if you can make sense out of them:

- Soft rock

Sweet Caroline never felt so good.

- Good grief

It's not good grief without Charlie Brown.

- Act naturally

- Passive aggression

We all say this.

- Working vacation

I pray to God I never do this when I'm away on vacation.

- Sweet sorrow

Parting in such sweet sorrow...But see, it's not sad. They're smiling!

- Safe bet

Can you count on the hand you've been dealt?

- Exact estimate

Some 2,000 orcs came to Helm's Deep...What a number

- Tight slacks

Slacks are not meant to be this tight.

- Plastic glasses

These are a college staple for everyone!

- Pretty ugly

What happens when Barbie fake bakes

- Definite maybe

A decent enough chick flick of a movie.

- Adult children

Kids in adults bodies...never a good thing

- Awfully nice

We've all been in this tough spot.

- Bright shade

Love this color! Especially when I am tanned (the safe way, of course!)

- Random order

In no particular order...here are the Top 5. HA! No particular order, my foot...

- Rush hour

Merrily, we creep along.

So how many of those phrases do you use on a regular basis? I know I use more than half of them. The English language really is screwy, but yet I love it. Why else would I be sitting here typing to you if I didn’t love language in some way, shape or form?

I gotta put my pen to paper to make it through the day.

Or I like hearing my thoughts put onto “paper.” The tried-and-true diary just isn’t hacking it anymore.

Continue to have a blessed day everyone, and take heart in knowing if you haven’t found “the one” quite yet, they are out there somewhere. When it’s time for the two of you to bump into one another, the Force will make it happen.

The Force has a plan. The Force is with you. Always.

Even Pascal is in on the action...

Truth is a Matter of Perspective

Why is everyone I know as of late starting off every conversation with ‘I got a job’?

Everyone is doing the shirtless Dean Portman victory dance.

I’m not just talking any old part-time crapper job here. I’m talking big girl jobs. Jobs I want. Jobs I should be getting my hands on. Jobs I am eligible for. Why am I not getting the job? Why don’t I have a job?

I WANT A BIG GIRL JOB!

I'm after that Big Girl Job swagger.

I know everyone whom I love and trust has assured me the right one will come along for me. That my time will come. Right now, I should think about enjoying my remaining days at the Academy, that my experiences will speak for themselves, that anyone who rejects me would be stupid not to hire me.

Then why am I still here with empty arms?

Pulling all-nighters when I need to.

Knowing myself, I shouldn’t be freaking out about this quite yet. I’m only 23 years old. I shouldn’t have my entire life planned out. The plan never works anyhow. I had a plan for the Acadey.Look where that got me. Before you get your mind all jazzed up about me being the flunker student who drinks and gambles her way through life. That is not me at all. In fact, I’m the student whose friends look at my work and go, “What the hell did you go and do that for? Now I look bad!” I’m the overachiever, the late nighter, the obsessed coffee drinker, the worrier, the one who can be counted on to get the job done…I’m *that* Academy kid.

Can’t say I have a ton friends, but the ones I do have, get me. I was given the compliment the other day of being “full of drive, bright, and ready to take on anything. You can be counted upon.” Okay, so why aren’t these employers seeing this? I’m a good worker! Someone please hire me in a job I won’t want to shoot myself five times a week in the head the moment I step through the door.

This is not me begging. I promise!

Please? Anybody? Really, I am a good worker. Ask any of my references, they’ll tell you.

“I talk about the gods, I am an atheist. But I am an artist too, and therefore a liar. Distrust everything I say. I am telling the truth.”

This sort of backwards talk is exactly how I think employers think sometimes. Thank you, Ursula K. Le Guin, a book world bigwig, for putting the confusion on paper.

I probably wouldn't enjoy talking to her. Too confusing.

Do they want me to speak truthfully. I would mostly hope the answer is yes, but what if you fudge the truth a little bit. Not enough to make your words false, but embellish them a little bit to make yourself seem better than reality. Instead of being someone who answers the phone, can you be called an assistant, for example? You brainstorm the idea for each month’s bulletin board, design the idea, find the materials you need to construct said idea, execute the final plan, and see the project through until the end….could that be designated as an art director of some sort? At least an assistant art director since you’re most likely working underneath someone who needed to approve your idea in the first place?

My bulletin boards are far better.

I may embellish a little bit, but I never, ever condone lying. I will never tell an employer I held a position I never did. For one, it’s easy to get caught. I’ll figure out this job searching thing one of these days. One day, you will see me screaming through the page that I got the job, that I am now a full-time employee of some company. It’s going to happen, and fingers crossed for sooner rather than later.

Soon!! So soon!!

On a different note, it is Hour 12 of being on-campus, and I am not allowed to leave yet. I have an engagement in an hour, and cannot miss it. This coffee I just purchased is going to be my lifesaver. The minute I walk into my apartment, I plan on putting on the last few episodes of New Girl and passing out like no other.

I have a later morning tomorrow, but man. Monday was sort of rough on me, despite the unexpected turn of not having my modern dance class. That allowed me to go and make a spectacular purchase of the anniversary Titanic soundtrack collection. I cannot wait to rip into that casing. My older Titanic soundtrack’s were starting to get pretty beat up anyhow, so it came at an appropriate timing. Have you ever listened to James Horner’s work on this film? Absolutely astounding. He is the wings of my emotional spectrum with this score. I’m not kidding. You’ll travel from absolute elation, to gripping fear, to a falling out of hope, to regaining that hope. Uplifting would be the right word to say at this time. Uplifting. Seriously. Check it out, and I’m not just saying this because I am obsessed with this movie and everything about the actual event in history. It’s an incredible score.

This man speaks to my soul.

My eyes are starting to give out on me, and it’s not even close to my meeting time for my scheduled engagement. This could be a rough 1.5 hours coming up. Or the adrenaline of ‘Get This Done So You Can Go Home’ will kick in and get the job finished. it’s one of my strong points. Working under deadline. Employers have to love that, right?

Except, my notes for the day are stock full.

I have lots of homework coming up, too. I’m looking at my planner, wondering when I’m going to get all this stuff done. In the back of my head, though, I can hear the voice already telling me to calm down. I always get it done, and this time around won’t be any different. Pace myself. Get plenty of sleep. Drink lots of fluids (which I need to get better at), eat somewhat healthfully, and get some sleep. Also, to take a break every once in a while. I tend to get engrossed in a project to the point of shutting out the world, forgetting to eat, or ignoring the fact i need to use the restroom. It gets brutal.

But when you’re in the zone, you’re in the zone! It’s a wonderful feeling…until you come out of it and realize you’re starving, thirsty, and your bladder is on the verge of bursting.

My drug = a deadline.

Hopefully, your Monday was kinder to you than mine was to me. Granted, it could have been far worse than it was. However, along the same lines, the day isn’t over yet, so I should be watching my words. Carefully. But just in case things take a turn for the worse, here’s a little something that will maybe crack a smile across your lips, especially if you’re a dog person. Here we go:

Seven Signs You Need a Dog-Ervention:

1.) You Skype with him while you work.

Meant for human to human interaction.

2.) He has his own Facebook page.

Heeeeeeeere's Fido!

3.) The vet is #1 on your speed dial…your husband is #2.

Quick! I gotta tell Fido the good news....

4.) You bought a king-sized bed so he’d be more comfortable.

I want to crawl into this bed right now.

5.) You keep a photo of the two of you in a “Mommy and Me” frame.

Insert dog photo here.

6.) You ink his paw and make him “sigh” your holiday cards.

Barking with love....Missy.

7.) He drinks filtered water while you drink tap.

Since when do dogs get treated like children, anyway?

Alright, I got to focus here or the next 1.5 hours are going to be rougher than anyone would appreciate.

Case of the Mondays? Grow a beard like Jack Shepard.

Heads up, and forward march! A case of the Mondays is not going to claim me.

Not this day. This day I fight!

Best inspirational speech ever!