Here’s the honest to God truth: When I get home at night, I am beyond tired and the last possible thing I’m wanting to do is stare at another computer screen for around 2-3 hours, which is typically the amount of time it takes me to write a blog posting with graphics and all. Either I’m incredibly slow, or just want to take my time and make sure I’m saying what I want to say (although sometimes, that’s not the case either…I tend to blather on and on and on.)
Another hard truth? I’m leaving for home tomorrow for Christmas. I’ll be gone, away from all reasonable internet access for 7-8 days, which means I won’t have the means in which to write on here anyways. Sure, I can open a new word document and type away as if I were typing on here, but that would defeat the purpose. So, the reasonable solution? To take a break….ride out the rest of 2012, and start with a renewed energy in 2013.
Which is what I plan to do.
Even as I type to you now, I’m feeling sick and sleepy and as if my eyeballs will roll back into their sockets any time. I’m just not firing on all cylinders on this fine day of the impending world-ending apocalypse. I feel like death right now, and still have my 2nd job to work tonight. C’est la vie. They always said the wicked never get to sleep. Once work is adjourned, I’ll head home, pack my duffel with a week’s worth of sock, jeans, and sweaters. Hit the sleeping pillows, and awake with all intentions of loading up the car, getting some remarkably cheap-as-of-late (and hopefully it continues to be that way!) gas, and I’m on the road for 3 hours singing my heart out to Josh Groban and Mercy Me.
I really love the holidays.
I just hope I’m not feeling like this or I’m going to fall asleep behind the wheel, and I’m most certainly NOT missing Christmas. I love it all. I can’t wait for lasagna and Moscato on Christmas Eve. I can’t wait for stockings on Christmas morning (yes, I may be considered to be too old for this but I really don’t care. I’m always going to be a kid at heart!) I can’t wait for cheesy vegetable hot dish for Christmas dinner. I can’t wait for slushes Christmas night when we usually get cozy on the couch and watch a new movie. I miss family, and cannot wait to see them.
If the time since I graduated from the Academy has proven anything to me, it’s that I’m a family girl. Those I consider family always come first, and I can’t stand to be away from them for too long. A part of me physically hurts when I haven’t seen or spoken to someone in too long of a time. Don’t even talk about saying good-bye to them. Choked up throat, pig penguin tears….just a hot, hot mess.
Writing, planning, and reading are the big goals for this short, but truthfully needed, holiday break. One thing I’ll be planning? How to bring this blog back to its original intention. More so, how to bring its original intent back to the forefront. It’s about a Modern Jedi in a Modern World. This was not meant to be a release for my bitching and all that is non-Jedi. Granted, the two do intersect sometimes, but there were too many instances of bitching for bitching’s sake.
So, planning. How I’m going to go about do that. That’s what this week is all about. And eating. Lots and lots of eating.
Be safe out there, and be very merry this Christmas season. Enjoy your family and friends, and never forget to be thankful for all the good things going for you this holiday season. There are more than you think. Merry Christmas, and we’ll see you in the New Year of 2013!
The thought is simple, really. Why do certain people in one’s life have to be such major pains in my ass? This turns into the second part of a long equation. Part 2: Why can’t anyone accept the blame that is their own? Why must we pass it on to others, and all the while, make them feel awful and terrible 5x more than they already need to?
It basically makes me feel like I’m hung over all the time when people act like this.
An impressive question to ask this bright and beautiful first day of December, but something that kept me awake a portion of the night. I don’t remember the last night I actually slept like a little itty-bitty baby. There are too many thoughts swirling around this skull of mine! Real-world problems, personal issues, creative road bumps, family concerns, all of that and more. There is never a moment of silence with this brain of mine.
Too easy to avoid putting the pen to paper. Seriously
Jedi Lesson #45 (or something like that…It’s a core lesson every Jedi starts to learn from day one): Learn to quiet your mind and hear the Force speaking to you.
Sounds so easy, right? “Quiet your mind and listen.” Except its much harder than that. Meditation, zoning out, letting a higher spirit talk to you. It all sounds so simple…but have you actually tried it?
So not as easy as it looks. If you’ve ever watched “Eat Pray Love:, there’s the a part where Julia Roberts talks about how she can’t quiet her mind…that’s what is it like EXACTLY.
This might explain why I’ve been having such wacky dreams as of late. I’m serious! Just last night? Let me tell you all about it:
“Once again, I find myself in the White House (Am I on a powerful struggle as of late? Why else would I keep placing myself in such a significant place of residence?)except this time, my hair is slicked back in a sleek ponytail, carrying a briefcase, and holding a pack of Bubble-Yum Gum in my hand. The floors are made of hardwood and went I’m sliding around on them with bare feet, and I don’t think my toenails are painted any particular color. Nude, maybe. (Who walks around the White House in bare feet and no nail polish? Yikes.)
Not allowed…unless you’re under the age of 10 and living in the White House.
Next thing you know, a child or two bursts through the door behind me, and I’m telling at them to slow down or no dessert for dinner (Yet, I don’t believe I am their mother…Glorified babysitter? I really don’t know.)My cell phone rings, and I’m being alerted my presence is needed in the conference room. Immediately. With the gum still clutched in my hand, I turn around and sprint down the hallway (I’m not talking a fast-paced walk…I’m full-out sprinting, yelling at people to get the f*ck out of my way or I’ll personally have them killed.)
They would have gotten the hell out of my way if I was riding the Batman motorcycle.
I get to the conference room and a large group has gathered. No one has a pleasant look on their face. Very stern, very strict. (Whatever the heck is going on, it’s not good.) Next thing, someone has brought up a PowerPoint (does the White House actually use PowerPoint in their highly top-secret meetings?) and there’s a giant picture of a meteor on it. A larger than the state of Texas meteor is headed towards the United States, and supposedly I’m the one holding the solution to this giant crisis. (Sounds a lot like Armageddon, I know, but I have not watched that movie in months…so where this is coming from is beyond me!)
Apparently, I’m a problem solving genius.
Someone from the front of the room near the projector screen calls out my name, and asks me to present. I push my way through the crowd, land my briefcase on the table, open and pull out three different Barbie Dolls. No one acts like this is strange, or widely inappropriate given the graveness of the situation.(They are Nurse Barbie, Holiday Barbie, and Rock Star Barbie, in case you were wondering.) I set them on the table, and proceed to reenact my solution using the Barbie dolls. What I said or what my plan was, I couldn’t tell you. (I think I was distracted by the fact I was demonstrating a solution to this world ending problem using Barbie dolls. Wouldn’t you be?!)
The solution to our epic problem.
I finish my presentation, and my phone rings. I answer it, throwing up a ‘Hold On a Minute’ finger to the speaker who called on me in the first place, and I’m off sprinting again. My mission this time? To pick up four different kinds of pizzas for a birthday party happening on the other side of the White House. I packed up my Barbie’s, and ran out the door. I’m still barefoot, by the way.“
Yeah….it still makes me feel like I’m speaking alien when I try to decipher my dreams to others.
Pretty strange, right? I’m going to have fun deciphering this one later. I wonder what Holiday Barbie means to Freud.
“I have terrible short-term memory loss, which I like to think of as presidential eligibility.”
Paula Poundstone, the comedy circuit staple, has a point here. If I keep having dreams located in the White House, I’ll be just as qualified to run this country as George W. Bush. (Come on, think about it…Was he really qualified to be Commander-in-Chief? I think not.)
Clearly, she doesn’t know what to make of it, either.
I have felt like death for the past 12 hours, and it’s not because I’ve been drinking.
Damn you, cramps!
Well, I was drinking, but not to the point where I am throwing my guts up in the morning. My female body as turned against me as it is that special time of the month. I HATE this time of the month. Plus I’ve been wearing the same pair of socks for almost 36 hours, and my feet are starting to hate me as much as my lower abdomen is. I haven’t been able to bring myself into the bathroom quite yet, either, so my mouth is tasting rather funky still.
To-do list #9: brush teeth
The joys of beings an awesome lady!(Are you grossed out yet?)
My thoughts exactly.
Yesterday I had brunch with a group of ladies I used to work with and it was a melancholy reason why we were getting together to share memories and have a few laughs. One of our past coworkers, someone who was my direct manager, is dying. Breast cancer decided to take it toll on her, and there was a brief amount of time where we thought it had all been beat. We weren’t so lucky. It’s now spread into her brain and spine, and doctors are giving her from a few weeks to a few months to live. Chills still wrack my body thinking about this sudden mark of death. Less than three months ago, she was walking around our office, a big smile on her face, saying ‘Aloha’ to everyone while bringing us a granola parfait because she knew how many of us are awful at eating a good breakfast in the morning.
I wish it was this sort of brunch.
Why her? Why someone like her? It’s a question we’ll never have an answer to, and it makes me incredibly sad knowing I’ll open my email one morning, and there will be the final email telling us all the bad news. I’m not looking forward to that moment.
You don’t realize how much someone as affected your life until they are gone. Such a sad reality of life, but so so true. She’s taught me a lot over the years, and she’s seen me grow from an awkward Academy freshman to s confident, ready – to -take-on -the – world super senior. There’s another teacher about life i will greatly miss, and his name is Mr. Feeny.
Big man on campus!
“I’m not a witch.”
Christine O’ Donnell, a Tea Party politician, speaks the words many woman must feel like proclaiming when they are being attacked for expressing beliefs that make sense to dozens of other people. I’m sure Feeny himself had this thought run through his head a million and a half times as student complain and hate his guts.
What do you know, a pretty politician!
There are a handful of lessons Mr. Feeny has taught us throughout the years, and I’m sure my supervisor only capitalized off of them the longer I worked with her. I’m sure you’ve all had a mentor, or more than one, at some point in your life, and they’ll touch on a variety of things that will stay with you long after you and they part ways.
Here is what I have learned from several greats in my short lifetime — and I’m sure there are plenty more to come.
1.) What a true hero is: “But, to me, a real hero is someone who does the right thing when the right things isn’t the easy thing to do.”
2.) Take risks: “Sometimes a sure thing is not the best thing.”
3.) Be yourself: “If you let people’s perception of you dictate your behavior, you will never grow as a person.”
4.) Don’t worry about what other people think: “Unfortunately, we live in a society where they tell us we have to look a certain way, so we’re all under pressure to live up to unrealistic expectations.”
5.) Life is crazy: “We live in a random and chaotic universe.”
6.) Technology should benefit you, not distract you: “Gutenberg’s generation thirsted for a new book every six months! Your generation gets a new web page every six seconds. And how do you use this technology? To try and beat King Koopa, and rescue the princess. Shame on you. You deserve what you get.”
7.) Family can be anyone: “You don’t have to be blood to be family.“
8.) All about love: “There is no greater aspiration than to have love in our live.“
9.) What friendship is: “Friendship, for example, is a real gift. It’s given with no expectations and no gratitude is needed, not between real friends.”
10.) You can change the world: “See, it’s not enough to leave school and just desire to succeed in this cold, cruel world. Because then you’ve simply become a part of it. You must also have the desire to change it. And to change it, you’ll need your fine mind, and his good heart.”
11.) That the things you hate the most might just be the things that mean the most: “Sometimes the things we complain about most are things you care about most. Unfortunately, we don’t always know that until it’s too late.”
12.) Do good: “Believe in yourselves, dream, try. Do good.”
13.) And finally, a megaphone always makes you important:
My prayers and thoughts are with my supervisor more and more each day, and I send out a wash of prayers to those who have suffered or who are suffering through this same fate. To put it bluntly, it sucks and it’s not going to be better for some time.
Ode to he who will become my future mate, my other half, the Han to my Solo. This is for him (whomever HE may be):
The only pair of coffee mugs I will ever need.
Let’s get something straight right off the bat. I’m not perfect. Neither are you. So now that we have that cleared from the air, you need to understand just how awesome I am and how awesome I’m going to treat you because of who you are.
Who are you, you might ask? You are my other self. You are me possibly in male form. You are what romantics call my soul mate. Was it love at first sight? I surely hope so, but at this point in time, until I have the ring on my finger and I’m telling some handsome devil ‘I do,’ I don’t know who “you” are exactly yet.
One day I will scream this from rooftops.
Still…I know how wonderfully I’m going to treat you.
I’m assuming he’s going to love books as much as I do.
Pizza, beer and football? You got it. The occasional surprise shower buddy? I’m all over it. Letting you have your guys night? Me and my girls have a few place to head ourselves.
Every Sunday will be a feast to behold.
Tell me your favorite meal. I’ll cook it at least once a month, just the way you like it. Every time I go shopping, I always keep a sharp eye for that certain color that brings out the color in your eyes that I love so much, and when I find the perfectly colored shirt, you better know I’m going to bring home to you. I want my honey looking good!
Don’t be surprised if I wear it more often than you do.
As can be expected, if I’m treating you this wonderfully all the time, the favor is expected to be returned.
Breakfast in bed is always a winner.
Another thing to clear from the air? I have high standards. Having high standards can sometimes mean I’m pushy, slightly hysterical, and nit-picky about the tiniest of details. If you don’t notice my hair cut, new dress, or kiss me every once in a while just because, I’m going to notice and probably get a touch upset over it.
I may cry. I might yell. I might swear up and down I’m going to end everything between the moment you step out that door. It’s possible I might call you 95 times in order to make sure everything is okay between us after a major fight.
We got into a fight, and now…I just don’t know…
However, I will never go to bed angry at you. Even if I am angry at you when I roll over to close my eyes, I’ll still kiss you good night and tell you how much I love you. I’ll still pour you juice in the morning, and pick up a copy of your favorite magazine when I know you have nothing planned for you Sunday afternoon.
“That’s what I love you for: your inability to perceive all my hideous flaws.”
I couldn’t sum it up any better than Audrey Niffenegger, novelist, in The Time Traveler’s Wife, already has.
Have you read The Time Traveler’s Wife? Stop reading this and go to Barnes and Noble right now!
The point is, I will love you through everything. I can only hope and pray that you’ll love me through it all too; the serious and the silly. The Star Wars marathons, the endless nights where I struggle to figure out the next plot point my one of my many novel plots, the menstrual cycle induced ice cream binges. Real down and dirty fights, the ups and downs of trying to get pregnant, temptation from others (let’s face it, we’re both going to be amazingly good-looking), losing the baby weight, keeping our love life spicy, and growing old together without breaking a hip.
Through it all, baby.
I want it all. As Noah said in The Notebook, “Well that’s what we do, we fight… You tell me when I am being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you are a pain in the ass. Which you are, 99% of the time. I’m not afraid to hurt your feelings. You have like a 2 second rebound rate, then you’re back doing the next pain-in-the-ass thing.“
Cuz there will be plenty of moments like this, too.
I imagine that’s exactly how we’ll be, and I don’t want it any other way.
And ones like this…
Ode to my future mate, my husband, my lover, my best friend: I will love you to the ends of the earth and back.
It’s my 200th post, and it comes with a fair warning: I shall be MIA again for a stretch of days here, and for good reason.
The long-awaited wedding day is almost finally upon us, and I shall be packing up my car with all the wedding goodies I have crafted, collected and bought over the past 10 months. The sweat, the tears, the blood, the giggles, the hot-glued fingers, the technological head poundings…it’s all been worth it. The dieting and crazy exercising (which I have failed to do in the last week because of how busy I have been with wedding plans…how ironic is that?) not such a big deal now.
All the work, and look at how pretty is all fits together!
I can’t believe it…The wedding is finally HERE! So, I’ll be hitting the highway tonight where I will have access to a hot glue gun and I’ll be finishing the card box. It look so elegant with its black base and sangria colored ribbons. Add on a few sparkling gems and pearls, and a couple of corner bows and it’s going to be beautiful. I’m very proud of my crafters’ work with this card box.
I could really use a sangria right about now. Calm my nerves down.
Friday morning will see us at the reception hall decorating for the Big Day. Then, we have the grand march rehearsal, and I need to warm my voice up immensely. It’ll be the first time the music and I have actually done this together. Then, the rehearsal dinner where we all laugh and embrace the fact that my sister will no longer be a single lady in society.
To being the mere single one in my family. Huzz-ah!
It is the night I embrace the fact I am the last woman in my family to carry on the original female last name for our family. It’s a great burden to bear, but I think I can handle it well.
We shall not stay up too late on Friday as we have hair appointments bright and early on Saturday! Don’t forget to back the button down shirts, ladies. No pulling a shirt up and over that professionally done hair-do. Then, make-up and nails, and off to the church to get dressed. The dresses are one-shouldered and absolutely gorgeous. I have such an hourglass figure, it’s insane.
I wish I had enough hair to do this.
The remaining time will be spent praying I don’t trip as I walk up the aisle, and I remember all my cues. Plus, I need to make sure that my handwriting is legible…I had a marriage certificate to sign
“If you survive long enough, you’re revered — rather like an old building.”
Well, I hope my awesomeness at being Maid of Honor is what survives for years to come. The no-nonsense icon, Katherine Hepburn, is someone I won’t be forgetting any time soon. She made those pantsuits look damn good in a time when I woman was supposed to be feminine and flowy in her skirts.
Feel her power radiate off the screen.
While I do love my skirts and dresses, I also have a fondness for pants. There are days where a power suit is absolutely needed.
Screams respect, that’s all I’m saying.
Anyways, I do need to get going. I’m not entirely done packing for what is bound to be a whirlwind of a weekend, but I am more than pumped for it! My entire family, my best friend, dancing, pretty dresses and girlish indulgences.
If this happens, I wouldn’t be objective to it.
A wedding is meant to be a once in a lifetime experience. If my sister is only getting married once, I’m going to party like it’s the last night I’m alive.
Only once.
Watch out Dance Floor! This Jedi is coming to liven up the night!
The moves are coming out!
But before I do that, I should probably write that Maid of Honor speech
Nostalgia. So many feelings came rushing back to me in the course of an afternoon, I don’t know where to begin. It was an afternoon of observations. Observations of interest, some of my own intellectual notice, and some are just plain silly thoughts.
Spend a moment or two inside my head…
“Saying that men talk about baseball in order to avoid talking about their feelings is the same as saying that women talk about their feelings in order to avoid talking about baseball.”
So here’s the deal then, Deborah Tannen, one who has taken to demystifying the mother tongue. I need someone to talk to about my feelings.
Quite an intelligent woman
Prepare yourself: My mind is about to be unleashed…
Here the thought bubbles come…
Back in high school. Remember freaking high school? I was named Most Spirited during my senior year. Decked out in red, white and blue, and now I’m decking out in maroon and gold. But what do I miss most about heading to the football games? A football cheering buddy. Someone who high-fivedme, yelled at me when I was cheering too close to their ear, and someone who poked me in the shoulder whenever they caught sight of a nice pair of buns in tight football pants.
The more outrageous the outfit, the better the spirit!
No way in hell would I go back to high school. Too many raging hormones in myself and in every one else. Literally. High schoolers, especially high school girls, are bat shit crazy. I used to be one of those bat shit crazy girls.
Mean Girls. Enough said.
I went all during high school without a boyfriend. Well, that’s not true. Me and the smartest boy in class were a couple for a while there. Then. I headed off to Australia for three weeks over the summer, and I came back and blatantly didn’t know where we stood. Neither did he. So what did we do? We ignored each other. Bam. No boyfriend for me. Did I really care at the time? Hell no! I was a freak of nature who had big dreams of being a Hollywood starlet by 18. I had bigger things to worry about.
I have some reading to do.
My unfulfilled dream? I always wanted to date an athlete. To wear his jersey, to cheer him on during each and every game, maybe share a celebratory kiss after their glorious win. Pointing to the Jumbotron, and screaming, “That’s my boyfriend!” Mostly, I just wanted to wear his jersey during game days. I don’t need to tell you how good I look in a football jersey. Throw in an awesome, messy up-do and I am rocking the athletic look.
He can be an Olympic athlete. That’d be fine by me.
I miss sports. Being a part of a team, and still being my own self. Bringing my own flair and charm to the court, and letting out my rage. Seriously, I miss dominating on the tennis court. The self-hating attitude when I didn’t run fast enough? Not so much. However, I sure had nice, lean legs from all those sprints…
Bring on the timed sprinting drills.
There was a kid practicing parallel parking in the lot next to where my car happened to be. I stood there and recalled my days of practicing the same thing, except with hay bales my dad set up for me in our front yard. The advantages of living on a farm. An overabundance of hay bales.
Literally everywhere you look.
You know what else I miss? Showing cattle at the county fair. Getting up at 4 am to wash my cattle sucked since they only ever had freezing cold water for us to use, but the early morning nap I’d reward myself with after everyone was fed and settling into fresh bedding was worth it.
It’s always 20x warmer sleeping next to your show cow on a chilly evening
I always feel more beautiful whenever I set my feet back on the farm ground. When I feel more beautiful, I feel like I can conquer the world. Thanks to two special bartenders last night (you know who you are, lucky reader.)
Smouldering eyes included.
Wearing power suits, clicking high heels out of the elevator, my own office, and a full lunch hour where I could actually LEAVE to get things done…I love it. I love my new job. Returning to the old stomping grounds was a treat, although I had to remind myself not to go behind the front desk and get to work.
I get to wear outfits like this to all my meetings!
An even better treat? Seeing everyone I used to work with. Oh yes, this included my two favorite bartenders. A Cosmo on the house, and throw in a glass of Riesling? I’m down even more so. Getting walked to my car reminded me of a few things. How much I miss having friends of the male sex, how to be treated like a lady, and the spark of intrigue that lights my gut when certain glances are thrown my way.
Oh yea, the zinging sensations are still very much there.
Oh yes, I’m asking for trouble and the scenarios have been played out in my head. Thank goodness my fingers don’t have minds of their own when my cell phone is around. But wouldn’t it be great if there was a tap on my sliding glass doors, pull back the curtain and there stood Josh Duhamel? He seriously makes me oozy all over with lust. Have you looked into those eyes? Probably not since you’re wrinkling an eyebrow at me wondering what the hell it feels like to be “oozy with lust.”
First my jaw would drop…and then I’d open the door, and not stop touching him.
I don’t like being alone, and waking up from dreams where I’m being showered with love and affection to a world where I am so incredibly alone in the romance department is terrible disheartening. It could be said that I have loved and lost. It’s true. A break-up means losing one you love in a very special way.
It’s over, and it’s literally ripping me a apart right here, right now.
My heart may still be hurting a year later. Ridiculous, yes. It’s been a year. Yet, the world has decided to throw more couples than I can handle in front of my face and it makes me hate myself a little bit more. And the wedding engagements on Facebook. I may delete my account until the new year.
Seriously. Another one?
Stay strong, Jedi. There is someone out there for all of us, The road is simply longer and lonelier for some of us.
I’m trying just about everything to give me that mid-morning punch in the gut, and I think the only way I’m going to get that is if I insert the coffee IV into he crook of my arm the minute I step out of the shower, and while it’s still attached to my blood flow, also down about 2-3 Rock Star energy drinks. Two words: caffeine overload. I’d be dead within the noon hour. And, why, may I ask, am I craving crunchy sweet somethings already and it’s not even noon?
I’m not pregnant, that’s for sure. But my body is going through some weird changes right now.
What is going on with my body is beyond me. I’ve started taking Vitamin B tablets, but that can’t be working this hard-core already, can it? I read somewhere they jump start your metabolism rates, and this was the main push behind my taking them, especially with a month separating me and my sister’s wedding day. But I can’t imagine that this is what it’s doing to my body already…Can it?
I do not like feeling hungrier than a tiger who has been put on a vegetarian diet for months unwillingly. And yes, that may be a totally lame clique, but you know what? I don’t care! I need some chips or something.
“Men love to watch two women make love. I wonder, does this turn them on, or are they just trying to figure out how to do it right?”
Given my current dating and love life situation here (or lack thereof would probably be more accurate to say), Joy Behar, the talk show talent, really knows how to make me giggle. I’ve always wondered this same thing. What is it that gets men going when two women kiss? It doesn’t even have to be a passionate, sexy kiss. It could be a tiny peck on the lips, and their imaginations know no boundaries. They are running wild, and free, and imagining the next three women they meet int he sack together.
Everyone could use a little more “who cares?” in their lives.
Another reason why women are the superior species.
Although I can’t entirely say we don’t have sex on the brain a lot of the time. We really actually do. As Rachel Berry happened to spurt out in Season 1 of Glee during her one and only Celibacy Club meetings, “Let me tell you something they don’t want you to know. Girls think about and want sex just as much as guys do.” Well said, young Berry, well said.
I actually find her annoying more than half the time. But she hit this one on the head.
It happens when you least expect it. For me the past couple of weeks, I see one little thing happening and I’m suddenly on a one-lane mind track about an article I read in Cosmo last month, or I’m thinking about the time New Guy brushed his hand against mine while standing in his kitchen, cooking up ourselves a little meal, and then…
HA! No this isn’t going to turn into a soft porn paperback you secretly read in the library when you’re bored and trying with all your might to avoid studying. BUT the truth is, we all think about it more than we care to admit. Just last night I had a dream about New Guy’s Best Friend and when I woke up this morning…whoa, was I in a tizzy? I forced myself to think about other things, and to really concentrate on work until my mind no longer fluttered to the has-been’s of Fantasy Land.
Pun totally intended!
Care for me to share it with you? I just think I might (don’t worry…all the fun, nitty-gritty details are reserved for my memory and my memory only!):
“It’s a rainy afternoon, and I’m taking my time walking down the marbled steps of a building that closely resembles the Metropolitan Museum of Arts (it could have been…maybe I’m an art curator or something). Walking along carefully, as the steps are slick with rain and my umbrella is up (and incredibly red! Did I mention it’s an eye sore of a red color?) My mood feels a bit gloomy, as to match the weather, when before me I see a familiar car waiting at the corner. Out steps New Guy’s Best Friends, looking all fine in a clean-cut suit. (What made him look even better? That he didn’t care it was raining and it Calvin Klein was getting a bit damp. I always swoon for a sexy man in a sexy suit.) I stop to take him in, standing there with no umbrella of his own. Damn, he looks so sorry for whatever he did…and I bite my lip as I make my choice. Slowly, I walk up to him, hand him my umbrella, and crawl into back of the car (which I’m pretty sure was a stretch limo.)
I thought New Guy’s Best Friend looked like Josh Dumehal’s twin, and in my dreams, he is. Too damn good-looking for his own good.
Next thing you know, we are snuggled up together on a couch with either his or my family filling the living room space before us. We’re watching a movie, and I know I’m wearing a dull blue pair of sweatpants because New Guy’s Best Friend’s hand keeps brushing along the waistline, and I have to push it away. There are people in the room with us! We can’t just get down and dirty with kids in the room (Do I even know they’re kids? Not really.) But he takes my hand anyways, and we crawl BEHIND the couch and then I let him have his way with me.(Because that would always work in real life!)
So…behind the couch?
Next thing you know, we’re no longer behind the couch, but actually outside on the wet grass(and yes, it is still raining) and we are kissing incredibly passionately, completely oblivious to the fact we’re rolling around on wet, grassy earth. When that’s all said and done with (and I will say THAT memory will be sticking with me for quite some time) we walked back inside and return to the couch we were sitting on previously, but now the movie is over and we’re alone in the room. My hair is soaking wet and my clothes are sticking to me like wet sand on a cold day. Suddenly, the door across the room from us flies open and there stands my scruffy-looking ex of a boyfriend(and it is the real vision of my real-time ex-boyfriend, which really sent my heart into my throat).
Cue staring and dripping wet hair all over the couch where it started it all!
He just stood there, and stared at me as the door swung slowly shut and I know he continued to stare at me and New Guy’s Best Friend, who I now noticed was shirtless (was he the whole time? My god we’re two terrible people, doing it in front of giant bay window for all I know), because the door continued to swing back and forth a few times before stopping. I breathed in deeply once…twice…pushed a piece of wet hair behind my ear…”
…and then I woke up.
Hopefully, that is not the end of dreams like that to come. I’m going to need a few good ones to keep my warm all winter long. Supposedly snow is in the forecast for this weekend already. Brrr! I’m so not ready!
But to keep the good, warm feelings going, here are my weekly Midweek Smiles to keep you feeling good. On the inside, at least
- Welcome what life brings, and it’ll bring you good things.
Not just a hot girl, but an invite to a Harry Potter party, too. Booya! You hit the jackpot!
- Stress doesn’t have to get the best of you.
Stress? What stress? I’m great at what I do.
- There’s no reason you can’t succeed.
Bring it on, Shelob!
- Let yourself be someone amazing: the real you.
I am hot…and I mean I have a loaded gun in my pocket.
- Grow a brand-new future. Plant a dream.
The buckeye brought good luck all around.
- It’s okay to take care of yourself, too.
That should always include decking yourself out in diamonds.
- Things are going to be better than okay. They’re going to be great!
Enough said.
See? Combine any of those words with that dream, and aren’t you just feeling all smooshy inside? I know I do. It probably helps my case a little bit more that I was the starring role getting all the action in my very own dream…but those are simply details.
Since I’m the leading lady, I’ll be as pretty and stylish as Princess Diana.
Keep up the energy people! The week is halfway over, and there’s still much to be done.
I have a list packed full of exciting and interesting projects for myself to work on, the air holds a certain buzz to it, I have the office completely to myself so no impending click-clacking of heels interrupting my thoughts every other minute, and I have a cup of Starbucks coffee steaming next to me. (I tend to be a Caribou girl, but it’s good to shake things up a little bit every now and then.)
So beautiful on a lousy day
So what’s my problem? Why can’t I focus on a single thing, other than that the ‘How to Train Your Dragon’ score is absolutely amazing?
Do I seriously hate my life this much already? Naw, that can’t be it. I went to Barnes and Noble yesterday, had a great hour of browsing and dreaming and thinking and planning, flirted with the cashier (who my sister insisted I go back and get his number, but I just wasn’t feeling it while still wearing my gym running pants…although my hair looked absolutely beachy-keen), bought my new Book of the Month (have I told you about that?), tried out Noodles and Company for the first time and LOVED it, and then I went home and got myself sorted out in my room to the point where I sat on my bed staring at the movie I was playing, asking myself, “Now what?”
“Perks of Being a Wallflower” is my October choice for Book of the Month.
So many things to do, and I can never nail down an order in which to get them done. When I reach that calm of crossing a dozen things off my list, then I just feel lost. May the heavens above help me whenever I decide to have kids….I’ll be in an absolutely chaotic heaven.
I just need to face it. It’s not going to be a very productive work day. I’ve been here for maybe 4 hours already, and my eyes are glazing over as I stare at this screen. It’s not that I don’t enjoy the work I’m doing, or the things I have staring me down from the yellow memo pad off to my left-hand side. I just don’t feel the burning motivation. Add on top of that the burning, disgusting thought of getting back on that treadmill for another 30 minutes at the end of the day, and I’m ready to crawl under my desk and call out I have the swine flu so everyone should just STAY AWAY.
It’s as if I am Michael Scott and my work is Toby Flinderson.
Happy Thursday, all
“I’m lazy. At work my favorite part of the day is being on hold.”
You have summed up my feelings entirely, Janet Rosen, who is quite the jokesmith. I just want to stare at my computer screen and see if I can cause it to explode instantaneously. Maybe I’m not happy with my job? But how can I say that when I’ve only been working at it for little over a month now. Most say you need to give it a year before you find a foothold in a new place of employment.
And a book agent on top of everything else. Nicely done.
Like yesterday? Totally rocked the office. I wore a great outfit (scoff all you want, but it really does help your mindset for the entire day if you take time to pick out your clothes and then acknowledge how good you look in it.) What’s this outfit I’m raving about? I actually took advice from Cosmo, and kept things simple. I paired a plain, V-neck black T-shirt with a black pencil skirt (you have to be careful with blacks to make sure they match, and in this case, they blended together perfectly.) Over the shirt, I pulled on an olive-green jacket that carried a semi-business vibe to it. Very much an Take-Me-Seriously-But-Also-Sit-Down-And-Talk-With-Me look to it. Put on my fave pair of black pumps with a silver buckle on the front, slip a black and white patterned belt around my waist to highlight my little middle, and a eye-catching pair of dangling earrings, and I was set to go.
So many great ways to make a black shift-ish outfit look amazing!
I know my workouts are working, too, because I caught a side view of myself and my butt is looking a touch perkier than a week ago…Heck yes to progress!
Anyways, the thing is, I came into work primed and ready to see what the heck was up, and within the first two hours of stepping foot into the office, I fired off two really great ideas for our office, my boss loved them both, and before you know it, plans are being set to put them both into motion. I mean, how great does that make me feel? Makes me feel like I’m doing my job above and beyond, that’s for sure. Granted, my morning was then shot to hell when the project I worked on all morning got tossed by 2:00 in the afternoon, and I was told to start over with a new idea. But, eh, what can you do?
Le Sigh…
Shit happens.
As Forrest Gump said.
It’s going to take more than coffee and chocolate to pick me up this afternoon, so maybe a few words of encouragement will help. Here are a few pick-me-ups for us to share:
- You make life better just by being you.
Which is why I will be wearing this costume come Halloween.
- Disappointments pass. Successes last.
Gondor will forever remember this moment.
- Encourage yourself, too.
You are not going to freak out on this date. You’re going to be charming, delightful, and an absolute darling. With a hint of sass, too. That’s not too much to ask, is it?
- Counting blessings makes them multiply.
The Rohirrim came back, even after they were banished. Count your blessings, indeed, Middle Earth.
- All the good things in life are waiting to be claimed by you.
You are worth it. Oh, so worth it.
- Your efforts will pay off.
They were rewarded well. With salted pork, of course.
- Choose happiness!
Dmitiri could have run, but he ran back towards the one he loves and ended up saving her life.
As a famous Jack Dawson once said in a little known film called “Titanic” once said, “Life is a gift and I don’t intend on wasting it.” I’m leaning in your direction, Jack, and trying to be optimistic about everything and making every moment count. Working out? I’m not going to stop…I’m going to push and run those extra 5 minutes. Writing? Stop fighting it and jot everything down a little bit a day, and things will work out on paper. Love? Keep the doors open, and be open to possibilities.
However, as a Jedi, duty always comes first, and that may be why I’m putting love on the back burner for the time being. I’m focusing on me, and what I need to do in order to choose happiness and live to smile after the choice has been made.
He made his choice, and dealt with the emotional repercussions for years to come.
So far so good.
That also doesn’t mean I can’t have my fun along the way, too
I may or may not be watching too much of The Office.
As Dwight would say, “You think?”
Wanna know how I know this to be true? I am having dreams about breaking up one of my Top 10 couples of all time: Jim and Pam.
The look cozy now, but trust me. Things get far more interesting…and dirty.
Since I have started watching the show (about 6 months ago), I have found their love story to be one of the cutest I have ever seen unfold on my television screen. Literally tore my heart apart when Pam broke off her engagement with Roy (and also leapt with absolute joy when the episode happened where they show her ring finger *gasp* absent of an engagement ring!) When she got back together with Roy with no definite plans for the future with their relationship, but just to see how they work out, I fumed at her. Why would you do that when the sweetest man I have ever witnessed on the TV screen is absolutely pining for you no more than 5 feet away from your desk?!
We wouldn’t have had all these best moments if neither of them wised up eventually.
Then, he gets into a relationship with someone I found highly obnoxious from the start (and far too insecure with herself) when Pam finally grows a big enough pair to say, “No More!” to Roy. Hearing Jim and Karen talk about going to city, to explore it and “get a hotel room” made me as uncomfortable as the time when the Warehouse Guys took on the Office Guys and Jim had to stand there and take it while Pam and Roy shared a long, celebratory kiss. (Also, I loved watching Jim in all his giant tallness king-of-the-court basketball glory against Roy.)
One of the Top Moments that broke my heart. Literally had me going, “Ooooooh. Poor Jim!” It also gave the Dream-Me the perfect opportunity to sweep in and grab his lovely attention.
“I have found that age is a careless jailer. There are hours, days, even weeks, when it doesn’t seem to check up on you as much. During those times, you are the same whizzy you have always been, in some ways better.”
The original Cosmogirl, Helen Gurley Brown, has captured the essence of my forever-lasting romantic self. It’s never going away any time soon, and any guys who can’t handle a girl who loves her great love story (especially the one called Her Own), better keep searching. When it comes to love and keeping the romance alive, I will always be that whizzy self of mine.
Thee first editor-in-chief of my favorite magazine of all time. Who would have thought it?
Anyways, in this dream…I broke them up. I break up Jim and Pam! Pretty much put them on the verge of divorce. And why would such a solid couple end up in such distress? Because, my dear readers, somehow Pam ended up turning into an absolute domineering bee-yotch and Jim got sick of it. Somehow I was around to charm him. Next thing you know….details get very, very juicy.
Let me explain further:
Jim and I are at an office party (apparently I also work for Dunder Mifflin…but since they were the only two people from the show I recognized, I’m going to safely assume we just work for the same company.) We laugh and joke over drinks in plastic cups, and seem to only have a focus on each other. It comes up in conversation that both of us are both attending an open house on a property we’re both looking at in hopes of purchasing. (Of all things to have in common…a possible mortgage!) Next thing you know, my hand is on his forearm, and his arm is around my waist to stop me from toppling to the ground. I’ve had quite a bit to drink.
Let’s me honest…we both did.
Plenty of heated stares to keep the mood right where it shouldn’t have been.
Soon, we’re stumbling down the street, me in my work coat, and Jim starts leading me up the steps to…Surprise, Surprise!…the house we’re both going to for the open house the next day. The door is unlocked when Jim gives it a twist, and we stumble inside. We start giving ourselves a tour of the place, making up facts about the counter tops in the kitchen, the tile flooring in the bathroom, the clock hanging above the fireplace mantel. The place is somewhat furnished, to give the house a more fleshed out look when we tour it the next day. He makes a joke about the carpeting, and I pull him down to the couch as we start laughing too hard. We look up from out laughing fit, and our faces are incredible close….Soon, our lips are pressed together in a hungry sort of way. Jim rips off my coat and throws it somewhere off towards the direction of the kitchen.
Very reminiscent of the car scene from Titanic. (Can you tell I love the movie Titanic too much?)
(This is where the dream fast forwards, but I’m sure you know what happens next…or I just keep the dirty details to myself. Haha!)
Out of nowhere, a blanket as appeared on the couch, and I lay half covered by it when suddenly the door bursts open. Who but enters, but Pam! Jim leaps off me, and I frantically reach for the blanket to pull it over my chest as I sit up. I notice Jim is still wearing his black work socks, but he’s also still wearing his white button-down work shirt (half the buttons undone…my handiwork, I’m sure) and a blue pair of plaid boxers. His hair remains incredible mussed up (also my handiwork.)
It’s not what it looks like, I swear, Pammy…OMG how it makes me laugh now.
Jim tried to explain, but Pam simply stares at him, then me, then back at him, then back to me. She points a finger at me, and says, “I’ll see you at the open house tomorrow.” (Can we say awkward?!)
There’s always been a bitchier side to her, if you pay close attention.
Sure enough, I show up to the open house the next day. Pam makes sure to stand right next to me throughout the entire tour, and when we reach the living room, see the couch, Pam makes an off-hand comment about how comfy the couch is. “Lots of things could be done on this couch,” she says to no one in particular, as she sits down on the cushions to give them a bouncing “test run.” (Are you kidding me? She’s saying it to me in that passive-aggressive way of hers.) To make things worse, I notice her protruding belly from under her shirt.
She stands up and says, “Won’t Jim and I be happy here?” I see how it is: You sleep with my husband, I get the house. (Sounds like a fair trade, right?)
Because apparently, I make deals like this often. Even in my dreams.
Wrong…
…And the dream ends, with me waking up with one thought on my mind, “I’m an incredible home wrecker!”
The thing that made it worse? I’m watching another episode of The Office last night, and when a shot of Pam and Jim pops up on my screen, I caught myself thinking, “And he chose me over you, Pammy. Take that!”
Yeesh….I am one strange cookie sometimes.
But, when I think about how cute Jim looked before he leaped off that couch to confront Pam pantless, I don’t feel quite so bad about it. To add to that, here are a few words to life your spirits as the week is halfway done! Yee-haw!
- You deserve no less than the best.
When it comes to the Olympics, Ryan Lochte was all the best I needed.
- Today will bring blessings your way.
You never know when Eywa may hear you…and answer.
- You are unbeatable.
Rocky Balboa will always be the #1 champion in my heart. He’s got quite the spirit inside him.
- Sometimes all a dream needs to succeed is some remodeling.
Noah knew he only needed to fix up the house, and Allie would come back to him. Guess what? She did.
- You are already wonderful.
He just needed a few pointers to bring out the natural wonderfulness he already possessed.
- Someone appreciates you more than you know.
He kept his love for Keira Knightley tucked away inside for a long, long time.
- Determination outlasts doubt. Believe!
As the King of Gondor said, “There is always hope.”
Alright, recalling this dream has made me quite the grinner. Add in the great dance tunes Pandora is feeding me right now, and I’m ready to rock n’ roll the rest of the day out. Have a good rest your day and remember, a bad day can always be righted by healthy doses of chocolate
Raise your hand if you’ve turned into a snarling, drooling, foaming at the mouth addict to the Summer 2012 Olympics taking place in London at this exact moment in time?
Or busting metal out of your knuckles?
No one? Anyone? Are you sure?
No, my hand isn’t in the air, either.
BUT…I have become a total Olympics Junkie since the opening ceremony took place last Friday evening. And, yes, I didn’t capitalize the word ‘junkie.’ It’s only fair I pay my dues to what I have become and wear it like a patch on my sleeve with pride.
It’s still the good ol’ red, white and blue!
One of my friends commented the other day about how watching the Olympics makes them feel more patriotic than any other time of their lives. Watching members of our country compete against our rival countries (like those dang French in the swimming competitions who knocked my beloved Ryan Lochte out of medaling yesterday and pushing him into 4th place…just shy of a medal. Dang you, Frenchies!!), it really does lift something in the spirit.
I clapped and screamed so loudly, one of my coworkers asked if I was doing okay.
As I watched the women’s gymnastics team achieve gold for the first time since the Magnificent Seven, I felt a different sort of pang resonate through my chest. It was a pang of longing.
Why do athletes always take a picture of themselves biting the medal? I never got that one…But you go Fab Five!
I miss competing. Plain and simple. I miss the rush of adrenaline that let me know something exciting was about to happen, and the result totally rested on my shoulders.
At that point, I could only hope I’d trained long enough and hard enough to face my opponent. Tennis, once again, pops into my mind. That sport, for me, will always hold a special place in my heart. My high school was small, and barely had a sports team of any kind. Somehow, we managed to amass enough students every year. Well, upon my entering high school, I knew I wanted to play basketball. Tennis, on the other hand, was something my cousin convinced me to try out the summer before I entered official high school status. It didn’t hurt that my sister also played on the team for a few years prior to my entry into high school, so naturally, I wanted to follow in her footsteps (but discreetly. No one likes to admit they did something because their sister made it look cool!)
Don’t tell anyone, but…
A long story short, I was hooked after my first summer lesson. So when “try-outs” for the team came up later in the summer, I got a call from the coach asking if I wanted to see what a couple of practices would be like, and make my decision to be on the team from there.
You should know up front that there as no C-Team or JV squad for this tennis team. When you joined the team, you were playing at the varsity level immediately, and for someone who had never touched a racquet prior to that summer lesson, it was slightly terrifying.
Step right up and show us what you can do with that racquet. Oh, man…
Even more terrifying? Being placed at 3rd singles for my first match ever. I was playing opponents who had been playing for 5+ years, and literally would kill me if I got in the way of the ball without my racquet to deflect its speeding orb-like self.
I won’t lie. It sucked at the time. I knew I wasn’t the best of players, but I also knew I was better than what my scores reflected. I considered it a victory when my side of the score cards shined with a game or two in my favor, and not big fat zeros. 6-0, 6-0. I never hated a score total so much in my life.
You love to hate them, but they control the game.
Like I said, it sucked at the time. But I was too young and dumb to acknowledge the training and skill sets I was picking up right away from playing opponents way beyond my skill set. As I grew older with the sport and my own personal skills began to expand, the tides were turning. I was suddenly that player other teams hated to play. My years of being pounded into the tennis pavement paid off. I became one of the best players in the conference. It took a lot of patience, a lot of practice, and a lot of beatings to reach the skill set I eventually entered the season with my senior and final year of high school. Now, to say I was undefeated that season would be a total lie. I was beaten a handful of times, but the beautiful part is that it wasn’t by complete shut-out.
I made myself a promise when I advanced to the 2nd singles position: If I was bound to lose, I would win at least 2 games every set and not go down with a shut-out. It kept me swinging, that’s for sure. When I assumed the 1st singles position, it became my goal to shut out players the way I had been shut-out all those years ago.
I never hesitated to celebrate a good point, especially after establishing myself as a force to be reckoned with on that court.
You know what? I achieved that goal a number of times. My time had come, and I wasn’t about to forget it.
“It’s straight from the horse’s mouth.Not that I’m saying I’m a horse.”
We only like to tell it how it is, don’t we, Victoria Beckham, the erstwhile “Posh Spice”. She may have been talking about her autobiography with those words, and I guess in a way, so am I. Tennis is a part of my life, so consider this a fleeting story in a long, long, not-even-close-to-being-completed autobiography about, well…me!
Still hard to believe she was one of the Spice Girls back in the 90s.
So, how does this tie in with the Olympics?
There’s a point to this, I promise.
Like previously stated, I miss the competition. I miss the mental preparation needed prior to the event. Seeing the athletes sitting and watching/cheering on their teammates with their ear buds tucked safely in their ears…I used to do that. I needed ten minutes of “me” time before stepping out on the court. I miss the routine. I miss the physical and mental discipline.
I miss giving everything I have on that court, and I mean, EVERYTHING. Down to injuries and tears.
I need to find myself an adult sports team. Now that I have a Big Girl Job and everything, I have my evenings to train, and a fighting spirit that just don’t quit. I’m always looking to prove myself. Maybe I could be on the national tennis circuit yet.
I don’t care how, but I miss being beaten to a pulp physically only to return and do it all over again the next day.
I think it’s okay for me to hold on to that longing, the want to be a part of a team again, the want to be disciplined enough to take the reins on my own but also have a bigger picture in mind. SO…with that in mind, I realize it’s been awhile, but here’s my latest installment of ‘Hey, It’s Okay’s”
Ready? Set! *Bang* (That’s a starting gun, just so you know )
Hey, It’s Okay…
… If all your future baby names come from celebs. Cate? Shia? Adorable, right?
Suri still remains one of my faves.
… To know what only four out of the 12 keys on your key chain actually go to.
Who needs this many keys, anyways?
… To still be forwarding people that ridiculous “Talking Twin Babies” YouTube video. Funny on the first or the dozenth viewing.
… To pretend you’re getting in shape for your wedding even when there’s no ring on your finger. Really, whatever motivates you.
I’m going to be in a wedding come November. Same difference. I could lie and say I am the one getting married. Everyone confuses me and my sister for twins anyways.
… To make everyone else turn around, walk 10 paces and sing cheesy Bon Jovi songs while you attempt to pee in the woods.
A squad of stormtroopers singing Bon Jovi would be hysterical.
… If one hot dog is pretty much never enough.
Hot dogs and summer just go hand in hand, especially at baseball games.
… To ask him to kick in for your birth control pills. More than OK!
I really don’t think the boys need a mini-me running around either. It’s for both your sakes.
… To look up, realize you and your significant other are both on your phones and totally feel like those people.
Put them away, idiots.
… Not to have the foggiest idea how to talk to a three-year-old.
Just let him do his thing…
We still have a lot of summer left ahead of us, and I intend to fully grasp each day with a new fervor. It’s amazing how knowing I have a new job starting in a few weeks has totally changed my perspective on things. I go to and leave work totally smiling, and it’s incredible.
One nice thing? Soon, I’ll be buying myself a new laptop, so when I get home from work, pop a beer and snack a little bit, I can sit down on my porch, open my computer, and blog away, be done in like 1.5 hours, and still have time left in the evening to go out and do a few things yet.
Like watching the sunset at my leisure, and not through a pane of glass window panes!
How nice will that be?
Until then, I’m glued to this schedule and to my TV. Every glimpse I can have of Ryan Lochte these days, I’m taking it. Damn, how someone can look so good in a swim cap and swimming trunks is beyond me.
Mr. Lochte, you keep doing what you’re doing, and I’ll keep watching and cheering from my living room. You’ve got a fan in me, sir. (And half the country’s female population, I’m sure.)
“You got it,” he says with a wink and a charming smile.
