I’ve worn a dress with bare legs to work twice this week. What is going on with this weather? Unbelievable.
I’m going to get fooled into thinking its spring. I’m going to become a victim of spring fever, and I’ll be bucking at the bridle to get my swimsuit, flip-flops, and cargo shorts out. Then, guess what will happen. This city will dump 4 feet of snow on us, and get frigidly cold until the end of June. Just like last summer. I shouldn’t complain. I got my birthday wish of beautifully warm weather for not only a tan, but a half beach day and margaritas in the sunlight. Couldn’t really get much better than that.
Oh, and I became fully aware that I’m an adult. For realz.
Even sitting here, and typing this post, I’m feeling overheated, sweaty, and have the urge to rip my clothes off. Sounds more typical that you’d think….especially when its hot in the summer time. Less clothing = ultimate comfort. Maybe I’m just having a hot flash.
“A new study found that menopausal women who smoke are more likely to have hot flashes, and women who smoke while having a hot flash are more likely to burst into flames.”
Awww, thank you funny bone finder and aunt of Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Caroline Rhea.
Earlier this summer, I went through a phase. I’m still not sure what I was trying to do, honestly. The only thing I can call it is a ‘bad ass’ stage. Or, I should really call it the trying to be a bad ass stage. Looking back on it, there was no point to the things that I did. The main thing that really gets to me? I took up smoking. Like, I got to the point where I started craving cigarettes. That should have been my first clue to stop smoking the death sticks. But, I kept going at it. There’s an episode of Friends where Rachel pretends to be a smoker so she can be “in” with her boss and coworker since they discussed important business deals when they were on their smoke breaks, excluding Rachel.
You could say I picked up smoking for the same reasons. I wanted an “in” with my coworkers. Smoking is a social thing, and when one goes, everyone goes. Even to this day, I hate being the one standing outside in the smoking area being the only one not smoking. It’s not really smoking area…break area? No, it’s a smoking area. Anyways, I see them all bunched together in their white work shirts when they go out to smoke, and I can watch them on the security TV screens. Not to sound totally pathetic, but I felt left out.
One too many stressful days at work later, someone offered me one, and I took it. I can’t lie either. I was curious to know what it would be like to actually smoke…and not just take a puff because I’m drunk and someone told me to take a drag off their cig. The way a cigarette feels in your hand…I kind of liked it. I liked it enough to keep smoking for a majority of the summer.
If there’s one thing I lied about to my ex-boyfriend, it was smoking. When it came to smoking, I was a bit of a hypocrite. I didn’t like it when he did it, and he knew it. Yet, there I was, puffing away on my very own breath stink bomb. After a little while, I stopped caring if he knew about me smoking or not. I just plumb didn’t care. Eventually we were smoking together outside. Often times, someone would offer me one. You can’t say no, right? In the end, I got to know some of my coworkers decently enough.
Well, then reality smacked me in the face. Went to my first follow-up appointment with my doctor, and they grilled me about if I smoked or not. If I wanted my body to be in a shape where it could take care of itself, I had to quit smoking. Even the little bit that I did do was ruining my chances that my cervix could fix itself right up on a natural basis. On top of that, when you’re on birth control and smoking, your chances for blood clots and heart congestion go through the roof. Considering I’ve been on the pill for a little bit now, it was another reason to say STOP.
On top of that, the Jedi really wouldn’t approve of the effects of smoking. The instant it hits my lungs, and I’m out of breath jumping out of my chair…whoa, bad day, indeed. I could already suffer from that if all I did was eat all day and sit solely on my couch. Thank the Force I have reconnected with tennis!
By no means was I able to say I had an addiction to cigarettes. It was easy for me to quick. I still get urges. The urges come on strong particularly strong when the day has gone haywire or taken a dip for the worse. Sometimes, ice cream just doesn’t cut it. Nor Ryan Gosling’s abs. When HIS abs can’t distract you from something, you know it’s bad.
I acknowledged the fact that Valentine’s Day is coming. Lovey-dovey things will be happening every single day and absolutely everywhere there will displays of how to show someone how much you love them. His and her’s everything. It’s amazing how things can turn around in a year. Last year, I couldn’t wait fo the holiday. I get why. I was actually attached to someone…and oh yeah, it was the day he had asked me out, so we were also celebrating our one-year anniversary. He didn’t disappoint either. Do you think he ended it because he knew he couldn’t top last year’s? It would have been out 2-year. Ugh, I need to stop thinking about it…but its so hard not to. It doesn’t help that there are a lot of Star Wars Valentine’s Day things, too. He was a huge Star Wars nut on top of everything else that attracted me to him.
New Guy digs Star Wars, but I don’t think I could argue with him the benefits of a one-sided lightsaber versus a double-sided. We can never debate which lightsaber duel is the absolute best out of all six films. It’s not going to happen…he doesn’t dig it like I do. Although, he did get me a bobble head stormtrooper for Christmas. There’s hope for him yet.
Do I even dare breach the subject of Valentine’s Day with him? Don’t get me wrong, I really like the guy and we’ve progressed to a good level since the last time we saw each other. But after our last discussion, it’s clear we don’t see eye to eye on where we stand right now as a couple. I was about to debate whether you could call us a couple or not, but yes, you could.
My last boyfriend told me I have too high of standards when it comes to men. My standards are so high, he said, that no guy on this earth can match them. The only guy who can match them is the exact one I’m thinking of. Which happens to be Josh Groban. Think he’ll come across this and know I called him a perfect guy? I’m crossing my fingers just in case.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I’ve built up so many things in my head, I’m just setting myself up for failure with each and every guy I meet and potentially date on a serious level. Regardless, I’m still holding out for that guy I’m searching for, who will meet all my high standards. They have to be high. I’m not going to date any loser who shows up at my side at the bar. I need someone of substance. I see things that match my standards all the time. Guess what? They’re either taken already or they’re gay. I could always take the low road and say “if he’s not married, he’s still fair game.” But I wouldn’t want to do that to some unknowing bride. Crush her, it would.
I stumbled across a site that demonstrated how to make geek-styled Valentines’ Day cards. One of them said my favorite Star Wars lines of all time: “I love you.” “I know.”
*Heart melting at this very moment!*
Last year, I would have pushed myself to make this very card and made sure it was just right, with all the right flares and touches needed to make it about “us.”
This year? I got nothing but a bottle of Jack to keep me company. Maybe I’ll buy myself a thing of Darth Vader chocolates, eat them myself, along with a bottle of champagne I’ll be drinking with a curly straw. The utter definition of class, let me tell you. Stay tuned for pictures on the most epic day of the year. I have to do it up then, because oh yeah! Two days after the day of love, I’m getting chunks of my cervix surgically removed and a small chance that what’s causing this ickiness could come back, and my chances of having kids, drops dramatically.
Yeah…Happy freaking Valentine’s Day to this girl.
I can probably safely bet I won’t get anything from New Guy. No bouquet of roses, no chocolates, no taking me out to dinner, no night in cuddling on the couch, no sappy rom-com movies, no cute V-Day date outfit. Probably not even a phone call or text or remembrance of the day.
To the girls out there who complain about their boyfriends calling them too much? Shut the hell up. I’d rather him call too much and show he does indeed care about you, then never have him call, let alone text you, and leave you simply relying on a statement he said a week ago that sort of resembled “i like you, too.” (when he really said something like, ‘I like girls with brown hair. It’s better than blonde any day.”)
I’m sure I’ll be obsessing more over Valentine’s Day the closer the day draws near to us. Let’s be honest, between now and then, I do have quite a lot happening in my life. I’ll focus on that stuff first, then I’ll let whatever emotion hit me like a wave, and push on. I’m sure I’ll keep you up to date, too, on whether New Guy pulls through or not. All because of one stupid thing called love. Why the Force decided to bestow upon me the gift of endlessly feeling each and every emotion with every fiber of my being? I’ll never be sure.
Until then, keep the hot flashes under control and dance like no one’s watching.
Hey, it’s the weekend!
May the Force be with you!