Month: March 2012
If the time and opportunity arises, I like to think I’d make a pretty damn good manager. Of any group, facility, or company I become attached to.
At least I’ll know how to tactfully deal with people. I won’t start their day off with threatening their job because my main priority is school at the moment and not their company. Hello, isn’t what I told you in my initial interview? I’m currently a student and looking for part-time work. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I told you that when you hired me. It shouldn’t come as a shock when I change my availability to weekends only because, hey, my school workload increased from the time I first started to now…on top of that, I’m in my final year. So, yes, my school work load has increased because I have projects that require me showing what I’ve learned over my five years at the Academy.
It makes me sick to my stomach. It doesn’t help the last time I checked for my new schedule, I didn’t have anything scheduled for the following week. Fingers crossed that the new schedule simply isn’t out yet, but I’ve had weekends where I wasn’t scheduled before. Considering how many people have quit or are going to be taking an extended period of time off, I don’t get why they would try to get rid of me at this point. My current availability is only going to last for another month and a half roughly anyways. Ugh, whatever. If they want to get rid of me, I wish they would just tell me to my face and not leave me hanging to simply drop out of the system because, oh, they never got around to scheduling me.
Just plain bullshit.
I’m done complaining for right now. I’m sure the topic will come up again very soon…like tomorrow, if I discover I wasn’t schedule anywhere. Just freaking ridiculous.
There are few openings I’m going to apply to, and I really hope I get one of them. One of them has been a dream job for a long, long time, so fingers crossed. Plus, it would be a way better fit than where I currently work anyways. At least at one of the jobs I’m currently working. I actually just took a short reprieve from this posting to look at a few places to see if they were by chance hiring, and a few of them are, so guess what I’ll be doing over the next couple of days? Yes, sir, I’m going to be applying like a madwoman in the hopes of finding a new part-time job. Ish…job hunting for a Big Girl job is hassling enough…but to go through all of this for a part-time gig I may end up hating? Yeah…but I really don’t want to deal with the stress of “Am I getting scheduled next week? Did I get scheduled next week? Oh, now I need to hassle people for hours.”
I really want to be done with that sort of crap.
My semi decent plan is starting to fall apart here. I was supposed to graduate but hold on to both part-time jobs. Not lose two of them the instant I graduate.
“Look out, I’m driving again.”
The preemptive warning of our former first lady, Barbara Bush, when she got behind the wheel again at the age of 68.
I admire elderly people who hold on to the abilities and skills they held al their life. I hope to be that way when I reach my elderly years. Not being able to drive will kill me. Sometimes you just need to get in the car and drive away. Sometimes I just need to go for a walk along the lake, or stop at a bookstore, or grab a coffee, or just to get out on the road and feel the wind through the window while singing my lungs out to the music blaring my speakers. Sounds a little bit like a perfect summer afternoon, doesn’t it? While that is my goal for the summer here also, I hope to enjoy the summery moments well into my 80s, 90s, and hopefully make it past 100 without being too much of a vegetable.
I supposed our former first lady’s words could also be pointed in the direction of my sudden need to find my motivation and get back in the saddle. Not just with finding a job, but with my dating life. Things have escalated to an unspeakable level with Deagrok, and I’m scrambling to try to figure out why. What I said exactly that has pushed him over the edge like this. I’m not clear on what has happened and I’m directly involved in this mess. It doesn’t help that he won’t talk to me, so I can’t even try to pinpoint what I did/said to push him to this point. He now believes I viewed us to be a game. How far can I push him to believe I want something from him when I actually don’t. That’s not even the case!
I don’t know what I did!
Whoever said men go through PMS just like women do, I now believe it to be true. I mean, come on, the guy won’t even let me explain myself, let alone give me an opportunity to explain myself. There is so much more I could delve into with this topic, but I’m just going to stop myself. I don’t need this stressing me out more than it already is. What do I want? I want him to talk to me. If he wants to be pissed at me, fine. But let me know where the anger is coming from, and if I can take steps to right this, let me at least make an attempt.
Other than that, my dating life does not exist. I don’t have one, and it’s sort of sad. Then again, its one less thing to be attached to and distracted by. I can focus on finishing school, getting a Big Girl job, moving to a new place, being the best damn MOH possible this summer…all of it. At the same time, having someone’s hand to hold through all of hits would be nice.
One of my girlfriends may have to become a pseudo boyfriend over the summer. Like I said, sometimes you have to jump in your car and leave. I may need to do that more often than not this summer. We’ll see what happens in the next couple of weeks.
Once again, I’m a little late on getting you my inspirations for a Fabulous Friday, but not to worry. I have some pretty great ones headed your way if not by tonight, tomorrow in the early evening sometime. When the weekend’s basically over, you’re going to want something to inspire you for the upcoming new week ahead.
So, stay tuned for my Fabulous Friday finds and an update on the real occurrences of my weekend. Let’s just say VIP status, free beer and wine, and lots of free delicious food.
Need I say more? Oh yes, and I will in my next posting 🙂
Breaking news!!! Breaking news!!! BREAKING NEWS!!!
We have successfully found, chosen, and (at least I have) purchased the bridesmaid dresses for my sister’s wedding. I am beyond stoked for this! Not only is the color she has chosen growing more and more on me every time I look at it, but the number we’ve chosen is one we actually agreed upon. That’s right…both of us really fell in the love with the chosen dress the instant I slipped it on. It’s a one-shoulder, floor-length, sangria colored dress.
Not to toot my own horn, but I look very good in it. Along with already looking great in the sample dress, it’s also highlighted the areas of my body that need improvement. The checklist? Tone arms and shoulders, slim down the waist, rid my hips of love handles, and then we’ll think about tinning down the thighs. So, in a nutshell, I need a whole body makeover.
HA! Who doesn’t?
I also got my hair chopped. A nice upper body massage, someone else washing my hair, and a good all-over trimming and adding in of layers, I am now feeling like a new, confident woman. Knowing how good I look already in that bridesmaid dress has put me in a terrific mood this evening.
I would be in an excellent mood if I knew what was going on with a friend I have recently reconnected with. What shall I call him? We’ll call him Deagrok. It’s for me to understand and for you to go along with it. Deagrok and I dated several years ago, and to put a long story short, it didn’t end so well. I ended it by basically ignoring him after I’d told him I no longer wanted to see him. I was moving to another state over the extent of the summer and didn’t want to deal with a long-term relationship while I was away. Once I broke the news to him, I pretty much cut off all communication. Ignored him as much as possible.
Eventually over the summer, when he would message me on Facebook or send me a text, I started responding back. But over that summer, I realized I didn’t want a relationship when I came back to the Academy. I had to break it to Deagrok again, and the second time was probably harder than the first. On him more than me, and any hope of salvaging the friendship we had was gone.
Fast forward a few years, and we’re talking again. At least we were up until last night. Something I said was taken out of context. Actually, it couldn’t be taken out of context because we were talking via text message. The main reason I hate that form of communication: You can’t read the real intentions of the person “speaking”. I said something with the intent of it being a joke, and Deagrok took it completely the wrong way. I tried explaining it to him, but now it’s gotten to the point where I have shattered his pride. Or something.
He won’t talk back to me. I make him feel like a fool. That’s what he said. His words, not mine.
I’m not sure how I feel about that. No, I do. It makes me feel horrible. I didn’t say anything with the intention of making him feel like an idiot or a fool. I don’t think what we have become over the last couple month’s is a joke. I really don’t know why he feels I think that.
What I do know is that it sucks not talking to him. It sucks thinking he may end the fragile friendship we had rekindled because of a misunderstanding of intention via text message.
Aside from possibly losing a friend, it was a bonding day with my sister, which I have greatly missed. Not only did we pick out her lovely bridesmaid dresses, but we also went out to dinner at the Olive Garden. We are both pregnant with food babies. Seriously, our stomachs look like they are carrying a 3-month fetus. (And so there is no misunderstanding, no i am not pregnant.)
“I never meet anyone nowadays who admits to having had a happy childhood. Everyone appears to think happiness betokens a lack of sensitivity.”
So, my sensitivity to this current situation with Deagrok, it’s because I had a happy childhood. Am I understanding this correctly, Jessamyn West, a pen pusher?
I had an incredibly happy childhood. It was filled with kittens, mud, bike riding, tractor driving, ball catching, four-wheeling, catch playing, and bucking broncos. What can I say? I grew up on a farm. My childhood was radically different from many, many people’s.
I wouldn’t change it for the biggest sapphire known to mankind.
This whole thing could be easily resolved if he would simply tell me what is on his mind, and not leave me hanging when I ask him what’s going on with him. Isn’t communication the basis for a solid friendship, let alone a relationship? I know that’s where his mind was going. Give me a couple more months, and I probably would have been fully open to the idea, too. But, now, I have no clue what is going on.
I’ve told him a million times I’m not going to sugar coat things. I may be blunt, but I’m going to tell the truth. He asked me last night if our break-up those several years ago bothered me still. I plainly said no. The break-up happened, and there’s nothing I can do to change that. I’m going to look forward instead of living in the past. I have done things in my past I’m not entirely proud of, but I’m not going to dwell on them. I’m going to move forward. Those things, those things that make me cringe presently from my past? They’ve made me who I am right now, typing to you. I’m not ignoring that bit of life.
My legs are starting to itch again. I think my allergies are directly linked to stress.
Tomorrow is a brand new day. All I can hope is that bridges will be burned and rebuilt. Rome wasn’t built-in a day, but it only takes a second to make a choice. Then, you deal with the consequences later.
I tend to listen to my gut. It’s gotten me through 20+ years of life this far.
It must be doing something right.
If you start the day out late, everything gets thrown off. That’s my lesson of the day apparently.
My alarm goes off super early, and I woke up in a total state of chaos. Where am I? What am I doing? It can’t possibly be time for me to wake up yet, is it? Why am I not hearing my sister rummaging around the apartment? Oh, birds chirping. How nice…
This was literally my thought process when my alarm blared at 6:45 am. So what did I do? I rolled over and closed my eyes for what was supposed to be another 15-20 minutes of light sleeping. I didn’t plan on taking a shower that morning since I was starting off my day with tennis, modern dancing, and screenwriting with time before work to come home, shower and change my clothes. Like I always do on Wednesday. Oh, happy joy for routines!
Or so I thought. Instead of waking up 15 minutes later, I wake up 50 minutes later, and have 20 minutes before I need to be walking through the door of my office for work. So what else can I do but run into the bathroom, brush my teeth, wipe my face, throw my hair into a ponytail, throw on a pair of jeans and my go-to black t-shirt, throw my workout clothes in a bag along with my notebooks and textbooks, grab my keys and run out the door. I didn’t even have time to grab a fruit strip for breakfast. I walked into my office five minutes late. It’s a new record for me. How I managed to look somewhat decent after waking up in a cloud of “Oh, shit!” is beyond amazing.
The odds were most definitely in my favor.
There have been a lot of perks thrown my way. Upon opening my wallet, I discovered I had a full punch card from the Academy coffee shop. On top of that, upon opening my email, I discovered my screenwriting class was cancelled. What a better way to unwind from an intense game of tennis than to reward myself with the largest, most expensive coffee I could find on the menu since I was getting it for free? I enjoyed every slurp of my large caramel blend while reading my magazine in the green room. It was quite a heavenly experience having that much time to myself, even if it was only 35 minutes.
After learning some capoeira moves in modern, I had a geeked-out conversation with a classmate about the Hunger Games movie. Such an awesome conversation! Yet again, because i let me nerdiness get the best of me, I ran downstairs to grab my bag to head home to clean up before work and I was running late AGAIN. Rushed home, jumped under the running water, and my next obstacle had to be my choice in clothes, of course. Everything I put looked terrible or plainly just not right. What the hell was I going to do? Even if I knew an outfit looked good, I just had an ‘ugh’ reaction to it, so onto the rejection pile it went. Twenty minutes later, I’m rushing out the door because i have seven minutes to get across town to work and I have a bare face. Yes, that’s right. Not a drop of make-up dotted my facial expressions. Believe me when I said I felt both paranoid and naked. I never leave the house without mascara, at least.
I shouldn’t have been worried, though. I get to work, and my friend tells me I look really great. Um…okay. At least I felt confident about my final outfit choice. I know many people have an issue with wearing lots of black. Supposedly is makes you look boring and drab. I feel the exact opposite. I think black is my power color. The color is incredibly slimming! It always looks good on me, it downplays the areas I don’t want to draw attraction to (like my thighs!), and it’s an ultimately classy look to own. There are work places where they only allow you to wear black. A lot of college theater programs only allow students to wear black their first year because they have to earn their right to express themselves through other means, such as clothing. You have to be comfortable with yourself before you can be comfortable in another’s skin.
Whatever that means.
“It’s modeling — I didn’t find the cure for cancer.”
This is what I want to slap across people’s faces when they try to explain how hard living their career choice is. Marisa Lee Miller apparently feels the same way when people create a hubbub over her hotness.
Sitting in the green room during my 35 minutes of “me” time, of course I overheard the chatter about the current trends in the theater. Being a 5th year Academy student, I’ve sort of fallen out of the circle a little bit. Honestly, I could care less. But some of the things these people are worrying about…seriously? You really think I care about how you drive around like a freaking lunatic, and then expect me to feel sympathy for you when you crashed into somebody and dented your car? Do I really care that you ate 3 brownies last night, and now you’re torturing yourself by eating only celery sticks the entire day? Nope, not really. In fact, while you nibble on that piece of green, I’m going to shove a big fork full of tuna salad in my mouth. Oh, and your teacher graded you poorly on an assignment you openly admitted to throwing together last night, and now you’re pissed because you got such a terrible grade on it? Yeah, I’m sure the professor has it out for you. Especially since the paper was supposed to be at least 5 pages, and you send him 3 and barely a half. Yup…definerlyt has it out for you.
Besides all that, it’s been a pretty great day. I even had a joyous time working on my professional portfolio. It isn’t perfect, but it’s a work in progress and I’m liking what I’m seeing.
Since it’s midweek, and it can be a bit of a struggle to rouse ourselves for the rest of the week, I’m going to start something new. I hope to make it happen every Wednesday as a little pick-me-up and reminder that we’re not on the downslide for the week. Little words of encouragement, if you will. Reminders that great things do indeed lie ahead, especially when the week has proven to be a tough one.
– You are a positive force in someone’s life.
– Sometimes, stepping back shows us the best path forward.
– Life is more beautiful than ever. So are you!
– Relax. Replenish. Rejuvenate!
– Miracles still happen every day!
– Let your dreams keep you strong.
– Work some magic. Smile!
Hopefully, one of those has brightened the dark night for you. And no, I am not talking about our true Dark Knight, Batman.
Although, he can drive up in his Batmobile any time now….
It’s amazing the looks one gets when they wear sweats in public.
It’s amazing how they accrue even more stares by bearing the gender of a woman.
Yeah, that’s right. I wore my sweats in public for the last 12 hours, and I had perfectly good reasons. I played an hour of doubles tennis and then danced for an 1.5 hours in a tiny, hot dance studio. Sweat was dripping off my temple. How’s that for a pretty picture?
When I planned on sitting in the library for the next 3 hours after that, I really didn’t care that I would still be in my dance pants. In fact, it was far more cooling on my body than sliding back into my jeans. But man, did I get some dirty looks from people. Actually, I should fix that statement. I got some dirty looks from women. Women, specifically, wearing these things called leggings as pants.
This could be a really interesting argument to have. Why are sweatpants better than leggings? Oh, let me count the ways. But, in the fear of seriously pissing off anyone reading this, I’m not going to go too far into detail. Yet. (Come on…I’ve seriously insulted my ex-boyfriends on here…Do you really think I fear the wrath of girls who think leggings are sexy?)
Let’s be real here…only about 1% of the entire world’s population can actually make leggings look good. Those are the girls who have on hips, no thighs, no boobs, and definitely no excess fat anywhere on their bodies.
To the ladies giving me the stink eye because I was walking around in cotton, tie waistband dance capris: None of you were a part of that 1%. Many of you had hips, butts, and thighs. Be proud of those things! Shake what your momma gave you. However, don’t be insulted when I give you an equally stinky eye because I can see your ass crack through your leggings. My cotton sweats do not show off my ass crack. In fact, they actually flatter and streamline my thigh’s shape.
There’s our difference. Thank you, and good night!
Ah, but not really. I had a breakthrough this morning, and it all came down to tennis. I forgot how incredibly happy playing tennis makes me! How knowing my strength is what makes the game happen, to see a direct result of my efforts, and to know that my aggression on the court is actually attractive to others (ahem, guys) on that court.
I actually had a long conversation with a very cute boy in my tennis class because we were nailing each other with our serves. He had a few tricks up his sleeve while I had brute force behind my serving. So totally cute. I knew my tennis skills would come in handy.
The main point here is how much happier I felt following my hour of tennis. My endorphin levels just flew through the roof. Being noticed by a cute boy in class probably didn’t hurt matters any.
“Never trust a woman who doesn’t have an instant hormonal response to diamonds.”
Hard core words of truth from Kate Reardon, a fierce fashionista who had a word or two about diamonds herself.
When my ex and I were together and in love (wow…taht seems so long ago), no matter how mad I got at him at times, if he had ever whipped out a diamond bracelet or necklace or earrings, I would have made love to him right then and there. I’m serious. It didn’t even have to be a giant rock of a diamond. I’m not looking for the Heart of the Ocean diamond here. Just a glimmer of a sparkle of a dusting would have gotten my won over in a heartbeat.
It may sound petty, but any man who gives his girl any fragment of a diamond, he means business…and he’d give a diamond when he loves you. For real.
At least that’s what I’m going to keep telling myself 🙂
As promised, it’s time to deliver my Fabulous Fridays. Again, I apologize for delivering my Friday inspirations on a Monday. But everyone hates Mondays, so why not make it a little brighter by reminding you about the Fabulous-ness that was Friday?
Here they are:
Fabulous Party Idea:
Fabulous Vintage Moment:
Fabulous Magazine Cover:
Fabulous Reaction to 1st Time Reading the Hunger Games:
Check out this blog and if you’ve already read the Hunger Games, you’ll enjoy her reaction as much as I did.
Fabulous Use of Paint:
Fabulous Party Decor:
Fabulous Hunger Games Inspired Cocktail (find recipe here):
I hope these have helped brighten the start of your week, and maybe inspired a little burst of flame inside you, too. Happy Monday, and may the odds be ever in your favor … for the remainder of this week, at least.
Can’t make life too easy on you. Where’s the fun in that?
Here’s my pet peeve of the evening.
Not even just the evening, but for any time’s sake. When you invite someone out to do something…you don’t ignore that person.
Why take the time to ask ahead of time if they’d like to get together, figure out a day, figure out an event to do (like go to a movie!), text them to figure out a final date and time, pick a movie selection time, call them several times to make sure they are indeed still coming and to see if they are on the way, call to ask if they should wait outside for you or go ahead and grab seats–saving you one in the process…..
Why go through all that only to sit on the opposite end of the theater from where I’m sitting, and then barely say two words to me when the movie is over, but then act shocked and insulted when I say I will not be heading out to the bar for drinks following the movie.
What is up with that?
Here’s the deal: I know this guy has liked me for a while. He has gone as far to ask me out well after the fact me and my last boyfriend broke up. He broached the subject lightly before actually asking me out. I said yeah, why not. I’ll give him the shot of at least one date. We spend time talking to try to figure out what we’d like to do. Then, The Hunger Games comes out on the big screen and we’ve both read the books. Great opportunity here!
He gets the idea pretty quickly. Hey…why don’t we go see the movie together? Okay, sounds like a fantastic idea. Especially when we both really enjoyed the book.
Two days later, he’s telling me he invited more people along. Okay, cool, whatever. My attention is going to be on the screen and not on what he’s doing any ways. Then, the above description happens when the day of the “date” arrives.
What the hell is that all about?
See, I’m not upset about the “date” not working out. At all. I went to see a movie. And not just any movie. I went to see The Hunger Games. You know what? I am blown away by it. It stuck really close to the actual book, which I love love LOVE. I’ve loved the character Katniss Everdeen since the first paragraph of the first book. If I could relate to any fictional character, it would be her. I won’t dive into that right now, that’s a whole new topic in itself.
Anyways, I was there to watch the movie. I wanted to see what changes the adaptation made, I wanted to see what each of the Tributes brought to the table, I wanted to feel the emotional connection to certain parts and to see if I would indeed cry at the moments I initially thought I would (and yes, for the most part, I did, plus a few more), I wanted to watch the acting to see if I thought the casting was appropriate or abysmal (love love LOVE all the casting choices here!)
Trust me when I say I was there to watch the movie. I was not there to worry about flirting, or hand holding, or move making, or popcorn falling down my shirt. I was there to watch a beloved story unfold before my eyes.
Needless to say, I was not upset about the evening. I saw the movie, loved it, and now want to talk about it with everyone else who is a die-hard fan.
No, what gets me is the guy’s nerve. What the hell is he doing here? Playing hard to get? Bringing other girls along to make me jealous? HA! I was more turned on by my slushie than anything he could have done. Plus, it doesn’t get you bonus points if I hear you’ve been messing around with one of the chicks in attendance recently. As in yesterday, recently.
Yeah….see why I wasn’t upset about this “date”?
I went and did what I wanted to do. What’s puzzling me and making me laugh really hard is this guys thought process. Does he think I’m, like, soooo into him now? Is this his way of teasing me?
Oh, god….I think I threw up a little in my mouth.
The best part? He’s probably telling everyone how he’s got me hooked. Puh-leeze. The ending credits rolled, I grabbed my purse, finished my slushie, and walked out the door. The only reason I stopped walking was because he called my name from behind me. It’s the polite thing to stop when someone calls your name. He asked what I thought of the movie, and I gave the general answer of “I really liked it.” I continued walking. “Oh, hey, aren’t you coming out with us now?”
Seriously? Two and half hours later, you finally acknowledge I showed up to our “date” and you wonder why I’m walking away. Gotta love the male brain…
I told him no. I have to be up early and I still had homework to do at that point. All of which is truth. I’m going to pay for this late night tomorrow morning and all day long since Monday’s are the longest day of the week for me. Ever. At least my homework is done. Half-assedly.
Ah well, I’ll fix it in the morning.
“A woman scorned is a woman who quickly learns her way around a courtroom.”
Ah, words to the deaf male ears, Colette Mann, a drama devotee.
I have no reason to take anyone to court….yet. But when the day comes, oh you had better hope you never crossed me in this life or any other. I’m unrelenting when I attack. It’s a good way to take the offensive.
Never let up, and never let them see you sweat. I am woman, hear me roar!…. and all of the above. You know the drill.
Sweet dreams, Jedi followers. May the Force be with you as we begin a new week.
Two very simple short words. Celebrities use them all the time. Especially in that moment when they have to acknowledge the world’s witnessing of something stupid on their part. Most will emerge into the daylight with sunglasses, a downward pulled hat, maybe even the lapels of their jacket pulled up high on their necks. Doesn’t matter what they wear. It all screams the same thing: “I know you want to talk to me about it, but I don’t want to say a word.”
So, what do they say instead?
It may not seem like a huge deal to say those two tiny, insignificant words. But its *such* a huge deal. If someone’s lips are kept tight around a subject, any subject at all, it becomes that much juicier. It’s like a steak you can smell on the grill, but you’re a vegetarian. You’re not allowed to eat…you can’t eat it, in fact….but if you ever enjoyed meat at one point in your life, the moment you smell that delicious flank being grilled to perfection or you see someone slice into it with its even and tender slightly pink coloring, you want it that much more.
Yes! Secrets that have no comments about them are just like wanting to sink your teeth into the perfectly well-done steak!
I’ve experienced this for myself. People have seen me out in social settings, I’ve interacted with certain people in said social settings, a few drinks were had, we’re seen leaving the room together….and that’s where the viewers part of the story ends.
What happens the next day? A hurricane of questions ensue.
So, what happened last night? You two really seemed to hit it off. We saw you leave together. You had more than a few mojitos. I’m pretty sure I saw him touch you on the shoulder more than once. You were getting awfully close to each other. Someone said they saw you outside his apartment. Somone said they saw you leaving his apartment this morning. You never called me last night, so I bet you were busy. Yeah, really busy. No one could reach you.
And it goes on and on…Been there, dealt with the drama. And all I had to do was smile and shrug my shoulders.
They already have an idea in their heads anyways! It’s none of their business if I went home with a guy or not. Or if we sat in a bar to have another drink. Not their business if he brought me home and walked me to my door…and kissed my hand good-bye for fear of looking too much like a pushy hard head. It’s even better if they think he’s good-looking, and have no clue as to who he actually is.
Yeah…I’ve been there. The drama, the questions, the attention, everything that followed…it was awesome. I didn’t say a word to anyone about what happened. They all thought they knew, anyways. So, if they actually want the real details, they can come find me and ask me in person. Not via text. Phone call might even be acceptable, but I don’t know if they’re alone or getting the deets for someone else’s sick purposes…so face-to-face is best.
Celebrities have to worry about the press. Photos speak a thousand words. Sometimes I do have to deal with photographs, but not nearly on the scale celebrities do. However, in this day and age, there’s probably a video of everything out there.
“I don’t believe in that ‘no comment’ business. I always have a comment.”
You and me both, Martha Mitchell, the Watergate-era “mouth of the south.”
Hey, if celebrities and presidents want to try their hand at this tactic, and maybe think they can get away with it, I’m more than entitled to try it when the need arises. I am a so-called “normal”. Ha, whatever that means!
I don’t think I’ve ever had a moment of where I’ve actually had to use the words “No comment. My reply of choice? “Why do you need to know?” Because, seriously, why do you need to know about my business? If I want you to know, I’ll tell you. Or blog about it 🙂
Like, last night for example. There was a brief moment in time where my “date” and I stepped outside to grab a breath of fresh air. The way I was dancing up a storm, not only did I lose around 2,000 calories, but I was also losing pounds in sweat. It was sort of disgusting. But, anyways, for the brief time we stepped outside, we were spotted. Almost instantly…”Hey, just saw you outside [insert building name here]. OMG…Who’re you with?” Add about a dozens questions with every conversation I’ve held since opening my eyes this morning.
C’est la vie for the life of the adventurous.
At least while I’m alive, I’m not going to let someone say to another that I lived in ‘a long darn era.’ Oh no, I did not. It may be a long era by length, but by no means should it be boring. That’s half the fun of the ‘no comment’ tactic anyways. Seeing how much you can make people salivate. They probably already know 98% of the story, and the 98% they know is probably the hard, cold facts. But, if you keep them guessing, that’s where the intrigue comes in. You have to know when to play your cards right.
“You gotta know when to hold’em…know when to fold’em…”
The weekend is not nearly close to being done. Stay scandalous, my friends!
It will be a morning for recovery.
Not only from the number of drinks I had, but my muscles need a small break from movement and my throat is so sore, I just need a giant cup of tea with lots and lots of lemon. I have an 8-hour shift ahead of me…where I have to answer the phone. Yeah, I need my voice.
So, what’s up with my that once again I skipped Fabulous Friday? (and it’s coming this weekend, no worries.)
I attended a wedding with a friend last night. Of this wedding party, I did not know a single person. How about that? I almost felt like a Wedding Crasher. Ha, almost.
While I didn’t know either the bride or the groom, I did know an usher and he is the one I went to the wedding with. You know what? It was a blast! I spent the afternoon taking my time getting ready once classes were done for the day.
The whole evening reeked of elegance, and I absolutely loved it. My “date” came and picked me up from my front door. Like, he actually came to the front door of my apartment building and rang the buzzer so I would know he was there. He opened the car door for me, he let me pick the music in the car, he offered an arm for me when we got to the reception. He bought me my first drink of the evening (a cucumber press! I don’t normally have these, but this one had pineapple juice added to its concoction. Is this normal for this type of drink? Since I normally don’t drink it, I don’t know!)
I even got to ‘check’ my coat. I have never ‘checked’ my coat before. How fancy-schmancy was I?
He pulled out the chair for me when it was time to eat dinner. Let me tell you, I felt so classy as I sat with my cucumber press and tossed around my hair a little bit. Oh yea, I was that girl at the wedding. Hell, I didn’t know anybody at this wedding other than my “date” so I really didn’t care what anyone else thought about me.
I did get a thumbs up from one of the groomsmen when I went to refill my drink at the bar. From a groomsmen. Granted, I know when I slid into my dress, it did highlight my waist, which has shrunk considerably in the last couple of months. It definitely felt smaller after my huge bloating episode the previous day when I pretty much fell off the face of the earth in calories.
I’m going through a funk. Why, why, why? I have no idea. But, i pushed myself through for a night…and getting all fancy for a night may have been the cure for a small period of time.
Anyways, my dress was perfect for dancing and flowing around my hips in all the best ways. It also felt great against shaved legs. This may be gross to reveal to you, but I haven’t shaved in a few months. Feeling silk against my bare thighs is a rush of its own kind.
I even broke out my Kate Middleton engagement ring. Yeah, I’m one of those people who bought a replica of the royal engagement ring. I only break it out on special occasions. Weddings celebrations count in the category of ‘special occasions.’ Since I broke it out last night, and I remembered how beautiful the ring is, I may just keep it out all weekend long.
Oh yeah, rocking a giant, dazzling blue stone!
I should probably explain why I keep calling him my “date.” The guy is only my friend. We are not dating, we have never gone on a date or two. We’ve only gone out in group settings. On one such outing with friends, where I first met him actually, I ran into my ex-boyfriend and had a small mental breakdown. Yeah…most definetly the way you want to make a first impression on people. Mental freak-outs and break-downs. I’m such a winner!
Anyways, someone actually broached the subject of whether I was his girlfriend or not, and I had to shake my head. I wasn’t at the wedding to be someone’s date. I came merely as a +1. It may be harsh to say that out loud, but I did not go to this wedding to possibly find a boyfriend, have a boyfriend by the end of the night, or let my “date” know I’m interested in him in that way. We’re friends.
Although, I think he had other thoughts. I always caught him looking at me in certain ways, and I had to dance my way out of it. I’m a really good dancer with life’s problems. How else could I still be standing here if I wasn’t? I know I looked really good last night, but no one should be looking at their +1 that way…especially when it was stated early on I wasn’t going as a date. I was going to keep him company.
Not saying it wasn’t fun. We danced and had a good time. All the songs we requested were played…probably because only a group of 8 people stayed out on the dance floor for the last 2 hours we were there. A couple slow dances, a dance contest (where we placed last…HAHAHA! and our reward was a purple glow stick. I’ll take it!) and I actually sat out of the Electric Slide. What type of person sits out the Electric Slide?
I may have sat out the Electric Slide, but I did not sit out on Thriller. Thriller came on just as I stepped out of the bathroom, and I ran to the dance floor. The other couple we were hanging out with knew how badly I wanted to dance to this song, and I owned that dance floor. I don’t even know the full extent of the actual dance, but I knew the basic parts that everyone recognized. I owned that dance floor.
It was awesome.
This wedding made me appreciate our family weddings so much more. Where I don’t need a date because I can get out on the dance floor all by myself and dance the world away…and no one says a thing. No one is looking at me in certain ways. I’m just me.
I can’t wait for November to get my wedding groove on again.
“My passions were all gathered together like fingers that made a fist. Drive is considered aggression today; I knew it then as purpose.”
These words give me hope, Bette Davis, a film buff’s fave.
If I feel this great about dancing in a handful of months, I should feel this great about everything in life happening in even less time. Because I want something, even if it’s simply to have a good time at a wedding where I don’t know anybody, it shouldn’t be seen as a bad thing. It should be seen as myself working towards something I want, and need, in my life.
Who said film stars don’t have great views on life?
Happy Saturday, and its only just the start of this wonderful weekend day. Make the most of it! I’ll update you more on the day, and let you in on a little fabulousness later on!
The fog lingers still, but it’s brought a different feeling with it this time around.
I have never woken up wanting to crawl back under the covers this badly before. I’m a person with a large personality. Picking myself up after a harsh beating of any sort? Usually not a problem. I have a pretty good level of self-confidence on any given day, but it was…so rough. I hit my alarm several times, even turned it off so when I dozed back into sleep, I wouldn’t have something to wake me up. The only reason I would wake up would be if I chose to in some way shape or form.
And I did. It was like walking with sand bags tied to my ankles all morning. What has gotten into me? Normally, I can put on a song, look at a picture, read a passage from any book just lying around and I’ll find the encouragement to continue on through the piss and the rain. Not today.
I tried smiling at myself in the mirror, and it resonating falsehood. I can’t smile. Not here. Not now.
But what’s the tragedy? Not having a plan for life after May 13th, the impending day of when my real life begins and my Academy life ends? If that is the underlying current here, I am going to call myself pathetic. It’s not that I don’t have a plan. I do. It may not be the ideal plan I had for myself when I first stepped foot on this campus.
This is most certainly not where I saw myself five years ago.
On the flip side, I wouldn’t give up any of the experiences I’ve had over that course of time. It’s a trying time, no one is doubting that. Head up, right? It’s just hard grasping everything that’s going to happen in the next 2 months.
I don’t feel like an adult. I don’t feel like I should be making adult decisions. I don’t feel like I should be able to live on my own. Where is all this confusion coming from? I’m supposed to be happy, independent, strong-willed, and full of bubbling sunshine!
Ha, now that is a thought that just brought smile to my lips. For the first time since I opened my eyes this morning.
“I think of myself as thirty-two. But when I was thirty-two, I felt a hundred.”
I’m very much in understanding of these words, Beatrice Wood, the Mama of Dada. This is what she said when she turned a hundred years old.
When you first step foot into your dorm room for the first time, piles of bags at your feet, and you stare into this empty, sterile room. You think, “This is the start of the rest of my life.” And it is, in a way.
Yet, here I am once again, starting at my apartment bedroom, my posters hung on the wall, clothes strewn across the back of my desk chair, piles of books and magazines and papers placed around the room so I have a clear walking path. I look into this room, and think almost the same thing. Except, now there’s a cloud in the back of my mind, saying “I hope this isn’t the rest of my life.”
But what do I have to look forward to?
Yes, I am wallowing. I’ve hit a ditch in my progress. The thought of the work I need to put into my job search in the upcoming weeks is a little daunting. In fact, I know how much effort I put into these things and it’s not a simple hour-long process. It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t have school work and other obligations sucking the air out of my lungs with every step, but hey, that’s life.
What can you do other than bitch and moan about the things making you angry at any given moment?
I could pour myself a drink, be at work in the next 20 minutes absolutely buzzed off my bottom, and see how things play out. But, that would be me heading towards rock bottom and there’s no reason why I should be near rock bottom. I should simply be on the decline, ready to rebound.
Watch. Tomorrow morning I will be so full of energy and zest for life I will annoy every single living being I encounter.
Someone just tell me to shut up already.
Please. I’m actually begging you to slap me, shake me around a little bit, and tell me my life is not even close to being labeled awful.
**I’d like to make a note right now**
I wrote the prior text before heading to my work shift which ended at 9:30 pm. I am now finishing up this post after consuming a huge, nasty burger and an extra side helping of fries. Currently, I’m staring down a box of triple deck oreos…both chocolate and vanilla creams sandwiched between the cookie pieces. They are going to be the death of me.
I’m not kidding.
My stomach already feels like it’s going to burst. Probably because of the deluxe burger I wolfed down about an hour ago. But, boy oh boy, it was delicious. I’ll pay for it tomorrow. I’m sure of it.
Anyways, I’ve allowed this day of self-pity to consume me, and I already feel myself starting to rise. Or it could be the gas beginning to build from this grease fest I annihilated. Either way, I’ll be better off when the sun comes up and a new day starts.
The Force is amazing like that. The important thing to remember through of all this…the Force is always with us. Even when we swear we’re completely alone in the world, it’s over our shoulder, whispering in our ear to keep going. It’s what it did for me. I thought I was heading down the dark side of the tunnel, but I got myself up, showered and out the door (which was something I *did not* want to do.)
But, here I am. Ready for the next day.
May the Force be with you all.
One of those “off” days.
Nothing was done out of the ordinary. I got up when my alarm rang, I took a shower, I did my hair and managed to put on clothes that matched in a decent manner. I brushed my teeth, I packed my lunch. Threw my notebooks in my oversized bag, grabbed my tennis racquet and my gym shoes and out the door I went. I had no coffee or real breakfast to speak of, just my usual granola bar and fruit strip to give me enough energy to make it through my dance and tennis classes.
Maybe it was the fog. Walking through the cloudy mist really gets to me….trying to pull onto the road and then suddenly, out of nowhere, comes a vehicle out of the mist. It’s really pretty watching it all unfold. In a very terrifying way, if you think about it too much.
Went through the course of my day with no real issues. Remembering I have a press release to write. Another column to put together. All normal things for me to be doing…and then I get to modern class. I figured I would be struggling with this current routine we’re learning, but today…I just feel like I nailed it. We went on to learn new sections of the piece, we increased the tempo, I figured out the foot steps to a part I was having difficulty with…everything just clicked. I was literally bouncing to the beat every time our music came on. Even our warm-up routines felt magical compared to others.
There is simply something about these past 24 hours that have held a specialness to them.
Want to know why I feel this way? The real reason why? I knew something was going to happen along these lines, and now I’m done trailing you on. New Guy texted me. Out of nowhere. No “hello” or “how are you?” Just a comment about how he feels he’s a huge dork because he was watching A Goofy Movie. Really? After a month of silence and you dropping the ball on us really being over by cutting off all communication, that’s all you have to say?
I’m ready to say it: I’m okay that we, New Guy and I, ended. I think I’m okay with my decision to let things play out without my interference from me.
Hearing him say that just really made me want to pop in the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movies and have a geekdom fest of my own. There is nothing wrong with having an inner geek. Okay, so some of us let it shine through our clothes more than others, but still? That’s what makes us a unique race full of vibrant and different people.
Really, though, when I saw the text was from New Guy, I wanted a picture of him pinned in front of me so I could throw sharpened pencils at his face. The nerve….I’m sorry, maybe I don’t have a right to be mad at him. If you know you aren’t interested in a girl, but you see her flirting with your friend, its plain mean to lead her on to think you want a real relationship with her. So telling her that the two of you are officially back on when you part ways for the night….and then never calling, texting, replying to her messages and when she does finally get a hold of you, it’s pretty clear things aren’t progressing the way they should. “Back on” is actually a tactic to keep the girl you called hot all night long away from your best friend and his winning flirtatious smile.
This might make me a mean person, but next time I’m in the same room as both of them, I am so working the room with his best friend. Even if that means taking the friend into the back alley and showing him a move or two…just seeing the two of us leave the room together will be enough to get his blood boiling. Even though we dated for only a few months, I know what gets his gears grnding…and girls he finds attractive having more luck
with his friend than him really does the trick.
I’m not just good-looks here. I have a brain or two.
“I do not write about nice people. I am not nice people.”
Oh, my inner bitch keeps coming out more and more with every passing day, Dorothy Allison, an autobiographical author.
This makes me want to get out there in the journalism world and write an amazing, world-rocking expose on the filthy lives of men reaching their 30s and how they believe they deserve it all without anybody questioning their motives. Yes, there is a simpler word of it: Bachelors.
These are the type of men who will always wonder why they are single…but everyone looking from the outside in would be able to tell them in a heartbeat. They’re shallow, bull-headed, surface-wading, disrespecting juveniles in a growing man’s body.
Oh, I’m sorry. Does the truth sting? Yeah, so does being trailed long like a little puppet on a string. Just….frustrating. I may have reached a point in my life where men are always going to be simply put, frusterating!
I’m no one’s puppet. Let that be a lesson to you.
I may not be the angel of anyone’s eyes. I may never be the angel of anyone’s eye. I may not be nice enough…and it’s all because I have this little thing called an ‘opinion.’
As Qui-Gin Jinn did say, “The life of a Jedi is not an easy one. It’s a hard life.”
Bring it on. I’m ready to learn.