Nothing Like a Blanket of Fog

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One of those “off” days.

See, the difference here is my day was special. This? This is just a terrible no good day.

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.

No joke. No additions. No lie. This is what the tree in our apartment "yard" looked like covered with the morning fog.

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.

Feel the rhythm. Feel the rhyme.

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 call foul on your lame break-up excuse!

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.

Do you remember the Ninja Rock? I sure do!

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.

If this is how I need to roll...

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.

Come here, boy. Let me show you a move 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.

It's better to speak your mind than be judged for the things you don't say.

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.

This ain't no ordinary angel.

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.”

What a badass.

Bring it on. I’m ready to learn.


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