Month: July 2012
Well, where to being with my weekend.
It started out with the best Friday imaginable. I got the phone call I’ve been waiting for since graduating from the Academy. Oh, yes. After dozens of applications and too many hours to count of energy being poured into cover letters, I can now say it has all successfully paid off.
That’s right. In the matter of a few week’s time, I will be assuming a position behind my new desk and working in the field of communications, marketing and event planning. The best part? I’m only working the occasional night and weekend, whenever an event is going on. In a few week’s time, I’ll be working normal business hours like the majority of the world. I’ll be able to plan evenings out with people…I won’t have to fight two different schedules if I happen to get asked out on a date…When I say I’m coming home for the weekend to visit, I can actually go home on the weekend to visit!
It’s the little things that are making me the happiest individual in the world right now. Well…I wouldn’t say the happiest, but at this current moment in time, two out of the three major areas of my life are successfully working.
In case you’re unsure of what three areas of life I’m talking about, I’m referring to the Social, Professional, and Love areas of my life. My professional life is preparing for take-off. I’m assuming my first Big Girl Job (with my own desk, computer, and everything! They’re even bringing in someone to adjust my chair and computer to the heights required for me to work in a healthy work environment. Like, holy crap! I’m getting my chair adjusted as a part of my job!)
My Social life is doing pretty decently. I’ve been reconnecting with my sister in new ways, which has been really nice. Especially with her wedding looking ever closer with each passing day. But, I’ve been catching up with friends, hanging out with old ones, and just living life the way its meant to be lived.
My Love life on the other hand…well, let’s just say it’s lacking. Incredibly lacking in every way possible. I don’t know where things went wrong, or even if things are wrong. The guy I’ve been seeing for a couple of months now and I clearly on two different pages, and I’m not quite sure how it got this far separated. Since we started seeing each other again up until now, we always texted each other a little something throughout the day. Nothing lovey-dovey or mushy or anything like that. Little tidbits of information, like MMA was a huge factor in defining Bane’s fighting style in The Dark Knight Rises, or how Peter Jackson might be turning The Hobbit into a three-part saga. Things we’re both interested in, and as we send it, we know the other person is going to appreciate it.
This past weekend was the first time we didn’t communicate at all. No phone call, no texts, no nothing. Even when I went home for a 3-day weekend for the Bachelorette Party, he texted me merely to say ‘Hope you’re having a good time.’ Something like that.
“It’s not that men fear intimacy…it’s that they’re hypochondriacs of intimacy: They always think they have it when they don’t.”
Lorrie Moore, a major American novelist, makes me think the worst in my current love life situation. I don’t know what else I can do here. Any major, drastic moves I make will either scare the poor guy away or he’ll really think I’m crazy and just write me off as the nut job he’ll never associate with again.
On top of everything, we’re now on a sort of unspoken radio silence. Why? I have no clue, and all I want to do is get it all out in the open. If we’re on the same page, then fine. But if I’m under the impression this relationship is going somewhere different from he’s thinking, we both need to be aware of that.
At this point in time, I don’t want us resorting back to dropping off the planet from each other for month’s on end like we’ve done in the past.
Only time will tell, however. A part of me didn’t want to give in and text him first, merely so I could see how long it would take him to text me, if he even decided to text me at all. But I gave in about an hour ago and shot one off asking how his weekend was and if he’d want to get together this evening.
Like I said, time will tell.
Other than the three ares of my life trying to figure themselves out, it’s been a pretty freaking spectacular weekend. I was in the best mood ever while at work on Saturday (where my main other coworker quit, so who got asked to pull a double with only 8 hours notice. THIS girl, of course) because I see the light at the end of the tunnel. In three weeks time, I will be starting my new job, and hopefully will never face the possibility of working on Christmas Day ever again.
Sunday turned out to be unbelievably gorgeous, so what else is there to do but hit up the beach on one of the hottest days of the year. We hit the sand, blew up a few kiddie sized inner tubes and floating mattresses, and floated in the lake for a solid hour and a half. Finally dragged ourselves out of the water to grab refreshments and a tropical frozen fruit bar (which was remarkably delicious). Laid on our towels for a tiny bit before flipping ourselves over on the floaties to go back out on the water.
At the end of the day and looking at my tan lines in the mirror, I can happily say I am well-done 🙂
Since I missed it due to my brain exploding in happiness, here’s my overdue reasons (besides the big obvious reason) why my Friday was so Fabulous:
Fabulous Summer Outfit:
Fabulous Video: The Dark Knight Rises meets The Lion King. Winner!
Fabulous Bit of Inspiration:
Fabulous DIY Project:
Fabulous Healthy Summer Recipe:
Fabulous Olympian to Watch:
Fabulous Superhero Obsession:
Fabulous Weekend Calorie Splurge:
Fabulous Packing List:
Fabulous Under Garments:
Make sure to tune and cheer for your country as the Olympics continue to unfold! I know I’ve found myself shouting at the TV on more than one occasion in the last three days, and I’m very upset you can’t live stream simply on the internet so I can watch while I’m at work here. Oh well, if the weather continues to be cloudy, I’ll be plopped on the couch cheering for the good ol’ USA.
The joys of an unexpected day off. What else is a girl to do when she has a handful of coupons in her hand, and nothing but a hair appointment scheduled for her day?
Why, yes, indeed, she does head to the mall.
Not to say that this wasn’t a planned out trip. It sort of was. I allow myself to enter the realms of Barnes and Noble at most once a month (unless something more dire comes up, but now that my time with the Academy is over, those needs are not so dire anymore.) I stopped to get my fill for the month of checking out new releases, new cookbooks, any self-help reads which catch my eye on occasion, any new Star Wars literature developments, any deals on Calvin and Hobbes comic books, and a whole slew of other things.
Trust me. My kids are going to hate the moments when mommy says, “Jump in the car, guys. We’re going to the bookstore.” It’s going to be like church when I was a kid.
There is only one thing on a kids mind when they are not allowed to run, jump, and scream at the top of their lungs (and you dare not disobey your parents. Back then, they were allowed to discipline me by giving me a small tap on my backside without fear of someone saying they were abusing me. Some kids need a good swat across the butt, if you ask me.)
Anyways, the bookstore is going to be their church. Hopefully they enjoy whatever their father does on Saturday afternoons. That way, they can bother him and I can have a few hours of quiet, blissful “me” time when the trials of parenthood become far to obnoxious.
Good thing I don’t need to worry about that any time soon.
One of my best deals of the day? Victoria’s Secret is having a handful of good sales happening at this time, and if you’re lucky enough to find something that works for you, you’re getting it for a steal of a price. I managed to walk out the door with a bottle of Gorgeous perfume (in the really cute old-school perfume bottle, too!) for $13.00. Originally, that same perfume, bottle and all, costs roughly $50.00.
Good steal? I think so. Every girl needs to smell good, too.
Snagged a pair of black heels from Maurices I’ve been eyeballing for a short while, especially when the pair of black heels I originally wanted to match a pair of brown ones I bought earlier in the spring are no longer offered on either the website or in store. And I have to get a move on with those zodiac charms before they no longer are offered. Tried to find them in the store, and they were nowhere to be found.
Thank goodness for credit cards. Sometimes.
“Success has many fathers. Failure is a mother.”
The thought-provoking words of Jeanne Phillips, thee advisor to America.
Stop and think about it. Where do we learn our best lessons? When we discover we failed at something. Not necessarily a massive, face-planting type of failure, but something where the outcome was not quite what we expected. I have lived through my fair share of failure in the last couple of months.
Yes, I had a huge crowning achievement in the month of May when I walked across the stage as I accepted my “diploma” from the Chancellor of my Academy, and taking my first real steps into the “real world” as they call it. Not only did I graduate, but I graduated with a double degree in five years. It’s sort of unheard of, but I did it nonetheless.
The sleepless nights, the nights drowned out in Rock Stars and other miscellaneous energy drinks, nights where I wake up with a small pool of drool coating the corner of my textbook, or going to bed only to set my alarm for 3 hours later so I can get up and continue with the horrendous paper whose topic seemed to resonate less and less with every word I typed, the nights where you successfully press ‘Save’ for the last time after reading more about religion in movies than you’d ever care to know on a regular basis.
Those nights were all worth it.
Now, how about the day of my last audition at my Academy? I was primed and ready to sing my heart out. I had my monologue down flat. I stepped onto the stage, introduced myself, and the first note played on the piano, I opened my mouth to let the notes fly….but nothing came out. The music stopped playing and I just stood there. I made the decision to move on to my monologue instead. I got out the first two lines, and then I jumped right to the end. When I know I’m screwing up, my hands start to shake uncontrollably from nerve impulses. When that started happening, I knew I was a goner. As I thanked the directors, I started to laugh and shake my head because I ended my entire audition package with, “That’s all for now because I seem to have forgotten the rest.”
Boom…Roasted on the very stage I wanted more than anything to perform on.
It came as no surprise when I looked at the callback list and my name didn’t appear on it. I would have peed my pants if I saw my name at all.
The thing is…I failed. What did I learn? Maybe I’m not cut out for auditioning for shows after all. Maybe my dream of being an actress isn’t going to happen. It caused me to take a step back and reevaluate where I’m headed in the next 5 years of my life, that’s for sure.
On top of that debacle, I came very close to have big girl jobs. I’ve made it to the final rounds of interviews, only to be told at the end that I’m absolutely perfect for the position, but they were going to give it to someone else.
But, it’s only pushed me to look harder to find where I’m going to be a perfect fit AND get offered the job. I’m getting interviews, so I know I’m someone worth looking at, and when I walk into that room for an interview, I own it.
Year’s of theater experience does come in handy, after all.
It’ all winding itself into one thing I’ve loved since Day 1 of my life: Summer. Summer is such a magical time. Maybe I won’t think so in 20 years or so, but right now, summer is pretty much my definition of freedom and ‘anything can happen’ mentalities. Look at what I’ve done in the last couple of months so far! Stories to tell, for sure.
Along with random shopping spree days, here’s a slew of reasons why I absolutely love summer above every other holiday:
– Cargo Capri pants (I’m not a huge shorts person, but I’m learning!)
– Cool Breezes (off the lake, especially!)
– Bike Rides
– Farmer’s Markets
– Birds Chirping
– Flip Flops
– Open Windows (such a soothing thing while you sleep)
– Jean Jackets
– Green Grass (under your bare feet!)
Tonight, I mark another thing off my summer bucket list by seeing the Dark Knight Rises with someone I’ve been seeing semi-seriously (if semi-seriously is even a thing when it comes to boys and girls going out together), but I’m pretty excited about it.
Not only will there be eye candy up on the screen, there will be eye candy beside me.
All in all, I’m a happy girl right now.
Christian Bale. You, sir, are quite the stand up gentleman, and my respect for you has flown over the moon over the past couple of days.
Here’s the scoop in case you haven’t heard: Yesterday, Bale and his wife made a stop in Aurora, Colorado to pay a visit to the victims of the movie theater shooting during the midnight premiere of The Dark Knight Rises. Bales visited patients in the hospital, and went to several makeshift memorials for those who were killed in this terrible act. The best part, other than this being a very honorable act on Bales’ part? He asked the Warner Brothers studio to not make an announcement of his presence in the town or let the media know what he was up to. They’d find out in due time, which is true, because here I am sharing photos with you and telling you what I know concerning his visit. But he specifically asked for his visit to not be turned into a publicity stunt. He wasn’t doing it for the attention. He was doing it because it was something he felt he needed to do, and I respect the hell out of him for that.
On a similar, but slightly different, note, I know I read somewhere that Warner Brothers would be donating a large sum of Dark Knight Rises weekend opening earnings to the victims family’s for this event. Very generous on their part, especially after I saw on the Today Show, the DKR bypassed the opening weekend figures of The Dark Knight by an alarming amount.
I’ve always liked the guy. Granted, I only knew him as an actor, but I loved his work. If I had to title his style, I’d call him a Method Actor. He’s one of the few who literally transforms his body to fit that of his character. If you don’t believe me, check out The Machinist or Rescue Dawn. Incredibly thin and to the point of where I want to throw a sandwich at the screen in the hopes of making him gain weight. Then, he goes from über thin to buffed-up fighting machine in movies like Batman Begins and The Dark Knight.
Remember, he’s not a lunatic. He’s doing this for his craft, and it paid off. Last year, he took home the Best Supporting Actor award from the 2011 Oscars for his part as a drug addict in The Fighter.
So, in a nutshell, I highly respected him for this acting work, and seeing this respective act come from someone with his star power. I’ve always liked him, but now, I love him.
Plus, he’s Welsh. What’s not to love about someone who can speak in one accent and switch it to something else entirely at the snap of my fingers? Dreamy is what it is.
“Only people who die very young learn all they really need to know in kindergarten.”
In light of what’s been happening as of late, I find the words of Wendy Kaminer, a limelighting lawyer, digging a little deeper than they usually would.
I haven’t offered comments on the Aurora theater shooting yet, and it’s taken a few days to let it all sink in. What causes my jaw to drop above anything else is where is happened. A movie theater? At a midnight showing? Really!? Nobody in their right mind takes a series of weapons and tear gas into a family friendly environment and just lets hell loose on them for no reason at all? I don’t think this type of thing should happen anywhere, but of all places, a movie theater.
Pretty soon, not a single place in this world is going to be safe. Not for adults and not for children, and that saddens my heart. One of my favorite places to go when I need some alone time is to the movie theater. I’m a huge movie buff, and there are certain films that come along where all I want to do is watch it on the big screen on my own. I don’t want my friends with me to offer their commentary throughout the movie. I don’t want a sibling or parent asking me what the hell is happening in the storyline every other minute. I simply want to sit back, watch, drink my slushie, and enjoy getting lost in another’s persons vision for a few hours.
When September 11 happened, I thought it wasn’t going to affect me. Sad as it is to say, it wasn’t the first time a plane had been hijacked in the history of my lifetime. It was the first time in my lifetime a hijacked plane was used as a terrorist tool. I didn’t notice its effect on me until I myself had the opportunity to travel to Washington DC and to New York City within a couple of months of each other. Upon boarding the plane, I know I gave everyone a long, hard look. Could they be a terrorist? Could they be hiding something in their 3-inch toothbrush that could be used to take over the plane?
I didn’t voice these concerns out loud, but they were in the back of my mind.
It really got to me when I was in NYC, standing on the highest floor of the Empire State Building, looking down at the city’s brilliant lights, and I looked up to the sky to see flashing lights traveling very quickly across the night skyline. Airplanes. The first thought on my mind wasn’t, “Oh, how beautiful.” No. Instead, I thought, “What if that plane flew itself into the Empire State Building?” Not exactly a wonderful thought a first-time visitor to the Empire State Building should be having. Same goes for Washington DC. I shouldn’t be thinking a terrorist is going to take over whatever monument I’m visiting that day every time I see someone looking sketchy.
No where feels safe, and it’s a terrible realization the world is beginning to face.
But, we can’t let evil stand in the way of how we live our lives. We need to be better than those who hide in the shadows and act in the dark. We, as Jedi, have to walk the straight and narrow, and do what we can to make these places we once felt safe still feel safe despite the workings of those who delve in the darker side of life. My heart goes out to the victims of this tragedy. I can’t even begin to imagine the pain they are going through, especially those who lost a loved one.
As usual, I offer words meant to uplift the spirit as we hit the halfway mark of the week:
– You’ve got what it takes.
– Add determination to a dream and you get destiny.
– You make the world a more beautiful place just by being you.
– It’s time to bump “relax” to the top of your to-do list.
– You have too many good qualities to count.
– Each new day comes with small joys just waiting to be noticed.
– Life is still wonderful. And so are you!
As Harvey Dent famously said in The Dark Knight,” The night is always darkest right before the dawn.”
We will get past this darkness, and we will prevail. That’s the Jedi in me talking.
May those who have fallen become one with the light of the Force, and may the Force be with you all.
Last night while out to dinner of $5.00 burgers and an extra platter of onion rings with my sister (a rare occurrence, I know, and yes, it was totally delicious. Gotta love the week before Aunt Flow comes for a visit!), we stumbled upon a topic I would have marked in my mind as forgotten except for my sister’s reminder of how much we used obsess over this topic. The topic in question is in regards to a particular athletic endeavor. Which one you might ask?
Let me tell you in two words…
I know the exact reason why the sport has fallen off my radar as of recently. There’s no longevity in any of the skaters anymore.
Sure, one wins a major competition, she moves on to the next, maybe comes in second place, and then she’s done. You never hear from her again. Take the case of Sarah Hughes. She placed 2nd or 3rd in a lot of competitions leading up to the Olympics in Salt Lake City. But, then, on a total fluke (this is my opinion and my opinion only, mind you), she wins the gold medal. Next thing you know, she’s declaring herself retired from the sport at 19 years old and she is no longer competitively skating.
What the hell was all those years of early morning training sessions, hardly a social life, a limited diet, and more training sessions for if you are retiring at 19. Hello! Get back out there, skate your ass off, qualify for the next Olympics, and defend your title! The gold medal is the highest honor one can receive in any sport. Yeah, a fluke of a day where the top contenders both have an off day on the ice may be the reason why you won, but still. It’s a freaking gold medal that no one can ever take away from you or the history books.
There is one figure skater who always captured my heart, and she still does to this very day: Michelle Kwan.
Salt Lake City was meant to be her year. After winning the silver at Nagano, she was primed and ready to sweep the ice with her style and grace, only to be caught off-guard by whatever it was on that day. She ended up walking away with the bronze medal. Still without a gold to her name.
Kwan is a lot like me in my current trend of life. Let me explain…she prepared her whole life for one moment, a moment that I’m sure she dreamed about all during her years of skating competitions, training sessions, and sleepless nights in her room. Throughout the triumphs and tears of her skating career, she had an ultimate goal. Something every athlete hopes to achieve, and that is the Olympic gold medal and to be the best of the best. For a few moments, anyways. Winning the gold medal may not have been her prime focus, but at one point or another, it was a goal of hers in which to achieve.
Instead, at both Olympics, she won the silver and the bronze. In 2006, when the Olympics were in Italy, she had the go-ahead to be on the American team after undergoing several physical evaluations and petitioning her rightful spot on the team due to a few untimely injuries. But, it wasn’t meant to be. Right before the Olympics were to start, Kwan withdrew due to the very injury she worked so hard to heal. Shortly after that, she retired herself from the sport of competitive figure skating.
I read the announcement on Yahoo! News of all places, and I just sat there. After screaming at the computer screen, of course.
“People ask me how it feels to lose the gold. I tell them, I didn’t lose the gold; I won the silver.”
Inspiring words I need to remember more often than not, spoken by the Olympic figure skater herself. Michelle Kwan: You brought such grace and beauty and spunk to a sport. She literally oozed passion each and every time she took the ice. I literally held my breath whenever she took the ice, and that’s saying something.
The last time I held my breath for a sporting event? Probably when Melanie Oudin took out Maria Sharapova in the 2009 U.S. Open.
With the summer Olympics taking place in London in the not-so-distant future, it’s hard not to recount all the times you fell in love with an athlete or athletic performance. I’m not going to lie. The winter Olympics tend to get my blood flowing a little faster than the summer events, but they are still thrilling regardless.
While sprinting, high jumping skateboarding, long distance running, and the high bar are all athletic endeavors in their own personal rights, there is only one sport that comes to mind which combines the mastery of gracefulness along with the technical difficulties of jumps, spins, turns, and sometimes (but usually in the men’s division) full-front body flips. That, my friends, is figure skating.
While lightsaber dueling and tennis also bear a trace of mastering technical skills. Not just anyone can pull out a slice serve on the first try, and if they do, they don’t understand what it is they are actually doing. The moment they stop to think about the mechanics of their natural motions, they lose whatever power they had. One doesn’t simply pick up a lightsaber and know how to use the different forms of lightsaber combat, be it the basic form of Shii-Cho or the very advanced and hard to master Form 7 Juyo. The moment you stop to dissect the motions of your lightsaber, you lost the power within, too.
Mental tricks. Killers, I tell you.
The sad realization I’ve come to? I’ve lost interest in figure skating a lot compared to what I used to dedicate in terms of time to the watching of this particular sport. When I was a teenager and my sister and I still lived at home (back on the farm!), entire Saturday afternoons were spent watching both the men’s and women’s programs. Short programs, long programs, free skates, exhibition skates…we watched all of it. We commented on everything. The outfits, the songs, the movements, the jumps, the competition, the scores skater’s received, and the commentary of the commentators themselves.
By the way, one of thee most annoying things of watching figure skating, or any sport for the matter, is when the commentators feel the need to say something about everything little thing. Can we watch the program in silence and appreciate what is happening before us? Even if you’re watching it live, it’s annoying to hear what they have to say duringthe performance. Just shut up already! I don’t care what she had to say three competitions ago about this particular move! Not at the moment she’s executing it, anyways!
I wonder if Scott Hamilton is still commentating these days…It’s been a long time since I’ve watched a full-length figure skating competition on TV. I don’t recognize anybody’s names anymore. My own fault, yes, since I’ve stopped keeping tabs on the sport and its competitors, but at the same time, no one has captured the magic evenly remotely close like Michelle Kwan did. She’s a legend in her own right.
I suppose I could aim to be like her, even if I’m always coming in second place. I can only imagine how she wrestled with herself for weeks, months, years (I’m sure!) following the 1998 Nagano Olympics. Kwan should have taken the gold that year. Hands down. While little Miss Tara Lipinski had a spring to her jumps, she did not hold an artistic candle to Kwan’s performance that night. I will never forget watching Kwan break into tears the moment her music stopped and she struck her final pose of her long program.
I didn’t understand it at the time. I was a youngster myself, and as I watched her burst into tears, I remember asking my sister why Kwan was so sad. She hadn’t fallen once during her program. So, why was she crying? My sister answered me, but what she said, I don’t remember. But, now I know.
It was simply a beautiful performance. One for a lifetime, and she knew just how good she was.
I get chills just thinking about it.
Michelle Kwan has the heart of a champion. She will always be a champion in my heart.
In case you’ve forgotten just how damn good an ice skater she was, I’m leaving you with her Nagano performance. Enjoy, and be reminded of those who find beauty in the world and dedicate their passion to that beauty.
And because I like her so much and can’t resist, here’s her performance from the 2005 National competition.
Anakin had it wrong.
The feeling of sand is wonderful. There is nothing better than pulling out a book or magazine in the dead of the heartless winter season and having a small pile of sand fall into my lap. It’s not too convenient when you’re laying comfortable in your nice, warm bed with the blankets wrapped perfectly around yourself and suddenly there’s a mess of grainy particles now mixed among your small piece of heaven.
But I still love finding it. I love finding those small reminders of summer every now and then.
Especially when its sand.
There is nothing I love more than a beach day. Sometimes its only for a few hours. Heck, sometimes it’s only for a few minutes because not every beach day is a day is paradise. The flies decide to bite. It’s hot on top of the hill, but once by the water, the wind chills you to the bone. There’s not a level piece of land without a crap ton of debris laying everywhere. Too many people screaming along with their children under the age of 6. The sand is so scorching hot on your feet that it literally hurts to walk so you have to run in the hopes of saving your feet (at least until you reach the water’s edge and can walk on the already wet sand.)
Anakin Skywalker had it wrong. Sand is not rough and coarse. While it does get everywhere, I tend to like it that way. Because if you leave the beach covered in sand for one reason or another, that only means one thing when you finally reach home. It means you can take a cold shower.
Hearing the words cold shower gives me all sorts of crazy ideas. I’ll keep most of them to myself.
This is the first weekend where I haven’t had a full day off, and on top of not having a full day off to collect my thoughts from the craziness of working the evening hours and trying to live like a normal individual, I have to return to work for a mandatory work meeting. From what I gathered from other individuals at this place of establishment, it’s basically going to consist of us being fed snacks while watching a series of training videos.
It’s seriously the weirdest weekend of my life, and if I could fast forward through this meeting.
Basically, summer makes me feel a lot of things, and according to an article I read in an old issue of Glamour magazine, summer makes us feel 10x better about ourselves in a variety of ways. We feel healthier, we feel happier, we actually look better (from all the sunshine and extra water we’re drinking because of the soaring hot temperatures.)
We’re also feeling sexier in every aspect of the word.
What can I say? Nothing looks better than a white bikini and a nice bronze tan. (I know a few guys who would agree with me on this one.)
“Old people do have sex and they have it a lot. They’re just doing it a little more slowly, which, come to think of it, is not a bad thing.”
Those are the revealing words from Estelle Getty, one of our beloved Golden Girls. They do say it gets better as we age. I wouldn’t know. I’m not yet beyond the age of 50. I’ll let you know when it happens, and weigh in on the subject at hand.
But, in all seriousness. It’s kind of funny how this season instills both a fear of one’s body and emboldens the need to show it off. As I was walking around the beach this afternoon, not only did I know I looked good (I know a thing or two about picking out the right swimsuit for your body type), but I was also berating myself for not working harder on slimming my thighs down, or mentally tallying how many more reps I’d need to add to my arm workout in order to start seeing muscle definition results.
My favorite part of the article I read from Glamour? We attract more men without even realizing we’re doing it. It’s easier for a man to find you attractive in the summer months. Why? We’re practically running around half-naked by choice.
Disagree with me? I’m sorry, but I’m most likely to be found wearing a skirt or sundress of some sort in these hot temps instead of a full-on pantsuit. More skin = more double takes = more ooh la-la for all involved.
I thought it was interesting logic.
Women aren’t alone in this. We all tend to feel a touch more adventurous in the summer months. There’s just something very invigorating in the air, pushing us to take that extra step, to try something entirely new.
Which brings me to my New Day Sunday. I discovered these things back in the month of June (yeah, I’m a touch behind), but trying something new is not something you set on deadline.
Produce:Corn on the Cob
Bakery:Coffee Cupcakes with Glitter Frosting
Canned Goods:Pork n’ Beans
Breakfast/Cereal:French Vanilla Flavored Coffee Grounds
Meats: Steak on the Hibachi Grill
Dairy:Potato Topper Sour Cream
Frozen Foods: Karmel Sutra Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream
Beverages:Woodchuck Hard Cider
Toiletries:Got 2 B Power-derful Hair Gel
Household:Marker Menu Board
Pet:Dog Bed made out of an End Table
Snacks: Dutch Crunch Steak-Flavored Chips
Misc: Heating/Cooling Eye Mask
Maybe something on here sparked your interest to start your week. It’s hard to believe the weekend is just about to see itself close. I do enjoy my weekends, even when I work more than half the time. What can I say…A woman has to do what a woman has to do.
And that, these days, is to earn a living.
Well…enough of a living to get by with the essentials and a few nights out with beer and friends thrown into the mix.
Not that I don’t appreciate the compliments. I really do. I probably appreciate them more in this state of being than when I actually put a lot of physical effort into my appearance before going anywhere. When you put more than an hour into your appearance, you better dang well get a compliment or two, otherwise what in the hell were you doing with your time?
Here’s how this afternoon went: I get out of the shower, blow dry my hair, straighten it…the usual routine when I’m going about a normal working day. I had the vision of what I wanted to wear to work all figured out in my noggin. I would wear my gray pencil skirt with my emerald-green satin top (the one with the black polka-dots and the black sash right under the bust), and my trusty black pumps. I slide on the skirt and everything is looking good. It’s when I slide on the top I start to feel less than stellar.
For one, my boobs must have grown 10x since the last time I wore this particular top. The black sash which is supposed to go underneath my bustline? It didn’t go under my bustline. It went right across the middle of my chest, cutting my twins in half. If you’ve ever seen this done to your set of twins, you know how highly unattractive a look it is. So, the logical thing? I pull the top down, hoping to adjust it to its proper place. It wouldn’t budge. So, I reached inside the V-neck of this shirt and adjust myself with my hands, thinking maybe this would do the trick.
Boy, did it ever. I suddenly had cleavage like never before. Sooooo not appropriate for the place I needed to be at in less than 20 minutes.
What’s a girl to do other than to rip off the green shirt with the black polka-dots and tear through her closest for the next best option for her attire? I put on my favorite gray short-sleeved suit coat…it made me look wide through the middle. I put on my favorite purple multi-tiered layered camisole with my black sweater shrug…it made my look pregnant. Tried to put together a simple all-black outfit…except all of them required to wear heels and with a wedding happening at my workplace, I wasn’t about to run a wedding marathon in the high heels I would have to wear with these particular ensembles.
Finally I reached the point where I had to put on some clothes or be really late for work. So, I grabbed the first two things I saw that matched each other, slid on my flats, and dashed out the door.
Rewind a little bit here, too. Before the whole “what do I wear?” debacle, I was complaining to my roommate how I have boring hair. Boring in the sense that I always wear it the same way. It’s either half-up with bobby pins to get my bangs out of my face, all the way up into a ponytail to get the hair off my neck, or it’s down in a simple straight ‘do. It’s so boring!, I explained. I need to learn how to put my hair up in fun ways.
Like, some girls can do a successful messy bun.
I can’t do that.
Some know how to braid the front parts of their hair in fun ways, and loop them around to their ponytail/bun up do.
I can’t do that.
Others know how to roll the ends of their hair up and around so they have this rolled/coiled look going on. Very classy looking, in my opinion.
I can’t do that.
So, as I stared at my lifeless hair after straightening it for the one millionth time in my life, I knew I wanted it off my neck. It was a warm day, and I was already sweating just thinking about the prep work I’d be doing once I arrived at work. My solution? The half-updo it was. My roommate saw me, and remarked, “We decided on boring again today, huh?”
Apparently, I’m a sweaty AND boring blob of a person. It doesn’t help that a giant M&M cookie is staring me in the face right now.
“One seeks new friends only when too well-known by old ones.”
In this instance, when contemplating the words of Madame de Puisieux, the French epigrammist, I know I need to find new friend with not just good hair. They need to have GREAT hair, and I need to find out their tricks of the trade.
Let’s be real here. It’s not just with their hair….it’s with their overall look. How they put simple, yet elegant outfits together in the blink of an eye and simply by pulling things from their closest. How they step out of the shower, let their hair do whatever the hell it wants, run a squirt of some magical hair gel through the palms of their hands and over their scalp, and voila! Magnificent hair!
I want to have hair like that!
I used to think my hair was capable of doing two things, and these things dictated the way I would do it. 1.) I would get in the way of my vision and could be detrimental to whatever I happened to be doing at that moment. If I’m returning a fast spin serve on the tennis courts, or sketching a nearby tree, or people watching at the park, or attempting to read a sign while driving down the highway so I don’t get lost in the middle of a giant freaking city. I could be in the middle of a massive lightsaber fight, but wouldn’t you know it? My hair gets in my face, I can’t respond to a move, and I’m suddenly without an arm for the rest of my life.
All because of my stupid head of hair.
Mostly because of my athletic tendencies, I always wore my hair up and out of my face. Plus, it’s really easy to do your hair fresh out of the shower. Especially when its a 100+ degree day in the summer time. Have you ever milked cows in a sweltering barn with your hair falling in tumbles down your back and shoulders? Yeah, I didn’t think so.
The second thing my hair is capable of doing? Seduction. If done and played with correctly, a woman’s hair can be the gateway to a man’s bare instincts and animatistic tendencies. You can drive a man wild just by the way you do your hair, or simply by sweeping your hair off your neck, revealing the vulnerable and lovely nape of the neck. Flirting with one’s hair….it’s still a technique I’m working on. I don’t think you can hate your hair 350 days out of the year and have this technique mastered.
On top of everything else today, I tied 60-some blue satin bows on the back of chairs needed for this wedding’s ceremony, and people only sat in them for 30 minutes. Once the ceremony was over, the chairs with my decadent bows were abandoned.
Ah, the fruits of ones labors.
I hope your weekends are going just as awesome as mine. Minus the feeling like a blob part.
I don’t wish that upon anyone.
While everyone else was out to the theater’s to watch the midnight showing of The Dark Knight Rises, I walked in to see a different movie which has been garnering great critical praise: Brave.
Brave introduces us to the first Disney Pixar princess, and I have to say, I fell in love with her. Probably because I could relate to her in every possible way. But, I fell in love with that fiery red hair, those dazzling clear blue eyes, and her sassy Irish tongue. She is a girl I’d be friends with, even if mostly we wanted to kill each other.
It was a traditional story of sorts: A young woman born into the royal family of her country (in this case, Scotland) is slightly be forced by the powerhouse mother of her’s to give up on the way she’s been living her life (carefree and wildly unacceptable by princess standards) to assume her title, but not before being betrothed to the one of the 1st born sons of the fellow Scottish clans which make up their great kingdom.
Her name is Princess Merida, and she is your typical tomboy…if tomboy was even a title back in the day of the Scottish brogue living in giant stone castles. She’s one of the boys. No, scratch that. She’s better than all of the boys put together! Merida is my kind of gal. Her bow is the most prized possession she could ever own, and when her mother forbids her from ever shooting a single arrow ever again, I honestly felt my heart-break. It’s the same as my mother telling me to go put my lightsaber away and never speak of Star Wars again.
It would be unheard of, and I most certainly would rebel.
It’s takes a strong spirit to be able to look both your parents in the face and say, “I’ll be shooting for my own hand.” Basically, no man is ever going to be good enough for me until I decide he is, so back off and I’ll choose my lifetime lover when I’m darn good and ready!
It’s going to take quite the special man to steal this heart of mine to being with, anyways.
“A grown woman should not have to masquerade as a girl in order to remain in the land of living.”
I love these words spoken by Germaine Greer, a screed writer. I hate this idea that the older we get in age, the more “respectable” we have to be as women.
Now, let me get one thing straight. I believe a woman should possess a certain amount of qualities. All the great ones do, anyways. She should be charming, know how to dress for her body type, have “her” particular scent/perfume picked out, have an opinion on one (if not more) major issue of her current times, be able to laugh at herself, have a drink of choice when out with the ladies, know what she likes in bed, and most importantly, not give a damn about what people think of her when she’s purely being herself.
Why should all these things change once we hit a certain age? Age ain’t nothing but a number, right? (When it comes to most living situations…not all dating situations, however, but that’s a different topic for a different time.)
The reason I like this so much? The mother in Brave is a criminal of Greer’s words. She passes herself off as one thing in order to be accepted as another. In all honesty, she gives up on her girlish nature because she’s worried about what’s considered “acceptable.” Yes, she is a queen of a larger and powerful nation. But she also has a daughter who is bound to follow a different path than she.
Could you imagine if Kate Middleton tried to walk down the same exact path and Princess Diana or Queen Elizabeth herself? My mind can’t even handle thinking about it. Yes, Kate Middleton entered the role of Duchess very gracefully and with much dignity, despite a few minor mishaps and scandals along the way. But even she had her “wild” days. Umm…the infamous see-through dress that she modeled in her friend’s fashion show where Prince William supposedly leaned over to his friend and whispered, “Kate is really hot.”
Or something like that.
Regardless, I don’t think our current Duchess of Cambridge gave up that daring and sassy side of her life once William became interested in her, and if she did, I may lose a tiny bit of respect for her.
Going back to Brave, the mother does come to realize it’s okay for girlish tendencies to be held onto. They make us who we are. If I went home and didn’t jump around on the round hay bales like I’ve done for 15+ years of my life, my family might think I’m insane. If I still didnt’ run around in my High School Musical t-shirt when it came time for me to put my pajamas on, they’d wonder if I hit my head on something and if brain damage of a result, even with the shirt now being a touch too small and with it showing off my bellybutton.
Just the other weekend, I came running down the stairs for coffee with my sisters before getting ready for the day, and I came downstairs in little booty shorts and a tight baseball tee. Hey, when I’m asleep, I like knowing if I have to jump out of bed I have clothes on without fear of them getting caught on anything as I dash out the door! (It’s a Jedi thing.) But, my oldest sister, who is 11 years ahead of me in life, looks at me and instantly says, “Go put some clothes on!”
I just laughed at her and said, “If I’ve got the body now, I’m going to show if off while I got it.”
The point is, I really hope I can hold on to this attitude. Not an attitude of carelessness, but of one that bares the air of “I don’t give a F*ck what you think of me.” Yes, it is easier said than done, but if I can hold on to that as I enter the older decades of my life, what a wise Jedi I am determined to become.
As always, it is Friday! Hallelujah and not a day too late! Although I don’t have a forseeable day off in sight, I am ready to have a few lax days to just get to be me for a while. I have big Saturday night plans….with myself. Sharing my Fabulous Friday’s with out is one of the ways I like to hold on to my younger self, while at the same time, starting to meld it with the maturing adult I hope I’m becoming. There are moments that call for a certain level of maturity. This is something I understand.
But there are also moments where you should be so blown out of proportion silly that no one can look at you straight without seriously considering how much alcohol you’ve consumed (PS – The big secret? You haven’t had a single drop!)
Here’s my Fabulous Friday —
Fabulous Midsummer Material:
Fabulous Summer Polish Shade:
Fabulous Start to the Morning:
Fabulous Reason for an Iphone:
Fabulous Accessory Every Girl Needs:
Fabulous Turn On:
Fabulous Crush to Share with your Mom:
Hope you don’t get too crazily out of control this evening, and remember, no one likes to see you running around with your pants off. Unless you’re at the lake. Then, by all means, if you’re taking your pants off, at least jump in the water.
Keep that inner girl fighting alive in everything you do. Mine always thought she was a Jedi, a warrior of sorts. Now it’s up to me to discover what I’m fighting for.
Being a typical girl, I was pinning today. Whilst pinning, I came across a picture of Jennifer Lawrence wearing a dress that could only be described as a modern-day, non Hunger Games costume, gown. It really made her look like the Girl On Fire, outside of the actual Hunger Games setting, I mean.
In case I haven’t previously mentioned it, Jennifer Lawrence in my new muse. She has inspired me to imagine her type of character in any story I’ve started to throw together in the last few years. Since I’ve seen her in X-Men First Class, Winter’s Bone, and now, the Hunger Games, I’ve fallen head over heels in love with her.
Add her to my list of celebrities I’d change my sexual orientation for if the opportunity presented itself. Along with Ms. Lawrence, Kate Winslet, Meryl Streep, and Kristen Wiig top that list. It’s far-fetched, but you never know. I’m sure you all have your lists of males and female crushes, too. So, no passing judgement here!
Anyways, as I attempt to get back on track with my screenplay, I have envisioned Ms. Lawrence in the lead role from the moment I started conceptualizing and fleshing the plot out on paper. While I would agree the roles allowing her to emerge on the Hollywood scene have been similar in particular ways (they know how to hunt for themselves, a younger sibling(s) to care for, must be the man of the family but not by choice, independent, fearless, and a small disdain for needing to rely on men to care for her…and so much more.) In short, she’s a bit of a modern-day warrior in her films.
I can’t stress enough how happy I am when the Hunger Games came along when it did.
I’m going to be quite blunt here. I hated the Twilight movies. I hated everything about them. The acting was poor, the characters were stagnant, the storyline was only remotely interesting, and Kristen Stewart’s face held the same monotone expression throughout the entire film. I didn’t feel transported by the story at all. When I go to the movies, I go to escape.
With Twilight, I was highly aware I was sitting in a movie theater (an afternoon matinée, by the way. There is no way I’m spending money on a full ticket for THAT film), watching a fully grown man sparkle like a cheaply made tiara in the sunlight. Not attractive in the least!
But the main reason why I hated these movies so much? The female lead character aka Bella.
What did she have going for her other than the sickly twisted love affair with both a werewolf and a vampire that wanted nothing more than to bite the shit out of her neck for her blood. There’s a scene early on in the film when Bella meets Edward for the second or third time. He’s staring at her from across the chemistry room, but he’s not just staring at her. In fact, I’m sure some inappropriate activity is happening in his pants while he’s staring at her. Gross, I know.
Fans of the Twilight series would argue. He was attracted to her…No, scratch that. He was resisting the smell of her scent…He wanted to go over to her and bite her like a vampire would…He was merely catching whiff of her scent and simply fought every fiber in his body to resist flying across the room to devour her blood supply.
Number 1: ew. Number 2: can we say desperate? Number 3:how freaking original? Not!
I maybe wouldn’t rag on Bella so much if she wasn’t so, oh how do I say this…? If she wasn’t so pathetic. Yep, that’s the word I use to describe Ms. Bella. She is pathetic. Her boyfriend breaks up with her. What does she do? She curls up into a ball in her bed and does absolutely nothing for 3 months. Nothing. In the book, no words were written for her in the months following Edwards’ absence. She literally wastes away in her bed for months because a boy told her he didn’t want to see her anymore. With one of the lamest excuses in the book, he tells her it’s too dangerous to be together.
So, the obvious conclusion is to lay in bed and weep about it. For months.
A week, even a couple of weeks, sure. Alright. He was the love of your life. I can’t understand trying to heal a broken heart. Hello? I’ve been there! But I didn’t lie around and mope for days on end because someone broke my heart.
“The needs of a society determine its ethics.”
The wise words of Maya Angelou, the famed author of Caged Bird.
Katniss needed to survive being thrown into a literal hell hole where she had a 96% chance of being killed. She adapted. She didn’t crawl into a hole and mope about her misfortune or contemplate all the different ways she could die. Even when the Careers found her (and remember, she had a pretty major leg injury, too), she didn’t start bawling and begging for her life. She turned in the other direction and ran. And when she could no longer run due to said injury, she did the next best thing; she climbed a tree to where no one could touch her.
When she knew she had to make a move against the Careers, did she continue to run? NO! She actually ran towards them and infiltrated their “safe” zone.
The only time she did have a breakdown was after Rue’s death, and rightfully so. She lost someone she dared to care about despite their situation. But, did Katnisscontinue to have her crying fits over Rue? While she missed the cute and wily little girl, she kept her mind where it needed to be.
While Bella and Katniss were in different worlds, their situations were not so different. Katniss had her love woes. Peeta or Gale? Her decision wasn’t so simple given she was thrown into a modern-day gladiator’s ring.
What was Bella doing?
She was purposely putting herself in danger. Not to help a fellow tribute, or to take out those who will not think twice about slitting your throat to win the game.. No, Bella was putting herself in danger merely to hear Edward’s voice.
GET A LIFE, BELLA!
If you like Twilight, fine. I’m sure you have your reasons. Just like I have my reasons for siding with Katniss Everdeen far more than Bella Swann.
My answer will be the same no matter when you ask me.
Moral of the story? Find a real, strong female role model to look up to.
Princess Leia always comes to mind. I mean, she did take on a leadership role within the Rebel Alliance against the darkest evil force known to the universe.
What’s the greatest thing Bella Swann ever did?
She got married.
Tis the summer spirit. You know why I say that? On a whim, I was looking at my schedule and realized I had nothing planned for a span of three days. No projects, no work, no nothing. What else would I do on these unscheduled days, other than maybe go to the beach and get my tan on harder than before.
It would have been an acceptable use of my time. I even could have caught up on that stack of books on my night table or that stack of magazines lining my bedroom floor….
OR I could swing myself down to a town and see a handful of friends I haven’t seen in (after a small time of thinking and calculating) two years! These friends were my sanity chamber when I was in my second year at the Academy. It was a no-brainer decision.
GO SEE YOUR FRIENDS!
And wouldn’t you know it…Fate decided to lay a lucky hand in my favor, and they also had time off in conjunction with my time. So, behold! The Journalism Gals were back together again. We had dinner, drinks, lots of laughter, and even more catching up on each other’s lives. It was utterly delightful! Who am I kidding….I was freaking psyched to see these girls. All of us are so different, and yet, so very alike.
Isn’t that normally how you find friends?
So, that’s where I’ve been. Now, I’m writing to you about it. Not going to lie…I’m not too motivated to do this. But, just like working out, you have to force yourself to do it, otherwise you’re never going to see results. When I started this blog, I told myself I would do it for at least a year…if I hated it a year later, then I would quit.
Thing is, I don’t hate doing it. I just hate starting and forcing myself to do it.
“On a good day I think I’m a relatively sane person with a few frayed wires. On a bad day I think, ‘Just lock me up.'”
Oh, how truthfully you speak interview icon, Rosie O’Donnell. I’ve been called a fair amount of names in my life. Insane has been among them.
However, purely sane people never truly see what is it they’re after or how to get there. It takes an ‘outside the box’ thinker to really strive and reach for something in a new way. I guess you could say the Jedi are insane. As Han Solo would say, it just some “hokey religion.”
But, you were proven wrong, weren’t you, Han?
I’ve gotten myself in my fair share of crazy, insane situations as well. How else do you explain getting a text at 11:30 pm at night from New Guy (remember him?!), whom I haven’t seen since his lame attempt to “get back together with me” at the bar a week after he broke it off with me, all because I was talking to his best friend while waiting for the bartender to ring up my tab? Yeah, that was a ways back…and we’ve rarely spoken since then. His best friend and I have since had our encounters as well, but New Guys’ friend also never tried to keep me to himself.
It’s the dating game, boys. Once you say you’re out, I’m not waiting around. I have bigger fish to fry.
Anyways, I’m knocking back a well-deserved and specially appreciated celebratory beer with my best friend (I’ve been having a small personal crisis for a few weeks, and it was resolved yesterday, so we were celebrating the lifting of this hellish time from my shoulders), and my phone buzzes. I’m thinking its our mutual friend wanting to come join us. Lo and behold, its New Guy. He’d seen somewhere (or I had mentioned it to him, I don’t quite remember) that I was in town, and if I wanted to come hang-out and crash in his bed after my drinking was said and over with, I was to let him know.
So, here’s me, celebrating the fact a small major crisis in my life had been averted, and I’ve had little to eat and plenty of beer in my tummy. Let’s just say, the alcohol was already going to my head.
There’s a reason I don’t drink a lot of dark beer!
Anyways, I fill in my friend of what’s going on, and she starts making up conversations we’d have if I went over to “hang out.” It didn’t take a brain scientist to know he wanted me over there for one reason and one reason only: to get down and dirty.
I wasn’t having it.
So, I asked him if my friend could come with me. This sparked New Guy’s interest. Two girls + him +his apartment + his bed = a very good night for him.
Or so he thought.
A small white life, perhaps, but when he responded with such liveliness and excitement, I told him, sure, we could do that. I’ve had enough to drink…if he didn’t mind my friend being a guy (in case you didn’t follow that, the white lie was my friend being a dude.)
This small (false) fact had the desired effect. His excitement instantly dropped, and he instantly seemed less interested…unless I came over by myself. Then, “we could still have a good time.”
There was no way I was going over there in the state of my condition. Who knows what he may have tried?
Needless to say, I had a small bit of fun at his expense, but after the way he ended things with me, I’m okay with it. He deserved a small smack to his ego, anyways.
That is just one of the mere adventures I had over the past three days, and I’m sure the rest will come out in the upcoming week. But here is one thing I’m long overdue on, and it’s why my Friday was so Fabulous. I really want to share them with you, so here we go. My Fabulous Friday (even if it is majorly overdue!):
Fabulous Decor Idea:
Fabulous Treat: Find the reciple here!
And now, it’s time for me to wrap things up. I shall share more with you tomorrow. Right now, a sandwich, a Vitamin Water, and a cozy chair with a magazine are calling my name.
I’m a sucker for staying cozy at home.
The lovely website I often use called Dictionary.com defines Trouble in the following ways:
1.) “to disturb the mental calm and contentment of; worry; distress; agitate,”
3.) “to cause bodily pain, discomfort, or disorder to; afflict,”
4.) “to annoy, vex, or bother,” or
Now my question to you is…what draws us to trouble? Specifically, why do I (me, myself and I…the writer of this blog) continually walk into situations i know will not turn out in anyone’s best interest? Why do I keep letting my feet lead me to this point of no return? Why do I always think it sounds like a good idea at the time?
Why am I not smart enough to say “No” due to previous experience?
Because I’m young and dumb and don’t know any better.
It could almost be called the Bad Boy Syndrome every girl goes through at one point in their lifetime. We know the boy is all wrong for us…we know he seems to let his world revolve around you for the time being, but eventually, he is going to break your heart. It’s something we acknowledge the minute we pursue this Bad Boy…the thrill of the chase, however, overcomes our senses of logic. Our hormones get all out of whack and we simple think with everything BUT our logical side of the brain.
It all comes down to hormones, people. Biology can go to hell.
“I have wallowed with the vermin, so I know men’s minds.”
Perhaps its the day and time of our current era that has me doubting the actions of each and every single male I meet, but Mary “Mother” Jones, the uppity unionizer, has a point. Once you meet one bad apple, you’re bound to meet another. When you meet another after that, you start to assume all apples are bad. I may be alone in this, but I’m holding out hope for a good, juicy apple which tastes sweet upon the lips and is sweet throughout its entire being. There’s a good one amongst the entire bushel. There’s probably more than just a single good one. There’s bound to be a handful…patience is key here.
It’s intimidating, sifting through the good and bad. It’s even harder when you find a good one, but discover the chemistry simply isn’t there. He’s bound to make another girl out there unbelievably happy. But, until I stumble upon my apple who’s going to prove gravity exists in my life, I’m going to continue to be attracted to these No-Good, Bad-For-Me candied apples.
Am I boring you with this metaphor yet? 🙂
Truthfully speaking, its tough on the heart and soul to continuously put yourself out there. To try to make a connection with someone. Every so often, you do find a connection. Whether it’s short-lived or long-term is to be decided in time. When you find out its fizzling in short-term territory, that’s when it hurts. Maybe I’m too sensitive with this stuff. I know a fair share of women who have a new guy on their arm days after a semi-serious relationship ends. They’re perfectly okay with it, too. Playing the field, as they say. Seeing what’s out there…Keeping their options entirely wide open…
I guess I’m a One Guy kind of gal.
Don’t get me wrong. I’ve tried my hand at dating multiple men at one time. Not only is it incredibly time-consuming, but it takes very strong organizational skills if you’re living as busy a life as I do. Between classes, hobbies, family and friend outings, a little me time, the occasional rehearsal, and whatever else life throws at me, squeezing in three dates a week with three different guys is incredibly trying. Although, pat yourself on the back if you see two of them in the same night. Not because you’re manipulating anyone…but because the stars aligned for it to match up that way. Makes it easier on the woman with the incredibly full weekly planner weighing down her purse.
How about the nights where Guy #1 calls when you’re in the middle of a date with Guy #3, and you don’t want Guy #3 to know about it? You can only ignore the phone calls and text messages for so long. Again…maybe I’m a pushover. I could simply take on the attitude of “I have a life outside of you, go away while i enjoy it away from you!” OR I can answer his calls/texts in a vague way.
You’re right…I’m way too nice.
Regardless, it tired me out, and I started to think about how pissed I would be if I found out a guy I really liked was seeing two other women on the side outside of me. I totally understand the whole exclusive idea, and no one ever brought that up. So, technically, we were all able to be seeing more than one person, and maybe these guys were. But I also know two of them really, really liked me despite the fact I wasn’t ready to commit singly to either one of them.
In the end, I learned aggressive dating wasn’t for me. I like to focus my attention on one guy, and one guy, only. Not only does it allow me the chance to discover is Vermin Rate much sooner, but it also allows me a chance to get to really know them other than worrying about how I would keep this information away from Guy #2. I also wouldn’t sit there and compare them all in my head. It hurts your brain trying to rate three different Pro’s and Con’s lists in your head all the time.
Is this typical behavior of women in the dating pool in this century? Believe it or not, I still consider myself slightly old-fashioned when it comes to dating.
Ah, well…it’s Friday everyone! So, if you’re going out on a date tonight, enjoy every minute of it. Every woman deserves to be wined and dined occasionally, and remember to give the sucker a chance (unless he’s already proven to be a total douche in the first 10 minutes of the date…then just order the most expensive thing on the menu and get your free meal in exchange for putting up with him in a public place where *GASP* your friends might see you with a total jerk.)
Whatever your dating style, rock it out. You’re only young once. Heck, even if you’re in your 50s and dating (to which I applaud you! Way to get back out there!)The only requirement I demand? That he treat you like the princess you were born to be.
Don’t undersell yourself, ladies. A Jedi knows her power and strength.
No man can ever take that away.