There are so many ideas swirling around inside my tiny little brain. I don’t know where to start. They’re all such fantastic ideas, and I have the resources and knowledge in how to get them started, but time is an issue. Where do I find time to start them, and more importantly, where do I find the time to follow through on them to completion?
If I have a fault, and it’s a pretty major one, it’s that I have too much energy when it comes to starting projects. I start with gusto and so much enthusiasm it makes anyone listening want to puke up the lunch they had three days ago. I’m strong through the first so many hiccups and bumps along the road, but once we take that first major turn around the corner? That’s when I literally hit a wall and just stare at it, wondering what the hell my next step is.
I tell myself I’m stepping back to evaluate, to let it all sink in so I can choose from all my options. Unfortunately, that usually means I drop the project entirely because, in the meantime, I’m “Stepping back to evaluate”, I’ve probably started another project. Which will be doomed to the same path as Project #1. Before you know it, I have a pile of half-finished projects. Sometimes the fire is reignited in me when I take a moment or two to revisit. More times than not, I look at it and say, “It was a great idea!”
Probably not a smart thing t be blabbing all over the internet where potential future employers could read this, but if anything, they should appreciate my honesty, and let’s face it. I recognize a weakness of mine, and I know how to avoid it, especially when the project absolutely needs to get done.
Take for example, the card box I am making for my sister’s wedding (which is in, like 23 days…not even.) I have the material I am going to use to cover the three different sized boxes, which I am going to stack on top of each other. I need to measure and cut out the card slots in each box, attach the fabric to the walls of each box, and then buy the ribbon I’m going to wrap around each layer…plus bows! And lace for the edges where the fabric is going to look icky. Anyways, I have all this stuff ready, but it continues to sit on a heap on my floor and I just stare at it. This is something that has to get done. I mean, it’s my sister and its her wedding and I’m her freaking Maid of Honor…I cant just let this slide. Oh helllll no!
Plus, I still have to learn how to sing a song for the ceremony, write my MOH speech, finish her slide show video (which is really, really lacking at the moment) and assemble an emergency item kit for the Big Day. My motto? Be prepared for everything and anything. I’ve been a part of my fair share of weddings, and there’s always one things someone needs that NO ONE has, and it’s something very ordinary, like a safety-pin.
I’m not going to let anything like that happen on the day where I need to be on top of every little detail, right down to the pen we’re using to sign the marriage license. It would be bad luck to try to sign the thing, and the pen dried out. (How awful would that be? I may cry si that happens to me on my wedding day!)
“I’d rather have people love me or hate me than have no opinion of me. Indifference is scary.”
I heart the depth of your words, Lady Gaga, the performance artist we all should know and love. Yes, some think she is too dramatic, too theatrical, or just downright out of her mind insane. But I love her. I love her music, I love how comfortable she is with herself, I love her confidence, and I love her ability to express herself in whatever way she sees fit. While I may not agree with a dress made out of raw meat, she took a stand for something she believed in, and that is something we all need to take note of and follow suit.
It’s also a solid reason why I’m not going to give a damn if someone says I’m “too prepared” or “too psychotic” about everything concerning my MOH duties. I’m ready to make the best damn impression a person can on someone’s wedding. Look, it’s not my day…it’s my sister’s, and I want it to be absolutely perfect. I’ll do everything within my power to make it so.
But back to Gaga…her music is damn catchy. I don’t care who you are. Even when the kids on Glee performed a few of her numbers, I couldn’t help but jam out. There is just something…a certain essence she had captured within them that allow us to scream for joy within the bellies of our souls (and I really hope she is on the music list for my sis’ wedding day. I am going to rip up that dance floor, let me tell you!)
My contacts are being all sorts of funky right now, and I don’t like it one bit. Good thing I always carry my glasses in my purse these days. I think I’m going to pop each lens out before heading to Job Numero Dos this afternoon. I know…it’s a Friday and I’m going to head from one job to the other. Kill me now. Honestly, I don’t know how much longer job #2 is going to stay on my schedule. Things are getting downright icky there, too. A part-time job that only schedules you 10 hours a week maximum shouldn’t be this stressful (and the stress isn’t worth the extra $100-some bucks every two weeks, let me tell you.)
Don’t let the small things keep you down, my fellow Jedi. There is a much bigger world out there, and we need to reach out and seize what it offers us. To help get you in the right mindset, here my Midweek Smiles to put a smile on that face:
– Never underestimate the power of hope.
– You are and always will be a true beauty.
– Any day can be a new beginning.
– Give your energy to your dreams, not your stress.
– You inspire smiles.
– Why wait for your future when you can create it?
– Believe! You are destinedto achieve!
I have never been so excited to go home after work and put laundry away. You get to a point where the chaos in your room (although ordinary and somewhat calming) gets to be too much, and you need to cleanse the aura of the space. I’m sorry if that got to be too new-agey for you, but its true. Declutter your room, declutter your life.
It’s amazing what a small improvement like that can do to a person’s room.
Now, take the advice of Dame Gaga, and just dance! The weekend is just about to descend upon us, and we best prepare!
It’s just going to be one of those work days.
I have a list packed full of exciting and interesting projects for myself to work on, the air holds a certain buzz to it, I have the office completely to myself so no impending click-clacking of heels interrupting my thoughts every other minute, and I have a cup of Starbucks coffee steaming next to me. (I tend to be a Caribou girl, but it’s good to shake things up a little bit every now and then.)
So what’s my problem? Why can’t I focus on a single thing, other than that the ‘How to Train Your Dragon’ score is absolutely amazing?
Do I seriously hate my life this much already? Naw, that can’t be it. I went to Barnes and Noble yesterday, had a great hour of browsing and dreaming and thinking and planning, flirted with the cashier (who my sister insisted I go back and get his number, but I just wasn’t feeling it while still wearing my gym running pants…although my hair looked absolutely beachy-keen), bought my new Book of the Month (have I told you about that?), tried out Noodles and Company for the first time and LOVED it, and then I went home and got myself sorted out in my room to the point where I sat on my bed staring at the movie I was playing, asking myself, “Now what?”
So many things to do, and I can never nail down an order in which to get them done. When I reach that calm of crossing a dozen things off my list, then I just feel lost. May the heavens above help me whenever I decide to have kids….I’ll be in an absolutely chaotic heaven.
I just need to face it. It’s not going to be a very productive work day. I’ve been here for maybe 4 hours already, and my eyes are glazing over as I stare at this screen. It’s not that I don’t enjoy the work I’m doing, or the things I have staring me down from the yellow memo pad off to my left-hand side. I just don’t feel the burning motivation. Add on top of that the burning, disgusting thought of getting back on that treadmill for another 30 minutes at the end of the day, and I’m ready to crawl under my desk and call out I have the swine flu so everyone should just STAY AWAY.
Happy Thursday, all 🙂
“I’m lazy. At work my favorite part of the day is being on hold.”
You have summed up my feelings entirely, Janet Rosen, who is quite the jokesmith. I just want to stare at my computer screen and see if I can cause it to explode instantaneously. Maybe I’m not happy with my job? But how can I say that when I’ve only been working at it for little over a month now. Most say you need to give it a year before you find a foothold in a new place of employment.
Like yesterday? Totally rocked the office. I wore a great outfit (scoff all you want, but it really does help your mindset for the entire day if you take time to pick out your clothes and then acknowledge how good you look in it.) What’s this outfit I’m raving about? I actually took advice from Cosmo, and kept things simple. I paired a plain, V-neck black T-shirt with a black pencil skirt (you have to be careful with blacks to make sure they match, and in this case, they blended together perfectly.) Over the shirt, I pulled on an olive-green jacket that carried a semi-business vibe to it. Very much an Take-Me-Seriously-But-Also-Sit-Down-And-Talk-With-Me look to it. Put on my fave pair of black pumps with a silver buckle on the front, slip a black and white patterned belt around my waist to highlight my little middle, and a eye-catching pair of dangling earrings, and I was set to go.
I know my workouts are working, too, because I caught a side view of myself and my butt is looking a touch perkier than a week ago…Heck yes to progress!
Anyways, the thing is, I came into work primed and ready to see what the heck was up, and within the first two hours of stepping foot into the office, I fired off two really great ideas for our office, my boss loved them both, and before you know it, plans are being set to put them both into motion. I mean, how great does that make me feel? Makes me feel like I’m doing my job above and beyond, that’s for sure. Granted, my morning was then shot to hell when the project I worked on all morning got tossed by 2:00 in the afternoon, and I was told to start over with a new idea. But, eh, what can you do?
It’s going to take more than coffee and chocolate to pick me up this afternoon, so maybe a few words of encouragement will help. Here are a few pick-me-ups for us to share:
– You make life better just by being you.
– Disappointments pass. Successes last.
– Encourage yourself, too.
– Counting blessings makes them multiply.
– All the good things in life are waiting to be claimed by you.
– Your efforts will pay off.
– Choose happiness!
As a famous Jack Dawson once said in a little known film called “Titanic” once said, “Life is a gift and I don’t intend on wasting it.” I’m leaning in your direction, Jack, and trying to be optimistic about everything and making every moment count. Working out? I’m not going to stop…I’m going to push and run those extra 5 minutes. Writing? Stop fighting it and jot everything down a little bit a day, and things will work out on paper. Love? Keep the doors open, and be open to possibilities.
However, as a Jedi, duty always comes first, and that may be why I’m putting love on the back burner for the time being. I’m focusing on me, and what I need to do in order to choose happiness and live to smile after the choice has been made.
So far so good.
That also doesn’t mean I can’t have my fun along the way, too 😉
Heading to the gym, I have one thing on my mind and one thing only: I’m going to work up a sweat and no one better get in my way.
What did everyone else at the gym decide to do today? Piss me off.
Seeing a line of runners already taking up the first four treadmills, I keep walking to the opposite end of the treadmill line to take one where I can run on my own, or at least give my mind the illusion that I was running on my own. There were at least 3 treadmills between me and the next guy, and in wanders Miss Ditz-A-Fritz. Where does she head? For the treadmill to my left.
Now, this is going to sound neurotic, but if you’re going to be stupid and choose a treadmill by me when I am obviously making a point to not run next to another human being, go on my right side and not my left. My left eye is my dominant eye. I have a better peripheral sight range on my left side, and the stupid little girl takes a spot on the treadmill directly on my left.
Not a big enough bitch to stand there, glare and tell her to move to another machine, I took it in stride. As much as I tried to ignore her, it threw off my entire stride for the next 20 minutes. On top of everything else, it was unusually hot in that workout room and the air was incredibly dry. Within five minutes, I was breathing harder than the day I just took up running again without a glance back over my shoulder.
To my further irritation, Ms. Ditz-A-Fritz only ran for, like, 6 minutes. What the hell is the point of being on a treadmill when you’re barely doing anything? I don’t even think she actually started running.
Finally, she left and I was able to find my stride, but I was still having trouble breathing, so I let myself slow down to a fast walk…and that’s when idiot Number 2 walked in.
I just slowed down to my fast walk when this tall, lanky kid in a fluorescent yellow cut-off gets on the treadmill on my right (at least he figured that much out on his own.) If the shirt color wasn’t annoying enough, but the heavy wave of cologne that overtook me within the first few seconds of his starting to run was enough to knock me off my feet.
As if I wasn’t having enough trouble breathing the way it was, but Mr. Giorgio Armani was about to make me vomit all over both our treadmills.
“No man knows his true character until he had run out of gas, purchased something on the installment plan, and raised an adolescent.”
According to our phrase turner, Marcelene Cox, Mr. Bright Shirt has quote a way to go. If you don’t understand the “3 spritzes is more than enough” cologne rule at your age, how are you going to teach your own teenage son? Answer: You aren’t having offspring pop out of any females lower body parts until you are at least 40 years of age.
To further prove how much of an idiot he was, he only ran for like 5 minutes, much like Ms. Ditz. What was everyone’s deal? Running for 5 minutes is not going to save you from years of heart disease.
Later when I went to work on my arms and abs, there was Mr. Bright Shirt and his just as dull friend. Again, they did maybe two lifts of each weight, then went on each machine for about 2 seconds, and then quite loudly, they start talking about how they should try out the facilities hot tub. To add to their stupidity, they kept glancing over at me as they talked about it.
Smooth, boys. Real smooth. Along with your stench of nasty-ass cologne, any possible sweat you might have produced, and now trying to “convince” me to head to the hot tub, too. Please tell me you’re kidding.
Seriously. Be kidding.
To further add to everything, when I didn’t follow them, they came back to the area I was still working out in. Just back and forth, back and forth. For no reason, as far as I could see, either. Each time they came back, I smelled them before they turned the corner.
Just what I needed to finish out my workout in style.
On top of this wonderful gym experience, it was a rather unpleasant day at work and, in case you’re experiencing the way midweek hump that I am, here are a few words to life your spirits:
– You are needed.
– There’s no better investment than yourself.
– Dream it. Plan it. Live it.
– Today could be your best one yet.
– Beautiful is part of who you are.
– Why make the world wait? You’re ready to shine now!
Gotta love the Fall season in this city.
I may need to buy myself those Golden Apple Orchard votive candles after all.
Yesterday was September 11. A date which will live in infamy for my lifetime.
It’s pretty much the Pearl Harbor of our generation. I know exactly where I was the moment I heard the news. I was in the 8th grade, and I was riding the bus to school. Of all things…I was riding the bus. I heard my favorite DJ announce the news on my fave radio station. At first, I thought he was joking. I’d recently gotten myself into a slightly obsessive military phase. What I mean by that is, anything resembling army gear, I wanted it and I wanted it bad.
This was the time the seed was planted for me to join the army, to be all that I can be. Plus, at that time, it was still slightly unheard of for women to join the army. After watching and falling in love with the movie Black Hawk Down, I moved my gaze to more difficult obstacles for women. I wanted to be an Army Ranger, and if possible, a Delta Ranger. I had the mindset of steel. No one was going to tell me no, especially not a man in army fatigues. I’d outlast them all.
Anyways, along with this new plan (but what sort of plan do you actually follow through on at the age of 14?), I wanted the wardrobe to match the master idea. So, camouflage pants, camouflage T-shirts, black tank tops, heavy-duty army-style boots (tall and short), tan undershirts, dog tags that read ‘Army Brat’….anything military inspired, I either wanted to wear it or own it.
So, it’s September 11, and I’m riding the bus to school wearing my heavy brown army boots, and I hear the DJ make this announcement. My ears didn’t perk up until the third time he said something, and I instantly thought, “Oh no. They’re attacking headquarters. They must be stopped!”
“I have often depended on the blindness of strangers,”
A font of funny lines, Adrienne Gusoff, has hit it on the mark with this one. Let’s just say we all knew I was a drama-filled kid from an early age, but nowadays and starting back when I was a young thing, when I put my mind to something, I went at it with all speed ahead. When I was set on joining the military, I wanted people to know it. Hence, the sudden wardrobe change (however, I drew the line at buzz cuts.)
But, being the juvenile that I was, I hadn’t quite grasped entirely what was going on. Not until I walked into second period English, and the teacher had the TV on, watching the first Tower smoke its way across the sky. That’s when it hit me, what really was going on. We talked about it all during first period Band, and we attempted to play a song, but we all knew our teacher’s mind wasn’t in it. So we talked about it instead.
It was in English when the 2nd Tower fell, and my teacher brushed it off as repeat footage of the first tower falling. But it wasn’t. The 2nd Tower collapsed, and I felt my heart drop as I stared at the TV screen. How could both Towers suddenly be gone? Just like that? Through the haze and the smoke, two very large holes now gaped widely at the world. My next thought? “Who the hell gets the idea to fly two planes into towers filled with people? How is this possible?”
I didn’t personally know anyone in the Towers or anyone on the planes which crashed into the Pentagon or into the field in Pennsylvania. But my heart went out to those who lost their loved ones, or who would be put to the worst test of all time: the unknown. They didn’t know if their family/friends were alive, and they would have to wait.
Waiting is the worst. I think waiting kills more people than actual disasters or diseases.
I visited the Sept. 11 memorial site in the spring of 2007, and I was overcome with so many feelings. I didn’t actually cry, but my gut was twisted in every which way and I couldn’t eat for hours afterwards. The lists of names of those still missing, the notes and mementos left for those still hoping for the biggest of miracles. Someone was playing their violin and the soft notes of “America the Beautiful” made my heart ache. Staring into the pit of the rubble (which was all cleared away by this time, but this giant hole still remained), I couldn’t help but wonder what is was like here…on this infamous day six years ago…to look up and see the towers smoking on the horizon and knowing tomorrow when you woke up, the world would be a different place.
The movie “World Trade Center” always brings me to tears, and maybe for a few not so obvious reasons. I’ve always loved Nicholas Cage, but here was a new take for him. He breaks my heart. Mario Bello and Maggie Gyllenhal do, too. I wasn’t with anyone who waited for word on a loved one down at the tower site, but I feel like I’m right there with them. The anguish that crosses their faces kills me. One question is raised by a police officer in the movie, the one who crawled down into the void to pull Cage and Pena’s characters out of the rubble: “All these people in these towers…Where are they? Where did they go?”
I often ask myself the same question when I think about those still missing.
Along with remembering the tragedy of the day, and sending out love and hugs to those greatly hurt by the hatred and terror of those we don’t entirely understand, we must also thank those who gave their lives or put themselves on the line all in the name of hope, brotherhood, and because it was the right thing to do. It’s amazing how human we all become despite out difference when tragedy strikes as hard and swift as September 11 saw all those years ago. Honestly, it feels like yesterday.
I want to thank them all: Policemen, firemen, first responders, military personnel, the National Guard, doctors, nurses, priests, the families, the spouses, the friends, the common man on the street who decided he’d put his best effort forth, complete strangers who quickly became friends. Everyone…thank you.
On that note, here are a few things to keep your spirits high. Out of darkness, a bright light will shine.
– Every dream-come-true starts with hope.
– You have every reason to feel confident. You’re amazing.
– It’s time to be who you were meant to be: a success story!
– Positive thinking works — and its free.
– You will have more triumphs than troubles.
– One smile can make everything better. Especially your smile.
– No need to try so hard. You’re alreadyterrific!
It’s always darkest right before the dawn. We’re stronger than we were yesterday, and we can only go up from here.
Take it easy, and hug those who you love most.
I may or may not be watching too much of The Office.
Wanna know how I know this to be true? I am having dreams about breaking up one of my Top 10 couples of all time: Jim and Pam.
Since I have started watching the show (about 6 months ago), I have found their love story to be one of the cutest I have ever seen unfold on my television screen. Literally tore my heart apart when Pam broke off her engagement with Roy (and also leapt with absolute joy when the episode happened where they show her ring finger *gasp* absent of an engagement ring!) When she got back together with Roy with no definite plans for the future with their relationship, but just to see how they work out, I fumed at her. Why would you do that when the sweetest man I have ever witnessed on the TV screen is absolutely pining for you no more than 5 feet away from your desk?!
Then, he gets into a relationship with someone I found highly obnoxious from the start (and far too insecure with herself) when Pam finally grows a big enough pair to say, “No More!” to Roy. Hearing Jim and Karen talk about going to city, to explore it and “get a hotel room” made me as uncomfortable as the time when the Warehouse Guys took on the Office Guys and Jim had to stand there and take it while Pam and Roy shared a long, celebratory kiss. (Also, I loved watching Jim in all his giant tallness king-of-the-court basketball glory against Roy.)
“I have found that age is a careless jailer. There are hours, days, even weeks, when it doesn’t seem to check up on you as much. During those times, you are the same whizzy you have always been, in some ways better.”
The original Cosmogirl, Helen Gurley Brown, has captured the essence of my forever-lasting romantic self. It’s never going away any time soon, and any guys who can’t handle a girl who loves her great love story (especially the one called Her Own), better keep searching. When it comes to love and keeping the romance alive, I will always be that whizzy self of mine.
Anyways, in this dream…I broke them up. I break up Jim and Pam! Pretty much put them on the verge of divorce. And why would such a solid couple end up in such distress? Because, my dear readers, somehow Pam ended up turning into an absolute domineering bee-yotch and Jim got sick of it. Somehow I was around to charm him. Next thing you know….details get very, very juicy.
Let me explain further:
Jim and I are at an office party (apparently I also work for Dunder Mifflin…but since they were the only two people from the show I recognized, I’m going to safely assume we just work for the same company.) We laugh and joke over drinks in plastic cups, and seem to only have a focus on each other. It comes up in conversation that both of us are both attending an open house on a property we’re both looking at in hopes of purchasing. (Of all things to have in common…a possible mortgage!) Next thing you know, my hand is on his forearm, and his arm is around my waist to stop me from toppling to the ground. I’ve had quite a bit to drink.
Let’s me honest…we both did.
Soon, we’re stumbling down the street, me in my work coat, and Jim starts leading me up the steps to…Surprise, Surprise!…the house we’re both going to for the open house the next day. The door is unlocked when Jim gives it a twist, and we stumble inside. We start giving ourselves a tour of the place, making up facts about the counter tops in the kitchen, the tile flooring in the bathroom, the clock hanging above the fireplace mantel. The place is somewhat furnished, to give the house a more fleshed out look when we tour it the next day. He makes a joke about the carpeting, and I pull him down to the couch as we start laughing too hard. We look up from out laughing fit, and our faces are incredible close….Soon, our lips are pressed together in a hungry sort of way. Jim rips off my coat and throws it somewhere off towards the direction of the kitchen.
(This is where the dream fast forwards, but I’m sure you know what happens next…or I just keep the dirty details to myself. Haha!)
Out of nowhere, a blanket as appeared on the couch, and I lay half covered by it when suddenly the door bursts open. Who but enters, but Pam! Jim leaps off me, and I frantically reach for the blanket to pull it over my chest as I sit up. I notice Jim is still wearing his black work socks, but he’s also still wearing his white button-down work shirt (half the buttons undone…my handiwork, I’m sure) and a blue pair of plaid boxers. His hair remains incredible mussed up (also my handiwork.)
Jim tried to explain, but Pam simply stares at him, then me, then back at him, then back to me. She points a finger at me, and says, “I’ll see you at the open house tomorrow.” (Can we say awkward?!)
Sure enough, I show up to the open house the next day. Pam makes sure to stand right next to me throughout the entire tour, and when we reach the living room, see the couch, Pam makes an off-hand comment about how comfy the couch is. “Lots of things could be done on this couch,” she says to no one in particular, as she sits down on the cushions to give them a bouncing “test run.” (Are you kidding me? She’s saying it to me in that passive-aggressive way of hers.) To make things worse, I notice her protruding belly from under her shirt.
She stands up and says, “Won’t Jim and I be happy here?” I see how it is: You sleep with my husband, I get the house. (Sounds like a fair trade, right?)
…And the dream ends, with me waking up with one thought on my mind, “I’m an incredible home wrecker!”
The thing that made it worse? I’m watching another episode of The Office last night, and when a shot of Pam and Jim pops up on my screen, I caught myself thinking, “And he chose me over you, Pammy. Take that!”
Yeesh….I am one strange cookie sometimes.
But, when I think about how cute Jim looked before he leaped off that couch to confront Pam pantless, I don’t feel quite so bad about it. To add to that, here are a few words to life your spirits as the week is halfway done! Yee-haw!
– You deserve no less than the best.
– Today will bring blessings your way.
– You are unbeatable.
– Sometimes all a dream needs to succeed is some remodeling.
– You are already wonderful.
– Someone appreciates you more than you know.
– Determination outlasts doubt. Believe!
Alright, recalling this dream has made me quite the grinner. Add in the great dance tunes Pandora is feeding me right now, and I’m ready to rock n’ roll the rest of the day out. Have a good rest your day and remember, a bad day can always be righted by healthy doses of chocolate
Dreams are always too delicious.
I didn’t want to wake up this morning. I did not want to get out of my bed. What I really wanted to do was slip back into slumber and return to the ah-mazing dream I was having before my alarm clock decided to be a total party pooper and rouse me from dream world AKA what should be my reality.
“They were kind of dirty looking pebbles. I didn’t know. I’m used to seeing diamonds shiny and in a box. These are the kind of diamonds I am used to seeing.”
I have to admit, I think Naomi Campbell, the supermodel, makes herself sound more than a little silly here, when asked about accepting the gift of diamonds from an African dictator. But, if we think about diamonds here as if they were dreams, I would have to whole-heartedly agree with her.
Some dreams suck. More than suck. They are downright frightening and terrible.
Others? They make your heart soar higher than any caffeinated beverage ever could.
I love dreaming. Not just in the fantastical sense, but also in the REM sense. They are so interesting. I’m a firm believer our dreams are the gateway to what is happening in our live. They make us look at ourselves in a new light and force us to confront what we refuse to when our eyes are wide open in daylight. I’ve learned a few things about myself through the interpretation of my own dreams, and it’s utterly fascinating.
In other words, yes, I am that nerd who will be found looking at dream interpretation books at Barnes and Noble (although I have to admit I find Freud to be incredibly frustrating when it comes to dream interpretation. Just because I dreamt about a blue Laz-E-Boy chair does not mean I have a repressed sexual urge of any kind.)
You know what? I don’t care if you see me. I like what I like and there is nothing you can do about it!
So, what was this dream that made me momentarily hate my real life? Let me tell you…
Myself and a few unknowns (but I felt their presence about me, so I knew I had friends with me)were attending a rather intimate concert of none other but Josh Groban. So, he is up on his stage, sitting on a bar stool of sorts and doing his thing. He finishes his song, and he starts talking tot he audience. He asked us, the audience, to shout out the reasons we decided to come to his concert that evening. Much closer to the stage than I had earlier thought, I jumped up with my hand in the air and shouted, “It’s my birthday! I tweeted you about it. Did you see it?”
His reply, “You also sent me a card, didn’t you? For my birthday?” I nodded quite vigorously (I must have been nodding in my sleep, too, because my neck is just killing me this afternoon!) He smiled that boyishly charming smile of his, and told me, “I thought so. I actually kept the envelope, so I knew how to find you.” Ever so coy, I tucked my hair behind my ear, and said, “Well, I’m right here. Guess you found me.” He held out his hand to me, and I took the stage with him where he wrapped me in the warmest hug I have ever experienced. (Seriously, I am getting goosebumps just thinking about how great that hug was!)
Next thing you know, he’s leading me by the hand backstage, out the door, into his limo, and we’re back at his hotel suite. His room quickly became the gathering ground for his fellow band mates and they soon were creating new music for us to listen to. What were we doing? Cuddling on his bed, listening to his friends create new music on the spot. Very much an improv music session. We sat and listened to the music for a short bit, but then after a short time, while a sweet looking dude with long Jamaican dreads started tapping away on his metal-topped drum, he whispered in my ear, “I have something to show you. Let’s sneak out of here.” No one even looked up when we quietly stood up and slipped out the door.
Still holding hands, we walked quickly down the hall, stealing glances at each other and giggling the more and more we walked (honestly, this part reminded me of the scene in Titanic when Rose and Jack quickly duck out the back door of Rose’s stateroom after Lovejoy decides to stop by and try to crash their party, and they quickly, but calmly, walk down the hallways in the opposite way of Lovejoy’s soon-to-happen discovery of them.)
Anyways, he whisks me out the hotel’s front entrance, despite rampant staring from people in the lobby as we passed. We escape the rotating door, and like he can’t resist a moment longer, he grabs me around the shoulders and waist, and pulls me in for a deep, deep kiss. (Siiiiiiiiiiigh!)We pull apart for a moment, start to laugh….
And that’s where my dream ends. Do you understand why I didn’t want to return to reality? I mean, I was making out with Josh Groban! That’s a dream come true in so many ways.
Good thing I have my Josh Groban station going on my Pandora.
Thinking about it at this moment really makes me wish I had a guy to run home to and kiss until the sun set. (In case you haven’t noticed, I am a hopeless romantic…and yes, my heart is pitter-pattering at the recalling to mind of this dream.)
I have a feeling I know what Freud would say about this dream, and I would really want to tell him to shut it. Yes, a relationship is always at the back of my mind, but at the same time, I just don’t know. Currently, my love life consists of seeing a cute guy at Barnes and Noble or at a work reception, I smile, lower my eyes, and scurry past as soon as my legs will carry me.
There’s no hope for me…but there is for you and I hope you grasp those opportunities with all the muster and might you can with both hands. In case you need a little uplifting, here are my weekly words of encouragement to lift your spirits:
– Every dream starts with a first step.
– You are someone’s hero.
– Easier times are ahead.
– Give yourself some applause.
– Love will fill your heart if you let it.
– One positive thought can set a whole new future in motion.
– You’re a star. Let yourself shine!
Do you think Mr. Groban will appear in my dreams again tonight? I’m keeping my fingers crossed.
Until I find myself getting ready for some deep shut-eye, this little diddy will have to do.
I haven’t written in a few days, and I feel terrible.
And to make you feel even better, this post is going to be fairly short. In fact, I’m writing this today (Wednesday) and it might not be posted until tomorrow (Thursday). I’ve been a little busy and preoccupied. (And wouldn’t you know it? It’s actually Friday when I’m posting this. Woooow…this week has been Cray-zeeee!)
Like I said, I feel terrible.
A little recap of what’s been happening over the past couple of days (really, I’m recounting the few days that took up the previous weekend)….
Last weekend I headed down to the cities to see my best friend. See, the last time me and this friend talked, she was calling to inform me about how she and her boyfriend/fiance had broken up. Well, okay…I do what any best girlfriend would do. I had the weekend off, so I told her I was going to jump in my car and come see her, spend the weekend with her. To make sure she is okay and all that.
Little did I know, I’d get there only to find out they got back together the next day. Ummm what? How is that possible? “It’s too much time together to just throw it away.” While, yes, I agree, I honestly think she does need to spend some time on her own. She is a year younger than me, has been dating him for 5 years, and I think about myself and I know I would have said hasta la vista to him the moment we broke up. She needs to experience other guys in her life. A person changes quite a bit ion 5 years. Trust me, I am an expert at that.
Look at the type of girl I was 5 years ago, and look at me now. Leaps and Bounds of difference and change.
Anyways, so they got back together literally the day after she called me, breaking down in tears, telling me it’s over. Does she bother to tell me they got back together? Not at all. I found this out over turkey sandwiches and peaches with her parents that weekend. Wow…thank you for considering me a good enough friend to break the bad news, but when it comes to this? Not even a text message.
I worked my last day of work at the KGC, and it was utterly fabulous. I know to this very day they still haven’t hired anybody to replace me. Maybe by the time I post this tomorrow (really, on Friday), they may have someone. I sort of doubt it heavily.
But, as a token of farewell and good will, I was allowed to pick one thing off the entire menu to enjoy as my last meal with the club (my last supper, if you will.) I chose the château briand, and on top of getting to eat this delicious piece of steak with béarnaise sauce and the loveliest mashed potatoes you ever did eat, our club was graced with the presence of quite the celebrity on my last day.
Who, you’re probably asking yourself, who is this mystery person? None other than Laura Linney, whom I fell in love with when she was in Love Actually. I had since followed her into her days of playing John Adams wife in the TV series John Adams. So pretty and much taller than I suspected. I held a short conversation with her, and had the instinctual moment to grab a napkin and a marker, thrust them into her and politely demand an autograph, but I held back. I didn’t want to disturb her for an autograph when she was clearly there for a family event, or as some call it, a groom’s dinner.
“I have been treated as a freak, rather like the fat lady at the circus.”
I didn’t want to treat Ms. Linney like this on her visit to the KGC. I’m sorry for the way you felt, Margaret Patricia Hughes, an English sportswriter. But at least I hope you were treated differently because you stormed into the men’s locker rooms for the stories and quotes needed for the best of sports writing. And not just for the job, but also to catch a glimpse of those abs on them athletes which I know they were sporting.
Hey, once a single woman, always a single woman (in the mind, anyways.)
Along with the excitement I have detailed already, I also started my new job, and I’ll have to dish on that more later. I have already stayed 30 minutes past what I’m scheduled to work on a daily basis to get this done (since I am still without a laptop), so I shall leave you with my Midweek Smiles and get the heck away from this office. I mean, I’ll be here 40 hours a week. Why spend more time here than I need to!?!
– This day is filled with small joys just waiting to be noticed.
– You have the strength you need.
– Everything will be all right.
– See yourself as you truly are: amazing.
– Dream. Create. Achieve!
I’ll need these reminders as much as the next person in the upcoming weeks ahead. I fly solo in the office already on Monday. MONDAY! I will only have a week under my belt at that point. Start crossing your fingers now, folks. It could be a bumpy ride.
I have committed a very serious sin against the season known as summer and every spirit that makes her as magical as she is, right down to the sunsets.
My bathing suits? Not worn nearly enough.
Not worn enough while soaking up the sun on the sandy beaches, not worn enough while floating on kid-sized floaties in the big lake I like to imagine is a giant ocean parked in my backyard, and not worn nearly enough while frolicking in the water whether I’m cooling down or actually swimming for exercise/any sort of daily activity.
“There are two kinds of swimming suits. If you are going to swim, wear a water bathing suit. But if you are merely going to play on the beach and pose for your camera friends, you may safely wear the dry land variety.”
A girl needs to have a small arsenal of swimsuits in her collection for a variety of reasons, and Annette Kellerman , who was busted for wearing a one-piece before its time, speaks to this completely female need.
I have my different reasons for going to the beach. About 80% of the time, yes, I am going to enjoy the warm sunshine on patches of my skin mostly hidden away during the winter months (and where I live, that tends to be 9 months out of the year).
The other 20%? It could be a variety of things. When the waves are ragingly high for this lake, I like to indulge my adventurous side and go wave diving. Especially when they get so high and you get off shore far enough, you look behind you and can;t see the beach over the cresting waves. With the flood that happened about a month ago now, there could be anything in that water. Logs, dead fish, and other clunky debris. Every time I take a dive under a giant, rolling wave, I could be headed for disaster.
Literally. If there’s a log under the water, and I dive right into its path: Headed for Disaster. Ha. It’s sort of funny…Never mind…
Every once in a while, I go to the beach to enter a certain frame of mind I like to call ‘Paradise.’ I go to the beach, I lay on my anchor-patterned beach towel, but when I get hot, I step into the water to cool off. If I’m with someone, maybe we’ll wade into the water up to mid-calf height, and toss a football or a Frisbee around. Catch on the beach is a must.
If I’m feeling really ambitious? I’ll suggest finding a net to play some beach volleyball. Or we’ll pretend to have a net. This allows me to indulge in my current Olympic beach volleyball fantasy. (And yes, my teammate is probably Misty Mae-Treanor.)
Of all the situations I’ve just described, each of these moments at the beach requires a different sort of bathing suit. It might sound excessive, but I’m not going to wear a string bikini when I’m jumping, falling, and running around diving after a ball when playing beach volleyball.
If I’m merely soaking up some rays (or, not really exerting myself while at the beach), I’ll wear a tinier, more exposed swimsuit to allow the sun to hit as many areas of skin for even tanning as possible. This also allows for less tan lines (and yes, I am wearing sunscreen. Calm down already!)
If I’m wave diving, I’m wearing a swimsuit with more support than the lounging bikini. If I’m diving under some gnarly waves (some surfer speak for you!), I want my girls to stay in place and not hanging out all willy-nilly when I come back to the surface. No, sir. I do not want that beach mishap on my beach record if I can help it.
If I’m more in between, like yes, I *might* go in the water, but I’m going to spend a good portion of my time on the sand, I have a nice in between bikini for that situation. Or I mix and match the two mentioned from above. When you’re slightly more chesty than the average girl, I tend to worry more about my upper regions than my lower, and I like my legs most of the time, so why not show them off a bit more?
If I’m going to play some beach volleyball? It’s the most athletic bikini I have in my collection. I am not falling out or losing anything while going for the next big dig or lunging upwards for that spike. My girly parts are NOT going anywhere. I might not be the best eye candy at the beach that day, but I’m quite okay with that.
I don’t need to be known as the girl who flashed an entire beach full of children and adults alike.
Ladies, don’t let anyone tell you that you ever have too many bikinis. As long as each one serves its necessary purpose, you’re allowed to have as many as you want. Plus, you want a couple of extras in case you’re going out and wearing a wet swimsuit all day long just sounds terribly uncomfortable to your ears (and bum.)
It is uncomfortable.
Just thinking about the beach makes knowing this week is half way over puts a smile on my face. Adding to the feeling that I have only 3 more nights at my soon-to-be old job only adds to my happiness.
In case you need more of a push, here are my Midweek Smiles:
– Look how far you’ve come.
– Give a dream a makeover. Believe!
– Life never runs out of joys.
– Smile more. Stress less.
– Nothing can hold you back now.
– You don’t have to wait to be great. You already are!
What’s getting you though the rest of the week? Knowing I no longer have to work evenings on a consistent basis is keeping this smile plastered across my face.
Nothing like a little Backstreet’s Back (Alright!) to get my day moving a little quicker 🙂
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.