I’ve gotten a little behind with everything. Guess that’s what happens when you head to the boonies for 5 days and refuse to access a laptop or Wi-Fi internet while you’re gone. Going home is like a mini vacation for me. So I’m allowed to leave the my online life behind for a few days.
Walking out in the woods on a beautiful fall day will never compare to any day spent entirely on a computer.
I had quite an assortment of dreams last night. One very, very steamy one, and another where I drew on experiences from what is happening in my real, conscious life, and I was President of the United States of America. And they say life doesn’t influence the art we create in our heads. Pffft. I’m actually not sure if that’s true. I may have made that up.
What IS true, however, is a fun fact I read the other day while eating breakfast. Apparently, upon first waking up, if we are going to recall a dream, we remember it in its entirety within the first 10 seconds of waking. Another seven seconds, and we can only recall about 1/4 of it. Within ten minutes of waking, we forget the dream entirely.
Fascinating, isn’t it? I’m a little bit different, as I recall bits and pieces of dreams for hours/days/weeks to come after it has been played over in my head. Sometimes, I dream the same dream a couple more times, each time adding on a little bit more than the last time. The mind is an interesting, complicated piece of organized mush. I’m thankful there are people in the world who can cut open a person’s skull, get their fingers in there, probe around and fix the issues that are happening. Someone would crack their skull open near me and I would probably barf from the sound of shattering skull alone.
I’ll spare you the details of the hot and steamy one. But the POTUS one? I’ll share that one:
“I’m pacing in a back conference room. There’s a long, mahogany table shining in the center of the room, and a rather large flat screen TV is fixed to the wall behind where I am pacing. (All I can think at this point is of Effie Trinket from the Hunger Games yelling her infamous mahogany line.)My hands rest on my hips in my slim-cut navy blue suit, and i just keep pacing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
Quickly, the door opens, and a younger man steps in. Camera flashes and the shouting of invasive questions burst from the doorway and are quickly shut away once the door is clicked closed behind him. He walks over to me, I stop pacing, and we simply stare at each other. He has the same curly flop of hair that Josh Groban does, but he is tall, dark and handsome. (He has been in my dreams many, many times before, and I can feel my mouth starting to water just thinking about him now.)I continue to stare at him, waiting. After a short time, he lets out a deep and sigh, looks down to the floor, and only shakes his head once: No.
Instantly, my eyes fill with tears, and I can’t breathe. (I wasn’t expecting this. POTUS does not cry ever!) He tries to reach a hand out to me, but I quickly step away. ‘Don’t touch me. Don’t ever touch me again.’ He looks at me with concern, but quietly mutters, ‘I’m the reason our country still has a living leader instead of a scorched body to mourn.’ I turn back to him then, walk over to him, and slap him hard across the cheek. (How DARE he?! But I still don’t know what’s going on…)‘That was my family in that plane. I should have been with them,’ I yell at him.
The door opens again, another burst of blinding camera flashes, and its my Vice President. He’s come to tell me I need to meet with my Press Secretary to draft a statement as to my whereabouts and why I wasn’t on the plane with them when it crashed. Handsome looks at me, and we exchange a painful look. We knew this affair wouldn’t result in anything good for either of us. (Don’t you know you never sleep with someone you work with?!) Never did I imagine it would end with my family dying in a plane crash while I got it on with Handsome here in the fake Oval Office (you know, the one the tours are led through. Not the ACTUAL Oval Office. Too many things of value there.) Nor did I imagine that a private tour was being conducted at the same time my legs would wrap around his waist. (Twitter-verse must have been in heaven.)
I nod, and prepare to follow the Press Secretary through the melee of reporters waiting outside the door.
‘You do know the truth will come out no matter what we say in the next few hours,’ he says to me. I nod, and say, ‘Next time I won’t be so stupid and we won’t be in this mess.’ I give Handsome one more long look and tell him to pack his things. He is no longer a member of my Cabinet. (GASP!)With that final word, I’m out the door, blinded by hundreds of cameras going off all at once.”
This is not a demonstration of how women wouldn’t be competent in leading our country. THIS is a demonstration of A woman who wouldn’t be able to lead our country:
“Refudiate. English is a living language. Shakespeare liked to coin new words, too. Got to celebrate it.”
Remember those words from our last election in 2008? They are from Sarah Palin, a politician who decided to comment about her bard-like brilliance on Twitter. Brilliance…is that what they’re calling it these days? Of all the women John McCain could have picked to be his running mate, he had to choose Miss Russia From Her Backyard.
Whatever. I’m over and so so SO happy McCain didn’t win. Otherwise who knows what Palin might have done, and in case you need clarification, I’d be holding my breath in worry, not in rapt anticipation.
Yoda/Kenobi 2016…Because they are our only hope.
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 🙂
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.
For the first time in my dating history, I walked through my door, set my purse down on my bedroom floor, sat down on my bed, and just sat. I didn’t have a ridiculous grin on my face. I didn’t have butterflies ransacking my stomach. Instead, I grabbed my planner to check the time I’m scheduled to work tomorrow morning, and proceeded to my kitchen to grab a glass of water.
I’ve been really thirsty all night long for some reason. Dehydration, probably.
On top of that, I just want to pull my contacts out of my eyes and settle into the couch for a few episodes of The Office (a new season has been put on Netflix so I can catch up on another new season and get my Dwight fix.)
What is wrong with me? I should be jumping out of my skin with this one. It’s not that it was a horrible date. In fact, it was a really great date. We were out and about several beaches with his dog. I can’t tell you how much I love and miss my dog. Leaving my dog behind once again when I left home this past weekend broke a small piece of my heart, like it always does.
Since my last dog, I’m reminded that every time I leave home, I might not come home to my dog again. Rest in peace Titan. I miss you so much, buddy. Even when you chewed on my barn rubbers if I forgot to put them up on the porch railing over night. I still miss you, my sweet little puppy.
I got to be outdoors. I got to jump from rock to rock on the shore like I was a crazy woman, like I was a kid playing on the rock pile. Skipping rocks, playing fetch with his dog, and sitting with my feet dangling in the cool water while talking to my date. It was gorgeous out, and I had a cute guy sitting next to me.
Then, we kept driving up the shoreline because there were a few places he wanted to show me because I had mentioned on previous dates I had never been to these places. So, basically a mini road trip.
After that, we didn’t turn off on the road we should have to return to his place. Instead, we kept going straight and I asked him what we were doing. We were going to pick up pizza from his favorite pizza place in town.
What more could I ask for?
It continued to be a pretty wonderful afternoon while we watched Family Guy, Wipe-Out, and talked about new movies coming out we both really want to see. Savages, Brave, The Dark Knight Rises, and a whole handful of others. It really was a sweet afternoon, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Then, why when I come home from said date, do I sit down on my bed and wonder why I feel like nothing happened between us? Like, there was no spark or something? He did kiss me good night, and we have tentative plans for tomorrow evening/this weekend…so it went well. Right?
Then, why do I feel this way?
I’ve been finding myself in a funk a lot as the week has progressed. It may be a small depression after my party-throwing this past weekend. I was looking forward to the Bachelorette Party for so long, now that it’s over, I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes. My main duties as the Maid of Honor are half over. A huge part of it is throwing these two parties for the bride. Until the big Game Day, I simply help her with whatever preparations she needs help with. Then, on the wedding day itself, I sort of run the show and make sure everything behind the scenes is running smoothly so the bride and groom don’t have to worry about anything but getting their vows right.
“The last hundred years of my life have been filled with new things.”
It doesn’t take a genius to know I’m not 100 years old, or ever over 100 years of age. But, in the years I have been blessed to walk on this earth and to have lived through the experiences I have experienced, it’s a beautiful thing. Lillian Postman, a woman checking in at 108 years old, probably knows a thing or two about life that I would love to hear.
I wonder if she was married…
With dating and life eternal with that one special someone locked in my brain at this moment while watching The Office, I am reminded how freaking cute Pam and Jim are on this show. Why can’t I have a romance story like that? Why can’t I find a Big Girl Job, meet the coworker who will become my best friend and confidante, let alone the love of my life, go through a big messy ordeal, then finally have him propose to me so we’ll live happily ever after in our suburban home with our 3 kids, our Mini Cooper, our dog, and a small screened in porch where we have brunch every Saturday and Sunday morning (where he does the cooking and I have the time off away from the kitchen.)
Why can’t I have that? Perhaps I will in my future, but since I don’t know if I will ever have that. I’ll beat myself to the ground wondering.
I do. More often than I would care to admit.
I need to find myself a hobby. One that requires discipline and focus. Maybe I should take up meditating in one of the places I was introduced to this evening, and really take my study of the Jedi arts far more seriously than I have been thus far. It’s one of those things where some days it’s pretty hard-core, and others I forget to think a Jedi-ist thought.
I’m in a funk, people. I need to find my way out of this.
Now, I have survived the Flood of 2012.
I’m not even kidding. Last night when all I could talk about was how much it was raining…the story gets much more interesting than that. This city has been declared as being in a State of Emergency. This is real life, this is what is actually happening. The rain stopped earlier in the afternoon, thank god, and some of the damage is just unreal. Photos I have seen and have posted to my personal Facebook are insane. I have uttered three particular words multiple times upon looking at certain pictures.
“Oh. My. God.”
Water is an incredible thing. So calm and soothing one moment, then gushing and raging down the streets of this city ripping up concrete and tarmac along the way.
Leaving work last night…Talk about an adventure and nail-biting experience all rolled into one. As the sky dumped everything it had down upon this city, it didn’t take long to realize having an umbrella wasn’t going to help matters any. Sure it kept one side of my head dry. The other half? By the time I got to my car, I resembled a wet, shaggy dog.
Walking through the alley wasn’t do bad. The occasional puddle that I either stepped through or I leaped over, you know…typical steps taken to avoid walking through puddles.
But then I got to the street.
Water gushed down the sides of the street like a raging river. It pooled and gurgled…I honetly could have been standing next to an actual river for all I knew. So what did I do? I took a deep breath and stepped right into the fray.
Wrong decision on several accounts.
One, the water was much deeper than it seemed to be. I took that initial step and the water ate my foot. I never thought I was going to find the pavement. The water came up right over my ankle, and in literally 2 seconds, my shoe was soaked.
Somehow, that made my show grow half a size, so when I managed to get out of the water, whenever I took a step, my shoe slipped off the back of my heel. I felt like a little 3-year-old running around in a pair of my mommy’s high heels.
Along with the sudden size difference, I also felt the squish of water between my toes with each and every successive step. Nothing is worse than the squish of water between my toes.
The umbrella wasn’t entirely useless. At first, at least. It did keep my head dry while my pants took no time in absorbing the falling H2O droplets. It’s the worst while its raining and when you crawl into a car feeling and smelling like a wet dog.
Seriously, though, my umbrella was in tip-top shape until I crossed the street. There is something about crossing that raging river of a street that changed everything. Once I pulled by foot from the river, high heel still attached, the wine decided to pick up and wreak havoc upon my umbrella.
My head was dry until that exact moment. The wind grabbed the umbrella, turned it inside out, and along with smelling like a wet dog, I proceeded to look like a wet dog.
Hair plastered against my cheek. Bangs stuck to my forehead. Pants clinging to my thighs.
Just a plain, hot, wet mess.
“There are some circles in America where it seems to be more socially acceptable to carry a handgun than a packet of cigarettes.”
But in this part of the country, let alone this state, you’re gonna need rain boots and raincoat far more than a handgun for the next couple of days, Katharine Whitehorn, the Brit Wit.
However, given the situation of this city and the flood that has devastated varying areas, I consider myself lucky. The most damage that has happened to my apartment building is very large puddles forming on the lawn around the ground level apartments. Water was running right up to their screened porch doors. Looking at the threat on their doorsteps, I’m not so ungrateful for living on a higher level.
Water has always held a fascination for me, but it’s mind-boggling in its power. How does water rip up streets and sidewalks? How does it wash out an entire highway and several feet of earth below said highway? How can it flood several parking lots and just stand for hours upon hours?
Water is a ferocious enemy, and as a Cancer, I find it all alluring and beautiful in its destruction.
My heart goes out to those who suffered loss and destruction after this weather debacle. But everyone should know there are silver linings to everything, and here are a few enlightening words to get you through the rest of the week.
– You don’t have to be perfect to be amazing.
– Things are about to go your way.
– You make life wonderful.
– Shrink your stress. Have some fun!
– You are fully qualified to succeed.
My heart goes out to everyone in this city this evening, and if there is any way I can help, I’m going to. Everyone says they want to live something like a natural disaster, to say they were a part of history.
I became a part of this city’s history when the rain fell and when it continued to fall for the past 24 hours, flooding the streets with foaming, dirty water. It’s the worst flooding this area has seen in the past 40 years, if not in its entire history. Incredible to think about, but it’s going to take a while for this city to rebuild the damage that has been done.
Mother Nature. She sure knows how to send a message. What that message is, I’m not too sure quite yet.
Nothing makes me giddier than a huge storm rolling in.
My stomach is also the first to leap when the loudest clap of thunder shakes the house. Considering I’m currently sitting in what could be categorized as a modern-day fortress, it makes my stomach leap a touch more when this huge building shakes with the storm’s rumblings. Then, when the impossible starts to happen, such as a tornado watch in an area that is known for being safe from the whirlwind cyclones, then my hand starts to twist my hair into little spirals of their own.
But the dark gray clouds sure look pretty out there. It’s eerie staring out of these huge glass paned windows and on the bottom third of the horizon is a lake, the middle third is bright, and the top third is clouded over again with the dark storm clouds. A horizon Oreo sandwich of sorts. Downright eerie is what it is. Like a terrible car crash or bear mauling, I want to look away and take cover, but I’m also fascinated by what I see.
When the middle brightness disappears, then I may seek shelter in the catacombs of this place. Maybe I should be paying closer attention to the current weather forecast…
Other than the amassing storm outside, it’s been a very, very busy past week and a half. I’ve had a slew of job interviews (fingers crossed that things are finally looking up!), and I just feel like I’ve been running my tail off. At the same time, I’ve been able to make time to do a handful of things I’ve been meaning to. Look at that, I’m becoming more proactive as the days drag on!
It’s amazing when I think about all I’ve accomplished in the past week. Not just the interviews (I hope you’re still crossing your fingers), but I’ve gone out on a handful of dates, I experienced the Grandma’s Marathon beer tents for the first time, confronted a man’s mistreatment of a lady such as myself, rejected 3 different offers for boyfriends from random strangers, took a stand with one of my employers, and gone out several times with a blast from my past. All in all, I’m having myself a very good time.
While looking ahead to what this current week may bring, I know there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. You want to know why I’m staying so cheery? Because in 5 days, I will be celebrating my birthday! Nothing is better than celebrating the day of your birth. I once read a quote somewhere that asked a pretty important questions: “While it is important to celebrate the day a new life joined the world, why are we not also celebrating the lives the brought this life into the world after hours and hours of hard laboring pains?”
Good question, isn’t it?
I’m more so celebrating the fact that I have survived all the incredibly stupid decisions I have made over the years. Some were oh-so-incredibly stupid. Jumping off the back of a moving car? How I didn’t end up with a scratch is beyond me. Drinking so much in my 2nd year at the Academy that I woke up the next morning next to a decent enough friend wearing somebody else’s clothes and my hair pulled back into a bun, and the last thing I remembered was laying down hand containing a full house in our poker game? My liver still hasn’t forgiven me for that indiscretion. Driving six hours across the state of Minnesota to hopefully spend at least 2 minutes of my actual birthday with my then boyfriend after working an event with my interning company, and rolling into the parking lot at 12:02 am then next day? My body sure didn’t need all that caffeine I devoured in the hopes of staying awake the entire drive, and my heart sure hated me about a year later after we broke up.
See? Lots of stupid things. But guess what? They made me who I am at this exact moment. Seriously, I wouldn’t trade any of the things I’ve done to play it safe. Playing it safe doesn’t get results, and this is something I’m learning with each passing day. I also get really speculative on my life around my birthday, so if I sound very philosophical about life in general for the next week, I apologize in advance. It’s the idea of another 365 days have come and gone, and have I spent them wisely? The correct answer is probably no on an all-encompassing scale, but who am I to judge?
“Does Mary Poppins have an orgasm? Does she go to the bathroom? I assure you, she does.”
Thank you for answering all my doubts on such topics, Julie Andrews, the silver screen’s strictest nanny.
There are just certain things you never really want to know. That is one of them.
The clouds have finally allowed their tears to fall upon the earth, making the evening a little bit more miserable than it was before. Add in the idea of Mary Poppins having an orgasm, and I’m ready to call it a night. Merely because I want to shut my brain off so I stop thinking about it. Who wants to think about that? I apologize for putting the thought into all our heads. But the rain has me reminiscing about what i love about the month of June, the official start to summer and the month of my birthday. So, what do I love about this glorious month?
– Summer 🙂
Hoping the weather is treating you with more kindness than it is doing me here. Although its nights like these that make for excellent cuddling.
Cuddle buddy, anyone?
Hello, hello all and hello again! How I have missed writing to you, but every once in a while, a person needs to step back away from the things they love. They need to be reminded of why they love these aspects of life as much as they do. While some get the itch to take a photograph, I get the itch to write, so here I am again. Let’s get to business, shall we?
I hope your Memorial Day weekend was splendid, and that you took a few moments to stop in your tracks to remember those who have given the ultimate sacrifice so we can live in a country like we do, letting us have the pleasures and freedoms we enjoy in our every day lives. It doesn’t have to be a grand, expensive gesture. Just a reminder to those around you and letting those know we remember and give thanks to their service. I had a friend recently tell me he joined the National Guards because its something he wants to look back on in 30 years and say it was something he did. If he doesn’t do it now, he never will.
I admire his ability to dive right in, head first, without a second thought. I once seriously considered joining the armed forces, but due to the heavy and persistent recruitment calls, I soon became annoyed with them and told them to leave me alone. I needed time to bring this up to my parents in a serious manner (they thought I was joking each time I mentioned it to them) and the fact that the recruiter didn’t respect that only made me angry. I ended up saying no to them. It may be a lame excuse, but let me make the decision in my own matter of time. It wasn’t like there was a deadline to sign up in a weeks’ time otherwise it would be too late!
The things we look back on. It’s amazing to think how different my life may have been.
Regardless of your affiliation to the armed forces, I hope you took the time to thank them in some way, shape, or form.
I’ve come to the conclusion over the past couple of days that I do not want to be a boring person. I don’t want my days to be routine. I don’t want everyone to be able to predict what I’m going to be doing a week from today because it’s the same thing I do every week at that exact same time. I don’t want people to think that I’ll wait for them, or that I’ll always be free. I want them to consider me a busy person, and if they want to spend time with me, they need to take into consideration that I may not always be available for them to simply drop me a text the night of and expect me to be there because “I have nothing better to do.”
I came to this conclusion over the past three days because I found myself doing the same things over the course of those three days. I watched lots of Gossip Girl. I read a lot of magazines. I ate a lot of food. I bought a lot of clothes. I stared at my wall, and fell into my bed at abnormally early times for myself. I arrived and left work more often than went out to drink or meet up with friends.
I became routine. In three days’ time. I became routine. (It should probably be taken into account that the weather here was just awful all three days of the weekend, too. We couldn’t grill outside due to torrential rainfall. I couldn’t go to the beach because of torrential rainfall and heavy, thick fog. I couldn’t even enjoy my coffee out on my deck because of the torrential rainfall. Ick ick ick.)
“Silent women are seldom bores — it is the talkative ones who make one feel limp.”
I’m listening to what you’re saying, Elinor Glyn, an English eroticist of yore. I think more girls should listen to the volumes you speak. The more we do and seek and discover in the world, the more tired our minds and bodies. Therefore we don’t have the energy to constantly talk about the things we do or don’t do. Or wish we did. Or whatever combination of things you want to say or pretend you did.
So, last night, when I became so restless I was ready to pull my own skin off , I threw on my yoga pants and a t-shirt and told my sister I was going for a walk. Let’s be real. A walk didn’t cut it. I was so fed up with many little things last night, I just needed to leave them all behind. I arrived at the beach around 9:00 pm (thank god it’s still light out at that hour), put my keys in my pockets, threw a towel over my purse in my backseat, slammed the door shut and almost took out a guy just standing there with a really nice camera. I just needed to get to that beach, and for that desire, I blame the Cancer inside of me.
Even though I was wearing tennis shoes, it was incredibly satisfying to feel the wet sand sink underneath my feet. The air smelled so good, the crashing waves shut out the stupid, nagging voices inside my head. As I walked, I reminded myself to be aware of everything around me, to take in the moment. That’s when I noticed the fresh tracks of footprints lined up next to mine, the flock of tiny birds swooping around the crest of the crashing waters, the fact that some strange moving figure wearing white was standing right next to the landmark I was aiming for as my turnaround point…I took it all in and let myself simply be aware. With that awareness, I realized my legs were begging me to run.
Run I did. I haven’t run like that in months, but it felt great…and I won’t lie. It felt epic with tons of fallen logs and lake debris littering the beach from the weekend’s huge storms, the crashing waves ripping at my feet, and just running like someone was chasing me…Epic. The only thing missing was the Hunger Games soundtrack playing in my headphones (which decided to die right as I started that evenings’ walk by my apartment.)
It honestly brought me back from wherever I was. It sounds silly, ridiculous, a bit philosophical, but that’s not the point. The point is that I felt myself come back out of a crazy, mentally messed up place, and I returned to where I was physically standing. It’s something the Jedi need to be able to do, to take in all that is around them, to be present in the moment and not thinking of what may happen in the future.
Thank you, Master Qui-Gon 🙂
Returning home to a bowl of vanilla ice cream, a large glass of water and my bangs curling like mad around my forehead (humidity and I do not get along at all in the summertime. Put Humidity right in the corner with Patience), I felt a larger sense of calm about me, and actually a stronger urge to become more active in my every day life. Running, muscle toning, ab work…all of it is going to find time in my day, even if its only for 20 minutes. Better than nothing.
With that in mind, I want to share this Vogue-Spiration with you. It speaks of a seduction many of us feel, and probably don’t fully understand. I know my seduction lies in finding what will make me a member of society, a “real” adult, someone to be looked up to, a “real” woman in a “real” woman’s job…whatever the hell that means. But the seduction exists:
“All legendary heartbreakers know that nothing is more alluring than a Mona Lisa aura of mystery. That secret untold, that appointment not kept, that willful concealing of what’s most desired…
And so we were captivated by a mood of enigmatic sophistication. The cool, young thing now is an ice-cool, adult panache — conveyed via intriguing new hemlines (below the knee), silhouettes (the femme fatal mermaid), and the strong, ladylike (wraps of fox, snap-top clutches, sheer dark stockings). You know you’re thinking about someone in particular.
No “uniform dressing” for us, grazie. We plan to play dress-up as Daisy Buchanan and Myrna Loy did, going in for marabou and heading to parties in gold paillettes or candy-color bijous that Josephine Baker could have worn at the Folies-Beregere.
Ands while we’re educating ourselves in the lost art of dressing like grown-ups, let’s expand out millinery vocabulary beyond the (usually misused) “fedora,”shall we? Is your favorite chapeau-to-be a toque? A slouch hat? A pillbox? A capeline? Why not make gloves, tight leather or cat-dotted, your trademark?
The seduction isn’t in taking it all off, it’s in putting it all on.”
Until next time, my fellow Jedi.
What did you do with your first day as a member of the real world?
I know what I did. A full day at the beach, and my skin is reaping the benefits. In about three days, I will be a mean, lean and tan machine. Hard to believe that I’ll have my tan in place before May is half over. What can I say? This city never knows what’s going on with its weather.
Perfect example is this evening. This afternoon saw temperatures reach 81 degrees. Absolutely beautiful weather to be sitting on a beach. This evening when a friend and I went for a walk? It was 54 degrees by the lake. How is it possible for one city to witness a 30 degree difference in a matter of six hours? I’ve graduated. I don’t do math anymore. (What a terrible thing to say, right?)
It was a lovely evening to take a walk, even if we did get rained on a little bit. Of course, what else do two girls talk about when walking in the late evening? We talk about relationships, new and old.
“As a rule the person found out in a betrayal of love holds, all the same, the superior position of the two. It is the betrayed one who is humiliated.”
Humiliation is a good term for what I felt after my last serious boyfriend and I split. Embarrassment and humiliation do go hand in hand, and I’d almost want to say I was more embarrassed by being the one being broken up with. Thank you, Ada Leverson, a maven in the comedy of manners. You’ve put a word to feelings I’ve been harboring for some time.
I shouldn’t say I was completely embarrassed. Embarrassed more so in the prospect that I would just break down and cry out of nowhere and in the most inconvenient of places. Like at work. At the most random scenes in movies. Watching a commercial. Seeing something on Facebook. A friend asking a simple question. My family wanting to eat at one of “our” favorite restaurants and then having one of them order what we always ordered.
Just bawling. All the time.
When I say a Cancer is an emotional mess, I’m not lying. Especially when my heart has been ripped out of my chest and thrown on the floor to be stomped on by a herd of stampeding wildebeest.
I’ve grown from the experience however. I would be lying if I said I handled myself in the best of ways post-break up, but we’re not dwelling on those moments of weakness and absent-minded thinking. I’m sure in a few years when all of this is a dusting on my past, I’ll bring those incidents up, but on the flip side, I may have forgotten about it by then.
Anyways, what did I do with my day? I was on the beach, and what a glorious day it was. There are two shades of me: light meat or dark meat. Right now, it’s a bit reddish in color, but I promise the goods are still good. I am sporting an awesome sunglasses tan on my face, so if I look a bit of a raccoon in the next couple of days, it’s because I was enjoying the sunshine this afternoon.
Seeing so many people with dogs only makes me want a puppy of my own that much more. Just dogs everywhere. Granted, they were wet and stunk like wet dog, but I still want a dog to call my own. I want to walk in the surf with my puppy while throwing him/her a tennis ball to chase and bring back to me.
Man…Do you hear the way I’m walking about owning a dog? I either need a new project or a boyfriend to get my back on track. Eeesh.
Yesterday was Mother’s Day. Did you hug your mother with everything you’ve got? She’s a remarkable woman, that mother of yours, and my mother is even more so. Not only is she the mother of a Jedi, but she has to put up with me. Not only put up with me, but she also has to love me through all my nonsense. That’s a pretty incredible feat.
I, of all people, know I can be a handful.
In honor of all mothers, I’m extending the Mother’s Day celebrations here. Think about it: Every day should be Mother’s Day. Without them, we wouldn’t even be here. Our mothers do a ton for us, whether we realize it or not. My mom would not stop apologizing for not buying me something as a graduation gift other than a card. I told her to stop worrying about it. She made it to my ceremony and sat through it for 3 hours to watch me walk across a stage for 2 seconds, shake 3 hands, and pose for a picture and then be on my way. That was it, and she, my dad, and my sister sat through the entire thing. All to support me.
That;s what I call family.
But…since it was Mother’s Day…I’m posting these songs as a reminder of how cool our mothers can be.
Yes, they do get on our cases sometimes, and I know I don’t always enjoy it. Like, I can’t stand the way my mom sucks the last of her coffee drinks through the straw in the hopes of getting every last morsel. She always asks me if I’m seeing anyone, and if I am, am I being safe about it? Do they respect me? “Don’t give them the time of day if they can’t send a little courtesy and respect your way. You should be treated like a Queen.” Yes, mom, I know. (See why I have high standards for every guy I go out with?) Am I getting enough sleep? Eating right? Getting everything done and still have some sanity left? Yes, Mom, I’m doing quite okay. Just a little tired and I just have a cold. And yes, I’ll drink some soup.
Despite it all, I still love her. She’s my mother, and without further adieu, listen to these songs, and remember how much your mother does for you, in the good, happy time and in the days all you want to do is sulk in your bed, but she won’t let you.
1.) Momma Said (There’d Be Days Like This) by The Shirelles
2.) Your Momma Don’t Dance by Loggins and Messina
3.) Mother and Child Reunion by Paul Simon
4.) Take Your Mama by the Scissor Sisters
5.) Motherly Love by Frank Zappa & the Mothers of Invention
If you didn’t hug your mother yesterday, do it today. Do it every day. Tell her you love her.
She’s your momma…show her you love her.
The weather gods continue to hate me.
The one morning I was gung-ho enough to set my alarm and actually get myself out of bed in the name of nature appreciation and exercise, what does the weather decide to do? It decides to snow. In April! Again!
Is it really too much to ask for the sunshine to hold out for an entire weekend instead of enticing us Friday afternoon when all of society is breaking free from the shackles of employment, bursting forth from the educational classroom, or finally letting their head rest easy from a hard week of mental functioning?
It must be. This has happened twice now, and both of those times? I was stuck behind a desk working and watching longingly out the window at the warm sunshine and the lucky souls who ran by on the lakewalk soaking up the sunshine. Each person who ran by, I became filled with a raging jealousy. My body needs the sunshine. Everyone’s body does. It’s the Vitamin D. It probably would help my mood situations a little more. My thoughts would be far less depressing if I could soak up the sun more than what is filtered through my car window as I drive to and fro with my business.
Other than hating the sudden oncoming of snow in the midst of what should be spring, I had a few thoughts. These thoughts have sprung up due to various things. Reading The Hunger Games, watching Minority Report last night (better than I remembered) and having an undying obsession with Star Wars and Lord of the Rings helps this current state of thought.
“We are living on this planet as if we have another one to go to.”
The words of Terry Swearingen, an eco-activist.
I wholly agree with her. Along with the fictional situations I have named above, real events have also influenced my train of thought. The constant battle with the Middle East and within our own borders concerning the depleting oil supply, rising gas prices, the need to preserve more natural land, putting and taking off names of animals from the Endangered Species list, the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico a few years back, the unusually warm temperatures happening everywhere, earthquakes in Virginia and Olklamhoma…I mean, what the hell is that? They’re not even on fault lines.
Anyways, have you ever read something like The Hunger Games or watched a movie like Star Wars and wondered if our society could end up like them?
When I read The Hunger Games, one thing that really struck me was how plausible I could see North America turning into these 12 Districts with economical specialties. But, beyond that, how one sector of people could come to have all the power while a majority of our country’s people struggle to make it from day-to-day. Constantly laboring for someone else’s benefit, and always being up the fear of being squashed the instant you step out of line. Using nuclear power as a threat and peacekeeping device. I can actually see this happening to our country in the not-so-distant future. I almost feel like its starting to happen now…like this whole ‘I am the 99%’ business.
It’s a bit scary. You’ll understand my comparison a bit more if you’ve already read the books, but it’s still a frightening concept to me. It could really happen, our country turning upon itself. It happened once, and it was called the Civil War. Granted, they were warring over slavery (that’s the easy description of that war, anyways), but I could see the 99% trying to overthrow the government, or the Capitol, and our entire country just being thrown into a massive war. I would hope we wouldn’t end up having to throw our children into a Gladiator-esque ring to battle to the death as a reminder of the great loss of life for our way of living…but I can’t see into the future, so I guess we’ll wait and see.
A bit of a morbid thought, but what can you do?
At the same time, have you ever looked far further into the future and wondered if we’re headed into a Star Wars-esque way of living? Starship travel, thousands of planets filled with human and alien inhabitants. Is Earth destined to be an equal to Coruscant? Are we bound to be the city planet with hundreds of levels (and that’s only above the surface of the planet’s crust)? Will we communicate with holograms and comlinks and eventually duel with lightsabers and blasters?If this is indeed the future of planet, not just our country, I hope to the high heavens I get to see if happen.
I mean, come on! I want to see the invention of the first actual lightsaber, and be there for the construction of the Jedi Temple. Oh you know the Jedi are going to exist when society takes a turn towards this technological age. You just wish you were a proclaimed Jedi along with the rest of us.
Many of these things are entirely possible of happening to some degree. Did you attend Coachella this past week? I didn’t myself, but I heard enough about it go wonder where technology is going to take us next. The rapper Tupac performed via hologram at the concert. This guy has been dead for years now, and by no means has his following lessened any. It’s probably grown stronger, but that’s not the point I’m trying to make. The point is we have the ability to create performers, dead or alive, out of nothing. What does this mean for the entertainment business? We no longer will have actual performers aka dancers, singers, actors/actresses. They can all be replaced, and that’s a frightening concept for someone who is active in the performing arts.
Would you want to be replaced by a computer or a holographic image? I didn’t think so.
But enough of this serious talk. It’s the weekend, after all, and I’m ready for a great night out! A friend is in town to visit, and I couldn’t be more excited to see her and talk life with her.
With that in mind, I’m sure many of us will be hitting the bars this evening and there is sure to be lots of eye candy. Want to take him home for a night of pure fun, or possibly see it blossom into something more serious? First, you need to know how to flirt. Not just the obvious ways either. You, being the Modern Jedi that you are, want to be more coy than that. Be seductive in a mysterious, come-hither way.
Here are 12 ways to flirt without saying a word:
1.) Smile. For real. With teeth.
2.) Friend him on Facebook, obviously. You know you’re going to have your iPhone within an arms’ reach anyways (But don’t poke! Never poke. It’s creepy.)
3.) Grab his arm during the scary part.
4.) Hand him a copy of a book you think he’d like, with all your clever marginala scribbled inside.
5.) Dance! With him or not.
6.) Arm wrestle. Thumb war. Anything that gets you both a little competitive (and OK, holding hands.)
7.) Just be really, really good at whatever it is you do — tamale making, number crunching, karaoke. He’ll notice.
8.) Touch him somewhere un-erogenous — wrist, elbow — but also unnecessary.
9.) In your Netflix queue: French movies only.
10.) Invent a little gesture that says, “You. Here. Now.”
11.) Nudge your dog to flirt with his dog.
12.) New target? Repeat all of the above that worked!
Hope these tips help. Feel free to use them on anyone…be it the new guy making eyes at you from across the dimly lit bar, or the adorable guy in the movie-postered cubicle next to yours that you’ve been eyeing up for months now. Just go for it.
As always, be safe out there and watch each other’s backs.