I literally just typed three different starting sentences to this posting, and deleted them all. Flat out. Finger finds the ‘Delete’ button and holds on for dear life.
It’s Monday. What else do you want from me? Seriously, I cannot tell you how much my fingers do not want to type right now. They’re been typing all day long. Strange to hear me complain about typing when I’m a writer. A self-proclaimed writer, and how else does one write these days for fear of their house burning down and taking everything with it?
However, there’s nothing like opening a brand new notebook and staring that pristine white paper. Lines crisp and blue. So blue you find yourself staring at the veins in your arm and you realize the blue colors match. The veins might be a touch bluer. The lines so close together you wonder how your handwriting could possibly fit between those itty-bitty lines.
Then, you put your pen tip to the page, and you just start writing.
It could be gibberish. It could be brilliance. You just keep writing.You write because you have to. My fingers start to hurt when I haven’t written for a good stretch of time. Seriously. It sounds a bit psychotic, but its true. It’s like a doctor who hasn’t operated in several weeks. They just need that scalpel in their hand and they need to cut, cut, cut.
That could be the Christina Yang coming out in me. My sister exclaimed the other day while sitting at her laptop. Netflix let her know Season 8 of grey’s Anatomy is now available on Netflix. There goes the next so many hours of my evening in the upcoming weeks. I haven’t watched that show in what feels like forever. Yet, I somehow remember what’s going on.
“Beautiful women seldom want to act. They are afraid of emotion and they do not try to extract anything from a character that they are portraying, because in expressing emotion they may encourage crow’s feet and laughing wrinkles. They avoid anything that will disturb their placidity of countenance, for placidity of countenance insures a smooth skin.”
Those are quite the stinging words of Laurette Taylor, tops in early twentieth-century theater. However, I have shed my fair share of tears in the past 24 hours, and it was without fear of how “ugly” I look. Emotion speaks volumes, and it’s a terrifying thing, to feel something beyond our control. I had to ask the question the other day, “Why do we cry when we’re sad?” I dont’ have the slightest clue, but I sometimes wish we expressed sadness in other ways.
It stings, yes, but how very true her words are. I can thin of one solid example of why this is ludicrous, and yet oh so true. Charlize Theron was heavily hailed as a true contender for her portrayal of Aileen Wornos in the film “Monster,” and she later would win at that year’s Oscars int he category of Best Leading Actress. Not only was she hailed as glorious for her acting abilities, but she was also praised for her ability and fearlessness when it came to her appearance. She was able to “ugly up” for her part, and really “lose herself in the role.”
The main thing they did to her, make-up wise? Shaved off her eyebrows. Daring, yes. Daring enough for a seasoned actress and worth all the critical acclaim based on her appearance alone? I don’t think so. Let the work speak. Not the eyebrows. I’m sure there are plenty of teenage girls out there who thought they had an easier solution to taming their eyebrows by using a razor versus a tweezers or wax strip.
Getting rid of your eyebrows is not a new phenomenon. Teenage girls have been doing it since the beginning of time as they try to master the art of Tweezing.
I spent way too much time this past weekend crying my eyes out. I will never understand how certain people don’t blink an eye at the generosity that has been bestowed upon them. They didn’t ask, but kindness was spread to them because it was clear they needed it. It was clear help from outside hands were needed, and so what do people with great, great hearts do? They open their arms, their minds, and more importantly their hearts to you. They give everything you could possibly need because it was written across your forehead: “I need help, but don’t know how to ask for it because I have found myself in a giant hole with not a shovel to dig my way out.”
After all this kindness, what happens? Childish behavior is what happens. “I’m going to act like a 13-year-old girl because I have nothing better to do with myself.” You have no money, so you mooch off the one providing a living for you (and then complain to your family you are being controlled and manipulated…yet you openly refuse to get a job.) You have a child, but refuse to act like a mother. Instead, you push your son off on everyone else you actually does care for him because, well, you know we can’t say no. Because we care about the welfare of that little boy more than you ever will.
Your priorities? Staying out until 5 in the morning after staying out at a bar until 2 am, or you head out to a dance club near a military base where a large handful of men away on leave are not so subtle in what they’re looking for on weekend evening. What the hell is going through your mind? You have a son at home. Don’t you want to be home with him? Apparently not. You’d rather get drunk, and then sleep until noon when your son needs you up to feed and change him. To take care of him.
All things a mother shouldn’t have to think twice about. It’s no longer about you, you, you. You have someone depending on you. Don’t screw it up or you will have this Jedi to deal with.
I have dealt my hand. You hurt that little boy, I will not stand for it. Get your act together. You’re not a teenager anymore. You’re an adult with real adult issues. Stop acting like the world owes you everything when you barely lift a finger to help the world, let alone those who have given you a place to stay, food to eat, and a car to drive.
Yet, you shit all over everyone. If reincarnation is indeed real, I hope you come back as a leech. It’s what you are now, so it really wouldn’t be much of a change for you. Latch on, suck them dry, and move on to the next. Encounter something you don’t like? Bite and bite again. Because hurting someone is always the answer. It definitely makes it easier to forgive you later down the line.
I have no respect for certain people anymore, and I honestly fear for them if we are ever left alone in a room together. When my mouth starts going, and I am fueled by this burning desire to smack you upside the head in the hopes it will straighten things out up in your noggin, I’m not that fun to be around. In fact, I am downright frightening.
Don’t cross me. The more I cry, the harder I hit.
Especially when family is on the line.
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 🙂
I was finishing a week where I worked 57 hours between both jobs, and I was just plain tired coming off the 4-day rounds of doubles I put myself through. Not entirely my fault, since I don’t have a say in my schedule at one such job other than to say here is my availability, now please schedule me. I didn’t have to agree to help out when our other part-time evening desk clerk quit, but what can I say? I’m a team player and don’t like leaving people hanging when I can help it.
With that in mind, I walked through the door of my apartment and had nothing on my brain other than wanting to relax with nothing to bother me. The last time I felt super relaxed was when I zoned out (and eventually konked out) in front of the TV was after I allowed myself the luxury of taking a bubble bath. That’s right. A bubble bath, and not just any sort of bubble bath. When it comes to this sort of relaxation (and my body needing to just be for a solid amount of time with no stress whatsoever on it if I could help it), you have to properly set the mood.
Setting the mood might sound like something you need to do if you’re planning on sharing a bath with your special someone, but guess what people. When you’re taking care of yourself, you need to spend extra time taking care of you as much as if you were trying to impress that certain someone. Don’t sell yourself short, especially after putting yourself through almost 60 hours of work in one week.
So…setting the mood. I grabbed a variety of candles, poured the bubble bath into the running water and let myself inhale the soft lavender scent. Creating the right atmosphere for relaxation should take a little work, but not a ton. Like the candles. They offer enough light so I can read a nonsense magazine while I’m soaking in the bubbles, and they offer a really soft, sexy light to everything in the room. My clothes now laying on the bathroom floor appeared to have a naughtier tale to tell while basking in the glow of candlelight compared to how they looked when bright flourescent overhead lights flood the room.
I don’t usually take baths, so it’s a fun little experience every time I run myself one. While the tub fills with the hot, sudsy water, I like to take the time to put my hair up in a bun or ponytail, just something that gets the hair off my neck. I recently found this really super soft headband at Pier 1 I like to use whenever I take a bath. It’s tight enough to keep those pesky loose hairs off my neck and shoulders (I have a shorter hair-do, so when the hair goes up, it doesn’t necessarily all stay in the hair binder unless it has a little help via bobby pins or a lot of hairspray), but not so tight it gives me a headache in 5 minutes after putting it on. After putting my hair up, I’ll find a soothing movie score to put into my music player (funny enough, the Amelie soundtrack is really great to listen to while soaking in the tub) or I’ll just turn on the radio and listen to the random conversations DJs always have with their listening audience.
Once the bath is ready, I’m in heaven. I’ve modified the process for now, but when I put a bath tub in the house I’m eventually going to grow old in, there is going to be a padded section at one end of the tub for when I take bubble baths like these. My head and neck need a place to lean against and the hard, porcelain rim of the tub is not the ideal place.
If I’m not reading a magazine or a book while in the tub, I’m probably closing my eyes and letting the music take over the thoughts consuming my mind. Let’s just say that’s not always a good thing…OR you coul say its a very good thing.
“Just because I don’t do bad things doesn’t mean I don’t have bad thoughts.”
I’m taking your words for a sexier spin, Ms. Kristin Kreuk, a small screen starlet.
Like I said, there’s just something about candlelight and the glow it casts about the room…or the people in the room. Plainly put, candlelight is sexy. Maybe there’s a reason ‘sexy photos’ always have a ton of candles adorning the room where the action happens. Certainly doesn’t help when certain men are on the mind, either…Oh, Ryan Lochte, you’ll never be far from my mind whenever I immerse myself in water.
It also helps with the sexy feeling when you step out of the bathtub and rinse yourself off with a quick shot of cold water to get any leftover bubbles off your skin. Immediately after that? Slip into a silky robe, and maybe have a glass of wine (or water, whatever your fancy) and continue to lounge. No worries, no cares…and if you’re feeling like getting a little saucy with that special someone, be sure to do it while the sexy mood continues.
Otherwise you’ll just fall asleep on the couch like I do every other time I’ve let myself enjoy a bubble bath.
But if self-therapy isn’t enough of a way to cause you to relax, maybe a little retail therapy would help with that. Cue up your laptop, top off that glass of wine, and let the online shopping spree begin! Here a few things to watch for during the rest of August if the shopping bug has bitten you:
– School Supplies
– School Clothes
– Summer Clothing (specifically bathing suit and sandals!)
– Linens and Towels
– Lawn and Garden Equipment
This week has joined itself with the previous weekend, and I am just stuck on trying to remember what day it is.
This is what happens when you work too much. Get some relaxation in and…I dont know…let the sexy reign.
Two days after the festivities have ended, I am still exhausted with my body still trying to recover. Probably doesn’t help that my eating habits have been incredible erratic all weekend long, and in the hopes of recovering from said weekend, I ate too few of meals with too much time in between OR I snacked way too much on chocolate gold coins, Texas caviar, blanco cheese dip and leftover Subway sandwiches to make much of a difference.
That’s the way of life after a wild weekend like I’ve just had, right?
In case you were wondering, the Bridal Shower and Bachelorette Party rocked out the weekend hours without a hitch. My stomach hurt so much the next morning from laughing. Just…so much fun. My sisters, our cousins and the friends along for the ride sure know how to have a good night. It wasn’t a wild night where things happening in Vegas stay in Vegas, but it was a blast nonetheless. If I could relive the weekend in its entirety, I so totally would. To say I like being in charge of events like this is an understatement.
I adore it.
Seeing as how my brain is a bit fuzzy from everything still, I’m not going to give too many details on the happenings of the weekend just yet. I will later on…hopefully after a full night’s rest here. What am I saying…I’m too wicked to rest.
I was able to schedule an extra day off where I could stay home with my folks on the farm and just relax for a solid 24 hours. It wasn’t easy telling myself to chill out, especially when my other siblings are in the midst of packing up their bags and gear to start their treks home, back to their own separate lives. It may not have shown on the outside, but every time a backpack or a duffel bag was thrown into the trunk of a vehicle, my stomach lurched. My brain would scream, “Get going! You’re burning daylight! You should be working on SOMETHING!”
I may have a few screws loose.
Not as soon as I would like, but my nerves and anxiety eventually drifted away and I was able to grab a book from my overnight bag, sit on our back porch with a cup of coffee, and read to my heart’s content. I forgot how nice it is to lose yourself completely in a fictional story.
My latest read of choice? Songs of the Humpback Whales by Jodi Picoult. I absolutely love everything about her writing and her stories. I own half of her entire collection already, and will soon be owning the rest. An entire section of my Books Only bookshelf will be dedicated to her (when I have the space to have a Books Only bookshelf anyways.) I highly recommend her novels. Pure wonderfulness, and her most known novel My Sister’s Keeper is the only book to date that made my shed actual tears while I was reading.
I don’t cry when I read. I just don’t, but that book opened wells of tears for an entire night to the point where I had to put the book down to gather myself before moving on.
Not only did I finish this book of Picoult’s, but I read two other Star Wars books in their entirety as well. I suppose after a chaotic weekend like that, one can easily lose themselves in the worlds and problems of another person or in another Universe before focusing on the post-party organizing and cleaning.
But that extra day not only allowed me time get myself put back together along with a congratulatory pat on the back for throwing not one, but two, great parties in 36 hours, it also gave me time to catch up with my bestest of best friends: my mom.
I don’t understand it when people say they dislike their parents. Sure, when I was 13 years old and coming into my own (with thousands of swirling hormones screwing up everything), I disliked my parents. We argued and fought because I couldn’t wear the things I wanted or go out past 10:00 pm on a school night. They wouldn’t let me date nor could I be on the computer for more than 2 hours at a time (even for school work). I had chores to do and it didn’t matter if I didn’t get home until 10:30 pm due to a basketball game. I still had to go out and do them, then come in, clean up, and start doing my homework for the night. I didn’t talk to her about boys. Heck, I don’t even think she knows my very first kiss happened when I was 15 years old! We simply didn’t talk about boys…it was, as they say, too embarrassing.
Yet, I could talk to her about the biology of my body and my period without a problem. Go figure.
“My bottom is my delinquent daughter. I lavish praise upon her cheeks when she’s well-behaved and when she gets out of control, I pretend she isn’t mine.”
Now, I am perfectly aware that Anna Johnson, author of The Yummy Mummy Manifesto, is speaking of her ass-sets, I’m sure, but I also couldn’t help but think about how I’m sure my mother regarded me at times. I’m sure my mother preferred to worry about her back-end than what trouble I was getting myself into at times. I’m all 99% sure she wished her back-end was the worst of her problems when I was just coming into my teen years.
I was a handful. I’m not going to deny that one bit.
I’m so happy my mom and I can sit around our fire pit, drinking margaritas, and talk about everything going on in our lives. I even gave her the entire lowdown on what’s been happening in my dating life for the past couple of months. (Okay…so maybe I didn’t tell her every single nitty-gritty detail. I don’t want my mother having heart palpitations for a week straight.) But she is, and always will be, my bestest best friend. She knows me better than anyone ever will, and that’s saying something.
I told her straight to her face that she could never, ever leave me. I wouldn’t accept it. This was also after I tried with all my might to save a batch of cookie dough, but just wasn’t doing something right. I was throwing handfuls of flour onto the clump, I was barely touching it with the rolling pin or handling it with my bare hands. Somehow, I just couldn’t get it to stop sticking to my rolling pin to save my life. What happens? My mom comes over, adds one more handful of flour, kneads it like a ball of bread dough, and it rolls perfectly. How am I supposed to be a successful adult when I can’t even make a simple thing like sugar cookie dough?
My mother is a Jedi Master, I’m sure of it.
If we were sitting in a visual setting right now, you’d see me sitting in the back of the room, head in my hands and shaking a furrowed brow at the table top. Not in disgust. In utter amazement at myself.
Okay, maybe a little disgust at my mental capacity to blank out of reality on a regular basis.
A small confession to make: I’m a little behind the times, and completely lost track of what day of the week it actually is. If you lived the schedule I have, you’d get your days messed up and confused just as easily.
So, my confession is quite simply this: I didn’t acknowledge that it was July until my supervisor walked by me at work this morning, chitchatting with me as she beelined for the bookcase behind me, and I slaved over my current project of the hour. She asked how my summer was going, and I replied with an enthusiastic, “It’s going great! So much is happening, and I’m loving the weather.”
Her reply to my statement: “I totally agree, although I feel like I slept through all of June. Where has the summer gone? It’s the 4th of July tomorrow already!”
She proceeds to walk away, and I stare at the bookcase she had been perusing mere seconds before. It’s July…July 4th in less than 24 hours…and I’m only realizing this now?
WTF?! What have I been doing for the last month of my life? I totally acknowledge that my birthday happened about a week ago, and I had been looking forward to that for some time, but what about the time that seems to have eclipsed since then? Apparently my brain decided time was going to stand still on the day immediately following my birthday.
If only I was so lucky.
So, summer is just about half over. If anything is going to throw a wrench in my day, that’s going to be it. This realization that summer is fully upon us, and what have I done with myself? It wouldn’t be fair to say I haven’t done anything. Not true. I have done a small amount of exciting adventures. Some I’ve told you about. Others are meant for only me to know until my dying day. What are they?, you ask.
I’m not about to tell you any time soon, so just stop asking already!
I do have to say I haven’t gotten out to the beach nearly enough this summer. I broke out of the gates right away when we had those ungodly nice days in May when I was fresh out of school, but I haven’t really been back since. A day here and there, but nothing substantial, and my skin color is starting to be the same shade as everyone else. Bronze, bronze and more bronze.
I need to be a part of the More Bronze category. Anybody else hear my competitive side kicking in, or am I the only one? I am who I am. What else can I say?
“The feminists took me as a role model, as a mother. It bothers me. I am not interested in being a mother. I am still a girl trying to understand myself.”
Isn’t that the understatement of the century? I barely understand myself. Hell, I have barely scratched the surface of who I am or who I’m going to be. You hear that, Louise Bourgeois, the lady credited with founding confessional art.
While July fills me with melancholy, nostalgia and grief that summer’s end is on the distant horizon, it’s also a great reminder that summer is here and it’s here to stay. Because I barely know myself, there are a few things yet to look forward to that I haven’t accomplished for this season of sunshine:
– Bonfire and Beer on the beach
– the State Fair! (I know, I know…not until August, the true ending of summer)
– Playing Frisbee on the beach
– Finding the perfect summer alcoholic beach beverage (and an inconspicuous container in which to carry it in)
– Adding a few more sundresses a la Kate Middleton to my wardrobe
– Cleaning out my closest to make room for said sundresses (saving that one for a rainy day)
– Four-wheeler ride through the hay fields back on the farm
– Watching ‘The Dark Knight Rises’ on the big screen on opening night (OMG!)
– Attend a summer street festival of sorts
– Go Camping!! (I have a new obsession I think.)
– Wake up earlier than the sun to watch it rise over the lake (coffee is definitely expected to attend)
– Find a new favorite walking path (preferably on the beach)
– Road trip down to the cities to reconnect with college friends and drink ourselves silly (aka SHENANIGANS!!)
– Jump into a pool with all my clothes on
– The One-Man Star Wars Show (still need to get my hands on tickets…and soon!)
And I’m sure there are a million other things I want to do, but this list could go on for a while, so I’ll just stop now.
My main mission tonight? Getting everything assembled for the pending Bridal Shower and Bachelorette Party taking place this weekend. YES! The time has finally arrived, and I’m very calm headed about everything right now. I have quite a few phone calls to make, and I’m procrastinating on them for what reason, I’m not too sure. Because I hate talking on the phone? My vote is yes on that one.
It’s all going to go swimmingly, and I just cannot wait. It’s going to be a night they are going to remember, that’s for sure. I only hope they remember this is for my sister, and it’s her night. Everything I planned is because I knew she’d enjoy it, and if they stop being prudes for more than three seconds, I know they’ll have fun with it, too.
Everyone is allowed a night where they can be a little naughty for once in their life.
What are a few things you have planned yet for your summer?
In case the temperatures are getting too sweltering for you, make sure to grab an ice-cold beer or two. Lots of water will help, as will your own personal fan. It’s scorching temps here, so wherever you are, remember to keep hydrated if you’re working extensively outdoors (and no, I do not mean have another margarita while lounging by the pool.)
H20, people, H20!
It’s the real Aqua de Vida.
You know how you’re in for an exciting job? You’re in the middle of training for your new position, and considering the natural disaster that has rocked this city as of late, what else should happen but a massive power outage.
That’s right…I got sent home from training due to a power outage.
It’s probably a good thing I was sent home. I would have gotten in the way unless I was the one standing by the door directing people out of the place so there would be no accidents of any sorts. (Wouldn’t it be wicked if I went back next week only to find out a murder mystery has plagued the place? And I’m the only innocent one because I left the building? Dum dum dum! Okay, so my imagination is running a little rampant at the moment. Get over it!)
Anyways, I was left go an hour and half early because of the massive power outage, so what else do I do with my free time? I come in to my other job and attempt to work, but I end up talking with more people about the flood than anything else. I’m also half watching last year’s Star Wars Weekend’s ‘Dancing with the Star Wars Stars’ on youtube currently. The theme was Rock N’ Roll. Not too shabby, but the year I was there in person was much better.
Who am I kidding? I can’t stop at one video. So while I type to you, I’m also about to watch the 2012 version of ‘Dancing with the Star Wars Stars’.
Dressing up as a member of the Star Wars universe and dancing to some pretty great music in Hollywood Studios as a favorite Star Wars character sounds like a dream come true. Not only would i get to embrace the artsy side of myself, indulge in my guilty pleasure of performing for a live audience, but I’d also get to be a part of my favorite franchise of all time: Star Wars!! I could be Princess Leia, or Ahsoka, or Adi Gallia, or Zam Wessel, or Aurra Sing!
Hell, I’d even be Chewbacca in that furry suit and stilts!
Little bit of a side note, but I’m only 3.5 minutes into this video of the 2012 Star Wars weekend of Dancing with the Star Wars Stars, and I’m already giggling like a school girl. The Cantina Band knows how to bust a move! Seriously, they are one of my favorite groups of all time.
That group of aliens dances better than I do! Even with their bulbous heads! I don’t care…I lvoe them as they are.
“God, I can be difficult when I want to be.”
Those are the infamous words of the Dame herself, Judi Dench.
When it comes to talking about my love of Star Wars, there is no one more diehard then myself. One such subject that proves this? When asked how I feel about the latest three films that came out (or, the prequels, as some call them), I often say they don’t hold quite the same magic as the originals. Let’s just face it, they don’t.
They continue to add a new element to the story we all love so much and hold near to our hearts. People can rant about how much they hate them, how the new Star Wars are nothing compared to the old ones, and even I can rant about the things I detest about the prequels along with everybody else.
In the end, however, I will love them for being a part of the Star Wars universe. They’ve added and expanded on parts of the universe for me in ways the originals can’t. They’ve expanded my realm of the Star Wars universe.
Nothing will ever replace the originals. Nothing. And if I live long enough to see someone try to remake them, I will make sure they never see the light of day every again. I’ll go all Lord Vader on them.
Star Wars is one trilogy that should never, ever be remade. Ever. (However, I can hear some of you already…”The prequels were a remake of the originals!” I would disagree, but to each their own opinion.)
I’m forever a Star Wars girl. Always have been, always will be.
I started making my Birthday Wish list last night. It’s a little late in the making considering my birthday is in 3 days, but it’s getting done nonetheless. What items are gracing my list this year? Well….here’s an idea:
1.) Boba Fett headphones
2.) Star Wars playing cards
3.) a Star Wars baseball button down shirt
4.) a Yoda memory stick
5.) Episode 1 on DVD (it’s the only one I don’t own in this particular format…I only own it in VHS. Can you believe that?)
That;s just the start of the list. I always take cash, check, gift cards, you name it. If it’s currency, I’ll accept it. As long as it can be spent legitimately in the United States of America!
My loving is a good sort of loving, too.
Think cookies and back rubs. Oh yeah!
Until next time, my friends. May the Force be with you, and enjoy the 2012 Dancing with the Star Wars Stars!
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?
How awesome am I? Well, let me tell you. I just finished serving an 8-course meal after a notification of 15 minutes of my assistance being needed, and I served this 8-course meal in my strappy black heels and black polka-dotted dress without spilling a thing. I also never lost my footing, I didn’t trip over the power cord leering at me the entire night, and I happened to look fabulous the entire time I was on display. (It should also be noted that I didn’t JUST finish serving. By the time any of you read this, I’ve really been done with the event for a couple of hours now, but still…my feet would argue otherwise.)
Just goes to show that whatever everyone else does around here, I can do it just as well….and I’m doing the whole time wearing my high heels. How’s that for an ego booster?
I actually didn’t mind jumping in to give a helping hand like that. It kept my mind occupied. Otherwise I’d just be staring at my phone, waiting for a text to come my way or for my phone to ring. Before you start jumping to conclusions, no I am not waiting for all this cellular phone action to come from a particular guy. I’m not that warped into liking someone to have them occupy my every thought of the day. But to say a particular someone didn’t cross my mind at various points in the day, that would be a lie as well. So, of course, every time my phone buzzed, I did think it was this somebody. The heart is a foolish thing, isn’t it?
More importantly, I’m also hoping my phone will start buzzing with potential employers wanting to meet me for an interview. I’ve been sending out cover letters, resumes, lists of references with a kiss and a crossing of my fingers. Maybe this one, I whisper in my head, maybe this one will be the one.
So far my phone has remained silent. Granted, I’m going onto a week here with one or two of them. Time to turn proactive and make the calls myself and risk being seen as pushy. Or on the more positive side of thing, as a go-getter! But really…I tend to think negatively, so it’s going to be seen as pushy. Especially when I have no idea what is or is not appropriate to say over a phone to be like, “Hey I applied at your company. I was wondering what the status of my application is….Oh, you got it. Great.” Am I allowed to ask if we can set up an interview time right then and there? You would think I’d have the answer engrained in my skull after working in a Career Services office for 4.5 years of my college lifetime.
Between fretting about companies getting back to me and wondering if “he” will ever take himself up on his own words of “We’ll talk soon.” What the hell does that even mean!? And when I asked him why he always says that, his reply? “Have I ever not followed through on it? I’ve always talked to you shortly, haven’t I?”
I had to agree…Yes, this is true.
But, alas, my girlish brain is having a fit of its own. We last went out on Friday night. It’s Wednesday night. All I have received from him since is a single text saying this week is too busy, but how about next week? I told him that should work, and asked what worked best for him. No reply.
So…ensue girlish brain wall-punching and hair pulling. (Just so you know, the little girl inside my brain is doing all of this. On the outside, I’m as cool as a cucumber.)
If he really likes me, he knows how to reach me. (HA! Easier to type and to say those words than to actually believe they ring true.) But I also said I wasn’t going to talk about any of this here, but look what I’ve done. Blabbed it all out. It’s my curse as a writer. Ho-hum. I haven’t spilled any dirty details, and I don’t plan to any time soon on this one. Deal with it.
“My mom always said, ‘Men are like linoleum floors. You lay them right, and you can walk on them for thirty years.'”
HAHAHAHAHA! I love these words from the audience attraction, Brett Butler. Could she be any more right on with this? I think not.
I hate to admit this, but other than those two main concerns on my brain, that’s the way my cookie has crumbled in the last little bit since I last spoke with all of you. We’ve made it over the midweek hump, and it couldn’t feel more great to say that. As always, I have a few words of encouragement for you to make it through the rest of the week:
– Your dreams are more powerful than your doubts.
– You’re the best kind of beautiful.
– There are so many ways to succeed!
– Take a break. You owe yourself one.
– It’s time you saw how special you are.
– Your big moment is coming.
I’m going to hold on fast to that last one. I have to believe something bigger is headed my way sooner rather than later. I just cannot bear to think I might be stuck in these dead-end jobs for a long, long period of time. I know the statistic is that new graduates on average take 6 months after graduation to find that first Big Kid job. I’m hoping to break that trend.
May the Force be with you on this glorious day 🙂
It’s already one of those days. I’ve been up and at it since about 6:30 this morning, and I have another five hours to go before I can safely put my feet up for a rest.
But even that is wishful thinking.
I have three weeks worth of clothes sitting at the foot of my bed because I simply refuse to take the 10 minutes requires to hang everything back on its hangars or throw it in my laundry basket. I have 2 months worth of a weekly newspaper ready for my creative spirit to take hold so I can toss them appropriately. I have several posters and their frames waiting to be hung on my wall (poster frames are much needed due to the fact one or two posters kept falling down and as a result their starting to tear. I don’t want my beloved Star Wars posters torn to shreds!). I have stacks of paperwork that simply needs to be filed. It may end up being a movie, hard cider and catch-up night for me this evening.
Aww adulthood. How I love thee!
Last night was an especially late one, but for all the right reasons. Let’s just say my date went really well, and fingers crossed for the next one.
I had an interesting assessment made on my behalf by a friend the other night. We got together for coffee and it proceeded into a few beers. I honestly didn’t think we’d spend that much time together. I figured 2 hours tops to catch up on each other’s whereabouts and doings. The last time we had spoken more than five words to each other was back in December, and he was the one who cut the ties there. I tried to rekindle whatever friendship may have been there, but then he cut me out, so I stopped. I figured if we were meant to be friends, he’d come back.
Several months later, he did 🙂
So, we’re having coffee, totally nerding out over Star Wars and photography, then he asks if I wanted to grab a beer with him. I said, “Sure. Why not?” I haven’t seen this guy in three months, why not take the time to catch up and prove to him what he’s been missing?
While we were out, the conversation took an unexpected turn when he suddenly told me how much I range in the polar regions of my personality. Care to explain this? Oh sure, no problem. On one hand, there is me as the Farm-Girl-Chore-Doing-Jeans-Wearing-Boot-Kicking-Tough girl who knows how to work. Then, on the polar opposite end of the spectrum, I suddenly become the Geeked-Out-Star-Wars-Obsessive dream girl for any nerd out there. Then, on a third hand, there’s the I’m-An-Actress-Photo-Taking-Logo-Designing-Artsy gal hidden behind all of that.
If that’s not a strange combination of traits, I don’t know what is. But, it’s really awesome, he said.
How did I reply? I spread my arms to the heavens and cried out, “And that is why I will be single for the rest of my life!”
We both laughed really hard. Funny thing is, I’m pretty honest with that proclamation. But whatevs….
It took some admittance on my part, but I was really nervous to meet up with him after the last couple months of stone cold silence. What had I done to cause that sort of reaction? No, I was not being the crazy girl. We hung out a handful of times, we had a great time together each time we met up, and then suddenly, radio silence. Nothing. No explanation of any sort. Just a basic shutdown. For awhile, I honestly believed he was doing to me what I had done to him a few years back when we first met. I was dating him and my recent ex at roughly the same time. My ex and I had just started dating, and we were not 100% exclusive yet. I met this other guy, thought he was really cute, and when he asked for my number, I gave it to him. We hung out quite a bit, and we both felt the chemistry between us. But then it got to the point where I needed to make a choice: The guy who would become my Ex 1.5 years later, or the new guy who had already started to sweep me off my feet?
I chose the Ex, and proceeded to stop contact with the other guy. I’m sure that packed a powerful punch to his stomach, but like his sudden silence did to me.
Is it safe to safe we’re even now? I could have been upfront with him, but I was young, and dumb, and didn’t know any better. Like I’ve said before…Karma, she’s a bitch and she’s always watching. She strikes when it hurts the most.
“It worries me that people see pain as an alien thing. There won’t be any poetry written soon if everyone’s on an even keel.”
Spoken as if she was a Cancer herself, the words of the sensitive type, Susan Sarandon.
I pretty much dove into this topic more so in the posting directly before this one. The pain of the heart is a good thing. It means we let ourselves risk everything deep and sacred for something so much more. At least we gave it our all and tried. Emotions are an ugly and beautiful thing.
Ugly, mostly, because most people are ugly criers. Myself included.
As the weather continues to play with my heartstrings more than any man could at this point in time, what is a girl to do but either be driven back under the covers on a rainy day or be sent to the mall? All sources as of current point me in the direction of the mall. What are good deals to sniff out for the month of May? Let me tell you….
– Vacuum Cleaners
– Gifts for Mom
– Athletic Clothing and Shoes
– Linens and Towels
– Wedding Gowns
– European Vacations
– Home Maintenance Items
Don’t go too crazy all at once now. You also need to save a few dollars for the upcoming and unexpected rainy days.
Keep remembering those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for their country, too. They may no longer be with us, but they are no less forgotten. We will remember.