Great Comeback May 23, 2012

Short post because I’m swamped.  But this just happened and I’m about to cry from laughter.  You have to remember that my mom still thinks I’m virginal and has told me such as recent as two weeks ago.  She is honest and true, so sweet and innocent herself that she has no idea that ship left town oh…..what 17 years ago? If it was anyone but her, I’d have a hard time believing it.  PIC can attest.  She’s like Ms. Claus, but sweeter.

Anyway, here is what happened.

Me: AHHHH.  PLEASE stop calling me at work with the same question. I told you already and that hasn’t changed.  I love you.  Bye.  click

Coworker: What’s she bitching about?

Me: Bless.  She doesn’t want to pay closing costs on a timeshare she is selling.  She’s not listening to me when I tell her the seller will cover it if you stipulate they must.

Coworker: And she doesn’t believe you why?

Me: I don’t know. Not like I have attended no less than 50 closings and FUNDED them in the last couple years.

Coworker: She forgets things….. and when did you get a timeshare?

Me: Oh you’ll love this.  She got it “because I thought  you were having a kid with Paul.  And I wanted to impress the grandkid, but you didn’t.  So now I have no use for it.”

Coworker: Aw.  But did you tell her you were practicing really hard?

Me: laughing so hard I almost peed.

God bless you Coworker.

Life’s Frogs May 21, 2012

You know how you sit there mindlessly watching a tv show (aka doing laundry and making dinner while it plays in the background), and then all of a sudden you are like, “Hold up DVR! Rewind that…..were you totally just talking to me?  Did I for real just complete that sentence without knowing it?”  This was the case for your blogger here as I watched Glee on their quest for Nationals.

Yes.  I’m a Gleek.  I am almost freely admitting that these days.  Mostly because I know it’s a high school show, but they deal with some issues that are very much adult and very much my reality. (And, come on, who doesn’t love a good smash up medley?) Before you read on, know this is not a sad-sack post.  It’s a really happy post, just bare with me because it may not sound that way at the beginning.

Coach Beiste is a strong ass woman on the outside, but has a tender soul.  She’s married to a son of a bitch who goes by the name Cooter.  And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, he is the lowest form of male – he takes his anger out on her in all sorts of bad ways.  I was in the midst of cutting tomatoes and hear this:

Cooter: Don’t leave me! You can’t hate me more than I already hate myself.
Coach Beiste: I don’t hate you! That’s the awful part of it, I love you! But what does that say about what I think of me?
Cooter: What are you going to do, huh? Just walk out on me?!
Cooter: Who’s going to the love you the way I loved you! Who’s going to love you now?!

At this point, without hesitation or thought, I looked up from my cutting board and said, in unison with Coach Beiste, Me.

I hit pause, rewound the scene, pumped my fist in the air to my new heroine Coach Beiste, and smiled.  I’ve been in quite the introspective mood lately, likely due to long hours at work and getting to hold my brand new nephew that weighs a whole 4 pounds, 3 ounces.It’s amazing what looking into the clean slate of a newborn’s eyes will do to you.

I realized tonight that I played that exact scenario out hundreds of times with a different ending.  But now?  I DO love me.  And that’s actually more than enough.  Confetti, glitter……..whatever.  I have myself and my PIC.  And that, above all the other perks in my life?  That is better than any boyfriend or job ever could be.  I love myself enough to walk away from bad relationships, be they friends, boyfriends or professional.  I have a PIC to pick me up when I’m broken and put me back together in way better shape than she found me, without hesitation or “I told you so” ever coming in to play.  I swear that girl is an angel…

So, I’m just really grateful tonight.  Sure.  I could be sad, Lord knows I have my reasons why – we all do.  But why be sad when I have SO much to be grateful for?  Sure.  I’ve kissed a lot of frogs.  Well, maybe more than a lot……but that’s neither here nor there.  And sure, I make less money now than I did when I got out of college over a decade ago.  (AND OH GOD did I just say I graduated from college over a decade ago?) But, at the end of the day, I’ve found myself.  I couldn’t have done that without the frogs of life (and of course help from my PIC.)

Now, as I pop open a bottle of wine, I toast to the frogs – boys, bosses and otherwise – that have made me who I am today: A damn fine lady.  All this time I thought I was supposed to turn frogs into princes.  Who knew those frogs, warts and all, would actually turn ME into a princess?

Love to you all,

Me

Confetti May 16, 2012

I’m swamped at work, but here’s a quicky from PIC and I.  Remember the glitter story?  If not, read it.  You’ll appreciate this much more after.  Go ahead…. you know you want to.

Ok.  Hope you laughed at remembering that post and/or reading it.  And now, enjoy!

**********************

Me: I’m so tired of this BS!!!  He’s not even good enough to be glittery!!  He’s like… hell… I don’t know… sequins.

PIC: I’m sorry honey.  Sequins suck.

Me: No! Not even sequins.  Confetti. Damn paper confetti that gets everywhere and you can’t get it off of you. You think it’s gone, then you turn around and you find it again.

PIC: No-no-no.  You don’t DO confetti.

Me: And that’s blog of the day.  I don’t DO confetti.

***********************

And so it is.

 

Miss Fix It Blows a Gasket April 12, 2012

This pretty much sums up my week.

Yeah…. that’s about right.

You know how you always have that one go-to person.  The person you call if shit goes down because you know, regardless of how he/she feels about you or the situation you got yourself in, this person will pull it together, fix the situation and calm the storm.  Case in point, bail me out of jail at o-dark-30 am.

This week, it seems all I exist to do is spin gold out of poo.  That’s my week.  Actually, who am I kidding…in my profession? With my personality? That’s sort of my life story.

Thankfully it was not as bad as the “I can’t tell… might be dead or OD’d ‘lady friend’ in the hotel room of a prominent client” night that I had to handle once a few years back…. but here’s what went down this week….and the resulting meltdown.

1) I have been placed in charge of my sister’s baby shower.  Mom was supposed to do it, but for reasons I’ll leave out for now, she has kinda checked out.  This leaves me with the planning.  Great, right? Not at all. My sister can’t agree on anything with me for the blessed event except that she wants food there…lots of food.

I plan events.  It’s kinda my thing. I realize she has a different style. (Seriously, her wedding was pot luck, no alcohol, no music except my old jambox from 6th grade playing a mix tape, no speeches/toasts/etc., there were no centerpieces, flowers, table covers or decorations…and no wedding favors for guests.  Oh.  And I was forced to wear the most hideous bridesmaids dress on the planet.)

That aside, knowing that I am paying for this shower and people sadly DO expect more from me because of my reputation and skill set…. I am having a hard time working around being told finger sandwiches are “too uppity”; punch and tea are “stupid” and the only party game she wants to play is the disgusting one where you melt candy bars in diapers.  I was also told I’m jealous because this isn’t my shower….and that since I’m so “old” and “picky”, I’ll probably never have a shower of any kind.  Ouch. :’-(  I’m trying to behave with grace.  I just really wish mom would check back in for five minutes and let me breathe.

2) Work…. I have a new title and no raise.  I’ve worked no less than 50 hours this week, and it’s just Thursday. One of the things my boss tasked me with this week?  Getting a life size cut out of her deceased husband. She mentioned it before and I was always able to slide it under the rug and ignore her.  However, this week it has been brought up four times.  She wants this to take with us to our organization’s biggest event.  She plans to charge people to have their pictures made with it….then prop it up in her office.

Boss: And if you can make one that I can transport back and forth in the car like a human, that’d be great.

Me: only in my mind, but I thought DEAR GOD.  What the hell. Someone pour me a tequila.  She’s lost it.

She also asked me, again, to make sure I “record my time donated” to our non-profit arm of the organization so that I can take it off taxes next year. Key word here? DONATED.

3) I found out that I’ll be in a new city this weekend.  I fly out at 5am one day.  Will be back at 9:30pm the next day.  Fun?  NO. I’m being flown in to run interference.  Two siblings are having a baby.  Both boys.  One is her first kid, one is her second kid.  Both are due within days.  Cool right? Nope.  Sibling rivalry is on a whole new level.  I’m there to be sure one doesn’t take down the other.  To ensure both ladies have a good time and that both feel equally loved and attended to….even though the baby shower is only for ONE sibling and the other one is fuming mad about it.  For some reason, the parents think I can help.  I’m not sure.  But I AM SURE  that I will have wine.  Lots of wine…in a flask or two…that is TSA compliant because be-damn if I check a bag for a 24 hour stay.

4) I was called to deal with a 14 year old boy who lost his mom to suicide.  Last night he was over the edge crazy and his dad admitted he was emotionally checked out.  I went in, talked the kid off the ledge, literally, played basketball with him for hours, helped him cry, then put him to bed.  I didn’t eat dinner, but apparently I was emotionally drained enough that I did get four hours of sleep in.

This is a small insight into my week.  There’s more, but I don’t have the time nor the energy to write it.  A few minutes ago, I got a call from a “friend” and I think I may have had an aneurism, a stroke…. or possibly just a fit of rage.  I’m not sure.

So this “friend” is “oh that person” to most of my girls.  We all have one…the girl who is always whiney, never happy, and is uber selfish and clingy.  That’s her.

The rule amongst my friends? Unless we’ve said otherwise, don’t call me at work unless you are bloody, broken (hearts, bones and cars apply here) or need bail.  Email me.  Text me.  I swear I’ll answer quick as I can.

Well, this “friend” I shall now refer to as Bianca.  No offense to the readers out there that have or care for a Bianca, but I’ve never met one that didn’t make me want to claw my eyes out and shove sharp objects in my ears to dull the pain.

Bianca moved out of the state, but still has a home here.  I am supposed to water the plants and let in realtors as needed.  Bianca called last week saying she is “bored” and we had words about when it was appropriate to call me and when it was not.  I thought I was crystal clear.  Apparently….my don’t call unless its an emergency rule doesn’t apply to her.

Me: Hey Bianca – what’s wrong?

Bianca: Um. Why do you answer the phone like that? Nothing’s wrong.

Me: Because it’s work.  During my busy time.  You know this.  We discussed.

Bianca: Well, I just miss you and I’m totally bored at work. I miss my **married and has two kids who I told her never to mention in front of me because I think the whole thing is fully horrible** boyfriend- its our one year anniversary; and I have no friends up here; and I have nothing to spend my money on and the weather here sucks and I am just losing my mind I’m so bored….. So how are you?

Me: silence….I can literally feel the heat coming up in my face.  Y’all.  I think I blacked out for a second.

Bianca: Um. Hello! I said I missed you.  Why don’t you ever call me?

Me: BIANCA!!!! You are either completely stupid or completely selfish.  For the life of me I can’t figure out which.  You KNOW I’m busy.  You KNOW not to call unless it’s an emergency because I answer.  GOD HELP ME, I care about people and I answer. You want to know how I am? I am F***ING FANTASTIC!!!

I work overtime all the time for a boss who’s batshit crazy.  I make less money now than I did when I graduated from college and I just found out I owe $600 in taxes.  Where in the hell is that coming from? I have no idea! I have a dad who’s got dementia, a mom who’s checked out, a baby shower to plan IN ALL MY SPARE TIME for a sister who is acting like an ungrateful witch, my heart is actually breaking in my personal life, last night after a ten hour day I dealt with a 14 year old kid who’s mom just committed suicide and this weekend my motion sick ass has to be on SEVEN F***ING PLANES in 24 hours because I can’t afford the flights that are more direct so that I can referee two sisters who have no idea how lucky they are to both be married with kids and instead want to rip each others throats out.

Bianca: Wow. You sound busy.  And did you just say f***? I’ve never heard you say that.

Me: Wow Bianca.  That’s what you took from this? Yes. I’m busy. So unless it’s an emergency – and I mean a my body’s lying in a ditch emergency – send me a F****ING email or text like EVERYONE ELSE DOES.

Then I hung up on her.  And I must say.  I feel much better.

I need a shot though.  I’m really lucky that I took my call in our boardroom.  No one was able to hear my rant… the boss is gone for the day and the other staff was wherever the crap they go when they hide from working….aka not at their desks or on premise that I could surmise.

Cheers…and let’s all get tanked tonight. Ok.  Fine.  Just a glass or two of wine.  I promise.

Let’s Play. April 5, 2012

Most innocently I was tagged by a fellow blogger to answer some questions.  Or so I thought.  I will answer the questions, but I first have to explain what happened.

Y’all know I hate clowns.  I’d rather give birth without meds to a 20 pound child than deal with them.   So, my sweet fellow blogger SzaboInSlowMo tagged me in a post.  When I clicked, what I saw scared the ever living holy crap out of me.  I screamed,  flipped over backwards in my chair and had to blame an imaginary spider for my behavior.  What did I see?  That ATROCIOUS clown from It.  Yeah…that totally happened.  It was worse than the time the Eat Me lady was at my window.   Regardless, I promised I would answer the questions, so here goes.

Here are the rules:

1. Post the rules.
2. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post.
3. Create 11 new questions to ask the people you’ve tagged.
4. Tag 11 people and link them to your post.
5. Let them know you’ve tagged them.

And now for my question/answer session:

1. What is the last thing that made you laugh out loud?

Last night PIC and I were walking around discussing our day.  She always makes me wheeze with laughter.  Last night she told me a story that involved the phrases “Why God Why”, “Mama, Where’s my Pencil”, “I’m Afraid of Rain”, “And Other Fine Establishments” and “I Used to be Rich”.  It that made me cry. She has a really fun job. I should totally have her guest post.  Y’all would LOVE her.  You think my stories are funny? Oh hell honey… wait til you hear PIC.  Her delivery is impeccable.

2. Which sitcom family, new or old, most resembles YOUR family?

Without question, I grew up in Beaver Cleaver land.  Quintessential, idealized life.  Simpler times (small town); strong core values and ethics; trust everyone always to do what’s right.  In a lot of ways that was a cool way to grow up.  In a lot of ways it screwed me up.

3. Do you like your first name?  You don’t have to tell what it is–just WHY you like or don’t like it.  And if you don’t like it, what do you wish you had been named?

I do like my first name! I have a very common first name, but it suits me.  I used to hate it growing up because I was always one of four or five in class; however, of all of us?  I was always just called by my first name.  I never got the whole first name last initial thing from teachers or peers or anyone really.  I guess that must mean I’m an original, even if I do share my name.
4. What’s the last stupid thing you did?

Did you read the first part where I fell over in my office chair? Yes.  That was it.
5. You can have only one of these:  Looks, Fame, or Fortune.  Which do you choose and why?

Fortune.  You can buy looks with fortune and who really needs fame? Wow….I’ve never answered that so honestly before.  How great is being anonymous?
6. Name a musical artist that you like, but might cause people to make fun of you if they know that you like them.

Glee.  I’m in my 30s, so it’s not ok to be totally in love with a show about high school kids…so much so that you really want to invite all of them over to your house for dinner and gossip.  However, that’s where I sadly am.   I also know Glee isn’t really an “artist”….but I have all their albums and I sing them loudly….alone.
7. What is something you do that drives your significant other crazy?  If you have no significant other, substitute a parent or friend.

I always say I’m fine.  Always.

You: Hey, your arm just got lopped off by a zombie.  Are you ok?

Me: big smile, Sure, I’m fine.

You: Hey, you just lost your job.  Are you ok?

Me: Sure, I’m fine.

I have a very hard time admitting I’m not fine.  It’s like I fully believe that all hell will break loose if I admit weakness. All the people in my life know that “fine” is code for “I’m going to effing blow something up”. They all wish I’d just say that.  Most have tried to show me that it’s ok NOT to be fine.  But I still have issue.

So. If you ever do meet a girl who always smiles and says she’s fine? She probably isn’t.  She just wants you to hug her and say ok. She’ll know what you mean and be so grateful that you didn’t berate her about being/not being fine.

8. Name a celebrity that you just wish would go away.

I’m sorry…. and it makes me vomit a little to even use the word “celebrity” to describe this girl….but I hate Snooki.  I have no love for her, her poof, or rolled-in-doritos skin color.  I literally hurt myself trying to mute the TV or change the radio when her name is mentioned.  I hear she’s pregnant.  God help that child.

9. What adjective would people who know you most likely use to describe you?  Just one word.

Sweet.  Seriously, most of the time I’m like freaking sugar. I find the good in pretty much everyone and every situation, which means I can be taken advantage of if I’m not careful.  Come get you out of jail at 4am? Sure.  Call the girl you don’t really know. 

10. What’s your favorite smell?

I love so many smells…. but my most favorite, at this moment, is the smell of the ocean.  I think it’s because that smell symbolizes freedom, lack of stress, happy times and fond memories.  No in the can or candle smell even comes close to it….I’ve tried.

11.  What was your worst first date ever?

It’s not a secret.  I date a lot.  So when I say this is the worst date ever? You can be sure I’m sure.

I was set up on a blind date (strike 1) with a guy that I was told “worshiped me from afar for years” (strike 2).

All I knew about the guy (this was pre-google stalking abilities) was he was tall, nice body, cute and was in the PT program as a grad student. Sweet!  I lived in the sorority house at the time and was upstairs primping. I heard a horn honk.  No. Not just any horn.  This car horn played Dixie.

At first I laughed because what asshole has that horn?

Then I realized it was under my sorority house window.

And I laughed because what asshole doesn’t come in for his girl – rather just honks the horn.

Then I realized it was my date.

Every girl in the house was laughing hysterically…and those bitches totally pushed me out to meet him.

Ok. Weird horn, but nice guy? No. No he was not. He had the personality of a stump.  I’ve had conversations with walls that were more entertaining and genuine.  I tried my best.

Me: I’m really pleased to meet you. What do you want to do tonight?

Him: blink blink blink

Me: You look nice tonight. (He didn’t.  I lied.)

Him: I know.

Me: Oh…. well then.  So…I’m starving.  Would you like to go to dinner? (I wasn’t, but I was trying to make conversation.)

Him: Sure.

Dead silence in the car for ten minutes.  I tried everything.  We pull into a pizza buffet chain parking lot.  At this point, it was all you can eat for $1.99.

Him: Gets out of the car and heads towards the door of the restaurant stinky buffet place, leaving me in the car.

Me: O…k…. I quickly get out, smooth my skirt and scamper to catch up.

Him: Orders his buffet and pays, leaves me standing there.

Me: Um. I’ll just have a water. (I was a ballet dancer.  Pizza wasn’t really something I did much of, particularly on first dates while wearing a silk dress.)

Him: I thought you were starving.

Me: Yeah, pizza upsets my stomach (true fact). It’s fine.

Him: Well don’t pick at my cheese sticks because YOU didn’t pay.

Me: OK. No problem.

Fully silent dinner.  Then he gets up and starts walking away.  Is he going to the bathroom or leaving? I frantically determine he’s leaving. I scurry behind. We head to the movies, where he proceeds to pick out the most terrible film there (action+gore).

Him: So I’m seeing this. What are you watching?

Me: Um. I will see that with you….

Him: Ok, well pay for your ticket and let’s go.  But don’t buy any concessions. They are overpriced.

Me: *with a WTF look on my face* OK.

I sit in the movie and for some ungodly reason (how when someone had just been disemboweled) my stomach growled.

Him: You should have eaten.

Me: Yeah. Probably.

Him: Well. That’s not my problem is it.

Me: Take me home.

Him: But we are at the good part!

Me: F*@# it. I’m OVER this.  I’m out.

Him: Baby!  Please!

I walk fast as I can, praying he didn’t follow.  Unfortunately, he did.

Him: Look. If you’re gonna be this way I’ll take you home.  But I for one am having the best date of my life.

Me: HAHAHAHAHA!  WHAT!??  The hell?

Him: I mean this is awesome.  You are hot, charming, smart… best date ever.

Me: Exactly HOW many dates have you been on?

Him: Enough….

Me: Well, so have I. And sweetie, me storming out of  a theater? Not a good sign.

He took me home, tried to kiss me at the end of the night… I pushed him off and said, OH HELL NO.  Then I ran quickly away.  He called me incessantly and then spread a rumor that I was a big ol’ slut that wouldn’t date him because he wouldn’t sleep with me.  Awesome.

************

Here are the bloggers I’m tagging.  If you don’t want to be part of this, I totally get it.  If you do, or just need blog inspiration for a day, consider yourself tagged. These blogs are fantastic by the way- if you don’t read them, check them out!

• Dangerously Daydreaming
• laborofwonder
• Woman In The Middle
• The Bourbon Girls
• Deborah Bidwell’s Blog
• thebitchytruth
• Hella Sydney
• Commander In Chic
• Searching for Middle Ground
• Caffeinated Musings
• jessicasthoughtshere

Here are my questions for those of you I’ve tagged:

1. Tell me about your worst date ever.
2. What is your favorite blog post you’ve written lately?
3. What is your ultimate guilty pleasure that you can’t tell anyone (or very very few people) about because they’d totally judge you (tv show, music, books, hobby, etc.)?
4. What’s your favorite book or movie and why?
5. We all have phrases we use over and over again.  What’s your current catch phrase?  Mine, for example, is “oh hell honey”, courtesy of a little old lady at my gym.
6. Worst job ever.  What was it…and how did it end (or are you still there bless your heart?)
7. What character in TV or movies most describes you and why?
8. We all want to fly, be invisible or stop time.  But, what NON-traditional superpower would you like?
9. What is the one life lesson you really wish someone had told you sooner?
10. Tell me about the last time you saw, said or did something that made you go what the hell was that?
11. Create your own question.

Happy Friday (yes, it’s Thursday, but I’m off tomorrow so this is my Friday!)  Happy Blogging and I look forward to reading your answers!

Love,

Me

Taylor February 14, 2012

Y’all know my PIC.  Well, she shares the same first name with my other good friend…which is wildly confusing to most of the men in my life for some reason…and my mom…but I think she’s just half listening to me…..maybe the men are too…. but I digress.

I guess I should probably introduce her to you guys because although not as epic as PIC outings…. we have had a few interesting, blogworthy moments.   For this blog, she shall forevermore be known as Taylor.

Taylor is one of those girls that is a little polly-pocket of sass.  You don’t mess with her….. she’s all of 5 feet tall, 115 lbs, but she’ll take you down – in her pearls and cardigan.  She is sweet and southern, with an accent to match.  She is the kind of lady who is quiet and reserved until she knows you….or has vodka…but that’s a whole other set of stories.

Taylor was one of my friends that I lost to the unfortunate debacle of speedbump.  (That’s what PIC calls Paul.  I’ll have to ask her if it’s ok to say why.  But yes.  He was a speedbump in my otherwise beautiful life. I’m over him and happily so.) I’m so very happy Taylor is back in my life.  And… I am happy we still wear the same size because she has fabulous taste and I’ve missed her closet as well.

Today, Taylor texted me to see if I had plans with anyone for Valentine’s Day.  Here’s what happened:

Taylor:  Do you have any V-day plans?

Me: IDK.  Maybe.  No one special though. You?

Taylor: Yes. My guy is cooking dinner for me.  Are you ok?

Me: Oh totally.  Regardless of what I do, it’ll be better than last year… or the year before where I was asked to leave the restaurant because speedbump acted like an asshole.

Taylor: He’s a turd.

Me: Yeah he is.

Taylor: And you know what they say about turds?

Me: Um….that if you act like a turd, you have to go lay in the backyard.

Taylor: That is SO much funnier than “they stink”.  hahaha

Me: I try.

Taylor: Paul is a turd, turds belong in the backyard…therefore Paul belongs in the backyard with the rest of the turds.

Me: Who isn’t cleaning up their turds? Why are there so many in my backyard? I don’t even own a dog!!!  I need a sign that says NO TURD DUMPING.  I HAVE PLENTY.

Taylor: hahahaha.  I’m dying…..

Me: I love you darlin.  Have a great v-day with the boy…. and I promise to stay turd free.

Taylor: Bout time!  But if the turd is pretty, I know you.  All bets are off.

Me: I’m rolling my eyes at you. I don’t know the emoticon for that.  I swear on my unborn child….no more turds.  If I falter, you and PIC and behead me.

Taylor: Harsh, but suitable punishment.

Me: bahahaha

So… my dearest readers….please be Turd Free.  And if you see what asshat keeps dumping unwanted turds in my backyard?  Tackle her and hold her til I get there.

Love,

Me

 

On Love. February 13, 2012

Over the weekend I got into a debate with my mom about why people do stupid things for love.  It was centered around Valentine’s Day and veered into Whitney Houston’s death.  In that moment with my mom, I realized I was thisclose to being a Whitney not once but twice in my life.  It’s a deeply personal set of stories, but here goes.

The first mistake I made was a boy named Nick.  He was a model…and he was brilliantly smart.  I was young, innocent, impressionable and totally smitten.  He was my first everything.  First date, first kiss, first time I really really really lied to my parents, first person I had a drink with, first heartbreak and a million other firsts.

I was crazy about him in a way that still perplexes me.  And….he was horrible for me.  He introduced me to a world of excess and destructive behavior.  I overlooked every basic rule I was taught just because I really thought if I loved him hard enough, we would overcome and endure any calamity.  Nick and I were miserable apart, but he knew…oddly at such a young age…that we were terrible together.   I did too, but I couldn’t admit it. He was selfish.  I was selfless.  There was nothing I wouldn’t do for him, nothing I couldn’t rationalize away.  But, Nick loved me enough to know he didn’t love me enough.  It’s a horrible realization, but one that saved my life I’m sure.  Turns out? Saved his too.

After a long series of break ups and make ups, the final straw was a trip to NYC to visit Nick.  Suffice it to say what should have been a most special night ended abruptly with me turned out to the city streets alone.  A girl from a town population 1500 in a fully unfamiliar megacity….no one knew where I was…and a baby at that…. its a miracle I survived the evening.  Alone on a curb, I bargained with God.  If He would let me get home safe, I’d never put myself in that situation again.  It took every ounce of courage and strength I had to pick myself and leave.  I never looked back.  I never called.  I never emailed.  I won’t lie – that turned me hard and callus.  I was jaded and I know I hurt some people.  But I just didn’t care.  I thought they were all the same…so hurt or be hurt? I chose hurt.  Actually I chose flee without hurt if possible, but sometimes it just isn’t.

Years later, I ran into Nick at a fast food chain over a holiday back home.  Crazy right…but yeah, his modeling days were long gone and apparently he has a thing for fried food now.  Anyway, when I saw him I felt like a giddy teenager.  Then, I immediately felt suffocated and terrified.  We wound up talking in a back booth until closing, then we went to his car for more cathartic – re-hashing coulda-woulda-shouldas.

Finally, “that NYC night” came up. Turns out after I left, he felt so bad about hurting me so intensely and missed me with such veracity, that he drove further into his bad behaviors.  When that didn’t work, he checked himself into rehab, and vowed the only way he’d ever speak to me again was if fate intervened because that was the nicest thing he could do for me.

And as if it were a movie, I Will Always Love You came on the radio right then.  No kidding…. we both held each other and cried because it was so oddly poignant.  That was the last time I saw him.  I hear he’s married with a kid in the mid-west.  A far cry from the city lights and fast times of his youth.

And then… I met Paul.

Paul was, is, the mistake that almost killed me.  He was just like Nick – dangerous, handsome, smart, wealthy…. I was entwined in his life before I could think.  We were the “it” couple in most circles…but what they didn’t see was what Paul did in private.  His crazed temper. The alcohol.  The drugs.  The cheating.  It was Nick2.0 and I was too stupid to realize it.

My addiction with Paul spanned a decade.  I call it addiction because I think that’s what it was.  I couldn’t get out no matter how I tried.  All I could do….all I did…was turn myself off emotionally again because it was all I had left to do.  It hurts less if you are numb.  Have you heard that song Gravity by Sara Bareilles?  If not, listen to it or click here to read the lyrics.  The lyrics were exactly me.  I lost friends.  I lost family.  I lost myself.

All the bad things Nick did to me? Paul was worse.  Paul didn’t love me enough to KNOW he didn’t love me enough.  And my stubborn ass fought for him because I thought love was supposed to be fully unconditional no matter what torture or hell they put you through…that whole for better or worse thing you know?  I thought that part of love was pain and suffering. I thought that what I had was normal.  I forgave a lot.  I dismissed a lot.  I did things I shouldn’t have.

Eventually, by God’s grace, the insanity with Paul ended.  I’ve never been so simultaneously sad and joyous in my life.  The chains were lifted, but the gravitational pull of the relationship still sucked me in like a black hole.  In those moments of reflection, I realized that I had escaped again. Barely…..

Had I stayed with Nick or Paul, I would certainly have ended up dead.  Be that in spirit, or physically, or both – the momentum was already spinning precariously out of control.  And in some ways, I think part of me did die in each relationship.  My innocence, my ability to trust, my openness to love and be loved…those died. Can they be revived? I think so.  I’m working on it. I don’t know if I will ever full have the wide-eyed, small town, first love innocence again…. but that’s probably a good thing.

In thinking about the untimely death of Whitney Houston, I think how close I was to that path.  The world lost Whitney long before her physical body was gone just like the world lost me for a while.  I think that like me, she got involved with the wrong guy.  I think she wanted to love so much that she would have done anything to keep it, just a little more intensely than I did.  I think drugs and alcohol were an easy escape when the pain of the relationship was too much for any soul to brave.  It is so much easier to shove emotions and realizations that things are over underneath a rug, especially if the rug is a bottle of Jack….or whatever you poison may be.  It’s easier to forgive and dismiss someone’s behavior if it’s under a veil of substances.  No matter what he does, if you are turned off emotionally and can attribute it to some substance…. you last another day. I know.  I’ve done it.  I regret it.

I’m so lucky that I got out at the exact right moments.  No matter how much it hurt, life with either of them would have been so much worse.  I’m blossoming again.  I realize now that love…love is NOT what I thought.  Love should be pure.  Love doesn’t hurt you physically.  Love doesn’t scar you intentionally.  Love doesn’t emotionally break you…if it’s actual love.  And if it isn’t actual love?  Well…. do what you want, I’m not gonna judge…but just acknowledge it for whatever it is.  Real love is scary.  Real love is blind.  Real love melds two souls into one…but that doesn’t mean love should change your innate spiritual and ethical structure.

So my dearest bloggies, no matter who you spend your Valentine’s Day with, please make sure you keep your head.  It’s easy to lose track of yourself.  Remember how important you are.  And if you forget?  Ask your mom….or your best friend.  They are great for helping you remember.

Big hugs and Happy Valentine’s Day,

Me

Blast from the Past February 7, 2012

I normally use this space for funny jaunts through my insane life.  Today however, is different.

I was close friends with a group of guys in highschool.  We went to college together, then drifted apart.  I still think of them and the fun times we all had being silly, goofy kids…growing up together. Failed attempts to reconnect lead to years of separation. Now I no longer know anything about these guys, but I still think of them often.

Today, I got a text from one of these guys.  It’s literally been over a decade since we spoke last.  All it said was “Sweetie, I need a favor.”

Turns out his mom is ill and he’ll be staying with me tomorrow night.   But here’s the cool part.  He said that of all his friends, he always knew he could count on me if he needed me.  No matter how much time passed between us, that he always knew I’d be there for him no matter what it was.  It totally made my heart melt.

Some people might see this as a guy who just wants a free room, but I’m not that cynical.  This guy was there for me when I had my heart broken the first time…..and the second time.  He was there when I needed a date to my sorority formal because of that incident.  He was there when I decided I was going to run away with a boy (and he thankfully talked me out of that.)  He was there through pretty much all my firsts and worsts – making me laugh, holding me when I cried and reminding me that life is so much fun if you stop taking it so serious.  When you share all that, how can you not just drop everything and be there?  I asked him that question today.  He said, “Darling. No one ever would but you.”

Is it true? Am I really that good of a friend? I certainly always try to be….

I reflected on our moments together and it made me wistful for my younger days.  Days where all I worried about was whether or not I would get to sit beside my flavor of the moment boy in class; which ballet I would be in and what outfit I would wear to the horribly themed fraternity mixer of the day.

I’ve grown up a lot since those days.  In so many ways they were the best and worst of times. You never realize it until you are on the other side though -  older, stronger….and hopefully a little bit wiser.

Here’s to old friends, new beginnings and the promise of happier days.

Cheers!

 

I’m Mortified. February 1, 2012

Y’all – I completely embarrassed myself.

My phone, Svetlana, hates me.  She sends auto-corrected texts that get me in trouble, eats voicemails and erases texts before I see them.  PIC is usually the recipient of her wrath.  PIC laughs about it and doesn’t judge.  My mortifying moment? Not to PIC.  Rather, it’s a guy I’d rather love to impress.

Note: I’m not sure what name to give this guy, but I have a feeling he’s going to be in the blog more often. Until I come up with a real name for him, we’ll stick with B.

I was working on a work project and mentioned the lack of office equipment I had to do my job.  And then it all went to hell. 

Me: I miss my awesome orifice equipment…

B: What equipment did you have for your orifice?

Me: Idk…a faster printer for one

silence for a moment, then I read what I texted

Me: Oh no! I’m sorry! I meant office!!!  Damn Svetlana!

B: Hahaha. It’s ok, I enjoyed it.

So blogland, B is officially in the “I was attacked by Svetlana” club.  I think I should make t-shirts.  My friends should get something out of the deal right?

Back to work I go…. with shoddy orifice equipment.

 

 

Knights, Princes and Tin Foil November 16, 2011

Quite possibly one of the funniest conversations I’ve ever had.  It started out all serious, but my my how it ended.  Here is the background of the story and then the conversation that followed.  Enjoy!

*******************

Being in a bit of a love rut, my friend and I were chatting about how much Disney and the whole knight in shining armor thing is forced upon us as kids. Since birth, Disney tells girls that somewhere out there, there is a Prince Charming for all of us.  That we should never give up hope and always remain brilliant and beautiful because the knight in shining armor will come forth and save us from life as we know it.  I totally fell for it. Hook. Line. Sinker.

Come on…. don’t judge me because you ladies out there KNOW that you played princess at least once in your life.

I told my personal favorite princess time story to my friend: using a pageant crown and stealing mom’s heels and jewelry.  I would teeter walk to my room, climb on my canopy bed and scream to the top of my lungs “I’m here! Come save me!”  In retrospect? Not cool.  But, to mom’s credit, she ran to me the first time…and the second and third.  After that I was on my own.  Which is kinda the whole point here.  No prince or knight ever arrived, even after I had my own heels and jewelry to use and was in far more dire straights than being stranded in the middle of a canopy bed. I postulated that there are really only like .001% of the population that actually get their knights or princes.

And here is the conversation that ensued:

Friend: Honestly darling, I think I have found a real knight this time.

Me: Are you sure….because he kinda seems like a moron in tin foil to me.

Friend: laughs so hard she falls off the couch

Me: See. You think that too or you wouldn’t be laughing like that. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not judging.  Many a moron in Reynolds Wrap has stormed into my castle.

Friend: Did you just make a sex joke?

Me: NO! Um… but that didn’t sound good did it.  I just meant that they have attempted to ok… there is NO reference that relates to castles, moats or gates that doesn’t sound totally and overtly sexual.

Friend: My sweet girl…. you could use someone to storm your castle, and I mean that the way it sounds.

Me: This wasn’t the conversation I envisioned.

Friend: Which is why its awesome.

Me: I want a shirt that has Reynolds Wrap with a big X through it that serves as a warning:  I’m on to your tin foil wearing ass.  Bring me the armor or go home.

Friend: I’m so getting you that for Christmas.  It will also have the disclaimer warning them that there are dragons in your moat.

Me: BITCH!

Friend: laughing so hard I can hardly hear her…I’m just saying!  That would discourage everyone that wasn’t a real knight. Real knights slay dragons.

Me: I like that better as a disclaimer.

Friend: Fine.  I guess I can work with that.  But I’m still using something about moats.

Me: shake my head…. Yeah. I am sure you will.

I have some really awesome friends blog land…..maybe the next Disney movie should be about that – girl power.  Because the friends you have define who you really are even more so than the man you end up with….be he in tin foil or armor.  Because when he screws up, and when you screw up, your friends are always there to slap you, pour you a drink or plot revenge….whatever is most appropriate. Cheers to my girlies…..