Sha-BAM! Made it to 21. And while I'm up for a midnight snicky-snack, I thought I'd voice a little of what's on my heart as I flip past the last page of chapter 20.
Last year was a hard birthday for personal reasons. I was in a very adverse place in my life,
and it was a bit of a "just survive" day. Not so this year. Thank God.
I really believe it was just a series of unfortunate events over the past 5 or 6 years that has turned me into quite the "shutter-outer" of people. I never thought I'd see the day where I would become weary of that-- but here I am.
I think it was a couple dark or empty moments recently that had me looking around wondering where everyone was. I couldn't figure out why no one was reaching out to me in an hour of need. It didn't take long for me to put 2 and 2 together. I hadn't been reaching out either! I haven't been participating in much give OR take with you fellow mortals. Too risky.
I'm committed to taking a new direction with myself. I'm in a very peaceful place in my life-- no chaos, no adversity, minimal stress. I finally reached a point where I'm able to really give of myself and I am SO ready to start doing so. Is it scary?? ... Well, actually, no. I get to exhale for once. It's nice to stop playing defense on auto-pilot. I finally get how to change "walls" into reasonable and effective boundaries.
I'm finding so much balance these days-- balance between connecting with people and maintaining that boundary. Between thinking and doing, being perfect vs. having control. When to speak up and when to shut up. Being a better listener and being more understanding. I don't need to be that girl who keeps people away anymore; I'm tired of her. It's OK to say no, and more importantly, it's OK to say YES to life and its opportunities.
But boy, do old habits die slow.
6.05.2010
6.01.2010
Violation Station
Last night was a bit of an ironic one.
(And let me state for the record: I don't usually stay up this late like I used to, so don't jump all over me for that.)
It was around midnight when I was driving south-bound down Fleur, on my way to meet my friend Rachel at Hy-Vee. While still a couple blocks away, I was stopped at a red light next to another driver. An orange SUV turned left onto Fleur veeery slowly. Orange SUV turned into the other driver's lane but was still almost halfway in mine. At first I assumed this person was indecisive or not paying attention, so I gave a few seconds of grace, when OSUV swerved into MY lane. I HOOOONKED as loud as Warren (my car) would screech. When OSUV seemed to have no reaction whatsoever, I suspected a certain "influence" was at play. He continued to swerve in and out of lanes with no warning.
Along came my turn to go to Hy-Vee, but my instincts objected. If OSUV was, in fact, drunk off his/her arse, no way could I just let him/her go-- so on I drove. Suddenly he/she took off and sped down the street faster than a cat in a thunderstorm. And so did I. Sure, I felt a little guilty for speeding, but I figured if ever there was a reason this was it. When OSUV drove into a median, I was good and certain he/she was trashed out of his/her mind. Without another moment of hesitation, I was on the phone with 911 giving the scoop. I presented all the information I had, including the plate number. At that point it was out of my hands. I had to let go, turn back around and go meet up with Rachel.
Fast forward to a few hours later. I left Rachel's house around 3 am. When I was 6 blocks away from home, I was eager to arrive since the evening's earlier experience left me uncomfortable driving so late. OK, so I guess I was a little too eager. I got pulled over. 15 minutes and $74 later....
I will say the officer went VERY easy on me and didn't fine me NEARLY as hard as he could and should
have. I'm not saying I didn't deserve a ticket or it's unfair that I got pulled over, but I can't help but be a bit annoyed. On Fleur, I had gone 2 miles out of my way and undoubtedly risked my life to get OSUV off the road-- and the likelihood that he/she ever met a pair of handcuffs that night is slim.
Evidently karma stepped out for the holiday weekend. I don't know-- you tell me if you find all this to be poetic justice or cruel irony. I believe it to be more toward the latter.
Oh, and dad, if you're reading this-- sorry. 0:)
(And let me state for the record: I don't usually stay up this late like I used to, so don't jump all over me for that.)
It was around midnight when I was driving south-bound down Fleur, on my way to meet my friend Rachel at Hy-Vee. While still a couple blocks away, I was stopped at a red light next to another driver. An orange SUV turned left onto Fleur veeery slowly. Orange SUV turned into the other driver's lane but was still almost halfway in mine. At first I assumed this person was indecisive or not paying attention, so I gave a few seconds of grace, when OSUV swerved into MY lane. I HOOOONKED as loud as Warren (my car) would screech. When OSUV seemed to have no reaction whatsoever, I suspected a certain "influence" was at play. He continued to swerve in and out of lanes with no warning.
Along came my turn to go to Hy-Vee, but my instincts objected. If OSUV was, in fact, drunk off his/her arse, no way could I just let him/her go-- so on I drove. Suddenly he/she took off and sped down the street faster than a cat in a thunderstorm. And so did I. Sure, I felt a little guilty for speeding, but I figured if ever there was a reason this was it. When OSUV drove into a median, I was good and certain he/she was trashed out of his/her mind. Without another moment of hesitation, I was on the phone with 911 giving the scoop. I presented all the information I had, including the plate number. At that point it was out of my hands. I had to let go, turn back around and go meet up with Rachel.
Fast forward to a few hours later. I left Rachel's house around 3 am. When I was 6 blocks away from home, I was eager to arrive since the evening's earlier experience left me uncomfortable driving so late. OK, so I guess I was a little too eager. I got pulled over. 15 minutes and $74 later....
I will say the officer went VERY easy on me and didn't fine me NEARLY as hard as he could and should
have. I'm not saying I didn't deserve a ticket or it's unfair that I got pulled over, but I can't help but be a bit annoyed. On Fleur, I had gone 2 miles out of my way and undoubtedly risked my life to get OSUV off the road-- and the likelihood that he/she ever met a pair of handcuffs that night is slim.
Evidently karma stepped out for the holiday weekend. I don't know-- you tell me if you find all this to be poetic justice or cruel irony. I believe it to be more toward the latter.
Oh, and dad, if you're reading this-- sorry. 0:)
5.16.2010
Summer Clashion
I best just get the lecture out of the way. Summer is right around the corner. To some that means picnics, baseball, heatstroke... to me it means fashion train wrecks with no escape.
16-22 year old girls are by FAR most guilty. Let's face it; they use the first sign of heat as an excuse to dress like trash. Spaghetti straps and short-shorts do not, an ensemble, make. I just know it-- they've been bundled in their Snuggie all winter-- hemming that pair of glorified denim undies shorter and shorter, just waiting for the first 66ยบ day. Girl, puh-lease. Build a bridge and get over yo-self.
I do have a few suggestions up my quarter-length sleeve to keep it classy when the day sizzles and the nights steam. (Pictorials borrowed from J.Crew).
First and MOST importantly-- footwear. (I really want you to know that there's nothing I hate more than feet. They are the ugliest and most disgusting part of the human body; I can hardly bear to speak of them, so I get extra credit for this one. Hopefully in the end, this paragraph is an investment in humanity.) MEN: you look weird in open-toed shoes. Save them for the beach. End of discussion. Ladies: No one wants to see your feet either-- however, keeping you away from sandals is like trying to stop a downhill stampede. If you INSIST on wearing flip-flops, invest in a well-made feminine pair. Please don't do the $2 thing at Old Navy. Cheap flip-flops look-- cheap. Before you can blink, they look worn and dirty, and so do your feet. Yuuuck. Buy flip-flops that have a sheen to them, like a metallic.
No foam, no rubber. And for CRYIN' in the night-- if you are going to exercise your "rights" to open-toed footwear, keep your southern-most appendages (got sick of saying the word) looking presentable. None of this "I didn't exfoliate today", chipped polish and toe rings nonsense. Offensive.
Tops:
Home stretch of my rant. This one's easy: nice tanks and t-shirts with some embellishment. Plain layering tanks are for layering. Try to stay away from any verbiage on your clothing.
16-22 year old girls are by FAR most guilty. Let's face it; they use the first sign of heat as an excuse to dress like trash. Spaghetti straps and short-shorts do not, an ensemble, make. I just know it-- they've been bundled in their Snuggie all winter-- hemming that pair of glorified denim undies shorter and shorter, just waiting for the first 66ยบ day. Girl, puh-lease. Build a bridge and get over yo-self.
I do have a few suggestions up my quarter-length sleeve to keep it classy when the day sizzles and the nights steam. (Pictorials borrowed from J.Crew).
First and MOST importantly-- footwear. (I really want you to know that there's nothing I hate more than feet. They are the ugliest and most disgusting part of the human body; I can hardly bear to speak of them, so I get extra credit for this one. Hopefully in the end, this paragraph is an investment in humanity.) MEN: you look weird in open-toed shoes. Save them for the beach. End of discussion. Ladies: No one wants to see your feet either-- however, keeping you away from sandals is like trying to stop a downhill stampede. If you INSIST on wearing flip-flops, invest in a well-made feminine pair. Please don't do the $2 thing at Old Navy. Cheap flip-flops look-- cheap. Before you can blink, they look worn and dirty, and so do your feet. Yuuuck. Buy flip-flops that have a sheen to them, like a metallic.No foam, no rubber. And for CRYIN' in the night-- if you are going to exercise your "rights" to open-toed footwear, keep your southern-most appendages (got sick of saying the word) looking presentable. None of this "I didn't exfoliate today", chipped polish and toe rings nonsense. Offensive.
Bottoms:
I love shorts that hit right where the upper and mid thigh meet. To ME, that seems to be
the most flattering length. By the way, are cropped pants with ballet flats not adorable??
Tops:
Home stretch of my rant. This one's easy: nice tanks and t-shirts with some embellishment. Plain layering tanks are for layering. Try to stay away from any verbiage on your clothing.
Summer fashion can easily stay classy. Don't neglect accessorizing. The bare minimum looks boring and-- bare!! I leave you with these words, so relevant to summer fashion:
If you're not going to do it right, don't do it at all.*
*But please remain clothed.
If you're not going to do it right, don't do it at all.*
*But please remain clothed.
5.08.2010
Haphazard Thoughts
-Guys aren't usually much for kitchens. The only men who want to bake ARE baked.
-I'm surprised the suicide rate among cake decorators isn't higher.
-I used to think spring was overrated.
-Who eats cooked fruit?? Ok, maybe apples.
-I've been learning so much lately about how to connect with people.
-I love to form my own can-can line between 2 parallel mirrors. Pfff, try telling me you've never done it.
-Skinny jeans with flip flops look wrong. Flip flops in general are wrong. That's a whole 'nother blog (and it will be).
-I never liked brownies until I ate a frozen one.
-Once I saw a motorcyclist out with no helmet. But the greater offense: he paired a denim
jacket with jeans. No, no, no.
-I'm surprised the suicide rate among cake decorators isn't higher.
-I used to think spring was overrated.
-Who eats cooked fruit?? Ok, maybe apples.
-I've been learning so much lately about how to connect with people.
-I love to form my own can-can line between 2 parallel mirrors. Pfff, try telling me you've never done it.
-Skinny jeans with flip flops look wrong. Flip flops in general are wrong. That's a whole 'nother blog (and it will be).
-I never liked brownies until I ate a frozen one.
-Once I saw a motorcyclist out with no helmet. But the greater offense: he paired a denim
jacket with jeans. No, no, no.
5.01.2010
I Scream
I HAVE to go to San Fransisco-- I just have to.
There's this little ice cream place called "Humphry Slocombe" I'm dying to try. Everything is made from fresh, organic ingredients. And even though I'm "kinda vegan", I am readily willing to break that for this place. And the flavors-- oh buddy. Right up my alley. For those of you who are like me and aren't big into link clicking, I'll shorthand it for you. A few flavors I'm dying to try:
Balsamic Caramel, Green Tea-Black Sesame, Cinnamon Brittle, McEvoy Olive Oil, Honey Thyme, Peanut Butter Curry, Pepper-Mint, Red hot Banana, Salt and Pepper, Banana Pecan, and White chocolate lavender. There are plenty of sorbets I'm dying to spoon-attack also. Cantaloupe, Golden Beet Saffron, Pineapple 5-spice, Thai chili lime, and Carrot-mango.
So if any of you are planning an upcoming trip to SanFran, you have two choices. Take me
with you, or return with a very full cooler. Thanks in advance.
There's this little ice cream place called "Humphry Slocombe" I'm dying to try. Everything is made from fresh, organic ingredients. And even though I'm "kinda vegan", I am readily willing to break that for this place. And the flavors-- oh buddy. Right up my alley. For those of you who are like me and aren't big into link clicking, I'll shorthand it for you. A few flavors I'm dying to try:
Balsamic Caramel, Green Tea-Black Sesame, Cinnamon Brittle, McEvoy Olive Oil, Honey Thyme, Peanut Butter Curry, Pepper-Mint, Red hot Banana, Salt and Pepper, Banana Pecan, and White chocolate lavender. There are plenty of sorbets I'm dying to spoon-attack also. Cantaloupe, Golden Beet Saffron, Pineapple 5-spice, Thai chili lime, and Carrot-mango.
So if any of you are planning an upcoming trip to SanFran, you have two choices. Take me
with you, or return with a very full cooler. Thanks in advance.
4.15.2010
Casa____a
The other day, a middle aged gentleman came in for a cuppa coffee. I recall the house blend that day was Sierra Madre-- a lovely dark roast with a subtle nutty undertone.
"Sierra Madre--", said the customer, "that's the name of a Humphrey Bogart movie. I bet you didn't know that." I, in fact, did not know this.
He went on, "Can you name his most famous movie?"
I don't know what to tell you. I'm really not familiar with his work, or even movies from that era. I thought for a minute and admitted I did not know the answer, when he told me (it's Casablanca, by the way).
I have to tell you, this conversation irked me just a little. In my mind, he was tip-toeing just a bit too close to the border of 'condesending',just because I'm not a connoisseur of "the talkies". Different generations are variously savvied. Fact'a life. I really wanted to come back at him with:
"What does Flava Flav always wear around his neck? When does the last season of 'The Hills' start? Name ONE Usher song."
That's what I thought.
"Sierra Madre--", said the customer, "that's the name of a Humphrey Bogart movie. I bet you didn't know that." I, in fact, did not know this.
He went on, "Can you name his most famous movie?"
I don't know what to tell you. I'm really not familiar with his work, or even movies from that era. I thought for a minute and admitted I did not know the answer, when he told me (it's Casablanca, by the way).
I have to tell you, this conversation irked me just a little. In my mind, he was tip-toeing just a bit too close to the border of 'condesending',just because I'm not a connoisseur of "the talkies". Different generations are variously savvied. Fact'a life. I really wanted to come back at him with:
"What does Flava Flav always wear around his neck? When does the last season of 'The Hills' start? Name ONE Usher song."
That's what I thought.
4.07.2010
In the Throes of Compassion
This is my blog-- so I get to be honest, right? Cool.
For various reasons, I'm just not a compassionate person. I am a bad reactor and my bedside manner sucks. Sometimes it's a flaw; just as often it's an advantage. I won't bore you with those particulars.
I've lived alone for almost 6 months now. I think over the course of the past week, it's finally started sinking in that this is "all me". I'm responsible for everything that takes place or doesn't in my life. If 'X' runs my bank account dry, or 'Y' gets me in hot water, or 'Z'causes something unthinkable, I have only myself to blame. Reality is striking, and it's turning me back into the worrier I have been in the past.
Worry is a funny thing-- it can really have a ripple effect. Last week when I had a day off, allI could do was "what if" about myself and everyone I know. I'm trying to find the owner of a stray cat, and I'm feeling so uneasy about all that (again, I won't bore you with particulars). I remember a couple months ago when a coworker's mom was in the hospital with a dire emergency. I sat on my couch for hours and worried for this girl I barely knew. My friend, boss/coworker, and extended family member Kelly has cancer. I don't usually talk to people about it because it makes me worry and hurt for her. Just writing that sentence provokes an uneasiness I never want to experience again. At this moment, my friend Chad is at the hospital with his dad, feeling powerless and scared.
Here comes some more honesty: I'm so glad I wasn't blessed with the gift of compassion. Hurting for people... hurts. I've walked my share of painful valleys in my life. Why would I want to revisit those when I don't have to? Commiseration is incredibly foreign to me. I was never taught how to cope with it. (But was anyone?) So here's what I want to know: if I'm hurting for someone, is it 'heartless' of me to choose to "just stop thinking about it"? Do I become kin to Satan himself if I opt not to think about it in the first place?
I don't know how you tenderhearted types do it-- but more power to 'ya.
For various reasons, I'm just not a compassionate person. I am a bad reactor and my bedside manner sucks. Sometimes it's a flaw; just as often it's an advantage. I won't bore you with those particulars.
I've lived alone for almost 6 months now. I think over the course of the past week, it's finally started sinking in that this is "all me". I'm responsible for everything that takes place or doesn't in my life. If 'X' runs my bank account dry, or 'Y' gets me in hot water, or 'Z'causes something unthinkable, I have only myself to blame. Reality is striking, and it's turning me back into the worrier I have been in the past.
Worry is a funny thing-- it can really have a ripple effect. Last week when I had a day off, allI could do was "what if" about myself and everyone I know. I'm trying to find the owner of a stray cat, and I'm feeling so uneasy about all that (again, I won't bore you with particulars). I remember a couple months ago when a coworker's mom was in the hospital with a dire emergency. I sat on my couch for hours and worried for this girl I barely knew. My friend, boss/coworker, and extended family member Kelly has cancer. I don't usually talk to people about it because it makes me worry and hurt for her. Just writing that sentence provokes an uneasiness I never want to experience again. At this moment, my friend Chad is at the hospital with his dad, feeling powerless and scared.
Here comes some more honesty: I'm so glad I wasn't blessed with the gift of compassion. Hurting for people... hurts. I've walked my share of painful valleys in my life. Why would I want to revisit those when I don't have to? Commiseration is incredibly foreign to me. I was never taught how to cope with it. (But was anyone?) So here's what I want to know: if I'm hurting for someone, is it 'heartless' of me to choose to "just stop thinking about it"? Do I become kin to Satan himself if I opt not to think about it in the first place?
I don't know how you tenderhearted types do it-- but more power to 'ya.
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