Nonsense ramblings of a troubled heart

It's been awhile.
And I'm not really sure where to start but here it goes. The other day, I was watching an older t.v show (and by older, I mean late 90's, which really doesn't seem like that long ago but that's beside the point...) and the main character was at a therapist. She had just found out that her parents were splitting up. She was devastated and willing to take all of the blame for this life-changing decision her parents were making when the therapist looked at her and said, "Stop making this about you. It's their situation.  You have nothing to do with it. Be there for them...and let it go."
I immediately burst into tears because I am so guilty of doing this. I'm so concerned about being empathetic towards any situation presented to me that I immediately try to make the person who's confiding in me, feel better via offering a similar situation that I've been through up to them. It doesn't matter what it is. It could be anything from almost getting in a wreck that day to having a family disagreement. I always try to find an example in order to help the person in need understand that he/she is not alone.
But is this the right thing to do?
Is it the right way to go about trying to be there for someone?
I am constantly fretting over whether or not I am being selfish. I can't seen to differentiate between being there for someone or making it about me. This is a battle that I have fought with myself for as long as I can remember. I guess this is because I'm what one might call a "fixer". I want to help. I want to make things better. Because I believe with all my heart that everyone deserves happiness and the privilege to be happy. I don't know when to let go and stand back. I feel like the times I have stepped back, so to speak, I have only brought more disappointment and more unhappiness when all I was trying to do was give the person some space to wallow in their grief, knowing full well that I couldn't possibly understand what he/she was/is going through.
I don't want to be that person who constantly says "I know" or "I understand" or "God has a plan" or whatever. Because I don't know, I don't always fully understand and I'm not so sure at times if God does indeed, have a plan.
I'm just as clueless as the next guy. And I feel like a failure.
Why?
Because, it seems, I have spent my whole life searching for a person to be there for and quite possibly to save. I have been in countless relationships (both friends and lovers) that prove this fact and though I have finally found my soul mate, it is not me who has done the saving, but me who is slowly being saved. And in realizing this simple fact, I have found that the reason I put myself into those countless situations was/is because it left me being able to focus on someone else s problems, other than my own.
But now I'm at a loss. I don't know how to focus on me and my countless issues without feeling weak and selfish. And I don't know how to care for other people anymore because I spent so long focusing all of my energy on doing just that and leaving me out of it. I lost myself in the middle of it all and it would be so easy to do it all over again.
But this time, I don't want to.
Because this time, it's me that needs to be fixed....and in all honesty...
That scares the absolute shit out of me.
What if I'm beyond fixing?
Wow. I don't think I've ever admitted that to anyone...and that includes myself.
So there you have it world. I can scream it at the top of my lungs, but would it matter? I"M SCARED!!!!
"I'm suddenly afraid and I don't know what I'm afraid of..." And I don't have anywhere like a Tiffany's to go to Holly....so where does that leave me?
I'm at a crossroads trying to balance everyone else's life with my own...and I feel like I'm suffocating because I couldn't tell any one of you the reason as to why I feel this way.
I'm trapped in my own mind of swirling conversations and I want out.
I want out so badly, I could scream. Because what right do I have to feel this way when there are so many other people in this world who suffer more than me? What right do I have to complain or cry or yell or be angry? I've survived a lot, but in retrospect it's nothing because the same ghosts continue to haunt me and I don't know how to make it better.
I just want to feel better.
That's all I want for anybody but it seems too much to ask of anyone to make it so.
Am I being too selfish or too selfless?
I guess it's a fine line.
I just don't know which way to turn anymore. Going in circles is definitely not working...so what now?
What now?

Shopping Spree!

So I found out about this deal at a store, much like that of Bed, Bath and Beyond, or perhaps IKEA. You know the kind that have EVERYTHING! Well anyway, I forget the name of the store but the deal was that for one day, and one day only, customers could fill up an entire cart of merchandise and spend only one dollar.

ONE DOLLAR!

It was insane! And there was no limit on the amount of carts you had. (I had 3 so had to have my whole family come and help navigate.)

There was polka dot everything from dishes to canisters to pillows (of which I got at least one of everything:). And I found this really super cute "just married" picture frame that hangs on the wall and holds three pictures (The hanger is a layer of silver daisies...so perfect!)

I have to say that my favorite find was a pair of salt shakers in the shape of, you guessed it, COWS! (For any of you who know me well enough...that is what our kitchen is mainly accessorized with. I see any kitchen appliance, dish, ect in the shape of a  cow and I go absolutely ballistic!).

I also found a plethora of blankets and some cushions all mismatched colors for our dining room chairs (to help cover up the fact that our cats use said chairs for their own personal scratching posts).

Three carts full for only three dollars.

It. Was. Amazing.

And then I woke up....

Yep. It was only a dream.

I may never know true happiness again......

Billy Joel

I discovered the other day while at work that Billy Joel songs make me think of ex boyfriends.
Strange? Yes. And it's funny that I haven't made the connection until now. (Perhaps it's because our only source of music is the radio and the mindless songs that they play over and over and over again. Billy Joel may be a constant repeat, but I'll take him over Katy Perry any day.)
It's not that I don't like Billy Joel. He's no Jon Bon Jovi....but really, who is?
It's just that somehow, over the years, his songs make me think of certain people who have come and gone in my life that I really wish I could manage to never think of again.


For example, every time I hear the song Piano Man, I think of the boyfriend I had my senior year of high school.
Donald.
Now he was a rare and "special" breed of guy. He played the piano. In fact, he took lessons from his grandmother and I would often go with him to watch him practice. The annual concert was coming up and it was time for him to choose a piece to play. He chose Piano Man, at my request, because he knew I liked the song.
Now before you go on thinking that it was a sweet gesture, in the long run, it never really mattered. Plus, he had never even heard the song before he had met me, so he knew nothing about the lyrics or what it was about. (Of course this was coming from the same guy who liked Metallica's version of Turn the Page better than Bob Segar's.....Here's your sign.)
Anyway, I'm not going to get into the horrendous details of our relationship. It's over. It's done. And quite frankly, not worth repeating. I broke up with him before his big concert though and I remember him coming up to me telling me that I didn't deserve to watch his performance. I didn't really care but later found the video tape in my locker.
I watched it later that night.
Let's put it this way, it was not "sad and sweet" and he did not "know it complete".
The song has never been the same for me since.

The Longest Time used to be one of my favorite songs. And it was kinda sweet when a different ex boyfriend,  Austin, left me a voicemail singing the ENTIRE song.
However, it wasn't so sweet when he later accused me of being a slut and went on a rampage about how I was a bad influence and how he knew that God was disappointed in him for being involved with me.
Perhaps "God's" voice was the one he was actually "hearing in the hall".
Sadly, the song kinda makes me cringe now. All I can hear in it is the echo of Austin's voice and the way the words he later spoke cut me to the core. 
Damn you Billy Joel. Damn you!
   
My Life is such a true "screw you" classic. But unfortunately, it only reminds me of a time when I applied it to the people in my life that truly mattered. I was so lost and alone and the guy I was so lost and alone with at the time doesn't even deserve to have his name mentioned.
Now, when I hear this song, it only reminds me of how stupid I was for falling for the lies and it no longer remains on my playlist of loud, angry "f*** you" rock anthems.
The rolls  switched from my family to the very person I thought would "save me" from whatever it was I was running from.
It's sad really.
And such a waste.
"Go ahead with your own life. Leave me alone", could not be more appropriately applied than here.

OK. So I don't hate Billy Joel. It's not his fault that I had a bad run of idiots for boyfriends. (Come to think of it, there were only a few decent ones strewn in with the idiots....)
I still love Uptown Girl and We Didn't Start the Fire. And it's not only his music that brings back the memories of "love" gone awry. (Don't even get me started on The Rascall Flatts, Guns and Roses or Jimmy Buffett....another blog for another time perhaps.)
It just goes to show how truly important music is in our lives. There are still some songs I can't really listen to because it's just too painful to remember. But there are also songs, much like the Billy Joel ones, that remind me in a good way how far I've truly come in life and love....and how very blessed and happy I am now.
So now, when I hear these songs on the radio day in and day out, I kinda smile to myself. It was all a lifetime ago. But....
It's still rock and roll to me.

Family Ties

I'm not really sure what I'm going to accomplish in writing this post, however some things have been nagging at me for quite some time and I feel I need to get them out. So here it goes.

Family has always been something that is very important to me. It was only within the last few years that I realized how very important it all is. My immidiate family (aka my brother Pat and my parents) have of course had our ups and downs but all in all, we're strangely close. I think it freaks people out sometimes. My parents were the type that always kept the door open for our friends, which were always coming over and staying the night and hanging out. In fact, I can remember several times, coming home and finding a couple of friends of mine hanging out with my Dad in the living room.

I hear that this is not the norm.

One thing my brother and I didn't have regular access to was grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. In the early years, we saw all of these people 2, maybe 3 times a year. My parents would always load us up in the car and make the 6 hour + drive it took to get us there, only to spend a few days. It was a very rare occasion when they would load themselves up and make the trek our way. The older we got, the less we saw these people. I noticed in the rare incidents that I saw my cousins, that like me, they were growing up too. And I knew absolutely nothing about their lives.

I wanted to.

 I have these silly visions of being the cool, older cousin. Someone that any one of them could come to to talk with or vent to when they have no one else to turn to. I see patterns in the small tid bits of information I get via facebook or myspace, that I had to live and learn from when I was their age. I want to reach out, even SCREAM out and say, don't do it! Or I understand what you're going through. But I feel llike I have no right. They know just as little about me as I do about them.

What gives me the right?

Even when I do try to connect, it almost seems unwelcome. It seems as though in all the years that have gone by, it's too late to make that reconnection.

OK. So that's not completely true. I do have one cousin who I feel I have been able to reconnect to on some level and that's something I hope continues to grow. I treasure the fact that she seems just as willing to be a part of my life as I am to be a part of hers. And that goes for her parents too (my aunt and uncle.) They have all shown the same willingness to get together more.

But others. Not so much. I find myself getting frustrated at such comments as "when are you coming to see us again?" or "the phone works both ways." You're damn right it does. And I've been trying! Where are you? What gives you the right to try and make me feel guilty for not being in touch when I feel I've gone above and beyond in the past couple of years to make you a part of my life and try to be a part of yours?

Pat and I have already lost both sets of grandparents and one set of great grandparents. And the only things I ever knew about  them come from the stories that I hear on occasion. That's it. I really knew nothing about any of them and now it's too late.

I don't want it to be "too late" again. But has too much happened? Has too much time passed to try to make it work? Are we all just a little too stubborn to let go of the bitterness and awkwardness that has formed between us?

I'll admit, I still have quite a bit of angst towards a second cousin of mine who I absolutely adored while I was growing up. She didn't come to our wedding because she couldn't find a pet sitter for her dog....really? I mean I love animals and all but SERIOUSLY? How can you, only a year before, tell my boyfriend to "take care of me because I am one of your most favorite people in the world", and then turn around and not make it to one of the most important days in my life? How can you justify that? When I heard you tell him that, it made me feel so special.

Now they're just words. And they mean nothing.

Not to mention that your father sat there and moped throughout the ENTIRE reception. Every picture I see, he's scowling at the camera. Why did he even bother to come?

And that doesn't even begin to describe my anger with you guys since. It's not even worth mentioning. I have no idea where to go from here. I have no idea if it would even be worth it.

All I know is that when Daddy Bo died, both of you were there for me in ways no one else could be. So there's that.

But is it enough?

All I know is that I'm tired. I'm tired of trying with no result. I don't know what else to do. Is it a lost cause? Do any of you even feel the same way? I thought family was supposed to stick together. Should I just give up? Would you even care?  Growing up, I was so envious of my friends who had all of their family so close by. And even now, they stay in touch. I have one friend who travels regularly to see her grandmother. They're so close.

I never really had that.

I'm not really sure what the next step here is....I'm not really sure what else I can do. And sadly, I'm not sure if in the end, it would even be worth it to continue trying. Not until I can, at least, get a little something back. You're right, "it does work both ways". I can't be the only one trying. I need to see something on your end too.

The ball's in your court.

Now, all I can do is wait.

Being Mary

Andrew and I have "discovered" a new show on the Soap network called Being Erica. It takes place in Toronto, Canada and it's about a girl who undergoes a different type of therapy in which time travel is involved. I know. Sounds a little silly at first but think about it. Wouldn't you go back if you could? Not so much to change anything but to try to learn from it in hopes that you can move on or even change something about yourself.

Andrew asked me the other day, "What would you go back and tell your 20 year old self if you could give her advice?"

I jokingly replied, "Stay away from ass holes and bald guys." (Unfortunately both of these traits may or may not apply to the same person....)

But the truth is, I wouldn't have listened anyway. (I didn't listen to the little voices in my head that only got louder and louder the more I ignored them. It wasn't until they were screaming at me that I realized I needed to make a change.)

So anyway, the show begins with Erica having to make a list of her top 25 regrets. Then Dr. Tom sends her back in time to relive them in hopes of helping her let go.

I've always gone about life in a way that claims, I have no regrets. At least that's what I tell myself and other people when asked. The truth is, that's bull shit. OF COURSE I have regrets! I'm not going to sit here and bore you with a typed out list of my top 25, but I am going to ask you, what would you do/change if you could go back? Would you do/change anything?

What if time travel therapy were possible?

It's funny how we perceive things. Many of us go about life constantly asking ourselves, "what if?" What if I had stayed with that person? What if I had had that child? What if I had called my grandmother more? And so on and so on. We rarely get a second chance. And quite possibly, if we could go back, events might not seem quite the same as how we originally remembered or perceived  them. A person might not appear quite so wonderful and we might be reminded of why we chose the path we did in the first place. But why are we so quick to forget when things start to get tricky again?

It's a constant battle. Life. We grow so much, sometimes without even realizing it. And sometimes we regress, again, without even realizing. This is when we need to get back to the core of things. Go back to the basics. Remember who we are and who we are continuing to strive to be. It's OK to get a little lost. And I think it's normal to sometimes want to go back and re-do an event in our lives. Obviously not through time travel (though that would be pretty damn nifty.) But how can we be happy with our present, if we can't let go of our past?

We all have our regrets and perhaps things we wish could change about ourselves or our lives. The main thing to keep in mind is that no matter what, we have to be true to ourselves. So that's what I'm going to strive to do on a day to day basis.

Because I am Mary, and "being Mary" is who I want to be.

Instant Karma

I am a firm believer in Karma.

I think that what we do on an every day basis, good or bad, reflects on our accomplishments and failures.

However, I also believe in God, or a higher being if you will (whatever you want to call him/her.) And I believe this God has a sense of humor....sometimes a very sick sense of humor.

For instance, I feel like I'm a pretty good person. No. I'm not perfect but I do try to go about life in a manner of "do unto others as they would have done to you." But if you really sit down and think about this statement...I mean really really think, not everyone's perception of what they would do or not do is the same.

For example, when going into a restaurant or a store, I try to always be conscious of people coming in and out and therefore, I often hold the door open and offer them to go on ahead in or out of said building. This is not the case for everyone though. SOME people apparently would love to be run over while trying to leave the restaurant with their hands full and then promptly have someone allow the door to close while you are frantically trying to catch it with your foot, while balancing your food with both hands. Not to mention the fact that some people don't require the use of the words, please, thank you and excuse me.

So having this similar situation presented to me only today, it got me thinking. Did I do something recently that instituted such actions to be made? Am I being punished for something, not even realizing what I have done? Or is it something that goes way back....some random mistake that I'm still serving time for? (If you want to get really deep with this thought, I am suddenly reminded of one of my favorite Indigo Girl songs, Galileo, and the lyric that states "And you had to bring up reincarnation over a couple of beers the other night. And now I'm serving time for mistakes made by another in another lifetime." But the verdict is still not out on whether or not I believe in reincarnation. So that is perhaps another discussion for another time.)

Or is God just up there,looking down at me, having himself/herself a good laugh as I turn around only to walk, smack dab into a tree and one of its branches pokes me in the eye? Hey. It's the challenges in life that make us stronger, right?

But seriously. I do feel that if you perform a bad act, such as killing some one or robbing a bank, you do eventually get what's coming to you. But what if you don't do any of these things?Or what if you do, but you don't get caught?  It brings up that ever so popular question of "why do bad things happen to good people?" It's amazing how we can so quickly judge someone for doing something bad and then when something bad happens to them, it's not a surprise because we already have the answer as to why this bad thing, whatever it is, happened to them. When something bad happens to someone good, we are only left with the question of why?

The truth is, we really don't know why anything good or bad happens to any of us. It's all based on faith and what we believe or don't believe. But no matter how you look at it, you're looking at it blindly because no one truly knows ANY of this.

But our beliefs and our faith are what get most of us through life just a little less painfully. And this is why I go about life in a manner that makes me strive to be just a little bit better. A little more kind. A little more strong when someone I love is in pain. A little more positive when someone else can't quite see the light at the end of the tunnel. And I'm grateful to say that I have so many people in my life who are there to do the same for me.

So there you have it folks.You can call it whatever you see fit. I think I'm with the Beatles though because no matter what you do, good or bad, "instant karma is going to get you", whether you believe in it or not. We might not understand it and we might often find ourselves asking each other "why?" But I guess that's just the mystery of life....For whatever reason, I guess we just aren't supposed to know all of the answers. I think that's why most of us hold on to something opposed to nothing. 

Skinny Jeans

Conversation between Andrew and I this past Thursday before venturing out:

Me: "Which shoes look better with these jeans?" I am adorning an Ug boot (or rather, a much cheaper, non-leather version of an Ug boot that ensures the safety of our furry friends) on one foot  and on my other foot is a cute Birkenstock-type shoe (also non-leather).

Andrew looks at both feet for a second, closely observing each foot and taking in the entire outfit so as to make the right decision. (Yeah right. It took him all of 2 seconds but we were in a hurry and this was why I was asking his opinion anyway).

Andrew: "To be honest, I like the regular shoes with those jeans better than the boots."

Awesome. I love my new boots and yet have not a thing to wear with them. I secretly want to choose said boots instead of my boring "regular" shoes, but then I'll make him wonder why I asked his opinion in the first place. But I want to look cute because we never go out on a week night and I want to step it up a notch. But now I'm self conscious about the boots.

Me: Looking at the boots, "Perhaps some other time ladies."

So we went out and I didn't think anymore of it.

Then Saturday rolled along. We were going to go check out a new shopping center in town and I was getting ready. Same jeans, different shirt, so I tried both styles again in front of Andrew so as he could make the decision again. However, before giving him the chance to say anything, I run off to the bathroom to check my reflection and compare each style with my outfit. Standing on the toilet, so as to get the full effect, I sadly come to the conclusion that the shoes still look better than the boots. I come back to the couch where Andrew is still sitting, hopping on one foot as I pull the Ug off of my foot.

Me: "I think I just need to invest in a pair of skinny jeans."

Andrew: Looking a little annoyed because I always have some snide comment to add about my weight.  "Boosk. You're a size 1! Those are skinny jeans!!!!"

Did I mention how much I love this man? I almost didn't have the heart to explain to him the difference between the styles. But I'm stubborn.

"No. I mean skinny jeans are the ones that are really tight and tapered at the bottom so that you can tuck them into boots easier and they don't look all puffy."

He looked a little confused for a second but then came back to life with the comment: "I like boot-cut the best." Who knew that he did actually know the difference? Guess that's what I get for not giving him credit. But now that I think about it, I guess he was right on both counts.

Technically, a size 1 should be considered "skinny jeans". Perhaps, they should think of something else to call the other ones since they indeed, come in all sizes.

Thirty, Flirty and Thriving

In two months time, I will begin a brand new decade of my life. I will say goodbye to my twenties and hello to the unknown and uncharted territory of my thirties.
I'm not really sure how I feel about this. Most of me screams out "BRING. IT. ON!"
I mean, why not right? It's not as though I'm severely attached to my twenties. The first half was pretty much complete crap anyway, so why not start this new decade of my life with a big bang?
I do, however find myself having more difficulty with my identity. I am comfortable in my own skin and have grown to know and love the person I have become, but when it comes to expressing it, I'm not sure what I am still able to get away with.
I've never been a conformist so fashion and style have never necessarily been an issue for me. But I do find myself more and more often standing in front of clothes racks, holding something up and internally asking myself "am I still able to get away with this?" I still wear t-shirts with 80's movies logos on them (shirts, I might add, that kids who weren't even born in the 80's are wearing....Now they're "retro". I'm sorry. When exactly did that happen?) I still have to shop in the juniors section of department stores because I'm so small and any time I do try to venture into the "adult" section, I start to twitch. Let me just say, I've never been the cardigan and capri wearing girl so many of us are. Not that there is anything wrong with that. It's just not me. I have my own sense of style but I feel like I need to create a new look for the next 10 years of my life.
It's challenging and I'm not sure why it has become such a big deal. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I just recently bought my first couple of pairs of brand new blue jeans since I graduated from high school....thrift stores are so underrated and yes, that includes goodwill if you were wondering. And don't even get me started on the adventure I had, trying to figure out what bra size and style I am.
I try not to think about it.
I think one of my main issues is the fact that i don't tend to live my life out in order. For example, I didn't have my first drink until I was 23...no wait, maybe 26? My college years were mostly spent crammed into a small bedroom studying. And my social life has only just recently started to become a little more exciting. Maybe I'm just a late bloomer?
I remember when I was in fifth grade and my best friend at the time had just started wearing make-up and dressing more sophisticated. (Well, as "sophisticated" as any fifth grader can dress in the late eighties/early nineties. Let me also add that this was the same girl who dressed in one of my Mom's old dresses and high heels and danced with a toothbrush in front of my entire family....Enough said.) I was still in holey blue jeans and multi-colored hair ties. I remember how hurt I was when she told me I was too immature. I mean Hello! I was 10! Who isn't immature at that age?!  Needless to say, once we hit middle school, we didn't remain super close.
I didn't recognize boys as anything other than stupid until about eighth grade. But I was too shy to really admit it. When I finally did reveal to my best friend (different girl) that I did indeed "like-like" somebody...she told pretty much the entire class. And that was pretty much the end of that friendship.
By ninth grade, i was ready for my first true-life boyfriend, whereas several girls in my class (and some that were even younger) were already pregnant. I waited to lose my virginity until the year I turned 22...and that was an accident.
So anyway, I'm not sure if I should approach this new time in my life differently than what I've done in the past or if I should just keep trucking along as though it were any other birthday. Everyone keeps cracking jokes about the big 3-0. So what right? It's just another number, another year. I've always said, you're only as old as you think you are. I'm just not really sure how old I am mentally....
I'm watching friends, old and new, grow up so fast. In fact, I guess that's what I've always done. Everyone has always seemed to be in such a hurry to get to this age, to grow up, to be "thirty, flirty and thriving" and yet now it seems all anyone really wants to do is slow it down. Just a little.
I'm happy that I've gone about it a bit differently. And I'm happy where I am in life right now. I'm married to the most wonderful man in the world and most importantly, he gets me. He loves me for who I am and doesn't try to change me like so many people in my past have. My family is the best any girl could ask for and I feel very fortunate at how close we are. As far as work, well, I'll put it this way, it challenges me to strive for something more in the future.
So I'll say it again 30....
Bring. It. On.
I have a whole new set of goals and dreams to reach over the course of my next 10 years and I am determined to accomplish every single on of them.
Even if it's a little out of step from everyone else.

Lists

One could say I'm a total freak when it comes to making lists. I make lists for EVERYTHING! In fact, here is a list of some of the things I make lists for:

• Groceries
• Target
• Things we hope to own one day
• Chores around the house
• Errands to run
• Songs I would like to someday download onto my ipod
• Christmas Wants
• Amazon.com.....(thanks to the evil bastards who just keep recommending stuff)
• Blog ideas

Needless to say, the list goes on.....hardee har har.
And before you ask, the answer is yes. I am one of those people who will write down an item on a list, even if I've already finished doing said item, just so that i can mark it off.
What?
It gives me a sense of accomplishment. PLUS! It makes me feel all gooey and happy inside.
Hey. I never said I was normal....Oh! that's an idea. I could make a list of things that make me not so normal. For example:

• When I eat bite sized crackers or small candy, I have to have an even number (1 piece for each side of my mouth), otherwise I just feel unbalanced.
• Before I leave the house every morning, I have to find all six pets and kiss them goodbye. And if I walk  by one I've already said goodbye to and pet him/her again, I have to start all over so as not to make anyone jealous.
• When watching a t.v show on DVD, I often count the minutes in my head to gauge how much longer I have before the show is over. Not because I'm bored....but because my brain has to be doing something.
• Speaking of t.v, I'm obsessed over the percentage of stuff we have taped on the DVR. I like to keep it low. Heaven forbid it go above 40....at this point, my head starts to spin.
• I always have a fear that I have left something on inside the house that will make it catch fire, trap the pets inside and burn everything to the ground. I can't tell you how many times I have been late somewhere because I had to turn around to make sure I hadn't left the stove on...when I hadn't even turned in on at all that day.
• One would think I would put everything I need before I leave to go somewhere in the same place. But alas, I don't. And I am constantly running around the house, trying to get everything together before I leave. Andrew gets a kick out of this one because I always leave before him and he always gets out of bed to wave goodbye. He's learned that he has a few minutes to spare when I rush upstairs to tell him I'm leaving NOW and yet, I'm still not ready once he makes it downstairs to kiss me goodbye. But I like to tell myself that this is one of the many reasons why he loves me.
• I like Adam Lambert. There. I said it. Happy?

I also make lists of lists I need to make. See above the first list I wrote out, if you don't believe me.
Lists are just an every day part of my life. I can't imagine what I would be like if I didn't make them. It would drive me absolutely batty. I wouldn't know what to do next. Even if I don't get everything done on a list, it still comforts me that it's there, awaiting the blessed day that it will get scratched out once it's all finished.
It's the small things in life that make me happy, and more importantly...... keep me sane.
Though the thought comes to mind, that I am anything but, after re-reading this blog.
Oh well....
I. LOVE. LISTS!

Going Through the Motions

I used to want to save the world.
I can remember being 10 years old and writing poems about the troops over in Desert Storm. I've always had a "hippie heart" so to speak and I've always wanted everyone to be at peace. Somewhere or some time along my way, I seem to have lost that connection. That will to do unto others as you wish them to do unto you, or however the saying goes. But what happened?
It's not as though I don't still treat people with the respect I would want to be treated with. I still say "please" and "thank you"...and I am known to pick up random trash on the street or in the park when I'm walking the dog. But that's as far as I let it go these days. I don't make any extra effort to lend a helping hand.
I remember one time in elementary school, one of my classmates' house burned down. I was so very sad for her and I wanted to do something to make it all better. As a class, we collectively got her new clothes and shoes....and I remember asking my Mom if it would be OK if we also got her a doll. I couldn't imagine having lost all of my prized possessions. I have always been a collector of sorts, not so much for the "having" of things, but the memory behind them. For instance, I still have most of my stuffed animals that I've collected over the years as I continued to grow older. And if you were to ask me when and where I got any one of them, I could tell you. This little girl had just lost all of that. I wanted to fix it.
It's safe to say that I have always been a "fixer". There was another time when my family and I were on vacation and we all got into an enormous fight. It was horrible and all I wanted was the yelling to stop. So I came up with the idea of "going back to bed" and pretending that we were all waking up and starting a brand new day. It worked for a little while, but if I remember correctly, there was still some fighting that followed. But I didn't have the mentality then that it takes to need to talk things out to make it better. And even then...sometimes that doesn't even work.
All of my past relationships (with the exception of one or two...including my wonderful husband:) have been guys who I thought I could help. I wanted so badly to "fix" them that I never even realized (until much much later) that if a person doesn't want to change...there is nothing anyone else can do about it...no matter how much you love him. I would get so caught up in their pain, that I didn't even recognize the pain that it was causing me...and the hole that was being burned into my own heart. It's healing now...but I'm not sure if it will ever completely go away.
And that's OK. I learned from these lessons...even if I made the same mistake more than once. My whole life, I heard how you can't expect to make the same mistakes over and over again, expecting a different result. And to any outsider...or in some cases, even an insider....it would have appeared that that was exactly what I was doing. But I never looked at it that way...I just continued to hope to get a different result because I wanted to succeed. I don't take failure very lightly and I'm not one to just give up. But I finally had to choose my battles and except the fact that certain ones, I would never win.
But maybe I wasn't supposed to?
I mean I wouldn't be where I am now without the zig-zagged path I took. And I'm proud of how much I have accomplished. But now I find myself getting back to basics and wanting to gain back what I managed to lose during the time I let myself get lost in everyone else. I'm tired of feeling jaded and held back by my past experiences. I am still capable of making a difference, some kind of mark on this World...no matter how messed up it seems to be.
I often hear myself complaining about how there is never enough time, never enough money, never enough this or that. But all we have in this life is TIME. And we have to make the best out of it. I need to wake up. Stop being a zombie going through the motions and dig down deep into the heart of it....whatever "it" is.
I still do want to save the world. And this scares me. I get so caught up and involved in the things I believe in and if I fail (again)....then what?
I'm only one person. But I still have a voice. A voice, that even if only one person listens to, will scream as loud as she can just to help that one person. That would be something.
It may not be the whole world....but I guess it's a start.

Untold Stories

I just finished reading one of the most endearing novels I have EVER read. Twenties Girl by Sophie Kinsella is a tale about a somewhat lost 20-something old girl named Lara Lington who gets enlightened by none other than the ghost of her recently deceased great aunt Sadie. Sadie appears as her 23 year old self and she is in search of a necklace she remembers wearing when she was the happiest in her life.
So the quest begins  for Lara to find said necklace so that she can get rid of this obnoxious great aunt, who enjoys meddling in her life by screaming loudly at random people, making them do crazy things without them knowing why. The longer it takes, the more Lara finds out about Sadie and all of the untold stories that her family never knew. They become friends.
This is only a brief synopsis and I'm really not doing it any justice, but one scene in the story particularly reached out to me.  It's when Lara takes a box of old Fred Astaire and Ginger Roger's movies to the nursing home in which Sadie passed away in. Her hopes in doing this are to possibly bring a smile to some of the faces who perhaps remember the first time they went to see these movies. As the nurse pops the tape in, Lara stands back and watches the faces of these people transform. Recognition hits them and a smile spreads across the face of an older man, sitting in a wheel chair in the corner. As Lara continues to watch, it's almost like they all transform into their 20 year old selves and it hits her. They are in old bodies, but they relive the happiest times of their lives day in and day out...and no one even knows or notices. They all have their own "Sadie" stories to tell.
This got me thinking, we ALL have our "Sadie stories". There is so much about my families' lives that I don't know about. Friends too. I look back and can see my great grandmother cooking us her famous macaroni and cheese while my great granddaddy sits in his ratty chair, drinking coffee out of a saucer plate. I remember the old picture of his and his brother in the army hanging on the opposite wall.  And I can see so clearly the old glass coca cola bottles hanging out on the back porch in numbers. But this is all I knew. They were once my age. They lived through some of the most amazing history in the world. We read it in our history books in school, about the Great depression and World War 1 and all the wars that followed...but they LIVED it. They are a part of that history and so much more.
The same goes for my grandparents. Their lives before I came along are such a mystery to me. I remember hearing bits and pieces while growing up, but there is so much more I want to know. We take advantage of what we have when we still have it and the chance to learn more about it. But once these people are gone, their stories go with them. This perhaps explains my somewhat morbid obsession with cemeteries. There is so much history that never makes the fine print of the books we read in school.
So here is my challenge. I want to hear your story. Something or someone that you remember that has helped make you who you are. And if you don't tell it to me...please, tell it to someone. We only have so much time on this Earth and who knows where we go afterwords. The important thing is to leave something behind for those who come after you. Don't be an untold story. As miniature as you might feel in the grand making of history, you're a part of it regardless. If you want to leave your mark.....don't be an untold story.

Death in the Eyes of Lorelai

This morning I woke up like I would on any typical Thursday morning. I tried to sleep in because it's my day off and, as always, was unable to. So, I got up, threw my flip flops on and took Leira for her morning walk.

Once outside, she did her typical sniff-sniff here, sniff-sniff there until she found the exact spot she wanted to urinate....decided that that spot wasn't quite good enough and then in mid squat meandered on up the sidewalk a little further. About 10 minutes (and a few false alarms) later, we were back inside and she was begging for breakfast.

I fed her and had to fight to distract the rest of the menagerie with bribes of kitty treats so that she could eat her meal in a somewhat peaceful state. All was well. All was normal. I saw Lorelai sitting in her usual patch of sun staring at what I thought was nothing. (Because it usually is...she likes to stare at things that aren't really there. Maybe a ghost?). I went over to pet her and she chirped and squinted her eyes in a happy state like she always does. That's when I saw it.

It. Was. Huge.

It. Was. Gross.

And I think.... is that a baby one beside it?.........

Me:"BOOOOOOOSKI!!!!!!!"

Andrew (in a half awakened state): "Mumble mumble mumble, what?"

Me: "There is a HUGE ass bug downstairs and it's staring at me while Lorelai is staring at it....and I think there is another one beside it and oh God! It's staring at me too and.....can you please come get it?!?!!!!.......NOW!"

I don't really get an answer, I just hear Andrew upstairs putting his pants on...(because why dispose of a nasty bug in your underwear right?) He stumbles downstairs to examine the bug. The three of us stare on.

Me. Andrew. And Lorelai.

Andrew is much braver than I am and is able to get a little closer. The bug is not moving but we think it's still alive.

Me: "What about her baby?"

Andrew: As he takes a closer look...."Um, I don't think that's her baby..."

Me: Freaking out..."Then what the hell is that?"

Then it clicks.

I look at Andrew. He looks back at me. Silently we understand. We both look at Lorelai sitting there all sweet and innocent....... guarding her prey.

She looks at us and I swear she was smiling.

It wasn't a baby bug....

It was the bugs head.

THE. BUG'S. HEAD!!!!!

Yep. My sweet little dilute calico kitty ripped the head off of said bug. Spit it out. And then sat there watching it die.....

I have no words.....

Vampires Vs. DMV...What are you more afraid of?

So my wonderful sister-in-law  Jenn and I FINALLY went to go see Eclipse last week. We had to wait longer than we initially wanted to because of other things going on and not being able to find the time to actually get together and go see it. But alas, the day finally came last Thursday when I got a text that went something like this: (Let me just make the point here that I am so very upset with myself for erasing all of the text messages that created the conversation that pursued once this first text was made. Therefore, some of this is a bit ad-lib, but you'll get the point:).

Jenn: "You, Me Eclipse? Tonight at 7? Come early. We'll go to Target and get candy:)."

Me: "Oooooh. Candy and Popcorn for dinner?!?"

 Jenn: "That was my thought exactly."

Me: "I. Am. So. There."

Meanwhile, I go on about my day because I have several errands to run considering that, though being married finally is a super awesome experience, the process of changing one's name....is not.

First stop: the DMV.

Once there, I see that there is quite a large line ahead of me, with only one employee giving out numbers and only 2 other employees calling customers one at a time to do their business. (Really? I mean, with so many people being out of work, you would still think that the DMV would be able to round up some more employees.....I'm just saying.)

So anyway. I had only been standing there for about 5 minutes and the line had moved about a quarter of an inch within that time (Hey! I like to be positive.), when this punk-ass kid walks in, stands in line for a minimum of two seconds and exclaims: "This sucks."

He. Is. A .Genius.

And he talks to himself and sighs very loudly in my ear, which makes me want to turn around and punch him in the face. But I'm a newly, happily married woman and I want to make a point that it is possible for a single individual to wait in line at the DMV for 2 hours with a smile on her face.

So, yes. I became that person that everyone hates. You know, the one that always sees the light at the end of the tunnel, happiness and rainbows and blah blah blah. That was me on that day because I refused to let it get me down. (PLUS! I was going to see Eclipse that night with my best friend:). Extra bonus!

Speaking of which, about an hour had passed at the DMV and I was now sitting in one of those plastic chairs watching the screen in front of me, learning lots of facts about driving that I had, ahem, perhaps forgotten? I would educate you on such facts at this time, but I can't remember what they were.... However, I do remember seeing the story on  Lindsy Lohan  having to do jail time for skipping out on parole. (What has happened to the youth of America?) And also they showed a picture of Scarlett Johanson pumping gas....interesting stuff. Let me tell you.

I check my phone to see if I have any messages and I have three texts:

Jenn: "I am so excited!"

Jenn:"Yea vampires and shirtless werewolves."

Andrew: Vampires and Werewolves and ghosts...oh my."

I ignore Andrew's text and the fact that he is so clueless that duh! There ARE no ghosts in the Twilight saga. (He has so much to learn....). And promptly text Jenn back the ever-so grown-up expression:

Me: "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"

Jenn: "I KNOW! I can't wait!!!"

Me:"Yea. Yummy werewolves with no shirts. Score!"

Jenn:" Mmmmm no shirts."

Jenn: "I mean, we will wear shirts:)."

Me: "We don't have to. Hee  Hee."

Let me just interject here to explain above lesbian-type comment. It's an on-going joke that the whole reason Jenn married my brother Pat was to get close to me and because gay marriage isn't yet legal in North Carolina. It's just a joke though. Really. We aren't lesbians. Promise. So back to shirtless werewolves and sulky vampires that shimmer in the sun.

They. Are. HOT!

So the rest of my experience at the DMV wasn't very exciting. The sulky teenager (who was SO NOT hot like a sulky vampire) somehow ended up sitting two seats away from me and I would occasionally hear such comments as :"Come on! and Arrggggggg and I'm a pansy-ass white boy who can't wait patiently in line even though it's my fault I'm here because I did [insert something illegal here].....OK. Maybe not the last one but you get my point right?

Once it was finally my turn, I practically skipped to the lady and handed here my information. And.....

Nothing.

She just stared past me and started yelling across the office to the one other employee to turn her music down. Then she just stared, still not at me, but kind of above and beside me.

I continued to sit there and smile like an idiot until she finally asked me what it was I needed.

"Me: "I'm changing my name because I just got married!" (Big smile and BOUNCE!)

She said nothing, Just took my paperwork, typed in some information in the computer. When she did speak it was only to ask me for 10 bucks. I wrote her a check, still smiling and she handed me my little ticket with my new signature on it to give to the picture-taking guy. (Who, by the way,  was also the guy handing out tickets to people waiting in line. Really DMV? Get your act together!) I went and sat down in another uncomfortable plastic chair, still smiling and bouncing my crossed leg back and forth, waiting for my new driver's license picture to be taken.

Then I heard something behind me.

"Arggggggggg."

Really? Could I not at least get a break from the stupid, patient-challenged teenager?

It was OK though, My name was next and even though it took 20 more minutes to be called, when I heard my new last name being spoken by someone other than family and friends, I beamed!

I went up and sat in, yet another plastic chair, smiling stupidly for what seemed like 5 minutes, while (I think?) the guy took my picture. (The reason I say "I think" is because he never actually told me when he was going to take it....)

I stood beside him waiting to see my new license with my new picture with my new name and he hands me a piece of paper with only a copy of my new signature. I looked at him blankly as he explained how my new license would come in the mail between 5-7 business days. It was at this point I had to decide whether or not I was going to continue smiling, because inside I was full of rage.

Inside Me: "You mean to tell me that I have stood here in line for 2 freaking hours beside a smelly, spoiled teenager who grumbled the whole time, reading stupid facts about driving and movie stars that I DON"T CARE about, and not even spoken to by the creepy lady at the desk over there that won't even look at me and I don't even get my license today?!?!?!!!!"

(To calm myself down, I had to "force" myself to think of hot vampires and barely of age werewolves.)

No. I didn't make a scene. But my insides were screaming. (See above.) I just took my new license (aka...little white slip of paper) and continued to practically skip out of the DMV.

So yes. I might not have that little piece of plastic with my new name and my new picture on it yet, but I can tell you one thing.....

I bet I was smiling.

Sick Days

We all have them and we all feel a little bit guilty when we take them

I mean, think about it. We're calling into our place of work to let our employer know that we are taking the day off because we're not feeling well. And then we get to sit on the couch and do at least 3 out of 4 of the things I personally most LOVE to do. (i.e. Watch T.V. , read a good book, eat...if you aren't having the icky stomach poos and most importantly sleep).

I find it a little comical in some ways. Obviously, there are days when you wake up in the morning knowing full well that you aren't going to make it through the rest of the day without either passing out, coughing a lung up, or vomiting all over your co-workers, ect ect.

So why do we (and by "we" I mean the majority of us) make the actual "call in" as dramatic as we possibly can? Think about it. And be honest, if you have a cold, don't you manage a little cough or a sniffle on the phone? Or even make your voice sound all croak-y as if you are trying to sale to the person on the other end of the line that yes, you are indeed sick and not coming into work today.

Then there is the issue if you have to actually GO somewhere during said sick day because you need orange juice or cough syrup or Kleenex. Then you find yourself walking around the store in full alert by the off-chance that someone you work with might see you out and about when you're supposed to be at home in bed.

Maybe it's human nature to feel a little guilty when you take a day off to re-group. We offer ourselves excuses such as, well if I stay home today, it would be better if I went to work and got worse and then had to stay out multiple days. It's like when you go shopping and there's a HUGE sale and even though you weren't planning on buying anything, you come home with bags upon bags of stuff!

It's amazing how the human mind works. How we can convince ourselves that we feel or don't feel a certain way. Don't get me wrong. We all really do have our sick days. But admit it, sometimes they're "sick days" in that you just want to stay home and be able to grunge out and watch t.v, read a good book, eat whatever you want, and catch up on some much needed sleep.

I guess sometimes it's just easy to take advantage...or you feel like you're taking advantage when all you're really doing is trying to take care of yourself.

Or is that just another excuse?

C.O.R.P.O.R.A.T.E

I would be a crappy business woman.

But before I go any further, when I look at the above title in all caps, it reminds me of the goose from Charlotte's Webb. You know the one; the snobby one that says "Double T, Double E, Double R, Double I, Double F, Double I, Double C...."

Hee. Hee. A talking goose.

But anyways. I have worked for a few corporations in my life and have abruptly decided. It. Is. Not. For. Me. I mean really? What is the point of up-selling? Don't most people go into a store or a business already knowing what they want and how much they are planning to spend? When I am asked something along the lines of "Do you want fries with that?" I want to look at the person, slap myself on the forehead and say, "Gee! Why didn't I think of that while I was ordering?" I mean come on!

The first job I ever had was at a well-known amusement park that shall remain nameless to protect the innocent. But my boss was all about Upsale! UPSale! UPSALE! The part of the park I worked in was actually a little barbeque hut. (And yes, you read me right....B.A.R.B.E.Q.U.E. .....as in dead pig...which is ironic due to the Charlotte's Web reference I made above...oh yeah. AND I'm a vegetarian....but that's beside the point.) I remember sitting in a meeting and sort-of listening to how we needed to sale more desserts, yada, yada, yada. And I couldn't help thinking to myself, "Really? You want me to ask families to spend ten bucks on a piece of crappy key lime pie just so you can get a bigger bonus at the end of the year? You pay me $5.75 and take more than half of it out of my paycheck bi-weekly to help pay rent on a 3 bedroom apartment that I live in with 5 other girls. Fuck you and your dessert. Not to mention the fact that a lot of these people save up for years to come to said amusement park and spend hundreds of dollars on tickets alone. An average meal for a 4 person household is somewhere between 20-30 bucks.....for a lousy hamburger and fries. That's one word INSANE! NO! I won't upsale your crappy dessert! If someone orders a piece of pie, that's what they get. If not. Oh well."

This job experience, though many good things came out of it, should have been my first clue that business woman? I. Am. Not.

Ironically, I later worked at Walmart...... Call me a hypocrite if you want. But when you have been out of a job for several weeks in a row, you take what you can get.

And this is what I got in short. Crappy co-workers.Crappy customers returning crappy merchandise. And crappy pay. Need. I. Say. More?

Currently, as most of you know, I am working in a veterinary office. Unfortunately, it is not privately owned. It's, yep! You guessed it, owned by a corporation who owns several hospitals all over the US. I have been working there now for 4 years and lately, I am starting to see all of these changes that seem to be revolved around making more money. Don't get me wrong, I understand that a business can't be a business without making money...but there is a line. And I feel like lately, we as employees are being asked to cross it.

I can't do that.

I won't do that.

I first and foremost do what I do because I want to make a difference somehow. I want to help animals and their people. And I don't feel like the way to do that is via raising prices and charging more for products our clients can get cheaper somewhere else. (And before you ask, yes. I do tell said clients where to get said products cheaper. Especially if they are already shelling out hundreds of dollars for their pet. In my world. It's the decent thing to do. ) I want to make my mark on this world before my time here is over....and I'm tired of stupid corporations and their mad money-making skills getting in the way of that.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not all "Down with the government! Don't work for the man!" But there is a huge part of me that rather work for the underdog. I have worked for both independents and corporations and I have to say, I have much more respect for the independents. If I ever caught someone stealing at the little store I used to work at, I took it much more seriously and personally than if I saw it at Walmart...only because these people were my friends and they have worked so hard to accomplish the American Dream. I realize that all corporations start from a small business. But much like government can get, it's so easily corrupted. Where is the line drawn? How do we hold up to the humanity that most of us start out with? How do we keep from getting greedy? And more so, how do we avoid getting caught up in it all?

I don't want to be a part of it all. Even Wilbur (Yes. The pig from Charlotte's Web who need not know that I worked at a barbecue restaurant.) got tired of his fame and fortune. His biggest lesson learned was that at the end of the day, it's the small things in life that matter. Which makes me wonder? If spiders and barn yard animals get it.....

Why can't we?

Lorelai's Top 10 on TV

10) Barack Obama...she loves that man.

9) Tales of Avonlea. When we were living in Pat and Jenn's spare bedroom, I would watch this show before going to sleep and she would sit at the end of my bed, little white paws curled up underneath her, and watch the screen religiously.

8) Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. ("There's something afoot at the Circle K")

7) Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey. (What? She has an eclectic taste for classic movies. And Bill and Ted is definitely a classic for my generation.)

6) Where the Heart Is. During the last scene, right before they finally kiss, Lorelai came out of no where, sat directly in front of the TV screen, and stretched her paw up to touch the couple's faces. Classic. Movie watching. Moment.

5) The Closer. Actually. This is just her theme song. She grooves to the beat every time she hears it, strutting across the floor like she's Michael Jackson. I kid you not.

4) The DVD my friend Traci gave her that has the choice of chirping birds, butterflies or dragonflies floating across the screen. (She thinks they're real and I haven't the heart to tell her the truth...)

3) The mouse arrow on the computer screen, therefore making it nearly impossible for me to do anything on the computer.

2) Gilmore Girls. Need you ask why? They are her namesake.

1) The "Lorelai Show". Nope. Not Gilmore Girls again. This is the "show" of Lorelai staring lovingly at her own reflection when the TV is indeed off. Her favorite show for sure.

Why the World Doesn't Care When It's Your Birthday...

1) The people you work with forget that it's your birthday until later on in the day when they claim to "make it up to you". Forget it. You screwed up. The damage is done.

2) One of your favorite epileptic patients comes in, having bloody diarrhea and the Dr. in charge thinks that she's in liver failure and not looking for a positive outcome.

3) The first thing your manager says to you is "did you change the x-ray chemicals?", reminding you of a few days ago when you got pulled into the office to be told of all the things you have been doing wrong...and making you bite your tongue when all you really want to say is, "Did you even look at the big sheet on the x-ray door that has my initials on it for the past week, therefore declaring that , yes! I checked the x-ray chemicals! Get off my back!"

4)The person you're closing with (the only other person closing that day) calls out because she has a headache...really? Take some tylonol for crying out loud!

5) Your supervisor goes home early, leaving only you and one other person to cover for the rest of the day. Happy. F***ing. Birthday. To. Me.

6) A big, mean dog still manages to beat you up and drag you across the floor....on sedatives! (How is that even possible?)

7) The dog having surgery the next day decides to bust his lip open on the cage door at 5:59 when you are scheduled to leave at 6:00, therefore making the cage look like he massacred a small animal.

8) Getting stopped by every stop-light on the way home, when all you want to do is snuggle with your fiance' and forget about everything that has just happened in your day. Your birthday.

Dramatic? Yes. But it's my party, and I'll cry if I want to.

Someone always has had a day that was worse...

I was thinking about my week on my way home from work last night. My job has not been going well for the past month or so and each little thing just keeps building up more and more, making me feel like I'm about to explode.
Yesterday was bad because everyone around me seemed to be feeling the exact same way, so the lack of positive energy was making it worse. I felt like I couldn't breathe...you know, trapped and you can't get out. Being a vet tech is what I've been focusing on for the past 6 years. I'm leaning closer and closer to the idea of "I don't want to do this with the rest of my life."
I'm tired of not being recognized for the things I do accomplish . The only recognition is when I screw something up (which just seems to be a lot lately.) I'm a hard and dedicated worker and that's not me being conceited...it's just the truth. I know I have the personality that I don't gossip or complain or talk about people behind their backs...therefore everyone comes to me and I have to hear about it anyway (there's only one person there who I don't mind when she talks to me about things going on...and you know who you are:). But everyone else? I DON"T CARE!!!!! Keep it to yourself! Leave the drama at home, you're only making it worse for everyone, including yourselves so SHUT-UP already!
All this being said, I was wallowing about everything all at once when I thought about something. Apparently, there were 2 pretty major wrecks that happened yesterday afternoon on the road that I work on. One was a head on collision and the other one involved 2 pedestrians (14 year old girls) that got hit by a van...we know that one of the girls didn't make it. And here I was, pitying myself and my minuscule issues when someone else had just lost a daughter....somehow it doesn't come close to measuring up with my worries. It made me realize that no matter how hard a day I claim to have...someone else had it worse.
I'm a very lucky human being. I have the best family anyone could ask for. My parents have stood by me through thick and thin...even when they thought I was crazy. But I always had the feeling that they knew I would be OK. My brother is not only my brother, but one of my best friends and though we've had our issues in the past, I've always known he is there for me no matter what. My sister-in law is the sister I never had and I am so grateful to have her in my life. The man I'm about to marry (7 weeks from today!:) is my soul mate, best friend, shoulder to cry on, you name it...that's what he is. He's that "something missing" over all of those years of failed relationships. He's "it" whatever that means and I've never been happier. And not only am I marrying the most loving, wonderful, funny, handsome, sweetest guy in the whole wide world, I'm inheriting a wonderful family as well.....
So really. What do I have to complain about?
I'm still young. I still have goals and dreams. And my plan is to accomplish or at least try to accomplish all of them. I think the feeling I've been feeling for so long is that I have given up in the whole career department....and that is not what I do. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I'm not a quitter. So I'm not going to quit. I'm going to keep my head up high and focus on the good things in my life...because even if there isn't positive energy flowing around me where I spend the majority of my time (work), I know I'm going to come home to it and be around it where it matters the most. And knowing that is what has gotten me this far.
So bring it on life!
I'm ready for the next challenge you have in store for me.
You haven't lost me quite yet.

Constants

I have a handful.
I'm not very good at staying stagnant. I like change and to move things around, whether it be in furniture or entire cities or states. I don't like feeling like I'm in a cage or as though I'm trapped. I've been like this since I was a little girl. My parents would often wake up and find that my bedroom door was closed and hear me bumping and moving things around in my room. They always knew to give me my space during such times so that i could work out my frustration on each piece of furniture finding a new "home" within my small bedroom.
In past relationships, I found myself getting antsy and dis-interested and no matter how much or how often I would try to mix things up a bit, I was never fully happy.
Because in reality, you shouldn't have to try so hard on the wrong things.
For example, liking someone.
In meeting Andrew, I learned very quickly that I not only love him, but I like him. Weird right? I mean, who knew that this was the key to what had been missing in all of those other failed relationships? It was so easy for me to fall in love and yet half the time (let's be honest...most of the time) I despised having to spend quality time with any one of those guys. They drove me crazy. Absolutely batty I tell you.
So there I was, jumping from one relationship to another in hopes of finding that something to feel the void/hole that had formed in my heart. I found myself often in search of a song on the radio that would make me cry in order to get out all of the emotion I had been holding back from everyone...including myself.
Because who cries if they're happy right?
Or rather, who seeks to cry when she feels she has no tears left?
That would be me, once upon a time.
Don't get me wrong, they weren't all assholes. I mean, some of them , their worst "crime" was only being lazy or loving me too much or trying too hard or not enough. (Then again, some were assholes...it just took me awhile to realize it...ahem 3 years.....sad? Yes. I know.)
Suddenly, it's as if this baggage has been lifted off of my shoulders. I would be lying if I said I felt no pain left from the other live(s) I have lived, but I at least feel at peace with it all now.
I have accepted that i can't change a person for the better, even though, I never realized until much later that this was what I had been trying to do. It doesn't matter how much I saw the fact that these people had something more in them than what they were offering. What mattered is that they didn't see this....and that's why we failed. You can love someone so unconditionally and yet, if he doesn't love himself, you find yourself in it alone.
And who wants that?
Now i find myself hearing those same songs that I once seeked out to hear when in need of an emotional outburst and you know what?
Nothing.
I have cried my tears for those songs and have none left to dedicate to them. The only thing I feel when hearing them now is a sadness for anyone who feels the way I once did.
Lost and alone with no where to go.
So back to my constants; the people in my life who have always mattered the most. This is what is worth holding onto.
My family, my small group of friends, and my BEST friend Andrew, who I feel has always somehow been there for me just waiting to find me at the exact right moment in our lives when we needed it the most. When all hope was almost lost. When the last twinkle of an almost burnt out candle was about to be blown out. He restored all in me that I felt had been lost.
And I'm so very happy to say that in almost 3 years time, I find myself still becoming antsy and wanting to move things around, but wanting him to be a part of it. Because he is now such a huge part of me.
The constant that will always be.

Why do I care?

Something struck me the other day and I realized that this something has been with me my entire life. What is it you ask? Well, I'll tell you. It's the mere fact that I always have to feel acceptance from people. It doesn't matter who it is. I can't stand it if I feel like someone doesn't like me.
Not too strange you say. Everyone wants to be liked right? Well here's the strange twist to this feeling I have. It doesn't matter if i don't like the person or not. In fact, it's almost as if I crave for such people to like me more than I do the people I don't have a problem with.
Can. You. Say. Therapy?
But seriously. When I look back at most of the friendships I had growing up, I find myself , not feeling nostalgic, but almost as though I was cheated out of something. There was always so much drama and I always found myself getting stuck in the middle of everything. And the worst part of all of this is, that I also found myself in situations when I could have stuck up for someone, usually someone I actually cared about, and didn't because I wanted to be included and feel important.
I'm not proud of those moments.
So after thinking on this and letting it all out, I have found that I still crave such acceptance. I get along with most anyone, but there are a handful of people that I just. can't . stand. No matter how many outs or chances I give them to redeem themselves in my mind. And yet, I would be so upset if I found out that said people indeed don't like me very much either.
What. Is. That?
Does that make sense to anyone? I mean. Why should I care what they say or think about me? Why should I take the time to be offended? I doubt that they would do the same for me.
I guess what I'm getting at is that this subject makes me so sad and angry at the same time. I can't tell you how often I tried to feel accepted by someone, claiming for so long, for years, that she was my best friend. But when I look back at pictures or old videos, all I feel is heartache and ridicule and the hurt of not feeling good enough all over again. Even sadder? I made the effort to find this "friend" on facebook so that we could reconnect.
I know deep down that it doesn't matter how many times I write her or try to keep in touch with her, with no reply I might add. It doesn't matter how much I put myself out there to make an effort to re-kindle what I thought we once had. None of it matters because the only thing i am really trying to rekindle is the emotion I felt towards this person when I was 14 years old. I really did feel that we were best friends and that she treated me nicely, because at the time, that was the way I thought I was supposed to be treated, Though it wasn't nice at all. I'm permananlty scared by the arguments we had. by all of the effort it took me to try and be more like her, to feel accepted and loved by her.
but in reality, I never was.
So why is it that I am arguing with the little girl inside my head over whether or not I should keep trying? Why can't I just accept defeat and come to terms that I am lucky enough and very fortunate in the friends I have managed to make and keep over the years? Why does the haunting image of a little, teenage me keep popping up standing alone on the sidelines in a group full of people?
Why do I even care?