(before i begin, for those concerned for me because of the vent... i'm much better today. i woke up at a normal hour... six thirty something or whenever it was that teresa came into the room and said "kallay" and i said "what" and she said "coffee. convo." i said "mmm hm." i proceeded to roll out of bed and explain myself. the world is a brighter place today. anyway... back to thanks...)
the only commonality between turkey and thanksgiving is that they both start with a "t". i really don't understand some of our strange traditions in this country, but ya know... it is what it is. turkey for thanksgiving. ham for christmas. (which is ironic because in the old testament pork = bad) bunnies for easter... because you know when you have an important family funeral there are always colored eggs and chocolate bunnies. let's see... naked guy with a big arrow for valentine's day... wait... that one kind of makes sense.
anyway, i'm not sure what exactly a giant dead bird overcooking all day has to do with being thankful, but we'll go with it. i personally am thankful for mashed potatoes and gravy. i'm going to miss my thanksgiving again this year. the one where i cook for my family and we all laugh at my grandma's boyfriend after he drinks too much wine. he's like 100 billion years old...so i say drink up dude. you earned it. plus, he's hysterically politically incorrect when he's drunk. i enjoy that about old people. in fact... i am thankful for it. i can't wait til i'm aged enough to be able to say whatever i want and be able to survive the backlash. i really am going to miss that this year. i'm also going to miss cooking. i love the feeling of making a big dinner and everyone sitting down together and enjoying their food. i love hearing people say "YUM!" when they eat my food. Or maybe just the muffled sound of a yum when they have their mouths stuffed full of kallay-cooked goodness.
other things i am thankful for...
coffee.
oh, yeah and this stuff too...
my family because they're hilarious. they're giving, kind, caring, loving, thankful, fun to be around... they're just rad and i hope your family is as cool as mine is.
my friends because they get me. they get my mood swings and my irrational outlook on all things love, marriage, and breeding... they get my sarcastic sense of humor. and my dry sense of humor. they like my stupid faces and my goofy child-like disposition. they don't care if i wake them up throwing up in their bathroom and then ask for bread and country crock while lying hungover on their bathroom floor. they are my shoulders to cry on. my confidants. my people. and i love them.
my talents. even the hidden ones.
my animals. who squish me into the upper corner of MY bed every night. who sometimes (always) wake me in the night by walking over me, kicking me, sneezing, eating, drinking, and cavorting around thinking it's time to get up. yup. i sure do love them. especially maddie. she's a hoot. licking things like walls, envelopes, tape, pictures, sticky notes (this cat loves a good sticky note), shoes... ya know whatever. she just likes to lick it all. and when she's done she'll yell at you. it's really just obnoxious meowing but it's funny nonetheless. unless you're sleeping and she wants to be pet at 3 am. then it's not as funny. and if you think she'll stop you're wrong. you have to pet her. you have to. otherwise she starts hitting. and then she bites. and then she'll walk on your boob. especially right in the middle where it hurts. and if that's not enough she'll find that owie pressure point spot on your hip and stand there until you wake up and G. D. pet her. she's persistent. i love her.
i'm thankful for tight jeans. they remind you that even if it is the holidays.... it's the fucking holidays! stop eating or you'll bust a seam.
i'm thankful that this year is 11/12ths of the way over. i'm ready for a nice heaping of 2009. the prospect of a shiny new calendar... ha! who needs prozac?
finding (matching) black socks. it's magical.
pink fuzzy blankets.
nicorette!!!!!!!!!!!!(!!!!!!!) and cinnamon gum
gas: $1.69
waking up early to watch the most expensive parade ever... and see santa.
cheesy christmas movies with horrible acting
eatin' jeans
generous people who have welcomed me into their family as one of their own.
my beauty. ;) so vain. oh so vain.
but really... i am thankful. i'm heartbroken. i'm in my own little world. building my cocoon again, my hard protective shell. somewhere for me to be introspective, to be with myself and face all my demons so i can pack them away. too much has come out this year. it's time to make peace with it all. i'm thankful for the ability to do this. i am thankful for the people in my life who understand my need for solitude. as much as i hate to be without people, sometimes it is necessary. you know, before i lose my mind and go batshit bananas on everyone. :)
i had a good thanksgiving though. two families. two totally different dinners and styles of celebrations. delicious calling me from the fridge pies. leftovers to last us until next thanksgiving. 700 phone calls to family back home in the mitten. for another holiday away from the ones i love, it wasn't half bad. especially since last year it was spent with fake people, a crock pot of chicken and dumplings and a bag of salad. whoop!
and as tradition calls... i watched christmas vacation. like i do every year after dinner on thanksgiving. this year it was postponed a little due to the raking of leaves/dog excrement, the second thanksgiving in which i apparently offended people, and a short nap during the silliest christmas film fail ever. but mission: accomplished. i got to see clark fall off the roof, throw himself down a hill crashing into walmart, and freak the fuck out which happens to be my favorite part cuddled right up next to aunt bethany putting cat food in her jello mold, much to uncle eddie's delight! and i've eaten a sow's weight in pie. this thanksgiving is adjourned.
so bottoms up because the 2008 holiday season has begun. anyone else just get chills?
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
how to piss off a kallay....
(i don't do disclaimers. but you have been disclaimed. i'm venting. and it might get ugly.)
i'm in a bad mood.
but it's not like a bad mood where i'm throwing milk, slamming doors (ok i did slam a door last night), and yelling at people. no, i'm just kind of slowly slipping into this weird funk. i'm not really sure why. maybe it's the holidays. maybe it's the fact that i am single and don't want to be. it's not THAT so quit thinking it. that was last week. maybe it's just the epitome of 2008. i'm just supposed to sink into a depression for the next month and a half until *ding ding* it's 2009? i'm really not sure. what i do know is, i have had a headache for three days. a real one. not the whiney "oh i have a headache, i'm going to take advil" kind that we all get from time to time. my chest hurts. kind of in the same general vicinity as where my heart is. and people are pissing me off. all of them. if you have two eyes, a nose and a soul, you are aggravating me.
and here's why....
*ahem*
1. i park on the road because i don't want to walk past freaky old guy and weird young guy late at night in the dark with no lights on. i am *afraid* of the dark. parking in my area makes me have to face my fear. i don't want to face my fear at 11:30 at night after i have just cleaned up an entire pond of dirty mop bucket water that i dumped all over the damn floor. i want to park in my space. walk to my door(s), unlock alcatraz and be in pj's in 2.5 seconds flat. i don't want an adrenaline rush. i don't want my life to flash before my eyes. i just want to go HOME. so park in the grass asshole.
2. i am an intelligent, hardworking woman. you do not need to leave me lists. you do not need to explain how to clean refrigerators. you do not need to answer my yes/no question with a paragraph-long explanation. you do not need to schedule me for closing shifts when i am the happiest morning person you have. you do not need to give me all the shifts you don't want to work. you do not need to tell me you have a life outside of work. you do not need to tell me you are a full time student when you are taking one class. in fact, you don't need to tell me anything. i just want you to go away. far and away.
3. i am not a child. do not speak to me like one. i don't have curfews, i moved away from my family so i could do what i wanted without having to explain my every direction. i can eat with utensils. i can drive a car, very well in fact. i have a bank account. i am old enough to know better. i am not your special project. i am not stupid. i might be goofy and play the dumb one at times, but i assure you that my mind is in full working order.
4. i am surrounded by people who think they are better than me. some of them even *know* it.
5. i am every man's rag doll. throw me around. toss me to the ground. love me when they need it. forget me when they don't. but i'm always there. sitting in the cupboard waiting to be loved. i cherish every minute when i am and wait patiently when i am not. all alone. with my yellow yarn hair, my big blue button eyes and my sewn on smile. always happy on the outside, but filled with dirty fuzz on the inside. sitting in the dark. or lying there haphazardly thrown into the cupboard when something better came along. ya know... he was in a hurry. i don't worry though, he'll come back. besides, i like lying here with my right leg behind my head and my left arm curled under my left leg.
6. fuck you bank account.
7. i used to feel like i had style. now i just hope my clothes smell clean and aren't too wrinkled. it's a good day when the fashion fairy allows my jeans to come up over my ass and zip or when i find a shirt that fits over my boobs and doesn't hug my tum tum. i'm not even going to get into the depression that is currently plaguing my shoe collection. i can tell you it pisses me off.
8. i'm sorry hercules and maddie. i wish you had more.
9. a cappuccino has foam and i hope you drown in it.
10. my hair is in dire need. of color. of style. of conditioner. but that costs money and we covered that in #6. my eyebrows i can do myself.
11. ever look in the mirror and get pissed off? just looking at yourself in the eyes disgusts you? maybe not, but i'm there. i'm disappointed in myself. i don't even want to look.
12. give me your license. all of you. i have been pulled out in front of more times this week than i can count on a calculator. there is a lot of life flashing this week what with walking alone in the dark and you dumb ass people aiming your cars. blinkers are not accessories. brakes are not your gas pedal. the world is not your speedway. and for christ's sake, you only need one parking spot. that's a 4 not a 2. move it. do your makeup at home. READ YOUR BOOK in a parking lot, not on the freeway. some people can talk and drive, some people can text and drive... you can not.
13. i think that i have entered the phase of "quit is a four letter word" when it comes to smoking. i want a cigarette. not because i like the taste. i know it's bad for me. but i am depressed and a cigarette would make me feel better.
14. maybe it is the holidays. people gushing about their families. cooking for their families. something i love to do, but can't and won't this year. christmas is looking grim too.
15. i'm tired. of trying. of being so honest. of getting hurt. of feeling lonely. of being afraid. of being put down easily. i'm just tired of it all. tired of feeling like a bug. small and annoying.
this year has been one thing after another. i'm floating around on a string trying to hold on. i keep telling myself it's only another month and a half and things will get better. they have to. right?
please say right.
please say that this torment will stop.
i'm in a bad mood.
but it's not like a bad mood where i'm throwing milk, slamming doors (ok i did slam a door last night), and yelling at people. no, i'm just kind of slowly slipping into this weird funk. i'm not really sure why. maybe it's the holidays. maybe it's the fact that i am single and don't want to be. it's not THAT so quit thinking it. that was last week. maybe it's just the epitome of 2008. i'm just supposed to sink into a depression for the next month and a half until *ding ding* it's 2009? i'm really not sure. what i do know is, i have had a headache for three days. a real one. not the whiney "oh i have a headache, i'm going to take advil" kind that we all get from time to time. my chest hurts. kind of in the same general vicinity as where my heart is. and people are pissing me off. all of them. if you have two eyes, a nose and a soul, you are aggravating me.
and here's why....
*ahem*
1. i park on the road because i don't want to walk past freaky old guy and weird young guy late at night in the dark with no lights on. i am *afraid* of the dark. parking in my area makes me have to face my fear. i don't want to face my fear at 11:30 at night after i have just cleaned up an entire pond of dirty mop bucket water that i dumped all over the damn floor. i want to park in my space. walk to my door(s), unlock alcatraz and be in pj's in 2.5 seconds flat. i don't want an adrenaline rush. i don't want my life to flash before my eyes. i just want to go HOME. so park in the grass asshole.
2. i am an intelligent, hardworking woman. you do not need to leave me lists. you do not need to explain how to clean refrigerators. you do not need to answer my yes/no question with a paragraph-long explanation. you do not need to schedule me for closing shifts when i am the happiest morning person you have. you do not need to give me all the shifts you don't want to work. you do not need to tell me you have a life outside of work. you do not need to tell me you are a full time student when you are taking one class. in fact, you don't need to tell me anything. i just want you to go away. far and away.
3. i am not a child. do not speak to me like one. i don't have curfews, i moved away from my family so i could do what i wanted without having to explain my every direction. i can eat with utensils. i can drive a car, very well in fact. i have a bank account. i am old enough to know better. i am not your special project. i am not stupid. i might be goofy and play the dumb one at times, but i assure you that my mind is in full working order.
4. i am surrounded by people who think they are better than me. some of them even *know* it.
5. i am every man's rag doll. throw me around. toss me to the ground. love me when they need it. forget me when they don't. but i'm always there. sitting in the cupboard waiting to be loved. i cherish every minute when i am and wait patiently when i am not. all alone. with my yellow yarn hair, my big blue button eyes and my sewn on smile. always happy on the outside, but filled with dirty fuzz on the inside. sitting in the dark. or lying there haphazardly thrown into the cupboard when something better came along. ya know... he was in a hurry. i don't worry though, he'll come back. besides, i like lying here with my right leg behind my head and my left arm curled under my left leg.
6. fuck you bank account.
7. i used to feel like i had style. now i just hope my clothes smell clean and aren't too wrinkled. it's a good day when the fashion fairy allows my jeans to come up over my ass and zip or when i find a shirt that fits over my boobs and doesn't hug my tum tum. i'm not even going to get into the depression that is currently plaguing my shoe collection. i can tell you it pisses me off.
8. i'm sorry hercules and maddie. i wish you had more.
9. a cappuccino has foam and i hope you drown in it.
10. my hair is in dire need. of color. of style. of conditioner. but that costs money and we covered that in #6. my eyebrows i can do myself.
11. ever look in the mirror and get pissed off? just looking at yourself in the eyes disgusts you? maybe not, but i'm there. i'm disappointed in myself. i don't even want to look.
12. give me your license. all of you. i have been pulled out in front of more times this week than i can count on a calculator. there is a lot of life flashing this week what with walking alone in the dark and you dumb ass people aiming your cars. blinkers are not accessories. brakes are not your gas pedal. the world is not your speedway. and for christ's sake, you only need one parking spot. that's a 4 not a 2. move it. do your makeup at home. READ YOUR BOOK in a parking lot, not on the freeway. some people can talk and drive, some people can text and drive... you can not.
13. i think that i have entered the phase of "quit is a four letter word" when it comes to smoking. i want a cigarette. not because i like the taste. i know it's bad for me. but i am depressed and a cigarette would make me feel better.
14. maybe it is the holidays. people gushing about their families. cooking for their families. something i love to do, but can't and won't this year. christmas is looking grim too.
15. i'm tired. of trying. of being so honest. of getting hurt. of feeling lonely. of being afraid. of being put down easily. i'm just tired of it all. tired of feeling like a bug. small and annoying.
this year has been one thing after another. i'm floating around on a string trying to hold on. i keep telling myself it's only another month and a half and things will get better. they have to. right?
please say right.
please say that this torment will stop.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
but what i really mean is...
have you ever talked to someone or written someone and you want to say something, but you can't. it would be awkward or it would cause tension. i hate this feeling. i have something to say. i want to tell this person so badly. but i just can't. it would be weird. for one, my friends would think i'm an idiot. (and i AM idiotic on most calendar days) two, the person would probably think i'm some sort of insane asylum escapee. and three, i can't believe that this thought/feeling is even in there. really, i can't.
it's just been bubbling up in there. floating around in my head. maybe if i just write it out and then delete it, it will help? nope. didn't work. still there.
this is strange. i shouldn't be feeling this way. no, seriously. i really shouldn't. i should be moving on and forgetting this and shoving it in the back of my head closet. way back. like bury it. under that one thing that i forgot about and now remember again.
fuck.
dear brain,
please erase this ridiculous thought/feeling from your cells. we are not going there. at least not today or anytime this week. or probably anytime this month. we need to simmer in it. or hide it.
much love...
self
damn.
damndamndamn.
it's just been bubbling up in there. floating around in my head. maybe if i just write it out and then delete it, it will help? nope. didn't work. still there.
this is strange. i shouldn't be feeling this way. no, seriously. i really shouldn't. i should be moving on and forgetting this and shoving it in the back of my head closet. way back. like bury it. under that one thing that i forgot about and now remember again.
fuck.
dear brain,
please erase this ridiculous thought/feeling from your cells. we are not going there. at least not today or anytime this week. or probably anytime this month. we need to simmer in it. or hide it.
much love...
self
damn.
damndamndamn.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
where's my shoe? (and other nic fits)
Day one is always the hardest. I quit the night before, smoking my last tube of death at 11:52 pm. Yesterday morning I woke up to the pitter patter of dachshund paws scurrying across the floor. Oh, it was 5:25 am by the way. My alarm was set for 5:30 am. So I got up, knowing that 5 extra minutes of sleep were not going to help me achieve this day. And that's when I started bouncing. Off the walls, off the chair, off the coffee pot... I had so much energy, I probably could (should) have stopped at one cup of coffee. I took a shower and prepared for work realizing, I STILL had no idea where my other black shoe was. And so begins my first nic fit. I am looking through laundry, clean clothes, in the closet about 5 times, bouncing like tigger on adrenaline through the house searching for my shoe. Lifting up couches, looking in dead closets (the ones where nothing lives but you look anyway in case the lost item wandered in there without realizing), I was absolutely on a rampage. I looked in the closet one more time, this time with the light on and found it cuddled up nicely with my purple fuzzy slipper. Aw. FOUND IT!
Happy to have located my work shoe, I began to wander around the house, which literally translates to me pacing rapidly from room to room unable to decide what to do with myself. I sat down at the table while Teresa checked her email and wiggled like a 3 year old that has to pee. She looked over the computer screen with contempt in her eyes and went back to reading. I decided cereal would be a good option here. For one thing, I haven't eaten real breakfast in a long time. Brunch doesn't count. And it would probably keep my hands and mouth busy for a few minutes anyway. So I poured myself a bowl of Smart Start and sat contentedly at the table eating my cereal like a good girl. Quitting smoking raises my energy levels to that of a 5 year old. So yesterday I was in a cereal eating contest and finished my bowl in record time.
Now what? I finished getting ready for work, popped in a piece of nicotine gum and teresa and i were off to the races. me, vibrating all the way to work. the one day i need there to be good music on the radio or *something* to entertain me, they play slow ballads and songs no one has ever heard nor does anyone want to. i arrive at work 15 minutes early. fabulous. but not actually fabulous. because now i have to sit here.
so i'm sitting there... shaking. looking frantically around the car for something to do. i see quite a lot of crap. i decide to make a list.
what to do at lunch:
1. stop shaking. oh wait...
1. clean out car. that's better..
2. read book, if i can stop wiggling long enough to read the words.
3. eat slow. i might as well cross this one off because i can't do anything slow at the moment.
4. talk on the phone.
5. chew gum like a cow.
i finish my list and walk into work feeling great that i am a quitter. i should wear a name tag... hello my name is: quitter, i am so proud. i open the cafe in record time. 9 am, doors open and i don't have a single customer until 10 am. this is another instance where God thinks he's funny so he tests my limits of tenacity by making me bored to see if i can stand the energy literally pulsating through my veins. making me feel like i might explode kallay parts all over the cafe if i don't find something, ANYTHING to do. so i cleaned. i cleaned syrup racks, i wiped off counters, i wrapped sandwiches, i windexed glass, i organized papers, i did dishes, i filled anything that needed to be filled. i'm afraid i might have frightened the first customer i had. "HELLO!!!!!! Welcome to the 2nd Really Big Bookstore!!! WANT SOME COFFEE!!!??? COOKIE??? DO YOU LIKE CAFFEINE? I love caffeine. I also love reading, walking on the beach, your purse, and my dog. Do you have any animals?" *crazy wide smile with eyeballs bulging out* is what happened next i'm sure. i took some really deep breaths. all day. i just could not stand or sit still. i am a human vibrator when quitting smoking.
i did clean my car out at lunch though. i talked to kerry too. i couldn't read, the words were moving around too fast. i chewed my gum. nothing is working though. i just have to wait for this to be over.
it's funny how you get so used to smoking when you're doing certain things. morning for me was always coffee and cigarettes. checking email... smoking. driving... smoketastic! big meals... always have a cigarette afterward. take the dogs out? time to smoke! it's hard to re-program your brain. i'll be sitting in the car and i'll reach for my purse and i'll forget what i was looking for and realize... i was looking for my cigarettes. i'll be checking my email and wondering what's missing or drinking coffee and wonder why i can taste it. smoking is more than just a bad habit for your body but it's a bad habit for your life! it infiltrates itself like a virus in a computer and you are suddenly having to relearn how to function with out it. and it's so damn hard! i don't want to smoke because i am really enjoying the fresh air. but i just don't know what to do with myself.
teresa has to watch me bouncy ball myself around the apartment. i'm driving her batty bonkers. i talk about a million miles an hour. and poor hercules has never been pet so fast in all his life. i'm just BURSTING at the seams!! it's absolutely ridiculous to watch.
i did finally lay down last night and go to sleep... after my foot stopped moving to the beat of a woodpecker.
now i'm awake and having to make another game plan. it's day two. i have a meeting today. i hope i don't scare them walking in there all Doc Brown muttering to myself about time travel. i'm unsure of how i am going to handle nervous energy on top of the already ridiculous amount of whatever this is when i go in there.
perhaps heels might be a bad idea today?
Happy to have located my work shoe, I began to wander around the house, which literally translates to me pacing rapidly from room to room unable to decide what to do with myself. I sat down at the table while Teresa checked her email and wiggled like a 3 year old that has to pee. She looked over the computer screen with contempt in her eyes and went back to reading. I decided cereal would be a good option here. For one thing, I haven't eaten real breakfast in a long time. Brunch doesn't count. And it would probably keep my hands and mouth busy for a few minutes anyway. So I poured myself a bowl of Smart Start and sat contentedly at the table eating my cereal like a good girl. Quitting smoking raises my energy levels to that of a 5 year old. So yesterday I was in a cereal eating contest and finished my bowl in record time.
Now what? I finished getting ready for work, popped in a piece of nicotine gum and teresa and i were off to the races. me, vibrating all the way to work. the one day i need there to be good music on the radio or *something* to entertain me, they play slow ballads and songs no one has ever heard nor does anyone want to. i arrive at work 15 minutes early. fabulous. but not actually fabulous. because now i have to sit here.
so i'm sitting there... shaking. looking frantically around the car for something to do. i see quite a lot of crap. i decide to make a list.
what to do at lunch:
1. stop shaking. oh wait...
1. clean out car. that's better..
2. read book, if i can stop wiggling long enough to read the words.
3. eat slow. i might as well cross this one off because i can't do anything slow at the moment.
4. talk on the phone.
5. chew gum like a cow.
i finish my list and walk into work feeling great that i am a quitter. i should wear a name tag... hello my name is: quitter, i am so proud. i open the cafe in record time. 9 am, doors open and i don't have a single customer until 10 am. this is another instance where God thinks he's funny so he tests my limits of tenacity by making me bored to see if i can stand the energy literally pulsating through my veins. making me feel like i might explode kallay parts all over the cafe if i don't find something, ANYTHING to do. so i cleaned. i cleaned syrup racks, i wiped off counters, i wrapped sandwiches, i windexed glass, i organized papers, i did dishes, i filled anything that needed to be filled. i'm afraid i might have frightened the first customer i had. "HELLO!!!!!! Welcome to the 2nd Really Big Bookstore!!! WANT SOME COFFEE!!!??? COOKIE??? DO YOU LIKE CAFFEINE? I love caffeine. I also love reading, walking on the beach, your purse, and my dog. Do you have any animals?" *crazy wide smile with eyeballs bulging out* is what happened next i'm sure. i took some really deep breaths. all day. i just could not stand or sit still. i am a human vibrator when quitting smoking.
i did clean my car out at lunch though. i talked to kerry too. i couldn't read, the words were moving around too fast. i chewed my gum. nothing is working though. i just have to wait for this to be over.
it's funny how you get so used to smoking when you're doing certain things. morning for me was always coffee and cigarettes. checking email... smoking. driving... smoketastic! big meals... always have a cigarette afterward. take the dogs out? time to smoke! it's hard to re-program your brain. i'll be sitting in the car and i'll reach for my purse and i'll forget what i was looking for and realize... i was looking for my cigarettes. i'll be checking my email and wondering what's missing or drinking coffee and wonder why i can taste it. smoking is more than just a bad habit for your body but it's a bad habit for your life! it infiltrates itself like a virus in a computer and you are suddenly having to relearn how to function with out it. and it's so damn hard! i don't want to smoke because i am really enjoying the fresh air. but i just don't know what to do with myself.
teresa has to watch me bouncy ball myself around the apartment. i'm driving her batty bonkers. i talk about a million miles an hour. and poor hercules has never been pet so fast in all his life. i'm just BURSTING at the seams!! it's absolutely ridiculous to watch.
i did finally lay down last night and go to sleep... after my foot stopped moving to the beat of a woodpecker.
now i'm awake and having to make another game plan. it's day two. i have a meeting today. i hope i don't scare them walking in there all Doc Brown muttering to myself about time travel. i'm unsure of how i am going to handle nervous energy on top of the already ridiculous amount of whatever this is when i go in there.
perhaps heels might be a bad idea today?
Monday, November 17, 2008
i'm such a quitter...
"you're well on your way to lung cancer if you don't quit."
he said that. not to my friend, not to someone i know, no... he said that to ME.
we (the smokers) have heard it all before. "you're going to die from that." "it's bad for you." "you're too pretty to smoke." "cigarettes cause lung cancer." the list continues.
i wonder if the people that have died from lung cancer were warned. did they just not care? did they think it wouldn't happen to them? i know that i have taken my lungs for granted. i am not going to live forever but why would i do something that would make my life shorter? especially when death is my greatest fear which boils down to some other fears like being terrified of the dark. it just seems so stupid. not even ignorant because ignorance is the knowledge we have not attained. i have the knowledge and do it anyway... that's stupidity. and i am not a stupid girl.
so in a way, being sick has enlightened me. or at least it has pushed me on the swing to recovery. after this....
i am done. i will not live in fear because of something i am doing to myself. every time i light up a cigarette i get excited because i know i am almost done. i know it sounds silly to build it up like that but it's better to be excited about quitting i think. it made it easier last time i quit. last time i chose. this time my brain is forcing it. i'm sure the cravings will start. the first two days are the worst. then after that i get hungry and the battle of the bulging ass resumes. but that's why people exercise and the money i spent on a week of cigarettes can now go to something more productive like a gym membership. what a concept.
some back story....
i had walking pneumonia last november when i was training for my management position at Really Big Bookstore. i was miserable. couldn't breathe, couldn't talk, had no energy. after that i had the flu. then pneumonia AND the flu AND a sinus infection. a few months later my appendix peaced out on me. and now i have severe bronchitis/borderline pneumonia again. i've only smoked consistently for about 2 years. two. that's it. but i am slowly killing myself. and that's sad. the doctor said "welcome to TN!" when i told him my allergies were getting worse. he asked me if i had ever had asthma... no, i haven't. then he asked if i smoke. yes, i sure do. like a champ! (says kerry!) that's when he looked me in the eye and told me that i am well on my way to lung cancer if i don't quit. most people don't even get pneumonia once in their lifetime. i have had it three times in one year. ONE year. apparently, that's not good. (kidding)
i've had doctors tell me to quit before of course. my answer is always, well i'm going to quit! and they are happy with that answer and move on. this doctor scared me. he kept pressing the issue. this doctor cared enough about my health to tell me the hard truth. my body has been knocking on my brain all year. "hello! i can't breathe. are you done yet?" now i can honestly say that yes, i am done. i don't like waking up in the morning, taking that first fresh breath of morning air and then having it catch in my throat leading to a coughing fit. feeling like you're choking is scary. and i'm sick of being sick. i've been sick all year and it's my own fault. so i'm done.
thank you dr. h. for scaring the crap out of me. for telling me that the reason i have been so sick is because of my smoking. for telling me that i am going to die choking if i don't stop. with one sentence, he changed my thinking. how is it possible for people i know to smoke all the time and never get sick? i don't know. but for whatever reason i do and i don't want to anymore. i'm scared. enough to quit and do something else to calm down. to be a quitter and stay that way.
i don't want to die choking. i don't want to miss the important things because i was stupid and couldn't put down the damn pink lighter. and i won't.
because damn it, i quit!
he said that. not to my friend, not to someone i know, no... he said that to ME.
we (the smokers) have heard it all before. "you're going to die from that." "it's bad for you." "you're too pretty to smoke." "cigarettes cause lung cancer." the list continues.
i wonder if the people that have died from lung cancer were warned. did they just not care? did they think it wouldn't happen to them? i know that i have taken my lungs for granted. i am not going to live forever but why would i do something that would make my life shorter? especially when death is my greatest fear which boils down to some other fears like being terrified of the dark. it just seems so stupid. not even ignorant because ignorance is the knowledge we have not attained. i have the knowledge and do it anyway... that's stupidity. and i am not a stupid girl.
so in a way, being sick has enlightened me. or at least it has pushed me on the swing to recovery. after this....
i am done. i will not live in fear because of something i am doing to myself. every time i light up a cigarette i get excited because i know i am almost done. i know it sounds silly to build it up like that but it's better to be excited about quitting i think. it made it easier last time i quit. last time i chose. this time my brain is forcing it. i'm sure the cravings will start. the first two days are the worst. then after that i get hungry and the battle of the bulging ass resumes. but that's why people exercise and the money i spent on a week of cigarettes can now go to something more productive like a gym membership. what a concept.
some back story....
i had walking pneumonia last november when i was training for my management position at Really Big Bookstore. i was miserable. couldn't breathe, couldn't talk, had no energy. after that i had the flu. then pneumonia AND the flu AND a sinus infection. a few months later my appendix peaced out on me. and now i have severe bronchitis/borderline pneumonia again. i've only smoked consistently for about 2 years. two. that's it. but i am slowly killing myself. and that's sad. the doctor said "welcome to TN!" when i told him my allergies were getting worse. he asked me if i had ever had asthma... no, i haven't. then he asked if i smoke. yes, i sure do. like a champ! (says kerry!) that's when he looked me in the eye and told me that i am well on my way to lung cancer if i don't quit. most people don't even get pneumonia once in their lifetime. i have had it three times in one year. ONE year. apparently, that's not good. (kidding)
i've had doctors tell me to quit before of course. my answer is always, well i'm going to quit! and they are happy with that answer and move on. this doctor scared me. he kept pressing the issue. this doctor cared enough about my health to tell me the hard truth. my body has been knocking on my brain all year. "hello! i can't breathe. are you done yet?" now i can honestly say that yes, i am done. i don't like waking up in the morning, taking that first fresh breath of morning air and then having it catch in my throat leading to a coughing fit. feeling like you're choking is scary. and i'm sick of being sick. i've been sick all year and it's my own fault. so i'm done.
thank you dr. h. for scaring the crap out of me. for telling me that the reason i have been so sick is because of my smoking. for telling me that i am going to die choking if i don't stop. with one sentence, he changed my thinking. how is it possible for people i know to smoke all the time and never get sick? i don't know. but for whatever reason i do and i don't want to anymore. i'm scared. enough to quit and do something else to calm down. to be a quitter and stay that way.
i don't want to die choking. i don't want to miss the important things because i was stupid and couldn't put down the damn pink lighter. and i won't.
because damn it, i quit!
Thursday, November 13, 2008
the war of door (s)
so i realize i am being repetitive here, but i had to share. something ridiculous is happening and i'd like it to stop, please and thank you!
so last night, all excited that i could semi-breathe and talk like a woman, i decided to forgo my new nightly ritual of sleeping vertical on the couch and lay down for the first time in 5 days. this was a bad idea in and of itself but it was only worsened when 2 am rolled around. i had just fallen asleep after a fit of coughing and hacking and sleeping slanted on the bed because of hercules when i heard..
ding dong ding dong ding dong ding donG DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG DiNg dOnG DiNg dONG DINGDONG WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON DOWN THERE!!!!????
the dinging and donging continue. i know who it is. and i know why they're doing it. but damn it so help me if i have to get out of this bed i'm going to hurt someone with my eye daggers. bella is losing her mind. teresa is losing her mind. i start coughing again and i am now awake and i don't wanna BE!!!!
so hercules runs down the stairs doing his doggie laugh, i am shortly behind, not doing my doggie laugh. in fact, i'm not even doing my human laugh. i open the door for the three amigos and in they saunter... giggling like 5th grade girls. hello, it's WEDNESDAY! and you're 30-something. why are you drunk holding SONIC bags, giggling and ringing the doorbell incessantly? why? it's so mean. i want to punch you. all of you! in the nuts even!
one of the amigos disappears and moments later the door to their apartment opens and they all scream with pure delight. i mean, they screamed kind of like teresa and i scream after we defeat the locking yourself out process, but we're girls! and that's normal! they're boys... is that normal? of this i am unsure, but as they filed into their apartment one by one like bottles on an assembly line they all received the eye daggers. shortly before this teresa screamed down the stairs something so loud it was inaudible and then the door was slammed and i wondered if i had also just been locked out of my home. they weren't scared. they thought it was funny. getting locked out and causing sleep interruption for the girls upstairs. yes! grand plan morons!
one of us is sick. one of us can't fall asleep. and both of us have an alarm for 5:30 waiting to pounce. so hide a key already. i tuck the boys into their beers and SONIC food and walk up the stairs praying for an open door and for a little peace and quiet for the rest of the night (morning). it is clear that laying down would make me even more miserable so back to the couch i went. pile on the pillows, flip on the humidifier, take some anti-awake cough medicine and fall asleep around 3 am, not so blissfully. the alarm goes off and instead of just pushing the shut up button a million times, i apparently decided to skip that step and just turn it all the way off. so this morning my alarm took on the voice of my roommate saying "kallay did you know it's 6:45?!"
clearly not, as i was unsure at that point what my name was or why i was on the couch. 5 seconds later it all came rushing back and i was traveling to the kitchen for a date with the coffee maker. i was late but it made my coffee anyway. :) nice coffee machine no? i drove to work half in a daze from the meds that were still working since i had not taken them until 2:30 am and i was up at some 6:45 hour that no one should have invented. opened the cafe with ease and all of a sudden i am sweating bullets. i just broke a fever. i'm coughing up my left lung, blowing my right nostril, and can feel another fever coming on when my GM comes over and asks me if i'm ok. when i answer her in my newly refurbished robotic male voice she tells me i need to go home and go to the doctor. she thinks i have bronchitis. apparently it's been going around the store. lovely. just what i always wanted. why can't millionairism ever go around? i'd like to catch that!
so here i sit, waiting to go meet with dr. i'm going to pump you full of expensive drugs at 3:45 pm. pissed that i'm even here because perhaps if slammy, dingy and dongy hadn't messed with my REM cycles last night i wouldn't be here fighting off a fever. cheez-its.
oh and there we go again. another slam. i think it's high time operation revenge kicks in. teresa, are you reading this? it's time. time i tell you!!!
so last night, all excited that i could semi-breathe and talk like a woman, i decided to forgo my new nightly ritual of sleeping vertical on the couch and lay down for the first time in 5 days. this was a bad idea in and of itself but it was only worsened when 2 am rolled around. i had just fallen asleep after a fit of coughing and hacking and sleeping slanted on the bed because of hercules when i heard..
ding dong ding dong ding dong ding donG DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG DiNg dOnG DiNg dONG DINGDONG WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON DOWN THERE!!!!????
the dinging and donging continue. i know who it is. and i know why they're doing it. but damn it so help me if i have to get out of this bed i'm going to hurt someone with my eye daggers. bella is losing her mind. teresa is losing her mind. i start coughing again and i am now awake and i don't wanna BE!!!!
so hercules runs down the stairs doing his doggie laugh, i am shortly behind, not doing my doggie laugh. in fact, i'm not even doing my human laugh. i open the door for the three amigos and in they saunter... giggling like 5th grade girls. hello, it's WEDNESDAY! and you're 30-something. why are you drunk holding SONIC bags, giggling and ringing the doorbell incessantly? why? it's so mean. i want to punch you. all of you! in the nuts even!
one of the amigos disappears and moments later the door to their apartment opens and they all scream with pure delight. i mean, they screamed kind of like teresa and i scream after we defeat the locking yourself out process, but we're girls! and that's normal! they're boys... is that normal? of this i am unsure, but as they filed into their apartment one by one like bottles on an assembly line they all received the eye daggers. shortly before this teresa screamed down the stairs something so loud it was inaudible and then the door was slammed and i wondered if i had also just been locked out of my home. they weren't scared. they thought it was funny. getting locked out and causing sleep interruption for the girls upstairs. yes! grand plan morons!
one of us is sick. one of us can't fall asleep. and both of us have an alarm for 5:30 waiting to pounce. so hide a key already. i tuck the boys into their beers and SONIC food and walk up the stairs praying for an open door and for a little peace and quiet for the rest of the night (morning). it is clear that laying down would make me even more miserable so back to the couch i went. pile on the pillows, flip on the humidifier, take some anti-awake cough medicine and fall asleep around 3 am, not so blissfully. the alarm goes off and instead of just pushing the shut up button a million times, i apparently decided to skip that step and just turn it all the way off. so this morning my alarm took on the voice of my roommate saying "kallay did you know it's 6:45?!"
clearly not, as i was unsure at that point what my name was or why i was on the couch. 5 seconds later it all came rushing back and i was traveling to the kitchen for a date with the coffee maker. i was late but it made my coffee anyway. :) nice coffee machine no? i drove to work half in a daze from the meds that were still working since i had not taken them until 2:30 am and i was up at some 6:45 hour that no one should have invented. opened the cafe with ease and all of a sudden i am sweating bullets. i just broke a fever. i'm coughing up my left lung, blowing my right nostril, and can feel another fever coming on when my GM comes over and asks me if i'm ok. when i answer her in my newly refurbished robotic male voice she tells me i need to go home and go to the doctor. she thinks i have bronchitis. apparently it's been going around the store. lovely. just what i always wanted. why can't millionairism ever go around? i'd like to catch that!
so here i sit, waiting to go meet with dr. i'm going to pump you full of expensive drugs at 3:45 pm. pissed that i'm even here because perhaps if slammy, dingy and dongy hadn't messed with my REM cycles last night i wouldn't be here fighting off a fever. cheez-its.
oh and there we go again. another slam. i think it's high time operation revenge kicks in. teresa, are you reading this? it's time. time i tell you!!!
Sunday, November 9, 2008
why are you in such a hurry?
you know, i hate this question. i hate this question more than "what do you weigh?". i hate this question more than "why don't you want to be a chef?". i hate this question more than i hate the word panties and i hate all of those things. they disgust me. but this question.... this question takes the proverbial damn cake.
here's why...
if you're single, you will relate. if you're not single, you were once asked this question and will be able to think back to the time when you were asked this question and will remember that YOU HATED IT TOO!!!!
i am single. not desperate, not ugly, not jaded (okay maybe a little), and i'm kind of a catch. (or so say my friends) so just because i date a lot of guys does not necessarily mean that i am in a hurry. it just means that i don't want to waste my time on someone i can barely stand an hour with much less an entire lifetime. this isn't to say that i haven't dated some really nice guys, because i have. i've dated some guys that would be real catches, just not for me. some of my guy friends were previous datees and have become some of my really great friends. so i don't always date assholes, i just tend to marry and commit to the assholes.
on the flip side of this though, why NOT be in a hurry? if your very best friend is waiting for you at the airport, do you not drive a little faster? if you're starving and dinner is finally done, your plate of food goes from full to empty at an astonishing rate. and if your favorite show is coming on but you're trying to finish cleaning... that windex is a flyin' sweetie. so why should i be moving at the pace of a turtle to find THAT person???
that person who "gets" me. that person who makes me laugh and treats me like a human being. that person who knows that i hate beans and always ask for extra condiments. that person who knows i like my coffee strong and my knees weak. why is it so wrong for me to want to stop wasting my time with guys who don't care about anything beyond sleeping with me or wanting ME to like them? isn't that supposed to be a good thing? i mean i'm kind of damned if i do and damned if i don't.
i read an article that says you should treat looking for a partner like a part time job spending at least 15 hours per week searching online and otherwise for *the* guy. even *I* think that's excessive. i do agree with the part of the article that basically says, if you lock yourself out of the world, don't expect mr. right to accidentally fall in your lap or come magically knocking on your door. the real world just doesn't work that way. i don't think that spending 15 hours a week on searching for love is exactly mentally healthy but i get what they're saying. i think i fall somewhere in the middle of all of that and that's plenty ok with me because unless someone is going to pay me for the 15 hours of working to find mr. right... eff that shiz.
i just had to say it though. stop asking me this question... for the love of all things chocolate. i'm not in a hurry. ok? i am just sick and tired of sharing my life with myself. we're good! me and myself know everything there is to know about me and myself. we would just like to share it with someone else now. we're tired of talking in third person and sharing our stories with a cat. we're tired of cuddling with a really really hairy dog. (even if he is totally cute.) and we are definitely tired of the casual sex. yup. i said it. i sure did. no reason to lie. i'm almost 27 years old and i am TIRED of casual sex. because casual is not far in the dictionary from complicated and you know what? it's kind of boring. there's no talking. there's no real connection. there's no 3-5 date build up. it's just "hi! you're hot! wanna...?" yep. boring.
let's play this game your way and say that i am in a hurry though and you really need to know the answer or your hair will fall out and your teeth will turn green... God forbid. i would be in a hurry because i have heard couples say that they wish they would have met their significant other sooner. i have watched too many romantic comedies and the seed is planted that the older you get, the less available childless men there are out there. (not that i mind dating guys with children... if they behave... i've had some... instances... a barnacle and a beast are ringing a bell... another blog... sorry i digress) i would be in a hurry because i love that warm fuzzy feeling of arguing with someone and coming to a compromise. and because i've met enough guys to know that i haven't met him yet.
HIM... the guy i know absolutely nothing about. i don't know what he looks like. i don't know what he smells like, what his hobbies are, or how he likes his eggs. i don't know where he lives, if he's close to his family, or what his favorite color is. but i know that i want to meet him. i'm not crazy for wanting to meet the man of my dreams. i know this because somewhere out there... the man of my dreams is pining for a girl like me. except maybe not for a girl LIKE me, but just me. like my sister says, it might be someone i've already met. she's also the reason that the guys i tend to date are absolutely nothing alike. when people asked her (when she was single) what she looked for in a guy she said she didn't know because she hadn't met him yet. and i've totally stolen that line of logical thinking. i'm getting a little pickier though, or at least getting better at weeding out what i don't want in a life partner.
all that said, i do have a great roommate who lets me vent and spew craziness. i have best friends who help me laugh and giggle until my sides hurt. i have a supportive family who listens and sometimes gives great advice. i can't complain. and i'm not. i'm just tired of this stupid question. because it is stupid. if i was late for work and you asked me this question it would be just as annoying.
just thought i'd clear that up. thanks for playing!
here's why...
if you're single, you will relate. if you're not single, you were once asked this question and will be able to think back to the time when you were asked this question and will remember that YOU HATED IT TOO!!!!
i am single. not desperate, not ugly, not jaded (okay maybe a little), and i'm kind of a catch. (or so say my friends) so just because i date a lot of guys does not necessarily mean that i am in a hurry. it just means that i don't want to waste my time on someone i can barely stand an hour with much less an entire lifetime. this isn't to say that i haven't dated some really nice guys, because i have. i've dated some guys that would be real catches, just not for me. some of my guy friends were previous datees and have become some of my really great friends. so i don't always date assholes, i just tend to marry and commit to the assholes.
on the flip side of this though, why NOT be in a hurry? if your very best friend is waiting for you at the airport, do you not drive a little faster? if you're starving and dinner is finally done, your plate of food goes from full to empty at an astonishing rate. and if your favorite show is coming on but you're trying to finish cleaning... that windex is a flyin' sweetie. so why should i be moving at the pace of a turtle to find THAT person???
that person who "gets" me. that person who makes me laugh and treats me like a human being. that person who knows that i hate beans and always ask for extra condiments. that person who knows i like my coffee strong and my knees weak. why is it so wrong for me to want to stop wasting my time with guys who don't care about anything beyond sleeping with me or wanting ME to like them? isn't that supposed to be a good thing? i mean i'm kind of damned if i do and damned if i don't.
i read an article that says you should treat looking for a partner like a part time job spending at least 15 hours per week searching online and otherwise for *the* guy. even *I* think that's excessive. i do agree with the part of the article that basically says, if you lock yourself out of the world, don't expect mr. right to accidentally fall in your lap or come magically knocking on your door. the real world just doesn't work that way. i don't think that spending 15 hours a week on searching for love is exactly mentally healthy but i get what they're saying. i think i fall somewhere in the middle of all of that and that's plenty ok with me because unless someone is going to pay me for the 15 hours of working to find mr. right... eff that shiz.
i just had to say it though. stop asking me this question... for the love of all things chocolate. i'm not in a hurry. ok? i am just sick and tired of sharing my life with myself. we're good! me and myself know everything there is to know about me and myself. we would just like to share it with someone else now. we're tired of talking in third person and sharing our stories with a cat. we're tired of cuddling with a really really hairy dog. (even if he is totally cute.) and we are definitely tired of the casual sex. yup. i said it. i sure did. no reason to lie. i'm almost 27 years old and i am TIRED of casual sex. because casual is not far in the dictionary from complicated and you know what? it's kind of boring. there's no talking. there's no real connection. there's no 3-5 date build up. it's just "hi! you're hot! wanna...?" yep. boring.
let's play this game your way and say that i am in a hurry though and you really need to know the answer or your hair will fall out and your teeth will turn green... God forbid. i would be in a hurry because i have heard couples say that they wish they would have met their significant other sooner. i have watched too many romantic comedies and the seed is planted that the older you get, the less available childless men there are out there. (not that i mind dating guys with children... if they behave... i've had some... instances... a barnacle and a beast are ringing a bell... another blog... sorry i digress) i would be in a hurry because i love that warm fuzzy feeling of arguing with someone and coming to a compromise. and because i've met enough guys to know that i haven't met him yet.
HIM... the guy i know absolutely nothing about. i don't know what he looks like. i don't know what he smells like, what his hobbies are, or how he likes his eggs. i don't know where he lives, if he's close to his family, or what his favorite color is. but i know that i want to meet him. i'm not crazy for wanting to meet the man of my dreams. i know this because somewhere out there... the man of my dreams is pining for a girl like me. except maybe not for a girl LIKE me, but just me. like my sister says, it might be someone i've already met. she's also the reason that the guys i tend to date are absolutely nothing alike. when people asked her (when she was single) what she looked for in a guy she said she didn't know because she hadn't met him yet. and i've totally stolen that line of logical thinking. i'm getting a little pickier though, or at least getting better at weeding out what i don't want in a life partner.
all that said, i do have a great roommate who lets me vent and spew craziness. i have best friends who help me laugh and giggle until my sides hurt. i have a supportive family who listens and sometimes gives great advice. i can't complain. and i'm not. i'm just tired of this stupid question. because it is stupid. if i was late for work and you asked me this question it would be just as annoying.
just thought i'd clear that up. thanks for playing!
Saturday, November 8, 2008
the family way
every family is unique. we all have our own traditions. our own inside jokes. our own battles. our own dynamic.
i grew up in a small summer resort town off the coast of lake michigan. it's beautiful with it's historic downtown and clean neighborhoods. a perfect place to raise a family. or at least that's what i thought when i was little. i always felt like i was different growing up in a town like this. our family wasn't the mom, dad, sister, brother, dog kind of family and obviously still isn't. never will be, in fact. that used to bother me, but not so much anymore. i have been blessed with the family that God chose for me.
i grew up in a predominately female environment with my mom, my grandma, and my sister who is my elder by 8 years, meaning... i have 3 moms. my grandma, the leader; my mom, the encourager; and my sister, the hammer. interesting that my discipline came from a sibling. i am extremely close to them and value their opinions, which are usually all extremely different making my indecisiveness even more fun when seeking advice.
my grandma leads by example living a simple and fulfilling lifestyle. marrying once and sticking to it, even through the hard times. she handles tragedy with grace and strength that i haven't seen in any other human being. she's compassionate, hard-working and absolutely hilarious. she's neither vain nor high maintenance, rude nor impatient. appropriately nicknamed saint midge. a good person the have at the helm of a family. she has her very own blog that i wrote in the beginning of this year. she's just wonderful...
my mother is a free spirit and while she is my mother, she is also my friend. we have our arguments. but without fail, she is the one i call at 3 in the morning when i can't breathe because i've been crying so hard or because i am sick and need advice on how to feel better. she's the one who encourages me. the one who "gets" me. she knows i am happier when i am surrounded by big city unknown. her favorite expression is that the apple didn't fall far from the tree. which has been shortened to just "apple....tree". she's always been the yes mom which growing up was great but later on in life i've had to learn on my own that you can't always get what you want. she's a good mom though. she's always encouraging me to press on with my goals and my dreams. when i need her, really really need her, she's right there.
and then there's my sister. being 8 years apart we have had some hard times relating to one another. we grew up in different decades for one! we are also very very different people. she prefers the safe small town living while i prefer adventure and big city living. she's short with straight naturally light blonde hair and i am amazon with crazy curly almost brown hair. we both have blue eyes. i tease her a lot, calling her june cleaver. it's not an insult. it's the highest form of a compliment. my sister is a great mother. i know this because she's practically one of mine. growing up she was not my playmate or my little bit older sister i could go to for advice, but she was always the one to set me straight. and i *hated* it. we had our fights that were over absolutely nothing, like me breathing wrong or her looking at me mean from across the room but hello, we are sisters. we antagonize. but sometimes she was right, and if you have a sister you know what i mean when i say that i hated to be wrong. nothing could flip my switch more than that.
now we're both adults. i'm 20-something, she's 30-something and our differences remain. but somehow we are able to talk to each other like intelligent human beings. we laugh together on the phone, mostly because she's the funniest person i know. i make fun of her, she makes fun of me, and we have a good time. if i ever had someone to look up to though for a good role model for a wife and mother (other than my grandmother) it would be her. my niece and nephew are two of the most beautiful children on the planet. i'm sure my brother in law had something to do with that too. but they are well behaved. my nephew is hysterical just like his mommy. he is polite and sweet and just plain great. it's because his mom takes the time to show him what is right and what is wrong. she lives in such a way that he doesn't have to hear it to do it. he just follows her lead. when they grow up she will give good advice, she will be at every school function, and she will be happy and excited about being there. not because it's her job as a mom but because she really truly loves her children. she has dinner on the table every night even though she hates to cook. she does it because she wants that for her family. she appreciates the lifestyle that she has and doesn't take it for granted. she has a wonderful doting husband who fawns over her not because she begs for it but because how can you not love someone who tries so hard to make everything perfect for the ones she loves? she is also my number one protector. always has been, always will be. she can rip me apart but if anyone else says a peep she is the first to defend me. she is my sister, no matter how different we are.
sometimes the only way you can get to know people are through the words of others. i am not always forgiving with my words. i get frustrated and angry. i get down trodden and annoyed. and sometimes the people that i love the most in this world are the ones to get hurt by this. it is NOT intentional. my writing is not meant to sting or burn. it is meant to get out a thought or thoughts. as a writer there is a constant script. always something brewing in the back of my mind. always something to say. writing things down always makes me feel better. even if down the road my feelings change, what was written is written. it's how i felt.
my family, no matter how far away i live or how many fights we have, will always be my family. they are my soft place to fall when life goes awry. so know this, there may be times when i am frustrated and i vent, but they are MY family and i love them dearly, because no matter what, they are mine. mine to vent and cheer and write about and i wouldn't have them any other way.
i grew up in a small summer resort town off the coast of lake michigan. it's beautiful with it's historic downtown and clean neighborhoods. a perfect place to raise a family. or at least that's what i thought when i was little. i always felt like i was different growing up in a town like this. our family wasn't the mom, dad, sister, brother, dog kind of family and obviously still isn't. never will be, in fact. that used to bother me, but not so much anymore. i have been blessed with the family that God chose for me.
i grew up in a predominately female environment with my mom, my grandma, and my sister who is my elder by 8 years, meaning... i have 3 moms. my grandma, the leader; my mom, the encourager; and my sister, the hammer. interesting that my discipline came from a sibling. i am extremely close to them and value their opinions, which are usually all extremely different making my indecisiveness even more fun when seeking advice.
my grandma leads by example living a simple and fulfilling lifestyle. marrying once and sticking to it, even through the hard times. she handles tragedy with grace and strength that i haven't seen in any other human being. she's compassionate, hard-working and absolutely hilarious. she's neither vain nor high maintenance, rude nor impatient. appropriately nicknamed saint midge. a good person the have at the helm of a family. she has her very own blog that i wrote in the beginning of this year. she's just wonderful...
my mother is a free spirit and while she is my mother, she is also my friend. we have our arguments. but without fail, she is the one i call at 3 in the morning when i can't breathe because i've been crying so hard or because i am sick and need advice on how to feel better. she's the one who encourages me. the one who "gets" me. she knows i am happier when i am surrounded by big city unknown. her favorite expression is that the apple didn't fall far from the tree. which has been shortened to just "apple....tree". she's always been the yes mom which growing up was great but later on in life i've had to learn on my own that you can't always get what you want. she's a good mom though. she's always encouraging me to press on with my goals and my dreams. when i need her, really really need her, she's right there.
and then there's my sister. being 8 years apart we have had some hard times relating to one another. we grew up in different decades for one! we are also very very different people. she prefers the safe small town living while i prefer adventure and big city living. she's short with straight naturally light blonde hair and i am amazon with crazy curly almost brown hair. we both have blue eyes. i tease her a lot, calling her june cleaver. it's not an insult. it's the highest form of a compliment. my sister is a great mother. i know this because she's practically one of mine. growing up she was not my playmate or my little bit older sister i could go to for advice, but she was always the one to set me straight. and i *hated* it. we had our fights that were over absolutely nothing, like me breathing wrong or her looking at me mean from across the room but hello, we are sisters. we antagonize. but sometimes she was right, and if you have a sister you know what i mean when i say that i hated to be wrong. nothing could flip my switch more than that.
now we're both adults. i'm 20-something, she's 30-something and our differences remain. but somehow we are able to talk to each other like intelligent human beings. we laugh together on the phone, mostly because she's the funniest person i know. i make fun of her, she makes fun of me, and we have a good time. if i ever had someone to look up to though for a good role model for a wife and mother (other than my grandmother) it would be her. my niece and nephew are two of the most beautiful children on the planet. i'm sure my brother in law had something to do with that too. but they are well behaved. my nephew is hysterical just like his mommy. he is polite and sweet and just plain great. it's because his mom takes the time to show him what is right and what is wrong. she lives in such a way that he doesn't have to hear it to do it. he just follows her lead. when they grow up she will give good advice, she will be at every school function, and she will be happy and excited about being there. not because it's her job as a mom but because she really truly loves her children. she has dinner on the table every night even though she hates to cook. she does it because she wants that for her family. she appreciates the lifestyle that she has and doesn't take it for granted. she has a wonderful doting husband who fawns over her not because she begs for it but because how can you not love someone who tries so hard to make everything perfect for the ones she loves? she is also my number one protector. always has been, always will be. she can rip me apart but if anyone else says a peep she is the first to defend me. she is my sister, no matter how different we are.
sometimes the only way you can get to know people are through the words of others. i am not always forgiving with my words. i get frustrated and angry. i get down trodden and annoyed. and sometimes the people that i love the most in this world are the ones to get hurt by this. it is NOT intentional. my writing is not meant to sting or burn. it is meant to get out a thought or thoughts. as a writer there is a constant script. always something brewing in the back of my mind. always something to say. writing things down always makes me feel better. even if down the road my feelings change, what was written is written. it's how i felt.
my family, no matter how far away i live or how many fights we have, will always be my family. they are my soft place to fall when life goes awry. so know this, there may be times when i am frustrated and i vent, but they are MY family and i love them dearly, because no matter what, they are mine. mine to vent and cheer and write about and i wouldn't have them any other way.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
My Big Fat Breakfast
Big Fatty's Catering Kitchen
5005 Kingston Pike
Knoxville, TN 37919
(865) 219-8317
Sunday was one of those days. I woke up practically skipping to the coffee pot. Arriving at my final destination of warm dark roasted heaven, lathered in french vanilla creamer, I set out to face my day. I drove to work and handled my end of the inventory battle. I left at 9:30 am with one purpose and one purpose only... to eat. Still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I march up the stairs to drag the roomie out of bed and force her to enjoy my very good day.
I recently moved to Knoxville in an attempt to keep my feet fully planted in southern soil. I love it here. The people, the weather (usually), and especially... the food! Being new to the area would seem, to most, a disadvantage. To me it's an adventure. A culinary adventure if nothing else. I came upon Big Fatty's one Sunday morning when my roomie and I were looking for a good breakfast place. My usual breakfast of strong coffee and cigarettes wasn't going to cut it. I wanted eggs benedict. What I found was better. So much better.
We drove into the parking lot like the Dukes of Hazard, starving and needing coffee. Upon entering there were a few people seated around a round table talking and laughing and carrying on. The owners and managers! We were told to pick a seat any seat. Glance around the restaurant and you'll find all kinds of interesting things to feast your eyes on. Brightly colored walls adorned with colorful art and a wall of windows. Our waiter greeted us with a smile and soon after we were blessed with our coffee.
This place is everything eclectic. Right down to the mismatched coffee cups. Along with coffee we were served their strawberry muffins. Sweet, tender little sponge cake like muffins with real macerated strawberries on top.
Two minutes later they were gone and my mouth was watering for more. The breakfast menu is basic at first glance. Eggs with bacon, eggs with this, eggs with that. Where are my eggs benedict? I begin to pout. I'm kind of a baby when it comes to cravings. I want it when I want it. And they didn't have it. Then a little something caught my eye... Big Fat Biscuit... Biscuits topped with pork, covered in gravy and two eggs on top as the crowning glory. How do you say "yes, please" in the south? Sounds like southern eggs benedict to me!!
I ordered mine with two over-easy eggs, grits and a side of the cutest little pancakes you've ever seen. Pancakes are extra but worth it! Roomie ordered the same and then we waited. Conversation is easy to come by in a place like this. The waiter was not afraid to talk to us, the other managers and owners were super friendly. It was almost like walking into their home kitchen and having them make us breakfast. The people in the restaurant ranged from young to old and from every walk of life. This is a good sign. This means my breakfast is going to rock. At this point, I am beyond excited.
And then there it was, resting peacefully on a Shoney's Blue Plate Special plate, naive to the fact that I was about to devour every last morsel. I break open the yolks and let them mingle with the gravy and pork. Sink my fork into the middle and notice... I don't need a knife. There's meat on this biscuit that is fork tender. My calorie count for the day is in trouble, I can see that. I continue on through the biscuit expecting that it would be goo-tastic with all the gravy, but it wasn't. Those little soldiers held up through the whole meal! Bite after bite of smokey marinated pork, tender but wholesome biscuit, perfectly seasoned gravy and over easy egg. My pancakes stared at me feeling left out, forgotten even. What could I do? The grits were perfectly creamy without being runny or overdone. I couldn't get over the texture of the biscuits and I had just found my new eggs benedict! Move over pancakes!
Breakfast was over, and I felt like a Big Fatty. I had eaten a week's worth of breakfast in one meal, drank my body weight in coffee, and was now expected to walk out of the restaurant vertical and without explosion. We made a pit stop at the register, paid the bill and made sure to tip our waiter his well earned tip. We promised to return. And return we did. And return we will again.
Big Fatty's is a breakfast place on Sundays if you're looking for great brunch items. But they also have an amazing array of other meals for lunch and dinner. My favorite sandwich included... the french dip. Originally started as a catering company, they recently opened the restaurant, and I couldn't be happier. Some of their other foods include creative salads, like The Happy Fatty which includes chicken, bleu cheese, pecans and mangoes on a bed of wild greens, a very large selection of sandwiches and burgers with a little something for everyone with a range of everything from seafood to vegan/vegetarian options, and of course their Blue Plate Specials. Monday through Sunday, there's something for everyone, meatloaf, chicken & dumplings, you can't go wrong with comfort food. You can even order to go! Which is a viable option for me since every time I eat here I need to be carried out. Y'all they even have dessert! HOMEMADE Banana Pudding, red velvet cake, and a white chocolate and caramel brownie.
If you're looking for yum, drive yourself with haste to 5005 Kingston Pike, and bring a friend. Or call them at (865) 219-8317 and order the Blue Plate Special to go with some homemade banana pudding. You'll be happily marching into Big Fatty's at least once a week once you do, and probably with sweat pants on.
Monday, November 3, 2008
hallo - fucking - ween and mental revelations
well, this weekend was interesting!
it was bipolar if nothing else.
halloween was on friday, as everyone who doesn't stuff their face under a rock knows. i worked. nothing too exciting about that, mostly because it's the same ol', same ol'. clean this, make this, drink this, taste this, clean this again, rinse this, steam this, clock this. out. but i got out early! the plan was that teresa was getting in and sprite for my gin & tonic addiction, i was getting gatorade, coffee, and beer for our morning after party. (which is never really more than... vertical sucks and i hate my life. why did you let me drink that much? can you believe him!? coffee, gatorade, advil, beer.... in that order.) so i make my way back to *almost* downtown knox where we live, go to kroger's get a fucked up cart as always and proceed to shop for my MAP items. get to the register and realize we need ice, add a bag of ice and i'm out the door.
i knew what i was driving home to. teresa had called me about an hour earlier letting me know that *someone* had closed the wooden door. the wooden door to which we do NOT have a key. personally, i think it's ridiculous to have to unlock 3 doors to arrive safely home but whatever... alcatraz it is. so she called john the maintenance dude, russ, the landlord dude, and john tried calling trevor, the downstairs dude. no one could help so we called a locksmith. $65 later and we were finally home. well, $65 and one more door to unlock and we were home. we run up the stairs, drink some G&Ts and start the costume process. teresa takes a shower, kelsey shows up and we help him into his monk costume, and we are finally ready for makeup. i look up the youtube video so i can properly apply the ten loads of black eyeliner to my lids and begin. an hour later we are made up, dressed up, and buzzed up. where are dawn and adrian? they arrive shortly before allen our cab driver. the following is what ensued...
taxi allen serenaded me. we took pictures and arrived safely at hanna's. we drank, we danced, we took silly pictures. we had an all around great time. some nurse stepped on my foot and didn't apologize. i have a bruise to prove it. bitch. i stole someone's wings and then left them somewhere but i have photographic evidence that at one point in the evening i had wings! after this is when things got ugly. and not just woe is she... but just plain oooogly.
the fun was officially over. teresa was tired, dawna and adrian were no longer sober and i had spent $40 on booze. allen was on the other side of town and we had no way to get home. it was fuh-reezing. my alcohol consumption was starting to catch up with my brain cells, the world was a-spinnin', and i was pissed off. kelsey had opted out of our hanna's fun and had decided to head to valrium with his friend david. there is some back story on this but you'll really be ok not knowing about it. david was driving kelsey home and had been asked by kelsey to pretty pretty please come pick us up. well, david had to go get another friend first. ONE friend. david has more then one extra seat in his car. whatever, dude. at this point we are starting assume there is a girl involved and say fuck it. we'll find a cab. yeah... not really. not on halloween. and not in downtown knoxville. we had reserved a cab for 2:30 am but he didn't show. so we call allen again. meanwhile, teresa and i decide to head to the pizza place to stand inside since my dress barely covers my ass and is for sure not a winter coat. allen shows up! love him like air!
we get home and i am still seething from the whole david situation. it doesn't help that i am 100% drunk, my world is now one giant rollercoaster, and drunk and angry make me cry. so i go all crazy white girl on the apartment, slamming doors, getting water and slamming the fridge, go to my room and lay on my spinning bed. drink the whole bottle of water and am sleeping within minutes. the morning after party began at 9:30am when i woke up with my head split in two and my eyelids unable to open due to the tears vs. eyelash glue from the night before. i SLOWLY rise from the bed that has now stopped spinning thankfully and make my way down the hall to the bathroom. peel my eyelashes off, open my eyes, peel the contacts out of my eyeballs, and pee. sweet jesus i need advil. somehow locate the bottle on the dining room table, take 2, drink another entire bottle of water and fall back to sleep. 1:30pm rolls around and i text message teresa. "uuuugh." was all it said. and before her phone could even receive it, she was sitting on my bed with a quad shot caramel macchiato (extra caramel) from staryucks. best roomie... ever. i carefully pour the life giver into my mouth and swallow with pure delight.
5 minutes later we are on the couch rehashing the evening, looking at pictures and i am still pissed about david. we arrive at the conclusion that since we did not get a call back until 4 am that there was most definitely a girl involved and we wanted no further details thankyouverymuch.
saturday is do nothing but hang over day. we read, we ate taco bell (because taco bell is the only acceptable hang over food), we clean the house, and then we veg. nothing seemed like the only viable option for things to do on saturday night. i had to get up early sunday for work and we both felt like we'd run a marathon and won, so nothing is what we did. and it felt goood.
sunday morning i wake up all bright eyed and bushy tailed. head to work for inventory. leave at 9:30 am return home and get ready for the exciting adventure of restaurant review! i recently contacted a website to try and get published. i told them that i was interested in writing restaurant reviews and entertainment venue reviews from the view point of the new girl in town. i am after all, the knoxville rookie. i am in one of those "shut up you're too damn happy moods". i literally should have skipped to big fatty's for breakfast. it might have calmed me down. so we have an amazing brunch. complete with strawberry muffins and big fat biscuits which is basically the equivalent of a southern style eggs benedict. biscuits, smoked pork, gravy and over easy eggs on top. it's heaven on a shoney's blue plate special plate. coffee consumed, breakfast in my belly and we head home to our family farm. we run some errands, pick up some stuff at teresa's sister's house and jcpenney's and head home again. teresa is feeling more productive. she probably could have conquered the world. i did some laundry. watched a girlie movie. ate some chips and salsa and too much leftover halloween candy. and then for some reason my brain decided to let me know that i sucked and i had sort of a meltdown.
teresa and i talked about my revelation. basically it boils down to this... i am a glutton for punishment. i have a nasty habit of forgiving. forgiving people who might not deserve it, giving people second chances when they didn't even deserve a first one. i have a hard time letting go. i regret things mentally that on the outside i would never show. i am happy on the outside and scrambled on the inside. kind of like a breakfast burrito. so when the opportunity to talk things out and smooth things over comes along, i am the first one in line. unfortunately this condition is related to my relationships. i get burned a lot. or as i usually put it, i get mind fucked a lot. i get morse code messages. yes i like you, let's be friends, but just kidding i actually liked you. mind reader is not on my mental resume and unfortunately the guys that i date tend to feel like i should study up on clairvoyance. if they're not speaking in clear terms, like in english, i'm not going to get it. i don't take hints very well. i'm gullible as a child and this is what gets me into trouble. i also try too hard. i play hard to get but really, my heart is easily won. i'm a heart on my sleeve kind of girl. i will tell anyone anything anywhere. it's just how i am. i don't hide much. maybe my thighs but that's about it.
i think because so many people around me are happy in their relationships, i am wondering if i will ever have that. and instead of just letting it come to me (which requires that whole part of being patient thing that i totally suck at... waiting) i just go out and try to find it myself. if a guy i date is giving me the friend vibe... i move on. sorry charlie. i don't have time to waste. why spend time with someone who clearly isn't interested? (or at least to ME is clearly not interested.) i'm that annoying happily ever after seeker. the dreamer. the wishful-thinking, fairytale loving, softy. i've watched too many romantic comedies. i know this. i know this like i know how to make a killer latte.
it's a lot like christmas when you're 5. you see this beautiful barbie dream house. it's all decked out in pink and barbie swagger. you want it. no, you *need* it. it will help you make friends at school! it will be THE fixture of your room. and it's only $400! your mom HAS to understand that this dream house is not just a gift, it's a life changing object! in reality though $400 is a lot of money for pink plastic and cardboard. glittery stickers are included and it lights up but the batteries are extra. you're dreaming, princess, if you think that monster of a present is going to be under that tree on christmas morning. which is kind of like the relationships i tend to pursue. i want the grandiose romantic gestures. the kisses in the rain. the love notes on the pillow. and the carriage ride through central park. but in reality if a guy opens a door for you and doesn't tell you that you suck... you're probably doing alright. especially if he calls on a regular basis, lets you know where he's going to be and doesn't give you mixed signals. these are all good things.
the barbie dream house was not under the tree on christmas morning. but i did get a small pink cardboard doll house to play with and i loved it. it was good enough. even at that age, i learned to appreciate what i had. in relationships, i don't get the dream house, but i also don't get the good enough guy either. i get the mixed signals, the brush offs, the cheaters, the criminals, the assholes... you name it, i've dated it. so as i look around me and see all of these functioning relationships... i wonder if this is even attainable for me. i wonder if, when i meet the guy who will treat me like i am worth holding on to, i will be happy like that christmas morning. i wonder if good enough will suffice. or will i tell myself i can do better? that's kind of sick, but it's true. and sometimes the truth hurts. knowing this of myself can only help though. it can only help me realize when i'm asking too much. on the flip side of this, it will also help me stay away from the toxic men who have seriously but a damper on my love life. it will help me spot the rotten eggs before they spoil me. it will help me not to forgive so quickly and really be done when i say i'm done. leave without regret and realize when the end is really the end.
all that said, good luck to mr. good enough... wherever you are. i am (not so patiently) waiting for you.
it was bipolar if nothing else.
halloween was on friday, as everyone who doesn't stuff their face under a rock knows. i worked. nothing too exciting about that, mostly because it's the same ol', same ol'. clean this, make this, drink this, taste this, clean this again, rinse this, steam this, clock this. out. but i got out early! the plan was that teresa was getting in and sprite for my gin & tonic addiction, i was getting gatorade, coffee, and beer for our morning after party. (which is never really more than... vertical sucks and i hate my life. why did you let me drink that much? can you believe him!? coffee, gatorade, advil, beer.... in that order.) so i make my way back to *almost* downtown knox where we live, go to kroger's get a fucked up cart as always and proceed to shop for my MAP items. get to the register and realize we need ice, add a bag of ice and i'm out the door.
i knew what i was driving home to. teresa had called me about an hour earlier letting me know that *someone* had closed the wooden door. the wooden door to which we do NOT have a key. personally, i think it's ridiculous to have to unlock 3 doors to arrive safely home but whatever... alcatraz it is. so she called john the maintenance dude, russ, the landlord dude, and john tried calling trevor, the downstairs dude. no one could help so we called a locksmith. $65 later and we were finally home. well, $65 and one more door to unlock and we were home. we run up the stairs, drink some G&Ts and start the costume process. teresa takes a shower, kelsey shows up and we help him into his monk costume, and we are finally ready for makeup. i look up the youtube video so i can properly apply the ten loads of black eyeliner to my lids and begin. an hour later we are made up, dressed up, and buzzed up. where are dawn and adrian? they arrive shortly before allen our cab driver. the following is what ensued...
taxi allen serenaded me. we took pictures and arrived safely at hanna's. we drank, we danced, we took silly pictures. we had an all around great time. some nurse stepped on my foot and didn't apologize. i have a bruise to prove it. bitch. i stole someone's wings and then left them somewhere but i have photographic evidence that at one point in the evening i had wings! after this is when things got ugly. and not just woe is she... but just plain oooogly.
the fun was officially over. teresa was tired, dawna and adrian were no longer sober and i had spent $40 on booze. allen was on the other side of town and we had no way to get home. it was fuh-reezing. my alcohol consumption was starting to catch up with my brain cells, the world was a-spinnin', and i was pissed off. kelsey had opted out of our hanna's fun and had decided to head to valrium with his friend david. there is some back story on this but you'll really be ok not knowing about it. david was driving kelsey home and had been asked by kelsey to pretty pretty please come pick us up. well, david had to go get another friend first. ONE friend. david has more then one extra seat in his car. whatever, dude. at this point we are starting assume there is a girl involved and say fuck it. we'll find a cab. yeah... not really. not on halloween. and not in downtown knoxville. we had reserved a cab for 2:30 am but he didn't show. so we call allen again. meanwhile, teresa and i decide to head to the pizza place to stand inside since my dress barely covers my ass and is for sure not a winter coat. allen shows up! love him like air!
we get home and i am still seething from the whole david situation. it doesn't help that i am 100% drunk, my world is now one giant rollercoaster, and drunk and angry make me cry. so i go all crazy white girl on the apartment, slamming doors, getting water and slamming the fridge, go to my room and lay on my spinning bed. drink the whole bottle of water and am sleeping within minutes. the morning after party began at 9:30am when i woke up with my head split in two and my eyelids unable to open due to the tears vs. eyelash glue from the night before. i SLOWLY rise from the bed that has now stopped spinning thankfully and make my way down the hall to the bathroom. peel my eyelashes off, open my eyes, peel the contacts out of my eyeballs, and pee. sweet jesus i need advil. somehow locate the bottle on the dining room table, take 2, drink another entire bottle of water and fall back to sleep. 1:30pm rolls around and i text message teresa. "uuuugh." was all it said. and before her phone could even receive it, she was sitting on my bed with a quad shot caramel macchiato (extra caramel) from staryucks. best roomie... ever. i carefully pour the life giver into my mouth and swallow with pure delight.
5 minutes later we are on the couch rehashing the evening, looking at pictures and i am still pissed about david. we arrive at the conclusion that since we did not get a call back until 4 am that there was most definitely a girl involved and we wanted no further details thankyouverymuch.
saturday is do nothing but hang over day. we read, we ate taco bell (because taco bell is the only acceptable hang over food), we clean the house, and then we veg. nothing seemed like the only viable option for things to do on saturday night. i had to get up early sunday for work and we both felt like we'd run a marathon and won, so nothing is what we did. and it felt goood.
sunday morning i wake up all bright eyed and bushy tailed. head to work for inventory. leave at 9:30 am return home and get ready for the exciting adventure of restaurant review! i recently contacted a website to try and get published. i told them that i was interested in writing restaurant reviews and entertainment venue reviews from the view point of the new girl in town. i am after all, the knoxville rookie. i am in one of those "shut up you're too damn happy moods". i literally should have skipped to big fatty's for breakfast. it might have calmed me down. so we have an amazing brunch. complete with strawberry muffins and big fat biscuits which is basically the equivalent of a southern style eggs benedict. biscuits, smoked pork, gravy and over easy eggs on top. it's heaven on a shoney's blue plate special plate. coffee consumed, breakfast in my belly and we head home to our family farm. we run some errands, pick up some stuff at teresa's sister's house and jcpenney's and head home again. teresa is feeling more productive. she probably could have conquered the world. i did some laundry. watched a girlie movie. ate some chips and salsa and too much leftover halloween candy. and then for some reason my brain decided to let me know that i sucked and i had sort of a meltdown.
teresa and i talked about my revelation. basically it boils down to this... i am a glutton for punishment. i have a nasty habit of forgiving. forgiving people who might not deserve it, giving people second chances when they didn't even deserve a first one. i have a hard time letting go. i regret things mentally that on the outside i would never show. i am happy on the outside and scrambled on the inside. kind of like a breakfast burrito. so when the opportunity to talk things out and smooth things over comes along, i am the first one in line. unfortunately this condition is related to my relationships. i get burned a lot. or as i usually put it, i get mind fucked a lot. i get morse code messages. yes i like you, let's be friends, but just kidding i actually liked you. mind reader is not on my mental resume and unfortunately the guys that i date tend to feel like i should study up on clairvoyance. if they're not speaking in clear terms, like in english, i'm not going to get it. i don't take hints very well. i'm gullible as a child and this is what gets me into trouble. i also try too hard. i play hard to get but really, my heart is easily won. i'm a heart on my sleeve kind of girl. i will tell anyone anything anywhere. it's just how i am. i don't hide much. maybe my thighs but that's about it.
i think because so many people around me are happy in their relationships, i am wondering if i will ever have that. and instead of just letting it come to me (which requires that whole part of being patient thing that i totally suck at... waiting) i just go out and try to find it myself. if a guy i date is giving me the friend vibe... i move on. sorry charlie. i don't have time to waste. why spend time with someone who clearly isn't interested? (or at least to ME is clearly not interested.) i'm that annoying happily ever after seeker. the dreamer. the wishful-thinking, fairytale loving, softy. i've watched too many romantic comedies. i know this. i know this like i know how to make a killer latte.
it's a lot like christmas when you're 5. you see this beautiful barbie dream house. it's all decked out in pink and barbie swagger. you want it. no, you *need* it. it will help you make friends at school! it will be THE fixture of your room. and it's only $400! your mom HAS to understand that this dream house is not just a gift, it's a life changing object! in reality though $400 is a lot of money for pink plastic and cardboard. glittery stickers are included and it lights up but the batteries are extra. you're dreaming, princess, if you think that monster of a present is going to be under that tree on christmas morning. which is kind of like the relationships i tend to pursue. i want the grandiose romantic gestures. the kisses in the rain. the love notes on the pillow. and the carriage ride through central park. but in reality if a guy opens a door for you and doesn't tell you that you suck... you're probably doing alright. especially if he calls on a regular basis, lets you know where he's going to be and doesn't give you mixed signals. these are all good things.
the barbie dream house was not under the tree on christmas morning. but i did get a small pink cardboard doll house to play with and i loved it. it was good enough. even at that age, i learned to appreciate what i had. in relationships, i don't get the dream house, but i also don't get the good enough guy either. i get the mixed signals, the brush offs, the cheaters, the criminals, the assholes... you name it, i've dated it. so as i look around me and see all of these functioning relationships... i wonder if this is even attainable for me. i wonder if, when i meet the guy who will treat me like i am worth holding on to, i will be happy like that christmas morning. i wonder if good enough will suffice. or will i tell myself i can do better? that's kind of sick, but it's true. and sometimes the truth hurts. knowing this of myself can only help though. it can only help me realize when i'm asking too much. on the flip side of this, it will also help me stay away from the toxic men who have seriously but a damper on my love life. it will help me spot the rotten eggs before they spoil me. it will help me not to forgive so quickly and really be done when i say i'm done. leave without regret and realize when the end is really the end.
all that said, good luck to mr. good enough... wherever you are. i am (not so patiently) waiting for you.
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