I get addicted to things easily. It is a hard fact that I have recently come to terms with. It sucks. I am a creature of habit and I love routine. So when I really like something, even if it is bad for me, I want it in my day (and in my mouth) all the time, anytime. Not good.
As a very little girl, I can tell you that my first vice was apple juice. I would wake up in the middle of the night screaming for it. My want was so strong that sometimes I would have drunk the last bit at dinner time, so my Dad would actually go out at midnight to buy more for me. At a place really far away because this was 1985 and things weren't open around the clock like they are now.
As I grew older, I liked many things: ice cream, chocolate, bagels and cream cheese, pizza, my still same indulgences, but the next thing that really hooked me was nicotine. I tried my first cigarette when I was thirteen and became a pretty regular smoker by age fifteen (there was one local gas station by my high school that didn't card for cigarettes). At this time, I also became a very regular diet soda drinker.
I see now that I was using cigarettes and diet soda as an appetite suppressant. I was always searching for thin, so smoking and drinking zero calorie chemicals filled me with something to do with my hands and mouth instead of eating actual food. And because I was young and therefore an idiot, it also made me feel very glamorous. Celebrities smoked and drank diet soda, models did, too. Even grungy rockers indulged in smokes and Diet Cokes, it felt so rebellious and grownup.
As the years passed, diet soda and Parliament Lights became a staple. Sometimes it was all I sustained on until dinner time. Smoking became less enticing as the years passed because I could no longer stand the smell and because a smoking ban in bars and restaurants was put into action in Chicago. Besides being a diet aid, smoking was also a way for me to deal with my social anxiety in public. I chained smoked whenever I went out for a night on the town. Hard fact, but going out was actually a bit less fun for me when I couldn't smoke. I finally kicked the smoking habit for good about seven years ago and it actually wasn't that hard, which surprised me. I am pretty good at doing things when I put my mind to it, I just have to be ready to make a major change. I was way ready to no longer smoke.
As my vices peeled away: alcohol, ADHD medicine, pot; food became my new drug. It makes sense because I had never dealt with the beginnings of my eating issues. The ones that started popping up in puberty and were quelled with diet soda and cigarettes before I ever realized that my feelings and actions around food were disordered and extremely unhealthy.
Just recently, after all of these years, I decided to give up my oldest remaining vice, diet soda.
I love diet soda. My top picks are Diet Dr Pepper and Diet Coke. When it gets bad, I can easily drink 5-6 cans a day. Diet soda has always been with me. Through hangovers, all-nighters, finals, 18 hour work days, long drives in the car. I was always drinking one, thinking about drinking one, or on my way to get one.
Over the last year, I have given up most of my empty calories. I eat whole foods and avoid my binging triggers when I can. But, with my clean salads, I was still slugging back the diet soda. It hit me a few weeks ago as I admired my grocery cart in the checkout line. As I unloaded my beautiful produce and lean cuts of meat onto the conveyer belt, the Diet Coke 12-pack wasn't really making sense to me anymore. Yes, that first sip out of a newly opened ice cold can from the fridge is intoxicating, but I actually started to not even really like it all that much. Diet soda had started to leave me feeling polluted and my only real major sugar cravings appeared after I drank a few of them. Sometimes after a few cans or a large fountain cup (ahhh, the best, especially from McDonalds) I would start fixating on a doughnut or cupcake, treats I am not even really a fan of (ice cream YES, baked goods, not so much). And it is worth mentioning, that diet soda has changed the quality of my teeth. All that acid has broken down my enamel and vanity usually wins for me in the end.
I have now been ten days without a diet soda. The first few days were actually brutal. I had horrible migraines, outbursts and cravings for every diet soda I ever tried, including Fresca. I REALLY wanted a Fresca. But within about five days, I was fine. Just like when I gave up smoking. It wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be once I got past the initial discomfort and break of a long-term routine. I still drink coffee (never giving that up) and I bought lots of fancy bubbly waters and seltzers. I am quenching my thirst just fine. And popping open a little can of Perrier gives me the same satisfaction of having a diet soda in my hand (or cup holder) 24/7.
I am excited. Another vice smashed and hopefully gone forever. It feels incredible to take control over all the things I allowed to get so out of control as major or minor as they may be. Once in a while, I plan to enjoy a cold regular Coca Cola as a special treat and I promise that I will savor every sip of it.
Showing posts with label My Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Life. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Friday, December 20, 2013
Failure, Rejection and Confrontation
I have been a bad bad blogger lately. And yet, I have a bunch to say. Lately, I just haven't felt like saying anything. Some of it is being in a new place and some of it is that I am planning a wedding and some of it is that I am sitting around a bunch, too much. I find that I am VERY lazy and unproductive when I give myself too much unorganized time. When I have tons of downtime, after a while, I feel some old and familiar signs of depression sneaking up on me. Lately, I have been blah. Busy doing things that don't really matter, but not busy working. I miss working.
A few days ago, I applied for a job that I REALLY WANT. The first one that I am perfectly qualified for at a place that I would be super proud to work for. I feel this tidal wave of anxiety and doubt. I haven't felt this want in so long. It's the same kind of want that I used to feel when I was single and praying for a partner.
In the last few years, I have become very familiar with 2 things that I have always feared: failure and rejection.
Yes, running your own business, there is a TON of it. Mix in a failed relationship, countless dead-end dates and living with your parents while you celebrated your 31st and 32nd birthday. Well, I could have made a failure and rejection sundae.
But, the things that I feared the most, aren't that big of a deal. Some people don't like me? That's okay, I typically don't like them more right back. I tried a new approach and it wasn't the best way to get something done? Well, I tried something new. And let's not even mention all of the MASSIVE business mistakes that I made time and time again? The good news here is that I learned. I tried and failed and I eventually made a conscious decision that I needed to change. And when I go back to being an independent business owner again, I will be SO MUCH BETTER and WISER. And more successful.
I may get this job. I may not. Life will go on and I will eventually find something that suits me. It will all be okay. I know this.
As then there was confrontation. I get the chills just typing that word. There is nothing that makes me feel worse than a fight. I hate when people are mad at me. I even hate when people I hate are mad at me. I even hate when people I hate who are stupid idiots are mad at me, even when I know that they are stupid idiots. OY. Exhausting.
Recently, I have learned that confrontation and I are not friends because I conditioned myself to be an enabler. I enable bad behavior, rude treatment and pure insanity to avoid altercations. I spent years lying and over-promising to get out of necessary conversations and conflict, "You aren't treating me right...", "I feel what you are doing is unethical", "Why are you going behind my back when I can help you." I would have rather kept silent than be on any one's radar. This is not a good way to live life as an active participant.
Since I have moved, I have been working on this. If I can't do something for someone, I don't. If someone is trying to take their bad day out on me for something that isn't my fault, I ask them. If I make a mistake, I admit it and own it and find a solution rather than running away like I used to.
Confrontation isn't such a bad thing. I mean, without it, my favorite channel in the world, Bravo, would never exist. Their entire program lineup is just confrontation videotaped in different cites....
A few days ago, I applied for a job that I REALLY WANT. The first one that I am perfectly qualified for at a place that I would be super proud to work for. I feel this tidal wave of anxiety and doubt. I haven't felt this want in so long. It's the same kind of want that I used to feel when I was single and praying for a partner.
In the last few years, I have become very familiar with 2 things that I have always feared: failure and rejection.
Yes, running your own business, there is a TON of it. Mix in a failed relationship, countless dead-end dates and living with your parents while you celebrated your 31st and 32nd birthday. Well, I could have made a failure and rejection sundae.
But, the things that I feared the most, aren't that big of a deal. Some people don't like me? That's okay, I typically don't like them more right back. I tried a new approach and it wasn't the best way to get something done? Well, I tried something new. And let's not even mention all of the MASSIVE business mistakes that I made time and time again? The good news here is that I learned. I tried and failed and I eventually made a conscious decision that I needed to change. And when I go back to being an independent business owner again, I will be SO MUCH BETTER and WISER. And more successful.
I may get this job. I may not. Life will go on and I will eventually find something that suits me. It will all be okay. I know this.
As then there was confrontation. I get the chills just typing that word. There is nothing that makes me feel worse than a fight. I hate when people are mad at me. I even hate when people I hate are mad at me. I even hate when people I hate who are stupid idiots are mad at me, even when I know that they are stupid idiots. OY. Exhausting.
Recently, I have learned that confrontation and I are not friends because I conditioned myself to be an enabler. I enable bad behavior, rude treatment and pure insanity to avoid altercations. I spent years lying and over-promising to get out of necessary conversations and conflict, "You aren't treating me right...", "I feel what you are doing is unethical", "Why are you going behind my back when I can help you." I would have rather kept silent than be on any one's radar. This is not a good way to live life as an active participant.
Since I have moved, I have been working on this. If I can't do something for someone, I don't. If someone is trying to take their bad day out on me for something that isn't my fault, I ask them. If I make a mistake, I admit it and own it and find a solution rather than running away like I used to.
Confrontation isn't such a bad thing. I mean, without it, my favorite channel in the world, Bravo, would never exist. Their entire program lineup is just confrontation videotaped in different cites....
Monday, November 11, 2013
The Downfalls of Getting Older
I hope that I am aging gracefully.
I am pretty good about my sleep, diet (even with the binging I eat TONS of fruits and veggies), exercise and skin routine. I have started to get gray hairs (a few here and there) and even that I can handle.
What I cannot handle are my hangovers.
I am not a big drinker. Yes, I used to be a HUGE drinker. If I drank the amount I once did, I am sure I would have to be rushed to the ER to get my stomach pumped. I say this honestly, because once after too many shots of Captain Morgan when I was sixteen....this actually did happen.
The other night, Crush and I went out to supper with some of his old friends. We had a wonderful time enjoying some delicious and very overpriced Thai food in Charleston. This is a place that Chicago has Charleston beat....yummy and inexpensive Thai food. I get that it is supply and demand and Thai food is super popular here. The $20.00 pad woon sen was yummy nonetheless and I promised Crush even yummier Thai for a fraction of the price the next time we make it to the Windy City. He is excited, no one loves a deal more than my man.
Anyway, I had four drinks in a matter of six hours. 1 glass of wine, 2 glasses of champagne, and 1 vodka and soda water and I got DRUNK. Like, not sloppy, but definitely not cute. I was in a jolly mood. I did a really seductive sloppy strip tease for my man, rapped him a few 90's favorites including Candy Man (Knockin Boots) and then fell on my bed in a heap while the room spun. Hot. For the big finish, I started yelling "ATTACK!" and made a police siren noise, every time Crush tried to initiate physical contact with me.
I know know. I mixed drinks, so that was half the problem.
I woke up with a major hungover. URGH! I made it through a half ass workout and then I demanded that Crush get me pizza. It wasn't pretty.
Today, I am back on track after about fifteen hours of sleep yesterday. The reality is that things I could once do: drink ALL night, sleep three hours, work nine hours and then make it to the gym are WAY behind me.
It makes me sad, but I would rather be sleeping by 10:00 pm any night of the week. Now, I am catching up on all the things I needed to do yesterday before I allow myself get into bed early tonight.
Hope everyone had a great weekend and handled their booze better than I did.
I am pretty good about my sleep, diet (even with the binging I eat TONS of fruits and veggies), exercise and skin routine. I have started to get gray hairs (a few here and there) and even that I can handle.
What I cannot handle are my hangovers.
I am not a big drinker. Yes, I used to be a HUGE drinker. If I drank the amount I once did, I am sure I would have to be rushed to the ER to get my stomach pumped. I say this honestly, because once after too many shots of Captain Morgan when I was sixteen....this actually did happen.
The other night, Crush and I went out to supper with some of his old friends. We had a wonderful time enjoying some delicious and very overpriced Thai food in Charleston. This is a place that Chicago has Charleston beat....yummy and inexpensive Thai food. I get that it is supply and demand and Thai food is super popular here. The $20.00 pad woon sen was yummy nonetheless and I promised Crush even yummier Thai for a fraction of the price the next time we make it to the Windy City. He is excited, no one loves a deal more than my man.
Anyway, I had four drinks in a matter of six hours. 1 glass of wine, 2 glasses of champagne, and 1 vodka and soda water and I got DRUNK. Like, not sloppy, but definitely not cute. I was in a jolly mood. I did a really
I know know. I mixed drinks, so that was half the problem.
I woke up with a major hungover. URGH! I made it through a half ass workout and then I demanded that Crush get me pizza. It wasn't pretty.
Today, I am back on track after about fifteen hours of sleep yesterday. The reality is that things I could once do: drink ALL night, sleep three hours, work nine hours and then make it to the gym are WAY behind me.
It makes me sad, but I would rather be sleeping by 10:00 pm any night of the week. Now, I am catching up on all the things I needed to do yesterday before I allow myself get into bed early tonight.
Hope everyone had a great weekend and handled their booze better than I did.
Monday, September 9, 2013
I'm Back & 10 Things Including Some Big Reveals
I have been working tons for the last few weeks. I just finished my last work obligation here for a long while and I feel such relief. Sigh. I can breathe. I did a great job and I am proud of myself. I proved to myself that I could. I am the kind of person that always comes through when I am given the chance. But, when someone doubts me, I start to doubt myself and then I can spiral into a very bad place. My mom asked me last night, "why do you need your clients to love you?" and it made me think. I don't anymore. In the last few months, I realized that I cannot control the drama and emotional turmoil surrounding my job when it comes to a client's particular relationship with their family. Often, when I get blamed for things it is because of dysfunctional family relationships. I have started to step back from things ever so slightly and the results have been positive. The less I become invested in shit that isn't my business, the better.
Now, for a list of some updates including some big reveals about me:
1. I move in 10 days. I am beginning to pack today.
2. I have been doing really well using a calorie tracker. It is helping me with my hunger cues and knowing when I should stop eating if I do not want to gain weight. Most of my past eating was mindless and emotional, so becoming a bit more familiar with the science behind calories in and calories out actually comforts me (WeightWatchers was the only way I ever lost weight before and I never learned calories, only Points). I feel in control with food for the first time in over 3 years.
3. Big Baby turns three in 2 weeks. I cannot believe how fast time goes. Crush and I are planning to head up to visit Sissy and the family at the beginning of October, more to come on that below.
4. Crush is taking me to NYC to pick out my engagement ring. It is the real reason why we are heading up to see Sissy, but family trumps material things, so the visit comes first. He is familiar with a jeweler there and since he knows I am particular (I will admit, spoiled and obnoxious about this certain thing) he told me that he wants me to love whatever he gets me, so I can chose it. Also, he likes the idea of buying my ring in the city I was born in. I was born in Manhattan and lived on the East Coast for the first third of my life.
5. There was a very famous band at the wedding I planned this weekend. Oh yes, if you haven't figured it out, I am a wedding planner. They were SUPER nice and courteous and gentlemanly. Some of their wives are models and they were also very sweet. It made me think, if someone who has won Grammys can have common courtesy, then the people who treat me like shit when I am trying to help them, have no excuse.
6. I am moving to Charleston, South Carolina.
7. It is almost my 1 year anniversary of this blog.
8. I need to work on my resume, website, and get new business cards printed this week. I have been pushing this off until I finished my event this weekend. It is go time.
9. I am going to miss some of my friends here in Chicago more than I thought I would since I am just so excited about getting out of a place that has never been good for me. That is right, the Windy City is where I have spent most of life other than the first third and college. I started bawling yesterday thinking about them. I don't always do a great job letting people into my life, but when I love you, I do for life. This past year, I have made a few new friends that I know will be around forever and it is always comforting to know that friends come and go, but real friends, the ones that are in your heart, well, they stay with you forever.
10. My favorite client (EVER!) bought me a T3 SinglePass Whirl styling wand for a thank you gift after I mentioned I wanted one during a hair trial appointment. Life changing. I now have good hair days in less than 10 minutes. Just wear the glove it comes with. I have burned my hands (and cheek!) a few times trying to get the hang of it.
Hope all is well out there and I will be back to posting regularly this week!
Now, for a list of some updates including some big reveals about me:
1. I move in 10 days. I am beginning to pack today.
2. I have been doing really well using a calorie tracker. It is helping me with my hunger cues and knowing when I should stop eating if I do not want to gain weight. Most of my past eating was mindless and emotional, so becoming a bit more familiar with the science behind calories in and calories out actually comforts me (WeightWatchers was the only way I ever lost weight before and I never learned calories, only Points). I feel in control with food for the first time in over 3 years.
3. Big Baby turns three in 2 weeks. I cannot believe how fast time goes. Crush and I are planning to head up to visit Sissy and the family at the beginning of October, more to come on that below.
4. Crush is taking me to NYC to pick out my engagement ring. It is the real reason why we are heading up to see Sissy, but family trumps material things, so the visit comes first. He is familiar with a jeweler there and since he knows I am particular (I will admit, spoiled and obnoxious about this certain thing) he told me that he wants me to love whatever he gets me, so I can chose it. Also, he likes the idea of buying my ring in the city I was born in. I was born in Manhattan and lived on the East Coast for the first third of my life.
5. There was a very famous band at the wedding I planned this weekend. Oh yes, if you haven't figured it out, I am a wedding planner. They were SUPER nice and courteous and gentlemanly. Some of their wives are models and they were also very sweet. It made me think, if someone who has won Grammys can have common courtesy, then the people who treat me like shit when I am trying to help them, have no excuse.
6. I am moving to Charleston, South Carolina.
7. It is almost my 1 year anniversary of this blog.
8. I need to work on my resume, website, and get new business cards printed this week. I have been pushing this off until I finished my event this weekend. It is go time.
9. I am going to miss some of my friends here in Chicago more than I thought I would since I am just so excited about getting out of a place that has never been good for me. That is right, the Windy City is where I have spent most of life other than the first third and college. I started bawling yesterday thinking about them. I don't always do a great job letting people into my life, but when I love you, I do for life. This past year, I have made a few new friends that I know will be around forever and it is always comforting to know that friends come and go, but real friends, the ones that are in your heart, well, they stay with you forever.
10. My favorite client (EVER!) bought me a T3 SinglePass Whirl styling wand for a thank you gift after I mentioned I wanted one during a hair trial appointment. Life changing. I now have good hair days in less than 10 minutes. Just wear the glove it comes with. I have burned my hands (and cheek!) a few times trying to get the hang of it.
Hope all is well out there and I will be back to posting regularly this week!
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
I WANT I WANT I WANT
I am not a person that wants so much.
I drive an old car, I buy my purses and shoes from TJ Maxx (I have great luck there, but still, they are never the newest styles or super luxe), I don't follow trends much as I prefer classic clothes that fit well. I find chasing fads to be exhausting. It is something that Crush and I have in common, we prefer timeless things.
Yes, I LOVE my beauty products, but I try not to want so much. It is one of the reasons why even though I enjoy looking at Pinterest for inspiration and quotes, I avoid getting too involved in it because it is a pile of want and I find myself wanting more than I feel I should, whenever I log on.
I hate shopping. Not just because I currently hate my size, but because I feel like I have enough in my closet. I don't care about impressing people so much anymore or being considered sexy, so getting dressed is a simple act...boring. I did love wearing dresses when I was smaller and wonder if I will again when I reduce.
Yet, I want food. I want chips, candy, pizza, ice cream. I dream about what I want to stuff myself with even though I am getting to the point where my inner voices can designate a craving from the beginning of a binge. Gone are the destructive thoughts of, "today I will binge and tomorrow I will starve." Allowing myself to actually feel sad, bored, angry, tired, or scared and not just throw food at the uncomfortable emotion is an entirely new thing for me.
There is one thing I really want. I feel foolish even admitting it, but I want a big engagement ring. A huge one, to be completely honest. It actually upsets me. I wish I didn't care. I don't want to want something so badly. But, I do. And yet, I don't have the best idea why I want a big ring so much. This annoys me, I want to know why I feel this want deep inside of me.
Is it because I want to prove something to friends, family, and strangers?
It is because I feel like I have waited long enough and I deserve it?
It is because I know Crush can afford to get me something fantastic?
It is because my mom and sister both have stunning rings?
It is because I want a symbol of my love and my love is so big and bursting?
After much thinking, I speculate that my WANT of a big ring is because my hand is large (I am 5'10" after all with a size 8 ring finger) and when I tried on rings in the past with Awful, everything looked small on me. It made me feel very bad about myself, about my size. At one of the jewelry stores we visited, a saleslady told me, "A big lady like you needs a big rock. Anything less than (insert pretty large size stone) will look minuscule on you." I remember going home that night and crying in the shower. She validated my thoughts under those bright florescent jewelry store lights. The rings I tried just didn't work....it is the same feeling I get when I try on my favorite jeans and I can no longer slide them over my hips.
Why did something exciting and fun like trying on rings have to be about my stature, too?
Another reason is because in my family, there are a few pieces of jewelry that my mom inherited from her aunt that are fabulous. Big and sparkly. Classic. Sissy picked the most phenomenal stone out of the bunch to reset for her engagement ring and I have been given the matching band to wear as my wedding band. It is vintage and chock full of gleam and just my style. I love the idea that in the future, someone in my family will want my ring or at the very least my stone. I want one of my future family members to be proud to have something that belonged to me, something that symbolized my love with Crush, just like how I am so proud to be able to wear my great-aunt's wedding band someday. I know that if my ring is fab, there is a better chance someone will want it as is....at least that has been the case in my family when it comes to inherited jewelry.
And then, there is a last reason....one I wish I could escape. I feel like a big ring will validate me enough to continue with a healthy lifestyle. That something big will motivate me to stay on track, remind me of all the life there is to still live out there. I remember Sissy once telling me that her engagement ring reminded her that she was officially living for someone else, so after she got engaged (almost 5 years ago!), she felt it was easier to make better choices. I could see myself feeling this way, too.
I wish I didn't want.
I wish I could be happy with something small or even nothing at all.
Sometimes I hate how I feel, but I hate the feeling of lying to myself even more.
I drive an old car, I buy my purses and shoes from TJ Maxx (I have great luck there, but still, they are never the newest styles or super luxe), I don't follow trends much as I prefer classic clothes that fit well. I find chasing fads to be exhausting. It is something that Crush and I have in common, we prefer timeless things.
Yes, I LOVE my beauty products, but I try not to want so much. It is one of the reasons why even though I enjoy looking at Pinterest for inspiration and quotes, I avoid getting too involved in it because it is a pile of want and I find myself wanting more than I feel I should, whenever I log on.
I hate shopping. Not just because I currently hate my size, but because I feel like I have enough in my closet. I don't care about impressing people so much anymore or being considered sexy, so getting dressed is a simple act...boring. I did love wearing dresses when I was smaller and wonder if I will again when I reduce.
Yet, I want food. I want chips, candy, pizza, ice cream. I dream about what I want to stuff myself with even though I am getting to the point where my inner voices can designate a craving from the beginning of a binge. Gone are the destructive thoughts of, "today I will binge and tomorrow I will starve." Allowing myself to actually feel sad, bored, angry, tired, or scared and not just throw food at the uncomfortable emotion is an entirely new thing for me.
There is one thing I really want. I feel foolish even admitting it, but I want a big engagement ring. A huge one, to be completely honest. It actually upsets me. I wish I didn't care. I don't want to want something so badly. But, I do. And yet, I don't have the best idea why I want a big ring so much. This annoys me, I want to know why I feel this want deep inside of me.
Is it because I want to prove something to friends, family, and strangers?
It is because I feel like I have waited long enough and I deserve it?
It is because I know Crush can afford to get me something fantastic?
It is because my mom and sister both have stunning rings?
It is because I want a symbol of my love and my love is so big and bursting?
After much thinking, I speculate that my WANT of a big ring is because my hand is large (I am 5'10" after all with a size 8 ring finger) and when I tried on rings in the past with Awful, everything looked small on me. It made me feel very bad about myself, about my size. At one of the jewelry stores we visited, a saleslady told me, "A big lady like you needs a big rock. Anything less than (insert pretty large size stone) will look minuscule on you." I remember going home that night and crying in the shower. She validated my thoughts under those bright florescent jewelry store lights. The rings I tried just didn't work....it is the same feeling I get when I try on my favorite jeans and I can no longer slide them over my hips.
Why did something exciting and fun like trying on rings have to be about my stature, too?
Another reason is because in my family, there are a few pieces of jewelry that my mom inherited from her aunt that are fabulous. Big and sparkly. Classic. Sissy picked the most phenomenal stone out of the bunch to reset for her engagement ring and I have been given the matching band to wear as my wedding band. It is vintage and chock full of gleam and just my style. I love the idea that in the future, someone in my family will want my ring or at the very least my stone. I want one of my future family members to be proud to have something that belonged to me, something that symbolized my love with Crush, just like how I am so proud to be able to wear my great-aunt's wedding band someday. I know that if my ring is fab, there is a better chance someone will want it as is....at least that has been the case in my family when it comes to inherited jewelry.
And then, there is a last reason....one I wish I could escape. I feel like a big ring will validate me enough to continue with a healthy lifestyle. That something big will motivate me to stay on track, remind me of all the life there is to still live out there. I remember Sissy once telling me that her engagement ring reminded her that she was officially living for someone else, so after she got engaged (almost 5 years ago!), she felt it was easier to make better choices. I could see myself feeling this way, too.
I wish I didn't want.
I wish I could be happy with something small or even nothing at all.
Sometimes I hate how I feel, but I hate the feeling of lying to myself even more.
Monday, August 26, 2013
SCOOT Off!
I cannot believe I am getting so close to moving down South. All of a sudden this weekend, I really thought about it and I started freaking out. I had a mini anxiety attack prompted by 2 things, 1 involving a scooter:
1. Crush asked me what we would be doing for Thanksgiving and I thought THANKSGIVING!!!! I have so much to do before then and then I panicked....I seriously got into bed with some popcorn and Netflix and hid under the covers for a few hours. The thing is that I have NO idea what I will be doing for T-Day. I may have to work considering my new job could call for it (I worked Tday early on in my career when I worked at a hotel). Then, I realized that I won't be hanging out with my parents all of the time which is a beautiful thing, actually. I am just so used to them these days that I started to miss them already. Codependency at its finest and not normal. Never claimed I was. I have turned into a 32 year woman-child. It shocks me considering I was begging to go to overnight camp for 8 weeks when I was 9. I love my folks, but I did once stand on my own 2 feet....time to get out of the nest.
2. I saw Awful (I KNOW, I KNOW....I MUST leave this city ASAP as WHY OH WHY DO I KEEP SEEING MY EX?!?!?) riding a new scooter with a sidecar while I was taking a client to an appointment. The very scooter and sidecar that I once joked that I thought was awesome and silly and that I could ride in because I didn't love riding on a scooter (more to come on that here in the following sentences). Bonus, his fiance was riding my old scooter. A scooter that Awful bought me for Hanukkah our second holiday season together. A scooter I was never fully invested in myself because it scared me and because my parents didn't approve.
I know, I know, I defer to my parents sometimes, but hear me out. My mom got into a motorcycle accident on her honeymoon and broke both of her legs, shattered her knees, and broke her right hip. It left her disabled (she has had arthritis since she was a little girl, so it made her bad legs worse) and all of my life, my parents asked that I never ride a motored 2 wheeled vehicle and I obeyed them until I met Awful...a man OBSESSED with things that go fast and have less than 4 wheels.
I always felt that Awful wanted to sway me against my parents and take "his side" when it came to the motorcycle and scooter riding. I know it sounds silly, but he was very jealous like that. He wanted to control me and knew that I also wanted to make my parents happy, so it was a really messed up triangle. He didn't like when I saw my folks, spoke to them, or took their feelings into account. It was all sorts of CRAZY considering that he couldn't have been further up either of his parents asses and saw them almost weekly (and they lived over 3 hours away and spent the night at his place at least 1 weekend a month). He spoke to his mother multiple times a day, so it wasn't like he was this strong independent man free of parental control. It was just that he thought he was always right and his way was "the way."
When I sensed he may be buying me a scooter, I remember telling him "as much as it seems fun and I like how they look (they are so cute!), I really can't do that to my parents." 2 weeks later, there was a shiny (and adorable!!!) red scooter waiting for me when I returned home from work one freezing December evening. I remember thinking "FUCK!!!!! I love this, but I can't ride it...." I felt super conflicted. The scooter is the perfect metaphor of our relationship....this love/hate - push/pull.
I am annoyed that he found someone to scoot with. I know finding a scooter partner must have been important to him. When I first started dating Awful, he was very caught up in all of the things his ex-wife wouldn't or couldn't do. I am sure he tells his fiancé about all about my shortcomings (from his perspective and only according to him), too. "You wouldn't believe Ready and Fading! She wouldn't even ride the $5,000 scooter I bought her because her mom once fell off of one. What a baby, she is so weak." (SIDENOTE: Awful loved to add value on to things to exaggerate, the scooter was about 3 grand and as I shared earlier, my mom's accident wasn't minor.)
I am just sad (and in many ways, amused.....) that she has to ride my Hanukkah present from 2010. I am sure that she has no idea that it was mine first, he isn't a truth teller.......but, there was a slight twinge of satisfaction as I saw her wobbling by on it. The truth is that as gorgeous as the scooter was, it was a bitch to ride and very heavy for a girl to master. Not surprising since he bought it for himself, really. He loved riding it and when I dumped him the first thing he screamed was, "YOU CANNOT HAVE THE SCOOTER, IT IS MINE!!!!"
SO WHY DOES THIS PISS ME OFF? Well, because on a beautiful Sunday I am working and he is having fun scooting. I guess I realize that I don't want him to be happy, really. I know, big confession there. I want him to be fat, miserable, weak, and alone. I want bad for him as much as I want good for me.
I just want to be able to enjoy my life without having to see him. Seeing him brings back so much pain for me. There is no love there, but there is still a burning hate. I want to be over it all. I want the past to be all in the past as I know it is, BUT I hate seeing him ALL OF THE TIME!
I can't wait to leave this place! A city where THE WORST EX-BOYFRIENDS EVER are out on the town, riding Stellas and killing my mood.
A few more short weeks and I will never be haunted by the real life ghost of Awful.
That in itself is worth passing up on all of the adorable scooters in the world.
1. Crush asked me what we would be doing for Thanksgiving and I thought THANKSGIVING!!!! I have so much to do before then and then I panicked....I seriously got into bed with some popcorn and Netflix and hid under the covers for a few hours. The thing is that I have NO idea what I will be doing for T-Day. I may have to work considering my new job could call for it (I worked Tday early on in my career when I worked at a hotel). Then, I realized that I won't be hanging out with my parents all of the time which is a beautiful thing, actually. I am just so used to them these days that I started to miss them already. Codependency at its finest and not normal. Never claimed I was. I have turned into a 32 year woman-child. It shocks me considering I was begging to go to overnight camp for 8 weeks when I was 9. I love my folks, but I did once stand on my own 2 feet....time to get out of the nest.
2. I saw Awful (I KNOW, I KNOW....I MUST leave this city ASAP as WHY OH WHY DO I KEEP SEEING MY EX?!?!?) riding a new scooter with a sidecar while I was taking a client to an appointment. The very scooter and sidecar that I once joked that I thought was awesome and silly and that I could ride in because I didn't love riding on a scooter (more to come on that here in the following sentences). Bonus, his fiance was riding my old scooter. A scooter that Awful bought me for Hanukkah our second holiday season together. A scooter I was never fully invested in myself because it scared me and because my parents didn't approve.
I know, I know, I defer to my parents sometimes, but hear me out. My mom got into a motorcycle accident on her honeymoon and broke both of her legs, shattered her knees, and broke her right hip. It left her disabled (she has had arthritis since she was a little girl, so it made her bad legs worse) and all of my life, my parents asked that I never ride a motored 2 wheeled vehicle and I obeyed them until I met Awful...a man OBSESSED with things that go fast and have less than 4 wheels.
I always felt that Awful wanted to sway me against my parents and take "his side" when it came to the motorcycle and scooter riding. I know it sounds silly, but he was very jealous like that. He wanted to control me and knew that I also wanted to make my parents happy, so it was a really messed up triangle. He didn't like when I saw my folks, spoke to them, or took their feelings into account. It was all sorts of CRAZY considering that he couldn't have been further up either of his parents asses and saw them almost weekly (and they lived over 3 hours away and spent the night at his place at least 1 weekend a month). He spoke to his mother multiple times a day, so it wasn't like he was this strong independent man free of parental control. It was just that he thought he was always right and his way was "the way."
When I sensed he may be buying me a scooter, I remember telling him "as much as it seems fun and I like how they look (they are so cute!), I really can't do that to my parents." 2 weeks later, there was a shiny (and adorable!!!) red scooter waiting for me when I returned home from work one freezing December evening. I remember thinking "FUCK!!!!! I love this, but I can't ride it...." I felt super conflicted. The scooter is the perfect metaphor of our relationship....this love/hate - push/pull.
I am annoyed that he found someone to scoot with. I know finding a scooter partner must have been important to him. When I first started dating Awful, he was very caught up in all of the things his ex-wife wouldn't or couldn't do. I am sure he tells his fiancé about all about my shortcomings (from his perspective and only according to him), too. "You wouldn't believe Ready and Fading! She wouldn't even ride the $5,000 scooter I bought her because her mom once fell off of one. What a baby, she is so weak." (SIDENOTE: Awful loved to add value on to things to exaggerate, the scooter was about 3 grand and as I shared earlier, my mom's accident wasn't minor.)
I am just sad (and in many ways, amused.....) that she has to ride my Hanukkah present from 2010. I am sure that she has no idea that it was mine first, he isn't a truth teller.......but, there was a slight twinge of satisfaction as I saw her wobbling by on it. The truth is that as gorgeous as the scooter was, it was a bitch to ride and very heavy for a girl to master. Not surprising since he bought it for himself, really. He loved riding it and when I dumped him the first thing he screamed was, "YOU CANNOT HAVE THE SCOOTER, IT IS MINE!!!!"
SO WHY DOES THIS PISS ME OFF? Well, because on a beautiful Sunday I am working and he is having fun scooting. I guess I realize that I don't want him to be happy, really. I know, big confession there. I want him to be fat, miserable, weak, and alone. I want bad for him as much as I want good for me.
I just want to be able to enjoy my life without having to see him. Seeing him brings back so much pain for me. There is no love there, but there is still a burning hate. I want to be over it all. I want the past to be all in the past as I know it is, BUT I hate seeing him ALL OF THE TIME!
I can't wait to leave this place! A city where THE WORST EX-BOYFRIENDS EVER are out on the town, riding Stellas and killing my mood.
A few more short weeks and I will never be haunted by the real life ghost of Awful.
That in itself is worth passing up on all of the adorable scooters in the world.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Not Meant To Be AND Meant To Be
Not Meant To Be: Crush and I did not make it to Memphis. OY! SO BUMMED! I am going through a work issue that is a bit out of my control and I needed to stay in town to help my dear client (and someone I personally adore) with it. Sometimes Too much of the time, my job requires me to put my own personal life totally aside in order to help people with their personal lives. It is beyond consuming and one of the reasons I will be hanging up my hat doing this job full-time (I will always do it part-time as a part of me is very connected to it) for a while. Excited to rejoin the corporate world. I want my balance back and I have recently learned just how badly I need to work on defining my personal boundaries.
Crush was crushed about Memphis, but he totally understood and supports me. He knows that I gave him a ton of my focus and time this past year (which led to a few of my firings....going out of town often was the direct culprit) and that I need to finish work here with an absolute bang! Then, all of a sudden, there was a very unexpected death in his family and he wouldn't have been able to go himself anyway. It was a sign. I just don't think Memphis is meant to be for us for now.....we have tried twice and haven't made it, so we decided that Savannah is the next city that we will visit together for a quick weekend trip. Bonus that it is driving distance from my new apartment.
Meant To Be: I will be in my new city in less than 30 days. My awesome parents are joining me on my drive cross country, as retirees they have the time and I am honored to have them for the first leg of my journey. Crush told me that he wants to speak to my Dad in person once we arrive and is hoping that they can spend some time together alone for lunch, made it clear that it would just be the two of them. Eeeeeeeeekkkkkkkkk! I know my boyfriend and I know that he is very inclusive......I have my suspicions that he is going to ask my Dad for my hand in marriage like the good ole' Southern boy he is and I AM OVER THE MOON EXCITED! Cross those fingers!
In an odd coincidence, my very first weekend down South, the same weekend I believe my hand may be given to Crush forever......
Awful Ex-Boyfriend will be married for the second time just slightly North of the US border.
Life goes on.
Crush was crushed about Memphis, but he totally understood and supports me. He knows that I gave him a ton of my focus and time this past year (which led to a few of my firings....going out of town often was the direct culprit) and that I need to finish work here with an absolute bang! Then, all of a sudden, there was a very unexpected death in his family and he wouldn't have been able to go himself anyway. It was a sign. I just don't think Memphis is meant to be for us for now.....we have tried twice and haven't made it, so we decided that Savannah is the next city that we will visit together for a quick weekend trip. Bonus that it is driving distance from my new apartment.
Meant To Be: I will be in my new city in less than 30 days. My awesome parents are joining me on my drive cross country, as retirees they have the time and I am honored to have them for the first leg of my journey. Crush told me that he wants to speak to my Dad in person once we arrive and is hoping that they can spend some time together alone for lunch, made it clear that it would just be the two of them. Eeeeeeeeekkkkkkkkk! I know my boyfriend and I know that he is very inclusive......I have my suspicions that he is going to ask my Dad for my hand in marriage like the good ole' Southern boy he is and I AM OVER THE MOON EXCITED! Cross those fingers!
In an odd coincidence, my very first weekend down South, the same weekend I believe my hand may be given to Crush forever......
Awful Ex-Boyfriend will be married for the second time just slightly North of the US border.
Life goes on.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Bragger
I used to be a bragger. Correction. I used to be a liar.
Exaggerations just fell out of my mouth. I seriously did not know what I was talking about half the time.
Since I was drunk half the time, perhaps it was the vodka talking.
Sorry to anyone on the receiving end of my nonsense.
A few weeks ago, a dear friend of mine was in town from the West coast and we chatted a bit about the idea of bragging over our spicy California rolls (YUM!).
My friend is in a serious relationship with a wonderful and established man (I finally met him after lunch and he is just as dreamy and sweet as I thought he would be) and they happen to have a very nice life together.
My friend lives in a fabulous city, takes amazing trips, goes to the opera, the symphony, and out to fancy suppers. Her man friend owns a few properties, including a vacation home and they enjoy their weekends in the country when they aren't working too hard at a very large and well known company.
My friend mentioned that sometimes it is difficult to catch up with old friends (she was back in town for a brief visit) without sounding braggy, but I totally understand what she is saying. I do not consider her stories to be bragging, it just happens to be what is going on currently in her life. The truth. Her reality.
Before you throw rocks and sticks at me, I will admit, that my life with Crush is also a bit braggy. He comes from a very established place and there are no shortage of fancy parties, nice suppers, and multiple residents to visit. But, if he lived in a box, I would still date him. I didn't know about all this until a few months after we started dating and he was very protective of his life and what he shared with me initially. I was already in love with him by the time I found out about any spoils. He holds his cards close.
When I meet up with certain people, I find myself censoring my stories. Instead of explaining that I was at a fancy party, I may just leave huge chunks out. The old me would have poured on and on about it, but with some age has come some rather recent humility. And, I am still working on it. I notice that I can brag without realizing it because old habits die hard.
Being humble is still something I am getting the hang of. Especially in our society where I do feel like bragging is part of the territory if you are active on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram. It is hard to not feel compelled to share the best parts of your life and leave out the less glamorous ones.
I am also a lot more private now, so I don't even like sharing ALL of the details of my life like I used to in daily conversations. That is what blogging is for!!!!
Since I am hyper paranoid about what other people think of me, I worry about this sort of thing more than I should. I worry about everything more than I should......
I know I can come across as obnoxious as a veil for my insecurity. I get this.
I don't want to be know as Miss Braggy Pants in my new town. Where I am going being humble is expected regardless of the situation.
I am practicing.
Exaggerations just fell out of my mouth. I seriously did not know what I was talking about half the time.
Since I was drunk half the time, perhaps it was the vodka talking.
Sorry to anyone on the receiving end of my nonsense.
A few weeks ago, a dear friend of mine was in town from the West coast and we chatted a bit about the idea of bragging over our spicy California rolls (YUM!).
My friend is in a serious relationship with a wonderful and established man (I finally met him after lunch and he is just as dreamy and sweet as I thought he would be) and they happen to have a very nice life together.
My friend lives in a fabulous city, takes amazing trips, goes to the opera, the symphony, and out to fancy suppers. Her man friend owns a few properties, including a vacation home and they enjoy their weekends in the country when they aren't working too hard at a very large and well known company.
My friend mentioned that sometimes it is difficult to catch up with old friends (she was back in town for a brief visit) without sounding braggy, but I totally understand what she is saying. I do not consider her stories to be bragging, it just happens to be what is going on currently in her life. The truth. Her reality.
Before you throw rocks and sticks at me, I will admit, that my life with Crush is also a bit braggy. He comes from a very established place and there are no shortage of fancy parties, nice suppers, and multiple residents to visit. But, if he lived in a box, I would still date him. I didn't know about all this until a few months after we started dating and he was very protective of his life and what he shared with me initially. I was already in love with him by the time I found out about any spoils. He holds his cards close.
When I meet up with certain people, I find myself censoring my stories. Instead of explaining that I was at a fancy party, I may just leave huge chunks out. The old me would have poured on and on about it, but with some age has come some rather recent humility. And, I am still working on it. I notice that I can brag without realizing it because old habits die hard.
Being humble is still something I am getting the hang of. Especially in our society where I do feel like bragging is part of the territory if you are active on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram. It is hard to not feel compelled to share the best parts of your life and leave out the less glamorous ones.
I am also a lot more private now, so I don't even like sharing ALL of the details of my life like I used to in daily conversations. That is what blogging is for!!!!
Since I am hyper paranoid about what other people think of me, I worry about this sort of thing more than I should. I worry about everything more than I should......
I know I can come across as obnoxious as a veil for my insecurity. I get this.
I don't want to be know as Miss Braggy Pants in my new town. Where I am going being humble is expected regardless of the situation.
I am practicing.
Monday, July 29, 2013
One Last Post About This....I Promise..but, Awful is ENGAGED!
I feel so childish even admitting this all and writing this post, but I can't deny my feelings. Here goes....
Since I am not on Facebook and I no one wanted to tell me the news, I am the LAST to know that Awful is engaged.
He got engaged a few months ago.
I am glad I did not have to process it in real time.
I was told about it in the midst of working and I didn't allow myself to think it through fully just in case I became too upset to pass it off as happy tears. Work comes first. Especially with my move coming. Good current recommendations have been ample these last few weeks. WHOOT! I am hitting my stride again. I am proud of myself for getting back up after I was a bit beat down.
I mulled over the development silently all day yesterday, but I did share the news with Sissy and my parents. My father (who likes Awful as a person, but hated him as my boyfriend) was beyond happy....."This news just made my day, now he is officially gone!" and then he literally skipped around......I actually share many of the same feelings as my Dad.
I gave myself permission to cry, but no tears ever came.
My friend who told me and is still connected to him through her husband says he asks about me all the time. Lately, I been thinking about him a lot, too. Our relationship really didn't have an end. I told him to leave me alone and he did. He he bad and dark, but this last year, I have seen so much worse than him. There is still some goodness in him. It was there when I dated him and it hasn't gone away.
I hate him most for not wanting to marry me for not wanting to let me go either.
Awful was married for less than 2 years before we ever met. He got engaged to his ex-wife less than 8 months after they met. He was adamant that he couldn't propose to me until we really knew each other because he proposed to his ex-wife so soon. He openly shared this with my family, my friends. He would tell me, "I just can't make another mistake and marry so soon, I didn't even know my ex-wife and then I was legally bound to her....."
Well, I figured he had a girlfriend, but a fiancé......?!?!?!?! He has been dating his fiance less time than I have been dating Crush....I think 7-8 months and he will be married in September. Yes, THIS September. I wonder if it is her second wedding, too. Just a few months to plan a wedding makes me think it will be a small affair.
There is a part of me that feels that she could be pregnant. There is another part of me that thinks that he is afraid of being alone..."abandoned" as he calls it, so he jumped and put a ring on it quickly, to make sure he won't be left again.
If there is one thing that Awful hates, it is being alone.
I knew this and it is one of the reasons I jumped shipped, moved out in the middle of the day without warning when I broke up with him. Every other time I tried, he made me stay. I couldn't escape his pull when he was there, so I needed to do it by myself and for myself.
Most of all, I am feeling a bit rejected. Yes, I dumped him. Yes, I hate him. Yes, I have a wonderful boyfriend. I know this all seems silly and stupid and very entitled to even care, but the truth is that it still hurts to know that he needed two plus years with me to "figure it out" and he can propose to someone new and get married in less than a year. I pains me to know that he loves someone so much more than he ever loved me. Even though I am living this now with Crush, so I get it.
I am embarrassed. That's it. He fits better with his new gal. We were a bad match. I know this. Even though it is impossible and I am being junior high........I just want everyone to love me. Adore me. I am pathetic sometimes.
I get that I have a wonderful relationship with Crush and I may be engaged soon. It worked out for all of us. Crush and I think that Crush's ex may be engaged, too. Happy endings for everyone.
Did I secretly wish that I would be married first? Sure I did. I am competitive and stupid once in a while.
True love isn't a race. I know this.
I have been avoiding Awful like the plague, missing parties and events I fear he could be at, skipping restaurants and places we shared that I introduced him to. Now, I feel safe again. His engagement protects me. I can visit some significant places that I love and not worry too much about seeing him. Clearly, he is doing fine and has moved way way way on.
The last time Awful and I corresponded was over a year ago.
He was single.
Now, he will be married in a few weeks.
Things can change so fast.
Since I am not on Facebook and I no one wanted to tell me the news, I am the LAST to know that Awful is engaged.
He got engaged a few months ago.
I am glad I did not have to process it in real time.
I was told about it in the midst of working and I didn't allow myself to think it through fully just in case I became too upset to pass it off as happy tears. Work comes first. Especially with my move coming. Good current recommendations have been ample these last few weeks. WHOOT! I am hitting my stride again. I am proud of myself for getting back up after I was a bit beat down.
I mulled over the development silently all day yesterday, but I did share the news with Sissy and my parents. My father (who likes Awful as a person, but hated him as my boyfriend) was beyond happy....."This news just made my day, now he is officially gone!" and then he literally skipped around......I actually share many of the same feelings as my Dad.
I gave myself permission to cry, but no tears ever came.
My friend who told me and is still connected to him through her husband says he asks about me all the time. Lately, I been thinking about him a lot, too. Our relationship really didn't have an end. I told him to leave me alone and he did. He he bad and dark, but this last year, I have seen so much worse than him. There is still some goodness in him. It was there when I dated him and it hasn't gone away.
I hate him most for not wanting to marry me for not wanting to let me go either.
Awful was married for less than 2 years before we ever met. He got engaged to his ex-wife less than 8 months after they met. He was adamant that he couldn't propose to me until we really knew each other because he proposed to his ex-wife so soon. He openly shared this with my family, my friends. He would tell me, "I just can't make another mistake and marry so soon, I didn't even know my ex-wife and then I was legally bound to her....."
Well, I figured he had a girlfriend, but a fiancé......?!?!?!?! He has been dating his fiance less time than I have been dating Crush....I think 7-8 months and he will be married in September. Yes, THIS September. I wonder if it is her second wedding, too. Just a few months to plan a wedding makes me think it will be a small affair.
There is a part of me that feels that she could be pregnant. There is another part of me that thinks that he is afraid of being alone..."abandoned" as he calls it, so he jumped and put a ring on it quickly, to make sure he won't be left again.
If there is one thing that Awful hates, it is being alone.
I knew this and it is one of the reasons I jumped shipped, moved out in the middle of the day without warning when I broke up with him. Every other time I tried, he made me stay. I couldn't escape his pull when he was there, so I needed to do it by myself and for myself.
Most of all, I am feeling a bit rejected. Yes, I dumped him. Yes, I hate him. Yes, I have a wonderful boyfriend. I know this all seems silly and stupid and very entitled to even care, but the truth is that it still hurts to know that he needed two plus years with me to "figure it out" and he can propose to someone new and get married in less than a year. I pains me to know that he loves someone so much more than he ever loved me. Even though I am living this now with Crush, so I get it.
I am embarrassed. That's it. He fits better with his new gal. We were a bad match. I know this. Even though it is impossible and I am being junior high........I just want everyone to love me. Adore me. I am pathetic sometimes.
I get that I have a wonderful relationship with Crush and I may be engaged soon. It worked out for all of us. Crush and I think that Crush's ex may be engaged, too. Happy endings for everyone.
Did I secretly wish that I would be married first? Sure I did. I am competitive and stupid once in a while.
True love isn't a race. I know this.
I have been avoiding Awful like the plague, missing parties and events I fear he could be at, skipping restaurants and places we shared that I introduced him to. Now, I feel safe again. His engagement protects me. I can visit some significant places that I love and not worry too much about seeing him. Clearly, he is doing fine and has moved way way way on.
The last time Awful and I corresponded was over a year ago.
He was single.
Now, he will be married in a few weeks.
Things can change so fast.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Clean and Dirty
Sometimes I wonder how lucky I am to still be alive.
I was never really into hard drugs, but I did a bunch of stupid shit in my life. I loved getting wasted, I made moronic decisions and I took insane risks.
For some reason, I am SUPER sad about the recent passing of Finn from Glee. I only watched the first season before I tired of it, but he seemed kind and reminded me of a boy in high school I once crushed on so super bad. I made him out to be this pure person without knowing anything about his personal non-Glee life.
Heroin terrifies me. I just don't get it, but I have never tried it. I have seen Intervention and Trainspotting and sitting on a bare mattress with your eyes all rolled back in your head drooling while you pee and vomit and poop yourself. Not sexy.
If we want to glorify a drug, let's dump an eight ball of coke on the table and snort it up before we dance on the table with our high heels on.
In a past life, I loved smoking pot. I am better stoned than drunk. I get silly, I tell stories, I love listening to music. I am actually good high company. Trust me. I also get the munchies super bad, so it isn't something I would partake in so much these days in light of my food issues. Oh yeah, I also have no brain cells or memory left to spare from all of my years of living thehigh good life.
Crush is pure. He isn't much of the party pants. He can count the times he has been really drunk on 2 hands. He has never smoked pot and I respect him. Hell, I was always susceptible to peer pressure because I wanted to escape from myself and fit in. I give him great credit for being able to be himself, unaltered.
But, Crush is DIRTY. Dirty in bed and dirty in life.
The dirty in life gets to me much worse than the other kind of dirty.
Crush lives in a way that is disgusting to me. Messy. Shit everywhere. His white t's have a brown tint from the way he washes them. His toilet reminded me of the grossest bathroom in America which just so happens to be at a bar at my alma mater. The icing on the gross cake was him telling me that he hasn't washed his bed sheets or towels in months when I asked him. And yes, I knew the answer before I inquired as everything in his place smelled a little sour, like a frat house.
I have never stayed at his place because filth like his gives me the creepy crawly willies. IT MAKES ME HAVE NIGHTMARES.
Yet, I was once SO DIRTY. Like when I think back on how I used to live in college and my early 20's, I gag. Yes, I just gagged. I was so super disgusting that I was almost equal to Crush. I should have saved my rent money because I could have lived in a dumpster with my former standard of cleanliness.
I used to admire my friends for being able to live so neatly. It didn't come easily to me and then one day I woke up and I was living alone and had some space and my own closets and the OCD set it. Clean as a whistle.
If Crush will let me, I will help him clean out his place little by little before we ever move in together. It isn't exactly Hoarders bad, but it is FAR from good.
I may call College Hunks Hauling Junk to help Crush reduce his mess.
I will have me some dirty thoughts of my own while we get clean.
I was never really into hard drugs, but I did a bunch of stupid shit in my life. I loved getting wasted, I made moronic decisions and I took insane risks.
For some reason, I am SUPER sad about the recent passing of Finn from Glee. I only watched the first season before I tired of it, but he seemed kind and reminded me of a boy in high school I once crushed on so super bad. I made him out to be this pure person without knowing anything about his personal non-Glee life.
Heroin terrifies me. I just don't get it, but I have never tried it. I have seen Intervention and Trainspotting and sitting on a bare mattress with your eyes all rolled back in your head drooling while you pee and vomit and poop yourself. Not sexy.
If we want to glorify a drug, let's dump an eight ball of coke on the table and snort it up before we dance on the table with our high heels on.
In a past life, I loved smoking pot. I am better stoned than drunk. I get silly, I tell stories, I love listening to music. I am actually good high company. Trust me. I also get the munchies super bad, so it isn't something I would partake in so much these days in light of my food issues. Oh yeah, I also have no brain cells or memory left to spare from all of my years of living the
Crush is pure. He isn't much of the party pants. He can count the times he has been really drunk on 2 hands. He has never smoked pot and I respect him. Hell, I was always susceptible to peer pressure because I wanted to escape from myself and fit in. I give him great credit for being able to be himself, unaltered.
But, Crush is DIRTY. Dirty in bed and dirty in life.
The dirty in life gets to me much worse than the other kind of dirty.
Crush lives in a way that is disgusting to me. Messy. Shit everywhere. His white t's have a brown tint from the way he washes them. His toilet reminded me of the grossest bathroom in America which just so happens to be at a bar at my alma mater. The icing on the gross cake was him telling me that he hasn't washed his bed sheets or towels in months when I asked him. And yes, I knew the answer before I inquired as everything in his place smelled a little sour, like a frat house.
I have never stayed at his place because filth like his gives me the creepy crawly willies. IT MAKES ME HAVE NIGHTMARES.
Yet, I was once SO DIRTY. Like when I think back on how I used to live in college and my early 20's, I gag. Yes, I just gagged. I was so super disgusting that I was almost equal to Crush. I should have saved my rent money because I could have lived in a dumpster with my former standard of cleanliness.
I used to admire my friends for being able to live so neatly. It didn't come easily to me and then one day I woke up and I was living alone and had some space and my own closets and the OCD set it. Clean as a whistle.
If Crush will let me, I will help him clean out his place little by little before we ever move in together. It isn't exactly Hoarders bad, but it is FAR from good.
I may call College Hunks Hauling Junk to help Crush reduce his mess.
I will have me some dirty thoughts of my own while we get clean.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Working It All Out
Crush and I are doing a bunch better lately.
For a while there it was fight fight fight at all costs (Ani Difranco reference for any fans out there....I love her). We just couldn't get on the same page. Much of the drama and tension were coming from a big issue that needed attention, Crush's processing issue.
Crush is now getting help. I am SUPER proud of him. I see a huge difference and he is taking the steps necessary to make himself a better communicator. In turn, our friendship and relationship have improved and I am feeling safe again in our little boat. For a while there, we were in the middle of a brewing dating hurricane.
Crush's mind works a bit different than mine. He is a big dreamer. He swept me right off my feet with his grand gestures and big ideas.
A few months ago, I realized that we had a problem.
I was observing this pattern of huge promises (which I do believe he is capable of doing and which I do believe WILL happen) in unrealistic time frames.
I had to take note of it for a while because I couldn't tell if this sense of utter urgency and then total slacking was coming from entitlement or something in his brain..As I have mentioned it before, we don't come from the same background, so with money and stability comes the ability to do things quickly that some would have to plan months or years for. Translation = something sparkly isn't something Crush has to necessarily save for (even though I know he is currently saving because he is wonderful with investing and all that stuff that sounds just like when adults talk in Snoopy when you tell me..."wahwahwahwah").
After a few weeks of utter frustration waiting to hear about all of these things he was "still working on and trying to figure out", I lost my composure and went rather postal.
I screamed, "don't say it unless you mean it because I take your word for it!"
This was in response to many little open ended things and one big huge gigantic major one....
Around Valentine's Day, Crush had told me that he had started to investigate engagement rings and didn't know if he could wait until I moved to propose to me.
The man didn't think about anything past that. There is no ring and it won't be on my finger in the next 2 months. I know this for a fact. I know that I am 32 years young and I am feeling like I am in a pressure cooker trying to lock it down.
I do feel that when I get my ring, I can breathe. Love has NEVER felt like this before, but I have been here. In a place I felt would end in marriage and it didn't. So....well, I don't like the gray zone. Waiting for someone to ask you to to be their wife....well, it FUCKING sucks! I am sorry, it does. It feels so very uncomfortable for a control freak such as myself. As happy as some aspects of my life are with Crush, this part of the relationship....the fine line I am walking by clearly outlining my expectations without giving ultimatums....well, I wish I could say it is fun, but then I would be lying. BECAUSE IT IS TOTURE!!!!!!
I know. I am being annoying right now. I sound like a whiny bitch. I get it. Panting for a ring is just CRAZY and yet it is a thing. When you love someone so much that you want to spend every waking second with them, it would be nice to be able to know that it will be forever today. I don't think a ring will change anything in my life aside from the ability to feel a bit calmer.
Instant gratification? Why yes, and if I didn't have an issue with it, I wouldn't need to lose 30 pounds still.
I was fantasizing. I suck this way. I love me a dream sequence. Hell, I imagine myself a 19 year old music video vixen when I bust out my daily mileage on the spin bike.
I will admit, I was dreaming of driving cross country to my new home with something lovely to admire on my left hand. What a fairy-tale it could have been to have met my soul mate AND become engaged in less than 1 year? It would have been like the end of some Rom Com.....me driving my sedan pointed South, laughing with my long hair blowing, admiring my shiny new friend.
And, since Sissy got engaged to her hubby less than 8 months from the day they first met, it gave me hope....I am the WORST comparer I know.
There is nothing quite like the feeling of the hardwood floor when it smacks you right in the face after the rug has been pulled out from under you. Wakeup call. Because as June curled into July, I realized that a ring wasn't happening this summer. I am okay with this once I myself processed it.
Crush has spoken to my parents about his intentions and I truly believe that I will be a Mrs. To Be in the nearer future. I actually want to live in the same city as Crush together for a few months before an engagement because I want a little peace to just enjoy life without planning . We need some more casual just us time. Time to watch TV, ride bikes, stroll the cobblestone streets, get ice cream, and eat homemade (by me, he barely knows how to open a can) weeknight suppers. I LOVE TO COOK, so I actually dusted off my cookbooks and marked some pages of recipes I know he will like this past week in anticipation of my move.
Love isn't easy. I know....trite trite trite. By even when you find the one, it doesn't all magically get better. I still have anxiety, I still have fears, I still feel like it may not end the way I want it to. I remember once talking to Sissy about this when she was a bit overwhelmed herself with being pregnant so soon after she was married so soon after she met her love. She told me one of the best pieces of advice, "with every great life transition comes excitement, uncertainty, and a little bit of an adjustment period." So true.
I have been disappointed before. I have felt the pain and loss of a broken heart. I am fairly confidant that Crush and I are meant to be a we.
We shall see.
For a while there it was fight fight fight at all costs (Ani Difranco reference for any fans out there....I love her). We just couldn't get on the same page. Much of the drama and tension were coming from a big issue that needed attention, Crush's processing issue.
Crush is now getting help. I am SUPER proud of him. I see a huge difference and he is taking the steps necessary to make himself a better communicator. In turn, our friendship and relationship have improved and I am feeling safe again in our little boat. For a while there, we were in the middle of a brewing dating hurricane.
Crush's mind works a bit different than mine. He is a big dreamer. He swept me right off my feet with his grand gestures and big ideas.
A few months ago, I realized that we had a problem.
I was observing this pattern of huge promises (which I do believe he is capable of doing and which I do believe WILL happen) in unrealistic time frames.
I had to take note of it for a while because I couldn't tell if this sense of utter urgency and then total slacking was coming from entitlement or something in his brain..As I have mentioned it before, we don't come from the same background, so with money and stability comes the ability to do things quickly that some would have to plan months or years for. Translation = something sparkly isn't something Crush has to necessarily save for (even though I know he is currently saving because he is wonderful with investing and all that stuff that sounds just like when adults talk in Snoopy when you tell me..."wahwahwahwah").
After a few weeks of utter frustration waiting to hear about all of these things he was "still working on and trying to figure out", I lost my composure and went rather postal.
I screamed, "don't say it unless you mean it because I take your word for it!"
This was in response to many little open ended things and one big huge gigantic major one....
Around Valentine's Day, Crush had told me that he had started to investigate engagement rings and didn't know if he could wait until I moved to propose to me.
The man didn't think about anything past that. There is no ring and it won't be on my finger in the next 2 months. I know this for a fact. I know that I am 32 years young and I am feeling like I am in a pressure cooker trying to lock it down.
I do feel that when I get my ring, I can breathe. Love has NEVER felt like this before, but I have been here. In a place I felt would end in marriage and it didn't. So....well, I don't like the gray zone. Waiting for someone to ask you to to be their wife....well, it FUCKING sucks! I am sorry, it does. It feels so very uncomfortable for a control freak such as myself. As happy as some aspects of my life are with Crush, this part of the relationship....the fine line I am walking by clearly outlining my expectations without giving ultimatums....well, I wish I could say it is fun, but then I would be lying. BECAUSE IT IS TOTURE!!!!!!
I know. I am being annoying right now. I sound like a whiny bitch. I get it. Panting for a ring is just CRAZY and yet it is a thing. When you love someone so much that you want to spend every waking second with them, it would be nice to be able to know that it will be forever today. I don't think a ring will change anything in my life aside from the ability to feel a bit calmer.
Instant gratification? Why yes, and if I didn't have an issue with it, I wouldn't need to lose 30 pounds still.
I was fantasizing. I suck this way. I love me a dream sequence. Hell, I imagine myself a 19 year old music video vixen when I bust out my daily mileage on the spin bike.
I will admit, I was dreaming of driving cross country to my new home with something lovely to admire on my left hand. What a fairy-tale it could have been to have met my soul mate AND become engaged in less than 1 year? It would have been like the end of some Rom Com.....me driving my sedan pointed South, laughing with my long hair blowing, admiring my shiny new friend.
And, since Sissy got engaged to her hubby less than 8 months from the day they first met, it gave me hope....I am the WORST comparer I know.
There is nothing quite like the feeling of the hardwood floor when it smacks you right in the face after the rug has been pulled out from under you. Wakeup call. Because as June curled into July, I realized that a ring wasn't happening this summer. I am okay with this once I myself processed it.
Crush has spoken to my parents about his intentions and I truly believe that I will be a Mrs. To Be in the nearer future. I actually want to live in the same city as Crush together for a few months before an engagement because I want a little peace to just enjoy life without planning . We need some more casual just us time. Time to watch TV, ride bikes, stroll the cobblestone streets, get ice cream, and eat homemade (by me, he barely knows how to open a can) weeknight suppers. I LOVE TO COOK, so I actually dusted off my cookbooks and marked some pages of recipes I know he will like this past week in anticipation of my move.
Love isn't easy. I know....trite trite trite. By even when you find the one, it doesn't all magically get better. I still have anxiety, I still have fears, I still feel like it may not end the way I want it to. I remember once talking to Sissy about this when she was a bit overwhelmed herself with being pregnant so soon after she was married so soon after she met her love. She told me one of the best pieces of advice, "with every great life transition comes excitement, uncertainty, and a little bit of an adjustment period." So true.
I have been disappointed before. I have felt the pain and loss of a broken heart. I am fairly confidant that Crush and I are meant to be a we.
We shall see.
Monday, July 8, 2013
We All Have Issues
I have been so MIA. Just working. It is SUPER busy with work. I slept no more than 20 hours TOTAL last week and this is just the nature of my job some months. Excited to hit a different pace in less than 10 weeks!
The move is creeping up and I am feeling positive. I think I found a place to live (Crush is checking it out for me this afternoon) and the resume is all updated and ready to send. I have been making healthy food choices (for the most part) and trying to get to the gym when I can. This last week was all about work and the next 3 will be as well, but when I can, I am popping by the gym to get in some quick cardio. At the very least, it helps with my depression and psoriasis (so not sexy!).
So, I lost another pound. I am staring the almost 10 pound mark in the eye and I know this time is the real time. Big changes for me are being worked on a daily basis. I am eating real food for the first time in my life and losing weight. I don't want to lose the weight eating only Lean Cuisines, butter spray, and diet soda. And I say this because several times that I lost weight it was because I did it with all diet products and fake foods. I feel good. People have been telling me how beautiful my skin is (my face skin as I still have psoriasis a bit on the arms and knees, but it is improving) and it has been years since I have heard this. I am wearing far less makeup and I am feeling attractive. I guess no soda, lots of fruits and veggies, less junk, and minimal booze does make me better looking. I never said I wasn't vain.
Today, after my WW meeting, I hopped over to the gym for a quick cardio session. I have a few gym pet peeves:
1. Why do all women under 25 wear underpants to the gym as shorts? What is up with those booty biter teeny gym daisy dukes? I mean, butt cheeks and vaginas should not be exposed while on the elliptical. I thought camel toes were not a fashion statement when they can be avoided....Some gals have the figure for it and some don't and I am not even hating on that (BECAUSE I DO NOT HAVE THE FIGURE FOR THEM AND WILL BE THE FIRST TO ADMIT THAT)....I just feel that it must be more comfortable to not have 2 inches of "shorts" ride up your crotch on the stair climber.
2. Not wiping off the machine after you usees it. This is obvious. Don't be gross (man who is 75 and wears the cut Gold's Gym tank top with exposed sides that reach the top of your sweat pants, I am talking to you). I wipe off my machine....now you try it too. Can't we all just pull our own weight? The takers of the world don't wipe machines and the givers do, I decided.
3. Asking me when I will be done with something/standing right next to the machine I am using while I am trying to reduce my mass while sighing, tapping your foot, and staring at your watch. Manners people! Manners. I get that everyone has a machine they like to use and we are all in a hurry. Be an adult, wait your turn, and plan for Plan B. Sometimes there is someone on the spin bike with the clip in petals I like to use, so I bring regular gym shoes, too. Because when someone is in the zone pedaling away, I don't want to tap them on the shoulder, make them drop their headphones, and ruin their concentration to ask them to please hurry (this has happened to me multiple times). When I am at the gym, I celebrate the fact that I am there. The gym's policy is 60 minutes per machine and I follow that rule, so don't ask me to get off 3 minutes after I got on (lady with the pink exercise mini skirt....I direct this at you!).
A little more gym chat......no matter what time I am at the gym, there are always 2 different ladies there. It dawned on me today that they have an exercise addiction. They are both less than 100 pounds dripping wet (which they do from all the exercise), do cardio non-stop, and look like nutritionally, they aren't perhaps eating enough......sad. It makes me so sad. I think they compete against one another for who is there the longest and I believe they are there at least 4-6 hours a day. Last week, I forget my headphones and went back in the afternoon between appointments and they were both still there...4 hours later, so I am not being my normal dramatic self.
I am telling you....as I go to the gym more and at infrequent times, I always see them. Well, almost always and for the most part they are both there, but do not interact with each other.
As I pounded the treadmill, I realized, food and exercise and appearance, well, maybe most of us gals have a little something?
I am a binge eater and they have their troubles, too. Yes, I may weigh twice as much as they do, but I am no better and they and vice versa, we just have different issues.
And then I felt positive for me.
Because I am getting help for my issues. I don't know their particular stories or treatment history, but I am working on improving my relationship with food now. Presently, I am trying to improve and I am for me.
Yes, I am 32 and not a young whippersnapper, but I am trying. Both of the gym ladies are older than me and I feel for them. Because I know the hold food can have over life.
I have put so many things on hold because of my weight. So many. And for what? Another private binge that gives me no clarity, security, or long standing happiness?!
I won't waste any more of my life destroying it because of my food addiction.
The move is creeping up and I am feeling positive. I think I found a place to live (Crush is checking it out for me this afternoon) and the resume is all updated and ready to send. I have been making healthy food choices (for the most part) and trying to get to the gym when I can. This last week was all about work and the next 3 will be as well, but when I can, I am popping by the gym to get in some quick cardio. At the very least, it helps with my depression and psoriasis (so not sexy!).
So, I lost another pound. I am staring the almost 10 pound mark in the eye and I know this time is the real time. Big changes for me are being worked on a daily basis. I am eating real food for the first time in my life and losing weight. I don't want to lose the weight eating only Lean Cuisines, butter spray, and diet soda. And I say this because several times that I lost weight it was because I did it with all diet products and fake foods. I feel good. People have been telling me how beautiful my skin is (my face skin as I still have psoriasis a bit on the arms and knees, but it is improving) and it has been years since I have heard this. I am wearing far less makeup and I am feeling attractive. I guess no soda, lots of fruits and veggies, less junk, and minimal booze does make me better looking. I never said I wasn't vain.
Today, after my WW meeting, I hopped over to the gym for a quick cardio session. I have a few gym pet peeves:
1. Why do all women under 25 wear underpants to the gym as shorts? What is up with those booty biter teeny gym daisy dukes? I mean, butt cheeks and vaginas should not be exposed while on the elliptical. I thought camel toes were not a fashion statement when they can be avoided....Some gals have the figure for it and some don't and I am not even hating on that (BECAUSE I DO NOT HAVE THE FIGURE FOR THEM AND WILL BE THE FIRST TO ADMIT THAT)....I just feel that it must be more comfortable to not have 2 inches of "shorts" ride up your crotch on the stair climber.
2. Not wiping off the machine after you usees it. This is obvious. Don't be gross (man who is 75 and wears the cut Gold's Gym tank top with exposed sides that reach the top of your sweat pants, I am talking to you). I wipe off my machine....now you try it too. Can't we all just pull our own weight? The takers of the world don't wipe machines and the givers do, I decided.
3. Asking me when I will be done with something/standing right next to the machine I am using while I am trying to reduce my mass while sighing, tapping your foot, and staring at your watch. Manners people! Manners. I get that everyone has a machine they like to use and we are all in a hurry. Be an adult, wait your turn, and plan for Plan B. Sometimes there is someone on the spin bike with the clip in petals I like to use, so I bring regular gym shoes, too. Because when someone is in the zone pedaling away, I don't want to tap them on the shoulder, make them drop their headphones, and ruin their concentration to ask them to please hurry (this has happened to me multiple times). When I am at the gym, I celebrate the fact that I am there. The gym's policy is 60 minutes per machine and I follow that rule, so don't ask me to get off 3 minutes after I got on (lady with the pink exercise mini skirt....I direct this at you!).
A little more gym chat......no matter what time I am at the gym, there are always 2 different ladies there. It dawned on me today that they have an exercise addiction. They are both less than 100 pounds dripping wet (which they do from all the exercise), do cardio non-stop, and look like nutritionally, they aren't perhaps eating enough......sad. It makes me so sad. I think they compete against one another for who is there the longest and I believe they are there at least 4-6 hours a day. Last week, I forget my headphones and went back in the afternoon between appointments and they were both still there...4 hours later, so I am not being my normal dramatic self.
I am telling you....as I go to the gym more and at infrequent times, I always see them. Well, almost always and for the most part they are both there, but do not interact with each other.
As I pounded the treadmill, I realized, food and exercise and appearance, well, maybe most of us gals have a little something?
I am a binge eater and they have their troubles, too. Yes, I may weigh twice as much as they do, but I am no better and they and vice versa, we just have different issues.
And then I felt positive for me.
Because I am getting help for my issues. I don't know their particular stories or treatment history, but I am working on improving my relationship with food now. Presently, I am trying to improve and I am for me.
Yes, I am 32 and not a young whippersnapper, but I am trying. Both of the gym ladies are older than me and I feel for them. Because I know the hold food can have over life.
I have put so many things on hold because of my weight. So many. And for what? Another private binge that gives me no clarity, security, or long standing happiness?!
I won't waste any more of my life destroying it because of my food addiction.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Sexy Dreams and Busy Times and Reality Checks
It has been busy around here. Summer is always my busiest time of year. When I move down South, I can't wait to have summer stretch a little past September. Extra bonus that I will be very close to the beach. I haven't enjoyed summer in years and I miss it. Aside from a fabulous beach vacation last year, I yearn for a time that I am able to stretch out all day under the sun on a weekend, reading a book. Perfection.
WeightWatchers is chugging along. I am down another 2 pounds this week. Excited. Especially because it is THAT time of the month and I am very bloated and also a chocolate monster. Couple that with my favorite pizza, sushi, and some AMAZING Costco vanilla cake this past week....well, I was not expecting a loss and I will take it. I have been great about planning my meals and tracking every bite (good and bad) and getting to the gym. My gym is open 24 hours, so that helps.
Facing reality about my food addiction is eye opening. I never eat because I am hungry. I don't even know what true hunger feels like anymore. I am beginning to learn how to detect my hunger in therapy. I really believe that I am learning the skills I need to know to tackle my eating obsession for life. It is making me feel hopeful.
Okay....here is a little confession. I keep having a sex dream about someone that is NOT Crush.
Well, a few months ago, a male friend of mine tried to kiss me one time when we were out. This person has since become someone I trust and love to spend time with. I think of him more as a gal than a guy and for most of our friendship, we have both been in serious relationships. Now he is single.
See, I don't have many friends anymore in my city that I feel I can spend time with even though I have friends here that I care deeply about. This may be in my head more than anything, but most of my friends are married and have children and I simply don't feel like imposing in on plans. I hate burdening people. I also have serious social anxiety, so I like to avoid "popular" hot spots where I feel like I could see people I know. This male friend is artsy and in some ways much cooler than me. His group of friends patron places that I have never been or even heard of and it has really opened my eyes to the city I have lived in or around most of my life. I always feel like an adventure is in store when we spend time together and I find myself staying out way later than I ever plan to with him because I am having so much fun.
I never have guy friends that stick around for long. After a while, they always try to have sex with me, or they believe I like them (I am flirty and obnoxious by nature, but I actually crush on people very little) and that makes things super awkward. All through my 20's, any guy I ever thought was my friend, either disappeared (because they thought I liked them) or snapped and did something very odd: called me to tell me they loved me at 4:00 am, waited in my lobby all night to talk to me to tell me that they can't stop thinking about me, let me sleep over when I was drunk (and not make-out) and then never spoke to me again, or threw a drink in my face and called me a tease at a happy hour....
This male friend is different. We like the same things (which is odd because I have strange taste), we love the same music, we can talk about roller coasters for hours. He feels like hanging out with my sister, who is seriously such a cool and funny person to waste a few hours with.
When my friend tried to kiss me a while back, we were enjoying some martinis and he told me that he loves how I smell. I will say, I have a signature scent (I wear an oil that I have been wearing since I was 12) and men seem to love it, always. He then started smelling the nape of my neck....told me I have a beautiful neck and then well.....he started kissing it. KISSING MY NECK! Do you know how much I love having my neck kissed? Like to infinity. LOVE IT. It all happened so fast, I didn't know how to stop it until I moved away so abruptly that I tripped over a bar stool.
We both started laughing and it broke the moment.
The neck kiss in itself was so telling that the sex between us would be incredible. I feel like the tenderness of a kiss is the true reveler of sexual compatibility. This was right on. And....well, Crush and I are still working on our kissing and neck kissing. Crush is a bit less experienced than my friend. But, he is open to direction and I love him so much, that it is lovely when we are intimate, but it won't be INCREDIBLE until I move and we can practice often. Crush has a hard time with foreplay because he gets so excited. Sometimes in bed, I feel like he turns into a horny 16 year old. Things are all over the place.
I often felt this way in college. The guys had no idea what they were doing. And after college, I dated a lot of OLDER men. They knew what they were doing. They worshipped my body and were tender, slow, and seductive. I love that. I love feeling worshipped. Oy. I just admitted that.
My friend, well, he gets a lot of tail. I know it. He knows it. I bet we could have fun naked. I say this as someone who loves and appreciates male prowess. His neck kiss was just spot on.
Even since then, when we hang out, we do not discuss the drunken neck kiss. I decided I value his company too much and I have boyfriend and he knows it and he is still a guy, so he doesn't need to talk about everything like I do. I even resisted making a few jokes about it and he dates all the time, so I thought we were past needing to discuss it.
Last week while we were having lunch with his friend, he told his pal randomly right in front of me, "I tried to make out with R&F a few months ago. She just smells too good and has the best lips, I couldn't help it. I respect her relationship and all that, but (and he looked me dead in the eye), if things don't work out for her and her boyfriend, I would love to spend a night with her. I think about it a lot. Her beauty has grown on me and I consider her to be one of the most gorgeous women I know because she has such a good heart. And I mean, her face kills me and from what I can tell, cute boobs. She is also hilarious."
I almost choked on my soup. SO AWKWARD. It was just such an open confession and well....flattering, but also sexy. He looked me right in the eye and told me that he wanted me. Bold. Confident. Seductive. He chose to address it to his friend, so it felt safer and less scary than if we were alone. I bet he knew that telling me alone would have freaked me out as he tells me that I freak out over nothing all of them time.
For the last few nights, I have been having epic sex dreams..staring my friend and not my Crush. And it feels so real. And in the dreams, I am single. And then I wake up and I feel relieved because I don't want to sleep with my friend and because I love my boyfriend.
So, what will happen? Nothing. I love my friend, but he is not the one for me. I love wanting what I can't have. I know this. I also love being wanted.
Since I have gained weight from my emotional eating, moved home, and I am over 30, well, I rarely feel wanted. I rarely feel beautiful. I feel awesome when I am with Crush, but since we do not live in the same place yet, it isn't a feeling in my daily life yet. I feel fat, ugly, and like a failure more than I want to admit. This feeling of being wanted....I can see why people could cheat. Could crave validation. Could do things they normally wouldn't. I sorta get it now.
The male friendships that have been broken and the cold drinks that have been thrown in my face....well, maybe I wasn't so innocent after all. Maybe, I made a guy friend think they had a chance when they never did...especially because I was always single. Because I needed everyone to tell me how awesome, pretty, and funny I was. Because I had horrible self-esteem.
I am beginning to think all of my past male friends believed I wanted them (that's why some of them acted on it) when all I ever really wanted was their approval.
I am beginning to think all of my past male friends believed I wanted them (that's why some of them acted on it) when all I ever really wanted was their approval.
This feels different. Sexual tension aside. This may just be the only guy friend that sticks around because we are actually friends and we can address the obvious. Given different circumstances...well, getting naked could have happened. Not forever, just for one night.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
It Is The People That Make The Party! An Answer To A Really Good Question.
I believe that people make or break a party.
You can spend $100 or a $1,000,000, but without good people who are there for the right reasons....it does not matter how much you spend. A get together of any kind depends on the people there. Great people make for great times.
After I posted last night, I received a heartfelt comment asking me this....:
What is stopping you from being the lady you always wanted to be in your heart now as opposed to when you move?
The answer is simply the people.
I know it seems too easy. I know it seems like I am passing blame....I know I seem weak that I cannot overcome my past. Some may think I am escaping. Fleeing a place that I can't survive in. I get all this. I really do. Some people are less influenced by public opinion. This is something I am working on.
I am going to tell you a little story that I touched on briefly months ago when I posted about Bitch and Snake. I consider it now a pivotal situation that shaped my life and my honesty. The story connects very much to how people where I live handle the truth and how I came to choose lies to avoid backlash until rather recently.
Here we go!
My Mom has 2 brothers. Both Ivy League, both geniuses in their own way. 1 a doctor and 1 a lawyer. These brothers are close in age (2.5 years apart whereas my mom is 6 years younger than the middle brother) and were always in competition. My Mom was exempt from this. As the baby, as the only daughter, and since she has a slight physical disability...well, she was coddled and favored and not put into the severe pressure cooker that her brothers had to endure.
My Mom's oldest brother (and my favorite uncle) is a real success story. He is just beyond words. Hugely successful and admired in his field. He is simply awe inducing. I cannot believe that he is my Mom's brother sometimes...that they actually came from the same parents, he is just so intelligent and a phenomenal person.
My mom's middle brother....well, he is a genius, too. But, different. He struggled with mental illness, specifically depression and bipolar disorder most of his life. But, he still accomplished so much. He went to Harvard Law School. He graduated top of his class. He was a law partner at 1 of the most prestigious firms in Manhattan by age 35. He was nothing to scoff at. But, during his success, he tried to commit suicide several times. He married and divorced the love of his life. He got into cocaine. He moved to a smaller place and started his own very successful private practice. He married again. He had 2 children. He fell into another bout of depression and tried to kill himself.........he filed for bankruptcy....he hit absolute rock bottom.
And when he had no where to go and no one to turn to, he came to my Mom. His baby sister. He ended up living in my parents' basement when I was 14. He lived with us for 2 full years.
I was born in New York. My parents are New Yorkers. Born and bred. They didn't move to the Midwest until they were in their 40's. New Yorkers own their shit. They talk shit, too. Yes, there are exceptions to my theory, but mostly the truth is the truth out there. I was raised, like my parents were, to tell the truth.
When we moved out here, I remember people were always in disbelief of what I was saying. Not that I was crude, just that I was open. Open about my thoughts, my feelings, and my body. I remember getting the message that this wasn't right. That is wasn't socially acceptable to share what I did and I was always super confused as to why....why was the truth now bad if it was always okay and accepted before?
So, my uncle was living in my basement and my Mom was a bit confused about how to proceed. She, like me, had made new friends who showed her that being honest wasn't always the best way to be if you lived here. She was always very conflicted and would regularly share that people were "talking bad about her and she had no idea why", but unlike me, she really didn't care much and went about her life confidently. My Mom is extremely confidant. I remember her asking me "if we should tell people that my uncle had a nervous breakdown?" and I agreed that it was nothing to me ashamed of. People do have nervous breakdowns sometimes, great people. Geniuses. But, my mom did tell me "that some people here (Midwest) don't like the truth and I don't want you to be brought into this." It was like she knew that this situation may not be acceptable. She felt it.
1 day, Bitch's mom called up my Mom to ask about my uncle. I had been at Bitch's after school and I had asked to use the computer at her house to print something and mentioned that "I hadn't been in my basement for a while because my uncle was down there" and it piqued Momma Bitch's interest.
Blood in the water.
My Mom didn't spin the story when asked. She shared everything. The suicide attempts, the cocaine, the failed marriages, the bankruptcy. Now, I know that I would have done the same thing as her. But, even a few months ago, I wouldn't have. My mom owns her shit. She is awesome this way.
The next day, I went to school and I felt new stares in the hallways. People were treating me differently. At lunch, when I asked what the hell was going on to my "friends", Bitch replied...."My mom told me that your uncle is poor and crazy and sponging off your parents. How pathetic. She also said that your mom said that mental illness runs in your family, so now it all makes sense. You are crazy."
Ahhhh.....I was now known as a crazy person at high school because my mom told the truth.
You see how this little tale got spun? Because of the people.
That year, I got dumped by my friends, I didn't get asked to any dances, and I worked really hard to remove the crazy stigma (ironic now that I suffer from depression). I made new friends from other schools and came back better for it, only to fall for the same tricks again. I was dumped again my senior year for being crazy......and I think some of my depression does come from the idea that other people think I am crazy. I cannot believe I just admitted that, but it is true...I endured bullying. Lots of it. But, this was before Facebook and all that. Sometimes I think that if I lived now as a teenage in my old high school with all of the social media...well, I would have killed myself from the nonstop bullying. At least when I was younger, the bullying existed mostly at school and from being left out, but my emotions were manageable. I could escape the tourture in the hours I didn't have to be at school.
Down South, ...people own their lives. Again a general statement and I am sure exceptions apply here, too.
SIDENOTE: Please know that I share my personal experiences and I try to tow the line with over-generalizing, but I will say things are simply passive-aggressive where I am for me, in my town. I don't want to debate it that much as I know that everyone has their own life experience and the story I am telling is my own.
In the South, some things may be said sweetly, but real life is real. 1 of the reasons my parents got on famously with Crush's was because neither set has secrets. My Mom openly shared her brother's issues, my Dad openly shared his struggles with my Grandmother and his sister, Crush's parents shared personal things that no one in my area would ever openly claim. And they did so without spinning it. Just the truth. A few moments on each subject. No whispers. No judgement. Accept reality and move on.
My parents couldn't believe that during the trip when we ran into Crush's parents friends and something came up, everyone answered candidly, even in front of my folks....this would NEVER happen in my neighborhood....you see here, private information leaks from a trusted source. A person tells someone they trust, like my Mom to Bitch's mom and then stories get passed along and shared, but because people are embarrassed to share their truth in public here, there is no control over what gets out.
Here is an example of a real exchange down South that I heard over the weekend:
Crush's mom when seeing an old friend: "How is Dean? Is he enjoying life as a newlywed?"
Old Friend: "Darling...didn't you hear? He is already getting divorced! Love is a complicated thing. But, there were no babies yet, so he will be okay. He learned a lot. Does Ready and Fading have a single sister?"
If this was in my neighborhood, this is how it would have likely gone:
My Mom when seeing an old friend: "How is Dean? Is he enjoying life as a newlywed?"
Old Friend: "Of course (even if the divorce proceeding were already occurring)! He is so happy and we are so happy and we are just praying for grand babies. How are you? How are things? How are the girls? (SUBJECT CHANGE)."
Then my Mom would find out a few weeks later than Dean was getting divorced and her feelings would be hurt that her old friend didn't tell her, but she would be forced to understand that the lie was to "save face" and done in "protection."
Aren't you all confused?
I am!!!
So, to sum this all up.....when I moved home less than 2 years ago, I didn't realize how much pain and emotional distress coming home to a place with the people I avoided for over 12 years would bother me. I thought that I would be safe. I thought people would understand the distress I was enduring. No one did. No one cared. I didn't want sympathy, I wanted understanding. I hide out because it is easier for me than it is to face the reality that my life is not what other people here think it should be. I am okay with this. I am weak here and I know it. It is an issue that I am trying to work through in therapy and something I have been dealing with for 2/3s of my life. It ain't pretty, but it is mine.
I am excited to start over and to be given the opportunity to wipe my slate clean. To be the honest, open, free person I have always wanted to be in a place that accepts this type of behavior.
You see, down South, "crazy people" are simply "characters" and everyone loves a character!
The people here, are not privy to my party.
You can spend $100 or a $1,000,000, but without good people who are there for the right reasons....it does not matter how much you spend. A get together of any kind depends on the people there. Great people make for great times.
After I posted last night, I received a heartfelt comment asking me this....:
What is stopping you from being the lady you always wanted to be in your heart now as opposed to when you move?
The answer is simply the people.
I know it seems too easy. I know it seems like I am passing blame....I know I seem weak that I cannot overcome my past. Some may think I am escaping. Fleeing a place that I can't survive in. I get all this. I really do. Some people are less influenced by public opinion. This is something I am working on.
I am going to tell you a little story that I touched on briefly months ago when I posted about Bitch and Snake. I consider it now a pivotal situation that shaped my life and my honesty. The story connects very much to how people where I live handle the truth and how I came to choose lies to avoid backlash until rather recently.
Here we go!
My Mom has 2 brothers. Both Ivy League, both geniuses in their own way. 1 a doctor and 1 a lawyer. These brothers are close in age (2.5 years apart whereas my mom is 6 years younger than the middle brother) and were always in competition. My Mom was exempt from this. As the baby, as the only daughter, and since she has a slight physical disability...well, she was coddled and favored and not put into the severe pressure cooker that her brothers had to endure.
My Mom's oldest brother (and my favorite uncle) is a real success story. He is just beyond words. Hugely successful and admired in his field. He is simply awe inducing. I cannot believe that he is my Mom's brother sometimes...that they actually came from the same parents, he is just so intelligent and a phenomenal person.
My mom's middle brother....well, he is a genius, too. But, different. He struggled with mental illness, specifically depression and bipolar disorder most of his life. But, he still accomplished so much. He went to Harvard Law School. He graduated top of his class. He was a law partner at 1 of the most prestigious firms in Manhattan by age 35. He was nothing to scoff at. But, during his success, he tried to commit suicide several times. He married and divorced the love of his life. He got into cocaine. He moved to a smaller place and started his own very successful private practice. He married again. He had 2 children. He fell into another bout of depression and tried to kill himself.........he filed for bankruptcy....he hit absolute rock bottom.
And when he had no where to go and no one to turn to, he came to my Mom. His baby sister. He ended up living in my parents' basement when I was 14. He lived with us for 2 full years.
I was born in New York. My parents are New Yorkers. Born and bred. They didn't move to the Midwest until they were in their 40's. New Yorkers own their shit. They talk shit, too. Yes, there are exceptions to my theory, but mostly the truth is the truth out there. I was raised, like my parents were, to tell the truth.
When we moved out here, I remember people were always in disbelief of what I was saying. Not that I was crude, just that I was open. Open about my thoughts, my feelings, and my body. I remember getting the message that this wasn't right. That is wasn't socially acceptable to share what I did and I was always super confused as to why....why was the truth now bad if it was always okay and accepted before?
So, my uncle was living in my basement and my Mom was a bit confused about how to proceed. She, like me, had made new friends who showed her that being honest wasn't always the best way to be if you lived here. She was always very conflicted and would regularly share that people were "talking bad about her and she had no idea why", but unlike me, she really didn't care much and went about her life confidently. My Mom is extremely confidant. I remember her asking me "if we should tell people that my uncle had a nervous breakdown?" and I agreed that it was nothing to me ashamed of. People do have nervous breakdowns sometimes, great people. Geniuses. But, my mom did tell me "that some people here (Midwest) don't like the truth and I don't want you to be brought into this." It was like she knew that this situation may not be acceptable. She felt it.
1 day, Bitch's mom called up my Mom to ask about my uncle. I had been at Bitch's after school and I had asked to use the computer at her house to print something and mentioned that "I hadn't been in my basement for a while because my uncle was down there" and it piqued Momma Bitch's interest.
Blood in the water.
My Mom didn't spin the story when asked. She shared everything. The suicide attempts, the cocaine, the failed marriages, the bankruptcy. Now, I know that I would have done the same thing as her. But, even a few months ago, I wouldn't have. My mom owns her shit. She is awesome this way.
The next day, I went to school and I felt new stares in the hallways. People were treating me differently. At lunch, when I asked what the hell was going on to my "friends", Bitch replied...."My mom told me that your uncle is poor and crazy and sponging off your parents. How pathetic. She also said that your mom said that mental illness runs in your family, so now it all makes sense. You are crazy."
Ahhhh.....I was now known as a crazy person at high school because my mom told the truth.
You see how this little tale got spun? Because of the people.
That year, I got dumped by my friends, I didn't get asked to any dances, and I worked really hard to remove the crazy stigma (ironic now that I suffer from depression). I made new friends from other schools and came back better for it, only to fall for the same tricks again. I was dumped again my senior year for being crazy......and I think some of my depression does come from the idea that other people think I am crazy. I cannot believe I just admitted that, but it is true...I endured bullying. Lots of it. But, this was before Facebook and all that. Sometimes I think that if I lived now as a teenage in my old high school with all of the social media...well, I would have killed myself from the nonstop bullying. At least when I was younger, the bullying existed mostly at school and from being left out, but my emotions were manageable. I could escape the tourture in the hours I didn't have to be at school.
Down South, ...people own their lives. Again a general statement and I am sure exceptions apply here, too.
SIDENOTE: Please know that I share my personal experiences and I try to tow the line with over-generalizing, but I will say things are simply passive-aggressive where I am for me, in my town. I don't want to debate it that much as I know that everyone has their own life experience and the story I am telling is my own.
In the South, some things may be said sweetly, but real life is real. 1 of the reasons my parents got on famously with Crush's was because neither set has secrets. My Mom openly shared her brother's issues, my Dad openly shared his struggles with my Grandmother and his sister, Crush's parents shared personal things that no one in my area would ever openly claim. And they did so without spinning it. Just the truth. A few moments on each subject. No whispers. No judgement. Accept reality and move on.
My parents couldn't believe that during the trip when we ran into Crush's parents friends and something came up, everyone answered candidly, even in front of my folks....this would NEVER happen in my neighborhood....you see here, private information leaks from a trusted source. A person tells someone they trust, like my Mom to Bitch's mom and then stories get passed along and shared, but because people are embarrassed to share their truth in public here, there is no control over what gets out.
Here is an example of a real exchange down South that I heard over the weekend:
Crush's mom when seeing an old friend: "How is Dean? Is he enjoying life as a newlywed?"
Old Friend: "Darling...didn't you hear? He is already getting divorced! Love is a complicated thing. But, there were no babies yet, so he will be okay. He learned a lot. Does Ready and Fading have a single sister?"
If this was in my neighborhood, this is how it would have likely gone:
My Mom when seeing an old friend: "How is Dean? Is he enjoying life as a newlywed?"
Old Friend: "Of course (even if the divorce proceeding were already occurring)! He is so happy and we are so happy and we are just praying for grand babies. How are you? How are things? How are the girls? (SUBJECT CHANGE)."
Then my Mom would find out a few weeks later than Dean was getting divorced and her feelings would be hurt that her old friend didn't tell her, but she would be forced to understand that the lie was to "save face" and done in "protection."
Aren't you all confused?
I am!!!
So, to sum this all up.....when I moved home less than 2 years ago, I didn't realize how much pain and emotional distress coming home to a place with the people I avoided for over 12 years would bother me. I thought that I would be safe. I thought people would understand the distress I was enduring. No one did. No one cared. I didn't want sympathy, I wanted understanding. I hide out because it is easier for me than it is to face the reality that my life is not what other people here think it should be. I am okay with this. I am weak here and I know it. It is an issue that I am trying to work through in therapy and something I have been dealing with for 2/3s of my life. It ain't pretty, but it is mine.
I am excited to start over and to be given the opportunity to wipe my slate clean. To be the honest, open, free person I have always wanted to be in a place that accepts this type of behavior.
You see, down South, "crazy people" are simply "characters" and everyone loves a character!
The people here, are not privy to my party.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
I Can't Breathe and Lots of Random Reflection Upon My Birthday
I have been having quite a week....
It hasn't been a good one.
My birthday is coming up this weekend and I am exhausted.
All of the goals I wanted to accomplish this year, many of them simply didn't happen for me.
I am okay with this.
I am okay with the current trend of failure that is occurring in my life....I see it all as a sign that I MUST leave. I knew this 6 years ago. I felt it then. And I stayed.
My walls have crumbled. I feel the most vulnerable I have ever felt in my entire life. I am the heaviest I have ever been. College fat is now a goal of mine. I want to be college fat because it will be thinner than I am now.
I like to really tangle things up good before I accept the things I have always known...including that I will never be able to achieve my greatest successes in a place that I do not feel comfortable living. Among the gossip, slander, and hatred that I will never understand. And yet, I know that this badness exists everywhere. I know this. But, I have the chance to start-over. To redefine myself. To press the reset button. It is like the summer before college ALL over again. EXCITING.
I have halfway fallen in love with myself this year and it is confusing. To love me, I cannot love all of the other people that I have allowed myself to be tricked by....because I am so different. My values, my morals, my want for something better. So, some days I wake up hating myself. I hate myself for still letting myself be emotionally affected by people I will never respect. Wash and repeat. Every single day.
It isn't just high school BS holding me back. It is the fact that I feel like I am hiding out. From Awful. From former clients. From former school mates that have houses, cars, and husbands while I am living at home.
There is one particular person I really don't want to see. She lives mere blocks away from my parents. I HATE HER. I have always considered her a frenemy....Now, when I think I see her in her car driving....I switch lanes, pull over, make u-turns....FOR WHAT? She is the idiotic fool and yet I am the one hiding myself. WHERE IS MY SENSE?
My anxiety and stress are ballooning. I feel a tight constriction of life strangling me with every sunrise. Months ago, I couldn't sleep at all and now sleep is my only salvation. I can't get enough sleep. When I wake up at 6:00 am, I negotiate why I need to stay in bed until 9:00 am......I haven't slept like this EVER. In my dreams, I find the life I crave. I truly believe that happiness is around the corner.
I DESERVE IT.
I HAVE THIS "FUCK YOU" FANTASY WHERE I SEE EVERYONE I HATE AND I WIN.
AND WHY....WHY...DO I EVEN CARE?!
Because truly inside I cannot figure out if I even care or not and this is most confusing of all.
There is a saying that no matter how old you are, when you come home, you will always be a child and I FEEL that. My parents are the BEST, but still......I am nagged to pick up my room, encourage to eat what my Mom and Dad are having for supper and them shamed for not going to the gym each and every day regardless of my schedule. There are trigger foods in my home that lead me to binges, yet I cannot keep my parents from bringing these foods into their own home....BECAUSE IT IS THEIR HOME and my father has changed so much since he retired, that he wouldn't understand the emotional issues I am having with food, even if I screamed them into his ears with a megaphone.
He used to be there for me, always. Now, he is tired of me. His mother is taking away his patience. I wouldn't want to be him for a day...having to deal with her. I get this. I feel for him. I am not a child. I have to get my own shit together, too.
If I stayed here, in the Midwest, I believe I would eventually become unable to leave my home. I would crumble. Fall apart. Reach 300 pounds before I knew it. I now see life differently. I see how people cannot get out of something they are stuck in and yet, I have been gifted with the 1 way ticket out of this pit. I am lucky.
Just getting up and getting out is a constant struggle. I do it, I do not let people down, but it is becoming a tug of war with my soul. It is becoming something that I can no longer take for granted....just like how my clothes in my closet used to fit and now they don't.....my life feels like it belongs to someone else these days. My coping mechanism is saying the amount of days I have left here until I leave. I repeat the number like a ritual. It gets me through my days.
The visit with Crush was fine. Not that eventful. Good. I cannot relax here in this city, so our visits are always better down south when I am not protecting myself so closely. He frustrates me terribly, but who doesn't these days? I know it is me, NOT him. I am the one having severe issues as of late and accepting my crazy instead of passing it onto to him is major progress in itself.
I have reached my breaking point. Yet, I have WONDERFUL people to help this summer and then I will be on my way out of here and towards a better life. My goal for this summer is to simply survive, to be the BEST worker I can be. To not worry about my weight as I don't see myself being able to commit to it in this uneasy emotional environment for me. I have accepted this. I will cope. One foot in front of the other until the numbers of days left to chant is 0.
Yet, I want revenge. There....I said it. I want blood sucking revenge on a few people and I intend to get it. Like a lady, but I will get it. And the fact that I am even sharing this makes me seem like an unhinged freak....but, hell....perhaps I am. I am a steel magnolia. I may look like I lay down and play dead and get walked all over, but that phase of life has ended. Sorry, if you want to make it public and personal, then it will be public and personal from my side, too....especially if you owe me money for my time.
Please understand that a man cannot fix everything. There I said it. I know I wanted Crush to be my everything. My life preserver in this wild sea of change. BUT, I have to save myself first. Love, money, a big diamond ring....none of that will ever make me feel whole unless I am whole on the inside. And I will have all that. And where I am from, those things: the money, the big ring...that determines who wins. SICK. BUT TRUE. And in those ways, I will win. But, none of this matters to me anymore....and it once did. I have said it before and I will say it again, I kinda dated Awful for his money. Because that defined him and made him more attractive to me. His money presented opportunities and I liked them. HATE ME. I get it, but I am not lying. Yet, Crush has so much more than anything Awful did and I am over it. I wish Crush had less, so we could live a bit of a simpler life with less expectations and obligations.
Where I want to win is by being a good person. An honest person. A real person. A kind person. A person that can actually do all she says she will do.....
I think this is where I am conflicted these days. AND I KNOW BETTER. I have been thin before for little blips and whenever I would slip into those size 29 jeans and strut around like a little proud peacock, I would get this sense of "that's it?" All of the deprivation, hours at the gym, self-obsessing and hatred....that's it?! Yes, of course being slim feels fucking fantastic, but not mind blowing. Just okay, really after the novelty of it wears off. Because 155 pounds or 210 pounds, I am still a bit broken on the inside and this may be my life struggle. Not fixing my outside, but fixing my inside.
So, yes, Crush's love gets me through my days. The promise of tomorrow and September and all that jazz. But, he is just a man. Just a person and like me, far from perfect. He is the one for me, but now that I found him, he is not my entire identity. He is not what defines me. I am still me. I am just no longer single.
I HATED when I was single blog reader and a blogger who I once identified with so much would find a significant other and all of a sudden there was no longer darkness and only LIGHT. Everything was sunshine and roses. AMAZING. Moonlight strolls and sex on the beach. I was her for a little bit, too.
Now, my honeymoon period is over. It is. I think this is where most people stop with the honesty. Because they don't want to admit that what they yearned for is not all they hoped it would be. You can still be head of over heels in love with someone and have bad days, weeks, or months. I met my prince charming and I am still fat, broke, and anxiety-ridden. I am still struggling. I am still conflicted.
On this birthday (in a few days), I give myself a gift that I never have before....the ability to be myself. I hope this will be the gift that keeps on giving, until I am old and gray....To say, do, and feel whatever I want. I give myself the permission to be sad, happy, lonely, or stressed...to accept failure and to learn from it. To eat ice cream for breakfast if that is what my body is truly craving. To have good days even if the scale is not where I want it to be.
This last year, a client that fired me (a miserable person who I should have NEVER agreed to work with....I felt like I HAD to because I helped several of her friends, but it was a bad fit from the very start and I am happy I didn't continue, my biggest mistake was accepting them or not firing them first and this haunts me....) told me that she doesn't know how I can "wake up in the mirror and look at myself because I am such a terrible person, a liar, a con-artist, a fraud." She told me, "I will never make it in life, never amount to anything" that I will "die unhappy and alone and broken" and all I could think was...YOU. You are this person. Not me. You are projecting your life onto me. Your divorce, your failed relationships, your fading beauty.
This conversation has taunted me 100s of times a day. It has. It has given me doubt. It has led me to rush to the toilet and vomit sometimes when I think about it at the gym where my mind really wanders.
It was my rock bottom.
Because none of the things she said are true.
If anything, it was my goodness and heart that she will never understand because she is the example of the kind of person I can never help: vapid, stupid, self obsessed, jealous, cunning, and insincere.
And yet, she fascinates me...how does a person like her get the power to make me unhappy?
This is something I am still working on....
It hasn't been a good one.
My birthday is coming up this weekend and I am exhausted.
All of the goals I wanted to accomplish this year, many of them simply didn't happen for me.
I am okay with this.
I am okay with the current trend of failure that is occurring in my life....I see it all as a sign that I MUST leave. I knew this 6 years ago. I felt it then. And I stayed.
My walls have crumbled. I feel the most vulnerable I have ever felt in my entire life. I am the heaviest I have ever been. College fat is now a goal of mine. I want to be college fat because it will be thinner than I am now.
I like to really tangle things up good before I accept the things I have always known...including that I will never be able to achieve my greatest successes in a place that I do not feel comfortable living. Among the gossip, slander, and hatred that I will never understand. And yet, I know that this badness exists everywhere. I know this. But, I have the chance to start-over. To redefine myself. To press the reset button. It is like the summer before college ALL over again. EXCITING.
I have halfway fallen in love with myself this year and it is confusing. To love me, I cannot love all of the other people that I have allowed myself to be tricked by....because I am so different. My values, my morals, my want for something better. So, some days I wake up hating myself. I hate myself for still letting myself be emotionally affected by people I will never respect. Wash and repeat. Every single day.
It isn't just high school BS holding me back. It is the fact that I feel like I am hiding out. From Awful. From former clients. From former school mates that have houses, cars, and husbands while I am living at home.
There is one particular person I really don't want to see. She lives mere blocks away from my parents. I HATE HER. I have always considered her a frenemy....Now, when I think I see her in her car driving....I switch lanes, pull over, make u-turns....FOR WHAT? She is the idiotic fool and yet I am the one hiding myself. WHERE IS MY SENSE?
My anxiety and stress are ballooning. I feel a tight constriction of life strangling me with every sunrise. Months ago, I couldn't sleep at all and now sleep is my only salvation. I can't get enough sleep. When I wake up at 6:00 am, I negotiate why I need to stay in bed until 9:00 am......I haven't slept like this EVER. In my dreams, I find the life I crave. I truly believe that happiness is around the corner.
I DESERVE IT.
I HAVE THIS "FUCK YOU" FANTASY WHERE I SEE EVERYONE I HATE AND I WIN.
AND WHY....WHY...DO I EVEN CARE?!
Because truly inside I cannot figure out if I even care or not and this is most confusing of all.
There is a saying that no matter how old you are, when you come home, you will always be a child and I FEEL that. My parents are the BEST, but still......I am nagged to pick up my room, encourage to eat what my Mom and Dad are having for supper and them shamed for not going to the gym each and every day regardless of my schedule. There are trigger foods in my home that lead me to binges, yet I cannot keep my parents from bringing these foods into their own home....BECAUSE IT IS THEIR HOME and my father has changed so much since he retired, that he wouldn't understand the emotional issues I am having with food, even if I screamed them into his ears with a megaphone.
He used to be there for me, always. Now, he is tired of me. His mother is taking away his patience. I wouldn't want to be him for a day...having to deal with her. I get this. I feel for him. I am not a child. I have to get my own shit together, too.
If I stayed here, in the Midwest, I believe I would eventually become unable to leave my home. I would crumble. Fall apart. Reach 300 pounds before I knew it. I now see life differently. I see how people cannot get out of something they are stuck in and yet, I have been gifted with the 1 way ticket out of this pit. I am lucky.
Just getting up and getting out is a constant struggle. I do it, I do not let people down, but it is becoming a tug of war with my soul. It is becoming something that I can no longer take for granted....just like how my clothes in my closet used to fit and now they don't.....my life feels like it belongs to someone else these days. My coping mechanism is saying the amount of days I have left here until I leave. I repeat the number like a ritual. It gets me through my days.
The visit with Crush was fine. Not that eventful. Good. I cannot relax here in this city, so our visits are always better down south when I am not protecting myself so closely. He frustrates me terribly, but who doesn't these days? I know it is me, NOT him. I am the one having severe issues as of late and accepting my crazy instead of passing it onto to him is major progress in itself.
I have reached my breaking point. Yet, I have WONDERFUL people to help this summer and then I will be on my way out of here and towards a better life. My goal for this summer is to simply survive, to be the BEST worker I can be. To not worry about my weight as I don't see myself being able to commit to it in this uneasy emotional environment for me. I have accepted this. I will cope. One foot in front of the other until the numbers of days left to chant is 0.
Yet, I want revenge. There....I said it. I want blood sucking revenge on a few people and I intend to get it. Like a lady, but I will get it. And the fact that I am even sharing this makes me seem like an unhinged freak....but, hell....perhaps I am. I am a steel magnolia. I may look like I lay down and play dead and get walked all over, but that phase of life has ended. Sorry, if you want to make it public and personal, then it will be public and personal from my side, too....especially if you owe me money for my time.
Please understand that a man cannot fix everything. There I said it. I know I wanted Crush to be my everything. My life preserver in this wild sea of change. BUT, I have to save myself first. Love, money, a big diamond ring....none of that will ever make me feel whole unless I am whole on the inside. And I will have all that. And where I am from, those things: the money, the big ring...that determines who wins. SICK. BUT TRUE. And in those ways, I will win. But, none of this matters to me anymore....and it once did. I have said it before and I will say it again, I kinda dated Awful for his money. Because that defined him and made him more attractive to me. His money presented opportunities and I liked them. HATE ME. I get it, but I am not lying. Yet, Crush has so much more than anything Awful did and I am over it. I wish Crush had less, so we could live a bit of a simpler life with less expectations and obligations.
Where I want to win is by being a good person. An honest person. A real person. A kind person. A person that can actually do all she says she will do.....
I think this is where I am conflicted these days. AND I KNOW BETTER. I have been thin before for little blips and whenever I would slip into those size 29 jeans and strut around like a little proud peacock, I would get this sense of "that's it?" All of the deprivation, hours at the gym, self-obsessing and hatred....that's it?! Yes, of course being slim feels fucking fantastic, but not mind blowing. Just okay, really after the novelty of it wears off. Because 155 pounds or 210 pounds, I am still a bit broken on the inside and this may be my life struggle. Not fixing my outside, but fixing my inside.
So, yes, Crush's love gets me through my days. The promise of tomorrow and September and all that jazz. But, he is just a man. Just a person and like me, far from perfect. He is the one for me, but now that I found him, he is not my entire identity. He is not what defines me. I am still me. I am just no longer single.
I HATED when I was single blog reader and a blogger who I once identified with so much would find a significant other and all of a sudden there was no longer darkness and only LIGHT. Everything was sunshine and roses. AMAZING. Moonlight strolls and sex on the beach. I was her for a little bit, too.
Now, my honeymoon period is over. It is. I think this is where most people stop with the honesty. Because they don't want to admit that what they yearned for is not all they hoped it would be. You can still be head of over heels in love with someone and have bad days, weeks, or months. I met my prince charming and I am still fat, broke, and anxiety-ridden. I am still struggling. I am still conflicted.
On this birthday (in a few days), I give myself a gift that I never have before....the ability to be myself. I hope this will be the gift that keeps on giving, until I am old and gray....To say, do, and feel whatever I want. I give myself the permission to be sad, happy, lonely, or stressed...to accept failure and to learn from it. To eat ice cream for breakfast if that is what my body is truly craving. To have good days even if the scale is not where I want it to be.
This last year, a client that fired me (a miserable person who I should have NEVER agreed to work with....I felt like I HAD to because I helped several of her friends, but it was a bad fit from the very start and I am happy I didn't continue, my biggest mistake was accepting them or not firing them first and this haunts me....) told me that she doesn't know how I can "wake up in the mirror and look at myself because I am such a terrible person, a liar, a con-artist, a fraud." She told me, "I will never make it in life, never amount to anything" that I will "die unhappy and alone and broken" and all I could think was...YOU. You are this person. Not me. You are projecting your life onto me. Your divorce, your failed relationships, your fading beauty.
This conversation has taunted me 100s of times a day. It has. It has given me doubt. It has led me to rush to the toilet and vomit sometimes when I think about it at the gym where my mind really wanders.
It was my rock bottom.
Because none of the things she said are true.
If anything, it was my goodness and heart that she will never understand because she is the example of the kind of person I can never help: vapid, stupid, self obsessed, jealous, cunning, and insincere.
And yet, she fascinates me...how does a person like her get the power to make me unhappy?
This is something I am still working on....
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
The S Word
Skinny.
FUCK IT.
Crush and I are in a bit of a tiff.
Lately, he keeps talking about how skinny everyone is. It is really triggering me.
I feel that little voice inside me. Calling me. Tempting me. "Starve R&F. See how long you can restrict your calories so Crush will say you are ALSO skinny."
Every bout of dieting until this last one which I started BEFORE I even met Crush, was because of a comment about my weight by a man. Every single time. For me diets start after insults. Therefore, I have not been able to lose weight because I have never done it for me. For my health. For my needs. I did it so men would call me skinny and MOSTLY, so no one would call me falsely pregnant or fat.
But, I am fat now. Fluffy. I am for me and I am okay with it. I have a boyfriend who loves me. I have been to the gym the last 6 days in a row. I have been on WeightWatchers on plan for nearly 3 weeks. I am feeling good. I want to be thinner, but I don't want to be skinny.
Crush cannot stop:
"Your friend Lynn is skinny"
"Your sister is so skinny after 2 kids"
"Your cousin is skinny and has such toned arms"
"My mom wants you to try to set my brother up, but she says he only likes skinny girls."
Today shit hit the fan. While discussing my cousin above, he told me in passing "you are so much bigger than your cousin."
I am. She is 5'0" and I am 5'10". She is in a skinny phase of her life. She is under tremendous pressure. Crush doesn't know anything about her.
I went NUTS.
Because I have a feeling his mom is telling him that I am great and beautiful, but that I should lose weight, especially if we are to be married in the near future. I often have these delusional fantasies about my weight and what people say about it negatively....but, I can read Crush like an open book. I KNOW him. I also know how important thin is to his family and how his sister lost 40+ pounds for her wedding and in my opinion took it WAY WAY too far as she looked gorgeous before (and the excessive weight loss took away from her beauty) and I think she felt she needed to be the absolute skinniest she could EVER be, so no one could call her fat.....I know how it feels to be told that, "you have such a pretty face, BUT..." SUCKS!
I asked him directly about all the skinny stuff and why he can't stop commenting on it and he is hemming and hawing and said he loves me just the way I am which I believe.
The only thing Crush is guilty of is that he is a TOTAL momma's boy and his momma is an excellent person, but I think she was brought up in fear of being fat, so it is ingrained in her. Anything over skinny, so even normal weight, is fat to her. I have noticed that she talks about food, her weight, and other people's weight a lot. Crush has no idea about healthy food and unhealthy food. He is lucky he has such a great metabolism. He is clueless when it comes to diet and nutrition.
My fear isn't as much about me. I just don't want that skinny talk in my home, especially if we have daughters.
My Sissy fights it on the daily as her mother-in-law has food issues and is very particular with what my sister puts in her kids mouths...they once got in a fight because she didn't want Big Baby to have strawberries because they have sugar.....OY!
Nothing in life in perfect. Even the best ones have something. I think this will be our little struggle and I am staying firm and fat (ish)...literally.
FUCK IT.
Crush and I are in a bit of a tiff.
Lately, he keeps talking about how skinny everyone is. It is really triggering me.
I feel that little voice inside me. Calling me. Tempting me. "Starve R&F. See how long you can restrict your calories so Crush will say you are ALSO skinny."
Every bout of dieting until this last one which I started BEFORE I even met Crush, was because of a comment about my weight by a man. Every single time. For me diets start after insults. Therefore, I have not been able to lose weight because I have never done it for me. For my health. For my needs. I did it so men would call me skinny and MOSTLY, so no one would call me falsely pregnant or fat.
But, I am fat now. Fluffy. I am for me and I am okay with it. I have a boyfriend who loves me. I have been to the gym the last 6 days in a row. I have been on WeightWatchers on plan for nearly 3 weeks. I am feeling good. I want to be thinner, but I don't want to be skinny.
Crush cannot stop:
"Your friend Lynn is skinny"
"Your sister is so skinny after 2 kids"
"Your cousin is skinny and has such toned arms"
"My mom wants you to try to set my brother up, but she says he only likes skinny girls."
Today shit hit the fan. While discussing my cousin above, he told me in passing "you are so much bigger than your cousin."
I am. She is 5'0" and I am 5'10". She is in a skinny phase of her life. She is under tremendous pressure. Crush doesn't know anything about her.
I went NUTS.
Because I have a feeling his mom is telling him that I am great and beautiful, but that I should lose weight, especially if we are to be married in the near future. I often have these delusional fantasies about my weight and what people say about it negatively....but, I can read Crush like an open book. I KNOW him. I also know how important thin is to his family and how his sister lost 40+ pounds for her wedding and in my opinion took it WAY WAY too far as she looked gorgeous before (and the excessive weight loss took away from her beauty) and I think she felt she needed to be the absolute skinniest she could EVER be, so no one could call her fat.....I know how it feels to be told that, "you have such a pretty face, BUT..." SUCKS!
I asked him directly about all the skinny stuff and why he can't stop commenting on it and he is hemming and hawing and said he loves me just the way I am which I believe.
The only thing Crush is guilty of is that he is a TOTAL momma's boy and his momma is an excellent person, but I think she was brought up in fear of being fat, so it is ingrained in her. Anything over skinny, so even normal weight, is fat to her. I have noticed that she talks about food, her weight, and other people's weight a lot. Crush has no idea about healthy food and unhealthy food. He is lucky he has such a great metabolism. He is clueless when it comes to diet and nutrition.
My fear isn't as much about me. I just don't want that skinny talk in my home, especially if we have daughters.
My Sissy fights it on the daily as her mother-in-law has food issues and is very particular with what my sister puts in her kids mouths...they once got in a fight because she didn't want Big Baby to have strawberries because they have sugar.....OY!
Nothing in life in perfect. Even the best ones have something. I think this will be our little struggle and I am staying firm and fat (ish)...literally.
Monday, April 29, 2013
6 CDs That I Continued To Repurchase When I Lost Them Until I Figured Out How To Use iTunes
Music is amazing to me. I know that is a really dumb statement. Duh, R&F....of course it is and probably to many people, too. Blanket statement here.
But, as I have mentioned before, I am just such a lover of music. I feel like a song AND a smell (not necessarily at the SAME time) has the power to take you back in time like nothing else. I LOVE IT. Music gives me hope like nothing else does. Allows me to escape and daydream. Music and books are what I need most to be happy (and ice cream, pizza, and massages, too).
Here are a few of my ABSOLUTE favorite CDs that will ALWAYS be in my music collection no matter what and where they take me when I listen to them.
1. Ella Fitzgerald Sings the Cole Porter Songbook: This CD is one I listen to often. In the car, when I need to daydream, and as a good background to work. Both of my parents grew up listening to show tunes and lots of Cole Porter. They exposed Sissy and me to musicals at a very young range and I am a huge fan of the old favorites (Cole Porter, Rodgers and Hammerstein, Irving Berlin, etc.): Guys and Dolls, Oklahoma, Annie Get Your Gun, Anything Goes....This CD will always take me back to my childhood. The songs remind me of my maternal grandmother. She danced with my papa to one of the songs on this very CD at her wedding over 75 years ago. Fun fact....Crush and I decided we want to dance to it, too, at our wedding one day as our first dance as a tribute to my Nana who I love and miss dearly. Crush is a good one, he loves family, too. He even agreed to take dance lessons with me, so we can dance real nice to it! Ella's voice is incredible. Smooth as silk. She transcended racial barriers because of her talent and articulates every word perfectly. This CD always makes me think how life has been here before I was. Some things: love, sex, drugs, booze, heartbreak...well....people have been living it forever.
2. James Taylor's Greatest Hits: My parents had this on a record when I was little. I remember listening to it while I played with my sister in the family room and my mom made us dinner. I am like my mom....I also LOVE cooking to music (I like to drink some wine, too!). As a preteen, I went to overnight camp and I remember singing these songs confidently around the campfire while eating s'mores. It was such a memorable time for me. I had such a strong sense of self until I was 14 and then as time went by, my confidence was chipped away bit by bit until this year. I was happy when I heard these songs, even if they were sad. They made me feel grownup and as the summers went by I began to understand the words differently. Little clue, I am moving to a place that Mr. Taylor says "he is going to in his mind...." and Crush always sings that song to me. He actually sounds a bit like James T! One day, Crush and I have a dream that we are going to have HUGE campfires at our little house with our families and I am going to provide laminated song sheets with many songs from this CD, just like camp! We are all going to make s'mores, and Crush will play the guitar (he is really good). I know I will feel just like that 12 year old girl again, but it will be even better because instead of wishing for my future, my dreams actually came true.
3. Ani DiFranco's Living in Clip: Sissy got me into Ani when I was in high school. Sissy was never popular in high school, but she was always so much cooler than me. She had a few artsy friends who were true best friends and they experienced life and all of the cool things you can do 25 miles outside of this suburb. Sissy knew the bars they let underagers into, how to take the train, and where all the best underground coffee shops, poetry slams, and concerts were. She got me into some bad habits, too....Smoking ciggies and pot...but, I will never take back the nights we cruised the beachfront in a beat up car listening to this CD and eating sour gummy candies while drinking Diet Mountain Dews. This CD is awesome. Ani is super talented, angry, confused, and sexually ripe. She is quentisential 90's girl rock, but so much better. Ani is bisexual and I remember going to her concert with Sissy at 15 and seeing life beyond my suburban walls......girls kissing, men holding hands....lots of love and acceptance and fun in one central space. ENERGY. DEFIANCE. A SUCK IT TO EVERYTHING OUTSIDE OF THE CONCERT WALLS. I was infactuated. I knew a bigger world existed and I wanted to be a part of it. It is angst, hope, and a big ole FUCK YOU in one fantastic collection.
4. Counting Crow's Across A Wire- Live in New York City: I bought this CD senior year of high school, but fell in love with it my freshman year of college. This is my favorite CD of all time. It takes me back to a time when I was SO SUPER lonely before I met my best friends in college right through getting drunk and stoned with them a few years later while listening to it all together. It reminds me of how college felt: alive, raw, sad, sexy, deep without knowing what the hell was going on, fun, and scary ALL at the same time. Pure poetry. By the way, Adam Duritz lives in an admitted alternate reality, so maybe that is what I liked his songs so much at the time....because I was living in my own alternate reality, too. I always wanted to make love to the blue CD....I know, totalally me and total over-share, but it was a fantasty of mine. When Crush and I first consumated our relationship...this is what I played and all of my 18 year old girl fantasies (came, not in a literal sense, just a figurative one...sorry....couldn't resist....) true. My favorite song of all time, is "Anna Begins" on the blue CD, track #9. This CD holds up, like most on my list. None of the CDs I recommended are new. But, this one to me, most of all, is pure poetry set to intoxicating music. I also LOVE piano incorporated into rock music. I just hate Ben Folds Five. I am weird like that.
5. Liz Phair Exile in Guyville: Another great girl CD. Liz Phair, old Liz Phair that is....is the exact CD you need to play when you are embracing your girl power or going through a break up. She is not the best singer and has epic stage fright, but there is something about her. Kinda like skinny-fat or ugly-pretty.....she is IT, in her own way. I like to think of myself this way, too. This is her debut album and in my opinion her best. She recorded it before any stardom or fame was a reality and it is just the perfect CD to dance naked to in front of the mirror when you are 17 (not like I have ever done that....hahahaha, OF COURSE I HAVE!)....Of course, Sissy introduced me to her and we once saw Liz in concert and it was a night I will always remember, because Liz never pretended to be the BEST singer, she didn't rely on anything other than what she had...her own talent that was so her. She went right up on stage and sang like she does and played the guitar and was INCREDIBLE...she didn't over compensate. She was earth shattering. Authentic and real. It changed my life. Best isn't the only way. Bring true can take the cake any day.
6. Eva Cassidy Live at Blues Alley: My parents introduced me to Eva Cassidy. They watched a segment about her years ago on ABC's Nightline (mentioned in her Wiki). If you haven't heard of Eva, it is because she passed away at 33 from melonoma in 1996. She never achieved real success during her lifetime, but she has gone on to become legendary. She was a bit before her time. She didn't want to be typecast as anything, but Eva. She wanted to be a folk, rock, gospel, blues, soul, jazz, and country singer all at the same time and the industry wasn't ready for her. You need to check her out. PLEASE. Her rendition of "What a Wonderful World" is my second favorite song of all time (after Anna Begins as I mentioned above). This live CD is my favorite out of all of her CDs (I tend to enjoy the sponanaity and range of live music as I judge REAL talent live) and covers all ranges of music, so a great CD to play at a party or while working. When you think that the world lost out on talent like this when she was only 33, it makes you realize that some things will never make sense......I cry like a baby to many of her songs. They are so pure, real, clear, and vivid.....when I hear her voice, especially around that time of the month....I tend to cry.
Happy Listening!!!!
But, as I have mentioned before, I am just such a lover of music. I feel like a song AND a smell (not necessarily at the SAME time) has the power to take you back in time like nothing else. I LOVE IT. Music gives me hope like nothing else does. Allows me to escape and daydream. Music and books are what I need most to be happy (and ice cream, pizza, and massages, too).
Here are a few of my ABSOLUTE favorite CDs that will ALWAYS be in my music collection no matter what and where they take me when I listen to them.
1. Ella Fitzgerald Sings the Cole Porter Songbook: This CD is one I listen to often. In the car, when I need to daydream, and as a good background to work. Both of my parents grew up listening to show tunes and lots of Cole Porter. They exposed Sissy and me to musicals at a very young range and I am a huge fan of the old favorites (Cole Porter, Rodgers and Hammerstein, Irving Berlin, etc.): Guys and Dolls, Oklahoma, Annie Get Your Gun, Anything Goes....This CD will always take me back to my childhood. The songs remind me of my maternal grandmother. She danced with my papa to one of the songs on this very CD at her wedding over 75 years ago. Fun fact....Crush and I decided we want to dance to it, too, at our wedding one day as our first dance as a tribute to my Nana who I love and miss dearly. Crush is a good one, he loves family, too. He even agreed to take dance lessons with me, so we can dance real nice to it! Ella's voice is incredible. Smooth as silk. She transcended racial barriers because of her talent and articulates every word perfectly. This CD always makes me think how life has been here before I was. Some things: love, sex, drugs, booze, heartbreak...well....people have been living it forever.
2. James Taylor's Greatest Hits: My parents had this on a record when I was little. I remember listening to it while I played with my sister in the family room and my mom made us dinner. I am like my mom....I also LOVE cooking to music (I like to drink some wine, too!). As a preteen, I went to overnight camp and I remember singing these songs confidently around the campfire while eating s'mores. It was such a memorable time for me. I had such a strong sense of self until I was 14 and then as time went by, my confidence was chipped away bit by bit until this year. I was happy when I heard these songs, even if they were sad. They made me feel grownup and as the summers went by I began to understand the words differently. Little clue, I am moving to a place that Mr. Taylor says "he is going to in his mind...." and Crush always sings that song to me. He actually sounds a bit like James T! One day, Crush and I have a dream that we are going to have HUGE campfires at our little house with our families and I am going to provide laminated song sheets with many songs from this CD, just like camp! We are all going to make s'mores, and Crush will play the guitar (he is really good). I know I will feel just like that 12 year old girl again, but it will be even better because instead of wishing for my future, my dreams actually came true.
3. Ani DiFranco's Living in Clip: Sissy got me into Ani when I was in high school. Sissy was never popular in high school, but she was always so much cooler than me. She had a few artsy friends who were true best friends and they experienced life and all of the cool things you can do 25 miles outside of this suburb. Sissy knew the bars they let underagers into, how to take the train, and where all the best underground coffee shops, poetry slams, and concerts were. She got me into some bad habits, too....Smoking ciggies and pot...but, I will never take back the nights we cruised the beachfront in a beat up car listening to this CD and eating sour gummy candies while drinking Diet Mountain Dews. This CD is awesome. Ani is super talented, angry, confused, and sexually ripe. She is quentisential 90's girl rock, but so much better. Ani is bisexual and I remember going to her concert with Sissy at 15 and seeing life beyond my suburban walls......girls kissing, men holding hands....lots of love and acceptance and fun in one central space. ENERGY. DEFIANCE. A SUCK IT TO EVERYTHING OUTSIDE OF THE CONCERT WALLS. I was infactuated. I knew a bigger world existed and I wanted to be a part of it. It is angst, hope, and a big ole FUCK YOU in one fantastic collection.
4. Counting Crow's Across A Wire- Live in New York City: I bought this CD senior year of high school, but fell in love with it my freshman year of college. This is my favorite CD of all time. It takes me back to a time when I was SO SUPER lonely before I met my best friends in college right through getting drunk and stoned with them a few years later while listening to it all together. It reminds me of how college felt: alive, raw, sad, sexy, deep without knowing what the hell was going on, fun, and scary ALL at the same time. Pure poetry. By the way, Adam Duritz lives in an admitted alternate reality, so maybe that is what I liked his songs so much at the time....because I was living in my own alternate reality, too. I always wanted to make love to the blue CD....I know, totalally me and total over-share, but it was a fantasty of mine. When Crush and I first consumated our relationship...this is what I played and all of my 18 year old girl fantasies (came, not in a literal sense, just a figurative one...sorry....couldn't resist....) true. My favorite song of all time, is "Anna Begins" on the blue CD, track #9. This CD holds up, like most on my list. None of the CDs I recommended are new. But, this one to me, most of all, is pure poetry set to intoxicating music. I also LOVE piano incorporated into rock music. I just hate Ben Folds Five. I am weird like that.
5. Liz Phair Exile in Guyville: Another great girl CD. Liz Phair, old Liz Phair that is....is the exact CD you need to play when you are embracing your girl power or going through a break up. She is not the best singer and has epic stage fright, but there is something about her. Kinda like skinny-fat or ugly-pretty.....she is IT, in her own way. I like to think of myself this way, too. This is her debut album and in my opinion her best. She recorded it before any stardom or fame was a reality and it is just the perfect CD to dance naked to in front of the mirror when you are 17 (not like I have ever done that....hahahaha, OF COURSE I HAVE!)....Of course, Sissy introduced me to her and we once saw Liz in concert and it was a night I will always remember, because Liz never pretended to be the BEST singer, she didn't rely on anything other than what she had...her own talent that was so her. She went right up on stage and sang like she does and played the guitar and was INCREDIBLE...she didn't over compensate. She was earth shattering. Authentic and real. It changed my life. Best isn't the only way. Bring true can take the cake any day.
6. Eva Cassidy Live at Blues Alley: My parents introduced me to Eva Cassidy. They watched a segment about her years ago on ABC's Nightline (mentioned in her Wiki). If you haven't heard of Eva, it is because she passed away at 33 from melonoma in 1996. She never achieved real success during her lifetime, but she has gone on to become legendary. She was a bit before her time. She didn't want to be typecast as anything, but Eva. She wanted to be a folk, rock, gospel, blues, soul, jazz, and country singer all at the same time and the industry wasn't ready for her. You need to check her out. PLEASE. Her rendition of "What a Wonderful World" is my second favorite song of all time (after Anna Begins as I mentioned above). This live CD is my favorite out of all of her CDs (I tend to enjoy the sponanaity and range of live music as I judge REAL talent live) and covers all ranges of music, so a great CD to play at a party or while working. When you think that the world lost out on talent like this when she was only 33, it makes you realize that some things will never make sense......I cry like a baby to many of her songs. They are so pure, real, clear, and vivid.....when I hear her voice, especially around that time of the month....I tend to cry.
Happy Listening!!!!
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