Scorned much

Never one am I to sit and bawl my eyes out for an extended amount of time. Given the specific occasion and amount of Xanax, it’s all under control… I cry, mull whatever needs to be mulled over and move on for bigger and better things. The talk of men is a constant topic of conversation because I am single and mingle more than I care to admit. Dating is a natural part of my life right now. It may get run to the ground or laughed to high hell in conversations, but the stories of so many jackass (s) guys are others’ way of living through my embarrassment. Or laughter … we don’t have to put it down too harshly today!

As much as we want to not open up about things in fear of a jinx, it happened; I started talking with someone. We had been talking for a while as friends and right in the middle of phone calls and ongoing text messages, a little bit of warmth cradled my icy heart. Not so much icy, but more of a detoxed and oh-so-chilled heart indeed. With the way things were progressing with this person, it was easy to get ahead of myself. I mean, for someone who is calling you on Christmas, throughout your day, calling at an ungodly hour because they feel like hell and just want to hear you talk. How could you not?

I got ahead of myself. A phrase in the back of my mind that always stays there regardless of the optimism, ‘He’s just not that into you’ was silenced with this one. Despite his annoying antics of going missing for a few days, a week or whatever without a peep. Excuses flew out of my mouth with those absences, defending his time as busy. I got ahead of myself big-time. This guy had gone on the typical ‘hectic week, so you won’t hear from me’ lapses. I called, nothing. Text; again with the no responses. It seemed odd because before he would pick up quickly, but something wasn’t right for those attempts. When I saw a random picture and posting on Facebook, I knew that he was at least alive so I decided enough was enough. I’d give the guy a month, a month of me doing absolutely nothing to reach out to him in order to know where I stood and then delete him from everything if I didn’t hear a sound. Maybelline says I’m worth it, so it must be true.

A few drinks later and a surge of liquid confidence fueling me, I cracked a few weeks in, calling him and got nowhere yet again. Pushing aside that I can typically take the hint of when to let go, but with him it was different—or so I thought. Finally after coming to grips that this was all for nothing and a waste of time, I deleted every form of contact with him, bawled my eyes out and sent a final text before removing his phone number for good. We all need some kind of closure, I mean, I may have gotten ahead of myself yes; with him it was easy to do. It wasn’t some pining and crazy message, but more of a simple way to saying goodbye. It’s the girl in me and the good soul who hates doing wrong by someone even if I didn’t do anything at all.

Come to find out that on the day of romance, Valentine’s Day of all days … I was duped. Played by the master manipulator.

That guy, had been talking to multiple ladies—and I was one of them. Some unknown devil prodded me, and I can’t believe I’m admitting to looking at his profile, but I did. Shameful, I know—it was not my finest hour. As it turns out, another scorned lady pulled a Glenn Close on him and posted something that resonated deep. The same words I considered saying in a cryptic text, but am far too nice to say aloud. Surprise, surprise right? Deep down another bad boy that tried to appear as one of the good ones. Oddly, I’m not even bothered. What goes around comes around ten-fold. I know and believe this with every ounce of my body. He was another unwanted pick in the litter and is going straight to the trash. And that is okay.

So then where does this take me? Back to the drawing board, and on to the prospect of meeting someone new. It’s a highly laughable situation, and God only knows why I keep putting myself through some of these dating triangles, but with utmost certainty—this guy completely pulled me in and I, like many, fell for the kill. Despite all of the bullshit whether it be good or insane we go through with the excitement, the lust and definitely the heartache… it’s still a battlefield to tread lightly over until you’ve found a good and very safe ground. Tired of meddling, but still living each day with a take no prisoners mentality … this was merely one more experience to take in. One more guy to avoid. So until the next one rolls around, I’m dabbing on the glittery eye shadow and keeping on … keeping on.

Love is a battlefield, I certainly guess so. Thanks Pat Benatar for reminding me!

There are times when all it takes is faith

With all of the commotion in the greater United States and mostly within the National Football League about faith, the subject matter is bound to creep up into your mind. Consider the formalities and the justifications of all of the actions that we as people go through. Not normally am I one to sit down with a cup of coffee and begin a conversation regarding politics or religion. This is a topic that has been quite absent for this space and for the most part I would like to keep it that way. It’s not that I do not pay close attention to politics, but there is a time and a place; and this is not that place.

However, there are grey areas to every single situation. Every argument, every celebration. Many choose to rant about having an open and optimistic view on faith; while others curse it and say that it is entirely just a fad for close attention. When I think about the latter, it only makes me wonder about what is going on with that individual to say such a comment.

Having faith is something that lies within every single person. Whether you like it or not, there is an ounce or a pound of it somewhere in the depth of your being. In times of dire need or desperation, many people close their eyes and wish for something great and wonderful to help them out. They have faith in the form of a positive outlook that something is coming their way. That something could come their way if they were susceptible.

I was talking with a friend the other day and she was so hopeful about an instance in her life, once someone else posed a statement questioning her belief; her confidence dissipated. It was as if the light faded and her hopes and excitement washed away in the chilled river rush. Almost carrying her wants and desire out to sea. My heart went out to her because we have all had those moments where we lose sight of that ‘faith,’ so to speak in those times.

Not only thinking about her, but it brought that natural urge deep down in my own body to keep the faith about many things that are potentially breaking through. Despite the raging economy, and the fact that I am constantly frustrated over work that is underrated—it is merely a small piece to the puzzle in the grander scale of life. If keeping the faith about the hopes and wants gives us a little gratification or independent support that we need to get by, where is the harm?

There is no harm, and that is the whole point. By showing your allegiance, it proves that you believe that you can achieve something. You can achieve whatever it is you are seeking in that moment or day, week, year, etc. All because you know deep down, by believing in yourself and the people around you—there will always be a sort of reward. Whether it be in the form of a thank you or a new house, that falls into what it is you are thinking about. There is no category to directly link each label into.

While this all started out with more never ending ramblings that are a constant within me, it’s really just about keeping the faith that I will eventually get out of this hell hole that I am currently stuck in. Which, sooner rather than later would be much appreciated. But in all seriousness, I am keeping true to my own inner beliefs and staying positive to what good can come of this day. A phone call from the planetarium in the city possibly? An email from an agent in regards to a potential contract? Or maybe, just maybe another gorgeous snowfall that reminds me to appreciate every single morning-day-and night.

Only time will tell. Even so, between now and forever, I choose to still keep the faith.

The break-up plan

With resolutions flying out of everyone’s mouth like the F word, it is almost inevitable to make a few changes. Why not start at the start of a calendar year and work your way onward. Day by day. Month by month. Or let’s face it, hour by hour.

Because honestly, if someone said give up text messaging--that alone would be on an hourly timeframe. Sadly I’ve hit that point where the phone is somewhat connected and calendars are filling. It’s a busy time.

Instead of creating these crazy lists about having to lose such and such amount of poundage and strut this body like Giselle. Or better yet, aim to save one million pennies for a down payment—or installment on property taxes. Pushing the holiday bulge and the budget aside, I’m mixing it up a bit this year.

A resolution (s) in the form of a break-up plan.

It’s easy. Painless. Completely guilt free. Hopefully.

We all have good habits and also bad habits that we tend to mull over more. This isn’t about mulling, or swearing to do something and letting it all fall to the backburner because the rebel in us says forget about it.

Resolutions tend to bug me in general because it strikes a red flag that somewhere in my mind gets short circuited and rather than saying, ‘Okay, we aren’t going to do that right?’ It’s says, ‘Forget that, that promise is moot-pass the wine.’

But I must digress that statement because that is just me. Some people are great with resolutions and that is fabulous.

For right now, because it’s not really a resolution it’s just a statement….I am breaking up with a few things because it needs to happen. It’s for a better day, a happier person. Or maybe it’s out of boredom because the morning is quiet and the sun is keeping me cheery. In any case, er goes.

DIET COKE – you are a bastard and god only knows how you have made it into my diet over the past few weeks. The sugary duds are bidding farewell.

JEANS – This is debatable. As much as I don’t wear you unless it’s a day for loafing, it’s time to keep to the leggings and dresses.

SNACKY TREATS – It’s about to get orange in here. Carrots are getting back on the plan. Cookies you are OUT.

WORK – I’m breaking up with YOU…as soon as a certain group has an offer--which is in the forecast.

BLACKBERRY – iphone or bust.

INNER-NOMAD – Building roots is far more important than moving on the fly. Please brain stop sending mixed visions of Manhattan and Toronto. Thanks much.

DRUNKEN CALL/TEXTS – I seriously doubt he thinks they are fun. Interesting, but not fun at 3am. And why do I answer them when they come my way? Either way—they are out.

….leaving the biggest for last

GIRLY BEHAVIOR [aka self-doubt] – This is being pitched on so many different levels. I am breaking up with eyeing of the telephone waiting for that message to come through. Texting him when he should be the one texting me. Forget that, I wouldn’t do that with a friend so I’m breaking up with that on edge feeling. He will call, as if we didn’t already know that. It's the behavior that I loathe most and cannot believe it has taken up shop in the recesses of my mind. But, as I am a woman--it was bound to happen at some point.

And so that is where it all lays out for now. A master plan that isn’t really a plan at all. It’s merely a statement of letting go. Letting go of a carbolicious drink that seriously needed the boot in the first place to set a reminder in my planner for messaging someone for getting the ball rolling with that job. Simple, silly little things that creep up and we don’t realize are a part of our daily routines. For now, it’s time to get on that detour curbing any inclinations to fall back to these habits and get on with it.

As I sit in jeans and riding boots. Hmm, fashion forward.

Cheers to a new year!

Happiness is a journey not a destination

With the year rapidly approaching an end and a new set of months filled with unknown possibilities is about to begin, it comes the time to sit back and sort of take in everything that has happened over the past three hundred and sixty five days. It’s almost when you say it out loud that you realize that is a lot of days of change, of happiness, sadness, excitement, frustration, advancement, travel….

This has been one of those years where sitting here now it is easy to look at life as anything but a journey. Each day filled with anything and everything that can only add to the beauty that is where a day can take us. There has been such stress on certain things that looking back now, is completely laughable. It created time wasted, weeks and even months filled with worry of personal upset or confused about how to move forward. Life and chance opportunities were masked in that worry. Some of the concern and hours of lost sleep turned into unexpected meetings with people, conversations of a lifetime and even a glance at how perfectly fitting and precious every single moment is.

Rather than being a time of reflection, it has been months of enlightenment. It’s funny how you know deep within your bones when something goes right. Every ounce of you tells you that once you have made a step in that direction, everything will work out.

So much is going on around that it is hard sometimes to take a step back and breathe. Taking a moment to soak in that breath of fresh air that fills your lungs with such joy and fulfillment. That is where today is. That is where I am right now. Which feels like a phrase that has been run to the ground, but it is the truth.

This year has been everything and then some. There have been so many ups and downs, but it is through each that a positive doubly outweighs the negatives. And there aren’t really any negatives at all, for they have all been part of the process. They may have been roadblocks at the time, but have done nothing but add depth to that day, to that moment. They have added a sense or level of character that is unmistakable.

As the days are passing, they do not seem like days anymore. They are merely parts to a puzzle that I am anxious to piece together when the time is right. For now, the pieces are all blending together on the carpet in front of a fireplace fully lit (yet still ornamental) like a sea of notes. They are the notes of a lifetime.

So from surviving a snowstorm that got a booty shakin’, listening to a calling and following the gut with a natural gift, to letting go and being free of any personal limitations; this has truly been a year. A year that wouldn’t get traded for anything. Sure there were days where I have to laugh and say, ‘what the fuck was I thinking?’ But in the end, it’s simple and easy. I was thinking…

‘it was pretty fucking hilarious at the time, so why the hell not?’

Cheers to your life, where you have gone and where you continue to go and grow within. Own what you do and where you are.

Ch-ch-ch-changes….

As much as I would love to start singing to my ever constant girl-crush of David Bowie, this is not that time. Nor is this the place for my voice to break any windows in the vicinity. For the first time in probably my whole life, the need to flee, runaway…move--is not pressing in. Usually every few months the urge to jet set and get away or start fresh begins to creep up my neck. It starts with the little notices in magazines or in television shows, my eyes pinpoint a destination and I crave to go. That craving turns to yearning, which turns into the impulse to get out of town. And move.

Why this happens, I honestly do not know. Maybe it stems from wanting to explore the world, maybe it’s a fear of staying in one place to actually build roots? Either way, this particular urge hasn’t hit me but others that lead up to it have. In one of the many daily reads, I came across an incredible article about how someone’s life changes drastically once they have made a serious life ‘alteration.’ I couldn’t help but see the truth in this statement. Since dropping everything and moving east, it has forced me to really break out and live according to the day. The moment.

After an incident the other night, something happened that felt like a splash of cold water in my face, waking me up from a deep haze I apparently had fallen into. Forcing me to really see someone. That spontaneous person who always challenged herself; the one who decided to bartend only because she wanted to learn how to make one specific cocktail. The same lady who gave up early education as a major and chose Cinema—just because.

I need a change. That rich trait is something that is so comforting, so near and dear to my soul. With the weather shifting into the winter months, there certainly can be no time wasted by sitting on my rump and baking cookies—despite how delicious they are. Well, that is an understatement. Baking cookies for a cookie exchange—well now that is completely okay in my books.

Yesterday, I called out of work. This is something I rarely ever do. Not because I was sick, but because I wanted to take the day and plan. Evaluate and Tackle. Music got turned on, the medusa wave didn’t get straightened, lululemon and I were best friends. As I was putting a picture away, crumpled up in the corner of a box was a sheet of paper that I had filled out years ago. On it was a running list of all the things I had been wanting to do. A wishlist.

I curled up on the floor next to my bed and skimmed through it and immediately started crying. -Buy Flowers weekly (done) -Send cards out to friends regularly (done) -Train for a marathon (done) -Move to Chicago or NYC (done) -Buy a flat in Paris (still wishing) -Get a Kitchenaid (done)

With the exception of about three (out of more than one hundred) everything was something that over the course of four years was accomplished. I stared in disbelief, shock and awe.

Where did that woman go? Who was always rushing to do something wild and crazy? She got drunk. But in all seriousness, reading that sheet of paper brought back that warm feeling that this lady needs a list. And that list is not getting crumpled up and tossed into a box like a time capsule. No, it’s going straight onto the calendar, or is being turned around into registration forms for classes on god only knows what.

Here I was slowly beginning to get nervous about the winter months and turning into a hermit, but that is not the case. These changes are coming hard and they’re coming fast, the days are getting filled with yoga and floral arrangement courses. Classes on how to do facial make-up so we don’t look like hot tranny messes to others that coach you through ‘Doing him, Dumping Him or Dating Him.’ Secretly, openly here, I’m excited for this one.

So in the light of Mr. Bowie, even though that song doesn’t even come close to meaning the same thing….I’m making some changes and getting some fun out of life.

Sexy Sunday....

Taking in a Sunday has always been part of some of life’s more decadent things. Things that don’t really get done when you’re fussing about during the working week, escorting kids from school to sports or dance, arranging meetups with girlfriends that you haven’t seen in four days…

It’s the little things that for a few short minutes, take us away and make us feel ultimately sexy. I love this. I am first to admit, Sundays are bonafide ‘Days of Luxury.’ This is no secret, so to devote a posting each week in response to this day, well it seems pretty damn fitting. To begin this, I thought really hard about some of the things that I do to primp and prune. Spruce to sexify, all to add a little extra bounce in a typically upbeat strut. So many ideas came to mind and for this week, it’s an obvious.

Manis and Pedis

How can anyone deny the time it takes to have your nails doted on to perfectly vanished perfection? It’s a hard one to debate. Imagine going into a nail salon for a pedicure, you walk in and are served champagne, ushered to a giant massaging chair and a bath of warm water that has floating petals. For that short period of time you can let loose and just relax. Forget about remembering to transfer funds from one account to the next covering the mortgage. Nope, not there. The atmosphere doesn’t allow it, the massaging of your calves won’t even suggest a glimmer of a thought of anything but silence.

What is it about having freshly painted toenails, whether it be the darker hues of the winter months or the neon (s) and bright pink (s) for the heated summertime? The first time I went and had a pedicure, I about died. I was that nervous nelly that looked like a deer in headlights. You want to dip my feet in what? Why are you massaging my back when my gnarly toes need a touch up?

Oh, but I would like another glass of champagne though. Oh that color looks good with my eyes, you think matching sets for my fingernails too?

Hook. Lined. Sunk.

{HAND JOB, San Francisco, CA}

Now, I am more of a pedi type of a lady and will always be the one shooting out text messages for a ladies day get together at a nail salon. It’s basically like meeting up with friends at a bar or getting coffee, only you’re being pampered in a different sort of way. Rather than indulging on the caffeine or that extra cocktail for the week-the budget gets forgone and you leave a salon feeling like a million dollars. A very sexy million dollars.

My latest obsession is Shellac. It’s an incredible process that allows the polish to last for several weeks. Imagine that! While your toes are rubbing in the boots (because lets state the obvious-it’s now boot season) the polish is staying nice and shiny. Perfectly un-touched. Slinking away for a manicure and pedicure is an instant mood booster, de-stressor and automatic given for making you feel a little more confident about what’s going on inside of the socks.

Staying in or going out, Sundays are a day for anything. And for this lady, it means to head out for an appointment in a couple of hours. With the cooler air, the deep purples with a touch of shattered glass are in the forecast.

Are you craving an appointment yet?

Grabbing a bull by its horns with a leaking black pen

There are some days where I feel as if I am planning for something more than I am actually doing things. Then there are other days where I am living minute by minute thinking to myself, 'What plan?'

I don't really know what exactly it is, or why I do this but somewhere every couple of weeks, months or yearly I stalk out a park or coffee shop, sit with an ulcer induced cup of potent coffee and start evaluating. Call it boredom, self critiquing, whatever it is, its a distraction.

A pro and con list for major aspects gets written up and from there (and a pot of coffee) a game plan is devised.

The yearlies have always resulted in relocations, which thankfully that itch is nowhere near a place to be scratched. All others fall in the likes of anything else in the means of self improvement and releasing any ties of holding negative thoughts and wishes, I chose to spend a day doing just this.

After several hours in, and mindless writing I stared blankly at the lists and noticed much repetition. There was a common theme, and after snapping out of a caffeine induced coma I breathed in a deep sigh and dug out a fresh piece of paper only to go nowhere.

The theme is bold, and so very typical.

Things are not as they seem, well how can I turn them around so all objectives are beneficial. How can these things be all that they seem and more.

How can I get them done. Its time to get 'er done.

Its finally beginning to feel like Spring in the area so every night after work I'm walking along the river and maybe venturing out to the prairies to jog (run Morgan run...on flat surfaces). Let's get physical...again!

Work is not what it was cracked out to be and settling just isn't going to fly. I want the city so that's what I'm going to get. Let the job search commence yet again.

Self publication is the means for now, and with that means getting passed the worry and actually publish out independently. A personal deadline was created and its really going to happen. Its time to invest in photoshop for graphic design help-shit.

Fitness, cooking, art etc classes are going to be this girls best friend for the next several months until I figure financing a Masters Program. I like the friends I've made thus far but know more are always welcome. And why not learn something along the way.

I want to be courted for a change and with that means I've got to step up and step out more than I already do. The online jag failed epicly by distractions. Emotionally I was miserable and needed to clear the air. That and I was all too focused about turning thirty and being SCH: single, childless and a non-homeowner. All that still looms but is not as strong, I'm going about each day being my normal carefree self and am living without forcing.

I'm tired of waiting and am taking matters into my own hands as it always should have been, always has been but slipped slightly. There's no real plan at all, looking back at previous 'plans' they've all come through almost brilliantly but were too precise. Too methodical, for this its just about keeping busy, keeping away from nagging thoughts and just breathing.

You are

You are an open soul
A melding of passion and spirit
Of hope and triumphant truths

You are beautiful in this sense
A sagacity that engages and welcomes

Your beauty is transparent and shines with every breath
Through commotion it never falters but expands with the wind

Your heart is unlocked and beats harmonically with each step
It beats without fear but with hope

Through your open soul there are a thousand joys
These joys shape and create the warm heart
Your kindness spreads this warmth and creates the passion

You are everything you knew you could be

{Courtesy of Google}

A little something different for this Friday after a few days of clearing the mind, body and soul. Have a lovely day and remember you are worth it, even if it means taking a nibble out of that chocolate bar!