amanda astounded

Roller. Derby. Yep.

2011-12-13T17:47:00.000-08:00

I went to my first roller derby practice today. It was completely insane to realize how out of shape, slow, and graceless I am these days.
I did my best though, and I'm going back for more Saturday morning.
It's a new team, a start-up, so thankfully I am in good company with the not knowing what to do. I only fell once. Aside from the times we were supposed to fall. Which I did not rock at.
It was fun, it was tiring, the girls were super nice, and I have a feeling my legs are going to look amazeballs after this really gets going.
I bought my skates, pads, helmet and mouthguard today, and I am excited to get back out there and do better.
While being totally cute, by the way.
Derby is a sport where the women are expected to be tough, rough, and crazy hot. DELIGHT!

Gorgeously stressful!

2011-11-26T18:32:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving is a HUGE deal in my family--it's basically a yearly family reunion of all the parents, cousins, spouses and kids on my momma's side of the family.
Two days. 50-plus people. Seven cabins.
It is a recipe for disaster, but it is most un-disastrous.
I brought my manfriend for his first family event of this size.
To say he was moderately nervous is a most egregious understatement.
He was sick to his stomach for about 24 total hours.
I had never really looked at my family from the outside before, but whoa.
We are intimidating! A bunch of chatty, nosy, overly energetic people with multiple kids who will pepper you with questions about your life as a whole until you actually imagine running away into the hills of North Georgia to take your chances with hillbillies and black bears.
Let's just say I love it, but it takes a special person to marry into it.
Hopefully my sweetheart is man enough.

The saddest story of my life, still.

2011-11-21T17:37:00.000-08:00

When I was 13, I met Katie. She was a completely hopeless nerdy mess, the only girl in a family of Mormons, babied and petted and called Princess.
I was the daughter of a single mother with a younger brother, lost and rebellious and risk-taking. My father was absentee. Still is.
Katie's family lived in a nicer neighborhood. We lived in a smaller one. She was brick, I was wood siding.
We became fast friends, despite our differences, and we would spend weekends at her house, sneaking in my Guns N' Roses tapes and sneaking out the back door to visit other kids and sometimes our boyfriends in the park close by.
Most of my young life was spent with this person. We had nicknames, we cried when Kurt Cobain died, we told each other everything.
If we fast-forwarded the memories to where we could only see the actions, not the words, as they passed by over those 14 years of friendship, we would notice two things happening.
1. Amanda was not picking the best men, but was a motivated student and a fearless adventurer. her family life only enhanced that.
2. Katie was waiting to be saved by Prince Charming. She was the damsel in distress, perpetually, and her family life only enhanced that.
And as I sit here, 31 years old, with my dog, in another new town, in another eccentric and charming apartment, with another boyfriend a phone call away, focused on my schoolwork and worrying about my personal future, she is married.
She married a man when we were 27. She had dated a few men, all of whom she would have married had they only asked. Catholic, Catholic, Muslim.
The Muslim Egyptian older divorced-with-two-kids man from our office won her heart, likely due in no small part to our hour-long Q&A sessions where he learned all there was to know of her. How to best make her happy, what she wanted from life, who she was. He was so sly. I thought we were friends. And on he went, wooing and sweeping her away.
And the Muslim man won. And Katie converted to Islam. I did my duty as a friend and took her to coffee to make sure this was what she wanted. She said it was.
I went to her wedding with my parents, but wasn't allowed in because I am not Muslim. I celebrated her marriage at the reception, as I knew I always would. But she seemed to drift away over the following weeks.
I pursued her with the innocence that only true youthful friendships can have--I could not fathom a life where Katie and I weren't friends. Best friends. Why would we not be? I thought she was just newly married, and was letting her get acclimated to her new life.
And inside of a year of the beginning of their relationship, we were no longer friends. I never knew what hit me.
I received a letter two years after she left me, so to speak, outlining why she had basically divorced me as her person.
I was a bad influence on children, I had hit on her husband, I had always been envious of her, I was someone who wanted to take everyone's boyfriends.
The assault was so painful, so violating. She took me, twisted and ruined me, and threw that offensive mess back at me as though it were real. And I assure you, it was not. I have made my mistakes, but not those.
I read, I re-read. And shared it with my other closest friends. I pondered and wondered and looked inward. I questioned myself to the core.
After all, if my closest friend would say those things, they must have some truth, some validity. Right?
Days turned weeks, and soon seasons had passed and I waited to find the words to say.
I never justified her with a response. I knew those views weren't hers, because they only came out after she married that man. That man who had used me to win her heart, and then kicked me out for not being a safe, married woman, maybe for not being Muslim. For being the one who had been there for her all those years--there was no room for me in his world.
Strangely, another dear friend came on at that same company, where we all worked, where they met, where I shortly after their marriage had left. Katie would greet my friend, whom she knew through me from college, as though they didn't both know me, as though my friend didn't know how deeply hurt I was. We would discuss it with utter disbelief at her callousness.
She is still married. I check in on her by Google sometimes, I search her name. I wonder about her. She is my long-lost love, in a way.
I truly think that her betrayal, her unkindness and abandonment of our long-nutured friendship, has changed me.
I never thought I would not know what was going on in her life, who she had become, but here I am, writing about her, four years later.
You never know what can happen in a deeply entwined relationship. And I still don't know if I wish her well.

Google Rolling Dog Farm. Or click my link, seen here. Ahem. Do it.

2011-11-20T16:21:00.000-08:00

Rolling Dog Farm--my newest idols.

These people saved up, bought land, and run a farm where rescued and disabled animals go to spend their lives.

THIS IS WHO I WANT TO BE.

This is how I will spend my days, someday.

I am strongly considering...

2011-11-20T13:48:00.001-08:00

Learning to ride a motorcycle. How rad would I be then?! All mah hairs blowing in the wind... Feeling every turn and breeze and curve as I swoosh across the world. Sigh. What would my mother say?

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.1

And just in case you need an audible upper...

2011-11-20T12:13:00.001-08:00

It can all change in the twinkle of a year.

2011-11-20T11:57:00.000-08:00

It has been more than a year since I posted here...so much has changed.
Like you do, I reviewed old posts to see where I was in life when I last posted, and it was pretty insane.
Let's play a game called UPDATE, shall?

1. I had fallen hard for, and thusly broken up with, that divorced guy with the cute kid.
UPDATE! That divorced guy and I never talked again, contrary to what he had said (are you as surprised as me:)) and he MARRIED A GIRL FROM MY HOMETOWN LAST WEEKEND. About 1.5 years post-breakup. They are building a house, and now share a home with their respective children. Giggle giggle.

2. My friend Adam and I had both been dating other people, and had a great friendship where we helped each other with dating, and hung out with movies.
UPDATE! Adam and I are now deeply in love, have been dating a year in December, and just spend this weekend with our respective dogs curled up at home cooking and playing Super Mario 3. Triple giggle.

3. I was bummed about not having a decent career or plan for one, was perpetually broke and feeling down on me, living in Atlanta, and not feeling the future was bright enough for shades.
UPDATE! I am still pretty broke, but I after a year or taking prequisite courses in Anatomy, etc., starting last September, I am now at the end of my first semester of Radiology Tech school in Macon, with 1.5 years to go... When I am done, I will be a Registered Technologist in Radiography. Cue the plethora of diabolical giggles.

So, the moral of this story? Try not to take it all too seriously, because it can all change in the twinkle of a year. I look forward to sharing my experiences in school, this relationship, this new little town. I will also probably start adding in things that I hope to have in my life--both big and small. From a hammock to a new car, from a fun craft to a faraway trip, great music and great reads.

Endings.

2010-05-26T11:55:00.000-07:00

After a lot of thought, observation, and gut-checking, I ended my deep but short relationship with my now ex today.
He is a really great guy, and I still think that.
I ended this because it became clear that with all his other stressors--the daughter (and thusly the ex-wife), the house to try to get on the market, the management role at a small firm... I came last.
It wasn't that he was mean or treated me poorly. It was that he didn't reciprocate my attention and love because he was always somewhere else in his head.
I decided that I am 30, and it is time to be selfish with myself.
As much as I adored this guy, he wasn't meeting my needs, and that just won't do anymore.
Possibly, according to him, we will do this again in the future. Not any time soon though.
And not if he doesn't really earn it.

I like answering questions. So here.

2010-05-21T21:33:00.000-07:00

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
Yes, my Aunt Martha, the older sister closest to my mom in age. They shared a room growing up.
2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
Tuesday. Not telling which Tuesday.
3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
Eh. If I take my time, yes. If I don't, it looks like my mom's which I swear I can't read.
4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Roasted Chicken.
5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
I do not. I have a dog. Sort of like a perpetual toddler.
6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
Yes. I am a fantastic listener, very sensitive, and love cocktails. Plus, I am funny. Ahem.
7. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT?
No, never. I never use the highest of all forms of humor. Ever. Clearly.
8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
Yes...unless you took them. Did you take them!?
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
Yes. I like the concept of flying, in any capacity.
10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?
I heart Shredded Wheat.
11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
Nope, I force my feet painfully out of them, then get annoyed when they aren't untied when I go to put them on again.
12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG?
Yes. I am strong physically and mostly emotionally as well.
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?
Anything with caramel weaved in, or something with cherries or strawberries.
14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
If their eyes seem kind. I can tell immediately what type you are by the light, or lack thereof, in your eyes.
15. RED OR PINK?
Red when I need to feel tougher or sexier, pink when I am being my normal girly self.
16. WHAT IS THE WEATHER LIKE OUTSIDE?
Slightly breezy and humid.
17. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE DRINK?
Cherry CoCola.
18. WHAT COLOR SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
None. In my pjs.
19. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
Huh. Baked beans from the work cafeteria. Cause that's safe.
20. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
Aesop Rock--Labor Days
21. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Grass green or hot pink.
22. FAVORITE SMELLS?
The air before it rains in Georgia, puppy breath, my man's neck.
23. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
The delightful and amazing Lona Panter (iamthatmommy.wordpress.com)
24. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
College football
27. Hair Color?
Dark brown with auburn highlights
28. EYE COLOR?
Dark warm brown.
29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
Nerp.
30. FAVORITE FOOD?
Sushi or Greek. Or big fat Italian garlicky rolls. OMG.
31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
I like love. Show me the love.

32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
Made it through 1/3 of The Devil's Rejects. NO, I don't know why I did that.
33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
Green sleeping T.
34. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Winter. I love the icy, snowy whiteness.
35. HUGS OR KISSES?
I love a good kiss.
36. Car or truck?
I drive a Mustang, but really want an SUV.
39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
"Saving America"

40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
I don’t have a mouse on my laptop …
41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT?
The season finale of V!

42. FAVORITE SOUND?
Crickets and frogs chirping in the Southern night. Love love love.
43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?
Paint It Black v. Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds...can't choose.
44. WHERE DO YOU WANT TO GO TO NEXT?
Wherever the water is.

45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
I can read people. Easily and correctly.
46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
Davenport, Iowa.

That is all.

Humbled beyond what is necessary.

2010-04-24T16:14:00.000-07:00

I have officially been out of "real work" for 14 months.
FOURTEEN months.
Fourteen months since I made enough to pay my way, since I was investing in my retirement, since I was confident about my career abilities, since I worked at a job where I actually earned respect and made decisions.
I have held my head up and done my best to earn money, working miles below my potential and a million times lower than I have been in almost 8 years.
I have been reduced in financial ability, personal growth, confidence levels, responsibilities.
Since I was young I have done what was expected of a bright, well-rounded girl...I have made the grades necessary to move forward, go to college, graduate, get a job.
I have held, ironically, the same job I now have as a 30-year-old college grad with 7 years work experience as a I held at 20 years old.
I have been working for 16 years. I have always tried. I may have failed, faltered, floundered.
But I have always tried.
And now, somehow, I find myself unable to get a better job.
I have been rejected by administrative positions, sales positions, marketing positions, writing positions...
I have applied to jobs I am actually two or three levels above based on my work experience.
I go to work at this restaurant, best smile and attitude ready to go, but no matter how positive I stay, it is always so clear within an hour of being there how low on the totem pole I have fallen.
By simply doing my job, apparently too well and at the wrong time, I have had my head bitten off and regurgitated on my shoes by servers, chefs, managers.
I am no one now...I have never cared about status, or rank, or position. I am a team player.
But now, I see that my survival job has given my coworkers the impression that I am a slacker, that I have no education, no job experience, no goals, have never held a management role.
It actually causes me pain to realize that I have nothing to say for myself right now. I am not impressive, not even to myself.
And it is through no fault of my own. I simply got laid off. I have been humbled and yet was never arrogant. I am suffering in a way that I always thought was reserved for people who treat others poorly and snake their way into great careers. I did NOTHING wrong.
I have no idea what is happening.
And now, I am losing my grip. I am losing my motivation, and possibly my mind.

Bigger than big.

2010-03-15T18:23:00.000-07:00

I am officially in my 30s...and I met a new man.
He is really smart, funny, and handsome.
He is also a divorced dad of a really cute (according to photos) little girl.
I realized this would be something I encountered more often as I got older, but I didn't expect to be OK with it.
So far, he is doing a wonderful job of making time to get to know me, while fulfilling his duties as a daddy.
I really admire, to a degree I can't explain, a man who loves his child and makes her a priority.
As someone whose father didn't make nearly that much effort after the divorce, I find it almost sexy that he does.
I am trying to take this slow...really really slow...because I really like him and I know that this situation is very different from other ones. Even when I have gone out with a divorced man, my only concern was the man himself.
Now... well, now, there is a little girl that there is the far-out potential for me to have in my life, and I am creeping like molasses in this new thing because I realize that this is all bigger than anything from before.
But I like him.

Rewrite.

2009-12-22T19:08:00.000-08:00

I often think about how I would have done some moment in my life differently, whether it is an overhaul completely, or just a minor change of words... Now that it is almost a new year, and I am on the cusp of --gulp-- 30 years old, this seems all the more relevant. I need to internally clear the air, and the best way for me to do it is here.

I have decided to rewrite a few moments in my life that I wish had happened differently...

1. I would not have had sex so young. I would have not let that peer pressure push my kind, sweet, vulnerable self to make a poor choice that had such deep impact. I have been coping with that path for years. Instead of that, I would have said, no, I am NOT ready. And that would have been OK, I bet. I bet no one would have cared any more or any less.

2. I would have studied harder, tried harder to be a better student. I was not a failing student by any means, but for a variety of reasons including being the first daughter of a Southern, divorced, hardworking mom, I didn't get the guidance I wish I had in terms of college and finance. I could have done far more with myself. I could have been so much further along in my career, and further along with the goals I would like to achieve. I am working on being more dedicated to what is in front of me.

3. I would not have let my most recent ex call me an ugly word more than once, and I would not have allowed myself to be lesser than anyone. I should have walked away. I should not have given so much more than I received, over and over. I would have known my worth and valued myself enough to turn away and still know there was deserving man out there waiting on me.

4. I would have not made the safe choice to go to an in-state school, but instead gone to a city far away, studied abroad, and been more independent earlier. I have a curious, deeply inquisitive core and I would have been so happy if I had just stepped out of my comfort zone and trusted that my life would fall into place even if I left it for a minute. I can still take risks in my life, and I plan to be more selfish in this way. My life shouldn't be based on what I think others want from me, or want me to do.

5. I would not have chased my father for love. He is my father, whether or not my parents were divorced or he was in medical school far away. He should make the effort for me. If he didn't find true and necessary value in me, that has nothing to do with me. I have nothing to prove. I am his child, not a random person. Love and attention should be unconditional. Because of the way he acted toward me, I have been chasing every. single. man. Done and done. This one I can work on now. This one I can change now.

6. I would not have drank too much alcohol and lost control of my manners at times. Not too much detail needed, but there are definitely moments where I still feel ashamed. I don't plan on ever having another one.

7. I would know that I can trust my gut. If something feels wrong, it probably is. If I think it is love, it might very damn well be. So I am going to trust my instincts.

I know I can't go back in time, I cannot undo what I have done, or what has been done to me. I can only try to move forward and make actual choices. Not let choices be made for me, simply because I don't trust myself to choose.

And like usual, I am proven wrong in my cynicism. Thank God.

2009-11-26T19:17:00.000-08:00

I woke up to my brother calling, then telling my mom he woke me up and telling her to call me.
She calls and sings to me...
"A turkey sat on a backyard fence and sang a sad, sad song...
Thanksgiving Day is coming, gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble,
And I know I'll be eaten soooo-ooo-ooo-ooon!
Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble.
Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble.
I would like to run awa-a-a-a-a-a-a-y!
Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble.
Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble.
I don't like Thanksgiving Da-a-ay!"
I love that woman. She makes me giggle.
Then, up, walk and feed dog, veg, go to work at 12...
Worked all day in the dog daycare giving extra lurve to the dogs because they are all stuck here for the holiday.
After a full day of work, one of my most delightful coworker/friends came all the way from the suburbs to bring me a plate of her Thanksgiving dinner with family.
How. Thoughtful.
Unbelievable.
Just because she knows I am without loved ones.
And then, it was really Thanksgiving.
Thanks Shannon. Thanks dogs.
Happy Thanksgiving.

'Twas Thanksgiving Eve, and all through the town...

2009-11-25T14:28:00.000-08:00

It is almost my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving. You know the one where you see family, eat amazing family recipes, and get hugs?
I spent last year with my ex's family, and then we saw mine, so that was fine.
This year, I will be alone here in New Orleans, and working. Because my family is far away, because I work in retail, because Dreaded Ex and I aren't together, so his family isn't mine to share.
Now, this ain't no pity party, so don't go there. I am introspective, self-aware, weirdly calm.
It is a learning experience.
One I don't plan to repeat.
I am so blue not to see all my cousins and my cousins' children, to miss out on the leaves turning and falling in North Georgia, to not help my mom defrost frozen broccoli for her famous and adored broccoli casserole.
To not say a prayer of thanks while holding the same hands I have held since I was just a little girl, in a circle of grace with my kinfolk.
There won't be late evening card games and stolen pumpkin pie for me, just another lonely night in New Orleans with my wonderful companion Roux the dog.
I am certain that this holiday season won't go easy, that I will shed a tear or ten.
It is different being far from loved ones when you have a significant other. I spent the last two holiday seasons with him, another reason this will be tough.
This was a hard year, no lie. Many things have happened to rattle, jar, and wound me.
I almost can't wait for the clock to change to 2010.
But for now, I will work, and wait to see the ones I love again. I can't make time move faster.
I will help my customers as they rush in and out on their way to better places, and I will make my plans for the time when I am home again, for good.
And I will have this to hold on to: It will never be this bad again.

Watch it, I bite.

2009-11-20T13:12:00.000-08:00

It is so annoying to feel so annoyed!
I wish I was hopeful or joyous or pleased about one big thing in life, whether it is a great relationship, a great job, or a great new home.
I am so transitional right now that all I want to do is be Surls McGee.
Queen Cranky of the Pissy Brigade.
I am headed home to my friends, family, and very happy to be doing that, but it will only last a few days...
then back to my reality here.
The one that makes me so damn irritable.
I need a helping hand to get back on track, but there is no one but me to really rely on.
And I am not feeling too strong right now...

A bad romance...

2009-11-20T10:08:00.000-08:00

Lady Gaga says it best...
"I want your love and I want your revenge.You and me could write a bad romance..."
After the absolute JOKE that is this last end of all the ends, I am riled up and ready to jump out of my skin.
I want it all, which I think it totally fine. Life is more chaotic than even I, taker of all kinds of weird, can handle.
The Dreaded Ex has gone completely missing after a week of silence.

Let me preface this section with: I live with a crazy person.
After DE and I broke up, I moved quite quickly into a new place with a girl that has two dogs.
Seemed ideal...like most doomed things do.
She has a fiance/ex fiance/boyfriend/ex boyfriend/crazy person she is with...let's call him Lurch.
So, CrazyPills and Lurch have been falling apart for a while, before I even lived with her.
Lurch, in all his Lurchiness, decides it is a WONDERFUL idea to come our house at 3:45 a.m. CST about 3 weeks ago, and bang on the SIDE OF THE HOUSE, calling her names that I won't lower myself to print and demanding his "$12,000 ring" back.
He finally leaves, leaving in his wake a very chapped me with my freaked out vibrating dog, as well as CP who is shocked into what once might call, momentary catatonic silence. I mention restraining orders.
Five minutes later, the doorbell rings. Oh, HELLO, NOPD.
The NOPD have been called on a noise complaint thanks to that moron Lurch, but their main concern is that my little 43-lb mutt is too close, so they threaten to TASE HIM. Like you do, when you see a small, sniffy dog on his owner's porch. And you have a gun. And he isn't barking. But I digress.
So this happens.
Two days later, they are on the phone screaming at about 11:00 p.m., and I finally hear CP hang up and go into the bathroom.
I quietly walk out for a glass of water...and surprise!
VOODOO RITUAL IN THE LIVING ROOM...complete with white candles and a doll.
I ran back into my room and prayed to my dear baby Jesus.
So, at this point I am thinking, perhaps I need to find a new home...one for me and Roux alone...
Meanwhile, Dreaded Ex has been trying to prove his love and worth to me, be there for me, etc...and has gone to Chicago for business.
This week was week two of him being gone, and he came back Thursday night. Or so I think. Who really knows.
So, let's jump back to Sunday to clarify.
I ran errands in the morning sunshine, groceries and pet store, as it was my only day off, and came home to a porch covered in boxes...I figured CP was cleaning...what a nice change.
Walked into the house, put my groceries down, and went to put my comforter in the wash. You know, adult responsible behaviors we are forced to do on our days off instead of swinging on swings and reading in trees.
And in the moment I lifted the comforter into the wash, my heart went -------- BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM!!!!!!!! Loud and fast and intense and hard and too much and I can't breathe right and I am shaking and tunneling out...
921, 941, 911! Got it.
Calling. Ringing. Answering. "New Orleans Emergency Services, what is your emergency?"
"I am experiencing extreme tachycardia, I am 29 years old, have taken no illicit substances, no alcohol, no caffeine, I have Mitral Valve Prolapse and anxiety disorder and I need someone to come here right now."
"Address please ma'am"
"**** State Street" (is that my address I can't remember OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO DIE ON MY FLOOR)
"Repeat to confirm"
"**** State Street" (that IS my address, oh please, oh please heart don't do this to me now please God please)
"Phone number please"
"404-***-****" (that is NOT my phone number they will never find me i will die on the damn floor without my momma)
"Repeat to confirm"
"404-***-****" (ok that is my number calm down amanda just breathe just keep breathing)
I start coughing and crying, flexing my stomach and forcing slow breaths doing all the Valsalva manuevers I can muster and remember and nothing is working...
"Ma'am I need you to sit down, don't eat and don't drink anything. They are on the way."
I sit. I breathe. She makes me count my beats...
"Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineteneleventwelve..."
(That is about 197 beats per minute. My normal rate is about 80. We are talking serious business here.)
That rate is fast enough to set it to wiggling and shaking, then STOPPING. Like when a person does cocaine, and dies just as high as a kite. Same essential issue. Too fast to work.
Firemen at the door, dog put up, me on couch.
Blood pressure cuff on, big hands on my wrists, calming male tones in my ears, tears on my face.
Days later (or just minutes no idea) ambulance. Heart monitor on my chest, its plastic nodules digging into my skin in eight places.
I am fine at this point, as these episodes, though years apart for me and drawn out by extreme stress, last only minutes.
Though it feels like days of my life have passed, it has only been 15 minutes since I put the laundry in. My spinach is wilting on the kitchen floor. The dog is still barking in my room "Who is here? Who is here?"
The lovely and helpful paramedics then notice a cat on the porch on their way out the door.
"I have no cat," I say.
And yet, amid the boxes in a crate is... a kitten. LURCH.
Lurch left all this crap here, and that kitten is CP's!!!! Bah. BAH! The chaos is overwhelming!
I call Dreaded Ex for a support call. He, in all his self-centered glory, has the cajones to be annoyed at me for being pissy. I did, you should know, tell about the heart issue, the ambulance, and the kitten, and the voodoo and the noise complaint. I even cried.
He says, "You are pissed about everything, Amanda."
Then DE... HANGS UP ON ME.
I call him back immediately, and hear this on the line..."LEAVE ME THE #$%^ ALONE AND STOP CALLING ME. BYE."
And I haven't heard from him since.
I feel your shock, your mouth is agog and you are thinking "How does a guy do that!? How can he be so cold?!"
It's a bad romance.

A word, if you will, dear world.

2009-11-16T11:44:00.000-08:00

I have to go away
I've got no reason to stay here
You said someday you'll change
But even a fool will tell you
Someday never comes..."
Brandi Carlisle

A refreshing and frightening wind is blowing through my mind and my world.
I have lost just about all a woman can lose this year. Two jobs. A long-term relationship. Financial wellness.
I even almost lost my beloved stepfather on the floor of my parent's kitchen, and endured health scares all my own.
I have cried, screamed, wailed, and been indignant in the face of this turmoil. I have done everything except tell the world "NO."
That time has come.
I will not, world, accept your pitiful excuse for love and loyalty, your backhanded compliments and forgotten flowers.
I will not take what you give and ask for nothing, or be left in the dark waiting for you to pick me.
I will pick what I want, and treat it well once it's mine.
But I won't be left feeling taken advantage of, stolen from, or betrayed.
I will not accept whatever crap job you toss my way, like breadcrumbs for pigeons, and I sure as HELL will not be left off the team like I haven't earned my place here.
I won't look away when you challenge me, eye to eye, because I will know I am your equal.
I will command your attention with the glint in my eye and I will match you wit for wit.
My grace and stance won't allow your poor behavior, and you surely won't, my dear world, take credit where none is due.
You will respect me, give me what I need, and do it with a smile, and never raise your voice to me.
You will court me, learn me, love me, and then maybe kiss me.
I will earn my keep and keep what I earn, losing little and gaining much as I stroll down my internal streets of gold.
You won't be able to knock me down, not with words, or neglect, or fists.
I will own me, building and maintaining a stunning wall of dignity that you can't penetrate with body or behavior.
I will choose my path and stick to it, wavering if I see fit, but never again letting you lead me astray down rocky roads and twisted streets of false hopes, two-way mirrors, and double entendre.
I will hold both of us to a high standard and expect us to meet it.

sometimes i am foolish.

2009-10-27T09:31:00.000-07:00

...for not saving money.for using my credit when i just run out of money.
not finding a job where i make more.
for somehow making it to almost 30 without a solid career path, husband, or home.
i mean, what the HELL am i doing?
being foolish.
i have a good education, multiple great listings on my resume, and am quite intelligent.
and yet...
i see these girl-women, with years in the same job or career, with a home, savings, and a decent man by their side.
what the hell has happened to me that i am not in that same role?
am i a total nitwit? how has this gone so horribly wrong???
i look back, and i see a string of monogamous boyfriends... a college degree on time... an outgoing personality... a pretty face... the same weight and dress size for 15 years....
so where is the kink in my chain?
this, my loves, is where my thoughts keep going.
what have i done?

Day 14 of the new life

2009-09-08T17:17:00.000-07:00

I went to therapy today. I also got my hair done.
You know, the usual breakup stuff.
I have no desire to talk to him.
He left me a voicemail during my hair appointment today telling me that he "was headed back to Seattle, and just wanted me to know, and if I wanted to talk to him I could call him back, if not he would talk to me when he was back in town."
Ick.
I realized at my actual therapy appointment and at my hairapy appointment that he never made enough effort.
There were flashes, moments, glimpses of the guy he could be...
Times when I felt so absolutely loved and safe.
But in the day-to-day he could be pretty selfish, inconsiderate, and even hurtful.
He said he loved me more than he had ever loved anyone, but didn't show it regularly.
If he didn't want to talk, we didn't.
If he didn't like what I said, he shut me out.
If he wanted to go out alone and stay out really late, he did.
If he was drunk, forget it. Talk about true colors.
He never got the concept of a couple, and I wanted it so bad.
In the first days after the breakup I fantasized he would love me enough to come back a changed man. That he would see me as worth the effort.
Now I see that I want it all.
He isn't the guy to give it to me. Not even close.
So on I go.
Me and my shiny new hair.

Blustery emotional days.

2009-09-06T10:02:00.000-07:00

So.
My now ex-boyfriend said he didn't want to be with me. We had been on a two-week break, and then the show was over. I moved out last week, and took our dog.
He is still calling, but honestly, who does he think he is fooling?
Like I need you calling me to tell me you miss and love me and all that crap whilst I am now cohabitating with a new roommate and her two dogs, who my dog wants to eat.
There were big cries, lots of what-ifs, and he had ample chance to undo what he had done.
And he didn't.
So now I am alone again, living in a new place, reorganizing my life, all over again.
This all came on the heels of a near-death experience for my beloved stepdad. The night this happened, my ex said he was ready to look at rings.
Within a week we were on a break.
Inside two more, we are over.
Talk about frigid, icy feet.
I am OK, though, and hopeful that true love will find me.
It is really sad to know that you are the one that is left behind, that you are not what someone wants. That someone is willing to walk away and be alone rather than be with you one more day.
It is even harder to know that you should have left a while ago, and didn't. When someone is mean, or hurtful, or just inconsiderate, you have to think about whether you can stand this when you are 85 and tired and old.
Who do I want by my side? Who do I want to hold me when I cry and name my first baby?
I want true, deep, honest raw love. The kind that shares words, kisses, and thoughts. The kind that brings you coffee in the morning out of sheer happiness at your smile.
I know it is out there--Carrie Bradshaw says so.

Reason 842 that I am a giant ASS.

2009-06-23T18:53:00.000-07:00

One of my best friends in the entire world called today and is very happily pregnant.
I declared my extreme happiness for her and her husband, which was totally true and real.
I am happy for her--I love her and she wanted this.
So.
Why did I promptly cry upon hanging up with her?
Because I am a jerkfacehead who envies the young marriages of my closest friends, secretly (and not so secretly now that I am blogging) wants a small herd of children, and dreams of being a housewife.
And I have none of those things.
I live with Andy, and that's all fine and good, but I am ready.
I am ready to have my engagement, get married, start a family and grow up, dammit.
So with her news came a new wave of "left behind."
And that is a terrible feeling to have in reference to friends you dearly love.

Can you hold these red slippers for me? Actually, just keep them.

2009-06-08T12:07:00.000-07:00

"Circles and circle and circles, again."--Tori Amos

I have recently realized that my life has been a pattern--cyclical in almost every way.
Until now.
I always start confidently in my red slippers on my long walk up the barren hill, sure I can handle what comes.

My precious red heel breaks, and I hobble a bit. I require assistance, but am unsure where to find it.

Then I see a roll of duct tape (conveniently dangling off a tree) and--voila! miraculous mary and joseph!--my walk can continue. Glorious little red shoes save the day!

Unbeknownst to me, duct tape only last so long--crack!

A pathetically re-broken heel. My little heart aches. I can see the summit, green and golden and littered with tangible joy. I must re-tape! Over and over.

...This is how it always went. Re-taping myself over and over... the same problems over and over... spinning around with my world off-kilter. Until now.

I, however, am now more stuck than EVER before, as a change has come.

I have realized that I can only cover the problem to an extent, and that true salvation must come from within and from above.

Duct tape will do me no good now. I know too much.

So I remove said shoe, and its dearest friend "other shoe", and stroll slowly and deliberately up the hill.

Relying on my own strength to keep me going. Going deep inside my soul for the light to guide me.

I am too old to pretend that my problems aren't exactly that: my problems.

I can't click my heels and wish my way out of this mess.

My problems are internal, stretching back into the past and tainting my memories and my heart with ill-conceived notions and poorly constructed shields.

No amount of duct tape can fix what is inside.

So now the work begins. Seeing through eyes that are not blindfolded by experiences but open to life as it ACTUALLY is.

Real life.

I have to fight for who I am--it's all I really have.

Barefoot and newborn in my strength, I am ready to face the barren landscape and fight my way to the top, outside the emotional smog.

Where I deserve to be.

surreality

2009-06-05T14:58:00.001-07:00

do you ever look around at your life and think...

"this is not at all what was intended for me! where's the hidden camera?
there must be an error with my ticket...Sir! Sir! over here!
i think, nay, i am confident that my ticket to glory and unending joy has been switched somehow...
excuse me? no, i am very serious. if you would let me finish, please.
ahem.
check with that moderately obese woman who needs a flatiron and a vat of lip wax--surely she is not destined for the happiness of which I am so clearly deserving! i mean, i am so prepared for my big day! look at me!
there is no way i am meant to have such waves of bliss and misery coursing through the veins of my life.
what?? no, i will NOT sit down. i will not sit in this airless corner with just a sliver of cushion and a hint of light.
what's this--what's this?!?! and no beverage service??
but, yet... you give me tchaikovsky's nutcracker through the perfection of bose headphones and provide a delicately scented bouquet of sweet olive and jasmine to lull me...
i don't understand this place...
there is no logic here, Sir! there is not a note of rhyme or reason to this!..."

and then you jolt, realizing that this IS, in fact, your life.
it is a messy, beautifully terrifying place where ups and downs catch you off guard and you can't ever...quuuitttteeee... see around the corner and anticipate what's coming. you wait, perpetually prepared with hair coiffed and nails done, smile ready, for the moment it all makes sense and "they" (whoever they are) come to give you your much-deserved award for finally, finally, getting it.

but you won't. so go get a cocktail and enjoy your wild curls.

love is grand. really, it is...right?

2009-06-05T13:25:00.000-07:00

"high up above, or down below...
when you're too in love to let it go...
if you never try, you never know...":coldplay: fix you.

ok. hard to talk about.
andy and i have never had the easiest relationship.
there is a lot of love but we butt heads constantly.
since we have been together for two years now, i thought when he asked me what ring i might like, or discussed the future like i was an element of which he was certain, or stayed up late with my stepfather, it meant we were on track for an engagement soon.
i was so mistaken.
last weekend he gave his number to another girl in a bar, whilst my pretty little head slept.
i didn't discover this until he came home late tuesday night and my gut said in its sneakiest voice,"check his phone..."
so i did.
and i found a number that wasn't saved, and i found texts from that friday night.
and i woke him up and screamed and cried and demanded honesty.
he couldn't find honesty til the next morning.
he made a poor choice, and never meant to cheat or hurt me, but that he was enjoying the ego boost of someone else being interested in him.
i can't really explain what i was feeling. i felt so betrayed, so disgusted.
and yet, i am still with him.
we are not perfect. i am not perfect. oh, if only.
but, alas no. simply human.
andy and i talked for hours about what we both really wanted, if we were happy together, if we should end this.
we cried together for the hurt we have been through and caused each other.
like many friends i have dated, dumped, been dumped, and pondered my eternal loneliness.
now that i have someone i love the way i have always wanted to, who loves me enough to stay and deal with the real shit, there is not a chance that i can just walk.
do i feel a bit foolish? of course.
does he feel guilt for being an idiot? clearly.
can we be apart? probably.
only love can heal broken hearts, so even when we are crushed to bone fragments and can't breathe from the tightness in our hearts, we must wait it out, and love again.
i truly hope that it is worth it for us to make this enormous effort.
time will tell.

And just for fun...

2009-06-04T15:11:00.001-07:00

is this not AMAZING??

Dog diarrhea + New Orleans heat + A/C off = LikeWhoa.

2009-06-01T17:06:00.000-07:00

I can honestly say that few things are more pitiful and sad and GROSS than a sick dog.

Picture this: A girl races home after a dentist appointment with just a few minutes to spare to get home and let the dog out, during her (fartooshort) lunch break.
Dog greets girl at door, jets past her to the yard, and proceeds to squat and let foul brown goop shoot out of his poor little rear.
Girl doesn't make it inside as she feels bad for dog, and gives him a few minutes to deal with this unfortunate development in his day instead of going in the house.
Dog finished. Dog up stairs and inside. Girl follows, realizing there is a distinct possibility that before she got home---
Yep. It happened.
There is liquid poo and vomit ALL OVER the living room. Dog is sick. Very sick.
Girl spends the rest of her lunch break cleaning up insanely foul dog feces and sweating because boyfriend has decided that the A/C doesn't need to be on while we are gone. This has also caused the rancid stench of sick dog to become overwhelming.
We live in New Orleans. It's already 90 degrees.
Happy Monday, everyone.

I don't CARE if he is Muslim. It's really OK.

2009-05-29T09:30:00.000-07:00

Someone close to me (who will go unnamed) sent me the following email forward:

I was at Blockbusters on Saturday renting videos, and I was going along the wall and there was a video called "Obama". I told the men next to me that I wouldn't waste my time.
We started talking about Obama.
These guys were Arabs, and I asked them why they thought Michele Obama headed home following her visit in France instead of traveling on to Saudi Arabia and Turkey with her husband.
They said she couldn't go to Saudi Arabia , Turkey or Iraq .
I said "Laura Bush went to Saudi Arabia , Turkey , Dubai ."
They answered, "Obama is a Muslim, and by Muslim law, he would not be allowed to bring> his wife into the countries that accept Sharia Law."
Just thought it was interesting that the Arabs at Blockbuster's accept the idea that we're being led by a Muslim who follows the Islamic creed.
They also said that's the reason he bowed to the King of Saudi Arabia . It was a signal to the Muslim world.
--From a Vietnam era Marine Corps Pilot

First off, this didn't happen. This is some email someone made up to push their thoughts onto others.
However, if in some random universe it did happen, who cares?!
It does not offend me that the President of the UNITED STATES might have been/is/wants to be Muslim.
This country is supposed to have a separation of Church and State, and so it really doesn't matter what religion the leader is.
Terrorists are a small group of misled people. They are not the majority. Most Muslims are mortified by the behavior of those groups.
Much like I am mortified by Christians who say God Hates Fags, etc.
God loves us all. And we may all be wrong anyway. Chill out on this whole thing.
As long as the President is respectful, smart, and works hard for me, he could practice Wicca or be Agnostic for all I care.
George Bush did not do a good job, even with all the Christian beliefs in the world, and lovely white skin to match.
So, let me summarize:
Stop sending around crap that makes you look like a big scaredy cat with serious tolerance issues.
Thankyousoveryverymuch.

OMP get that thing away from me right now and kill it! Kill it, man!

2009-05-28T14:55:00.000-07:00

So, I wake up, stretch my little arms into the sky, and head out to walk to the Roux, as he is once again, in my face.

Literally.

He wakes me up every day by walking around me in the bed, and sticking his nose in my nose.

I love cold and wet dog snoot, but even as a morning person, it is a bit excessive to never get to sleep in.

Anywho.

Wakey wakey, and walkey walkey Roux to the park.

Back to the house, exercise.

Strip off stinky exercise clothes, turn on shower.

Pull back curtain, and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!

GIANT ROACH.

Struggling to climb the once-sanitary, now-filthy walls of my tub!

I screech, as I am known to do, and then begin to mumble to myself, much like a crazed person who is hearing voices and who is also in the middle of a bomb explosion whereupon they have gone deaf and blind.

On the hunt for something, ANYTHING, that will make it stop running all over my freaking tub with its horrid little bristly legs.

I pour glass after glass of water from the sink on it, as the shower spray isn't enough to move it down to the drain.

I tell Roux to get it, and he knows what that means. And he refuses me.

I finally run to the kitchen for the Earth Friendly Raid (ha) and when I come back...

Giant demon roach is gone.

So I may or may not have sprayed Raid down the drain, in a rare moment of disregard for the environment.

Then--horror of horrors!--I have to get in there!

I have to hurry. Can't be late to work because of roach. People would not believe me.

I somehow managed to bathe without taking my eyes off the drain, waiting for it to climb out and enact its revenge. I kept thinking it was going to fly at my face or exposed body, causing a swift and fatal heart attack.

It did not, which is why I am here today to tell you this.

I have been around them my whole Southern life, and they still cause a fear in my soul that makes no sense. Illogical and overwhelming fear of roaches.

Shudder. And it's only May.

my attempt at enjoying the moment. nom, nom, nom.

2009-05-26T19:12:00.000-07:00

1.5 perfectly chilled shots of Skyy.
3 vermouth-soa ked jumbo martini olives.
6 salty-tart pearl cocktail onions.
one adorable happy bone-eating pupperton.
ahh....
tuesday night at its finest.
i have discovered that most minor issues, usually caused by poor perspective about life as it really is, can be made more clear by a well-made adult beverage and a dog to love you.
i have been (unfairly so) bothered the past few days by a few new engagements and pregnancies for my friends. i want that.
i say that loudly and with pride, because i took ages to come to terms with the fact that you have to dream a little to get what you want.
if you never dream of things, you never admit to yourself that you want things, that you want things with all your heart, that you believe you are worthy and deserving, that you need people, that you yearn.
yearn. i yearn.
how funny that looks. but i do.
i want to be proposed to under a beautiful sky by the man i love, and have a lovely wedding, and two or three children, and another dog.
clearly i am ready to make the next move. hopefully whilst wearing white and carrying a southern bouquet of local bests... maybe with a chantilly lace ribbon...
but i digress.
when it happens, it happens. it's no fun if it isn't full of romance.
so, instead of checking our theknot.com, i am watching the delectable "notting hill" while sipping a martini perfectly made by me (see above) and listening to my beloved dog gnaw a bone.
i have decided to enjoy dating, and look forward to the day that (hopefully) i hear those four words every girl, of every age, at any given moment, lives to hear.
che-ars! drink up.

You did not just say that to me. You didn't dare.

2009-05-23T10:37:00.000-07:00

It is probably wise to tell you that I have never been in girl fight--no slappy, slappy, punchy, smacky for this lady.
However, this almost did occur last night, when for some reason the horrible younger blonde meanie-wench my friend and I encountered showed her ass.
I first saw her when I went out to the patio and saw a guy I thought I knew--Friend and I struck up convo with him, but couldn't figure out how I knew him.
Then, we began to gather that he was sort of an ass, a few years younger, trying to do the cock-walk in front of this little group of (clearly) younger-than-him girls.
We said our see ya's and moved back inside to our table.
I had a few sangrias, but nowhere near enough to cause the levels of mean I am capable of.
So, when this girl gave me and Friend the once over as she strolled by a while later, and mumbled non-flattering words in my direction, I was taken aback.
Why was she stirring my pot? Why was she taking issue with us?
Hmmm.
Of course I returned her stink eye, but mine has aged like wine and is far more potent than hers.
And that was the extent of it.
Until...
We are walking out to leave, having possibly closed down the place (lovely--Eclipse de Luna) and pass her and this known-but-unknown guy again.
I hear her say byeee!
I turn.
"I'm sorry--what?"
She says, "Oh, we're friends!" This comment has buckets of sarcasm on it.
I say, "Since when?"
And then Friend intervenes and tells me we need to go home, and waggles her fingers and says goodnight to the little gang.
Then it happened.
The twit said,"Good night! Lose weight!"
QUOI?? Que Dice? WHAT???
You heard me. That little biddy told us to lose weight.
My hands curled into fists, and I started to walk back.
I said loudly,"What did you just say?"
I hear nothing. I think she hid behind the pillar.
Friend says, "I'd back you on this, but I need to get home."
I breathed deeply. We left, but not without me turning around twice more and almost walking back to kick that little hooker's tail.
I know it's tacky as all get-out to engage in such behavior, but I had lost my ever-loving mind.
I am not a big girl. I am not a twig.
I am not fat though, and I was pretty insulted.
And her insult wasn't even original!
Little hooker.
Moments like that make me wish I was a guy and could just whack someone in the face and get it over with.

A flood of emotion: New Orleans

2009-05-22T13:15:00.000-07:00

I have lived in New Orleans for one year.
With my fresh eyes last May, the city looked worn out but proud, like an old man in his finest suit, leaning on a cane and waiting to show you into his antique-filled home. Never you mind the missing step or the broken shutter out front.

The good stuff's inside, he says.

And it truly is.

My job since I moved here has been to sell this city as a great location for meetings and events, and I have been lucky in getting such a job so early in my recently -changed career. Any other city wouldn't have had me just yet--too green. My sales skills too new in the tough hospitality industry.

New Orleans found a use for my youth and non-native status; why would I tell clients to come here if I didn't mean it? I am young, I am fresh. My loyalties aren't to this town, but to another.

At least they were.

Now, New Orleans is familiar, and the words, music, food and people are my daily life.

The pothole-filled roads, the historic homes, the prevalent segregation by tradition and choice.

I wrote up a description for a "History, Highlights, and Hope Tour" today.

It includes a visit to the infamous levees, the Lower Ninth Ward, and the above-ground cemetaries...

You can see the destruction, if you like. Where all those people were so scared, fighting for their lives against an inevitable catastrophe.
We can take you to the places where innocence and lightheartedness were lost in the flood, if you so desire. Where children drowned and houses were shredded.

In an effort to re-acquaint myself with "The Storm" as they, or we, call it, I googled those dreaded words.

"Hurricane Katrina."

I found myself there in the pain, the sadness, the loss, and the courage. I understand that for visitors, seeing it makes is more real than CNN or Fox ever could. The word rubbernecker comes to mind, though.

In my year here I have not visited any of the places that I saw on TV, far away in Atlanta those years ago. Before I ever knew I'd live here.

Hindsight is 20/20, but it makes no difference in this case.

My throat constricted, my eyes welled up with tears. I had to hold it in.

I felt such a deep sorrow for these neighbors, these new friends. I can't believe they went through this.

Know what? They are willing to lose it all again for the love of the city. Intangible, potent loyalty is like a strong perfume here.

Four years have almost gone by, and hurricane season is upon us again. My second one.

I was so afraid last year--I just wanted to go home to Atlanta, and forget this swampy world.

This year, I am ready to handle what comes; I find a new courage in the face of possible horror.
There must be something in the water here... it gets under your skin.

Fly Away Home...or Abroad. Yes, abroad!

2009-05-22T07:09:00.001-07:00

Dancing passports in my head...
I am in the throes of a travel bug, nay, an all-consuming viral attack!
All I can do is google Colorado ranches, Montana hiking trips, European backpacking trips, African safaris!!
I have a hunger in my stomach and soul to live deeply instead of in this mundane day-to-day I have sunken into.
Don't misconstrue my words here--I do love having a home and a dog and a solid life.
I am just a wanderer, and if I could take my life with me and wander this beautiful planet and eat and drink and learn and play forever I would!
I enjoy in doing it alone, though I would love to do it with my partner. I have traveled alone and it was sort of nice. Quiet inside.
I can't wait to escape to some new place and create a new memory.
I should have been born into 1800's high society so I could travel year-round. Sigh.

How outside influence is making me age: A discussion of my vanity

2009-05-21T14:32:00.000-07:00

Seriously, for the past, oh, 6 months, I have been making the same face. Off and on, at least once a day.
Eyebrows together, mouth curled up and pursed to one side, chin tilted up and to the left.
This is my "what the HELL is happening, it A. confuses me B. annoys me C. might anger me" face.
It has come into play with the economy, my well-loved dog digging his little dog toenails into my foam mattress topper while I was at work and had stripped the bed in a fit of domesticity, my boyfriend coming home at 2:30 on a Tuesday night and drunkenly snoring me awake like an angry warthog, this 15 lbs of "i am in a relationship" that won't. flipping. leave., and a variety of poor manuevers by other drivers who are hindering my attempts to get home as fast as I can, every day.
I believe this is why Botox might be in my future.
I can't seem to stop making this face.
Now that I am - gulp - 29, I must pay more attention to these things! I am no spring chicken, you know.
Granted, I have been been slighty gerascophobic for as long as I can recall, and have been firmly suggesting to friends to use eye creams since we were 18... is that weird?
Whatever. Your opinion is irrelevant, as I was right.
I have no problem with the actual age, it is the looking the age that bothers me.
For example, a 23-year-old male neighbor was chatting with me and the live-in bf, and I said something about how I was 29, blah, blah, yadda, and the kid was like, whoa.
"I thought you were way younger than that," he says.
While that may sound like a compliment, was it really? After thinking about it, I realized, people think 29 is OLD!
And that we should be wrinkled and unattractive...
Horrified.
So, I figure, as long as I hear that I look younger I am golden.
That is what this new face I am making is really chapping me. It is undoing years of maintenance work!
Daily life is killing my appearance slowly!
Sigh.

That said, here is a wee list of things I love that seem to be keeping me...preserved, if you will:
1. Apricot oil--under the eyes, on any wrinkles.
2. Olive oil--in the hair at night, all over the body-daily, if you choose. Ever notice how gorgeous older Italian ladies are? Yea.
3. Tooth whitening rinses--used before brushing, makes toothpaste SO much more effective.
4. Vaseline--on lips at night. A/C and heaters can demolish natural moisture. Fight back, hard, as no one is a fan of wrinkled lip edges. Really. No one.
5. Cuticle oil-- both hands and feet.
6. Hand lotion--cocoa butter is great, but use anything. Hands are often forgotten, but they make a huge difference.
7. SPF--all over. Head to toe. Protect yo'self before you wreck yo'self. Heard heard?
8. Night cream--use a rich one since you aren't putting on makeup over it. Be greasy. Mmm. Grease.
9. Smiling--if you must age, and we really have no choice, at least make the conscious decision to have wrinkles that smile, not frown.
10. Help others/kiss puppies--this makes you happy, and you smile; see no. 9.

I am going to go and attempt to not make the face in traffic on the way home. Wish me luck.
Or mail me a leprechaun, just to expedite the luck-giving process.

Oh, economy, my economy...

2009-03-13T17:40:00.001-07:00

I am looking for a new job, as I seem to have misplaced my previous one.
I am smart, talented, and ambitious. I work hard, and I am outgoing.
There are no jobs.
Where are the jobs?
Overseas.
Why are they there?
So old white guys can make money.
I digress.
I finally found one I wanted, interviewed, rocked it.
Three weeks later, they tell me they can only offer me a part-time position.
Because of the ECONOMY.
Really? The economy probably wants you to work harder, push harder, invest more.
The economy and you are like a failing relationship where instead of investing all you have in this very important thing, you choose to minimize your losses and walk off, leaving Economy alone and crying. Desperate and clingy and contemplating getting far to close with the gas stove.
Nothing, I repeat, NOTHING, will change or improve if we don't work at it.
Hiding out, laying low, backing off, running for the hills--these are all ways to FAIL.
So, part-time job, where were we?
Oh, yes. The part where I accept, so I can make some money and thusly do my part to keep the economy moving, but where I am secretly seething at your minimal commitment.
Like a lover who is all take and no give, and denies you a Friday night date in lieu of a Tuesday lunch meetup.

leave?.! stay?.! forever.

2009-03-11T18:55:00.000-07:00

watching the devil wears prada.
why does watching this, or sex and the city, or love actually, or sense and sensibility, or even breakfast at tiffany's make me want to travel forever?
why do i feel a continued sense of wanderlust?
will it ever end?
will i ever find that place that fulfills my fantasies and dreams and nightmares and imagination?
where the sea and the mountains and the food and the drink and the work and the people make for the perfect life?
God blessed me with a sense of wonder of epic, amazing, gargantuan proportions, and so i roll with it.
but, how it aches when you are somewhere you 100% want to be, and yet still yearn to be elsewhere.
i wish i could be forever able to travel and go where i want to go, without fail.

29

2009-03-05T17:37:00.000-08:00

I turned 29 on Monday. The calls came in this order:
Andy (he lives with me, so he got dibs on singing first)
Mom (singing of course)
Eddie (also singing)
Hamilton (singing as well)
Nicole (text)
Heather (voicemail)
Dad (conversation)
Jenny (instant message)
AJ (text)
Lona (voicemail including boyfriend and 3-year-old singing)
Donald (in the military so calling is impressive and greatly appreciated)
plus cards from the pseudo in-laws and countless Facebook greetings.
My day was especially wonderful because I got a great manicure and pedicure and treated myself to sushi and a cheap trash magazine.
Ah.
Weirdest part was finally feeling like I was a grown-ass woman and had every right to be in a massage chair and taking myself to a great meal.
I have minimal wrinkles, I am still silly and fun and youthful, and I am happily monogamous.
I also have a brand-new fish tank and a fiesty dog to hang out with.
Life is pretty flipping good so far.
So, here's hoping 30 won't kill me.:)
Check with me in 362 days.

bullet points.

2009-01-10T15:39:00.000-08:00

Amanda... doesn't understand how some people can blatantly disregard the relationships of others.
Amanda... doesn't know why he doesn't get why she is upset by this turn of events.
Amanda... wishes she was one of those people who just don't give a bleep.
Amanda... knows her genetics and realizes that isn't going to happen.
Amanda... still has some hurt feelings based on life til this.
Amanda... isn't sure she can trust this way.
Amanda... doesn't know how to do this. Still.

Oh, Tannenbaum...

2008-12-06T16:30:00.000-08:00

Roux was not pleased, but at least this year we went from trying to eat the antlers to knowing to be still long enough to take a picture.
I also decided on a white tree with glittery purple and gold and pearl balls and gold accents with white lights.
Love it!

Top Chef and Jew Santa

2008-12-03T18:10:00.000-08:00

Nothing makes me want good food more than watching Top Chef.
Tonight is good soup night.
Wow.
In other news, my quasi in-laws took care of our dog last week, and decided to give our dog a cloven hoof.
Yes.
A freaking cloven hog hoof for him to chew, carry around, and leave on my lovely leather couches.
As thought he KNOWS I hate it, he brings it to me and drops it on me.
He thinks this is sharing, but he is mistaken.
The thing smells and is sort of creepy.
In other other news, my boyfriend has coined himself the "Jew Santa."
He actually fibbed and said he lived in Delaware to avoid paying certain taxes.
The name is way tacky and not at all politically correct.
Tres funny though.

Pack it up, pack it up, you got it, you got it

2008-11-24T16:37:00.000-08:00

Today was my last day of work before Thanksgiving holiday, and I am thrilled to be packing up to head home to spend time with family.
I am leaving tomorrow morning at about 5, and driving 7 hours to the northeast to the metropolis from whence I came.
We left sweet faced puppy with the pseudo in-laws and I already miss him. Many lots.
However, there are faces to kiss, friends to gossip with, and the best food I'll have all year to be had.
All good things, and I am very eager for it to be tomorrow.
I hope everyone has a nice holiday week with those they love--if you don't have anywhere to go, visit a mission, shelter, church, or other location where you can feed those in need.
Check out www.volunteermatch.org and enter your zip code so you can find things in your area!
Happy holidays!

Worth noting:

2008-11-22T13:43:00.000-08:00

-Watching football with a guy can be scary.
-My dog can eat an entire bone in a less than day. He weighs 42 lbs. Jaws of steel.
-I really love to color my hair with Ebony Mocha by Clairol. Truly lovely.
-Saturday is the best day of the week. Wake up late, stay up late. No penalties.
-Thanksgiving is next week and that means that in a week and a 1/2, I get to Decorate! for Christmas. Oh, yeah, oh, yeah. I lurve it. Oh, yeah.
-There is really nothing better than the act of serving food. Be it to loved ones or strangers, it is SO fulfilling.

Awake early doors

2008-11-22T07:19:00.000-08:00

Good morning! It's before 10 on Saturday morning, in those first free hours of the weekend when you get to just sit. And be. And not rush.
The light here is cold and white, with slowly increasing tinges of yellow and blue on the edges.
It is chilly here on the couch in the living room. Me and Roux are holding it down while Andy sleeps in.
I am sitting here watching Dirty Jobs with Mike Rowe--great, gross show full of new information.
It happens to be an episode about "The Storm". You know who. Her.
Katrina, most devastating of all things, that bitch of a weather pattern that ruined the lives of so many.
I live here now, so I know these people. I like them.
Tough people who went through their worst nightmare and lived to tell about it. No one loves their city more than a New Orleanian. Seriously. It is fanatical. Its more than a city. Way more than a map spot. It is really a lifestyle, a culture, an identity.
Anywho. This episode is from 2006 or so, and is showing the cleanup of a house, ridding a business of rats, and tackling the mosquito problem.
I want to make it clear that I think this city is lovely. It is no more crime-ridden than LA, NYC, Chicago, Miami, Detroit, Orlando or Las Vegas. Even Denver.
If you don't believe me, check out www.bestplaces.net/crime and see for yourself.
Unfortunately, natural disasters command media coverage, and even the best people panic and make bad choices. And TV and internet make it accessible, repeatedly.
So, to outsiders its seems like things are not any better. But, THEY ARE!:)
Yay! Its clean, the live oaks are back, the houses are gorgeous, the French Quarter is mysterious and sexy and fun, and the people are themselves.
To all the producers, reporters, smack talkers, gossipers, and the like, please stop dramatizing it.
Please find a new story.

and later...

2008-11-21T16:35:00.000-08:00

We are going to a wine tasting for the opening of Helix restaurant in the bottom of this (see picture) hotel... or we are supposed to, provided naptime for Andy ends at a reasonable time.
This hotel is so very cool to look at--it changes colors!

Give freely, get freely.

2008-11-20T19:43:00.000-08:00

Right about the time I was stirring a million buttered green peas over a dirty mission stove and moving my feet to an unheard rhythm, I realized that I was contentedly, buzzingly happy.
Deeply happy, in the innermost place in my heart. The cocooned quiet spot where truth sits.
I laughed with my new co-volunteers as we happily made this meal for our fellow humans, these men and women who had fallen on, and perhaps been trapped by, hard times.
As we prepped huge dishes of hamburger helper and green peas and yams, the thunder of a sermon bounced off the walls of the kitchen, leaving us to wonder just what was being said in the room next door...
These men and women came in waves, hands outreached, seeking sustenance and satisfaction. They were thankful, polite. They were sober and smiling, grateful both in manner and word.
I thought of nothing else as I fed them, one after the other, simply that I was finally doing what I have heard referred to as God's work.
After the meal was done, we cleaned up and I met Pastor Terry, owner of the booming voice.
He showed me the grounds, speaking highly of his guests, knowing them by name. Inspiring in his desire to help, to give.
He said we have to give freely, and God will provide more for us than we could ever want.
and then he proved this point without meaning to.
I had been concerned with how to give gifts to my loved ones this year, much less how to give to the needy this season, given the economy and my limited budget.
I continue to give my random dollar bills to those who ask me on the street, to give away my leftovers to someone who looks hungry, and to save every creature that might need saving who crosses my path.
I am not perfect, but I truly love to give to others. I trust my God to bless me and continue to give me what I need so I can share. That doesn't mean I am not afraid to go broke, or not be able to give Christmas gifts. I am. Really. Terrified in the middle of the night on occasion.
So, when Pastor Terry offered me boxes of surplus wonderful treats as a thank you for joining them in their service, I was blown away.
I was blown away because I wanted to give treats to my friends and family for Christmas. And Pastor Troy just gave me all I needed to do that.
Just because I showed up to feed some really grateful, kind souls in need.
I mean, when God wants you to know where He wants you, He is pretty clear.
Give freely, get freely.

Grief.

2008-07-11T18:58:00.000-07:00

Tonight started out easy. I mean, Roux ate the remote to my TV, a random bill, and dragged my Sevens into the living room today while we were at work, but overall, today was easy.
Andy and I ate lunch together at Copelands--he had the BBQ Shrimp Linguini, and I had a fantastic salad. His was shrimp on pasta on cheese pizza. Mine was green. You decide who was happier.
Anywho. Tonight we get home, I drink a couple glasses of red, and Andy invites his friend to come stay and hang out with us tomorrow as we were heading to Biloxi.
As I am finishing a call to an old friend, Andy comes out looking distressed.
He goes to make a call. He comes back in. He wants all his smokes (he is trying to quit so I was in charge of them). I give them over, confused and concerned.
A few minutes go by and he tells me that plans have changed, we aren't going to Biloxi, Will isn't visiting, and he is going to Baton Rouge.
Andy's grandfather is not well, and is is one of those painful in between times when you have to face the horrible fact that your beloved grandparent is slowly leaving you.
It never seems real, like they can't really ever go, because that means they are human, and they can't be human. They just can't.
The worst part is the cutting guilt you feel when you know you could have done more, been more, fulfilled familial duties and been the descendant they deserved, not the slacker who is too busy or far away or even too hungover to take the damn time to go simply see them.
Hug them. Tell them about your life, and all you have done and want to do.
The first grandparent I lost was Mom's mom, Grandmama, the night before I turned 15. Mom was heartbroken and I could not grasp it til now. Grandmama was a writer and was voted Woman of the Year, a classy, smart woman who I feel I have some wonderful qualities of, including her hands. At least according to my mom.
I then lost my father's father, Papa, at age 20, which broke my heart. I loved that man. He held my hands in his soft, blue-collar hands and told me stories of the South and my ancestors. He grew tomatoes and worn flannel shirts, and always smiled.
When I was 23, I lost my mother's father, Grandaddy, a gruff, well-suited man who was so loud when it came to Auburn football he almost became a caricature of himself. His shoes always shined, and he only cried once that I know of, and that was when Grandmama died.
My father's mother, Nannie, is still alive, and is the eternal belle. Southern, sweet, and lost without Papa, she goes on. I pray she lives until my wedding, but I just don't know when that will be, and time ticks on.
I have also lost two deeply cherished aunts to sickness that was unexpected, which might be the worst of all.
Andy is so sad to lose his grandfather. Sad that he didn't do more while he could.
So here I sit, writing out the feelings, loving him from the next room.
I pray for his heart, as heavy as it is, and hope I can be strong enough to hold him up.
There is truly nothing to be said when grief comes except that if you are a person of faith, God is here, and has it all taken care of.
That's all we can hope, and that's all we can hold to when the depths of our hurt are so deep.

A few days late, but Sunday...

2008-07-11T18:53:00.000-07:00

Sweet puppy Roux and I have just returned from our early morning walk through our New Orleans neighborhood. His favorite thing to do is mark everything he sees, smells, or walks across. My favorite thing to do is stare in awe at the homes that take up the blocks where I live.
As everyone knows, New Orleans (say: Norlans, Nawlins, but never New Or-leens)saw a bit of a storm a few years back that caused some damage. Everyone also knows that the city is full of unique, intricately detailed homes where locals have lived for a very long time. These houses are stunning. Some are in need of paint. Some are in need of landscaping. But they are still classy broads, like those women who are aging in a most dignified and charming way. Not trying to be modern, youthful, or even terribly updated. Just living out their years facing the weather, the change of hands, and the interminable tick of time. Chin up, chest out. Proud.
(It really is inappropriate for our dog to urinate on them, but he can't be stopped.)
It shouldn't surprise anyone that the people of New Orleans came back without question or hesitation, and dug their feet in to start the long uphill battle to recreate their homes and lives.
As someone from the outside moving in, I can honestly say that this is an amazing place, full of people who want to make friends, make food, and make this city glorious. I have often wondered how it is that I never came here before. Probably the mistaken view that all this enigma of a city had to offer was the Hurricane rum drink and some beads for a glimpse of what lies beneath.
What a terrible mistake.
I have walked the French Quarter with Andy (the aforementioned man from Baton Rouge), and as a true lover of history, art, music, and good food and drink, been saddened by the simple fact that I never knew...
I never knew this world was here. I dreamt of moving to Europe to find it, to find the place where other languages were spoken in the glimmer of antique chandeliers, where music flowed from balconies, where the gardens were full of secrets. A place where my wine glass was full and the food is a gift.
Now that I am here, living amongst the descendants of French Aristocrats, Spanish soldiers, British Isles immigrants, slaves and Native Americans, breathing this Mississippi River air full of mud and salt, I know where God meant to bring me all these years.
Every afternoon at some point between 1 and 5, hot, sunny rain comes down on us and we all act as though it is surprising, which is so Southern. We always act as though we are surprised by the obvious. Well, maybe we are.
Louisiana is a beautiful place, made of cypress swamps, loyalties, and a deep love of a good time.
If only I could finally eat some beignets...

Love in the Big Easy!

2008-05-11T08:23:00.001-07:00

So ladies and gentlemen--big exciting news!
This belle is moving to the Bayou.
I am in love with BR, or Andy (we can now name the puppy), who finally got it together a while back.
We are moving in together in New Orleans, with Roux, the fantastic dog.
Things are really great with Andy and I--we have been together a bit over a year now, and he is wonderful.
I am very lucky--he is not perfect, but he is so worth it.
I will post pics of the house once we are settled.
Yay!

Blown. Away.

2008-05-11T08:18:00.001-07:00

I was just apologized to by the one person in my life that I try to forget.
The Polish guy.
Dating him was an error of epic proportions, and if you go back through my blogs to 2005, you will see why.
He mentions my past, and who I dated and how that affected his feelings toward me. Like I could change any of it.
After all this time, and all his TERRIBLE behavior, he actually apologized to me.
I guess people do grow up. What is he, 23, now?
At 28, I cannot even remember what I was like then, or why I chose to date someone so deceptive.
He is married, which I knew already, and I genuinely hope he treats his wife with far more respect and love than he ever gave me.
It is pretty hard to accept an apology from a guy who left me and ran away to another country with my property never to return and married another person while away.
I will try to process this.

Featuring yours truly

2007-10-31T15:09:00.003-07:00

So my ultra-great cousin by marriage AJ (her dad was married to my mom's big sister for his first marriage, and AJ is the product of the second union) has inspired me to offer a bit more info about myself on this thing. She chose to use the ABC's as her medium, and I shall use the months...

January
2001--I transferred my happy ass to the University of Georgia from Georgia Southern University to enroll myself in the muy excellente Journalism program they offered. I made this decision on my own, and moved into a apartment with three girls I had never met. My first month in Athens was pretty different--a true party town indeed. There are more fake blondes, fake tans and fake Fendi's than you can shake a beer bong at, and I was, how can I put this... overwhelmed. Especially since I actually knew lots of the students from my hometown days, but now they wanted to be cool with me. The guys wanted a date. Guess I turned out pretty, and that made all the difference in the world to them. Little did they know I still remembered them as they all were. Can't forget your old enemies--they are locked in your mind from childhood.

February:
2007--I finally slammed a door shut on a guy that needed to be gone six months prior. I had been loved, then unloved, and I had not felt so crushed in a long time. The weirdest thing is that when a guy you "thought" you loved shows up at your door late at night--its all you ever wanted--and you all of a sudden realize you don't know who this person is. At all. Like even the things you had been mooning over for so long we completely invalidated by the presence of the actual person. You no longer want his near you, on you, close to you. You want to introduce yourself and be like, hey, um, I am Scarlet. You are? It was as if he was a stranger. The night went along on its necessary way, and when he left I called my friend and said, "I'm good. It's finally done." Finality echoed in my apartment, in our eyes, and in my heart. That was a good day.

March:
1980--I was born-ded! At 9:46 a.m., hence my cheerful morning personality that annoys all others, this glorious little one came into the world. The first of two children born these parents, I first showed my face in Davenport, Iowa, though a Southern girl by heritage. My entire family is in the South, but my dad was in school up there. I lived there for 6 months, and we moved back home. Anywho. It snowed in South Georgia the day I was born, and my Nannie (Dad's mom) and Grandmama (Mom's mom) both flew up to see me. I was 8 pounds, 7 ounces, and had a red face and yellowish skin from jaundice. I was, and still am, a very well-loved child. I came into a large and wonderful extended family, with 13 cousins already there, along with plentiful aunts and uncles and grandparents. My life has been blessed with love since the moment I came into this world.

April:
1992--I am fairly confident that this is the month in which my parents finalized their divorce. I was 12, and I knew it before they told me. An intuitive child, my parents have said. My mother instigated it, but it wasn't a fight. They had grown apart over the years since I was four and Dad chose to go back to med school and leave us in Atlanta. They never really lived together again after that, and both have agreed since then that that is no way to keep a marriage together. Dad did it for us, he says. Mom says she would have changed it all and gone with him. Both have said they were selfish, and should have made more of an effort for each other. One should have gone where the other went, out of loyalty to the family and the marriage they had promised to have forever. My brother was born in 1985, and he has never lived with my father in his home. In the August post I will tell the story of when Dad left us. But, needless to say, I know what hurt is.

May:
2003--I had a boyfriend of a year, and after I lovingly and carefully moved him back to Athens from Atlanta post-internship, he deplorably and recklessly dumped me. Literally that night. The moral of the story is that this was the first time I had experienced what a bad boyfriend can truly be like. Through the year, he had flirted in a line-crossing way with barhoppers, yelled, cheated, and actually bought me diamond earrings only to break up with me before giving them to me. He did give them to me, upon his "glorious" return to my life a week later. They were tiny. Heehee. Much like his brain and heart. The only question is what was I thinking bothering with him for a whole year?...

June:
1998--I graduated high school, and lost a great friend to pride. I broke his heart, and he couldn't be friends with me anymore. Understandably. Graduating high school though, was a thrill. Go Cougars! Not.

July:
2006--My former best friend, a Mormon, got engaged to a 40-year-old Muslim with 2 children. Our relationship has thusly ceased to exist, through no fault of mine. I am still in mourning for this loss. She was my closest, oldest friend. So, anyway.

August:
1984--I stood at the fence (you could back then) at the airport watching the runway that held the plane that held my daddy. My mom and his mom stood with me, and I cried and cried. That was the first time I remember that crushing feeling of abandonment, and I don't know if I have even been the same since. My father and I have always had a strained relationship, and the ripples of it have impacted my love life since I can remember. "Daddy Issues" they call it, but that seems trite. The fundamental issue is that the first man you loved leaves you for work, another wife, a new family, whatever, and you are are forever seeking a new man who will give you what your father didn't, couldn't, or wouldn't. Daughters need fathers, and when you don't grow up with that constant love, you are lacking in confidence in love. A father is meant to boost you, to show you what you are worth. If that is missing, it can take a lifetime of errors in judgment and a slew of broken hearts to see the forest for the trees. I am still healing. Seriously. So, be good parents. Put your children first, above all else.

September:
2007--I was fired for the first time. What an ego blow. I have never been told that I wasn't doing a good job before, so to be told by this lot of goobers what utterly insulting. I was thrown under the bus, so to say, and fell because my boss was afraid to lose a client. Still searching for new work.

October:
2002--I ended a good relationship with a loving, loyal man because he didn't celebrate our 1-year anniversary. I had told him it meant the world to me, but he did nothing. At 22, this was too much to handle. I felt discarded and unheard. Now, I see how lame that was. I think I just wanted a way out. I was too young for what a 27-year-old man wanted from me. I moved on quickly to someone else, but it took a long time for us to fully quit each other. He whispered to me in my sleep (so he thought) that he wanted to marry me and I simply didn't. He has since had a baby and married. In that order. We are still friends, and I went to his wedding. Awkward, since his family was there, and knew of me as the one who kicked his ass emotionally.

November:
2005--I found out the guy I had fallen for was actually only 19. I forgive myself for this, as he looked WAY older, had a great car, and worked as a bouncer. We continued on for almost a year. I had held him off for months, and finally one day, I let him take me out. I fell hard and fast, and it ended with him taking his Polish ass to Europe for three weeks right before our year, with my iPod and luggage mind you, and never returning. He never broke up with me, and I saw a friend of his out shortly after. I was informed that he had gotten engaged to someone else. I received an email after this from him, blaming me for his behavior. I couldn't even be bothered to reply. I have never seen or heard from him again. That was August 2006.

December:
Every year of my life--I get the privilege of spending the holidays with my loving and supportive, funny and intelligent family. I now have two, my father and his clan of my stepmom and three under-10's, and my mom and her clan of my stepdad, his son, and my brother. It is a beautiful time--even if I do have to split it in half to see them all.

So, that is 12 moments in my life. It jarred some emotions in me to write some of this, and now I am feeling introspective. Like that's new.
I have been loved, discarded, misunderstood, adored, and all the details of life in between. I have been so high on how great life was that I couldn't imagine how I could ever fall down, beaten and broken. But I have been so low as well that I can't visualize true happiness again.
I have lived a full life--I have not lacked for inspiration to move me onward. I have graduated college, fallen in and out of love, felt the depth of losses that are irretrievable, longed for more of everything.
I hope to have all my dreams come true, and for those around me to love me to the core of who I am.
Whoever that is.

Oh, Boston! Oh, Boston!

2007-10-26T10:04:00.003-07:00

I forgot to mention that this Southern belle is heading North for the weekend to see an adored and admired cousin, Blogging Barbie. She is a misplaced Northerner, meant to be here, but born up there. Her father is from my state.
Can't wait.

On the hunt for me.

2007-10-26T09:40:00.000-07:00

I have now been unemployed for almost 2 months. Yes, your Scarlet is now a frustrated member of the searching and needing work force.
I find myself at a loss daily; a loss of confidence, of goals, of plans, of certainty.
No matter where I turn, there is tumult. BR and I are struggling, my funds are running dry, my grandmother is failing, and I want a job. Badly.
I feel so empty without a daily goal. My self-esteem and pride are tied to my success, I finally realized, and I am lacking. Everyone who cares for me has said that I am being to hard on myself, that I should be patient, that I am not all that I feel I am.
Loser, disappointment, disgrace, failure.
I wake each day from a restless sleep full of dreams of betrayals, pain, and hurt, shake off the cobwebs, and wash my face.
I take my laptop to the local Starbucks, buy the cheapest thing they have (an iced green tea or a iced vanilla coffee, for those in need), and check the listings.
I apply with enthusiasm and a full resume, and yet, nothing. How can we, my pride and I ask each other, still have not found anything to do with ourselves??
As any true Southern lady, I maintain my composure and refrain from outbursts in public arenas. But also like a true Southern lady, my emotions run deep, my pride is fierce, and my need to present myself well is overwhelming. I simply cannot abide this feeling that I am under water and slipping from the grasp of reality. I cannot abide the feeling that others are viewing my life with disdain.
I feel consistently at loose ends without a job to be proud of--I interviewed at one of the South's finest companies this week, and was so happy with the interview. Sadly, I fear my best efforts didn't persuade them that I was the ideal candidate, and I am just. too. bummed.
On the BR note: He and I have been together almost 7 months. While we are mostly good, we have been at odds this week and he seems to want to run. BR says 90% of him wants to hold me, and the other 10% wants to run. "It's what I do. It's my track record," he says. I said,"Stop, then." I adore him, and know he is so good-hearted, and so sweet. Still waters run deep, and he as still as stone. He cares so much for me, and I for him, so how do we keep this together? How do we not run away? If we run here, and have before with others, are we destined to always run from love?
So, as you can see, this Scarlet is at odds with life. God and I are facing off, and the Devil is dancing on my head in delight at my woes. I am grateful for the love of family and friends, but I need more than that to keep my life moving.
Unlike Blanche, who says in Streetcar Named Desire,"I have always relied on the kindness of strangers." I prefer to rely on the strength of me-I guess I need to find it again.

suicide in my family.

2007-09-03T14:15:00.000-07:00

my cousin killed himself last night.
my father and his mother are brother and sister, but we haven't been close for several years. that side of the family just doesn't stick together as much as my mom's side. my younger brother and i weren't even invited to his wedding a few years back.
anyway, my father called me this morning, early, which is out of character.
when i called him back, that was the news.
it is so odd, having a family member commit suicide, that i don't think i have processed it at all. he was troubled, that's for sure, but how do you get to that point where a loaded gun is the only light at the end of your tunnel? where there is nothing left to say, to do, to bother with? when there is no one you can turn to in trust for help?
my cousin eric had been through a lot, what in particular i will not disclose here, out of respect for the person he used to be. he had dealt with what he had to, and seemed OK. as far as i know, nothing he had dealt with was any larger of an issue than those dealt with by other people, but maybe it was larger than him.
i just want to say, to whoever may read this, one simple thing.
we are never alone. you may feel completely abandoned by everyone you ever loved, left behind in your career, crushed by love. you may believe there is nothing to hold tight to in your life.
just hold tight to you. you were created for a reason, you are loved in this world, and the life you may desire to end is the most important thing you ever had control over. if you just can't take another day, call for help. just pick up the phone, and call 911, and ask for help. you are not alone, ever.
we are each given the gift of one single angel whose world revolves around us--they watch us sleep, make love, cry, yell, love. they hold us when we need to be held, and it breaks them to watch us suffer. they are God's love embodied.
my point is that if you ever feel completely alone, remember that you simply aren't.

My dog.

2007-07-20T10:51:00.000-07:00

My Golden Retriever is dying, and we have to put him down in this weekend.
I have had this dog for almost 13 years, and he is the sweetest.
He has been my sweetheart through countless boyfriends, fights with friends, through high school, college and my early adulthood.
He is always happy to see me--I will kiss his wet little snoot, rub his ears, nuzzle him all he wants.
He is smelly, old, and I love him more than almost anyone.
This is one of the saddest things I have ever felt.
I am his favorite, and he is mine.
I could always count on him to come right over the minute I walk into my parents' home.
Now he can't walk, and we can't let him live that way.
The vet thinks he may have cancer of some kind, but who knows.
He is no longer able to enjoy himself, and it is time.
Champ has been a wonderful, truly good dog, and I will miss him very much.

Clients.

2007-06-29T08:15:00.000-07:00

Grrr. This huge client has lots of little subsidiaries, and I was designing a standard-corporate piece for him today.
He realizes I am new, and proceeds to sass me and try to get me to make his stuff different...
I have no hand.
I have no power.
I cannot just give this one guy something that his corporate bosses haven't approved as the brand standard.
How annoying.

from what i recall...

2007-06-28T12:14:00.000-07:00

earliest memories:
sitting on the kitchen counter at the townhome my mom, dad, and i lived in, and watching mom cook. i put my hand on the spiral electric cooktop. burned it badly.

being in the hospital when i was 7 with cellulitis, chicken pox, and scarlet fever. remember being pale, small, and sick, and that the cake my dad got for my birthday when i got home was coffee flavored chocolate. not my thing at that age.

the family at granny ruby's when dad had the new huge vhs camera. he recorded us by the fence with the billy goats.

finding out i had a new little brother while standing in the kitchen at martha and george's eating peanut butter and honey sandwiches.

being afraid to go into my kindergarten class, and then seeing courtney hudson and sarah loy and being ok because i knew them from pre-school.

being at mimi's house learning old spirituals with kate langgood, brooke, and tyler middleton. mitch was not a good man. mimi gave us the playhouse in the back for our own, and we had butterfly style chairs in green and yellow. there were lots of yellow jackets in the yard.

being at the arts center learning to paint watercolors.

being at the roswell rec swimming each summer.

the christmas morning that "dad" got a new, bigger keyboard. it was really mine. i thought santa gave it to him.

eating avocado pieces in nannie and papa's kitchen--may have been in high chair.

rolling on my stomach on the little ottoman's in the tv room in nannie and papa's house.

jumping the waves with grandmama and harper.

watching ricky rattman on mtv with cynthia.

never wanting to go bed, always wanting to stay downstairs with mom in the townhouse--i was always just "resting my eyes."

my first recital in the pink and silver tutu for tap class. i was one of the shorter kids.

going with nannie and mom to the airport to take dad when he went back to school. hanging onto the chain-link fence, not wanting him to leave.

my first dog brandy being hit by a car after she jumped the fence at nannie and papa's, and mom telling me we had to put her down. yelling "please don't kill my dog."

playing with nannie and papa's dog gigi the bassett hound in the yard.

Dream a little dream...

2007-06-28T10:20:00.000-07:00

I hadn't realized how much I liked and missed writing on here until I saw a good friend's blog that she created for her son.
I love to write, and I simply haven't taken the time to do so recently.
In my life, I tend to misplace the things I love to do on my own time once I am busier with either work or relationships.
So, I will now attempt to make more of an effort to write about what's happening inside this pretty little head. Or rather this gigantic cranium, as Mike Myers said.
I have often limited my dreams.
I know that sounds strange, as dreams by nature are meant to be bigger than life. We are meant to dream for the huge, hope for the large, and attain the normal.
However, I have a fear of wanting something, having others know I wanted it, and then not being able to have it.
I fear it has something to do with being afraid of being made fun of.
I mean, just imagine if I were to say, "World, I truly want to fall madly in love, get married to a wonderful man on a beautiful mountain in a beautiful dress with a gorgeous ring, and have perfectly healthy children and be financially successful, and live and long, happy, and fruitful life. Oh, and I plan to do all this without gaining any weight, ever, and never having any wrinkles, never crying, and never being disappointed."
If I dare to articulate that, if I DARE to whisper that, I fear it will never happen, and I will look a fool.
Embarrassment is unbearable.
I also didn't stand up for myself when I was passed over for a promotion. I told them it was "fine." I never said, "YOU ARE WRONG. I can do this. I am capable."
So, here is a new dream:
I want to travel to a new place every year until I keel over and die. National or international, I just want to get out there and do it. I want to see the world I live in, like I started to two years ago, when I traveled up the East Coast and then to England. That felt good, and I want to do it again!

Metamorphosis.

2007-06-28T07:34:00.000-07:00

It has been a million minutes since last wrote on this blog.
So much has changed, like always.
I wonder if things ever stop, just for a moment. Can we ever sit with life before it all changes again?
Not all changes are huge, mind-blowing ones, but all have some sort of effect. Positive, negative, sometimes both...
In the short-term changes can be horrible, painful events, forcing us to go deep inside and pull out more of ourselves just to hang on.
In the long-term these same changes can send us down the paths we are meant to walk, on to the things meant for us, if we could only get out of our way.
Since I last wrote I have been in two more relationships and am in a really good new one right now, changed jobs, moved to a new apartment.
I have watched my stepbrother enter, and then leave for, the Navy.
I have watched my brother walk down the graduation aisle and become an active member of the workforce.
My cousins have become engaged and married, my grandmothers have grown older and sicker.
My father still works all the time and my half-siblings are little people who go to school and make friends and offer their opinions.
They look like we all do--serious eyebrows, assessing and attentive eyes, high cheekbones, and a flair for the dramatic. There are five of us my dad calls his own, and you can tell we are all related. It's like my dad was broken into 5 pieces, and each of us got one or two major qualities that he possesses that show in us like they are being magnified.
I am creative and always analyzing the world around me.
Hamilton is brilliant and a hard worker.
Caroline is literary and reserved.
Marc Davison is funny and outgoing.
Elizabeth likes to be the center of it all.
They have changed from kids to people with thoughts, and it is fun to get to know them. Where tiny babies once slept, real people now play, learn, live.
My mother and stepfather are now empty-nesters, and they love it.
My stepmother has become a wonderful friend when I need her. So different from 11 years ago.
My point is that changes come because God thinks they should. End of story.
There is no point in worrying, questioning, wondering why life happens.
It just does!
I have struggled and cried, triumphed and failed, felt losses and gains that I never thought possible, and life is all coming together.
This is not the end of the line, of course.
I will lose and win again, I will laugh and cry some more. I will hope for that which will not come, and and receive that which I never thought to hope for, but which is perfect for me.
I will take more steps and my path will continue upward and onward and I will live my life as it comes.
Change is a mysterious thing, and we are constantly in its path.

Been a LONG time

2005-11-22T06:58:00.000-08:00

Wow, it has been ages. I have moved, dated two people, found a new great job, been to England, and read 3 or 4 books...
England was lovely! I hung out with great people, saw ancient sites, ate incredible Indian, Greek and Chinese food, walked to the train stations, took a boat down the River Thames, wandered 2 castles, spent days exploring, and generally fell in love with travel.
I left my job in Athens, went corporate in Atlanta, and can finally comfortably make ends meet. My family and dearest friends are nearby, and my commute is just 12 mintues.
I get to see my best friend frequently, my closest friends almost weekly, and invest in a 401K.
I am thinking of adopting dog--not a puppy, but a toddler, maybe.
I dated a man who lives in England, but the distance is too great. I adored him though. It seems unfair that the people who want to be the best we could ever have tend to be out of reach. It is like a gorgeous rose bush that gets cut off as the bloom springs forth. Like stopping a singer from singing as the first stunning note flows out. Like stopping a perfect kiss when you get that first chill.
Anyway, I have dated since I got back from England, and I left that guy in the dust last week.
When asked point-blank if he was "seeing" other people--he said no.
He lied. Couldn't understand why I thought that was something I should know...
Insane.

Cowboy Boots!

2005-08-17T17:32:00.000-07:00

I finally got a pair of cowboy boots. I have been wanting a pair since I can remember, but never got to it for some reason...
Ordered them yesterday, they should be here next weekend.
So excited and cannot wait to pull them on and get them dirty.

I love being a Southerner.

2005-08-15T11:56:00.000-07:00

I know, I know.
We all say that. But there is nothing like it.
We are warm, funny, loyal as hell.
We eat good food--certain things are just associated with us-- sweet tea, cornbread, fried chicken, fresh tomatoes, corn on the cob, peaches, and peanuts.
I am Georgian. A former debtor's colony. The Deep South.
One of the best places in the world.
I am so attached--it is so damn lovely here.
Slower, nicer, greener, warmer.
We all speak with this lilt in our voices, the sound of hundreds of years of farmland and plantations.
A hundred years of taking it two steps slower than everyone else.
The air is sweet with honeysuckle and wet grass and magnolias.
The light is clean and bright, even the water runs clearer down here.
People say thank you, you're welcome, please and excuse me.
Even when we are talking about something bad, we preface it with," Bless her heart, but..."
Or, "He's sweet as all get out, but..."
I love it here.
It's like nothing else.
It will always be home, like nowhere else could be.

time is unforgiving.

2005-07-25T14:29:00.000-07:00

ever have those days where your spirits are low, but there isn't really a particular reason they should be?
albeit, i have had some relationship ick as of late, but it is more than that.
for example, right now, i am listening to damien rice at work, and i feel wistful, mournful, nostalgic and sad.
something feels familiar about this feeling.
i remember that this is how i feel during transitions.
a bit sad about leaving things behind, and like a child, i mope around a bit until things get set straight again.
in the past few months, a dear friend and i had a falling out, and though i apologized, the grudgeholder is tight-fisted and shows no sign of releasing her prideful grip.
i lost another person i thought was going to be around for a while, my ex, but he is no more. gone with the proverbial wind.
so, i am experiencing that distinct feeling of loss that comes with transitions.
when things change you are left with missing pieces of you, and the only thing to fill them up is more experience, more time.
nothing more, nothing less.
as damien says "time. always time. on my mind. don't pass me by, i'll be fine. just give me time."
still, it is sad to lose.
friends and lovers become whispers on my memory, just gray ribbons of time and space filling up the gray matter in my mind.
things are so sadly forgotten.
funny memories, happy times, promises lost to time.
such an unkind and cold master.
there is a sliver of bright light, that, if i painted it, might be glowing white, on my horizon. i am falling for another man, one who embodies many things i value at my core. so, though now is painful, the future is bright. just give me a bit of time.

Dreams.

2005-07-25T10:07:00.000-07:00

I dreamt last night that I was at a party-it may have been at my ex-boyfriend's parents home, where he lives.
As my dreams are often very realistic, the situation between us was as it is in real life--negative and fading away quickly.
I haven't heard from him in weeks, so in my dream at this party I am looking for him, because I am seeking an apology.
I go to his messy room and see all the things I have given him stuffed away in drawers, out of sight from others.
I pull them all out, and throw them everywhere--then I hear him.
He is in the bathroom, and comes out--wearing his leather jacket and with this macho attitude.
He sees me and avoids me completely.
I chase after him, through the party, demanding an apology for his actions toward me.
A friend of his in the dream, who I am supposed to know but have never seen in real life, tells me this:
"He was angry that he even had to do what his heart told him to, that is, talk to you and say he was sorry."
The friend, a handsome Italian-looking guy, then kisses me on the cheek, angering Aleks, who is watching.
I tell him to bugger off, that he owes me an apology.
He gives it to me, reluctantly, and with little emotion.
Then the dream switched to me seeking refuge with some guys I knew from high school, trying to find a place to sleep.
I feel like we were on a river, or a boat, or something fluid.
They let me in, and suddenly I am holding my long dark hair in my hand and cutting it short.
My girlfriends are all around, and they are saying it looks good.

I looked up all this, and basically, it means I am eliminating bad habits and influences from my life, while seeking strength and a return to my true self and values.

Interesting how our minds paint us little pictures to illustrate our deepest feelings.

I want to feel this way about someone!

2005-07-22T12:38:00.000-07:00

"Til Kingdom Come"

Steal my heart and hold my tongue.
I feel my time, my time has come.
Let me in, unlock the door.
I've never felt this way before.

The wheels just keep on turning,
The drummer begins to drum,
I don't know which way I'm going,
I don't know which way I've come.

Hold my hand inside your hands,
I need someone who understands.
I need someone, someone who hears,
For you, I've waited all these years.

For you, I'd wait 'til kingdom come.
Until my day, my day is done.
And say you'll come, and set me free,
Just say you'll wait, you'll wait for me.

In your tears and in your blood,
In your fire and in your flood,
I hear you laugh, I heard you say,
"I wouldn't change a single thing."

The wheels just keep on turning,
The drummers begin to drum,
I don't know which way I'm going,
I don't know what I've become.

For you, I'd wait 'til kingdom come,
Until my days, my days are done.
Say you'll come and set me free,
Just say you'll wait, you'll wait for me.
Just say you'll wait, you'll wait for me.
Just say you'll wait, you'll wait for me.

Moving on.

2005-07-19T14:27:00.000-07:00

My last relationship has come to an end, and that seems OK.
I was deceived and lost a few things that were important to me along the way through this one, and that is a bummer.
It can seem so amazing how people can hurt each other, and yet still, in and of themselves, be decent.
However, as I am not feeling very kind right now, I can assert that this is not a very nice person.
It appears that I have once again been tricked into thinking someone was something they weren't.
I won't bore you with the details, but just know that no amount of poking, prodding, or depth of intimacy could get this particular ex tell the whole truth. Even when he swore he was.
Sad, really.
And now he wants to be a member of the Catholic Church.
Now that is funny.
So, I work, I sleep, I dream big, and I hope.
That is all that can be done.

Leaving in the morning!

2005-07-08T13:21:00.000-07:00

"The time has come," the Walrus said,"to talk of other things..."--Alice in Wonderland
The time has come for my solo sojourn into what I consider three of the most important cities on the East Coast.
Given the bombing just yesterday in London, I am really sort of scared.
I am using the Amtrak to travel between DC, NYC and Boston, and I am using the subways in each city.
Arlington Cemetery, St. Patrick's Cathedral, The Freedom Trail, Ground Zero, and more and more and more.
I am known to be a bit of a chicken about things, but I will be damned if I let some angry, misguided person hellbent on killing ruin my carefully plotted and well-deserved vacation.
I have every right to visit my country's cities and feel safe doing so.
They have no right to make anyone feel threatened, and yet they seem to think they do.
Mind-boggling.
Anyway, I am headed out for a week on my own, and I hope I get from this what I hoped to get.
Peace, solace, and knowledge--and to feel a part of the world, rather than an observer of it.

I love...

2005-07-06T16:47:00.000-07:00

Crickets--especially those huge black and orange ones in the garden--2 inches, no lie
Japanese beetles
Blue raspberry ice pops in the plastic sleeves
Corn dogs (veggie or regular)
Planning trips to places I have never been
Coke with a lemon over crushed ice
Black, blue, red and hot pink
My cell phone
Tegan and Sara-kick ass "I'M SO FAR AWAY AND I JUST CAN'T SEE YOU, I'M SO FAR ALONG AND I JUST DON'T NEED YOU..."
That is good shite.
80's hair metal in the vein of Poison and Motley Crue-it is an illness, I know
Classical--especially "The Flight of the Bumblebee" and "Canon in D Minor"--yummy
Having a fun alcohol buzz while with trusted, fun friends at a great location
My mom's hugs
Any and all dogs--no matter how stinky
My dad's laugh
Sitting in the sunshine that comes through the window in the late afternoon
Movies with Hugh Grant or Colin Firth--I love British men.
Inside jokes
Saving drowning earthworms off the pavement
Frogs--I love love love love love them. So cute and weird
The song "Purple Rain"
The inside of a church when no one else is there... so calm and strong...such a sense of respect and awe
Singing loudly in the car to chick music and hard rock and ghetto rap
Certain country songs that make me cry, as per "The Dance" by Garth Brooks
My life, even when it is hard. At least I feel something!

Oh, those hilarious Brits...

2005-07-06T14:10:00.000-07:00

I am close with a British man who actually lives in England, and he is the funniest person I have ever talked to.
So quick, witty and clever--speaking to him is like verbal football.
We both try to get things past the other, and usually one of us makes a GOAL, leaving the other in tears laughing so hard.
And the accent isn't bad either.

4 MORE DAYS!

2005-07-05T12:05:00.000-07:00

I am heading out to DC then NYC then Boston and Salem in just 4 days.
This is my first solo trip, so I am totally pumped.
Wahoo!

Da Family.

2005-06-29T13:30:00.001-07:00

My cousins Harper and Benjamin have offered me the use of their Greenwich Village apartment while I am in the city for two days.
They are my age and we were all in the womb at the same time--our moms are sisters.
This should make my mom feel better than the idea of me sleeping in a hostel in a city like NYC.
But this should be good- because I will have a room because Benj won't be there those days.
Wahoo!
So, all I have left to do is choose the things I HAVE to see to make this trip worthwhile.
My short list?
Here you go:
DC-
Reflection Pool
White House--if only to make mean faces at the US hierarchy of greed and evil
Lincoln Memorial
...must look into other local cool things to see and do...will get back to that one.
Boston
Al Dente on the North End for Italian
Back Bay--you can walk and walk and walk, and there is always something
Filene's Closet--rad vintage and designer stuff for uber-cheap
...also need to look into the coolness here.
NYC-
A small club rock show
St. Patrick's Cathedral
Central Park
Gray's Papaya for a hot dog the likes of which I have never seen...
Greenwich Village--where my family conveniently lives
H&M-cheap cool clothes.
...more investigation necessary here as well.

Gonna go now.

2005-06-28T22:15:00.000-07:00

I am flying to DC on July 9th, and staying the day and night there at a cool hostel about 5 blocks from the White House. On the morning of July 10th, I am taking the train to NYC, and staying in a hostel in Chelsea for 2 days and nights. The morning of July 12th I am taking the train to Boston, and staying there for 2 days and 2 nights.
I am heading over to Salem to check out the witch trial stuff on one of those days, as it is only 30 minutes by train.
So excited to be heading out on my own to see some stuff.
I fly back from Boston to Atlanta on July 14th, and then head to the beach with my family.
The weekend will be bittersweet because we are going to the beach to spread my aunt's ashes.
She died of leukemia last summer. Kind of a tough time for us.
I sent away for my passport, so that is also exciting--now I can run away when I want if I get the money!
I just have this inner stirring to get out there and get moving.
25 isn't young, you know? Not old, but still old enough to feel like time could be slipping away.
I mean, I still feel like I am 22--I actually told someone that was how old I was.
I meant it too.
So, point being--GLAD TO HAVE BOOKED MY FLIGHTS AND MY TRAIN PASSES AND MY HOSTELS.
I was starting to feel the grass growing under my feet.

NO, but really.

2005-06-27T17:38:00.000-07:00

Let me out of here! It is twenty minutes until I get to go home, but there is no more excitement there than there is here... Must. Find. Way. Out. Going. Mad. Talking. To. Self.
I seem to be spiraling into a sort of travel fixation.

Let me out of here!

2005-06-27T13:13:00.000-07:00

I am so stir crazy it is unreal. I am sitting at work, slowly going blind at my $6000 Mac G4, and all I can think about is the fact that people is traveling in Europe and not worrying about a thing, swimming in foreign oceans, viewing native art.
Lucky.
I have got to find a way to get out of here.
To leave for 3 months, I have to set aside $2000 minimum to pay for my car, my insurance, and my health insurance. Not to mention, I need to change my cell plan to the lowest possible one, and set aside money for that too.
Arggh.
I want to stroll in Italy, eat in Spain, swim in Portugal, and hike the Tatras in Poland. I want out of this daily, dreary, boring life.
At least for a while.
I am withering away over here.

What do you want to do with your life?

2005-06-25T23:37:00.000-07:00

I just found this great site, where you get 43 spaces to fill in your goals. I have 7 so far. What happens is that you write your goal, add an entry about it, and then it shows you how many other members have that same goal. It shows you what other people have said about their experience, and also if they have done the goal, if they think it was worth doing or not. The best thing about it is that you are given 5 "cheers" each day, and you can read other people's goals, and give them one of your 5 cheers in support. The whole idea is that you get people to open up and share their goals for life, and then others make supportive suggestions. You can even choose the option to offer to help them meet the goal, if you have any experience or contacts or sources for what they hope to achieve.
I think it is so great. I like to see what other people have as personal aspirations. Very enlightening, and also cool because it gives me amazing ideas I have never thought of before.
It makes the world seem huge!
The site is www.43things.com if anyone wants to join.
Now, shoo, and go figure out what you want your life to be.

Yo quiero hablar espanol mas bueno.

2005-06-24T11:23:00.000-07:00

Esta blog es en espanol--Estoy hablando en espanol todo el tiempo para divertir, pero creo que es muy importante para el mundo profesional y internacional. No soy muy buena en las lenguas ahora. Me duele la cabeza!

Riding bikes rocks!

2005-06-13T19:47:00.000-07:00

When you are young, every day is spent doing things that feel fun and just plain good.
But as we age, we lose the time and magic and moments it takes to appreciate how good simple fun can be.
We begin to close ourselves in.
In the car.
In the classroom.
In the office.
In the house.
I wanted out.
So, today, I strapped on my $10 pink Wal-Mart tennis shoes, and tossed my ridiculous amounts of hair into a high ponytail.
I grabbed that bright yellow bike, and took off.
Wow.
WOW.
The smell of flowers and trees, fresh in the summer sun.
The sound of the wheels turning round and round, taking me away, back to my youth.
The wind blowing through my hair--I felt like a kid!
It was a wonderful way to unwind after a day stuck in an office with no windows.
Wow.

just a little thing i did.

2005-06-13T15:26:00.000-07:00

Once anchored in a calm port,
A pristine, waveless bay.
Though many came and went,
I never lost my way.
Now I am tossed about in choppy seas,
The shoreline slips away,
And I face a lifetime course
As the bright port fades to gray.
The depth on which I now float,
The heights to which we fly,
Childish innocence is lost,
Tears of joy and passion we cry.
The plentiful currents pull me to them,
Offering their paths,
But I know the one I want,
So I open my sails, and face the sea's wrath.

Planning a wedding.

2005-06-11T12:59:00.000-07:00

It is such an interesting process to not be the bride (which I am not), but to still get to go see the dresses, the flowers, the reception hall, and the church.
It is all so intricate and complex, the way two people (and the endless stream of family members) create this special day, where they join their lives together.
My cousin is getting married this December, and she sadly lost her mother this past year of leukemia.
So, my mother and my aunt and I went with her today to help ask the right questions and offer suggestions.
I have been declared "idea person for table centerpieces at the reception."
This is a great job for me, as I am ultra-creative and love to make others happy.
The wedding is near Christmas, and her bridesmaids are in red, which I love, so I suggested we use votive candles floating in water in red glass bowls with a flower included, maybe a red rose, and a mirror underneath so the light will bounce and glimmer.
I love the planning of these things.
It is so exciting and romantic, and when the time comes for me to get married, far in the future I will have thousands of ideas for what to do, based on my friends and family!
Such fun!

I love Disney World!

2005-06-01T10:56:00.000-07:00

So I am a chicken. I went to Orlando to visit Disney World for the Memorial Day weekend. It was gorgeously sunny, a bit breezy, with no really really long wait times for the rides, and plenty of sunscreen to avoid the big bad burn.
I rode everything I wanted to: It's A Small World (required--now they have everyone), Mad Hatter's Tea Party (I til I was dizzy), Snow White in the Forest (my favorite), Peter Pan, Mickey's Haunted Mansion (great ghosts and scary stuff), Stitch's Great Escape (a smelly ride where the little alien spits and passes gas-ew!), Buzz Lightyear (so much fun--all blacklights and competitive alien hunting (I scored a pathetic 4000), Jungle Cruise, The Animal Kingdom Safari (awesome--giraffes, lions, everything!), Spaceship Earth, Universe of Energy (cool dinosaurs that spit water at you), Astro Orbiter (rocket ships that fly you in really high circles), Indy500 Race Track, and The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror (the thing bounces and drops you about 3 times randomly and you float during the drop because it is so fast--I closed my eyes the whole time).
I wanted to go on Body Wars, where you battle red blood cells and swim through the veins of a person--so cool to me, the doctor's daughter, and also Pirates of the Caribbean--somehow both were closed. Sad me.
The most amazing stationary thing I saw was the Tree of Life at the center of the Animal Kingdom. It is a huge carved sculpture of an African tree, complete with green leaves and exposed roots. On the trunk are carvings of different animals--the tree had to easily be at least 100 feet across and 500 feet high. You could see it from everywhere in the park.
The hotel was great--the room overlooked the pool, which had a huge sculpture of three koi-style fish squirting water. I ate at The Living Seas Pavillion restaurant, The Coral Reef, at the best table in the house on Monday. I got to sit right next to the giant 5.7 million gallon salt-water aquarium. It is so big that just one inch of water taken from the surface could fill an entire standard swimming pool. It was stunning.
There were manta rays, goliath grouper, tons of cool colorful fish, and lots of neat coral and rocks.
It was a bit weird to be sitting there admiring the fish, and eating Mahi-Mahi at the same time... but what are you gonna do, you know? I think the fish were glaring at me though...
All in all, a completely perfect vacation.

I love summer.

2005-05-23T10:23:00.000-07:00

This is the best time of year--the sun is out all the time, gorgeous flowers are blooming in my front yard, the doors to the house are always open to let in a breeze (and the occasional irritating fly) and I get to sleep on top of the covers without getting cold. I spent this weekend hanging out with my brother, who came to my lovely city to vegetate for a day, and the rest of it curled up and falling in and out of sleep. There was a lot of eating of yummy foods in small amounts on multiple plates, like little indoor picnics.
When there is nothing pressing to do, you can really relax and just rest your mind.
The past few months have been pretty intense, with me working at my regular job and getting my freelance business going, plus trying to maintain my relationship and friendships when almost everyone I love lives in others cities.
Now, both of my pressing freelance jobs are completed, my money is in the mail, and I can chill for a few weeks before delving into more work. All I have to do is work my day job right now.
So, it is nice to be able to lay in my room and not be worried that I forgot to do something, or that I have to be somewhere.
The only thing that never ends is bills and rent. Blar.
But I still love summer, even though my hair gets curly, and turns auburn, and my freckles come out to play on my nose and arms.
Damn English blood. Damn Irish blood. Damn Meditteranean and Native American blood.:)
The best thing about this summer is that this weekend I am going to Disney World. I plan to get no sleep, too much sun, and ride all the rides.
I have Saturday, Sunday and some of Monday, so I planning ahead to make sure I do all the stuff I want to do, since that is not a ton of time.
I am so excited--I feel like a kid!
Wahoo, summertime! Wahoo, Disney World!
I love summer!!!

A lovely day.

2005-05-16T01:44:00.000-07:00

One of my best friends from college got married this weekend, at the beach. It was so lovely. I was a bridesmaid, and so were 6 other girls, so it was a ton of fun. As I am the shortest girl, I came in first with my escort, and got to leave last. We walked down the center of the chairs to one of the most heartbreakingly beautiful songs--Canon in D Minor by Pachelbel. When I saw her standing there at the top of the beachhouse stairs, with her brother--who walked her down the aisle--I got so choked up. I looked and saw that everyone in the bridal party was emotional--we all had tears in our eyes.
Then the most perfect song played. Somewhere Over the Rainbow--the version from 50 First Dates. It is played by a Hawaiian singer, and it is just perfect. She came down the aisle and all eyes were on her. Her husband looked so happy to see her--he kept whispering, I love you, I love you.
They said their own vows, which were succinct and sweet, and left to a great Van Morrison song, which also fit them perfectly.
It was one of the most magical days of my life. Jenny and James Rutherford have a way with each other that makes you know it can be perfect if you let it.
She danced to Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton with her brother, and that was even more emotional.
You have to know Jenny to understand, but she is one of the beautiful people. The ones that you feel better being around. It really showed in the wedding how great and special a person she truly is. And James, well, he is worthy of her. He gets her, and sees who she is, and loves her for all the small details and the huge issues.
Just a lovely day. I hope they have a lovely life.

The Queen of Dairy.

2005-05-09T16:50:00.000-07:00

It is so hot outside that I was forced, maniPULATED, DRIVEN TO EXTREMES! I had to hand over my check card and make my co-worker/minion (if you can have only one minion) go to Dairy Queen and get us Reese's Cups Blizzards. It was horrible. I hate ice cream. But it is so hot outside the minute I went out my hair started to frizz and curl. I do not like this.
So, there I was, ingesting cold, chocolatey goop--which I mentioned I hate--just to cool off. Its texture was too smooth, its flavor too sweet, it chunks of chocolate too chunky, its coldness to cold. I hated every minute of it. That's why I ate the whole thing. To remind myself why I NEVER eat ice cream. Ever.
Alright, I'm lying. I love ice cream. I wasn't forced, manipulated or coerced. I was hungry. But I shouldn't have, cause now I am so full and tired and could fall asleep under my desk in about 10 seconds if given the opportunity.
Hmmm... I wonder if I can pull it off.
And by the way--how silly is the name "Dairy Queen?" Was is opened by a gay man with a love of dairy? Why not Dairy King? Or Dairy Princess? Or Dairy DemiGod?

My first dollar(s)!!!

2005-05-09T14:52:00.000-07:00

Yippee! I got my check in the mail from my first freelance graphic design job--it was with Rolling Stone--wow. I put it in the bank, and life is good. I am now working on another job with a company in Georgia, redesigning their logo and slogan. Kind of tough, though, as the client is wanting a NASCAR-type theme, and they aren't even in the car business. People don't understand that your look is everything the client first sees. It has to make sense or they won't trust your business. But I can work with it.
So, I am not dying of tongue cancer. That thing went away again, and I am just not going to worry with it. This is new for me, but I can try, right?
On to a more puzzling situation:
My mother told me yesterday, in front of my family--cousins and aunt and uncle included; even cousin's new fiance we were meeting for the first time--as we sat at the dining room table laughing and being silly, mind you --that she could "only be as silly as me when she was DRUNK."
Yep. Now, I was imitating a French person at the time, and I was all, Schmiggly, schmiggly, hon hon hon, and whatnot, but come on. It was part of the conversation. Is that supposed to be a compliment? Is she impressed that I can let loose without being ripped? Or is she being sarcastic, and is telling me I act like a drunk?
I don't act like a drunk. All my friends and my boyfriend laugh at me when I am silly, and they think I am funny. If I were a drunk, I'd be slurring and taking my shirt off and dancing on the table. As that does not happen--EVER, I think it is safe to say I am generally amusing, not ridiculous. I hope. That's what people say. I make them laugh. I am fun.
So, back to the incident.
I said a quiet," Umm, thanks mom."
Then I just stopped talking. And smiling. I went home shortly thereafter.
Parents sure do know how to kick you in the face when you are smiling, huh.

OK. Freelancing is hard.

2005-04-30T20:34:00.000-07:00

Currently trying to create new slogan for multi-million dollar office supply business. Also working on new logo--much easier--more my thing--and monthly flyers and weekly postcards. All for same business. Yikes. Also trying to maintain full-time day job, and personal relationships. I need to get my Web page finished and submit paperwork to make my freelance business an LLC,so if I lose everything, I don't lose my private life and its money, only that of my business. Mucho importante. Very excited though. Ready to get more financially successful. Need to finally pick a damn font for Into Midair Design brand identity materials, and get materials printed ASAP. Need to create business cards for my soon-to-be partner, who will take care of marketing and sales, acquiring new business for Into Midair Design. Also not my thing. Definitely his thing. Need to get all paperwork set in stone, and invest in fax machine for home office. Also thinking of getting updated software, if possible, as it works just plain better. Need to set up files to keep track of client invoices, so as to avoid horrible future audit, and loss of entire life. Yikes, again. Oh, my. Such details involved in pursuing a dream. Maybe that is why so many give up.

Mabbie eats Spatulas

2005-04-26T19:04:00.000-07:00

My dog roommates , Bolliger and Mabbie, a Great Dane and a chow-retriever mix respectively, are wonderful. But of course, as they are dogs, they have a tendency to be kind of gross in the eyes of a person.
Case in point: Mabbie ate the spatula today. I came home to a half-chewed, sticky wet half-of-a-spatula tonight after work. She refused eye contact with me, so I knew immediately that it was her. Well, that and the fact that Bolli would have made huge bite marks, and cats don't do that. ( I live with two of them also. Another day.)
So, I couldn't help it, and made up a rap about it--I was the voice of Mabbie:
WickaWickaWicka
Mabbie eats spa--tulas, spa-tulas
Mabbie eats spa--tulas, spa-tulas
WickaWickaWicka
Mabbie: I always be eating those spatulas
Chewing and loving on spatulas
I be liking them spa---tulas, spa--tulas
Bolli:Yo, I'm Bolli and I don't eat spatulas
I don't be digging on spatulas,
Mabbie: Bolli best not be taking my spatulas
WickaWickaWicka

Yep. This is what happens when you live with animals. You start acting like a total goofball.
It is fun though.

Mad cash for me, yo.

2005-04-26T11:03:00.000-07:00

I got a new freelance account-- my mother's friend from high school owns a multi-million dollar office center in south Georgia, and she wants to work with me on her new designs! A monthly flyer, a weekly postcard, a logo redesign and a slogan rewrite. Wahoo! This is fun times! I am so pumped. Steady income for me, doing something I love. And I have great lipgloss. Life is nice. Yesterday was tough, but today is good.

Out Come The Wolves

2005-04-25T02:46:00.000-07:00

Today is the day where I go, " Hmmm. Perhaps I should hide under my desk, and wait for the wolves to come eat me. No sense in avoiding them."
So-I have a huge cell phone bill, but always make my payments on time. Call T-mobile for help--possible payment plan? Break down charge over next few months, perhaps? NO. If do so, will have service interrupted, and pay late fee. Put charges on Discover card. Very angry--what is the point of being solid, good customer, if you get treated like a bad one for one error? Assholes. Now I am paying INTEREST on calls to best friend, boyfriend, and mom.
My boss let her grandkids play with my personal things in my office this weekend. There were little notes about "I love Grandma" all over my desk. On my cute stationary that I got as a gift for my birthday. You know, my desk, that place I try to act mature and be professional. My DESK.
Then I feel like a loser, because my cousin is getting married, and I offered my services, and never heard back. Was wondering if it had been tacky to offer my professional services so early in engagement, and if I should be embarrassed.
Then, I e-mail my mom, and tell her my day is tough already, and tell her why. Is she just nice? NO. My mom shows no sympathy or niceness for my bad day, only telling me to quit looking for bad things. Her exact words? "STOP IT." Can she not just say, " I understand, it can be a tough day for no good reason. But the world is not against you. You are still great! Don't feel bad for too long." Nope, she has to act like I am an absolute idiot for feeling anything other than happy, and that I should immediately put on my tap shoes and dance a jig. Fuck that. Some days that is all you want to say.
Then client pseudo-complains that I wrote her an e-mail she didn't like. My boss says, " You wrote her that APPARENTLY the e-mail didn't get to you, so APPARENTLY I need to send it again, APPARENTLY." All I said was that "apparently the one I sent didn't get to you, so I will send it again. Sorry about that!" So I tell my boss, let's call her "Queen", that I really wish these people would stop acting like it is rude for me to say that something has been sent but didn't get there, instead of taking the blame and saying "OOPS! i just didn't do it." Which isn't even true! So then Queen gets mad at me for being bothered, and says," Well, she didn't mean it like that." Then she said, "As long as the client is happy, I am happy."
I thought, What about the rest of us?
Then I was dragged out from under desk, and eaten by wolves.

The best things ever

2005-04-23T17:17:00.000-07:00

The feeling of accomplishment that comes with simple chores. I just finished cleaning my room, top to bottom, and now I have showered and am curled up in my clean room. Laundry is going in the other room, and the TV is at a low hum, lulling me to sleep for my puuurrrrrr-fect afternoon catnap.
The smell of flowers given by a wonderful man--they always smell the sweetest.
The taste of a Coke, over ice, while sitting in the Southern heat and sunshine. If accompanied by grill full of hamburgers and hot dogs, even better.
The wonderful knowledge that my mom is just an hour away, and she loves me. She has loved me since the moment she knew she was pregnant. No one else can say they have loved me like that. She was my first "long-term relationship." Still going, hopefully forever.
Cracking open a good book and laying in the spot the sun makes on my bed. Or listening to the rain while reading. This is a sure-fire way to fall asleep.
Having a best friend that is more like a sister--and actually being aware that your time with her isn't unlimited, and won't last forever, so appreciating every laugh she gives, and every tear she cries. But mostly just loving her.
The weight of a newborn baby in my arms--my most recent experience with this was my youngest siblings (from my father and stepmother,) Nothing feels quite so fragile, sweet and full of hopeful potential. If only we could stay so innocent.
The sweet stinkiness of my old dog. When he sees me, he runs like a puppy, and I don't even notice if he smells "like a dog." He's my snoot. He can do no wrong, and the thought that he won't be here one day breaks my heart.
Eating a thousand different casseroles with my huge family at Thanksgiving, and knowing that even though we have lost a few people in the past few years, we will always be the same. Family.
Being content with the fact that I will always be the one my friends think of as: a bit wild, silly, goofy, short, smartassy, loyal, wise, sensitive and thoughtful. And a bit of a stubborn hardass at times.
A man who loves me for all of the qualities listed above, as well as for my weaknesses and mistakes. And still brings me flowers for no reason.
Thinking of my father, and no longer feeling so damn resentful--finally understanding that he is just a person, and not perfect. He loves me too.
Singing in the car at the top of my lungs while driving down backroads through Georgia. This is my home, and it is quite lovely, all year round.
I am happy in my life, with my family, with my friends. With the sun and the stars and the ring of my cell phone. I am just happy.

Simple Truths

2005-04-22T18:34:00.000-07:00

I was slacking in my writing. So here I am--ready to go. I decided to just write whatever came to mind. Here goes.
So there is a song by Billy Joel called "Goodnight Saigon," which is so sad, and so true, that I chose to listen to it 5 times in a row in my car on the way home. He sings about the Viet Nam War, and what it was like to be a soldier. All the lines in the song are brutally honest. But the chorus is what makes me cry--seriously, makes me cry. ( I know, I am a pretty huge sentimental baby.) So the chorus is sung by Billy Joel and a lot of other guys, who don't have great voices, but sound like they might be older men who fought in the war.
This is the song.
-------------------
We met as soul mates
On Parris Island
We left as inmates
From an asylum
And we were sharp
As sharp as knives
And we were so gung ho
To lay down our lives

We came in spastic
Like tameless horses
We left in plastic
As numbered corpses
And we learned fast
To travel light
Our arms were heavy
But our bellies were tight

We had no home front
We had no soft soap
They sent us Playboy
They gave us Bob Hope
We dug in deep
And shot on sight
And prayed to Jesus Christ
With all of our might

We had no cameras
To shoot the landscape
We passed the hash pipe
And played our Doors tapes
And it was dark
So dark at night
And we held on to each other
Like brother to brother
We promised our mothers we'd write

Chorus:
And we would all go down together
We said we'd all go down together
Yes we would all go down together

Remember Charlie
Remember Baker
They left their childhood
On every acre
And who was wrong?
And who was right?
It didn't matter in the thick of the fight

We held the day
In the palm
Of our hand
They ruled the night
And the night
Seemed to last as long as six weeks
On Parris Island

We held the coastline
They held the highlands
And they were sharp
As sharp as knives
They heard the hum of our motors
They counted the rotors
And waited for us to arrive

Chorus:
And we would all go down together
We said we'd all go down together
Yes we would all go down together
-------------

Stuff like this song always makes me get a little choked up. I can just imagine being so far from home, with no home, enemies all around. And to have no idea why you are even there. Your life is totally out of your hands, and you can die at any moment. How utterly scary.

I am glad to be someone who understands the loyalty you need with friends and family. And why I threaten to cut people sometimes.:)

Life as chess.

2005-04-19T08:00:00.000-07:00

Things are changing. Life is like a long game of chess, with the need to see past this moment to the consequences and possibilities of the next moment always on your mind.
Friends are pregnant, friends are getting married. People are taking on car payments, looking for homes to buy. Will they move the pawn to a 401K, or to a Roth IRA? Will they waste a pawn on the newest CD or booze at a bar? We seek a person to love for longer than today. We are looking for forever. Some of my friends have made that commitment and some haven't. Who will they pick for their king or queen?
I make my moves carefully now, weighing the long-term effects of each decision. Should I move to a bigger city where there is more to do, and more money to make? Should I stay here, where I can see gorgeous pastures and smell fresh air every morning? Is more money really more important? Will I be able to make this damn car payment every month for the next 5 years? Should I invest my freelance income, open a savings account, or pay off my credit card? Get an Roth IRA? Or should I say screw it all, and go on a road trip? Or maybe a backpacking trip to Europe?
What move should I make? What piece do I move? since each piece is worth more or less than the others, I am left wondering how many pieces, and which ones, to invest in certain parts of life.
All these thoughts in my head, and we all must make these choices every day, with every breath we take. It is second nature now to analyze very move, because every move is what gets it to where we want to be.
So what is the point in this chess game of my life where I get to say "CHECKMATE." What do I think my last move will be?

The view from atop my car...

2005-04-11T16:41:00.000-07:00

I was driving back from my dad's yesterday and I was on backroads, as he lives in South Georgia, and I cannot get there any other way. But the drive is a good one, with lots of farms and cows and orchards full of pecan trees. Sunshine and pick-up trucks. Little old general stores, and signs for fresh tomatoes and syrup. Tons of open fields. It is great. Makes me feel nostalgic and sweetly lonesome.
Anyway, Damien Rice was singing, and the song had just gotten to the part where this amazing opera singer is giving me chills with her voice, and the music is building and building... Then I see this field with rows and rows of young trees, and the sun is falling slowly in the sky behind them, and I pull off the road to take it in. I grab my digital camera, throw off my flip-flops and hop on top my car. People are driving by, but all I can hear is the wind and opera singer coming out of my sunroof. I took some beautiful pictures of the trees and the sun, swaying in the breeze. The sun was their spotlight, and they danced to the opera streaming from my car. I felt so good. Like I was really paying attention. And by taking the pictures, I felt appreciative of the world around me, like I was saying my thank-you's to the Big Guy for giving me sight. Sounds a bit cheesy, maybe. But it was great. Really really great.
I should do that more often. Just me, the music, the car and the camera. And a Coke and a tomato sandwich.

This annoying girl

2005-04-11T10:48:00.000-07:00

So, hoh-kay. So, there is a girl here at work now who is the most irritating co-worker I have ever had. Always moving things I have just printed, never giving you a chance to thank her for something before jumping down your throat with a sarcastic "You're welcome!" She wears scarves around her head and high heels with strappy things every day, even though we wear a damn polo to work with jeans. Rumor has it she is bipolar, and she is so fakely happy and nice that I have entertained thoughts of maiming her with a metal ruler from my office. Or maybe the scanner-I will just stick her head in it, and scan her to death. Now, far be it for me to make fun of people with the occasional emotional moment. I am, after all, me. But I really find her grating and so fake. Manolo Blahnik this, Louis Vuitton that. Ick. We are not on Sex & The City. We are in a small town, and we work at a printing company. There is no need to wear open-toed strappy sandals here. But maybe she will lose a toe... I can hope, right? And she keeps trying to do my job for me, but she has no degree and only works part-time. She thinks because she is older she is smarter. She is sadly mistaken. And like Stewey from Family Guy, VICTORY WILL BE MINE. Arrg, matey. Arrg.