The "L" Word

We've all kissed more frogs in our lives than we would care to admit- and I am certainly no exception to that rule. Stupid, disrespectful, overbearing, insensitive, too serious, too lazy, too mean, too nice, etc... I've met a bunch of duds. Met....and dated. There was the one who is now gay, the one who married his ex-girlfriend within a few weeks of us breaking up, the one who thought that JPMorgan (my place of employment at the time) was a clothing store, the one who just couldn't decide between myself and another girl, so he kept us both around as long as he could before we caught on to his shenanigans. My all time "favorite" was the one who had me over for BBQ and lived in squalor. While fixing a plate of the most random foods ever, he proceeded to smack my ass and tell me that that was how he knew I was from the Dotte. Looking back over my list of prior suitors, I am actually somewhat embarassed at some of the crap I put up with and either, a) didn't care, or b) was too naive to do anything about. Hows the saying go..."sometimes you have to kiss a few frogs to find the prince." And that I have. I don't know what will happen tomorrow, or six months from now... but for now, I am happy being in love and being with someone who loves me back, despite my many flaws, and who embraces those flaws as opposed to preying on them as a weakness. I feel like one hell of a lucky lady- and I hope I make him as happy as he makes me. :-)

Depressed....but motivated...

First of all... this is not meant to be be a pity-party, but rather, a means of motivation. I just wanted to preface this with that little bit of info.

So, last night, my boyfriend and I went to an outdoor concert. Its like 95 degrees outside, in the Kansas City heat, and within minutes of walking out the door from having showered and beauty-fied, I was dripping. Some people glisten... but not this little lady. I was dripping. My hair started curling up in little spiral tendrils on my head, and my makeup went from being fresh and clean to now falling off my face and blending colors making my face look like an awful version of the color wheel making my attempt at looking nice for the evening a complete and utter waste of time. When we got to the venue- we propped our lawn chairs up and took a seat. Eventually, as the sun went down, the weather was bearable-- but there was no amount of a breeze that was going to put my eyeliner back on my eyelid. Instead, I was rocking out an un-intentional smokey look that really just looked like someone had beaten me in the eye a few times. I digress, though, as this blog entry is not so much about my hair and make-up, or the heat, really, for that matter... but it is about my negative self-image (that being said after I ranted on about how awful I looked last night!)

Last spring, I was tired of going shopping at places like Lane Bryant and Torrid, or having to go to the Plus-Size section of the department stores. My mom and friends would find clothes that were trendy and super-cute while I was clawing through racks of geriatric clothing items to locate what was possibly the one and only cute thing available for a twenty-something girls such as myself. Shopping isn't as fun when your limited to shirts with giant pictures of cats on the front. (Don't get me wrong, I've seen some grannies rock those shirts- but there are some things that only certain people can pull off.) I was fed up. My whole life I have battled with being overweight. I remember as far back as seventh grade- when I was maybe 10 pounds overweight, I was told by my cheerleading coach that I was putting on too much weight and needed to shed some before attempting to fit into the cheer uniform. From that point on, I can remember time and time again of being embarassed and depressed about my expanding waistline. I had tried dieting before, and was often times successful to a certain point, but last year I had the first "aha!" moment where I realized that I have the power to change this. So- I took the first step and joined Weight Watchers, and I found my mojo and got rolling. Within 3 months I had lost 40 pounds. I was still a long way from my overall goal, but I was definitely thinning out and was the smallest I have been since High School. I was loving shopping and fitting into clothes from the 'normal" section of the store. It wasn't long though until I decided that I had done so well, and was so on top of things that it was ok to treat myself with pasta or mexican. Then the next thing you know, I am up 20 pounds and all of that hard work is flushed down the toilet!

I looked around last night at all of the ladies that were at the concert, and it took me awhile to realize that I was making mental notes of physical attributes of theirs that I wish I had. Skinny legs, defined arms, oval face without a second or third chin, thin hands, etc... I know it sounds pitiful and very depressing, but I know for a fact that I am not the only woman that does this. I would be willing to wager that 100% of women compare themselves to others. This kind of thinking isn't completely unhealthy, though, if it promotes motivation to improve oneself. Not change- but improve. I'm beautiful in my own right- and I don't think I am completely flawed, but I do treat myself pretty crappy. I bitch about being overweight and unhappy, but do nothing to improve my situation and instead, I treat myself like crap with this negative self-talk.

So... I'm hoping this new revelation, combined with the fact that practically everything I currently own in terms of clothes nearly rips apart as I squeeze into it, will light the fire under my hiney that is needed to get me back in the game- and to unveil the beautiful person thats beneath all of this self-loathing.

The pictures below are a few that I took last year after having lost close to the 40 pounds... I am using these as motivation to return to those same clothes. :-)

Someone else who thinks it sucks being a girl....

Have a Happy Period!

This is an actual letter from an Austin woman sent to American company Proctor and Gamble regarding their feminine products. She really gets rolling after the first paragraph. It's PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best webmail-award-winning letter...

Dear Mr. Thatcher,

I have been a loyal user of your 'Always' maxi pads for over 20 years and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the
LeakGuard Core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I'd certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts. But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can't tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants.

Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? Ever suffered from the curse'? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my time of the month is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call 'an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.' Isn't the human body amazing?

As Brand Manager in the Feminine-Hygiene Division, you've no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customers' monthly visits from 'Aunt Flo'. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it's a tough time for most women. In fact, only last week, my friend Jennifer fought the violent urge to shove her boyfriend's testicles into a George Foreman Grill just because he told her he thought Grey's Anatomy was written by drunken chimps. Crazy!

The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants... Which brings me to the reason for my letter. Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi-pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: 'Have a Happy Period.

Are you fu*%ing kidding me? What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness - actual smiling, laughing happiness is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you're some kind of sick S&M freak girl, there will never be anything 'happy' about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local Walgreen's armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory.

For the love of God, pull your head out, man! If you just have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't it make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent, like 'Put down the Hammer' or 'Vehicular Manslaughter is Wrong', or are you just picking on us? Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bull sh*t. And that's a promise I will keep. Always!

Best,
Wendi Aarons
Austin , TX

It sucks being a girl...

Once a month, without fail, I swear it seems as though a demon takes ahold of me and spews venom from my mouth... because I know it's not me.

Its certainly bad enough feeling bloated, fighting cramps, and having to lug around a case full of tampons and pads everywhere you go, but its even worse when you have mood swings that would make even a bi-polar patient look at you like you're crazy. And the worst part is, is that when the venom springs forth, there is nothing you can do to stop it. You hear it... you acknowledge it... you even feel bad about it... but you can't stop it!

So... if you are one of the victims of my wrath, I apologize with emmense sincerity, and I only recommend that maybe next time you find shelter, but I can not lie and tell you that the demon has died... cause it will be back to visit for a few days next month.

You might not always end up where you thought you were going to, but you always end up where you were meant to be...

Isn't it amazing sometimes when you look back on where you've been, where you're at, and where you're going? Its been on my mind a lot lately how differently I had always planned my life to be. Sitting in the back of the classroom during my freshman year of high school, I remember daydreaming about my life, as though I held the remote control to destiny. Well, apparently, it was a faulty remote control, or my destiny got mixed up with someone elses.

According to my "plan," I was going to get married right out of high school, have about 4 or 5 kids, and be a stay-at-home mom until my kids were old enough to go off to school, and then I would go to school to get my teaching degree and I would teach grade school until my husband and I retired and we spent the rest of our days traveling to places I'd only dreamt about.

The first clue that my "plan" was a complete bust was when I graduated from high school as single as I had been going into high school. Thereafter, things deviated from the "plan" much, much more. I went to Europe the summer after graduation and once the summer was over, I started taking classes at the community college and found myself a job working at bank.

Here it is, close to 10 years post-high school, and I have been to Europe twice, been to the Caribbean, worked at one of the most well-known companies in America, lived on my own, paid my own bills, and found my way in the world on my own. I've experienced relationships, both good and bad, gotten my heart broken, and have recently had the pieces put back together after finding love for the first time. I've experienced pain, joy, grief, loss, humiliation, excitement, and love all on my own. So, I look back on my "plan" of how life was supposed to go and I am amazed that destiny knows better than we do and it has beeter plans than we can conjure up for ourselves when we are sitting in the back of a class at the age of 16.

Growing Up

I remember being a little girl dressing up with my neighbor in my moms old shoes and oversized shirts, wrapping our whistles around our necks and playing in the street while we as "teachers" were manning the "playground" and paying close attention to the invisible students that ran wild. I remember riding bikes and somehow in an instant, my bike could be anything from a spaceship to a Mercedes. Dolls could come alive in my imagination as much as sleds could turn into horses. Anything was possible with a little youthful imagination. Those days were the days when the biggest drama in my day was when my neighbor wouldn't come out to play because she had some incredible task of cutting paper, or, trying to figure out what Big Wheel to use in the block party race. When the highlight of the year was going to the circus or making it to Worlds of Fun a few times. Those were the days. Its amazing how every year thereafter that of being six changed ever so slightly until now, I am twenty-five, I look around me and see envelopes full of bills, a work schedule plastered to my refrigerator door, not to mention the fact that I even HAVE a refrigerator door, a pile of laundry sitting in a laundry basket at home, a grocery list, a myriad of friends with their dramatic tales left on my voicemail, and a car that needs gas at the cost of $3.00 a gallon... what happened? Where did my days of adolescence and imagination go? The most imagination I can conjure up these days is imagining that I win a million bucks to pay off all my student loans and buy a new car-- which is far less glamorous than what I had imagined as a child. like, whatever happened to imagining I was a princess or a doctor, or anything else I wanted to be for that matter. When did life take an unforseen turn? I mean, my whole youth I spent trying to be an adult... I couldnt wait to grow up and get a job, get a car, get married, have a family, have money, etc... and now that I am grown, I want to be a kid again! Now, thats irony, if I do say so myself. Being an adult sucks. Far too much responsibility. Far too much reality, as well, which is my problem. I love living in the naive world where everything is perfect - yet it seems more and more that I am realizing that I see things through rose-colored glasses for the most part, and that things aren't always roses out there in the big-bad-world. Some people are mean, marriages don't always last, people don't want to take responsibility for their children, princesses don't exist with the glass slipper, Dr's foul up and have malpractice suits filed against them, people get laid off--- and sleds are just sleds, invisible kids are just invisible, and no one even owns a big wheel anymore... Growing up sucks.

Unreturned Phone Calls, Peanut Butter Poisoning, & the Valentines Day Curse

So, a few years ago, I was dating this guy- who will rename nameless to protect the innocent (which later in the story, that phrase will seem ironic). He and I had been dating for a few months and things were going really well. In February for Valentines Day, he had promised to make it really special. He wouldn't give me big details about what the evening would entail, but he hinted enough that I was really looking forward to it. For the first time, in fact, I would be celebrating Valentines Day with someone and not spending the day broken hearted, alone, and resentful.

I digress....On a night a few days prior to Valentines Day, he and I went to the gym together and then went to dinner thereafter. He dropped me off at home, gave me a kiss, and said he would call me the next day. Interestingly enough, though.... the next day came and went with no phone call from him.... then the same the following day, and then again the day after that. I tried calling him a few times and even left a few messages.

I cried on the shoulder of several of my girlfriends not understanding why he wasn't calling me back, wondering what I had done, and saddened that once again, on Valentines Day, I was going to spend it not only alone, but pissed off and bitter. I couldn't wrap my head around why, after a few months of dating, someone would just drop you off, give you a kiss telling you they would call the next day, and then just NOT call the next day. That just seems cruel. I completely understood the whole "unrequited love" thing- believe me... I am no stranger to it... but, seriously... a few months into dating someone, can't someone have the decency to just tell you that things aren't working out or that they "just aren't that into you?" My friends, though, kept telling me that that is just a part of dating. So, I accepted defeat as well as my friends explanation of the events, and sulked through Valentines Day feeling miserable and depressed. That same evening, while sitting at home watching TV and eating bonbons and dumdums and hoho's and any other ridiculously named crap-food, I flipped the channel to the news where they were doing a piece on peanut butter poisoning. Several people had been pronounced dead within that very week due to salmonella-contaminated peanut butter. As it often happens, the wheels in head began turning.... I wasn't rejected for Valentines Day.... my boyfriend was probably a victim of the awful travesty of peanut butter poisoning! I mean, that had to be the explanation- because who would seriously just stop calling someone!?

I spent the next few days trying to figure out how to confirm my hypothesis. Come to find out-- the hospitals are pretty confidential and don't provide too terribly much information over the phone. I tell you this in the event that you are ever in my shoes and are trying to track down a victim of peanut butter poisoning- though I am hoping that Peter Pan has since gotten his shit together. But again... I spent quite a bit of time trying to track down my AWOL boyfriend. I began sharing my struggles with a co-worker of mine, and she offered yet another possibility.... that he could be incarcerated for terrorist activities. Since my boyfriends name remains anonymous, I realize that as an audience, you have no image of him or anything- but the thought of him being involved in ANY kind of terrorist group, or hell, ANY group for that matter beyond Boy Scouts or Toastmasters would have been an extreme stretch of the imagination. She was convinced though that her "alternative" to my peanut butter poisoning scenario was the likelihood. So, to humor her, I went to the JoCo website and looked up people that were currently incarcerated to prove her theory wrong, and get back to finding out where my sick, salmonella-infected boyfriend was. That zany co-worker of mine, though, just had to be right.... As I scrolled down through the list of wife beaters, husband beaters, burglars and robbers, killers and rapists, I saw his stinkin' mugshot! Dammit!

He was in jail on unpaid DUI fines from a few years prior and not for murder or rape or anything "severe," though I think at that point I would have preferred to have found him bed ridden due to a terrible stomach ache induced by peanut butter than to find a picture of him online in a potato sack.

So-- herein lies the moral of this story.... girls, if your boyfriend up and disappears a few days before Valentines Day, don't get your panties in a bunch-- Just go to your local jails website and find your man, and if you don't find him there, don't underestimate the possibility of botulism. :-)

Favorite Movie Quote

"Girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up. If a guy punches you he likes you. Never try to trim your own bangs and someday you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending. Every movie we see, Every story we're told implores us to wait for it, the third act twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the exception to the rule. But sometimes we're so focused on finding our happy ending we don't learn how to read the signs. How to tell from the ones who want us and the ones who don't, the ones who will stay and the ones who will leave. And maybe a happy ending doesn't include a guy, maybe... it's you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. Maybe the happy ending is... just... moving on. Or maybe the happy ending is this, knowing after all the unreturned phone calls, broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and embarrassment you never gave up hope." --- He's Just Not That Into You

Merry Christmas!

Today I just want to wish everyone a Very Merry Cherry Cherry Holly Holy Rock'n'Rolly Christmas this year! This lovely holiday wish (and very irritating song) is brought to us by Neil Diamond. If you are looking for a song that will get stuck in your head and drive you crazy, I suggest listening to this one. :-)

My favorite gift I have given....

Since I blogged earlier about the White Elephant gift that has likely resulted in brain damage- I am reminded of another Christmas memory that turned out just as poorly. My roommate and I, a few years back, decided that instead of spending money on one another, we would spend the evening watching Christmas movies, drinking hot chocolate. What is Christmas though without a few presents, though, right? So, we agreed a few weeks prior to Christmas that we would wrap random things for one another... things around the house, things we didn't want anymore, etc... As luck would have it- I discovered the PERFECT Christmas present when my roommates car was broken into. Before you get your britches in a bunch, though, about me finding delight in his misfortune, wait til you know the rest of the story before passing judgment. So... as I said, his car was broken into, and the poor chap thought his gigantic case of CD's had been stolen. I, on the other hand, had discovered that he had left his CD's at home that day. So, before he got home from work that day, I snagged those CD's and proceeded to wrap them up. I could imagine it then... him opening his packages of randomocity on Christmas, and then opening up a gift to find his CD's that he had been so heartbroken to lose. This, by far, was one of my best ideas ever........................ up until the point that he told me he had filed an insurance claim for the "stolen CD's." Panic.... that was the new feeling I had. No longer was my heart filled with joy-- but with stinkin' panic. "Stolen CD's"..... I wondered what would happen when the insurance company-- as well as my roomie, found out that the stealer was also the gifter? So, in my imfamous wisdom, I decided to celebrate Christmas THAT DAY, so as to allow him time to cancel his claim once he realized that the CD's were still safe and sound, and literally right within his reach. We proceeded to open gifts, and I even got a little teary eyed as I was so pleased with myself. As he opened the well thought out gift, his face turned a Christmas shade of red, and it was then that I realized he did not share my excitement. Fortunately... I am alive to tell the tale, and he was able to cancel the claim so, he is doing well, too, and not sitting in a jail cell for insurance fraud. :-)

The true White Elephant gift...

So, a few months ago, I decided to volunteer passing out fire alarms to low income families. I was all excited about helping those in need--- until of course I found out that we wouldn't be in JoCo, but rather on Paseo...walking the streets going door to door. If you are familiar with KC, you know that Paseo is one of the "no go" zones.... and that usually means even driving. So... walking down the streets of Paseo, well, that my friends, was an experience I will not too soon forget. The point of this blog, is not about wandering the streets of the Paseo, but rather about the Poncho I received that day to protect me from the rain. I imagined that day that the trash bag poncho was also bullet proof to protect me from the streets, and therefore have since offered it to my friend, Josh, as I found it to be incredibly protective for me- so why wouldn't I want to protect my friend? Josh, on the other hand, does not see the need for such protective gear. So, on a rather daily basis, we "gift" one another with the poncho by leaving it somewhere on one anothers desk, hiding it between papers and cards, and most recently, we chuck it across the floor at one another hoping it will land in eachothers cubicle. Today- I discovered that not only is the poncho a device that provides hours of entertainment, but it is also a way to celebrate Christmas. And today, that little gift made it back to my cube by way of concussion. Thats right... Josh, being so festive and jolly, chucked the White Elephant gift across the room, over my cubicle, and right upside my head. Now... as with most things in my life, it isn't until I do some reflecting that I realize the lesson, or irony, in this case, that the once protective poncho has ironically become a device for assault.

TMZ.com...

Ok... so as we all know, the incredibly talented Brittany Murphy passed away this past weekend. This news was brought to us first by TMZ.com....a news source that, in my world, if far more prompt and accurate with NEWS. This fact was argued by my friend, Josh, who adimately stated that TMZ is not a valid news source. I had to argue with him about this... I mean, who gives us the news about the White House, the First Family, Iraq, and health care better, and more promptly than TMZ? In a flash, I know about what Michelle Obama will be wearing to a ball held at the White House, I know about the dog owned by the First Family, I know about the artists who perform for the soldiers in Iraq, and I know about botox injections and their effects on ones health. So, I ask you... how is TMZ not a valid news source?

Welcome to my blog!

Those who know me well know that my life is made up of one mishap, debacle, drama or curiosity and thoughts, one after another, - yielding hours worth of retrospective comical stories- so after some thought, I decided it would be fun to journal my myriad of "stories" into a blog for all to read and laugh with me. :-)