Something’s listening(or reading)

Three days ago I wrote about how long it has been since I truely felt proud of myself. Today one of my coworkers gave me such a gift, with wonderful timing.

He started with saying, “I had a total you moment today.” I laughed, assuming this was leading up to story about him making a pervy joke, shamelessly talking to himself, or walking into another room and completely forgetting why he was there. To my giggle he replied “No, not like that,” I’m assuming he assumed I assumed he meant in the pervy way. He continued “I went into a situation thinking it was probably going to turn out negatively,  but I thought, I’m going to go into this with the best attitude I can, and treat these people the way I want to be treated, and in the end it turned out great. That’s totally you. That’s how you handle things.”

I have never had a better compliment in my life, and in hearing it, for the first time in a long time, I felt proud.

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It’s that time of the night

Been awake since 4:30am yesterday, and between the tiredness, the Chantix, and the nicotine withdrawal I find myself a little emotional. 

While in the shower a few minutes ago I believe I had my first negative epiphany,  if that’s even possible.

I realized I haven’t really felt proud of myself in quite a long time. Years.
I feel like I have accomplished nothing in my short time on this little blue planet.

Then, that thought even crossing my mind sends me into a whole different direction of self loathing. How DARE I think like that. I come from a good and supportive family. I have built amazing,  til death do us part relationships with a solid core group of friends. My dog is the greatest thing on this planet(seriously.) I have a job that, while it doesn’t pay worth shit, I actually enjoy showing up to every day.

I’m content. Not fulfilled. Not satisfied. Just content.

Talk about first world problems.

Here’s the part where, if I were talking to myself,  I would say, “Well, do something about it! !”

Then I think of what I would like to do and I think the problem is I look at the big picture,  the preferred end result, and either get overwhelmed by the steps and details to starting the process of change,  or I think of anything and everything that MIGHT go wrong and I talk myself out of ever starting anything and my brain shuts down.

From there, I will be content with my current position in life for a month or two and next, the process will start all over again.

Not exactly how I want to live my life for, possibly and hopefully, the next 40 to 60 years.

So, I have come to the conclusion,  I need a life travel agent. I’ll tell them where I want to go and they’ll line up the trip. Kind of what they trick you into thinking college does for you, but in a real life way that actually works and doesn’t leave you thousands of dollars in debt.

Balentine’s Day! (A five year old’s pronunciation)

Between social media, coworkers, friends and family,  I’ve noticed a lot of people hating on Valentine’s Day. My single friends hate being alone. My attached friends don’t like dealing with the crowds and hassal. The random people I follow on twitter keep talking about the commercialism of it all, and my cousin has been so jaded to the idea of romance, if she didn’t have kids I doubt she would celebrate it at all. 

I have had romantic Valentine’s Days. I’ve had single Valentine’s Days. I’ve had bitter, very bitter, Valentine’s Days. With that being said, I have decided a day dedicated to love cannot be a bad thing,  as commercialized as it has become. Between romantic dinners and sexy bedroom romps, to getting shit faced and dancing like a fool with my best friend, to a night watching movies with my mom on the couch, or a Valentine’s dinner at Waffle House because that’s what we could afford, I’ve had a cornucopia of Valentine’s Day experiences.  What they all came down to was being with someone I loved. 

What should be expected is not chocolates and roses, or jewelry and expensive dinners, or corny cards and bed bouncing time, though all of those are very nice.

What should be expected is quality time with someone you love.

Celebrate love.

What should be expected is smiles, laughter, good conversation, or comfortable silence.

And if by some chance, everyone in your life is coupled off or busy in other ways, and you find yourself alone on Valentine’s Day, grab the chance to celebrate some self love. (BrownChickenBrownCow)

Dress up and go out to dinner somewhere delicious, alone, and do it confidently!  

Curl up on the couch, after a long hot bath, with some frozen pizza and the entire collection of Sex and the City, or Walking Dead, or Grey’s Anatomy, or Breaking Bad, whatever works for you.
(My choice would probably be Golden Girls, those silver cougars crack me up.)

Lay in bed with a glass of wine, your Pekingese, and a good book or trashy magazine (might as well brush up on your Kama Sutra.)

Celebrate yourself! Love yourself! 

There are so many negative things in this world already, embrace this day that is dedicated love, don’t turn it into another thing to be grumpy over.

Now slap a smile on that sweet little face of yours and go celebrate some G.D. love!

Numero Uno

Ah. Blogging again. Not since the days of xanga and a few late-teens, angsty MySpace blogs have I put thoughts to paper, or keyboard, or now, as technology would have it, smooth, glass screen of a tablet. 

Not really sure this blog will have a theme. It will probably be a splat of my brain matter most days. Just whatever happens to be bouncing around, bothering the inside of my head. For example, the fact I have to keep back spacing because my thumb keeps hitting the “n” instead of the space bar, is really pinching at my skull right now.

Here’s you’re fair warning: I will jump around, I may still have rants like an angtsy late teener, and I cannot promise entertainment. If you’ve made it this far I will be surprised, but I need to get somethings out there, and fool myself into thinking someone may be listening, with out the guilt that I actually made anyone listen. 

So, here we go:

The human brain, and the human heart, enemies from the start. The brain constantly over thinking things that the heart sees so clearly. The heart, naive and gullible as it can be, is such a force to be reckoned with when it comes to the brain. The brain is pushier, bossier, and often louder, but occasionally the quite seeps in. The brain is either too tired or ran out of other things to busy itself with, and that’s when that sly fox of a heart starts meddling with the unsuspecting brain again.

Being hurt many a time, I have built an almost sound proof, light proof, and air proof box around this silly, red, squishy thing in my chest, to keep it from interfering with my brains day to day logical routine. By some miracle, a blue eyed stranger managed to find a forgotten, rickety, old, basement window in my box, and crawled on in. Three short weeks with this stranger and all of the sudden my brain is losing battles it hasn’t lost in a long, long, time.

Three weeks of rainforest hot passion and then the stranger was gone. All logic has sense ceased to exist, and here we are, by most definitions, two strangers, living across the country from one another, neither able to get out of eachothers hearts or heads. A very annoying overtaking, if I do say so myself. Three short weeks, but I have never felt for anyone what I feel for this man so quickly. Distance is a bitch though. A bitch that makes the good ol’, logical thinking, ever protective and some what pessimistic brain run on over drive.

Months have passed since I wrote the first half of this entry. Valentine’s Day is Friday. A year ago Friday, that blue eyed stranger went back home, 2,240 miles away, but who’s keeping track. We tried to make it work, but between distance and lack of funds to make the trip to see eachother, there was unavoidable frustration. He met someone from home, and we called it quits.

On my end, as you can imagine, there were tears, late nights sadly sipping away my sorrow, and the occasional tryst with my hot, funny go-to fun buddy. I feel I went through the natural steps: Sadness, anger, bitterness, back to sadness, denial that I ever felt anything at all, some more anger, jealousy, sadness again, and finally to acceptance.

Past acceptance actually. I am thankful I met him. I am thankful for the passion, the love, the laughs, the pain, the sadness, and the anger. The two years before blue eyes came into my life I can decribe my romantic emotional state as nothing less than numb. Completely unexpectedly, blue eyes showed me that I was not a broken shell of a woman. I could still feel, and love, and most importantly trust.

Three weeks with one handsome, funny, charming, blue eyed stranger brought me back to life.