The One With the Longest Week

Most of the time, it seems like the weeks fly by and I am usually thinking, how is it already (enter month, holiday, season, what have you)?! However, this past week has felt like the longest week ever. To be fair, I typically spend most of the time thinking exactly what day it is because of the work I do (I normally work two to three months in advance). The added layer of confusion is I desk share (awesome program by the way!) that has my desk partner and I switching our remote days each week. I like to think of it as a way to really exercise my brain.

But then there are weeks like this past one that I kind of have to stop, scratch my head and wonder what in the world I did to end up with a week like this. Work has been hectic, but that is normal. I also prefer to be busy, as long as I can manage to keep up with the work. But it was the rest of my life, the one that isn’t consumed with work, that felt off most of the week.

There were a couple of bright spots, Wednesday I went to see Queen + Adam Lambert with Chandler’s mom and older sister. Besides enjoying spending some time with them (which included dinner at Hattie B’s) we headed downtown to my second home. We walked around the second floor by the Patron Club while I gave them some tidbits about the arena, the Preds and pointed out pictures of past performers and players displayed on the walls. Once on the main floor, we hit the merchandise booth and for the first time in forever, I bought a shirt.

I knew we had great seats just by reading the seat assignment but the reality was far better than I could have imagined. We were the section next to the stage, about nine rows up. Well hello there Queen + Adam Lambert! There was no opening act, so it started later than most concerts. But once the show started, I was a happy clam, thankful that I bit the bullet and paid what I paid to attend.

Adam Lambert addressed the big ole pink elephant in the room almost immediately. There is only one Freddie Mercury and he felt really honored to be working with two legends. Then they went back to the music. If you watched my FaceBook live feed, you would notice that most of the time, my camera was fixed on Brian May or Roger Taylor. I like Adam Lambert but I was there to see two of my heroes perform, an opportunity I had never believed would happen.

The show was fast paced, loud, full of energy with touching tributes to Freddie interspersed through the show. And I had a couple of moments where I got teary eyed, Brian May came out while the others rested/changed to talk to us. He then did the acoustic version of Love of My Life, one of Freddie’s songs he used to sing all of the time. And I almost lost it. Then later in the show they did Who Wants to Live Forever and once again I got teary eyed. Or as Chandler would have said, CRYBABY! Yeah, I will own that.

That concert for me was one that I never dreamed of attending. I love Freddie Mercury, having listened to a heavy rotation of Queen growing up. His voice and personality was larger than life and the world is a little dimmer having lost him but May and Roger, along with Lambert managed well. And I can say that I have now clapped along with the crowd during Radio Ga Ga. I feel pretty special now.

But between lack of sleep, the week taking it’s sweet time to get to the weekend and the weather (summer can go away, right now, not going to miss it). I was in a funk.  I have also been rereading a series that apparently affects my mood (I will take it off the rotation after this round). By the time I got home Friday from work I was a wound up mess. And beyond grateful that I had two days to decompress and adjust my attitude.

That whole am I imagining things or could something really be there seems to more in my head than reality. And yes, that pissed me off too because hello, I know better. Been there, done that and it never ends the way I think it should. So then I did the whole lecturing myself for being so stupid, letting the walls down a bit and all that fun stuff. As I have said plenty of times before, I am my own worst enemy.

So I have spent the weekend reading, napping, running a few errands, getting a mani/pedi and finally the last bright spot for the week. I went to the Preds Used Equipment Sale today and that was pretty cool. I ended up with my favorite ginger Canadian’s hockey stick (Ryan Ellis) which I will work on mounting on my wall with my vast collection of hockey pucks.

So all in all, it was a really long week that was meh with reminders of what I should not do. If I were a brave person, I would just have a chat with the person but after everything he has been through keeping my big mouth shut is the better option. Here’s hoping to a decent week with a Monday that flies (because we all know I hate Mondays).

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Because It Could Only Happen to Me

There are times when I truly think my life should be one of those cheesy romantic comedies. .. well, light on the romantic, heavy on the comedy. I’ve joked before about exes popping back up in my life. I even did a brief tour to visit boyfriends from the past last year.

Of course, nothing could prepare me for the boy coming back into my life. Sure, we live less than five miles from each other, our offices are less than a mile away but running into him? Nah. In fact I had put the boy in the file marked old history. My trip through the past last year allowed me to go back to DC and make peace with what I considered a disaster of a trip.

Of course every time you think that your past is in fact comfortably sitting in the past, it does like to pop up. As usual, the boy didn’t have my phone number but he had my email address. Something tragic had happened and he needed a friend. He knew he didn’t deserve it but he was asking anyway. So I called.

He told me what happened and some of it went right over my head because I was in shock. I was having a hard time putting it all together and could only say I was sorry to hear that. The boy apologized for being an asshole to me, being a shitty friend, all the stuff that Bubba had said all those years ago. He went on to say that he would appreciate meeting up for a drink at some point but then prefaced it with he didn’t want me to think he was using me and that he wasn’t just leaning on me because it’s easy (well something to that effect, it’s been a few months). And in perfect self defense mode (ala making fun of myself so there would be no way I could ever be rejected) I explained that I had gained a lot of weight and that there wouldn’t be one ounce of attraction for me. . .

Then in a small voice he said, I just want you to be healthy.

Maybe his reading my blog made him see some things, maybe it didn’t. Maybe the women who came after me made he learn a lesson. I don’t know but that was the very first time he responded with a neutral comment about my health and not something about losing weight or some kind of goal I should have for myself.

After watching DC guy react to how I looked last year I was at least prepared for some kind of reaction from the boy. I mean, this isn’t a few extra pounds, it is quite a bit and it affects everything in my life now. To his credit, he didn’t let his reaction show. Now I can come up with all kinds of things probably running through his mind however I torture myself enough with the harsh words, so we will skip this part.

We talked on the phone, texted, met for a drink and when the shit would hit the fan, he leaned on me to vent. I may suck at romantic relationships but I rock the friend one. And just like that, it was as if no time had passed and we were old friends. I will say, I have some bitterness with eHarmony because the boy was a perfect match. We got along, had tons in common, could talk for hours but (because there is always a but) where I was flexible (to the point of being steamrolled by almost any guy I dated) he was rigid. If I willingly gave up control of the tv for a program he rarely did so for me. The boy let me in to a degree when we were dating but kept some walls up.

And maybe that is why by the time Chandler got me, he had a lot of demo work to do. Why let someone in, be so open, showing everything about you when the other person only shows snippets? You don’t get as hurt that way.

The boy has grown as a person and I now have that relationship I had with Bubba with him. I can be honest, tell him that I think something is stupid because I don’t have anything to lose. I am probably quite mean to him when it comes to being blunt. Its a gift that was born out of the rubble from the Bubba debacle.

We’ve hit that nice stretch where we are friends, we will go to dinner, talk about concerts and sports. It is nice. I watched his face when we were at Iron Maiden last month. Pure joy to be seeing one of his favorite bands. It’s the look I imagined I had for most of my trip to NYC last Christmas, when something you love so much becomes a reality.

I hate that the reason he popped back into my life was because of a tragedy within his life but I guess when you need friends, you need them. Hopefully he will find peace and happiness in the future. As for now, I will enjoy talking food and sports with him.

2012: A Year in Review

There were some great things that happened in 2012 and like most people, some shitty things happened as well. I am guilty of diving deep into the crap and allowing it to rule my life. I think that is a natural reaction to life. But I have also been able to step back, acknowledge the bad but still be thankful for what I do have in my life. I haven’t gotten all Pollyanna on you, trust me.

The good? Well, I ended up spending a few days with the Queen in Atlanta leading up to my birthday. Good food, great times with the Queen, IKEA! and a guy even hitting on me in IKEA! I followed that little trip up with a weekend in Nashville. Again, great food, friends and some quality time at Green Hills Mall.

I was a bit delusional when it came to the boy, thinking that our little road trip to DC might put things back on track in February. I also dealt with guilt for not reaching out to Chandler after a conversation with his sister. The shoulda, woulda, couldas have come in waves throughout the year and I have to hope within my heart of hearts that Chandler did know that he was always on my mind. Chandler gave me one final gift when he passed, he opened my eyes to see the boy for who he truly is and that helped me close the door for good on that mistake. Thank you Chandler for pointing out what everyone else could see.

Saying goodbye to Chandler at the end of February was probably the hardest thing I have had to do. For a time I didn’t want to be around happy people, going to the mall pissed me off and the idea of having to even be somewhat social seemed more like torture. I held close the memories we had created together but also knew it was time for me to really focus on getting back home, getting in shape and finding me again.

Apparently in March I tried to find some humor and offered up my embarrassing Spanx story, shared with you my weight (I had already shared my big girl jeans vs. my skinny jeans with you the previous fall) and the time I fell on my tush while working out with my trainer. I also sprinkled in random thoughts throughout the year with Tuesday Randomness. While these may seem a bit boring or um, redundant, it has forced me to write something, anything every week (although I have missed a few. . .).

April reminded me just how great I have it in terms of friends, I spent a weekend at the Queen’s house, met up with a bunch of mother hens for drinks, caught up with an old friend and really thought long and hard about an opportunity in Raleigh. I also got to deal with an allergic reaction to who knows what to my skin. The itching was out of control and the only thing the doctor could come up with was I happened to be allergic to something blowing in the wind. Yes folks, for the price of a copay or two, I learned that my skin was sensitive. Sadly, I have known that since I was a little kid.

I continued to workout with my trainer in May, offered up an explanation as to why I suck at dating and admitted that I was a dork. I also decided after reading an article that I really needed to make a statement and just go ahead and marry myself. If everyone else gets celebrated for every milestone under the sun, why should I let the inability to get a guy to commit to me make me miss out on those milestones? I ended up not going through with it but I will keep it in the back of my head.

June brought hot weather and my impatience at finding anything in Nashville career-wise. I was unhappy with my job, location and lot in life. I did manage to sucker Stace into going to the Def Leppard concert at the beginning of July and lucked into two job interviews while I was in town. I headed to The Trousdale School’s annual musical grinning ear to ear with what was coming up the following week; a concert, two interviews and spending time with friends.

I was a mess after my second interview, kind of feeling like I do most times I go on a date; thinking it went well but never hearing from them ever again. Then I did the phone interview with the recruiter. . .oh July you could have gone either way but on the 13th (my lucky number) I was offered the job and was planning my move back home, to Nashville in under two weeks. I dealt with packing, roped Bird into packing my kitchen, mom helped tons and dad made sure the chair didn’t move while they were there. Wook looked at me like I had lost my mind but agreed to deal with the car ride and chaos a move brings. I started my new job, met my new coworkers and instantly knew I was going to like it here.

I challenged myself to appreciate all the move brought to me, going out with friends, working on myself and doing my very best at my job. A text to Allan one evening led to me meeting John Corbitt and breaking the unspoken rule in Nashville: don’t bother the famous people. Thankfully he was really nice and Allan is probably still shouting he doesn’t know that guy. I also got to warm up in terms of watching football. Oh dear, if the football season could be year round I would be a happy girl.

September came and went in a blur, a lot of football, a lot of time hanging out with the guys and random sightings of the boy as I would head home from work. I was counting down until MTSU’s homecoming, ended up seeing some great guys I hadn’t seen since college and remembering the campus as if I had just left it the day before. Millions of texts to and from Allan seemed to be the norm and I admitted to two friends that I might just have a crush on him. Allan had also voiced his dislike of his first blog name and for the first time in history, I changed someone’s name. That should have been my sign.

I realized I must be bad luck for my beloved Steelers after witnessing first hand the loss to the Titans, one of the worst teams in the league. One of the crudest lines I have ever uttered was finally yelled back at me courtesy of Allan. Text messages flew in after the game and the next day from friends teasing me about the loss. Yeah, I know and we shouldn’t have lost. A fateful weekend spent with Allan caused us to cross the line in our friendship. I was thrilled, very happy and couldn’t believe my luck. I was back home, I had a great job and somehow ended up with a guy whom I considered to be in the best friend circle as something more. All of the sudden, tons of plans were made for parties, trips, football and everything else under the sun.

Then high school drama happened, I saw a side of my friend that I didn’t realize was there and a girl pulled a very childish stunt in order to get her way. I fought for him and then realized that he was in my shoes from years ago with Bubba. I offered him one last piece of advice, do not ever ask me why I stayed with Bubba for so long when everyone knew it was bad. Pot meet kettle. Square peg in round hole still won’t fit. Roller coaster, high school drama still doesn’t make a relationship. And finally, my favorite thought, people change and sometimes it isn’t for the better. Oh and always, always question someone who tries to lay blame on others for their mistakes.

The rest of October was hard, I was in a complete and total funk. I was also very angry at myself for letting someone in when I know how it always ends for me. I refocused on my weight, working out and eating habits. I managed to get into a pair of size ten jeans. I also somehow managed to take the higher road when Allan stated on Facebook he was now in a relationship. I am not a saint, I have said some really not so kind things about the whole situation and I won’t even get into what has gone on in my head. Yes, I was a bit on the bitter side but I still want to know why the one who follows the rules, is nice, responsible and well. . . ends up with the short end of the stick.

November rushed in and I had to get my place in order for my parents’ visit during Thanksgiving. As I have admitted to them, I did prepare myself for a last minute cancellation but that didn’t happen and we had a great time. I ended up with an early Christmas present (a HUGE tv), they got to meet my BFF Stace’s little boy E, Rach’s kids and husband and I think I drug mom around a good portion of Davidson and Williamson counties on Black Friday. It was also the month that dad got an iPhone. I think I have converted him. . . at least I hope so!

I realized in December why I have had such a hard time getting everything Christmas up and out. I haven’t held my dinner party since 2008, which means that I haven’t had a deadline to deal with the tree. I got the tree up this year and some decorations out but waited until the last minute to make the peanut butter chocolate balls for Bird. I watched a ton of Christmas movies, continued my weight loss, watched way too much football, brought bad luck to the Titans when I went to the game at the beginning of the month and watched Mr. E on several occasions.

I also had to say goodbye to my stinky boyfriend, Shadow. I felt horrible for Stace and her husband as well as felt beyond helpless. I have always been proud of the fact that I can handle most anything life hands me (even if I cry or shut down at some point, I have managed to deal with it) but Shadow’s passing shined a light on a weakness about myself.

I headed to my hometown to spend Christmas with the parents and Bird. Her girls still aren’t 100% happy for my move but I am hopeful that when they are older, they will understand. It turned out to be a low key visit, which I enjoyed. I also probably sent mom over the edge introducing beef tenderloin as a great holiday meal since dad is now convinced they should have it monthly. I have also given the gift of Starbucks addiction to dad. At least the barista at his local place doesn’t know his name and order. . . I don’t have to utter a word now if I don’t feel like it.

I also got to visit with Chandler’s mom and sisters while I was there. While the tears do not come as often or quickly, as soon as I see them I am a blubbering mess. I would give anything for Chandler to be back with them, even if it meant we were not meant to be. I still think of him often, love him dearly and talk about him with my friends. As I was getting ready to leave, his mom asked Bri to take me to his room to pick out a couple of things. With each step down the stairs, the tears came faster. . .to be able to see things just as they were when I left made me smile but miss him terribly. I will always wear his Notre Dame shirt with pride and love (and cheer for them too!) as well as his Cubbies hat.

I ended the year on my own instead of going out or hanging with friends. Part of it was I just didn’t want to be around others but the other part was, I was tired, overwhelmed with what I have experienced this past year and the biggest part, who doesn’t want to ring in the new year with the most neurotic cat ever? Plus, NYE is amateur night. I would prefer not to share the road with the crazies. Instead I Facetimed with Son, Snug and T, my parents and chatted briefly with Stace, offering up the I am a loser and this headache is driving me insane (which it has been for several weeks now).

Here’s to 2013, may all your wishes come true and if I ever start talking excitedly about a guy, please smack me. And then point me to my blog.

Instagraming Your Life

I got an iPhone this past summer, my first one because I was waiting for my carrier of choice to offer them and then had to wait for my upgrade. But after years of drooling over the iPhone, I got it. While I was using my Droid (which I really did love) I starting playing with Instagram and other photography apps. Taking it over to the iPhone seemed to take it to the next level and that might be my mind playing tricks on me. I do have a soft spot for Apple products though. . .

Instagram is a cool little app that will let you lay a filter on top of the picture, it can be framed, muted, blurred. . .and then you post it for all the world to see. Those tricks to make a photograph look artistic, better or more dramatic didn’t change the actual picture. It’s still a picture of my cat, Radnor Lake or the sky. With a click of the camera and a swipe at the effect, I have made a so so fall afternoon at Radnor look like an outtake from the woods of Maine. All crisp yellows, reds and oranges glowing as if someone took a paintbrush to it. And then I realized, I have been instagraming the crap out of old memories.

It reminded me of a comment made by a friend years ago; when talking about my love for NYC (at the ripe old age of 17) he said I viewed the city through rose colored glasses. My mother agreed. I, on the other hand, did not agree, even to this day, I love NYC. I also don’t see the mess, as my mother pointed out to me often, it’s just not in my nature.

I think we all go around from time to time, remembering the past with a filter on it causing it to blur, become muted and sitting there like a pretty little package waiting to be torn open on Christmas morning. I have been guilty of this when it comes to old flames or crushes.

Case in point. . . the little red headed boy. He was my first boyfriend, way back in fourth grade. He even gave me a necklace and candy on Valentine’s Day. And it all started with a note asking me to go with him by checking yes or no (George Strait has nothing on me). It was a love affair for the ages. Well, until I decided that I didn’t want to go with him anymore. It ended, he took up with my best friend and I gave her the stuff he gave me. As we got older, the little red headed boy and I became friends. Such good friends that I believe we got in trouble for tying the phone line up one evening yapping to each other (long before the days of call waiting).

When you are that young, kids don’t understand how you could be friends instead of just dating. To us, it made sense. And I also had ADD when it came to boys back then as well as a horrible habit of going for the bad boy. But we spent a lot of time around each other, talking, laughing and then having to explain what the deal was with us. This played out throughout school until graduation.

I never thought of that little red headed boy in a romantic way until one night we hung out when he was in town from college. As we always did when he came into town, we went out. We caught each other up on our lives, talked about former classmates and made fun of each other. Solid friend hanging out time. At the end of a long night hanging out, he kissed me. I was surprised when he did, shocked that I really liked it and confused as to what in the world did it all mean. Then reality set in, he lived two hours away, we had different things going on and what could have been was not going to happen.

Once I transferred to the same college he was at, we tried again but by this point I was ready to get out, meet people and ended up spending a chunk of quality time at the fraternity house. Timing was always off and deep down I think we both knew that those two little kids passing notes in Mrs. Baker’s class were very different people now. We grew up and moved on; it happens.

But here comes the fun part. . . I have instagramed the crap out of that little red headed boy since college. Pulling out tidbits of blurred memories, dressing them up, muting them to just the right color and swearing up and down that he must be the boy for me. I believe he was my fallback each and every time Bubba and I would sign on for WWIII. My 38 year old self sees that now and will openly admit that while I will always have a soft spot for that little red headed boy, we are really two very different people now. We both changed during college and I am sure I went to a more wilder side than him but it was those fun memories of when we were young that made me think that it would work.

While that example isn’t all that bad, I bring out my next exhibit. . . Bubba. Dear Lord, I instagramed that relationship from hell to the point that it looked like soft, fuzzy kittens were playing in a field. We brought out the worst in each other, he spent more time and energy trying to come up with ways to push me and I fell right into the trap. Things would be great, he would be sweet and then bam! he had his tongue down some girl’s throat and it wasn’t mine. He would party hard and flirt but if a guy happened to pass in front of me he would blow up. He would say horrible things to me, tearing me down, piece by piece until I was convinced I was lucky to have him. Then we would break up. . .

And I would start to instagram the memories, blurring the times he had thrown himself at other women, making it into a huge misunderstanding or I would put a dreamy filter on the ones where he told me I was fat so I could remember it as he really only cared about my health. Sounds like an amazing relationship huh? I spent seven and a half years playing this horrible game of cat and mouse with him. I still have the scars from our time together but Bubba and I finally got the memo that we would never, ever work as a couple.

And then I instagramed Jorge and the boy. . . yeah, I could fill pages up of how not to chose a guy. The boy was shallow, so I would have to put nice shiny, bright filters on my memories with him. Dressing up memories that really weren’t suited to see the light of day the first time around. Blurring out the indifference that Jorge had for the relationship, sharpening the few where he babied me when I was sick to make those really stand out. Like I said, I have a real knack for picking them!

It is hard sometimes to look back and force myself to see the memories without all the airbrushing. I have to admit that I was part of the destructive cycle with Bubba and with the others, simply ignoring the red flags and pretending that it was all perfect. And while I do like to soften the memories up a bit, just like I enjoy playing with the different looks on Instagram, the reality is summed up as this: it is what it is. I can’t change how I was treated, how I treated them or make the memory better. I can’t go back and touch up a moment in hopes that making it look better will make it work now.

The fact that I prefer to see the good in people instead of the bad immediately does tend to translate into either I am not that smart, naive or just see things through rose colored glasses. The reality is I just want to think that people in general are not inherently bad people. This part of my personality does tend to open me up to being surprised quite often. I have also become more cynical as I have gotten older when it comes to relationships which in turn causes me to throw every wall around me up.

Chandler got to deal with my walls and bless him for being patient with me. I was so paranoid about me time, being my own person, etc. that I almost missed out on probably one of the better relationships I have experienced. I can remember him calling me one night when he got home, he wanted to analyze my mood and what we had talked about earlier in the evening. He said I had to talk to him for it to work. Such a novel concept. And that sometimes, those moments are ones that you need to frame and hang on your wall.

For now, I will try to keep my instagraming strictly to pictures and accept that good or bad, the friends, boyfriends, relationships and the kitchen sink from my past are in my past. That none of us are those kids from 20 years ago and photoshopping the past doesn’t make the present or future better. Often times it only means that I am copying the picture in hopes that the outcome is different this time. Kind of like when I kept shoving that square peg into the round hole known as Bubba.

I am thankful that I might actually be learning a few things, finally. My thick skull makes it hard for me to learn new things. I like to blame that on my dad but that is as much a K family trait as it is a C family trait. And that trait makes for great stories for friends to laugh at when we are together. Which is really the reason why they keep me around. . .

Living in a Tunnel

I would like to blame most of this foggy living on being sick but there are a few more factors in play. My vacation to DC was supposed to be great, full of food, laughing, talking and sightseeing, Unfortunately I was still sick as a dog. This plays a huge part in terms of wakling around a city with the weather changing every five minutes. I knew that being out in the elements was not a good thing. I paid for it dearly when I finally got back to my apartment.

The boy, while we have many things in common, can let things into his life that consume him. We all have this happen from time to time, It’s just we both needed this vacation, a way to be away from everything and just enjoy. Cool man, his friend that is practically a brother to him has adictions that basically rule his life. It is horible to be trapped in such an adiction. I remember watching Bubba deal with it years ago and it didn’t matter what I said or did, he would stop when he wanted to because no amount of reasoning would convince him that life could be better, different.

In a very un Amy life stance, I began to drown out what the boy was say about his friend or the conversations with his sister and friend. It wasn’t that I didn’t care, it was more like, put the phone down and take advantage of this great city we are in! Enjoy it! This is our vacation. Sadly, my thoughts on the matter were met with the you don’t understand.

When I learned about Chandler, I was in schoke. I couldn’t believe it, in fact when I dreamed that first night, it was all Chandler talking to me and saying this was all a joke, he wanted to push me out so I didn’t have to deal with it. I went through the maze trying to catch him and reason with him. I finally got up and looked at my phone to confirm that yes, he was gone.

As I tried to talk to the boy about it, he shut down. I don’t know if it was me talking about and reacting about the loss of a great guy I had dated or if he just didn’t have the skill set to deal with me. But I lent an ear and listened to him repeat the latest texts, conference calls, ect about the cool boy. I was once again forced to admit to myself that the boy wouldn’t change, that his drama was first and mine had to fall by the wayside. Frustrating and disappointed is all I can describe the vacation that was supposed to allow both of us to relax and enjoy the city.

I have only had a few true loves in my life, Jorge (thanks for the kick ass diet when you left), the boy (I left him and regretted it, now we dance around the subject adnasuem until I am over it and walk, again) and Chandler who did what he thought he needed by pushing me away.

Looking at 40 barrelling down so quickly I have to do the gut check. Can I be okay on my own? I know I can, I can handle pretty much everything or as dad has always said, you don’t need a man to get far in life. I want one in my life but I don’t need one.

But this tunnel is a pain in my ass. The darkness, the random tears and go over what I have done in the past scream out at me. People joke about the padded rooms and going to a pysch ward but I get it. Sometimes the thoughts in our heads won’t shutup and those are the times you just want peace. I can feel the snotty crude trying to make a comeback and wonder just how long I can live in this tunnel before I see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I almost made a rash decision to invite myself up to a freind’s place in Chicago for St Paddy’s Day but knew that price of teh ticket would make me think twice. And running away has never made the situation better. I know others are worse off than me and I should be thankful for what I have in the here and now. But sometimes you just want one good thing to happen to you instead of getting the feeling that no matter what you do, you get knocked down. I really should be about 5’8″ but years of being knock down (some of my own doing) I have shrunk.

I am going to get back on that horse though, I am going to take personal training sessions and I am going to focus on me. I want to get better, feel better and in turn be able to harass my parents into getting healthy. I may have had a shitty few weeks but I can learn from them and move on.

And that my friends is how I am going to get out of this tunnel. I am going to fight it every step of the way and maybe, just maybe through that two piece in my bag and go swimming without a care in the world.

The One With the Birthday

Officially I am now 38, in fantasy land I am 35 and to strangers who see me sans makeup and work clothes I am probably 12. Let’s just say that the closer I get to 40 the more delusional I seem to get because while I welcomed 30 with open arms and a countdown I am not feeling 40.

I got to say though, this past weekend was great. I highly recommend taking off the Friday and Monday around your birthday. I am still dragging a bit but I am going to blame the old age for that one.

Thursday night was spent on the road with the Queen barreling down 75 to Atlanta. Sister cracks me up. We went to Atlantic Station, a nice mix of food and shops where we met a fabulous girl working a boutique who is headed to NYC for her dream soon. So jealous of her moving to NYC as well as the fearless leap she is taking with this dream. We also hit up Strip–Steak & Sushi. Let’s just say that in my foodie little world, this was just to die for because everything I tasted was wonderful!

Friday was spent wandering around Atlanta while the Queen was at a luncheon. IKEA! was the first place I hit and again, it didn’t disappoint. I browsed around, picked up a few things, drooled over a few things and then hit the cafe. As I was getting a refill a cute boy with long hair (this would be my high school self drooling) smiles so I smile back. As I was leaving the cafe to get my cart and finish my whirlwind tour of IKEA! he says hi, asks what I am doing and what I am doing later. When I said I was heading back to Nashville he asked if I would sit and talk with him for a bit. Besides the fact I was beet red, shocked that he was flirting with me and of all places for this to happen, IKEA! I was more concerned with my shopping.

You heard that right, instead of sitting down for thirty minutes to chat with a cute boy I said I had to finish my shopping. This would be my version of “I carried a watermelon.” And again, people wonder why I am still single? Then I promptly updated my FB status with this little gem because I had to remember this for posterity’s sake.

After hitting up Atlantic Station one more time I finally made it back to where the Queen was to pick her up and then we were barreling back up 75 to Chattanooga to pick up my car. The drive to Nashville was quick until I hit traffic before Murfreesboro. One of the many wrecks in Nashville for the night. The boy and I had reservations at Miel for 7:15 and I still needed to slap some makeup on and change clothes. I did manage to make it to his place at 6:29, ran in and heard him mumbling something about you’re a girl when I said I would get ready quickly.

Dude, I got ready in no time flat and was still waiting on him to get changed. But let’s just say I enjoyed the whole cowboy boots that he was wearing. I couldn’t stop giggling and I think I finally stopped when he gave me the “it’s not that funny” look when I asked if I could call him cowboy. Maybe that is why he is listed in my phone as Sour Puss. . .

Miel was beyond ridiculously good. I finally understood how the rat felt in Ratatouille and yes, I just referenced a rodent in a cartoon.  Two nights, two great meals. I can feel the fat growing. . .

Saturday was a blur of exercising, meeting up with a very sweet friend, shopping with the boy, eating at another French restaurant and then to cap off a great day in the city I call home, dinner with four fab friends. And way too much food. But just for giggles I got sung to by the staff (while a napkin was over my head, I was red then too) while our chef was banging on a drum. Good times.

After spending a bit more time in Nashville on Sunday I reluctantly came back here and was lectured by a certain cat named Wookie. He is never happy when I am not in his presence.

Today I slept in and then heard my phone go off way too many times with notifications of birthday wishes on FB. After lunch with the parental unit, shoe shopping and getting my hair done, I am finishing up laundry and then will take these old bones to bed.

What a birthday weekend, so blessed, thankful and full of delusion because there is no way I am 38. That just seems. . . wrong.

Getting My Skinny On

Well, I am working towards it anyway. . .

I thought I would give an update on how things are going because I think actually putting this out there keeps me accountable. Or it is simply I just don’t want to fall flat on my face.

So far I have managed to ditch 11 1/2 pounds! And yes, I am so counting that half pound. A lot of my struggles have been drinking water, keeping up the pace working out and eating enough. Full disclosure, I have been using the boy as a sounding board and for support. I am not really sure why his support is what is keeping this going (well, a bit of shopping on him kind of helps) but it is. Between emails and catching up every so often on the phone, it has launched me further in my resolve to get rid of the excess weight.

Of course one of the funnier moments came when I told him I sometimes curse him in my head while on the elliptical. I am distracted for a good bit of that time watching ESPN but normally that last five minutes I am hurting, tired and just want to quit. So I tend to tear him down all in my head. So I apologize to the boy for using him as a punching bag but dang! It really helps!

Then the second half of my workout is all the weight machines. With an eclectic mix of music, I go about my routine torturing my body further. I also have to remember that other people are around so I don’t sing or start dancing. I am loving the machine that works out my calves. See, I was never  one to be all about the toning of muscles, I just wanted to be skinny. But then I took a look at Bird’s calves and have to say, I am quite jealous. Girlfriend has some defined calves!

Between that and the two machines that work out your back and tummy, well, I could stay on those three all day. That was until this afternoon when I noticed a slanted weight bench that you could lock your legs on. Memories of doing situps with a medicine ball flooded my brain and I jump on it faster than a vat of chocolate at The Melting Pot. I hate normal, lay on the floor situps. They hurt and I tend to give up but using this little bench makes all the difference. I didn’t use a medicine ball this afternoon only because I didn’t want to hurt myself. Maybe next week. . . but I did manage to get through one and a half reps (so 15 total) and for an out of shape shlub I think that is just awesome.

I am sore, tired and need someone to come over and help me stretch everything back out because it isn’t pretty. And Wookie isn’t very helpful when it comes to me trying to get off the potty after peeing. Which I do all the time now thanks to all the water I am drinking.

Now to the food. . .I am not all that hungry. I checked with the boy about this issue because I don’t want my body thinking it is in panic mode. According to an app on my phone I need to eat 1,200 calories a day. I am doing good to get to that point (well, just a bit under) when I have an off day from the gym. But when you add the workout in, well then I drop a whole lot. So for the time being I am trying to get as close as I can to hitting that number daily and not worry about it.

I think I am going to take tomorrow off from the gym, but who knows. I may go ahead and workout since I am into a really good grove. Plus the taunting of my skinny jeans and a shopping trip is just too much to just sit on my duff.

Highs and Lows, All in One Weekend

Another whirlwind of a weekend spent in Nashville and I am still wondering where it went. . .

I am loving the new Nordstrom’s in Nashville, not the price tags of course and I still don’t understand spending $1,500 on a jacket but hey, someone will buy it. I loved seeing all the high end designer frocks but had to wonder who actually wears some of the stuff. My favorite part was the shoe department. I can now say that I have fondled the shoes that one day I will own (and pass down to the next generation). I finally saw my Manolo black patent leather Mary Jane heels. So pretty, so sweet and oh my, so expensive! I also fondled the shoes that Carrie from Sex and the City registered for when marrying herself. Ladies, those are really pretty shoes!

I also got to see several new stores and took in a much needed browsing of pretty things in Kate Spade. I was never a Spade fan but this weekend pushed me over there, a lovely purse in brown and black (no need to ever worry about your purse matching your outfit again!) as well as a Katherine Hepburnesqe pink dress with pockets that I know would just be perfect with those black Manolos. I think it is now time for me to get a second, third and fourth job just so I can have a closet full of all of these pretty things.

Of course the main reason for heading back home was not to window shop, although I guess at this point it would have been the better reason. . . nope, I headed home to go see Ole Miss play Vandy with the boy, one of his college buddies and his girlfriend. Sadly, I can say the only good thing about the game was the bourbon. Ole Miss played hard but couldn’t get it done or even halfway done. This isn’t the team I fell in love with a few years ago and it makes me sad that it was such a bad game. I will not admit defeat though because there is another week of play, so I will go into each game with the attitude of they will win and then hope for the best.

I did get to try out Ninki, a local Japanese restaurant in the Belle Meade area. Yum! Excellent sushi, fried rice to die for and the saki that I tried was good. When our little group wasn’t trying to keep the boy from jumping off the balcony after the loss we talked about food, food trucks, drinks and I think food. We also discussed my aversion to mayo.

This week is going to be full of pulling reports, working out, trying to clean my apartment, catch up on laundry and working out some more. I was scared to death to even look at the scale after my horrible eating habits from the weekend but luckily it wasn’t too bad. Now I just need to get back into my routine and hope that my hard work will start to show. I think that is my biggest challenge right now. I just want to see some results.

And I need to figure out how I can get a couple of pairs of those shoes I fell in love with along with a dress and purse. . . I wonder if Wook would be willing to get a job. . .

20 Years. . .

Next fall the Class of 92 will be gathering to celebrate their 20 year high school reunion. For those of us who graduated from Cleveland High many things have changed since we left campus. The junior high has been moved and is now classified as a middle school, My Alma Marta has built a science wing and upgraded the rooms, redecorated, instilled a dress code and  probably a whole list of things since we left.

Some classmates got married, had kids, stayed married, got divorced, found love after that, some came out of the closet, some have probably distanced themselves from their high school selves. The tie that bounds us all together is that we came from there. But other than that, I don’t think many of us would still think of ourselves as that same kid who walked in there as a freshman.

I have heard people make comments about not going to prom or not doing this or that. The reality is, it was just a dance. I somehow managed to go to four during my time in high school (well one was after I graduated but it was just the same). We get dressed up, go somewhere fancy to eat, we dance and then we go off on our separate ways to after parties and then home. I wasn’t in band, I wasn’t a cheerleader but I have somehow managed to deal with those.

I am of two minds when it comes to the reunion. I would like to go but I don’t have a fancy job, nor a fancy car and I don’t have a husband or kids to share with my classmates. But then I do have something that might be of interest. I am smart, funny and tend to just say what is on my mind, I learned that from a very sweet man in high school.

While this little old blog is just a way to get those writing urges out; I also know that there are others who read here and nod their head at the struggles of trying to find the right one. And if I find him, do I really want to settle down and get married. I am not knocking on my friends and their marriages. I am quite happy for them. But I also see the worries, struggles, the arguments that can happen. Maybe the right one hasn’t shown his face to me. Who knows.

When I look at the boy, sure I can find a lot of faults when it comes to his personality but those faults were what drew me to him in the first place. Not to change him but to learn together who to coexist. I walked because part of me thought he was just bidding his time and the other part was the simple sharing or doing something nice (like a card) were off his radar. He said a few months ago and I made him talk to me about it a bit more a couple of weeks ago. He said I was the one and that he loved me. He just needed time to get his head wrapped around it. While I don’t really get his reasoning for all of that I have to laugh now. The shoe is on the other foot and I don’t know if I really want to get married. I like being able to do what I want when I want and not having to consider anyone else in the equation. The freedom is what entices me to not worry so much about why I haven’t gotten married yet.

Do I want to get married? Jury is still out. I do still think about it, I think about that urge to build my own little family. To make my parents grandparents. To understand things my friends are talking about instead of being told, you wouldn’t get it, you don’t have kids. That kind of hurts, not going to lie.

But I do have so much to be thankful for and I take that with me. Will I be attending my 20 year high school reunion? I don’t know. If I am in my skinny jeans by then, the outlook looks better. I know that I am not a failure but there are times when I really do think I am. Good times.

So here’s to the Class of 92! I hope planning is getting underway. I am interested in seeing if we get more people out than last time.

Feeling A Bit Better

I tend to be a gluten for punishment. I can’t help it. I am quite stubborn you know. After learning the hard way that the boy was back on the dating market, I was devastated to say the least. But when I woke up this morning, I was mad. As in, I gave the relationship my all and he didn’t see it or he just didn’t appreciate it. Kind of sucks but I guess that is why you kiss frogs, in hopes that one just might be your prince. And while I am still upset over the things that happened, I can say without a doubt that he was a nice guy, it just didn’t fit like I wanted to.

Which brings me to my next step, dating. AGAIN. I have gone back to the site that at least matched me with someone that I have tons of things in common with and trying it all over again. Will it work this time? I don’t know but I do know (and here comes the ultimate “that is such a chick thing to say”) that time is not on my side. Meaning that at 35, if I want kids, taking a couple years off to heal, learn from past mistakes. . .well that doesn’t work out in my mathematical world.

I still do the what ifs, my stomach stays in knots but if I don’t leap now, I probably won’t. Why? Well, let’s just say, sitting in my apartment and going to work gets kind of comfy. And when that happens, trying to even get me out for drinks and dinner is harder than leading a horse to water.

I don’t know what the future holds but I have to start feeling better before I really do become the crazy cat lady.