Set It Off

Those three little words with nary a second syllable in sight kind of describe the state of affairs in every aspect of my life right now. Work is a debacle and an explosion waiting to happen with the risk of high collateral damage that leaves me wondering how long to stick around. The personal front, well that's just a joke. Sometimes saying something even if it's something stupid isn't the best option yet I'm apparently suffering from some form of Tourettes in order to be heard. Just what I'm trying to say I don't know, but I don't have a super duper warm fuzzy feeling about the end result.

Just because I'm a Leo doesn't mean I really like fire, but it is all around me begging me to play with it. The burns that could result are too far in the distance to make an impact the way they should so that isn't helpful either. Here's to hoping for a warm toasting and not a scalding scar tissue result.

Wow.

Ok well that didn't work so well. For the record, when you forget your password and stuff on here, it ain't easy. Maybe it is for those who are smart enough (read, not me) to set a question that they can actually answer but whatever.

The last few weeks have flown by and I don't really know what I've done to show for them. There have been many articles, some rewrites and gasp, even a few rejections. Those suck as it is so friggin subjective. One editor seriously just hates my writing and won't approve anything I do. I can resubmit with changes under a different title but then (and this is the part they don't tell you) it gets flagged for plagarism. Isn't that nice? That means it takes even longer to go through. I'd like to write more for them but that whole legitimate job that expects me to be mentally present 40 hours a week gets in the way.

There were two dancing excursions which were awesome minus the attempted mounting by a guy on the first one. I get the courtesy dance which we've all done but after that, a smile and a nod and the guy should get the hint. Not so much for him. He also had no rhythm which was approaching flightless bird status so I was laughing so hard I could hardly stand up.

Yep, guess that sums up the last few weeks. Now it is on to bridesmaid mode for one of my bestie's weddings this month. I should probably start prepping my liver now for the bachelorette party.

How Reality Bites=My Life

For most of us that graduated in the 90s (late 80s and early 00s too to be as wide-reaching as possible) there are a few key movies that we’ve all seen. It was part of being in that time where flannels, chain belts and Doc Martens were in and (thankfully) big hair was going out. While many of these movies have their place in history and our hearts, I had a complete epiphany about “Reality Bites” as I saw it for the zillionth time a few days ago. The character of Troy completely sums up my romantic history and is a parallel for what I go for and how I think about it. I know, totally out there but bear with me.

In order to completely understand, you have to know that I am that stereotypical good girl. Always have been. I was the “smart, nice” one in high school who was National Honor Society president (for 2 years) and didn’t sneak out, didn’t stay out late. I was that girl your parents always asked if you could be more like. And as every good girl knows, we like the bad boys. Bad boys being a relative term and not in any way indicative of the Detroit Pistons of that era either. For the most part, the guys I liked were pretty decent and I only had one or two that were in to drugs or drinking heavily. Maybe a few that were too old for me but nothing that would really get anyone in trouble. It all began with the desire for someone out of my league though.

Back to the point. I’ve always wanted/liked/pined over the guys that were rough around the edges, needed someone to care, perhaps had an issue or 12 that needed to be fixed. (I know, you can relate.) The thing is, they had absolutely amazing hearts (once you found them). They weren’t bad boys, they were misunderstood or trying to find themselves or everyone else had given up on them and they figured they might as well just be asses. This is where Troy (Ethan Hawke) in “Reality Bites” comes in.

Troy, who is hot by the way and I tended to like guys that I found hot even if other people didn’t, was a wayward son who says that he just gave up due to circumstances and events. He doesn’t hide his issues and will snark on people so that they don’t look at him. But you know he’s looking for someone to reach out to him and just let him be him. And Lelaina almost tries but is so scared of ruining a friendship and is all wrapped up in finding the “right” kind of guy that she takes way to friggin long to come around. Troy is the EPITOME of the guy that I’ve always gone for because he does have a good heart and does come through in the end (that last scene after “All I Want Is You” where he’s on the front lawn makes me want to reach through my TV and hug him way before she does).

See, I know they have good hearts and I know they will (eventually) come through. Therefore I totally ignore rationalize whatever their actions and just look at the light at the end of the tunnel. I’d like to think that in my old age I now don’t do this, but on some level I think I still do. To be fair, I don’t think there is anything wrong with guys that are a little rough around the edges because normal is boring. I like laughs, I like off color jokes. I like that someone is an individual and not part of the herd. Maybe I’ve come a long way since my days of Gap flannels but does that mean that looking for the good in people has to go away too? I hope not. Until I figure it all out though, Troy Dyer (minus the cigs) is gonna have to keep me going.

Snippets of My Weekend

While I knew that there were some parts of my weekend that were set in stone, there were some new things added that made it a lot of fun. Granted it wasn’t so good on the sleep side, but when is that ever what my life is like right?

Sunday was the baptism for my godson. Since there is no consistency in terms of religious preferences between the parents and godparents, this is more of a “stay in the kid’s life/honorary” type thing. I did however receive a certificate as his sponsor and that was cool. I’m still holding out for a fairy wand. What, I can’t be a fairy godmother? I mean, I totally could have used one in my day. I should probably Google that later to see if I can find one.(This picture is from suzykendall.com and would be a good look for me right;)

In an effort to get through my Blockbuster queue, I watched two movies (in my spare time) this weekend. The first was Boondock Saints II. Not what I wanted/expected and I had pretty low expectations going in to it. I know sequels are never as good as the first but still. There were cheesy moments that were almost painful to watch. They set it up so there can be a third one and I’m hoping that is a smidge better.

Next was Law Abiding Citizen. Yes, I’m a sucker for Gerard Butler. Again, I get the idea and where they wanted to go, I just don’t think it got there. Not as painful as the first, but still something I’m glad I didn’t spend my money on in the theater.

Oh, that other stuff I was talking about? That was fun but not a story for the blog:)

Dictionary Part 2

Approved friends list: the people that are acceptable to be around.

Boy: generic term for the male in my life that makes me want to pull my hair out. Sometimes they have “men” tendencies, others they are just still waiting for Gepetto to make them real.

Conpuzzled: a combination of confused and puzzled. When one just isn’t enough, use both. Pretty much the constant state of my life.

Marbles: synonym for brain but what I do not possess anymore

Moron: term of endearment for those in my life (seriously)

Who Doesn't Love Embarassing Moments?

As it seems another one is biting the dust, I thought I’d take a trip down memory lane. Most of my life has been filled with completely embarrassing moments that others like to bring up and, well, if I’m being honest like to instigate. Some of them I can live down, others I just can’t. And many revolve around me and some stinking boy I liked (one could have called me boy crazy back in the day. As I’ve grown up, that hasn’t really changed:)). I guess this is as good a place as any to just throw them out there and take the embarrassment away on my own. Let’s take a look at the top five embarrassing (boy) moments from my youth:

5. Sophomore year in high school I had the hugest crush on a guy named Casey. As my initials are KC, my dear friend Jenny would find it appropriate to scream them whenever we were within two feet of each other (the guy and me). As he had no idea who I was, he’d look and get quite confused. One day he actually asked who I was and why I was standing next to him. I’m pretty sure he thought I was nuts.

4. The seventh grade school project diary I wrote on the Civil War. Sounds innocuous right? Not so much. In it I took on the last name of the (older) guy I liked from Alabama and we were married. Um, yeah his family totally got a copy of that one and it was hard to live down. In my defense, Charley was completely cute, but I may have gone slightly overboard in how much I missed him while he was “off to war”. I did get an “A” on the assignment though and it was enough to make me apply to Auburn.

3. I was stood up for Sadie Hawkins my Freshman year as my “date” Mike got back together with his (ugly) girlfriend two days before the dance. He had forgotten to tell me and I had already purchased (hideous horizontal stripe) shirts. Not one to be deterred and having to find a date as my mom was set to drive two other couples, I had to find someone. That was our friend Justin and somehow we got “married” that night with the picture making it to the yearbook. Everyone thought we were dating. Not that there was anything wrong with Justin, he just wasn’t football/basketball/baseball captain material like Mike was. I never lived that picture down and I still blame Mike.

2. There’s a Denny’s in Hampton, VA that I’m not allowed in at the same time as one of my ex boyfriends. We had a very spirited discussion in the restaurant about his “friendship” with other girls and just how friendly it was. I *may* have raised my voice considerably during this time and *may* have decided that climbing over the table was appropriate. This may have been after he gave details that weren’t really necessary. We may have been causing a scene that others stopped eating to watch. It didn’t get a whole lot better from there and we were politely asked to leave. On the way out, they suggested that it would be better if we never returned at the same time. And that the suggestion was more of a mandate.

1. It’s safe to say I made my way though many of the boat racing guys I grew up with or knew (get your mind out of the gutter, I mean I dated or kissed most of them, nothing icky going on there. I was a good Catholic girl). There was one however that didn’t quite see the appeal of dating me and I just liked him a lot and hoped that he’d come around (such a change from my life now right????). Anyway, on the way back from a race a million miles away, we had a caravan of trucks and boats all keeping contact with CBs. Again, nothing that sounds dangerous there. Well, as we entered later in the night the conversation took an ugly turn and while we thought the person in question was sleeping, one of my friends thought it a nice idea to talk to his crew chief about my crush. This would have been slightly fine if all the other trucks couldn’t hear it too, including the girl I thought he liked. And if he was really sleeping. About two minutes before we were stopping at a restaurant for a late dinner, he came on and said he heard everything and that there was no chance. Um, awkward much? Upon arriving at the restaurant I promptly exited the vehicle and tried to hide under a newspaper stand.

Is it any wonder I turned out the way I did?

New Dictionary

For those of us of a certain age, it was a rite of passage that upon entering college you'd get this huge dictionary to take with you. And there is the great part of the cult classic "Say Anything" where Diane Court has gone through her dictionary and highlighted the words she has looked up. I think it is time we start a new dictionary of what some terms really mean. Here's part one.

Friends: completely ambiguous term that means someone you don’t loathe or despise. It could mean you actually like the person or just don’t have apathy for them.

Later: sometime that isn’t now but isn’t when hell freezes over either. When said by a man, it’s a crap shoot how close to hell freezing over it will actually be.

Ledge: the place you reside while liking a stupid male. There is no cure, no magic pill, just a teetering, uncertain feeling that never quite dissipates.

Pseudo/quasi/eh: all three are interchangeable in terms of not putting a label on something that should totally have a label but since label is scary these modifiers are used to keep us on said ledge.

My Three Day Rule

By this point in our lives we are all familiar with the three day rule. To recap, it basically means that after a first date (and in some cases any date) with a guy you will anxiously wait three frickin days before he contacts you. Yeah, whoever came up with that one is a genius right? I mean, if you like someone...anyway I’m starting to digress from my point and it’s too early in the day for that. The gist is that things take time and no one wants to put anything out there and it goes back to my hate the player not the game issue which is still wholly unresolved.


My three day rule is slightly different. I’m not the most patient person in the world but I have my moments. For e example, when it comes to the person I like I seem to have all the patience in the world and will put up with just about anything. And as A pointed out last night, I tend to take a while to learn from those experiences but at least I learn. The three day rule here is that I can put up with just about anything and accept just about anything for 48 hours without question. The moment that third day hits and I enter in to 72 hour territory, I start losing my marbles. I don’t know what the real deal behind that magic number is, but it happens almost every single time.

It’s almost scary how content I can be during those first 48 hours and the turn it takes going in to 72. It’s like all my prior knowledge goes out the window and I have no perspective on things. Gah! I’d really say THIS is my worst trait although others may disagree.

Maybe it’s because anything can be dealt with for short period of time but by the time almost half a week rolls around I start to question intentions. I mean, it makes sense to have a 24 waiting period between a phone call or an e-mail and I can even see it taking longer based on outside life factors, but by the third day it just seems careless and rude. And for the record, I know this sounds crazy but at least I’m self-aware and honest;)

So to make a long story short (too late I know), I’m feeling fidgety. Not the fidgety I normally have (hey, it burns calories) but the “going to throw a phone through a wall/computer and bail” kind of way which is never good for anyone. Here’s to hoping it changes soon.

Hanging with the Kids

To say that this was a humongously random weekend would be an understatement. There were three things I had planned on doing and two of those did happen, but the rest was an amalgamation of oddities. Partly due to conversations (some long overdue and some that didn’t happen), partly due to participants and well, partly due to the fact that as much as I hate my new “go with the flow” attitude I’m still embracing it and acting upon it. Sigh.

What hit me like a ton of bricks this weekend is that I am not a youngen anymore (is that supposed to be two words, hyphenated or something? Where’s the rule book for these terms?). See that picture to the left? It was my 21st birthday and that's the bottle of tequila my mom bought me. I could totally rockstar it then. By no stretch am I an old spinster or even, well, old but there are certain things that can be done at 21-22 that attempting at this age will not work out well. Then again, I’m fully embracing the fact that some don’t think I look a day over 26 so I’ll run with it. Yep, I’m 26 or at least 26+.

For example, staying out past a reasonable bedtime two days in a row, with getting up early, no nap and two hours of Krav does not make for an easy end to a weekend. Of course, if you take out the Krav part you could be talking about a four year old too but not the point. Now add some alcoholic beverages and a penchant for thinking too much before falling asleep and you have a potent combination. I’d try and count the hours I actually slept on Friday/Saturday but that would make me sad. Unlike the hours I slept Sunday (there was no Saturday/Sunday sleep as that didn’t even happen until like 5 a.m.) which might outnumber the awake ones.

All this in separate instances might not have made me think of the fact that I can’t hang with kids anymore if it wasn’t that part of the randomness had me hanging with “kids” Saturday. I have to say, it had been quite a while since I attempted beer pong or had been in a house where the DINING ROOM TABLE looked like it was only used for beer pong. How did this happen you ask? I met a friend at the bar earlier in the evening and through a string of six degrees of separation that I don’t remember he knew the kids in question. They seemed like alright people. I was the DD that night and far from a party pooper so off to the kids house we went. Oddly the music selection was much more something from my day but perhaps that was a nod to the old farts in the room;) The night was a lot of fun even without the benefit of alcohol but then again I pretty much always have fun when out with that friend. I did feel like the bad mom when I was shutting our participation down at 3:45 a.m. because, well, I was going to fall asleep. Then there was the little excursion to try and get home with a very inebriated co-pilot but it really adds to the fun of the randomness (see, I can go with the flow).

The point is that back in the day a weekend like this would be normal and I could have spent Sunday doing just about anything and woken up at a reasonable hour. 2 p.m. is not a reasonable hour for an adult! And I dragged all day when I didn’t even do anything to drag from! Back in the day I could do that and not feel like crap. I could hang and drink and all that and not have my eyes physically hurt from being so tired. Being older sucks. Having a job to get up for at 5:15 a.m. this morning sucks. I want to be a carefree kid who can hang like that two nights in a row. Ok, perhaps not all that far but at least have some stamina. Damn.

My Shower is Bipolar*

When I moved to my new apartment last fall there were few things that I was really looking for. Example: it had to have central air conditioning (you’d be amazed at how many places do not), good closet space and preferably more than one bathroom. I’m pretty simple when it comes to these things. Notice that kitchen space isn’t on here because who are we kidding, I don’t cook.

At any rate, I found my complex through a friend and as it met all the main criteria plus some, I was sold. At that point it didn’t take much to sell me as it was also cheaper than my old place and with better windows but not the point. I should have looked a tad closer at the shower though.

The Thoughts In My Head

While it isn’t something people normally own up to, we all talk to ourselves (yes, I did just own that). Admit it, you’re talking to yourself right now (either some variation of “no I don’t talk to myself” or “holy hell, she just admitted a deep dark secret we pinky swear not to tell”). For the most part, we don’t have to worry about it being heard. We try to be all slick about it and most of the time do pull off just doing it in our heads, but every now and again those pesky words just kind of slip out. That’s when we have those “oh God, that wasn’t just in my head, that came out out loud” moments and try to play it off as something totally unrelated. Those are mainly harmless and kind of funny, but I’ve been finding that my inner filter is keeping too much inside as of late.

The thing is; many of those talking to ourselves moments are over things we are too scared to say to those closest to us or that sound so crazy to us that it is kinda scary. For example, my last inner monologue conversation revolved around the fact that I’m currently contemplating something that is so counter to my nature that if I did tell most of my friends they’d be a little scared.

We Went to Sea the World

With all the attention Sea World has been getting lately, it made me reminisce about a dream nightmare I had as a child that would haunt me for years. Yeah, I know, it’s been a while since I was a child but work with me will you?

In spite of my deathly irrational paralyzing fear of drowning, I’m obsessed with all things marine, especially sharks and whales. The thought of swimming with them sounds great in theory, but there is no way I could ever do it. No way. That said, I watch everything I can about these creatures and think it’s a sign from God that Shark Week always falls near my birthday:) And I spent a summer going to Sea World to see the whales and well, some of the performers too.

My trips at 16 were no small accomplishment due to my aforementioned nightmares about Shamu leaving the tank and stalking people in the gift shop. Yeah, that was what my 5(?) year old mind came up with after my first remembered trip there. The picture below is of a simpler time when I didn’t know that I would have nightmares later. This stinking nightmare stayed with me for the longest time and I kind of held it against Shamu in particular and orcas in general. At random intervals I’d rehash this dream.

A happier time before knowledge...