life seen thru the eyes of a neurotic 20 something gal in search of something, nothing, and everything....but not all at once...I think.

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

I've hit rock bottom

My best friend from high school called today. She got married and called to tell me she's pregnant. Jaw dropping for me. I am happy for her but then I had a sudden realization. Everyone around me is dating someone, involved, engaged, married or having kids. I think I must be the only single girl left!! I feel like such a loser and then, frustrated, I called my other friend hoping she would make me feel better about being fabulous and single. Well how can you meet someone? You're married to you fucking job and work with nothing but gay or married people. HELLO.....now's the time you comfort me and say screw that. UGH....I know I am not the only single person out there but damn, I am starting to have a meltdown. Am I being too picky, independent, stupid...WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING WRONG? That mid 20s crisis thing must be kicking in early.

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Grey's anatomy...a new favorite

I've heard the talk about this show but never, in a million years, did I realize it was that damn good. Drama, sex, comedy...you name it, it's got it. I mean Patrick Dempsey was enough to make me swoon and not change the channel immediately, but Sandra Oh is what kept me watching. Damn that woman is funny! I highly recommend tuning in... a little confusing to catch the story line at first, but well worth it in the end. Can you believe Meredith slept with George...have you no shame woman?!

questioning love

I went to lunch with a co-worker the other day. While eating our food we were discussing our relationships and I told him about my wigged out dream and the wedding. He made an observation about the situation I don't think I had ever realized. He said the reason why he thought I was so weird about marriage and such was because I am extremely independent. I rely on myself to make my destiny not some person on a white horse. Marriage means becoming one and not being quite so independent. He thinks I am afraid of losing myself....and I think he's right.

A long time ago, I was in a relationship and I did lose myself. I forgot who I was and settled for less than what I knew I deserved because I thought that's what a relationship was about. WRONG. It took me 2 years to find myself and figure out what the hell I wanted. The next relationship, I knew better but somehow the thing fell apart. I didn't settle for second best and in the end it was over because I needed to be comfortable. He was a wonderful guy and I still think if we had met at a different time our lives we could have made it.

In U2's soulful ballad With or Without you, Bono belts out how he can't live with or without this person. Is that kind of love really possible anymore? I wonder if that all consuming, silly, stomach flipping kinda love really exists. Maybe I'm too jaded for this game. Suppose love does smack me in the face someday again. Will I even know what it is anymore?

Saturday, February 25, 2006

I may be going crazy

So, the last two nights I've had some really crazy dreams. The first was just awful. I, who am already terrified of marriage, had a dream about my wedding day. Not the typical happy picture of a white gown and a wonderful day. In this dream I was getting prepped, hair and makeup, the usual girly things. People are swarming around me talking, giggling, smiling. Someone is curling my hair and all I can hear is my own voice saying why am I doing this? My voice is booming and only I can hear it. It continues to say hello there...the cold feet have not stopped. This is a BAD IDEA. Of course, I say nothing. I get to the church and the wedding party is going down the aisle and my dad is standing next to me ready to give me away. Right before the doors open to walk I turn to my dad and say," Daddy.....I can't do it. I can't get married. Don't make me do it...please!!!" At this point, I break into tears and my poor dad, looks at me with this face. His face is saying I can't believe I just spent all this money and you don't want to even get married! He of course says, "Well sweetie you don't have to if you don't want to. Daddy would never make you do anything you don't want." It was awful...and then I woke up really upset.

Bad dream #2: In this dream, my family was there and we were in the country. It was so beautiful and we were having such a grand time. We were on top of this hill that looked down into a valley. Everyone started running down the hill and at the foot of the hill stood Paul, my older brother. He was in his military uniform and everyone was hugging him. I started bawling. My dad was standing there and I was so excited to see him. It has been....2 years now since I have seen him. We are not speaking in reality today because of a personal affair. So, I am jumping up and down and so happy to see him. Tears are running down my face and he refuses to see me. I am standing on this hill just sobbing. I am walking towards him and he is walking away and will not talk to me. At this point I woke up and am, of course, dripping with tears and sadness so deep my chest actually hurts.

After two nights of this, I do believe I might be losing what marbles I had left. I wonder just what other painful scenario I will concoct tonight.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

stressed out

I've had a bad week. It started on Sunday and has just kept getting worse. I think I may actually be at the point of tears. Totally unprofessional. For lack of better words and far too much estrogen today, I need a big hug and a bowl of ice cream. I hate being a girl.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

Everything is right with the world

On Friday, I had the pleasure of actually taking a real day off. I went to get my hair done by my oh so fabulous hot hairdresser(yes, he is straight beleive it or not!). I proceeded to shop and get a pedicure. I must say how can anything be wrong when you have fantastic hair?

I took a gander at the ex's new gal pal online. Not terrible and not wonderful. Middle of the road for me, although my friends swear otherwise. God I love you for that. Had amazing conversation with a really attractive man. Laughed and smiled genuinely. It was nice. Not quite ready to reveal the mystery boy, only time will tell. But man what chemistry! Now if only I could have this feeling everyday.

How dare you challenge me!

I am a competitive person by nature. My brothers were competitive sportsmen and I was the competitive academic overacheiver. I hate being less than what I know I can do and I want everyone to know that the potential I have is no joke. I really try to deliver on my promises and push myself and others to be their best. One thing I can't stand is being number 2 (first loser) and the other is being challenged by anyone. Tell me I can't do it, or threaten my competitive nature and you are destined to go down.

Oddly enough, my company has decided to expand the business by adding another division. Saturday afternoon, my co-manager and I were informed that we were considered as as test market store. Considering where our business started and where we have taken it thus far, I must say I was absolutely flattered and stoked. A little birdie told me, another lesser store was trying to compete for the same bid. No offense, but my businesss does well over a quarter of a million more than you. I have the highest volume in the district and one of the top in the company. While I admire your ambition, the challenge has spurred me. I will get that new division damn it. I will not be shown up by someone else who clearly has had a reputation for kissing ass. I work hard and I have an amazing staff. I will get that division and even if you never ever see this...game is on. So, you better be ready...this could get ugly (fair but ugly).

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

get to work losers

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning--plain and simple. My wavy red mess of hair refused to straighten. My makeup was looking crappy. I was just not in the mood to face the world. To make matters worse, when I got to work I had a load of crappy emails awaiting responses. One service issue after another, reply with your stats, blah, blah, blah. It seems like when I enter my store I am off and running before I can even think. There is always so much to do...paperwork, phone calls to return. I was just really annoyed because everyone in the world has time to sit with their thumbs up their ass and email. FYI... nobody gives a flying F@#$k about your big sale or your feedback on new product. Nobody gives a shizzle about how great your new wall layout looks. In fact, I venture to say if you were busy working on making the money like some of us then maybe you wouldn't really care either. Stop emailing the world and get to the floor and sell. Then maybe when the regional visits you won't be grasping for straws trying to tell her why you can't make your damned numbers.

Sunday, February 12, 2006

quilted sorrow

I woke up this morning under a cloud of down pillows and covers. The quilt that rested a top the jumble of covers was an old star patch quilt my mother gave me about 5 years ago. At the time, we were still doing the song and dance that constructed our dysfunctional relationship. For some reason she said she thought I should have it. When I was really little, my mother used to make quilts and the one she had made me from then had long seen its days. The fabric was worn and tattered..torn from years of loyal service. I took the new quilt and when the last breaths of our relationships emptied themselves out 3 years ago...I still had it.

This morning, as I lay comfy and warm, I noticed for what seemed like the first time all the small unravelling threads and worn patches. I ran my hands over the patchwork and delicately traced the patterns. Seems like my mom and I could never get along. All the years we spent at odds...and now, all the years I've spent avoiding her. If ever two people were opposite, it is she and I. As I studied the quilt this morning...I had a sad realization. My mother could never get it right between us. There was always this anger and jealousy between us. She never could show her love for me, only her disdain and anger really. Snide remarks, ugly criticisms. The one thing she could do right was make a beautiful quilt. The intricate stitches, the beautiful scraps of fabric and the thread would marry and create a masterpiece of pure beauty. I spent years trying to figure out why she and I were like this, until finally, all resources exhausted physically and emotionally, I gave up. I asked her to not call and decided to move on with my own life...without her.

This morning, as I layed underneath that shroud of quilt, I understood why she wanted me to have that quilt. Even if she could never say she loved me or show it to me, she meant well. She wanted to be somewhere in my life even if that damned quilt was all it could be. Suddenly, I was tired and the quilt was just too much for me. I got up and folded it neatly into the linen closet. Someday when I am capable of accepting that I will be able to put it back on the foot of my bed.

Friday, February 10, 2006

The proof is in the pudding

It is safe to say that I, much like Miranda Hobbs of Sex and the City fame, can be a little cynical about men. I sometimes feel like all men are only out for sex and that most men use their potential to be an ass as often as they can. The latter of the two I found to be startling true about even those men I held in the highest regard.

Today, my best friend from college, called. He recently moved back to Texas from the Windy City this past week and I WAS ecstatic. While in conversation, I heard his mom in the background and said hey, tell your mom I said hello. He did. Blah, blah, blah. I asked what she was doing (his mom) and he replied." thinking about how fat your ass was in those jeans you wore the last time she saw you."


His mother responded quickly with that what the hell were you thinking, thank god. I had to pick up my jaw off the damned floor. While good natured joking is common in our relationship, we have never crossed that line--EVER. I mean who the hell says that? I mean for god sakes, I know better than anyone just how big my ass is. I know it's not ever going to fit into a size 2 pair of jeans but do you have to say that? As if women, primarily myself, aren't self conscious enough.

To make matters worse, I just couldn't bounce back. Aw, sweetie you know I was joking, right? What was that I replied. Couldn't hear you since my ass was obscuring my ability to hear you. Insult to injury was compounded by the simple words "but I like big butts." Is it enough to say my feelings were tremendously hurt that he would even joke about that. My brothers pick on me even to this day, but never about weight or they way we look. There are some lines no one should cross, and listen up men..picking on a woman and her body is like walking onto the battle field. She may be a stick but don't joke about her being fat. She may have small breasts but it is never ok to say that. The only people allowed to utter words like those I heard today are your best girlfriends who have seen you puke while drunk, held your hand during the most traumatic of breakups, and told you with all the love in the world that you look simply amazing with your mascara running down your face. Proof all men use their ability to be an ass every chance they get. Shameful...and very sad.

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

tagging is getting old

Let me just preface this entry with I don't like the tag game. I do not like being an anchor either though. So please, Laura and Shib, forgive me in advance and hammer out some answers.

Four jobs I've had...
1. Student
2. Babysitter
3. Assistant Manager
4. Store Manager

Four movies I would watch on repeat...
1. Dirty Dancing
2. Ferris Bueller's Day Off
3.Erin Brockovich
4.Gladiator ( don't ask me why.)

Four tv shows I love...
1.Sex and the City
2.Project Runway
3. Will and Grace
4. The Apprentice

Four vacations spots I'd love to frequent...
2. Australia
3. England
(It's the accents...they drive me wild!)

Four websites I visit daily...
1. Banking website to check bank account.
3.The Shib @ dayin-dayout.blogspot.com--you are so damned hillarious some days.
4.My fave bloggin' single aussie--Ryan :)

Four radio shows I love...
1. None---I listen to music all the time. Talk radio is annoying.

Four foods I lust for...
1. Hot Cheetos
2. Homemade flour tortillas
3.Cheesecake--any kind
4. Fresh strawberries

Four changes to my house...
1. Bigger
2. Poolside
3. Private garage
4. Professionally decorated

Four beers I like...
1.Shiner Bock--the original
2.Ace Pear
3.Blue Moon
4.Miller lite(hey whatever works when cash flow is low)

Four artists I like...
4.Edwin McCain

I have only Laura and the Shib to tag.

Sunday, February 05, 2006

the worst kind of cock block

This week I was on vacation. After much debate, I decided to take a trip home, which for those of you who know me, is in the God forsaken country far away from coffee, civilization, and sanity. I took the bus out there cause I was too lazy for anything else. This hot guy, and when I say hot I mean smokin', felt the need to strike up a conversation. What ever act of God caused that I was up for it. So, we are waiting for luggage talking and my dad is waiting for me. He sees me talking and the guy is smiling and I am smiling and we are totally having a freakin moment. That's when good ole dad decides he will strut up grab my luggage and declare extremely loud that he is ready to go. At this point, I am ready to die and crawl into a hole. Damn dad..you just f-ed up my mojo! I was so on the way to gettin the digits or givin them out. You suck.

Offense #2...my lil bro asks if I will tag along with him to one of his college classes. While I was not all that thrilled to go back to school, I did get up and go so I could spend some time with him. The campus, which is HUGE, requires riding a shuttle bus that virtually everyone gets on at some point. This includes hot young male students--:) We are on the shuttle and a hottie turns and gives me the wink and smile. I smile back and when this occurs about three times my brother, looks at me and then looks at the guy and says loud--"WHAT?" Embarrassed doesn't even cover how I felt. I thought the days of the overprotective dad and brothers was over at age 24. Turns out it may have just kicked into high gear.