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Archive for the month “August, 2012”

One and A Half Feet Out the Door…

I have a whole lot of grown woman songs in my head right now.

I’m slightly annoyed but entirely enlightened.

I was talking to two of my close friends. I said the magic words, “I think I may keep so and so around. I like him.”

So and so is the older gentleman, and we’ve been spending a nice amount of time together lately.

The most we’ve done is a lingering hug and a kiss on the cheek.

We’ve been trying all kinds of restaurants, he’s teaching me to play golf, we have gone to the casino and we have a really long list of museums and other things to check out and experience together. It’s no drama. He’s open and honest.

Words are powerful. As soon as I said what I said yesterday, I knew the universe heard me loud and clear, and would challenge me to hold me to it or back down.

As soon as I said it, I then followed up saying, “I can feel my ex coming. I haven’t heard a peep for too long, and now that I’ve said that, he’s going to pop up.”

I should have also included that I wanted a million dollars, because just as I was saying goodnight to my date after going out for seafood and then playing a few rounds of the Scrabble card game Scrabble Slam, my ex-fiance sent me a text.

You know the good ol’ how are you one.

I knew it.

I felt it, I knew.

His testosterone levels must have dropped, he felt a tingle in his balls, because I was having a really good time with someone else.

So I’m an active participant in my own torture. I return the message and then he asks to call.

So fine. We talk.

He let’s me know about his new job and he does his signature move of dropping information on me nonchalantly.

First, I said something snarky, so he playfully joked he would use all of the frequent flyer miles he’s racking up with his travel-heavy gig and come “hunt me down.”

To that I replied, “I’m at the same spot. There’s no hunting down necessary. No body is scared of you. Besides, I’ll believe it when I see it.”

I guess he saw this as a challenge.

So then he brings up the fact his company is headquartered 15 minutes from me. Duh, the last time we talked is when you hit me over the head with that info and then disappeared for three weeks, leaving me to deal with it, by sobbing uncontrollably and leaving work for the day. So no reminder is necessary.

He decides to announce that he’s told his superiors that anytime there is an opportunity to go to Maryland, he wants to be the person assigned.

Now, before when he mentioned this it seemed he would be assigned to go there from time to time, now he’s asking to be the one sent ANYTIME.

So he drops information, and I really didn’t react. I think I said something else snarky or changed the subject completely. He said I was acting stank when he just disclosed that he basically volunteered to be sent to Maryland as much as possible.

In my mind, I was asking myself what does this have to do with me? A year ago this information would have given me hope. Oooh, he asked them to send him to Maryland every time they need someone to go out there. Now, I just feel tired. Big deal.

The question is what are you trying to do once you get here?

What is your plan surrounding me?

At this point, I’d rather him go all out and say whether or not he wants me back and deal with my reaction than for him to drop all these hints waiting to see how I’ll react.

You’ll get a reaction out of me if you said, “I’m moving to Maryland permanently and I will do whatever it takes to be in your good graces again.” If he can do that or play P.M. Dawn’s “Die Without You” on two kazoos out his ass in two-part harmony, I’ll strongly consider he is really serious about me.

For right now, what he is shoveling me is filler.

And if you’ve seen me have a bad crab cake, you know how much I detest filler.

I honestly wanted one face to face over dinner to hash out some leftover stuff and move on, while looking ridiculously hot, give him blue balls and go home in triumph.

Even if he came back to Maryland for work after that grand event, I wouldn’t jump if he said he was in town.

But there he goes, upping the ante just slightly to get a reaction out of me. My reaction was not sleeping well last night and waking up annoyed this morning.

If he wanted to see me, he would have seen me by now. Long distance was hard enough the two years we did it. Now with him having a job where he’s gone and traveling four days out of the week, every week, he has no time for me.

He didn’t even mention any progress on his plan to obtain guardianship of his nephew, so I guess that isn’t even on his mind right now. He seems very much focused on himself… Oh that’s a newsflash. So that also pissed me off.

Dating the older gentleman taught me somethings. He treats me wonderfully. Like really great and we haven’t even rubbed up on each other. I may end up with a new car if I drop that thang on him. LOL. Just kidding. But I even told him, hey it’s so nice to be treated so well. I really appreciate it. The older gent said, “You deserve much, much, much more.”

Well hot damn.

He’s right.

While my ex is trying to earn frequent flyer miles to hunt me down, or come to my state when he gets assigned to do so once again illuminates that I am not a priority.

Following the first weekend we spent together, he wanted to see me so bad, he was on his job that Friday after booking a ticket in the morning and boldly walking off his job (his boss was out) to catch a flight. He even said if his boss called in to check, he could have gotten fired.

So if you had the balls to do that off of our first meeting, and you actually asked me to marry you, you would have found a way to come see me if you really wanted to.

I deserve much, much, more. So with that, I really think I’m almost done. I still love this man, yes, but really. I’m tired.
One of my favorite grown woman artists. Tweet. This is a gorgeous song. I’m going to cry, because this is one of her not well known tracks and it’s so on point. Lord this woman is a beast.

The Best Lasagna Made In the Entire World Aug. 7, 2012


Somewhere yesterday, in Italian kitchens, chefs and  grandmas labored and labored over probably the most delicious, technically and culturally correct pan of lasagna.

But it wasn’t the best pan of lasagna made in the world that day.

The best lasagna in the world that day was carefully crafted in a kitchen in an inpatient rehab facility in Baltimore, by a young woman who barely two weeks ago had a stroke, had difficulty doing everything, could hardly talk, couldn’t walk, get up or move around.

And she did it all by herself.

Part of her therapy is to get back into normal activities, and her task was to remember what ingredients she needed and how to put them all together to make her meal. She just wasn’t allowed to use the stove or oven unsupervised.

Her mother and I were over the moon.

When I came to visit her, her face lit up. She was happy to see me, she was smiling and laughing and was surprised. The suckie thing about the situation is, since she struggles with her short-term memory, every time I show up, it really is like the first time for her. She doesn’t remember I’ve been coming several times a week. But I don’t care.

She was alert, she was engaged in convo and she’s quite aware of her current limitations.

She even asked, “Do I still have a job?”

“Yes hunny, there are laws to ensure you still have your job.”

Earlier that day, I was sulking about feeling like I haven’t had any major accomplishments and how it’s been years since I sat on some panel or did something grand.

Only hours later, my friend, shakes her head looks at her mother and me and says, “Yall make such a big deal out of every thing. It’s just lasagna.”

I looked at her and said. “It’s a big, friggin, deal. A BFD.”

I’m humbled. I was upset because I hadn’t won any awards in a long time or had a front page article, but somehow a humble pan of lasagna made by a living, breathing, laughing, smiling miracle that is my friend, shot up to the top of the list of things to be proud of. It was a thing to celebrate. It was better than any accolade I could have garnered for myself.

Heck, after all, it was the best damn pan of lasagna in all of the world on August 7, 2012.

That commands respect and celebration.

Employment Guilt And Still Wanting More

I should be more thankful.

I say this over and over, especially when I’m sitting in a meeting at work ready to gauge my eyes out, or when someone asks me to do, well anything.

I’m making more money than I ever have in my entire career.

I get to work at my own pace and can work independently. I’ve worked hard to show I’m responsible enough not to be micro managed.

But I’m slipping. My hunger, everything. I’m not on my A game.

I have other desires and interests, and right now I’m in a dangerous place.

I want to pay my bills and go out to eat and live the life I’ve been killing myself over the last decade to finally live.

I’m even more guilty and I punish myself for acting like a diva when so many people are unemployed and underpaid. I’m just terrible. I call this “Employment Guilt.”

But my chest burns.

My mouth gets dry.

It’s harder and harder to get out of my bed.

Even the voices of some of my co-workers is enough to make me want to eat glass, or pick boogers out of my nose and just flick them at folks to make them shut up.

But I can’t do any of those things. The first is unhealthy and the latter is just nasty. Just plain nasty.

I have to look ahead. Look at my dreams and keep working toward them until they can become full-time and more importantly, profitable.

In the meantime, it burns me up that I’m slaving toward someone else’s dream and can’t put 100 percent into mine. But aside from my bills, the day job is funding the dream too.

Patience must persist. I have to put my emotions at bay and focus on the bigger picture.

I truly am thankful for my job. I hate feeling this way. I remember all of the jobs where I felt I was abused, worked to death and underpaid with little or no benefits. I remember how happy I was to get this job. I remember how happy I was to make it through two rounds of layoffs. So feeling the way I do right now, really makes it all the more complicated.

I can’t wait to establish my own culture for my company and its employees rather than hide within, beat or try to reform the one I’m already in. It’s not my culture to change. I’m tired of process, procedures, workflow and apathy.

I want to get back to my old, kick-ass self. Like I was so on it, I was annoying. I had so much passion. The reality of adult hood and being an independent woman (paying all of my own bills) tends to dull my shine these days.

I’m trying my best to live up to the fourth agreement of always doing my best. Which means some days your best may not be as good as yesterday or it’s better than the day before, but you can’t beat yourself up if you really tried your best. These days even the “worst” best days, feel like they’ve taken a whole hell of a lot of effort to get through.

And what it boils down to is, I no longer feel like the overachiever I’ve always been.

I can’t think of one super awesome accomplishment that just made me feel amazing like I contributed to something great.

It’s not even about others recognizing me, but me just really being proud of myself professionally.

I think it’s pretty safe to say I’m burning out and I need to figure out something fast before my work soul begins to atrophy.
I used to love this song off the “Mo Money Soundtrack”

Adults Should Go ‘School Shopping’ Too

Even if it’s a few funky notepads from cool sites like knockknockstuff.com (photographed here), adults, go “school shopping” for yourself.

After buying two tops in Marshalls, I just put myself on a clothing purchasing fast for the next two months.

I’ve been emotional lately. My exercise regimen has been shot to hell because of visiting my friend in the hospital after work, and on my off days from that, I’ve just been really tired or traveling.

See the aforementioned reasons and that’s also why I’ve broken my stellar record in terms of eating better. I’ve had soda at least three times this week and usually I do fine without it. I’ve been eating fast food a few times this week too. Not pleased.

So shopping also makes me feel good. Nothing like a trip to Marshall’s to get a dress for $20 or tops for $12. But all of that adds up.

I do say all that to say this.

My shopping habits can be based on my emotions or me just wanting something shiny and new because I was inspired by a fashion blog or Pinterest board. But I have noticed that although I shop for clothes and shoes all year long, I have a tendency to be more inclined to shop around late summer/early fall. I call it “Back to School Syndrome.”

Most of us who were fortunate went through the annual ritual of going School Shopping. If you were really lucky, your parents gave you a lot of room to make your own fashion choices pending their approval.

Me and my friends would spend hours talking about what our look was going to be as we entered a new grade. And the obsession with what we would choose for our staple looks (to last until we rack up again around Christmas time) went into over drive once we reached high school, where we were really shallow, self-absorbed and brand-crazy. Our popularity and status depended on it. Serious business.

It’s no wonder my closet starts getting a little more full in August and September, because in my mind, I’m supposed to be refreshing my look, because that’s what I did for most of my life.

I think it’s even MORE important for adults, especially those who have responsibilities to go out two seasons of the year and go “School Shopping.”

You need a new smart phone? Laptop? Tablet? You should get it.

Need new clothes and shoes? Get it. Those sales are applying to grown up clothes and gadgets too. Why not take advantage?

So what if you’ve been at your job for two years and maybe you didn’t get promoted, or you see the same people. Don’t wait for a new position or another job, go “School Shopping.” You deserve it. You pay the bills. Just because you don’t have to make an impression in home room doesn’t mean you can’t cop a few new fresh items to put in your wardrobe.

Refreshing your closet and your tools in such a way may actually refresh you so you can accomplish your professional goals. Get some new pens and new pads. Get some cool sticky notes and freshen up your office or your desk. I love this store Knockknockstuff.com for exactly that kind of stuff.


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