The Delectable Discombobulation of Life

Clothes & Costumes

So, I went to the Salvation Army today to shop for my “Eliza Doolittle” costume for Halloween.  I never ever go to the Sally Shop although I think I will now, they’ve got great stuff there.  Anyhow, as I am shopping for my costume, looking for outrageous pieces of clothing to accommodate my look, I realize that while I’m at the Sally shop with the sole purpose of finding ridiculous clothes to wear for one day out of the year, there are people who are actually seriously shopping for clothes to wear regularly.  I began to feel incredibly evil being there.  I felt like I was making a mockery of them because where they go to buy day-to-day clothes, I go to find things that I wouldn’t dream of wearing any other time of the year.  The rest of my time there was spent in silent prayer that no one would realize I was picking out very ugly skirts that were way too big for me and shoes that would make someone’s grandmother cringe because, to me, if they saw what I was picking off of the racks, they would instantly understand what I was doing and maybe chase me off the premises.  Luckily, nothing of the sort happened but I was still relieved to leave that place and continue on in my quest.

Me Want More Food…

I find myself stressed out a lot at this point in my life.  The disdain I feel for my job, the frusteration at the lack of attendance in my classes, the obligation I feel to spend time with Sergio, the confusion when looking towards the future, and the total absence of relaxation in my life.  I am always on the move.  I wake up in the morning with 60 minutes before I need to be at work which inevitably makes me 5 minutes late every day; my lunchtime is filled with errands; my afternoon is a rush to get to the gym where I teach my cardio kickboxing and then followed by the disappointment when only one person, or sometimes no one, shows up; after my class, I’m doing an errand for my mom or I’m picking something up from somewhere before I go home where I have about one hour to bathe and eat before I meet my boyfriend for the night.  I usually get home about midnight and the whole mess of a day begins again the next morning.  I hate it.  I feel so stressed out that I am eating so much.  There are two things I think about all day: food & sleep.  I am always incredibly tired and just wish I could slump onto the floor and take a nap but since I can’t do that, I eat myself into oblivion.  At work, I am so tired and bored that I just think of food all day.  My body screams for sleep, so to survive through my day I need to distract myself and I use food to do that.  How can I remedy this?  My first instict would be to quit my job but I can’t do that right now.  Another one is to not spend almost every night with Sergio but that usually opens up a barrel of emotions that is quite difficult to round back up.  I don’t need a vacation.  I need to find a way to balance out my life. 

But a vacation would be nice.

It seems…

“I love you.

Not only for what you are.

But for what I am

When I’m with you”

-Roy Croft

Don’t Bother Me…

because I will hurt you.

…

So, I’ll be there when you arrive

The sight of you will prove to me I’m still alive

and when you take me in your arms and hold me tight,

I know it’s gonna mean so much tonight.

- Mamma Mia

More Six-Word Thoughts

Not friendly.  No friends.  Makes sense.

Mind constantly journeying to faraway lands.

He advanced.  I retreated.  Nothing happened.

I advanced.  He retreated.  Aw, shit.

I want to be alone now.

Wittiness is not easy for me.

My Bad Date. My Reeeally Bad Date.

First off, let’s talk about the money. He didn’t pay for anything. We met at a restaurant/bar where, I discover, there is a $7 cover charge. For a few awkward seconds, we stood at the entrance of the restaurant until I finally reached into my purse to pull out the money. This was the first sign that this guy was an idiot because in my opinion, if you invite someone to a place that has a cover charge, you pay for it.

*may I also interject here that he had been at the restaurant/bar since 4:30pm (our date was at 8pm) and had already eaten so while I ate, he just watched me. Creepy.

As we’re sitting at the bar and I’m eating, he launches into these long-winded monologues about how great he is and all the things he is doing while all I’m doing is asking questions whenever the conversation started to lull. He didn’t even attempt to ask me anything. The lulls in the conversation became more frequent and longer because I got tired of asking questions, so he took these opportunities to tell me how special my smile is, how it lights up a room and just really stupid, crappy, idiotic cliches like that.

When it became obvious that I wasn’t enjoying myself (at least, I tried very hard to make it obvious), he upped his “game” and asked me:

“So, what is the Perfect Man to you?” oh. my. god.

Me: “Um… *irritated sigh* I don’t know… I don’t think there is such a thing as a perfect man because there isn’t such a thing as a perfect human being.”

Him: “Oh, oh, yeah. Well, uh, what do you look for in a guy?”

Me: “What? I don’t know. You know, whatever.” Awkward pause. “Um, who is your ideal woman?” Damn. What else was I supposed to say?

Oh god. This causes him to vomit forth a whole lot of information that I found excruciating to listen to. I vaguely remember something about wanting her to be supportive and “getting his back” and being faithful. Desirable qualities for sure but at that point, I really didn’t care.

When he began to bring up “compassion” or “spontaneity,” I saw my chance to lower this guy’s opinion of me. I interrupted with, “Oh you’re compassionate? Yeah, I’m not compassionate at all. I think people should get over themselves.” To which he responded,” No, no, I can tell you have a big heart. You’re compassionate.” To which I responded, “No, I don’t. Believe me.” Or I said, “You know, I’m not spontaneous at all. I’m very particular about my time – in fact! I plan my spontaneity. If I know that I have to be spontaneous, I schedule it in so it doesn’t take me by surprise.” Didn’t work. He insisted that I was spontaneous. The guy’s a certifiable idiot.

I suppose since I wasn’t offering any information on the qualities I want, he took it upon himself to tell me what he thought I wanted to hear, such as how he would never cheat on the person he was with and would always support them, how great a listener and communicator he is, and that trust was so important in a relationship. Yawn.

He inquired again about what I like in a guy and, idiot that I am, I said:

“Um, he has to be supportive… independent… and have a great sense of humor.” I shouldn’t have said that – it gave him more ammunition to use in his ongoing battle into my affections. He began to count off the ways that he is supportive, independent and has a great sense of humor which was actually less than impressive.

Then I said, “He also has to be a challenge,” and he gave me this sly look and said, “Oh, I’d be a challenge.”

Me: “Really? How?”

Him: “I would definitely, uh, definitely challenge you.”

Me: “Great. Give me an example.”

Him: “You would find me challenging.”

Me: “But, how? In what way? Mentally? Emotionally? Physically? What do you mean?”

Him: “Oh, physically, definitely. Like, we could go hiking and uh, I would challenge you.” I think he just won the biggest moron award.

For an hour and a half, I endured his hopeless attempts to convince me to fall in love with him. He pretty much just stopped short of telling me he loved me.

Now, for the cherry on the top. When I finished with my dinner, the bartender asked if I wanted my check now and after a pause to see if my date would insist on paying for my dinner (which he didn’t), agreed that yes, I would like to have the check now. As the bartender was ringing me up, my date leaned over and asked how much I thought my beer was. I answered, “I don’t know, maybe $3” and he proceeded to throw a $5 bill in front of my face. Naturally, I gave the standard, “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” and before I even finished my sentence, he said, “Ok,” and literally snatched the $5 bill back. WTF?

I was desperately trying to find a way to leave when I noticed that he was beginning to dance in his chair to the live band music and I thought, Oh, hell no. I have got to get out of here. So, I turned to him and said, “I’m going. Bye,” and booked it out of there as he was mumbling something about hanging out again. He didn’t even offer to walk me to my car.

Such was my worst dating experience ever. I haven’t been on many dates but comparing him to others I’ve had, this guy beats all. I must say, though, he gave me a good long laugh as I was driving away and a great dating horror story to tell. I’ll give him that much.

Life is a Comedy

Life is a tragedy when seen in close-up, but a comedy in long-shot. - Charlie Chaplin

God writes a lot of comedy… the trouble is, He’s stuck with so many bad actors who don’t know how to play funny. - Garrison Keillor

I Love Growing Up

I love that as you grow older, people depend upon you to do carry your own load in life.  I love that they depend on you to get things done.  I love paying bills.  I love figuring out my money so that I am able to pay my bills.  I love having responsibility. 

 I love that this is my life.

 This is fun.

i cling to the fear that keeps me back

i use it as a shield.

afraid to take the first step, i stare at my foot willing it to move but oh so unsure of what will happen if it does. the fear is my excuse. “i am afraid.” no one will fault me for not doing but none will remember me either. but, i cry, mediocrity does not live within me.

once i take the step, i will no longer be afraid. but it is that first step. that first phone call. the first email. first conversation. first attempt.

will i fail? most assuredly.

will i succeed? if i move past my failures.

there is no failure without success.

so, move.

now.