I have so many stories to tell, but today I sat down and started thinking about how much my life has changed in the past year - mainly due to the fact that my birthday was less than a month ago. But in all honesty, I never expected my life to take me for such a ride or that I'd grow up as much as I have.
I am incredibly thankful for the people that have come into my life, as well as those that have finally left it. And I take pride in the person that I'm becoming. I still make a ton of mistakes, but learning is ultimately what makes us grow.
One year ago I was a freshman all over again .. to the real world. I was struggling along with my graduated class to find a job, holding on to an unhappy and unhealthy relationship and nervous about my decision to stay in TX, plus there have been some other really hard times along the way. I thought my dads plea's and friends peer pressure would make me move home, especially when I lost what I thought was "the love of my life".
Unfortunately my father has always been right .. "feel the pain, you know you're alive". And feel the pain I did, but when the going gets tough, the tough get going (so cliche, i know).
So, here I am so lucky to be where I'm at, which is a total 180 to last summer. I have a stable job in this rough rough economy, friends that I have grown 10x closer to in the past year and probably a lot of people I would have never met if I moved away, a family that has come together and truly shown support in tough times, currently single and happy with who I am rather than who I'm with and something I thought would never happen .. I became a TX resident.
It hasn't been easy, but I'm happy, healthy and again, so thankful to be where I'm at. So, I love you all (if you ever read this). Thank you for making my life what it is .. I'm incredibly lucky.
Live & Learn.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
hi, i'm obnoxious.
I'm sure you all have had those moments where an hour later you think "why the hell did I do/say/think/express that?" And luckily most of the time we can forgive ourselves and refrain from doing/saying/thinking/expressing it in the future. Let's just say I've had a lot of those moments and over time I'll share with you a few of my "wow, hi, I'm obnoxious" stories.
Last weekend a few friends of mine thought it'd be a stellar idea to attend the X games. My friendly companion for the evening purchased our tickets on E-Bay. Everything seemed legit, until we got screwed out of our seats because the camera crew "needed more room". To make up for it they gave us wrist bands to the after party. When the games had finished and we gathered with our other friends, we thought "hey, as long as we have these wrist bands we might as well use them". I decided I'd take initiative and attempt to get two more wrist bands. As I plonked my way up the bleachers, the 'personnel' smiled and politely asked how I was doing. I began to plead my case and when the man told me I had to walk all the way around the stadium and ask someone else, I got feisty. "Excuse me, do you think that it's good customer service to tell me, who purchased these seats and was kicked out of them to walk all the way around the stadium to 'ask' a question when you two are sitting right here with wrist bands on that clearly were supposed to be used for the compensation of those that were inconvenienced? Plus y'all don't even look old enough to get into the bar."
Needless to say, they weren't sure how to respond, so the eldest of the 'crew' took the lead and told me I was ungrateful, spoiled and inconsiderate and that I should just enjoy what I was given and walk away.
That lit my fire, but I had obviously hit a nerve.
I proceeded to let them know that they were a disgrace to the company they worked for and if they ever wanted to make their jobs worthwhile, to learn that the customer always comes first. I also made note that I'd be reporting them to their supervisors (like I would even remember their names). Then I turned, stomped down the bleachers and scampered off.
Why the heck did I even care so much, it's the damn X games ... "hi, i'm obnoxious"
Last weekend a few friends of mine thought it'd be a stellar idea to attend the X games. My friendly companion for the evening purchased our tickets on E-Bay. Everything seemed legit, until we got screwed out of our seats because the camera crew "needed more room". To make up for it they gave us wrist bands to the after party. When the games had finished and we gathered with our other friends, we thought "hey, as long as we have these wrist bands we might as well use them". I decided I'd take initiative and attempt to get two more wrist bands. As I plonked my way up the bleachers, the 'personnel' smiled and politely asked how I was doing. I began to plead my case and when the man told me I had to walk all the way around the stadium and ask someone else, I got feisty. "Excuse me, do you think that it's good customer service to tell me, who purchased these seats and was kicked out of them to walk all the way around the stadium to 'ask' a question when you two are sitting right here with wrist bands on that clearly were supposed to be used for the compensation of those that were inconvenienced? Plus y'all don't even look old enough to get into the bar."
Needless to say, they weren't sure how to respond, so the eldest of the 'crew' took the lead and told me I was ungrateful, spoiled and inconsiderate and that I should just enjoy what I was given and walk away.
That lit my fire, but I had obviously hit a nerve.
I proceeded to let them know that they were a disgrace to the company they worked for and if they ever wanted to make their jobs worthwhile, to learn that the customer always comes first. I also made note that I'd be reporting them to their supervisors (like I would even remember their names). Then I turned, stomped down the bleachers and scampered off.
Why the heck did I even care so much, it's the damn X games ... "hi, i'm obnoxious"
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
One for the Babysitting Resume
I have a lot of adventures in babysitting. My experiences probably have been the best birth control that I could have ever asked for and this one that I'm about to tell can go right up to the top of my list of most embarassing moments in my life.
I loved babysitting for this particular family. They had a little boy and a little girl. I normally sat for them on Friday or Saturday nights -- the kids would be in bed by 7:30 and the parents would be home by 10:30 (enough time for me to head out afterwards). Not a bad way to make a few bucks on the weekend.
Well, on this one particular night the kids hit the hay super early. So my boyfriend at the time was kind enough to bring me over some dinner (he used to grill some pretty awesome steaks). He kept calling me because he was having trouble finding the address, so I quietly slipped out the front door and stood on the porch so he'd have an easier time finding it. He finally pulled up and I was elated because my stomach was yelling at me. I turned to open the door to get back in the house and it wouldn't budge. I had conveniently locked myself out. No keys. No phone. No numbers.
I started freaking out. Both of the kids were inside asleep and alone. How terrible am I?! And true to his nature, my boyfriend wasn't much help. I rang the doorbell frantically, pressed the call button, had him call the house phone .. they were passed out and there was no chance of them waking up. There was no hidden key, no unlocked window, it was absolutely robber proof. My next instinct was the neighbors.
I sprinted across the lawn and pounded on the door. As soon as she opened the door I burst into tears and she must have thought I was lost or something terrible had happened. She kindly ushered me into her home and calmed me down with a glass of water. We tried googling the venue or finding the parents phone numbers with absolutely no luck. Her next suggestion was calling the police department .. I hesitated. But in the end it was the only way.
So, I walked back over to the porch where my boyfriend stood, playing on his phone. I told him the fire department was coming and it made little difference to him (even though I was hyperventilating at this point). Soon enough not one cop car, but three and two fire trucks pulled up with lights and sirens on in front of the house .. all of that because I locked myself out in Highland Park .. shows how much they have going on. And what would the parents think if they came home early ..
They tried all the tactics that I did -- searching for an extra key, calling the house phone, looking for an open window .. they even climbed up onto the back balcony which is attached to the boys room and knocked on his window. Nope, there was no way that he was waking up. Thank goodness he didn't, the fireman would have scared him to death.
In the meantime my boyfriend was actually trying to impress the fire department with his manly abilities (ha!) and was trying to stick his arm through the front mailbox and unlock the thumblock on the doorknob. But unfortunately, his muscles were "too big" and he couldn't quite reach.
"Hey LHB, I can almost reach it .. but you know my arms are large sooo yours are a lot smaller, I bet you can make it!"
"Oh ya ya, that's a great idea, let's have the girl try."
Before I knew it, I was on my knees and they were shoving my arm through the cold, brass mailbox.
"A little further, a little further."
I actually got really into it because I was so close. I pushed my arm in a little further and further. My circulation stopped, but it was the only way I was going to get back into the house without breaking a window (and potentially paying for it).
OMGOODNESS!!!!!!!! CLICK!!! I GOT IT!!!
And with my arm in the mailbox I pushed the door open. I was so ecstatic that I forgot I was still on my knees and my arm was still in the door. Finally everyone's excitement subsided and I focused on retrieving my arm from the door.
No good. I was stuck. Bad.
And then they all laughed. Me, ME, ME!! I was the one that got the door unlocked and YOU, ALL OF YOU laugh at me?? They even contemplated leaving me there until the parents came home. That would have been a really fun explanation.
My boyfriend so kindly went and grabbed a stick of butter as they unscrewed the mailbox from the door, which even after doing so, was still stuck to my arm. They then buttered up my arm and made an effort on sliding off the brass contraption. The lower half of my arm was blue.
Finally it popped off and the entire fire department left. I iced my arm, which had a bruise ring around my upper bicep. And on top of it, my boyfriend left me .. sitting there in the hallway because he had to meet up with some friends. Eventually the parents came home and were not at all concerned that I had ice on my arm .. wouldn't you be curious as to why the babysitter has an injury?? I shamefully told them what happened .. What a terrible babysitter I was and that I was so so sorry.
They laughed, offered me a glass of wine and the largest tip I've ever received.
I loved babysitting for this particular family. They had a little boy and a little girl. I normally sat for them on Friday or Saturday nights -- the kids would be in bed by 7:30 and the parents would be home by 10:30 (enough time for me to head out afterwards). Not a bad way to make a few bucks on the weekend.
Well, on this one particular night the kids hit the hay super early. So my boyfriend at the time was kind enough to bring me over some dinner (he used to grill some pretty awesome steaks). He kept calling me because he was having trouble finding the address, so I quietly slipped out the front door and stood on the porch so he'd have an easier time finding it. He finally pulled up and I was elated because my stomach was yelling at me. I turned to open the door to get back in the house and it wouldn't budge. I had conveniently locked myself out. No keys. No phone. No numbers.
I started freaking out. Both of the kids were inside asleep and alone. How terrible am I?! And true to his nature, my boyfriend wasn't much help. I rang the doorbell frantically, pressed the call button, had him call the house phone .. they were passed out and there was no chance of them waking up. There was no hidden key, no unlocked window, it was absolutely robber proof. My next instinct was the neighbors.
I sprinted across the lawn and pounded on the door. As soon as she opened the door I burst into tears and she must have thought I was lost or something terrible had happened. She kindly ushered me into her home and calmed me down with a glass of water. We tried googling the venue or finding the parents phone numbers with absolutely no luck. Her next suggestion was calling the police department .. I hesitated. But in the end it was the only way.
So, I walked back over to the porch where my boyfriend stood, playing on his phone. I told him the fire department was coming and it made little difference to him (even though I was hyperventilating at this point). Soon enough not one cop car, but three and two fire trucks pulled up with lights and sirens on in front of the house .. all of that because I locked myself out in Highland Park .. shows how much they have going on. And what would the parents think if they came home early ..
They tried all the tactics that I did -- searching for an extra key, calling the house phone, looking for an open window .. they even climbed up onto the back balcony which is attached to the boys room and knocked on his window. Nope, there was no way that he was waking up. Thank goodness he didn't, the fireman would have scared him to death.
In the meantime my boyfriend was actually trying to impress the fire department with his manly abilities (ha!) and was trying to stick his arm through the front mailbox and unlock the thumblock on the doorknob. But unfortunately, his muscles were "too big" and he couldn't quite reach.
"Hey LHB, I can almost reach it .. but you know my arms are large sooo yours are a lot smaller, I bet you can make it!"
"Oh ya ya, that's a great idea, let's have the girl try."
Before I knew it, I was on my knees and they were shoving my arm through the cold, brass mailbox.
"A little further, a little further."
I actually got really into it because I was so close. I pushed my arm in a little further and further. My circulation stopped, but it was the only way I was going to get back into the house without breaking a window (and potentially paying for it).
OMGOODNESS!!!!!!!! CLICK!!! I GOT IT!!!
And with my arm in the mailbox I pushed the door open. I was so ecstatic that I forgot I was still on my knees and my arm was still in the door. Finally everyone's excitement subsided and I focused on retrieving my arm from the door.
No good. I was stuck. Bad.
And then they all laughed. Me, ME, ME!! I was the one that got the door unlocked and YOU, ALL OF YOU laugh at me?? They even contemplated leaving me there until the parents came home. That would have been a really fun explanation.
My boyfriend so kindly went and grabbed a stick of butter as they unscrewed the mailbox from the door, which even after doing so, was still stuck to my arm. They then buttered up my arm and made an effort on sliding off the brass contraption. The lower half of my arm was blue.
Finally it popped off and the entire fire department left. I iced my arm, which had a bruise ring around my upper bicep. And on top of it, my boyfriend left me .. sitting there in the hallway because he had to meet up with some friends. Eventually the parents came home and were not at all concerned that I had ice on my arm .. wouldn't you be curious as to why the babysitter has an injury?? I shamefully told them what happened .. What a terrible babysitter I was and that I was so so sorry.
They laughed, offered me a glass of wine and the largest tip I've ever received.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Wedding Day Bloopers.
I consider myself lucky enough to have witnessed many friends vow their love to each other on their wedding day. It's a beautiful moment in life to see that (hopefully) happy couple take a monumental step in not only their relationship, but in their individual lives.
And then comes the reception. No offense, but it's probably the most anticipated part of the whole event. Drinking, dancing, meeting that cute single girl/guy (for me!) .. And there's always that one family member that's had one too many drinks, one friend that shouldn't have busted that move on the dance floor, awkward hook ups between bridesmaids and groomsmen and then there's me. And the bouquet toss.
The whole day was a mess of nerves for me. It felt like I was getting ready for prom. Seriously. It was the first time my ex and I had broken up and I knew that he'd be in attendance for our mutual friends wedding. I tanned, got my hair done, spent a little extra time putting on my makeup .. the whole deal. This was it, this was my opportunity to show him what he was missing and my first part of the plan totally worked. After the ceremony he approached me to tell me how "wowed" he was by my 'beauty'. Awesome, ceremony down. Now all I had to do was make it through the reception without letting his presence bother me, easy feat right?
Open bar = big problem. Who can say no to a glass of champagne or maybe even say, 4? Plus you just absolutely have to mix in some vodka sprites. I was holding my ground - a little laugh here, a little smile across the room and twirl around with champagne glass in hand (oh god LHB I hope you ate something), clap politely after speeches and "Oh, I'm sorry I'm flirting with the groomsman sitting next to me on my right while you shove your mouth full on your left" .. And then he told me he was leaving.
Is there a better phrase than "beer tears"? How could he leave me in all my glory on this day that wasn't even mine to go hang out with his 'buddies'. I was completely beside myself and angry that I had lost my cool. So, he defiantly walked out of the country club and left me standing alone in the lobby, tears streaming down my face. I had to pull it together (bathroom). As soon as I walked out of the bathroom it was announced that the bride would be tossing her bouquet. What a perfect distraction.
My roommate was already on the dance floor, in the front of the massive flock of single ladies and I dashed up to be a part of the action. The bride smiled, turned, did a little wiggle and threw that bouquet up, up aaaand here I go ...
All I could think was "catch it, catch it .. it's just like football - take it down - reach - grab it - don't let go - better, faster, stronger". Well, I guess my roommate was thinking the same thing. She locked her hands around the stem just as I did and before we even really could understand was happening (I thought I was T.O. and caught the hail mary touchdown pass from Romo), hit the floor and were down for the count. Little did I know that not only did everyone get a show of me mauling my roommate for a stupid bouquet, but my backside was fully exposed as I laid laughing in the middle of the dance floor. In front of all the guests. That included grandmas.
I blame my exertion of aggression on my ex. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have felt the need to compete, win and conquer or let my behind become the butt of jokes for the next month - "So, is LHB going to show you her a** tonight, eh?". And the photographer wouldn't have pictures of us jumping in the air 291, 292, oh whoops skipping 293 & 294 because those are inappropriate (just imagine the frontal view), now they're on the floor 295 & 296.
Not to mention the videographer ...
And then comes the reception. No offense, but it's probably the most anticipated part of the whole event. Drinking, dancing, meeting that cute single girl/guy (for me!) .. And there's always that one family member that's had one too many drinks, one friend that shouldn't have busted that move on the dance floor, awkward hook ups between bridesmaids and groomsmen and then there's me. And the bouquet toss.
The whole day was a mess of nerves for me. It felt like I was getting ready for prom. Seriously. It was the first time my ex and I had broken up and I knew that he'd be in attendance for our mutual friends wedding. I tanned, got my hair done, spent a little extra time putting on my makeup .. the whole deal. This was it, this was my opportunity to show him what he was missing and my first part of the plan totally worked. After the ceremony he approached me to tell me how "wowed" he was by my 'beauty'. Awesome, ceremony down. Now all I had to do was make it through the reception without letting his presence bother me, easy feat right?
Open bar = big problem. Who can say no to a glass of champagne or maybe even say, 4? Plus you just absolutely have to mix in some vodka sprites. I was holding my ground - a little laugh here, a little smile across the room and twirl around with champagne glass in hand (oh god LHB I hope you ate something), clap politely after speeches and "Oh, I'm sorry I'm flirting with the groomsman sitting next to me on my right while you shove your mouth full on your left" .. And then he told me he was leaving.
Is there a better phrase than "beer tears"? How could he leave me in all my glory on this day that wasn't even mine to go hang out with his 'buddies'. I was completely beside myself and angry that I had lost my cool. So, he defiantly walked out of the country club and left me standing alone in the lobby, tears streaming down my face. I had to pull it together (bathroom). As soon as I walked out of the bathroom it was announced that the bride would be tossing her bouquet. What a perfect distraction.
My roommate was already on the dance floor, in the front of the massive flock of single ladies and I dashed up to be a part of the action. The bride smiled, turned, did a little wiggle and threw that bouquet up, up aaaand here I go ...
All I could think was "catch it, catch it .. it's just like football - take it down - reach - grab it - don't let go - better, faster, stronger". Well, I guess my roommate was thinking the same thing. She locked her hands around the stem just as I did and before we even really could understand was happening (I thought I was T.O. and caught the hail mary touchdown pass from Romo), hit the floor and were down for the count. Little did I know that not only did everyone get a show of me mauling my roommate for a stupid bouquet, but my backside was fully exposed as I laid laughing in the middle of the dance floor. In front of all the guests. That included grandmas.
I blame my exertion of aggression on my ex. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have felt the need to compete, win and conquer or let my behind become the butt of jokes for the next month - "So, is LHB going to show you her a** tonight, eh?". And the photographer wouldn't have pictures of us jumping in the air 291, 292, oh whoops skipping 293 & 294 because those are inappropriate (just imagine the frontal view), now they're on the floor 295 & 296.
Not to mention the videographer ...
Monday, February 9, 2009
Hot Man #2
Dear Diary,
I have a problem. I know that I've always had an affinity for nice things, pretty things, but everyone does right? Well, that's translated into my love life. I like pretty men .. hot men. I know, I know .. it's a serious issue. I've often been told, "LHB, maybe if you go for a more 'average' guy, then you won't get screwed over all the time .. maybe they won't end up being a (i'll be nice right here)jerk." And diary, that might be true, but what's the fun in being in lust or love if you don't enjoy what you're looking at too?? I mean, it's just an added bonus, right?
Although HM2 (hot man #2) may have ruined that theory for me, because I swear if I ever had to actually date him (i.e. hold a conversation, listen to him, be in the same room as him, touch him .. ugh), I think I'd rather get stung by a bee and I HATE bees.
But there he was, leaning on his crutches across the bar (yes, he was on crutches). He had a perfect jaw line, atheletic build, manly scruff, dressed well, bright eyes .. oh the works. And eventually (finally!) he started making eyes .. and after FOREVER, he crutched over. I think I melted on the spot.
Then he opened up his mouth and for the next two hours it did not shut. I can tell you how he broke his leg, the name of his high school, his weight in high school, college and now, where his parents live, his address now, how many ex gf's he has, what type of job he's looking for, how much he makes, where he's been scuba diving, that he's color blind and on and on and on. Oh, and he played football at UT - ha, we definitely weren't going to work out (I'm a USC fan) .. like I didn't know that after he talked about himself for over an hour.
"You know so much about me and I know so little about you .."
"Well, I graduated in ..."
"Oh, so I graduated in 1999 and walked onto the UT fb team and" (bla bla bla)
There's a reason why you're 32 and crutching around alone. On the contrary, he's SO nice to look at. That jaw line .. that body ..
The rest of the evening was pretty pointless. He proceeded to tell me he wanted to take me out (cause he knew me so well!). Little did he know that first dates are about getting to know each other and well, he already spilled his beans, so I opted for a "no fly zone". Although he's soooo cute. But then again, he's already shown me that he also has jealousy issues after I run into an old guy friend and we chat longer than just "hey, how are you?". Man, you can learn alot about someone in 2 hours.
So Diary, I think I've learned my lesson. Just because someone is nice to look at and makes me feel all giggly inside, doesn't mean that they're worth my time or I should date them. I mean, why the heck would I want to spend my precious time figuring out how to get a word in or better yet, what brand of toothbrush he prefers? I think I'll try to go for some good 'ole personality ..
But oh look! There's HM3!!
Whoopsies :)
I have a problem. I know that I've always had an affinity for nice things, pretty things, but everyone does right? Well, that's translated into my love life. I like pretty men .. hot men. I know, I know .. it's a serious issue. I've often been told, "LHB, maybe if you go for a more 'average' guy, then you won't get screwed over all the time .. maybe they won't end up being a (i'll be nice right here)jerk." And diary, that might be true, but what's the fun in being in lust or love if you don't enjoy what you're looking at too?? I mean, it's just an added bonus, right?
Although HM2 (hot man #2) may have ruined that theory for me, because I swear if I ever had to actually date him (i.e. hold a conversation, listen to him, be in the same room as him, touch him .. ugh), I think I'd rather get stung by a bee and I HATE bees.
But there he was, leaning on his crutches across the bar (yes, he was on crutches). He had a perfect jaw line, atheletic build, manly scruff, dressed well, bright eyes .. oh the works. And eventually (finally!) he started making eyes .. and after FOREVER, he crutched over. I think I melted on the spot.
Then he opened up his mouth and for the next two hours it did not shut. I can tell you how he broke his leg, the name of his high school, his weight in high school, college and now, where his parents live, his address now, how many ex gf's he has, what type of job he's looking for, how much he makes, where he's been scuba diving, that he's color blind and on and on and on. Oh, and he played football at UT - ha, we definitely weren't going to work out (I'm a USC fan) .. like I didn't know that after he talked about himself for over an hour.
"You know so much about me and I know so little about you .."
"Well, I graduated in ..."
"Oh, so I graduated in 1999 and walked onto the UT fb team and" (bla bla bla)
There's a reason why you're 32 and crutching around alone. On the contrary, he's SO nice to look at. That jaw line .. that body ..
The rest of the evening was pretty pointless. He proceeded to tell me he wanted to take me out (cause he knew me so well!). Little did he know that first dates are about getting to know each other and well, he already spilled his beans, so I opted for a "no fly zone". Although he's soooo cute. But then again, he's already shown me that he also has jealousy issues after I run into an old guy friend and we chat longer than just "hey, how are you?". Man, you can learn alot about someone in 2 hours.
So Diary, I think I've learned my lesson. Just because someone is nice to look at and makes me feel all giggly inside, doesn't mean that they're worth my time or I should date them. I mean, why the heck would I want to spend my precious time figuring out how to get a word in or better yet, what brand of toothbrush he prefers? I think I'll try to go for some good 'ole personality ..
But oh look! There's HM3!!
Whoopsies :)
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Most Likely To ..
One of the things that everyone looked forward to in 8th grade and senior year of high school was the yearbook. The yearbook that finally contained your classes "bests, mosts & most likely to's". The voting, the anticipation .. the drama.
My 8th grade year, we had a situation where a girl on the yearbook staff voted herself in to a position that she obviously did not deserve. It was funny that names were erased from the ballot and hers was written in. She threw such a hissy fit that the advisors cut down the categories to 10 and had us all re-vote. Way to ruin it for everyone. My two categories were thrown to the wind and I was allowed to take a "picture with friends". Somehow she convinced the advisors to allow her to share the "title" with the rightful "winner". It's odd how the advisors got nice christmas presents of tickets to the concerts that they wanted to go to .. compliments of "hissy fit" girl's radio mom.
I swore that senior year of highschool would be better. Except when it came time to do it, the rules changed on me. It was no longer up to the class .. the senior board had full and utter control of what categories were made and who was chosen. It was also no longer featured in the yearbook! The best part of our senior yearbook .. cut out. Instead they were going to present them at the senior breakfast.
As I settled into my seat at the breakfast, I tried to imagine what I could possible get: "Most likely to beat you in a debate .. Best sense of humor (ha) .. Most friendly ..", something that I could tell my children, "look what mommy was in high school!"
Soon the 'ceremony' started. Most likely to succeed (boring) .. Best smile (really? I thought her mouth was just big) .. Most likely to open a tanning salon (ha! so that's what they really think of you) .. Most outgoing (oh .. I thought I might have had a shot at that) .. Most likely to clear a room with a sneeze ........ LHB
Excuse me, what?
Most likely to clear a room with a sneeze?? That's what I'll be remembered for?? I don't think I even sneezed the entire time I went to school .. oh wait, wait a minute .. yaaaaa. There was that one time in AP english, ok maybe two times and then Physics, yah I had a few there. But they weren't that loud! Oh oh ohhh it's coming back to me. The teachers had to actually pause their lessons. Whoopsie.
So I guess it does all come full circle and bite us in the ass at some point. I got what I deserved. Since then, I've tried my best to control my sneezing and huffing and puffing to little "aa-choo's" instead of "aaaaa aaaaa AHHHHHH-CHOOOOOOO". Hey, some of us just take a little more time to learn things.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Cheating 101
It's always fun to find out that someone has been "unfaithful". Granted, my mother always told me ,"if you don't have a ring on your finger, then what's stopping you?" I hope that was meant for my fickle relationships and not something that seriously concerned matters of the heart (whether it be mine or someone elses).
Before I go into this, I will openly admit and take responsibility that I have been "unfaithful" in a relationship. I am not proud of it nor do I condone it, but I will say that his heart wasn't in it (there's a laundry list of why his actions spoke louder than his words) and if he had found out, it would have been an issue of "me being his property" rather than the heartbreak of emotional distrust. And In my defense, I have been in 2 other long-term relationships and never touched a soul.
What causes people to cheat? I wish there was one clear answer to that. It is potentially one of the most twisted and confusing emotional scenarios that we can experience (that is .. if you find out). Trust me, I've been there. But if you're going to (warning: SUPER dumb idea) here's my advice (this is how I found out):
1. Deny, Deny, Deny: If you know that you can't resist temptation, then don't ever admit that you've given in at some point during a relationship. But make sure that your friends don't have honesty issues and tell your significant other that you have a track record. LHB: 1 xBF's: 0
2. Research: Are you doing this just to 'get some' or are you looking for a 'medal' to add to your collection? Whatever the case may be, be aware that you'll want someone that's worth defending why you were so 'tempted' .. aka .. not someone part of the "woof gang" or has thrown herself/himself at everyone you know. LHB: 2 xBF's: 0
3. Define: Make sure you know the connections between your tempter/temptress and your significant other. Is there any chance that your secret 'lusty' partner could open her/his big mouth to mutual acquaintances? You'd be surprised how proud one can be. You need to make it clear that the whole point of "cheating" is for no one to find out. LHB: 3 xBF's: 0
4. Karma: It's a bitch. LHB: 4 xBF's: 0
As the victim you get blamed for their unhappiness and issues and somehow become the driving factor that forced them to cheat. You can only wish and hope that at some point they'll wake up and realize what a mess they've made of things in their life that could have been great; that maybe they've learned a lesson and want to have an honest, healthy relationship. But as I've learned, bad habits and patterns are hard to break and if they're unwilling to take responsibility for past 'mistakes' then how will they ever be able to make a change?
Big ideas and conversation about fulfilling love and relationships is one thing, but working and sticking with it is another.
Like I always say, "your actions speak louder than your words."
Before I go into this, I will openly admit and take responsibility that I have been "unfaithful" in a relationship. I am not proud of it nor do I condone it, but I will say that his heart wasn't in it (there's a laundry list of why his actions spoke louder than his words) and if he had found out, it would have been an issue of "me being his property" rather than the heartbreak of emotional distrust. And In my defense, I have been in 2 other long-term relationships and never touched a soul.
What causes people to cheat? I wish there was one clear answer to that. It is potentially one of the most twisted and confusing emotional scenarios that we can experience (that is .. if you find out). Trust me, I've been there. But if you're going to (warning: SUPER dumb idea) here's my advice (this is how I found out):
1. Deny, Deny, Deny: If you know that you can't resist temptation, then don't ever admit that you've given in at some point during a relationship. But make sure that your friends don't have honesty issues and tell your significant other that you have a track record. LHB: 1 xBF's: 0
2. Research: Are you doing this just to 'get some' or are you looking for a 'medal' to add to your collection? Whatever the case may be, be aware that you'll want someone that's worth defending why you were so 'tempted' .. aka .. not someone part of the "woof gang" or has thrown herself/himself at everyone you know. LHB: 2 xBF's: 0
3. Define: Make sure you know the connections between your tempter/temptress and your significant other. Is there any chance that your secret 'lusty' partner could open her/his big mouth to mutual acquaintances? You'd be surprised how proud one can be. You need to make it clear that the whole point of "cheating" is for no one to find out. LHB: 3 xBF's: 0
4. Karma: It's a bitch. LHB: 4 xBF's: 0
As the victim you get blamed for their unhappiness and issues and somehow become the driving factor that forced them to cheat. You can only wish and hope that at some point they'll wake up and realize what a mess they've made of things in their life that could have been great; that maybe they've learned a lesson and want to have an honest, healthy relationship. But as I've learned, bad habits and patterns are hard to break and if they're unwilling to take responsibility for past 'mistakes' then how will they ever be able to make a change?
Big ideas and conversation about fulfilling love and relationships is one thing, but working and sticking with it is another.
Like I always say, "your actions speak louder than your words."
Friday, January 9, 2009
Desperaux
I'm not sure about you, but I find that NYE (New Years Eve) tends to be an even more desperate holiday than Valentines Day. See, many people can argue that Valentines day was created by Hallmark in order to sell more cards throughout the year, so many people tend to disregard it or use it as a day to celebrate their friendships rather than love interests. NYE on the other hand is something we can't ignore or manipulate - "Sorry, what? It's January 2009? Noooo .. It's still December 1995."
While there's a ton of pressure on "males" (boys, men, gentlemen, dbags .. yes pretty much all of them) to perform on Valentine's Day, it is the tradition that comes with NYE that puts pressure on EVERYONE. The New Year kiss ..
When I think back over my New Year celebrations, the common goal for most of my friends (high school, college, the after life ...) was to find someone for midnight (I'm not saying that I never had that same goal .. trust me, I did). But that goal wasn't satisfied with just a peck ("a kiss"). The underlying meaning of that goal was to have a make-out session .. hook-up .. the rush of being with someone while ringing in the new year. You're considered lucky if you're attached. There are no worries for you - you're guaranteed that thrill.
Since I wasn't attached to anyone this NYE, I started to find myself saying things like "I won't have a new years kiss" or "I'm going to have to hire someone to be my date for the evening". I also worried about what he would be doing. Was he going to have a NYE kiss? Would it be someone he knew or a complete stranger? Would he do more than just something at midnight? I stressed myself out and started to make it a competition in my head. Must . Have . New . Years . Kiss ... otherwise I miss out on "tradition" and lose.
But the more I thought about it, the more I came to realize that if there's one thing at all I can be proud to say is that 'I'm not desperate'. If it doesn't happen, well, then it doesn't happen. There is no need for me to 1. make it a competition 2. make myself think that in some way I'm rising to the occasion by throwing myself at someone that I most likely don't have any interest in and 3. what if it was just absolutely terrible? Sure, being single has its benefits (making mistakes, no "responsibility", trying on someone new for a change, etc.), but being single doesn't mean making yourself do something that won't make you proud, happy or feel good because your desperation took over. Plus, no offense, I wasn't about to kiss any of those boys in the bar anyways.
So, as we counted down to midnight (with me standing on a chair), I looked around at everyone - some are attached, some have found new mates, others are pumping their fists and yelling with me and very few are alone. At that moment, internally, I hugged myself because I knew I didn't need a kiss from some boy/dude/guy/man on NYE to validate whether or not my new year was going to be robust, wonderful and fun. Sure, I missed him and he was probably making out with "something" and it made my heart twinge a little bit, but I wasn't about to cry at the fact that I was 'alone' because in reality I wasn't. Here I was on a chair, with my friends that I have been more than lucky to meet and I knew that I could man-up and tell myself it was going to be a good one no matter what. I stepped down from the chair and pecked a good gf, who probably lived up to be the best new years kiss ever .. no regrets & no drama.
It's about being with the people you care about & drinking lots of champagne :)
While there's a ton of pressure on "males" (boys, men, gentlemen, dbags .. yes pretty much all of them) to perform on Valentine's Day, it is the tradition that comes with NYE that puts pressure on EVERYONE. The New Year kiss ..
When I think back over my New Year celebrations, the common goal for most of my friends (high school, college, the after life ...) was to find someone for midnight (I'm not saying that I never had that same goal .. trust me, I did). But that goal wasn't satisfied with just a peck ("a kiss"). The underlying meaning of that goal was to have a make-out session .. hook-up .. the rush of being with someone while ringing in the new year. You're considered lucky if you're attached. There are no worries for you - you're guaranteed that thrill.
Since I wasn't attached to anyone this NYE, I started to find myself saying things like "I won't have a new years kiss" or "I'm going to have to hire someone to be my date for the evening". I also worried about what he would be doing. Was he going to have a NYE kiss? Would it be someone he knew or a complete stranger? Would he do more than just something at midnight? I stressed myself out and started to make it a competition in my head. Must . Have . New . Years . Kiss ... otherwise I miss out on "tradition" and lose.
But the more I thought about it, the more I came to realize that if there's one thing at all I can be proud to say is that 'I'm not desperate'. If it doesn't happen, well, then it doesn't happen. There is no need for me to 1. make it a competition 2. make myself think that in some way I'm rising to the occasion by throwing myself at someone that I most likely don't have any interest in and 3. what if it was just absolutely terrible? Sure, being single has its benefits (making mistakes, no "responsibility", trying on someone new for a change, etc.), but being single doesn't mean making yourself do something that won't make you proud, happy or feel good because your desperation took over. Plus, no offense, I wasn't about to kiss any of those boys in the bar anyways.
So, as we counted down to midnight (with me standing on a chair), I looked around at everyone - some are attached, some have found new mates, others are pumping their fists and yelling with me and very few are alone. At that moment, internally, I hugged myself because I knew I didn't need a kiss from some boy/dude/guy/man on NYE to validate whether or not my new year was going to be robust, wonderful and fun. Sure, I missed him and he was probably making out with "something" and it made my heart twinge a little bit, but I wasn't about to cry at the fact that I was 'alone' because in reality I wasn't. Here I was on a chair, with my friends that I have been more than lucky to meet and I knew that I could man-up and tell myself it was going to be a good one no matter what. I stepped down from the chair and pecked a good gf, who probably lived up to be the best new years kiss ever .. no regrets & no drama.
It's about being with the people you care about & drinking lots of champagne :)
Monday, January 5, 2009
Aura
Or maybe it should be called "Glittah" because I think there are sparkles in the paint on the outside of the building. Yup, there definitely is.
That should be the first indicator of what you're about to walk in to.
The first time I ventured to Aura, I tagged along with my girlfriend to her fiancee's friends bday party. I was kind of excited to meet his friends and potentially some cute boys, but was instantly let down when I knew they spent more time getting ready than I did.
We finally made it through the glittery walls after a short trip through the 'backwoods' of Uptown. I immediately noticed that 1. I forgot that the dress code was just my santa lingerie 2. I might need to renew my tanning membership and 3. if I were a boy, I'd need to find a seriously good waxer because shaving my face just wasn't good enough anymore. I meekly looked down at my 'winter' skin and fully buttoned silk forever 21 top (I was feeling cute that night too!) and realized I didn't seem to make the cut with this 'elite' Dallas crowd. And normally, for those of you who don't know, I have no problem storming the dance floor, but there was no way I could compete with 'wanna-be' brunette Britney sloshing her wine glass all over her jersey knit dress and girlfriend's sweat-matted hair. Instead I cautiously bee-bopped in our little circle and was only jostled when a "young lady" in a very fitted red dress thought it appropriate to slap my behind not once but several times and yell, "you like that girl!" Needless to say, I was not going back to Aura any time soon and we moseyed on over to Knox St. Pub.
But there I was again at this glittery, uptown, dance-poppin', douche bag crawling, small dress wearing club, guiltily standing at the glowing bar with my girls on both sides, ordering a cherry vodka and soda from the overly large bartender. What I felt even guiltier about was that our names had been on a list to get past the 10 people that actually were standing in line to get in. Which really meant that barely anyone was there; therefore there was no one to compete with on the dance floor. It was soon ours and stayed ours for the entire time we shook our business. It didn't matter what whoo-whoo's and dbags sauntered and creeped around, because none of them could even keep up with the 8 booty poppin' girls and wouldn't dare try. The next day I had muscles that were only sore after a great night of dancing.
So here's my lesson learned: if you're gonna hit the "clubs" .. go with your girls, get there early, forget the dbags, ignore the staring whoo whoo's, shake it like it's no one's business and drink like there's no tomorrow. It doesn't matter where you go - sticking to those fundamentals can make any place fun!
Thanks for a great weekend ladies!
That should be the first indicator of what you're about to walk in to.
The first time I ventured to Aura, I tagged along with my girlfriend to her fiancee's friends bday party. I was kind of excited to meet his friends and potentially some cute boys, but was instantly let down when I knew they spent more time getting ready than I did.
We finally made it through the glittery walls after a short trip through the 'backwoods' of Uptown. I immediately noticed that 1. I forgot that the dress code was just my santa lingerie 2. I might need to renew my tanning membership and 3. if I were a boy, I'd need to find a seriously good waxer because shaving my face just wasn't good enough anymore. I meekly looked down at my 'winter' skin and fully buttoned silk forever 21 top (I was feeling cute that night too!) and realized I didn't seem to make the cut with this 'elite' Dallas crowd. And normally, for those of you who don't know, I have no problem storming the dance floor, but there was no way I could compete with 'wanna-be' brunette Britney sloshing her wine glass all over her jersey knit dress and girlfriend's sweat-matted hair. Instead I cautiously bee-bopped in our little circle and was only jostled when a "young lady" in a very fitted red dress thought it appropriate to slap my behind not once but several times and yell, "you like that girl!" Needless to say, I was not going back to Aura any time soon and we moseyed on over to Knox St. Pub.
But there I was again at this glittery, uptown, dance-poppin', douche bag crawling, small dress wearing club, guiltily standing at the glowing bar with my girls on both sides, ordering a cherry vodka and soda from the overly large bartender. What I felt even guiltier about was that our names had been on a list to get past the 10 people that actually were standing in line to get in. Which really meant that barely anyone was there; therefore there was no one to compete with on the dance floor. It was soon ours and stayed ours for the entire time we shook our business. It didn't matter what whoo-whoo's and dbags sauntered and creeped around, because none of them could even keep up with the 8 booty poppin' girls and wouldn't dare try. The next day I had muscles that were only sore after a great night of dancing.
So here's my lesson learned: if you're gonna hit the "clubs" .. go with your girls, get there early, forget the dbags, ignore the staring whoo whoo's, shake it like it's no one's business and drink like there's no tomorrow. It doesn't matter where you go - sticking to those fundamentals can make any place fun!
Thanks for a great weekend ladies!
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