Friday, February 28, 2014

The Pit & The Peak 2/28/2014

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The Pit & The Peak means it's Friday.  Guess I have to actually stop and think about my week now.  Uffda. 

PITS
- Last night, I had a friend coming for dinner.  I had purchased a pot roast on Sunday and it seemed like a great opportunity to have her over and have a meal and some chill out time.  I got up early yesterday and prepared it, turn on the slow cooker and left for work.  When I got home, I opened the door expecting the delicious smell of pot roast...didn't happen.  Apparently, the cooker is a pile of shit.  The roast didn't happen.  I've very bitter about losing the money. 

- We had a few nice days...then it got wicked cold.  Totally upsetting and completely unnecessary.  I'm tired of being freezing frickin cold. 

- I paid some bills today.  Not many, but some.  Paying those bills...resulted in me having little to no money for the next 7 days.  Awesome.  I hate paying bills. 

- I'm super stressed.

PEAKS
- I got to have dinner with a friend and watch a movie.  That's always nice.  And having her over didn't send me into my normal "There's someone in my house" panic.  Very unusual but super awesome. 

- I went to Hot Yoga last Saturday and hurt for 4 days.  It felt good.  But I'm hesitant to go back.  I hope I get over myself. 

- I got to talk to Bonehead a few times, which is good because I NEEDED the mood lift. 

- Taxes are done.  Which is a good thing. 

Monday, February 24, 2014

The Liebster Award

I was nominated for the Liebster Award!

Really and truly, I'm not sure what that means.  Like...I googled it.  Seriously.  The answer?  It's like...the bloggers equivalent to a chain letter, according to some.  It's also a really great way to share blogs you like that might not have a huge following.  But...at the same time I have to say, knowing someone felt like putting my name out there and admitted to reading me never stops being a good feeling.  So I'm going to do this!

So, special thanks to Jackie at Indecisively Blogging for the nomination and thanks to everyone who shows up here every week to hang out with me.

Being nominated means there are some things I have to do....so let's get this started!


Liebster Award Rules 

-State 11 facts about yourself
-Answer 11 questions given to you by the person who nominated you
-Nominate 11 new bloggers and set 11 questions for them to answer.  Oh, and these bloggers are supposed to be new bloggers or bloggers with less than 200 followers.
-Include the Liebster Award logo in your post and/or the side bar.




You want to know 11 facts about me? Seriously?

11.)  I'm 27, single, and a childless wonder.

10.)  I'm incredibly lucky to be part of a family and culture that doesn't push women to get married and make babies immediately.  All I can think of it "My Big Fat Greek Wedding".  I don't know many Greek people, but if that's what it is really like...I'd be so screwed.

Also, I have the major hots for John Corbett.  

9.)  I LOVE to cook and bake, but haven't been doing much of it because being single means eating it and doing the dishes alone.

8.)  I'm not the best swimmer

7.)  7 is one of my lucky numbers, which is interesting because I think I have a touch of OCD and odd numbers bother me.

6.)  I wasn't joking about OCD and odd numbers.  Things like Skittles...I have to eat them in even numbers in the same color, or even numbers with odd numbers of colors (like 3 green, and 3 purple).  Also, I stopped eating Skittles when they changed the green ones from Lime to Green Apple.  You can't mix the green apple with any of the other flavors like when you could have lemon/lime, or cherry/lime.  Seriously, Wrigley/Mars Corp....fix that shit.

5.)  If you read my About section, or my post You'll Never Be As Young As You Are Today you know that I believe in trying everything once.  I REALLY do believe that.  I strive to find and see and do something I've never done, seen, tasted or experienced before.

4.)  When I was like, 9, Ernest Scared Stupid scared the crap out of me.  Even as an adult, I have a fear of what might be next to me in bed when I roll over after looking underneath it.



3.)  I believe in Gray areas.  What I mean by that is, even when I've decided my stance on something I will still consider someone else's opinion and even though I may disagree in general I am still totally willing to accept special circumstances.

2.)  I don't know if I'm a night owl or an insomniac, but I'm not awesome at that going to bed thing.

1.)  If I say no to Chocolate, check me for a fever.

Jackie asked me the following questions:

1.  What is your most embarrassing moment?  Geez.  I don't know.  I've had quiet a few, but I'm honestly trying to reach a point where I'm able to either laugh or learn about my life experiences and somehow I find that when there is a point...it lessens the hurt, pain, or embarrassment in a situation for me.  Though I have to admit, I'm still struggling with the fact that I wrote that post on Alli and it is my most popular post to date.

2.  If you had to have the same thing for dinner every night for the rest of your life, what would you want that dinner to be? Lasagna.  Not only because I love it, but because there are so many types of lasagna.  (Is that cheating?)

3.  If you could invite one celebrity over for dinner, who would that be?  Why?  Kevin Smith.  So I can seduce him.  And I would not fail.

4.  What is your favorite movie? I don't have ONE favorite movie.  Some of my favorites include: Dogma, The Craft, Jane Austen's Mafia, Practical Magic, Hokus Pokus...and a few others.

5.  What are your top 3 guilty pleasures? Expensive sweets (I eat sweets and sugar ALL the time, but I rarely spend good money on it).  Bad TV.  Products...hair products, makeup, cleaning products...I'm a junkie.

6.  What is the most embarrassing song on your iPod?  I don't have an Ipod.  Sad day.  I'm a disappointment to my generation.

7.  If your life had a theme song, what would it be?  My life deserves a boxed set.  But right now...I'm really loving Alanis Morissete "Incomplete" because that is how I feel.

8.  If you had the chance to be a contestant on a game show, which game show would you pick? Family Feud.  We'd win for sure.

9.  What is your favorite ice cream flavor?  I don't meet much ice cream that I say no to. But this week...Haagen Daz Salted Caramel Gelato

10.  What is your favorite book? I really and truly do not have one.

11.  What websites do you visit most frequently? Facebook, my email, PostSecret.com, Craigslist


I nominate the following 11 bloggers:
(No ranking...they're just who I thought of!)

1.  Climaxed - Jenniy shows up for my Sunday Confessions EVERY WEEK and rocks it out.  One of the best, most honest blogs out there.  I adore her.
2.  Sparkly Poetic Weird. - Jenn is awesome and I love her insights.
3.  Zen Princess: Rulers over Controlled Chaos - We know her as The Snarky Hippie on Facebook.  There is strength and love in this woman.
4.  FBX Adventures in Parenting - Alaska.  Moose Stories.  She's awesome.
5.  Mama G's Blog - Sunday Confessor.  Currently hosting "Mental Health Mondays" on her blog - which I'm very excited about.
6.  Tracy on the Rocks - I adore me some Tracy.  Seriously.  She is amazing and truly one of my favorites.
7.  Juicebox Confession - Michelle is the Bee's Knees.  She's a great blogger, and a good friend.  I'm proud to know her.
8.  Mommy Needs Wine, Not Whine - I love listening to her laugh at goats.  She's amazing and talented.  Check her out. 
9.  Still Smihlen - When she writes, it's awesome.
10. Words Of A Poet - She's a poet and an author.
11.  Zachrocks - It's a different kind of blog...it's a drawn out life.  Love it.

I chose these people because I interact with them regularly, and I enjoy their content.  And I was trying to follow the rules about subscribers and some were easier to locate than others.


Questions for the 11 bloggers I picked:

1.  If you could turn back time (go ahead and sing Cher for a minute), would you still start blogging?
2.  Honesty time: what DON'T you love about blogging?
3.  Favorite blog post you ever wrote?
4.  Movies: in the theatre or at home and why?
5.  If you could be anyone or anything (tree, rock, millionaire) else in the world, what would you be?
6.  What do you like the most about yourself?
7.  If your life had a theme song, what would it be?
8.  What is your biggest pet peeve?
9.  Is bacon really all it's cracked up to be?
10.  Who are you stalking on Facebook?
11.  What is your guilty internet pleasure?

I tried to keep it interesting.  So hopefully you'll have some fun answers out there.

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Sunday Confessions: Bringing Sexy Back

MoreThanCheeseandBeer

Today's Sunday Confession prompt:
Bringing Sexy Back

Interesting topic...considering I never really had sexy.  Wait...scratch that.  I had sexy once but I didn't really even know I had it.  There are people who will tell you I still have it, but to be honest with you...I don't see it.  Which brings me to the question...what is sexy?

I think everyone has this idea of what sexy is supposed to be...lingerie, makeup, hair, and whatever else.  But...I can't help but think there has got to be more to it than that and I say that as someone who has felt sexy when she considered herself unsexy.  

I've been chronically unsexy for awhile now.  My ex didn't make me feel sexy in the last year we were together.  Now I'm single and wondering what the benefits of feeling sexy are when I don't really have a need to.  But then I wonder if it isn't important to feel sexy sometimes. 

Here's what I do know:

When I take care of myself, I feel sexy.  And I don't mean that in a gym rat kind of way.  I mean...I feel better when I do things like shave my legs, get a haircut, or moisturize.  I've felt sexy rocking a ponytail.  I just know that sometimes making a small change or doing just a little bit more (like putting on some pretty lip gloss) can make a huge difference.

 Sometimes...I find that a little something new helps me feel good.  A new scent, a new eyeshadow, a new lipgloss...hell, I enjoy new sock day.  There's always this emphasis on lingerie.  Ugh.  Isn't lingerie tired?  Sometimes, I feel sexy just putting on a thong (I don't wear them all the time anymore...I just feel too old for that shit these days).  But...sometimes something like new pajamas that are super soft or extra silky is nice, especially if you keep the matching pieces together.

Men are strange creatures.  Seriously.  I say this because I've had moments at my most unsexy where some man has still been interested.  I once had the world's nastiest head cold (it later turned into pneumonia).  I couldn't breathe.  I was hacking and wheezing.  I was blowing snot everywhere.  I didn't bother brushing my hair because I kept getting in the hot shower to breathe in the steam.  I hadn't showered in a day...and I definitely hadn't brushed my teeth.  And yet, the boyfriend-that-was was STILL interested.  Like...would not leave me alone interested.  I know some men out there really care about the theatrics, but when you get down to the sexual nitty gritty...I really don't think they give a shit what you look like when you're offering a blow job.  Sometimes, remembering this helps because I know that just about anything I do...there's a man out there who thinks it's hot. 

I think personal time is important.  I think if there is anything my last relationship taught me, it's that there is a difference between intimacy and not giving a shit.  My ex...didn't give a shit.  I think a part of intimacy is being comfortable around each other, seeing parts of the other person you the general public doesn't get to see.  But I think there needs to be a line.  For example, my ex didn't think twice about coming in and using the bathroom when I was doing my hair.  I'm used to things like that...I grew up in a house of women, just about anyone can pee in front of me and I wont care.  But to have a grown man come in, drop trow, pop a squat and ask for a kiss while pooping?  I was offended by the pooping part alone.  And while farts are a natural thing...to have someone wave them at you all the time is just disgusting.  I know I didn't feel good when I couldn't even wash myself without someone coming in and staring at me.  

I rarely, RARELY talk about the benefits of working out.  I just don't do the working out thing.  But I do know that when I go to Hot Yoga once a week, a feel really good about telling people I'm going to yoga or I do yoga.  That feels good.  I think people who don't do the gym thing should try and find something to say they do...the pride feels good.  

I'm a flirt.  I'm not against a little bit of flirting because I believe it is good for you.  And I know that it feel NICE when people want to flirt with you because it is a boost to the esteem.  So...I think people should flirt.  Appropriately, of course.  Keep it to words and compliments, no touching and don't go over the top.  

Also...I've found that when you compliment someone and it makes them feel good, they'll want to return the favor.  So...tell people when they look good.  Tell people when you notice something about their appearance.  This opens a dialogue, they'll be looking at you now...and they'll be telling you when you look good.  It's a give thing....give someone a compliment and they'll feel good, pass it on, and be more willing to give you one.

Get physical...solo.  I totally just went there.  I really and truly believe that pushing your own buttons sometimes is healthy.  Being in your own head, with your own thoughts/fantasies, being intimate with yourself, knowing your body, appreciating your body...have you ever considered what an awesome, amazing thing an orgasm is?  And the best part...you can get yourself to that point!  Like...people take it for granted.  Plus...if things are slow with the significant other, sometimes getting things moving helps.

The truth is....I think sexy is a feeling not a hard-bodied, lingerie wearing thing.  I think we should all strive to be sexier.  Do things that make us feel pampered, even if it is just new socks.  Say good things to each other.  Keep the not so awesome things just a little more private.  Do something for ourselves.  Give ourselves something to brag about that is more physical.  Appreciate your own body and it's ability to do amazing things.  I'm trying to get my sexy back, we all should be. 



Friday, February 21, 2014

The Pit & The Peak 02/21/2014

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Yay....it's time for The Pit & The Peak!  I think I missed last week with everything I had going on but I'm so glad to be here!  

PITS
- There's unfortunately been a lot of hurt people in my life this week.  Hurt loved ones, hurt friends...I hate when people I love are feeling hurt about something going on in their lives.  Unfortunately, their hurts have also caused me to look at others differently. 

- I ordered something online and it turned up in terrible condition.  I'm very unhappy and while the company has so far been very good about talking about returns, I still hate it when something doesn't arrive PERFECTLY.  

- As a result of last week, when I had the bright idea to take two stainless steel needles to the face for Valentine's Day...my damn face still hurts.  There's nothing wrong with it, everything looks normal.  I'm just a humongous baby. 

- My name got dragged into an ugly situation I had nothing to do with, and people spoke ugly things about me.  I hate that.  I try really hard to be an awesome person, but I am well aware that I'm not perfect and sometimes I outright suck.  But I honestly wish that instead of making things up about me, or saying things that aren't true...they at least say something shitty about me that is a fact.  I mean, I have a whole list of "not awesome" things about myself....I can't for the life of me figure out why people would make something up about me when I have a whole list of "truths".


PEAKS
- I've spent my week being blessed by people who love me.  I'm very fortunate to have that. 

- I got Love Letters.  There were love letters this week that just took a little too long in the mail.  I don't care how old I get, receiving a love letter is a special thing and when you know it comes from a place of genuine love it lights up parts of you that you thought were going to be dark for a long time.

- Things in my life have been looking up in general.  I don't want to get too deep into the specifics, but I'm hoping my life is starting to look up.  

- The people in my life who have been hurt or are hurting this week...genuinely thanked me for being there.  I don't even NEED a thank you for trying to be there for someone I care about...but it damn sure feels good to hear it. 

- I had been saving up Birchbox points (READ Things I Love for Birchbox Details) for a perfume that I received a sample of a few months ago.  But last week I got a new sample for a perfume that I IMMEDIATELY fell in love with (the last one more or less grew on me).  Not only was it a better price than the one I was eyeballing, but I had enough points saved up plus I got a coupon for 20% off AND it was free shipping and that allowed me to get the perfume I was for $4.  I paid less than 10% of the listed price for this wonderful perfume.  I can't wait for it to show up.  

- I get to go to Hot Yoga this week.  I'm hoping I stay motivated enough to go. 

Five Minute Friday: Small

Five Minute Friday

Small.  Funny thing about the word small.  I've felt small lately.  Not in a physical sense.  In that department I feel larger than ever, but in just about every other way...I feel small.

I feel small because I've been on the receiving end of numerous kindnesses and great love from those I hold near and dear to me, and those I'm coming to love.  I don't know why, but when people choose to bless me, it doesn't make me feel good.  No matter how grateful or how thankful I am and no matter what I do to express that, it makes me feel small and not in a good way. 

I feel small because I've been striving to be a better person and this week I feel like I'm failing to have the answers to the problems in my life and the answers that will help others that make me feel like the person I'm trying to be.  At the beginning of this year I said I was going to walk a different path, one that I'm meant to be walking and instead I find myself walking a path that, while is more centered on who I am inside, is less who I think I want to be. 

I feel small because in a lot of ways, I feel helpless.  There are loved ones in my life right now that are going through challenges that I don't know how to help them with and while I want to carry them through it, make it all better for them, make it all ok...I know that I can't.  It makes me feel like a small, helpless child and I hate it.  I want to reach out and get them help.  I want to do it for them.  I want to stand up and be a champion for the people I care about who can't do it for themselves right now, but I can't because it isn't my fight. 

I hate feeling small.  I hate feeling like I'm not in control.  Granted, I'm NOT in control and perhaps that is why I keep feeling the way that I am.  Perhaps I keep feeling small because I keep trying to rationalize and "understand" my blessings instead of accepting and being grateful.  Perhaps I keep feeling small because I'm still learning to trust in the knowledge that everything works out sooner or later.  Perhaps I'm feeling small because I want to be a champion for someone, and I want to fight for them but inside I know that they need to find their own peace and their own strength or they will forever fall prey to the same thing.  

I feel small.  I hate it. 





Sunday, February 16, 2014

Dear X Love

Welcome to another Sunday Confessions!  I hope everyone is having a great weekend!  If you choose to link up this week, please remember to link to me or snag the snazzy "Dear X Love" button into your blog!

MoreThanCheeseandBeer

Today's Sunday Confession prompt:
Dear X Love



Dear X Love,

When we got together, it was a fluke.  You loved me, supported me and adored me for years as my friend and I never thought you would hurt me.  In many ways, our relationship only seemed natural.

I loved you more than you will ever know and I never really got over our breakup.  I believed that everything that had happened in my life that had left internal scars had screwed me up so bad that I was unlovable.  I excused every hurtful thing you did with a criticism of myself because I believed that you were such a good person that there must have been something I was doing to make you act that way.  I believed that if you as someone who had loved me for so long couldn't love me for who I was and felt the need to treat me so poorly that I must have deserved it.

I had trouble letting you go after we broke up, a fact you were well aware of.   You took advantage of my love for you on many occasions, hurting me every time and I always forgave you because I could always find a way to blame myself, except for this last time.

When you came back into my life, I swore to myself that I wouldn't make the mistakes I made before and be all the things that drove you away.  I said I wouldn't fall hard and fast for you again and get burned for it.  In the end, it really didn't matter what I did.  Only this time I realize, I don’t think any of it was ever my fault.

What I’m trying to say is…Thank you for breaking my heart again in the utterly disgusting way that you did last time because it showed me (finally) that I am a person with flaws and you are a flawed person.  There is a difference.  I always believed that there was something wrong with me and that the things that had happened to me in my life made me unlovable and that was what drove you away.  I now realize that my scars are what make me a better person because I learned about things like acceptance, compassion, decency and empathy when I got them.  I strive to be a good person while you inherently believe yourself to be a good person as you intentionally scar others with your complete lack of compassion, decency, honor, integrity and class.

I've realized that you and I have never been on the same page in our development as people.  If we were books, not only would we be on opposite ends of the store, but we'd be at different reading levels.  But that’s ok.  I’m glad that we walked part of our journeys with each other.  In my own way, I'm glad I was finally able to say "Goodbye" to you.  In the past, I was never allowed to have any kind of closure because you never actually ended it...you just walked away like a coward.  It hurt, but something tells me that things are going to work out just fine now that I have a new outlook.

Thank you for the beautiful memories, and while I wish the lessons hadn't been so hard to learn there is a part of me that knows the ones that make you struggle are the most important.  I wish you bountiful harvests and hope you are blessed with all of the experiences you need to make you whole.


MoreThanCheeseandBeer
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Friday, February 14, 2014

Will you be my Pigeon?

I hate Valentine's Day.  I like to call it VD so I can say cute things like "I hate VD".  I know that is not a unique perspective or statement this time of year, and you're probably already tired of the negativity and the whining.  I won't lie, right now at this moment I'm not too thrilled with myself because I feel like just another single person who went through a breakup within the last 6 months writing yet another post about not liking Valentine's Day.




I remember in Elementary school when Valentine's Day was a classroom affair. I remember picking out my Valentines at the store and going home and folding them at the perforated lines and tearing them, separating them into piles and then painstakingly picking out who got what Valentine.  I always put extra thought into the ones that went to the boys I liked.  My parents (and by that I mean my mom), used to do a little something for us every year and we would find something small like a Whitman's Sampler and a charm bracelet, or some Valentine's themed toe socks before school.  And then when the school day was over, everyone went home toting their bag of Valentines.

I have good memories of Valentine's Day as a child.  I don't know exactly when the bitterness about it all started because I didn't have "bad" experiences until later.  I was 13 when I first started "dating", and that year my "boyfriend" dumped me on the 13th and then tried to reconcile with me on the 16th or 17th and I turned him down; Unfortunately, behavior like this would become his Modus operandi for the rest of his life.  There were other let downs and disappointments later, but he was the first.

As a side note, I did forgive him for that and we were very close friends for years after.  At one point, we even made a pact that if we were unattached and childless by 25, we'd marry each other and make babies.  I Facebook stalked him just so that I could tell you he now has a chin full of face pubes (have I ever told you that I believe bad facial hair ruins a nice face?), is married and has three children.  Just because of that pact, I'm going to count him as yet another dodged bullet even though we were only kids.

I tend to spend Valentine's Day doing things like baking heart shaped cookies and writing rude things on them, ordering Chinese takeout, watching slasher movies and gorging myself on clearance chocolate.  I'm not one of those people who only hates VD when they are single, it's actually worse if I have a significant other.  I am not a "mushy" person and there are very few people, if any, who know me intimately who would describe me that way.  Not to mention that anyone I've gone out of my comfort zone for by trying to be cute/sweet/mushy ended up stomping my heart into the ground in the end.  I just don't want to put myself out there anymore, and maybe that is why I dislike this day of love.

Enter Full Metal Mommy.  She shared a post today and I'm not going to lie, I read it at least six times and felt something different each time.  But there was one part that stuck out:
"I don’t hate Valentines day. I loathe forced romance.  I squirm at obligatory marital sex because it feels like a plot out of Mad Men and smells downright oppressive, but I love my husband.  I love our marriage because I don’t feel the weight of obligation and I love a chance to own and celebrate it. "
And I realized a few things, and some chords were struck in me.  I really DON'T hate Valentine's Day.  I actually kind of like it all (except the naked cupids...those still creep me out) especially pink sweets and heart shaped pizzas because I'm really an 8 year old in a 27 year old's body and I'm convinced things in fun shapes taste better.  I loathe forced romance because the most romantic memories I have are with men who failed miserably on Valentine's Day.  Maybe I feel so let down on the actual holiday itself because the men who gave me beautiful, kick Nicholas Sparks in the junk, romantic moments did so on any other day of the year and sucked on Valentine's Day.

Have I mentioned, I'm totally creeped out by "Penis Christmas"?  Maybe I'm a weirdo for thinking about these things, but the knowledge that one night a year a whole bunch of people decide to bump uglies creeps me out.


Also, DO NOT Google "Penis Christmas".  Trust me.  You wont believe the shit I had to see to get this meme.  Seriously.  It was an act of love. 

And when it comes to obligatory sex I find the whole exchange of cliche flowers/candy for obligatory sex to be like some kind of dysfunctional species specific mating ritual.  Male pigeons circle a female and when they think they have her attention they kind of spin in front of them (Google "pigeon mating ritual"); Somehow, I feel that is more honest than presenting a bouquet of flowers and expecting a blowjob.  Not to mention, I like to live in this little dream world where I believe that someday I'll meet someone wonderful, who I might downright hate sometimes but that I'll never get enough of.  The obligatory sex thing just makes me feel gross inside and part of me wonders if Valentine's Day has never really meant anything to me because it went from being about cute, card-stock valentines and Whitman Samplers to being about sex and has never really been about celebrating love for me, which is quite an incredibly sad realization.
All I've ever really wanted was to be reminded that love is present and I've never had that.  Not as an adult from someone who isn't "supposed" to love me, anyways.  I've never really gotten anything for Valentine's Day that I didn't have to ask for or hint at so strongly that I might as well have asked for it.  I detest the idea that someone is doing something for me because it is "the thing to do" and somehow having to tell someone what to do only cheapens it.  I can't remember when the last time someone gave me a Valentine they put thought into and only because they wanted me to "be their Valentine".

And this is where I find myself upset with the commercialism of Valentine's Day...though it isn't the main POINT.  Maybe no one I've ever been involved with on Valentine's Day really cared enough about me to do something special, in hindsight...I could certainly see that as being a reason.  But there is also a part of me that believes that they felt like that couldn't compete with the scenes depicted in a Kay Jeweler commercial, or some stupid romantic movie they saw once so they didn't even try.  They didn't even try...and the fact that they chose not to try bothers me more than the fact that they didn't because they felt that something cookie cutter is what I wanted anyway. 

And the truth is that I never wanted or needed a Hallmark holiday.  I want someone who wants to celebrate with me, and treat me like their Sweetheart.   I want someone to write me or make me something heartfelt.  I want to feel like I'm celebrating love with someone, not performing some kind of strange mating ritual EVERYONE is compulsively performing.  After everything I've said and the years of believing that I hate Valentine's Day, maybe the truth is that I really just don't know what it is like to experience being in love on Valentine's Day with someone who just wants to celebrate being in love with me.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

A Little Cheesy Survey

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Monday, February 10, 2014

Anonymous Confessions: In My Closet

Welcome to Sunday Confessions!  The topic this week: In My Closet.  See my post and the posts of the wonderful bloggers who joined me here. Facebook is still making it increasingly hard for Pages and Bloggers alike to share content, sadly.  So be sure to follow me on other forms of Social Media to get all of the information!  We are still sharing Page Confessions.  Here's what happened yesterday...anonymous confessions are BLACK, mine are PURPLE, and page confessions will contain a link!


" My scale is in my closet. Hidden in a box. My daughter has an eating disorder which came to a head this winter."

"When I was little I sometimes like to sit in my closet with the door closed because it felt safe."

"I lost my fiance 3 months ago, and his best friend has been my rock! I have fallen for him.  My biggest worry is that he is 22 and I'm 31, I've never been with anyone younger than me.  Plus what will people think about me being with his best friend so soon after his death.  I also worry that we have these feelings because of our grief.  Any advice is welcome!"

"In MY closet there's a bunch of old clothes in a giant pile that makes the flooring for the closet and new clothes that hang up on the bar. There is also some odds and ends of which I haven't seen in years probably. My wedding dress (which has yet to be cleaned) and a giant oak hope chest. And my most prized possession in there...my platform 5 inch black leather stripper boots BOOYAH! Told ya I was a freak!" - Peaches and Shyt

" In my closet hides the girl I used to be. The girl who was a lot smaller. The girl who had no idea how much she would change once she gave birth.
My closet hides the clothes that are too small. The clothes that actually fit but make me sick to look at. It hides my yoga pants, stretchy pants, leggings and other suitable stay at home mommy attire. 
My closet hides the cutest boots I never wear b/c they don't match my sweat pants. 
Worst of all, my closet hides me from myself. I don't want to look in there and see all the bigger clothes. I want to look in and see the skinny jeans that used to not be a struggle to wear. I want to put those clothes on and not feel like a drag queen, someone always in costume."

 "The shoes I wore to prom are sitting in my closet." - More than Cheese and Beer

"I am an in the closet equal rights supporter. Well, mostly secretive to my father-in-law and mother-in-law. Ironically, my husband's step mom has a gay son who is AWESOME and we all love him. Even my father in law. We just don't discuss it. #lovemesomemos Lol"

"I complain (a lot) about the DH being a hoarder.  My closet(s) prove that I am one, too.  Somebody call Stacey and Clinton, please!" - Mommy Needs Wine, Not Whine

"I cheated on my husband. I recently admitted it to him, and we are working on rebuilding our marriage."

"In my closet is where my husband and I get to have sex. See we co-sleep with a toddler which would be fine if we didn't have 5 older kids on the other side of the house. No fun times in the kitchen, or on the couch or being romantic in the shower (glass doors and no real door to the bathroom). So when we finally can steal a minute away I am getting rug burn next to sneakers and laundry. Ugh - what I would not give for some alone time or a grama near by. Once we both took off work to stay home and have a "naked Wednesday" while the kids were at school / the sitters - it was magical. I miss being spontaneous and free. "

"I'm the only woman who works in my shop, if they hired another one though, I'd quit."

"I have a walk-in closet to house all the skeletons I own. Just one for now...I am a closet lesbian, have been for about 12 years because I work for a religious educational establishment and if they found out, I would lose my job. So the last 12 years of my life, I feel have been a lie. Not fair to my partner at all, but thankfully she understands that it's to give our child a great opportunity."

"My closet hides...me. The parts of me I fear, hate and loath. I am a worrier. I am always in fear that I am not good enough, that I just don't measure up to who or what others think I should be. Or even worse, who I THINK I should be. Am I good enough for the job I do at work? Will they finally realize I am not qualified, and let me go? Am I good enough as a husband? Will she find someone better? Better at supporting financially (see previous fear). Better at listening and supporting her emotionally, spiritually. Do I really take care of all of her needs. Am I a good husband, or an ok husband? Am I good enough as a father / step-father? I pretty much screwed up the first kid, why did God give me others to mess up as well? My closet hides all of me that I just don't want others to see, and I even worry that one day, some day, they'll see the real me, and I just won't be good enough any more."

"I've struggled with bulimia. It has been horribly isolating. Now you know, and my friends who will read this will know, and somewhere in me I will feel free." - @ Ms. Mundane

"Used to have a mini fridge stocked with beer n margaritas a cozy place to sit n lock my self in away from kids"

"The only clothes I keep in my closet are the ones I am hiding from my husband ... so he doesn't realize that I have started using credit cards again after 6 years and a major debt consolidation pay off. I think I have a problem and it makes me sick to my stomach."

"In high school I expressed some opinions in the form of lipstick drawing on the wall in my closet. After I moved out, my parents were having some remodeling done and their contractor was re-trimming the closet that was once mine and he started laughing and said to my dad, "Who is Paul and why is he a dick?" I'll snap a picture of it later to share. My parents went ahead and left the "art work" there."

"When I was little I was afraid of the dark. My step mother was angry with me one day and locked me in a dark closet and to this day I still sleep with a light on...."

"In my closet one would find...some very boring clothes and sensible shoes. My closet does not befit the real me - the more I look at the contents of the closet the more I wonder why I hide behind "solids" and very little patterns. Everything seems to be sensibly and logically chosen, yet inside I am raging to be wild & crazy, eclectic and unpredictable. Would love to do a purge and a wardrobe overhaul but in order to do so, I need to figure out exactly what "look" I am ready to share - still looking for my true voice. BTW - I share my closet with my husband and his growing collection of superhero themed t-shirts makes me a wee bit jealous;-)" - Superior Nonsense

"My closet is a bit of a nightmare to be honest. There is so much "stuff" crammed up in there that the shelf has collapsed on several occasions. Most recently leading to almost 2 weeks of a 4 year old in my bed. (you will have to visit my page and read old posts for the scoop on that!) And while I constantly harp on my kids to keep theirs clean, the state of mine shows how hypocritical we can be as parents! Thanks for the prompt. Now I can add "clean my closet" to the ever-growing list of things I "need" to do.... ugh." - A Day in the Life of a Drama Queen's Momma

"When I was a little girl I always played in my Grandma's closet. I'll never forget the time when I found her stash of Reese's cups hidden in a pair of shoes in a shoe box. As we shared one, she said she hid them there from my Pap and I couldn't tell him or he'd steal them.I never did tell my Pap. And now I hide my own stash in there."

 "#InMyCloset, you'll find an array of things... Clothes (that I don't wear) broken electronics set aside for repair... But most importantly, it's where I hide the chocolate (Shhh, don't tell the kids!).Come on, you didn't really expect me to hang my skeletons out to dangle for all the world to see, did you?" - Why Didn't Someone Warn Me?

"Are three men who should not be.  Y'all might not like me for what I am posting.  Just being honest.  One is physical.  The other two online.  Sure feels physical though.  All three give me something different.  Whether desire, curiosity, humor or courage to keep going forward.  They are there along with my 26 pairs of shoes that fit me too.  That is my closet." 

"I am an in the closet equal rights supporter. Well, mostly secretive to my father-in-law and mother-in-law. Ironically, my husband's step mom has a gay son who is AWESOME and we all love him. Even my father in law. We just don't discuss it. #lovemesomemos Lol"

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Sunday Confessions: In My Closet

Thank you for joining me for another Sunday Confessions!


MoreThanCheeseandBeer

Today's Sunday Confession prompt:
In My Closet


I'm sitting here on my bed with my laptop in front of me, looking into my closet.

I'm sure the contents are the same as anyone else's closet: clothes I wear to work, funeral clothes, and clothes I wear for special occasions.  Plus my skinny clothes that I dream of fitting in again some day. The shoes I wore to prom that were one size too big a decade ago but I somehow grew into.  The Candies boots that I bought on Clearance from an expensive shoe store in the mall with money that I got for having the most accurate drawer at my first job cashiering at a local grocery store (those boots are listed as Vintage now...maybe if I hold on to them they will be worth something someday.)

But at the bottom of my closet are the mementos of my life, some of the things I've saved from moments that took my breath away, things I never wanted to forget, small pieces of the things that mattered. 

A little, cheap ring from an arcade from the first boy who ever asked me to be his girlfriend and ended up being my first kiss. 

Ticket stubs from the first play I ever went to- Romeo and Juliet- with a sweet, wonderful boy named Chris who I have many wonderful, fond memories from. 

A token with an Irish Blessing on it purchased in the gift shop of a shrine where I went to see an exhibit on the shroud of Turin.

Two golden tickets from the International Native American Flute Festival that I went to with my mom who bought them for us because Bill Miller was going to be playing.  And tickets from events we went to after that.

The plane ticket from my first trip to Texas.

A swatch and extra sequins for my prom dress. 

Miscellaneous trinkets from boyfriends past.

Old birthday cards, letters from loves that slowly but surely burned out, reminders of the things I've seen and done. 

The first jewelry box my parents gave to me as a kid.  Inside of it, a porcelain unicorn they bought for me and a little toy that my father gave to me one Christmas as a Child. 

Another jewelry box that was my mother's.  She had wanted to throw it but I insisted on keeping the plain, wooden box that was home to the worn ballerina with one broken arm.  Inside it, I keep a necklace my mother made for me when my brother was born.  A napkin from my parent's wedding.  A silver charm my Dad bought for me.  And every single quarter machine ring my little brother every gave me.

There is also a box of pictures.  Family pictures.  Old School pictures.  Pictures I took as a teenager for wall collages made of photos of me and my friends. Pictures of old loves.  Pictures of those I've loved and lost. 

The boyfriend-that-was was always really bothered by my box of photos.  He couldn't understand why I would keep all the things I have tucked away.  Especially things like pictures of my exes, or heaven forbid...anything ANYONE from my past might have given me.  Truth be told, I don't know how to be anything BUT a sentimental being.  Those objects....they don't rule my life.  I don't pull out the memories and weep over days gone by.  Nor do I long for the men of my past...most of which I consider a blessing to have loved and lost.  I've had some of the best moments of my life with people who were only there for a short period of time.

Perhaps I'm too sensitive or too sentimental, but I can't help but think that maybe someday when I'm an old woman....I'd like to remember dancing in the middle of the street or feeling the movement inside a warm goose egg standing in the middle of a train bridge under a beautiful, starry Northern sky.  I don't ever want to forget the cool things I saw and did with my Mom.  I don't ever want to lose the memory of getting on a plane for love. 

In light of recent events, there is a small part of my that might be just a little bit afraid of losing me as I grow older.  Maybe this is my way of forever holding on to who I was. 

Friday, February 7, 2014

Secret Subject Swap

Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This week, 15 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.


Secret Subject Swap

Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts.  Sit back, grab a cup, and check them all out. See you there:

Baking In A Tornado
The Momisodes
Stacy Sews and Schools
Follow me home . . .
Dinosaur Superhero Mommy
Dates 2 Diapers 2
Confessions of a part-time working mom
Evil Joy Speaks
Spinster Snacks
FBX Adventures (In Parenting)
More Than Cheese and Beer
Searching for Sanity
 Small Talk Mama
 Juicebox Confession
 Spatulas on Parade

My subject for my first Subject Swap is: 
“Hollywood producers ask you to come up with a Valentines episode for your favorite TV show. What show? What happens? Any special guests? Any crazy cliffhangers? Super mushy?”

It was submitted by: Dinosaur Superhero Mommy


*******

My FAVORITE TV Show is American Horror Story.  I LOVE me some of that crazy Jessica Lange.



The episode starts with Fiona waking up in a messed up bed, alone.  She slowly wake up, rolls over in the bed and reaches across the bedside table, knocking over one of many glasses and spilling liquor on the floor to scratch another slash into the knotty pine walls.  Thirteen days.  She grabs for the bottle on the table and tries to pour another glass and gets a small trickle.  She stumbles out into the kitchen, grumbling again about the smell of fish on her way to the side board where she pours herself a drink.  Fiona tosses the drink back.  She reaches for another only to stop when she sees Papa Legba sitting the chair where we last saw him.  He invites her to come sit with him.



Next we find beautiful Zoe standing in the bathroom applying heavy makeup, something we haven't seen her do.  She puts on lipgloss, then sits on the edge of the bathtub and lights a cigarette.  While she is sitting there, she closes her eyes and suddenly she is on a bed, struggling.  She looks up and sees Kyle above her.  He's choking her and she is fighting against him and then suddenly it goes dark.  Suddenly, Zoe shakes her head, throws her cigarette in the toilet and flushes the toilet with her foot before walking out of the bathroom.  She's wearing a black dress and as she walks down the hallway she passes Queenie who asks her if the dress she is wearing is Madison's.  She replies, "What if it is?  She doesn't need it anymore".   As she gets closer to Queenie, she leans over and says, "I'm wearing her crotchless panties too".  She walks past her and down the hallway to find Kyle and kisses him hard, grabbing at him, and then walks past him towards her room.  He remarks that she has been acting strangely, and asks if she is ok.  She turns around at the doorway to her room, flashes a smile and tells him, "I'm more than ok.  I'm alive."  The door slams shut.



Papa Legba sits snorting cocaine while Fiona makes her way to the living room.  She scoffs, looks around the room and tells him she can't decide what is worse: the knotty pine or the paisley sofa.  Fiona pleads with Papa Legba to help her and asks him how she gets out of there, how to get out of her deal with the Axeman.  Papa Legba tells her there is a way to get out of the deal she made, that she could leave that place but it would require other sacrifices that she might not be willing to make.  Fiona tells him that anything could be better than this mundane, ordinary existence with someone content to eat catfish for breakfast.



Zoe wakes up in the main room of the house, but everything is dark, grey and cold.  There is little light, the fireplace is cold and everything is shadowy.  Zoe walks through the house, calling out and looking for the other witches.  She goes up the stairs and towards her room.  There is a light on and the door is cracked and she walks in on Kyle and Madison in flagrante.  Madison pulls back slowly, covering herself up and staring triumphantly at Zoe.  Kyle wraps a blanket around himself and walks towards Zoe, telling her that it is over, he doesn't want to be with her and he doesn't love her.  Then Zoe wakes up on the couch again and completes the loop through the cold dark house.

"It's over.  I want to be with Madison.  I don't love you."

Zoe wakes on the couch again.  At the bottom of the stairs Zoe realizes that she must be in hell.  She tries to slow down. She tries not to continue up the stairs but she can't stop.  She slowly, reluctantly walks towards the open door.  The door opens, Kyle and Madison are on the bed in the same position but there is someone sitting on the bed by the door smoking.

The handsomely beautiful figure (played by the incredible Tilda Swinton in all her androgynous glory), rises from the bed wearing some kind of fabulous twist on a pantsuit.  She is red-haired, and wearing red.  She tells Zoe she can make it stop and she can help her get out.



The mysterious figure in red tells Zoe that she is Cupid and she has come to help her in the name of true love.  When Zoe questions the figure's identity, Cupid explains that that Cupid is Androgynous despite all the figures and paintings depicting a chubby, arrow-wielding, diaper-wearing child and that she prefers being referred to as a Her as women are the more tender and capable of love in all it's various forms.  Cupid explains that when Kyle was exacting his revenge on Madison for not resurrecting Zoe, Cordelia was attempting to bring her back and unfortunately, Madison's spiteful and desperate soul was closer to Zoe's body and now she's taken it over.

Having struck a deal of some kind with Papa Legba, Fiona begins standing in front of all the mirrors and calling out to Cordelia and the new students in the house, begging for help whenever the Axeman isn't around.  Cordelia thinks she is seeing things, that perhaps she has some unresolved Mommy-issues in spite of seemingly making peace with Fiona so she says nothing.  Eventually, one of the new witches starts seeing Fiona in the reflections on everything from water pitchers at dinner to the mirrors in the bedrooms and decides to try and help her.

Cupid brings Zoe back to take down Madison.  Unfortunately, because her body is occupied Zoe needs another "vessel".  She comes back as Nan because Nan had the purest heart and because Misty (the only other option) died while she was in Hell and still has not broken the loop. 


Unfortunately, Zoe isn't the only person coming back from hell.  The new student finds a book with the help of Fiona and finds a way to bring her back, only Fiona doesn't come back as a human she comes back as a spirit much like the Axeman did.  She is trapped in the house but hides her presence from Cordelia by hanging out in the attic, drinking liquor out of tea cups with Spalding and his dolls.  Her presence doesn't escape Queenie, however, who suspects rodents have gotten into the house and reports hearing noises and smelling cigarette smoke .  When Cordelia becomes aware of her presence, she releases Fiona from her imprisonment in the house in spite of Fiona's protestations and attempted warnings about Papa Legba.  Cordelia chooses not to listen and bans her from every returning to the house her from EVER being able to harm another ever again.  Fiona's ghost walks out past the gates and down the street into a foggy, New Orleans street without ever revealing the conditions of the deal she had made. 

Cupid helps Zoe form a plan to get Madison out of her body, but she has to work around Kyle who suspects something is "off" with the person he believes to be Nan.  Madison realizes what is going on and organizes a group of the new girls and enlists their help by telling them that there is a spirit in the house that needs to be released and moved on.  The reality is that the spell would exorcise Zoe from Nan's body and send her to Hell forever.  There are girls who question Madison but are quickly shot down by her condescending attitude and are intimidated by her Counsel Member status. 

When the girls are performing the spell, Zoe brings Cordelia to the attention of the actions of Madison Montgomery and the students.  In a last ditch, desperate and totally cliche move Madison tells Zoe that if she can't have Kyle then no one will and she sends an Athame from the ceremony the students are performing at rapid speed towards his neck.  Zoe, throws herself in front of Kyle and takes the athame and as Nan's body lays dying in Kyle's arms, Cupid shows up and fires an arrow straight at Madison/Zoe's body.  The arrow knocks Madison out of Zoe's body which crumples to the ground, and pins Madison's spirit to the wall where she is unable to get free. 

Nan's body died again.  Zoe rises and is guided back to her own body.  Cupid then give Zoe a potion, Love Potion #9, which reunites Zoe with her body.  As she begins to wake up, Papa Legba approaches Madison who is still pinned to the wall by Cupid's arrow.  Cupid approaches and Papa Legba explains that Madison has escaped him multiple times before that he was owed a soul promised to him by the former Supreme.  Cupid says she has no use for the loveless soul and both she and the arrow disappear. 

Madison wakes up at the farm where Fiona was formerly imprisoned, only when she wakes up and leaves the bedroom she finds Papa Legba sitting at the table.  Madison asks him what the hell she is doing there because it wasn't her version of hell.

Papa Legba explains to her that he had made a deal with Fiona, that if she could get someone to get her out of hell that she would send Papa Legba a soul to be his companion.  But then Fiona was exorcised and bound without completing her end of the deal.  Madison was the first soul to pass and so he was going to keep her at the farm with him for the rest of eternity... 





*That's it....my FIRST Secret Subject Swap....I hope I did it justice*

The Pit & The Peak

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PITS
- I got wind that the new girl at work is talking about me and trying to tell people things about me (please keep in mind that I have had ONE conversation with her so she doesn't really have anything to say).  I hate being talked about.  I really don't like the new girl.  I've tried so hard to initiate conversations, get to know her, make an effort, assist in her training where appropriate...but I just can't like her.  They say that women like their co-workers based on whether or not they can relate to them, and men like them based on their work ethic....I can't like her on any platform.  Unfortunately, while I feel she brings a certain about of negative energy, I'm also aware that my dislike of her also bring negativity to the workplace. 

- STILL do not have a car.  Next week will be 2 months without a vehicle.  I'm tired of being an inconvenience. I'm tired of having everyone know everything I want or am doing.  I'm tired of having to ask for help.  I could utilize public transportation, but I'm located BETWEEN everything.  It would take me more than 3x as long to get my errands and running done.  I'm really starting to feel bitter. 

- I totally got to swallow some major embarrassment this week.  I'm not comfortable saying more, but I'm so tired of not being as independent and self-sufficient as I'm used to being and like to be and having someone treat me like a 16 year old kid again in mixed company really made me feel awful, and the embarrassment factor only made it worse.

- I ate like crap this week.  I probably gained back the weight I had lost.

PEAK
- I launched my new monthly link-up, Pet Tails and I've gotten excellent responses. 

- I test drove a vehicle, which is a step up from not doing anything the past few weeks.  

- I'm healthy, for the most part, which is more than a lot of people have going for them.

- I'm still trying to track my food with MyFitnessPal and I've been doing great with that.  I've drank my 8 cups of water every day.  I've logged pretty successfully this week. Which, even if I am going over on my calories...I'm still logging and that counts for something.

I've been walking a lot more.  At least twice as much as I was doing a few weeks ago, even if it is just from walking to the bathroom down the hall or walking an extra lap before returning to work after my break. 

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Anonymous Confessions: Ageing

Welcome to Sunday Confessions!  The topic this week: Ageing.  See my post and the posts of the wonderful bloggers who joined me here. Facebook is still making it increasingly hard for Pages and Bloggers alike to share content, sadly.  So be sure to follow me on other forms of Social Media to get all of the information!  We are still sharing page confessions.  Here's what happened yesterday, anonymous confessions are BLACK, mine are PURPLE, and page confessions will contain a link!



I probably won't notice when I go grey because I dye my hair so much. I grew it out in college, but...I haven't seen my natural hair color in years. My Driver's License should have a color wheel -More than Cheese and Beer

"Instead of going grey with dignity, I have been bleaching for months. I sometimes wonder if its too Targaryen" - Sweet Moe and Co

I've wanted Botox since I was like...12. - More than Cheese and Beer

"I have been 21 for the last 7 birthdays. Some days I forget how old I actually am" - Sweet Moe and Co

I'm only 25 but in my years, I've had it good and bad. Being a teen mom is stressful even at the age of 25. I'm still learning and doing this the best that I can. Some days I feel older, some a young woman. Aging is all in how you grow as a person to me. I feel like I've grown as a person but who really knows if that is what happened? - Mama's Daily Dose of Crazy

For about 4 months I told people I was turning 34...I was turning 33 (and I still forget that.) - FBX-Adventures in Parenting

"Just found my first grey armpit hair. So there's that... " - Still Smihlen

"I hit 30 last year, and all of a sudden I am noticing the fine lines, gray hair, etc. I'm not a vain person, but I plan on dyeing my hair (which I said I would not do) and if I had the money, I'd probably get botox!" - Ramblings of a Real Mother

Sometimes, I feel like being overweight makes me look older. -More than Cheese and Beer

I've reached the age after having a child that peeing your pants is normal. I wonder if her pull ups fit..... - Ramblings of a Wined Out Mama

"It is what it is. Creams and dyes will not change it. I am learning that with ageing comes wisdom. That is becoming a wonderful teacher and great companion. Embrace ageing. It can do you no harm."

I asked my nephew what he thought about getting older. He told me, "You sleep more". When I asked him what he meant, he said..."When you get older, you know, you want to sleep more" 
Hahahahaha. Ageing...to a 6 year old. - More Than Cheese and Beer

"Sometimes, I tell people I'm years older than I am so they can go...'OMG! you look fabulous.' I'm all...Yeah, I know"

I love cherry flavored prunes. Like...eat a whole bunch love.#noproblemsinthatdepartment#idontneedalliforthat#enoughallijokes  - More Than Cheese and Beer

Sunday, February 2, 2014

On Ageing

Welcome to Sunday Confessions!  If you have a blog, please be sure to link up via the blue linky at the bottom!

MoreThanCheeseandBeer

Today's Sunday Confession prompt:
AGEING

On Friday, I posted a nice long blog post about being Stoic.  That post started as my Sunday Confession.  Because the truth is, I'm not afraid of dying.  I'm not afraid of the end.  I'm not afraid of the actual thing itself.  The truth is...I'm more afraid of ageing. 

Every time I go into the bathroom with the intent to take a shower, I take off all of my clothes and look at myself in the mirror.  I pick pimples look at my blemishes.  I jiggle some part that is looking squishier than I remember it being just to see if it actually is.  I stare at my tits and sigh at the bigger boob.  I push my boobs up farther on my chest and wonder what it must be like to have tiny, perky tits and wonder what life is like for women that don't require a bra to go out in public.  I lean over and try to figure out just how much bigger the bigger boob is.  Then, I make all of the faces that make my forehead and the space between my eyes wrinkle and check to see if the lines have grown deeper or more noticeable.  I take my fingers and lifting upwards at the temples to see if it makes a difference.  I suck in my cheeks and make fish lips.  

I don't know what I'm going to do when I actually spot a wrinkle.  I can tell my skin is already losing some elasticity.  Every time I do my body inspection, I vow to wash my face and use moisturizer ad sunscreen.  Sometimes I wonder how much damage I did tanning, if any, but I still think about going back.  And I have to admit to myself that I'm probably already screwed. 

A friend I've known since I was thirteen turned 29 last week.  For some reason, his birthday always serves as a reminder of my upcoming birthday.  I've cried on my birthday every year since I have turned 18 for one reason or another.  Usually because I feel like another year has passed and I'm still living a life that is completely different than what I thought it was going to be. And every year I wonder if life with always be this way for me. 

I don't have kids.  I don't know that I ever will even meet someone I want to have children with, and I don't think I have what it takes to make the conscious decision to be a single parent.  And perhaps this is the most old fashioned argument ever, but I feel like I look awful old for my age...who would be interested in me anyway.

So, without kids...who will take care of me someday?  A stranger?  I was one of those strangers who takes care of the elderly.  I hugged little old ladies and let them kiss me.  I helped dress frail looking old men in pajamas.  It was one of the most rewarding and frightening learning experiences of my life.  My first resident at the nursing home was 105.  I didn't think she was really aware of where she was, or who I was until I realized that she always called me "Angel" and she didn't call anyone else that.  Sometimes, she would beg me to take her home with me.  She had been in the nursing home for more than 10 years.  I cried when they gave her last rites.  Then she pulled through and lived another 9 months.  I can't imagine what it must be like relying on someone else to take care of me, which is why I've always put love into caring for others.  But knowing I can't stand to ask anyone for help as it is, how will I ever let someone who doesn't know me or love me help me when I can no longer help myself?

I'm terrified of the future.  I hate Ageing.