eRamblings

I gotta say I was the spitting image of hotness today when I ventured out after dinner to get water in my tank, bermudas, striped fuzzy socks and slippers. I mean a real sex pot. I was about half way there when it occurred to me I probably looked like I got dressed in the dark.

This past weekend my parent’s and I created the most delicious breakfast with some of the incredible foods we picked up at the fresh food market. My mom and I went to two in one day. Not planned, but she didn’t find what she was looking for at the first and we just wanted to go to the bigger one to begin with. I have been in heaven, drowning in fresh fruits and vegetables. I even found this really cool ring made out of bamboo. I just love the experience of going to the market. The people, the atmosphere, the dogs, the smells and sounds. It is all so wonderfully delightful.

This guy was so artfully dressed, I just had to take a pic. I just love his suspenders and the feather in his hat just makes me smile.

These have to be the most beautiful sunflowers I have seen in so long. I should have bought some, but I was too busy taking pictures. Don’t they just scream friendly and sunshine. One of my favorite flowers because of their simple cheerfulness.

And the CUTEST puppy EVER?!

Here’s a pic of the breakfast we made. Check out the veggies in there - broccoli, peppers, cheese. We paired it with toast dripping with jelly - oh wait just mine was dripping with jelly. My dad makes the absolutely best omelets and egg sandwiches ever!! My niece keeps saying how he needs to open a restaurant for them. I was thinking he should call it Bampy’s Bad Ass Breakfasts.

I have been living up life. Truly enjoying myself. It keeps amazing me how wonderful life is when I live in the moment. It really is like having my cake and eating it too. Simply breath taking. Funny how I always thought time would slow down if I lived in the moment, but in reality it speeds up. I am always trying to breath in the moments as they are passing. I think I will always be one of those peeps who thinks about the future, planning ahead, but I am now able to look in the past and see how far I’ve come. I appreciate my history so much more all the while relishing in the now.

Work has been keeping me busy. I am finally feeling more like myself. Kicking ass and taking names. Most days at work I feel like a fucking queen. I leave thinking - that was so awesome! I love days like that. I am hoping for a promotion, but (surprisingly) I am okay to wait because I know that it is inevitable. I am doing a good job and I know it. I am really enjoying the people I work with too. I picked up a sequel to The Five Love Languages and it includes how to apply it for work relationships. Seems to be working.

I have been a reading fiend lately too. I really have to choose between blogging and reading. I can’t seem to figure out how to do both. I read Nora Robert’s newest book Vision in White. I just got sucked into the romance of it. Ironically too, I was intrigued by the wedding business seeing as how our family did quite a bit of that with our business. I picked up a book the other day (ack! feeding my habit) that was too good to pass up - Francine Prose, Reading like a Writer: a guide for people who love books and for those who want to write them. Other ones I have read lately are American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld (oddly very similar to the political events during Bush administration) and Living Buddha, Living Christ by Thich Naht Hanh.

I have been having a blast going out with friends and grabbing a beer after work. Who knew I liked beer? I am definitely a darker, heavier beer lover, but I have been tasting them like wine to find the ones I like.

Father’s day was very fun though my dad and I celebrated it a week earlier because my gift to him was a baseball game. We ended up taking my mom and a girl friend of mine. My dad laughed because he said at one point my friend and I were both talking so fast that we were talking at the same time. It was great to get out, catch a game and drink a beer. I had so much fun. I felt like I cheated my dad. Like giving a guy lingerie for a gift - really the gift is for the girl, I mean she gets to wear it, y’know?

My new favorite song? Check it out here.

A friend of mine called me up the other day and suggested we go hit some balls at the local put-put place. I was stoked right off the bat (no pun intended, swear), but as it got closer to the time to go nerves started from nowhere. It has been probably close to a year if not more since the last time I hit a golf ball. I don’t mind looking like an idiot or laughing at myself, but I pride myself of being able to hit a ball. I have done enough practicing with my dad to know the basics.

This whole being in a car accident and breaking my wrist badly enough to have had hand therapy for over nine months has been harder than I thought. It has hit my confidence level more than I would like to admit. I am trying to just jump back in and not think when I am faced with a challenge, but it is a little scary.

I think my biggest fear is being faced with something I could do before and now, after, I won’t be able to do it.

Work has a team building event scheduled where we are going bowling. I was so excited til I realized I would have to bowl with my right hand. The one I am currently having trouble lifting things with and still feels like a hand not of my own. I will be bowling no matter what. I will do it. But the fear is I won’t be able to keep up or do well enough to please myself. Because I am my biggest competition. I am my worst enemy.

Fear of failure.

Not something I am used to. I have always believed that Failure Lies In Quitting - not not being able to do something. With all that happened to me this last year, I have lost my confidence, but instead of being afraid to fail, I have become afraid to try. I have avoided doing things that I may not be able to do. I can’t avoid them forever or I will lose some of the things I like doing most.

I have also been thinking I would like to take up a sports hobby like women’s softball. My dad suggested joining an adult swim team which has always been on my mind. Something I know I will eventually do. It’s inevitable. Swimming is in my blood. No matter what I do, I can’t forget that I lost my swim scholarship because of a herniated disc in my back.

Going to hit balls was so much fun. Frustrating yes, but way more fun. It left me thinking maybe I should look into golf lessons. In the hundreds of balls I hit probably only a dozen were actually good ones. Ones I would watch sailing in the air and think, “I’ve still got it,” but it didn’t matter because I may not have been able to hit the ball, but about the same amount of times I could feel myself slip into my golf stance. I remembered what it felt like to put the club next to the ball, move my feet til I felt good, arrange my shoulders and arms into position than take a deep resounding breath before gripping the club and starting my swing. No matter what happened after that, it felt good. Damn good.

Golf has always been something I have enjoyed. It is a wonderful opportunity to enjoy quality time with my dad. Eventually it became something I love to do. But yesterday I realized it is a great stress reliever too. It is a good thing to get out and do with others and on my own. I don’t need anyone else to enjoy golf. Hence golf lessons. I will feel better about my game and I can relax at the same time. Bonus.

Check out this article on msn.com about Women and golf.

I have been trying to forget the past year or so of events simply because I want it all to be behind me. I want to be free from the chaos of it all. I want to let go of the emotional prison I have felt stuck in. But mostly because I have felt like the chains are falling off and I am starting over. Back to the person I remember being way back when. When I was happy and carefree.

I like this person I am becoming.

I like the fun and playfulness of it all.

I like the not harboring resentment and filled with anxiety.

I have missed this person.

But days like today, make me wonder if I can really let it all go. If maybe it will always be a part of me.

Sometime in the past I lost that confident kick ass woman. I became self doubting. I stopped seeing myself as someone who could conquer the world and got rather sucked up in the sadness of it all. I never used to doubt myself the way I do now. When faced with a problem, I would linger on the consequences and then go for it, knowing I would be fine regardless of the outcome. Then again, I was blissfully unaware of how bad things could really be. I led a pretty sheltered life.

Then last year happened. And kept happening.

I didn’t realize how bad it had affected me til I went back to work. For the first couple of months I would break down not realizing how distraut I was about everything. I would second guess myself at the most trivial things. And with the help of time and wonderful people around me, I think I got back to a somewhat confident me.

But today, I was given another speech about taking risks (at work) and I found myself thinking, “I thought I was finally doing so. I felt as if I was getting comfortable in my skin again. I felt like I was doing a pretty damn good job. Finally.” And when I gave in and questioned it I foudn that I really haven’t been diving in without care. I have been holding back - still. I have been cautious. I am still protecting myself against pain and sadness.

Then I reminded myself of how far I have come. How much pain and loss I have not only endured, but gotten past. I have healed. I am healing. It is just a process. And a long one at that. I just have to keep being patient and rolling with the punches. I have to keep taking time out for reconciliation and recouperation.

I have to keep on, keeping on.

y’know?

I have seen this post over at different blogs like this one. Each and every time I see it, I get a silent thrill that we are not confessing things we didn’t do. It is not not fun. And since this is the year of fun (for me) I decided to join in and take a gander of what I’m not doing.

I didn’t go out and have a few too many beers.

I didn’t go out the next night and have another few too many beers.

I didn’t have a friend drive me home and then back to pick up my car in the morning.

I am not having a fantabulously fun time with my friends lately.

I didn’t go to a dance club that I haven’t been to in over a decade (oh no I didn’t).

I didn’t come home as the sun was coming up either.

I didn’t go to work and tell them I just wasn’t feeling well - didn’t know why - just that my stomach was a little achy with a slight headache.

Join in MckMama for other fun Not Me Mondays!

My boss comes in to work the other day and announces that she is cured from the chicken pox and that she must inform us that she was present at work while contagious. Additionally she has had the chicken pox before and advices all of us to be cautious as we may (or may not) have contracted them.

How very calm and collected she seems. In fact, she seems quite content and strangely happy that she is well.

After my heart started beating again . . .

I start to realize that the supposedly bug bites I have scratched (just a few times) could very well be the beginning of the (swine) chicken pox that can occur more than once in a lifetime. Instead of the blood sucking mosquito I presumed it to be. I am worried because not only do I have two very definite bumps on my inner arm (a very sensitive area), but I noticed a bump on my finger that night and another on my wrist the next morning and quite possibly one on my neck. In a slightly hyperventilating state, I start to analyze all my bumps and red marks.

There are quite a few of them.

And then I think, I should get a tan (maybe even a fake one) because that would cover up my red marks - uhm, bumps - chicken pox (?).

I also take note (over the course of that day) how many of my coworkers seem to be scratching. Without even realizing it, I might add.

And the next thought may very well be the crazy in me coming out.

How bad could it be? I would get a week off of work right?

WTF am I thinking? I would seriously rather be at home in bed, confined to solitary and forbidden to scratch those sweet (blessedly sweet when I scratch them) bumps for days on end THAN GO TO WORK?

I think it may be time for an official (paid) vacation.

I ran into an old friend of mine at work tonight.

Specifically a guy I dated way back when. One of those honest, through and through good guys. Maybe even too nice (how awful is that?). We used to have so much fun. Innocent fun. He was smart and funny and a complete work aholic like me. We knew it each other for over four years. And in the process of living, we grew apart.

Tonight I met his wife and two kids.

I was overwhelmed with joy. I was actually speechless for a couple of seconds. He has a beautiful wife and two kids who look exactly like his baby pictures I remember his parents showing me.

I couldn’t believe it.

Long after we said goodbye, I thought about him. And all I could think was, I was so happy for him. He had found happiness and was living his life.

Then it struck me that for the first time - maybe ever - but the first time in a long time I ran into an old friend and instead of feeling angry, bitter or frustrated that my life wasn’t what I thought it would be. I felt nothing but sheer happiness for him.

It occured to me that I may be happy myself. Content even. Horror the thought.

It isn’t because I love my job. It isn’t because I love my ghetto apartment. It isn’t because I have money streaming in or going on glorious vacations. It isn’t because of the people in my life either. It is simply because of me. I could psycho analyse the fact that I have chosen to be happy with that which I have in my life right now, but I don’t care why.

All night, since running into this guy, all I could think was I am happy.

How cool is that?

You know the ones. Those large blue cups that initiate us all in to the college world. The cup that is handed to me when I walk in the door, drop the keys in the bag and pay $5 for the cheapest beer on the planet.

All the beer I can drink for $5 - crappiest beer on the planet.

The kind of beer that comes from a keg.

The kind of beer that when held upside down, holding a tube to my mouth and people chanting crapiest beer ever.

The kind of beer that gets tossed as hundreds of kids, like ants over a mole hill, leap over a backyard fence effortlessly when the sirens and cruiser lights start flashing.

Ah, yes the coming of age beer.

That is the kind of beer I had today at a baseball game.

Sitting in a plastic (usually uncomfortable, but today brilliant) seat, the gentle cool breeze blowing across my skin, the crowd cheering and trying to start a wave, the guys walking up and down the stairs yelling popcorn, icees; the conversation muffled through the humming noise, the crack of the bat and the whoohoos and boos. All of it, drinking a ginormously large, clear plastic cup of beer.

Funny thing, the beer tasted a million times better than it did in college. In those blue cups.

I wonder if college would have been better with clear cups instead?

It dawned on me that on this particular day I was singing, happily working with all the usual stresses floating around me, yet none of them really bothered me. In fact, I was way behind where I wanted to be in work and still - nothing. I was chewing gum (see below for more on this) and working away.

WTF?

What makes this day any better than the others I had?

I had a really awesome weekend. Really I did, but I’ve had those before and within 10 minutes it’s lost on work chaos.

I slept really well too.

I definitely cleaned my place from top to bottom. (mom you’d be so proud!)

Nothing majorly spectacular happened.

Really.

Then I started thinking, when I worked in the clothes section I loved Mondays as well. Every Monday morning, I had to be in to work at 4am. 4 am people!! Yet, I loved it. For four glorious hours I had peace and quiet to work my heart out. I used to beg my boss to let me work 12 hour Mondays. I just had spunk on that day.

Now, I work in the grocery area. I have to close on Mondays so I am there in the afternoon late into the night. Very late. I will confess I am not a night person. (actually I am not a morning person either. i am really a day person (11-4) haha)

There I am happily working away.

And then it dawns on me.

It’s Monday.

Maybe I like Mondays. Could it be possible? A reverse Garfield syndrome.

I related this thought to a coworker, who said it’s only weird if I don’t like the weekend. Hmm, that wouldn’t be it. I love the weekends - well weekends I don’t work anyway.

When I delve deep into this thought, it makes perfect sense to me.

It’s the beginning of the week (for me - I don’t start my week on Sunday that just seems wrong). There are so many possibilities. If I had a horrible week last week, now it starts over. If I didn’t have the weekend I wanted, I can work towards my next weekend.

It’s like cleaning. I absolutely despise cleaning. But once I get into it, I can enjoy it to an extent, Once I am done, I couldn’t be happier. Not only is it clean, but I don’t have to clean for at least another week. Very exciting.

It could also be that I have always worked in retail, so I have never had my weekends off consistently. I don’t actually know what it is like to have two days off, in a row, every week. So for me, Mondays are kind of how I gauge my week.

What is your favorite day?

I have come to really enjoy the day I close at work. Not because it is a closing shift which means I will never get anything done, but fixing the store so there’s no pressure to accomplish anything. Not because it is a closing shift where I can help guests all night long and therefore engage in interesting conversation and the occasional as*holic remark from an ignorant customer.

But rather, I enjoy closing shifts now because I can wake up anytime I want - no alarm clock required. I can relax and enjoy my morning sipping coffee, doing chores and whatever I feel. I can wander around the house in my pjs with no thought to when I have to work. I can make my dinner (for work) with plenty of time to spare. I can take a nice long, hot shower and stand in the hot water if I want. I can cook, I can clean, I can take a walk to the mailbox or sit in my bed with a cup of coffee all morning.

No worries.

No pressure.