I am walking a week from tomorrow to help out with Juvenile Diabetes and could really use your help. All I am asking for is $10.00, that's less than what you'd spend going to the movies or out on the town for a night! Plus any donation, (large or small) will help in the continued research for Juvenile Diabetes... you could be part of the cure.
So please help to sponsor me in the walk if you can.
You can do so by clicking here.
I know that money can be tight for all of us, but wouldn't it be great to be part of the solution that helps to allow children to live healthy, normal lives?
Thanks!
21 September 2007
16 September 2007
Sword in the Stone
I had the opportunity the other night to catch up with a college friend who I haven’t seen all that much since we left school despite the fact we both live in the same city and only a couple of miles from each other. Sometimes life gets in the way of being able to share it with friends.
She has recently split from her boyfriend of three years so as we artistically installed a toilet paper holder and began to clean her new apartment our talk naturally led to the boys that we have shared beds with. Recounting my past to a good friend who has been first hand to witness a couple of my juicy stories was like looking through an old photo album – it’s full of all kinds of memories: some beautiful, others ugly.
She called me her provocative friend and I’ll take that as a compliment. While I haven’t left a trail of broken hearts in my wake I have lived my adult life with a carpe diem M.O. If I see something I want and it is available to me I take it and don’t see a problem with that. To me I need as much of a connection with a guy physically as I do with their personality. Because of this I usually opt for running the bases faster than I probably should. I’d honestly rather know if the sexual chemistry is there or not before I get to know a guy really well and potentially fall for his personality to only wind up disappointed when things finally progress into the bedroom.
At some point during the night the following was brought to my attention: I propel guys in to committed relationships…. with other women. I truly do not know what to make of this realization. While it is not true with every guy I have had relations with, it has happened a handful of times. It makes me reflect about myself… I have said for years from my experiences that it seems like guys want to sleep with a redhead to see if the stereotypes are true, but they want to date a blonde or brunette. I don’t deny that there are many quirks that come with being a redhead that I wouldn’t have if I had been born with a different hair color. But I’d like to believe that my being a redhead ensures that the long haul will be a memorable one worth taking rather than just only good enough for a one-night test drive.
Is there something about me that is both the cause of a guy not wanting to be in a relationship with me but also the catalyst that causes them to rush out there to find a woman to be all heavy and serious with? That might be the most hurtful thing that could be said to me. I know I’m quirky and at times difficult, but at the end of the day to steal a line from a Julia Roberts movie: “After all... I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.”
If this realization is true, that I in fact push boys in to serious relationships with other women, well then I should start charging for my services! I don’t deny that it is slightly ironic, however I choose for the time being until proven differently to look at the situation in another light. Those boys were not worthy; they could not handle me and therefore had to look elsewhere for a potentially lesser woman. I am the sword in the stone waiting for the right knight to set me free from my stone prison.
On a totally different note, I am completely in love with Poco’s “Keep On Trying”. If you have never listened to it, give it a try it’s an old school classic that you might enjoy.
She has recently split from her boyfriend of three years so as we artistically installed a toilet paper holder and began to clean her new apartment our talk naturally led to the boys that we have shared beds with. Recounting my past to a good friend who has been first hand to witness a couple of my juicy stories was like looking through an old photo album – it’s full of all kinds of memories: some beautiful, others ugly.
She called me her provocative friend and I’ll take that as a compliment. While I haven’t left a trail of broken hearts in my wake I have lived my adult life with a carpe diem M.O. If I see something I want and it is available to me I take it and don’t see a problem with that. To me I need as much of a connection with a guy physically as I do with their personality. Because of this I usually opt for running the bases faster than I probably should. I’d honestly rather know if the sexual chemistry is there or not before I get to know a guy really well and potentially fall for his personality to only wind up disappointed when things finally progress into the bedroom.
At some point during the night the following was brought to my attention: I propel guys in to committed relationships…. with other women. I truly do not know what to make of this realization. While it is not true with every guy I have had relations with, it has happened a handful of times. It makes me reflect about myself… I have said for years from my experiences that it seems like guys want to sleep with a redhead to see if the stereotypes are true, but they want to date a blonde or brunette. I don’t deny that there are many quirks that come with being a redhead that I wouldn’t have if I had been born with a different hair color. But I’d like to believe that my being a redhead ensures that the long haul will be a memorable one worth taking rather than just only good enough for a one-night test drive.
Is there something about me that is both the cause of a guy not wanting to be in a relationship with me but also the catalyst that causes them to rush out there to find a woman to be all heavy and serious with? That might be the most hurtful thing that could be said to me. I know I’m quirky and at times difficult, but at the end of the day to steal a line from a Julia Roberts movie: “After all... I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.”
If this realization is true, that I in fact push boys in to serious relationships with other women, well then I should start charging for my services! I don’t deny that it is slightly ironic, however I choose for the time being until proven differently to look at the situation in another light. Those boys were not worthy; they could not handle me and therefore had to look elsewhere for a potentially lesser woman. I am the sword in the stone waiting for the right knight to set me free from my stone prison.
On a totally different note, I am completely in love with Poco’s “Keep On Trying”. If you have never listened to it, give it a try it’s an old school classic that you might enjoy.
09 September 2007
“And on a rainy night two lover’s held each other tight”
Rain always puts me in a reflective mood. I’ll sit looking out the window, feeling the cool breeze play across my skin waxing nostalgic about my life. Sometimes I’ll think about the future, where my life is going, what adventure will happen next, but usually I think about what has been.
Lately I have been thinking about how amazing hindsight is. I have been flirting with a boy recently and made a comment that would direct his attention to my myspace blog. Knowing that I use it to work through whatever is going through my head I decided to breeze through my postings so that I could delete anything that would completely scare him away. I forgot I had taken care of that earlier when I made a New Year’s resolution to delete all my dark & pathetic posts when I was depressed at the close of 2006.
Doing so caused me to have an epiphany and I’m so thankful I have had this one. Everyone close to me knows I haven’t really dated before because I was never interested in opening myself up on that level. I had sex like a man and tried to keep the hookups void of any emotion. Yet that very action is a complete hypocrisy since I am a very emotional person. After awhile I became tired of hookups and started to yearn for something more, an actual relationship where I could open the gates to the walls I spent so many years fortifying.
In May of 2006 my life would change. I met a boy: as so many stories of romantic angst start and immediately I felt comfortable around him, I was not nervous; there were no butterflies, no jitters. It was like we slipped in to a routine before either of us knew it. From the start I could never put words to what drew me to him. In general he is not my “type”, whatever my type might be. If I hadn’t been introduced to him through friends I never would have even given him (as cliché as the saying is,) the time of day. We had a relationship even though it was not called one, for almost 7 months before he ended things and I had to deal with what most girls experience in their teens. Looking back now I’m embarrassed about how I initially reacted because I’m a much better and bigger person than that.
I knew it was the right thing, and after the immediate shock I quickly stopped missing him or wanting him to knock on my door asking for forgiveness. Yet there was always something that nagged me in the back of my mind that I could never quite figure out. This nagging feeling stopped me from being able to completely move on and put him in the dust behind me. Don’t read too far in to that statement, I had been over him for a long time at this point but I would still slip in to reflection about what went wrong every now and then.
That is, until Thursday when I began to read all of my blog postings I wrote during the time I was with him. They started a little under a month in and they are shocking for me to read now. I was not happy - with him or the “relationship”, and I was seriously mulling over ending it. This baffles me, they are my words set down so I cannot misinterpret them or recall my feelings differently. I cannot deny what I wrote about how I was feeling in the moment. So why did I not end things then?
Part of it was that I was scared of choosing to be alone after so many years of not sharing myself with someone. After all, maybe the unhappiness would fade and it was better than nothing. Ha! I was a silly girl who refused to listen to her gut, the one thing she should know she could always trust.
I was also naïve, I had never been down that road before, and I did not know how to play the game. I knew at the time that I also wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, give him a chance instead of jumping the gun to find out in the end I was wrong. The irony is that that’s exactly what happened anyway – I was wrong. I was wrong to ignore my gut, I was wrong to not stick up for myself and stop the insanity of being in an unhappy situation. Hadn’t I learned anything from Shakespeare? “To thine own self be true.” Yet I was far from that – I allowed myself to be lied to by him and worse, by myself.
I assume the important thing is that the light bulb finally went off, not how long it took to do so. I do not regret being with him nor do I regret the situation. There is no point in regretting how I acted since I cannot go back in time and do things correctly; but I do wish I had listened to what my gut was trying to tell me. After a tumultuous home life I would have imagined that once I was able to decide who would be in my life and who wouldn’t, that I would kick those who were not good enough for me out. If someone hurts me (emotionally or physically) they have no right to be in my world. Perhaps I’m just self-destructive.
I wrote a blog back in August 2006 that’s ending was the catalyst to all of my current enlightenment:
“The one thing that might have helped tonight I couldn't have nor could I ask for.
How to save a life?
Warm hands, strong arms, and assurances that everything will be ok. The power of human contact and a calm voice.
In the end I am alone, now and probably forever. Because who in their right mind would want to love someone unstable like me when there are plenty of 'normal' girls walking around. But I still have a childlike hope that I am wrong and that it will happen, that I'm not a lost cause just yet.
"I am on solitary sand, but in parenthesis".”
I feel sorry for the girl who wrote that and other blogs that summer. Because the truth of the matter is that that one thing I couldn’t ask for would not have been the answer, for I was relying on someone who didn’t deserve that level of my trust. It’s like in an emergency calling your fair weather friend… it makes no sense at all. I know this now and hope I can recall this lesson in the future so I do not repeat mistakes I have already made.
Some people have commented about how they do not understand why I choose to throw all my emotions out there for all my friends to read in my blogs. I never had a real response other than it’s what I felt compelled to do. Now I have a reason. I am so thankful that I did write all of those blogs so that I could have this moment of reflection because without it I would still be lying to myself.
So consider this final closure to that brief chapter of my life. I see now that he was not worth my time then and he certainly is not worth any more of my time now. I was a fool to ignore what I was feeling and to quickly settle for unhappiness.
I will no longer be a fool… at least not in the same way.
Lately I have been thinking about how amazing hindsight is. I have been flirting with a boy recently and made a comment that would direct his attention to my myspace blog. Knowing that I use it to work through whatever is going through my head I decided to breeze through my postings so that I could delete anything that would completely scare him away. I forgot I had taken care of that earlier when I made a New Year’s resolution to delete all my dark & pathetic posts when I was depressed at the close of 2006.
Doing so caused me to have an epiphany and I’m so thankful I have had this one. Everyone close to me knows I haven’t really dated before because I was never interested in opening myself up on that level. I had sex like a man and tried to keep the hookups void of any emotion. Yet that very action is a complete hypocrisy since I am a very emotional person. After awhile I became tired of hookups and started to yearn for something more, an actual relationship where I could open the gates to the walls I spent so many years fortifying.
In May of 2006 my life would change. I met a boy: as so many stories of romantic angst start and immediately I felt comfortable around him, I was not nervous; there were no butterflies, no jitters. It was like we slipped in to a routine before either of us knew it. From the start I could never put words to what drew me to him. In general he is not my “type”, whatever my type might be. If I hadn’t been introduced to him through friends I never would have even given him (as cliché as the saying is,) the time of day. We had a relationship even though it was not called one, for almost 7 months before he ended things and I had to deal with what most girls experience in their teens. Looking back now I’m embarrassed about how I initially reacted because I’m a much better and bigger person than that.
I knew it was the right thing, and after the immediate shock I quickly stopped missing him or wanting him to knock on my door asking for forgiveness. Yet there was always something that nagged me in the back of my mind that I could never quite figure out. This nagging feeling stopped me from being able to completely move on and put him in the dust behind me. Don’t read too far in to that statement, I had been over him for a long time at this point but I would still slip in to reflection about what went wrong every now and then.
That is, until Thursday when I began to read all of my blog postings I wrote during the time I was with him. They started a little under a month in and they are shocking for me to read now. I was not happy - with him or the “relationship”, and I was seriously mulling over ending it. This baffles me, they are my words set down so I cannot misinterpret them or recall my feelings differently. I cannot deny what I wrote about how I was feeling in the moment. So why did I not end things then?
Part of it was that I was scared of choosing to be alone after so many years of not sharing myself with someone. After all, maybe the unhappiness would fade and it was better than nothing. Ha! I was a silly girl who refused to listen to her gut, the one thing she should know she could always trust.
I was also naïve, I had never been down that road before, and I did not know how to play the game. I knew at the time that I also wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, give him a chance instead of jumping the gun to find out in the end I was wrong. The irony is that that’s exactly what happened anyway – I was wrong. I was wrong to ignore my gut, I was wrong to not stick up for myself and stop the insanity of being in an unhappy situation. Hadn’t I learned anything from Shakespeare? “To thine own self be true.” Yet I was far from that – I allowed myself to be lied to by him and worse, by myself.
I assume the important thing is that the light bulb finally went off, not how long it took to do so. I do not regret being with him nor do I regret the situation. There is no point in regretting how I acted since I cannot go back in time and do things correctly; but I do wish I had listened to what my gut was trying to tell me. After a tumultuous home life I would have imagined that once I was able to decide who would be in my life and who wouldn’t, that I would kick those who were not good enough for me out. If someone hurts me (emotionally or physically) they have no right to be in my world. Perhaps I’m just self-destructive.
I wrote a blog back in August 2006 that’s ending was the catalyst to all of my current enlightenment:
How to save a life?
Warm hands, strong arms, and assurances that everything will be ok. The power of human contact and a calm voice.
In the end I am alone, now and probably forever. Because who in their right mind would want to love someone unstable like me when there are plenty of 'normal' girls walking around. But I still have a childlike hope that I am wrong and that it will happen, that I'm not a lost cause just yet.
"I am on solitary sand, but in parenthesis".”
I feel sorry for the girl who wrote that and other blogs that summer. Because the truth of the matter is that that one thing I couldn’t ask for would not have been the answer, for I was relying on someone who didn’t deserve that level of my trust. It’s like in an emergency calling your fair weather friend… it makes no sense at all. I know this now and hope I can recall this lesson in the future so I do not repeat mistakes I have already made.
Some people have commented about how they do not understand why I choose to throw all my emotions out there for all my friends to read in my blogs. I never had a real response other than it’s what I felt compelled to do. Now I have a reason. I am so thankful that I did write all of those blogs so that I could have this moment of reflection because without it I would still be lying to myself.
So consider this final closure to that brief chapter of my life. I see now that he was not worth my time then and he certainly is not worth any more of my time now. I was a fool to ignore what I was feeling and to quickly settle for unhappiness.
I will no longer be a fool… at least not in the same way.
Echoes
So I have decided to change it up a bit and move my blog outside of myspace for the serious stuff. Check back to find my views on life and love and how I suck at both.
Until then, I thought I would start things off with a little bad poetry that I wrote back on 3 April 2007.
Echoes
Bouncing around inside my head like an old arcade game
Simple images go back and forth, slowly, repetitively - constantly.
An inner monologue that has taken off while my mouth is closed tight.
How tight and for how long?
The tapestry of my mind begins to look like one of those dot paintings
Cohesive from far away but a mess of small splotches of color up close.
48 hours of almost complete silence allow my inner voice (voices?) to wander.
Am I making the right choices with my life, am I doing the right thing?
Echoes of worries that never end; never go away.
Work, boys, friends, debt, sex, bills, love, money
A river of emotions each it's own ball bouncing off the walls of my mind.
Little pinging noises as they turn to go the other way like a swimmer doing laps.
I am an over-thinker
Silence does not bode well for those who tend to live in their minds.
Did I learn anything from The Yellow Wallpaper?
Those with too many thoughts need to find a medium to release them.
I am not seeing things in the wallpaper, there are no images creeping in the pattern.
I think things, wave upon wave of what ifs crash in to my mind.
Lady Macbeth cursed for the spots of blood on her hands to disappear.
Spots that only her mind could see, a way for her conscience to express its guilt.
Do I want these echoes gone?
Perhaps they build character, make me stronger.
Or they could be slowly eating away at my sanity, chunk by chunk taken away.
The echoes are a part of me - they are me.
Think happy thoughts and you will fly,
At least that is what Peter told the Darlings.
Think happy thoughts.
Happy thoughts think.
Think thoughts.
Happy.
Thoughts.
Thoughts echoing inside my head as I stay verbally reticent.
The echo is a silent scream.
Until then, I thought I would start things off with a little bad poetry that I wrote back on 3 April 2007.
Echoes
Bouncing around inside my head like an old arcade game
Simple images go back and forth, slowly, repetitively - constantly.
An inner monologue that has taken off while my mouth is closed tight.
How tight and for how long?
The tapestry of my mind begins to look like one of those dot paintings
Cohesive from far away but a mess of small splotches of color up close.
48 hours of almost complete silence allow my inner voice (voices?) to wander.
Am I making the right choices with my life, am I doing the right thing?
Echoes of worries that never end; never go away.
Work, boys, friends, debt, sex, bills, love, money
A river of emotions each it's own ball bouncing off the walls of my mind.
Little pinging noises as they turn to go the other way like a swimmer doing laps.
I am an over-thinker
Silence does not bode well for those who tend to live in their minds.
Did I learn anything from The Yellow Wallpaper?
Those with too many thoughts need to find a medium to release them.
I am not seeing things in the wallpaper, there are no images creeping in the pattern.
I think things, wave upon wave of what ifs crash in to my mind.
Lady Macbeth cursed for the spots of blood on her hands to disappear.
Spots that only her mind could see, a way for her conscience to express its guilt.
Do I want these echoes gone?
Perhaps they build character, make me stronger.
Or they could be slowly eating away at my sanity, chunk by chunk taken away.
The echoes are a part of me - they are me.
Think happy thoughts and you will fly,
At least that is what Peter told the Darlings.
Think happy thoughts.
Happy thoughts think.
Think thoughts.
Happy.
Thoughts.
Thoughts echoing inside my head as I stay verbally reticent.
The echo is a silent scream.
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