I have come to the conclusion that I should never live alone. Why you ask? Is it because I need constant companionship? Nope. Apparently, when left to my own devices I always seem to find a way to create some form of dangerous chaos for myself. I am thoroughly convinced that my body would only be found when someone noticed a very weird smell coming from my home.
Case in point, yoga clothes. I honestly cannot remember the last time my yoga clothes actually SAW a yoga class or any pose other than “Sleeping baby” and “Netflix Viewer”, but they are oh so comfortable. I wear them pretending that perhaps I may just drop into a pose at a moment’s notice, and become more Zen.
Stop by my house any evening and I totally look like I am about to go all Warrior pose on your ass. Just ignore the fact I am most likely eating Cheeto’s and or drinking a glass of wine, maybe both at the same time if it has been been a really rough day…
I just get stuck in them, literally (The clothes, not the wine or Cheeto’s).
There have been many times that the HG has had to rescue me from being suffocated from a yoga tank that is somehow stuck on my face, arms stuck above my head or behind my back crashing around the house in a blind panic. You would think that at my age I would be able to dress myself…
Me *insert muffled screams* “HELP!HELP!”
HG “Um, seriously?” (as he pulls the tank down over my head)
Me “These clothes should come with warning labels”
HG “how do you survive when I am not here?”
Me “Am I too old to have a Nanny?”
How the Hell did I get here day…Oh, I have just lost count at this point.
I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason. That the universe has a master plan for all of and every choice we make with our free will either leads us to, or away from our intended destination. When life is going grand, it is of course much easier to see the good in everything and rejoice in our blessings. When life is looking bleak it is much harder to try and understand why we are facing our current shitastic circumstances.
However, if we take a moment to ponder our life’s journey up until today, what fabulous adventures and people would we have missed out on had we not had to climb up that hill or made it through that storm? I would not give up a single experience because I do not know what it would have changed in my life. How different I would be. Where I would be.
Our scar’s and mended hearts should be worn proudly, badges of honor. The fact that we get up in the morning and look another day in the face, even in our darkest moment is a true testament that as human beings, we are survivors. Just as the memories that make us smile should be given thanks for everyday. The fact that we experienced something that has given us joy.
The simple twist’s of fate that happen to us everyday should not be underestimated.
Occasionaly, I like to review the older stuff I have written, esp when it was during a rough patch. It’s nice to remember how far I have walked…
”Look for God, look for God like a man with his head on fire looks for water” EPL
How the hell did I get here, Day Uno.
Aquiring independence is not cheap, nor is it for the faint of heart. I feel like Jacob Marley with the chains of my sins wrapped around my legs and a mile stretch of baggage that I have to carry. Realizing that I am for all intents and purposes the the captain of my ship, I also need to realize that there are turbulant, stormy waters that I have purposley sailed into. “Do Not Enter” ,”Warning, Stay Back!!!!!”, “Enter at your Own Risk”….how many of these signs have I just waved at as I passed by? My first step, I guess, should be that whole “looking at myself” thing…I must admit that scares me more than Oprah (admit it, you are scared of her too). Introspection; BUM BUM BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM. It is a nessecity and these chains and luggage have become heavy and bothersome and are keeping me from catching up to my true happiness. Ahhhhh, but which suitcase to unpack first? Which Skeleton to dance with and bid farewell? Which chain to bend back? I feel like I am at the threshold of maze, where anything possible is right around the corner waiting to jump out at me and yell “gotcha!”. Or, better yet, it is snowing, I am at a hotel in Sidewinder and Jack Nicholsen is chasing me thru said maze with his axe screaming that he doesn’t want to hurt me.
I fully understand that some of the items in my bag’s will not be horrific But there are things I have not wanted to look at or think about., like my Grandparents. They were my everything. I don’t relive or think about my time with them because it is painful. But those memories too, will be part of my independence. Unpacking and putting things in their proper place.
“Are you there God? It’s me, Becky, do you a few moments?”
Please allow me to set the scene for you…
Our corporate office has a very nice courtyard that is protected on all sides and has beautiful trees and plants and benches. Living in said courtyard are very friendly, Disney-like squirrels that will eat right out of your hand.
Friend 1-We should give the squirrels these old sugar cookies.
Me-That is a very good idea.
Friend 2 to Friend 1-you should give that squirrel an see if he will take it.
Me-No! That is too much cookie for 1 squirrel!
Friend 1 then proceeds to hand the squirrel the entire cookie
Squirrel “Thanks guys I am running off Now”
Me”NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Mr/Mrs Squirrel, I need to break that cooking into bits for you! *I then proceed to chase the squirrel…Once I stop in my chase and turn around, I notice people watching me…and not just my friends…
Friend 1-Do you really think the he understood you and was going to sit and wait?
Me-I think that squirrel is an asshole…
Lesson? You try to do the right thing, and you are just the girl chasing the squirrell for the cookie as your friends laugh…
Word’s have been my best friend, and my darkest enemy. I have always used them as a tool, whether I was reading or writing, they have always been a great escape and outlet.
Even with 2013 technology and most of my writing being electronic, there is something finite about it. Once a thought leaves your brain and travels thru you to become the written word, you cannot ever take it back, not truly. It has always irritated me that in a court of law, something can be “stricken from the record”. How the individuals in that room are supposing to “strike” from their memories?! I digress…
I have forsaken my writing for a very long time and for the life of me I cannot figure out why. Would I ever keep a true journal where I documented my entire life? Yeah…notsomuch. There are things that I do not wish to put down in any form of permanence. But I have missed my writing like a old comfortable blanket and I am glad to have it back again. What words I put down, remain to be seen…
Valentines day as a child was always filled with the preparations for the in class party at school.
1) Picking out invitations (Dear GOD let me find the Smurfs Or Snoopy)
2) Signing and addressing all the cards, feeling weird about giving them to some of the boys in class, while still hoping they give you one
3) Creating your “Mailbox” that will sit on your desk to collect your Valentines
4) remembering whatever treat you were signed up for
Ahhh the memories of being young and still enjoying the holiday
We are all a wee bit older now. We have all had our share of “Valentines Day sucks” moments, so why not have an adult version of the Kindergarten party at the office? Stroll with me thru this plan…
1) Still have to get the box of Valentines to address. However, this year I would be opting for the Hotel Transylvania ones. “Von’t you be my Valentine?” and really, how great would it be to get a Transformers Valentine from your boss?
2) Instead of regular candy, we all have to spring for the good stuff. (Godiva, anything from Europe with liquor, overly priced cupcakes from Just Baked)
3) Still have to create your mailbox, but whoever has the most creative, gets a $200 Gift Card to the local liquor store.
4) and the most important, when ever someone says “Valentine” everyone gets to a do a Jello Shot.
Personally, I think the work day would be much more enjoyable and it would have contain a dash of childhood magic and nostalgia.
Who is with me?
HG:”!@#$%$^!@#%!@#%” “Why do you feel the need to have 800 bathroom products in the shower?
Me: “Why would I use the same product everyday? My needs change” “Depending on how I am feeling, my entire bath experience could be vastly different from the day before.
H:-”Do I even want to know?
Me: “um, read the labels, I have Hair Rehab, Beer Shampoo, Honey Shampoo…Body Bars in yummy scents, Strawberry Smoothie Conditior”
Me: “Think of it like having a choose your own adventure every time you are in the shower!” “Do you feel more hippyish today or do you want to smell like salt water?” “Are you feeling festive and want to partake of the Mexican punch soap?” Plus, the Twilight body soap is VERY relaxing at night, and it has sparkles in it, like Unicorn magic”
HG: ” I really just want to take a shower and be clean without knocking crap over”
Me: “You seem a little stressed, you should use the massage bar and the citrus scrub”
a few hours later:
Me: “OMG! Lush is having a sale!” *proudly hold up laptop*
HG: “I give up, exactly what planet are you from?”
Me: “Top Secret, but doesn’t Mandarin Smoothie sound delish?”
A letter-poem to my nephew Ben….
On the day you were born…well it was FANTASTIC and AMAZING and MAGIC. (Imagine how your parents felt, I am just the crazy Aunt)
On the day you were born you made all of our hearts melt, a new kind of love that had never been felt. There was cheering and crying and laughter and smiles, a new baby was here, its a boy!!!! Surprise!!!!
On the day you were born as I was rushing to leave, I had a big fall, a big bruise on my forehead, a funny story for all.
On the day you were born, as I sat in a chair, your dad rushed in, with his big bushy head of hair. “It’s a boy, he is here!” he declared while grinning, these are his footprints, I have them right here!
On the day you were born, both of your Grandmothers cried, a little bit of themselves in your beautiful face and eyes.
One the day you were born, the best faces of all, were those of your parents, who kept staring in awe.
Dr. Seuss I am not, so this random letter poem is done, and on the day you were born, a big adventure was begun.
I want to preface this by saying that I am good at many things, even VERY good at some of those.
There are somethings that I truly am not good at.
Things that I am not good at include:
- Being Graceful
- Not Hot Gluing myself to things
- Polishing my own Toe Nails
Of those top 5, cooking is the WORST. I don’t like doing it, and I truly suck balls at it. All of this reader brings me to “The Importance of Garlic …and hiding your tracks”.
The Harley Guy was kind enough to place a beautiful roast and veggies into the crock pot to simmer and do whatever crock pots make things do for the entire day. In my mind, crock pots are modern day cauldrons that people fill with mysterious things.
I decided that I would be helpful and domestic and add garlic salt to it, to add yummy garlic flavor. Apparently if you just screw the top off the spice, you also remove that little safety plastic piece that ensures you don’t just dump a sand hill amount of spice onto your food. As I stood there, looking at the mound of garlic sitting on a piece of the roast in complete horror, I heard HG coming down the hallway. Instead of admitting what I had done, I decided the best possible solution was to quickly turn that piece of meat over and cover it with veggies. Feeling confident about my actions I left for the office.
Let us, gentle reader fast forward 10 hours. As I passed thru my garage I could already smell the garlic. By smell, I mean there there was a WALL of garlic perfume surrounding my home. Walking into my house it was as if 1000 garlic cloves had been baking all day. I like to think that I deserve an Oscar for totally acting like my nose wasn’t going to start bleeding from the smell. Sitting down to eat, I couldn’t take it anymore and I blurted out “ItriedtoaddgarlicbutthentheitjustspilledinthereandIdidn’tknowwhattodo”
HG “How about we have a new rule that whatever I am making in the kitchen, you just don’t touch it okay?”
Me”Garlic is really yummy and good for you though, right?”
HG “I thought the meat had somehow gone bad”
Me “But whoo hoo GARLIC!!!!!!!!! So good for you! Look at me taking care of my man!”
HG “Why didn’t you just wash off the meat?”
Me “ummmmmmmmmm, I panicked” “Like that time I melted the spatula making you breakfast”
HG “you melted a spatula?”
Me “Why are you not thanking me for being helpful?”
HG “Let’s just adhere to the new rule”
Me”BTW, we are out of Garlic Powder”
And this is why I should just stop trying to be helpful around the house…