Dating Demands

Ready to get back in the dating game. That was fun-- only this time I have a more specific list of demands and they are as follows...1) Be all the way single, not just partly 2) Be a cultivator of gardens, not a indiscriminate sower of seeds (like how I put that one?) 3) EDUCATED, EDUCATED, EDUCATED and not just in the School of Hard Knocks-- need a 4+ yr degree or 4+ years of military experience AND working on a degree 4) Have a backbone 5) no mommy/daddy issues 6) Must have friends outside of family 7) If there is a mother of your child, she must understand that's her only position in your life 8) Yes, eight. In fact, more than eight (they say every relationship helps you realize what you want) but I'll just stop there.

Not Nearly Good Enough

Maybe I shouldn't write this post as I'm pms-ing and feeling a little emotional, but it's something that's on my mind today and where else can I share this but on my mental vomit page.

Sometimes, I don't feel good enough. Sometimes, I feel like I'm that kid again who is always picked last to join a team in p.e. No one knows what I'm capable of, how special I truly am, and they hardly ever take the time to find out.

What got me thinking about this is my drive home. This is the time when my thoughts have free reign to flit about my brain because, when I drive on a one-way street, my mind is on autopilot. So I think. A lot. And today, listening to a song that reminded me of my ex-boyfriend, I thought about how good I was for him. But he let me go. This got me thinking about movie roles I handled better than my competition but I didn't get because the director wanted a named actor. I'm usually first in line for the role but for that reason. This got me thinking about this past weekend's speech contest. The judges all came to me afterward, telling me how great my speech was and how it was the best organized and the best written, yet I didn't place first or second. I do blame the fact that I procrastinated so my delivery wasn't smooth and that I was the most under dressed of the contestants because I wore jeans ( wasn't told about a dress code).

***so I wrote this post on my phone, even finished it, but the finished product disappeared as I clicked published. So this post will be left unfinished b/c I lost the sentiment of what I wrote. Just know it was good.***

Love Lost

It's been another water cooler weekend on Facebook, discussing Rush Limbaugh's latest media attention ploy, the Republicans' latest attack on single mothers, and the deportation of an outstanding student whose father is a citizen and whose brother is not only a citizen but a member of our armed forces. Since I've already hashed my opinions of those subjects within the confines of Facebook, I won't talk about them here-- except to say, I think Rush is a misogynistic idiot, those conservative Republicans need to "phone home" since they, apparently, never had a mother, and that student is a greater demonstration of what it means to be American than some of these naturalized offspring that take up space in classrooms across the country.

The purpose of today's blog will not be to discuss those things but to, rather, answer one of life's questions: is it better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Maybe I don't have enough experience in this area, considering I've only fallen in love once, but I have to agree with the latter half of that statement. I would rather have not known the sweet joys of love than to know the everlasting emptiness of loss.

I say this because I miss it terribly. I miss being in a relationship where a man looks at me as if I'm his last meal; I miss being in a relationship where hands hone in to each other against the airiness of space and clasp together like heat-seeking missiles; I miss the possessive feel of his arm draped across my back; I miss  being able to drop the pretense of strength and lean on the physical and emotional support of someone else. I miss being his girl, excuse me, woman.


I would have rather not known how any of that felt because now I'm only left with memories and loneliness.

I wasn't lonely before we got together. I was working on me, becoming the best me that I could be by finding joy in each day and seeking new experiences. He caught me in the midst of claiming my happy and I resisted falling for him as long as I could-- partly out of stubbornness, mostly out of fear.  But, once I undug my heels, I soared with the knowledge that someone liked me for me-- snores, sarcasm, and all, and that I could actually feel the same for someone other than family.

But now that we are no longer an us, I just don't know what to do with myself. I want to feel that way again and really look forward to having a new relationship but I no longer feel like my sexy confident self. As I've stated before, I've gained back just 14lbs short of the weight I lost last year (I met him at my smallest) and I no longer feel desirable. What man will want me when I don't even like the way I look or the way my body feels? The high blood pressure has returned; the snoring's gotten worse-- dr. thinks I have sleep apnea; I'm even experiencing heartburn after every meal again.

I miss my sexy.

I miss the sleek strength of my legs, which were toning up to greatness. I miss cinching the belt to its very last hole (or having to create a hole) and seeing the hour glass figure reflected in the mirror. I miss running without gasping for air. I really miss the confidence all of that brought.

I really miss my sexy.

So, I guess, not only do I miss being in love with someone and having them in love with me, I, also, miss being in love with myself. *Sigh* Ah, cue the tears.

QoMV

Procrastination Problem (UN)Solved: My 7th ToastMasters Speech

I'm failing miserably at my Lent sacrifice. I was supposed to give up procrastination, however, I am here, still in yesterday's clothes, surfing the web, playing Hidden Chronicles on Facebook, and watching other people give speeches on YouTube when I am supposed to be preparing my own speech for today's speech contest. Yes, you read correctly: I said preparing as in I still don't know what I'm talking about for a contest that is in just 2.5 hours.  And I have to leave the house in 1 hour. And I have to still shower, wash my hair, dry my hair, and WRITE my FRIGGIN' speech and practice it in just that short amount of time.

Procrastination Nation.

I've known for 4 days that I was entering this contest. I had procrastinated at work so much that I was/am behind grading so that took precedence. Plus, I still had to teach when I had classes. Yet, I had time when I got home. Now I'm procrastinating STILL by telling you that I'm procrastinating instead of writing my speech. So now, I write my speech and hope it fits the 5-7 minute criteria.

Without further delay, my speech.

Spongebob: A Life Coach (revised-- the video to the original *horrible* one is here)

I love cartoons. On a typical Friday night or Saturday afternoon (my kids rarely see the sun rise on a weekend), you can find me on the couch with my legs drawn up and a son or two snuggled beside me, watching the inventive antics of Disney's Phineas and Ferb on the small screen. This is hardly different from my childhood growing up. I watched cartoons religiously: Ducktales, Looney Toons, Dark Wing Duck, Animaniacs, Ren and Stimpy, Jem and the Misfits, HeMan, you name it. I just loved cartoons.

Now many people may feel like cartoons are a waste of time but I beg to differ. Cartoons are very valuable, not only for the creation of imagination but also as a way of reviewing and improving life. Today, I'm going to explain to you just how integral cartoons are by examining Spongebob Squarepants as a life coach.

There are over 300+ episodes of this Nickelodeon cartoon, chockfull of lessons, however, for the purpose of this speech, I am going to focus on just one episode: The Bubble Stand. In this episode, Spongebob opened a bubble stand, similar to childhood lemonade stands, selling $0.25 lessons for blowing bubbles.

Squidward Tentacles, Spongebob's uptight neighbor, ridicules Spongebob for the idea but plops down a quarter for the privilege of blowing a bubble, refusing to take a lesson from Spongebob, after all what does a kid like Spongebob know about blowing bubbles. So Squidward dips the wand into the soap solution, lifts it to his lips, and blows, creating nothing but spittle and a bubble dud. He drops quarter after quarter, repeating the same action and getting the same results. I believe, that's the definition of insanity, no?

Spongebob finally demonstrates his technique, doing a funky little dance with his arms and bringing "it around town", before dipping the wand into the bubble canister then blowing out one spectacular bubble.

After many more futile attempts, Squidward, mockingly, tries Spongebob's technique and, lo, he produces one extraordinarily large bubble which lifts him far off the ground.

After watching this cartoon, it struck me how similar to society Squidward is. He has his traditional way of doing things, refusing to even consider another way. I also realized how much I have been trying to be like Squidward when I should have been trying to be more like Spongebob. I've been dipping my own wand into the bubble canister and trying to blow bubbles in the traditional way and, I, like Squidward, kept coming up with duds. But my heart has been longing to do that funky dance, to bring my dreams "around town", before blowing them into visible reality.

I went to the University of Miami, got an English degree, and am now a teacher, and have been for seven years. But what I really want to be is who I've always been: a performer, a writer, and a mentor. Teaching was the traditional and, until recently, stable route. But my desire is to walk down the dark alley of the road less taken, leaving my own trail and creating my own legacy, my own unique bubble.

Let me ask you: how many of you are stuck, trying to do things the way society has dictated: go to school, get good grades, go to college, be a doctor/lawyer/teacher/etc, get married, have kids, sit on the PTSA, send your kids to college, retire comfortably before taking your exit of this Earth-- in that order? How many of you long to take the nontraditional route, to make your way, to fail and make mistakes, to fall and get back up more experienced and better prepared to create your dreams? How many of you are really Spongebob?

Life is filled with Spongebobs, people who did things their own way.

Walt Disney, the man who gave us Mickey Mouse, was told he "lacked imagination and had no good ideas"; Thomas Edison, the father of the lightbulb and countless other inventions, was told that he was "too stupid to learn anything"; JK Rowling, the brain behind Harry Potter, was turned down by 12 publishing houses before her book was picked up and, even then, she was told to get a day job because she wouldn't have much of a career as a children's book writer.

This list of life's Spongebobs goes on and on and on: Albert Einstein, Johnny Depp, Oprah Winfrey, Tyler Perry, George Clooney, Sarah Palin, Socrates, ee cummings, Winston Churchill, President Barack Obama, Steve Jobs, Vince Lombardi, Fred Astaire, Michael Jordan, Steven King, Charlie Chaplain, Beethoven, Hank Aaron, Judy Blume, Jackie Robinson, and so many, many more.

If you're a Squidward, be a Squidward. But, if you're a Spongebob, don't be afraid to be a Spongebob. Blow your bubbles your way. As life shows us, you'll be amongst good company and that's not a bad life lesson to learn.

QoMV

UPDATE Randomness: I found a tumblr page dedicated to the BubbleStand episode.

The video below drives the point home even further:

Spongebob episode (can't find one that's normal speed):

Watercooler Weekend

I've had some really interesting online conversations this weekend. One was regarding the lack of diversity in roles for ethnic persons. The other was about being a single mom. Both topics are very dear to my heart.

Aaaaand I found out my car has a crack in the radiator which made buying that Honda Pilot all that much more of a good move for me.

Aaaaaaand I'm entering a Toastmasters competition next weekend.

Annnnnd I'm in dire need of another line of income.

I saw Ghostwriter II. The storyline had potential. The camera work was distracting. And Nick Cage really needs to lay off the one-note acting. However, the movie had some good funny parts. C+. I, also, saw Good Deeds. It was ok, just ok. It wasn't GUHREAT as the masses would have me believe but it was pretty good. The sex scene was disturbing. Thandi Newton really overdid the screaming. But I feel this was Gabrielle Union's best work to date. Movie gets a B-/C+ from me.

I'm sleepy. G'nite.

QoMV

TGIFriday!!!!!

I'm so ready for summer vacation.

I'm tired of dealing with parents who won't allow their children to make mistakes and learn from them. Tired of working with the result-- children who think power is being able to threaten an adult if they don't like a mediocre grade they earned for mediocre work in a class. Tired of not being supported. Tired of trying to stop a tidal wave with my hands.

So, so, so very tired.

I want to know what it is to sleep 7-8 hours without threat of being late, to dream again, to just feel peace sinking in my soul.

I've got quite a bit more to write but I'm just so tired.

Quick note: I bought a newer vehicle, a 2008 Honda Pilot. After reading numerous reviews, it seemed like a good choice. It just means that money is going to be VERY tight unless I figure out a way to create some new income, get a better paying job, and/or find someone who is making at least what I'm making, preferably more.

Climax, the Story of My Heart

As you don't know, I just experienced a pretty nasty breakup. We went from being kissy lovey in the morning to being text-terrorists with sundown. Neither one of us thought to call the other to clear up the misinformation/miscommunication caused by the texts (for the record, no one can hear your joking tone on a cell phone screen so a joke in bad taste is just open for misinterpretation). The anger over the texts led to deeper things being revealed and the way I felt could pretty much can be summed up with one word: shit. Actually, this phrase works better: lost as shit. Because I was. So. Lost.

It all happened so fast; It was like I'd been standing inside that Lion King wilder beast stampede, looking for a naked tree to hug, and, at the end of the rush, I was staring at the lifeless body of Mufasa, er, I mean our relationship. Flat-line. No chance of revival. He just let me go. Just like that. *Snap* Boy, how stupid.

Anyway, in the midst of my tearful tsunami, I heard the new Usher song, Climax, on the radio. I thought he had ripped a page out of my heart and sang its forlorn words for the world to hear. It's become the theme song to my short-lived first romance (yes, first at the age of 31). And the craziest thing about it all, is that the night we definitely broke up (Valentine's Day) is the day Usher released the song. How fitting. See the lyrics below:


USHER -- CLIMAX LYRICS.
Going nowhere fast.
We've reached the climax.
Were together, now we're undone.
Won't commit so we choose to

Run away. Do we separate?
Don't want to give in
so we both gave up.
Can't take it back.
It's too late; we've reached the climax, climax.

I've falling somehow, feet off the ground.
Love is the blow that keeps raining down.
Where are you now when I need you around?
I'm on my knees but it seems we're

Going nowhere fast.
We've reached the climax.
Were together, now we're undone.
Won't commit so we choose to

Run away. Do we separate?
Don't want to give in
so we both gave up.
Can't take it back.
It's too late; we've reached the climax, climax.

I gave my best, it wasn't enough.
You came and said we argue too much.
We made a mess of what used to be love.
so why do I care, I care at all, at all, at all, at all.

Going nowhere fast.
We've reached the climax.
Were together, now we're undone.
Won't commit so we choose to

Run away. Do we separate?
Don't want to give in.
So we both gave up.
Can't take it back.
It's too late; we've reached the climax, climax.

You say, it's better if we love each other
separately.
I just need you one more time.
I can't get what we had out my mind.
Where are you now when I need you around?
I'm on my knees but it seems we're going

Going nowhere fast.
We've reached the climax.
Were together, now we're undone.
Won't commit so we choose to

Run away. Do we separate?
Don't want to give in
so we both gave up.
Can't take it back.
It's too late; we've reached the climax, climax.

Yes! Yes! Yes! That's exactly how I felt and still feel a week and a half later. There's no turning back. No making up. I'm not that forgiving and I don't think he is either. We're too much alike for apologies. And too different for reconciliation. I would be utterly amazed if I had to eat those words. Anyhoo, enjoy the song below.

QoMV