What's Wrong With Misfits?

We're a couple of misfits
We're a couple of misfits
What's the matter with misfits
That's where we fit in!
We're not daffy and dilly
Don't go 'round willy nilly
Seems to us kinda silly
That we don't fit in.
We may be different from the rest
Who decides the test
Of what is really best?

One of my favorite holiday cartoons, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, was on last night.  I love that cartoon.  Mostly because I feel a kinship with Hermie, who wants to be a dentist instead of an elf, and with Rudolph, who was picked on for being different.

I have always been sort of a misfit.  I know I never quite felt like I fit in.  As an adult, I'm not entirely sure most days that I fit in now either.  Luckily, being odd and un-ordinary seems to be ok these days so I am not so ostracized.

I grew up in a very small town, as I've mentioned before.  I lived in a mobile home.  A single-wide mobile home.  My parents were uneducated laborers who did their best to keep us safe, fed and healthy.  My childhood, while not idyllic, was not bad.  Mostly because I never really noticed what we didn't have until I grew older.

However, I did notice that I didn't always fit in.  

For one, I was the token fat kid in a school filled with non-fat kids.  I think there was one other fat kid, but he was a bully and being a bully trumped being fat.  At school, I was bookish, shy, and introverted.  I was the kid who wanted to make my teachers proud and happy.  I always wanted to play with the other kids but never really knew how to initiate it so I'd do odd things or funny things to get attention.  I was also fairly competitive and would get good grades to get attention.  At recess, I was most likely to be found pounding chalkboard erasers on the side of the building or walking along the chain link fence by the playground, daydreaming about a better life, a different life. 

At home, I was less shy.  Kind of bipolar, actually.  I could be the perfect daughter one minute, then the bossy bad seed the next.  I could fight with my brother like the best of them.  I was kind of tom-boyish and stubborn.  I was picky and sometimes grouchy.  I spent a lot of time alternating between being very active outside to being almost vegetative inside.  I watched a lot of television.  I read a lot of books.  I listened to a lot of music.  Thanks to this, I have a wealth of useless information that only seems to come in handy while playing trivia games.  

I didn't have many friends until middle school.  All of my report cards in grade school had comments that I needed to come out of my shell and be more social.

So, when I watch Rudolph, I get lost in all of the social messages that I sometimes forget it's just a timeless children's cartoon about the magic of Christmas. 

I focus on Santa's eating disorder (refusing to eat) and Mrs. Claus's enabling (Eat, papa, Eat.  No body wants a skinny Santa.)  I empathize with the elf who is doing a job he doesn't like because he doesn't feel he has any other options, so when he's not being heard, he does a drastic move and runs away.  I don't know how many times I've gotten into my car and considered just driving until I'm totally lost some place (although, now that I have a Garmin, that might not be possible) and then start over.  

I get all warm and mushy when the little girl reindeer looks past Rudolph's red nose and develops feelings for him based on things other than appearance.  I feel sorry for Rudolph for not being allowed to hang out with all of the other reindeer because he has a red nose.  I feel sorry that his own parents are ashamed of him and try to make him be someone he isn't.  I feel envy for Yukon Cornelius who gets to travel the world and do whatever he wants.  But, in the end, Rudolph saves the day and everything works out.

In my life, I'm stuck some place between the North Pole and the land of misfit toys.  I haven't quite fully come to terms with my individuality and I still yearn to be a little more normal -- or at least be accepted and loved by someone who looks past the not-so-normal. 

I'm looking for my Yukon Cornelius, I guess, to help me find my way.  

Metaphorically.  The guy from the cartoon kind of creeped me out.

There's always tomorrow,
For dreams to come true,
Believe in your dreams
Come what may.

There's always tomorrow,
With so much to do,
And so little time in a day.

We all pretend
The rainbow has an end
And you'll be there my friend someday.

Pay It Forward

You don't owe me a thing, I've been there too
Someone once helped me out,
Just the way I'm helping you
If you really want to pay me back,
Here's what you do
Don't let the chain of love end with you

One of my favorite movies is Pay It Forward and I have a bumper sticker on my car that says "Practice Random Acts of Kindness."  I'm not a tree hugger and the only way I eat my granola is formed into the shape of a snack bar.

 However, I do believe in the power of good karma and paying it forward.  

Yesterday, my friend Janelle bought me lunch.  She said she was doing it because someone else had treated her earlier in the week.  Paying it forward.

Today, I donated $5 to the food bank.  It was my small way of paying it forward.

A few years back, I was the recipient of a major dose of holiday Pay It Forward.

It was winter 1996.  I had just moved into my first apartment in Columbus and was having a hard time finding a job.  I was working part time at a housewares store and interviewing like crazy to find a full time job.  I had originally moved to Columbus with a job lined up but the job fell through, else I wouldn't have moved.  I'm not really that much of a risk taker.

However, money was tight.  Things were far more expensive than I thought they'd be.  I was living off of a Sears credit card and watching my savings dwindle.  I would go to Sears and buy gift certificates (these were the days before plastic gift cards) with my credit card, then wait a few days and go back and buy a pair of socks or something inexpensive and get cash for the balance of the gift card. I had A LOT of black socks. A LOT.

I couldn't ask my parents for money.  They didn't have it and even if they did, they wouldn't have lent it to me.  They had been against my move in the first place.  

I do not like to admit failure.  Failure is weakness.  (I think I may have mentioned this before.)  But, there was a part of me that was scared crapless that I was going to have to give up my dream of starting over, starting new in Columbus.

I had enough money to make rent for December 1996 but I did not have enough money to make rent for January 1996.  About two weeks into December, I landed a temp position making $9.00/hr (it seemed like a million bucks) but there was no way I'd have my first paycheck before January rent was due.

I was about to give up and go back to Marietta when I told one of my cyber friends about the issues I was having.

A few days later, I started to get envelopes in the mail.  Envelopes with money in them.  $5, $10, $20....  I felt like Jimmy Stewart at the end of It's A Wonderful Life when everyone shows up to give him money to save his bank.

One of my cyber friends shared my story with my other cyber friends (I had been really active in a friendship forum on CompuServe) and they all pitched in to help me.  One of my closest friends sent me a blank check and a note that told me to "fill in the balance".  By the time January 1 rolled around, I had enough money to pay my rent and utilities for January.  Another friend sent me a book and a crisp brand new $100 bill for Christmas.  I carried that $100 bill around with me for months as a good luck charm and as proof that I was going to be okay.  I thanked everyone over and over and said prayers for such good friends.  These were people who hardly knew me.  I had only met a few of them face to face at the time of such generosity.

One of them told me, when I offered to pay her back, "Look, someone is going to need something some day and you will remember this."  

Fifteen years later, I'm still trying to repay their generosity.  I have a hard time accepting kindness from people.  I feel like I don't deserve it and that there are people who need it more than me.  But, when it happens, I am so grateful.  I feel embarrassed for awhile but then jump in and try to help others so that I don't feel selfish and greedy.

I give cash to people holding "I'm homeless" signs even though a small part of me thinks they probably won't use it for food like they say.  I donate to animal shelters.  I give to food banks.  I toss my loose change into the thing hanging off of the McDonald's drive through window.  I buy cookies from Girl Scouts and give them away to co-workers.  I "round up" when grocery stores offer the ability to "round up" and donate the difference to charity.  I've put money in parking meters for people I don't know. I buy gifts and trinkets for friends just to put smiles on their faces.

I totally believe in paying it forward and thank my friends (some of which are on my Facebook friend list) who helped me realize a dream 15 years ago.

Today, another friend helped me out again.  Not financially.  Spiritually.  She gave me some advice that I really needed to hear and I'm grateful for it.  She didn't have to do it and I will not be able to repay her for it.  But, I am grateful.

Now, it's your turn.  

Whose life will you change with a small act of kindness?

What Does the Future Hold?

Pennies in a well, a million dollars in the fountain of a hotel.
Fortune teller that says maybe you will go to hell.
But I'm not scared at all...hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm

The cracks in the crystal, the cracks in the crystal ball.

Sometimes you think everything is wrapped inside a diamond ring
Love just needs a witness and a little forgiveness
And a halo of patience and a less sporadic pace and
I'm learning to be brave in my beautiful mistakes.

Everyone has that one thing that when you find out about it, you pause and go "Oh wow.  I never would have thought that about you."

Mine is that I believe in psychic ability.  

I've always been a superstitious person, intrigued by astrology, rituals, white light and forces greater than you and me that guide us.  As far back as I can remember, I've always read my horoscope, checked compatibility charts and checked the moon phases to help explain weird mood behavior.

I know many people scoff psychics and I'm sure psychic ability is based more on a person's intuition and ability to pick up on vibes than it is about closing the eyes and magically "seeing" the future.

I believe everything happens for a reason and that there are powers and forces guiding us to our destiny.  I believe in fate and signs.  I believe that the power of positive thinking and white light can help a person through a rough time just as much as prayer can.

I have had my "fortune" told three times in my life.  

The first time, I was in my early 20s, living in Marietta, Ohio and working in child care.  I lived in a boarding house with several other women.  One of the women worked in a nursing home and told us about this woman there who could "read" people.  Out of curiosity, I went to visit my house-mate at work and she introduced me to the woman.  The woman held my hand and then told me that she saw a few things about my future life.  She said that the letter "K" was going to be significant in who I marry and that I would not have any children of my own, but that I would help raise a daughter.   Intriguing for sure.  I remember telling my friends and co-workers about it and of course, it became a joke to them.  "Oh, watch out for those guys you meet at K-mart... Kroger... Knights Inn...."  I filed it away. 

The second time was while I was living in Columbus.  A co-worker told me about a woman who did readings from her home who gave you a cassette recording (yes, I still have the cassette) of your reading.  I think I paid $50 for 30 minutes.  The woman knew nothing about me prior to my visit.  I hadn't given her any information other than my first name.  I used my work phone number so that she couldn't "look me up" or do homework before I arrived.  She asked me some questions about my life, which kind of bothered me because I wanted to say, "You're the psychic.  You tell me."  But, I know not everyone has the same kinds of abilities.  She used Tarot cards and palm reading as her main tools.  After a few moments, she finally spoke and told me that she saw long-distance travel in my near future, a marriage later in life and that my relationship with my father would be a driving force in future relationships.  She said a few other things but, to be honest, they were vague and didn't make much sense to me.  The entire reading, except for the part about my dad, was rather vague.  I didn't do any sort of traveling near the time of the reading.

The third time was at a holiday party for work, right before I moved to Virginia.  They hired a fortune teller and I decided to take a stab at it.  I had one of my co-workers sit with me as a "witness".  The woman had no way of knowing me or anything about me prior to the session.  I expected some fluffy promises about good fortune and holiday cheer.  After all, it was a work function.  She could have been a hotel employee for all we knew.  However, this was not the case.  Within a couple of minutes, the woman told me that there was a male in my life who had a negative influence and hold over me.  She told me that he was cruel and manipulative and that he often took credit for my achievements.  She then said a letter of the alphabet that she was seeing and sure enough, the guy I was interested in at the time, had a name that started with that initial.  He was cruel and manipulative and he did try to take credit for my achievements.  The woman shook me to the core.  My co-worker was quite speechless as well.  The woman told me that I needed to end the relationship and move out of his power and that he was not the one for me.  She said that as long as I was with him, I'd never be able to live the life I was destined to live.   I had been at a turning point and had been in the process of breaking away from the person so her words hit me right where it mattered.  She told me, as well, that there was someone for me, but that it wasn't him and it wasn't soon.  She said I had to get to know myself again before I'd be ready for a serious relationship.

So, that said, the past couple of months, I've been getting "spam" emails from a "psychic" telling me that she has urgent news for me.  How she got my email address, name and date of birth is beyond me but probably from some Facebook app that pulled information or some other product or service sold my information.  I kept deleting them.

Then, a few days ago, I opened one of the emails out of curiosity and it basically said that someone was trying to harm me and that she wanted to help me before it was too late.

I clicked the link to "purchase" the reading and "safety" ritual she promised to provide me.  It was $15 and I blow that on lottery tickets in a month so I decided what the heck -- decided it would be good blog fodder if nothing else.

I got the results/reading today.  I have to admit, some of it was kind of disturbing.  It said that there was someone in my life who is threatened by me and has decided, within the past few months, to try to harm me, my reputation and the respect that others have for me.  The psychic cautioned that it may or may not be someone who immediately comes to mind and that I may not even be aware of the damage being done.  The reading went on to say that this person may not even be aware themselves of the damage they are doing and that the harm is being caused as a result of other actions they are taking, possibly to protect themselves.  

The psychic then offered up a ritual to rid myself of the bad energy to to cloak myself in a protective shield that will keep this negative energy from corrupting my intrinsic good energy.

I needed to buy a few things that a trip to the local health food/holistic store today provided: a white candle, some rosemary oil, some mint leaves...

I did the protection ritual tonight.   What the heck, right?   It suggested that I do it within a few days of a new moon (which was last night) and then carry around a photo of someone or something I want to watch over me until the next full moon and then the protection will be complete.

I'd like to bring back the positive energy I had surrounding me until a few months ago.  I'd like to rid my life of negative forces trying to keep me down.

The "psychic" may very well be a computer program that would generate the same response to you.

All I'm out is $15.  And the cost of a candle, some mint and some rosemary oil.

I'm willing to take the chance.

If it doesn't work, I still have the mint and rosemary oil.  They smell nice.

Thank You!

You've been so kind and generous

I don't know how you keep on giving

For your kindness I'm in debt to you

And I never could have come this far without you

So for everything you've done

You know I'm bound...

I'm bound to thank you for it

I want to thank you

For so many gifts

You gave with love and tenderness

I want to thank you

This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for:

Friends who know when to take themselves seriously and when not to take themselves seriously.

Friends who know when to take me seriously and when not to take me seriously.

Friends who seem to sense when I need a hug, laugh or smile.

Friends who open up to me when I sense they need a hug, laugh or smile.

Musical artists like Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat who can sing positive music that puts me in a good mood.

Musical artists like Adele who can sing songs that provide the perfect soundtrack for when I'm in a bad mood.

Selfless people who give to others without expecting anything in return.

Selfish people who make me appreciate the selfless people more.

Facebook for allowing me to spill my guts daily in 144 characters or fewer.

Blogger for allowing me to spill my guts almost daily with way more than 144 characters.

My 6 blog "followers" and 7 "email subscribers".  I am grateful to know someone reads what I write.  I know I shouldn't care if anyone reads it or not, but it somehow makes me feel good to know that someone is there to witness my life and will be there to tell my stories in the event I can no longer do so.

My health in a year where I've lost several former classmates who were far healthier than I am to sudden death.

Abby who loves me unconditionally and who lets me love her unconditionally.  I don't care if she's fat and she doesn't care if I'm fat.  She makes me laugh daily and I can always count on her at bedtime to cuddle up beside me and give me some kitty loving before we both fall asleep.

The Virginia Lottery Commission for giving me hope at least once a week that I will win the lottery some day and be able to quit the day job and challenge the adage that "money doesn't buy happiness".  I'd rather be rich and miserable than poor and miserable.  I'd at least have a personal chef, bodyguard, personal assistant and posse to share my misery if I was rich.

Boston Market for providing my Thanksgiving meal so that I can be a total bum all day tomorrow.

My part-time job for introducing me to a few other "smart allecky" types who help make doing the job fun.  I also appreciate the extra income it brings in.

New friends and co-workers who make going to work bearable.

The movie Crazy Stupid Love for making me realize that my heart is not frozen and that I do want to fall in love again some day.  With the male version of me (who has my "good" traits... not the "bad" traits.)


New TV shows like New Girl, Suburgatory, Once Upon a Time and American Horror Story for giving me something other than the typical and over-done crime shows to watch.  I'm happy to see that there is a show that celebrates being quirky and oddball.  Gives me hope that I will find the male version of me some day.
 
Ativan.  Such a tiny little pill but oh so helpful when panic attacks hit.

My strength.  I've had some rough patches this year.  That which does not kill me makes me stronger.  Soon, I shall be able to lift cars with one hand.

You.  You know why.  If you don't, ask me.  I'll tell you.

A Beautiful Mess

You've got the best of both worlds
You're the kind of girl who can take down a man
And lift him back up again

You are strong but you're needy, humble but you're greedy
Based on your body language and shoddy cursive I've been reading
Your style is quite selective but your mind is rather reckless
Well, I guess it just suggests that this is just what happiness is

I have been in a funky mood for over a month now.  I keep trying to shake it but it just won't go away.  I will have a good day then three crappy ones.  Another good day, then two crappy ones.  I want one week of good days.  Then, another and another.  I'd also like a winning lottery ticket.

I am the master of my destiny.  I am the controller of my emotions.  Why is it so hard to get back on track?

Six months ago, I had a decision to make.  I didn't really tell anyone about the decision but I made the decision and thought I had made the right decision. I had no regrets until recently.

The summer itself wasn't so bad.  I liked my job.  I made a new friend at work who made work fun and who seemed to have the same thoughts and feelings about work, friendship, relationships and life.  It was nice to have someone to talk to while I worked and someone who could help me conquer those mundane days with silliness.  Sadly, it didn't last.  But, it was fun for awhile.  I was going to the gym regularly.  I was losing weight.  I made some other friends.  I was fairly active and feeling good about things. I was making some money on my part time job.  I discovered I liked beer.  Really liked beer.  Saw some good movies.  Bought some new clothing.

Then, summer ended and things sort of went south.  Had some trouble with a close friend.  Stopped having fun at work.  Spent money I shouldn't have spent in Vegas.  Hours stopped being regular at the part time job. Realized I was sort of falling for someone I can't have.  Blah blah blah blah.

Now, there were a few bright spots.  The Jason Mraz concert was fantastic.  I enjoyed my trip to the DC area for a cooking show.

Every year, around this time, I start to get depressed.  I can usually just crawl into a hole and ride it out.  However, this year, I have a job that requires me to be "on" 9 hours a day, 5 days a week.  I can't crawl into a hole.  I can't just sit in a cubicle, do my job and avoid people.  I think it is magnifying my mood 100 times over because I honestly don't feel like dealing with people, talking to them, etc.

But, I'm trying.  Every day, I try a little harder.  

I was reading an article earlier that said when you feel like shit, you should make a list of all of the great things about yourself and read it over and over until you start to feel the words and feel better about yourself.

So....  hmmmm.....  let's try this.

I am smart.

I am witty.

I am creative.

I am a fantastic fur mommy.

I am giving.

I am a good cook.

I can usually find something humorous in even the most mundane things.

I am a good writer.

I am a quick learner.

I am reliable.

I am dependable.

I am loyal.

I don't tell secrets.

I don't like drama.

I am neat and tidy.

I am hard working.

I have vivid dreams.

When I fall in love, it's 100%.

I like to surprise people with gifts, cards, notes -- little things that say I love you.

I have a great memory.

I have an open mind.

I like to try new things.

I am not high maintenance.

I tend to give everyone second and third chances.

I have a bunch of interesting stories from life that I can usually work into life lessons.

I don't believe in lying or bullshiting.

I don't believe in being manipulative.

Having good friends and strong relationships are more important to me than money.

If I do win the lottery, I will be very generous because I can't imagine not sharing it with everyone I care about.

I am a problem solver.

I usually handle change fairly well.

I know what is important in life and when I die, I don't want "She worked 60 hours a day" on my tombstone.

I like animals.

I like kids.

Kids like me.

Animals like me.

I am nurturing and have maternal tendencies.

I don't mind 3:00 a.m. calls.

I am the kind of person who would drop everything for a person if he/she needed me.

I like to be needed.

I like to have fun.

I also like to just be alone and watch television, movies or read.

I am curious.

I am real.

I am genuine.

I am quirky at times.

I like having curves.

I have pretty eyes.

I have a nice smile.

I am a sharer.

You can trust me.

I am a good listener.

I am usually optimistic.

I am usually perky.

I tend to see the "silver lining" in things.

I am me.

When Are You?

It's so dreamy
Oh, fantasy free me
So you can't see me
No, not at all
In another dimension
With voyeuristic intention
Well secluded, I see all

With a bit of a mind flip

You're into the time slip 

I had a really weird dream last night.

In the dream, I was at work.  But, not the place where I work now.  The place was huge.  Rows and rows and rows of high walled cubicles, a lot of noise, chatter and other office-type noises.  It felt semi-industrial.  A female co-worker came up to me and asked me, "Did you get my email?" but before I could answer her, another woman came over and said, "I need to use your computer!" and pushed me aside.  My email was open and I was afraid she would see my personal emails.  

Then, my desk phone rang and the caller ID said, "Incoming call from Shawn."

I answered it and this male voice (which sounded a lot like a current male co-worker's voice, whose name is not Shawn) said, "Is your refrigerator running?"  I responded very professionally, "I'm sorry.  I can't speak right now.  I will call you later." and I ended the call.

Meanwhile, the one female co-worker was standing by my next waiting on me and the other one was typing furiously at my computer.

The phone rang again.  Incoming call from Shawn.  I answered.

"Do you know what the current market price for rice in China is?" the male voice asked.  Then laughed.  I again responded professionally that I couldn't talk and ended the call.  I made an apologetic face and shrugged at the female co-worker who was waiting so patiently for me.

The phone rang again.  Incoming call from Shawn.  "Hey, so are you going with us or not?" the male voice asked.  "Going where?" I asked, deciding the hell with the woman who may or may not have been my boss who was sitting 5 feet away.

"Wings.  I sent Deb over to see if you wanted to go.  We're going to Buffalo Wild Wings."  (The female co-worker in my dream really is a current co-worker, whose name really is Deb.)

"When?" I asked.  I looked at the female co-worker and mouthed "Wings?"  She nodded and pointed at the unread email on my computer.

"Now.  You going or not?" the male asked.  I responded yes and then told the woman using my computer that I had to go.  I walked away with the female co-worker.  We went in an elevator to the parking garage of the building and then climbed into a red car.  (I drive a green SUV and so does the female co-worker. My current job does not have an elevator or a parking garage.)

We were driving all over town, but it wasn't Virginia Beach.  It was this confusing town with narrow streets and oddly named streets.  I felt like I was in a foreign country.  It was very unsettling.

Then, my car phone rang and I pressed a button on my dash to answer it.  Incoming from Shawn.

"Hey, we're here.  Where are you?" he asked.  I told him I had no idea where I was.  I told him we were lost.

"Well, when are you?" he asked.  "When am I?" I asked, feeling confused.

"Yeah, I'm in 2021!" he said. 

"2021?" I repeated, shocked and amazed at the same time.

Then, I woke up.

Apparently I have time-traveling friends in my dreams. Time-traveling friends named Shawn, who sound like Gordon, and who invited me and another person to have wings. 

Ten years from now.

Like A Son

Everyone can see we're together
As we walk on by
And we fly just like birds of a feather
I'm not telling no lie

All of the people around us to say
Can we be that close
Just let me state for the record
We're giving love in a family dose, yeah

Twenty one years ago this past September, my first nephew was born. I loved loved being his aunt.  He was adorable and smart and I loved him like a son.  I was in college at the time so I didn't see much of him, but when I could see him, I soaked up every minute with him.

I bought him all sorts of toys and gifts as he grew up.

Then, things got a little rough.  I don't want to dwell into my family's deep dark secrets but let's just say that home conditions were not healthy and positive for him and his two younger sisters.  He would call me and tell me of some things and beg me to let him live with me.  I was not in a position to take on any children so I did what the mature, rational person inside of me should do, I encouraged him to tell his teachers, his friends, the parents of his friends -- anyone who would listen -- his story.  I contacted children's services.  

Long story short, he and his sisters were placed in foster care.  I had absolutely no doubt in my mind or heart that this was the best thing for them.  Yes, we all hear horror stories about "the system".  However, I just felt it in my soul that this would be the best thing for them.

My nephew was adopted by a loving family who believed in education and extra-curricular activities.  He was active in 4-H.  He excelled in school.  The nieces were adopted by a different family whom, I hear, gave them a decent life, too.

I lost touch with my nephew, mostly because my family did not know how to play nice with the social services agency and were bitter and angry towards the family who adopted him.  We were told that we were not to contact him or his family and that once he turned 18, if he wanted to contact us, he could.

He turned 21 this past September and reached out to my mom, who gave him my phone number.

He's been calling me this week but we keep missing each other.   To be honest, I was kind of dreading the call.   What do you say to someone you haven't talked to in over 12 years?  To someone who wanted you to adopt him? To someone who went through what they went through?  

But, I called him tonight and it was one of the best phone calls I've had in a long long time.

If I had a son, I'd like to think he'd be like him.  He's smart, funny and has a good head on his shoulders.  He has a good job with benefits.  He has his own place.  He has a girlfriend.  He has a truck that's paid for.  He's saving money to buy a house and/or get another truck.  An F350, Ford, Extended Cab.  That's his dream truck.  Dark blue.  I told him I know someone who has the exact truck he wants and he said he couldn't wait to own one.  I cautioned him that they are expensive.  He said he would work and save for it.

We talked a bit about the past and he told me, "I believe everything happens for a reason and that you can't let it hold you down."  He went on to tell me that he has no grudges, no anger.  He knows he had a good life and that if he had stayed with my family, he wouldn't have had the things he did growing up.  He said that he never truly understood how good it felt to be clean, to be safe and to be loved until he got adopted.   He's a very mature 21 year old.

He sounds like my brother.  He has the "Darnell" sense of humor.  But, the good news is - he inherited none of the bad qualities of my family and seems to have all of the good. Like me.

I told him that I never really fit in and that I was so glad to get away from there because I didn't like the "unhealthy" aspects of my life there.  He said he knew exactly what I was talking about.

For the first time in my life, I didn't wonder if I was some how switched at birth.  It was good to find someone who is "blood" related who is actually fairly normal and mentally healthy.

It was refreshing to have a conversation with a family member that didn't involve anger, ignorance, and frustration.

I have a message from my mother I need to return.

I think I'll save that for another day.

All I Want For Christmas...

I don't want a lot for Christmas
There's just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is... 

I think it's still much too early to be thinking about Christmas.  However, I looked at the calendar and next week is Thanksgiving.  Once that day arrives, Christmas is pretty much unavoidable.  Target has had Christmas decorations out since late September.  Guess they wanted to beat Wal-Mart and K-Mart.  

I joked about writing a letter to Santa this year and the more I think about it, the more I think why not?  Why should this be reserved for small children?  I'd sit on the man's lap if I thought it would help me be ho ho ho-ier and maybe get me something good.

I posted on Facebook that one of my favorite holiday movies is A BOYFRIEND FOR CHRISTMAS.  It's one of those heart-warming Hallmark movies.  I own it on DVD.  I remember when I bought it, I was so tickled to see the email from AMAZON that said "A BOYFRIEND FOR CHRISTMAS has shipped!"  I kept checking my doorstep for tall, dark and handsome with a big ole bow on him.  I settled for the DVD.

In 1998, I wrote a letter to Santa.  I asked him for three things:  to reconnect with an old friend, to find out if the "one who got away" really was "the one" (or was he just someone who "got away") and to fall in love.

By some fluke of holiday magic, I got all three things.  Not on Christmas.  That would be too weird.  But, pretty close.  First, it was the old friend.  Someone I hadn't talked to in years but whom had been one of my best friends in high school sent me a Christmas card.  She had gotten my address from my parents.  Tickled me pink to hear from her.  We wrote each other (she didn't have email) a few times but then lost touch again.  The next thing that happened was the "one who got away".  He was bored one night shortly before Christmas and called me because something he had heard or seen reminded him of me.  That made me smile.  But, alas, talking to him didn't warm my toes and tingle my heart...  or... warm my heart and tingle my toes.  We chatted and at the end of the call, I realized he wasn't "the one" and could put that fantasy to bed.  

Finally, the last one -- the elusive "love".   Found it with a male friend.  Didn't see it coming.  He would always come around to see me at work and offer to help me with things.  My friends saw "romance" before I did.  He definitely wasn't the kind of guy I normally fell for.  I kept protesting.  Everyone else kept encouraging.  I eventually listened to "everyone" else.  Long story short, I believe everything happens for a reason and everyone we meet happens for a reason.  I enjoyed the good bits.  Didn't enjoy the not-so-good bits. Obviously, it didn't work out or else I'd be writing about the "happily ever after".

I'm almost afraid to write another letter to Santa.  That whole "be careful what you wish for" thing.

All I want for Christmas is ....   you.

You - the good friend who lives close enough to get together for movie night, drinks after work or to go out to dinner.... and who gets along with my other friends, too, so we can all hang out on occasion.
You - the co-worker I know that I can trust 100% when I need to vent about work without worrying that you will see me negatively or tell the boss.

You - the soul mate who has a great sense of humor, brains in your head, a good heart, who loves me as I am and most importantly, "gets me" as I am.  (If you can cook breakfast, know how to fix cars and like cats, I'll be your love slave forever.)

You - the representative from the lottery commission or other sweepstakes company who gets to be the bearer of good news that I've really and truly won enough money to quit my day job and  pursue my dreams.

You - the person who would buy a book written by me.

You - the good neighbor who isn't too loud, who would pick up my mail and check on Abby and check on me if you don't see me around for a few days.

You - the child I hope to have some day so that I can be a kick butt PTA mom, classroom mom and chaperone on field trips -- before I get so old that all of the other kids think I'm your grandma instead of your mom.

So, Santa, if you are a fan of blogs, I've given you a challenge.  This is my letter to you, the granter of wishes and the keeper of dreams.

I'll leave some cookies out for you.  Just be careful in the chimney.  I think Abby's squirrelfriend might be living in there.

Once Upon A Time

Fairy tales can come true, it can happen to you
If you're young at heart
For it's hard, you will find, to be narrow of mind
If you're young at heart

You can go to extremes with impossible schemes
You can laugh when your dreams fall apart at the seams
And life gets more exciting with each passing day
And love is either in your heart or on it's way

I've been watching this new show called Once Upon A Time, about a bunch of childhood story characters transported to a modern-day world via a curse and a little boy who wants to break the curse and free the characters to live the life they were destined to live.  It's a pretty good show.  Good versus Evil.  Innocent versus Not So Innocent. 

When I was a kid, I loved fairy tales.  Rapunzel. Cinderella. Snow White. Sleeping Beauty. Then, later, it was Belle, Jasmine, Ariel.  They were smart, independent, kind, loving women who knew what they wanted and got what they wanted, without sacrificing themselves.  They had their convictions and stood by them.  I wanted to grow up and be a princess and find my prince and live happily ever after.  

Every summer, my family would visit this amusement park called Idelwild Park and there was a section of the park called Storybook Forest.  I would count down the days every summer until I could go to Storybook Forest.  Every childhood favorite could be found there.  I was always mesmerized by it.  Trying to pull Excalibur out of the rock.  Staring into the mirror mirror on the wall that had a hidden face.  The crooked man who lived in a crooked house.  The little old lady who lived in a shoe.

I could walk in and out of the pages of my favorite books and then chatter the entire car ride home about how I wanted to live there when I grew up.  I would lie in bed and imagine a world made up of my favorite characters... gingerbread houses, castles, bright colors, fun, fantasy....

I sometimes miss that innocence and hope.  That purity of thinking that everything will end up "happily ever after."

I've been kidded at times about having rose-colored glasses and for wishing and hoping for things that seem almost childish and immature.  I want a peaceful world with flowers and animals and butterflies.  I want to see rainbows and make wishes on stars and think that they might come true. I consider myself old-fashioned, a throwback.  I like romance and the potential that comes from fairy tales.  Real life fairy tales. 

I want to write my own story some day that starts out "Once Upon A Time"... (instead of "It was a dark and dreary night....").  I want the prince who saves me from myself and finds my innocent and hopeful outlook refreshing.  I want the carriage ride with beautiful graceful white horses.  I want the crystal blue lake filled with serene swans.  I want the castle on a hill, with fruit-bearing trees decorating the lush green lawns.  I don't want the wicked witch or the ugly stepsisters.  Although, to be fair, every good fairy tale has some sort of obstacle to overcome in order to reach the "and they lived happily ever after."

I could be a princess type.  Lord knows, I've encountered many wicked witch types and I've definitely met some obstacles head on.

It's my dream.  My fantasy.  My fairytale.

I'd like to think I'm not the only one.

Dirty Laundry

Dirty little secrets
Dirty little lies
We got our dirty little fingers in everybody's pie
We love to cut you down to size
We love dirty laundry

We can do "The Innuendo"
We can dance and sing
When it's said and done we haven't told you a thing
We all know that Crap is King
Give us dirty laundry!

I have over 200 friends on Facebook and I'm always amazed to discover that at least once a day, one of them (sometimes, more than one of them and sometimes, more than once per day), will post something negative or insulting about his/her partner, significant other, spouse, date, and/or potential date.

They just put it all out there.  For the whole world to see.  Including the person who is the source of their grief.

I know I'm prone to TMI but I am not the sort of person who will openly bash someone in a public forum just to try to make a point, or hope that they will stumble upon my words and feel inclined to respond.  I am far more subtle and crafty with my ways.  And, to be honest, lately, I've been more inclined to just take it up with the person directly instead of beating around the bush.  Innuendo, hints, vagueness...  they don't work.  Especially not with men.

Personally, I don't understand this need to put out there for everyone to see that you are upset or insecure about your partner.  If I were in a relationship with someone and he posted on his wall comments that made fun of me, insulted me, mocked me or told the world about some bad habit I have, I'd be looking for a new partner.  It's just not appropriate.  It's also not very mature.   I feel like I'm reading some dysfunctional diary when I click my "newsfeed" and see posts like:

"Told the bastard that I wanted to go to dinner.  He chose his friends."

"If you don't love me, then leave me, a$$hole.  I'm tired of your attitude."

"My husband is an idiot.  But I love him."

"If you loved me, you'd call me."

"Despite all of his issues, I still love my boyfriend."

Yes, these are some of the posts I've seen in the past week.  I cleaned up spelling, grammar, and language in some cases and took creative liberty with the exact words to protect the posters in the event they read this blog.  However, the sentiment is the same.  Negativity.  How can a relationship survive such negativity?  Why is there a compulsion to put this on a public forum?  I find myself feeling sorry for the poor soul who is the brunt of this pain.

I have a friend who is going through a nasty divorce and she has not blocked or unfriended her soon-to-be ex-husband.  Every day, there is some sort of "attack" on her wall about him and every other day, there is some sort of vitriolic response from him.  I had to block her posts because I couldn't stand how it was making me like her less, reading these nasty things.  There are children involved and I just hope that the two people are acting more mature in front of the children because I know first-hand what it is like to be stuck listening to two people who hate each other fight with each other constantly.  After awhile, you start to wonder if it's something you've done and depending on your age when you witness it, it can totally mess up your own approach to relationships and "happily ever after."

I guess I just believe there is a time and place for these things and a public forum like Facebook isn't it.  I rarely see the "Oh, I love my boyfriend/spouse/partner..." posts.  It's always something negative.  And not in a funny "Oh, that Bill, he accidentally mowed right through my garden again..." nyuck nuck way.  (shrug)  Makes me wonder how long the relationship will last.  Also makes me thankful that I don't act that way. Makes me sad that someone like me, who would treat a man I loved well, can't have someone when these mean people seem to have no problem finding people to frequently demean.

Earlier this week, I was talking to a male friend about the crazy things women do to get attention from their men -- from texting 100+ times a day, posting and tagging frequently on their FB walls, to publicly bashing...

His response was that he has the approach that every woman (and man) has some degree of crazy. He said that when he enters into a relationship with someone, he makes the decision about what kind of/degree of crazy he's willing to put up with.  I'd love to argue with him that it's a cynical stance to have and that not every woman is crazy (mostly to comfort myself, too) but the reality is -- I agree with him.

I've seen it day after day on Facebook.  Cheating men, lying women, lazy spouses, inconsiderate girlfriends, epic fails, bitchiness, cattiness...  It's exhausting.  And I'm not even the one in the relationship with these people.

All week, I've been trying to think about what my "crazy" is -- in the relationship sense.  Lord knows, I have many other degrees of crazy in other aspects of my life.

I'm fairly independent and as long as I feel confident that I can trust my partner, I'm not particularly clingy.  So, that's not my crazy.

I only use my cell phone to communicate when all other methods have failed and/or when I don't need an immediate response... so frequent texting and harassing isn't my crazy.

I don't feel the need to put out there on FB for everyone to read the exact angst I feel about a specific person, so that's not my crazy.  I've slipped a couple of times on there and on here and came close to bashing a specific person, but then deleted those posts/blogs because in all reality, that's not who I am.  I don't need the public sympathy and attention.  "Oh, poor Bev, he sounds like a loser...."  I'm not a mean person down deep.  So, that's not my crazy.

My kind of crazy, I realized, is that I get bored.  Quickly and easily.  Once I get past the initial "honeymoon" phase where I am attracted to everything he says and does, down to how he ties his shoes, I start to lose interest and try to provoke him into entertaining me, into making it more interesting for me.  As a new hire called it this week, it's the "Dance, monkey, dance!" syndrome.  I expect the guy to magically be more interesting and make everything feel new again.  And if he fails, I start to look elsewhere.  Or I go overboard trying to come up with all sorts of fun and exciting things for us/him to do to try to put spark and magic into the relationship.  Instead of accepting the "easy comfort" of being with someone you know well and who knows you well, I find myself thinking, "Oh God, I'm going to have to laugh at those jokes and watch Star Trek reruns for the rest of my life!" while worrying that he's thinking, "Oh God, I'm going to have to listen to her ramble on about how much she loved LOST and all of her friend issues for the rest of my life!"

I was telling some of my new hires during a break about this "crazy theory" this past week and the guy who jokingly said I'd be telling my boyfriend "Dance, monkey, dance" said that I just had to find someone who is very mysterious and who doesn't easily give up things about themselves so that I can drag out the honeymoon phase as long as possible and then, maybe, by then I'll have gotten frustrated by how long it was taking to get to know the person and realize that "boredom" is better than pulling teeth.

Still, I kinda like the idea of being able to look a guy in the eyes and say, "Dance, monkey, dance!"

It could lead to so many other verbs.  And being called a monkey isn't necessarily a bad thing. 

Roll To Me

Look into your heart pretty baby
Is it achin' with some nameless need?
Is there somethin' wrong
And you can't put your finger on it?
Right then, roll to me

And I don't think
I have ever seen a soul so in despair
So if you want to talk the night through
(Ooh)
Guess who will be there?
(Aaa)

Back in 1995ish, I used to absolutely love this song.  I had a mixed tape (yes, as in "cassette tape") of songs that I used to take with me when I traveled for a job that I had at the time.  This song was one of the songs on it. I used to daydream about meeting someone who sensed I was in turmoil and who would offer to be my rock -- to be the person I can turn to.  Funny - all these years later, I still want that.

I digress.  I spent 3 of 4 weeks every month on the road, visiting various day cares, after school programs and in-home child care providers to offer education, support and training.  I lived in my car.

I think spending so much time in my car for over two years is one of the main reasons I don't enjoy driving or spending time in my car now.  Oh, I don't mind being the passenger.  But, I get frustrated with driving.  Small distance, long distances.  It doesn't matter.  If I didn't despise public transportation and fear its unpredictability, I'd probably consider parking the car and forgetting about it.

Every now and then, though, I suck it up in the name of fun.   A few weeks ago, I made the trip to Northern Virginia to see Jason Mraz in concert.  This past weekend, I made the trip again, for a cooking show in DC.

On Friday night, I went to Target after work and purchased a Garmin.  I've been scoffing the technology for years, relying on mapquest directions to get me where I need to go.  However, I didn't feel like trying to drive and read directions so I caved in and bought the GPS.  It was suprisingly easy to install and use.  I had considered returning it after the weekend was over, but now I'm thinking of keeping it.  I have a tendency to get lost trying to find places and this could come in handy.  Heck, it may even encourage me to explore parts of Virginia Beach and Hampton Roads I haven't explored yet.

I left around 8:30 on Saturday morning and the drive was clear and uneventful.  The foliage along I-295 and I-95, near the DC area is absolutely beautiful.  I tried to take photos but driving and photography do not mix well.   I had the new Colbie Caillat CD along with two Jason Mraz CDs.  Decided I was going to have perky, upbeat music in the car with me.  Sort of that "fake it until you make it" thing.  I haven't been feeling too perky but I didn't want to show up at my friend's house in a cranky mood. 

We left a little before 1:00 for the cooking expo.  I had never been to DC before so it was fun playing tourist, oohing and aahing over the buildings and architecture.  I love old buildings.  I could spend hours taking photos of old buildings, ornate architecture, etc.  When I lived in Ohio, there was a lot of old architecture.  New homes and buildings try to impress us with glass and steel.  I love the look of old concrete, stucco and wood beams.  I've often fantasized about living in some old Victorian with lots of rooms, nooks and crannies.

The cooking expo was massive.  Over 300 vendors.  I love those kinds of things.  I love trying to get free samples and trying new things.  We spent close to two hours exploring the vendor booths.  I even tried to pick up a man at a meat vendor booth.  He said he liked my personality.  But, alas, I did not score any digits.

Then, it was time for the Guy Fieri demonstration.  He is very personable.  I remember watching him on the Next Food Network Star and he was my number 1 pick to win.  I love him on Diners, Drive ins and Dives.  He seems like he would be a fun person to hang out with.  Has a sarcastic sense of humor and down to earth approach.  

After the demo, we headed north on 7th Street to Chinatown where we met up with an old college friend of mine.  We had dinner at an Italian restaurant called Carmine's, which is part of the NYC Carmine's family of restaurants.  The food was good and the conversation was lively.  There was much joking about my love life and trials and tribulations.  My friend invited me to join him at a gay bar after dinner, but I passed, citing my fear of meeting someone there and falling in love.  My friend, who is an editor for a major newspaper, offered up some suggestions for launching my writing career and we discussed my blog for a bit.

After dinner, we all headed back towards the convention center.  My college friend headed off to his bar.  Heather and I headed back to her place.   We sat around for awhile and then I headed to bed, leaving her to spend some time with her husband and dog.

I was up early today, thanks to the time change.  As soon as the sun came up, I was wide awake.  I was on the road by 8 and home by 11:15.

I'm always glad to come home.  The older I get, the more "home-body" I am.  I missed my Abby.  I missed my bed.  I missed my pillows.  I changed clothing and crawled into bed and just snuggled with Abby for a couple of hours, while trying to motivate myself to do the list of chores I had yet to touch.

As I lie in bed, Dorothy's voice from the Wizard of Oz kept circulating in my head.  "There's no place like home.  There's no place like home.  There's no place like home."

I think she may have been on to something.

Shock/Denial/Anger/Acceptance

You seem very well, things look peaceful
I'm not quite as well, I thought you should know
Did you forget about me Mr. Duplicity
I hate to bug you in the middle of dinner
It was a slap in the face how quickly I was replaced
Are you thinking of me when you fuck her

Yeah, this blog has absolutely nothing to do with being replaced by someone.  However, it is about anger and whenever I think of angry songs, I'm always drawn to this part of the song and how great it feels to say the "F" word right along with her in the song, like you are right there, feeling that frustration she feels...  ah, Alanis, I bow down to you.

That said - someone pissed me off today.   Soon after, I realized that I have my own "stages" of coping with things.

We've all heard about the 7 stages of grief ... or coping... or whatever.  Shock, Denial, Anger, Acceptance, etc.  (This is also the name of a Rick Springfield album.)

I realized that whenever I have a set back of some sort, I go through phases, too.

Mine are self-pity, depression, anger and change.

First, I feel sorry for myself.  I wallow.  Wallow, wallow, wallow.  Woe is me.   I cry.  I curse.  I blame myself.  I cry some more.  I don't understand why bad things happen to me.  I don't want to talk to anyone or be with anyone.  I want to lie in bed and listen to sappy sad songs and just cease to exist for awhile.

Then, I get depressed.  Darkly depressed.  I start to imagine that there is no hope and that no one cares.  I can't really cry anymore and sad songs don't faze me anymore.  I lose self esteem and motivation.  I just want to sleep.  And eat.  Sleep, daydream, fantasize and eat.  I start to shutdown emotionally and physically.  Nothing appeals to me except for avoiding life.  I wish more people understood me and how I felt.  I wish the people causing me harm truly knew how much they were hurting me.

Next, I start to get mad.  Usually one of the people or things which started the spiral downward will do something to totally piss me off.  A comment.  An action.  I start to see people in a different light and through different eyes.  I wonder if maybe it isn't "me" who is the bad guy and that maybe they are the fucktards with issues.  I start to fume and boil.  I plot ways in my head to show them up, to make them regret the day they crossed me.

Finally, I take action.  I make a change.  A hair cut.  A new job.  A new home.  Something. Anything.  I decide that I'm tired of being sad and tired of letting whomever it is that made me sad have power over me.  I shake them off and the bad feelings that come with them.  I move on.  Their loss.

Now, sometimes, it takes awhile to make it through these changes.  I went through a period a few years back where stages 1 and 2 lasted for about two years.  Then, sometimes, it's just a matter of weeks.

Right now, I'm a little ticked off.  Mad that someone I thought was a friend isn't being quite as "friend-like" as I'd like them to be.  A little wary.  A lot suspicious.  Now, I know anger is a useless emotion, too.  It's no healthier than being sad and depressed.  However, the positive is that soon -- I hope soon -- that anger will turn into some sort of motivating factor and I will spring forward and re-energize myself and motivate myself to do greater things.  Better things.

So, viva the "F" word.  Viva "go to hell" lists.  Viva not giving a damn.