The perfect storm

So, yesterday y’all got to see my sassy side. See, I’m not all smiles and sweetness. Bet ya think I’m a real tough cookie now, huh? Yep. That’s me. You should be scared.

Or not.

Anyway, moving on…

I saw the most incredible lightning storm last night. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before, but I have always been completely fascinated with lightning. I could watch it for hours. There’s something about it that sparks a childlike excitement in me. And last night, I had the perfect view. I was sitting on a big front porch, overlooking nothing but pastures and ponds. No buildings to block my view. No city lights to take away from the effect. I’ve never seen so much lightning so continuously. The sky lit up with Mother Nature’s very own fireworks for over an hour. The only sound was the soft patter of rain and the rolling booms of thunder. It was fantastic.

I was much too preoccupied enjoying the sights to snap a picture, but I found this one online and thought it was pretty:





Is it sad the the highlight of my week so far has been watching a storm? Guess that shows you how exciting my social life is :)

If I only had the hutzpah... whatever that is

Weekly writing assignment from Mama Kat: List ten things you would say to ten different people in your life...if you had the hutzpah. (inspired by Cassandra from Cassagram)

It’s been awhile since I’ve done one of these, so I figured I was overdue.

We all have things that we hold back – comments we want to say but simply don’t have the “hutzpah” to spit out. I’m using my context clues with this one, seeing as I have no idea what hutzpah actually is… I guessing it’s nerve? Gall? Guts? Am I close? (We’ll just pretend I am.) So, if I had the hutzpah, I would say:

To a certain self-pitying friend: Enough already! We’re here if you need us, but there’s only so much anyone can do when you lock yourself in your house. Sometimes life sucks for no apparent reason. Move on and LIVE YOUR LIFE.

To an old college professor: Dude, I missed two classes all semester. I came in late (still during roll call) a few times. You gave me an FA. Failure to attend. Seriously? Then you told me I could write a paper for each absence, which I did. With a broken wrist. And you still failed me. Oh, did I mention I made an A on every paper I turned in that semester? Yeah… I loved repeating your class. Jerk. Get over yourself.

To the woman wearing a tube top and falling out of her hip hugger jeans at the grocery store: No one needs to see that while they’re shopping for food. You’ve single-handedly made the entire store lose their appetite. Thanks. Please come back when you’re not dressed for the Jerry Springer show.

To someone who will remain nameless: You frustrate me beyond belief. I’m not sure how to handle myself around you and that terrifies and confuses me.

To my parents: Where are my musical genes? Where is my rhythm? Why can’t I clap to a beat or hum a damn note on key? I blame you. Seriously. I could’ve been a rock star.

To one of my long-time besties: Honey, I love you, but a giant Coach bag (while gorgeous, I’m sure) is not something I want to hear about when I’m telling you about my breakup. I’m very excited that you have a generous boyfriend who spoils you rotten, but bringing that up when I’m telling you about my misfortunes? Not so cool. Just sayin’.

And finally, to myself: Loosen up and believe in yourself, chickadee! Life is too short to doubt yourself so much. Have fun and quit worrying and over analyzing every situation!

Well, I didn’t make it to ten, but that’s all I have for now. And ya know? It felt good to get a few of those off my chest. I might have to do that more often.

Friday ramblings...

Another weekend - woo hoo!

I honestly have zero plans for tonight, which scares me a little. I've gotten so used to staying busy. The idea of sitting at home is a little overwhelming. It's still early evening, though, so maybe something will come up. Don't get me wrong...I'm not afraid to be home alone with my thoughts. I've just become so used to being constantly entertained. Constantly surrounded by friends. Maybe I've become a little dependent.

Tomorrow morning should be fun, though. I'm going to go over to a friend's house to swim and layout. Good Lord knows I need some sun. I'm beginning to get transparent. After that I have plans... I just don't know what they are yet. Apparently there are few options on the table.

Anyway - no matter what I wind up doing this weekend, one thing is for certain: It'll be here in my sleepy little town. And you know what? I'm finally okay with that. Just a few months ago (maybe even last month) I had my bags packed and ready to go when I got off work every Friday. I found every excuse I could to leave. Birmingham, Destin, Mississippi, Mobile - not to mention Montana and Wyoming. I just had to get out of here. Not anymore. I have realized that I actually really, really like it here. Which is definitely good for my gas tank (and my wallet).

Therapy, of sorts...

In all honesty, I’m not sure how to do this. Granted, I’ve never had any problems expressing my feelings… but these are feelings I’d really rather keep to myself. However, it’s been suggested that it might be therapeutic to type out some thoughts regarding last month’s big break up.

Let’s see… how do I feel? Sad, disappointed. Like I lost my very best friend. I think that’s actually the hardest part. As in any relationship, we shared a lot of laughs and there were times I felt he understood me better than anyone else ever had. Of course, there were also times when I wondered if he knew me at all.

It’s hard to face the realization that someone you care for so deeply might not be the right person for you. I’m not going to go into personal details here. I’m not going to point fingers or place any blame – but I will say that my heart had been hurting for quite some time. In the end, it was a hurt that I couldn’t deal with anymore. A pain that I just couldn’t face for the rest of my life.

So, I’m dealing with it in my own way. I’m staying as busy as possible and trying not to dwell on my sadness. I want to move on with my life. I want to be happy. And I want him to do the same. No matter how things ended for us, Kevin was a huge part of my life for a very, very long time. (We met when I was 19.) I genuinely hope that he can find happiness. I wish him nothing but the very best in life.

I find myself wondering how long it’ll hurt. It’s been about a month, and there are still days that it feels brand new. I came across some pictures yesterday and nearly fell apart at work. Not good. But then there are also moments - when I’m surrounded by friends, laughing and enjoying life - that I almost feel normal. It’s like a see-saw.

Anyway – I know I’ll be fine. These things happen every day and my case is not unique. Things WILL get better.

What bad mood?

“Man – I’m having one of those days. I knew it would happen eventually. I knew all of my positive thoughts and good vibes would waiver at some point. I’m not saying that they’re gone – they’re still there, relentlessly fighting to get back to the surface and kick this sullen mood I’m in.

For the most part, things have been good lately. I’ve been putting in a lot of time with friends, staying busy and trying to keep my mind occupied. I know that I have to deal with memories, thoughts and sadness – I know I can’t put those off forever. But sometimes they hit me so hard.”

I was in the process of writing this yesterday and never finished. As I sat there, struggling for the right words, a friend of mine called and asked if I wanted to come over and help her babysit her brother-in-law’s kids. So, having nothing better to do, I happily agreed. And you know what? That was just the thing I needed.

I had the best time with those adorable little kids. We laughed, played games and acted as silly as possible. By the time I left, I didn’t even remember being in a bad mood. I signed back into blogger this morning and saw that I had a draft saved – I couldn’t believe how drastically my mood had changed since then.

There was definitely a bit of magic in their laughter that brought me back to good spirits. There’s something about hearing a six year old tell you, “YOU’RE FUN!” that really makes things better.

And their charm has held. So far today, I’m upbeat and staying positive. Next time I’m feeling down, maybe I’ll ask to borrow them for awhile. It seems that playing make-believe, eating ice cream and having my hair “fixed” made all the difference in the world.

Thank ya... thank ya very much

Big shout out to RileyScott and Judge Fudge who both gave me terrific awards last week (or the week before…or the week before the week before? I’m a little slow sometimes.)

First, is the Kreativ Blogger award from the very funny Judge. To accept the honor, I must tell you seven things I love. And here they are:

Meeting new people. This has been a big deal for me lately, as I’m trying to make my little town feel more like home. I’ve been pretty successful and am feeling pretty good about my expanding list of friends. I’ve even discovered that not ALL of my neighbors are retired with great grandkids. Some of them are actually pretty close to my age. Score.

Sweet tea, which was sorely missed on my trip out west. Why is it that NO ONE else in the United States knows how to make sweet tea like us Southerners? It’s not a tough concept people! Add sugar while the tea is hot, then pour over ice. The end.

Thunderstorms. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a sunshine and blue sky kind of girl most days… but I love sitting on a covered porch and watching a thunderstorm. I love the sounds and the smell of rain. And I love watching the sky illuminate with each bolt of lightning.

Good ol’ fashioned belly-laughs. The kind that you almost can’t recover from. When you laugh so hard you find yourself short of breath but still can’t stop laughing. Those are the best.

Unexpected good news. For instance, I just found out today that instead of decreasing (as predicted), my dad’s kidney function is actually INCREASING. Hallelujah!

Coffee. And more coffee. And maybe a little bit more – just to be sure I’ve had enough.

YOU. All of you. Anyone who takes a minute or two out of their day to check in on me and read about my boring little life. And those of you who leave sweet, funny, thoughtful comments? Yeah… I definitely love you.

Now, moving right along… RileyScott kindly passed the Honest Scrap award my way. To accept this one, I have to tell you ten random (yet honest?) things about me.

I hate scary movies. I do. So much. I watched one Wednesday night with some friends and literally could NOT sleep all night long. I kept the light on in my room like a baby. With every creak of my old house, I prepared myself for the worst – convinced that Jason was going to come slice me open if I fell asleep. I’m such a wuss.

I talk to my dog like he’s a person.

I thrive on change. To say the very least, I’m definitely not set in my ways. Sometimes I daydream about moving somewhere new and starting from scratch. It seems pretty exciting.

When I was little (like four years old), I wanted to be Johnny Appleseed. I had a book about him and thought that it would be so much fun to roam around planting trees all day. I thought he was the coolest. (Shut up. I was four!)

Don’t tell anyone, but I secretly watch Hannah Montana. Hmm, I guess it’s not such a secret anymore. Oh well, it’s not like I said that I secretly thought Billy Ray Cyrus was cute (even when he had a mullet.) Nooo… I didn’t say that.

I think I could survive off of mashed potatoes.

I’m determined. Others might say relentless. Or stubborn. Or hard-headed. Or nagging. Or that I tend to beat a dead horse. Whatever. I just like to get my point across.

I tend to invent words. It started early. Apparently, my word of choice when I was about seven was “cinchy.” As in “That’s a cinch.” or “That’s easy.” Only it’d come out, “Oh, that’s cinchy.” My mom and stepdad say they hated it because it made me sound like a know-it-all.

I hate shoes that have to be tied. I especially hate shoes you have to wear socks with. I hate it when one shoe is tied tighter than the other, or when your sock gets a wrinkle in it or bunches up near your toes, or around your heel. I don’t know how many times I adjust my socks or retie my tennis shoes when I wear them. It’s my very own little obsessive-compulsive tick.

I’ve been practicing my cursive. Some girls have the prettiest flowing handwriting. Me? I was told that my cursive looks like a five year grabbed a pen and started scribbling. So I’ve been working on it. And personally, I think it’s getting much better. If you squint and tilt your head sideways, it’s almost legible now.

Well, that’s it. Nothing left to do now but share these with a couple of deserving bloggers.

For the Kreativ Blogger award, I choose Trudy at Third Time’s a Charm.

And for the Honest Scrap… scarlethue at A Beautiful Truth.

Want more?

Okay - here's a link to my Flickr page so you can see more vacation shots. I didn't upload all of them... that'd be a little overwhelming. We'll take baby steps here, okay?

Anyway, go check it out if ya want. If not, then just ignore this little post. :)