Inside my Head

Oh, dear…..she’s back!

2010-12-12T12:51:00.001-06:00

This morning I slept later than I have in a really long time. When I first woke up, it was so bright outside; I groaned and covered my face with the comforter, shut my eyes, and felt myself wanting to sleep the day away. Not because I was tired, but because I just didn't want to get out of bed and do…..well, anything really. But then the little voice inside told me, "Mofabulous, pull the covers down, open your eyes and just get out of bed. You will NOT do this again." So, as most of you know, it's usually best to listen to that little voice. I pulled the covers down, opened my eyes, got out of bed. Let the dog out, opened the blinds, turned on all the lights. The darkness will not consume me. I will fight it with all the light I have. Every day will not be perfect, but every day can get better.

It's taken me the last year and a half to learn many hard heart-wrenching lessons. Some learned more openly than others. The hardest learned alone.

Others are not put on this planet to make life happen for you. You have your own life. Live it.

You can give what you think is every part of your heart to make someone else's troubles easier, it doesn't mean you will ever see them give it back to you. You do have to hope that maybe they will pass it on to someone else when they need it most though.

When you spend so much time wallowing in your own self-pity, you're not punishing those you want to – you're only devastating yourself……because those people understand they have to make life happen for them.

But, the biggest lesson I think I have learned is……….

That I know I haven't learned everything yet.

Things are much more complicated, situations much less serious than I sometimes make them, that I can be kinder to myself, need to be kinder to others, that I may sometimes feel like an old lady – but I still have a whole lot of life to live and experience so I need to simply lighten up, already!

There is so much more to say. So many funny stories to tell.

Life certainly isn't perfect…..but it is good.

The conclusion of my narcissistic melodrama (for now)......

2009-03-30T17:38:00.006-05:00

My soul sister Fawn never spares her feelings or thoughts in her posts - which I very much respect and enjoy reading because they make me think and feel even when I don't want to - so when she said to me: "I've come to the conclusion that we just have to LIVE our lives. I don't know how to do that, but I'd rather take a risk now than regret not doing so years down the line. What say you?" again, it made me think.

Well, I suppose it's a risk either way when you think about it.....and goodness, I'm So. Sick. of thinking about it I could puke.

It's a risk to not do anything about whatever - and later wish you had. It's a risk to do something and fail miserably.

But - I do know one thing, it's worse to never recognize the choice and at least have made a decision either way - than it is to live your life like you never had one.

I appreciate the challenge - and the sentiment that I'm not alone.

It's funny how when you get really personal and embarassingly honest about something people tend to clam up and say nothing. God forbid we make anyone feel uncomfortable by speaking our truth, right?

People will always comment and encourage about something that on the face is an "everyday problem or life struggle"......but if it's something that's not tangible - that can't be touched or healed - it can be ignored....as to not make anyone feel uncomfortable.

If there's one thing I've realized in the valley of my life these days, it's that I am what I am and I feel what I feel - and I shouldn't try to fix it or make it pretty or make excuses for it just because it makes someone uncomfortable or doesn't fit in with their life or how the people they let in their life should be.

It's not my fault if they sit quietly by and refuse to reach out because again....it makes them uncomfortable.......My life is my choice and how I live it only depends on me.

I'd call that a step. And a damn good one at that.

Stay tuned - one of these days there will be Sunshine!

2009-03-24T12:56:00.002-05:00

What do I want for myself?

That is a question that keeps rolling over and over in my mind – and then slowly causes me to get this deep panicky feeling. The kind you get when you’re slowly climbing towards the top of the rollercoaster towards the sign that says, “drop ahead!” It’s a question that I’m not sure that I even want to ask myself, because it causes about 10 more questions to pop up.

And if I do name what I actually want – actually say it out loud, what if it sounds absolutely absurd?

At one point in my life I wanted to be a nurse – at another I wanted to be a lawyer – then another I wanted to own a top political consulting firm.

Honestly, what was I thinking?

Now, I have this writer’s thing that keeps dogging me. I enjoy writing, and I can even pen a witty blog entry from time to time….but write a book? I certainly enjoy reading them, but I think I have this total unbelievable fantasy of being a writer…..one where I can just go off into some secluded cabin (or cottage in Ireland – but that’s a whole other daydream) with my laptop and just write to my hearts content about anything and everything and live my days in blissful silence with a cup of tea and my dog at my side.

But then reality kicks in. Writers don’t just write a story, send it off, and collect a check. They have outlines, structure, character development….details, details, details – blah. When I go so far into what needs to be done to actually “become” a writer my head feels like it’s going to explode…… Then I get back to the work that actually pays my bills.

Do I lack ambition? Or am I just afraid of failing? Probably a little of both.

I’m constantly changing my mind about what I want to be when I grow up. This was partially my problem of why I didn’t finish college. I just didn’t see the point in going to school for something I didn’t have a clue if I wanted to do or not. And I certainly wasn’t going to finish college just because “that’s what was expected of me.”

I used to love my job. I still love it sometimes, but not like I used to. I’m not sure why, but now there are days where it makes me feel trapped. I feel like I have an obligation to stay to take care of what I helped build. Again….to stay and take care of someone else. What has this job done for me? Well, it’s given me LOADS of experience, it’s paid my bills and kept me comfortable enough for a number of years, and it has given me a source of joy all this time. But now, I feel like it’s keeping me from my life. Not that I have much of one anymore – but I think it’s hindering me from becoming what I’m meant to be.

There are certain things in your life that will help shape your future, but aren’t necessarily the things that direct your path to where you’re going. Make sense to you? Yeah me not so much either.

One of these days I’ll figure it out.

Sometimes I scold myself for being so finicky about things and sounding so discontented with my life, but other times I think that if one stops dreaming about what could be – they’re really screwed.

I’m desperately trying to keep my head clear these days. To take a deep breath and face what I want for me – and what I want to do to get there. To face the changes I absolutely have to make in order to start fresh. I’m just afraid it might swallow me whole if I go that deep.

Frozen in Fear*

2009-03-19T12:49:00.004-05:00

*I know I haven't posted in a while. I wrote this and went back and forth on posting it. I even thought about changing some things so it doesn't seem so fatalistic. But, I decided that above all things when you're trying to conquer something - you have to be completely honest with yourself and with whatever your outlet is. So, is this honest? Yes. Should you be worried? Probably. Put me on suicide watch? Not yet, but I'll let you know - (just kidding...seriously.) Will I get out of it? Here's hoping so.
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Have you ever felt like you were losing a grip on your current state of reality?

Like you are hanging from a cliff, with one hand on the rope, palms sweating and just hanging on to the fringes?

You can't breathe - there's a tightness in your chest that you don't know where it's coming from....and one wrong move you're completely done.

So you freeze. And don't do a damn thing.

Which isn't good, because no matter how still you are - you're hand will just keep slipping and you'll still plummet. But, on the other hand you have to do something because this could be your last chance.

But the fear of not making the right decision can be so crippling that you'll do everything in your power to ignore it. And to destroy the options that decision has given you.

Sometimes you can almost drive yourself mad with the things coming at you screaming, "deal with me!" So you self-destruct any way you can to ignore those things creating an even bigger mountain to climb for yourself. All the time desperate for someone to recognize it without you having to tell them.

There is no easy solution. There is no solution where you get through it without exposing a part of yourself that you've desperately tried to hide.

I still have to function, I still have to perform, I still have to smile and say all the right things. I still have to be there when everyone else needs me. Every single thing I do on a daily basis is based on the needs of another human being. Most of which will never be reciprocated. This is actually normal for me - dare I say comfortable. Because if I'm helping people with themselves - they look at me less. I can't stand to be looked at.

But lately, I've frozen. So much that I'm neglecting things. Important things. Like, MY life. Basic life functioning things.

And, I'm terrified of turning around and facing what I need to. To even turn on all the lights in my apartment, look around, and focus on me and what's important to me.

Because honestly, I'm afraid I just won't know what those things are.

My Shameless Attempt for Attention

2009-03-02T10:00:00.008-06:00

So today marks the 28th year anniversary of
Mofabulous being expelled from her Mother's uterus.

Said uterus still feels pain from time to time after hours of pushing and screaming and eventually giving birth to a 1 month overdue, 10 lb (yes...I said that correctly) bundle of joy......at least she likes to tell me that.

So I kept racking my brain about what to write today. Should I acknowledge it, should I not? And if I do, what in hell do I write about?

It all just became too stressful. It's like the anticipation of New Year's Eve night. You make all kinds of different plans with people and the excitement is just built up so much that it NEVER ends up what you wanted it to be. So you end up alone, on your couch drinking and eating chocolate while watching Ryan Seacrest try to convince everyone he's straight.

So I haven't made one single plan to celebrate.

Am I being a debbie downer today? Not at all. I'm happy it's my birthday, I just don't have any real expectations......therefore, anything that happens is just FABULOUS to me.

See how that works?

So far I've received a cupcake cake from Mrs. V and the Hubs....because secretly I want to be 5 again....and she remembered. It's scrumptious and makes me happy when I look at it.

And, Mr. Big Cheese shocked the crap out of me this morning when he walked in with my favorite Starbucks drink, a card, and a handful of bright balloons. Ha! Now, if any of you knew Mr. Big Cheese, that is highly unlike him. He's the "I'm only comfortable in suits and ties" type guy.....and for him to take the time to order balloons, get a card, and actually walk in to the big government building where everyone ultimately works for him with those in hand....

man, after 10 years of our working relationship - we have progress baby!

So, here's to My new year.....

I hope to live it better than my last.

Maybe he'll grow up smelling like pipe tobacco.....

2009-02-26T22:12:00.003-06:00

So at least 4 times today my mother reminded me that my Papaw (her father) would be 100 years old today. Who passed away when I was 4, and somehow I remember his smell. You might think it's a nasty smell that pipe tobacco - but it makes me nostalgic. I remember him - and the toothless smile.

Well, today must be very lucky.

Because my heart is so full.

Mrs. D gave birth to a 7 lb 15 oz baby boy around 5:30 this evening.

We met over 9 years ago. She the hippie-dressing, yoga class taking - turned teacher, sweet hearted designer girl right out of college. Myself, the obnoxious talking, business minded, over-worked teenager who didn't make friends at work. We grew together - went to happy hour together - lamented about the horrible 20's. She was desperate to find her prince charming. I fought her on that the whole way. I was her "we gotta go girl." She still tells me to this day that I don't have a guy because I'm a bitch (said with love - promise).

3 1/2 years ago, her aunt and uncle set her up with a strapping young man who was in Iraq. They started emailing. Then sending videos. We would stay up late watching Sex and the City, drinking wine, and giggling over his pictures. He was HOT. And I didn't hesitate in telling her that. A tall drink of half-samoan water. The first time I met him he gave me a big hug and bought me a drink. Yes, I'm cheap. I was sold.

One year later, I was all teary-eyed watching them exchange their vows.

Today, I stood in a room with monitors beeping, her telling me that these drugs they gave her? "Yeah - we'd been missing out....waaaay better than wine." He wasn't saying much. The normally very loud towering man was a little speechless. I told her it was time to "put her game face on." and walked out a little concerned about my blood pressure.

3 hours later, Her Man, walked into the waiting room with two thumbs up. With the ONLY information was that he was good, and it was indeed the expected boy. NO OTHER INFORMATION. Geez....we need to give these husbands a list of information to get before they come out for the announcement in the waiting room.

About an hour later, I walked into the room....she was, ahem...in a slight state of undress and waiting for the nurse to hand over her boy for his first meal.

I don't know how to eloquently talk about the profound experience it is when one of your special friends gives birth to their very first child.

But, I will remember for the rest of my God-given life....

When your dad called my cell about half an hour before you entered this world and stuttered, "It's happening, It's happening!"

That your daddy was white as a sheet. Telling me he needed to order a subscription of Parenting magazine pronto.

When your grandmother told me your momma told your daddy when your head started to come out, "Get ready to meet your only child!"

How your momma giggled when you nursed for the first time like a freakin' champ!

How she smiled and looked at me and said, "Mofabulous, can you believe it? I'm a momma."

How your parents just kept staring at you like they were waiting for you to start doing flips - or grow two heads - or do something.

How I felt when I saw your daddy brush your mom's hair while she nursed you so she'd be somewhat "presentable" for company.

How Mrs. V started making a list of all the questions about birth she wanted to know in the waiting room. You and Baby V can be homies.

And seeing all the people that couldn't wait to meet you.

You are loved little boy. Not just because your this new sweet baby, but because we love your parents. We love them for everything they were before you were even a thought. I love my Momma D, because I was there for the boys that tried to catch her heart before your daddy (because she's fabulous), but she knew she had to wait for him - because of you.

You did good, Momma D. You and Papa make beautiful babies - I can't wait for the next show.

Note to Self.

2009-02-23T13:53:00.002-06:00

"Self, it is NOT a good idea to return your trainer's phone call while in the Jack-in-the-Box drive thru."

Because when you realize you made a stupid mistake - you have to order a salad so your trainer will hear it and think you are being such a good girl........

And then change the order when you hang up with him and actually get to the window while apologizing profusely to the cashier so she doesn't spit in your bacon 'n cheese potato wedges.

Because man - those wedges of grease and processed cheese -

ARE AWESOME.

Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

2009-02-20T11:25:00.004-06:00

Where did the weekend go? I worked all day Saturday and Sunday so now that Monday is here, I feel like I need another weekend!

Things are very busy right now so I'm not sure how much I'll be around, we'll see.

Anyhoo..........

Ok, so since I'm fairly new at this blogging thing - I don't know how to do much other than post, follow and read.

So - I'm calling on any of you out there that may have suggestions!

I'd like to know how people get to my site by their search engines - and how many people visit and stick around. I know that there are several websites that can track those things, but I'm not sure which one I should use.

Suggestions are much appreciated - thanks!

Take your stinkin' coffee and shove it!

2009-02-20T08:53:00.003-06:00

Maybe it's just me.

Our district office which includes Mr. Big Cheese, myself, and our secretary always provide bottled waters to our guests. There have been only 2 times we have received a request for coffee from one of our guests in the past 1 1/2 years I have been here......this morning was the 2nd.

We don't drink it because I have a thing for communal drinking units....ick....and it just looks disgusting. Since there's not a Starbucks that's easy to get to, I usually pick up an OJ for me and a Coffee for Mr. Big Cheese at the Golden Arches on my way into work.

This was only the 2nd flippin' time we have used the muddy water in the back break room and filled a teeny-tiny styrafoam cup up for one of our guests.

My secretary then gets stopped by one of the old hag Executive Assistants at the end of our office and says, "Your Big Cheese needs to contribute to the coffee fund if he's going to use our coffee."

So she red-faced and embarassed stops by my office before delivering said spit water and tells me what she said.

OMG.

I admit, I may have just a tad bit overreacted.

Probably a little sensitive today for various reasons.

But I went to my purse and got out a crisp $1 bill......stomped over to Mrs. Old Hag......and set the dollar bill on her desk and politely said,

"Here your precious money for the 2 coffees we have given our guests to choke on in the whole 18 months I've worked here. Next time someone asks for your mud water- we'll tell them we were cited by the health department and can't serve it to them anymore. Now go back to your krispy kremes and BACK OFF."

Ok. Maybe not all of that, but sure wanted to.....I did go over there though, and I did leave Mrs. Old Hag speechless.

Yep. Time for a refill from the pharmacy.

Thoughts on teenage pregnancy from my Grandaddy

2009-02-18T15:16:00.005-06:00

While talking about G-unit yesterday, it made me think of my Grandaddy. Most people who know us said I am most like him.....pretty much tells it like it is and doesn't sugar coat things. And has major "foot in mouth" disease. He was fantastic.

Anyways, it reminded me of a funny story once that happened in their living room.

My Grandmother, Dad, and I (and possibly my sister - can't remember) were talking while Grandaddy was zoning out to the tv one afternoon not paying any attention to us. I think I was around 16 or 17 at the time and for some reason the topic of teen pregnancy came up as there was a girl in my grade that was pregnant at the time.

Somehow we started talking about the different options she might have available to her. Well, with me being the rebellious teenager that I was, I started arguing different points with them and the conversation got heated - my Grandmother kept rolling her eyes at me and at one point my father called me a "damn liberal" - which I thought was funny and of course laughed at him.....which only made his face get redder and the little vein in his forehead start pulsing.

Throughout this whole lively conversation, my Grandaddy never made a peep or even acknowledged that we were yelling like crazy people. Until I made some comment like, "Whatever - fine. Don't listen to me" (Wasn't I sweet?)

Then Grandaddy.......a devout Baptist Deacon and man of few words.....turned around and looked straight at me and said,

"Mo Fabulous, just don't get knocked up and we won't have a problem. End of discussion."

My Grandmother and Dad were staring at him with mouths wide open - Grandmother quickly recovered and told him he shouldn't talk like that.

I laughed harder than I'd ever had in my life.

And coincidentally kept his advice. Because Grandaddy don't play.

An Ode to G-Unit

2009-02-18T13:52:00.003-06:00

Today is my Grandmother's 75th Birthday. Or affectionately known as Grandma Betty if you're one of my friends.

She rocks my socks off.

I call her almost every day when I get home to either tell her a funny story that happened that day, or complain, or to just check-in.

She's not the baking or cooking type of Grandmother. If she didn't order it on QVC, I can't guarantee what's going to come out of her oven. She's a sucker for frozen food. We as her family appreciate that.

In her 75 years she's experienced many things. She was 16 years old when she met my Granddaddy in a skating rink. He was showing off twisting and twirling on the rink. He was several years older.....scandalous. By the time they met, he had been in the military - stationed in Hawaii (poor thing) and had already come back home. At 18 she was a wife. They made it to 50 years and 1 month before my Granddaddy passed away. He taught her how to press his shirts and suits, she'd never ironed before in her life.

They both worked for and retired from AAFES, and she likes to tell me she used to be on a first name basis with Colin Powell. Evidently he was a stickler for the buttons on the military uniforms.

They raised two sons together.

When the boys were in high school and would come home late they would have to go and wake Grandmother up to give her a kiss goodnight so she could see if she smelled liquor on their breath.

She cringes if my sister and I don't wear pantyhose to church - God forbid if we wear flip flops.

We wore pantyhose to my Grandaddy's funeral in her honor. In July. In Texas.

She lost her youngest son when he was 29 in a Delta plane crash for a business trip. I was about 6 years old and I will never ever forget that day and the look on my Grandmother's face when we walked into the house and she was glued to the tv. Her only consolation was before he left the house she had given him a hug and a kiss and the last words they said to each other was I love you.

She took care of my grandaddy from the moment he got sick. She never left his side. He took his last breath a few seconds after she kissed him on the forehead and told him, "It's ok Daddy, your girls are all here - you can go now."

They had a pool at their house. We could have as many friends over and play as long as we wanted during the summertime......but not until we did a certain number of laps in the pool first. It was important to her for us to learn to respect the water and know how to swim. I invited Mrs. V to come swim once a year or so ago....she made me promise her she wouldn't have to do laps. Ha.

She has a cell phone that has a calling plan of 60 minutes a month on it. My dad gave it to her for emergencies. She never answers it when you call, so it's pretty pointless. And because no-one ever calls her on that phone, she never turns the ringer off. One of these days, I'm going to call her during church just to tell her "I told you so."

Every Christmas Eve night for as long as I can remember as my sister and I got settled into our sleeping bags on her bedroom floor next to her and Grandaddy she would tell us the story of Pedro and Pepe and how they made the church bells ring because they gave all they had to the Lord.

She started the Intercessor prayer program at our home church and regularly sends out emails with various prayer requests to the members. My sister and I have to be VERY specific and clear on what we do or do not want her to say so she doesn't email it to the world.

She knows I can be extra bitchy sometimes and when I told her I was angry at one of my friends for something, she told me to pray for them because "Mofabulous, it's pretty hard to be angry at someone you're praying for."

Crap.

She's right. I HATE that.

She is my biggest prayer warrior. Woman actually has a written list of people that she refers to on a daily basis for her prayers and yet when I was telling her a story the other day I very clearly heard her say, "Holy Shit." It runs in the family.

She learned how to play Texas Hold 'Em when my sister got engaged, because her future son-in-law liked to play and she wanted to make sure he felt included.

She gives my Sister and I some wack-a-doodle present every year just for the hell of it. This past Christmas it was a game called "Dance Fire." Yeah - It's awesome.

So Grandmother - here's to you and your 75 years of fabulousness.

Because quite frankly you're the the bees knees.

No, I'm not drunk. Swear.

2009-02-17T13:48:00.008-06:00

I feel like I've had an epiphany. And it happened during a long arduous meeting this morning about toll roads, parks, and politics. Obviously, I was too deep inside my own head to pay much attention to whatever the Big Cheese's in the room were discussing.

My life, much like this blog is evolving.

I seem to be on the brink of something but I'm not sure yet what it is. I can feel it though. There's something in the air that's electric. Something that makes me tingle from deep inside my gut to the ends of my toes - and it ain't from that kind of electricity.

So, I won't apologize for the confusing rants - because this is my flippin' outlet, but I need to verbally expel my hysteria for a moment:

I feel like I could be so much of a better person in so many areas - but I'm just always one step away from beginning the process.

Yes, my life is good. But I want it to be great.

I want to be able to say I cherished every moment. I want to be able to meet my Maker and tell him I used up every ounce of talent he gave me. That instead of merely existing day by day, that I am actively taking a step towards the best me I can be. I want to fully and heart wrenchingly exhaust all the possibilities.

I want to not be terrified of someone judging me if I fail. I want to be believed in and worth the fight.

I want to be able to look back on my life and say, what a ride! I want to experience the feeling of pure satisfaction after I produce something created by my thoughts, hands, and deepest part of my soul.

I want, I want, I want.

I imagined life much differently years ago than where I am now. I'm not saying it's bad - I just feel like I might have wasted many years, just waiting for something to happen to me. Instead of making it happen for me.

This may all seem like endless bitching to you, dear reader. I can assure you, it's not. I'm extremely lucky in life. But I know with complete certainty that I have not become a fraction of what I can become. I've become a morsel of monotony.

And it makes me angry at myself. It makes me loathe the part of me that wants to sit by the wayside and watch life pass me by.

I'm exhausted from feeling like I have to explain myself to anyone. It's even more exhausting that I know people aren't asking for an explanation, it's just my own self-hesitations.

If you take this is as frustration with myself, you are absolutely right. But, it's more than that.

It's a line being drawn in the sand and it's a kick in the ass to cross it.

Happy Venereal Disease Day.....Ha!

2009-02-14T19:38:00.002-06:00

Warning....this post is uncharacteristically sentimental......readers, consider yourself on notice.

So, I once had this boy - friend. One that was a boy.....and a good friend of mine. We grew up together. I met him in 7th grade science class. He was my first dance at the Jr. High Valentine's Dance. He was my first kiss. It was on the band bus on the way to a football game. I of course started giggling so hard afterwards, I think I ruined any chance for a real love connection. We took a road trip to South Padre one time.....even shared a hotel room......my Dad LOVED that....and nothing ever happened. Although we did stay up in bed all night watching old black and white tv shows while ordering room service and laughing so hard cookies actually shot out of his nose......it was fabulous.

We became such good friends we would have "dates" together all through high school....never actual lovey dates, because we were just friends, but dates nonetheless. Even when he had girlfriends they knew we would have certain nights set aside for just us. We were so close, he called me the....ahem....morning after he "became a man".....and I asked him a zillion questions! So personal, they were questions I would NEVER have the nerve to ask anyone else back then. We were very young and because I was a a good Christian girl - I did make sure and tell him (prior to asking the questions) that I did NOT agree with his behavior, but I loved him anyways.....but PLEASE tell me what yada, yada, yada.....you get the picture. Anyways, after we were out of high school and from the time I was about 18 - every single Valentine's day, I would get flowers delivered....sometimes in person....sometimes by flower delivery guy from this friend. The card would always say - "Happy Venereal Disease Day....because you can never be too careful." I love you - R (name covered to protect the innocent.) I think I still have the cards somewhere. It always made me smile, that even though that night he may have been courting someone else - and I may have been spending the night alone - that he always thought of me. Now, that all stopped once he started dating a certain someone, to whom he is now engaged (Now, don't hate on her.....she's the type that's too cute you want to hate her, but you just can't because she's too damn sweet.....She's great - even though I hate to admit it) I get it, she's the one.....and you always know when it's that ONE with your friends, because they give up something with you to spend it with them.

Anyways......this morning, I woke up with a big UGH running through my mind. I DREAD February 14th every year. I usually just pretend it's just another day. Luckily this year it landed on a Saturday, so I was spared from the endless flower deliveries at work. I planned to get up, go into the office and do some work, and go home and lock myself up in the apartment and ignore the "label" of this day.

However, I think the big man upstairs had another plan for me.

I did get up and went to work - buried myself in emails and papers - and while at the computer I received a phone call from my Dad just to tell me Happy Name that I try to ignore Day. And to say that he loves me.

Then about a half hour later while cursing at the copy machine, I received another phone call. It was my VERY (and by very, I mean like any day now) preggers friend Mrs. D saying that she would love me forever if I picked her up and went to get lunch and a mani/pedi with her because as soon as her husband got home (who travels during the week) he wouldn't let her leave the house unless it was to go straight to the hospital. I thought - well, that can't be too bad of a way to spend a Saturday.

Then, right after I picked up Mrs. D, I received another call from Mrs. V checking up on me. She's probably the one person that knows the extreme highs and lows I experience even in an hours span. She's my outlet for anything and everything. Seriously. The good, bad, and uglier. I appreciate her more than she'll ever know.

Then about an hour after I dropped off the baby making machine, Mrs. D, I received another phone call.

It was R.

We haven't talked in a long while - he just wanted to say Hi and Happy Venereal Disease Day.......because, let's all say it together now......you can never be too careful. We talked only for about 15 minutes, but it was great to hear from him. Before we said goodbye - he said to me - Mofabulous, you know I love you, right? Yes, I said. I know. Which he then said - Someday there's going to be a man who loves you more than me.....Damn him, I say. I laughed and told him to say hello to the soon-to-be Mrs. who was saying Hi in the background. We said goodbye. It made me smile.

So. I am now home. Locked in my apartment. Ordered in sushi. Drinking a glass of wine and looking forward to the white chocolate I bought for myself today while my puppy is curled up in my lap.

I can honestly, without a doubt say that my life is good.

It is not easy.

It does not always make me dance on the hills happy.

But it's good.

Because I have people in my life that care enough for me to call. To want to spend time with me. To want to keep me in their life.

It's indulgent, and probably a lot self-centered. But it matters.

To me.

Yes, I'm single. Yes, it's pretty close to like having the plague.

2009-02-11T12:56:00.005-06:00

Ok, I know I've said this before - but I'm pretty cynical. I'm constantly trying to read people to figure out what makes them tick and what their real motives are. That trait can be very good in some things - especially my job - but it makes things pretty difficult for my personal life.

You could blame my cynicism on many things.....but it sure doesn't help that I work in politics.

Anyways, that's totally not what this post is about. I have a BIG confession to make.......and given that I don't know most of you from Adam, I'm cool with it. (besides my sister who was being quite the private investigator and found my blog - trap shut, k? thanks.)

I did it. I took the leap into the abyss of desperate single people and signed up for Eharmony.

Now, before you all give me the, "Aww, that's great. Good for you." Barf. Don't even go there.

You see all of my friends are married. Every. Flippin'. One. Of. Them. Including my baby sister. Now, they're starting to procreate - they're even better at that then they were getting married! Needless to say, Mofabulous feels a tad bit behind the times sometimes. It's not panic attack time yet, but I'm sure the moment will come. I've always said by the time I get to my first marriage, my bridesmaids will be working on their second.....just kidding, yeah - maybe.

I know, I know - you see those cheesy commercials all the time about how 547,369 million something or other people get married every day that met on Eharmony.

Puh-leeze. I don't need a marriage - I just need a freakin' lunch date!

Correction - I need a freakin' lunch date with someone that isn't otherwise eternally bound to another.......or over 40...........or someone carrying an embryo that will eventually join us on the lunch dates and end up grossing me out with their food habits......

Now, I love my job (hence the people over 40), I love my friends, I love their husbands, and I triple love their embryos turned children - but God, help me. Is it too much to ask for someone of the opposite sex to be there just to enjoy conversation with me?

Goodness, I hope not - because otherwise, I'd say I'm pretty screwed.

Anyways, after going through the zillion pages for the "personality" portion of the test, I get sent my most compatible matches.

Oh Lord. It's like high school all over again. I mean seriously, all kinds of anxiety. I start to rethink everything I've entered into my profile:
____________________________________

"Is this my skinny picture?"

After re-reading my ABOUT ME section, "God, I'm boring."

How do you spend your free time?: "Um - lock myself in my apartment, put on my pj's, pour a glass of wine, and zone out watching trashy reality tv." No, No, No that doesn't sound so good Mofabulous.......must say, "volunteers at kids camps, Captain of my office's co-ed volleyball team, and do a "little" swimsuit modeling on the weekends.

Education level: Well, I once won a game of 'Asshole' (the drinking card game for all of you GRADUATES out there) - while I was in College.....we started with 8 players....yeah, I should've gotten a plaque or diploma for that one. I did attend 2 different colleges though, ok......let's just say.....Education level: Diverse.

One thing only Mofabulous' best friends know about her is: How the hell do I know? And I'm sure most of those answers aren't necessarily good ones.....why would anyone want to admit that? My best friends could come up with some doozy's - and none of them would attract the opposite sex. You can take that one to the bank.

Some additional information Mofabulous wanted you to know: Um, I'm not a freak - just high strung.....constantly distracted.....and when nervous, I start giggling so much that I give myself the hiccups. Sexy, huh?
____________________________________

I mean seriously?!?!?! As if it isn't enough torture actually paying good money to GET A DATE. Now, you're making me evaluate myself?

Somebody get me the wine and xanax, stat.

Because I can't think of anything witty to say.....

2009-02-04T11:54:00.003-06:00

It's either a full moon or life is really this crappy right now....either way, I need a laugh - and probably a lot of wine.

You could probably use a laugh too.....

Go HERE.

I dare you not to snicker.

Random thoughts.....Acts of Desperation

2009-01-29T16:04:00.008-06:00

As cynical as I am - oh and I'm mighty cynical - it never ceases to amaze me how naive I can be about people sometimes.

In light of certain events that have happened this week, I've been thinking a lot about what pushes people to do the things they do - and where along the way did they get so desperate that they felt they had to do them?

Was there one moment where they made the decision to do wrong or did it just evolve over time until they've convinced themselves that it's justified?

Was there one person in their life that could have reached out to them to help, but didn't?

Now, there's certainly different levels of desperation that go on in one's life and thankfully, I've never been stuck somewhere that I couldn't find my way out somehow - no matter how bleak it seemed.....

I was in 1st grade and we were given a worksheet of math problems to do. I got bored with it at about the 2nd question in and assuming my teacher was a Grade A idiot and didn't pay any attention to the answers, I just zoomed through it and wrote down a number for the answer on each question. Later that day, it was given back to me with a not-so-good grade and a nice little space at the bottom for one of my parents to sign it. I was terrified. Surely, I could get out of this without having to show my parents. So - like any first grade criminal would do, I got home - went straight to my room - and wrote VERY NEATLY, IN PERFECT PRINT, my mother's full name - middle and everything! Oh, and in pencil too.

Things were not happy in the Mofabulous household the next evening. But, in my mind there couldn't be anything worse than admitting I had failed. (because I was bored - and hated math!)

___________

Then - there was the time in Junior High where my parent's were at the peak of their troubles in their marriage. Being the oldest, I heard and sensed it all the time - and with a mother who was at her wits end - but didn't have enough sense to keep her trap shut for her children's sake - I ended up knowing way too much than a 13 year old should about a marriage and it's impending doom. It was a week before they would sit both my sister and I down to tell us my Dad was moving out. I knew it was coming and my mom confirmed it with me and told me when it was going to happen. My Dad didn't have a clue his 13 year old daughter knew he was moving out of the house before he did.

It all got to be too much, I called my BFF at the time and told her I was going to pack a bag that night - she should pack one too, because we were going to run far, far away. We would put our money together and buy a bus ticket. I was going to spend the night at her house and we'd sneak out in the middle of the night and make a run for it. So I made it to her house - we packed the bags, some food, and counted our money.

We ended up falling asleep watching Adventures in Babysitting and woke up the next morning to her Mom cooking us pancakes. Guess we weren't that desperate, but it seemed like monumental desperation to escape at the time.

_________

And I won't even go into the time when my friend and I were in high school and at a grocery store - bought about $50 worth of crap, but decided to pocket some lipstick - ok, maybe I will. We were old enough to not have our parents called, but young enough to not get hauled away - the cop wrote us a ticket and scared the bejesus out of us. We looked up the fines for shoplifting and concocted all sorts of plans to get the $$$ to pay for those fines - none of them really legal. We were desperate - our life as we knew it was over. Then we find out the ticket was never turned in - the scary cop took mercy on us - hallelujah. Little did he know he might have saved us from being career criminals with the ideas we had........Just kidding - maybe. We thought it was over - then the store sent a letter saying we were banned for life from trespassing - I would have still gotten away with it had I not had a mother that opened up mail with my name on it so she could destroy any credit cards being sent to me.

Another not so happy time in the Mofabulous household. Who knew two parents that had been divorced for 4 years could come back together so quickly to torture their child?

Anyways, my point is....and I think I have one somewhere.....is that looking back on these things - they all seem so absurd to me now, but I distinctly remember the fear that I felt - the hopelessness (no matter how unfounded it was) - and the desperation. It was real - and it hurt.

As we get older, the things we do have a lot heavier consequences that go along with them. The stakes are high - we're not only gambling with our own future - our acts affect others futures as well even if we don't realize it.

There are lives that will be forever changed somehow, some way, by our actions today.

I just hope I never get into a box that I have to make a decision out of pure desperation that will forever change me.

In the midst of the walls falling down of those around me, I can't help but be thankful that today at least - I have something to hold on to.

I personally prefer to stay the cynical, naive, almost-criminal, that I am.

Finally. The claws have come out.

2009-01-21T09:54:00.004-06:00

So, with the beginning of a new year, I made many resolutions for myself. One of which.....along with several million other people.....was to lose some serious poundage.

I really want to be able to lay out by the pool this year without the thought of doing it in a sweatsuit worn over my bathing suit. Dear God, please, I've been good, promise, really.

Anyways, I started working out with a trainer last August in order to keep me motivated because if I have an appointment with someone else I will usually keep it - even if it does involve torture. An appointment with myself - hmmm, not so much. So I lost about 25 lbs prior to the holidays.....gained 2 over the holidays.....now I'm down 5lbs since the beginning of January. Follow that? Great. Moving on.

Anyways, I work in an office that consists of all secretary's and executive assistants and because our jobs are pretty sedentary - there are but a few of us that are skinny - really because they were just born blessed that way. And if any of you have ever worked in an office setting particularly with mostly women co-workers, you understand we celebrate every flippin' milestone anyone has. Dear Lord, it's ridiculous. I plan on taking off work for all of mine, because I just can't smile that much.

So - we have this one lady that is forever trying to get us to do weight-loss contests. Bless her heart, she really does want to do it for the right reasons - unfortunately, not everyone always wants to participate. So last July, she started a contest where everyone who wanted to participate put in $10 and we ended it right before Thanksgiving. The one who lost the most weight got the pot at the end. $160.

Who won you ask? Well, that would be ME - Mofabulous! To be truthful here, it wasn't that I lost that much really (it evened out to about 15 lbs) - it was just that most of them didn't do anything to lose it.

So - with the beginning of 2009 - our dear office cheerleader has started another contest.

Groan.

But, like I said her heart is in the right place so I said sure - I'll participate. This time we're all putting in $20.

The big difference in this contest than last year besides the prize money?????

These women are bitchy. Truly haters. I mean the claws are really out. I've had at least 2 people tell me I shouldn't participate because I won last time.

Who's fault is that??? I did not make you shove a piece a cake in your mouth every freakin' time we have a party in this office! And I certainly didn't make you order that greasy take-out for lunch every freakin' day.

They're partaking in the hater-ade and I don't appreciate it.

So, I fired off an email to my trainer as soon as we all finished our initial "weigh-in" here at the office:

*******
I know I'm addicted to email instead of actual phone-talking and I know you rarely check it, but unfortunately I'm not one of the cool kids with the text messaging so deal - k? Thanks.

Anyways - the dear assistants and secretary's in my office started a "Fine in 2009" weight-loss contest that ends May 23rd. (I am fully aware of the cheesy title of the contest - remember, everyone here is at least twice my age, they think it's cool). The winner gets around $260 (we are putting in $20 each).

And because I beat them last time - they're being extra bitchy to me for participating, which makes me want to kick their ass.....HARD - and maybe even make them cry about their lonely bon-bon eating selves. I'm not bitter, really.

So - May 24th I expect to be $260 richer - just thought you should be aware. Let's do this.

*******

Bring.

It.

On.

I should have just gone back to bed.

2009-01-14T10:03:00.002-06:00

Who: 1 pastor, 2 deacons - guests of our office to give the invocation at the Council Meeting - the Mayor, and Mr. Big Cheese.

Setting: Mayor's Conference Room

When: 5 minutes until Council begins

Introductions are being made - they set up for a picture to be taken. MoFabulous holds the camera up and counts to 3.....uh-oh....something's wrong with the camera - everyone's washed out - you can't see their faces.....what do I do?

Close the blinds to make it darker - nope - still washed out.

Move everyone out into the hallway in front of the flags - nope, still washed out.

Ask the Mayor's speech writer to grab another camera while Mr. Big Cheese is giving me the stink eye and the Mayor is anxious to start the meeting as it is now 9:02am. Turn around to grab the new camera - phone falls out of my hands and onto the ground in a million pieces (new phone by the way - in front of all of these people)......must not say nasty words - remember, you're in front of a pastor here

.......boss still giving me the stink eye.....man, I'm sweating now - why is it so hot in here?

Mayor's speech writer gracefully gives me a sympathetic look, takes the camera from me, and snaps the picture. Everyone rushes past Mofabulous who is in a dress and heels picking up the pieces to her phone to get to the meeting. Mofabulous makes her way to the meeting - prays with the rest of the dignitaries - says the pledge of allegiance - and promptly gets called into the Mayor's secret hallway to get yelled at by Mr. Big Cheese.

Mofabulous then promptly makes her way back to her office takes her jacket off because she's still sweating and laughs her behind off. Because really - could the day start off any worse?????

Here's hoping you're having a better day than I.

I'm so excited, and I just can't hide it!

2008-12-22T21:47:00.006-06:00

No, No. This is not about our favorite Saved by the Bell episode. And you get 10 extra points in my book if that's immediately what you thought of!

Poor Jessie. I feel your pain. Anyhoo.

Nope, I am sooo excited for Mr. and Mrs. V......my total BFF's.......are going to have a BABY V!!!!

So.

Freakin'.

Excited!

Oh my goodness, I just can't stand it. What a great Christmas present! Baby V will be so blessed to have such fun parents.

And, just because I'm sure this baby will have a 'tude like her Momma (ooooh, Momma V-I'm liking the new nickname!) at the most precious moments of course.....Baby V - I'll love you even when you give me that "LOOK." Promise.

Like the new digs??

2008-12-22T21:37:00.004-06:00

Before I get back into the blogging mode - I'd like to take a moment to give someone a special THANK YOU!

Thanks so much to THE DRAMA MAMA for the new blog layout! Isn't it fabulous?!?!? If you haven't already - take a moment to stop by her blog and read about her cute family.....and if you want to make your space just as fabulous as mine - show her some love over at DRAMA MAMA DESIGNS. She's so creative and easy to work with....and does it all for a very reasonable price!

Now - with this new place we can really start this party, who's bringing the cocktails?

Hello, Mr. Bartender? Can you put my mom on the phone?

2008-12-16T09:41:00.008-06:00

I'm feeling older by the second. Or at least a lot closer to therapy.

I would consider my family fairly normal. However, they have many....many quirks that I'm pretty used to by now, but new members of the family might find rather annoying - like my new brother-in-law who can't get over the fact that he may have only been part of our family for about 8 months now - but his business is our business now so deal with it. But, I digress - whole 'nother blog post people.

For instance, although I may be almost 28 years old, have a great job, and have lived on my own and supported myself for many years now.....I still know that when the weathers bad outside like the winter sleet/cold/ice - whatever it is that's happening right now......I will have to put up with my sister, grandmother, dad, and mother all calling to make sure I made it to work and home ok. It's a fact of life and it doesn't really bother me anymore, in fact it's nice to know I have people in this world that worry if I make it home ok or not however intrusive it may seem at the time.

What DOES bother me is that I think I'm becoming one of the over-protective, obsessive family members as well. You see, for the 2nd time in 3 weeks I have wigged out about not being able to get a hold of my mother. Now in my defense, I wigged out for very good reason.

The first time was the night before Thanksgiving and my sister nor I had heard from her all day and she wasn't answering her cell phone. This is VERY unusual because 1) She has her cell phone literally attached to her head at all times (including in movies - which is why I refuse to go with her anymore) and 2) the day before a holiday like this she's usually calling both of us with last minute instructions of where we need to be and what we need to bring with us to the family gathering. The next time was last night - the streets were starting to ice and I wanted to make sure she was packed in at her home for the night. Now, I know what you're thinking - she's the mom I'm the child.....none of my business, right? Wrong. It is my business - because my mother lives by herself and my sister lives all the way out in Egypt - so if ANYTHING goes wrong - it's all on me folks. As the first born, it's my responsibility to come to the rescue. That's not me being a martyr - it's just plain fact.

You see, my mother is not the "typical" mom. She's very young at heart, loves too easily when it comes to men - which leads to her absolute fear of being alone, and probably has way more exciting stories to tell about her life than me. Although she'd never tell me because my fear of embarassment is way too overwhelming. So, because of her non-traditional existence, she has formed a non-traditional group of friends......from a local restaurant......at the bar. She and one of her friends even threw the bartender and his wife a baby shower. Now, I'm not a prude - I enjoy the whole "cheers" ambiance of a local bar and I could care less that that is where she is - I just don't know why it's so hard to LEAVE YOUR CELL PHONE ON THE BAR SO YOU CAN SEE WHEN YOUR CHILDREN ARE CALLING YOU 5 BILLION TIMES IN A ROW BECAUSE WE ARE CONCERNED ABOUT YOUR SAFETY AND ARE HAVING VISIONS OF YOU IN A DARK ALLEY DYING SOMEWHERE!

So, as a last resort both times we couldn't get a hold of her I - the older sister who could really justify a high dosage of xanex - called Mr. Bartender at the local bar looking for her mother.

And Yes.

Both times she was there.

And No. She didn't apologize nor did I for calling to look for her at a bar.

But she did offer to buy me a drink if I came with her next time.

Yep - That'll make up for everything. Whatever.

Um....I think it's called a crush.....

2008-12-13T10:06:00.004-06:00

Bear with me dear bloggers.....this is a long one!

So, I've never really dated much. Growing up I always had several guy friends and some of those relationships turned into more than others But, I never had the traditional "boyfriend." I know it might seem strange, but I still consider myself somewhat normal. When I was younger I used to HATE that most of the guys we hung out with would always tell me that I was such a good friend and that they could tell me things they couldn't trust with others.....I was like a sister. Ugh. HATED. But, now when I look back, I consider it a blessing. It provided me much needed insight into the then "mystery" of a boys mind. And I say boy because I'm convinced they never really grow up. Sure, they grow to have more responsibilities and most of them make great decisions in their life and take on the role of husband and leaders of their family like a man should, but they're still just overgrown boys.

I wasn't like all of my other girlfriends, they almost always had boyfriends and from the time I was 16, I got used to being the only one without a date. When we moved into the early 20's stage, I got used to being the "we gotta go girl" - you know, the friend that the guy who's hitting on your friend has to keep happy by buying her drinks too in order for me to keep my friend around long enough for the guy to get her number......or the friend to come up with some excuse of why we have to go home now because this guy is weirding us out. I was the scapegoat. I grew so used to it that I just stopped looking for myself anymore. It just wasn't worth the pressure. Much to the disappointment of some of my girlfriends. So, when they were using their 20's to find the love of their lives, get married (OMG - I have ALL the bridesmaids dresses to prove it.), and now starting to have their babies, I was working on my career. Now, that I'm settled in my career, I find myself thinking, "Ok Life, there's GOT to be something more for me here." Now, lest you think I have something seriously wrong with me, I don't. At least I haven't figured out what it is yet to notice anyway. I just haven't found someone that's worth all the butterflies in the stomach and the pain of the thought of them walking out of my life.......and I certainly haven't found anyone that thinks I'm worth that to them. But, I still have hope - it's fleeting sometimes, but it's there.

Which brings me to my strange experience last week. On Monday, I get a phone call from someone that I've worked with in the past on the Big Cheese's political campaign. He works for a US Congressman and called to ask if he could come by my office on Tuesday and introduce me to a new guy that will be taking his place in the local office of the Congressman. I said sure, so we set the time and that was that. We'll call the current guy, Mr. P and the new guy Mr. weird lip curl guy (to be explained in a moment.) So on Tuesday, I get a call from security that these two are here to see me. I walked through the office and opened the door to the hallway and I SWEAR, time stopped. Mr. P was standing there all dressed up in a suit (I'm a sucker for guys in suits) and walked over to give me a hug and proceeded to introduce me to Mr. weird lip curl guy. Side note: I swear this new kid is a pretty boy and makes the weirdes lip curl like Elvis when he smiles.....so strange. Anyways, I awkwardly hug Mr. P and give a handshake to Mr. weird lip curl guy. We walk into the offices and I have to take them to a seating area because Mr. Big Cheese was currently holding an impromptu meeting in my office. They sit down in two of the chairs and I plop myself down across from them. At this point I'm so nervous I can't stand it and I don't have a clue why. Their talking and I can't hear them over the LOUDNESS of my thoughts......"this guy is so cute - why haven't I noticed it before" were among the thoughts going through my mind. I keep crossing and uncrossing my legs because I'm so nervous and I'm just waiting for them to ask me what's wrong. Mr. P then proceeds to get up and takes the chair right next to me because he needs to talk to me about something that he doesn't want other people in the office to hear......so NOW he's like 2.5 inches from my face! Oh my goodness, my face and neck are in a permanent state of bright red and I'm having a hard time breathing. There goes the LOUD thoughts again "he smells so good, why does he smell that good?!?!?" He's smiling and talking to me, but I don't have a clue what's coming out of his mouth. So, after telling them about an event we were having that Saturday, they said they would try to come by as our constituents are theirs as well. We talk for a few more minutes and then Mr P says they have to go to another meeting. As I'm walking them out I realize poor Mr. Weird lip curl guy was sitting silent most of the time and I haven't even so much as acknowledged him. Oh well. I then proceed back to my office with a ringing in my ears wondering what just happened.

So, now it's Saturday (I warned you this is a long post). In the midst of all the crazy event planning I had forgotten they said they would come by. So, the event had been going on for about half an hour, and I was taking pictures of the entertainment on stage when I feel a hand at the small of my back and someone started whispering in my ear. He said, "who's the pretty girl in the santa hat." (yes, I was wearing a santa hat - sue me - I was being festive.) You guessed it, Mr. P. I immediately flushed red when he started giving me a hug. Ugh. WHY does this keep happening to me?!?!? I get cotton mouth and it's hard to speak now. I look past him and Mr. Weird lip curl guy is just standing there silent and smirking.....I wonder now if he could tell how nervous Mr. P was making me. Anyhoo - they left to go mingle and say hello to Mr. Big Cheese while I stood there like an idiot cursing my body for selling me out and so confused about why I was reacting this way.

Now, if all of that wasn't horrible enough - before they leave Mr. P comes up to me and says they need to go now and leans over to give me a kiss on the cheek, a hug, and tells me "Merry Christmas". Again....so embarassed, bright red, can't breathe, seeing spots......body
selling.
me.
out.

I was such a dork, I just stood there and waved and said Merry Christmas! Ugh.

So I was so confused and I just had to replay this strange experience to Mrs. V.....and after laughing about it and appropriately feeling awkward for me she said slowly...."Um....Mofabulous.....I think it's called a crush."

Huh. So THAT'S what that was.

Well, Mr. P is moving to D.C. in the spring to continue working for Mr. Even Bigger Cheese and is going to leave me with my mortified thoughts here in the big city.

Oh well. At least I know the side of my brain that even considers those options isn't so far gone that it's lost its way home. Thank goodness for the recharge. I may not be hopeless after all.

TGIF!!

2008-12-12T08:20:00.002-06:00

Whew, thank GOD it's Friday!

Quick post as I actually have to work today. The Big Cheese is having his annual Christmas party (yes Christmas.....not Holiday party) tomorrow night and I have a zillion last minute things to do. I actually sprung out of bed this morning with at least 3 things on my mind that I had completely forgotten to do/reserve....ugh! So - I'm on to the phone calls where I will put on my sweetest most apologetic voice to get what I need in less than 48 hours......

But....

Before we leave, I'd like to give a SHOUT out to my first 2 followers.....woo-hoo!

Thanks for stopping by and may this be a fantastic Friday for you~I hope to update again tonight!

Welcome Mrs. V !

2008-12-11T12:17:00.003-06:00

So, I gave in to staying completely anonymous. I just couldn't help it. Here was my plea to Mrs. V via email this morning. She graciously accepted - I think, we'll see.
________________________________________________________________

If I told you I had a blog what would you say?

And if I told you that I would only send you the address to that blog if you signed a confidentiality agreement what would you say?

You see, I have a hard time keeping a secret just to myself. I can keep a secret for someone else, but never just about myself. There has to be at least one person that knows. I mean what if something were to happen to me and NO ONE knew I had this blog? That would be just awful.

I've only had it about two weeks.....

*it may or may not last

*it will sometimes be a lot superficial

*who knows, it may take a turn for sentimental sometimes

*it may contain completely embarassing insight to how my brain works

*and I do solemnly swear that these blogger friends will not interfere with our 'real-life' friendship. swear.

So - if you'd like to carry this burden let me know. Besides, right now - I have no "followers" on my blog and it makes me sad. I don't need that depression right now.

L.Y.L.A.P.L.L.P.A.I.C.

Mindy

Love you like a pregnant lady loves pickles and ice cream

Guitar Hero from Hell....

2008-12-11T09:23:00.003-06:00

I love apartment life. I really do. I mean I guess I would have to being as I've lived in one for the past 9 years or so. I enjoy living right smack dab in the middle of the city. I love that the city's skyline means home to me.

I embrace the fact that if I have to go down the street to the nearest 7-11 cornerstore for a slurpee or perhaps an adult beverage, I will have to encounter at least two homeless people calling me "Baby." I don't mind the fact that I live near a major hospital and consequently will have to hear care flight choppers and ambulance/police sirens at all odd hours of the day. I don't even mind (that much) that my car has been broken into....twice.....it's a trade - however unfair - I understand, it's a trade.

I get it. In order to have my downtown apartment life - I have to exchange the sometimes silent nights for raucous happenings.

I do NOT however have patience for my newest apartment neighbor who either has a terrible hearing problem or a sick obsession with guitar hero. Night after night after night after night. And sometimes even the morning!

You see, the way our apartments are, my bedroom backs up to this guys living room. After many nights of laying awake listening to the boom-boom of the tv or stereo or whatever, I have determined that it has to be guitar hero or rock band - there's nothing else that could be making those noises. Now, I must admit - I love me some rock band and have played it once or twice until about 2 in the morning.....but this was at a friends HOUSE.....in their SOUNDPROOF THEATER ROOM! One Saturday night he literally went on and on until I got up to go to church in the morning. At about 3am or so I resorted to banging on the wall to get his attention - but nothing, nada, zippo - no reaction.

It was the type of annoying that made me want to cry and I was so desperate, I almost ran screaming into the sub-zero temperatures outside - in my pj's no less - to confront this guitar-hero loving monster.

But common sense prevailed......

Aargh......I may be the brave girl living alone in this big city - but hey, I ain't stupid.

I'll just buy some ear-plugs. Take THAT neighbor boy.

On Saturday nights and Awful Lifetime Movies.....

2008-12-07T20:32:00.003-06:00

So this past Saturday afternoon I found myself exhausted from work and in need of some girl time. You know, the kind where you can show up in ratty clothes, sit your butt on their couch, kick your shoes off (even when they have not been pedicured in a month....a month people!), and just talk about nonsense.

That's exactly what I did - I headed over to Mrs. V's apartment (that's what I've decided to call her) and just completely vegged out. She said she was cooking dinner and her husband would be working late so I should just come over. Who am I to turn down free food and girl talk?

So, after being good by eating a healthy chicken taco salad, we promptly began to ruin it by getting into the chocolate (that she stole from her Christmas stocking!), and started talking.

There was plenty of pointless conversation, analyzing a surprising event that happened to me this week (that's a whole other blog coming), and lots of laughs. At around 9pm when we were switching the channel between QVC, HSN, and Lifetime trying to finish watching this awful movie that we mistakingly started but for some reason just had to watch until the end I stopped and looked at us......two girls in our late twenties, on a Saturday night, clutching pillows and eating chocolate while watching a Lifetime movie aptly named "Flirting with Forty" starring Heather Locklear (who may be hot for her age and I do hope I look a fraction of that good when I get to be her real age....but man.....40 is pushing it for a role for her to play these days....)......I didn't know whether to laugh at that or cry about how uneventful my Saturday nights now are. (Whew, that was a long sentence, I know.)

What I do know is that I felt very lucky to have a place where I can come vent all of my life's crazy happenings and my even crazier thoughts about them. Just a few years ago - I would have been just leaving my apartment headed to another friends apartment to get ready to go out for the night. My, my how life changes.

Sometimes I do get a twinge of "oh no, I've left the adventurous years behind, now I'm well on my way to be the old maid of the neighborhood - the one that's married to her job and nothing else" but all in all, I have more of a feeling of contentment that I'm right where I should be - finally able to relax and enjoy where life has taken me and anxiously waiting to find out where it will go next.....and I know the friends I have in my life are those that have been carefully chosen with all the dramatic fair-weather friends weeded out.

I may not be tomorrow, but today - I'm happy enough - unpedicured feet and all.

Now THAT's something to blog about!

2008-12-07T19:25:00.003-06:00

Ok Bloggers,

I know it's been a whole week since my first post. It's too soon for me to be slacking like this, but in my defense it has been an insane week at work. I've just been exhausted after working 12 plus hour days. We had a big event yesterday that I was preparing for and OMG - let me tell you I am SO.GLAD.IT.IS.OVER! Now, one more event for the holiday season and I will finally get back to the normal flow and actually enjoy the holidays. I love me some Christmas and I can't wait to finish my shopping and get on with the festivities.

Also, I've been thinking about things to blog about and I always think of good things when I'm not in a place where I can write them down....when I finally sit down at the computer my mind just goes blank! Ugh. It's frustrating. I'm starting to accept the fact that I can be a little bit of a perfectionist and I'm just putting way to much pressure on myself to make this blog interesting or even halfway funny. I mean come on - I've only posted once and have had one comment....by the way Thanks Lizzie Fish! I love your blogs! - so it shouldn't be that important.

Anyhoo - so I've decided to just post about whatever funny situations come up or whatever is on my mind. I usually think that my life isn't that interesting, but after recounting things to my very good friend on numerous occasions....she always reminds me.....now THAT's something to blog about. Which is too funny to me, because she has no idea I've actually started this blog already.

So - now, pressure's off thank you very much. I promise to be more faithful to you and to not judge myself before I even start typing.

Yes, I understand this makes me sound a bit crazy, but hey - this is my party and I can over-analyze all I want to.

Hey Beautiful....

2008-12-04T08:28:00.005-06:00

No, I'm not hitting on you - it's too early in this blog thing to get that wierd.

Nope, that's what I get to hear every morning from our Security Guard here at work. Now - some of you may find that creepy, and normally I would and avoid him in the future at all costs. But, surprisingly it doesn't creep me out. Things like that usually would - but it just makes me smile. Don't get me wrong.....there is no attraction here.....I mean no offense to him, but he's a middle-aged balding man who I know loves the "soul food" because I can see it and because he comments about how his "old lady" packs it for his lunch. And hey - he may say that to every woman that gets off the elevator on our floor, but I prefer to think it's just for me. It's even funnier when I have several things in my hands and he asks if I need help with the door....when I say no, thanks.....he says, "Good lookin' and capable!" Again-somehow he makes it sound totally non-creepy. That's a gift I tell ya. And really he should pass that gift along to all the seriously creepy guys out there.

Now, in a normal persons mind one might start to think "Wow, that guy is so nice. He makes me smile every morning just by saying that to me. I should really try to make someone elses day by telling them something nice." Yes, that is what a normal, nice, kind-hearted person would think.

You guessed it. Not me. This is what goes through my mind.

"Wow, am I so desperate for attention that I think he really thinks that"

"Am I so lacking of social interaction in my life that his one comment every morning makes me this happy?"

"Goodness Mo Fabulous, you need to get a grip. No! He IS a creep - you are just so desperate for someone to say these things to you that you are COMPLETELY losing it and making those guys that you see in movies that whistle at girls on the street look like saints!"

Yep, I realize I have issues, I do.

And they said it wouldn't last.....

2008-11-30T18:46:00.002-06:00

So, here we are. After months of reading perfect strangers blogs, I have decided to start my own. I am by no means a talented writer, but I love the idea of being able to write down my thoughts (whatever they might be) and soak up any advice people might want to give. ......unless of course I don't like it.....but, hey - this is my blog, right?

I've decided not to tell anyone I know about this blog just yet. I have no idea if I will stick with it or end up divulging too many thoughts I don't want people I see every day to know about. We will see, I hope it becomes something I will look forward to doing on a daily basis and if it does, I may let a few in on this "secret life."

So.....in the interest of not sounding too self-absorbed, I feel the need to give all you bloggers out there some sort of bio on me, here goes:

Name: Nunyabusiness

Occupation: Girl Friday to the Big Cheese

Company: Local Government

Interests: Blogstalking, reading, political campaigns (don't worry - I by NO means want to start the political rants on here - as long as you care it doesn't matter to me which side you're on), psychology, love having good drinks with great friends on a nice patio, music, and singing very loudly in a not so good voice to said music. Oh....and I have a very unhealthy interest in trashy reality tv shows - you're right.....it IS like watching a train wreck. I just can't help myself.

Pet Peeves: Bad spelling and grammar, gum smackers, people talking with food in their mouths - there's many more, but we want this to get off to a good start, right?

Guilty pleasures: cookie dough, wine, blue cheese stuffed olives, thunderstorms, serial killer documentaries on some obscure cable channel, (I'm only admitting this because I happen to be watching one right now....don't judge!), red nailpolish, finding out things about people I knew 10 years ago via the internet - I missed my calling to be a private investigator, and finally - personal training sessions at the gym....ok, well mostly just spending the 50 minutes with Mr. Personal Trainer (see cookie dough and wine above.....)

So - that's the very shallow version of my bio. Wanna be blogger friends?!?!?