I fell off the bootcamp blogging bandwagon. I made it to 10 out of 12 classes, lost 10 lbs, and rediscovered some new curves. I looked forward to jumping on the scale to see the number drop rather than wince at the digits staring back at me. Coincidentally, I also got naked in front of a hot guy with muscles and tattoos right about the end of bootcamp. We'll just leave that story alone for now.
Day 10, it started to rain and before I even saw the rain, I felt it in my joints. I didn't go. End of story. I beat myself up over it a little, but then I fell asleep on the couch.
Day 11, Wednesday, Hump Day, the rain was still coming down so we had to go inside to the indoor soccer field. I used to play soccer there once upon a time. It was musty that morning, smelled like a sweat sock or a boy's room or a gym locker, or all of those combined. Yes, lovely. It was humid, like an armpit. Yes, lovely. We ran a lot and I sweat. A lot. I think if there was an award for who gets to sweat the most, I would win it. My glands are in it to win it. I remember feeling tired, but stronger than usual. I was wearing my "feel your boobies" tshirt. It was jiggling. Gotta get me a new sports bra, note to self.
Day 12, Friday, the last day that I had on the books, and I was a little bit sad. Sadness, aside, my body said NOOOOO! but my mind said GOOOOO!!! and so I went. Back to the sweaty, stinky, musty indoor soccer field. The routine for the last day was this: SPRINT(!!) to the middle of the line on the field, do 10 walking lunches, 10 some kind of football strength training exercise jumping in and out of a ladder thing, run around a cone, pick up another cone, read the exercise, and do 20 of those...finished? Ok, go do it again! This went on for an hour and sprint my chubby butt I did. I was having flashbacks of playing on an adult co-ed indoor soccer team a few years back. My first indoor soccer game, I got in the penalty box within 5 minutes. I was blue carded. Soccer is not my forte apparently.
I ran fast, long, and lean and made every step count. I really pushed myself to the limits. I was proud of myself, pretended like I was racing an imaginary someone and before an hour had passed by and I beat down another early morning AM workout.
I lost 10 lbs. 10 lbs in 4 weeks! My body still has a good metabolism and it takes well to the right kinds of exercise. I may have given up on my body temporarily, but it hasn't given up on me. I gained something too. A new found appreciation and desire to be fit, to move my body, to feel confident, to eat right, to walk the dog more often, to put myself first, to be unapologetically obsessed with being the best version of me that I can be, to accomplish #9 and fucking flaunt it, to be the center of attention and like it, to look like I feel, to be happy inside and out. I gained so much more than I lost really. Well, I gained and I lost at the exact same time and one was because of the other.
***Post bootcamp, 2 days after my last bootcamp, the usual soreness was lingering a little too long in my right knee. Come Monday afternoon, it was hot to the touch, Tuesday and some icing later, it was better when the Doc took a look at it, Wednesday, it started to make noise. Now today, more than 2 weeks after my last bootcamp, it sounds like a bowl of rice crispies, I feel a little old and a little broken. I didn't join up for the bootcamp that's in session now because I have been temporarily banned from a) running b) squatting and c) lunging = the bootcamp trifecta. I shed a small tear, I made a small sad face, but I'm just a little bent, my knee cartilage is a little bruised, but my fitness spirit is not broken. Not one bit. All this limping around is making me want to get out and move!!
I'm really glad my innervoice took over in the midst of an internal pity party and forced me to buy that bootcamp package. It was one of the best things I've done for me in a long, long time. Cheers to bootcamp. I'll be back!
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The adventures and confessions of a single girl, travel junkie, shopaholic, amateur photographer, prodigal scrapbooker, social drinker, public servant, sister, daughter, friend, klutz, and nap time professional who keeps looking for the hidden meaning in it all. These are the scenes from my life.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
don't you dare!
I just saw this tag line on the header for a dating profile and it strikes a chord with me: "Never chase love, affection, or attention. If it isn't freely given by another person, it isn't worth having."
Amen and amen.
Amen and amen.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
30 things: Day 21
Day 21, a picture of something that makes you happy.
Well, over the course of the last 7 years, I managed to whittle down the beings that share my house from my mom, my brother, my sister, my dad, 1 out of 3 cats, and 1 out of 2 dogs. Emma remains and she is a good roommate even if she barks too loud, farts too much, and eats the garbage.
Emma and I were not always friends. I was not her favorite, but I am now by default , by walks, and by car rides. There was the time she dug a hole in my new couch. There was the time when she was doing hurdles with the old dog in the backyard while I was trying to sleep during the day fresh off a graveyard shift. There was the time she puked all over the rug like she was trying out for the Exorcist. Emma is a big girl, but she's sweet. She'll bark at anything that dares to come to the door or make a noise on her turf, but she won't bite you (unless you're delivering some kind of mail related thing) and she uses her big, floppy lips to gently scoop up treats and snackies from anyone. She likes little kids and she wants to be friends with everything, even racoons. Emma does not like to be alone, so she sleeps on the floor while I watch TV, she follows me to the computer room to put her big, sloppy, wet nose on the back of my arm when I least expect it, she sniffs my face when I'm laying on the couch, she protects me from the little rodent things that are living under the house, and she is my bestest doorbell ever. Just ask the Brinks guy who tried to sell me the burglar alarm last week. Aww, Emma, Emmy, Enema...you big ol' puppy thang you!
Well, over the course of the last 7 years, I managed to whittle down the beings that share my house from my mom, my brother, my sister, my dad, 1 out of 3 cats, and 1 out of 2 dogs. Emma remains and she is a good roommate even if she barks too loud, farts too much, and eats the garbage.
Emma and I were not always friends. I was not her favorite, but I am now by default , by walks, and by car rides. There was the time she dug a hole in my new couch. There was the time when she was doing hurdles with the old dog in the backyard while I was trying to sleep during the day fresh off a graveyard shift. There was the time she puked all over the rug like she was trying out for the Exorcist. Emma is a big girl, but she's sweet. She'll bark at anything that dares to come to the door or make a noise on her turf, but she won't bite you (unless you're delivering some kind of mail related thing) and she uses her big, floppy lips to gently scoop up treats and snackies from anyone. She likes little kids and she wants to be friends with everything, even racoons. Emma does not like to be alone, so she sleeps on the floor while I watch TV, she follows me to the computer room to put her big, sloppy, wet nose on the back of my arm when I least expect it, she sniffs my face when I'm laying on the couch, she protects me from the little rodent things that are living under the house, and she is my bestest doorbell ever. Just ask the Brinks guy who tried to sell me the burglar alarm last week. Aww, Emma, Emmy, Enema...you big ol' puppy thang you!
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Pretty Girl
Quote of the night: "Don't call me pretty if you can't even call me in the first place."
Wanderlust, unbridled creativity, cholesterol, and frustration run through my veins lately. I need to see something, make something, eat less animal, see someone, make out with someone, and then and maybe only then all my needs will be met. (OK, maybe not, but it would be nice to check those off the list for the day).
I don't know what it takes. I really an the anti-expert at what it takes for two people to be connected on some kind of serious level. I mean, I get far enough, have been there more than once, and I am a professional communicator by trade after all, but I just don't get it. I AM great at being single and fed up with this whole mess.
Who made these gawddamned rules anyways!? Who was it that said if you like someone, wait a couple of minutes before you respond back to them, don't want to seem desperate OR hold back, don't reveal too much of yourself right up front OR don't tell them how you feel too early, OR don't' sleep with them on the first date, OR, OR, OR, OR, OR...
Spinning top, stop spinning! I'm not. I'm really not spinning sideways or over thinking this. I just don't get it. I can't figure out the right formula and I know that there is no one answer for anyone because we are all different in so many ways, but I can't help to look around at the people who I know who are happy. Yes, I know more than a handful of those couples who are happy, despite their major ups and their major downs. Face it, life is a spinning top, it's a carnival ride, it's a frigging fight to get the things you want and keep the things you have and love.
As if "the rules" aren't enough, in this uber media driven land we live in, there are SO many friggin ways to get ahold of someone, email, wink, text, call, tweet, leave a post, BUT (and there's a big BUT), I don't know about all you, but I prefer to talk to someone, to hear their voice, to hear their laugh, to hear that smile or question or surprise in their tone...
This is how it goes in my head, but not outside of it. I have resolve, I have grit, I have a helluva lot of self esteem, I know what I want, I know what I won't settle for anymore, and most importantly I have friends, and they make up songs about my man-less situation. It goes a little like this:
Country version by C:
working on his cars
playing with his friends
maybe he should start working on his mind
I don't know why he plays with hearts
but he ain't playing with mine...
Rap version by G:
just cause you have tatts
that don't make you cool
get off your ass
stop acting like a tool
I'm a catch - u better believe
so get off your ass and start chasing me!
Wanderlust, unbridled creativity, cholesterol, and frustration run through my veins lately. I need to see something, make something, eat less animal, see someone, make out with someone, and then and maybe only then all my needs will be met. (OK, maybe not, but it would be nice to check those off the list for the day).
I don't know what it takes. I really an the anti-expert at what it takes for two people to be connected on some kind of serious level. I mean, I get far enough, have been there more than once, and I am a professional communicator by trade after all, but I just don't get it. I AM great at being single and fed up with this whole mess.
Who made these gawddamned rules anyways!? Who was it that said if you like someone, wait a couple of minutes before you respond back to them, don't want to seem desperate OR hold back, don't reveal too much of yourself right up front OR don't tell them how you feel too early, OR don't' sleep with them on the first date, OR, OR, OR, OR, OR...
Spinning top, stop spinning! I'm not. I'm really not spinning sideways or over thinking this. I just don't get it. I can't figure out the right formula and I know that there is no one answer for anyone because we are all different in so many ways, but I can't help to look around at the people who I know who are happy. Yes, I know more than a handful of those couples who are happy, despite their major ups and their major downs. Face it, life is a spinning top, it's a carnival ride, it's a frigging fight to get the things you want and keep the things you have and love.
As if "the rules" aren't enough, in this uber media driven land we live in, there are SO many friggin ways to get ahold of someone, email, wink, text, call, tweet, leave a post, BUT (and there's a big BUT), I don't know about all you, but I prefer to talk to someone, to hear their voice, to hear their laugh, to hear that smile or question or surprise in their tone...
This is how it goes in my head, but not outside of it. I have resolve, I have grit, I have a helluva lot of self esteem, I know what I want, I know what I won't settle for anymore, and most importantly I have friends, and they make up songs about my man-less situation. It goes a little like this:
Country version by C:
working on his cars
playing with his friends
maybe he should start working on his mind
I don't know why he plays with hearts
but he ain't playing with mine...
Rap version by G:
just cause you have tatts
that don't make you cool
get off your ass
stop acting like a tool
I'm a catch - u better believe
so get off your ass and start chasing me!
Monday, October 17, 2011
Big ol'...
Well, it's only been a week and perhaps in that week, I have found myself without tears. It's Monday night, I think it's time to tear up randomly about something. Ok, it's not random. None of this is random.
My door turned out to be a window.
My good intentions backfired again.
Alcohol and the truth have fatal consequences to friendship but sometimes there's just no need for recussitation.
I feel like a doormat.
"Crop" and "unfriend" are apparently the worst things you can do in this day and age.
Some parents have no sense of humor.
I love taking pictures of happy people, couples especially, but somehow I almost feel unqualified to tell them how to look at each other. (I know, I barely want to say that outloud, but I do feel like that sometimes).
It's another night in this house alone.
Online dating profiles make my head hurt.
I think I gained a couple of pounds.
Online dating profiles make my knee hurt.
My knee hurts and I can't go to bootcamp again until it stops.
Tomorrow is my last day off.
I'm definitely dehydrated.
The universe saw me.
I'm not that girl anymore even if I stayed all night.
I'm frustrated.
I don't get it.
I'm a catch.
I know that.
Some people just can't be saved from themselves no matter how much you love them.
I have a copy of He's Just Not That Into You on my bathroom counter and then I have a copy of What Men Really Want lying on the empty spot on my bed. Yeah, laugh, don't cry...that is pretty funny.
It occured to me that I want someone who is just on my team so that when this list starts to grow like it is today, someone can just say to me: it's ok, this too shall pass, I'm always there for you, to the end. 150%, madly, truly, deeply, undeniably Team Lauren no matter what kind of ridiculous bullshit it's about. Life IS a fight and we should all be so lucky to have someone in our corner no matter what.
I have this sinking suspicion that really genuine happiness is just around the corner, right out of reach, and I really, really, really want to just be there already. I've waited patiently for a long, long time.
(big sigh)...(big alligator tears)...(big ol' heart of mine)...(be a big girl)...(big girls don't cry)...
My door turned out to be a window.
My good intentions backfired again.
Alcohol and the truth have fatal consequences to friendship but sometimes there's just no need for recussitation.
I feel like a doormat.
"Crop" and "unfriend" are apparently the worst things you can do in this day and age.
Some parents have no sense of humor.
I love taking pictures of happy people, couples especially, but somehow I almost feel unqualified to tell them how to look at each other. (I know, I barely want to say that outloud, but I do feel like that sometimes).
It's another night in this house alone.
Online dating profiles make my head hurt.
I think I gained a couple of pounds.
Online dating profiles make my knee hurt.
My knee hurts and I can't go to bootcamp again until it stops.
Tomorrow is my last day off.
I'm definitely dehydrated.
The universe saw me.
I'm not that girl anymore even if I stayed all night.
I'm frustrated.
I don't get it.
I'm a catch.
I know that.
Some people just can't be saved from themselves no matter how much you love them.
I have a copy of He's Just Not That Into You on my bathroom counter and then I have a copy of What Men Really Want lying on the empty spot on my bed. Yeah, laugh, don't cry...that is pretty funny.
It occured to me that I want someone who is just on my team so that when this list starts to grow like it is today, someone can just say to me: it's ok, this too shall pass, I'm always there for you, to the end. 150%, madly, truly, deeply, undeniably Team Lauren no matter what kind of ridiculous bullshit it's about. Life IS a fight and we should all be so lucky to have someone in our corner no matter what.
I have this sinking suspicion that really genuine happiness is just around the corner, right out of reach, and I really, really, really want to just be there already. I've waited patiently for a long, long time.
(big sigh)...(big alligator tears)...(big ol' heart of mine)...(be a big girl)...(big girls don't cry)...
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Apologies
Yesterday he said my eyes
Were fading fast away
I said well what do you expect
You asked me not to stay and if it had all been for the best
I wouldn't feel this way
And he said
Oh he said it's crazy
How love stays with me
You know it hurts me
Cause I don't wanna fight this war
It's amazing to see me reading through this scene
Of love and fear and apologies
My love is like a blanket
That gets a little bit too warm sometimes
I wanna wrap somebody in it
Who can hold me in his arms
Cause when it got a little too hot in there
He was always stepping out for air and he froze
Oh he froze
He said it's crazy
How love stays with me
You know it hurts me
Cause I don't wanna fight this war
It's amazing to see me reading through this scene
Of love and fear and apologies
Yesterday he looked at me
With a tear in his eye and said
I'll always tell you you're my friend
I hope i don't have to lie
Cause it's clear you love another man
I said you're damn right
And he said
He said it's crazy
How love stays with me
You know it hurts me
Cause I don't wanna fight this war
It's amazing to see me reading through this scene
Of love and fear and apologies
He said it's crazy
How love stays with me
You know it hurts me
That i didn't figure it out before
And now it's too late for a soliloquy
It's way too late for dignity
It's time for apologies
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Seasons Change
I think sometimes I have emotional diabetes. Highs and lows, spiking out of control. It's not good. The di-a-beee-tus can damn near kill ya you know!?! Ask Bret Michaels!!! I am trying to be a better person. I have laughed more this week than I have in a loooong time. It was a damn funny week. There have been songs and voices and jokes and innuendo and impressions and tons of big smiles. A high, right? Yeah. The week before that, low.
I cleaned up most of the living room and I finally got the number to the gardener...oh sad, sorry, lawn!!! I've slept. Yes, slept peacefully with the bedroom door open and the dog sleeping on the floor. I feel comfortable in my house and not strangely alone. I like the sounds of nothing. In moderation, of course. It's good to invite someone over just because and not have to clear it with anyone else. I am getting back to being the leaned on instead of being the broken. Oddly enough, I still am trying to blame the current state of messy affairs in my house on other people...oy vey (yeah, keep believing that one, Lauren).
My current week's work in progress is trying to walk the line between attraction and confidence. What I mean by that is that when you find something you really like, some of us (and especially us ladies) tend to be all or nothing. Over thinking, analyzing, showing it off, talking about it, paring it with accessories. Like for instance, I'm notorious for finding some kind of well-fitting clothing item and buying it in every color, wearing it a couple of times a week, and then eventually figuring out that there's just really one shade that really suits me. I am wanting to, instead, look for pieces that will compliment my wardrobe for more than a trend's worth of time and if I have to shop around and pay a little bit more for those pieces, then so be it. How often does that find you've been looking for pop up in the most unexpected place? Kill the overkill. Intepret this as you will.
My self-speech for the time being: Don't over think it. Have fun. Be open to new ideas and people. Like clothes, realize why some come into your life and stay and some leave after they've served their purpose. Let them go, maybe you're making room for someone else fabulous. If you haven't worn it in a season and it just doesn't fit, get rid of it. Stop letting it clutter your life up. Clear your closet, clear your head. Granted there will always be those timeless, classic pieces/friends that never go out of style.
I read something somewhere that said "love finds you when you stop seeking it out and start doing the things you love." I read something else somewhere that said "supremacy of self" which was explained to me somewhere along the lines of having to own you, be in control of yourself or you're in control of nothing. At least that's how I interpretted how it was explained. Stop worrying about everything and everyone else out there and just focus on you. There are a lot of little messages out there in my universe that are being reinforced over and over.
I'm gonna do that and let the pieces fall as they may. I'm going to not look so hard for things that will show up when I least expect them.
I cleaned up most of the living room and I finally got the number to the gardener...oh sad, sorry, lawn!!! I've slept. Yes, slept peacefully with the bedroom door open and the dog sleeping on the floor. I feel comfortable in my house and not strangely alone. I like the sounds of nothing. In moderation, of course. It's good to invite someone over just because and not have to clear it with anyone else. I am getting back to being the leaned on instead of being the broken. Oddly enough, I still am trying to blame the current state of messy affairs in my house on other people...oy vey (yeah, keep believing that one, Lauren).
My current week's work in progress is trying to walk the line between attraction and confidence. What I mean by that is that when you find something you really like, some of us (and especially us ladies) tend to be all or nothing. Over thinking, analyzing, showing it off, talking about it, paring it with accessories. Like for instance, I'm notorious for finding some kind of well-fitting clothing item and buying it in every color, wearing it a couple of times a week, and then eventually figuring out that there's just really one shade that really suits me. I am wanting to, instead, look for pieces that will compliment my wardrobe for more than a trend's worth of time and if I have to shop around and pay a little bit more for those pieces, then so be it. How often does that find you've been looking for pop up in the most unexpected place? Kill the overkill. Intepret this as you will.
My self-speech for the time being: Don't over think it. Have fun. Be open to new ideas and people. Like clothes, realize why some come into your life and stay and some leave after they've served their purpose. Let them go, maybe you're making room for someone else fabulous. If you haven't worn it in a season and it just doesn't fit, get rid of it. Stop letting it clutter your life up. Clear your closet, clear your head. Granted there will always be those timeless, classic pieces/friends that never go out of style.
I read something somewhere that said "love finds you when you stop seeking it out and start doing the things you love." I read something else somewhere that said "supremacy of self" which was explained to me somewhere along the lines of having to own you, be in control of yourself or you're in control of nothing. At least that's how I interpretted how it was explained. Stop worrying about everything and everyone else out there and just focus on you. There are a lot of little messages out there in my universe that are being reinforced over and over.
I'm gonna do that and let the pieces fall as they may. I'm going to not look so hard for things that will show up when I least expect them.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
30 things: Day 20
Day 20- someone you see yourself marrying or being with in the future.
I was commiserating with myself last week and trying to figure out where the hell "I" went, it struck me that before I was doing this online blog thing for the entire world to see, I wrote in a journal on a regular basis for just me to see. Even though it sits next to my bed, I haven't cracked the cover of that thing in ages, but oh some things just haven't changed. I was 25 when I wrote all this down in this journal. 25 is a helluva lot different than 30...or so I think.
In the first few pages of this journal called "hope" I wrote down all my answers to a quiz that I found somewhere online. It was a writing exercise to list all the things you wanted in a partner. Five years later and nothing has changed. Nothing. I am actually so surprised to read back at how convicted I was about what I wrote then and how it is what I really, really still want now. Now more than ever.
To quote 25 year old Lauren from 03/24/2007:
"This is a good article. It reminded me to put my priorities in perspective and remember what I used to dream about before my dreams started turning into my emotional nightmares via late night phone calls and text messages. What I want is no more special than what a lot of people want. It's realistic. I want to be loved by someone who wants to be with me and only be just because we are meant to be..."
The "Musts"
want to get married
want to have children
have similar religious beliefs, understand it's impact, and believe in God
be financially stable or working towards it
be affectionate
be supportive with similar life goals
the "Very Importants"
knowing I'm happy is enough to make him happy
a homeowner or working on it
has some plans for retirement/future
remembers to say "I love you"
takes care physically
appreciates the small things in life
understands being educated - even if its mostly life experience and not from a textbook
appreciates my big family
doesn't put work first all the time
open to suggestion and able to communicate
has a sense of humor and makes me laugh and smile
the "wouldn't it be nice ifs"
he was mechanical and could fix it all
spoke another language
was the guy who knew a little bit about everything
had a big family too
his smile knocked me off my feet
his arms wrapped around me forever
was good to his mom, sisters, aunts, and all the women in his life without being told or feeling insecure about it
if he was the guy from this Trisha Yearwood song
That's it. That's not too much to ask is it? I didn't think so.
<3 <3 <3
:)
I was commiserating with myself last week and trying to figure out where the hell "I" went, it struck me that before I was doing this online blog thing for the entire world to see, I wrote in a journal on a regular basis for just me to see. Even though it sits next to my bed, I haven't cracked the cover of that thing in ages, but oh some things just haven't changed. I was 25 when I wrote all this down in this journal. 25 is a helluva lot different than 30...or so I think.
In the first few pages of this journal called "hope" I wrote down all my answers to a quiz that I found somewhere online. It was a writing exercise to list all the things you wanted in a partner. Five years later and nothing has changed. Nothing. I am actually so surprised to read back at how convicted I was about what I wrote then and how it is what I really, really still want now. Now more than ever.
To quote 25 year old Lauren from 03/24/2007:
"This is a good article. It reminded me to put my priorities in perspective and remember what I used to dream about before my dreams started turning into my emotional nightmares via late night phone calls and text messages. What I want is no more special than what a lot of people want. It's realistic. I want to be loved by someone who wants to be with me and only be just because we are meant to be..."
The "Musts"
want to get married
want to have children
have similar religious beliefs, understand it's impact, and believe in God
be financially stable or working towards it
be affectionate
be supportive with similar life goals
the "Very Importants"
knowing I'm happy is enough to make him happy
a homeowner or working on it
has some plans for retirement/future
remembers to say "I love you"
takes care physically
appreciates the small things in life
understands being educated - even if its mostly life experience and not from a textbook
appreciates my big family
doesn't put work first all the time
open to suggestion and able to communicate
has a sense of humor and makes me laugh and smile
the "wouldn't it be nice ifs"
he was mechanical and could fix it all
spoke another language
was the guy who knew a little bit about everything
had a big family too
his smile knocked me off my feet
his arms wrapped around me forever
was good to his mom, sisters, aunts, and all the women in his life without being told or feeling insecure about it
if he was the guy from this Trisha Yearwood song
That's it. That's not too much to ask is it? I didn't think so.
<3 <3 <3
:)
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Lily
The rain is pouring down on top of us now. I can just barely hear it over the clacking of this keyboard. I love the sound of the rain. It soothes me. I loose myself in day dreams when I listen to it at night in bed.
I spent the better part of the night looking at old pictures, burying small hatchets, and trying to not over think it all. I keep catching glimmers of this girl I know. Her life is coming back to the middle. She's the girl who is sarcastically funny and on her game all day and all night. She isn't afraid to face the world and can even go an entire month without crying in her pillow. She's the girl who needs more ink, not because she thinks it's cool or hip, but because she isn't afraid to put what she feels inside outside for the world to see. She's the girl who has wanderlust running through her veins, but desperately wants somewhere and someone that will always feel like home. She's the girl who can carry the world on her shoulders, some days in heels without tripping, batting an eyelash, or smudging her eyeliner.
I had this other glimpse...of this guy that could be the ideal or at minimum, he could just be the reminder that I desperately needed. I needed to remember that there is the rule, the common, the every day, the convenient, and then there' something else. That girl that I'm seeing glimpses of, I'll tell you who she believes in. The exceptional, the rare, the inconvenient, impossible to pass up. The guy that loves his family, adores his grandparents, isn't afraid to say what he's thinking, opens doors, does good things just because they're good and the way they should be, smiles with his eyes and not just his lips, the guy who says you're pretty when you feel ordinary.
Literally as soon as one door shut, another one opened. Maybe it's just a window or a screen door, but it was open long enough to let the other one shut permanently. That other door, it lead no where, she just couldn't see. She was standing too close inside the doorway.
My dearest gave me this advice this week, despite her own failings, and false beliefs, and second chances, she gives great advice: We all have false beliefs. but this is it! your chance to not believe it, but maybe, just maybe, you finally believe you deserve a NICE guy, an HONEST guy, and a good boyfriend. believe it. embrace it. fall hard. believe that you're not going to be hurt. it's in you, you just gotta go for it. no little nagging false beliefs. you got me?
Water lilies grow in muck and mire, water ponds, and they somehow manage to get through all that and when they blossom, it's like looking at the sun on a cloudy day. I have to believe that those water lilies believe in blooming bright and vibrant and full of life one sun shiny day. I wanna be like a water lily. I wanna get through all this and shine and have someone look at me and appreciate how beautiful I really am for waiting to blossom despite what it took for me to get there.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
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