Undomestic Diva

Doin' the best I can… When I feel like it

Main menu

Skip to primary content
Skip to secondary content
  • Home
  • Who’s that girl?
  • Photography

Category Archives: Things I didn’t sign up for

Post navigation

← Older posts
Newer posts →

Friends with Benefits – The real life ending

Posted on December 13, 2011 by admin
8

Did you see the movie Friends with Benefits? (It’s the one with Justin Timberlake and Mila Kunis, not to be confused with the very similar movie No Strings Attached with Ashton Kutcher and Natalie Portman – a That 70s Show one-up-man-ship of movies with almost identical plots. To save you time, I will say that in my opinion, FWB clearly outshines NSA in humor, setting and helllllo! MILA KUNIS! Can you say girl crush? Rawrrrr!) This is where I should be like “Hey! Spoiler alert if you haven’t already seen FWB,” but honestly, if you can’t guess how this movie ends, well, REALLY?

I loved FWB. It was funny, it was set in Manhattan and you wanted to be Mila’s character, Jamie – strong, I-don’t-need-no-man attitude, successful, sexy and able to effectively manage a friends with benefits scenario and without coming off slutty. The chemistry between Mila and Justin was intense and the no bullshit beauty of “Jamie” and “Dylan’s” arrangement would have any audience convinced that a friends with benefits situation just may be worth a shot in real life.

It was like for once the producers got it right.

Except. Oh wait. No they didn’t.

Because what’s a perfect Yes! This! movie without a Hollywood ending that immediately ruins everything that had you nodding in agreement before it? Where I was once hallelujah-ing and amen-ing, I was suddenly what-the-fucking and scrunching up my nose and shaking my damn head. Seriously? The cheesiest of all Oh-My-God-I-Really-Do-Love-You-After-All endings was before me.

Ugh.

Dear Hollywood,

For once, get it right. Don’t give us the ending we’re rooting for; the ending we wish we could have. Give us the ending we know too well. The ending we can expect. The only reason we hope for these bullshit Grand Central embraces and firework explosions is because YOU make us think it happens that way. And not just sometimes, but every time. Just one time, show us a friends with benefits scenario where the girl starts to have feelings for the guy and he freaks because, uh, that was never the deal. Or where a guy and girl are BFFs, that’s all, and suddenly the guy has feelings for the girl and she doesn’t feel the same and it makes her back off. Sure, you’re in the MOVIE business. But that’s LIFE. And? It’s never being accurately portrayed on the big screen. Hell, call it a documentary if you want.

Love,
Me

‘Cause here’s the deal. Ever since I saw FWB I’ve interrogated my friends in their various life scenarios (married, single, divorced, everywhere in-between) about it – the whole idea of a friends with benefits scenario leading up to that damned perfect ending… and you know what? We call bullshit. Because when is that ever the ending? That’s the dream.

You want to know why ‘casual’ has a ridiculously amazing fail rate? Here it is: Because 90 percent of girls, 90 percent of the time, are only willing to sleep with a guy they have at least some sort of feelings for. Maybe it’s just an initial attraction. Maybe it’s things in common. Whatever. And for most women, sex has intimacy ties. Therefore, thereby, howto, forego, those slight feelings for Mr. Casual are only going to be amplified when you bring sex into the equation. [Sure, I'm making up the percentages, but trust me, they're not that far off.]

Now scientists, researchers, every day women have long surmised that men, on the other hand, are better at compartmentalizing things in their brain. Sex can just be sex without co-mingling those damned emotions. So when a guy says ‘just sex’ he actually means it. A woman may want to mean it but can’t always help but feel more. [We don't compartmentalize; we tangle everything together. If you bought us a dress and it's too big it's because you think we're fat because the other night you turned the lights off before coming to bed to have sex doggy-style so you didn't have to look at our face. See?]

So guess which sex ends up feeling burned in the end? Yeah.

Wake up, Hollywood. Not every romantic comedy should end Happily Ever After. That’s what fairy tales are for.

Posted in I've Got Balls, Is it wrong?, It's all about ME, Things I didn't sign up for, Why So Serious | 8 Replies

Letting go of what could have been

Posted on December 9, 2011 by admin
9

It took a while but I finally put all those things away. The things that reminded me of him. Of us. I put them in a box and inched it up on a shelf, standing barefooted and on tip-toes, pushing the memories of him and I up out of reach; finally out of sight from every day glances.

I should have thrown them away – those little nothings that I still hold onto – rather than put them somewhere for me to stumble upon on some unsuspecting day. But something about them – something about him – keeps me hostage and I find myself hanging on still.

I can’t seem to let go of what could have been; the proof in that box up in the closet – rather than the dumpster – and I make a promise to myself that I won’t sift through the sadness and buy into the blissfully blind beginnings that are captured in there but instead learn from them. They are tangible pieces of a time that was never real – as though I’d dreamt of the sea only to wake up smelling of the ocean; a mirage so vivid that on some days I still can’t discern whether it ever actually happened or not.

Where pictures of Then were once pinned against the wall, new squared photographs of memories with no bitter aftertastes now stare back at me from behind my computer; symbolic four-by-four inch infomercials promising happier outcomes are possible! But I shrug at them dejectedly. Gorgeous sunsets and significant places, my favorite things in snapshots, and my face falls, defeated. Because it’s not the same. It’s not then. It’s not there. It’s not him. It’s not now.

It’s over.

Posted in Choose Your Own Ending, Is it wrong?, It's all about ME, Things I didn't sign up for, Why So Serious | 9 Replies

Channeling Eleanor Roosevelt

Posted on November 30, 2011 by admin
8

I’ll be honest: I clearly had no idea what I was getting into when I threw out the Operation Eleanor 30 Day Challenge. And that’s probably a good thing because had I any idea of how hard those thirty days would be, I don’t know that I would have had the courage to take them on. But then, that’s kind of the whole idea of OpEleanor now isn’t it?

Eleanor Roosevelt said, “Do one thing every day that scares you.” And I was tired of living in fear. Tired of taking the easy way out. Tired of not trying new things and avoiding the more difficult scenarios in life if there was a way to duck out. So it was on. I was going to do this. Bring it, Eleanor.

Then I casually threw out the challenge to you. And to my surprise, you showed up and you did so in a big way. Suddenly this personal little challenge became something more; something very meaningful to not just me – but to many – and it took on a life of its own. Wildly inspiring #OpEleanor tweets were coming and going, courageous blog posts and ping-backs were floating around, motivational quotes were everywhere, and, best yet, a small community of people sprouted, encouraging and congratulating one another on accomplishments big and small.

And while it may have started with an inspirational quote by Ms. Roosevelt, in the end, it was you who gave me courage, made me rethink what I did, kept me going when I wanted to hesitate and got me through thirty amazingly terrifying yet liberating days.

So, thank you. More than you’ll ever know.

In the month of November, I:

asked for help from family
applied for jobs
confronted someone who had hurt me
got back to baking fondant cakes
returned to the bank where my sister was held-up
stuck-it-out though an evening I desperately wanted to flee
flew on an airplane
took a trip on tight budget and stuck to it
jumped a fence at a brewery to get a photo I really wanted
asked for assistance from a stranger
admitted a humbling truth to myself
said everything without holding back in case it was my only chance to do so
talked about the skeletons in my closet
got out of bed and faced a horrible reality
networked with friends
said the things you’re not supposed to say out loud on my blog
held my ground even when I didn’t want to
got over my fear of doing holiday cards & took the boys’ photographs
stopped avoiding my friends who cared and sat down & talked with them again
let the boys go to Disneyland with my parents without me
sent a total shot-in-the-dark email for something I desperately wanted
finally moved my blog to wordpress, without worrying about losing 4+ yrs of posts
started MMA classes for me
tackled a touchy topic with family
went on my 1st job interview in forever
faced the infamous Hill in MMA – the only girl – and didn’t quit
returned the stuff I bought for a trip that was, apparently, never meant to be
agreed to run a Ragnar marathon in October – a bucket list item!
let someone back into my life
‘blegged’ for a good cause
did bench presses at MMA – a huge fear of mine because of my aneurysm
went out with new people instead of waiting around for someone else to not show
cooked my own Thanksgiving dinner for the first time ever
faced my ex-extended family for the 1st time in over a year
had a frank conversation with a friend, realizing it’s “gut-check time”
set boundaries and stuck to them
rehearsed what I need to say, even though I wish I didn’t have to say it
applied for my passport
finally asked the name of someone I speak to every day
decided I have nothing left to say to someone who can’t hear it anyway
started xmas shopping even though I am having a hard time getting in the spirit
pushed myself harder than ever physically
inquiring minds asked a friend to find out more
put my own ideas out there with enthusiasm and confidence

What’s weird is that prior to November 1st, I had made a list of a few ideas for fears I could attempt to tackle during OpEleanor. But you know what? Almost none of them made this list of what I accomplished because, as it turns out, life had its own challenges planned for me. I still haven’t learned to ride a bike (soon!) and I didn’t go out to lunch by myself just because and I still have never had Thai food or tried a Zumba class. But this is the lesson, at least for me, in all this. This, is life. You don’t get to pick what scares you; what challenges you on a daily basis. But you do have the ability to pick and choose how you handle those fears. And I know for me, this Operation Eleanor 30 Day Challenge will forever change the way I make decisions. I can no longer hesitate and go the other way; instead I pause and a voice inside my head taunts me “Yeah but… OpEleanor!” And there we go, it’s on. All over again.

Thank you, Eleanor.

Posted in Choose Your Own Ending, I've Got Balls, Is it wrong?, It's all about ME, Things I didn't sign up for, Why So Serious | 8 Replies

You, who couldn’t love me

Posted on November 9, 2011 by admin
11

Waited

I'll admit, for a long time I waited for you to call.
I checked my phone for missed calls when I knew it hadn't rang. Because my phone never left my pocket. For weeks I held my breath at the sound of footsteps outside my window even though I knew they weren't yours; I knew better than to think you were coming back. Yet I would close my eyes and wait anyway for the doorbell to not ring. I watched the clock for more minutes, hours, days than I care to confess for your call to never come. For closure, I told myself. But really, I just wanted to hear your voice.

I would have taken you back.

I shouldn't have, but I would have.

I reasoned that you were busy working. You were probably tired. But you probably missed me. Maybe you missed me? Maybe you were thinking of me? Maybe I wasn't out of sight, out of mind. You might not have called that night but the next night? You would. And when you didn't, I was certain you would tomorrow. Because of all the things I knew that I knew, it was that you were better than that.

I was certain you were better than that.

In the wee hours of the morning, when I would finally give in that this night was not the night you were going to come through, I intentionally avoided my own reflection in the mirror knowing I would only see the epitome of pathetic looking back at me.

I couldn't stand to look at me anymore.

Finally, after weeks of that song on repeat, I turned it off. It was like pulling the plug on everything that had sparked life in me for that little while. Lying awake in the dark, the irony still singing, "You. You bring me to my knees in spite of all these lies that I would just love to believe…" The words haunting me.

I wanted to be angry at you. Look at what you had done to me. Look at who I had become. Mad at you for turning me into the girl who sits and waits and watches the phone and looks through the peephole and what the fuck? repeatedly allows herself to be hurt and sad and miserable and chalks it up to 'worth it' just to be with you.

Angry at you for being someone I thought I could trust and open up to, for saying those things – those things you just don't say to a girl unless you mean them – and then disappearing. Furious at you for making me feel so worthwhile and then so worthless – like everything and nothing – in such a short period of time.

But the truth is, I'm just mad at me for loving you, who couldn't love me.  

Posted in Choose Your Own Ending, I've Got Balls, Is it wrong?, It's all about ME, Things I didn't sign up for, Why So Serious | 11 Replies

Skeletons in the closet

Posted on November 7, 2011 by admin
17

IMG_5240_BWs

I only deep-clean when I'm angry. And I was angry. Rather than be spending time cleaning out a closet and re-organizing purses, wallets, clothes, shoes and every accessory I own by color, style and length I would have preferred to be seeking revenge. That kind of angry.

It's a damn good thing I chose the closet.

Or so I thought.

Inside that closet I didn't just come face to face with bad fashion choices and ill-fated purchases; I ended up confronting my past. Notes from a marital counseling session found in an old purse. God. My wedding ring which no longer fits. Fitting. The Hawaiian carving from our Maui trip that was supposed to bring us good luck. Right. An entire box of momentos from that trip. We were already having trouble. 

I was only trying to clean out the closet.

See? THIS is why I don't clean.

Perched up on one of the shelves sat my old jewelry box which, in reality, became more of a keepsake box, having never been one to wear jewelry, even my wedding ring. I got it down, curious what memories might lie in it. Definitely handmade macaroni bracelets and necklaces from the boys, that much I could count on. 

I wasn't prepared for what I saw.

IMG_5214_s

The bracelet my Dad gave me at my eighth grade graduation. The purple bow I wore at Maddie's service. The visitor badges I saved from Big T's plastic surgery. The cigar my Dad and I were supposed to smoke together on his 50th birthday and never got around to it.

And then that tongue depressor my sister made me that night in the ER. Dated and everything.

I started crying. Hard. There, on the floor in my closet I cried out loud, for no one to hear, mascara burning my eyes, letting go of I don't know what.

Everything.

Something.

Anything.

All of it.

So much has been welling up in me the last few weeks and I've complained and joked and rationalized and refused to stop and feel any of it. My past has been haunting me more than usual and in more ways than one and in my typical keep-my-head-up-high demeanor, I've carried on with a la-la-la-I-can't-hear-you-life! attitude.

It catches up with you.

It caught up with me.

People ask why I'm doing this 30 day challenge Operation Eleanor. Some have even suggested I seem so 'fearless' they are curious what my fears could possibly be. The truth is? I'm afraid of everything. Everything. And it's exhausting. It's exhausting to be constantly afraid and it's exhausting to not live the life you want to live because you're too afraid.

It's time for me to get rid of the skeletons in my closet. Or at least face them. And it's harder than I could have ever imagined.

Posted in Choose Your Own Ending, I've Got Balls, It's all about ME, Things I didn't sign up for, Why So Serious | 17 Replies

How to fake a fondant cake

Posted on November 4, 2011 by admin
11

It's so easy even an Undomestic Diva can do it! Ha. Truthfully: Y'all know I can't cook or bake (hi, Mr. Fireman) and I am not the least bit artistic yet I can fake a fondant cake. It's no Charm City creation – that's for sure. But it's good enough for my boys and that's my target audience. And if I can do it? You can.

I set out to make a Jack Skellington cake for L-Dub's 7th birthday because Nightmare Before Christmas is his absolute most favorite movie ever. Ever, EVER.

IMG_2384

Print out a detailed photo or make a sketch of your idea. You will need to know what you're doing before you do it so you don't over or under buy fondant and so you make enough cake, etc.

IMG_2383

Bake yo' cakes. You will need A LOT MORE cake than you think. Because you will waste A LOT MORE cake than you will want to admit. Here I baked six 9" inch round cakes.

IMG_2385

If you're stacking cakes, you will need to 'top' the cakes… make them level by cutting the rounded tops off. You can buy a saw-like tool to do this but honestly, I have one and it's easier to use one of these long serrated cake knives. 

IMG_2386

Icing is your glue. Before stacking your cakes, spread a blob-o-icing on each cake except your top cake.

IMG_2387

Stack your cakes, trying to make sure they don't lean to one side or another. For stability, you can add dowels (or cheap trick: kabob skewers) after you've cover your cake in fondant.

IMG_2388

Add your top cake with the smooth side up for easier crumb coating. (More on that in a few!)

IMG_2390

Carve your cake. I needed a sort-of round cake (think pumpkin-shaped) so I took that same serrated cake knife and started carving. Yes, it will look like a mess but you're not done so don't be discouraged.

IMG_2391

Here's where you start seeing ALL THAT BAKING go to waste as you cut away a ton of cake you won't need. (Tip: save your cake scraps in case you need to 'piece' together shapes or missing chunks later.)

IMG_2393

Carefully move your cake from your messy area to its final destination (plate/platter/cardboard wrapped in foil is awesome for bigger, heavier cakes). Yes, it will get messy but you can easily wipe away crumbs, icing, etc.

IMG_2395

Ice your cake. This is what is referred to as crumb coating since it will not look pretty and smooth — it will have crumbs mixed into the icing and be messy. That's ok. It won't be seen. Put an even layer of icing around your entire cake. (Tip: Put store-bought icing in microwave for 10 seconds before using to make it easier to slather on.)

IMG_2396

Make room in the fridge! Very carefully put your cake in the fridge after crumb coating for a solid hour. It will make it easier for you to smooth on the fondant.

IMG_2397

Make sure you clean a large, smooth surface. No rogue crumbs (crumbs now become the enemy!), no bumps or grooves, etc. This is where you're going to roll out your fondant.

IMG_2398

You can spend a bajillion dollars in the one baking aisle at Michael's with all their nifty tools. HOWEVER, if you're like me and lacking a bajillion dollars, you can make do with only buying a few of those tools and faking it with a few items you already have around the house. These are a few tools & ingredients you will definitely need for the next steps.

Fondant: I have made my own (marshmallow), bought the Wilton brand (I do NOT recommend) and this time, tried the new line by Charm City Cake's Duff at Michael's and was very pleased. It was extremely easy to use. (Tip: You can dye fondant use gel colors HOWEVER if you need a color like red or black I highly recommend buying fondant already dyed in that color.)

Fondant rolling pin: Your wooden rolling pin isn't long, smooth or heavy enough. It's worth the investment.

Cornstarch: A must-have. This keeps the fondant from sticking to everything from your counter to your hands to the rolling pin.

Crisco shortening: Good to have on hand if you end up needing to work with the fondant more than a few times. Cornstarch can dry it out and a touch of Crisco on your hands while kneading the fondant will help bring moisture back into it. (I found I didn't need it with the Duff brand fondant.)

Piping gel: Depends on your project and what detail you will need to add but a good idea for details smaller than fondant can handle.

Fondant smoother: Helps smooth fondant/remove air when you apply it on cake.

Wilton decorating tools: You can skip these if you want, but I find them really helpful especially the more cakes I do. (Using one of those Michael's coupons… good deal.)

IMG_2399

This is what 4lbs of white buttercream fondant looks like – straight out of the tub. It's hard and unpliable. Read the directions on the tub – microwaving as directed will make your life much easier. Trust me. ;)

IMG_2402

Remember how I said cornstarch will keep fondant from sticking to what you don't want it to? Super important. Sprinkle a bunch all over the surface where you're about to roll out the fondant.

IMG_2404

Spread out the cornstarch – leaving no area untouched, including the rolling pin you're going to use.

IMG_2405

This is two pounds of fondant.

IMG_2406

And this is four pounds. Doesn't look all that different, does it? I show you this because it's imperative to know that fondant doesn't go far. It seems ludicrous to put FOUR POUNDS! of fondant on a cake but a) you're going to and b) a lot of people peel it off anyway. (And yes, after ALL THIS WORK people will peel it off and just eat the cake beneath it. Know this.

Knead the fondant until it's smooth and pliable.

IMG_2415

Roll out the fondant on your cornstarched surface, careful to spread in as round of a shape as possible. This is harder than you think, but, you will not want to have to start over because you end up with a weird shape of fondant that doesn't cover your cake on all sides. The moment the fondant starts sticking to the rolling pin, re-cornstarch it. CORNSTARCH IS YOUR FRIEND!

IMG_2414

This will be your biggest challenge: Picking up the fondant to carry and lay it over your cake. Fondant is a) heavy and b) stretches when you lift it and c) is an asshole. Drape it over your rolling pin and be sure your cake is very close by.

If your fondant cracks/breaks/falls apart guess what? You get to start over. Knead, roll out and try again. It always takes me a few tries and several F-bombs.

IMG_2417

If you don't look like this by this point, you should go into the fondant cake making business. Also? I hate you.

IMG_2420

Somewhere under there is that cake. Er, all those cakes. Now it's time to very gently start shaping and smoothing the fondant over the cake.

IMG_2421

Be careful cutting away at the fondant. Just like with the cake – you will have lots of scraps of fondant. But you don't want to cut too much because 'piecing' fondant is not as fun as it sounds and doesn't always look seamless. So cut a little, tuck, cut a little more. Lather, rinse, repeat. Except that rinse part — fondant HATES water. Good to know. (Tip: Never refrigerate fondant or a fondant covered cake.)

THIS is when you can add dowels (see Michael's baking aisle) or kabob skewers for stability if necessary. Make sure they're cut to fall just-below the heighth of cake so they don't show.)

IMG_2425

Two pounds of black fondant. This time, two pounds was more than enough as I was just using the black for decorative pieces. Gloves would have been a bright idea, however.

IMG_2426

If you aren't artistic (I am NOT) then this is where your print-out comes in handy. Use it to mimic when attempting to cut-out your accent pieces for your cake.

IMG_2427

I used my Wilton tools to cut out my accent pieces however you can also use a toothpick or kabob skewer. Tip: Dip your cutting tool in our beloved cornstarch first so that it does not stick to the fondant as you are cutting.

IMG_2428

To adhere fondant to fondant, all you will need is water. AND ONLY A TINY BIT! (Remember: fondant hates water – however it does act as a glue.) I used the cornstarch cap to put a tiny bit of water in it and used my finger to 'paint' the backside of the eye with just a little water. (You don't want it to drip.)

IMG_2429

I gently pressed the eye on the cake, holding it still for a few seconds, careful not to move it (black fondant runs and leaves color on the white fondant, I learned) before letting go. Tip: Don't press hard – you will change the shape of the very pliable fondant you're adhering.

IMG_2430

Once my fondant accents were added, I used a rolling Wilton tool to make a slight indent where I planned on piping the mouth. (A toothpick can do the same.)

IMG_2432

Started piping along my self-made dotted lines, using barely-damp (fondant hates water!) Q-tips to quickly wipe up mistakes.

IMG_2435

Attached mini Santa hat via toothpicks and ta-daa! done.

IMG_2527

And enjoy.

Posted in I'm a good time, I've Got Balls, It's all about ME, My guys, Things I didn't sign up for, Undomestic Kitchen Corner | 11 Replies

Already and just now

Posted on October 24, 2011 by admin
12

IMG_9150_CAFB

Some anniversaries aren't meant to be celebrated
yet you remember that day so vividly you see it returning in rapid speed and spend it in slow motion, unable to escape the emotion of it.

Veterans of broken marriages promised me it would be a year – a full year – until my life regained any semblance of normalcy again but I shook off the idea, pledging to myself that I wouldn't allow it to take another year from me. No, I would be the exception to this rule. I would find a new normal quicker than that.

Yet here I am. Already and just now. Exactly one year later from that fog of a day I remember so clearly. And there is nothing normal about my life. Everything is new with a touch of old, bittersweet and unexpected. The highs are euphoric and the lows are devastating. It's an uncomfortable mix of trying to learn from my past and give hope to my future and the whiplash from looking back and going forward is exhausting. It's unsettling mix of lonely and liberating, facing fears I always hid from and finding courage I didn't know I had.

I can't tell you how I got here; from that day to this one. I don't know how I survived a year of spinning circles without falling over. Because the truth is, I've fallen down a lot more than I've stood on my own two feet.

Thank god for good friends who continue to help me back on my feet.

There is no futuristic road map or emotional GPS for this sort of journey – that much I've learned. And for someone who always needs to know who, how, what and when, this has been quite a trip. Who knows where this road will take me. All I know is I just have to keep going.

Posted in Choose Your Own Ending, I've Got Balls, It's all about ME, Things I didn't sign up for, Why So Serious | 12 Replies

The rock

Posted on October 20, 2011 by admin
15

IMG_5196_CB

As best as I can describe it, the day we found that rock
on the beach came straight out of a chick-flick: a barefooted walk on the beach in the late afternoon, flip-flops in hand, flirtatiously threatening to throw each other into the waves. It was equal parts cheesy and perfection, this-can't-be-real and please-let-this-be-happening.

A wave retreated just long enough to reveal a lustrous speckled rock that looked nothing like the other smooth colorless stones we had tried to skip just moments earlier, laughing at our feeble attempts at childhood talents. It was shiny and translucent and glimmered more than the others. I couldn't help but pick it up and take in its charm. A rock was a rock but this clearly wasn't just any rock, this was a gem.

"I'm going to keep it," I said matter-of-factly.

Because when you find something that rare, well, that's what you do. You keep it. He laughed and shrugged, helping me rinse off the remaining sand that marred its beauty.

Whisked away in the silly grins of the afternoon, the rock went forgotten until later in the evening when we circled the kitchen counter, still beaming, sunkissed and wind-chapped. The rock! I laughed as I got it out and showed him. We both took a second look. The beautiful rock that shone like granite in the wet sand at the beach now looked dull and like, well, just any other ho-hum rock.

I frowned. How was that even possible? We joked about taking the rock out of its element and it being sad the way Orcas' fins fold over when they're removed from the wild. He quickly rescued the rock via a Solo cup, tap water and table salt as I giggled, suddenly 12 years old and starry-eyed again, watching the rock magically transform back into a gem.

The rock sat in its red Solo cup ocean for several weeks, peacefully, while we weathered our own tumultuous waves and storms. I had stumbled upon him a lot of the same ways I had the rock – unexpectedly and very much taken aback. I had been caught off-guard and found myself marveling over this lustrous gem amongst a sea of seemingly dull rocks. I had grabbed on immediately with the intent to keep him only to find he didn't look the same when removed from his element. I tried to find ways to make him glimmer and shine again only to discover that sometimes a rock is, in fact, just a rock.

In the end he was no gem and he certainly wasn't the guy in the chick-flick movie that ends Happily Ever After. He was just another rock amongst many rocks that I would eventually tip-toe, stumble or trip over. It was a lesson that you can't simply polish something so tarnished back into perfection that wasn't meant to shine the way you hoped it would. Who I thought he was had eroded quickly into a smattering of pebbles and disappointment. All I could do was let him go for someone else to find.

Aside from a splash of simulated salt water and a few specks of sand, the red Solo cup sat empty on the kitchen counter for a day or two, a memorial of heartbreak and lost promises; its emptiness loud with metaphor. I didn't want to let it go. I didn't want to let him go. But I couldn't hang on to just a few remaining grains of sand when what I needed was a rock.

Posted in It's all about ME, Things I didn't sign up for, Why So Serious | 15 Replies

Hundreds of footsteps

Posted on October 13, 2011 by admin
15

IMG_4973

And there I sat, car still running,
air conditioning blowing furiously, in the middle of the Trader Joe's parking lot, finally letting go of an idea that was apparently only destined to be that.

It was an awkward place to be sobbing the full-body, shoulder shaking cry but the tears relented, not caring who was second-glancing into my driver's side window as they push their rambling carts past.

The truth is, I couldn't be her. That girl. The one who waited. And he, well, I was foolish to trust he would ever be him – the one who did what none of the others ever have. Through trembling lips and a shaky voice I cursed myself for believing in the Hollywood ending when god knows experience has warned me about the dangers of having hope.

I shook my head, wiping away tears with a rogue Starbucks napkin lying on my dashboard. God, what I'd give to get those hundreds of footsteps back, emotionally embedded in the carpet as I paced on the phone telling inquiring minds how he was different. He was better. He was smarter. He was kinder. He was good for me. We were good for each other. It just… it just worked.

This would work, right?

But really, I was the idiot. I was the fool. I was just an option, not a priority for him. In the end, I wasn't enough.

It was the hardest thing I never wanted to do – to walk away when all I wanted was to grab on and make him love me the way I thought he could. The way I thought he would. The way I thought he might. But had he loved me the way I needed he would have never let me go.

Right? Isn't that what I'm supposed to tell myself? Right.

Yet here I sit, unable to get over my feelings of inadequacy and burn-out, my eyes tired, my heart wrung out, angry for being me – the girl who loves too hard, too fast, too blindly when I should know better by now.

Posted in It's all about ME, Things I didn't sign up for, Why So Serious | 15 Replies

Knowing when to say ‘when’

Posted on October 11, 2011 by admin
11

IMG_2158

Knowing when to say 'when' even when you don't want to… This used to be solid advice at the bar. You know: knowing when you've had enough – too much – stopping yourself before you went from happy to stupid to -worse- sad.

Funny thing: that same logic applies to other areas in life, none more relevant than relationships. Crazy how you can take that first initial sip and god! it tastes so. damn. good. and while you promised yourself the last time you would only sip 'the next time' suddenly you find yourself chugging, bellied up to the bar; a thirst for happiness that you know – in that small, logical part of your brain – cannot be quenched by this particular drink.

But by now, you're no longer logical. Logic was lost long ago. You're flat out drunk on the idea of This Time and god, the idea of What If tastes so. damn. good. and before you know it that happy little blissful buzz gets out of hand and you can no longer say 'when' even when the signs of Nothing Good are rapidly approaching.

No, there you sit, continuing to order more glasses of Trouble, watching in slow motion, fully aware in your love sick drunken haze that this is going to end horribly and yet you continue to go with it. Why love, lust, drunken optimism and foolish romanticism impairs our ability to stop ourselves from repeating the same mistakes, who knows. Perhaps the What If's are just too tempting.

Unfortunately the bar tab eventually arrives and it isn't cheap. You pay dearly for your indiscretions and overindulgences. And as if that weren't enough, the hangover that follows is an asshole of a reminder of You Knew Better.

You would think we would learn to say 'when' the next time we start to relinquish that control; the moment we see trouble coming our way. But damn, there's just something about having another shot that is so intoxicating.

Posted in I'm a good time, I've Got Balls, Is it wrong?, It's all about ME, Things I didn't sign up for | 11 Replies

Post navigation

← Older posts
Newer posts →

Subscribe

  • RSS Feed
  • Twitter
  • Google+

Archives

  • May 2012
  • April 2012
  • March 2012
  • February 2012
  • January 2012
  • December 2011
  • November 2011
  • October 2011
  • September 2011
  • August 2011
  • July 2011
  • June 2011
  • May 2011
  • April 2011
  • March 2011
  • February 2011
  • January 2011
  • December 2010
  • November 2010
  • October 2010
  • September 2010
  • August 2010
  • July 2010
  • June 2010
  • May 2010
  • April 2010
  • March 2010
  • February 2010
  • January 2010
  • December 2009
  • November 2009
  • October 2009
  • September 2009
  • August 2009
  • July 2009
  • June 2009
  • May 2009
  • April 2009
  • March 2009
  • February 2009
  • January 2009
  • December 2008
  • November 2008
  • October 2008
  • September 2008
  • August 2008
  • July 2008
  • June 2008
  • May 2008
  • April 2008
  • March 2008
  • February 2008
  • January 2008
  • December 2007
  • November 2007
  • October 2007

Categories

  • Choose Your Own Ending
  • Crafty Diva
  • Flashback Friday
  • Fool Notions
  • For the love of Starbucks
  • Guess That Photo
  • I'm a good time
  • I've Got Balls
  • Is it wrong?
  • It's all about ME
  • Life is a snapshot
  • My guys
  • Photo Posts
  • Private School Drop-outs
  • Steals & Deals
  • The Bidness End
  • The Un-Book Club
  • Things I didn't sign up for
  • Uncategorized
  • Undomestic Kitchen Corner
  • Why So Serious
  • Wordless Wednesday
  • WTF???
Proudly powered by WordPress