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Twenty something trying to figure it all out, knowing all along I never will.

Friday, July 11, 2014

I'm Short With A Twisted Shirt

A little girl at tennis camp had one of those difficult shirts to put on after swim time.  You know the ones with the loose outer tank top with the fitted tank top underneath, but the tricky part is that they are connected at the shoulders which makes it really hard to figure out once it gets all twisted?

Well she wears those almost everyday and everyday after tennis camp we go swimming, and after swimming she changes back into her shirt.  And everyday she hands her twisted up shirt to me and asks me to fix it.

I do.

She 11.  Could she figure it out herself?


Why doesn't she? ...

Because she's a kid.  She doesn't have to figure out things on her own that are difficult.  There is always someone taller, who was born earlier than she was, around to help her out with those frustrating things.  No one likes to see/hear/witness a sad, frustrated child who can't get her shirt right side out.

Sometimes I think I'm a kid, and that taller people, and people who were born before me should help me with things.  Justifiably so.

I'm short.

Like a kid.

That should absolutely count.

When my shirt gets twisted everyday I should be able to hand it over to someone, no questions asked, and they figure it out for me and hand it back.

When I'm frustrated and throwing a tantrum about something, a woman should come and console me.  Then buy me ice cream.

When I get my feelings hurt real bad and I don't understand why someone would want to treat me bad, I should get a special teddy bear to cry into.

I don't think we ever really grow up.  It's all a scam.

We just keep having birthdays and learn that after each one, less people will feel the need to come to your rescue.  And truth be told, we don't always need someone to rescue us.

But every now and then, when things go wrong, someone is mean, or your shirt gets twisted we should be able to hand it off to someone else no questions asked.

Next time someone taller and/or older has a twisted shirt I'm going to fix it for them.  Maybe lift a small burden from their back. Maybe I can help a lot of people with their twisted shirts.

With God (and the internet) all things are possible!

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

30 Minutes to 30

I have 30 minutes left and I can feel my palms getting sweaty as each minute of my 20's ticks away.  It's been such a long time since a significant birthday that I don't really know how to respond.

3 decades huh.

10 years was exciting.  Pre-teen, double digits, nothing to be stressed about, only golden roads ahead because maybe 10 meant I'd be tall enough for the rollercoasters at the boardwalk!

20 years was slightly disturbing because I couldn't blame all of my lame antics on being a young dumb teenager.  That was easily overcome because I soon realized that the world also thought 20 somethings were young and dumb as well!  Problem solved.


Do people still think we're young and dumb?  Not likely.  Which I find may be slightly unacceptable.

The past few days I've been in a turning 30 funk, like for real.  Nothing people haven't heard before, just the typical,

"OMG I'm not where I wanted to be when I turned 30.  WHAaaaaaaaaaaaah.  I was 'suppose' to be married with kids and a soccer van with snacks in the back BLAH BLAH BLAH."

Instead, No, no husband, no kids, no van and for sure no snacks!  Nothing in the fridge for that matter.  (But there is an entire tray of brownies on my stove.)  But I'm not singing the single and ready to mingle tune.  Or 30 is the new 20.

Because let's be clear.  30 is NOT 20.  My butt, for SURE, is not where is was 10 years ago!  And I now have to stretch before exercising. Not 20.

20 was my time for self discovery, becoming who I am, exploring myself and exploring the world, taking life by the balls and going for broke!

I'm hoping I don't have to do another 10 years of that.  I'm hoping to learn something from 30.  I'm hoping I can be that person that I found in my 20's, really capitalize on what I'm good at, and what I was made for.  I want 30 to teach me how to own where I am in life and how to love who God made me to be and not what I've accomplished "so far."

I think with God (and a teenie bit of help from the internet) this is TOTALLY possible!

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Handling it is not Possible

God will never give you more than you can handle.

Thats what "they" say.

Well frankly I don't believe it.

Do you recall those nights you spent in the fetal position balling your eyes out trying to distract yourself from the carouse wheel of thoughts going through your mind, replaying terrible conversations, attempting to fight back random outbursts, having unnecessary fights and complete and utter breakdowns, I find it very hard to believe that any of that represents ANY version of "handling" it.

Will you live through this? Yes.

More than likely it won't kill you.

But Is it more than you can handle?  Yes. ABSOLUTELY.

I am not that strong.  (I'm also slightly dramatic...)

I've been in depressing situations before.  I worked for the Devil Wears Prada back in my New York days and thought I'd never be the same after that experience.  Yet somehow the human psyche is resilient and I made it back to myself.

But during that time did I handle it?  No way.  I was angry, I cried, I got depressed, I GOT ZITS!

Now don't get me wrong I don't think God threw me under the bus or anything.  I just feel like maybe that saying is a little off.

Like maybe...

God will never give you more than HE can handle.

Because I can't handle much of anything.  But WITH God...well we all know my stance on that one.

With God (the internet...and lately lots of coffee) ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE!

Monday, November 26, 2012

From lake water to salt water

Remember what it was like starting your first day of high school?

New school, older kids who already knew a thing or two about the show, feeling like you went from lake water to salt water.

Going from junior high where you ruled the school, established yourself, made friends, dominated in sports and choir, teachers loved you...

You knew everything. Every secret. Every problem. And how to solve them.

I mean it took years to get you to where you were, figuring out who you were and how you fit in. To be on top of it all and then WHAM!

High School.

(because your birthday was a week ago)

Dodging 18 year old, potential army recruits in the hallway, completely lost trying to find your class.

New expectations from jaded teachers.

All your old friends dressed in new grown up clothes and you're wearing the same dress you wore the first day of school last year with your favorite number on it, that went over so well last year...

Wanting to stay home to avoid the change and impending humiliation.

Trying to remember WHY you were so excited ALL summer long for high school to start?

Parents promising that what you learn in high school will help prepare you for the real world.

Not knowing that what you learn in class is pretty much null and void in the real world, but the adaptability skills you acquire is what you will learn to pull from in the future.

I started a new job and that eerily familiar feeling of first day/week jitters came back all over again.

What do I wear? How do I act? Is everyone going to be nice? What about my old friends that aren't coming with me to my new job?

I don't fit in. I stick out like a sore thumb. Nobody knows me at all.

Can I just go back to my old job and the comforts of the mayhem there?

What comforts me, ironically, is knowing I've done this all before. Twice.


As an extra small 14 year old. Walking into a big brand new school. Only knowing a couple of people. Not once but twice in the same year having transferred to another high school mid year.

Knowing I walked in confidently, figured it out, got through it.

And remembering how high school ended...


If 14 year old me can turn a big scary situation into a complete success without the tools and life experience I have now then what makes me think I can't do it now? 15 years later?

Throw in some of that 14 year old disillusionment and spunk and the things I know now, I know everything will be just fine.

Because, now I know that, with God (and the Internet) all things are possible!


Monday, March 5, 2012

I drank my half full glass

The past few months I've been crazy happy about my life.

I mean it's awesome.

Although I'm old. I'm proud of myself.

My own place. A job I like. A small business with loads of potential. A hot and successful boyfriend. I'm working out and my clothes look great on me!

Then all of a sudden I realize that HEY...I've got 3 traffic tickets in the last 2 months. Those aren't cheap. And traffic school is not the place to be.

Shoot. I left my oven on broil last night and fell asleep.

NO! I drove to work and left my heater on. AND fell asleep with it on and charred my comforter.

Wow! I'm so Rich! I have so much money I might be in surplus this month! Just kidding my rent is just late...

Within one day my life sucked! Seriously! I tried to rationalize all the reasons why my life was in shambles...do I have too much on my plate? Have I made a million wrong life decisions? Am I starting my period?

My glass used to be half full, I'm sure of it.

But I think one night when I got really thirsty I drank it all.

Goal for the week. So start filling my glass back up and make my grass greener!

With God (and the internet) I'm pretty sure that's doable.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

I'm Old But Don't Expect Anything

I'm old. I'm sure of it.

One- People GASP! When they hear my age.
Could be because I look not a day over 18...ok 19.
Or it could be because I'm OLD

Two- I can't just call my friends any more. All of a sudden I'm pencilling in phone dates with friends I've known for years.
Could be the sign of the times.

Or it could be because I'm OLD

But the thing about being 27 is that anyone in their 40's or 50's and possibly their late 30's, will tell you with all confidence

"27! Oh Honey you have plenty of time!"

I'm not sure they realize what I haven't done yet when they make a statement that large...But I'd rather not rebuttal with, (for fear of embarrassment)

"Really! =) You think I have plenty of time to move out of my parents house, start a career, get married, buy a house, have children, put them through college, retire and meet my grand kids before I'm blind or break a hip! Thank you that's so sweet."

But tell anyone who's your age, or around the ripe age of 20, how old you are and they think you're half way to the grave. Those are the ones that make me understand why women start to lie about their age.

There's an expectation people have of you when they find out your age. If you're 18 it's ok to have a high school diploma and a job at a cool retail spot.

If you're 27 and the only knowledge someone has is that you work retail you're an automatic failure at life. And I don't have the desire to explain why I'm so old to every Joe, John and Harry. It's easier to just say "I'm 18."

And Wha La. Zero expectations.

My only problem is the lying part, I'm a big lie hater and incessantly correct myself when I leave the truth behind. UGH!

My life is so hard!

But with God and the Internet I'm sure I'll manage =)

Sunday, August 8, 2010

No Relationship, I Just want your Babies Please.

It's not my fault that the only boyfriend I've ever had is the one that I have now. Seriously. I was the best me I could be, athletic, cute, funny. Guys were interested.

BIG CATCH: They all wanted only to have my babies.

None of them actually wanted to properly "court" me and be my boyfriend as I so desired. They strictly wanted to impregnate me and watch our babies transform into these Super Human, Brown, Sports God's.

"BEASTS" as they'd affectionately refer to "our offspring."

As I mentioned in an earlier post I was quite a little athlete and while I thought it was a great reason for a guy to want me to be his girlfriend, they thought it was an even GREATER reason to skip all that nonsense and go straight for what really mattered. Passing on their DNA to a female host with an uncanny ability to master sports.

Which makes it safe to assume this could be part of the reason I've been able to maintain wearing my chastity belt for so long. Because I knew these fools were trying to be anything but "safe" and with the incredibly fertile females in my family, I knew if we were alone when the lights went out I'd probably be spitting out triplets at 17.

They loved that I was "Black" (I tried to tell them I was only half and any babies with them would only make them lighter. But to no avail) and that I was the strongest girl in school, and couldn't be beaten in 3 varsity sports.

Needless to say I always had a crush on whoever was propositioning me for children and I had the toughest time smashing into their brain that I just wanted them to take me on a date and love me!

With all these guys wanting me to bare their children it's surprising I didn't have my first kiss until a few weeks before my 18th birthday, with the guy who literally wanted to create a Super Human Race and even asked his girlfriend if he could have babies with a Black Girl (in retrospect...I should have known that was going no where. =/ )

And although it was depressing that my ovaries interested the other gender more than my personality or even my hot body! I knew that if I was doomed to be an old spinster, I would always be able to fulfill my dream of having a family. I could just close my eyes point a finger and WHAH LA! Baby Daddy!

Which makes me wonder where these girls find these guys who never want to have kids, because it seems the only ones I can find are ready to jump on board...or in bed...

Luckily, for now, I don't have to be on the hunt for a man who doesn't ONLY want me too fatten me up with his "seed."

Because with lots of God, and a little internet, I've found someone who know's there's a possibility our children may not be brown, possibly a bit clumsy, not very good at math, and is still willing to take the risk of loving me anyway. *sigh* Finally!