It's more about what's on my face, acne. When I was younger I had the most beautiful complexion. As an adult that all changed. The second wave of puberty in my mid twenties brought on horrific adult acne. My face is covered.
I have a customer service job that requires me to deal with customers face to face on a daily basis. My position also requires that I meet certain sales goals. Currently my confidence is shot. I keep thinking when anyone looks at me all they can see is my acne.
Nothing I try seems to work. I went to a dermatologist, a clinical social worker, and a general practitioner. They prescribed various products that only made it worse. I've tried Pro-active and various over the counter "advanced" treatments. I have even tried make-up to cover it up but it gives me rashes. I am reaching a point of desperation here.
Maybe I should wear a bag over my head. A ski mask. Convince my boss to make every day mascarade day. You don't have to be a teenager to feel the humiliation that acne brings. Believe me I know.
Visiters
Geometric Shapes of Love
In the sequel to "Prep School Sins" with the title TBD I find myself resorting back to love quadrangles.
Two of the characters are getting married, but you don't find out which ones until much later on. Is it two of the original characters? Did I throw someone new into the mix? Hmmm...
And then two characters have this 'friends with benefits' thing going on. Funny thing is they both want something more, but neither one knows it. They are both afraid to ruin a "good thing". Will either of them take that leap of faith?
A love triangle that started back in the first book in High School has never fully been resolved. The girl loves both boys, but in different ways. And each boy appeals to a different part of who she is. Boundaries will be crossed.
And a purely platonic friendship is tested by a chance meeting overseas. They are both single, curious about the road that was never taken, and oceans apart from their former lovers.
Believe it or not, not ALL of my characters are sex crazed lunatics. Most of them, but not all. I have thrown a virgin into the mix. How long this person will stay a virgin is another matter entirely.
And how about another form of love; the parent for their child. There are two unexpected pregnancies that alter relationships within the entire group of friends.
Two of the characters are getting married, but you don't find out which ones until much later on. Is it two of the original characters? Did I throw someone new into the mix? Hmmm...
And then two characters have this 'friends with benefits' thing going on. Funny thing is they both want something more, but neither one knows it. They are both afraid to ruin a "good thing". Will either of them take that leap of faith?
A love triangle that started back in the first book in High School has never fully been resolved. The girl loves both boys, but in different ways. And each boy appeals to a different part of who she is. Boundaries will be crossed.
And a purely platonic friendship is tested by a chance meeting overseas. They are both single, curious about the road that was never taken, and oceans apart from their former lovers.
Believe it or not, not ALL of my characters are sex crazed lunatics. Most of them, but not all. I have thrown a virgin into the mix. How long this person will stay a virgin is another matter entirely.
And how about another form of love; the parent for their child. There are two unexpected pregnancies that alter relationships within the entire group of friends.
Naked
I could take off all my clothes, but you would never see the real me
It's hidden deep beneath layers of fear and insecurity
Chained to the mistakes of my past I'm unwilling to let go
The darkest corners of a damged heart no one will ever know
I am an illusion, a trickery for your eyes
The person that you think you see has been puzzled together by lies
An armored defense against the fragility of my vulnerability
I could take off all my clothes, but you would never see the real me
**Disclaimer: This is only a cry for help to myself. I need to stop harming and start soothing**
It's hidden deep beneath layers of fear and insecurity
Chained to the mistakes of my past I'm unwilling to let go
The darkest corners of a damged heart no one will ever know
I am an illusion, a trickery for your eyes
The person that you think you see has been puzzled together by lies
An armored defense against the fragility of my vulnerability
I could take off all my clothes, but you would never see the real me
**Disclaimer: This is only a cry for help to myself. I need to stop harming and start soothing**
Nothing worth having comes easy, at least not for me
** Disclaimer: This post is about "women things"**
I have always had problems with my cycle; either not coming or coming too often. For the last four and a half months it didn't come at all. The doctor confirmed I was NOT pregnant, so she gave me a medicine to induce me. This medicine made me physically sick. Four periods jammed into one does not make my body happy, but it had to be done. This is why I can't get pregnant on my own because even when I do get my period my body doesn't release eggs.
Today was day one of taking the fertility drug that will hopefully get me pregnant and I spent most of the day doubled over in pain. I was groaning. I was crying. I was physically shaking. When I tried to sleep it off I had nightmares about taking caring of other people's babies, but never having one of my own. (This is a nightmare for someone trying to conceive)
My body had always been some sort of medical anomaly. I have medical conditions no one can diagnose therefore not properly treat. My test results always come back negative/normal even when something is clearly wrong with me (vomiting green). And when it comes to medicine I either have a strong reaction that only occurs in 1% of the population or no reaction at all.
I am going to look at the positive. Maybe my body is reacting so strongly to this medicine and this means it'll work. I need this to work. We've been trying for two years now with no success while at least five people around me were blessed with "oopsies". So I will grind my teeth, hold back the tears, and practice my deep breathing if it means I can end up with a baby in the end.
I have always had problems with my cycle; either not coming or coming too often. For the last four and a half months it didn't come at all. The doctor confirmed I was NOT pregnant, so she gave me a medicine to induce me. This medicine made me physically sick. Four periods jammed into one does not make my body happy, but it had to be done. This is why I can't get pregnant on my own because even when I do get my period my body doesn't release eggs.
Today was day one of taking the fertility drug that will hopefully get me pregnant and I spent most of the day doubled over in pain. I was groaning. I was crying. I was physically shaking. When I tried to sleep it off I had nightmares about taking caring of other people's babies, but never having one of my own. (This is a nightmare for someone trying to conceive)
My body had always been some sort of medical anomaly. I have medical conditions no one can diagnose therefore not properly treat. My test results always come back negative/normal even when something is clearly wrong with me (vomiting green). And when it comes to medicine I either have a strong reaction that only occurs in 1% of the population or no reaction at all.
I am going to look at the positive. Maybe my body is reacting so strongly to this medicine and this means it'll work. I need this to work. We've been trying for two years now with no success while at least five people around me were blessed with "oopsies". So I will grind my teeth, hold back the tears, and practice my deep breathing if it means I can end up with a baby in the end.
I think I can, I think I can
I claimed there was no way I could skim down my MS from over 200,000 words into a much more reasonable low 100's for YA/Crossover. At first I cut it down from 234,000 to 214,000. Second time around I ended up at 205,000. Round three left me with 199,932.
4/22/10 189,490
4/24/10 185,583
Grand total since my highest point: skimmed off approx. 48,417 words. And I'm not done folks as I am only about 1/5 through my book. My original goal was to get my book down to 150,000 but now I am thinking I can get it between 120-130,000. When my critique partners grab a hold of it maybe they can get me closer to that 100,000 mark that agents seem to like.
As I re-read through my hard copy for the fourth time I am practically hacking it with my machete/pen for the word dumps, info dumps, and anything remotely dumpy in nature. I thought this would be an emotionally trying process for me, but in a peverse way it actually excites me. Is that weird?
I am looking forward to going home when I can make the edits on my computer and see the latest word count. This is yet ANOTHER example of my placing unnecessary doubt on myself. Silly silly girl.
Friends Vs Family
In 2007 I made the choice to leave my family in South Carolina and return to NY for round two. NY and I didn't work out previously, but it had been a few years and we had both grown a bit, so I thought "why not?"
Let me preface this by saying that my family is very tight. Hugs, kisses, "I love you" all the way. We celebrate everything together: birthdays, promotions, anniversaries, random Tuesdays. It is rare that I go more than a day or two without talking to my parents. And I consider my parents and older brother not only family, but friends as well. I know not every family is like this.
When I first moved back to NY my husband stayed behind in SC awaiting the sale of our house. Antonio and I reasoned it didn't make sense to pay a hefty mortgage while no one lived there. His parents offered to let me stay with them until we found a place of our own in NY. It would be a while since we couldn't purchase a new home until our current home sold. His parents are some of the most generous people I know.
His siblings are different. Different isn't necessarily bad, just something I had to get used to. During the months I was back in NY without Antonio I reached out to them as I would have my own family. I was depressed about my new job, not having a place of my own, and being without some of the most important people in my life. They didn't return my phone calls. Most of the time I left messages, but when I did get through to them I was rushed off the phone because it was a bad time. They said they'd call back. They didn't. This was my new family so I continued with my efforts. I asked to babysit their kids or if they wanted to do some social outing with me. Didn't happen though. My feelings were hurt, tears were shed, and my poor husband got stuck in the middle on countless occasions.
I had some severe health problems that resulted in a few hospitalizations. No visits, phone calls, cards, flowers. They were busy. When a friend had a social gathering the same day as a family event I always chose the family event. July 4th 2008 Antonio's mom, dad, brother, sister, spouses, and kids posed for a family portrait in the back yard without me. That was the last straw.
I can't make them something they are not. I made the choice to leave my own family behind and have to live with it now. I have a solid job, a beautiful home, and a better future in NY then I ever had in SC. I will never be 100% a part of that family no matter how hard I try and I need to be okay with that. They are not bad people by any means, just different from what I am used to. I am sure they love me in their own way.
Let me preface this by saying that my family is very tight. Hugs, kisses, "I love you" all the way. We celebrate everything together: birthdays, promotions, anniversaries, random Tuesdays. It is rare that I go more than a day or two without talking to my parents. And I consider my parents and older brother not only family, but friends as well. I know not every family is like this.
When I first moved back to NY my husband stayed behind in SC awaiting the sale of our house. Antonio and I reasoned it didn't make sense to pay a hefty mortgage while no one lived there. His parents offered to let me stay with them until we found a place of our own in NY. It would be a while since we couldn't purchase a new home until our current home sold. His parents are some of the most generous people I know.
His siblings are different. Different isn't necessarily bad, just something I had to get used to. During the months I was back in NY without Antonio I reached out to them as I would have my own family. I was depressed about my new job, not having a place of my own, and being without some of the most important people in my life. They didn't return my phone calls. Most of the time I left messages, but when I did get through to them I was rushed off the phone because it was a bad time. They said they'd call back. They didn't. This was my new family so I continued with my efforts. I asked to babysit their kids or if they wanted to do some social outing with me. Didn't happen though. My feelings were hurt, tears were shed, and my poor husband got stuck in the middle on countless occasions.
I had some severe health problems that resulted in a few hospitalizations. No visits, phone calls, cards, flowers. They were busy. When a friend had a social gathering the same day as a family event I always chose the family event. July 4th 2008 Antonio's mom, dad, brother, sister, spouses, and kids posed for a family portrait in the back yard without me. That was the last straw.
I can't make them something they are not. I made the choice to leave my own family behind and have to live with it now. I have a solid job, a beautiful home, and a better future in NY then I ever had in SC. I will never be 100% a part of that family no matter how hard I try and I need to be okay with that. They are not bad people by any means, just different from what I am used to. I am sure they love me in their own way.
Brown-eyed Broken Dolls
An unexpected friendship. She used to call me every night while he slept. My ex was her current. My scars were faded while hers were fresh. He made a habbit to beat the beauty out of a woman. Thankfully I had escaped, but would she?
Single red roses on anniversaries. Serenading "Brown Eyed Girl". Original love poems. His gentle caress. This was the side of him that lured us in like a stranger in a white van with candy.
Broken promises. Angry words. Bursts of violence. This was the side of him he hid from the rest of the world and saved just for us.
She knew my pain and I knew hers. We used to cry together into the phone. I wanted to save her although I had barely gotten out alive myself. I thought she wanted my help. Maybe she just wanted me to listen. Maybe she just needed to know that it wasn't her fault like he claimed it was because it had all happened to me too. We never even met face to face yet I had a closeness to her I didn't have with anyone else.
Then the phone calls stopped. Is she okay? I stayed awake at night imagining the worst because he was capable of the deepest kind of darkness. Years passed but I still carried a piece of her in my heart. If I prayed hard enough would they reach her? What if he took all the best parts of her until nothing was left? Maybe she was truly gone.
She was. I was. We still are his brown-eyed broken dolls.
Single red roses on anniversaries. Serenading "Brown Eyed Girl". Original love poems. His gentle caress. This was the side of him that lured us in like a stranger in a white van with candy.
Broken promises. Angry words. Bursts of violence. This was the side of him he hid from the rest of the world and saved just for us.
She knew my pain and I knew hers. We used to cry together into the phone. I wanted to save her although I had barely gotten out alive myself. I thought she wanted my help. Maybe she just wanted me to listen. Maybe she just needed to know that it wasn't her fault like he claimed it was because it had all happened to me too. We never even met face to face yet I had a closeness to her I didn't have with anyone else.
Then the phone calls stopped. Is she okay? I stayed awake at night imagining the worst because he was capable of the deepest kind of darkness. Years passed but I still carried a piece of her in my heart. If I prayed hard enough would they reach her? What if he took all the best parts of her until nothing was left? Maybe she was truly gone.
She was. I was. We still are his brown-eyed broken dolls.
www.gogo_dancersmarket.com
In an alternate reality EJ, Julie, and LB befriended one another on www.gogo_dancersmarket.com a website designed to help aspiring Go Go dancers harnace their craft and potentially find an agent or dance hall to employ them. This is a highly desired field that only the best of the best make it into and of those lucky few an even smaller percentage becomes a household name.
EJ has started a critique group where the members upload videos of performance ideas and they meet weekly to discuss how to further tweak that talent. The following is a chat on Google Messenger:
EJ: Julie I like what you've done with the feathers, but remember there is a fine line between classy and trashy. You don't want to overdo it because then you risk alienating potential customers.
Julie: Thanks EJ. I was hoping to make a statement that would help me stand out from the rest. It's so hard to break into this industry you know?
EJ: Tell me about it, I'm a guy going for it. How many male go-go dancers do you know?
LB: LOL. I had issues with the shoes you were wearing Julie. 9 inch heels are pretty risky. Unless you feel 100% confident in them you're going to hurt yourself.
Julie: Good point LB. I had a question for EJ.
EJ: Shoot.
Julie: Did you always want to be a Go-Go dancer?
EJ: No actually believe it or not I once wanted to write Young Adult non-fiction. But where's the challenge in that? Anyone can be a writer. And in the end that's not where my heart was.
LB: Tell me about it. When I see myself on the stage I'm hoping to be a featured dancer. I like to dream big. For me it's also about the financial security I could provide my family if I really make it.
Julie: I forget whose video we're reviewing next week?
LB: That would be mine. I'm trying something new with leather chaps and it'll be interesting to see what you guys think.
EJ has started a critique group where the members upload videos of performance ideas and they meet weekly to discuss how to further tweak that talent. The following is a chat on Google Messenger:
EJ: Julie I like what you've done with the feathers, but remember there is a fine line between classy and trashy. You don't want to overdo it because then you risk alienating potential customers.
Julie: Thanks EJ. I was hoping to make a statement that would help me stand out from the rest. It's so hard to break into this industry you know?
EJ: Tell me about it, I'm a guy going for it. How many male go-go dancers do you know?
LB: LOL. I had issues with the shoes you were wearing Julie. 9 inch heels are pretty risky. Unless you feel 100% confident in them you're going to hurt yourself.
Julie: Good point LB. I had a question for EJ.
EJ: Shoot.
Julie: Did you always want to be a Go-Go dancer?
EJ: No actually believe it or not I once wanted to write Young Adult non-fiction. But where's the challenge in that? Anyone can be a writer. And in the end that's not where my heart was.
LB: Tell me about it. When I see myself on the stage I'm hoping to be a featured dancer. I like to dream big. For me it's also about the financial security I could provide my family if I really make it.
Julie: I forget whose video we're reviewing next week?
LB: That would be mine. I'm trying something new with leather chaps and it'll be interesting to see what you guys think.
Stolen From Claire
Question 1: Where were you five years ago?
1. Bluffton, SC
2. Atlanta, GA
3. Okatie Elementary
4. Hilton Head, SC
5. Sun City, SC
Question 2: Where would you like to be five years from now?
1. Published
2. On the NYT Bestseller List.
3. Writing Full Time.
4. A mother of 2-3 kids
5. Financially secure
Question 3: What is (was) on your to-do list today?
1. Pivot to 4 people (sales thing for my job)
2. Claen rabbit cage
3. Put away laundry
4. Dishes in sink & dishwasher
5. Write
Question 4: What five snacks do you enjoy?
1. Samoa Girl Scout Cookies
2. Planters nuts & chocolate trail mix
3. Cheese: sliced, cubed, shredded, melted...
4. Ice Cream
5. CVS brand Jelly Beans
Question 5: What five things would you do if you were a billionaire?
1. All the items on my home rennovation list
2. Finicially help out friends & family
3. Travel: Australia, Italy, Spain, Carribean, Hawaii, Philipines...
4. Start my own publishing company
5. Donate to St Judes
1. Bluffton, SC
2. Atlanta, GA
3. Okatie Elementary
4. Hilton Head, SC
5. Sun City, SC
Question 2: Where would you like to be five years from now?
1. Published
2. On the NYT Bestseller List.
3. Writing Full Time.
4. A mother of 2-3 kids
5. Financially secure
Question 3: What is (was) on your to-do list today?
1. Pivot to 4 people (sales thing for my job)
2. Claen rabbit cage
3. Put away laundry
4. Dishes in sink & dishwasher
5. Write
Question 4: What five snacks do you enjoy?
1. Samoa Girl Scout Cookies
2. Planters nuts & chocolate trail mix
3. Cheese: sliced, cubed, shredded, melted...
4. Ice Cream
5. CVS brand Jelly Beans
Question 5: What five things would you do if you were a billionaire?
1. All the items on my home rennovation list
2. Finicially help out friends & family
3. Travel: Australia, Italy, Spain, Carribean, Hawaii, Philipines...
4. Start my own publishing company
5. Donate to St Judes
Ready or Not?
About two years ago I signed up to be a mentor to a local "At Risk" youth. Through various health problems and personal issues I discovered I wasn't able to give myself fully to my match, so I told her I needed a break to get my life in order. I felt so guilty as if I was abandoning her even though my friends assured me that unless I took care of myself first I would be of no use to her or anyone else for that matter.
I miss her. I do. She was my movie buddy. I looove going to the movies and that was what we did most of the time. Part of the problem was the expense of taking her out every week; food and an activity. I tried to budget for it, yet I struggled. I tried to bring DVD's (I have a massive personal collection) and food to her apartment but she preferred to go out.
She told me she was going to find another mentor because she didn't want to wait around for me. It hurt, but I told her I supported her decision. Just like I had to do what was best for me I understood she had to do what was best for her. I didn't think it was fair to either of us to put a time constraint on when I'd be back in the game because I honestly didn't know when that will be.
Last Thursday she texted me asking if I was doing any better and could we hang again. She changed her mind about finding another match and only wants me. I am torn because I miss her, it's been nearly four months now, but I don't want to jump back in before I'm ready. That wouldn't be fair to either of us. If it makes a difference to anyone she's fourteen years old, a good kid, but came from a difficult home life.
I feel like a selfish jerk. Deep down I know I'm not, but I can't help the way I feel.
I miss her. I do. She was my movie buddy. I looove going to the movies and that was what we did most of the time. Part of the problem was the expense of taking her out every week; food and an activity. I tried to budget for it, yet I struggled. I tried to bring DVD's (I have a massive personal collection) and food to her apartment but she preferred to go out.
She told me she was going to find another mentor because she didn't want to wait around for me. It hurt, but I told her I supported her decision. Just like I had to do what was best for me I understood she had to do what was best for her. I didn't think it was fair to either of us to put a time constraint on when I'd be back in the game because I honestly didn't know when that will be.
Last Thursday she texted me asking if I was doing any better and could we hang again. She changed her mind about finding another match and only wants me. I am torn because I miss her, it's been nearly four months now, but I don't want to jump back in before I'm ready. That wouldn't be fair to either of us. If it makes a difference to anyone she's fourteen years old, a good kid, but came from a difficult home life.
I feel like a selfish jerk. Deep down I know I'm not, but I can't help the way I feel.
Shining Moments in Customer Servicing
For more than a decade I have been in some form of customer service and believe me when I say I have seen it all: screaming, crying, sexual seductions, cursing, and freshly baked cookies. What helps us fellow CSR's (Customer Service Reps) make it through the day is the highlight reel in customer stupidity. It humbles us and reminds us how underpaid, under appreciated, and well on our way to anti-depressants we are.
Santa Land
The official policy is that ANYONE can visit Santa during normal business hours as many times as they want. We never pressure or push a sale because there are countless reasons why people can't/won't/don't buy our photos. Having said this there are parents who accuse us of ruining Christmas when we won't let them take their own photos of their child on Santa's lap. As my boss so deftly pointed out "This is a business. Santa and the helpers are on payroll regardless of how many products we sell. The display has an annual copyright fee. And the space we set-up in is rented from the mall." If we let every parent take their own photo, why would anyone be inclined to purchase one? How would Santa Land stay in business? That's like going into a restaurant and asking to use the equipment to cook your own meal. Who does that?
Major Health Insurance Company Call Center
Health Insurance is a high regulated industry with contracts, forms, and procedures. Not following guidelines could result in major penalties, fines, or lawsuits. There are two types of major complaints we receive:
Health Care Providers "You mean to tell me you didn't approve my authorization request because I filled out the form inaccurately, faxed it to the wrong department, and missed the deadline? Why didn't anyone call me personally to let me know I made these mistakes? How can I eb expected to keep track of these things. Now my patient is going to suffer because of your unwillingness to be flexible" (This was an actual conversation. Kind of scary this person has a medical degree)
Policy Holders "How was I supposed to know I had to verify my benefits before using them? What's the point of having health insurance if you won't pay for the things I want? This is a giant conspiracy to keep me sick so I keel over and die." (Not true, a loss of a customer would be a loss in premium which would mean a loss in profit. We want our customers alive and well, just not using as much of their benefits...)
A Bank in South Carolina
Not everybody is in the habit of balancing their check book and I understand how it can get easy to over do it when you rely on a debit card. Thankfully I keep track of my personal account with online banking and a nifty overdraft account. But sometimes it gets scary at the depths of stupidity in people thus making me want to restrict their banking privileges altogether. Here are some of my favorites:
"If I still have checks in my checkbook shouldn't I still have money in my account?"
"It counts when I use my debit card?"
"Someone named ODC keeps hacking into my account and charging me fees"
That's an Over Draft Charge Sir.
"Oh. Well why did I get that?"
Because you overdrew your account.
"Well how did that happen?"
Hope this at least put a smile on your face. I think there should be an academy award type ceremony for the insipid customers and the folks stuck into serving them.
Santa Land
The official policy is that ANYONE can visit Santa during normal business hours as many times as they want. We never pressure or push a sale because there are countless reasons why people can't/won't/don't buy our photos. Having said this there are parents who accuse us of ruining Christmas when we won't let them take their own photos of their child on Santa's lap. As my boss so deftly pointed out "This is a business. Santa and the helpers are on payroll regardless of how many products we sell. The display has an annual copyright fee. And the space we set-up in is rented from the mall." If we let every parent take their own photo, why would anyone be inclined to purchase one? How would Santa Land stay in business? That's like going into a restaurant and asking to use the equipment to cook your own meal. Who does that?
Major Health Insurance Company Call Center
Health Insurance is a high regulated industry with contracts, forms, and procedures. Not following guidelines could result in major penalties, fines, or lawsuits. There are two types of major complaints we receive:
Health Care Providers "You mean to tell me you didn't approve my authorization request because I filled out the form inaccurately, faxed it to the wrong department, and missed the deadline? Why didn't anyone call me personally to let me know I made these mistakes? How can I eb expected to keep track of these things. Now my patient is going to suffer because of your unwillingness to be flexible" (This was an actual conversation. Kind of scary this person has a medical degree)
Policy Holders "How was I supposed to know I had to verify my benefits before using them? What's the point of having health insurance if you won't pay for the things I want? This is a giant conspiracy to keep me sick so I keel over and die." (Not true, a loss of a customer would be a loss in premium which would mean a loss in profit. We want our customers alive and well, just not using as much of their benefits...)
A Bank in South Carolina
Not everybody is in the habit of balancing their check book and I understand how it can get easy to over do it when you rely on a debit card. Thankfully I keep track of my personal account with online banking and a nifty overdraft account. But sometimes it gets scary at the depths of stupidity in people thus making me want to restrict their banking privileges altogether. Here are some of my favorites:
"If I still have checks in my checkbook shouldn't I still have money in my account?"
"It counts when I use my debit card?"
"Someone named ODC keeps hacking into my account and charging me fees"
That's an Over Draft Charge Sir.
"Oh. Well why did I get that?"
Because you overdrew your account.
"Well how did that happen?"
Hope this at least put a smile on your face. I think there should be an academy award type ceremony for the insipid customers and the folks stuck into serving them.
Celebrity Crushes
Come on, we all have them. As for myself I have a list of about thirty or so. What can I say? In my alternate reality I'm quite the floozy. The thing that changes is who is at the top of my list. Currently it's the singing-guitar playing-Canadian brothers Sebastian and Oliver Pigott. Sebastian first came into my life when he appeared as a regular on one of my favorite TV shows "Being Erica" as rock star/barista Kai Booker. My friend Rita best described him as the love child of Ryan Phillipe and Spike from "Buffy The Vampire Slayer". He can sing and his song "Alien Like You" has been stuck on my mind for the last week...
What is it about the celebrity crush? For 99% of us it'll never happen. We'll have dirty thoughts, doodle their name in hearts on our steno pads, stalk them via Facebook/Myspace/Various Magazine covers, and buy their Cd's or movies as soon as they come out. Just how much of our desire for these celebs is due to the fact that they are so unattainable?
This brings me back to Middle School/High School where I was a chubby and awkward girl (hell I still am) gazing adoringly at the boys I will refer to as "The Beautiful People": Michael, Julian, Nick to name a few. Although not celebrities, they were some of the most physically beautiful people I have ever laid my over sized brown eyes on. They practically had groupies swooning at their feet wherever they went. For the most part they were each polite to me, but none of them would ever date me. There was a caste system in school and "The Beautiful People" only dated their female counterparts. In my opinion these boys were just as unattainable to me back then as the Pigott brothers are to me today.
So what exactly is the point to these crushes if they are doomed from the very start? I haven't a damn clue, yet it hasn't stopped me at 29 years old from still getting them. Who is your impossible dreamboat?
What is it about the celebrity crush? For 99% of us it'll never happen. We'll have dirty thoughts, doodle their name in hearts on our steno pads, stalk them via Facebook/Myspace/Various Magazine covers, and buy their Cd's or movies as soon as they come out. Just how much of our desire for these celebs is due to the fact that they are so unattainable?
This brings me back to Middle School/High School where I was a chubby and awkward girl (hell I still am) gazing adoringly at the boys I will refer to as "The Beautiful People": Michael, Julian, Nick to name a few. Although not celebrities, they were some of the most physically beautiful people I have ever laid my over sized brown eyes on. They practically had groupies swooning at their feet wherever they went. For the most part they were each polite to me, but none of them would ever date me. There was a caste system in school and "The Beautiful People" only dated their female counterparts. In my opinion these boys were just as unattainable to me back then as the Pigott brothers are to me today.
So what exactly is the point to these crushes if they are doomed from the very start? I haven't a damn clue, yet it hasn't stopped me at 29 years old from still getting them. Who is your impossible dreamboat?
Confessional
So I cheated. I admit it was wrong, but it felt so damn good at the time. The sweet taste on my lips followed by the unparalleled satisfaction afterwards. Who am I kidding? I cheat all the time.
In the morning I find myself tip toeing into the kitchen sneaking in the freezer and being seduced by the delicousness of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. Ice cream for breakfast? I know how crazy it must sound,but she compells me. In the middle of the day when I think no one is looking I open up my desk drawer to pop some chocolate morsals in my mouth. I love the way it melts on my tongue. Sometimes for lunch I sneak off to the corner ice cream shop for a brownie sundae with nuts.
It doesn't matter where I am because temptation is everywhere. The girl scout cookies were chating my name, the candy bar in the vending machine flirting with me, and the jelly beans in that clear package were begging for it.
I am weak. Like a coward to try to hide the evidence from those around me. "Aren't you on a diet?" I change the topic. "How's that weight loss effort going?" I pretend I don't hear them. Do you know what I do hear?
Doritos, Peanut M&M's, Double Stuff Oreos, shredded cheese, hershey kisses, jelly beans, Carvel Ice Cream Cake, Reeses Peanut Butter Cups...
I have naughty naughty thoughts about them. I salivate when I see them. I can't even stay faithful to the same one for too long before I desire the comfort of another. What's a girl to do? I should probably think this over while I enjoy a nice pint of Death By Chocolate.
In the morning I find myself tip toeing into the kitchen sneaking in the freezer and being seduced by the delicousness of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. Ice cream for breakfast? I know how crazy it must sound,but she compells me. In the middle of the day when I think no one is looking I open up my desk drawer to pop some chocolate morsals in my mouth. I love the way it melts on my tongue. Sometimes for lunch I sneak off to the corner ice cream shop for a brownie sundae with nuts.
It doesn't matter where I am because temptation is everywhere. The girl scout cookies were chating my name, the candy bar in the vending machine flirting with me, and the jelly beans in that clear package were begging for it.
I am weak. Like a coward to try to hide the evidence from those around me. "Aren't you on a diet?" I change the topic. "How's that weight loss effort going?" I pretend I don't hear them. Do you know what I do hear?
Doritos, Peanut M&M's, Double Stuff Oreos, shredded cheese, hershey kisses, jelly beans, Carvel Ice Cream Cake, Reeses Peanut Butter Cups...
I have naughty naughty thoughts about them. I salivate when I see them. I can't even stay faithful to the same one for too long before I desire the comfort of another. What's a girl to do? I should probably think this over while I enjoy a nice pint of Death By Chocolate.
Am I ready?
Yesterday at the doctors office she asks me the most obvious question of all, "Are you ready for the next step?"
My brown eyes widen and I hesitate. Am I ready? Antonio and I have wanted a baby for so long, we have tried so hard, and with this course of treatment I could get pregnant (best case scenario) in a month's time. financially we are not 100% where we want to be, my health is not 100% where it should be, but am I ready? Are you ever really ready for parenthood?
My entire life I have had theories on parenthood which parents I know claim will completely change once I am in the actual situation, but what i do know is the love I could give a child. Anyone who has ever met me could never doubt the abundance of love I hold in my heart and how readily I dispense it to those in my life. A couple of years ago I started making positive changes in my life in anticipation of a baby.
Am I ready? I don't know, but I want to be. There are so many things I want in my life: to be a top selling novelist, to be thin and "beautiful", to be financially secure, to be mentally and physically well...above all else I want a child in my life. I know I will fumble, I don't expect perfection in my parenting like I demand it in other aspects of my life. And I know all the classes, books, websites, advice, and magazines will never prepare me for the actuality of parenthood.
I am ready to give my heart, love, attention, devotion, and life to someone else without expecting anything in return.
My brown eyes widen and I hesitate. Am I ready? Antonio and I have wanted a baby for so long, we have tried so hard, and with this course of treatment I could get pregnant (best case scenario) in a month's time. financially we are not 100% where we want to be, my health is not 100% where it should be, but am I ready? Are you ever really ready for parenthood?
My entire life I have had theories on parenthood which parents I know claim will completely change once I am in the actual situation, but what i do know is the love I could give a child. Anyone who has ever met me could never doubt the abundance of love I hold in my heart and how readily I dispense it to those in my life. A couple of years ago I started making positive changes in my life in anticipation of a baby.
Am I ready? I don't know, but I want to be. There are so many things I want in my life: to be a top selling novelist, to be thin and "beautiful", to be financially secure, to be mentally and physically well...above all else I want a child in my life. I know I will fumble, I don't expect perfection in my parenting like I demand it in other aspects of my life. And I know all the classes, books, websites, advice, and magazines will never prepare me for the actuality of parenthood.
I am ready to give my heart, love, attention, devotion, and life to someone else without expecting anything in return.
Extreme Makeover Novel Edition
Thanks to Rita I have an exciting new title for my novel which is more true to teh story line and more enticing to potential readers, agents, and publishers. "The Journey" is now "Prep School Sins".
That's not where it ends though because I have some great re-write ideas that both include trimming the fat, making more sense of some confusing parts, and tightening up the story line.
First draft done in March
Second draft done in March by myself
Third draft done in April by Rita/myself
Draft four will be the labor of love with my critic partners EJ & Julie probably sometime in May...
Once the novel is a lean and sexy piece I will revamp my query letter as well. Here's to the great things yet to come...
That's not where it ends though because I have some great re-write ideas that both include trimming the fat, making more sense of some confusing parts, and tightening up the story line.
First draft done in March
Second draft done in March by myself
Third draft done in April by Rita/myself
Draft four will be the labor of love with my critic partners EJ & Julie probably sometime in May...
Once the novel is a lean and sexy piece I will revamp my query letter as well. Here's to the great things yet to come...
Small step in the right direction
My Monday morning weigh in was 169.1
That's .7 lbs down since last week which is not significant, but it's heading in the right direction. Things I'll repeat: meal planning, water drinking, and making wiser food choices.
Things I would like to add, some walking. I have a chronic shoulder/back injury that unfortunately prevents me from doing the aerobic activities I used to do: kick boxing, step, circuit training, ect. But I think my body can handle some power walking.
The weight saga will continue next Monday folks...
That's .7 lbs down since last week which is not significant, but it's heading in the right direction. Things I'll repeat: meal planning, water drinking, and making wiser food choices.
Things I would like to add, some walking. I have a chronic shoulder/back injury that unfortunately prevents me from doing the aerobic activities I used to do: kick boxing, step, circuit training, ect. But I think my body can handle some power walking.
The weight saga will continue next Monday folks...
10 Years From Now
Recently I did a blog about 10 years ago when I was bullied and tormented in High School. Inspired I decided to do a post where I see myself 10 years from now and since this is my fantasy the sky is the limit.
My Husband
Arena football games, Friday night poker, and 80's wrestling
He has the time and freedom to enjoy these things
No longer confined by a 3-job 70 hour work week
No more jobs, but a career he loves and makes good money doing
Adopting a black lab from a shelter and naming it Denny or Bandit
Visiting his good friend Joe in Arizona
Visiting his family in Italy
Afternoon naps on the living room recliner
Putting money away into IRA's, savings accounts, investments
Family dinners
Getting his master suite extension on the house
A Mother
Watching Saturday Morning cartoons
Running barefoot in the backyard while blowing bubbles
Reading bedtime stories when I tuck them in at night
Homework, parent teacher conferences, doctors check ups
Convincing them to eat vegetables even though I don't do it as much as I should
Family portraits in coordinated clothes (yes I am cheesy like that)
Visits to Santa and the Easter Bunny, visits from the Tooth Fairy
Spending the holidays in S.C. with my parents
Packing lunches for the pickiest of eaters
Worrying that I did enough or maybe that I did too much
Starting and ending each day with the words "I love you"
Passing my wisdom on to them even though atleast 80% of it will be ignored
Knowing that nothing else matters as long as they are happy, healthy, and safe
An Author
My agent is like an extended member of the family to me: tough yet encouraging
Successfully published 6 or 7 novels at this point
New York Times Best Sellers List
Cross-country book tour where I do readings and signings
Paying it forward I mentor a young aspiring novelist
This is my full time career
An adjunct professor at SUNY Albany
My skill has grown and developed with each new project
Financial security
Healthy
Finally taking better care of myself
Power walking every morning
Yoga every afternoon
Fruits, lean proteins, whole grains, and lots and lots of water
Combating anger with deep breathing and meditation
No longer holding it in, I scream and cry when life becomes too much
At peace with myself because I have let go of what hurt me in the past
Acupuncture and medicinal massage for my shoulder
A good nights rest when the kids let me
Limited treats because they are treats, not necessities
My biggest hunger is for life
My Husband
Arena football games, Friday night poker, and 80's wrestling
He has the time and freedom to enjoy these things
No longer confined by a 3-job 70 hour work week
No more jobs, but a career he loves and makes good money doing
Adopting a black lab from a shelter and naming it Denny or Bandit
Visiting his good friend Joe in Arizona
Visiting his family in Italy
Afternoon naps on the living room recliner
Putting money away into IRA's, savings accounts, investments
Family dinners
Getting his master suite extension on the house
A Mother
Watching Saturday Morning cartoons
Running barefoot in the backyard while blowing bubbles
Reading bedtime stories when I tuck them in at night
Homework, parent teacher conferences, doctors check ups
Convincing them to eat vegetables even though I don't do it as much as I should
Family portraits in coordinated clothes (yes I am cheesy like that)
Visits to Santa and the Easter Bunny, visits from the Tooth Fairy
Spending the holidays in S.C. with my parents
Packing lunches for the pickiest of eaters
Worrying that I did enough or maybe that I did too much
Starting and ending each day with the words "I love you"
Passing my wisdom on to them even though atleast 80% of it will be ignored
Knowing that nothing else matters as long as they are happy, healthy, and safe
An Author
My agent is like an extended member of the family to me: tough yet encouraging
Successfully published 6 or 7 novels at this point
New York Times Best Sellers List
Cross-country book tour where I do readings and signings
Paying it forward I mentor a young aspiring novelist
This is my full time career
An adjunct professor at SUNY Albany
My skill has grown and developed with each new project
Financial security
Healthy
Finally taking better care of myself
Power walking every morning
Yoga every afternoon
Fruits, lean proteins, whole grains, and lots and lots of water
Combating anger with deep breathing and meditation
No longer holding it in, I scream and cry when life becomes too much
At peace with myself because I have let go of what hurt me in the past
Acupuncture and medicinal massage for my shoulder
A good nights rest when the kids let me
Limited treats because they are treats, not necessities
My biggest hunger is for life
The first cut is the deepest, but the second and third hurt too
I forewarn anyone who is about to read this by explaining this is a rant. Nothing more and nothing less. And the person this is about probably won't even read it, so this is just for me to let out the hurt I am feeling.
Yesterday I sat across from her as she tore my book apart. Anxiously I had waited more than two weeks for her editing and critique, but was unprepared for what came my way. My friend made fun of my book both orally and in her written notes. I expected constructive critisism from one of the most intelligent and articulate people I know. Some of it was constructive: outline the key plot points in the book, list the reasons they are important, and flesh out the rest. Specific examples were given as to why she felt certain character interactions were uneccesary or unbelievable. But then she made fun of my book. She laughed as I sat there holding back the tears. I don't even think she noticed my tears because she just kept on going. She quoted some of my own words back to me in a mocking way. Then she told me she glossed over certian parts entirely. Glossed over them? WTF! This was destructive.
This was the second time I asked for her help with my novel. The first time I waited and waited and waited for her feedback. The first time I wasn't so patient as I pestered her with text messages about her progress. I made sure this time around to be patient. After two weeks of waiting she gave me an hour of her time because she made other plans that day with another friend. And when I asked her what she liked about the book her face went blank and it was the first time she was silent. She had to actively think about anything positive, but when it came to stuff she didn't like she went on and on and on. So I asked her about specific parts of the book, my favorite parts, but she didn't like those parts either.
In the end I will probably use about 90% of her suggestions because they were good, but her delivery of these ideas was insensitive and cruel. Okay, I get it, she didn't like the book. However this was something I slaved on for months and she could have been a bit more respectful. I don't expect her to sugar coat or pacify me, but she KNEW how much this book meant to me and she metaphorically crumpled it up and kicked it in the corner. Maybe because she isn't a writer herself she just doesn't get it and then the blame can be put on me for expecting too much of her, such as empathy.
I am hurt. I am angry. I am mortified. I would have expected this from a stranger such as a professional editor or agent, but not someone who is one of my closest friends. In the end I'll get over it, rewrite this book to make it even better that it currently is which according to her is complete crap (not her exact words, just the impression I got) and figure out what I'll do from this point forward. I know what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, but my ego and confidence are a bit bruised at the moment.
Yesterday I sat across from her as she tore my book apart. Anxiously I had waited more than two weeks for her editing and critique, but was unprepared for what came my way. My friend made fun of my book both orally and in her written notes. I expected constructive critisism from one of the most intelligent and articulate people I know. Some of it was constructive: outline the key plot points in the book, list the reasons they are important, and flesh out the rest. Specific examples were given as to why she felt certain character interactions were uneccesary or unbelievable. But then she made fun of my book. She laughed as I sat there holding back the tears. I don't even think she noticed my tears because she just kept on going. She quoted some of my own words back to me in a mocking way. Then she told me she glossed over certian parts entirely. Glossed over them? WTF! This was destructive.
This was the second time I asked for her help with my novel. The first time I waited and waited and waited for her feedback. The first time I wasn't so patient as I pestered her with text messages about her progress. I made sure this time around to be patient. After two weeks of waiting she gave me an hour of her time because she made other plans that day with another friend. And when I asked her what she liked about the book her face went blank and it was the first time she was silent. She had to actively think about anything positive, but when it came to stuff she didn't like she went on and on and on. So I asked her about specific parts of the book, my favorite parts, but she didn't like those parts either.
In the end I will probably use about 90% of her suggestions because they were good, but her delivery of these ideas was insensitive and cruel. Okay, I get it, she didn't like the book. However this was something I slaved on for months and she could have been a bit more respectful. I don't expect her to sugar coat or pacify me, but she KNEW how much this book meant to me and she metaphorically crumpled it up and kicked it in the corner. Maybe because she isn't a writer herself she just doesn't get it and then the blame can be put on me for expecting too much of her, such as empathy.
I am hurt. I am angry. I am mortified. I would have expected this from a stranger such as a professional editor or agent, but not someone who is one of my closest friends. In the end I'll get over it, rewrite this book to make it even better that it currently is which according to her is complete crap (not her exact words, just the impression I got) and figure out what I'll do from this point forward. I know what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, but my ego and confidence are a bit bruised at the moment.
May 26, 1999
Mamacita was small, only 4'9'' weighing no more than ninety pounds fully clothed. She moved into our home summer of '89 after grandpa died. Mamacita argued with her daughter, my mother, that she didn't want to leave her apartment in the city. She claimed she could take care of herself. This was far from the truth because Grandpa did everything: the bills, the maintenance, the food shopping. My parents transformed the downstairs office into a fourth bedroom for Mamacita to live in, donated the majority of her belongings, and moved her into out home in Valley Cottage with her kicking and screaming the entire way.
Mamacita is Spanish for little mother.
She rarely left the house except to occasionally get the mail across the yard, but that was only when she remembered. It was rare that she even made it to the upstairs of the house. Her favorite past times included watching wrestling on TV, stealing my barbies for herself, and knitting. As a child I was embarrassed when my friends came over to play at her ramblings in Spanglish to her empty room. Mamacita claimed she was praying or talking to her dead husband. We used to joke that she would outlive us all, she had already outlived two sons and a husband and out survived my other three grandparents.
Her given name was Dolores which is Spanish for pain.
I remember wanting her to love me. She loved my brother best because she said he reminded her of her dead son Richard, for who he had been named after. She had no use for me; I was the little girl of her little girl, but my brother was the son she had longed for for decades. Mamacita's face lit up whenever she saw Richard, but with me it was as if I bothered her. We fought, Mamacita and I, over everything and nothing at all. Having been robbed of a grandparent since the other three had died when I was so young I longed to have a connection with her. I needed Mamacita to love me.
The mere scents of her cooking were mouthwatering.
May 26, 1999 I came home from school. It was three days before my senior prom. There was a school event that night, I was in a rush, and I almost walked right past it. The upstairs bathroom light was on and the door was wide open. Mamacita hunched over and lifeless. It didn't matter that I was 18 years old because in that moment I was just a little girl who had lost her only remaining granparent. It reminded me how nearly ten years earlier I had discovered my grandfather, her husband, lifeless on the family room recliner.
I think Dolores "mamacita" Diaz died of a broken heart.
She used to talk about Puorto Rico, her country, and how wonderful it was. I used to think if it was so wonderful she should just go back. Mamacita did leave my house, but to go some place else. On the front steps of my house I watched my brother cry. On the front steps of my house I watched the ambulance cart her away. On the front steps of my house I realized I had lost something in a way I had never had.
Mamacita is Spanish for little mother.
She rarely left the house except to occasionally get the mail across the yard, but that was only when she remembered. It was rare that she even made it to the upstairs of the house. Her favorite past times included watching wrestling on TV, stealing my barbies for herself, and knitting. As a child I was embarrassed when my friends came over to play at her ramblings in Spanglish to her empty room. Mamacita claimed she was praying or talking to her dead husband. We used to joke that she would outlive us all, she had already outlived two sons and a husband and out survived my other three grandparents.
Her given name was Dolores which is Spanish for pain.
I remember wanting her to love me. She loved my brother best because she said he reminded her of her dead son Richard, for who he had been named after. She had no use for me; I was the little girl of her little girl, but my brother was the son she had longed for for decades. Mamacita's face lit up whenever she saw Richard, but with me it was as if I bothered her. We fought, Mamacita and I, over everything and nothing at all. Having been robbed of a grandparent since the other three had died when I was so young I longed to have a connection with her. I needed Mamacita to love me.
The mere scents of her cooking were mouthwatering.
May 26, 1999 I came home from school. It was three days before my senior prom. There was a school event that night, I was in a rush, and I almost walked right past it. The upstairs bathroom light was on and the door was wide open. Mamacita hunched over and lifeless. It didn't matter that I was 18 years old because in that moment I was just a little girl who had lost her only remaining granparent. It reminded me how nearly ten years earlier I had discovered my grandfather, her husband, lifeless on the family room recliner.
I think Dolores "mamacita" Diaz died of a broken heart.
She used to talk about Puorto Rico, her country, and how wonderful it was. I used to think if it was so wonderful she should just go back. Mamacita did leave my house, but to go some place else. On the front steps of my house I watched my brother cry. On the front steps of my house I watched the ambulance cart her away. On the front steps of my house I realized I had lost something in a way I had never had.
Going Where Most Women wouldn't Dare to
This morning I weigh in at an astonishing 169.8! This is officially the heaviest I have ever been. Just to give you some perspective I am only 4'11'' which means a healthy range for my height should be 99-119 lbs. My personal goal in 115. I need to lose 55 lbs, nearly 1/3 of my weight.
So let's see how I do legitimately following the program I ordered for my birthday which includes proper diet, moderate exercise, and drinking about 100 oz of water a day.
I will report back on my progress each Monday.
So let's see how I do legitimately following the program I ordered for my birthday which includes proper diet, moderate exercise, and drinking about 100 oz of water a day.
I will report back on my progress each Monday.
I can't have my cake, eat it too, and then complain about my weight
It took me longer to get ready this afternoon and not because I'm a typical woman. I know women take soooo long to get ready: the hair, the make-up, the outfit, the accessories. That is totally not me. My husband takes longer to get ready than I do. I can put myself together in 30 minutes or less and that INCLUDES a shower. So what was up with today? I was stuck rummaging through my closet looking for something that fit me.
My weight is officially out of control. Well, let's be honest, it's been out of control for months. I am that person who eats crap, delicious crap, and then complains about my weight. Fortunately I have no health problems to date that are weight related, but diabetes and heart problems do run in my family. It's like I'm playing with a loaded gun here and one of these days its going to go off.
I have a choice: keep living like this or break the cycle. Laura Kaponer-Abate is the girl who cried diet after diet after diet. There are other aspects of my life that I am unhappy with, but this is one that I have complete control over. So I tell myself, "Quit your bitching and do something already." Diets don't work and I've been on enough of them to know. Life style changes do work. I have to view this as a one meal at a time, one day at a time, one week at a time approach to the rest of my life.
It would be nice to not get winded after climbing up one flight of stairs. It would be nice to be able to wear my beautiful sexy clothes. And it would be nice to feel good about myself and the choices I make. Here's to change. Can I finally do it? I hope so. We'll see. I'll keep my blog followers updated on a weekly basis with an included weight loss progress: gasp, I will as a woman post my weight out there for all to see. This will be further motivation for me to get my shit in order.
My weight is officially out of control. Well, let's be honest, it's been out of control for months. I am that person who eats crap, delicious crap, and then complains about my weight. Fortunately I have no health problems to date that are weight related, but diabetes and heart problems do run in my family. It's like I'm playing with a loaded gun here and one of these days its going to go off.
I have a choice: keep living like this or break the cycle. Laura Kaponer-Abate is the girl who cried diet after diet after diet. There are other aspects of my life that I am unhappy with, but this is one that I have complete control over. So I tell myself, "Quit your bitching and do something already." Diets don't work and I've been on enough of them to know. Life style changes do work. I have to view this as a one meal at a time, one day at a time, one week at a time approach to the rest of my life.
It would be nice to not get winded after climbing up one flight of stairs. It would be nice to be able to wear my beautiful sexy clothes. And it would be nice to feel good about myself and the choices I make. Here's to change. Can I finally do it? I hope so. We'll see. I'll keep my blog followers updated on a weekly basis with an included weight loss progress: gasp, I will as a woman post my weight out there for all to see. This will be further motivation for me to get my shit in order.
How dare you wish me a 'Happy Easter'!
There is political correctness and then there is political correctness stick in the ass!
Political Correctness: Native Americans are NOT Indians. These are two entirely different cultures people. Some dumb explorer tripped and fell on America, pointed his finger at the locals, and declared them Indians. More than five hundred years later even though we know better (America is in fact, shock, not India) some people still refer to Cherokee, Navajo, and Iroquois people as 'Indians'.
Political Correctness: Hispanic is not the same as Spanish. Hispanic can refer to Mexicans, Puorto Ricans, Cubans, Brazilians, ect. Spanish means only one thing...people from Spain. It's the same thing as the French being from France or Japanese being from Japan. Not a particularly difficult concept here. Yet when people ask me if I am 'Spanish' and I tell them my mother's family is from Puorto Rico, they say it's the same thing. Not really.
Politically Correctness: The people who 'bombed us' is a small radical group from the Middle East. They do not by any means represent the entire nation of Islam, the entire cultures of Pakistan/India/Bangladesh. They are small when compared to the much larger group they are being compared to. That's like saying all German's are Nazi's. Not true. But I guess it's easier for people to generalize than get their facts straight.
The above statements are rooted in actual facts that are unfortunately misrepresented. What gets me are the people out there that get offended by gestures coming from a good place. I am not Christian, but I am not offended in the slightest when people say the following: God bless you, Merry Christmas, Happy Easter, or Jesus loves you. I believe people are only being kind and well meaning by saying these things, so what is there to be offended by? If someone tells me I am going to rot in hell because I have not accepted Jesus as my lord and savior, well that's something else entirely. People are too sensitive about unimportant stuff. Just say thank you or ignore these statements and move along. If I receive a Christmas Card even though I am not Christian it makes me think "Someone thought enough of me to send me this card." Not "there goes another Christian trying to shove their religion down my throat."
Get over it. Like I said there is "Political Correctness" and then there's people out there with a giant redwood shoved up their ass.
Political Correctness: Native Americans are NOT Indians. These are two entirely different cultures people. Some dumb explorer tripped and fell on America, pointed his finger at the locals, and declared them Indians. More than five hundred years later even though we know better (America is in fact, shock, not India) some people still refer to Cherokee, Navajo, and Iroquois people as 'Indians'.
Political Correctness: Hispanic is not the same as Spanish. Hispanic can refer to Mexicans, Puorto Ricans, Cubans, Brazilians, ect. Spanish means only one thing...people from Spain. It's the same thing as the French being from France or Japanese being from Japan. Not a particularly difficult concept here. Yet when people ask me if I am 'Spanish' and I tell them my mother's family is from Puorto Rico, they say it's the same thing. Not really.
Politically Correctness: The people who 'bombed us' is a small radical group from the Middle East. They do not by any means represent the entire nation of Islam, the entire cultures of Pakistan/India/Bangladesh. They are small when compared to the much larger group they are being compared to. That's like saying all German's are Nazi's. Not true. But I guess it's easier for people to generalize than get their facts straight.
The above statements are rooted in actual facts that are unfortunately misrepresented. What gets me are the people out there that get offended by gestures coming from a good place. I am not Christian, but I am not offended in the slightest when people say the following: God bless you, Merry Christmas, Happy Easter, or Jesus loves you. I believe people are only being kind and well meaning by saying these things, so what is there to be offended by? If someone tells me I am going to rot in hell because I have not accepted Jesus as my lord and savior, well that's something else entirely. People are too sensitive about unimportant stuff. Just say thank you or ignore these statements and move along. If I receive a Christmas Card even though I am not Christian it makes me think "Someone thought enough of me to send me this card." Not "there goes another Christian trying to shove their religion down my throat."
Get over it. Like I said there is "Political Correctness" and then there's people out there with a giant redwood shoved up their ass.
Rule Makers and Rule Breakers
When I was sixteen I accidentally invented the word "iggitate". My mother always proper in grammar, spelling, and format pointed out to me, "Iggitate is not a word Laura. You can be irritated or agitated, but you can not be iggitated." My reply, "That's not true Mom, you are iggitating me right now!"
From an early age I was a rebel. A surefire way to get me to do something is to tell me I can't do it. Society is so caught up on boxing people in; everyone needs to be defined and labeled and shoved into a mold. For a country whose supposed to be founded on freedom we have an awful lot of restrictions. And then all those people who don't follow the protocol are meant to feel bad about themselves because of it. Why is that? why can't people just be.
If I filled out some census stating only the facts about myself it would be something like this: female, 29 years old, married, customer service, 4 year college degree, no children, 4'11'', brown hair, brown eyes...
That's not who I am. Monday I was a compulsive, relentless, overachieving perfectionist. Tuesday I was a bitter, angry, pessimistic, volatile creature. Wednesday I was a giggly, hyper, scatter brained, ice cream craving child. Thursday I was curious, inventive, exploratory, and nail biting. Today I am not sure yet as it's only 12 p.m. I try to define myself all the time, but after 29 years I think it's a wasted effort. We're always changing, growing, learning, and reshaping who we are. I am far from a commitment phobe, but I'll be damned if I have to shove myself into something that doesn't fit me just to make others around me happy.
How do you compromise without compromising yourself? If anyone has figured out a way to break the rules without getting arrested please let me know because I am still trying to keep from falling over the balance beam.
This blog much like my life probably makes little sense. It's okay. Gina told me to write for myself. So I'll stop obsessing over who is or ISN'T leaving comments. A little less iggitation in my life.
From an early age I was a rebel. A surefire way to get me to do something is to tell me I can't do it. Society is so caught up on boxing people in; everyone needs to be defined and labeled and shoved into a mold. For a country whose supposed to be founded on freedom we have an awful lot of restrictions. And then all those people who don't follow the protocol are meant to feel bad about themselves because of it. Why is that? why can't people just be.
If I filled out some census stating only the facts about myself it would be something like this: female, 29 years old, married, customer service, 4 year college degree, no children, 4'11'', brown hair, brown eyes...
That's not who I am. Monday I was a compulsive, relentless, overachieving perfectionist. Tuesday I was a bitter, angry, pessimistic, volatile creature. Wednesday I was a giggly, hyper, scatter brained, ice cream craving child. Thursday I was curious, inventive, exploratory, and nail biting. Today I am not sure yet as it's only 12 p.m. I try to define myself all the time, but after 29 years I think it's a wasted effort. We're always changing, growing, learning, and reshaping who we are. I am far from a commitment phobe, but I'll be damned if I have to shove myself into something that doesn't fit me just to make others around me happy.
How do you compromise without compromising yourself? If anyone has figured out a way to break the rules without getting arrested please let me know because I am still trying to keep from falling over the balance beam.
This blog much like my life probably makes little sense. It's okay. Gina told me to write for myself. So I'll stop obsessing over who is or ISN'T leaving comments. A little less iggitation in my life.
The Soundtrack To My Life
Bleep bleep bleep! Cell phone alarm breaks the silence of my slumber
Thud, both bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor
Rat ta tat tat of the shower on my back
Vrurm electric toothbrush gliding across my teeth
Swish swish sliding hangers in my closet choosing my clothes
Bada bada bada skipping down the stairs to my breakfast nook
Sizzle my egg whites on the skillet
Ding! Microwave calling out to me that my oatmeal is done
Thump thump thump rabbit stomping feet as he explores the studio
BANG! shutting the door on my way into the world
Whiiiiir the wind tickles my cheek
Clicky click unlocking my car door
Er er er eeeer the roar up the engine as my car wakes up from its slumber
"This morning's traffic report brought to you by Key Bank..." the radio speaks to me
Boop boop boop garbage truck on the side of the road
In the office badaring bada-ring bada-ring the phone cries out
Wooooomf the space heater at my desk
Clickity clack clickity clack fingers hit the computer keyboard
Bada-ring bada-ring the phone cries out
Bleeeeep bleeeeep bleeeep fax machine screaming
Ding new email alert
Bada-ring bada-ring once again the phones
Dada da doom computer shuts down
eep eep forwarding the phones
clang shutting the office door at the end of my shift
"Don't stop thinking about tomorrow" radio serenades my journey home
Honnnnnk! I hesistated when the light turned green
Chirp! Chirp! Chirp! my parakeets greet me as I re-enter my house
berder der doobie da derder cell phone rings. It's Gina.
After the phone call, the tv shows, the nighttime shower, and the husbands kiss goodnight I wrap myself in the silence of my room as I drift off into my slumber.
Thud, both bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor
Rat ta tat tat of the shower on my back
Vrurm electric toothbrush gliding across my teeth
Swish swish sliding hangers in my closet choosing my clothes
Bada bada bada skipping down the stairs to my breakfast nook
Sizzle my egg whites on the skillet
Ding! Microwave calling out to me that my oatmeal is done
Thump thump thump rabbit stomping feet as he explores the studio
BANG! shutting the door on my way into the world
Whiiiiir the wind tickles my cheek
Clicky click unlocking my car door
Er er er eeeer the roar up the engine as my car wakes up from its slumber
"This morning's traffic report brought to you by Key Bank..." the radio speaks to me
Boop boop boop garbage truck on the side of the road
In the office badaring bada-ring bada-ring the phone cries out
Wooooomf the space heater at my desk
Clickity clack clickity clack fingers hit the computer keyboard
Bada-ring bada-ring the phone cries out
Bleeeeep bleeeeep bleeeep fax machine screaming
Ding new email alert
Bada-ring bada-ring once again the phones
Dada da doom computer shuts down
eep eep forwarding the phones
clang shutting the office door at the end of my shift
"Don't stop thinking about tomorrow" radio serenades my journey home
Honnnnnk! I hesistated when the light turned green
Chirp! Chirp! Chirp! my parakeets greet me as I re-enter my house
berder der doobie da derder cell phone rings. It's Gina.
After the phone call, the tv shows, the nighttime shower, and the husbands kiss goodnight I wrap myself in the silence of my room as I drift off into my slumber.
About Me
- ElbieNy25
- "Scars are proof that we were brave enough to fight the battle and strong enough to survive it"-me 2008 Unfortunately/fortunately I have many scars from life, but I'm still here. I've been writing for over twenty years and just recently finished my first manuscript entitled "The Journey". I love peopl; they fascinate me with their stories, quirks, and mysterious ways.