Pinterest Takes Over

June is over. There's like, 24 minutes left of it and I've only posted thrice in the month. That's not normal. I like to talk. I like to blog. I just have so much I want to say but when it comes time to sit down and say it- I can't think of anything. I need to start writing stuff down.

So instead of anything interesting or clever, I'll just post some of my favorite pins from Pinterest

You're welcome. Have a good laugh and a nice day.

My Life Plan

My friend and I were discussing my life today at work- and how I'm giving up (again) on everything. I've decided to become a crazy cat lady- only... I don't want cats. So I'd be a crazy cat-less lady... or in most circles, I'd just be a crazy lady.  She suggested I should wear a cape. I thought a tinfoil one would be appropriate- but when she suggested a crocheted cape- my life changed. I could see my future unfolding before me.

When I was a teenager, someone gave me a book called As the Ward Turns by Joni Hilton. I can't remember who gave it to me- or why (I'm not generally one to read religious fiction [my exceptions are the Work and the Glory series, Children of the Promise {which are both more historical fiction} and the Tennis Shoes Among the Nephites series {which is pure awesome ridiculousness}]) but I read it and thought it was one of the funniest books I've ever read.

There is a character in the book- I can't even remember her name- but... well, let me tell you about her.

She was an old lady that no one in the neighborhood really knew. The house that she lived in- she built herself with particle board and a glue gun. Everything in the house is covered in something crocheted. The carpets, the couches, the tables- everything was draped with a doily or blanket or something crocheted. Even her cat- who she talked to and scolded when he tried to piddle on the rug- was crocheted.

This, dear readers, is who I'm going to start modeling my life after. I'm going to be the crazy crochet lady. I'm not crafty enough to build my house out of particle board so I'll have to settle for a regular ol residence... but I can learn how to crochet! And I can totally collect crocheted critters (why limit it to just cats?)

Actually, now that I think about it... I tried crocheting once and it didn't work out so well. Sigh... back to the drawing board...

And before we conclude this I'm-totally-bored-at-work-so-just-humor-me blog post, will you PLEASE look at that second paragraph and take a minute to admire the parenthetical conversation I had with myself.  ADMIRE IT!!!

Sticks and Stones

One of the biggest lies I was ever taught as a kid was

Sticks and stones will break my bones
but words will never hurt me.

Two words:

Bull. Shit.

Cuts and bruises heal. Sure, there may be scars (literally and metaphorically)- but they heal and the pain goes away. The poison from words can last forever and create a wound that is damn near impossible to heal.

When I was in Jr High, there was a fire drill. We all headed outside to the football field and waited for the all clear bell. I was no tiny thing- even then- but when the bell rang and we all went back in, a bunch of the big 9th grade boys got overly rambunctious and created a jam at the door. Somehow I got trapped in the middle of it and when the dam of teenage bodies broke, I was shoved through the door, my wrist was caught on the push bar and torn open, I lost a shoe, was pushed over and trampled. Yes, it was as bad as it sounds. In shock, I went to the office and showed them my wrist and ask for a bandaid. It was torn open enough that you could see the vein. one bazillionth of a millimeter more and it would have opened the vein too. They called my mom, hauled me to a doctor and for the first and only time in my life, I got stitches.

That scar is still there. I remember the incident like it was yesterday. I was wearing purple stretch pants and a purple and white striped shirt. The shoes that were ripped off were white canvas Keds. But it doesn't hurt any more. I learned lessons from it. I remember it. But I don't feel it. That was more than 20 years ago.

About 15 years ago someone said something to me that was so mean. So hurtful. And here, 15 years later it still aches in my heart every time I repeat his words in my head. About six years ago, a different someone said some equally hurtful words and what's stupid is that I'm sure he actually meant them as a compliment... but it was so mean. Then shortly after that- within a year or so- two different people said similar things that were also extraordinarily painful.

I've talked about this before on here. I know I have because I've gone back and re-read some of those posts recently (remember, I blog stalk myself more than anyone else) and I've really been thinking about it the last few days... weeks... months... (yes, even during this time when I've been so cheerful that I give sugar a toothache).

First there is DH's and EK's words- "You're a lot to get used to" and "it's really not worth the hassle." That one isn't quite as painful- because they were both just freaking idiots that were only in my life for a flea's wink- but that doesn't mean the words didn't hit their mark.

So many times when I look in a mirror I hear RW's voice saying, "I wish I could take your personality and put it in a more attractive body," and I die a little.

But the granddaddy of them all- is DE saying "You're the kind of girl guys are just friends with- not the kind they date." I can't even read/write/say/think this sentence without an anguish in my heart that radiates to my fingertips. Every. Time. Quite literally.

I think I give these words power because I've yet to be able to prove them wrong. Over the last 15 years they've rung true.

But seriously, how do you do it? How do you un-hear words? How do you remove the venom? I realize I'm the one giving the words their potency. I know. Don't lecture me on that. But how do you suck out the poison and not let them affect you? I honestly don't know how. Trust me- if I knew I would have done it long ago.

By the way- the initials of these men were not changed to protect the innocent- because they are not innocent. They are guilty of causing me the worst pain of my entire life. Only one of them is still in my life- and very, very minimally. He has no clue he's even a part of this elite group.

The Worst Best Friend in the World

And the prize goes to.....

ME!

I have been so absolutely self absorbed lately that I completely forgot my best friend's birthday. It's today.

Jessica and I have been friends for... um... like... 7...8...10... years? I don't even know. We met in college. We had classes back to back and we always ended up sitting together, then walking to class together. It was seriously Instant Friends- add water and stir.

Things that I love best about her:

• Her big, beautiful smile (You can't help but smile when she smiles- it's contagious!)
• Her eyes (Seriously, she is one of the most beautiful people I've ever met- and she's MY friend!)
• Her nerdiness (She gets me. She obsesses as much as [sometimes MORE than] I do)
• Her love for awesome words (I get to use my vocabulary around her and she uses words that even I don't know sometimes. I have to use a dictionary when we converse)
• Her writing skills (She is a fantastic wordsmith!!! She puts my writing to shame. Her descriptions of things are so lifelike it's easy for the reader to be in the scene)
• Her unabashed love for her husband and daughter (Seriously, after as many years as they've been married, she still talks about him like they're dating.- still so irritatingly twitterpated. I hope I get to do that someday)
• Her fantastic advice (I may not always heed it [to her dismay], but it's always very sound)
• Her willingness to put up with my teenager-y silliness (she's the first person I go to when I need boy advice. Honestly, she should get a prize for her patience. I can't even tell you all the anxiety attacks I've unloaded on her over the years)
• Her makeup tips (Eye shadow? Lipstick? yup- all due to her)
• Her all-round awesomeness! 

Happy Birthday, Bestie!!