Stop Vomiting on Me.....

I recently had a few interactions that have left me thinking.

One friend, who thinks this blog and my observations about the people in the environment around me are mean, and I had an altercation about a comment she made. The remark itself was benign but it was the absoluteness of the criticism that upset me. As if what I find to be funny is “wrong” and I should have a different sense of humor. I do not particularly enjoy potty humor yet I would not judge one who does as immature.

I know this blog is often inane and a little catty; however people read it and the more ridiculous and mean it is the more people read it. The purpose of this blog is for me to share my unique and quirky view of the world with others and to have people READ IT. Moreover, I have at times shared myself really intimately in this blog. Those who know me well can concur I am not afraid to tell one on myself be it good bad or ugly. I have done my share of things about which if I witnessed I would blog; and get a few cocktails in me and I probably tell them proudly. I find enjoyment in people watching. I always have and I always will. I also never make fun of anyone I know without his or her permission.

Another friend has been pushing me to take an action that I repeatedly reject taking. I understand she means well. I also realize that what she is suggesting is something that worked well for her. I am simply choosing to take another course of action. One that serves me. She seems unwilling to consider that because something was right for her does not mean it is right for me.

What irritated me most that she was imposing her assessment of my situation and telling me what she wanted for me. As I said earlier, she means well; however her assertions as to how I feel are incorrect and she was indisposed to listen.

In both instances, I did not respond well; hence, I inquired into my reaction. Where they right? Why does this upset me?

For the first time in a long time I am finding my voice, learning to trust myself and being fully self-expressed. I am liberated from having to be a certain way, think a certain way and always trying to be perfect.

Are my some of my blog’s and Facebook status updates mean? Yes. Are they funny? Yes? Do you have to read them? No. Is THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT MARY potty humor yes? Have I watched it? Not in it’s entirety. Do people really enjoy it? Yes.

Do I always do the right thing? No. Do I always know what I am doing? No. Is hindsight 20/20? Yes. Do I trust myself? Yes. Do I have powerful people from whom I can seek guidance? Yes. Do I utilize those people? Yes.

Lastly, an acquaintance came up to me to tell me that every time she sees me I remind her of her dominating sister and she has let that get in the way of getting to know me. Yep. That was all she said. She did not try to create an occasion to get to know me. She pretty much seemed to want to communicate that she thinks I am like her sister. Luckily, I do not care if she thinks I am a bitch or not; however, if I did I would have walked away from the interaction feeling badly about myself while she would have walked away feeling good about herself.

So quit vomiting you opinions of what I should do or how I should be. Said another way, I, as well as the other people in your life, do not need to know every thought that fires in your brain. Said yet another way, pick your battles wisely.

I am very interested in comments about the content of the blog. The subject matter itself. Not you opinion of the niceness or appropriateness of the blog cause that ain’t gonna change.

I am reminded of the lyrics in DEFYING GRAVITY from the hit musical WICKED…..

ELPHABA
I'm through accepting limits
''cause someone says they're so
Some things I cannot change
But till I try, I'll never know!
Too long I've been afraid of
Losing love I guess I've lost
Well, if that's love
It comes at much too high a cost!
I'd sooner buy
Defying gravity
Kiss me goodbye
I'm defying gravity
And you can't pull me down:

What's Next?

Lately, I have been uninspired.

I am writing this for multiple reasons. First of all, I hope that in just typing and writing something opens up for me creatively. Secondly, I have a commitment to blog every other day and I must honor that. Thirdly, maybe the input of the readers of this blog will shake something loose.

Maybe it is less uninspired and more overwhelmed. I am in a phase of actively examining my life and creating what is next in my life.

Maybe it is less overwhelmed and more paralyzed with fear about failing. I find myself fighting the urge to create any plan or vision for my future. Each day I head to the pool with the intention of writing something, anything, about my future only to listen to the music or to waste time on mobile Facebook. I escape in reruns of Season Two of THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF NEW YORK, FRAISER and WILL AND GRACE.

My dreams and aspirations are big and a small part of me is resisting going for them. The hostile little voice in my head says things like, “that will never happen,” “you are not that good,” “You are too old to change the course now,” and “what if it doesn’t turn out and you end up worse than before?” Intellectually, I know that is just bullshit but lately I feel my familiar friend anxiety to creeping back into my life.

Usually, when this happens I will put of a happy face and hide my concerns from everyone. That habit does not serve me so I am testing something new; sharing with whoever reads this what is so in my world. I think resignation is repugnant and do not want to burden anyone with my silly self-doubt.

So if anyone has helpful advice or solutions please pipe in.

Snapshots from the Pool

I spent the weekend by the pool where so many characters crawled out of the woodwork I experienced being overwhelmed as to what to blog about.

First of all, we had a major crack issue at the pool on Saturday. A new tenant invited a few friends over two of whom, as the pictures indicate, had a problem with crack….BTW, I am pretty certain the blonde and her boyfriend were in the midst of a major relationship issue poolside. When she and Mr. Moob went for a walk her male companion declared, “I am done with her.”

Secondly, one of my favorite characters, Robert “The Not Man” made an appearance on Sunday. Lounging in the pool, I looked up to see him wearing his signature white sunglasses, swim trunks, an open button down long sleeve shirt, BLACK socks with his sandals topped off with a Kelly Green baseball cap….enough said.

Thirdly, last evening as the sun went down a new posse arrived—consisting of several adults and one kiddlet—to enjoy some time poolside. The assumed mom donned a silver Lemay swimsuit with matching silver gladiator shoes while encouraging her offspring to play with other children’s pool toys. I imagine she met her baby daddy while working the stripper pole.

Shortly after their entrance, a Tommy Lee wanna be entered the pool in grand form. Sporting a mullet a la 80’s hair bands with skinny jean cut offs and a vest…yes vest…he looked like he was more suited to rock an amphitheater rather than reside poolside. Watching him was similar to seeing a car pulled over on the side of the road—you cannot help but look. A few of the memorable moments. “I only like Rock and Roll. Anything Rock and Roll. You know Motley Crew, Ratt, Whitesnake…not Poison I hate Poison. Poison sucks.” Unable to control myself, “So really it is not so much Rock and Roll but 80’s hair bands. (Pause) you really do have a Tommy Lee and Brett Michaels look going for you.” “I hate Brett Michaels. Poison Sucks.” Okay, David Coverdale….Tawny Kitaen will not be out front dancing on your car. Sorry Jani Lane, your style of music died in the 90’s. I am reminded of Bowling for Soup’s 1985 but alas I am not certain this Kip Winger was alive then….

I have included pictures and video for you entertainment. I am all for retro but Glam Rock should be left in the past. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts.

I Used to be Different....Now I'm the Same

The other day I went on an escalator without thought.

While this might seem simple and mundane to you represents a breakthrough for me.

Those who have known me for a long time, or those who know me well, are aware that I have certain irrational and inexplicable phobias.

I am terrified of escalators to the point where I will wait for the elevator or walk up steps.

I hate crossing bridges and overpasses where traffic is zooming by underneath. For those of you who live in Chicago, I would walk to long route to get the North Avenue Beach avoiding crossing over Lakeshore Drive. For those in OC, I would take the bus to the South Coast Plaza (about a mile from my house) to steer clear of walking over the 405 on Bristol.

I used to text my roommate on my bus ride to work to double check if I turned of the iron…and it did not even matter if I had ironed that day.

And many more…

All of which make me neurotic at best and anxious at worst.

Yet, last Sunday without white knuckles and deep breaths, or even any thought, I went on an escalator…multiple times.

What’s more is I have traversed the 405 overpass on Bristol three times this week.

I wish I could say that I had some big insight or rationality crept in; however, I am pretty sure it is the Prozac. I remember in January preparing to get on an escalator at a Whole Foods in Chicago. I was having lunch with my friend Gail the day after I decided that when I returned to OC I would medicate. As I prepared myself I remember thinking, “I cannot wait till the drug takes effect so I can function like everyone else.”

I think it would be helpful if people shared their phobias. The ones you are ashamed of and try to hide.

A Little Creativity Please

Last Night, I dined with some friends at The Cheesecake Factory. Having only been to said establishment a handful of times I am always in awe of their 300-page menu; hence, I study it like I would a Van Gogh painting. Yesterday as my eyes scanned from page to page absorbing all the items the phrase, “Weight Management Grilled Chicken” caught my eye the way the yellow tints in Starry Night would.

Why would I notice this?

A number or reasons…

First of all, I am willing to bet that the majority of people who dine at The Cheesecake Factory, a restaurant themed and named for a extremely fattening desert, are not interested in ordering anything weight management. Not to say they are not concerned in said management but that commitment usually goes by the wayside when one enters such an establishment the way, for some, the definition of faithfulness goes by the wayside when they enter a strip club.

For those who adhere to their diet in such and place are savvy enough to find the friendly foods on the menu. In other words they can discern that the Grilled Chicken Breast with Broccoli has a lower calorie count than say the items of the Hamburger page. I don’t think they need the menu to inform them what the smarter choice is.

Thirdly, the very phrase “Weight Management” should never appear on a menu. It does to ones appetite what the phrase, “time of the month” does to a man’s libido. That’s right. Bye bye. And for sure it would kill off any chance of ordering desert.

I’d like the “Weight Management Grilled Chicken Breast and a Chocolate Chip Cheesecake?”

Upon further examination of the menu, we located the “Weight Management Salads” which apparently does not include all, or even the majority, of salads they serve.

It came time to order and one friend chose the “Weight Management Pear Salad” because it sounded good while my other friend and I split the Chicken Marsalla. When our food came the waitress delivered a trough of salad big enough to feed a small village. We decided the real weight management lied in the portion control of a split entrée.

You might be wondering what’s my point. I have a few.

People at The Cheesecake Factory please find something more creative than “Weight Management ________” For example; today I was eating “Reduced Guilt” wheat crackers from Trader Joe’s. I, in general, am much more interested in “reducing guilt” than I am in “weight management.” Even Applebee’s makes their low calorie items sound more desirable.

Everyone, consider portion control when exercising weight management. Split entrees, take home leftovers, skip desert. Eat smart.

Expanding my Vocabulary

Recently I discovered an underutilized word in my personal lexicon. Now I cannot imagine life without it. When someone calls me and asks me to do something that will serve neither me nor anyone in my circle I employ this word. When someone thinks I will settle for less than I deserve I say this word.

Most likely it was one of the first words I ever learned, it is a super simple two-letter word, which might be one of the most powerful words in the any language.

N-O. No.

No, sorry I can’t.
No, sorry I won’t.
Sometimes just, “No.”

Stemming from discerning the newfound distinction of boundaries, I am developing a growing facility using the word no. Instead of accommodating, avoiding and appeasing my tongue finds its way to the roof of my mouth “N” followed by my lips rounding “O”
Not, “let me think about it and I’ll get back to you.” Then fretting how to decline. The letters form and the word pops out of my mouth.

More than just not being burdened and resentful, I am liberated every time I say it. Quite often I think the decisiveness, quickness and bluntness shocks the requestor.

I assert most people are afraid to say no without feigned regret and contrived explanations. Just no. If I simply, and politely, reject your request the conversation is closed. The delivery musty contain the subtext, “I am not open to a discussion or a negotiation.”

Everyday my limits get clearer and more obvious. I must care for myself and the people in my circle. By doing that I am able to focus on making a difference with those closest to me which will improve the quality of life for those around them and so on and so forth. For example, I am taking a course with a good friend whom asked me to dog sit. I said yes as she and her husband are my friends. Knowing the puppies are being well cared for they can tend to themselves this weekend ; which will in turn impact every person they encounter from hotel staff to parking attendants. That said, if another random person in the course heard I dog sit and asked me to take care of her pet I would say no as he/she is not in my circle.

For many men this is like, duh! Yet, the few women I have told about setting boundaries are blown away at the fact that they are not obliged to take care of every person, breakdown and issue.

I am hoping this topic will spark a conversation as it flies directly into the face of how many people look at the world, their roles and their obligations. I am interested to hear from you.

In the meantime, practice. No. N-O. No.


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The Wrong Situation? How Would you Know?

Last week I was talking to a friend who had recently ended an unworkable relationship. After a long time of trying to fix it came time to admit that it was like trying to put a round peg into a square whole. Though she cognitively knew it was for the best she couldn’t help but wade to the pool of indulgence that we are drawn to from time to time. When one is wading in that lake they are fraught with questions such as, “What is wrong with me that __________?”

Being someone who has been known to wade—as well as swim and soak—in that puddle, I was able to share the most impactful coaching I have ever received regarding relationships. It could be that you dated the wrong person and how would you know if you dated the wrong person?

She began to answer me with all the symptoms of an unworkable relationships: diminished sex life, arguments, lack of intimacy and communication.

She was answering how do you know that your relationship isn’t working.

Ask yourself, how do you know if you dated the wrong person?

I have dated, aligned myself with, engaged with and the like with many the wrong person. Sometimes I was smart enough to know it was never ever going to develop into anything more than what it was. Other times I spent a months—even years—working on, surviving and trying to fix relationships with the wrong men.

How do you know you dated the wrong person? You would have to date them.

The only way to know if you dated the wrong person is to actually date the wrong person. Otherwise you wouldn’t know with all certainty that they are the inappropriate individuals. Without dating the unsuitable suitor you limit the opportunities to court the correct character.

In 2007, when I grasped this concept a whole new world opened up for me. No longer did I wonder what was wrong with me? Why not me? Why did I stay in an unworkable situation for so long? I was no longer a failure at relationships or selecting appropriate people. Moreover, all those character weakness—exhibited by men—were no longer used as a personality indictment. Resentment melted away making way for completion, and in some cases affinity. Suddenly, there was nothing wrong with me and there was nothing wrong with them. I just dated the incorrect men.

Now in 2010, I am not longer interested in wading, swimming or soaking in the pool of indulgence for any past mistake or failure. I am responsible for doing and participating in the wrong things. Instead of being resentful I am appreciative. Every person and every encounter has contributed to my journey in life.

Without the wrong relationship, friend or job how would I know what is right for me?

Finally at 35, I have clear view on right (for me) versus wrong (for me), workable versus unworkable. I am unwilling to waste one more minute engaging in those events that do not serve, provide and nurture me; likewise, I will not waste time with those high cost, positional drama lovers. Heretofore, I have become a master at tolerating and powering through Bull Shit to produce a result. I do not want the next 35 years of my life to be filled with questions such as, “What the hell was I thinking?” “Why did I think that was okay?”

I am blessed to be surrounded by some of the most amazing people on the planet; moreover, I am blessed that they think I am extraordinary. I trust their input, direction and guidance. I no longer associate with the wrong people and activities but not out of elitism. I am certain they are the right people and situations for someone else.

It could be that you dated the wrong person, had the wrong friends, worked the wrong job but how would you know? That’s right you would have to participate in life and be willing to make mistakes. Consider it a game that will contribute to the ever-evolving human being you are.

For those of you in and around the pool of indulgence I invite you to forgive yourself and the person or situation.

I request you share what you think about this blog.

Ride it Frodo....

The other night, while out with the Village People, we had a discussion about which action movie theme song would make for a good lap dance. Admittedly, I have no working knowledge of lap dances or strip club but it was an entertaining exercise in imagination.

The first one we pondered was Batman. The Catwoman is the obvious choice; however, as Robin is seemingly effeminate nothing says one cannot take creative license and have some uber sexy vixen saying to her patron, “Holy Smokes Batman.”

Batman to Robin: "When you get a little older, you'll see how easy it is to become lured by the female of the species."

http://www.televisiontunes.com/Batman_-_1966_TV.html



For those who enjoy leather and whips and the like another possibility is from the Indiana Jones franchise.

Indiana: Here, take this,
[hands Marion a torch]
Indiana: Wave it at anything that slithers.
Marion: The whole place is slitherin'!

http://www.televisiontunes.com/Indiana_Jones.html

My favorite was the theme song from Mission Impossible. DooDoDo. To the left. DooDoDo. To the right. DeDeDe full on grind while pretending to point a gun. Which brings to mind, what costume would be appropriate. Would you go vintage or remake? One could go real high budget and employ tech such as suspending from the ceiling or pyro.

Ethan Hunt: You turned around.
Nyah Nordoff-Hall: What are you going to do? Spank me?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtyByefOvgQ

Followed by Star Wars…the act would be called Star Whores. A performance to make John Williams musical contribution appreciated by the masses. Princess Leah or the other one? Or maybe Storm Troopers who strip? All things being equal it could Hans Solo and Luke Skywalker with a light saber serving as a pole. The Droids are an option too. Science Fiction geeks all over the world would line up for a lap dance from C3PO and R2D2. I advise staying away from Yoda. Nothing sexy about Yoda.

Darth Vader: I sense something; a presence I've not felt since...

http://www.televisiontunes.com/Star_Wars_-_Main_Theme.html


In honor of the International Mr. Leather Convention (IML) this past weekend in Chicago, I would like to introduce Lord of the Cock Rings. I think it is best if I do not elaborate about this so you will have to employ your imagination.

Galadriel: The one ring to rule them all.

http://www.bing.com/videos/watch/video/lord-of-the-rings-theme-song/f4d33e3b88e3b8ad967cf4d33e3b88e3b8ad967c-55876453604


Seemingly inane, the idea still rolls around my mind days later. I find myself “singing” the Mission Impossible theme song and giggling. In writing this I hope it brings amusement. Maybe at the thought that this was actually a topic of conversation? Perhaps at the notion that out of all the impactful conversations I have had recently this is the one that sticks? Maybe because I chose to share it with you? Whatever the reason, I like to imagine that the absurdity of this post causes you lips to turn up and your eyes twinkle. Let me know what you think?