Thursday, January 26, 2012

something i stumbled upon...

I stumbled across this earlier today and I had to share this with all of you because i wholeheartedly believe it to be true...

People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.

When you know which one it is, you will know what to do for that person...

When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed.

They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually.

They may seem like a godsend and they are.

They are there for the reason you need them to be.

Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end.

Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away.

Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand.

What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled, their work is done.

The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.

Some people come into your life for a SEASON, because your turn has come to share, grow or learn.

They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh.

They may teach you something you have never done.

They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.

Believe it, it is real. But only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons, things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.

Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.

It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant..

Thank you for being a part of my life, whether you were a reason, a season or a lifetime.

~ Author Unknown

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

superstitious but i don't care

i am a superstitious person, maybe sometimes to a fault. i often say "god forbid", "god forgive me", "knock on wood", while i actually knock on wood. spilt salt will be thrown over the correct shoulder, i try to not say bad or mean things about peoples kids because if i have kids some day i don't want anything bad or mean, or ugly to be said about them. i try really hard to be a fucking duck and let things that are insignificant roll off me; but shit, sometimes, that pile of shit that you just swallow doesn't work, it makes it worse for you. yesterday and today is one of those days- luckily for you, especially Jenski, you enjoy the insignificant random rants. i'm sorry for those i offend, and i'm sorry for those that find these posts mean. *correction, i'm not fucking sorry, some people truly suck, and they should really know; maybe one day i'll have the pleasure of letting them in the secret.

a woman i work with, ugh, we'll call her elephant ass, (thanks for the nickname *karen), sits so inappropriately at work, it grosses me out. i can live with that. she turns the chair around with her legs spread open, you know what i'm talking about, and then she lets her saggy-ass breasts hang over the front of the chair. but that's not the worst part, like i said this is just inappropriate in my eyes, miss fucking-prim that i am. i handed something to her the other day and her response to me was, "now, that's a good little girl". it took all my strength not to lunge at her and choke the fuck out of her. she's lucky that she was with a group of kids and i turned my ass around and walk out of that class. no one, not even my mom talks to me like that. she constantly asks stupid questions, which isn't actually the worst part, what makes it worse is that she asks them 95% of the time when i am dealing with a kid in crisis, or in a situation, and they are insignificant questions, like "where is ms. so-and-so's class?" as though i'm her fucking keeper, or "have you seen the picture of my magnificently rich, doctor son?" go the fuck away. all these things separately mean nothing, but together, they add up to a whole lot of an annoying human being. she irks me. she's insignificant, but i can't get rid of her. she asks all the time, "do you like me?" what are we, 15? who gives a shit if i like you? and the answer is no! shut the fuck up, no! go away! i don't like you. you're annoying. and the next time you call me "little girl" i'm gonna show you how little i'm not.

moving on...

now on to your fucking children. calling all people out there with children. your life does not mean more than mine because you are a parent. it holds no more value than mine because you are a parent. you are not a better fucking person because you have chosen to procreate and your time is not worth more than mine because you have been unsuccessful in keeping your legs together, that was a choice you made. whether you made that choice mindfully or not, it was nevertheless a choice. i have friends who have children who do not act this way in which i am describing, they do not pretend that i am a lesser human because i have chosen to not procreate. they have not made me feel as though my money is not being "invested wisely" because i am choosing to go on vacations, and buy shoes, and clothes.

i also have friends that often offer their unsolicited advice on child rearing, and ovulation. they often remind me of my age, (thanks asshole, i'm fully capable of computing the math, i'll be 31 this march fyi), dude, i'm a fucking teacher; i've studied child development. i have cousins, godchildren, i have been around babies, just because i haven't pushed one out my dime sized hole doesn't mean i don't know what the fuck to do with them when i'm around them. the same goes for the reverse; just because you've pushed one out of your dime sized hole doesn't mean you know what the fuck you're doing either.

now on to your ugly children. i find most newborn babies to be unattractive. i'm sorry. god forgive me. i wish it weren't true. but i have seen few newborns that i thought, "wow! that's a cute baby" it just doesn't happen for me. eventually though, they turn cute. but not all babies are cute, not all kids are cute, just like not all adults are cute or good looking. lets be fair here. someone has to be unattractive. i'm just being honest. i have seen some ugly babies and children. i would never tell a parent that their kid is dumb, just like i would never tell a friend or family member their kid is ugly, but let's face it, they can't all be beauty-queens. for all i know, if i ever do have kids, i might have some ugly ass kids, i hope that i will see beyond the ugly and only see beauty, but i doubt it. i might have to tell my kids, "well little rapunzel, you're not easy on the eyes, but at least you're not stupid!"

hell in a hand basket i tell you, hell in a hand basket. the devils been awaiting for me... i'm not too worried, i'm sure i'll have plenty of good company. to be perfectly honest, i'd rather get it out than keep it inside. that shit pile builds up, and just chokes me, i'm good to those who deserve it, who earn it,  and those who don't, well... they are just insignificant.

Friday, January 20, 2012

rapunzel inquisition

i don't know what prompted this... it just came out and none of it makes any sense at all...
  • ask me why i like being left alone? because i like the sound of silence. because even though the thoughts in my head drive me crazy and make me sad, or angry, they are way less annoying to me then most actual human beings. they also make me smile, and laugh and happy. i think this is when being an only child really shines through. 
  • ask me why i like when my husband isn't home? because shit gets fucking done; vacuuming, dusting, shit gets put away, laundry, dishes, plants get watered, music gets heard and the television isn't put on for hours at a time. the time he's gone allows me moments to miss him. when he is here all the time, i never miss him. that may sound silly to some, but for me, i need that time, without it, i begin to get angry and resentful. 
  • ask me why i hate being asked the same question 3 times? because for some reason, by the 3rd time you've just annoyed me enough to be angry with you. once is enough, especially if you are asking me the infamous, "whats wrong?" i don't have that answer. i've never had that answer in my entire life, why at almost 31 years old would i suddenly have that fucking god-forsaken answer. no, i cannot pinpoint what is exactly wrong. i can pretty much tell you that my first answer will be tired though, and that's 99% truth, i am almost always tried in some way shape or form. so before you ask, once, twice, prepare for an aggravated answer the 3rd time, and yes, i am tired. 
  • ask me why i like food? because i am a fat kid at heart. i like cooking but i prefer someone else do it. if your food sucks, i'd rather starve. i love eating out, at amazingly delicious restaurants, simple meals are the best. nothing need be fancy to make me clap my hands in complete satisfaction at a table. 
  • ask me which would i prefer, sleep or a good book? sleep all the way, i'd rather sleep the day away. i've done it, i'm not afraid to admit it either on numerous occasions. just the other night, (accidentally, i swear it), i took a sleeping pill at 6:30am thinking it was 2:30am. i woke up at 11am when my mom called. i told her of my mistake, we laughed at my mistake, i got up for a little while and went back to bed around 2ish. 
  • ask me why i would chose to lie than to tell the truth? because sometimes a little white lie, or a fib to keep from hurting someones feelings is better than the good old honest truth, that could really tear their heart out for what? nothing. 
  • ask me why i get tattoos? because there's a special something about decorating my skin with art that i hold meaningful to me, that every time i look at it, it reminds me of what is important to me and only me. 
  • ask me why i don't have children? because it is a choice that for now, my mind, heart, body and soul are not in agreement on; maybe one day they will be, maybe one day they won't, as of now, they aren't, so mind your own house. 
  • ask me whatever you want... most of the time i'll give you the truth as long as it doesn't hurt. 

you know why you can ask me? because i am such a naturally inquisitive person, i question everything, all the time, that i don't mind when people ask me, anything. just ask, once. once is all it'll take. maybe twice. if i don't want to answer, i won't, but walk away and don't ask a third time, please. don't be nervous if i start to cry, or laugh, i get anxious, so you relax. let me tell you everything all at once and nothing at all.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

July 15, 1991

"dear rapunzel,

hi! how are you? you might not remember me but this is your cousin 'nancy' writing to you. i came up from Florida a couple of years ago. i got your address from your aunt. they came from Orlando, fl. to visit. you probably know they were down here for vacation. anyway, she suggested that you and me be pen pals. i think it's a great idea. if you do, here's my address:

please write back!

i heard you went to California. you are so lucky! what is it like? was it fun? where in California did you go? i heard you also broke your leg there. how? well, i have to go now. i hope we can be pen pals. bye!

your cousin,


see ya!

p.s. we might come up for Christmas vacation."

there are a some awesome things about this:

  1. we were 10.
  2. i still have this.
  3. i can almost guarantee that i didn't write Nancy back.
  4.  Nancy has absolutely no recollection of writing this pen pal letter. i know, because i showed it to her recently. 
  5. was i really all that lucky to go to California and break my fucking leg? 
  6. Nancy literally just returned from California and i can guarantee she had a better time on her trip 20 years later than i did my first time around. 
  7. she didn't come for Christmas vacation, but she did end up moving here in 2003. 
  8. how much fun could i have possibly had with a fucking hip cast in July on vacation in California? not that much! i promise, the 2 nights in the hospital and the surgery were my least favorite moments, as were the lame 4th of July fireworks, trust me. the jumping to the front of the line at disneyland, sea world and theme parks due to the wheelchair was kinda cool though. 
  9. i did remember her, but i obviously didn't care because like #3 says, i can almost guarantee, i didn't write her back and, 
  10. i'm glad we didn't write, it might've ruined our actual friendship once she moved up here.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

daddy's lil' girl

i'll always be daddy's lil' girl. today i had the pleasure of celebrating my daddy's birthday, giving him a kiss, a hug, singing and helping him blow out his candles. any birthday; his or my own, that i get to celebrate with him is a happy day or moment.

some aren't as lucky as me. i almost wasn't as lucky as me. my dad has had a bunch of accidents, and i've even called him "superman" a few times. if you know him, you'd know why. here's just a hint- 2 broken necks in a lifetime is just a small start. i'll always be a daddy's lil' girl, and i'm happy to help him blow out his candles.

cheers to many more birthdays daddy, i look forward to them all.

young ladies don't behave that way...

i'm a firm believer that there's no such thing as "normal" when it comes to family, and if there were such a thing, mine wasn't the model for it. although i am the only child from my parents, i have 2 cousins that are like sisters to me. we grew up together, but have different parents so we grew up with different sets of rules, freedoms, strangeness and dysfunctions.

i grew up in an interesting household. it wasn't weird, it was just different. i didn't know, obviously, that it was different until i went to college and was doing things on my own. then i met more and more people and figured out that as dysfunctional, and strange and different as my family life all was, everyones' family was also pretty strange, different and dysfunctional.  i grew up with a lot of rules as compared to most of my friends and a lot of freedoms that others did not have. i didn't think much of the rules or the freedoms until my friends started to point some of them out to me. the rules/freedoms such as:

  • you can't sleep at a friends house, even if i know their parent's because what if god forbid their house burns down and you are inside- this seems ridiculous but i actually had a friend in high school whose aunt died that way as a teenager-
  • you call EVERY TIME you change a location when you are out; ie: if i was at Cassy's house and we walked a block to Carolyne's i needed to call
  • you call EVERY TIME plans change and you are going to be out later than normal, however, it must be no later than 9pm, i'm supposed to be home by 11, so if everyone wanted to go disco bowling at midnight,  i needed to make sure i called by 9 to tell my mom i'd be home by 2am, otherwise, i wasn't going. 
  • at 13 i was allowed to take the subway into the city by myself to go shopping
  • my mom/dad never went into my room for any reason other than to wake me if i had over slept or to check up on me if i were sick; no "snooping" or looking around was ever done, no cleaning of any kind was ever performed after the age of 12.
  • no one can drive you home; take the bus or walk, or call your father
  • there is a pay phone on every corner in nyc, there's no reason you can't call when i page you within 5 minutes. (remember pagers?!)
  • girls don't fart, curse, spit or sit on a boys lap- usually all those things were followed by the phrase: "what do you think you're in a park?" 
  • you don't talk back to your parents, you don't argue with your parents, and children (which no matter how old you are, you're always my child), are to be seen, not heard. 
  • no drinking underage
  • no drugs
  • if you are ever anywhere that you don't think you should be, leave
  • if you are doing something that your mother wouldn't be proud of you for doing, don't do it*
  • you don't have to do anything you don't ever want to do- unless your mother says so
  • your mother is your mother, your friends are your friends, don't mix the two; ignorance is bliss, don't over share, but don't keep the truth from her.
there are more but those are pretty "strange" according to most of my friends. i don't think any of them are pretty strange, but that's just how i grew up. the * is there because my mom pretty much did nothing, so anything that i might have wanted to do she would have most likely not have been proud of *.

this is all is being brought up because this Christmas we were visited by my mom's cousins. I love when they visit- they are a hoot! a fucking riot! i knew that my grandma, and her 2 sisters were pretty far out there when it came to "unlady-like" behavior, but they never really acted that way in public, or around men. they always kinda kept it to themselves. and you were never allowed to repeat it or anything like that. which is why i always found it interesting that my mom was so "straight laced" and taught me to be "so straight laced" - (we all see how well that worked).

anyway. my mom, her sister and their cousin grew up together. my mom, doesn't swear, but will be pretty foul mouthed when she deems it necessary, my aunt, is kinda in the middle and their cousin, really to be perfectly honest doesn't give a fuck. but, they get along like 3 peas in a pod; kinda like my grandma and her 2 sisters.

my moms' cousins' daughters were there and they are around my age, and i love hanging out with them. they tell some funny stories, and they curse, and drink and are pretty far out there, but it doesn't phase anyone. so, everyone is telling a story, and they are all just tossing around the word twat. i couldn't believe it. i grabbed my older "sisters" leg as soon as i heard it, and looked over at mom for a response. nothing. then they all starting using it, "twat", "twat", "twat". my jaw might have literally, hit the table.

everyone left, Christmas was over, as was story time and i was still in some kinda of shock. i have a sailors mouth, and i do participate in some stupid, crazy, "unlady-like" behaviors that my mother would not be all that proud of, but i just couldn't believe what just went on for a few hours. don't get me wrong, i loved it, it was just a little odd.

when we were celebrating for new years, i voiced my little bit of shock and awe of the comfort and unlady-like behaviors i witnessed at Christmas. my mom and aunt, laughed and said, it was normal, and that's just how things were when they were growing up. it just wasn't how things were when we were growing up.

i'm almost 31 years old, the worst word i've ever used in front of my mother was cunt, i was 9, and that was because i didn't know what it was, i heard it in a movie and i got smacked so hard in the mouth for using it, and was told never to use it again. (i love that word; rolls right off the tongue like slut). i don't swear in front of my mother, and i rarely ever talk about any drinking, nor do i barely act in a manner that can be considered "unlady-like" in front of her. but man, oh man, if i could... i'd be dead, she'd kill me. 

Sunday, January 8, 2012

the yogi that was not.

thank you dad for buying me the month of unlimited yoga classes, especially since i had mentioned that i felt that needed to get back into taking yoga/meditation to relax, decompress and unwind. i'm uptight, i don't want the stresses of the world to weigh me down. i want to use the philosophy of yoga to help me concentrate, recenter myself, realign my thoughts and just re-lax. so, my wonderful father who attends yoga classes bought a months unlimited yoga pass to the studio that he attends. he raves about it. he enjoys it. which makes me happy.

he called last night and asked if i would go with him to a 10am class this morning. i agreed. i love spending time with my dad. i had already taken yoga classes, i had also studied yoga as a part of religion classes, i understood/understand its purposes. i am not looking for an aerobic yoga session. i had explained this to my dad prior to his invitation to the class, but i had to try a different studio and class at some point. so dad arrived promptly at 9 this sunday morning for our 10 am HOT yoga class.

the heat didn't bother me, however, if i am that hot again, i should be on the beach somewhere facing an ocean, not staring at some sweaty persons ass. the instructor, very polite woman, kept raising the volume of the music in the class as if it were an aerobic class, therefore distracting me from my breathing, form, and centering of myself, that bothered me, slightly. she also, didn't seem to correct anyones' form, modify anyones' positions, or make suggestions as to how one would go about modifying anyones' positions.

luckily (for me), i am familiar with poses and moves, so, even all of this didn't bother me that much. what did bother me was, there was no time given in between each move to concentrate and be sure i (or any other beginner), was stable, ready to continue with the move/pose. i'm trying to work on the breathing and pose and shes already 2 poses down the line. that's not her fault, its how she runs her class. at one point i looked around the room and at least 5 out of 14 people had poor posture, weren't breathing in the fashion in which i was taught and the way i knew that yoga promotes you to be breathing, and the form was all over the place.

i began to get nauseous, i started to remind myself to go at my own pace and focus on my own breath. something my friend Michelle, a hard working, full time practicing yogi would say. every time i would refocus and go at my own pace i was 3 poses behind everyone else. i became more nauseous. i started to get a migraine. i stopped, drank water, rested. it wasn't the positions that were difficult, those weren't the problem, the heat, again, became fine after a while, i just felt so sick, i thought i was going to throw up.

i thought i was going to have to run out of the room. but the instructor told us at the beginning of the class not to ever leave the room, because they gradually heat the room up and gradually cool down the room, otherwise you can get really sick. so here i am, sick as a dog, migraine, ready to vomit, thinking, which is worse, throwing up in here, or running out into the cooled hallway perhaps fainting and being 'that' girl! i sat down again, focused on breathing, thought of Michelle and told myself to calm down. it's hard to calm down when you are so sick, and you can't breath because it's 100 fucking degrees and you 're going to vomit and you have a migraine where you feel like your eye balls might just explode out of your head. i waited, until finally the class was over.

i ran out, washed my face, drank more water, which wasn't a good idea, and couldn't wait to get home. i've been in bed ever since. well, first i showered because i was covered in sweat and grossness, then i took a migraine pill, had some coffee, food and more water.

needless to say, i will not attend hot yoga again, and not because it was hot, but because i am not interested in getting my heart rate up while doing yoga, i'm interested in getting my mind, body and spirit a little more centered and refocused. my poor dad though, he keep telling me "major failure huh?". which it wasn't. you don't know unless you try, right, but with that said, i had done a considerable amount of reading on hot yoga and had determined that it wasn't what i was looking for. i did get to spend a sunday morning with my dad, so with the bad came some good, which is always nice; balances out the universe.

a yogi i was not today. and for the record i didn't actually throw up in the yoga studio. although, if i did it would have been a tough choice between puking on my dad or on one of the super lame hipsters in the class with the "OM" tattoo's; i'm pretty sure i was going for a hipster with a "OM" symbol tattoo.

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

bundled up & scared to sleep

holy shit it is so cold, i have been wearing socks and a hat in the house for days and still can't warm up. that's not even the worst part... i had a dream the other night that i couldn't go to the bathroom out of my normal orifice instead i had to defecate out of my mouth... disgusting! i'm afraid to decode this dream. (please no one try)

with break being over it is always a difficult task to get back into the swing of things. i can't seem to get enough sleep. i am so tired and want to do nothing but sleep. however, with the new dreaming additions of oral shitting i am suddenly afraid to sleep and muss the sheets.

on a better note, the bffl's might make an appearance soonly. they'll warm me up. <insert happy moment here>

Sunday, January 1, 2012

you say you want a resolution.

i've been in a rut. it's been partly my own fault. i've allowed people around me to take charge in hopes that they would take care of things forgetting that if i want things to get done, then i have to take the initiative to help myself. i did a lot of complaining and whining and not understand where i was going wrong. i don't make resolutions, instead i try to figure out where i made a wrong turn and fix it, learn from it.

we are packing our bags and making shit happen. we booked our second trip for 2012. we are officially going places. no joke. i'm looking for more inexpensive flights to visit my friends and people that are not insignificant and i hope they too can find it in their hearts, and bank accounts to come and see me too.

i woke up after about 6 hours of sleep this fine new years morning and immediately had this urge to clean house. it wasn't just the need to clean house of filth, and decorations i've been staring at since the beginning of december. i'm not just cleaning me up, my mind up, my life up, my marriage up, but all that is around me up. i say a lot of shit about how i'm not going to take a lot of peoples shit, but unfortunately i do take a lot of other peoples shit, and i let them shit on me. fuck that. i'm over it. i've hidden this blog from so many people and i shouldn't. they should know, they should read it, if they think its about them, then so be it, if they don't then so be it. if you can't handle the brutal honesty that i am wiling to afford you with, than you can't be apart of my life anymore. i've been through enough shit in my short lifespan that there is no reason on my end to treat you like a delicate flower; i wasn't  and have never expected anyone to treat me in a delicate manner, so why should i treat you that way, that's not who i am.

the holidays came, RB's birthday arrived, family members passed in recent years, people got sick, people got healthy, and i look around and i see who has been there and who hasn't and it's time to clean house. so, i'm going to tell all you memoir readers out there what i told Jan this morning: "I have the urge to clean everything, my house and my life out of crap i just don't need. by life i mean people. i'm not going to be angry about shit- its a waste of time to be angry, i'm going to say it, seriously and honestly and when people don't like it, there's absolutely no reason that they need be required to be my friend anymore. as much as sometimes my favorite people in the world bug me, they always seem to know they bug me, or if they didn't realize it, they endear themselves to me all over again. I'm still waiting for others to start re-endearing themselves to me".

i'm not waiting anymore. i'm moving on. if that's too harsh, and too much for some to handle than our relationship has run its course; it happens, accept it. i owe you nothing, just like you owe me nothing, i believe you get what you give, and both RB and I haven't been gettin' what we've been given for years. i refuse to wake up at 50 and resent everyone around us because i thought i was doing the right thing, and the universe wasn't reciprocating. that's why i love this blog.

i told you we were going places; you have a choice, you're either coming with me, and accepting me for who i am, who i have always been, or i'm leaving you behind to enjoy the memories we've shared and i'm making new ones with the ones that are willing to stay with me for my wild, insane, erratic ride. your choice. but don't be surprised, and don't hate me because i chose to be honest.

anger makes you ugly, and age quicker. i plan on keeping young and beautiful.