That Ain't French

I had my mid-year review today. All-in-all I'm killing it at work right now. That feels good to say out loud. And not in an "I'm bragging b/c I'm rad" kind of way, but more in a "I work my ass off" kind of way. Speaking of asses, in my midyear today my boss told me I need to "know my audience." I'm such an inquisitive young woman that I asked what exactly it was that he meant by that statement. He let me know that there are two (count it 2) types of people at my paycheck place - cool ones, and not cool ones. Apparently I dropped a F-bomb on a not cool one. In turn, said very uncool person remarked that I was a "phenomenal employee, but that language is not appropriate for the work place." Oh God, go f*ck yourself you ninny. You are a tool, you douche. (keep in mind that is exactly what I was saying in my head while this was being explained to me) I speak this way when complaining about your non-working ass b/c I'm stuck doing the job of 3 people when you can barely do the job of one. Or maybe I'm complaining about the fact that everyone I work with thinks they are more important than they actually happen to be. Or maybe I just like cussing. What's the problem with that huh? HOWEVER, I understand. I get it. I do. I just...I just...I don't know how to stop. I've had a potty mouth since I can remember. Hell I even lost my car for a week in high school b/c I couldn't stop cussing (my dad caught me cussing, long story short, he took the car until I "learned my lesson" - look how well that turned out). I cuss like a freight train. Anyone who knows me, knows that fact. It sort of just comes with the territory. But I've decided I'm going to attempt to use code words for all of my foul mouthed habits and hope that maybe I can kick this "problem". It will be hard b/c I don't think people fully understand and/or appreciate what I mean until I include an explicative. But hell maybe I can get the point across without 'em. ORRR maybe people will call me a puss behind my back, whatever, I'm going to try it out and see what happens (note I think this will last all of one day, maybe not even 24 hours. Come on this isn't my first rodeo!).

New Code Words:

Shut the front door - I've been using this for a while now, and while amusing it just doesn't hold the same feeling...ehhh I'll go with it

Betch - Please don't make me explain that term. It's also currently in use, but again, just not holding the same weight.

Flippin' - gey, but I'm going with it.

Clown - instead of ass hat or ass clown, I'll just go with clown.

I'm starting to shake. I don't think I can stop saying f*ck...its my favorite word. I use it every three seconds. I know its not lady like, so you can shut your face, but I like the word f*ck. Its fun! It holds great meaning. Its strong. It conveys my point. F*ck what am I going to do?!?! If only I could speak with that little asterisk. Or have someone follow me around and go "BLEEP" each time I cuss. This is going to be a very very long week....

Whoever Smelt It Dealt It

For those of you who don't know I've started taking Hot Yoga again. Its quite possibly the most relaxing and wonderful workout I've found, to date. Running is my church, Hot Yoga is my sanctuary. So anyway, you know, Yoga makes you go into all of these poses and you do all of this breathing, and you hollow out your stomach and then things happen.

You find you are breathing like a fat person, but that's how you should be breathing. You find that you are sweating like a whore in church, but that's how you should be sweating. You find that you are pushing your pelvis down, and hollowing out your stomach at the same time, and you are farting, but that's how you should be farting. WHAT? What just happened. Yep, that's right I farted in Yoga last night (not just once mind you). First time ever.

It wasn't loud, it was a creeper. But it happened the first time and I was like whatevs, I had a SBD (silent but deadly, get with the program) maybe, no one will know where it came from right? If they did, and it smelt (b/c I didn't smell anything except the sweat dripping into my nostrils), no one even batted an eyelash at me. Then it happened again, this time longer and more drawn out. And OH SHIT here comes the lady to make sure I'm hollowing out and pushing down my pelvis, and not using my wrists...wait for it...wait for it...she leans over to pull my pelvis back and I fart on her. YEP! It was just a creeper. And quite honestly they weren't smelling, I know b/c I can smell my own farts. I was just "passing gas" through my system. But I was hella embarrassed at the thought of farting on her chest as she attempted to help me through my pose, but I mean bish that comes with the territory. She has to know that's going to happen so I don't want to hear a word out of her. That's what she gets for leaning over my back and pushing her chest into me, and pulling my pelvis out. I mean really what did she expect was going to happen? I was going to sigh in contentment? No bish, imma fart. DEAL WITH IT.

So anyway, I approached her after the class to apologize for farting on her chest when she was just trying to help me out. I said very sheepishly "I'm really sorry I think I might have passed gas while you were helping me out." To which she replied very sweetly "Really? Didn't even notice! And if you did, its completely normal and natural. Don't you worry yourself a minute. You had some fantastic poses this evening...you really might be a natural." THANK YOU GOD! THANK YOU GANESHA! Whoever...just thank you for letting me fart on this woman's boobs and have her not even notice. I owe you big guy, I owe you!

Well You Can Just Go Kiss My Trailer Park

I was watching "Jersey Shore" the other day, shut up you know you watch it as well so I really don't want to hear even a peep out of you, and realized that while I say that these people are absolutely ridiculous they are completely normal. They are young. Think back to when you were 22, you acted in a similar fashion. Maybe I'm the only one, but it may not have been quite as intense or Jerseyish, but I was definitely a "situation" when I went out on the weekends. Weren't you?

Think about it, we all used to go out and get faced. I mean like faced. We used to start fights, with random people for no reason. Mostly b/c we had been pre-drinking since 7pm b/c we couldn't afford to drink at the bar, so we got to the bar at like 11pm and were totally sh*tcanned by that point. So someone would nudge us, or pass us, or drop their drink on us, and WATCH OUT b/c shiz was going down. Never mind the fact that most of the time those people had no intention of pissing us off, or even nudging us in the least bit and were probably too drunk to even notice they dropped a drink on us. But we were 22, drunk, and invincible. We were loud, obnoxious, conceited, over zealous, omnipotent, cheap dressers, self absorbed, etc. We WERE the cast of "Jersey Shore" whether you like it or not folks.

My whole point to this was not supposed to be about getting faced when I was 22. The whole point was supposed to be around the dynamics of that group. When you are young you have these people in your life who are your party friends. You think at the time that they are your closest friends, they will do anything for you, they will be there for you when you need it most, they are your people. But they aren't. Those people are just your going out friends. They will never be anything more. Perhaps one of them will turn into something more than that, but most likely you will grow up, stop going out, stop getting faced, and you will have nothing in common. This too will happen to the Jersey Shore people. Just like it did on "The Hills" - Lauren Conrad didn't want to be surrounded by those people any longer. They were fun, when she was into just having fun, but she wanted more, just like all of us want more as we get older (I know this b/c Lauren and I are good friends and she told me that herself <-- I'm totally kidding, I'm just assuming I know this about Lauren. WORSE.).

I realized the other day my sorority was also a lot like Jersey Shore. Now before anyone gets pissed off please know that I met some amazing ladies during my time in the sorority. Some of which I'm still very close (best of friends) and talk to on a regular basis. Others that I'm not so close to but still enjoy catching up with, laughing with, and stalking on Facebook. However, if you really think back to the ole sorority days, you find the people you were closest with were just a facade. In their defense we had no idea who we were when we were 18 - 21 years old. Like anyone they grew out of being friends with me and vice versa. I can't fault them - it happens. But what makes me sad about the entire situation (no pun intended) is how it all played out. I know people come in and out of your life for a reason. They are either worth fighting to keep in your life, or it just doesn't make sense to fight at all. Somewhere along the way I lost people. I'm not even sure anymore if it was me who lost them or if they lost me. Was it my doing? Was it their doing? Did they even notice? When did I notice? Do I want to reach out? Should I reach out? Do I care? Time passes, and people change, and life takes you in a different direction. But these ladies were, for four years at a minimum, such an integral part of my life. Am I just different now? Should I just let it go?

I struggle with this question often...did you notice a small theme in my blogs?

On a different note - my girlfriend (one of my sorority sisters, seee I still talk to a lot of them) and I were having drinks the other night and she told me that she ended up having drinks one night w/a young lady (ripe age of 23) working with the ex. The young girl, in full detail, explained to my friend how long ex and I dated, what type of relationship we had, how it ended, and most importantly that it really wasn't serious and I really wanted to get married and he didn't. DOOOO WHHAAATTTT??? Who the FRACK is this chick? WTH is my ex telling these young bucks? Whatever, I could care less, but in all honesty, it was hurtful. How dare someone say that 4 years of your life isn't serious...but maybe, in his mind, it wasn't. That's so sad to me. I'm sad for him. I'm not sad for me b/c I got seriously upgraded to first class with Coal Miner, but I'm sad for him that this is what he's telling people. I'm sad that this is what makes him feel better about himself, about the situation. I'm sad that lying is the only way. I would have hoped that he could be mature about the situation and quite frankly not discuss it in detail with individuals who don't know me, nor were they involved in the relationship. But perhaps that's his coping mechanism. Perhaps that is really how he feels. If so, I'm fine with that, I just wish he could find the peace that I did with the outcome. Maybe this is his peace, and if so, good luck to you my old friend, wish you nothing but greatness.

And that's that!

That's Not Funny, YES IT IS

I used to think I was going to be like the raddest mom alive. I had dreams of coo'ing babies and staring into the blue eyes of a smiling child. Taking family photos by the beach, all dressed in the same outfits. Staying home to workout, cook dinner, clean, discipline, and just be the most amazing mother and wife anyone could dream of being. Then my sisters had kids. My dreams have been shattered. I'm absolutely certain I'm going to be the worst mother alive. I think I will also be the angriest woman alive. Kids are a royal pain in the a$$. No I'm serious. They are cute and all, and I might be a complete natural (or so that's what everyone keeps telling me), but I'm just not sure I can deal with those little devil spawns. I've listed my reasons below (b/c you guys know that I love lists) as to why I think I'm going to receive a "F" with flying colors should I decide to successfully procreate.

1. I LOVE sleeping - kids apparently do not like sleeping. What they like is to wake up in the middle of the night and scream as if I've severed one of their limbs. They also like to do this multiple times throughout the night so that they can be sure that you are so exhausted that couldn't possibly keep yourself from crying less than three times in a 24 hour period. I think kids know exactly when you are in the deepest form of sleep. They wait until the right moment and then BAM - wake the eff up mommy my a$$ is hung-garee.
2. I'm vain - What if I can't lose my "baby weight"? What if I'm like one of those people on that TLC show "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" who is still fat from their previous pregnancy that they don't even know that they are pregnant with another child? Or if I'm like one of those people you see on the metro who you think you should offer your seat, but you aren't 100% certain, and you don't want to be the bish who offers a seat to a person who looks to be pregnant but isn't and then you are just like the worst human alive. What if that happens to me?
3. I like my boobs - am I a bad person if I'm afraid that my boobs are going to stretch and drop and look like inflated pancakes? OMG I'm starting to tear up right now just thinking about that situation. My boobs are awesome. Coal Miner loves my boobs. What if I decide to let one of my little spawns breast feed and then I have not cute boobs. And then Coal Miner isn't attracted to me and I have to wait to get a boob job b/c I can't get one until I'm done having kids. The horror.
4. I don't want a child to interfere with my unlimited mobile-to-mobile minutes - There is nothing I hate more that talking on the phone and someone being completely distracted b/c their child is tugging on their leg or screaming for something in the background. Mommy is trying to have a conversation so please shut your face for a few minutes. I am a terrible person, I already know this.
5. I don't know how to say no nicely - its a problem, no IT IS. My "no" usually consists of some horrid facial expression and a tone that could injure even the strongest self esteem levels. Add to that the fact that I think children should completely understand and comprehend, no matter the age, why I'm saying no...well that's just a recipe for disaster.
6. I have zero patience - I get irritated when...well when don't I get irritated? I'm the most irritated person I know. I mean I defend this by saying that adults should just "know better" but I bet I start saying "oh come on, that kid should know better!"
7. I like my weekends - my friend called me the other day from the soccer field. She told me that she had soccer at 9am, a birthday party at noon, another birthday party at 2pm and it was only Saturday. KILL ME NOW. She then started to cry a little until I told her that we could have wine on a school night b/c I would man up for that (I don't usually drink on school nights b/c it affects my super engaged mindset while I'm at my super engaging job) and b/c I could hear the desperation in her voice. She sniffled and said in a tiny whisper "thank you." I mean are you a bad mom b/c you'd rather get drunk than sit through two 3-year old birthday parties in one day? I don't think so.
8. I'm already exhausted and don't have time to workout - I get home now at like 7pm, after leaving at 7am. I'm exhausted. I'm hungry. I just sat in traffic. Its too hot for me to go running. I don't have a gym membership. And I'm getting fat. What happens once a child comes into the mix? What happens to my "hungry, flabby, no time to workout self" then?!?!
9. If I have to do another load of laundry I'll punch someone - I seriously cannot handle the amount of laundry that has come into my life since Coal Miner has come into my life. I swear to the heavens above that man never wears anything twice. All of the laundry I do is his. And freaking clothes are all over the floor, and I have to pick them up, and wash them, and blah blah blah. Adding another individual's laundry to my current 3+ loads a week sounds like nightmare on elm street 14. WORSE!

So you can see these are just a few of the reasons I probably wouldn't win Mother of the Year, well, ever. Am I bad person or is it normal to think you are going to be the worst mom ever?

Going Going, Back Back, to Two Years Ago

I was just over at Chelsea Talks Smack and reading her latest post, which took me back...oh back to a time I try to forget often, but need to relive at times. A time when the world seemed dark and twisted, and my life seemed more chaotic and meaningless that I could have ever admitted. Chelsea is going through a particularly similar situation - and I wouldn't wish that upon anyone. I don't know Chelsea personally, but a piece of my heart broke for her this morning. I know a little too intimately the dark feeling that clouds not only your head, but your judgment, and your life. It envelopes you with such power that it seems you will never escape its grip. But she will.

Some days I can't believe I was ever in that place. At times I think I may have dreamt it happened. And although it pains me to the core to admit it, I thank whoever is watching over me for allowing me the opportunity to experience the pain that ensued. Its through this pain that I learned about myself. I learned what I was willing to "put up with" and what was a deal breaker. I figured out what I liked. What I wanted. What made me tick. I found that this person I thought was going to be an integral part of my future, was never destined to be the person I thought he was. And I learned, no that's not the right word...I mastered the ability to be alone. And guess what, I loved it. I loved that I had such calm about the entire situation. I loved that I loved me. I loved that I had been in such despair and hit such a bottomless pit, that there was no where to go but to a state of self love. It’s okay that he wasn’t the right one for me. Its okay that I made mistakes. Its okay that I was a drunk, crying mess. Its okay that I hadn’t seen the things other people had (and let’s be real I had failed to listen). Its okay that I was wrong. I was really wrong.

I make this all sound very easy and very simple. But its not. It takes time. Years. But once you find that state, that euphoric state, the bliss that comes after …cannot be put into words. It is a feeling, an emotion, an overwhelming urge. My bliss is Coal Miner. He is my bliss. My current life is my bliss. My destiny. I am me. I am loved. And that dark time has never seemed as far away as it does now.

Chelsea, you will find your bliss. You are not alone. You are allowed to be however you want to be right now. You will find your bliss. <3