Unsupervised

Dan had to work late today.  While I dislike him being at work so late and having to work so much overtime... I have to admit... I kind of like being left unsupervised for a few hours.  

Usually, when I am left on my own for dinner, I'll eat popcorn.  I absolutely love all popcorn.  It could even be stale - I really don't care.  

While I have not yet attempted popcorning in this style, it appears to be the best idea since bendy straws.

One of my favorite places to eat popcorn has become the bathtub.  I'll pour in some bubble bath, set up my iPad, watch Netflix, and eat popcorn.  It's one of my happy places.

The last time Dan was going to be home after dinner, he asked I not eat just popcorn for dinner.  He knows me so well.  Instead, I ate Honey Nut Cheerios out of the box.  (I'm an adult!)

I find myself eating Cheerios from a box fairly frequently.  I'm terrible at remembering or making time to pack my lunch for school.  I don't have a terribly long lunch hour (it's more like 25 minutes), so going out to get fast food everyday is out of the question.  Sometimes I manage to run out and grab a burger.  However, I'm usually left to scrounge.  I keep some junk food in Narnia (my classroom closet).  Sometimes, I'll have enough change to get Pop Tarts from the snack machine.  Usually, though, I'll just munch on dry cereal from a box.  

Sometimes, when left to myself, I feel compelled to get all Do-It-Yourself.   This is never a good idea.  Though, that has rarely stopped me.  I'll just be sitting, thinking, "Hey, I wonder what is behind that wallpaper?" and just start going to town, ripping it off the wall.

The bathroom still doesn't have paint or new wallpaper...

I have since been banned from any more DIY home projects until I have fixed the bathroom.  This is a shame since I have discovered Disney wall paint, complete with LOTS of glitter.

An alternative to home destruction or pruning while popcorning which I like to indulge in is shopping.  This is sometimes a reasonable venture.  I try not to put myself in stores where I can cause too much damage to my bank account.  The dollar store is usually my best bet.  You'd be amazed what you can find at a dollar store!  There are some great stores near my school which sell school supplies and other things teachers may need.  I usually end up coming home with some sort of art supply or piece of junk I plan to glue shells or beads onto.  

Today, I went shoe shopping.  Therapeutic shoe shopping is/isn't a good idea for reasons I'm sure you can imagine.  That being said, I bought some great BOC cork wedges (I hate cork/wedges, but liked these...), and some Seychelles heels to match my 1920's dress for when I go see Gatsby.  

Most of the time, when I'm left alone, I end up just reading a book.  I love to read, so this works out for me quite well.  Speaking of which, I've got 7 books going right now (no lie, check my Goodreads profile) which I've got to work on.  Adios!

Book ADHD

I've heard people say they're in a "reading slump", where they just can't seem to pick up a book and get back into the swing of reading. I've been there. For about a year after college, I couldn't force myself to read a thing. Regardless of my slump, my compulsion to purchase books never dwindled. I would literally buy stacks of books and continue to stock my eBook library. Eventually, the slump died.

Book ADHD is the spastic answer to the reading slump. One does not necessarily follow the other, either. In fact, I wasn't in a slump before my BADHD set in this go around.

BADHD is what I call the phenomenon of being super excited about dozens of books to the point where, against better judgement, a person starts reading multiple books. When I say multiple books, I don't mean 2 or 3. I'm talking 14-26. It's absolutely uncontrollable. You just feel compelled to start reading another book. The other books aren't abandoned, they're just neglected. This is what brings on the guilt.

Not reading, abandoning or neglecting books are all bad juju. It's a 300 page, heavy drag on your soul. Multiply that with the number of books of someone suffering from BADHD and you find someone, like me, who is super excited about all things textual, yet absolutely depressed by the sheer number of pages weighing down on her soul.

I'm currently still in the denial phase: I can read them all. I will read them all. In fact, I'll read them all soon, so I can buy these 10 new titles and borrow this set from the library! *twitch*

The only recovery from BADHD is acceptance that it is impossible to read such an absurd amount of books at one time. I'm aware I have to choose 2 or 3 and power through them without the distraction of The List of Books I've started... I just haven't found the willpower to let go of the other books, even if it's just for a little while!

So, if you have a reader in your life, or you, yourself, are a reader, please take this as a warning: BADHD exists. Temper your excitement and hold tight onto your willpower. ONE BOOK AT A TIME! (Ok, or 2... Or 3...)

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Top 10 Things That Make Me Happy

While in El Paso, I watched a show with my mom where two celebrities listed the top 10 things that make them happy. Friends, family and health are givens. Here's my list followed by some explanations. What makes you happy?

1. Traveling
2. Having a great book to read
3. Writing
4. Game nights
5. Teaching
6. Someone singing to me
7. The smell of rain
8. Fountains
9. PJs
10. Crafting

Traveling - There is just something about leaving your life behind (not forgetting it, mind you) and seeing some place new. It's the adventure of being out of your own element and in someone else's. Nothing compares to being able to travel and experience something new you would have never been able to if you had stayed in one place.




Having a Great Book to Read - The next best thing to traveling will always be having a great book to read. Done well, great writing transports the reader to amazing places, real or not. I've been given some flack for reading mostly fiction or humorous non-fiction; told that it is second best to reading to learn. I whole heartedly object to the idea that reading fiction is not reading to learn. Fiction teaches the human condition.




Writing - Though I've lost touch with much more than blog writing lately, it still makes me very happy. It's like watching TV (which I don't do much of at all) or reading a great book, but with the ability to control where the story goes. I can create all sorts of adventures and choose where they go and how they get there. It's better than dreaming.




Game Nights - Growing up, my family played board and card games together. We are all competitive by nature. I love getting together with my friends or family for games. The games are really secondary to the laughter and fun of being around great people.




Teaching - I'm probably the only teacher on the planet who hates summer vacation. True, I get to travel. There is that, and I'm grateful for having the time to travel. However, I miss the kids. I miss bringing new ideas to them in fun and interesting ways and seeing them respond. They're also just dang fun to be around. It's truly the kids I loved about working at Disney. It's awesome I get to recreate that magic in a classroom.




Someone Singing to Me - It can be any song, even sung badly. Singing solo or along with the radio, making that connection lyrically, possibly emotionally (depending on the song) just makes me smile. It's like having my own personal rock star, performing just for me. Love it.




The Smell of Rain - It's the smell of the rain hitting the hot pavement (or sand in the desert) which hits you before the rain actually begins to fall that I love the most. The smell of the rain once it starts to fall isn't quite the same.




Fountains - No idea where I picked up my love for fountains. Even the most basic fountains draw me in. The more elaborate fountains absolutely enthrall me. I'm compelled to get in all of them... It's a serious battle of willpower not to.




PJs - I'm not talking about sexy nighties. I'm talking about super soft to the touch pants and matching tops, often with polka dots or absurd prints. At the end of the day, it's fantastic to slip into a pair of PJs and relax. My mother used to buy me PJs every time I was sick. They always brought me comfort and made me happy.




Crafting - It's about the challenge, not necessisarily the finished product. Trying new crafts, gluing, twisting, sewing, hammering things together to create something new is always something I'm willing to do. I'll see something and think, "I can make that." It's the process of trying to figure out how to do it, then actually doing it that I like most about crafting.

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3 Random Prompts - Sounds, Drunken Episode, Adventures in Space

For fun, I bought a book entitled, 642 Things to Write About. I asked my Facebook friends to choose 3 numbers, promising to write about whatever prompts followed their numbers. These are the results:

 

576 - Sitting in a single location for 20 minutes, take notes focusing exclusively on the sounds you can hear.

It sounds like a rustling leaf. Ticking dryly across the tile floor, edge over edge at sporadic intervals. Every now and then, it pauses, the sound replaced by tiny padded feet tapping lightly along the tile. When the soft pattering stops, the sound kicks up once again, beginning with the sound of the dry leaf hitting the tile from a fair height.

In the background, cicadas buzz their summery, evening hymn, rising and falling with the breeze. The only breeze audible near me is that produced by the ceiling fan. The light pull-chain clinks gently against the fan motor, which hums softly, in even, drawn out intervals.

The rustling has stopped, replaced by incessant licking, a rough brushing through soft fur, hitting the sticker the cat had been knocking around like a leaf. Moira desperately licks, her tongue scraping across the edge of the paper, slowly tearing off the sticker. With a slow suction noise, the sticker peels off her fur and hits the tile once again with a thin ticking. The padding of her steps grow quieter as she walks away.

 

289 - Another drunken episode.

"What? No. We are not doing that." Wearing leggings and boots to the bar had been the first bad decision of the evening. Responding to the arse at the bar who asked if I thought I was a super hero or something was likely the second. I was on my way to my third.

Ignoring the ever wise words of my friend Cate, I continued to make my way out of the bar. "It's okay, dude, I still have Halloween stuff in my trunk. I'm pretty sure I've got a mask and a cape. Trust me."

Cate sighed loudly, obviously not as inebriated as I, and stomped after me to the car. "Why do I have to be the bad guy?" She leaned against the green Honda Civic as I dug through the trunk.

"Duh, because both of us can't be superheroes. Someone needs to kidnap the girl and tie her to the railroad tracks." I grabbed the black Zorro mask my buddy Jack had returned and tied it on quickly as Cate stood staring, her mouth slightly agape in shock.

"We are not tying anyone to the railroad tracks." She crossed her arms, not bothering to catch either the orange Ninja Turtle eye mask or the black, floor length cape I'd tossed at her.

Frowning, I turned my attention from the trunk to her. Slowly, I grinned. "What if we tied Greg to the tracks?" It would take some convincing, but I was sure I could get Greg to play along. Cate has had a thing for Greg ever since her second year of college.

Cate barely considered before grabbing the cape and mask. "Now, you're talking," she grinned as she suited up.

"Great! Now help me find the cowboy lasso so we have some rope." What could possibly go wrong?

 

5 - You are an astronaut. Describe your perfect day.

Captain's log, 7/13/2178, 20:56. Won at Risk against the Martians again. It's really not fair. They don't quite understand the concept of divide and conquering. That and they just can't keep control of Europe. I'm worried they might start to take it personally and decide to take over Earth for real. Must figure out how to read Martian emotions.

I'm not entirely sure what it was that I had for lunch while gaming with the Martians. All I know is that it moved before, during and after being cooked. I keep trying to tell myself it tasted like chicken. Went back to the space station and promptly ate all of the freeze dried strawberries to get the "chicken" taste out of my mouth.

It's video night at the space station tonight and my turn to choose what to watch. I'm thinking something archaic, like Galaxy Quest. I'm sure the Martians would get a kick out of that. Maybe follow up with some Star Trek: The Next Generation episodes for good measure. I'm curious what their take on the Borg will be. I'm more curious about whether or not they'll like popcorn.

 

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Two Things Tuesday - Midnight Edition

I'm sure it'll hardly be Tuesday by the time I finish this post.  Nevertheless, it's still going to be a Two Things Tuesday post.  I had meant to write something earlier today.  However, I spent the day trying to think of two things to post about.  TWO.   Just two.  Seriously, how hard could that be?  Anyway.


1.  Have you ever looked positively mentally crazy?  While I try not to do this too often, I find myself in these situations more than I ought to be in them.  Today's crazy is compliments of my cousins Danielle and Emily.  For my bridal shower, they bought me this fantastic smelling perfume set from Victoria's Secret.  It's from the Sexy Little Things line and called "Tease".


Being home alone, with nothing better to do with myself, I decided to play with the contents of the gift set.  I tried the body wash, followed it up with the lotion, then a spritz from the fancy-shmancy perfume bottle.

Now, when I use foo-foo juice stuff, I expect to be able to smell it for maybe an hour on myself, then have it be noticeable to everyone but me after that.  This did not happen.  Hours later, I could still smell the pear, apple, vanilla, jasmine, and gardenia (oh, my!).  

It started to get to me.  Don't get me wrong, it smells great.  However... I was intrigued I still smelled so strongly.  So... I did what any self-respecting crazy person would do.  I licked my arm.

Anything that smells that strongly, I reasoned, was probably edible.  I wanted to know if I tasted like pears.  The first lick produced a taste that I thought might be pears.  Though, I wasn't sure.  It could just be the taste of lotion with lots of chemicals.  Pears/chemicals, same thing.  So, I continued to lick my arm for a little while in order to make a decision. 

Even the cats were watching me like I was nuts.

2.  I went to the post office today to ship a book to Wichita Falls, Texas and a box to Costa Mesa, California.  The helpful man behind the counter, who likes to give me a hard time every time I come in, mentioned it must be nice to be part of the 1%.  

Quizzically, I raised an eyebrow at him.  He responded that I was shipping my items more expensively than I should have.  I shrugged.  He fixed it and laughed, saying he was just picking on me.  :(

30 Things Series - How to Fall in Love Without Losing Yourself

The first half of the 30 Things List had things one should have before turning 30. The second half has things one should know. Without further ado, I give you #1 in a post of its own.

1. How to fall in love without losing yourself.

Now, I know it is wrong to post other people's published work. However, the story from the book was spot on for me, so I decided to post it in its entirety here until I get busted. My commentary follows the story.

_____________


What you are about to read is a fable, though it's inspired by the all-too-true experiences of many women we know.  It's a cautionary tale about a girl named Jess who had a way of losing herself every time she fell in love.  Love, of course, is a wonderful thing, a grand adventure of the heart.  But while it's thrilling to get caught up in its wake, don't forget to hold on to who you are - or that incredible person might get swept away.  That's what happened to Jess.


Like many young women in their twenties, Jess wanted a lot in life: a bigger apartment, a promotion, new ankle booties, and a loving boyfriend.  She was a meticulous dresser, kept her sunny studio apartment spotlessly clean, and loved her job.  She was curious about the city she lived in and drawn to the many things it offered, like art museums; tiny, interesting restaurants; awe-inspiring concerts; and even, when she was feeling ambitious, the occasional Shakespeare production.  She had a great sense of humor and many friends.  She was always busy on weekend nights.  Jess was a go-getter.  She had a good head on her shoulders.  And she was in love with love.


When Jess fell in love, she fell in love: headfirst, eyes wide shut, throwing herself into the relationship with her entire body and soul.  So much so that every time it happened, she would become a whole new person.


She met Baseball Billy at her corner bar one evening and was immediately smitten with his crooked grin and muscular arms - even though sports bored her to tears and she would have rather spent her Friday nights listening to a violin quartet than doing the seventh-inning stretch.  She stopped eating at her favorite French-Vietnamese place because Billy ate only at "chain" restaurants (to match the one he wore around his neck, she liked to joke).


But Jess's relationship with Billy stopped being a source of amusement to her friends when she started canceling plans, ignoring her book club, and giving away theater tickets to be with him.  They began to complain: What the hell?  When would they see Jess?  But the two stopped dating a few months later, and Jess was heartbroken, especially since she'd spent her entire year's shoe budget on tickets to see the World Series, which she had no interest in seeing.  Thankfully, there was always eBay.  Problem solved, and new platforms to boot.  (Jess liked puns.)


But when she met Sci-Fi Sam, Jess decided to try even harder.  She fell in love with his quirky sense of humor and owlish glasses.  It was a relief to be with someone whose vocabulary wasn't limited to "Babe" and "Get me a beer, would ya, hon?"  She read every one of Sam's far-fetched science-fiction screenplays and learned how to say "I love you" in Klingon without giggling.  On Halloween, she dressed up as Uhura to his Captain Kirk; she fought through the crowds in her uncomfortable Amidala headdress at Comic-Con; and she watched every episode of Stargate and Torchwood on Friday nights with the same intense devotion she used to give Man Men.


More than anything, though, Jess wanted a relationship to last.  She was obsessed with finding The One, and although she was only twenty-nine, she began to have an irrational fear that her city was filling up with smarter, younger, prettier girls every day who would take her right out of the running.  She had to put a ring on it.  It was time to get serious.


The next two years were a parade of boys - and the worlds that went with them.  There was Alt-Rock Andy (suddenly her iPod was filled with bands she'd never heard of, whose song lyrics she mauled when she sang along); next, Hockey Hal (now Fridays were at Madison Square Garden, and Jess discovered there was a certain thrill to pounding the glass and yelling); then Pretentious Pete (an aspiring writer whose short stories she could not understand but pretended to love); and finally, Hipster Harry (for him, she cut her hair into choppy layers to look more like the girls at the clubs they partied in till dawn).


She'd given everything to every boy she'd ever fallen in love with, and after a dizzying and devastating run of it, Jess woke up one day in Harry's drafty loft and looked in the mirror: "Who am I?" she asked, appalled to see a girl with messy hair and tired eyes, wearing a baseball cap and a flannel button-down over a World of Warcraft T-shirt, along with skinny jeans that were so unflattering on her.  What had happened?


But instead of despairing, Jess laughed out loud.  One thing she'd never misplaced was her sense of humor.  Seeing her reflection, she remembered: "I am Jessica.  I like J.Crew cardigans and extra-large Frappuccinos and fresh flowers and clean apartments and real dates with men who care about who I am.  I'm going to call my friends and start paying attention to my work.  I will comb my hair, I will renew my theater subscription, I will go see the new Picasso exhibit.  And I will never, ever again pretend to love video games."  She breathed a deep, stress-melting sigh.  Getting to know Jess again was going to be the coolest thing she'd done in a long, long time.  And the rest, she was suddenly certain, would fall into place.


Which, of course, it did.

_____________

No, I'm not Jess.  Though, I have been.  A long time ago, I posted the quote to my favorite quotes section of my many social networking profiles, "You could be anyone."  No one really noticed, which was fine.  It was more of the first time I awoke to the fact that I had become Jess from the story.  I could be anyone I needed to be for whomever I was with.

Unlike Jess, I never changed myself as a mad-dash attempt to "put a ring on it".  Instead, I'd change myself to be the person I thought the person I was with needed.  Someone very dear to me referred to people like us as "Fixers".  The term fits.  We're drawn to a person for whatever reason - we stay because we believe we can fix whatever is broken about them.

Yeah, I know it sounds very martyr, holier-than-thou, but that's the way it is.  Usually the fixing works out, then the relationship ends - unless the Fixer is caught in a Catch-22 situation where the issue he/she is trying to fix would be perpetuated by him/her leaving.

It took me a long time to learn this one, and even now I'm still working on it (I can tell you all about beer, though it isn't even remotely on my radar of interests).

All I know about this is that it is important to discover you, the real you, figure out what it is you really want out of life, and then be true to what you want.  It's okay to be selfish in this.  After all, you only get 100 years to live.  ;)

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