"Its in these moments we find who we really are" ....Jillian Patrick
Ahhh, today was my day...the day I had looked forward to/dreaded since August (see Fat Camp blog). Today was the Warrior Dash. 3.2 miles, 11 obstacles, mud, fire, water, terrain, hay bales, ropes, walls, tires, sweat, cold, fun, and in my case, sibling rivalry, growth, and perspective.
Woke up this morning running a bit behind schedule. We were supposed to be there an hour before our wave started, which was at 9 am. And funny, the person that chose that early time, bailed on us. One of our team members got sick this week and couldn't come. The other one, never even registered. So, wouldn't you know, the Wakefield sisters are at it again. Have I mentioned how much I love doing anything athletic with my sister? Oh yeah, I don't. She's like some ex-All Star basketball player, ex-Navy, cyclist, gym junkie, P90X, hearts things like Insanity. I even used her computer last night and some Excel spreadsheet was on her screen...not a budget, not a work program, an Insanity schedule. I did my fair share of sports growing up. Volleyball and soccer and yeah, sure, I was good. Starter, A-Team, select player but was considered "the smart child" but in my mind considered myself "the fat sister" (even though I wasn't overweight) in comparison to my siblings. Neen was the athletic one. Quincy, depending on year, was "the creative one" also "the funny one"...Standing in the kitchen, Neen says, "Oh since no one is going to show up today (our team), I'm going to go for best time. You're on your own."
So we're off to a late start, Neen is screaming at "Betty" (her GPS) and we arrive 30 mins before our start time. We grab our registration packets and run back to the car to put up our warrior hats and t-shirts. So, Neen is running ahead of me to open the trunk and I fall. Right in the parking lot, which is actually a cleared field and I tripped over a stick. People are walking into the event, much like you could picture a concert's flock of fans would be. I was so effin embarrassed. What does my sister do/say? Keeps running looking back and saying, "Pick up your feet, Khaki!! Is this how its going to be today?" I get to the car and throw our stuff in the trunk. Yes, I was carrying her shit too. Bitch. I wanted to deck her. Hell, a part of me wanted to just sit in the front seat and pout until she apologized.
Flashback: Church Camp, 1996. I'm carrying 2 gallons of milk to our condo in Panama City Beach, FL. My mom is forcing us to go to this church camp to make friends in our new city, Dallas. I busted on the asphalt and there goes my condo's weekly milk ration. Scraped up my knees and hands and was mortified. Neen, doesn't help me. Laughs. Oh and the things I had to do that week for her. She had broken both wrists and was casted. BOTH effin arms. Who helped her use the bathroom, shower, get trays of food, oh and yeah, rescue her ass when she decided to go wave jumping out to sea? Me.
I find that people in my lately don't really react the same way to situations like I do/would/hope that I would if in their shoes. But I didn't. I mustered up a laugh and shook it off. FML.
We pin our bibs on and tie our chips to our shoes and back at it again. We've been here 15 minutes and I feel like doing high knees on the way back in out of fear for falling again. Have I mentioned I have a HUGE fear of public humiliation? In the top 3, fears of mine.
We are walking around to the starting line. I'm already seeing some really crazy stuff and I'm loving it. People in teams. True teams. As in, they all dressed in Ninja turtle outfits, superhero outfits, crazy home-grown pieced together creativity. I think its awesome and half wished at that point I was a part of something like that. Standing at the starting line, I look at people. I get kind of quiet. I'm nervous. I want to puke. There are people of all shapes and sizes. All athletic abilities which is why I even signed up for this race. Someone mentioned that there were up to 650 people in each wave. I definitely think there were at least 200 in our's but I'm not sure. I kept hearing teams chant things like, "No man gets left behind." Even saw some shirts w/ that printed. I just felt very out of place. Then my mind starting racing on its own, random thoughts.
Wonder what the boys are doing? I hope Kevin remembers to send back Kyan's backpack back home. What time will I have to leave tomorrow to get them? Wonder if Braden and Darla are having fun back in Amarillo. Wish they were here. No, I don't. Yes, I do. No, I don't. How sweet of Jenny to send me that text msg yesterday. I wish she was here. Yes, I do. Is today Drea's birthday or is it tomorrow? Wish someone was here to take pics of us. Wonder if Tim is feeling better? Why hasn't he texted me this morning? When do we start? How many more minutes? This will be my first/last of these. I think we forgot to bring a towel. Am I going to get trampled when we start? Fall again? Man, my knees hurt.
And then, off we go.
I started out pacing myself. People running past me and I didn't care. As the masses passed me and I was keeping up w/ Neen, I was beginning to breathe hard. She proceeds to tell me, "You need to regulate your breathing better." Oh really? Ok. So I do what she says and then just said, "Go ahead. Really." And I slowed down to what I like to call a mall walk pace. There was no one in front of me for about 8 yards and no one behind me about that same distance. Cool, I can think. THEN I began to wonder how far apart the waves were. Was the next one going to start and people from that one pass me? Oh that's effin great. Every so often my sister would stop and cheer me on. But I wasn't sure if it was sarcasm or genuine. We did the cars first. Climbing over junk cars. Then tires. That was fun. I just walked on top of them. Yay, obstacles one and two, done. Then I was just pissed off. Just pissed off that I was even there. Wishing I had cancelled. BUT if I say I'm going to do something, I do it. And I signed up for this, so I'm going to do it. My friends flaked out on spectating. I did tell Tiff and Diane, a few friends that wanted to come, not to. I just wanted to get it over and done with. Our "team" was missing. I was not a happy girl at this point.
I started listening to a team behind me. One guy, three girls. The guy was hilarious. He was totally encouraging them. I liked it. He said, "C'mon ladies, no one gets left behind." I said, "Yeah, that's what my team said and do you see anyone with me?" They actually jogged up a little faster to catch up to me and said, "You're on this team now." We were doing stupid shit like "spirit sprinkles"....well, that's what James called my rendition of "jazz hands"...we ran, sprinted, walked, jogged, joked, laughed, and splashed through the creek, grunted up the hill, raced up the wall, scooted over the planks (which were so easy, at this point of pep in my step, might've been able to do cartwheels on the planks). Wow, did I just make it up the wall? Why yes, you did, Khaki. One of the obstacles you were stressing over, DONE!
I'm starting to have some fun and am glad that I'm there. Hello, rope bed though. Like a rope wall only no incline and elevated off the ground about 5-6 feet. So I have to climb up this wall and spider crawl on some fierce rope netting. I can see Neen. She's looking back at me, "Ass up, Khaki, like this." Nah, I don't want to do that. My legs are tired. I will just wait until the coast is clear and roll through this bitch. And I did. I log rolled across the 3 sections of this obstacle. So, while I have a fear of public humilation, sometimes I do things that one would think would be embarrassing and don't care. I'm just about to pull myself up to get off the obstacle when this lady, not all that small, is wearing pink Asics and my fingers are under her foot and she's struggling, using all her weight on that one foot, I swear, to get out of the net. I'm laughing and yelling at the same time. Fingers were cold and tingly after that. Nothing major though.
We're at a paced jog and I'm thinking, "How much longer?" James, Sandra, Tracy, and Alexis are still cracking jokes and we're all encouraging one another. James made a comment, "I think your sister is trying to tell us something." I said, "How so?" She's way the hell up there. He said, "Exactly." I laughed in a you-don't-know-the-half-of-it-don't-start kind of way and sped up to finish the race with her. As fast as my random thoughts often pass through my mind, they came again.
You can do this. This isn't THAT hard. Quit making it harder than it is. You've accomplished things in your life alot harder than a freakin, FUN, obstacle course. There's hot mud you're about to dive into up there. Wouldn't it be cool if my friends that told me they weren't coming actually came and surprised me? Tell me I can't and I'll show you I can.
Oh and what's this, random thoughts interrupted, brunette barbie just passed me, wearing a pink sports bra, black spandex shorts, matching running shoes, and sporting rock hard abs, hardly panting, like a gazelle, and it dawns on me...the NEXT wave of people are coming..there's no way in hell she's from my wave of people. They are now passing us/me. Now, my goal was NOT to be first. I mean, that's not a reasonable expectation to have. But it damn sure wasn't to be passed by someone I had a 30 minute start against....and it damn sure isn't to be last of my wave. So, I saw the rope wall and was smiling and really glad because I was 3 obstacles away from the finish line.
As I'm climbing up the rope wall, a photographer is behind the netting. He says, "That's the prettiest smile I've seen all day." I said, "So take a picture!" He said, "Got it." Then he's telling me to be careful and reach left, and I'm like, "I got this!!!"
Neen is at the bottom cheering me on. At this point, I think she's genuine. We jumped over the cheesy make-shift fire pit, then dove into the mud where we crawled on our hands and knees. These last 3 obstacles were so close to the finish line that spectators are watching us at this point. I just don't even want to make ey contact w/ any of them. Get me out of here and amidst the mud-covered masses w/ a medal around my neck so I can go home.
We finish. A lady puts a medal on my neck. I look back at the race and see quite a few people approaching the finish line and was comforted, proud, relieved, happy.....I wasn't last. I finished. And it ended up being fun.
Then me and Neen get to the car and forgot to bring a towel. Covered in mud. Now, I have this huge reservation about my body. And so this is funny. Neen is wanting to look for the showers. I'm like, "Just open your car doors, change between them." And she says, "You, YOU are going to just change out here?" I take off my shirt right in the parking lot, and yes, changed right there. I piled up all my muddy clothes, put on dry ones and was done. Proud. Accomplished. Finished.
I know it was just a silly race to most people. But to me, it was more than that. It was overcoming many things. And I gained perspective on so much while I was out there. Mission Accomplished.
Fun Fact: There was a guy who finished the entire race in 18 minutes. Wow. I tried to check the stats to see who had the best time and where exactly I "placed" but it wasn't posted at the time of this blog.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wishing for someday
Me to my brother via text: Yeah, well somedays I feel like I'm going to just break. Perhaps, today.
Him back to me via text: Someday we will look back and laugh.
With that said, here's to wishing it were someday.....here's my cup of broken emptiness barely held up, tears filling up my eyes so much that I can hardly see the computer screen to type this, in one blink, tears will stream down my cheeks and fall on my lap....my lap, where my gray Banana Republic dress pants have icing stains from a kid who decided he didn't want the purple cupcake today at the Halloween party, the chili cheese blob that dripped out of the burrito while we grabbed dinner en route on the way to church, and the saggy backside from sitting at my desk all day long......heart pounding, head throbbing, big fucking cheers to someday.
I've learned in the course of the last year that I tend to push people away when I get like this. Not that it happens often, but I do. I feel like I carry the world on my shoulders most days and God forbid I show signs of weary or even a fucking breaking point because that, is failure. And so many women in my shoes bitch and moan about how hard life is and I'm going to be the exception. I'm going to prove that I can do this and do it well. Fail. Epic fail. It's fucking hard and I hate my life right now. And those tears mentioned only a paragraph before are now sobs. That stream of tears is now 3 streams of tears. My face is flooding. "They" say sometimes a good cry does the mind, body, and soul good but I fight it. I used to be such an emotionally raw person. And aside from remembering the exact date, I can almost tell you exactly the moment I became cold. Kevin and I were fighting once and the fight was because I was feeling neglected as a wife. Nothing sexual. Just attention. So, I was telling him how sad I felt and I remember him saying to me this, "And quit w/ the fucking tears, Khaki, they don't work with me. Your tears mean jack shit." And I can play the echo in my head...."my tears mean jack shit.....my tears mean jack shit...."
So, every fight after that became anger driven instead of expressing sadness, I expressed anger. And he shuts down at anger. Here I sit, feeling broken.....and wouldn't ya know, 10 years on this day I was dressed beautifully in my wedding gown vowing to Kevin til death do us part that I would honor, cherish, blah fucking blah......and today, I sit here divorced.
I'm not sad that I'm divorced. Because being married to Kevin was toxic. Let's face it, if I were feeling sad today, while married, my tears would mean jack shit, right? But I have this emptiness inside and my mind wishes for someone that my tears would matter to.....or does it really? I'm not sure that's it either. I don't cry often. I've only cried a handful of times since my divorce but lately, I feel like I'm on the brink of a nervous breakdown. Like I can't get a grip on anything. Plans constantly falling through, kids acting insane, just life has all of a sudden become unmanageable for me. I don't know where to start so that I can regroup. I give so much of myself to everyone else and when I take time for me, I feel guilty.
Today we had this 4 hour team building meeting. We were given a homework assignment on Monday that we had to list 3 qualities about each person on our team and share them at the meeting. So, there are 7 people on my team. We have 17 accountants but only 7 report to my direct boss. So, out of everyone on the team, I'm the one that everyone said was, "Cheerful, Happy, Funny, Witty, Awesome sense of humor, Always so positive, Motivating, Awe-inspiring, Admirable, Caring, Compassionate, Creative, Makes me laugh daily, Breath of fresh air, No matter how much she has on her plate or how overworked she is always smiling." Seriously, have we met? I've worked there a year now. Good game, Khaki. (eyeroll) I hear that alot....about my smile and about my sense of humor. Well, at least I can make other people laugh.
I just wish I knew my purpose. I find it really hard to believe that I was put on this fucking earth to sit in an office and crunch numbers all day. I remember Jodi, SOX Compliance Director at Fogo, asking me to footnote some financials once. I figured it out, thanks to Google. And dropped the files back to her office and she said, "No, send them to Pricewaterhouse to this address." Ummm, wow, she didn't even want to look at them. Send them straight to the auditors, huh? Then a few weeks later, she got the audit report back and there were no corrections to be done. She tells me, "you're such a natural at this, Khaki. I've never seen anything like it." Ok, Jodi, who has a double CPA, one from South Africa which is the hardest one to get, and one from the U.S. that everyone I know w/ a CPA has failed at least once before obtaining those three glorious letters after their name called me, Khaki, the girl who bullshits her way through most things, "a natural" when it comes to accounting. HA! Do people even know this girl? The one I see in the mirror everyday? I mean, really.
Behind all this bullshit is someone that wants more in life. I'm not right. Something about me just isn't right lately and I can't figure it out.
Another funny, a boy (I call them that because I can and feel like it) asked me to be his girlfriend this week. He's pretty enamored with me. I keep telling him, "Hi, I'm Khaki, have we met? I have 3 kids." He doesn't have children, is 28, a'ight looking, nice guy, funny, very smart, witty, and charming.....so why aren't I interested in him? I don't know. I tell my friends about him and they say, "Wow, go for it." He lives in Houston, which if you think about it, could be a great set-up. He wouldn't be up my ass every day. I only have every other weekend free to date anyway, right? Houston could be fun. Give me something to look forward to? No, bullshit. It's not that I find something wrong w/ everyone I meet. I think its that I'm not interested in dating, period. I'm not. At all. I used to be so eager when my phone would light up or go off or blink and now, I don't care.
Me and my friend Carly were talking about being that "someday girl" to someone. You know, the girl that is just perfect....someday. So, that guy, Tim, that asked me to be his girlfriend said to me, "I'm not looking for someday girl. I want to snatch you up before someone else does. I want you as my right now girlfriend."
Someday girl desires to laugh right now.
In fact, Saturday night, I'm going by myself to Cap City Comedy Club to see Gary Guhlman. Because I want to laugh. So badly, I desire to laugh. I'm hoping for gut wrenching hurt so fucking hard laughter....like I had at the Haunted House a few weeks ago w/ Jillian.
Anyway, the tears are gone and its time for a shower. Here's to somefuckingday....when someday girl can someday look back at today and laugh.........someday.
Him back to me via text: Someday we will look back and laugh.
With that said, here's to wishing it were someday.....here's my cup of broken emptiness barely held up, tears filling up my eyes so much that I can hardly see the computer screen to type this, in one blink, tears will stream down my cheeks and fall on my lap....my lap, where my gray Banana Republic dress pants have icing stains from a kid who decided he didn't want the purple cupcake today at the Halloween party, the chili cheese blob that dripped out of the burrito while we grabbed dinner en route on the way to church, and the saggy backside from sitting at my desk all day long......heart pounding, head throbbing, big fucking cheers to someday.
I've learned in the course of the last year that I tend to push people away when I get like this. Not that it happens often, but I do. I feel like I carry the world on my shoulders most days and God forbid I show signs of weary or even a fucking breaking point because that, is failure. And so many women in my shoes bitch and moan about how hard life is and I'm going to be the exception. I'm going to prove that I can do this and do it well. Fail. Epic fail. It's fucking hard and I hate my life right now. And those tears mentioned only a paragraph before are now sobs. That stream of tears is now 3 streams of tears. My face is flooding. "They" say sometimes a good cry does the mind, body, and soul good but I fight it. I used to be such an emotionally raw person. And aside from remembering the exact date, I can almost tell you exactly the moment I became cold. Kevin and I were fighting once and the fight was because I was feeling neglected as a wife. Nothing sexual. Just attention. So, I was telling him how sad I felt and I remember him saying to me this, "And quit w/ the fucking tears, Khaki, they don't work with me. Your tears mean jack shit." And I can play the echo in my head...."my tears mean jack shit.....my tears mean jack shit...."
So, every fight after that became anger driven instead of expressing sadness, I expressed anger. And he shuts down at anger. Here I sit, feeling broken.....and wouldn't ya know, 10 years on this day I was dressed beautifully in my wedding gown vowing to Kevin til death do us part that I would honor, cherish, blah fucking blah......and today, I sit here divorced.
I'm not sad that I'm divorced. Because being married to Kevin was toxic. Let's face it, if I were feeling sad today, while married, my tears would mean jack shit, right? But I have this emptiness inside and my mind wishes for someone that my tears would matter to.....or does it really? I'm not sure that's it either. I don't cry often. I've only cried a handful of times since my divorce but lately, I feel like I'm on the brink of a nervous breakdown. Like I can't get a grip on anything. Plans constantly falling through, kids acting insane, just life has all of a sudden become unmanageable for me. I don't know where to start so that I can regroup. I give so much of myself to everyone else and when I take time for me, I feel guilty.
Today we had this 4 hour team building meeting. We were given a homework assignment on Monday that we had to list 3 qualities about each person on our team and share them at the meeting. So, there are 7 people on my team. We have 17 accountants but only 7 report to my direct boss. So, out of everyone on the team, I'm the one that everyone said was, "Cheerful, Happy, Funny, Witty, Awesome sense of humor, Always so positive, Motivating, Awe-inspiring, Admirable, Caring, Compassionate, Creative, Makes me laugh daily, Breath of fresh air, No matter how much she has on her plate or how overworked she is always smiling." Seriously, have we met? I've worked there a year now. Good game, Khaki. (eyeroll) I hear that alot....about my smile and about my sense of humor. Well, at least I can make other people laugh.
I just wish I knew my purpose. I find it really hard to believe that I was put on this fucking earth to sit in an office and crunch numbers all day. I remember Jodi, SOX Compliance Director at Fogo, asking me to footnote some financials once. I figured it out, thanks to Google. And dropped the files back to her office and she said, "No, send them to Pricewaterhouse to this address." Ummm, wow, she didn't even want to look at them. Send them straight to the auditors, huh? Then a few weeks later, she got the audit report back and there were no corrections to be done. She tells me, "you're such a natural at this, Khaki. I've never seen anything like it." Ok, Jodi, who has a double CPA, one from South Africa which is the hardest one to get, and one from the U.S. that everyone I know w/ a CPA has failed at least once before obtaining those three glorious letters after their name called me, Khaki, the girl who bullshits her way through most things, "a natural" when it comes to accounting. HA! Do people even know this girl? The one I see in the mirror everyday? I mean, really.
Behind all this bullshit is someone that wants more in life. I'm not right. Something about me just isn't right lately and I can't figure it out.
Another funny, a boy (I call them that because I can and feel like it) asked me to be his girlfriend this week. He's pretty enamored with me. I keep telling him, "Hi, I'm Khaki, have we met? I have 3 kids." He doesn't have children, is 28, a'ight looking, nice guy, funny, very smart, witty, and charming.....so why aren't I interested in him? I don't know. I tell my friends about him and they say, "Wow, go for it." He lives in Houston, which if you think about it, could be a great set-up. He wouldn't be up my ass every day. I only have every other weekend free to date anyway, right? Houston could be fun. Give me something to look forward to? No, bullshit. It's not that I find something wrong w/ everyone I meet. I think its that I'm not interested in dating, period. I'm not. At all. I used to be so eager when my phone would light up or go off or blink and now, I don't care.
Me and my friend Carly were talking about being that "someday girl" to someone. You know, the girl that is just perfect....someday. So, that guy, Tim, that asked me to be his girlfriend said to me, "I'm not looking for someday girl. I want to snatch you up before someone else does. I want you as my right now girlfriend."
Someday girl desires to laugh right now.
In fact, Saturday night, I'm going by myself to Cap City Comedy Club to see Gary Guhlman. Because I want to laugh. So badly, I desire to laugh. I'm hoping for gut wrenching hurt so fucking hard laughter....like I had at the Haunted House a few weeks ago w/ Jillian.
Anyway, the tears are gone and its time for a shower. Here's to somefuckingday....when someday girl can someday look back at today and laugh.........someday.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
I hate carrots, not those carrots, the dangling kind....
So, I expressed my gratitude last week for all things wonderful despite my unfortunate situation and today, it's killing me. I'm so pissed off.
I finally did the math on my situation. As an accountant, I try to avoid it when I can but today I got curious. I shouldn't have done that. Just over $2000 in personal effects/losses were taken from me. Most of you know I'm a very independent person. You know, that smile you see when you look at me that says, "Hey, I'm a cute single mother of 3 boys with my shit together....." Uh huh, that one? Well its gone today and I am furious. I've got a look on my face that says "Stay the @#$%^&* away from me."
Since September 26th, I've had more shards of glass in my fingers/ hands than I ever thought possible from a broken window (even after an hour of vacuuming). I've talked to more people in India than I ever cared to. I've met the Assistant Vice President of Chase Bank. I've had to issue a fraud alert on my ss#, fill out a stack of forms, research on the internet, etc, etc, etc. Today, I received the final credit card replacement.
So, today I also watched the lovely folks out at Zilker Park setting up for ACL Music Festival from my work window. Inside my purse were 2 tickets to ACL. This was my treat to myself. I actually have talked for months about what I was going to do with my wedding ring. After a year and a half of wondering what to do with it, I decided to sell it. I didn't even really care all that much if I got what it was worth. I needed to get rid of it for my own emotional closure to the divorce. I offered to give it back to my ex-husband. He asked me to keep it. Every time I saw it, I thought about all the memories and let's not forget about the vows that went with it. It needed to be gone. Part of me was hopeful it would be enough money to take a quick trip by myself over the Christmas holiday. A trip to anywhere but here since this will be the first Christmas (of many) that my boys will be gone. It wasn't but it was enough to pay my babysitter to camp out at the student sale and get me tickets to an awesome music concert for a weekend. I've checked craigslist in Dallas/Austin all day and I just can't spend the $200+ they want for another ticket. Counting what I already spent, that would be crazy. It's not like John Mayer is going. That would be ignorant. My boss has sent me every single internet/radio contest out there to win tickets.
I got 2 tickets and was going to give one of my BGF's first dibs because 1) he's never been and mentioned it several months ago. His bday is coming up and it was going to be a Happy Bday. 2) I wanted someone to go with 3) Even if he couldn't go, one of my newest girlfriends wanted to go, we seem to hit it off and have fun together. 4) I knew I could get rid of it.
So, it has got me wondering: Why do bad things happen to good people? Who does this sort of thing? WTH were they thinking? Why? Why me? They have used enough of my debit/credit cards to get enough gas to get them from here to NYC. I wonder if my tickets are in the garbage somewhere with my purse. I wonder if they'll use that gas and drive to Austin to go to the concert and have the time of their lives. I wonder if they'll ever regret it. I wonder, at what point, does conscience set in?
As I ventured to the breakroom to gab w/ coworkers, grab my daily Diet DP, and eat lunch, I looked out at the magnificent border of blue port-a-potties circumferencing Zilker Park, the white shiny peaks of the tents, and the green green grass. As I walked out to my car and felt the cool breeze, I imagined how sweet its going to be for the many thousands of people to be sitting outside all weekend jamming out to some great music and eating some of Austin's finest foods. What will I be doing on my begged-Kevin-to-switch-with-me-had-the-kids-for-two-weekends-in-a-row-and-all-I-hear-are-screams-kid-free-weekend? I don't know yet. I thought about going to a haunted house somewhere. I'm all about doing things by myself. I actually like it. But a haunted house? Yeah, perhaps not. I thought about visiting my friends in Dallas (Lavon) but only one of them has come to visit me so I think I should go on strike. Maybe I'll catch up on that Season 2 & 3 of True Blood, or all my other shows on DVR, or maybe I'll go to Town Lake and rent a Kayak.....probably not, I bet you could hear the music from there. Or maybe I'll just work.
Ok, I feel better for the pity party. It's done now. :-) It just sucks and I hope that someday, they get a dose of what goes around comes around (which also has me wondering, wth did I do? when? and to whom?)
And fyi, don't leave your purse in your car....even if you drive a minivan, even if you're only going in for a second, even if you're in Amarillo, even if you think it's well hidden.......and if you do, leave your car unlocked so you don't have to pay for a broken window.
Lol.
P.S. Dear Santa, All I want for Christmas is a chain wallet. Tell the Mrs. to hold off on the Snuggie for my birthday.
I finally did the math on my situation. As an accountant, I try to avoid it when I can but today I got curious. I shouldn't have done that. Just over $2000 in personal effects/losses were taken from me. Most of you know I'm a very independent person. You know, that smile you see when you look at me that says, "Hey, I'm a cute single mother of 3 boys with my shit together....." Uh huh, that one? Well its gone today and I am furious. I've got a look on my face that says "Stay the @#$%^&* away from me."
Since September 26th, I've had more shards of glass in my fingers/ hands than I ever thought possible from a broken window (even after an hour of vacuuming). I've talked to more people in India than I ever cared to. I've met the Assistant Vice President of Chase Bank. I've had to issue a fraud alert on my ss#, fill out a stack of forms, research on the internet, etc, etc, etc. Today, I received the final credit card replacement.
So, today I also watched the lovely folks out at Zilker Park setting up for ACL Music Festival from my work window. Inside my purse were 2 tickets to ACL. This was my treat to myself. I actually have talked for months about what I was going to do with my wedding ring. After a year and a half of wondering what to do with it, I decided to sell it. I didn't even really care all that much if I got what it was worth. I needed to get rid of it for my own emotional closure to the divorce. I offered to give it back to my ex-husband. He asked me to keep it. Every time I saw it, I thought about all the memories and let's not forget about the vows that went with it. It needed to be gone. Part of me was hopeful it would be enough money to take a quick trip by myself over the Christmas holiday. A trip to anywhere but here since this will be the first Christmas (of many) that my boys will be gone. It wasn't but it was enough to pay my babysitter to camp out at the student sale and get me tickets to an awesome music concert for a weekend. I've checked craigslist in Dallas/Austin all day and I just can't spend the $200+ they want for another ticket. Counting what I already spent, that would be crazy. It's not like John Mayer is going. That would be ignorant. My boss has sent me every single internet/radio contest out there to win tickets.
I got 2 tickets and was going to give one of my BGF's first dibs because 1) he's never been and mentioned it several months ago. His bday is coming up and it was going to be a Happy Bday. 2) I wanted someone to go with 3) Even if he couldn't go, one of my newest girlfriends wanted to go, we seem to hit it off and have fun together. 4) I knew I could get rid of it.
So, it has got me wondering: Why do bad things happen to good people? Who does this sort of thing? WTH were they thinking? Why? Why me? They have used enough of my debit/credit cards to get enough gas to get them from here to NYC. I wonder if my tickets are in the garbage somewhere with my purse. I wonder if they'll use that gas and drive to Austin to go to the concert and have the time of their lives. I wonder if they'll ever regret it. I wonder, at what point, does conscience set in?
As I ventured to the breakroom to gab w/ coworkers, grab my daily Diet DP, and eat lunch, I looked out at the magnificent border of blue port-a-potties circumferencing Zilker Park, the white shiny peaks of the tents, and the green green grass. As I walked out to my car and felt the cool breeze, I imagined how sweet its going to be for the many thousands of people to be sitting outside all weekend jamming out to some great music and eating some of Austin's finest foods. What will I be doing on my begged-Kevin-to-switch-with-me-had-the-kids-for-two-weekends-in-a-row-and-all-I-hear-are-screams-kid-free-weekend? I don't know yet. I thought about going to a haunted house somewhere. I'm all about doing things by myself. I actually like it. But a haunted house? Yeah, perhaps not. I thought about visiting my friends in Dallas (Lavon) but only one of them has come to visit me so I think I should go on strike. Maybe I'll catch up on that Season 2 & 3 of True Blood, or all my other shows on DVR, or maybe I'll go to Town Lake and rent a Kayak.....probably not, I bet you could hear the music from there. Or maybe I'll just work.
Ok, I feel better for the pity party. It's done now. :-) It just sucks and I hope that someday, they get a dose of what goes around comes around (which also has me wondering, wth did I do? when? and to whom?)
And fyi, don't leave your purse in your car....even if you drive a minivan, even if you're only going in for a second, even if you're in Amarillo, even if you think it's well hidden.......and if you do, leave your car unlocked so you don't have to pay for a broken window.
Lol.
P.S. Dear Santa, All I want for Christmas is a chain wallet. Tell the Mrs. to hold off on the Snuggie for my birthday.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Amazed and Dazed
So, after this weekend w/ Braden, I've been in a funk. I had an amazing weekend, actually. I just don't know what I want from our relationship. And not sure I have a choice really. One minute I think I have finally found my guy best friend. Then I think I like him...LIKE him, like him. On the fence. And as soon as I think I would date him, I remember my sister saying that when you know, you'll know early. Really? I can't say I knew that w/ Kevin. I know we're just talking about dating but I don't get a giddy butterfly feeling around Braden. I get a very comfortable feeling. I can't explain it really.
Boys are stupid, we should throw rocks at all of them. Even Brian, my buddy at work who saves my ass and points out the obvious w/o making me feel like an idiot.....who also makes me laugh my ass off. :-) Like I told him today, he's like the big brother I never wanted. Boys are stupid, all of them.
My happy hour date w/ Ryan was a bomb, btw. I mean, he's nice, he inquired about me, we laughed, he's very attractive, but there just wasn't something there....I think he's too young. Perhaps a bit immature for me. Oh, I did laugh so hard it hurt when he made fun of a retarded kid though. I know, very bad, Khaki. For shame.
So, I can't figure Braden out at all. I'm tired of trying actually. I'm also tired of thinking about it/him. So, why can't I stop? Ugh, if I were friends w/ me, I'd punch me.
I had a very long post in my head all ready to write but am far too tired from all this running to type it up but perhaps I will this weekend.
Boys are stupid, we should throw rocks at all of them. Even Brian, my buddy at work who saves my ass and points out the obvious w/o making me feel like an idiot.....who also makes me laugh my ass off. :-) Like I told him today, he's like the big brother I never wanted. Boys are stupid, all of them.
My happy hour date w/ Ryan was a bomb, btw. I mean, he's nice, he inquired about me, we laughed, he's very attractive, but there just wasn't something there....I think he's too young. Perhaps a bit immature for me. Oh, I did laugh so hard it hurt when he made fun of a retarded kid though. I know, very bad, Khaki. For shame.
So, I can't figure Braden out at all. I'm tired of trying actually. I'm also tired of thinking about it/him. So, why can't I stop? Ugh, if I were friends w/ me, I'd punch me.
I had a very long post in my head all ready to write but am far too tired from all this running to type it up but perhaps I will this weekend.
Fat Camp
Ok, so long story long, l have a very special person that I'd say I loved more than most anyone...for the sake of anonymity, let's just call her Patty....dear sweet Patty has been begging me to play golf for about 2-3 years now. Sometimes this begging comes in the form of bragging. I'm not sure if she is trying to brag in hopes that my very competitive streak will bite the bait or what. She has graciously provided everything I need to take up said sport. Golf bag, brand new Nike golf shoes, clubs, even cute lil golfing outfits....but gee, I have so much free time on my hands that this isn't really possible. BUT did agree that I would play with her more and more as the kids were gone. We'd start hitting up the driving ranges, etc....because I'm no where NEAR golf course ready. Today, sweet Patty, almost cancelled lunch on me because she "wanted to be lazy".....so when I got the text message at 4:59pm that said, "not golfing, too hot" I was a bit skeptical given PATTY used to love Bikram yoga and yardwork and all kinds of things hot and sweaty....what's a bucket o' balls on a driving range at sunset....almost sounds like a sweet vision of mother/daughter time...oh, except my mother's name isn't Patty...it's PATricia. :-) Poor Patty had no idea I spent 2 hours of my afternoon trying to remember where I put those cute golf clothes or that I spent some time (can't believe I am going to admit this) googling which golf club you use at a driving range....and no, you don't just use your driver, duh (eye roll w/ a smile).
And most of you know that I recently took my first spin class, right? Yeah, I hated it. It sucked. If my precious little sister thinks that riding a stationary bike going nowhere fast for an hour in a room full of triatheletes, while listening to some crappy music and walking bowl legged for 3 days is fun and watching me do this motivates her, I'll do it. I'll take one for the team. I love her. I do.
Now, let's meet JY, for the sake of anonymity, of course. JY is a new friend of mine. Actually, a friend of my sister's I met a few weeks ago. You ever met someone that has on no makeup and is absolutely beautiful and when they say something about looking like crap or not having any make-up on, you want to just punch them in the face? That's JY. She is smart, successful, gorgeous, fit, no kids, unmarried, etc. She's my skinny bitch friend. :-) We're going to hunt us down some gay male friends and force them to be our BFFs. At any rate, I've agreed to do this Warrior Dash (google it) with JY, JY's friend whom I have yet to meet but am meeting on Sunday, and my sister who is an endurance machine. JY posted lovely pics of her on a boat this weekend, wake boarding, in a bikini.....made me sick a lil bit actually.
You see, I really don't give a shit that the scale says I weigh 152lbs. I don't care that some obesity chart says I should weigh 129-132lbs. I really don't. I do care that my divorce diet is no longer working. This has to be a great sign for my mental/emotional health but not so much my eating. I did not get up to 324lbs by hating food, I will admit. Yes, I used to weigh 324lbs, about 7 yrs ago. I lost 172lbs of that in a year's time. Yes, I had my guts re-routed but also became a gym whore. I spent countless hours in the gym with an amazing workout buddy and a personal trainer. THEN, I had my first son....THEN 20 months after him, I had my twins. I'm well aware of what I need to do to get my body back in shape. It's sad that it took a divorce and my sister having a baby to really get motivated to do it though. Lol.
I remember when I first started working out and Eric (Michael J. Fox lookalike personal trainer) would put the treadmill on 15 minutes and I would just die. It was the longest 15 minutes of my life. Everyday I would bribe myself w/ something like 10 minutes in the hottub if you finish your 15 minutes. Of course, I got to where I would do over an hour on the treadmill, weight circuits, etc, and it was nothing. I very vividly remember laughing at myself and having a conversation w/ my workout buddy reminiscing when 15 mins of WALKING on the treadmill would kill us. I came a long way in a year.
I love sports. I've played sports and been an athlete all my life. Really, soccer, volleyball, whatever. My favorite sport is racquetball. Something about chasing that damn bouncy ball all over that court, hitting it as hard as you can when you do finally make contact with it.....LOVE IT...I suck and I don't know the rules but I can wear the outfit and pull it off. I even have a fancy racquet that would lead one to believe I know what the hell I'm doing. What does it matter, I get red-faced, sweaty, and crave water aferward so it's doing something, right? :-D (yes, I'm kidding)
So, agreeing to train w/ some marathoners and compete in some obstacle course thingy made me go for a nice run today. I'm the type of person that does what I say I'm going to do. If I say I'm going to train w/ you, I will. Yeah, my body hates my brain sometimes. I realized while I was on my lil journey that you don't need a fancy gym membership or a sleepless night of watching the P90X infomercial to get off your ass and do something. You need this:
1) Motivation: a SB for a friend that posts pictures of herself in a bikini to remind you you won't look like that ever but try to come close, an email conversation w/ an ex husband that went awry, some sibling rivalry, a bad day at work, an old photo of yourself at 324lbs, a recent photo caught at a bad angle (to which your friend that posted it hasn't responded to your request to delete yet), the simple desire to be healthy and fit, whatever the case may be.
2) Spandex - wear something skin tight, something with a little pinch to it just to serve as a reminder, little love tug, that if you run a little harder or push yourself a little longer, these pants might just fall off in a few months...I opted for black yoga pants and a black tank top. Make sure you go when the sun is out so that you can see your shadow cast on the pavement running right next to you and all those "curves?" that are exploding out of your skin tight attire, are soon to fall off if you can run a little harder.
3) Parking lot - I can't run on terrain just yet. I have to stick to flat surfaces (says my PT for my hip) so I opted for a huge parking lot of an arena (high school football arena but we are in TX so trust me, it's huge). Make sure, if you can, that this parking lot is next to some apartments. That way you get so freakin paranoid that someone worth something is watching you. (yes, we are all worth something, I meant someone like oh, I dunno, Brad Cooper --I think that was the cute guy in that movie I watched this weekend).
4) Music - This music does not have to be fast or upbeat. Put the Ipod on shuffle and just keep moving. I prefer to run to Eminem, honestly but today I just let it shuffle. Shakira came on and I did a little dance move while I ran (only when out of view of the apts along the hedge line)...and it helped that her album cover is hot...as in sexy and yeah, what I'd give to have that body...I think at that point, I may have done my stint at sprinting...til it was over. John Mayer came on and well, he's my next ex-husband so of course I ran to his song, little slower, probably more like a Zone 2 AT (neen, laugh), Rod Stewart came on and I did a lunge walk....and had a visual of those mall walkers in Amarillo at Western Plaza, oh wait, Brad Cooper could be watching from that window, Khaki, you better run...c'mon look lik you do this all the time. Run the straights, walk the turns...shit, or did we always walk the straights, run the turns? :-D Use whatever song, sad, mad, happy, to keep you moving. I actually danced a little in my "run"....and for the record, and an hour and 11 minutes later, I stopped. Thank God one of my best friends left a bottle of water in the car. I don't care if it was a little warm.
And most of you know that I recently took my first spin class, right? Yeah, I hated it. It sucked. If my precious little sister thinks that riding a stationary bike going nowhere fast for an hour in a room full of triatheletes, while listening to some crappy music and walking bowl legged for 3 days is fun and watching me do this motivates her, I'll do it. I'll take one for the team. I love her. I do.
Now, let's meet JY, for the sake of anonymity, of course. JY is a new friend of mine. Actually, a friend of my sister's I met a few weeks ago. You ever met someone that has on no makeup and is absolutely beautiful and when they say something about looking like crap or not having any make-up on, you want to just punch them in the face? That's JY. She is smart, successful, gorgeous, fit, no kids, unmarried, etc. She's my skinny bitch friend. :-) We're going to hunt us down some gay male friends and force them to be our BFFs. At any rate, I've agreed to do this Warrior Dash (google it) with JY, JY's friend whom I have yet to meet but am meeting on Sunday, and my sister who is an endurance machine. JY posted lovely pics of her on a boat this weekend, wake boarding, in a bikini.....made me sick a lil bit actually.
You see, I really don't give a shit that the scale says I weigh 152lbs. I don't care that some obesity chart says I should weigh 129-132lbs. I really don't. I do care that my divorce diet is no longer working. This has to be a great sign for my mental/emotional health but not so much my eating. I did not get up to 324lbs by hating food, I will admit. Yes, I used to weigh 324lbs, about 7 yrs ago. I lost 172lbs of that in a year's time. Yes, I had my guts re-routed but also became a gym whore. I spent countless hours in the gym with an amazing workout buddy and a personal trainer. THEN, I had my first son....THEN 20 months after him, I had my twins. I'm well aware of what I need to do to get my body back in shape. It's sad that it took a divorce and my sister having a baby to really get motivated to do it though. Lol.
I remember when I first started working out and Eric (Michael J. Fox lookalike personal trainer) would put the treadmill on 15 minutes and I would just die. It was the longest 15 minutes of my life. Everyday I would bribe myself w/ something like 10 minutes in the hottub if you finish your 15 minutes. Of course, I got to where I would do over an hour on the treadmill, weight circuits, etc, and it was nothing. I very vividly remember laughing at myself and having a conversation w/ my workout buddy reminiscing when 15 mins of WALKING on the treadmill would kill us. I came a long way in a year.
I love sports. I've played sports and been an athlete all my life. Really, soccer, volleyball, whatever. My favorite sport is racquetball. Something about chasing that damn bouncy ball all over that court, hitting it as hard as you can when you do finally make contact with it.....LOVE IT...I suck and I don't know the rules but I can wear the outfit and pull it off. I even have a fancy racquet that would lead one to believe I know what the hell I'm doing. What does it matter, I get red-faced, sweaty, and crave water aferward so it's doing something, right? :-D (yes, I'm kidding)
So, agreeing to train w/ some marathoners and compete in some obstacle course thingy made me go for a nice run today. I'm the type of person that does what I say I'm going to do. If I say I'm going to train w/ you, I will. Yeah, my body hates my brain sometimes. I realized while I was on my lil journey that you don't need a fancy gym membership or a sleepless night of watching the P90X infomercial to get off your ass and do something. You need this:
1) Motivation: a SB for a friend that posts pictures of herself in a bikini to remind you you won't look like that ever but try to come close, an email conversation w/ an ex husband that went awry, some sibling rivalry, a bad day at work, an old photo of yourself at 324lbs, a recent photo caught at a bad angle (to which your friend that posted it hasn't responded to your request to delete yet), the simple desire to be healthy and fit, whatever the case may be.
2) Spandex - wear something skin tight, something with a little pinch to it just to serve as a reminder, little love tug, that if you run a little harder or push yourself a little longer, these pants might just fall off in a few months...I opted for black yoga pants and a black tank top. Make sure you go when the sun is out so that you can see your shadow cast on the pavement running right next to you and all those "curves?" that are exploding out of your skin tight attire, are soon to fall off if you can run a little harder.
3) Parking lot - I can't run on terrain just yet. I have to stick to flat surfaces (says my PT for my hip) so I opted for a huge parking lot of an arena (high school football arena but we are in TX so trust me, it's huge). Make sure, if you can, that this parking lot is next to some apartments. That way you get so freakin paranoid that someone worth something is watching you. (yes, we are all worth something, I meant someone like oh, I dunno, Brad Cooper --I think that was the cute guy in that movie I watched this weekend).
4) Music - This music does not have to be fast or upbeat. Put the Ipod on shuffle and just keep moving. I prefer to run to Eminem, honestly but today I just let it shuffle. Shakira came on and I did a little dance move while I ran (only when out of view of the apts along the hedge line)...and it helped that her album cover is hot...as in sexy and yeah, what I'd give to have that body...I think at that point, I may have done my stint at sprinting...til it was over. John Mayer came on and well, he's my next ex-husband so of course I ran to his song, little slower, probably more like a Zone 2 AT (neen, laugh), Rod Stewart came on and I did a lunge walk....and had a visual of those mall walkers in Amarillo at Western Plaza, oh wait, Brad Cooper could be watching from that window, Khaki, you better run...c'mon look lik you do this all the time. Run the straights, walk the turns...shit, or did we always walk the straights, run the turns? :-D Use whatever song, sad, mad, happy, to keep you moving. I actually danced a little in my "run"....and for the record, and an hour and 11 minutes later, I stopped. Thank God one of my best friends left a bottle of water in the car. I don't care if it was a little warm.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Sankofa and peacocks
Sankofa is actually a West African symbol that means learning from the past. This is also the symbol of my first tattoo coupled w/ a peacock feather. Peacock feathers represent pride, and by extension, nobility and glory. Peacocks are also known to eat poisonous plants with no ill effects, making their feathers a symbol of incorruptibility and immortality. The feathers are also rumored to come back stronger and prettier than before. My mom used to bring home peacock feathers from her work when we were kids. I thought they were pretty but never understood her infatuation with them. I've pretty much got it in my mind how I want the tattoo done. Now, I just need to talk to Charley and see if he comes up w/ a better design than the two I have. One of my bff's has a sankofa on her foot. It's going to be pretty and have a lot of meaning. Then I'll call up Braden, and we can arrange a time to go get it done.
Anyway, here's speaking of learning from the past...
Imagine that you are at a grocery store. You have a loaf of bread, bag of sugar, and a gallon of milk. Upon checkout the cashier tells you that your total is $312. You would be puzzled, right? Very much so. Well then he/she proceeds to tell you that you are paying for the prior person's groceries because they were unable. Doesn't make sense does it? Why do we/people in relationships make the next person pay for the prior person's short comings, mistrusts, inabilities, etc.? Simple to say, you shouldn't. So, as I go on the dates I've now sworn not to go on anymore....I realized I was holding back, not that any of them were of quality or had any spark anyway. I just assume that a guy that wants to go out with me is automatically going to be a moron like some of the crazy dates prior or worse, I'll fall head over heels in love and they'll hurt me/cheat on me like Kevin did. I should probably work on that. Right now, I just want as many friends as I can get. I'm really not bitter or lonely or sad. I'm in a happy place actually. I'm very.....content.
I'm going to be kid-free all of next week. It's the last big hoorah before school starts. What will a girl do? Oh yeah, that's right. She'll work.
Anyway, here's speaking of learning from the past...
Imagine that you are at a grocery store. You have a loaf of bread, bag of sugar, and a gallon of milk. Upon checkout the cashier tells you that your total is $312. You would be puzzled, right? Very much so. Well then he/she proceeds to tell you that you are paying for the prior person's groceries because they were unable. Doesn't make sense does it? Why do we/people in relationships make the next person pay for the prior person's short comings, mistrusts, inabilities, etc.? Simple to say, you shouldn't. So, as I go on the dates I've now sworn not to go on anymore....I realized I was holding back, not that any of them were of quality or had any spark anyway. I just assume that a guy that wants to go out with me is automatically going to be a moron like some of the crazy dates prior or worse, I'll fall head over heels in love and they'll hurt me/cheat on me like Kevin did. I should probably work on that. Right now, I just want as many friends as I can get. I'm really not bitter or lonely or sad. I'm in a happy place actually. I'm very.....content.
I'm going to be kid-free all of next week. It's the last big hoorah before school starts. What will a girl do? Oh yeah, that's right. She'll work.
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