Friday, June 10, 2016

Quick thoughts before my road trip.

I was scrolling through my Instagram feed this morning, and came across a girl posing in her 10 year old prom dress, and telling one of those truly sad prom stories, something to the effect that she was asked to prom by her current boyfriend, Mr. Popular, she bought the dress, was all excited, and then heard that the guy intended to dump her and ditch her at prom for another girl. And that she had been hanging on to the dress all this time, with this dream that she would meet Mr. Right and they would dance the night away, and life would be sweet. She didn't talk about the fact that she looked damn good in the dress, that she has thousands of Instagram followers who she empowers and lifts up everyday, that the guy from that long ago prom could kiss her curvy white ass.

Now, I understand this may have been an instance of "see, I have those sad, I wish I was a princess with a prince" moments, too", but it didn't read that way to me. I read feelings of unworthiness and dejection in that post, and I wanted to wrap this 28 year old girl in my arms and tell her, "dude! wake up! you are fabulous! and you don't need any man to tell you that!" Phew, I'm glad I'm not 28 anymore.

My friend, we'll call her Jennifer, because I have 100 Jennifers in my life, and let's face it, Jennifers are some of the smartest people in the world; so, Jennifer says something wonderful every time I start to get down on myself about something - I'm a bad mom, I failed yet another diet, I missed boot camp last week, I'm lazy, blah blah blah. She has said it here, she has commented on Facebook, and, my favorite, she has grabbed my arm and yelled it at me in person, "Hey! Be nice to my friend!"

I love that. Because, I really try to be a good friend. I love my friends; they lift me up, make me want to be a better person, let me be me, even when I think I'm being annoying. And I try to say good things, and caring things to my friends. And, as I've reached my 4th decade, I've (finally) started to realize, these amazing, caring people wouldn't love an asshole.

Maybe I'm not thin and gorgeous, maybe I'm not as healthy as I want to be (although, I'm working), maybe I am not the mom I wish I was, and yes, I really wish I had finished my degree and maybe was writing a book or doing something amazing and world-changing right now.

Part of my job involves reading obituaries - I process memorial donations, and I pair the appropriate obituaries with the donations to make sure they are acknowledged correctly. It can be a little sad, of course, but often it makes me smile. I've read a lot of obituaries for people who lived long, beautiful, lives full of love and laughter. Their obituaries talk about their humor and their generosity of spirit, never how much money they had, or beautiful house, or their highest degree. They are people I wish I had the privilege of knowing. It makes me realize, even if I don't finish that degree, I can be that person that, at the end of my life, inspires someone to write about the fact that I made them smile. That I was full of love and kindness, with a bawdy sense of humor, and a huge "Read" list on Goodreads.

Your mission today? Go out and do a kindness for someone. And then,turn around and do a kindness for yourself. Tell yourself the things you tell your friends. Treat yourself like your best friend. And know, if I catch you saying something bad about yourself, I am going to yell at you, "Be nice to my friend!" Because I love you, and I don't love assholes.

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Remember my dirty little secret?

You know, the dirty little secret right in front of my house, in plain sight of all, that I published here on the blog, and on Facebook?

You know, the beds in front of my house?
This is the first house I've lived in, since I was old enough to know anything about living in a house. I was pretty freaking excited to do stuff outside when I moved in here, and I did lots of stuff - but my thumb is not so green. In fact, it's pretty freaking brown - I can make it grow...and then it dies.
Then, I started working full time, and I really have never figured out how to make time work for me. 

I'm also rather lazy.

So things got out of hand. My brother and I (with a small amount of help from my son) started pulling weeds and digging up the beds about a month ago. I had a mountain of mulch delivered today, expecting to work on it this week...and just take a look at what I came home to:

heeheeheeheeheeheehee! I'm so happy!
My brother even got my kids to help! I came home from work and happily finished spreading to the dulcet tones of Licensed to Ill (the music any self-respecting landscaping homeowner landscapes to.) I'm fairly certain there was something horrible growing in there, as all of us have some itchy spots. The burning bushes and the lilac need trimming, and there is still a pear stump in the ground at the end, looks so nice!
Here, just in case you need to do any gangsta landscapin'...

Happy Tuesday!

Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Happy birthday to me!

I love my birthday. I've told you all before, I'm sure. Every birthday is a chance to celebrate the fact that I survived another year. And this past year has been a great one - full of wonderful friends and family, a job that I continue to grow into, celebrations, great books and amazing conversations. So, yes, I love my birthday, and I spend the day before telling people it's going to be my birthday, to ensure happy birthday wishes. I know it's silly, but I occasionally like to have a fuss made over me. I love presents and people actually going out of their way to make me happy.

Today I worked with my favorite work people. I brought mounds of birthday treats and forced my coworkers to celebrate with me. I got fun cards, a birthday donut, and a birthday SHRUBBERY!

This evening, my people and I went to City BBQ for some delightful brisket. I love brisket! I do not love skinny boys and their guitars and trucker caps playing country music. Loudly. At the City BBQ. City BBQ is not a place for live music. Specifically loud, poorly performed country music. He played Devil Went Down to Georgia. How can you even play that without a fiddle and keep your self-respect, for crying out loud?

Something interesting - my brother and I spent many hours on the front beds on Monday, and they are almost completely free of weeds. I planted another shrubbery(!) and a lavender plant. I just need to break up all the massive clay clumps, and smooth out the beds, and spread mulch...and that is making me tired just typing that. If you are feeling the need to destroy big clumps of clay, please come on over. You can use my tools. You can even use my gloves. Apparently, there was something growing in those beds that caused some sort of contact dermatitis, as I have itchy spots on my arms. It's awesomely sexy.

On a serious note - do you have any songs that you love so much they make your heart hurt? There are several for me - but this one, always:

Someday I would really love to learn to play this on the guitar. You know, once I learn to play the guitar.

Other than my birthday(!), this week has not been awesome, as I cannot seem to sleep, and that's just not fun. I do not boot camp on 4 hours of sleep. So I haven't been boot camping, either. Don't judge me, guys, I will be back, I just need to get some sleep. In fact, I'm going to finish this tea and then I'm going to bed.