Aspirations

I would just like to use today's NaBloPoMo post to point out how very proud I am of my son. He's preparing for his belt test mid-term, which is approaching in a couple of weeks, and he has really shown determination in learing all the new material for this cycle. Not that I am surprised.

Lately, I've been missing some of his Taekwondo classes for various reasons. Once per week, his class starts before I can make it home from work. Twice per week, his classes are at a time when I should really be home preparing dinner. There's also another reason for me missing the classes...

Over Labor Day Weekend, I had a falling out with his best friend's mother. It was fueled by alcohol and insecurities (hers) and she lashed out at me with a venom that I'd never in my life had directed at me before. I won't get into the gritty details, but as I've rehashed the scene over and over in my head, tried to look at things objectively, tried to see where she was coming from in her attack, I simply cannot see it. The worst of it all was not that she was so ugly to me, but that she chose a moment, as we were leaving and taking Boy Pop home, to say venemous things about my child. Untrue things. Things he could hear. She semi-apologized for the event, but she never apologized for the things she said about my child within his earshot.

Her son, my son's best friend, is in the class immediately following Boy Pop's on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I have neither seen nor spoken to this woman since that moment, in the wee hours of the morning of September 5th. I have also not forgiven her. The thought of seeing her makes my skin crawl and makes me start shaking a little. I get this sick feeling in my gut.

They say that to forgive is divine. I'm not so sure. If someone brings harm to you or those you love, how do you forgive that? How do you forgive someone who is seemingly unrepentant? I have always had a difficult time with forgiveness. I dwell on it. I stew in it. I think it is such a natural part of my existence now that I don't know how to live without that chip on my shoulder. Ultimately, though, it makes me less of a happy and involved person.

So it is time. Not to mend fences with this person or forgive her bile, but to stop dwelling on her hatefulness. It is time to stop letting her affect my life. It is time to stop letting my fear of what might happen should I run into her ruin my ability to be present in my child's activities.

It is time to let go of a lot of things that poison my soul, actually. It is time to live up to my own aspirations and start behaving like the wife, mother, person I think I am.

One More Completely Different Thing...

Is it just me, or is it completely annoying and irksome when you reach out to a friend multiple times with no response? Not even an, "I'm really busy right now."

Seems to happen more and more often these days.

I suppose every now and then we reevaluate friendships based on where we are at certain points in our lives, but knowing that fact and possibly being on the receiving end of that reevaluation doesn't make it less painful or easier to take.

Living in the Shallow End Some Days

It seems my days lately are filled to the brim with work, t-ball, Tae Kwon Do, dinner, laundry, and the like. I used to update this blog on an almost daily basis and now I consider it a victory if I can make it a weekly thing. Looking at the date of my last post, I even failed at that. The busier my real life gets, the more my writing and escape hatch suffers. Oh well.

Last week, my friend Jessica posted my blog about facebook and girlfriends on her facebook page. I received more hits on my blog in one day than I had the entire month before. Thanks Jess! That was really cool. I was pretty honored that a woman who does pretty well for herself by writing actually thought my little story was good. You’d think with that kind of press and all those new people, I could have updated, huh? You’d be wrong. I can't even download pictures to my computer!

I have approximately eleven million pictures on my digital camera that require downloading, backing up, and uploading to facebook, Kodak Gallery, and here. It’s sort of overwhelming. Plus, when I went to my parents’ house for Easter, I found a proverbial gold mine of old photos, including my wedding pictures. I now have all my wedding pictures in digital format. It’s pretty awesome. And we are about to add to the masses of photos pretty soon.

Dr Pop, Boy Pop, and I have planned a trip to Mazatlan for Memorial Day weekend. It will be the first time we have taken Boy Pop with us to Mexico. I am pretty excited about it, but of course, all this brou-ha-ha about the swine flu has put a bit of a black cloud over everything. I seriously doubt that all the deaths in Mexico that they “suspect” to be related to this new illness are truly the swine flu. It’s just a hunch. We don’t want to cancel our trip, but we don’t want to get sick, either. Oh well, we have a month…

Speaking of, over on the right hand side, I have a link to my workout blog. To tell you the truth, I rarely update it anymore (I mean, c’mon! I don’t update *this* blog often, so why would I update a secondary one more?). It’s fairly seasonal. I get all gung-ho and start working out around February or March, to prepare for our annual pilgrimage to a Mexico beach in May. This year, we took our trip at the end of February, so my workout timing got all screwed up. And my typical modus operandi is to work out like a fiend up until the trip, then not do a whole helluva lot the rest of the year. Healthy? No. The right thing to do? Doubtful. But it is what it is. And this year has been no exception. So I’ve been sitting on my ass (read, toting my boy to t-ball and martial arts and cooking dinner and everything else) and not working out.

*Embarrassing confession alert!* Imagine my surprise when I got on the scale the other day and it was about 10 pounds heavier than it should have been! I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was! So yesterday, I finally got off my butt and got it running. I am terribly sore today. But I’m motivated. And motivation is key. We never do anything without proper motivation. Working out is no exception. Two things motivate me to exercise: The thought of being in a bikini and the thought that I might run into someone I dislike when I'm not looking my best.

It's a girl thing, I think. You know what I'm talking about ladies, right? For me, it is always being "on" if I think that there is a chance that I might run into someone I don't like when I'm out and about. I know it is shallow. Jen Lancaster wrote about this on her blog a while ago, before her book Such A Pretty Fat came out and it really hit home. Having a nemesis is motivational sometimes. They don’t even have to know that they are motivating you. For me, it just won’t do to have this particular chica be in better shape than me. So when I feel myself slipping, I remind myself that I could be embarrassed should our paths cross.

Whatever works. Although, when I posted on twitter that I was running instead of doing Turbo Jam and did that count? Someone actually replied to me that of course it did and I should gradually up my intensity. It was so cute. They have obviously never read anything I’ve ever written before and didn’t know that I was being sort of sarcastic and that my question was rather rhetorical. Oh well. I thought it was sweet.

I definitely have more to say, but I just cannot form sentences at the moment. My sales quarter at work is going to end in three and a half days. I’d better focus on closing some of my outstanding deals instead of writing more.

One of those days... Friday Confession.

If you ask Dr Pop, I'm not a very good listener sometimes and I don't have the best memory of events. And he's right (some of the time). But there are other times and instances when I do listen and my memory is dead-on.

I wish I could control it better.

Yesterday was one of "those" days. I was in a "mood" and felt rotten. I got a speeding ticket. I had to go to the dentist. My house was a mess. It was "day 2" (which is something I'd never heard about until recently, but now that I think about it, makes perfect sense -- Day 2 is the second day of, well, you know, and is supposedly the worst of the month hormonally -- after careful reflection, day 2 affects me). Yesterday was especially harsh.

Dr Pop, bless his heart, realized that something was wrong, but I couldn't verbalize it. It did finally dawn on me what was wrong, but I still cannot verbalize it. I don't want to and I've let it go. It just took cleaning out and organizing some cabinets, washing dishes, and cleaning out the fridge to get it out of my system.

It's amazing what cleaning your home will do for your soul. It's therapeutic and it burns calories! And the end-result isn't bad, either. I just wish I had clicked and had been better company last night.

Friday Confession

I have been up until 1AM every night this week... Therefore, I have overslept every morning this week. Because of this, I am very tired. I blame the Olympics!

Watching all the gymnastics and swimming over the past several days, I have felt more than a little, how shall I put this? Umm, grotesque. Large. Ungainly.

Forget the fashion industry, putting 68-pound 16-year olds* on a pedestal as an ideal is terrible for one's self-image.

*We all, of course, know that those Chinese girls are SO NOT 16!

Friday Confession

This morning, my co-worker brought in his 15-month-old daughter because they had childcare issues. I spent about 20 minutes with her in my lap. She is a precious and precocious little girl! And the small-world connection is that her mommy is a sorority sister of mine. It was fun to talk baby-talk to a toddler again.

Confession? I was happy and relieved when her daddy took her back. I sort of expected to start wanting another baby after spending some time with this sweetie. Instead, I was glad to be done with that stage.

Crazy stuff.

Friday Confession

Don't talk to me while I pee.

Don't talk to me while you pee.

Don't talk on your cell phone in the bathroom stall. If you do, then I'll make sure to be extra loud.

M'kay?

Friday Confession

My toenails have been "naked" since Tuesday evening.

I've been wearing sandals and flip flops with almost no qualms.

It's very liberating!

But I think I'll polish them this weekend. ;)

Friday Confession

I just called to cancel my hair appointments through December of this year. Quitting a stylist after 12 years was harder than I thought it would be.

I'm shaking.

But it is for the best. I didn't get personal. I listed out my appointment dates and times, and said that I wanted to cancel them because for the past several years we have been dealing with the horrible condition of my hair and breakage of it. I said that I only used the services and products that he recommended and it is not working. I said that it is time that I try something new to fix it.

Whew. It is for the best.

Bonus Friday Confession

I have two today... Lucky you...

I spend way too much time dwelling on the people who have wronged me, waiting for them to get their bite in the ass from Karma. It never comes. Usually, while I'm obsessing about that, something else bad happens in my life or I get bitten in the ass instead.

Perhaps it's time for a strategy change, but damn! I'm sick and tired of good and wonderful things happening to bad people!!! Especially when I see the good ones struggle.

Friday Confession

I couldn't hold out for very long on the little "break" from my blog...

I'm not sure, though, how much longer I can do this. I have been censoring myself more and more lately and it sucks. I have so many rants cooped up inside me that I feel like I might explode.

Dr Pop thinks I have enough material in here to produce a book and isn't that what all the cool kids are doing these days? Everywhere I turn, some blogger has a book deal and is selling their "memoirs" to Random House.

Maybe it is crippling insecurity and fear of rejection when it comes to writing, but the idea that someone would pay to read about the mundane ins and outs of my life is absolutely ridiculous!

Perhaps if I turned it into a work of fiction... Hmmm...

Friday Confession

I'll admit it.

I do not understand suicide.

I understand depression.

What I do not get, however, is how anyone could possibly be so selfish? How any person could leave the people who love them most in the world to clean up the mess? To live with the pain? To forever ask "Why?" and "Why not live?"?

I guess I've been fortunate enough to have never been close enough to that type of depression. But I have a very hard time finding any emotion other than anger at someone who would take his/her own life.

I just found out that my friend and her family are going through just such an aftermath. Please join me in my prayers that the family can find peace in such a terrible thing.

Friday Confession

I have nothing to confess except that I'm at a loss for words lately.

No big deal, no grand reason. I just don't feel like writing much right now.

Friday Confession

Again.

I need a pedicure. Not one of those $100 spa jobs, just a good, old-fashioned cheapo one would do the trick. Plus, they last longer anyway (probably because they don't coat your toenails with quite so much oil and lotion).

Backing up a bit, I'm a bit of a foot snob. I believe that if one is going to wear sandals or flip flops and expose one's toes to the rest of the world, it is respectful and proper and essential to make for damn sure that they are groomed properly. Exfoliate the dead skin. Push the cuticles back. Slather on some good lotion. Keep the nail polish fresh and chip-free.

I've actually posted quite a bit on the topic both here and at the "Stilettos" site.

This is the first year that I have shamefully not followed my own advice.

Shameful!

Back in my single days, I would draw a bubble bath every Thursday night and just soak to relieve the stress of the week. This would be the time I would give myself a complete pedicure as well. I would use a foot scrub, push back the cuticles, take out my foot file and get after the bottom of my feet, and really go to town. Later, I would polish my toenails and apply the fast-drying topcoat and cuticle oil.

My Thursdays were one part "end of the week" ritual and one part weekend prep.

I've also always, for as long as I can remember, kept a foot file and/or good quality scrub in my shower for those between times. I still do have the scrub, but my foot file needs to be replaced.

But the bottom line is that I've fallen off the wagon and even though I'm wearing flip flops today (and sandals all week), my toenail polish is woefully chipped and my toes need some attention.

Again... Shameful!

Friday Confession

Hey Sue, I'm back and ready to confess!

Ever since my son was born, we've had a maid come either every week or every other week, with only a few exceptions. Back in January, my maid left to go to work for one of those cleaning services. I decided that I'd save the money each week and just go ahead and clean the house myself.

I did a really good job of it, if I do say so myself, especially when you consider the fact that I do have a full-time job and a full-time four year old. I scrubbed, I mopped, I dusted, I vacuumed. Each week. Mostly.

Two days before we left for our vacation, I decided that it was of upmost importance that we come home to a clean house, so I spent a lot of time after work cleaning the place.

We came home last weekend and I have not cleaned since.

This past Wednesday, Dr Pop and I discussed hiring someone again. I'd been reluctant because it is really hard to find someone who is good AND is honest and won't steal from us. After all, I'd had a maid steal cash from my son's piggy bank.

I bit the bullet and called up the maid who left in January to ask for her help. Mainly, I wanted her to recommend someone. Well, she offered herself up.

I want to be able to do it all and not spend the cash to do something I should be able to do. But I have limits and I've hit the proverbial wall.

She starts Monday.

I could not be happier.

Friday Confession

Yes, I know it is Thursday!

There will be no Friday confession tomorrow or the next Friday.

I confess that I will be way too busy sipping on adult beverages, gorging on lovely food, and spending entirely too much time in the sun and sand to bother with it.

Suckas! ;-)

Behave yourselves while I'm gone!

Love,
Mrs. Pop

P.S. Karly? Remember that you promised to wait until I get back to go see SATC!

P.P.S. If you can't wait to go see it, I'll understand.

Friday Confession

Once again, another confession.

I'm a stingy snob.

I have absolutely NO problem buying discount items. I love Wal-Mart and Target. I get great finds at teeny-bopper stores for my fun "trendy" clothes. I shout it from the rooftops, even. Like those pants I picked up from the Old Navy clearance rack for $7.00... I love sharing a good buy.

Just the other day, I went to this terribly tacky store at the mall, who has clothes designed for and marketed to high school girls. I have found some of the cutest sundresses and tops there for very little money.

On Wednesday, I found two perfect sundresses for my upcoming trip to Mexico. One cost $17.99 and the other was $18.99.

The thing is, I love fashion. I love shopping and browsing and taking my time and trying on lots of clothes. I adore Neiman Marcus and Betsey Johnson and Nordstrom. I love expensive brands. I love quality.

But I hate letting go of my money. Especially for things that I consider frivolous. Sure, that Betsey Johnson sundress is fabulous and would be perfect for a beach setting. But the day I pay $400+ dollars for a dress that will be out of fashion the instant I wear it once is the day you might as well shoot me. So if I can find something cute and trendy and cheap, then I'm totally IN.

Here's where the snob factor comes in... Shoes and purses are my downfall... I cannot bring myself to buy "cheap" purses or shoes most of the time (the exception would be sandals/flip flops). I tried to buy this cute and bright little clutch at Target the other day and I could not bring myself to put it in my cart. I couldn't stand the way the non-leather felt in my hand. It skeeved me out, to tell you the truth. I really wanted this purse, but I simply could NOT make my hand drop it into my cart. It's like there was a short in my nervous system or something.

So there you have it. I'm stingy and snobby all at the same time.

Friday Confession

Because Sue keeps telling me to do this!

I am starting to find it difficult to do this each week. I suppose it's because I live a boring old life down here in Texas. Or maybe it's because some of the things I'd like to confess would cause me way too much embarrassment. I'm not big on willfully humiliating myself.

I have not kept in touch with the people I went to high school with. Every now and then I'll trade emails with one or two people I considered to be my friends, but for the most part, the whole not keeping in touch thing has been on purpose. I was one of *those* people. By that, I mean, I never truly ever fit in with any particular group or had a large circle of friends growing up. I had maybe three or four people I could consider my true friends along the way, but that was it. I wasn't in any clique and often felt myself excluded. It was torture to me at the time as only not being popular in your teens can be.

Before you start to feel sorry for me (yeah, right), I must admit that I was completely awkward. I put my foot in my mouth at almost every turn and was a walking target for mean people. Mainly because I made myself one. I had knobby knees, was too skinny for my own good, clumsy both socially and physically, and my hair! Oh, my hair! If I got off my lazy ass, I'd scan in some pictures from that time, but let me just use my power of description:

8th Grade -- Long, brown, permed hair with the triangle bangs. You know the ones. The ones that make you look like a poodle. My hair was so frizzy that we look at the pictures now and call me Roseanne Rosanadanna.
9th Grade -- Shorter hair, still permed, slightly lighter, better bangs.
10th Grade -- Chin-length, bleach-frosted hair. Dark roots.
11th Grade -- Shorter-than-chin length, "stacked" hair in the back (i.e. graded buzz). Blonde, but not like last year!
12th Grade -- Still frosting my hair, but also reverse-frosting to get a more "natural look" regularly. Below chin, but layered. My mom said it looked like my hair was a hat.

But I digress. My point was that I didn't fit in, no matter how much I wanted to. And OH! I wanted to so badly! I joined groups and clubs, hosted parties when my parents were out of town, got a beer and vodka connection, went out, lied about where I was going, and was completely friendly. I made lots of mistakes and I won't talk about them here. I still suffer from some of the emotional scars caused by my own stupidity and desire to fit in.

It's been quite some time since I was in high school. It took years, but I've finally grown into the person I was always meant to be. I still don't have a huge clique or large network or friends, but the ones I do have? They will be with me for life.

Every now and then, I log onto Classmates, though, and look. I want to see what those who were mean to me are up to now. And secretly? I hope for the worst. I hope karma got the best of them.

Sometimes, I'm just not that nice of a person on the inside. And sometimes, I'm 14 again. Just wanting to fit in.

Friday Confession

And another...

This one is short, but sweet.

Today, after lots of insanity at my office, I confess that I am just happy to have a job. Some of my friends don't anymore.

Friday Confession

Still managing to do this thing.

May 18, 2001 was the final day of the two week notice I'd given at my then-place of employement. I finished packing up my cubicle, handed my manager my badge, and walked through the doors of the company with what was the biggest smile I'd had in a good six months on my face. It was a good feeling.

The moment I got in my car, closted the door, and turned on the ignition, I screamed at the top of my lungs, "Goodbye Fuckers! I'm done! I'll never set foot in this place again!!! Whoooo!!!!!!!"

I'd been going through a rough patch and was very happy to leave at the time. My manager wasn't supportive, I was burned out, and everyone knew it because I made no secret of my feelings.

Know where I'm going with this yet?

Today marks the three year anniversary of my return to the same company I left in 2001.

Coming back was a lesson in not saying the word "never" anymore and in not burning bridges. You just never know. Not only did I WANT to come back to this place, but I was worried that it might not happen based on my earlier performance. Lucky for me, most people remembered me fondly and the ones who didn't? Well let's just say they could no longer influence my job.