Day Off At Work

Fingers hitting keyboards; some rattling and some tapping
Varying tones of ringing followed with pleasantries and laughing
Whispers in the break room and clunking heels down the hall
I am frozen in my seat, trying not to hear at all

The air conditioning’s cycle and the ding-dong of the door
The muffled stomping of the lawyers who are above pacing the floor
The fan inside my laptop and the “received” tone of the fax
Still I am motionless, oblivious to how many minutes I’ve let pass

Complaints about the coffee and loud talkers on the phone
The office slowly shrinking but staffing targets are dead on
What sales are at what stores and grandchildren stories from the women
I vent to fight my rising heart rate as this typing keeps me hidden

Attempt at Accountability

There was "Getting fine in 09," then "Staying Thin in 2010," now, after a broken foot and my last year of my masters degree... I've got 12 weeks to be beach ready.

Summer’s wedding is in 12 weeks…wedding as in El Dorado Royal Resort, bikinis and “flowy” tops and dresses that highlight any winter weight like a neon “SLOTS” sign at a truck stop. So, in light of looking my best I have a plan.

The Victoria’s “not much left of a” Secret Fashion show is tonight at 9. I made an excel sheet that is posted front and center in my office for my weight and measurements. Fake tanning lotion is on order and crest white strips are in tow.

I’m hoping that my pre wedding shopping will further encourage my weight loss/get fit plan. I already have a pair of shimmer shorts and a j crew linen top picked out that requires me to have slender limbs and a flat stomach.

So for the sake of a speedy jump into summer weight and accountability…no more tiramisu, fleur-di-lis pizza or…breathe…imported beer.

"Before" pic to come...eh.

Sigh...

God doesn’t call the qualified, He qualifies the called.


I have been reading this over and over realizing that it is time for a change.

It is time to not just say what I want to do, but time to do it.

I have been putting question marks where God put a period.

Before me

I am listening to music that he got from her.

He has nothing of hers and it makes me think of how many things I have given, left behind for the next girl to find.

She will need a bobby pin and I will have left it for her.

All I ever found was a cheap earring here or there, half used shampoo and random pictures.

I always wondered what women found behind me. What have I left behind?

Hair products, ticket stubs and birthday videos.

I have left memories and eventually, they will fade.

Whatever residence I held in someone’s heart, is either vacant or newly occupied.

How can I be “so different” and yet never “the one?”

I would love to think that I have not settled and I have not allowed anyone to do the same.

What about my Mr. Right? What have women left with him?

A standard for me to be compared to?

Memories of someone not as OCD, someone who drinks less or never gets jealous?

What I do know, is that I will never know what I have left behind.

 I just know that tonight I worked hard, the drive is long and looking out over the bayou makes me consider why God made me.

What Religion is Your Bra?

Omer walked into the ladies department of a Macy's and shyly walked up to the woman behind the counter and said, "I'd like to buy a bra for my wife, Anne-Mae."
"What type of bra?" asked the clerk.

"Type?" inquires Omer, "There's more than one type?"

"Look around," said the saleslady, as she showed a sea of bras in every shape, size, color and material imaginable.

"Actually, even with all of this variety, there are really only four types of bras to choose."

Relieved, Omer asked about the types. The saleslady replied:

"There are the Catholic, the Salvation Army, the Presbyterian, and the Baptist types. Which one would you prefer?"
Now totally befuddled, Omer asked about the differences between them.

The Saleslady responded, "It is all really quite simple... "

The Catholic type supports the masses.
The Salvation Army type lifts the fallen,
The Presbyterian type keeps them staunch and upright, and
The Baptist makes mountains out of mole hills.

Have you ever wondered why A, B, C, D, DD, E, F, G, and H are the letters used to define bra sizes?
If you have wondered why, but couldn't figure out what the letters stood for, it is about time you became informed!

(A} Almost Boobs...
{B} Barely there.
{C} Can't Complain!
{D} Dang!
{DD} Double dang!
{E} Enormous!
{F} Fake.
{G} Get a Reduction.
{H} Help, I've fallen and I can't get up!

7:50 am...liquid breakfast after a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week.

After a long vaca in Tupelo and a bubble wrapped cruise...Little D made it home.

Drinking, Dragging, Skinning, Drinking.

Thankful for a humble memory

I could not have asked for a better seat at graduation. Right in front I sat staring into the faces of sixty-nine students who had finally reached “the end that marks the beginning.” As I looked across the field at the bright faces I began to see anticipation and tears in the eyes of yesterday’s children and tomorrow’s leaders, or at least the next manager of the drive through daiquiri shop. As the ceremony continued I felt a sense of pride arise within me. “God I can’t wait to get out of here” was never a phrase that passed through my lips at that time, or during college, but I often see students confuse petty drama with the sometimes-tedious routine. If there were no school, or work for that matter, what would we go out on the weekends to celebrate freedom from?


As for Christina’s rule of law, starting something means nothing if you don’t finish it. Anything short of a whole hearted attempt is failure in my book. In today’s world, finishing school is not exactly the most difficult thing to do while it remains a necessity paradoxical to yesteryear’s lifestyle of leaving school to support your family. My solution is don’t start a family until God says to and if the one you were born into needs help, work nights.

I have always had a passion for education. I remember lining up my sister’s baby dolls  to teach, preach and sue them.

I will never forget the mixed emotions I felt that day. I was so proud and angry at the same time. There they were, all of my peers sitting in their caps and gowns when I should have had a seat with them. I realize now that it was not my fault that I was forced to endure circumstances that altered my life and personality forever. It is not my fault that I had to leave school to pay rent and buy food because my father and mother temporarily had different priorities. I am just thankful that there were people in my life to help me through it. I was given a second chance at life. When I came back to school, I had lost all credit for my junior year, but I was given the opportunity to try again. I was checking groceries 10 hours a day and stocking shelves 8 hours at night to make enough money to move back and go to school. No one felt sorry for me, and I can honestly say, I no longer did either.

I sat as the name was called that would have preceded mine, Hancock-my best friend. Then there was the silence where I would have been. But I was in the stands watching and finally thanking God that I had stopped regretting, blaming and successfully started over.

Pride was my companion throughout the day. My heart ached when I saw everyone hurling their caps into the sky. I softly said, “well, no” when parents questioned “wasn’t this your senior year?”

This was in fact the very best and worst ever experience of high school, and while I have countless  life altering mistakes and regrets on the books, this single day opened my eyes to a new life. I finally learned how to lay down my pain and get up without it. I had been lying hurt, bitterness, and resentment down on the altar for years; but I just couldn’t manage to leave it there.

There in those stands where I was actually somehow meant to be, I left my anger and tears Maybe I wasn’t ready for the real world yet. Maybe I had to reach a point in my life where I would not let anything or anyone hold me back so that I could break the generational curses of my family and reach God’s perfect place for me in this world.

Four years later, my parents would not watch me graduate from college, but for the first time in years, they both called to congratulate me, which was one of the first of many steps in mending the relationships within my family.
I was given a chance that many people will never be offered. I experienced a Christmas Carol sort of out of body experience; the ever so popular “blessing in disguise” routine. I got to hit pause and watch what life consists of when no one knows you’re watching. Life somehow needed to reschedule my appointment. So, from the depths of my heart, what I really mean to say is “thank you.”

May your accessories always harmonize with your natural beauty

So long, Lil' D

This was "little dodge" that rode around in my car with me. At Christmas, my little sister wanted to play with him because "he wanted to ride in the car with her." Sigh...I didn't have the heart to take him back...and now, i miss him.

Am I asking too much?

I am blessed. I am surrounded by people who love me, spoil me and listen when I need to talk. I have a grandmother that calls me "banjo eyes" just like her dad called hers-big, round and with every color eyes can be.. I have a nanna who emails me, saves every picture of me and tells me she is proud of me. I have a mother that accepts me and has never asked me to change, a father that has redeemed himself completely and taught me that all you can expect of family is the "best" they know.
I have a line of people who think I'm wonderful, even after they get to know me. I'm not terrible to look at, I love people and animals and God. I pray for others before myself and am actively trying to make my circle of good friends smaller, so I can devote myself to a few great ones. I am overwhelmingly hungry for life and I love even the bad days because they are gifts. I try not to be selfish, brag or complain and everyone knows my "hard ass" exoskeleton is only to shelter the heart that drops everytime a baby passes. The "tough-ie" Immediately shatters and falls the first time we share a hug or a beer. I don't love being waited on hand and foot, but respect the person who may try from time to time.
I just want one thing.
I have made pointless list upon list for the perfect man.
I have pro and con-ed my way through tons of "Mr. Might and Maybe's."
I have loved, lusted, lied, cried and cheated.
Sexy, talented, athletic, artistic and hilarious have all kissed me.
But since I was seven, the single most important thing I want has not changed.
I asked my first kiss, date and love. I've begged my short terms, and gave up on the commiters after realizing that someone would have to WANT to give me this one thing.
I realize this must be annoyingly all about "me me me" but that is exactly what it is. What I actually want from someone else that I can ask for, wish for, but only hope comes with the package of my "Mr. Right."
I have for the better part of 27 years only thought consistently of this one unchanging thing that will make me happy. It doesn't have to come now. It doesn't even have to be soon.
I want someone to pray with me and tell me a story before I go to bed for the rest of my life. So, sincerely sighing, I honestly want to know...Am I asking too much.

This one is for me and the girls

So, my mother is on this Goodwill binge where she shops their daily and calls to update my sister and I on what “great deals” she finds. I however, couldn’t even find accessories for my grease monkey mechanic Halloween costume.


Regardless…I went to Lafayette this past weekend and found myself near a Goodwill store, so I decided to go in to rummage through the records (my new hobby since I got the antique record player). With eight records in hand from Bette Mitler to UFO, I came across a purple silk Victoria’s Secret top on a manikin with TAGS ON IT…I ripped it off like I expected one of the frumpy looking shoppers to challenge me for an XXS silk cami.

I approached the counter and stumbled into a skinny mini tweener with an arm full of tops that had tags hanging off of them. As to not divert too much attention, I went to the opposite end of the isle as her and worked her way, to avoid going behind her only to find what she had already picked over. Within the 6 feet of isle I covered, I had already collected enough banana republic, Ann Taylor and BCBG to make my adrenaline start pumping. I slyly grabbed a basket and made a plan. I would start in one corner of the store and cover it entirely. I couldn’t help but think of how I have been feeling sorry for myself because “everyone else” gets to shop all of the time and I have “The Mortgage.” Well, not today.

I would leave the store with tons of tops, skirts, blazers and even a pair of J Crew classic chinos. The 300.00 St John twill Jacket with oversized buttons that I snagged, had a dry cleaning tag for 25.00 attached to the sleeve right next to the Goodwill “reduced 7.99” sticker. I am assuming that these people have no idea what they have in inventory for a slim girl with conservative taste, but I’m sure the gasp I let out when I checked out was some indication. “Your total is $129.00.”

As I handed the saleswoman most of the cash I had withdrawn from the ATM for my weekend away, I realized that complaining just slows down the time that is passing until you unexpectedly catch a break.

So, in my new outfits and "staple" tops, I just say "thank you" when they are complimented; and when someone wants in on one of my new looks, I just respond that I picked it up in "just some little shop in Lafayette."

Not much has changed

Her stories always began with “Once upon a time” and inevitably there was always a little boy and a little girl-walking home from school more often than not. In her stories there was a mother and a father, a Nickel and Dime store, which I imagined with wood floors and candy jars, and a small family dog. Some of them were about dresses and some about buying candy, but they all ended living happily ever after with a quick pause interrupted by her familiar sweet voice-“ the end.”

When my sister and I were little, we shared my Aunt Tangea’s bedroom. She was my father’s little sister and we had grown up hearing how much more spoiled she was than him.

I never fell asleep after “the end” but my sister always did. Even at 5 I remember thinking that maybe she had a clearer head than I did because I would lay awake every night covering every topic I possibly could in an inescapable compulsion to figure out something I may have missed before. I am still an avid scenario generator.

Cheryl always got to wear maw maw’s robe, it was green. Not a pretty soft green or spring time Kelly, but an outdated pea green with a missing button and the piping that was just a shade lighter. However aesthetically displeasing; it was hers.

The smell of my grandparents’ home was overwhelmingly inviting. It smelled of fabric softener, Bryll cream, and Chap Stick. The bathrooms smelled of almond cherry lotion and mouthwash. The water had an unforgettable smell, tinted yellow and so soft you could never rinse the shampoo out. I remember that few of the towels matched, but all were thin and soft.

Their carpet was brown shag and perfect for playing putt-putt in the hallway. Their TV was the large wooden cabinet kind with the extra channel box sitting on top so we could watch Nickelodeon, but had to get up to change the channel.

My grandmother used to ask me to help her clean out her cabinets every time she called to check on us. It was quite the event. We would cover the floor in clean sheets and wash our hands, then unload them one at a time just to stack them back up. It made me feel important, like I was the only one that could help her organize things like she wanted. I remember graduating to the pantry, then my job became much specialized, being sure that all of the green bean cans faced forward and the diet cokes stacks remained steady.

In my life I have rarely felt safe. I have continually been plagued by restless nights and daily anxiety and until last night when I dreamt about a specific night when I was taking a long bath listening to Norah Jones singing “Don’t know why,” did I remember that the last time I truly felt safe was in the bed beside my sister and Raggedy Ann in my grandparent’s house.

Nothing taste as good as looking HOT feels

I am not a fan of fad diets or wasting my time reading books about what foods I should eat to live longer. I am a fairly healthy person, but I do have a hidden love affair with bar food. There is nothing like a plate of nachos at 2 am. However, in an effort to grab the proverbial reins of my life, I have decided to try some new things.

I just started Isagenix. I ordered the box months ago and it never made it farther than the trunk of my car. I finally decided to open it yesterday and inside I found some pretty intense and very intimidating information. The first step is to measure all of your body parts and add up your “total inches.” My total inches are 283.75; however, I’m sure without my Victoria’s Secret push up, I would have a significantly lower total.

So I had two days of “pre-cleansing” where I had a sensible meal and snack and two shakes. The Vanilla shake taste more like a stale cinnamon roll and the wild berry cleaning drink taste exactly like watered down robitussin. BUT, to my excitement, a bottle of “snacks” were included. I unscrewed the cap and ripped out the cotton to find white wafers that look like industrial strength Tums. They smelled like cake icing so I went for a little cheat of a nibble. To my dismay, they were probably the worst product in the box coming in just past the “natural accelerator” supplement pills that taste like my pee smells after I have too much asparagus. It’s wonderful.

So, I am 2 pounds down in one day…I am trying to continue to cautiously embrace this Cleansing, but really…all this may do is make me hate life.

Ps, I am going to the LSU game AND the Saints game this weekend. Great fun you would think right? I did too until I read the tiny little green “success tip” box which read “Cleanse days are a good time to reduce and eliminate any caffeine, alcohol and/sugar consumption.” Really? This is day 2 of a 9 day process.

My apologies if you are unfortunate enough to encounter my harsh mood if I continue on this borderline starvation plan.

My favorite little secret

I've been know to be a "johnny hard ass" and yet I cry during horror films. Regardless-I wanted to share a little known fact about me. Since my hospital stay after an auto accident last August, I have not slept alone. I am completely co-dependant upon my bulldog shredder. He was a gift and only leaves my bed when i take him to travel or my dog Dodge steals him away. He was made by TY and I love him...and the thing is-for some reason, It's not that embarassing anymore.

Just a few confessions

1. I can't go anywhere without my cell phone. I am convinced it keeps my heart beating.
2. I want children, but the older i get...the longer i want to wait
document.
3. Fear of Commitment should have been written on my birth certificate
4. I have every journal i have ever written in since i was six
5. I have broken up with a guy for having bad feet.
6. I love to read but rarely finish a book
7. Crown Royal and Redi Whip are basic necessities of life.
8. I hate any kind of daiquiri
9. I kissed one of my professors
10. It is extremely hard for me to say I'm Sorry
11. I have never been scared of the dark
12. I'm alergic to latex.
13. I only own push up bras
14. I can't finish a drink. Litterally, not a bottle of water, a can of coke or even the bottom of a beer-im blaming OCD
15. I pray almost every day
16. When someone is wearing something terrible, i email a detailed description to my friends list
17. I am not very coachable-i have too much pride
18. I run faster than most boys i know
19. I have never been tan-orexic or bleached my hair...i should probably be in a museum
20. I don't care that i have a "dirty mouth"
21. My feelings get hurt when my cat doesn't sleep by me
22. I am in NO way a morning person
23. I'm a compulsive nail biter-i just can't shake it
24.I dont think red heads should ever wear red
25. I think cigarettes make girls look a little trashy, but i love to smoke cigars
26. I play 7 instruments but am a much better singer.
27. I only shave my legs every few weeks...i don't really grow hair.
28. I hate lipstick.
29. I have a Mr. Potato Head, Gumby, Pokey and a sling shot monkey in my desk.
30. I rarely lock the door when i go into restroom stalls.