Look, I left the house

Me and some buddies on Saturday night. Like I told my best-friend cousins, it feels good to see a picture of myself and not cringe. I know that sounds horrible and like I have no self-esteem, but I used to weigh 175 pounds and had very short hair. Now, I like short hair on women and some liked it on me. But I do feel prettier with longer hair. I still want to lose some more weight and I'd like for my forehead to not have that weird v-shaped vein but what can you do? Regardless, like I said, it's nice to see a picture of myself taken impromptu without cringing and hoping it gets lost.

The Simple Life

Now that I'm all mentally stable, and can actually observe and think and remember - I mean, it's really fascinating how my memory is coming back. I will be talking making conversation and all of a sudden something I didn't know I remembered will come back. It's fun (mostly)!

Anyway - now that I can DO all those things again I'm able to sort through the different layers of life and see them for what they are instead of what I perceived them to be through a cloud of mania and defensiveness. Not that I'm old or anything, but now that I'm getting older I really appreciate the very simple things in life, or rather the way they make me feel. I've always been pretty down to earth but now - I don't know how to explain it, it's just now I really grasp what I enjoy, and not just because I don't have any money to do anything else. I like going outside and getting sweaty and dirty, and then taking a hot shower and getting all clean. It makes me feel like I'm a little kid again. I like going for walks and watching the sunset and baking. I like my hot cup of coffee in the morning. I like singing and art and writing and here's the best thing - I no longer feel like I have to be The World's Best at those things to do them. Before, it was like I thought.. "Well, I'm not fantastic at this, this or this so I'm just going to tuck it away because there's no point." What a lame way to think! Who cares if I'm great at it or not, it's part of what makes me, me.

I realize that my job doesn't define who I am or say that I'm a loser because it's not what I want to do. It's just something to pay the bills and I need to do it well and get there every day. I realize that I like for my house to be clean but that it's no big deal if it isn't. I realize that I really don't feel good or enjoy my time if I'm sleeping so much. I realize I don't need as much sleep as I was getting - and that Saturdays are a lot more fun spent doing anything, as long as there's a nap thrown in there somewhere. Hey, napping is part of who I am too! And I realize that maybe some mistakes I made or things I felt bad about, I did the right thing after all.

But I do still wish I could win the lottery.

How to Win Friends and Influence People

Bring bagels and cream cheese to work on a rainy Tuesday morning!

Oh, baby baby!

No, I'm not pregnant. I'm just running out of things to blog about. I was thinking last night how I like it when people call me baby.

A lot of women don't like it and I can see why. But I love it - I love it if a guy I'm dating calls me that, or my dad calls me that, or sweet older black women in the store call me that. It makes me want to snuggle up to them and listen to stories. It makes me feel safe and loved and cute and that people want to take care of me. I can take care of myself, but sometimes it is nice to be taken care of, you know? And it's a vague term, a widely-used nickname. It's in every other country song.. but it still sounds individualized when someone uses it, for reasons I can't really pinpoint.

What's your feeling on it? Do you like it or hate it or it depends on the person or what?

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl

Today is my niece's birthday and she is fifteen. It breaks my heart. She's my sister's first child and I helped raise her, even though I was 13 when she was born. She's always been a wonderful kid and she is sweeter and kinder than ever, not to mention extremely cute. She's quite fashionable, and loves belts and jewelry and comes up with the neatest outfits. She is smart and caring and a million times better than me. I remember when she started school, in her little red plaid dress. And I cried. And now she's a sophomore in high school and getting her learner's permit! Where does the time go?

Happy Birthday, Jesslyn, and thank you for 15 years of joy. May there be many more to come!

Grassroots Campaign

I'm pretty certain that anti-depressants are simply FDA-approved forms of crack squashed into a neat little white pill. Here's why:

Yesterday I woke up at 5:30 a.m. and couldn't go back to sleep. I had a full, busy day at work and software training (and I stayed alert) but still made it to the gym to exercise at lunch. I had to take some work home with me because the day was so frenzied I didn't get to work on the minutes. Still, I needed a break from work before starting on that. So I washed the dishes, played with the dog, cleaned out and scrubbed my refrigerator, swept the kitchen floor and took all the garbage out. I also used up two bottles of Round-Up on all the weeds and grass the mower can't get to. After a few phone calls I was pretty much ready for bed, so I just went to sleep and got up at 5:30 this morning to work on the minutes. Who IS this person?

Going back to the Round-Up for a minute.. my yard is huge and there are many places that the mower can't get to and I haven't bought a weedeater yet. I did buy a nifty little hand tool that will cut branches and things and has grass shears but my knees are getting old... anyway, my mother had used some Round-Up on poison ivy while she was here, and also went out and bought five more bottles of it for me. I decided that really, I don't need grass under and around the swing.. or by the deck.. or under my grape arbor.. so I got to spraying. Pretty easy and satisfactory work - normally I appreciate the rough beauty of nature untamed but even the best of tree-huggers like me gets to a point where you say, "That looks like crap." I'd like to say I feel badly about spraying poison on innocent grass and weeds but I don't. I hope when I get home today everything is nice and dead and shriveled up.

Unfortunately when I stopped I realized that I'd forgotten to douse myself in Off! and there were chunks of flesh missing from my legs due to mosquitoes. How could I have forgotten that? Ever since I can remember, you didn't go outside in the summertime without being doused in Off! When I was a kid and all us cousins and aunts met up at our grandparents' home, there was a can in every room and two or three outside. You couldn't step foot out the door without being sprayed down and we'd have to re-spray each other while playing outside, too. I'm surprised they didn't just set up a sprinkler system to spray us when we got out of bed. If you think the skeeters are bad where you are, go visit the Mississippi pine belt/delta area. You'll think that pterodactyls have made a comeback, but it's just the mosquitoes. Anyway, I couldn't believe I'd forgotten to put on my coat of Off! before going out to do yardwork.

I feel like I violated my heritage.