Mean Girls

For all of my life, I've been a girl's girl. I love makeup, nail polish, lovely perfume, and fancy shoes. New clothes make me as excited as someone who hears they are up for winning a car on the Price is Right. I have swooned over jewelry and handbags. Sports are something that I have learned about as I've gotten older and appreciate, but don't expect me to be having a beer (tastes like spoiled fizz to me) and gobbling down pizza (jackie warner would be so ashamed) while screaming at the tv. It's just not my style.

I mention this all because my tribe (aka my circle of friends) is mostly all female (most men don't want to sit around talking about Project Runway and why I am so deeply against Alex on Grey's Anatomy). I love my friends with every ounce of my being, but with an all female tribe, sometimes life gets a little hairy - to say the least.

One thing that men do that women don't (and that I'm highly envious of) is that men will come outright and tell you if they piss you off, have overstepped your bounds, or have broken one of the rules of The Man Code. They'll have a diplomatic discussion (most likely while watching or playing some sporting event) and that will be the end of it. If both parties still can't agree they will still play nice with each other, but will seek each other out to watch and play sporting events with less and less.

Women? Not so much. Women treat disagreements like warfare. There are secret lunches and shopping trips with allies to discuss the enemy's weaknesses (which can range from bad hair and sloppy dressing to chewing with her mouth open and bad parenting) and to plan a future plan of attack (ex: The next time I see her at the PTA meeting, I am so not going to say hello or sit by her. She knows what she did. How could she do that to me?!?!). Women need the reassurance of the rest of their tribe that what they did was right, and what the other person did was wrong. They get EVERYONE involved in a simple matter that could be resolved if both parties just sat down and talked to each other.

And giant disagreements? Forget about it! It's a no holds barred type of situation and that's when all of the real dirt (those secrets that you've been keeping for years) comes out to play. What's crazy though (we really should all have our heads checked) is that after we bring out the big guns and decimate our bond with that girl - we'll go running to her and reestablish our 'friendship' with her when one of the other members of the tribe do something to offend us. This not only causes great drama in the girl tribe, but also a vicious cycle riddled with vendettas, backstabbing, and paranoia.

I remember a lesson my father taught me long ago. He said, "three girls can never get together without one of them going home crying. Two girls? Fine. They'll play well with each other. Four girls? Great! No problemo! Three girls? No way! No how! Two girls will gang up on the third and it will always result in bad ju ju." He never let me have two girls over to our house at the same time. Never. I remember being so angry about it sometimes, but he was adamant - Never three girls together at once.

Now, as a woman who is perfectly capable of inviting as many people over as I want, I have learned over the years that my father was right. Sure, no one has EVER gone home crying and pouting, but there have been many kitchen secrets (you know, where two or more women huddle in the kitchen and talk smack on at least one woman in another room), pointed passive aggressive remarks, and obvious eye rolls and facial expressions.

WHY DO WE DO THIS TO OURSELVES?!?!?

Now I'm not saying that we should adopt all of the male gender's attributes (the world would be a very un color coordinated and physical place), but when it comes to public relations and handling disputes - I think women could take a page out of The Man Book. So ladies, the next time one of the women in your tribe tries talking shit on another member, just say "Have you tried talking to her about this? I'm not a judge and can't tell you what's right or wrong. Only you can decide what's right and wrong for you." and leave it at that. If she still presses to talk about it, then just start talking about the latest episode of Grey's Anatomy, NCIS, or Top Chef... That will get people thinking about other stuff. :)

Let's try to stop girl on girl violence, shall we?

Happy Saturday!

P.S. This isn't one of those posts that is stemming from any real place within my tribe (my tribe is pretty open and honest about things that are bothering them - in all honesty we kind of duke things out like men). To my tribe members - I love you and all of that. :) Don't know what I would do without you all. This is just coming from a place of things that I have observed and heard about happening in other people's tribes.

Mish Mosh

So it's been a few days since I have shared with you all, and let me say, what a couple of days! I laughed. I cleaned. I had a mental break down. I got my car inspected. I watched the news. I went to The Mecca (aka Starbucks). I introduced someone to Target and talked said person into buying a stand alone freezer... all things wonderful... well except for the mental break down part...

Today I have a lot to share - So, sit down. Grab a cup of cocoa. And get ready because HERE. WE. GO!


Let me just preface what I'm about to say with: I'm not an extremely emotional person. I tend to go into cynic, sarcastic mode before I take a walk on the wild emotional side. I'm better known for making fun of any and all with my big mouth (which I put my foot in quite frequently), not for being all warm and fuzzy and rainbows and butterflies (gag). Anyway. So imagine my surprise when I find myself sobbing (no, no. Not sniffles. Not slight bunny sniffs of sadness... But SOBS. Weeping, if you will. Red puffy eyes. Kleenex akimbo. Snot bubbles all over. Gasps of air. Horrible blinding cry headache. The. Whole. Nine. Yards.) in the middle of my bedroom floor on a perfectly pleasant Friday afternoon. Why, you ask, did I all of a sudden break down like Super Sweet 16 girl who found out that she wasn't getting the black BMW at her super fab party? I'll tell you why. Because I'm a hoarder. No, not one of those people that can't even open their front door, but an emotional hoarder - someone who hoards all of their emotions until there is not a single brain cell's worth of space left for anything else. And just as a house would collapse if it had too much stuff in it, so did my brain. :(

One thing that no one tells you about being unemployed is that it is an absolute roller coaster of emotions. One minute you're thrilled that you no longer have to work for Baggy Eyes The Terrible - the most insecure, unprofessional, whining, back stabbing, rude person that I have ever met in my entire life - and the next, questioning your self worth and whether or not Baggy Eyes The Terrible was really not Baggy Eyes The Terrible and that you were really Employee The Horrible and deserved what you got.

Now, granted, I did contribute to my unemployment because technically, I did put in a 2 weeks notice.... however what happened after was - a cluster fuck of gargantuan proportions you could say (I would love to divulge every last minuscule detail of how it came to be that I no longer have a job, but I can't. Upon leaving, I had to sign a contract that said that I would not speak of the company's foul doing in order to receive my severance package and the ability to receive unemployment compensation... fun, right? And momma's got bills to pay so my lips are zipped. Sort of. Hahaha). Losing your job takes such an emotional toll that it's no wonder that there is a whole How To section at Barnes and Noble on how to recover from the blow. So that's one room in my emotional hoarding house... That's a biggie - like the living room.

Other things that have been filling my emotionally hoarded house are: being hospitalized for 5 days with a month long recovery (adult mono is a bitch. I don't recommend you get it. Ever.) Gaining and losing the same 40 lbs about 3 times now. Having surgery to get my gall bladder removed because it got pissed off from the mono situation. Having to completely take care of my mother while I was recovering because she was having her own medical problems... (the woman is at the point now where she can barely walk from the living room to the bathroom...). Lose a friend that was like family due to stupid, idiotic, and mundane things. Separate from the Man Friend. Return to work from being on leave for a month and be ignored, disrespected, and downright lied to because of something that happened while I was away and still have no idea what happened. Have a brother who is doing EVERYTHING right and just landed an internship that will pay 3 times as much as I was making in my last position (it's not that I'm not happy for him. I really am. I'm so proud of him. I just can't help feeling like a little bit of a failure in comparison to his success).... And that just all of the stuff that has happened over the last 6 months - and I haven't emotionally dealt with any of it.

I have stored every single one of those things away. I haven't cried. I haven't asked for help. I haven't said a word to anyone about what's going on. I've just put on a happy faced and tried to laugh about it. Well, as they as say, the shit hit the fan on Friday. The piper came a callin' for his payin'. My over-stuffed, emotionally hoarded brain-house came tumbling down and it wasn't pretty.

The truth is though - that after weeping out all of my frustrations, second guesses, and lost causes, I felt better (yay!!). I felt lighter somehow and more relaxed about everything. Hope has been restored! After all of that emotional outpouring, I realized that I cannot change what has happened in the past. I can't take it back. I can't magically make it go away. I can't just push it all in a corner and deal with it another day. I have been emotionally procrastinating because I'm good at it. Hell - it's gotten me through 27 years of some pretty shitty stuff (super awful shitty if I'm being honest), but that method isn't working anymore and it sure isn't healthy.

It's not ok to always be ok. I think the hardest lesson that I've learned is that being strong isn't about just being able to say that you're still standing at the end of the day... Just standing isn't living. It isn't feeling. It isn't relishing in the world around you. So after I stopped weeping and cleaned myself up, I finished cleaning the physical spaces of my house. That is, after all,  what I originally set out to do with my day. When I was all finished, I lit some candles, turned on the tv, and smiled because it just felt so good to be mentally and physically clutter-free. I don't recommend this cleaning method to anyone - having a good, loud sob session in the middle of the day is a good way to have the neighbors think you're a lunatic and look at you funny at your next neighborhood get together (thank god our neighborhood is as dead as a cemetery during the day or otherwise I would be reporting to you from a lovely padded cell at the nearest mental institution).

Listen, my lovelies, I know that last bit was heavy, but I never promised to be all sunshine and lollipops... so to all of my Daydream Believers - don't fret because here comes the silly!!!!

Wanted: A Charming Male Suitor.

Do you remember in the movie Practical Magic (you know, the one with Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman and Stockard Channing...witches...broomsticks..Ah Ha! I knew you'd get it!)? Well in that movie Sally Owens (Sandra Bullock) casts a spell for her perfect man and this is what she asks for:

• He will hear my call a mile away. 
• He will whistle my favorite song. 
• He can ride a pony backwards.
• He can flip pancakes in the air. 
• He'll be marvelously kind. 
• His favorite shape will be a star. 
• He'll have one green eye and one blue. 

Not too too out of the ordinary, right? I still think it's funny that she was so amazed that Bill existed... lots of men can flip pancakes and whistle and like stars and have eyes that are two slightly different colors...

Anyway.

With Halloween coming to a close (it's so hard to say good bye to Halloween for some reason...), I've decided to cast my own spell (and by cast my own spell - I mean put it out there on the internet for everyone to read) for my ideal man. And this is what I'm asking the universe for:

• He will want to travel
• He will have a natural curiosity about life
• He will love to work with his hands
• He will have a tough exterior but a sensitive interior
• He can fix things without being a doofus about it
• He will be sensible about money
• He will have manners
• He will have ambition
• He can make things in the kitchen that I cannot
• He will be gentle
• He can open tightly closed jars and reach the highest of shelves
• He can kill the scariest of bugs and protect me from the ickiest of creatures
• And lastly, he will be smart but not arrogant and confident without being cocky

Sandra had a shorter list, but I'm a picky girl. I don't care what his favorite shape is (as long as it isn't a pentagram) and really have no preference as to what color his eyes are (as long as they aren't bloodshot or a creepy red color from alcohol/drug abuse and/or devil worship and/or albinoism). Alright. Time to crush some herbs and flowers together and blow them out into the wind... I hope oregano, nutmeg, and a piece from a spider plant will do because that's all this girl's got laying around...

With lots of love,

Happy Hump Day!





P.S. If you've been wondering how the 10k training has been going - let me tell you - it's a bitch. Breathing in cold air when huffing and puffing along is, in my book, close to torture. I tried jaunting on a treadmill, but have found that jaunting on a treadmill is different than jaunting in the great outdoors (not to mention Frau Millie can't jaunt at the gym. They deeply frown upon people bringing in trainers of a different species).