He's Just Not That Into You

...is by far one of my favorite movies. Yes, it's a typical chick flick. It's also wonderfully and insanely easy to relate to, no matter where you are in your life because everyone has been through at least one of those situations at some point. 

I've lived my life believing that I'm the rule; that other girls get the man who does something extraordinary, shows up as a night in shining armor, and they ride off into the sunset on the beach while the snow gently falls and makes everything peaceful (I know, that would never really happen). That girl gets ecstatically every after, while my slow poke in tinfoil on a donkey is taking his sweet ass time (that's a joke, FYI. I have a shitload of awesome coming my way!).  

THEN, one day, a lightbulb that could probably illuminate the western seaboard turned on in my head: I don't have to be the rule because I'm SOMEBODY'S exception. That realization has proved to be probably one of the most substantial self-discoveries I've ever made. My whole life I've been the believer of an indescribable happily ever after for me. I've come to find out that it's there, it just doesn't look anything like I'd imagined it, and that's okay. 

I've also learned the waffle-spaghetti theory: men are waffles and women are spaghetti. Following me? The male brain has a generally more prominent ability to compartmentalize events and feelings and well, everything in their life. Not saying that female brains don't, it's just much more remarkable in men. Women, on the other hand, and you ALL know what I'm talking about, are like spaghetti. Three completely unrelated events could happen that have nothing to do with each other, but each event (spaghetti noodle) touches another, and sometimes gets in knots. Susie Q wakes up, spills her coffee, has to go to a meeting with people she doesn't agree with, and she's frustrated about getting into an argument with a family member two days ago, which then causes the printer to break and gas to be too expensive. Yeah, spaghetti. 

Girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up. If a guy punches you he likes you. Never try to trim your own bangs and someday you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending. Every movie we see, Every story we're told implores us to wait for it, the third act twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the exception to the rule. But sometimes we're so focused on finding our happy ending we don't learn how to read the signs. How to tell from the ones who want us and the ones who don't, the ones who will stay and the ones who will leave. And maybe a happy ending doesn't include a guy, maybe... it's you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. Maybe the happy ending is... just... moving on. Or maybe the happy ending is this, knowing after all the unreturned phone calls, broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and embarrassment you never gave up hope.

Definitely the best part of the movie right there. It's all fairly accurate. I'm not sure that guys feel that way about things, but I'm sure there are many women out there who can relate! At least for me, hope keeps me alive. 

The Black Box of Anxiety

I know most of my posts are about ridiculous events and being silly. That's because I have to be. I'm a person that has to remain positive and smiling, even if that smile is screwed on so right the screw is about to be stripped. 

Everyone has something going on. I do my best to smile and say hi to everyone I see. You never know, that tiny bit of kindness could change their day. 

The brain is the ultimate mystery, the "black box". It's a funny, really. I'm typing this, I can hear the words in my head, I'm just not sure if I'm hearing them the way I actually sound. Rationally, I know this is silly, but then that part of my brain that encourages the curiosity thinks it's amazing. 

For a long time, I'd lie awake at night for hours, unable to shut my brain down. One thought would transition into another  stream of thoughts that would turn into another. It seemed neverending. Hours of sleep would disappear, and all I could think the next day was how much I had to get done at work and at home, and how I was going to make sure I'd get in bed early enough to get decent sleep. It didn't matter that I was in bed at 7:30pm, my brain wouldn't stop running in circles until easily 11pm when my eyes overruled and forced my brain to sleep. 

I would argue with myself, rationalize, bargain, tell myself "that's OK, I can deal with that tomorrow, but right now I'm going to sleep," or, "take a minute and breathe. Chill out." All to no avail. 

There are many different types of anxiety. Mine happens to be worrying or thinking about things that either haven't happened yet, won't happen, or things I'm blowing out of proportion unintentionally. Typically, it happens when I'm the least distracted- when I'm lying in bed at the end of the day and events have happened and there's nothing I can do about it, or when I'm in the shower trying to remember everything I think I'm forgetting. Even now, I've been working on this post for about two hours... Annnnd this is how far I've gotten. It's very hard to translate feelings into writing sometimes. 

Quick sidenote- super excited for Sunday... As in May 4th... As in May the fourth be with you... Yay! (And every time someone says that, the catholic school girl part of me that was forced to go to mass every Friday wants to reply with "and also with you"). 

I've had this recent self-discovery thing happen which has surprisingly helped my anxiety. It's basically doing whatever the hell I want, and doing more. I've spent more time with my friends (mostly Nic and Kimber), catching up with my brother (who I'm forcing to guest-post his AP FRQ response because it's fantastic), and investing in a puppy named Leo (that absolutely adores Nic's son. I think he'd rather hang out with him than me any day). It's been very enlightening, this spending a lot of time with myself, too. I know what I want, and I know what I don't want. 

Anyway, here's my issue tonight: I work freelance photography jobs in addition to my full-time job. I love photography, but for some reason, every time I book a shoot, I wind up with a rush of anxiety within the week prior to the event. I psych myself out, I doubt myself, and I worry that I'm going to somehow, well, fuck it up. I'm not really sure why this happens, because every time I have a wonderful time with fantastic people, and the result is gorgeous photographs. It's like a massive weight on my chest (which is definitely not my allergy-induced asthma because I've taken full advantage of my inhaler today), and I really just want to get it over with. That sounds terrible. It sounds like I hate what I do. I've come to find (another recent self-discovery) that I don't ever want to be a professional photographer. EVER. For me to full enjoy every aspect of photography, I have to shoot what I love; it cannot ever be for work or to provide a living. Living in a manner that requires me to depend on intermittent work and shoots is unacceptable. Plus, I refuse to be desensitized by something I enjoy for recreation. 

So that's that. I suppose I can't be anxious about it. I'm a damn good photographer, and I will exceed my own expectations at this shoot this weekend. 

I hope. 

Drink Nights

Nic and I thought of a BRILLIANT idea last night: Tequila-Wine Thursdays! This concept works with shots of tequila, limes, pink moscato, and a best friend that makes you pee your pants laughing. 

Steps!: 

Cut up the limes. You probably only need one, at least we did. We didn't make it past that. 

Pour yourself some moscato or whatever other girly-ass wine you prefer. It can't be red, though, or else you might want to die. 

Get tequila shots poured! Grab whichever half-full bottle of Jose you want from the booze shelf and pour! 

Turn on some 90s gangsta and boyband music so annoy the shit out of your upstairs neighbors because it's 915pm and for once they aren't making noise (it IS possible he was on a drug/beer run. We don't know for sure). 

Cheers! LickSlamSuck the shot (yeah, don't forget salt), or if you're Nic, just shoot it and immediately pour another. Chose this with the wine! 

Okay, I'm a wimp. For me it was more like Lick-Slam-Suck-Cringe-frantically search for a chaser-Wine. 

Now feel free to sit on the kitchen floor and laugh your ass off with your bestie!

Alright... So I made a huge mistake... 

After a shot of tequila and glass of wine, I wasn't terribly trashed and was happy about that. After all, I had a lot of sleeping in and not getting up for overtime to do this morning, so I didn't want to feel horrendous. 

Yeah. That didn't work so well. New lesson learned, everyone! Do NOT mix tequila, wine, and Jack Daniels. EVER. You're gonna wake up and feel like a train ran over your eyeballs and popped them back in your skull with a hammer. 

I figured since tequila wine night was going pretty safely I could have another drink. I mixed up some jack Daniels and coke zero (a SMALL glass), drank it, and woke up hating myself. 

Wino Wednesdays and Tequila-Wine Thursdays are no more. RIP. 

Natural Calm powder...

... Is not something you should bring to work in a plastic snack bag... Unless you want to get judgmental stares and frantic calls to security. 

If you've never seen or used magnesium powder... It's white powder. Yeah, it looks like coke. However, if you want to shock some people and be entertained for a minute, spill some on the table and proceed to try to scrape it in a little pile to clean up. Chances are (for me at least) it will end up in a line and your boss will walk around the corner to your desk. 

Awesome. 

Incredibly grateful that my boss has a great sense of humor. I guess it probably didn't help that I was giggling like a child about the fact that it looked like I had a line of coke ready to go on my desk on government property. It was magnesium! I've never done drugs. Scouts honor. 

Lesson learned: bring pre-mixed magnesium lemonade to work. 

SPED

...that's the alias for a guy at work. He's in his 60s and recently married a pretty 40-something year old. They're clearly still in the honeymoon phase. I know this thanks to the inappropriate conversations he has way too loudly at his desk when she calls. 

"...okay honey bear I'll see you when I get home! Aww kissy kissy for you! .... Yeah?... Haha I guess the only jobs I'll be doing when I get home are missionaries!... Ohh you little devil you!..."

And on... And on...  I feel like I'm getting punked. 

It's sweet until I can taste my lunch coming back up. They're also (clearly) trying to conceive as well, so we get to hear about how he's so excited to be a papa! 

I love kids sooooo much... But ahhhh.  Staaahhhhhppppppp. 

Mini Ninja Turtle Pup

Last week, Meus (one of my very best friends at work) and I went down to the local SPCA on our lunch break to meet up with her husband and youngest son to look at some puppies. Her ten year old has been begging for a dog, so rescuing seemed like a good option. This location had a few good ones that were small and family friendly. 

I think it always happens this way. You go with someone else who is looking. See all of the adorable faces that just have "love me" stamped all over them, and then you wake up the next morning and realize you are now responsible for a tiny fuzzy adorable creature. 

Mine just happens to be broken. This is Leo; he's a seven month old terrier mix, and the sweetest little guy. I have yet to hear him make a sound (possibly because he's still drugged from puppy painkillers). All he wants to do is sit on my lap and lock my chest! Yeah, well. Guess that's a guy thing. 

Anyway, Kimber and I went down to the SPCA Saturday, and sure as shit, I woke up with a puppy love hangover on Sunday. I adopted this dude. His little 1950s teddy bear face in the cone of shame just sucked me in! Oh, yeah, cone of shame is on this poor little guy because a big dog was a jackass attacked him, and broke his back leg. My little ironman now has a permanent plate and pins in his back leg, and got some nifty shorts out of that haircut! 

So Leo, aka Leonardo the puppy ninja turtle is getting his family jewels snipped today and then I get to take him home for some cuddles and a nifty puppy t-shirt that says "STUD". Don't roll your eyes. I also got him a really cool puppy house that has a sunroof.... AND a harness with a seatbelt tether! Sweet! He's gonna love it! 

I hope. 

I'm sure he will do really great, plus I get to work from home tomorrow, which I think will help him get adjusted. 

 How freakin' adorable is he?! Ahhhh. So melty. 

Blueprint!

The internet is a wonderful thing. I found this awesomeness on the chive/berry this weekend. How cool is this?! Or am I just a nerd?