Tuesday, October 28, 2008

I think I just need sleep.


Fuck fuck fuck.

I'm in a doozie of a mood. I'm blogging right now so as not to email the ex. I don't know what my subconscious's problem is lately but I've been having dreams about him for the past few nights. And I wake up in the middle of the night in a foggy haze, trying to convince myself to stay awake for enough time so that I will not fall back asleep into the same dream. Which interrupts my sleep. Which makes me wake up all shitfaced and emotional. Which is causing my days to be far from great. Which is causing my sleep to be horrible. I'm tired. I'm cranky. I'm sad. I'm sick of thinking about him. I'm sick of missing him. I'm sick of feeling horrible for not responding to the birthday card. I'm sick of wondering what it would be like to talk to him or to have him in my life again. I'm sick of forgetting about why it is I thought he and I are probably better off not together.

Sure, this could be my fucking head testing me. It could be because of all of the shit I'm trying to figure out in therapy. It could be because I totally miss him. It could be because I miss the thought of him, the thought of the security in my life. Who in the fuck knows. But I'm over it. I'm over feeling this. I'm over actually playing out in my head what I might type in an email. Or what he might say back. I'm over even remembering his email address off the top of my head (though it's not a difficult one). I'm over wondering what could have happened if I would have responded to the birthday card.

I can't do this anymore. I fucking need freedom from this. It's bringing me down.... and I realize that in a sick way, I'm letting it. But I'm so tired. I'm so tired of thinking about this and analyzing this and letting it fuck with my head. Why can't I just be the girl that moves on? Why can't I just be the girl that isn't scared of the holidays because she's going to be alone? Why is there that need for me to have someone in my life to make me feel whole? I feel incomplete. I feel like being in love and having someone love me is what will make me complete. Is that sick and sad or just where I am at this point in my life?

I honestly don't know how to deal with this. I don't know how to deal with being this person who I apparently have become for whatever reason. I want to change. I want to fix this way of thinking but I don't know how. And no one can tell me how. And that is so fucking difficult to deal with.

Monday, October 27, 2008

But jiggly arms aren't pretty

So I went to the gym on Saturday. And lifted weights. And now I'm in a ridiculous amount of pain.

See, in the past few months, my halfie training has caused me to neglect the usual weight lifting that I had built into my regular gym routine. And before I stopped, I was actually getting to a point where I was liking my arms. They were toned, for once in my life (I was a soccer player), and I was proud to show them off (ask my friends). And then running happened. And the weight lifting went in the shitter.

Well, the other day I went to reach for my phone and my arm fat almost swung around and smacked me in the face. It was hideous. And the same day, my friend grabbed my arm and it was so squishy that she even said, "Whoa." Yeah, thanks, I get the point.

So, feeling all inspired and shit, I went to the gym on Saturday morning to start back on my weight lifting. First, lifting weights as a chick in the gym is always awkward. Guys look at you, which may not necessarily be a bad thing. But it's kinda annoying, especially when you want to use a machine and some meaty douchebag is sweating all over it. Doing 500 pounds and 200 reps (and grunting...so hot). And then leaving their weights on when they're done. Seriously?? Wipe your sweat and take off your steriod enducing weights. Asshole.

I keep digressing.

I did the workout. Full. Body. Weightlifting. I did every exercise that I knew. I felt great. I was a little bummed that I couldn't lift as much as I used to, but it was still a great workout. And then I went home and went for a run. That was when I knew I did too much. My run was ridiculous. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the workout, maybe I just wasn't in the mood. But it sucked. So I took a shortcut and headed home.

Later that night, while in a drinking and dancing frenzy at a Halloween party, I started to feel the pain. Creeping in. Meh, it's a good pain. And the alcohol surely supressed it. So I thought nothing of it.

And then I woke up the next morning. I could hardly move. It wasn't pretty. It hasn't been pretty. Even today I can hardly move. I have to literally breathe out when I sit to pee. It hurts to go up and down my steps to get to my apartment. It hurts to lift my leg to cross it. It hurts to get out of my car. It hurts to walk.

I have to go back soon so that this pain doesn't happen again. But I can hardly move. Hopefully it'll go away by tomorrow.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Friday, October 24, 2008

Can someone turn on a light?

I, apparently, am a pretty complicated person. A complicated person who is pretty insecure. And I'm kinda over it. Since I've pretty much come to terms with the damage from the ex in therapy, we've moved onto a more pressing issue. Me. And now I'm back to crying in every session. Awesome.

This all started when I was blindsided by the fact the nothing is ever good enough. I ran a half marathon. Wasn't the full. I traveled solo to Europe. Was with a tour group, so it wasn't really solo. Got my Masters degree. Yeah, so... everyone else in my profession has one. See what I'm doing here? It's pretty pathetic. I know. But it's me. And it's been me for as long as I can remember.

So my therapist tells me that this could always be me. Wait, what? Isn't it your job to try and help me work through this so I'm not that person anymore?? No, apparently this could just be considered a "personality trait" and it's something that may not change. So now what? I jump off a building? I tell him I'm not sure what the next chapter in my life is supposed to be. I can't count on marriage or kids, I've already finished my education.... so now what? And having no plan(s) makes me all itchy. It's the perfectionist in me. I need structure. Plans. A drop down menu with categories and subcategories. And instructions on how to tackle each category. And what I have now is just the opposite. Nothing.

So he gives me a metaphor:
It's like I'm in a dark room and I'm trying to find my way out. But I can't see. So I have to use my other senses. I have to stop looking. In this stage of my life, I don't know where I am. When I'm in a situation where my insecurity is at its worst, all I'm doing is looking around and seeing how I'm not good enough. And what am I supposed to do? Stop looking. Wha? I don't get it. Can I get a therapist-to-English dictionary? What does that mean? How does one go about not looking? And, ok, the metaphor says to use "my other senses." But that doesn't apply in the literal sense here. What are my other senses in this case? What are the other options that I'm supposed to be using?

Needless to say, I'm at a stand-still. I'm just existing right now. That's it. And I hate it. I want to be doing something. Something that, when I finish, I can think it's not good enough. But at least I'd be doing something. At least I wouldn't be in limbo. Because limbo is freakin uncomfortable. And I'm all twitchy and shit.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Not it!

I was tagged by Lindy this morning and thought I would share of few random things about me. Though you may never read my blog again once you know these things.
First, here are the rules:

#1: I sleep with a stuffed animal that I've had since I was 7. He has appropriately been named Krusty, because he was a white rabbit that I got for Easter who is now brownish. My ex hated him but I refuse to sleep without him when I am in my own bed.

#2: I used to suck my thumb. Until I was 8. Yeah, I realize that's old. I had a habit of sucking my thumb and picking the fuzz off my blankets. There would be rolled up fuzz balls on my floor and it would drive my parents crazy. I finally just stopped doing it one day. It was odd, really.

#3: I totally cheated my way through 4th grade. My teacher trusted me and another student to grade and record grades and we changed our grades in the computer. Ok, really though, we were doing fine academically, but we changed the Bs to As. I'm going to hell, I know. And vindication is going to be a bitch, hence the reason why I never let any student touch my gradebook, or grade anything, for that matter.

#4: I check my shower every time I go to the bathroom. Since I've lived alone, every time I sit to pee, I pull back the shower curtain to make sure there isn't a very large, strong man with a knife behind it, waiting to kill me. Because I'll be able to fight him off, sitting on the toilet, with pee streaming out of me. Good idea.

#5: I have favorite students. And they are boys 98% of the time (and no, not favorite as in, I am Mary Kay Letourneau, sickos). I know, I know... I'm not supposed to, but seriously, how am I not supposed to? Some of them are just so freakin funny and adorable. It is very rare to get a girl that has a great sense of humor at 12. They are too into being the teacher's pet.

#6: I am scared out of my mind to get into another relationship. And I don't know if I'll ever have kids, because I feel like this real relationship thing is never gonna happen for me. And the thought of no kids leaves a numb feeling inside of me. Like, nothing. Not saddness or relief. Neither. Does that mean I don't want them?

#7: I won't hold hands with a guy until we're exclusive. I can kiss whoever but I refuse to hold hands with that person. It's too intimate to me. Backwards? Maybe. But it's how I am.

Now I shall pass this on to a few of my homies. Well, three, namely. Because I don't have a lot of blogging buddies:
Erin and Megs and Crystal

Tuesday, October 21, 2008


So..... yeah. I thought my friends and I were the only 12-year olds in 30-something bodies. Apparently not. I am one of those lucky ladies that gets to go and relive my 12 year old fantasy....I am going to the L.A. show on November 26th. You shouldn't hate. Why? Because my parents were strict. And poor. And for those 2 reasons alone, they wouldn't let me go and see the love of my 12-year old life, Jonathan (who is apparently gay). But they did allow me to join the New Kids fan club. And have NKOTB sheets. And buttons of every New Kid. And watch the cartoon. And collect the trading cards. And read the comic books. And buy Tiger Beat and hang the posters all over my room.

But seriously. How can you resist this?

Or this.

Or, hell, what about this?

And seriously, this?

And even this, gay or not. He was my original New Kid love. **sigh**

The moral of my story is that I have not grown up. I'm still that 12-year old girl, screaming the lyrics to Hangin' Tough in my NKOTB poster-covered room, feeling actual pain in my heart for Jonathan. My brother and all the other guys in my life are still talking shit about how lame they are. My parents still roll their eyes when I tell them I bought tickets to their show.

But I don't care.

Because I'll be a Blockhead for the rest of my life (yeah, I said it). So there.

Monday, October 20, 2008


Can you see it? It's the look of pure exhaustion on my face as I'm about to cross the finish line. My feet were killing me, my legs were aching, I was out of breath because at this point I had worked myself up. And Katie next to me? Yeah, she's all smiles. She was one of the mentors that told me she would find me on the course and run with me. She found me at mile 10ish, where my feet were just starting to ache and I was shuffling more than I was running. But I was sticking to my 5:1 intervals (run 5 minutes, walk 1).

I crossed the finish line at 2:44:58. The funny thing is, I wanted 2:45. And I did it. The time before, when I ran the 13 miles to the beach, it took me 3 hours. But that was the morning after 3 beers and a shot of Patron. Bad decision on my part, I realize that now.

So now that my knee is healing and my feet are freshly pedicured, I want to start training again. Why? Because it's now an addiction. And one of my good friends is into it too. She and I have decided that we want to to the Huntington Beach Sun and Surf halfer in February. We're crazy. I won't be doing it through TNT again (the fundraising part). It was a great experience and I'm glad I did it, but I can't raise money. I won't have any friends left if I continue to ask them for money. I've considered being a mentor, which wouldn't have to involve raising money. But I have to wait for them to get in touch with me.

What I like most about this experience is that I used to hate running. I always wanted to be a runner, but I never thought I could. And now I am. I'm still not fond of it in the way that I'm fond of running over a player in soccer, but I like it. And I can do it. I've proved that to myself. So I'm going to continue doing it.

Maybe one day I'll actually try a full marathon. I can't say never, but I can laugh at the thought. At least right now.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Water Jack

Holy hell. One of my BFFs does a "Wordless Wednesday" on her blog and this was her picture today. I can't stop giggling. It's her son. If you knew the crazy kid, you'd fall in love with him immediately. We became buddies when I went to Texas to visit her. He loves me, I can't lie. And really, who can blame him? It's ok, because pictures like this make me love him too.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Dear neighbors...

What in the hell is going on upstairs? I live on the second of three floors and I swear to the god in the sky that the person above me is freakin Bigfoot. I'm not even kidding. I can hear each and every step that he/she/it is taking. When they walk from the kitchen to the slider. When they open the slider. When they walk to the bedroom. When they apparently dance in the bedroom. When they walk on the treadmill. I think it was the treadmill. It could have been sex in the dining room. For a half hour.

The other night I heard steps and yelling. It had to be the heel-walker upstairs because the yelling was matching the movement. I'm not kidding. I did some investigative listening. And I swear it was a mom yelling at her chitlins to stop hiding under the bed. And then I heard chitlin feet. Which, might I add, corn-fuses me a tad because I'm in a one-bedroom. And I would assume the floorplan is the same above me.

What's even better is that someone gets up at around 4am and I hear that too. Every morning. Oh yeah, and don't forget about the closet doors opening and closing. What in the hell?

And TWICE I've thought that the building was coming down because someone dropped something or someone upstairs. This morning it scared the bejeezus out of me. What could possibly make that much noise? Anyone? Perhaps someone was murdered standing up and fell, dead weight to the ground. Maybe they were packing up their shit and dropped a box of pots and pans. (I cross my fingers for the second guess.)

Oh! And the other night the girl next door was cussing out her boyfriend/husband/pimp. It was awesome. I could hear them arguing in the bedroom (I share that wall) and then I heard her yelling at him and telling him to f*@% off. And then a little later he said something about money.

I swear this place is great though. Other than Bigfoot and Crack Whore next door, it's been a pleasant month. It's uber clean and I feel safe. The place next door (the other side) is empty though. The cute, friendly couple with the dog moved out about 2 weeks after I got here. I'll keep my fingers crossed for a hottie, or a divorced mom with a hot, successful, 30ish-year old son. Can I get a prayer?

Thursday, October 9, 2008

Gettin ready for the LB this weekend

Guess who'll be running 13 miles for reals in 3 days???

I have mixed emotions about this. I'm excited, nervous, scared, and so proud at how far I've come in my quest of becoming a runner. I'm for sure not running for a specific time, though I would like to finish sometime around 2:45 (2 hours, 45 minutes, not 2:45 pm). I can't wait to cross the finish line. I swear I keep saying I'm going to have the "cry face" in my picture. It'll be the ugliest look ever, that I'll have to stare at for the next however many years that I have it up.

I just finished watching a movie called, "Spirit of Marathon," and it was such an inspiration for me 3 days before my run. It followed 5 people training for the Chicago Marathon, both advanced runners (a guy from Kenya) and first timers. It told about the history of the marathon, which was interesting because I had been to a few of the places in Greece that they showed. Needless to say, I was a ball of tears as I watched all 5 of the people cross the finish line. All I could see and feel was the pure exhaustion, yet adrenaline and emotion that I know a little bit about. Though mine will be half of theirs.

The bad news is, I went for a run around my place yesterday (about 5 miles) and today my knee has been killing me. I've been icing it since I got home from work and I'm hoping the pain goes away before Sunday. I've had sore knees after long runs before and it goes away. But this pain seems more than usual. Maybe I'm just on high alert because I'm just so gosh darn close.

So anyway, I can't believe my 5 months of training is finally going to show. I'm excited and can't wait to take every minute and mile of it in.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

But retirement is so far away....

Well ladies and gentlemen (or no one for that matter), another challenge awaits me.

Back in the ex days, I set up a retirement fund through his family's financial analyst. I completely forgot about that connection until I recently received a letter saying that my retirement provider has chosen to exit the 403(b) market, which means that I have to switch providers. And I have NO idea what the hell any of that stuff means. I didn't back when I set it up, but I trusted that the family's guy knew what he was talking about. And now, I'm not about to get in touch with anyone on that team to help me out. It's not worth it. I know I have to figure it out on my own. Boo.

So I went to my district's benefits' department today to plead for help and the nice lady in charge of the retirement funds helped me through the paperwork. And then she suggested that I set up an appointment with another financial analyst to help me with choosing a new provider. And quite frankly, if I live my entire life without understanding any of the benefits/financial shit that I receive or give part of my paycheck to, I would die a happy woman. I don't understand any of it. And I feel like a total idiot when I have to call on something. Because they all speak a language, and I don't know that language. Just do what you think is best for me and I will trust you. Bad, I know.

So my new challenge is understanding this shit. (Can you hear my excitement?) I went home, called the credit union to set up an appointment with a "retirement specialist" and am going to go in and tell him that we need to start at the pre-school stage of all of this. My appointment is next Friday and by golly, when I leave that man, he will have schooled me in all that needs to be understood about my 403(b) plan.

I don't care if I ask stupid questions. I don't care if he laughs when I tell him that I don't know what "pre-taxed" means. I have to be able to understand this shit because I WILL NOT rely on someone else to do it for me anymore.

Maybe next year, I'll tackle my health insurance information.

Monday, October 6, 2008

Angels are out

I weep.

Can we win in less than 12 innings tonight?

For reals, I had such a fun weekend. Let me count the ways...

First, on Friday night, my two work pals and I went out "watch the Angels game" at BJs. And by "watch the Angels game," I mean, be surprised by our assistant principal and secretary having drinks and gossiping. We reluctantly sat with them and shot the shit for a few hours until they both left and we finally had time to...watch the Angels lose. Our night of girl talk hardly happened.

Second, on Saturday morning, I ran a measly 4 miles and had my "send off" for the marathon, which is this Sunday. It got me all excited and sad because that was our last practice. I actually enjoyed waking up at the butt crack of dawn to run. No, I'm serious.

Third, on Saturday afternoon/night, I went to the USC/Oregon game, whereupon I wore Oregon colors to root for my friend's step-brother on the Oregon team. I've decided that wearing the opposing team's colors to any games besides a Dodger's game or Raider's game is way more fun than wearing the home team's colors. So many people talk to you! Sure, some of the comments were really lame (Go back to Eugene! was my favorite), but most of the people are guys and it gives them a chance to say something smart ass, which I always appreciate. We spent the day tailgating (i.e. drinking too many Patron margies and eating too much bean dip, sitting on the grass in front of the LA Memorial Colosseum), and then watched the game, where Oregon got smoked.

Fourth, on Sunday, I went to a new bowling alley/lounge in Anaheim (Ana-Crime, Ana-Slime) where I paid $10.50 for a margie at 10:00am. Holy hell. Oh, and we watched football, which I love. (I hate watching pro football.) Then I went to my grandma's where I quickly said Happy Bday, ate, and left to watch the Angels game at a nearby dive bar. I'm so glad they finally won to keep themselves alive in this sad series with Boston. I'll keep my fingers crossed for another win tonight.

So many sporting events, too much alcohol, and getting no laundry or cleaning done = fun weekend. Maybe less alcohol next time. I'm getting to old for it. It makes me sleepy. And sleepy is boring.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

The secret words of Alicia Keys

I just watched today's Oprah and I have a few things to say.

One, I'm not the girl that does everything Oprah tells me. I rarely watch her show, though I recently put her on my series record list because there have been a few interesting topics and guests lately. I think she's a powerful woman and I do appreciate the fact that she empowers people, especially women, to be positive, contributing beings. Her recent guests have included Christina Applegate, who is going through a life-altering experience and still staying positive, and Jenny McCarthy, who has done everything in her power to save her child from a sad disorder. She does good things, that's all there is to it.

Two, she had on the cast of The Secret Life of Bees today. I have to say, I read that book this summer and liked it. And then I heard there was going to be a movie based on the book and I was kind of excited. I always like to see how the director interpreted the author's words and compare it to my own interpretation. And then I heard about the cast and, more specifically, who was playing what part. I was disappointed. I thought the casting was all wrong. Maybe not the women, but the parts. I didn't agree. And then I watched Oprah today and I gotta say, I'm feelin it now. I can't wait until it comes out.

Three, Alicia Keys is the shit. She's talented, beautiful, and totally humble (seemingly). She talked about a recent trip to Egypt that she took and I totally felt her. She mentioned how she got to see the Pyramids and the Red Sea and the Nile river and how it was all so historic and amazing. I felt the same way when I went to Rome and Athens, seeing the Colosseum and the Forum and the Parthenon. And then she said something so powerful to me: If these buildings that are so large and old can withstand time and not be knocked down, so can we. Wow. It struck me as such a powerful statement. I cannot be knocked down. I cannot let myself be knocked down. Nice.

Four, Dakota Fanning is all growed up now. Holy cow!

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

You know what really bothers me?

  • When people clean their windshield on the freeway. Seriously? Do you realize that your spray is getting all over my windshield and car? You're an idiot. Please look around. If you are driving at a speed of more than 20 mph, do not hit the lever to spray water. As a matter of fact, wait until you come to a complete stop and then do it. But make sure I'm ahead of you. Dumbass.
  • Guys. In general. I really don't think I need to elaborate on that one, but let's just say that I do not understand them. Just as I didn't understand them when I was 22. Or when I was 5. Great... I'm seeing a pattern.
  • Parents that are oblivious to their child's ways. Or in denial. I got a note from a parent today asking me to modify their child's homework. Their child who is never paying attention. And when I say never, I mean NEVER. He wastes his time in class staring at the wall. Literally. And then I get a note from Dad today that says he spent 2 hours on homework last night. Really? Because I assigned maybe a half hour. At most. And his book report (that was due on Tuesday and assigned FOUR weeks ago) is not done. Still. His dad said his son hasn't finished reading the book. Well, why not? Have you not been signing your son's planner for the last 2 weeks that stated every day that a book report was due on Tuesday, September 30?? And this is my fault, how? And tell me again why I should modify his homework? So you don't have to sign any more homework tickets and let your son do nothing all year again and not deal with the real issue which is that your lack of follow-through has caused him to be this way at 12 years old??? Oh my.... parents. I get a doozie every year.
  • Did I mention guys? Eckgh...