Not That Same Girl Anymore...

Hello, goodbye, hello, goodbye....

2011-02-02T20:49:00.000-08:00

I randomly have like 10 new followers. Weird.

I should probably let y'all know that I don't know if I'm going to update this blog much more. It was for a period in my life where I needed this outlet to spew out foolishness about boys. I'm over that now. At least for the time being. So I won't stomp all over your hearts anymore....each time you check me out and I haven't posted. I know, you're all heartbroken.

In case you're curious and you'd like to follow my new blog, click here and watch me enjoy life daily throughout 2011.

Thanks for reading about my shit though...

I'm still alive

2010-12-08T21:31:00.000-08:00

Yeah, yeah... I haven't blogged in a LONG time. I know. I just don't want to get on here and babble on about nothing. I haven't felt anything noteworthyish to post about.

Until today. Sorta.

Inspired by my fabulous friend's blog post about how fantastic she is, I thought I'd follow suit and talk about myself. Haven't done that in awhile. And why not put my quirks out for the few followers I have left to see? This is how I roll.

Me:

I love to step on dry, "crunchy" leaves. I will literally go out of my way to step on one. I love the sound. I love the feeling.
I think that toned calves on a man are ridiculously sexy. It's one of the first things I check out if a guy is wearing shorts.
It drives me crazy when people speak with poor grammar. The teacher in me wants to correct them, but the adult in me realizes it's rude.
It drives me crazy when people spell incorrectly. In fact, when I see that I make a spelling mistake, I am embarrassed and 9 times out of 10 will correct myself in a follow-up text or email.
I love NeNe on Real Housewives of Atlanta. Not in THAT way.
I love Blake Lively on Gossip Girl. TOTALLY in that way.
Celery and peanut butter have been my favorite snack lately.
I call my friends "whores" because I love them.
I got unfriended on Facebook because I called someone a whore. Whoopsies.
It drives me crazy when things aren't lined up straight. Pictures, papers on my desk, things hanging in my classroom.
I think I have OCD.
My heart melts every time my niece calls me "Aunt Brandi."
I've learned many things about the mistakes I've made, especially in the last 10 years.
I think I would have been jealous if I had a sister. I'm glad I'm the only girl in my immediate family.
I have curly hair and I straighten it. I have straight eyelashes and I curl them.
I would rather eat a bag of chips than any candy, any day.
I cannot keep a secret, am a horrible liar, and wear every single emotion I feel on my sleeve. And I'm proud of that.
I have forgotten what it feels like to have physical contact with a guy, it's been so long.
I keep my phone next to me at night because I'm afraid something's going to happen to one of my family members.
I honestly feel like I'm never going to find "the one." I'm afraid I'll never get to experience that part of my life.
I think way too much about things that are out of my control.
I have a ridiculous amount of respect for my best friend for a number of different reasons. I think she is an amazing woman, and amazing mother, and an amazing person.
I have arm muscles and can do 8 pull ups (as of today). I've never been able to do a pull up in my life until about a month ago.
I love to dance, but have difficulties with choreographed dance. I want to take a class but am scared I'll be the only inexperienced one in there.
I secretly wanted to be a cheerleader in high school.

I could honestly go on and on...

Getting my ass kicked

2010-09-13T20:50:00.000-07:00

Maaaan I've been busy.

My summer was jammed with awesomeness and I didn't even post about it because I've literally been busy since summer started. I'll try and post about my Peru trip at some point. Yeah, spent 13 days in southern Peru, got to see Machu Picchu, and got eaten alive by mosquitoes (or bed bugs? or fleas?). The trip was fantastic, to say the least.

Started work again. It's kicking my ass. Quite literally. I feel like a first-year teacher, for whatever reason. Probably because I wanted to amp my teaching up this year and probably because our planning time has been cut. Either way, I'm stressed and trying to find a new routine.

Started a new workout this month. It's amazing. Amazingly painful and hard and pushes me to my limits. Everything I could ever ask for in a workout. Here's a preview of the awesomeness that is CrossFit.

How many positive adjectives can I use in one post?

2010-08-25T19:00:00.000-07:00

What an amazing summer this has turned out to be. I've traveled to many places, met some magnificent people, and spent time with some amazing friends. Oh, and I moved again. I like to keep my living situation fresh (and drive my family crazy) by moving every other summer.

I was just thinking today how fortunate I am and how I seem to be coming across such genuine people lately. I've had friends (and strangers) extend their kindness to me in the form of rooms overnight, moving services, lunch, my birthday celebration, glasses of wine, and support in stressful situations. And the majority of these people are either people I haven't seen in a very long time, but keep in touch with on Facebook, or people I've literally just met.

I just feel so very fortunate lately.

Half Dome, whole anxiety

2010-07-17T23:04:00.000-07:00

So I did it. I conquered my fear of heights.

Though, to me, that means that I no longer have that fear, which is completely untrue. I am still paralyzingly afraid of being up high. But not in all cases. Traveling up and being on the top level of the Eiffel Tower? Yes! Being on the top level of the Empire State Building? No. Climbing Half Dome? Yes! Para sailing? No. Am I just being selective? Do I psyche myself out? Am I height bipolar? I don't know.

What I do know is that when I first heard about this challenge from my friend R, I was like, sure, let's do it. Why? Because I really had no idea what it was. Sure, she showed me pictures. Sure, it looked kinda intense. But, whatever. Let's do it! So we did. We got a few other girls to do it with us and we planned, like 5 months in advance, to hike to the top of Half Dome in Yosemite.

There were a few things I was psyched about. One, I had never been to Yosemite. Two, I love a challenge. Three, road trip! There were also a few things I paid little attention to. One, this hike is 17 miles with a 4000+ elevation gain in the first 8-10 miles. That's roughly a 500 ft. climb per mile. That's roughly 20 flights of stairs per mile. That's roughly 160-2000 flights of stairs JUST to get to the top of Half Dome. Then you have to climb down. Did I do this math in my head beforehand? Of course not. What did I do instead? Nothing. I hardly trained. I hiked an intermediate 5-mile trail a few times. I hiked Mt. Baldy once a couple of weeks before. I really had no idea what I was getting myself into. In fact, I have to honestly admit that I really looked at this hike as "just another hike with my friends," only a lot longer and some cables that we had to climb at the end.

It was probably better that I didn't know what I was in for.

First, let me tell you that Yosemite is beautiful. I have never seen anything like it. Sure, I've been to other countries and the things that I see are in fact amazing, but they are man-made. I've never seen true beauty in nature. When we rounded the bend and I saw my first glimpse of all that Yosemite had to offer (and literally heard voices singing, "ahhhhhhhhh...."), I got a little teary-eyed. I'm not joking. This shit can't be described in pictures. You have to see this to believe that it actually does exist in all of its glory.

So this is where I start to panic. Because, do you see that dome-shaped rock in the distance that is high-fiving the heavens? Yeah, I was going to be climbing that in less than 24 hours. I knew this was no laughing matter anymore. I got nervous, but I still blew it off.

So me and my four crazy friends wake up at 4am the next day, gear up, and set off for what will be the most intense 14 hours of my life. Within a mile, we lose two of our girls. And by lose, I mean me and two others (R & C) were moving too fast for them.* We climbed the Mist Trail to the top of Vernal Fall (ah-may-zing).

We hiked to the top of Nevada Fall (indescribable).

And this was only two hours in. The next 4-5 miles were difficult for me. Probably because I wasn't hiking next to some glorious waterfall, and instead just climbing in a forest. But I was still blissfully ignorant about what lie ahead of me.

And then, about 5.5 hours into our hike, we rounded the bend and there she was. The infamous Half Dome. I was in awe. The view of Yosemite in and of itself at that point was amazing. We were so high. Here was this rock that was so surreal less than 24 hours before this moment. I was taking it all in.

And then... it all went downhill (no pun intended). R describes to me something that is new and not-so-exciting. If you look at the top of that rock in the above picture, you will see Half Dome. Looking at it, you'll notice that the rock is divided into two parts. If you look really closely, you might even be able to see a small ant-like line of people hiking, with the help of cables, to the top of this beast on the higher part. What you might also see are people hiking, without the help of cables, on that first roundish dome that begins at the ground level to where it seemingly flattens out (aka, the lower part). This lower part is called the Subdome (enter the 'dun dun duuuuuun' sound effect, here). R tells me that not only do we have to hike the cables when we get to the second level, we have to first hike a shit ton of steep-ass switchbacks on the side of a rock, going what looks like almost vertical BEFORE we get to the cables. Looking at that rock from the above-pictured view, I thought, there is no gravitational way that humans can climb at that angle without having something to hold them up. (The picture below is not mine. No one took a picture of the Subdome climb because, I later found out, we were all pretty skeeved out by the climb. I stole this view looking up the Subdome off of some other schmuck.)

I was going to die. I had decided right then and there. I was going to climb and the forces of gravity were going to pull me backwards, off the rock, and I would plummet to my death.

Here began the series of panic attacks that would last me approximately the next 1.5-2 hours. My stomach was turning, my palms were sweating, tears were flowing... that shit was f-ing high and I was about to climb it.

No I wasn't. There was no way. I couldn't do it. R and C were going to have to do it alone and I would wait for them at the foot of the rock. I was scared out of my mind. I was scared out of my body. I was walking, but I wasn't really walking. I could feel my legs moving toward that rock, but my mind had already turned back.

R and C are beginning to see that I'm in a heap of trouble here. They could see my change in demeanor, they could see the tears coming out from the bottom of my sunglasses, they could probably see the whitish/greenish color on my face. So what did they do? They stayed calm. And they talked me all the way up that freakin rock. Sure, there were many instances were I almost lost my shit. There were a few, in fact, where I literally made the motion to turn around and head down. But those bitches stayed calm and literally talked me though each and every step up that rock. And I am not exaggerating when I say "each and every step." I owe them everything. I would NEVER have done this without them. I would have turned around right then and there and hated myself for not attempting that climb.

So we get to the top of the Subdome (dun dun duuuuuuuuun) and I'm crippled with fear. I have to hold on to R's hand because I literally think I'm going to tumble to my death (mind you, at this point, we were on fairly flat rock). I have to look at my feet the entire time (so much so that my neck is sore the next day). I can't look past anyone's knees. I don't see faces. I only hear voices. I made a couple of friends up there, but have no idea what they look like. I could tell you what their shoes looked like, though.

We're about to climb the cables and this is what I look up at ever-so-briefly to get my bearings.

Yeah.... f me, I'm going to die. And my mom's going to be pissed at me for being so stupid and dying this way. It was intense. I honestly don't know why I proceeded toward the cables. I was so insanely afraid that I couldn't think clearly and the only thing I could do was follow my friends.

I finally made it to the top 45 minutes later... 30 minutes longer than it should have taken us because some poor girl was having a full-blown panic attack toward the top and apparently didn't have friends like R and C to calm her down... which, if you think about it, that meant that I stood and waited, clinging to braided steel cables, at about a 55 degree incline, on the side of an f-ing rock, for some long-ass periods of time. When I got there, I broke down and cried. Happy, relieved, accomplished, thankful tears of freakin joy.

So we ate and took a few pictures (ok, R and C took a few pictures... I still couldn't move around much because I was still being clutched by my insane fear of how high we were). The one below is one of my favorites because it shows just how high we are and just how insane people are. Please notice the gentleman (because no lady would be that stupid) perched on the SIDE of the rock down below.

I'm starting to relax... and then it hits me. I have to climb back down.

If I could put this height/angle/death-defying/stupid adventure into one picture, it would be the picture G took (she was one of the girls we left behind, but who made it to the cables as we came down) as she was descending this rock.

That's the jist of it. The end. This is what my friends and I like to call, "an adventure." I need new friends.

So the rest of the story is completely irrelevant to this adventure. We made it down the rock alive (duh, I'm typing this now), we painfully made it back to camp, blah blah blah. The moral of my story is that I'm a crazy whore who gets herself into stupid circumstances and can only regret it at the climax of each of those moments.

But I guess these wouldn't be called adventures if they weren't challenging me to my core.

Cheers to Half Dome. I owned that bitch! Sorta.

*It should be noted that the five of us made an agreement before we left that if anyone couldn't make the entire hike for whatever reason, they would have to turn back alone. It was kinda assumed that we could break our group apart if the pacing wasn't the same, as well.

I might be in love

2010-07-06T02:24:00.000-07:00

I got an email that some guy put me on his "favorites" list tonight on a dating website that I am a part of. Personally, just email me. It makes things a lot easier. Even still, I check these profiles out. This is what his said:

Talking about myself is just no fun, so I'll leave you with my favorite quote:

The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life.

Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a church... a home.

The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude... I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it.

And so it is with you... we are in charge of our attitudes.

Yes, I want to marry him.

Come and knock on my door...

2010-06-29T18:38:00.000-07:00

Let's talk about how much I hate where I live. Sure, I live by a university, AND it's an apartment complex but seriously folks? Seriously?

I've complained numerous times about dogs barking and whining because their selfish owners keep them locked up in a bedroom or on a balcony while they are at work. I think I actually got someone kicked out because of my complaints. Either that or they gave their dog to someone who lived somewhere with an actual yard, like dog owners should do, unless they're taking their dog out for walks on their work breaks. I'm just saying. I'm not hating on my dog-owning readers... I'm just hating on my selfish dog owning readers.

I've complained about noise in the wee early hours (or late hours, depending on how you look at it) of the morning/night. It's like, I get it, you want to have friends over and smoke weed and drink on your balcony. I have no problem with that (really, I don't). But see, some of us have this thing called a job (maybe you've heard the term before?) and actually need sleep so that their students don't walk all over them the next morning. Sure, party... whatever. But make the cut-off at like 10 or 11pm on weekdays, will ya? I'll even give you until 12am on weekends. But seriously, have a little respect after that.

I've complained (and this was my favorite) on some residents (or perhaps not?) playing an actual game of BB guns at 11pm one weeknight. I kid you not, I heard little gun shooting noises and thought for a second that perhaps it was an airsoft gun. So I looked out my window to check it out. And what I saw could only make me laugh. There were two people hiding behind what looked to be an electrical breaker or something of that nature with guns in their hands and padding/guards on. And then I listened... and I heard them talking about their game plans on how they were going to shoot their BB gun. Yeah. I'm not kidding. There must have been another team across the courtyard because I kept hearing, "Are you ready?!" in a shouting whisper.

I've complained about the incessant dog piss that "trickles" down from the balcony above me. I remember one day I heard the noise of water dripping. Well, it wasn't so much dripping as it was flushing down. I actually thought my neighbors were cleaning their balcony. I think I actually smiled at the thought of clean neighbors. I heard it a few times after that and starting thinking, wow, these people are really clean. And then one day (and I have a friend who was staying over that can attest to this moment), I opened my slider (because I don't have central air) and WHOOSH! The smell of dog piss flooded my nostrils. So, being the mathematician that I am, I put 2 and 2 together and realized that my neighbors weren't clean at all. In fact, their asshole dog was pissing on their balcony and it had been trickling down and landing on mine for weeks!! I immediately called management and after two complaints (yes, 2), it was taken care of. For a few months. And then it happened again today. I fucking hate this place.

I have not complained about the guy (and chick? still not sure) who live above me whom I have had the joy of hearing have sex more than once. Please, if you live in an apartment and want to get it on, close your windows. That precious dilemma led me to wearing ear plugs at night. Oh yeah, and I still wear them nightly.

I have not complained about my upstairs neighbor, who, I swear to god, wears anvils on his feet when he walks around. And sometimes, I think he jumps off his couch and lands so hard that I have to stop for a second to make sure we're not having (another) earthquake. And he's up all hours of the night. Squeak, pound, crack... this is what I hear at 3am. The earplugs have helped, I admit, but there are some nights that I still hear it.

I have not complained about the couple (oh wait, I think I hear them right now...weird) who (oh my god, I think he just beat her because she screamed so loud) argue so loudly that I feel like I'm sitting in their apartment listening to it. One day the argument lasted more than an hour and then continued on later that evening. It was pleasant. From what I gather, she's "fucking" tired of him doing "fucking" nothing. Actually, it was great entertainment and I wasn't the only one looking out of my window trying to figure out which apartment it was coming from. I oftentimes text my friends throughout these ordeals and keep them updated.

Oh, and who can forget about the little old Mexican couple/family who lived next door to me and had one of the worst and loudest arguments I've ever heard. From what I gathered, the family was together, having a few drinks (probably celebrating a Tuesday or something). And by a few drinks, I mean an entire bottle of tequila+. By the time I got home, the festivities were loud. If you've ever seen the movie, "A Walk in the Clouds" with Keanu Reeves and you remember the girl's dad who was old school Mexican and total machismo... that was my neighbor dad.

And he was wasted. Completely wasted. But havin a great time (kudos). And then his daughter (who I don't think lived there) and her boyfriend went out on the balcony (which is attached to mine) and had a freakin argument. The pansy boyfriend made a comment about her dad maybe drinking too much (at least this is what I gather). She ripped into the poor guy, telling him that he better never tell her that her dad is drinking too much ever again and he was just having a good time (the bitch was PISSED). Well, I think "A Walk in the Clouds" dad got wind of this and flipped out because the next thing I knew, he was slurring/yelling at his daughter and her boyfriend in Spanish and the daughter was yelling back and the mother was trying to calm people down and it wasn't working. It lasted about 5 minutes, which is a long-ass time if you're me, listening in. It was pure mouth-opened awesomeness. At one point, security came and knocked on their door. I know because I looked out my peephole (don't judge me) and saw (and kinda heard) him telling the family they needed to keep it down. So then it calmed down. For juuuuuust about enough time for security guy to walk away. Next thing I know, they're all standing in the doorway (because I can see this out of my peephole) yelling at each other. The daughter was saying to her boyfriend, "Let's go!" and the father was slurring something in Spanish and the mother was trying to calm the dad down. Door slams (scene). Oh but wait, it wasn't over... "A Walk in the Clouds" Dad comes barreling out, yelling something in Spanish. What I got out of the diatribe was "... the devil!!!!" It sounded something like this (slurring): "blah blah blah blah el diablo!" Being the Spanish connoisseur that I am, I assumed the dad was mad and calling the boyfriend, who obviously started the entire argument because he totally judged his now probably ex-father-in-law for drinking too much, the devil! Well, of course he's the devil. Of course.

See, now that I've written about that last story, all of my tension has been put to ease remembering the awesomeness of that night. But that still doesn't take away the fact that I ran into their office this morning (after I had marked it on my calendar) to give them my 60-day notice to mutha fuckin vacate, bitches!! I shall begin my countdown.... now.

Always their kid

2010-06-26T23:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I left in the early morning to go on, what turned out to be, a rather long hike. While I was hiking, I left my phone in my car because a) I didn't get reception where I was, and b) why do I need my phone? I was with two other friends and we were going to be on a marked trail.

Apparently that was a bad decision. My mom tried to get ahold of me more than once throughout the day and that turned into my dad texting me (my parents don't text, but know very well that I live my life texting) and that turned into my brother and sister-in-law texting and emailing me and THAT turned into my parents driving out to my place, 25 miles away, and searching my apartment, hoping to not find me dead. None of these things bother me in the least bit, in terms of invasion of privacy. I gave my parents my apartment key for a number of reasons. I honestly have nothing to hide from them. And they don't abuse it.

I finally got to an area with reception 8 hours later. Yeah. You can imagine the noises my phone was making once there was clearance. But I was driving, so I let it all go. And then my phone rang. For some reason, I knew the only people that might call were my parents and I knew I had been gone all day so I answered. My mom had a melt-down.

After I got off the phone, I wasn't sure if I should be really angry or feel really bad. After all, I am a grown adult and I shouldn't have to check in with my parents when I go places. And believe me, I don't and they don't expect me to. But what could I have done to ensure that nothing like this happened again? I had to take into consideration that my mom just lost her mom and she is in high-stress mode. I don't blame her for that. And I understand it makes my parents reasonably uncomfortable that their daughter lives by herself, 25 miles from them. I realize that they trust that I make good decisions about dating guys and watching my surroundings at all times and locking my doors and so on and so forth. But I also realize that it's not my decision that they worry about so much, it's everyone else's around me.

So, although I've always realized this on the surface, it hit me that I'll always be their little girl. And this made me feel safe and emotional all at the same time. I had people who were honest-to-god worried about me. Sure, some might think they crossed the line and need to let me be independent. But I get it. I get why they worried. With my family, we have a basic process for communication. Some days we talk. Some days we don't. But when one of us calls the other, we expect a call back. And when we try again and again and again and there's no response, a warning sign goes off. I'm not angry with my parents. Instead, I feel horribly guilty. I'm not about to change how I live my life with no one to answer to, but I also feel a responsibility to let others know when I'm doing something out of the ordinary. No parent should have to drive to their daughter's apartment and unlock the door, hoping to god they don't find her lifeless body. That's ultimately what happened to them yesterday.

The only reasonable solution we could come up with is me giving them some of my closest friends' numbers so that, in cases such as yesterday's, they have some form of communication with people who might know where I am. And sure, none of my friends know where I am at all moments of any given day, but they have ways to find me. Luckily, all of my friends on my contact list were more than willing to help out and understood completely.

So today I am grateful to have a family who cares so much about me and friends who are so understanding about this.

My reward

2010-06-20T20:14:00.000-07:00

This is a recent email from a student I had 6 years ago. She just graduated from high school. What a reward for me....

hey [insert what my students call me here], i just wanted to say thanks again for coming to my graduation and my party. i know you don't believe me when i say 6th grade was my favorite year of school and you are undoubtably the best teacher i've ever had. you were a teacher that let us have fun, but never let us walk all over you. you taught us math and how to read where the red fern grows but you also taught us how to solve our problems and how to listen to people. you gave us responsibilities and made all of us feel important. you pushed us to do our best but never made us feel bad for messing up ( in my case drawing ugly pictures ) you gave us influences from roman and egyptian rules to the beatles. you made fun of us but we also made fun of you. you let us come back to your classroom and almost destroy it and go in your drawers and throw stuff and try and lock you out of your own classroom. you listened to our jr high and high school stories and laughed at our lives and plugged your ears at our actions! i think 6th grade is an important year. it's kind of a turning point when we're getting ready to go to jr high and decide what kind of person you're going to be. this is going to sound so lame and you're probably going to make fun of me but the kind of person i wanted to be was you. i wanted to play adult soccer, have a career, be funny, be nice, and not to mention be cute. all this to say, thank you. a lot. you were a huge influence in my life and you still are. i'm really thankful you were my teacher and now you're my friend.

love you [insert what my students call me here].

Class of 2004

2010-06-10T21:33:00.000-07:00

This moment right here is why I love what I do. These are kids from my second year's class, who graduated from high school tonight. I got an invite from one of the girls and proudly attended, cheering for all the names I recognized. After the ceremony, there were also former students arriving for the next ceremony (our district does high school graduations at a minor league hockey arena). Anyway, we got six of them together to pose for this shot. This was probably one of the best, most memorable classes I've ever had. These guys were like a family for the entire year. Many of them remained friends throughout Jr. high and high school. I felt like a proud mom tonight.

The Grams of all Grams...

2010-06-08T20:15:00.000-07:00

This is the letter I wrote to my grandma when I found out that she stopped eating and drinking and hospice was giving her 2 weeks to live. She passed away this morning (less than 24 hours later). My plan was to read this to her as she lay sleeping, which is what she was doing 95% of the time in her last few weeks. I didn't get the chance to do that, so this is my memorial to her. I will miss her dearly and I love her with all of my heart.

Grandma,

This is really hard for me to do. As I sit here typing this out, I imagine myself being really uncomfortable reading this to you as you sit and prepare for your exit out of this life. And when I try and figure out why it makes me so uncomfortable, it’s because this is not you. In my head, this is not my grandma lying here in this bed. This hasn’t been you for a very long time. I watched you slowly become less and less of who I knew you to be in the last few years. And I’ve stayed away. I’m so sorry, but it was so hard for me to watch you deteriorate. You weren’t my grandma and I was scared to watch you go away.

I wanted to remember you not as you are now, but as you were when I was younger. The grandma who sat and ate a bowl of Cheetos and oranges with me. The grandma who would sit on one side of the couch and strong-arm my feet. I remember finally figuring out that all I had to do was lock my knees and I’d win every time. I remember sharing my room with you when you’d spend the night and we’d stay up and watch Arsenio Hall, because you liked when he did his trademark, “Woo! Woo! Woo!” (I also remember you snoring.) I remember all the Christmases you and Auntie Elva would spend with us. You were always the first one up, waking me up and getting me to go in Mom and Dad’s room to wake them up. I remember when you and Grandpa bought me and Bryan those bikes; and our first TVs. And when you bought us (or Auntie Elva made us) all our school clothes. I was so excited to go shopping with you. I remember you at my soccer games, you and Auntie Elva cheering us on from the shady part of the sideline. I was always so excited to say hi to you at halftime or after the game. I wanted you to be proud of how good I was.

I wanted you to be proud of me in everything I did. And I knew you were. When I’d call and talk to you and I’d tell you something I did that I didn’t think was such a big deal, I remember you always getting excited for me. I can hear your voice in my head, “Tsk. Ooohhhh, look at you!” And I’d giggle because I didn’t think what I did was so fabulous. But I knew you were proud of me. And that was all that really mattered. I loved that I could call you and just be really sarcastic and it would make you laugh. I don’t even know if you got my jokes or my sarcasm, but you laughed and I loved that.

So here I sit, remembering why you were such a huge part of my life, and realizing that this is the end. I know this has been a difficult few years for you. It has been for us to see you in so much pain, mentally and physically. I know you’re ready. I don’t want you to go, but I know you’re ready. So I want you to know that I’m sorry that I haven’t been around in the last few years. I’m sorry that this has been so difficult for me to watch. But know that I think you’re the greatest grandma in the world. Know that I couldn’t have asked for a better grandma. You spoiled me like any grandma should have. You were proud of my accomplishments because I could hear it in your voice and see it in your face. Thank you for playing that role in my life.

I love you, Grandma. Go ahead and leave this life. You deserve to be out of the pain you are in right now. We will be sad you’re gone, but relieved that you are at peace. Look down on me from where ever you go and continue to smile and be proud of me. I know you will. I have faith in at least that.

Suuuuuch a daddy's girl

2010-05-03T21:08:00.000-07:00

Maaaaaaaan... I haven't been doing very well at this. See this is the thing, it's not that I'm NOT thankful for many things in my life, because I so am. It's just that I don't want to post a thankful post just for the sake of posting. I want it to actually mean something to me at that moment in my life.

So here goes...

Thankful post #6

Today (well, everyday) I am thankful for my daddy.

I can't even begin to tell you how wonderful a man he is. It's weird that I've always known this, but I've never really known this. I guess growing up in a family where the parents are still together and they're both very supportive of their children is something I didn't realize was rare. It wasn't until I probably hit college when I realized that I was lucky. And that's when I was more aware of how my relationship with my mom was something I appreciated. But I never really thought about my dad.

But now, after going through these last two years of dating, I've come to realize (through the guys' perspectives) that a girl who has issues in relationships (I'm talking serious issues in relationships) is almost always directly correlated to her relationship with her dad. She's too clingy? Daddy left when she was 8. She's kind of a whore? Daddy left when she was 12. She's a party girl? Daddy was never around. She's always looking for validation from men? Daddy wanted a boy and got her. And it makes sense. It makes sooooo much sense.

Now my daddy was an awesome dad. Sure, he worked a lot as I was growing up, but he always had Saturdays off. And Saturdays for my family were all about soccer. Everyone knew us. Everyone knew my dad. He coached. He refereed (he still does, in fact). He was on the board. I didn't know any different. It was the only life I knew. I thought everyone's dad was cool like mine.

My dad will still make time to come out and support me in any event that I'm in. When I was playing soccer in the adult recreation league these past few years, he was almost always at my games. He isn't as critical of my playing as he used to be when I was a real soccer player, but just having him there was and is always awesome.

But this is what I've noticed about him recently. My grandma (my mom's mom) is living her final days here in this thing we call life. She's been sick for about 3 years now. My parents have been taking care of her here and there (every weekend for awhile) for the time she's been sick. Sure, she's my mom's mom, but my dad has stepped up to the plate for her more times than I can count. And not for small things. I'm talking things that you may not even want to do for your own parent, but know you'll probably have to one day. And he's never complained once. My grandma was recently put into the care of hospice. My mom suggested that they bring my grandma to my parents' home so that they could take care of her. My dad had it all planned out: he would take a leave of absence from his (after-retirement-and-I'm-too-bored-to-stay-at-home) job and take care of my grandma so that my mom wouldn't have to quit her job. Seriously? That's my dad. My grandma coming to my parents' house for care ultimately didn't end up happening because her wishes were to be at her own home. So my dad drives my mom out to see her mom (about 35 miles one way) almost everyday. And when he's there, he'll help with things. He'll clean up the backyard or replace a broken something-or-other. He never complains.

My dad has also voluntarily stepped up and asked to babysit both of my nieces in their early years. My brother and his wife were really hoping to not put either of them in daycare, so my dad said that he would help out 2 days a week. I can't even tell you how awesome it is to see him with both of the girls. He's developed such a strong relationship with the 4-year old (he's watched her since she was months old) and is now developing that same relationship with the 8-month old. And he does it all... without any complaint. He changes diapers. He rocks them to sleep. He feeds them. He dances with them. He reads to them. He takes them outside so that he can teach them to love kicking a soccer ball.

Someone said to me the other day that my dad was awesome. I've heard it many times before, but it kinda stuck with me this time around. Everyone loves my dad. They always have. I'm used to people saying it. But it hit me the other day that he's my dad. My dad is the cool dad. My dad is the guy who everyone loves. I'm so freakin lucky. I really am.

So now I've decided that I need to meet a guy like my dad. It's always been in the back of my mind (because I think it's just something that most girls who have good relationships with their dads think about), but it really sticks out to me now. He sacrifices, he is great with kids, he is loved and respected by everyone, he has great relationships... that's the kind of man I want to be with. So that's the kind of man I shall look for.

Ain't nothin gonna break my stride...

2010-04-13T13:58:00.000-07:00

Thankful post #5 (it's been awhile)
Today I am thankful for my job.

Sure, some people may teach because they get summers off. Some people may teach because they think it's 'easy.' Why do I teach? I hope it's why most teachers teach. I teach because I seriously have a passion for what I do. Although the kids can drive me crazy, the make me laugh at least once a day.

I have a relationship with the class as a whole. They know when they can push me and when I'm about to lose my mind. They can tell by the tone of my voice or by a look on my face when I'm going to be funny, be serious, or be pissed off. A few will warn the others with a simple, "Shhhhhh..." One of the class clowns might throw in a quick joke that they know will make me laugh. They can tell. They know me.

And I know them. Each one of them. I can tell when they haven't eaten breakfast, or when they are at Dad's place instead of Mom's. I can tell when a parent completely embarrasses them in a conference. I can tell when they just need a positive comment or a quick conversation to let them know that I'm rooting for them. I can tell when they're about to do something they're not supposed to, or if they just did. I can tell when they're lying (most of the time), or when not turning in their homework really wasn't their fault. I develop relationships with all of my students.

I teach because I make a difference. The thing is, I can't often tell that this is taking place. My end result isn't necessarily tangible. I don't see the final sale of a product or the look on a satisfied customer's face. These kids don't come up to me at the end of the year and tell me, "Gee, I sure did learn a lot from you this year. Let me count the ways..." I get something even better. They show me that I made a difference by begging one of their parents to drive them back to their elementary school just so they can visit me. Year after year. And when they can drive themselves, they do. Sure, this doesn't happen with every kid; it doesn't even happen with most. But I've been doing this for 8 years and I have students that come back, year after year, even when they're in college.

I know I make a difference.

I look at what the state is doing to education in these difficult times. I see friends of mine losing their jobs; friends who have the same feelings that I do about why they do what they do. I find it disturbing that the cuts go directly to the classroom. I see how the cuts are affecting students and I can only imagine the long-term negative effects they will have on students. With all of this, I am still thankful that I do what I do.

The reality is that I'm lucky. I'm lucky because I've found a career that I love and that challenges me daily. I'm lucky because I love what I teach, who I teach, and where I teach. I have administrators who back me up and respect that I know what I'm doing. I have parents of students who pull for me when they hear I might be displaced to another school. I am well-respected and I've worked hard for it. Which is great, because I'm not planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

"Go long!"

2010-03-31T22:26:00.000-07:00

Thankful post #4
Today I am thankful for my independence.

Yeah, I know that sounds crazy because I'm always talking about how I want to be in relationship and all, but I really am happy that I am free and independent. This is the thing... I want to share my free-spirited experiences with my partner. I want to be able to be with someone who loves to just make plans and go whenever and where ever.

But for now, I don't have that person, and I'm ok with that.

What I'm talking about in this post is my independence where I am able to do whatever I want (like last minute plans or big trips), whenever I want. For example, a few friends and I are planning on hiking Half Dome this summer. I love that I can get the invite, not really think too much about it, and just go. The thing I love most about it is that I'm up for any new challenge, pretty much whenever. And I have a group of friends that are willing to do pretty much anything.

But let's talk about this Half Dome trip... A) I've never been to Yosemite, but have always wanted to go. B) This hike is about 16 miles (8-10 hours). I love to hike, but my hikes these days consist of about 5 miles, max. So I'm a bit scared, but I am excited for this challenge (and we know how I love me some challenges).

Just to give you an idea... this is Half Dome (the "half dome" on the right).

We will not be hiking up this particular side of it. We will be hiking up the side that you can't see, which looks like this (below) on the ascent up.

Those are actual cables that help you get up that last part to get to the top. No, you don't have to be harnessed in or anything (though you can), but still. And this is what is looks like from the top.

I can't necessarily guarantee that I'll be the one getting this close to the edge (as I'm pretty afraid of heights), but I will be on the summit, which we've been told is about 700-800 yards across. So I'm sure I'll find plenty of open space to maneuver around on (or perhaps throw a football around on). No need to get close to the edge.

So anyway, this hike will be in the beginning of July and I look forward to the adventure. I am thankful that I am willing and able (hopefully) to do these kinds of things.

I ate, I didn't pray, and love... really?

2010-03-30T21:18:00.000-07:00

Thankful post #3
Today I am thankful for Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert.

I know, this sounds odd that I am thankful for a book, but I am. If anyone hasn't read this book, it's a memoir about a woman who goes through a horrible divorce and finds herself in a yearlong journey out of the country. She goes to Italy because she loves the language (and the food), then to India to find spirituality, and then in Indonesia she finds love.

I read the book when I was in my last relationship and automatically fell in love with it. There was something about her witty, unapologetic writing that I got me hooked within the first few pages. I remember going to Borders looking for a new read and picking up that book, having no idea what it was about... I just loved the cover. I sat down to read a few pages and literally read almost 100 pages in the store that night. It just hooked me in. I related to the story at that point in my life because she talked about how she fell right into a relationship after she left her husband. This new relationship was a guy that she was obsessed with and the way she was describing it was exactly how I felt with my "1st love."

And then she takes the leap to leave everything she knows and travel for a year by herself. All for a chance at self discovery. Of course at that time in my life, this idea was only a dream for me. Something that women like her did, not girls like me. But how whimsical and brave it would be to fly overseas by myself to explore.

This book was my inspiration to take my trip. THE trip that I took the day after I turned 30. My first time out of the country. By myself. It was the stepping stone to my self discovery back in the day.

So there's an Eat Pray Love movie coming out and I'm soooooo excited. Not only because I adore this book, but because Julia Roberts is playing Elizabeth Gilbert's character. What a great casting choice. And because of this movie, I've decided to read the book again. So much has happened to me since I read the book (before the last relationship ended) and because I read the book. I'm about halfway done, but it's interesting to see it through a new set of eyes, so to speak. I hope to gain something new from it.

So, thank you to Eat Pray Love, and to Elizabeth Gilbert. Your book made me see things about myself that I wanted, but didn't think I was even capable of. Now I know I am.

You seek up an emotion

2010-03-28T13:02:00.002-07:00

Thankful post #2
Today I am thankful for ability to feel, since I seem to feel things more deeply than most; or more deeply than most appear to.

The only way I can describe this is to tell you about when I ran into "love #2," a year after we broke up (a year since we had last spoken to each other) in the middle of a Vegas club (mind you, at that time, we lived 3 miles from each other and I saw him once in an entire year, driving). I was with a group of friends (the main one, who I've recently broken up with), celebrating a divorce.* It was our second night in Vegas, our second night of meeting random guys that would buy our drinks and let us be their arm candy for the night. It's Vegas, that's how it happens.

So anyway, we're all dressed up, having just met up with a group of guys that we had met at the pool earlier in the day (none of which I had the slightest interest in - but I'm a team player). I was wearing a dress that I had spent a day shopping for (I hate short Vegasy type dresses, but knew I had to get one because it was Vegas), and I actually felt like I looked pretty hot. We're on the dance floor and one of the girls in our group walks up with a guy. I look at her and I'm like, "Ummm... where'd you find him and can you introduce me to his friends?" So she obliges and we walk across the club to meet up with her new friend's friends. As soon as I turn the corner, I see 'love #2" and I say, "Oh my god, that's my ex boyfriend," whereupon he spots me and probably has the same "oh shit" thought cross his mind. Instead of running away (like I probably should have done), I walk over to him and we give each other a hug.

I spent the next hour talking to him. The talking started out with an awkward, "Hey, how have you been," and evolved into me telling him everything I had learned about us and me since we had parted and him (I felt like) trying to one-up me on my revelations and experiences. I wasn't bitching, I was just word vomiting. Ok, maybe I was a little sarcastic and patronizing, but I blame that on the alcohol and lack of food. I also blame the apparent anxiety/panic attack that was slowly creeping up on me on the alcohol and lack of food. I was beginning to get fidgety and shaky and dizzy midway into our conversation. In fact, we were standing right next to a pool and I literally had to reach out and grab onto him at one point because I was losing my balance.

I don't know if it's just me, but standing there in front of an ex-boyfriend that has seen you naked numerous times, seen you be the happiest and saddest you've ever been, shared 2+ years with you, had numerous experiences and inside jokes and nicknames, who you once loved and thought you'd spend the rest of your life with ... it's an odd experience. They know you, but they don't really know you now. He didn't know who I was, a year after we had broken up... but he still knew who I was. We shared so many things for such a long period of time, and yet we stood there talking, like we were old friends who hadn't seen each other in a long time and were trying to catch up. It was too much for me to handle, yet it was everything that I had hoped for (to tell him everything that I had learned about us and me), all at the same time.

I finally got to the point where I was becoming increasingly anxious and uncomfortable with the situation. My friends were nowhere in sight and I was not strong enough at that point to just say goodbye and walk away unscathed. So I pulled out my phone and as quickly (and inconspicuously) as possible, texted one of my friends, who was in the club. I think the text said something like, "I need you NOW at the bar by the pool." Within 5 minutes she was there. I wish I could explain the reaction on her face when she saw why I needed her so badly. The save was brief and smooth. She walked up, said hello very coolly and calmly. Within 30 seconds, she asked me if I needed to go to bathroom and we were gone. He told me he'd email me and I said, "I won't hold my breath," and my friend whisked me away.

As soon as I was out of his view, I felt myself slowly falling apart. The tears were streaming and I began shaking uncontrollably. We somehow passed by my other friend (the now broken-up with one; but who had experienced the last year of healing with me) who caught wind of what was going on and literally lost her shit. She somehow found the ex, spit a few choice words at him (that I now think was more because of the fact that her night was possibly ruined and less about the fact that I was having a crisis) and walked away. I managed to get myself to a concrete bench, whereupon I literally fell apart. I spent the night awake, lying in bed with the feeling that I was having a heart attack. I even called my old roommate the next morning (who's a nurse) to describe my symptoms to her, asking if I should see a doctor. Turns out it was just an anxiety attack. I finally calmed down, right after I called my mom and cried it out. (Thank god for my mom... she's the best person in the world and always knows how to calm me down and slap me back into reality.)

It's hard to describe why I was so affected by him more than a year later. I wasn't emotional because I missed him, I was certain of that. But it was the first time I had seen him since the day we broke up, the first time I talked to him since the day after we broke up. I had gone through a lot of shit in that year. A lot of shit that I was proud of and that only he might be able to understand, because he was in the relationship with me. I think I pissed off the friends I was with because I was so affected. We actually had a conversation about it later the next day and one of them said, "It's difficult for me to understand why you are so emotionally affected by this a year later. I think it's because you're just one of those people who love so deeply that it's difficult for you to just bounce back from a long term relationship." Which was true. She was the one whose divorce was being finalized that weekend; the one we were on the trip celebrating. She wasn't devastated, she was actually happy. Maybe she was just a very guarded person. Maybe I was just too emotional and attached. Who's to judge?

But this ability to feel deeply is something that I've always had. When my heart is broken, it affects me very deeply. When I see a sad or moving commercial or event on TV, I cry. I get the fact that some women are affected by these things as well, but I just feel like I have a ton of emotion stored up in me. And I'm ok with that. I've just come to the conclusion that I am a crier and it doesn't mean that I'm a PMSing bitch, it just means that I cry a lot. Whoever I marry will just have to be ok with that because I can't hold that shit in. It's impossible.

So, in summary, I'm an emotional ~~freak~~ person and I'm thankful that I am able to feel these emotions so fiercely. It just means that I'm human and am capable of feeling, (which is difficult for some people - I've learned that much in my 31 years of life).

*Is it odd that nowadays women (and probably men) celebrate the end of a relationship that they, at one time, vowed to be in for the rest of their lives?

Word vomit

2010-03-27T13:07:00.000-07:00

Thankful post #1
Today I will begin by being thankful for my ability to write.

I remember being in my 10th grade English class and my teacher was going over how to make writing "flow." She was showing examples of writing that "flowed" and to my surprise (and delight), my paper (on who knows what) went up on the overhead. From that moment on, I was convinced that I was a writer. I joined the high school [excuse for a] newspaper and went on to become the sports' editor my senior year. Granted, I didn't do a fantastic job of getting the 'hard stuff' (I didn't even go to games), but the honor was there. I even went into college with Journalism as my major, but soon realized that real, journalistic-style writing was not my thing. I'm all about throwing my opinion in there, and couldn't be confined to just writing about facts. Boring.

So since that day in high school, I've kinda had this "I'm a good writer" mentality, whether it's true or not.

And whether you know me or not, my mind works at a very rapid pace. I'm an over-analyzer and a very deep thinker. I'm always thinking. However, I can't always communicate things verbally very well because my mind is so ADHD and I go off topic a lot. I will literally be telling a story and forget why I was telling the story in the first place. It's a problem. Oftentimes I will have to write out my feelings before talking about a problem with another person so that I can remember to stick to what I wanted to say.

So I write. When I have a pressing issue, I write it out. Most of the time it doesn't make sense on the first round of writing it, but just getting my thoughts out is the release I'm looking for. It's like word vomit. I feel like I'm going to explode before I get in front of a computer, but once it's all out, I feel so much better. And then I edit it.

So when I started this blog, I realized that although it might be entertaining for others to read (if anyone ever read it), it was more of a release for me. And that especially became true when I went through the breakup and therapy. One of the things on my "what do I want to do before I die" list is to write a book about my relationships. I don't for any reason think that my problems are any more "bookworthy" than many other women out there, but I think that if women got to read about other women who have/have had the same problems as them, it might make them feel less like a freak of nature. Some of my favorite books are about women who have had relationship issues or who have found enlightenment through their journey of self discovery. And that will be my purpose when I finally feel it's the right time to write my book. So this blog also serves as an electronic diary of the events to fuel my book in the future. Along with the many pen-and-paper diaries and other things I've written that I've kept. I like to prepare for these things.

So, in summary, today I am thankful for my ability to write clearly and "flowingly," while (hopefully) keeping others entertained/enlightened though my emotional releases.

So much to say, so much to say, so much to say...

2010-03-27T11:44:00.000-07:00

I went out for an impromptu dinner and drinks with some friends last night and had a really good time. I laughed and made future plans and for once in a really long time, felt ok about being 31 and single. I was in the moment with these fellow 30-something single ladies and I just felt free. It was nice.

Then I went to yoga (reluctantly) this morning and was scrutinizing myself over my body and my lack of flexibility in comparison to others in the class. It kills me how I can change so quickly. One of the final poses in yoga is the relaxation part where you just lie there and focus on your breathing or the music... and my mind starting wandering.

I thought of the practice. I thought of religions that might surround this practice. I thought of how we're studying Buddhism in class right now. I started thinking about what the main ideas of Buddhism are and how we suffer because we want. I started thinking about what I wanted. I want my job to be safe. I want more money so that I can travel whenever I want and not be in debt. I thought, yeah, sure these are things that I want, but have trained myself to believe that in the end, I can live without these things and still be content (yes, even without my job).

So I pushed myself to go even further. What is it that I want so badly that I literally make myself suffer because I think I'll be miserable if I ultimately end up not getting it? And then it hit me. A relationship. To be in love again. Someone to ultimately share my life with. I'm struggling with this issue in my life so badly right now. I wake up trying to live my days not being consumed by it. I try to keep an open, patient mind, but literally beat myself up daily because I don't have it. I've even thought about going back to therapy to help me with this overwhelming need. My biggest fear right now is being single and alone for the rest of my life. No one to share my life with; no kids, no husband... nothing. Sure, my family will always be there and I love them dearly, but it's just not the same. I yearn so badly to have someone to share my life with right now.

And it's because of this that I feel like I'm not getting it. I feel like I'm falling back into needing someone else to complete me. It's a different feeling this time around, as I'm more aware that I really don't need it and am, in fact, capable of being alone. But it's still there. This time around it's more of a need for partner to share my life with, rather than a guy to validate how I feel about myself. I'm alone. I'm lonely. I'm not depressed, but I do get sad and frustrated a lot. When everything happened after the last relationship and I learned all of those valuable lessons about myself in therapy, I started to think that this was what I needed to make things happen for me. I needed to find out who I was without a relationship. I'm an independent strong woman that doesn't need a man to make her feel whole. And sure, I feel that way, but just because I know I don't need a man to take care of me doesn't mean that I don't want it.

It's been almost 2 years since my last relationship. Since the last time I was in love. It's odd because in therapy, I discovered that since I was 18, I had been in love with someone. I fell in love with the '1st love' at 18. And I literally didn't stop loving him until I was well into my '2nd love.' Sounds odd, I know. When the 'first love' and I finally stopped our 8+ year torrid off-and-on relationship, I was in a new relationship with my '2nd love' within 3 months. When the 2+ year '2nd love' relationship ended, I was turning 30. What a revelation to make at 30. I had been in love for over 10 years. So this feeling of having no one to love is difficult.

What makes it even more difficult is that because I don't have it, I'm beginning to really scrutinize myself over it. There have been guys in the last 2 years, don't get me wrong. Just no one that's lasted. And I think, why does this one not want me? Am I too picky to not want that one? I'm starting to hate my body. I'm the heaviest I've ever been at this point in my life. I get it, most people look at me and think, but you're not heavy. But I feel like I am. And I'm trying to stay active and either lose the weight or tone up, but I feel like it's just not happening.

So needless to say, I'm focusing on a lot of negatives in my life right now. And I'm sick of it.

It's amazing how things in my life connect at this point. Yoga is part of the Buddhist religion. I'm teaching about early India and Buddhism right now. Maybe I should apply the beliefs of Buddhism (a religion that I find so fascinating) in my own life.

Please excuse the Social Studies religion lesson, but it's so pertinent. These are the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism:
The first truth is that life is suffering. Life includes pain, getting old, disease, and ultimately death. We also endure psychological suffering like loneliness, frustration, boredom, fear, embarrassment, disappointment and anger.

The second truth is that suffering is caused by craving and the needing to control things. It can take many forms: the desire for fame; the desire to avoid unpleasant sensations like fear, anger or jealousy.

The third truth is that suffering can be overcome and happiness can be attained; that true happiness and contentment are possible. If we let go of our craving and learn to live each day at a time (not dwelling in the past or the imagined future) then we can become happy and free. We then have more time and energy to help others. This is Nirvana.

The fourth truth is that the Noble 8-fold Path is the path which leads to the end of suffering.

My intention here is to not become a Buddhist. My problem with being confined to a certain religion prohibits that. My intention instead is to internalize this and apply what I need to my life at this present moment.

I need to stop living for the future. I think I've done a much better job (through therapy) to not live in the past. I've let go of a lot of demons and am standing much taller than I was 2 years ago. But I still struggle with living for the future. I am not a fortune teller, I cannot tell the furture. Nor can I dwell on the what ifs of my life, specifically in the future. I need to instead live for today. I need to not take for granted what I have in the here and now. I need to stop complaining about what I don't have yet and start being thankful for what I have now.

So this is my new focus, and I'm going to use this blog for it. I've felt like I've needed a new focus on this blog for a very long time. In the beginning, it was mostly about working through my issues with the breakup and with therapy. And it helped. I felt like what I said mattered and that if it wasn't therapeutic for anyone else reading it, it was at least therapeutic for me. But, as many of those who read this blog frequently may have noticed (whoever you are out there), I haven't had much to say lately. Call it a writer's block, call it not feeling like there was anything important going on in my life at the moment... I was at a standstill. But that is no longer the truth for me. I have things that are going on in my life that are worthwhile, I have just chose to focus on the negatives (what wasn't happening).

So from here on until who knows when, I am going to focus my posts on what I am thankful for; what I have in my life that I have obviously taken for granted in the last year or so. In doing this, I hope to take my focus away from the negativity that my mind's become so accustomed to pushing me toward, and push it toward more positive, appreciate-the-now thoughts. I encourage anyone who reads this to post comments on things you're thankful for or appreciaitve of. Who knows, maybe I'll start a revolution with the 3 followers that I have... (shout-out to those ladies!)

I'm finally feeling like this blog (and I) have a purpose again! Ahhh, the freedom of it all...

Bleh

2010-03-17T21:38:00.001-07:00

I feel like I'm at a standstill. I feel like I just exist throughout my days. I feel like there is nothing exciting to look forward to. Not in a I-don't-want-to-live-anymore kind of way, but in a I'm-bored-and-need-something-new kind of way. I'm considering going back to therapy because that's what stemmed the original awesomeness that makes me yearn for excitement in the first place, but I don't really have a compelling reason to other than, "I'm bored." I mean, yeah, I could talk to the guy about how I'm not happy with my body right now (ugh, don't get me started on that) or about how I'm sick and tired of being single and meeting all the wrong guys (did I tell you about the one who literally hit on my friend?) or about how I might lose my job of eight years in June... but that's not shit he can help me figure out.

I just need something. I need something soon. I need something I can throw myself into and bathe in the gloriousness of how it's continuing my change of making me into a better person. I need a challenge. And I almost don't want it to be a new guy... because I'm at the point where I feel like I'm so desperate for something exciting, I would throw myself too much into it.

Someone please tell me what this is supposed to be? Someone send me a sign? What is the next chapter of my life supposed to be and when it is going to begin?

Dear salvatore25,

2010-03-03T20:37:00.000-08:00

This is an email that I just got on PlentyofFish..

hello can i tap that

Why yes, kind sir, you can.
WTF? Who literally would say yes to that? Ugh.

Bastard gut

2010-02-27T09:45:00.000-08:00

I almost did it this time. I almost went with my gut from the very beginning. And if I had, I wouldn't feel betrayed right now. I'm learning. Slowly but surely, I'm learning. I can at least now recognize that the gut feeling is there, instead of ignoring it completely and riding it out with my entire heart being given, only for it to be smashed into pieces years later. At least this time I was only halfway into it, knowing that I had to stay my distance and not get too involved.

Moving on to the next one.

What do you want to do before you die?

2010-02-24T20:42:00.000-08:00

Attend a party at the Playboy Mansion. Make a toast at a stranger's wedding. Ask out the girl of your dreams. Help deliver a baby. Compete in a krump competition. Play basketball with Obama.

The Buried Life.

This show follows four guys on a quest to cross items off a list of 100 things that they would like to do before they die. They live in a bus that they drive around the nation, accomplishing these goals. Sometimes they are successful, sometimes they aren't. But for every one thing they try and cross off, they do one thing for someone else. Strangers. Literally. They meet these people in the cities they travel through, ask them what they want to do before they die, and pick people to help. People of all ages, with all types of dreams.

They've raised money to buy a computer for a 5th grade class at an underpriviledged charter school. They've helped a father contact his son that he hadn't seen or spoken to in 17 years. They've helped an 11-year old girl conquer her fear of riding roller coasters. They've helped a young woman, whose mom died because of Hurricane Katrina and was buried in another state because of the chaos, get to her mom's grave site. They've helped four old friends reunite and go back to their old hang out. They've helped a young guy, whose life is surrounded by drugs and gangs, get his song on the radio so that his grandmother could be proud of him for taking a positive step in his life.

These guys are amazing. And they're for real. You can just tell. They do these things. They make the phone calls and talk to strangers and raise the money for plane fares or computers.

This show brings me hope. Hope that there are still young people in this nation that aren't out for their own selfish pleasures. Hope that there are still men out there that really care about helping others. Hope that you can, in fact, do anything.

This small tidbit from the show's bio explains why I love this show so much:
This series explores the exciting wonders of human potential and the exhilaration of going after one's dreams-those dreams too often buried by everyday life. This is the incredible and hard to believe true story of a journey called The Buried Life.

Who woulda thought that a show on MTV would have evoked so many emotions from me? I cry and smile every time I watch this show. I kid you not. If you haven't checked out this show, you must. Now.

Dear Valentine's Day,

2010-02-13T09:06:00.000-08:00

I'm not afraid of you. Bring it.

Ok, maybe I'm a little afraid of you. But I think I'm doing a great job of acting like I'm not. Maybe I've actually done such a fabulous job of convincing myself that I'm not afraid, I might actually not be afraid.

And really, why are you so scary again? Because you ooze red and pink and hearts and love and candy and flowers? Seems kinda cheesy, to me. And yet, somehow, your meaning has been pounded into me since I was a little lad. Is it odd that now that I teach, the only three parties we're allowed to have during the school year are the Winter (Christmas) party, the end of the year party, and the Valentine's Day party. (If you're wondering why our parties are actually limited, it's because it would be a sin for the district to let us party any more than that, as we'd be doing more partying than learning.)

So as you approach, Valentine's Day, I don't feel a heavy heart. I actually don't feel anything, accept the fear that I might feel alone this weekend. It hasn't happened yet, but it might, and I'm scared of that. Which is like fearing everyday that I might die. I know, complete and total waste of time. (For the record, I don't fear dying everyday.)

So you take your pinks and reds and hearts and ooze and you cast your spell on someone else. I am loved. It may not be by a fancy gentleman, but I am loved. I have a ton of friends that would do anything for me and a family that is awesome.

So there.

Best wishes on your day,
Brandi (who's not going to feel alone this weekend)

Ewww....wwwwait a minute!

2010-02-01T16:50:00.000-08:00

So I got this email on Plentyoffish right now:

So, this is a bit out of the blue...but do you enjoy reading erotica...? I have been writing some on my downtime, and I would like to share it with someone for feedback...

I totally understand if you're not into it...most aren't...

Yeah, no. But thanks. I wonder who says yes..... I wonder if I should say yes.

*gasp!*

Should I say yes??? (Did you see the thought process come into fruition there?)

I'll keep his email handy in case I get an overwhelming urge to test the waters.

Patiently unpatient

2010-01-23T09:24:00.000-08:00

"I don't know what I'm doing."

That comment was probably the most epic of the week. A friend of mine, who just got out of a relationship of 13 years, said this to me at dinner the other night. I could tell she felt alone and lost. All I could tell her was that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, even if she didn't see it right now.

But all I could think was, "I don't either."

I spent so much of my life with a plan for my future. I don't have a plan right now. I've accomplished all of my earlier goals and don't know what to shoot for right now. I've been in this holding pattern for almost 2 years.

I don't know what I'm doing either.

Right now, I'm just living. And I enjoy it, don't get me wrong. But I need something. I need a goal. I need a challenge. I feel like it's just going to come to me at some point, maybe fall from the sky and land with a thud in my lap.... but I've been waiting for almost 2 years.

When will I know what the next chapter of my life will be?

The space between

2009-12-30T14:57:00.000-08:00

Long distance relationships... can they succeed? Is it actually possible for two people to be able to maintain a healthy connection, while miles apart? I'm talking enough miles to separate you so that you can't just get off work and go and visit that person for a few hours and then go home. This could be a lengthy drive or plane flight away.

My cousin is in a long distance relationship (LDR). She began dating her boyfriend when they lived near enough to one another (I would assume) and then he moved to England to go to grad school. That was like a year ago and they're still together.

But are LDRs cut out for everyone? I've tried this once. The boyfriend who I kept going back to over and over again had moved to Vegas and we had tried it out once while he was there. It was hard. It was also during the summer, when I was off work. Well, in my defense, I did have a summer job, working 8-4, Monday through Friday. So weekends were the only time we could see each other, if we could see each other. It obviously didn't work out, but was that because of the distance? In this case, I'd say probably not. It would have ended anyway. In fact, that relationship ending had nothing to do with geographical distance.

I've obviously been presented with an opportunity to be in a LDR. I say it like it's a business offer. But I feel like I'm weighing out the costs and benefits of it like it is one. Without getting into specifics, I met an amazing guy awhile back. At the time, I was in a "relationship", and had no idea this guy was attracted to me. Anyway, he began pursuing me after my last little "relationship" and I've kinda started to fall for him. But I can't get past the fact that he lives almost 2 hours away.

I had this conversation with him a few nights ago. Poor guy. He listened as I sat there and rattled off every reason why this wouldn't work. I don't want to be a weekend (or every other weekend) girlfriend. I will most likely start to resent the fact that we live so far away. I'm not equipped to deal with not being able to see him whenever I want to (within reason, of course). What happens if this goes further and one of us has to move.... Yeah, all of this word vomit was coming out of my mouth as if my brain had no filter. But this is who I am. I think and I catastrophize and I try and plan things that really have no business being planned. I don't just let things happen.

The thing that he said that kinda struck me (aside from pointing out that everything that I was saying was negatives about us being together) was that LDRs happen all the time. It's not like we're the only people in the history of relationships that have tried this. Well, yeah. Duh. But these people aren't me. Or maybe I'm just refusing to be them without actually trying. Why do I do that? Why do I try to solve all my problems so as to avoid being hurt or wrong or in a situation I'm not comfortable with? Why do I try to plan so much? Why can't I just live in the moment? Why can't I just stop looking and start living (yeah, kinda cliche, but it fit)?

So the only thing that I could comfortably decide on was trying this. Because if I don't try this, I will always wonder, what if? Yeah, he's that amazing of a guy that I have to try this. What I'm worried about is now that I've decided that much, will I ultimately destroy it with my already established negativity? I hope not. I hope to wholeheartedly give this LDR a chance. I do have hope that with enough communication and trust, this might actually work. That I might actually be destined to be with this guy. And if that's the case, let's get this going. I'm willing to put in the work if he is. I'm willing to sacrifice, as long as he is. Where it will take us... I guess only time and patience will tell.

Loves of my life

2009-12-24T23:11:00.001-08:00

Dave + Tim + Vegas = Amazing

2009-12-13T19:49:00.000-08:00

Mom: So, who did you drive to Vegas to see again?
Me: Dave Matthews?
Mom: Ohhhh, Dave Matthews.
Dad (in the background): Who did she go and see?
Mom (to Dad): Dave Matthews. That's the guy I told you about that sings the song with that other country singer. I like him. I like his raspy voice.

Yes. Mom hearts Dave.

Oh what a wonderful weeeeeekend...

2009-12-06T17:55:00.000-08:00

What a great weekend!

Thursday night I went to the Kings game with the guy I used to date. Yeah, thought it was a bad idea after I impulsively asked him, but ended up having a really good time with him. No, nothing happened, I was just reminded that his issues have nothing to do with me and more to do with him. I've figured out that he does care about me and enjoy being around me, but there's a big difference between liking me and committing to me. And if he can't commit, he gets me as a friend. Only.

Friday, I spent the day at Disneyland with my family. My nieces are freakin adorable and it reminded me how lucky I am to have such a wonderful family.

Saturday I went out to dinner with some old friends from high school. I hadn't seen most of them in years, but I'm finding out more and more that people love to hang out... I just have to ask them. I also met up with someone who I had met a few months ago, at a Dave Matthews Band concert. He was in town so met up with my friends and me. Totally cool guy. I just felt bad that he left from hanging out with us at 12:45am and had to drive all the way back to San Diego.

Today, I did The Amazing L.A. Race with an old friend. It's L.A.'s version of The Amazing Race (the one on TV). We had no idea what to expect this morning when we showed up, but seriously, it was one of the most fun things I've done in a long time. We literally spent the day traveling around L.A., searching for and solving clues. We made it to the finish in reasonable time, not in last place, and without having to call for help (and get docked time). I will post more when I get the pictures we took throughout the race. Yeah, we took pictures. We didn't care. We had to capture the moments of us on this race.

What good times....

It's not me, it's you

2009-11-26T09:12:00.001-08:00

As I reflect on the last 2.5 months that I allowed myself to share my emotions with someone, I begin to wonder what the deal is with guys. I am by no means bitter about men. Ok, maybe I kinda am, but I'm not bitter in the sense of wanting all guys to die in a fiery pit of hell, I just wonder what the hell their issues are.

I went out to dinner and drinks with two separate lady friends of mine the last two nights. It was good to get the invites, with both ladies sharing much of the same heartache and frustration that I've been experiencing. So really, it was a time of venting and support and, well, downright boy-bashing.

The first friend is one I've known since I was 5 or 6. She and I have grown up playing soccer together. She was on my first team, the Ping Pongs, and I have pictures to prove it. We weren't super close friends growing up, but we were always in each others' lives one way or another. I have always kinda considered her my little sister, because she's a year younger than me and I've always felt that we have that connection. Anyway, she's just getting out of a 13-year relationship. Yeah, that's a freaking long time. The details of the relationship don't matter; what does matter is that she's finally become strong enough (or tired enough) to leave him. As she was telling me all of her woes, I was so proud of her for finally seeing that she would never be happy with him. She actually said, "I can live my life forever with this guy and be comfortable, but never really happy. But I don't want to do that. I want to know what a happy, healthy relationship is like." I wanted to hug her.

The second friend is one that I've known from high school. We were never close. However, thanks to technological advancements such as Facebook, we've become close. It's odd and awesome all at the same time how a website can lead to people bonding over daily status posts or mobile uploads. Anyway, we've been talking a lot lately about the difficulties of dating. She was the one who actually introduced me to the website where I met my last heartbreak. Due to recent status posts, we've been emailing about how we're both struggling with relationships lately so we decided to get dinner and drinks. This girl is amazing. She's been through a ridiculous amount of heartbreak and all while raising three wonderful kids. We shared our stories and discussed the unfairness of relationships. It was a good night.

What I'm having difficulties understanding is why the three of us are having such difficulties finding men. I know we're not the only single ladies in their 30s out there, struggling to find a good man to hold onto; but why is it so difficult?

I understand that a woman can only hold onto a good man when she is ready to love herself. I understand that many women have men who are horrible to them and they just accept it because they don't want to be alone (aka, be like us). I also understand that it takes patience and an unsettling waiver to find the right one. But seriously, what the hell is wrong with these men that those of us who are primed and ready are finding? We are wonderful catches, any man would be lucky to spend the rest of their lives loving us. But they can't.hold.onto.us. Why?

I am becoming more and more convinced that these issues are less about me and most women. I'm beginning to believe that these issues of relationships are more about men. Men are just as battered as women, but the difference between men and women is that women want the fantasy of living happily ever after and will pick themselves up after every heartbreak to try again. Men, on the other hand, don't buy into the fantasy. They get hurt and are content being alone or hanging out with their guy friends drinking beer. But what about when all of their buddies are married and having families? Don't they ultimately want to share their lives with someone? Isn't that what everyone's seeking? Maybe I'm just naive and a ridiculous romantic.

I know I'll never understand the complexities of men. I also know that finding a man is not the answer to my problems. I'm just ready to be in that chapter of my life and for whatever reason, fate is not allowing me to.

Did I love New Moon?

2009-11-22T08:58:00.000-08:00

Aaaaaand that's all I have to say.

Feeling the aftermath

2009-11-21T11:26:00.000-08:00

Yup... here it is. That damn feeling. That feeling of control over your emotions being lost. The feeling of, when is this going to happen for me??? The feeling of hope slipping away. The feeling of do I really have to start over again? The feeling of heartbreak.

When is this going to get easier? I'm 31 years old. When do I have to stop searching? When do I get to experience what my friends get to experience? When do I get to walk down the aisle and spend my life with the man that I love? When do I get to experience the fears and happiness of pregnancy? When do I get to start watching my kids grow?

I swear, I'm trying to be patient. I swear. I've been ready to do this since I was 18. And maybe I wasn't ready for the right reasons until recently, but the point is, I'm ready. I just don't understand why I'm not getting to be there.

I'm burned out. I'm tired of dating. I'm tired of going through the first stages of discovery with the guy you kinda like. I'm tired of starting to feel that comfortability with the guy and kinda getting into that relaxed state of mind. I'm tired of letting my guard down only to get smashed in the face.

I can only do this for so long. I'm seriously wearing thin. Especially when the circumstances are all but perfect and you still have to walk away, because you know it's not going to go any further if you stay and wait.

So again I'll spend the holidays alone. Again I'll have to hang out with my family, who I love, don't get me wrong. Again I'll have to watch my brother and his family that he's creating and wonder when I'll get to be plus one in my invite request. The only thing that keeps me going is that this has to happen at some point.

But when?

Putting my foot down (and seeing the light)

2009-11-16T17:16:00.000-08:00

Here I am again, at this point in a relationship where I'm not getting what I want from it and second guessing myself. Here I am feeling like I'm becoming some crazy chick that is over-analyzing everything. Here I am getting hurt that I didn't get the phone call or the text that I wanted, becoming resentful of a situation that I can change.

I think I've finally figured out that this is the point where something isn't right, whether it be with the relationship in its entirety or with how I feel it's being played out. And guess what, I'm actually going to step in this time around and speak my peace, so that I don't continue to follow down the same path of always being the one to compromise, but never feeling like I'm being compromised for. I'm taking control. Not of anyone else, but of myself and my emotions.

I'm pretty sure I'm going to get rejected; that I won't get what I want from this. But you know what, I think I might be ok with that. I don't want to end the relationship, but I can't keep being in something that isn't meeting my needs.

The fact of the matter is, I want more than what I'm getting. I can't help that. And maybe he can't help being at a point in his life where he can't give me more. But if that's the case, I need to move on. No more timelines, no more waiting around for him to hopefully change his mind. No more waiting around for anyone to figure out if they want to be with me or not. I am who I am, take it or leave it. Be with me or don't.

I make no apologies for who I am or how I feel.

An inspiring story

2009-11-08T13:11:00.000-08:00

I just finished watching the much anticipated (by me) Dear Jack documentary. It's the story of Andrew McMahon, the singer for Jack's Mannequin and Something Corporate, who gets diagnosed with Leukemia in 2005 at the age of 22. From the beginning of his diagnosis, he documents most of his journey on camera and through writing.

Any documentary of this nature would be a powerful one, but I fell in love with this guy because of his story, so this was especially powerful to me. I was introduced to Jack's Mannequin about a year ago through blogs and read that this was an amazing guy with an amazing story. I investigated a little and found a few of his blog entries near the time of his diagnosis and afterward. He is an amazing writer, to say the least. I was told that the first time you listen to a Jack's Mannequin CD, it's good music, but it's not amazing. But as you begin to really listen to it, you begin to actually hear how amazing the music really is. And this music did in fact hit me in that exact way. He is an amazing artist. His songs are beautiful and his passion is felt in the energy of just his CDs. I have been a huge fan since.

As I watched this documentary, I couldn't help but imagine myself and my family in this situation. It was heartbreaking and real and intense. I saw the pain and the love and the fight. I was in tears for most of it. I imagined what my family, my parents in particular, would be like. I could see my mom trying to stay strong, but not lasting long. I could see my dad being the rock, almost removed from it all, trying to make me laugh instead of breaking down and crying in front of me. And for the most part, I imagined myself in this position. This is going to sound weird, but this isn't the first time I've imagined myself in this position. In the position of getting really sick and having to be put through the trials and tribulations of fighting the sickness. How would I react? I would like to think that I would stand strong and remain positive, but how do I really know that? I do know that it would be another time of deep thought and reflection in my life, as I think it would be with anyone.

I have always thought my purpose in this life is more than what it is now. I have always thought that my words and reflections about myself would be my impact on this world. This is why I blog. I had this blog for a few months before I went through my life-changing experience. If you've been reading for long, you'd know that the breakup with the last boyfriend and the therapy that followed it is what I'm speaking of. I don't know exactly yet how I will use these words and these reflections about myself, but I feel like they will be used in some way that will be an inspiration to others. I think that many people live their lives without the reflection that I've had with myself. I am a deep thinker. Many people may not know this, but I often contemplate things on a level far deeper than any other person might. I feel things deeply, I think about things deeply... It's just who I am. There's something about reflecting and contemplating that gives me energy. I think this may be why I love music so much, especially bands like Jack's Mannequin. I love hearing and seeing other people's passion and energy. If I feel their passion, I'm apt to loving their music.

So now, as I sit here thinking and feeling deeply about this DVD, I am in that moment of reflection. I think about how blessed I am to be surrounded and supported by such wonderful family and friends. I think about how blessed I am to have a job that makes such an impact on so many young people. I think about how blessed I am to live a healthy, happy life. I think about what kind of an impact I've had on others. I've really tried my best to be thankful for all that I have and all that I've worked for. I've tried to be thankful for those that have been in my life. I don't think my family and friends know how much I love them and appreciate them, but I'm not sure I know how to put into words what I feel.

I have nothing but respect and admiration for people like Andrew, who have gone through something so life-changing and learned something from it. It gives me hope that people aren't just living this life for the instant gratification or even for what awaits them at the end of this life, depending on their beliefs.

There's a quote from Joseph Campbell that hits what I feel about living life. "People say that what we're all seeking is a meaning for life. I don't think that's what we're seeking. I think what we're seeking is an experience of being alive... so that we actually feel the rapture of being alive."

When I am in my states of deep thought, I feel alive. I feel like I am experiencing life. I could be sitting on my chair, typing an entry for my blog. I could be on a boat, sailing around an island in Greece. Wherever it is, I feel alive. I try to really feel in moments like those. I try to take that time of feeling and reflection and do something with it. Many times, I don't know what that something is. So I just write or blog.

One day it will serve its purpose.

This is some hilarious shit

2009-11-07T16:16:00.000-08:00

Lessons of love

2009-11-04T20:13:00.000-08:00

Today I was reading this article from Honey and Lance (my new favorite blog about dating and such) and I had some revelations. To sum it up, the dude was talking about what he learned about dating 3 chicks at once. I have never dated more than one guy at a time, not because I couldn't *cough*, but because I just choose not to. I can't maintain that much emotion and divide it among 3 dudes. I'm literally incapable and it just isn't fair, to me. You, however, can do whatever the f*ck you want. As long as you're not being whorish. And even then, to you I say, have some respect for yourself, but do what you want.

So anyway, it made me think about what I've learned from the dudes I've dated. I'm not going to sit here and hash out every single guy I've dated, but I will hash out the ones I fell in love with. Those are the ones I learned the most from.

Love number 1:
He taught me that firsts loves are capable of punching you in the face, helping you back up, punching you in the face again, helping you up, punching you in the face again, and then continuing to repeat this cycle for over 8 years (while I let him). He showed me that you can love with no boundaries and without knowing any heartache (until you are metaphorically punched in the face). He taught me what insecurity is. He taught me what passion is. He taught me what complete and utter heartache is, to the point of wanting to die. He taught me what butterflies really feel like. He taught me that promises can be broken, even with a ring on my finger. He taught me that even though I thought I was in control of who I was, I was completely wrong. He taught me that although the love may never die, two people are not supposed to be together no matter how hard they try. He taught me that everything is not happily ever after. He taught me that you can love someone and think they have your best interest at heart, but they don't always... but not out of premeditation or malice. He taught me that you can't change anyone. He taught me not to lend money to a significant other. He taught me that I love tall, white guys with dark hair. He taught me how to man up and walk away. He taught me how unabashedly wonderful yet how sick and depressed love can make me feel. He taught me a lot about myself.

I don't regret the 8+ years I spent loving him. Some people may say that it was a wasted period of time and that I should have just figured it out sooner. But I didn't. And the time that it took me to figure it out was not wasted. I felt things I had never felt before, both good and bad. I learned that I am capable of loving deeply. I will never forget my first love.

Love number 2:
This poor guy came into my life two months after I finally ended things with love number 1. He didn't stand a chance in the beginning, but managed to win me over. We lasted over two years. I look back at this one and realize that I needed him there in my life for a number of reasons. He saved me from myself. He saved me from continuing the cycle of love number 1. He saved me from thinking that love was all about the cycle of passion and butterflies and then sudden breakups and confusion. He allowed me to understand that love has arguments and can still manage to stay alive when the argument is over. He allowed me to understand that love can last... for more than a few months. He showed me (again) that I can't change anyone. He also showed me that I can't change myself to make someone happy. He showed me that love is freakin hard. And that just because you fall in love, it doesn't always mean you have the same ideals. He showed me that life isn't all about finding someone and getting married. And that just because you think you deserve something, you don't always get it... and that's not a bad thing. He showed me that I need affection and passion in a relationship. He showed me that talk is cheap. He showed me how to love traveling. He showed me how to love being outdoors and active again. He showed me that people are freakin stubborn.

I actually learned more about myself with this one. The aftermath of it was the catalyst to me changing who I was as a person, for the better. I learned how to be happy with who I am and to not let someone else dictate how I feel about myself. I learned that I can be alone and be ok. I learned how to enjoy me. I learned how to fall in love with myself. The last year and a half since love number 2 ended has been the most enlightening period of my life. I have challenged myself to so many things that have made me such a strong, independent woman. I actually like who I am and make no excuses to anyone about it. That's a good feeling.

I've heard that each love lost should be a lesson. There should be no regrets about that time you spent with that person, you should only look at it in terms of what you've learned. I feel that. I feel it wholeheartedly.

Ode to Devo

2009-11-03T20:00:00.000-08:00

So I taught division of fractions and mixed numbers today. Again. For my 8th year. Which, is really no big deal. I feel like I get better at teaching it every year. But this is the thing... at about my third year teaching it, I came up with a brilliant idea (and by I, I totally mean one of my 6th graders at the time). Somehow, some way, the students and I were fooling around during that math lesson, many years ago. I know, a shocker. If you know my teaching style, we're always fooling around. But we're learning. All the time. (It's kinda my trick. If we fool around while we learn, they don't know any better.)

Anyway, so we're learning and fooling and such and somehow the song "Whip It" by Devo came up. And somehow, some way, I started singing it. I think it had to do with the fact that when you divide fractions, you have to multiply by the reciprocal. For those of you non-math geeks out there, it means, "flip it." So you flip the second fraction and multiply. So I was saying "flip it," and a student said something about the song "Whip It." Ha ha, funny reference. Well, that turned into the following line: "When division comes along, you must flip it" (sung to the tune of Whip It, by Devo). Brilliant, I know.

Well, as you can imagine, it stuck. The kids dug it completely. And I've used it ever since. That was 5 years ago. And every year, fewer and fewer kids seem to know what the heck I'm talking about when I sing the original Devo song. Which I find utterly and completely disgusting. These kids have no idea what they're missing by only listening to KIIS FM or Power 106. It kills me. Don't get me wrong, I love me some Taylor Swift and some Black Eyed Peas, but I never listen to the radio anymore. Partly because I'm an iPod whore and partly because I can't stand hearing about birthday sex (oh, excuse me, birthday text) and p-p-p-poker face p-p-poker face over and over and over. (On a side note, I find it highly disturbing that my 6th graders come in singing the lyrics to this shit. Parents?)

But I digress...

So today I'm teaching it and I'm all excited to bust out the "Whip It" spin. So I do and the only one giggling is my student teacher. Who's 25. Thanks, I appreciate it, but the ones who matter in this lesson are the ones looking at me like I am an old fart, talking about classical music or something. Some of them act like they get it (I think they felt bad), but I know they really don't because when I get to the step in each sample problem where I say, "When division comes along...." and they sing, "you must flip it" in the obvious incorrect tune, there's something off.

So this is my call to parents or aunts or uncles or older brothers and sisters.... help a sista out. Play some good music for your youngins. They have to know this stuff. It's gotta be like a rite of passage or something. I know when I was growing up, I listened to things like The Beatles and Fleetwood Mac. And I remember that shit. Good [popular] music is a dying breed right now. And I'm feeling it. I'm feeling it hard core when the math references that always used to work are being thrown by the wayside.

Maybe next year I'll play the Devo song before I teach the lesson so as to develop some background knowledge.

All in the name of teaching division of fractions...

L is for Leo

2009-10-28T19:20:00.000-07:00

This was my horoscope today on the dashboard of my computer:

You've been subtly, but powerfully, changed. You're ready to take a chance again and you have just the person in mind for the job. Don't be afraid to make the first move. The astrological agenda at the moment is just perfectly primed to give you all the support you need to make not just a good impression, but a lasting one. Ah. Isn't love grand?

I'm not a huge astrological/horoscope type of gal. I check mine out from time to time, but mostly for shits and giggles. This one made me laugh out loud (an actual LOL) today.

Why? Because it nailed it. Completely nailed it.

Oh, horoscope gods in my computer, you better not be shittin me on that support you're promising. I will come after you if you're wrong. So you better watch your back. I'm just sayin.

I love them, but I hafta be real

2009-10-25T12:42:00.001-07:00

Even though Thursday's win was glorious (especially, being there to witness it), I don't think it's gonna happen for my guys this year. But one can dream, right?

Let's go Angels! (clap, clap, clapclapclap)

Irvine Lake Mud Run

2009-10-25T12:22:00.001-07:00

My first, and definitely not last, mud run. What a good, dirty time. I can't wait til the next one in November!

After we finished. So wet and sticky and dirty.

We're such bad asses. Grrrr...

All the girls... plus T's adorable boys.

I like saying the word "exclusivity" out loud

2009-10-19T18:17:00.001-07:00

I know.... it's been awhile. So let's update.

I'm sorta kinda dating someone. And by "sorta kinda," I mean totally. The thing is, we're not labeled exclusive, but we basically are. And I'm kinda ok with that. I'm not plannin on going out and dating anyone else and I'm pretty sure he's not either. Though you never know. But I'm pretty confident we're exclusive without giving the exclusivity title. Is that weird?

My neighbors suck ass. Since I've posted about the last late-night disturbance, I've had to call after-hours security at least 3 other times. Let's just say, one involved a hammer at 2:30am and another involved a slumber party at 2:30am. Maybe it's the time. It hits 2:30 and their internal "let's f*ck with our neighbor" clock goes off. Or maybe it's coke. Who knows. Oh, and lets not forget the neighbor who, after I spent 10 innings cheering for my Angels, shouted out his slider, "WAHOOOOOOO!!!! (clap clap clap) GODDAMN HALO FAN!" when A-Rod hit a homer to tie it up again. Which was obviously intended for me. Don't be a douche, dude. Can't a chick who lives by herself get some love? Anyone? Apartment living is amazing.

My kids might literally kill me this year. Or 3 of them. And believe me, that's enough to suck my will to live everyday. I can't break them. I have one kid who has been awesomely described as an "intellectual bully." He has difficulties tolerating anyone who's not as smart as him. The others just feed off his negativity. I sometimes have to hold myself back from saying, "Are you f*cking serious??"

I ran/walked a 5K last weekend and my time was superbly better than I had ever imagined. I gave up the long distances after I met the challenge of my halfer last year, but still like to be outside in that atmosphere. Next weekend I have my first mudrun, which will be completely awesome.

I totally think my friend on Survivor Samoa might have a chance at winning. I never watch that show, but found out this guy I used to want to hump super badly was going to be on it. He's doing well, and might actually have a chance. If only he'd stop being clotheslined, by clotheslines, while chasing after runaway chickens.

Thanks to the Angels win today (finally), I get to go to my first post season game on Thursday. Score.

Ok, now I'm just spurting out randomness. I'm boring myself.

Old, like 30

2009-10-02T20:20:00.000-07:00

You know how people say that your 30s are so much different than your 20s? I totally never believed them, whoever "they" are. But I have to say, I've officially been in my 30s for a little bit over a year and by golly, they are right.

See, this is the thing. I've either excused myself or been excused from 3 friendships in the last year. You'd think I should feel bad about that. Possibly take an extra hard look in the mirror. And believe me, I have. That mirror and I have been besties for over a year now. But in the end, I don't care. It does not bother me that three seemingly close friends have been removed from my life. Wait, let me clarify... it does bother me in one way or another. But not enough to feel bad about the friendship being over.

Friend number 1: We had been friends for years. College friends. But now that I look back, I kinda use the term "friend" loosely. We said we were friends, we even might have said we were one of each other's best friends. But who were we kidding. Best friends don't compete with each other. Or accuse the other best friend of talking shit about her to her boyfriend. Really? Because that's how I roll? Not even close. When it comes down to it all, I was going through what I like to call the "detoxifying period" of my life. I had just gotten outta the relationship with the ex, was knee deep in therapy, and was over being treated like shit. I snapped when the last incident happened, and really never looked back.

Friend number 2: We had been friends for months. Literally. I thought this girl was the shit. She was everything I was hoping to be: bold, strong, and had a "f*ck you" attitude. At least on the outside. She was exactly what I needed in a friend at that point in my life. She always told me the truth about everything, whether I wanted to hear it or not. And I respected her for that. To be honest, I really don't know what happened to end this one, but I figure she wasn't the person I thought she was (or made her out in my head to be) if she would just drop me like she did. And boy did she.

Friend number 3: We had been friends for years. Work friends. She was what I needed at that point in my life. I was about to leave the school I worked at because the environment had become toxic. She came in and helped me love the school again. We worked as next door neighbors for about 4 years. We were two peas in a pod. But then things started happening in her life that started to bring out values that I didn't agree with. I struggled with this for a few years. I didn't want to judge her. I wanted to support her with whatever decisions she was making in her life, whether I agreed with them or not. Wasn't that what a "friend" was supposed to do? But over the years, it became difficult to respect her. And that's hard. For so long, I was fighting this battle with myself. I can't judge her, it's her life. She's going to make decisions for herself that I may not agree with, but I still have to love her as my friend. And I did. I still do. But it got to a point where I couldn't be true to who I was and still support her as a friend. We were two completely different people. I had finally decided that I was going to talk to her about how I was feeling. And I felt like I said everything I needed to say without getting immature or catty. She listened, she spoke her feelings about how what I was saying made her feel, and we kind of agreed to move on from it as friends. But who were we kidding? You can't move on from that kinda shit once it's out there. I was already moving on from that friendship, and she was growing more resentful of what I had told her. Eventually, the friendship died. It kinda stung when the ball finally dropped, but I don't feel bad about it. I actually feel like a weight has been lifted.

The thing is, I've been kinda reflecting on these "friendships" in the past week. I was talking to a good friend of mine and she was telling me that she went through this too. She described it as sort of an "inventory" of your life. You come to a point where you realize that there are certain people or things that are worth holding onto. Worth working for. And those friendships weren't worth it to me. Call me self-centered or a bitch... I just know in my heart of hearts that I'm better off without those girls in my life. I just know. And I don't feel bad for any of those friendships ending. They were wonderful additions to my life and have helped me mold a piece of who I am today, but they had their time. And their time ended when it was supposed to. The friends I have in my life right now are the friends that I know are true. I'm over being friends with someone just to have a wingman to hang out with on a Friday night. If I consider you my friend, you are someone who I feel like will be around for a really long time, if not forever. I don't have the time or the patience for bullshit anymore.

I'm freakin in my thirties.

Week 4. Total concerns? Five.

2009-09-26T21:58:00.000-07:00

So I've been back to work for 4 full weeks and I've had meetings with 3 parents, have one scheduled for Monday, and had to call and talk to a parent on Friday. What's the deal? All of the parents are, in some variation, wondering what's going on with their child. Really? Because I'm sure this isn't the first year where your student is struggling. Maybe one of those meetings was a "just getting acquainted with 6th grade expectations," but the rest were for sure not the first time their child has struggled.

Plus, I've already written 2 office referrals. I think I wrote two office referrals total last year. And this year I've written 2 within the same day, in the first 4 weeks.

The honeymoon stage is over.

The good news? I finally have a student teacher. I've always wanted one, not because they can do work for me, but I hope to one day mentor and/or teach future teachers, so I feel like this will let me know if it's something I should really pursue in the far-off future. I'm excited.

You know what drives me crazy?

2009-09-20T09:41:00.000-07:00

People who use their windshield cleaner while driving. On the freeway. Do they understand how annoying it is to be sprayed while driving behind them? Haven't they ever had it done to them? I go especially ape shit when I just had my car washed. Can't they just wait until they're stopped at a light?

People who park their car or turn their car off in a drive-thru. Is it necessary? Is holding your foot on the brake pad super tiring? Is it really that long of a wait? Are you saving any gas at all?

People who have to give exact change in a 15 or fewer lane. Or have to write a check in any lane of a grocery store. Um, hello? First of all, have you not memorized your debit card number yet? Second, your exact change is killing me. I want to stab my eyes out watching you dig in your coin purse for those 3 pennies and 2 dimes. One at a time. The only time I use correct change is when I have time between the total being given to me and when I hand the money over. Like when I have to wait for the asshole in front of me to start his car in a drive-thru.

People who allow their kids to run around screaming in any public place. And then think it's cute and/or funny. No, it's not. It's annoying.

People who don't give me the "thank you" sign when I let them in. Like if they're coming out of a parking lot or gas station or going into one, and you have to stop to give them room to jump in. I honestly don't mind doing that shit at all. But I think it's so rude when they don't at least throw up a hand to say "thanks." That's just a no brainer. And quite frankly, an asshole move if you don't.

I know I have more. But I had to get these off my chest now.

Dear 2-3am party-goers,

2009-09-06T23:14:00.000-07:00

Yeah, hi. I'm one of the hundreds of people who live in the complex that you were at on Friday night. One of the people whose windows were open because we do not have central AC and our bedrooms are hotter than shit at night. Especially in these humidly hot days lately. One of the people who was woken up by your shouting and cackling at 2am. I have a few questions for you...

Are you high? Ok, that was a stupid question and you probably were. Let's move on.

Are you fucking stupid? See all those little windows within your peripheral? Yeah, those windows all have little people inside. We live there. We sleep there. Wait, we try to sleep there. Until stupid idiots like you think it's ok to have conversations and tell jokes in a not-so-inside voice at 2am.

Did you not think we'd complain again after we complained to after hours security once? Going inside for a half hour and then coming back outside doesn't count as staying quiet. Yeah, I was one of the people who called twice to complain about your stupid asses.

I'm not really sure why you think the world revolves around your insane partying hours. Party all you want, just stay the hell out of my apartment complex. It was a Friday night, I get it. But I'm old and I went to bed at 9:30, hoping to sleep off the exhaustion from my first week back at work.

Please don't disrupt my slumber again. And you especially don't want to do that to me on a school night. I will violently hurt your ass. I'm just sayin.

Regards,
Brandi

Happy birthday, Jaylene

2009-09-06T11:36:00.001-07:00

My brother and his wife had their 2nd baby yesterday. Her name is Jaylene Elisa and she is cute and perfect. It's still not real to me. I'm a bit concerned about how my love for my 3-year old niece is going to be split now. Or maybe not split, but doubled. Jaylene's not real yet, though by the pictures below, she obviously is. Maybe because she's just a lump. Can she grow already and recognize me and laugh with me? I'm ready.

I'm such a dork, part 2

2009-08-25T20:23:00.000-07:00

Ok I don't know what it is about me and keys lately, but I have another little story to share.

The school I work at has moved to the school site across the street (in a nutshell, it was available and we needed more space). So there has been a lot of walking back and forth to grab stuff from the old site.

Anyway, today I asked one of the secretaries for the master keys for the old site because I wanted to see if there were some posters I had left in my old room. She gave me the keys and I walked across the street. When I got to the gate, I unlocked it, let myself in, and locked it. I don't like being the only one on campus, so I locked myself in. I went to the room, got what I needed, grabbed my keys, and was on my way back to the gate.

Well, when I looked at my keys, I had only grabbed my keys, not the master keys. Which meant that they were still in the classroom. Which meant that I was locked in. Shit.

So I'm on this empty (creepy) campus, alone, without my phone, and without keys to get out. So what do I do? I jump the fence like a freakin criminal and walk back to the new site, sans master keys.

When I explain my story, they all laugh at me. Of course. I'm an idiot. Thank goodness my principal had another set of master keys for the old site. So I had to take the trek back to the old site (btw, it was about 98* outside, with mad humidity for CA), unlock the gate, go back to the classroom, grab the keys, lock the gate on my way out, and walk back to the new site.

Ugh.

Someone needs to install a key chain piercing on me somewhere.

Sarah Thomas 555-5501

2009-08-21T22:12:00.000-07:00

Totally watched Serendipity for the 5000th time tonight and the eulogy struck me. It's funny, I've heard that part in the movie before, but I've never really listened to it.

Jonathan Trager, prominent television producer for ESPN, died last night from complications of losing his soul mate and his fiancee. He was 35 years old. Soft-spoken and obsessive, Trager never looked the part of a hopeless romantic. But, in the final days of his life, he revealed an unknown side of his psyche. This hidden quasi-Jungian persona surfaced during the Agatha Christie-like pursuit of his long reputed soul mate, a woman whom he only spent a few precious hours with. Sadly, the protracted search ended late Saturday night in complete and utter failure. Yet even in certain defeat, the courageous Trager secretly clung to the belief that life is not merely a series of meaningless accidents or coincidences. Uh-uh. But rather, its a tapestry of events that culminate in an exquisite, sublime plan. Asked about the loss of his dear friend, Dean Kansky, the Pulitzer Prize-winning author and executive editor of the New York Times, described Jonathan as a changed man in the last days of his life. "Things were clearer for him," Kansky noted. Ultimately Jonathan concluded that if we are to live life in harmony with the universe, we must all possess a powerful faith in what the ancients used to call "fatum", what we currently refer to as destiny.

Freakin beautiful.

It's still my birthday week

2009-08-20T08:27:00.000-07:00

So I celebrated my 31st birthday this week.

Birthdays are an odd thing for me. One the one hand, I LOVE my birthday. It's really my favorite day of the year. It's my parents' fault. When I was younger, my birthday was my day. I got to do what I wanted (within reason), I didn't have to do chores, and my mom always made my favorite meal.

However, since I've moved out, birthdays have been a little hard for me to deal with. I still love that it's my day, but who's going to spoil me if my parents aren't around?

What I've realized in general this year is that I've got a giant fear of being alone on my birthday. I plan things weeks in advance so that I don't have to deal with the fact that someone else might not plan something. I planned a dinner this year and was so excited that all my friends and husbands (that live within 25 miles) made it out to celebrate with me.

Here's to being 31! I've been told by numerous people that this is my year. Oh, and that 31 = dirty fun. Well... ok, if you say so...

I'm such a dork

2009-08-09T12:35:00.000-07:00

Today I was doing my usual weekend walk/run (mostly walk, downhill only run) of a hilly trail nearby. When I go, I drive there, park in a church parking lot nearby, and walk to the trail. It gives me one extra hill to walk, which I dig. The only things I take with me are my iPod (which is in an arm holder thingy) and my car key. I literally take it off my keyring and stick it in my arm holder thingy.

So I do the first hill, start to go down the next hill, and begin my first run. All of a sudden, I feel a click in my arm holder thingy, something bounces off my calf and hits the sidewalk. I stop immediately, turn around, and.... nothing. Nothing is on the very wide sidewalk behind me. I look in my arm holder thingy and my key is gone. My car key. The key to my car that holds my purse, my phone, and my apartment key. I immediately squat down and look in the nearby planters. At the same time, cars are passing by on a busy street next to me. I can only imagine what they were thinking. The bushes aren't grown together, but there are very low plants there. I'm on my hands and knees for about 10 minutes, combing through about 3-5 yards of planters. Nothing. Now, mind you, I drive a Honda and the key is not just a regular, metal key. At the top of the key is a giant black cover, where my automatic door lock buttons are. It's not a small thing I'm searching for.

So now I'm screwed. I can't find my key, I have no phone, I have no money. I do have my iPod, though (whew!). The only thing I can think to do is to walk back to my apartment, ask to use their phone, and call my parents, who are the only ones that have an extra car key. So I decide to start walking.

This walk back is like 2 miles. The entire way I'm trying to think of any other way that I can solve this problem besides calling my parents to drive the 25 minute drive out to give me my key. Nothing. I'm totally beating myself up the whole walk back.

I finally get back to the complex, ask to use the phone, and my mom says she'll leave in 10 minutes. I feel horrible, but she's totally ok with it and doesn't make me feel bad at all. I was partly hoping my dad would answer because he's so much more mellow than my mom, but she was cool about it.

So here I am, finally back from what should have only been an hour walk, two and a half hours later. What a mess.

Now I have to call to see how much another key is. And I don't think they're cheap. Great.

My new favorite commercial

2009-08-03T21:54:00.001-07:00

Coincidence? I think not.

2009-08-02T12:52:00.000-07:00

Fourteen years ago today, my brother's best friend, who was 17 at the time, passed away after being in a bad car accident. He was the drunk passenger of a car whose driver was also drunk. My brother's best friend, Jon, wasn't wearing a seat belt and suffered extensive head trauma, as they were driving an open T-top Camaro. They ran the red light into a truck who was making a left turn in front of them.

I remember getting the phone call from Jon's mom the next morning.
Me: Hello?
Sheree: Hi Brandi. Is Bryan ok?
Me: Um, yeah, I think so. Why?
Sheree: Is your mom there?
Me: Yeah, hold on.

Sheree asked my mom the same thing. My mom went to my brother's room. He wasn't there, as expected. He was at work.
My mom: Yeah, he's at work. What's wrong?
Talking on the other end.
My mom: Oh gosh. Is Jon ok?
More talking on the other end.
My mom: Well, I know he came in last night and he had to work early this morning.

After they hung up, I found out that Jon had been in a car accident and Sheree was wondering if my brother was ok because my brother was supposed to be in that car.

The night before, my brother and Jon went out to a bowling alley. They met up with another guy that Jon worked with. This other guy, *Sean, was older than the two of them and was spending a lot of time with Jon recently. Sean was buying the beer, and the pitchers kept coming in.

At the end of the night, as they were leaving, Jon went to get into Sean's car and told my brother to come along. My brother knew he had to work in the morning and decided to take his own car and go home. He told Jon to come with him, and (I will remember my brother telling this part until the day I die) Jon started to take a step toward him and then decided against it and told my brother he'd see him later.

It was the last time my brother saw Jon as the Jon that we all knew and loved. They sped out of the parking lot so quickly that my brother had no chance to catch up. (Thank goodness.)

After the phone call, we called my brother at work. At this point, the word was that Sean was doing worse than Jon. Jon was supposed to make it and they weren't so sure about Sean. My brother came home immediately and we all went to the hospital.

Those hospital days were a blur. I don't even remember how many there were exactly, but I do know it was somewhere around 5 days that Jon was in a coma. In this time, I formed special bonds with a couple of girls that knew Jon. What I do remember is forcing myself to go in and see him. I will never forget what he looked like. He was lying there, face swollen beyond recognition, with tubes coming out of his head and mouth, and wires everywhere. It was the first time I had seen someone look like that. It wasn't the good looking and full-of-life Jon that I knew for the last year or so.

It was evident that Jon wasn't doing as well as we had first thought. I remember that his dad kept promising him a new Acura if he would just come out of this. They put pictures of it in his hospital room. Every time I see an Acura like that even today, I think of Jon.

After a few days in a coma, we were all pulled into a small room. Looking back, it's odd to me that his parents wanted us all in during this moment. Sitting there with his mom and dad, my mom and brother, and a few friends that had been there everyday, the doctors told us that the swelling in Jon's brain wasn't going down and that there was no brain activity. This meant that he'd be a vegetable if he were to be kept alive. I couldn't believe it. We all couldn't believe it. The doctors told Jon's parents that they should consider donating his organs. That was August 2, 1995.

Jon's funeral was HUGE. The largest I have ever been to (then and to this day). He was friends with so many people, it was unbelievable. The line of cars leading to the grave site was longer than the eye could see. You would have thought that the way in which he died would have scared some of those kids out of living that lifestyle, but it didn't. Many of them went on to get multiple DUIs. Sad.

The days and months after Jon's death were a blur of sadness, remembrance, and seeing my brother break down. As I type this and remember what he went through, I get teary. My brother blamed himself for Jon's death. If only he could have forced Jon into his car. If only he would have made Jon leave earlier. If only. You don't want to see any of your family members go through what he went through, let alone your older brother. He was the one who was there to protect me, his baby sister, and I had no idea how to make him feel better. I remember night after night of him crying and yelling and my mom in his room all hours of the night, trying to calm him down. I didn't know how to deal with it. I didn't know what to say to him. I'm thankful that my mom was strong enough to pull him out of it eventually, though not without stories that I would later hear about my brother considering things I don't even want to think of. It was a horrible time.

On top of all of this, there was a court case building against Sean. My brother chose to speak about Jon in front of the court and I remember being so nervous for him. He cried, which always tears me apart, and he spoke about the events that led up to the accident. He also spoke about his relationship to Jon. In the end, Sean was charged with a DUI (his second, if I recall correctly) and Involuntary Manslaughter. He got 3 years in jail, which turned out to only be a year and a half for good behavior. If I remember correctly, the effect of Jon's death on Sean was no where near the effect it had on my brother.

We tried to remember Jon as best we could for as long as we could. There was a tree planted at the park near his house in his honor. But, as things happen this way, we eventually moved on with our lives.

His mom never really got over it. I mean, who could blame any parent for not being able to get over having to bury their child. But I don't think she ever had the strength to move on. We heard recently that she was diagnosed with cancer (I think lung cancer, as she was an avid smoker) and the doctors were only giving her 6 months to live. That was last month. She passed today. August 2, 2009. Fourteen years (to the day) after her Jon passed.

I got the news a couple of hours ago. A friend of mine who shared those hospital days with me texted me and told me. I broke the news to my brother, who had hoped that she'd last a bit longer so he could go and say his goodbyes.

For someone who doesn't believe in religion, I believe that her passing on this day was not coincidental. She got to be with her son again, 14 years after he left her. It brings chills to my body and makes me feel peace for her all at the same time.

Rest in peace, Sheree. I hope that seeing Jon takes away the pain you had to go through for the last 14 years.

*name changed for obvious reasons.

Wednesday morning surprise

2009-07-29T09:08:00.000-07:00

Ugh. I saw peen on OKCupid today. Now I'm only on two dating sites.

Can someone throw me a freakin bone??

2009-07-28T20:01:00.001-07:00

I probably shouldn't even blog about this, but I'm going to because it explains what I've been forced to deal with lately.

I met a dude on a dating site. Super cool guy. Went through the motions with eHarmony, matched in each others' values, even exchanged a few emails, etc., etc., etc. He calls me and we're having a decent conversation. We get on the subject of traveling and I tell him about my fabulous trip from Rome to Athens last summer and how I got to see the Parthenon, which I've wanted to see for around 10 years. I joked about how I thought I was going to shed actual tears when I saw it for the first time.

When he asked me what and where the Parthenon was, I was a bit worried. I kindly explained that it was in Greece and probably one of the most famous, most historical buildings there. He then explained that he had gone to Greece, but couldn't remember what he saw. I figured it was a trip he took when he was younger. Nope, he said he went 2 years ago. Two years ago???? Ummmmm..... And he totally wasn't trying to be funny.

So he tells me that he's going to email me some pictures to prove he was there and I jokingly said I'd probably have to tell him what he was standing in front of.

I get the email from him today and I open the attachment that is the picture, thinking it'd be some obscure ruin somewhere on the side of the road. (If you've never been to Greece, there are in fact obscure ruins everywhere. They just build around them.) When it finally opens, it's a freakin picture of him standing.in.front.of.the.PARTHENON.

He honestly had no idea. Really. None. The thing is, there are signs everywhere. He had to walk up a giant hill to get there. THE OLYMPICS WERE IN ATHENS JUST 5 YEARS AGO!!! How does this guy, a seemingly bright 31-year old, not know what the Parthenon is???? I mean, I get it. History is kind of a passion of mine, especially ancient civilizations. But I learned about the Parthenon when I was in college. It's a pretty recognizable building. Is it not?? And even if it's not, isn't it something you should know if you've been there, standing in front of it??

Help me out here, this is not what is left out there for me, is it?? Please tell me it gets better than this.

Since I had already told the guy I'd meet him for drinks, I'm following through on that and will meet him later this week. But I'm worried. I've already practiced the "I've got plans this weekend," just in case. What plans? Family. Friends. Babysitting my niece. I'm a horrible liar, I have to have this stuff prepared so that I'm not caught off guard, stumbling for an excuse.

Ugh. Please tell me it gets better. Please.

I'm so doing this, minus the Chris Brown song

2009-07-26T09:41:00.000-07:00

Online Dating 101

2009-07-25T13:33:00.000-07:00

It's funny that 7 months ago, I was mostly against internet dating sites. I thought (and still kinda do) that it was interfering with fate. I felt it was trying too hard to find someone and that there was a level of desperation going into it.

But I tried it anyway. I was convinced that getting myself out there was being proactive, rather than just waiting for social opportunities in my life. The first place I tried was Match.com. I did a 3 month trial, found a couple of guys, but nothing went further than the phone, for whatever reasons. I didn't renew my subscription there. Toward the end of my Match subscription, a friend told me about PlentyofFish.com, which is free. I've met a number of guys there, even went out with one, bit no luck there. I'm still on that site.

As if being sent a sign, I kept seeing eHarmony commercials, so I joined. I have to admit, eHarmony seems the most serious. You don't go out and find matches, they match you with people who they think you are compatible with, based on a pretty long and extensive survey you take when you sign up. Then, once you are matched, you have to go through a guided process of questions and answers before you can actually talk to them. Of course you can opt out of the guided process, but to me, it tells you a lot about if you really share the same values. I've only been on eHarmony for about a week.

Last week, I was told about OkCupid.com, which is another free site. This one is entertaining because you can take lame, but fun, Facebook-like quizzes. I still don't understand what a Quiver is and my profile on this one is probably the most smartass of all. I'm a trained professional at making profiles now.

So, needless to say, I've been involved in online "dating" for about 7 months. Since the beginning, I haven't been super into it. I don't pursue guys (though I have started to on eHarmony) and I'm pretty picky about the ones I do email back. I could care less if I get emails or winks or quivers. But at the same time, it has been quite a confidence booster to see the emails coming in periodically.

Online dating isn't any easier. The guys still don't know what they want. They still lie about things and don't follow through on things they say they are going to do. But it's becoming easier to care less about it. A friend of mine had a conversation with me the other day about how she met her husband on a dating site. She told me about how the process of being on dating sites wasn't easy, but it was kinda fun. She said she got good at dating and meeting for coffee or a drink for the first time. She got good at not accepting last minute dates. She went out with so many guys at a time and kept so busy that she wasn't really ever "waiting" for a call or a lame ass text. She learned that the right guy and good guy would never make her wonder if he wanted to hang out or get to know her.

So this is the thing. I've never really just dated. I've always met someone, and dated only them until it evolved into a relationship or died. I figure this is my time to learn this stuff. I don't want to wait around for a guy to text or call or ask me out. And I don't anymore. Which is weird. I'm not used to just being like, "Meh, whatever. If he calls, he calls." That so wasn't me. But it's becoming me now.

So with that, I say bring it. Let's do this shit.

I heart my momma

2009-07-22T16:58:00.000-07:00

Last week I got a phone call from my mom. She wanted to know if I wanted to buy the summer package for Disneyland with her. We'd get a Park Hopper for any 3 days in the summer for $99. If you've been to Disneyland, you know this is a freakin amazing price for THREE Park Hoppers (especially a summer price). So yeah, she and I bought the packages. When she said it, I thought she wanted to do it so we could take my niece when we went. But it amazed me when she said she just wanted it to be her and I.

So yesterday, my mom and I did our first of three trips to Disneyland. It was fun. We spent the morning/afternoon at California Adventure (she hasn't been yet). I will admit, it was freakin HOT waiting in some of those lines, but hanging out with my mom all day was fun. I took her on the Soaring Over California ride (which she loved) and she wanted to wait in a 4o-minute line for the Toy Story ride. I wasn't super excited to wait in that line (during the hottest part of the day), but I did it. The ride was hilarious. You and your partner compete in a number of shooting competitions (carnival-style). I was kicking her butt after each one, but then at the end she won.

We shared lunch, sat on a bench in front of the Matterhorn to rest for over an hour, and found a pretty good spot for the fireworks show about an hour and a half before the show started. My mom and I are pretty close anyway, but I found that yesterday she and got to talk about a lot of things that we don't usually talk about.

My mom takes care of her mom every weekend. My grandma was prescribed medicine for dementia/psychitsophrenia/bipolar about 2 years ago. It's been a difficult 2 years for my my mom, seeing my grandma deteriorate. She and my dad have been taking care of my grandma on weekends and my aunt stays at my grandma's house on weekdays. My grandma can't be alone because she won't eat and she won't take her meds. If she doesn't take her meds, she becomes very paranoid that someone's trying to break in or that someone has broken in. It's very sad.

Yesterday I got to hear my mom talk about what an amazing help my dad has been in this situation. It's funny, because growing up, I knew my parents loved each other, but never heard them say it. It actually kinda bothers me that my family is not a family that says "I love you" all the time. But yesterday, hearing my mom talk about the kinds of things my dad was doing to help out with my grandma, it became evident to me how much my dad loves my mom (and how much she loves him) and what a wonderful man he is to her. It almost made me cry, to be honest. She even told me that she hoped I find a guy like my dad, at one point.

Needless to say, I can't wait for us to hang out again. I love that I have such an amazing relationship with my momma.

The Shred: Day Negative 1

2009-07-20T16:11:00.001-07:00

So I like to work out. Well, I like to work out when I am actually doing the workout, but getting me there is a pain in the ass. And sometimes I get super bored with doing the same thing over and over and over... so I'm always looking for new ways to stay/get in shape.

I used to play soccer, but the drive to the field where the league played was just too much. I trained for and ran a halfer. Once I met that challenge, I went back to hating running (and what is was doing to my feet, ugh). I tried crossfit and loved it, but where I was doing it was a pain to get to at 5:00 now that I'm on summer vacation. I like to hike and was doing that for a bit, but then I got sick and I never went back to it. I know... excuses, excuses.

So one of my friends (a friend of a friend that has become a friend since my last trip to Texas) posted something on Facebook (woot woot!) about wanting to start the Jillian Michaels' 30-Day Shred on Tuesday (tomorrow). One person responding turned into her starting a group on Facebook, now with about 30 members from all over. All of us are starting The Shred tomorrow and are going to keep each other motivated through the group on Facebook. I'm so ridiculously excited. It's a new activity and I actually have others to keep me motivated. And from what I understand, that shit works!!

Interested in joining us? Let me know. You can start at any time, even if it's not when we start tomorrow.

Lonely, party of one

2009-07-09T22:00:00.001-07:00

I'm kinda lonely lately. I mean, I have friends that I hang out with and I know I have a ton of people who care about me. But I'm just lonely. I wonder how long before I finally get to share my life with someone. I'm ready. I'm ready to settle down and do this. I feel like my baggage has been dealt with and I'm ready to be in love again. For real. But it's not happening.

My dad asked me the other day if I liked living by myself. And I do. Completely. I'm not depressed and holed up inside (besides the whole being sick for 2 weeks episode), I just want to move on to the next chapter in my life. I want to stop going to family functions alone. I want to have a workout partner. I want to have a partner, in general. And sometimes I wonder if it'll ever happen.

This will probably sound ridiculous and totally lame, but for some reason, I can't imagine myself on my wedding day. I mean, I could imagine myself graduating from college. I could imagine myself in a classroom in front of kids. I could imagine myself crossing the finish line when I did my halfer last year. But I can't imagine myself getting married. Is that a sign?? Does that mean it's not going to happen? That honestly scares the shit outta me.

So I wait. Like I always do. I be patient and have faith that the reason I'm having to wait so long is because what I'll finally end up with will be more than I could have ever hoped for. My faith is just wearing thin lately...

My MJ memorial

2009-07-08T22:36:00.001-07:00

So yesterday I was fortunate enough to be able to go to the MJ Memorial at the Staples Center. A friend of mine "won" tickets and invited me to go.

I don't think I realized the magnitude of this event until I was actually there. I was sitting in a (very large) room with so many influential people. I think it hit me when Stevie Wonder was helped on stage. WTF? Stevie Wonder? I knew he'd be there, but when it all went down, I was overwhelmed.

And this is the thing. Say what you want about Michael Jackson, the man was a freakin genius. And he deserved to have his life celebrated yesterday. I don't know one person my age who wasn't trying to do the moonwalk at some point in their lives. I don't know one person who didn't secretly (or not-so-secretly) want the red leather jacket or the sequined white glove. I don't know one person who doesn't remember the first time they saw the Thriller video. I can tell you where I was: My mom got ahold of the video (now that I think about it, it was kinda odd that she got it) and she invited all the neighborhood kids in to watch it. I don't know what it is about that video and song, but it scares the shit outta me. To this day, I can't listen to it without getting creeped out. But I would pay a pretty penny to get my hands on the documentary of that video.

I will admit, when Michael was accused of all the child molestation stuff back in the day, I thought the man was guilty. Freak, child molester, pervert... all those names rolled off my tongue. But this is the thing... I don't know if I believe it anymore. I think the man had an f-ed up childhood/life. He didn't get to ever be a child. He was pushed into the spotlight at 5-years old and his stardom increased from there. So the whole Neverland makes sense. He didn't ever want to grow up and always wanted to be the kid he never got to be. I think that, yes, he did some questionable things with some of those kids. Things that we might deem as completely inappropriate. But do I think he molested anyone? No. I honestly don't. Not after what I saw yesterday.

I think Brooke Shields' eulogy was the one that hit home the most for me. She talked about how fun and full of love he was. She described him as non-jaded. Somehow, I believe that. I believe that he loved to perform and felt like that was what he was put on this Earth to do. He was at home on stage. He loved to make people happy. But off-stage, his life was in such a bubble, he was considered a freak. I considered him a freak, I'll admit. But everyone that knew him well described him as someone with a huge heart. I will believe that that was who he was. Not the sideshow that the media made him out to be.

And one more thing... his kids. Seriously, what beautiful and awesome kids he has. For the first time, we got to see them without masks, without umbrellas, without the boundaries that were put on them. This man wasn't just an entertainer for us. He was a father. And a seemingly great one at that.

Yesterday was a time for me to lay to rest the negativity that I've believed for the past few years. I realized that he was an icon whose music shaped my childhood. I realized that he was a wonderful person and father, who just wanted to make others happy.

What a wonderful experience that I got to be a part of. The magnitude of it is just beginning to set in.

Because I can

2009-07-01T22:41:00.001-07:00

Yeah, I changed it. I get bored easily. And I like the new, bright colors. They're purdy.

Ear in-fect-you-tions

2009-06-30T21:13:00.000-07:00

What.the.shit.

Why the hell do I get sick on every damn trip I go on? Ok, I take that back. No... now that I'm thinking about it, I don't. Let's review.

NYC February, 2008 - got sick and had an ear infection when I got home.
Texas June, 2008 - I remember getting sick the week before I left and going to the doctor to get meds to save myself. I was sick from heart-break. That totally counts.
Rome and Greece August, 2008 - I lied, I didn't get sick on this one. But I did start my lady-time unexpectedly because I stopped taking my pill with the f-ed up time difference. So we'll just count this as being sick.
NYC February, 2009 - got food f-ing poisoning the night before I left and literally threw up for the final time as my ride came to pick me up. Damn it, just call me a rock star on this one for sucking it up and kicking ass.
Paris and London March, 2009 - hungover as all hell (admittedly my own fault) on the 24-hour travel-day-from-hell. Threw up in Heathrow airport (check that one off my list), and had TWO ear infections by the time I got home. Asshole ears.
Texas June, 2009 - get sick the day after I get there. My BFF gets to take me to Urgent Care (called CareNow in Tejas) where I get meds. Oh, and I had to pay out-of-pocket because my insurance is stupid and can't get their shit straight. Awesome. Finally getting well and when I fly home, I get another bastard ear infection and pretty much die for the FIVE DAYS following my return. As a matter of fact, I'm still dying. On Sunday, I had to literally get into the bathtub to get a fever of 102.9 down. What am I, a toddler? Went to 3 different doctors and finally got my medication changed because, guess what, the one I got in Texas stopped working.

So yeah. This might be a sign. But I don't really care. I might lose my hearing, I might get pneumonia one day... but traveling is sooo worth it.

Classy ladies

2009-06-18T23:27:00.001-07:00

Someone please tell me why The Real Housewives of New Jersey is the greatest show that has ever aired on Bravo. No? Ok I will.

1. All those stereotypes of NJ women? Yeah, they're all true. Except these women married rich NJ douchebags and live in giant homes.

2. Danielle, the crazy bitch (let's face it, they're all crazy...she's just the craziest) has the most amazing face in the history of plastic surgery-gone-too-far. Her eyebrows, her eyelids, her cheekbones, her mouth... and that's just her face.

3. Danielle, the crazy bitch, is dating a guy who is 26 (she's 46), but acts like he's 17. Dude needs to wipe that smirk off his face. Ugh.

4. Jacqueline, the crazy sister-in-law, is f*cked. She married into the mafia - er, family - and is trying to stay loyal to the family's mortal enemy.

5. The season finale. Please tell me that I was not the only one who enjoyed that delicacy. And can someone get me "the book?"

6. The extra footage of the season finale. The fact that they replayed (and replayed and replayed and....) the "table throwing incident," was genius. We got to see that shit from 4 different angles.

My favorite lines from the last 2 episodes:
"If you haven't seen a table thrown, you're obviously not from New Jersey." -I forget which hot New Jersey Mafia son
"I am a classy lady." -Teresa, the chick who threw a table.
"Ha, I love you (kiss)." -Teresa, to her husband, 30 seconds after she threw the table.

Tuesday will be the best day of my life. Why? Real Housewives of New Jersey Reunion Show. I count the days....

Change is ahead

2009-06-14T09:31:00.001-07:00

Well, it's over. The work environment I knew and loved for so long is done. Yesterday was the final goodbye (though I refused to say goodbye to most of them). I'm sad. Really sad. I just feel alone.

To catch you up to speed, 15 of the awesome girls (and 2 guys) that I worked with got laid off in these horrible economic times. Our district laid off 171 teachers and closed 3 schools. It's a war zone out where I work. They laid off people all the way back to hire-dates of 2000. Why didn't I get laid off, you ask? Because I'm freakin lucky. Well, that and because I have a supplementary to teach Language Arts up to 9th grade. So now I'm being moved to a Jr. high next year.

And I'm ok with that, really. My belief is that everything happens for a reason and there HAS to be some awesome reason why I am going there, to teach my least favorite subject. Maybe it's the change I need. I've been teaching 6th grade for 7 years and although my teaching has grown, it is becoming a bit boring. Don't get me wrong, I love the age and I love the curriculum, but it's becoming less exciting. So change HAS to happen.

The last week of school was ridiculously difficult. The kids were sad, the teachers were sad, the parents were sad. Tears were flowing everywhere. People were moving shit out of there classrooms (including me) and saying goodbyes. It just sucked. In this time of closure, people have been saying things to me that I didn't expect. I had a parent that has been giving me shit ALL year, tell me how much she appreciates all that I've done for her daughter (through mascara tears). I've had my principal pull me into her office to say goodbye (oh yeah, BOTH principals are retiring... one that has been my ONLY boss since I've started teaching), telling me how she's loved watching me grow into the amazing teacher that I am and how I am a teacher-leader. Wow. Parents upon parents have come in (old, present, and possibly future) telling me that they don't want to see me go and they might pull their kids from the school because they wanted me as their teacher for next year. Most of my 6th grade parents are hoping that the Jr. high I get placed in will be the one that their child goes to. Our librarian came up to me yesterday and told me how much she loved when my kids came in, because they were always so well-behaved and she liked to watch the relationship that I had with them. Um, the librarian? If you knew this lady, you'd be like, "Wow." For her to say that, meant a lot.

So last night I left the last end-of-the-year (end-of-the-awesomeness-that-was-our-school) party super sad and lonely. It's done. Even if some of those girls get called back (which we're hopeful for), not all of them will. It's sad. And our administration is going to be totally different next year. New principal and assistant principal.

The good news is, if people get called back, I have been told I'd be one of the first to return to my original position. (So the district says.) At this point though, I figure where ever I'm supposed to be, I'll be. Can't change what was already destined for me.

So this summer will be a waiting game. Waiting to hear where I'll end up. Waiting to hear if the district does a second round of pink slips (which I could be a part of). Waiting to hear if anyone else gets called back.

In the meantime, I'm leaving for Texas on Friday to visit the BFF. It'll be an awesome getaway to clear my head after all this sadness.

Another revelation in my life

2009-06-03T18:19:00.000-07:00

It's amazing to me how true the statement "Everything happens for a reason" is. You don't realize it at the time, or even at all, but the sequence of events that shape one's life happen for very exact, particular reasons.

I believe that. I believe it now, more than ever.

Bummed

2009-04-27T16:40:00.001-07:00

I'm pretty bummed that today, I lost someone who I thought was my friend. Thought our friendship was a strong one. I considered her one of my best friends, actually.

Apparently I was wrong.

And the worst part? I never really got the respect to get a heart-to-heart about it. I had to force the reason out of her through text. And I still don't understand it completely.

I really can't imagine what I could have done to her that could have been THAT bad. And if I did, I wish she would have talked to me about it.

But I guess that's how it goes.

I just have to stand by the belief that everything happens for a reason.

Hiding shit, travels, and being 30

2009-04-14T16:31:00.000-07:00

I seriously suck at posting these days. I don't know what to write about. I used to write about my issues with the ex, but I feel like I'm pretty much past it all. I could write about my issues with dating now, but I'm just not completely comfortable with it. I honestly have no idea who reads this, so if I were to completely say what I wanted, I might mow some egos down. And I'm not into that. So if I can't be raw and feel comfortable doing so, I don't want to write about it.

As an update, went to Paris and London with some of my lady friends. Lady friends whom I never would have met, had my life not gone down the path it has in the last year. So I'm thankful for that and to have them in my life. We had a blast (or at least I did). I finally feel like I'm that girl that has been places. I always wanted to be that girl, but now I am. Score. Friends and family are asking where my next trip will be. I have no idea. But the fact that the possibilities are always there makes life interesting.

I'm going through the, "I want to share my life with someone" phase. What's different about it this time around is that I'm totally ok with being alone (it doesn't bum me out), but I just don't want to be here for the rest of my life. And everyone tells me, "Oh Brandi, you won't." For the first time in my life, I don't know what is going to happen in that area of my life. When I was 18, I knew I'd go to college, find the love of my life, get married, have 2.5 kids, and a house with a white picket fence by the time I was 25. Yeah. I know.

Now I'm 30, and I don't regret anything that has happened in my life. In fact, I'm glad I'm not living the dream that I thought I wanted. But what's funny is that I never planned for life after 30. It was like, I was going to accomplish all of that stuff, and then I'd be happy. All of it would bring me happiness.

So these plans haven't happened and I've made no other plans. I feel like I'm just waiting.

Is that bad? Should I have plans? Part of me says yes, because I want to always strive for something. But then part of me says no, because my plans were unrealistic and fairytale-ish. And lame. And if I've learned anything in my 20s, it's that NOTHING goes exactly as planned. So I do things when they come about or when I want to do them. But I'm in limbo. And I hate being in limbo.

So, pretty much, my life is boring right now. No emotional issues to wane about. No need to talk about dating. Nothing going on.

So, I apologize for the lack of posting. It may be awhile before anything else comes up.

Dear Nail Salon Lady Who Waxed Me Today,

2009-03-17T19:56:00.000-07:00

Let me count the ways I love you....

1) You manicure my eyebrows like no other. They are so perfectly sculpted after I leave your wannabe spa room.
2) You ask me if I want something to drink. At least, I think that's what you asked me. After saying, "I'm sorry?" once, I can only assume that is what you said. You left it alone after I said, "No thanks."
3) You did not ask me if I wanted my upper lip waxed this time. Sure, I had already asked you to do it, but at least I know you weren't talking trash in your head about the apparent massive mustache you think I have. You ripped that shit off today.
4) You bring tears to my eyes. Literally. I've gotten used to your "sensitivity" when it comes to my eyebrows, but the upper lip is a new and delightful experience for me. Holy shit.
5) You spent a good portion of my sitting trying to convince me to get a pedicure. At least, I think. I have to respect the saleswoman in you.
6) You took my threading virginity away from me today. Threading is a new and fantastic experience. I think you felt bad for me because my eyes were crazy watering after the upper lip situation.

You are an amazing artist and I am counting the days until we can share in this moment again. Thank you for giving me my $13 (plus tip) worth.

Love,
Brandi

Dear Spray & Wash MAX with Resolve Power,

2009-03-15T18:58:00.000-07:00

I had my doubts, but you do, in fact, work. You took away the pink champagne stain that landed on my shirt before we left the house last night. I wanted to change the shirt where said stain landed, but was told that "no one could see it." I still think the people who offered the aforementioned advice were in a hurry and didn't want me to change. Because you could TOTALLY see the stain. The good news is, I forgot about the stain after 2 glasses of wine, a good portion of champagne, 2 Pear Ciders, and a shot of tequila.

But I digress.

Your instructions told me to spray, wait NO MORE than 15 minutes, and then wash. Huh, interesting concept. So I sprayed, waited a tad longer than 15 minutes, came back and the stain was gone! I washed immediately after. And by "wash," I mean, rinsed in the sink.

So thank you, amazing little bottle of stain remover. You saved me from throwing out a very cute, brand new shirt.

Love,
Brandi (your new bestie)

Dear Luck,

2009-03-14T09:08:00.000-07:00

Wow. I'm not really sure how you managed to appear this week, but you were sure there for me. Again.

On Wednesday, 16 of the wonderful ladies (and 2 men) that I work with were served with their pink slips telling them that they may not have a job next year. I knew I was obviously in that group of 18 of our 27 certificated staff, because the word was, anyone that got hired after 2000 was doomed. I was hired in 2002. I had already mentally and emotionally prepared myself for the notification. I had my breakdown with my mom and realized that I couldn't change whatever was going to happen in the end. If I lost my job, I would move back home or to my brother's and get a job or two where I could. I was at peace with it.

On Wednesday, my staff got their pink slips. I wasn't at work, because my family went to Disneyland for my niece's 3rd birthday. It wasn't purposely planned, I had requested the personal day at least a month beforehand. I wasn't trying to avoid. I was ready.

On Thursday, I came into work and my Assistant Principal whisked me into her office and closed the door as soon as I walked in. She proceeded to tell me that I was I not receiving a pink slip this year because I have a supplementary authorization to teach Language Arts to Jr. highers and Freshmen.

I'm sorry... what?

Let's travel back 8 years ago....

I was sitting in my academic counselor's office making sure all my classes were on track to get my Bachelor's and to get into the Credential Program. She proceeds to tell me that because I took an extra semester of classes to waive the MSAT (big teacher test back then, now the CSET), I had earned a supplementary authorization in Language Arts.

I think I actually laughed and said, "Awesome." I didn't try for this. I honestly wanted to stay as far away from the MSAT as I possibly could. I am a horrible test taker. I psyche myself out for whatever reason. I can usually pass them, but with the girls I knew at that time telling me that the test was ridiculously hard, I had decided that the waiver would be the best option for me. It was only one more semester (Spring) and I wasn't going to walk until May anyway.

Fast forward 8 years and that bastard is what f-ing saved my ass from losing my job. Holy shit. Of course this means that I may have to teach Language Arts (my least favorite - and worst- subject to teach) to 7th, 8th, or 9th graders (ugh).... but at this point, a teaching job is a teaching job.

On a side, and totally unrelated, note... about 4 years ago, the state was recalling those who waived the MSAT to come back and take the CSET (the newer version of the MSAT) because they weren't "counting" the waiver as something equivalent to the test. They told everyone who got the waiver after June 2001 that their waiver didn't count.

I got my waiver in May 2001.

When will you run out, my dear friend, Luck????

Thank you for being there when I need(ed) you,
Brandi (totally employed for at least another year)

*I stated in the earlier post that our district was in the hole 3 billion. I totally meant 44 million. Meh, pocket change at this point. Just wanted to clarify.

Dear Economy,

2009-03-07T07:38:00.000-08:00

Ok, I feel you. I really do. For awhile, I thought, wow, this economy sucks and is kicking the shit out of people around me right and left. But I keep getting avoided.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday I found out that because of you and my district's 3 BILLION dollar debt, I might get laid off. I've been teaching for 7 years. Seven. I realize that's not a lot in comparison to others who have lost their 20-year job because their company folded, but in teaching years, it really is a lot.

After my breakdown (and talking to my mom), I sat up and realized you're an asshole and there's nothing I can do to change that. But this is the thing... how did it get so bad? Maybe that's a stupid question, but who are the selfish douchebags that got us in this position? Can we line them all up and throw rocks at them?

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this won't actually happen to me (though, the pink slip I'll be getting next week will be a reminder for 3 months that it could), but I have plenty of friends who this WILL happen to. They WILL lose their jobs. And they have mortgages and families and car payments. What will they do?

I don't understand what you want from us. Most of us have done our best to be good citizens, pay our shit on time, and not make any lame purchases. But you're still f-ing with us. And I'm disgusted with it.

So you and your debt can kiss my ass. My friends and I will be feeling sorry for ourselves at the local bar next Friday. Maybe the money we contribute in drinks will help soften the debt.

Pissed off,
A teacher who loves her job, but might lose it after 7 years

Dear Jason,

2009-02-24T21:31:00.000-08:00

Wow. You're hot. Seriously. The smile, the abs... wow. I just have to get that out of the way.

Now for more pressing issues... what the hell is your deal? I have been so proud of your choices for each elimination throughout the season. The crazy dental assistant, the booby lady with no self confidence, even the aggressive teacher. You let them all go and I wanted to give you a high five every time. You've been smart about this process and I respect that.

Until last week.

What in the hell were you thinking getting rid of Jillian???? You're crazy. Best friends? Were you not in the hot tub scene we all drooled over??? You crazy. She's cute, fun, independent, knows who the hell she is and what she stands for. And she's just a best friend??? She's too "adventurous?" I call bullshit. Something's off there, and I call bullshit on your ass.

I hope that Melissa, your obvious next choice, will make a good wife. Or publicity stunt for the next few weeks. Whatever you want to call it. Please don't totally piss me off and choose Molly. It's not that I dislike Molly. It's just like I like Melissa and Jillian more.

Good luck next week. You better make the right choice. But, if they don't work out, I'll totally give you my number.

Lotsa love,
B

My dear, sweet students...

2009-02-23T16:41:00.000-08:00

Hi. It's me. Your teacher. The one you've had since September. The one most of you hoped you were going to get when you walked up to the lists on the first day of school. The one that you wanted because you thought I was "cool" and "young." The one you thought was going to be more of your friend than an actual adult that expected things out of you. You poor, mistaken child.

Yeah, hi. Remember me? Remember the first month of school when I laid down the law and most of you tried to test me to see if I'd really follow through with what I said? Remember when I actually did? Over and over and over?

So this is the thing. Some of you have lost your minds recently. Some of you have made it your mission to drive me crazy each and every day, lately. And that's fine. Because I will win. I win every time. You maybe haven't realized that. Of course you haven't realized that.

See, it's just past the halfway mark of the school year. We still have 3 and 1/2 months to go with each other. I've already told you that I will not give in. So you must. And you must make the decision to give in soon. Now, if at all possible. Because I might do something that might cause me to be on the 5:00 news. I'll be the teacher, who some kid videotapes with his phone, duct taping a student's mouth closed. It was a joke in the first place, we all knew that. But the cops will bust into my apartment and drag me away to the slammer, because you wouldn't stop. And I don't want that. YOU don't want that. People will look at you and point and stare. It's not the kind of fame you want, believe me.

So this is what I'm asking:
Please, simmer down. Please. For the love of all that is holy... simmer down. Stop yelling across the room because someone farted (on purpose) in class. Stop kicking puddles of water on the girls in class. Stop passing notes when you're supposed to be silent reading. Stop. Stop. Stop.

I love you guys. I really do. You crack me up every single day. But I might hurt myself if I have to deal with your crazy shenanigans for the next 3 and 1/2 months. Really, I might.

Thanks for listening. Don't forget to do your homework tonight.

Miss Teacher

Dear Blog,

2009-02-22T20:51:00.002-08:00

Yeah, I realize that you and I have been distant lately. And I apologize. But when I really got into you, I was purging feelings about my issues and then healing from those issues. After that was all worked out, I feel like you and I had nothing in common.

But I've been thinking... I think you and I were good together. However, I'm not the same person I was. In fact, I feel like the old me was what tore us apart. I want to try this again. I want you and I to try us again. What do you think? I'm not going to be the same person I was, but I think it'll actually help our relationship.

I hope you can forgive me for the month-long hiatus. I promise I feel renewed and I will be back in your life more than I have been. I owe it to you. I owe it to me. You make me feel like a writer and I want that back in my life.

Think about it.

Love always,
Brandi

A day in history

2009-01-20T16:39:00.000-08:00

I wasn't sure if I wanted to watch the inauguration in class today. I knew I wanted to see it, but I didn't know if my students would appreciate it. I went for it anyway and these are some of the things that took place:

When the Clintons were getting seated, one student asked if Bill was Hillary's dad. I waited to listen to what the reaction was. One girl was like, "Uh, hello! That's her husband! That's Bill Clinton!" And one of the kids who said it was like, "Oh," with obvious cluelessness in his voice. So I sat back and thought about it... they were 4-years old when Bush was voted into office the first term. Duh, they don't know who Bill Clinton is!
They wanted to know how old Obama's daughters were. I got on the computer and found out for them. They couldn't believe that Malia was only 10. They thought she looked their age or older.
There was a lot of clapping going on. Some of it I'm sure was genuine. However, I'm positive that some of them just wanted to hear the sound of their hands smacking together. They were shooshed by other students actually trying to listen and watch.
They were quite disappointed at how short the actual swearing in was. They found it funny when he couldn't remember the entire line of oath that was fed to him in the beginning.
One student who I was sitting by is an obvious immigrant. And if he's not an immigrant, I know FOR SURE his parents are. He has learned English in the last few years and is a classic case of an English Language Learner. He's super smart in Math, but struggles in anything else having to do with reading and understanding the English language. Anyway, he was SO excited to watch everything. At one point he turned to me and asked what age Americans get to vote. When I told him 18, I could see him doing the math in his head about how much longer he had. It was so awesome to see that spark.
When Biden was getting sworn in, a lot of kids wanted to know what his job was. I compared it to our principal and assistant principal, and then someone shouted, "If Obama gets killed, he takes over." Um, yes. Thanks for the clarification.
They were also fascinated with the name Yo Yo Ma. They couldn't stop talking about the name when that performance was taking place.

There was a girl who was VERY negative about having to watch it. I heard her outside before school talking obvious trash about Obama taking over power. This makes me sad, not because I truly believe Obama means change, but because her parents are obviously feeding her this information. I mean, I get it if people voted for McCain and are upset. However, the decision has been made and they need to teach their child to accept it. The negativity makes me sick. For the last 3 elections, I voted Democrat. I lost in the 2 prior to this one. But you didn't hear me speaking negatively about who was chosen to rule. I accepted it and hoped for the best. It's sad that adults think it's ok to be so negative around their children.

I was glad I got to watch it with my students. Most were into it. Some realized the enormity of today. But most of all, I want them to be able to look back and remember that they got to watch when history was being made. I hope that many of them will be able to look back and say, "I remember when I saw the first African American President was sworn into office."

I know I'll remember it for as long as I live.

Countdown to:

2009-01-13T16:38:00.000-08:00

NYC = 22 days

Paris & London = 66 days

Did I mention I was going to Paris and London in March? Oh, well guess what? I'm going to Paris and London in March. And we're staying in Kensington in London. "Hellooo Mrs. Kensington." (I'm obsessed with that quote.)

Ah, to be young and single....

The pictures still make me itchy

2009-01-06T19:55:00.000-08:00

This is what I should have walked into.

But this is what I actually walked into.

This is what my desk and shelf o' resources should have looked like.

But this is somehow how it ended up after the carpet was installed. Notice one of the crew members left his dirty ass thermos. Asshole. Into the trash it went.

Why I didn't have a meltdown, I have no idea.
They did manage to put the desks back in the correct place, weirdly enough. But forgot about putting the chairs back with the desks. Ugh.

And my computers? Yeah, Those green plastic bins are totally wrong. And whose poor pencil boxes were left on the table???

After 2 hours of cleaning and organizing, I got it all back to normal. Whew.

Oh wait, they moved my radio close enough to an outlet so that they could plug it in and listen to whatever it is they were listening to while not giving a shit about my stuff.

I'm glad it's over and my room is back in its organized order. If you know me, you know how shitty this was for me. I hate the carpet crew and I would kick each and every one of them in the balls if I had the chance.

There, I feel better.

My welcome back to work

2009-01-05T18:05:00.001-08:00

So today was my first day back to work. Our school got new carpet over Winter Break, which is awesome because this is my 7th year there and the carpet was kinda disgusting. Anyway, the memo to us about how to prepare our classrooms went something like this: "Remove all valuables and breakables." That's it. No "Can you please make sure to label the student desks" or "Please pack up and make it as easy as possible for the crew to move the furniture." Nothing. I kinda thought it was too good to be true, but I went with it because I was getting my room done on the day that we got out for Winter Break, and at 11:30, I just wanted to get the hell outta there.

So at 11:35 that day, the carpet guy says to me, "Are you going to be leaving soon?" And I say, "Yeah, what is it that you need me to do in here?" And he says, "Nothing. You're fine. We'll take care of it."

Two weeks later I come into my classroom and it literally looks like they turned it upside-down, installed the carpet, shook it up, and then turned it right-side up. Literally.

Now I want to find the motherfuckers that carpeted my room and kick them in the balls. Thank goodness I teach 12-year olds and they were more than happy to come in this morning and watch "Finding Nemo" while I ran around sweating, in my nice work clothes, cleaning up my classroom so I could teach. Imagine that.

I took pictures but when they were downloaded onto the school secretary's computer, she erased them from my memory card. I'm going to have her email them to me so you can see the extent of my morning.

Welcome back.

Does this shit happen to anyone else???

2009-01-04T09:18:00.004-08:00

i go to Fullerton college and i was wondering if you would be interested in modeling your feet for my upcoming website. All that i ask is that you acompany me to the library and we would film for about 10 minutes at any time that would be easy for you. I know this sounds weird in a way but i hope that it sparks some interest. If you are interested just give me a message and i will set everything up.Thank you for your time. hope to hear from you soon.

This is the email I got on Facebook at around 12:30am (I didn't change anything, I just took out the guy's name.)

Does this dude just randomly pick chicks on Facebook? I'm kinda weirded out and intrigued all at the same time. And does he not know about my feet? I'm tempted to email back and play around a little but I'm afraid I might find him in my closet smelling my shoes when I got home from work one day.

Dear Next-Door Neighbors,

2009-01-02T16:23:00.000-08:00

Yeah, hi. It's me. The girl whose front door is merely 3 feet away from your front door. The girl who shares the same teeny tiny hallway as you. The girl who need not hear your loud family partying and then arguing in Spanish on a Thursday night. At 10:30 on a Thursday night. Yeah, I get it, you like to throw a few back from time-to-time. But see, this is the thing... when throwing a few back with other family members causes your grown daughter to step out on the balcony and shout at her boyfriend/husband about how he needs to (and I quote), "Mind his fucking business," and how just because the boyfriend/husband "didn't have a fucking father" doesn't mean that she can't enjoy a night of drinking with her dad. She "likes hanging out with her dad." If it then causes you and your daughter's boyfriend/husband to get in a shouting match, whereupon your daughter is trying to calm you down because you are so drunk, and then she leaves, shouting Spanish profanities (2 feet from my front door) at 11:00pm, you should probably tone down the tequila shots.

Don't get me wrong, I myself am a lover of the fine drink called tequila. I thank the Mexicans everyday for the love-of-my-life named Patron. But I can handle my alcohol. Maybe it's my half-Mexicanness that allows me to not open my front door 10 minutes after my daughter and her husband/boyfriend leave, shouting something in Spanish about the devil ("blah blah blah el diablo!" is what I remember). Maybe it's because I'm 30 and not 57. Maybe it's because I don't have my family of 3 (possibly 4) living in a one-bedroom apartment. It could be any number of things.

The fact of the matter is that, yes, that was me who called after-hours security on your loud, drunk ass. I wasn't scared. My door was locked. But, see, I don't mind the ocassional family gatherings, even perhaps the drinking. What I do mind is the loudness. And the drama. And the all-out trashiness that you displayed last night.

Get it together Next-Door Neighbors. Get it together.

Donde esta el bano?

2008-12-27T10:45:00.000-08:00

My Mexicanness has been under questioning lately. And I don't wonder why. Quite frankly, I'm surprised it wasn't questioned earlier.

Yesterday, I did a class at the gym called Zumba. This is seriously one of the greatest aerobics classes ever invented. This is the desription:
"This workout combines high energy and motivating music with synchronized dance movements designed for any fitness level. The routines feature aerobic fitness interval training with a combination of fast and slow rhythms that tone and sculpt the body. Want to burn some calories and have fun? Then Zumba is for you!"

At first, my friend and I were like, so? This could be Senior Fit for all we know. So we investigated. We asked the lady who teaches Step what this Zumba thing was. I don't remember exactly what she said, but I heard 'Latin music' and 'Latin dance moves' in her description. We were sold.

So we went to the next Zumba class and were mesmorized by the music and dance moves and aerobic workout. But this is the thing... I apparently have no Latin rhythm. You know how they put those mirrors up so you can check yourself out while you're getting your aerobisize on? (Why do they have the mirrors up?) Well, I made the mistake of taking my eyes off of the instructor to see what I looked like. Holy shit! I instantly became embarrassed at my lack of Latin rhythm. There were 2 Latin girls behind me who obviously knew how to be Latin and that I'm sure called each other after the class to discuss my lack of Latinness.

Another reason why I suck at being Mexican? I can't handle spicy foods. At all. Like, my nose runs when I eat the salsa they give you at Mexican restaurants. But that's my dad's fault, who is the reason for my half-Mexicanness. He sweats when he eats that salsa.

Another reason why I suck at being Mexican? I can't a-speak a-Spanish. It drives my not-Mexican friend who is the.greatest.Spanish.speaker.ever crazy. I actually met her in a Spanish class this summer. I suck at speaking Spanish. I think it's because I know I should be better and I'm embarrassed, so I don't try. I hang my head in shame at my horribleness. Ok, in my defense, I have the first semester of Spanish nailed. But really, who doesn't. Verbs are my enemy. They should die an unholy death for being so difficult to memorize. Expecially the stem-changers and the irregulars. I hate them. So I gave up learning.

So, yes, I kinda suck at being Mexican. But I'm not sad about it. Why? Because I got the skin color and the ass to prove my Mexicanness. Sure, my last name is there too, but that'll change one day. I'll always have the skin and ass. So what now?

You know you want my Mexicanness.

I'm sorry litle piggy

2008-12-24T12:46:00.000-08:00

Ew. I just discovered something that I kinda knew was going to happen but didn't really want it to. One of my toenails is going to come off. Yeah, I know. Gross. But I was told it would happen as a runner. As a matter of fact, my feet and toenails are so jacked up since I started running, I'm going to go and see a podiatrist. That's how bad it's become. And I'm not going to quit running. That would be crazy!

So yeah, I'm losing a nail. And I think I'm losing the worst one of all. My big toenail!! Ugh. I'm not happy. At least I can be thankful that it's wintertime and my toes will be covered 98% of the time anyway. And when they're not, I'm the only that will see. Ew. I'm so grossed out.

Metamorphosis? Conversion? Modification? Shift? Transformation?

2008-12-22T15:50:00.001-08:00

How does one know that they've changed? Sure, you can change a hair style or a shirt and see the results right away. But how does a person know they've changed? Are we always changing? Do some people just never change? Is it something you don't realize because you're with yourself every second of every hour of every day?

At the beginning of summer, I decided that I wanted to change. I wanted to be a better me. I wanted to be more independent and more in love with myself. But have I achieved that? And if I did, how do I know? Is it all a mindset? Why do I feel like I have some days and haven't other days? Why do people call me an inspiration, but I don't see how what I do in my existence is any different that what another person does? How am I an inspiration? It doesn't make sense to me.

I feel like I've achieved a lot of things in the past few months that I never thought I was capable of doing, but I still feel like the same person. It's like when someone says, "I don't feel 30." Well, what does 30 feel like? What does change feel like? Would I know if I felt it? Or do I just look back one day and say, "Wow, I've changed." And how long does that take? How long does change take? Is it like love, where you just know?

I thought these holidays were going to be difficult. And when I think of difficult, I think of when I was without the 8-year ex on holidays and I would feel sick and sad and would just want to sit in a room by myself because I couldn't handle being without him. But it's not like that. I'm not sad. But I'm not totally happy. I'm lonely. But I'm not depressed. I would rather not be alone, but being alone isn't so bad. Ok, that's a change from the 8-year ex, but is it the change I'm looking for?

I don't know exactly what I'm looking for right now. Maybe I'm looking for happiness. Maybe I'm looking for a bigger change. I've been contemplating moving. And not like moving down the street like I have been for the last 7 years. I mean moving. New York? Overseas? Am I running from something? Am I running to something? Will it help me discover anything about myself? Is it worth leaving everything I love and have known for the last 30 years to relocate? What if I hate it? What if I can't come back to what I have right now? I love my job... where I work, who I work with, the kids I teach, the respect that I've earned. What if I leave and I can't handle my new life? I don't know what to do. And I shouldn't make this decision right now if I'm not ready to. But what if I am ready and I'm just scared? I was scared to take my trip by myself, but once I did it, it was fine. Once I got out of the car at LAX, I was calm. And I never looked back. I got homesick once, but I think it was the conditions of the overnight stay. But what if I hate the conditions if I move?

I've told quite a few people about moving and everyone that I talk to (except my parents, of course) have told me to do it. If they were in my position, they would in a heartbeat. But would they? And maybe some have. But they didn't do it alone. I don't even know if it's what I'm looking for. I don't know what I'm looking for, to be honest. Change. That's what I'm looking for. And maybe that's what's happening and I don't even realize it. But I want to see it. I want to know I'm making progress toward my goal.

What does change look like?

Swim -Jack's Mannequin

2008-12-22T15:39:00.003-08:00

You gotta swim
Swim for your life
Swim for the music
That saves you
When you're not so sure you'll survive
You gotta swim
Swim when it hurts
The whole world is watching
You haven't come this far
To fall off the earth
The currents will pull you
Away from your love
Just keep your head above

I found a tidal wave
Begging to tear down the door
Memories like bullets
They fired at me from a gun
Cracking me open yeah
I swim to brighter days
Despite the absense of sun
Choking on salt water
I'm not giving in
I swim

You gotta swim
For nights that won't end
Swim for your families
Your lovers your sisters
And brothers your friends
Yeah you gotta swim
For wars without cause
Swim for the lost politicians
Who don't see their greed is a flaw
The currents will pull us
Away from our love
Just keep your head above

I found a tidal wave
Begging to tear down the door
Memories like bullets
They fired at me from a gun
Cracking me open now
I swim to brighter days
Despite of the absense of sun
Choking on salt water
I'm not giving in
I'm not giving in
I swim

You gotta swim
Swim in the dark
There's an ocean to drift in
Feel the tide shifting away from the spark
Yeah you gotta swim
Don't let yourself sink
Just follow the horizon
I promise you it's not as far as you think
The currents will drag us away from our love
Just keep your head above
Just keep your head above
Swim
Just keep your head above
Swim, swim
Just keep your head above
Swim

Dear MySpace,

2008-12-18T19:11:00.001-08:00

Hi.

Yeah, I know, we haven't talked in awhile. I mean, I've said brief 'hellos' here and there but I haven't really stayed and visited with you in a long time. But this is the thing. I've met someone new. And sure, they may not have the same qualities as you. You allowed me to decorate my page and post fun pictures and stuff. But I have to say, I've grown tired of it all. It's exhausting. I'd pick a profile set-up and then be tired of it 3 days later. I'd post things that I thought were funny and couldn't handle looking at them within a week. My profile song started out as my favorite, and then within a few days I hated it. I can't get tired of music that quickly.

We've just grown apart. There's nothing more I can say. We've grown apart and you've been replaced by something that just holds my interest more. I'm sorry if that hurts your feelings, but it's true. So you can keep the things I've left at your place. I don't need them anymore. Let's just make a clean break so it doesn't go on forever. It's not healthy for either of us.

Thanks for the memories and the friends you got me back in touch with (and then probably lost touch with again).

Love,
Brandi

Back to the Big Apple

2008-12-15T21:00:00.001-08:00

I.am.so.excited. Why, you ask? Perhaps it's because IamgoingbacktoNewYork!!!!!! I went earlier this year (in February) and LOVED it. I was only there for 3 days and I was there on business (sounds so professional) and I was sick. But I've recently found an old friend on Facebook that lives there currently and she has graciously invited me to come and stay with her and her boyfriend. I'm so excited. Have I said that yet? I haven't seen her in a little over 10 years and I'm so excited to hang out and visit some of the places that I missed when I was there last. In what is apparently the coldest time of the year there. Awesome.

Countdown for another trip. Yay! I love traveling!

It's the hap happiest time of the year

2008-12-14T08:43:00.000-08:00

So you know how when it's Christmas time and you go shopping and you buy like 8 things for yourself and 1 actual Christmas gift? No? Oh wait, that's me this season. I think I have an addiction. Seriously. I've gone Christmas shopping like 5 times so far and each time, I come home with at least $100 worth of stuff for me. And I don't even feel guilty. Why? Because I look fabulous in my new big-girl jeans, cute shirts, awesome camel-colored coat that kept me fantastically warm an at outdoor baby shower yesterday, adorable shoes, fantastic new makeup that makes my skin less oily and even-toned, gorgeous rings that hide the fact that I'm don't have a rock on my left hand, and long-sleeved running shirt with moisture wick that kept me warm and dry yesterday on my 10-mile run.

I have also learned all sorts of stuff this year:

My dad and brother are the same person. "What do you want for Christmas?" "Nothing." What?!? I don't care how old I get, I'll never say that. Call me selfish, call me materialistic. I love getting gifts. But, to be fair, I love giving gifts too. So when you say, "nothing," I call bullshit on your ass. Because you're ruining my fun. And for that, you should get over yourself.

I can no longer shop in the Juniors department. At least the Brass Plum of Nordstrom. Why Erin? Because when I dress younger, it makes me look older. So while shopping for myself Christmas presents the other day, I was told I had to try on big-girl jeans. Not like, wow, that's a big girl. No, like, mommy wow! I'm a big girl now! Apparently I'm 30. And my curves are not that of a 16-year old. Is that why I feel like I find myself sucking in my stomach when I'm driving because it's hanging over my ultra-low jeans when I drive? Is that why I always wear an extra long shirt so that my crack doesn't wave to those behind me when I sit or bend over? Ok, let's do this. Give me a pair. So I zip them up and automatically feel weird, but free from sucking it in. They're higher but not 'mom' jeans. I still have about an inch of skin showing below my belly button. And boy were they comfy. And the best part? There are no size zeros!!! I do not feel ginormous while sifting through to the back of the rack! Thank you Erin! Thank you! And to top it off, I get compliments on my new big girl jeans at work the next day. Freedom....

People are awesome. Especially some of those that I used to go to high school with or hung out with back then. I recently rejoined Facebook and I.love.it. I have found so many cool people that I used to hang out with 13 years ago (or longer) that are so freakin funny. I'm already planning a trip back to New York with a friend from back-in-the-day that I lost touch with but found on Facebook. I mean, I like MySpace because I get to do stuff with my page, but honestly, I'm considering dropping that account because I never use it. Facebook is my new BFF. And it tells me things like, "Serena VanderWoodsen is the Gossip Girl character that I'm most like," and "Princess Bride is the 80s movie that describes me most." MySpace doesn't do that shit! Yeah, I think I might break up with MySpace.

Turns out that this Christmas thing isn't so bad after all. I think I might be falling back in love with it.

You know you want to download it.

2008-12-08T17:43:00.000-08:00

Ho, ho, ho!
Oh Little Train, my little elf, another great Christmas.
Ah, man, it's boring, it's boring, same thing every year.
So let's have a funky Christmas!

(Something is said here but I can't figure it out.) C'mon c'mon. Uh huh.
Ho ho ho.
Hey where's that beat comin' from?
Check it out.
Hey yo that's my homeboys New Kids On the Block!
Hey, this is pretty funky!

Have a funky funky Christmas. Have a funky funky Christmas.

New Kids On The Block, let's rock! It's Christmas time.
We're gonna celebrate with a rhyme.
Danny D, are you ready? - Ready as I'll ever be
Steady - you know, Joey Joe is ready!
Jordan and Jon? Yeah! Come on, we got a funky, funky Christmas going on.

Have a funky funky Christmas. Have a funky funky Christmas.

(Jordan)
Funky Christmas! And a funky New Year! I swear we got ourselves a party here.
Girls on the floor, Northside posse at the door
Should I stop? Nah cool - here's more - of this song, a funky Christmas melody
'Cause Jordan K feels so Christmasy
Throw your hands in the air - now pause - kick the ballistics Santa Claus!

Have a funky funky Christmas. Have a funky funky Christmas.

(Joe in odd English accent)
Sneaking downstairs on Christmas Eve
I saw a sight that you just wouldn't believe:
St. Nick, by the fireplace, dusting off his booty with a frown on his face.
He said hey - I said what - he said you - I said what.
He said you left the fire burning and I burnt my butt
So now I've learned, you've got to turn
The fireplace down so Santa won't get burned.

Have a funky funky Christmas. Have a funky funky Christmas.

Yo MC Santa, you didn't know my boy Donnie could play percussion, did you?
I didn't have a clue.
Yeah, get busy Donnie.

(Donnie solo) Yeah. Uh huh.
Hey check this out Little Train.
Go 'head.
Ho ho ho ho ho. Ho ho ho ho ho. Ho ho ho ho ho. Ho ho ho... Break it down!

Have a funky funky Christmas. Have a funky funky Christmas.

(Danny)
Slipping and sliding through the city streets
I'll be in town getting down to the Christmas beat.
It's Danny D, I'm here, with Christmas cheer
No feeling to end the party of the year.
It's going, I'm showing, fresh rhymes I'm throwing,
It's snowing outside but we ho-ho-hoing.
Santa's on the way, sleigh bells are ringing, swinging, everybody start singing.

Have a funky funky Christmas. Have a funky funky Christmas.

It's Christmas, can you swing this?
Funky, dope jam top on your Christmas LIST, do you dig this?
Boy, there ain't no twist.
Just something you wish for and you almost missed - huh!
Funky Christmas, and a Happy New Year, how could you be booin' it?
With Donnie D's doing it?

Have a funky funky Christmas. Have a funky funky Christmas.

Ho, ho, ho, this is the MC Santa Claus and my elf, Little Train.
Yeah, merry Christmas, merry Christmas, we gonna kick the ballistics of our Christmas wishes.

(Insert Donnie Santa Claus and his elf listing off 'label' people and commenting on them.)

Yo merry merry merry Christmas!
And a funky New Year.
Man!
Hey, it's getting cold out here.
Yo man, let's get on them reindeer and let's bust outta here.
Let's get. Let's get. Peace.
Peace.

Did a bum shower in my sink?

2008-12-03T18:06:00.000-08:00

Oh, and P.S. This is what my bathroom sink looked like when I came home today.

I don't know what happened between the time I brushed my teeth at 6:45 this morning and 3:45 when I went pee after I got home. You can't see it, but it's full of water too. No wait, half full of water. Because the other half is underneath the sink soaked into my newly purchased toilet paper and girlie goods.

Fuck.

Anything else?

Die TWC. Die.

2008-12-03T17:22:00.000-08:00

I fucking hate Time Warner Cable.

Do they think that no one works? Do they assume that all of their customers are available at the stupid time frames that they have for service? 12-3. 3-6. What the fuck? I work, you dumbasses! I work a half-hour away and cannot get home until 3:30 at the very earliest. And that's pushing it. I literally have to excuse my class, grab my shit, and get in my car.

And why in the hell do they install cable boxes that are as old as dirt? Oh wait, to get my money when they have to come back out to reinstall a newer box. Ugh. I hate you TWC.

So a couple of weeks ago, I wanted to rent a movie on Pay Per View. Awesome. I went through the button-pushing process, hit 'buy,' and wallah! Nothing. Fuck. Try it again. And.... nothing. Son of a ....

I pick up the phone and dial 1-888-TW-CABLE (which, on a side note, is equally awesome because I have a BlackBerry and those little letters are so totally not on my numbers).

Thank goodness the smartest-TWC-associate-ever picks up the line. She proceeds to tell me that I can't get the movie because my cable box is too old. What do you mean 'it's too old??" I just moved in here and got it installed like 3 months ago! Yeah, sometimes we install the older boxes, but I'm not really sure why because we have problems like this frequently. Well, WTF? Can I get a NEW cable box? Yeah, but we have to charge you for someone to come out and install it. But what I'll do is give you the box for free for a year. You must be able to see my thoughts through the phone because you charging me is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard of in my life. You are charging me for something that should have been taken care of in the first place.

So anyway, we get the discounts set up, the movie taken off my bill, and an appointment set up.

How's December 3 between 3 and 6 sound? Do you have anything later because I can't be home until 3:30. The latest we have is between 3 and 6. Um, ok, but I CAN"T BE HOME UNTIL 3:30. Ok, well I'll put a note on this order to call before the appointment and that you can't be there until 3:30. Awesome.

Flash to today, December 3 at 5:00. For some reason, I had a feeling they weren't coming so I called.

Yeah, hi, I had an appointment scheduled for today and I was just wondering if it was still in your system? Oh.... yeah.... I have a note here that says they came to a 'yellow house' at 3:25 and no one was there. (Are you fucking kidding me?) First, I don't live in a house. Second - Is your apartment building yellow? Well, yes, I suppose. But this is the thing. I specifically told the person that made the appointment that I wasn't able to be here until 3:30 and she specifically told me that she'd make a note that they should call before coming out and that it HAS to be after 3:30. Well, I understand, but your appointment was scheduled between 3 and 6. Right. I get that. But I work. And your availability does not fit with my availability. And I told the last person that and she assured me that it wouldn't be a problem. I'm sorry about that. (No you're not, you fucking whore.) We can schedule you for another day. Let's see... we have next Wednesday between 3 and 6...? Yeah, no. I work. I.can't.get.here.until.3:30. Oh, well, that's the only time we have available on weekdays. Really? Because when I got cable installed 3 months ago, my appointment was between 4 and 7. Oh, well, we don't have anything that late. Ok, so for someone that works.... what might your suggestion be for an appointment time? We can do Saturdays. Ok, what are the slots available?

So she schedules me for 2 and a half weeks from today.

If I had an opportunity to switch to another cable company, I would do it in a heartbeat. Literally. I'd give TWC the middle finger and tell them to kiss my college-degreed, I-have-a-career-working ass.

Dear Time Warner Cable,
I hate you.
You should die.
Regards,
Brandi

I'm sorry, where?

2008-12-01T19:03:00.000-08:00

Today, in class, I saw a small wad of paper fly across the room and hit one of my (hilarious) girls in the collarbone. Before I could say anything to the area that it came from, I hear, "That hit me in my dignity!"

All I could do was laugh. I didn't care who threw it or why at that point. That hit me in my dignity? Seriously, this is what I get at least once a day. They crack me up.

I almost passed out

2008-11-27T09:21:00.000-08:00

Holy shit. I finally went. I finally saw them. After being 12-years old and in the fan club. After sleeping on sheets with all 5 of their faces. After not being able to go back then because my family was too poor. I finally got to see them. And holy shit was it worth every minute.

Maybe it was the 3.5 $12 margaritas. Maybe it was the decent seats. Maybe it was the screaming 30-something year old chicks all around me. But I fell in love all over again. Let me share some pictures of this fantastic event.

This chick was part of a 5-grouper that each had a letter of NKOTB on the front of their shirts. The backs of their shirts all said something crafty. This was by-far the best one.

Oh my GOD! The show was starting!!!!

THERETHEYAREOHMYGOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jordan and his famous wind inducing, shirt opening move. **sigh**

Holy poop! They came into the audience!!

Pyrotechnics and all!!!!

Check out Joey's pose. This pic was frozen on the screen and they all talked shit to him.

Can you guess the song? It was the closer.

Ladies, if you didn't get to go this time around, I feel bad for you. These guys are so much hotter the second time around. I can't even pick just one, because I want them all for different reasons. Forget that they're fathers and husbands (and maybe gay). Ok, don't forget that, but imagine that they're not. I'm so happy they came back to us. I swear to the heavens I'll be a Block Head for life.

I do what I do because I love what I do

2008-11-23T08:55:00.000-08:00

I got this email yesterday and thought it was fan-freakin-tastic. So I'm posting it.

Are you sick of high paid teachers? Teachers' hefty salaries are driving up taxes, and they only work 9 or 10 months a year! It's time we put things in perspective and pay them for what they do - baby sit!

We can get that for less than minimum wage. That's right. Let's give them $3.00 an hour and only the hours they worked; not any of that silly planning time, or any time they spend before or after school.

That would be $19.50 a day (7:45to 3:00 PM with 45 min. off for lunch and plan -- that equals 6 1/2 hours). Each parent should pay $19.50 a day for these teachers to baby-sit their children.

Now how many do they teach in day...maybe 30? So that's $19.50 x 30= $585.00 a day. However, remember they only work 180 days a year!!! I am not going to pay them for any vacations.

LET'S SEE.... That's $585 X 180= $105,300 per year. (Hold on! My calculator needs new batteries). What about those special education teachers and the ones with Master's degrees? Well, we could pay them minimum wage ($7.75), and just to be fair, round it off to $8.00 an hour. That would be $8 X 6 1/2 hours X 30 children X 180 days = $280,800 per year. Wait a minute -- there's something wrong here!

There sure is! The average teacher's salary (nationwide) is $50,000. $50,000/180 days = $277.77/per day/30 students=$9.25/6.5 hours = $1.42 per hour per student --a very inexpensive baby-sitter and they even EDUCATE your kids!

WHAT A DEAL.

Dearest Edward,

2008-11-21T19:09:00.000-08:00

Hi. You don't know me. But I know you. And I should probably tell you that I'm in love with you. Or, at least the you in my head. Ok, and you on the screen, because you're both so similar. I realize you're a vampire and my scent might possibly cause you to sink your teeth into the soft, sensitive part of my neck, but, like Bella, I don't care. And really, that's one of those spots for me. So I'm willing to risk it.

And sure, you're only 17 in human years. I don't care if people call me a cougar. Though technically, you're much older in vampire years...107 to be exact. And usually, the thought of being with a Hugh Hefner type of sugar daddy grosses me out, but I'd be willing to break my rule for you. Or the you in my head. Or, quite frankly, the you on the screen (because you're 22). This age thing means nothing to me.

I hope this doesn't freak you out. And feel free to turn me into a vampire. Just try and restrain yourself when biting.

Or maybe don't. Because it could be hot.

Love,
Brandi

Jack's Mannequin

2008-11-20T21:17:00.000-08:00

I just discovered a great band.

I love music. If you know me, I am pretty decent at naming a band or knowing something about a pretty wide range of musical talents. Ever since George Michael and Depeche Mode entered my cassette player back in the day, I've been into a variety of music. I can dance and get excited about lame pop bands. I can also appreciate some highly acclaimed bands from past and present.

So anyway, being a lover and a tryer of new music, I've recently been introduced to a band called Jack's Mannequin. Yeah, I realize that this band has been around for a few years and even before that, the lead singer was also the lead of Something Corporate. But this is the thing. I just found them. And I love them.

I have to say, the lead singer's story kinda got me all love bubble-ish about the band in the first place. Andrew McMahon's story is a little oh-my-gosh worthy. The guy had a repetitive case of laryngitis and went to see his doctor, whereupon his doc told him he wasn't looking well and performed some tests. Turns out Andrew was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Just a few months before his first CD for Jack's Mannequin was supposed to be released. Yeah, I know. Holy shit. He was 22-years old. Thankfully, it was fully treatable. But still.

In doing more research, I found Andrew's blog that totally takes you through the before and after of the diagnosis. You can totally tell he's a songwriter, because his writing is deep and genius. I don't know, maybe I'm just a sucker for all that passionate guy stuff. It makes me remember that they do have feelings and are not just closed off and confusing. (Thanks Andrew.)

So I was told that upon first review, the music was good and worth the purchase....but then after a few songs, you're like, "Whoa, this is the shit." And so I bought Everything In Transit and just put it on in the background as I was reading. I have not been able to listen to anything else since Wednesday. I'm so serious. I bought their second CD, The Glass Passenger, yesterday. It's a bit darker (rightfully so, it's after the diagnosis), but it's still fantastic.

Just in case you're wondering (and I know you totally are), my favorite songs at this moment are "Bruised" and "Dark Blue." I'm sure those will change as I listen to the second CD more, but I'll just throw those out there right now.

Do me a favor and just check 'em out. If you hate 'em, you hate 'em. But at least you considered it for a sec.

M-I-C...Ugh

2008-11-17T14:58:00.000-08:00

Yesssssss... this is what I get to walk out to each and every day until Christmas. I.am.so.excited. Thank you new neighbor family next door. Nothing says the holidays like Mickey and Minnie.

Should I be fearing Chris Hansen?

2008-11-16T22:06:00.000-08:00

Oh my gosh everyone. I didn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it. But it's so true. It's so very, very true. This Stephanie Meyer chick is the shit. The bomb, yo. She has gotten me interested in *wince* vampires. What in the hell is wrong with me? Isn't this supposed to be a series of books for 15-year old girls? Why am I in love with Edward? Why do I refuse to see even a preview of the movie that comes out on Friday so as not to ruin the (*coughcough* erotic *coughcough*) image of him that I've conjured up in my head? Why did my 28-year old friend tell me that it was ok to have a crush on him and it won't at all seem pedophile-ish? What is wrong with us? We're grown women! I started reading the book this afternoon (well, actually last night, but fell asleep within 20 pages because it was near midnight) and I'm halfway through about 500 pages. Why am I secretly excited to know that school is canceled tomorrow (poor air quality) because it now means I can finish this book? And I don't mean in the morning. I mean tonight. I can stay up and read all.night.long.

I love you Edward.

The hills of North OC are burning

2008-11-15T16:57:00.000-08:00

I went out to run some errands today and realized how close these OC fires are to me. I live in between the Brea and Yorba Linda/Anaheim Hills fire. If I were to be evacuated (which is highly unlikely, I hope) I wouldn't even be able to get to my parents' house because all the fwys and streets and canyons are closed on the way there. I have all my windows closed but I can still smell smoke inside my apartment. I drove to my friend's house to pick up a book and it took me about 45-60 minutes. This is usually a 15 minute drive, at most. People are standing outside, taking pictures. You'd think the world was coming to an end. And maybe it is for some people. I have never seen anything like this. It's an eerie vibe out here.

Present tense

2008-11-15T10:47:00.000-08:00

I had an epiphany while watching Lipstick Jungle (I'm so sad it's being canceled). The hot waiter/massage therapist that tried to kiss Victory said something about living in the present. His line was something of this nature: "Live in the present. The past is the past. When you speak, speak in present tense."

It was a small line in the episode, and I've heard it a number of times before. But today it struck me. I need to start doing that. And I need to start doing it now. I don't know how many times I've spoken about something that has happened in the past. I did it when I was with the ex. I'm doing it now because of the ex. I need to stop. The past is the past. I cannot change what has happened or how my life has panned out. I can only use what I have learned and live in the here and now.

I am now going to begin living in the present tense. I am going to make a conscious effort to use language that has to do with the present tense. Especially during these holidays. I am not alone. My dad said that to me the other day and it was a really sweet comment. Just because I don't have a boyfriend, doesn't mean that I am alone. I have a wonderful and loving group of friends and family that are always here for me. Thanks Dad. It's so true and I overlook that too easily.

Sigh... another step in this process.

A few things because I haven't blogged in awhile

2008-11-10T21:23:00.001-08:00

I signed up for another half marathon. It's on Super Bowl Sunday. It's addicting.

My grandma is in the early stages of dimentia and it's depressing to visit her. She's not the same woman I grew up knowing and I don't know how to deal. So I don't talk to her. I feel horrible about it. But it scares me to start a conversation with her only to see how old and slow she's getting. God, I'm so selfish.

I went to school with my awesome friend, Erin, today. To UCLA, my all-time favorite school. It pissed me off to sit in class and listen to the stupid 18-year old football players that could give a shit about what the teacher was talking about. It was so rude. I wanted to turn around and tell them that they were being rude. Or I wanted the teacher to kick them out. But she didn't. Did I act like that when I started college? Am I getting old?

I bought the new Jason Mraz CD on iTunes and I freakin love it. So good

I have my 4th day off tomorrow. Four-day weekends rule.