NaBloPoMo 2010

Okay, fine, I’m in.

I gave in to the peer pressure.

No, I’m not joining NaNoWriMo…all my reasons laid out in this post are still very much present, and I just can’t do it.

But…it turns out, I appear to have gotten a little bit of my Blogging MoJo back…so, since I’ve written a blog post every day this month so far already…I’m joining NaBloPoMo, which for those of you who don’t know what it is, it’s National Blog Posting Month. I am going to post a new blog entry every day during the month of November.

Considering that for the last 6 months or so (okay fine, the last 2 years or so) I’ve been averaging about 4 posts PER MONTH…this should be a challenge.

But hey, I’m always up for a challenge, and I really would like to get this blog “breathing” again and out of the coma it’s been living in.

So, I’m off…NaBloPoMoing it up.

There won’t be a “theme” to the posts. There won’t be any set format or expectations. Some blog posts will be long and wordy. Others will be short and possibly full of pictures. Some will be sarcastic or funny. Others will be deep and emotional. Some will have pop culture themes, others may very well be about my faith journey…we shall see…

But I will post every day this month…so stay tuned. Oh, and if you're also doing NaBloPoMo, check out my page here, let's be friends.

Counting Down

It’s November. Wait, what? Say that again?

It’s November.

As in…the second to last month of 2010.

Wait, hold on…2010?

Didn’t we just have that whole hullaballoo about Y2K?

Wasn’t that like…last year?

Wasn’t I just sitting around with my two cousins discussing how old we were going to be at the turn of the new millennium, thinking “Oh My Gosh, I’m going to be 25? That’s so old!”.

And now, it’s 10 years later, and I’m 35 and 2011 is a mere two months away.

When did all of this happen? And how did all of this happen?

Stop the world, I wanna get off!

No, wait…deep breaths…deep breaths…exhale…

Okay, okay, I can do this.

November. Time for the countdowns to being.

And there are so many countdowns for me.

For starters, I work a youth retreat every Thanksgiving weekend, and there is A LOT of prep work involved with that. The countdown to the retreat has begun.

Then, there is, of course, the countdown to Thanksgiving.

Which, very quickly gives way to the countdown to Christmas (GULP).

Followed closely by the countdown to the end of the year and 2011.

I’m not ready. I’m not counting down to anything. I’m going to savor each and every day.

So there!

All The Boys - Run That By Me Again?

A few weeks ago I told you about my potential “Running date”.

I’ve been asked for an update on how it all turned out, and well, my dear readers, ask and ye shall receive…

Unfortunately there isn’t a whole lot to report, but what there is to report, is good.

The “date”:

We met up on a Saturday afternoon, and greeted each other like old friends, hugs and all.

It had been 17 years since we’d last seen each other, but we picked up in conversation as if no time had passed, easy, comfortable, normal.

Our run was about an hour long, during which we covered the span of our lives in the last nearly two decades. After our run, we sat and chatted for another hour, discussing everything else under the sun.

I learned, in those two hours, that he still is the same nice guy I remembered him being back then. I learned that we have a lot in common, and a lot of the same interests in life. I learned he’s been married, and divorced, but has no kids. He is also mature, has a level head on his shoulders, and appears to be mostly “undamaged” by his past relationships. If you’ve read any of my other “All The Boys” posts, you know this is major to me, because I tend to date all the “damaged” boys.

There were moments when he’d say something and I would think to myself “wow, guys like you still exist?” Refreshing.

We talked about running together again, or more specifically, he told me that if I was running again the following Saturday, to let him know and he would definitely join me. We also talked about working out together in the winter in the gym, once the weather got too cold out for running. Once again, he suggested we do so. Plans for the future…bonus, right?

It was a lovely way to spend an afternoon, and I walked away with tentative plans for a run the following Saturday and a smile on my face.

I also walked away completely unsure if this was something with romantic potential or just “old friends catching up” and a new workout buddy.

Such as it is, in all honesty, I walked away with a crush. But I also walked away content in the knowledge that I’d reconnected with a great old friend, and would be perfectly happy if it went the way of “just a new work out buddy”. Truthfully.

This past Saturday was to be our follow up date, and we did, in fact, make plans to go run together again in the afternoon. However, about an hour before our run, he called and bailed on me.

He had a legitimate enough reason, and didn’t want me to miss my run because he was running late and unsure if he’d make it at all. Told me to go on without him, and if he could make it on time, he’d let me know. If not, he suggested perhaps running together the following day. I let him know the following day would probably not work for me, I had plans, but okay, to let me know about that afternoon or maybe we could go in the morning on Sunday.

He didn’t make it. I went running solo anyway, and had a great run.

Although disappointed, I was relieved as well, because now, officially, the ball was in his court. If he is interested, he’ll have to follow up. The stress if off me.

I figured perhaps I’d hear from him on Sunday, perhaps I’d hear from him this week, perhaps I’d never hear from him again, perhaps I’d hear from him next month. Who knew?

I’m not one to spend too much time stressing over guys, so I decided to just let it unfold however it would, and go on with my life as I have been.

He texted me Saturday night, asked me how my run was.

This was unexpected, and made me slightly giddy. Because a guy looking for “just a new workout buddy” wouldn’t text me at 11:30 on a Saturday night.

It was a short conversation, and as of right now, we still don’t have other plans, but the ball is still officially in his court, and I’m not stressing about it.

And also, I think he likes me.

Just sayin'. ;-)

The Bright Side

I’m joining MamaKat this week in her “writing prompts” post, and answering this question:

Write about how you stay positive about something that sometimes brings you down.

I’ll tell you right off the bat that it is my mission in life to be a positive person. I can’t stand debbie downers with all their “woe is me” negativity. I have ZERO patience for that kind of attitude.

Life is, without question, difficult. We are faced daily with bad news and scary trials and tribulations. So, yes, I understand how easy it is to get caught up in the negative and run with it. But, why would you choose to do so? How can that possibly be the way you choose to live your life? How can that be helpful?

I don’t get it, and I won’t do it.

Because the truth is that life is also beautiful. Full of amazing experiences, and incredible people and the most awe inspiring blessings. You just have to choose to notice them, appreciate them, and revel in them.

So, I? I choose to be positive.

But, even someone like me can have days when it just seems like it’s not worth it to bother faking that smile. There are days when yes, I too succumb to the darkness.

Fortunately for me, it never lasts for too long, because wallowing in self-pity is just exhausting, and I don’t have enough energy to be negative all the time.

And before you start thinking that this must all be because I have it easy, my life MUST be so much better than everyone else’s if I can keep this outlook on life, let me set you straight…

I mean, my life is pretty awesome (laughing here), but it is far from easy and stress free, and happy all the time. It is awesome because I have chosen to make it so, to see it that way.

For example, I am single. I am 35 years old, single, living on my own, with no kids and no prospects for a husband. In fact, I have BARELY dated in the last 10 years. BARELY.

So, take that, and realize it could go one of two ways.

I could chose the path that so many women, and quite a few of my close friends, have chosen, and be miserable. I could cry about being lonely, I could pine the hours away waiting for my Prince Charming to come along, I could make it my life’s mission to find my husband and focus ALL MY ENERGY on going through Mr. Wrong after Mr. OH SO WRONG before finally, hopefully, landing Mr. Right. And then be even more miserable when it turns out he was Mr. OH NO You Didn’t after all.

I could stay home on Friday nights, cuddling with my two cats, feeling sorry for myself about the sad state of affairs I am in.

I could feel like life is passing me by, and someone forgot to stop and pick me up along the way.

I could do that.

Or I could choose the other path. I could LIVE. I could take advantage of my lack of “partner” in life, and enjoy making all my own plans. I could enjoy having a variety of friends from all walks of life, living in all different parts of the world, and revel in my ability to hop on a plane and jet off to visit them at a moment’s notice without having to coordinate schedules with someone else.

I could spend the money I’m not spending on Valentine’s, Birthday, Christmas gifts and buy myself a nice collection of shoes, all the techy toys a tech geek girl like me could dream of, and memories to last a lifetime from all the trips I’ve taken in the last 10 years.

I could enjoy playing with my friends’ kids, and then send them home to mommy and daddy after I’ve spiked them up on sugar and loud toys. Being the coolest “auntie” of all.

I could stay home on Friday nights, cuddling with my two cats, enjoying the peace and quiet, and the liberty to wear my rattiest pjs, hair all disheveled, in the comfort of my own home, which I purchased with my own money, all by my strong independent self.

I love my life. Don’t get me wrong, I too suffer from moments of loneliness and yes, I really do want to meet Mr. Right and have that lasting, loving, wonderful relationship full of conflict and passion and reality that I do honestly believe I’m made for.

But in the meantime, I choose the “I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar” path…

Except, you know, when my phone rings and it just happens to be my most recent crush…then I turn into a giggly teenage girl.

What? We can’t all be perfect. ;-)

Writer’s Note: If you are new to my blog, please note that this post was written in my usual sarcastic and silly tone of voice. If you take me too seriously, well…just don’t.

Green Eyed Monster

I’m jealous.

There, I said it.

Jealousy: feeling bitter and unhappy because of another's advantages, possessions, or luck

Or perhaps, that’s not really the right word.

Is envious better?

Envy: the resentful or unhappy feeling of wanting somebody else's success, good fortune, qualities, or possessions

I don’t know…I don’t much like that one either…

They seem so negative, I mean BITTER? UNHAPPY? RESENTFUL? I don’t really feel that way. That makes it sound as though I’m hateful and angry at others for what they have…this isn’t true.

Perhaps I should explain myself here.

This isn’t really about others, it’s about me. It has everything to do with my lack of confidence.

See, it all started with a twitpic. Or actually, a series of them.

If you are unfamiliar with what a twitpic is, it is exactly what it sounds like, it is when someone posts a picture on Twitter.

This particular series of twitpics were self portraits one of my Twitter buddies posted of themselves. Making silly expressions for the camera. They were adorable pictures, which made me smile. She is adorable, and the pictures were sweet, and fun, and they did not in any way bring up any feelings of bitterness or resentment or unhappiness in me.

But they made me think.

Because I wish I could do that. I wish I felt comfortable enough with myself to post self-portraits of myself. But I do not.

Sure, every now and again I’ll post a picture of me. And my profile pictures are also of myself.

But those are chosen carefully, examined before hand and given the “meh” stamp of approval. As in “meh, I guess I look okay enough to let the public see this one”.

But candids? Goofy self-portraits? Close-ups? Pictures taken by a webcam? NEVER THOSE.

In fact, I have never, not once, used the webcam on my laptop.

I’m far too self-conscious to do that.

And that’s where the jealousy or envy comes in. But it is not an ugly thing, it is simply that I wish to grow to a point where I can get past these insecurities.

So I’d like to call it a green-eyed baby monster, eager to grow and learn, not an evil, hiding under your bed, wanting to destroy kind of monster…

Can we go with that?