You’re Wearing White, Aren’t You?

You’re wearing white, aren’t you?

Dammit, Donna. You know the rules. Much like an awful ex, Labor Day is behind us.

I’m kidding. I care zero much about these things.

I spend my time on important matters, like anxiety and creating terrifying scenarios in my mind that will never take place.

Truthfully, I’ve been watching quite a few documentaries lately, listening to podcasts and going to the gym on a regular basis. What is this life? I promise not to start eating a high fiber cereal in the morning. However, I will keep singing the praises of Quinoa. Don’t try to stop me.

Oh shit, I just remembered that I’ve also started posting a “Weekly Menu” on the fridge.

Did I just grow up? Am I an adult now? Is it over? Because I would love to stop paying bills. That would be fantastic.

I won’t even go into the “meal prep” I did this week because you can’t even.

I did finish one of the five books I’d started so I’m feeling fairly accomplished. I’m determined to finish one of the other four before picking up a new one which is killing me because Jen Hatmaker’s new book came out last month and I have yet to even smell the pages. Days are hard.

I find myself mumbling, “Could you not?” more and more with each passing day. I’m already living in a perpetually unimpressed state of mind so…no, please don’t. It’s doesn’t matter what it is, just don’t. I’d rather not. I am far too busy creating a list of all the new Fall shows I’ll be watching.

And that is all I will be watching because the news is such a bummer. It’s all a bit too serious these days what with the Earth being destroyed by that “Mother Nature” bitch and our country being led by someone who is essentially a troll in a permanent state of “Brain Fog” and assaults my ear holes with his stupidity. It’s all stupid. I don’t accept.

Anyway, come over with me to the Petty Corner for a minute…

You know how some women forget to stay in their lane? They get a little adventurous and begin to slowly drift into yours, mistakenly thinking that you’re passive then you have draw an incredibly clear boundary. Of course you do. We’ve all experienced this at one point or another.

I’ve been tempted to remind a couple of them exactly who they’re dealing with, but I decided to draw that line and carry on knowing that Karma would handle them. Well, it was brought to my attention that Karma did in fact handle it and while I don’t endorse harming another individual, I can understand how that would come to pass.

Stay in your lane. There are plenty of available men for you to unleash your insanity on. Go to town, sister. Stop learning the hard way. Bless your heart.

Ok, out of the Petty Corner.

Ugh, I kinda miss it. It was cozy and catty there. I’m sure I’ll head back soon enough and might I add, I love that you can join me there. We are cut from the same mold, you and me.

We’re 90% Women Empowerment / “you go, girl!” and 10% “watch your step before I have to remind you who the fuck I am”. I like us, we’re lovely.

Moats and Hoes

I’ve been thinking deeply about something for a while now and I’ve come to a decision. It’s time to start making some moves to get what I want in life…

   
What I absolutely want is a house with a moat.

The first reason is safety. Nobody is getting anywhere near me unless I lower the drawbridge which I would only do if they had tasty treats or beer, obviously.

The second reason is that they’re super cool and this puts me one step closer to the Game of Thrones life I was intended to have and getting a dragon (which has always been my ultimate goal).

Lastly, I like to make an entrance and would love nothing more than to have that drawbridge lower and see my dogs come running to me with tails a waggin every day.

On the off chance that this dream does not come to fruition…I’ll just take a Southern inspired two story house with a wraparound porch, a walk in closet, lots of trees, a big yard, my dogs, a pig, a goat, an amazing circular library room complete with chaise lounge chairs and a full bar, one secret passage way, and a couple of mischievous, but friendly ghosts who would give Scooby Doo and the team a run for their money. Even though they never had any kind of authority whatsoever and were always out of their jurisdiction, I love them all the same and would welcome them and their mystery machine to investigate anything that seems hinky at my residence.

Well, I’m glad we had this talk.

Remember, I’ll always be here for you…unless you run out of snacks or beer or if you’re in a bad mood, smell unfavorably, don’t pronounce the first R in “library”, drag your feet when walking, keep your toenails too long for my liking, don’t know the words to at least one En Vogue song and/or squeeze the toothpaste from the center of the tube. Aside from that, you can count on me and I can confidently say with an 18% certainty that I would most likely lower the drawbridge for you.

Now, you’ve gotten all the way to the end and there’s been no mention of hoes. I don’t want you to leave disappointed so here you go… Every group of friends has that one girl (or guy) who’s not so fresh and a little sleazy. Think about it. If you can’t figure out who it is, it’s you.

Alright, sleep well!

Xo

Say Anything

Some days I think I  have my shit together and some days I seem to have lost my ability to count. I have somehow developed the nervous talking habit John Cusack had in the movie Say Anything which is, evidently, not as endearing on me.

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The following is an account of my lunch hour yesterday because I know you all care so deeply…

I spent a solid 60 seconds trying to remember if I put on underwear. As soon as I figured out that I wasn’t going commando, my thoughts shifted to my dogs. I made a mental note that I needed to get new name tag for my dog. He’s currently sporting the name tag of a dog I fostered last year because, hey, at least it has my phone number on it. This is probably causing him to have some kind of identity crisis and feel like he doesn’t matter as much as my other two dogs. Then, I’m like….dude, you’re worrying about the emotional state of a creature who has chased his own tail for 6 minutes straight. Chill.

I arrived at a gym nearby my work because in a moment of poor judgment I agreed to get a membership so as to join two of my coworkers for lunchtime cardio a few days a week. I know, but this is who I am now. As I’m discussing the deets of this torturous arrangement, the guy asked me what my fitness goals were. I paused and said, “To never check in on Facebook?” Clearly, he’s now going to take me about as seriously as I take myself.

I left and immediately started to scold myself. I was all, “Jesus, Mary & Joseph, can you just act like a freakin adult for 5 minutes?!”

About a minute later, I forgave myself for my juvenile ways and headed toward Panera because nothing starts off a new healthy lifestyle like a cup of Clam Chowder.

On my drive back to work I started eating the French Baguette they always give you. Let me be clear, there is no lady like way to eat a Baguette while driving. I looked like a character out of Game of Thrones who’s been on a long journey and has just gotten her hands on some nourishment. I kept eating it because, bread.

As I’m driving, I think….Have I heard from Pops lately? I try to recall if I’ve gotten any emails from him that day. Listen, if your Dad doesn’t email you weekly about an article that he found interesting, is he even you Dad?! I actually look forward to these emails because Pops is the best thing since chocolate and you know what, maybe I DO want to know how to properly store tomatoes in my kitchen so they maintain their fresh deliciousness!

I arrived back at the office and suddenly remember that at 7 years old, I thought becoming a Librarian would be the bestest thing ever because BOOKS…and I also had a slight obsession with wanting to scan barcodes. A grocery store checkout clerk was a close second to the coolest job a person could have. Whatta weird kid. Anyway, that’s a life long dream that will probably never see the light of day.

In a moment of rare silence, I think, am I the only one pretending to be an adult around here? Am I alone in feigning maturity all damn day?! Is the ridiculous train leaving the station with only me on board??

At that moment, the phone rang for the 73rd time and I shouted, “not it!” because I. Can’t. Even.

 

 

 

Emotional Intelligence

Yesterday, my psychologist told me that I’m very emotionally intelligent. Wow. Really? As evident by my last blog, I very much feel like a mess at times. Well, thanks. Guess I’m not crazy after all. I find her statement to be a compliment of the highest order because I truly feel that having high emotional intelligence is even more important than having a high Intelligence Quotient. Since this feels like an award, clearly I have a speech to make.

First, I’d like to thank my parents for having me and for raising me in an almost perfect way, but while making sure to give me just enough issues to fit in with society.

I actually read the book titled Emotional Intelligence years ago…

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so thanks, Daniel Goleman, for writing it.

I’d also like to thank the private, Christian school I attended from 1st through 8th grade for the incredible friendships I made and for making sure I will never want to have too much to do with organized religion. Speaking of…thanks for making me wear a skirt once a week on Chapel days and thanks to all the boys in Jr. High for standing under the stairs while us girls walked up to class thus giving me my first taste of sexual harassment.

Thank you to my Interpersonal Communication class in college for teaching me how to communicate with others effectively, no matter how stupid they are.

Thanks to my sense of humor for apparently keeping me fairly sane all these years. I don’t care how irreverent or offensive my humor is…FUNNY TRUMPS EVERYTHING.

I can’t forget to thank Florence and the Machine for the music and lyrics that got me through some dark times.

On that note, shout out to Lil Wayne. I can’t explain it, but he gets me.

Aaaaannnnddd it wouldn’t be a true acceptance speech if I didn’t thank God for everything. I’m not wearing 20 gold chains or winning an award for Best Rap Video, but I’ll thank God just the same. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s define emotional intelligence…

The ability to perceive, control and evaluate emotions.

I love that the definition says “and” not “or”. Having the ability to do ALL three of these things is a must. In fact, I would go one step further and add Communicate  in there….but I’m a talker so that’s just my preference.

The ability to perceive emotions means not just our own, but others’ emotions as well. This is tricky because we all view the world differently and take in information differently. Also, since we’re human, we have all been damaged in some way and these scars can change our view. I think of it like this…we all have experiences in life, some negative and some positive. Every experience adds a filter to our view of the world, ourselves and others. This is part of why everyone has a different “point of view”.

The world is not black and white. It is gray. I’m sure there are those that feel it is black and white, that there is always a right or wrong way. To those people, I say…try out a few therapy sessions, take the MBTI indicator test and learn a little about how different we all are and why there can never be just one way in life.

It goes without saying that those who cannot control their emotions are screwed and should seek help.

Evaluating our emotions is only possible if we are aware of our emotions. Awareness is so important because far too many people like to bury their heads in the sand and shove things under the rug instead of dealing with what they’re feeling. Guys, I know it’s a little scary, but excavating what you are feeling and processing it will be much less painful in the long run. I think communication actually falls under the evaluation part of this process. If you have any kind of relationships in life, you will have to be able to evaluate your emotions and effectively communicate what you are feeling to those that are important to you.

Everybody is going to have pain and deal with rejection at some point in life. It is how we deal with these issues that determines how emotionally healthy we will be. It is how we teach our children to deal with these issues that determines how emotionally healthy they will be.

Is it easier to pretend that everything in life is fine when it’s not? Sure, it’s easier…temporarily. I was a person that stayed in a bad situation for far too long for what I thought were the right reasons. Also because change is scary and saying goodbye is tough, but sometimes it is necessary.

Here is a quote from the next book I will be reading….

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The book this quote is from….

yhst-20550167876698_2167_10539471I’m excited to read this one. Yes, I’m aware that I am a nerd.

Look, if you’ve spent any kind of time with me, you know that I would love nothing more than to walk around with blow darts and a taser so as to temporarily incapacitate the stupid people of the world as I come into contact with them. I have been told this is illegal so I have refrained. However, should I ever win the lottery and have an endless amount of bail money at my disposal, I will move forward with this plan. In the meantime, it is clear that we all have to deal with morons so that is why I choose to read and educate myself on how best to interact with others.

Earlier I mentioned the MBTI indicator test. It’s basically a personality test(one that I have given to many people in my life). I find this stuff fascinating. There are 16 different personality types, here they are…

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Here’s the population breakdown….

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As you can see, we are all very different. Some of us just don’t mix well together, some of us just fit well together. No matter what though, we all have to deal with each other at some point. In a perfect world, people would all be emotionally healthy and treat each other with respect…but this is not a perfect world. I guess we can settle for, let’s all behave like adults and understand that we all see things differently.

Life is way too short to spend our days unhappy or living with regret. By the way, I’m an ENFP.