You’re a Jerk (I Know).

I’m coming back. I swear. It’s just sometimes life happens and you have to roll with it.

Kicking Butt and Taking Names

“I’m kicking butt, taking names and looking fab doing it!” – CCB’s 2010 mantra

Crap.  I guess since D-Magic shared her 9 in ’09 results I have to share mine.  She totes beat me to the punch.  Doing a 9 in ’09 was great.  I had some really tangible goals that I was able to strive for and reach.  And, it made me more confident than ever about all the great things I just KNOW are going to happen in 2010.  As I’ve been saying for the last longest (OK like past month) 2010 is going to be my year . . . the first of several years that I’ll be declaring as my year.  It just is.  I’ll see to it.  And, I’ll be kicking butt and taking names.  All the while looking fabulous!  And, in some ways, I kicked butt in ’09.  Let’s have a look, shall we?

1. Buy a Louis Vuitton bag by saving enough money for it (that means it can’t be purchased with my annual bonus, incentive compensation, tax return, lottery winnings, etc. Just good old-fashioned saving)

Yeah – so, there is no Louis V in my closet.  There is a fabulous Gucci bag (with an equally fabulous price tag) but I didn’t have to buy that.  And no, I didn’t have a sponsor buy it for me either.  Maybe in 2010 I’ll pony up the cash.  Although – let’s be real, we all know I’ll be saving for some fabulous vacay or something or other!

2. Take my GMAT and apply for business school by the 2nd round for all schools I’m applying to (I do have a scoring goal, but some things are sacred).

This goal got amended because I took a new position at my company.  However, it’s on the 2010 goals.  Actually, now that I think about it – I’m not sure we ever replaced it, lol.  It’s OK though.  I’ve bought a new book and cracked it open.  And I’m going to go ahead and sign-up for a date so I can’t make any more excuses.

3. Lose another 40 lbs.

Not 40, but down a solid 15 and stepping my game back up.  I should get extra points for doing 5:40 am workouts twice a week.

4. Blog at least 2 times a week

Some weeks were better than others, but I was mostly aiming for consistency.  I’d say, overall, I was pretty consistent. 

5. Work-out 60 minutes a day, 4 days a week

I did pretty good – except for the two week period that surrounded my brother’s wedding and my vacation.  Hey, I was on vacation!  And, for two weeks around Thanksgiving.  Hey, it was Thanksgiving!

6. Go on 12 dates (that’s 1 per month); by 12 dates, I mean with 12 different guys – eek!

I hit 10 of my 12 goal.  That’s pretty darn good.  Especially because that was with 10 different guys.  And it doesn’t count repeat dates.  Yes, some guys made it past one.  And two.  And a couple made it past three.  Unfortunately, I don’t want to be bothered with any now.  On to the 2010 boys!  Wait, that’s a lie . . . HMCA is my buddy.  We chat often, lol.

7. Take an enrichment course

I took an enrichment course for the Endowment Fund.  I also did some training through my job.  Mission accomplished.

8. Do one thing each month that is totally out of my norm

I’d say that I probably did something each month that was out of the norm.  I won’t go through all of them (mostly because I can’t remember them in order).  However, highlights include:

• Going to a Lock and Key party
• Going on dates with two different men who were shorter than me . . . both of whom got to be around for a bit
• Taking a stab at online dating
• Traveling to the Cayman Islands and leaving with a dirty little secret
• Enjoying a plethora of new and exotic foods
• Going to the movies, dinner and taking a road trip – ALONE!
• Asking a guy out

So yeah – mission demolished!

9. Read from the Bible everyday

I did really well with this.  There were some days where I slacked, but overall, I’d say that was accomplished.  This year – maybe I’ll do one of those “read the entire Bible” in a year things.  Who knows!

So kids – what did you accomplish in 2009?  And what are you going to shoot for in 2010?  Don’t worry – I’ll come up with some new goals for the new year (maybe decade) and share them with you!

Signed,
Butt Kickin’ Barbie

Out with the Old, In with the New!

Around here, we’re going to make this little survey an annual event.  OK kids?! Ready.  Here it go!

Where did you bring in 2009?
At my church in Ohio.  Then, made an appearance to an undisclosed location afterwards.

What was your status by Valentines Day?
I was single.  And it was great.  I spent Valentine’s Day with one of the most important men in my life. . . . my nephew.

Were you in school anytime this year?
Negative.

Did you have to go to the hospital?
Once.  Had a nasty infection.  So. Not. Fun. 

Did you have any encounters with the police?
Thankfully, no, I didn’t.

Where did you go on vacation?
This year it was a fabulous trip with the girls to the Cayman Islands.  Also took a few long weekends to go see the folks in VA.  Headed up to Rochester (or Rottenchester as Lil’ Tree calls it) to spend time with old friends.  And, otherwise just used my vacay time here and there.

What did you purchase that was over 1000?
I can’t think of anything . . . that makes me very happy.

Did you know anybody who got married?
Yes – most significantly, my brother.

Did you know anybody who passed away?
Yes, unfortunately.

Did you move anywhere?
Nope.  Well, up the corporate ladder.

What sporting events did you attend?
You know me, baseball games, basketball games.  Maybe this year I’ll hit up a soccer game.

What concerts/shows did you go to?
None.  That is pathetic.

Describe your birthday:
Cool – pretty low key . . . which is fine by me.  Spent time with my mom, S-I-L, brother and nephew.  And then my girls.

What has been your favorite moment?
Meeting my nephew for the first time.  Hands down.

Any new additions to your family?
Trey dropped on January 24!  No we’re waiting for his little sister.

What was your best month?
December.  Funny, since I hate it so much.

Who has been your best drinking buddy?
I won’t incriminate them.  But, any time a night ends with either serious karaoke or a fierce case of dancing to footloose you know fun was had by all.

Made new friends?
Yes.  My fave newbie is my Gulf Region buddy.  I heart him.

Favorite night out?
Lots. 

Other than home, where did you spend most of your time?
Still in my car, lol.  I drive too damn much.

Be honest – did you watch American Idol?
Just enough to know that I enjoyed watching that little boy wear women’s clothes and make-up.

Change your hairstyle?
Yeah – I’m growing it.

Have any car accidents?
Nope.

How old did you turn this year?
26.

Do you have a New Years resolution?
Hate those.

Do anything embarrassing?
Yeah right, like I’d tell you.

Buy anything new from eBay?
No.

Get married or divorced?
Nope.

Been snowboarding?
No, it’s still on my list.

Did you get sick this year?
Unfortch.

Are you happy to see 2009 go?
Yes – 2010 is my year!

Been naughty or nice?
Both

Newcomer award: Coolest new friend?
Gulf Region Buddy (I’m working out a nickname).  I heart him. 

High point of the year?
January and December.

Low point of the year?
November . . . right around the 21st.

Best holiday?
Christmas – per usual.

Movie for 2008?
I’m a geek, but I lurve Harry Potter.

Best relationship?
Barack and Michelle.

Best decision made this year?
I made it at the end of 2008 but it didn’t take effect until 2009 . . . to take the new job and switch teams.

What are your plans for next year?
To keep running sh*t and terrorize the neighborhood!

Most stupid idea when drunk?
There is a matter of a night of drunk texts to a certain W.D.C.

Sowing Bountifully

“Just remember, in the midst of your doubt / the favor of God can turn things around / God’s favor is more precious than life.” – Donald Lawrence and the Tri-City Singers, “God’s Favor”

 

MerDer got married on a post-it note.   And yesterday, a post-it answered my prayers. 

I haven’t written in a bit because I wanted to do a Christmas post.  And, well, everything I’d come up with had either been done before or was corny.  Until yesterday, when I got the post it note.  It reminded me that God hears our prayers.  I mean, I know He hears our prayers, but I needed a reminder.  Not a reminder that He hears the prayers we ask out loud or the ones we ask others to send up for us.

I’m talking about the prayers that live in the inner most depths of your soul.  The prayers that live way deep down inside of you.   The kind that you keep to yourself and only think about during your daily devotional and prayer time because you want it so badly that you’re scared to utter it into the atmosphere.  Yeah – He answers those prayers. 

Mine was simple really.  I prayed it only once, officially, but thought about it daily. A few months ago my pastor preached a sermon about sowing and reaping.  And not in the “damn you to hell” sense.  She spoke about that sometimes to get what you want (reap) you have to give what you want (sow).  For example, if you’re looking to reap love then sow love.  Want to reap money? Sow money.  You get the idea.  That message stuck with me.  And so, without every actually uttering it (except that once) I silently prayed that God would put me in a position to sow the very thing that I wished so desperately to reap.  And, I tried my best to be an obedient “sower.” 

The prayer was not coming from a selfish place.  But more of a place with the knowledge that if I was in a position to sow that very thing I wanted, everything else would fall into place.  And yesterday, that happened.  On a post-it note. 

What does this have to do with Christmas?  Well, nothing and everything all at once.  Christmas is a time to believe in wishes and dreams and miracles – no matter how big and small.  It’s a time when the unreal becomes reality.  Where the least among us become the greatest.  And, it’s a time when God answers those mere utterances that we send to Him.  In the form of a gift for a child with no toys.  A meal for a person with no food.  A hug for a person with no family.  A kiss.  A smile.  A wink.  Or, a post-it note.

When I got my post-it note yesterday, the giver reminded me to “pay it forward” because to whom much is given much is required.  And, I vowed that I would pay it forward.  That I would sow the very thing that I wished desperately to reap.  Because, I could be all the Christmas miracle that someone needs.  Little old me.  By doing one nice thing.  Making one nice gesture.  Smiling at the right time.  Paying it forward.

So, this Christmas season I ask you what is the thing that you so desperately wish to reap?  That thing that you wouldn’t actually dare to say out loud?  Yes, that thing.  Sow it.  As much or as little as you can.  Sow it.  Be obedient and sow it.  Because that which you sow, you shall also reap. 

And my Christmas wish is for you to reap every good and wonderful thing that is in store for you.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

I. Just. Can’t.

“’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord.  ‘Plans to proper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.’” – Jeremiah 29:11

When the end of the year comes I absolutely love it.  I love, love, love Christmas.  The Nutcracker Suite is on repeat on my iPod, I light up my Christmas tree every night (it’s been up since Thanksgiving) and my dining room table suddenly looks like Santa’s workshop has taken over.  It really is the most wonderful time of the year. 

But at the end of the year I always get a bit introspective as well.  Remember last year when I went all “have I been starter wifed?” on ya’ll?  Right, so this year, it’s the same thing.  A little time in my head before I head to DC for New Years and party it up in style.  Last year, I declared I’d be loving on myself more in 2009.  And, I think I did.  I really did just try to work on me, encourage myself and get through the tough times – on my own strength and power.  There are even situations that even my closest friends don’t know about (I’ll be opening up about those more in the future – on the blog and in life – but suffice it to say that there were some very, very deep things that nobody but me and the people involved know about).  It’s not that I haven’t wanted to share those things – I’ve just become much, much more guarded in who I share what information with.  And, actually, it was the evaluation of who I tell what to and when that led me to this blog post.

About what I just can’t do anymore.  On the eve of 2010 (which – I’ve declared as my year) there are things that I’m no longer going to take.  Certain behaviors.  Certain attitudes.  I’m simply not dealing with them anymore.  I’m 26 (almost 27 – and I realize declaring that makes me sound 12, almost 13) and quite frankly I don’t have to deal with them anymore.  As the world famous poem “Invictus” says, “I am the master of my fate” and “the captain of my soul.”  So I’m taking responsibility for that.  I’m taking responsibility for my feelings, how I react to situations, how I respond to people and the behaviors that will and won’t be tolerated.  And, well, since I’m captain you’ll have to follow the rules or find a new ship.

Sorry.  That’s how I feel about 2010.  I’m goin’ in (“like a Lil Wayne and Drake song”).

So what exactly does it mean for you?  Truthfully, probably nothing.  This is more about me (I know, incredibly selfish at the most unselfish time of year).  Sometimes I have to put in writing what I’m going to do (or not do) in order to make it happen.  You guys are just here to police me. To make the behavior stick.  And, on the odd chance that you do something that I’m no longer tolerating – it doesn’t matter.  I’m not going to ask you to change your behavior or stop doing what you do.  I’m just no longer going to entertain it.  Do with the information what you will.

I. Just. Can’t . . .

1. Deal with selfish friends.  I’m over it.  It’s not cute.  It’s not entertaining.  It’s annoying and stressful.  It was annoying when you were a kid, but you dealt with it.  Mostly because the selfishness was minor – like, I’ll play with my best Barbie and you play with the second best Barbie.  But we’re grown-ups now.  I can buy my own damn Barbies.  So gone are the days when you get to put me in awkward, stressful, unreasonable situations and get away with it.  You don’t get to inconvenience me because it’s convenient for you.  It’s not happening.  Besides, that’s not a friendship anyway.  And when you do it, I’m calling you on it.  And it won’t be nice.  Because, with people like you, nice doesn’t work.  Nice gets laughed off.  And then the same thing happens again.  So maybe, if I call you on your sh*t you’ll stop doing it.  Or, you’ll stop calling me.  Either way – I win.
2. Take the bullsh*t.  This is a very special message.  Meant mainly for one (or two) people in particular.  I can’t take the big game that you talk.  Because, well, it’s all talk.  And more talk.  You talk a lot.  But you don’t back it up.  You might ask others to back it up.  But you can’t back it up.    And I’m tired of it.  So I’m not taking it anymore.  And I’m no longer covering for you.  Good luck with that.
3. Work seven days a week.  I need a break.  I need time off.  Time to recuperate and regroup.  This one is my own fault.  I try to convenience the people I work for to the point that it inconveniences me.  So, I’m not doing it.  I won’t fully be on a new schedule until the summer.  But, come June there will be a change in schedule.  And it will be permanent.  I’m tired.  I’ve earned a break.  And I won’t be made to feel bad for taking it. 
4. Get any more dating advice from people who don’t date and get love advice from people who don’t love. Harsh – I know.  But think about it – it’s like getting parenting advice from me!  I don’t know jack about raising kids.  That is a whole new level of responsibility that I have no knowledge of.  It’s a harsh reality, but it’s true.  If you aren’t dating (casually, seriously, at all) then how are you going to help me date?  If you aren’t actively meeting people (through going out, speed dating, online, whatever) how, exactly can you help?  I don’t mean for this to sound harsh (but it’s going to) – but I’m just going to be much, much more selective in who I solicit dating and love advice from.  I’m selective about who I solicit religious guidance from and shoe advice, so my dating life really should be no different.  All you coupled up and actively dating buddies of mine – expect for me to pick your brain quite a bit more.  Everyone else, please, don’t be offended if I don’t come to you for dating advice anymore.  It’s not personal.  It’s a business decision.   
5. Leave things on a bad note.  I know that this sounded like a rant disguised as a blog post.  But it’s really not.  I’m just cleaning out my closet.  As I get older and smarter and more experienced I am just realizing that in order to live the kind of life that I want to live, I can’t have all of this stuff clouding me.  I truly, truly believe that what I think about I bring about.  And I’m trying to bring positivity, love, prosperity and peace into my life.  And, I need to surround myself with like-minded individuals (in that sense – although ya’ll know I’m happy to get a little debate going!).  Everybody is not meant to journey with me through my life.  And one way or another, I’ve got to let the people go who aren’t not meant to come with me towards my destiny. 

I just can’t forget that I’m fearfully and wonderfully made . . .

You know, I’ve got Jeremiah 29:11 tattooed on my back.  “’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord.  ‘Plans to proper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.’”  It’s time I started acting like it.

Signed,
Country Club Barbie

Winter Song

 

“This is my winter song / December never felt so long / ‘Cause you’re not where you belong / Inside my arms.” – Sara Bareilles & Ingrid Michaelson, “Winter Song”

There’s really only one time of year when I find myself really and truly hating Voldy.

Winter. 

Well, winter and when I find myself on a particularly bad date.  But really just the winter.  November and December specifically.  It still stings.  Eighteen and a half months later I thought it wouldn’t sting.  And then November 21 hits and it stings with a freshness that I’ve only ever felt the day we officially broke up.  And so I find myself sitting home, after giving yet another guy one chance too many, listening to “Winter Song,” wishing that I could concentrate on any part of the song other than where she reiterates just how long December feels or where she keeps asking me if love is alive.  By all my calculations, no, it’s not.  And no, I don’t really believe that, I’m just having a moment.  I can’t help but get a bit dark and twisty listening to this song.

I can’t help but feel a bit dark and twisty because, well the song just hits a little close to home.  It always has; and not because the first time I heard it was during an especially sad scene during Grey’s Anatomy.  It’s just one of those songs that moves you, gets you thinking and cuts your heart into a million pieces all at the same time.  Good music does that to you. 

And winter is lonely.  And cold.  And December really is a long month.  Don’t get me wrong, I love, love, love the holidays (don’t worry you’ll be getting your requisite holiday post soon).  But, for some reason, December always feels much longer than say, March.  And, it feels just a tad longer when you’re wandering through the month by yourself wondering “is love alive?”  So, really it’s not that far of a stretch for you to be curled up in your most comfy sweats, fleece socks, and wrapped in a blanket listening to “Winter Song” on repeat, hating Voldy and pouring out your feelings on your blog.  At least it’s not a stretch for me. 

So here we are kids.  Hating Voldy and wondering if love is alive.  Side note: Has life really become this?   

And, isn’t like a songwriter to write something to make you think?  Pretty much as soon as I’d settled into my bitter, moody self I caught a different part of the song.  The part where she says “They say that things cannot grow and need the winter snow . . . I still believe in summer days / the seasons always change and life will find a way.” 

I want to feel bitter – but it’s hard to when she puts a positive spin on a dark and twisty song.  I want to feel more bitter, but the moment has passed.

(Which, by the way sucks – when you totally switch directions mid-post – it’s the worst!)  But, well, I’m listening to the song and hearing a different message.  Yes, she’s clearly heart-broken and devastated and whatever other feelings Voldy’s counterparts leave us girls feeling when they smash our little Barbie hearts.  But, I’m hearing something different.  After all, it’s pretty true that things can’t grow without the winter season.

So, maybe, winter feels extraordinarily long because I’ve got some extraordinary growing to do.  Maybe, right now, it’s just a winter season I’m experiencing.  Which means that eventually it’ll be over.  It’s a possibility, because, well, seasons change.  There’s a time to laugh.  A time to cry.  The Beatles even said so – and if they said it then it must be true. ** So, maybe this is just my winter season – my winter song so to speak.  And, maybe for a little while longer I’ll be feeling this December. 

But I do believe in summer days.  And that seasons will change and that life (and I) will find our way.  So, with one final listen to the song – I’m off to start finding my way. 

And maybe Nemo.

So dear readers, what do you think?  Is this just a “winter season?”  Do you guys feel this way during the winter?  How’d you get past it?  You know the drill.

Signed,
Believing in Summer Days Barbie

** So apparently The Beatles did not sing the song, The Byrds did.  However, I think that saying The Beatles said it gives way more credibility because, well, they’re The Beatles.  So, wrong as it may be, my assertion still stands.  If The Beatles said it, it has to be true!  And thanks to the “little byrdie” who pointed it out to me

Hate to Break it to You

So I’ve been dating quite a bit over the last year and a half.  In my Nine in ’09 quest to date at least 12 different guys I’m two guys away from reaching my goal.  That’s not bad considering that I took two self-imposed dating hiatus’ and that a few guys made it past my three date mark.  All in all, I’d say that my experiment in mating has been mildly successful.  And only mildly because, well, I haven’t found a mate

What I have found are a bunch of goons, bafoons and dopes who think they are smooth and sexy with swagger on a hundred thousand trillion.  While they may think that, I beg to differ.  In fact, I’m not sure their swag registers on the swag-o-meter at all.  And, although their swag left much to be desired, the sound bites that I heard were entertaining and well worth the bad dates, boring phone conversations and marriage proposals I endured. 

Fellas, take heed of what I’m about to share with you.  If you’ve ever used any of the following lines on a girl, well, I hate to break it to you but you aren’t getting any.  And by “any” I mean anything.  No second date, no sex in the champagne room and certainly no wifey!  Sorry, hate to break it to you!

WARNING: Reading the following may lower your IQ several points and you may feel dumber for having read them.  Imagine how dumb I feel after having listened to them.

Stoopid Boy: Do you think I’m sexy? You like what you see? I’m sexy. You like what you see don’t you.
CCB: No I don’t.
Stoopid Boy: Close your eyes, then tell me what you think.

Setting: One late November afternoon . . .
Mr. Sunday: Well, it’ll be tougher to hang out.  I have a girl now.
CCB: :::choking::: What? Really? For how long?
Mr. Sunday: Since September.
CCB: Oh, well we can’t hook up anymore.  I’m not into being a mistress.  That’s not my M.O.
Mr. Sunday: Why not?  You don’t live in the city. You live out of town.  So it doesn’t count.
CCB: I live 20 minutes away.

Stoopider Boy: You wear that to work?  You get dressed up for work?  I never dated a girl who got dressed up for work.  Wow.

Stoopidest Boy: How old are you?
CCB: 26.
Stoopidest Boy: Do you have kids?
CCB: No.
Stoopidest Boy: Neither do I.  Marry me.

Stoopid Boy (yes, the same one): I’m different from any guy you’ve ever dated.
CCB: How?
Stoopid Boy: I’m a thug.
CCB: And that makes you different because????
Stoopid Boy: I went to college.
CCB: Real thugs don’t go to college.
Stoopid Boy: I know.  But you did, so I thought it sounded good.

So, my friends, did you feel your IQ drop?  Can you believe these things were actually said to me?  What are some of the worst lines you’ve ever heard.  Can’t wait to hear!

Signed,
Looks Like I Broke it to Ya Barbie

I’m a sucker . . .

. . . for a New York accent. I let him un-lose my phone number. And he’s taking me to dinner to apologize.

. . . I’m such a sucker . . .

Schoolyard Shenanigans

“Now it’s gone to deep/You wake me in my sleep/My dreams become nightmares/’Cause you’re ringing in my ears” – No Doubt, “Spiderwebs”

Jay-Z once said that 30 is the new 20 (maybe in not such proper English, but he said it!).  Lately, I’ve been feeling like 28 is the new 12.  Or 10. 

 

Childish behavior is suddenly all the rage.  And not that cute sh*t either.  Childish behavior as in full out temper tantrums.  Yes.  Grown men are throwing temper tantrums.  Side note: Diddy, please bring back the “No Bitchassness” t-shirts.  Some men seem to have forgotten there’s a ban.  And I’m not talking little temper tantrums.  I’m talking whining, yelling, screaming, pretty sure they’re stomping around temper tantrums.  Straight “terrible twos” style. 

I am unmoved.

I’ve never been moved by whining and the such.  In fact, a temper tantrum is a surefire way to get me to do exactly the opposite of whatever it is you want me to do so badly.  It may be because I’m the oldest child.  Or because my parents are unmoved by such shenanigans.  Irregardless (yeah, I said it) it doesn’t move me.  It doesn’t touch my soul or tug on my heart strings.  It just annoys me.  Point blank.  Period.  Dot.

Someone should give these men out here the memo. 

Now, we all know that I’m a sucker for certain characteristics in a man.  I’m a sucker for men of a certain fraternity.  Broad shoulders.  Cocky attitudes.  And, New York accents.  A particular New Yorker has been keeping my attention lately.  Another side note: No, not THAT New Yorker if anybody reading this knows who I’m talking about.  So anyway, this New Yorker (who doesn’t get a nickname because, well, he throws tantrums) has an attitude in the WORST way – which of course means I love it!  Really straight-forward, to the point, cocky and sexy all rolled into one.  I enjoy hanging out with him.  But, he doesn’t take it very well when I have other plans.  And, well, lately, I’ve had plans.  Lots of them.  I’m making a more conscious effort to do the things that I want to do.  And to NOT do the things that I don’t want to do.  And really, that’s the more important thing here. 

So, unfortunately for him – I have plans.  And when I didn’t have plans I didn’t want new ones.  So this past weekend when he asked if I wanted to get together on Sunday I said “no.”  He asked “why not?”  I said, “because I don’t feel like it.”  Which I didn’t.  I wanted to stay in and mind my own damn business.  There is no rule that says I have to be around people twenty-four hours a day seven days a week.  And if there were a rule that said that it’d be stupid.  Quite frankly, I enjoy my solitude. 

He, on the other hand, does not enjoy my solitude.  After hanging up on me (which, what 28 year old does that?  Really?).  He proceeded to text me.  I ignored them.  Then he called me . . . like five times in a row.  Um what?  The last time he left a voicemail with enough profanity to make the drunkest of sailors blush. 

How old are you again?  What year is it?  Has this approach been effective in the past?  Who exactly did you think you were talking to?  Is stoopid tattooed on my forehead? 

Do I look moved to you?  Oh right, you can’t see me.  Well, I’m unmoved by your temper tantrum.  And so I told him.  That is was ineffective, childish, and the ultimate turn off.  I then told him that, quite frankly, if this is the approach he takes when he doesn’t get his way then I am not interested in seeing him anymore.

Then I told him to lose my phone number.

Second guy this week.

So, what do you guys think?  Am I the only one who is encountering temper tantrums?  What’s up with that?  And why do grown ass men think they’ll work?  You know the drill . . .

Signed,
I’m Moved By A Lot of Things But Not That Barbie

Dark and Twisty

“Everyone thinks I’ll know what to say to her. I don’t know what to say to her. Dark and twisty Meredith. I’m not dark and twisty. And if I am, it’s because I live my life under a banner of avoidance. I avoid. I’m an avoider.” – Meredith Grey, “Grey’s Anatomy”

One thing (among the many) that I appreciate about my conversations with Mini Me is that it is always open, honest and direct communication between us.  Rarely (if ever, actually) have I ever felt like she was beating around the bush, hemming and hawing or not saying what it is she really wants to say.  I can’t speak to every aspect of her life, but in all my experiences I’ve found it to be this way.  Which is why I value her opinion so much.  I know I’m going to get the truth; not some version of it.  I do have friends who consistently deliver some version of the truth to me, and when I need that I go to them.  But when I want cold, hard facts (and I mean that in the nicest, most loving way possible) and honest feedback I’ve found myself, more than once, going to Mini Me first before anyone else. 

In fact, I was right there earlier today when I felt myself becoming increasingly frustrated with the dark and twisty nature of a friend.  I’m not frustrated with the dark and twistiness of it all (hey, I get that) – mostly I’m frustrated because I’m feeling the exact opposite of dark and twisty (light and straight?).  And the fact that I feel neither dark nor twisty makes me feel like my friend is not interested in being my friend when I’m not commiserating in the dark and twistiness of it all.  Follow me?

Of course, Mini Me got a long soliloquy about it all – but here’s the main point.  I’m not feeling dark and twisty and my friend is.  And I’m feeling like a bad friend for not feeling dark and twisty.  And, I’m probably feeling bad because the last time I wasn’t dark and twisty I was told I was a bad friend.  But, as Mini Me pointed out in her response to me, “Sometimes we’re left alone with our thoughts/feelings/difficulties so that we can figure ourselves out . . . [and] it’s ok for [people] to voice when [they’re] feeling crappy but it’s really not ok to put it on anyone else to lift [them] up.”

And that’s so true, isn’t it?  At a certain point it’s not fair for us to depend on our friends to pick us up out of our dark and twisty places.  It’s fair to ask them to be there for us and to reach out to them if we need help.  But at the end of the day, only we can change how we feel about a situation.  At the end of the day it falls on us to either “fall apart or rise to the challenge of pulling [ourselves] out of this sh*t storm.”  After all, my friends didn’t get me over Voldy.  I got me over Voldy.  They helped and they were there in moments of pain or weakness or especially trying days.  But, it was my conscious effort to get over it, move past it and learn from the experience that got me to where I am.  It was my choice to wake up each morning and put one foot in front of the other.  My choice to stop crying and start living.  To get better and not bitter.  They were there, but it was me that did it. 

I guess that’s what I wish for my dark twisty friend.  That this bout of dark and twistiness will bring about a change that has not come in all the other bouts of dark and twistiness.  That there will be some sort of realization that is reached that wasn’t there six weeks, six months or six years ago.  I just want them to know that they’re better than this.

And, while I won’t indulge the dark and twistiness, I will be there whenever they’re ready to emerge on a path to something better.

Signed,
I’m Just Not There Barbie