As I was describing my date to a friend, she said, “excuse me while I remove the mic from my face” and commenced to laugh very loud for an extended period of time.
I’m glad I’m not easily offended.
The first time I saw him, I thought, he’s not bad-looking, he has all of his teeth, he’s clean and is well-groomed. We talked and laughed for hours. Within the first hour he asked me to marry him. I told him I needed to meet his mother first. He called her on his cell phone. She and I chatted about the holidays, what she was cooking and how to download music on an iPod. He and I exchanged numbers before I left.
A couple of days later, he sent me a text message asking me out on a date. (first flag) **Side note, I am trying to become more progressive but I really am old-fashioned when it comes to dating. I like my doors opened, I’m okay with him paying and I would prefer a phone call if you want to ask me out. Honestly, I would not allow honeygirl to go on a date with a guy who would not verbally ask her. The standard remains the same, forget progressive.**
The event itself was fine. He took me to a friend’s sister’s house for an intimate Christmas party. The party consisted of all of her close friends and me. Never one to turn away from a potentially awkward situation, I embraced the moment and turned on my social charm. He introduced me to everyone he knew as his fiancé. (1/2 flag, it was kind of funny) I soon left his side and began to talk with the other guests. All in all, I had a great time, talked with most of the other guests, heard some funny stories and considered it two hours well spent.
Mr. Wright told me on the drive back that I received an endorsement from one of the guests who described me as grounded, nice and a good catch. Special shout out to Mr. Oil and Gas and his lovely wife, Mrs. Oil and Gas.
I called my friend after dropping off Mr. Wright to discuss the date and for her to keep me company as I drove. I proceeded to tell her about the date and said I saw some red flags. I went on to tell her about the return ride conversation. He described the hostess and her friends as young and pretentious. The he said, I knew you would fit in, that’s why I invited you. (flag, did he just call me pretentious?) Let’s see if I can remember his next words. “Who cares about a degree? They aren’t worth the paper they are printed on most of the time!” (flag, I’m pretty sure I told him I was working on a Masters in education)
As we were approaching his final destination, I allowed him to listed to a live recording of my poem, I’m Better Than That. Let it sink in Mr. Wright. Let it sink in.
Category Archives: Uncategorized
The Rudolph Syndrome
I was listening to the radio this morning when Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer started playing. I hummed along for a few moments until it came to the part about Santa calling on Rudolph because of his nose and asked him to lead the sleigh. All of sudden the other reindeer weren’t calling him names anymore and they weren’t excluding him from the reindeer games. Now they loved him shouted and even shouted with glee that his name would go down in history.
Rewind to several years ago. I was with a room full of moms and each of them was saying how they had always wanted to get married and have babies. They reminisced about being young girls and dreaming this dream. They didn’t know it at the time but I felt out-of-place. I always wanted to be a supreme court justice and have a nanny. As I sat there, I could envision a grove full of trees. None of the trees were exactly alike. I realized I was created to be different, as were you.
Fast forward to this past spring. I was spending time alone to reflect on my life. I realized that my closest set of friends were business majors and could not understand my me fully. I was a psychology major. I made decisions that were impractical or seemed silly but they made sense to me and usually worked out in the end. Even if they didn’t work out, I was okay with that.
Getting back to Rudolph, my point is he was not liked when he was seen as different. He was misunderstood and according to the movie, it was tough enough that he felt the need to run away to join the other misfits. In the end it worked out for him. Santa saw his value and gave him a position of honor. I say to my fellow Rudolphs it’s okay to be you. There is value in being uniquely you. It may not be easy and you may not get to lead the sleigh but you are valuable no matter where you are in the line up. The others can just go kick rocks. (I think that is the funniest saying)
I wonder, are you a person who looks at others’ uniqueness as a personal challenge to try to get them to conform or do you embrace those people who are different hoping to learn something new and experience something different? There is room in this world for all kinds. Where is the fun in everybody being the same?
Attention please!
I have started another blog. I wanted to keep all that chatter focused on my thoughts or your thoughts if you are a guest blogger. The other blog is about the other side of me. Click the link and find out all about cutout4it.
http://cutout4it.wordpress.com/
Did I say it’s a work in progress? Well, it is. Don’t let that stop you from checking it out.
Stuff
I have lots of questions running through my mind. The most pressing question today and yesterday and the day before that is why do we compare our lives to others? I have friends with big houses, small houses, apartments, condos, townhouses, expensive cars, cheap cars, and no cars. I know people who are highly successful (success to me is defined by the person attempting to achieve it not the people looking at the attempts) and others that are making it day-to-day.
Why do we to look at each other’s lives and measure the quality of life on the stuff that has been acquired? Who are we to say you need all the stuff to be happy? I know people with a lot of stuff; some are happy and some are not. I know people without any stuff, some are happy and some are not. Does stuff bring happiness, contentment or satisfaction? Or does the acquisition of stuff come with a drive to acquire more stuff? If another person does not have that same drive or the same need why isn’t that okay?
Now don’t get me wrong, I have stuff and I like stuff. I am one of the few people, who I now of, that is happy with my current stuff. I don’t dream of more for the sake of more. My goal at the end of the day is not more stuff. My goal is contentment in the here and now. My here and my now are different from yours. I will not measure your stuff or lack there of and please don’t measure mine. Me and my stuff are just fine.
“…to thine own self be true…” -Polonius (Hamlet. William Shakespeare)
A Mile in Your Shoes
No, I’ve never walked a mile in your shoes
I would like to walk the next mile or two with you
I want to see what you see
Hear what you hear
Listen to you speak
Learn what makes you laugh
Wipe your tears when you cry
I want to walk a mile with you
I’ll have to do it in my own shoes
Other wise your journey is not unique
Your shoes were custom-made
It’s your journey but I’m here
Lean on me when you are tired
Hold my hand when you need comfort
I want to walk a mile or two with you
-Alicia
The Misunderstood and Underestimated
I was just thinking…
Why is there a stigma surrounding wire hangers? I mean really? What have they done? Who did they hurt? I can’t understand why people have this thing against wire hangers. So we buy plastic hangers. We buy plastic hangers that are not biodegradable. You would never put a marshmallow or hot dog on the end of a plastic hanger to roast over and open fire. You can’t use a plastic hanger to make a cool wreath. You can’t use a plastic hanger to stick in the antennae once the original one breaks in half. You can’t even use a plastic hanger to jimmy the lock on your car door it you lock yourself out.
I see wire hangers as a sign of wealth. In order to acquire wire hangers, you need to take your clothes to the cleaners. Who can afford to take clothes to the cleaners? Who buys clothes that need to go to the cleaners? We are a wash and wear society. I for one refuse to buy more plastic hangers. I will no longer throw away or hide my wire hangers out of shame. I will use my wire hangers and use them proudly.
All That Chatter 