Thursday, March 24, 2011

Project Me

This year I have been working on “Project Me”. The objective of Project Me is to bring joy, hope, love, and self confidence back into my life. And it all starts with ME. It is a project I can’t map out with time-lines and due dates which makes it harder to realize the milestones and see the successes. There a roadblock to the project and ironically it is me. I am my own worst enemy in trying to find the better me within. Negative self-talk and doubt all work to clutter my mind and cast out the positive. It is constant and tiresome war but there are some battles where the good me is making some headway.

Last night I remembered that “Project Me” isn’t a solo project. I need supportive friends and family to help me win the battles. Needing to reach out to someone, I called my friend, Andrea. Even though it was late – almost 11 – she and I spoke for over an hour. She asked about my weight loss and I responded that it wasn’t where I wanted to be but that I had lost a few pounds. The loving person she is reminded me that any success large or small is a success and should not be followed up with “it is not good enough”. As I was lamenting over a particular jack-wagon who has decided not to return my phone calls and treat me like I don’t exist, she kindly reminded me that it is not my fault if he chooses to be that way. I should not take blame and allow him to make feel like less of a person. Can you see why I called her? It is support like this that will help Project Me succeed.

Another hurdle in the Project is boredom. I am just plain bored and with boredom comes self-doubt and with self-doubt comes every other negative thought. I’ve been trying to battle the boredom by reading, blogging, and finding random things to do around the house but it isn’t quite enough. Eventually, I need to find something I am passionate about where I can use up my bored energy.

I have a list of things I want to do and goals I want to achieve that I need to dust off and organize into a workable list yet something holds me back. I think it is fear of failure. Maybe after I write this, I will pull it out and try to put the fear aside.

I know my posts lately tend to lean toward the more depressed side and I am trying not to bring anyone down. But I find this to be a good outlet to express these thoughts and put my words into action. Hopefully, there will be more posts about the progress and success of “Project Me.”

Wednesday, March 23, 2011


I don’t date. Even the idea of a free meal or a night out isn’t enough to lure me back into the dating world. Sure, I want a companion in my life but I don’t want to kiss a zillion frogs to find the one that MIGHT be a prince. In my experience dating requires too much effort with results that are hardly worth the extra thirty minutes spent to look your best.

Many, many people try – some succeed – to meet people though online dating. I have tried and failed. Then tried and failed again. I don’t know if it is me not putting enough effort into it or if it is the lack of men on the sites who show an interest in me. Either way my experiences in that arena have been less than stellar. Some have been quite memorable if only because years later I can laugh at the experience but more on that later.

I find online dating similar to shopping at the grocery store. Everyone puts their face and nickname on a label facing the aisle, their “About me:” information faces the back wall. Inside the can is the real person, their personality, hopes, dreams, family life, and so on. Potential mates wander the aisles looking at the labels – some pretty, some plain, some scary. If you’re lucky one will stop and take a longer look. Even luckier, they will take the can off the shelf and read the back label. Some will even go so far as to put the can in the cart. The potential mate takes a little bit of time to familiarize themselves with the cans in their cart, slowly weeding out those that are less appealing. Eventually, they may take one or two to the checkout counter – actually requesting a date. From there they open the can to find the prize inside. The problem is that most people never go beyond looking at the picture on the label.

It may never happen for me but I would rather meet someone in a more organic way, through friends or family, or that someone you know but have never really gotten to know well. After that, I want to get to know them, become friends, then potentially more. I don’t want to be looking through the internet dating supermarket. Is that so wrong? Am I old-fashioned in thinking people can still meet in the real world instead of online? Either way, I just can’t bring myself to once again label the can and put myself on the shelf.

If you’ve stayed this long you deserve a tale from my online dating hall of shame. This one is about GPS guy. GPS guy wasn’t too bad too look at; he even had a decent personality the few time we chatted on the phone or through e-mail. When he picked me up for the date he was excited. Not about me though - about being able to look for Geo-Caches all around my community. He spent some time on the computer looking for stashes, then programmed the good ‘ole GPS to tell him where to find these treasures. Always willing to try something new, I went along on this little adventure.

The first was across the street at the city building in a little monument. We couldn’t find it. Shucks. The second was at the cemetery. That’s right. The cemetery. My sense of adventure began to wane at the thought of people putting these caches in a cemetery. Hardly the proper place. The next one was in a neighborhood that I used to live in and knew well. My mistake was thinking I could give him the directions instead of relying on Ms. GPS. When I said turn right, Ms. GPS said, “In one mile, turn right.” To which I replied, “The next right turn is up over the mountain and down the other side” but hey, what do I know. I only live here. After a mile, and realizing Ms. Snooty –GPS was wrong he finally turned around. Keeping my mouth shut, we found the next cache site and spent several wasted minutes looking for nothing. It wasn’t there. The next site required following a dirt road up the mountain and hiking a little ways. Again I knew the exact place, but decided to keep my mouth shut. As we left the truck and began our little hike, I made yet another mistake. I began telling him how I would ride up there on my four-wheeler and once got stuck. He then proceeded to tell me all about how ATV riders ruin the terrain by littering and not following designated trails, and on and on and on. As he is ranting about the evil ATV riders, he was thrashing through a stand of scrub oak, pulling out branches, tossing them aside, and generally making a mess of the area. Finally, he found the cache, a small black plastic toolbox (litter, in my opinion) filled with nothing remotely interesting (a band-aid, notebook, action figure - litter in a box). My ATV riding brain was thinking, “Pot? Kettle?” I made less of an impact on my little four-wheeler.

After that the date was pretty much over.  I didn't even get a free meal out of the deal.  Needless to say, I never saw GPS guy/ATV hater again.

Saturday, March 19, 2011


Today my normally peaceful house has been overrun by various nieces and nephews.  My nieces called to ask if they could come over and make muffins - my sister's oven is not working.  When my sister brought them over she conveniently left my 5 year old nephew.  After muffins were made and eaten they then drew pictures and painted.  After several hours, I took them home and came back for a few short hours of peace. The peace was again disrupted when my brother pulled in with his two boys.  They get to spend the night with Aunt Amy and Cousin Austin, while their parents enjoy a kid free evening.  So far, so good.  They are watching a movie with my son down stairs while I enjoy a little bit of quiet upstairs.

There are days when the quiet in my house is so overwhelming that I have to turn the television on just to hear something other than my own thoughts, yet how quickly I miss that quiet when the house is full of kids demanding attention.   I do love having the kids around.  I am glad that they want to come and visit us.  It is nice to be the aunt they enjoy spending time with.  But it is also nice that I get to send them home again. 

So for tonight there is little peace and quiet to be had in my house but come tomorrow morning, silence will reign again.  I am still not sure which one I like best.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011


I was trying to come up with something to blog about other than my intense dislike for a certain person.  It is definitely unhealthy and I need to do what my son often says, "Cry a river, build a bridge, and get over it!" So instead of ranting about her and giving her too much of my time, I stole this idea from here

I am… standing on the edge of something but don’t know what it is or how to get over, under, or around it.

I want… to feel wonderful and happy.

I have… too much time on my hands.

I wish… I were in love.

I know…that I need to get out more.

I hate…being hurt.

I hear…not so nice self talk.

I crave… hugs.

I search… for the me that I once was.

I always… think too much and do too little.

I usually…drive to the gas station every morning and get a Coke.

I miss…passion.

I love… my son.

I never…date.

I rarely…feel truly happy.

I cry… too often.

I lose…pens

I should…be kinder to myself.

I worry…about the future.

I dream…about losing people and finding them again...yes, I really do that.

I was…going to have a better day today.

I need… to lose weight.

I can…learn to love myself.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Ticking Clock

My son is taking a child development class this semester and over the weekend he brought home a “Real Baby”. It is a doll the acts somewhat like a real baby. It cries to be fed, burped, changed, or held. There are sensors on the baby’s body that react to a bracelet the student wears and then the baby records how long it took to be picked up after it started to cry, how hard the student patted its back to be burped, and whether or not the head was supported correctly. It comes with a bottle which also has a sensor so the baby can read how often it is fed. There are two diapers, also with sensors, and he had to make sure he was alternating between the two when he changed the diapers. The baby coo’s, laughs, and sighs but she mainly cries.

It was my son’s weekend to stay at his dad’s house so I missed out on all the baby “fun”. But last night while the baby was here at our house, I could hear it cry a little during the night and that sweet, little, realistic cry tugged at something I have suppressed for years – the little clock ticking away at my baby making time.

The ticking is actually very faint and has slowed – somewhat like an old clock right before the battery dies – but it is still there (I am only 36 after all). It makes me wonder what I may have missed in my life by only having one child, by not getting remarried, or having a “traditional” family. I look at pregnant women and feel a little jealousy because it is likely that I will never experience that again. Then I look at my son – my sixteen year old son- and think, if I were to get married and have another child my son would be an adult and I would have a baby. I know people do it all the time but I don’t think it is really my style.

So I listen to my clock tick and feel a little tug in my belly when I hear a baby cry or laugh but instead of looking back on what might have been, I try to look forward to what could be. God willing, there will be babies in my future – grandbabies. And when that time comes – hopefully at least 6 or 7 years down the road – I will take all the extra love stored up inside and pour it out on them. In the meantime, I will enjoy my son and the blessing that he is and knowing each day with him is a gift.