This poem is inspired in part by the #MissMuseMe post from Twitter.
Today the challenge asks me to write about something someone told me that I’ll never forget. Well, I have a somewhat eidetic memory from time to time, so I remember a lot. I remember my first nightmare for crying out loud! I was only 5… I shouldn’t logically remember that, but I do.
So the better way to phrase today’s challenge would be to write about am important thing someone told me that I still remember. That’s a much smaller number. The one that sticks out is a bit of a cliche, but happens to be fairly true. And it keeps me going when things get bad… usually.
There was a girl (I say girl, she was a fully grown adult, ex-military and divorced) living in my dorm during my first attempt at college. We were smoking buddies…yes I used to smoke, but I haven’t had a cigarette in a really long time.
After she and I had both moved out of the dorms, she told me (after telling me she gave me a bad reference when trying to rent a house) that I always somehow managed to land on my feet. At that exact moment, I was pissed about her not helping me get into a place that was perfect for what was going to be my new life. The compliment was still felt; like I said
yesterday earlier, they make me smile even if it takes a while. It took me a while to realize she had actually done me a favor. Continue reading
Years ago (over 20 years, in fact), Fox did a little show called Herman’s Head which personified the four primary emotions that ran a man as perceived in the early 1990s: Lust, Intellect, Anxiety, and Sensitivity. When I first started seeing trailers for the new Pixar film, Inside Out, I was more than a little convinced that it would be the same basic thing, but from the inside of a tween-aged person.
I was pleased to say I was wrong!
Last night I went to an advanced screening, and I thoroughly enjoyed the movie!
More than just a reinvention of an old show for a new audience (seriously Transformers was just an old cartoon all grown up… and they ruined it, buh-bye to all those childhood memories), Inside Out actually took the concept and made it better! It wasn’t just a handful of emotions running the show. There was a whole production outside of “headquarters” with towns and trains and all the major components of the brain, and the brain’s development.
And of course there were the emotions, too.
Here’s a little insight into me, for those of you who are new, or, well, frankly just because: I like to write at a diner. I like a place where I can sit and eat really unhealthy stuff (or sometimes a salad) and write until I’m done. It needs to be a place where they aren’t going to bother me and ask me to leave, but also a place that keeps my tea filled.
I actually really like that type of place where it’s 24 hours and I don’t have to worry about how late I’m there, and if it has a smoking section, even better. Not that I smoke (anymore), but there’s a laid back feeling to a smoking section that other sections don’t have. It’s understood that smokers will sit around longer, because they need a cigarette to finish their meal… Obviously. Continue reading
Again with the bragging? This one at least is easy. When looking at myself for things I like, purely on the outside, anyway, there are two distinct areas that I really like, although, I’m fairly certain they’re not the two that jump to anyone else’s mind.
Because I’m quite top heavy, I get complimented on my chest a lot, but I don’t think my boobs are my best feature. For one thing, due to size alone and the fact that they are all natural, they aren’t as perky as those of my smaller chested friends. Let’s just say I’ve never been one of those girls who could go without a bra. Even my swimsuits have underwires in them.
I also get complimented on my hair a bit. It’s curly and thick, and right now, with the cut I’ve got and the hair products I use, it tends to (all on it’s own) curl itself into perfect Shirley Temple ringlets that bob up just above my shoulders. I like the cut, and I like the bounce, but oh how I would love to be able to just wake up and run a comb through my hair and go like my mother can; she has that perfectly straight hair that requires almost no effort to look perfect. We’d use to go to get our hair done together when I was younger. She’d go for a perm, and me for a relaxer. Within a week, her’s would be straight again, and mine would be wavy, not quite curly. Women are never happy with their hair… Continue reading
It’s Spring Break, and it’s Saint Paddy’s Day. This time last year, I hated my job, I was displeased with the state of things with the Boy and looking into dating a new guy. I was convinced that I was making progress enough to start over with my life and avoid the depression.
Well, I was wrong. I wasn’t ready. I was still in flux.
This year, I like my job much better. Things are still not quite right with the Boy, but not in the same way at all. I’m not in the same apartment. I’m not in any apartment, actually. I’m staying with a friend while I find a place that I really really like and that is close enough to both work and my friends that I don’t give into the depression again.
One thing I learned from all the sadness and depression last year was that I need people in my life. I need to have friends around me. I’ve rearranged my life to a point where I’m mostly alone now. And, while I really like my new job, if I don’t get a social life going again, I’m going to fall prey to the same mess I was in last year. Continue reading
The something I miss most isn’t a specific thing, or a specific person, but a situation and the feelings that came with it. Sometimes I talk about my “first attempt at college,” when I first went to McMurry University in Abilene, TX. I talk a little about the bad boys that I met there, or about the friends I made there. It was while at McMurry that I met that first really awful boy, the abusive one, but it was also while I was in Abilene that I met AJ, who gave me my most romantic (only romantic) Valentine’s Day.
I miss the person I was when I was there. I miss the freedom and self-confidence I had while I was there. I miss the innocence I had when I first got there. I miss the friends I made while there. I miss that whole part of my life!
When I first went to college, I was fearless. I was convinced that because I was at college, I could finally be who I wanted to be. I was in a new place, with no preconceived notions of who I was or what I was capable. I wasn’t just a band nerd or a theater freak or a GT (gifted and talented or honors) student. I was a new person. I could put forth any personality I wanted.
I didn’t have to hide how liberal my views were on dating and sexuality. And I didn’t have to tell anyone that I didn’t date in high school. I could pretend to know everything, and there was no one around to tell anyone otherwise. I could tell people I was a Samantha instead of a Charlotte, and no one would be the wiser.