49 years ago today after my early morning birth Daddy carried me (wrapped in swaddling clothes) up the hill and lifted me to the heavens and "Behold-ed" me and the village bowed....wait, that was Kizzy and Simba. If you know me, you know I LOVE my birthday. I've never been one of those people who stay 25 or 30 or whatever age they think keeps them young because 1) I am grateful for every single day, minute, second the Lord has allowed me to be here and 2) I don't look as old as I am - vanity is not all bad.
I've been in this physical, mental and emotional metamorphosis over the past couple of years. My personal paradigm shift started with my move but then the rest is really me acknowledging life's aha moments and carpe diem-ing the heck out of em. Two things stand out as I start this new calendar and birth year.
First, my sister friend (not to be confused with sister wife) Nadine called me a Life Magnifier (she's Natalie or Nakki to the rest of the world - and nobody else gets to call her Nadine but me...I'm serious...I will fight you, bruh) How. Awesome. Is. That?? I mean really, there are no better words to capture what I do on a daily basis. I don't intentionally walk around creating Classic KT moments, they're instinctive. They happen cause I notice life. I SEE things. Not like dead people - but I see life's happenings and more often than not find the funny in them. And it is my duty to bring it to the attention of the masses or at least those around me. I'm certain that's what WOULD have happened had Daddy taken me up that mountain top and held me up to the stars. "Behold, SEE LIFE" would have been the declaration. I've had some tragic moments. I've suffered some painfully devastating losses that, at the time, didn't seem to be something from which I'd ever recover. Even in those moments there was Nessa patting me on the back saying "Ninja" as she so appropriately does. Those MINOR moments of levity make me step back and "see" the moment for what it is...Life. Then I've seen some ridiculously joyful moments - those times where I've laughed so hard I've pee'd my pants just a little. Or those times that nobody seems to think it's hilarious that the choir director is doing a perfect pirouette in church as he directs the song in his perfectly tailored suit. I mean Misty Copeland would pay homage to that pirouette. (Google her, people). I need folk to SEE and fully appreciate that!
Then there was a sign on Pinterest that I've pinned to one of my boards that says "Life would be a million times better if there were pinatas strategically placed throughout the day". BTW, I have some REALLY funny and prophetic signs on that particular board. But seriously, how totally kickass would it be if you're having a bad day and you could go to the nearest pinata and wack the hell out of it? OR if you were having a day where you were princess of the world and you could go to a nearby pinata and have dark chocolate truffles rain down on your royal gloriousness. (As an aside, I have absolutely no desire to be the Queen. Queens have way too much responsibility - ruling over stuff, making decisions about the castle staff and whatnot, not to mention tending to the King's over inflated ego. I'm just gonna stay the princess and run around the castle kicking it with the help or go into the village and maybe have a dalliance with a commoner.) I'm gonna act like life really does have pinatas. I'm going to vent when necessary. I ain't trying to hold in my frustration and die from a heart attack. But more importantly, I'm gonna celebrate more (if that's possible). I will continue to dress for tea every Sunday when I'm watching Downton Abbey (not DowntoWn). I'm eventually going to stop in the middle of K Street and sing whatever bomb song comes on my ipod. Then carry on. I'm gonna do it. And a whole bunch of other stuff that my spirit prompts me to do - obviously resisting those things that will get me arrested.
We all know life is short...so buy the shoes; eat the cupcake; work up a sweat in a workout that makes you feel so good you can't wait to do it again; listen to REAL music; engage a stranger and point out "Life" that's going on and have him/her giggle about it with you; have groups of friends (like my brilliant M's, my joy-rising Westin girls, all them Delta girls I love, etc.) that encourage you to be all of you; watch football all day (and be not dismayed by the Cowboys); in fact, don't feel guilty at all about watching as much tv as you want; read a phenomenal life-changing/affirming book; go somewhere you've never been...most importantly, learn at least one scripture from the KING JAMES VERSION - bathe in the love of God then live in LOVE. When you're living in love you don't have time to judge, condemn or hate anybody who's views you don't share.
Get your life magnifying glass and go see some stuff and smack the hell out of some pinatas!! This, my friends, is my gift to you on the day of my birth.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Monday, December 17, 2012
Match THIS!
In my previous blog (which wasn't that long ago...so there) I mentioned how I've decided I like dating more than relationships. I've been trying to figure out why I need a relationship and can't really come up with a solid reason. So...dating it is.
I started Project Yes back in the summer. Project Yes was/is quite simply me saying "Yes" to anyone who asks me out (as long as they don't give me the heebee geebees or look like they'll murder me) I'll say yes. I get stopped all the time and I blow these men off all the time. I quite possibly could have been blowing off a really good date. So I'm off on the Yes Train...choo choo...woop woop!!
THEN, my soror strongly suggested I get on Match.com where she met her fiance. I'm thinking ok - the electronic version of Project Yes. How bad could it be - a little bad grammar here and there. I did have some self talk about not judging people who think your and you're are interchangeable.
I need to take a commercial break to say - THEY'RE NOT! YOUR is a possessive - like it belongs to you. YOU'RE is the the contraction YOU ARE. Typos are one thing. Grammar incompetence is a completely different thing and I rebuke it as the child of an educator and in the mighty name of my 5th grade teacher Mrs. Barge. LEARN THE KING'S ENGLISH, PEOPLE! Shamalabosa!!!
Antywho...during Sandra J. Frankenstorm while I was home-bound, I created a Match profile. While I was concerned that my first set of daily matches contained this dude that owned (or at least photographed in) far too many berets that any non Frenchman should, it wasn't so bad. Some brothas actually looked interesting. The winks and emails started coming with a quickness and I'm thinking this will really be fun. Until....this e-mail happens.
Subj: For Your Information (FYI)
"My fantasy with you is making you pregnant with my child. Todd"
I started Project Yes back in the summer. Project Yes was/is quite simply me saying "Yes" to anyone who asks me out (as long as they don't give me the heebee geebees or look like they'll murder me) I'll say yes. I get stopped all the time and I blow these men off all the time. I quite possibly could have been blowing off a really good date. So I'm off on the Yes Train...choo choo...woop woop!!
THEN, my soror strongly suggested I get on Match.com where she met her fiance. I'm thinking ok - the electronic version of Project Yes. How bad could it be - a little bad grammar here and there. I did have some self talk about not judging people who think your and you're are interchangeable.
I need to take a commercial break to say - THEY'RE NOT! YOUR is a possessive - like it belongs to you. YOU'RE is the the contraction YOU ARE. Typos are one thing. Grammar incompetence is a completely different thing and I rebuke it as the child of an educator and in the mighty name of my 5th grade teacher Mrs. Barge. LEARN THE KING'S ENGLISH, PEOPLE! Shamalabosa!!!
Antywho...during Sandra J. Frankenstorm while I was home-bound, I created a Match profile. While I was concerned that my first set of daily matches contained this dude that owned (or at least photographed in) far too many berets that any non Frenchman should, it wasn't so bad. Some brothas actually looked interesting. The winks and emails started coming with a quickness and I'm thinking this will really be fun. Until....this e-mail happens.
Subj: For Your Information (FYI)
"My fantasy with you is making you pregnant with my child. Todd"
That was the EXACT email. I read this at about 11p and I had
the most stupefied look on my face because really, what are you supposed to think? Has a precedent been set for such an e-mail? Is that in the Match.com manual? I read it and re-read it about 5 times before I was very clear that I was reading correctly - I even put on readers just to be sure. We're not going to even get into the
fact that he doesn't think I know what FYI means...but I digress. I'm as fascinated as I
am appalled. Of course I responded because, above all else, I am here to entertain you.
Me: That was the craziest thing
I've ever read in my existence on the earth.
And subsequent emails went like this....
Subj: For Your
Information (FYI)
The Astrological
Compatibility was there--in both Zodiacs.
Me: No. I'm
pretty sure you're wrong.
Subj: No
The timing is off.
If I could do it all over again: I would not have married that Aquarius.
Me: I'm
certain she feels the same way.
Subj: Please
You don't understand Aquarius.
You don't understand Aquarius.
However, I understand you with out knowing you. I am a Virgo - Ox and you are a
Capricorn - Rabbit. If I would have met a Capricorn - Rabbit in the 80's, we
would not be having this communication.
Older and wiser. Where is that time machine?
Older and wiser. Where is that time machine?
Me: What I do understand is while I can easily erase this email from my inbox, I
cannot erase it from my mental Rolodex. Please continue your pursuit of a
Capricorn as long as it's not me.
So yeah, that happened. To Me. KT. If that's not a Classic KT moment, I really don't know what is. I'm not going to lie. I'm kind of tempted to sign up for Christian Singles, Black People Meet and whatever other wackadoo site I can find - just to be entertained. I'm headed down a slippery slope now of not even wanting to date....JUST ENTERTAIN ME, DAMMIT! Bet you can't match THAT!
Friday, December 7, 2012
I Do Dumb Stuff
I do dumb stuff. I do dumb stuff all the time. The reason I even started this blog was to recount the dumb stuff I do. So yeah, I called the blog Classic KT because the dumb stuff I do has been aptly named Classic KT moments. But really, it's just dumb stuff I do. So TODAY in the life of me and my dumb stuff, I outdid myself.
Signed Kkkk
I semi joined a church not long after I moved to DC but then stopped feeling that church so I started church hopping. I rather like being non-committal in my church home (as much as I like being non-committal with most things with the exception of my undying commitment to loving my Lord. In fact, I've recently learned that I like dating way better than relationships..though that's another blog). So this church I've been frequenting has a great choir. The choir president stopped me one Sunday and said he watches me participate and I look like I know the songs and have experience singing in a choir. I told him that yes I have been accustomed to singing in the choir BUT I'm not a member so I didn't think I could participate. He said, that was correct but he was going to check to see if there could be an exception made. He got back to me later in the week and told me approvals have been given and he'd love to see me at the next rehearsal.
I showed up and the people were warm and friendly and my section leader was this lovely woman who took my number and said she'd keep me updated. Which leads to me and the dumb stuff I do. I'm not good with names...at all. I do all the tricks to remember people's names, but I'm just not good at it. My WONDERFUL section leader lady has called me NUMEROUS times and said her name to me but today I needed to call her and ask about rehearsal and I remembered I didn't know her name. I have her number in my phone but there is no name attached. I remembered that it begins with an R but I can't for the life of me remember the rest. Sooooo I picked up the phone and the conversation went like this:
Her: Hello.
Me: Hi Rrrr this is Karen Townsend, how are you doing?
I figured if I made the R sound she would think I'd said her name and we could move on. IT WORKED!!!!!! When she didn't miss a beat and just said "Oh I'm doing fine" and I continued to ask my question, I thought I was going to pee on myself I was laughing so hard. I could barely get through the rest of the conversation because THAT was sooo funny to me.
So...let this be a lesson to you. Don't let not remembering a name get you down. Go forth in confidence and all will be well.
Signed Kkkk
Monday, May 14, 2012
The Girl Is Graduating!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Anybody who knows me knows that had I been alive during the early 20th century, I would have TOTALLY aspired to be the Town Crier. I would love to run the streets in a spiffy outfit sharing the news with the citizenry. I would have been sooooo good at that job. I would have been known throughout the land as the best Town Crier EVER. In fact, when big news happened, on my day off, they would have waited to share it until I got back to work because they would have wanted me on the job. OR, I would have gotten paid overtime to come in and share the news. Which begs the question - would I have had a salary, been paid hourly or would I have been paid per news event that I cried? And had I been paid per event would I have had to have another job, too? during that time, most/all women were married so I would imagine that my husband would have supported us and I would have done the crier gig on the side of being the CEO of the household. Hell, laundry alone is a full time job! I probably would have been married to a guy that would be turned on by my crier duties and would have wanted me to wear my crier clothes at home while we were role playing. I went too far didn't I? Sorry about that...
At any rate, as the present day town crier...
THE GIRL IS GRADUATING!!!
THE GIRL IS GRADUATING!!!
THE GIRL IS GRADUATING!!!
I'm sooo excited, I literally do want to run the streets screaming it but I won't so that I don't get arrested. But thinking of doing that made me think of other things I should probably not do at her graduation festivities this weekend. There are three scheduled events - the hooding ceremony on Saturday, Baccalaureate on Sunday and the Graduation on Monday. I have visions of certain things I MAY do; but I'm committed to containing myself and NOT doing them. They include:
1) Shouting/Speaking in Tongues: I have a vision of me jumping up and down shouting GLORRRAAAYYYY to get started and then it's on from there. HALLELUJAH...309UDPOIJD 3*&)*&...literally in a full back bend, head thrown back screaming at the top of my lungs...waiting for an usher to come by to fan me and throw a hankie over me as I'm spread eagle on the floor.
2) On the floor in the fetal position: almost the opposite of the shouting experience would be me on the floor in the fetal position, sucking my thumb and crying uncontrollable tears of joy making a ridiculous amount of noise....not worrying at all that my spanx are showing . Intermittent embarrassing stories of her childhood would come between the bouts of tears and thumb sucking.
3) Pee on Myself: Although I've never done it, when I get REALLY excited, I get nervous that I may pee my pants. Depends IS an option, but does that mean I'll have to get bigger spanx to accommodate them? And will there be a visible panty ( or Depends) line?
4) Running: that's another thing I do when I get excited, I just want to run in a full sprint so fast that I need someone to tackle me to stop me.
5) Twirling/Spinning/Skipping: when I get happy I want to spin and twirl until I'm dizzy and I need to sit down. Then I want to skip. Now, I've been rehabbing this knee so my skipping is pretty good these days. My skipping has probably made it to the 70th percentile of skippers worldwide!
One of my aunts gave me an amazing compliment this weekend. She said "You so know how to live in the moment!" I loved that because I don't "try" to do it, I just do. It's the way I live. So this weekend, as I'm living in the moment of the revelry of The Girl's graduation weekend, I will not do anything to embarrass her. I will, however, be fully present in the most celebratory fashion I know how. I will have a permanent grin on my face of sheer unadulterated joy and pride. I will likely cry...a lot (no noise) - and I will have the cutest hankies that belonged to my grandmother - which will probably make me cry more (MY GRANDMA'S HANKIE...LAWD). I will hug her a lot. I will hug my Mama a lot. I will likely even hug my ex-husband (possibly - still TBD - since I live in the moment it will probably happen before I realize it). I will Hercules clap when her name is called - to the point I'll likely bruise my palms.
Yep this is a weekend for which Town Criers live. And this wanna be Town Crier will be at her best.
THE GIRL IS GRADUATING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
At any rate, as the present day town crier...
THE GIRL IS GRADUATING!!!
THE GIRL IS GRADUATING!!!
THE GIRL IS GRADUATING!!!
I'm sooo excited, I literally do want to run the streets screaming it but I won't so that I don't get arrested. But thinking of doing that made me think of other things I should probably not do at her graduation festivities this weekend. There are three scheduled events - the hooding ceremony on Saturday, Baccalaureate on Sunday and the Graduation on Monday. I have visions of certain things I MAY do; but I'm committed to containing myself and NOT doing them. They include:
1) Shouting/Speaking in Tongues: I have a vision of me jumping up and down shouting GLORRRAAAYYYY to get started and then it's on from there. HALLELUJAH...309UDPOIJD 3*&)*&...literally in a full back bend, head thrown back screaming at the top of my lungs...waiting for an usher to come by to fan me and throw a hankie over me as I'm spread eagle on the floor.
2) On the floor in the fetal position: almost the opposite of the shouting experience would be me on the floor in the fetal position, sucking my thumb and crying uncontrollable tears of joy making a ridiculous amount of noise....not worrying at all that my spanx are showing . Intermittent embarrassing stories of her childhood would come between the bouts of tears and thumb sucking.
3) Pee on Myself: Although I've never done it, when I get REALLY excited, I get nervous that I may pee my pants. Depends IS an option, but does that mean I'll have to get bigger spanx to accommodate them? And will there be a visible panty ( or Depends) line?
4) Running: that's another thing I do when I get excited, I just want to run in a full sprint so fast that I need someone to tackle me to stop me.
5) Twirling/Spinning/Skipping: when I get happy I want to spin and twirl until I'm dizzy and I need to sit down. Then I want to skip. Now, I've been rehabbing this knee so my skipping is pretty good these days. My skipping has probably made it to the 70th percentile of skippers worldwide!
One of my aunts gave me an amazing compliment this weekend. She said "You so know how to live in the moment!" I loved that because I don't "try" to do it, I just do. It's the way I live. So this weekend, as I'm living in the moment of the revelry of The Girl's graduation weekend, I will not do anything to embarrass her. I will, however, be fully present in the most celebratory fashion I know how. I will have a permanent grin on my face of sheer unadulterated joy and pride. I will likely cry...a lot (no noise) - and I will have the cutest hankies that belonged to my grandmother - which will probably make me cry more (MY GRANDMA'S HANKIE...LAWD). I will hug her a lot. I will hug my Mama a lot. I will likely even hug my ex-husband (possibly - still TBD - since I live in the moment it will probably happen before I realize it). I will Hercules clap when her name is called - to the point I'll likely bruise my palms.
Yep this is a weekend for which Town Criers live. And this wanna be Town Crier will be at her best.
THE GIRL IS GRADUATING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
I Lost My Uterus...and Lost My Mind
So I didn't actually LOSE my uterus. I know where it is (or at least who took it and it was taken with my permission) but it's gone never to return to this body. I had no idea it was also going to make me lose my mind (again, not literally lose it but act crazier than the normal KT level of crazy).
Hysterectomies are not new. When I decided to have one I was surprised at the number of friends and family who've had them. As I was getting ready for my surgery I talked to so many of them and everyone had a "story". I found the Hystersisters website and felt like I was totally ready for this. The surgery was WAAAY more complicated than the doctor anticipated. Of course, I'm not surprised...I'm WAAAAY more complicated than the average bear (in a good way) hence my uterus and all things located therein (funky fibroids) would also be complicated. I came out - friends and family waiting - Philly Soul waiting to get a report from CAT - my BELOVED morphine drip...and pretty much all was right in the world.
Let's take a moment of silence out of respect for the morphine drip...that thing is amazing. Fortunately for me that drip is regulated so I couldn't get it as much as I wanted. I just wanted to stay out in front of the pain. I was scared to go to sleep because I didn't want to wake up in pain..who was going to push the button while I was asleep????
Obviously, I survived and went home a few days later, slept off the morphine and started my recovery. Now, my friend Candice told me she followed the doctor's orders to the letter and didn't have one issue. So she was my recovery idol. Being in the house with my Mom there was no option for me to overdo it. So physically I was coming along just fine. But mentally....all I can say is WHAT THE HELL????????????
It's already been established that I'm...well as a few friends put it...crazy as hell. I'd like to think of me as "exotic". So let's take all this exotic-ness and subtract my uterus. There is no easy way to say this...I'm officially coo coo for cocoa puffs. I knew there would be hormonal changes but I was in no way prepared for my combination of uteruslessness and natural exotic-ness....NOT AT ALL.
Exhibit A: I changed my alarm tone that wakes me up and the next morning when it woke me up I had no idea what the noise was, and was so startled, I literally threw myself out of the bed and was wedged on the floor between the wall and my bed...NOT a good look.
Exhibit B: I was putting sriracha sauce on some wonderful dish I'd prepared and looked at the top before I shook it to be sure it was closed and proceeded to shake away. Said top was NOT closed and there was a sriracha explosion on the wall of my kitchen. Then I said to myself, didn't I just look at that top? After the cleanup, I looked and TURNED the top again, and yep you guessed it, it was not closed again and I had a second sriracha explosion. I considered just leaving it on the wall as artwork but realized that would just be nasty.
Exhibit C: I needed something out of my boudoir (it's really my closet room but boudoir sounds so much more fancy). I ran upstairs and then couldn't remember what I was looking for. Instead of shaking my head or even just laughing it off, I started crying. Not those gentle tears where someone would pat me gently and say "are you ok?". No, I cried those falling on the floor laying prostrate before the Lord kind of tears. Now when you realize you're laying on the floor face down crying hysterically and then you STOP..the most humiliating part about that - EVEN WHEN YOU'RE ALONE - is getting up with some kind of dignity and resuming the day's activities. I stood up and then fell on my ottoman crying hysterically because I'd just cried hysterically. WHO DOES THAT???? A woman with that missing lady part, that's who.
I have so many more exhibits that I'd need to start doubling up on my alphabet. But I won't share any more because I don't want it to alter your admiration for me AND because Carolyn and JJ (actually now JD) always complain that my blogs are too long! I'll just say like the old ladies at church say - please pray my strength in the Lord. Also pray I don't need to lose any other lady parts.
Hysterectomies are not new. When I decided to have one I was surprised at the number of friends and family who've had them. As I was getting ready for my surgery I talked to so many of them and everyone had a "story". I found the Hystersisters website and felt like I was totally ready for this. The surgery was WAAAY more complicated than the doctor anticipated. Of course, I'm not surprised...I'm WAAAAY more complicated than the average bear (in a good way) hence my uterus and all things located therein (funky fibroids) would also be complicated. I came out - friends and family waiting - Philly Soul waiting to get a report from CAT - my BELOVED morphine drip...and pretty much all was right in the world.
Let's take a moment of silence out of respect for the morphine drip...that thing is amazing. Fortunately for me that drip is regulated so I couldn't get it as much as I wanted. I just wanted to stay out in front of the pain. I was scared to go to sleep because I didn't want to wake up in pain..who was going to push the button while I was asleep????
Obviously, I survived and went home a few days later, slept off the morphine and started my recovery. Now, my friend Candice told me she followed the doctor's orders to the letter and didn't have one issue. So she was my recovery idol. Being in the house with my Mom there was no option for me to overdo it. So physically I was coming along just fine. But mentally....all I can say is WHAT THE HELL????????????
It's already been established that I'm...well as a few friends put it...crazy as hell. I'd like to think of me as "exotic". So let's take all this exotic-ness and subtract my uterus. There is no easy way to say this...I'm officially coo coo for cocoa puffs. I knew there would be hormonal changes but I was in no way prepared for my combination of uteruslessness and natural exotic-ness....NOT AT ALL.
Exhibit A: I changed my alarm tone that wakes me up and the next morning when it woke me up I had no idea what the noise was, and was so startled, I literally threw myself out of the bed and was wedged on the floor between the wall and my bed...NOT a good look.
Exhibit B: I was putting sriracha sauce on some wonderful dish I'd prepared and looked at the top before I shook it to be sure it was closed and proceeded to shake away. Said top was NOT closed and there was a sriracha explosion on the wall of my kitchen. Then I said to myself, didn't I just look at that top? After the cleanup, I looked and TURNED the top again, and yep you guessed it, it was not closed again and I had a second sriracha explosion. I considered just leaving it on the wall as artwork but realized that would just be nasty.
Exhibit C: I needed something out of my boudoir (it's really my closet room but boudoir sounds so much more fancy). I ran upstairs and then couldn't remember what I was looking for. Instead of shaking my head or even just laughing it off, I started crying. Not those gentle tears where someone would pat me gently and say "are you ok?". No, I cried those falling on the floor laying prostrate before the Lord kind of tears. Now when you realize you're laying on the floor face down crying hysterically and then you STOP..the most humiliating part about that - EVEN WHEN YOU'RE ALONE - is getting up with some kind of dignity and resuming the day's activities. I stood up and then fell on my ottoman crying hysterically because I'd just cried hysterically. WHO DOES THAT???? A woman with that missing lady part, that's who.
I have so many more exhibits that I'd need to start doubling up on my alphabet. But I won't share any more because I don't want it to alter your admiration for me AND because Carolyn and JJ (actually now JD) always complain that my blogs are too long! I'll just say like the old ladies at church say - please pray my strength in the Lord. Also pray I don't need to lose any other lady parts.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Ahhhh....The Beginning
I'm not even going to get into how long it's been since I've done a post so....let just get into it.
So you're walking down the corridor and you spot him and he spots you and you think to yourself "Hmm, he's kinda cute." But you remind yourself to get closer before you make a final determination on his cuteness because of that one time you met a dude at the club and you thought HE was cute, too. You agree to meet the next day for coffee. You get there first and are sitting by the window waiting for Mr. Cute and you get distracted giggling at this fool trying to parallel park this big ole deuce and a quarter. He finally gets it parked and gets out with a velvet shirt and a soul patch and comes into the coffee shop and waves at YOU! What you THOUGHT was cute was actually a nightmare of an individual that couldn't get enough cashews. You remind yourself to never trust your eyes.
Anyhoo....This current cutie gets closer, and you realize he really IS cute. You do everything to try and calm yourself as he starts walking toward you You exchange greetings and chat for a bit, exchange numbers and agree to connect. He calls you the next day (because you're certain he doesn't want to seem too anxious and call you the same day) and you have amazing conversation for over an hour. The daily conversations get better and you can't BELIEVE this great guy is saying all the right things and he seems to be as into you as you are into him. Then.....it begins.
All that ridiculously crazy, tingly excitement that comes over you - THE BEGINNING. Suddenly, you're playing the playlist on your Ipod that has the most love songs. You're humming songs that have "la la" in the lyrics. You pull out your Love Jones DVD and watch it twice in a row. You DIE every time he says "Babe" cause he says it just right. You nearly have a heart attack when the phone rings and it's him because you were JUST thinking about him and hoping he would call. You start thinking of the ringtone he's going to get on your phone - but promise to wait at least two weeks before doing so. You have to work at not talking about him ALL THE TIME to your friends so they won't be sick of him before they meet him. You just want to find a field of flowers and freaking skip through it!
Who doesn't love the beginning? I love seeing those couples who have the "beginning" throughout the course of their relationships. I have lots of friends who do that and I get really excited for them (even if I sometimes want to throw up in my mouth about how sickeningly in love they are). Don't you love those couples that can have an intimate moment in a crowded room of people - to the point where you almost feel like you're invading their privacy? That there - that started in the beginning and has just carried on. Conversely, I feel sad for those couples who have no beginning happening and look like "Why does he/she keep coming home?" Do they remember their beginning? Did they even have a "beginning" or was their relationship some kind of business arrangement?
I am here to declare - I REFUSE to have a relationship that doesn't maintain some beginning in it. Who wouldn't want - at worst an itty bitty bit, or at best a whole heapin lot of that beginning throughout? For those negative Nancys who say it's not possible - I say HOGWASH...AND HOCKEY PUCKS and sentence you to a life of sensible shoes!
I and the the rest of us Beginning Believers are gonna be out here having us some beginnings, looking for a field of flowers (or strawberries, perhaps) for skipping, gaiety and all around merriment! Off we go...
So you're walking down the corridor and you spot him and he spots you and you think to yourself "Hmm, he's kinda cute." But you remind yourself to get closer before you make a final determination on his cuteness because of that one time you met a dude at the club and you thought HE was cute, too. You agree to meet the next day for coffee. You get there first and are sitting by the window waiting for Mr. Cute and you get distracted giggling at this fool trying to parallel park this big ole deuce and a quarter. He finally gets it parked and gets out with a velvet shirt and a soul patch and comes into the coffee shop and waves at YOU! What you THOUGHT was cute was actually a nightmare of an individual that couldn't get enough cashews. You remind yourself to never trust your eyes.
Anyhoo....This current cutie gets closer, and you realize he really IS cute. You do everything to try and calm yourself as he starts walking toward you You exchange greetings and chat for a bit, exchange numbers and agree to connect. He calls you the next day (because you're certain he doesn't want to seem too anxious and call you the same day) and you have amazing conversation for over an hour. The daily conversations get better and you can't BELIEVE this great guy is saying all the right things and he seems to be as into you as you are into him. Then.....it begins.
All that ridiculously crazy, tingly excitement that comes over you - THE BEGINNING. Suddenly, you're playing the playlist on your Ipod that has the most love songs. You're humming songs that have "la la" in the lyrics. You pull out your Love Jones DVD and watch it twice in a row. You DIE every time he says "Babe" cause he says it just right. You nearly have a heart attack when the phone rings and it's him because you were JUST thinking about him and hoping he would call. You start thinking of the ringtone he's going to get on your phone - but promise to wait at least two weeks before doing so. You have to work at not talking about him ALL THE TIME to your friends so they won't be sick of him before they meet him. You just want to find a field of flowers and freaking skip through it!
Who doesn't love the beginning? I love seeing those couples who have the "beginning" throughout the course of their relationships. I have lots of friends who do that and I get really excited for them (even if I sometimes want to throw up in my mouth about how sickeningly in love they are). Don't you love those couples that can have an intimate moment in a crowded room of people - to the point where you almost feel like you're invading their privacy? That there - that started in the beginning and has just carried on. Conversely, I feel sad for those couples who have no beginning happening and look like "Why does he/she keep coming home?" Do they remember their beginning? Did they even have a "beginning" or was their relationship some kind of business arrangement?
I am here to declare - I REFUSE to have a relationship that doesn't maintain some beginning in it. Who wouldn't want - at worst an itty bitty bit, or at best a whole heapin lot of that beginning throughout? For those negative Nancys who say it's not possible - I say HOGWASH...AND HOCKEY PUCKS and sentence you to a life of sensible shoes!
I and the the rest of us Beginning Believers are gonna be out here having us some beginnings, looking for a field of flowers (or strawberries, perhaps) for skipping, gaiety and all around merriment! Off we go...
Thursday, January 27, 2011
The Year is Young...As Am I!!!
I LOVE that my birthday is the first month of the year. It's kind of like the rest of the world gets to start anew along with me (except for the Chinese - when is their new year - how does that exactly work for them?). Gosh, I started digressing within the first sentence...but that's how my mind works. It's all over the place up there. AnThow...had a glorious holiday season, right up there with Mary, Joseph, Jesus and 'nem. I hadn't hung out with my Mama that much in ages and it was cool to just be in her presence and be utterly amused by HER musings!
I had so many revelations on that nearly 3 week trip to KC (won't be doing THAT again - WAAAAY too long to be away from MY space and my bed.
1) I don't live in KC any more. I'm not just visiting DC - this is where I live...my new home...my new sacred space. Yep, that's me all right up in this District. As soon as I got home, I started rearranging furniture. I just MIGHT make my deadline of having every box unpacked by March 31st!!
2) My daughter is 21. I have raised her. She is grown! I'm now just an advisor (and ATM). That girl that used to love rocks and pens and watermelo (she never could get meloN) and bawling eggs (boiling) and playing in her tent and Reading Reptile and her Granny's house is now a grown woman who can order a cocktail! Mazel tov Girldaughter and bring Mama a shot of tequila!
3) On January 8 I turned 47. FORTY SEVEN YEARS OLD. I am now closer to 50 than 40. In my 40's, yes - but LATE 40's. I feel like I've been saying 47 a lot more than I EVER said 46. I really don't mind aging because it means I'm still here and frankly I have no choice! Age or die. I'll take aging. But then I had a moment where I was asking myself all those silly questions about am I where I imagined I'd be blah blah blah. Really KT? You are where you are - LOVE IT - LIVE IT - LAUGH AT IT (especially laugh at it cause funny stupid ish happens to you every single day). That passed and I skipped on about my business.
4) Which brings me to my resolutions.
I had so many revelations on that nearly 3 week trip to KC (won't be doing THAT again - WAAAAY too long to be away from MY space and my bed.
1) I don't live in KC any more. I'm not just visiting DC - this is where I live...my new home...my new sacred space. Yep, that's me all right up in this District. As soon as I got home, I started rearranging furniture. I just MIGHT make my deadline of having every box unpacked by March 31st!!
2) My daughter is 21. I have raised her. She is grown! I'm now just an advisor (and ATM). That girl that used to love rocks and pens and watermelo (she never could get meloN) and bawling eggs (boiling) and playing in her tent and Reading Reptile and her Granny's house is now a grown woman who can order a cocktail! Mazel tov Girldaughter and bring Mama a shot of tequila!
3) On January 8 I turned 47. FORTY SEVEN YEARS OLD. I am now closer to 50 than 40. In my 40's, yes - but LATE 40's. I feel like I've been saying 47 a lot more than I EVER said 46. I really don't mind aging because it means I'm still here and frankly I have no choice! Age or die. I'll take aging. But then I had a moment where I was asking myself all those silly questions about am I where I imagined I'd be blah blah blah. Really KT? You are where you are - LOVE IT - LIVE IT - LAUGH AT IT (especially laugh at it cause funny stupid ish happens to you every single day). That passed and I skipped on about my business.
4) Which brings me to my resolutions.
- I am going to skip a WHOLE lot more. Besides being fun - it's gotta be good for my heart rate, right?
- I am going to make up great songs in the shower in the morning. How can I possibly get mad at a day or have a bad day when I have an original hit on my heart.
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