Tag Archives: blog

gone fishing

1 Aug

I know you don’t know what happened. I know you don’t know where I went. But I am here. Quiet, but here.

 

I am thinking so many things.

1) It takes a long time to get over someone.

2) You are the only person that can give someone permission to hurt your feelings.

shout outs

7 Oct

because you each have a little piece of my day, and I love having you in my life, even if you don’t know it!

For ideas on where to take Jesus for dinner, and quarter life crises

For puppy love and fabulous self-deprecation

For lessons in patience & hope

For all-around blogger awesomeness

For yellow dressers

For being my first blog that I fell in love with

For reading hungry

For the comic lover in all of us

ignoring you, ignoring me

27 Apr

I have been ignoring the blog. Not sure why, but it seems like the cool thing to do (Ben, Julie, & Jersey Girl) At least they came out of their droughts gracefully. I cannot say the same for myself.

A few things have been on my mind.

One: Refuses and I: not made for each other, not lasting past August. Still gonna hurt, though.

Two: Salads have never looked more unappealing, despite delicious looking dressing. blah.

Three: College would be easy. Can I go back?

Four: I wish I could save some money. I need a non-bias third party to look at my finances and make me a budget. I spend money on stupid shit, and need to pay off those credit cards. Thanks Obama for helping me with SOMETHING.

Five: My life has never looked better so I am pretty much preparing for the worst.

Six: WHY THE FUCK DO YOU ASK SO MANY QUESTIONS?

Seven: Has anyone ever taken a self-defense class? That is something I would like to check off my list.

Eight: To go or not to go the blogger meet up in June. I haven\’t registered, I can\’t find a cheap enough fare, but I feel like all you 20SB people are just what I need. Anyone going from San Diego?

Nine: 19 more days left until this hell hole of a job is over and I get to start my new one.

Ten: I feel better already. Thanks, Internets.

Farm this.

26 Aug

There is a pattern. I quickly became obsessed with Pioneer Woman after reading her love story. She single-handedly renewed my faith in love.

Then there is Penelope Trunk. She is smart, funny, and fabulously sensible. The story about her and her farmer was amazing and I quickly gobbled up every tidbit she divulged. I just downloaded her audiobook. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Then as a result of all my farmer research (via following these two women), there was an ad that popped up for Farmersonly.com.

Yes, I did. I clicked. I was curious.

Then I realized that is never something I will ever again admit to doing. EVER.

home run

4 Jun

I have a baseball date tonight, and I can only hope it turns out this well.

haunting heroine

30 May

In response to jersey girl.

I do not envy where you are. I heard your jumble in my head all day at work, and couldn’t help but lay it all out there. You are the voice in my head, not more than 2 years ago. I remember it like it was yesterday.

Your “jumble” was my two page Word documents that I saved to a secret spot on my computer, where no one could find them. I wish I had them now because I would show them to you. Proof that, over time, your jumble will unscramble itself before your very eyes. You will look ahead for a sign, then backwards over your shoulder towards what you have grown to love, and then again straight ahead; watching as the road you are on takes shape in front of you. Only then will it be clear, not a moment sooner. And you won’t even need to ask where or why. Instead you will follow it. Because it is the only thing, at that moment, that feels right.

I took that road. Only then did people tell me I was right all along. They knew he wasn’t for me.

I took that road. And to this day, it is the ONLY time in my life I felt truly crazy. Like my own thoughts were betraying me, my reasoning was off, and I couldn’t trust what was swirling around in my own head.

I took that road, but not without looking back. I estalked, I tried to find out everything I could about him, but I did it from a far. Because talking to him would have hurt him more than I already had; and I loved him more than that. I chased every car that looked like his, and dreamed of the day when we would serendipitously cross paths in our hometown.

I took that road, and knew it was the right one.

Even then, when I found out he had a new gf six months in, I collapsed in the shower and cried as the water refused to wash away the hurt.

I took that road and I would do it again, in search of the right kind of love.

reeling to be real

1 May

My mind is reeling and it is late, but I have to go to bed. I have been reading up on PR and Marketing and recently came across a job opportunity that I am going to apply for.

After doing some snooping, I discovered that there has been a lot of talk in the industry, and with this particular company about reputation management. (no links because I am trying to stay under the radar)

I use this blog more as a journal for myself. And then I read a post where the author said that the best blogs are the ones where you say what you need to say, and people will love you for it. So I have been doing that on my blog, with regular frequency. However, I kept in anonymous as a result of being in the education industry, and as a result of me being very frank in my blog posts. I didn’t really need to see my blogging connecting in any way with the people who actually knew me. Because when I started, it wasn’t about connecting with people who knew me, but rather finding people in similar situations and making a connection with them, through one medium.

How, then, do you merge the two together?

I had a revelation of sorts after reading the post for the job, and another about reputation management. These people are doing exactly what I love. They are taking my favorite part of college, exactly where I left off, and running with it. I admit, they are light years ahead of where I am on thinking about it, but it fits.

And I want to fit in with them. Badly.