Oscar The Grouch

Ok, so some days call for miniature pity parties–especially when hormones, a reoccurring injury, and a wedding invitation are afoot. It happens. No one is perfect.

As I commence to having a 10 minute pity party, I asked a friend of mine why no one is even tempting to look in my direction (correction: there was an old barber guy who called me baby once). After a few moments of silence, she responded with the dreaded 4 words no one likes to hear: Can I be honest? Uh-oh.

She said, “You don’t give off….’hit on me’. You give off ‘don’t you say one word to me or I’m going to cut you’.” Apparently, the energy I give off (in waves obviously) is that the human race is a bother to me and it disrupts my space. If this is the case, it means I am putting up walls and armoring up to shut people out. The fact I can recognize the train wreck before it happens is a sign of growth–but, err, how does one correct it?

Have you ever had a mental out of body experience? Things are happening, you see them happening in slow motion, but you have no idea how to stop them there things? Well, the walls are being constructed and the armor is being slipped on and I feel incapable of stopping any of it. What to do? What to do?

Yesterday, I ended the 10 minute pity party with an apple & dark chocolate. I knew not what to do. I suppose I will just try to consciously not be so Oscar the Grouch like and more reformed Grinch (you know when his heart grew 3 sizes that day). It may take a few glasses of wine, but I can make it happen 😛



People show you who they are in the beginning. What version of yourself are you showing? The rough and tumble persona you toss out into the world is not your genuine self. The over the top people pleaser or the insensitive straight lace isn’t you either. We all have some sort of armor to sport day in and day out, and most of us wear it well. Who would you be–who could you be without it? You may be a little rough around the edges; you may be a tad-bit over the top or even a little too straight and narrow, but showing off the real you is what makes this journey come alive. You are vibrant, awesome, extraordinary, beautiful, wonderfully made, creative, loving, caring and, yes, you do kick ass. Why hide those remarkable things? Show them off to anyone who happens to be looking in your direction (and even those that aren’t). Let ’em get an eye full of that remarkable you.


Mind Games

Remember the whole Heels & Lip Gloss thing? Yea, so, I have come to the conclusion it is all pretty much in my head. Silently, I am having this whirl wind love affair with a guy who probably thinks I’m nuts for giggling whenever he walks into the room. I mean, sure, his arms have man veins and his hands look all strong and junk and yes he’s tall and he definitely looks dashing in a uniform…but what else is there?

I know this dude not. He could be a complete asshole or a wimp or a dog, yet when he walks into the room or speaks to me (as if I am his school teacher, mind you) I can’t help but blush. Hell…I’m smiling right now! But it is indeed all in my head.

I am uncertain if he really knows of the attraction–I doubt it. When we do happen to share the same space there is tension in the air, not a negative tension–more like a shy kind of what-do-i-say tension. But perhaps that is all in my head too! Maybe when he is waiting for the microwave or looking in my direction he is thinking about how random I am or wondering why I laugh so loud or why I seem to find menial tasks to do in the kitchen. (Seriously–does it take 10 minutes to wash a fork?) Either way you slice it, it seems to be all in my head and that’s ok. A girl’s gotta have something to look forward to, right?

In all honesty, it is fun. It is an escape from the reality which is my life. For just a little while I get to be the object of someone’s pretend-all-in-my-head affections. As it stands now, if he did ask me out I would probably hold my breath until I turned blue. What would I do? What could I say? How would I handle it? In my head he overhears me talking about taking in a Braves game and asks me if I would like to go this weekend. Of course I answer with a surprising sexy cool laced with “this is purely platonic” answer. In my head we never seem to talk on the phone or go out on an actual date but he does ask. In reality, when we are sharing space I never say a word. I fumble and speak quickly. So, just imagine if he actually flirted with me for real and did, indeed, ask me out on a date. (Do people do that anymore or is it just penis pics and phone sex?)

Silly, I know, but it’s keeping my silly self entertained. It keeps me giggling and smiling and imagining something better. It keeps me in heels and preparing what to wear the night before (as opposed to 15 minutes before having to leave for work). I have found the joy in pencil eyeliner and playing with eye shadow again. No, a man, imaginary attraction or not, should have no bearing on how good I feel about myself (which it doesn’t really…I am pretty kick ass if I do say so myself. Let’s all clap for growth), but it makes finding the new me a little more fun. Who can argue with fun?


Freestyle Friday: Balls To The Wall

As things go in life, we change. The world is ever changing. Things grow and die, are born and reborn. Material things are lost and spirits are found. Most of us are living in this vacuum of social media, television, news stories, and budget crunches. What would happen…what could happen if we lived most of our days B2W?

When I first heard the expression balls to the wall (expressed here as B2W courtesy of typing laziness) , I giggled to myself a bit and filed it away with other witty sayings such as ass clown and ass hat. I still pull those out from time to time due to frustration or lack of appropriate language, but it wasn’t until I opted to tri did the B2W expression actually mean something.

I mulled it over, said it a few times and let it wash over me. I am still uncertain as to who or how it came into existence (or what it really means), but, from what I gather, it means toughness. Get wild. Go crazy. Carpe effing Diem bitches. Smash some stuff. Push until there are no more obstacles in the way. Take chances. Throw your spears/bow & arrows in the air and scream in a pre-victory victory cheer while your opponent watches dumbfounded. Go balls out, grab em (whether you gottem or not), and strut like youarethe(wo)man.

Upon mediating on it at 1 a.m. (on a work day no doubt), it hit me that 85% of Life should be lived just like that. I won’t say 100% or even 90%…we are human and a 0-10% margin for error clearly isn’t enough–for this chick anyway. There is evidence of people who live their lives this way. You see them in movies or in magazines. You hear about their death defying feats and read about it in their rise to stardom. There are some real life examples all around you every day. Look at them. Study them. Figure it out and then break out.

Bills are due? Eff em. Car is breaking down? Screw it. Baby Daddy tripping? Eff him too. Job not going right? Walk out (ok, wait…don’t do that…just call in sick maybe). Let’s go do something that matters. Let’s jump out of airplanes and climb mountains. Let’s drink beer and eat pizza at 8 a.m. Let’s get in the car and drive nonstop until we run out of gas. Let’s flirt. Let’s run. Let’s dance naked. Let’s scream. Let’s ride a roller coaster. Let’s dance and sing terribly. Let’s love. Let’s just go all out and when it is all said and done–let’s wake up tomorrow and do it all over again.

Life should be lived, yes? Lived boldly, do you agree? Me too. That’s why I am going to give it a good ol’ college try. I am going to throw my proverbial balls right into that wall and go ham….uhhh…right after I pay my overdue water bill. Standby.


I Choose Favor

A colleague of mine sent me a text one day and said while she enjoyed the FB posts, she felt as if I was riding too heavily on the “I don’t have” train. She told me I should speak positively and expect all that God is readily presenting me with. The next day, she posted an inspirational word from Joel Osteen about…well…what else? God’s favor. For a week after that I was inundated with the numbers 11, 111, and 1111. When I woke up at 1:11 am I decided I had had enough. What gives?! After some careful research, people who believe in Angel Numbers, feel as though it is (if I may paraphrase terribly here) the Universe taking a snapshot of your thoughts and bringing what you are thinking/wanting to pass–and quickly. It doesn’t take long for me to get it (except in this case…it took me like a whole week). I choose favor.

So how exactly does one choose favor? My guess is that you just do. You wake up with the spirit of expectation and you have the faith to live in it even if nothing comes from it. God is all around us. For those of us who are more enlightened than others (think Tolle and Zuchav), our spirits are already open books. For those of us who are a little less enlightened than others (yea…you can think of me in this case), the world (or devil–whichever you prefer) has a good old time shutting us down and making us cry in the corner of the shower (or is that just me). And while I do believe life is about more than the black and white of things, in this case there is no gray. You either live in His world or you don’t.

For the past few weeks, I think I have been choosing the latter–subconsciously that is. I mean really–who consciously chooses to live in a fog of ‘can’t won’t shouldn’t wouldn’t couldn’t don’t’? I think what happened to me was the waiting out the ready–the transcendence of flesh. We have discussed this before–my mind and my spirit are 10 light years away while my circumstances and flesh are still struggling to catch up. It is hard to believe in positivity, divine expectation and favor when you struggle with something you can feel deep down inside but not touch. Quite honestly, it is hard to believe in much of anything except plain old black and white when you have a quarter of a tank to last you 7 days and $5 in your pocket for the next two weeks. It is harsh to be in a constant fight for your life when you are being attacked and misread and misused by those you thought were suppose to love you.

An old friend of mine told me recently I was a lot stronger than I gave myself credit for. I think about that often. I suppose that is why when the colleague encouraged me and my angels decided to tap on my shoulder at 1:11 am, I chose to fight. I am a fighter, after all. It is what I seem to have done always.

I won’t promise to always be the most positive chica in the bunch nor do I promise to make it to enlightened status.  But what I can definitely say is when things stop working or when I can’t pay rent or when all I can do is imagine the more, I will choose favor and just hand it over to God and let Him work it out. He always does…I should no longer be surprised.


Tri-ing to Feel Alive

Yup…tri as in triangle or tricycle or, in this case triathlon. Divorce, baby daddy’s, bad decisions, and being a little light in the pocket can lead to big wishes and even bigger leaps. Ohhhhh boy…I think I am just about to make a humongous leap.

This conversation is not really that new. I tend to have it often…once a year it seems. I get this really huge idea, post it, blog it, blab about it and there is a 50/50 chance it materializes. Kinda sucks for me…makes me look a little loony. This time, however, is going to be different…it has to be different.

Crossroads sorta suck. Being stuck at one sucks even worse than actually coming to one, noticing it and passing by. When you seem stuck in transition and at a crossroad, crazy shit turns into amazing ideas and you begin to make foolish, rush decisions to evoke some type of feeling.  Joy. Fear. Curiosity. Happiness. Pride. Rage. Accomplishment…whatever the outcome of the crazy, you like it…you need.

This decision may be induced by the feeling of wanting to actually feel alive again…alive for Sadie May not for others. There’s a difference, you know. Being and feeling alive for self is different than being and feeling alive for your children/spouse/parents/siblings. There is a confidence that comes with it–you walk differently, talk differently, love differently. Suddenly the air is sweeter and the world is yours for the taking. No one can compare to you. Youarethebest. You live and breathe a world full of chances and choices that bring a special kind of excitement and wonder into your life and it spills over into the lives of those around you and suddenly you feel the vibration of life beneath your feet and you become…unstoppable. No dream too big. No mountain too high. No crazy idea unearthed…you are alive.  I am chasing the alive. I am chasing that alive.

There was a moment, recently, when I tasted it and it happened when I crossed the finish line of the Peachtree Road Race, having run the entire 6.2 miles. Nothing was going right at home, the energy was off and apparently my husband had stopped loving me at that point. All of the confusion, all of the pain, all of the hurt, all of the stress I poured into the push and I conquered demons, monsters, and the 6.2 miles. When the finish line came into view I broke down into tears–salty streaks of emotion mixing with the sweat of the heavy I carried the entire race. Something broke inside of me at that moment. I tasted what I could do if I allowed myself to give into the push.  If I moved past the flesh and pain. Iwasalive. I was alive.

There are plenty of ways I can touch that feeling again, but this is the one way I plan on reaching it and never letting it go. I plan on leaving the mistress, the divorce, the brokenness, the hurt, the despair, the failure, the selfishness, the disbelief, the stupidity, the bitterness, the anger, the arguments, the dependency, the arrogance, the lack and the allowed disrespect behind for good. I plan on rising above all I thought I knew and who I thought I was–who I made myself out to be and giving into the push. I will run my way past pain, swim my way past what was, and bike my way to something–someone–better.  Yup…I am going to give it a tri no matter what I have to sacrifice. I am going to tri…and I will succeed.


Inspirational You!

You are an inspiration. Did you know that? People are watching what you do and it inspires them to do it too. It might seem like you are not getting far or doing well, but to someone watching from afar you are showing courage just by doing what seems impossible. Even your toughest, darkest moments are inspiring because you don’t break. You arm yourself with faith and make it through despite the challenges you face. You may fall short and stumble a tad along the way, but you continue to stand tall and believe. Don’t be surprised by those who stand idly by and watch what you do–they know that if you can, they can. You are the catalyst for change. Now that is amazing.


Freestyle Friday: Rock Candy For The Ladies

dwayne-johnson-the-rock-11After seeing the previews for Hercules lately, I found myself surfing the web looking for one D. Rock Johnson just to see how big he’s gotten for the role. His latest big is a little too big for me, but this suites me just fine. Ok…ladies…can we say “yum”?  That is all. Happy Friday!

Heels & Lip Gloss

One of the things that makes me unique (as far as I can tell anyway) is that for being a woman–a lotta woman–I am not very girly at all. Sure, I have moments of lets-get-pretty, but for the most part, I would enjoy my time on Earth a lot better if it could be spent in tight jeans, sneeks, and a baseball cap daily. I prefer Fast & Furious over chick-flicks, naked toenails over pedicures, and loud smokey sports bars over romantic candlelit dinners. This is not to say I am the only woman on Earth like this, but when most guys find out I am…they are often shocked. Go figure.

Overall, I am feeling rather good about myself these days (except for the weight thing–what a monster bitch that is) and I am finding the good in attracting the opposite sex again. After The Split, I really had no desire to be looked at, attracted to, or talked to by anyone with private parts that swing. But, now that things have settled down and single life is growing on me, I am ready to play.

Enter in Cute Guy #1. I see him regularly and often I am quite confused as to whether or not he’s crushing slightly or not at all. Sometimes he speaks and sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes I will catch him looking in my direction and sometimes he won’t even look at me. Sometimes I get a flirty “hello” (to which I answer with a nerdy wave *sigh*), while other times I get a business like nod.  This week, as an experiment, I decided to put on some lip gloss and heels (5″ btw) just to see if the energy changed. The outcome: me feeling desperate and him still being weird.  Epic….fail…well, maybe not…the crackhead who cuts my grass said I was a very pretty lady sooooo….I’ll take that.

Perhaps it feels as though I am grasping at straws because I would prefer to be in flip flops and a night gown. Or perhaps the straw grasp feeling is all in my head and I actually look like a normal office working woman. Either way you slice it, tomorrow I am dropping the lip gloss and heels and wearing slacks and flip flops letting my naked toenails see the world.



You are brave. Not because you are armored with false protection, but because you are marvelously flawed. You aren’t super human. You aren’t bullet proof. You aren’t perfect. You are faulty and fragile. You walk into the world, not with it’s weight on your shoulders or it’s hand at your back, but with a knowing that you are simply human. Your heart may be broken, your goals may seem too far out of reach, your home may be divided, and your stress may be through the roof but you press. You open the door day after day, you rise every morning, you move beyond your circumstance. You push beyond those limitations, faithful that you can do all things. Therein lies your courage and it is breathtaking. Cherish your bravery–you earned it.