Wow...

It's so hard to believe that it's been 7 months since I've blogged. This year has FLOWN by. Ridiculous...
In the months since I last wrote, I've:
Gotten divorced. Check.
Traveled to Europe. Check.
Had my 10-year high school reunion. Check.
Lived alone. Check.
Started dating. Check.
Played A LOT of softball. Check.
Joined a fantasy football league. Check.
Done some "L-I-V-I-N." Check.
Stopped watching so much TV and started living life myself. Check.
Went kayaking. With sharks in view. Check.
Met A LOT of great people. Check.
Had a lot of fun. Check, Check!!

It's funny how the scariest things in life often open doors that lead to the best things in life...
No time to complete this thought now, but will try to do that soon...

Little Monsters

Last night I was hanging out with some friends at Hooters, when another friend comes in with his kids in tow. The kids ranged in age from 9 - 12 years old, which I didn't initially give much thought to...I actually really like most kids. They're typically silly, funny and real. I appreciate this about them.

So I'm sitting there, making random conversation with these seemingly nice little miniatures: "How's school?" "Do you play sports?" etc., when all of a sudden the ringleader of the group busts out with, "Your mama's so stupid, she went to work for an M&M Factory and got fired for throwing out all the W's!"
Before I could even gather my thoughts, the next kid looks at me and jumps in, "Your mama's so fat, she walked in front of the TV and I missed three commercials!"
Oh my. Funny, but still...oh my.
But the real kicker was when the innocent baby girl of the group - 8 years old at the most - joins in the fun, "Your mama's so fat, she walked outside wearing a yellow jacket and the sun said, 'You win'.

I was "Your mama" tag teamed by these three little monsters. But I'm a good sport. I laugh. Whatever. Until the ringleader jumps back in, "You're kinda fat. Well maybe not fat, but fluffy for sure." And then he threw a gang sign at me!

So at this point, I'm just over it. I'm not 12. I don't have to take this crap! YOU'RE FLUFFY!! (These are the thoughts that are going through my mind as I leave the table and join some other friends at a big-boy table, sans the gang sign- throwing, mama-insulting, name-calling monster squad.

It was at this point that I was fully reminded why it was that I hated elementary school. And why it is that I'm a little scared to ever have children...

Powerful...

"God doesn't give you the people you want, He gives you the people you NEED - To help you, to hurt you, to leave you, to love you and to make you into the person you were meant to be."

This came from an email that I just received from my mom. And it comes at a time when I need it most. I've been holding off of mentioning this via world wide web, but I think it's time to put it out there. Kevin and I recently filed for divorce, and by the time I turn 29, I will be single again.

It's been a scary/sad time, to say the least. But I just have to keep reminding myself that things sometimes happen for reasons that we don't always understand. Maybe in time, the understanding comes too.

Thanks, Mom, for the reminder today :)

Own It.

I have a confession to make.
I'm obsessed with Perez Hilton.
Pause for astonished silence from the crowd

And today, my man Perez ran a story about Jennifer Lopez going to the Golden Globes sans wedding ring. When asked about the possibility of a divorce, Jenny responded that "Divorce is not and never was an option."

Now let's just take a second to contemplate this statement. Because I'm thinking it's a bit on the ironic side when coming from somebody that's on - oh I don't know - marriage number three!!
J. Lo.
Honey.
I'm not trying to judge you. Divorce happens. I get that, believe me.
But you saying that divorce is not an option is like Oprah saying that binge dieting is not an option. It's like Sienna Miller saying that extra-marital affairs are not an option. Ri-to-the-diculous.

I'm just saying - do what you do, but OWN IT, sister! I would have more respect for the girl if she would just be like, "Oh hell yeah. I'm divorcing his skeletor-looking ASS!" That would be a statement I could appreciate. Yes ma'am.

Giddy Co

I just booked my flight to Spain.
SPAIN!!!
Would it be inappropriate to let out a mild squeal?

Yick, Yack, Yuck!

I have a dirty old man who now makes a habit of coming in to my office for apparently no reason at all. And every time he comes, he asks to see me. And every time he sees me, he gives me a hug. Not just like a sweet, thank you hug, but more like a wet-kiss-on-the-cheek, bear hug while telling me that he'd kill to be with a "beautiful woman." Gag.

Today, he came in just to check the status of his claim. Nevermind that he could call me or even call our national 800 number to check the status. No - he waits in our lobby for his turn to come back to my desk. And he's there for all of 30 seconds while I check on his claim and tell him that there's no change. We're still waiting on a decision. He knew that before he ever got here. Hell, he only filed his claim like a week ago.

I thought I'd be smart today, though, and stay seated behind my desk while he got up to leave - hoping that would stop the inevitable wet-kiss-bear-hug. But no, he stood up, walked around my desk with his arms outstretched. Again trying to stop the inevitable, I stuck my hand out to offer up a handshake. But the dirty old man grabs my hand, kiss/licks my hand, and says "You know that's not gonna do me" and pulls me up into his crazy bear hug.

Gross. Grody. Nasty. STOP KISSING ME! STOP HUGGING ME! STOP LICKING ME, FOR THE LOVE! And if you're going to wet kiss my hand or my cheek, at least leave behind some antibacterial lotion or something. Jeez. Somebody should go over office etiquette with him, I swear.

Pay It Forward

So I have to recant on my blog posting from yesterday.
Because I was talking to one of my best friends, Tracy, and she told me a story that reminded me that there are really good people out there who still do really good things for people. Real-life Santas, if you will.
Yesterday, Tracy was at HEB buying food for their holiday party, and a man in front of her began a conversation with her. They talked for awhile and then he paid for his groceries, told her goodbye and left. Tracy walks up to the cash register to check out, and is informed by the cashier that the man ahead of her had left a one hundred dollar bill with instructions to pay for Tracy's groceries.
Tracy, being totally caught off guard, grabbed the money and ran outside to find the man. When she did, she thanked him but told him that she couldn't accept his money. The man told her that it was his Christmas gift to her, and that every year he looks for somebody special to help out. Because she was so nice to him, he wanted to help her this year.
Tracy went back in to finish checking out, and decided that since somebody had helped her, she would take the gift and share it. So she used $50 toward her groceries and gave the other $50 to the sacker, who's also really nice and has worked at HEB for years.
Anyway, because of my Debbie Downer posting from yesterday, I figured I should share this story. It reminded me that there are great people out there who just want to spread happiness and joy. And that's special.
Even when times are hard, or holidays don't seem as special as they used to be, Christmas still represents the birth of the man who made the greatest sacrifice that anybody has ever made for others.
I'm sorry I temporarily forgot that yesterday...