My Normal Life

You Are My Person

I really don’t think I can say this enough, but I love you. I still have no idea why. I know that I love talking with you for what feels like forever, every day, always about nothing. I love lying next to you at night, helping to put you to sleep. I love just looking into your pale, blue eyes. Yet, I sometimes still feel like I don’t know anything about you. I know your middle name. I know when your birthday is, I think. You are a Cancer, so I do know that it’s sometime in June. The 30th…or the 29th? Oh, crap.

The picture that you sent me the other day is what made me realize how much I really love you. I mean, come on, I just moved 3,000 miles across the country with you! I looked at this certain picture, looked at your smile and I could feel my smile creeping its way onto my face. I could feel the warmth in my cheeks beginning as I looked into your eyes, almost as if you were really in the room with me. My stomach was filling with the same chills that it had filled with the first night that I felt a foot punting me into my behind; when I turned around, it was you, introducing yourself to me on our very first date.

I sometimes sit on my chair or lay in our bed, imagining what our children would look like. I know, one of them would for sure, have blue or hazel eyes, dark blonde or light brown hair. They could be total computer nerd, as much as you deny that you are one. I know that one of our children will know how to cook, a skill they will gain from you. While another will be more of an artist, thankfully being more like their mother. One will, more than likely, want to be the center of attention at all times, and another will skulk all day long when things have not gone their way. I do know that all of our children, however many we have, will be the most helpful people they are, skills they have gained from both of their parents. One will be so negative about the world, pouting in their corner and another will be the cheap one, saving their allowance in their cute little, purple piggy bank.

Yet, when those conversations are trying to be brought up, a wall seems to be put up on one of our paths. Love, children, sharing the same name has been brought up in our relationship, yet when that time in our life is trying to be discussed, you sink back into your farming. I know this path in our life is not cheap, each penny you feel the need to pinch at. I know it is a big hump that we will have to work on. It is one that I am willing to devote a big portion of my attitude towards. Not to mention, we live in Vegas baby. There’s a chapel down the street, haha.

It all comes down to the last person you think of at night. That’s where your heart is. My heart that I am willing to devote towards you. I know that life is tough, but darling, I know that you are as well. Maybe we just need to let shit go and start over. Just try to erase all that we were talking about today, as hard as I know that will be for you. You can’t let one tiny little dust particle that upsets you off your mind for two hours. Besides, I need to listen to you drone on about it, complaint after complaint. Then, I sit and I listen, because I love you.

I sometimes believe that you are the definition of negative. At times, I have a difficult time not falling off of my positive path. Nevertheless, when I sit and listen to you complain about one tiny thing that has made you upset for a half-hour, it does bring me down a little. So find a way to uplift my spirit!

I know that I can make you smile. I leave you alone when you come home from work. I do welcome you home with my hugs of love, I can never stop wrapping my arms around you. I learn that you have a lot of fun when we go see our Elvis on Friday nights. We get to have a good time with the ladies that you work with, not to mention I get to gaze upon the glory of my new teen-crush (I love you more.) Yet, as soon as his last words are singing, your grey cloud returns and I do not know which path we are supposed to continue on for the evening to make your adorable smile continue.

Just keep that cute smile upon your face, my love. For I will always be the arms you can come to, even if you don’t need a thing.


My person

My Normal Life

An ENGLISH Teacher!

Growing up, all throughout school, I wanted to be a teacher. I had watched all of my favorites, all that inspired me and I wanted to be them.

My sixth teacher is the one that pushed me the most down that path in life. She would never let me give up on anything that I would be putting my mind to, no matter how much I wanted to. There was a downing point in my life during year that occurred between typical preteen girls that I thought were my friends, and she helped me through that with more than a “walk it off”. She aided me through the dark days.

When junior high was my next step in life, I had an amazing English teacher, who would push her students. She was seeming to point me even further in which direction I would go.  More than just our grammar, she would tell us which road might be calling us; fiction, non-fiction, science fiction. She wouldn’t tell us that we were wrong, she would assist us in inviting a reader into our minds.

Then, onto the more difficult years in my life, High school, I came upon another teacher, who helped me onto the dived trail, in case maybe I wanted to help the future youth about not only English, but maybe the dramatics. Ah, theater. I could now pretend to be what was on my mind. I now knew that it was okay, to not be real. My director, taught all of us, that singing, dancing, showing an audience that we could be who was on our minds; that was another path in my life.

I finished these twelve years with a big cloud of hope hanging over my head. I knew what I wanted to be; an English teacher, an English teacher, I knew that I’d be an English TEA-cher (only a few of you were in that play). But then, the doors burst open upon me into the college world. When I set foot into that, auditorium, of the first years teaching class, I felt my heart sink deep into my stomach. My first class of the day, Intro to Teaching, was filled with 300 students. And this was just the AM class.

As the three professors began to explain the program to us, with 300 people that were surrounding me and the three professors below explaining how this program worked, my dreams began to sink. They explained how the teaching program excepted only 100 students. There was another Intro to Teaching class, which I assumed was just as full as this one. We may only be excepted by a few various schools through-out the state to begin along our paths of Student Teaching. This just made me think in the back of my mind that I had no chance; I may never be a teacher. No person really listened to me when any words came out of my mouth, so why would a 13-year-old want to learn from me? I trudged through the next six months with my head hung low, my dreams shattered.

When I returned home at the end of semester, I decided I couldn’t go back. I had no chance at being a teacher. I would continue my education, though. There were still local schools all around me. For what I had had, my mind endured no idea of what stood on the roads ahead in life. Going over my community colleges Winter classes, I looked over what sounded the most interesting. Of course, I chose the normal math and science that were required. Then I saw one that looked a little cool; Criminal Law and Administration of Justice. A bubbled popped over my head, “I could be a lawyer!”

The first week of this class, I couldn’t feel more comfortable. As grumpy an old man that my professor was, I loved it. And I understood everything he was talking about. I could grasp upon all of the Michigan Law he would gargle about for three hours. The words he spat at us, they stayed in my mind and I could argue back with no shame in my heart.

I continued on for the next three years, realizing that I had to change lanes into the legal assistant field. It’s all really a lower level of paralegal. Diving further into this field, I began to love learning more and more about all of this. It also made me realize how good I was at arguing and winning. So, maybe an English Legal Assistant I will be. Bam!


My Normal Life

A Cancer and Pisces

You know you love him when you’re willing to leave the Great Lake State that you were both born and raised in to start your lives all over again in the Silver State, just so you can see his scruffy face every day. Moving in with each other is one big step in life, but moving half way across the country, that is an entirely major one. I love him, as much as we disagree every day, I love him.

Water signs pay attention to every person, place and thing around them. They remember everything they see, hear and smell. A dynamic duo in the zodiac world; Cancer and Pisces. In the zodiac world, a Pisces and a Cancer are 85% compatible. Cancer and Pisces are both deeply romantic and sentimental. These two signs love hard, so when you play with their emotions, be prepared for consequences. A Cancer will be in control while the Pisces will provide the emotional support. When Pisces gets scared, they fail to tell the truth, even on the silliest of things because they feel the need to distance themselves from pressure. Whatever the situation, both signs will be patient enough to trust each other for the relationship to work out. Pisces always have something to talk about, and this can be good or bad for the Cancer, who feels the need to deal with REAL information. Cancer can understand the sensitive nature of their Pisces better than anyone else. Cancer feels, rather than listens, which makes them a perfect companion for Pisces.

Cancer and Pisces are typically brought together by romantic love. Cancer is usually not aggressive or pushy, that I have learned he hardly ever is. Pisces has a tendency to create intimacy and a happy home, which, since this big move with the man that I love, I have been trying to do for him. The two water signs connect through emotion, usually as soon as they lay their eyes upon each other. I feel that is what we did on our very first date. There was something inside me that told me not to let him get away. I have made that mistake a few times on our road, but I’ve been able to reel him back in each time.

The biggest challenge between these two signs is perhaps how changeable a Pisces can be. Other than changing just my pants, I know that I can, in a lot more ways, never make up my mind.  A fine balance would need to be made between excitement and stability, then these two could be one of the most wonderful couples of the zodiac world, Cancer inspired and Pisces with a feeling of home. Whatever situation they’re going through, both will be patient enough to trust each other for their relationship to work out.  And I do trust him.

Financially, Cancer plans for the future, he builds some security, while Pisces is unlikely to be interested in such endeavors. When it comes to the both of us, this could not be more right. As soon as five dollars is given to me, I run to the store to blow it away. When a penny is given to him, he tucks it away for a rainy day.

Cancer views that Pisces is a partner who will absorb their mood and ensure they both have the same mood. They need to make sure that this is the partner that will always understand them. Most of the time, I do understand my Cancer. These two signs are an intuitive, affectionate and caring match. Both can be deeply romantic and sentimental towards each other in so many inexpressible ways.  They intuitively understand each other in so many ways. For Pisces, her Cancer is a lover who is a very emotional, moody person. But Pisces needs someone who can read them and react accordingly, which my Cancer can do better than any person I have ever known.

These two water signs connect through emotion, usually as soon as they lay eyes upon each other. They remember everything they see, hear and smell about each other and my Cancer always smells good. I know that he is my perfect crab and I am the gold fish meant for him, so us two water signs can find our pond to live in, as difficult as that might in our new lives in Nevada.



My Normal Life

Change is Coming

She discovered the definition of her life, when she was laying in the sunlight. That night she would wish upon a star that everything would be fine. She knows that somewhere in this world, someone is going to fall in love with her. He’ll just walk up to her and say, “Baby, I love you. We both know, there’s nothing left to do. Just, please, tell me everything is going to be alright?” She knows that she keeps letting everything get her down. Not anymore. By doing this, all of her sad feelings have disappeared. By doing this, it makes her know that someday, she is going to find him.

When her mind was made up, she saw him last week, at the post office. Him being a red head is one that will never be forgotten. That blazing, ruby treasure upon his head is the kind that is always stuck in one’s mind. She had laid her eyes upon him and just gazing at him had given her the thought that the world was alright now.

She knew that when her time came, the time she may be leaving this world, she would be thanking him for all that he did for her in life. She always had the most fun being weird with him. They would be the only one’s dancing around the bar to the classic 80’s music randomly selected from the jukebox. There would be nights that, just looking into his eyes, she could show him what he wanted to see.

She was in her driveway on Friday night. She just sat in the driver’s seat, wriggling her keys through her fingers. She wished that she could get the car to start. She really wanted to drive to his house tonight. She felt deep down inside, that she needed him. Something inside of her mind was telling her that she needed to almost swim through everything around her, not only for her family, or her friends, but for him the most. She gave up and went back inside the house.

She was starting to wonder what happened when she closed her eyes at night. Was he there? Was he lying next to her? She could almost feel his soft skin with her hand, right next to her body. She knew now, that she was going to find him, even if it took all night. She stared up at her ceiling, with so many thoughts racing through her mind, him being her number one priority. She could see his soft, smooth back end, the first thing she had laid her eyes upon. She wanted to walk up to him and begin just rubbing her hand slowly upon it before she could smack it as hard as she was able to. She knows then he would whimper with pleasure.

“Mr. Blue Sky,” she began. “Please tell me why you are hiding him away. Why are you now hiding him from me? Why can’t I find him?” She liked to refer to her ceiling as that. It made her feel that she was actually speaking to whoever was above. She knew she needed help finding him.

Searching through her bedroom, she found her journal. She had forgotten she had one of these. The night they had had their first date was the night she had felt that she hadn’t needed to write in it anymore. She sat down on her bed, grasping the purple paper with green shimmering stars in her hand. Before she even opened it, she knew what all was inside. It would all be pages of her scribbles speaking of no love in life. She would be speaking of the lonesome road she had been lost upon in life.  For that is what she had felt. For 28 years, she had felt so alone. No person was on her path in life, searching for her.

Then one day, she knew that tomorrow would be a little kinder. A brighter day might be coming her way. She pressed the remote to turn on her radio, her old school punk record began to play. She laid on her back as all the music began going to her heart. As he began to appear more in her mind, rainbows seemed to brighten in the dark. She was going to make it through this year, making him love her more, if it killed her. Her past is already being forgotten.

One night she had had a dream that she walked into the coffee shop that she frequented every Tuesday morning. When she walked up to the counter, expecting to say good morning to her regular dark, frizzy hair coffee guy Jose, she saw him. She could not stop staring into his blue eyes. She could barely get her order out of her mouth in one single breath. When his fingers grazed over her hands to take her card, she was startled awake. Telling this dream to her mom and sister the next day, neither one believed that this was him. He was just a dream.

Going to get her normal morning cola the next day, he was standing at the counter, waiting to pay. When he didn’t realize, he was standing next to her in an empty crowd, she then knew that she loved him.  She could feel all of his heart leaking off of him onto her. As she inhaled his deep, smoky scent, her eyes closed remembering their first date. She knew after this, there could never be enough cigarettes to calm her down. Before he could leave, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips as hard as she could to his. Before he even realized what was going on, his coffee fell from his hands.

She pulled away from him with a smile on her face. “Baby, we can run away together. We can spend some time together. Forever,” she spoke into his wide eyes. She knew change was going to come.

My Normal Life

A Few Things to Lose

I am beginning to realize that if at first I don’t succeed; maybe I can change my underpants and I’ll be able to try again. I will not always be perfect. I need to be brave in this life and keep pressing on.  Life is tough and I can be, too. I need to stop hating myself for everything that I am not and start loving myself for every little thing that I already am. Stephanie; quit slacking and make all that is rambling on in your head happen! I am slowly working on myself for myself all by myself, and I know that I will come out glittering and fabulous! I will be somebody that nobody thought I could be.

Sometimes I really do think, “screw this…. I will just be a stripper!” But then I remember that I am fat…and I can’t really dance. I get out onto the floor and try to wiggle my big butt around with the bass that is pounding from the speakers. Shaking my ass is the closets I can come to actually dancing. I feel like all eyes are on me, I am center stage, and that I need to put on the best performance that I have inside of myself. If I fail, I sense that’s all I will be remembered as: the fat girl who can’t dance. If I can be on that floor, wiggle all that is inside of me until the end of this horrible song, I will be known as a retired Taylor Swift back up dancer.

Then I remember 315. That is a big number. It’s also the biggest that has appeared on my scale in these past few months. One would think this number would be my motivation to lose this big butt that I sing about at karaoke every week (I cannot lie.) It is not, though. I really have none right now. I don’t like my pants. I do wish I didn’t have to re-stretch my t-shirts after I wash them. I still make the same wish to my fairy, who seems to have been on vacation for the past twenty years, the same wish when my head is on my pillow at night: I wish that when I am awake in the morning, my weight on the scale will be what I want and every person in my life will think that is how my body has always been. Or I hope that it will be so simple for me to lose five pounds in one day, even if I just sneeze. Or maybe, I should just ask my fairy to finally motivate me to get off of my fat ass and actually try to do what I have been wanting my lazy self to do for these past six months; lose 100 pounds. Even to just lose 20 pounds. For, once I lose 20 pounds, I will be inspired to continue on to 5 more and then 10 more and then 20 more until I have reached my goal.

However, you all need to leave me alone about it. I do not want to do any of this when I feel like this topic is brought up and shoved into my face every day. I need to motivate myself. I need to force myself to do this. I should want to do this. I have so many reasons why I already miss this, though. I want to be able to climb up a flight of stairs without hunting around for an oxygen tank. I hope to walk into any store and begin to look all around, being able to choose from all of the clothes that are upon the shelves. I wish to be able to sleep in my boyfriend’s favorite t-shirt. He smells nice, so I would want his scent to linger upon me.  I want my life to be so simple. But nothing seems to be so easy.

When I’m just wasting days on my computer, reading through my Pinterest for suggestions on how to shred these pounds, yet still continuing to sit upon my butt, I find other interesting topics that keep my mind happy and drawn off of this matter in my life that seems to keep me in my deep, dank hole. At times, the random facts I always stumble upon always help me to get through these days. I always ponder if life is too short. I found that is false. It is the longest thing that I do. Is there really love in the air? False. Nitrogen, oxygen, argon and carbon dioxide are in the air. I have always wondered if it is darkest before the dawn? Nope; incorrect. Best possible darkness occurs at roughly two am. Growing up, we were all told that the United States is the land of the free, but, that is false. The USA has more prisoners per capita than any other county in this world. Is home really where the heart is? Another false. The chest cavity is where the heart is. “Shoot for the moon, even if you miss, you will land among the stars.” Wrong. The nearest star is 93 million miles from the moon. Is love all you really need? False. You need water and rations.

These were useless pieces of nothing that I need, but they make me feel that I have added to the emptiness that is filling my head. This emptiness that seems to fill my head is what I always believe how my stomach feels. I eat breakfast, lunch, dinner and other snacks in between, yet my guy can eat breakfast and wait twelve or more hours to eat dinner. I know that I could wait, but I sometimes wonder if this my body wants me to do. Mostly, I’m sure I eat out of boredom. So, I know that I need to change all of this.

I wasn’t picked on when I was younger. I consider myself lucky. I know that when growing up at a certain age, any girl is subject to bullying. I never really had too much trouble walking up to other children and just joining in on the fun. I did feel like I was supposed to have a boyfriend while in high school, I felt the only reason no guy responded to my smiles was because I wasn’t the same shape as every girl in the school. I still did not let myself sink into that hole that I knew was trying to drag me down. I joined the school’s theater club to help me on my happy path.

In my world, I felt awesome.  I was able to be up on that stage in a theater group. I was able to make so many friends being involved in this that I have lost count. These were real friends, too. These are people I am still in touch with fifteen years after our last day of high school. They did not judge me by my round butt, or wide hips. They did not care that fat hung off my arms or that I had to buy my clothes in the adult woman’s section. They liked me for me.

Even in my older years, since 32 is such an old age, I am still able to do this. I have my days where I critic the way I look more than I’m sure any other person around me is even doing. I think I’m more judgmental now about my appearance than I was in my younger years. When I am getting ready to shower, I will stand and pick and pull at every piece of my body in the mirror. I will stand and mentally tell myself that I need to change what is in front of me. I need to get rid of this piece and that piece. Even though there is a person in another room that I know loves me for me, I still feel that I need to wake up the next day and the body that I have been wishing for, for the past fifteen years is what I hope to see in the mirror. I know this will change. I can feel it.

eat lose weight

My Normal Life

Does Anybody Ever Know What Time It Is?

As a Stephanie, I am a person. I am spiritually intense. My name brings love and new stars into life. I do feel that I have more love for people or whoever’s, no matter how much they aggravate me. I do tend to have an exciting life, if I do say so myself.

I have always known I have artistic visions. I am a writer, after all. So apparently, I can pass that off to my name. Along with those visions, I am always looking for an opportunity to do research of the unknown. Hold on a second while I go retrieve one of my books about a haunted dwelling. Maybe I, a Stephanie, will also one day figure out what the meaning of life is. Perhaps this would help me grow wise and to understand people more.

So then how do I become a writer when I can’t even begin to write out all of these other ideas that are in my head? I want to write how Brian and I met and fell in love. I want to write about how a group of fat girls gathered together, created fake profiles as good looking skinny girls, then began to murder the boys who had rejected them. That is the idea I want to have the most fun with, yet I have no idea how to begin it! I try to make myself sit down and write. I want to make myself write! I want to be a writer! I have so many ideas from my Pinterest. Stupid Pinterest. I have my phone remind me every three days, I believe, to write, yet, when it goes off, I do not abide by it. I just ignore it, as I have been doing when it beeps at me to exercise. How am I supposed to write about all of these ideas in my head when I can’t seem to motivate myself? I can’t seem to think about where to start. Where did all these authors begin? Did they start at those first words in the books that are sitting upon my shelf?

It doesn’t matter what I write about. No person will read what I have to say. No one on this Earth even listens to me, so why would they read what I even write about? I could walk into a room, filled corner to corner, shoulder to shoulder with people, wriggle my way up onto the stage just to be ignored as I was shouting through a megaphone that there were free tacos at the bar. So why would anyone even want to read about what I have been doing these past few months? No person would even read what I did yesterday. I could fall off of a cliff and no person on this planet would even notice.

My life is still standing. It’s all in one piece. Why do I even write? Does anyone, other than my mother, even read any of this? If you do; please raise your hand. I need to be acknowledged in some way. I need to not be ignored. You may say that I’m not, but I often feel that I am.

I am ignored in more ways. When I think plans were made between me and somebody, my excitement begins to build as that day approaches. I repeatedly glance at my phone, expecting a reminder or a mention of what we had spoken of a few days prior to this date. Then, when that day arrives, my phone is still empty, my messages still ignored, my emotion of loneliness and aggravation begins to rise inside of me. Zack, my poor stuffed zebra, begins to endure the pain of me squeezing out all of these irritations into him. Poor little guy. My phone is empty. My life is empty. I am empty. Like I had mentioned above, I could leave my life and no person would notice. I sometimes want to.

I should do that one day. Just disappear, like my ideas for writing tend to do. If I had a better car, I would just hop into it just to drive anywhere and everywhere without mumbling a word to anyone. If I had the ability to venture away from my pharmacy for more than 30 days, I would do this. Yet, as I am one of those individuals who cannot go a single day without taking their medication I feel like I can’t venture far. Well, in a way, I can, yet I would just be on the floor, arms and legs swinging around from side to side, my mind having no idea who any person in the room was. Not that I ever do, even now.

I could be in a room with other people, talking to some of them, when suddenly another one feels that what they have to say cannot wait a single second longer so they must explode into the middle of my conversation, drawing all attention away from me. I can’t seem to get attention back to me. When I try to, word over word, take over; nothing. I can’t even try to begin a new conversation when there are a few seconds of silence. I begin to speak, yet when another person does and BAM! All attention is on them. So I just slink back into my dark hole.

From my dark hole, I saw you guys were having some fun this weekend. From all of those pictures, it looked like you and a group of people were having a spur of the moment gathering. Haha; was your phone broken? I can understand if this was a family gathering, but when I catch a glance of people who I do usually see at a big, planned event, I can almost feel my dark hole calling my name again. Especially when I know I had called you that night.

Looking around my bedroom, from my bed that I feel there isn’t really any reason to get out of these days, I am beginning to see things that I don’t feel is belonging to me anymore; my life. I am feeling there is a giant magnet somehow pulling me back to my younger years. Not that I’m old, but I am not supposed to be able to make my own decisions without being required to clear it all with the warden first. If my plans are to be out for the evening, I must have a minute by minute detail of where I will be, what I will be doing, who I will be with. I am beginning to feel as if I have a curfew. When I do come in at the wretched hour of three am, I must sneak past my parents OPEN bedroom door. How do I know they’re really sleeping and not looking at the clock, waiting for me to wander in?

Yet when I seem to write about any of this, no person will ever know. So, I’ll just keep it all shoved into my overflowing mind as I continue to sit alone on my couch. Las Vegas, here I come.

I am a writer


My Normal Life

Reading Into My Future

I am not afraid to admit that I am a believer in the deeper side of life. The other side, if you will. I frequently visit my physic when I am able to. I need to know why I am not on the path I feel like I am supposed to be on. I need my questions answered and my tarot cards can answer them for me. When I am unable to see her, I sit on the nights of the quarter moon and do my own readings. This last one that I did makes me feel that I am finally doing all that I need to be doing to be happy in life.

The first card represents me and the issues that are surrounding me. I had drawn the Four of Swords. This card represents an inner retreat that I am currently taking. My present situation is very difficult and I may be in the midst of much turmoil. The swords on the wall symbolize my previous battles and the sword at my side represents my current conflict. I will soon be taking up that sword again.

The two main issues that are surrounding me in life are money and loneliness. I cannot seem to be in control of them. I just waste through my money as soon as I get ahold of some. I see a penny, I pick it up, wishing that it turns into a pot of gold. Along with this pot of gold, I hope my soul mate that I keep thinking has been lost on his path in life will be the one carrying it along towards me.

The swords that are on his walls represent a current conflict I do feel like I have been dealing with for, probably, the past two years; the man I cannot seem to fall out of love with. I love him, the next day I don’t. Two weeks later, I need to see him, but then he exhales wrong and I can never speak to him again. I believe it’s the Pisces and the Cancer in the both of us; we both need to be in charge, neither of us can take advice or knows how to pay attention to the other, then when this happens our levels of aggravation rises to a ten. This I the conflict on my road in life that I need to run away from.

My second card represents my behavioral patterns that are influencing my love life. I am a very different person; never the same. This card had been the Seven of Pentacles. This is the card that represents a sense of dissatisfaction that I feel with the results of a project that I have recently completed, maybe in my workplace or in my life. This card makes me feel that my workplace is still fairly new and I am still very nervous the days that I am out. I am a little jittery about the tasks I am given on those days. I worry that I will not complete them, or I will take far too long for the doctor that I work for. He needs that lab work as quickly as possible so that, for one, he is not working until midnight and also so the person who the tests are for gets their results.

Though, despite the less satisfactory results from this Seven of Pentacles, I am glad when any of my jobs with him are over. I am grateful that I now have time to relax, which is all I’ve been doing all day anyway. I still feel that I could be doing more, though. This card can be a warning against perfectionism and a sign that I MUST sometimes step back and just let go. This card shows that my behavioral patterns influencing my love life are showing me that I need to relax. If I get this high strung or nervous at work, then I can only imagine how I am as soon as one person has a crush on me. If only they would tell me.

My third card represents the area’s that need further growth in order for me to find love. I had drawn the Seven of Swords. This is the card that makes off with my enemies’ weapons, but not all of them. Some of the swords remain, which are evidence that the war is not over. Maybe these are the swords that I can use to press on in life to fight for my battle on this road of love. The Seven of Swords acts alone, which does indicate that my present situation is not over. What is currently going on in this path that I have been dealing with for the past three years I WANT to be over with. I really do. This is what the purpose of multiple break ups are for. The warning with this card is not to get too wrapped up in mental games, one-upmanship and petty battles that do not solve battles. I need to take the high road. So perhaps, this is a sign that I just need to press on, and just ignore his calls and messages, which is a lot harder than it may seem.

My fourth card represents the areas I need to change or process in order to find love. I drew the Two of Wands. This card represents opportunity. AH, the perfect card that I need to find love! This card shows the balance with which I approach my goal. There are few cards with the red rose and white lily combined. Combined, they may symbolize the balance of thoughts and desire, the lily being the thought and the rose being desire, the balance of the head and the heart. Together they represent pure or unconditional love.

The man, looking out at the sea, suggest there is a trade and could indicate a strong partnership and alliance. I am in the early stages or prosperous enterprise. I can step outside my comfort zone and explore a new world. I just need some courage to do this. I have courage. If I can walk up to my favorite, big black security guard at my favorite bar and give him my phone number, than I am a lion.

My fifth card represents the areas that need to be liberated within myself to allow love into my life. I had drawn the Five of Cups. This card suggests that I am upset over a loss or disappointment. I cannot think of anything that I have lost lately in my life, though. The three cups spilled at the man’s feet in the picture indicate the losses that I am experiencing. But how can I be experiencing these if I haven’t lost anything? My keys? They’re in my purse. I still have my job. I suppose it could be money, but that is my own, juvenile fault.

I may not be aware of the strong support system that remains indicated by the two cups still standing. My friends and loved ones are offering their support, but I am focusing too much on disappointment. I know that I am always like this. I never accept assistance. I always focus on how a project is going to fail more than how it will succeed. I get this from my dad. There is a river in the image that suggest troubled emotions that are making me feel lost. I am cutting myself off from the joy and love associated with home. I feel that I am just trying to be an adult. I still live with my parents, so how am I supposed to be one?

I need to notice the bridge isn’t too far; it can lead me home again and into the arms of love.


My Normal Life

I’m Pressing On

So, again I gave my number to a really nice looking guy the other night. Then, I came home, kicking myself on the inside for doing that. A woman doesn’t give a dude her number. Well, not most of the time. The guy is supposed to have more balls than the woman and walk over to her to begin down their road to happiness. Yet, I am usually the Juliet that has to tell Romeo that he seems to have missed a turn or two.

I walked over to this nice looking brute as my evening of singing to the bar had come to an end. I had drank enough of my sorrows away so I needed to brighten up my evening. I only had the idea of getting to know Mike a little further because we had been chatting quite a bit that night. I was being drawn into his Lions hating, programmerish world. But, two days later, my phone remains empty. Jerk.

This makes me wonder that maybe I am missing a piece of a puzzle in my life. Perhaps that is why I am stuck on this lonesome road. Can I not just use duct tape, or staples to hold that hole together, so that I can just move onto the more important issues I need to be dealing with? Super glue can work for everything, too.

I mean, come on men! If I have no problem walking up to you and introducing myself, flirting the night away, once I handed you my number, don’t make me feel like I wasted my time. I could have walked over to guy number two if I would have known that YOU weren’t going to give me the time of day. One date is not going to kill you. Or, you could have given me the old “thank you, but I’m seeing someone” excuse instead of making me ice cream my sorrows away as I sit by my phone for days waiting in anticipation. Jerk.

Whatever his reason, I press on. I obsess over my dating sites, my hope level set at a three. I don’t want to keep it too high, just so I can fall back down to the rocks of glass in life when I receive no response from the eighteenth dude that week that I had sent a “Hey!” to. Receiving no response, I press on. My road in life will never end, alone or not, I press on.

Rejection Green Road Sign Over Storm Clouds

My Normal Life

Have a Nice Life

I know that my life will get better with time. I feel like I’m going to hurt while I’m healing. Even though I really love you, I know that I will smile because I deserve to. So, maybe things will get better with time. Even when I turned on my television, a commercial would remind me of you. I would just put aside my feelings. I know there is no more you and me, so I know that I can be free. I will get better with time. I know that if we ever had to switch places, and I was a guy, I would know how much it was hurting you to be losing me. It is a little too late for you to come back just to tell me that everything between us  was just a mistake. If you thought I have been waiting for you, you have been thinking all wrong. All of this time, I have been wasting, all you do is let me down. You think everything will be fine again but definitely not this time around. You don’t have to call me. I know that we’ve been apart and back together, again and again, both of us falling in and out of love. I am trying not to be someone who can walk away so easily. But, I am giving up. I thought I had been learning to love, then I started feeling so small. You know that I did love you. But I am done.



My Normal Life

When This Girl Walks In…

The other day, we had another argument. We seem to be having them more and more. I’m beginning to feel like it’s all my fault. But they have their own faults. My pants. They seem to be getting smaller and smaller day after day. Either that, or my hips are getting wider and wider. I think it’s the latter. I wanted to throw my beautiful dark grey dress pants in the trash when I felt more bloated than ever while attempting to zip them up. I felt as though my hips were about to explode.  I love being able to wear them, having no need to very often. I am in need of my jeans more than anything. They are more comfortable, but as I have been saying, my dress pants have been losing more weight than I seem able to.  Though, once I take off my jeans and put on my pajama bottoms, that is when I begin to look more pregnant than my friends. Having this big butt does not help either. I do love my big hips at times, but I would much rather have the same size and shaped bottom that my sister has; flat.

My body seems to want to suck in every single fat organism that is on this Earth. I know, I know; I can change this. I can get off my ass, quit drinking cola and do it all on my own. I can have the surgery I have opted out of twice. I can do this. But I don’t. I continue to eat my fast food. I go to my 7-11 everyday. I eat my chocolate. My ass falls asleep everyday because I do not get off of it. Where is this motivation that you all speak of? I seem to have wandered off of his road and am unable to find my way back.

Oh I know; perhaps I should just use this previous speed dating I decided to go to for the eighteenth time as a big kick in my ass to shove me down this road of health. This past event did nothing to burst my ego. Ten lucky, single men had their opportunity in life to travel down my sole mate path in life and none of them chose to spend more than five minutes of their lives with me. Perhaps it was the pants I had chosen to wear that evening. I believe I had worn my dressy, tight denims. I wear those when I know that it was a casual/dress event. Apparently none of these computer-holics like big butts. Apparently, they were expecting their stick, thin super models that they all fantasize about having while they stare at their computers every night. It’s called reality, you Nerdfergasins! Not all of us woman on this planet are a size 2!

The average American woman weighs 166 pounds. Michigan is ranked the tenth most obese state in these United States. So come on men; get your heads out of your asses and look past my stomach. Look deep down inside my rolls; I am awesome. I am nice. I am funny, helpful, cuddly. I like to play board games. I like to cuddle. I like to pretend that I know where I’m going when I am the driver, then ignore you when you’re trying to give me directions. So maybe there is one of you out there who can look past these big hips, for as shallow as I can be at times, once I get sucked into your boring conversation about whatever you might be talking about, I can look past all of what you have on the outside and see who you are deep down inside.