My Protection.

Sometimes you need a really great talk with a
long lost friend, mostly to clear your head
and vent away some things.  

That's what happened last night, with my friend I've had for 5-ish years.   It's a weird relationship, her and I.  We've been friends and I know she would do anything for me, but I see her maybe once ever 3 months.   Yet, she still knows how to make me feel like the most important friend on her list. 

We got some ice cream and sat outside and talked.  And talked some more.  And talked some more.   About love, life, and the pursuit of happiness.   

And I realized, that I'm not a lover.  I've got big giant walls that I don't let down.   Relationships are fun for me, and I like to feel safe and comfortable.  But, once I get to a certain point I pull away and I put my guard up and I leave before he can leave me.  I run before he can hurt me. 

I never realized I did this until last night.  
And I never realized why I do this until last night.

Jess:  "Do you think maybe it has something to do with your Dad?"
Me: Stunned.  "Ohhhhhh."

Why haven't I thought of this before?
Of course it does.  I've got anxiety about the men leaving in my life.  So I don't let myself get attached and I protect myself from being hurt.  I leave before they can leave me.  And in some twisted, messed up, distorted way, this makes sense to my heart.  

But to my head,
it makes things much worse.

No Plates, just Necklaces.

Background story:  I've been looking for something to hang my necklaces on for 100 years.  They have just been hanging on a hanger in my closet for a while.  Real annoying.

But THEN, I went to SLC with sister.

We stopped at the thrift store and found some awesome little things to put your plates on.  Since I don't have any plates of my own, I'm using it to hold my necklaces.

Voila!

Breath of Fresh Air.

My newest follower, Firefly.

I just checked out your blog and I'm almost certain we are soul mates. Your wit is contagious and your humor is therapeutic.

...and I'd be lying if I said I haven't been
reading your blog for the past hour and a half.

Stalker?

Absolutely.

For Callie.

Most days I love being with my friends.
I love being out and I love getting dressed up.

But, from time to time, I just like to be me.
I like to be alone.  I like to write, I like to clean, I like to lounge.

I like to take 1.5 hour long showers and sit in my pajamas all day with my hair in a ridiculous looking du-rag/bandana and not have anyone judge me for it.

I like to cry.  I like to sit.  I like to think.  I like to stare.
I like to not smile if I don't want to.  Not pretend to be interested in other people's stories.  Not worry about what other people are thinking, or wanting, or needing.  Not worry about anything but Callie, and what she would like to do, say, be.  

Today is a Callie day.
...and tomorrow will probably be one, as well.

And, I'm more than okay with that.

Sleepy Jean.

I just took a five hour nap.

Does this still constitute as a nap?
..or small coma, in Dane Cook's case.

Following the Leader.

Hellllllo, Firefly.

Welcome to my lil' blog.
...so nice of you to stop by.

500.

Post number 500.

I'm awesome.

and you're awesome for reading.

Following the Leader.

Libbbbby,
Welcome to my blog.
I followed yours forever, now you're following mine.

Love it.
:)

Diet.

Before my cruise I weighed 125.
Got down to 120 for my cruise.
Now, after my cruise, I weigh 127.

Crap.
...back to counting calories with my trusty iPod.

Sexy.

Someone told me today that
I was "sexy" and I had to laugh out loud.

Sexy is not a word I'd use to describe myself.
Definitely not.

I've always thought of myself as a tomboy, still.
After all these years.   

I know now that I'm prissy, with makeup and hair done and jewelry on.  But, inside I'm still just a tomboy with buck teeth and a 1/2 grown out perm.  

Definitely not sexy.

So, flattering as that compliment is, I don't believe you.
But thanks for the confidence boost.

Lazy Wins.

Just paid off my debt to WSU.
$75.00 worth of parking tickets.
...only because I was too lazy to wake up early
and find a good parking spot.

Awesome.

Bachelorette Spoiler.

Bachelorette Recap:

Firstly,
Thank heavens Casey went home.  If that boy said one more thing about "guarding and protecting Ali's heart", I thought I would punch the TV screen.   Seriously. 

Secondly,
How stinkin' cute is Kirk?  I fell in love a tiny bit with him when he poured out his story.  Even made me cry.  Of course, because everything makes me cry.

Thirdly,
I think I'm a lot like Ali.  I focus a lot on my career and my success, and I push love aside.  Then, once I'm ready for love, I'm afraid of it and I guard myself so much that I don't let it happen.  

...and that's pretty scary.
And dumb.
But mostly scary.

Father's Day.

You never said "I'm leaving",
You never said "Goodbye."
You were gone before I knew it,
and only God knew why.
A million times I needed you,
A million times I cried.
If Love alone could've saved you,
You never would have died.
In life I loved you dearly,
In death I love you still.
In my heart you hold a place,
that no one else can fill.
It broke my heart to lose you,
But you didn't go alone,
For part of me went with you,
the day that God took you home.
-Unknown.

God bless my Father on Father's day.
And God bless other Father's.
...and count your blessings if your Father is still here.

Love you, Pappa Bear.
Miss you.

Mormon Look-a-Like.

Everywhere I go, someone always tells me I look Mormon.
Or when I get to know someone, they say:

"When I first met you,
I thought you were Mormon."

Please, someone tell me, how do you LOOK Mormon?
...and why do people ALWAYS think that I am one?

Explanation.

This is what happens every time I come on blogger.
I sign in with a great idea for a blog.
Something I find really intriguing and in desperate need to write about.

Once I'm logged in, I see there are new blogs I need to read.
I read them.  Sometimes I comment.

Then, I forget what I was originally going to write about.
And I sign out.

Hence, the lame no-post blog I've had lately.

Friends, quit being such a distraction.

Confession.

Confession:
I'm too scared to try the new template for blogger.
I haven't even looked at it.

Mostly because:
A) I might hate it.
B) I might love it and spend too much time on it.
C) I don't have time to blog.
D) I really like my header right now.

So, deal with my old-fashioned blog for a while.
Until I feel brave.

Thanks.

Cleaning.

I felt the need to spring clean my room, after an 8 hour shift and 4 hours of sleep.

Excellent idea.

My idea of spring cleaning is taking everything I own and throwing it into the center of my room.  Literally, everything I own.  I empty my dresser drawers, I throw everything off my shelves, I take everything out of my closet.  Then, I re-organize.  It's really become quite therapeutic and I tend to do it when I'm most stressed.  
Or bored, in this case.

Well, after spring cleaning and re-organizing, I have an entire dresser drawer full of purses.
An entire drawer! ...and my drawers are big.

I also found a swimsuit cover-up that I'm using as a du-rag because my hair is at an awkard-can't-pull-it-up stage.

Awesome.

When The Anger Leaves.

Last night, I had a weird talk.
...and it got me to thinking a lot about my Dad.

It's been 19 years, in July, since he's been gone.
19 years and I still haven't grieved.
I've only scratched the surface.

Google says the stages of grief:
1. Denial.
2. Anger.
3. Bargaining.
4. Depression.
5. Acceptance.

I'm between denial and anger.

I realize he's gone, but I still have this bizarre idea that he faked his death.  That maybe he is out there walking around, living a life that I know nothing about.  Maybe he has other kids, another wife, a different family.  Maybe he knows me, watches me, sees me. 

Then, I remember that he is dead.  I remember his headstone. I remember the cemetery.  And I feel mad. I feel angry.  I feel jealousy.  I feel hatred.  I feel hurt.  I feel pain.  

I know that this is normal, and I know eventually I'll work through it.  But, I'm afraid to.  I'm afraid if I work through the anger and the hurt that I feel towards my dad, I won't have any other feelings about him.  If the anger goes away, I am afraid there won't be anything left of him.

I don't have memories of my dad.  I don't remember anything about him.  I have nothing but pictures, and a lot of anger.  What happens when the anger leaves?  I'm left with pictures of a strange man that I don't know. 

...and that really scares me.

Eyes. Lips. Face.

Friends,
I need to tell you about something.
It's called E.L.F. and if you haven't heard of it,
you are missing out.

This website has makeup for ridiculous prices.
$1.00 for foundation, lip gloss, nail polish,
powder, brushes.  Everything.

It's all a dollar. Sometimes $3.00.

And it's good makeup.

REAL good makeup.

I just ordered a ton of stuff,
found a free shipping coupon and only spent $50.00.

Serious.

Give it a go.

I dare you.

Here is the link.

L A G O O N.

It's raining.

...but I'm going to Lagoon.

Because I refuse to spend my day off inside.

Toodles.

Growing Pains.

The new do I want.

...just a little longer.

...and a little blonder.

...and a little cuter.

Don't let me cut my hair.
Ever.  Again.

Harry Potter.

Well, I've decided to give Harry Potter another try.

I read 1 and 2 and a little of 3.
Then I decided it was D U M B.

But, 7 years later, I think I'll give it another go.
Apparently book 4 is really great.

...We'll see.

Tonsilitis.

My tonsils are humungous.
and I kind of want to rip them out.

I took out my own stitches.

I think I could handle taking out my own tonsils.

It's the same.

Right?

Dreaming of a Brand New Baby.

Last night I dreamt I had a cute, tiny little,
brand new baby.

And she was a girl.

With a flower headband.

...and I left her with my mom while I went to work.

And when I came home,
she had turned into a puppy.

So heart broken.

This is why you shouldn't leave your brand new babies at a day care.

They turn into puppies.

Love.

Confession: 
I miss being in love.

I know I say this alot, but love is a whirl-wind of emotion.  A crazy, exciting, upsetting, curious, thrilling, uplifting, hurting, loving, accepting kind-of-thing. 

Love is like a car ride.

You get in, your excited. You're off to a great start.  You're moving along, enjoying the scenery.  Listening to a good song, jamming out.

You get going further and further, set your cruise control, roll your windows down and put your foot out the window.  You're comfortable, you're relaxed and you are enjoying the ride.

And then, suddenly, you get into traffic.  Things slow down.  You come up onto a wreck and you can't move.  You're bumper to bumper and your stuck.  You want out, you want to be home, you want to be where you can breathe again.

And you see the wreck, and your heart breaks.  You realize what caused it all.  You wonder what it was like, moments before with your cruise control.  You wish for that back and you search for an open road to cruise again. 

...and then, traffic breaks up.  You can breathe again.  You can see a way out.  You feel released and you feel like you can move on. 

You can search for another great song,

and go back to enjoying the really great scenery.

Eeeeeek.

My most favorite time of the summer is here.

PRIDE weeeekend.

Oober excited.

Can't wait to party.

and can't wait to see sister.

...and lots of handsome gay men.  

Words of Advice.

If you ever want it to rain,

just wash your car.

Works like a charm for me.

Nephew Kisses.

This post is really for me, just so I don't forget.
But read along if you'd like.  It's a cute story.

On Memorial Day my family decided to go fishing.

Awesome.

....I had to work.

Not awesome.

So, everyone was here packing up and ready to head out.
Mom. Sisters. Neice. Nephew. 
...not me.

As they were heading out the door they hollered goodbye.

and then I hear little footsteps
up the stairs and in comes my nephew.

He says "Bye, Callie.  Love you." 
and he kissed me on the cheek.

He's 9 and way too cool to ever kiss me or hug me.

but on Memorial Day he did and it made me melty.

Heart Breaker.

I lost a follower.
What a sad day.
...lil' heart broken.