Table Seven

My Frenchie Advice...

One of my most dearest {I know, terrible English} is heading to France tomorrow so I offered her unsolicited advice on the vocabulary that got me through Paris, Nice, St Tropez, Marseille & the south of France... Below is an exerpt from our email exchange {and also an example of all the things that might be wrong with me, but at least I am honest.}

...I am going to share with you what got me through my Frenchie trips and things that you all could say to endear the Frenchies to you. No promises, but it bode well for me...

1. Oui -- PRONOUNCED: wheeeee! -- which means 'YES!' & say it with a smile.  Even if you have no clue what you are agreeing to - it helps you to fit in.  And you can 99% of the time figure out the disaster that you agreed to before it gets real out of control. 

2.  Merci -- PRONOUNCED: mere-see -- Thank you. If all else fails, keep saying Merci. You can say it with a smile or with a confused face and usually they will feel sorry for you and probably just start speaking to you in English because they can and only do for the Americans that have barely tugged at their heart strings with sheer lack of knowledge.

3. Absolu'mon -- PRONOUNCED: ab-sole-lou-moh {n is silent} -- which means 'Absolutely'.  Always said in the greatest accent I could muster alongside my hand passionately waving in the air  -- like what I imagine a French painter to do with his hands for effect once he completes his masterpiece. It usually made the Frenchies laugh and that was important as it was usually said right before they were considering spitting in my food or were so highly annoyed at my lack of Frenchie knowledge that they were going to sic someone else on the table or at the tourist desk or would just start speaking to me in annoyed English with a French accent.

4. 'Como vu ti...' -- PRONOUNCED: ko-mo voo tee -- which means 'how to you say...' Usually said in my best Frenchy accent {see the trend?} and a Vanna White-style point at whatever the word or food or object that I wanted to speak about. Ex. Breakfast - I would say Como vu ti and point to the neighboring table's soft boiled eggs, and the waiter would then say 'oeuf à la coque' and then I would say with  big smile: "Absolu'mon! I would like oeuf à la coque! And a cafe au lait. Merci!"

Things I know to be true...

 

• Pinterest is my most favorite, awesome, inspirational vacuum of time. Obsessed!
• There are certain days that will forever be engrained in my memory as nothing short of staggeringly tremendous. 
• All those tremendous days started just like every single other day.
• Celebrate the details surrounding your every day. I've found there is always a reason for a party, there is more-so, always a reason for champagne, toasts  & celebration 
• People that use their facebook status to whine or back-handedly brag about spouses, homes and otherwise non-problems get hidden. Period. Not that everything I post is riveting, but seriously, I cannot take it any longer. 
• I have a love/hate relationship with voicemail - more hate. 
• I think clear bra straps are one of the worst fashion inventions ever. They aren't invisible, you know? Just clear.  
• I always feel better after a workout. Regardless of the pain and inner struggle to took me to get there. 
• Sandwiches taste so much better when someone else makes them for you. 
• Have faith. Sometimes it is all we've got. Sometimes it is all we need.
• If someone shows you who they are, believe them.
• Take or Ask for the picture -- regret follows not asking & rarely will someone say 'no' or be ugly. Just be appropriate in timing and place.
• It is more than okay to be awkward. {Note this is what I keep telling myself.  Also under the misnomer {never been confirmed} that awkward is endearing}
• A movie. Worst first date idea. This close to a deal breaker. I don't want to sit in a $10 nap to not get to know you?
• Greatest compliment received to date - "You're magic" 
• I do love rainy nights
• If I am out on a walk, run or at the park and a random dog starts following me - my inner {non-tone deaf, obviously} voice starts singing Dumb Dog, Why Are You Following Me?
  
• Bruce managed to trump 46; 46 crushed P/A. And I am still trying to find coffee shop. 
• Fresh Cut Grass. The fragrance that it exudes is so spring, and fresh and reminds that summer is just around the bend. 
• If you don't want anyone to find out about 'it' - don't do it {smart Chinese Proverbs}
• This too shall pass. {If I had a dime for how many times I remind myself this in a day...}
• Good lighting can make all the difference. 
• Some people, so simply, are just what crazy looks like on an ordinary day. 
• I have a thing for ninjas. I wish I was one somedays. 
• Keep your eyes peeled, amazing often jumps right in our path without warning. 

FLASHBACK - Oh, Captain! March '98

There are certain photos I stumble upon in the most random places that bring back such entertaining memories. This picture is a favorite that I didn't even know that I had, but found while looking for Christmas lights ... Spring Break 1998 a group of 20ish of us all drove to Destin, Florida where we were lucky enough to stay in a rent house that was basically given to us for the week. We went with bathing suits and sundresses and if memory serves, it rained and was unseasonably cold the entire week we were there. We might have even taken a group field trip to the tanning salon so as not to come home as stark white as we left... {and by saying might, we did ... young & dumb.} 

We spent days and nights playing board games, outlet shopping, and just hanging out. More nicknames were created over that week that stuck than perhaps throughout all four years of college. Guard Dawg, Medicine Woman {that didn't stick, but it still makes me laugh}, Party-ella...

One night we played the drinking game, Oh Captain. You've never heard of Oh Captain - I am not the least bit surprised since I had not heard of it prior to playing and I am pretty sure I never heard it after, either. Basically, you play with an empty can {I am going back a significantly long time, so I could be VERY false in my directions/rules of the game} Anyway, empty can and it is like a baton twirling, oh captain, you have words that you are supposed to recite and certain moves and tapping that is involoved and when your words get tongue tied, which they do more than you realize, you drink. Lucky for me, I succeeded early on. We had people that weren't drinkers that were playing the game sober, we had drinkers that were excellent at the steps regardless of what they had been drinking prior to playing and then there were tears and frustration as well, Lady J might have hid in a closet & Snorris might have cried and said something about how she graduated high school valedictorian...

It should be known that A.those 3 didn't necessarily consume all the alcohol in front of them, B. only one of them ended the game in tears and C. Party-ella remained Captain the longest. I love the old school cans.

overthinking and other thoughts on the straw that broke the camels back

I once read that we teach people how to treat us. At the time, I thought it was silly. Teach people how to treat us. Frankly, their momma should have taught them how to treat people throughout their formative years & life should have reitterated the practice. That isn't exactly how it works, unfortunately. I think mostly, subconsciously, we teach people how to treat us. Respectfully speak your mind and they will know you have a voice. Show compassion & caring and they will know you have heart. Continually say 'I don't care' and well, you teach them that you, obviously, don't care. Stay silent and they often take advantage. Not necessarily, a malicious taking advantage of, but the ability to take advantage is there.

If asked, I would probably tell you that I am the same with everyone - what you see is what you get. True, in most cases, but unfortunately hindsight {eff'ing hindsight} shows me that I tweek to the person ... An irrational, difficult boss & I cowar to try to keep them stable and happy.  Fragile friends & when asked - the advice offered is soft and fragile too, when they probably need a strong voice. Going out with a boy who doesn't want to talk about 'it' and I don't. I like everyone happy & sane & I like people to like me, but that being said, I also don't often mince words.  I share my thoughts; I offer completely unsolicited advice; I speak my piece; I remind someone to speak up and communicate; I show sensitivity while standing my ground. At least I strive to do so...

Which leads me to an unfortunate personality trait known as 'overthinking'  Is that what it's called? I try not to dwell on something, but I will replay the situation in my head to see where it could have changed roads, or outcomes.  To assess where it went wrong, where I could have showed more compassion or stood taller for myself. I never thought much of my overthinking, or even knew of such a perfect word to describe my inner thoughts - and then I was sipping scotch and someone, someone I care about & respect his thoughts informed me that 'overthinking was my problem'

I am no saint, no where near perfect, not the smartest or the prettiest or always right - I make every attempt to be a good person who believes in karma and wholeheartedly wants the best for people. But 'overthinker' I never thought much about. I never thought my overthinking should be considered a negative. He's known me long enough to genuinely know my insecurities & my personality. Knows the background, knows a lot of my fears and has genuinely supported me along the way. In a time when email was scarce {think March of '95} he was the first to send me encouragement when a {long-shot} college rejected me, he pushed me towards a blog - he knows me with history.  And then I overthought the idea of overthinking & he was kinda right.  Overthinker I am, indeed.

The downfall {for me, at least} of someone calling you out on what you are before you ever thought or realized it, is how very thrown off you become...  It silenced me. Worse, I didn't have any kind of response for such an adjective - which was delivered not negatively necessarily, but I automatically took it that way and the wall went up. I had no time to think about the statement so I didn't even really answer back. Rare, but with him when I didn't know what to say,  I just left it hanging out there in the air. 

In an ironic turn of events, I am pretty sure overthinking is what brought me to what seems-to-be last the straw of a sometimes compromised friendship. Not only did I have a crazy, all-too-real {more heart wrenching than dream with my mind playing tricks on me} nightmare.  But I tossed and turned and overthought. Trying to make sense of it.  And when barely prompted, I spoke up. I was honest. Admitting that I awoke suddenly from what seemed real and that I might be overthinking but the realness frightened me. I was raw. I was candid and quite matter of fact. {admittedly the delivery hadn't been thought through & the timing was terrible, but isn't that the case when the straw breaks? We are finally truthful not only with another person, but with ourselves} It was unrehearsed & from the heart. 

To say he didn't handle it well, is putting it mildly. 

I recapped the events with a dearie and was reminded that months ago when I was frustrated mostly with myself for not speaking up, I actually said to my friend something along the lines of I almost wish that the next time I see him, he hurts me. Hurts me bad enough just to stop riding this one person roller-coaster...

I guess the universe was listening. Because the reaction to my unfiltered, brutal honestly was awful. He hurt me. He didn't hurt me physically {sad that I feel like I have to make that clear} but his few words and his actions were unbelievably fascinating.  Hurt in a way that didn't make sense. This strong, confident, successful grown man was reverting to actions of an insecure 16 year old. And I was on the receiving end. Hurt in a way that I am pretty sure is irreversable. Hurt in a below the belt, callous, wouldn't treat an enemy or stranger kind of way. Hurt in a way that shocked me so much, I didn't cry. Not a tear. I was angry. But angry &  hurt {& maybe a little shocked}, I realized in that moment, makes me wildly honest. It didn't make me emotional or scared or unsure of what to think. It was the reverse, it made me take the way I had unintentionally taught him to treat & talk to me and ignore my fear of what he would feel or think. 

It's a hard lesson. I hate the idea that I created the situation, but in a way, I did. I made it ok along the way. I merinated in my own mind on what I could have said. Silently Overthinking. And in a way, lying to both of us. I am not blaming myself. It is another painful reminder of the importance of communication and honesty in all relationships. I should have been the person with him that I am with {almost} everyone else. As I should be with everyone. 

Because of you ...

because of you, I make a point not to park on a sidewalk

because of you, I write a note when I wake up thinking about something in the middle of the night

because of you, I realize that reality television might really be nothing more than "emotional porn"

because of you, I listen to Edith Piaf

because of you, I miss being driven around 

because of you, I genuinely try not to "overthink"

because of you, I think about what I am going to say a little bit longer before I say it

because of you, I pay attention to sports talk radio

because of you, I embrace my unnatural, sincere love for Neil Diamond

because of you, I think about eating fried mushrooms with ranch on random late nights

because of you, I pray more

because of you, I am a more open minded.

because of you, I will treat myself to a little Bailey's on my ice cream {I don't do this often enough & if you've never done it, you have no idea what you're missing!}

because of you, I say it. Out loud. To you, not behind your back

because of you, I take into a account how short life actually is 

because of you, I wonder if a 7-11 hotdog tastes any good {but not enough wonder to actually try one...}

because of you, I try to run

because of you, I love, love, love live music

because of you, I realized that I do have a little jealousy streak hidden deep down inside

because of you, I'm more honest 

because of you, I ask more questions {if it's possible}

because of you, I ask less in certain situations

because of your pushing, I write more

because of you, I laugh a little louder, even at myself

because of you, I am stronger

because you're gone, I am better than I was before

*note that all these you's are not the same man. they each, in their own way, made me a little better. a little stronger. a little less neurotic. chances are, they haven't a clue. 

The {MIS}Adventures of Super DK

My homemade costume. Iron-on letters, glued on sequins, and a latex, waterproof brightest blue cape (which I can say was already in my closet). I am a vision.  And I am pretty sure there is no more appropriate title. {MIS}Adventures.  Somedays are better than others...

Yes, that is my phone sturdy in my superhero lululemon leggings {obsessed, best workout attire ever} - no need for guns, armor, or a sword -- I've never been into violence or fights.  Definitely more of a lover than a fighter.  Anyday.  Super DK is all for laughter alongside work, happy, authentic people, good always outweighing evil and sometimes even some funny little leprechaun friends wearing outrageous little hats. 

*I might have even made magnets of this image for some family members for their stockings... I am not proud, obviously, just honest.

Overwhelmed.

Officially unpacked.  Laundry.  Re-organization.  Expense reports.  New project.  Back into a workout routine. Festivus.  2500+ images to edit & upload & burn discs & mail.  Ugh, I am almost worse at sending mail and all things through the mail than my mother.  Hand washing.  Ironing.  Who am I kidding, I am not going to iron jack.  But I do have plenty of September travel. And not like September party time travel.  How am I going to get back on a plane?  Ugh, Packing.  Whatever, I get dressed every morning and I swear it is as though I have completely lost all knowledge of the pieces of clothing that overflow my closet and I just wear some of the same crap I have worn for the last six weeks.  That is ridiculous.

I have been back a week and I am almost paralyzed, for lack of another word.  I have so many things to do - with work, with catch up, with friends, with new work, with old work, with volunteer work.  I stared at my clothes on the floor in piles (whites, colors, blacks, workout, delicates, handwash, sheets, towels) but I have cleaned them and all but the sheets and towels pile is gone.

I had the tv on while I ate a late lunch the other day and the soap opera that was on had some love tryst (shocking) and one girl was psycho (only the viewers can tell that she is manipulating situations at this point) and it was creating this weird anxiety.  I was staring at the television and could feel my blood start to boil.  So many issues so little time. I should have just turned the tv off, gone back to my actual work...  Not to mention, I have felt like crap, just lousy and tired and it's no doubt partially that I haven't been able to pick up my pieces and get myself together.  Burning the candle at both ends.  Going out, catching up, not sleeping well.

I realize I am being ridiculous.  At least kind of ridiculous. No honestly ridiculous.  You would think I have never traveled before, or had to get myself back in the swing. These are real problems.  Look - anxiety that my anxiety is stupid.  At least I could have it worse and have real issues.   Sometimes I catch my idiosyncrasies coming to the spot light - I suppose I should be glad that I can recognize them, but in truth, they fester and create this odd underlying apprehensiveness that I know is there and I know how to move past it, but I am a little stuck behind the apprehension wall and behind the fear and angst, creating this uneasiness.  And I know there is an answer.  And not just an answer, but one that I can control and yet I have sort of lost all the wherewithal that I know, with every ounce of my being, that I am capable...

Definitely guilty of talking to myself, giving peptalks, calling out that I am watching the wrong things, putting myself in 'situations' that are creating this silly stress and overwhelmed self.  And I will find the road out.  Sooner than later, because well I have no choice.  But I also know that if I didn't acknowledge and work towards making this better, it would catch up to me in a worse way.  But at this moment, what could be worse than this feeling of being overwhelmed, this feeling I feel festering right now...

Turning into your mother and other packing issues...

I go a little crazy before a trip.  And it is unnecessary crazy.  I spent so much time traveling last year that I had it down to a science -- I knew what I needed, I knew what bags would work for how much, I knew how to slide through security, I even knew some of the TSA agents (ok, so I didn't really 'know' them, but I recognized their faces).

So here it is, the day before I leave and if you could actually see this room you would come over here and help me.  I know my issues are mostly in my head.  I know that I am making a mountain out of a work & vacation, I-should-be-so-lucky molehill.  I have a list and It. Is. LONG.  And I need to be at the airport in t-minus 29 hours.  (Perfect time to be in the internet...)

Non related to my packing issues, are my tying-up-loose-end issues.  My sweet mother used to (who am I kidding, it still happens to an extent) sit us down and tell us where we would go should something happen to them (obviously now we know where we go, but as kids) and would remind us that we shouldn't just liquidate their belongings (my brother's idea) and and and all the things she felt she needed to tell us before a trip - including and not limited to a lecture on the fact that we are brother & sister and we cannot let little things get between us if they are gone. We used to secretly (maybe not really secret) make a little fun of her for this... By proxy, I have this truly ridiculous fear that I need to have everything in tip top shape on the off chance that something, God forbid, goes horribly awry and that I need to have everything in my power clean and in tip top shape and organized.  I always have clean sheets on my bed before I leave (a little weird, I realize), I always clean my car before I leave (stupid, since it sits outside and just gets dirty while I am gone), I like for someone (usually my poor brother who just rolls his eyes) to know what my account numbers are, and other important information, I want my room clean (small miracle),  bills paid - or on the schedule, among other issue laden details with which I won't bore you.

Truth is - it all goes on in a forward motion whether I am in town or not. Everywhere I am going has viable internet, phone abilities (although AT&T is such a pain in my arse.  more bar in more places is the biggest BS campaign ever) so I think I have moved from worry and panic to procrastination.  

I must go throw some stuff in a bag and take care of some work and get my nails pretty.  I know this much to be true, as long as I have a bathing suit, a couple of sun dresses and a camera - I will be just fine and that should calm me down, just a little... 

My Monday Nights

I finally got the nerve/grew the kahunas/wanted to check something off my list, whatever you want to categorize it as and signed up to take an improv class.  10 strangers + 1 teacher + 2 who silently (except when they laugh) watch from the back of the room = my Monday nights.  

It is way harder than I ever imagined and challenges me and what I think to be funny and/or quick witted.  I try to jump the why-didn't-I-think-of-that-hurdle constantly.  We are an ensemble made up of a teacher, a doctor, a couple of engineers, two marketers, a lawyer, an artist, an audio/visual guru, a patient, club promoting MD Anderson man and an indian chief -- kidding about the Indian chief.  We all have varied backgrounds as well as varied reasons for taking the class in the first place and It. Is. Awesome.

When I was in college, I took a class called 'the art of acting' - I don't remember much from the class. It was second semester senior year and I need an extra elective to get me to 12 hours for that final semester - I went out a lot that semester, hell, that whole year - I never gained the freshman fifteen, and although I never made note of it, I might have gained the senior twenty.  Gross, I digress -- the things I do remember from that class is that you were supposed to leave your 'cool & pre-conceived ideas at the door' That is hard in college, personally I wasn't old enough, or secure enough in my own self, or willing to be my authentic self in a class of my peers who I might not have really known all that well.  And that hurt.  It hurt me in my 'acting' and it hurt me in being true.  

Now, we still have to leave our 'cool & pre-conceived ideas at the door' and just do whatever hits you to do, whatever comes to the frontal lobe first - spit it out, use less "um" and more description, be honest, be open and willing, be your true self - even when you are a character that has nothing to do with your authentic self.   That just got way more serious than it should have been.  Anyway, I love it because I am scared to death almost the whole time.  I jump up to role play or take on the task at hand, scared I won't be quick enough and unsure of what the hell is going to come out of my mouth, and I have to think quickly on my feet, and juggle whatever gets thrown at me and it's some of the most fun I have had in a long while.

I heart Rogue Improv and I am pretty sure that my Monday night kicks your Monday night's ass.  

 

RIP Blanche Devereaux

Sad news today -- Golden Girl, Rue McClanahan "Blanche Devereaux" died this morning.  She was the original Samantha Jones.  She loved men, she exuded confidence and whole heartedly believed it when she said in her slight twang "oh, honey, I look fabulous..."  To this day I wish I had half of her confidence, cool and sluttiness.  She was happy and her authentic self -- even if her authentic self was a made-up character -- I wish I had more of Blanche in my authentic self. 

Cheers to you, Blanche, you made my Saturday nights going up so much more fun! Even when I didn't understand half of your innuendoes, I knew you were cool.  We will miss you.