Rumor Has It

I am always amazed at the speed in which a rumor will spread. You would think by now that it wouldn’t surprise me, but sometimes it just overtakes you much like a wave in the ocean can sneak up on you and knock you down.

My teaching position has been surrounded by rumors. Apparently -according to my students- my grades do not count; therefore, the students do not have to try in my classroom, because they will pass the class. Also, telling a student that they will not pass the 9th grade because they have been absent too many times is a fear tactic used by teachers, because they will be passed on to the 9th grade if their grades are above failing. Absences do not matter, and what are they going to do? Hold back the entire 9th grade glass? Because they all have exceeded their maximum number of days.

Yesterday

Adventures on a Saturday

Sometimes the strange, odd, and unusual just seem to happen around me. One day, if I’m smart, I’ll just write all of these things down and have them published. Until then, you will just have to read about them here!

Yesterday was a busy day for me. I started at 7:30 and did not stop until midnight. I had a long list of things that I needed to squeeze into this day: Saturday. My first course of business was to find a book for a lesson that I’m teaching on Monday. I drove to Greenville and stopped in at the Books-a-Million on Laurens Road to seek out my treasure. I did not find the book that I went in to find, but I did find a nice second choice: The Wolf’s Story by Toby Forward and Izhar Cohen. It is the wolf’s take on the Little Red Riding Hood story. As I was paying for my purchase, the cashier said, “Oh! That’s like that movie, Hoodwinked!

I haven’t seen that movie, but after hearing her description, I thought that it would make a great companion piece to my lesson. Therefore, I was off to Walmart in search of the movie!

When I arrived at Walmart, they didn’t have the movie. Instead, I picked up a few necessary items and headed out the door to run away from all the Clemson madness that seemed to be taking over the store… and the highway! My plan of action was to drive the back roads all the way home and avoid the traffic. Unfortunately, as I was putting my bags into the trunk of my car, I was approached by a stranger. I fought off the urge to slug him (I mean, he was decked out in Clemson orange and my blood runneth garnet, not orange ) and replied kindly. I guess that out of everyone in the parking lot, I seemed to be the safest choice to talk to about his situation. I knew right away that he was a Yankee and I thought it best to help him. Seems he locked his keys in his car. I wondered to myself if he was a graduate of Clemson, but I felt the need to contain my sarcasm.

When I arrived home, I told my dad about the poor lost Yankee and his wife stranded at the Walmart parking lot. We laughed about it and then I got ready for work.

When I was at work, I had to make the parfaits and for some reason, the piping bag with whipped cream icing in it exploded… on me. Then, as I was putting the chocolate cream from the piping bag back into the container, it somehow squirted on me. I was a little upset, because by now I’m covered in whipped cream and chocolate. I then had to make the apple fritters and I was up to my elbows in dough when a male customer stopped and was staring at me like I was a goldfish in an bowl. I looked up and asked if he needed assistance and he said, “Lord, you sure are purty.”

Should I say, “Creepy!” My first thought was the whipped cream and chocolate, and I had to choke back the response I wanted to say, which was, “That’ll wear off once you are outside. It’s just due to the whipped cream and chocolate,” and instead, I said, “Uhhh, thank you.”

Well, he just would not go away. He kept coming back and on his 5^th stop by the bakery, he said, “Bye. You have a good day, gorgeous.” *shivers* Glad he left!

When I left work, Kyle and I went to Traveler’s Rest Speedway to see his dad race. Oh boy was that fun!

On our way into the track, we were walking past this car full of drunk women who were all literally falling out of their car. One drunk thought that Kyle and I was her friend and she said, “Hold on a minute, block my view while I pull my panties out of my ass.” Kyle was horrified and the woman turned to see me and my son. As we were walking on toward the track, Kyle said, “I did not need to see or know that!” I just busted out laughing!

The racing was average if best and the only excitement, besides the lady who had underwear issues, was the fight that broke out among the parents of the drivers. Go figure! Dumb rednecks! *looks around cautiously*

Then… We left the race early. We drove to the Bi-lo in Easley and we were walking through the store, when Kyle said, “I’m going to beat you.” I said, “I didn’t know we were in a race?” About that time some guy who saw us cutting up made some engine revving noises and I looked behind me and just cracked up! He chased us all over the store and then we had to leave. Kyle said, “Mom, if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he was flirting with you.”

Yeah. What a way to end a crazy Saturday!

 

Just put one foot in front of the other

Today I donned my usual workout gear and went for a walk/jog/run. However, instead of covering that up with an oversized T-shirt, I sported my workout gear. I can’t tell you how liberating that was for me. I guess I am so used to hiding from the world and hiding who I truly am, that I’ve forgotten how to be my natural self. Life has been all about putting on fake personas to the point that I really do not know who I am. But today was all about changing that small fact.

I sat on the phone last night talking to Kyle’s dad for about 2 ½ hours. The great thing about talking with him is that he knows me and we are comfortable being open and honest with one another. We always were good friends. Building off of that again? I doubt it.

We were both talking about how we were trying to find our own separate identities. He had not had a break between our relationship, his marriage, and his recent relationship. He felt that he needed some space to find himself.

Me? I’ve found myself, but I’m still adjusting.

I’m no longer upset that Tony is happy with his new girlfriend. I’ve come to terms with the fact that everyone we knew thinks that I’m this horrible adulterer. I’ve even made peace with my self-image.

I decided that I would take a break from men for a while. I thought at first that the best revenge against Tony for divorcing me was for him to see me happy with some other guy. Because our marriage had lacked intimacy, I even thought that the only way to prove to myself that I was attractive was to find the attentions of men. The only problem with this is that it made me have such a negative concept of myself when I was rejected, or when I felt rejected.

It was not healthy.

I had too many things to come to terms with before I could move on to the next step of my life.

Weight loss has always been about my health. It was never about my image. Sure I joked about Fat Girl and Inner Skinny Chick, but you have to go back and look at WHY I started the exercise. I started because I did not want another doctor standing over me, shaking his head, and saying, “You are overweight and you are going to die.”

Sure, I used to get upset and become defensive when the doctors told me this! I used to say, “I’ll show them! I’ll stay fat and I’ll live! They don’t know what they are talking about!” I was mad! I defied my doctors. I didn’t care. But when I went in with pneumonia and they were running tests on my heart and he said, “The same neuropathy that causes you to lose feeling in your hands and feet is the same neuropathy that causes your heart to no longer beat,” is the day that I said, “I will no longer be this way.” My will to live was stronger than my will to die!

I was still recovering from pneumonia when I got on that treadmill and I turned it on. I could not walk longer than 2 minutes at a speed of 1.8 miles per hour. 2 minutes! But every day I got on that treadmill until one day- one year later- I was running. It all started with me putting one foot in front of the other and walking.

So, this brings me to my next thought: Anything that you want to do can start by simply putting one foot in front of the other. You can take the small steps to reach the BIG goal!

What is YOUR big goal?

I have many.

1. Graduate from college.
2. Obtain a teaching job!
3. Lose down to a healthy weight. (My 14 Week Challenge is to get me closer to this goal!)
4. Live my life to the fullest.

In December, I will celebrate my 1^st huge milestone (and I type this with tears in my eyes). I’m hoping that numbers 2 and 3 on that list will fall into place during this time, too! As for number 4? That is a daily task. Live your life in the moment and make sure that when the day is over, there are no regrets as to the choices you have made.

As for my dating life and men…

I’m in no hurry. I placed that in God’s hands. When He’s ready, He will send one to me. If not, then I will live out my days faithfully serving God. No regrets.

I once made the comment that if I were to ever be divorced, I would never remarry. I said that I would spend my time serving the Lord. The reason why? Because unless your spouse is like-minded, it would never work.

The right man would be someone who shared the same ideals that I have and have the same interests. If he plans to be with me, then he had better be prepared to hike the jungles of Costa Rica on the mission field, or ride a bicycle (or walk) to work each day in China. I do not know where God is going to send me, but the right man had better be ready to go.

So far, I haven’t met him. But I continue to pray.

As for now, my focus is on my four goals. I’m taking small steps to get there. Just one foot… in front of… the other…

*****************************

Lately, I have tried to find song lyrics to post as my titles. I think I’ll start posting the songs to go along with the blogs.

I couldn’t find the one that I wanted from the Christmas TV special, Santa Claus is Coming to Town. But this has the tune and the lyrics.

Cinderella

“Be home by midnight, or else, you’ll turn into a pumpkin,” my dad said to me as I was headed for the door. I was telling him I’d be back later, because I had a date.

I laughed at his words and said, “Yes, Daddy, I’ll be home by midnight. I promise!” Little did I know that this exchange of words would be the ones that sustained me throughout the night. However, unlike Cinderella, I didn’t get the chance to leave behind a glass slipper, nor did I expect to turn into a pumpkin. But before I can tell you how I turned into a pumpkin, I have to start with the fairytale, my handsome prince, and a dance.

I’ve discovered that sometimes, when you kiss a toad, all you really have is a toad. When I say “toad” I mean some really bad “dates” or potential “dates.” Namely, one who couldn’t look me in the eye while dining and then, the conversation just disappeared. Others who contacted me on a dating website to merely state that all they wanted was sex. Then, there was the nut job that cussed me and said some highly offensive things to me when I told him that I was actually busy on a Friday night and couldn’t go out with him. However, sometimes when you are out there sifting through the toads, you find your handsome prince.

My HP was someone entirely unexpected. In other words, I wasn’t entirely sure if my HP and I would actually hit it off, but from the moment of our first conversation via email/message/text message, I was hooked. Then came the phone conversation that went on for 2 ½ hours. When I hung up on this conversation, I had to admit to myself that I could have talked to him ALL NIGHT. I really did not want the conversation to end. I wanted it to last forever, and I wanted to know more about him. But all good things must come to an end. So I hung up the phone with him and held onto the lingering promise that remained between us that if it rained, he would have the evening free, and we would actually see one another.

Ahh… We needed a rain dance (my ball!). So, I did my best rain dance and then… I received the text message that my dear HP was free for the afternoon and evening.

What joy!

So… I hopped in my car and drove to Westminster, promising my dad that I would be back by midnight.

I loved the time that I spent with my HP. It was everything that this Cinderella could have hoped for in return.

When 10:45 came around, it was time to say goodbye to my HP and return back to my humble abode. I was floating on air as I drove down the highway, but I didn’t get far before I realized that there was a car that was tailgating me. I signaled and pulled over into the other lane to let this car that seemed to be in such a hurry move over. He didn’t. Instead, I saw blue lights flood my rearview mirror and I thought I would die. I was not speeding. I was wearing my seat belt. I signaled. What did I do wrong?

Apparently… you don’t drive through Westminster at 11 o’clock at night.

“Where are you coming from?” The officer asked as he approached the passenger side window.

“From a date.”

“Where are you headed?”

“Home.”

“Where’s home?”

I told him.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?”

“No sir, but I know it wasn’t for speeding.”

“You’re right. ONE of your tag lights is burned out.”

WHAT?

Can they do that?

Well, apparently, that’s not all.

Pretty soon, he tells me, “I need you to step out of the vehicle. I’m placing you under arrest for driving under suspension.”

WHAT???????

I ask the obvious question as to why it is suspended and he said, “Did you forget to pay a speeding ticket? Forget to pay your taxes? Forget to turn in a tag? Insurance?” (and the list went on)

“No sir,” I replied to each one and then it dawned on me like lightning bolts lighting up a dark night, “Tony’s vehicles are still in MY NAME!”

The officer let me call my dad so that I could tell him that I would not be home by my midnight curfew.

After which, I threw my purse, went into a tirade about how I was going beat the hell out of him, and how is it that HE kept ruining MY LIFE! Well, the officers decided that it was time to handcuff me and get me in the patrol car. Three of them, to be exact. ß this lovely tirade, pared with a later exhibition at the LEC, and an admission to having been suicidal recently (within 6 months) placed me in the LOONEY pen at the jail.

I can honestly say, that I know for a fact that the arresting officer does not obey the law himself, as I watched the speedometer register 60 in a 35 as he was driving me to the detention center. And as I watched him continuously spitting his dip, I had to fight back the urge to inform him that he would end up with mouth cancer.

The area in the back of the patrol car is very small. When you are my size, and you have joint issues where you are trying to avoid putting too much pressure on the tightened cuffs, you sit very close to that clear partition. Each time he hit the brakes… SMACK!

So… he marches me into the LEC and as a woman is running her hands over my body and grabbing between my crotch (the same place twice!), and I’m starting to feel like bruised produce, the booking officer informs the arresting officer that the time is 12:12 a.m. and at the same time, my HP sent me a “Goodnight” text message.

POOF!

When you are placed into a dark cell with 5 other people, you do not sleep. You do nothing but pray… and think… and plan… and plot… and laugh…

Laugh?

Oh yeah. I was sitting there, in the dark, and I looked down at the lovely orange “PJs” my hosts had provided me when I was booked and realized then and there what I had become: A PUMPKIN! A big, fat, orange (and I don’t look good in orange!) pumpkin.

And immediately, I felt ashamed of how my HP would see me then. I wonder if Cinderella had this same issue as she cleaned frantically, watching her step-sisters try on that glass slipper?

I know I did.

But God is gracious and the judge that was due to arrive around 10 or 11, actually arrived at 7, much to my cellmates dismay. They were certain that I would be bunking in with them for a good chunk of the day.

As for my HP?

Lately I have felt like an unwanted, broken toy that has been tossed aside. My arrest record only adds to that. I just hope that like the storybook Cinderella, this real-life Cinderella gets a chance at happiness.

Adventures in Refrigerator Purging

When I woke up this morning, before I even had a cup of coffee, my dad says, “I hate to be a nag, but will you please clean out the refrigerator today?” I wanted to run, but I had no place to go.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind cleaning out the refrigerator. However, this one is different. This one contained items that I did not put in it. This contained items with expiration dates of 2006 and 2007. This had food that my mother put in it when she was still living. This had baking soda that was so old the box looked like someone had shoved a dead rat in it. Who knew baking soda would mold?

Now, my mother was really bad at putting things in the refrigerator and forgetting about them. We used to say that when you went to pull something out, it was best to have baseball bat to protect yourself. Of course, sometimes, things just eventually grew to the point that they followed Darwin’s theory and developed legs and crawled away on their own power.

Well, anyhow…

I finally just sucked it up and decided to dive in the refrigerator and purge all the out of date and unrecognizable items out of it.

Nasty, huh?

My rule of thumb is that if it’s expired it goes. If it’s retired, it goes. If you no longer recognize what it is, it goes. If I didn’t put it in there, it wasn’t opened and it went.

Well, I cleaned everything out while Kyle sat on the couch, his nose covered by a pillow, and giggled at the faces I made. And believe me, I was gagging!

When it was all over, my dad made him take the garbage out and it busted open on him, so he smelled horrible! He scrubbed and gagged in the shower for more than an hour! Karma really does come back around!

After I had cleaned out the refrigerator and washed up all the containers, my dad said, “Did you find that unopened tub of Country Crock butter?”

I stopped and looked at him. In my mind, I’m going through all the things that I pulled out and tossed. Then, I remembered the butter tub. “Yeah, I threw it away.”

“What? That was still new!” he yelled, coming up out of his chair about 2 inches.

“Uh, Dad, I didn’t buy that butter.”

“It was new!”

“Dad, I didn’t even open the tub, I just chunked it!”

“It was brand new!”

“Dad, it thumped and jiggled when I shook the tub! I don’t think that was butter!”

He looked at me rather perplexed as I had images of him wanting to slather on a thick spread of butter on his pancakes one morning and opening up some leftovers my mom put in the fridge in 2007 that had grown legs and had been trying to escape its cold imprisonment.

Yep. That would have been a sight to behold!

Diving into the Dating Pool

Well, it’s time to slip on the waders (and possibly the life preserver, though I’m not going that deep, am I?) and wade out into the dating pool. And the bad part is that times have changed.

My dad was completely stumped when I told him that I would be driving out to meet my date. He said, “You mean he’s not going to be a gentleman and come pick you up for your date?”

I guess not. Of course, this way, I don’t have to dive out of a moving vehicle. You know, that hurts! I should know!

All that aside, I am just going to slowly work my way back into the dating scene.

My pastor talked about what happens when you pick up men in bars a few weeks ago. He said, “If you’re going to bars to find men, why are you so surprised when they turn out to be drunkards!” That’s true. If that is where you are going to find men, then that is what you are going to find. Case in point is the gentleman at the bar in a restaurant who was drunk, plopped himself on the stool beside me, touched me, and then planted a kiss on me. He introduced me to his friend who was a little more sober than he was, but I still don’t know his name, and really, I don’t want to know.

That experience alone was enough to turn me away from wanting to date, but there was yet another.

It seems that my picture fools many people. I’m a pretty face that they want attached to a Barbie doll figure. I’m sorry. That isn’t going to happen. And for the record, why would I want to be attached to someone so shallow! Hello? If you can’t see past that, then you are in for a rude awakening in life one day, my friend. Chances are, you have issues, too, and someone is not going to like your flaws. (Funny thing about the guy who was disappointed with my appearance: he still calls me up. ß But I only give one chance.)

So, if all these things could go wrong, why date?

Well, for the adult companionship. It’s hard when you are the only single person in your circle of friends. You can’t go out with other couples without feeling like a 5^th wheel. You can go out with a friend or two, and it’s just the girls, but eventually, they are all going to be busy with life. So then what?

You have to date.

So… let’s go drop a toe in the pool and test out the water…

I need a restrictor plate for my mouth, please!

“I need to be smacked. Will someone please smack me?” I said aloud as I placed the phone back on the table beside my Dad.

“Well, I can smack you if you need me to,” he said matter-of-factly as he lowered the newspaper he was reading.

To be honest, I didn’t want to tell him what I did. It wasn’t as though it was horrible. In fact, it was harmless if you look at from the viewpoint of sometimes-everyone-says-I-love-you-too-at-the-end-of-a-phone-conversation kind of way. Innocent enough, right? Except the person on the phone was my ex. Not my recent ex-husband, but Kyle’s dad.

Every time he calls, he says, “Love ya,” or “love y’all” at the end of the conversation. It’s just that I don’t say it back… except I did… this time. Why?

I think it just sort of fell out of my mouth. It wasn’t as though I meant it. I mean, we’re not dating or anything. However, that brings me to the second problem with this particular conversation and the one where my dad informed me, “You’re still hung up on him.”

I refuse to believe that I am still “hung up” on him of all people. My dad believes otherwise.

Apparently, if you tell someone everything that you did this weekend and defend yourself to them, you still have feelings.

My argument was, “But Daddy! He got suspicious of WHO I was with and what I was doing! I don’t think that I should have had to defend myself and what business of his is it?”

“Well, darlin’,” he started real slow and looked at me, “I want you to turn around and I’ll tell you.”

“What?”

“Turn around and I’ll tell you.”

I spun in a circle and then threw out my hands to say, “Okay?”

“Darlin’, you defended yourself because you are still hung up on him, but he acted that way because he is still hung up on you, too.”

Excuse me? I’m wh…

Whoa!

He’s still hung up on me?

Well, that explains a few of our conversations…

Oh well. If you’ll excuse me, I need to find someone to install a restrictor plate on my mouth to slow it down. Or maybe that should be on my brain so that I’ll stop and think before I speak…

What’s on your mind?

Each day, a friend on Facebook seems to post this as status, which made me think, “What is on your mind today, Martha?” Well, let me tell you, it isn’t what you would expect. In fact, it is about…

Come to think of it, what would it be about? Phone etiquette? Common courtesy? Hmm….

I can’t stand it when people say, “I’ll call you,” or “I’ll text you later,” and then, they never do. It irritates me. The reason why is because I think that when you say you are going to do something…. YOU DO IT! You don’t forget to do it.

When you forget to return that call or text, you are basically telling the person that they do not mean that much to you.

Case in point: a guy who comes across as, “I would really like to start a relationship with you,” tells me, “I’m busy at the moment, but I’ll text you later.”  Yeah. You told me that last week, too, and you still haven’t returned that one, either!

However, there is a certain person who never fails to send me at least one text a day. I told him this morning that he made me feel special. Of course, I also wish that he didn’t live 2 states away. I’d date him in a heartbeat!

Do I expect a text message every day? No. But I expect that he’d think more of me than to NEVER text or call unless he wanted something. Geesh!

So… that is my rant for the day. And that is what is on my mind today.

My Apologies

Sorry that I haven’t posted in a while, but my church doesn’t want me posting in a blog. They feel that it …

Hmm?

They think that…

Hmm…

Well, you see, it is like this:

Did you read my previous post? Well, it seems that I was asked to sit in the office while being accused of seeing this guy in December, but the truth was that they had everything all backwards. But when I post things like that in my blog… well… When I post anything in my blog that is in the least bit creative, things get blown way out of proportion and then, I get accused of things.

I like my blog and having creative license over it.

I plan to post more here soon.

The reason?

I have so much to share!

And writing makes me feel better, and I missed having an outlet for my emotions.

So hang tight, people! I will return!

Inquiring Minds Probably Don’t Want to Know

For those who have wondered if I’m truly anything like my blog, here’s a video I made today becaue I was bored.

I know that when you see a picture of someone smiling, you really don’t see the personality behind it, so enjoy!
http://www.facebook.com/v/134544649937374