Let me just say that I HATE sucking at things. I mean, I really, REALLY hate it. Frankly, I try not to do things that I think I might suck at just to avoid that "you suck" feeling. And it's even worse when I do something, not expecting to suck and I am off the charts sucky. Typically, when it comes to all things athletic, there is no suckiness to speak of. I have been blessed with great genetics and good body control, so physical things come easily to me. I have embraced this as one of my strong suits, one of my better qualities; so when this does not prove to be true, it shakes me to my core. And pisses me off to no end. So yeah, I am a sore loser.
And this is especially true for things that I have never tried but always *known* I would be good at. Take tennis for instance. If you know how to play, please hold your laughter now, but I have always thought that tennis would be pretty easy. I am quack and have long legs and arms, so I should be able to cover the court pretty well. And the racquet is pretty big, so I SHOULD be able to hit the ball pretty easily. I have tried to play tennis before and was definitely able to hit the ball, even if I did hit it off the court...meaning over the fence and totally out of the court area. So I do kind of suck, but was always confident that with just a few pointers, I would make people believe I was Serena Williams. So really I just need some lessons from someone who knows what the hell they are doing. Enter Camargo Racquet Club.
I relied on my good friend Google to point me in the direction of good tennis lessons. As I am ruling out place after place it occurs to me that it might be difficult to learn a SUMMER sport in the middle of winter. But someone has got to have indoor courts in this town, so I keep looking. I finally stumble on the perfect solution: a five week clinic called tennis in no time that is being offered by Camargo racquet club. They promise that in five hour and a half sessions you will be able to not embarrass yourself while playing tennis. And they give you a free racquet. Perfect, I’m in!! The only problem I can foresee is that it is on Friday nights from 630 to 8. Not that I have an overflowing social calendar but damn, I have to commit five Fridays to this?! And the first lesson is the Friday of my birthday weekend. Charlene will be in town and I am sure that the last thing I will want to do is go to a tennis lesson when we could be out having a great sushi dinner or something. But I remind myself, I am committed to the process, and if this is the day I have to start tennis lessons then so be it.
Friday is ushered in by a Cincinnati style snowstorm: only a few inches but the city shuts down as if there were a few feet! As the day goes on and the roads are getting worse and worse, I am not sure if we are even going to have the tennis lesson. Being from Alaska, I have no problem getting there, but half the city is shut down at this point so I am not sure if I will be left scrambling for my "thing" for today. I call the racquet club at about 5 and the woman who answered said that the class was still on, so I guess we are good to go. I am trying to decide what to wear and am bummed that I don't have one of those cute little tennis outfits. I had intended to buy one for the lesson but kind of forgot about it. To be honest, the cute outfits are part of the reason I want to learn to play. Shallow? Maybe...but you have to admit they are pretty damn cute. And you can't really run around wearing one if you don't really play or you'll look like a freak. Lessons will give me a legitimate reason to shop for new tennis clothes (as if I need a reason to shop!)
I decide on sweats and a t-shirt, then get bundled up to head to class. The roads are slushy and the snow is coming down and I am just hoping that I am not the only one who decided to come to class tonight. When I arrive in the parking lot I get more nervous because there are very few cars there. I really am gonna be the only one in class. Shit! I walk in to the front desk to get checked in and am relieved to see some other people milling around with new-looking racquets. I am assuming (hoping...praying!) they are here for the class and when the woman behind the desk hands me a racquet that is identical to theirs i am so relieved. I decide that I need to feel these people out and find out if they were all truly beginners (ready sucky!) like me or if I was in for an embarrassing hour and a half. The other three women there are very friendly and assure me that they have not had any tennis experience either (yeah, we'll see!).
Finally it is time to get started and we are lead down to one of the far courts. We have two instructors, one older man and one younger (cute!) guy. They split us up into two groups and I am with the older man working on a two handed backhand. I am kind of surprised that we just jumped right in but have no choice but to go with it. I am really starting to get nervous at this point because he hasn't really given us many pointers, he just starts tossing balls at us. I hit the first couple of balls and they go flying. Luckily, most of the other people in my group are doing the same thing. Some people are missing the ball completely and I feel great and a little smug that I am not THAT bad....until I start missing balls. God this sucks! I suck!! For every one ball I hit sort of well, I hit five very badly and miss two or three. The worst part is, the more balls we hit, the better everyone else seems to be doing. Everyone, that is, except me. I am convinced that some of these people have had tennis experience. LIARS!!!
Finally we are done with the backhand and more to the forehand. The cute guy is a better instructor than the other guy and he gives more direction as to what the hell we are doing, before jumping right in. We do a few practice swings and I get my confidence back, convinced that I am going to be really good at this shot. We start the drill with the actual balls and I am immediately disappointed. I am not just bad at this shot, it might be worse than my backhand. And now I am embarrassing myself in front of the cute instructor. Damn damn damn. the only good thing about tennis for me at this point, is that I am fast and cover the court really well (which I always knew I would! at least I was right about something!), but that doesn't make up for the other suckiness.
The forehand drill can't be over fast enough! Not only am I a terrible tennis player but I am totally out of shape! I am winded from chasing down balls and it seems like I am the only one who can't catch their breath. I didn't bring any water and I am dying of thirst, and one sneak peek at the clock tells me that this is not even half over yet! I don't think I can' take sucking for another 45 minutes, but I don't think I have a choice. I can't do what I want to do which is throw my racquet like John McEnroe and scream "tennis sucks!", so I guess I will have to continue the drills. I am hoping to get better, but as I get more tired, I think I get worse (if that is possible). I realize as class is ending that I have four weeks left of this madness, and I can only pray that the tennis gods will bestow on me some sort of skill before the next class.
But if not, at least I will suck looking VERY CUTE in my new tennis outfits!
Friday, February 5, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Commitment issues - Day 32 of 35 days to 35
Let me just put it out there...Charlene is a bit of a bully. I mean that in the most non-threatening and complimentary way possible. But she is. Most of the daring, out of the ordinary and possibly crazy things we have done have been her idea and have taken quite a bit of coaxing for me to go along with. It all started with the piercing of the top of our left ear when we were freshman in college. I knew our parents were going to freak, but somehow Charlene convinced me that it really wasn't that big of a deal and that they wouldn't be that upset. She was wrong. And you would think the tongue lashing and "I’m so disappointed in you" speech would have made me tell her where to go and how to get there the next time she came up with some nutty idea. But no...my dumb ass continues to follow the lead of my "big sister" (she is only ten minutes older than be but the hear her tell it, you'd think it was ten years!), doing one crazy thing after another.
After the ear piercing was the tattoo.....then the belly button piercing...she tried to get me to do the tongue piercing with her but I had to draw the line there. But she did talk me into a tragus piercing (the tragus is that small flap of cartilage on the front of your ear, the part you push down when you are trying to plug your ears) a few years ago but that is where it stopped. The thing about piercings and tattoos is that they can be kind of addicting. You get one, and something compels you to keep going, and what you once thought was out of the question now seems like not such a big deal. The good girl in me was fighting these urges but doing a bad job with the coaxing of the devil on my shoulder, otherwise known as Charlene. She had convinced me to get another tattoo, and we wanted to get something that symbolized our twinship in the same place on our bodies. You would think the issue would be what to get, but no. the issue was WHERE to get it and HOW BIG it would be. Of course Charlene wanted it to be really big and on a place that would be very difficult to hide if need be, like the shoulder or back of the neck or something. I, on the other hand, wanted a dainty one on our ankle or someplace non-threatening to "normal people". So we haven't gotten the tattoo yet.
When this project started, she re-introduced the idea of a "twin tattoo" as one of our things. Technically we couldn't do it anyway since we have both had tattoos already and this was supposed to be something we had never done before. But Charlene, ever the manipulator, I mean creative thinker, said that we had never gotten a TWIN TATTOO before so it would still count. But even if I agreed with this flimsy logic (which I didn't) we still had the problem of location. And it seems as if her idea of the size of the tattoo had gotten bigger as well. This was so not gonna work.
So I, feeding off of Charlene's creativity, came up with a perfect compromise: a henna tattoo. This would be perfect. It wouldn't be permanent so we could get it wherever she wanted it and however big she wanted it because it would be gone soon. And it would actually fall into the real rules of our project because neither of us had ever gotten a henna tattoo. Surprisingly, it did not take much to convince Charlene that this was a good idea. I think she thought she was winning since she got to pick the size and location and I felt like I won because it wasn't permanent. Ah, the art of compromise. Isn’t it beautiful??
Now I had the task of finding a henna artist. You would think that this would not have been that difficult: Cincinnati is a fairly large city and there are a million tattoo and piercing places around, so logically you would think that one of them would have a henna artist. Nope. I called five or six places and all of them said that they did not have a henna artist there. I was getting discouraged because the websites of these places said that they offered henna but they were all telling me I was S.O.L. I called the last tattoo place on my list, hoping but not hopeful, and I finally struck gold. The guy on the phone said that they did not offer it there but he had the name and number of a henna artist (Caitlin) who would be able to help me. FINALLY!
After playing phone tag with Caitlin for a few days, I was finally able to reach her. She did not work in a shop or anything but said that she could come to us or we could come to her, whatever would be more convenient. This is great! We made an appointment to go to her house on Thursday morning and I was starting to get really excited. We had picked the yin yang symbol as our tattoo and Charlene decided we were going to get it on our left shoulder/upper back area. I would love to get a real one there but frankly, I’m just too much of a weenie to commit to it so this way I get to play rebel tattoo girl without the pain and permanency of a real one.
We arrive at Caitlin’s apartment on Thursday and are greeted by a short, young-looking white girl. at this point I am a little skeptical of her abilities...she doesn't really look like she would know what she is doing, but I figure we are here now so we may as well go for it. She explains that she will do the design with the henna and we are to try not to move that part of our bodies very much. We are supposed to let it dry and then keep it moist with a wet paper towel for the next hour to hour and a half. this could pose a problem because I do have to drive home so I have to move and it is snowing outside so the tank top I am wearing right now is not going to cut it, I will have to put my sweater back on which might mess it up. Maybe I didn't think this through. Caitlin starts on my tattoo first and in no time she is finished. It’s on my back so I can't see it but Charlene assures me it looks good. Caitlin finishes Charlene’s just as quickly and she is right, it does look great! The henna is dark brown and globby and Caitlin says we need to keep it moist for as long as possible so it will get dark and last longer. It occurs to me that we are kind of the same color as henna and it may not show up very well. Again, maybe I didn't think this through....
Caitlin gives us each a moist paper towel and instructions to keep pressing it on the tattoo to keep it moist. But before we even get home, part of Charlene’s tattoo has flaked off! She had been keeping the paper towel on it but that didn't seem to help. It had definitely not been an hour and half so we were worried that part of the tattoo would not show up. By the time we got home, part of mine had done the same thing. DAMMIT! Okay this is not what I bargained for at all! We called Caitlin and asked if we could come back and have her fix it and thankfully she agreed. So we headed back over to her apartment for a quick touch up and another moist paper towel. This time it was about 45 minutes before pieces started flaking off. Charlene and I looked like crazy people running around in tank tops in 30 degree weather, but that's the price you pay, right?!
By late afternoon we weren't sure if the henna was going to "take" but we agreed that we were sick of holding that stupid paper towel on our shoulders so we decided to let it dry and see what happened from there. I was really hoping that it turned out the way we hoped and that we didn't make two trips for nothing, but I wasn't real hopeful.
We went about the rest of the afternoon and evening and, to be honest, I kind of forgot about it. Later that evening, while watching Grey's Anatomy, I get up off the couch to grab a drink and Charlene yells "the tattoo looks awesome!" It took me a second to realize what she was talking about but when I did I ran to the bathroom to take a look. IT DID LOOK GREAT! It was perfect! Now I had to figure out a way to show it off...on my shoulder...in the middle of winter.
Don’t worry, I am sure I can come up with something!
After the ear piercing was the tattoo.....then the belly button piercing...she tried to get me to do the tongue piercing with her but I had to draw the line there. But she did talk me into a tragus piercing (the tragus is that small flap of cartilage on the front of your ear, the part you push down when you are trying to plug your ears) a few years ago but that is where it stopped. The thing about piercings and tattoos is that they can be kind of addicting. You get one, and something compels you to keep going, and what you once thought was out of the question now seems like not such a big deal. The good girl in me was fighting these urges but doing a bad job with the coaxing of the devil on my shoulder, otherwise known as Charlene. She had convinced me to get another tattoo, and we wanted to get something that symbolized our twinship in the same place on our bodies. You would think the issue would be what to get, but no. the issue was WHERE to get it and HOW BIG it would be. Of course Charlene wanted it to be really big and on a place that would be very difficult to hide if need be, like the shoulder or back of the neck or something. I, on the other hand, wanted a dainty one on our ankle or someplace non-threatening to "normal people". So we haven't gotten the tattoo yet.
When this project started, she re-introduced the idea of a "twin tattoo" as one of our things. Technically we couldn't do it anyway since we have both had tattoos already and this was supposed to be something we had never done before. But Charlene, ever the manipulator, I mean creative thinker, said that we had never gotten a TWIN TATTOO before so it would still count. But even if I agreed with this flimsy logic (which I didn't) we still had the problem of location. And it seems as if her idea of the size of the tattoo had gotten bigger as well. This was so not gonna work.
So I, feeding off of Charlene's creativity, came up with a perfect compromise: a henna tattoo. This would be perfect. It wouldn't be permanent so we could get it wherever she wanted it and however big she wanted it because it would be gone soon. And it would actually fall into the real rules of our project because neither of us had ever gotten a henna tattoo. Surprisingly, it did not take much to convince Charlene that this was a good idea. I think she thought she was winning since she got to pick the size and location and I felt like I won because it wasn't permanent. Ah, the art of compromise. Isn’t it beautiful??
Now I had the task of finding a henna artist. You would think that this would not have been that difficult: Cincinnati is a fairly large city and there are a million tattoo and piercing places around, so logically you would think that one of them would have a henna artist. Nope. I called five or six places and all of them said that they did not have a henna artist there. I was getting discouraged because the websites of these places said that they offered henna but they were all telling me I was S.O.L. I called the last tattoo place on my list, hoping but not hopeful, and I finally struck gold. The guy on the phone said that they did not offer it there but he had the name and number of a henna artist (Caitlin) who would be able to help me. FINALLY!
After playing phone tag with Caitlin for a few days, I was finally able to reach her. She did not work in a shop or anything but said that she could come to us or we could come to her, whatever would be more convenient. This is great! We made an appointment to go to her house on Thursday morning and I was starting to get really excited. We had picked the yin yang symbol as our tattoo and Charlene decided we were going to get it on our left shoulder/upper back area. I would love to get a real one there but frankly, I’m just too much of a weenie to commit to it so this way I get to play rebel tattoo girl without the pain and permanency of a real one.
We arrive at Caitlin’s apartment on Thursday and are greeted by a short, young-looking white girl. at this point I am a little skeptical of her abilities...she doesn't really look like she would know what she is doing, but I figure we are here now so we may as well go for it. She explains that she will do the design with the henna and we are to try not to move that part of our bodies very much. We are supposed to let it dry and then keep it moist with a wet paper towel for the next hour to hour and a half. this could pose a problem because I do have to drive home so I have to move and it is snowing outside so the tank top I am wearing right now is not going to cut it, I will have to put my sweater back on which might mess it up. Maybe I didn't think this through. Caitlin starts on my tattoo first and in no time she is finished. It’s on my back so I can't see it but Charlene assures me it looks good. Caitlin finishes Charlene’s just as quickly and she is right, it does look great! The henna is dark brown and globby and Caitlin says we need to keep it moist for as long as possible so it will get dark and last longer. It occurs to me that we are kind of the same color as henna and it may not show up very well. Again, maybe I didn't think this through....
Caitlin gives us each a moist paper towel and instructions to keep pressing it on the tattoo to keep it moist. But before we even get home, part of Charlene’s tattoo has flaked off! She had been keeping the paper towel on it but that didn't seem to help. It had definitely not been an hour and half so we were worried that part of the tattoo would not show up. By the time we got home, part of mine had done the same thing. DAMMIT! Okay this is not what I bargained for at all! We called Caitlin and asked if we could come back and have her fix it and thankfully she agreed. So we headed back over to her apartment for a quick touch up and another moist paper towel. This time it was about 45 minutes before pieces started flaking off. Charlene and I looked like crazy people running around in tank tops in 30 degree weather, but that's the price you pay, right?!
By late afternoon we weren't sure if the henna was going to "take" but we agreed that we were sick of holding that stupid paper towel on our shoulders so we decided to let it dry and see what happened from there. I was really hoping that it turned out the way we hoped and that we didn't make two trips for nothing, but I wasn't real hopeful.
Don’t worry, I am sure I can come up with something!
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Not quite Miss Cleo...but close - Day 31 of 35 days to 35
I would never call myself a skeptic. I am open to pretty much anything....you think aliens exist? Maybe. You believe in witches? Okay, whatever works for you. I know there is so much evidence that we only use a small percentage of our brains, which leads me to believe that we are probably capable of much more than we actually think we are. So this whole thing about the sixth sense and being able to know things or see things that you aren't supposed to kind of makes sense to me.
I have had too many experiences in my life that don't have any logical explanation which also makes me think there might be something to it. For instance, I will think I see someone that I haven't seen in a long time, but it won’t' be them, and then within a week I will see the person I thought I saw. It might just be a coincidence but I don't think so. Plus there is the whole twin thing. There have been so many times where Charlene and I have felt something for each other, or done the same things at the same time without discussing it. There were several times in college where we saw each other on campus in the middle of the day and we'd be wearing the same thing totally unplanned. We even bought the same book on the same day once when she was living in D.C. and I was in Atlanta. Hell, I was the one who told her she was pregnant! So there has to be something to all if it...and it is incredibly intriguing to me.
So I took the opportunity this project gave me to explore a little of this, and decided to have my tarot cards read. I had thought about doing this several times before but never really had the nerve to do it. What if she gave me horrible news? What if she told me I was dying or that my life was gonna suck for the next year or so? I worry enough, I am thinking that I don't need someone validating that I really do have shit to worry about. But it's time to suck it up and see what the cards have to tell me.
Google told me that there was really only one place here in Cincinnati where I could get a tarot card reading so I was headed out to Amethyst Books and Gifts. I had planned to go before i had to pick Sammi up from school but the place did not open until 11, so Sammi was going to have to make the trip. This oughta be interesting......
Amethyst Gifts and Books was a cute little shop smelling of incense and filled with all kinds of cool books about astrology and everything you would need for mediation, yoga or anything else to connect with your spirituality. It was immediately calming, even Sammi wasn't running all around trying to grab everything. I approached the desk and told the woman there that I had come for my tarot card reading. She told me that Sharon would be doing the reading and she was getting set up for me. The reading was to last for thirty minutes and I was a little worried about how Sammi would do during that time. I had contemplated bringing her portable dvd player but remembered that she is prone to reciting the show/movie and singing the songs loudly so I nixed that idea. Candy always works to tame the beast that is Sammi, so I had a big bag of M&M's along with two or three lollipops. That should buy me thirty minutes (I hope!).
Finally after browsing the store and finding about twelve books I wanted to buy, Sharon was ready for me. Sammi and I follow her into a small, dimly lit room where there is a little table set up with three chairs. We get settled into our chairs (Sammi with the bag of M&M's) and start the reading. Sharon explains to me that I will "guide the proceeds" and that she will audio tape if for me so that I can go home and listen to it again if I want. I am wondering how much information she is going to give me in thirty minutes that I won’t' remember it and will need a tape to remind me! She starts the timer and the tape deck, then tells me to choose a stack of cards to begin with. There are three stacks of large cards, about the size of my hand, and a stack of smaller, playing card sized cards. The large cards are face down and they have different pictures on the backs of them. Already I am starting to sweat because I know that the deck I choose is going to say something about me and I want to choose the "right" one, whichever that one is. I hesitate and then pick the middle deck that has what looks to be a butterfly on the back. Sharon tells me that these are the fairy cards which mean I have a connection to the fairies that represent the earth and Mother Nature. Uh...okay. She tells me to recycle because this pleases them and will bring favor to me (btw, I am not "green" and don't recycle anything! I know, I know, I’m terrible!). I am biting my lip because I feel like laughing at this point. But I am trying to stay open and see if there really is something here, so I take a deep breath and try to listen to her.
She begins flipping over the large cards which represent different areas of my life then turns over the smaller cards to get more detail about each of these areas. As she talks, I am becoming more convinced that what she is doing has some merit. I try very hard not to say anything that might give her clues about me or my life, just to see how much she comes up with on her own and, I gotta say, she is pretty damn good. My favorite part was when she told me I needed a vacation! Seriously, she did tell me some interesting things that I did find relevant to my life. And she said that I should be open to new opportunities because something would present itself in the next two months and by the beginning of April I would recognize it. I guess we will see about that....
When the reading was about over, she asked if I had any other questions for her. At this point, Sammi had climbed into my lap and had been listening intently to what Sharon was saying. I couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking. Sharon told Sammi that since she had be so good and quiet that she could pick a card to show me what she is helping me with in my life. Sammi picked a card and when she turned it over I couldn't help but smile. The card said "moving forward fearlessly" and Sharon said that is what Sammi was helping me do. I couldn't agree more. If nothing else in that reading was true, that card hit the nail on the head.
I have had too many experiences in my life that don't have any logical explanation which also makes me think there might be something to it. For instance, I will think I see someone that I haven't seen in a long time, but it won’t' be them, and then within a week I will see the person I thought I saw. It might just be a coincidence but I don't think so. Plus there is the whole twin thing. There have been so many times where Charlene and I have felt something for each other, or done the same things at the same time without discussing it. There were several times in college where we saw each other on campus in the middle of the day and we'd be wearing the same thing totally unplanned. We even bought the same book on the same day once when she was living in D.C. and I was in Atlanta. Hell, I was the one who told her she was pregnant! So there has to be something to all if it...and it is incredibly intriguing to me.
So I took the opportunity this project gave me to explore a little of this, and decided to have my tarot cards read. I had thought about doing this several times before but never really had the nerve to do it. What if she gave me horrible news? What if she told me I was dying or that my life was gonna suck for the next year or so? I worry enough, I am thinking that I don't need someone validating that I really do have shit to worry about. But it's time to suck it up and see what the cards have to tell me.
Google told me that there was really only one place here in Cincinnati where I could get a tarot card reading so I was headed out to Amethyst Books and Gifts. I had planned to go before i had to pick Sammi up from school but the place did not open until 11, so Sammi was going to have to make the trip. This oughta be interesting......
Amethyst Gifts and Books was a cute little shop smelling of incense and filled with all kinds of cool books about astrology and everything you would need for mediation, yoga or anything else to connect with your spirituality. It was immediately calming, even Sammi wasn't running all around trying to grab everything. I approached the desk and told the woman there that I had come for my tarot card reading. She told me that Sharon would be doing the reading and she was getting set up for me. The reading was to last for thirty minutes and I was a little worried about how Sammi would do during that time. I had contemplated bringing her portable dvd player but remembered that she is prone to reciting the show/movie and singing the songs loudly so I nixed that idea. Candy always works to tame the beast that is Sammi, so I had a big bag of M&M's along with two or three lollipops. That should buy me thirty minutes (I hope!).
Finally after browsing the store and finding about twelve books I wanted to buy, Sharon was ready for me. Sammi and I follow her into a small, dimly lit room where there is a little table set up with three chairs. We get settled into our chairs (Sammi with the bag of M&M's) and start the reading. Sharon explains to me that I will "guide the proceeds" and that she will audio tape if for me so that I can go home and listen to it again if I want. I am wondering how much information she is going to give me in thirty minutes that I won’t' remember it and will need a tape to remind me! She starts the timer and the tape deck, then tells me to choose a stack of cards to begin with. There are three stacks of large cards, about the size of my hand, and a stack of smaller, playing card sized cards. The large cards are face down and they have different pictures on the backs of them. Already I am starting to sweat because I know that the deck I choose is going to say something about me and I want to choose the "right" one, whichever that one is. I hesitate and then pick the middle deck that has what looks to be a butterfly on the back. Sharon tells me that these are the fairy cards which mean I have a connection to the fairies that represent the earth and Mother Nature. Uh...okay. She tells me to recycle because this pleases them and will bring favor to me (btw, I am not "green" and don't recycle anything! I know, I know, I’m terrible!). I am biting my lip because I feel like laughing at this point. But I am trying to stay open and see if there really is something here, so I take a deep breath and try to listen to her.
She begins flipping over the large cards which represent different areas of my life then turns over the smaller cards to get more detail about each of these areas. As she talks, I am becoming more convinced that what she is doing has some merit. I try very hard not to say anything that might give her clues about me or my life, just to see how much she comes up with on her own and, I gotta say, she is pretty damn good. My favorite part was when she told me I needed a vacation! Seriously, she did tell me some interesting things that I did find relevant to my life. And she said that I should be open to new opportunities because something would present itself in the next two months and by the beginning of April I would recognize it. I guess we will see about that....
When the reading was about over, she asked if I had any other questions for her. At this point, Sammi had climbed into my lap and had been listening intently to what Sharon was saying. I couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking. Sharon told Sammi that since she had be so good and quiet that she could pick a card to show me what she is helping me with in my life. Sammi picked a card and when she turned it over I couldn't help but smile. The card said "moving forward fearlessly" and Sharon said that is what Sammi was helping me do. I couldn't agree more. If nothing else in that reading was true, that card hit the nail on the head.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
There's nothing to fear but fear itself...bullshit! - Day 30 of 35 days to 35
I have never claimed to be a particularly rational person. I am emotional, some might even say a bit unreasonable and flighty at times. I prefer to say random. I am very, VERY random. It’s not my fault really, how could I not be random? I am a black identical twin who grew up in Alaska, has lived in nine states and likes all music, even country. See, not my fault! So I don't really feel like I have to explain why I have some very random fears. I’m not scared of typical things like heights or small spaces. I'm scared of things that most people take for granted.
The biggest of these fears seems to center around reptiles and amphibians...basically anything is or looks slimy. I blame it on being raised in Alaska where it was far too cold for those ugly things to live. So I did not grow up chasing lizards, seeing garter snakes and playing with frogs. (Although there were some small frogs around with which the boys in the enjoyed torturing me, but you know what I mean). Tons of people are scared of snakes, so that is not really that random, but I, am completely, utterly, paralyzingly terrified of lizards. Trust me people, this is not an overstatement. It is a phobia, a full fledged, panic attack inducing phobia. And it's not just the big ugly ones I hate, it's the little so-called cute ones too. F-ing geckos! I hate them! Even the stupid little cartoon one on the Geico commercials, I wish someone would just step on him.
People always laugh and say "they are more scared of you than you are of them" or "you know could just step on it and kill it". To that I say....look up the definition of phobia: an IRRATIONAL fear. It’s not supposed to make sense. Yes, I know they run from people and yes, in theory I could crush one very easily but that is of no consequence. I see them and I freeze. Far away, close up, behind glass, it doesn't matter, I have pretty much the same response: sheer and utter terror.
I have never really liked them but I blame the intensity of my phobia on my dad (mom, you're off the hook on this one!). He scarred me for life with his attempt to shock me out of my fear of lizards. Seriously. Scarred for life. I was eight and our family had spent Christmas in Miami with my grandparents and other extended family. One of the reasons I hated (and still hate) going to Miami is because of the abundance of lizards. Those little bastards are everywhere. Whenever I know lizards are around I look for them to make sure they don't get too close but in Miami it's damn near impossible to find them all. Ugh, I hate even thinking about it. Anyway, so one evening as we are leaving my great grandmother's house the subject of this fear comes up. My great grandma's house had a screened in porch and she always kept the light on, even at night. So when it got dark, all of the lizards decided to stick to the screen (just to taunt me I am certain). Along with that, the sidewalk from the house to the street was lined on both dies with big lizard-filled hedges that creeped me the hell out. I came up with a great strategy to avoid the lizards, though; I would kiss and hug my great grandmother then run, literally run, from the safety of the house to the safety of the street. See, I figured if I was not by grass, I would remain safe from the lizards. Everyone in my family knew this plan, and even though they thought it was silly, they understood because they knew how afraid I was.
This particular night, my dad apparently decided that he would help me get over this fear. So I hug my great grandmother and prepare to make my dash to the road. It is important to note here that I had an arm full of Barbies because it was Christmas and Santa had been very good to me. Okay so as I prepare to make my dash, I feel heaviness on my left shoulder and I am unable to make run. I look up into my dad's smirking face and realize that this is not going to end well.
"Where are you going? Why are you running?" my dad says, all innocent like he doesn’t see my increasing panic. "Why don't you walk with me?"
I try to squirm away but it is impossible to get out of his grip. I am trying to walk as fast as I can but I am dragging a 220 pound man and he is just not going anywhere. I can feel my heart beating faster and faster, and I am starting to shake. All I can think is I have to get to the street, I HAVE to get to the street. We start down the sidewalk and I can feel the tears coming. This is seriously the worst thing that has happened in all of my eight years. And then it gets worse.
I feel something hit my right shoulder at the same time I hear my dad say "there's a lizard on you!"
I am sure what you are imagining next is not even a portion of the madness that was about to ensue. All I remember is throwing my Barbies up in the air, running to the street and being completely unable to stop screaming. I mean hysterical, someone-is-trying-to-kill-me screaming. My whole body is shaking and I swear I am about to die any moment. The next thing I remember, my mother is beside me trying to calm me down and my great grandmother is chasing my dad with the broom shouting "You're gonna give that baby a heart attack! What’s wrong with you?!"
I am not sure I ever really calmed down that night. I cried and shook the whole way back to my grandmother's house where we were staying and I remember lying in bed still freaked the hell out. Needless to say my mother was less than impressed with my father's tactics to scare my fear out of me (really? that logic made sense to him? come on!), and he was in the dog house for a few days. His antics had the exact opposite effect on me; if I was scared of lizards before that night, I was 100% phobic after that incident.
So see it's not my fault.
I have tried to address the phobia in my adult life. It really is a hindrance to me; every time someone mentions how nice it would be to lounge on a tropical beach, all I can think if is THERE ARE LOTS OF LIZARDS THERE! So things that should be enjoyable are marred by this fear of lizards and my insane need to look for them if I know they are around. I have tried looking at pictures and TV shows with lizards on them to try to desensitize myself to them but nothing works. I have tried to go into the reptile house at the zoo and I just can't make my feet carry me through the door. I really, really tried. But the last time I seriously had a panic attack before I even made it to the door. But I have to try again, I have to get over this phobia and this 35 days project is about the only way I will be able to bring myself to come face to face with my nemesis.
Colleen is trying to suppress her giggles and agrees to go in and do some recon for me. She comes back pretty quickly and says "In the middle of the room, you have your run of the mill alligator. Then to the left are the lizards and then the snakes are on the right." Wait a minute....run of the mill alligator?! WTF?! Like we see those nasty things every day walking down the street or something. Good God. I am never gonna be able to do this. I try to remind myself to breathe and I hear myself gulp...literally like in cartoons where you hear the characters gulp loudly, I really did that. Damn, I must be scared. My hands are shaking so I jam them in my pockets and try to tell myself to calm down. 
P.S. You can thank Colleen for the lovely photos documenting this fiasco!
Monday, February 1, 2010
What's all the fuss about? - Day 29 of 35 days to 35
For as much as I love to be original, I definitely have a need to fit in. I jokingly say all the time that I am trying to be one of the cool kids, but it really isn't THAT much of a joke. I like to think of myself as trendy and want to be in the know about all of the coolest and latest things. Fashion magazines (and my 21 year old niece) help me stay abreast of the latest fashions and I rely on satellite radio to keep me on the cutting edge of music. If there is a new trend in food, I will at least think about trying it (need I remind you of my food issues) and I was one of the first to sip on cosmos after Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and charlotte made it cool. So you can imagine how I felt when the coffee, or should I say, Starbucks craze hit the nation. I don't drink coffee or any coffee related drink, so all I could do is stare with jealous eyes at all of the cool kids with their Starbucks cups. Yes I do drink tea but it's just not the same. I longed to walk up to the counter and order some sort of complicated latter or cappuccino drink. I tried like hell to find something that I like on the menu so that I could at least fake it. I was happy to learn that they do serve camel apple cider which I love (without the caramel of course!) so I can walk around with my Starbucks cup and be a cool kid.
So many of the people in my life really, really love coffee. I mean an obsessive love, an I-have-to-have-it-or-I’ll-hurt-somebody love. It can't just be the caffeine, there are plenty of other things that pack just as good a caffeine punch as coffee, so it must be something differ, something else. I always said I didn't like coffee, but to be fair I had never tried it. I like the smell of it, so that's a start, but I have always been hesitant to try it. I am already addicted to Pepsi and sugar so really I don't need to add another vice but apparently this is one of those things that "everyone" does so I have to at least try to get on the bandwagon.
I decided if I was going to try coffee, I would go to the mecca of coffee houses, Starbucks, of course. This is the place where even people on a budget will happily drop five dollars a day on one of their many cups of wonder, so I figured there really was no other choice. I walked into my neighborhood Starbucks and was thankful that there was a line so I had time to figure out what to order. I work to tear my eyes away from the pastry display (look at those cookies!!) and gaze up at what can only be described as the most confusing bunch of madness I have ever seen. Are you kidding me with this? Are there really this many choices of coffee? Really? How the hell am I supposed to know what to order? I just want coffee. I don't even know what a macchiato is! Shit. And I will look like a complete ass if I walk up there and say "I want a cup of coffee." There is now only one person in front of me and I am no closer to knowing what to order than when I walked in. It’s gonna be my turn, shit, it's gonna be my turn!
"Hi! What can I get ya?"
She is way too happy right now. My guess is she has been drinking more coffee than she is serving. I still have no idea what to order but I am too embarrassed to admit that to her and ask for help.
"Um, I'm just going to have one of those cookies," I mumbled.
I am so pissed at myself but I just couldn't bring myself to say "I've never had coffee before so what should I order?" Inevitably should would have looked at me like I had a third arm growing from the middle of my chest and I would have just felt dumb. So I chickened out.
I did have a backup plan, though. I had heard that the coffee at speedway gas station was pretty good and I would have to pass one on my way home, so I would just get coffee there. I am sure, at 7 PM there will not be a bunch of people hanging out at the coffee pot so I should be able to figure out this coffee madness in peace. Plus I had gotten advice from colleen as to what to get if I did go to speedway (I had a feeling I might lose my nerve in Starbucks). She recommended French vanilla coffee. I'm not really sure what that is but I am thinking it should be pretty easy to figure it out. I had decided that I would get a French vanilla coffee as well as a regular coffee. I figure if I am going to try coffee, I have to be true to the process and try just plain old black coffee as well as the French vanilla thing.
Thankfully, when I arrive at speedway, the only other person there is the kid working the counter with eight piercings in his head. At least if I have to ask someone I won't feel dumb, he has holes all in his head for God's sake! I walk over to the coffee corner and am confused right away. There are two pots of coffee that look like they have been sitting there for a while. Then there is a machine that looks like a soda fountain but instead of soda it dispenses things like mocha cappuccino and fat free French vanilla cappuccino. I am not sure if this is what colleen was talking about so I reach for my phone to call her and realize I left it in the car. DAMMIT! I glance over at pierced boy and he is texting frantically and playing with his tongue ring. (Insert big long, pitiful sigh here.) I guess I’m on my own. I fill one cup with regular coffee and grab four creamers. Now it's back to this damn machine again. I am guessing this is what colleen meant when she said French vanilla coffee so I fill my second cup with this light brown stuff that smells kind of like chocolate (I thought this was supposed to be vanilla!) and head home.
sitting at my table staring at the two steaming cups of joe I am struck with how often in this process if have been sitting in this exact spot looking at something I had no desire to consume but feeling as if I had no choice. This will be the LAST thing I put in my mouth against my will! I pour some of the black coffee in a separate cup because I want to taste it like that but then add cream and sugar to it. I would bet all of my shoes (that's HUGE for me!) that I will hate this, but I’m being true to the project so here goes. I planned to take a big sip but as soon as that bitter stuff touched my tongue I slammed the cup back on the table. EWWWWW. That was seriously nasty. I am hoping that there is some sort of crazy magic in those little packs of creamer and sugar but it's not looking good. I decide to try the French vanilla cappuccino next. I am actually pretty hopeful about this. I love vanilla and am thinking that this might be my "in" to the coffee cool kids club. I take a good sized drink of the cappuccino and have to force myself to swallow it. Okay, that was nasty too. And it damn sure didn't taste vanilla-y to me! It tasted more like chocolate (which I am allergic to and HATE) and is really giving my gag reflex a workout. I am not sure I will be able to bring myself to try the last coffee option. I stall by adding two creamers and several mounds of sugar to the once-black coffee. I pray to the sugar gods; dear sugar, you know I love you, I am a loyal friend and will be for life. Please sugar, make this coffee drinkable. Amen.
Sugar betrayed me. I spit it back in the cup almost as soon as it was in my mouth. That shit is nasty. Seriously, I have NO idea how people drink that crap every day. If that is my ticket in, I will so not be one of the cool kids and I don't even care. Y’all can HAVE coffee, I’ll stick to faking it with my apple cider filled Starbucks cup!
So many of the people in my life really, really love coffee. I mean an obsessive love, an I-have-to-have-it-or-I’ll-hurt-somebody love. It can't just be the caffeine, there are plenty of other things that pack just as good a caffeine punch as coffee, so it must be something differ, something else. I always said I didn't like coffee, but to be fair I had never tried it. I like the smell of it, so that's a start, but I have always been hesitant to try it. I am already addicted to Pepsi and sugar so really I don't need to add another vice but apparently this is one of those things that "everyone" does so I have to at least try to get on the bandwagon.
I decided if I was going to try coffee, I would go to the mecca of coffee houses, Starbucks, of course. This is the place where even people on a budget will happily drop five dollars a day on one of their many cups of wonder, so I figured there really was no other choice. I walked into my neighborhood Starbucks and was thankful that there was a line so I had time to figure out what to order. I work to tear my eyes away from the pastry display (look at those cookies!!) and gaze up at what can only be described as the most confusing bunch of madness I have ever seen. Are you kidding me with this? Are there really this many choices of coffee? Really? How the hell am I supposed to know what to order? I just want coffee. I don't even know what a macchiato is! Shit. And I will look like a complete ass if I walk up there and say "I want a cup of coffee." There is now only one person in front of me and I am no closer to knowing what to order than when I walked in. It’s gonna be my turn, shit, it's gonna be my turn!
"Hi! What can I get ya?"
She is way too happy right now. My guess is she has been drinking more coffee than she is serving. I still have no idea what to order but I am too embarrassed to admit that to her and ask for help.
"Um, I'm just going to have one of those cookies," I mumbled.
I am so pissed at myself but I just couldn't bring myself to say "I've never had coffee before so what should I order?" Inevitably should would have looked at me like I had a third arm growing from the middle of my chest and I would have just felt dumb. So I chickened out.
I did have a backup plan, though. I had heard that the coffee at speedway gas station was pretty good and I would have to pass one on my way home, so I would just get coffee there. I am sure, at 7 PM there will not be a bunch of people hanging out at the coffee pot so I should be able to figure out this coffee madness in peace. Plus I had gotten advice from colleen as to what to get if I did go to speedway (I had a feeling I might lose my nerve in Starbucks). She recommended French vanilla coffee. I'm not really sure what that is but I am thinking it should be pretty easy to figure it out. I had decided that I would get a French vanilla coffee as well as a regular coffee. I figure if I am going to try coffee, I have to be true to the process and try just plain old black coffee as well as the French vanilla thing.
Thankfully, when I arrive at speedway, the only other person there is the kid working the counter with eight piercings in his head. At least if I have to ask someone I won't feel dumb, he has holes all in his head for God's sake! I walk over to the coffee corner and am confused right away. There are two pots of coffee that look like they have been sitting there for a while. Then there is a machine that looks like a soda fountain but instead of soda it dispenses things like mocha cappuccino and fat free French vanilla cappuccino. I am not sure if this is what colleen was talking about so I reach for my phone to call her and realize I left it in the car. DAMMIT! I glance over at pierced boy and he is texting frantically and playing with his tongue ring. (Insert big long, pitiful sigh here.) I guess I’m on my own. I fill one cup with regular coffee and grab four creamers. Now it's back to this damn machine again. I am guessing this is what colleen meant when she said French vanilla coffee so I fill my second cup with this light brown stuff that smells kind of like chocolate (I thought this was supposed to be vanilla!) and head home.
sitting at my table staring at the two steaming cups of joe I am struck with how often in this process if have been sitting in this exact spot looking at something I had no desire to consume but feeling as if I had no choice. This will be the LAST thing I put in my mouth against my will! I pour some of the black coffee in a separate cup because I want to taste it like that but then add cream and sugar to it. I would bet all of my shoes (that's HUGE for me!) that I will hate this, but I’m being true to the project so here goes. I planned to take a big sip but as soon as that bitter stuff touched my tongue I slammed the cup back on the table. EWWWWW. That was seriously nasty. I am hoping that there is some sort of crazy magic in those little packs of creamer and sugar but it's not looking good. I decide to try the French vanilla cappuccino next. I am actually pretty hopeful about this. I love vanilla and am thinking that this might be my "in" to the coffee cool kids club. I take a good sized drink of the cappuccino and have to force myself to swallow it. Okay, that was nasty too. And it damn sure didn't taste vanilla-y to me! It tasted more like chocolate (which I am allergic to and HATE) and is really giving my gag reflex a workout. I am not sure I will be able to bring myself to try the last coffee option. I stall by adding two creamers and several mounds of sugar to the once-black coffee. I pray to the sugar gods; dear sugar, you know I love you, I am a loyal friend and will be for life. Please sugar, make this coffee drinkable. Amen.
Sugar betrayed me. I spit it back in the cup almost as soon as it was in my mouth. That shit is nasty. Seriously, I have NO idea how people drink that crap every day. If that is my ticket in, I will so not be one of the cool kids and I don't even care. Y’all can HAVE coffee, I’ll stick to faking it with my apple cider filled Starbucks cup!
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