Sunday, August 30, 2009

The Sleep Clinic

So at 2:30am I got up and went home. Let me explain; that sleep clinic was some BULLSHIT and not at all conducive to sleep. First of all, it was a little nook of a boutique-ish shop situated in a shopping center. There were only two sleep rooms and they rivaled the shabbiest of motels for most shabbiest. The mattress was really just a big block of foam, probably from Ikea, but manageable. And the pillows were strangely hard. Now, I've experienced uncomfortable pillows before but these were akin to stuffing a pair of jeans tightly into a pillow case. Luckily, I brought my own pillow, but I figured being a sleep clinic and all that they would have at least one pillow in the room that I could double mines up with. I only brought my satin covered one since my hair would be down and I didn't want it snagging in cheap cotton but their pillow was way too hard (and I'm not being a baby about this, trust me) and doubling them tilted my neck and head up unnaturally high so I chucked it and just laid semi-flat on mine. So there I lay, with no less than a hundred wires glued to my head, neck, scalp and legs, two prongs sticking out of my nose and a "snore mic" taped to my throat, trying to drift off the sleep. I was a trooper; I started thinking happy thoughts and made the most of the situation in the name of science and my health, but as soon as I started to drift off to sleep the entire ceiling shook and the A/C kicked in like it was being jumpstarted. My heart slammed against my rib cage and my eyes shot open. That's also about the time I started to smell smoke from the nearby brush fires. I wore pajama pants and a tshirt but that little airplane-quality blanket and lone top sheet weren't keeping me warm so my muscles were tense. After about 20 minutes of trying to make do, I knocked on the wall and asked the sleep tech for another blanket. She brought me one but decided to turn the air down. So now I'm hot :/ Then I hear her in the next room talking to the other sleep patient, trying to hook his wires up. When that was done roughly 15 minutes later I tried even harder to think happy thoughts so that I could fall asleep. It was working and as I was fading I heard her yapping on the phone to someone. WTF!? I woke right up. Then the A/C jolted on again and startled the hell out of me. Then I heard a super hype cricket going to town somewhere. It was all a great big mess. By this time I was so stressed that I think it's going to be impossible for me to sleep in that place. Plus, I'm hungry and thinking about pancakes because they instructed me not to eat past 6:30pm and my last meal had been at 4:30pm. I knocked on the wall again, told the sleep tech it wasn't going to work, had her unhook me and I drove home at 2:30am with sticky gook in my head, on my face and on my neck. Once home, I took a shower, washed my hair and slept like an infant. The experiment was not a success.

Friday, August 28, 2009

There's something about Friday's that lifts me up. I know, maybe it's because I'm free and have no work tomorrow! Yes, this week was trying for me. I'm about at the end of my rope so the end of the week couldn't have come soon enough. There's far too much on my plate right now so I need to create a plan stat to organize it all and get it done. This morning I was feeling so much better than earlier this week, that I spent my extra 15 minutes curling my entire head. It's not a perfect look but it looks good enough for a beginner. I know next time I need to pay more attention to my ends.
Anyway, tomorrow night I go to the sleep clinic. They told me to bring my pj's, shower and wash my hair first, and don't use any lotion or hair products. Um...that's not going to happen. Sure, I'll shower and wash my hair but there is NO way I'm walking up in there ashy and fuzzy about the head. Nuh-uh. I wouldn't be able to sleep worrying about it, lol. Maybe that's OCD *shrug. I'm also a little worried about the atmosphere at that place. Like, can I lock my door? Am I sharing a room or alone? I may not get any sleep if I don't feel safe, which will defeat the purpose of my going. As a matter of fact, if I can't at least lock my door I may opt out and go home. But I trust that I'm not the first person to feel this way and they've probably made accommodations for folks like me, so I'm going to show up. I'm still asking though.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Last night I laid in bed and witnessed the official death of a long long term relationship. Although we've been broken up for a while now, I think it was finally really laid to rest last night. For some reason, memories, the whole of our 15 year relationship from the very beginning when I was 16 until now played in my head. How we came to be, the good and the bad, the break ups in between, and finally how we ended. In the space of three hours I laid there and watched it all play out in my head like a movie. So much clarity like never before. It wasn't until after 1am that I fell asleep and now I sit here at my desk tired as hell and practically unable to function but I'm strangely content after having relived some experiences that I wanted to forget. That I HAD forgotten. I felt the pain all over again, and in some instances two-fold because hindsight is a mother sucker. I woke up resolved on how I want to spend the rest of my life having been unsure before. To say that I'm over it would be a lie, though. I still hurt and I'm still angry about a lot of things but I'm working towards letting that go. I've been working towards that for a few years now, actually but last nights epiphany truly helped push me farther along than I was. When we finally split and ended our lease together, he acted sad and said "I don't think the nail is in the coffin for us yet?" He posed that statement as a question, I guess waiting for me to agree and give him hope. But I never responded. As of right now though, dirt is being tossed into that grave. Finally... laid to rest.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Women in Recovery

I was out running errands today when I passed a young woman standing on a corner holding a sign that read "Car wash $5, Women in Recovery." One of the items on my list of things to do today was to wash my super dirty car, so I doubled back around the block and pulled into their driveway. On my mind was killing two birds with one stone: clean car while simultaneously helping out my sisters who are trying to help themselves. When I pulled to the back of the driveway, women ranging in age from maybe 18-40, black, white, and latina were hard at work, washing and windexing with a little boom box playing the Black Eye'd Peas' "Weekend Girl." Just watching them was uplifting. There's something wonderful about watching a human being working towards recovering from whatever it was that was extinguishing their soul. A house full of healing women and I wished I could help them all somehow fulfill their dreams. I took a seat in the shade next to a little blonde girl who hunched over shyly at the other end of the bench, and waited, made a bit of small talk with whoever was listening. When my car was finished, I remembered that my next stop was to be at Goodwill to drop off two bags of clothing - one bag of clothes, one bag of shoes - since I'd just cleaned out my closet. So I asked the ladies if they accepted donations and they LIT UP! Like I was Santa Claus, lol. "She brought DoNo's yall!" one of the ladies screamed and then there was a chorus of 'thank yous' as they all surrounded the girl holding my bags . I suddenly felt that my modest donations were inadequate. I mean, I barely recall what was in those bags because when I'd packed them I didn't have recipients in mind. Pink Adidas...um, a pair of black and white sneakers, loafers, a couple of mini skirts...um... but hardly anything worthy of such excitement. So I paid double for my car wash, hopped in the car and left before they could rifle through my "DoNo's". Target was down the street so I went there to pick up a few things. Mainly, a pair of rubber rain boots for my backyard and that stupid waste of money, pool that I have to clean out. But that's another story. Anyway, on my way back home from Target I had to pass by the car wash again and this time the little shy blonde girl that I had been sitting next to was standing on the corner with a couple of others and she smiled and waved at me :) She smiled with her whole face and waved like an excited little kid. I felt absolutely fabulous! Maybe I did have some good stuff in those bags. Maybe they just appreciated the sentiment. In either case, it prompted me to go home and go through more of my clothes so tomorrow I'm taking two more bags.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Me and the Bee

Today as I walked out of my building for lunch I was attacked by a great, big, black bee. At least I think it was a bee. It was certainly big and black and buzzing. I was wearing a dress and heels today because we had a client meeting (I'm usually in flats and something less stiffy) and as soon as I stepped out into the sunshine and the parking lot I was greeted by a fat, pesky bee all in my face like it was trying to land on my nose. My first reaction was to lean back and kind of shoo at it, thinking it would realize I wasn't a flower or a tree and buzz off. But it kept coming and buzzing towards my face! There were tons of people in that parking lot and all eyes were on me. So I tried to play it off and took a few steps back, nervously smiling for my audience. But it STILL wouldn't fly away. In fact, it buzzed really loudly around my head and then darted at my face again so I ducked, screamed and ran off clutching my purse. Rudy, the guy from Operations yelled out "Run Val! RUN!" and I did. So fast that I almost came out of my shoes, lol. Finally, I managed to evade my nemesis and began walking to my car. A woman walking by me said "You weren't going to let him get you, huh?" :/ It was so embarrassing. I gave quite a few people a good laugh, including an old lady in a wheel chair who clapped and smiled at me as I walked by her and her nurse. :)

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Genuine Happiness: It's socially unacceptable

I don't know why I sometimes have this need to prove to people that I'm happy. You ever find yourself feeling bad because someone else thinks that you should? Like people taking pity on you because in their mind your circumstances make them feel uncomfortable, wouldn't suit them, or are just socially viewed as indesirable? For instance, staying in on a Friday night. After working all week I can find a myriad of wonderful, creative, relaxing, happy things to do that don't require strobe lights, drunks, and thumping, wall reverberating music. Yet for some odd reason staying in comfortably at home on this particular night is socially unacceptable, lol. I love my house! I often say this as if I'm trying to convince myself but really I am trying to convince others and I don't know why. I've decorated so that my home is comfortable for me and I've done it so well that I often never want to leave. My son, young and full of curiosity and energry, hates this. He'd rather be outside 75% of the time exploring the world. But me, at 34 the only thing I'm curious about outside my door is really how comfortable my yard is to sit in. (That's on my long list of things to do, actually. Fixing up the yard) I mean, I'd love to travel and I do it as much as my money and time will allow me to but I always can't wait to get home. My feelings go like this: I came, I saw, it was wonderful! Now lets go home.
Other than the Friday night thing, people for some reason find it hard to believe that anyone (let alone a WOMAN *gasp!) can be happy being single. So much so that they've sometimes been able to convince me that I should also feel bad about it, lol. Like, woe is me, I can roll around my queen-sized bed without having to make room for anyone else :( I can read until 2am with the light on, or watch Saturday Night Live and Cheaters without someone bugging me to turn the TV off so that they can sleep. I can go days with stubble on my legs and not notice because no one is around to remind me. I can decide not to cook, go out to eat, or deliver in without consulting another person, not fight over the bathroom or my hair shedding all over it. I can wake up at 8, scatter magazines all over the bed and floor and do "research". There's no one to check in with so I seize the day and night as I please. There's also no one to worry or wonder about (I tend to labor over wondering what my lovers are doing until the devil drives me mad), or anyone to clean up after. How sad...
Nope. Nothing. Don't feel it. I've tried and as soon as I'm reminded of the aforementioned and my past relationships, I'm well aware of my contentment :) During my experiments of the last year, I've concluded that dating is overrated. I've yet to meet someone I find terribly fascinating, which is what I desire and in my current comfort zone - this house and my luxurious "me" time, I'm not at all pressed to find them. I figure one day in my peaceful oblivion I will happily stumble upon someone I like and after a whirlwind of intrigue and sex and excitement has worn thin I'll remember what I'm missing - my peaceful, free-spirited, detached existence where I get to roll around and be rude and rank with no one but myself to offend. No need to purge, merge, or compromise. But maybe next time I won't miss being single. Maybe I'll actually like my mate and won't mind him sticking around. However, you can't miss what you don't have.
Anyway, at this time in my life I can unequivocally say that I am happy. "But what about more kids and dying alone!" my silly friend might say. To which I will respond "I'll worry about the future when it gets here." In the meantime, I'm carrying on with my life as it is. Happily.

Monday, August 10, 2009

My son is at the age where he's really starting to feel himself

Last week at Penney's when we were buying him shorts he found a sleeveless slinky adidas shirt he wanted me to buy him. I'm all for him expressing himself as long as he doesn't embarrass me in the process so I was game for buying him the shirt. But he picked up a size small...and he was serious. There was no way on earth I was going to let him walk out of that store with that tight ass t-shirt so, luckily, his annoying ass dad talked him out of it over the phone and ended our arguing. He sulked a bit but got over it.
Fast forward to Saturday and we're perusing Marshall's. He comes over to me in the dress section with two Under Armour brand shirts, visibly excited. Rats, I think. He see's my apprehension and tells me that he's just interested in working out in them. And since they're relatively cheap I agree to buy them on the condition that they fit. So off to the Fitting Room we went. The black one was flattering, the white one was snug and I could see his nipples through it. Not cute. But he swears he's working out in our garage in this shit so I don't challenge it. How about just today he tried wearing that white tiddy top shirt to the dentist!? He comes traipsing into the living room in some cargo shorts, that super smedium sexy white shirt, and a hat cocked to the side looking like a zip damn fool. I just glared at him and said no. My mother wants me to encourage his freedom of expression which would be fine if he weren't out with me in public. And even if he isn't with me he looks just like me so everyone will know he's mines. I am not about to allow him to embarrass me like that. I may have to hide that white shirt. Or destroy it.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

My Friday night

I never thought I would NOT enjoy a Frankie Beverly concert but last night I didn't. The acoustics inside the Nokia Theater were horrendous. It sounded more like garbled noise than music and I could barely make out the words to my favorite songs, which totally through off my singing. Ugh. By the time they did "I wanna thank you," my favorite song, I'd had it and was ready to go home to bed. I had the time of my life at last years concert and was on a cloud for days after. Anyway, seeing all the fashion my peoples put on last night has made me want to go shopping in the worse way. I saw the most FIERCE distressed/destroyed jeans I have ever seen and I must find them or a comparable pair. Sooo HOT, these britches were. Plus, prior to going out I had a surprisingly tough time trying to find something in my closet to wear last night. I just knew I had something decent but I was oh so wrong. It was then that I'd realized I haven't been shopping for "going out" clothes in ages. So I ended up wearing my trusty old reliable heather pink dress, which is still a winner apparently. On my way out of the venue I got a lot of stares, smiles and head nods. Then one guy said "You are wearing that dress, baby girl." Baby girl. HA. It made me smile though...and I'd needed that. Another dude told me I had nice "stems." Aaaah, good ol validation.
After the show Bilal was playing at the Conga Room with free admittance to Maze ticket holders. But I was beat from having worked all day and being up since 6am, so I bid thee all well, kissed & hugged my folks and split. I wanted to go to the farmers market this morning so I'd planned to get into bed early but I just had to find those distressed jeans. Down the internet hole I went at midnight and by the time I stopped searching it was 2am. I found these though:
http://www.shopnastygal.com/products/new/clothing/bottoms/Bleach-And-Destroy-Jeans.html
I hope they fit. You can never tell with online size charts. Except for Ann Taylor.com. Everything is true to size and fits perfectly. You can't go wrong with their stuff. Anyway, these are nowhere NEAR as nice as the ones ol girl at the concert was wearing. But they'll do.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

More kitchen pictures

As promised, here are some more pictures of my itty bitty kitchen. When I purchased my stainless steel fridge I thought it was much too pretty to be cluttered up with refrigerator magnets. So I downsized my collection of magnets considerably and placed my favorites (the ones I couldn't bear to part with) on the side rather than on the front of the door. Below are pics of my cookie jar, liquid soap dispensers that are shaped like a hamburger, hotdog and strawberry shake, my cabinets in progress, and a few other knick knacks.
Update on the wall: New York wallpaper Company finally got back to me about my wallpaper roll and, just as I feared, the roll was discontinued in December 2008. I just missed it.










jukebox cookie jar, menu holder, and refrigerator magnets










When you press the door on this little diner magnet a waitress says "BLT! Hold the mayo! Whoops!" and then she drops what sounds like a tray full of food and dishes.











Cheese spreaders that look like a bbq grill, hotdog, hamburgers, and ketchup, aprons I made for me and my son (when he was little and liked to cook. Now all he likes to do is eat). I'm working on painting the cabinets red.








Sunday, August 2, 2009

I bought baby shoes today

And it made me feel so good inside. There were kids all over the store, trying on shoes, running around, dancing, spinning, happy, singing, kindly requesting balloons (one little Asian girl said "May I have an extra balloon for my sister, please?") and it was the sweetest thing. For a good 10 minutes, I wanted to have a baby again. Then I walked over to the handbag section and snapped out of it.
I went to Nordstrom because today was the last day of their sale and since Christopher will be turning 1 in a couple of weeks and walking, I decided to buy him shoes. There is something about miniature shoes and clothes that turns my motherly instincts on full blast. They are the cutest things.

Here's Chris (he grabs my hair and/or face and open mouth kisses me on sight. It's so gross yet funny to me.)








and here are the shoes I decided to buy him for his birthday (sooo cute!)