Stir Crazy!!!

First off, our villain of the week (Kristin, you're welcome.):

Second off, my story for the day:

I was talking to my bestest Fren in the whole wide world last night (til 2 in the AM to be exact) and he challenged me. The good thing about challenges from Fren are that they will be rewarding. The bad thing about challenges from Fren is that they're HARD!

Last night, he said something to the effect that I post too much on Facebook and he challenged me to not link my blog to my Facebook for a week. I'm taking it a bit farther. I'm not posting ANYTHING on Facebook for a week.

At first, this was my face:

His reasoning behind it was sound, but hard to deal with nontheless. A) I need to stop thinking everyone's interested in what's going on in my life. B) I'll see who my REAL friends are, i.e. who's actually interested?

I even changed the wallpaper on my phone to remind me "No Facebook until February 15th!"

I woke up hopeful... then I realized it's snowed a million trillion inches and I'm stuck at work with nothing to do. It's going something like this:


(That's my snow day hair.)


(That's my "WHAT THE HECK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW?!?!" face.)

On one hand, I'm excited to see what comes from this experiment. On the other hand, I'm scared. On a borrowed from someone else hand, I AM addicted to Facebook, so I need to stop being addicted.

So yeah. If you need something from me this week, text or email me. If you actually want to know what's going on in my life, check the blog (provided you remember the address...) and if you're just talking to me because you want to get to my roommate, bugger off.

This video isn't as random as it seems...

Stupid Cupid

Getting ready this morning, I heard one of my favorite songs:

"Watch out cupid stuck me with a sickness
Pull your little arrows out I wanna live my life..."

Yeah. What Metric said.

Then I got to thinking and I realized that there are lots of different arrows when it comes to this time of year.

There are arrows of love.
There are arrows of happiness.
There are arrows of loss.
There are arrows of bitterness.
There are arrows of disappointment.

Arrows. I has them.

I was watching a Hallmark commercial the other day and part of me was like "Awwww... that's sweet." and part of me wanted to blow my TV up. It said some gobbledeegook about "Valentines day isn't about how much I love you, it's about how much I love US."

GAG.

On one hand, it's a lovely sentiment...if you're in that season of your life. On the other hand, doesn't Hallmark know how many SINGLE people there are in the world?

Now, I try really hard not to be sad this time of year. I'm not one of those singles who goes around saying "I HATE VALENTINES DAY WITH THE INTENSITY OF A THOUSAND SUNS!!!" It's just not like that. Yes, I'm sad that I don't have anyone to share the holiday with ROMANTICALLY, but that doesn't mean the day is a total loss.

Even when I was in a relationship, Valentine's day was never made into a big deal. (The expectation was always there...)

How many non-singles are just as dissatisfied with the day as singles are?

I remember one Valentine's Day in particular. It was 2007 and I had a friend living with me in my apartment. Boy, THAT seems like a whole lifetime ago. Haha. My friend and her boyfriend were going to Wichita for dinner and a movie. At this point, my ex and I were engaged and we'd never really done anything special for Valentine's Day. After 3 years together, we decided we'd actually go out of town and do something for once. I was elated.

I was working for a local Optometrist at that point and on Mondays and Wednesdays we made popcorn for customers. We had just gotten a new popcorn machine for "Patient Appreciation Week" and we were getting used to using and cleaning it. We were all scrambling with closing procedures so we could get out of work on time and onto more exciting things. (Haha.)

One of the women I worked with had a really bad habit of starting something and then leaving it so I would have to finish it. I did not like her, but that's beside the point. R had set the popcorn machine a'cleanin and ran off to do something "more important". I asked her how many cups of water needed to go in the popper to clean it. "Six!", she said as she rushed around the corner. So I put six cups of water in the popper and set it for it's second cleaning. After the 15 minutes it was supposed to go, I got out the pot to put the gross popcorn water in and tilted the popper. Instead of the the slight trickle of water that to came out of the popper the first time, a torrent of boiling water poured onto my left hand.

I tried to hide it. I calmly walked over to the sink and started putting cold water on my hand. Another one of my co-workers, MB, came around the corner and noticed what I was doing. It didn't take her long to figure out what had happened. All she had to do was look at the dripping popcorn machine and then at me with my bright red hand in the sink.

"KATE BURNED HER HAND!!!!! OMG!!!!! CALL THE EMERGENCY ROOM!!!!!"

The office manager comes in and asked what happened.

"I was just cleaning the popcorn machine and..."

R comes waltzing over.

"How many cups of water did you put in the machine?" she accused.

"Six... like you told me." I managed to squeak out.

"I NEVER TOLD YOU SIX!!!"

"Um, yeah. Ya did. But let's not argue at this time. My flesh is melting off." I wish I had actually said that, but I did not have the presence of mind at that time. What came out instead was "Whatever. Just finish it up. I'm going home."

But no.

They decided I needed to go to the Emergency Room. (After they pryed my engagement ring off my finger.) So here I was, walking down the sidewalk with my office manager, on the way to the ER. On VALENTINES DAY.

I called my Mom "I'm ok, I'm just on my way to the emergency room because I burned myself at work."

I called JP and left him a message "I'm fine, but I'll be late getting to my apartment. I'm going to the ER because I burned myself."

It was awesome. My office manager, my mom, my fiance, and myself all crammed into a tiny room while I was receiving conflicting information on my burn from a nurse and the Dr.

Bottom line, pain meds.

I spent my wonderful Valentine's Day evening in my pjs, high on Lortab, and eating McDonald's chicken McNuggets.

Expectations. They're killer.

But even if we aren't celebrating the way we think we should be, we can still concentrate on those that we love.

I still have every Valentine that my Dad has ever given to me and to this day, he's the only guy who's ever given me chocolates on February 14th. Like the year I was fourteen and I had just gotten my braces. He had to look all over town for something I could eat because everything had nuts and caramel in them and those are no-nos when you have a mouth full of metal. He ended up getting me a box of Russell Stover truffles. Every chocolate since then has been compared to those truffles! They were THAT good.

Things aren't always (or ever) going to happen the way we hope or plan. There are people in our lives who love us (pretty much) unconditionally and we just need to soak that up and be thankful. We need to be present and not running so hard after something we think we should have RIGHT NOW. If we do that, we can lose sight of what we have right in front of us.

This year, I am going to be single and I'm going to try my very hardest to be happy and content on Valentines Day.

Stupid Cupid, quit imposing on my life.

Make a card for THAT, Hallmark!

For Girls Only...

...Unless you're a guy who isn't easily disturbed. If you aren't, then by all means, continue to read.

Today is not going to have ANYTHING to do with happiness, deep spiritual meaning, Jesus loves me, etc.

TODAY, I AM GOING TO COMPLAIN.

If you don't like complaining, turn away.

Why am I going to complain? Because by golly, I deserve it today.

When I get to heaven, after I've said hello to my Heavenly Father, found my Granny Lewis and my Papa Hurl and given them both hugs, said "what up?" to some people I've never met before, and asked God where Sugar and Ebony are, I am making a beeline for Eve.

I might pull her hair. I might verbally assault her. I might punch her in the ovaries.

"WAS THAT STINKING PIECE OF FRUIT WORTH IT?!?!?!?!??! HUH?!?!?!?!" *WHA-BAM*

That's right, ladies. It's WWIII is going on. In my pants.

I didn't get a lick of sleep last night. I was just writhing in pain with the worst cramps I've had since I was 14. There was a lot of "God? Is this absolutely necessary? I'm not married. I'm not having a baby any time soon, can you just shut my baby making factory down until it's ready? PUHLEEEZZZEEE?????"

At 3:15 in the AM, my roommate texted me to tell me that she was over at our friend's house. M's water had broke, so she was going to stay the night with M & T's two year old son.

"My womb must be having sympathy pains." I texted back.

"Well, she's not having any contractions, so maybe you're having them for her. Either way, that's not helping either one of you." she replied.

Dear Uterine Lining,
Why must it hurt so bad for you to shed yourself? I mean, come on. Give a girl a break. Why are you semi-nice one month, and then like a ninja from hell the next? I just don't get it. BE YE KIND!
With much hatred,
Me



Seriously. It IS that intense.

And with that, we have a post full of complaining about bodily functions AND a super villain of the week! My Uterus.

Please send kind thoughts and ibuprofen dreams.

Friday! Woot!

I don't really know why I'm "woot"ing Friday. I mean, I was off almost the whole week. I guess it just seems like the appropriate thing to do, to "woot" Friday. We're raised with "TGIF", so we just expect it. Friday has also come to expect this. She likes being praised.

I turned on my music this morning and the first words that I hear are "You are good, You are good when there's nothing good in me..."

If that isn't the truest thing I've ever heard, I don't know what is.

I'm stuck in the "two steps forward, one step back" pattern. I'm trying not to beat myself up about it though, because even after taking one step back, I'm still one step forward, right?

I have days where I'm like "Ok, God! With Your help, I'm getting through this!" and I'm incredibly hopeful, and then I have days where I am like "I am so unworthy, why do I even try?" and I feel down. (Don't worry, today's a "Getting through this" day.)

Today, I'm just going to bask in the love of my Heavenly Father and push all else aside.

He is good, He is good when there's nothing good in me
He is love, He is love on display for all to see
He is light, He is light when the darkness closes in
He is hope, He is hope He has covered all my sin
The riches of His love will always be enough and nothing compares to His embrace.

Just a Thought.

I honestly feel like I can't top what I wrote yesterday. (Not that I'm not going to try.)

But I did want to share a quote that Uncle Scottie Dog shared with me yesterday. I just soaked it up all day.

"My deepest awareness of myself is that I am deeply loved by Jesus Christ and I have done nothing to earn it or deserve it."
-Brennan Manning

And there ya have it.

He won't reject us. :) No matter what, we're good enough for Him.

The "R" Word

I was sleeping snugger than a bug in a rug this morning. I can't remember what I was dreaming about, (but it was good) when I heard "Katie?"

I uttered a noise that most likely sounded like the screech of a Pterodactyl. And then I threw my blanket over my head like a mature person would do.

"Can I borrow your boots?"

"The ones that are like my childrens to me?" I thought, but I'm pretty sure all that came out of my mouth was "BRAAAAAAACK!"

"My tan ones are down here if you want to wear them."

"BRAAAAAAACK!"

After about 5 minutes of trying to go back to sleep, I got impatient and decided to just get up. And that's when I discovered THIS:


Attractive, eh? MMHMM!

Kristin, sorry I sounded like a Pterodactyl. Of course you can borrow my boots.

Now, on to non-boot talk.

I was going to write this blog yesterday, but I felt like it was a little heavier than I was prepared to go at that time. I needed some time to really wrap my head around it.

I've been reading the book "So Long, Insecurity" by Beth Moore for the last 6 months or so. (I'm a slow reader, OK?) When my Mom told me to read it, I rolled my eyes. (In my mind, of course. Don't EVER roll your eyes in front of your mother. You face almost certain peril.) I was thinking to myself "Thanks for implying that I'm insecure, Mom..."

I'm one of those people who just go around with a happy face all the time acting like nothing's wrong. (You'd never know that from this blog because this blog is my "release", I guess. But in real life, I just plaster on a smile and act like it's all good.)

I guess we all have areas where we're insecure, but I don't like to admit things like that. It just seems so.... messy.

ANYWAY, the book is incredible and everyone should read it. As I was reading on Monday, I came to chapter 5 which is entitled "Rooting it Out". You may have already guessed this, but it's about the different "roots" of insecurity. The roots she listed are as follows:

Instability in the home
A significant loss
REJECTION
Dramatic change
Personal limitations
Personal disposition
Our culture (chapter 6)
Pride (chapter 6)

I could kind of identify with some of the things she had to say about the instability and loss, but hooooo boy. When I saw the "R" word, I knew I was in trouble. I think I underlined everything she had to say in that portion of the chapter.

I was sitting there reading and I just had to put it down. I could go no further. I needed a break. It was just too painful, so I decided to get in the shower.

I don't know about y'all, but I have had some of my most life changing (and some "should've been life changing") conversations with God while I was in the shower. There's nothing to distract you in the shower. No phones, no computers, no TV. Sometimes there's music, but if you have those other things going on, you've got PROBLEMS. I left my music off that morning. I was too sad to even listen to music.

I was feeling pretty flippin low at that point. All the words, all the hurt, all the wounds had come flooding back with those two paragraphs I had read before deciding to lock myself in the shower.

I was just standing there, washing my hair and I was attempting to pray. You know how you have those days where you aren't even really praying. Sometimes you're just pleading "Please please please" over and over again about something. Sometimes you're just going "Lord, I don't even know." It was the latter.

"Why do I feel so worthless? Why do I feel so unloved? Why am I this way? Why do I have to be like that?"

And then I heard "You think that because he didn't love you, no one else ever will."

Yep. That's it. That's exactly my problem. Because the most important person in my life (at that point) rejected me, I gave myself a pass to feel like a piece of crap for the rest of my life.

I jumped out of the shower and wrote it down, it was that profound to me. I wrote "My eureka moment. January 31, 2011. He didn't love me, so no one else will. W.O.W."

(It was obviously a huge HUGE lie that I'd been feeding myself, and I know that friends and family were telling me the exact OPPOSITE of what I was telling myself, but sometimes you just have to figure it out on your own.)

Now, I was EXCITED to read the rest of the chapter. I will bore you with the four thoughts from that section that hit me the hardest.

"Given enough time rejection will set up a history to repeat itself over and over until the rejected person forms relationships based on the likelihood that she'll be rejected." Check.

"...the craziest, most uncharacteristic things I've ever done have occurred in the wake of a major rejection." Check.

"There's nothing like it to make you obsessed with someone you didn't even want." CHECK CHECK CHECK

"Rejection has a nasty way of making the healthy people we're hoping to attract hightail it like a scared rabbit in the opposite direction." Check? I don't know. I've never attracted a healthy person. POINT PROVEN! (Haha.)

Did this woman break into my mind and steal my life story while I was sleeping? Why didn't my Pterodactyl alarm go off? "BRAAAAAAACK"

I mean seriously. I've got some work to do. It broke my heart over and over again to read those words, but from the brokenness, I can see that healing is coming.

I was talking to God while I was in the shower (again) yesterday morning and I was like "God, I'm sick of all these stupid games. I don't want to be rejected again, it hurts. I want my life partner..."

"Do you want your LIFE partner? Or your RIGHT NOW partner?"

OUCH! I think He drew blood on that one. Touche, God. Touche.

So right now, I'm learning to get over rejection, and to get some patience.

I know I'm probably coming off as a super injured, super unapproachable person, but I'm really not. I've come a long way, even since December. I just need to start surrounding myself with better people. I need to make some better friends, and I need to hang out with some of the ones that I already have. The ones that support me instead of tearing me down.

I know I've said "I'm finally getting somewhere!" before, but I think it's real this time. (At least I HOPE so!)

Exercise.

Yesterday, after some very tough love (from a BOOK, nonetheless), I decided that change IS going to happen. (In several areas, but especially in the area of my weight.)

I'm not fat by any means, but I have gained more weight than I would like to admit. I weighed 105 until I was 20 years old. I was just a skinny skinny girl for a very long time. Then through a series of stupid life choices, I gained 40 pounds.

Yesterday, I just got flat out MAD so I remembered a workout DVD my boss had given me. (Now, before you think "HOW RUDE!!!" I need to explain that it was one she had purchased thinking it was something else and instead of returning it to the store, she gave it to me.)

The DVD? "Cardio Hip Hop".

I was desperate, people.

20 seconds in, I knew I was in trouble. I was doing some sort of pretzel move with an ab pop and a 360 deluxe.
It was intense. And I discovered why I wasn't a dancer. I am as uncoordinated as they come. My right leg was located somewhere in Zimbabwe, my left leg was in Russia, and my spine was somewhere in the Great White North.

Cordy was watching all this go down from the comfort of the couch. She looked like this:

She was concerned. And so was I. After a grand total of 183 seconds, I stopped the DVD. This was clearly not the workout for me.

Fast forward.

This morning, due to work being cancelled...again... I decided to give the workout thing another try. (Ugh.) I went to the "On Demand" menu on my cable box and surfed for a more suitable option.

Then I found it. The clouds parted and the angels sang. "20 Minute Kick box". So wait... what your telling me is that I can take out pent-up aggression AND I can lose weight? Sign me up! I pushed play and waited for it to start.

Let me just say this, learning how to kick box from a hot guy will ALWAYS make you feel better than learning that you have ZERO ability to dance from a hot lady who acts like she's better then you. *Pfft* Her and her abs. Give me Mr. "You're doing a great job!" any day.

Did I mention he was hot?

Mmm, Phillipe Till. I look forward to our mornings together... until March 14th when "20 Minute Kick box" expires. It's always nice to hear "Kick harder if you can!" "Kick higher if you can!" Oh, I can kick pretty hard and pretty high right now.

It was great. I was a sweaty pig by the time it was done, but I was happy!!!

It feels good to kick things sometimes. (Literally and figuratively.) Now, I just have to stick with it...

And that's a whole other monster, but by golly some thing's gotta give.