I only write well when I’m uninspired- that’s what inspires me. It’s the pure feeling of crap that usually gets me writing so here we go. Not like anyone cares but here’s what has me writing this week (don’t worry- to all my readers that think I’m somewhere between brilliant and obnoxious, this is not controversial and it will not offend you).
I was feeling ugly so I put in my weave, and got dressed up to go to SAMS Club to eat my salted pretzel with my children, my nephews, and my parents (don’t hate, it hasn’t even gotten pathetic yet). While I was there, I gave my little girl a ‘squeezy fruit,’ as we call them in our home (thanks by the way to the lazy dad who invented those- you rock my life). So as my lovely daughter is slurping her fruit concoction, she says “down mommy”. She had been great so I thought a little jaunt to the jewelry case with mommy would be a breeze (Jared has nothing on SAMS, all I’m saying). As I picked her up out of the cart, she grabbed my weave like she was Rapunzel’s mom trying to climb up the tower, and I lost a piece. True story. It was hanging by a pathetic thread and it was very obvious to the other SAMS Club members that I had a 2-inch wide piece of hair that had suddenly become about a foot longer in length than the rest of my hair. Fail.
To make it even better, as I was trying to tuck my weave into my top, she thought it would be a perfect opportunity to unzip my Hollister shirt/jacket. The bad part of the shirt/jacket part, I was wearing it as a shirt that day. Man down. Standing in horror, I dropped her like a hot potato to zip up my exposure, make sure my weave was still tucked into the hood and she took off. My little girl doesn’t take off- my son takes off, but not today. She took advantage of the situation and now I was chasing her through SAMS. She was still holding her squeezy fruit and I nabbed her. As I picked her up mind-run, she squeezed that sucker and there was flying fruit concoction everywhere. It was all over my new kicks I was rocking that day, and all over, ALL over the floor. People walked by staring. I couldn’t tell if they were really confused on why my hair was multiple lengths, why my shirt still was unzipped un-godly far, or why my Ohio State pants and matching kicks were covered in purple goo. Did I mention that all I wanted to do was look pretty that day because I was feeling somewhere between hag and 80? She gone.
Two days later: I gave into my frustration of feeling old and ugly and I went with it. I woke up pissed that morning too. You ever stare at yourself in the mirror and then get your son’s dart gun that shoots at really high power, and just blast the mirror aiming at yourself? If you haven’t, don’t do it. Not getting blamed for your tragedy, but it sure as heck makes me feel better sometimes.
So anyways, I was pissey and on a mission to just go with it and be unpleasant and angry-faced to everyone who crossed my path. Some may say this attitude needs happy pills, but ya can’t take diet pills and happy pills simultaneously (stupid) so save yourself a monthly pharmacy trip (and your co-pay) and become a Gold Card Member at GNC. Again, this is a disclaimer. Do not take my actions for advice. I may be really smart, but ix-nay. So, I got out of the shower- unshaved legs, frizzy hair, no make-up, two shades of the same color on and I topped it off with a turtle neck. I don’t care if it was Ralph Lauren or not, it was not doing anything for me. So I left the house praying I didn’t run into anyone I knew, kind of knew, or anyone that would ever see me again (also I was on one hour of sleep; insomnia strikes again, so my eyes were adorned with black circles). I was looking rough and un-presentable. As I was staring at the ground walking like some sort of criminal that should be executed by the fashion police, it happened. Oh yes, IT happened. The curse- the Ryan & Lydia Blaha curse. Oh yeah, go out dressed to the nines looking all fresh (as fresh as two exhausted people can be) and strut your stuff and don’t see anyone you know. Shoot people, my husband and I are so pathetic, we will go to our hometown Target after a big date if we haven’t seen anyone we know out, JUST, so at least the Target employees that we see every day will know that we don’t always look like death has stricken (two things pathetic about that: 1.) The whole previous sentence 2.) That in order to have our end-cap be in the Target cereal aisle just to be seen, that means our hot night out has ended at 9pm). So yes, I ran into multiple people I haven’t seen in years. Man isn’t that the worse. It’s a tragedy- so bad that if Shakespeare would have known me, he could have written better than a Romeo and Juliet about it all. I mean, you should have seen my face; deer in the headlights. I may have gotten pale, and it was out of complete humiliation. You just don’t want to see anyone, especially people that you haven’t seen in years when you look like a character from a Tim Burton film. I blacked out. Seriously, out of horror, I can’t remember one thing I said. As I was chatting with my husband later on that night about how dumb I felt, he comforted me and said, “Lyd, don’t worry about it. At least you looked great. HA!!!” Haha… that’s why I married him- the man knows when to lie to me to make me feel better, but he knows how to tell the twisted sarcastic lie to make me laugh it all off. To those people I saw that day, I’m sorry if I seemed weird. Didn’t mean to, and it wasn’t out of awkwardness- it was out of the sheer fact that I had some gnarly coffee breath, I woke up in a bad mood, and I looked worse than the sheep they slaughtered to make my UGG boots. My apologies.
Oh but wait Lydia, did all this happen to you within three days of each other and then on the fifth day you almost got carjacked at the gas station at 8pm when some man followed you in, tailed you out, and tried to open your car door on the passenger side when you got into the driver’s side, but when suddenly he saw two car seats in the back, he took his hand off your door handle and rolled out quick? Why yes, this has all happened the past 5 days. Almost getting carjacked was the worst though. I mean, I will take ripped out weave and frizz any day of the week, but not that other crap. It was truly one of the top three worst experiences of my life.
So moral of this long novel tonight-
- Love yourself, especially if you have kids and a full plate. Take care of yourself, but on the days you’re not quite competing with Miss Alabama, tell that crappy voice to get out of your head. Remind yourself that you’re pretty freaking great and that tomorrow is always new day.
- When you wake up with a bad attitude, don’t let it affect the people around you. It’s selfish and no one likes selfish people. Trust me, it’s my own personal battle and it’s taken me 24.5 years to finally get it.
- And finally, I really hope that if you are married, you find the joys in your spouse that I find in mine. That doesn’t mean we don’t put on the boxing gloves of hate sometimes, but there are some things that we can laugh about that no one else could ever understand…like reminiscing on how ‘cool’ we used to be when we find ourselves going to Target post-date for affirmation. He’s my best friend, and if you aren’t married, never settle because I was in legit love 3 times, but when I finally met my husband, I knew in my heart that it wasn’t just legit, but it was too legit to quit (yes, that just happened). Wait for the person who finishes your song, even if you’ve written the past 3 verses with someone else. It may be the hardest thing you ever do, but you’ve got one life- spend it with someone who makes it beautiful. There will be really tough days, even months that it would just be easier to give up, but if you make it out of the valley in one piece, the rain on the mountain top will be sweet and in your perseverance, you will find blessing.
- Lock your car doors, and carry mace : )