So after many hours spent perusing the sometimes ridiculous babynames.com, much debate with and input from a few very close friends and family members, and more than a little changing my mind…IT IS SETTLED. She has a name. And it shall be…Finlay Adair Ramsey. Why, you might ask? Because I said so. (Getting my parenting practice now.) Actually, I heard the name Finlay on a TV show a few months before I got pregnant. I liked it. When I started making my list of possible names a few weeks ago, that was one of the first to be added. I then proceeded to add about 20 other girl’s names that I saw and liked. Finally, a week ago, I got serious and cut the list down to three. Surprisingly enough, it was pretty much the first three I’d started with. The deciding factor ended up being the meaning. I KNOW! I have no idea why I didn’t look that up sooner. Finlay (sounds like Finn-lee) is a Scottish name that means ‘Fair Warrior’, which is pretty much a perfect representation of the kind of person I hope and dream my daughter will be. I want her to be ‘fair’ in every sense of the word. Pretty, sweet, tolerant, just, kind…you know, the fairest of them all and stuff. But I also hope that she will be smart and tough and independent and passionate and willing to fight for what she believes in. A perfect balance. So, there it is. Finally. Can’t wait to meet Miss Finlay Adair.
And she may even have her first nickname! I told my parents her name the other day, and got pretty much the exact mixed response I anticipated. I believe my dad’s words were, it’ll take some getting used to, but that’s nice. Later Daddy and I were at my sister’s and I was recounting my mom’s reaction to the great name unveiling. I think my sister asked my dad what he thought, and he said, “Of what? Ol’ Finnegan Apricot?” Those of you who know my dad know that this is typical Steve Ramsey. But it made me laugh, and I’ll admit to thinking of the baby as ‘little Finnegan Apricot’ more than a few times since. So, perhaps we have a nickname, at the very least, a special story to tell Finlay someday about her Grandpa and her name.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Out of the Mouths of Babes...
• Overheard while on the phone with my sister this morning, who was home with her 2 and 4 year old boys: “No, nobody needs a screwdriver." Never a dull moment in that house.
• After picking up my 6 year old niece Haylee from school today, she said, “Mammy, I know how you can get some more money,” a recurring theme with her these days. Usually she tells me of some great job she’s decided I should get. One time she said I should go work at a bakery, so that I could bring home all the extra cookies for her. Last time she told me I should just go be a doctor. Today she says, “You can get a man to bring you some home from work.” Oh, if life were only that simple!
• Haylee is always full of questions about the coming baby. Today she asked me if they would be able to tell me if I am having a girl or a boy when we go to “look at the baby” in a few weeks at my next ultrasound. I told her yes. She then says, “But how will they know since it still doesn’t have hair?” Trying to avoid an outright anatomy lesson, I replied, “Well, how did you know that your brothers were boys when they were born? They didn’t have hair.” And she patiently answered, with a touch of exasperation in her voice, “Because they TOLD us they were boys. I REALLY wanted them to be girls, though. Can you please have a girl baby so she can play with me?” Doing my best, Doodle, doing my best.
• Still my favorite baby-related conversation to date was one my sister overheard between the kids at the breakfast table a few weeks ago. Haylee: “I want Mammy to have a baby girl.” Brayden – “Well I want her to have a boy.” Haylee – “WHY?!” Brayden – “And I want her to name him Iron Man! Everyone will probably laugh about that. But not Mammy.” If my own kid thinks I’m even half as cool as my niece and nephews do, I’ll be one lucky Mommy. :)
• After picking up my 6 year old niece Haylee from school today, she said, “Mammy, I know how you can get some more money,” a recurring theme with her these days. Usually she tells me of some great job she’s decided I should get. One time she said I should go work at a bakery, so that I could bring home all the extra cookies for her. Last time she told me I should just go be a doctor. Today she says, “You can get a man to bring you some home from work.” Oh, if life were only that simple!
• Haylee is always full of questions about the coming baby. Today she asked me if they would be able to tell me if I am having a girl or a boy when we go to “look at the baby” in a few weeks at my next ultrasound. I told her yes. She then says, “But how will they know since it still doesn’t have hair?” Trying to avoid an outright anatomy lesson, I replied, “Well, how did you know that your brothers were boys when they were born? They didn’t have hair.” And she patiently answered, with a touch of exasperation in her voice, “Because they TOLD us they were boys. I REALLY wanted them to be girls, though. Can you please have a girl baby so she can play with me?” Doing my best, Doodle, doing my best.
• Still my favorite baby-related conversation to date was one my sister overheard between the kids at the breakfast table a few weeks ago. Haylee: “I want Mammy to have a baby girl.” Brayden – “Well I want her to have a boy.” Haylee – “WHY?!” Brayden – “And I want her to name him Iron Man! Everyone will probably laugh about that. But not Mammy.” If my own kid thinks I’m even half as cool as my niece and nephews do, I’ll be one lucky Mommy. :)
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Experiences
Things that I have experienced in the last week.
1. While shopping in Publix, I made the mistake of glancing up from my shopping list. My eyes immediately landed on a figure stooped over one of the produce cases. His back was to me, affording me a great view of his jorts, belted just below his butt cheeks, which were mostly covered by his red plaid boxers. I say ‘mostly covered’ because just above the boxers was about two inches of crack. I roll my eyes and think to myself, ‘His mother should kick his butt,’ about the time he stands up, turns around and reveals himself to be no less than 65 years old. It’s a whole new world out there.
2. At my second hospital visit this week for pregnancy-related dehydration, instead of a room, I was place in one of the 3 trauma bays, which only had a curtain. At one point during the night, a very chatty young guy was in the area next door. It finally got pretty quiet around 2 am. When my oxygen alarm began going off every minute or so, I heard what sounded like an echo. It took me a minute to realize, that dude next door was imitating every noise that came out of my room, including when I coughed or audibly sighed. It was a special kind of irritating.
3. Had to bite my tongue on visit 3 to the hospital when the admissions clerk came in to verify my information, lest I had moved or gotten married in the 2 days since my last stay. She asked all the regular questions, and then said is this the result of an accident? It was all I could do to not say, “Well, technically….” ;)
4. On another trip to Publix, this time in the pouring rain, I was nearly run down while loading my groceries by some idiot who was backing in, from the wrong direction, to the parking space right next to me, which happened to be the closest spot to the door. To do this, he had to cut off a little old lady who was approaching the spot from the correct direction. His hurry? To park and wait for the passenger whom he’d just dropped off at the door. REALLY?? Chivalry is definitely dead.
1. While shopping in Publix, I made the mistake of glancing up from my shopping list. My eyes immediately landed on a figure stooped over one of the produce cases. His back was to me, affording me a great view of his jorts, belted just below his butt cheeks, which were mostly covered by his red plaid boxers. I say ‘mostly covered’ because just above the boxers was about two inches of crack. I roll my eyes and think to myself, ‘His mother should kick his butt,’ about the time he stands up, turns around and reveals himself to be no less than 65 years old. It’s a whole new world out there.
2. At my second hospital visit this week for pregnancy-related dehydration, instead of a room, I was place in one of the 3 trauma bays, which only had a curtain. At one point during the night, a very chatty young guy was in the area next door. It finally got pretty quiet around 2 am. When my oxygen alarm began going off every minute or so, I heard what sounded like an echo. It took me a minute to realize, that dude next door was imitating every noise that came out of my room, including when I coughed or audibly sighed. It was a special kind of irritating.
3. Had to bite my tongue on visit 3 to the hospital when the admissions clerk came in to verify my information, lest I had moved or gotten married in the 2 days since my last stay. She asked all the regular questions, and then said is this the result of an accident? It was all I could do to not say, “Well, technically….” ;)
4. On another trip to Publix, this time in the pouring rain, I was nearly run down while loading my groceries by some idiot who was backing in, from the wrong direction, to the parking space right next to me, which happened to be the closest spot to the door. To do this, he had to cut off a little old lady who was approaching the spot from the correct direction. His hurry? To park and wait for the passenger whom he’d just dropped off at the door. REALLY?? Chivalry is definitely dead.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Hot and Cold
So…now that I’m reaching the end of my first trimester, I’ve been doing a little reflecting. There have been many surprises thus far, some more pleasant than others, and I’m quite sure that there will be plenty more to come. One thing that I’m not sure I was expecting was the extreme nature of pretty much everything that has happened. There don’t seem to be many happy mediums here lately. For instance, I am either completely repulsed by even the THOUGHT of any type of food, or I’m so ravenous I begin to fear for the integrity of my limbs. If I’m not so exhausted that I can hardly speak, I’m so wired that I’m up half the night.
My emotions vacillate from laughter to tears with much the same fury. Just last week, my neighbor’s ridiculous music interrupted my deep and much-needed slumber. I stormed out the front door, clad in my Christmas PJs, hair looking like something out of a Nick Nolte mug-shot and spotted the stupid teenagers in their stupid driveway with their stupid, loud car stereo. I was pissed to the point of shaking, and began screaming at the top of my lungs something about how people were trying to sleep. No, the irony does not escape me. (I console myself with the righteous belief that I, at least, disturbed the peace with the best of intentions.) And no, I couldn’t give less of a crap that those idiots were looking at me, wide-eyed, like I was from outer space, or that they undoubtedly had quite a laugh at my expense later. I guess my point here is that my reaction was probably somewhere just short of completely rational. I retreated back to my bed, and naturally, couldn’t get back to sleep. I turned on the Investigation Discovery channel, and in literally 15 minutes, I was moved to tears by some woman talking about her missing friend. Tears of the boo-hooing variety. Yes. I may, in fact, be completely insane.
Cravings are pretty intense, too. Most of the time, you can ask me what I want to eat, and I can’t come up with a single thing that doesn’t make my stomach turn. And then occasionally, I begin to crave something extremely specific, and with a passion that still sometimes surprises me. When, like last week, I crave something completely unattainable, this can be a real pain in the rear. I haven’t had a Four Cheese & Tomato Panini from Fazoli’s in at least 4 years. And suddenly, it’s all I can think about. But with 60 miles and a state line between me and the nearest Fazoli’s, it’s just not going to happen. That was not a good day. But I think days like today more than make up for it. I woke up from a dream in which I was enjoying some Rally’s fries. I tried to forget about it, because I thought Rally’s was no more. But I couldn’t get it out of my head. So I looked online and found a Checkers not too far away. I am embarrassed to admit how much I enjoyed those fries. I don’t think any one thing since childhood has brought me the level of joy and contentment that satisfying some of these cravings has. I guess the volatile nature of my existence lately has its perks after all.
My emotions vacillate from laughter to tears with much the same fury. Just last week, my neighbor’s ridiculous music interrupted my deep and much-needed slumber. I stormed out the front door, clad in my Christmas PJs, hair looking like something out of a Nick Nolte mug-shot and spotted the stupid teenagers in their stupid driveway with their stupid, loud car stereo. I was pissed to the point of shaking, and began screaming at the top of my lungs something about how people were trying to sleep. No, the irony does not escape me. (I console myself with the righteous belief that I, at least, disturbed the peace with the best of intentions.) And no, I couldn’t give less of a crap that those idiots were looking at me, wide-eyed, like I was from outer space, or that they undoubtedly had quite a laugh at my expense later. I guess my point here is that my reaction was probably somewhere just short of completely rational. I retreated back to my bed, and naturally, couldn’t get back to sleep. I turned on the Investigation Discovery channel, and in literally 15 minutes, I was moved to tears by some woman talking about her missing friend. Tears of the boo-hooing variety. Yes. I may, in fact, be completely insane.
Cravings are pretty intense, too. Most of the time, you can ask me what I want to eat, and I can’t come up with a single thing that doesn’t make my stomach turn. And then occasionally, I begin to crave something extremely specific, and with a passion that still sometimes surprises me. When, like last week, I crave something completely unattainable, this can be a real pain in the rear. I haven’t had a Four Cheese & Tomato Panini from Fazoli’s in at least 4 years. And suddenly, it’s all I can think about. But with 60 miles and a state line between me and the nearest Fazoli’s, it’s just not going to happen. That was not a good day. But I think days like today more than make up for it. I woke up from a dream in which I was enjoying some Rally’s fries. I tried to forget about it, because I thought Rally’s was no more. But I couldn’t get it out of my head. So I looked online and found a Checkers not too far away. I am embarrassed to admit how much I enjoyed those fries. I don’t think any one thing since childhood has brought me the level of joy and contentment that satisfying some of these cravings has. I guess the volatile nature of my existence lately has its perks after all.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
It's 5 o'clock (AM) Somewhere
I've had writer's block for quite some time. Every few weeks, I say to myself, "You should really update that blog of yours, woman." And then I can't come up with anything that is particularly witty or insightful that I feel like sharing. Today, I lower my standards. You've been warned.
A few weeks ago, my life changed dramatically with the appearance of two little pink lines on a plastic stick. Leave it to me to experience the most pivotal moment of my life thus far in a bathroom. Questionable atmoshpere notwithstanding, I was pretty immediately very excited. Of course, I was simultaneously completely frappin' terrified, but I'm definitely leaning more towards excited.
Those of you who know me well know that I've never been the most maternal of girls. Now you also know that I love to death my niece and my two nephews. And that I'd do anything in the world for them. Provided that 'anything in the world' does not involve poop, snot, vomit or pretty much any other disgusting bodily fluid. I wish I were exaggerating, but thems the facts, Jack. If there is ANYbody else around, en route, or quickly summonable when disaster strikes, I'm not getting my hands dirty. I've tried it. Don't like it. Almost hurled on a young Brayden once. Learned my lesson. You have to play to your strengths in life. Turns out my strengths lie in feeding them candy and finding funny YouTube videos to watch together. I'm told that the whole diaper dilemma is "different when it's your child." I would love for that to be the case, but I gotta admit, I'm harboring some serious doubt.
I have always thought that being pregnant seemed like, well, a pain in the ass. A little person inside you, making themselves at home, moving and kicking you, making your butt double in size, and then having the nerve to want to come out!?!?! My sister and my friends all talk about how much they LOVED being pregnant. I figured either it was one of those you-had-to-be-there kind of things, or that I was just wired wrong. Because there was not a whole lot about what I witnessed during their pregnancies that looked like a party to me. Well, here I am. Pregnant. And if the last few weeks are any indication, I think I'm gonna have to go with the alternative wiring.
So far, pregnancy has proven to be every bit as uncomfortable and inconvenient as I'd imagined it to be. Between the all-day morning sickness, terrible insomnia, and a newly heightened sense of smell that would make a bloodhound green with envy, I am keeping pretty busy. And still I manage to find the time to pee every 2 or 3 hours. Yeah, Melissa, I can see why you love this so much. This is the stuff dreams are made of. :)
And, oh man, the cravings! Most of the time, nothing in the world sounds even remotely edible to me. But I'm told I have to eat, so I spend a considerable amount of time scrolling through a mental list of every food I've ever tasted and liked even a little bit. Sometimes this is an exercise in futility. Other times, I come up with one very random thing that I suddenly don't think I can survive without for a moment longer. First it was banana peppers. Then it was frozen SmartOnes Ravioli. Last week my nephew gave me my first Sour Patch Kid. I drove to a convenience store late that night to get my own bag. Tonight I ate a bowl of papaya and pineapple, topped with chopped walnuts, shredded cheddar and whipped cream. I know, I know. But it was HEAVENLY! As strange as the cravings are, the aversions are definitely worse. Suddenly things I used to LOVE make me literally ill to even think about. At least I still love salad.
I know I'm doing a lot of complaining here. That's because this mess is rough! It's early days though, so perhaps my views will change as the time goes by. I remain extremely excited about the end result. Not entirely sure what in the world I'm gonna do with this little creature once it gets here, but I know we'll work it out. :) And I know that I have THE greatest bunch of family and friends that I can turn to for answers and support, and for that I am immeasurably grateful this Thanksgiving.
A few weeks ago, my life changed dramatically with the appearance of two little pink lines on a plastic stick. Leave it to me to experience the most pivotal moment of my life thus far in a bathroom. Questionable atmoshpere notwithstanding, I was pretty immediately very excited. Of course, I was simultaneously completely frappin' terrified, but I'm definitely leaning more towards excited.
Those of you who know me well know that I've never been the most maternal of girls. Now you also know that I love to death my niece and my two nephews. And that I'd do anything in the world for them. Provided that 'anything in the world' does not involve poop, snot, vomit or pretty much any other disgusting bodily fluid. I wish I were exaggerating, but thems the facts, Jack. If there is ANYbody else around, en route, or quickly summonable when disaster strikes, I'm not getting my hands dirty. I've tried it. Don't like it. Almost hurled on a young Brayden once. Learned my lesson. You have to play to your strengths in life. Turns out my strengths lie in feeding them candy and finding funny YouTube videos to watch together. I'm told that the whole diaper dilemma is "different when it's your child." I would love for that to be the case, but I gotta admit, I'm harboring some serious doubt.
I have always thought that being pregnant seemed like, well, a pain in the ass. A little person inside you, making themselves at home, moving and kicking you, making your butt double in size, and then having the nerve to want to come out!?!?! My sister and my friends all talk about how much they LOVED being pregnant. I figured either it was one of those you-had-to-be-there kind of things, or that I was just wired wrong. Because there was not a whole lot about what I witnessed during their pregnancies that looked like a party to me. Well, here I am. Pregnant. And if the last few weeks are any indication, I think I'm gonna have to go with the alternative wiring.
So far, pregnancy has proven to be every bit as uncomfortable and inconvenient as I'd imagined it to be. Between the all-day morning sickness, terrible insomnia, and a newly heightened sense of smell that would make a bloodhound green with envy, I am keeping pretty busy. And still I manage to find the time to pee every 2 or 3 hours. Yeah, Melissa, I can see why you love this so much. This is the stuff dreams are made of. :)
And, oh man, the cravings! Most of the time, nothing in the world sounds even remotely edible to me. But I'm told I have to eat, so I spend a considerable amount of time scrolling through a mental list of every food I've ever tasted and liked even a little bit. Sometimes this is an exercise in futility. Other times, I come up with one very random thing that I suddenly don't think I can survive without for a moment longer. First it was banana peppers. Then it was frozen SmartOnes Ravioli. Last week my nephew gave me my first Sour Patch Kid. I drove to a convenience store late that night to get my own bag. Tonight I ate a bowl of papaya and pineapple, topped with chopped walnuts, shredded cheddar and whipped cream. I know, I know. But it was HEAVENLY! As strange as the cravings are, the aversions are definitely worse. Suddenly things I used to LOVE make me literally ill to even think about. At least I still love salad.
I know I'm doing a lot of complaining here. That's because this mess is rough! It's early days though, so perhaps my views will change as the time goes by. I remain extremely excited about the end result. Not entirely sure what in the world I'm gonna do with this little creature once it gets here, but I know we'll work it out. :) And I know that I have THE greatest bunch of family and friends that I can turn to for answers and support, and for that I am immeasurably grateful this Thanksgiving.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
New Tunes
It seems, the older I get, I find that my new favorite songs are my old favorite songs. From the Beatles to The Who to the Black Crowes to Radiohead, that stuff never gets old. And for the most part, when I'm paying attention, I just can't get into some of the crap they call music today. I just don't get Lady Gaga, and thus far I seem to be immune to 'Bieber Fever'. Creepy is what that is. But every once in a while, I come across an exception, be it something I hear in a movie or a suggestion from a friend. Today, a friend recommeded a band called Broken Bells. I checked out one song on YouTube and immediately ordered the whole album for 5 bucks on Amazon (mp3 download). I have been listening to it all day, every chance I got, and it is amazing. James Mercer from the Shins has collaborated with Danger Mouse aka producer-musician Brian Burton to make a listen-on-repeat worthy album. I love discovering new music, and I love to share it. Have a listen, and maybe you'll feel the same way.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Time to Bust out the Nerve Pills
So, yeah. I'm afraid of fireworks. Seriously, ridiculously afraid of fireworks. As in, can not be in a room with a firework of any kind even if they were soaking in water. Crazy, you're thinking, right? But it doesn't end there. Balloons, rubber bands (that are being pointed at me in a threatening manner), canned biscuits, putting air in my tires - all the stuff of nightmares to me. If there is the slightest potential of it exploding, I am running the other way. The kids find this hilarious. The little sadists chase me with balloons! My shrieking retreats never fail to amuse. I have always been treated in similar fashion by co-workers, upon their discovery of my phobia. And, yes, it is an actual phobia. My sister is afflicted as well. Obviously this is discrimination of the cruelest variety. Everybody's afraid of something. How about if I started chasing some of my friends around with snakes or spiders? Not so funny then, huh?
Needless to say, this is not my favorite time of the year. Go America, and all, but keep your firecrackers. Give me some earplugs and a valium, and wake me up sometime next week, when all the explosive patriotism has died down.
Needless to say, this is not my favorite time of the year. Go America, and all, but keep your firecrackers. Give me some earplugs and a valium, and wake me up sometime next week, when all the explosive patriotism has died down.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
On the Other Side of a Broken Heart
OK. So I’ll admit it. With the dearth of decent summer television programming, I’ve somehow gotten myself into So You Think You Can Dance. If you can get past all the regular obnoxious competition stuff, which actually isn’t as bad as on sister show American Idol, these dancers are amazingly talented. So last night, one of the dances was choreographed to a song by an artist I’d never heard of. And the lyrics were just beautiful. So I looked it up. Apparently along with a million other people. According to the artist’s Facebook page, before the show had even aired on the west coast, her song was already at #24 on iTunes, and she had become the number 1 google search. She doesn’t have an album out yet, but with her talent, I’d anticipate one soon.
To shift subjects for a moment, I’d like to share some wisdom that was imparted to me by one of the most amazing people that have made an appearance in my life. In high school, I met William ‘Top’ Bozel. He was a retired Marine, and was our drill instructor in JROTC. Top certainly inspired fear in many, but was one of the kindest, funniest men when you got to know him outside of drill practice. I stayed in touch with him after graduation, and even nearly ten years later, I couldn’t run into him anywhere without getting a hug and his dropping his classic line, “You married yet? No? Then I still have a chance.” He was quite the charmer.
Just before beginning my freshman year of college, I got my heart broken. Sure life would never be the same and that nobody had felt the way I did right then, I found Top at Leon High, helping them to establish their Marine Corps JROTC program. He could tell I wasn’t doing so well, and he offered an ear. He sat stoically and silently as I recounted the story of my betrayal and cried. When I finished talking, he looked at me and said, “Let me tell you one thing I’ve learned in my life. THEY ALWAYS COME BACK.” For a moment I thought he meant I’d get my boyfriend back and all would be right in my world again. But he continued, “The best revenge you can get is to live your life and be happy without him. It could be months, it could be years, but they always come back. And by then, you will have moved on and you probably won’t have the time of day for him. But mark my words, he’ll be back.”
I eventually got past my pain, got on with my life and was doing pretty well in my first apartment. Truly having the time of my life! I lived to love again, and yes, to lose again. I didn't hear from my high school heartbreaker for a long time. But I never forgot Top’s words of wisdom. And one day, quite out of the blue, I got a surprise visitor. I’ll just leave it at Top was right. They do always come back, and the other side of rejection ain't half bad.
That being said, I’ll get back to the song. It’s called “Jar of Hearts” and it is beautifully sung by Christina Perri. The song is about a girl, who got her heart broken, and has just barely gotten past it when, lo and behold, he comes back. It’s something I think most of us can relate to. And I thought I’d share it with you. Following the video, I have recorded the lyrics. So listen, let me know what you think. And remember, those of you with broken hearts, “they always come back.”
Jar of Hearts - Christina Perri
No I can't take one more step towards you
Cause all that's waiting is regret
And don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore
You lost the love I loved the most
I learned to live half a life
And now you want me one more time
CHORUS:
And who do you think you are?
Running 'round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You're gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don't come back for me
Who do you think you are?
I hear you’re asking all around
If I am anywhere to be found
But I have grown too strong
To ever fall back in your arms
I learned to live half a life
And now you want me one more time
(CHORUS)
And it took so long just to feel alright
Remember how to put back the light in my eyes
I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed
Cause you broke all your promises
And now you’re back
You don't get to get me back
(CHORUS)
Don't come back at all
(CHORUS)
Don't come back at all
Who do you think you are?
Who do you think you are?
Who do you think you are?
To shift subjects for a moment, I’d like to share some wisdom that was imparted to me by one of the most amazing people that have made an appearance in my life. In high school, I met William ‘Top’ Bozel. He was a retired Marine, and was our drill instructor in JROTC. Top certainly inspired fear in many, but was one of the kindest, funniest men when you got to know him outside of drill practice. I stayed in touch with him after graduation, and even nearly ten years later, I couldn’t run into him anywhere without getting a hug and his dropping his classic line, “You married yet? No? Then I still have a chance.” He was quite the charmer.
Just before beginning my freshman year of college, I got my heart broken. Sure life would never be the same and that nobody had felt the way I did right then, I found Top at Leon High, helping them to establish their Marine Corps JROTC program. He could tell I wasn’t doing so well, and he offered an ear. He sat stoically and silently as I recounted the story of my betrayal and cried. When I finished talking, he looked at me and said, “Let me tell you one thing I’ve learned in my life. THEY ALWAYS COME BACK.” For a moment I thought he meant I’d get my boyfriend back and all would be right in my world again. But he continued, “The best revenge you can get is to live your life and be happy without him. It could be months, it could be years, but they always come back. And by then, you will have moved on and you probably won’t have the time of day for him. But mark my words, he’ll be back.”
I eventually got past my pain, got on with my life and was doing pretty well in my first apartment. Truly having the time of my life! I lived to love again, and yes, to lose again. I didn't hear from my high school heartbreaker for a long time. But I never forgot Top’s words of wisdom. And one day, quite out of the blue, I got a surprise visitor. I’ll just leave it at Top was right. They do always come back, and the other side of rejection ain't half bad.
That being said, I’ll get back to the song. It’s called “Jar of Hearts” and it is beautifully sung by Christina Perri. The song is about a girl, who got her heart broken, and has just barely gotten past it when, lo and behold, he comes back. It’s something I think most of us can relate to. And I thought I’d share it with you. Following the video, I have recorded the lyrics. So listen, let me know what you think. And remember, those of you with broken hearts, “they always come back.”
Jar of Hearts - Christina Perri
No I can't take one more step towards you
Cause all that's waiting is regret
And don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore
You lost the love I loved the most
I learned to live half a life
And now you want me one more time
CHORUS:
And who do you think you are?
Running 'round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You're gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don't come back for me
Who do you think you are?
I hear you’re asking all around
If I am anywhere to be found
But I have grown too strong
To ever fall back in your arms
I learned to live half a life
And now you want me one more time
(CHORUS)
And it took so long just to feel alright
Remember how to put back the light in my eyes
I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed
Cause you broke all your promises
And now you’re back
You don't get to get me back
(CHORUS)
Don't come back at all
(CHORUS)
Don't come back at all
Who do you think you are?
Who do you think you are?
Who do you think you are?
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Oh, the Irony...
I know it's been a while since I posted. LJ says 60 weeks. That seems like a lot, but I guess they would know. And now that I'm finally compelled to write, it is my active lack of interest in my subject that moves me to do so. I am just so ridiculously tired of hearing about Tiger Woods and who is or was or will be in his bed that I am ready to take a driver to the television. Who cares?!?! Seriously? It's none of my business. It's none of your business. What does it matter? The man is a golf player, not the second coming of Christ. I have long despised with a deep and abiding passion those disgusting 'entertainment news magazines' (that's what I just heard one of them call themselves), but you know what I'm talking about - the tabloid TV trash. My Mom watches two, back to back, swearing they have different 'news'. I can't even be in the same room. But occasionally, I'll be watching something I've DVR'ed and when it ends, that's what's playing and I hear a minute of the tripe before I can get to the remote to change the channel. One of the bubble heads on one ET or some similar show was discussing the 'Tiger Woods Investigation', yes she ACTUALLY called it that. An investigation. Really? Digging up dirt on the private life of someone who is now virtually unemployed is not an investigation, it's being nosy and then gossiping about it. But what really touched my heart was when another of the ladies (I use the term loosely) said that who she felt sorry for was "Poor Elin", what with her life falling apart so publicly and all. Oh, really? That's sweet of you. So shut up! And stop 'investigating' her marriage. Idiot. Seems like that might take a little of the public embarrassment part out of it. Leave people alone. Man, I really hate stupid people. Oh, look! Looks like I care after all.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Overachiever?
So I've been having trouble sleeping lately. Actually, that would be an understatement. I've been going days without sleeping plus having migraines, both of which are triggers of sorts for sleepwalking. Though to call what I do 'sleepwalking' seems something akin to calling what Michelangelo did 'doodling'. I seem to go all out. When I do mercifully doze off, I've been waking up in strange places like outside on the porch or sitting up on the edge of the bed, both of which are remarkably uncomfortable. Particularly as the temperature outside drops into the 40s. I also do lots of weird things. But today was a doozy.
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