Stressed irony

Jump– jump– jump– jump

—-jump-jump

Aaaaaaahh!

Fleas are just darn terrible, especially without a pet… at least, with a pet, they stay on the pet… without the pet, they spread everywhere, and attack every warm body that passes through (which happens to be my warm body, my being the only one who actually lives here and isn’t a big of some sort)…

Ugh…

Help me, Lord… I have a struggle beyond this, and the fleas are just making everything worse and somewhat terrible.

……..

You see, have you ever heard the song “Ironic” by Alanis Morissette?

This section has lived in my head off and on ever since I first learned the song, way back when:

A traffic jam when you’re already late
A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break
It’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife
It’s meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife
And isn’t it ironic, don’t you think
A little too ironic, and yeah I really do think

It is all too ironic, I dare say, that this line about the man and his wife always stuck with me as a child, and now it has resurfaced in the face of reality hitting the mark of a reasonable validity in the statement.

That is, in more sensical wording, that line has come true for me.

I met this “man of my dreams” several months ago – and he even became the actual man of my daydreams over time.

Every time we are together, I am filled with light and love, and I am inspired to be the best version I can be of myself… and I want him to enjoy himself and have a wonderful time, and I take care to help along his enjoyment in the interaction.

We inevitably have a wonderful time.

And I drink up his smile.

And his eyes… those eyes that keep contact… they are that kind of eyes.

Every new thing I learn about him and every new experience I have with him increases his perfection as this “man of my dreams”.

Everything except the seemingly inevitable, that is…

I finally paid attention enough to his hands this last time I saw him – something I never seem to check on people, and so it had to be a conscious effort this time – and discovered a wedding band.

…::face palm::…

He had on another ring, too, so there was a chance it was just a ring and not a wedding band…, but then I learned of his beautiful and wonderful wife, and their beautiful darlings of children.

It was confirmed…

When I considered it all, I discovered that I truly was unsurprised by the information… just bummed.

All the good ones really are taken…(!!!)

A somewhat jokingly thought thought, but it seems to strike rather truly these days. :/

I never really expected him to be single, available… he’s too great, too comfortable in himself and with me and others… he has confidence in his place with his partner and family.

But there’s always a chance that a great guy won’t be unavailable, I tell myself, because I’m not with anyone, you know, and I’m great…

Anyway…, moving onward…

It stresses me sad to know that this guy, for sure, is not a potential partner in my life.

And… surprisingly,… yet not surprisingly,… I find hope in it all.

Firstly, that this guy exists suggests that it is possible someone else like he is could exist, someone so wonderful.

Secondly, that this guy is such a good guy that he can have a wonderful, non romantic time with me, even though he is married, makes him an even better guy than thought….

Which, then, makes the first point an even bigger and better deal…

Thirdly, there were two tiny, unchangeable aspects to him that I don’t particularly love (but that I found myself to be okay with reasonably quickly as I spent more time with the guy), and perhaps this is a piece of why he is not the one for me nor I the one for him… and perhaps the one for me will share many qualities with this guy, and yet those tiny disliked aspects will be gone in the one for me…

So, ultimately, it’s a good thing… all of it.

And… I’m even relieved a bit… no offense, but I didn’t and don’t want to have those tiny drawback aspects if I don’t have to have them, you know?

I mean, I definitely am still not quite over it all… it is still a blow to know for sure something like this, even when you had somewhat suspected it all along…, but I also can see that I will be over it, and likely rather soon.

I don’t recall at present which character where said it, but pain demands to be felt… I agree with that… when we ignore pain, it changes, but ultimately worsens.

So, I talked with my cousin, just to communicate my frustration and sadness today, because I realized it was time to let this all go… we discovered that I think I need to have a final cry to get the last dregs out and gone in the matter, so that then I can resume a wonderful friendship with a wonderful, inspiring guy.

Post-a-day 2019

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Kid Friends

(I imagine I have shared this here already, but it is on my mind yet again, and so I will share it again.  😛 )

Do you remember what it was like to make new friends as a little kid?  Perhaps it was different by generation, but, in my generation, it was really simple:
“You wanna be friends?!”
“Yeah, okay!”
And that was that – you’ve got a new friend, possibly even a best friend.  Nowadays, as an adult, I feel as though people think I’m totally nuts and unfortunately childish whenever I present a similar conversation… I’m starting to realize that I don’t really care.  Sure, I want the new friend, but perhaps we aren’t meant to be friends if the person is put off by my question of wanting to be friends.  You know what I mean?  Because asking just like little kids ask is natural to me; it’s part of being true to myself.  I’m not being purposely childish and avoiding being an adult when I ask – I’m genuinely excited at the prospect, and hoping that the person will be just as excited as I am at having a new friend.

I also mean it, too, about being actual friends.  Not just Facebook friends or any of that nonsense – actual friends who talk with one another and do things together and enjoy and explore life together; friends who help one another become the best version of themselves.  A friend is someone who helps you be the best person you can be.  A priest actually said that once to a group of us, and I’ve always remembered it.  And that‘s the kind of friend I’m always looking for, asking for, and also wanting to be for others.  My best friend and I are like that with one another, and it’s wonderful.  However, we definitely don’t live near one another (try 4,811 miles apart, approximately), so it’s nice to have other people around, closer, who can be friends, too.  🙂

I’m not so sure why people seem so uninterested in that kind of relationship with me, though.  Perhaps I scare them… I am a bit much to take in under certain circumstances, especially when it comes to my saying openly things that people often are not straight about.  (Not like I’m vulgar and offensive, because I really don’t promote cursing or vulgarity at all… but I answer honestly when someone asks how I’m doing, or what I think of the food, or even how an outfit looks on someone… it just isn’t worth it to me to lie.  I don’t want my friend to go out looking horrendous in some dress making her look fat and lumpy, do I?  [No, I do not.]  And I don’t have to be mean about saying it, but I do have to tell the truth.  At least, I strive always to tell the truth, as well as to be appropriate with how I express it.)  I don’t know… I guess the right people will show up in the right places at the right times.  Maybe they’ll even ask me if I want to be friends with them, instead of the other way around.

Here’s to finding spectacular friends, y’all.  😀

Post-a-day 2018

Babies making babies

How many 18-year-olds do you cross, where you think to yourself, ‘Yes, this person is well on his/her way to being a wonderful parent!’?

And yet, just a generation or two ago, the 18-year-olds were just about to become parents.

I haven’t even considered the fact that I don’t have children of my own, though I’m very post-college-aged, and yet my mother started having children when she was college-aged, and then she had already finished having her children long before the time when she was the age I am now.

I mean, sure, our bodies are primed for making babies when we’re around 20, but our brains seem to be on a different planet at that age.

Just about every male aged eighteen years is a total idiot so far as I’ve experienced… (Remember that I teach high school)… and, while the girls aren’t total idiots, they definitely don’t strike me as the motherly type.

Just a thought.

Post-a-day 2018

I promise, we’re adults

I guess it is because people once had little kids living in this house, that my bedroom door has the lock on the outside, but that doesn’t change the fact that my friend and I got locked in my room this evening while moving my furniture and stuff out of my mom’s house. 😛

So much for feeling like grown-ups after our brief scheduling chit-chat in my room. 🙂

Post-a-day 2018

Being Beautiful & Powerful

Here, I will paraphrase a piece of a conversation I had with my mother this evening.

……………………

Mom: You are living in a culture that doesn’t see that as normal.
Hannah: And I am simply one of the frontrunners of the movement, actively working to have it be something that is seen as normal.

…………………..

It was a conversation we had while dancing at the food truck event in a neighborhood.  It was casual and fun, and we both chuckled during the conversation.  And we both meant what we said.  It felt good to state definitely that I am part of a movement.  It sounds silly to me now, but the fact that it sounds silly is kind of exactly why I am part of it.  And it is not only a powerful statement, but it is fun.

Pictures to come in the future, and hopefully in the very near future.  🙂

Post-a-day 2018

Absurd Mothering

I occasionally worry about the possibility of my having kids of my own.  And by kids, of course, I mean children, not goats.  My brother has goats already.  They’re really cute.

Anyway, the main genuine worry that I have regarding my having children of my own, is the concern of what I might name them.  I thought my cousin had it crazy enough, when she said that she would like to have a girl, and to name her Jacques, pronounced “Jake”.  But I’m over here in the shower tonight, contemplating having twins, a boy and a girl, and naming (and calling) them Penny Lane and Abbey Road (respectively, I think, but I’m not set on that).  And then I get all concerned, because I worry that I might actually do that, if I have children of my own to name.  Either that, or I’ll not actually give them set names until they’re six months old or something.  And, even then, I might still give them absurd names.  I could actually see myself doing this to my dear children.  Though, perhaps I would give them somewhat ‘standard’ names, so to speak, and then just call them these absurd names I have.  That way, I could use multiple absurd names on each child.  Having children is absurd enough as it is – at least give me a little bit of fun of my own to have, you know?  (And, yes, I do know that I am somewhat totally crazy here.)  🙂

If it didn’t really matter, what sorts of absurd names would you give your child/children? Think about it.

Post-a-day 2018

Cleaning out, finding magnificence

I found one of the boxes that contained my childhood writing yesterday.  I mostly did poetry, but this one had some of my vocabulary paragraphs and my topic-writes and free-writes.  Therefore, it’s about to get middle-school-original up in here, and very soon. ;D

Post-a-day 2018