Crazy Brain

Do you ever just go nuts in your mind, imagining the ideal desired future of some situation, even though you’ve only just begun?

I met a guy today (who is gorgeous, by the way).

The little girl in me is totally starstruck in love.

A short while after meeting him, my brain had already imagined and visualized a scenario in which this guy and I date and become super close and a wonderful couple, eventually semi living together, and, after months into it all, he meets my family, and my various family members have various reactions to him, as well as to the fact that I not only have been dating someone for so long but also that this guy is the guy I’ve been dating (because he’s not so typical of what others in my family have dated or married)… and, it was at about this point, I realized how nuts this situation was, and I just started laughing…

I met him about two hours ago, and I was just now contemplating – albeit passively – how my family would take the news of my dating him and, then, of our plans to marry… now, another few hours later, even though I chastened my brain a bit earlier, I have already considered the idea of how he and I might manage our wedding (wedding or not, and what style of what, and why), how we would live and where, and casual details of our physical relationship….

I know almost nothing about him, but clearly my brain does not care.

Is this a typical thing people do/have happen?

It is for me, anyway… I’ve come to see it as a double-benefit situation:

First, I get the fun and practice of dreaming up scenarios in life, as well as the chance to have everything go exactly as I would love for to to go – dreams come true.

Second, I get to test the idea of a future with someone, and have a general sense of whether I could see a future with that person.

I don’t expect my brain’s scenarios actually to play out in real life as they do in my head, and so I’m never angry whenever they don’t happen (though I am ever so slightly bummed, of course), and I take things as they come…, but it feels to me like my being able to envision a future with someone is a good sign – if I couldn’t imagine a future together, well, then maybe it’s a hard no for me, right?

That’s kind of how I see it, anyway… maybe my brain does it to help take care of me, to make sure I pursue the good paths and not the bad ones, giving me exciting possibilities in my mind, whenever I’ve found a good match for whatever the circumstances…

Either that or I’m just a little bit totally nuts… you know… πŸ˜›

P.S. A mere minutes after posting this, he and I now have a baby girl, and she is gorgeous, and he is absolutely adorable with her…

P.P.S. The funniest part to me is how I genuinely do think about other things, but they somehow all feed into another new thought about the future I could have with this guy… just now, I was thinking about the show we saw tonight, and then the summer camp where my brother loved working, and all the campers and kids there, and then the idea of how I would feel pregnant, if I ever one day would do it, and then I suddenly had an image of this guy holding what was clearly our baby girl… I mean, where did he even come from??… uninvited, he still shows up, and our future together progresses… πŸ€¦πŸΌβ€β™‚οΈπŸ˜‚

Post-a-day 2019

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Photo Lingo

I helped out on a little photo shoot today.

I always learn something new at these, which is great, but I always enjoy them just for the fun of their being an event: a photo shoot.

Photo shoots aren’t just an everyday nothing, really… usually, they are, to some degree, a little or big to do, an event that requires at least one someone’s best up-do, and then some.

Today’s, though a small shoot, was no different.

Those being photographed were clearly in their best getup for the occasion, make-up done to a T, and several costume changes at the ready.

It was, as I mentioned, an event.

Now, this was fun, of course…, especially some of the silly things that happened throughout the photo shoot.

However, the little nugget of surprise delight and God-granted satisfaction popped up when we had a few quick comments from the photographer to one of the models, who was the husband of someone there.

The photographer was giving a few specifics about how to do something, if that model was doing it, and then somewhat simultaneously asking the model to come throw something in the background of the photo.

Now, the husband of this model, in a moderate accent, said to the model, “Entiendes?”, which is Spanish for, ‘Do you understand?’

The husband then gave an iffy explanation, still in English, of what the photographer had been saying.

I could tell that neither one of them was getting what the photographer had said, not even the English-speaking husband…, and so I went ahead and, in a quick aside, verified with the photographer for myself when he had wanted communicated.

I then, while still standing atop a large ladder, broke into the conversation between the husbands, addressing the Spanish-speaking one pointedly.

I asked him a few questions in Spanish, told him the first the the photographer had said, and then communicated the answers to the photographer in English.

I then explained to the model, again in Spanish, the second topic the photographer had mentioned (i.e. throwing those objects), and asked if he could do it.

He asked for some clarity on specifics, and then readily agreed.

Problem was solved, and amazing photos ensued.

When that model was then in photos, I let him know to tell me if ever and whenever he did not understand… he agreed, and proceeded to check with me on just about everything that was said to him.

At the end of it all, it had become very clear that he was relieved to have had me there, and everyone was grateful for my surprise super-helpfulness in the form of Spanish, whipped out of my back pocket.

Might I point out that I am dirty blonde, pale, and blue-eyed, – obvious German heritage of which, one could imagine, Adolf would have been proud – an outer shell that does not boast a likelihood of speaking Spanish?

But it is situations just like these that send a delighted tickle to my core when they arise, because everyone is simultaneously flabbergasted and relieved that I have this oh-so-unexpected skill.

I love having my languages be of use.

When I went for that “Super” trip the other day, it felt like a relief and a blessing that the person selling turned out to be a German guy, with whom I was able to interact in German… it made things feel ever so slightly more ‘right’, like I was on the right path.

It really felt today that this same sort of thing was happening – the World, God, was making a sign to me that I was (and am) in the right place.

I want photography to be the right place, and it increasingly feels more and more like it is the right place for me to be and to be putting my efforts and my love and my passion right now…, so this whole Spanish thing today was like a super-blessing from God and the World.

So, yay!

Thank you, God.

Thank you, World.

Thank you, Universe.

Help me to continue on this beautiful path that is meant for me to create and travel, that I might share the beauty and the love I have to offer the World. πŸ™‚

……..

In a separate note, I found myself wondering this evening: How can a couple be married, and not really be able to communicate in the same language?

From what I saw today, the one guy’s Spanish is super limited, and the other’s English is very questionable… so, how do they communicate?

Is it really more like the idea of mail-order brides that caught on back when I was little, than a naturally-occurring relationship?

But then, perhaps their language is presence, and words are in the works…

I know fully well that speaking the same language fully isn’t exactly a requirement for wanting to be with someone.

I even had a time (with one of the acrobats) in which I declared this guy and I could not date until we both spoke the same language fluently (though, I didn’t care what language that ended up being), and I, eventually, followed my declaration (after, of course, passively ignoring it, and, essentially, being in an informal but distinct relationship with him for about six weeks)…. (We had a great time, but too many problems began to arise due, mostly, to language issues, but also to cultural differences.)

So, they very well could be that way, where words are not the language of the now relationship, because they just absolutely hit it off without the words, but the words are in the plans for the future of the relationship.

I dunno… anything is possible, but I know that I, personally, need to speak the same language fluently as my partner in life, whatever language that may be.

Post-a-day 2019

Bachelor??

My friend has gotten me stuck on watching the shows “The Bachelor” and “The Bachelorette”.

It isn’t that we actually are all that into them… – I don’t even watch television or television shows or anything anymore (including all of the streamed shows and whatnot [which I have to say, because people tell me all the time how they don’t watch tv anymore either, because they just do Netflix and Hulu and such…]) – more so that it is fun to have a weekly date night in place, during which we get to see beautiful places, see others’ opinions, and consider our own opinions on various topics we perhaps hadn’t considered or, at least, discussed with one another (or, even, others).

The last I had seen the show before this year, they all just spent the whole time in one location.

Nowadays, however, they travel the world.

Upon discovering that, I commented that I wanted to go on the show.

It was a sort of joke at first, more interested in the travel than anything else.

Tonight, however, months later, we got to talking about it in a rather serious way: Do I perhaps actually want to go on the show?

If so, now is the time to apply, we both agreed.

And so, I looked at the application online, and am genuinely considering whether I want to apply for it… it seems simultaneously absurd and a wonderful adventure for me to make… and both sound rather intriguing, to say the least.

“Why do you want to go on ‘The Bachelor’?”

That is my question to consider and to answer in the coming days… if the answer is worth it, I’ll fill it in on the application and submit… if it isn’t to me, then I will close the application… either way, I will feel and be satisfied with my determined path, and I will be delighted for what life has to offer next. πŸ™‚

πŸ˜›

Post-a-day 2019

Some days, round diamond

Some days, that one extremely rich acquaintance-slash-friend gets engaged, and you find out the ring was a “4.5 carat, round flawless, D color, Excellent cut (XXX)”…

And you think, Well, that sounds nice… big, for sure, but whatevs…

And then a girlfriend tells you that, not only is that “HUGE”, but the stone alone is worth over three hundred thousand dollars…

… and your eyes open really wide, and you sit there with your jaw wide open, and then you start belly laughing, while you begin to process it all…

And then you learn that the proposal was a scavenger hunt that involved multiple locations and a private plane (owned by that same friend-slash-acquaintance who was the one proposing), and you think, Well, sheee-itt…, he really is Christian Grey after all.

And it all feels quite silly instead of depressing in terms of your friend who used to date him, and you giggle uncontrollably for a bit, and end up having a wonderful time with that girlfriend who used to date the early days version of your verified Christian Grey…

So goes life, I suppose…. for some people, anyway… πŸ˜›

Which includes the part, I suppose, where this isn’t really a some days for most people… guess this one’s just for me and my life, after all, too. πŸ˜›

Post-a-day 2019

Mothers-in-law

Tonight, I attended a musical performance in an art gallery.

During the second part, after interacting briefly with a woman who helped me get water out of the near-empty water dispenser, the woman approached me:

W: As a mother of three boys, I have to ask you: Are you married?

H: [quiet laughter, because the concert has resumed in the next room of the gallery] I am not, no.

W: Good, because I like you… I have a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead, so you can take your pick.

H: Didn’t you just say that one of them is married?

W: Well, yes, the redhead is married.

H: [quiet laughter]

W: … But that might not last… you never know… And then you could have him… I’d be a good mother-in-law… I’m great at presents… I’ve had to deal with multiple mothers-in-law, so I’ve learned… I can be a very good mother-in-law… and I wouldn’t live next door.

Another 45 minutes or so later, the concert had ended, I had had several more reasons shared with me as to why I ought to consider marrying one of this woman’s sons, and I left the gallery with her e-mail and phone number, not because she had me convinced with her son who looks just like the (absolutely gorgeous, in my opinion) guy in “Fantastic Beasts” (though I remember him from loving him in “Les Mis'”), or with the fact that his job is a promise of absurdly high amounts of money for the rest of our lives, but because of her job…

You see, I was thinking to myself just his morning that I was interested in learning more about this specific something in Houston… and here I was tonight, under hilarious pretenses, handed a woman who works in just that specific something.

I plan to e-mail her this week to set up a meeting about her work.

And, who knows?… perhaps I’ll end up going out with her boy after all. πŸ˜›

H: [totally cracks up, alone in her room, as she considers the scenario]

Post-a-day 2019

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

Memories

My cousin and I were talking tonight about old, old memories in our lives.

Growing up, I had a situation that was incredibly unique at the time (and that still is a bit unique nowadays), in which my parents each had children from a previous spouse, only had me together, married when I was three, and divorced one another when I was four.

My siblings on my mom’s side not only lived in the same neighborhood as I did, but my mom and I were regularly at their dad’s house, spending time with them and, even, their dad, who was my mom’s first husband, but with whom my mom was no longer involved in such a relationship.

My siblings on my dad’s side moved to Georgia (until they kind of moved back, off and on, one by one, starting when I was about nine), and so were only around for certain holidays and for what I guess to have been about a month each summer.

My cousin pointed out that she remembered being often at the place my mom and I lived for many years together after she split up from my dad, the one that was in the neighborhood with my brothers and their dad.

I, too, recalled that they often were there visiting us, and we often were at their house (two hours away, by the way) visiting them.

She then presented the interesting and confounding concept of accepting the idea of someone seeing one’s cousins more often than seeing one’s own siblings…, because that’s really how it was in the first decade and a half of my life, so far as my mom’s sister’s children and my dad’s children were concerned.

I have many more memories from earlier childhood with those cousins than I do with my siblings on my dad’s side.

Certainly, I saw my brothers from my mom all the time, almost daily…, but my cousins were, as I can pull up old school activities and projects to show, some of my favorite people in the world, and they were often on my mind, because I saw them often…, such was not the case with my siblings on my dad’s side.

Sure, I cared about them, and I had spectacular memories from the brief time we all spent in the same house when my parents were married to one another, but I really think we could say that I had more a relationship with and attitude towards them that people have with cousins, rather than one with siblings.

So, my half brothers were like my brothers, my cousins were like my half siblings, and my other half siblings were like my cousins… relationship- and attitude-wise, anyway.

Kind of crazy, huh?

I hadn’t really ever thought much about it, because, as my cousin also pointed out tonight, it can be amazing what kinds of things we just accept as children, not concerned in the least about whether they are uncommon or absurd.

I guess the absurdity doesn’t surprise me, of course, because, well, even now, absurd is normal in my life, as this same cousin so graciously pointed out to me a few years ago. πŸ˜›

Post-a-day 2019