What memory do you wish would sometimes disappear?

Ok, so this prompt wants me to journal on about a memory I wished would disappear. When in reality I find it hard to do so. Sure there are memories that I wish I didn't have...just like I am sure everyone else has memories they sometimes wish they didn't. The problem lies in wishing they weren't there. I can take this prompt in two different ways.

The first way to take it is as it is read. Wishing they would disappear does by no means mean I wish the events that lead to the memories would have never happened. So taking it this way, I would say that there are many I wish I didn't remember. Events that lead to pain or disappointment or even sadness. But that being said, I must take this one step further. There is that old saying that "what doesn't kill me makes me stronger." And you become stronger because you have learned from those events that cause you ill emotion. But, if I magically could forget all those moments of sadness, hurt, and disappointment...how would I learn from those moments? I mean all those moments make you who you are. And this leads to the second way I could take this prompt.

The second way I could take this prompt is that I could say that if I had memories I wish would disappear it is like the whole moment attached to those memories did not happen. And therefore, we are stuck where we were before. Having not learned from those moments that caused us pain or hurt. And without those moments we would not be the people we are today. I know for a fact I would be different without those moments. Because it all leads down to that saying that you can never truly know happiness unless you have also experienced sadness. You would have nothing to quantify things against. You cannot compare two things you have not experienced. It would make it harder for you to sit there and talk about how happy you are because you can't say..."I feel happier today because yesterday I stubbed my toe against the desk". Those moments (even as small as stubbing your toe) allow us to make that needed comparison, so that we may truly understand our emotions as a whole.

And so having skirted this entire issue, I end this here now. I do not wish to list those moments I would choose to forget, because they make me who I am. And there is no one I would rather be in this moment.

What Does Love Smell Like?

Ok.. so this is my attempt at writing from a prompt. The prompt that was chosen for me was: What does love smell like?

Well, to me love can smell like all kinds of things. I think that it is a purely personal thing. I mean it all depends on what you associate love with. To a lot of people they associate it with family. And therefore you might come across someone who says that love smells like home. Or some other abstract thing like that. Because to me..home may spark other olfactory cues than home would for you. Heating with wood our home always smells earthy, but someone who heats with gas probably would say that home smells like something else.

Or perhaps someone would associate family with holidays…and holidays with dinner. So they might say love smells like fresh baked bread, cookies, or mashed potatoes. Perhaps they would blanket the whole idea and say that home smells like food or dinner. But again, they could say anything because it is a personal thing.

Then again that is only one type of love. If you associate love with a significant other you may say that love smells like their cologne or perfume. Maybe their shampoo or laundry detergent. Again this is completely up in the air. They could associate anything with love. Likewise, one relationship to the next, that olfactory association with love is likely to change. Because everyone has a different natural odor, and everyone wears different things. And sometimes even when we like the smell of one cologne on someone, we may not like that same cologne on someone else. Just depends on their nature smell.

And then you may have people like me who associate love with abstract things that make no sense to anyone else. To me love smells like a few different things. One being rain. Like that smell that fills the air after it has rained. I can't even describe it. I mean sometimes it almost reminds me of the ocean, which would make sense. But other times it doesn't at all.

Another thing I associate with love is the smell of laundry that has been hung outside. And I had to stop myself from saying the smell of sunshine. huh. But regardless, there is a crispness to the scent of clothing that was dried outside in the wind and sun. To me that is a love.

I could name so many things that I associate with love, like moss, dirt, fresh brewed tea, Tide, Degree deodorant…I mean there are a multitude of things that I associate with it. But if I were to name them all this entry would end up being far longer than I think it should be.

So I will end this here. If you are bored and have time to ponder this question, think about those smells that you associate with love. It makes for a fun time.

More Later

An old timepiece

The crisp night air enters through a narrow slit between the window and the ledge. Filling this room with an aroma only described as fresh night air. And sometimes you can almost sense the stars on this aroma. Adding an almost sweet essence.

The air is also filled with the gentle rhythm of rain falling against the rooftop. Tapping out the metre to this nights poem. The beats are determined by how many liquid drops fall and upon where they lay. If you listen closely you can hear the gentle rain drops falling through the pine tree. Slowly slipping from one bough to the next. Starting from the top and working their way down to the grass. Almost as if they were caught in a slalom course.

And adding to this gentle mixture is the rising and falling of my chest in the rhythm with the tick of an old timepiece. Steadying to this tick, is the slow progressive beat of my heart. And as I lay here, breathing in the stars, listening to the rain, I cannot help but think of you. Think of what you might be doing, whether you think of me, and perhaps...just perhaps, if you too are breathing in this celestial mixture.

And the sweats say it all...

Ok, so todays blog is again going to be about something that we have all seen. But of course let me set this up properly...

So the other day, we (my guy and I) were walking through a supermarket. Doing some grocery shopping, when along comes this gal wearing fire engine red shorts. And across the ass of these shorts in big bold white lettering was "Miami". And well lets just say that this gal was a little.."curvy" or "thick" so the word on these shorts was quite large. And as terrible as it is to say, my first thought was a joke. Something to the effect of...if the city name on the ass of your pants is larger than the actual city, there is something wrong..and you probably shouldn't be wearing those bottoms. 

AND...now that being said I must tell one on myself. I am a "thick" gal, not heavy, not thin, just thick. I also happen to own a pair of shorts with the name of my alma mater on the ass. Oh and You need to know that my alma mater was rather small. About 1100 students total. SOO fitting my alma maters name (Hiram) on the ass of my shorts means that the name is actually bigger than the student body. And there ya have it. There's the joke on myself. Always good to know that a gal has a sense of humor.

Anyway, I have nothing more to say on the subject. So more later...

And It All Ends With A Kiss...

Ok, so I was watching a television show today. I'm not gonna mention which one, cause I really don't care to incriminate myself. However, I was watching it and two of the characters are dating. So, of course because there needs to be conflict for the show to continue..these characters split up. The guy breaks it off with the gal. And while I have experienced that scenario far too many times, that is not what brought this blog into existence. After he tells her they can no longer see each other...he leans in and kisses her. <---and there is where this blog comes in...

What the hell is with that?!?! I mean seriously? What makes guys think it is ok to kiss a gal he just dumped? I mean really how could that turn out ok? It actually only leads to confusion. And well, that is no good. Trust me..I know.

I have had the pleasure of having every guy I have ever dated kiss me upon the break up. It is one of those.."We can't see each other anymore...*KISS*" or the "I love you, but I am not in love with you..I hope we can stay friends *KISS*".  Like...seriously? Ugh. The first time led to serious confusion, the second time a little less confused, but still confused...and after that..well..yeah..you learn to deal. It becomes less of an issue. I mean hell, with my last break-up I was expecting that kiss. Which in my opinion is pretty freakin' weird. Who expects to be kissed by someone they are breaking up with them?? ME..that's who. haha.

So anyway, there is my random thought of this evening. Hope it entertained everyone. 

PEACE

Deli Meats in the Cupboard

Ok. So todays post is about something we have all done. I don't care who you are, or what level of society you belong to, you have done this.

So I find myself today in the presence of a three year old. To make matters worse, he was hungry. And nothing could be awful than a hungry three year old. And not only is he hungry, but in desperate need of a nap. And of course to top it all off...he was having a picky day. You know the type of day where he doesn't want to eat just anything...but something very specific. And telling you this magical food would just be too damn easy. So we play twenty questions, so I can find out the food that will calm this little man down. Turns out, it was grilled cheese.

So I proceed to plop him in front of the TV with Curious George, so I can prepare this magical meal of grilled cheese sandwiches. And it hits me..pure inspiration. I should add some ham to these sandwiches. Lets face, ham is good. He like ham. I like ham. Lets add some ham. And so I start getting out all the ingredients needed for these sandwiches: bread, butter, cheese and of course the ham. I butter the bread, unwrap the cheese slices, and lay the ham on the plate so that when I assemble the sandwiches in the pan it is within easy grabbing distance.

While sandwich number one is cooking in the pan, I started to put away the ingredients I am done with already. And this is where the title of this entry comes in. I put the bread away no problem. The butter didn't give me any trouble..nor did the cheese. It was that extra ingredient, ham, that gave me all the problems. 

I start to put the ham away, and I realize that I was in fact going to put the ham in the cupboard. And surely ham doesn't belong there. I know that. My brain knows that. So why the hell was I gonna put the ham into my cupboard? Oh and to make matters worse..I wasn't using anything from that cupboard to make the sandwiches. So it wasn't like my brain switched which items went where. It just decided it would be fun to let ham rot in the cupboard. Unfortunately for my brain..I woke up and realized what I was doing before I had completed the action. 

And so, having given that long description of what I did. You may all now tell me your experiences with doing that. Putting items away, specifically in the kitchen, where they don't belong. Like things that belong in the refrigerator in the cupboard.

More Later

Good self-esteem days...

So, I was randomly sitting here today thinking that I should blog. And then it donned on my what my first topic should be. And well, it is sorta set up like a comedian telling a joke, cause that is how it came to me. haha. So here goes.

Ya know what is the worst day to go clothes shopping? On good self-esteem days. *cue laughter* I mean seriously, I know every lady in here has done that at least once or twice.  You know you wake up, look in the mirror and you think.."damn...who is that foxy motherfucker staring back at me? Oh man, it's me! Well, aren't I sexy today?" And then in a fit of brilliance you decide that to celebrate this wondrous day of looking good, you will take yourself shopping. So you get dressed do the once over in the mirror, and realize that you are still looking just as good as you did before. So you leave the house, drive to the mall and enter a store. Not Macy's or anywhere respectable like that, but something more along the lines of Madame Roxie's Boutique of Sluttiness. Cause really? You are one sexy motherfucker and if anyone can pull off those clothes it is you!

So once in the store you ask the associate to point you in the direction of the most revealing clothing they sell. And so standing there amongst the thongs and spandex, you pick out the most raunchy dress you can find. Slits up the side, holes cut in the bodice, and short enough that one sneeze would expose everything. So you try it on and look in the mirror..and once again think you are IT. 

You end up purchasing the dress and take it home. Once there, you hang the dress in the closet and call it a day. The next evening you get a call from a friend who wants to go out to the club. And you think, "This will be the perfect opportunity to take that dress out for a spin". So you get ready, shower, put the dress on, and then go into the bathroom to do your hair and makeup. You look in the mirror and are appalled at what you see. "Where did this ugly cow from from?" And then you realize that the ugly cow you are referring to, is you. You think this can't be right..."I tried on that dress just yesterday, it must have shrunk..it's a trick...must be water weight." You think of every possible excuse there is as to why this dress no longer fits. And then you realize that you have been duped by good self-esteem yet again.

And that is the story of why women shouldn't go shopping on good self-esteem days. Because seriously, we don't need to be spending more money on things we won't ever wear. And I know we all have those outfits in our closet..those items we never wear cause they don't look right. So heed my warning and don't let your friends go out shopping on good self-esteem days.