Irrational

Whenever I get super stressed out, sometimes I do something productive to get rid of the nervous energy that goes along with it.  The weeks shit-losing session ended in me doing all the laundry.  All of it.  Cleaned the bathroom.  Did all the dishes.  And then cleaned out my black hole that is my refrigerator.  With gross teens, that's a lot of groady.

I keep wanting to write an open letter to teenage girls about dating and boys.  But I won't.  I don't have real advice to give, other than DON'T DO IT.  That in itself is all the advice you need, really.

They say this soul mate hunting will cost me my mind....
I say I'd go insane if I stop.
You might wonder how much you can hate someone you once truly loved;
But how can you not:
When they squander your kindness
And make you feel miserable most of the time.
When they flatter you out of their own convenience 
And disregard your needs
And shrug as they glance over their shoulder rather than take heed.
The real question begs: how could you have fallen for someone like that?
I have a tendency to ramble
And if it doesn't hit my ears sweeter than Cole Porter I don't want it anymore;
I was never really one to enjoy playing the part of the whore.
I'm still figuring out my place on this big blue marble
And then I remember the one place that always made room 
for my jagged edges.
Forgive me;   you.
It was always you.
I hope you know that you are loved.
Bizarrely and irrationally,
But loved entirely nonetheless.

~ Cynicallovebird

Sweaty Palms

I used to imagine what it would be like to wake up next to you.
To hear you fight off sleep as your feet hit the floor.

I showed you exactly how to love me.You lacked attention, not ability.

I have finally unpacked myself from the box you tried so hard to keep me in and
My heart isn't broken because I never got to experience the privilege,
But because you have no idea what my pancakes taste like.

~ Cynicallovebird

I never get nervous when I have to do public speaking or a huge event with lots of people.  Dating, on the other hand, creates the sweaty palmed, "Oh my dear Lawd what in heavens have I done thinking I could leave the house looking like this hot mess" thing.....  I have to go in alone.  One on one, with another adult, who is judging the crap out of me.  Judging whether or not I'm worthy of seeing again.  No buffer of a friend to distract me.  Just me, in all my awkward, nervous talking, inappropriate joke cracking, hot mess glory.  Shit your pants crazy scary for me.  

That's when I have to stop and remind myself who I am.  I am a fucking bad ass.  I mean, come on;  raising two kids on your own is not for the faint of heart.  Throw in the fact that there is no co-parenting battles, child support or help of any kind, and you've got ME.  Just me.  I don't need to impress anyone.  I look fucking hot as hell in the dress that two weeks ago I bought on a whim and so fucking what I have a gut?  I can do this!  I don't need a buffer to win someone over.  Yes, my pictures of my great boobs might have helped a little, but it's my humor and my smile that'll keep the right one, eventually.  And it's not approval or validation that I seek;  it's connection.  Always connection.  Conversation.  Someone who wakes up thinking about what I might say next that they can't wait to hear.  

And you know another thing;  bitches get stuff done.  Most men claim to desire driven, independent and confident women.  Yet when confronted with one, they can't handle it.  I was told once that I was intimidating.  I shut that shit down immediately.  The person who is intimidated by me, the least intimidating person on the planet, who would die for someone to love her even enough to cover her pinky compared to the amount that she loves and gives of herself, is EXACTLY the person that I don't have time for.  The time waster.  The game player.  How about being a game changer for once?  I am never going to be one who isn't afraid to put you in your place, but I also expect to be put in mine.  

Whenever I'd put up my tough-girl shell, and sometimes I still do, I keep telling myself, "Damn J, tuck in the crazy just a tad...Too much.  Tone it down".  But here's the truth:  whenever I got dumped or called a bitch it was from a situation where I was making others uncomfortable with my own security, and I am done apologizing for evolving past your comfort zone.  I have busted my ass to have everything that I have.  I am resilient and persistant.  I have opinions.  I am not sorry for being a strong woman.  

There is a metric shit ton more to write about this, but my brain is fried from the past 48 hours and my body decided that it was way past my bedtime around lunch, so.....

I came across a meme that said "My next relationship is either going to either be my last relationship or my first murder charge because y'all not going to keep playing me like I'm average."   I'm pretty sure I don't need to say anything else...