Twilight on the Toilet

This might be T.M.I, so stop if you are prudish....

For those who are notfaint of heart, the other day I was in the bathroom and, all of a sudden, I noted the distinct stare of a pair of eyes. I was ashamed, awkward and very worried as I realized whose glowing eyes stared back at me.

No, not Walter Cronkite or K.Stew! Robert, *sigh*, oh Robert. There he was, Robert Pattinson, staring at me in all his "messy" glory. I bought this magazine months ago and it found its way to the bathroom. I've read the articles about 65 times and, somehow, he was the top magazine, in the basket, aside the sink that stared at me whilst I was on the potty. I guess my Dad was interested in Robert's messy affairs, because I haven't brought this mag to the top in a long time.

Regardless, how shamed was I? Robert Pattinson had now seen me and my nether-regions! I would've apologized, if he hadn't been in the form of a magazine picture. Everytime something like this happens, I think of Harry Potter's world where pictures come to life. If that were true, how weird would it be for Robert to be, red-faced and awkward as ever, staring back at me in the loo. I imagined the conversation would go something like this:

Robert (all awkward and British): Oh, uh, sorry, uh, uh, uh, I'll just...(as he turns away).

Me (all awkward and American): Oh my all that is good and glorious!! ROBERT PATTINSON! It is an honor. I love your work.

Robert (trying to not look at my hoo-ha): Well, thanks, uh (runs fingers through his own hair 32 times just to make sure it doesn't look managed). Maybe you should, uh, uh, uh...

Me (realizing I am half-nude and compromised on the potty): OH MY GOSH! Silly me! So, how's your messy love life going?

Robert: Uh, uh, well, uh, (awkward laugh), uh, you know. 

Things would end there, I hear Robert is quite shy, and I would awkwardly kiss his picture's face. He would be more awkward, run his hands through his hair 62 more times) and run out of the magazine cover leaving me only with K.Stew. who'd be saying something ridiculous that I'd have to decode later.

*Sigh*

If only our magazine covers came to life. Time to get a new magazine. Next up, Taylor Lautner (bow-chica-wow-wow).

To bathroom friends,

~The Lady~

Sick Realizations

First and foremost, my day turned around greatly on Tuesday. I even got a whole new blouse for free! Thanks for your concern!

Secondly, now I am sick. Boo.

In this congested, sniffly-time I've been doing quite some over-the-counter-drug-induced thinking. My chest feels congested, my nose is stuffed and I cannot smell/taste. Clarity through the junk that my body is filled with is an interesting concept, but one I am growing to love/hate. I love that I have a clear mind, but I hate that I am sick. Anyway, here is the thought: no one else matters. 

I've probably been jealous of others 85% of my life. I've feigned and pretended I was above it all, but I haven't been. I read things, I watch stuff and I languish in the materials, values and joys of others. I want her outfit, his car, her life and his skill. I want, I want and I want. I can't get enough of what others have.

It's time to empty it all out. It's time to stop wanting and focus on what I have, what I can give and who I am. No one else matters. No one's rules can take over my life so much that I ruin myself wanting, trying so much harder to reach some ideal of perfection that can't be reached. I want to make my own perfection.

So who am I?

I am messy, careless, sarcastic and rude.
I am anxious, excited and calm.
I am spiritual, thoughtful and emotional.
I am reflective, apologetic and forgetful
I am lazy, hard working and trying.
I am loving, frightened and kind.
I am so many things one blog can't express, one entry can't hold.

Who are you? Tell me a bit about you. In sharing, we may all find clarity, or not. At least, we'll get to talking about what really matters - ourselves and no one else.

Enjoy what you have & who you are :)
~The Lady~

Had a Bad Day

"When life hands you lemonades, run home screaming in horror because even life is telling things are looking sour" - a Lady original piece.

9:37 a.m and this is already shaping up to be an epic-fail kind of day.

• First of all, the Phillies played a fantastically exciting game until 12 last night. I am a Grandma in so many ways that staying up until 12 has now hit me hard. Staying up has hit me harder than a Suzuki hitting a defenseless woman crossing the street. I am feeling the pain. 
  
• My eyes are burning. A combination of "I need new contacts" and "I lack sleep" have turned into "I can't open my eyes properly.
• My new blouse, out of the blue, decided that its sleeve would rip open. It was such a cute blouse. I have thrown out the receipt, and, thusly, will have to live with the rip. For the bones I spent on this bad-boy, I really deserve and entirely new shirt. SERIOUSLY. Look how cute it is! Thank the Lord I have this sweater to cover the holey-situation. RIP precious tunic top. You served me well. Alright, you served me for about an hour and then your seams pooped out on life. 
• I have a tummy ache. I just want to crawl into child's pose, drink some ginger-ale and call it a day.
• A co-worker, who I don't really know well, walked by me and giggled as if I'd said something funny, but I hadn't. She then proceeded to giggle, correct herself and move on. I haven't moved on because I am fairly certain she was just laughing at me. Awesome. 
• Someone said to me the following dreaded phrase: "You look tired." Stick a fork in me, I'm done. Jeez. Saying someone "looks tired" encompasses so many insults. Not only do you look sleep-deprived, you have bags under your eyes proving this fact. Not only did you probably not get sleep, and feel generally crappy, your face, body and (ripped) outfit all prove the fact that you are a waste of life right now. 
• It's Tuesday. Not Friday. Not even close. I woke up thinking it was Thursday (who knows why) and was sadly mistaken.
  
• Finally, the cafeteria is playing "PINK's greatest hits" - while I appreciate a good Pink song every now and again, 80 minutes of this has sent me, officially, over the deep end.

Lady, 0, Life 7.

Trying to make some lemonade out of life's lemons,


~The Lady~