I know I’m weird enough without telling more of what goes on inside my head, but I get stuck on certain words.  They just randomly float to the front of my mind (or back sometimes) and I ponder them at length.  The word “confidence” has been the word of the day.  I can’t tell you what sparked it or why but I just can’t let it go.  I think confidence is one of the sexiest things ever.  Denise Baumann, makeup and fashion goddess, discussed confidence being so sexy when I interviewed her for the Coast Observer.  [My apologies for not having that article handy to give her exact words]  I remember after she said whatever exact words it was that it lingered with me a while then as well.  Maybe seeing her last Thursday with all her fierceness just evoked that thought again.  Everything about her–from her dress with the cute little bow in front to her bold hair–just oozes confidence; she spills it with every word and she is just one of the coolest damn people to talk to.  [Do I have a girl crush? 😉 Maybe the blog traffic will pick up.]   I think because she’s one of the few people I’ve always seen walk to the talk is why I admire her so much.  She’s super talented but she doesn’t gloat.  She promotes herself, of course, but in a way so few other people do.  It’s the “let me show you what I can do” type thing and not “I’m the best there’s ever been” kinda attitude.  She loves a challenge.

So while I’ve been drifting off into my brain matter, I’ve been asking myself, “What IS confidence?  How is confidence different than other attributes?”  It kinda stumped me a couple days then I realized confidence is a quiet thing.  It isn’t a lions roar or the siren’s call.  No; you may give attention to that sort of thing, but confidence is more like an invisible vapor.  You pick up on the scent–and you’re drawn to it.  You may think you are paying attention because of a visual aid but what keeps you hanging on to every word a confident person exudes is because of the subtle way confidence fills the air around you.   Several other people came to mind–Cheli Strumlia is a good example.  It isn’t that these women are silent or aren’t striking–because they are!–but for me the awe in them both is that they simply put themselves out there without airs or apologies for their accomplishments.  Let’s just say you have no idea who Cheli is (shame on you!) but when you meet her she lights up a building!  You don’t have to know what she’s accomplished or how big her heart is and how much she’d give to those she cares for, but something about her just draws people in.  (That girl crush thing might actually boost the number of readers eh?)

Word nerd that I am, I like to also know the definition and derivation and origin.  Turns out confidence comes from my native tongue Latin confidere meaning “have full trust.”  Bam!  That’s it.  Confidence is that silent thing emitting from people that they know whatever comes at them, they can take it.  It’s a trust in their own ability to handle the future.  It isn’t what they’ve done, but where they are going.  It’s the people that know when to slow down and catch their breath so they can sprint hard when the time comes.  They’ve had to do it many, many times before.  They soak up the sun when it’s shining and bear the storms in sexy rain boots.  They trust in themselves fully.  Maybe not every hour of every day, but when they need it it’s there.

All of that thinking led me to the real question, “do I have confidence?”  Yes.  A resounding yes.  At first it was a barely audible whisper deep in my soul, but after I thought it out it got louder and louder.  Not that there aren’t days and times when I think my soul couldn’t be beat any harder, because they exist.  But it’s stupid things–like hearing my loud, obnoxious laugh wake up the dog earlier–and taking that moment to realize how freaking good it feels to smile that reminded me, I got this.  Confidence isn’t knowing what the road ahead is going to be, it’s simply not being afraid to keep walking.  It’s that trust and inner compass guiding you.  Stop and smell the roses (although I’m more of a tree climber but to each his own) when you need to, but whatever you do, KEEP GOING.  Trust enough in yourself and the universe to provide to you; that whatever is on your heart is exactly what you need to reach your dreams.  I don’t mean to imply I’m a role model for this confidence thing, just merely that I observed it and I see a hint of it in me.  And obviously I get the pleasure of having some stellar people in my life to inspire me.  I don’t think leaps of faith always have gentle landings, but the lessons make the leap totally worth it.  You have to trust your lessons in order to make a bigger leap or else you will not get very far and you’ll never see the beauty of your own uniqueness.  And authenticity?  Well, now that is sexy.

In an effort to stimulate my mind, people watch, and get out of the house; I have found myself at a casino nightclub the last three nights.  Surprisingly having fun.  I say “surprisingly” because that’s not my typical comfort zone.  One thing I’ve learned as a writer, you have to get outside your comfort zone. A nightclub still doesn’t fall into the comfort category, but there are perks.  For one thing, if you want to blend in it’s very easy to do.  Few people stick out in a large crowd.  And, maybe it’s the look on my face or something, but I realized last night the number of guys who actually make a move to hit on me are averaging like 1 per night.  I can swat away one per night pretty effortlessly.  Last night I met two cool dudes from the Air Force in my swatting maneuver.  I actually said to the one, “Hey look I need a wing man and quick-like.  If you’re here alone, mind giving me a hug and acting like we know each other so that guy doesn’t come back to talk to me?”  Turns out he and his buddy were hilarious and had “prime real estate” (his words) at a bar overlooking the dance floor.  BAM. I’m already talking to a guy so no more swatting was needed, helped him eye chicks, we had a good view, and a great night was had.

Post-Waffle House, I was driving home and despite my intention of going and merely observing I was a little down to realize I don’t turn many heads.  I bought a new dress–and wore it.  I like it but then compared to the 20-somethings (and other-somethings doing it), I looked like a nun because their asses were barely covered.  For recordkeeping purposes, I had on spaghetti straps and it was above the knee; it just wasn’t as body clinging and exposing as some of the girls who probably didn’t have much of a bar tab.  Cruise [feat Nelly] came on iTunes while I was cruising I-10 and for a very brief moment I was a little caught up in why I am single at 35. I’m not the tune anyone is humming. I’d been talking to those guys-I guess my testosterone was up a bit- because suddenly I felt like Tony Romo and apparently thought that deemed a Facebook post which was, “That moment you realize at 5am you’re the Tony Romo of single ladies: no longer a rookie, statistically brilliant, & yet e’erbody knows you ain’t getting a ring this year!”

It was, of course, meant to be funny.  Even my serious thoughts have a bit of humor–however dark.  It also in NO WAY is to be taken that I don’t think my NFL team doesn’t stand a chance at the Super Bowl rings!  Whether we actually do or not is not relevant; when you love your team you stand by them and you do NOT give up hope.  I want to clarify that.

I also saw a Facebook post shortly after mine that reminded me many a shackle has been inlaid with diamonds.  Oh yes, many many many.  I was crackin a joke but I got real serious again (notice how my brain just canNOT stay on one side of the fence long) after reading that.  I’ve done it and I know a load of others who have stayed in some relationships for the wrong reasons.  Oh those rings do turn into cuffs for some.  And I have zero desire to ever make that mistake again.  At 35, you learn when to dip out to avoid misery.  I’m single by choice and I learned years ago it’ll take a hell of a man to ever get a ring on this hand.  And I don’t mean that to insinuate that I’m better than anyone else or like the golden nugget of women.  Nope; I’m not a bombshell, don’t have an endless supply of cash, dance very badly, and I’m kinda awkward in a non-endearing “bless her heart” way.  But I do LIKE me.  I see my value.  More and more everyday.  Sometimes it has to be pointed out to me.  Like the bestie who said to me earlier this week, “Apryl, you have seen, done, and have more than some people in their 70s & 80s.”  Well, when you put it like that, I guess that’s true. [Make note, “Love Bites” just cued on iTunes shuffle at that moment]

So for those who laughed at the Tony Romo comparison, I’m glad you get me and my odd way of looking at life.  If you thought I was starting a pity party or lamenting too heavily on being single, I’m not.  In fact, I have a damn good life.  I’m happy and content with what is and isn’t.  Human behavior seems to naturally make you always want what you can’t have–which is the only explanation for why I seek out a mate ever!  The elusive relationship that manages to be balanced, healthy, and ever-lasting is about the only complaint I could utter about my life.  I’m super duper infinitely blessed in every area of life sans love.  And I got the love of my family and SO many friends.  For a brief moment there I thought life was holding me hostage.  I realized last week the gun was in my hand.  My own attitude was all that was holding me back.  Ask the guy I met yesterday morning who’d been riding a bicycle for four months and only had coins on him how bad my life is.  I asked myself that after it was revealed the man needed a job and Ingalls told him to find a way there and he’d be put to work.  And I dare think I have a single problem?  Naw, dawg, homegirl ain’t got a single problem.  It’s true, people do pray for what you have.  And on that note, I’ll quit boring readers and go count my blessings by enjoying the heck out of Sunday.  [iTunes did it again. Sheryl Crow “Soak Up the Sun”. BAM, life for the win.]

Cause it sums it up better than I can.

Have you got colour in your cheeks?
Do you ever get that fear that you can’t shift
The type that sticks around like summat in your teeth?
Are there some aces up your sleeve?
Have you no idea that you’re in deep?
I dreamt about you nearly every night this week
How many secrets can you keep?
‘Cause there’s this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat
Until I fall asleep
Spilling drinks on my settee

(Do I wanna know)
If this feeling flows both ways?
(Sad to see you go)
Was sort of hoping that you’d stay
(Baby we both know)
That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day

Crawling back to you

Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few?
‘Cause I always do
Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new
Now I’ve thought it through

Crawling back to you

So have you got the guts?
Been wondering if your heart’s still open and if so I wanna know what time it shuts
Simmer down and pucker up
I’m sorry to interrupt. It’s just I’m constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you
I don’t know if you feel the same as I do
But we could be together if you wanted to

(Do I wanna know?)
If this feeling flows both ways?
(Sad to see you go)
Was sort of hoping that you’d stay
(Baby we both know)
That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day

Crawling back to you (crawling back to you)

Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few? (you’ve had a few)
‘Cause I always do (’cause I always do)
Maybe I’m too (maybe I’m too busy) busy being yours to fall for somebody new
Now I’ve thought it through

Crawling back to you

(Do I wanna know?)
If this feeling flows both ways?
(Sad to see you go)
Was sort of hoping that you’d stay
(Baby we both know)
That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day

(Do I wanna know?)
Too busy being yours to fall
(Sad to see you go)
Ever thought of calling darling?
(Do I wanna know?)
Do you want me crawling back to you?

I think crappy days serve a purpose.  It didn’t dawn on me until just now–when I’m preparing to end the day and started reflecting on how crappy it was.  I’m quite lucky in that the external universe didn’t really have anything to do with it.  No, today is the epitome of being my own worst enemy.

I wish I had a counter in my head for all the times I was hard on myself today.  I can rattle off a list of things I said to myself:

• Stop eating, you’re going to get fat again (I’m at 109 lbs)
• You’re the most impatient person on earth.  You’re never going to see anything to the end because you don’t have the patience required to wait for something good.
• You’re pores are too big
• You need to clean more
• You’re lazy
• You should be relaxed enough to not need a nerve pill on the weekend
• You fidget too damn much
• You are wasting your day and your time and possibly your entire life!

It went on & on & on.  But when I was brushing my teeth, I looked into the mirror (see above about pores) and quietly said inside my little head, “I’ll try again tomorrow.”  And then I realized, despite the last 14 hours having not been all that wonderful, I persevere.  Yes, I demand answers to questions that have no answers.  Yes, I totally overate.  Yes, being patient takes me mentally to the brink sometimes.  But I guess what everyone says about me being “strong” is that little tiny voice inside that tells me to go on.

I don’t give up.  I give in sometimes, but I never give up.  My life is NOT what I thought it would be right now.  I got thrown a curve ball I didn’t see coming.  Top that big issue with I get sucked up into my little vortex of thoughts and I’m not really all that great at coming out of it.  But I try again and again and again.  I can’t even tell you why.  I guess it is something about me that doesn’t stop.  Great characteristic for survival, but it has its drawbacks–witness statements can back it up.  Bottom line: when it comes to people, love, and I guess the uncertainty of life in general the only decision that really matters no matter how crappy the day is that we’re going to try again tomorrow.  I’m going to be impatient and sometimes demanding, but wow my faith on even the shakiest days remains present.  Now, how can I get myself to remember this?

I don’t know how healthy it is but lately I’ve been looking at life as to what’s gonna happen when Chloe is gone.  I don’t know if it’s healthy for me or not, but facts are this dog is 13 this year and she’s got a lot of health problems.  She’s my baby and really, she’s all I got.  It’s frightening to think of suddenly being alone without her.  Dog has been through hell and back with me.  At the same time, it’s somewhat liberating.

Liberating eh?  Well, yes.  She is what ties me to this house.  Ok, that, and the housing market.  It’s not my happy spot.  In fact, this place feels like a tomb more often than not.  But I promised her that she could have her own yard til the day she died.  She could roam a bit farther back then.  Now, she takes a few steps off the patio and comes right back inside 99% of the time.  Would she really notice or care if the yard wasn’t there?  Doubtful.  And, I hate leaving the house for more than 2-3 hours without her being checked on.  I pay a wonderful service that lets her out once a day for me while I work.  But I can’t go on weekend trips to Destin, New Orleans, Austin, or any other of my desired destinations and feel comfortable doing so.  If it hadn’t been for my Mom coming to care for her, I would have been very stressed about Italy.

So when Chloe is gone–and I recover from the mental breakdown–I think a lot will change.  I’m moving.  I’m not unopposed to leaving the Coast.  I have nothing bad to say about it, I just think I need to explore more of the world while I can.  I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, but it is decided that whether it’s to a condo or a mansion here or somewhere else (I might play spin the globe and decide that way!)–I’m outta dis house.

The way I see it–and someone tell me if I’m wrong here–I have absolutely nothing tying me down.  I have no kids, no family here.  I am smart enough to make it anywhere.  I have several skills that can get me a job or (my dream) launch my own career.  I’m shaving down the absolute insane amount of stuff I’ve managed to hoard (all bought thinking I’d be happy if I had it.  Wrong).  I’ll be free as a damn bird.  It’s both sad and thrilling. I have gone 35 years and my only roots are this four-legged creature.  That’s it.  I don’t really know what will come and I don’t know how to process that information, it’s just been on my mind.

Spring has sprung.  I know this because my car is covered in pollen.  Bees are all over my back patio.  While I hate the assholes, I’m not killing them because apparently we need them and yada yada yada.  The pretty flowering bush outside my bedroom window is showing signs of buds.  Pretty pink ones.  The crawfish festival is approaching.  Winter is over.  Another season of this life has come and gone.

People are like seasons.  They change.  They come and go.  As soon as I embrace that and learn it and accept it as truth, I know I’ll feel better.  And people, like seasons, have their dramatic events.  Unfortunately, there’s no weather channel for people.  They never cease to amaze–both in beauty and in destruction.  The older I get, the less drama I want (not that I’ve ever been a fan of it).  I get caught up in my own brain too damn much though.

Today, a Monday with its usual chaos was also the last day of the month.  For a sales-driven establishment, this meant double the chaos.  I was in the midst of the chaos and it felt like my brain was, for lack of a better analogy, being floored.  Adrenaline, snap decisions, multiple people clamoring to get into my office or on my cell, and emails pouring in.  I suddenly realized the cause of the stress and my anxiety wasn’t so much that I couldn’t handle that situation, but rather that I don’t turn it off well.  I can’t stop it all from coming at me.  It’s what I get paid to manage.

But what has it cost ME?  And when I leave the office, how much of my brain do I let free of that frenzy?  Quite frankly, since vacation, zero.  It’s like a car that’s never not driven hard.  But I’m no sports car, I don’t come with a warranty.  And how much damage I’ve done to myself and others remains to be seen.  I’ve let the anxiety, stress, and need for snap decision-making override my ability to remain calm and let life just be.  I have carried over that demanding attitude and lack of patience into places it was not welcome.  What the next season holds, I don’t even bother to assume or guess.  That would only fuel the fire.  So, what does a person who needs action and wants plans do when it’s in her detriment to have such?

I don’t know.  I have zero clues.  I’ll figure it out though.  I’ve managed to stumble this far and no doubt the answer I need will come when I need it. Maybe, just maybe, I need to observe the seasons–both weather and people-related–and nothing else.  (insert Vince Vaughn’s laugh from Be Cool)

One thing about me and having some anxiety issues, is that patience and understanding continue to be a problem.  Not knowing something drives me CRAZY!  I will also jump to the worst possible conclusion imaginable in a single bound.  It’s some severe personal flaws.  I think acknowledging them though helps put them in their place.  Today, I realize there is a lot of time left alive (hopefully) and time is a gift, not a torture.  Anxiety Girl has a way of not seeing that AT ALL and feeling like the world must be taken by fire every instant and doesn’t give my brain a breather.  Yesterday, I finally realized Anxiety Girl is gonna have to take a vacation and let my brain have peace.

Sadly, that Anxiety Girl Superhero can drive others crazy on a regular basis.  So those friends with the capacity to see me for the human I am and still stick around knowing the good outweighs the bad, a sincere thank you.  I struggle to maintain clarity in those moments that frighten me.  It’s hard to sit back and be cool.  It’s almost like I have to be taken by the shoulders and shaken (not too hard) and told, “Calm the hell down, woman.  No one is getting out of here alive anyway.”  The great news is that I’m learning to do it the older I get.  And though I still take myself and life far too seriously, I always come back to the center.  It’s been a while since I felt this good.

I haven’t dealt with my anxiety and emotions well the last few weeks.  I knew it was spiralling and sometimes searching for whatever can stop it only makes it worse.  It’s like the more I looked for answers the more anxious I got!  Funny how one sentence–said to me in frustration and I think merely as a sidenote not even the point–stuck with me and drew me out of my own skull.  It put everything in perspective.  It showed me that in dealing with humans, I still have a long way to go in seeing two sides to every story.  Even when that story is our own–especially when it is–all the more imperative to try to understand someone else’s perspective.  I think I got there.  And, in a way, made me realize the huge attempts the other party was making for my benefit even when they didn’t feel like it.  Time to return the favor.

Yesterday, I downed a good portion of wine before 5pm, never got out of my pjs, and slept for like 12 hours (with Chloe interrupting a few times to go pee).  I watched a couple movies and zoned out.  I didn’t pause them when I wanted to dwell on my issues, I just went back to the zone.  I literally had to shut down my brain.  Today, I feel like a new woman–refreshed, clear, and clean.  I needed that shutdown.  I forget to take time to shut down and I know I realize how important it is.  And that also helped clarify for me that all humans need it.  And when someone is in shutdown mode (just like I was), interrupting them is only going to prolong the problems they face until they are refreshed and clear.  The bigger the issues and longer it’s been since the last shutdown, the more time they need.  Anxiety Girl doesn’t understand that.  I’m glad I took the cape off and let it all go.

It’s 6am and I already wanna throat punch somebody. People drive me to the brink of insanity. I haven’t even gotten around to reading my emails. Thanks to iPhone preview, I can tell you, that’s gonna need to be something I do in a couple hours after a pill kicks in and I can start dealing with other peoples problems more rationally than just punching them.

Now understand, this throat punch would not be to an elderly human or an animal. If a child came across my path, well that would be quite odd. I may extend my arm out of sheer defense before I realized it was just a tiny human. I don’t see a lot of kids folks. And as far as teenagers go, well most of them are my size (or here in MS, most are bigger) and hey, I think they count as legitimate hits. Plus, they are full of angst and hormones so it may be a connection is made. Like, “hey kid, sometimes we all just wanna throat punch somebody and when you get through 35 years of nothing but bullshit you can exercise your right to throat punch.”

You know, I could be a positive influence on a teen with a random throat punch. Like motivation to keep on keeping on until their own mid-life crisis hits. What if that kid was ready to give up on life and then in this spiritual moment of awakening we share, he/she realizes there is more to life than [insert whatever is troubling today’s teens-Instagram?]. Also, could be the deciding factor for that young adult that we need more therapists in the world. Or this kid could decide we need more doctors who can distribute pharmaceuticals. Or, maybe an entrepreneur could be born at that instant! That kid could open Mississippi’s first all night coffee shop to serve women going through a mid-life crisis driven awake and eventually insane by their own thoughts. Whereas if I had a classy…..snickered there at “Mississippi” and “classy” didn’t you? Ok, a cleaner and less scary alternative to Waffle House to go sit and think then maybe the innocent suffering of throat punching he/she experienced would never have to happen again.

Meh. Maybe I’ll skip the throat punch, realize I am NOT getting more sleep despite a burning desire to do so, make coffee (it’s looking like a 3 cup day), shave my legs (ha! I’m just saying that), wash my hair (I’ll really do that), and go get paid. But secretly, while I talk to everyone today, I’ll be ticking off the insane number of reasons they SHOULD be throat punched knowing I cannot do so. Ohhhhhhh! Now we have a mental game to play on Thursday. It just got interesting.

A long time ago (in a galaxy far, far away), I made a vow to myself. That vow encompassed never letting myself feel this way, this much for anyone ever again. And yet, here I am, lying down to sleep with a trillion thoughts swirling about. As to what is felt, I’m too scared to go there. I don’t like breaking vows. The few I have made are simple, and thus far reliant. If I dig too deep, I may uncover what I fear the most: I have already broken that vow never to feel so much I can hurt.

And I know that’s silly. I’m not a robot (sadly), I’m a human. Not just a lousy human, a WOMAN at that. A nurturing, sacrificing, giving, loving woman. Who feels. And after 35 years, it unsettles me. But ya know what? Despite my uneasiness with all the things that are part of me, denying them would be a lack of acceptance for me. In all my forms. So, what do you do? (Clearly you lay awake at night and ponder stuff that makes no sense)

At some point I reckon I better make peace or sever whatever is below the surface. But that requires careful examination. And so, the journey continues. Elusive and confusing as it may be, it’s mine. Dear self, forge on and forget not that good things are ahead.

I am laying in bed, hoping to get very tired and fall to sleep with a quickness. My brain needs to shut down. There are a myriad of thoughts polluting me. And tenfold the emotions. This is new territory. I don’t like it.

I’ve never had so much to say to someone and kept it inside (positive things…plenty of unexpressed negativity. This is different). I’ve never felt the urges to leave this place I call home for just one more random hug in a parking lot of a coop (or wherever) and to plant a kiss on his cheek. I have never ached nor missed nor cried like this. I laughed at the tv–& knew he would have to had he been here–and suddenly the pain inside my chest was unbearable. I’ve never seen me like this. I have no idea what to make of it.

Inside the powerful and whimsical brainiac lies….a romantic. Not the kind to recite poetry or make superfluous promises. A different kind. The kind willing to wait it out and see. The worst kind. The kind that just flies on hope and faith. Things not seen, words not spoken. It scares the fuck out of me yo! The unselfish kind who doesn’t want to push more than she wants to know. That’s remarkable in this lifetime for this gal. Someone at a loss for words. Who knew.

Enough said.