Friday, July 31, 2009

Jogging is the devil

I HATE jogging. Hate.It. Don't do it very well at all. However, this morning I took out the scale and took a looksey. What do you know, I gained 1.5lbs. That's a big no no. So I'm sitting here trying to convince myself to go jogging. Can you tell I'm stalling? Could it be because I'm writing an entry instead of, I don't know, jogging? I'm sitting here fully dressed, ready to go, but my brain just cannot convince my mind to get it done! All I can think about is food, I'm so friggin hungry! Ugh. Ok, ok, ok, no more hesitating. Here goes nothing...

Thursday, July 30, 2009

You're forever etched in my skin

I love tattoos. Since I was young I had a fascination with them. How could people love something so much that they are willing to seal it on their body forever? How could you get a tattoo of a big heart today and not be terribly sick of seeing it in 5 years?

That took me on a journey of looking at tattoo magazines, and the gazillion tattoo photo galleries that are online. It was then that I saw that not all tattoos were silly, but that some of them had very significant meanings to people, and some were just downright gorgeous! And that inspired me. It inspired me to get my own.

That was 9 years ago. Since that first tattoo (the cliche chinese characters (I know, I know) that say "moon child" something very special to me) I have gotten another just 4 years later (my guardian angel sitting on a crescent moon with my favorite bible verse underneath) and now, I'm looking to get my third. I was watching L.A. Ink when it dawned on me that hubby doesn't have a tattoo sooooooooo...why not get matching tattoos??? Last night I timidly asked him about it, as he is quite conservative, but to my surprise he said "ok, of what?" And now begins the journey to create a tattoo that represents the both of us. I'm so excited, and so happy he didn't hesitate on going on this journey with me.

Now I need ideas. What should the tattoo stem from? It can't be corney, or too big (it is his first afterall) and we've decided to have it in the same location on both of our bodies. Sweet! hmm, wish me luck. I'm off to do some brainstorming!

House wife reformed

Marriage is funny. Being a housewife is funnier.

I never planned to be a housewife. In fact, it was the exact opposite of what I wanted to be. I always thought that I would be able to carry my own, even in a marriage. That's what I wanted. Miss Independent down to the bone. However, after being laid off in November, and my temp job ending just two weeks ago, I found myself at home cooking, cleaning, and job hunting all day. I had no reason to leave the house except for a quick trip to the store to pick up a couple of items to help finish dinner off. In fact, one week I hadn't left the house in so long that my eyes started burning when I finally stepped out to go get a diet coke!

Anyway, I digress. The point of this entry is that...I lost myself. With having nowhere to go, I didn't find it necessary to get "dressed". Sure I would wear a t-shirt around the house, but everything else had gone south. Hair wrapped up in a scarf, aforementioned t-shirt on, dry face (no makeup what-so-ever, not even gloss!), and flip flops. That's what I wore on a daily. Then today I took a look at myself, and saw that I was pathetic! Is it possible that I am the same young lady who was all glamoured up just 6 weeks for my wedding? What happened to that girl?

I felt stuck already. A housewife for two weeks, and I feel stuck. Today I woke myself up and reassured myself that this is not my role. This is not what I'm going to do with my life for the rest of my life. This is just a momentary pit stop until God blesses me with my next gig. In the meantime, I couldn't and cannot let myself fall to pieces.

With that said, I got up, took a shower, and then sat down in front of my makeup kits. I decided I wanted a fun, soft, sweet, candy look, something that would really make J notice, without me looking like I was about to go out for a night on the town. Pinks are my friend. I found all of the pink eyeshadows that I had, pink blush, and pink gloss, and got to work. I was so friggin pink I chuckled to myself, I was having so much fun! Then I let my hair down, put on a down to earth, but cute shirt and some jeans, sprayed some vera wang perfume on my neck and wrists and folded clothes until the husband came home.

I was so happy I did. He kept saying how good I looked, and then, it was a wrap.

That was lesson number one early in this marriage for me. No letting myself go! I'm not saying I'm going to do this every day, but I'm aiming for atleast every other day. J appreciated it, and you know what? So did I! It seriously boosted my confidence, and reminded me who I am. Ain't nothin wrong with that :~)


Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Michael, Thank you for letting me rock with you

I will never forget where I was when I heard that the greatest entertainer ever had suddenly passed away. I was at the Excellence Playa Mujeres resort in Cancun, Mexico with my brand spanking new husband. We had just returned to our room from enjoying the morning in the ocean and pool when I said "welp, let me turn to the news. You know when you go on vacation, the whole world tends to fall apart without you knowing it". Little did I know a very big chunk of my childhood had crumbled. "Michael Jackson Dead at 50" was on the bottom of the cnn screen. "WTF? What do you mean Michael Jackson is dead?? This is a joke right? Where's the body? I want proof, hmph". I turned to other stations and heard about him falling into a coma, and prayed that that's what it really was. He was in a deep sleep, and there was major hope of him coming out. But as the minutes ticked by, every station kept saying those four letters everyone hates to hear - d e a d.

I cried. My husband didn't get it. He loved Michael Jackson too, and was sad, but not ready to shed tears. Well luv, maybe that's because your first concert wasn't Michael Jackson's when you were just 3 years old like mine was. Maybe you were glued to the tv when they showed the making of Thriller, absolutely petrified by that wolf thing he transformed into in the video, yet unable to turn away because you loved Michael so much. Maybe someone playing I Want to Rock With You didn't slap a giddy smile on your face like it did mine. And in later years, as the accusations rolled in, maybe your heart didn't cry for him and the peace he was never going to find.

As strange as it may sound, I never believed the accusations. I heard them, but I never really accepted them in my heart. Not because Michael was an icon, but because they never really seemed to fit. The parents of the kids always seemed really really really money hungry. Seriously, if someone were to molest my future child, I would want serious jail time and money for the counseling my child would have to get, not millions and millions and millions just because. After all, Michael was a big kid himself. I believe that as Michael got older, and further away from childhood, a part of him tried to hold on as best it could. So, he surrounded himself with children. They helped him to try to have that childhood he never had, as an adult. I desperately believe it was innocent. Michael was simply trying to savage a childhood that was taken from him before it even began. Don't get me wrong, sleeping in the bed with young children that were not his own was wrong in and of itself, but I in no way shape or form think that Michael's mind worked the way yours and mine does. I also believe that he was as stubborn as a mule and was determined to recreate his childhood whether or not it looked "right" to you and I. I don't know if the story of one of Michael's accusers coming forward and saying his allegations weren't true, that Michael never touched him, is a true story, but I hope it is. I would love for that piece of dirt to be wiped from Michael's name.

During the first week of his death, I cried for his soul. Did he know Jesus? Did he accept him? I pray. I prayed and prayed and prayed for God to have mercy on Michael's soul. Why be such an awesome humanitarian who suffered personally on Earth, only to suffer afterlife as well. What's the point? I wanted Michael to know that peace that it didn't seem like he ever got to know on Earth, in heaven. I rocked and cried and prayed, rocked and cried and prayed.

However today, today I cried for a whole 'nother reason. Michael Jackson, my Michael Jackson, the Michael of my childhood, is gone. He is truly gone. He will never again breathe the same air that I do. He won't get the chance to prove the media and the critics wrong. I'll never again get to see him perform Rock With You or Dirty Diana. We'll never see that smile again. He's gone.

Today I watched the memorial on cnn via facebook. I needed this tribute to realize this is for real, he's really gone. Like so many on facebook, I was waiting for someone to jump up and say this is a dream, or a really cruel joke, but it's not. As I watched it, I chuckled at myself remembering the time I tried to lean forward like he did in Smooth Criminal and almost broke my nose. If I couldn't do it, I knew it had to be a trick. "It's the shoes! The shoes I tell ya!" That's what I screamed at my mom. Last week she screamed it back at me as she saw on some news program that Michael owned the patent to those shoes with the springs in them. I also lifted an eyebrow remembering how when I got older, I wanted to be Dirty Diana because she was able to get so close to Michael, and he made a rockin song about her. Lucky chick.

All of those memories came flooding back as I watched cnn and I was just stuck. Maya Angelou's poem, the tears in Stevie Wonders voice, Al Sharpton setting them straight, John Mayer killing me softly with that guitar, and Usher breaking down all had me sniffling far more than I care to. However, Paris breaking down and talking about what a wonderful father he was did me in. This is real. This was someones father, brother, son, uncle, etc. It's very real, and very painful for the family I can imagine.

They did a great job. It was definitely a memorial fit for a king, and gave some of us a great sense of closure. I want nothing more right now than for Michael Jackson to be in heavenly peace.

Michael, we loved you, love you, and will always love you. You were the greatest entertainer that ever lived. Today you united all of us in the love we shared for you. Your greatness will never be matched. It's somberly funny that you were afraid that you would be forgotten. You will never be forgotten. You will live in our hearts forever, and we will show our children and our children's children who you were. No matter what, no one can take away your achievements, or the gifts that you gave to this world. Thank you for teaching us to look at the man/woman in the mirror, and to give give give. We love you Michael. May you rest in Heavenly peace.