My precious

My precious

I decided to buy a new journal today. The old one has gotten a bit raggedy. I’ve actually needed a new one for a while. After work I headed to B&N and used the rest of my birthday gift card on a brand new journal. I then proceeded to sit down and write up a storm while listening to A Fine Frenzy on my patio.

My hands are now covered in ink and my mind is a little less cluttered after my furious writting session.  I’m always amazed at how much better I feel after writting down on paper the things I’m too chicken to share here.

Anyway, I need to try to get some sleep. I’ve had a long day.

I love writing. I do. I love being able to get my thoughts out of my head and down on paper or onto a screen.  Anyone who knows me know that I live in my head.  It gets so cramped in there sometimes.  So jotting things down really helps me to focus.  As much as I love this blog and typing, it will never take the place of my journal. My journal has deep thoughts, bad song writing attempts, and the first paragraph of the book I want to write. It has my every day thoughts and feelings. It’s basically a look right into my soul, and it is as guarded as my own heart is.  Maybe one day I’ll trust someone enough to let them read it. Probably not. Lol back to to work I go.

OK, part two…you can actually read this.  This a real post. Kinda.  Let’s face it. I’m just bored as hell and need to get some of my thoughts out of my head.

So the other day I was reading my horoscope, like I will just for shits and giggles.  I was talking to my friend about it and telling her how I didn’t think I had a lot of the traits that an Aquarius is supposed to possess.  To which my friend replies “Maggie, you are such an Aquarius.”  I’m not so sure about that so let’s take a look and see.  Google here I come!

Here we go.  According to zodiac-signs-astrology.com an Aquarius is…

Aquarius strength keywords

  • Witty … Duh!
  • Clever … of course!
  • Humanitarian … I’m a people person
  • Inventive … I have GREAT ideas!
  • Original … Ain’t no one like me baby

OK, I can get with that.  Yes, I’m all of those things.  Let’s move on to the weaknesses.

Aquarius weakness keywords

  • Stubborn … uhhhh isn’t everyone?
  • Unemotional … (this isn’t true)
  • Sarcastic … who, me?
  • Rebellious … um, yeah I guess.
  • Aloof … it completely depends!

OK so here we go with the meat of it all.  Apparently Aquarius’s, Aquari? Lol  Anyway, my people and I are independent and “any attempt to hold them down or restrict them will cause them to flee…independence is not just desired, it is essential to their wellbeing.”  Um.  Kinda.  I guess.  I mean I love my alone time and I like that I can take care of myself, but I’m not scared of getting tied down, ya know?

Ok this part I can get with.  “They love to make people laugh and cheer people up and it makes them feel good to make others feel good. They are very unconventional and always make life fun.  They might offer you a spontaneous last minute camping trip with no supplies prepared.  If you decide to go along, you will have a weekend to remember forever!”  OK, now that I’ve actually done.  J  I think it’s closing in on time for another random camping trip.  Who wants to come with?!

I also agree with this part.  “Despite their stubbornness and fixed opinion, they will never impose their ideas on others; they have respect for everybody’s differences.”  Yup.

Well, well now.  I completely agree with this as well.   “She is funny, smart, adventurous, never clingy, or jealous.  Anything goes with this woman and any man she chooses will have an amazing relationship.”  Hehehe “Court her and woo her, she expects this ladylike treatment, she is old fashioned in that sense.”  Damn right.  Woo me.  WOOOOO me.  I love that phrase.

Well how the hell about that?  Summer was right.

Seriously, this may be all over the place so you can stop reading now.  Too many things floating around in my head right now.

Just who the hell do you think you are?  That’s a question I’ve been asked multiple times throughout my life.  It’s a question I’ve asked myself too many times to count. It’s also a question I’ve been trying to answer for the past few years.  I think I finally have an answer.  That is, after all, what this blog was supposed to be about.  So let’s take this one small part at a time.  I am someone who loves MUSIC.  Sweet… glorious… music.

Music is such a huge part of my life and who I am.  I don’t know about anyone else but my earliest memories are filled with music.  I have parents who love music, and music seemed to always be on in my house.  I can’t clean my house, put on my makeup, do laundry, hell even type this without music.  I have my mom to thank for that.

I probably has the most diverse taste in music.  I love it all, and I’m not one of those people who say they like all types of music.  I mean I probably know some part of almost any song on any station in any genre of music.  Oldies? Yup.  Rock? Yup.  Classic rock?  Yup.  Country? Yup.  Rap? Yup.  R&B/Hip Hop.  Yup/yup.   50’s. 60’s, 70’s, 80’s?  Yes, yes, yes, and yes.  I love it all.

Some of my earliest memories are of my family and me driving from some part of the south we were currently living in back to Memphis.  When my sisters and I were younger we were subjected to whatever music my parents wanted to listen to. I’m so thankful for that now, though I hated it at the time.  I wanted to listen to New Kids on the Block, not Mo-town, The Eagles, and CCR.  I remember one time, my sisters got to stay home with dad, and I was with my mom and Aunt Martha.  We were listening to a Gladys Knight and the Pips cassette.  YEAHHH a cassette baby!  I knew every song.  I sat in the back, staring out the winder singing my little 9 year old heart out.  I also remember Aunt Martha telling me to give Gladys a change to sing, since she did it so well.  I can’t imagine my Aunt Martha saying that now.

See, I love to sing.  LOVE it. I sing all the time or as much as I can. I’m actually pretty good at it, depending on the genre.  It’s taken a very long time for me to be able to sing in front of people.  It started off with me singing in the car while my mom drove.  Even then it was always soft and probably way off key.  Then at some point, probably immediately after turning 16 and driving around as much as I could, even though dad specifically said “no joyrides” I started singing louder and gained a little confidence.  Who knew I could actually sing a little?  Now it’s hard to get me to shut up.

Not only do I like to sing, but I like to play music too.  At the age of 16 I asked my mom for, wait for it, a violin.  I had previously taken piano lessons.  I had picked out a song or two by ear and mom signed me up for classes.  I hated piano lessons.  Then I signed up for violin in the orchestra class in 6th grade.  I was ok….not great, but I really liked it.  So when I asked for a violin my mother, in her infinite wisdom, bought me a guitar.  Ha! I gladly took it even though I had no idea how to play.  Off to the awesome, kick ass, dial up AOL internet I went to teach myself to play the guitar.  I started out with the easy stuff.  You know, G, C, D.  Basically almost ever Eagles song out there.  Good thing I love The Eagles.  I remember my mom hearing me practice and asking me to come out on the patio and play for her.  So, for the first time intentionally, I played my guitar and sang, out loud, for someone other than myself.  I sang “Take it Easy” and “Peaceful Easy Feeling” for my mother.  She told me I was good.  That meant the world to me.  I still play my guitar every once in a while but the older I get the less I play.  I can pick out a tune, but I am by no means a real guitar player.  I know enough to impress someone who can’t play.  J  I wish I had been brave enough to actually do something with what little talent I was given.

As I sit here, mind swirling in ADD bliss, I keep thinking about how a friend recently told me I was the epitome of an Aquarius.  That took me a bit by surprise.  Sure, I’ll read my horoscope, see what the stars have in line for me, but I’ve never really taken them all that seriously.  Kinda.   So I looked it up… and that is the start of the twofer of todays blog posts.

I really should be working right now.  Writing is writing but this isnt about liability arguments. This is more of a post to remind me to post something real later.  Lots of things floating around in my head that I want to get down, but for now I’ll leave you with this.

image

I was recently reminded of this blog and have since remembered how much I used to enjoy writing. So let’s begin this journey again, shall we? So much has happened in the past two years I don’t even know where to begin.

Let see, how about the sad news first. My cousin Al passed away two days after my birthday. I’m still kind of in disbelief over that. I wouldn’t say we were close but I loved the guy and I know he loved me and if I ever really needed him he would have been there for me. Al had a hard road through this life but boy did he live. Have you ever heard a song at the perfect time that just made you lose it? That happened to me as I was driving back to Memphis for his funeral. On the way home that One Republic song “I Lived” came on. I pretty much immediately burst into tears when I heard it. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard a song that completely encompassed one person’s outlook on life.
I, I did it all
I, I did it all
I owned every second
That this world could give
I saw so many places
The things that I did
With every broken bone
I swear I lived
No kidding, Aloe. With every broken bone you absolutely lived. Through good and bad times you lived and laughed. It breaks my heart that I will never hear your laughter again in this life. You had the best laugh I’ve ever heard. I’ll miss and you cousin.

OK enough of the sad. How about we move on to the idiotic? In this case that would be me. Here’s the thing. After what, 2 years, Maggie decided that it was time for her to start that horrible experience we call “dating” again. Sigh… Let’s just start off with me admitting that I SUCK AT DATING. I mean it. I’m no good at it, terrible in fact. I don’t know how to do it.  Every relationship I’ve ever been in began fast and was hard and passionate and fierce. I didn’t ever really date.  I was just kinda IN a relationship.  Those relationships also all crashed and burned, hard. So I’ve learned that quick and fast isn’t good. What I’m learning now is how to approach a relationship as one should. Slow and steady and to just let it evolve.  I’m beginning to learn how to do that. You see I’ve grown a lot from the last experience.  I’ve learned that I need to be myself, idiotic episodes and all.  I no longer have a problem being myself.  I love myself.  I’m a pretty kick ass chick.  I can be a little much at times, I know this.  I can be loud and moody and very outspoken. At the same time I can be reserved, calm and quiet when I need to be.  I do have to be honest that I prefer happy go lucky Maggie.  She’s a lot of fun. She’s also a lot more self confident than the old Maggie was.  I know who I am, I’m happy with it, I just need to find a man who likes me as much as I do.  :)

And that is where this really begins.  Dating.

Here is my biggest problem with dating. The game.  Good Lord the game.  WHY MUST WE PLAY GAMES??? Every single person I know complains about “the game” and asks “Why do we have to play the game?” Then they’ll say something like “oh, but you have to play the game.” For the love of all that is good and holy WHY? WHY do we have to play the game? Why can’t it ever be something as simple as “Hey, I kinda like you and would like to hang out a little and see if we’re a good fit. What do you say?” Why are there these unwritten rules that we have to follow?

My current favorite rule is the “you have to wait at least 5 minutes before you respond to a text message” rule. Oh sweet Lord, really? Why? People’s phones are all but glued to their hands in this day and age. I know mine is. I always have my phone on me and while I may not be using it all the time, it’s there within arm’s length. So when I get a text from ANYBODY, I’m always quick to reply. Why then when I get a text from a guy I’m interested in, do I have to wait 3-5 minutes before texting back? It’s silly and honestly unnecessary. Hell, you’d think that if a guy got a response about a minute after sending a text, that he’d be happy and know the girl was interested.  But no, apparently that makes us needy and too available. Why is it a bad thing to show interest? The quick text reply is as close to an actual phone call as we’re gonna get these days. No one talks on the phone and instead we all text. Texting is ruining dating. We’re supposed to talk, not type. How stupid would we sound if we were speaking to each other and the guy asked a question and then waited for 3-5 minutes for the woman to verbally respond? He’d think she’s a moron! So why then is it the exact opposite when it comes to texting? Respond too soon and OH, she’s needy.

Here’s another thing.  I’ve been asked if it would bother me if a guy I was talking to was talking to other women.  I have a yes and no answer to that.  In the beginning when you’re tying to figure out if you want to spend more time with the other person, NO, I don’t have a problem with that.  Go out with other girls.  Have fun.  Find the right person for you.  Hell, I do it.  I’ve come really close to marrying the wrong person.  I don’t want to do that.  I want a marriage like my parents.  They’ve been married for 46 years.  Those kind of marriages are hard to find.  So I want any man I end up with to be certain that I’m the girl for him, and I want to be certain that he’s the guy for me.  You do that by testing the waters with a couple of people.  So no, I have no issue with being one of a few girls a guy is “dating”.  I do have a problem with being one of a few after a relationship has begun, but I’ve talked about that over and over again on this site.  I’m not gonna talk about it anymore.

I honestly think my straight forward way of thinking is going to keep me from ever having another serious relationship again. I’m just too old and too tired of all the games to actually play them. I’d like to meet a guy that’s perfect for me and understands that I can be a little too trapped in my own head sometimes. I’ve recently been talking to a guy. Let me tell ya, I’ve basically done everything I can to scare this guy off. I might have actually succeeded. Yaaaaa (please note the sarcasm.) If I haven’t completely scared him away yet, this post should do it. Ha. I’m pretty sure I’ve put off a “I drink too much” vibe.  Lord, if he only knew the honest to God’s truth.  I will give him this, for some reason, I have no idea why, Maggie has decided to drink a lot. This isn’t typical behavior for me. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy my beer and wine, but I’ve never really been one to drink on a regular basis. I’ve always been one to drink when I’m out with friends but never really at home. Until recently. So I’ve been having a glass of wine when I get home after work.  Works been really stressful lately and honestly, the wine has relaxed me.  So I get home and crack open a bottle of wine.  The next thing I know, all of the stupid rules start swirling around in my head.  Then my own thoughts on the stupid rules get mixed in and then I start texting. Ugh. Breaking rule number one. I get myself in trouble when texting. See, this guy doesn’t KNOW me. He doesn’t KNOW that I’m not a raging alcoholic and that I’m actually pretty cool and laid back. He’s seeing crazy Maggie. WHY DOES THAT COME OUT?

I was just reminded by one of my best friends that I am the holy grail. I’m 35, never married, no kids (amen), have my own house, a car and a great job. I’m not looking for a sugar daddy to take care of me and my 3 kids from 3 different baby daddies. Don’t get me wrong, I’d like to end up with a guy who is able to provide for me and take care of me and who is willing to be a man. I’m a believer that there are specific roles for men and women in relationships.  I don’t mind helping bring home the bacon, but I want a man who wants to be the man of the relationship.  He’s supposed to be the problem solver, the one who fixes.  I’m supposed to be the nurturer.  Let me soothe and comfort.  You fix the problems.  There is a natural balance to relationships and I really think that women may age get accustomed to having to fill both roles that they don’t know how to take a back seat and let the man do for them.  Wow, this got really off topic didn’t it?

ANYWAY, I hate dating.  Hate it.  I just really hope that I can find a guy who understands I can be a little neurotic at times but I’m always able to reign it back in.  I want to find a guy who balances me and that I balance in return.  A partnership built on friendship, respect and love.  It really shouldn’t be so hard.  So, for any potential dude out there.  If you text me, and I text you back pretty quickly, please know that I’m not needy, I just respect your time, like you at least a little bit, and felt like texting you back then instead of waiting 3-5 minutes.  :)

 

 

 

My goodness its been forever since I’ve written anything.  SO much to tell.  Where to start.  First of all I’m really excited about how I’m typing this write now.  My awesome dad gave me a wireless apple keyboard for Christmas.  I didn’t even ask for it.  My even awesomer sister told him how much I wanted one and the keyboard became that great present that you open that you never asked for and never expected and but you got anyway and it made you think that Santa really is real.  So MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ME!  

This Christmas has been the best so far. Things between my oldest sister and I have never been better.  We have spent a lot of time together shopping, eating, drinking,  and just having a blast.  Thats been the best present.  Then mom and dad got here and added to the already large number of gifts under the tree.  I haven’t had a Christmas like this since I was a little girl.  

I’m gonna have to stop writing now.  It’s time to shower and put on new clothes and get back to the sisters house to take the boys to see a movie.  Life is so good.  :)

So I’ve noticed that my most popular post is the one about my amazing ass. LOL bum lookers! 

On a serious note I really need to write about my awesome cruise.  The 21 year old hottie I spent my time with and the weekend in Panama City Beach.  Post on those to come soon. :). Until later my lovelies!

Are you there God?  It’s me, Margaret.

My goodness, where to begin?  So much is going on and could be going on.  It is going to be one crazy summer I’ll tell you that much.

Let’s start with the good, wonderful, fantastic news. My leg is 95% better!  That’s right.  I’m almost back to 100%.  I was so very worried about this damn leg and my cruise but no more!  My awesome and pretty cute doctor gave me some water poof bandages that I only have to change every 3 days so NO ACE BANDAGES ON THE CRUISE!!!  I could not be more excited about this.  I’m going to have the BEST time and there is no one I’d rather be on a big ass ship that let’s face it, could quite possibly breakdown in the middle of the Caribbean, with.  That person is my best friend, my mother.  I’m dubbing the trip the Happy Mother’s Day/I’m not married to the cheating asshole cruise!  Mom is pretty damn excited too. We got a free upgrade to a balcony room.  That’ll be nice if the ship breaks down and we are stuck on Shit Ship 2.o.  Mom is bringing air freshener and a flash light just in case.  The next two weeks CANNOT go by fast enough.  I’m also pretty damn excited because Maggie May has lost a total of 25 pounds.  That’s right.  All of the steroid weight is GONE!  So me!

How the hell did I talk about the doctor’s visit and NOT mention what I saw on my way home from that? Bad Maggie.  BAD! OK.  (In my best Sophia Patrillo voice) Picture it.  Downtown Birmingham.  A cloudy Monday afternoon.  There I am, in my car talking to my dad on my cell.  I missed my turn.  Don’t ask me how.  I’ve been there so many times now that I could drive this in my sleep.  Well, obviously not since I missed my turn.  So I missed my turn and had to get back to University.  Anyone who has driven in downtown Birmingham knows that it’s a labyrinth of one way streets.  Maggie and one way streets do not mix well. I have a tendency to drive the wrong way, but that’s another story.  So I make it back to University and am stopped at a red light, still talking to my dad.  If you know me, you know I don’t cuss in front of my parents. (It’s the southerner in me).  The conversation went a little like this. “So the doctor was really happy about what my leg is looking like and he said holy shit a banana just drove by me.”  My dad, taken a bit back, asked if I smuggled any drugs out of the hospital.  Then I had to explain that a BANANA literally drove past me.  Too bad I was on the phone or I’d have taken a picture of it.  It was a large banana, about the size of a Ford Excursion, and had four people in it lined up in a single row.  HILARIOUS!  I doubt I’ll ever see it again.  It’s like Bigfoot, only it’s a banana and there are no molds of its footprints, because it doesn’t have feet. Cause it’s a banana…

What else.  Sad news here.  My very best friend, other than my mom, is leaving me and moving to Atlanta.  I’m insanely happy and excited for her but so damn sad I’m not going to see her every day. One of the things I am gonna miss the most is having here there to make fun of me.  Like when I told her about the banana car.  Or when I told her about the eagle that was in my back yard. An EAGLE yall. I swear it was an eagle.  It could have carried my Swarley away. And then there was today. When she told me my nail polish was opaque and I informed her it was not opaque as it was translucent.  Yes, I was wrong.  I found out I was wrong when I looked it up at lunch and saw definition #1, not translucent.  Yes, I’m a bit of a dumbass at times.  Who is gonna appreciate that on a day to day basis? Sad Maggie.

On a related note, I too have applied for a job in the ATL.  I had an interview two weeks ago that went very well in my opinion.  I’m really excited about the idea of moving to Atlanta.  Atlanta reminds me of home.  It’s like Memphis, but bigger, and more redneck.  I really need a change.  I’ve been in the ham for 9 years now.  I love my job and I love my friends here but there are too many bad bad bad bad memories here.  Too many bad and yes, good memories in my house.  Which brings me to the next thing.

Him.  Please don’t get me wrong on this.  There is no part of me what wants any part of him.  Believe that but dear sweet baby Jesus will I ever not think about him? It seems like every few months he pops into my head.  I’ve done so well.  Hell I don’t even have or know his phone number anymore. Which is a good thing!  Never thought that would happen.  But damn if he isn’t everywhere.  I think about him while I’m getting ready for work.  I think about him as I drive to work and desperately try to keep myself from looking for his car.  I’m fine at work until I hear a song that reminds me of him.   Hell that happened today.  I heard what was supposed to be our first dance song.  Then Sister Hazel came on, then Van Morrison.  UGH.  I hate that music was such a big part of our relationship since. Music has always been my escape and now I feel I have none.  Then there is the drive home.  You guessed it.  Looking for his car.  Most days I’m about to not think about him at all.  Those are the good days.  It’s the days like today that are the bad ones.  The days I have to put down my hair dryer, look in the mirror and remind myself I don’t love him anymore and that I could never trust him or be happy with him.  If it weren’t for the good memories I don’t think I’d have a problem.  The other day I was filling up the dog’s water bowl.  I spilled water all over myself because I forgot to put the filter cap back on it and when I turned it right side up, swoosh!  Water everywhere.  I was immediately reminded of the water fight I had with him and his son.  Little dude thought a water gun would bring me down.  LOL the spray hose of the kitchen sink proved him wrong.  That’s a good memory.   There’s the memory Sister Hazel always brings up.  Him almost falling over and then asking me to marry him.  I really wish I could forget that one.  There are the memories I have of him doing his stupid little dances all over the place. Him leaving cabinet doors open.  His hand on the small of my back in the grocery store.  Him being there for me when my grandmother died. Me missing him like crazy when he’d spend a week in DC and him coming home and the love I felt radiate off of him when he came home.  Then there is the memory of him begging me to take him back. Him telling me he was wrong and that I was the only one for him.  The only woman he would ever love and how if he didn’t marry me he would never get married.  Meeting him at the Mexican restaurant and seeing him with flowers.  Me not wanting to be there but going anyway.  Him telling me that I could take as long as I wanted or needed and that he was never going to give up until he had me back.  Him telling me that he was ready to ask my father again to marry me.  He echoed words I had said to him when we first met, “You’re never getting rid of me.”

It’s those words that haunt me and scare me.  I’m afraid that they are true, somewhat.  See, I don’t have him anymore.  Hell I don’t want him.  But I’m terrified that his memory will always haunt me.  That some part of me will always love him.  After all, when you love someone when your entire heart, with your entire being, and they break your heart and then beg you back and once again you give all of yourself to them and they smash you again, do you ever put your entire heart, your entire self back together?  That’s one HELL of a run on sentence.  I don’t think you do.  Dammit I really don’t think you do.  I’ve wondered very recently, and I think it’s because of all of the changes happened and that could happen, what would you do if he came back again? What would I say?  I’m sure kiss my ass and leave me alone would be some of the things.  But would I hesitate?  Would I consider?  What if he came back the same way, promising the world and all the jewels in the Nile?  What if I made him work for it a lot longer?  Would I take him back?  I’ll tell you one thing.  If that annulment hadn’t gone through the answer would be an immediate HELL NO.

Now don’t get me wrong.  I’m not all weepy and saw over him anymore.  But I sure do wonder why I still have these thoughts.  I’ve head heartbreak before.  I’ve had ex-boyfriends I’ve thought of over the years.  But I’ve managed to get over them pretty quickly.  I guess having a broken engagement takes more time. That a fiancé is more difficult to get over.  I just really hope that I get this job in Atlanta.  It’d help me out a lot to not have constant reminders of him and what should have been.

I’ll tell ya.  The one thing that keeps running through my mind more often than I would like is why the hell did he come back?  Why break our engagement only to come back and say you were wrong and that you wanted us? That’s really the toughest part.  I wish I could forget February of 2012 to August of 2012.  If I could have those months erased from my mind I’d be much more at peace with it all.  After all, I’m the one who left him in December 2011.  He just had to take that from me.  Couldn’t let me be the one to end it.  I’ve also wondered if the only reason I took him back was to be “the winner.”  To be the woman he chose.  HA!  I’ve since learned that I AM the winner.  I don’t have to spend the rest of my life wondering if the man I love is cheating on me.  There is peace in that.

The one thing I’m not proud of is all of the hateful things I’ve said and thought.  I’m not a hateful person.  I don’t like that the situation brought me to say things I’ve regretted, however true they may be.  The thing I’m proud of is that I’m me again.  I’m happy.  I’m go-lucky.  Tee hee.  I go out.  I do things again.  Ya know. Every once in a while he would ask me where the old Maggie was and that he missed the old Maggie.  The Maggie he fell in love with.  You know, the Maggie he cheated on.  That Maggie got mentally beaten down and was made to not love herself.  Jokes on him.  The old Maggie came back as soon as he left.  I had missed the old Maggie too, but I like this new Maggie better.  She’s older, wiser, a hell of a lot of fun, and hotter than the old Maggie.  Seriously, the jokes on him.

Well that was a nice trip down memory lane.  I think I’ll pour myself a bottle of wine.  Play some sappy music and cry my last tears for the man that would have made me Maggie Goodman.  I like Maggie Mulrooney a hell of a lot better. It’s gonna take one hell of a man to get me to change my last name.  I’m looking at you at Ryan Gosling.

 

P.S.  Keep on reading.  Its about to get a whole lot better. You know who you are.

The thing about him…. its like she has lived what I’ve lived. Follow this blog y’all. :)

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