Whether you believe in reincarnation or not I’m sure there has been a moment in your life when you thought “wow, I would love to come back as _________.” I have on more than one occasion.
I always imagined coming back as an animal, well, because they are just so much better people. Nothing but unconditional love.
I’m thinking something domesticated, nothing that prowls around in the jungle. That life seems a little tense.
Honestly, I’m not into looking over my shoulder on a daily basis because of a big bad co-animal looking for a snack or some bored rich guy looking for a new rug … OH HELL TO THE NO!
Being a bird might be cool, but I’m not a big fan of heights, or a world where clean windows are potential death traps. Although leaving my mark on the windshields of the world while laughing from a nearby tree does sound inviting. Hmm … maybe.
Then I thought perhaps I could be a peacock, a flamingo or one of those other birds that have wings just for show. Everyone admires them for their good looks and pities them for their inability to fly. Hmm, sounds like the Kim K of the bird world … no thanks.
Looks like I’m a house pet kind of girl, however, I want to be placed in a house with someone who loves their pets like I do. Yes, I’m being selective.
Even though I’m deathly allergic to cats, I must say I LOVE their cattitudes. Recently I witnessed a cat walking across a 4 lane road, looking straight ahead as we all screeched, swerved and skidded to avoid killing him. ZERO folks … Z E R O ef’s were given!
He was so badass! He marched up a nearby lawn without even turning to inquire what all the ruckus was about. He already knew people, he already knew.
If I had the pleasure of coming back as a cat, I would insist on being Kate’s cat. Kate, over at Views and Mews, is the Carol Brady of cat moms. She’s purrfect!
I already picked out my parents if I’m lucky enough to come back as a dog. I want gay parents. Like Cam & Mitchel from Modern Family.
I met Richard and Robert when I took Peanut & Landon to the Vet. They were dropping off their daughter dog Bette. I’m 100% certain she is named after Bette Davis.
Bette had luggage including a monogrammed tote that read “The girl that owns this bag has been untouched, she is an original sexy beast.” I was very close to asking if they would consider rescuing a middle-aged woman.
As I sat green with envy, watching Bette sitting next to her tote as if she knew the routine. First the endless kisses. Then the hugs. Next, the reassurance she’ll have a fabulous getaway as she was swept off her paws by the young attendant, and carried to her suite. It was love at first sight for me.
Enjoy the Ride!
At this point in my life, why do I continue to let my Inner Critic rise to the occasion to spew its negativity? Really, it needs to just shut up!
The other day I was stretching at the gym when I noticed this young woman staring at me. For the record, the inner critic loves to come to the gym.
Now, I could have thought that she was admiring my flexibility, but nooooo not when I have the asshole in tow.
Immediately I assumed she was looking at my faults. We all know spandex does not lie. When you wear it at 52, after years of abusing yourself with food and bearing children …. it screams the truth.
We made eye contact, exchanged awkward smiles and moved along. The smile was received as sympathy for my flaws. Without one piece of evidence.
Later in the workout I noticed her looking in my direction …. again! I should have been thinking that perhaps she was looking for a date, but no not with the good ole critic by my side. It was all about body shaming from that one.
I allowed these negative thoughts to grow throughout the workout. I was ridiculously self-conscience the entire time. As if the struggle isn’t hard enough, I had to dodge some extra punches.
After the hour was over and the stretching complete, the young woman sheepishly approaches me. Mind you she was built like an instructor, not a client, so I assumed she was nervous about how she was going to be brutally honest with me. If only negative thoughts burned calories … I would be transparent.
There I stood waiting for the punch. Feeling horrible about everything spandex, everything about the workout and everything about myself. Defeat at its highest power.
This is what went down:
Young Woman: Oh hi I was just wondering where you get your hair cut. I saw you last week and loved your cut and I’m looking for a change.
Me: What did you say? I blamed my shock o the music.
Young Woman: I was just asking where you get your hair cut I love it!
Me: Gave her all the details and made her very happy.
By the time I got to the car I was furious with myself. I could not believe I put my accomplishments in the back seat while this miserable ass drove me to the point of such defeat. My inner critic has a name, and I think it might be Donald, after another ass I know who continuously spews negative energy.
Think about it….
No more trips to the past for me. Been there, done that.
No more beating myself up over my looks.
No more insecurities.
It’s all about moving forward to crush my goals like the badass rockstar from Mars that I know I am! Yes, that is the sound of someone wearing their positive pants.
I’m off to let my fabulous hair blow in the wind while I ….. Enjoy the Ride!
Quote: thejealouscurator.com; Photo: Huffington Post
I’ve heard them all before. My mind screams with thoughts about following my dreams and accomplishing my goals. I hear inspirational stories all of the time that get my blood pumping and compel me to do whatever it is that I always wanted to do. Yet, once that flock of enthusiastic goose bumps fades, I don’t move a muscle.
I’ve watched as the Susan Boyles of the world made it happen. I sat in awe of the double amputee performing in the Olympic games. I listened to the 95-year-old college graduate state “it’s what I’ve always wanted to do.” I remain paralyzed.
My heart swells with emotion over the accomplishments of complete strangers; meanwhile doubts, fear and uncertainty are being pumped into my head preventing me from fulfilling my own. Ah, there really is nothing like curling up with a cozy set of fear & self-doubt.
What’s holding me back? What am I waiting for? What will everyone think? Am I good enough?
Then it happened. An offer I couldn’t refuse. Fate had entered the building and I was presented with an opportunity to pursue one of my long time dreams. Drum roll please…
I am officially a Balloon Handler or as I prefer, Latex Engineer in the
Philadelphia Thanksgiving Day Parade!
What? You thought I would be climbing a freaking mountain? Please! If I’m climbing, it’s onto a barstool. Ok, ok so my dream may not be on the grandiose scale of climbing mountains, but the upside to my shortcomings is…my dream is doable.
If you didn’t already know, the Lorax has been inspiring kids to think and talk about the environment for more than ten years. A match made in heaven, if I do say so myself.
Now, I will admit when I first realized this dream could be a reality, my heart did skip a beat. I didn’t respond immediately because believe it or not, I loathe parades. I know, I know, I know. Just another opportunity for doubt to creep into this over-crowded head. Do I let my dream die over a mere technicality like loathing the venue? Hell no!
As you might imagine, my enthusiasm over this opportunity has been met with mixed reactions. The expression to your right followed by long awkward pauses, high-pitched responses and laughter pretty much sums it up. It was probably due to my OMG! GUESS WHAT I’M GOING TO DO? introduction.
I’ve already attended training not practice TRAINING last week, which was a bit of an eye opener.
A woman in our group, who did not appear to be ruler of the free world, felt the need to answer her cell phone while holding the balloon. As if that wasn’t bad enough, during the “clockwise” “counter-clockwise” session there was lets just say….hesitation. Dear Lord I’m in Mr. Kotter’s class!
praying confident they’ll pull it together on the big day. Feel free to throw a Hail Mary’s this way … just in case.
Since the training, several emails have been sent with additional instructions. One in particular titled ABSOLUTELY NO EARMUFFS!! left me baffled. Confession: The all caps and double explication points had me laughing out loud. It remains a mystery as to why the EARMUFFS are banished from the parade, but if I’m being honest, it makes me want to wear them even more.
Now that we’re getting down to the wire, I received my “BALLOON HANDER JOB DESCRIPTION” it was written exactly as it appears. Let me just say, in case there were any doubts, Latex Engineer will be added to my resume. It’s much more complex than you imagine…trust me.
So while everyone is gathered around the table this Thanksgiving expressing their gratitude for the years bounty, I will be coming down from my high after a stellar performance at the 92nd annual Philadelphia Thanksgiving Day Parade.
Living the dream and Enjoying the Ride!