Words to ponder…

You can tell when you’re on the right road because it’s generally all up hill.

The Eternal Crush…

My life is back to normal today…I’ve been having that kind of week when you want to add just 30 more minutes to each day. And it seems like you can’t quite get to everything on your MUST do today list. Anyway let me get to this so I can scratch this off my list for today…

I went to get my car washed first thing this morning. I don’t know why I decided that it needed to be washed today. I haven’t washed my car in months, but today I desired it to be so fresh and so clean. I roll into the car wash thinking there would be no line and no wait but obviously first thing in the morning is when others think to wash their cars too.

I wait in line and clean out the inside of my car. I’m stretched over the seats picking up programs and shoes and miscellaneous papers and hangers and restaurant coupons and party flyers and business cards. I don’t have any children, but you couldn’t tell only one person rides in my car by looking inside it. I decide to get out the car to throw my nice little ball of trash away and put some other things in the trunk. I toss the trash, but turn around because I feel someone looking at me. I see what looks to be probably my number 3 crush in life. I immediately duck into my trunk. I wonder if it’s him or if I am imagining things. The last time I saw him we flirted something serious, but then he admitted he had a girl so I backed off. I don’t like encroaching on other’s territory because I believe in Karma. I am also severely unsatisfied with my choice of apparel. I’m definitely looking heck-hell-tic. I really need to start acting like a grown up and heed my aunt’s advice, “Look fabulous if you leave the house.” D@mn D@mn D@mn why can’t I follow directions! There are about 8 cars ahead of me and I’m thinking if I slow down he’ll be gone before I even get to the lobby to wait for my car. I close my trunk and look over to see if he is still there. Nope, he is gone.

As soon as I realize the coast is clear, I internally slap myself for panicking and being ashamed of how I am dressed. First it might not have been him. I then give myself the get a grip girl lecture along the lines of it’s not that serious, why are you acting all pressed, and don’t you have someone you are very interested in anyway, who cares that he saw you with a scarf on your head and a jogging suit, you’re cute anyway. Despite the lecture,  I decide to put my shades on to give myself a purposeful bohemian Hollywood look (is that even really possible outside of Hollywood? and what is bohemian about a jogging suit?), but it’s the look I’m going for and I pump myself up sufficiently enough to saunter inside like I have on heels and a dress.

I hand my ticket to the lady at the counter. I hear my name right behind me. I slowly turn around. It’s him. I grin slightly, but smile internally.

“Hey Ursala!”

“Hello [Mr. 3rd Crush].” He leans in and gives me a great big bear hug.

“I can’t believe I ran into you here of all places. I thought about you last week. I wanted to call you, but I don’t have your number.”


“But I headed out of town and I’m just getting back, that’s actually why I’m here. I parked my car at a lot and it was filthy when I found it.”


“But good thing I like to keep my car clean, otherwise I wouldn’t have ran into you.”


“You look great by the way!” I know he is soo lying stretching the truth but I play along with it.


“It’s funny how we are always running into one another, but never purposefully.”


“So what’ve you been up to?”

Now mind you this whole time he is still “holding” me. After he bear hugged me, he kept one arm wrapped around my shoulder. He then proceeded to give the cashier money for my ticket and then steered me away from the counter. I am of course a little flustered because I have always and still do find him overwhelmingly sexy. At that moment he is too close to me for me to form coherent whole sentences. I’m going to need some space for that. I lean away from him so I can try to answer his question and this dude goes and plants a kiss right on my forehead. WTH!?!

“You’re so cute.”

I’m still stunned internally, but I try to recover externally. I turn my lean away into a whole step back. I am now a good foot away, but I decide to step back one more foot just to be sure I can speak safely without the threat of swooning or any more forehead kissing.

“I am well.”

This was all he really allowed me to add to the conversation. He’s car was up and he asked me for my number. I declined. I’ve got some pots bubbling on the stove and I want to focus on them. Don’t need to add any new cold pots to the burners. He said ok told me it was really good to see me and left.

After he was inside his car I thought dang I could’ve asked for HIS number just in case things don’t work out for me. I hate that I don’t think on my toes (can that be learned or is that just inate?) But maybe there are people you are never meant to talk to or explore anything with. The timing is always bad. Either they are engaged or you are in a relationship or they just came out of a long term relationship or you are a sentence away from being in a relationship, etc. I don’t think we will ever get an opportunity to talk. I think whatever opportunity we may have had passed in grade school. I can’t say that I don’t know him, but I don’t know him in the I’m trying to get to know you because I want to be your girl sense. Plus EVERY time I run into him, either he or I have something else going on. Due to circumstances and or timing I guess he will eternally be a crush, nothing more, nothing less. Just someone I desire, flirt with, and think about from time to time.

Product Review – No! No! Hair Removal System

Oooooh I didn’t successfully post yesterday : x

I think information (or knowledge) is power. I also think that it is important to share your triumphs and trails with products with everyone. There are SOOOO many products on the market, and during recessionary times you need to be certain, now more than ever, that you are purchasing a quality product. So I am sharing information today.

Let it be known that I am a sucker for good marketing. I often try new things even though I am perfectly fine with the product I use.  I must admit I am often overwhelmed with the number of  products I am bombarded with in magazines and on tv, but I do my part to stimulate the economy by purchasing new and or imporved products. There are certain items I will always try these include new mascaras, face creams and products that promise to reduce or remove hair.

Today, along with a product review, I am going to share with you a dirty little secret about me. I have a stubborn little problem. I have an intense ongoing struggle/battle with my HAIR. Specifically the hair on my stomach…in the happy trail region. I am very self conscious about it. Over the years I have done many things to this area of my body. I have shaved, waxed, naired, threaded, plucked and I have even suffered through electrolysis. The electrolysis treatments were by far the most PAINFUL thing I have ever intentionally done to  my body. I used the emla cream that the dermatologist prescribed me, but that didn’t help the burning/stinging sensation. It was horrible and after 5 treatments I just couldn’t bare the pain. I have thought about laser treatments, but the electrolysis tramautized me so I’ve not seriously considered it. Despite my fear of hair removal procedures that use lasers, lights, beams or rays of any sort I saw the No! No! Hair Removal System (another dirty secret I buy stuff off of tv) on tv and had to have it. It uses some type of thermo-something technology and promised NO PAIN. I decided to go for a shiny pink one and couldn’t wait for it to arrive.

I got it. I used it. I want to let you know that the No! No! does not work. The product does not claim to remove hair forever, but does claim to slow growth and reduce hair density. I interpreted that to mean that I would have finer, sparser hair growth. The idea of finer and or sparser hair growth excited me. The No! No! does neither of these two claims.

You are supposed to glide it over the area of your body you want to reduce hair growth and voila it’s smooth and hair free. At least on the models on tv it was. I repeatedly passed the unit over my belly over a 3 x 4 inch area and it never became smooth. I believe the unit simply singes your hair. Then after the hair is singed you use this little buffer similar to that hair away product and I guess this is supposed to smooth everything.  It does not. There is also a horrible smell associated with the singed hair. I would tolerate the smell, but my skin was never smooth. There was visible stubble throughout the entire region, but I don’t think the way the unit functions it’s possible for the skin to be completely smooth. The little wire that singes the hair doesn’t get close enough to the skin, which is probably why there is no pain. Each time I have used it, I’ve shaved afterwards. This wouldn’t be a big deal because I sometimes shave after nairing, but I have seen no reduction in my hair density or growth. Plus after all those passes it never leaves a smooth surface. Bottom line it’s an extreme waste of time and the smell is TERRIBLE. At $250 this product is a dud and I would advise you not to purchase it.

On thursday fate intervened…

The events that sealed my fate…

I receive a text from Mr. Mean. I am torn about whether or not I should reply. I tell myself I don’t like him so why lead him on.

My mother calls me on Thursday and says she’s  in the neighborhood and stopping by. I’ve noticed that she has started a texting/calling campaign for me to go to church with her on Thursday night (as if my attendance on Sunday is not enough), but I’ve declined or given her some excuse each time. It’s much easier to put a Mother off on the phone or by text…much harder to do it in person. So I end up going to church with her.

I walk into the lobby of the church and immediately see Mr. Mean. He smiles and walks over. I decide that he is smiling at my Mother since she is “squealing” his name. They exchange hello’s. Then my Mother introduces us. She winks at me and walks away.

Mr. Mean knows I got his text, but doesn’t mention it.

Mr. Mean formally asks me out on a date.

I say yes.

We are going out on Saturday.

Waiting for his call…continued

I am not happy today. I’m in a mood, maybe not a bad mood, but definitely a mood. I’ll just say I’m moody. He hasn’t called. What is he waiting on?

Waiting by the phone…

I’m having computer techincal issues today that will postpone posting. Sucks.

Okay here it is.

So of course all today I have been waiting for THE call from Mr. Mean. It’s like I’m 15 and waiting for some boy I have a crush on to call me. I’m all anxious and stuff. I know I know I should not be concerned. I mean didn’t he tell me off? Told me I complained about the lack of good men and told me I was mean. Please note that I do not complain about the lack of good men in my eyes good men are plentiful. But I DO complain about the situations, encounters, incidents and misunderstandings I have with men. I was offended when he called me mean. I felt like he was more than a little rough with me. He didn’t know me. I felt he was taking out his frustrations of being rejected by yet another woman on me. Plus he raised his voice at me. Oh and he embarrassed me in front of complete strangers while I was at church. All of this was a problem and is a problem. It is why I saw him and attempted to act like we had never met before. It is why I leaped over the lap of a teenage man child to keep from having to interact with him after the service let out. I have a problem with him. I do not like him.

Despite my disdain for him I must admit I have been waiting for his call. I didn’t expect him to call on Sunday, but I did expect him to call today, Monday.  I believe that it’s important for new suitors to establish their interest within 24 hours of getting the digits. It shows me they are serious, interested and not trying to be cute and coy. However, since I didn’t give him my number I don’t think this rule applies. I am not sure what rule applies. All I know is that I am actually getting upset that he hasn’t called. At first I knew exactly what I was going to say, but now since he hasn’t called and I am perplexed, I am not sure what I am going to say. Or if I will even have an opportunity. What if he doesn’t call? I don’t know if I am prepared for this type of rejection. I know I rejected him first, but I don’t want to be rejected.

Why do I even care? Especially since I don’t like him. Because I know that he likes me or is at least a little interested. It’s simple now that he doesn’t seem to want me it makes me desire him. Crazy! I know. Maybe our last encounter completely turned him off. Which on one hand is good, but on the other hand now I want to prove to him that I’m actually pretty swell. Now that he hasn’t called I’m wondering what’s up. Note to self: Tell Mother never to give my number out without my express permission.

What’s funny is that I have now convinced myself that some other pretty boy did indeed have on a similar suit, with a name oddly similar to Mr. Mean’s, met my mother, got my number and is not calling because they took my number out of pity from my Mother who probably was peddling her daughter off as some fantastical woman something akin to a sparkly, rainbow-hued unicorn. Meaning he didn’t believe her because we all know unicorns don’t exist. So it’s ok or this is what I’m telling myself. Serves me right for being ugly to him at church, of all places.

It’s Sunday…

and I went to church. That’s what I’ve been up to this summer on Sundays. I go to church. It makes my mother so happy. I generally meet up with her after the service. When she sees me she just beams, and when she sees someone she knows she always introduces me as her daughter followed up with a great big smile. It’s funny her apparent happiness propels me to church now even if I don’t want to go.  

What’s better is that I actually got to church on time. So I wasn’t relegated to the rafters. I am very content to sit in the rafters because there is a lot more space. When you are seated on the bottom (or I should say on the sanctuary floor) they don’t like to leave the customary seat between each person. It’s like the movies when it’s opening night for a block buster they pack you in and there is a body in every seat. When I arrived I was directed to a partially empty aisle and told to go all the way down to the end. I made my way down the aisle and put my bag in the seat next to a very large teenage boy man. He was taken up a good one third of the seat that I sat my bag in. Side caveat: He really was taking up way more space then he needed to. I know that guys need space for the banana and berries, but my word there should be limits to how wide they can sit. They should square up with their shoulders or something there’s got to be a consistent way to bring order to the ridiculousness. Before I could sit down, an usher that I didn’t see quickly came over and asked me to move down a seat and hold my bag in my lap. Dang! He caught me. I picked my bag up and moved over as best I could into two thirds of my seat. I situated my bag in my lap and when I look up who do I see walking down the aisle? None other than Mr. Mean.

This is actually funny because I go to a rather large church, it is considered a mega church by some standards. While my church is large, it’s obviously not large enough to keep me from running into Mr. Mean again. I thought maybe he doesn’t recognize me so I immediately turned back to the pulpit. When he sat down he leaned over and said “I guess the Lord decided that our paths should cross again.” To my chagrin he remembered me. I didn’t respond I kept my eyes straight ahead. Then he said “I guess we are on the same schedule.” Again I didn’t respond. He leaned back over “You look very nice today.” To this I nodded (I know how to take a compliment), but kept my eyes straight ahead. Then he said “I’m still holding a brunch rain check just for you. What are you doing after church?” I leaned over and said “Thank you, but I won’t be using that rain check today or any other day.” I was actually expecting something harsh from him, but he said “I apologize. I hope you aren’t holding what I said before against me.” My response to this was a “ShhhHhhHhhhHhhhhush!” I then turned away from him, crossed my legs and attempted to find a space for my foot between the large leg of the teenage man and the seats in front of us. Despite my unreceptive body language, he was not the least bit concerned because he whispered in my ear “You need to forgive me so we can move on.” I inched closer to the teenage man, which caused him to turn and look at me. I just smiled and nestled myself behind his large arm and our shared portion of my seat.

Mr. Mean continued whispering every once and a while throughout the sermon things such as, “Your hair smells good, your shoes are pretty, I see you got a tan it looks nice, You should let me take you out I promise you’ll have fun.” I kept my back to him the whole service. As soon as the service was over, I leaped across the teenage man to get out of the aisle and bolted towards the exit. I looked back a few times, but didn’t see him. So I was safe.

I met up with my mom at our designated spot. She ran into a co-worker and of course introduced me. My Mother has the gift of loquaciousness so I politely excused myself and went to my car. As soon as I pulled out of the parking lot my mother called me.

“Hey Mama.”

“Are you still in the lobby?”

“No, I just pulled out of the parking lot. Are you okay?”

“Yes. I just met the nicest man.”

“Lucky You. Just what you’ve been praying for.”

“Not for me. For You!”

Then I hear her telling someone to talk to me.

“Hey Ursala!”


“We give you our blessing. I know him. He is very nice, comes from a good family, no kids, never been married and he has a great job.”

Then I hear my mother asking for her cell back


“Ursala, he’s cute, not like you like them, he’s a pretty boy.”

“You’re funny Mother.”

“I’m just telling you that he is nice looking.”


“I gave him your number.”

“What?!? Mother!!! No!”

“Yes, he’s a good guy, comes to church, looks nice, comes from a wonderful family. He was so nice he gave us a ride to my car. You should thank me.”

“Wait, you got in a car with a stranger. You can’t do that.”

“He isn’t a stranger, Mrs. B_____ knows his mother. And he goes to church”

“Just because he goes to church doesn’t mean anything. He is a stranger to you. And you gave my number to this strange man. A man you don’t know.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. I know you’ll like him.”

My Mother has discerning taste, but she has never given my number to anyone so I’m a little concerned about her experimental match making.

“It doesn’t matter considering you’ve already given him my number. What if he starts calling me all the time?”

“Don’t answer your phone then.” I can tell she is exasperated with me, but I’m equally exasperated with her for giving my number to some strange man just because she met him at church.

“Mother you know I can’t do that I have to answer all calls to my cell right now. Well what did he look like?” I decided to be nice and not work my Mother’s nerves since I know she meant well.

“I told you already he’s a pretty boy.” I can tell I’m already working a nerve because I’m clearly not paying attention since I asked a question she has already answered.

“Could you be a little bit more specific? And what’s his name?”

“His name is L_____.”

“Wait did he have on a brown suit and a purply-lavenderish shirt?”

“Yes, he looked so nice.”

“NoOoooOoooo Mother you didn’t give that man my number.” Oh no my Mother gave my number to Mr. Mean. “Please tell me you are just playing or you meant to say you got his number for me.”

“He has your number and he is going to call you.” Click. My Mother almost never says bye when she is done talking she just hangs up.

I hoped there was some other pretty boy, in a brown suit, with the same name as Mr. Mean at church. I highly doubt it. I can’t believe my mother gave my number to Mr. Mean. The question is did he know it was my Mother or did she just pimp me out?

Only in my dreams…

I had a really weird dream last night. My dreams are generally very basic and boring. I do what I do in my normal every day life. I am accustomed to dreaming about brushing my teeth, folding clothes, making oatmeal, driving to work or getting something to eat at my favorite neighborhood diner. Just ordinary chores or tasks I do in my normal waking life. I rarely have nightmares. I’m never being chased, falling or anything crazy. One bonus is that I do dream in color. I generally remember my dreams when I first wake up and then I forget them as the day wears on.  Today I am very concerned because I remember my dream, but it was very odd. I am not prepared for dreams that make no sense whatsoever and are so strange that I can’t even imagine what it is supposed to mean. I say that because I do believe that dreams communicate things or I should say your subconscious communicates things. It can warn you, encourage you, provide solutions and answers to life problems or give you ideas. Dreams are a useful tool, but I’ve never really concerned myself with trying to figure them out because my dreams are so mundane.

That is until last night when I had the most bizarre dream I can remember having. In my dream I turned into a rock. I am driving along in my car, running errands and I turned into a rock. A little rock at first, but then I grew into a big rock mountain in the middle of the parking lot. What was even stranger was that people came around me and started climbing up my sides. They were doing all kinds of things on me, literally on me. Flying kites, picking flowers, having picnics and I had grassy knolls that people were sliding down. It looked like everyone was having fun, but on me. It was warm, sunny, crystal clear and the sky was so blue. There was a slight breeze that made my grass sway gently. It reminded me of spring time in Denver. It was like I turned into a state park. I also didn’t seem to be alarmed that I was a rock, I just sat there in all my wonderful rockiness.

StRaNgE. I know. Okay first of course I need to understand why I turned into a ROCK. I’ve never morphed/turned into anything. Plus I didn’t get to see the change. It was like one moment I am a person the next moment I am a rock. And not a diamond or say a sapphire, or some extremely rare rock, but just a plain old my guess would be granite rock. Of all things to be I turn into a rock!?!?!  The dream is also strange because I DO NOT like the outdoors. I do not like to be outside, fly kites, pick flowers, eat outside and I definitely do not like to slide or roll down grassy hills. None of these things appeal to me. Which is why I find the dream so bizarre. I do not have strange dreams like this where I turn into things or do things that I wouldn’t do in my normal life. I was thinking about it all morning and I can’t really think about anything else. I’m almost slightly frightened. If my subconscious has turned me into a rock what does that mean? I thought your subconscious was your own perfect fantasy world, personal hype man and solution provider all rolled in one. In your dreams ideally you should be and do the things you aspire to be, can’t do or haven’t done in real life. If I am turning into a rock mountain what exactly is going on in my subconscious? So if you are out there reading and can give me some insight/help interpret, pretty puh-lease share. Let me know what this all means.

A brave new world…

I am charting new territory…

Oh My, you don’t say…

Part 2 of How Interesting…and the plot thickens

My mouth dropped open…and it stayed open for at least 5 seconds, an uncomfortable 5 seconds. Long enough for it to be noticeable, but not so long that anything could fly into my mouth. After about 4.5 seconds I realized my mouth was still open and I shut it immediately. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what the proper response should be. I looked down into my lap and repositioned my napkin. More so to give myself a few moments to determine what I was going to say next. Should I play off my surprised mouth drop, lie and say I knew, or completely change the subject? I was embarrassed over my open mouth and I am sure I was turning pink. It wasn’t that he was Philippino, it was that I had no idea, and I had to go and act all surprised. I didn’t know if my look was oh wow or oh no. It was definitely oh wow, but sometimes my facial expressions don’t cooperate with my emotions. I would have never guessed it. He doesn’t look it. His eyes aren’t really hooded (of course on second inspection I notice that yeah they could be considered hooded) and they aren’t slanted (well very slightly on second inspection). He has a creamy tan color, one that looks like he lives in the south like every other southerner. His head is bald, but he does have a very short mustache, but the hair didn’t give any hints either. I’m just thinking wow this is crazy. I had not a clue. Nothing in his conversation alerted me either.

“You didn’t know. Did you?”

I look up from my lap. Now I’m inspecting the features of his face looking for the dead give-aways.

“[He] didn’t tell you did he?”

“Nope.” There is a pleasant smile on my face as I shake my head no.

“Is it a big deal?” Now I’m thinking omg my face probably looked hectic if he asked this question, and now I have to assure him that it was more that I had not a clue.

“No, not at all. It’s not even an issue. I just.” I let out one of those flustered crazy sounds when you blow air through your lips while they are still together and shake my head. “It’s just I couldn’t even tell. I would have never suspected anything unless you said something.”

“I always bring it up, people aren’t always cool about it. I feel it’s important that I share it with women I chose to date.”

“Well I appreciate your honesty, but it’s not an issue. I’m actually very intrigued.”

I kind of giggle thinking in my head that fate decided to send me out on an interracial date without my knowledge and despite my hesitations. This alleviates the pressure to make a decision, the decision has been made for me. We were technically on our second date And it wasn’t the least bit complicated, confusing, or even different. It was like any other date I’ve been on, only difference I was really interested. I guess it’s true you will attract what you think about or maybe life has just given me a little push to be open.

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