Category Archives: Relationships

The Day I Lost “IT”


This is a Chick #3 original. For her summer lit project, she was instructed to pick from 3 prompts and write an essay which is due right in the middle of summer break. Originally none of the prompts appealed to her because they all seemed sappy or emotional and she’s not really the kind of kid who enjoys writing about emotional things…unless, of course, there’s a little bit of dark humor attached. She ultimately chose the prompt stating she needed to write about something important she lost but still struggled with the idea of writing about loss. Anyway since she is visiting grandpa and Anna for the summer, she had roughly 2 weeks to write this 750 word essay but instead, she sloughed about, moped, and whined about it for almost a full week until I mentioned an incredibly hysterical incident where she lost her temper. By the time I came home from work, this is what she had written. I hope you enjoy… ~S.


The Day I Lost “IT”

A certain person cannot hold onto the raging fire of Hell within themselves after taking a beating after beating …after beating from a low life, such as a rotten sibling. It has to come out eventually. And in this case, there was an explosion. I know what you’re going to say,” Aren’t all siblings troublesome?” I would answer a simple “yes”, but that would not even suffice to the situation. This brings it to a whole new level. It’s no longer picking and bickering that results in wearing a “get along shirt”, but to the level of taking belongings and antagonizing each other to the point of breaking. Sounds like fun, right? Well, not when you’re on the receiving end and you can’t do anything to stop or prevent it from happening. As the youngest sister of three, being the target was easier than standing up for myself. However, one can only take so much before snapping and losing “IT”, while taking a baby stroller to a once beloved sister. Oh wait, we’re getting off topic. We’ll get there.

One day, out of the blue, the wretched queen of sibling misery showed up with her posse of guards. Surrounded and petrified, I stood there with a shy demeanor and clutched my stuffed dog, Oreo. As if me fearfully clutching the dog wasn’t signal enough, the queen attacked. While her guards held me in place, Oreo was plucked from my arms faster than I could scream bloody murder. I violently fought to get him back by thrashing around in her-not-so-majesty’s guards’ grasp and managed to squirm my way out of their mealy mitts, getting closer to the queen. As I advanced slowly, the queen glowered furiously and summoned her guards again. Mid stride, the queen threw Oreo to her left and from there, Oreo was a flurry of motion as he was thrown all around like a football game taking up action on the field. Seeing that the game of toss became monkey in the middle and that there was no chance of me intercepting my Oreo-ball, the queen and one of her guards, hightailed it out of there with Oreo in tow. Instantly, my mind concocted vengeful scenarios and I hoped at least one of them would pan out so I could retrieve my companion. I bolted from my spot. Speeding up on them, I tried to conceal myself within the crowd around. As I peered around a clump of passing people, determination painted itself on my face like war paint going into battle. In that moment, the queen stood alone and a chance popped up like a notification on a cell phone. Seeing my opportunity while the queen’s back was turned, I prepared to bulldoze right into her but instead, I stopped dead in my tracks. There to my left, laying a few feet away, sat a glorious toy baby stroller. I knew there was a possibility the queen would move while I retrieved my weapon, so I moved hastily. Time slowed as I swooped down to fetch the baby stroller and then with lightning speed, sped up as I swung at the queen with pent up anger for everything she ever did to me that brought misery. Pain, frustration, and anger flew through me in an instant. Remembering every tortured moment fueled me even further to keep smacking, bashing, and smacking, and more bashing until I was forced to cease fire by a passing adult.

The moments following this episode consisted of me being detained in the “Think Tank” to reflect on my hate crime but instead, I hugged Oreo and felt victorious. Later, when I was released, I sauntered up to the wretched queen and with the most crazed expression I could muster up, I hissed, “Now you know what happens when you mess with me. Want to try again?” Her face went white in terror while she profusely shook her head, “No”.

Being a fairly laid back person, it takes a lot of button pushing for me to get that angry and that was definitely the day I lost “IT”. I don’t enjoy getting mad but the incident marked a positive turning point in my relationship with my sister. She still aggravates me but in some way she also respects me more. And if she ever thinks she wants to take me on again, all I have to ask is, “baby stroller?”

~ O.


Loaded Baked Potato & Chicken Casserole


This is a super simple recipe that you can find just about anywhere. “OK, Google…” Btw, I love doing that to my daughter when she’s on her tablet. Hahaha!

Anyway, I had about a 1/2 bag of red potatoes I needed to cook up and some chicken breast I had already defrosted. So I decided to try this out.

Instead of typing out the recipe, I’ve provided a link here: Loaded Baked Potato & Chicken Casserole

The chicks loved this so much that they didn’t leave a single potato for my lunch tomorrow!

Bon appetit!


Drama Drive

Written 1/30/2015

I don’t even know where to begin with this…

Assumptions – who needs them?! Drama – who needs it?!  And WHY was MY day ruined because of other people?!

Yesterday was a day full of frustrations. The new job had my head spinning, eyes crossing, and head aching. But what made it worse was getting a text that said – “Call me now!” I’m used to the “!” mark following most messages from this friend but this text was not the same and immediately my stomach did a backflip and leapt right into my throat. In the middle of the lobby, I returned his call and was immediately assaulted with irritated ramblings about how people know information about him – private information. Information about his gift to me, etc. In the middle of the lobby, without any privacy, I did my best to stay calm during his accusations that I was the one talking to people to whom I never speak with. Oh sure. I speak to them but as a professional, not as a friend.

The problem here: I was happy, excited, and wanted to share…it was only when one particular person said something negative about him that he asked for nothing to be discussed…so I haven’t. That person only knew bits and pieces, has already voiced her opinion about him twice to me, and is friends with other people he knows. You see where this is leading, right? Straight down Drama Drive. But the bigger picture is that while it’s ok for people to discuss his dealings with one of the other people who’s talking, it isn’t ok for anyone to know about he and I talking. Why? There’s definitely something wrong with this picture. The reason seemed reasonable enough. That is until he told me about the other person he had been talking to and I began to piece it all together. This had nothing to do with his divorce or son. It had to do with him personally because he was doing exactly what my “friend” warned me about. The same warning, that when I told him, he completely over reacted and asked me not to discuss us any longer with people from work. And I respected him enough to do just that. Keep it to myself.

So – the text. The call. Assumptions. Accusations. And me – feeling like crap and then later to just being plain hurt because it wasn’t me who had done anything wrong. Normally, I would either  bury it deep down or explode in a fit of anger. I did neither. Instead, I called him back to express how I felt. I didn’t call to re-hash the original conversation but I did feel I needed to be heard about how he made me feel. At least I was heard.

Drama – Assumptions. Its all ridiculous. And his reaction was no less childish than those who talk about things they ought not. And I’m about to find another road to follow…


Holy complicated, Batman!

Over the years, I have actually had more than a couple people tell me that the look in my eyes is – Simple.   Ya, ya. I know before you get your panties in a wad, let me explain. Initially, I was kind of put off by that word, too but in all actuality, I do prefer for life, relationships, love, work, etc. to be just that – simple. Straight forward with no hidden agendas. Or otherwise know as – Uncomplicated. I also believe in good things. Call it an innocent naiveté but I’d rather see the positive to all situations. However, enjoying the simple things in life, doesn’t mean my mind is simple. And unfortunately, I know that in reality, life and love is anything but uncomplicated. None of it is ever easy – ever.

And why does it really need to be complicated? For instance, guy likes girl. Girl likes guy. They get together. Have some fun. He uses the “L” word – and oh boy, there goes simple. We just entered complicated in 4 letters. How about we just KISS? Keep it simple, stupid. So, ok. Now, what is she supposed to think? Is he really wanting to move forward with this or was he simply caught up in the moment? Blame it on the alcohol. But hey, I always say – you don’t say anything intoxicated that you haven’t thought about saying while sober. See what I mean? Complicated. Then, a washed with more feeling, he addresses the topic of other women not being faithful. Where are we going with this? Where did simple go? The daily messages. The visits. The hot sex that he refers to as “making love”.  …There are other intimate details to those conversations that really just add to the complicated confusion, making it difficult to know exactly where this whole thing is going.  On one hand – it’s just us having fun, getting to know each other. On the other hand, it’s him saying things that add confusion – like asking me if I’m going to tell people I’m taken. Taken? That would mean we’re in a relationship – right?

But as complicated would have it, he went straight for the climax of complicated. Straight to the top where we now teeter back and forth with uneasiness. On a glowing high, I made mention about us. Nothing detailed. Just the sweet Romeo part (forgetting that Romeo and Juliet is actually a tragedy) and you freaked. Told me it was too soon. Was offended when I asked a personal question. And now, I’m sitting here trying to understand what type of relationship you really want.

What started off simple and exciting has just ascended to an all time complicated high and  when it crashes, it’s going to be a doozy.


Is it a Sign? Is it just Corny? Or is it just a Corny Sign?

I’ve been playing this out in my head all afternoon but sometimes it’s just difficult to articulate the thoughts in my head.  So here goes…

Since the day you appeared under my balcony, my heart beats a little faster, there’s a little more swag in my step, my face lights up when you’re around, and my body burns with desire. My mind often wanders to you – thinking about holding, touching, and kissing or wow! I just can’t believe you chose me.

…and it’s the latter that often has my doubts climbing sky high and then waiting for them to come crashing through the floor. I expect it. I wait for it. I don’t want to give in to them but try as I might, I can’t completely shake the case of the stomach knotting doubts. Why? I suppose it’s because I trust too easily and then discover that the truths I’ve been told and believe haven’t always been the truth…and I get hurt.

Today, was one of those days where someone else planted a seed of doubt. My face lit up when you snuck in to say hello and revealed more than what I had intended. I know I flushed. I couldn’t stop smiling. It was so obvious. When she realized what was going on, my “friend” shared something about you with me. She wasn’t aware that you had already told me but still the seed was planted and the nagging doubt crept in like a wisteria vine that sneakily creeps, overcomes, and conquers. My stomach churned, fog clouded my mind, and even though you and I had already discussed this very piece of information, my heart sank and I just knew, this was the floor giving way because maybe – just maybe – there was more to this “truth” than what you had said.  Stomach knotted, I finished out my day by trying to stay busy. Unfortunately, that meant I kept bumping in to you. On any other day, that would have been exactly what I wanted. But today, I couldn’t say anything to you about the destructive thoughts taking over my brain and all I wanted, was to ask for some reassurance so that they would flee. So I figured I’d suffer against the cold for a few moments of alone time by preparing for afternoon dismissal. And as I was walking back along the road, there you were – Again!  I watched you leave and then spent my 45 minute drive home alone with my own thoughts.  You know the kind? Thoughts so loud they drown out the radio. Thoughts that obscure the landscape. Thoughts that bounce from this and that, trying to piece bits and pieces of conversations together. Replaying – over and over again. Thoughts that berate and chastise.  Calling me a fool. Telling me to wake up. Saying things like – idiot, you’ve been down THIS road before. What’s wrong with you?!

…and then, in a singular moment, somewhere between Wake up you fool! and I  can’t believe this! – I heard a faint and barely audible, “Romeo save me…” I shook my head because I wasn’t quite sure what I had heard. My radio was turned way down and with the wind whipping my car, even if I wanted to hear what was playing, I couldn’t.  Puzzled, I turned up the radio to hear Taylor Swift’s, Love Story and the flood of tears I was holding back, finally let loose. I shook my head, laughing and crying. But not because of doubts and my own insecurities. But because I know God works in mysterious ways and there are always signs. You just have to be open and receive them.  On a side note, Bruce in Bruce Almighty cracks me up when he’s oblivious to the signs he’s asking for. Duh! Ask for a sign and get a truck full of signs. Hell -ooo!

It may be a little corny to think that hearing that line at that very moment was anything other than coincidence but I honestly feel I was meant to hear it because I needed to.

Romeo save me, I’ve been feeling so alone…

… It’s a love story, baby just say yes

Raging Fire

Sometimes a certain song just seems to sing to your heart and soul. I love Phillip Phillip’s music, his persona, and all around sound. And, if you happened to watch season 11 of American Idol, who could forget his Thriller audition? Absolutely amaz- ing!

This evening, I was driving home, beat boppin’ to the radio jams, and was also thinking about my Romeo admirer when Raging Fire drew me back from my wandering thoughts. The lyrics are so powerful and hit home. Maybe not for everyone – but definitely for me. I hope everyone finds that raging fire within themselves and surrenders to your love’s heart. I know I have.

~ SE

New Year Surprises

It’s New Year’s eve and somehow, even though I know it’s absurd, I always have this romantic notion that it should always be spent with the one you love. It’s a symbol of the love that lies ahead for the new year and it says – I choose you. I want to be with you. I love you. But of course, I have to vigorously shake myself awake and then come to terms with the reality of the situation.  Another year gone. Another year ahead. And no one special to share it with…

Just yet…

She sees him. His deep, brown eyes fixed on her, twinkling with desire as they caress her curves. He beams a broad, toothy smile and almost appears to stand taller, straighter, puffed out, proud – as if to say “hey, check me out “. As she draws nearer, his hungry gaze lingers longer than normal. Is more direct. Almost intrusive. Ravenous. He’s longing for some reaction, a sign, a signal telling him to proceed with the unspoken flirtation. Meeting his intense gaze, she shyly returns the smile and then quickly averts her liquid, blue eyes. The heat begins as a slow creeping in her toes. Coursing through her long legs, causing them to ache and throb. Her abdomen burns with fire and as the searing heat rushes upward, she’s certain the blood red fire flushing her chest and face has exposed her secret passion for him. Her breath catches. Their eyes lock.

And he knows.

“…Heart is beating loud, she doesn’t want it to stop

Moving too fast, moon is lighting up her skin

She’s falling, doesn’t even know it yet

Having no regrets is all that she really wants

We’re only getting older, baby and I’ve been thinking about you lately. Does it ever drive you crazy?

Just how fast the night changes

Everything that you’ve ever dreamed of disappearing when you wake up

But there’s nothing to be afraid of

Even when the night changes

It will never change me and you…”                           One Direction

Barefooted, she gingerly steps onto the icy cold concrete of her tiny balcony. She momentarily stands there in the darkness. Eyes closed. Quietly listening to the street sounds. Breathing in the crisp night air. Finally, opening her eyes, she exhales a silent sigh. He must have been quietly watching her as she stood there in the cold darkness. Nervous and anxious. Gift in hand. Unable to speak for fear of startling her. Is it karma or fateful Divine intervention? Because he suddenly appeared under her balcony looking like a love struck Romeo pledging his everlasting love to Juliet. His gesture sincerely surprises her and genuinely touches her heart. Giddy, she accepts his gift and without hesitating, warmly hugs him.  …

Secret passions coming to fruition.

Where do they go from here?



Careless Love

Originally written in The W(H)INE Monologue April 2014

An old blog I wrote but never posted…

For some, expressions of love are simply expected tokens taken for granted. For others, expressions of love are insignificant and forgotten. One is equally bad as the other because they both represent just how careless people are with their love and those they claim to love.

Careless love #1 – The sweet, sweet boy presents his beautiful girl with a dozen pink tipped roses as a gesture of Valentine’s love. She hungrily grabs the roses and beams a toothy, joyful smile. Eyes twinkling, she crushes her face into the bouquet and inhales their intoxicating and rosy scent. She girlishly tells her beau, “Thank you” with a kiss on the cheek.

She’s enamored by the attention and his affectionate gesture and yet, when she arrives home, she carelessly tosses the roses on her unmade bed. She rushes here and there, hurriedly preparing for a sleep over with her friend and bolts out the door. There they lay, discarded among her clothes, in their clear cellophane wrapper, thirsty for a love’s touch and a quenching vase of water.

Careless love #2 – He wakes early, softly whispers, “Happy Valentine’s Day” and warmly wraps his arms around her before falling fast asleep. She lies there thinking, “maybe this time he’s actually bought a card or splurged on a bouquet of wild flowers”. She’s not the rose type of girl but wild flowers brighten her mood just as much as they cheer up any room. With excited thoughts of the day ahead, she snuggles into his arms and sleeps a little longer.

Later, she wakes and gingerly places his Valentine card on his desk. Like an excited child on Christmas morning, she searches the house for some sort of Valentine token. Is it here? Is it there? Where can it be? There’s nothing…and as she goes about her morning routines, she’s plagued by the attempt to rationalize his thoughtlessness and her heart breaks just a little bit more.

Have you ever noticed the symbolism between the Valentine Cupid, his nasty, flesh piercing arrows and the realities of love’s pain? I mean really! The person who coined the phrase “struck by Cupid’s arrow” has a seriously twisted, warped, and sadistic sense of humor. He …or she…was obviously quite familiar with the panging pains of love.

Whether it’s old or new, love is painful. Sometimes that barbed arrow neatly grazes the surface, leaving a stinging flesh wound in its wake. Other times, the dagger thrusts in deep, lodging itself in the most tender of places. In either case, once that bull’s eye searching arrow hits its mark, the pain felt from love’s first embrace is nothing compared to the flesh ripping arrow extraction.

Careless love #2 continued – Distraught, she succumbs to the hurt, pain, and anger of not just one misplaced Valentine gesture but the many…many overlooked, neglected, and seemingly unimportant gestures and tokens of love and affection. The tidal wave of heart wrenching pain rushes over her. She sobs, realizing all the “tokens” have always come from her. She says the “I love you’s.” She never misses a moment to warmly greet him with a kiss when she gets home from work. She hugs him. She touches him. Smiles at him. She holds his hand. She makes his morning coffee and expresses her love in so many ways that he doesn’t. As she fights back the tears, she chides herself and in her head, “This is STUPID! I’m upset about VALENTINE’S Day?!”

But it isn’t just about THIS day. It’s about the other 365 gesture-less days, too. It’s about feeling just as insignificant as the carelessly tossed roses. It’s his lack of affection and attention and his inability or unwillingness to demonstrate his love in a way other than buying stuff that means more to him than to her.

It’s about how careless his love really is.