Liebster Award!

Thank you so much, Motley, for nominating me for the Liebster Award!

The Liebster award is given by bloggers to other up-and-coming bloggers to highlight their work and encourage them to continue. Liebster, from German, means dearest, beloved, favorite.

For the official rules see here. I adopted Motley’s rules. These rules are:

1. Thank the blogger that has given you the award and include the Liebster logo.
2. Answer the questions that blogger set for you.
3. List five bloggers you nominate for the award.
4. Create questions for them to answer.
5. Go to their pages and notify them.

Here are the questions that Motley asked, I’ll try to answer them as best as I can!!

1. What/who inspired you to write? I have loved stories longer than I can recall. Once I could read and write, I began creating my own poems and stories. In Elementary school, my stories were often chosen to be read in front of the class, and I knew early on that what I wanted most was to create with my words.

2. What’s your day job? I serve, bartend, am a wine steward, and can perform various other jobs at a local country club. I’m also a full-time student working on realizing my dream of opening play centers and respite care for special needs children and their families.

3. What’s your writing process? I have a sudden idea, and I must write it down as quickly as possible. Most often, my final draft is remarkably unedited and in first draft form. I write maniacally, almost feverishly, and can rarely get the words down quickly enough.

4. What’s your favorite book? I first fell in love with the tales of Alice in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland followed by Through The Looking-Glass. The next books that resonated with me were the stories of Harry Potter. While I love almost anything I read, these collections hold the title of my favorites.

5. What’s your favorite song? Hmmm…just one? I think I have to say “You Are My Sunshine” because it’s the song I’ve sung to all of my children, and it was the first one they ever learned to sing themselves. It hold incredibly special meaning to me.

And who did I nominate? DRUM ROLL PLEASE….

http://amusingmyselfmusings.com/

https://justaddtea.wordpress.com/

https://single40femaleinthesea.wordpress.com/

http://elizabethconrad.me/

https://mirandarosevineyard.wordpress.com/

Aaaaaaaaand my questions for these amazing ladies are as follows:

1) If you were captured by cannibals, how would you prefer they prepare you?

2) What drew you into blogging?

3) Which blog have you written that you are the fondest or most proud of? Link it here!!!

4) What is the one thing you would change in your life right now if you were capable of making that change just by snappin’ your fingers?

5) What are your favorite simple pleasures?

I look forward to reading your answers!!!

Hello, Universe. It’s Me, LeeAnn

I’m of Russian, German, and Slovakian descent. On top of that, I’m an Aries female. What that amounts to is a whole lot of stubbornness and an overabundance of fierceness. I’m a force of nature due to nothing more than my birthright.

But even someone as determined, relentless, and often ornery as myself must recognize that the universe speaks. The life we plan isn’t generally the life we lead. And yet, we somehow end up exactly where we are meant to be even when it’s exactly the opposite of all we’ve tried to attain.

So here I am. Ready to listen and acknowledge.

I’m through with dating. I mean, I suppose if I meet someone inadvertently because we are thrown onto the same course at the precise moment we are meant to encounter each other, sure, I’ll still be listening to the universe then. But for now, the amazing amount of ignorance, disrespect, disgusting propositions, and overall incompatibility ensures I want nothing to do with fishing the deep, blue sea. I am unable to find even one iota of desire to peruse the muck of the underbelly of dating websites any longer. In fact, I am amazingly relieved at my decision to delete all dating apps and be content with where the universe currently has me.

Because, my dears, last night it hit me. It truly hit me. I will not find what I want while turning over every stone I encounter because what I am destined for is in the stars high above. What you find hidden in the underbelly is probably meant to remain in the shadows. And what I seek is the illumination that one rises to…not what one sinks to.

I am a mother. I am a college student once more. I am a friend and confidante. I have a full life that I just keep adding to. And stress from dating sites was retracting from all the good in my life. I can’t take any more of that nonsense. I’m going places, and I’ve no more time to trip or distract myself.

You see, I’m following my bliss. And my bliss is contained within myself and requires no outside interference to exist. It just is. It just exists. It just continues to be.

Unfortunately, POF refuses to let me delete my account.

So, I’ve merely hidden it from being searchable and deleted the app altogether. That’s some sneaky bullshit, by the way. It asks you to “Quit” and “Give up” after encouraging you to watch a video on online dating tips, then it refuses to recognize the password that was just freaking entered to open the app in the first place. Tricky, tricky.

That’s neither here nor there now. I’m walking away from forcing the universe to bend to my will. While that has worked in certain instances, I’m tired. I’m exhausted with always battling and always fighting for what I want and feel I need. I just want to flow on the lazy river of life for a good long while. What is to come my way will arrive here no matter how hard I try to attract it or run from it. Life has certainly taught me that much. Right now, the universe is telling me to give in and breathe…to stay on the course that is right and to let go of what feels wrong and to have faith that it will all work out.

So do your thing, Universe. I’m here, and I’m patiently waiting.

I Can Only Imagine

I really wanted to share something of substance that I’ve been working on, but instead, I decided to share today’s biggest loser. I’m growing less and less convinced that there is anyone of substance remaining in this entire state. Maybe even the entire country…

I left a message for my stockbroker to buy me more shares of Energizer…

An Introduction of Self—-Who Are You?

question marks

First speech written today for Effective Speaking..an introduction to me. It can’t be very long, and I had to answer specific questions. Any thoughts to improve it before I record myself speaking and upload it into my class portal would be faboo. So, you know….take a gander, please 🙂

Introduction of Self

My name is LeeAnn. I’m a Southern girl transplanted in the North, and I don’t like driving in snow. However, I’m learning. I’ve been a single mother since August 2010. I have four children, two boys and two girls, three are on the Autistic spectrum. Three are teenagers. The baby is definitely spoiled, and she knows it.

The person who has influenced and shaped who I am the most is my oldest son, Alexander. He was a difficult pregnancy, a difficult birth, and then a life-altering infant. First, he was a forceps delivery after a traumatic labor. He spent time in NICU, and shortly after he began experiencing seizures. He was developmentally delayed, wore leg braces, attended multiple therapies, and eventually was diagnosed as Autistic. Everything I see and believe about the world we live in was sculpted by bringing a special needs child into the world. Even now, my goals have shifted, and I am pursuing a degree in Special Education and Business Management simultaneously with the intention of opening my own play centers and respite care for special needs children and their families. I hope to eventually help develop similar programs nationwide to service a specific need not being met in the special needs community.

I am not terribly embarrassed by memories or experiences I’ve had. I view everything as a lesson to shape us and teach us what we haven’t taken into consideration yet. There’s nothing that I can think of that makes me blush or wish I could alter.

I think this is because I consider life to be something that cannot be controlled. You can plan. You can work toward your ideal goals. You can navigate yourself toward the path you wish to be on. But life happens in spite of all planning. One must be something that you can roll with. You must be resilient and understand that though plans change, it’s to be expected to encounter the unexpected. Adaptability is paramount. Without resilience and adaptability, one would never examine their lives, their goals, their skills, and their flaws. Learning this early in life was one of the most productive and crucial lessons I could ever dare to have realized, otherwise, the curveballs thrown my way would have been much more difficult to take a swing at.

If I’m lucky, I will be remembered as the girl who changed the world around her and brought a little ease into the lives of others. Everything I do is geared to leaving the world a little better after having been here. But it won’t go on my tombstone because if I am buried instead of cremated, I will ensure I come back and haunt whomever made the decision to stick me in a box and bury me in a creepy people garden.

Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire!

“Be open, LeeAnn! Quit waiting for the other shoe to drop! You know if you keep looking for something wrong with them, you’ll find it!”

Meh…

Sure, maybe I’m jaded. Sure, I’m quite possibly talking to a guy who is just helping someone out like the amazing guy he portrays himself to be. Or, you know, he’s Cheater McCheater McCheaterpants.

I’m just gonna go with the latter because I’m not twelve, and I have this alarm that sounds whenever someone is bullshitting me. Like right now. There’s not a single word in this exchange that makes me want to give the benefit of the doubt.

I ain’t even mad. I’m so used to this type of behavior that it’s only blog worthy because I worked all day and didn’t post a thing and needed something to write quickly so I can go the fuck to sleep.

I Wish You Hadn’t Been Make-Believe

I wish you had meant the words you spoke and the look in your eyes and the way that you touched me. Not just in the night when the heat washed over us and the breaths became hitched and low in our throats, but in the way you slid your hand into the arch of my lower back and guided me as we walked or the way I would catch you watching and smiling as I did something ridiculous and ordinary. I still forgive my own unique silliness because you once loved it so.

I wish that last night before sleeping by your side as I listened to your deep breaths, I really could have slipped inside your dreams to play with you there as I imagined. I was so sad that evening knowing what I must do when the morning came. I still wonder what you dreamt that night as your lip curled slightly and your lashes lay softly upon your cheeks.

I wish when you said forever, you had known what promises meant to me. I wish when I had told you what deceits I could never recover from, you would have paid heed and tried to keep the illusory bubble from popping…for just a little longer. Infinitely, maybe. I still crave that intensity and fragility coexisting together in a perfect dance in every partner I spin dizzily with.

I wish you had stayed that boy I loved, my own Peter Pan, never growing up into the man you became who wandered down the forked path in search of faery lights in the distance while I stumbled the other direction. I still look up and fervently rummage through my memory as I seek your face amongst those who shine for the briefest of moments.

I wish I had those sangria lips and hooded eyes for longer than the seconds of scattered crystallized moments etched so deeply into my psyche. Those rainy days and lazy afternoons while we read to each other from books we cherished and discussed the innermost workings of the universe we were so far from ever understanding. Those days made me fall in love with your mind and your ideas and your poetic words, and I’ve searched for signs of your brilliance in every single one to come since you.

I wish I could go back to the moment when you pulled me from within myself, vulnerable, yet so unafraid, because your bravery became my own. I still try to fly even though you clipped my wings as you walked out the door one last time. I remember the wind carrying me higher and higher and higher, and like Icarus, I need to touch the sun once more no matter what consequences I face for dreaming.

I wish I could awaken beside you just once without remembering the pain that came afterward and find myself in that moment…that Sunday morning when we were out of coffee and out of food and out of money and laughing at the radio that assured us love would keep us alive. We made love and ignored our growling stomachs and talked about how someday we would have it all. I still think of all that we endured and how strong our connection was to carry us through so much before the roaring flame died down to embers.

I think of nights parked behind the school and how we fell asleep curled into each other, your head on my shoulder, my head on your heart. I now know to search for that one that I can lull myself to sleep by listening to the rhythm of his lifeblood because you taught me that I can hear my own heart beating in the echoes of his own.

I wish you had existed for real and for all time and as one person. I wish you hadn’t grown immune to everything you had seemed to love within me and dropped me to the side in search of something better. I had wanted to be that one, and I still try to become her with every realization I have of what I am lacking.

I wish, I wish, I wish I hadn’t raised my standards in search of you within every new face I see, because who could possibly be you…the one who changed everything I was into everything that I am? The creator of what I crave. The instigator of everything I seek. The founder of every reason I cannot accept anything less than what I saw in you…even though you didn’t see that within yourself then and still can’t see it today.

I wish you hadn’t been temporary. I wish you hadn’t been make-believe.

Should I Stay, Or Should I go?

James, the cute boy who owns a vape lounge, invited me back over last night to his bachelor pad which he has already talked about being his own private sanctum that he doesn’t like invaded. By the way, he’s going to be known in this blog as the Vaping Viking from this point forward since his Nordic features are all I can really focus on.

He told me to wear my pajamas, so I did.

We watched the A-Team…

That’s the best picture I could get because by the time I took it, well…Ugh, I’m jumping ahead of myself. Let’s start from the beginning.

I came over. I parked in an unfamiliar area. I walked over to his house where he was waiting outside to meet me. We headed upstairs where he had A-Team queued up. I knew as we were snuggling up that it didn’t matter that I specifically put on my ugly panties reserved for the times I’m trying to ensure no one in the world will be getting my pants off…I had probably made a bad choice in coming to his house knowing full well it wasn’t just to watch tv. I haven’t had sex in nine months. I think he’s sexy as all get out with his Nordic features and flowing, long hair…like Fabio with a better nose.

So we were giggling and talking and his hand was suddenly on my leg. He was watching my reactions, and I was becoming more flustered because he was watching me so closely with an open intensity. We continued talking, he discovered I’m ticklish, I discovered he’s just as ticklish,and we were tickling and laughing and wrestling around quite a bit, and before I knew it, I was tucked so closely into him that I couldn’t really tell where he ended and I began.

Then he was kissing me. I must admit, that was one amazing kiss. And it was followed by another, and another, and another, and hands were all over the place and clothes were kinda being tossed wherever all willy nilly, and then I remembered that I couldn’t have sex yet, so I stopped him.

“Wait! We can’t have sex tonight!”

He pulled back and looked slightly disappointed but recovered quickly like a gentleman. He was okay with it and didn’t try to push me further!

“I mean, it isn’t you, and it isn’t me. It’s my vagina. You can’t put your penis inside it because it’s already full of tampon!”

Then he’s laughing, and I’m laughing, and then there’s kissing and touching and a reminder that you can do a whole lot of stuff without actual penetration. And so we did. A lot. Several times. For hours.

Then he asked me to spend the night. Just. Like. That. And I did.

He doesn’t bring girls home. He hasn’t had sex in two years out of pure choice because he had other focuses and girls in York County are…well…not really all they’re cracked up to be…and so I know he’s not this horn-dog that was simply trying to boink me and send me home. Because while we had fun, we didn’t boink. He brought me into his home and played and teased and joked and kissed me like he wanted to devour every ounce of my being. Then he wanted me beside him all night.

This morning, he made coffee, and I fell back asleep, and then I woke up as he was just about to leave for a meeting. I grabbed my shoes and threw them on real quick, and he walked me down the street to my car. I was half asleep and a little miffed that he didn’t wake me up in time to have more coffee and get my bearings. It didn’t dawn on me until my drive home that he hadn’t planned on me leaving yet. He had his meeting and was coming right back home where he had hoped I would still be. I verified through a text. I was the girl who runs out first thing in the morning. He’s the guy that wanted me to stay.

When we got to my car, he pulled this off the windshield:

I had to pretty much grab it out of his hand…he was insisting on paying it for me. And yes, those are Hello Kitty pajamas. Don’t judge me.

He opened my car door, hugged me close, handed me a vaping juice he had mixed just for me before leaving his shop yesterday. He closed the door behind me, and he watched me drive away. And we’ve been texting all morning since I got home.

I don’t spend the night. It’s been a long time since I’ve spent the night beside someone. I don’t know what I was thinking or why I wanted to sleep beside him and wake up more than once to find him also awake and covering me back up under the blankets that I kept kicking off. I don’t know why it was so nice or why I wasn’t scared. I’m always scared when it becomes that intimate. And let’s face it, there’s not much else that’s more intimate than sleeping in the arms of someone…fully trusting that while unconscious, they won’t murder you. Or worse…look at the messages and pictures in your phone…

I know it isn’t forever with the Vaping Viking. He’s selling his shop and leaving PA within the year. And I don’t have those “OMGAWDS” kind of feelings, either. I mostly just have the “I like him enough, and I like how I don’t feel pressured, and he’s pretty, and I forgot what it was like to sleep in the arms of another all night…to have someone make me coffee and walk me to my car and kiss me like he has waited his whole life to kiss someone like that” kind of feelings. I don’t know if that’s wrong, either…to be so intimate when it’s such an indefinite thing. Or is this really embracing the moment and one of those living for now come-what-may experiences that I sought after to begin with?

I asked myself if I should stay or go, and I stayed. And I’m pretty sure I’ll be doing it again…

Say Cheese!!!

Psssst. Hey boys. Psssst….hey! Yeah, you! Did you know your profile picture on a dating site says a lot about you? Do you know most the pictures on certain sites are absolutely terrifying? I’m not talking about the blah ones like in front seats of cars or from an angle down near your waist looking up that is possibly the single most unflattering angle in the entire plethora of angles and perplexes me ever so much that there are so many of you that utilize said angle. I’m specifically talking about how scary some of you look. There’s murder in your eyes, I can see it.

You’re growling when you pop up in my inbox. I automatically make your scary eyes go away.

*Shivers*

Let’s also take into account that the average woman on a dating site gets dozens upon dozens of messages per day. She has options. If you look pissed when she sees you, it’s human nature to walk away as quickly as possible.

So let’s go over things not to do when choosing the picture you want to wow a female with.

1) Stop scowling! I’m serious. Don’t choose pictures that look like you’re a giant, mean, poopie-head who probably pushes little old ladies down for fun on Tuesdays.

2) Out of focus pictures won’t make me click to see more. This is the picture that is the FIRST IMPRESSION we have of you. Could you at least TRY to impress?

3) Stop taking topless photos in the bathroom mirror. Stop it. Stop it now!

4) Pictures while in the driver’s seat….really? Why? Don’t you know one person who could snap a picture of you somewhere other than in your car?

4B) Also…stop taking pictures of your car. I don’t give a flying fuck how much you spent on your rims. I really, truly don’t.

5) Close ups that reveal every pore on your face aren’t that grand, either. Back up. A little more. Okay, just a little bit more. There, now you may take the picture.

6) Oh, awesome. You go to the gym. Then you flex while still in the gym and take a picture. Every single one of your pictures is of you. Flexing. In a gym. How original.

7) Are you really posing with a gun? Sweet Mary Mother of God…NEXT!

8) Stop posting pictures of you with your children. On a dating site. For the love of all that’s holy, why would you post pictures of your innocent children on a website for perfect strangers, some who are undoubtedly unbalanced, to see???? Why would you DO that???

Here are a few collages I made of actual profile pictures that have popped up in my inbox today. I did not include the ones that have children or guns because I will not perpetuate the inappropriate decision to use them to get dates, nor did I include the ones with firearms because I don’t want to get killed if they see this and stuff.



Don’t make Hulk angry! You won’t like Hulk when he’s angry!

Now…to end on a positive note, here are pictures that have ended up in my inbox full of quirkiness and smiling faces and artsy poses and the overall feeling that they’re nice and fun and worth a second look. DO try and emulate these photos, boys. THESE photos get your foot in the door for a girl to at least look at your pictures and read your self-promotional write-up. More on how you should present yourself in your “About” section later. Yup yup yup!!!

Fun, fun, fun!!!! Sign me up!!!

(I have dinner plans with one of these guys this week. I’ll let you try and guess which one)

In conclusion, seriously, exert some actual effort and stop being scary. And trim your nose hairs. That’s totes important, too. Just sayin’.

Patterns

In the last two years I have dated:

(In proper order)

*James L.
*Jeremy J.
*Javier R.
*Jason H.
*Jason B.
*Jason P.
*Jamie S.
*Rich W. (Crazed man who started a nine hour standoff with state police when I ended things)
*Jay P

Only one wasn’t a J name.

I’m definitely seeing a pattern of J’s coming through my life. And I will never again date three Jason’s in a row.

Last night, James C. flat out threw his hat in the ring. He fished for sex a little but accepted ahead of time that I would say no because he knows I’m practicing celibacy and am waiting to have sex again until I am in a committed relationship.

So then he sent this which ensured he didn’t make me drop him and think of him as nothing but some guy wanting to get laid:

He’s kinda cute with his long blond hair and pretty blue eyes. He smells nice, too. He owns a vape shop, and I’ve already hung out once. Now I’m on my way out the door again to hang out with a man with a J name and watch YouTube videos and sit on his couch and giggle like teenagers over the silliness and just exist beside someone who wants to boink me but is respecting my boundaries. How nice…a guy who proves he thinks I’m boinkable but can control himself and accept my stance without trying to argue with me about it.

Even if his name does start with a J, which has proven to be a pattern that breaks my heart when given the chance…