Dear Summer lovers,
No one loves the summer time more than I do. Some would describe me as cold blooded (literally and emotionally) so hot humid conditions do not phase me in the least. I'm like a lizard laying out on a rock. Don't get me wrong, Autumn is still my favorite with it's warm days and crisp nights, but when the days are running long and cold beverages are involved I'm a happy camper.
Having said that there are few of my brethren out there I'd like to have a quick word with so as to ensure we are all going to have a safe, comfortable, and relatively painless time as we celebrate the season.
1.) Dear Baby Girls.... You've heard me say it before, you're going to hear me say it again. You are all beautiful but sometimes you need to leave some things to the imagination. Let me speak plainly, put some clothes on. Yes, I'm jealous you can hide your phone, cash, credit cards, and a taser in your cleavage. I know you're hiding it there because your shirt is almost open to your knees or your bikini top is more like two eye patches. Please do all your sisters and mature brothers a favor and put those twins away before they hurt somebody...most likely you. You're sending the wrong message about who you are and what you really want which is likely just someone to like you, tell you that you're lovely, and valuable. We don't need to visit with the "twins" to figure that out. Also, I don't care how much you profess to be working on your fitness, those lacey booty shorts are not biking shorts. You're going to catch a chaff so harsh you won't want anyone to look or touch. I'm just saying.
2.) Couples at the pool.... I'm so glad y'all found one another. I'm glad there is "chemistry" in your relationship. But latching on to your significant other and riding them like a sea sponge around the pool while my babies are splashing in their floaties two feet away kind of makes me cringe. Furthermore, pinning them up against the pool wall really should be something reserved for behind closed doors. Again, some things need to be left to the imagination. Most people do not want the images of your PDA burned into their retinas while they're sipping poolside, and let's be real... aren't there enough fluids already swimming around in that pool? Again, I'm just saying please, please have some modesty and decency.
3.) Final shout out to my sun worshipers out there... I love a good tan as much as the next person. I remember laying in the sun for hours growing up and getting deep, nice brown tans. A little color never hurt anyone. I must say though as I have gotten old(er) I've grown more cautious about intentionally working on my tan. Watching several good friends, some younger than I, have cancerous spots removed and now seeing the wrinkles, freckles, and sunspots popping up on my body from my young and fun days, I would encourage you to put on some sunscreen or invest in a good umbrella. I don't want my nice leather MK bag to blend in with you while we're out shopping together. Capiche?
Keep a couple of cold beverages and a hot dog in the fridge for me ok? Y'all are always welcome to come by for a nice ice cream treat or some cool lemonade if you're out this way. Around here we don't lock the doors when crazy shows up. We invite it up on the porch and break out the good stuff.
Happy summer compadres!
LJ
Showing posts with label Friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friendship. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Saturday, April 30, 2016
An apology
Dear friend,
This letter isn't just a note to apologize for some egregious behavior.
It isn't a manifesto where I bash myself for doing something wrong that wasn't actually wrong.
It's not an attempt to be passive aggressive or melodramatic.
This letter is about being selfish and selfless all at once.
It's about expressing raw, real feelings. We just love feelings, don't we?
It's dedicated to you and countless other individuals I may have hurt or caused discomfort along the way intentionally or not.
It's dedicated to people who for whatever reason still may be searching for the right words to apologize with.
It's dedicated to people who are too ignorant to know they're in the wrong and will never say they are sorry to their loved ones. "Harsh words will hurt your feelings, but silence will break your heart." C.S. Lewis
It's dedicated to people who never had (or were given) the opportunity to express heartfelt sorrow for their actions.
Since our last conversation and what I'm assuming was the end of our friendship, my emotional cup has been full of sticky anger, sharp hurt, but tonight it is overflowing with wet grief. I'm grieving so bad I'm eating plain Greek yogurt. We all know that being sad and eating soured sour cream is the worst. I gotta tell you though, I'm enjoying these feelings. I have repressed them for so so long.
I lost my privilege with you sweet friend but it's not entirely your doing. I contributed to this fractured relationship. Up until I figured out how wonderful it is to let my guard down, I hid myself behind a fragile mask. I'm sorry my fear of losing you and abandonment far outweighed loving you enough to show you all of who I am and serving you with a completely unselfish heart. I owe you an apology for putting you on such a high pedestal and setting you up for a painful fall. I was looking for affection and validation in the wrong places. That was never your responsibility, and I have since asked to be forgiven and repented of my ways. I hope you have forgiven me somewhere along the way.
Despite the grief, I can tell you from the bottom of my heart that initiating the conversation that ended our friendship last year was one of the bravest and kindest things you could have done for me. I know it wasn't easy but I needed to change and you were just being honest with me and yourself. Looking into the intentions of our hearts and wishing they were different sucks. What was meant for evil has been used for good though. Since this happened I have walked with another friend who is going through a scarily similar situation and been able to offer encouragement and insight. I am now careful to check my intentions with other people and I've gained a tremendous amount of confidence in just being Lendy without fear of loss.
I still miss you. I often dream about you and wake up to pray for you. Sometimes I wish things could be different. Just know that I am a better person for having known you. I enjoyed what time I had with you. And I will pray for the Lord's hand to be with you all your days.
LJ
This letter isn't just a note to apologize for some egregious behavior.
It isn't a manifesto where I bash myself for doing something wrong that wasn't actually wrong.
It's not an attempt to be passive aggressive or melodramatic.
This letter is about being selfish and selfless all at once.
It's about expressing raw, real feelings. We just love feelings, don't we?
It's dedicated to you and countless other individuals I may have hurt or caused discomfort along the way intentionally or not.
It's dedicated to people who for whatever reason still may be searching for the right words to apologize with.
It's dedicated to people who are too ignorant to know they're in the wrong and will never say they are sorry to their loved ones. "Harsh words will hurt your feelings, but silence will break your heart." C.S. Lewis
It's dedicated to people who never had (or were given) the opportunity to express heartfelt sorrow for their actions.
Since our last conversation and what I'm assuming was the end of our friendship, my emotional cup has been full of sticky anger, sharp hurt, but tonight it is overflowing with wet grief. I'm grieving so bad I'm eating plain Greek yogurt. We all know that being sad and eating soured sour cream is the worst. I gotta tell you though, I'm enjoying these feelings. I have repressed them for so so long.
I lost my privilege with you sweet friend but it's not entirely your doing. I contributed to this fractured relationship. Up until I figured out how wonderful it is to let my guard down, I hid myself behind a fragile mask. I'm sorry my fear of losing you and abandonment far outweighed loving you enough to show you all of who I am and serving you with a completely unselfish heart. I owe you an apology for putting you on such a high pedestal and setting you up for a painful fall. I was looking for affection and validation in the wrong places. That was never your responsibility, and I have since asked to be forgiven and repented of my ways. I hope you have forgiven me somewhere along the way.
Despite the grief, I can tell you from the bottom of my heart that initiating the conversation that ended our friendship last year was one of the bravest and kindest things you could have done for me. I know it wasn't easy but I needed to change and you were just being honest with me and yourself. Looking into the intentions of our hearts and wishing they were different sucks. What was meant for evil has been used for good though. Since this happened I have walked with another friend who is going through a scarily similar situation and been able to offer encouragement and insight. I am now careful to check my intentions with other people and I've gained a tremendous amount of confidence in just being Lendy without fear of loss.
I still miss you. I often dream about you and wake up to pray for you. Sometimes I wish things could be different. Just know that I am a better person for having known you. I enjoyed what time I had with you. And I will pray for the Lord's hand to be with you all your days.
LJ
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
The Name Game
Today the elastic in my big girl panties broke and I decided to go public with the fact it frustrates me to no end when people do not take the time to understand that my name...however weird, unusual, or quirky it may be... is Lendy and that it is not ok when people do not take the time to call me that especially after I politely correct them multiple times. WHEW! That was a mouthful. First time offenders, fast food / Starbucks people that I never intend to see again...no harm no foul. Everybody needs grace but when you are simply too lazy, too distracted, know me personally, have seen my name in print, or think that my name should be something other than what it is...the fact that you will not take the time to get my name right makes me feel disrespected. My blood pressure hits the midway point which is high for my typical collected-ness. The straw that broke the camel's back was this afternoon when I stopped in to check on a gift I ordered at a local store. I had to complete an order form when I purchased it so my information was clearly on file. The lady behind the counter asked for my name. I politely , compliantly, and quietly (my public front) replied, "Lendy Johnson." After a few seconds she said, "I don't have a Wendy Johnson." Slight intake of breath..."It's Lendy. L-e-n-d-y Johnson." Slight pause. "I'm sorry ma'm I don't have Wendy or Lendy Johnson listed. I do have Lindsay Johnson?" There are probably 1,000 Lindsay Johnson's in the greater Raleigh area but only 1 (maybe 2) Lendy's that I personally know of including myself. Facepalm. Sometimes my overactive imagination laughs at how I can get away with pretty much anything... I can just blame it on any one of my other identities Wendy, Lindsay, Linda, Leslie, Linday, Lyndee, Lindy, etc., etc. Wendy and Lindsay are my go-to girl's when I want to be hateful. Those are the names I get called the most. God help the reputation of all you Wendy / Lindsay Johnsons out there.
Ninety-five percent of the time I have difficulty dealing with the name game that I have played my entire life. The other 5% offer some pretty entertaining stories. I vividly remember coming home from vacation bible school at the age of 7 with a "Son" visor that we had glued little do-dads on during craft time. Our teacher had wrote our names on the visors so we knew which one to take home. She handed me my sun visor at the end of the day and while I recognized the fuzzy blue and yellow pom pom balls I had previously glued on I also noticed my name had changed to Linday. I was so confused. Was that my name now? Did she give me someone else's hat???? Where was my hat??? I was experiencing identity crisis / theft at age 7!! I still remember my Mama trying not to laugh as I cried about how my visor was lost or someone else took it after she explained that my name had not changed. I refused to believe that my teacher had mispelled my name.
My junior year of high school all of the cool kids were in the FFA and spent the majority of their time hanging out in the "ag department." My friends and I would eat lunch in the "ag office" or hang out in front of the building between classes. Everyone knew everyone and as juniors we thought we were too cool for many of the freshmen who tried to come in and earn their spot on our turf. There was a freshmen boy that always hung out after Agriscience class that got unmercifully picked on for not being the, "sharpest tool in the shed" but he did (does) have a kind heart. One day he shyly admitted to one of my girlfriends that he had a big crush on a hot upper classman. He said, "Uh well I think her name is Wendy... Wendy Beaman." I never lived that one down. My friends got a riot out of this and so Wendy Beaman has messages written to her in my senior yearbook. :)
In the heat of my frustration I posted a status on Facebook announcing my hate of the name game. I found out quickly that there are many of you that feel my pain. Even people with seemingly "normal" names battle folks calling them pet names or nicknames that they never wanted. There are people that go by abbreviated names or nick names that battle folks wanting to call them by their "formal" name. I have to admit that I am the worst for giving people pet names. My poor husband Mike has been permanently branded by most of my friends as "Mikey." I have a close friend I refer to as "boo." Another good friend I shared an office with is my "wifey" even though we are happily married, straight ladies. I have several Jennifers that became Jenn's. My dog's name is Bella but we call her "Pookie." At work there is Mac Daddy, Ms. Tripp, Meg, Shon, Real-lo... wow that makes us sound like a gang rather than a group of professionals. If anyone out there that has been given a title they didn't like...please let it be made known. There is no room for politeness on this issue. I would hate to make anyone feel the consternation I feel when people don't get my name right.... and obviously others feel the same way.
Here's a kernel of truth / my unsolicited advice on this issue...If you don't know how to pronounce a person's name or know what they want to be called...my suggestion would be to just ask. It may feel awkward but most likely they'll appreciate it and you won't feel like an idiot when they correct you. If you do mess up and get their name wrong, have the decency to pay attention (hard right?) and get their name right the next time.
Ninety-five percent of the time I have difficulty dealing with the name game that I have played my entire life. The other 5% offer some pretty entertaining stories. I vividly remember coming home from vacation bible school at the age of 7 with a "Son" visor that we had glued little do-dads on during craft time. Our teacher had wrote our names on the visors so we knew which one to take home. She handed me my sun visor at the end of the day and while I recognized the fuzzy blue and yellow pom pom balls I had previously glued on I also noticed my name had changed to Linday. I was so confused. Was that my name now? Did she give me someone else's hat???? Where was my hat??? I was experiencing identity crisis / theft at age 7!! I still remember my Mama trying not to laugh as I cried about how my visor was lost or someone else took it after she explained that my name had not changed. I refused to believe that my teacher had mispelled my name.
My junior year of high school all of the cool kids were in the FFA and spent the majority of their time hanging out in the "ag department." My friends and I would eat lunch in the "ag office" or hang out in front of the building between classes. Everyone knew everyone and as juniors we thought we were too cool for many of the freshmen who tried to come in and earn their spot on our turf. There was a freshmen boy that always hung out after Agriscience class that got unmercifully picked on for not being the, "sharpest tool in the shed" but he did (does) have a kind heart. One day he shyly admitted to one of my girlfriends that he had a big crush on a hot upper classman. He said, "Uh well I think her name is Wendy... Wendy Beaman." I never lived that one down. My friends got a riot out of this and so Wendy Beaman has messages written to her in my senior yearbook. :)
In the heat of my frustration I posted a status on Facebook announcing my hate of the name game. I found out quickly that there are many of you that feel my pain. Even people with seemingly "normal" names battle folks calling them pet names or nicknames that they never wanted. There are people that go by abbreviated names or nick names that battle folks wanting to call them by their "formal" name. I have to admit that I am the worst for giving people pet names. My poor husband Mike has been permanently branded by most of my friends as "Mikey." I have a close friend I refer to as "boo." Another good friend I shared an office with is my "wifey" even though we are happily married, straight ladies. I have several Jennifers that became Jenn's. My dog's name is Bella but we call her "Pookie." At work there is Mac Daddy, Ms. Tripp, Meg, Shon, Real-lo... wow that makes us sound like a gang rather than a group of professionals. If anyone out there that has been given a title they didn't like...please let it be made known. There is no room for politeness on this issue. I would hate to make anyone feel the consternation I feel when people don't get my name right.... and obviously others feel the same way.
Here's a kernel of truth / my unsolicited advice on this issue...If you don't know how to pronounce a person's name or know what they want to be called...my suggestion would be to just ask. It may feel awkward but most likely they'll appreciate it and you won't feel like an idiot when they correct you. If you do mess up and get their name wrong, have the decency to pay attention (hard right?) and get their name right the next time.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
A Fable if you will....
This morning I was on a short run at the greenway and I remembered a great story that I feel the need to share. In the shower I came up with a whiz bang moral to the story...Let's try and see where it all goes. I should tell you that if you don't like gross things or cannot handle some sketchy language then this blog post is not for you.
I have a weekly bike date with my boo. It's like we're two 12 year old girls again and we meet up to ride our bicycles once a week except we're not 12... We're competitive 28 year olds training for a triathalon. That's what happens when you grow up girls...j/k...and I digress. We have been going for our weekly rides at the Neuse River trail, which is a fairly scenic route. At the end of the first mile are 2 pedestrian bridges across small creeks. One afternoon as we rode across the second bridge we both noticed this huge, gross, fresh pile of...yep...poop. Instead of turning away and moving on we are both staring at this pile of crap speculating on where it came from, how long it had been there, and how long it would take for someone to run through it...how we would hate to run through it, etc. I was completely lost in pondering this issue when a distinct clanking sound broke into my thoughts. I looked over to realize that my boo had lost her balance while we were awkwardly staring and was bumping along the rail on the side of the bridge. She eventually slid off the bridge, down the side, and somehow successfully managed to not completely fall off or turn over her bike. She's talented. Watching this all happen was pretty nightmareish. Most people probably would have laughed but I couldn't stop thinking how she was going to rocket over the side of the bridge onto the rocks below or slam the pavement and skid. It was scary and I couldn't do anything but watch.
This story has a happy ending. My boo didn't get hurt and we went on to have a glorious stress-free bike ride with a pretty fabulous time (remember triathalon) and we're going back tonight. Now, here's the literal and figurative moral to my story: Don't waste your time focusing on shit (literally or figuratively speaking) or wondering who caused it or where it came from...it can cause you to get off balance, lose perspective, and potentially get hurt. Fact of the matter is that "it happens" and we may have to ride by it or through it at some point so keep good company that can support you if you fall and who make your ride enjoyable.
The end.
I have a weekly bike date with my boo. It's like we're two 12 year old girls again and we meet up to ride our bicycles once a week except we're not 12... We're competitive 28 year olds training for a triathalon. That's what happens when you grow up girls...j/k...and I digress. We have been going for our weekly rides at the Neuse River trail, which is a fairly scenic route. At the end of the first mile are 2 pedestrian bridges across small creeks. One afternoon as we rode across the second bridge we both noticed this huge, gross, fresh pile of...yep...poop. Instead of turning away and moving on we are both staring at this pile of crap speculating on where it came from, how long it had been there, and how long it would take for someone to run through it...how we would hate to run through it, etc. I was completely lost in pondering this issue when a distinct clanking sound broke into my thoughts. I looked over to realize that my boo had lost her balance while we were awkwardly staring and was bumping along the rail on the side of the bridge. She eventually slid off the bridge, down the side, and somehow successfully managed to not completely fall off or turn over her bike. She's talented. Watching this all happen was pretty nightmareish. Most people probably would have laughed but I couldn't stop thinking how she was going to rocket over the side of the bridge onto the rocks below or slam the pavement and skid. It was scary and I couldn't do anything but watch.
This story has a happy ending. My boo didn't get hurt and we went on to have a glorious stress-free bike ride with a pretty fabulous time (remember triathalon) and we're going back tonight. Now, here's the literal and figurative moral to my story: Don't waste your time focusing on shit (literally or figuratively speaking) or wondering who caused it or where it came from...it can cause you to get off balance, lose perspective, and potentially get hurt. Fact of the matter is that "it happens" and we may have to ride by it or through it at some point so keep good company that can support you if you fall and who make your ride enjoyable.
The end.
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