The Vomit-Swoon

The vomit-swoon is an omni-present phenomenon in my life as I classify myself as a cynical-romantic. 

I am one of those women who loves a good romantic movie and would absolutely love it to actually happen in my life, but would probably be awkwardly cracking up at the same time.

Let's take a few classics:
Pretty Woman
Well 1) I'm not a hooker and 2) if I had a guy pull up to my crappy apartment in a limo with roses, and then he had to crawl slowly up the fire escape for fear of falling....I would be laughing.  I wouldn't be playfully tossing my hair around to strike the perfect pose for when Richard Gere rounded the corner.  I would be sitting there awkwardly wondering why he was taking so long and what I should be doing in the meantime.  And...I don't think a random guy would then be walking across the street providing commentary on this miraculous moment of love.

You've Got Mail
I realize that yes, I did try online dating...but c'mon Tom Hanks...stalk her much?  It may just be me, but I would be FURIOUS if I found out that he knew who I was all along.  Yes yes, love conquers all but that's a little messed up.  However...so I don't come across as a complete cynic...I can't help but cry at the end of that movie everytime until he says 'Don't cry, Shopgirl', at which point I start laughing.  Who wants to be called by their screenname when they embrace their true love?  'Don't cry Ylucyb'  somehow doesn't have the right zing!

The Last of the Mohicans
Granted, not a romantic comedy but has one of the best lines of all time....
What are you looking at, Sir?
I'm looking at you, Miss. Followed by extrememly intense eye contact.
I can't have a staring contest like that without laughing at some point...

To get to the point today...here's a quick recap of my weekend:

1) Went to big Italian dinner with entire family (the tablecloth is paper and there are crayons provided)
2) Draw silly pictures while eating giant amounts of pasta
3) Catch the eye of a server who somehow is glancing my way everytime I look up
4) Enjoy my prosecco and wine
5) Jokingly leave my phone number on the table (in crayon, nonetheless) and my future sister-in-law adds a 'wink' underneath it
6) 15 minutes later recieve a text message from unknown number asking if that wink was for him...

And thus begins the vomit-swoon reaction to messages recieved from said-mysterious server. (sidenote: before you start thinking that this is ridiculous and potentially stalkerish, don't you dare worry your pretty little face...I'm a big girl) 

'Sorry for not being able to take my eyes off you last night'
1)Vomit
2) Swoon
3) Giggle

'You have definitely made my month."
1)Vomit
2) Swoon

Is there a cure for the vomit-swoon?  I'm afraid this poor cynic will remain without a cure until the day a man kneels before her, at Disneyland, with 'Somewhere over the Rainbow' playing over loudspeakers, a light breeze sweeping through her hair on a bright sunny day, saying the words that every girl wants to hear...

nah, even then...vomit-swoon.

For the Introvert in You....

....Or for a little glimpse into my world.

http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2003/03/caring-for-your-introvert/2696/%22

Word Origins

Do you know why the Brits call the bathroom the 'loo'? 

Or why they call it the water closet?

The toilet was essentially in an indoor outhouse, with water.  Very observant people.

Loo comes from the French...'l'eau', meaning water.

Over time, "To the l'eau" was said faster and faster,

Eventually becoming "Toodaloo"

Therefore, when someone is departing your presence and signs off with "Toodaloo"

You should laugh and say, "Thanks for sharing!"

Mumbles

What, Mumbles? 

This is a response I receive on a daily basis from a few of my coworkers.  Apparently I mumble, quite frequently, and hence have a new nickname.  Mumbles.

Where does mumbling come from?  Is it a lack of proper training in enunciation and pronunciation?  A lack of confidence?  Years of being shy?  Clumsiness?  Too many thoughts trying to get out at once?

I'm going to elaborate on the last one and explain why I think I mumble so much.  I tend to go through periods of silence...not on purpose per se.  But there are days when I will go hours without speaking to anyone, not even a friendly hello to someone on the street....just silence, me, and my thoughts.  It's amazing to think that this can happen at work but it's entirely true.  Periods of silence just mulling over work, friends, problems, life...the usual monotony and longing for spontaneity.

Therefore, when I finally do break out of my silence it's like every single thought floating in my head is fighting to get out, but I find myself speaking quietly so as to not just walk up to someone and start yelling.  (I'm getting an image of myself as I'm writing this and it kinda sounds like I wander around to myself and mumble silently...perhaps I need to paint a better picture).

I do not mumble to myself...I only mumble to other people.  For instance, the girl who sits behind me at work - (and yes, due to space issues, she is honestly 3 feet behind me) - will often hit the back of my chair to get my attention prior to asking me a question.  This will catch me off guard, scramble the thoughts in my head, and as I try to form a coherent thought, I end up forming a completely articulate thought in my head but turning it into a mumbling mess.  Almost as though I have so many things to say and I don't feel like I will have enough time to say them all before I forget.

And then I digress...

I wonder if there have been a lot of missed opportunities because of mumbles.  Have I ever mumbled my way through a thought and when asked to repeat it, change my entire meaning?  It might even be a defense mechanism...And maybe not all missed opportunities either, as it might just be a lifesaver for that time when I mumble something that could have severely insulted someone, which of course, doesn't happen often.  Or it could almost be that mentality of ripping of a bandaid.  Say it quick and fast to ease the pain.  If the person understand it - good for them...if they don't - good for you.  Start all over again.

Any attempt I make to determine the cause or reasoning behind the mumbles will fall on deaf ears because at some point tomorrow, I will still most certainly hear:

What, Mumbles?

Running.

 I would go for a run everyday if it was always this beautiful.  The best part about this was that I started my run in the humid rain, but by the time I made it to the steps, the sun was shining in all its glory. 

Letting all the thoughts of the day behind in the dust to burden someone else. 

She wakes up to a storm in the early morning hours as a warm breeze sweeps across her face, the sheet music flies off the piano and floats about the room before settling on  her curling toes.  The blinds hurtle against the window pane as the rain patters with a tap, tap, tap against her skylight...lulling her back to sleep.

A fly on the wall...

Just a fly at the window pane
Next to an open door
Gazing upon the world he knows
Not able to get out
This glass is not impenetrable
or is it?

Whores Devores

Amidst all of this philosophizing, I have my moments of sheer stupidity and weakness.

I was reading an invite to a cocktail party and got to the word 'hors d'oeuvres'.  I have come across this word many times in my life and usually just skim over it. 

Anyways, in the company of friends, here was the interaction:

Lucy: Oh fun, a cocktail party - says they'll have wine, beer, and...whores devores? How do you say that word? I never know how.

Friend: Let me see it....Lucy, that's... (and of course they say the correct pronunciation)

And upon seeing my sheer stupidity, they cannot contain their laughter.

Friend: Seriously, how did you think it was spelled?

Lucy: I don't know, I just usually spell out appetizer.

Sad but true that I did not know that these two things were one in the same.  Next time you come over to my house, I'll make you some tasty whores devores.

You want to know what I'm really thinking??

This week has been one for the books and yet, I haven't been able to form a single coherent thought to put down on paper.  It's interesting that I know writing is cathartic for me yet I often shy away from the pen when I am having a rough time.  I don't even know where these feelings are coming from, which (let's face it) is all too common in my life.

All too common....

Oh, how I long for the common theme in my life to be an understanding of the ever-flowing thoughts in my head.  If I could have a monkey-scribe sit on my shoulder to write down my thoughts, I would probably be a little better off...plus, I would have a monkey-scribe.  Bonus points.

It has recently been revealed to me that I have a philosopher's brain.  What does that mean?  In a nutshell, it means that daily I am grappling with the meaning of my existence.  I ponder every sound, emotion, action, feeling, sight, and wonder why it happened the way it did or weigh the endless possibilities of their existence.  Endless possibilities that I may never accept as truth.  Because if I am constantly searching for other possibilities, how will I ever see light and truth?

I wonder if I am meant for something bigger than even I can fathom.  Am I meant solely to be Lucy Jane Stoner Brittin?  Am I not meant to do but meant to be?  An existence for the sake of existing, a wandering soul full of questions and seeking answers which I may never find?

My mind never stops...never.

When I am put in a situation, and it can be any situation, I sit with my introspective-self.  I may be alone, looking at the wind blowing through the leaves of a tree and wonder what else that gust has seen.  How many mountains has it rolled over or how did it caress a person's face a thousand miles away?  What did they feel when it hit them?  Did someone's previous reaction to that very gust impact the next?

This is me...this is all of me (well, not really all, but you might get it eventually).  This is the way my brain works and I am left with only the emotions of which I am capable to help cope.  And if the universe has this life set up for me, then so be it...

So next time you see me walking down the street and I'm in my own little world, wandering around with that ever-so serious face of mine...you may think I'm in a bad mood, that there's something wrong, or maybe that I'm just a mean person...but if you see me...ask me about the wind and maybe, just maybe, I'll tell you a story about the gust that spanned a thousand years.

A look in the past.

It has been a week of struggle and elation, despair and decisiveness, hearth-fires and holocausts, the voice of doom and a hint of reproach.  what exactly brought this on is yet to be determined, but it is not something that should be so easily forgotten. The mind works in mysterious ways and mine seems to be a mystery, even to me.  No two souls, hearts, or minds are alike.  People do not always understand one another, but maybe that is not what is meant to be.  We are build differently on purpose, yet there seems to be no rhyme or reason.  And that....is okay.

How can I attempt to understand myself when I do not understand the complexities, intricacies, and mysteries of my surrounding environment? But that is life and what is life except for the biggest lesson of all to learn?  Some find the answer right away, but who's to say the answer is not up for interpretation? If I can change, my body can change and my heart can change, then everything must be able to change at some point.

The past is set, the present is here and the future is up for your interpretation...interpret it the way you see fit...see where you end up.