Sex, Marriage, & Fairytales || Spoken Word

xo-ashleigh

Grandmothers Advice.

There's no doubt about it-breakups suck. But in the first few hours or days or weeks that follow, there's one important truth you need to recognize: Some things can't and shouldn't be fixed, especially that loser who dumped you or forced you to dump him. It's over for a reason, and deep down inside you probably know what that reason is.

At the end of the day, it's about weather YOU like yourself enough to face the reality that your romance wasn't working.. to recognize that it wasn't giving you what you needed and deserved

Life's biggest rewards come from the biggest challenges.

Anyone who assesses you or your relationship as "disposable" is not worthy of your time or tears.

Just remember, though, that any reasons you come up with are ultimately irrelevant. The harsh reality is that even if you have EVERYTHING else in common, the one thing you don't have in common is the belief that this relationship can work. & that alone trumps your shared love of puppies, The Dave Matthews Band, and Mexican food.

A lot of the pain you are experiencing right now is actually fear. Fear of things being different then how you liked them, fear of never finding love again, fear of being alone, fear of having to fill your time differently. We're afraid of the unknown.

The person you loved took a good long look at the awesomeness that is you, evaluated your relationship together, and said, "No, thanks. I'll try my luck elsewhere." Or you said it to him. Either way, that alone should make you realize that it wasn't a match made in heaven

"I don't know" means "NO!"
"I don't know" means "I'm too cowardly to tell you the truth because I can't deal with confrontation."
"I don't know" means please do the dirty work for me because I don't want to hurt your feelings even more then I already have.

Awesome thought: The annoying thing that your ex did will never bother you again. I'm sure that your plan to get him back worked out in your head. I'm even sure that it worked out in some movie you saw. But your ex does not have the time to follow a movie script and you shouldn't either. Move on.

Every moment of pain, weakness, and discomfort puts you in a position to choose how you will react and how you will alleviate your condition. Calling him doesn't make it better.. it only pulls you back into the cycle of heartbreak.
He is the past. You are the future.

Messing up his life isn't the best revenge. It's getting on with yours and living it to the fullest.

One of the suckiest and most frustrating facts of life is that sometimes rela­tionships just end, often without reason. I truly believe that some­times both men and women simply run out of love, even when there was a lot of it in the beginning.

Before you look for validation in others, try and find it in yourself.

As much as it sucks, you need to FORCE yourself to remember your very worst times together, ..his most irritating habits and the hard truth that not only can he live without you.. but he'd rather.

You're giving an okay guy who cheats on his girlfriend a hell of a lot more credit then he deserves. He's a coward and a betrayer of not one but TWO women. He clearly feels ambivalent about you at best.. otherwise, he would have left this other woman a long time ago.

So many of us find ourselves saying "BUT HE WAS SO GREAT!" Yes, and the people who got on the Titanic thought they were going on vacation. Things changed and it's important to remember that they did.

Awesome thought: The right guy is out there right now, wondering when he's going meet someone just like you.

His regrets or lack thereof are exactly that- his . and not even the best little black cocktail dress can change that.

Every time you see him, you only make yourself vulnerable to further heartache. Do you really need further proof that he's getting on with his life without you?

The one who dumped you has had a huge head start on the healing. However long he entertained ending the relationship is also how long he's been emotionally extracting himself from you.

He was either partially or totally over it before you even knew it was going down

You weren't in the same relationship. That should answer ALL your questions.

You can love your friends.. ..you can love your family ... you can even love every stray dog or stray drummer that crosses your path. HOWEVER, you have to learn how to love yourself, like yourself, and put yourself first before you will ever find the healthy, loving, and lasting relationship that you've been looking for.

xo-ashleigh

A Woman Should...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE

...one old love she can imagine going back to... and one who reminds her how far she has come...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE

...enough money within her control to move out and rent a place of her own even if she never wants to or needs to...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE

.. something perfect to wear if the employer or date of her dreams wants to see her in an hour...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE

.. a youth she's content to leave behind...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE

...a past juicy enough that she's looking forward to retelling it in her old age....

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE

...a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE

..one friend who always makes her laugh ... and one who lets her cry...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE

...a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her family...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE

...eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems, and a recipe for a meal that will make her guests feel honored.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE

...a feeling of control over her destiny...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...

....how to fall in love without losing herself...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...

..how to quit a job, break up with a lover, and confront a friend without ruining the friendship...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...

...when to try harder ... and when to walk away...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...

....that she can't change the length of her calves, the width of her hips, or the nature of her

parents...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...

...that her childhood may not have been perfect...but its over...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...

...what she would and wouldn't do for love or more...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...

..how to live alone... even if she doesn't like it...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...

...whom she can trust, whom she can't, and why she shouldn't take it personally...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...

...where to go... be it to her best friend's kitchen table... or a charming inn in the woods... when her soul needs soothing...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...

.. what she can and can't accomplish in a day... a month...and a year...

-ashleigh

Landing on My Feet

When a person hears the word cancer many thoughts instantly come to mind. If diagnosed with the illness, usually the first response is fight or flight mode. When our natural fight or flight response is activated, sequences of nerve cell firing occur and chemicals like adrenaline, noradrenaline and cortisol are released into our bloodstream. These patterns of nerve cell firing and chemical release cause our body to undergo a series of very dramatic changes. Our respiratory rate increases. Blood is shunted away from our digestive tract and directed into our muscles and limbs, which require extra energy and fuel for running and fighting. Our pupils dilate. Our awareness intensifies. Our sight sharpens. Our impulses quicken. Our perception of pain diminishes. Our immune system mobilizes with increased activation. We become prepared—physically and psychologically—for fight or flight.

We scan and search our environment, "looking for the enemy." Our fight or flight response is designed to protect us from the proverbial saber tooth tigers that once lurked in the woods and fields around us, threatening our physical survival. At times when our actual physical survival is threatened, there is no greater response to have on our side. When activated, the fight or flight response causes a surge of adrenaline and other stress hormones to pump through our body. This surge is the force responsible for mothers lifting cars off their trapped children and for firemen heroically running into blazing houses to save endangered victims. The surge of adrenaline imbues us with heroism and courage at times when we are called upon to protect and defend the lives and values we cherish. When our personal saber tooth tigers come lurking out of the woods, disguised in many different mask. We automatically go into the mode of either we are going to fight making us a survivor or flee and act like we never saw the monster.

When we flee, we can run for years and never realize how far we have ran. We may see our saber tooth tigers repeatedly throughout our race- but one things for sure we always have the perceived saber tooth in the back of our heads haunting us. Our Saber tooth tigers as a female can be masked in a stressful day at work, being diagnosed with cancer or other illnesses, a traffic incident, and then there is the one eyed one horn domestic violence. However, just like a person on a death bead in the end stages of life, we shut down. We become hopeless, helpless, and we can't see our way out. Therefore, we just lay there and sulk becoming defeated.

If I could relate anything to domestic violence I would relate it to being diagnosed with cancer. Not everyone is effected by it and not everyone is diagnosed with it. But, the reality is statistics are both extremely high. In America, when someone is diagnosed with cancer that is unrelated, many of our responses are calloused. We say our "oohs and ah's and Bless his/her hearts" and go on about our day because we selfishly were not affected by the tragedy. Just like calloused hands of an old mill worker, eventually blisters will not affect him as he works because the callous has hardened his hands. As American's we have the highest rates of domestic violence, but how many people knew that? Did you know that, every nine seconds, a woman is battered by in the United States by her husband, boyfriend, or live-in partner? Or that, approximately 8.8 million children witness domestic violence each year. Of men who abuse women, 40-60% abuse children as well. Nearly one in five teenage girls report that a boyfriend threatened violence or self-harm when presented with a breakup. 1 in 3 teenagers report knowing a friend or peer who has been hit, punched, kicked, slapped, choked or physically hurt by their partner.

We as American's perceive Domestic Violence as a personal rather a social problem. Which I believe is just simply another characteristic of a selfish society. The truth is, until your affected by it- you don't really care. You may offer you condolences and "I'm here if you need me's," but do we really try to stop it? Domestic Violence is a broad scope of verbal and physical abuse. If you are affected. You either decide to become a statistic and automatically go into the American label of "battered women" or you take action just like you would if you were diagnosed with a deadly disease and become a survivor.

That label is something I never thought I'd wear. I wore the label and wore it out. For years, I was a victim. I instinctively without realizing chose toxic relationships. I didn't take action. I accepted the violence as a part of life and continued to go along my every day activities covering my wounds with the band-aids of good time and a fake smile. I for years felt like my life was in a glass trap. I could see out- but I never could break through the barrier and get out. Like real sores and cuts in life, the best healing is the fresh air. Uncovering a band-aid and letting nature run its course. Finally, I took one hit too many. I saw myself change after a DV attack one night. But, I still ended up eventually choosing another toxic relationship relapsing again into the spirals of another bad domestic violence habits. I thought, like many women, that men were supposed to take control. To be the head. But, never did I realize until I grew from my situations that relationships were meant to be way more than a dominion. That a relationship was about love and not drama if you will- that God really had the marriage covenant for a reason to protect us.

I look back on the past two years of my life and realize that God placed and took out many people to teach me life lessons that I needed to learn in order to reach the summit of my mountain. For years, I clung to a boulder on the side of my mountain after passing through a wilderness of preparation for my change. But, after finally having the faith, friends, and a active support network, I managed to get pass the boulder, climb to the top of my mountain, and now look at the summit. I still have a hard time breathing the fresh air and still have a few hoops to finish going through. But, I can see the finish line of this growing experience and I am happy to say that I am totally not the same person I was two years ago to even two months ago. God is all about timing, despite the obstacles and leaps in life. He always has a message in every situation. With broken ribs and a broken jaw and many painful bruises... I never saw it coming, I never knew I could, some how I managed to jump off the cliff & land on my feet.

-ashleigh

Thirst.

When was the last time you were actually thirsty? Take just a second and remember the feeling-the sheer desperation of needing something to quench your thirst. It brings to mind the image of a lone traveler in a desert gazing into the horizon in search for a cool spring. I've never had to crawl across a desert, but I think the thirstiest I'd ever been was when I was in highschool after a soccer tournament in the beginning of Summer. I played soccer for a team in Birmingham and we had a 4 game tournament starting at 7am on a Saturday. It was sweltering hot outside. The heat alone was one factor, but, also the activities of constant running as a wing and striker on soccer field was another. I also at this time had an eating disorder and was severly dehydrated from laxative abuse -by midafternoon my throat was raw and lips were cracked. On multiple occasions I remember running to the sidelines to the community water bottles the coach provided and drinking from them because my thirst was so painful.
One of the coaches would run up and down the sidelines with the community water bottles bearing cold water to the players. One of the particular games I remember running to the side lines and the water cooler being gone. The only thing to drink was one of the players had a hot, syrupy Dr. Pepper in her bag. I took the Dr. Pepper- it could be worse like grape soda- and in my moment of desperation tilted my head back and took a long drink. For a minute, my need was gone. But just as quickly, my thirst was back and raging with a vengeance. Only one thing was going to satisfy and that was the genuine article: H2O, I was in desperate need of the real thing.







As I think about how intense my thirst was that long, hot day, I cannot help but see the similarity between my body's thirst for real water and my soul's thirst for God. But, just like settling for a hot soda instead of a cool, refreshing water, for years I settled for what I hoped would satisfy my thirst: a man. So time and time again, I hoped a relationship would fulfill the deepest longings in my soul-- but like the hot soda, the hot guy worked for a moment, but in the end I was left parched.







Relationships:







Let me explain. Relationships can be amazing, especially at the beginning--they hold so much promise. You meet a guy, and if there's actually a connection-or as Carrie Bradshaw would say "za za zoom"-- there is so much hope and excitement when you two first start hanging out. Often we enter these relationships with a secret thirst, not a physical one, but our souls are thirsty and we hope certain needs will be quenched in the relationship.



We come into a relationship hoping to feel that we belong to someone. And for a season, we do feel that way. There's that rush that happens when we walk down the street hand in hand or the joy of having a date for our office Christmas party- or just the fill in the blank for your particular I-can't-go-alone event. The confident feeling that says, "I'm with someone" makes us feel important, special, and desired.



We also come into relationships with the hope of finding acceptance - someone who will love us, as one of my favorite movie lines, "Just the way you are" (Thank you very much Bridgette Jones.) We hope the nagging questions about our worth, our lovability, and all those pesky self-doubts will be removed with the mere presence of another.







Many of us enter into a relationship and think, Security at last! Finally, someone who will make everything OK, I'm not alone anymore. Perhaps subconsciously we believe we've found someone who will take care of us and meet all of our needs.







And last, but certainly not least, we come into relationships with a deep thirst for completion. This is the hope that someone else will fill our emptiness and drive away the lonliness. Oh yes, romantic love comes in a rush, and lets face it... romance is a rush. But there still comes a day when we wake up and realize, "I'm still empty." We still don't feel all that secure. For some reason we don't feel loved. And even if there is a head on the pillow next to ours, we can still feel completely alone.



Simply put we come into relationships looking for unconditional love. But can this love be found in any human relationship? Or better yet, are human relationships enough to satisfy the thirst of our souls for belonging, security, acceptance, and completion? Can boyfriends or husbands banish all of our insecurities and make us feel whole and complete? I would suggest the answer is no.







For many women the dissapointment can lead to disillusionment--is the love my heart thirst for really available? Disillusionment can send some women into depression and even others into divorce. I'm serious here. Think about it. If I enter a relationship with the expectation that this guy is going to fill my sould and drive away all my insecurities, what happens when he fails? Does that mean I married the wrong guy? Does that mean I haven't found "the one"? Granted, there are reasonable expectations we should hold as a part of being in a healthy relationship-one in which both parties are concerned with meeting the other person's needs. And if a man is a real man, he will be concerned with making his girl feel secure, accepted, and loved. But the point is this: even the best guy, on his best day, can only go so far. There will always remain a place, unreachable by flowers and kisses, that belongs to God alone; and it is this place, the God-Spot that our deepest thirst is found. And until that place is filled by God Himself, all the romance in the world will never satisfy. One stop at your local grocery store will confirm this truth. Pick up People, Us Weekly, or and other celebrity gossip magazines, and you will find tales of souls searching for love. Our addiction to these publications is fueled by who's dating whom,who's getting divorced, and why-did-so-and-so-leave-her-latest-soul-mate drama. When the celebrity relationship begins, each party is gushing to the world as to how they've found the one, the love of their lives. But then no sooner than you've thrown out the last weekly edition, the celebrity has moved on to someone new, someone who will hopefully, this time, meet all her needs and quench the thirst.



It goes without saying that Carrie Bradshaw,Sex & the City character typifies the lovelorn woman best. Throughout the six seasons, Carrie's love life is the central focus of the show's plotline. Her hopes, dreams, and disapointments fuel much of Sex and the Cities success with women everywhere. Why do women love Carrie? Is it just her love for shoes? Is is the fashion? Perhaps, but I think the real reason we love Carrie is we identify with her struggles, her desires, and her hope to find real love.



In the final two episodes of Sex and the City, Carrie's search for love has led her from comfy confines of her New York City apartment across the Atlantic ocean to an exquisite hotel room in Paris to be with her current "luvah," Alexander Pertrovsky. In what one of the most dramatic moments in the six seasons of Sex and the City, Miss Bradshaw confesses the ultimate desire of her heart:




I'm looking for love, Real love. Ridiculous. inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love, And I don't think that love is here in this expensive suite in this lovely hotel in Paris.

Season 6, episode 94




With these words Carrie ends her love affair with The Russian, who is yet another dissapointment in her quest to find "real love." If you've ever seen this episode, you probably felt the weight of Carrie's dissapointment. Carrie kissed her friends good-bye and left life in New York behinf... and for what? Yet another failed relationship. She's broken and hurting-her heart is ripped open-and we wonder if she will ever find what she is looking for. Mr. Big, who is now miraculously ready to commit to a relations. True to Hollywood form, the final season reveals a carefree Carrie, strolling fown the streets of her beloved NYC ansering a call from her love, Mr. Big, whose name we finally learn is John. The two are now living happily-ever-after....or so it seems.







The girls of Sex and the City are no different from the rest of us; they, too, have a deep thirst that only God can quench. They crave real love. But their thirst cannot be quenchs by Cosmos, and their cravings can't be satisfied by cupcakes. They long to feel acceptance and to know the security of uncondional love. But, what they don't know is what this real love is and where it is ultimately found. As we all eventually find out, cosmos and cupcakes, martini's and men, will leave you as hung over, overweight, and undermined. Our purest form of self becomes and intoxicated essence that reeks of habitual mistakes and continual longings. Unfulfilled desires perpetrate exhausting journeys into emptinees. Empty glass, empty arms, and empty hearts.


-ashleigh

Maggie On the Rocks

Most of you know I use my blog to post some of my freelance devotions/ life stories/ lessons learned etc. But, today I needed to vent.. so I figured I'd use this as my outlet. So, I want to share with you the story of how Vodka, TLC, and Ringers Lactate worked their magic into making my precious dog Maggie comfortable during her last days.

Maggie is part red nose pit and part lab... I'd never had a shelter pet before most of our dogs growing up just randomly showed up at our house. But, I'd wanted a full blooded mastiff- but with my recent job lay off I couldn't afford to fork out the cost. I was at a point in my life where I needed to get a dog before life got me. Yep, that is right folks, call it what you want-but I purchased a friend.. Little did I know this would be the best decision of my life.

It was right around Christmas time when I made my first steps into an animal shelter. I walked straight through the cat section right into the canine barking room filled with the aroma of clorox, urine, and an old ceiling heater as I began to look for my new best friend. I went in looking for a long haired, big (would grow big), male pup that I could take home.. I made my way into the kennells and saw a dog named Bailey who put his paw up on the chain length fence and doggy high fived me as he tilted his head, I thought "Maybe he is choosing me.. hmm.. He really is adorable.." I continued walking and right around isle two... third kennell down from the left sitting near a huge coon dog named "Red" a dog named Skittles who was sad and covered with the mange was sitting in a sulk.. I stared at her as I turned around to look at the kennell of frantic rottweilers barking so loudly at me I could barely think. I went back to Bailey who was now playing with a very attractive-kinda my age range -I had a potential I could date him thought- guy. As I suddenly thought "How great would this story be... We meet at a humane society, both wanting the same dog... exchanged numbers.. we lived happily ever after with our cute dog Bailey... etc.. totally didn't happen. But, hey I did look cute this day... So I went up to Baileys kennell and said "your not getting my dog are you?" He laughes and says, "He's adorable, and seems playfull- He'd be great for my kids." ----EEEEEHHHRR buzzer went off -as I tried to not show the dissapointment in my face, I said "yeah, he's cute. I was going to get him, but you probably should take him home." Yep, that guy straight up didn't argue- no if's ands or but's- he took Bailey home.



Thinking, this may not be a great idea after all...I continued to walk around pacing the isles looking for the attention of a canine. There I began to consider two dogs... neither of them were My Maggie. But, when I looked at Skittles,I began to read her story.. She was only 3 months old and had been brought to Shelby Humane Shelter when she was around 1 1/2 months. She was covered in mange and had a terrible case of IBS. She came from a blood line of red nose pits and labs that were bred into fighting dogs use to fight boars. Skittles was the sick one who some how managed to survive a terrible home at which her brothers and sisters were killed. Her owners were being placed under numerous charges for dog fighting. I immediately related to her on many levels. One, I just had been diagnosed with gluten allergies which isn't good on someones stomach until you know what foods to avoid... check. Two, she had mange... Gluten allergies also give me a bad case of exzema...check. Three, I had just gone through a very very hard time in my life that thinking about it brings tears to my eyes, and I too could relate to her depression. So I thought.. "Maybe we can help each other."Sold. I walked right back up there filled out the papers and took my new girl home. I changed her name to Maggie... I didn't know until this week when google'ing her name meaning that Maggie meant Pearl... which a pearl is a beautiful thing produced by the result of an injured life. It is the tear that is the result from an injured oyster. If we had not been wounded, if we had not been injured we would never produce a pearl. At the time, I didn't realize the meaning fit, but she looked like a Maggie, and so be it.. Her papers changed from Skittles the homeless pup to Maggie Mae Finn.

After bringing her home I went throught two tough weeks of crate training and two days of new environment diarrhea with her (thank you IBS). I bathed her weekly, got her cute clothes, and walked her everyday to ensure that she had healthy weight gain.. Maggie helped me get out of my depression, get out of the house, and get outside and move. On Sunday afternoons, we would go to Mt. Cheaha until she met a frisky doberman pincher on one of the trails. It wasn't soon after that we decided to change a less outdoor scene and just go to the dog park. Within three weeks her coat was growing into a healthy shine, free of mange, and her stomach was not irritable. Every night we had a routine. She'd sit with me on the couch as we watched reality tv, until it was time to go outside. Around 9:00pm she would go get her leash (she was easy to train) bring it to me and we'd go outside for her night time poddy. Then, she'd sit in the bathroom floor as she watched me do my skin care regimen and brush my teeth, & as soon as the bathroom light was off she'd jump in the bed slidding to her puppy pillow and placing her right paw on me she would sleep through the night.

It wasn't until July 1st, 2011 when Maggie got sick with an upset stomach. Since she is known to have a rumbly tummy,I gave her a fourth of a phenergen like usual because her vomiting wasn't uncommon. The next day when it continued I called her vet to see if he could meet me on the weekend of the fourth. He did, took one look at her and said she's had a stroke gave me a bill and sent me on.

Things continued to worsen over the span of two days. Maggie is a very obedient dog and always turns and comes on command. She now did nothing but stare at my oven for hours-not turning as I called her name. I would physically have to make her sit because she would just stand there. When she walked her hind legs would collapse -even though she was trying with great effort to be strong for me. Her vomit now turned into bile over Monday and on Tuesday we made another vet visit with a new vet in Harpersville. At this point, Mag's hadn't ate in 4 days nor had any urine output.. The doctor said on Tuesday that her labs showed that she was in renal failure and the only chance I had was IV fluid therapy and prayer. After being monitored, Maggie's blood results come back that she's been given a lethal As I sat in the "cat"room with Maggie by my side sitting up right and tense after not being around me for 8 hours and a huge stainless table.. I began to cry... hard. I find out she's been shot in the stomach (could have been prior to Shelter) and given anti freeze. The vet wanted to put her down on Tuesday, but I asked to take Mags home to see what I could do. I knew that if I left Maggie at the vet clinic she would go into failure to thrive because she is super hard headed when I am not around. I took her home heplocked her in the right left and gave her 300ml ringers lactate every 2-4 hourse. Every hour, I'd give her a shot of vodka which is the antidote to antifreeze, if caught soon enough.

The first two days I did nothing but bolus her with IV fluids and she soon started gaining strength and even started back urinating by the very next day. The color was now back in her coat and she was looking so much better. On Thursday, I took Maggie back to the vet to get another set of labs drawn to check her kidney functions to see if they had began to lower. After returning to work on Thursday my mind was elsewhere and worried. Around 10:45am I called the vet since she hadn't called me in the hour like she said she would and asked. Her words were, "we just finished the blood work and unfortunately I hate to tell you but her Creatinine and BUN levels were higher and she recommends the dog be euthanized." I began to cry as she scheduled Maggies death for 1:00 pm the next day. I cried so hard I ended up having to go to my bosses office asking if I could take an hour and half lunch to go home.

I came back home from work, and Maggie was at the door greeting me with a wagging tail even with low energy. I put her out some fresh water, and immediately she goes to it and begins to drink for the first time in 10 days. After two dog bowls of spring water later, Maggie jumps on the couch with me for our nightly tv run down.. We went that afternoon to meet one of my friends who had made Maggie a Care package at the local walking track. By Friday afternoon, My Maggie had ate her first bowl of doggie food and was begging for more.. Words can not express to you the excitement that I had seeing her eat for the first time in almost two weeks.

I took Maggie's hep-lock out yesterday and have not given her any more fluids since Friday. She is still happy, seems to not be in good spirits. She is urinating mass amount of urine every hour and will lay in it all day if I do not make her get up and move. Maggie is now in God's hands and fighting on her own. I've never been more thankful for total strangers who I met and heard about Maggie, and for my facebook friends who became my prayer warriors. Maggie didn't give up on me when I was going through the worst time in my life & I am not giving up on her. I work for hospice. Where doctors tell our patients they are terminal all the time, and we have a 108 year old patient who is out in the garden. When Maggie is ready, she will be ready. Until, then I am watching the most wonderful dog fight death with all her might! She loves life. Loves me. and She doesn't give up. I've learned so many lessons in watching her of the past two weeks than I have learned in a long time. Life isn't about circumstance, its about perception, grabbing the bull by the horn and telling him what you want.

too be continued...

Bridezilla

"You know when you were a little kid, & you believed in fairy tales, that fantasy of what your life would be, white dress, prince charming who would carry you away to that castle on a hill. You would lie in bed at night, and close your eyes, and you had complete and utter faith, Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, Prince Charming, they were so close you could taste them. But, eventually you grow up.One day you open your eyes and the fairy tale dissapears. Most people turn to the thing or the people they can trust. But, the thing is, its hard to let go of that fairy tale entirely. Because, almost everyone has just the smallest bit of hope, of faith, that one day they will open their eyes and it will come true."-Meridith Grey

So obviously none of us are living under rocks.. we are all aware that today was the most romantic fairy tale... The Royal Wedding! The commoner, Kate Middleton, a coal miners great- grand-daughter recieved her Happy Ever After and is now living a little higher on the hog as we Alabamian's say. Yes, I was one of the many American's who woke up at 4am to watch the Wedding as a donned my big hat drinking coffee so that I could pay attention to every detail. I cried. I smiled. and I prayed that one day my left hand finger wouldn't feel so cold. After hour and hours of television airing the Royal Wedding as if it were the Holy Grail I became a little sick of it. Yes, it was romantic. I get their royalty. But, News flash to all you news broadcasting stations: "All the single ladies" are sick of it.

My favorite television show is Sex and the City, Charlotte York is a woman who knows exactly what she wants. Carrie once said, " Charlotte treated marriage like a sorority she was always hoping to pledge." She, far more than any other character on the series of Sex & the City, desired a husband. Not just any husband, but the One, her soul mate, Mr. Right, the one whom she will live happily ever after. Charlotte wants the fairy tale, and she is not ashamed about it. I remember in one particular episode she decided that this is the year which she is going to get married. Now, we may laugh at Charlottes dating tactics, or roll our eyes like Miranda; but, the truth is deep down we at some point have gone on a man hunt. As much as Charlotte's desperation is embarrassing for my gender. I recall a season at which I did a little man hunting of my own. I'd like to take a trip down memory lane, into my Sex and the City past, as I recall a little "hunting season" of my own.

Music Blaring and drinks flowing, the pre-party to the evenings man hunt was now my ritual. The first order of business: alcohol. Typically, a night on the town with the girls began with drinking at home in order to be fun and friendly when you actually arrived at the bar. But far more important than the drinking, the biggest decision of all must be made... what to wear. This is huge, really. So much is at stake. Seriously, more time is spent going into the decision than most of us spent on deciding which college to attend. So from this brain trust arose carefully crafted ensembles- pulled together from the various wardrobes and push-up bras on hand to form for each girl the ultimate man-hunting outfit.

After choosing the perfect outfit, we moved onto the next order of business: where should we go hunting tonight? To a dance club, rave, a house party, or just a regular bar... so many options. Some nights it depended on our mood, and other nights it depended on who was going to be where. But really at the end it was a simple formula:

single guys+(free) alcohol= desired hunting ground.

The higher a place scored using this finely tuned formula, the more likely it was that you would find us flocking to this location like bears to honey.

I find it quit ironic that bars are the number one place people go to in hopes of finding love-- the irony being that bars are the place you go to drink. I wonder... is there a connection? Why is it that where people go to satisfy a physical thirst, you have people flocking to find a solution to a much deeper thirst, their thirst for love? Hmm... thoughts to ponder.

As we eventually find out, cosmos and cupcakes, martinis and men, will leave us hung over, overweight, and undermined. Our purest form of self becomes an intoxicated essence that reeks of habitual mistakes and continual longings. Empty glasses, empty arms, empty hearts. Here's the catch, there comes a day in every romance when the buzz wears off. Endorphins stabilize, rational thinking returns, and the bliss for romantic love turns into grocery store shopping, paying bills, and changing diapers. Girls, our souls don't need mates. Our souls need their Maker.

I've come to realize that as single women we can fall prey to the grass is greener mentality by thinking, If only I were married, then I wouldn't feel so lonely or empty inside. Little do we know how far from the truth this thought really is. Marriage doesn't make you happy, It just makes you married.

Like Charlotte, I am a single woman. I have an incredible life. I have the best friends a woman could ever dream of. Ive been blessed to be able to travel to beautiful places. And all my essential needs are met: food, shelter, transportation, clothing, shoes (sandals, stilletos, running, flats, kitten heels, platforms, wedges), boots ( flats, heels, cowboy, tall, ankle, scrunch, riding), and handbags. But, despite all of these things I would be lying to you if I didn't confess there is something I don't have that I truly desire. I don't have a husband or even close. have a fiance... When I plan my calender and think of the future, it's just me. Holidays, hurricanes, tornados, couple events, tax forms, car problems, birthday parties, and the list could go on and on. There are times when my desire is so real it's palpable. The desire can at times turn to pain, but through it all I've learned the secret of contentment.

As a single girl, there are two truths that I must hold in balance in order to be content. First, God created me for relationship, so my desire for a husband is not wrong it is good. Second, even though I was designed to be in relationship, my ultimate contentment, satisfaction, and happiness will never be achieved simply through human relationship. I was designed for something far bigger, far greater, something far more satisfying. A true 200 proof shot of Jesus Christ will always quench my thirst.