Tag Archives: DPchallenge

Heartbreak Sweethearts

Heartbreak Sweethearts.Many many years ago in a small town not too far away lived three best friends. No not Larry, Moe, and Curly, but Tweedle-Dee, Tweedle-Dumb, and Tweedle-Stupid. The three loudest and craziest NKOTB, also known as New Kids on the Block, fans that you could ever hope to find.

We most literally joined ourselves at the hips most weekends. Walking arms linked, crossing leg over leg over leg, singing, “Hey, Hey we’re the Monkeys.” Or bouncing and bebopping around singing NKOTB songs. Wandering stores walking up to strangers asking, “Where’s Bubba? Have you seen Bubba?” Trying to keep a straight face as we talked in the silly voices and gave a description of our missing imaginary “Bubba”.

We shared the off-key dream of becoming the next girl band, of course to tour with our successful and dreamy husbands, Donnie, Danny, and Jordan, or which three we chose that week. Sometimes going a month or two without changing our favorite, then we knew it was true undying love.

Our group name The Heartbreak Sweethearts. We spent hours practicing into microphones AKA hair brushes in my room or the room of one of my “band mates.” We still have the VHS and cassette recordings to prove it. I would say it is blackmail, but I think we all three love the memories and the laughter incited by it, that I could never be blackmail.

It was such a fun time.

Once we even attempted a rap song. Calling ourselves, get this…DaMob.. So the rap went. (I’ll try to type it out how we sang it beat wise.)

Yo we DaMob
We got somethin’
To Say

We gonna
Teach you
How to par~ty
In a brand new way

You think alcohol and drugs
Are the way to go
Well life is much easier
If you
JUST — SAY — NO!!!!

It was so funny, but it was also something we lived by. We had good clean and crazy fun. We were cool like that.

So the Daily Post Challenge is to take you to where I spent my sixteenth birthday? To come along you must wear stone washed jeans, yeah the kind that when you bought them you found the tiny sand and stones in the pockets. Now do not forget to roll-cuff your jeans tightly at the ankles. Also do not forget your white Keds and white socks. Just incase you are confused you can refer to the picture album cover above. This was taken the night of our party. Our faces have been blurred to protect us from the embarrassment of such fashion taboos.

Don’t worry it’s not requisite to wear NKOTB attire. We did and man were we proud. My sister made these shirts for us. I still have mine somewhere. She put our NKOTB nickname on the pocket. Mine was Cheese. (Which happened to be Donnie’s also. I always seemed to make my way back to Donnie. The bad boy.)

The music for the evening. You guessed it. We played so much New Kids, but we did share the night we a couple of other friends, male friends, so other music was mixed in to give some variety.

My Daddy brought and requested a specific song to dance with me, I am so bummed that none of us can remember the name of it. I called and asked my parents. I remember dancing and laughing with Daddy. He thought he was embarrassing me, but I thought it was great. I thought I would never forget the name of the song. I hope one day I will hear and remember it.

I hope that I have it in one of my journals. I do not think I wrote in my journal that night or the day after because I went to stay with Bec. Yeah, that joined at the hip thing. We often teased each other, “Okay, who’s turn is it to have the brain?”

Many memorable and amazing things happened that night or can be linked there. Sharing a dance with my Daddy at my 16th birthday, having both of my parents there, so very special.

Though dreams of singing stardom are long gone, the Heartbreak Sweethearts are still best friends after all these years, even adding a fourth to our group. Man is now married to the fella Bec was dating at our 16th, and they have two amazing and brilliant children. Bec is engaged to one of the guys that we shared our night with, one of our male best friends.

Wonderful things do happen on your sixteenth. Sometimes it might take years to see the fruits, but when it does it is magical.

Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh..Hangin’ Tough! Thanks for coming with on my trip down memory lane. ~Hope

Daily Post Prompt: Sixteen

Daily Prompt: My Four Legged Hero

photo

Meet Gidget.  I was just a tiny girl, and she a tiny pup when I she became part of our family. Hitting it off immediately, this little gal became my shadow.

Gidget was my best pal. To be such a small dog she was the absolute best a watch dog and protector. Often going nose to nose with large neighborhood bulldogs and shepherds that would come into our yard. She would send them running as she nipped on their heels with them running tails tucked as they left. I am sure they were getting an earful with her barking in the chase.  Once a Doberman jumped over the neighbors fence and came running after us.  Granny told us to run to the climbing tree.  Granny and Gidget stood ground, giving us time to climb the tree.  I do not remember the dog going home or what.  I just know we did not get eaten, neither did Granny or Gidget.

As fierce as she was protecting her us, she was that much more gentle towards us. I was fascinated with her swollen boobies after she had puppies. So one day I rolled her over and squeezed one of her boobies and looked in awe as milk came out. She just laid there. She would let me do anything to her.  Poor girl.

Gidget was so funny. I think she thought she was a human.  She loved our birthday parties. Whatever we did, she found herself in the middle of it. If we were chewing gum, Gidget was chewing gum. She however, loved to pull and stretch the gum with her paws and make a mess. One party favor that she really enjoyed was the parachute men. They were in cylinder tubes. You blow the tubes and the parachute man comes out and floats down. She had a tube in her mouth and tried to throw her head back, mimicking us. She was never able to get her parachute to fly. 🙂 But it was not from lack of trying.

I remember well the dark feeling that fell over my heart the day Gidget went missing. She had a litter of puppies under the house that needed feeding.  She never stayed away from her babies long, so we knew something was bad wrong for her to stay away.

We looked everywhere, and eventually found her at my neighbors. The night before their someone had broken into their home.  Gidget, we suppose, tried to protect our friends home, and was ran over. My heart was broken.

I miss that sweet girl, a hero of my youth.

Daily Prompt: Heroic

Daily Post Challenge: Where Do I Fit In?

Somewhere inside of me is the person that existed from 1994 – 1997, during that time I cared about who I was and who I wanted to be. No one pressured me to excercise, I would get off work put on my walking shoes and walk. It became a way of life for me. I lost weight and gain confidence. I enjoyed the beauties of nature as I walked by the Provo River. Sometimes I would begin down in southern Provo on a walking trail and walk to a small park with ducks, then turn around and head back, other times I would drive up into Provo Canyon and start walking at Vivian Park. The cool air refreshed my body as much as my soul. Sometimes I would walk alone, other times I would invite friends. It all depended on what pace I wanted to take and what else I wanted to accomplish. I enjoyed walking. I enjoyed the burn in my lungs if I pushed myself just alittle bit harder. I loved the clarity of thought that the extra oxygen circulating through my body gave me. I love the moments alone in quiet reflection with God and his creations.

I do not think I even owned a scale back then. Though losing weight and feeling better about myself was a result, and part of the reason I started walking the rewards were more than the number going down. I was finding the person that I had hidden away for so many years of my mascarade.

In therapy now, I seem to be stuck longing for that person, those days, and experiences lived in those three years nearly twenty years ago. It just does not seem like it is that long ago.

I suppose I long to have the confidence and will that I once had. Walking miles and miles now, impossible. I walk down to my parents house just a few steps behind my own. The walk that once had a pep to it is now a waddle. Once there am seriously winded and my back hurts horribly.

I do not know how to reclaim that walk, will, and courage. I do not know how to free that 25 year old body from inside this 39 year old going on 60 year old body.

I have read self help books, but I cannot find myself in them. If that makes sense. You need to really connect and see yourself somewhere before it works, and I have yet to do that. My prayer is that as I work through my other issues like peeling an onion, I will find me and appreciate me, and then be able to make that first step again.

I suppose I am rambling as I often do. This post was prompted by the Daily Post Challenge: Fit to Write writing challenge. For me my physical fitness and my mental fitness are so closely woven together that it is a catch-22 I suppose, one day I hope to find that magic thread that allows me to let go enough to relax and enjoy the journey of discovery in finding me both physically and emotionally.

Daily Post Challenge: Fit To Write

Weekly Writing Challenge: The Best Way To Win A Client

I was undecided about putting this in the trauma category or not, I decided not to, though I was surely traumatized by the event and vowed never to wear a wrap skirt again.

Let me take you back to a time that I was much thinner and much more confident. I was the assistant customer service manager for a national call center and turnkey facility for large computer companies such as Novell, Microsoft, and other fortune 500 companies.

This particular day we had a potential client touring our facility. I was asked to give the presentation for the customer service department, which included introducing our teams, and showing the monthly statistics and explaining them our procedures.

The statistics were displayed on a board across from the fish tank. The fish tank was where those who were actively taking calls were sitting. Those representative that were not actively taking calls had cubicles outside of the tank. I do not recall who the client was now, but I remember it was a critical client for us to get. I had put hours of work into making the presentation look professional. Management was extremely impressed.

As the potential client group came through I was so nervous. They were all young to middle-aged men. I showed them around, explaining the way calls rolled and escalated, insuring that we did not drop any calls. The presentation was going great. We walked to the presentation board so I could show the statistics of dropped calls, customer satisfaction surveys, etc. When I reached up the button on my wrap skirt decided it did not like being buttoned anymore. Down my thick khaki skirt fell. I caught it at my calves. What a day NOT to have a slip on. I jumped behind one of the partitions, buttoned my skirt, put a paper clip over it QUICKLY (so it would not decide to come out again) and continued the presentation in front of all of these men.

We won the contract. I was often teased that it was because I was willing to show some leg. Not long after that I was promoted to account management for one of our largest clients.

Things that make you go hmmmmm.