Perfectly Imperfect

Have you ever tried to do be perfect? I have. It lasted about a minute. Mainly because there is a lot of work that goes into perfection, let me tell you what. Trying to reach the perfect weight, have the perfect hair (something that is especially hard for me--have you the mess on top of my head? Yikes.), behave like a lady (also hard, I wore a gown for a night and by the end of it, I had met my match.)

So after the reality that my perfection quest set in , I started thinking about what if means to be perfect. And what is also means if we always striving—or more appropriately pretending— to be perfect, we may miss out on something that is truly lovely: Imperfection.

If you know me, you are also well aware of my many imperfections. For example, I have two bumps in my lower lip (clumsiness set in at an early age) scars scattered around my body from various mishaps, bug eyes (that's what my sister calls them--I secretly think she's just jealous--I like these giant blue jewels!) and of course, when I laugh really hard, my horse-laugh (as my dad lovingly calls it) makes an appearance.



And even though I am very aware of my imperfections, it’s interesting to me to see what other people think of as imperfect. For example, I have a gap in my front teeth. Cute, right? (You should say yes Tia that is cute, because it was passed on to me from my little mama and she is real cute.) Anyway, a couple of years ago I was getting some dental work done from this man-pretty dentist I used to go to. While he was doing his business, he told me he could “take care of” the gap in my teeth and "close that baby right up." A comment to which I sweetly responded, “Uh, no thank you" while I was actually thinking "What the crap man--You're lucky my mouth is full of instruments and I'm hopped up on painkillers or I might have to fight you."

But I’ll tell you what, he was pretty surprised that I wanted to keep my gap. Because to him it seemed like an imperfection. When to me, it is something that is perfect, for a variety of reasons: It does come from my mama, I can squirt water through it, it makes my s's whistle, and of course, last but not least, people with gaps are inherently good kissers. It's science.

So I guess the moral of this whole story is that even though we have imperfections, it’s better to embrace them than hide them or wish them away. Because in reality, our little imperfections are what make us perfectly imperfect.

The Breakfast of Champions

I've recently learned that some people jump start their morning with a little marijuana. Or at least, that's what some of the creepers in my building do to greet the new day. I only know this because that is the smell that greets me when I open my door to go to work each morning. And of course, to each their own. But I've got just one question. What's wrong with a refreshing diet soda to start your day?



If the sound of a can of ice cold cola doesn't get your blood flowing, I don't know what will. Think about it.

Oh Please

So I was thinking about something the other day. It’s the phrase "I’m over it.” Well you want to know what I think when I hear someone say that? I think, “Oh please sister, you’re not over it.” And you know what else, you’re not fooling anybody. No one believes you’re over it. In reality if you were over it, you wouldn’t have to say you were over it.

I think this is almost a code among people. Especially female people. And even more specifically, female people who are friends. It’s our way of telling you, our besties, that we are indeed not over it. Because really, if we were over it, you would know because we wouldn’t talk about it. By using the previously mentioned phrase, what we’re really doing is sending out a code red warning notification alert letting you know that we are indeed not over it. The subliminal message is this: I’m obviously not over it! How in the world can you even expect me to be over it?!

To which I also say, "Easy, I don't want to fight you."

Because it's okay. Sometimes I think we never truly get over it. Whatever it may be, I think that a small part of it becomes a small part of us. And you know what, that’s okay too. Because if we didn’t have little pieces of it making up our life, we wouldn’t be who we are today.

So you know what I say? Just stay under it.

Casting Your Line

Ah the giant pond of dating. It’s got us all swimming around trying to figure out which bait to take, when to jump and show our colors and when to just hang out and wait until something truly eye-catching comes along.

But we all know that although there are many choices and methods to fishing, it is something that must be done with skill, care and charm. The first thing every fishing enthusiast must understand is that fishing is not hunting…there is no stalking of your prey—only flirting. Good fishermen understand they must seduce their catch with the right kind of bait at the right time.

And since we’re all fishermen (or fisherwomen), with the outcome ideally resulting in our perfect catch, we have to determine just what type of fisherman we are.

Utilizing very scientific methods, hours of observing fishermen at work and the help of my big sister, four types of fishermen daters have been found: the sports fisherman, the social fisherman, the bad fisherman and the love of the fish fisherman.

The first type is the sports fisherman. These guys take part in fishing for the glory. They want to land that trout, stuff it, hang it on their wall and show it off to their friends.

Next are the social fishermen. To put it simply, they just want to have fun. Their goal is not necessarily to land a catch, but more to enjoy the day at the lake with their buddies. They’re there to mingle, eat some delicious food, dance to the music and peruse the selection.

Then comes the bad fisherman. (Don’t deny it, you all know one.) This joker is in the game for the appropriate reasons but his methods are completely wrong. Instead of playing it cool, he’s in the water stirring it up, sloshing around and driving away every fish that could potentially be interested.

But never fear…because the love of the fish fisherman is still out there. This guy’s patient, kind and understands the kinds of methods that are required for landing his perfect catch. And although he may get hurt from time to time, he learns from each experience on his way to finding his one and only.

Now comes the fish. To date, we have successfully categorized five types of fish that are found in waters around the globe.

First on the list is the easy fish, although the more common name is the “Trash Fish.” These little guys are the suckers, the carp, or as I like to call them—the bottom feeders. Even the worst of fisherman has a chance with these crappers. Let me sum them up for you…If you throw a blood sucking leach out to them they would happily latch onto it. Basically, these are the types of fish you do not want. Unless of course you like low quality food that will provide you with minuscule and temporary satisfaction. Your call.

Next on the list is the fickle fish or as I lovingly call them, the “Big Tease.” These babies flirt with the bait, tap the hook and even go so far as to give it a little nibble. Typically, fishermen don’t catch these fish. But you really can’t take it personally because they don’t mean it personally. The fact is you just don’t have the right bait, you’re fishing at the wrong time or maybe, the fish you want still needs to grow and isn’t ready to be caught.

The third fish is the rainbow or “High Maintenance Fish.” This sparkler is all about the show and takes joy in leaping out of the water and displaying her array of colors. When this fish hits your line, you better set your hook quick or they'll just swim on by. And as we all know, with most high maintenance “treasures” you have to be willing to adapt to them.

Next is the brookie or the “Feisty Fish.” These fish are little, but they put up one big fight. They’re full of speed and spunk, making them doozies to catch. Although they are a bit harder to reel in, they’re typically worth every second of effort.

And finally, we have the big brown or the “Stubborn, Independent Fish.” Any fella after these babies had better be patient and ready to wait. These fish are driven, determined and generally smarter than most of the other fishies. To put it bluntly, they don’t want your bait and they don’t need you to feed them. They’ll find their own bugs. To quote the well-known phrase “good things come to those who wait,” if you’re willing to stick it out and land one of these fish, it will all be worth it. And although they may get scared and try to swim away from you, if you keep them on the line they’ll give way to your charms soon enough.

In closing, remember that there is a fish out there for you. And although you may have to wait awhile and go through your fair share of bottom feeders, rainbows, brookies and every other creature out there, feel confident in the fact that one day, you’ll land your one true guppy. Or love. You know what I mean.

Creepers

*Tia’s Note: For the sake of educational and informative purposes, there are many levels of creepers. The sexual predator, long-haired, barefoot walking, stare-at-you-type are ones you definitely DO want to avoid. A complete synopsis of various creeper levels will be provided in a future entry.

So lately I’ve been thinking about something, or more specifically, a group of people: creepers.

“Creepers,” you may say. “Oh silly, I wouldn’t even know a creeper if one looked me in the face.” Well friend, truth be told, you know a creeper.

The way I see it is this. If you have a My Space account, a Facebook account, or even a blog (that’s right-go ahead and creep on me, I don’t mind), you are opening yourself up to creepers. And although the whole premise of these “networking groups” (AKA “creepers paradise”) is to keep in touch with our friends and the people we love, the usage of these types of devises opens us up to creepers.

I for one don’t think that you can be bothered by the fact that people visit your profile to check in with you (as long as they are not creepishly stalking you-yikes.) You know the gist of it…what you’ve been up to, the new photos you’ve posted, your relationship status and on and on. It’s a way of sharing your life with others and the spirit behind it is good. Heck, I love keeping in touch with people and seeing their accomplishments and adventures via photos. But you should all remember that by having one of these accounts, you’re asking for it. (And don’t play coy with me-you know what it is.)

But do you really want to know what it all comes down to? People want to be creeped on – not in a sexual predator gross weird sort of way of course, but in a friendly way. As human beings we have an infinite need to be connected to others.

And interestingly enough, for some it’s creating a My Space account, using Facebook or even blogging. In reality, when used in an appropriate creepy manner, these are things that allow us to stay in touch with those we care about. And really, let’s face it, everybody’s got a little bit of a creeper in them.

Circling the Airport

Alright, how many of you feel or have recently felt like you have been circling the airport? Go ahead and raise your hand. No need to be embarrassed, at least not in my company. My hand’s been up for a while now. Actually so long that it’s starting to cramp.

Okay, go ahead and put your hand down. Now ask yourself this question: “What is more boring than circling the airport waiting for clearance to land?” Your answer should be, “Well Tia, nothing. That is the most boring thing I can think of.” Touché.

I know that for me circling is especially frustrating because after I’ve been in the air for so long, all I really want to do is land. Now I’m not saying that it needs to be a permanent landing, but I tell you what, I sure wouldn’t mind having a layover or two or seven along the way. You know, just to get off the plane, make a few phone calls and see what it’s like to have my feet back on solid ground.

During the past month or so, I was doing a lot of circling. And I tell you what, I didn’t like it one bit. It seriously frustrated me to no end. But luckily for me, the flight tower saw that the plane I was on needed a break to refuel, switch pilots and give me a break. The brief reprieve was beneficial for everyone on our flight, especially me. It allowed me to readjust to a normal altitude, stretch my legs and put things back into perspective. Whew.

And as for now, I’m back up in the air making my way to somewhere else. And according to the pilot, the weather looks clear and we should have a smooth flight. At least until the next landing. Until then...wish me luck. I need it.