Who's That Girl?

Let me give you a hint: It's not yours truly. Sigh. And, yes I know what you are thinking. YES! I am in fact in a funk, deal with it muchachos! I'm sorry, I don't mean to take it out on you, you did nothing wrong. My apologies. I suppose it would be rude of me to lay this all you before I give you any type of background explanation, so let me explain.......uh, er, let me sum up. Life has been less than amazing, more than frustrating, and all around exhausting. Family: Crazy/Complicated. Work: Monotonous and Unfullfilling. Personal: Terribly Lacking. Yep, all players are here and accounted for! Brace yourselves, I am about to get SUPER girly here. I am bummed out that I am not one of those girls that can make guys fumble and drool over themselves. Alright, yea I get it. I am not 6 feet tall, with legs for days and perfectly toned arms, and skin color that looks like I live on some island and have some type of "goddess-esque" air about me. But that's just it, I've NEVER been "that" girl. It has either a) never occurred to me before or, b) never bothered me before. Oh how I long for the days when I was blissfully unaware of what a plain-jane-dud-poison-to-men-girl I really am!

Debi made a comment to me, something on the lines of "do you think you are possibly one of those girls that always attracts guys?" And of course, my reaction was major denial, and laughter. (side note: I do not know how to receive compliments. You tell me my hair looks good, I'll tell you it's really dirty and disgusting. It's apparently a "problem") But my reaction was genuine. I don't think I am one of "those" girls who always seems to have a guy totally vibing on her. However, let's all be honest ladies, I think we all WANT to be that girl. And, in my case, even though I knew it wasn't true, I think I secretly thought maybe in SOME way, shape, or form, in an alternate universe, I was in fact one of those girls! Or at least, had the potential to become one. Crazy, I know. Geez Amanda, how do you fit thru doors with that ego of yours?!?? But then that got me thinking about all the supporting males that have been cast in the "love" section of my life and I have come to a very simple verdict. None of them have actually liked me. Now, don't go feeling all sorry for me or think that I'm just fishing for a compliment. Don't, and I'm not, honestly. Maybe this is just my insecurities talking, but there is that chance that I am unlikable. When I take a closer look, most of the so called relationships that I have had, have been played out mostly in me ole noggin. Maybe, just maybe things that go unsaid, aren't the most impactful simple truths that are the hardest to say, and need to be clung to like the last boat off the Titanic. Maybe they weren't said because they weren't there, they weren't felt. Simple as that.

It has been a very long while since I was told "I like you." And, I don't care how dependant you are, or how in order your life is, or anything else. Those three sweet words can do something truly beautiful to you. It's like a shift in the earth, now there is somebody who has studied you, looked you over, took much thought, and allowed its heart to attach itself to you and all your nonsense that makes up you. They are willing to look over all the mess and are willing to put themselves out on a line and confess that which can never really be taken back. They are sincerely intrigued by you. You feel like something, because someone else has picked you out. That feeling is matched by very few things in this world. But, oh wait, wait, wait there Ms. Kula!

When is the last time you've said those very words to someone? Yea, it's been awhile since that one too.

Hey all the fellas out there that truly want to help a girl out. I could use some advice here!

The Insufferable Child on the 4th Floor!

4J is PUSHING their luck! BIG TIME! Riddle me this: what kind of idiots who birth an obnoxiously loud spawn that does not have any other type of movement octave besides stomping, decide to rent an apartment on any floor above ground level? What kind of evil master minds do that??!? This little 3-4 year old beast that lives right above me does NOTHING but run and stomp from one end of the apartment, to the other, all the live long day! So there is no escaping it. If I am home and he is home, there is no where that I can go to get away from the psychotic tyrant that inhabits the space above me!

And seriously parents, what is the matter with you? Growing up we were never, let me repeat for emphasis, NEVER allowed to run in the house. And we didn't even have downstairs neighbors! Running in the house was not gonna fly with Sue Kula, uh-uh, no way! That, and slamming doors, and if she called you, you were not just supposed to shout "what?", you needed to go and see what she wanted. The parents living upstairs apparently have no concept of respect, kindness, or even proper apartment living etiquette'! Shame on them for not knowing or caring! By the sound of it, you are hoping to rear your child to become a dictator of some sort, judging by the way you excuse (encourage?) the stomps coming out of little feet. That brings up another point, he is such a small child, how is it physically possible for so much noise to be coming from something so small??

And somehow my roomie is completely un-phased by all the hub-bub upstairs. I don't know how that is even possible, maybe she is a robot. Great, so I have a stomping monster upstairs, and a mechanically engineered "thing" living with me. But anyways, my robot roomie says that it would be rude or "unnecessary" for me to be the little old lady that I desperately want to be and take out a stick and bang the daylights (ha!) out of my ceiling aka-their floor to let them know that I have HAD IT! And to knock it off! Rude? Really? THAT would be rude? Not the fact that their child's refusal to walk lightly like a normal human isn't rude? Me no compute that. I feel like a gentle reminder that there is a freakin' park right across the street, where homeboy can run his little heart out, is a nice, neighborly thing to do. You know how there is the Better Business Bureau, to keep businesses in check when they start thinking they do no wrong? I feel like initiating a Better Upstairs Neighbor Bureau, that can come in and shut them down when they be acting like straight fools! That seems like a lot of work. Is getting a law passed that occupants with children are only allowed to live in bottom floor apartments for the happiness and well-being of all, any easier? Or maybe I could somehow kindly let myself into the place when they are not home, this is not considered "breaking in" if it's for the right reason-I have that on good authority, and somehow lay down sound reducing padding across their entire apartment! Because folks, all Amanda wants to hear is the pidder padder of little feet, not the stomps of a T-Rex man baby monstrosity! Kula OUT!

It's 10 O'Clock, Do You Know Where Your Roommate Is?

I must confess, I am slightly worried. It is precisely 10:12 pm on a Tuesday night, and my roommate is no where to be found! So strange! Considering that around this same time last night she was sound asleep. I know this because I too may have been passed out hard close around that time as well. (No need for judgement. I love my sleep thank you very much. And am unbelievably proud that I strive to get the suggested amount of 8+ hours a night. Don't be jealous!)

I mean what could she possibly be doing? And why am I slightly jealous? I have this unsettling need to go out as well. Be a woman about town at 10:30 on a Tuesday night. I can see myself now, walking around this great city, totaling throwing caution to the wind about having an early morning tomorrow! I could be wild too! Oh! Is that how it's gonna be roommate? Are you trying to one up me??!!? You think your so cool cause you have plans on a week night? Your SO awesome cause you don't immediately start yawning like clock work at 11 pm? Hm! You better thank your LUCKY STARS that I just so happen to be exhausted beyond belief and have no plan to get out of my lovely and comfortable bed. Because if I wasn't, OH! Watch out girl! I can tear up a weekday night like no body's 'BIDNAS!

PS- I also had a thought that you are stranded in the park somewhere, or being chased by a crazy person, or stuck in an elevator or the train for hours without a bathroom or food. I really hope that is not true. Please don't be dead! Now I really do hope that you are living it up on the rooftop of the Waldorf shaking your tail feather with Vin Diesel or somebody. Please be having fun! But not too much fun, and just know that I could be having fun too on a Tuesday night-Your Have NO Idea!