Leslie Journal: January 70th 2024

Hair Status: Probably chose the worst life period to become a blonde, I have yet to experience the "fun" lifestyle I was sold on. It does however cover the white hair that sprouted like Rogue on the X-Men after trauma 2023.  The undercut growing out is now turning into a weird "duck butt" shape. Luckily, social life is in hibernation, so I"ll endure a variety of hats and accessories. 

Weight: perpetually fighting tostitos and sour patch kids for custody of my work slacks.

Anxiety Level: Asleep by 7:00pm in full work apparel on the recliner with a cat on my lap. If I'm asleep I'm not drunk (shrug). 

Goals:

• Turn multi-price from a pile of hair and dust bunnies into a full blown course.
• 7 Zone Managers - 5 question reels
• Redesign leadership framework workbook 
• ASK QUESTIONS
• Leslie Reel!
• Commit to After Effects or Premiere
• Find a doctor! 
• Drink water
• Try not to cry from happiness at work (or behave like scarred refugee)

The Good Stuff: 

15 worry free days of PTO where the only thing I'm required to do is add to my Outlook calendar and email my boss. Imagine that.  Health insurance on March 1st! Weirdly excited about renting a storage unit to reclaim some of the apartment. Target and Aldi within walking distance of work. 

Everyone has a plan....

...Until they get punched in the face - Mike Tyson

....Until: their Mom gets kicked out of her partner's home of 25 years. Or your brother's new wife effectively cancels you.  Or your job decides on steep reductions in force, in which you are a part of immediately preceding the holidays. Or if you get sick without health insurance. Or your cat gets diabetes. Or your car seemingly sprouts a new and rare issue each week. Or anything in 2023. 

- Leslie Paxton

Leslie Journal: THIS IS FINE.

This is fine. I am fine. Everything is.....fine.  

I'm standing in the middle of Dave and Busters. LJ is dancing because he's defeated me for the 8th time at Long Shot (the basketball game).  Twice in his exuberance, he's thrown the ball so hard that it has bounced out of the cage and nearly pegged other distracted adults. I haven't taken a day off since MAY, but this is what days off are for. 

I wonder how long D&B has been there? Shit, when was the last time I was in the mall? A Mall?  I'm hungry. I'm thirsty. My arms are sore for 45 minutes of rampant speeding games.

And then I look at my phone...

I'm scaring you {constant reader or future Leslie}.  Everyone in my timeline is actually fine. Fine = alive.    

I'm not going to hurt myself. I do want to cancel the remainder of August and sleep until October, but maybe not dealing with things is the lesson that this revolution around the planet couldn't teach, and this new rotation will.  

"Auntie?....Auntie. AUNTIE!!!", LJ says.  

I realize he's been talking to me for a minute or so.  

"Are you having a stroke, are you okay??" 

"No, I got an email that's a bit mean -- and I don't understand.  You pick another game and let's do THAT until I can fix my face."

Meanwhile in the phantom zone of my brain, my thoughts are spinning the solutions like a slot machine -- but no matches.  Cherry, Cherry, Turd. Turd, Turd, Banana.  Turd, turd, turd. JACKPOT = YOU ARE AN IDIOT. 

How do parents do this? How do you keep smiling when everything is on FIRE? 

"Earth to Auntie...........come in?   I don't know how you beat me at Mario Kart. But you WON."

I literally forgot I was racing in a video game. 

"That message you got must have been bad.  Want me to read it?"

I do, but at the same time I'd rather set my phone (myself) on fire.  Where can I get some napalm?  I instead take him to the food court and consult with his Mom via telephone while he's ordering food. 

Tiesha says exactly the right thing, but I start to cry and that can't happen in the middle of the mall with LJ standing in line for a Cinnabon, so I wrap that call up and promise to get my shit together. 

I don't think he can handle me crying, anymore than I could handle the adults in my life crying at the same age.   

Yell at me, send me to my room - ground me -- but please Mom don't cry.    Don't disappear into the blank stare zone. We will figure this out. I'll wash dishes? Look I mowed the grass?  Larry and I will get along!   Just don't ever...cry.

LJ convinces me to take him to Chilli's for a "to-go' meal and then we actually sit down and eat. I'm relieved I do sit down and then I realize I haven't eaten ALL DAY.  

The internet would have you believe that diet and exercise is the way to weight loss, but that is not true. It's concentrated laser-focused stress.   I guarantee you if someone from your inner circle that you care about in some way or another lobs some low surprise jab at you or knife from behind you will lose all interest in food. 

Well... WHAT HAPPENED you say?

Let's just say I was excised like a tumor from a long term project I cared about a great deal, because I asked for additional time. I won't bore you with my fall itinerary, but it was desperately needed ask.

It's the following day, and this entry is calming me as I type.  LJ is here now (out cold ..it's 6:54 am)  but before I fell asleep -- he jumped on my bed at midnight and told me that he loved me and yelled Happy Birthday! At the same time - his mom, my very best friend called and said the same thing. 

Two other texts at midnight from travelling friends -- and then Lunesta Mom (very different than waking mom)  : gt the pics lv u..I'm sleepy...sleeping... 89nmquio  *heart* heart..YOUR MOM. 

It's my Birthday. (Did you hear that in Jeff Goldblum's Grandmaster voice?) 

I hope you constant friends stay along for the ride. I'm making some changes this year and I'll understand if you quietly want to get off this friendship train. Just exit out the party while I'm distracted with the chips and salsa. No need to launch friend nuclear missiles.

I'm not sure I know what to do yet, but I'll share the solution when I do. 

Worrying means you suffer twice. 

Leslie Journal - The Lost Files: May 2016

Sometimes my blog entries fall into the drafts folder of gmail and never see the sun. Maybe they are meant to be there, who knows - but I like reflection. So I bring you - the lost tapes blogs. 

May 2016ish

On writing: I thought this would be therapeutic, but my eyes hurt …push through.

Purple Rain: It’s literally rained every day since Prince died. Coincidence?  I think not.  Even Mother Nature is sad. Although admittedly, on the day he passed I was on my way to Hogwarts School of Wizarding and Witchcraft and literally incapable of sadness.   Feel sad about something? Launch yourself at 60 miles an hour up a spinning roller coaster and try not to vomit.

Napalm Emails: I was literally a button click away from closing the book on a nearly 20 year old friendship.  I didn’t push send.  It seems we’ll survive.  I don’t know how much longer I can keep feeling like the dog that shit in the house in regards to this particular pal.   I’m a person with ideas and feelings, I don’t remember signing anything in the contract that says we have to be in lockstep agreement about everything or we’re just not friends.

Amateur Craft Beer Serving: "Here try my mediocre Belgium wheats.... No, it’s not an IPA. It is an IPA. I like it, hints of chocolate.  Here we have yellow beer, brown beer, and beer so brown it’s black."

Internet diet: I’m going on one. 

Leslie Journal - 4.6.2017

Hair Status: Back in brown town.

Weight: Undetermined.  Skirt season has returned and all pants are banished until otherwise noted.

Goals: 

• Finish VAB I courseware
• Finish VAB II courseware
• Finish Mymic website
• Finish Leslie website
• Squeeze in life between items 1-4. 
• Try to explain why LOTR: the Two Towers is the worst of the movies because of all the walking.
• Remember my value. 

Anxiety Level: 3 bowls..err glasses of wine per evening

The good stuff: Mom called just to say she loved me on her lunch break today, yes...like the Stevie Wonder song. LJ and Teri have volunteered to do "multimedia" at church, so they could help ME with my work. Waylon is walking now, and also helping his mom clean their kitchen with his tongue. Busch Gardens is open.  AND my sports team (beach Wiffle Ball) WON a game. Bey and Marcie are the best fur kids ever. 

Leslie Journal - 3.7.2017

Hair Status: Forcefully rejecting red highlights as if they were an invading virus.

Weight: 2lbs down, but the real accomplishment here is not eating an entire bag of Tostitos Lime, despite being very aware it was in the cabinet...onward and upward

Goals: 

• Look super bomb for Elaine's wedding in two weeks
• call my Aunt who insists on telephonic communication
• manage 3 social outings without flaking this month
• defeat fitbit nemesis (even if it means running to Canada)
• remain a resurgent force of light and strength despite repeated attacks by work drama llama

Anxiety Level: Somewhere between an Annie Lennox or Radiohead song..

Thoughts on duality: If you let your brain drive the car that is "you" for too long, eventually your heart will hijack the steering wheel and take over that shit (or vice versa). YOLO.

Leslie Journal - 2.21.17

Social Media: A wise woman once said, "Fuck this shit". She lived happily ever after. 
(stolen from awesome Connie's awesome Insta).

Hair Status: Will in the 'Upside Down'

Weight: Outta control (for real - I can't stop eating my emotions).  I seriously posted a large pizza the other day and ate every f*cking bite of that thing.  I'd dare not mention how I smashed the Harris Teeter 7-Layer Bean dip.

I'm not going to post daily sweat pictures, but I'm back on the paid for version of Weight Watchers today.  Just as before - you won't get totals, judgement, or extreme fitness - just a little more mustard and a little less mayo.

Promises, promises: 

I WILL NOT

• Eat out of boredom
• Emotional Eat
• Eat after 8
• Drink Calories
• Eat Candy/Fried Food
• Skip Breakfast

Goals: This one's for you favorite jeans.
Hopefully back on in 2 weeks. It's not time for you to retire yet.

Leslie Journal - Feb. 3, 2017

Hair Status: Pink Lob

Weight: All about that bass, no treble

On pants:  The struggle is real, but I am mighty. Also - it's cold AF, so I will abide.  
(Is this a haiku?) 

Social Media: Out in the wilderness with Hillary, Barack and the other Democrats.  (At least I have a cool p*hat to keep my head warm.)  Currently only reading shares from liberal baes and instagram animal posts.   Still following the cast of Pretty Little Liars to keep up with fashion. Keeping a mental list of conservative friends like Arya Stark. 
Democrats are totally the Stark's right now and America is Winterfell. 

Ridin Dirty: Sally Pontiac at 11 years old still runs off carefully timed voodoo rituals, prayers, and love. Please ol' girl - I need you just a little longer. 

Battle Royale with Cheese: Management is NOT what I thought. 
"Like my man Puff says: Mo' money, mo problems." - Notorious B.I.G.

Leslie Journal: Feb 8, 2015

Diet Mt. Dews Consumed: 
1 as of 8:51am, but several chilled and at the ready, along with Keurig coffee to tackle the day
Weight: More than Zoey Deschanel, but less than Meghan Trainor
Bangs: Inactive
Time passed since Mom visit: 6 months and counting

A Cry for Help:
The same filling that has already been filled three times is out yet again. I can’t help but think this tooth just wants to be out of my mouth. I know teeth have feelings, but could a tooth be suicidal?  

On pants:
They are all entirely too snug, and I want to live in yoga apparel. Too bad I hate stretching. 
I hate pants. 

Ridin’ Dirty:
Sally Pontiac needs so much routine maintenance it’s not even funny. If only cars could be held together by love and intense prayer. 

Battle Royale (with Cheese):
Major shakeups on the job front are presenting opportunities to move a new direction or stay the course. Oh Captain, my captain I wish I had more time.  How do you convince someone with one foot out the door to stay? Can you? Is it time to grow up? Do we ever have job security???? 

For Ian...

but mostly, really and truly for Judy

10 things I hate about Dogs.

I hate the way you bark and bark.
I hate that you make a mess when you eat your food.

I hate early morning walks in the park....
and I really hate picking up your poop.

I hate carrying your short legs up the stairs.
I hate driving you around.
I really hate cleaning the sofa and lint rolling the hairs

I hate it when you make me laugh, and this strange new feeling I’ve found

Mostly I hate that I don’t hate you...
and that we don’t abandon (fur) family whether bark or purr or meow.