Sweet As Sugar, But My Blood Is Not

Irritable. Nausea. Nervousness. Unclear thinking. Uneasiness. Anxiety. Difficulty speaking. Light-headedness. Sweating. Hunger. Confusion. Clumsiness. Mood swings. Headache. Shakiness. No this is not a list of side effects on one of those cheesy commericals for Valtrex or the drug that makes your eyelashes grow. This is a list of things that I sometimes deal with on a daily basis. It’s a condition called Hypoglycemia or also known as low blood sugar. It’s like diabetes but the exact opposite. Your body can’t process sugars properly or quick enough or your body isn’t getting enough healthy sugars resulting in the symptoms stated above. It’s a condition that many people have and don’t even know it. Even I had no idea I had this condition until the scariest night of my life.

Before this scary night, I was working almost everyday part time at AnF. It was my Junior year of college and I had just encountered my final exams. It was Christmas break and I had decided to stay during the break to work. During the break I was going out basically every night, drinking, not getting any sleep, working, and eating 1 meal a day that consisted of a 6 count chicken nuggets Chick Fil A kids meal. Let’s go back even further to the beginning of the semester. I had just joined a sorority, was getting into my major and finally taking my core classes, going out a lot with my new sisters, having a rocky patch with my long distance boyfriend, all while working maybe 4 days a week. So yes, I would say my Junior semester all though was really fun, it was also very stressful. I noticed by the middle of the semester I would be at work and get really light-headed. I never complained and never thought “oh maybe I need to eat something”, I just thought I was tired from the night before. I would find myself grabbing at the nearest table so I didn’t fall over and then just lean on it for support until it was time for my break or time to go home. I also found myself getting flustered, again blaming it on lack of sleep or stress. I would start sweating out of no where. My t-shirt would have sweat blotches on them even when I didn’t really feel that hot. I would get really bad headaches, but I always got bad headaches being my mother and father’s daughter and plagued with the migraine gene. I was always pretty clumsy and drinking coffee all my life I always had a shaky hand. None of these symptoms were really worrisome to me until that one scary night.

Like I said, it was Christmas break and I was working and drinking more than I was sleeping and eating. That night, my boyfriend, some of his family, and my roommates went out to a club in good ole Ybor City. I was drinking Red Bull vodkas all night. Later that night I got really pissed off(won’t go into detail but I’m pretty sure I might have broken a glass at my apartment) and ended up locking myself in my room. I laid down in my bed and my whole body started shaking. I had no idea what was going on. I couldn’t stop shaking. My boyfriend had to break into my room because I couldn’t get up to unlock the door. During this shaking episode, his phone rang and it was one of his fraternity brothers telling him another brother had died. This news made me shake even more. I couldn’t even speak at this point. He ended up taking me all the way to my parents.

There, my parents made an appointment with my doctor. My dad looked at my eyes which kept rolling around not focusing on anything and saw that my pupils were dilated. I laid down and finally went to sleep. When I went to my doctor, they did many tests. They thought someone had put something in my drink. They did many drug tests and blood tests. I think they even tested me for diabetes which one would think they would have seen how low my blood sugar was then. They couldn’t find anything wrong with me but set up appointments for more tests that Monday. The entire weekend I couldn’t drive or even just be by myself. My mom, dad or boyfriend were always there, watching me, like I was a ticking time bomb, but having no idea when I’d blow up again. At this point in my life, I had found my independence and hated having to depend on someone, especially not being able to drive. It was like I was a kid again. I went back for more tests where they did some kind of scans of my brain and hooked all these little wires to my head. The shit they put on my head was not fun getting out of my hair. They found nothing and scheduled more tests the next week. That week was Christmas and my family came down. I had a conversation with my Aunt Sharron telling her what I was feeling before and during the seizure. She told me that I needed to get checked out for low blood sugar because she had experienced the same thing. My parents called the doctor and scheduled a blood glucose test.
For this blood glucose test, I couldn’t eat anything. When I arrived they took my blood. I hated needles and asked if the nurse could just take blood out of my right arm since I’m left-handed. She explained she would be needing both arms for the amount of times they would be taking my blood. After the first prick, they gave me some nasty orange soda tasting drink. After that, they took my blood every hour for about 8 hours. By the end, I was so weak, cranky, and hungry. It didn’t help that my dad was sitting there taunting me with M&M’s. When my test was done, I believe my blood glucose was around 45 milligrams. A normal person is usually around 100 milligrams. I finally had an answer to my seizure. My crankiness, light-headedness, mood swings, sweating, confusion, anxiety, nervousness. I finally knew what the hell was wrong with me. I almost felt relieved, even though I hate living with this damn condition.

I must say, living with low blood sugar is a daily challenge. Anything and everything can mess with my body’s blood sugar. Stress, caffeine, alcohol, lack of sleep, types of food, vitamins and supplements. In the beginning of learning how to control this nasty condition, I would sometimes find myself on my apartment floor, having fainted because of not eating properly. I would break out into a sugar shock attack after a night out of drinking. When this happened, I think I freaked my friends out more than it did me. I would just down a glass of OJ, go to bed, and I was usually okay by the morning, weak and fatigued with a headache, but okay once I ate breakfast. I found myself not being able to concentrate in class because I forgot to eat breakfast. Breakfast for a hypoglycemic is vital. I found myself not being able to find my words and put them in a sentence, making no sense when I spoke. I would get confused, flustered, and just damn frustrated. I read a lot of articles on the internet and bought the book Hypoglycemia for Dummies.

I have finally learned how to somewhat control my sugar levels. I have to eat, like all the time. I always have snacks. Some of my associates at work have made fun of me because I seem to pull snacks out of my ass. If I start to feel light-headed, my sentences aren’t coming out right and make no sense, and I’m cranky, it’s time for Stella to eat! Since I’ve been drinking coffee since I was 5 years old and with my job being a high energy environment, I can’t cut out my caffeine in take, but I just don’t mix it with alcohol anymore. And alcohol is another story. I can’t not drink. It’s something that I enjoy. I enjoy coming home after a stressful day and having a few glasses of wine or going out for drinks with my friends. I just can’t go out and drink without eating first. If I do, there’s usually trouble. When this happens, I might have an attack that night or wake up weak and nauseated in the morning. I feel like death and it might be from a hang over, but sometimes I know it’s not, it’s just my blood sugar punishing me.

I hope this blog post has educated my friends and family on how I feel when I experience low blood sugar. It’s not fun at all, but if others know what I’m going through then maybe more people will be more understanding when I get irritable, flustered, tired, uneasy, nervous, moody. Just stuff some food in me! And not just any food. When people hear “low blood sugar” they automatically think I need a lot of candy. No. Candy, cake, cookies, anything with sugar is actually really bad for me(or anyone for that matter). It may help my blood sugar at that exact moment, but it sky rockets my blood sugar and quickly bottoms out and can make my blood sugar even lower after my body uses the sugar. I need natural sugars like fruits and also protein. Starches are bad even though I crave them everyday.
Also I hope this blog post has helped anyone else experiencing this condition. Or maybe you have no idea what you’re experiencing but have felt the same way I have. Go get tested! You’re not going crazy, I promise. It’s just your body not being able to process sugars properly. You would never think your body could react in so many ways just because of your damn blood sugar, but believe me, it can make you feel like you’re not yourself.       

Here's a link I found interesting about hypoglycemia. http://www.authorviews.com/authors/bennett/obd.htm

Life Unexpected

Why does life have to be so damn tough sometimes? Why can't life be like it was when we were kids? The biggest decision I had to make as a kid was picking between Capt'n Crunch Berries and Fruity Pebbles at the grocery store(which I am still faced with that decision. It usually ends with me getting both). My biggest worries in life were passing tests in school. The biggest punishment for doing something bad was being grounded or slapped on my butt a few times. When I liked a boy, I chased him on the playground or passed him a note. When faced with a problem, my mom or dad were there to fix it and make it all better. The hardest part of my day was getting up early to go to school. My weekdays consisted of going to school, having fun on the playground with my friends, coming home to watch TV, reading the Baby-Sitters Club books, and playing with my Barbies. On the weekends I was usually sleeping over at my best friends house or vice versa, swimming in her pool, playing house or school, and riding bikes.

Why can't life be like this again? No worries in the world. As a kid, I was invincible. Nothing could bring me down. I fall off my bike, I grab a band-aid, have my mom kiss my boo boo and get the hell back on the bike. Now that I'm all grown up and just inches away from 30, my biggest decision is figuring out what the hell I want to do with my life. My biggest worries in life is pretty much everything in my life right now. The biggest punishment for doing something bad could result in a hefty ticket, jail time, having to live with yourself after doing something wrong. When liking a guy, it's all so freaking complicated, there's no note passing or playground. The hardest part of my day is usually dealing with something at work. My weekdays include getting up for work, driving an hour to work, working 9+ hours, driving back home, and sleeping until the next work day. My weekends usually include a full day of work and then hanging out with my friends out at a bar. During my free time, I'm usually sleeping, running, writing, or out to dinner with the girls.

As a child, we just can't wait to grow up.  We have all these dreams and goals we want for ourselves. We want to be a doctor, the president of the United States, find the loves of our lives, get married, have some kids, get a couple dogs, live in a mansion with a huge back yard, drive a nice car and live happily ever after. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a basketball player. I thought I would be married by at least 24 years old. I wanted a 3 story house. I wanted to marry a baseball player. I wanted 3 kids, 2 boys and 1 girl. I wanted a St. Bernard and a poodle. I wanted a huge wedding. I wanted a happily ever after.

My life is definitely not what I expected it to be as a kid. Here I am, single, 28, living in New York, definitely not a basketball player(why in the 3rd grade I wrote in my journal I wanted to be a basketball player I have no idea, I really don't like basketball at all) but working in retail for 8 years. No kids. My dog lives with my parents. I live in a 2 story rented house that is on the market to be sold. No baseball playing husband, just a few hand fulls of failed attempts of dating. Huge wedding? My idea of a wedding now a days is a trip to Vegas. Happily ever after? I've realized there is no such thing as a happily ever after. Yeah, you can be happy, but the ever after? Forget it. There's always going to be some obstacle, something thrown your way out of no where. Things you have to deal with that you don't want to deal with. But it is these obstacles in life that make you a stronger person. Something unexpected comes your way, you catch it and run with it, make the best of it. You learn from it and move on with your life.

So maybe my life is not what I expected it to be. I still love and enjoy my life. There's so many things I've seen, I've experienced, I've enjoyed that I never even could have imagined as a child. I like that my life is random, full of surprises, I never know what to expect each and every day. If I lived a life like I thought I would as a child, I wouldn't be Stella Elizabeth Taylor. I would be, well, just plain boring.

Home Sweet Long Beach

April 15th marked my 1 year anniversary of living in Long Beach, New York. I can't believe I've actually stayed in one place for a year. So maybe I was gone for about 4 out of the 12 months of living here, but this is a big accomplishment for me. The last place I actually lived for more than a year was my freshman and sophomore years of college. After that, I couldn't even tell you how many different places I've lived. I think I've come to the point of my life that I've decided to settle down when it comes to where to live. I have actually fallen in love with this place and also I'm so over moving. The packing. The carrying big boxes. The driving of U-Haul vans. The unpacking. Which I just found out my landlady is trying to sell our house so it looks like I might have to move, yet again. I totally don't want to move again though! I have really grown attached to my cozy barn. So maybe there's only 1 vent in the entire house for heat and I'm usually freezing my ass off. And sometimes I feel like I might fall through the floor in the hallway. As it warms up outside, the ants invade our house. Maybe I have to wash my own dishes because there's no dishwasher. And if I'm still living in this house over the summer, I'm definitely going to invest in a window unit so I don't sweat balls this year. But I love having an actual yard. I love my little sun room with all the windows. I love being close enough to everything that I can just walk to where ever I want to go. I love living in a two story house(I've always want to have one). I love my little white picket fence with a handicap ramp. I love being able to put up a big screen in my yard and project a football game to watch. I love just living in a house again and not an apartment. Having neighbors, a real mailbox, walking out to a real street and not sharing a wall with some stranger. Oh, and did I mention I have 2 great roommates?

My handicap ramp. No one in my house is handicapped.

How did I find this gem of a house? Last year, I was a hot bowl of stress. My roommate and I were living in Lake Grove, NY and our lease was about to end. My roommate had just received a promotion that involved her moving to Japan. I didn't want to live by myself and I didn't really want to live in that area anymore. There was nothing to do and all the friends I had made were living in Long Beach. It seemed as though everything was falling through. I thought I was going to be living in my Mustang. Then my roommate told me about a place another manager had available in Long Beach. I went to see it that night, and by the end of the weekend I was set to move in.

I'm so glad I made the decision to move here. I love that others my age live here. I love that I can walk to the bars and restaurants and not worry about how I'm getting home. I love that I have the beach just steps away but the city is only a short train ride away. I love running the boardwalk. I love the friends that I've made. I love the summers. Oh boy do I love the summer.

Living in Florida all my life, summer is just another season. Actually it's kinda hell down there. You lay out by the pool and after the first 5 minutes, you're already in the pool because your ass is sweating. Don't get me wrong, I'm a Florida girl at heart and love Florida, but you don't get seasons(well maybe 1 season. It's called Hurricane Season). You get kinda chilly, warm, hot, and sweatin' balls hot. I don't think I've ever in my life been more excited for summer than I am right now. Maybe when I was a kid waiting for summer vacation, but I actually loved school back then.

In Long Beach during the summer, by day, everyone is outside. People are walking their dogs, riding bicycles, playing volleyball, laying out at the beach, surfing the Long Island waves, getting fro-yo, sitting on the outside patios of all the restaurants getting lunch. Walking out of the door of my house just puts a smile on my face. No more winter blues! And by night, everyone is out at the bars. People come out of hibernation. City people take the train here, not the other way around. It is kind of nice to see new faces out, but at the same time it can be some what annoying when you're used to being the locals and having the whole bar to yourself. For the summer, you have to weave in and out of a sea of drunk people just to get to a line at the bathroom and have to wait at the bar just to get a drink. And since everyone comes here for the summer, there's no street parking. Sometimes I have to park several blocks away from my house. My roommate and I even talked about buying bikes to put in our SUV's so if we had to park far, we could just bike it back to our house.

Going out with my girls definitely out weigh the annoying parts of living here during the summer though. The nights spent out with the B to my S, my little wine guzzlers and hot commods I never know what's going to happen. It's never a "lets just go out for a couple drinks and come back home" kind of night, even when we say that's what we are planning on doing and give ourselves curfews(which we never make). It's "let's bring a football into the bar and throw it around while trying to hold on to our wine glasses and not spill a drop" or "Are they doing limbo on the dance floor? Yeah I know I got this!" or "Are those mannequins I see in some Kama Sutra positions? Let's steal their hands!" or "Um, so, what the hell happened last night?" or "Let's get shots of Jammo! Let's do another one! Can we do another one?(cheers, tap the bar with shot,take it)". Did I mention Jameson was a Long Beach staple? I had never even heard let alone tasted Jammo until I moved here. I used to hate it, but I have grown to tolerate it. Okay, so maybe it's kinda grown on me. But I figured when in Rome.

Jess, me, Laura.


Me, Sam, Bridget after stealing a couple of hands.

Jammo!

And then there's the boardwalk. The boardwalk has become my sanity when my world is going crazy. It's a place that I can clear my head and put together all the ideas that are floating around in this brain of mine and make sense of it all, until I tripped on a board and fell and bust up my knees, hands, and face. Yes this happened. I guess I had way too much on my mind that day and the boardwalk decided to really take my mind off things and just kick my ass. Let's just say after that, I paid a little more attention to where I was running. I also love watching all the volleyball games going on during the summer while I run. I'm not a volleyball player at all(unless they change the sport to kicking the ball over the net. Until that happens, you won't be seeing me play) but I love watching others play.

Sunset at the boardwalk.

On the weekends, the beach is amazing. Everyone is out with their coolers of beer, red Dixie cups, portable chairs that they can carry on their backs, volleyball nets up, a game of corn hole going, the lifeguards sitting up on their mounds of sand. When I'm there, you better believe I'm going to start a game of football and walk down to Cabana for a to go margarita. I love going into the ocean but the water is just a bit too cold for me(maybe not as cold as Polar Bear where I went in TWICE) until around the end of July. It's not like the bathtub water I'm used to in Florida. Everyone jumps and dives in while I put my big toe in, shutter and run back to my towel.

The other day, a friend called me a local and I almost disagreed but now that I think about it, I am a local. This is where I live and have lived the past year. This is where I plan on living for a while. This is my town.

Here's a few more things I love about Long Beach. If you're a Long Beach local too, you'll know what I'm talking about.

- Irish Day!
- Taco Tuesday. $1 tacos at the Inn and deadly margaritas at Cabana. You don't know just how strong the margs are until they hit you like a freight train.
- Sunday Funday. Followed by hangover Monday.
- To go along with Sunday Funday: Ricky Roach at Minns.
- Polar Bear Plunge. Until you get thrown in. Didn't know there was a rule stating it doesn't count if you don't get your hair wet.
- J.R. sushi at 1am.
- The 2 kids at J.R. sushi.
- Block parties(except Delaware doesn't have one! WTF).
- All the bartenders.
- 24 hour bagel(even though they don't toast their bagels).
- Indiana beach.
- Watching football at the Inn(these New Yorkers really get into their football).
I'm sure I'm forgetting other things that make LB such an awesome place, but this is all I can think of when I'm suffering from some major ADD.

Irish Day! Awesome LB holiday.

Freezing our asses off after jumping into the ocean on a February day.


Watching the Jets game at the Inn.

STF Seeking...

Being a single girl, I have been told, or received an email(how the hell do they know I'm single?) that I should put up a profile on match.com or one of those other dating sites, asked if I could be set up on a date with someones son/friend/cousin's brother's daughter's godson, and facebook messaged by several random guys in the NY area. First of all, I am happy for anyone that has found love on a dating site. I though will not be found on one of those sites. I am not "looking" for love nor will I register a profile. If love finds me, so be it. To be set up on a date before even knowing the person is probably the most stressful thing a friend can do to you. Dating to me is nerve racking enough with someone I actually know let alone a complete stranger. And what if you totally don't hit it off with this person? Then you're stuck for the rest of the evening with someone you have no desire to be around while you have to go back and tell your friend she's an idiot for thinking you and her mother's sister's 3rd cousin were compatible. And for those random facebook messages from complete strangers, how the hell do I know you're not the Ocean Parkway serial killer? I am not about to be called a hooker by some reporters on the news or have someone like Tori Spelling playing me on a Lifetime movie(all though she did name her daughter a great name!)

I am not one to be set up with or go on dating sites partly also because I like the excitement of going out and looking for someone myself. Not that I go out to look for guys, I go out to have fun with my friends, but on occasion I do meet new people. It's exciting to look across the bar and see someone that catches your eye. You make eye contact for 1 second, bring it back for 15 seconds, then look again and if he's still looking at you too you better straighten up your hair, ask your girl if you got shit in your teeth, adjust that bra and pop in a peppermint because guaranteed he's about to come buy you a drink and talk to you. And once he comes to talk to you, the flirting is fun and exchanging of numbers is even more exciting. And then comes the texting or calling(but in this day in age, probably more so texting) and then if you're really hitting it off, then comes the date with the person you actually have met in person and gotten to know a little through drunken conversation at the bar and through the world of technology.

Back in the day, we had classified ads. I guess they are still out there somewhere. Who does classified ads now a days? Probably someone that still uses a typewriter and one of those phones with the wheel thingie on it. All the matchmaking websites have replaced classified ads. But if I were to do a classified or a profile on a dating site, it would probably sound something like this: (do they have power point on dating sites because I could make a mean power point presentation on what I'm about to write).

Single Tan Female seeking:
Who ever says looks doesn't matter is full of bullshit. Don't wanna come off conceded because I'm far from but you gotta be attracted to the person in the first place in order to find that first interest in someone. Somethings gotta draw you in and make you pay attention. For me, I like sparkly, shiny, interesting eyes with a killer smile. I love a strong back(weird I know), nice arms, and preferably a six pack(not of beer. Unless it's Hoegarden. Which I've never had a 6 pack of Hoegarden. I've only had it in a huge ass glass that I couldn't even pick up with just one hand. Damn I want a Hoegarden right now). Someone taller than me(which is not hard to do seeing I'm only 5'2 and 1/2"). And something I've just acquired in liking that I've never liked before, 1 or 3, or 4 tattoos, as long as they have a meaning(just to piss my parents off, jk).

Looks aren't everything though. You could be a total stud, but if you don't have personality, you ain't got nothin'! A guy has to make me laugh. Like laugh really hard. Like almost pee my pants kind of laugh. He has to be just as funny, if not funnier than me. And if you don't get my jokes, then that sucks for you dude.

I like a guy with ambition. Working for his future. Knows what he wants and is career oriented. But not so career oriented that he forgets the finer things in life. Someone not so busy to where I can't be fit into their schedule. I'm busy too but if I'm into a person, I will make and find the time to hang out.

Someone that likes or has a dog. And not a little pansy dog(sorry my sweet little Buster) but a real manly dog. And likes kids. Not that I have any or am ever around them, but I find it cute when a guy is good with kids. Also someone that's close to his family.

It seems I'm attracted to cocky guys, even though I say I don't like that quality. And although I say I hate assholes, a guy has to be somewhat assholy in order for me to be interested(at least in the beginning. Cut it out after I've been won over!)

I like a guy that likes baseball and football. They don't have to like the teams I like though. A little competition and bets can be fun. Someone that likes to play sports or other activities like poker, running, surfing. Definitely surfing. Oh and a great dancer. Someone that can keep up with me.

I love Jeeps. And I like a guy that drives a Jeep. Top down. Cool tunes playing. Aviators on. I hate when I drive up to a Jeep at a red light, look over and it's an old guy or a girl. Disappointment.

A guy that knows how to dress. But doesn't wear rhinestones or that Ed Hardy or Affliction or whatever it's called shit. Also someone that isn't soooo much into what he wears that he tells me what I should wear too. A nice big watch is an essential.

I love accents. Mostly Australian, British and New Yorker. God knows why I like New York accents but I do.

Someone that has manners and holds the door for a girl. Someone that would dig my car out of the snow, God knows I hated doing that. Someone that knows all about cars. Someone that likes Family Guy. Believes in God. Loves to travel. Just as random as me.

So if you are someone that possesses all or 90% of these qualities and know me, hit a girl up. Now excepting applications for a summer fling. Possible full time position available after summer. Or you can find me somewhere at a bar in Long Beach, give me the eye from across the bar, if I look back, come talk to me.

Greetings from New York

Along with a lot of other things I'm still trying to figure out about these New Yorkers up here, there's one thing that happens every time I go out or run into someone I know. When I first started meeting new people up here, I shook their hand, just like any other place in the United States. After the introduction and I saw the same people out again, they would lean in and kiss my cheek. Wait, what? Where am I? Did I move to Italy or France? Or is this person just getting fresh with me? After having this happen on every occasion I went out, I thought, damn these New Yorkers get a little too friendly! It's something I guess I have grown used to after living here for a year and a half. Actually, no, I still don't think I'm fully used to it. I still feel a bit awkward when a person leans in for a kiss on the cheek. I know I'm supposed to do the same and return the kiss on the cheek, but I seem to like to make it awkward. First I'm thinking, which cheek do I go for? Left? Right? I'm left handed and do everything backwards so I'm guessing right cheek? But what if that person is left handed too? Left cheek? I don't wanna make it anymore awkward and miss their cheek completely and hit their lips or nose or eye. Then they might get the wrong idea about us southern girls. So here we are, doing some kind of dance move with our heads straight off the episode of Saved By the Bell when Lisa sprained her ankle(you 80's babies know what I'm talking about and don't act like you've never done "The Sprain"). Then comes the kiss on the cheek part. Do I really kiss their cheek? Or do I just touch my lips to their cheek? Or do I just kinda make a kissy sound in their ear? And am I supposed to kiss the other cheek too? What happened to just an old fashion hug or a "hi" and a wave? Or my way of greeting a friend, a good ole half ass side hug. So if you're a New Yorker and you're reading this, don't stop with the "New York Greeting", I do like to embrace any culture I'm in, but be aware I'm probably not gonna be kissing back.

How Stella Lost Her Groove

As I inch closer to the age of 30, I've noticed something about myself that has definitely changed. I mean there's plenty that has changed since the beginning of my 20's including my slowing metabolism, not being able to have a crazy night out and then head in to work the next morning and be just fine, and having more bills I have to actually pay for myself out of my own pocket(no more help from mom and dad). I have also noticed a very important part of my early 20's, I have seemed to have lost something. I used to be Miss Play It Cool, don't chase after the guy let them chase after you, tell my girls when the going gets hard, play hard to get. These were my mottoes in life. Now I'm more Miss Pathetic, chase after guy and trip and fall while trying, when the going gets hard just get drunk and embarrass yourself. When it comes to dating, my mind now is always filled with doubt, uncertainty, insecurity. I have come to the conclusion that now, I, Stella Elizabeth Taylor, have lost my groove.

Lately, I've been letting my insecurities get the best of me. But honestly, what in life is secure? You can say that you have job security, but what happens when the economy goes down the drain or your company decides to close up shop? Is your job secure then? You could be secure with the way you look but then fall flat on your face and get a black eye. Would you be secure then? And what about relationships? A person could say they have a secure relationship one day and then the next their significant other could walk away and leave them for someone new. Hell, life isn't even secure. You could be driving down the road one minute and end up dead on the highway the next minute. Sorry to be graphic, but that's just life. Sure I know I'm a cute girl and I'm not talking about my insecurities with the way that I look, I'm talking about my insecurities within relationships and dating.

So where did these insecurities and uncertainties come from? How did I go from Miss Smooth Operator to Miss Doubtful? Like most characteristics of one's personality, you aren't just born with these, you develop them throughout life from values you are taught or things you experience. Experiences in life is what shapes who you are and who you become. David Beckham didn't just wake up one day as an awesome soccer player. It takes practice, experience through playing a many a games. A person's biggest fear usually isn't instilled in them at birth, you develop fear through experience. I didn't just say one day, "You know what, I think I'm gonna start being scared of birds from now on." I developed a fear of birds from a bad experience with a mama bird when I was younger. The mama bird had a nest in a tree in my front yard. Every time I walked outside, she would fly down and peck me on the head. After being terrorized by this mean mama, I decided to not use my front door anymore and would use the back door, walk all the way around to the front of my house and high tail it down the road before she could spot me. Another bad experience with birds happened about 3 years ago, I was laying by the pool and a seagull swooped down and shit on my leg. I've heard it's good luck to be crapped on by a bird, but I really don't see anything good about white poop on any part of my body. Now, anytime a bird gets near me, I get a little nervous or have a mini freak out. I don't like birds and probably never will due to these experiences.

When my insecurities and doubtfulness within relationships began, I could probably pin point my lowest of my low experience 2 years ago. At the time, I was so unbelievably happy with my then boyfriend. Although it was long distance(me being in Miami, him almost being Canadian) we made it work. We talked about me possibly moving up there, destination weddings, how many kids we wanted, we talked about it all because one of the most important things in a long distance relationship is talking and communicating and without it, there is no relationship. After giving up my free Southwest flight for him to come visit, an amazing weekend in the sun and rain on the Florida beaches, I wanted to be with him even more. After dropping him off at the airport, I was left at work waiting for his call or text after he arrived home. I received nothing. I texted him wondering if he made it home okay. He said he just had a bad day and wanted time for himself. I understood. A day went by, he wanted more time to himself. I understood. A week went by, no call, no text, nothing. I couldn't just sit there anymore waiting by my phone thinking everything was fine while my boyfriend that I couldn't see because of being over 1,000 miles away and that I was so used to talking to for hours on end each day did not call me. I finally gave in and contacted him. And that was the end of that. He was just in a different place, had too much on his plate, too busy, not ready to be so committed. I was left heartbroken, breaking into waterspouts at anything that reminded me of him. I was left with disappointment, doubt, and just plain sick to my stomach. How could something so good, something that I believed in and felt so secure with, end just like that? After this break up, I felt defeated, let down, and most importantly, insecure. It left me feeling doubtful about any other relationship I might have. It took longer for me to actually get over the relationship than the relationship actually lasted. Which brings me to another point of why I have seemed to have lost my groove.

I admit, with relationships and dating, I have been known to rush into things. My last relationship, the one I just discussed that left me so broken hearted, a mere 2 to 3 months. But to be fair, I'm fast at everything. At one point in high school, I was the fastest girl in my school. I ran track throughout high school and was a sprinter. Also, in previous posts, I discussed my lead foot syndrome. I drive fast, getting pulled over every once in a while. After getting tickets, I have slowed down a bit, but tend to forget about those tickets after a while. Plus, damn it, I'm gonna be late for work if I don't drive fast! Like my driving, I don't even know that I'm going too fast. I just go with the flow of traffic, go with what feels right for me. I wish there was a dating police out there to pull me over whenever I'm rushing into things to give me a ticket, or at least a warning. I mean I ain't from Russia, so why is I rushin'(they only want me for my pimp juice)?

Also, like I've mentioned in a previous post, I am boy-dyslexic. I don't know how to read them and the older I get, the less I understand them. And in my post "Unsolved Mysteries", I have said I am pretty good at figuring out if a guy is in to me or not. But just recently, I've been thrown for a loop. I can't figure it out. Sometimes I wish I were a kid again so I could write a note saying, "Do you like me? Check Yes or Check No" insert boxes by Yes and No and give it to my best friend to pass over to my crush. In this day in age, do they have an App for that? That could be very handy for all the ladies out there.

So how does Stella get her groove back? In the movie, Stella gets her groove back with a younger guy from Jamaica. I used to be a bit of a cougar and I am on an island, maybe not Jamaica, but it is an island. I think this Stella has yet to figure that one out though. For now, this Stella just needs to stop to smell the flowers New York is about to spring up, stop stressing out about every single little thing, learn how to play it cool again and not let the insecurities get the best of her. Easier said than done, right? I need to stop thinking that all birds are going to swoop down and peck me on the head, shit on me, or take off with my French fries and fly away. There are some birds out there that don't fly, right? Like the penguin. They're cuter than any of the other birds that can fly anyway.

Vegas Part 4

Since I have written about every trip I've taken to Vegas, I guess I better write about my last trip. But of course like my other postings of my Vegas trips, I will have to censor a little bit of my post. Not that what I did in Vegas was all that bad, there's just some things that happen in Vegas that just have to stay there.
This trip, my roommate Stephanie accompanied me. We stayed at the Hard Rock Hotel which was pretty baller. The first day, we spent walking the strip and of course shopping. We were basically winging our trip. We had an idea of what we wanted to do for our trip, but didn't really plan on anything. We were stopped in Caesar's and given wristbands for the club Pure so we figured we'd go there for our first night and see where the rest of the night took us. We ate lunch and decided to go back to our hotel to take a 2 hour power nap since we were a little jet lagged and we knew we would have a long night ahead of us. I didn't set an alarm because I usually wake up when I need to anyway and didn't think I would be sleeping that much since I was so excited to be back in Sin City. When I woke up, I looked at the hotel clock and it read 1:30am. I was so disoriented I thought the clock was on east coast time for some reason. I looked at my Blackberry and it read 4:30am. I was pretty pissed when I realized that we had actually slept through our first night in Vegas. Since Sin City never really sleeps, we could have gotten up and done something, but that meant we'd still have to shower and get ready and by that time it would have been really late. So we went back to sleep.
Our 2nd day consisted of the amazing Bellagio buffet, walking the strip, shopping, and getting stopped constantly by club promoters giving us passes and taking our numbers for things going on for the night. We also went to the wax museum which was actually really cool. We decided to go see the Thunder From Down Under that night and then go to the Palms since I'd never ventured out that way. The Thunder show was awesome as always, but I was disappointed to not see my favorite Thunder. After the show, we chatted it up with one of the Thunders and found out my favorite Thunder had just quit the night before to move to China. After that we hopped a cab and went to Ghost Bar at the Palms. Although the view was amazing, we were a little disappointed by the guy selection there and felt like old maids here. Everyone kept asking us if we were there for Spring Break or Nascar. First of all, my last Spring Break was about 5 years ago and second I hate Nascar. Even though I'm from Florida and I should just naturally like Nascar, I have grown to cringe at the sight of Jeff Gordon after being forced to watch Nascar or Western movies as a child when going to visit my grandfather. After being asked for the 54th time if we were there for Spring Break, we finally just went with it. I was 23 and Steph was 22 and we went to Adelphi and majoring in Journalism.

Steph and I with Hugh.
Our 3rd day, we went back to the Bellagio buffet and then decided to venture out to old Vegas. I'd been to Freedmont Street my first time in Vegas(I think I saw every part of Vegas when I was there 2 weeks for work) but I wanted to get pictures this time and since we had walked up and down the strip the first two days, we were running out of things to do during the day. In Vegas, it's really more of a night place. That night, we went to the Holly Madison show Peepshow which was amazing. Afterwards, we met up with some of the Thunder at Cathouse in the Luxor. After a few drinks, a few puffs of hooka, and a couple rounds of pool with the Aussies, we went back to our hotel. Steph and I were still wide awake so we decided to take the rest of our night to the center bar at the Hard Rock. There, we spotted two guys from across the bar. We were intrigued by the two because they seemed they were really into talking to one another. We were trying to figure out if they were gay or straight. Their body language definitely told us they were a couple. I couldn't take it anymore and walked over. I asked if I could ask them a question and noticed they had accents. Apparently they weren't gay, they were just British. Being the world traveler that I am and that I love people from other countries(okay, mostly just love people from Australia, the U.K., and Italy, and by people I mean guys) I made some new friends. Steph and I tried to teach them American and gave them some phrases to say in Southern and Northern accents. They weren't too good at it. After getting pissed for being carded for ordering water and getting a text message from my "it's time for bed" alarm clock from the East coast, I realized the sun was rising over Vegas.

Teaching some Brits how to speak American.

The sunrise from our hotel room.

Our final day in Vegas like all of my other Vegas trips was the most epic. Since we didn't go to bed until sunrise and we had run out of things to do during the day, we slept until it was time to get up to get ready for the night. Our first stop of the night was the new casino the Cosmopolitan. This place was amazing and a definite place to stay on my next trip. After dinner, we headed over to Paris where we had gotten on the list for the grand opening for the new club Chateau. After being in the club for about 5 minutes, we were approached by a guy that asked if we would like to join their table for some drinks. We went and met some good ole southern boys from Tennessee. They were there for a bachelor party. Steph, me, and two of our new friends decided to go down to the casino for some gambling. We watched them play craps for a while and then went back to the club. A little later, I got the itch to play some blackjack so my new friend and I went back down to the table. I remember doing really well at the beginning, but some how in the end only left the table being up $5. I guess I should have walked away while I still remembered playing. We went back to the club and found the table empty. Apparently everyone had left. We hopped a cab and told the driver we were in search of Elvis. Not just any Elvis, an ordained Elvis. I'm sure we were only joking, since that was #16 on my Surviving Sin City list, but the cab driver was not having it.

Steph and I at Chateau.

Me with my "almost" future ex husband.

The next day, it was time for us to leave. With a pounding head, I quickly threw my stuff in my bag and headed down to check out. The wait for our flight at the airport was miserable but the flight was definitely better than last year. We finally made it back to NY. The next day I woke up sick and ended up sleeping almost the whole day. Vegas had kicked my ass. I still love you Vegas, but you're just so exhausting! After I catch up on my sleep, I can't wait until we meet again, Sin City.