REASON NUMBER 4,235,999 THAT I AM GLAD I AM NOT A TEACHER

Yes. I was on track to be certified to teach high school, but stopped at the BA in English.
And now I have another reason to be glad that I don't teach kids. The wrath of GERMS!!!
I was around so many kids this past week, and so many of them were coughing on me, sneezing on me, dribbling on me. You would think that my relatives would be smart enough to try to teach their kids to COVER THEIR MOUTHS or something, but no.
And so I spent the last few days violently ill. I feel better today, so Ben and I are going to the gym, grocery shopping, and gift-card using (all of our gift money is going to boring stuff like bills, boo!)

Ben had another good interview Friday, and I am really hoping this is it. I am tired of being stressed out. Ben is so damn happy-go-lucky (which is why I liked him in the first place, but in some situations it is SO ANNOYING) that I think he is a lot less stressed than I am about this. Now I have to decide about teaching...do it? Don't? Try to find a job that works around it? What is wrong with me? Spoiled little me WANTS a "real job." Go figure.

And I'm glad the sickies are gone. I figure it's a good start to a diet. Hey, have to look on the bright side, right?

THIS COULD ONLY HAPPEN TO ME

I got home to discover that I had been out all morning (read: taught 2 Pilates classes, went to the gym) with my shirt on backwards and my tag hanging out the front. It was just a black Rebecca Beeson boatneck with the long sleeves cut to 3/4 length, but still. Great. I just taught 2 classes with my shirt on backwards. Only in my life.

Ben still has not gotten a call back. There are really only 2 1/2 hours left in the so-called "business day" so I am starting to doubt it is going to happen. I really don't understand...but I don't profess to knowing how people choose their employees. Which I guess means that I should not look to work in human resources, or else I would end up hiring people that management viewed as "the wrong people." Poor Ben, he has worked at the same place forever (no, really...since he was 18) so he really has no idea what the demeaning horror of looking for a job is like. You feel like you gave a great interview, but nobody calls. You truly are an intelligent person, but you give a stupid answer (usually to a stupid question). You start to wonder if your past employer is getting revenge by trash-talking you (think it doesn't happen? Oh, I have personally seen/heard it. SCARY!!) I think looking for a job is one of the worst experiences EVER. There is nothing I hate more.

As for me, I have a HUGE decision to make before the first of the year (that is my personal deadline.) As much as I LOVE teaching Pilates, I LOVE being able to live in a decent place, eat organic food, wear nice things, and actually TAKE yoga and Pilates myself. (I guess this can be seen as some form of greed but I tend to view it as, "I like my life," but whatever.) Depending on what kind of thing Ben finds, or more importantly, WHEN, I need to consider putting off my teacher training and working on finding something that I don't hate. Preferably, this would be something that fulfills one or more of the following (the more the better):
1. Some movement involved. I don't mind office work if I can get up to actually do something, and not stay glued to a chair all day. Filing? Sure. 100% butt-falling-asleep data entry? NO THANKS!
2. Some use of my brain, my education, my nitpicky copy editing ability, or other intelligence-related activity. (I have been tempted to copy edit at just about every single place I have worked, but some bosses don't respond well to "I think you are using the wrong 'there/they're'" etc.) I studied about an equal mix of literature and writing, so either would be great, and no, selling books doesn't count.
3. NOT "BIG RETAIL." Okay, as much as I would love to work in a boutique or even a more "niche" store, I would hate working for a place like H+M, Borders, Best Buy...I've done it, and it sucks. I wouldn't mind Anthropologie, though. Hmm.
4. No food service. Uck, gross, bleh...and as much fun as bartending would be, I am an ex-smoker and would hate being surrounded by dozens of cigarettes all night every night. However, bartending would be preferable to big retail or data entry, smokers or not. I guess sometimes you have to make decisions.
5. Good perks would be nice, such as working at a spa or cosmetic surgery office and getting discounts! 40% off clothing doesn't count, because you buy three times as much as you normally would and actually lose 20%. I know I just did that math wrong...not trying to be accurate here, just funny.
6. The ability to dress fashionably, but not be forced to wear a suit. Why? Well, showing off great clothes would be a perk, but a dress code that requires suits would suck, as I don't own any and at this point I would have to buy them from some crappy place, and I hate spending even a dollar on something cheap that will fall apart. Besides, I can't even find a damn blazer without shoulder pads, and that is another story altogether.
...and so on.
I know I am being too damn picky, but it isn't like I'm a high school student looking for a first job needing only certain hours and not having a car to get to work and needing off every month for school stuff. Nope, just a girl who has done a little of practically everything, has a really broad college degree, and wants to do something useful to make money to buy yoga classes and car insurance and organic fruit and fancy clothes. Wow. Now let me go put that on a cover letter.



p.s. Neiman's gave me (ahem, my husband, since I am a wuss and didn't want to deal with it) a new pair of shoes. I hope these don't break...if they do, it means that apparently I am too large, or something...er, yeah.

WATCH OUT, HUSBAND

Two words: Joshua Jay





I never really liked magic that much until now...

ONE YEAR

Today was our first anniversary!!

We had big (expensive) plans, but in light of all the stuff that has happened, we got small presents and that's about it. We were up late last night and traded gifts. I got this in a color called "Gypsy Pink" that is not pictured here. (Amazing how it was impossible to find a photo. I looked.) He said he saw it across the store and knew it was for me. How cute. I was scared to death when he came in with a clothing box. He DOES know my "I'm going to the gym/running/hiking/Pilates/yoga" style, but can't quite figure out my "normal clothes" style. He did wonderfully. This thing is super soft, warm, and it zips down from the top AND up from the bottom, which he remembered I LOVE.

I gave him this:




I'm kidding. YEAH RIGHT. Satchel is my baby. I would have teased him by putting Piper in a box, but she would have chewed out of it in .3732187089 seconds and/or jumped out of his arms to an unforgiving stone floor the second he cracked the box open .9378273120 inches. Seriously.

Anyway. I got him one of these and one of these (so he has motivation to get us moving) and this cheesy thing which was kind of a joke and which I filled in with silly answers, but I think he liked best of all. And this, which is something he never would have bought for himself but looks hot. But I gave him that a few weeks ago. He needed it. That way, he can wear his stupid t-shirts but still look stylish. See, we all win!!

Ben has another interview Wednesday, but I am still hoping for the one he interviewed at last week. I think I have to give up on "dream job" (full disclosure after I am absolutely sure) but I sent a nice letter to the local natural foods store (here) and unless they are insane they will read my experience and call me back.


Here is Satchel, helping Daddy find jobs:


(I wish she could help Daddy clean the place up, too.)

DOGSDOGSDOGS

Pictures of my girls:Satchel just after a bath.

This is the famous Satchel face. She makes it all the time.

Piper in "attack mode"

Photoshop 5 second hack job of Cosmopolitan drinkin' Satchel

"Don't mess with my sister. I'll get you!"

Sorry to show you my husband's boxers and rolls, but I had to show you that she sleeps INSIDE his shirt...

Satchel asleep. I had to contort myself into a weird position in order to keep her there and still take the picture. YOGA!!!!

She thinks she is helping.

Sleepin'

More sleepin'

"WHY WOULD YOU WAKE ME UP???!?!"

I have to share these. These are of a very fat chihuahua named Gabby, who lives with my mom now. (She was skinny 10 years ago when she lived with me at my first college apartment. Now she gets WAY too much human food.)Gabby at home. Big girl!!

Still a beautiful, gorgeous girl!!!!

And finally...hangover Piper:

LIFE IS...A HIGHWAY???

Saturday morning, the stretch of Interstate 40-64 by our apartment closed down for construction that will likely take a whole year.
Last night, Ben and I walked to the store, and as we crossed the bridge, we looked down to see the completely empty stretch of highway. It was creepy. Interstate 40 is notoriously packed in our area, pretty much all day long.
Earlier today, I was walking home from the gym, and I crossed the bridge a few exits over from ours. I looked down and saw a large group of people just strolling down the highway. Maybe it was the desolate look of the stretch of pavement, maybe it was the song on my iPod, maybe it was the impending storm, but I started crying. Not a bad, sad cry, but one of those weird cries that I get when I suddenly know everything is going to work out. So as stupid as the comparison is, I thought, I can compare life to this highway. People are used to it being open, and they trust that they can jump on and get where they are going, even though there may sometimes be traffic, accidents, delays, idiot drivers. Now, we all have to get used to going around the long way, dealing with insane traffic, and extensive planning for even simple trips. Yeah, it's cheesy, but my life is like that right now. I'll have to work harder, deal with more inconveniences, and maybe take a longer way, but I'll get there. Dream job or no dream job. I sent the dreaded "second contact" and have heard nothing. I think I should have let it go. People either love that extra show of interest or hate it. Oh, well. What else can I do?

Anyway, tonight as Ben and I went jogging (yes, I actually got Ben jogging) I took the camera to get some shots of the empty highway before they begin construction tomorrow.

Of course, it started to pour down cold rain about 10 minutes into our excursion, so half the photos look...well, rained on.

And then there is me, rained on. (Hmm, did a very good job on my eyebrows, though. And didn't pay anyone a single dime! SO much better than they have been...the place I went to slaughtered them until I had almost none. EW.)


And finally, some adorable photos of the girls.

Devil child eats Ben's track pants. The red eyes are just a camera effect that I am too lazy to fix. Or are they?

Devil child eats the camera strap while I take her picture. And my big 'ol thigh. Yeah.

Too cute for words.

REALLY? THAT'S IT???

I know you all are sick of me bitching about this, but apparently if I had graduated high school, taken a job stuffing envelopes, and slowly but surely climbed the ladder by allowing countless others to treat me as less than human, I'd have a nice cushy job with a fat salary now. But instead, since I went to college and didn't work while I did so, I'm now qualified to make $8 either stuffing envelopes or working at Taco Bell.

Did I just waste 10 years of my life and nearly $100,000? Really? Because I seem to not be qualified for even the jobs that say "HIGH SCHOOL DIPLOMA REQUIRED."

Enough complaining.

THIS MIGHT BE A "HIDDEN TALENT"

If I owned a company, I would hire my husband.
He really is one of the best workers I know.
I'm not just saying this because he's my husband and I want him to get a nice job with a fat paycheck (so I can teach Pilates and eventually get a fat paycheck for that). I'm saying this because before we dated, before we were really even friends, we worked together. And seeing him in action is 1,000,000 times more convincing than anything I could put down on paper. Where most people would curse, cry, or call on a higher-up, he somehow smiles and keeps going. Hotels are notorious for having some of the meanest, most dissatisfied customers with whom you will never reach any acceptable solution. They like to blame the one person who is trying to help them for every single problem they have, including the bus running behind or the prices of the restaurant across town. Often, they look down on you, thinking that they can take their bad day out on the person in the ugly (company-issued, mandatory) tie, not thinking that said person is human, has feelings, and most likely has an education. Traveling can make people crazy-eyed, drooling, growling versions of themselves, even when aforementioned traveling is "a vacation." (One thing you learn in the hospitality business is that "a vacation" is usually very, very hard work.) Yes, working in a hotel, especially in a management position that requires you to deal with all the complaints that the other employees could not, reveals to you the absolute worst in your customer. (I'm sure there are other areas with horrible customers i.e. retail fights over the last sale sweater and stinky people coming in for a wax after Bikram yoga and no shower, but I digress.)
My husband, however, is so damn nice to people even if they are yelling at him and calling him an idiot (yes, I have seen this personally) and he keeps smiling his beautiful smile at them. It's insane. Thirty minutes after the moment I would have decked a woman in the face, breaking her veneers and ruining her rhinoplasty, Ben is still smiling at her, and damn it if she isn't starting to flirt with him. God.
However...on paper, sometimes this sort of thing is not as impressive as the sort of thing you would see on the resume of, say, a computer geek. "UNIX SYSADMIN WITH 6 YEARS OF EXPERIENCE AT FORTUNE 500 PUBLICLY TRADED MULTIBILLION DOLLAR GENETIC ENGINEERING FIRM...REPAIRED SYSTEM MULTIPLE TIMES WHEN CONTINUED FAILURE WOULD HAVE RUINED YEARS OF RESEARCH DATA AND MILLIONS OF DOLLARS WORTH OF INFORMATION" somehow seems a bit more impressive than "6 years of hotel management experience." Yeah.
And, my husband is everything to me...except a writer. I challenged him to write his own cover letter, and it was everything a cover letter should not be. (Sorry, sweetie.) Boring, repetitive, not selling himself, etc. So I offered to write his resume and cover letter for him. Why not? People pay a resume writing service $35-over $100 to pump out a better resume than they themselves can write. Why shouldn't I do it for my husband?
So I did. And I am quite impressed. See, I thought I hated writing resumes, but it turns out I only hated writing my own. (For several reasons, including the fact that I think there is no way to make "WORK HISTORY HAS GAPS DUE TO EXTRA TIME SPENT IN SCHOOL, BY THE TIME I FINALLY CHOSE A MAJOR I HAD EXPERIENCE IN NEARLY EVERY ONE OFFERED AT THE UNIVERSITY, I REALLY CAN LEARN TO DO ANYTHING AND MY IQ IS PROBABLY TWICE THAT OF THE LAST TWO PHD'S YOU HIRED AND IF I ACTUALLY GIVE A CRAP ABOUT WHAT I AM DOING I WILL TOTALLY KICK ASS" sound better than the boring old "2 YEARS DOING THIS, WHILE I RAISED 8 KIDS AND MADE THE DEAN'S LIST EVERY SEMESTER, 3 YEARS DOING THAT, WHILE I VOLUNTEERED EVERY WEEKEND AND SLEPT UNDER A BOX SO THAT I COULD GET MY MBA" even if that person has little grasp on common sense. Again, I digress.)
I wish I could put this to use, but 1,000,999 people are advertising resume services and honestly, if someone comes along that I can't help, I would probably freak and think "Oh God I am a shitty writer and Oh God I need to just forget it. Oh God Oh God Oh God." That and, I seem to attract freaks in life, and I am sure that this would be no different.
That said, at least the whole ordeal was an ego boost. His resume has gotten an interview for, oh, 75% of the jobs he has applied for. Whereas mine, even in years past when I was still working and didn't have to make up a reason why I was not employed, got about 10%.
Maybe it is my great cover letter, or maybe it is just his field, but it's something, and that's about all I have right now...little "something's."

OH, IT SUCKS

I have too many things to say, so this will be a big huge mess of stuff.

One-I have too many blogs, TOO MANY. I am trying to keep up with three. For each, ahem, facet of my life, I guess? (Please don't point out what this says about my life. I know.)
Here: my real life, stupid stories, shopping, hair, makeup, etc. You know. That stuff. And next to nobody reads it. Hmm.
piecesofnote.blogspot.com: from a couple years ago, recently revived, I keep trying to make it good but so far not much luck, has zero readers as far as I know (besides random readers from Europe who leave really nice comments as far as I can translate them, so, um , are they using an online translator to read my page? *Thinks back to yesterday's post about the messed-up translation photo blog and shudders.*) Trying to eventually use it to get writing opportunities/work on novel, don't want to actually put novel excerpts up (isn't that kind of a bad idea, I mean, nobody would want to steal my shitty writing, but still) but I am still lost. Keep it, ditch it, what is the point with no readers?
fashionablyorganic.blogspot.com: New, I started this one because if I don't keep myself accountable for living the way I want to, I start to glamourize things like munching on Special K and taking diet pills and eating pressed, processed bars of crap instead of food. A way to keep up my raw food ways without joining the fanatics. However, again, no readers (I know it takes time, but still) and have been having a bad week (what with my husband back to eating a package of .19 noodles for dinner, making a smoothie that likely costs $8.00 from start to finish, topped with a shot of wheatgrass, even though husband is eating those noodles so we can still afford it, makes my body feel good but my spirit feel like trash. Yes, sweetie, eat that paste. We know you liked it in kindergarten. Add half a stick of butter, and WOW!!! TASTE BUD EXPLOSION!!!! Not really. But anyway...) and to top that off, don't want to just jump on the money-making "green" explosion (um, I tried and succeeded for a while with raw food before anyone really heard of all those celebrities doing it, and people just thought I was nuts. Now it's all, Demi Moore Alicia Silverstone that, and OMG that was on TV this, and I really don't want to try to talk people out of their misconceptions (that they learned from the "expert" on TV.) So anyway, unsure about the blog. About all of them. I need to make a point and stick to it, I guess. Or not.

Two, the job market confuses me. I went to college in 1997. For 3 years. And then I stopped for a while, picking up (very expensive) semesters here and there. And in 2006 I went back, borrowed over $40,000 and finally got my damn Bachelor's. And now, my husband, who never even finished his Associate's degree, had a job interview every damn day this week, while I (the one who spent a ton of money to finish school) have had no luck even finding anything to apply for. (Except the one job, which still has not called, and I am sad and confounded and...blah). Yes, I know, I should have just found one job and stayed there for the past 1,033,038,999 years like everyone else, but damn, I would have been so unhappy that I would have lost it. I think I'm like my MIL in that way...it seems that if she is unhappy somewhere, she leaves. Yeah, finally someone who understands me. The point is, I now owe $500 a month for a student loan, and my husband still hasn't finished community college and has has 3 great interviews for places this week...so let's hope one of these fancy hotels hires him. And has connections in Colorado. Because I would happily go back to being the manager at 7-11 to live up there. Seriously, what you do means nothing as long as you are with the right people. That job proved that.

Three, I want to move again. (Yes, out of state, but right now, out of apartment.) I now have two rooms in which the ceiling has horrible water damage, we had a hole in our bedroom ceiling for a week, nobody bothered to actually find out WHY water leaked and made the hole(?? idiots), and now I have been unable to use my bedroom for 2 days while they leave their tools and cover everything with plastic and twiddle their thumbs about how to fix it. Oh, and I also now have a ton of bedding and thousands of dollars worth of clothes that smell like cigarettes, because I know they are smoking in there. Or the new people in the building are smoking. This is a non-smoking building. I used to smoke. I think now I dislike it more than people who never did smoke. So yeah. That and they still have no idea we have 2 little dogs (long story) so I'd like to be able to not worry about that.

Enough, I will shut up now. It's time for they gym. Maybe I can twiddle my thumbs a bit longer for this job. I can't wait forever, though. Dammit.

BORED

i don't know why this made me laugh so much, but it did:




more


this is the best blog ever! go see more now!

wait! this one is even better:


more the engrish!

okay, i'm done now

BLECH

I spend a lot of money on Amazon.com, so it comes as no surprise to me that they send me several emails a day, letting me know about their next sale, code, or deal.
The one in my inbox this morning started with "$25 off crocs!..."
Whaaaaaaaaaaaat? You mean that there are crocs that people would pay more than $25 for? And that they cost enough so that even with $25 off, the company would make money? I had to see this for myself.
So I clicked on the graphic and found this. Wow. I am sure that I spend what people consider "too much" on things that people would find "too ugly." And this is just my opinion, but the classic croc is just about the most disgusting thing on earth, and I don't care how comfortable it is. (My ugly vs. comfort tolerance stops with MBT shoes, and only for walking or jogging.) But taking the croc and making it furry? Oh. Oh no no no. That is worse than my college (remember it was 1997 guys!) era Doc Marten's sandals with wooly socks phase. Maybe even worse than the current trend of girls-who-should-not-be-wearing-gym-shorts-out-of-
the-gym-wearing-them-with-Uggs-in-the-mall.
I know I might be crucified for this one. A lot of people LOVE these things. I know they made a new line of shoes that is nothing like these monsters. But I can't help but wonder...are these so popular because people like them, or because they are just a huge trend?

PROP 8-THE MUSICAL

If you happen to be really religious, you might find this offensive...but it is so true and so funny.



click here

LIVING ON THE CHEAP

I'm going to admit that I freaked out when I realized that $80 Brazilians every 3 weeks were a thing of the past, at least for the time being.
I am hair-phobic when it comes to certain, um, areas. I mean, I don't want to look like a 12-year-old, but I have been in enough locker rooms to know that a full Afro between the legs is not attractive.
Shaving is irritating and lasts about an hour, and Nair actually burns my skin off. So I saw my waxing lady pretty often. And it is not cheap.
How sad I was when I thought, "Time to call Sarah!!!! Oops, can't. Darn it."
So I went to Target (I know, I know) and bought this little guy. For $19.99 (1/4 of the cost of a Brazilian!) I wasn't expecting much...maybe a nice tool to touch up knees (the place I always shred with a razor) or the stray toe hair (shut up, you have them too!) or whatever. But I came home, put 2 batteries in, tried it out, and...I'm amazed. Really. It was a bit painful, but come on, so is waxing. I am not super-hairy, so I didn't have to attempt to use it in too intimate an area, but it really did get rid of the hair. (I love how people in the "customer reviews" are like "this was my first electric razor, is it supposed to hurt so much?" Um, no, it's an epilator, which is a totally different thing. Hee!!)
I won't lie-it was a bit more painful than a Brazilian, because it was slower and I had to do it myself. However...even if I run the batteries out each time I use it, the thing cost 25% of ONE Brazilian wax and the hair is gone. Gone enough that I would wear a bikini tomorrow, or next week. Best thing is, I can keep totally hair-free, because I can do touch-ups any time I want.

I'm so easily amused sometimes.

I WON'T DO IT

This makes me want to chop off all my hair again:

But I won't. She is too damned beautiful. Even though Nylon swears they didn't airbrush her, I think they did, but dammit, she is still gorgeous. And that hair!!

Not again. I just don't have the face for short hair. Or I do, but when I cut it, I immediately want long hair again. Oh, ratsicles.

YOU'RE AWFUL, I LOVE YOU!

My dogs love Ludo. So do my husband and I. They will be back here on the 28th, and dammit, this time we are going.
Can you believe that I had the chance to meet them last summer and passed it up, because I "was fat." Yeah.
In fact, I have missed out on, oh, most of my life due to "being fat."
This from someone who has not once been technically overweight.

Anyway. My first class was uneventful. It snowed a whole 1/4 inch, so of course like good suburban St. Louisans, people freaked out and left the H3s at home. Seriously. This is NOT snow. I like the cold weather. It feels better, and it is easier to dress with class. Why people take "hot, humid weather" as an excuse to dress like slobs, I have no idea. I want long, elegant coats. All year long. Not cut off jeans, shirts cut down to the waist (men), and stupid sun visors. Not looking like a tourist in your own town.
According to Self magazine (not that I take Self very seriously, but still) we are the third unhealthiest city in the United States. Add this to the "fourth most dangerous" city in the United States. HOORAY!! Miss Cynical says: Move here if you have a ridiculous baseball obsession, but be prepared to become an overweight smoker with cancer and get robbed, raped, and shot.

Sorry. I just hate that so many people read stuff like that and then envision this horrible Midwestern city full of slobs with cigars and Cardinals t-shirts and Big Gulp cups. (Not saying a lot of the city residents aren't like that. Just not all.) I mean, I have spoken with people who have never been here, and they actually said "OMG, isn't that where people get shot??!?"
Um. People get shot anywhere that irresponsible people have guns. Okay?
Now that that is cleared up, I resent the thought that all of us here are some fashion-challenged hicks with no clue how to dress. (Again, a lot of people here are, but so many are NOT.)
The other day I was at the gym, and surprise surprise, my ipod lost charge (I am terrible at remembering to charge it.) I grabbed a gossip rag and in the back was this quote from Alexander McQueen:
"I always liked the idea of people in the Midwest wearing my clothes."
The way the magazine framed it made him sound very condescending and sarcastic. I was adamant that I would not spend a dime on his Target line.
However, I did a search and found this article and it seems that the magazine just screwed it up (or more likely, purposely took out the one part that could be misconstrued.) Maybe I will give his line at Target a chance. Maybe.
So, back to my point: Just because I live in the most dangerous, least healthy city in the US does not mean that I am unhealthy and unsafe. It all makes me almost want to stick up for this place. Sure, I hate it here, but trust me, it could be worse.
*Oh, and I just glanced at Self again. We got number one for "unhealthiest eaters." No comment. What else would you expect from a city that was not satisfied with white-flour pasta stuffed with beef and god-knows-what-else? No, they had to "invent a new dish" by deep frying it. Jesus. *

I got from Ludo (who is, by the way, a local band) to Pilates class, to snow, to local "fashion" or lack thereof, to Self magazine's stupid ratings, to toasted ravioli (which is a stupid name since it is deep fried.) I really wish I had something awesome to put here at the end, like a photo of me eating "toasted ravioli" with Ludo, but I don't eat that crap and I haven't (yet?) met Ludo, so I can't. I can, however, post an old photo of my real live rockstar friend Pete, hours before he ate some toasted ravioli while I sipped a smuggled-in bottle of Voss water. Enjoy:

Ugh, god, I blame the PR guy's camera. UGH!