THE SQUEAK

this blog will be disappearing

2009-06-07T19:21:00.001-07:00

http://rubyshoeblues.wordpress.com/

please read the little disclaimer about my anonymity...it will be much appreciated!

SO...

2009-04-25T18:42:00.000-07:00

as much as i love to write, and as much as i want to start a new blog, i have a few "life messes" i need to clean up first.

i don't want to pay for web hosting if i am in a position where writing is difficult for me. i don't want to take on more than i can handle.

i created another blogger page at myjuicylittlesecret

i would love for you to follow, but be warned that it may be graphic (body and health-wise, not XXX graphic!) and you may completely disagree with much that you read. i need to be me, and say what i feel, and not worry about pissy comments or lectures. oh, yeah...i love love LOVE comments, but don't need lectures. guess what? i have spent my 20's listening to lectures, and it has gotten me nowhere....well, somewhere worse than i ever have been. so i'm trying to keep this thing positive.
also, it may be boring to some of you...juice fasting? juice diaries? woo-hoo, FUN!!!

anyway...that is where i will be, for the next while at least. even if i get zero followers, i will be updating often, to keep myself accountable.

FIND ME ON THE INTERNET!!

2009-04-19T11:07:00.000-07:00

I am working on designing/executing my new (and much improved) blog, but until then, find me at:

tumblr: www.danceswithchihuahuas.tumblr.com

(if you don't use tumblr yet, sign up. it is very addictive!)

grace in small things: http://graceinsmallthings.ning.com/profile/shannon3

twitter: http://twitter.com/danceswithchis

(i am trying to update more often)

and check back for more blog info soon!!!!

UPDATES

2009-04-15T12:47:00.000-07:00

Hello out there in blog-land!
I am working on a TON of personal projects right now, so please bear with me and be patient. My new blog will come soon, I promise. I am most likely going to buy a domain of my own, and I know that will take time since if I have to be stuck with a domain name, I need it to be beyond perfect! It will probably have a few ad links (but only good stuff, I promise...no spam, no pop-ups, no random junk that has nothing to do with me or my readers!) and quite a few other fun things as well.
Again, the time-wasting part is going to be me making the final decisions on content/theme and domain name...I need to find something and STICK.

I'm excited to say that right now I am giving my characters some major identities for my novel. I am a firm believer that characters matter most...shallow, flat, or unrealistic characters make me put a book down faster even than bad grammar/editing. Faster than a slow story line, even! I have to at least KNOW, if not like or identify with, these people. The best novels are the ones that make me sad when I finish the last page, because suddenly, all my "new friends" are gone forever.

I have to go actually work now...you know, the stuff that pays the bills. Yikes!

YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED...

2009-04-13T19:31:00.000-07:00

I really haven't been posting here very much. It's been very intermittent. I am not living up to my promises (my Crap Jobs Tuesday, my Sunday Confession) and I haven't said hello or left comments for...well, anybody, really.
I've been feeling pretty lost, and feeling like this has just turned into a place for me to bitch and whine about the stupid parts of my life (guess what? everyone else has a job, and a family...why would anyone want to read about mine?) so it is time (soon!) to move on. I am planning to start a new blog elsewhere, as soon as I get a central theme set in stone. I'll definitely post the address here, so my (few) readers can follow (if you want!)

In the meantime, I am finally (finally, as in, after more than 10 years) starting in on a novel. As silly as that sounds (doesn't everyone say they are going to write "a novel") it finally feels right. The other day, I was at work, bored and frustrated that I could not come up with an idea that really was original (I could have written a novel years ago with the same plot as that "17 Again" movie that is coming out...why didn't I? Um, laziness, I guess), that wasn't cheesy as all hell (then again, many authors of many cheesy books have enjoyed bestseller status and movie versions), or that didn't bore me after a few chapters (ADD, I guess). I started writing a list of words and the feelings that those things, or even just those words, evoked, and remembered something that happened a few years ago, and suddenly, the entire framework of a story appeared on my sparkly pink notebook.
I'm sure I will probably throw small pieces of it up on http://piecesofnote.blogspot.com (which I will keep up, and hopefully update sometimes...so if you like to read fiction at all, please follow or I will get discouraged and bored and stop posting there) but I will throw them in the mix, so nobody really realizes that they are tiny parts of the novel (for several reasons).
I realized a few things: one, I spent WAY too much time worrying about genre (if I go with psychological suspense/mystery, can I cross over to something else later?) and kind of overlooked the fact that I can combine a few "genres" and come up with something infinitely better than if I tried to stay within boundaries; two, I have to be somewhat organized but let myself write parts as they come to me without worrying about chronology until I get closer to finishing.
So there. Hopefully in the next few weeks, I will have something new up and running, and I will start posting on piecesofnote.blogspot.com again.

DREAMS

2009-04-09T07:57:00.001-07:00

Nope, not the kind they tell you to follow when you are still young and hopeful.

The creepy kind you have at night. The haunting kind that stay with you all day, not because they were nightmares, but because they left some sort of weird impression on you.

I often have dreams that just won't let me wake up-the sort that continue on, even after you have half woken up and hit the snooze button.

I'm not sure why I had the dream I had last night, but it might have something to do with the
picture of Scott Pilgrim and Ramona Flowers doing the Charleston that I am currently using as my desktop. It wasn't even a particularly creepy or special dream, but it stuck in my head as important or significant in some way.

I was some kind of professional dancer, and my partner (who was also my teacher and quite possibly a lover) was some sort of modern-day Fred Astaire. Very, very famous. I was finally going to perform with him in a real show, one that people paid to come see. I was stuck in my old high school building for some reason, and I was running late. When I got there, I put on my costume and looked in the mirror--I looked just like Holly Golightly.

I'm still sitting here trying to figure out why I remembered this dream out of the thousands that I am sure I have, and why it is stuck in my mind. Anybody have any weird dreams they feel like sharing?

QUALIFIED?

2009-04-08T13:39:00.000-07:00

I have the weirdest memory.
There are 1,834,283 thoughts running through my head at any given moment, so I like to write things down. I do this on random scraps of paper, Post-Its (more on my Post-It obsession some other time), or in a daily planner on the corresponding day. Then, I continue to write it over and over again on each day (or week) until I take care of it, or decide it really isn't Important anymore.
Usually, however, I think of things (Important Things!) at inopportune times, and have to devise ways to remember said Things until I can get somewhere and write them down. This sometimes entails chanting in my head, or making up a cute song or poem to sing/recite to myself until I get a pen and paper in hand. Sometimes, this involves sending myself an e-mail from my phone. (I am NOT texting and driving! I am e-mailing myself IMPORTANT THINGS! ...Like "go tanning." Er. Anyway.)
Today, I was in yoga. Class was going by pretty slowly, and we were on what is basically the first posture, and I looked down at my toes (I had to; I was preparing to press my face into my shins) and thought "UGH! Someone needs a pedicure!" I spent the rest of class saying "feet, feet, feet, feet, feet, feet" in my head, and falling out of postures because instead of thinking about the muscles I was supposed to use, I was thinking "feet, feet, feet."
I finally got home and wrote "pedicure" on my planner, but I doubt I'll actually do it anytime soon. I tend to ruin pedicures from my constant yoga/working out, and I have given up on trying to grow my toenails out for that elusive French pedicure. Not going to happen. At least not if I ever have to stand, walk, or wear shoes. *sigh*
One look at my planner and you will see that I am somewhat of a procrastinator. At least, on paper. See, I tend to expect waaaaaaaaaaay too much out of one day. Work 7 hours, work out 2.5 hours (plus the extra hour spent waiting for yoga to start and showering off the sweat afterwards), play with puppies, prepare meals, check e-mail, pick up some grapefruit, clean the kitchen, get gas...and this is before I do anything that isn't day-to-day, normal stuff. So really, the fact that little words like "pedicure" and "mend sweaters" and "return shoes" recur on the pages of my planner are not testament to my tendency to procrastinate, but more proof that I am busy and I expect too damn much out of myself (we won't go into the fact that a few short years ago, I was seemingly a cyborg or at the very least, a superhero, and could do all sorts of things on no sleep and never get tired. what happened?)
The word that is constantly written, and constantly bothering me, is "resumes." I have been collecting job ads like a crazy, hoarding, pack-rat bag lady, but I have applied to exactly ONE of those jobs. Lately, I am just not inspired to write cover letters and bug people for recommendations. Not inspired to find a creative way to explain an employment gap due to being so sick I could not even check the mail and not knowing what the hell was wrong. Not inspired to examine a past that is not nearly as impressive as it "should" have been, according to my grades and ACT scores and everyone's expectations. Not inspired to wonder whether that great job description is really just a good writer's exaggeration of a position as a coffee-fetching secretary.
But that has to change. Last night, I found the best job posting. Actually, two job postings. Both deal with publishing, but they are very different. One of them sounds better, but I am not sure if I am really, truly qualified. My saving grace is the fact that they ask for work samples, and you'd better believe they are getting the before-and-afters of my current work's newsletters. The job has been open for months, so maybe they will try something a little different.
Besides, what is the worst that can happen? They won't call me. It's not like someone will take the time to call and say "Ha-ha, loser, you thought you could stand a chance, but you are SO unqualified. YOU SUCK!!!"

Right??

Because that is something that I would definitely not have to write down to remember. I just would...forever.

CRAP JOBS TUESDAY--MAYBE YOU SHOULD HIRE A COPYEDITOR

2009-04-07T19:21:00.000-07:00

Medicail Records

XXX is looking for a full time medicail records assistant. The applicaint must be comfortable with medicail terms. Degree in health information management would be preffered. The ideal canidate for the job would be a self-motivator, versatile, and flexable person. This job is detailed and fast paced. xxx has great benifits with health insurance, 401k, ESOP, tuition reimbursement and vacation time. Please contact lavern if you would like further information.

Location: XXX
Compensation: $16,640-$19,760
Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster.
Phone calls about this job are ok.
Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.

I put "XXX" in place of the identifying information, but trust me, this is a real ad that I found online.
First of all, a "degree in health information management" must be worth more than this. That isn't even $10 an hour...at the high end.
According to the pay that is being offered for Bachelor's Degrees these days, you would think that they were handing them out free on the street corner or something...no tuition, no work, no brain required. Right?

I am tempted, however, to send my resume and offer my services as a copy editor. Or, at the very least, become a contract Spell-Check Instructor.

WRONG DAY, SO WHAT???

2009-04-06T17:42:00.000-07:00

Dear Mary Elizabeth Winstead,

I am not entirely sure who you are since I never really watch TV and have not seen any of the movies you are in, but you and I need to have a little talk.

See, IMDB says you are playing the part of Ramona Flowers in the Scott Pilgrim vs The World movie, and that must be a mistake.
I am supposed to be Ramona Flowers. If she were real, she would be me, so it only makes sense that I play her in the movie.

--shannon

p.s. I will totally enjoy starring opposite Michael Cera, too.

NO MORE SICK, NO MORE FAT, NO MORE, NO MORE

2009-04-04T19:09:00.000-07:00

I know, I really can't be called "fat" by any so-called "normal person" standards, but when have I ever been normal?
I am tired of feeling sick, and sick of feeling gross and big and lumbering around instead of gracefully moving.
I've been back on the raw foods (really, nothing else works, my digestive system has repeatedly told me "HAY-ELL NO!" to anything else) and am trying to do a short course of smoothie-juice feasting until my stupid TMJ drama chills out (food and chewing makes it worse).

At the upper right of my blog is a little link to my "Daily Plate." I have a history of hating online diet diaries, because I don't eat anything that remotely resembles most of the stuff that most people eat, so it is never programmed in to the database. However, The Daily Plate makes it easy to make your own little foods, so I can put the exact amounts of everything I throw into the VitaMix on a regular basis and title it "Grapefruit Smoothie" or whatever. Hooray. Now, let's see if I keep up with the thing. I have written down everything I eat, weighed out no less, for, oh let's see, 10 years. On paper. I'm going to try the online thing now, but I know I won't be able to throw out my paper diary.

I know, this will bore half of you, but come on, I have to make myself do it somehow.

GOSSIP, DRAMA, MY MY MY!!!

2009-04-04T18:59:00.000-07:00

I used to LOVE drama. I walked around in high school and college like I was in a big-budget movie. (Um, college in 1997, not my recent return to school. Well, maybe I did it then, too. Whatever.)
Everything was a BIG DEAL.
And it still is a big deal, except now, I hate drama. At least, I hate the kind that you would find in junior high, high school, the sorority house, etc, etc.
I remember thinking, when I was 12 years old, "wow I can't wait 'til high school when everyone grows up and won't act like this!"
And I remember thinking, when I was 17 years old, "one more month of this shit and I will be going away, moving away, and in college I am sure people have more important things to do than talk shit about my style or my boyfriend or whether or not they think he is cute and whether I do or don't eat."
And I remember, in college, thinking "okay, fuck these idiots...someday soon I will have a real job in the real world and then I won't have to worry about people like this."
Well. John Mayer had it right when he told us that there was no such thing as the "real world." It really is all just a lie you have to rise above. And man, oh man, it is still infuriating.
See, I have to question whether I can call my job a "real job," but for the purpose of this post, I will consider it so. (It helps me earn money while I work on bigger, better, more important things. My job is not the end-all, be-all, just a little help along the way, if you will.)
Now, I work with someone who makes me crazy for several reasons. One of them I really can't expose, as much as I would like to.
The other one, well, I really don't care even if she did ever find this and read it, which I doubt she will.
First of all: she is nearly 20 years older than me, and I'm not a kid. You would think that someone with years of experience would know how to act like an adult in the workplace. The thing is, I know she hates me, and I don't care. Yet, she trash-talks every other employee in the place to me, every single day. Does she think I don't know that she does the same thing to everyone else? Worse, is everyone else so stupid that they don't realize the game she is playing? I am starting to fear the worst, because why hasn't anyone else said anything? She can talk all the trash she wants to and I will continue to change the subject. She will not get any (true)thing to use against me.

Until I quit, and then the game changes immensely.

Anyway. I had to post this, because I loved my job for a short time, and now I hate it for one reason: dealing with this drama. It is just one gossip, condescending remark, insult after another here, and I am trying to find a way to move on gracefully. I can't even really write about it, because the internet is public and I am sure someone would find this and make ME look like the bad person.

Argh. I have to remind myself: It Could Be Worse

UNSUCCESSFUL GOOGLE SEARCH

2009-04-03T17:39:00.000-07:00

Somewhere to the right of this post should be a link to Pieces of Note, which is my other blog. The one I rarely update. The one that is supposed to be my "literary" blog, my writing blog. I tend to not write when I am feeling crappy, and that has been 100% of the time lately, so forgive me for never updating it. I try. I really do.

Anyway, I posted a very, very, very rough beginning to a story that is 100% fictional, but inspired by a painting I saw in Chicago in 2006. I was on my last $40 at the time, had to wait 3 weeks for the rest of my student loan to kick in, and had nobody to ask for help, or else I would have bought this painting. I think it was $300, but it could have been more or less. I was sick (not terminally ill as the story would have you believe...remember, IT IS ALL FICTION) but was sick enough to not be 100% there, and I regret that to this day. For some reason, I cannot explain how much that damn painting meant to me. I am meant to have it. I am convinced that someday it will find me. Until then, I keep searching online for any reference to it at all. Usually all I get are porn sites and bathtub painting services.

If anyone has even the slightest idea about this painting that was for sale at the Bucktown Beanery in December 2006...let me know. Seriously. This painting and the fact that I passed it up still makes me cry.

Okay...back to cleaning now!!!

THE WEEKLY SQUEAK: APRIL 2, 2009

2009-04-02T12:13:00.000-07:00

The Weekly Squeak is just a random fact about myself, expanded into a blog post for your reading enjoyment.

This week: WORDS
(er, well, last week. I got a little bit behind. oops)

I can't remember a time when I was not a writer. Even in second grade, one-page "short story" assignments thrilled me and always resulted in an "A" (or an "S+" as it was known in second grade.)

I can say the same about reading. I was the "nerd" in school for much of my life. Not the nerd who dressed funny, wore huge glasses, or never bathed. The nerd who wanted to read a book when it was assigned. No, scratch that. I was the one who had already read the books that were assigned. The one who carried around thick novels designed for kids (or adults) much older and wiser, and actually understood them. That nerd.

I have an English degree.

So yeah, it would be accurate to say that I am somewhat obsessed with words.
And today I feel like talking about words that I hate.
My husband makes fun of me because I often say "I hate that word" when listening to people talk. It has nothing to do with the meaning of the word, or with the person saying it (I'll go into pronunciation another time) but merely the sound of the word. The way the letters look next to each other. Some words just freak me out.

This is by no means an exhaustive list, but I have to mention a few of the top offenders:

lunch: probably my least favorite word of all

munch: just gross
(oddly, "crunch" does not bother me)

folks: I hate the "olk" sound, ugh

morning: just bothers me

moist: I think everyone hates this word

cell phone: I call it a mobile. Bonus "fuck you" points when people say "celly." Ugh.

relax: the sound of it literally makes me tense up

toggle: sounds like toddler-speak

corn: the food is gross, the word is grosser

feisty: just hate it

I am not sure why the list is so short right now...I will definitely hear many more words I hate later, and remember how much I hate them. That's the problem. I usually can't remember most of them until someone says one of them out loud.

Anybody else out there have any words they hate simply because of the way they sound??

A DAY LATE--CRAP JOBS TUESDAY

2009-04-01T12:51:00.001-07:00

4/1/09: CREEP JOB TUESDAY (ER...WEDNESDAY)
PLEASE NOTE: THE BOLD IS MINE.

Company Owner looking for executive assistant.
(These days, a title like that is so vague, applicants have no idea what the hell they will be doing.)

The following requirements apply:
1. Intelligent - a broad knowledge base is preferred
Yet, be stupid enough to send all your personal info to an anonymous address for a vague job ad.
2. Not afraid of hard work - could be long hours sometimes
But spend your time sending me your resume before I even tell you what that means
3. Energetic - willing to get up out your seat when I need you
I will call you at 3a.m. so be ready
4. Good personality - I am looking for an upbeat person
SMILE!!! ALL THE TIME!!!
5. Great sense of humor - need to be able to laugh
I tell dirty jokes. Racist jokes. Sexist jokes. That's what I mean by "sense of humor."
6. Open minded - no demure or easily offended persons need apply
Like I said, dirty jokes. I might be kind of a pervert, so if me looking down your shirt will offend you, don't bother.
7. Efficient - multi tasking a necessity
There is no excuse for not being able to answer my email while picking up my Starbucks. Go buy a BlackBerry and a third arm.
8. Timely - when I ask for a task to be completed, I mean right now and not a week from now
Yes, I am the person who throws a fit when I show up 5 minutes after a store closes and they won't let me in. I'm...ME! (Wow. Either this guy has had some messed-up employees, or gives bad direction. A week late? Hm.)
9. Not overly emotional - I don't play word games and don't have time to be careful, so if you cry easily, please don't apply
I'd...like...a...robot.
10. Organized - I need someone to help organize me, so I really need an organized person around me
I'm a fucking ADD slob and don't want to do anything to try to remedy that, so I need YOU!!
11. Excellent memory - I need someone that can remember people, places, things, and tasks
because I won't.
12. Computer skills - MS Word, Excel, PowerPoint, Visio, Project, and Adobe Illustrator
13. Able to follow instructions exactly

For the chosen person, this can be a great opportunity. The salary will be commensurate with proven worth. Do not call, but send resume via e-mail.

"Proven worth?" Wow. The whole ad is full of aggressive wording and makes me think whoever works here will be given about 0% respect.

Maybe it really isn't that bad, but it sounds like hell to me.

I will find a better one next week, I promise.

LET ME SEE THAT THO-O-O-O-O-ONG!!

2009-03-30T14:53:00.000-07:00

I am really, very, extremely confused and concerned.

I would like to know how (and WHY) women would wear underwear (I can't possibly call them p-----s, ugh, foul word) under their yoga shorts.

Because they like to feel not one, but two layers of sweaty cotton wedged between their, um, cheeks? (And why cotton? WHY???!?)

Because they think it will hide their cellulite? (It doesn't. It does add a nice layer of padding, though.)

Because they think it will hide the fact that they need to shave/nair/wax/laser? (Again, no. Take care of that. Or wear shorts that COVER IT.)

Because someone taught them that not wearing underwear might possibly be something...dirty? (On behalf of commando girls, I beg to differ.)

Maybe they just don't know better.

And I am here to set them straight.

I see you back there, in the back row, trying to discreetly pull the wedgie out while the teacher looks the other way. I see you, the uncomfortable look on your face, as the waistband from your underwear creeps out above the waistband of your shorts, right before the teacher gives the "no picking no wiping no scratching" lecture and looks right in your direction. I see you, and you can't concentrate on your asanas because you, my friends, are concentrating too much on what is creeping up your ass.

I particularly want to shake some sense into those of you who wear granny pants under your yoga shorts. They bunch up. They look bad. They can't be comfortable in any way, and when you get a wedgie, my dears, I can't imagine how incredibly disgusting sweat-soaked cotton feels in that position. Oh, no. Not to mention the fact that you aren't old enough to be my granny, or even my mother. Ugh, just ugh.

And the thong. What is the point? You are wearing what amounts to a boy-cut swimsuit bottom. Do you wear a thong to the pool, under your swimsuit? (Oh my god, do you???) Are you trying to revive the visible thong trend, in Bikram yoga class? Surely it might feel better to put on a nice clean pair of yoga shorts, sans underwear, than throw those lycra babies on over the pair you have been wearing all day.

Whatever your reasons, please reconsider. It is hard enough for me not to pull my yoga shorts wedgie; it is painful for me to have to watch you deal with you and your underwear.

...she had dumps like a truck, truck, truck...

(I confess, I have NO IDEA what the hell the "Thong Song" even means, and yes, I did have to google the lyrics. Stupid, stupid song.)

NEW THINGS COMING SOON

2009-03-26T14:39:00.000-07:00

I can't promise it will be this week, and I can't promise I will do everything every week, but I am adding some regular features to give this blog a point:

Unsent Letter Thursdays: A letter to anybody or anything that I can't, won't, or just didn't send.

Sunday Confession: You know how you think everyone else is normal? They aren't. Read why I'm not right here, and be challenged to comment with your own confessions.

Crap Jobs Tuesday: Hooray! The worst of the worst help-wanted ads.

Random Recipes: Inserted on random days, some fun and tasty raw-food recipes. (You don't have to be a total raw-foodist like me to enjoy them.) Maybe when I get more time (and money) I will make some really fun things, like raw cupcakes!!!

IF NOT FOR NOVELISTS...

2009-03-26T11:47:00.000-07:00

...I would feel like a complete loser (as opposed to, say, a nearly-complete loser.)

There is a bit of backstory due here. Very recently, I was coerced into joining Facebook. (I say coerced like someone pulled my hair and twisted my arm, but really, I found out my junior high friends were all on it, and I had missed a get-together, so I joined.)
And yes. There, in all their glory, was my eighth-grade class of 1993. Careers! Kids! Travel! Oh, my!
And then there is me. Somehow, "went to college, moved out-of-state, went back to college, got sick, worked some crap jobs, went back to college again and finally got a degree, got married, got really sick, and then got another crap job" does not sound like something I would want to tell my old friends. Neither does "I work in retail." Or, "I shopped away my savings, and now I am trying to figure out how to learn something that evil HR harridans consider important or else go to yoga teacher training...BUT I HAVE A GREAT WARDROBE DAMMIT!!!"
Yeah. None of that. So while my old classmates have families (I'm not jealous...I have decided to remain child-free...but still) real careers, full passports, and great homes, I have...well...a part-time job that allows me to sit and blog. (Not really. Interesting, though, how years ago, all anybody wanted was a job that allowed ample time to read, write, call your friends...hmm, I guess that is "growing up.")
I'm not discounting what I do have. It's just that, when you are a "class brain" and you are 13 years old, the world seems wide open. 15 years later, you realize that somehow, life happened, and you have been passed on the career/life highway by everyone else, no matter if they got straight A's or sat in the back and scribbled all day (I'm not saying anyone did this. I'm making a point.)
So. Facebook. Old friends. Feeling of complete and utter loser-dom, with no way out.
And then I realized, I never really feel like a loser when reading novels penned by 20- or 30-somethings...novels that tell stories about people just like me...too much education, not enough time or money, too much "stuff" that got in the way. How do these writers know exactly what I am going through?

Oh. Yeah. That explains it. They must have had somewhat similar experiences.

Which is why I am back to thinking that maybe I should just be a writer after all. (Supplemented, of course, by something else. At least until I can go to yoga teacher training. Then, I will stay away from stores and restaurants and offices.)

I WOULDN'T STAY WITH A MAN WHO TREATED ME LIKE CRAP...

2009-03-25T11:19:00.000-07:00

...so why are we expected to take crap from people we work with?
I am not talking about clients or customers...I could deal with complaints all day. Because while there will always be people who will never be happy, usually I can at least resolve the problem.
I'm talking about dealing with people I actually have to work with, every day. Maybe I just can't stand it because I'm not doing what I really want to be doing. Which is another problem altogether. I said I would give myself until the beginning of next year to just decide what it is that I want to do. However, I am not going to sit around on my butt being unhappy until then. I have a few ideas so far, but my problem is actually making the decision, and being happy with it (says the girl with about 6 majors in college).
Even when I was finishing my degree, I considered paralegal work. Actually, I considered law school, but knew that with loans and other things, that would not happen, at least not immediately. So I thought about being a paralegal. When I worked insurance claims, I did a lot of the things that a paralegal does, even though that went way above and beyond my job description (what I was paid for, etc). I often wonder why I quit, but then I remember: I tend to be impatient. If after 18 months, I don't even get a real review (other than a review of my "team"), any kind of recognition for what I do (besides from one person), or even a simple "thank you" once in a while, I get discouraged. I know I jumped the gun, but something about saving someone else's ass every week while they got paid twice as much as me made me very angry. Oh well. It was good experience, and I actually liked the work itself...just maybe not the "team" (essentially led by me) that took credit for everything and did...very little. So yeah. Paralegal work. I know I could do it, would like doing it for the right firm, and would be proud to say "paralegal" if anyone asked what I did. It could even lead to bigger things...people go to law school in their 30's...right? However...it is desk work, a lot of indoor work, basic paper-pushing sometimes...and I always wanted to try to avoid that. Well. It's still in the mix for a possibility. I am preparing my resume to send to quite a few firms. It can't hurt to try.
And then there is teaching yoga. I know I should have spent all the damn money I spent this past year going to teacher training, but I never would have made it. I would still be scared, if I got a chance to go in the future, that I wouldn't make it. Autoimmune diseases are no joke. It might sound pretty harmless on webmd.com or whatever, but they really simplify everything. Really. Now, I know that many, many yoga teachers have other jobs. Which is fine. I have always wanted to bartend...maybe not in 20 years...and the smoking thing would make it harder to find a job (I quit smoking 2 years ago, and don't ever want to work where smoking is allowed). There is nothing wrong with waitressing(well, besides that I hate touching food). My grandma raised four of her daughters waitressing. That kicks ass. Back to yoga...I have seriously considered selling all the rest of my stuff (all those expensive purses and shoes I "needed") to try to go to teacher training. Like, next year. Because I would have to get a lot of other shit in order first. Teach some yoga, write a little, tend bar or check coats or whatever. First up: confidence. Need it for both. No way will I apply to work in a club feeling/looking like I do now. Same with yoga. Half naked, sweaty, and teaching? Yeah, gotta work on things first. .
Thus ends my ramble..just throwing some ideas out there...

THINGS I LIKE/LOVE...AND THINGS I DON'T LIKE

2009-03-22T12:58:00.001-07:00

THINGS I LIKE/LOVE:

1. Yoga.
2. Fashion. (okay. I do "love fashion" especially in terms of self-expression. However, this is definitely an Alice-down-the-tunnel thing for me. I tend to shy away from self-expression if I see someone more successful, more happy, more fill-in-the-blank than myself. I immediately decide that I must imitate their style, in order to fill my emptiness. Fashion, then, is a dangerous area for me, and I should probably just stick to exploring it on my own time rather than using it as a way to explore careers and make contacts. )
3. Reading.
4. Writing.
5. Nutrition--specifically holistic nutrition and raw foods (again, though...the "fanatic factor" and recent market-ization of raw foods pisses me off, and if I think about it too much, I tend to feel like my head will explode.)
6. Fitness
7. Dogs
8. Natural grocery stores (I could spend hours in one. Every single day.)
9. School/college.
10. Oh, no. I am sure I will think of a lot more. My sort-of-bad mood could be contributing to this pathetically short list.

THINGS I DON'T LIKE...

1. Working FOR somebody. I never do well if I am not in charge, or at least working WITH somebody. If I have no real responsibility, don't expect me to perform as if I am doing something of utmost importance.
2. Touching people, for the most part. Many people are fine for touching, they pass the personal space test. But the reason I discontinued cosmetology/esthetician school, and nixed the idea of massage school, is that I will never be comfortable touching 100% of people, and in that line of work, you can't pass up even one person for that reason. There is no real criteria that decides whether someone is touch/don't touch. Maybe I am just weird.
3. Food. My husband is awesome at restaurant work. I can't/won't eat most things, and therefore can't/won't work around it. "Nope, sorry, can't tell you how the pasta is, I have Celiac disease..." Er. Won't. Fly.
4. Selling. Trust me, I know that businesses would die if nobody could sell, but if I am hired to be a personal trainer, I want to be a personal trainer. Not the person that has to pull out a script and a sales book and tell people that I can help them if they commit to $1500 (about a tenth of which I will ever personally see) all while wearing a fake smile and a stupid navy blue polo shirt that is stiff with starch and 11 sizes too large. No. Thanks.
5. Being judged all day. Reason number 2 that I would not be the best hairstylist. 19 clients could sing my praise, but the one that seemed unhappy would throw my day off track. I realize that I can't possibly make everyone happy and I just need to get over it, but that one negative judgment would make me mess up the rest of the day. This is a pattern in my life. I need to either get over this (which seems unlikely) or find a career that would minimize this kind of situation.
6. Being cold and/or doing things that cause physical harm. I understand the need to save money and energy, but if a place is cold enough to make my nose run all day long, there's a problem.
7. Having to dress up, yet dealing with things that ruin what you are wearing. Enough said.
8. Sitting. All. Day.
9. Making phone calls. You know how I suck at dealing with people who insult me or my work? It gets much worse if it is on the phone. I will never do telesales. I will become a topless dancer first.
10. The fact that this list basically says "I HATE WORKING!!!!" and really says nothing about general paths I should avoid. Damn. Does this mean I am destined to be a lazy loser who does nothing?
Eh. No. I know that I am not the only person out there who feels like I do...and I know that the ones who are ambitious and creative are successful. All it takes is a little time and creativity...right?

p.s. I know people out there will start ranting about how I need to "get my foot in the door" and "stop complaining and pay my dues." And to that I say this: I have worked at just about every job imaginable. I have tried to climb a corporate ladder, by basically doing monkey's work and following the "career path" outlined on their website for godsakes, going back to school under their direction and taking company sponsored classes that would make prison seem fun. Doing this, I have not made any great contacts, paid any "dues", gotten any great experience, or even made a move upwards. Sure, there is a lot to say about just "having a job and being able to pay your bills," but for anyone to say that that simple fact should make me content and complete is just facile and demeaning.

NEW DIRECTION

2009-03-22T12:35:00.000-07:00

When I was younger, I thought that I whole-heartedly believed in that whole "No matter what you do, be it saving orphans or flipping burgers, be the best at it, and you will be happy."
Wait, you say. You thought you whole-heartedly believed that? Can you be any more flimsy?
Er, no. Probably not. And I have recently vocalized (to myself, at least) exactly why I have been such a jellyfish.
I can't really blame anyone else. I should have seen it coming. I was a precocious child, kicked everyone's ass when it came to grades, passed for 5 years younger until I opened my mouth. (My dad was always saying to me, "Keep your mouth shut and you can order off the children's menu.") However, I also trusted others' authority 100%. (Until later. Trust me, that is a disaster best saved for another story.) Sure, those of you who know me now know that I question "experts" all the time, especially those who like to tell me what is "best" for me. Growing up, though, I thought that my family was just like the perfect television family (until my parents split when I was nine years old, I was practically the only kid I knew with two biological parents, still married, at home) and that what they told me was 100% accurate. It may have been. But if you know even basic facts about psychology, you know that kids often learn more from observing than direct instruction. And somehow, I learned that making people happy would ensure that they liked me and therefore make me happy, no matter what I had to do to earn that. So through years of high school, college, my early 20's...that is what I did. When I felt like just being me wasn't good enough, I tried very hard to be "different" (you know, that elusive "different" that is really just another misguided youth trying to one-up her friends to "win" for the week, or the night, or eventually, forever. So hooray, now I have an ugly tattoo on my back, among other things.) Not once did I stop to wonder if everything I was doing really made me happy. And this continued, for years and years, until a guy (I will be nice and not say "an asshole." Oops.) I was dating broke up with me and I spent about two weeks in bed. I finally realized that I was nothing but a dying fish, flopping aimlessly, trying to hold on and let go at the same time, able to see the much-needed ocean but just unable to reach it. So I moved on. I did a lot of things that got me the eye-rolls, the lectures (still from my mother, and in trying to figure out why, I am sure it has to do with her own mental state, but forgive me if I have more to do now than analyze her actions), the sighs. I went back to school, supposedly to teach, but changed my mind in the end. Did I really, honestly think I would get a great job with my degree? Probably not. I should have gone back for Nutrition and Dietetics, but someone talked me out of that (see? jellyfish) and I ended up studying literature and writing for those 2 years. I figured I would be able to do that elusive "something" with my degree, but the truth was, I just really like going to school. I wish I could have a penny from each person who complained about it. I could be a student for life with that money.
Back to the point. Here I am, nearly 30 years old, and lost. I know only a few things for sure: one, I am unhappy and two, I am not meant to be where I am. So I am trying to make three lists: things I like/love, things I can do well, and things I want to learn more about.
I know many people out there advocate specialization (you know, don't spread yourself too thin...to which I usually stick out my tongue) and that's all well and good. Maybe I resist the idea of sticking to one thing because so far, I feel like the only thing I have been able to specialize in, is being a jellyfish (spineless, yet stinging). And that is just about the last thing I want to specialize in, above only a few things, such as flipping burgers (no offense, but I'm vegetarian) and allopathic medicine. Yikes.

THINGS I DIDN'T BUY-THIS PICKUP LINE

2009-03-11T13:10:00.001-07:00

Okay, I know I'm supposed to be talking about actual things that I actually didn't spend money on, but this was too good to keep to myself.

First, I need to explain the state of myself right now. Out of shape, hair about 3 MONTHS overdue and therefore very rat-brown, red eyes from constantly being around cat hair in the store.
And today. Gym hair, due to me choosing the gym over a blow-out. Bad make-up, due to almost being late for work. Split lip and red spots on face, due to dropping a bag of cat food on my face yesterday (don't ask). Hole in sweater, thanks to job hazards. Gross, too-big, old pants from Forever 21, due to non-laundry-doing husband. The list goes on.

So this (admittedly adorable) guy comes in, dressed in a 3-piece suit, carrying a briefcase.
"Wow, this is a store just for pets, huh?"

Nope, dude...it's really a fetish store in disguise. See? Fooled ya, haha!!

*Guy walks over to a rack of dog shirts, browses.*

"Anyway. I'm blahblahblah with blahblahblah company. Is your office manager or manager around?"

Yeah, right. I have learned well from my boss. Deny, deny, deny!!!

"Actually, not today. Sorry. "
*Hoping he picks Friday to come back and bug someone else.*

"Oh. Okay. I'll have to come back, then."
*Walks toward exit.*
*Without turning around, shouts:*

"You're beautiful, by the way!"

Yeah. Ha, hahaha, hahahahahaha. Seriously. If the fat, the bad outfit, the messy hair and makeup, and the cat-food-attacked face didn't stop him, why did the ring on my finger not?
I will never understand men.

Too bad, though. If I had been single, and he had actually had the balls to say it to me, and not the entire store, I might have given him my number. But I'm not, and maybe if I see him again I should set him straight so he doesn't miss his chance with a girl who actually is single.

IT'S NOT WORKING

2009-03-10T20:15:00.000-07:00

So yeah. Eating eggs and fish and all that?
Bad idea, I guess. I have been so sick for the past few days. I woke up at about 4:00 this morning feeling like somebody had filled my stomach and intestines with knives and then placed them in a vise.
I still can't say no to the occasional sushi, but for the most part, it looks like I'm to be a vegan girl for life.
I guess I will start posting smoothie and fruit pictures again, too:)

IS THIS APPROPRIATE?

2009-03-08T17:02:00.000-07:00

I am seriously frightened for the future of the world when it is appropriate to respond to an employment ad (for any job) with "myspace page" instead of a resume or even just a letter of interest. Scary.

Am I just getting old?

DESIGNERS FOR PAYLESS SHOES

2009-03-08T10:20:00.001-07:00

Welcome to "Stuff I Didn't Buy!!!"

Today's item comes from one of my favorite categories: SHOES!!!

Lela Rose for Payless Elsby Brocade Pump

Now, at $38.00, these would not have broken the bank account. However, I chose not to buy them. Even though I love peep-toes, I love brocade, I love the silver-y color, and I love the little bow, I said "no."
First of all...faux wood. I do own a pair of wedges with faux wood, and I only wear them occasionally (as in, to an outdoor concert where there may be mud that destroys my shoes.) Faux wood on shoes is more obvious than faux leather (which is fine for vegans...I mean faux leather that tries to look like leather). Maybe nobody else ever pays attention to that kind of thing, but I do, and I don't like faux wood on shoes.
But the silver brocade still called my name...and then I remembered another reason why I should not buy them...my past with Payless shoes.
When I was 20 and had just moved back to this hellhole from Colorado, I worked at a music store, bought all my clothes at Forever 21, and thought that having 100 pairs of cheap shoes meant I was the shiznit. (Not really, but whatever.) I really wanted this pair of grey pumps from a catalog, but they were $300 (which, unbelieveably, was almost my entire rent back then!) and I didn't buy them. But hey! I walked into Payless, and there was a dead ringer (in the way that those plastic surgery people who want to look like celebrities are dead ringers for whatever celebrity they are trying to look like--meaning FAKE and OBVIOUSLY FAKE!)
I paid $12.99 for them and wore them out that night. To a club.

And 30 minutes into it, my friend Michael waved his hand at me, and said "Look up at the camera!" and took a photo. Of me crouching down, drunkenly putting wet napkins under the straps of the shoes. He captioned it "This is a new dance move called 'Ouch my fucking shoes hurt'" and I never lived that story down.

I have dancer's feet. They are destroyed, they have very high arches that require support, they swell from overuse. Even expensive, well-made shoes hurt my feet. So the $12.99 Payless shoes were donated to the Salvation Army the next day. I hope some (lucky bitch) woman with narrow, cute feet found them and is still enjoying them in all their yummy fake-leatherness.

Finally...for $38.00, I can go to DSW and score some real leather shoes that won't give me a blister the size of a silver dollar.

And, where would I wear silver brocade shoes? It's like my dress collection...I have nowhere to wear any of those things, anyway.

SO I AM SERIOUSLY CONSIDERING...

2009-03-08T10:16:00.001-07:00

giving my blog a theme of "Things I Didn't Buy Today."

Why? Well, I think my blog sucks because it doesn't have a theme or a purpose, and it is just not interesting to read about a nearly-30's girl who doesn't craft or sew or knit (but that may be changing!) and who can no longer afford to spend her entire paycheck on clothes. And I won't be actually buying new things nearly every day for a while, but I sure do still see things that I would consider buying, and don't, for whatever reason.

So I guess I can throw in some other themed days, and definitely post things I do buy, if and when I do, but I figured "Stuff I Didn't Buy" would be funnier.

And we shall see how long this lasts.

I LOVE SETH ROGEN. I LOVE CHIHUAHUAS. OH, PLEASE, SOMEONE HELP ME...

2009-03-08T09:50:00.000-07:00

Last night I ran into Whole Foods at 10:47 p.m.
With only thirteen minutes before closing time, I made a beeline for the wheatgrass I so desperately needed and headed to the checkout. Of course, there was the inevitable poky person in front of me, so I had to wait as she complained, counted coins, and cursed the cashier. To waste time, I looked up at the magazine rack. And nearly died.

I saw this:

Now. I am not really sure if I have ever mentioned it, but I have the world's biggest crush on Seth Rogen. No, really. I'm not even sure if Kevin Griffin (from Better Than Ezra) would win over Seth if it came to a "Battle of the Crushes." I mean it. Maybe that is a good thing. I mean, Seth Rogen does kind of remind me of my husband, so that's a good thing...right?

(But...curly hair...*chases after Ben with a home perm kit*)

(Really...notice that both Kevin and Seth have curly hair, while Ben's hair is about as far from curly as it gets.)

You might also not know about my MAGAZINE BUYING BAN. At the beginning of December, I put myself on an until-further-notice magazine buying ban. For two reasons. Well, three.
One: I filled the paper media recycling bin every week, and I don't read the daily newspaper. Ugh, waste of trees.
Two: I was buying, at that point, about 40 magazines a month. 40! Fashion, fitness, yoga, spa, news...you name it, I read it all. Yeah, go ahead, do the math. How sad.
Three: Magazines serve ~~one~~ two purposes in my life: to make me feel like crap about myself/my eating/my exercise/my fashion sense and TO MAKE ME WANTWANTWANTWANT. I mean, that is what they are for...they are driven by advertising dollars, so they make you feel "less than" unless you buy what is in the ad, and then feature pictures of things that you simply MUST HAVE until, of course, you get them from your favorite online store and that $600 handbag is really made just as crappily as the $50 one. Yeah. Talk about "going to hell in a handbag." Oops. It's "handbasket." Whatever.

So, I said NO MORE MAGAZINES. I did fill out some survey for a free year of Self and Shape, which kind of suck as far as magazines go, but are nice for treadmill reading. I had a few slip-ups, and one time Ben bought me BARK, but come on...

The grand total of magazines that have actually been paid for by this household since December 2?

Four.

That is, er, ten percent of what I used to buy in one month. In over three months. So I consider that a triumph.

However. Back to Seth. I seriously considered buying that Vanity Fair last night. But I didn't. See, at the moment, $4.95 for a magazine seems like a lot to me. I have a lot of stuff I need to pay in order to put myself in a better position for the future. And maybe I haven't been perfect, but I have been improving.

And chihuahuas. If you don't know of my "I must own 10 chihuahuas someday" goal and my love for the breed, you haven't been paying attention. I wanted my first chi when I was about 6 and the neighbor girl had them. My parents said "no, they are mean...and we have the Labs."
Humph. How boring, for a little 6-year old girl who could not decide if she wanted to be a tomboy or a ballerina princess. Labs were great for the tomboy part, but ballerina princesses do NOT have drooling, doggy-smelling, duck-retrieving dogs.
So the stars of Beverly Hills Chihuahua (which I loved, by the way) on the cover increased my interest...probably more than Seth did, to be honest.

But still, I told myself "no."

Besides...I don't even read Vanity Fair.

So...if any of you out there are offended by Seth's cute little jiggly belly, or by the bow-tie/barrel ensemble, and you would like to get rid of your copy (or even just your cover!) of this month's Vanity Fair, please let me know. It would be much appreciated.

Because nothing in the world is sexier than a man with a little beer belly, wearing glasses, a bow tie, and a barrel, holding a chihuahua and gazing at the camera. Nothing.

BEVERLY HILLS CHIHUAHUA

2009-03-04T14:57:00.000-08:00

Ok. First, let's have a little talk about how much I DON'T like Disney movies. Disney anything. I remember helping my friend Cesare shop for a gift for his girlfriend...oh, nine years ago?...and having to go to the Disney store. Oh, I nearly barfed on the cute little tees and pajama sets.
I don't know what it is, since I loved my Chip'n'Dale cartoons as a kid, but lately, Disney stuff just makes me feel kind of...horky.

Anyway. I wanted to see Beverly Hills Chihuahua ever since I first saw the poster. That was something like last January. For some reason, we never made it to the theatre, and I had been (not-so-) patiently awaiting its arrival on DVD. Yesterday I logged on to redbox.com and scored a copy for the night for the bargain price of $1.08.

My husband had his reservations. Sure, he loves our girls, but a movie about talking chihuahuas? A Disney movie about talking chihuahuas? Um..."I'll watch it for you" was his take on the whole thing.

Yes, it was cheesy and Disney and silly, but I cried. At about 4 parts. My husband told me that someday he would buy it for me just to see my face when the pack of chihuahuas comes out into the desert and scares off the mountain lions. And even though I hate sequels, I am secretly hoping there will be one.

This all might have something to do with the fact that Chloe, the chihuahua in the movie, looks almost exactly like my Marley. Marley was a chihuahua I had in 2004. We found her a new home before she was a year old because I got too sick and messed up to take care of her. I had to leave for a month and I am still upset that my mom or my dad would not care for her for that month. I miss her so much! I hope she is happy still.

I am hoping that I can find a used copy of the movie for less than retail...until then...no mas!

VEGAN, VEGETARIAN, FLEXITARIAN...WHAT???

2009-03-01T07:51:00.000-08:00

With so much going on in my life right now, I am infinitely sick of being stressed out about food.
There are already so many things I can't or won't eat due to Hashimoto's, severe digestive dysfunction, wheat intolerance etc.
Add to that the fact that through experience, I KNOW that I feel better eating an entirely raw vegan diet (well, "beegan" since I do use the bee pollen...) and it seems like I have a clear answer.
Right?
Well. No.
See, I'm a calorie counter. And before you go off telling me how I should not do this, blahblahblah, just save it. It is what I know, what I do, and it isn't like it prevents me from working, going to yoga, playing with my dogs, etc. You get the picture. I have been a counter for 10+ years. I know by heart the calories per ounce of all fruits and vegetables, calories per ounce of fresh-squeezed juices, calories per serving of most foods (even packaged foods I have not touched in over 5 years)--by weight. Yes, by the gram. You could say I have a thing for numbers (which is also why I am working out a plan to--don't shoot me--take some programming classes at the local college. The economy!! Must give self job security!! Nitpicky copyediting skills plus math aptitude=awesome programmer. Right? But that's another story. Promise). If I can't measure it, I probably won't eat it (with the odd exception of sushi, because while I was crazy enough to bring a food scale to a restaurant at 20, I just can't do that anymore. Take-out sushi? You bet it goes on the scale. I have it down to a science I won't even go into, allowing for the fish, the rice...I don't eat the sushi with other crap, so that doesn't matter).

So. I'm a calorie counter. And on raw foods, I must eat a LOT of calories to stay as active as I am and not feel like I am starving. Like, 2800 a day, maintenance level for someone like me who works on their feet all day and hates elevators and goes to 90 minute Bikram yoga classes followed by an hour at the gym every day.
Which would be fine, if "maintenance" were acceptable.
It's not.

(Note to self: It's time to get serious about this. You have only liked your body a total of one year since you were 20. This is not some age-related metabolism thing. You have your health figured out. Do something. Just because an XS at almost every store is too big DOES NOT mean you are thin. In your case it means you have a tiny frame and the weight you are carrying looks 5 times as bad on you as it would on a taller and/or larger boned person. Stop pigging it!!)

So. The level I need to be at is next to impossible, with my "need" for giant 600- calorie smoothies (juice and plain fruit only, too--nothing added, I just need a LOT) and 310-calorie Organic Food Bars (the only really portable thing I can eat--don't say fruit or carrots--remember I can't really chew or digest any vegetables or most whole fruit--sucks). I mean, NOBODY would be satisfied this way. Trust me. Oh, if I could just eat until I felt full (which is what I fully intend to do when I am in better shape--it works for maintenance, at least for me) then 100% raw vegan would be so, so easy.
But right now the focus is weight loss, so I am adding in a few more foods here and there--things that are easy to take to work, things that help my crappy (no pun intended) digestive system, things that make me feel more satisfied.
I can't help but feel like some sort of icky failure. I mean, eggs? Really? Sure, they are organic, and I do like them, but...gross. And fish? I like it, but if I had to catch it and clean it myself, I would say "no freaking way!"
I'm sure I'll get 1000 comments about "doing this all the wrong way" but sorry, I don't have the faith in "just eat what you want now, sometime in the next 5 years 20 pounds will come off." Yeah, I would like to feel good sooner than 5 years from now, kthanksbye.
See, I have NEVER eaten anything close to the SAD (standard American diet). Red meat? Quit when I was 15. Fried stuff? Not since high school. Packaged food? A thing of the past. So my calorie counting is completely different than, say, a Weight Watchers calorie counting plan (oops, sorry, POINTS) where you can factor in a McDonald's meal and a fudge brownie. Nope. I'm talking about eating my mostly-fruit diet with some lentils, oats, eggs, maybe a little goat dairy.

WHOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOOOO, I am LIVING ON THE EDGE NOW!!!!!!!

Sorry, I had to do that.
Anyway. Boring, long post, I know, but I had to let that out. I'll update you all on my guilt about being a crappy vegan (or non-vegan, if you will).

TODAY'S SMOOTHIE 2/27/09

2009-02-27T11:39:00.000-08:00

Not very exciting. Please pardon the measuring cup wheatgrass shot container and the mess. Also please excuse the crap photo; I need to somehow fix the real camera:

fresh squeezed orange juice
pineapple
papaya
cherries
fresh-made wheatgrass juice

and the VitaMix in the background!!! Hooray!!

I might post a new one tonight if I get inspired. My husband is working late so I will be bored.

I THINK THIS MAKES MY HUSBAND QUALIFY FOR "BEST HUSBAND EVER" AWARD

2009-02-26T19:28:00.000-08:00

I got home from yoga all sweaty and gross (like usual). Husband says "Can you watch the girls so I can take a shower?"
So I am in the kitchen trying to entertain two hyper puppies and he calls me in, and says:

(wait. are you ready for this?)

"Hey, can you bring your yoga clothes here, I'll wash them for you."

Yes, my husband offered to do the gross job of rinsing out my soaking, sweaty yoga clothes and towel while he was in the bathroom (usually I wash them out in the tub at about 2am when I go to bed).
Wow. Just wow.

TODAY'S SMOOTHIE

2009-02-23T09:44:00.000-08:00

You really can't tell, but it's a gorgeous mauve-y lavender.
Too bad I downed the wheatgrass juice Ben made for me before taking the photo...it was a beautiful emerald green (sometimes it has more yellow in it; today, it was pure green!)

fresh squeezed pink grapefruit juice
papaya
cherries
blueberries
pineapple
E3Live blue-green algae

The only thing not organic was the papaya...it is IMPOSSIBLE to find organic papaya, and even though I hate that, I love papaya and I love what it does for me, so it stays.

And yes, I do like to drink my smoothies from a wine glass. Classy, eh?

SOMETIMES BEING A GROWN-UP SUCKS

2009-02-22T18:34:00.000-08:00

You know, I have a real love-hate relationship with being an adult.
As I approach 30, I realize that I've been through things that would cause many people to give up, shut down, or freak out (not that I haven't freaked out a little bit, but I'm still here!)
I also realize that, as much as I loved going away to college, moving away on a whim, and pulling all-nighters several times a week, I feel more and more like me as I get older. When I was younger, I had no personal style, didn't like myself very much, and just latched on to someone else's mannerisms and styles for a while before tiring of them and moving on. (That sounds worse than it is. I promise.) I see people in their early 20's now, people who seem so much more...together...than I ever thought I did, and I wonder how they do it. And then I see photos of myself and think "Okay, I looked like I had it together, but inside, I knew what was really going on, and it certainly wasn't poised."
That's my word for this year-"poised." Ever since someone used it to my face, I have seen that "poised" is exactly what I have been aiming for all my life. People try to compliment you, call you "cute" or "hot" or "attractive" or any number of things, but somewhere deep inside, you freak out, thinking, "How long does 'hot' last? Aging is scarier than death...will 'cute' still be around when I'm 50? Will it matter?" Maybe it will. Maybe I'll still be "hot" when I'm 50...60...90? (Who knows, with the raw food and the Bikram yoga, har har har). But one thing I know. "Poised" defies age, income, education level, job status, social class, and trends. It's just timeless. My teeth aren't perfect (in fact, they suck) and my hair may be falling out again, but poise doesn't require a set of veneers and new extensions every three weeks.
At least not in my estimation.

Back to the whole "being a grown-up sucks" theme...I have to go clean now. I am so sick of having a messy, messy apartment. Hooray for cleaning!!!

THEY SHOULD CALL IT GUILT.COM

2009-02-22T18:25:00.001-08:00

I was really, really excited to see Foley & Corinna on gilt.com a few days ago.
In November, I really, really wanted a Jet Setter Jr. but could not find one that did not have (barf, gag) gold hardware. Sorry, girls, I know you love it, but with my coloring and my jewelry, it just looks tacky. Like orange. Looks great on some people, but on me? EEECCH.
Anyway. I settled for a different cream-colored F&C bag, called ... the City Clutch... maybe? I can't remember. I just remember immediately sending it back because it was UGLY. Just gross.
And then I was sad. Especially since I am now supposed to be doing a lot of NOT shopping and instead paying rent and bills and all those fun grown-up things. I would NEVER own a F&C. (Not that it matters. I know.)
Well, all that changed the other day. See, months ago, I ordered a dress from Gilt and had to return it (stupid vanity sizing; what, am I supposed to shop in the children's store now? ugh) and since they don't actually return things, I had a big ol' store credit. So I scored one of these:

Bonus if it is big enough to carry all my work crap. That would be sweet!!
So...FREE (well, like free, since I really just used an old credit that I never would have gotten a refund for) spring bag. Hooray for me!!

And yet somehow I still feel guilty. Go figure.

FASHION WEEK AVOIDANCE

2009-02-20T12:33:00.000-08:00

Nope. I really don't care about Fashion Week. I'm actually kind of sick of dressing up for work and am back to drooling over stuff on vickerey.com and theycatalog.com. Such is life.

Now pick your chins up off the floor.

I've been doing a lot of yoga. As much as my body can handle. I've also been taking some shitty phone pictures of my girls, because my husband broke the camera.
So enjoy. Soon I might actually try to ... you know, WRITE something...

Oh, and I changed my profile photo. Please ignore the background of piles of clothing on top of all FOUR dressers that I own. Yes, those are full as well. Yes, I know I have a problem.

Finally, puppy pictures

those EARS!!!!

Satchel the Chihuagi (mostly Chihuahua, a little bit o' Corgi) is going to get BIG around the middle, I can tell. The pink nose is history, but the blue eye is here to stay:)

You are looking at my ears, aren't you?!!??!? Stop! I KNOW they are HUGE!!!

MORE FUN TALKING TO DOG MANNEQUINS

2009-02-17T19:52:00.003-08:00

ME: Frustratingly tries to put XS Juicy Couture dog raincoat on dog mannequin labeled "XS."
Urrrggh!!! Sorry, sweetie, I think you are definitely vanity sized.

DOG MANNEQUIN: ...

Yes, I really do get paid for this.

ME, INDECISIVE?

2009-02-16T15:22:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I still haven't made this bad boy "private." I'm not sure that I am going to, either, but for now I'll just promise to keep you all updated.

I did disappear for a while, and I'm not sure if I will be posting every single day. I'm sure I won't be posting about the same kind of stuff anymore, and if reading about yoga and refinishing furniture found in the alley won't thrill you, I apologize, but my life is changing and so is my blog.

And damn it, I'm HAPPY about it. Sometime last August, I "took a break" from yoga, and (not blaming this on not doing yoga, but it is interesting to think about) somehow became this horrible materialistic monster. Okay, maybe it wasn't SO bad, but really, I remember getting ready to leave for our destination wedding in December 2007 and going to H+M to buy myself a "trip wardrobe." I was SO DAMN HAPPY over my $200 bag of clothes. And somehow, mere months later, I became convinced that a bra must cost $200 or it was a cheap piece of shit. (Okay, again I exaggerate, but still. My point has been made.) I was happier before. A LOT happier. And I'm working my way back to being happy like that again.

Let's see. Yes, we has the drama right now. And as much as it does suck, at least I am not stuck in a "Groundhog Day" existence. When I die, I might have a list of drama longer than Route 66, but nobody can ever say my life has EVER been boring!! And that's fine. I'm also finally getting my shit together. Once upon a time I was happy because I was totally self-sufficient. What happened to that? I want that back! I do!
Hmm. Yoga. I went back. And it was like I took a few days off, not six whole months. It's amazing. And I wonder why I ever stopped going (being sick, yes, but there was something else...?)
And stuff. I am starting to clean out the "stuff" in this place. Amazing what accumulates in a year. The good news? I'm not moving. NOPE. I have looked and looked and looked and there is no way we will save money by moving. Either the utilities will cost more, the car insurance will cost more, the gas will cost more....or the place is the size of our living room. So we stay. And that's that. I'm happy about that.

And as for all the people who think they know the whole story, and hold it against me...my husband is my best friend. I "married late" according to many people (hah, I was 28) and prior to dating my husband, I dated a LOT. A LOT A LOT. And I know what is out there. And I have seen friends' marriages, my parent's marriage, strangers' marriages...and while my husband may have been being a complete and utter stupid idiot the past few years, he loves me, he is my best friend, and I love him. And I think a lot of people never even find that. So say what you will, but I believe in marriage, and not in divorcing at the first sign of imperfection.

And that's it. Sorry if this is boring, and that I haven't been writing as much. I'll be around.
Until then, I will share with you an amusing story.
The highway right by our apartment is completely closed--they are tearing it up and re-doing the entire thing. We live right by the bridge, and I walk over it to get to yoga every day. Today there was a guy standing there at the bridge, yelling down at the construction workers: "YOU HAVE THE BEST JOB EVER!! YOU GET TO FUCKING DESTROY SHIT!!! YEAH!!!"

Gotta love the enthusiasm.

p.s. ANONYMOUS...(i know who you are)...that is creepy. I was writing this post when your comment e-mail came through...it's like we're telepathic...I'm still here, just busy at work, and if this goes private, you'll be invited, of course!!!

ABOUT E-MAILS...

2009-01-28T19:26:00.001-08:00

I forgot to mention...if you "comment" with your email, I will "reject" it so it doesn't get published.

GOING PRIVATE

2009-01-27T21:30:00.000-08:00

please leave me your email, unless you are positive I already know it, if you want to keep reading.
i have to set my blog to private as soon as possible, so by the end of this week it will be un-readable unless I have invited you (at least according to what I understand from blogger).
if you are by chance not on my "followers" list, please let me know who you are by giving a link to your blog, or telling me a little about yourself...just trying to make sure you are not anyone that I don't want to invite (trust me...if you were, you would know. but still).

thanks for understanding! it will make me feel a LOT better...

SHE TALKS TO DOG MANNEQUINS

2009-01-26T13:27:00.000-08:00

With all the drama going on in my world, my job has already become a place of solace. I talk to people about their (and my) spoiled pets all day long, pet and play with dogs, do some ad design, and a ton of other things, all enjoyable.
The other day I created a window display.
(I would love to include a photo but due to the drama mentioned above, details about my place of work must be kept secret.)
I was so excited that my creation will be seen by everyone that walks by! Remember...I have felt in the past that I was underused at jobs, overqualified for the things I have done...so some real responsibility is very, very exciting!
Anyway. I had to dress dog mannequins as part of my display. They are like stuffed animals, but not floppy, with wire in the legs and tail to pose them. They come in XS, S, M, L, and XL to fit different sizes of dog clothes. They have no features, like the human mannequins with a head but no face; they have nondescript ears, no noses, no eyes, no mouth, no toenails, nothing. It's weird but in some way they are kind of cute.
I caught myself talking to them under my breath (I do work alone for the most part so it's not like anyone was there to hear me.) "Don't you look cute?" I would say after putting a hoodie sweater on one of them. And immediately I would shake my head and roll my eyes at myself.
Then five minutes later, I would catch myself doing it again. Ugh, am I really that stressed out that I am reduced to conversing with eyeless plush dogs?

Oh, well. I am guessing that it would only be a problem if they started talking back.

Oh and...

2009-01-22T23:58:00.000-08:00

Every thing, big or little, that happens, just makes me stronger. Yeah, it is the most overdone cliche in existence, but it's true.

Tomorrow (later today??!) I will prove to myself that I finally have a job that I can still do while suffering from intense stress and anxiety.

Which may not sound like much, but trust me, in the past I have been paralyzed by lesser situations.

I guess this is a good thing. I have to grasp on to it.

...

2009-01-22T23:33:00.000-08:00

Today is, quite possibly, the worst day of my life.
That is saying a lot, since I have nearly died twice in my life, and was assaulted at 14.

I'm not a kid anymore, but today I saw things that nobody should ever, ever have to see, no matter what their age. I'm so done pointing fingers and/or having them pointed at me.

I should know by now that things are never really easy, but it is beyond me why it seems like everything I touch turns to shit. As much as I am trying to stay positive (this from me, the type-a world-class cynic) I find it hard to do anything right now but be very pissed off.

I feel powerless...and that was done completely on purpose.

I apologize for the cryptic blog and the fact that none of it will ever be explained. I just need to bitch at someone and it is 2a.m. and I have nobody to bitch to...just the computer.

CHEAP SECRET OF THE DAY

2009-01-21T16:51:00.000-08:00

Target shoes rock.

Seriously. I bought a few pairs of Target pumps a couple of months ago--patent ones--because I wasn't sure I would wear patent shoes often enough since I love my patent bags and didn't want to go overboard.

Monday was my first day at work, and I wanted shoes that looked dressy but wouldn't be a huge loss if a Great Dane decided to pee on my foot. Meaning, not any of the beloved Choos or Loubies. So I grabbed a pair of dark grey patent pumps I had purchased at Target and ran off to work.

Nine hours later, I did not have aching feet. I went to the gym and took off my Target shoes; I did not rip them off my feet and throw them at the wall (like I was tempted to do with a certain $325 pair of Theory platforms on Christmas eve. Four hours at a family function and I thought I was ready to cut off my feet. Humph.) My unusually wide toe box was not squished, and my high arches did not ache.

So, my "special" shoes are reserved for shorter periods of wear, when there is less danger of puppy pee and constant running back and forth. For work, I will stick with Target cheapies. You can't beat $29.99 for a pair of shoes that don't look cheap with your nice pants. Thanks again, Target.

Now, if only the Thakoon for Target line weren't so disappointing...

I'LL STOP, I SWEAR

2009-01-20T21:43:00.000-08:00

I am just a little post whore today, aren't I?

I feel like telling a random story that makes me laugh all the time.

The first thing I thought when I saw my husband was "Oh my God that adorable guy is smiling at me!! I bet he is very young and very taken." The second thing I thought was that he reminded me of Clay Aiken when he was on American Idol...with the glasses and the spiky hair...when I had a crush on him (shut up!).

See, we met at work. He had been working there for a while, and was behind the front desk when I came down the stairs. He looked up at me and gave me the biggest smile EVER, and right then I developed a huge crush on him. I think every single person besides him knew about that crush the entire time I worked there. That's how those things work.

So yeah. I always tease him about "looking like Clay Aiken." Which he really doesn't...I mean, there are some scary pictures of Clay Aiken out there, which look NOTHING like Ben. Still, that's what I thought of when I first saw him, and it has stuck in my head.

Back in October, when I went to Omaha, there was a picture of Clay Aiken and his baby on the cover of some magazine. To be funny, I bought it. The picture scarily reminded me of Ben.

I mean, it just...looks like him in some way. As in, if Clay Aiken robbed a gas station and they put out a police artist sketch, someone would see Ben and call the cops. Not identical, but damn close.

I kept the magazine. I couldn't help it. Long after everything else got thrown in the recycling bin, I kept Aiken's face. Finally, I handed it to Ben to put on the pile. I went into the other room to do some cleaning, and a few minutes later he came in with the cover torn off and said, "I don't know why I am doing this, but I saved the cover for you since you like it so much." He constantly denies any kind of resemblance, but I tease him anyway.
It ended up in a box of stuff on the bedroom floor (lately the bedroom has become a junk storage room, and even though I try to limit myself to one "random junk" box, I always have several).
Again I was in there cleaning, and Ben walked in. He did some kind of double-take jump back thing, and kind of laughed. And then he said:
"I can't believe I am telling you this but when I walked in, I looked down and thought 'why is there a picture of me with a baby in that box?'"
I nearly died laughing.
So yeah, I used to think Clay Aiken was cute. So what? And yeah, I do think that he and Ben have some physical similarities. And yeah, Ben will give me a lot of shit for posting this.

And here are some silly photos of Ben.
Hey, at least I don't say he looks like Harry Potter, which is what my mom and a couple of my aunts say...

So...whoever he looks like, he is 100% my Benji and I love him immensely.
If you are reading this...I LOVE YOU, BENJI!!!!

WHERE IS MY MATERNAL INSTINCT???

2009-01-20T21:12:00.000-08:00

I want these.

Actually, I would love to have a house full of puppies at all times, but I can't, for so many reasons. Wow, this is just...heartbreaking.

MY SPENDING FAIL IS A WIN

2009-01-20T16:52:00.001-08:00

**This might not be especially stimulating at first, but the end is worth it, I promise!!!**

I found myself at Whole Foods a couple of hours ago.
That isn't unusual; we used to go there almost every single day. I get food there, sure, but also shaving cream, toothpaste, etc.
Lately, though, I have been working out a food budget. You all know the story about my husband; he can and will eat anything, so he is happy that I am no longer forcing organic whole wheat pasta and all-natural soda into his adorable face.
"Working out" a food budget means trying to see how much we spend on what we need (in my world, wheatgrass to make juice is a need, but I can do without expensive dried berries and raw nuts...the things make me sick anyway...anyway, it's all relative) each week and figuring from there. I way overshot my gas budget, I guess preparing for the worst in terms of $5 per gallon gas. Really, though, when I get into my routine of yoga, work, gym, I will drive a total of something stupid like 400 miles a month if I don't go a bunch of extra places (where will I go? Shopping??!? Um, no...) and don't waste gas. So I guess we have a little wiggle room for food.
Most people balk at the amount of money we spend on groceries. However, most people don't seem to account for the soda they buy on their way to work, the lunches out, the delivery for dinner, the free things they eat at work or wherever (I don't eat fast food, can't eat food even if it is offered at work unless for some odd reason they have something I can actually eat, and I don't eat at restaurants except the occasional sushi, and that is usually when someone wants to take us out for a birthday or whatever.) So yeah. For a while, we didn't make a food budget, because we didn't need one. We just bought what we wanted, and that was that.
Now, we do need one.
So I set us up for a whopping $360 a month.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA YEAHHHHHHH RIGHT!

Never in a million years. It takes me $400 just to feed my little self with things that don't make me sick or cause some reaction. So I am trying to keep us at $500 a month. Ben gets free food at work. We like Ben getting free food. Free food is good. (And if you want to tell me about my "ridiculous" food budget, add every last Starbucks, fast food, restaurant, and bar receipt to your grocery receipts for a week. If it is really under $125 a week, you are lucky, and I can imagine you don't have any dietary restrictions at all.)

Most people, if you have read this blog at all, know that I try to stick to a raw foods diet. This is mainly because I can't eat anything from a package, because I can't eat soy, wheat, colorings, MSG, many spices, and a whole bunch of other things. (Well, I can, if I want to become ill enough to miss 2-3 days of work and working out, and/or see the doctor.) However, it is very expensive to eat raw (I won't even start to think of how much!) and that is a problem. So, I am making do with a diet that is about 60% raw and eating lentils, plain potatoes, and/or rice for dinner. (These are the only two things that don't disagree with me right now. I have tried oatmeal, oat bran, brown rice pasta, quinoa, teff, handmade granola, soy and wheat free vegan burgers, wheat free bread, etc, etc, etc...and my body liked NONE of them. The burgers were good, but all the onions and garlic and stuff made me sick. Damn.)
Some day I would LOVE to replace my cooked food choices with inexpensive raw foods (so many people eat 100% raw for pretty much free--if you live in the right area, you can basically forage and have all the fresh fruit you want. This makes me want to give up my mountain dream and move to Bali.) Bananas, apples, a whole pineapple for dinner, a bag of grapefruit. I have done this before, with a lot of success, but one, I do eat totally organic now (to me the organic part is more important than 100% raw right now, so if the choice is organic rice or conventional apples, you bet I'm going to eat the rice) and two, my TMJ and teeth are so bad that I cannot chew most things. Yeah. That's the bigger reason why I eat smoothies, mashed up Organic Food Bars, and baked potatoes and lentils. I can't chew a damn apple. I can try, and end up swallowing huge chunks of food that my body cannot handle. All the teeth on the left side of my mouth don't meet, and therefore cannot grind...every tooth is either broken or chipped...and I had a big one extracted last May, so I have a big hole. Thanks to TMJ. God, I sound like your 95-year-old grandmother, don't I?

So yeah, there is my stupid, pathetic food story. Let's hope I can make our new budget work. (Ben gets excited to think of a future filled with dinners consisting entirely of instant mashed potatoes and cheap macaroni and cheese. No, really, he has eaten that for dinner every single night for the past month. Even when I have offered to make mashed potatoes from scratch, or bake a fish filet I found in the back of the freezer. Nope. I call it "ghetto pie" and he loves it. I must say, though, that it is a step up from his obsession in 2007--when we first started dating, it was instant mashed potatoes squashed together with a cheap chicken pot pie. I kid you not.)

Unfortunately, I was unable to resist the siren song of Yoga Journal at the Whole Foods checkout. It has been a relatively long time since I have purchased a magazine. I used to buy about 20 a month (no, really) so this is a huge improvement. I saw it and had to have it. First of all, I will be returning to Bikram yoga at the start of February (and I am not ashamed to say it: my momma is paying for it for a while, to help us out...she knows how much it has helped me) and I want to get back in to doing yoga every day. I liked myself a lot better when I did.
Second of all, I saw the Lululemon ad on the back cover before I even saw the front cover, and just this one ad makes it $4.99 well spent:

That's just...the greatest thing ever. It actually made me get teary-eyed.
Just...wow. I love it!!!

LAUNDRY MONSTER!!!

2009-01-20T14:20:00.001-08:00

See what happens when you let your laundry pile up for weeks?

Wait. If it grows a cute puppy, I am never washing anything again!!!

I SHOULDN'T BE SO AMUSED BY THIS...

2009-01-20T12:47:00.000-08:00

but it's really funny:

In all seriousness, today is a huge day.

And hundreds of years from now, kids will have interesting American History textbooks, unlike the 1776 marathons of my high school days.

I'M BROKE, AND I HAVE A WISH LIST

2009-01-18T09:49:00.000-08:00

Wish List:
1. A new French press
2. a cheap hairstylist (well. not cheap, as in "dresses for work as if she is the star of the Moulin Rouge and goes home with scary men who have scary facial hair," but cheap as in, "does not cost $100 every 4 weeks just to make me look not-Goth and not-creepy)
3. someone to fix my stupid camera

Disaster. Pure disaster. On the day before I start my new job, I break my freaking French press, making it impossible for me to make my beloved organic espresso. Since I swore off stevia-sweetened energy drinks (natural, but VERY EXPENSIVE) and Starbucks (er...coffee not organic, water not distilled but municipal water, various unfounded rumors about business practices, 3-day stint as barista FAILED) one thing is certain: I NEED MY FRENCH PRESS!!

Okay, maybe I will hit a coffee shop occasionally, or grab a nice frosty GURU energy drink. But for my daily caffeine fix, I need that French press.

Seriously. I have a nice fancy Thermos (shut up, it is very pink and chic...maybe impossible to drink out of, but pink and chic. Or I could just go steal a bunch of paper cups from the coffeehouse down the street. I have experimented. You can use one about 8 times before it starts to fall apart. Coffee from a paper cup just tastes better. And you can recycle it, too!) and some nice organic espresso, but no more French press.

I guess I could haul my butt to Target to find one. Because even though I'm broke, I know myself, and all week at work, I'll be right down the street from a few coffee places, and $3 x 4 days is $12, which is all the stupid little thing would cost...plus, I would be drinking the BAD COFFEE.
Ugh. Just UGH.

And hair disaster. As much as I would LOVE to darken my hair and just be done with it, I can't. Why? Because I look scary with dark hair. Seriously scary. Just dead. Or not there. Or like I have laser eyes. I want to go back to being Kate-Hudson-totally-blonde. (Er. I guess I think our coloring is similar. And I like her shade of blonde. When mine was that color, I looked best. At least I thought so. Yeah.) Which I can actually do myself for the bargain price of about $18, or less than $5 a week, which would work, especially when I get a French press, because really even just 2 coffees a week would cost more than $5 a week! However. Right now I still have a lot of residual dark brown-ness from my last stint of "let's see if dark hair looks good now even though it hasn't the last 4587 times I have tried it!" And I might be good, but I am not good enough to ensure an even blonding with minimum drama, when my hair has about 4 shades of brown and 3 of red and some blonde streaks in there somewhere. And when it is this long. AND NO I AM NOT CUTTING IT!!! Someone bleach me. Please. I feel like I look about 50.

And camera disaster. I don't know why it doesn't work. It just quit. I guess I could dig out the mini video camera that I bought when I told my dad that I NEEDED it because I had 2 puppies. I guess he figured that was as close to grandkids as he would get and forked over the money (not a lot...I ordered it "refurbished" but when it came all it was, was one that had been returned to the store. Nobody had even opened it. Hooray for me!!) Anyway. I think it takes still shots. But I need to take pictures of my growing babies, and I need to take pictures of my work outfits. Not yet. But when I get a free-standing mirror that doesn't stretch my body into ridiculous proportions. But someday.

Hmm. I hate Wal Mart but someone gave me a gift card and I think I can get a free-standing mirror there. Hmm. Wal Mart? Ugly fat mirror? Which is the worse evil? Wal Mart is bad, but I can drive to the one that is slightly less shitty. A fat mirror is probably the worst evil of all. Worse than Wal Mart.

And that's bad.

NIGHT TWO OF MY PATHETIC WEEKEND

2009-01-17T17:48:00.001-08:00

Ben worked 2nd shift again, for the second night in a row.

A little bit of background:
I lived alone for the best part of 10 years (one roommate for 4.5 months, a few short-term semi-serious boyfriends here and there, but that's it) before my husband moved in with me a few months before we got married. I liked living alone. I could listen to whatever I wanted to, have silence when I wanted it, leave my purse hanging on the door with nobody to complain about it, take bubble baths every night, walk around in nothing but a thong and an Organic Living baseball cap, and decorate with elements that would be best described as fluffy, filmy, pink, etc (I never really did that. I stuck with basic decor. I did wear the outfit mentioned, once. With Uggs. But I digress.)
For a short while, I even thought that I missed living alone. Waking up at 4a.m. and going to bed by 9p.m. with nobody to mess up my schedule. Organizing all my fruit and caffeinated beverages without having to share refrigerator space. Listening to The Streets and trying to rap in a British accent. Whatever.
And now. I have two puppies and I am still feeling lonely.
I had every intention to come home and make dinner and watch Breakfast at Tiffany's.

I guess I will go ahead and admit that I am making lentils and watching John Tucker Must Die.

BLOG NAME ADD, CLEANING TIME, JOB STUFF, AND MORE

2009-01-16T21:36:00.000-08:00

Yeah, it says "THE SQUEAK" now, for several reasons...mainly, "THE SCOOP" referred to a Pilates term and that little era of my life is (thankfully) over, and because I'm "squeaking" by (hahahahaha, get it?) and a few other reasons not really worth mentioning, but come on, my blog names always suck and I constantly have to change them. So, yeah.

I am in the middle of cleaning the entire apartment, since I have decided we are most likely going to be staying here anyway. I refuse to start a new job with a messy home where I am unable to find my shoes, my bra, my whatever-I-need when I need it. It has gotten out of hand. I keep selling crap and I still own too much stuff, and at this point I feel like I am cleaning one room by shoving shit into another and then going into the second room and cleaning it by shoving the shit into a third. Oh, crap.

Now...job updates. Ben finished his system training for his new job the other day and started actually working at a different location (his is not open yet) tonight. He just got home and I had to laugh at what he was wearing on his jacket:

(Yeah. Really good job I did blurring the name of his company there.)

I laughed at him for the whole "team member in training!" blue ribbon. Oh, man. But you know, he is proud of it, and I do understand. But it's still funny.

I know, it's mean to laugh, but I think I am still in shock that after too many years of college, too many majors, and too many shitty jobs, I finally got one that I wanted. One where I don't have to wear a name tag or a bright yellow standard-issue men's size large polo with bright embroidery that MUST BE TUCKED IN AT ALL TIMES even though it is 3 feet too long and there is nowhere to put all that fabric. One where the staff is small and I am actually recognized and given real responsibility, beyond making sure that the chips are stacked evenly.

So. More details. Still no names, because I want to start before I start writing about it!
Forgive me if I repeat anything...
I will be working at an upscale pet boutique and wellness center. They have a pet spa and carry Juicy Couture pet clothing and accessories among about a million other things (okay, I exaggerate) but I am so excited...I think we are the only place in this city that carries the JC pet stuff! I am starting part-time but will basically be retail manager in three months if all works out (meaning if I like it and the owner likes me...but I doubt I could dislike it, and she did talk to me long enough for my meter to run out, and she DID hire me, so...). I will probably be writing the newsletter and starting a blog...and of course...I will be working with pets (mostly dogs!) all the time. So yeah. I might be a little excited. If I had to pick one thing I kick ass at, it is retail management, as long as it is boutique-type and not big box (no thanks to wal-mart, target, or walgreens type places). I can't lie. I think I was a pretty sucky Pilates teacher. But who cares? WORKING WITH DOGS!!! HAPPY DOGS WHO ARE SHOPPING!!!!

WHEE!!!!

And now that it is past midnight and my husband is home, I am going to go hang out with him for a while before crashing. Tomorrow is more cleaning and working out, Sunday more of the same, and I start work Monday...I'm scared. My last real job (not Pilates or copy editing done at home) ended in August 2006 when I went back to school. It was Trader Joe's. I hated it. Just working again is exciting but scary. We'll see how it all goes.

Aaaaaand I wanted to take photos of my work outfits, but my stupid camera is broken:(
WHY WHY WHY WHY?????? Totally unfair.

A POST ABOUT...SHOPPING. OR MAYBE A RANT.

2009-01-16T21:05:00.001-08:00

First off, let me say that I am very, very glad that this huge no-shopping era of my life began when spring collections started appearing. If it would have been fall or winter, I would have been sad enough to drink myself into a stupor each and every night, and I really don't ever drink. So, so severely sad.
Obviously, I love fall and winter fashion. Give me black and grey, boots and chunky platform heels, pants pants pants, SWEATERS, scarves, knit hats, COATS, and MORE DARK COLORS. I have been pissed off so far this year that we have had the odd wintry day thrown in among 50 and 60 degree days. THAT IS SUCK WEATHER. I WANT SNOW, I WANT COLD DAYS, I WANT TO WEAR COATS DAMMIT!!!
I think I am the only person (besides my husband, who could give a shit less about fashion but hates hot weather, "hot" meaning 60 degrees and above) who feels this way.

WHY? Why is everyone talking about "the perfect spring wedge" and bright colors and icky cap-sleeve tees and ... blech... SHORTS???!!?!?!?

(Really, if someone took me into Color Me Beautiful, I would growl at the woman if she told me I were a spring or a summer. NO WAY. There is no way. I don't care what my skin and eyes say, I don't like very many brights or pastels.)

Well. Maybe the colors aren't SO bad. But I think that it is really, really difficult to look very stylish when it is 80 degrees outside. Maybe this is why I resort to looking like a Survivor contestant all summer long. I don't know. I just feel so uncomfortable. I hate the heat. I hate the icky baggy sleeveless tops and icky shorts. Ugh. Shorts. The word makes me cringe, unless the words running or yoga are involved.

At least it is easier not to shop when everything out there repulses me. Sure, other people can pull off warm-weather looks, but I prefer to keep it that way. On other people. I try to deny the existence of summer weather as long as possible.

Completely out-there rant, but I keep getting catalogs for spring things and I am hoping I still have a good 3 months of winter left. At least. I really need to be back in the mountains, like yesterday.

*sigh*

WE'RE RICH!!!

2009-01-16T16:26:00.000-08:00

No, we didn't find jobs at Google or win the Powerball (although Ben is tempted to buy a ticket...ever since I saw this headline I thought "anything could happen" and told Ben to go right ahead). I'm not talking about money at all, but since the economy sucks and everyone is changing the way they spend, I had to make a little play on words.

I was in Borders earlier (don't worry, I wasn't spending, but I did have to replace my date book, especially since I am actually working now) and the line was, oddly, wrapped around the front of the store. Directly in front of me was a well-dressed couple. I know looks can be deceiving and I hate to make assumptions, but for the sake of my story, I will assume that the man in designer suit and coat and a pinky ring easily 5 times the size of my engagement ring and his coiffed, made-up companion (wife? they both had wedding bands) were still pretty wealthy. (I know, they could have just lost their jobs and found out that their big investment turned out to be a scam, and wearing their best clothes and jewelry helps ease the pain, but again, for the sake of my story...)
Anyway.
As you approach the cash registers, there are shelves and racks of...junk. One of the racks was a full 360 revolving rack of greeting cards for Valentine's day. I am not the biggest fan of cards (so if you never get a holiday card from me, it isn't because I don't like you, it is because I see cards as generic and cheesy and frankly I am too un-creative to make my own even though I wish I could) and I am not a fan of Valentine's day, but I was shocked to hear this exchange:

WIFE grabs a card, reads it, and puts it on top of her pile of books.
HUSBAND: (in a rude tone) what the hell is that?
WIFE: It's for *****.
(I assume ***** is her sister because the card says "for my sister!"
HUSBAND: NO! She will just put it in a drawer. It's probably like ten bucks!
WIFE: It's FOR *****. She will like it. (she looks at the back of the card, feigns putting it away, and then changes her mind, placing it back on top of her pile).
HUSBAND: WHAT ARE YOU DOING? (VERY RUDELY). DAMN IT!!
WIFE: (turns over card again.) Oh, 6.99. I guess that is a lot. (puts card back in slot on rack).
HUSBAND: sighs rudely I'm going outside for a cigarette. HURRY UP!

(as if she can make the line go faster)

And at that moment, I realized that I am so very, very wealthy.
Not because my husband can buy me tons of gifts or take me out to fancy places, but because he does things like this:

(The sticker on my car says I *heart* Ben. He wrote in the dirt one morning as he left for work: I *HEART* YOU TOO COCO! ...a nickname. I found it the next day and it made me cry).

And because we are a happy little family:

And because I know that if that had been us at Borders, my husband would have said "Let's make a card; I am so broke this week!" and he has NEVER EVER used a rude tone even close to the one the man in line used with his wife. Not to me...not to anyone else that I have seen. (And we used to work at a hotel together. And used to deal with the same really rude customers. So yeah.)
Seriously...I don't care that the guy said "no" to his wife, but I would NEVER let someone talk to me like that. I guess you had to be there to hear him. Because, UGH! If this were in the past when I did have extra money I would have been tempted to slip her a $10 and said "He never has to know. Buy it." He was just so damn full of himself and had such a sense of entitlement.

Sorry, I will shut up now. But I really do feel really, really lucky.

Even though right now I am sad because Ben's new job has him working nights and it has been a very long time since I have been home alone at night. I know, I am a total baby.

GORGEOUS GABBY

2009-01-14T06:43:00.001-08:00

This is Gabby. She used to be my Chihuahua. My first Chihuahua. She and my stepdad fell in love with each other when my parents were puppy-sitting (it really is a cute story, but a long one) and now she lives with them. She has also gained about 8 pounds since moving in with them...yikes! (she was 4 pounds before. So 8 is a LOT.)
I bought this little sweater on ebay in an XXS when we very first got Piper. Somehow the people sent me a S instead, and since it was something ridiculous like 4.99, I just gave it to my mom for Gabby. She finally put it on Gabby last night and sent me this ridiculously adorable picture.
Gabby is getting old. I know Chis can live 15-18+ years, but she will be 10 next month and it makes me sad to think of the day that my mom comes home and Gabby is forever asleep. She doesn't like to admit it but that dog is her baby now. And her husband's baby. It's heartbreakingly cute.
I miss her. She still knows who I am and gives me kisses when I come over. I tell her all about how I brought her home and she screamed all night long and she was only as big as my dad's bag of Steak'n'Shake oyster crackers. How she used to sleep next to me, under me, on top of me, when I was lonely out in Shitfield (oops, I mean Springfield). How I ran her to the doggy ER several times because she stuck her tongue in an electrical outlet (advice: use all baby precautions with a dog...even an adult dog) or because she found her way into a box of baking chocolate (super jumping Chihuahua that can also open cabinets with her paw). How I would come home to a living room full of trash after she broke out of the toddler gate and found the trash can.
I miss her. I would steal her back if she liked other dogs (she does not) and I need to start seeing her more often because I have no idea how long she will be around. She is so happy...she still plays, runs (or tries to, the little fatty!), and gets excited to see me. However, I feel like a dog will do all these things even when in pain and I hate that. It makes me so sad. So I hope Gabby's little legs and heart can carry her through many more years, because even though I know a dog's life is shorter than mine, I don't want to have to think about it yet.

CHEAP TIP OF THE DAY

2009-01-13T20:33:00.001-08:00

Okay, I might not have one every day, but I will try to post "Cheap Tips" often.

Let's talk about shampoo. Many people don't give it a second thought--they just toss Suave or whatever into the cart along with the groceries.

I tend to be a shampoo snob. For one thing, my hair really does respond differently to different products. I do color my hair, and keeping it nice is important. Most importantly, though, I am sensitive to EVERYTHING and I like to keep my household paraben-free (er, thyroid issues, long boring explanation, don't ask...but for the record, it's ME, NOT MY HUSBAND who is so picky about these things...oh, anyway...). Finding a shampoo without parabens, soy derivatives, or fragrances I am allergic to (which are not very specific...it is all trial and error for me) is near impossible, considering that it also has to work on my hair and not smell like ass (I hate shampoo that smells like the hairspray I used in the 90's).

Wow, that is a difficult list to fulfill when being cheap. Right? NO! Actually, I will continue to buy my favorite brand and not try to find a cheap replacement. How the hell is that a cheap tip, you ask?
Use half as much as usual, and dilute it. Really. A full handful is excessive and can even dry out hair, even if it says it is "moisturizing." I have been experimenting with just how little I can use, and I have found that I was using more than twice as much as I needed. Yikes. Now it doesn't seem so expensive anymore (especially considering that my husband uses so much crap to spike his hair up that he goes through shampoo like it is water, even though he uses the semi-cheap stuff...it adds up.)

And I still swear that organic virgin coconut oil mixed with one organic egg is the best deep conditioner, and far cheaper. But maybe that's just me.

Enough rambling, I guess this was supposed to be short (a tip, not an essay). Er...tip giving FAIL!!!

ALL ABOUT JOBS

2009-01-13T20:17:00.000-08:00

I have never really gotten a job I really wanted before. Sure, I have interviewed for a ton of great positions with companies I would love to work for, but I was never offered the ones that I really thought I would love. One time I got a job that I ended up loving, but I walked in there because I needed a job, not because I really wanted to work at that particular place.

Today, that changed. I received a call back from the one place that I really wanted a call from. I can't go into detail yet because I would like to get started before I start writing about my job, but I am beyond excited. Let's just say that I will get to work towards retail management (my work of choice if I really think about it--no desk, no office), it's upscale retail, and I get to work with dogs. Oh, and I am pretty positive that writing and blogging will be a part of my job description as well. Wow. Just wow. In today's market. I had a good feeling, though, and for once I was right!

I like to think of it as good karma...after years of working crap jobs and getting passed up for things I deserved and would excel at...I am now, at nearly 30 years old, finally getting a job that I not only need, but want.

AND IT'S GOODBYE FOR NOW...

2009-01-02T10:07:00.000-08:00

I hate to say it, but I probably won't be around for a while.
There are a lot of things going on right now in my life, and while I love a good vent, I think it is beyond un-glamourous to be a drama queen about drama that involves people other than myself.
I love you all and hope to "see" you very soon!

(Watch me not be able to resist.)

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

2008-12-28T10:12:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-22T12:22:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-17T13:03:00.000-08:00

Two words: Joshua Jay

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

ONE YEAR

2008-12-15T21:04:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-14T21:10:00.000-08:00

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???

2008-12-14T20:43:00.000-08:00

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???

2008-12-13T14:11:00.000-08:00

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"

2008-12-12T11:07:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-11T07:42:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-10T11:58:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-09T09:10:00.001-08:00

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

2008-12-07T20:16:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-06T21:35:00.001-08:00

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

2008-12-01T17:43:00.001-08:00

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!

2008-12-01T17:08:00.000-08:00

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!

WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO THIS POST???

2008-11-29T22:25:00.000-08:00

Okay, I guess I just made an ass of myself. Serves me right for trying to blog when half asleep and sick.

Oh, I feel crappy. I'll be back soon:)

EBAY ADDICT

2008-11-28T09:59:00.000-08:00

I am a total eBay addict. I can usually find great stuff that is sold out or rare, and I kick ass at winning auctions. But when I found these I had to post them. I am sure that at least one of my readers will freak out (unless I am way behind the times and am the last to see them.)
It sounds kinda gross to me, but hey, always here to help.

Now hurry...there are only 2 left!! Hee hee.

And now the real, live shopping begins...

THANKFUL

2008-11-26T21:26:00.001-08:00

There are so many things that I am thankful for. I will list only a few of them here (just so you don't have to read 4 pages!)

1. The family that Ben and I have made this year. We are so happy!

2. For the family members that I inherited when I married Ben:)

3. That I had such a wonderful, beautiful, glamorous Grandma for almost 29 years (Grandma died in February. We all miss her very much.)

4. That even though my health has been kind of iffy lately, we are working towards feeling better all the time.

5. For the opportunities that I have gotten, and taken.

6. For my family member and friend, who takes time to listen anytime.

7. That I have been very fortunate in general.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!!

AND NOW...

2008-11-26T09:31:00.000-08:00

I can officially list my profession as "Pilates instructor."

Yes, that's right. I have a job.

Ha ha, it is only one hour a week, but still...I have a class that is all my own beginning December 8!!

A SACK?

2008-11-25T17:09:00.000-08:00

Okay, I am so very disappointed and confused.

I know that delia*s is technically a juniors catalog, but sometimes they have really cute pieces (and cheap!)
Right now, I am above my "desired weight." WAY above. So you would think that if I ordered a dress in a juniors size XS, it would fit. Maybe even possibly be too small.

A couple of weeks ago, I convinced my husband that I needed this:

It arrived on Friday. I immediately tried it on.
Oh, boo hoo. It looked like a muumuu. A maternity dress. A sack.
NOTHING like it does on the model.

I would know, though. That stuff on catalog models is pinned to within an inch of its life. (This also explains the peacoat phenomenon, Chloe.) The model gets it on, and then it gets pinned to perfectly conform to the model's body. The models aren't perfect. The clothes aren't perfect. Someone makes the clothes perfect for the model's body. Simple as that.

But still...how disappointing.

READ, READ, READ

2008-11-24T15:32:00.000-08:00

If you like to read, click on the link to my other blog (piecesofnote) down there at the right.
I have revived it, and will be going in a slightly different direction.
It is mostly fiction and embellished fact; I'm hoping to write an entire novel and need some "practice" finding my fiction voice again.

Oh, and, I wish I were more synesthetic.
Yeah.

INTERESTING

2008-11-24T14:32:00.001-08:00

Apparently, we live in the fourth most dangerous city in America:

"CQ Press has published its rankings for 2008. The most dangerous cities are New Orleans, followed by Camden, N.J., Detroit (last year's No. 1), St. Louis, Oakland, Flint, Mich., Gary, Ind., Birmingham, Ala., Richmond, Calif., and North Charleston, S.C."

Interesting. I feel annoyed (car break-ins) and frustrated, but not unsafe. I walk alone at night a lot, and sure, every once in a while my ears prick up, but generally, I feel safe enough to wander outside after midnight with headphones on and nothing but my keys and my running shoes.

Likely it's because the city is so different from area to area. I mean, certain areas may be dangerous, but I find that the areas I have inhabited are pretty safe. And I have lived in several parts of the city. Annoying neighbors who beat each other up? Sure, in some places. Drugs? Oh, yeah. But fear of rape and murder? Not where I have lived.

This all has a point.
Ever since I came back here in 2000 (1? I have a hard time remembering it all now...) I have wanted to leave again. I hate to bad-talk this place, but I dislike it intensely. I don't "fit in". Not in a "I'm such a loser outsider" way, but in an "I'm not into baseball and I hate summer and by interests are better served elsewhere" way.

I left Colorado years ago because I had to. Or so I thought. I was in a relationship that had gone south quickly, I had a great job but lived in an area where waiting lists for apartments were years long, and I was 20 years old. I was scared.

So I came back here, tried to go back to school, and basically, my life went to hell.

But that isn't the point here.

I have been back to Colorado five times since I moved back here. Each time, I feel a little sadder when I leave. As I drive up 70 towards Summit County, it's like I am home. I can finally breathe, and I realize I have been holding my breath all along.

And I am scared that I will never get out of here.

So my idea for the coming year is simple: I need to change my lifestyle just a bit so that I pay off every debt I have. I have to make something of myself, whether it is teaching a lot of Pilates or finally just writing that novel or bartending...I don't care, I have to do something. Because I want to move. No, I NEED to move.

Crime stats or not, I think that everyone has a place that feels like home. A lot of times, this isn't where we actually live. That makes me sad. I believe fully in "the power of place" and feel like where we live affects our health, our children's/pets' health, our happiness, and our ability to achieve things.

I know it will be difficult, but I need to try harder to make this happen. I know that all four of us (!) will be so much happier somewhere else.
I resolve to pay off all my debt before July 2010.
That starts in January 2009.
In the meantime, it's time for a big spending binge!

I know, I know. I'm so predictable.

I CAN'T STOP WITH THE PUPPY PICTURES

2008-11-23T21:39:00.001-08:00

Sorry, I took these with my phone and emailed them to myself, so they aren't the best quality.

life is hard. so hard.

hugs for my sister

we love napping in the sun

Piper is Ben's baby. She sleeps curled up on me at night, but whines and sits by the door when Ben leaves and greets him ever so slightly more enthusiastically when he comes home. She loves me, but is more attached to Ben.
The day before we picked up Satchel, I read that female chihuahuas bonded more to their male caretaker. I cried and cried that both would be his babies and I would be their second love. I cried that I wanted a boy, a lap baby, and Ben was like, *sigh* "find a boy." (!!!)
However...Satchel will not let me go. She holds on to me with her little paws and follows me into every room. She has a pathetic howl when I leave (Ben recorded it) and prefers sitting on me to anything else.
She was terrified at first, and had to fight off Piper's "rough play advances." She seemed sad, and I was so worried about her (I will be until I take her to a second vet. Long story.) I gave her some fresh coconut water and about 20 minutes later we had a brand new dog. She wagged her tail, ran around the kitchen, played tug of war with Piper and a toy (Ben took video) and gave lots of kisses.
They are almost overwhelming...making messes, getting into things, crying for attention...but we love them SO much. They are so much love packed into tiny bodies.

I'm going to go cry now ;)

ADORABLE

2008-11-23T18:08:00.001-08:00

...but I am already doing my worrying thing about her:(

What is wrong with me? I am terrified of being a bad mom!

SO MUCH LOVE

2008-11-22T21:11:00.000-08:00

Ben and I are surrounded by so much love...so much love in tiny, 2-pound packages!

They already love each other:

YES, IT LOOKS DIFFERENT

2008-11-19T21:16:00.000-08:00

And I will probably change it again.
For some reason, I feel so un-creative when it comes time to name a blog.
I don't know why I get so stressed about such things.

THE CHAMPAGNE OF GAS

2008-11-19T16:40:00.001-08:00

I love my car.
It is the car I wanted before I was even old enough to drive. It is unique, cute, and fun to drive. It is rare, interesting, and safe. It is also a snob (or I should say, a Snaab. Actually, I wanted to get vanity plates that said SNAAB but my husband didn't really understand, so I didn't. Damn it, now I want to do it anyway.)
My car and its turbo engine want premium gas.
I realize this isn't exactly eco-friendly, and it certainly isn't budget friendly, but I don't really drive that much anyway. And it is a small sacrifice to make to be able to drive a classic 900. (I know it's old, that is the point. They don't make 'em like they used to!) I love my car and want it to last a LONG LONG LONG time. I am actually trying to convince Ben that he needs to buy one when he finally replaces the Batmobile (a beat up old Honda Accord; I have no idea why he is still driving it. NOTHING on the thing works. It was his first car. I just sigh and shake my head.)
Anyway, I know gas prices have been going down, but I was shocked to see that "the champagne of gas" that my car likes was finally under $2.00 per gallon:
I know, it is a silly thing to be excited about, but I haven't seen gas so low in a while. Especially before the holidays.
Fill up!!

AI HAZ A FRIEND NAMED CHLOE TOO

2008-11-19T10:43:00.000-08:00

I have to apologize in advance to a couple of my readers:)

Last Friday, I took Piper to PetSmart because she had had a hard day, and I wanted her to be around people who would "ooh" and "ahh" and pet her. (It worked. I was in there for about 90 minutes, and everyone loved her.)
I bought her some toys, and a t-shirt. And then I went back to an endcap that had Beverly Hills Chihuahua merchandise on sale. There was a stuffed dog (it's supposed to be a chihuahua) that was as big as Piper, so I picked it up, kind of as a joke.
When I got home, I looked closer. Her name (Chloe) is embroidered on her velvety pink dress/top thing.
So I went over to the computer and looked up "Beverly Hills Chihuahua." Sure enough, the little chihuahua girl's name is Chloe. (I'm not sure why so many people name their dog Chloe. My aunt's dog, I just found out today, is named Chloe. Just never thought of it, I guess. Then again, when I was in high school, my just-went-away-to-college boyfriend named his dog Shannon. Hmm.)
Anyway...Piper LOVES her little friend. However, she is mean to her sometimes. I really hope this is not indicative of her attitude towards her new sister who will be coming home Saturday.
If she does that to Satchel (name might change?) I will freak out. Hopefully, she realizes the difference between the two.

In other news, I was sad to discover last night that Sarah Palin has a daughter named Piper.
Since we got her right after the election, I am sure people are thinking we named her Piper for that reason. I swear, I had no idea the little girl even existed until I was flipping through a Newsweek yesterday. We got the name from a 6-year old chihuahua that I had my eye on...but she was adopted out before my husband decided "yes" to a dog. So we stole her name.

WHAT TO WEAR WITH...

2008-11-19T08:18:00.000-08:00

grey shoes?

I have a few pair. I don't know what it is with me and grey shoes, but I love them!! I guess since the closet is full of black, I have moved on to the grey.

Here is my latest addition:

I would not normally wear a snakeskin-type shoe, but I couldn't resist.
I know a lot of fashionistas talk trash about chunky heels (and wedges! why? I LOVE WEDGES!) but I think that they look great if worn correctly.
Now I just need to figure out what in the world to wear them with...and that means more cleaning.

Also:
extra 15% off sweaters today at bluefly.com

Lots of deals on cashmere!

AND FINALLY...A FASHION POST

2008-11-18T20:14:00.000-08:00

So...today I finally got in on the good stuff going on at gilt.com
They were having an Alice + Olivia sale, so I grabbed this:

(and I do mean "grabbed." I had to wait to see if it was even available, and when the little thing popped up on my email to tell me it was, I pounced.)

About an hour earlier, I decided to spend my bluefly credit balance and got this:

So, I am hoping I have a few dressier holiday things to do this year. I have not one, but two new dresses that I need an excuse to wear.

And finally, my Choos arrived the other day. You know, the ones that were supposed to be pre-order only, and charged/shipped on January 4, 2009. Apparently, store-not-to-be-named decided it was okay to charge me without notification, and then FedEx decided it was okay to just leave the box at my door. Hmm. Whatever. I know I am not supposed to wear them with yoga pants (on second thought, is there a wrong time to wear them?) but here is a photo (crappy, taken with my phone) for all it's worth:

Now I just need to keep up with the pedicures. Believe me, pedicures are not exactly a luxury for me. My feet are terrible, horrible, disgusting. And people see them all day--a lot of times, when demonstrating Pilates, I have to be barefoot. My feet are close to people's faces. Therefore, I have to try to keep my feet nice. The whole "feet-looking-good-in-shoes" thing is a side benefit:)

I just cleaned out my front room closet (again) and found yet another great pile of stuff to sell on ebay. I have a few more kate spade dot noel bags that I could stand to get rid of...the last one I sold brought in almost twice what I paid a few years ago. (Anything that isn't made anymore is potential ebay gold.)

And that's all for tonight. It's time for me to go formulate my plan for the next few weeks. I am tired of feeling sick and gross all the time.

CUPCAKES AND OTHER DEMONS

2008-11-18T18:06:00.000-08:00

I really don't want this to be a "food blog." Really. In fact, I am trying really hard to leave a lot of that behind me, but there are times when I wonder if everyone who is even slightly like me has the same exact life I do, but doesn't yak yak yak about it all day (like I do).

First of all, I must say that being naturally little is a kind of disadvantage when it comes to overeating. Gain five pounds on a little 5'2" body, it looks like a lot more than it would on a 5'6" body. Athletic? Just a slight cover of fat on your muscles, and suddenly it looks like ALL of it is fat.

That said, I have a huge problem lately. I hate the term "emotional eating" especially since I don't feel like I really eat for emotional reasons lately. At least not like I used to. Hard day at work, fight with a guy, not getting along with family...all reasons I used to overeat. Not anymore. That stuff, I get mad, I cry, I bitch to some friends. Now, I have a problem I like to call "stupid eating." Let's see. Go shopping, see self in disgusting light in fitting room, look fat. EAT. Go to yoga, have a hard time, feel like fat is in the way of yoga postures. Go home and EAT. The most recent one is the absolute stupidest. I was at the gym and my ipod battery ran out (happens often as I am lazy about recharging). I grabbed a magazine, and in it was an article about that Biggest Loser show. I really know very little about it, but the article mentioned that the people ate 1200 calories a day and exercised for 6-8 hours a day. Yes, it's unhealthy. But I don't care. It really fired up the competitive vixen in me. It made me feel like a fat failure, because although with Pilates and yoga and cardio, I do get 3+ hours of exercise a day, and the rest of the day is spent running around and cleaning and not sitting a lot...I eat WAY more than 1200 calories. And as stupid and un-sustainable (and ridiculous...um, not supposed to eat less than your RMR, right?) as I know it is, it made me feel like I was just doing it all wrong and needed a "start-over."
Yes. A "start-over."
One little extra handful of grapes over what I like to "allow" myself, and I binge. Why? Because I messed up, and I need a "start-over."
And a "start-over" isn't worth it unless I get what I really "want." (Want is in quotation marks here because of the fact that I really don't WANT to eat all these things that make me sick. Remember, I have so many food intolerances and digestive issues due to Hashi's that overeating is not just overeating...it literally makes me ill because I overeat all the things that I "can't" eat.)
I am totally ruining my health here. I am convinced that somehow the permanent chaos that is our home is causing me to do this. I am so stressed out by mess that I cannot do anything right.

I am off to clean. Um. Wish me luck, I guess...

MEET SATCHEL

2008-11-17T14:00:00.000-08:00

Ok, I was going to wait to say anything, but I can't.

On Saturday, Ben and I will be bringing home another baby.

Before you make fun of her wonky eye, I have to say: I think she is beautiful. Her eye may not work 100% (we aren't sure yet...it might) but she is healthy and needs a loving home.

Wow, TWO babies. At least she and Piper will have each other when we both have to be gone from home:)

More photos Saturday after we pick her up!!

I HATE FAKES!!

2008-11-17T12:29:00.000-08:00

I hate fakes. Fake accessories, fake shoes, fake clothes, fake fake fake. I hate 'em all.

Notice I did not say "I hate cheap shoes, accessories, and clothes." Maybe I'm a little bit of a snob, but I'm not that big a snob. I love finding shoes at Target, purses at DSW, and stuff on sale at Macy's. I bought 2 pair of shoes at Target last week:

And some clothes. I bet that is the last time Ben gives me his credit card for the day and tells me I can go to Target. Oops. Anyway.

Inexpensive stuff is one thing. Fakes are another. I have written about this before (on another blog) but it really frustrates me to no end. Fakes rip off another person's (the designer's) creativity. If someone stole something I wrote, I would be pissed! Fakes are often made in sweatshops, and nobody wants that! Finally, a LOT of people are really unaware that everything from Abercrombie & Fitch (why??? whywhywhy?) to Louis Vuitton to Jimmy Choo is copied. (And now, Sir Mix-a-Lot's "Swap Meet Louie" is in my head. Wow. 8th grade, yeah!)
You can go to tradekey.com and scare the hell out of yourself if you would like. The counterfeit industry (just the part that we know of and keep track of) is over twice as big as Wal-Mart. (Yuk. I hate both.)
Other things being "faked" are Tiffany jewelry, Xbox (how???) and of course, DVDs. Seriously.

Ebay is a great place to get great deals. You know, that $1000 coat you wanted but didn't get, and was sold out in all sizes except XXXL once it went on sale for 70% off. Guaranteed, someone bought it and hated it, or got sick of it, or something...and put it up on ebay. Lots of times, you get lucky. But a lot of times, things on ebay are FAKE. Even those sellers with 100% feedback can be selling fakes. Why? Well, a lot of people don't know how to tell a fake from a real item. A lot of people don't care (for the life of me, I don't know why. Why would you pay $300 for a fake Louis Vuitton logo bag? If you want a logo bag, and you are willing to pay $300, why not go to Nieman's and buy a Coach logo bag?) and are happy because it might fool their friends. And a lot of people are too damn nice (me) to leave negative feedback. They just report it to ebay and leave no feedback. Stupid me.
Look at what the person is selling. If all they have is 100 Chloe Saskia satchels (sorry, but a good example, ebay is bursting with them sometimes) be wary. But if someone is cleaning out their closet, and has a great bag for a good price, it is more likely to be real.
Take your bag to be authenticated, at the boutique, or at Nieman's/Bergdorf's/Saks/Nordstrom.
Many fake sellers will offer a money-back guarantee. So what? If you notice they offer a guarantee but then charge $49.95 for shipping, be wary. Why? Because they may have paid $5 for that fake, and are selling it to you for $499. Plus $50 shipping. If you call them on it and request a refund, you get it all back-minus shipping. They still made a profit, and you are out that money for...nothing.

And finally. SO many inexpensive bags, shoes, etc are so great and fashionable. However, I don't get the whole "make a logo that looks similar to a big name logo but really is just our initials in the same shape." WHY? That screams "EW!" to me. Example: Guess trying to be...is this a cross between Chanel and Coach?

I guess (haha, oh harharhar, I really didn't mean to do that) that I have something against Guess due to my mother's obsession with it in the 80's. I owned like 30 pair of their stupid jeans with the zippers at the ankles and the triangle on the butt pocket.
Oh, and I had the Dorothy Hamill haircut. Ruined short hair for me forever.

I am sure there was a point to this blog, but I am losing it. I am so sick today. I had a dentist appointment this morning, and anything even remotely stressful has been making me sick lately. Stupid immune system.

At least my hair is shedding less:)

MAD

2008-11-17T12:24:00.000-08:00

Seriously, what is wrong with this city?
It is the middle of November, and I have not been able to wear a single coat yet!
(If you haven't noticed, I have a coat obsession.)
Just another reason to hate it here.
Ben and I are moving (1.5-2 years or so from now, depending) and have been trying to decide between my old town in Colorado, or Portland, Oregon. This is another point for Colorado. I want cold. COLD COLD COLD. I hate hot, I hate humidity, I HATE it. Really. I don't much like summer. It makes me want to sit inside in the air conditioning all day. UGH.

In other news, I just made a HUGE score on ebay:

The Nanette Lepore Secret Lover coat!
Sometimes I love eBay. Sometimes I hate it. I hate fakes. But that is another post entirely:)

SIGH

2008-11-15T20:27:00.000-08:00

I am having a bit of a "sick weekend." I think I overdid it yesterday; I had hair, nails, waxing , chiropractor, gym, puppy stuff, cleaning, and grocery shopping. (I know. Like I should complain about a day at salons. Anyway.)
I think I am losing my mind sometimes. I am taking Armour thyroid (natural thyroid hormone taken from, of all things, pigs, which is so NOT vegan or humane but terrifies me a lot less than the synthetics) and it has helped a LOT. I still have bad days. However, I think it would help a lot more if I actually remembered to take it, remembered if I took it, and followed a schedule. I know that some days I completely forget to take it all day, and then have to take the whole dose at night. I know that some days, I wake up, take some, and then think that I haven't, and end up taking too much. I have no idea how I can remember phone numbers of people I haven't spoken to in ten years, which page I am on in a book without using a bookmark, whether or not I fed the fish, etc. but not if I have or have not taken my stupid thyroid.
Anyway. That is probably why I feel so crappy; my blood levels are what the doctor would call "optimal" and a lot of the really bad symptoms are dwindling or gone. But yeah, I need to learn how to dose it correctly.

We have a big (well, a small) surprise coming next weekend! I am also going to try to clean up and organize the closet (which involves photographing anything that goes in a box or bag or is covered by a garment bag) so I will eventually post the promised photos of some pretty stuff. But for now, here are some more Piper photos (I know, this is not supposed to be a blog about chihuahuas, but she's too cute, I can't resist)

I love catalogs, just like mom!!

Pitiful bathtime Piper

I loves me some fluffy organic spa towels!!!

Sleeping in her new purple sequin hooded sweater

She does not want to be woken up.

$&@&#*)!!!

2008-11-12T14:46:00.000-08:00

WARNING: I HAVE A SEVERE CASE OF POTTY MOUTH WHEN UPSET.
KTHANKS.

Okay. This year has sucked, sucked, sucked. I mean, it seems like I barely made it home from my honeymoon last year that all the sickness I had felt off and on moved in permanently, and I suddenly could do about 1/10 of what I used to. Many days, going to check the mail put me flat on my back for the rest of the day.

So, I gained weight. Don't get me wrong...I know I am still well within the "normal" range for my height, and blah blah blah, but I don't have any business being this size. I am small-boned. I have long lean muscles somewhere under...this. My knees and hips ache daily when I try to exercise (no wonder...each pound gained adds 25 pounds of stress on each knee when walking. Try jogging. yeah. right.). I am so unhappy about it that I don't want to do anything...go out, practice Pilates, see old friends...hell, THIS is the sole reason I have not yet returned to Bikram yoga.

Read that again. I have not returned to doing something I loved and did every single day for almost five years because of my weight.

It really is fighting me. I swear, all I ever want anymore is sugar. All those "good" things that people eat to reduce calories? Whole grains, lean protein, etc? Can't digest any of it. Raw vegetables? Only if they are pureed. And thanks, but no thanks. My digestive system has come so far, but may never be able to handle these things. A salad without any cheese, croutons, or dressing...just vegetables...would make me so sick for so long that had I a job, I would have to call in for two days. So, basically, I can eat a lot of stuff that isn't very satisfying (I drink it. Yay. Fucking fun.) and has tons of calories (A 300 calorie smoothie? Great. That's one without much nutrition. Add the greens, the coconut oil for fat, the hemp seed protein...there is a third of what I want to eat in a day, and I'm hungry an hour later.)

It's either constantly fight and think about how "it's okay to feel hungry" or give in and pig out. Or eat something satisfying (wow. a bowl of plain plain plain oatmeal) and pay for it all night and the next day. I'm so fucking sick of it that I'm ready to give up. Fuck teaching Pilates, I'm sorry but I wouldn't want a fat Pilates teacher. Fuck dressing nicely, fuck exercising, fuck even leaving the house.

So I ask my chiropractor for help, even though I have really low expectations. He's a nutrition expert. Well. So am I after years of shitty food issues, then digestive issues, and now autoimmune thyroid disease. Trust me. But I figure, another (educated) perspective could help.

So I write him what is basically a book...several pages of how I feel, how I used to feel, what I eat, how much I would like to eat, photos of me at my happiest weight (read: before I had any kind of thoughts about food other than "hungry? eat. yum. thanks. no more. full. no thanks.") and basic info about me and what my goals are.

And he tells me: "I think you should stop counting calories."

Thanks. Thanks a lot. Now, HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO STOP GAINING WEIGHT, MUCH LESS LOSE IT, IF I JUST RANDOMLY STICK CRAP INTO MY FUCKING MOUTH????

As much as I would LOVE to be one of those elusive perfect women who just eat when hungry, stop when full, exercise because it feels good, and stays the same perfect weight, I'm NOT. Left to my own devices, I can easily eat 2-3 times what I need. And with my activity level, I need a LOT. I have no "off" switch, and to make it worse, once I go over my own daily set limit, I say "FUCK IT LET'S MAKE YOURSELF SICK YOU FUCKING PIG GO DIE!!!" and eat shit that I would not want to even admit I put in my body.

So yeah. I can eat, basically, certain fruits, a few select veggies if pureed, baked potatoes, lentils (but I'm not supposed to; some people claim that they suppress thyroid), Organic Food Bar (a mix of almond butter, flax seeds, and other raw stuff...again, not supposed to eat b/c of thyroid but I do anyway) and, oh, that's about it. Anything else makes me sick in some way...extreme fatigue, weird allergic reaction, severe digestive upset for days. My life sucks, I don't want to go out, see people, do my job, or even go to the gym any more. Most of my clothes oddly still fit but if I am not careful I look like a slut trying to show too much skin and flop her boobs around (me when fit: 32 small small B. me when at worst: 32 pretty big D. Yeah. Some women would love this but I think it is gross, and never will understand implants.) I'd like my stuff to fit like it is supposed to. I'd like to not feel so fucking gross all the time. I'm really unhappy, and it really is just this. I should be happy. I have a great husband, a pretty comfortable life, a family that isn't perfect but much better than average, and a lot of interests (if only I could stay interested and not let my body get in the way). I kind of feel like I was somewhat genetically blessed: not a model, but it could be a LOT LOT LOT worse. I feel like shit that I am so unhappy, but it isn't anything that anyone around me could fix or control.
Blah, blah, blah.

Back to the chiropractor...I'm so frustrated. I wish I could even TRY to "not count calories" but that sounds like something I would like to try to do AFTER the weight is gone and I am comfortable experimenting.
He wants me to see a lady who he says "is not a therapist" but would help. Wow, how vague. I have tried it all. Therapy, Reiki, weird rituals involving calling up friendly spirits (not my idea, and don't ask, I was trapped in a weird situation in Hawaii of all places), regular doctors, alternative doctors, meditation, essential oils, homeopathics, food combining, list goes on and on and on and on and on. As much as I love yoga and try to stay vegan and try to stay as natural as possible, I can't do the whole chanting dancing emotional blech that people throw around. No, I am not closed-minded. I have tried all this stuff...and instead of the "emotional freedom" I am supposed to feel, it makes me uncomfortable and impatient and anxious. I have tried. MANY times.
So now what? Seriously, I feel like I'm not worth getting my roots done, fixing my pedicure, or even brushing my god damn useless teeth. It's the shittiest existence I can imagine.

And if you have read all this, wow, thank you. I can go on and on forever. So thanks.
And extra thanks if you don't immediately think I'm completely out of marbles.

GETTING RID OF STUFF

2008-11-12T11:03:00.000-08:00

I am so guilty of "OMG, I have (insert event here) to go to and nothing to wear!"
then running out to buy something semi-nice. Meaning, I spend a decent amount of money, but end up with something that never gets worn again--not a favorite.
You would not believe the amount of this kind of stuff I have lying around...in my closet, in drawers, in storage bins...
it's time to get rid of it! Lately I have been very discriminating with purchases...if I don't love something immediately (save for minor alterations like cami straps too long or pants need hemming) it goes back on the rack (or in the mail). I am sure I am not alone in buying things that are just "passable" because it is all I can find for a job interview (date, party, dinner with family, etc) or because it looked cute on the hanger or was on sale or whatever. NO more of that. Seriously, when I add up what I would spend on "just ok" stuff, and eliminate that (it's stressful, too, that last-minute dash), I have more freedom to buy better stuff.
And selling all that "just ok" stuff on ebay is fun, too:)
So...here's to cleaning.

JUST SAD

2008-11-11T21:27:00.000-08:00

I haven't been writing because all weekend and the past two days, Piper is not feeling well. For several reasons, I suspect that she is diabetic:(
Husband takes her to the vet tomorrow. I am so sad for my little baby!! I know, I keep writing about her, but I can't help it. My blog is boring...still no pictures of pretty clothes and shoes:(
I will post them, I promise. I can't really concentrate on anything until I know Piper is going to be okay.
Hopefully I am just overreacting!

THE BEST UNDERWEAR OUT THERE

2008-11-10T09:34:00.000-08:00

I'll admit it. Much of the time, I am a "nothing" girl. (God, I hate the word "commando." *shudders*)
However, there are many times when a girl needs something under the lower portion of her outfit. I choose thong, all the time, no matter what, when I am wearing ... (I also hate the p-word. Please don't say it. Ick.)
Now, sometimes I love Macy's, sometimes I hate it, but when it comes to cheap, sexy, comfortable thongs, these win hands down. I'd post the photo, but then I have a feeling someone would "report" me as an adult blog. Booooo.

And...would you consider a thong as an accessory? I do, hee hee!

STOP! SMOOTHIE TIME!!

2008-11-10T08:59:00.000-08:00

Every year around this time, I start getting really excited about raw foods. It's backwards, I know.
It's probably because it was in the fall of 2002 that I first worked with the raw foods concept. Anyway, it's time again for me to do a little juice/smoothie feast.

Let's talk about my diet in general. I have one of the worst digestive systems ever, and it is really unfair. Even as a kid, when I didn't know or care much about nutrition, I was never much of a McDonalds/pizza/fried food eater. I was a picky eater who didn't eat much. Sure, I ate those things, but my family did not rely on it as "dinner." I remember that going to fast food was something we did on a summer afternoon after my mom had taken me to the pool (before we got one.) Anyway, in my very early 20's, I started having the worst problems ever. Nobody and nothing could help in any way. I basically took it into my own hands at that point, and years of trial and error later, I now have a few options. One of them is sticking exclusively to raw foods, and if it is leafy at all, it MUST be made into a smoothie with my Vitamix. Recently, I have been experimenting with other things, and going back to dairy is a NO, wheat and other grains are a NO (but I miss rice and want to try again!) but plain baked potatoes and plain lentils are great. Wow. How fun. I won't go into lecture mode, but you CAN get all the nutrition you need with exclusively (or damn near exclusively) raw foods, especially if you are active and actually NEED more carbs. However, it is time-consuming and expensive.
"Don't you get bored?" Of course I do!! I used to be one of those people who felt DAMN SPECIAL because I was a fruitarian, I didn't need deodorant anymore (yes, this happens), and blah, blah, blah. Then I spent some time on a web forum with thousands of people who were like that to an extreme, and I realized that I did not want to be like them. Yes, I do get bored. I don't think I'm particularly special (at least not because I do or don't eat something, heh heh). I want some toast. I want some yogurt. I want a cupcake. Sometimes, I do eat those things. But it means 12-72 hours of being so sick and uncomfortable that I can't work, clean the house, work out, do much of anything except lay around and read books. And it's not worth it. For years I went to conventional doctors. Recently, a naturopath (helped a bit, but helped more with other, non-digestive issues). Most recently, a chiropractor (helping with digestive efficiency but not really with tolerance to foods). So really, I HAVE tried, and if feeling well enough to live means not eating Thanksgiving dinner, then so be it. I have wasted so much time already.

So back to the point...today was my first day of (hopefully) three weeks of smoothie-tastic energy. (How cheesy. And yes, I know that overlaps Thanksgiving, but again...I cannot find a vegan roast recipe that does not include something I need to avoid. So we're doing something different.) If I make any new and delicious recipes, maybe I will post them.

A COUPLE MORE PIPER PHOTOS

2008-11-09T21:11:00.000-08:00

Poor Piper. She is not feeling well today.
I suspect that it is the treats I got her the other night. I ran (literally; I wanted more exercise) to the store to buy my husband some ice cream. It was a store I normally never shop at. They had a section of refrigerated dog food/treats. I guess the fluorescent lighting made me high or something. I eat organic food. I want to feed my dog organic food. But since the only ingredients were chicken and chicken broth, well, I thought "sure, these are okay." Yeah. Since I'm one of those people who can't leave a store without a small gift for my dog.
The treats smelled like those pre-packaged chicken strips for humans. Which I hate. But she liked it okay. She ate them.
And now, she is...squirting at both ends. I know that is not a nice thing to say, but I can't think of anything nicer. She's been good about making it to her litter paper for most of it, but she has thrown up on her cute pink bed twice. I need to call the holistic vet tomorrow to set up an appointment for her next shots, but if she gets worse I am going to demand a visit ASAP. I had to take her an hour away Thursday to see the vet affiliated with where we got her. It was required, which is good, but annoying, since it was far away and she is not so sure she likes the car.
She has not had an easy time. That vet said she needed ear drops (the wax tested positive for yeast, which means she may have an infection, he said) and she HATES the ear drops. She also shook them right out on Thursday in the vet's office. Right on to my new Marc Jacobs military style jacket. Argh.
I make it sound like life is hard for her. Yeah, right. I wanted to crate her at night, at least for now, when she wants to chew electrical cords and pee on new 100% silk comforters from Garnet Hill. (I have been using the same down comforter that my grandma gave me as a going away to college present. In 1997. I have sewn up so many rips in that thing, and it has not been white for years. Not having the heart to donate it, I put it in one of those XL zipper bags and into a plastic roll-y bin. But why could she not have peed on it? At least that I can machine wash.) The past two nights, however, husband puts her on the bed between us. Last night the following conversation occured:
HUSBAND puts Piper on bed.
ME: Oh, you want her to stay here all night?
HUSBAND: Ye-e-e-e-s
ME: I'm scared she will wake up and try to jump off the bed again.
HUSBAND: She will feel safe and warm here. She will be fine.
ME: I guess we need to get those doggie stairs now.
HUSBAND: okay!

So, he is totally spoiling the puppy. That's fine with me. I'm glad he loves her. But no, her life is nowhere near difficult. However, she seems stressed from all the ear drops, the upset digestive system, the cold...(for which my husband bought a dog heating pad...but it was my idea). Poor thing. I worry about her too much when I am gone.

In the past two days, her "lazy ear" has been standing up. Now she really looks like a chihuahua is supposed to look!
I am sounding like a crazy person, so I will end with two more photos:

Really not trying to show the world my husband's spare tire. But Piper climbed up on him and went to sleep. (And yes, that is the evil old TV in the background. It got to stay because I got a puppy, because "lonely dogs need TV." And it is a mess. I know.)

She really can sleep in any position. It is scary how heavy a sleeper she is. I want to photoshop a little drink into one of her paws.

MEAN AND PETTY, BUT...EW

2008-11-09T16:22:00.000-08:00

Sorry, but I just don't get it. I mean, on her body, it isn't the worst thing I have ever seen, but it is still really, really ugly. It's like "I Dream of Jeannie" goes to the prom in the early 90's.
I'm not a big celebrity follower at all, but sometimes I see something that makes me look twice. I saw this photo of her in a magazine I picked up at the gym when I realized I had left my ipod at home.

And I still don't understand why she cut off her hair. Short hair is one thing, but every part of her is starting to look more and more like her husband. Weird.

OUCH

2008-11-08T20:19:00.000-08:00

I'm not writing much this weekend...I'm in the middle of my Pilates reformer I & II teacher training. 22 hours of Pilates in four days.

Yeah. Ouch.

I'll be back soon.
With more photos of Piper (her ears are both standing now!) and some stuff I finally got in the mail.

ANGRY FACE

2008-11-07T09:04:00.000-08:00

Let's talk about...having "work" done.

(I know. Such a surprise coming from OCD Chemical-Free Girl. I know.)

I've had a love/hate relationship with my face throughout the years. (Doesn't everybody?) I think everyone has a gripe about their face. It could be their eyes, their neck, their complexion, scars, broken veins, blackheads...whatever. Usually, if it bothers you enough to affect you negatively, something relatively simple can be done to improve it. At one point, I hated my nose. I was 11. It got better. I hated my big forehead. Then I got a clue about the fact that those early-90's Alice bands were not for me. The list goes on...when I was young, I looked TOO young (being 16 and mistaken for a 7th grader?-not fun!). Now that I am starting to get little lines on my forehead (too much worrying, too much refusing to wear my glasses or contacts and squinting) I feel like they are HUGE WRINKLES and make me look 40 (if you don't know, I'm 29). Some days, it bothers me a lot, but mostly, I am okay with it. Your face is supposed to age. You smile, you cry, you laugh...you get lines.

But the one thing that I truly hate about my face is not caused by aging, and can't be fixed with Botox or a facelift or anti-wrinkle cream or chemical peels.

I feel like I have no lips. And looking at my mother, I am afraid for my future.
Sure, big lips are sexy, "in," and a necessity for porn stars. But over the years, I have realized that people think I am making a face at them, when in reality, it is just my face. My ridiculous, tiny, doll-lips, at my age, just make me look angry or bitchy. Not the kind of person you would want to approach. Not the kind of person you would want to work with.
I realize that in most photos, you want to be smiling. However, most people can get away with a candid in which they are not smiling, and not look like a serial killer contemplating her next hit. I, however, look like an angry psychotic with HUGE eyes and a pinched mouth. And yet I am not pinching it. That's just my face. When I was 14, I went to Glamour Shots. (It was highly popular in 1993. The pageant cowgirl hair and all.) The photographer took only one shot of "serious face" and that was it. The rest turned out great (if you can ignore the 90's clothing, stupid poses, and above-mentioned hair). The "serious" one? I looked PISSED OFF. I wasn't. Come on, I was 14 and pretending to be a model. Think I was mad? NO!
A couple of years ago, my ex posted some photos from a club's grand opening on his website. I made him immediately remove all the candids of me...talking to a friend, buying a drink...not because my outfit sucked (it did, but that was the least of my problems) but because I looked like a petulant, angry, crazy person.
I never wear lipstick, because contrasting the color between my lips and face make them look even smaller. I have been known to mix flesh colored powder with shiny clear gloss. That's it. No darker shades, ever.
I don't want Angelina Jolie's lips, I don't want porn star lips, I don't want people who have never met me to look at me and say "wow, your cosmetic surgeon sure is good!"

I do, however, want lips. Ones that stay around long after the lip plumper has been licked off, ones that make me look content when my face is relaxed (as opposed to angry).
I realize something like "having work done" is a big deal. It is not cheap, it can be botched, and some options (I already know) are not for me. I am not positive I will even do anything about it. I have, however, started a "lip fund" in which I place 2/3 of the money that I would normally spend on stupid things (junk food I don't need, books I would read in one day and then donate to the Salvation Army which can easily be found at the library, a stupid tank top that I might wear once and then send to the back of the closet, etc...and the other 1/3 is for credit cards, but I digress).
It is an incentive. I am trying to reach a goal (more on that some other time) and once I am there, I plan to go for a consultation. No promises, no deals. Just to see.
Because even though I am generally happy, people always ask me what is wrong. Aging is going to happen, and I'll decide how to deal with that as well. But feeling as if the world completely misunderstands you because of something like your mouth? Unacceptable to me.
So we'll see...