Naked Banana

Mom Jeans and Minivans

2011-12-12T14:27:00.001-08:00

It has been quite some time since I have written anything. Correction, POSTED anything. I have a lot of half written posts waiting to be published but weren't. I guess one could say it's the blogging equivalent to dialing 6 of the 7 digits of someones phone number and then hanging up.

Bingo was born nine weeks ago tomorrow. Crazy to me that its been nine weeks. But even crazier that I am now a mom. I don't feel like a mom. I mean, I do in the sense that she's attached to my boobie 24/7 (sorry for the tmi to those that are grossed out by that kind of thing) and that she wants me to hold her and cuddle her all the time and that I feel this unexplainable ache to be near her when we are apart. And I do in the sense that I am over the moon in adoration for her.

But in terms of the actual person, I don't feel like a "mom".

With no offense to my own mother or any of her friends or any mothers out there, I have had this notion or idea in my mind that moms are frumpy. Moms drive minivans and wear jeans with pleats in the front. Moms say things like daggummit, shoot and golly gee. Moms have no sense of humor or if they do it doesn't extend past a knock-knock joke. Moms watch TV shows that are decades old or they don't watch TV at all. Moms have collections of holiday sweatshirts with cats being various Christmas characters. Moms mix up names of really popular things like YouTunes and iTube. Moms are frumpy.

I realize that the above isn't (always) true. Because I have not become any of those things. I still am me. I say Fuck all the time. I make really dumb jokes, I love to go shopping for make up and clothes, I wear skinny jeans and drive a compact car. I still have girls night and drink wine or cocktails, and when I wash my face before bed I still half expect to see the reflection in the mirror of a monster standing behind me. I am still all of the things that make me who I am, I just happen to be someones mommy now.

Yup. I am Mommy. Still sounds funny to say. But each day it's said I love it more and more.

When I was pregnant people used to say things like "having kids will change you" "having kids will ruin your life" "you can't do anything fun once you have kids" "your life will be over". Which is really mean if you think about it. I was already pregnant, what was I supposed to do? Thats like those people telling you about plane crashes five minutes before your flight to Paris. What a bunch of assholes...Ahh that's a post for another time.

But anyway I knew what they were saying was not true. THAT'S what having kids did to THEM. But it didn't mean it was going to do that to me. And so far it hasn't. Now granted it has only been nine weeks; but still. It did not change me. It didn't change the real actual dorky, swearing, fashion loving me, it just added to who I already am. And truth be told, it didn't end my life, it started my life.

Little Bingo completes the puzzle that is our family. She was the last piece we needed. And now we are a whole picture. Now I am whole.

I Wanna Stay Home

2011-04-10T20:09:00.000-07:00

I have this song by Jellyfish called " I wanna stay home" stuck in my head. I love that song. Matty hates it. Hooray for earphones!

It has been so long since I have posted that I don't even know if anybody reads this anymore. Not that it even matters. I just haven't had anything to say. Not that my life is so boring and woe is me because nothing is exciting blah blah blah. Actually life is pretty good. But I don't even have anything to say about that.

So why bother posting? I guess I am just bored. And it's Sunday night. And I really really do not want to work tomorrow. And I am not really doing anything else. Dinner has been made and cleaned up. The dishes are done ("the dishes are done man!" movie reference anybody?) Laundry is folded and put away. The pup has been walked and fed. I am just sitting around. Why not post about how I am doing nothing but super happy about it?

I feel good about stuff. I am looking forward to things. I have a positive outlook. Things are good. But I am scared to completely give in to the hippy-dippy-feelin'-groovy-can-you-dig-it-baby mind set. You know so much s**t happened in the last seven months I am hesitant to let out the sigh of relief that maybe the storm has passed or the psycho stalker is dead. Cause if you have seen as many movies as I have, we all know that it never has passed and he never is really dead. If it were that easy there would never be any sequels.

Between a miscarriage in June, a front door step armed robbery in September, the death of a sister-in-law in January and a super sick grandma all in less than a year; I am confident when I say that it's been too much. I sort of just got beaten down after a while. And I didn't really care about anything anymore. But for the first time in a while, I am starting to feel a little better. I feel like things are in order again. And that scares the crap out of me.

I guess because things were so crazy for so long and it felt like there was no end in sight. Now it appears (knock wood spit spit spit) that things have calmed down a bit. And I can breath easy. But my guard is still way up there. And to be totally honest, my arms are tired from holding it up for so long. I am ready to put it down, but I still can't. Even though my arms are about to give out cause I can't hold it up much longer.

I wish I could just stay right here. Snuggled up on the couch with my Matty B, the pup and family guy on the DVR. Forever. It's nice here and I am so very happy. But I know I have to keep on keepin' on as the Brady Bunch would say (not that I would really take any sage advise from them of all people ). I know that even though I am happy now, something can still happen that will throw me. But that's all part of my life. It's a part of every one's lives. And even though things or events might occur that will upset me or that I don't like, I still have to show up for my life. I can't stay on the couch forever.

I guess that's all I or anyone can do, show up for life with an open mind and an open heart and hope for the best.

Love you kids!

Behind The Door

2011-02-08T20:17:00.000-08:00

I rarely find myself at a place when I am lost for words. But here I am. Quite the predicament when you are writing a blog I guess.

If I could turn back time (And damn you Cher for ruining that phrase for anyone who ever wants to use it) I still don't think I would change anything. Well, I guess maybe I would have been more diplomatic, something I fail miserably at when I feel attacked or provoked. Or when words and judgments thrown about that are a bit too personal for my liking.

Maybe I was the foolish one. Maybe I am just as guilty of bad behavior. Maybe the other is sitting around feeling just as rotten as I. A thought that makes me very sorry. But whats done is done. And once something is there is no way of making it not. There is no fixing or changing or any making it better. It's broken and that's all there is to it.

I realize though that the mean one in this situation isn't my antagonizer, it's me. And the person I owe the biggest apology to is myself. I let me down today. I broke a promise to me. I put someone else, something else, as number one and let myself fall away. I let it take over my thoughts and my ideas, I gave it a permanent residency in my heart, I gave it the keys to the door all my worries and insecurities hid behind and I let it live there. Shame on them for acting like they did? Shame on them for saying the things they did? No. But shame on me for letting it happen and shame on me for saying it was okay.

When forced to stay in a situation that is beyond repair the only way to fix it is to put it to rest, to end it and move on. Otherwise it becomes toxic. And once that happens all hope for anything better is lost.

A bit dramatic maybe but it's the truth.

So now what? Is there an open road with smooth sailing? Is there a dark, scary, and bumpy trail with monsters hiding behind trees? Is there something completely irresponsible, stupid, and a total waste of time? Or is it the moment I have been meant to cease all along? I have no idea. But I should find out.

It's my door to open and it's time to see what is on the other side.

say ahh

2010-09-19T21:00:00.000-07:00

There are a few things in this world that I abhor even more than finding hair in my food. Most of them are pretty typical; stupid teenagers, not being able to see the hidden picture in those paintings that are all dots and, okra (side note: don't even get me started on okra, it is so vile, it's what I imagine eating a caterpillar is like *insert dry heave*)

But what I hate more than anything is the dentist. It is, pants down, the worst most awful task a human must subject themselves to. I will even go as far as to say it's worse than a pap smear (sorry guys).

I got home from work on Friday to a message from my dentist informing me it's time for my six month check up. It was a very friendly message but listening to it almost induced a panic attack. I got sweaty and anxious and I didn't even finish listening to it before I hit the delete button and hid under the pillows on my couch.

Seriously, why do teeth have to rot? Or need to be looked at twice a year? How I wish teeth were just made of bone. Who ever the "genius" was that invented the human body should be fired for that little slip up. Shouldn't we just get one good set of teeth and have them be maintenance free?

Between watching sugars, white flour intake, salts, empty calories, saturated fats, regular calories, high fructose corn syrup, making sure to floss and brush twice a day, wearing sunscreen, monitoring my moles and freckles, taking a multi-vitamin, waxing regularly, getting at least five hours of activity a week, making sure blood pressure and cholesterol are in check, changing the oil in my car every five thousand miles, sending thank you notes, and remembering to have a life between working all day and trying to get settled into the new house; it's just one more thing to worry about.

To me it's enough to immediately turn me into a temper tantrum throwing three year old. When I heard the words "time for a teeth cleaning" I just wanted to throw myself on the floor and cry my eyes out. I was just there six months ago. Why do I have to go again? I don't want to go again. I. Hate. This.

Of course there is an alternative. I could not go. At all ever. Nobody is forcing me to go. But then my teeth would totally rot out of my head. Which would be fine if I were a hockey player or heavily involved in roller-derby or if I was addicted to meth and living in a trailer park in some red state. Because I am sure that is the norm in those kinds of situations. And probably considered attractive and/or convenient. But I want my teeth. I just don't want to have to deal with all the up keep.

Left Overs

2010-08-30T21:13:00.000-07:00

It will never cease to amaze me how much people just love to start shit. For no reason. And all just up outta no where too.

Things are all fine and dandy. I am enjoying my day. "Oh what's that? You're enjoying a nice day? Well please, allow me to throw this fist full of dog crap into your apple-tini of a day"

Seriously, Why The Face?

I do not nor will I ever understand it.

I am sure there is some deep seeded psychological reason for the need. They are bored. They are not loved enough. They don't have cable television. Who knows. But whatever the reason may be I really really wish that I could just be left out of it.

I have made it very clear to said shit disturber to think of me like Switzerland. If they have an issue with someone or feel like starting a revolution or whatever it is that is bothering them at that particular moment; Pretty please with a cherry on top, don't involve me.

But it seems to have fallen of deaf ears. And my reluctance and unwillingness to participate in their childish games has resulted in me being the new target. Which is just the dumbest thing I have ever heard of. Wait, I take it back. The "Shake Weight" is the dumbest thing I have ever heard of. But regardless, it is still just dumb.

It bothers me that it has come to this. It bothers me that this even bothers me.

I know it is stupid. The people who matter know that it is stupid also. So then why am I feeling the need to use up my time and precious blogging space to even discus it? Why am I even giving it a second thought? Why not just ignore this nonsense like the ramblings of a three year old? Why not just regard it much like I do when my Grandma goes on and on about how I look just like Elizabeth Hurley, which thanks for the complement grammy, I most certainly do not.

I guess it's because it is so unwarranted. So untrue. So hurtful.

It hurts when I have been nothing but nice to said someone and they turn around and tell lies. Just the most blatant malicious untruths. I am left speechless. But at the same time not at all surprised.

People always say things like "the truth comes out in the end" or "what goes around comes around" or "they will get theirs"

But is that even true? Will that ever really happen?

I am having a hard time seeing the happy ending in this poop in my martini of a situation.

Grrrrr.

Late night last minute ramblings.

2010-08-24T21:35:00.000-07:00

I can't quite figure out how to do this new lay-out thingy and it's making me bonkers.

I think the new template I picked is so, I dunno, vanilla. Is that a good way to describe it? It's like a pinkberry with no toppings or an episode of Springer with no weave pulling. Bor-ring.

But I am too lazy and/or unmotivated to do anything about it right now. My brain is fried from overdosing on moving boxes, boxes and more boxes and from yearly projected budget proposals in excel format that needed to be revised and revised and revised again.

Between work and moving I am amazed I have enough energy to brush my hair. I don't even have the energy to finish posting this. But I want to finish. Even though there is absolutely no point or story that I want to get across. I am just posting for the sake of posting. I had the time and as tired as I am, it is still to early to go to bed.

I have had that No Doubt song "making out" stuck in my head all damn day. I even tried my song-stuck-in-your-head remedy of singing "Safety Dance" instead but to no avail it's 10 pm and it's still there "I'm on the second floor with a lock on my door". I have the iPod on shuffle but for some reason all it is playing is my Christmas music, which feels really weird to be listening to in August. Especially when it's like, the hottest day ever. I think it was 102 or something today. But I won't complain, the new place has got central air. Friggen Sweet.

That's all I got in me for now kids. A comfy bed and a Sudoku puzzle book is calling my name.

Flove you!

Cha-Cha-Cha-Changes

2010-08-09T17:18:00.000-07:00

Nine years ago my boyfriends sister was moving into a house with her fiancée.

She had mentioned to her landlady that we (her little brother and his girlfriend) were looking for a place and the landlady said we could have it. It saved her the trouble of looking for tenants.

So on August 6, 2001, I moved into a tiny apartment with my boyfriend. It was small, close to both of our jobs, cheap and available. I remember as we were having our first dinner together in our kitchen that was covered in boxes, we made a joke that we would never move out.

" I bet you a nickel we will live here for like, eight years " I said

"No way, try 15 years " he replied.

Both of us could not imagine the idea of living there for any longer than three years. But life has a funny way with those kinds of things. Nine years seemed like a blink of an eye. And we just, never moved.

Within in that first year we grew to love that apartment more and more. It was this cozy little nook that we had made our own. We strung twinkle lights and got Ikea furniture. We would sit and drink wine while we pretended we lived in New York because of how tiny our place was. We would be adventurous and cook new things. Some of them were total failures others were smashing successes. We were happy in our little place.

The first year passed and my boyfriend became my fiancée.

The second year passed and my fiancée became my husband.

Years four, five, six, seven, eight and nine passed with so many life events lived and experienced inside that apartment.

An engagement that turned into a marriage, the birth of six nieces and nephews, the loss of a parent, a grandparent and a pregnancy, the witnessing of 9/11 and the election of our first african american president, the start of two wars, fights of our own, holidays like Christmases and New Years, birthdays, thanksgivings, layoffs, trips, daydreams, joys, accomplishments, failures, hangovers, stupid jokes that made us laugh so hard we thought we would pass out from not being able to breath, conversations that lasted until sunrise and a broken closet door that was never fixed.

All I see when I think of that place is years and years of happiness.

So as I sit here in the apartment, surrounded with boxes again because we are moving into a house, I can't help but feel a little sad that this chapter is ending.

But I am so hopeful and excited for what will be in the next chapter.

A chapter that starts with a washer/dryer hookup non the less.

Bring to boil, stir in S**t, let stand.

2010-03-27T10:50:00.000-07:00

There are times when I really truly know who I am right down to my every cell. Then there are other times, like the other night, when I get myself into a situation and I hear myself say something or agree to things that are so far from me that it makes me feel as though I don't know who I am at all.

Why is it that we allow people to make us feel like they know who we are better then we do?

The other night I went out with some "acquaintances". To be honest, I was really looking forward to it when I was invited. You can never have too many friends and I was happy about having the opportunity of getting to know these people better. But it was not as fun as I hoped it would be. Instead of an evening dishing work cheese, make-up tips, LOST theories and stories of where/how we met our significant others, it quickly turned into something ugly. Something that I didn't sign up for when I excepted the invitation.

I would say it turned into a mini intervention because that's how caught of guard I felt, but even that is too weak an analogy. They didn't want to have drinks with me to become my friend, they wanted to have drinks because they wanted something from me. They need dirty work done and apparently I am the best person for the job.

In a nut shell, they have an issue with someone we all know and tried to make their issues with that person my issues. Which, for a while I was agreeing with. I nodded my head when they said things like "so n so is mean to you." and "You are so much better than (fill in the blank)"and "You need to stand up to so n so and do something about it" and "don't you see how poor this situation is?"

"Something has to be done" they said again and again. I was the only one who could do it. Like they wanted me to slay a dragon or something.

I nodded and told them I agreed and I would help. Something in me twinged. But I just shrugged it off. Even though, the words sounded wrong coming out of me, I finished saying them. When my ears heard what I said I got an even bigger twinge, it was like Huh? That's not what I think. Who said that? I might as well have said "oh wow I just love mud wrestling. it's totally my fave."

At the time I didn't think anything of what they had said to me or the way it was brought up. They were so nice and kept telling me how they have my back and care about me. But when I replayed the conversation again in my head on the way home there was something about it that didn't sit quite right. Something in me felt off.

And I realized that I had just been used.

I replayed the conversation in my head over and over. And had many moments of regret from things I agreed with and in truth don't agree with at all. There was one thing I did happen to agree with but not as strongly as they do. But even so I shouldn't have said anything.

They convinced me that their issues were my issues. That I have a problem that needs to be fixed, that I need to be less passive, that I need to stand up for myself. When really, THEY have the issues, not me.

When I have a problem I fix it. When I feel walked on I speak. I am not passive, I am an adult. They need to fix their own shit and not involve me. But yet in that moment I forgot that I know all of that.

Why is it that I know all of these things about me, but yet when I was in a situation where I needed to be myself the most, I just sipped my cocktail and agreed to the farcicality of everything? I sat there thinking that these people have my best interest at heart. What they are saying must be true. So I listened and I let them make me believe I was something I am not. Which just infuriates me.

Lord help me if I ever get kidnapped by a cult.

Serious Life Question

2010-03-17T19:08:00.000-07:00

Why the fug are they so stingy at Subway?

Seriously. What gives?

They ask if you want olives on your sandwich and you say "yes". And then they only put three, maybe four little olive slices on it. Teeny slices BTW. All of them together are not even the equivalent of one whole olive. So they should really re-phrase the question to "would you like AN OLIVE on your sandwich?".

Single, not plural.

Even if you ask for extra, all you will get is one single olive.

I know it is not a huge deal. There are more important questions to ask and more pressing issues to get worked up about... but still.

Blargggg

2010-02-06T19:35:00.000-08:00

I don't like cleaning. I really really don't. Which is kind of ironic considering that my favorite kind of movie montage is a cleaning montage. Make of that what you will.

I should clean though. Because somehow, all of my clothes have managed to make their way off the hangers in the closet and out of the dresser drawers, into one huge pile onto the bedroom floor. And they have been like that for a few days. So everything is getting wrinkled and looks very old and dirty when I put it on; even though I did just do laundry a week ago. But the very thought of putting anything away right now makes me want to take a long winters nap.

I should put my clothes away. Before Sunday night. Because I know it is very UN-lady like to leave my shit laying around everywhere. And believe you me, my shite is ev-ery-wh-ere.

Shoes, cardigans, lip glosses and hairpins. You name it, whatever it is , it is one of the many items of mine that is out of place somewhere in the apartment. Just sitting where it shouldn't be. It's not that I am lazy. I do want to clean. Really. I do want to. A little. Kind of. Not really. Okay fine, not at all.

But you know, whatever. I'll get to it.

Excuse me, is that space taken?

2009-11-08T16:03:00.000-08:00

Last night we had dinner with my Brother in law and his wife. We always have the best time with them. They are super funny and have a really nice apartment. They got this amazing Indian take out. We drank wine and had dark chocolate. It was the best evening.

We got home close to eleven. As Matty and I pulled into the apartment parking lot we saw that someone had parked in our assigned parking place. WTF?

It was clearly not anyone who lives in our building. We all have one assigned space and everyone respects that. So I knew it wasn't someone who lived here. It had to be somebodies guest. Who does that? Who just parks in someones ASSIGNED parking place?

I stayed in the driveway idling for a minute or two thinking that whoever it was would see that I was waiting for them to get their ass out of my spot. But nope. Nobody came.

I pulled out of the driveway and parked on the street, not near the Juicy Catour hookers house though. I don't really care for parking on the street even though there is pleanty of parking available there, when we have an assigned space that I can use. I was so irritated. When I came inside I wrote a note.

Hey doucher, this is my spot. Get the F-bomb out!

No not really. It was far more friendly then that. Though it was hard not to be, grrrrrrrr. I left the note on the car windshield and went to bed.

Matty told me that he heard whoever it was that had parked there leave at 3 am.

They stayed there for 4 hours? Four hours. Seriously?

I would never do that. Who just up and takes somebodies spot? I understand if you just have to run in someplace really quickly and you're just going to be there for a minute or two. But to park there ALL freaking night? Come on.

I guess it bothered me because I do my very best to be respectful of people. I don't talk during movies, I don't take what is not mine, I don't play my music super loud, I don't cut in line, I don't leave my trash for someone else to throw away and I most certainly don't park where I shouldn't. And I would hope that others would be more like that too.

Maybe it's generational? It appears that kids today have no respect for others. There is this just lack of understanding. And even worse, an overwhelming sense of entitlement. It makes me batty.

I am totally turning into my "you crazy kids get off my lawn" father.

The One Hundredth

2009-10-27T21:48:00.000-07:00

It's my one hundredth post!

I feel like I should have something monumental to write. Like some kind of huge realization, some words of wisdom, the funniest post ever written in all of blogging land. But I really don't have anything like that to say. I just have what is running in my head at the moment.

It's windy outside. Like, "I just might see a Delorean fly by with the Doc and Marty Mcfly" kind of windy. Matty is working until what might as well be next week. I embellish, he's working until like 1 am. I have had a glass of wine (Okay 2...Fine 3) and I am listening to my guilty pleasure iPod mix. Songs of which include Black Eyed Peas "meet me halfway" Shakira "She Wolf" , Golfrapp "oh la la" and Beyonce "single ladies"

I feel fantastic! Uh-oh. I hope this doesn't turn in to a drunk post....

Ehhhh fuck it. Who cares if it does? I wouldn't write anything I would be embarrassed of. Though my spelling might be compromised. That might be kind of embarrassing.

As for my random ramblings...

There's this girl who lives across the street from me. I think she's like 18. She tail gated me on the way home tonight flashing her brights and honking. If I felt then how I feel right now I would have gotten out of my car and bitch slapped her back to her prom. (But then again, if I did feel then like I feel now, I probably would not be driving) She's a brat. A few months ago she left a note on my car asking me not to park by her house because if I parked there she would "have to walk far to get home". I doubt where I parked was even twenty feet from her home. It was nowhere near where she would have parked. What a hoe. I wanted to let all the air out of her tires. Looks like you have to walk far now hooker! Is it bad that I knew I didn't like her even before the note on the car incident cause all she wears is Juicy Catour track suits? SO effing trashy. Once in a while sure, but every day? bleccchhhh.

I had a meeting with the boss lady today. She said I am doing a good job. I still think I will be fired any minute though. I am so superstitious I won't even leave hand lotion in my desk. My co-worker said that my desk looks like I am ready to leave at a moments notice. I told her if she had been laid off three times in a row she would understand why I don't make my desk look lived in.

I cry like a baby when I watch "The Biggest Looser" and those Sarah McLaughlin animal commercials. Tonight was no exception.

The "equal rights" petitioners have been hanging out in front of the Starbucks by my office. I kind of feel like a bad person when they ask if I have time for equality and I say no because I only have ten minutes to buy my coffee. Yes. I admit it. I choose caffeine over equality. But only when I am really tired.

I will be 31 in two weeks and I am more excited about this birthday then when I was going to turn 21.

I have really great friends. I love them so much. I think if they knew how much I liked them they would think I was a weirdo and run away.

Wine is just the best.

Have you heard that song by Florence and the Machine called "Dog Days Are Over"? Damn that's a good song. Listen to it. Listen to it loud. Especially after you have had a few drinks. Love it!!!

LOST starts in 3 months. But I am not as excited as normal cause its the last season. I'm kind of sad. I think I will cry when it ends. I hope it ends really well.

Singing "Oh la la la la ohhhhh la la la " sorry Goldfrapp was on.

I knew I wanted to make movies my whole life. I just wasn't sure in what way. But after seeing "Lost In Translation" and "Punch Drunk Love" I knew that I wanted to be a writer. Funny thing about that is, a year ago I went to a talk with PT Anderson and he said that he was inspired to make films again after seeing "Lost In Translation" and that's when he made "Punch Drunk Love. I felt validated.

If I could move to Italy I would. Even if it meant being homeless. I would be homeless in Italy.

Deep down I know I am better than I think I am. I know I am better then what I think I deserve.

I don't want to work tomorrow. But who does?

I would eat El Pollo Loco or Sushi everyday if given the choice.

I had a dream last night that my teeth were falling out. I hate those kinds of dreams. When I woke up I made an appointment to see my dentist for a long over due teeth cleaning.

That movie "Halloween" still scares the poopie out of me. No matter how many times I see it. Too scary.

There's this token homeless man who wonders around where I work. He is always wearing a parka. Even when its hot out. I wonder where he came from. What were his choices in his life that got him to where he is today. He never asks for money or accepts offers of food.

I heard one of my co-workers use the show "Threes Company" as evidence in an argument to justify a misunderstanding. It made me like him much more.

My Nephew who is 6 is learning Mandarin. He told me that in Chinese bees don't say "buzz buzz buzz" they say "bong bong bong".

I think you have probably had enough of my blogging ramblings. And my wine glass is empty.

What about you guys? Share some ramblings with me.

xoxo
Hannah Banana

Contrarié

2009-10-13T20:19:00.000-07:00

Icky.

A nagging sickness in the pit of my stomach.

Thoughts are filled with questions of what has been said and when it was said. And why?

Wondering when the decision was made.

Did it take long? Was the jury hung for a bit until more evidence was gathered?

Or was it quick? Like, in just one moment, with one incident, it was decided?

"That" or "This" is why.

I will never ask.

Because I never want to know.

Not because I am made of sugar and would fall apart upon my ears hearing the very words. But because I am not surprised.

I don't need a reason. I don't their reason.

It would not be worth the energy of listening to. Just as to them I am not worth the energy of telling.

New Reactions

2009-10-10T10:52:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was sitting having a coffee and I over heard this woman talking about how she just found out she is pregnant.

Usually when I hear women talk about how they are pregnant I am happy for them. I always think "how nice for you" or "congratulations" and I when I say it to the expected mother I mean it. It comes from a place of sincerity.

But yesterday I was surprised by my initial reaction. I didn't think to myself "oh how wonderful for her" Because it was not happiness I felt for her. I felt jealous. It caught me off guard. I found it to be a very strange reaction.

It was on par to when I was just dating Matty and I would hear of people getting engaged.

I know that I want to have kids. But I still feel like maybe I am not ready. Like maybe I should go to Italy again just once more. That I should loose twenty more pounds. That I should pay off one more credit card. That I should save a little but more money.

But I know I can do those things pregnant. I can do those things with a baby. I guess there is nothing really stopping us. We just need to do it (no pun intended you dirty birds)

But what if I become one of those moms that I make fun of? The kind who are no sugar Nazis or who have no life because their entire social life revolves around play days and jamboree? What if I start to wear mom jeans? What if my car starts to smell like milk and crayon? What if I become a republican? What if I stop doing anything fun because "we have got a kid now so adult time is not an option"; something I am told so often by people we know with children.

Or worse,

What if I fuck it up? What if I am a horrible parent and my child grows up to hate me? What if I am the kind of parent who thinks I am a good parent but really, I am just awful? What if my child is a total terror and makes his/her teachers want to quit their jobs?

Honestly, I think we can raise a child. I think we can keep it from harm. I think we can take care of it. That part doesn't scare me. But it's all the other stuff that scares the crap out of me.

And it's not one of those things where if you realize it's a bad idea you can get out of it. Like a bunk mortgage or a shady deal on E-bay. It's a person. A living human being. There is no getting out of it. Once you are in. You are in. Forever.

My head hurts. I think too much.

Maybe I should not obsess so much about this. Maybe I should just keep my head in a good place, get as much as my shit together as I can and just jump in. And hopefully I won't loose myself in the process.

I am not sure when I am making the leap. It might be sooner that later. But mark my words. When I do become a mom I assure you this, I will never. EVER. Wear mom jeans or drive a mini van.

Greetings from Waikiki

2009-08-16T16:16:00.001-07:00

I arrived back early last Saturday morning after spending nine wonderful days in Oahu.

Nine sun filled days of not wearing a watch or closed-toed shoes. Nine peaceful days of not having to wear work pants or answer phone calls. Nine deep sleeping days of not having to get up by 7:00 am to get ready for the workday. Nine stress free days of being able to do whatever I want whenever I felt like it. Nine days of happy hour starting at 2:00 pm at the Tiki Tapas bar that over looked the warm pacific ocean. Nine days of sipping some tropical fruity drink with rum and a pineapple slice as I sat on our Lanai and watched the sunset.

Nine perfect peaceful wonderful restful blissful days.

So to say that I am glad to be finished with my nine day vacation is a fabrication of the truth. I am anything but glad. But it's finished none the less and there is nothing I can do about it. And I hate it when I don't get my way. I feel like a two year old who was just told to go to bed. Or that kid from the money pit when tom hanks asks him for money and he screams "no no no!"

But, it's finished now. Case closed. Excuse me I have to go cry.

Oahu is wonderful. Hawaii is wonderful. I adore it there.

I think that I adapted too easily to the lifestyle that I depicted above. The whole not really needing to know or caring to know what the time was, was probably the best part of all. The care free feeling of having no responsibility was better then any cocktail, hug, massage or spicy tuna hand roll from mikado I have ever had. It's really quite refreshing.

There is also something to be said about just being in the moment. Just being one with the day and trusting that things will unfold in the manner that they are supposed to. Not getting consumed with plans or what is going to happen next. Just living in the now of what you are doing.

I have said before that I am Zen when it comes to the BIG things. But, I do admit that I let the little things, usually work things, bother me. I just kind of, let things get in the way. So much so that it becomes a part of all of my thoughts. Or becomes my only thought. And the job I have now is no exception. I had been forgetting who I was and what I wanted. I have forgotten what I wanted.

But then one day as Matty and I were in the perfect Pacific ocean, I remembered.

We had found a shallow spot where we could sit in the water. I was skimming my hands on top of the water and Matty was picking up pieces of coral from the sand below and resting them on his chest.

"I'm letting them heal me" he said

And it just made me smile. Because it was cute. And because it seemed a very Matty thing to do.
It might sound hippy-dippy but I remembered, in that moment, Just what I wanted.

This. This is what I want.

Being with Matty. Traveling the world together. Living our lives together. Not worrying about our stupid jobs. Just being together and seeing things, experiencing new things. Being happy. Just being ourselves and living for us and no one else.

And I was so happy. I still am so happy.

Because even though my vacation is over. I am home with a clear picture of what it's all about. I remember what it is that I want. Who it is that I am. And that even though I still don't have that dream job. Its out there for me. And someday, I will have it.

I also know that even if it takes a few years to get that dream job, all the little jobs I have, however stupid, however coo coo the boss is, however bonkers it may make me feel.It's not who I am. But the hard work at theses jobs, will provide me the funds to do all the things I want so badly.

Maybe it was all the clean air. Maybe it was the salt water. Or maybe it was all the fruity cocktails. But something there reminded me of who I am.

My 9-5 job? That's not me. That's not what I want.

All my insecurities about my job performance being good enough? That's not me or something I want to feel either.

All those little and big adventures that I will take with Matty? That's what I want.

And our life we make together? That's what make me who I am.

People In Your Neighborhood

2009-07-21T18:59:00.000-07:00

At the bank today there was this man in front of me who smelled like donuts. Which is actually a pretty good thing to smell when you are packed in like sardines in a huge line full of people. Much better than cigarettes or sweat or poo. If you ask me.

This guy smelled so much like donuts I looked to see if he was eating one. But no, he just smelled really good. Not good enough to eat. But good enough to make me say diet-shmiet and seriously contemplate having donuts for lunch.

I wondered how someone could smell so much like food. Then I thought of the millions I could make for marketing desert smells as a perfume. And as I stood there day dreaming of krullers, he turned the corner to see a teller I saw that he was wearing a Krispy Cream shirt.

Ooohhhhhh.

He probably hates donuts now. And I bet he can't even smell the fried tasty goodness anymore. His nose is immune. So sad.

Time Management

2009-06-28T09:01:00.000-07:00

I realized that I am not the best at managing my time. When it comes to work projects I get a gold star. When I comes to following through on a promise I pass with flying colors.

But when it comes to me time, my personal stuff, I fail. I stink. No gold star for me.

I am not sure why. Because my stuff like my friends, my blog, my facebook, my career, my diet are all very important to me. But I tend to let myself get completely overwhelmed with being busy and all of that personal stuff just falls by the wayside.

I have not posted in a month, I have not replied to any of my messages on the facebook in weeks, I have gained 8 pounds of the nearly 25 that I lost on weight watchers back. I have not hung out with my girlfriends on our date night (Wednesdays) in three weeks. And its not that I don't want to do those things but I haven't.

I think that I need to work on being more selfish. I am too generous with my time. I just give it away like it's an endless box of Kleenex. Pulling out moments of time one right after the other effortlessly like the box will never run out. But what happens when I need a Kleenex? What happens when I need one of my own Kleenexes and my box is empty?

It's nobodies fault but my own. I can get to a WW meeting and pick up the food journal any day any time. I can catch up on facebook messages in the morning before I go to work. I can write a post in a word document on my lunch break and then upload it at home when I am off work. I can make sure that I don't schedule myself for anything else on Wednesday nights except for date night. I just need to do it.

I can. I know I can. It will just take me managing my time better.

Ever so graceful

2009-06-25T12:20:00.000-07:00

It's funny how differently we look at things now that we're adults compared to how we looked at things when we were kids.

The other night I went to a school function with my mom. She teaches the sixth grade and it was the graduation party. I had the opportunity to meet these extraordinary kids earlier this year so being there to celebrate with them was a honor.

The ceremony ended and we all made our way to the court yard for the dinner. As we waited in line, one little kid (5 years old maybe 6) was running around and fell. She immediately cried and looked for anyone who had seen her fall to come to her rescue. Her mother came and picked her up. She gave her a hug and wiped away her tears.

"poor boo" I thought

We finally got our food after waiting in line for seemed like forever (but was most likely 20 minutes.) It was very crowded and seating for dinner was limited. We decided to stay outside rather then try to get seats in the dinner hall.

As We made our way through a huge crowd of people to find a seat, I was impressed with my ability to keep my food on my plate. I was also equally impressed that I didn't get an elbow to the chest or have someone swing their bag over their shoulder and knock into me.

I guess I spoke/thought too soon. Because as we walked around a corner and found a bench that was pretty secluded; I steeped forward and the ground felt a little slippery. I slipped a little but i caught myself, "whoopsies that was a close one" I thought but then I slipped a little more, then I wobbled then I stumbled then my legs were all crooked in each other and before I could even understand what was happening I was on my face on the floor with dinner tossed all around me.

Juuuuuusssssst Great.

So there I was, on the ground. Much like that little girl I had just seen. But instead of looking around hoping someone had seen me, I was looking around praying to God that NOBODY had seen me.

A very concerned man ran up to me "My goodness! Are you okay?" he asked as he lifted me by the arm up off of the floor, I thought for a moment...

Physically? Yes.

As I dusted myself off I looked to my right; much to my horror I had fallen right in front of a bench full of people eating their dinner. All of whom had these looks on their faces like I was drunk or like I was some kind of idiot.

Yes, physically I am fine, but my ego? Not so much.

He asked if I was hurt or if I needed anything. I thought for a moment. Let's see do I need anything? Hmmm, how about a getaway car? So me and my shamed ego can get out of this place before I will be known as "that girl who fell" for the rest of the night.

"no thank you I am fine"

After I cleaned up my mess from all the food I had dropped on the floor, I went and got a new plate. The guy serving food looked at me like I was some kind of piggy for getting what appeared to be seconds after only ten minutes. But I explained that no, I am not a piggy just clumsy. I was not there for "seconds" of food but "replacement of food". But I don't think he believed me.

What is more shameful, being "that girl who fell"? Or being "that girl who eats all the food"?

It's a toss up if you ask me.

Finally, I was able to sit down and have dinner. But I made sure to choose a bench no wear near the incident site. I saw the man who helped me get up off of the floor and he asked me how I was doing.

"Fine thanks"

And I still am. I do have a goose egg on my knee and my ankle is a bit bruised ( as was ego) but I think I will survive.

FacePalm

2009-05-28T16:54:00.000-07:00

My apologies for disappearing for three hundred years. While working is wonderful and provides much needed funds it does not always provide ample blogging time.

On Sunday we went to the in-laws for a memorial day BBQ. My nephews, Sam (6) and Davis (4) were there. They somehow managed to get a 2 litter bottle of 7up open and drank almost the entire thing before anybody noticed. Needless to say they were completely bonkers for the whole night. Sam was jumping on the couch shouting "cash is king! cash is king!" and laughing hysterically While Davis just kind of sat down. He was not jumping so much as he was pretty much cross-eyed and loopy. It was as if he was really stoned.

These boys will always be very near and dear to my heart as they both learned to say F**k by the age of two. Judge if you will, but hearing a tiny little voice drop an f-bomb is one of the funniest things I have ever experienced.

After the nephews had sugar crashed and were sleeping on the couch. We sat around the table talking. It was typical boring grown up talk about the usual stuff, mortgages, summer vacations (Hawaii for us Whoop! Whoop!), school fund raisers, plans for fathers day and that the world is ending in 2012 so don't buy Christmas gifts.

Wait what was that last part?

Oh right, according to my mother in law in 2012 we are all gonna die so save your money. No need to buy a tree or gifts, the planets are colliding and it's all ending. Armageddon will finally arrive. It's not a rumor. It's true!

She said it all calmly and very matter of fact. Like "I would love a glass of wine"

I am up to speed on the theories of 12/12/12. And dropped my two cents that it's a "theory" that yes the myan calander ends on that date but that there is no proof that all plants will collide and the world will end. I also said that it is most likely on par with the whole Y2K panic. She disagreed, said she saw the whole special on the discovery chanel and that wheather I like it or not the world is ending.

Hence the title of the post.

Doof

2009-05-05T16:25:00.000-07:00

I have a freakish talent that I was blessed with upon birth. I am not sure where or whom I get it from. It's not a cool x-men mutant talent like throwing fire or creating a snow storm by looking at the sky. It's more on the lame side. What is my hidden talent you ask? The ability to embarrass myself almost daily.

I was at the market yesterday. As I was standing in a really long line to pay for my stuff I started zoning out, which is usual for me when I am standing in line. My deep spacing out train of thought-thinking went something like this: I need to mail my grandmas mothers day card, these pants are too long I should hem them, they make my ankles itchy, who believes those silly papers "Oprah given 3 months to live" Does anyone think that shit is real? How many weight watcher points are these cookies? How bad would it be if I ate them for dinner? Through my deep thinking haze I heard this muffled voice Charlie brown like talking…

"Mmm camhesuzyrecar?"

Then I heard it again.

“Ma’am?”

The cashier was talking to me.

“What? I’m sorry? I was zoning” I said

She looked at me and asked again “Ma’am can he use your card?” and pointed to the gentlemen in front of me.

“No, he can’t I’m overdrawn in my checking. That’s why I have cash”

They both just looked at me blankly.

“But I’ll be getting my EDD check tomorrow so I will be fine.”

More blank stares.

“I’m not overdrawn much. Just a pinch. But I have cash to pay for this stuff so it’s okay.”

The cashier and the man exchanged glances. Then she said a little slowly,

“No, ma’am your club card -- for the discount? Not your bank card”

“Ohhhhh, can he use my club card? Got it, sure here you go!” I tried to laugh it off.

Great, I just divulged my sob story banking situation to total strangers cause I’m awesome like that. My ears got really hot. Did anyone behind me hear what I said?

I gave the cashier my club card. She just kind of looked at me like I was a complete idiot.

The man couldn't stop laughing at me. As he grabbed his bags of groceries he thanked me for letting him use my CLUB card and walked away. Still laughing.

It was my turn now. I didn’t even want to look at her. I paid for my stuff- in cash- and practically ran out to door.

You Sexy Thing

2009-04-25T12:12:00.000-07:00

My friend Linda has presented me with the Sexy Blogger Award. I am honored. I don't usually get awards. So this is all very exciting.

The way to accept the award is to write 5 things about myself that are "sexy". I don't usually put me and sexy in the same sentence so it was very hard to think of what is sexy about me. I have thought for a while and I think that I have come up with some things that are very sexy indeed.

#1. I'm an Animal Lover. I truly and deeply care about their well being and do all I can to help them. I do charity walks, I donate to the ASPCA. I even brush them at the zoo so the can look as pretty as can be. Even goats need a stylist.

#2 I'm thrifty. My husband and I love to go out. But its far too expensive. So we have what I like to call "club Matty and Bananas". This is our very own version of going out to a hip and trendy bar but we stay home. It all takes place in our kitchen and living room. We plug in our twinkle lights, light some candles,put on some cool music and drink home made cocktails. What is so great about club Matty and Bananas? Well for starters, it's named after me,there is never a cover charge, there's no wait for a seat at the bar,there's always plenty of parking and the drinks are free! Matty makes the best dirty-vodka martini ever!

#3 I love to cook. I'm really good at it. I can make anything from pies (from scratch of course) to a thanksgiving turkey. I read recipes from gourmet magazine, bon apatite and food network.com. But I never follow the recipe exactly. I like to add my own touch to it. I usually find that when I put my own spin on something it's much better. Here I am a while back making a beef stew that called for beef stalk broth as it's base but I used a just little stalk and a Guinness beer instead. It was tasty.

#4. I'm goofy. I have no fears of beings silly or of what people might think of me if I am caught acting like a total spaz. It's fun and freeing to do "The Robot" at a party, to sing as loudly as I want when I'm driving in my car and to pretend I am chugging syrup in an homage to 'Elf" while shopping for groceries. I embrace my inner silly. And it feels good!
#5. I'm Crafty. I have been making jewelry for myself for a few years. I was inspired to do so because grew tired of seeing these beautiful pieces in magazines and at boutiques for insane amounts of money. I once saw a necklace in a store that was $85 dollars. I went to a bead store and made it myself for $10. The necklace bellow is my own creation. I think it cost me about $5 to make it. I like it. It's one of the nicer ones I have made in my collection.

Well there you have it. My sexy list. I would like to pass this award onto some fellow bloggers that I think are very deserving of this award. They are in no particular order...

NGS. She goes running. In the MORNING! If that's not deserving of an award I don't know what is.

Mel. She's just so funny. And has the best jet setting adventures.

Wow. He's a fellow cubs fan. Nuff said

kimberlybuggie. She's crafty too. And has an adorable bunny.

Thoughtcicles. maybe an award will encourage her to post more.

Tracy Samantha. Same deal. More posts please.

Pet Peeves

2009-04-24T12:17:00.000-07:00

So it's earth week. And everybody is in this honeymoon phase of taking care of the planet. Everyone right now is all about energy efficient utilities, conserving water, recycling, reusable bags, bring a travel mug to Starbucks instead of getting the paper cup. Etc etc etc.

And I think that's wonderful. Finally people are doing what they should have been ages ago.

But what bothers me is that it's not going to last. Cause right now, being green is like shopping at Kitson. It's cool and it's hip and it makes you look like this really awesome person because you're doing what Lindsay and Paris are doing. But eventually people will go back into their old ways and stop caring. Most people are not going to stick it out for the long haul.

They will stop putting the veggies in the compost and they won't remember to put their reusable bags in their car when they go to the store. They will stop putting everything that they can into the recycle bin. And they will drift back into their old ways. Taking care of the environment will become an after thought or an "oh yeah I should do that". It will no longer be the hip cool thing to do it will just become a burden. And most people are too lazy and selfish to take the time to care.

And that makes me sad.

If people can care so much for one week, why not care for just 51 more? Can you imagine what a difference we would see if we were as passionate as we are this week for the rest of the year?

I was driving behind this lady in a big SUV. We were at a stop light and she tossed a banana peal out her window onto the street. Now granted it’s biodegradable but I was still tempted to get out of my car and hand it back to her. She couldn’t have waited until she got to where she was going to throw it in a trash bin? Hooker!

Mel wrote this really great post. She listed things people can do to help keep the planet green. Please give it a read and see what you can do on there. I would like to add one thing to it and that is to please cut up your soda pack rings. They get washed out into to ocean and get caught on fish and other wildlife causing them to die. They get caught in fish gills and around bird’s wings. It’s pretty terrible. So please cut them up before you toss them out. Easy as pie to do it.

I was raised by hippies. My dad worked at the zoo as an environment and animal preservation educator. I have been on the green wagon since I was 11. I guess it’s very naive of me to not understand how people can’t change their ways. Being raised to care, it comes naturally to me to make any kind of adjustment in my life to better the planet.

Because if you think about it, we are here cause earth lets us be here. If we hurt her body or mess up her ozone, we will no longer have a place here. We will get das boot. It’s a simple as that.

We now return you to 2009 already in progress

2009-04-19T20:07:00.000-07:00

I am not sure what happened. Everything appears to be normal. Nothing seems different. But, I must have at some point this week slipped and fell into a time warp. However, I think I would remember that. And I have no recollection of that. But I must have fallen into a time warp because; I saw a few things this past week that have no place in the year 2009. No place at all! So the only explanation is the time warp theory.

For starters, I had dinner with Matty on Thursday night. We were walking around town afterwards having a pinkberry and right there in the window of Urban Outfitters were a pair of Acid Washed Jeans, with, wait for it... darts. I quote Whitney Houston when she said " oh hell to the hell to the HELL to the no!" I rubbed my eyes and shook my head from side to side like they do in the movies. Clearly I hallucinated. I opened my eyes and much to my horror they were really there. Acid. Washed. Denim. With darts.

I will give you a moment to be sick if you need one. I think I might actually.

Do you feel better? So do I.

As I was saying, Acid washed denim is just a huge no no. Who thinks that jeans like that are appropriate? (Besides stupid teenagers born in the 90’s) They never look clean for one. They are ugly, wrong, unflattering and just messy. And the other, THEY’RE FREAKING ACID WASHED.

It’s one of those things from the past that should stay where it is, in the past. It’s a fashion mistake. It’s a big Whoopsie Daisies, our bad, shouldn’t have made those. Like hyper color tee shirts and members only jackets and bellbottoms. But ain't nobody bringing those back, at least not yet. But who knows. After what I saw this week anything is possible. Oh dear God, no bellbottoms. Please.

I admit that I wore an acid washed jacket with great confidence. I had an acid washed denim tote bag that was dyed turquoise. I also had a pair of Guess acid washed jeans that I wore with my pink day glow tank top and my hair in one big ponytail at the side of my head. What can I say? It was high fashion. But it was the eighties. I was also like nine or ten and reading teen beat magazine and drooling over this actor who I will not name. I have already embarrassed myself enough in my admitting to wearing day glow.

Then Saturday night I had dinner with my aunt and the guy at the table next to us had a mullet. Not a Billy Ray Cyrus one, more like a late seventies early eighties mullet. He was putting the moves on his lady friend. He had this air about him like “oooohh yeah, I got it. My hair is sexy. Chicks dig it like they dig my Thunderbird” Uncle Rico seriously? You’re not fooling anyone with that hair. Mullets are so tragic. It’s as if they are the little haircut that could. Nobody is willing to give up on them. But they just never work. Not even for George Clooney on Facts of life. And he’s gorgeous!

Then on Sunday I went to Starbucks for a latte and there were these teenage girls (13 or 14 tops) there wearing day glow hoodies and matchstick acid washed jeans and high-tops. I wanted to sit them down and be like “Oh honey, this is Los Angeles circa 2009 not Brooklyn circa 1983. You must get to a j crew or a banana or an H&M or Target this minute. A Ross even! Here’s an Instyle and a Glamour for ideas.”

Gosh this post is making me sound like a total snob. I’m not at all. I just don’t understand the choices people make with hair and clothes. There’s so much out there that’s nice and hip and looks good. Why pick what’s fugly?

It’s all relative I suppose. I am sure some of my fashion choices are not the coolest but at least I try to look nice. I have fun with my clothes. I take risks. And I think that a lot of my choices are good ones. But who knows, maybe in ten years I will look at pictures of myself wearing trouser cut jeans with ballet flats and say “dear lord what was I thinking?”

Still though, it won’t be nearly as bad as acid washed and mullets and day glow.

As I walked home with latte in hand I was beginning to think that I had indeed slipped into a time warp. When got home I checked the paper just to be sure. Yep, still 2009. Phewww.

Surgery Adventures

2009-04-14T14:14:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday I had a glomus tumor (Big scary word for something very small) removed from my left pinky finger nail bed. It's a super tiny growth that can be very painful to the touch and sensitive to temperature changes.

Mine hurt a lot. If I were to even lightly bump my finger on something I wanted to scream. It was just the worst kind of hot bursting pain.

I had it for about nine years but never thought of removing it. For one, I didn't think it was a possibility and two, I haven't had health insurance. But now that I have some pretty kick ass coverage, I took advantage of it and went for it. I met with this really great orthopedic surgeon who gave me hope that my finger could be fixed. We decided to get it removed.

My Doctor informed me that it was a very simple out-patient procedure. He said that they were going to have to remove the nail and then pull back the nail bed by cutting the skin around my cuticle to get to it. (Are you grossed out yet?) It would take a little under an hour to remove it and I would only be in recovery for about an hour as I was not going to be under general anesthesia. I was going to be put under in what they call a "twilight" state, which is an unconscious sleep like state but able to respond to questions, though you will still have no memory of anything.

After my appointment I went to lunch with my aunt. We were joking around about how, wouldn't it be funny if people just started spilling all their deepest darkest secrets while under the mild anesthesia? Saying things like “I live in the united states illegally!" or “I’m actually gay!" or “I said I voted for Obama but really I voted for Nader!" My favorite we came up with was “I rob banks!"

The day of the surgery arrived and I was a total nervous mess. The only other time I have had surgery was getting my wisdom teeth pulled when I was sixteen. That was ages ago. Incase you hadn’t caught on from my previous post , I have since turned into a big baby when it comes to stuff with doctors and my health. Not that I am a hypochondriac, I just worry far too much for my own good.

I was wheeled into the surgery room at ten of eight. They gave me the warm fuzzy potion and a snuggly blanket. And then just like that I was being wheeled into recovery. A nurse came to give me something (a pillow? I can’t remember) and she asked how I was doing.

“I’m on valium . I’m great”

I was thinking of what my aunt and I had talked about at lunch and giggling at the thought of saying “I rob banks!” I started laughing. “Yep. I do. I rob banks.”

The nurse said “I hope not”

Wait... You hope not what?

And then I realized I was saying all this stuff out loud. Like REALLY saying it out loud. That woke me up right away. “Oh crap” I thought. What else have I been saying?

I explained to my nurse that I don't rob banks and why it was so funny to me. She laughed a little too. She said no, people don’t start spilling secrets when they come out of anesthesia, though it would make her job a lot more interesting if they did. I asked if I had said anything else. She said I just asked if I was finished and I asked for in-n-out.

I did? What the hell? In-n-out did sound good, but I asked for it? What? I have no recollection of this, none. She could have been lying for all I know.

I always seem to find a great time to embarrass myself.

I think I am healing nicely. It’s a little sore. But I should be fine. I still have a bandage on my finger that looks much like a finger puppet. So I turned it into an Easter bunny for the holiday. Though turning it into a bag of money or a little bandit would have been much more fitting.

Should be...

2009-04-06T14:06:00.001-07:00

I really really need to put away my laundry. If I don't the clothes I just washed will get all wrinkled. Thus negating the whole act of doing laundry in the first place.

I also really need to do the dishes. I am a firm believer in the idea that a sink is meant to hold dirty dishes. But not when said dirty dishes includes the broiler pan that I used to make Salmon on two nights ago.

I should finish my chores...but I just don't want to. Phooey.

A stinky fish pan and a mountain of fresh out of the dryer clothes calls. Too bad they can't just leave a message.

Uggghhhh. Housework.

Cute

2009-04-01T16:26:00.000-07:00

I occasionally sit for this very nice family. They moved here from England about two years ago. They have two boys Miles (7) and Milo (3). Good fun ages.

I sat with them last night.

They love all things Marvel and told me all about their favorite characters. I am all up to speed on my Batman and Spider Man trivia. They also love to draw. They taught me some drawing tricks last night too. I know how to draw an alien fishy and an airplane now.

After our Marvel cram session and alien fishy art class we were watching an X-man cartoon and eating edamame. Miles was telling me about how they go to Europe every summer to see their grandparents.

The conversation went like this...

Me : "So are you going this summer?"

Miles : "No. Not this year"

Me: "Are you going anyplace special instead?"

Milo : " Yeah, we're going to Denny's"

E.K.Gee whiz

2009-03-26T10:59:00.000-07:00

In November my temp job with Lenny ended. That honestly was a blessing in disguise because that place was incredibly dysfunctional. I have taken a few temp jobs here and there when I can get them. But nothing lasts longer than a week or two. And now it seems that there isn't even the occasional temp job because the market is so incredibly saturated.

I will admit to being a worry wart but I am not one to get hair falling out stressed. So last Friday when I felt this hard pounding in my chest accompanied with these flutters, I got really scared.

They started when I was driving. I worried I was having a heart attack and that I would at any moment lose consciousness and crash into the guard rail and fall to my death on the ground below crushing a nice old lady walking her dog.

It would be all over the news. "Nice old lady and worlds cutest puppy crushed by a falling car driven by an unemployed stress case who had a heart attack while driving tonight at 7"

I was not, in fact having a heart attack. I was having Heart Palpitations or PVC's. They are a very common symptom of stress and anxiety. But I of course went to the dark side. The dark side being, worst case scenario thinking (as written above), morbidly checking webmd for symptoms of heart disease and picturing the doctors telling me things like "If you weren't in such bad shape you might be okay, tisk tisk too bad you're going to die"

After too much googling and webmd-ing (and a phone call to mom)I was positive it was stress. But I was worried that it might be something else so I wanted to get checked out for sure. Just to be super safe.

I went to the doctor today. I talked to him and told him my symptoms and my situation. And he told me that yes, what's happening is from stress and that I need to do whatever I can to keep myself busy. Take a yoga class, avoid caffeine, go for walks, and/or take an art class. Talking to him was like a warm blanket. He patted my shoulder and said he understands how hard things are, that I am going to be fine and the economy will get better. It was like verbal snuggles.

But then he said, “Just to be safe let’s do an EKG”

EK-wha?

No no no no no. That’s like something 50+ year old men do in movies and it usually has some kind of bad ending where they are laying in a crappy hospital bed and their wife is crying. Nope. No thanks. I’m not a fifty plus year old man. I’m a cute just turned 30 year old woman. I’m a spring chicken!

They did one anyway.

The man doing it asked if I had kids. I asked “Is that why most people need theses things?”

He smiled and then he said “Take off your top”

Wait. Who? What?

If I had known I would be taking my top off I would have worn a cuter bra. But no, I was tired and put on my crappy was once white but is now a shade of grey cotton bra from target.

Awesome. This is totally embarrassing.

Then he had me roll up my jeans. Even better! I have not waxed in about a month. I know totally gross, but it has been so cold who needs to?

Great, so now I am the girl with a dirty bra and hairy legs.

He put these little pulse readers all over my body and I lay on the table as he pushed some buttons. A minute later a piece of paper with my results printed out that read “This patient worries too much”

He told me my results were excellent and that my heart is in prefect health. Phhhewww.

I already feel much better. I think just talking to my doctor about what has been bothering me and hearing him say “you’re healthy” took a lot of my stress away. I think I will take him up on the advice of a yoga class or an art class. That might be good. And good blog fodder.

**insert sigh of relief**

And P.S, if you are going to have an EKG, save yourself the embarrassment. Wear a cute bra and shave your legs. Just a friendly blogger tip from me to you.

:)

Rollerblading Sumo Wrestlers

2009-03-22T13:55:00.000-07:00

We live in a two story building. Our unit is below this tiny old man. He's very sweet. I think he works for the EPA or something. He's always doing things to take care of his plants and to recycle. He puts up notices in the laundry room about household products that are better for the environment and leaves petitions for people to sign that encourage our local government to do more to protect the water and air. He drives a hybrid.

He's very quite. He avoids small talk. When I pass by him in the parking lot or see him by the trash bins, he doesn't say "hello" he says "greetings". He sits in our buildings court yard everyday and drinks beer while he reads a book. It's a new one everyday. Yesterday it was Harry Potter.

I am not sure what he does inside his apartment though. Outside he is so quiet, but inside, inside he is the loudest person. It sounds like hes dropping bowling balls or large piles of chain link onto his floor. Or that he has a terrible balance problem and falls down all the time. Because everyday I hear these loud sounds.

THUD, BOOOM, DROP, BANG, CRASH!

I have no idea what is going on up there. But Matty and I decided that it's one of three things.

One: He has no furniture and because he has such a huge hard wood floor apartment, hes turned into a roller rink (as anyone who has a hardwood floor living space should). And he invites over all his sumo wrestler friends to skate. They are not very good at skating so they fall down a lot. Hence the loud thuds that sometimes rattle our windows a little.

Two: He is an aspiring stilt walker. Being so tiny I am sure he has dreams of being tall like Michale Jordan or some other tall person he admires. That would account for the thumps we hear that sound like he's fallen off of something followed by his bouts of swearing. He's probably pissed he fell of his stilts.

Three: He's a lover of the old loney toons cartoons. So he collects anvils. His closet is full of them. He goes to an anvil convention every august out in the Midwest somewhere and gets a new one every year. He's got about sixty now. He has so many that when he opens his closet to put another one in or to look at one of the many he has, they all fall out onto the floor. This would account for the banging thudding crashing rumbling sounds that shake my ceiling.

Or it's just him being alone and making noises. I am not sure what the actual reason is. I am sure it's none of the above. However it would just be so awesome if he really did have sumo wrestlers over to roller skate. The funny thing is, I doubt he has any idea that we have come up with these theories because he is totally unaware of his sounds. If he was aware I doubt they would happen.

The same can be said for anyone who lives in a building. We are totally unaware of how much noise we make. I feel like Matty and I are pretty quiet. But who knows, maybe one of our neighbors has theories about us. The crazy young couple on the ground floor.

Any theories about your neighbors?

Hello, Lover

2009-03-15T14:52:00.000-07:00

Last night. It happened.

The moment I have been dreaming of since my first purchase of a Vogue magazine when I was fifteen, since my first taste of high fashion while I studied a semester in Italy.

Last night, I got my very first pair of Manolo Blahniks. It's all a blur and I find the feeling of excitement on par to what I imagine winning an Academy Award feels like. Sure mock me if you will that they are "just shoes". But oh no my friends, they are not just shoes. They are Manolo freaking Blahniks.

Let me tell you how they came to be mine.

Matty and I went with my mom to her schools fund raiser last night as her plus two. We go with her every year and it's a great time. The food and company was, as always fabulous. There was a silent auction from 6-8:15. There are always the most amazing things to bid on. Trips, concert tickets, handbags, hand made jewelry, clothes, wine, and ipods. It's pretty high end stuff.

Usually we bid on a few things for fun. But we never get them. We always get out bid by someone with more money at the last minute. But it’s okay because its money for the school. And the items are out of our price range anyway. And there hasn't been anything that we must must have.

Last night was different. We walked in a little after 6:00 and there they were. Black Patent Leather Mary Jane's sitting perfectly on the end of the bidding table. Shiny. Black. My size. Perfect. My heart raced when I saw them. I felt like Wayne in "Wayne’s World" when he sees the guitar he wants. "They will be mine. Oh yes, they will be mine."

They are a $700 pair of shoes and the starting bid was $150. When would I ever get a chance like that again? I was at first very hesitant to bid. I convinced myself that they would not look good on me, that they wouldn't fit becasue of my wide feet and that it was not practical to buy them. But silly me, I tried them on and they fit me so well. Sliding my foot in was like sliding a hot knife through butter.

Having them on made me brake out into a sweat. I was in love. And it was all over after that. I wanted those shoes and was prepared to outbid everybody. Those shoes meant business and so did I.

I put my bidding Id number down next to the opening bid of 150. And I stood by them for two hours ready to jump in if someone were to outbid me. Several women walked by and tried the shoes on but they took them off shaking their heads because the shoes didn’t fit them.

It was like I was Cinderella and the Manolo's were my glass slippers. They only fit me.

I was trying not to be completely crass by standing guard over the shoes and I was doing my best to not mad dog every female that walked over to them. I figured the best way to win was to do two things...

1. Set my limit of how much I would bid ($250. keep in mind these are 700 shoes)

And

2. Become friends with every person who wanted to bid on the shoes. That way they would want me to have the shoes too.

After that, if those things didn’t work I would understand that they were not meant to be mine. And I felt okay with it because I knew (and I still know) that more Manolo's are in my future.

The evening went by pretty fast and just like that, it was the last two minutes of the silent auction. My hands were shaking. Anything can happen at the last minute. They were almost mine.

There was an announcement over the speakers that the Silent auction was closing.

The woman in charge of the auction came over to the shoes and held one up. She asked the crowd if anyone was interested. Nobody came over.

One minute to go.

Hands shaking. Can’t breath.

“Are you sure? 30 seconds. Nobody? Theses are really nice shoes” she said.

Going once…going twice…

Sold to me for $150.00!

“Congratulations, you won the pair of Manolo's.”

Wahooooooooooooooooooo!

Some people even applauded for me. I guess I was not the most discreet in my lust for the shoes.

I am not sure if it was my puppy dog “please don’t out bid me on the shoes” eyes or the fact that they really didn’t fit anybody or that I had some people helping me guard the shoes or that maybe I was really the only person who wanted them bad enough to cat fight. But I somehow didn’t get outbid.

A woman asked me as I was leaving at the end of the night, what I could do in a pair of shoes like that. I told her, in a pair of shoes like that, I could do anything from cooking dinner to fighting crime.

So there it is. The story of how I came to own my very first pair of Manolo Blahniks.

And we lived happily ever after.

MAC Counter Adventure

2009-03-12T17:12:00.001-07:00

I love makeup. It's like finger paint, but for your face.

Occasionally I like to brows the make up counters at the mall and play with all of the colors. Deep purple powder for the eyes here, shimmery pink gloss for the lips there, super sexy lashes mascara somewhere else and finish off with some kind of crazy expensive face cream designed to make me look ten years of age with the faintest golden glimmer resembling that of an Egyptian goddess.

It's playtime and make believe just like when I was a kid. But now I am an adult. And instead of pretending I am Malibu Beach Barbie, I pretend I am me, but a supermodel.

I got to the mall today feeling good. I was having a good hair day AND a good outfit day. It was the perfect combination for some makeup playtime. I stopped by benefit, smashbox (my personal favorite), and clinique. The last place I decided to stop at was the MAC counter.

Ohhhh. MAC counter. How I love you.

I love the MAC counter because there is so much to choose from. They have so many amazing and beautiful colors. Most of which I could never and should never wear, but I tried some of them on anyway. Because it was playtime. So who cares?

Now as much as I love the MAC counter, I sometimes loath the MAC counter. I would say almost everytime I go I get totally ignored by the people who work there. I guess I don't get too botherd by it becasue I still go back. But today was a little out of hand.

If I didn't fricken love their nail polish and lip glosses so much I would totally break up with them after today.

I found some nail polish I really liked and I waited for what seemed to be 15 minutes to get help at the register. There were two people working. They saw me waiting but they just continued their conversation and COMPLETELY ignored me.

Finally someone came to the register and he rang me up. And then he had the nerve to say "Can I interest you in our face cream? It would really help those dark circles under your eyes."

"You dick." I wanted to say but didn't.

Seriously?!?! WTF?

Do they have a cream for manners?

Ode To Coffee

2009-02-26T11:11:00.000-08:00

Coffee you are the best treat ever.
Have you without half n half? I’d never.

You pick me up when I am feeling slumpy
But if I have too much of you I feel jumpy.

You’re best when you are whole bean and freshly roasted,
ground up and brewed on the spot
to have with my bread that I have lightly toasted.

I pour you into my ceramic mug imported from Japan
and watch as I

pour

cream

in,

how you turn color from dark brown to tan.

I sip you as I listen to KCRW and read the post.
It’s a part of the day that I love the most.

Oh coffee how you are such a prize, a gem, a jewel.
A gift to man kind, An icon with that guy and his mule.

There’s no contest between tea and you.
If you weren’t around I don’t know what I would do!

Coffee how I adore you so,
My favorite drink,
My java,
My Cup a Joe.

What it all means

2009-02-23T17:13:00.000-08:00

I read this book last night. It's called "The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane" It's a Children's Novel. And it is probably the best book I have read in a very long time. It was haunting, beautiful, sad, wonderful and intriguing all at the same time.

There is this line from the book. It's said at the end of the story and it really resonated with me. The line is, "If you have no intention of loving or being loved, then the whole journey is pointless"

I am not even sure what it is exactly about this line that I like so much, or what it is about it that speaks to me so deeply. But it does. I read the line again and again. And each time the words just sunk into me deeper and deeper.

"If you have no intention of loving or being loved, then the whole journey is pointless."

I have no problems loving. But I sadly know people who do. And I know people who don't want to be loved. There are all these walls around them and nobody is ever allowed in. I just find it heartbreaking that they put themselves in this deliberate isolation. I think it's unfortunate to never want to feel or give love to a family member, or a friend or a pet or a significant other.

Love can make you feel better when you are sick, make you feel put together when you're falling apart, make you smile when you have been crying. But in turn it can also be the reason you are sick, crying and/or falling apart.

Either way, what a terrible thing to deprive yourself of.

I completely understand the need to protect your heart. It is a very fragile part of the body and soul. And once broken it's almost impossible to believe that it will ever beat the same again.

But just as it can break from loosing love, it can break from never allowing yourself to love.

Love is a powerful emotion. It's part of life, its part of the adventure and those things; life, love and adventures, are meant to be shared. Love truly is all part of the journey. And with out it, the journey really is pointless.

school for bananas

2009-02-17T16:38:00.000-08:00

Lately I have been substitute teaching elementary school. It's fun and very strange all at the same time. I say strange because I always think of teachers as "grown ups" and I hardly feel like one. Does one ever?

I remember when I was very little and being in school. I thought that my teachers were these odd beings who didn't have homes because they lived at the school and they didn't watch TV because they read stories instead and all they ate were apples.

I got a little older and I figured out that none of what I had previously thought was true. But teachers still didn't seem like real people to me though. I always wanted to know more about them. Where did they live? What shows did they watch? Did they like the same bands as me? Where did they go to school? I was fascinated.

Now that I am teaching I totally get that my teachers were no different than anybody. They were not some special person. Or some kind of extraordinary being. Because that's not what I am. I am just a regular person. I hang out in the faculty lounge and talk about LOST or whatever with other teachers, I come home and play on facebook or iTunes, I read gossip sites (occasionally), I post blogs. I make dinner and hang out with my husband. Standard stuff.

Probably all the same stuff all my teachers did.

Now I have kids wanting to know about me. Now I have kids asking me all the questions I asked my teachers. Where do you live? What's your husbands name? Do you like movies? What's your favorite ice cream?

And it just made me laugh a little. How it's all come full circle. Me wanting to know about my teachers and now students wanting to know about me.

Spinsters vs. The Ball and Chains

2009-02-16T12:31:00.000-08:00

I feel as though there’s this misunderstanding among single people with married people. In fact I know that there is.

When I was single I was very irritated with couples. When my sister began dating the man who is now her husband, I felt that all she wanted to do was be with him and had no interest in doing things without him. I was so frustrated with her. I remember thinking how silly it was for one to want to be with their boyfriend all the time and I swore that I would never be that way. But then I began dating my future husband. And I understood everything. Because I found that feeling. That feeling of wanting to be with someone constantly, hating moments that we were apart and hating going anyplace without him.

I didn’t abandon my friends though. I still made an effort. I didn’t abandon making plans with them or wanting to hang out with them. But in a way, it seems they abandoned me. Slowly over time the invitations to girls nights faded, the last minute calls to go get breakfast ended and there were no more days of going for coffee to catch up.

I doubt I made it seem like I no longer needed them or that I no longer wanted to spend time together. But for some reason, that seems to be the message that was received. And no matter how hard I try to spend time with my single friends, we never do. And it gets blamed on me. I am married so obviously I am the flake.

There is this huge misconception among people that are not in a relationship that married people have no need for friends. That married people are flaky, that we are old and boring. That the second a couple says " I Do" all fun goes out the window.

But that’s not true.

Married people are still people. We have fun. We're not boring. We are not some kind of freakish cult that hates the singles. We don’t have his and hers mugs, cars or towels. And we don’t feel like people without significant others are to be felt sorry for like they have some horrible disease. It’s not like when we get invited places we tell whoever that’s asked to hold on a sec while we check with the spouse. And we are not at all like the way Bridget Jones depicts married couples either. And yet, it's how married people are viewed from the eyes of most people that are single.

But I am a married person. And I am awesome. My husband is awesome too. And together we are a very cool married couple. We love our single friends. Even though at times it seems they don’t love us.

Maybe their irritation matches their envy. Maybe they loathe us but at the same time they want what they loathe too? Maybe they are just like me with my sister before I understood. Maybe they just haven't found it yet?

I hope they will one day understand where I am coming from. And when/if they ever do, I will still be here to be their friend.

Notes To Self Vol 2

2009-02-10T17:19:00.000-08:00

Some tips from me to you that might be of good use, in case you were wondering...

1. Every parent thinks their kid is the cutest. Even if you think that kid is not so cute and kind of a pain in the ass, to the parent that kid is the most wonderful child ever to grace the face of the planet. You are not an asshole if you don't think so too. But, said parents might think you're an asshole if you don't at least act like you agree. With that said, you still don't have to let the pain in the ass not so cute kid give you a kiss when he has a mouth full of ice cream. Nor do you have to let him wipe his hand on your cashmere sweater right after he has stuck it down his poopy diaper. Cute or not that is just grossly inappropriate.

2. Glass breaks. Hair grows. It's all good.

3. If someone dumps half a bag of flour on your car because you unknowingly parked in their parking place, you have full permission to find out who that someone is that did it, and curse them with a yeast infection or very itchy gums.

4. Brownies and Valentines Day Candy and all of their affiliates, are not and will not ever be, a core food at weight watchers. So do not continue to eat them as if they were so.

5. It's not just you, that lady who works at Starbucks is grumpy.

6. A glass of wine really will make everything better. That or looking at pictures of Puppies.

7. When your younger brother in law says he's coming over, use the time between the end of the phone call and his arrival to hide your good coffee and half-n-half. Because if you don't it will be all gone by the time he leaves your house. Regardless of whether or not you just bought it or if you're low it will be ALL GONE. His vocabulary lacks the words ration and measure.

That's all for today. Class dismissed.

Dear Great Indoors,

2009-01-14T16:16:00.000-08:00

I am writing this letter to let you know that I think you suck.

When I read on craigslist that you were having a job fair today I was a little hesitant to attend. In all honesty I am way over qualified to work for you. But, being in a place where I cannot afford to turn down any work, I swallowed my pride and decided to attend your "job fair". Now between you and I, I use the term "job fair" loosely because clearly, and lets be honest, there was no job fair to be had.

From what I saw it was just a cattle call for people to fill out job applications. For all I know it was some hidden camera show for 20/20 to show the desperation for jobs in today’s economy.

There wasn’t even an HR rep present to talk to anyone. You just had a pile of applications for people to take and fill out. And since there was no actual meeting of any applicants with anyone in HR, I am sure that my application will sit in a pile on your desk and never even get looked at. I might as well have said "here, you throw this away" to your assistant who was placing finished applications in a box for “review”.

I understand the need to fill out an application. It has to be done. But you know all those people there( myself included) got dressed in their Sunday bests and made the trip to your location and you wouldn't even take five minutes to meet anybody. Not even a quick "Thanks for stopping by. We'll be in touch"

That takes real class.

Another thing I don’t understand is the personality test you wanted every applicant to take as well. Now, pardon my French but you can take that “personality test” and f#$% off. Seriously. Who do you think you are? You don't even have any people skills and you want me to take a personality test?

What does the validity of whether or not I prefer chicken to fish have anything to do with my ability to help someone pick out bath tile? And another thing, how on earth do you expect to find a decent applicant based on answers to a personality test that was probably devised by some old man in a barn who eats mayonnaise sandwiches and listens to Fox News all day.

Shame on you.

It has to be said, having been on a few job interviews in my time that the pseudo interview I had with you today was one of the worst I have been on. It was a giant waste of my time.

It was right up there with the interview I went on back in 2004 where a frigid woman basically told me I dressed like a harlot. And yes, it was even as bad as the interview back in 2007 where a prostitute was thrown from a moving car right outside where the interview was taking place. I guess things really do come in threes, including shitty interviews.

Peace Out.

The New Year Post

2009-01-11T12:29:00.001-08:00

So here it is 2009.

I go through phases of setting goals for myself come new year. Sometimes I do it. Other times I don't. I learned a long time ago not to set my expectations too high for a new year’s goal. It's great to set goals but at the same time it is not so great to look back at your goals on Dec 31 and see that not a single one was accomplished.

It is to not fault of my own, I try. But setting a goal like, "I want to own a house in Beachwood canyon by October" is a little far fetched when you're starting out the New Year jobless. Again.

This is the second year I am jobless in January. (That's kinda catchy, would make for a good book title)

I guess I have just come to the realization that I spend too much time doing things I don't like. I spend too much energy just trying to get by rather then spending time living.

Rather than be uber aggressive and harness all my energy into getting what I really want, I.E. a job in scripted television development, or get off my ass and have one of my many screenplays actually made into a short film that I can submit into local film festivals; I take crappy jobs that I don't like. I take these crappy jobs that are in unstable markets with asshole bosses.

It's not that I take these jobs because on a subconscious level I think I am only worth a crappy job with an asshole boss. I just take them because I get this idea in my head that it's all about money. I need to make money to get by, so I take the crappy job because it is easier.

Survival first, dreams later.

But looking back at the last five years, I see that it actually isn't easier. It's harder. It's so hard to do things I don't love. It's so hard to keep getting laid off and then just go right back into the same situation. It's harder to put hopes and dreams on a back burner than it is to have a job that's shit.

So my goal for this year is to do more things I love. And to not be so scared of the possibility of failure.

I will not take a crappy job anymore. This will be the year that I get a great job, doing something that I love. This will be the year that I make one of my short films. This will be the year that I actually attempt to do something.

Cheapskates

2008-12-08T11:44:00.000-08:00

Like some of you already know, I stopped working for Lenny a month ago. And it's been fine cause I have done part time stuff here and there. And I am working at the gallery two days a week. So it's not like I am starving or anything. Though it would be nice to fund my addiction to J- Crew and Banana Republic so I could go all the time like I want to.

But in all seriousness I do need a bit more income. Bills are not just mere "suggestions" to pay. Vendors do in fact want the money they ask for. A funny thing happens when you wait too long to pay the cell phone bill, Sprint turns off your phone. How about that?

Anyway. As I am home today drinking way too many fluid ounces of coffee I figured I would put my caffeine rush to good use and apply for some jobs through craigslist. I have had okay luck with them in the past so I thought I would try again.

I went to the admin section and found this posting for the most outrageous ludicrous job description I have ever read. Whoever wrote it is on crack or suffered a head injury.

At first when I read it, it all sounded standard. They listed the usual requests. You know, stuff like , they want the person applying to be able to work full time with some overtime and weekends, they wanted them to be able to type 60 wpm, be able to do all banking, scheduling of meetings and travel arrangements, be the head assistant to the CEO, and said person MUST have a bachelors degree. Blah balh blah. Sounds fine until I read the pay…

They were only offering $ 9.00 an hour. $9.00? Nine. An hour?

WTF?

Questions...

2008-11-20T09:32:00.001-08:00

I've had these questions in my mind the past few days. I have wondered them before. And still can't think of a reasonable answer that makes sense. So I thought that I would ask here to see if maybe you had an answer.

Why is it that people with the most money have the worst taste? I swear, they buy the ugliest clothes and handbags. Not to mention their big goddey jewelry. And their homes? Don't even get me started on the way the choose to decorate. I am sure that their is some kind of rich person club where forest green granite counter tops, oak flooring with gray tile grout and huge marble fire places are all the rage. But in my opinion it is fugly decor at it's finest.

Do you have to be inordinately out of your mind crazy to be someones boss?

Having just finished my temp job with Lenny. I have been doing little day jobs here and there until I find a permanent position. One job I did this week for a person who owns an art supply store. She needed her quickbooks started and her contacts updated. Easy enough. While she was very nice she did have her moments of being a total nut. For example, when I asked her a question, no matter what it was, her answer was always "Yes. No. Hmmm, well I don't know. Okay yes, well, let me think" Oh-Kay. Her nuttiness is no match for Lenny's. Who's is really? With all my experiences working, I have noticed a trend. All bosses are out of their minds. Be it with their beliefs that employees are to be treated like idiots or that their business thriving depends on how well you stamp an envelope. They are coo coo for cocoa puffs. Certifiably.

Why is it that when I wear a nice new white shirt something happens, something ALWAYS happens for that shirt to get ruined?

And it is only when I am wearing something new and white. Never when I am wearing new black or gray or pink. Only white. And it's always some kind of weird thing too. Like I am asked to carry a box to someones car and mud gets on me. Or someone doesn't see me when they are walking out a door and they bump into me with their coffee. Or whatever. But it's only when I am wearing white.

Why is it that people drive like a-holes?

I don't get it. How is driving like a giant douche going to get them to where they need to go any faster? And the weaving in and out of lanes? My friend wrote about an experience of hers with an a-hole driver. It is so true. I would say I have an encounter like that weekly. Drivers like that so need to be voted off the island.

Where does the time go?

Plain and simple. How is it that Thanksgiving is a week from today? And Christmas is in a month? How?

Speechless

2008-11-05T20:25:00.000-08:00

I tried to write about last night. But I didn’t know where to begin.

I had no words to explain the most beautiful night of my life, the most amazing magical night in my country’s history. I have no words.

I have tears of joy. And an empty bottle of veuve clicquot that we drank warm, because I was too suppositious to put it in the fridge. Didn’t want to jinx it.

And still, a day later. I have no words.

Because there are none.

There are no words to adequately describe or express how if felt to hear the news say the phrase “Barack Obama has won the presidency”

The elation that filled my heart and the hope that filled my soul was something I never thought I would feel in my lifetime.

Finally, finally after all these years, our country will change for the better. Though it will take time, it will change.

Barack Obama won. That’s pretty amazing.

Yes we can. Yes we did.

Makeover

2008-10-06T22:05:00.000-07:00

I decided that after close to two years of the same template it's time for a new one. I am still trying to figure out how to make it even more of my own. How do you add a background to the title of a blog anyway?

I might keep playing around with it. But I dunno. I kinda like the pink.

Any suggestions?

Partly cloudy with a chance of buffoonery

2008-09-30T19:21:00.000-07:00

I am not a meteorologist. And I was not necessarily the best at earth science. But I do however know what my local weather man is talking about when I get the forecast from him at 6:00 AM before I start getting ready for work.

Yesterday while I was on my lunch break it rained. I happened to be outside when it started and I didn't mind a bit. It was so hot outside that it might have been refreshing had the rain not also been equally as hot. It reminded me of hiking in Waimea Valley. As I sat on the brick wall near our office I closed my eyes and pretended I was in Hawaii. When the five minutes of rain dissipated, so had the last few minutes of my break.

A few hours had past. Lenny made his way to my desk to discus my progress on his latest project that he gave me when a client came in to say hello to him. They were chatting about this that and the other. She was talking to him about how strange it was that it had rained. "You know the weather man says 20% chance but how often does it actually happen?" she said.

Then Lenny said the dumbest thing I have ever heard anyone say in my life.

He said...

"Well that really doesn't mean anything. When they say 20% that just means it's going to rain on 20% of the city."

Oh.....My.....God. I would write more but I am actually speechless.

Just another story that makes him my crazy boss Lenny.

New Addition

2008-09-24T19:17:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer...I realize that the title of this post might have people thinking that this might me some kind of homage to the band "new addition". Let me get this out of the way now and clarify that it is not. There will be no other mention of the band except in this disclaimer.

What I mean by new addition is that I have, we have, adopted a new little pal. A beta fish. He comes from my work. Lenny gave him to the old accounting assistant. She moved to New York and upon her departure with the company I not only inherited her position but her fish too. I don't trust that my co-workers would be able to keep him alive so I have taken him home with me.

He is Indigo blue. And was thus named "azul". I have since changed his name because he informed me one day while I was doing invoices at my desk that "azul" was in fact not his name. He also told me that he was the son of a pirate. And that he had been living in a huge lake in Japan for quite a while until he was captured and sold into slavery. He eventually escaped and headed west for California in search of his birth mother. He wouldn't really go into detail about how he wound up as a pet in a store. I got the impression it's a sore subject.

Okay he didn't actually tell me any of that. I don't speak fish. And fish don't talk. But I just know Azul is not his name. I get the feeling though, that if he were able to talk he would have a Spanish accent. A raspy rich older man kind of accent. Hence the new name I have given him. Indigo Montoya. (And if you don't get the reference then you're missing out.)

I brought him home with me on Friday. He lives in my kitchen on the table. I like having him here. It's nice to have a pet. We are not really supposed to have any here. I think I am cat and dog deprived. But having a fish is nice. And to be honest I am already quite attached. He's got such personality. Sure mock me if you will that fish don't have personalities. But Indigo does. He's got something.

On a side note, I am not sure if I can still eat fish and not feel weird about it. For example, I sat to eat cilantro tuna salad in a whole wheat pita for dinner the other night, and I could feel him looking at me. I suddenly had this guilt. I was totally eating his cousin. I told him that it was not what he thought. That is it was not tuna that I was eating, it was chicken. But he didn't believe me. He just gave me a disapproving look and swam to the other side of his bowl.

Forgive Me Food Journal,

2008-09-14T21:11:00.000-07:00

I have sinned. It's been four days since my last entry.

I guess I just got lazy. I figured that having lost 20 pounds, I had this whole points thing figured out and didn't need you. But I see now the error of my ways and promise it will never ever happen again. Please, Pleeeeease forgive me and take away the two pounds I have gone up because of what I did.

It will never happen again. Ne-ver. Cross my heart hope to spit.

I guess in order to receive forgiveness you will need a full confession from me. So here it goes.

I had french fries. Twice.

I had a yogurt haven Thursday night. Actually I have had yogurt haven other times besides Thursday. There were three occasions to be exact. There were also other times in the past that I went and I just didn't write it down. I tried to keep it from you. But you have to understand. They have Cake Batter as a flavor! It is like eating actual cake batter without the risk of salmonella.

I also had half a donut on Friday afternoon that I didn't write down either. Then there was also the two glasses of wine I had with Matty on Friday night.

I also ate cheese puffs for dinner on Saturday. Though it was not intentional. They are so light and airy the eating of the whole bag (with the help of Matty) was actually shocking to me. That one was an accident.

Then there was also the run in I had at taco night.

It is all just very embarrassing and I am sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I am so sorry.

Food Journal, please take my sincere apology and know that I do need you. I won't keep anything from you ever again. I will count every point and write it all down. Every bite, every taste, every nibble. All of it.

I am glad we cleared that up. I feel better.

Tomorrow is a new day. And I will start this week off right. Weight Watchers Honor.

Wish List

2008-09-11T20:09:00.000-07:00

Once a month all of the women in my family get together and have Chinese food. It started about six years ago. I really look forward to it. It give us all a set date that we can count on seeing each other without having to wait until a birthday or holiday.

All of these women have been a part of my life since I was a very small child. Some of them since the day I was born. And I am sure when I speak about them to others they think my family is huge as I am always saying "my aunt..."

But that is what they are, they are my aunts. And I feel blessed to have them.

One of my aunts wanted to make this last dinner we had different. She felt that it might be nice to give it a theme. So she asked everyone to come to dinner with a wish. Now, this aunt is a little mushy and can sometimes be a little over the top with her words. But it doesn't make me love her any less.

So when she said it was going to be a wish night with a candle exchange I thought it was a little hooey. Monday afternoon she sent me a reminder e-mail to make sure I bring a wish.

My first thought was " I wish my boss was not such an asshole" but then I thought better of it as that is probably not the best dinner topic on ladies night. And him being an asshole is all in how I react to him. I can fix that on my own. No wish necessary. My second thought was to wish I was a size two. Then I thought that was just too vain. And being that I am on weight watchers (and down 20 pounds!!!) I figured that a size two was actually on the horizon. So again, no wish necessary.

As I sat there at my desk watching the humming birds get nectar from the lantana's outside my window, I thought, you know, a wish should mean something. How often are you given the opportunity to make one? Sure there are birthdays and shooting stars. And this theme might be a little hooey but, maybe this was one of those rare nights that a wish would come true.

So I thought about what I would wish for. What in my heart do I really want? It's not a mini cooper or a tiny booty or even an apartment in Manhattan, though all of those things would be nice. That's not what I really want.

What I really want is, this list that I wrote and read to all my aunties at dinner. I wanted to share it with all of you too.

My wish list...

I Wish that everyone’s wish would come true,

I Wish that everyone would truly be happy in their own individual definition of happiness,

I Wish that people would feel loved everyday,

I Wish for peace in Darfur and other war torn countries,

I Wish that people would read more books and watch less reality T.V. (Project Runway and Top Chef excluded)

I Wish that there weren’t any yellow ribbons tied on trees,

I Wish that people cared more about fixing our planet,

I Wish that cruelty to animals was a horrible tale of the past,

I Wish that people would drive more patiently,

I Wish that frozen yogurt was a core food at Weight Watchers,

I Wish that people would sit less and see the world more,

I Wish that we would all wake up tomorrow morning a million dollars richer,

I Wish that there was better protection for the rain forest,

I Wish that there were no more starving children,

I Wish that we all really believed it when people say how beautiful we are,

I Wish that there were no such phrases as: “Endangerd Species”, “Climate Crisis”, “ All Time Unemployment High”, “AIDS Epidemic”, “Incurable”, “Inoperable”, “Malignant” and “Suicide Bombing”

I Wish that elected or not, Barack Obama will be able to continue his valuable role in our country and help us change our world,

I Wish that there was no such thing as a “republican” or a “democrat” but, one group of Americans who can put their differences aside and work on fixing our nations broken spirit,

I Wish that we would love more than we hate, laugh more than we cry, hope more than we doubt, give more than we take, and believe more than we dismiss,

But mostly,

I wish that everyone would be as lucky as I am to have this exceptional group of women in their lives, a group of Mothers, Grandmothers, Sisters, Aunties, Confidants, Role Models and above all, Friends.

What about you? Is there anything that you wish?

Another Lenny Story

2008-09-04T18:44:00.001-07:00

Lenny is very easy to not like. But at the same time I fell a bit sorry for him. Having alienated himself from pretty much everyone he seems like a lonely guy. But he brings that on himself. He doesn't have to be such a bozo (read: giant douche, but I am trying to be pleasant)

His only saving grace is his dog. If he didn't have him there wouldn't be anything to save him. I feel more sorry for his dog than I do him. When Happy (the dog) comes to say hello to me I think, "you poor thing. you have no idea your human is such an asshole".

But I digress. On to the story.

Lenny loves Hawaii. I am not sure if I mentioned that he wears Hawaiian shirts every day. But he does. Every-Day. Because of his love for Hawaii he has an affinity for Rattan Furniture.

He collects it. He can't get enough of it.

And because of that love he is working on publishing a book. All about the history and variations of rattan.

I asked if he was going to call it "Me, Rattan and I" but he was not amused.

Confliction

2008-08-21T21:40:00.000-07:00

I am in a place where I want to have kids. I call it baby fever. It's funny how it happens. It's almost over night. One day you're out and see babies and think "oh how cute" and then the next you see babies and you think "Oh My God I want one."

And there's no turning it off either. Once the baby fever comes there ain't no cure for it except a baby. Even after eight hours of being with your niece who won't stop screaming because she's teething. Baby fever cannot be reasoned with and is not at all interested in logic.

When I was younger I always knew I wanted to be a mom. I would think about having a family. It never developed past the thought of "someday". I didn't have that "have to" in me like I do now. I can practically feel my ovaries screaming at me "These are good eggs! Come on already! Let's get a baby up in here!"

I am not sure what to do about it. I'm ready (really ready). He's ready. So? I guess have a baby.

Right?

Then there is another part of me that wants something else. Something that is hard enough to obtain on its own and adding a baby to the equation just makes it that much harder. I want a career in television and film. Working toward that is like having a child. That goal is your child. It needs to be paid attention to daily. It needs you to be available for anything at anytime. It has no regard for social life. It cannot be neglected.

And I can hear my heart screaming at me "You can do this. You have always wanted it. What are you waiting for? It's go time!"

So wait on the baby until I am ahead a little bit more. But when will that be? When I am forty? I don't want to wait that long. Can't I do both? Can't I have a baby and pursue my career?

I think so. Can I?

But is that fair to my baby for me to be running off all the time because I didn't have my shit together be for he/she came? But then I think, don't I owe it to my child to do what I have always wanted? Shouldn't I show my child that he/she can do anything no matter what the obstacle? Shouldn't I be an example of that?

Alas the confliction.

I don't know if it is my frustration that I keep getting set back after set back because of industry strikes, if it is this idea I have that I cannot have both a baby and an undeveloped career, if it is my looming 30Th birthday and that I am no where near where I thought I would be at this age or if it is all of the above. But whatever it is I am completely torn. I want a baby so badly. I want a career so badly.

I don't know what to do to have both.

It's not that I am impatient. It's not as though I feel like a clock is ticking. But I certainly feel as though a scale is tipping. Going from one side than to the other. Teetering back and forth.

Baby. Career. Career. Baby.

And I am struggling on how to get it to balance.

Turtle Instincts

2008-08-19T19:01:00.001-07:00

I usually don't mind running into people who I have not seen in a long time. If I am out and I see them I wave or walk over and say hi. I like being able to talk to them and hear how they have been and tell them how I have been. You know the small talk that actually means something. I like saying "it was good to see you" and have it be true.

But running into people who I do not like or do not want to talk to is an entirely different situation. If I don't like someone (and I like everyone) usually the feeling is mutual. So what is the point of the small talk? When I am out in public and I see someone I have no interest in saying hello to I have several tactics to avoid the awkward " Hello".

For example, I walk the other way or bury my nose in a dinner menu or one of the books that is on sale at Barnes and Noble or I pretend to be very interested in the "knitting brings the family together" flyer that some lady handed me at Michael's. When I see that the coast is clear I sigh relief and go about my day.

However Monday that little strategy of mine was not so easy. Because it happened at work.

I was sitting in the lobby reading The Hollywood Reporter when she walked in. We worked together at the beginning of the year and she was one of the rudest co-workers I have ever had. Her awful attitude combined with the fact that she was one of the people involved in the decision to have me no longer be with that company is just the icing on the cake of reasons why I never want to say hello to her.

So there I was in the lobby eating a pear and reading a magazine. I saw her walking up the steps to the entrance of the office. That can't be her I thought, what does she need from here? She opened the door and started to walk in. Fuck. Where was I supposed to go? Where was my menu to hide behind? Where was my book marked 10% off to stick my nose in? The magazine was not big enough to hide behind. So I did want any brave woman would do. I jumped up threw the magazine on the chair and ran to the nearest place I could hide. Sadly the only place I could get to fast enough was the supply room. Without hesitation I opened the door and ran in.

My heart was pounding. There I was standing by the labor laws posters and boxes of toner hiding from someone. How old am I? I know I was being silly. But it was Monday and I left my cahones at home. I realized how foolish I was being. She is just some brat I worked with. She's not a monster.

I should go out there and be a grown up and show her that I have no hard feelings. I would say hello to her and I would tell her that I have been fantastic since I stopped working at that crappy excuse for a catering company and if she asked I would say why yes I have lost 17 pounds. Stop stop, please, I am blushing, there is no need to tell me I look fab cause I already know and I would laugh at how, isn't it funny that she and everyone else there thought I was wasting my vote by choosing Obama over Hillary. Look who's laughing now. Oh look at the time, Gotta clock in, Peace Out beyotch.

But I opted to stay hidden. I was not going to waste my energy trying to prove to her that I was better off or that I was more fabulous than she last saw me. Because the only person that it matters to is me. And I already know all of those things are true. And she wouldn't even care. So what would it matter if I told her? Then I had a thought, if it doesn't matter, why was I so worried about seeing her? Then I realized.

I realized while standing (hiding) there that my not wanting to say hello to her was more me not wanting to be reminded of all bad things she, and everyone else there, made me feel. I was hiding from the feelings that were brought back upon my seeing her more than I was hiding from her because I dislike her.

I made up my mind to go back to what I was doing. I walked back to the lobby and continued to read the Hollywood Reporter and finished my pear. She made me feel badly once. I was not going to let her do it again. And I was not go to spend my entire lunch hiding in the supply room because of her. I have already given too much energy than needed. End of story. Moving on.

I was ready. If I saw her I would be friendly. I wouldn't try to prove anything. There is nothing to prove. I would not try to act as if I am so happy to see her. I would just smile and say hello. And be the better person.

As I sat, I saw her coming towards the door. She looked towards me but didn't say anything and started reading some paperwork. I am not sure if she recognized me or not or if maybe reading paperwork was her tactic for not saying hello to me.

Touche.

Dear Tomatoes,

2008-08-17T16:38:00.000-07:00

I am sure this letter is catching you by surprise since you and I don't talk that often. I just wanted to communicate with you about why I left you untouched in my salad bowl today.

It's not that I don't like you. I do. We go way back. I would not have been able to survive school without you in those little caprese sandwiches I ate everyday. So please don't take this letter the wrong way.

You see I like everything that can be done with you. You are so creative and you just go with everything. You're so flexible too. You can be sweet, salty, stewed, sliced, diced. You can be anything. Hell, you're a core food at weight watchers. And lets face it, pizza would be lost without you. Same goes for chips and salsa. And ketchup! You really are a wonder. I think you're great. I really really do.

But the thing is, you alone just don't do it for me. I know this sounds silly. Because who in the world doesn't like you? I mean, everybody likes you. Okay wait, not everybody. You and my mother had a strained relationship long before I was even around, but that is your guys issue.

Anyway as I was saying, there is something about you by yourself. We just, we just don't connect. I don't want to hurt your feelings or anything but you can be kind of slimy. And that's fine because that is who you are. But I cannot pretend anymore. I cannot put you in my salads or on my sandwiches and act as if I am enjoying your company.

So for the most part, what I am trying to say is, I don't think I will be hanging out with you one on one anytime soon. It just doesn't feel right. I wish I had a better reason for you. But as of right now I just don't.

It's nothing personal tomatoes. It's just me. Please don't take this like I am ending things with you forever. I will still talk to you at parties when you are in a tasty bloody mary outfit and we will still hang out at mexican restaurants when you're in your spicy salsa attire. And of course when you are in my pasta bowl speaking Italian. (I love it when you speak Italian.)

Anyway, that's all I wanted to say to you. Take care tomatoes. I will see you around.

The Travel Post!

2008-08-13T18:01:00.000-07:00

This weekend we drove up to Napa to visit family. It was so beautiful and so fun. The trip was just what I needed. I think I had just been getting too wrapped up in work and all of the Lenny kookiness and other life stresses for my own good. But this weekend helped bring me back to earth. Wine tasting all weekend was fantastic fun.

We left Friday afternoon. The drive was not that bad actually. There was hardly any traffic. And the views were just beautiful. (see title picture).

Everything was going pretty smooth until we missed our freeway interchange. So we wound up having to go through San Francisco. Which brings me to this question... What is it with San Francisco and freeways? We could not locate an on ramp for beans. It has to be the most complicated thing I have ever done. Algebra? Piece of cake. Putting together a bookcase for Ikea? No Prob. But finding a freeway on ramp in San Francisco? Forget it. I suck, I fail. I cannot do it. It took us almost two hours driving though the city to find it. When we finally did we decided to get some gas first. We went inside, paid for it, took pee breaks and drove off. Three blocks later we realized that the gas we paid for was never pumped and had to turn around. Smack on forehead. I blame the stupidity on malnourishment. A three Musketeers does not a meal make! But I did get this pretty cool picture of the golden gate at night.

We finally arrived to my sister in laws house a little after 11. We were welcomed with some glasses of wine. I was totally buzzed after half a glass and fell asleep.

The next day we went wine tasting. On the way to the winery's we stopped to get coffee at this place. It was an interesting combo. I would venture to say it was almost as odd, if not more so, as the Chinese food and donuts places. It was a coffee house/adult toy store. Yes kids adult toys. So next to bags of whole bean coffee, were bottles of lube and displayed nicely next to quaint little coffee mugs were dildos. I was instantly in the fourth grade and could not stop giggling. We wound up passing on the coffee. I think it was too much to take seriously. Needless to say with our potty humor the jokes were endless for the rest of the day.

We went to three places for tastings, Korbel, Hop Kiln and Rochioli. My favorite of the three was Hop Kiln. The wine was so good and it was just beautiful. It's beautiful everywhere up there but there is something about being surrounded by vineyards that just makes everything feel better. It very well could be the free wine tastings that make being up there all warm and fuzzy but the scenery has a lot to do with it too. See for yourself...

The Rochioli Vineyard

The Hop Kiln Winery

The River on the way to Healdsberg

The great thing about wine tasting is that it's really good and it's free! Each place gives you four complementary tastes and we went to three places. Lets do the math shall we? That's four tastes at three places equals 12! That adds up to about two glasses of wine for free. Sweeeet. And the warm and fuzzys ain't bad neither. The only down side is that it does make you kind of sleepy. So it is not an all day kind of activity. It is definitely something that requires a nappy after.

The rest of the trip was pretty great. There's a lot more that happened. And a lot of stories to tell, like how my nephews and my brother in law stayed up all night on Sunday trying to kill the rats living in their apple tree with a pellet gun. And how because of that I had an intense prayer session with Saint Francis that they wouldn't be able to. My prayer was answered and no rats got shot. Silly me told them what I had done and now my brother in law thinks I have some kind of crazy saint connection and is somewhat frightened of me. There's also the story of how the dudes in the family all went kayaking and mattys boat tipped over. But that's pretty much it.

Though I wish it had been a few days longer, it was a wonderful trip and I am happy that I had such a great time.

Oy Mi Estomago!

2008-08-07T19:59:00.000-07:00

This past Saturday at my Weight Watcher Meeting I was awarded my 16 pounds. I have lost 16 pounds! I can hardly believe it. I have been working really really hard. Writing down every little thing in my food journal, drinking lots of water, getting activity whenever I can. And avoiding junk food.

But occasionally I will allow myself a treat. Like a small fries from McDonald's or my most favorite of treats, a Refuge (A.K.A. Guava & Cheese Strudel) from Porto's. I could eat twenty of them but I just eat one (Okay,two).

So the other day to celebrate my loss, I decided to let myself have a really really good treat. Something that I would not really be able to eat and stay within my daily points. I wanted something really good, something that I have not had since I joined WW back at the end of February. So we went out for Italian and I got the yummiest item on the menu. I got this wide noodle Alfredo with grilled asparagus and salmon. It tasted wonderful. And the Alfredo was the perfect consistency to be wiped up with bread. Mmmmmm Alfredo sauce. It was just creamy tasty goodness.

But about an hour after I ate it, I was in the worst pain. My stomach hurt so bad. I felt like I was trying to digest a cinder block. I was also pretty sure I had just gained all that weight back in one sitting. I am surprised that I didn't burst a button on my pants. I was tempted to take a tums or something but I was afraid I would wind up like that guy in The Meaning of Life. Even if the tums was "wafer thin".

I thought if maybe I went for a walk I would feel better but it was hard to even move. I just kind of hobbled down the sidewalk letting out little "sighs" and "owws" and "uhhgggss".
Honestly, I just wanted to lay down and fall asleep but I was so full I couldn't even do that! I just kind of laid on my bed and distracted myself by watching Ocean's 13. Eventually (read: the next morning) I finally felt normal and decided that never again will I eat that.

I am so amazed at how much my eating habits have changed. I used to be able to eat that stuff with no problem at all. I used to only want that stuff. And now that I have been watching calories and portions I can't eat that stuff and for the most part, I don't want it. Even though there are still those times I really want french fries.

It is funny how your body really does want you to be healthy. It's weird that my body really does want plain grilled fish with steamed veggies. Even though my tummy thinks it wants in-n-out. My body just feels better when I eat clean. And not only that, it thanks me by giving me clearer skin, better energy and a smaller waist.

Oh Lenny

2008-08-07T19:35:00.000-07:00

Tiny little story...

I have terrible allergies. I get all itchy and congested. And sometimes I get really awful sinus headaches which I hate more than jury duty. When I woke up this morning with one, I knew it was not going to be a good day for me.I honestly feel that waking up with a headache is the rudest way to start a day. It is just very offending.

I arrived to work and sat at my desk. I controlled my urges to take a fist full of Advil by drinking coffee instead. Aside from my ripping headache and that I was sneezing every ten minutes. I was completely able to do my job.

I am not sure why, but he thought I had Ebola. He wanted to send me home because I was "going to get everyone sick"

If he had it his way he would have put me in a plastic bubble. I explained that I have only allergies and that I am in no way contagious. But he was convinced that I was going to get him sick. So he pretty much followed me around with a Lysol can all morning.

After I was done using the fax machine he would spray it down. After I used the phone, there he was with the Lysol. He eventually stopped this nonsense at noon. But cheese and rice, it's only allergies.

Just another little thing that makes him my bozo the boss Lenny.

And Now It Is Time To Tell You...

2008-07-30T19:06:00.000-07:00

...About the new boss man. Or Bozo The Boss. Or Lenny, which is how I will be referring to him on here.

As I have written before, I am temping. I have been for a few months now. No word on if they are going to hire me on permanently yet. Lenny is cheap that way. I think he is putting it off for as long as possible. You don't have to give health benefits or a pay raise to the temp. It's sad I know.

I have said numerous times there is a no Internet rule. He feels that all people will do if there weren't one is play on line and not get anything done. He also thinks that people will be looking for other jobs. He has this weird idea that people are not happy there. I can't imagine why.

So besides his no Internet rule, there are a few other things about him I think you should know.

One: He is obsessed with Tony Robins. Ob-se-sess-ed.
He goes to these "Be a better entrepreneur" or whatever classes every Tuesday. I am not sure what goes on there or what he's taught. But every Tuesday when he gets back to the office from his meeting he has a whole bunch of new catch phrases and ideas. He will treat the whole day like a workshop. One time after one of his meetings he said to me, “Let’s make a vision plan of what you want to accomplish this week". Ummm, Lenny. I'm a receptionist/accounting assistant. Is there something more than invoicing and answering phones that I need to accomplish?

Two: He Accuses.
He gets into these moods where he is convinced everyone in the office does not want to work. On Thursday we were a little busy. I was in the accounting office doing credit reconciling in QuickBooks (you know you're jealous) and all of the sudden I could hear him screaming at our office “You know what you are? You're all a bunch of water carriers. No body wants to chop the wood. You only want to carry water." My guess is he was referring to this book. If he was, then he missed the point of it. I'm just saying is all.

Three: He makes the most ridiculous analogies.
Last week I was away from my desk and missed his phone call. He scolded me because what if it was not his call that was missed but a big client? I apologized but he was not hearing it. He then went into this tangent about how his company can be compared to an underdog football team of which he is the star quarterback trying to make the winning touchdown. But he has no wide receivers or line backers to help him win the big game.

Four: He laughs like Yogi Bear
But he is not stealing pic-nic baskets from park rangers. He just laughs like that. It's kind of odd. And I can never tell what he's laughing at either.

Five: He is really into astrology.
So much so that on my first day of work he asked what my sign was. When I said "Scorpio" he replied "uh-oh". When I asked him what that was supposed to mean he didn't say anything and just walked away. Then, a few weeks ago, he was accusing (see number 2) me of not doing something that I did in fact do. When I tried to defend myself and say that I did do it. He cut me off Dr. Evil style and said "Scorpio, ah ah ah Scorpio" while waving a finger at me.

And last but not least.....

Six: He's. Well, I don't even know how to title this.
This one is my personal favorite. He is going on vacation next month. It's his favorite place to go. He goes every year and never misses it. He is going to---- Burning Man.

Yes kids. Burning Man.

How? Huh?...Lenny?....Uh... Burning Man? Really? Really?

Nothing against Burning Man but never in a million years would I guess, based on how he is, that Burning Man would be where he goes on vacation every year. Disney World? Sure. Bermuda? Why not. Mexico even. But, Burning Man? Really I am speechless.

So there is my new boss man in a nut shell. You would think I was making all this up. But I am not. How can I? This stuff is better than fiction! It is what dreams are made of. If I get anything out of this job it's gonna be some pretty great stories.

The Results Are In

2008-07-23T19:47:00.000-07:00

Back in April I had posted about finding an old friend on FaceBook. I was not sure at the time whether or not my writing to her was a mistake. Because her reply was very vapid. And it did not seem that her excitement to hear from me matched mine of finding her. It left me feeling uncertain and I had an over all feeling of malaise.

She sent me another message and we began e-mailing. We wrote a few times back and forth and eventually decided to make dinner plans. It took sometime but we had dinner last night.

And I am happy to say that I can call her friend.

We decided to meet at 7. I was really nervous all day. I got home from work and put on the cutest outfit I could put together. A nice poplin shirt, skinny jeans and my shiny blue ballet flats from H&M (Thanks Anita! ). I put my face on, did my hair. I was good to go.

When I got to the restaurant I had a moment of panic. I realized that I had no idea what she looks like now. I had no idea who I was looking for. She was no longer a short little twelve year old girl with braided pig tails. She was a grown up now. Then I realized that she had no idea what I look like now. Would we recognize each other?

Then I saw her walking up the street. I felt this rush of relief. And I got a tiny lump in my throat. There was my friend. My friend who I have not seen in a lifetime.

She looked just the same. (Sans braided pig tails.) She looked just like her twelve year old self just a little older. When we said hello I felt happy, but then I also felt a twinge of sadness. Because I saw how grown up she was. And I realized just how much I missed her. And how much time had really passed, all of Jr. High, all of High School, all of College and a pinch of years after.

Like I said, a lifetime.

We got to talking right away. I thought that maybe things would be awkward. But it was just like when we were little. We still like the same kind of music, we still like the same kinds of movies and we still got along really well.

Dinner ended and we promised that this one would not be the only one. We met for two hours but I wished it was longer. There was so much more I wanted to tell her and talk about. There is so much more I want to ask her.

But I guess you can't just rush right back into a friendship again. It is something that will take time. Much like a garden, you can't let it die and then some years later water it only once and expect your roses to come right back. It will take tending and effort. Which I am willing to do.

As I drove home I was flipping through channels and the song Reunited and it feels so good came on. It made me smile. I took that as a sign that us meeting again was a good thing. And will continue to be so.

Best Sister Ev-er

2008-07-13T17:20:00.000-07:00

My sister was invited to a special screening of "The Dark Knight" this past Thursday. I think green with envy would be a bit of an understatement to describe how I felt becasue I have been dying to see that movie since the end credits "Batman Begins".

I told her that she would be my favoritest sister in the world if she got me and a plus one on the list. Sure, she is my only sister but that doesn't mean she has to be my favorite. Though she would be regardless. I also bribed her with many things that I can't come through with. But that is what you do when you want something. Especially if you are asking your big sister. You beg and bribe and bat eye lashes. And, of course toss in the long winded "Pleeeeease?"

She said she would see what she could do. And she did. Because somehow she managed to scrounge up two extra tickets and gave them to me cause she's awesome like that.

My sister is 7 1/2 years older than me.

She used to hate me because I was a pest. I guess I can see how I would be seen that way. Where ever she was I had to be too. Whatever she got at McDonald's I wanted also. Whatever she was doing I wanted to do. Whatever she was watching I had to see. But it was only because I thought she was the coolest. She made me want to be a teenager more than anything.

She knew so much more than me and had been to so many places. She was always so cool. She had the best clothes, just like Andie in "Pretty in Pink". She stayed out late on weekends and she hung out on Melrose. Some nights I would be in my P.J's and she would be leaving with friends. When I would asked her where she was going she'd say "out". When I asked her where "out" was she told me I would find out when I was older.

I couldn't wait to be older.

I remember laying in bed dreaming of being older and going to "out" with all of my friends. In my dream, out was a place where there was lots of Pizza and Root Beer. And people playing games like Ski Ball and Parcheesi. When I thought of what I would be wearing it was always bright blue jellie shoes, a pink layer skirt and a sweatshirt just like Jennifer Beal's in "Flashdance". Oh, and I drove the barbie dream car.

She listened to cool bands like "The Smiths"and "Echo and the bunnymen" She saw INXS and Duran Duran in concert! And her vinyl collection is something that to this day, I wish was mine.

Eventually I grew out of my pest phase and we became friends. But she also became a great mentor.

She would help me with perfect things to say to those mean girls at school. She would tell me what to do about the boy I had a crush on, what to tell our mom and dad if I had missed curfew. She taught me how to laugh at myself. She told me to never let a boy make me feel like I had to be somebody different for him to like me, to always go with my gut and most importantly; to be myself no matter what anybody thinks.

She helped me grow into who I am today.

We have had our share of fights. But mostly, we share lots of laughing and talking and friendship.

The night of the screening I insisted we leave at 5:00 to beat traffic. She insisted we would be fine if we left at 6:00. I won and we left when I wanted. But she was right. Cause we wound up getting to the movie an hour early and had to find a Starbucks to hang out in. She teased me for being a time Nazi. And made fun of me by doing her impression of me being "ready to go". Which, even though I hate being teased, was very funny.

The movie was great. ( I won't go into detail cause I am not a spoiler) and seeing a special screening with my big sister was just fantastic fun.

I am not sure what was cooler that night. Showing up at the door and getting to walk right in cause my name was "on the list"? Getting to see the movie a whole week before anybody else? Or that movie or not, I really do have the best sister ever?

I'll go with the latter.

What I really do when I'm "working"

2008-07-11T18:29:00.000-07:00

We all do the "pretend to work when we're not" thing. We have to. Other wise work would be too much to deal with. Unless you have your dream job, which I don't. Not yet anyway.

I have mentioned before that there is a very strict no Internet policy where I work. This blows. But I don't have to tell you that. I think that's pretty apparent to everyone. I have to say that I think it is the cruelest of rules. I feel like I have been totally cut off from the outside world. I feel out of the loop with my celebrity chisme, I feel like I am missing funny chats with my friends.

When I get home around 5ish and finally get settled in; I go upstairs to check my e-mail but everyone has already left their jobs for the day. So my replies don't get read until the next day.

It's like arriving to a party late only to discover everyone has already left.

I really feel like I miss the fun. Even my blogs are suffering. I have had no time to post all of the things I want to. Not to mention that I have had no time at all to post on my friends blog. It makes me sad. I miss my friends, I miss my blogging time, and I miss that connection to the outside. I miss wasting company time while I surf the net.

I was feeling particularly feisty today. The boss man was watching me work on an excel spread sheet as if he were a buzzard and I was a dying rodent. He just wouldn't go away.

Every ten minutes...
"How's it going?"
"How's that project coming along?"
"So uh, what time do you think that will be finished?"

Shoo fly.

He is the kind of boss who believes that all his employees are liars who only have piles on their desks to give the illusion that they are working. He believes that privacy is a privilege not a right. He also believes that people pretended to work when really they are not.

Today I figured if he already thinks I am not working, then why bother?

So at 4:00 I decided that I was done with the excel project. I sat and pretended to be doing percentage calculations but really I was writing several haiku's about how much I disliked my job at that moment.

Here are a two I thought I would share.

Really board at work
No More Excel Spread Sheets Please
I want to go home.

One more hour to go
Until I can quit this place
I need a cocktail

Writing on tiny scratch papers is as close to blogging at work as I am going to get. It's not the same. But it's something.

I can't even write emails to my friends from my work account. It is grounds for termination. The boss man has this theory about work that is much like the one in "office space" he wants people to ask themselves if how they are working and what they are doing is good for the company.

While I was doodling and writing I thought of that. But I am not so sure he would have liked my answer.

Was writing these good for the company? No. But was it good for me? Yes.

A Grumpy Bear with Sandy Underpants

2008-07-06T13:33:00.000-07:00

Starting Thursday this weekend has been non stop dinner parties and hang out with the family fiestas. I have not gotten home before 2 am this whole weekend. So needless to say I am wiped.

Last night was the last of the parties. When we got home at two-ish I was looking forward to my bed and sleeping until half past September. I made my way to the bedroom. The window was open and a nice breeze was coming in. The sheets were clean and cool, my pillow was perfect. I don't even remember falling asleep. I was so tired I slept in my clothes.

It has to be said that I love my sleep. I love it just as much as I love make up and shoes and LOST.

I am known to my friends and family as "the miracle sleeper" because almost always, I can sleep anywhere at anytime. I have slept through thunder storms, earthquakes and parties. However, even though I am "the miracle sleeper" I can still be woken. And on the rare occasion I do get woken and even rarer, cannot go back to sleep it puts me in the foulest of moods.

Today is one of those occasions. And everything and everyone is irritating me and I am snarky and fussy.

This morning at about 7:30 the phone rang. All of my bills are paid so I couldn't think of who was calling. The machine picked up and all I could hear was my brother in law screaming "wake up wake up wake up! Early bird gets the worm! Get moving! Get started! Can't sleep all day! Hello Hello Hello"

As I laid in bed my thoughts were not nice. I kept thinking, "That Ahole. He knows that we were out late cause he was at the same party. Little shit. Why does he does he think it's funny to do this? I'm gonna let all the air out of his tires. I am going to sell him on e-bay. The early bird gets the worm? What kind of shite is that?"

He kept talking for what seemed like forever until we picked up the phone and then hung it up again so he would get cut off. But that didn't stop him. He then called both of our cell phones too. For what? For nothing. Nuh-thing. He was just awake and board and wanted to hang out. For the love of peat! He couldn't have waited?

Then that was it for me. I was awake and totally worked up. Miracle sleeper or not there was no way I was getting back to bed. From that moment on I have been uber pissy.

I know I would feel better if I took a nap. Or drank my weight in Iced Coffee. But it won't take the place of what I wanted to do this morning, that I didn't get to do, which was sleep in.

On the grand scale of things it is not that big of a deal. It is just the principal of it. And the idea of why someone would find waking people up funny.

Isn't it interesting how one small thing can just set the tone for the day? One tiny snafu or rift in plans can just make you want to hide under a rock. Or sell your brother in law on e-bay?

Maybe I need to work on being more easy like Sunday (no pun intended) when it comes to stuff like this. But maybe he needs to work on his timing.

Yes, what he said is true. The early bird does get the worm. But it is the second mouse who gets the cheese.

Look ma no hands!

2008-07-02T20:44:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was July 1. Otherwise known as dooms day to many "Talk on the cell phone while they are driving" Californians. I know that there are many people who are very opposed to this new rule. But there are many more who support it, myself included.

When the memo went around at work to remind us of the new rule I got a chill up my spine. I don't know why I didn't make the connection before. But yesterday morning it hit me.

There it was in big bold black letters effective "JULY 1"

On July 1, 1997 a group of my friends and I decided to get dinner and rent a movie, then go watch it at someones house. As we were sitting at a red light on the way to the video store we were deciding where to go to dinner. The light turned gre-

Then that is where everything goes black.

Our car was hit by a woman going 45 miles an hour. She was talking on her cell phone. In her statement to the police she said that she could not recall if the light was red or green, she just followed the person in front of her.

I am told by my friends that the woman who hit us didn't get off of the phone when the accident happened. In fact when my friend who was driving went up to talk to her she shushed him and told him in a low voice that she was on the phone.

I was knocked unconscious because I hit my head on another passengers head. I was wearing my seat belt but I was in the backseat in the middle so I only had on a lap belt. My injuries consisted of two skull fractures, a neck fracture, a back fracture and a broken collar bone.

Thankfully and miraculously I was only in the hospital for three days. And was fully healed in a few months. I am grateful that I have healed and that I was not worse off. I feel very blessed for that.

I just find it almost creepy that eleven years ago to the day, the hands free only rule went into effect. I wish it was sooner. I wonder how many others have stories like mine? Who else has been effected by someone talking on their phone? And now, how many accidents will be prevented?

I think that driving should be someones very first priority when driving. But so many times it isn't. So many times we get distracted with our ipods or phones. And we forget that we are in fact, driving.

It's not as if I am this "No takin ahn zeh sel fhun!" Nazi. Some people can rock talking and driving. Others? Not so much.

I know I am not good at it so I don't do it. I have on a few occasions and I found that I missed my turns and one time, for example, I stayed stopped at a stop sign way too long because I was waiting for it to turn green. It was not until someone honked at me that I realized I was being a doof.

The fact that I have talked and driven makes me feel guilty considering the accident I was in. And I also feel badly because I know the kinds of things I say when I see dumb ass drivers talking on the phone.

We have all driven behind that person who has no idea how to both drive and talk. It is infuriating. I am one of the most patient people you will ever meet. But stupid cell phone talking drivers even get me to cuss like a sailor and curse them with yeast infections.

So now that I think about it, this rule kills two birds with one stone. Not only will this new rule prevent a lot of accidents; but I am sure it will probably lower the blood pressure of us who are stuck behind some of those stupid people.

Hopefully this stupidity has ended and it's not just being replaced with a new breed of stupid people fidgeting with their hands free device.

One of "those" girls

2008-06-15T14:50:00.000-07:00

While I was sitting at my desk at work this girl walked by outside. She was tall and thin with long wavy blond hair, super pretty; your basic nightmare. As she walked past the glass door that my desk sits behind I could see she was wearing a tank top that read "I can steal your boyfriend"

No she can't.

It kind of irked me. I wondered if she new what her shirt really meant. If she knew what kind of message it was sending, that she's one of "those girls" who steals boyfriends. Or husbands. Or whatever. I am sure she isn't really. She probably just thought it was funny. But still, who wears that kind of shirt?

I have never stolen someones man (but I have someone steal mine) so I don't know what it takes or how it feels for them when they steal. It's a different kind of species of woman than I am. Why take somebody's man? Is it some kind of ego thing? Is it the desire for the unattainable? Is it that they want what they can't have? Is it a game to them?

Maybe it's all of the above.

After she walked away I thought about it a little more. And I wondered what one of "those girls" might say if I asked any of the questions listed above. As I thought, a bit of inspiration was born in the form of a poem. So here it is posted below. My idea of what she would say...

-----
I'm the girl you thought only existed in your head
A collection of all of those things you dread
I'm the girl who creates nightmares to no end
cause I'm the girl who's gonna steal your boyfriend

I'm the girl who everybody knows
the pretty one, perfect from my head to my toes
The one who's laughter is contagious
Always looking simply outrageous

Always having something intellectual to say
sporting a smile that will brighten up his day
I'm better and thinner than you'll ever be
it's no contest, he's gonna want me.

I don't care if he's your boyfriend or even your fiance
I am gonna make him mine, I'm gonna take him away
It's easy to understand. I will help you to see
How can he not want me? I am everything you can't be

Deny it all you want honey but you know it's true
Cause he tells me things he cant tell you
We have inside jokes and hang out all the time
Just you wait sweetheart I am gonna make him mine
We do stuff together he says he can't do with you
Sounds to me like you guys are through

Don't bother crying. I don't love him like you do
I just want him for the game
I am not here for a relationship
I think love is lame

As soon as I get him my game is done
I will be movin on to the next one
It's like I said, I don't love him like you do
Stealing guys is just what I do

Maybe I will see you again sometime
when you have another guy I will try to make mine
Keep your guard up. I am not gone for good
Life would be too easy if I would

But until then I will be on my way
I have other relationships to ruin
Other men to steal away

Don't judge a neighbor by their iPod

2008-06-09T21:37:00.000-07:00

I have this new rocker neighbor. He's in a band, has tattoos, drives a truck and rides a motorcycle on the weekend. And behind closed doors I am sure he eats kittens and dances around to "Bela Lugosi is dead"

He is the kind of guy who, when I wave to him (as neighbors should) has this expression on his face that can say one of two things. One, he can't remember who I am so he's confused or Two, he's pissed I am sharing my girl next door sweetness cause he's mean ass rock star. I like to go with the latter. And I also have a feeling his inner monologue is swearing at me for being nice.

But my image of him has quickly been shattered.

For the past month, when he drives past our unit to his parking place he has been playing one song. The same song. Everyday. No exaggeration, every-day. And it is always at the same place too. It is as if he starts the song at the same time every time he drives home.

And that song is "My Sacrifice" by Creed.

So I don't get it. Maybe he doesn’t eat kittens after all. He likes Creed? They do not a hard core rocker band make.

No judgment. Even though I hate that song, I hold no judgment. Because, who knows? Maybe someone out there has heard me listening to Olive "Extra Virgin" one of the millions of times I have listened to that album since it came out a thousand years ago and makes fun of me. We like what we like right?

I am curious as to what that song means to him. I wonder if it makes him think of someone special or if it makes him think of a time that he was really happy. I wonder why he loves that particular one so much. Maybe he doesn't even have a reason. I guess when you love a song you don't need one.

I have those songs that I can listen to again and again because it takes me back to a really wonderful time. I also have songs I can listen to ten times in a row just because I think they are fantastic. No real reason other then they are just really good.

I could listen to Coldplays “In my place” or U2’s “Beautiful day” or Zero7‘s “speed dial no 2” or Arcade Fire's "Neighborhoods #1" a bazillion times and never grow tired of them. I just love them so.

But maybe what my Zero 7 is to someone else is what his Creed is to me. (side note, when that song first came out thought Scott Stapp was singing "my sack of rice" yes, yes, I am a dork)

How about you guys? What songs could you listen to and never get sick of?

Internet Jail

2008-06-02T13:27:00.001-07:00

Just wanted to check in really quickly as for the lack of posts lately.

I am temping at an office where there is a very strict "no Internet surfing EVER" policy. What the funk that's about I have no idea.

I have to say that it's hard to not go onto it. It's like trying to itch your nose with no hands. Hard, itchy and uncomfortable.

Who knew I was so addicted?

Apparently Bozos are not just landlords. They are bosses who make no Internet rules too.

Post to follow.

Flove you guys.

Bozos in Charge

2008-05-20T18:12:00.000-07:00

We live in a tiny tiny postage stamp sized apartment. It's cute, rent controlled, in a great area and it has a pool (which came in very very handy with the heat we just had.) It's a great place to live. But it has it's moments. Our should I say our landlady has her moments.

Our landlady is funny. Not funny as in she can tell a good joke; I mean funny as in she's a few beans short a burrito. Picture Yosemite Sam trapped in the body of an eighty year old woman.

For example, one time we had gone out of town and forgotten to leave her our rent check. When we arrived back home on the 6th she was none too pleased. She came banging on the door at seven am hollering "where's the rent?" and banging on the screen door. When we opened up and apologized for it being late she said she didn't care that it was late, it could be as late as two weeks; she was just mad because she doesn't like to go to the bank more than once.

Another time, our refrigerator, which was old enough to have belonged to David and Goliath when they were small boys, was running our electrical bill into triple digits. When I brought her to our unit to come look at it, she told me it didn't make sense that our fridge would be doing that. Her reasoning? Because she just bought a brand new sub zero fridge and it wasn't giving her any problems at all.

And my personal favorite, a gem that will live on in landlady folklore for all eternity, took place Saint Patrick's Day 2004. She was making a big corned beef and cabbage dinner for the building to celebrate the holiday. Earlier that morning I went out to our dumpster to do some recycling when I saw her. She was practically doing a handstand in the dumpster. She pulled herself up, saw me and said " oh don't mind me, just looking for something to marinade meat in. " Yes my friends, she was dumpster diving for buried treasure. And not just any kind of treasure. The kind to...ew....marinade....gag.. meat in.

Needless to say we skipped that dinner party. Aside from those little tidbits she is a great landlady and we have a great place. But we are out growing it and are looking to move to some place with an additional bedroom.

On Sunday we went walking and saw that there was a place close by that was renting. We called to ask about it and the man wanted a shopping list of things from us if we were to move in there. To name a few he wanted our first born, to swear allegiance to his cult, to promise to always hang a picture of Neil Diamond above the fire place and $3,200 cash as a deposit before we moved in.

Okay, no that is not entirely true, but he did want a $3,200 dollar deposit in cash, a signed contract that we would never do drugs while living there, submit to a drug test to assure that we were drug free upon moving in, to have a credit score of 800, to have never ever been over drawn in our bank accounts, to have never ever missed a payment on a credit card and to have individual incomes that were each three times what the rent is.

Now I am not a mathematician. But if the rent is $1,600 a month that means he wants us to each make $4,800. Making that a combined monthly income of $9,600. Now pardon me, but what kind of drugs is he on? If we were pulling in $9,600 dollars a month, I'd be blogging from my beautiful home in beach wood canyon that I pay a mortgage on. Or I might be blogging from St. Tropez or Bondi Beach while I work on my tan. Either Or sound great to me.

And also, submitting to a drug test? Don't even get me started on the whole can of coocoo that is.

So my question is, do you have to be totally off your rocker to rent someone property? Is that what it takes to be someones landlord? A micro manager or a dumpster diver? I hope that's not that case.

Although it is great motivation to make a combined income of $9,600 a month. Cause then I would be my own landlady.

And we would buy a huge fabulous house in the hills and have our own Saint Patrick's Day party with corned beef and cabbage. That was marinated in store bought Tupperware. Obviously.

Minus Your Plus One Equals No Fun

2008-05-17T12:45:00.000-07:00

The other day I posted about not knowing what to wear to the husbands work party. But apparently a big memo went out telling everyone to come without their plus ones. So it won't matter. Cause I have been formally uninvited.

It's not that big a deal to me I guess. But it seems kind of lame. Doesn't it? I mean what is the point of a huge work party if you can't bring your plus ones? Who wants to go to a party for work and only hang out with the people you already see all day everyday?

He wanted to sneak me in somehow. Like through the back door or get me on the list and I could just pretend I work where he does. But I think that they would figure out that I don't work with them for a few reasons.

The biggest reason, I am a terrible horrible no good awful liar. I do not know how to do it at all. It's like a birth defect. I mean, I can twist truths and embellish if it is totally needed but that's because it's not a total fabrication of the truth.

For example, if I were to be asked by someone in my family to watch my nephew on a Thursday night from 6-11 and not only will they not be paying me, but it will cause me to miss LOST. I might say I can't because I have dinner plans I cannot get out of. Because, technically that is true. On Thursdays I make dinner and watch LOST. Could I have skipped doing that this Thursday? Sure, but it's LOST people! What's gonna happen with the freighter guys?!?!

But anyway, to say that I work where he does is totally different. It might be hard to pull off. And not only that, I will have to get people to believe I work with them even though that evening would be the first they have ever met me; I will also have to pretend my husband is not my husband. I guess that's easy to do when totally sober, but like I said in the other post it's open bar. And lets face it if I can't lie sober then I am a goner if I have had some drinks. Also making out is the BEST when you have had a few. I think after a few glasses of wine or vodka shots I would let my guard down and smooch my husband and forget that we are "supposed" to be "co-workers". I guess I could just be branded an office floozy. What will it matter when I am not even really working with any of them anyway?

But that's not how I want to meet everyone for the first time.

I think it will be best if I skip this party. Though I do really want to go. I don't want to have to pretend to be someone else to be there. I would hate to go and be some character, Milly in accounts payable, Donna in marketing, Francis in licensing.

I want to meet the people he works with and be able to be introduced to them as who I am. His wife, Hannah in a totally cute non-fugly dress.

What a beautiful tipi your'e wearing!

2008-05-13T09:31:00.000-07:00

Next week I am going with the Husband to a party for his work. It's at some fancy pantsy place in the city. Open bar, maybe some dancing. I will be meeting all his co-workers. So I want to wear something cute.

I have been really good with the points. I have lost a few more lbs. I am at a point with my clothes where the stuff that used to fit me is still a bit too tight; but the stuff I got to fit me when I had gained weight is now too big. It's this strange half way point. I think another ten pounds lost will help. But that's going to take a little while. It certainly won't be by next week.

I went to the stores that sell the perfect outfits for such an occasion. H&M, Forever 21. The usual. But something has happened to fashion in my time away from shopping.

I couldn't find a single dress that didn't make me look like a carpet or a tent or a cupcake or Violet Beauregarde.

The patterns were so (gag me) 70's. Big orange, red and blue paisley nightmares. And if it's not dry heave induced patterns, it's that they are fit to look like a mumu. Slim at the neck line and then poofy as can be at the waist. The cuts on these dresses are just all wrong. They are only flattering on girls who weigh 90 pounds. They do no justice to woman's who has any hint of curves. What is with that?

See, my goal is to look thinner. Not pregnant. Not that being pregnant isn't beautiful, it just isn't the look I am going for for that event. I want people to see me and say " oh wow you look great!" not " oh wow when are you due?"

It is just very confusing to me. Women are under such pressure to look thin and to be thin. But the styles of the dresses that are out are designed to make us look bigger. So if the style is to look bigger, then why isn't it stylish to be bigger? Wouldn't it be easier to just eliminate the fugly clothes and make really classic stuff that looks good on all body types? Or even better create styles that celebrate curves not sabotage them?

I would make those kinds of clothes myself but I can barley sew on a button let alone a whole outfit. I guess I will just keep saying my prayers to Saint Chanel that this fad passes soon.

And Now For Something Completely Different

2008-05-10T13:35:00.000-07:00

Really quick...

I started a second blog. It's called Friends I've Met. It is my attempt at making a difference in the world when it comes to helping animals.

Please check it out when you can. I think it is going to be a really good thing.

I am still going to post here. I couldn't stop doing that. I don't think my rants about job hunting and weird encounters at Starbucks would fit in on the new blog.

:)

Old Friends or Old Foes?

2008-04-29T18:42:00.000-07:00

I joined Facebook a while ago. I have said before that I detest myspace. My friend, the one who had a fit when I said I didn't like it, feels that Facebook and myspace are one in the same. I disagree. Facebook is totally different. For one, I don't get friend invites from random slutty women I don't know who want me to watch them take a sponge bath and two I don't get invites from random greasy men who want to show me what "it's like to really have fun". No joke I got multiple invites that said those things. Guh-Ros.

I think Facebook is great. I have found so many people on there, like my roommate when I went to school in Italy who I lost touch with over the years, friends from high school, I was even found by the very first boy who both kissed me and broke my heart. Even my Mom is my friend on there.

I did some snooping around and found a friend of mine from elementary school. I think it has been seventeen years since I have spoken to her. So I sent her a message. She wrote me back today and the message was, I dunno, strange. It definitely was not as warm as I thought it might be. But maybe that's my fault.

When I read her response I realized that I may have had a moment of amnesia when I decided to write her. Because in a second, how I really remember her all came rushing back to me.

A little back story on the relationship...

I was new to her school in the third grade. She for some reason hated me immediately and took it upon herself to make my first month there as awful as possible. Then one day we were partnered up for a nature walk and we realized that we actually got along really well. And just like that we were friends. For three years it was the two of us and one other girl. Our little trio of friendship.

For those of you that are parents or teachers you know very well that a trio is bad news, cause one person always gets left out. Sometimes her, sometimes me, sometimes the one other girl. There were lots of fights, one HUGE fight that had none of us speaking to each other for a whole week. Which in elementary school time might as well be a decade. But we patched things up and we were a trio again.

Then in the sixth grade the trio went back down to two when the one other girl moved away. And it was back to just me and her for about a month, then she turned the tables on me and became that nasty third grade girl again. We became friends again the last half of sixth and through seventh then we both transferred to different schools and we lost touch.

That was seventeen years ago. And I remember it all so clearly now. But for some reason I forgot about all that bullshit when I wrote her a message. It's not that her response was mean spirited or anything. She didn't call me an asshole. But it was just weird. And now I almost regret having sent her a hello.

Maybe she gets a yucky feeling when she thinks of me? Maybe it is similar to the one I feel now. But to be honest we both did our share of being nasty. Neither one of us is innocent in the case of "her vs. me : who was meaner". Though I tend to lean towards her.

I don't know what I was thinking or what I was expecting to gain from saying hello. I guess I just was so surprised to see her name and picture there that I typed before I thought. And it makes me kind of sad. I want to be able to forget about all that shite. I mean, I practically did. And I can. But it seems that she hasn't or isn't interested.

I just don't understand how the way your were in elementary school should brand you as the type of person you are as an adult. I am not the same little girl from school. But maybe that is her permanent picture of me. Just as the way she was then; smart, (like throw the curve on math tests smart) loved dogs and chewed with her mouth open, is my current and only picture of her. But I am willing to replace it.

I am all about out with the old, in with the new. I just hope she feels the same.

Sleepy Time

2008-04-24T10:11:00.000-07:00

I did something today that is completely against my religion.

I went jogging at 6 am.

And now I am feeling the wrath of that sin. I am so tired. Like really tired. The kind of tried where I am so sleepy I feel like I am on drugs.

**Excuse me while I unhinge my jaw like a snake so I can let out the biggest yawn ever.**

Okay, I'm back.

The only remedy for such exhaustion is intervenes caffeine. Which isn't really an option. So I am just drinking it. And the rush can't come soon enough.

When I went outside it was freezing. Let me explain that I have lived in Los Angeles all of my life so cold to me is 60. This morning it was 49. So in my world that's friggen freezing. I started out and I could feel my body resisting.

If my body could talk I imagine this is what our conversation would have sounded like...

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Don't worry about it body. It's all good. We're just going for a jog.

"Yeah but, what time is it? hold on , it's...it's like 6 am! we can do this later"

Nah, let's do it now. Then it's done.

"No no no no no"

Yes.

"Wait. Stop. We don't jog. Come on we can talk about this"

Shhhhh. You're breaking my concentration.

"Alright fine. Shush me if you must but you'll pay for this"

Am I ever! I am not sore or anything. Just stupid tried. And this coffee is taking it's sweet time kicking in.

A lesson in Economics...

2008-04-21T17:25:00.000-07:00

...from a crazy man at the bank.

I went to the bank to deposit my unemployment check today and the man in front of me explained why it is that our economy is "shit" (his words not mine). So I thought I would share cause I am sure you are all wondering why.

Let's get the picture set up for you...

I walked in and there were two lines. The regular line to see a teller and then the express line. The express line is for customers with only one transaction. It is always ridiculously long. And today was no exception. It seems to me that it really doesn't matter if I have one transaction or three. I wait the same amount of time regardless of what line I am in. So I opted for the regular line.

As I stood there this man in front of me started mumbling something about "what the hell blah blah blah all dees women" I paid no mind. But then he said it again, a little louder and looked at me and said "you agree no?" "I'm sorry?" I say.

(The man had a very heavy accent. He tells me he is from Botswana or it might have been Zimbabwe either way, he comes from Africa.)

He says " You know that the reason the economy is shit is because of you women" Giving him the benefit of the doubt I assume I have misunderstood him cause of his big ol accent. He didn't say that, who would say that?

"Come again?" I say. He repeats himself. Nope, I was wrong that IS what he said.

"The reason why the economy is shit is because of you women." He points at me and then to all of the bank tellers who happen to be all women too. He tells me that if women were at home having babies like they are supposed to, then the economy would be better because businesses wouldn't have to pay them. Too many women are working and there isn't enough money to pay them. He says that women only get jobs because they are bored and that they wouldn't be bored if they just stayed home and took care of their babies like they are supposed to. Women are bleeding the economy dry.

I am too opinionated for my own good so I replied " well bills don't pay themselves so what do you expect?"

He didn't even pay attention to my reply and went on to say that yes women were the reason the economy is bad but men are the reason that society is bad. Men need jobs more than women do because if they are not working they result to theft and violence. So in turn that's all women's fault too. They take jobs away from men. Shame on women.

Oh, okay then.

Thanking my lucky stars a window opened and he walked away. But the teller had already said she would help the next person in the express line. So when he got up to her she said she was sorry but she was helping someone else.

He then came back in line and told me how the reason the teller helped the other person and not him was because.......wait for it.....

He was a black man.

I wanted to tell him that wasn't true but he was too busy preaching to the bank as loudly as he could " You see everyone! You see! I am a black man and she won't help me!"

Thankfully during his speech it was my turn. I made my deposit and left as quickly as I could.

So ladies, I hate to break it to you but it's all our fault that we're going into a recession and that our country doesn't have any money. We should be ashamed of ourselves!

Class dismissed.

No More Muffin Top

2008-04-14T10:53:00.000-07:00

I have now been on Weight Watchers for Eight weeks. It has been really easy at times and crazy hard at others. I have lost close to 10 pounds in the time since I have joined. Which doesn't sound like a lot but I guess it is. I think because I see my body everyday I can't see any changes. Even though I know there are.

I wanted some kind of proof yesterday, other than a number on a scale, that I am really ten pounds lighter. So I did what any girl obsessed with loosing weight would. I grabbed my fat pants. (The pants that were too tight and thus was my sign that WW was in order) and put them on.

Much to my surprise they totally fit. I pulled them up as easily as a hot knife goes through butter. And there wasn't anything hanging out the sides either. And I didn't have to do squats to stretch them out. And I didn't have to hold my breath to zip them up. I could even pull them away from by belly a little.

* Insert HUGE sigh of relief*

So this diet thing really is working. Even though it isn't really a "diet". It's just learning how to eat better and make smarter choices. Though sometimes it feels like a diet when I drive by the In-N-Out and it smells like heaven. And my tummy starts calling out "French Fries?" in a Sloth from "The Goonies" like inflection.

But there is nothing at In-N-Out that will taste as good as it feels to fit into previously too tight pants.

Local Disco

2008-04-10T13:56:00.000-07:00

They have put in a new Starbucks a few blocks away from my apartment. Matty and I like to walk there and sit outside and have our drinks. We usually go on Sunday.

So we went this past weekend. It was beautiful out. The sun was shining. Birds were chirping. My iced coffee was yummy. We were just talking and being silly and enjoying the quiet of the city on a Sunday.

Then this old old man came riding up on his bike. It looked like he had put parts from ten different bikes all together to make his. There was this rear view mirror and a basket and a ringy bell thingy. He even had this small speaker on the handle bars so he could play music without headphones. It was hooked up to a Sony discman that was in the basket. The bike had a banana seat and reflectors. It was totally tricked out.

So he went inside, got a coffee and a paper and sat down at the table next to us. He turned to fidget with his discman and then began to play THIS SONG as loudly as he could. FOR REALS.
Then when it was over he played it AGAIN. And then AGAIN!

I swear, the street corner we sat on was a mirror ball short of being a disco. "Do the hustle!"

Now I ain't got nothin' against Celine. But I never in a million bazillion years would pick that as what this weird man on a bike would listen to. I was thinking he would be more the Hank Williams type. Or Dan Fogelberg. But Miss Dion? And not only Miss Dion, but that song?

We could barley contain our laughter. I almost choked on my iced coffee. You would think I was making this up but I am not. I'm clever, but I ain't that clever.

So after the third time of playing the one song he went on to play more Celine and we walked home to play guitar hero.

No Celine on there guaranteed.

Me, My Haircuts and I

2008-04-01T10:31:00.000-07:00

I went and got a fantastic hair cut today. I have been going to the same person for almost three years. He's wonderful and funny and knows what he's doing. Every time I go, I leave feeling like I have Gisele Bundchen hair. Full of body with long layers. I feel like I should turn my head from side to side saying "Oohh, Ahhh, Don't hate me because I'm beautiful"

I am so thankful that I have finally found that place that does the best job. I have never left in tears or come home to find that a huge mistake had been made. But I have had my share of those experiences. I think I have earned a bronze metal in "worst hair cuts of all time".

I have had more than a few but this is going to be the cliffnotes version. Only the best of the worst. Let's review shall we?

One of the worst haircuts I ever had was when I was fourteen. My mom took me to the local eight dollar haircut place called MagicCuts. Having just seen "reality bites" I wanted my hair to look like Winona Ryder's but a little longer.

I sat in the chair and the lady handed me a book called "The Various Looks of Carol Brady"(not really but it should have been called that) with five choices of styles. Cuts numbers 1 through 5. I didn't like any of them. One because I had some taste and two it was 1994 not 1974.

I asked for a cute cut al la Winona but asked it to come at my jaw line. She asked how I parted my hair I told her usually to the side but I wanted my hair to just fall however. She said she was only asking out of curiosity.

The cut took all of twenty minutes which should have been my second clue (the book of cuts should have been the first) I asked for a blow dry because she was fully prepared to send me on my way with a soaking wet head. Seriously she couldn't get me out of her chair soon enough. It was as if she was looking for an ejector button. "That will be fifteen dollars". Too pricey for us at the time. We passed.

My mom and I got home and I went strait to the bathroom to dry my hair myself. As I brushed it out of the side part it was put in I noticed that something was off. I figured it was because it was wet and I had just cut six or so inches off of my hair. Unfortunately no. That was not the reason. It was because...The lady had cut my hair into a side part. When I brushed it out one side was a good four inches longer than the other. Visualize this : one side coming right under the ear and the other right under the jaw.

I cried for hours. Being a freshmen was hard enough but add to that the embarrassment of going to school with terrible hair? I would sooner die.

It all made sense that she wouldn't dry my hair because she probably knew she messed up. My mom helped me style it so it actually looked decent. But that cut took about eight months to grow out. Needless to say we stopped going there.

The second worst was when I was nineteen and my friend thought it would be fun to cut my hair. She assured me that she had done it a million times before and that she cuts every bodies hair, even her own. Her hair looked good so I let her, and how do you tell your friend. "I think you're coo coo for coco puffs there's no WAY you are cutting my hair?" When it was done it looked fine. Or so I thought.

I went to work the next day and while we were in line at the commissary somebody said "oh my God Hannah, what happened to your hair?!?!" I went to the bathroom and the back of my hair looked like a seismograph reading. It was totally uneven. longer by the shoulders and short towards the middle. OY! I had to go get EIGHT inches cut off of my hair to make it look half way decent. I should have just taken a risk at making her mad and said no because she either really was coo coo, or she did it with her eyes closed. Oh and PS, I never told her that it was uneven. I felt too bad. About a year later she asked if I wanted her to cut my hair again. I politely said no thanks. Like V says, "Never again".

Thankfully I have learned my lesson and not put myself in those kinds of situations anymore. But what fun is it to painfully learn lessons if you can't share them with others and have a laugh?

Say it isn't so!

2008-03-27T09:30:00.000-07:00

I usually don't post too much about the pop culture world. But this is something that needs to be said.

I am so sad!

Last night my AI boyfriend Chikezie got the boot. I couldn't believe it. He's so good. But I guess not everyone thought so. Though I find that hard to believe. Cause he is so good! He was robbed I tell you! Robbed!!!

Not only is he talented but he's such a sweetheart. He is like a giant teddy bear. Oh my gosh and his parents? Talk about even cuter. I just loved all of them.

I can't believe that whatsherface girl who sang a country version of "8 days a week" is still around and that other girl who "says" she's "24". is still there too; but my Chikezie is gone. I didn't think he was going to win the whole thing but I did think he would have stuck around for a little bit longer. phooey.

Oh and, P.S, if that girl on the show is "24" then I am in a very serious and deeply committed relationship with Johnny Depp. I'm just sayin' is all.

I see London. I see France...

2008-03-25T09:40:00.000-07:00

...what's with people not wearing underpants?

It's like this new fashionable trend. (Thanks a heap Lindsay and Paris.) I must have missed the issue of InStyle that stated "No panties is the look of today!"

Even if I did read that, I still would wear my undies with pride. I was scarred from a very young age. In the third grade I went to school one day with no underwear on (why I have no idea) and in class a boy looked up my dress. He told all his friends, told my teacher and told my mom. He got in trouble for being a pervert and I got in trouble for being stupid. I remember my mom even saying to me "You're a lady. Ladies always wear their panties". Lesson learned.

Now there are those very few times when it is perfectly appropriate to not wear any, one, on laundry day when everything is in the wash and two, when you are wearing pants that are tight and you don't want any lines showing. Those are the only two exceptions. Maybe there are more but those are the only two for me.

But for some reason these young girls of today think it's fine to wear skirts and dresses commando style. For example, I went to the cheese cake factory for dinner last week and this girl bent down to adjust her (hooker) boot and there was her booty for the whole restaurant to see. Classy.

What kind of a message is this going to send the even younger girls of today? Last time I checked being a floozy wasn't a prerequisite for college. Is this what our society has come to? Painting the picture that it's sexy and flirty to present yourself that way? I just find it so totally inappropriate and utterly tasteless.

The day is fast approaching that I will become my grandmother and talk about "when I was a kid..." and turn my nose up at all the kids outfits and scold them for being trashy. Though I don't think I could do it to their faces. I would let my inner monologue do the talking but say nothing. My grandma on the other hand hated all of my fashion choices and never missed an opportunity to tell me so.

For example my graduation dress was on the shorter side. It wasn't too short by any means and I did wear underpants. But when she saw it she commented on it being cute but then quipped, "where's the rest of it?"At the time I thought that she didn't know anything about fashion. So I blew it off. But now that I think about it, is her reaction to my "short" dress the same as mine to people who don't wear panties?

Am I not cool anymore? Have I missed the magic mushrooms on this trend? I don't feel like I am old and I certainly don't feel like I don't know about fashion. But for the love of Prada, what is with kids today?!?! Get your hair out of your face and put your panties on!

My grandma may have disliked my wardrobe but I never (not since the one time, and I was eight years old) worn a skirt or a dress with nothing on under it. None of my friends have either. Because we are ladies, and ladies, as my mother told me; always wear panties.

Happy Easter Everyone

2008-03-23T11:12:00.001-07:00

Square peg, round hole.

2008-03-22T15:46:00.000-07:00

I tend to be very zen when it comes to letting stuff get to me. I am not easily flustered, or angered or stressed. I can healthily deal with my emotions. I have always been able to look at a situation I am in and understand it. Process the emotions it is making me feel, take the lesson learned and move on.

But this thing that happened to me on Thursday has left me with a sadness that I don't know what to do with. I don't know how to process it. And I don't know how to move on from it because I am still so confused. I have no closure. I have nothing to help me get through this but my assumptions. I have no real information. I have nothing but the words that were said and the reason I was given. A reason that is so vague, so bizarre and contradicting.

In a nut shell, I was laid of from my job on Thursday. But it was not because of budget cuts, poor job performance, the company closing, the position no longer being needed, or anything else in the world that it a reason for being laid off. They simply said that they don't think I am "Happy" with my job and that me and the company are not a good fit for one another.

When I asked what the problem was they said they couldn't give me a real reason other than it being a personality thing. Me and the company were like "a square peg and a round hole". I asked if I was annoying, they said no. I asked if I was rude, they said I could never be. I asked if it was simply not being liked and they said, no that they adore me.

WHAT THE F#$@ IS IT?

They wouldn't say. They won't say. I have got nothing. It was like being dumped. And I swear to you my boss even said "I hate to use the term but the best way to put it is 'it's not you it's me'" But she wanted to make sure I didn't take it personally. Because it really isn't anything I did wrong and there is nothing wrong with me. But if it was a square peg round hole issue then how do I not take that personally?

So that's it. That is my shit ass reason of a reason.

There is nothing worse than realizing you just wasted your time working for a bunch of assholes.

I cannot help but feel like there is something wrong with me. I know there is not, but this sadness that I feel is from genuinely feeling like a total looser, that I am incapable of doing anything right. And that I will never ever find a job that I love again. And if I don't have a job then who am I?

I know that had I not been in such a tough situation from getting laid off the first time and had I just stuck to my original plan of actually doing what it is that I really want to do; this never would have happened. I would not be here again. But I got so stuck in the mind set that I had to have a "real" job that I sold myself short and took the first job that was offered to me. Not because I wanted it but because I felt like I should.

I wish the end had been on my terms. I wish that I could have been the one to tell them that I was too good for that job. Because I know that I am. They don't deserve my time or my tears. Thought I did shed plenty of them.

So here I am unemployed, again. But at least I am not an asshole. And if having a job at that place means I need to be one, then I will take unemployment any day of the week.

That nasty little D word

2008-03-14T18:16:00.000-07:00

In February at my grandmothers 90th birthday party I wore a cute pair of jeans and a blazer. Not one of those fugly blazer's from the eighties where women looked like line backers. More like a cute high waisted one. Think Fashion week.

So I'm thinking I look great. I'm standing around with my cousins having a chat when my grandma gasps "Is that a baby in there?!?" while pointing at my belly. I quickly replied " Nope Gram, just a little chubby" " Oh" she says. She felt bad. But I told her that it isn't allowed to feel bad on your birthday.

Aside from a case of mistaken pregnant identity it was a really fun party.

A few weeks went by after the "Grandma Gasp Heard Round The World" and I didn't think anything of it, until I pulled out my "fat pants" to do some house cleaning. Everyone has a pair, they are the kind that are about four sizes too big full of holes and paint stains and it doesn't really matter what happens to them. So I pulled them up to my hips and noticed they were too tight. At first I thought I must have grabbed the wrong pair but then I looked closely at the faded label and they were indeed my "fat pants".

I thought of every excuse possible as to why they were a little....snug, snug is a good word. Maybe they shrunk, maybe I am just really full, I did just have a sandwich, maybe they weren't as big as I remember them being. No. It wasn't any of those reasons. It was because I have gained a few pounds in the last year. Okay, more than a few. Why God? Why?

I thought about how to handle the situation and four weeks ago I decided to join weight watchers . It's a pretty amazing program. I have lost 6 pounds in three weeks. Only 1,000,000,000 more to go.

The night of my BK boredom was very hard because I wasn't sure what I could have being on the points. And I am sure I looked like a total werido at my table with a nutritional guide and my points finder making all the various calculations of what food was how many points, how many did I have left, how many flex points could I use if I wanted french fries. Add add add. Looking at me you would think I was trying to solve the deficit in our country.

In the end (read: almost an hour) I chose to get a small onion rings and a Bk veggie burger with no mayo. For a grand total of 7 pts. Not bad considering I get 22 a day. Who knew that a salad at Bk was worse for you then a veggie burger or a whopper junior for that matter.

So I have been feeling good about myself. The pants are getting looser. I can see a difference. But then I was walking to my car the other day and this man cat-called out to me " God Damn Baby! You know you got it! You got that Junk in the trunk!" Ummmmm, Thank you? I guess.

I am still trying to decide whether I should be flattered or if it's a good thing I went on the diet. Maybe both.

Notes to self...

2008-03-08T13:25:00.001-08:00

Just a bit of information that I learned last week. I thought I would share it with all of you.

#1. Do not, under any circumstances, drink 16.9 fluid ounces of water and then go for a mile and a half walk. Somewhere between the third block walked in the neighborhood and the first mile, your bladder will begin to nudge you. And then by the end of the walk you can't get to a bathroom soon enough because you might wee yourself.

#2. When your ride home is running late and your office is closing so you can't stay there; choose to be picked up at Starbucks on a day when they are actually open. Apparent the one day my ride home was two hours away, was the same day that Starbucks decided to do "Espresso Renovations". Since when is espresso something that needs to be renovated? I do remember reading something about all Starbucks in the world being closed but I had forgotten. All I could seem to retain that day was water and salt.

#2, part 2. When the only other open place within walking distance for you to wait at is a Burger King, be prepared for the l-o-n-g-e-s-t two hours, ever. I was surprised at the number of people just chilling at BK with laptops. Yes, Burger king has WiFi now. Seriously. Hipsters with mac's and smarty-pants with Dell's. All these people just hanging at the BK. Maybe I wasn't the only one who didn't get the "Starbucks will be closed memo". But you know, there was heat, not so bad music and an endless supply of diet coke. Maybe I had unfairly judged Burger king. Still a very long two hours though.

#3. Never ask the production manager at work a question. She doesn't like anyone. So she won't answer anything. I mean, you can if you want to but you could also ask a magic 8 ball and get a better answer.

#4. Don't go to this Lost recap site at work unless you want to be caught going on the Internet. Cause you will start laughing out loud. But do go to it when you can. It's ridiculously funny.

Well kids that's all the little lessons I've got for this week. We'll see what I learn next week and I'll share.

My Favorite Tree...

2008-01-03T12:38:00.000-08:00

..is the tree that is just outside my door. It blooms in the winter. Usually around December the buds come up and by January first it is in full bloom. There is something really special about it to me.

I find it symbolic that it blooms in January. It's almost as if it is mother natures way of showing that with the new flowers a new year has come. A new chance for all of the things we hope for, a new chance to be positive. A new beginning. A fresh start full of possibilities.

Happy new year everyone. May this be the year that we all hope it to be.

xoxo

M.I.A.

2007-12-20T10:24:00.000-08:00

No I have not been abducted by aliens. Nor have I run off to Lake Como with George Clooney.
I have just been out of the blogging mood. Even though I love to blog. I guess you can say I have just been in a funk.

I started a new job but I quit after two weeks because it became abundantly clear that it was not something I wanted to invest my whole self into. And it was also a place where mistakes were not welcome and I cannot live like that.

You know, people make mistakes. That's how we learn how to do things. At least I learn that way. And this person I worked for for two weeks was too much of a control freak to let me learn how to do anything.

I have already been there. I already did that kind of job for the boss man and we all know how that turned out. The two weeks I worked was for a boss lady. And it wasn't easy.

I feel like I learned that lesson already. I don't want to go in circles. I don't want to keep making the same choices that get me in the same situations because it's easier. It is easier to take something that is simple and just busy work than it is to go after what I really really want.

But what is the point of doing anything if you don't want to do it? Why bother investing the time?

I know just what I want to do. I am just not doing it. I should be. I should have been for a while and I am not. Because I am scared.

What if what I really really want to do doesn't work out either? What if it sucks? What if I suck? What if I try and try and do my best and still nothing becomes of it? Then what? Where will I be then? I know that is just the risk that is taken when you set out on anything. That's part of the deal. You give it a go. You give it your all and hope for the best. Trust for the best.

I just feel so defeated. I left the boss man for a job that I loved so much and that didn't work out. Granted that was not any fault of my own. It was strictly because of money. But it still didn't work out.

So what if I set out on this adventure of going after what I really want and nothing happens? Nothing becomes of it? Where will I be then?

Going for it and failing is better then never trying and always wondering right?

I just have to jump in. Suck it up and jump. Maybe the water isn't as cold as I fear it is.

The first week

2007-11-30T12:18:00.000-08:00

My last day of work was the Wednesday before thanksgiving. It was really sad. I have never been laid off from a job that I loved so much. The feeling is on par with dating a man you completely adore. You think he adores you as well only to have him break up with you.

It's this confused/what the hell happened/is this really happening kind of feeling.

I was really anxious last weekend because I was not sure how I was going to feel come Monday morning. I have never NOT had a job before. But then Monday morning came and I was so grateful to not have to go to work after a pumpkin pie-mashed potato-turkey-stuffing-muffins-more pie-binge of a weekend.

I have to say, so far being unemployed is really fun. I watch T.V., go for walks, cook amazing dinners, go to the library. Sure it has only been a week but I think for the most part it is pretty great.

I am of course looking for work but with the strike and the holidays there isn't much going on. Darn, I guess I will just have to hang out a little longer.

And just like that.....

2007-11-06T13:26:00.001-08:00

...everything can change.

My new found happiness has been short lived by budget cuts. I was told this morning by my bosses that although I am incredibly hard working, wonderful to be around and very good at what I do, they can no longer afford me.

I guess they got the word from upstairs that our little project is quickly running out of money and positions need to be eliminated. Mine being one of them.

I should have known something was up. When I got to work today one of my bosses looked at me like she ran over my dog. She looked guilty. I don't know why, it wasn't her decision to cut me.

In our meeting they apologized and asked how I was doing. I was honest and said I was very bummed. That I wanted very badly to stay apart of this but that I understood it was nothing personal. They did say that they were trying very hard to get me onto a different project. So maybe all hope is not lost.

But as of now my last day is in two weeks. Fffuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

So there you have it.

I am still kind of shocked. It just came out of nowhere. That's it? It's just over now? I am supposed to turn in my parking place and proxy card and go?

I was so happy here. I so adored what I was doing. And now, it's done.

I know it is not the end of the world. And I know everything will work out. But will it work out the way I want it to is the question.

I keep looking for the lesson. The theme I am supposed to take from this. And I can't see anything. My mom once said that she didn't believe in the "everything happens for a reason" theory. And I agree. I don't think everything happens for a reason. I think crummy things happen and you make the best of it.

Sometimes good things can come of you making the best of a situation, but there isn't always a reason for it.

Coffee Break

2007-11-03T08:47:00.000-07:00

Good Lord, has it really been a month since I last posted?

It really is true that when you get a desk job there is a vortex of suck that happens. It just sucks the time and days away and blends the week in to one long blur. Friday morning I woke up and in my half sleep half awake mind I was pretty sure it was Monday. But that might not be because I was tired. I think it was cause I watched "Grey's Anatomy" and I am so used to watching that show on Sundays still. (On a side note, speaking of Grey's Anatomy...am I the only one who doesn't get the George and Izzy thing ? They're in love now? Say what? I dunno, I was kinda hoping maybe he would start dating Lexi. Okay oaky, no more Grey's talk. Sorry.)

Anyway, vortex of suck aside the new job is really really wonderful and I absolutely love it. I am over worked and underpaid and I could care less because for the first time I actually love what I am doing. It is an odd feeling.

So much has happened in the month that I haven't posted. But I feel like I owe those events their own post. So maybe cause it's Saturday and I have a day of nothing but laundry planed I can catch up.

8 Random Things

2007-09-28T10:23:00.000-07:00

I have been tagged by fellow blogger Linda (http://lindasphere.blogspot.com/) to list eight random things about me.

Here they are....

1. Chewing gum grosses me out. I hate chewing it. I also cant stand the sight of chewed up gum. Like when people stick it on their plates while they eat food? *insert dry heave*

2. One of my favorite movies of all time is Grease 2. Yeah I said it. It's all about "cool rider"

3. I am really good at doing "The Robot" I like to bust it out at least once a day. A great song to do the robot to is that new one by Timberland the way I are. Love Love love that song.

4. In case #s 2 and 3 didn't explain it enough.. I am a dork.

5. I have been to more countries than I have states. My favorite place in the whole world is Italy. My dream is to buy a house in Tuscany.

6. When I was in college my cat caught a baby possum. The possum was very badly injured. So I rescued it and nursed him back to health. He became my pet and I named him Peanut. I actually got him really domesticated. When he got bigger and I could no longer take care of him I gave him to the Zoo and he became the star of the animals and you show.

7. I love to sing but I am terrified of karaoke. I can sing in my car and at home like I am a rock star. But the second I get on stage for karaoke? Forget it. I turn into Michigan J. Frog.

8. I believe that someday the Cubs are gonna win the world series. Maybe this year?

Wow. That was hard.

:)

Go-Go

2007-09-27T15:44:00.000-07:00

It has been ages since I last posted.

My new job is wonderful but keeps me very very busy.

Here's something that I never knew I missed until I got it.....Co-workers. I worked with just the boss man for so long I forget how it is to work in an office full of people. Everyone is really cool. My bosses say thank you all the time. It's kinda weird. But it's nice to feel appreciated.

It 's a busy time here at the office so I might not be able to post as much as I did before. But I still hope to get is at least one a week.

Buh-Bye

2007-09-04T21:05:00.000-07:00

I never thought the day would come that I would type this....

I got a new job.

That's right kids! I no longer work for the boss man. It is such an odd feeling to be sitting here and thinking that I am not going to be going to that office tomorrow. I will not have to be calling him every hour to update him. I will no longer be put in a situation where he has made me have to run to the bathroom to "wash my hands" or in girl speak " cry".

It is just very very strange.

When I got the call last week that I got the job I was so happy. So happy. I was scared for a moment because I was not sure what the boss man would say when I told him I was leaving.

I had several different stories mapped out in my mind. In one he begged me to stay and offered me fifty dollars an hour and in another he would tell me I couldn't leave and I would say "watch me" and exit in a gone with the wind flourish. But nope it was nowhere near any of those two.

I felt bad calling him because one, he was on vacation (yes, vacation again. The man is always going on a vacation) and two the place that offered me a job asked if I could start in a week rather than the standard two. But he obviously had no loyalty to me when he cut my hours so I didn't feel too bad about hardly any notice.

I called him and he answered right away. I was very calm and very to the point. And he was actually bummed! I was listening to him say all this stuff like " I understand. Thanks for all you have done. You really have been great and I appreciate all you have done. It is going to be hard to replace you."

Say what????

That was on Thursday. And today was my last day.

One of our clients told me that whoever takes my place has some very large shoes to fill. I felt so happy to hear that. I don't know why but I really had wanted someone to say that about me. I guess it makes me feel validated.

Today felt much like the last day of school. I got my desk cleaned out. I went through old piles, wrote good bye emails to all of our clients, I turned in my keys. I was standing in the boss mans office at the end of the day and I told him that it felt weird that I was not going to be working there anymore. He said he thought it was weird too.

He told me he had a gift for me before I left. It was a very beautiful clock. I was surprised. He didn't have to get me anything. But it was a very sweet gesture. I said thanks for the gift and gave him a hug and walked out the door down the stairs to my car and didn't look back.

I am done. The Boss Man is no longer the boss man. He's now just the man I used to work for.

So tomorrow I start at my new job. I am pretty excited.

Yeah for me. :)

Is it hot in here?

2007-08-29T20:38:00.000-07:00

A few years ago I was hanging out with my brother in law and I asked him about whatever happened to one of his ex girlfriends. Shocked that not only did I remember her, but that I rememberd her name he declared that I have a memory like a bear trap and swore he would never tell me anything again.

He was teasing of course about not ever telling me anything again. But not about the memory like a bear trap. That part he meant, and it is actually quite true. I have this ability to remember facts, trivia, events. Everything. That is probably why I always did so well in school.

Now with that said, one would think being that I was born and raised in Southern California I would remember how fricking hot it gets here. But no, each year it comes as such a surprise. More like a giant offence than a surprise if I am going to be honest.

Seriously. Last year it was record heat. It was so hot that our building blew a breaker and we had no power for three days. We stayed at my aunts house. It was hot like that until mid September. How could I forget that?

I remember that really well. But for some reason, I am still caught off guard every summer.

"Where did this heat come from? WTF?" Ohhh yeah, it's August.

Today was the worst. I was driving all over town doing various runs for the boss man and even though I had on the air I still felt as though my car could have doubled as an easy bake oven. Mmmm, baked goods....

I like warm weather but I don't like this ridiculously-hot-I-can-feel-my-thighs-rubbing-together-heat. You know, the kind of heat where it feels like your entire body has swelled two times it's size?

As I sit here having just gone swimming it is now almost 9 PM and 98 degrees. Say What?
And tomorrow is supposed to be hotter. OY! Hopefully I won't evaporate.

I hear that it is hot like this all over. I know we are all in it together. So because of that I wish you all the AC, shaved ice and swimming pools in the world.

xoxo

I invented post-its.

2007-08-25T19:39:00.000-07:00

I went to a store in the mall the other day. I made my selection and headed towards to register. The line was pretty long but being that it was a Saturday it was to be expected.

I am not sure about you but sometimes it is very hard not to eavesdrop on people standing in front of you. Especially when the people in front of you are very hipper teenagers. They were talking about the usual stuff. "So-n-so wore this dress to senior portraits that made her ass look fat but I guess its no big deal cause they only take a picture of your face. " but I will leave out the part where every other word was " Like, Whatever, and OMG" I guess teens these days don't even say the phrase anymore. It is only the abbreviation. Ah the age of the text message.

Anyway, as I stood behind these girls I was overcome by such relief that I no longer am a teenager. I am grown and passed all that bullshit. Not that being a teen is BS, it is just that when you get well into your twenties you realize how petty things were way back then.

I left the mall feeling pride that I was now a grown up. I have a car that I bought with my own money, I have my very own apartment, I no longer have to beg my older sister to buy me Boone's, I am no longer drinking Boone's, I can hang out as late as I want to, and I am going on a really great job interview next week for a fantastic position.

When I got in my apartment I picked up the mail and saw something had been delivered to me from a place with the word "reunion" in the return address. I opened it to see that it was an invitation to my high schools TEN YEAR REUNION. Oh firjoles, it's been ten years???

I read about where it was going to be and when.

" ohh that's plenty of time to loose 300 pounds"

But then I pulled out the questionnaire. And I had a moment of panic. The questions where the norm, "where do you work?" "what are your kids names?" And I suddenly felt that pride that I had just a moment ago disappear like it was never even there.

What have I been doing?

I certainly do not want to list that I am an assistant for a living. Even though I am pursuing greater things, I just have this job so I can go pursue those things and live a comfortable life with DH. But there is not a " I work here but, ____________" section on the questionnaire. There should be.

I am in no way ashamed of where I am in my life and of how I have spent these ten years since I graduated high school. I am just surprised at how quickly the time went by. And how although I have been going after my dreams I still feel so far away from them. They still feel like a daydream. The same daydream that I had my senior year.

I know that things take time so I have all the confidence that it will all work out. I just wish it had worked out sooner.

I say I don't care what people think and I genuinely don't but for some reason, and I feel so shallow for even saying this, I wish I had something really amazing to say for the questions.
How lame is that?

If I believe that my answers are amazing then that's all that matters right? And I have nothing to prove to anyone. I am only trying to prove things to myself. And there is nothing to even prove. But for some reason I still feel like I do.

It's funny how time sneaks up on you.

And now for Vol 2.

2007-08-21T14:16:00.001-07:00

Oh that pesky boss man!

Today I was thrown into work chaos much like an ant is when in a sink and the water has been turned on. It felt more chaotic then it probably was because I was left to deal with it all alone. The boss man was very busy and couldn't be bothered.

I was not sure what to do. Even though I knew he was busy I called in a panic around 10 am. Something dreadful occurred that was not any fault of mine (thank God for that) in the middle of my explaining I was cut off by him saying...

"Can you make this quick? I am in the middle of a golf lesson"

I am so sorry, I forgot how fast paced and involving golf is.

When I told him it was important he allowed me to speak for about a half a second but cut me off to interject that this was of course, my fault. So thus it was up to me to fix it. Gotta love his logic.

I think that's what people have assistants for, to be able to not own up to anything. Blame it on the assistant. Much like a child blames a dog for breaking precious china. When it was really them who was playing ball in the house when they were told repeatedly not to. Just like the boss man, he leaves out important information and when he discovers that I am in no way a mind reader, it is my fault for not knowing what he wanted.

The day finished fine and I left to go visit my sister who had her baby a few days ago. He called twice in an hour while I was there to get pissy with me. But it was short lived cause he stopped himself to listen to me and say my favorite phrase ever " Ohhh, okay. yeah you're right."
Can I have that embroidered into a pillow?

Today has been better. Knock on wood. I am keeping myself busy with all of the little things that need to be done. So hopefully he won't find something to blame on me or make me feel badly about.

Duped...

2007-08-14T10:37:00.000-07:00

I have been going to the gym everyday for two weeks. I am doing my best to get in shape for my trip in a few months.

I go for an hour, four times a week. 30 minuets on the treadmill and 30 minutes of abs and weights. I have not noticed any results. But it has only been two weeks. Hopefully I can get the fifteen pounds I have gained this year off in three months time.

Yesterday I am doing some rowing weights. Three sets of twenty and this a guy comes up and starts to do the rowing machine across from me. He say hello. We have a chat.

"It's Monday and I am exhausted." " Me too. " Blah blah.

Some how the topic of me going on a trip in a few months comes up and that I don't want me legs rubbing together at the beach. And he says "Well you are in luck, I'm a personal trainer"

God Damn it! He totally tricked me! And before I knew what I was doing I was signing up for a free session tomorrow. I told him I am not in the market for a trainer. But he said it's free.

I am just dreading it. I do want to get into better shape, I do want to loose the pounds I have gained. But it is just hard for me to have someone else know all the faults of my body. I would rather go get a root canal then have some kid tell me how I am 9,500% body fat and need to loose 70 pounds. I also don't want to be told how I should really consider the great thing I will be doing for my body if I pay for some sessions with him.

Uhhhgggg! How did I get myself into this?!?

The Sillys

2007-08-03T21:17:00.000-07:00

As I write this I am ever so slightly inebriated.

I am not sure how this happened. I rarely drink. Nor am I ever drunk. So this is some what of a surprise to me but I am rather enjoying it. I cannot stop laughing.

Cider is my friend. Hornesbys. Mmmmmm tastes like college.

I have taken pictures because "Drunk Hannah" is an urban legend. I will post one when I am a bit more coordinated.

I flove everyone.

STBY

2007-07-25T10:29:00.000-07:00

When I leave a message for a friend or send an e-mail and they don't get back to me I do not take it personally. If I call them and invite them somewhere and they are not interested in going I may give them shit for it but in a totally loving way. And again I don't take it personally.

I have this friend who sends e-mails to me and others all day. All day. About bullshit. I usually don't reply because I don't know what to say. I understand that he is just bored and that he probably doesn't care what I say just as long as I reply. But if I don't reply he gets so upset. As if it is an attack on his person.

He sent us (me and a few other friends) an e-mail on Monday asking if we would go with him to place in the neighborhood that was having a trivia night. I usually don't like to go. Don't get me wrong I am a totally pop culture nerd. I kick ass at trivia whenever I play. But I don't like to go to the bar where he goes. It is just not my scene. And he loves the place. Love love loves it. He always wants to go there. Only there. And that's fine we all have our favorite places.

But he sent this snarky e-mail saying "Thank You" for replying, which none of us did (apparently I was not the only one with no interest in going) and that we were lame. Then he leaves us this message that he doesn't know if we are out of town or something and to please call him back to let him know we are okay.

I am sure that part of it really is that he wants to know if we're alright but I think it is mostly because he hates it when he is not a part of something or not invited to something that we are.

On occasion we will be in the city with some friends getting dinner or coffee and he will call and ask what we are doing. When me or Dh tells him he gets irritated and says " you should have called me. I would have come"

I guess I am irritated because I would not do the things he does to my friends. I would not put then in uncomfortable situations where they feel like they HAVE to go someplace I invited them to. Nor would I just invite myself out with someone. And I would not send out a nasty e-mail scolding people for not wanting to go with me to a bar.

If it was an invitation to a catered event I would understand the frustration. But it's a bar for fucks sake. A bar that specializes in hot wings none the less. I hardly consider that a RSVP situation.

I just want to scream at him. There is so much more important shit he could be whining about.

I was tempted to write him back and saying that I would give him something to cry about followed by a list of links to news stories about all the shit that is going on. Real shit that is worth getting upset about.

Yes Yes I know it is all relative. But it still bothers me. I just can't get my head around it. And I try to be patient with him and understand where he is coming from but it is very difficult.

Maybe it is from all of my years as a pre-school teacher that I have no patients for narcissism. I expect that behaviour from children. But a grown man?

I guess it takes all kinds.

How to piss off your assistant Vol. 1

2007-07-18T14:17:00.000-07:00

Last Monday The Boss Man asked me to plan a lunch for some of our clients for the following Thursday. I was happy to do so as I am a whiz at planing. And any excuse to play on the Internet is good enough for me.

I spent most of Monday searching restaurants near the clients offices. I found one that I really liked. It is a tiny chain that has two restaurants in the city. I had never been to this particular one but I had been to the other one. I felt it was both in a nice setting and had a good menu. I sent everyone their itinerary on Tuesday morning including the boss man.

Thursday morning arrived. I was very excited. I had never been on a "Business Lunch" before. I woke up early to straiten my hair and put my face on. I put on a very cute top and my skinny jeans. I looked very business sexy. I even wore heels. Something I never do for work.

I got into the office and called the restaurant to confirm our reservation. Then I called the boss man to let him know that everything was set. He then said that he wants to carpool. He will come pick me up down stairs at noon. I personally thought that it was cutting it too close to drive across town at noon when our reservation was at 12:30. I had planed on leaving at 11:45.
But he insisted that leaving at noon would be fine.

Alright then. Not going to argue.

At 11:55 he calls me to say that he will no longer be picking me up. He will meet me at the restaurant. Okay fine. It might have been awkward to drive with him anyway. I get in to my car and start to drive.

12:01 my phone rings. It is the boss man asking if I have left yet. I say that yes I am driving.
"Okay good" he says and hangs up.

12:03 phone rings . The boss man again. This is our actual conversation. I swear on all my smashbox make up that this is in no way or form an exaggeration.

He tells me, as I am driving mind you; that he doesn't like the restaurant I have picked and wants me to change it to a place that is a Little closer. I told him that I have no idea where else to go or how to even begin to change a lunch that is set to start in less than a half an hour. He tells me to call everyone and to meet at that restaurant we all went to last time.
I tell him that I have no idea where they went last time because I was not invited so I did not go. He says " It's on the same street as them. I dunno it's named after a boxer or something"

HE CAN'T BE SERIOUS.

I don't say anything. That is usually my reaction when I am stunned by someone. Be it by their stupidity, rude behavior or unbelievable actions. In this case all of the above. He keeps saying hello thinking we have been disconnected I say hello back and he says "well?" I was ready to scream at him.

IS HE FUCKING KIDDING ME?

I said to him that I honestly have no idea what to do. I am driving for one and for two it is too short notice to change everything that has been planed since Tuesday. I asked him why didn't he read the e-mail I sent him and why didn't he try to change this sooner. He tells me that he didn't actually read the e-mail until just then.

What the F#$%ing F#$% is the point of all the e-mails I send if you are not going to read them.

This time I really didn't say anything. How could I? Anything that came out of my mouth would most likely have started with a four letter word or some kind of phrase insulting his manhood and that would have been the end of my job. I was speechless. In every definition of the word.
He says never mind and that he will take care of it. We get off the phone.

12:11 he calls. Forget it. We will go to the place I picked. Then he says "Next time you should plan a little better" Click.

Me? Me plan better?!? @#$%! @#$%! @#$%! @#$%! @#$%!

I was stuck in the worst traffic of all time. I was less than half way there and had fifteen minutes to get there. I was so pissed off that I just about started to cry. I could feel me hands shaking. And to add insult to injury I was going to be miserably late. I hate being late.

12:17 phone rings. Who could it be? You get three guesses and the first two don't count.
Yep it's The boss man again calling to yell at me for being late. I tell him I am doing my best but traffic is horrible. He says "You should have anticipated and left earlier. Get here ASAP" Click.

12:20 Phone rings. " Where are you? This looks awful. You can't be late to these things! How can you still be driving!? Hurry up and get here." Click.

12:25 my phone rings yet again. Guess who? Same rant as above.

The only place I could find parking was three blocks away. It was 12:40. I had no choice but to start running. Have you ever run in heels before? It is not even real running. It's like hooker running. Leaping actually. And to make matters worse this was just two days after my lunge and squat fiasco (see previous post) . So not only was I running in heels which was painful enough I had to run on my stiff as a concrete wall legs.

I finally managed to hobble into the restaurant limping, purple and sweating at 12:45 . All my pretty makeup was sweated off. My hair was all frizzy. I was anything but graceful. But I made it. Thank God. And everyone loved the restaurant. They even had me order for everyone cause I had picked it. "What a great place" "Oh this food is amazing!" "How ever did you find this place" 'Well I will definitely come here again"

HA! Take THAT boss man. Bad restaurant my sweaty behind! Ha Ha HA!

It took everything in me to not jump on the table doing my "Told you so" dance.

I felt so good about myself for the clients being happy. And hearing them sing my praises in front of the boss man made my blistered feet and sweated off make up totally worth it. AND
lunch was delicious. The drive back to the office was cake.

I got back before he did. I was checking e-mails and faxes when he came in. He stood by my desk and apologized for yelling at me. He said he felt I didn't plan very well and I picked a restaurant that was too inexpensive. He thinks I made us look like cheap skates. Next time pick a better place. He also said he wasn't so sure the clients liked it. I said it seemed like they did. But he argued he was not so sure.

I thought it went great. But what do I know? I am just the assistant.

I was totally right BTW. I got several e-mails the following day thanking me for a lovely afternoon and for picking such a great place to go for lunch.

I think that a "Told you so" dance is long over due.

Pain...Agony......Suffering.

2007-07-12T11:04:00.000-07:00

I am a ninny.

Things at work have been very slow because it is summer time. They were particularly slow on Monday. I would look at my watch and then sit some more. Thinking to myself that for sure an hour had passed I would look at my watch again only to see that it had been twenty minutes. Seconds just dripped by like the last few drops of honey coming out of a jar.

In my boredom I read some blogs, Google earthed all of my friends houses and played Cubis 2 on yahoo games. When that got old I looked at the on line sales. J-Crew, Blue Fly and Victoria Secret. By one o'clock I felt like all I had been doing all day was just sitting. I am not sure why I got the idea I got and why I decided to actually do it. I think there were a few factors.

One, I felt so Ginormous in comparison to the models that were featured in the Victoria Secret on line catalog. They don't look they way they do by sitting around now do they?

Two, I was having my "cycle". For you gentlemen readers, when we ladies are having that we are very very sensitive. We for some reason gain fifty thousand pounds. This fifty thousand pounds may not be visible to you. But we can see it. It's there. Trust us. We are also incapable of reason. Yes those models are air brushed and don't really look that way, but we still want to look like that anyway.

Three, I was so so so bored. And I was beginning to loose all feeling in my ass. Well what, if any kind of ass I have. It is a curse. Us white girls really have no ass at all. I call it white girl booty.

So I got up and started to move around my office. I began by just pacing. Just to get some kind of movement. Then my bright ( stupid ) idea came.... "I'll do some lunges and squats". I did about twenty of each. Twenty squats, twenty lunges. It was hard but it didn't feel like I did anything too strenuous.

The next day however was an entirely different story. I think the phrase shear agony would accurately paint the picture of the feeling I had when I got out of bed. Jesus God in Heaven, twenty lunges did this to my body?

It was so incredibly painful to even walk to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I thought I might have pulled something but no, I am just that out of shape. Good lord.

Work was even worse. My office is up a few flights of stairs. No elevator either. So each step went like this " One......Two......Thhhreeeeeeeeeeeeee ohgodohgodohgod" Same with sitting and standing. It was pretty bad Tuesday and Wednesday. It was the kind of pain where you can't help but start laughing ever time you feel it.

Today has been much much better. Thank God. I don't think I will be doing any more lunges any time soon. Yes I want a nice behind but not if getting it means I will have to walk the way I have been for the past two days. I was hobbling around like I had wet myself. And all the people stares? Forget it.

I think I will just keep the hand I was dealt in the booty department.

Tag!

2007-07-09T10:31:00.000-07:00

I have been tagged by fellow blogger Epoch[z] to play the tag game. It sounds like great fun. I just hope I can think of both eight interesting things about myself and eight people to send this to. Before I begin here is how it works...............

The Rules: "Each person posts the rules before their list, then they list 8 things about themselves. At the end of the post, that person tags and adds links to 8 other people and then visits those peoples' sites. Leave a note in their comments letting them know that they have been tagged, and to come read the post, so they know what they have to do."

Now that we all know how to play, here it goes.

1. I pick at my nails and cuticles. It is a very nasty habit and I have been trying to break it for what seems like forever. I am so envious of people who have nice clean manicured nails. I want to have them too. I even love looking at nail polish though I never buy any. I keep trying to stop. I know that eventually I will. At least I hope I can.

2. I know copious amounts of animal trivia. For example, Did you know that when a bird goes to the bathroom it is neither pee nor poo? It is a combination of both. Birds have only one opening called a Cloaca. I am a nerd like that.

3. My favorite treat in the whole world is French Fries. If forced to choose between never eating chocolate or fries ever again, I would have to choose chocolate. I could never ever give up my fries.

4. I have 11 nieces and nephews. All ranging in age from 18 to going to be born in two weeks. I think the world of them.

5. When I eat too much bread I get the hic-ups.

6. Ten years ago I was in a car accident that left me with two skull fractures, a back fracture, a neck fracture and a broken collar bone. How I managed to only have to stay in the hospital for three days and fully recover soon after is what medical science calls a miracle. I am eternally grateful for that.

7. My favorite flower is the Gerber Daisy. They are so beautiful and kind looking. The sight of them brings a smile to my face no matter what my mood may be.

8. When I was 13 I went to a U2 concert with my youth group advisor. She (some how) knew where they were staying so we waited outside their hotel to see if we could meet the band. And we totally did. Well half the band anyway. Larry Mullen Jr. and The Edge signed my concert program. No Bono for me. It's all good. I am sure we will meet someday. Maybe at the noble peace prize awards when he wins for saving the world. I will be nominated for trying to get everyone to care about animals as much as I do.

So there it is. My eight random naked banana trivia. Now here are the eight people I pick...

Alabaster Palace

Good Clean Fun

Mistaking Coincidence for Fate

I guess make that three . I can't think of anymore. All of the one's I would have chosen have already been tagged.

Whatchu Takin' Bout Willis?

2007-07-05T13:50:00.001-07:00

I am completely out of sorts today. With the holiday being on a Wednesday I am all confused. Tuesday felt like Friday, Wednesday felt like Saturday and today feels like Monday. It's like when you get spun and spun around again for a game of pin the tail on the donkey. All that spinning and you're expected to walk in a strait line and accurately pin the tail where God intended it to be.

I am in a similar situation. After spending all yesterday afternoon drinking Margaritas and eating the finest grilled food, I am expected to just wake up and come in to work like it is any other Thursday? Talk about a hard game.

Very Stupid Need Not Apply..

2007-07-03T12:59:00.000-07:00

I went on a job interview yesterday. My job that I have now has been more and more difficult lately. Or let me rephrase that, the boss man has been more difficult and I am exhausted thinking, blogging and talking about it . I have decided to be a doer, not a complainer and try to find a new job. I got a call yesterday from one of the places I submitted my resume to and they wanted to meet me. I went for the interview right after work.

It was at an in-home office. I was a little nervous going to a total strangers house. But I figured it was fine. It was in a nice enough neighborhood. I arrived a few minute early to prepare and as I was parking my car another car came speeding down the street. A trashy looking woman ( a prostitute most likely) jumped out of it before it even fully slowed down. She was all tore up and screaming.................

"Well F%&$ you then! You hear me!?! You can't touch me! Get outta here!"

Great, I am interviewing to manage the in home office for a pimp. I think my parents would be proud. Luckily the screaming lady just happened to jump out right there and didn't actually have anything to do with anyone on that street. She kind of hooker-hobbled her way to the bus stop after she dusted gravel from her body and her bag.

I walked up to the house and met with this very nice woman. She showed me the office and asked the usual "tell me about the job you have now" question. We were getting along great and
it seemed to be going fine until she asked me to take an I.Q. test.

Yes, that's what I said. An I.Q. test.

She handed me a test that could have doubled as an SAT and said " You have an hour". I was very surprised. I didn't want to take a test, nor did I feel it was appropriate to submit my brain STATS to a complete stranger. I wasn't really sure what to say or do. I didn't want to take this test. But I felt that I really need a new job, if I say no is the interview over?

I kept thinking just take the test, no biggie, you're smart. Then, wait, you want me to take an I.Q. test for a job where just five minutes ago outside your house a hooker was being thrown from a car? Niiiice.

I answered four questions before my senses kicked in and I though "What the eff am I doing?"
I told the lady that I wanted to stop. I told her I didn't want to do it. She asked if I strongly objected. I said that yes I did. That I found I.Q. tests to be culturally biased. And that I didn't understand how me taking this test would show what kind of employee I would be. If she wanted to know my aptitudes or problem solving skills then she should give me a scenario and I would tell her how I would solve it. I also told her that she could find out what kind of person I am much easier if she just asked me what she wanted to know.

She was cool with it and I didn't have to take the test. But I am pretty sure my refusal sealed the deal that I won't be offered the position.

I just couldn't help but think who in the world gives an I.Q. test at a job interview? Since when is being an office manager rocket science? I don't get it. But I guess it's like they say, it takes all kinds.

Alli Viene La Chota!

2007-06-27T13:42:00.000-07:00

I went to The Police on Saturday. It was great fun. The Foo fighters opened which was a nice surprise. I had heard that they were going to open but I thought it was just a rumor since I didn't see it any where on line.

The show was cool they played all their hits but they changed the arrangements on them so it was kinda cool but it was not as cool as it might have been had they just left the songs alone. I told Marvin that they should have named the tour "the blue balls" tour. Cause that's what they gave me, and I don't even have balls. But despite them changing their songs around it was still a really great show.

There were a lot of older people at there. Actually there were people of all ages. I am just glad that I was not one of the oldest people at a show this time. When DH and I went to Bloc Party a few months ago I felt like I was babysitting. So I must say it was nice to not stand out as the old girl at the show or the youngest girl at the show.

When I was looking around at all of the people who were also sitting in Top Deck with DH and me I wondered how old they were when they started listening to the police. They became popular right around the time I was born.

I remember being very little and watching MTV with my sister. Back when MTV showed music videos and not reality shows about stupid spoiled teenagers or people who get drunk and sleep with their roommates. I remember sitting on the living room floor and watching videos. One that stands out is The Police's "Wrapped around my finger" I used to think that it must have taken a very long time to light all of those candles.

When they played that song at the show the screens behind them had the candles from the video. It made me think of that moment, being little with my really cool big sister watching MTV.

When they played " Don't stand so close to me" (another one that they kinda messed up with a new arrangement) it made me think of Layla. My friend form high school.She had a huge, I am talking almost stalker potential huge, crush on one of the English teachers at our school. Some how she managed to become his teacher’s assistant. One day while he was teaching a lesson she sat at his desk and wrote all of the lyrics to that song on his desk calendar in big red ink. When asked by another teacher if she had a crush on him her reply was " the biggest, do you think he will go to prom with me?" I still laugh at that.

It's just interesting to me how music can hold such importance in someone’s life. I am not sure about any of you, but I know it does for me. Hearing a song can make me think of a moment, evoke part of my past; almost take me back in time. Some songs make me remember everything about that moment or time period. Sometimes it happens with smells but for me the most powerful is music. I didn't realize until I was at the show how many songs by the police did that for me. I guess I underestimated their influence on my childhood memories.

There are others who have made an impact on my memories. When ever I hear anything off of the album "Play" by Moby I think of Italy and my semester abroad, when I hear Telepop Musik "Just Breath" I think of the day DH asked me to marry him, when I hear "I ran" by flock of seagulls I think of driving in my dad's green datsun after ballet lessons, "Big Mouth" by the smiths I think of my sister and her friends playing it really loud while our parents were out. The list just goes on and on.

And it's not as though one can make a conscious effort to make a song a memory, I think it just kind of happens on it's own. Sometimes you don't even know until it has been years since you have heard the song and then out of nowhere it's on the radio and the time comes rushing back to you.

I know I am not the only one or maybe I am but what is one song that really stands out in your memories. What song takes you back when you hear it?

LMAO

2007-06-25T15:18:00.000-07:00

At this.....

While I was driving back from the Bank today there was a car in front of me with a very dirty back windshield. In the dirt someone had written:

"I WISH MY WIFE WAS THIS DIRTY"

It was so vulgar but so funny all at the same time. I tried to take a picture of it with my camera phone but it didn't come out at all.

It was too funny not to share.

If I could talk to the animals...

2007-06-22T13:11:00.000-07:00

As I was walking to my car this morning I saw a squirrel and a crow making noises at each other. The squirrel was sitting on a ledge eating what looked like a peanut. A crow swooped down next to him and started to squawk . The squirrel chuck-chuked back. I could tell it was a very passionate exchange based on their inflection and it's duration. Now, I don't speak Crow or Squirrel but I imagine their conversation went something like this....

Crow (Voiced by Peter O'Toole)
Squirrel (Voiced by Dude Lebowski)

Crow: "Uhh, must you always be here? Be gone pest, I am expecting friends"

Squirrel : "Fuck off I was here first."

Crow: "Honestly squirrel friend they will be here any minute"

Squirrel: "Look man, I'm exhausted. I have been running all over this place hiding nuts and trying not go get attacked by fat ladies new cat"

Crow: "Fat lady got a new cat?"

Squirrel : "Yeah man like last week and that thing wont leave me the hell alone"

Crow : "My goodness, they will just give cats to anyone won't they. Tut Tut. "

Squirrel "That's what I'm sayin."

Crow: "Oh dreadful. I detest Cats. Such vile creatures. They are the reason I am an orphan."

Squirrel: "No shit? That's awful man."

Crow: " Yes it was. But such is life."

Squirrel : "Wow. I'm sorry I told you to fuck off earlier."

Crow : " It's quite alright, I may have brought that on myself."

Squirrel: "Listen man, I'll get outta here"

Crow: " Oh that's not necessary. You can stay. Besides you speak so funny. I would love for my friends to hear it."

Squirrel: "Thanks but I need to go. The bald man got a new Bird Bath so me and some friends are meeting for a drink"

Crow: "Did he really? Well I am sure I will see you around then."

Squirrel: "For sure man. Later"

Crow: "Ciao"

Meat Pie

2007-06-19T10:38:00.000-07:00

I just got back from doing a run for the boss man. It was pretty easy cause it was still early enough that not a whole lot of people were out and about yet. But it was getting pretty congested. There was Phantom Traffic the whole way down but the drive back was cake.

I have to ask, is it just me or is the way people drive and how those people got their drivers licenses totally mystifying? It is as though nobody really knows what they are doing. AT ALL.

The way I look at it, we're a team when we drive. Let's all drive the speed limit, pick the lane we want to be in and stay there, get a real good idea of where we are going and we will all get to where we want to go as quickly and safely as we all want to. If you don't know where you are going, can't pick a song on the iPod and drive at the same time, can't find your cell phone or are too distracted by the conversation you're having on your cell phone; pull over, get your shit together and get back on the road. Other wise you're f-ing up the flow of things.

I am not going to say I have never been a stupid driver. I know I have. We all have. But for the love of God in heaven people, driving really isn't all that difficult. It ain't the SAT's.

There are a few people who make things hard for those of us that can drive. And the they are....

The Basket Weaver: This person suffers from "the grass is greener" syndrome. The best lane to be in is the one they are NOT in and they weave in and out of traffic lanes as if, you guessed it, they were weaving a basket. These people suck. They don't seem to realize that in their basket weaving they are contributing to the traffic. If they were just patient they would see that the lane they are in will move but they are too busy trying to get over to see that the reason why the lane is stopped is because some asshole is trying to get over when he really should just stay put.

The Sunday Driver: This person drives like there is nothing else to do in the world but drive. So they drive extra slow, stop where the shouldn't and let anybody and everybody pull out of drive ways or make illegal left turns.

The Not-S0 Sunday Driver: This is the person, usually in a sports car or an F150 who can't go fast enough. He cuts people off, honks the split second the light turns green, yells at you (to your face) for being an idiot.

Let me just clarify though that there is nothing wrong with cussing and getting irritated when we drive. I have yelled at tons of people, we all yell at people. But we do it to ourselves in our cars. I would never call someone a douche bag or a shitty driver to their face. I don't think there are many of us that would.

For example,
A few weeks ago I was cut off by a man in an F150 as I was turning into the driveway at work. He cut ahead of me in the turn lane and yelled something at me. He parked and got out of his car and stood in the driveway with his arms crossed shaking his head at me and waited for me to pull in. As I did he told me I should "learn to drive before I get in a car". I smiled and laid on the sarcasm real thick and said "Really? Thanks for the tip".

Anyway, I was brought to blogging about this because today when I was driving there was all of this Phantom traffic (slow driving for no reason). The basket weavers where there with the Sundays and not-so Sundays and the people like me, who sit in traffic and say " Seriously, wtf?". I was under the impression that traffic and bad driving was a plague just where I live,cause anyone who lives here can attest that it is not easy to drive here. But I guess bad drivers have taken over the world. This morning The Vatican issued a "Ten Commandments of Driving" see link http://www.cnn.com/2007/WORLD/europe/06/19/vatican.road.rage.ap/index.html?section=cnn_latest

There's are good but I made up some of my own.

1. Thou Shall Not Be an Asshole.
2. Thou Shall Leave With Plenty Of Time So As To Not "Rush" Other Drivers.
3. Thou Shall Count To Three Before Honking At A Green Light.
4. Thou Shall Pick A Lane And Stay There.
5. Thou Shall Let People Over When They Are Signaling.
6. Thou Shall Use Thy Blinker.
7. Thou Shall Check Thy Blind Spots.
8. Thou Shall Say "Thank You" When Someone Has Been Courteous.
9. Thou Shall Only Use Thy Horn When Necessary.
10. Thou Shall Drive Like Nobody Else Knows What They Are Doing.