So I think I was late to the party that is the Travelling Red Dress.
Like everything, I had this brilliant idea about two years ago to send a piece of jewelry to some of the fabulous women who have made an impact on my life. I think somewhere along the line, I heard about the pair of jeans book. In high school, my friends and I shared scarves, and jewelry and sweaters... so now that I am an adult, I suppose I wanted to try to live that all over again with a piece of jewelry. But before I could send off the bracelet that I had chosen - it broke while I was wearing it. In my world of fate and kooky consequences it was clear to me that a broken bracelet was no way to start this weave into the world. I needed to wait until I had something solid. Something that was good for me, something I loved, that would not break. Fast forward two years to about a month ago.
Wasting away another day at the computer I stumbled across the story of the Travelling Red Dress. Ay' Carumba! There were (of course) other people who had the same fabulous idea as me. They chose to get it started with a red dress... which turned into several red dresses... which turned into a bit of a movement. It was time to find a bracelet and on a much smaller scale, send it into the world.
Every year my mother and I hit the same artisan craft show in the summer. And, every year she buys me a bracelet from this little old man who weaves these beautiful gold and silver knots into sparkly, bangly bands that I simply cannot get enough of. At the time, I thought I was simply drawn to how they looked. In retrospect (and after pulling out my stockpile) I realized there was much, much more to his signature style. Different materials, and different knots all add to the beauty of these things. The super bonus was they were big enough to look fabulous dangling from my plus size wrist.
So, I chose one. It was not my favorite one but instead one that I thought I could part with. One that has been worn all over the world (they slide right through metal detectors at the airport). One that was beautiful enough to be given away and one that was sturdy enough to endure some additional travel and abuse. I put together a little package with the bracelet including a small notebook and a card. The card explained why I was sending the bracelet and what you were supposed to do with it when you were done. The book was for writing a brief story if you choose.
My next step was deciding who would get this bracelet first. I have always been very lucky to surround myself at different times in my life with people who seemed the perfect match. I knew it had to be Jules. This is the woman who talked me off a ledge back when I needed it at 19 years old. Upset and frustrated with my weight and my decisions, I was talking out loud about my life and my choices. Of course this was back in the day where depression was never diagnosed let alone talked about and anti-depression drugs weren't popping up like Pez. I didn't realize I was depressed at the time but I was. I went to some ineffective on-campus counseling and as I chain smoked my way through a bottle of Absolut, Jules said the one thing to me that I will never, ever forget. " I would never hurt myself because I can't wait to see what happens next." HO-LY-SHIT. In just one short sentence she helped to shape the rest of my life - "you never know what is going to happen next."
So, Jules it is. Today I put the bracelet in an envelope and mailed it off to her. She does not know it is coming. I know she will wear it well, follow the directions and send it on. It may never make it back to me and if it doesn't, that's OK. I did good in the world today. I reached out and sent my love on to someone who may or may not know why. I truly believe in the God that weaves us all together. Some obvious and some not.
p.s. - I want a red dress.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Monday, February 6, 2012
Stripped down and smug pups
213 this morning by the trusty new scale.
Although at first glance it appear as if this was a no carb week of shocking losses, the truth is I stripped all my clothes off and got on the bastard buck neked in the morning right after I peed. (I probably would have shaved my legs if I thought that might help the process along too... )
I did not do what I said I was going to do with the alternating low carb and high carb days. Really? Yeah, really.
Spent most of the weekend moving for a friend who died in a tragic accident last October. It was horrible for the family - and very sad. We talked a lot about time and death and life over the weekend and this morning I woke up absolutely convinced I was going to eat well - and be nice to people. These were the only two rules.
By 10:30am I had broke both. (What the hell is wrong with me?)
By 10:30 am I ate two oatmeal cookies and told the intern at work he was a son of a bitch. Yep. True story. There is absolutely no way I can be nice to this kid (20's) with a shit eating grin who is 4 credit hours light from fucking up someone else's life... sounds like there is a story there, huh? OK - fine, if you insist...
Let me preface this by saying I have no initial issue with engineers. I find them to be lazy and categorically limited in their range to accept and understand anything that is not within their speciality. My problem with several engineers I deal with on weekly basis is the fact they are smug and believe that because they are engineers, they are smarter than everyone else in the room. I get extra raw when the little pup is but 21, and can't follow simple instructions.
Said pup and I are engaged in a project to re-work a series of drawings for our company's website. He keeps telling me they are done and I keep finding errors. This has gone on now for 6 weeks. On Friday I realized that the easiest way to keep most of his work was for me to make a change to the design specification. A major change. A change that I explained in detail on Friday afternoon. Turns out smug pup isn't so playful on Monday morning.
A fair amount of whining to the wrong people and I'm left to justify the changes. Unfortunately, this did not go well for him. Long story short - I was right, he was embarrassed and I my best guess it will be another 6 weeks before I get everything done. Lesson to all smug pup intern engineers... do NOT fuck with a fat Midwestern mom first thing Monday morning unless you want bitch slapped into place.
Oh, and bring me my coffee... with Splenda, if you please.
Although at first glance it appear as if this was a no carb week of shocking losses, the truth is I stripped all my clothes off and got on the bastard buck neked in the morning right after I peed. (I probably would have shaved my legs if I thought that might help the process along too... )
I did not do what I said I was going to do with the alternating low carb and high carb days. Really? Yeah, really.
Spent most of the weekend moving for a friend who died in a tragic accident last October. It was horrible for the family - and very sad. We talked a lot about time and death and life over the weekend and this morning I woke up absolutely convinced I was going to eat well - and be nice to people. These were the only two rules.
By 10:30am I had broke both. (What the hell is wrong with me?)
By 10:30 am I ate two oatmeal cookies and told the intern at work he was a son of a bitch. Yep. True story. There is absolutely no way I can be nice to this kid (20's) with a shit eating grin who is 4 credit hours light from fucking up someone else's life... sounds like there is a story there, huh? OK - fine, if you insist...
Let me preface this by saying I have no initial issue with engineers. I find them to be lazy and categorically limited in their range to accept and understand anything that is not within their speciality. My problem with several engineers I deal with on weekly basis is the fact they are smug and believe that because they are engineers, they are smarter than everyone else in the room. I get extra raw when the little pup is but 21, and can't follow simple instructions.
Said pup and I are engaged in a project to re-work a series of drawings for our company's website. He keeps telling me they are done and I keep finding errors. This has gone on now for 6 weeks. On Friday I realized that the easiest way to keep most of his work was for me to make a change to the design specification. A major change. A change that I explained in detail on Friday afternoon. Turns out smug pup isn't so playful on Monday morning.
A fair amount of whining to the wrong people and I'm left to justify the changes. Unfortunately, this did not go well for him. Long story short - I was right, he was embarrassed and I my best guess it will be another 6 weeks before I get everything done. Lesson to all smug pup intern engineers... do NOT fuck with a fat Midwestern mom first thing Monday morning unless you want bitch slapped into place.
Oh, and bring me my coffee... with Splenda, if you please.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Who are the people who read the business section?
A detour at lunch today led me to Wendy's. Who doesn't absolutely love the chili? I mean really, really great for $1.59 and just over 200 calories.
With very limited time and completely alone I sat quietly and ate alone. It took me 10 minutes.
I am not one of those people who is intimidated by eating alone or going out alone or going to the movies alone. I like the anonymity of the whole thing. In fact going to the movies by myself (especially a matinee) with a tub of popcorn and a stack to tissues is one of my most favorite things.... but I digress.
So, sitting in the now wifi enhanced Wendy's sucking down my chili, I was looking around the restaurant to check out the surroundings. Here, in no particular order, are the group of misfits I discovered -
A. 50 ish overweight businessman. Reading the business section of the Plain Dealer. Who does this, really? I don't understand what is in the business section that means anything to me. I have never had a job where there is even one headline I care about let alone one I'm going to act on. Shit, I barely even understand what they talking about and I've had write ups in the damn business section. Who reads the business section? and what EXACTLY are they looking for? Sometimes I wish I was important enough to need to read it.
B. 40 something dad. With a hoodie on. With the hood up. With his laptop open to facebook and not eating or drinking anything but watching CNN on the big screen TV and seemingly actually caring about what the talking head Blondie was carrying on about. Again, really? You're sitting in a Wendy's during the middle of the day on a Thursday. Are you really planning on getting a piece of the Facebook IPO? and why in all that is holy did you have your hood up?
C. 40 something mom and her teenage daughter. OK Stop. There is absolutely no reason I can ever see or understand that explains why you would want to wear sweatpants with words on your ass. What the shiznit is that all about? I don't care how old or young you are there is absolutely no reason to do it. Ever. Are "juicy" sweatpants and Ugg boots de'rigeur everywhere or just in the hell that is Ohio. (p.s. - did you know that all the world's freakiest serial killers are from Ohio? - look it up)
D. 20 something goth couple. I got hand it to these world of warcraft kids. They rock the style, right? Huge guy, fairy girl, both dyed black hair and smelling of smoke. Laptops open, gaming while enjoying their fries. I think they should probably be working or something but... they are in their 20's so - whatever.
E.F.G.and H. The senior patrol. Apparently after you get to be a card carrying member of the AARP you get free "senior drinks" at Wendy's. In the whole of my existence I never understood drinking coffee with a hamburger but I think something may switch when you get older and constantly need caffeine. Hamburgers don't taste good with coffee. I've tried it. They don't. This group of go-getters have set up shop in the Wendy's similar to the breakfast crowd at any given McDonalds on any given morning. They are scattered throughout the building in a way that allows them to talk to one another without actually having to commit. They wear the most comfortable shoes. They know the value menu by heart and can get in and out at lunch for under three bucks. I love these guys. They rock.
With very limited time and completely alone I sat quietly and ate alone. It took me 10 minutes.
I am not one of those people who is intimidated by eating alone or going out alone or going to the movies alone. I like the anonymity of the whole thing. In fact going to the movies by myself (especially a matinee) with a tub of popcorn and a stack to tissues is one of my most favorite things.... but I digress.
So, sitting in the now wifi enhanced Wendy's sucking down my chili, I was looking around the restaurant to check out the surroundings. Here, in no particular order, are the group of misfits I discovered -
A. 50 ish overweight businessman. Reading the business section of the Plain Dealer. Who does this, really? I don't understand what is in the business section that means anything to me. I have never had a job where there is even one headline I care about let alone one I'm going to act on. Shit, I barely even understand what they talking about and I've had write ups in the damn business section. Who reads the business section? and what EXACTLY are they looking for? Sometimes I wish I was important enough to need to read it.
B. 40 something dad. With a hoodie on. With the hood up. With his laptop open to facebook and not eating or drinking anything but watching CNN on the big screen TV and seemingly actually caring about what the talking head Blondie was carrying on about. Again, really? You're sitting in a Wendy's during the middle of the day on a Thursday. Are you really planning on getting a piece of the Facebook IPO? and why in all that is holy did you have your hood up?
C. 40 something mom and her teenage daughter. OK Stop. There is absolutely no reason I can ever see or understand that explains why you would want to wear sweatpants with words on your ass. What the shiznit is that all about? I don't care how old or young you are there is absolutely no reason to do it. Ever. Are "juicy" sweatpants and Ugg boots de'rigeur everywhere or just in the hell that is Ohio. (p.s. - did you know that all the world's freakiest serial killers are from Ohio? - look it up)
D. 20 something goth couple. I got hand it to these world of warcraft kids. They rock the style, right? Huge guy, fairy girl, both dyed black hair and smelling of smoke. Laptops open, gaming while enjoying their fries. I think they should probably be working or something but... they are in their 20's so - whatever.
E.F.G.and H. The senior patrol. Apparently after you get to be a card carrying member of the AARP you get free "senior drinks" at Wendy's. In the whole of my existence I never understood drinking coffee with a hamburger but I think something may switch when you get older and constantly need caffeine. Hamburgers don't taste good with coffee. I've tried it. They don't. This group of go-getters have set up shop in the Wendy's similar to the breakfast crowd at any given McDonalds on any given morning. They are scattered throughout the building in a way that allows them to talk to one another without actually having to commit. They wear the most comfortable shoes. They know the value menu by heart and can get in and out at lunch for under three bucks. I love these guys. They rock.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Backhanded assholes
Last week I needed to travel to a national trade show for the industry I work in. While there, I did the usual chit chat and hand shaking associated with sales. We all smile and cross our fingers that somewhere down the line - someone will get in touch with you and you'll make a buck.
So, after a day of glad handing and a day of meetings I wrapped it up and headed back to Ohio. Like the good girl I am, I followed up this week with a few of the folks that I really hoped would be solid leads for me.
This morning I received the following email -
"Thanks for the followup Stacey. I've sent your contact and capability info to my people and I hope we do business soon. You have a refreshing style and I enjoyed our brief discussion. Good luck this season."
Are you fucking kidding me? I don't even know how to react to this. And, as usual - I overreact.
Am I reading this wrong or did this tight lipped, tie wearing, self important prick just tell me to go fuck myself? "refreshing style" - what the hell does that mean? (although I suppose I could guess)**
**REFRESHING STYLE (def) : Chooses not to lie, chooses to be forthcoming and honest, chooses not to put on airs or pretend to be something other than they are. Usually does not fit in with liars, "business professionals" or assholes.**
Of course, this may not be the case. Instead, I may really be a crazy person that truly doesn't know just how off base I am. I can tell you this - I am not rude and I am not mean. I don't lie and I laugh and smile alot. Isn't that enough in this world anymore?
I know I should not give a rats ass about this or about what other people think of me but honestly, it is very rare that someone will actually tell you either. I'm not totally convinced I understand what this fuck was trying to say....
"refreshing style"
Okay - I'll take that.
I think.
So, after a day of glad handing and a day of meetings I wrapped it up and headed back to Ohio. Like the good girl I am, I followed up this week with a few of the folks that I really hoped would be solid leads for me.
This morning I received the following email -
"Thanks for the followup Stacey. I've sent your contact and capability info to my people and I hope we do business soon. You have a refreshing style and I enjoyed our brief discussion. Good luck this season."
Are you fucking kidding me? I don't even know how to react to this. And, as usual - I overreact.
Am I reading this wrong or did this tight lipped, tie wearing, self important prick just tell me to go fuck myself? "refreshing style" - what the hell does that mean? (although I suppose I could guess)**
**REFRESHING STYLE (def) : Chooses not to lie, chooses to be forthcoming and honest, chooses not to put on airs or pretend to be something other than they are. Usually does not fit in with liars, "business professionals" or assholes.**
Of course, this may not be the case. Instead, I may really be a crazy person that truly doesn't know just how off base I am. I can tell you this - I am not rude and I am not mean. I don't lie and I laugh and smile alot. Isn't that enough in this world anymore?
I know I should not give a rats ass about this or about what other people think of me but honestly, it is very rare that someone will actually tell you either. I'm not totally convinced I understand what this fuck was trying to say....
"refreshing style"
Okay - I'll take that.
I think.
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