So there are folks that are prejudiced - and folks who are racist.
I never thought I was either of those things... but, the older I get, the more raw and nasty I get over people who are thin. I could seriously give a rat's ass about the color of your skin or who you sleep with or your age or your ethnicity or anything else you would like to use to define yourself.
EXCEPT - skinny people.
I don't care if you work out.
I don't care if you obsess over your carbs, your protein intake, your calorie count, your fitness level, your weight or your BMI... go ahead (it's my hobby too)
But if you are thin - I have noticed that over the years - I have gotten worse.
I dislike you on principle alone. Here in the good 'ole USA, your life has been easier than mine. And I am god-damned jealous.
I hate that you can shop in any store and pay less for your clothes.
I hate that you don't elicit the scorn and ridicule of others based on your size alone.
I hate that you have never had to wonder if you are going to break the furniture.
I hate that you have never had to wonder if you are even going to fit in the seat.
I hate that you can dance without reserve and without knowing you are the object of ridicule.
I hate that you can go to the beach without being stared at.
I hate that you can talk about "your fat thighs and your fat ass" in a satirical way because at the end of the day you still wear a size 6.
I fucking hate you and your magical, made up bullshit drama over what dress will fit. (They will all fit dumb ass)
I hate that you think you have flabby arms.
I hate that you think your life really sucks because you "just can't" turn over and tan your ass at the country club pool.
I hate that you could choose to wear designer dresses and I can't because they don't even make them in size.
I hate that I have lost opportunities in this world to people who were thinner than me.
I hate having to pretend that I give a shit about your new diet.
I hate that I am bound both emotionally and physically to beauty ideal that I can not easily achieve.
Time on this earth is limited. What I do with that time says volumes. I can make myself happy with food or I can choose not to. If food is love in my family - and it is - I feel trapped.
I have an unhealthy relationship with my body and food.
I am not a special flower. I am one if a field of American women who are completely and totally fucked up when it comes to body image and food. Do you need proof? Look at the diet and exercise business... (it might was well be the industrial-military complex). Hundreds of millions of dollars made off the backs of average women with a sickness.
I hate skinny people.
Monday, July 7, 2014
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
awwww snap...
Everytime I tell myself I am going to shut this darn thing down - I don't. I'm not exactly sure what that's all about but as it stands - there is more kvetching to be done.
It's a new year and my obsessions are the same.
yo yo dieting - "my new hobby!"
exercise - "woo hoo - when do I get my damn fit bit flex?"
the kids - "college planning... do I have a role here?"
my job - "just as stupid as ever. I officially think I am lazy now"
So - some snappy updates, eh? Alrighty then -
Went off WW in August and jumped on the LC bandwagon. LOVED it! Went from 207 to 195 in about 2 months. Got as low as 193 and was feelin' great. Then - completely ate whatever the hell I wanted from the middle of November through January 1st and ended up at 211. (apparently I keep circling 205, eh?) So - new year, same story. Back in the saddle.
In other news. I think I quit smoking. It started simply enough with me missing an entire day because there was no way/space/time to smoke at the Ohio State game. So - after 24 hours with no cigarette... I just kept adding days until I was over the hump. I can't say I am permanently quit because I had a couple over the course of the past couple of months. But since I consider this a success, I am going to get my teeth whitened (I wonder how much that costs?).
Some other things..
1. I ran for school board. I lost. It sucked.
2. I'm worried about my Dad's health
3. I think I need to have sex with my husband more
4. My friends are falling away from me. This also sucks.
I'm back to reading other people's blogs. My guilty pleasure... spying - in plain sight.
I feel like this blog should have some kind of direction but I honestly couldn't say what it could be. There's all sorts of bloggers out there taking food pictures and running pictures and writing snarky odes to everything under the sun... but at the end of the day, I just have a ton of thoughts about a ton of things with no funnel and no friends to whine to so instead of saving them up I'm going to try to get them all out - again.
tomorrow....
It's a new year and my obsessions are the same.
yo yo dieting - "my new hobby!"
exercise - "woo hoo - when do I get my damn fit bit flex?"
the kids - "college planning... do I have a role here?"
my job - "just as stupid as ever. I officially think I am lazy now"
So - some snappy updates, eh? Alrighty then -
Went off WW in August and jumped on the LC bandwagon. LOVED it! Went from 207 to 195 in about 2 months. Got as low as 193 and was feelin' great. Then - completely ate whatever the hell I wanted from the middle of November through January 1st and ended up at 211. (apparently I keep circling 205, eh?) So - new year, same story. Back in the saddle.
In other news. I think I quit smoking. It started simply enough with me missing an entire day because there was no way/space/time to smoke at the Ohio State game. So - after 24 hours with no cigarette... I just kept adding days until I was over the hump. I can't say I am permanently quit because I had a couple over the course of the past couple of months. But since I consider this a success, I am going to get my teeth whitened (I wonder how much that costs?).
Some other things..
1. I ran for school board. I lost. It sucked.
2. I'm worried about my Dad's health
3. I think I need to have sex with my husband more
4. My friends are falling away from me. This also sucks.
I'm back to reading other people's blogs. My guilty pleasure... spying - in plain sight.
I feel like this blog should have some kind of direction but I honestly couldn't say what it could be. There's all sorts of bloggers out there taking food pictures and running pictures and writing snarky odes to everything under the sun... but at the end of the day, I just have a ton of thoughts about a ton of things with no funnel and no friends to whine to so instead of saving them up I'm going to try to get them all out - again.
tomorrow....
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Weight Watchers can kiss my ass
OK... so it is finally over.
I tried, I swear I tried. Although I promised my friend I would stick with her for a year. We got 7 months in and have decided to call it quits. The WW experiment is officially over. What a train wreck. After 7 months of counting points, at the end of the day I lost 20 lbs. I guess I should be happy but when I look at the math on this thing I want to throw up. I spent $315 to lose 19.6 lbs while all the while berating myself mentally for minor failures and infractions... (i.e. - I ate 2000 calories in one day). Absolutely NOT emotionally healthy.
To be honest it was me who kept holding Lilly's feet to the fire. I really wanted her to do the full year so I would never - NEVER - never have to hold her hand through weight watchers again. She kept wanting to quit. Now - it's officially off my list. Never again will I pay to play their games. My girlfriend ended up losing 25 lbs and gaining 5 of it back immediately after she went "off program". This... was to be expected. This... was exactly what I told her would happen. This was exactly why it's a bullshit waste of time.
On the plus side - I have a new exercise partner. Somehow over the course of these 7 months, Lilly decided that exercise was cool. I've always gone to the gym. I started running again.... I take Zumba classes and spinning. And now... I have a friend who wants to come with me. So I'm happy about that.
I thought long and hard about disintegrating this blog but for whatever reason, when I logged in to make it go away I started typing so it lives again. Not exactly sure how I will feel about it tomorrow... guess I'll just have to wait and see.
Since it does however happen to be Thursday - here's few things that are currently biting my ass.
My son's new high school principal is a prick. This sucks.
My other son is back from Europe and would be happy if his fucktard of a band instructor wasn't trying to dock him points for missing marching band practice over the summer. It was summer asshole.. and his 3 weeks in Europe sure as shit taught him more than two weeks carrying a snare drum. This will be another argument at the school later this month before grades come out.
I'm 7 weeks in to a bathroom remodel that was supposed to take 3. I am showering in the basement in a make-shift shower with no heat. Meanwhile, the contractor has moved on to another bigger project across town while we wait for the tile guy and the granite guy to do their thing. I'm guessing it will be done by October.
I started Atkins on my own last week and I am perilously close to seeing the south side of 200 in the next month or so. That will be cool.
Other things that I don't have time to write about now but want to:
Skinny fat or sloppy skinny -
American elitism - think Mike
'till later... whenever that may be.
I tried, I swear I tried. Although I promised my friend I would stick with her for a year. We got 7 months in and have decided to call it quits. The WW experiment is officially over. What a train wreck. After 7 months of counting points, at the end of the day I lost 20 lbs. I guess I should be happy but when I look at the math on this thing I want to throw up. I spent $315 to lose 19.6 lbs while all the while berating myself mentally for minor failures and infractions... (i.e. - I ate 2000 calories in one day). Absolutely NOT emotionally healthy.
To be honest it was me who kept holding Lilly's feet to the fire. I really wanted her to do the full year so I would never - NEVER - never have to hold her hand through weight watchers again. She kept wanting to quit. Now - it's officially off my list. Never again will I pay to play their games. My girlfriend ended up losing 25 lbs and gaining 5 of it back immediately after she went "off program". This... was to be expected. This... was exactly what I told her would happen. This was exactly why it's a bullshit waste of time.
On the plus side - I have a new exercise partner. Somehow over the course of these 7 months, Lilly decided that exercise was cool. I've always gone to the gym. I started running again.... I take Zumba classes and spinning. And now... I have a friend who wants to come with me. So I'm happy about that.
I thought long and hard about disintegrating this blog but for whatever reason, when I logged in to make it go away I started typing so it lives again. Not exactly sure how I will feel about it tomorrow... guess I'll just have to wait and see.
Since it does however happen to be Thursday - here's few things that are currently biting my ass.
My son's new high school principal is a prick. This sucks.
My other son is back from Europe and would be happy if his fucktard of a band instructor wasn't trying to dock him points for missing marching band practice over the summer. It was summer asshole.. and his 3 weeks in Europe sure as shit taught him more than two weeks carrying a snare drum. This will be another argument at the school later this month before grades come out.
I'm 7 weeks in to a bathroom remodel that was supposed to take 3. I am showering in the basement in a make-shift shower with no heat. Meanwhile, the contractor has moved on to another bigger project across town while we wait for the tile guy and the granite guy to do their thing. I'm guessing it will be done by October.
I started Atkins on my own last week and I am perilously close to seeing the south side of 200 in the next month or so. That will be cool.
Other things that I don't have time to write about now but want to:
Skinny fat or sloppy skinny -
American elitism - think Mike
'till later... whenever that may be.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Why weight watchers is bullshit, but I can't stop
Part of what makes my life so interesting is the cast of characters I have surrounded myself with.
I have a group of people I know and love, a group of people I know, and a group of people I do not love. I still haven't decided if any of the them will ever know about my little secret corner of the world and/or if they would ever admit to reading it but the truth is often stranger than fiction, yo. Time to get realz up in this bitch... (from a 41 year old white girl, right?)
These people are NOT the kind of folks who would want me to use their names... particularly since I am still hiding behind a makeshift veil myself (and yes, I know if you tried hard enough.. blah, blah, blah but do you really care - no... didn't think so).
So I can keep it straight in my own head - there are some peeps I've decided I am going to start including in my tales.
Billy Brain - exactly that: calm, collected, smarter than me and one of the besties
Lilly Diva - former prom queen and purse lover, one of the besties
Shrilly Jane - rock solid as they come, grounded truth teller, one of the besties
the husband - self explanatory
#1 - he's the oldest. 16, 6'1" and snarky as his mother
the little one - he's not really little (at all) - 14, 5'7 and growing, 200lbs of fun
I suppose part of the reason I need to lay all this out is so I can get to the real bit here which is the weight watchers story. JESUS CHRIST... WTH. Why in the name of all that is holy did I join up with these fuckers again. I am so annoyed I don't even know where to begin.. oh, wait, yes I do. I blame Lilly.
Here's the thing. My adorable friend Lilly used to be smokin' hot by Midwestern Ohio (1987) standards. Then she got married, and pregnant and divorced and 44 and flipped her shit. She weighed in just under the big 2 and decided she was joining weight watchers "FOR REAL" this time. And... because I am the greatest friend in the world - I was joining with her.
I should have known this was going to piss me off.
I am not a weight watchers rookie. Not by a long shot. This would be.... oh, let's see... weight watchers round 4? Maybe round 5? Clearly I do not like nor believe in their low fat, semi-starvation bullshit. I absolutely hate everything about being underfed, losing a pound a week and slowing my metabolism down to 1400 calorie a day diet.... No, excuse me "lifestyle" program.
But - if Lilly needed me to do this with her - who knows.. maybe this time it will work. Maybe this time I will take it seriously... not cheat or stretch or do anything other than follow their program to the letter and I will wake up a year from now down somewhere between 26 and 104 lbs lighter. (.5-2 lbs a week, right?)
So - week one comes and goes. I'm down nearly 4 lbs. - there goes the water weight
Week 2 - down 1
Week 3 - and this is where I am reminded of why I hate weight watchers... up .6. Here is the the thing - I ate EXACTLY what they told me to eat. I exercised more than they told me to exercise. I did not touch or use my "extra" points. I drank the water, I ate the vegetables, nay a sugary snack crossed these pursed and anticipatory lips. And I gained. And my leader (more on this bitch later) tells me... seriously... "sometimes that just happens". I could have pinned her sloppy skinny to the wall (again - sloppy skinny is it's own post)
So, like any self respecting weight watchers cult member I chalk it up to a "weird" thing and buck up.
Week 4 - do exactly the same thing as week 3 - but no exercise. Lose two pounds.
We are now several weeks into the program and I am getting more and more annoyed...
Down .6, Up 1.6, Down .6 and on, and on, and on until I am sitting at 10 lbs down.
I know they tell me that this is a slow process and part of me really wants to believe in their science. But like all things, there is a lot of other nutrition research out there and I'm not convinced. My biggest issue is that weight watchers will not be forthcoming about their formula. I want the science of why certain things are certain points. I want a damn explanation. I do not need placated with a super simple mantra. I am not a sheep nor am I stupid.
Let's be clear. Weight Watchers is a multi-million dollar business. They are in business to make money. In order to make money you have to sell something that people want. Weight Watchers sells hope and pre-packaged foods that leave you hungry and wanting more pre-packaged foods. They actually make you sign off on a piece of paper when you join that says... get this, "we do not guarantee any weight loss".
I signed the damn paper. Does everyone know what a crock of shit these people are peddling? And, why do we all sign the paper and send them over $40 a month. I knew I couldn't be the only one who thinks this is crap right? Turns out I am not -
Check out this article on the percentages - who is really losing weight?
Or any number of folks who used the program and then gained it all back??? Lifestyle change my ass - it's a starvation diet that ends when you hit some magic goal weight. You don't change your lifestyle... you simply change it until you "win" and then you go back to who you really are (perhaps a bit more moderated).
I promised Lilly I would do this with her for one year. Honestly, I am already starting to lose my motivation but I don't want her to get disappointed and quit. Maybe this will work for her. Maybe this will work for me. I think we are already beautiful.
I have a group of people I know and love, a group of people I know, and a group of people I do not love. I still haven't decided if any of the them will ever know about my little secret corner of the world and/or if they would ever admit to reading it but the truth is often stranger than fiction, yo. Time to get realz up in this bitch... (from a 41 year old white girl, right?)
These people are NOT the kind of folks who would want me to use their names... particularly since I am still hiding behind a makeshift veil myself (and yes, I know if you tried hard enough.. blah, blah, blah but do you really care - no... didn't think so).
So I can keep it straight in my own head - there are some peeps I've decided I am going to start including in my tales.
Billy Brain - exactly that: calm, collected, smarter than me and one of the besties
Lilly Diva - former prom queen and purse lover, one of the besties
Shrilly Jane - rock solid as they come, grounded truth teller, one of the besties
the husband - self explanatory
#1 - he's the oldest. 16, 6'1" and snarky as his mother
the little one - he's not really little (at all) - 14, 5'7 and growing, 200lbs of fun
I suppose part of the reason I need to lay all this out is so I can get to the real bit here which is the weight watchers story. JESUS CHRIST... WTH. Why in the name of all that is holy did I join up with these fuckers again. I am so annoyed I don't even know where to begin.. oh, wait, yes I do. I blame Lilly.
Here's the thing. My adorable friend Lilly used to be smokin' hot by Midwestern Ohio (1987) standards. Then she got married, and pregnant and divorced and 44 and flipped her shit. She weighed in just under the big 2 and decided she was joining weight watchers "FOR REAL" this time. And... because I am the greatest friend in the world - I was joining with her.
I should have known this was going to piss me off.
I am not a weight watchers rookie. Not by a long shot. This would be.... oh, let's see... weight watchers round 4? Maybe round 5? Clearly I do not like nor believe in their low fat, semi-starvation bullshit. I absolutely hate everything about being underfed, losing a pound a week and slowing my metabolism down to 1400 calorie a day diet.... No, excuse me "lifestyle" program.
But - if Lilly needed me to do this with her - who knows.. maybe this time it will work. Maybe this time I will take it seriously... not cheat or stretch or do anything other than follow their program to the letter and I will wake up a year from now down somewhere between 26 and 104 lbs lighter. (.5-2 lbs a week, right?)
So - week one comes and goes. I'm down nearly 4 lbs. - there goes the water weight
Week 2 - down 1
Week 3 - and this is where I am reminded of why I hate weight watchers... up .6. Here is the the thing - I ate EXACTLY what they told me to eat. I exercised more than they told me to exercise. I did not touch or use my "extra" points. I drank the water, I ate the vegetables, nay a sugary snack crossed these pursed and anticipatory lips. And I gained. And my leader (more on this bitch later) tells me... seriously... "sometimes that just happens". I could have pinned her sloppy skinny to the wall (again - sloppy skinny is it's own post)
So, like any self respecting weight watchers cult member I chalk it up to a "weird" thing and buck up.
Week 4 - do exactly the same thing as week 3 - but no exercise. Lose two pounds.
We are now several weeks into the program and I am getting more and more annoyed...
Down .6, Up 1.6, Down .6 and on, and on, and on until I am sitting at 10 lbs down.
I know they tell me that this is a slow process and part of me really wants to believe in their science. But like all things, there is a lot of other nutrition research out there and I'm not convinced. My biggest issue is that weight watchers will not be forthcoming about their formula. I want the science of why certain things are certain points. I want a damn explanation. I do not need placated with a super simple mantra. I am not a sheep nor am I stupid.
Let's be clear. Weight Watchers is a multi-million dollar business. They are in business to make money. In order to make money you have to sell something that people want. Weight Watchers sells hope and pre-packaged foods that leave you hungry and wanting more pre-packaged foods. They actually make you sign off on a piece of paper when you join that says... get this, "we do not guarantee any weight loss".
I signed the damn paper. Does everyone know what a crock of shit these people are peddling? And, why do we all sign the paper and send them over $40 a month. I knew I couldn't be the only one who thinks this is crap right? Turns out I am not -
Check out this article on the percentages - who is really losing weight?
Or any number of folks who used the program and then gained it all back??? Lifestyle change my ass - it's a starvation diet that ends when you hit some magic goal weight. You don't change your lifestyle... you simply change it until you "win" and then you go back to who you really are (perhaps a bit more moderated).
I promised Lilly I would do this with her for one year. Honestly, I am already starting to lose my motivation but I don't want her to get disappointed and quit. Maybe this will work for her. Maybe this will work for me. I think we are already beautiful.
Monday, January 7, 2013
Back in the saddle...
New year, right?
Alrighty then - let me just dust off last year's list of resolutions and re-pin those back up on my rear view mirror.
The random act of kindness thing went off without a hitch. I ended up passing out candy canes with lottery tickets attached to folks I saw everywhere. Most of them gave me strange looks expecting there to be some kind of holy roller message attached. I was particularly happy to see their smiles change when they realized I wasn't asking them for, or to do anything other than be a good person. Shit, just get yourself an alter ego and go bitch on the internets... but in real life - don't be an ass.
So - how's about some bitching:
Joined the WW wagon again today. Are you kidding me? $42.00 a month? Shut the front door... that's a lot of money to have someone tell me everything I already know but simply choose not to do. I solemnly swear I will listen to what they tell and do what they say.. SWEAR. (for at least three months until I go to Mexico)
Still can't stand my job - BORING. If you are middle aged and middle income and showing up at a job for insurance does that mean you've given up on life? Damn, that's what I thought... may need to look at that.
Went out for New Years with some friends. It was horrible. At some point you need to hang up your headphones and know that you are not a good DJ. Food was good. Friends were campy as ever. DJ - totally sucked.
Cool things -
Got a beautiful new car for Christmas. My husband did NOT suck this Christmas.
Did not get into an argument with my brother over the holidays even though I really wanted to jack him in the schnoz for a few things he let his kids get away with.
House is clean (ish).
Laundry is done.
Nails are done.
Woo hoo - bring on 2013.
Alrighty then - let me just dust off last year's list of resolutions and re-pin those back up on my rear view mirror.
The random act of kindness thing went off without a hitch. I ended up passing out candy canes with lottery tickets attached to folks I saw everywhere. Most of them gave me strange looks expecting there to be some kind of holy roller message attached. I was particularly happy to see their smiles change when they realized I wasn't asking them for, or to do anything other than be a good person. Shit, just get yourself an alter ego and go bitch on the internets... but in real life - don't be an ass.
So - how's about some bitching:
Joined the WW wagon again today. Are you kidding me? $42.00 a month? Shut the front door... that's a lot of money to have someone tell me everything I already know but simply choose not to do. I solemnly swear I will listen to what they tell and do what they say.. SWEAR. (for at least three months until I go to Mexico)
Still can't stand my job - BORING. If you are middle aged and middle income and showing up at a job for insurance does that mean you've given up on life? Damn, that's what I thought... may need to look at that.
Went out for New Years with some friends. It was horrible. At some point you need to hang up your headphones and know that you are not a good DJ. Food was good. Friends were campy as ever. DJ - totally sucked.
Cool things -
Got a beautiful new car for Christmas. My husband did NOT suck this Christmas.
Did not get into an argument with my brother over the holidays even though I really wanted to jack him in the schnoz for a few things he let his kids get away with.
House is clean (ish).
Laundry is done.
Nails are done.
Woo hoo - bring on 2013.
Friday, December 7, 2012
RAK'd and other musings..
Time flies when you're surfing the web ...
I swear it is way more fun to do flying leap into infinity when you simply find a link.. then another.. and then another and before you know what you've done you are reading about butt acorns used to smuggle information from the Confederacy to its soldiers in the Civil War (why yes, I HEART you Smithsonian magazine)
So the bullet points -
I rang in my birthday at 218 pounds... translation? If I stop working out and continue eating muffins and drinking beer for a year I will gain 15 pounds. Sounds about right. (I really like beer.... and muffins)
I ran for school board. I find out in a few days if I got the gig. I better have got the gig. They need me.
I wrapped up Thanksgiving with an end zone run on Black Friday. I dig on BF. It's competitive shopping and (as with most things) I'm a bit competitive. If it's easy - I probably will get bored. Black Friday ups the ante a bit. You gotta want to save $25 bitches...
Which brings me to Christmas. I may suck at a lot of things all year but when it comes to Christmas, I got game. Seriously. Decorating, cooking, gifting... I love it all. I love the music, and the sentiment and the colors and the lights. Secular (maybe) but I think we can all agree that it is a GOOD thing to be nice to one another. So... I'm trying something new this year.
Every day for the month of December I am doing one Random Act of Kindness. So far, so good. It can be a small thing but I am trying to make sure that the person I help is not someone I know. I thought about making a list of the things I was doing but that seemingly violates the whole "random" thing from a different angle. So...
I'm still big (my fat pants are tight)
I've offered to help in my community
I'm RAK'ing (random act of kindness) people daily
Christmas is about more than what can I get... it's about what you can give.
Do something nice out there - pay it forward...
I swear it is way more fun to do flying leap into infinity when you simply find a link.. then another.. and then another and before you know what you've done you are reading about butt acorns used to smuggle information from the Confederacy to its soldiers in the Civil War (why yes, I HEART you Smithsonian magazine)
So the bullet points -
I rang in my birthday at 218 pounds... translation? If I stop working out and continue eating muffins and drinking beer for a year I will gain 15 pounds. Sounds about right. (I really like beer.... and muffins)
I ran for school board. I find out in a few days if I got the gig. I better have got the gig. They need me.
I wrapped up Thanksgiving with an end zone run on Black Friday. I dig on BF. It's competitive shopping and (as with most things) I'm a bit competitive. If it's easy - I probably will get bored. Black Friday ups the ante a bit. You gotta want to save $25 bitches...
Which brings me to Christmas. I may suck at a lot of things all year but when it comes to Christmas, I got game. Seriously. Decorating, cooking, gifting... I love it all. I love the music, and the sentiment and the colors and the lights. Secular (maybe) but I think we can all agree that it is a GOOD thing to be nice to one another. So... I'm trying something new this year.
Every day for the month of December I am doing one Random Act of Kindness. So far, so good. It can be a small thing but I am trying to make sure that the person I help is not someone I know. I thought about making a list of the things I was doing but that seemingly violates the whole "random" thing from a different angle. So...
I'm still big (my fat pants are tight)
I've offered to help in my community
I'm RAK'ing (random act of kindness) people daily
Christmas is about more than what can I get... it's about what you can give.
Do something nice out there - pay it forward...
Thursday, November 8, 2012
I still heart radio...
Sometimes you forget who you are...
So I may be a little late to the party but I am totally loving I Heart Radio. O.k. first of all, lets agree it is the stupidest name ever. Once you get over the complete weirdness of saying "I found it on I Heart Radio" you can get to the business end of some really rockin' radio stations.
For as long as I can remember, I was one of those chicks who grew up recording my favorite songs off the radio... waiting for the exact right moment when it started... diving across my bedroom floor and hitting record on my "boom box" and dancing around my room like the Solid Gold Dancers. Yes, - I had legwarmers and.. yes, they matched my damn sweater.
Fast forward to karaoke (minus the machine) with the radio on in the background and my girlfriends and I singing into an assortment of hairbrushes, perfume bottles and deodorant. That really did happen.
One more leap in time and you are the girlfriend of the drummer. You roll with ripped up stockings and the rest of the band. You sit on the side of the stage... you drink and laugh and think it all may come to something - but it doesn't.
But my true love... the thing that makes me smile every. damned. time. is college radio. It's a little bit like the difference between the NFL and college football. College radio still gives a shit. They play all sorts of new music and the best of the old. The DJ's make mistakes... they talk like I talk. There's usually not much in the way of commercials. I LOVE college radio. (and I've missed it for far too long)
Back in the day (20 years ago) I had a professor who used to play the organ in a rock band in the 60's. He was a train wreck of a professor but he used to let us smoke in our radio studio so we loved him. We were all sitting around drinking coffee and bitching about having to grow up and get real jobs in radio and TV when he delivers one of "truths" - "radio is a hot medium, TV is cold - I would rather be hot". Bring on the tropical drinks Dr. Whaley. I'm with you. Radio wakes up your senses - music will move you.
I do, indeed heart radio. I forgot that for a few years... but, I'm back.
So I may be a little late to the party but I am totally loving I Heart Radio. O.k. first of all, lets agree it is the stupidest name ever. Once you get over the complete weirdness of saying "I found it on I Heart Radio" you can get to the business end of some really rockin' radio stations.
For as long as I can remember, I was one of those chicks who grew up recording my favorite songs off the radio... waiting for the exact right moment when it started... diving across my bedroom floor and hitting record on my "boom box" and dancing around my room like the Solid Gold Dancers. Yes, - I had legwarmers and.. yes, they matched my damn sweater.
Fast forward to karaoke (minus the machine) with the radio on in the background and my girlfriends and I singing into an assortment of hairbrushes, perfume bottles and deodorant. That really did happen.
One more leap in time and you are the girlfriend of the drummer. You roll with ripped up stockings and the rest of the band. You sit on the side of the stage... you drink and laugh and think it all may come to something - but it doesn't.
But my true love... the thing that makes me smile every. damned. time. is college radio. It's a little bit like the difference between the NFL and college football. College radio still gives a shit. They play all sorts of new music and the best of the old. The DJ's make mistakes... they talk like I talk. There's usually not much in the way of commercials. I LOVE college radio. (and I've missed it for far too long)
Back in the day (20 years ago) I had a professor who used to play the organ in a rock band in the 60's. He was a train wreck of a professor but he used to let us smoke in our radio studio so we loved him. We were all sitting around drinking coffee and bitching about having to grow up and get real jobs in radio and TV when he delivers one of "truths" - "radio is a hot medium, TV is cold - I would rather be hot". Bring on the tropical drinks Dr. Whaley. I'm with you. Radio wakes up your senses - music will move you.
I do, indeed heart radio. I forgot that for a few years... but, I'm back.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Thinking Thursday this week
So.. the weekly update, eh?
It's "game on" with the writing this month.
To completely understand, go HERE... and read about how I'm about to write myself into fame, fortune and a lifetime of leisurely lunches. (rockin' the alliteration today - I may bust out a limerick soon). I don't know about literary abandon but I can tell you I got started today and I'm a mere 500 words into a story that I want to tell that is quickly turning into something completely different.
For the uninitiated... I'm back in the saddle with Nanowrimo again this year. The short version here is that you are supposed to write a novel (50,000 words) in a month. Translation = you need to write 1667 words per day. Ouch.
They assure me that it does not need to make sense. They assure me it does not need to be perfect. And the point of the exercise is to get used to the idea of writing.
Apparently, after a month of writing. I will spend the month of December editing and then... I will have a book.
It. Sounds. Simple.
It will not be.
I'm excited....
It's "game on" with the writing this month.
To completely understand, go HERE... and read about how I'm about to write myself into fame, fortune and a lifetime of leisurely lunches. (rockin' the alliteration today - I may bust out a limerick soon). I don't know about literary abandon but I can tell you I got started today and I'm a mere 500 words into a story that I want to tell that is quickly turning into something completely different.
For the uninitiated... I'm back in the saddle with Nanowrimo again this year. The short version here is that you are supposed to write a novel (50,000 words) in a month. Translation = you need to write 1667 words per day. Ouch.
They assure me that it does not need to make sense. They assure me it does not need to be perfect. And the point of the exercise is to get used to the idea of writing.
Apparently, after a month of writing. I will spend the month of December editing and then... I will have a book.
It. Sounds. Simple.
It will not be.
I'm excited....
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Zombie Investment plans...
If I'm not busy my mind wanders like a video game character searching for the next level.
Seriously, in the course of today - I've thought (and actually believed) the following:
1. I love my striped black and orange Halloween underwear. Why did my mom never buy me those underwear with the names of the week on them? Maybe it's a good thing she didn't, otherwise I may have spent too much time thinking about my vagina.
2. I am going to write a novel in the month of November. How tough can it be?
3. I think I saw some aliens at the local burger joint. It was a Men in Black moment fo sho... As they walked through the restaurant I was convinced their skin was about to peel off. Spooky.
4. Speaking of spooky - Hatchetman, the movie. I was going to offer to write their screenplay but then I found out it was already written. - bummer.
5. The city where I live is looking for people to sit on their tourism board. Maybe I should apply.
6. I wonder if I should get my MBA? Maybe go back to school to be a teacher instead?
7. If my husband bought a mountain in WV would I be bored or could I finally be the hippie healer witch I've always wanted to be.
8. I need to fix my IPhone.
9. The NDAA and Obama's kill list. Ho.Ly. Shit. If I wasn't scared enough before the Patriot Act, this little piece of legislation is enough to make me lose my lunch. Wow - we're all screwed.
10. DRIP investments and compound interest. How much money can I make doing nothing but investing over the course of 20 years....
and finally
11. Zombie Walk. Plans for this weekend include getting my makeup done and wandering around our local steel town .... and, its a fund raiser - with Michael Jackson dancers - how cool is that?
Seriously, in the course of today - I've thought (and actually believed) the following:
1. I love my striped black and orange Halloween underwear. Why did my mom never buy me those underwear with the names of the week on them? Maybe it's a good thing she didn't, otherwise I may have spent too much time thinking about my vagina.
2. I am going to write a novel in the month of November. How tough can it be?
3. I think I saw some aliens at the local burger joint. It was a Men in Black moment fo sho... As they walked through the restaurant I was convinced their skin was about to peel off. Spooky.
4. Speaking of spooky - Hatchetman, the movie. I was going to offer to write their screenplay but then I found out it was already written. - bummer.
5. The city where I live is looking for people to sit on their tourism board. Maybe I should apply.
6. I wonder if I should get my MBA? Maybe go back to school to be a teacher instead?
7. If my husband bought a mountain in WV would I be bored or could I finally be the hippie healer witch I've always wanted to be.
8. I need to fix my IPhone.
9. The NDAA and Obama's kill list. Ho.Ly. Shit. If I wasn't scared enough before the Patriot Act, this little piece of legislation is enough to make me lose my lunch. Wow - we're all screwed.
10. DRIP investments and compound interest. How much money can I make doing nothing but investing over the course of 20 years....
and finally
11. Zombie Walk. Plans for this weekend include getting my makeup done and wandering around our local steel town .... and, its a fund raiser - with Michael Jackson dancers - how cool is that?
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Are you the shoes you wear?
When you are little, adults like to make small talk by asking "what do you want to be when you grow up?"
It may be different for everyone but I think it changes a bit as you move through your childhood, and then your adolescence. I distinctly remember saying (in this order as I got older) - a teacher, an actress, a radio station programmer.
I did two of those things... kindof. The local theatre company counts I suppose, but I never got paid. I was on the radio and worked in tv for years but I never got really paid. I'm trying to decide if I should just go full circle back to my 8 year old self. I'm thinking about being a teacher.
I can officially say I believe I am having a bit of a mid life crisis. I always thought I would get to this point in my life and be the "big fish in a little sea". I decided long ago that I did not need to be in charge of the world but I had hoped that I would be in charge of something. Anything really that I cared about. Turns out I am not. I am just your average girl, doing an average job who (by my standards) is making very little impact on the community as a whole. I suppose I thought I would be some kind of public servant or in someway work to make my little corner of the world better. I'm not so sure that is how things turned out... and for that I am sad.
Here's what I do know.
I want to be happy to do what I do.
I'm not sure how. - note to self, define "what I do"
The not knowing how pisses me off.
Good Lord... I'm whining again. UGGHH!
It may be different for everyone but I think it changes a bit as you move through your childhood, and then your adolescence. I distinctly remember saying (in this order as I got older) - a teacher, an actress, a radio station programmer.
I did two of those things... kindof. The local theatre company counts I suppose, but I never got paid. I was on the radio and worked in tv for years but I never got really paid. I'm trying to decide if I should just go full circle back to my 8 year old self. I'm thinking about being a teacher.
I can officially say I believe I am having a bit of a mid life crisis. I always thought I would get to this point in my life and be the "big fish in a little sea". I decided long ago that I did not need to be in charge of the world but I had hoped that I would be in charge of something. Anything really that I cared about. Turns out I am not. I am just your average girl, doing an average job who (by my standards) is making very little impact on the community as a whole. I suppose I thought I would be some kind of public servant or in someway work to make my little corner of the world better. I'm not so sure that is how things turned out... and for that I am sad.
Here's what I do know.
I want to be happy to do what I do.
I'm not sure how. - note to self, define "what I do"
The not knowing how pisses me off.
Good Lord... I'm whining again. UGGHH!
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Non fat people calling themselves fat
The older I get the more accustomed I've become to hearing skinny people call themselves fat.
And, just because I understand why they would (that is an entirely separate post) - does not mean I can stand it.
It absolutely, positively drives me fucking crazy.
There appears to be some discrepancy about what defines a "fat" woman these days - I will take a few moments to give you a short bullet list.
Here's the short version. I think I may explode the next time some size 6 pixie stick is looking to me for support because she "just can't believe" she's going to eat another Twix bar. Kiss my size 18 ass, bitch.
And yes - I feel bad for you body dysmorphic sisters who are bulimic and anorexic and all the rest... but fuck you into next week if you think your poor body image even compares with the level of ridicule and disgust that a truly large size woman has to deal with on aweekly daily basis.
It is infuriating to hear a normal (read size 10-14) woman bitch about being fat. It makes my blood actually boil to hear a size 4 woman dare to do it.
And, just because I understand why they would (that is an entirely separate post) - does not mean I can stand it.
It absolutely, positively drives me fucking crazy.
There appears to be some discrepancy about what defines a "fat" woman these days - I will take a few moments to give you a short bullet list.
- If you can shop in a the misses or juniors section of any given store at any given time - YOU ARE NOT FAT
- If it has never occurred to you to be nervous that you are taking up too much room on the bench seat of the booth at the restaurant you are sharing - YOU ARE NOT FAT
- If you've never squeezed your ass into an airplane seat and then had to adjust the hand rests because they are wiggling up over the course of your flight due to your giggly hips - YOU ARE NOT FAT
- If you've never been eyeballed at: the bakery, the fast food store, the liquor store or the ice cream shop by a thin person who appears to be questioning your choices - YOU ARE NOT FAT
- If you've never been worried about breaking a weak looking chair or other piece of furniture - YOU ARE NOT FAT
- If you've never avoided sitting on someone else's lap because you are afraid you're going to hurt them - YOU ARE NOT FAT.
Here's the short version. I think I may explode the next time some size 6 pixie stick is looking to me for support because she "just can't believe" she's going to eat another Twix bar. Kiss my size 18 ass, bitch.
And yes - I feel bad for you body dysmorphic sisters who are bulimic and anorexic and all the rest... but fuck you into next week if you think your poor body image even compares with the level of ridicule and disgust that a truly large size woman has to deal with on a
It is infuriating to hear a normal (read size 10-14) woman bitch about being fat. It makes my blood actually boil to hear a size 4 woman dare to do it.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Content critique
I'm a blog rookie. I don't really write to an audience - but secretly wish I had one.
I won't be going out into the world anytime soon on a book tour. Until I write one.
And, I put my thoughts here so they don't spill out into my real world (which can be a bit tricky to navigate most days)
The very first time I had the ..."umph" (yes, that's the technical term and a bit more lady like than balls) to comment on another blog I reached out to a woman who made me laugh - runrollrepeat .
Turns out Cyndi was recently slammed by a group of catwomen at a site called Get off my Internets.
Of course, I had never heard of them before so I wanted to try to understand who these people were, what they do and more specifically what they did. Whoa... "catty" doesn't even begin to 'splain it Lucy.
Life is really just an extended high school. Regardless of where you are in your life there is a social hierarchy that exists in it's own right. I swear to God (or the goddess) - John Hughes hit the nail on the head back in the 80's with the Breakfast Club. In any given situation, you can break it down to the popular/princess, the jock, the criminal, the geek and the basket case. And - because I like to put a bow on everything like Johnny boy - we all have a bit of each.
Turns out some of the princesses in the microcosm of blogosphere regularly decide who is cool and who is not. I'm glad they've got that covered, I wouldn't want the pressure. There will always be bitchy/mean people (in fact, I can be one - I speak from experience).
Should my blog ever get read by anyone other than me, maybe someday - I too, will get flamed. I suppose in the nanosecond where I am judged by a mysterious psuedo-anonymous screen bitch I will feel hurt and upset. Then, I will realize that this blog and the microcosm that surrounds it is just part of my life and that they can't hurt me unless I give them power to.
I am a criminal, a princess, a jock, a geek and a basket case. So as a preemptive strike against those who would rail - fuck you ahead of time.
I won't be going out into the world anytime soon on a book tour. Until I write one.
And, I put my thoughts here so they don't spill out into my real world (which can be a bit tricky to navigate most days)
The very first time I had the ..."umph" (yes, that's the technical term and a bit more lady like than balls) to comment on another blog I reached out to a woman who made me laugh - runrollrepeat .
Turns out Cyndi was recently slammed by a group of catwomen at a site called Get off my Internets.
Of course, I had never heard of them before so I wanted to try to understand who these people were, what they do and more specifically what they did. Whoa... "catty" doesn't even begin to 'splain it Lucy.
Life is really just an extended high school. Regardless of where you are in your life there is a social hierarchy that exists in it's own right. I swear to God (or the goddess) - John Hughes hit the nail on the head back in the 80's with the Breakfast Club. In any given situation, you can break it down to the popular/princess, the jock, the criminal, the geek and the basket case. And - because I like to put a bow on everything like Johnny boy - we all have a bit of each.
Turns out some of the princesses in the microcosm of blogosphere regularly decide who is cool and who is not. I'm glad they've got that covered, I wouldn't want the pressure. There will always be bitchy/mean people (in fact, I can be one - I speak from experience).
Should my blog ever get read by anyone other than me, maybe someday - I too, will get flamed. I suppose in the nanosecond where I am judged by a mysterious psuedo-anonymous screen bitch I will feel hurt and upset. Then, I will realize that this blog and the microcosm that surrounds it is just part of my life and that they can't hurt me unless I give them power to.
I am a criminal, a princess, a jock, a geek and a basket case. So as a preemptive strike against those who would rail - fuck you ahead of time.
Friday, October 5, 2012
trinkets and things..
Shit, I missed another Thursday...
That being said, let me tell you a little story about yet another wonderful moment on my path to enlightenment - also known as "shit that I like".
Somehow or another, I have ended up with a world filled with things. Some of them I bought, some of them were given to me and some of them I outright stole. Of course most of the things I have bought - I needed for one reason or another and I have no emotional connection to most of it. Of the things that have been gifted, I keep only what I need and I re-gift the rest.. (I'm a giver, don't judge). But there exist in my life, a series of random things- emotional things, that - I am sad to say - are stolen.
Case in point -
My 1962 Levi Strauss jean jacket.
Stolen - 1989, NYC
From - my best friend Karen who was studying Art History at Fordham University while we rode the Subway trolling for booze. Said jacket was the rightful property of her long gone, alcoholic father who rocked the jacket for years before moving out of her house. It's rumored the jacket made it to Woodstock and back. It is ripped beyond repair in the sleeves, is stained and patched and has a few beads sewn into the collar. K let me wear it one night and I never gave it back. It rode the subway back to the safety of Long Island and eventually back to western NY, through multiple states and ended up in Ohio. She asked for it back about 15 years ago. I told her no. I love her, and I love the jacket and unfortunately for her - it's mine now. I reminds me of her, of freedom, and it looks cool as hell.
Case #2-
Ralph Lauren Bath Towel (you know, one of those really, really big ones that wraps around you a bunch of times)
Stolen - 2009, Jamboree in the Hills
From - "the Cinci" crew during a final cleanup of our campsite. So, for the uninitiated, there is a huge country music festival in the hills of Ohio every summer. This 4 day party includes mucho drinking, dancing and cavorting with like minded hillbillies who all grew up and can afford the overpriced camping and entrance fees. Years ago my local friends and I met another group from Cincinnati (didn't you ever wonder why one of the most conservative cities in the country sounds like "sin city"). There is always a kiddie pool and water fights and beer pong and food. One year while we were cleaning up, one of the women left her towel on my truck. I tried to return it to her at the time but she was distracted with other things and rather than interrupt her - I kept it for myself. It was soft, and fluffy and more expensive than anything I would ever buy for myself... (she's a pharmaceutical rep for christsakes - she can afford a damn nice towel). I still use this towel. I love this towel. It wraps around me twice. It is white. It reminds me of the beautiful things she told me about myself over one too many shitty American beers. I cannot give this towel back. I told her I had it, she told me to keep it. I used this towel on Thursday and thought of her.
Case #3
Hand Can Opener
Stolen - 1993, College Street House - Kent, Ohio
From - Matt (I can't remember his last name). Through divine intervention (and a friend named Mike), I ended up sharing a rooming house with about 7 other people in college. Like all marriages of convenience, we were a motley crew joined by our college rock affiliations and our propensity to wield sarcasm like swords. All 8 of us shared a bathroom and a kitchen in the basement. The rotating cast of characters that went in and out of the house (both as residents and guests) would be enough to write a rock anthem movie.
Anyway, after years in the house my soon to be husband moves in with a virtual kitchen in a box. He's got knives and plates and cups and kitchen tools and strainers and pots and pans and.... well, all the things you would actually need to cook with. As these items were sorely lacking before his arrival, we were all quite pleased to make room in the kitchen for his things. Many made grand gestures of moving chemistry projects, jig saws, paint etc.. to make room for a real kitchen. Then - we ate.. real food. Whoa.
As I mentioned the "college house for wayward rock stars startups " was the perfect place for parties and after one particularly raucous evening my soon to be husband flipped his shit when he went down into the kitchen to see his precious knives and tools scattered all over the kitchen. When he discovered that someone had used one of his knives to pry up the kitchen counter - it was all over.
Everything got packed up and locked - yes LOCKED- into a trunk never to be shared again. One of the things that got locked into the kitchen trunk, may not have been ours. In fact, it definitely wasn't (a hand held can opener with the name Matt written on it in black sharpie marker). We stole it. I stole it. Matt asked for it but we denied knowing what happened to it. We kept the opener. And even now I use it every week... almost 20 years later. Matt's can opener reminds me of the fun we had, and the trouble we could cause and what it was like to learn to get along with people.
I love some of the things I have stolen. They make me happy. Am I the only one?
That being said, let me tell you a little story about yet another wonderful moment on my path to enlightenment - also known as "shit that I like".
Somehow or another, I have ended up with a world filled with things. Some of them I bought, some of them were given to me and some of them I outright stole. Of course most of the things I have bought - I needed for one reason or another and I have no emotional connection to most of it. Of the things that have been gifted, I keep only what I need and I re-gift the rest.. (I'm a giver, don't judge). But there exist in my life, a series of random things- emotional things, that - I am sad to say - are stolen.
Case in point -
My 1962 Levi Strauss jean jacket.
Stolen - 1989, NYC
From - my best friend Karen who was studying Art History at Fordham University while we rode the Subway trolling for booze. Said jacket was the rightful property of her long gone, alcoholic father who rocked the jacket for years before moving out of her house. It's rumored the jacket made it to Woodstock and back. It is ripped beyond repair in the sleeves, is stained and patched and has a few beads sewn into the collar. K let me wear it one night and I never gave it back. It rode the subway back to the safety of Long Island and eventually back to western NY, through multiple states and ended up in Ohio. She asked for it back about 15 years ago. I told her no. I love her, and I love the jacket and unfortunately for her - it's mine now. I reminds me of her, of freedom, and it looks cool as hell.
Case #2-
Ralph Lauren Bath Towel (you know, one of those really, really big ones that wraps around you a bunch of times)
Stolen - 2009, Jamboree in the Hills
From - "the Cinci" crew during a final cleanup of our campsite. So, for the uninitiated, there is a huge country music festival in the hills of Ohio every summer. This 4 day party includes mucho drinking, dancing and cavorting with like minded hillbillies who all grew up and can afford the overpriced camping and entrance fees. Years ago my local friends and I met another group from Cincinnati (didn't you ever wonder why one of the most conservative cities in the country sounds like "sin city"). There is always a kiddie pool and water fights and beer pong and food. One year while we were cleaning up, one of the women left her towel on my truck. I tried to return it to her at the time but she was distracted with other things and rather than interrupt her - I kept it for myself. It was soft, and fluffy and more expensive than anything I would ever buy for myself... (she's a pharmaceutical rep for christsakes - she can afford a damn nice towel). I still use this towel. I love this towel. It wraps around me twice. It is white. It reminds me of the beautiful things she told me about myself over one too many shitty American beers. I cannot give this towel back. I told her I had it, she told me to keep it. I used this towel on Thursday and thought of her.
Case #3
Hand Can Opener
Stolen - 1993, College Street House - Kent, Ohio
From - Matt (I can't remember his last name). Through divine intervention (and a friend named Mike), I ended up sharing a rooming house with about 7 other people in college. Like all marriages of convenience, we were a motley crew joined by our college rock affiliations and our propensity to wield sarcasm like swords. All 8 of us shared a bathroom and a kitchen in the basement. The rotating cast of characters that went in and out of the house (both as residents and guests) would be enough to write a rock anthem movie.
Anyway, after years in the house my soon to be husband moves in with a virtual kitchen in a box. He's got knives and plates and cups and kitchen tools and strainers and pots and pans and.... well, all the things you would actually need to cook with. As these items were sorely lacking before his arrival, we were all quite pleased to make room in the kitchen for his things. Many made grand gestures of moving chemistry projects, jig saws, paint etc.. to make room for a real kitchen. Then - we ate.. real food. Whoa.
As I mentioned the "college house for wayward rock stars startups " was the perfect place for parties and after one particularly raucous evening my soon to be husband flipped his shit when he went down into the kitchen to see his precious knives and tools scattered all over the kitchen. When he discovered that someone had used one of his knives to pry up the kitchen counter - it was all over.
Everything got packed up and locked - yes LOCKED- into a trunk never to be shared again. One of the things that got locked into the kitchen trunk, may not have been ours. In fact, it definitely wasn't (a hand held can opener with the name Matt written on it in black sharpie marker). We stole it. I stole it. Matt asked for it but we denied knowing what happened to it. We kept the opener. And even now I use it every week... almost 20 years later. Matt's can opener reminds me of the fun we had, and the trouble we could cause and what it was like to learn to get along with people.
I love some of the things I have stolen. They make me happy. Am I the only one?
Friday, September 28, 2012
Off the charts... literally
Although I had every intention of posting every Thursday - I completely lost track of the fact that yesterday was, indeed, Thursday.
I am not kidding when I say I am the person who truly forgets how old I am, what day of the week it is and everybodys birthday/anniversary/special day - etc. It's like my brain is ratcheting up for other things and I am so overtired that I really lose sight of things most people know cold.
So, yesterday I was busy. And I heard (for the first time in my life) the following:
Office cat lady: "I have to redo all the sales charts"
Me: "Oh, that's got to stink.. sorry to hear that"
Office cat lady: "well - congratulations - it's your fault"
Me: "Really?"
OCL: "You are off the charts"
Me: "You mean my sales?"
OCL: "Yeah, you sold so much this month that it won't fit on the charts I normally make so I have to re-do them to make room for your monthly sales"
Me: "Oh.. well, I suppose that's a pretty good problem for the company to have"
OCL: "Yeah, it is - congratulations"
And the super shitty thing here is that although I had a wonder woman moment for about 10 seconds... I didn't care. The joy was fleeting and I was back at my desk surfing the web for graduate schools, new jobs and funny blogs about 20 minutes later. WTF? Is this what depression feels like?
I was watching the movie Fight Club the other night and there is a scene where the main character (oh how I love thee Edward Norton) is having a conversation with his alter-ego. In it, the alter tells him "God does not love you, you are not special. And once you get over that, you will finally be free"
I think I am in a mid life freak out. I had an idyllic childhood. My parents were the ones who told me I could be president, or a rock star or... anything... and I believed them. Now - I am 40 and I am not famous or rich or powerful. I am however "off the charts" with no passion for my pursuits.
I am whining...
I hate whiners...
I need a plan and I hope it involves being thin, rich and powerful. Is that too much to ask?
***********************
No sooner do I get done writing this - I go to check my horoscope (because it's fun, don't judge) and this is mine for today...
Friday, Sep 28th, 2012 -- You have spent a lot of time analyzing the possibilities and thinking about where you want your life to go. Although your grand scheme may remain unchanged, your plan to create your ideal future continues to undergo radical change because of unexpected opportunities that have not yet come to fruition. It's difficult to know whether or not they are real, which, in turn, makes it harder to fix on one strategy now. Be patient; the truth is out there for you to find.
Jesus, I sure as shit hope so, because this mood I am in is driving me nutty. All I currently want to do is read bad fiction novels and get drunk...
I am not kidding when I say I am the person who truly forgets how old I am, what day of the week it is and everybodys birthday/anniversary/special day - etc. It's like my brain is ratcheting up for other things and I am so overtired that I really lose sight of things most people know cold.
So, yesterday I was busy. And I heard (for the first time in my life) the following:
Office cat lady: "I have to redo all the sales charts"
Me: "Oh, that's got to stink.. sorry to hear that"
Office cat lady: "well - congratulations - it's your fault"
Me: "Really?"
OCL: "You are off the charts"
Me: "You mean my sales?"
OCL: "Yeah, you sold so much this month that it won't fit on the charts I normally make so I have to re-do them to make room for your monthly sales"
Me: "Oh.. well, I suppose that's a pretty good problem for the company to have"
OCL: "Yeah, it is - congratulations"
And the super shitty thing here is that although I had a wonder woman moment for about 10 seconds... I didn't care. The joy was fleeting and I was back at my desk surfing the web for graduate schools, new jobs and funny blogs about 20 minutes later. WTF? Is this what depression feels like?
I was watching the movie Fight Club the other night and there is a scene where the main character (oh how I love thee Edward Norton) is having a conversation with his alter-ego. In it, the alter tells him "God does not love you, you are not special. And once you get over that, you will finally be free"
I think I am in a mid life freak out. I had an idyllic childhood. My parents were the ones who told me I could be president, or a rock star or... anything... and I believed them. Now - I am 40 and I am not famous or rich or powerful. I am however "off the charts" with no passion for my pursuits.
I am whining...
I hate whiners...
I need a plan and I hope it involves being thin, rich and powerful. Is that too much to ask?
***********************
No sooner do I get done writing this - I go to check my horoscope (because it's fun, don't judge) and this is mine for today...
Friday, Sep 28th, 2012 -- You have spent a lot of time analyzing the possibilities and thinking about where you want your life to go. Although your grand scheme may remain unchanged, your plan to create your ideal future continues to undergo radical change because of unexpected opportunities that have not yet come to fruition. It's difficult to know whether or not they are real, which, in turn, makes it harder to fix on one strategy now. Be patient; the truth is out there for you to find.
Jesus, I sure as shit hope so, because this mood I am in is driving me nutty. All I currently want to do is read bad fiction novels and get drunk...
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Ode to Thursday..
Which is by and far the greatest day of the week.
"Why?" you say, well because it is - in fact - the real beginning of the weekend.
Here's the deal.
By Thursday, you are starting to finalize your plans for Friday night, laying out the plan for Saturday and figuring out what you're going to do on Sunday.
If you grew up in the 80's Thursday night kicked off three days of freedom with the NBC television line up.
Seinfeld, Friends, ER. Then you hip hoppity through Friday to the Friday night party.. etc, etc.
I love Thursdays. They sound like Thor - who is a badass (regardless of the stupid move version where the pointy nosed black swan star wars chick whined the whole time.) Thor swings a monster bat. Speaking softly and carrying a big bat is cool, ergo Thor is cool, ergo Thursday. For those of you who aspire to win on Jeopardy - read this.
So if Thursday makes me smile - and it usually does- I've decided Thursdays will be a must post day.
Heretofore known as: Thursday Thunder (which loosely translates into -my fucking rant of the week).
And - because I am in a major funk for no apparent reason- I solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth (as I see it) so help me God(dess).
Old gay man waiters
What the fuck is your problem. Do I smell? Is there a reason you saunter to my table with such disdain? Do you believe that because I am somewhat overweight I will require you to do some kind of extra work? Do you have any idea how much of a foodie I really am and regardless of your own training I could likely school ya' on a few things even though right now I look a bit like a laid out Wal-mart version of a 4th grade teacher. Fuck you, old man gay waiter. You chose this gig as your career - not me. Bring me my micro brew fruit infused beer with a fucking smile before I split your lip (or tip you less than the 20% you think you are entitled to)
Skinny jean wearing Euroamericans
Just like we have white trash in America, there exists in the world no small number of Eurotrash that trot the globe. The difference is, Eurotrash is rich (otherwise they could not afford 3 week vacations in the states). Should you think you have seen one in your local major metropolitan airport - you probably have. Here's some clues:
1. there is a strange mix of expensive cologne and body odor
2. jeans - skinny jeans, set low on the waist, usually being pulled down by an ipod strategically placed so that you can see just the top - and know they paid for it
3. Adidas or some other sport wear brand top, shoes etc. paired with a big expensive bag
4. grimy hair
I want to like them for coming to America and spending their money. They just kind of smell.
Young love with no future
Have you ever found yourself looking in the paper on Sunday morning at the wedding and engagement announcements? Sometimes you can see on their faces that it is just not going to work. Sometimes it really was not meant to be. I so want to warn them.
Shaving my legs - why or why not?
Is it really necessary to have your legs shaved all the time. Even when you're wearing jeans for a few days and you are not in the mood for sex? Naw... I didn't think so. Is it also true that you generally only shave your legs when you want to get laid or are wearing a dress? Yep.... me too.
Twitter stalking
I freely admit to using social networking to stalk my kids. They are teenage boys for christsakes. Getting information out of them can be trickier than pulling gum out of your hair (and equally as messy).
"Why?" you say, well because it is - in fact - the real beginning of the weekend.
Here's the deal.
By Thursday, you are starting to finalize your plans for Friday night, laying out the plan for Saturday and figuring out what you're going to do on Sunday.
If you grew up in the 80's Thursday night kicked off three days of freedom with the NBC television line up.
Seinfeld, Friends, ER. Then you hip hoppity through Friday to the Friday night party.. etc, etc.
I love Thursdays. They sound like Thor - who is a badass (regardless of the stupid move version where the pointy nosed black swan star wars chick whined the whole time.) Thor swings a monster bat. Speaking softly and carrying a big bat is cool, ergo Thor is cool, ergo Thursday. For those of you who aspire to win on Jeopardy - read this.
So if Thursday makes me smile - and it usually does- I've decided Thursdays will be a must post day.
Heretofore known as: Thursday Thunder (which loosely translates into -my fucking rant of the week).
And - because I am in a major funk for no apparent reason- I solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth (as I see it) so help me God(dess).
Old gay man waiters
What the fuck is your problem. Do I smell? Is there a reason you saunter to my table with such disdain? Do you believe that because I am somewhat overweight I will require you to do some kind of extra work? Do you have any idea how much of a foodie I really am and regardless of your own training I could likely school ya' on a few things even though right now I look a bit like a laid out Wal-mart version of a 4th grade teacher. Fuck you, old man gay waiter. You chose this gig as your career - not me. Bring me my micro brew fruit infused beer with a fucking smile before I split your lip (or tip you less than the 20% you think you are entitled to)
Skinny jean wearing Euroamericans
Just like we have white trash in America, there exists in the world no small number of Eurotrash that trot the globe. The difference is, Eurotrash is rich (otherwise they could not afford 3 week vacations in the states). Should you think you have seen one in your local major metropolitan airport - you probably have. Here's some clues:
1. there is a strange mix of expensive cologne and body odor
2. jeans - skinny jeans, set low on the waist, usually being pulled down by an ipod strategically placed so that you can see just the top - and know they paid for it
3. Adidas or some other sport wear brand top, shoes etc. paired with a big expensive bag
4. grimy hair
I want to like them for coming to America and spending their money. They just kind of smell.
Young love with no future
Have you ever found yourself looking in the paper on Sunday morning at the wedding and engagement announcements? Sometimes you can see on their faces that it is just not going to work. Sometimes it really was not meant to be. I so want to warn them.
Shaving my legs - why or why not?
Is it really necessary to have your legs shaved all the time. Even when you're wearing jeans for a few days and you are not in the mood for sex? Naw... I didn't think so. Is it also true that you generally only shave your legs when you want to get laid or are wearing a dress? Yep.... me too.
Twitter stalking
I freely admit to using social networking to stalk my kids. They are teenage boys for christsakes. Getting information out of them can be trickier than pulling gum out of your hair (and equally as messy).
Monday, September 17, 2012
Is behavior, belief?
Monday morning.
I catch up on my email, read through a bunch of FB posts, and think about starting work.
Except... there is no work to be done. No phone calls to be made, no orders to enter, no quotes to take care of. Nothing real.
Lots of speculation though - reports that will get thrown in the trash, requests for funds that will get filed in a drawer and marketing forecasts that will have coffee spilled on them (and then get thrown in the trash).
A couple of months ago an acquaintance of mine stopped by the house to say hi. He lives about an hour away so I really only kept in touch with him through FB. I seriously, do not even have his phone number. So as we are chatting it up, he tells me he had to get off FB and all of his social networking sites because he was starting to feel inconsequential. He could not help comparing himself to others and he felt like he wasn't matching up. He shut the whole thing down in an effort to get back to focusing on his family and his own life.
I suppose I get it.
I can't help comparing myself to my perceptions about other people's lives. Are they as bored as me? Unchallenged? Sad? To take a page out of my friend's book - no. They look busy and happy and healthy. I don't believe it though.. not really.
I think most of us are stuck in a rut. Not knowing the right steps to get out. Fear manipulating our choices. Boredom blocking our way. I never thought I would be apathetic... but here I am.
All I want to do is be snarky and negative
All I really need to do is positive and move forward.
I heard on NPR today that the best way to manipulate your belief is change your behavior (some teacher study on working with problem students).
This is an ongoing theme that my head hears but my heart just can't seem to deliver...
I catch up on my email, read through a bunch of FB posts, and think about starting work.
Except... there is no work to be done. No phone calls to be made, no orders to enter, no quotes to take care of. Nothing real.
Lots of speculation though - reports that will get thrown in the trash, requests for funds that will get filed in a drawer and marketing forecasts that will have coffee spilled on them (and then get thrown in the trash).
A couple of months ago an acquaintance of mine stopped by the house to say hi. He lives about an hour away so I really only kept in touch with him through FB. I seriously, do not even have his phone number. So as we are chatting it up, he tells me he had to get off FB and all of his social networking sites because he was starting to feel inconsequential. He could not help comparing himself to others and he felt like he wasn't matching up. He shut the whole thing down in an effort to get back to focusing on his family and his own life.
I suppose I get it.
I can't help comparing myself to my perceptions about other people's lives. Are they as bored as me? Unchallenged? Sad? To take a page out of my friend's book - no. They look busy and happy and healthy. I don't believe it though.. not really.
I think most of us are stuck in a rut. Not knowing the right steps to get out. Fear manipulating our choices. Boredom blocking our way. I never thought I would be apathetic... but here I am.
All I want to do is be snarky and negative
All I really need to do is positive and move forward.
I heard on NPR today that the best way to manipulate your belief is change your behavior (some teacher study on working with problem students).
This is an ongoing theme that my head hears but my heart just can't seem to deliver...
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
My demon is a demanding bitch...
Whether you've actually seen the Twilight movies or not - you may have seen the trailer where Edward looks at Bella and says.. "you are my own special brand of heroin."
And that my dears... is my relationship with food.
I love it. I need it. I think about it hundreds of times a day.
What am I going to eat? When? Where? With who?
I eat when I'm happy, confused, depressed, hungry, not hungry, anxious, sick, bored and busy.
I love healthy food, bad food, restaurants, food trucks, eating at home, eating at parties and everything in between.
The trouble is - when you are addicted to the one thing that has the propensity to kill you it's hard to know when to stop.
My entire life revolves around food. I exercise so I can have an excuse to feed my demon. When I don't, I feed the fucker anyway and then bitch when my jeans are too tight. I justify my menu because I believe I deserve to have some happiness.
I play games with myself and my diet depending on my mood of the minute/hour/day/month.
I am so very tired of cutting deals with myself over my obsession with food.
I am tired and don't want to think about it anymore.... except that I am in love with her... my demon... and I don't know how to just eat enough to survive instead of enough to sooth my soul.
And that my dears... is my relationship with food.
I love it. I need it. I think about it hundreds of times a day.
What am I going to eat? When? Where? With who?
I eat when I'm happy, confused, depressed, hungry, not hungry, anxious, sick, bored and busy.
I love healthy food, bad food, restaurants, food trucks, eating at home, eating at parties and everything in between.
The trouble is - when you are addicted to the one thing that has the propensity to kill you it's hard to know when to stop.
My entire life revolves around food. I exercise so I can have an excuse to feed my demon. When I don't, I feed the fucker anyway and then bitch when my jeans are too tight. I justify my menu because I believe I deserve to have some happiness.
I play games with myself and my diet depending on my mood of the minute/hour/day/month.
I am so very tired of cutting deals with myself over my obsession with food.
I am tired and don't want to think about it anymore.... except that I am in love with her... my demon... and I don't know how to just eat enough to survive instead of enough to sooth my soul.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Pigtails on women are silly
Stop the madness!
If you are over 40, nay 20 - there is no reason I can understand why you would ever need or choose to wear your hair in pigtails or, better yet, braided pigtails.
Truly, help me understand. I get that you went to a few Grateful Dead shows in college... tried to follow Phish but decided that was a far stretch from the real thing.. and finally, gave up and turned to some "cat fish blue" on the weekends.
I get that you love healthy, sustainable, organic agriculture. I appreciate that you still own and buy Birkenstocks. I realize you still have a jingly ankle bracelet in your jewelry box, an old Guatemalan pouch filled with shake from about 15 years ago and your tarot cards upstairs wrapped in a silk scarf. (oh, wait, is that just me??)
But, why - in the name of Jerry and the boys- do you need pigtails? Oh.. and a pioneer woman scarf? I little babushka feel, really.
I can rock an old school hippie vibe with my hair pulled back in a simple ponytail.
Just sayin...
If you are over 40, nay 20 - there is no reason I can understand why you would ever need or choose to wear your hair in pigtails or, better yet, braided pigtails.
Truly, help me understand. I get that you went to a few Grateful Dead shows in college... tried to follow Phish but decided that was a far stretch from the real thing.. and finally, gave up and turned to some "cat fish blue" on the weekends.
I get that you love healthy, sustainable, organic agriculture. I appreciate that you still own and buy Birkenstocks. I realize you still have a jingly ankle bracelet in your jewelry box, an old Guatemalan pouch filled with shake from about 15 years ago and your tarot cards upstairs wrapped in a silk scarf. (oh, wait, is that just me??)
But, why - in the name of Jerry and the boys- do you need pigtails? Oh.. and a pioneer woman scarf? I little babushka feel, really.
I can rock an old school hippie vibe with my hair pulled back in a simple ponytail.
Just sayin...
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Washing walls
Who in the hell washes their walls?
Left to my own devices I would drink beer and listen to country music while reading a Dan Brown-esque novel and getting a tan. hmmm.. maybe this weekend?
I have always worked. At 15 my mom used to drop me off in the summer at the local no-tel mo-tel so I could clean rooms for the folks who owned the place. (for 20 years I could NOT stand the smell of curry)
At 16 I did exactly 3 days a McDonalds.
I worked through high school at the True Value hawking lumber and toilet bowl parts to my friends' parents.
College is a dizzying array of waitressing gigs and radio. First shift, third shift.. you name it. I secretly fashioned myself a modern day Flo from Alice's Diner...
After school - it was real world radio and tv jobs.
During babies - it was teaching aerobics
After babies - it was the family fence business
Now - it's somebody else's manufacturing business
And at no point through any of this did it ever once occur to me that I should spend a day of my life washing the walls of my house/apartment/condo. I work all the time...
Normally my house looks pretty clean. It doesn't smell and you can easily pull the "5 second rule" on a dropped hot dog without a trip to the bathroom or the emergency room 8 hours later. What I can't figure out though is how to make enough time in my life to wash the walls. WTF? Here's how the wall washing would play out in my world (and my justification for not doing it).
"I am going to wash the walls today"
"I suppose I should do it one room at a time"
"I will start in my bedroom and work down through the house"
"I should dust everything first"
"Those louver doors are going to take about 45 minutes to detail them and get it right"
"If I am doing the louver doors, I should probably clean out the closet"
"I need to go get some new vacuum cleaner bags so after I get everything pulled out I can clean the floor under all the shoes"
"I need to donate those shoes and the clothes to Goodwill - I should pick up some garbage bags too.."
So... 4 hours later clothes sorted and louvers dusted it's half way through the day and I would not have even washed walls in ONE room.
I really want to tell myself that if you're going to do it - do it right - one time - that'll hold.
What I think really choose to do is - look the other way.
I am very good at looking the other way - I wish I was better at doing it right.
Left to my own devices I would drink beer and listen to country music while reading a Dan Brown-esque novel and getting a tan. hmmm.. maybe this weekend?
I have always worked. At 15 my mom used to drop me off in the summer at the local no-tel mo-tel so I could clean rooms for the folks who owned the place. (for 20 years I could NOT stand the smell of curry)
At 16 I did exactly 3 days a McDonalds.
I worked through high school at the True Value hawking lumber and toilet bowl parts to my friends' parents.
College is a dizzying array of waitressing gigs and radio. First shift, third shift.. you name it. I secretly fashioned myself a modern day Flo from Alice's Diner...
After school - it was real world radio and tv jobs.
During babies - it was teaching aerobics
After babies - it was the family fence business
Now - it's somebody else's manufacturing business
And at no point through any of this did it ever once occur to me that I should spend a day of my life washing the walls of my house/apartment/condo. I work all the time...
Normally my house looks pretty clean. It doesn't smell and you can easily pull the "5 second rule" on a dropped hot dog without a trip to the bathroom or the emergency room 8 hours later. What I can't figure out though is how to make enough time in my life to wash the walls. WTF? Here's how the wall washing would play out in my world (and my justification for not doing it).
"I am going to wash the walls today"
"I suppose I should do it one room at a time"
"I will start in my bedroom and work down through the house"
"I should dust everything first"
"Those louver doors are going to take about 45 minutes to detail them and get it right"
"If I am doing the louver doors, I should probably clean out the closet"
"I need to go get some new vacuum cleaner bags so after I get everything pulled out I can clean the floor under all the shoes"
"I need to donate those shoes and the clothes to Goodwill - I should pick up some garbage bags too.."
So... 4 hours later clothes sorted and louvers dusted it's half way through the day and I would not have even washed walls in ONE room.
I really want to tell myself that if you're going to do it - do it right - one time - that'll hold.
What I think really choose to do is - look the other way.
I am very good at looking the other way - I wish I was better at doing it right.
Monday, August 13, 2012
I'm back.. with a LONG damn list
So... I've been away awhile. Kind of a long while actually, for no other reason than I've been damn lazy and distracted.
Back in the day I started this as a way to keep myself on track with the "I want to get healthy" thing. In reality, all the "I want to get healthy" thing really means is: "I want to look smokin' hot in those jeans." Don't lie - you know it's true.
For the record I am back on the health tip but it's going to start taking a backseat to the screaming in my head. I don't know if it's because I am getting older or meaner but my patience for the world is waning. Never fear my dears... I still get all hearts and rainbows every now and again but the shiznit I have seen over the summer has got me ready to bitch slap the next size 2 soccer mom who calls herself fat.
Angst? Yep. Frustration? You bet.
I've done a whole summer of beach vacations and parties so I am ready to get this thing started again...Here's the coming attractions - (so I can take them off Evernote on my phone)
Old gay man waiters
Skinny jean wearing Euroamericans
Young love with no future
Why bud light may, in fact, be the worst beer ever foisted upon Americans
Cheese people
Washing walls
Shaving my legs - why or why not?
Overeating to compensate for feelings of inferiority
Expectations and disappointments..
Twitter stalking
20 somethings
Yes - I can see where this going. I may be one of the nicest people you ever meet in real life - but here, in this space, I am going to tell my version of the truth... and it won't be pretty or edited for television.
I need to purge so grab a bucket.
Back in the day I started this as a way to keep myself on track with the "I want to get healthy" thing. In reality, all the "I want to get healthy" thing really means is: "I want to look smokin' hot in those jeans." Don't lie - you know it's true.
For the record I am back on the health tip but it's going to start taking a backseat to the screaming in my head. I don't know if it's because I am getting older or meaner but my patience for the world is waning. Never fear my dears... I still get all hearts and rainbows every now and again but the shiznit I have seen over the summer has got me ready to bitch slap the next size 2 soccer mom who calls herself fat.
Angst? Yep. Frustration? You bet.
I've done a whole summer of beach vacations and parties so I am ready to get this thing started again...Here's the coming attractions - (so I can take them off Evernote on my phone)
Old gay man waiters
Skinny jean wearing Euroamericans
Young love with no future
Why bud light may, in fact, be the worst beer ever foisted upon Americans
Cheese people
Washing walls
Shaving my legs - why or why not?
Overeating to compensate for feelings of inferiority
Expectations and disappointments..
Twitter stalking
20 somethings
Yes - I can see where this going. I may be one of the nicest people you ever meet in real life - but here, in this space, I am going to tell my version of the truth... and it won't be pretty or edited for television.
I need to purge so grab a bucket.
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