Month: October 2012
I’m going to keep this brief. Merely for the reason of wanting sleep and I need a lot of creative thinking in the upcoming hours. And crisis management? Yikes…it sure takes a lot out of you. Here’s the kicker…I’d still like to assume the position of Press Secretary for the President of the United States some day.
Ambitious, I know, but I have to keep those big dreams coming.
In all seriousness, I should wash my hands and take these bad boy contacts out of my eyes. Oh, and in case you forgot, it’s going to be Halloween very, very soon. I decided to nix the fancy costume this year. I’m normally one of those weirdos who goes all crazy for their costume, spends waaaaay too much money and puts waaaaaaay too much effort into the overall look. But I like it, and it’s a great escape for a few hours one night of the year. Even if you choose not to drink. You still have a damn good time.
“Everyone realizes that one can believe little of what people say about each other. But it is not so widely realized that even less can one trust what people say about themselves.”
The English intellect, Rebecca West, has quite a point there. I guess it’s a good thing then that I rarely call myself sexy. That way, one can assume I’m attempting to be sexy on a regular basis. Cuz I’m not. Trust me, if you ever met me in person, it’s blatantly clear when I’m trying to be sexy.
If I have ever obtained the status of “sexy”, it was completely by accident.
I used to hate young women taking advantage of Halloween and using it as an excuse to dress as scantily as possible. One Halloween, I decided to try it myself. I went as a Warrior Fairy, applied lots of mini stars around my eyes, and had a very ethereal make-up design going on. I curled my hair and slipped on my heeled brown boots. The outfit was a short one…the skirt dropped just below my rear end (hey, my legs are very nice and I had been working on my thighs for some time. It was time to show them off!) and Hello Cleavage! The girls really wanted to come out and play that night.
To sum it all up, I looked pretty good. It was all in fun of Halloween, after all. Once I dressed like that for a night, I understood the distinction of dressing so the whole world can see what your momma gave you, and dressing up in a sexier manner than normal. I often lean in the direction of the latter.
This past weekend’s costume? A gypsy. Hair has volumized as I could make it, and covered in so much hairspray I could sleep in the hair do and there wasn’t a dent the following morning. Re-dick-you-lus, is what it was. Skin-tight black yoga pants and a simple black tank top. Helped my hair stay up with a leopard print head scarf, and lots of black eye liner and bangle bracelets. Add in a pair of fun dangly earrings, and I had a cheap costume that was easy to dance in.
Hell, it was a good weekend, even if the Halloween celebration was a little early. You party when you can, have a drink while you’re able, and dance like no one is watching. Especially when your best friends are in town.
Jedi know how to have a good time, and we know how to hide it while out in public. That’s why we’re rarely seen out and about partying up like your average person.
We’re sneaky like that 🙂
That took far too long for this stupid typing block to load properly so I could finally type here. And yes, I realized I haven’t written again a long time. Guess what? When you don’t have a laptop of your own, you’re working 12 hours a day and all you can think about is a heaping bowl of Edy’s frozen yogurt when you finally kick your shoes off for the day, I know I should feel like writing, but I don’t.
Instead, I choose to turn into a vegetative couch potato and fall asleep, ready to do it again the next day.
On a different note, last night while out and about with my crew for a Halloween party, I think I have stumbled upon my ulterior personality. For karaoke, for dancing late at night, for approaching men…I have discovered my inner party girl and she is amazing. Last night, I was always surrounded by a group of three or more guys, and I was loving it. Or should I say, Raja was loving it.
Hey, this is perfectly acceptable to tap into a new side of myself. If Beyoncé can have Sasha Fierce, I can have Raja. Everyone loved her, too.
Other than plenty of tequila and dancing (and rattling my belly dancing belt all over the place. Do you know how hard it is to sit down on a sheet of coins? It’s uncomfortable when you forget that’s what’s covering your lower half), I had a pretty jam-packed weekend of dress shopping (the wedding is in less than a week!), hockey watching (damn those nachos looked delicious), and working (it just never stops.)
The dress I bought instantly reminded me of Kate Middleton. Between her and Keira Knightley, I have my fashion choice muses. It’s cream-colored with black across the back and over the shoulders, and it hits right above the knee. The most important part of it? It hugs me beautifully in the waist. Much like Ms. Middleton’s most noted fashion tip: Cinch it in the middle, people!
On top of that, a little trip to Victoria’s Secret saw me coming home with a new (and dare I say Raja-inspired) bodice-corset piece in the sexiest color of purple that I have ever seen. It’s quickly become my ‘I need to feel sexy underneath these normal clothes’ lingerie item. So, so sexy, and I dare say I walk a little taller. You never know…I might be wearing it right now as I type this.
It’s really bad. All while shopping, I saw about a hundred and one new pieces I wanted to add to my working wardrobe. My bank account would quickly become zero if I ever let myself go clothes happy at the mall. Trust me, I may not seem like a fashion diva, but I care about the way I look as much as the next person.
“What do I think about the way most people dress? Most people are not something one thinks about.”
The fickle fashion editor, Diana Vreeland, is on to something there. There are so many people out in the world who have been labeled as total Fashion Statements. I look at them and wonder, what the hell are you wearing?I’m sure people do the same mental thought through their minds when they look at me, but whatever. I wear what I want, when I want.
Hence the reason why I sewed a couple of Jedi Academy patches on a pair of black sweatpants and call them my Jedi pants. You wear what you like, and they look badass!
But, on that same line, here are a few things I found to be incredibly badass for my Fabulous Friday, and maybe a nod or two towards Halloween. But man, my Friday was pretty Fabulous. Here’s why:
Fabulous Haunted Decoration Idea:
Fabulous Self-Made Decor:
Fabulous Date Idea:
Fabulous Halloween Decoration:
Fabulous Past Halloween Costume:
Fabulous Creativity Jumpstart:
Sad to think the weekend is just about over. As a working girl, the free days seem to fly by faster than usual. Probably doesn’t help that the wedding is less than 7 days away, and I have so, so, so, so much to do! Am I forgetting something? I don’t know! That’s half the fun of it, right?
Keep it real, all, and wear those Jedi pants with pride.
I wear mine everywhere. Including the grocery store and the dance studio 🙂
Have you randomly called your mom or dad in the middle of the day just to say, “Hey, what’s going on?”
I did that this afternoon while I was eating my lunch, and I thought my mom was having a mini heart attack. I don’t normally call in the middle of the day, I know that. But sometimes you just want to call and talk to your mom. I’ve been feeling rather blue lately, and for a variety of reasons, but still. I just wanted to talk to my mother. Is that such a crime? I don’t think it is, but still, I could tell she was worried when she picked up the phone.
How do I know this? Other than the higher than normal pitch to her voice? The first question out of her mouth when she confirmed was wasn’t at work answering her phone against the rules (come on, we all do it!), “Is everything okay with you?”
Other than feeling a tad bit depressed about a lot of things, yes, I am doing pretty okay. Just lots to do and not enough time to do it. We’ve scheduled time to talk tonight, so hopefully I won’t end up being a big ball of tears tonight when we catch up and talk. I literally told her I’m done being a terrible daughter, and she sort of laughed, but I think I have hurt her feelings by not calling on a more regular basis. Especially when I went through another “Do I have cancer, or do I not have cancer” scare. For a stretch of time, other than when I was looking for a job and finally landed one, I know she was worried I’d call her in the middle of the day and tell her the worst news a parent, or anyone for that matter, ever wants to hear.
Bright side! I’m okay, so I’m going to stop being depressed now.
“Having breast cancer is massive amounts of no fun. First they mutilate you; then they poison you; then they burn you. I have been on blind dates better than that.”
The insight from our first lady of liberal journalism, Molly Ivins. I know I say I hate my love life and how its playing out right now, but I would never want to sit in on a blind date, or any date, like that. Nor would I ever wish cancer upon someone. It’s just yucky business, and it’s very sad how many people are affected by it, either directly or indirectly.
My ex-boyfriend texted me out of the blue the other day. Purely for no reason. The main question on his mind: Is this still your number. I didn’t respond right away, and I’m not sure if that freaked him out or only made him bolder, but I was out of the room where my phone was skittering across the table. I picked it up and found literally 15 text messages from him. It was a bunch of nonsense, but it was him being him. Not saying he’s full of nonsense, but it’s his sense of humor and when he feels awkward, he uses humor to try to lighten the situation. Through text messaging is no exception.
Indeed, I still do have the same number and he got a yes to that question. Only after another 20-some text message (Again talking about nothing) did he finally ask me how I was doing. Responses became very short and to the point from that point on.
Why do I bring this up? Other than asking how he was doing and what he was up to (after not talking for probably 6 months, and not having the nerve to tell me he moved away), I really wanted to let him have it. I wanted to tell him about my recent health issues, and how he needed to take it into consideration. But I decided against it. Let what happened between us be. Let it lie and try not to stir up the muck as much as possible.
It was really hard, though.
I should let the past be what it is, remember the good times, and move on to my future, but when someone hurts me really badly, I have the nudging to hurt them back just as much. It’s a bad, bad trait, and thankfully I’m able to recognize me motives are ill-placed.
I must apologize.
I have not been up-to-date on anything. As you have probably noticed, I haven’t written in a while and I haven’t written consistently when I manage to sit down with a keyboard and get things out on the screen. You probably don’t care as much, but I care a whole lot. I’ve recently let it sink in that I’m a perfectionist. I’m ony of those people who ahs to be “on” all the time. Mediocre is not something I associate myself with. It’s always top-notch quality or go home. I never do anything poorly, and if I feel like I am, I revamp my thinking.
It’s what we creative types do.
It’s been a little more difficult as of late. Things on the professional front have been very, very busy. My personal life? Well, what exists of it has been exciting, but it’s not much. Do not think I’m kidding when I say nothing exciting is happening. Romantically? Eh. Nothing worth noting. Professionally? Up to my nose in projects and frustrations, but I’m really loving every minute of it. Personally? My head is about ready to implode on itself, and my heart is taking all that it can without ripping apart by its heartstrings (no pun intended.)
The universe is either playing a very cruel joke on me, or it’s trying to give me a blatant nudge in a certain direction. My heart literally cannot take anymore of this torment, and my head needs to stop thinking about the ‘what ifs’ of life. Have you ever played the game of ‘If this moment in my life had been different, how might my entire future have changed?’ Yeah, it’s not so much fun playing at 2 in the morning when you have to be up at 5. I like my sleep, especially after 2 weeks of 2-a-day workouts. (To occupy my mind with physical anguish. That is what I’m doing with myself. Ugh.)
I will say it’s nice to feel a nice soreness throughout my biceps these past couple of days, despite all the grumblings. I like looking down at my arms and seeing a small bulge of muscle. It especially makes me feel good when my sister walks into the bathroom while I’m brushing my teeth, she sees my flexed arm and exclaims, “Holy God what have you been doing?”
“I’m a secretary. On a good day, I type ninety-five words a minute. On a bad day, I show up drunk in my pajamas.”
The punchline pro, Mary Beth Cowan, ties up all of my feelings in one short, sweet sentence. Of the past 2 weeks of my life, anyways. I literally cannot keep anything straight.
I wish my excuse was I’m showing up to work drunk. Why? It’s be an easier explanation as to why I’m locking myself out of my office on a daily basis, why I’m found just staring off into oblivion when I should be posting things to my company’s blog, or why I break down crying in the middle of Target because of a couple holding hands too adorably passed by me in the Star Wars toy aisle. (You think I’m kidding. HA! I wish I was. Really, I do.)
Emotions are an ugly, ugly thing and there are many days where I want to flip a switch and it would turn off. For good. Done. Over with. Done-zo! Alas, it will not be so. Good thing I’ve discovered tea, and in heavy doses (possibly mixed with a little bit of antihistamine…so I get drowsy and fall to sleep a little faster than usual.) Sleep is a precious thing.
On top of my mental and emotional anguish these days, I’m over my head in wedding day preparations. OH MY GOD THE WEDDING IS NEXT WEEK. There, I said it. It’s out there, and I can freak out about it some more tomorrow. seriously, though. Holy Shit the wedding is next weekend. Amazing how fast 10 months flies by, and I’m not even the bride of this wedding! I’m the Maid of Honor…a very important job, to be sure, but still. How my sister is keeping it all together so calmly is beyond me. I guess I shouldn’t talk though. Every time I’m asked how my projects are coming along, I simply smile and say, “They’ll get done. No worries.”
Or I kick her out of my room and yell at the bride to stop micromanaging me. I may have been a more than a little irritable that day.
Anyways, good thing I’ve taken a lot of Jedi lessons to heart. not just when it comes to physical road blocks, like working out and I feel like my legs are about to give out if I do one more lunge. Seriously, if you want a good motivation, just keep repeating to yourself, “Jedi Never Quit”, and you’ll be running that extra mile in no time. I’m serious. Try it if you don’t believe me. But the Jedi mentality has also allowed me to take a deep breath when things don’t always go as planned (like with this video…KNOCK ON WOOD before something terrible happens.) I’m going to get everything accomplished and with time to spare. I swear by it. I may only get to be Maid of Honor once in my lifetime, and I’m going to do it right.
That is my Jedi oath…at least for the next 2 weeks 🙂
Nostalgia. So many feelings came rushing back to me in the course of an afternoon, I don’t know where to begin. It was an afternoon of observations. Observations of interest, some of my own intellectual notice, and some are just plain silly thoughts.
“Saying that men talk about baseball in order to avoid talking about their feelings is the same as saying that women talk about their feelings in order to avoid talking about baseball.”
So here’s the deal then, Deborah Tannen, one who has taken to demystifying the mother tongue. I need someone to talk to about my feelings.
Prepare yourself: My mind is about to be unleashed…
Back in high school. Remember freaking high school? I was named Most Spirited during my senior year. Decked out in red, white and blue, and now I’m decking out in maroon and gold. But what do I miss most about heading to the football games? A football cheering buddy. Someone who high-fivedme, yelled at me when I was cheering too close to their ear, and someone who poked me in the shoulder whenever they caught sight of a nice pair of buns in tight football pants.
No way in hell would I go back to high school. Too many raging hormones in myself and in every one else. Literally. High schoolers, especially high school girls, are bat shit crazy. I used to be one of those bat shit crazy girls.
I went all during high school without a boyfriend. Well, that’s not true. Me and the smartest boy in class were a couple for a while there. Then. I headed off to Australia for three weeks over the summer, and I came back and blatantly didn’t know where we stood. Neither did he. So what did we do? We ignored each other. Bam. No boyfriend for me. Did I really care at the time? Hell no! I was a freak of nature who had big dreams of being a Hollywood starlet by 18. I had bigger things to worry about.
My unfulfilled dream? I always wanted to date an athlete. To wear his jersey, to cheer him on during each and every game, maybe share a celebratory kiss after their glorious win. Pointing to the Jumbotron, and screaming, “That’s my boyfriend!” Mostly, I just wanted to wear his jersey during game days. I don’t need to tell you how good I look in a football jersey. Throw in an awesome, messy up-do and I am rocking the athletic look.
I miss sports. Being a part of a team, and still being my own self. Bringing my own flair and charm to the court, and letting out my rage. Seriously, I miss dominating on the tennis court. The self-hating attitude when I didn’t run fast enough? Not so much. However, I sure had nice, lean legs from all those sprints…
There was a kid practicing parallel parking in the lot next to where my car happened to be. I stood there and recalled my days of practicing the same thing, except with hay bales my dad set up for me in our front yard. The advantages of living on a farm. An overabundance of hay bales.
You know what else I miss? Showing cattle at the county fair. Getting up at 4 am to wash my cattle sucked since they only ever had freezing cold water for us to use, but the early morning nap I’d reward myself with after everyone was fed and settling into fresh bedding was worth it.
I always feel more beautiful whenever I set my feet back on the farm ground. When I feel more beautiful, I feel like I can conquer the world. Thanks to two special bartenders last night (you know who you are, lucky reader.)
Wearing power suits, clicking high heels out of the elevator, my own office, and a full lunch hour where I could actually LEAVE to get things done…I love it. I love my new job. Returning to the old stomping grounds was a treat, although I had to remind myself not to go behind the front desk and get to work.
An even better treat? Seeing everyone I used to work with. Oh yes, this included my two favorite bartenders. A Cosmo on the house, and throw in a glass of Riesling? I’m down even more so. Getting walked to my car reminded me of a few things. How much I miss having friends of the male sex, how to be treated like a lady, and the spark of intrigue that lights my gut when certain glances are thrown my way.
Oh yes, I’m asking for trouble and the scenarios have been played out in my head. Thank goodness my fingers don’t have minds of their own when my cell phone is around. But wouldn’t it be great if there was a tap on my sliding glass doors, pull back the curtain and there stood Josh Duhamel? He seriously makes me oozy all over with lust. Have you looked into those eyes? Probably not since you’re wrinkling an eyebrow at me wondering what the hell it feels like to be “oozy with lust.”
I don’t like being alone, and waking up from dreams where I’m being showered with love and affection to a world where I am so incredibly alone in the romance department is terrible disheartening. It could be said that I have loved and lost. It’s true. A break-up means losing one you love in a very special way.
My heart may still be hurting a year later. Ridiculous, yes. It’s been a year. Yet, the world has decided to throw more couples than I can handle in front of my face and it makes me hate myself a little bit more. And the wedding engagements on Facebook. I may delete my account until the new year.
Stay strong, Jedi. There is someone out there for all of us, The road is simply longer and lonelier for some of us.
Struggling with self-image is not a fight about I’m about win. Nor is it one I’m about to lose.
I’m simply sitting on my couch, writing here to you after a lovely and high-spirited Zumba class, and all I can think about is how my hips still look chubby in the mirrors while I’m dancing my ass off.
The first thing you learn when posing for pictures is that you never stand straight-on toward the camera. It makes everything go wider than it actually is. Mirrors don’t add on 10 extra pounds when you look at your reflection, do they? Anyways, I look wide and chubby, but the instant I turn to either one of my sides? I’m as slim and skinny as every woman in that room dreams to be (maybe except my sister, who is smaller than me in every possible respect.)
If I could only look at myself sideways for the rest of my life. I consciously made a decision yesterday while eating my lunch. I’m never going to let myself get fat. I’m going to lose the extra 5-10 pounds I’ve put my mind to losing in the next couple of months, but I am never, ever going to let myself get overweight.
I’m also going to be a kick-ass party thrower. I have lots of books, lots of tips, and tons of ideas. Watch out world. When I make my millions and have many, many friends, I’m going to be the party-throwing queen.
“If we had not been pretty, I think we would have been drowned like little dogs. That’s my mother!”
The fantastic, but alarming, words of Zsa Zsa Gabor, the sassy socialite. Oh yes, who else would have the guts to say such a thing.
It’s a struggle every woman is going to have with herself from the moment she hears the word ‘pretty’ and starts asking herself if this word applies to her. The minute she picks up that first tube of lipstick, she’s getting sucked into the horrible wind tunnel of make-up land. Don’t get me wrong, make-up is so much fun and really is addicting.
It’s when you become a slave to the product is when you have to worry.
If any woman in the world tripped upon a magic lamp containing a genie who would grant one wish upon her, I really, really hope she would not be selfish (because I know I would.) With her selflessness, she would grant the female world freedom of self-judgement. No longer would she look in the mirror and compare herself to every other single woman out there. No teenagers would have eating disorders in the attempt to be “perfect.” We would all discover our strengths and talents, and find our beauty from them.
But I tend to live in a fantasy world 95% of the time.
I am one girl who loves to eat, and eat well. I have stacks of recipe books I intend to cook my way through. Indeed, each and every one, be it a 100 gourmet dinner or 2000 decadent desserts. Oh yes, I do love my food.
It’s long overdue, but here is my New Day Sunday for the month of September. There were great discoveries last month at the grocery store, and if you haven’t tried them already, next time you’re in the grocery store, add an item or two to your shopping list. Life is worth living. Don’t let a few bucks set you back from delighting your taste buds.
Seriously, don’t hold back. Ever.
Before Anakin turned to the dark side, he was labeled a lot of things. Reckless, brave, a witty combatant, fearless behind the controls of a fighter spacecraft. Regardless of what they said about him, he grabbed life by the horns and let the ride happen.
It might also be the reason why he let his emotions get the best of him, which turned into his downfall…but that’s not what we’re focusing on here.
Get out there and try something new. Even if all it happens to be is a new flavor of ice cream.
I haven’t written in too long, and I only have a limited amount time for my catch-up here, so let’s get down to it.
Hockey games and martini’s go together so, so, so WELL! I have season tickets with my sister, but due to a destination bachelorette party her friends planned for her, she was away for the first home hockey game of the season. Plus it was season opener. How dare she?! (I was invited to this party, but alas, I had to work. So more hockey for me!)
I asked a guy to go with me whom I’ve had drinks with before. He more than happily agreed, and we had quite a good time. I forgot how refreshing it is to go on a date with someone who actually enjoys sporting events as much as I do. No crude marks for wearing my team’s jersey, or for going crazy when we made a goal, or getting annoyed when I yelled at the refs for their crappy calls. It was SO NICE.
After the game and fighting the swarming mobs of cars trying to get out the parking lot as quickly as I was attempting, we met up at nice little classy bar for a few drinks. A couple of cucumber presses later, and I am falling down the single step separating our table from the actual floor. No, I was not drunk, but I certainly was tipsy. So sue me! Tucked away in a little corner, it only helped the mood when he pulled me in for a kiss of his own.
Oh my goodness, I just got goosebumps remembering it.
“I honestly believe there is absolutely nothing like going to bed with a good book. Or a friend who’s read one.”
Naughty, naughty Phyllis Diller, the doyenne of domestic comedy.
No, neither of us went home with the other. We have higher morals and standards than that (and it was only the 2nd date.) But he did kiss me good night again while we parted ways on the street corner. How much romantic does it get?
Agin with the goosebumps. Oh-oh-oh!
I have so many things to get done for the wedding in the next three weeks that I literally can’t think about romancing or romancing for that matter. I simply have too many obligations right now, and I certainly need to get on the ball if I’m going to get ‘Maid of Honor’ printed onto a layering tank top on time. Ultimate MOH fantasy? A crisis has occurred on the morning of the wedding, and I rip open the front of my button-down shirt (because everyone knows when you go to the salon to get your hair done, you wear a button-down shirt so you don’t have to pull a shirt up and over your head hence wrecking your hair!) and beneath the shirt is my flashing ‘MOH’ shirt, and I run to the rescue with my nifty emergency kit, and I save the day!
AND THE CROWD GOES WILD!
Alas, I really hope that doesn’t happen. The wedding day needs to go smoothly. God only knows what else He has in store for that day other than what we’re all expecting.
On that note I’m going to be taking off now so I can meet some old friends for a very late dinner. Since the hockey game, I’ve turned into a total athletics junkie. So what else are you supposed to do…but show your team spirit?!
Here are a few ways for you to extend your athletic cheer!
*So adorable! Hand-dipped football strawberries!
*Add sporty style to your favorite bottles of vino.
*Cute cutting board is made from durable bamboo.
*Make charming football cupcakes with this decorating kit!
*Grill up a great time. Cuisinart’s”Petit Gourmet” portable tabletop model is perfect for tailgating!
Sweet dreams, my friends, and this Jedi is bursting with adventures to share and lessons learned.
Until next time…Charge On!
There are so many ideas swirling around inside my tiny little brain. I don’t know where to start. They’re all such fantastic ideas, and I have the resources and knowledge in how to get them started, but time is an issue. Where do I find time to start them, and more importantly, where do I find the time to follow through on them to completion?
If I have a fault, and it’s a pretty major one, it’s that I have too much energy when it comes to starting projects. I start with gusto and so much enthusiasm it makes anyone listening want to puke up the lunch they had three days ago. I’m strong through the first so many hiccups and bumps along the road, but once we take that first major turn around the corner? That’s when I literally hit a wall and just stare at it, wondering what the hell my next step is.
I tell myself I’m stepping back to evaluate, to let it all sink in so I can choose from all my options. Unfortunately, that usually means I drop the project entirely because, in the meantime, I’m “Stepping back to evaluate”, I’ve probably started another project. Which will be doomed to the same path as Project #1. Before you know it, I have a pile of half-finished projects. Sometimes the fire is reignited in me when I take a moment or two to revisit. More times than not, I look at it and say, “It was a great idea!”
Probably not a smart thing t be blabbing all over the internet where potential future employers could read this, but if anything, they should appreciate my honesty, and let’s face it. I recognize a weakness of mine, and I know how to avoid it, especially when the project absolutely needs to get done.
Take for example, the card box I am making for my sister’s wedding (which is in, like 23 days…not even.) I have the material I am going to use to cover the three different sized boxes, which I am going to stack on top of each other. I need to measure and cut out the card slots in each box, attach the fabric to the walls of each box, and then buy the ribbon I’m going to wrap around each layer…plus bows! And lace for the edges where the fabric is going to look icky. Anyways, I have all this stuff ready, but it continues to sit on a heap on my floor and I just stare at it. This is something that has to get done. I mean, it’s my sister and its her wedding and I’m her freaking Maid of Honor…I cant just let this slide. Oh helllll no!
Plus, I still have to learn how to sing a song for the ceremony, write my MOH speech, finish her slide show video (which is really, really lacking at the moment) and assemble an emergency item kit for the Big Day. My motto? Be prepared for everything and anything. I’ve been a part of my fair share of weddings, and there’s always one things someone needs that NO ONE has, and it’s something very ordinary, like a safety-pin.
I’m not going to let anything like that happen on the day where I need to be on top of every little detail, right down to the pen we’re using to sign the marriage license. It would be bad luck to try to sign the thing, and the pen dried out. (How awful would that be? I may cry si that happens to me on my wedding day!)
“I’d rather have people love me or hate me than have no opinion of me. Indifference is scary.”
I heart the depth of your words, Lady Gaga, the performance artist we all should know and love. Yes, some think she is too dramatic, too theatrical, or just downright out of her mind insane. But I love her. I love her music, I love how comfortable she is with herself, I love her confidence, and I love her ability to express herself in whatever way she sees fit. While I may not agree with a dress made out of raw meat, she took a stand for something she believed in, and that is something we all need to take note of and follow suit.
It’s also a solid reason why I’m not going to give a damn if someone says I’m “too prepared” or “too psychotic” about everything concerning my MOH duties. I’m ready to make the best damn impression a person can on someone’s wedding. Look, it’s not my day…it’s my sister’s, and I want it to be absolutely perfect. I’ll do everything within my power to make it so.
But back to Gaga…her music is damn catchy. I don’t care who you are. Even when the kids on Glee performed a few of her numbers, I couldn’t help but jam out. There is just something…a certain essence she had captured within them that allow us to scream for joy within the bellies of our souls (and I really hope she is on the music list for my sis’ wedding day. I am going to rip up that dance floor, let me tell you!)
My contacts are being all sorts of funky right now, and I don’t like it one bit. Good thing I always carry my glasses in my purse these days. I think I’m going to pop each lens out before heading to Job Numero Dos this afternoon. I know…it’s a Friday and I’m going to head from one job to the other. Kill me now. Honestly, I don’t know how much longer job #2 is going to stay on my schedule. Things are getting downright icky there, too. A part-time job that only schedules you 10 hours a week maximum shouldn’t be this stressful (and the stress isn’t worth the extra $100-some bucks every two weeks, let me tell you.)
Don’t let the small things keep you down, my fellow Jedi. There is a much bigger world out there, and we need to reach out and seize what it offers us. To help get you in the right mindset, here my Midweek Smiles to put a smile on that face:
– Never underestimate the power of hope.
– You are and always will be a true beauty.
– Any day can be a new beginning.
– Give your energy to your dreams, not your stress.
– You inspire smiles.
– Why wait for your future when you can create it?
– Believe! You are destinedto achieve!
I have never been so excited to go home after work and put laundry away. You get to a point where the chaos in your room (although ordinary and somewhat calming) gets to be too much, and you need to cleanse the aura of the space. I’m sorry if that got to be too new-agey for you, but its true. Declutter your room, declutter your life.
It’s amazing what a small improvement like that can do to a person’s room.
Now, take the advice of Dame Gaga, and just dance! The weekend is just about to descend upon us, and we best prepare!
I’m probably going to regret these words in the morning, but here goes nothing: I feel disgusting.
Yep, I sure do. Why, you might be asking yourself? Why would someone who eats less than 1500 calories a day (naturally) feel disgusting in her own flesh and skin? I’m putting myself through hell right now, that’s why.
I’ve signed myself up for 8-weeks of fitness classes and tomorrow is the first Wednesday class. Not so bad…until you realize it’s at 7 am in the morning. Yup, you heard me right. That early in the morning, and then I have a full 8-hour day ahead of me. What am I going to do when it’s not yoga? I sweat on a very manly level, and what happens when we get to kickboxing or step?
I’m going to be soaked, and I’ll only have 20 minutes to look presentable for my office afterwards. I just need my hair to cooperate one morning a week. That’s not so much to ask, is it? We shall see how the next two months play out.
On top of everything else right now, I opened the oven to remove my single-serve pizza and the heat blast not only fogged up my glasses with steam, but it also melted my mascara to my eyelashes and I could feel them stick to my upper eyelids. Ugh I’m just a mess right now!
“To be a star is to own the world and all the people in it. After a taste of stardom, everything else is poverty.”
Those are the words of Hedy Lamarr, who is quite the scene stealer herself. Why do these words ring true to my soul? I’m not making a fuss over myself right now because I feel like I’m lacking my ‘star quality.’
Oh, what am I saying? I’ve been telling myself for a while that I’ve lost my personal sense of stardom. I used to be the star in my own life. Friends, many invitations to hang-out and party, money to spend on books/clothes/music, and I would look in the mirror and actually like what I see. Now? I usually tell myself one of two things: 1.) You’re looking a little dark around the eyes (from lack of sleep, no doubt), or 2.) Damn that hair/make-up smudge/rebel eyebrow hair.
Do you see a problem with this? I’m not looking in the mirror and saying how beautiful I think I am. Inside AND out. I’m not doing that. I’m not looking at myself and seeing something beautiful. I’m looking at myself and seeing a sad sack of lumpiness.
I’m not kidding. Does this make me sound terrible self-deprecating or what?
Don’t get me wrong. I have my good days where I look and say, “Hey. I’m looking pretty dang good right now, and that lip gloss is totally banging.” (Okay, maybe not that last part.) You get what I mean.
I’m also sitting here watching Glee (and the terrible drama that is Rachel Berry losing her virginity to Jesse James of vocal adrenaline), eating a cheese pizza along with sour cream and onion chips. I went shopping instead of going to the gym like I had originally planned.
Fat is what I’m feeling right now. I am so not getting my insurance money back from hitting my gym visitation quota this month. Not unless I kick myself in the butt. And, I mean kick my butt seriously. Yoga at 7 am is one thing. Going to the gym 8-12 times a month is a completely new beast.
I also meant to cook dinner tonight (Cue evil looks from my sister for not following through on that exclamation of the night. I’m sorry, but you were upstairs doing whatever with your fiance, and I had a headache and just didn’t feel like cooking tonight! I’ll do it tomorrow, damn it!)
For right now, I’m just going to settle down with my pizza and watch the rest of this virginity drama. Then, I need to hit my sheets (not for that reason!). I have to be up early to get my yoga on.
Yoga is the mind-settler of the Jedi. It lets you connect all that is around you, and all that is within you. It might sound like mumbo-jumbo, but it actually works.
If you don’t believe me? Try it yourself. If you let yourself go and lose yourself in the movement, you might feel the connectedness, too. But, seriously. Just try it.