Job for a Big Girl
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 mean, the work week is THISCLOSE to being over, I put extra effort into my overall look this morning when I crawled out of bed, I let myself splurge on lunch a little bit, I don’t have to work at my part-time “fun job” when I walk out of here in a few hours, and I have a few of my fave movie scores playing in the background all while i work the afternoon away. (Did I mention I spent about an hour on Pinterest, and it was all for work-related purposes?)
Yet, everything seems to point in the direction of “an awful day” when I shake the magical What-Will-My-Day-Be-Like 8-Ball.
“All of humanity is living in a dream world, but suffering real consequences.”
Lauren Hill, a lovely Grammy girl, has hit me on the nose. I’ll admit most days, I live in my own fantasy world. But when the real world hits…watch out.
First things first. I could barely open my eyes this morning. Maybe it was because I spent an hour at the gym waaaay beyond my normal work-out schedule. The gym closed 15 minutes after my departure. Yeah, I was there that late because my schedule ended up needing me to be more flexible than I was almost ready to give. Anyways…
I managed to throw a few pieces of bread into a container along with my jar of Nutella, so I wasn’t starving halfway through the morning. I’ve been experiencing small fits of nausea every morning for the past couple of weeks, and I honestly don’t know why. It’s actually very obnoxious.
Before trudging up the stairs, I decided to put a little more effort into my appearance. Not the usual Friday style of jeans and maroon/gold fitted T-shirt. I put on a polka-dotted, flirty dress and paired it with my fave black boots. You know, putting a little more rock n’ roll into the feminine side of things. It’s like me. I can be a sensitive case of tears one minute, and then totally all about kicking your ass the next,. In other words, don’t cross me. (An old friend of mine once told I’m crazy…he may be right. Or I’m a Cancer…I’ll let you decide.)
Where did things go wrong with my outfit? I noticed too late that if I stand in a well-lit area, you could clearly see right through the skirt of my dress and there was a small possibility the color of my underwear became noticeable to anyone who caught a glance. Throw in a large case of static cling with my skirt, and I’m suddenly wearing very flowy, polka-dotted shorts.
Yeah…wardrobe malfunction in the professional setting. I’m learning my Big Girl Lessons fast.
This is all before I even get to work. Once I’m at my office, I get my computer booted, check my personal and work email (as is my usual routine) and I immediately find three emails showing comments on a work new blog post made the day before. One of them was great feedback. The other two? Not so nice.
The rest of the morning was spent in crisis mode. How do we respond, do we even respond? If we do, what do we say? How do we say that?
Just a mess of stuff.
Chicken strips and onion rings suited me for lunch, and I let myself have an extra dipping cup of mayonnaise. Terrible, I know, but it’s so nummy and after the morning I had, it was deserved. Plus it’s Friday!
Rest of the afternoon went fine, and I actually was told to go home 15 minutes early. I was able to go to the grocery store! I haven’t actually shopped for food in a long, long time. I was able to take my time, go from one end of the store to the other, and back again.
It was halfway through shopping when my stomach suddenly took a lurch. It kept up until I got home, where it seemed to tighten and churn more. Probably against my better judgement, I head to the gym and did a ‘Walk for 5, Run for 10, Walk for 5, Run for 10’ type of routine. I actually felt really good running, but when the cramps set back in, I was toast. I couldn’t do it. I kept telling myself “Jedi Don’t Quit,” and they especially don’t quit because they feel sick. So…I kept pushing.
Bad idea. I got home, and just about died. Stomach cramps, womanly area cramps, showering didn’t make me feel better…nothing felt good. I ate some soup, but my stomach didn’t like it. Little did I know, , my sister ordered a ton of Chinese food and she told me to help myself. Another bad idea: I did. I ate cream cheese wontons, sweet and sour chicken, general tsao chicken, rice…all of it.
I’ll be spending a lot of time in the bathroom in the next 24 hours, that’s for sure.
After I ate, I passed out on the couch. Cold. The only time i do that is when I’m not feeling well. Off to bed I go.
But before I pass out entirely, here are the Fabulous things that made this Friday, and the prior work days, awesomely bearable.
Fabulous Fall Combination:
Fabulous Make-Up Moment:
Fabulous Disney Remix:
Fabulous Autumn Day:
Fabulous Fall Blazer:
Fabulous Fall Salad:
Fabulous Movie Theater:
A best friend is coming into town, and I better not be sick to see and hang out with her manana. I need a few beers, and gal pal time.
Basically, I packed up my entire apartment and found myself moving.It wasn’t an unexpected move by any means. No, not at all. I knew I was moving, and had been packing up all week. But the weekend came much sooner than anticipated, and now I can happily say I’m moved into my new bachelorette pad.
What else does a girl need? I have a bedroom, a living room/work space with a couch and (hopefully soon to be operating) TV with DVD player (my first Big Girl purchase!) I have a walk-in closet that I am almost embarrassed to say is already plump full with clothes, and this is after going through and donating a good chunk of things to Good Will. I need to do it about three more times, except I cannot be present to argue why I should keep that stretchy blue sweater in my wardrobe. I just can’t be, otherwise nothing will be taken away.
And being a woman, I only know more clothing items will call my closest home before I find the next place to move into presently.
I won’t be staying in this bachelorette pad long-term. Sadly. it’s really starting to become my space and I’ve only been there for 3 days! When you take away the fancy words of ‘Bachelorette Pad’ and ‘Walk-In Closest,’ you will discover I’m living in the basement level of my sister’s house which she bought with her fiance a few weeks ago. Since starting my new job, the wedding coming up in a few months, and the chaos of moving, I really didn’t have a ton of time to track down potential roommates or a place of my own to move into. For the time being, I’m living with them in their basement, which they have graciously allowed me to inhabit.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. Isn’t it going to be weird when you move back when they become newlyweds? Yeah, maybe a little bit, but guess what? I have a door that I can escape out if I start to hear awful noises above my head…and by that time, I’m hoping to have bought a new music sound system so I can blast Hans Zimmer whenever I feel like it and just get lost in my own little world.
It’s really fun having my own space to decorate and play around with. Sadly, I’m not being allowed to hang any of my Star Wars posters or inspirational quote boards on the walls. Nail holes would only wreck their new walls. Oh, and did I mention my level is the only one that has carpeting? It’ll be nice once winter hits. I’m thinking the hardwood floors are going to get awfully cold in the winter time, but I guess we’ll see. I’ve only been in the house for 3 days, and I already spilled a touch of Rockstar on the carpet. Shhhh, don’t tell anyone. All I can say is Thank God it wasn’t the red-colored one I usually tend to get.
Watch, I’ll go home tonight and there will be the ugliest stain I’ve ever seen i my entire life. Of course I spilled it while getting my shampoo out of its moving box in the wee hours of this morning, too. FML sometimes. (By the by, whatever happened to saying FML?)
“I suppose that if you want to be famous, and suddenly it happens and you don’t like it, it’s nobody’s fault but your own.”
How many present-day celebrities need to hear this? I wish they were as wise and clever as you Margot Kiddar, the film phemon back in the day.
At the same time, one could look at this and decide that it all comes down to attention given from actions taken. If you don’t want people talking about you three weeks later after that one amazing part that absolutely everyone was going to be at, then you probably shouldn’t make out with every other guy you run into while you’re there. Don’t want annoying people you half-remember calling you for booty meet-ups at midnight every other night? Don’t give you your phone number like a drunken idiot.
The opposite could also be said. Want people to notice you? Go out on a limb and try something new (without embarrassing yourself, of course. Keep your best interests at heart!) Sometimes, I just don’t know what I’m getting at. I haven’t done anything completely and ridiculously crazy as of late. Could be a good thing, could be a bad thing. I haven’t decided yet.
The most daring thing I’ve done in the past seven days? Jump into the lake when it felt like the Atlantic Ocean in the middle of December. Just because it’s 80 degrees on the sand doesn’t mean the lake is the same temperature, people. It’s the beauty and curse of the water.
A part of me is also yearning for that next relationship. It doesn’t help living with newlyweds, that’s for sure. Yes, I could have tried super hard to find my own place to live in the last month, but knowing myself, I would not have been satisfied with anything so quickly available in a month’s time, and I’m not daring enough to live in the ghetto part of town. Sorry, I’m just not. I probably could have done a lot of different things, but in the end, I moved with my sister to her new house. 1.) The house is really cute, and I wish I had a picture to show you to prove it, 2.) My sister is my best friend. It’s nice knowing my best friend is just a floor above my head instead of all the way across town (even though eventually, this will be the reality of things), and 3.) I already don’t deal well with change. When we started moving things on Saturday morning? Oh, it was bad. I was crabby, I didn’t want to lift anything more than I had to, and I wasn’t ready to say good-bye to Apartment #9.
I’m still not ready to say good-bye.
My mind kept jumping to the final episode of Friends, when each one of them gives up their key to that apartment with the purple walls and it sits empty of every piece of furniture we spent 10 years loving. Like Monica said, “This is harder than I thought it would be.”
A lot of great things happened in Apartment #9. Moments I’ll hold on to for time to come, I’m sure. But like everything else, it too shall pass. It’s time to move on.
A new residence means a new turn of events in my life, right? Fingers crossed. I mean, it’s still the year of the Dragon. It’s still my year to shine and have good fortune smile upon me. So far, I’ve got the job, the sweet home hook-up. Now, the romantic side of things can start to heat up. I miss being in a solid relationship. Sure, one-night trysts are all fun and good, but eventually they’re going to lose their excitement value, too.
I’m still holding out for engagement by the age of 30.
(Since I have missed two Fabulous Fridays in a row, expect a deluxe version of the two missed weeks tomorrow! My special treat. No ramblings or wonderings. Just a quote, and the amazing, Fabulous things I’ve come across in the last two weeks prior to the big Moving Day 🙂 )
I haven’t written in a few days, and I feel terrible.
And to make you feel even better, this post is going to be fairly short. In fact, I’m writing this today (Wednesday) and it might not be posted until tomorrow (Thursday). I’ve been a little busy and preoccupied. (And wouldn’t you know it? It’s actually Friday when I’m posting this. Woooow…this week has been Cray-zeeee!)
Like I said, I feel terrible.
A little recap of what’s been happening over the past couple of days (really, I’m recounting the few days that took up the previous weekend)….
Last weekend I headed down to the cities to see my best friend. See, the last time me and this friend talked, she was calling to inform me about how she and her boyfriend/fiance had broken up. Well, okay…I do what any best girlfriend would do. I had the weekend off, so I told her I was going to jump in my car and come see her, spend the weekend with her. To make sure she is okay and all that.
Little did I know, I’d get there only to find out they got back together the next day. Ummm what? How is that possible? “It’s too much time together to just throw it away.” While, yes, I agree, I honestly think she does need to spend some time on her own. She is a year younger than me, has been dating him for 5 years, and I think about myself and I know I would have said hasta la vista to him the moment we broke up. She needs to experience other guys in her life. A person changes quite a bit ion 5 years. Trust me, I am an expert at that.
Look at the type of girl I was 5 years ago, and look at me now. Leaps and Bounds of difference and change.
Anyways, so they got back together literally the day after she called me, breaking down in tears, telling me it’s over. Does she bother to tell me they got back together? Not at all. I found this out over turkey sandwiches and peaches with her parents that weekend. Wow…thank you for considering me a good enough friend to break the bad news, but when it comes to this? Not even a text message.
I worked my last day of work at the KGC, and it was utterly fabulous. I know to this very day they still haven’t hired anybody to replace me. Maybe by the time I post this tomorrow (really, on Friday), they may have someone. I sort of doubt it heavily.
But, as a token of farewell and good will, I was allowed to pick one thing off the entire menu to enjoy as my last meal with the club (my last supper, if you will.) I chose the château briand, and on top of getting to eat this delicious piece of steak with béarnaise sauce and the loveliest mashed potatoes you ever did eat, our club was graced with the presence of quite the celebrity on my last day.
Who, you’re probably asking yourself, who is this mystery person? None other than Laura Linney, whom I fell in love with when she was in Love Actually. I had since followed her into her days of playing John Adams wife in the TV series John Adams. So pretty and much taller than I suspected. I held a short conversation with her, and had the instinctual moment to grab a napkin and a marker, thrust them into her and politely demand an autograph, but I held back. I didn’t want to disturb her for an autograph when she was clearly there for a family event, or as some call it, a groom’s dinner.
“I have been treated as a freak, rather like the fat lady at the circus.”
I didn’t want to treat Ms. Linney like this on her visit to the KGC. I’m sorry for the way you felt, Margaret Patricia Hughes, an English sportswriter. But at least I hope you were treated differently because you stormed into the men’s locker rooms for the stories and quotes needed for the best of sports writing. And not just for the job, but also to catch a glimpse of those abs on them athletes which I know they were sporting.
Hey, once a single woman, always a single woman (in the mind, anyways.)
Along with the excitement I have detailed already, I also started my new job, and I’ll have to dish on that more later. I have already stayed 30 minutes past what I’m scheduled to work on a daily basis to get this done (since I am still without a laptop), so I shall leave you with my Midweek Smiles and get the heck away from this office. I mean, I’ll be here 40 hours a week. Why spend more time here than I need to!?!
– This day is filled with small joys just waiting to be noticed.
– You have the strength you need.
– Everything will be all right.
– See yourself as you truly are: amazing.
– Dream. Create. Achieve!
I’ll need these reminders as much as the next person in the upcoming weeks ahead. I fly solo in the office already on Monday. MONDAY! I will only have a week under my belt at that point. Start crossing your fingers now, folks. It could be a bumpy ride.
“You’ve got a friend in me.”
Name that song. If you don’t know it, you are almost pretty much dead to me.
Nah, I’m just kidding. It’s the theme song from none other but the orignal Toy Story, and the song was written by the wonderful Randy Newman. In case you don’t believe me when I say he’s wonderful, also check out “Strange Things (Are Happening to Me)”, also found in the first Toy Story movie. That is certainly one movie I will love with all my heart until the day I can no longer sit in one place for the duration for the entirely of a 1.5 hour movie (Let’s face it, the bladder is going to lose function at some point during my old age.)
Woody the Cowboy and Buzz Lightyear. Whoever thought they could become friends, let alone the best of friends? They come from two entirely different backgrounds, and they live in opposite settings of each other. A ranch versus a space ship. Moon boots versus cowboy boots. Yee-ha versus To Infinity and Beyond!
You get the picture. But when they got past that original sense of hesitancy about each other, they not only had amazing adventures with each other. (The scene I’m thinking of…”Buzz, you’re flying!”, “This isn’t flying. It’s falling with style.”, “To infinity and beyooooond! Hah hah hah!”)
As other holidays rolled around and Andy grew older and older until it was time for him to go to college, Woody and Buzz remained best of friends through all the changes taking place.
I can only hope I can say the same about some of the people I’ve befriended in the past year or so as new changes not only rock my world, but theirs as well.
For instance, I’ll be leaving the job I’ve worked for the past 1.5 years, and I’ve gotten to know pretty much everybody on the staff here. Some are friends, others mere acquaintances where we say ‘hello’ and ‘good-bye’ when appropriate while making other polite small talk. A handful of others I would say have become good friends of mine. Be it a good work friend or an actual We-Talk-About-The-Big-Stuff sort of friend, we’ve connected on a level that goes beyond work mates. We’ve hung out, we’ve called each other to vent, we’ve done lunch/drinks/dinner, we’ve started drinking in the middle of the afternoon and continued well into the night, we’ve seen movies together, and we text more often than we should.
How much do you want to bet most, if not all, of these things will change the day I start my Big Girl Job?
“Friends are just enemies who don’t have enough guts to kill you.”
You’re words ring too true in my current state of being, Judy Tenuta, a lethal lampooner.
One such friend, upon learning from me that I got the job I’ll be starting next week, she had very specific words for me: “I want to be happy for you.Really, I do. But I’m going to be mad at you and hate you instead.”
This is also the same friend who bailed on grabbing drinks on my the eve of my birthday because she needed to “go home and bake. Yes, I’m an old person. But I don’t want to be tired in the morning.” I’m sorry, but it was 9:00 pm and you could have had water with lemon, especially after promising me for the entire previous week you’d come out with me. Or, how one night we decided to go out for drinks after work because we wanted to catch up with each other, but then she decided a beer on her porch would taste better. Instead of even doing that, she then agreed to go out with other coworkers for beer instead of going for a drink with me (which could have been a beer. I didn’t care what we got, I was just excited to spend time with her. Guess I was wrong again.)
From that point on, all I’ve received is attitude from a handful of reasons. When I voice a concern or make a comment about how I can’t do something because I have a handful of tasks to do, the response I most often get is, “No one cares. You’re leaving, anyways.”
Again….thanks so much. Don’t complain about me then when I never make an effort to call or text to try to get together. If you didn’t care about me in my last days as a coworker, you’re sure as hell not going to care about my well-being if we’re actually friends outside of where we work.
I’m sorry I’m moving on and making changes to my life after complaining about my current situation. Get off your butt, and make things happen instead of waiting for them to happen because you “deserve it.”
I’ve deserved a lot of things in my life, but did I get them? Not every time. Did I take it out on my friends? Maybe at first with a few sarcastic remarks, but if what happened (or didn’t happen) wasn’t related to them in any way, shape, or form, I didn’t bother them by taking it out on them. I’m sorry life isn’t what you wanted it to be like at this point in your life, but I, nor my friends, had any part in that.
Don’t burn the bridges before they’re capably built.
It doesn’t help that about an hour ago I caught the ‘Friends’ ultimate finale on TV while eating dinner, and watching them all say good-bye to each other on the show (and in real life, as the show was ending its 10th and final season) made me tear up more than once in 10 minutes time. They were all moving on to new chapters in their lives, and now, so am I.
With that in mind, I want to spread a little Vogue-spiration that bears this thought in mind:
“Want to know a secret? Obsessing about your age, and your “flaws,” is never chic. Don’t-give-a-damn is the most fashionable quality ever known. A seventeen-year-old from East L.A. with a strict budget and a stellar sense of self can be just as fabulous as a 36-yeaer-old Parisian style-maker with a charge account at Colette. She knows how to fully embrace this self, this day. She knows what shade of turquoise or amber brings out her eyes.
In this Vogue-spiration, we give you: One thirteen-year-old wise to the ways of the Chanel atelier. One 96-year-old in a leather jacket. Four 20-something cousins with shoulder-high legs and a penchant for Mugler. Mega-sequins and shearling for the under-30s; mega-sequins and shearling with an over-30 spin. Two hundred and twenty-eight pages of inspirations that span the generations.
Age? Sure, it’s just a number. But that doesn’t mean you should pretend you’re a number you’re not. Dressing like a club-hopper when you’re a woman of substance undermines your own power. Being a conformist when you’re in your 20s would be a sin.
When we write about dressing through the decades, we’re advocating that you embrace the individual. Take possession of your unique personal style. Because how many women can be you?”
To sum it all up? Seize the day. I can’t help it if my friends don’t reciprocate when I reach out an invitation to get together. If they deny the chance, I can at least say I’m doing my part in this friendship. See, that’s the tricky thing. Friendships are two-way streets. Don’t complain to me about how I’m going to be the one “too busy” or “too whatever” to have time to hang out or see you.
The more you put the blame on me before it’s even happened, the less I want to put in the effort.
Seize the day. Pick up the phone, and stay in contact. On both ends. Be the woman (or man) you’re meant to be.
As Mufasa would say, “Remember who you are. You are my son, and the one true king. Remember who you are…”
Due to the hectic-ness of my past weekend, I once again neglected to share with you my Fabulous Friday’s.
Believe me when I say my Friday was quite wonderful, and they are only going to get better when I start getting into the swing of things with my new job. I can’t believe I am about to start the next big chapter in my life. A week from today I will leave the current job I’ve been working for a 1.5 years, and I will be starting an actual career job…at least a job that will give me an edge in the type of career path I imagine myself on. A week from today! Ahhh I can’t wait!
But the countdown has begun on when my last day at my current job will be. T-minus 4 days. I couldn’t be more excited. Every evening will not be dedicated to answering a phone or showing people where to go for dinner while they get to enjoy their evening out. I won’t have to worry about random people running in through our doors thinking we’re a church with handfuls of money to handout for their well-being and assistance. No more working parties where everyone is plastered within the first hour or so, and then the men continue to hit on me or try to catch a glimpse of something more down the front of my shirt.
No more, I say! Most of my evenings will be my own, as will be my weekends, and certain plans are already being set into motion for some Big Girl adventures now that I have available weekends. Let’s just say every adventure should be filled with passion of the heart, and let yourself experience it all for what it is and never, ever look back.
I’m growing into my adulthood, what can I say.
“I have often thought that I am the most clever woman that ever lived, and others cannot compare with me…Although I have heard much about Queen Vctoria…I don’t think her life was half so interesting and eventful as mine. I have 400,000,000 people dependent on my judgement.”
Those are the exciting words of Empress Dowager Cixi, a 19th century notable. Can you imagine ruling over that many people? Four hundred million! I can’t even grasp how large that number is in my head. If we’re talking dollar amounts, I know I’d be set for life with that large of a sum.
Come on, lucky lottery ticket!
The only royal I feel I can relate to (or at least pretend I know enough about in order to relate) is the Duchess of Cambridge herself. I know there’s more to being princess than always looking perfect, welcoming foreign visitors and political dignitaries with humility, gracious manners, and courteous smiles. It’s not about the clothes or appearing to be happy in the public eye. It’s volunteering, it’s putting a face to a much bigger cause.
It’s more than hospital visits, opening child care centers, or breaking dirt and being the center of a photo-op. Kate Middleton carries the burdens placed upon her well. I wouldn’t be complaining about a front row seat to every single Olympic event you wanted to attend. So what if she isn’t smiling in the photo plastered to her all-access pass? It’s protocol!
While i have no doubt Middleton leads a very exciting and eventful royal life (seriously, I’m super jealous of her Olympics access), but there are a few things she can’t do without it being labelled with a huge red stamp of SCANDAL. Me? Sure, it’ll be a scandal most likely, but I can get away with it and not have it splashed across the cover and Page 6 of every major publication in the world.
For now, at least.
Anyways, without much further ado, and it’s Monday so no one likes to read a novel length posting on a Monday, here are the reasons my latest edition of Friday was so freaking Fabulous:
Fabulous Office Space:
Fabulous Start to the Day:
Fabulous Summer Lunch:
Fabulous Starbucks Complex:
Fabulous Wedding Gift:
Happy Monday, boys and girls, and may you be treated like kings and queens of old in your relationships with those whom love you.
Challenge accepted? I sure hope so!
My new boss is having dinner at my current place of employment of which I will be leaving in 2 weeks’ time.
I find this incredibly hilarious, and at the same time, I may just faint. Anything I do here could make her change her mind, and we certainly do not want that. Anybody could let something slip about me, and we most certainly do not want that. Overall, I want to reflect a good working atmosphere to further encourage my new place of employment that I am indeed a great fit for their office.
I also don’t want my current boss to try to steal me away from my soon-to-be new boss. Wouldn’t that just be awful? Even if the old job could offer me the benefits, pay grade, daytime hours and loveliness of the new job, I still don’t want to stay. I’m ready to move on. It’s been kind to me when I needed a job, and I was able to develop and hone skills new and old. But now I’m ready to step foot into a bigger arena. It’s my time to move forward.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, better screw that up while I might still have some control over it.
I really don’t know what’s on my mind at this current moment in time. Of course, the Olympics on are on mind as they will be for the next 7-8 days until the closing ceremony.
OH! I’ve drafted my 1st letter of resignation ever in my lifetime, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. It’s bittersweet thinking about the personal and working relationships I have built here in this place for the past year and a half, and soon they will be done with. It’s also bittersweet to realize that once I leave this place where I have laughed, cried, sweated, yelled, bitched, encouraged, and dare I say embraced, a majority of the people here will cease to exist in my life. Friend I have made…we won’t speak to each other anymore unless we run into the other randomly at a bar, street dance, or merely happen to be in the same grocery store at the same time.
Come to think of it, this place has seen a lot of events in my life. Let me list a few which will stick out in my mind for days to come:
– My first real off-campus job
– A rather uncomfortable break-up
– A full-on work crush for a stretch of time
– Being hit on by men at least 30 years my senior (Absolute fave moment? New Year’s Eve when I wore a black and white shift dress that hugged my hips more than usual, and being pulled aside by a member to be told, “You are looking so good tonight. If I was 25 years younger, I’d pull you into a room upstairs and have my way with you.” Sure, I’m flattered, but when you start using phrases like “have my way with you,” I start to chuckle in a “Oh dear god, get me out of here” sort of way.)
– Ordering pizza or Chinese food along with a beverage or two of my own making while watching a Star Wars marathon on July 4 when the Club is closed for the week.
– Walking across the street to watch the fireworks with hordes of people on July 4.
– Getting a call to look in the dummy elevator from someone in the kitchen to find a bowl of French Onion soup waiting for me, along with a gigantic brownie.
– Discovering a perfect piece of filet mignon untouched on someone’s cleared plate from wedding reception.
– Snatching a cupcake off the wedding cake stand when no one is watching.
– Back in the early days, gathering in the bar after every member had left to do a round of shots in celebration of surviving another day.
– Designing my first poster for an event taking place, and being complimented by a handful of members (one of which even asked me to autograph it for him, and then informed me he would hang it on his wall and hold on to it until I was making big bucks in the design industry.)
– Watching our night-time manager lose his shit and run straight into a wall while tearing off his shirt when he thought Chef threw a spider on him.
– Sneaking into rooms after banquets had finished up to see what food they hadn’t completely finished off. I always went for the smoked gouda. (Please keep in mind, I was a poor college kid a majority of my time here with this place. If there was edible food, I was after it.)
Really, I could go on and on for a few hundred more words, but I’ll stop there.
“The subject of men and women is absolutely fraught with sex, which is as it should be.”
Trust me, there has been plenty of sexual tension in multiple ways between this moment as I type and since the day I first step foot into this establishment. So, thank you for summing up a part of my experience here, Peg Bracken, she who has found humor in homemaking.
As much as I have complained about this place, it served me well when I needed an income, a place to put myself to work, and a room full of familiar faces. Not going to lie, it also pushed me to strive for a Big Girl Job, to reach for something far more substantial to what I need to do in order to feel like a more fulfilled person.
To my coworkers whom I leave in less than 2 weeks, may you reach the endeavors you seek to gain and, even though it seems daunting at times, you too will get out of there. You, too, will one day have a life outside of those indestructible walls. So, I raise my glass to you…here’s to achieving your dreams…
…And hasta la vista suckers! (See? I’m so nice. They definitely going to miss me around here 🙂 )
Tie me up and make me sign a contract stating I will not waste time on the internet googling my newest obsession, thanks to the Olympics.
Two words: Ryan Lochte. Enough said.
I am officially obsessed with the man (in case you haven’t already figured that much out from my previous postings and my non-stop talk about him.) Another two words: Gorg-Eous! I could stare into those baby blues all day long.
Here’s another indication I’ve become a full-blown Olympics junkie. I was doing a bit of online shopping this morning (another terrible habit I need to sign a contract on. No more online shopping when I start the Big Girl Job unless I have rightfully earned it!), and I came across a Team USA warm-up jacket I instantly told myself I needed to own. Not only could I feel like I’m a part of the action, but maybe…JUST maybe, I’d feel like a part of the Olympic team, too. (Wow…I just reread that statement, and I realize how much of a dork I am. Trust me, it I’m fully aware of the fact I live in my own la-la land 90% of the waking hours.)
Trouble is, it only comes in youth sizes. I’ve worn young kids clothes before. My hockey jersey for my alma mater’s team is a youth size. For two reasons: 1.) It’s, like, $30 cheaper to buy the youth size, and 2.) The hockey jersey’s usually only come in men’s sizes and I still drown in a men’s size small.
Soooo…if I can get one cheaper and one which will fit me better, I’m going to go with the youth sized article of clothing. I’m hoping this holds true for the Team USA warm-up jackets, too, but I want to try one on. Sadly, I don’t think they’re going to have them in store. Before I rushing off to work, I’m going to stop by the store and see if by some miracle they have one in stock. Otherwise, hello on-line shopping cart. We meet again!
Now, if only I could find a shirt with Ryan Lochte’s face on it…
“When in doubt, do what someone successful does.”
An interesting piece of advice from Suze Orman, a finance fixer. I’m assuming she speaks in terms of the financial world when she uttered those words, but I think the lesson here can be applied to many areas of life.
Like Orman said, you can live the life of a successful individual when it comes to finances in a number of ways. You can live large on a small budget (if you need help or ideas, there are tons of books on Amazon.com to help you get started)…
…Or you can ignore the small budget entirely and spend, spend spend! Welcome to America where no one carries cash anymore. Just plastic. Cold, hard plastic in the form of a credit card. I’m as guilty as the next person. The only time I get cash is when I’m heading out with a friend and the bar we’re hitting up has a cover charge.
Fun little tidbit I learned about Ryan Lochte this morning…He is also guilty of never carrying cash. When interviewed by Swim Today magazine for a segment of their “25 Things You Didn’t Know About [insert celebrity swimmer’s name here]”, Ryan Lochte was asked the question of how much money would we find in your wallet right now. He generously guessed $1.00. When he actually opened his wallet to show the interviewer, there wasn’t a single bill of cash to be seen. “Nothing but credit cards,” said Lochte with a smile on that adorable face of his.
Okay, I’ll try to be done with my teenage crushing. For now, at least.
The important this with credit cards is to pay them off before you’re spending gets to be too outrageous, and you spend the rest of your life trying to reach the finish line of the debt-race game.
My advice? Make the purchase, and pay off that bill the instant it comes, especially if you can afford to pay it off right away. Otherwise, plan on making the monthly payments, and maybe a little more, if it’s a larger than usual purchase.
It seems simple, I know, but then why is America the winner when it comes to credit card debt?
I like to look at Orman’s words this way. What are key traits of successful people? They don’t ever allow themselves to stop. They are always working, always striving to reach that goal. They take chances. They may even take the road less traveled to reach their end goal. It might take a little longer, it might mean an extra project load to their already loaded table, but they do it.
It’s as if they look forward down the road, and don’t really “see” the obstacles because they know they’re going to blow past them in no time.
That’s something I need to incorporate more into my lifestyle…and when it comes time to purchase this Team USA jacket. Nothing is going to keep me from adding it to my wardrobe!
Just like I’m adding new clothes to my wardrobe, I’m trying new foods and trying out new ideas and products to expand my lifestyle and my overall world, even just a little bit. You know what it’s all about. It’s my New Day Sundays (and yes, I do know it’s Monday, but I was in recovery mode all of yesterday. I plopped on my couch and watched the Olympics, and that was it!). Here are the new things I tried in the month of July:
Produce: Alfalfa Sprouts
Bakery: Strawberry Cream Cheese Muffins
Canned Goods: Pear Halves
Breakfast/Cereal: Special K Breakfast Bars
Meats: Lobster Ravioli
Dairy: Heluva Good! French Onion Dip
Frozen Foods: Tyson Mini Chicken Sandwiches
Beverages: Strawberry Crush
Toiletries: Earth Therapeutics Heel Intensive Care
Baby: John Deere Bunkbeds
Household: Solar Powered Bricks
Pets: Hummingbird Feeder
Snacks: Mystery Flavored Fruit by the Foot
Misc: OPI Crackle Nail Polish in Gold
What new things have you tried lately in the past month or so? What I have found the most exciting is when I’m in the beauty department or roaming around ULTA to see what new and fun products. There is so much to take in, and I’ve decided it would be fun to work as the beauty editor for a major fashion magazine. Constantly trying new products and letting others know how good they work? Sign me up.
It’s only Monday, meaning the week is only just starting. I hope it’s off to good start for you.
On my end? It’s not bad, especially when you come to another realization why adulthood is so much better than being a kid or a teenager.
Reason # 47 why its better to be an adult: Not having to argue with mom about whether you can buy the Snack Pack Pudding Cups, and then deciding, yes you will have one for breakfast.
See? Life rocks sometimes. Happy Monday!
My Olympic antics are catching up with me.
All day long I’ve been stopping midstep due to these unexpected sharp pains in my lower back. It’s always on the left side, and sometimes it’s just a small discomfort. Others? They make me stop and gasp for a breath. They are just sharp and painful. Is this the start of appendicitis? Am I coming down with liver cancer?
Can you tell I’m a bit melodramatic at times?
But, seriously. Whatever is going on in that region of my body, it needs to stop. Today marks the first of three doubles coming up back to back to back. I literally will not have a day off until….my God, I don’t even know when. Sunday? Monday? Two weeks from now when I start my Big Girl Job and have weekends to myself? I may not sleep for weeks.
This is not good.
“From then on, when anything went wrong with the computer, we said it had bugs in it.”
I’ve always wondered where that phrase came from, and now I know, thanks to Grace Hopper. She’s the pioneering programmer who was working on a malfunctioning computer in 1945, and further, removed a moth from it. Interesting how our language develops, isn’t it? ‘It’s got a bug,’ is a pretty common phrase of the American English language. I know I use that phrase quite a bit!
I wonder if Ryan Lochte uses that phrase. Like, when he has a bad swimming day or just a rough day in the pool in general, does he go to his coach and say,” I’m sorry, man, but I just have a few bugs in me today.”
In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m sort of obsessed with Ryan Lochte. It’s never Ryan or simply Lochte. It’s always a two name drop. It’s always Ryan Lochte. Just so you know. I’m a swooning more and more with every article I read about him on Google. See, this si what I do. I discover somebody as cute and giggle-worthy as Ryan Lochte, and I go bananas. It’s pretty equal to that of a school girl crush. I hear his name or I catch a glimpse of his face on my television screen, and my heart does a dozen flippity-flops and my heart rate increases by 13 points. It’s ridiculous, I know.
Maybe my new junkie addiction is merely to Ryan Lochte….Eh, no. I also am in love with the US women’s beach volleyball team. I really hope they get the gold for the third time in a row. How incredibly awesome is it, on top of pursuing the achievement of their third straight gold medal, but they are also two women who are well into their 30s. For those people who are struggling with the “OMG I’m turning 30, the world is over” dilemma, take a look at these two women, and get over it.
Have you tried running in sand for 3 hours straight? Oh, and it’s not just running. It’s also jumping, hitting, falling, getting right back up, and jumping some more. Ever eat a mouthful of sand? I’m sure they have countless times. Do you hear them complaining? Nope. You find them looking pretty great in their swimsuits as they dive, swing and spike that ball into their opponents.
Each game of theirs I’ve seen so far, it ends up being tied at 18-18 or 19-19, and then they pull out all the stops. Did I forget to mention that along with going for their third straight gold medal (which means they already have two in their possession), but they’ve also never lost a set while pursuing any of their medals? In case you didn’t hear me the first time…they’ve never lost a game in the Olympics. Not even a preliminary round. These women are freaking insane, and i love everything about it. It just shows they are not letting anything stop them, and that’s the way women should be. Constantly fighting for something no one thinks they are capable of.
It’s what I take pride in most from my standpoint as a woman. You give me a bar and tell me can’t reach beyond it, I’m going to tell you I’m going not only reach it, but I’m going to fly so far past it, we’ll both forget a bar even existed. My favorite part about impressing or surprising someone? The look on their faces. For an acting exercise in class once, I was asked to stand in for someone else’s personal exercise. I represented the other actor’s wife to whom he is talking to throughout his monologue. To physicalize the text, he had to speak his monologue while trying to keep me pinned to the ground. Keep in mind that this wasn’t a small guy who was meant to keep me on the ground.
He made it through maybe 3 lines of his monologue before he had to stop talking because I was struggling so much, and was nearly on my feet before he could say another word.
I may look small, but I’m feisty. All those years of living it up on the farm had its pay-off. I know how to work for myself, and sometimes when you’re in the midst of chores, there isn’t someone around to help you when you get into a bind. You have to take care of it yourself, and sometimes that required a bit of elbow grease. I learned to be tough when I needed to be. If you didn’t grow up on a farm, you’ll have no clue what I’m talking about unless you’ve been chasing cows home to discover a large hole in the fence and you need to not only chase the cows back into the fenced in area, but also fix the fence with your bare hands. Oh, and I forgot to mention you’re standing in the middle of a swamp and one of the cows is stuck in the marshiness of the swamp. Not only do you need to run home and get a rope halter to put around her, you need to pull her out. Alone. Think you could handle it?
Probably not, but feel free to try to change my mind on that one. Guess I also have a few bugs to work out 😉
In true fashion of thinking on your feet and getting creative, I’m always looking for the next best thing along with the rest of the world. Since I’m heading into the realm of Big Girl World, I’m always looking for new ideas to try out. You know, in the attempt to save me some money since I really will need to budget myself now. I already have these huge thoughts about how to decorate my own place, or the vacations I’m going to take, or the things I’m going to see. But, until I really have tons of cash to throw around, I have a few nifty tricks using a product we all look and use every day, or very close to every day.
Here are some brilliant ideas for using Club Soda:
1.) Perk up fading plants
2.) Get a rusty screw to turn
3.) Avoid a stuck-on food nightmare
4.) Whip of fluffier flapjacks
5.) Polish chrome sans streaks or spots
6.) Erase stubborn mug stains
7.) Turn gelatin into a dazzling dessert
8.) Make old jewelry sparkle like new
9.) Effortlessly remove bird droppings
10.) Break a pet accident cycle
Who knew club soda was for more than alcoholic beverages?
Enough of this blabbering. I need to get back to my Olympics and catch up on things I’ve missed since I’ve been at work all day long. If my US women beach volleyball team lost today, I’m going to cry myself to sleep. They are my role models for how to turn 30 with grace. Seriously, check them out. Amazon women is what they are, and we all know Amazonian women ruled the roost and kicked major arse!
May the odds continue to be ever in your favor!
(How I would LOVE to hear the Queen of England say this before a medal round of some Olympian event, and I know I’m not the only one dying to hear her say these exact words.)
Raise your hand if you’ve turned into a snarling, drooling, foaming at the mouth addict to the Summer 2012 Olympics taking place in London at this exact moment in time?
No one? Anyone? Are you sure?
No, my hand isn’t in the air, either.
BUT…I have become a total Olympics Junkie since the opening ceremony took place last Friday evening. And, yes, I didn’t capitalize the word ‘junkie.’ It’s only fair I pay my dues to what I have become and wear it like a patch on my sleeve with pride.
One of my friends commented the other day about how watching the Olympics makes them feel more patriotic than any other time of their lives. Watching members of our country compete against our rival countries (like those dang French in the swimming competitions who knocked my beloved Ryan Lochte out of medaling yesterday and pushing him into 4th place…just shy of a medal. Dang you, Frenchies!!), it really does lift something in the spirit.
As I watched the women’s gymnastics team achieve gold for the first time since the Magnificent Seven, I felt a different sort of pang resonate through my chest. It was a pang of longing.
I miss competing. Plain and simple. I miss the rush of adrenaline that let me know something exciting was about to happen, and the result totally rested on my shoulders.
At that point, I could only hope I’d trained long enough and hard enough to face my opponent. Tennis, once again, pops into my mind. That sport, for me, will always hold a special place in my heart. My high school was small, and barely had a sports team of any kind. Somehow, we managed to amass enough students every year. Well, upon my entering high school, I knew I wanted to play basketball. Tennis, on the other hand, was something my cousin convinced me to try out the summer before I entered official high school status. It didn’t hurt that my sister also played on the team for a few years prior to my entry into high school, so naturally, I wanted to follow in her footsteps (but discreetly. No one likes to admit they did something because their sister made it look cool!)
A long story short, I was hooked after my first summer lesson. So when “try-outs” for the team came up later in the summer, I got a call from the coach asking if I wanted to see what a couple of practices would be like, and make my decision to be on the team from there.
You should know up front that there as no C-Team or JV squad for this tennis team. When you joined the team, you were playing at the varsity level immediately, and for someone who had never touched a racquet prior to that summer lesson, it was slightly terrifying.
Even more terrifying? Being placed at 3rd singles for my first match ever. I was playing opponents who had been playing for 5+ years, and literally would kill me if I got in the way of the ball without my racquet to deflect its speeding orb-like self.
I won’t lie. It sucked at the time. I knew I wasn’t the best of players, but I also knew I was better than what my scores reflected. I considered it a victory when my side of the score cards shined with a game or two in my favor, and not big fat zeros. 6-0, 6-0. I never hated a score total so much in my life.
Like I said, it sucked at the time. But I was too young and dumb to acknowledge the training and skill sets I was picking up right away from playing opponents way beyond my skill set. As I grew older with the sport and my own personal skills began to expand, the tides were turning. I was suddenly that player other teams hated to play. My years of being pounded into the tennis pavement paid off. I became one of the best players in the conference. It took a lot of patience, a lot of practice, and a lot of beatings to reach the skill set I eventually entered the season with my senior and final year of high school. Now, to say I was undefeated that season would be a total lie. I was beaten a handful of times, but the beautiful part is that it wasn’t by complete shut-out.
I made myself a promise when I advanced to the 2nd singles position: If I was bound to lose, I would win at least 2 games every set and not go down with a shut-out. It kept me swinging, that’s for sure. When I assumed the 1st singles position, it became my goal to shut out players the way I had been shut-out all those years ago.
You know what? I achieved that goal a number of times. My time had come, and I wasn’t about to forget it.
“It’s straight from the horse’s mouth.Not that I’m saying I’m a horse.”
We only like to tell it how it is, don’t we, Victoria Beckham, the erstwhile “Posh Spice”. She may have been talking about her autobiography with those words, and I guess in a way, so am I. Tennis is a part of my life, so consider this a fleeting story in a long, long, not-even-close-to-being-completed autobiography about, well…me!
So, how does this tie in with the Olympics?
Like previously stated, I miss the competition. I miss the mental preparation needed prior to the event. Seeing the athletes sitting and watching/cheering on their teammates with their ear buds tucked safely in their ears…I used to do that. I needed ten minutes of “me” time before stepping out on the court. I miss the routine. I miss the physical and mental discipline.
I need to find myself an adult sports team. Now that I have a Big Girl Job and everything, I have my evenings to train, and a fighting spirit that just don’t quit. I’m always looking to prove myself. Maybe I could be on the national tennis circuit yet.
I think it’s okay for me to hold on to that longing, the want to be a part of a team again, the want to be disciplined enough to take the reins on my own but also have a bigger picture in mind. SO…with that in mind, I realize it’s been awhile, but here’s my latest installment of ‘Hey, It’s Okay’s”
Hey, It’s Okay…
… If all your future baby names come from celebs. Cate? Shia? Adorable, right?
… To know what only four out of the 12 keys on your key chain actually go to.
… To still be forwarding people that ridiculous “Talking Twin Babies” YouTube video. Funny on the first or the dozenth viewing.
… To pretend you’re getting in shape for your wedding even when there’s no ring on your finger. Really, whatever motivates you.
… To make everyone else turn around, walk 10 paces and sing cheesy Bon Jovi songs while you attempt to pee in the woods.
… If one hot dog is pretty much never enough.
… To ask him to kick in for your birth control pills. More than OK!
… To look up, realize you and your significant other are both on your phones and totally feel like those people.
… Not to have the foggiest idea how to talk to a three-year-old.
We still have a lot of summer left ahead of us, and I intend to fully grasp each day with a new fervor. It’s amazing how knowing I have a new job starting in a few weeks has totally changed my perspective on things. I go to and leave work totally smiling, and it’s incredible.
One nice thing? Soon, I’ll be buying myself a new laptop, so when I get home from work, pop a beer and snack a little bit, I can sit down on my porch, open my computer, and blog away, be done in like 1.5 hours, and still have time left in the evening to go out and do a few things yet.
How nice will that be?
Until then, I’m glued to this schedule and to my TV. Every glimpse I can have of Ryan Lochte these days, I’m taking it. Damn, how someone can look so good in a swim cap and swimming trunks is beyond me.
Mr. Lochte, you keep doing what you’re doing, and I’ll keep watching and cheering from my living room. You’ve got a fan in me, sir. (And half the country’s female population, I’m sure.)
But they don’t really count 😉