Star Wars
Happy as a Clam
What makes a night perfect? Let me indulge you for just a minute or two…
Spending as much time as I want roaming the aisles of Barnes and Noble (and getting an approving nod from several guys as I checked out the Star Wars and Lord of the Rings book sections), splitting a burger and fries with my sister, and enjoying a cold pale ale.
I’m a happy clam right now. Plus I have a new Hunger Games calendar to peek at while watching Love Actually for the first time this holiday season. Throw in an iced tea and a bowl of ice cream, and I’m crawling into bed with a wide smile on this face.
Why was tonight so great? I really don’t know. It was leisurely. There was good food. I was surrounded by shelf after shelf of new books just waiting to be cracked open. Every once in a while I’d catch a whiff of coffee from the Starbucks shop off over my shoulder. There were several good-looking men who apparently never realized a girl could be into really geeky things (Hello? I’m the Modern Jedi 😉 )
Now I’m watching The Office (I still can’t believe its the final season!), and I’m giggling my butt off. I may or may not still have some of that beer left in my system.
It was simply nice to sit down with my sister and talk about things, like the wedding of the year, the groomsmen of the wedding, the jerks I’ve dated in the past couple of months (okay, not all of them were jerks, but a majority), places we want to travel in the next year, how I’m doing in the professional world, how if I’m not married by the age of 32 how I’m heading down to the sperm bank and choosing the future father of my child, and things my sister wants to improve upon in her new house.
“Maybe it will take a woman to clean up the House.”
Nancy Pelosi, a Congressional leader, has always been at the top of my Awesome Ladies List, even though not too many people can be counted among the ranks of her fans. She’s a ballsy lady. She took the lead of Congress, and quite frankly, made men step back and listen to a new perspective.
Trust me. My vision of being the Press Secretary to POTUS? Still very much alive. They need more of a female touch throughout the government. I’m talking the entire federal system, and they need women who haven’t shut down their emotional sides. Women who feel, hear the words being spoken to them, but those also not afraid to swing a heeled foot at a man’s crotch seam when he over steps his boundaries using the reason “he’s a man using his God-given right.”
Men and women were created equal. Oh, wait. No we weren’t. We have the capability of carrying a child inside us for 9 months and then pushing anywhere from 7-13 lbs of a screaming, crying baby out of ourselves. Men and women were not created equally. If men could give birth, I don’t think they’d be quite as obnoxious when it came to PMS.
I really shouldn’t be so mean towards men. But, given past experience near and far, it’s hard to have a different view of them. The same could be said for the other side. Ugh, why do I always get caught up on this topic?
Old habits are incredibly hard to break. I’m working on it.
My Taste, My Rules
There’s something about fall that gets me going.
The changing leaves, the cooler air, the fact that I feel like I’m a part of the Fellowship of the Ring whenever I slip on a particular pair of boots, the idea that Halloween is just around the corner which further feeds my theatrical spirit (who wouldn’t want to wear an exorbitant costume for one full day out of the entire year?). There is so much I love about this season.
I know a lot of people claim to think that spring is the time for rebirth and change, but I think the same is true for fall. Seeing the leaves change color makes me ask why I can’t change a little something about myself? Which gives full reason as to why I’m looking at images for my tattoo and in November, once the upcoming wedding nuptials are said and done with, I will be heading to my stylist and saying, “Make me a redhead.” I need to keep a spark alive in me once winter hits, or I die inside. Little by little, I die inside.
Plus, everyone feels a little randier when winter hits. You’re stuck indoors, and needing to stay warm. Taking the flirtatious nature of men and women up a notch isn’t always a bad thing. Just know what you’re getting into before you’re knee-deep and questioning your morals.
“Good taste is the worst vise ever invented.”
The wise words of Edith Sitwell, a perverse poet. Let me sum it up for you: Whatever you like, like it. Don’t give a second thought to those who think they are better dressed, prettier, or overall more stylish. If it works for them, great! They could never pull off the looks I do, and vice versa. We’re all meant to be different, and like different things.
It’s another reason why I hate winter. Everything starts to blend together, and I get mentally bored. Which is why you will often find me having a tropical day in my bathroom on a random weekend in my apartment. Dressed in bright colors, bikini top on, coconut oil stinking up the place, fruity candle burning, and a margarita mix in the blender. You have to liven up the soul somehow, or we all die.
I am not a winter girl, but I am in love with every other season that exists. With that in mind, here is what I personally found to be in good taste the past week to make my Fabulous Friday:
Fabulous Manicure:
Fabulous Fall Beauty Look:
Fabulous Idea:
Fabulous Album:
Fabulous Fall Beverage:
Fabulous Wedding Must:
Fabulous Event:
Fabulous Honeymoon Suite:
Fabulous Fall Accessory:
Fabulous Smile:
Fabulous Laugh:
Fabulous Kids Costume:
Fabulous Life Goal:
Fabulous Bouquet:
Fabulous Bed:
Our forecast said snow sometime this afternoon, and I am already cringing inside. Are you kidding me? It’s the beginning of October! It’s not supposed to snow until mid-November in these parts. Even sadder…I still need to find and buy a pair of winter boots before I have to shovel my car out every morning before heading to work. BLAH!
In the meantime, it’s a perfect fall day (at least last time I checked about an hour ago), and there is a restaurant serving sushi calling my name for lunch. Never disobey a hungry stomach…especially when you’re taking Vitamin B tablets to boost your metabolism. Yikes. It’s not pretty sometimes, the noises my stomach makes when its hungry. Basically: Feed Me Now.
I shall obey. Happy Saturday!
If Only Tatooine Had a Lake…
Anakin had it wrong.
The feeling of sand is wonderful. There is nothing better than pulling out a book or magazine in the dead of the heartless winter season and having a small pile of sand fall into my lap. It’s not too convenient when you’re laying comfortable in your nice, warm bed with the blankets wrapped perfectly around yourself and suddenly there’s a mess of grainy particles now mixed among your small piece of heaven.
But I still love finding it. I love finding those small reminders of summer every now and then.
Especially when its sand.
There is nothing I love more than a beach day. Sometimes its only for a few hours. Heck, sometimes it’s only for a few minutes because not every beach day is a day is paradise. The flies decide to bite. It’s hot on top of the hill, but once by the water, the wind chills you to the bone. There’s not a level piece of land without a crap ton of debris laying everywhere. Too many people screaming along with their children under the age of 6. The sand is so scorching hot on your feet that it literally hurts to walk so you have to run in the hopes of saving your feet (at least until you reach the water’s edge and can walk on the already wet sand.)
Anakin Skywalker had it wrong. Sand is not rough and coarse. While it does get everywhere, I tend to like it that way. Because if you leave the beach covered in sand for one reason or another, that only means one thing when you finally reach home. It means you can take a cold shower.
Hearing the words cold shower gives me all sorts of crazy ideas. I’ll keep most of them to myself.
This is the first weekend where I haven’t had a full day off, and on top of not having a full day off to collect my thoughts from the craziness of working the evening hours and trying to live like a normal individual, I have to return to work for a mandatory work meeting. From what I gathered from other individuals at this place of establishment, it’s basically going to consist of us being fed snacks while watching a series of training videos.
It’s seriously the weirdest weekend of my life, and if I could fast forward through this meeting.
Basically, summer makes me feel a lot of things, and according to an article I read in an old issue of Glamour magazine, summer makes us feel 10x better about ourselves in a variety of ways. We feel healthier, we feel happier, we actually look better (from all the sunshine and extra water we’re drinking because of the soaring hot temperatures.)
We’re also feeling sexier in every aspect of the word.
What can I say? Nothing looks better than a white bikini and a nice bronze tan. (I know a few guys who would agree with me on this one.)
“Old people do have sex and they have it a lot. They’re just doing it a little more slowly, which, come to think of it, is not a bad thing.”
Those are the revealing words from Estelle Getty, one of our beloved Golden Girls. They do say it gets better as we age. I wouldn’t know. I’m not yet beyond the age of 50. I’ll let you know when it happens, and weigh in on the subject at hand.
But, in all seriousness. It’s kind of funny how this season instills both a fear of one’s body and emboldens the need to show it off. As I was walking around the beach this afternoon, not only did I know I looked good (I know a thing or two about picking out the right swimsuit for your body type), but I was also berating myself for not working harder on slimming my thighs down, or mentally tallying how many more reps I’d need to add to my arm workout in order to start seeing muscle definition results.
My favorite part of the article I read from Glamour? We attract more men without even realizing we’re doing it. It’s easier for a man to find you attractive in the summer months. Why? We’re practically running around half-naked by choice.
Disagree with me? I’m sorry, but I’m most likely to be found wearing a skirt or sundress of some sort in these hot temps instead of a full-on pantsuit. More skin = more double takes = more ooh la-la for all involved.
I thought it was interesting logic.
Women aren’t alone in this. We all tend to feel a touch more adventurous in the summer months. There’s just something very invigorating in the air, pushing us to take that extra step, to try something entirely new.
Which brings me to my New Day Sunday. I discovered these things back in the month of June (yeah, I’m a touch behind), but trying something new is not something you set on deadline.
Produce:Corn on the Cob
Bakery:Coffee Cupcakes with Glitter Frosting
Canned Goods:Pork n’ Beans
Breakfast/Cereal:French Vanilla Flavored Coffee Grounds
Meats: Steak on the Hibachi Grill
Dairy:Potato Topper Sour Cream
Frozen Foods: Karmel Sutra Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream
Beverages:Woodchuck Hard Cider
Toiletries:Got 2 B Power-derful Hair Gel
Baby:Hammock
Household:Marker Menu Board
Pet:Dog Bed made out of an End Table
Snacks: Dutch Crunch Steak-Flavored Chips
Misc: Heating/Cooling Eye Mask
Maybe something on here sparked your interest to start your week. It’s hard to believe the weekend is just about to see itself close. I do enjoy my weekends, even when I work more than half the time. What can I say…A woman has to do what a woman has to do.
And that, these days, is to earn a living.
Well…enough of a living to get by with the essentials and a few nights out with beer and friends thrown into the mix.
It’s Summer Nights!
Surprise, surprise. I haven’t written for a few days.
Tis the summer spirit. You know why I say that? On a whim, I was looking at my schedule and realized I had nothing planned for a span of three days. No projects, no work, no nothing. What else would I do on these unscheduled days, other than maybe go to the beach and get my tan on harder than before.
It would have been an acceptable use of my time. I even could have caught up on that stack of books on my night table or that stack of magazines lining my bedroom floor….
OR I could swing myself down to a town and see a handful of friends I haven’t seen in (after a small time of thinking and calculating) two years! These friends were my sanity chamber when I was in my second year at the Academy. It was a no-brainer decision.
GO SEE YOUR FRIENDS!
And wouldn’t you know it…Fate decided to lay a lucky hand in my favor, and they also had time off in conjunction with my time. So, behold! The Journalism Gals were back together again. We had dinner, drinks, lots of laughter, and even more catching up on each other’s lives. It was utterly delightful! Who am I kidding….I was freaking psyched to see these girls. All of us are so different, and yet, so very alike.
Isn’t that normally how you find friends?
So, that’s where I’ve been. Now, I’m writing to you about it. Not going to lie…I’m not too motivated to do this. But, just like working out, you have to force yourself to do it, otherwise you’re never going to see results. When I started this blog, I told myself I would do it for at least a year…if I hated it a year later, then I would quit.
Thing is, I don’t hate doing it. I just hate starting and forcing myself to do it.
“On a good day I think I’m a relatively sane person with a few frayed wires. On a bad day I think, ‘Just lock me up.'”
Oh, how truthfully you speak interview icon, Rosie O’Donnell. I’ve been called a fair amount of names in my life. Insane has been among them.
However, purely sane people never truly see what is it they’re after or how to get there. It takes an ‘outside the box’ thinker to really strive and reach for something in a new way. I guess you could say the Jedi are insane. As Han Solo would say, it just some “hokey religion.”
But, you were proven wrong, weren’t you, Han?
I’ve gotten myself in my fair share of crazy, insane situations as well. How else do you explain getting a text at 11:30 pm at night from New Guy (remember him?!), whom I haven’t seen since his lame attempt to “get back together with me” at the bar a week after he broke it off with me, all because I was talking to his best friend while waiting for the bartender to ring up my tab? Yeah, that was a ways back…and we’ve rarely spoken since then. His best friend and I have since had our encounters as well, but New Guys’ friend also never tried to keep me to himself.
It’s the dating game, boys. Once you say you’re out, I’m not waiting around. I have bigger fish to fry.
Anyways, I’m knocking back a well-deserved and specially appreciated celebratory beer with my best friend (I’ve been having a small personal crisis for a few weeks, and it was resolved yesterday, so we were celebrating the lifting of this hellish time from my shoulders), and my phone buzzes. I’m thinking its our mutual friend wanting to come join us. Lo and behold, its New Guy. He’d seen somewhere (or I had mentioned it to him, I don’t quite remember) that I was in town, and if I wanted to come hang-out and crash in his bed after my drinking was said and over with, I was to let him know.
So, here’s me, celebrating the fact a small major crisis in my life had been averted, and I’ve had little to eat and plenty of beer in my tummy. Let’s just say, the alcohol was already going to my head.
There’s a reason I don’t drink a lot of dark beer!
Anyways, I fill in my friend of what’s going on, and she starts making up conversations we’d have if I went over to “hang out.” It didn’t take a brain scientist to know he wanted me over there for one reason and one reason only: to get down and dirty.
I wasn’t having it.
So, I asked him if my friend could come with me. This sparked New Guy’s interest. Two girls + him +his apartment + his bed = a very good night for him.
Or so he thought.
A small white life, perhaps, but when he responded with such liveliness and excitement, I told him, sure, we could do that. I’ve had enough to drink…if he didn’t mind my friend being a guy (in case you didn’t follow that, the white lie was my friend being a dude.)
This small (false) fact had the desired effect. His excitement instantly dropped, and he instantly seemed less interested…unless I came over by myself. Then, “we could still have a good time.”
There was no way I was going over there in the state of my condition. Who knows what he may have tried?
Needless to say, I had a small bit of fun at his expense, but after the way he ended things with me, I’m okay with it. He deserved a small smack to his ego, anyways.
That is just one of the mere adventures I had over the past three days, and I’m sure the rest will come out in the upcoming week. But here is one thing I’m long overdue on, and it’s why my Friday was so Fabulous. I really want to share them with you, so here we go. My Fabulous Friday (even if it is majorly overdue!):
Fabulous Feeling:
Fabulous Smile:
Fabulous Decor Idea:
Fabulous Find:
Fabulous Boots:
Fabulous Look:
Fabulous Headshot:
Fabulous Mean Girls:
Fabulous Arrangement:
Fabulous Laugh:
Fabulous Perspective:
Fabulous Treat: Find the reciple here!
Fabulous Reading:
Fabulous Bit of Advice:
And now, it’s time for me to wrap things up. I shall share more with you tomorrow. Right now, a sandwich, a Vitamin Water, and a cozy chair with a magazine are calling my name.
I’m a sucker for staying cozy at home.
I’m Pretty Sure My Mom was Taught by Master Yoda
Two days after the festivities have ended, I am still exhausted with my body still trying to recover. Probably doesn’t help that my eating habits have been incredible erratic all weekend long, and in the hopes of recovering from said weekend, I ate too few of meals with too much time in between OR I snacked way too much on chocolate gold coins, Texas caviar, blanco cheese dip and leftover Subway sandwiches to make much of a difference.
That’s the way of life after a wild weekend like I’ve just had, right?
In case you were wondering, the Bridal Shower and Bachelorette Party rocked out the weekend hours without a hitch. My stomach hurt so much the next morning from laughing. Just…so much fun. My sisters, our cousins and the friends along for the ride sure know how to have a good night. It wasn’t a wild night where things happening in Vegas stay in Vegas, but it was a blast nonetheless. If I could relive the weekend in its entirety, I so totally would. To say I like being in charge of events like this is an understatement.
I adore it.
Seeing as how my brain is a bit fuzzy from everything still, I’m not going to give too many details on the happenings of the weekend just yet. I will later on…hopefully after a full night’s rest here. What am I saying…I’m too wicked to rest.
I was able to schedule an extra day off where I could stay home with my folks on the farm and just relax for a solid 24 hours. It wasn’t easy telling myself to chill out, especially when my other siblings are in the midst of packing up their bags and gear to start their treks home, back to their own separate lives. It may not have shown on the outside, but every time a backpack or a duffel bag was thrown into the trunk of a vehicle, my stomach lurched. My brain would scream, “Get going! You’re burning daylight! You should be working on SOMETHING!”
I may have a few screws loose.
Not as soon as I would like, but my nerves and anxiety eventually drifted away and I was able to grab a book from my overnight bag, sit on our back porch with a cup of coffee, and read to my heart’s content. I forgot how nice it is to lose yourself completely in a fictional story.
My latest read of choice? Songs of the Humpback Whales by Jodi Picoult. I absolutely love everything about her writing and her stories. I own half of her entire collection already, and will soon be owning the rest. An entire section of my Books Only bookshelf will be dedicated to her (when I have the space to have a Books Only bookshelf anyways.) I highly recommend her novels. Pure wonderfulness, and her most known novel My Sister’s Keeper is the only book to date that made my shed actual tears while I was reading.
I don’t cry when I read. I just don’t, but that book opened wells of tears for an entire night to the point where I had to put the book down to gather myself before moving on.
Not only did I finish this book of Picoult’s, but I read two other Star Wars books in their entirety as well. I suppose after a chaotic weekend like that, one can easily lose themselves in the worlds and problems of another person or in another Universe before focusing on the post-party organizing and cleaning.
But that extra day not only allowed me time get myself put back together along with a congratulatory pat on the back for throwing not one, but two, great parties in 36 hours, it also gave me time to catch up with my bestest of best friends: my mom.
I don’t understand it when people say they dislike their parents. Sure, when I was 13 years old and coming into my own (with thousands of swirling hormones screwing up everything), I disliked my parents. We argued and fought because I couldn’t wear the things I wanted or go out past 10:00 pm on a school night. They wouldn’t let me date nor could I be on the computer for more than 2 hours at a time (even for school work). I had chores to do and it didn’t matter if I didn’t get home until 10:30 pm due to a basketball game. I still had to go out and do them, then come in, clean up, and start doing my homework for the night. I didn’t talk to her about boys. Heck, I don’t even think she knows my very first kiss happened when I was 15 years old! We simply didn’t talk about boys…it was, as they say, too embarrassing.
Yet, I could talk to her about the biology of my body and my period without a problem. Go figure.
“My bottom is my delinquent daughter. I lavish praise upon her cheeks when she’s well-behaved and when she gets out of control, I pretend she isn’t mine.”
Now, I am perfectly aware that Anna Johnson, author of The Yummy Mummy Manifesto, is speaking of her ass-sets, I’m sure, but I also couldn’t help but think about how I’m sure my mother regarded me at times. I’m sure my mother preferred to worry about her back-end than what trouble I was getting myself into at times. I’m all 99% sure she wished her back-end was the worst of her problems when I was just coming into my teen years.
I was a handful. I’m not going to deny that one bit.
I’m so happy my mom and I can sit around our fire pit, drinking margaritas, and talk about everything going on in our lives. I even gave her the entire lowdown on what’s been happening in my dating life for the past couple of months. (Okay…so maybe I didn’t tell her every single nitty-gritty detail. I don’t want my mother having heart palpitations for a week straight.) But she is, and always will be, my bestest best friend. She knows me better than anyone ever will, and that’s saying something.
I told her straight to her face that she could never, ever leave me. I wouldn’t accept it. This was also after I tried with all my might to save a batch of cookie dough, but just wasn’t doing something right. I was throwing handfuls of flour onto the clump, I was barely touching it with the rolling pin or handling it with my bare hands. Somehow, I just couldn’t get it to stop sticking to my rolling pin to save my life. What happens? My mom comes over, adds one more handful of flour, kneads it like a ball of bread dough, and it rolls perfectly. How am I supposed to be a successful adult when I can’t even make a simple thing like sugar cookie dough?
My mother is a Jedi Master, I’m sure of it.
Only For a Few Days
The weekend has come for my time to host my sister’s Bridal Shower and Bachelorette Party! Which means I will be in the middle of nowhere with no internet access, so I won’t be posting for a few days.
Take care of yourselves, and I’ll fill you in on my weekend’s happenings when I come back.
Thanks for following, and I’ll be talking with you soon!
May the Force be with you.
Um, Hello…? Where Did June Go?
If we were sitting in a visual setting right now, you’d see me sitting in the back of the room, head in my hands and shaking a furrowed brow at the table top. Not in disgust. In utter amazement at myself.
Okay, maybe a little disgust at my mental capacity to blank out of reality on a regular basis.
A small confession to make: I’m a little behind the times, and completely lost track of what day of the week it actually is. If you lived the schedule I have, you’d get your days messed up and confused just as easily.
So, my confession is quite simply this: I didn’t acknowledge that it was July until my supervisor walked by me at work this morning, chitchatting with me as she beelined for the bookcase behind me, and I slaved over my current project of the hour. She asked how my summer was going, and I replied with an enthusiastic, “It’s going great! So much is happening, and I’m loving the weather.”
Her reply to my statement: “I totally agree, although I feel like I slept through all of June. Where has the summer gone? It’s the 4th of July tomorrow already!”
She proceeds to walk away, and I stare at the bookcase she had been perusing mere seconds before. It’s July…July 4th in less than 24 hours…and I’m only realizing this now?
WTF?! What have I been doing for the last month of my life? I totally acknowledge that my birthday happened about a week ago, and I had been looking forward to that for some time, but what about the time that seems to have eclipsed since then? Apparently my brain decided time was going to stand still on the day immediately following my birthday.
If only I was so lucky.
So, summer is just about half over. If anything is going to throw a wrench in my day, that’s going to be it. This realization that summer is fully upon us, and what have I done with myself? It wouldn’t be fair to say I haven’t done anything. Not true. I have done a small amount of exciting adventures. Some I’ve told you about. Others are meant for only me to know until my dying day. What are they?, you ask.
I’m not about to tell you any time soon, so just stop asking already!
I do have to say I haven’t gotten out to the beach nearly enough this summer. I broke out of the gates right away when we had those ungodly nice days in May when I was fresh out of school, but I haven’t really been back since. A day here and there, but nothing substantial, and my skin color is starting to be the same shade as everyone else. Bronze, bronze and more bronze.
I need to be a part of the More Bronze category. Anybody else hear my competitive side kicking in, or am I the only one? I am who I am. What else can I say?
“The feminists took me as a role model, as a mother. It bothers me. I am not interested in being a mother. I am still a girl trying to understand myself.”
Isn’t that the understatement of the century? I barely understand myself. Hell, I have barely scratched the surface of who I am or who I’m going to be. You hear that, Louise Bourgeois, the lady credited with founding confessional art.
While July fills me with melancholy, nostalgia and grief that summer’s end is on the distant horizon, it’s also a great reminder that summer is here and it’s here to stay. Because I barely know myself, there are a few things yet to look forward to that I haven’t accomplished for this season of sunshine:
– Bonfire and Beer on the beach
– the State Fair! (I know, I know…not until August, the true ending of summer)
– Playing Frisbee on the beach
– Finding the perfect summer alcoholic beach beverage (and an inconspicuous container in which to carry it in)
– Adding a few more sundresses a la Kate Middleton to my wardrobe
– Cleaning out my closest to make room for said sundresses (saving that one for a rainy day)
– Four-wheeler ride through the hay fields back on the farm
– Watching ‘The Dark Knight Rises’ on the big screen on opening night (OMG!)
– Attend a summer street festival of sorts
– Go Camping!! (I have a new obsession I think.)
– Wake up earlier than the sun to watch it rise over the lake (coffee is definitely expected to attend)
– Find a new favorite walking path (preferably on the beach)
– Road trip down to the cities to reconnect with college friends and drink ourselves silly (aka SHENANIGANS!!)
– Jump into a pool with all my clothes on
– The One-Man Star Wars Show (still need to get my hands on tickets…and soon!)
And I’m sure there are a million other things I want to do, but this list could go on for a while, so I’ll just stop now.
My main mission tonight? Getting everything assembled for the pending Bridal Shower and Bachelorette Party taking place this weekend. YES! The time has finally arrived, and I’m very calm headed about everything right now. I have quite a few phone calls to make, and I’m procrastinating on them for what reason, I’m not too sure. Because I hate talking on the phone? My vote is yes on that one.
It’s all going to go swimmingly, and I just cannot wait. It’s going to be a night they are going to remember, that’s for sure. I only hope they remember this is for my sister, and it’s her night. Everything I planned is because I knew she’d enjoy it, and if they stop being prudes for more than three seconds, I know they’ll have fun with it, too.
Everyone is allowed a night where they can be a little naughty for once in their life.
What are a few things you have planned yet for your summer?
In case the temperatures are getting too sweltering for you, make sure to grab an ice-cold beer or two. Lots of water will help, as will your own personal fan. It’s scorching temps here, so wherever you are, remember to keep hydrated if you’re working extensively outdoors (and no, I do not mean have another margarita while lounging by the pool.)
H20, people, H20!
It’s the real Aqua de Vida.
How About an Unconventional Career Path?
Is it possible to have a sort-of out-there career and totally make a living doing it?
It’s a vague question, to be sure. What can be defined as ‘sort-of out-there?’ For starters, someone who Facebooks, Tweets, Tumbles, and Pins all day long. The fact that those are legitimate verbs still gets me every time. How life has changed since the 1990s, and the way we communicate.
Granted, you have to remember, around the time that Bicentennial Man starring Robin Williams came out, everyone was convinced we’d all have robots acting as servants in our homes by the 2010 years. Guess what? It’s 2012, and the closest thing I have resembling a robot servant, or helper, however you want to phrase it, is a Roomba. Honestly, I don’t even own one. A Roomba is the closest thing I have to that, if I were to purchase one. And if I did….I would put a picture of Tom Cruise on it.
Then, I could honestly say, I have Tom Cruise vacuuming my house at this very moment. How does Scientology feel about that?
Back on track here. Is it possible to sit in an semi-fancy office, or at my desk at home, and get paid to work every social media outlet I can possibly think of, and get paid mega-bucks to do it? Probably if I’m good at it, and the online marketing brought attention to a product or business. Sure..the sky is the limit, especially if you know how to use and utilize social media sites.
Plus, theses types of sites are thing I use every day of my life to begin with. I’m still leaning myself, but it would be pretty awesome to be paid to write, tweet, pin, and everything in between.
Other bizarre jobs I would love to do and get paid decently for? Travel to exotic resorts and review them. Not just written reviews, but get out there and test the facility. Is their pool really as nice as their website claims? Their spa…just how relaxing is its atmosphere and employees? Will they hack me to death with an olive branch, or will they chatter my ear off when all I want is a simple, blissful back massage? I want to try out the local festivities, and let people know when its a good time to come and see these locales and what to check out when they get there. It’s probably freelance work, and I’m not sure how I feel about freelance yet, which is strange, given my status in the world as an artist and writer.
Let’s remember here…getting paid to travel would be bomb. If I get to write while I’m at it, even more so bomb.
What other out there jobs are there…Is it possible to be a professional date? I know they have escorts in Vegas, but that’s not what I’m talking about here. I clean up nice, love going to events, and meeting new people. If someone wants a lady on their arm for a professional event, merely so they don’t have to show up alone, is it possible to serve someone as a ‘professional date?’ However you phrase it, I know it’s going to sound like riding on coat tails to get there and in order to be paid, certain events must transpire at the conclusion of the evening. So NOT what I’m referring to here.
If I wanted to work as an escort, I’d move to Vegas, buy half a dozen dresses that barely cover my derriere in bright, bold colors, 5 inch platform stilettos, and I’d be on my way.
I tend to be classier than that, like, always.
One occupation that I know is real , it’s just a matter of getting the job…being a Jedi Knight at Hollywood Studios in Orlando, Florida. A friend recently shared a video of me where they perform ‘Jedi Training Classes’ at random times throughout the day within the theme park, and there are 5-6 people walking around decked out in Jedi attire, and they teach kids how to fight with the lightsabers. Nothing too difficult, as they are Younglings and growing in their skill sets. But, to host these training courses, sign me up! I have great public speaking capabilities and a vast knowledge of the Force. I’m not too bad with a lightsaber, either. Hollywood Studios, I’m ready for my close up!
What else…Professional food taster will always rank high on the list of ‘If this were a real job, I would totally be harassing the HR department for a job.’ Who wouldn’t want to sit and taste dish after dish, and then give your opinion on it?
Along with that, movie reviewer. See, there’s a problem with this one since technology the way it is allows anybody who has an opinion to give it to you, be it about film, a book, a recipe, or a news bit they saw on Good Morning America. Look what I’m doing right now…giving you my opinion and thoughts on jobs I’d love to work, if they existed. (I’m pretty sure some of them do! Now…how to secure them and list myself as ’employed’ under a company banner?)
One area of life I’d love to delve and be paid for…are you ready for this? If you said Star Wars, yes you would be right. However, that’s not what I’m getting at here. I love astrology, horoscopes, the zodiacs and their specific characteristics…I love it all. So, is it possible to be paid to monitor people, observe them, and help them in life according to their zodiac? Much like a career counselor and using MBTI codes to help them in their career paths, except this would be for a whole lifestyle observation, but all according to their zodiac.
If so, can I please sign up for further courses, and learn how to help people with their natural selection as a Crab or Bull?
“I despise men profoundly and from conviction.”
Your words speak to me in a different way than their intention, I’m thinking, Marie Bashkirtieff, a short-lived Russian bluestocking.
When she says ‘I despise men,’ I see “men” as “the man.” “The Man” is always holding us down, telling us that we indeed cannot do what it is we seek to do, that we are unqualified and incapable of things within our own powers and beyond. “The Man” keeps us close to the ground when we should be soaring among the eagles (Happy Monday inspiration everyone!)
I, like Marie Bashkirtieff, despise “the man” and it’s a battle I’m not letting up on anytime soon. If I want to train young children visiting Hollywood Studios how to fight with a lightsaber (albeit they’re plastic, but still good nonetheless!), I will find a way to do so.
Happy Monday, indeed!
If you can dream it, you can do it! (Oh, come on…I had to.)
A Little Thing Called Pressure
Pressure.
This simple, tiny word describes more about my life in the past month than any other. And what a word to rely on to describe my life in a nutshell.
Pressure.
It’s all around me, and everyone else I’m sure. The worst kind of pressure is when it rubs onto everyone around you, whether you intend to pass the dark cloud over their heads or not. It sticks to you like the worst kinds of humidity. No matter how much you try to shake it off, drink away the tension, yell at someone until your vocal cords hurt, or punch your pillow until it’s finally bad to its rightful plumpness. It hangs over you like a cloud of skunk stench.
Pressure.
It comes in all shapes and sizes, and many, many different forms. Training for a mediocre new job. Choosing my career path. Getting applications done, proofed and out via virtual mail or the real thing. Relationships. Do I pursue. Let him pursue. Holding hands. What does it mean. Crashing on his couch. Paying for dinner. Taking a walk. Going out for drinks and getting tipsy. Sexual tension. Do we or don’t we. A simple kiss good night. A brush of a hand. Wanting more, but knowing better. Family. Get a job. With benefits. What are you waiting for. Wedding planning. Money leaving my wallet faster than I can count it. Food. Pure Pleasures Party. More food. Gifts. Is this the right bridal shower gift. Invites and RSVPs. Did I get everyone. Medical care. Am I healthy. Has it come back. Something doesn’t feel right. Take your meds. Those cost money, too. Renew a prescription. Take more meds. Explain health to guy currently “seeing”. Hope he doesn’t lose interest or hate me. Time alone. Thoughts collide. Pressure builds. Friends call. Missed texts. Anger is shown. Crap…I screwed up. Open a beer. Stupid decision. Extra pounds. Kiss him again. There’s a bed. Don’t do it. Not yet. Go home feeling confused. Lay awake. Can’t sleep. Too tired in the morning. Can’t focus. No interviews. Another resume. New policies at mediocre job. Watching your every step. Go home. Not hungry, but eat anyways. Bloated. Can’t sleep. Spend money on over-priced extra shot of coffee. Go to his house. Laughter. Fall asleep on shoulder. You can stay over. Should I or shouldn’t I. Can’t sleep. Wake up early for mediocre job.
The cycle goes on and on.
What am I doing with my life?
Pressure.
It’ a great thing, and a bad thing. If not handled correctly, it could implode everything you’ve ever worked for.
It’s the thing, it’s every day life. I’ve dealt with pressure as long as I can remember. It’s starts early for us women. Are we skinny enough? When will we grow boobs, and when we do, will they big or barely there? Cramps…they suck. No need to delve in there. I work out, but how do I work out without having too much muscle? I don’t want to look like a man…
This sort of mind talk starts early, and I was victim to it. Senior year of high school, I went on a very low-cal to barely eating diet. I worked out harder than I ever had in my life. For what, you might ask. So I’d look good for my senior prom. It was the first time I fit into a Size 4 dress with room to spare. I tried to keep it that way, but when I got too tired to walk across my farm’s yard to feed the cat’s their dinner at night, I knew I had a problem.
Pressure.
“Men are perfectly good. The trouble is that they are only good for one thing at a time.”
Michelle Lovric, a noteworthy novelist, you speak a truth about men. They are not great at multi-tasking and I have fallen victim to this male trait on more than one occasion. How do you get his attention away from COD? I could sit next to him naked, but we’ve only gone out on about 3 dates. How do I get him to respond to that text? Calling him will only turn him off. Try the rubber band effect. No good? Well, shit. Now what?
Pressure.
Look perfect. Never complain. Try to keep your opinion light and funny, but still sticking it to them. You’re too crazy. You seek what is not there. No, a gentleman of chivalry still exists. You’re too high maintenance. I wear jeans and t-shirts more often than not. Your hair is too nice. I’m sorry? We’ll talk later. No missed phone calls. A confrontation. “I’ve been really busy.” Bullshit. Tell me the truth to my face. Naw, I’ll just say I’ll talk to you later. Asshole. Back to square one. Here’s a nice guy…I think?
See? PRESSURE!
Some of it may be self-induced. Others parts, not so much. Before I cause you to sink into a fit of pressurized self-berating and tears, my Friday was sort of Fabulous, and here’s why.
Fabulous Look:
Fabulous Fireworks Show:
Fabulous Semi-Healthy 4th of July Treat:
Fabulous Stage Moment:
Fabulous Love Note:
Fabulous Country Frame of Mind:
Fabulous Laugh:
Fabulous Pet Care:
Fabulous Food Trick:
Fabulous Truth:
Fabulous Booze Infused 4th of July Treat:
Fabulous Disney Reality:
Fabulous Festive 4th of July Treat:
Fabulous Anytime Snack Food:
I hope your weekends are starting up the way they should be.
Go out and be Merry!
This is One Girl Who Loves Her Food…Maybe Too Much
Officially a year older, officially closer to a landmark ago, and officially closer to this thing everyone keeps insinuating is going to happen all because I’m getting older. Apparently, I have to start acting my age?
What a total life. I know 40-year-olds who act less like an adult than I do. So I’m not too worried about anything pressing charges against me for occasionally acting like a 13-year-old still. In the last couple weeks alone, I can tick a few instances off my fingers of when I needed a slap across the face with a warning of “Act your age.”
Well…you live, you learn. It’s the only way to figure it all out.
I really need to stop getting up in the morning without the intention of having some sort of solid breakfast. The past week has seen me getting up, heading into the shower, getting my hair done, brewing a pot of coffee, put on my clothes for the day (or plan the clothes I need to wear later on in the day), pour freshly brewed coffee into my travel mug, and walk out the door to head off to whatever job I’m working that day. Insane me is still working 3 different jobs. Thank goodness one of them is based on the hours I’m available to work, or I might drive myself insane.
But changes might be on the horizon. Keep your fingers crossed for me. I should know within the next couple of days if certain changes are to be made to me current living style.
Since it was my birthday this past weekend, I’ve been a little behind the times. Escaping to a beautiful lake almost in the middle of nowhere has that effect on a person. Leaving you reeling and wondering what has happened in the real world since you left it. Granted, I was only away for 24 hours, but still. I hate coming back to reality sometimes. Reality tends to bite worse than most things, which I discovered not so shortly after my birthday has dropped its curtains.
While out at this lake, my parents were able to join me as well as a few other members of my family who I haven’t seen in ages. If there is one thing my family knows how to do, its prepare a feast not only for the eyes, but also for the stomach. What a perfect way to kick-off the official season of summer (In case you didn’t know, summer doesn’t actually start until June 22, so I’m legitimately a summer baby!)
Perfect day by the lake with a grill, that’s what my birthday was. Don’t forget the pontoon. Oh man, we grilled fresh hamburger on the grill with just the right seasoning. We had fresh corn on the cob, potato salad made by someone who knows how to make potato salad (it’s a family secret I have yet to be let in on), baked beans, a strawberry vinaigrette salad, my favorite Italian noodle salad, pickles from the garden, and of course, a chocolate cake with fluffy white frosting to spare.
I ate so much. I’m still feeling it three days later. If there is one thing I can’t resist when it comes to grilling like this, it’s corn on the cob. I could eat the stuff without taking a breath without a care in the world as to what it will do to my digestive system in the following days. Slather on some butter, a touch of pepper, and OMG.
It’s heaven on a stick. There’s an idea for the State Fair, isn’t it?
“Being in love with yourself means never having to say you’ve got a headache.”
After the spread I inhaled that evening by the lake, Ellie Laine who is quite the crowd pleaser, I should have been ready to belly flop on the dock and not move for the next 8 years. However, I know what she is referring to. The last thing that should have been on my mind that day was going back home to find me a man to spend the night with. In reality, I didn’t have to search. I had plans with one on account of my birthday.
Other than shacking up with a guy, the thing farthest from my mind should have been more food. But, coming from the family I do, if there is one thing we’re always ready to do, it’s eat. Bottomless pit is exactly what we are. I get it from my Dad’s side of the family.
Needless to say, I didn’t have a headache, but I did have a very full tummy when the evening started to draw to a close. For my birthday, my guy friend announced he was cooking me dinner. Not just any dinner, but a chicken stir fry dinner. Have I ever told you stir fry is one of my absolute favorite meals of all time?
Stir fry is one of my absolute favorite meals of all time.
Grabbed a beer, sat down with my plate of stir fry, and went at it again. It was so delicious. He knows what he’s doing with that dish, that’s for sure. He even went so far as to pick out my favorite flavor of ice cream to compliment the meal (and knowing how much I love the stuff), but I was so stuffed, I couldn’t even think about ice cream at a moment like that.
Coming from the bottomless pit, that’s saying something.
So, instead, we put in a movie that saw us both sink into a food come shortly after.
A pleasant end to the evening if I do say so myself.
However, one thing is left to do for my birthday. I haven’t taken myself on a mini shopping spree yet as a personal birthday present to myself. I know exactly what I’m going for, but there are a few other things to keep an eye out for, and I’m going to share them with you now.
– Cookware
– Mattresses
– Gift for Dad
– Fishing and Camping Gear
– Men’s Cologne
– Summer Items
– Storm Windows
– Summer Clothing
– Televisions
– Building Materials
A few things here are a bit extravagant, but you never know when it’ll come in handy. A few others, I’ll look for them, find the perfect item, and remind myself, “In the future when you have a place all your own,” or, “In your wildest dreams, honey!”
A girl can never stop dreaming, or she’ll lose her mind.
Continue to have a fabulous day…
The Modern Jedi 