When is enough enough?

So I've decided that perhaps I'm a bit too connected. I've always been pretty accessible, but as I was just filling out my Yelp profile and then tweeting it (while opting not to FB it), things began looking a little absurd. I remember last month a friend was helping me get in contact with someone about a potential job. In the course of an hour, we communicated in no less than four different ways. He texted me to tell me to get on gchat. So I did and he told me what the details were. Then I called him with a question because I was driving and shouldn't gchat whilst operating a vehicle. Then I emailed him the resume. All of this within an hour. A bit ridiculous, no?

In the wake of this (and other similar incidences) I have since began tweeting regularly, joined and use four-square and just signed up for Yelp. All of this in addition and connection with my usual facebooking.

Since the beginning of the year I have used all of my new-found social media-ness twice in a productive way. Once to meet up with some friends (which the meeting was mostly to say I used social media to get with them) and once to read reviews of a restaurant I was about to go to.

So the question is, how much more connected could I possibly be? And furthermore, do people actually care about what I think or where I am at any given moment? As a media professional I feel like it's literally my job to keep up with all of these things, but I'm interested to see how long all of this lasts, and what the next new thing will be. Not to mention, as a culture, how will the need for constant approval/attention affect the kids growing up in this environment? Are we creating more diva's or are we really contributing to a more global society (instead of the look out for #1 mentality we've seemed to develop here in the States)?

Just something to ponder (and perhaps something to study when I eventually get started on my master's/PhD). How much is too much?

Random thoughts for the day

Wow.... So much for writing more often... it's been 22 days!!!!! That's like, three weeks and 1 day!!! (Which, incidentally, is exactly one week and one less day then the time I have left before activating SF!!!!!!!!)

Yes, I'm visiting San Fran. You probably know this b/c I won't shut up about it. I'm so excited!!! Have only been to Cali once, and fell in love and am hoping to fall in love all over again! My bestie is coming with me and we're staying with another really good friend that I haven't seen in waaaaaaaaay too long. I even bought a new jacket (and a new dress, but we'll see about the dress....)I would show you a pic of the jacket, but alas I got it from the most glorious website hautelook.com and now can't find a pic :( Perhaps I'll model it once it arrives. But here's the questionable dress!! It's by none other than my most favorite Michael Kors!

Slash now I'm not posting pics b/c I don't think either of my purchases will be here in time for the trip. Oh well!

Also, my store's closing, so you won't be privy to anymore creeper or men in heel stories. Not sure if you should be glad or sad about this.

Luckily, I do have another small freelance gig lined up (that I said I'd do for free, so we'll see what happens) doing something that I actually really love! HOORAY!

But now I have time to do The Stewpot again, and I signed up for a volleyball team. Oh- And I am "training" to run in the Colon Cancer 5k at the end of next month! And by run I mean walk. Maybe some jog. But I'm working on it. GO ME!

Finally, I just learned that in the life of my blog, it's been read in the following countries: US, Canada, Russia, China, the UK, Singapore, Germany, Denmark, Norway and France! I'm quite the global author.

So that's that.

Out of Chaos, Hope

The tree strewn across the roof of the building was at least three feet in diameter and was balanced so carefully across the roof beams it was almost believable that a giant had placed the tree there. As if he were balancing a matchstick on a house of cards as a mere reminder of his strength. The town beyond the road looked as if no one had lived there for years. Driving along the raised overpass of HWY 10 I could see the hard yellow plastic of McDonald's golden arches flapping in the breeze, serving as an ominous foreground for the scenes of destruction that were just beyond the service road. As a single red truck drove by that Saturday morning, it became apparent how lacking in life the town was. No green trees, only patches of mossy grass, no restaurant signs, no people, no cars, nothing. The scene was hopeless.

Four and a half years later, I can still see Slidell, LA as clearly as I could see the Dallas skyline as I approached my office this morning.

Earlier this week while I enjoyed the comforts of clean sheets and a cozy bed, I watched a special called Witness: Katrina on Nat Geo, and was quickly brought back to my time spent around New Orleans in February following August 2005's hurricane. Just watching the footage shot during and after the hurricane I felt my chest tighten with compassion and sorrow. I knew the people in the videos. I had seen first hand their pain and my heart again wept for them.

As a person who has always been obsessed by hurricanes (and any sort of natural disaster, really), the decision to skip school and camp out in haz-mat tents to do hard manual labor was not really a question for me of if, but rather of when.


(Our camp for the first leg of our stay in Houma, LA. Later we moved to and built our next camp that was used for more volunteers after we left.)

As soon as I heard that my church was one of several putting a group together to go help the Presbyterian Disaster Assistance organization with the demolition or rebuilding of homes destroyed by the hurricane, I signed up and told my professors I would be out for a week. What I didn't sign up for, however, was the rekindling of a lost friendship. Nor did I expect that six months after the hurricane the once thriving suburbs would still be desolate and empty. Literally, void of all life. The thing I did not expect most, though, was to leave as changed as I was.


While in Louisiana, we helped several families to rebuild their lives. They helped me to rebuild my soul. While Katrina represents many things to many people, to me it represents hope. That was, after all, the PDA's motto for their rebuilding efforts: Out of Chaos, Hope. On that trip I learned how to spray for mold. I demolished an entire set of kitchen cabinets with nothing but gloves, a mask, and a sledge hammer. I talked to people who had survived losing all of their possessions in a terrifying flood.

I learned compassion...

...Out of chaos, hope.

I learned that life is not about the possessions you may or may not have, but it is, rather, about the relationships you build...

...Out of chaos, love.

I learned that when opportunities are presented to you, you should take them, because you don't know how incomplete your life might be without the insight they offer...

...Out of chaos, peace.

As with all mission trips I have been on, I am the person who is healed. And so, out of chaos I found hope in humanity. I found love in deepening my relationships. And I found peace with myself.

The 3-0 Deadline. Or: It's not just me.

It's been awhile, but it's time for a smarticle! Ran across a topic this evening on my favorite blog, The Frisky, and though it hit pretty close to home. People in their 20s are just not ready to be the type of adult that our parents were 30 years ago.

After a bit of research, I found that my feelings of still needing to grow-up are not just arbitrary feelings, but more of an epidemic. Glad to know that despite constantly stressing about living with a family member after earning a college degree and scoring a full-time job, I'm not the only one. And when I obsess at age 26 that there's something wrong with me because I don't feel remotely close to getting married or having children, I find comfort that there's more out there just like me. And not just a handful, it seems.

After reading the New York Times article "What is it about 20?", I feel a bit enlightened (the title of this post links to the original article). Sociologists have studied radical trends emerging in people in their 20s that are immensely different from generations past. We're more likely to move back home while searching for a job. We're also getting married later (26 for women and 28 for men), and having children later than any other generation.

It's nice to know what I deem as self-inadequacies are actually the new societal norm!

But the question is, why this shift to a 30-year childhood that would make Peter Pan jealous? It's not just the economy. This trend of prolonging adolescence has been measured prior to this most recent economic decline. Now granted, we do have the ability to reproduce longer with different things to aid us, so the biological clock can tick a little slower. Or is it that we're living longer, so the natural progression of life stretches to fill the extra years that we're able to tack on?

One of the answers the NYT suggests is that we've been taught not to settle, so why should we? I think this is the answer most relevant to me. My generation is the one where everyone is a winner. Instant gratification is demanded. Perhaps the idea that we want what we want, when we want it, is the culprit of our slowed development. Not to mention we've all been told we're the best, regardless of actual effort or performance. I know that I have been taught that if I dream it, I can achieve it. Hello, own personal heaven. Is that not the mantra we still teach our children? It makes perfect sense, then, that we've been trained to accept nothing but the best. Well, our individualized idea of whatever the best is. And we have developed the tenacity to keep on mucking through mediocrity, awaiting perfection. After all, we expect that just around the corner all our dreams will come true, as long as we show up and take advantage.

I guess it all boils down to this. When will we ever grow up? I vote when we all turn 30... or 35 which apparently is the new 25. That seems to be the magic number. I guess only time will tell! Until then, I'll keep educating myself on the ways of the world to forge ahead and lay my path perfectly so when I do finally become an adult in 4 years, it will be everything I imagined and more. After all, age is nothing but a number!

I live in Legally Blonde, the movie

Well, at least I did today for a few minutes. So I was in the store this evening and we had scheduled a pick-up from UPS. Usually we have the same old UPS guy. He's perfectly nice and we've chatted for a bit, but he's not my cup of tea. He's no Mr. Yes-please, to put it bluntly. (But then again, not many people are. Also, yesterday I failed to mention that Mr. Yes-please was awkwardly buying pants with a pair he owned on his arm, then he bought a second pair, and refused a bag or to hang it up. Perhaps picking up pants on the way to work? wonder what happened to the originals... Irrelevant either way.)

So yes. UPS. We had a pick-up today since some of our spring products are going back to the warehouse to make room for the new fall line. It's always nice to have a pick-up because there's guaranteed interaction on slow nights (which tonight was). But tonight I was in for a treat!! The OTHER UPS guy came to pick up our boxes. The OTHER guy is the hot guy. Similar to Mr. Yes-please, he too could be a movie star! Even my boss admitted that when she passed him in the mall she had to do the see-you-then-promptly-look-down-because-your-beauty-overwhelms-me-a-bit-head-on move.

Yes, I had to look away too, but not after cooly chatting with him as he made small talk and carried the boxes easily on his shoulder. The boxes were filled with old product. Heavy when in numbers product. And Mr. M (as in mmmmmmm!) just picked those boxes up like he was lifting a feather.

But the whole point of this is not to prove that I'm blasted boy-crazy this week, but that I had to seriously contain myself from knocking a pen on the floor, seductively walking over to it in my 4" wedges and saying "WHOOPS" while peering through my abnormally awesome lashes up at Mr. M. Ladies, you all know where my head's at. The Bend-N-Snap. It almost made an appearance. I am wearing my skinniest jean/leggings today. PRIME bend-n-snap attire. I can see it now. He would reach for the pen. I would say, "Ooh.... I've got it" Again, peering through the Dior coated amazingness that fringes my eyes. After a little wink I would extend my right leg in front of me (quite like a prancing horse, come to think of it) until my knee was flattened out, and I would slowly, laboriously bend at the waist to pick up the pen. Arm slowly reaching down the length of my leg, drawing attention to my heels and muscular calf.

He would be riveted as I slowly clasped the pen between my fairly well-maintained manicured fingers. Just when I had his attention, I would quickly upright myself, flashing my Cali-beach waved 'do that I chose today, in an irresistible way where the blonde tendrils would land a bit mussed, as if I've just had a romp in the sheets.



And then I'd fall over from standing up too fast and the moment would be over.

But I feel like this might be the way to start a story of how we met. The Bend-n-snap... works every time! If you want to look a fool! If he comes back, I might give it a go, just to see how someone would react to this... EEPS! Wish me luck and courage, because I feel like this could be the start of a beautiful friendship... based on us laughing at me being a total dork weirdo!

Comic Absurdity or, The Story of My Life

I want to start this post off by clearly stating that I really love my grandmother, who is my current roomie. She is one of those people who inspires everyone she meets to become a better person. She is kind, caring, non-judgmental, devout in her faith, accepting, giving, the list goes on and on, as those of you who know her can attest to. She really is my role model.

And I say all of the above in a non-sucking-up for what I'm about to say sorta way. She really is awesome and I know how blessed I am to have her in my life. We all are.

So with all those accolades, I do have to say she has some faults, like any human being. And I'm not going to list them online, as that would be rude. But this morning (and both summers that I have been privileged to live with her) she presents me with some questionable logic. This is, of course, regarding the air conditioner.

Now one of my grandmother's greatest strengths is that she is by no means materialistic in the slightest. She knows what really makes people happy, and knows that it is not things. Because of her non-materialism and frugality, she is great at saving. She saves money; recycles all cardboard, glass, metal, etc.; recycles used cooking oil; even saves the broth from cooking veggies to make soups. But the one thing that I cannot understand are her saving tactics when it comes to the blasted air conditioner!

First, she keeps the thermostat set on 78-80 in the summer. Might I remind everyone that I live in Dallas. That's in Texas. Where it's hot. HOT! Like, 105 degrees for days on end hot. I'll give her that she's old and has thin blood, but not all of us are! But that's the price I pay for having such an amazing, generous roomie. I'm hot ALL OF THE TIME when I'm at home. I can get past this, really. (Well, get past it with some complaining to friends and occasional trips to the thermostat before I go to bed... SHH!)

Now here's what I don't get. So please, if someone could explain this to me, it'd be great. She sometimes turns the air off of auto (again, at 78-80 degrees) to run. This means the fan constantly runs to move the air around the vents. Now, she does this to keep it cool while not turning the thermostat down so as to save money on the electric bill. This is faulty logic to me. In Jana-land, it would be more cost effective to run the actual air conditioner a bit more frequently. So here's my equation of electricity used:

24 hours of fan > less than 24 hours of air conditioner being on

I feel like that's a pretty solid equation. But what do I know about air conditioners...

Additionally, this morning she mentioned that the next time we have company, we need to close the air vents to both her room and my room so all the air goes into the part of the house that we're using. Now, this logic makes more sense to me. BUT, will it really make a difference?

Let's say that we have company for 4 hours. Will diverting the air from both of our rooms to the living areas save enough cool air so that we will not have to turn the air down from 78? No... The air will still only be cooled to 78, regardless of amount of air siphoned to other rooms. Thus, we're saving money for 4 hours b/c the air won't have to be on as long? I don't know. I can't think of an equation to help with this one.

FINALLY, as posted on FB, I have a blasted eye infection. Thus, I'm already 10% more irritable than usual. I was able to be squeezed in to the eye doc last week, and was given a joint steroid/antibiotic drop for my good 'ole eye. This directly relates to the air dilemma, just go with me. My drops need to be stored between 59-77 degrees. I CAN'T DO IT! With the thermo set at 78-80, there's no way in Hell that my house will ever reach a frigid 77 degrees. This frustrates me. There is no equation or no solution, just me whining. When storing your eye drops in your own house becomes a problem, there is ample reason for annoyment. At least now, if I go blind, we'll know why.

So that's my rant about the air conditioning. Again, if you can help clear up some of the faulty logic that I just can't wrap my head around, please help! Until then, I'll just be sweating in my room, suffering from dry eye thanks to the fan on high blowing right at my face.

Some cocky reflections

I have been called many things in my life. Beast, rude, negative, control-freak, Vajana, the list goes on and on and on. Some things of course stand out, but then there are names I'm sure I have been called that I can't remember at all. With all the name calling that goes on in one's lifetime (or quarter of it), there is one thing that I can say I'm honestly pretty glad I'm called.

Cocky!

I've been told I'm cocky, confident, aggressive, full of myself, and every derivative thereof. But I have to say, I'm proud of myself for that! Of course I have my weaknesses, and there's countless things I wish to improve upon, but for the most part, I'm very content with myself. Overly content is more like it!

But here's why... (And I've said this since High School, so bear with me if you've heard it before)

I am my own biggest fan because, let's face it, most people in the world will tear you down at some point. There are enough people in everyone's life to say bad things about you. To tell you you're not good enough, not pretty enough, not thin enough, not confident enough, not enough... You name it, I guarantee there is someone who will be all to happy to insult you.

But my philosophy is this... There's enough people in this world to make me feel bad about myself. By George, I refuse to be another of them! There are things I excel at and things that I don't, so you better believe I'm going to toot my own horn when applicable!

So that's that. Yes, I'm cocky. Yes, I'm proud of it. No, I don't think I'll ever change. At least I hope I don't!

Shoe fiasco x 2.5! Or, my near death experiences.

After 2.5 near death experiences this weekend involving footwear, I'm feeling quite empowered. It's as if I am an evil-fighter in stilettos.

Last night was girls' night out with my favorite female cousin that's in the metroplex and over 21. She had never had a night of debauchery, and I was the lucky soul chosen to "break the seal", if you will, of her life-long sobriety. After stops at Gloria's, Zaza, and several other seedy, glad that I don't know the name of, bars on lower Greenville, I took her to the end-all, be-all of ridiculous night-ending bars.... Zephyrs. After hanging out in the bottle-service section for quite sometime while half of us tried to recover our bearings, we decided that some water and a short trek to the patio would do half of us some good in the impaired vision department.

While cautiously establishing our footing to one of the more isolated tables in the back of the patio, my shoe broke. My most favorite Tory Burch wannabe t-strap sandal broke! The part that connects the t-strap to the sole between my toe just went free. It was emancipated from the bondage of the plastic between my toes to soar high above my foot. While I'm all about liberation from bondage, this was neither the time nor the place. But as with most revolutions, this riot was out of my control.

So across the patio I continued to walk, Queen of Inebriation on my right, broken shoe still fastened around my ankle, sole dragging behind like a ball and chain, and t-strap flapping in the breeze. I nearly fell and broke my neck. Or at the very least, my perfect little nose.

While we walked, I deliberated the second hardest decision of the night (the first being what to order for my cousin). Do I continue to walk barefoot across the patio and risk stepping on a drug needle or worse, a lougi while the sole of my shoe drags behind me much like a dead dog being taken on a walk? Or do I lift my left leg like an over exuberant Clydesdale in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade? I opted for option 2. I have been called horsey a time or two, so I figured there was no better time to not only flash the world as my short skirt betrayed me with each step, but also to live up to the adjective too-often bestowed on me by my mother. Mammal trumped drug needle in this battle.

After the treacherous 20 foot walk, my comrade and I made it to our goal, where I made sure she would not fall over and then removed my pathetic shoe. After we were settled, I told my cousin my plan. "I'm going to the bar to see if they have a stapler or tape."

"You're just going to go up to the bartender and ask him this?" She asked with not just a hint of a laugh in her eye, but with audible guffaws so enormous that she nearly choked on her own amusement.

"Abso-f***ing-lutely I am." I told her, much to her chagrin and continued laughter. She was doubled up at this point, and I sincerely feared that she would be the one with a broken nose, as her face neared the unevenly bricked patio.

Now, life risking moment number 1.5 was upon me. Do I show off my mad hopping skills, and pogo it to the bar (at the entrance of the patio)? Or do I again risk the drug needle/spit-wad scenario avoided earlier? Drug needles and fluid it was. I gingerly stepped over to the bar and asked the bartender if he had a stapler or tape. He promptly said, you'll need to go inside for that. After I hastily held up my shoe and said in my best dead-pan, "My shoe is broken. I'm not walking in a bar barefoot."

Funny how when you tell someone how it is (with a nice tone and smile, of course), duct tape appears. Since duct tape fixes everything, my life was saved. Not to mention, I started a duct tape revolution at the bar as all the guys who had turned to watch me tape my shoe (They suggested I tape my shoe to my foot. Yeah, right! Think about pulling the genius quick-fix off... Ha!) suddenly found that they, too, had something that could be fixed by duct tape, and that now was the perfect time to do it.


Near death #2 happened tonight at the store. First of all, can I just say that wearing my 4" heels to work in retail for 6 hours is not the most genius idea I've ever had? I'd say it's right about on par with last night's suggestions of wrapping duct tape around my foot and shoe to avoid further barefoot drug needle escapades. Thank goodness I had the sense to bring my trusty gold flops, even if they don't really match the shades of gray ensemble.

A customer wanted to try on a pair of shoes that we keep in the back. I went to get them for her, and of course they had to be the top shoe on the top shelf of our tiny storage/office area. In the interest of time, I do what I always do... plant one bare foot in the middle of our little hot pink rolling office chair, and work out my thighs hoisting the rest of myself up. I will say, that I've been told not to do this, but I just can't be bothered with Snapper the ladder during customer crunch time! Not to mention that Snapper earned his name for a reason...

I'm usually pretty dang good at finding my equilibrium when balancing on the rolling trap of death and concussion, so I wasn't concerned at all when I had to reach up a bit higher than normal to grab the appropriate size. Well, I wasn't concerned until I over-compensated too far over to the right. I placed my hand against the wall a bit out of reach to the left, which of course put pressure on the outside of my foot, pushing my bottom half right while my top half was falling left.

For a moment, I looked like a star as one foot was firmly on a chair, the other foot (in the 4" stiletto) sticking out to balance me as far as it would go to the right, and my arms flailing out to catch my balance. As I stretched back into my original one-footed stance, I realized that my flail of horror wasn't over yet. In my attempt to re-position myself, I had thrown off my planted foot, and started falling again!

From the doorway I looked like a giant gray starfish, struggling to breathe when hoisted from the water, attempting a complicated ballet move. Leg to the right, arm to the left. Head held high, body doing the snake, I was falling backwards with just enough space to hit my head on the door as I plummeted to the ground.

Fortunately, my stiletto knew what to do! Spike stayed attached to my leg and thrust himself down into the ground, until I was firmly planted. He didn't bend or break, to my surprise, and within a second I had the shoe attached to my foot firmly back on the ground, and only a mild impact from landing on one tiny stiletto.

I didn't see my life flash before my eyes, just some dust that fell off the shelf as I stirred the air with my flail-for-my-life ballet moves. I never thought that I would be so thrilled to have sore feet from stilettos as I am tonight. Good work, Spike. You've earned your keep!

THEIF!

EXCITEMENT AT NORTHPARK!

Since my store is indeed a fishbowl of sorts with bright lights and hot pink inside an all glass facade and side wall, I get to see interesting things. Usually the most interesting things include people running into the wall, but not tonight!

On this unbearably slow eve, I saw a security guard acquaintance lead a handcuffed girl to the security office! Dun, dun, dunnnnnnnnn...

What had she done I wondered. Did she pull a knife? Did she try to steal? Did she write 1 too many hot checks?

My answer came about an hour after I watched the aforementioned culprit slink down the hallway. She had tried to STEAL! (Surprise surprise, I do work in a mall...) The question is, what did she try to take?

And the answer? None other than some LVs! This dork tried to steal Louis Vuitton. As if they wouldn't notice... As if they wouldn't have security measures in place to prevent such thievery. I mean, come on. If you want something bad enough where you need to steal it, should you perhaps make sure your plan is foolproof? Amateurs! (Slash I bet she got further stealing then I did since I've never actually tried to take something...)

The Offit

This is the story of Sedgewick Stanislav, the Offit (Office Hobbit) I dreamt up today at work while chatting with a colleague in my corporate office.

Sedgewick could hear the thunder booming outside of his office building, but he couldn't be bothered to give it a second thought as he lumbered ferociously down the dim hallway. He was at work at the Krag, which meant he of course was on a very important mission and could not afford any delay that weather pondering might create. You see, Sedgewick is not just an employee of the Krag. He is the Assistant Financial Billing Specialist in charge of invoicing who, after a raucous night at the local pub and an unforgettable morning in the bed of the VP of marketing, was quickly thrust into the spotlight as the new talking-head for the entire finance department.

As he continued his march towards the copy machine, his team of five invoice-rs peered over their cube walls to leer at the melodramatic Sedgewick and to see what problem their illustriously incompetent leader would create for them. While they were used to his usual office antics, he had recently employed some more drastic scare-tactics involving a double-edged sword he purchased at the War and Warcrimes video game convention he attended two weekends ago. The convention had been stocked full of weapons ranging from medieval swords and poison infused chalices to the newly acquired technology making light sabers a reality. While Sedgewick had been able to forgo the light sabers, he had always been a fanatic for all things Will Shakespeare and could not pass up the opportunity to purchase a replica of the dagger used in the 1971 production of MacBeth.




I've figured out what Sedgewick does next, but tired of writing about him b/c I can't get over the fact that my stomach is eating itself from hunger... Only 1 hr and 19 mins left of work... LONGEST DAY EVER!!!

Things that made me smile today

With the exception of a mild panic attack over nothing this AM, I found myself in an exceptional mood today! Here's why:

- Last night I believe I held the VISA equivalent of the coveted Black Amex... I felt it's power!
- My big toenail on my left foot is lookin' awesome today
- Last night I unknowingly liked my cousin's FB status, which she had copied from my blog
- This picture makes it seem as if I've climbed very high up a tree (I won't disclose actual climbing capabilities...)
- I'm taking the weekend off and heading to my fave TX town tomorrow
- While in said fave town not only do I get to visit a good friend, but we'll KAYAK! Tandem version. That means I'll be looking like this tomorrow:
- Two little girls that are in my store looking at handbags and shoes can't be older than the ripe old age of 10... Too cute!
- The fact that I had self control enough not to buy the DVF sarong that I wanted even though it was only $35. One does not necessarily NEED a sarong (regardless of DVF status and the internal coveting of anything by her), however one does need to be able to pay to go kayaking while in ATX!
- Going to Gap, trying on clothes that fit, and then deciding that I didn't like them enough to get them, and then actually putting them back. Did I mention that they even fit?!
- The fact that it's PAY DAY!
- The Bravery, Muse, The Killers, but most of all The Strokes "Someday" which came on Pandora and absolutely made my day!
- Finally buying the lotion I've been wanting for over a year, at a 40% discount!!

And the Pièce de résistance:

Telling the president of my company that my boss was on a conference call with Tom Petty (even though she wasn't, the name just sounded like the actual name of the guy she was on a call with that I couldn't remember... Tom Petty sounded familiar for some reason), having her laugh and say um... he's a famous rock star. To which I replied, leave it to me to say something stupid to you, you are kind of important, here... To which she replied that I could get away with it because of my awesome name! Granted, she does happen to share the same name as me... but I'm sure that little piece of info is irrelevant.

Yup. A pretty glorious day if I do say so myself!

AWESOME ONLINE RADIO!

I'm always in search of music to keep me going during the long workday. I've been a long-time fan of Pandora, last.fm, and the random youtube song search. But my BFF introduced me to the coolest site, and my new fave online "radio"!


http://stereomood.com

Unlike other radio sites I've used, here you choose an emotion, and stereomood plays songs that evoke that feeling. They have lots of emotions to choose from, and then show you the playlist with that mood. Not sure if their music selection is quite as extensive as other streaming radios, but it's sure a heck of a lot easier to choose "optimistic" over creating my own combo station to try and match my mood on pandora or last.fm!

GENIUS! Thanks, Lacey for the marvelous introduction!

You know you're tired when...

So I've been doing nothing but daydreaming for the past few weeks. Dreaming about all the clothes I'm going to buy for fall, dreaming about what nail polish will most disguise my one stump nail, pondering how to meet R.Patz (which will never happen, but it indeed is at least a topic worthy of a daydream) and most often scheming a plan to somehow work in the movie/TV industry. It's no wonder with all this dreaming that I'm exhausted! And, surprisingly, I don't really have anything to blog about! I mean, I ALWAYS have something to say! I suppose it means I'm boring this week. Must try harder next week!

The only super hilarious thing that happened (at least hilarious to me after not much to eat during the day and a couple of cocktails at night) was going out for some friends' birthdays. We were at a bar in the Big D just hanging out when over to the left there was an Amazon Woman dancing with a flashing stick. Actually, not sure if it was dancing.... It was more like squatting. Actually, come to think of it, she was quite similar to my dog Scruffadoodle when you pick her up and her leg kinda pops out in an unnatural splay-legged sort of way. She frolicked all 6"+ of herself around for quite awhile, using her scepter as a magic wand, as a pole (for pole dancing), as a parade baton... Did I mention it was multi-colored and lit up? She was quite a sight in an otherwise ho-hum bar. And I'm certainly not poking fun of her height- she was a pretty enough girl, but my my... I thought her leg was going to kill someone! Or possibly trip them while she awkwardly lunged in the inappropriate man lunge way to lean over to talk to her friends. Again, she provided many minutes of quiet entertainment!

So that's it. I blogged b/c it is my mid-season goal to blog more. So there you have it. Amazon woman danced with legs all akimbo flailing around like a fish out of water at times. And that's the excitement of the week. Too tired to even think about something smart to educate everyone on.

Hopefully my weekend trip to Austin will provide for some much needed blog material. I mean, how can I become Chelsea Handler if I run out of material at the ripe old age of 24?? (I'm contemplating lying about my age.... I feel like I could pass for 24!)

Till next time. Cheers!

PS, I realize akimbo is the wrong word, but it's kinda how her legs would've looked if they were arms... Did I mention that I'm exhausted?? ;)

Captain Narcissism

A while back I think I mentioned that I was reading the Narcissism Epidemic. And by reading, I mean I read a few chapters until I got bored. (Oh... and I did the self-test to determine how narcissistic I am, and I was pleased to find out that I was only at medium levels!)

Well, after some more introspection spawned by my insane addiction to all things that a teenage girl would be obsessed with (namely Twilight, Hannah Montana, and nail polish) I have decided that a long-ago thought of conclusion about my own psyche is now more of a truth than ever.

In one of my psych classes, we discussed Erikson's (that cute little German dude to the left!) stages of psychological development. An interesting point that my professor brought up was that when a child goes through a trauma during one of the stages of development, the child can remain stuck in that stage of development long-term. So after years of being focused on me, I've decided that I'm perhaps halfway stuck in the fifth stage of Erikson's 8 stages. This is the stage during adolescence (13-19) where adolescents are concerned about how they appear to others. One of the defining psycho-characteristics of this stage of development is that the child feels that they're constantly on a "stage", being scrutinized by others. This stage in development really stuck out when I was learning this originally in college when my professor said that children in this stage assume that everybody is watching them.

Well, I hate to break it to myself, but that's how I feel! That people are watching what I do. I mean, I suppose I know they aren't really, but even today as I was eating breakfast on the way to work I was concerned with what the car next to me would think if she saw me eat in the car. So I glanced over at the driver expecting them to be judging me and my breakfast on the run, and of course she was just doing her own thing!

My theory that I'm stuck in stage 5 came up again when I was discussing Eclipse with a co-worker. Now granted, every woman and her dog practically loves this book/movie series, but I'm obsessed! (Not that this is so abnormal, but combined with my love for Disney Channel shows like Wizards of Waverly Place and Hannah Montana, I'm starting to notice a trend.)

Finally, today I was discussing with one of my college besties my need for a life plan and how I want to go work in the movie industry doing promotions. We were talking about movies and famous people, and how I'm the ultimate escapist. I know movies/books/TV isn't real life, but oh how I struggle sometimes! (I mean, honestly.... I'm sure Rob P. would be my buddy if we ever met!) Now not that being the ultimate escapist is directly related or mentioned in Erikson's stages (at least not that I've researched so far), but I can't help but think that my unnatural longing for something more, that most likely isn't reality, are the same desires of an adolescent with the world at the fingertips. I'm a bit unrealistic, and am in-turn disappointed when life isn't movie-tastic! Surely it's related!

So today brought me back to college psych 101, and Erikson's stages of development. My trauma was the whole Dad dying thing when I was 17. All of the aforementioned thoughts are those, too, of a 17 year old version of myself. Thus, I officially declare myself stuck between stage 5 and 6. Not sure how I feel about this. I suppose I feel ok, as I just do what I do! But after all these years, it just goes to show that sometimes people never grow up, and that major life events affect people for years to come in unimaginable ways!

(For more info on Erikson's stages of psychosocial development, click the title!)

Prancing in heels

As I mentioned in the last post, part of my resolution was to pay off credit cards. To aid that goal, I have not only cut expenses, but also got a part time job at a high end handbag and shoe store. I've been there for a couple of weeks now, and had a most interesting experience yesterday!

A young man (I would guess between 20 and 25) came in asking if we were hiring. I told him, "No, sorry. We just hired our fourth person. Good luck, though!" To which he told me thanks and started walking out the door. On his way out, he grabbed a pair of our highest heels and said, "Oh My GAWD! I LOOOOOOVE these shoes!" It was quite apparent to me that he was of the homosexual persuasion, so I thought he was just admiring our handiwork. He eyed the shoes up and down, so I went through my normal selling points...

"Yeah, those are a great pair of shoes! All of our shoes have memory foam, so they stay super comfortable all day long. And I know the heels look a bit daunting, but since there's the inch platform in addition to the memory foam, this pair is so easy to walk in!"

I assumed that he was interested in the shoes for a family member of a friend. WRONG!

In response to my sales pitch his eyes lit up and asked me what size we go up to. I told him a 10 (by this time I'm catching on that maybe the shoes aren't for a friend, but rather for himself.) I told him that's my size, too, and he asked if he could try them on, and if so, did he have to keep his socks on. I told him that he should of course try on the shoes with whatever he'd wear them with, and that if he wanted, I would be glad to give him some of the little hose used for trying on shoes.

He proceeded to try on the 4" pair of shoes and tell me about how the other day he bought a $300 pair of 12" platforms. I was impressed.

After trying on a champagne colored heel, he spotted the same shoe in black. "Oh my GAWD! I HAVE to try that pair on too! Do you have a 10?" We did, and after asking for another hose bootie (his big toe ripped a hole in the right bootie from the first try on), he tried on the black pair of heels. He was in love and pranced around the store in heels.

At the same time the young man was frolicking in the back of the store, another gentleman walked by outside and did a double-take. After comically blinking he decided that yes, he did indeed see a man walking around in women's shoes in the middle of a high end mall. He gave me a questioning look to which I replied with a shrug. I mean, a sale is a sale, regardless of who wears the shoes!

At the end of the whole experience, the young sir asked me to put both pairs of shoes on hold for him, because he'd have to ask his husband if he could get them. Apparantly, he has a bit of a shoe and skinny jean fetish that his husband is getting a bit tired of paying for. I said, isn't that what husbands are for?

Certainly it was an experience I won't soon forget! Not only did the young man provide me with some humor (how often is it, really, that you see a man prancing about in high heels), but he also astounded me with his confidence. How remarkable that he was so sure of himself that he felt comfortable telling me, a complete stranger working in a high end store, that he was a) a part of the gay community; b) was a male with a husband (in the state of TX no less!) and c) was so sure of himself that he could try on and walk around in women's shoes!

This was surely a 4th of July I won't soon forget!

Wow.... I suck at this blog thing!

One of my New Year's Resolutions (yes, one of them... I had one main theme, which was then broken down into 5 parts) was to blog every day of the new year so I could eventually write a book. Well... I'm not much further on either of my short stories for a book, and you can clearly see when my last blog was. That's ok... No time like the present to start something back up!

So my NYR was 5-fold, all falling under the theme: The year to WIN is 2010! (Getting fine in 2009 was a bust, so I figured something a bit more ambiguous was in order!) The 5 parts of my resolution were as follows, including their status 6-months in:

1) Blog regularly (FAIL!)
2) Lose a substantial amount of weight (SUCCESS!)
3) Pay off all my credit cards (SUCCESS- well, in 9/10 total success!
4) Travel to SF and NYC (in the works... have plans to do so, at any rate)
5) Start a book club. Eat, Pray, Love has been our first book, (which we will eventually finish!) and then see the movie (Quasi-SUCCESS!)

So over-all I've done pretty well! (I'm counting last week's trip to Yellowstone as a half success for traveling, and we did have 1 book club meeting, and the other will happen, I'm just sure of it!)

So today I'm starting my 2nd half of the year resolution. To seriously consider doing something adventuresome. The more I think about my life, the more I get frustrated. Yes I have put a lot of pressure on myself to do something great, but here I am, 26 years old, in a job that's not going places as quickly as I'd like, living with Spaggy (which has been the most inspiring year of my life, but let's be honest... I'm too old to rely on someone else as much as I do), and about to overcome the peak of my personal mountain. I can feel that something exciting is just around the bend, and I just need to convince myself that the time is right!

My thoughts of adventure entail legitimately writing a book of short stories about my favorite topic... me! Also, I think I might travel to Thailand in the spring of 2011. Thailand in '11, it's gonna be heaven! Sound like a new theme to anyone else?

The main point of this rambley post is to share what has kick-started my adventuresomeness tonight(it's a word.. I just used it!) and it's a person. Anais Nin. I feel like I've been familiar with that name from random song lyrics or HS lit classes or something, for quite a while, but had no clue who she is. (Or even that she's a she!) So I did a bit of research, and have found a new muse. At least new to me, and a muse for the time being. Read the following and I dare you to not be inspired! (Don't just stop reading here... the best 2 are at the bottom!)

* "Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage."
* "We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are."
* "For me, the adventures of the mind, each inflection of thought, each movement, nuance, growth, discovery, is a source of exhilaration."
* "Creation which cannot express itself becomes madness."
* "Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death."
* "The only abnormality is the inability to love."
* "I postpone death by living, by suffering, by error, by risking, by giving, by losing."
* "Each friend represents a world in us, a world not possibly born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."
* "Dreams are necessary to life."
* "The dream was always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment with it, that was the miracle."

And my two favorite truths (well, truths to me):

* "It takes courage to push yourself to places that you have never been before, to test your limits, to break through barriers. And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."

* "I am an excitable person who only understands life lyrically, musically, in whom feelings are much stronger as reason. I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I cannot transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls."

Hoping to remember this as I enter the last half of 2010, the year to win! I can feel an excitement stirring (or maybe I'm still suffering from butterflies from seeing Eclipse, but doubtful!) and hope I make some exciting decisions in the nearish future! After all, it's just life... no one get's out alive and we can sleep when we're dead!

My theories on love

One of the best things about living with Spaghetti is that she has lots of smart, interesting things just laying around. Take, for instance, the book eat pray love by Elizabeth Gilbert. I had first spotted this book several months back on the table next to Spaghetti's chair, and thought hmmm.... I should read this before the movie comes out. So that's what I started, about a month ago. So I just picked it back up tonight while waiting for the potatoes to be done for dinner.

Within the first 5 minutes of reading, I came across this idea, which really resonates with me. Elizabeth is talking about a relationship she fell into after the demise of her marriage. She talks about how she fell into a desperate love with an actor who was playing a character from one of her short stories.

"He was playing a character I had invented, which is somewhat telling. In desperate love, it's always like this, isn't it? In desperate love, we always invent the characters of our partners, demanding that they be what we need of them, and then feeling devastated when they refuse to perform the role we created in the first place."

Maybe this idea of desperate love is a girl thing, or maybe it's a loneliness thing, but I'm finding that her summation of this desperate love and creating the partner you want, is particularly poignant at this juncture in my life. I have friends who have been in long term relationships who are now realizing that perhaps the person they're with is not the person that they've created in their heads. I mean, I know I've been there. I've fallen into this trap of a desperate love (granted, mine is one sided, but isn't most love like she's describing usually one-sided?) and have been continually disappointed when the object of my affection fails me in some silly way.

But the point to all of these musings (and yes, I'm finishing this blog post MONTHS after it began) is that Elizabeth recognizes that she creates these characters, and these fictitious people will not lead to her happiness. And I think that's worth noting. Knowing what will lead to dissatisfaction in a relationship is in itself a step closer to finding a true and lasting partnership.

Random thought of the day...

Growing up I was always told that I had a smart mouth that would eventually get me into trouble. Seriously, I can't count the number of times my dad would tell me that me smarting off was going to get me punched in the face. That a) doesn't make sense, and b) is nonproductive because the phrase merely promotes the bad behavior. Why would a smart mouth ever get me into trouble? Clearly it's smart enough to get me right back out of it. And as for the punching.... If my mouth was really smart, would it not alert me to the impending danger so I could pull a super-sweet punch-dodging move? I should think so! Also, if a child is told their mouth is smart, isn't that really like a compliment? I mean, who doesn't want to be considered smart? Just a thought...

7 Things

Across the blogosphere, fellow bloggers are letting their readers in on seven “little known” facts about their blog’s writers. My friend over at A List Baby(a most fabulous blog about all fantastic things for baby)tagged me to clue you in on myself! Here are some tidbits you may not know about me:

1) On past mission trips with my church I jumped off a couple of things. First I jumped off of a bridge (I say it was about 30 feet tall, but that was a guess from looking down) and into the river below in San Marcus. It was scary and fun and for that trip I earned the nickname Kerplop. On another mission trip I jumped from the roof of the house we were building onto a pile of dirt. It's amazing what you'll do when boys you're wanting to impress are doing it...

2) Like my friend Mary, I too adore Diet Coke. It is by far my favorite drink of all time. Especially when it burns my throat and makes my eyes water. That's just the best!

3) My favorite thing to do and daydream about is traveling. I have been to 12 countries (other than the US) on 3 continents: Belgium, Belize, Canada, England, France, Germany, Guatemala, Honduras, Luxembourg, Mexico, The Netherlands and Venezuela.

4) I have aspirations to get my Ph.D. either in Communications or Psychology.

5) I don't like creasing paper. It gives me the heeby jeebies and then I fear getting a paper cut. Especially construction paper. If it's construction paper, I won't even try- I'll use a pencil or ruler or something other than my finger to crease it.

6) Speaking of fears.... I have a fear of escalators. But only going down. I think it stems from my aunt ripping open her leg running back up the down escalator. I wasn't even there, but I'm always afraid I'll overstep and tumble to my demise.

7) I'm great at feigning confidence. If I don't know the answer to something (especially directions), I'll act like I know. Surprisingly, I'm usually correct!

OK- There's my 7 things. Now time to pass it on. The Dallas Morning Hughes, let's hear your 7 things!

Movie Reviews!!

With all the big fall movies coming out, I've seen several articles on what's creating Oscar Buzz. My list of Oscar-worthy movies to see is made (as well as my non-oscar, but I want to see anyway list)and I'm slowly making my way to the theaters to space out the contenders for favorite movie of 2009 (let's be honest... it's going to go to New Moon, what with my ridiculous 14-year-old self re-emerging with a vengeance!) But here's the two movies I've seen in the last week and what I think...


So I actually had great expectations for this movie. I LOVED The Day After Tomorrow but who can really blame me... Jake Gyllenhaal was in it... but that's neither here nor there. I liked that disaster film. It had enough extra oomph in the plotline so that when the end of the world got to be too much, or a bit cheesy, I could refocus onto the relationship side of the movie. 2012 had none of that. It was seriously ridiculous, I'm sad to say. So if you don't know what it's about (then I don't know how we're friends and you're reading this because I'm CLEARLY a movie fanatic...) let me give you a brief synopsis. It's 12/21/2012 (my 29th birthday!! EEPS!!) and the end of the world predicted by the Mayans or Incas or someone back in the day is upon us. So when the tectonic plates start shifting there's earthquakes, fire, doom and gloom. Basically, the perfect plot for some amazing stunts and graphic stuff. And I'll admit that I thought the graphics were pretty cool. At this one point, Santa Monica is sliding into the ocean, and I thought it looked really realistic. But that's about all that was realistic and awesome about the movie. The acting was ok, but it was the writing that I just couldn't get over, in addition to some cheesy camera angles that I probably wouldn't have chosen. Instead of adding to the heart of the film, some of the lines were literally laughable (Emily and I were cracking up). Also there was a particular camera angle used when someone was falling off something and it just cracked me up! This guy is plummeting to his demise, and I'm cracking up because the camera is falling with him, a close-up on his face, while his mouth is just opened in a wide "O" of shock.

I guess there's really not much more to say, other than I wish I hadn't spent my $5 on the Saturday matinee. It was amusing, yes, but probably the biggest movie disappointment, and certainly not worth all the hype for the last few months.

Luckily, my faith in film was restored last night when I went to see the long-awaited Precious.


Precious is about a 16 year old girl in Harlem in 1987 who lives with an abusive mother and is pregnant for the 2nd time by her father. This is probably one of the most intensely heartbreaking films I've ever seen. I can't even think of a movie where I felt remotely the same after watching. I guess the closest thing I can think of is how I felt at the end of Atonement. That was another film that was just heartbreaking (I honestly can't think of another word to describe it). The cinematography was more raw in this film, much less of a sweeping epic look like Atonement, or other high budget films, but it was perfect for the story. The angles and movement of the cameras just added to the rawness of the film. Even the music was an amazing fit. I would have never thought to include the upbeat music that was scattered throughout the film, but it just helps to add a depth to the main character, Precious, that was almost hard to believe existed after seeing the desolate, abusive life she had.

This brings me to the actors. I mean, wow. There has been a lot of hype and Oscar buzz already, and with good reason. Every actor was phenomenal, but I absolutely cannot get over Mo'Nique. I've seen her on talk shows and she's bubbly and personable, but in this film she was an absolute monster. And she was believable, and unrecognizable. For her to deliver the verbal and physical abuse she inflicted upon her daughter was hard to watch, and I can't fathom having to actually live it while in character. This is the first time I have ever had a physical reaction to a film. I wanted to puke in disgust a couple of times, while there were several other scenes that of course had me tearing up. The climactic ending was almost too much to watch.

The film does have a hopeful ending, which is nice after such an emotionally draining couple of hours. So far, this is my favorite film of the year.

More movies to come (if I remember!) Let me know if you've seen either of these and if you agree or disagree with me.