And So I'm Having a Wonderful Time...

Like Montreal, only different...

2012-01-28T21:48:00.002-06:00

When I was 20, I went to Montreal for a week. I went for the comedy. There's a massive comedy festival there every summer, so I went. I stayed in a youth hostel - about which, I wrote a joke; "Ten women, one bathroom - you'd be hostile too."

It was great, except that it was a little lonely. Even knowing enough French to get by, there was still a language barrier. I accepted coffee with a young man, only to realize he meant at his apartment...I figured this out and invented meeting my friends and ran off before we even got close to his place. But aside from that, I didn't have anyone to share my experience with. And that sucked. By my last day, I was so ready to come home that I went to the bookstore, bought a Maeve Binchy, went to the airport early and read.

I mention this because I got a similar feeling during my trip to Seattle. The Space Needle is amazing, but what good is it if you can't elbow someone and say, "Isn't this amazing - that's Mt. Ranier - it's HUUUGE!" It's also a pain to have to be in charge. When you're alone, you have to hustle to get the car, get the bags, figure out when to get up, where to have dinner, what to do after dinner.

While there's no rule by committee, there's also no sharing.

Green Screen Backdrop, but I did go to the actual Space Needle

Of course, that means if I order dessert, I don't have to surrender any of it.

I'm home now, and I'm glad to be here.

As it turns out, we have another trip ahead of us. This one is with some other people - but it's shorter. Still, it should be fun.

Back in Seattle, again...

2012-01-26T22:40:00.000-06:00

So. Big change from the last time I was in Seattle.

And I don't mean the layover from the Alaska trip.

I'm thinking of this post.

I feel like so much has changed. Like everything.

For one, I'm healthier.

For two - I'm so much happier.

For three - work is stable, and you might even say...amazing.

I'm also doing more. Went to the market, I've walked all over downtown.

And tomorrow, I'm thinking Space Needle.

Of course you know I went to McPhee.

So maybe not everything has changed.

ae

That Amaz...on!

2012-01-22T21:34:00.000-06:00

I'm headed to Seattle next week for work, and since Southwest doesn't offer in-flight wifi (perhaps the only thing Delta does "better"), I will need some reading material. I don't want to spend a lot of money, so this morning, I did a search at Amazon for free stuff I could throw onto the Kindle.

Well, as it turns out, I haven't looked at the free stuff in ages. And...

As it also turns out - you know how we thought I was super cool and hip? Well...yeah, I'm not.

See, Kindle has a lot of free content that is basically...porn. And, you know, I like porn - well, I don't actually like porn - I think it's pretty hilarious - but I understand that men are visually stimulated and that men like porn. So that's fine with me.

I guess technically, since this is written material, it qualifies as erotica. Again, I'm down with that.

Except - there was some fairly specific content on Amazon. I submit, for your amusement:

*A is for Anal

*The Madame X School of Sex

*Elf Bitten; A Taryn Milloy Fantasy

*Stepdad Likes to Watch (Insatiable Stepdaughter)

*Bheca's Time at College With Jennifer [this is the worst title ever, seriously]

*Free Fuck - A Stranger Gangbang

*XXX-Tra Credit

*Skip Day with Brother

*Naughty Puppies [not a mis-shelved Children's Book]

*How to Eat Another Man's Wife

*The married guy's guide to (extra-marital) guilt-free sexual excitement - without cheating [actually, this title is pretty bad, too]

*Rachel Rabbit is Rarin' to Go

*Pounding My Mother-In-Law [author's name is Raminar Dixon...yep]

and possibly, my favorite - the reason I even decided to post...

*Santa Enters Through The Back Door

I could go on here. For hours.

No, I didn't download any of it.

But it made me realize that people out there are a lot freakier than I give them credit for.

Different strokes for different folks.

But if they can get that stuff up on Amazon... why again, am I not a bestseller?

Maybe I should crank out some hilarious fictitious sexploits, slap on my porno nom de plume (Wyntri Mixxx) and make a little cash.

And then, you know - finish the great American novel and cement my name in history forever. Under my real name.

Yeah, I'll let you know...

Love/Hate

2012-01-21T21:19:00.001-06:00

There's something you should know about me. I did not eat at a Cracker Barrel for the first time until I was 23 years old.

I tell you that because, growing up, they just weren't in my line of sight. We had a local breakfast place called The Southern Skillet that was a million times yummier in every way - they had lunch and dinner too - and every bite was amazing. Their bread - biscuits, rolls, cornbread - were all breathtaking. They made a coconut creme pie that would make you weep. Their food food - you know, meat loaf, chicken, etc - was just phenomenal. And it's where the locals would go and it was just great. They went out of business just over a year ago - I still miss them.

And given a choice, I'd still rather eat there than just about anywhere.

But, in addition to having a better option, we just didn't have any Barrels anywhere near us. If we wanted a chain breakfast, Waffle House was the obvious choice.

Even after that inaugural trip to Cracker Barrel, I was hardly a regular. In fact, it wasn't til I moved to Nashville that I started hitting it up from time to time.

Here's what I love - and I use the word love very generically here - about the Barrel:

- The food is generally good and always the same. The biscuits at Exit 211A are going to be the same as the biscuits at Exit 79.

- It's super cheesy, but I like the general store. I don't ever buy anything, but there's actually a scarf there that I wanted tonight. I may have to go back. They also carry Avanti Press greeting cards, which are awesome.

- I have an affinity for being able to order breakfast any time. One of my favorite things in the world is to go out for breakfast, but Matt doesn't get into that as much as I do. I also love having breakfast for dinner, which isn't Matt's thing either. So Cracker Barrel lets me get my bacon on at any time of day. And for that, I am grateful.

- The service is polite but detached. The servers are always friendly, and never too familiar.

- The price is reasonable. I mean, sometimes, I have to ala carte a little to get what I want - because ideally, I want a biscuit, some bacon, hashbrown casserole and maybe some gravy. I never want eggs. Because as much as I love breakfast, really, the only eggs I ever seek out are the cheesy eggs from Waffle House.

- I'm always younger, thinner and prettier than the average patron. Can I say that about Cabana? No, not on a good day. But I could easily win a pageant at Cracker Barrel.

It's not all good though - for the things I love about Cracker Barrel, there are just as many things I hate:

- Word is that it's a racist and homophobic company. Given that, should I really be giving them my money? No, I shouldn't.

- Screaming babies. Cracker Barrel has more screaming babies per capita than any restaurant ever. And much like the aforementioned consistency - every single location is chock-full of screaming babies, which stresses me out.

- The food isn't that good for you. I mean, they do post their nutritional info, and if I want to stick to Weight Watchers there, I can. But remember when I mentioned I was one of their thinner patrons... I think I'm telling you there's a correlation.

- Elderly people with respiratory issues. There's nothing like being seated next to someone who is recovering from double pneumonia and sounds like he's about to bring up a lung to squelch even the breakfast lovingest of appetites.

- It's a chain. And shouldn't I be giving my money to local businesses? Cracker Barrel is the Wal-Mart of restaurants. I also need to break the Wal-Mart habit.

- How sanitary is it to have all that crap up on the walls? Where did that axe come from, and was it used to slaughter something? And has it been sterilized? Also, that creepy woman in the photograph above my table seems to be watching me eat my gravy. Please make her stop.

- Their cash-out system. There is nobody monitoring my egress. I could dine and dash and I bet I'd get away with it. I have this thought every single time I eat at a Cracker Barrel, and I don't like what that says about my lax moral code.

- The candy. One of the things I like about the real world is my relative inability to purchase Fruit Stripe gum and Bit O Honeys. These are both available here. And for all the cute things they have for sale, there's some tacky crap there too. Lots of John Deere stuff. Not sold ironically, either.

Bottom line... I need to break my Cracker Barrel habit.

And replace it with...

Long walks on the beach, or something meaningful.

Because no biscuits are worth selling your soul or your cardiac health for.

Like a one-man band of gypsies...

2012-01-18T19:51:00.001-06:00

So I'm here in Columbia, SC. And I'm waiting for Modern Family to come on, and I ate too much at a meat and three called Lizard's Thicket.

The food was solid - I mean that in every sense. I ate too much, but damn it was good.

Meanwhile, I'm watching 9 to 5 - possibly the greatest film about women in the workplace...ever. It's outdated, but it marked the first time I'd ever heard the phrase "piss off", and I still love it. Right now, Jane Fonda is hunting down Dabney Coleman.

Face it ladies, we're in a pink collar ghetto.

Yep, love it.

This time next week, I'll be landing in Seattle for a 2 day training class. As glad as I am to be doing well in my work, I get a little anxious about the training until I'm up in there doing it.

Now, in the meantime, my aforementioned acne problem has gotten worse - I am breaking out like a fifteen year old the morning of class pictures.

I ended up finding a Walgreens and buying a nice little concealer - it won't do much, but psychologically, maybe I'll feel better.

And this time tomorrow, I'll be home. And I can take the weekend and let my skin heal, do a little exercise, drink some water...

I need to detox from the rigors of visiting three southern state capitals in a single day - oh - and mad props to me - I sent my sweet nephew a nice postcard.

Aunt of The Year? No, probably not.

A true daily double

2012-01-17T13:47:00.002-06:00

I had to buy some acne cream today, and the guy at theregister was eyeballing me to see where the zits were – apparently, he didn’tknow that women of a certain age still get acne. Right here on the chin, kid – the Mount St.Helen sized bump… makes me wonder though – where would his eyes have wanderedif I’d come up there with a box of Monistat. Eyes up, Junior! Also, if you’reever in Germany and find yourself in need – their version of Monistat is calledKadefungin. Ask for it by name – or, dolike I did – scour your husband’s German dictionary and memorize a shortmonologue that either explains what you need or outlines the steps needed tobrew beer – they’re remarkably similar.

Bitten Sie um es Namentlich (ask for it by name)

I had yesterday off, thanks to Dr. King, and in true spiritof the day, I went shopping. At onestore, I’m browsing the sale rack, and out of nowhere, this kid, who I’m guessingto be 4 or 5, who is running around the store comes flying around the cornerand smacks right into my leg. HARD. And he falls flat on his ass. In my surprise, I let out a sharp, “Excuseme!” I look over and the kid is justlaying there. Not moving. After a few seconds he gets up and kind ofeyeballs me like I should be concerned that I got in his way and made him fallor something. Let me be clear, I didn’ttrip the kid – I didn’t even see him coming. He banged into me – I was stationary. And so, I wasn’t going to fawn over him forbeing an idiot. I never did see hismother, but he kept running around the store. So the next time a kid runs into me at full-force, I’m going to cry outin pain and make a complete jackass of myself. Scream and moan until the mother comes over and makes her precious angelbehave. Look, I don’t hate kids. No, really. I swear. I do hate shopping, andI hate being plowed into by people who have spatial awareness issues. I’m sure Dr. King would have been proud of mynon-violent reaction.

We went to my dermatologist yesterday – not for myaforementioned uber-pimple, but to check on Matt’s hives. Long story. Anyway, the dermato, Dr. P only met me three times: once to look at the bump on my head, once toremove it, and once to tell me it was cancer – and yet –she totally rememberedme. And she and Dr. S want to write a paper aboutmy case. I always knew I’d be famous.

I head to Columbia, SC for a training class tomorrow, so I’mgoing to weigh in a little early – as in, today. I think it will be good. I’ve been compliant this week, except for anincident involving an Angel Food Cake. Which, if you’re going to deviate, that’sa pretty safe binge.

I had to kind of throw a hissy on a process today atwork. Now, I don’t usually get beat upover details, but this one matters to me, and I’m not going to yield onit. I also sent in a summary of someinformation I received for a focus group and I’m pretty sure that’s going toraise some eyebrows too. I don’t care.

I did two classes at the Y yesterday, also in honor of Dr.King. Because I have a dream… ofeventually wearing a size 12. Pointbeing, I am so sore from Dance Blast in the morning and Zumba in theevening. I can move, but it isn’tpretty.

This guy on Jeopardy last night answered a question(incorrectly). Turns out Alex Trebekis a huge perv, because you can hear himchuckle…

A donkey punch is when you’re having sex, and at the momentof climax, you punch the person in the back of the head so s/he clenches andmake things tighter, which increasesyour pleasure. Ah, Trebek, you’re a bad boy!

And, that’s all.

I want.

2012-01-15T16:25:00.001-06:00

I've been hardcore dieting this week and the results are so far, so good. But the problem is - with this cold weather, I'm craving rich, hearty food. Stews, casseroles, bread, gravy.

And since none of these are entirely Weight Watchery, I'm getting creative.

I made myself some butternut squash soup with curry for lunch, and for dinner, we're having a stew I found in the WW Magazine - involving parsnips, sweet potatoes and dried fruit. I don't know - I would love to bake a macaroni and cheese casserole the size of a double bed, crawl inside and eat till I'm full. Then pass out in the warm pasta until I woke up hungry again.

I'm easy.

And after that, I'd be cheesy, greasy, and probably queasy.

Beyond that, it's been a weekend of rest. And that's putting it mildly. Sloth would be more accurate. I bought myself a new MP3 player, and I loaded a ton of music on it - that would be the most industrious act I've perpetrated.

I did go by the Home Depot today to pick up paint samples. We are contemplating a change of color in the kitchen - I've also been thinking about a fresh coat in our mud/laundry room, and I've harbored a few fantasies about turning our upstairs bathroom pink. Pale, sweet, fresh pink. Nothing too Pepto or gaudy.

I also want to lay down linoleum tile in the upstairs bathroom. Stick on tiles, nothing too ambitious.

And since I was dreaming, I might as well look at the countertops, Corian, Granite? Laminate? Never again.

So, it's all about I want, I want, I want.

Meanwhile, Matt and I are watching The Marx Brothers.

And that's how you kill a Sunday.

ae

Brought to you by the letter M

2012-01-14T08:39:00.000-06:00

I saw this bumper sticker on the way into work one morning this week that said, "Quit Your Meanness". It was paired with a few others similar in tone - random acts of kindness, etc.

But it kind of spoke to me. I've realized recently, in the name of humor, in the name of ingratiating myself to people, I may have gone a little mean. Catty. Bitchy, even. No, really- it's true.

And yes, it was kind of funny to call that new blonde 40-something employee Long In The Tooth Barbie, but she's nice. She wants to succeed. Why did I feel compelled to put her down? I mean, obviously, I didn't say it to her face - I said it to three people who will never repeat it to her (we hope). But that doesn't make it ok.

Now, you may wonder why I'm suddenly concerned. Well, it's part of my genetic predisposition. My great grandmother, who I'll simply identify as MFP was a known bitch. Her husband left her because she was such a cold and unkind woman. I believe it's documented in the Library of Congress.

Her daughter, my grandmother MPB, was a bitch. I loved her, yes, but she was mean. She was mean as hell to my father. I have first hand accounts. She was mean to me. She was mean to my mother and my sister. She was mean to strangers and friends. When she died, one of her friends came to my parents house to bring a pie, and dissolved into tears sobbing, "She was such a bitch!"

Her daughter, MBA, is my aunt. She has a little meanness to her. She did something once at a Christmas party to set my father off, and he spent the night calling her, somewhat jokingly, "Mmmmeeeeean Bitch". Believe it or not, it was one of the better parties we've had.

There are a few things in my favor. The gene seems to weaken as it moves down the lineage. I am not a direct female descendant - in that I am not MBA's daughter - I am her niece. Is my father a carrier? He has some mean tendencies, but in his case, it doesn't seem calculated, merely absent-minded or maybe a little socially awkward.

Also, there's the apparent saving grace that my name doesn't start with an M. In fact, there are no Ms in any of my names or aliases. Score!

But the point is, I need to be aware. I need to be mindful of what I say, and work to get my laughs and my warm fuzzies more honestly.

And apparently, once I have my meanness under control, I need to work on this:

Well, that's a good question.

2012-01-11T21:35:00.001-06:00

I walked into Zumba the other night, and from a distance, my friend Susannah appeared to have dyed her blonde hair blue.

On closer inspection, she was wearing a headband and I need glasses.

I told her what I thought I'd seen, and we started talking about hair (she cut hers for Locks of Love last month) and I mentioned I wanted to make a change, but had no idea where to start.

She asked one of the best questions I've ever been asked;

"Well, what intrigues you?"

And isn't that a nice way to look at it?

Well, in terms of style, lots of things intrigue me.

- Brazilian blowouts

- Eyebrow threading

- Bikini Waxes (I don't want to look 8, but I'd love to neaten it up a bit)

- Nose piercing (a tiny little stud)

- Covering my gray with lowlights - a nice chestnut or mahogany

- I'd like to decide whether I look better in flowy soft clothes or something more structured. Ideally, I'd like to find a way to mix soft and structured so that I have what you might call a "look".

- Accessorizing

- Advanced eye makeup techniques

- Finding better shoes

- Teeth whitening

I have issues.

ae

I still ain't had no sleep.

2012-01-10T20:48:00.000-06:00

So, as I think you know, I'm a huge Arlo Guthrie fan. Ok, he's no Woody, but how hard would it be to live in that shadow?

I had the distinct joy of seeing him last month at The Ryman, and it was AWESOME, and I loved it.

He sang two of my favorite of his songs - no, not Ring Around The Rosie Rag (which is about smoking dope), and not Alice's Restaurant.

Dig deeper, friends.

He did Highway in the Wind, which, I'd consider learning to play guitar so I could whip it out on camping trips and impress the shit out of people with my mad vocals.

I actually have a decent voice, a second alto with decent pitch, timbre and whatnot. But living in Nashville, I'd be hard-pressed to call myself a singer. Anyway, here's Highway in the Wind:

But that's not what I came to tell you about.

He also pulled out this gem, which I heard for the first time back in college when Arlo played it at the 40 Watt, and I fell in love. To the point of using it in a writing class to adapt into a scene. Which was terrible. Really bad. Actually, it was OK - but the teacher, Ralph, hated it - he didn't like a lot of my choices. That class was about making bad choices, really. It should have been Terrible Decisions 201H (Honors). But that's again, not what I came to tell you about.

Here is, in honor of it being the Tenth of January, Arlo Guthrie's In My Darkest Hour:

Because this song is just beautiful. And OK, Bob Dylan was the clear winner of Iron Chef: Battle Folk Music, but he's kind of a dick. Whereas, Guthrie fils is a nice guy. I have his autograph. A special friend got it for me (see also, Terrible Decisions 201H).

Thankfully, I was able to dissect the memories of that class/that year from this song. No, really.

Gym, Tan, Laundry - hold the Tan.

2012-01-08T18:15:00.001-06:00

There's not a whole lot I can say about the first week of the year, except that it's coming to an end. We kind of slept away our New Years Day, and the day after, I had lunch with my friends Natae and James. I am grateful for my friends because they make life more fun, and we all need more fun, don't we?

I returned to work Tuesday and wrestled my Inbox into submission.

Wednesday and Thursday were spent in St. Louis. I didn't get to go to the Arch, but I got closer than last time:

Some day, I'll get there. And for some reason, I'm craving steak.

I ate like a maniac while we were there - to wit;

I like cake, for heaven's sake.

Yes, that's a slab of coconut cake and it was so tasty.

My jeans fit, but I have got to get back in the saddle.

Anyway, we met with our customer, we got back on the plane and came on home. Friday was more getting things in order - both at work, then at home. Matt's friend Chris came and visited this weekend.

For the most part, we chilled, and that was perfectly fine with me. The first level of the house is in good shape. The attic is reminiscent of an episode of Hoarders, but I'll manage that sooner rather than later.

Chris left a few minutes ago, I'm doing laundry, and we have some crock-pot Chicken Tikka Masala bubbling away to be eaten at our convenience.

And that's the first week of 2012 in review. I mean, slow, kind of not much worth mentioning - but so far, so good.

Oh, and I guess - I should mention that Lola turned 13 this week. Estimated, of course.

Since she was believed to be 6 weeks old when my parents found her on 2/13/1999, we can extrapolate and estimate her birthday to be 1/1/1999. Why not? Alternately, she could share a birthday with Dad, or she could have been a true Christmas puppy. Point being, she is now 13.

I'm too young to have a teenaged dog. Sob!

Lola acts too young to be 13. I took her to PetSmart for a nail trim Saturday, then since we were in the neighborhood, I tried out Dizzy's Dog Wash - as it turns out, I prefer Wags and Whiskers in East Nashville, but Dizzy's is waaaaay more convenient, so guess where we'll go back...

Anyway - when she's all clean and fancy, she feels so good and acts far younger than she is. If only it worked that way for me. I mean, I do stand taller after a good pedicure or haircut.

Spa - the universal fountain of youth.

I'm going to check on my Masala now...

Tell me no lies...

2012-01-03T15:54:00.001-06:00

I would be a terrible advice columnist.

Not that it’s ever going to come up – but here are threesample questions and how I’d answer them:

From Slate.com's Dear Prudence

Dear Prudence: I dread the approachingholiday meals with my family, as they always include disparaging remarks aboutmy choice to be vegan. They range from snarky ("I'd love to see the animalyou're doing this for") to just silly ("If God wanted you to eat soy,then why did he make cows?"). I am 29 years old and don't need my parentstelling me what to eat. Adding to my frustration is the fact that my parentsare so unhealthy. Both are obese, never exercise, and don't eat any vegetables.My mother has diabetes. They have made no effort to change their eating habitsor lose weight, despite warnings from their doctors. I am healthy. When metwith criticism from my family, I have tried explaining my reasons for beingvegan, but they just roll their eyes or laugh. I've cooked delicious food forthem, but they turn up their noses at it. Prudie, I need a simple, blunt remarkthat will put an end to this. What do you suggest?

Dear Black Sheep:

Parents can be a pain in the ass, and yes – they’re obese,but that’s not your business to judge any more that than they should judge yourdesire to deprave yourself of everything that tastes good. Vegans are notoriously annoying to dealwith. I mean – it’s a pain in the ass tohave to deal with anyone who has special food needs. At least you’re not doing gluten free- so you can eat some dinner rolls with yourtofurkey and just be glad your parents haven’t disowned you for not shavingyour armpits. Also, I’m told vegans haveterrible breath – so you know – load up on Listerine before the holidays. As for a pithy response? Try, some variation of “… and thecruelty-free horse you rode in on”.

From the Nationally Syndicated Dear Abby

DEAR ABBY: I have a problem that happens once a year -- my birthdayat work. There's a huge potluck with cake, banners, gifts and a card that hasbeen circulating around the office for a week. I cringe at the attention.Everyone means well, but these celebrations are pure torture for me. I'm a7-year-old all over again, trying my best to keep the anxiety and waterworks incheck.

It goes back to my childhood. Growing up,we were very poor, and my parents made it clear that sacrifices had been madefor my "big day," which always ended up with me guilt-ridden and intears.

As an adult, I celebrate my birthday withmy husband and son. We keep it low-key and I'm surrounded by the unconditionallove I craved as a child.

I have tried bowing out and asked thatgifts be made to charity instead, but I am told, "Oh, come on! We allhave to go through this." I went so far as to confide to the partyplanners why I'm so uncomfortable. To my horror, a few of them begancomplaining about how hard they worked pulling everything together or how latethey stayed up baking the cake, etc. It was like hearing my parents all overagain.

Am I being too sensitive? I'd appreciateyour opinion. -- SPARE ME IN MICHIGAN

Dear Michigander:

You do realize that the party has very little to do with you, right? Your colleagues want to have a party, andconveniently, you happen to have a birthday. Suck it up, get some therapy to get over your issues and eat cake like abig girl. Jeez. Freak.

And finally, from Sex Questions Q&A with Dr. Hilda (Redbook Magazine)

Dear Hilda:My partner loves to masturbate with women's magazines — and I love to watch. Isthis okay?

DearPornlover’s Partner: Well, I’d questionwhat exactly you mean by women’s magazines. If you’re telling me he’s spanking it to Menopause Monthly or (godforbid) Martha Stewart Living, I’d say you have a problem – and by that I’m notjust talking about the pages sticking together. Look, if you’re both enjoying it, it’s not wrong. Period. Did you really have to ask this? If so, your bigger question is how can you avoid having kids as mentallybackwards as yourself. And the answer tothat is, you can’t. Get some good birthcontrol. There’s nothing wrong with agood sterilization procedure. You’rewelcome.

And that's why I shouldn't be allowed to advise people on a widespread basis.

Happy Gnu Year

2012-01-01T18:21:00.001-06:00

So, I have to say, so far, 2012 has been pretty laid back.

I actually slept a lot of the day away, and more is the pity - this would have been an ideal day for kicking it old school at a brunch with a lot of Bloody Marys.

That said, the night that preceded the first day of the new year was epic.

I somehow managed to get 17 other people, some of whom I'd never met, to join me in four hours of bowling at one of the local lanes.

Here's some photos from our escapade:

Not the best picture ever, but it's a start!

Artsy Photo of Noise Makers

Note my strike. I made 2, total.

Jim, his ball, and a new beard.

And doesn't my new makeup look nice?

Two of my favorite peeps.

Some boys and their balls.

Pretty sure we all saw this shot coming...

I did garner an invitation from this to go clubbing/dancing with some of the guys. I also ended up with a sore knuckle. But mostly, I ended up with a lot of happy memories of a fun NYE.

Welcome, new year.

That's how I roll...

2011-12-31T08:41:00.002-06:00

So, yesterday was payday, and we got our bonuses tacked on unexpectedly. I wasn't too bummed, let's be honest.

I decided to end my year with a little sussy to say to myself, "Nice work, self!".

So I hit up the Clinique counter at the local Macy's and splurged on two lipsticks. And because I'm worth it, I had the oh, so pregnant rep help me pick out two colors.

I decided my ~~problem~~ challenge with makeup is that the dark bold lip colors weren't doing me any favors. I was looking a little:

Do NOT fuck with Joan Crawford, Mercedes McCameron.

I affectionately call this look Clown Mouth. Matt would be so proud that I'm referencing a movie he showed me earlier this year. But let's be honest - I don't need to use La Joan as my style guru.

So, I recognized the problem and sought a solution.

What I ended up with is two shades I'm kind of stoked about.

Meet Bamboo Pink:

And introducing Heather Moon:

These are lighter, softer shades that make me look a little lighter and softer. Because as much as I love and have a flair for the dramatic, I have a life that requires a more natural look.

It's like I told the lady at Clinique yesterday - I just want to look like the best, pulled-together version of me as possible.

Now if I could get my nappy head of hair to toe the line, I'd be cooking with gas.

And another thing...I'm thinking of using my birthday spa gift card today for a little R and R with a side of TLC.

Hmm.

But first, breakfast.

And later, a pre-bowling nap. I am excited.

A postscript - how could I have forgotten?

2011-12-29T13:50:00.002-06:00

So, I forgot the main resolution I wanted to cast out to the universe.

I want to start wearing makeup.

Not every day and not tons of it. I don't want to be this girl:

This is what comes up of you Google "hot mess".

But I want to be the best, tidiest version of myself. I mean, a little eye makeup, little lipstick. Maybe eventually I'll graduate to some foundation.

But I have to be careful or:

Although, looking that orange would have to make my teeth look whiter.

Still - my friend Natae and I got our eyes done at the Chanel counter at Nordstrom, and it was amazing:

Her, on the right - that's who I want to look like.

Wish me luck!

Promises, promises

2011-12-29T10:44:00.000-06:00

I stand, resolute.

So, it’s that time of year, where I make resolutions and,more to the point – let’s see what I promised in 2011 and how I did:

Feel free to cheat and refer back - I had to.

Not bad – I definitely did lose weight, and I’ll keep thatup in 2012. I didn’t cry, and the numberon the scale definitely starts with a 1. My next goal is that I want the second number to be a 6 or lower. These things take time.

I definitely steppedup the exercise, with the exception of that period where I was scalped andtherefore not cleared for Zumba/Yoga/Aqua Fit…next year, lots more activity!

I made some selfish decisions and they were great. I’ll definitely keep that up.

I did plenty of good reading – Tina Fey, Susannah Collins,Ernest Cline. All great.

I ate lunch out less at the first of the year, and then backslida little. We’ll work on that in 2012.

I certainly did more writing this year. I want to keep that up. It’s cheaper than therapy, and let’s face it –I have a unique voice.

So that brings me to 2012.

I want 2012 to be the year of fiscal fitness. I’m going to be paying off our new memoryfoam bed soon (totally worth it), and then I can start throwing money at my credit card and thelittle nitpicky bills that came up from the Pilomatrical Carcinoma Chronicles. I’m going to come up with a budget and stickto it. And while I’ll need some “things”– new clothes, the occasional Kindle download… I need to be happier with what Ihave.

I’ve also committed to getting the house in shape in2012. I want to purge our lives ofexcess crap. And that means selling,donating or trashing. And that’s theplan. I also want to do some maintenance on the place…Ineed to repair and paint the rails on the front porch and I’d love to paint theporch and shutters.

Note how fiscal responsibility and home repair are somewhat atodds with each other. Amazing.

And I guess that’s enough.

For now.

Let's see this time next year where it plays out.

ae

Stagflation

2011-12-28T16:15:00.003-06:00

So, I was taking a look back at the year - and what I came to is that I have stayed at the exact same weight as I was at back in June. I would call it a plateau, but I'll be honest - I've been non-compliant - I've cheated, I haven't exercised enough, I haven't tracked... but the fact is, I've basically maintained for six months.

And while that's not entirely bad, it's time to get back on track. I've made a decision.

I want to be down 50 pounds total by Valentine's Day.

It's a love letter to myself.

It's the least I can do.

Of course, it's easy to write that an hour before I leave for what promises to be a decent weigh in.

Ask me again the next time I'm jonesing cake. Which is constantly.

I need to get a fire in my belly.

And more vegetables.

And less sugar.

And more water.

And more exercise.

Easy.

Whew.

2011-12-27T17:19:00.001-06:00

One of the great/terrible things about my parents is that they're both amazing cooks. So, we had an off the chain weekend with them, culinarily and otherwise.

Dad made his potato salad (which involves bacon and green olives and it's just amazing). Mom made hot fudge sauce, and cookies. They had a low country boil Christmas day. And there were bagels and almond tart, and pimiento cheese.

Can you tell I'm hungry?

I didn't have breakfast until after Yoga today - then it was a few pieces of cheese and some fruit. Lunch was a Lean Cuisine. And now I'm waiting to go to dinner with Matt. We were supposed to have sushi together for lunch, but one of us dawdled and waited too long (his name rhymes with Schmatt). I am now waiting for Matt to take a fifteen minute nap, then get a quick shower, then get dressed and then FINALLY, I'll get my sushi.

As it turns out, that's been a late entry into the nice surprises of 2011. I never thought I particularly liked sushi, but then, the only stuff I'd ever had was from Publix or Whole Foods.

Several weeks ago, I went to a place called Bodeli with a colleague - they make the stuff right in front of you. And it was amazing. I couldn't believe it.

To make sure it wasn't a fluke, I took another colleague last week. Again. Amazing. And he was kind of new to sushi, too - and he loved it.

Now, I'm taking Matt - or, since I'm kind of broke, he's taking me. Which is fine. I love a good meal, and I've been doing most of the driving, so I'll take payment in California rolls. Or whatever.

One of the things I love about the place we are going is the layout. It's a big square bar with a conveyor belt, and you just pick things off the belt that you want to eat. I'm feeling a night of "all-you-can-eat" coming on, but you can also pay per plate - and the price is determined by the color on the plate rim.

Like this, but in a strip mall in the suburbs of Nashville.

So, that's pretty cool. It feels both modern AND Modern Times.

And with that, Matt has had 15 minutes. It's sushi time!!!

Low Impact Joylessness

2011-12-22T14:49:00.002-06:00

I had today off. Well, I took today off - and so I decided to get a little pre-Christmas workout in. And what to my wandering eyes did appear? An 8:30 AM Aqua Zumba class at Maryland Farms Y.

So I strapped into my suit, got in the car and drove down. To learn that Amy, the Aqua Zumba instructor had a sub. Lynn.

Lynn gave us water aerobics with music. Shitty music, like a disco remix of "Tomorrow" from the musical Annie. And a slowed down version of "Hit The Road, Jack". And what sounded like a cheap knock off of "Chariots of Fire" played on an even cheaper synthesizer.

It sucked. I may have gotten a little workout, but mostly, it was just pitiful.

Plus the Maryland Farms pool isn't as nice and sparkly as Green Hills, their locker rooms are kind of weird, and there was a creepy old dude lurking and watching us work out.

I was put off and put out.

I might have burned 200 calories. Maybe I earned one activity point for Weight Watchers. Let's not even talk about how badly that is going at the moment. Badly. Very.

And we're leaning hard into the curve that is the holidays.

More soon - for now, I have a date with my husband. And his new internist.

ae

Until they holler stop!

2011-12-20T14:35:00.003-06:00

I was a Girl Scout. Like practically every other girl in my neighborhood. It’s just what you did. I mean, we were in the ‘burbs, so 4-H wasn’tan option, and that’s long before soccer, which certainly wasn’t an option forme anyway – I had no skills of any athletic kind – I didn’t play softball – andEVERYONE played softball.

So, Scouting itwas. And I was terrible at it. Ok, I could sing songs and eat snacks withthe best of them, but that was about my limit. I wasn’t much into the crafts because they never had lefty scissors, somy objets d’art looked more like objets de merde. I remember being frustrated to tears,repeatedly.

The uniforms were hideous. This would have been early 80s, which were sartorially problematic intheir own right. I wanted the TangerineKnit shirt to be different. I thenrealized, not for the last time in my life that although I thought I wanted tobe different, I really just needed to blend the hell in. The polyester in “cocoa” was hideous, and hot.

Nice tunics there, bitches!

Our leader was an overly stern woman who once got pissy whenwe mentioned ditching the uniforms. Inotice now that she didn’t wear the Adult Uniform. I should track her down and mention that toher. She got pissy a lot, but she alsotaught me to add black pepper and dill weed to tuna salad, so she had at leastone redeeming quality.

I hated camping. Infact, my body reacted violently to all the wholesome outdoorsy-ness, becausewithin eight hours of arriving to Sludgy Meadows or Camp Beaverwood, I’d have araging sore throat, upper respiratory mayhem and a body ache. Every. Single. Time.

Cookie sales were brutal. Since every little girl in my elementary school was a scout, ourcustomer base was tapped out early. Iwas not terribly aggressive, either. Itpaved the way for a lifetime of not wanting to go into sales. I don’t care how lucrative it could be, it’snot my bag of cookies. Honestly, I didn’twant to sell the cookies, I wanted to eat them.

Which brings us to the raison d’etre of scouts everywhere: badges. I couldn’t tell you what badges I earned. I actually have them in a box – my motherfound them and gave them to me. Now, intheory – they could be my sister’s -that’s how memorable the badge earningprocess was. The problem is that badgeswhere always for things like “Nature Appreciation ” and “Fun with Textiles” and“Your Friend, The Encyclopedia”.

There is not, to my best knowledge, a merit badge that youget for memorizing every line of dialogue from the movie Airplane, or one forconsistently picking out the best item on any menu, or one for reading everybook in the “All of a Kind Family” series thereby gaining a strong understandingof a Jewish family living in 1910 NYC and many minor Jewish holidays. I’ve yet to receive my WTBS badge, forwatching hours and hours of Channel 17’s afternoon programming.

Anyway, it wasn’t totally pointless. It taught me grace under pressure, and thattangerine is not my color, and I learned that adults aren’t always nice, and thatneither are kids.

It was good prep for being in a sorority, it taught me toget along with people who aren’t my BFFs, and it was a serious rite ofpassage. I loved it, I hated it. But it’s a part of me.

I should sew a few badges on my bag for fun.

Silver and Gold

2011-12-16T14:32:00.001-06:00

I love my friends. I think I may be the luckiest dame in the universe.

I managed to get everyone in this picture to pay money to paint and hang out.

And eat, and drink and be merry.

In short, it was AWESOME.

I love us.

ae

In Alabama, the Tuscaloosa

2011-12-13T19:15:00.000-06:00

This is Margaret Dumont:

This is me, circa September 2010 looking vaguely Dumont-y:

Here's me circa January 2011 looking decidedly Dumont-ier:

Of course, the fact that it was a Roaring 20s themed party kind of helps sell it.

Heres me as a young, urban Margaret Dumont:

Point is, I think I want to play Margaret Dumont in her bio-pic.

Why not?

Or, if they're planning a bio-pic about the Marx Brothers...

Because let's face it - who could they cast that would sell it any better?

Uh, no.

Who is Margaret Dumont? Here:

http://bit.ly/rEm17T

Call me, Hollywood.

Party like a rockstar, only quieter and with finger foods.

2011-12-11T19:05:00.001-06:00

So I went to the family Christmas party last night. Matt was under the weather, so I went solo. I think it says a lot about my husband's family that I would go to their party without him. They're awesome.

Matt's Aunt Flora won a stripper pole as a door prize.

I ended up with a pair of breast-shaped stress balls. Which, beats massaging my own mammaries to relieve anxiety - not that I have been, but still.

And I ate a ton of fatty amazing hors d'oeuvres. And I didn't drink.

I am home now, and prepping for my party I'm throwing with my friends. That one has me excited.

Honestly, I've decided what I'd really like to do for my Christmas present is throw a party for New Years.

I don't think it will pan out, but that's the truth. I don't need any "thing" really - except to be surrounded by people I love, laughing.

So, you know buy-in and a Kroger card for snacks.

I found this the other day, and it's how I'm feeling:

Now, to make some pumpkin dip.

Stretch Armstrong

2011-12-11T08:29:00.001-06:00

It's the holiday season, and along with that comes the feeling that I'm doing too many things and none of them well.

I'm up way too early, having driven home from Dalton, GA late last night after gathering with the in-laws.

I am feeling guilty for not spending the night with them. It's 8:30 AM and I should be doing housework.

We have dishes to wash, dog hair to sweep, laundry, laundry and more laundry to wrangle.

And no food in the house, and I don't want to do any of that.

I want to go to Michael's and buy crafty things for our party on Thursday.

But that really needs to wait until payday.

Along with the remainder of Christmas shopping.

Matt isn't feeling well - he didn't even make the party.

I just feel overwhelmed.

Or overtired.

But, the dog hair ain't gonna sweep itself.

So, I'm out.

Happy Sunday!

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!

2011-12-06T20:54:00.001-06:00

So there have been some changes.

My company got acquired today by Underwriters Laboratories - UL - you know, the people who stamp every plug and lightbulb with their mark? Them.

Anyway - I've been hearing a buzz about it for about a month, and the buzz got really loud about 2 weeks ago.

And today, it happened.

So far, the only thing it means is we'll get better benefits, a new logo and a new corporate boss. No layoffs are planned, and as far as I know, they're not going to abuse us with money. Does that ever happen?

It's not the first acquisition I've stumbled through, and it may not be the last.

But apparently, it had me more stressed out than I realized. After the announcement today, every muscle in my body relaxed, and I was sore like I'd gone to some sadistic class like the ones Missy teaches at the Y.

Now, I wait to see what happens next. What I'd like to happen is a big check with my name on it and a note in the memo line saying "We think you're awesome and know you could use a little cash infusion". It's kind of like post-holiday let down, only it's too early for it.

In other less corporate news, we're going to my husband's family this weekend for a big bad Christmas throwdown. I could not be gladder - they're always a hoot.

My friends and I are throwing a huge shindig next week at one of those drink wine and paint a picture places. I am kind of excited.

Who are we kidding? I'm stoked. At the moment, that party is my raison d'etre.

I need to start planning.

But for now, I'm going to wind down and maybe try to get some sleep.

I'm probably going to take a little Chlor-Trimeton to get me there.

It's like Calgon, only with drugs in it.

ae

You go, girl!

2011-12-03T21:43:00.001-06:00

What a great, fun day!

Well, I woke up way too early. It was 6:30, to be exact. But that put me in a good place to head to Water Aerobics for the first time in far too long.

It was good though - good workout, the class didn't drag, and I feel better.

After the class, I stopped at the brand-spanking new Container Store. AWESOME. It was so neat, and the people were so friendly.

I got a few boxes for Christmas presents, I got some cute wrapping paper, and I came home. We had a nice breakfast together and I did some work around the house.

Around 11, I got the call from my friend Jim, checking to see if I was still in for a trip to The Porter Flea Market - a one day local Art Market in East Nashville.

I said I was, and he planned to pick me up at 1PM. So I went to Costco and grabbed our Christmas cards. They're OK. I had hoped to put together something either funny or unique, but time keeps on slipping away.

After a whirlwind trip to Costco and a quick stop at Publix, I came home. Matt and I had a quick sushi lunch (hence, the Publix run) and I met up with Jim.

We got to the Market, and it was packed. Really cool, though - we saw Jim's friends Brian and Randy there. I guess you could argue they're my friends, too - though I met them through Jim. Aaanyway... I could have spent some serious scratch there, but ultimately, I just picked up a few little things.

I found a great birthday present for Dad. It's this:

Just add plant, and stir.

It's a terrarium kit, and all that's left is to buy a small plant to put in there for him. I think it's the coolest thing ever. And I would know.

For myself, I got a little something:

Not these exact earrings, but the same vendor. I got one pair that are bicycles and the other is some little bunnies. They amuse me a great deal.

After we shopped, well - I shopped - Jim patiently watched me shop - we went to the food trucks outside. Jim had this gorgeous looking Mac and Cheese concoction, I had a hot chocolate with a chocolate/hot chili marshmallow, courtesy of the Bang Candy Company.

I feel like the most interesting person sometimes.

After we snacked, Jim brought me home and Matt and I watched LSU crush UGA in the SEC championship. The good news, such as it is, is that Vanderbilt gets a bowl game (albeit local) and UGA will get a pretty good one. And that just about every SEC team but Tennessee gets to play in a bowl. Love it.

We had some dinner, I worked on Christmas cards, and tomorrow, I get to spend an evening with this guy:

I don't want a pickle, I just want to ride on my motorcycle.

It's been...way too many years since I've seen Arlo in concert. He's at the Mother Church - The Ryman - tomorrow night, and I'm going with my friend, Meg. She's coming to town for work, but really, to come to brass tacks, she's coming for the show.

Since Guns and Roses is also playing downtown tomorrow night, I need to make plans for somewhere to have dinner.

And then, it's back to work.

And even that promises to be pretty good.

Awwwkward!

2011-12-02T08:14:00.001-06:00

The beauty of Facebook is that it allows you to stalk peoplefrom your past. The crime of Facebook isthat it allows people from your past to stalk you.

And we’re here to talk about that latter scenario.

Back in college, for a brief time, I dated a guy we’ll call“Leroy” – because, it’s my blog and I can.

Anyway… I met Leroyin Elementary School. We went todifferent schools but were both enrolled in a once-a-week enrichment program ata magnet school. I decided that amongthese people, I wanted to be known as “Allie” because it was friendlier thanthe longer, stodgier Allison. It didn’ttake. Except with Leroy. I kind of think we “liked” each other – andhe was nice, and geeky and funny. Andonce a week, I’d get to hang out and geek along with him.

This was our 5^th grade year, and at the end ofit, he gave me his phone number. Ididn’t know what I should have done with it, but it was a nice gesture. I never would have called him, it wasn’tdone.

It’s possible I ran into him in High School a time or two –again - different schools- and in fact, rival schools. I seem to remember seeing him at a footballgame once. That’s about it.

And then came college. We were both at UGA. Now, I don’tremember how he found me. He may haveseen a letter I wrote to the school paper, or he may have seen me oncampus. But he got my number, and talkedwith my roommate who confirmed that I was the Allie of his youth.

From there, we met up one night on campus and talked forhours. We caught up and made plans to see each other again over Spring Break,that following week.

Now, for those of you not intimately familiar with my saddating history, this was my sophomore year, after I’d had my heart stomped by anothergeek from a different rival high school. So I was glad to get back in the game. My mother was glad, too. Iremember with chagrin, we went clothes shopping so I’d have nice things to wearon dates. Plural. She had hope for me.

Our date took us to a carnival where we rode a ferris wheel–and that’s the sum and total of what I remember, except that I wore a pair ofshoes Mom and I bought on our spree. They were Keds that were made out of a burlap looking fabric. Yeah, it’s the little things.

When we got back to school, he invited me to hisapartment. We were going to watch amovie.

Now, given that I have never been saddled with a lot ofreligious guilt, I thought we were going to have a sleepover. That was not a correct assumption. We definitely made out, we did not watch themovie – and I used to remember which movie it was and cringe whenever it cameup in conversation – but I hinted around about staying over and got thebrush. He had some marching bandobligation early in the morning.

I had this bad habit of falling for guys who were reallyuncomfortable with the idea of sex.

Anyway, a few days later, he calls and explains thatbasically, he’s not that into me. Or,that he’s not ready to be that involved. Or, I don’t know, that I’m awhore and it makes him feel icky.

I don’t remember the actual reason he gave, but ultimately,I had come on too strong and freaked him out.

And that was that. Ididn’t see him again. I had a pair ofKeds and nowhere to take them. I couldn’texactly explain to my mother why we weren’t seeing each other.

Now, Leroy had one lasting legacy. He had recently lost his father and wasseeing a therapist in the counseling center. I didn’t know we even had a counseling center. He told me where it was, and I ended upgetting linked up with Diana, my therapist for the remainder of my collegecareer. She was the best free shrink Iever had.

Cut to this week.

I got a friend request from Leroy.

So as not to appear desperate, or weird, I waited awhile,relived the whole squicky incident, then accepted.

Later that night, I got a message from him that read, inpart:

“The last time wecommunicated wasn't positive - and I want to apologize for that. It was a veryemotionally charged time in my life, and I should have handled it much better.”

So I replied that it was water under the bridge and I hadn’tgiven it a second thought. Even though Itotally had.

So the question is – why now? Well, here’s how I think it went down. A friend of mine from college, who we’ll callKitty, made a post on FB Monday, and I made a HILARIOUS comment on it.

And as it turns out, Kitty’s had a roommate in college,Lorraine, who married Leroy.

So I bet Lorraine is reading Kitty’s post and show’s Leroymy comment. And he says, “Oh, I knowher, that’s Allie!”

And I speculate this because he mentions Kitty and Lorrainewhen he sends the message about his negative communication.

And here’s where it gets a little weirder.

Guess where Leroy lives?

If you guessed Nashville, you win. He also commented that it was funny we endedup in the same city.

So, I got to relive all that awkward all over again.

It doesn’t seem likely that we’ll run into each other. He’s married, has kids – works at Vanderbilt,goes to church.

Whew, dodged a bullet on that one! Now, as my colleague Jim would tell you, while I'm thinking that, he's looking at pictures of me and thinking, "She looks like a freaky wild woman. I'd like to get some of that strange."

I doubt it, but his spin definitely makes me feel less awkward.

For the record, though, Leroy - I am a freaky wild woman, and my husband appreciates me for it.

Yeah, you may not want to read this.

2011-11-30T21:47:00.001-06:00

Warning - if your 8th Grade health class squicked you out, you may not want to read this. No hard feelings.

Still with me? OK. You can still bail at any time.

Given my advanced age and for other reasons too convoluted to go into, I went off the birth control pill earlier this year. I'm actually tempted to go back on it - but the reason I mention this is that with the pill, I never had to count days on a calendar or track my period or anything - a little plastic packet did the work for me. God, I loved it. Plus, the periods you have on the pill are just nothing - a little blip on the radar. Without chemical intervention, it's a whole different story.

Now, I'm back to where I was in middle school and high school, counting to twenty-eight every month, marking my calendar, gutting it out for the full five icky days instead of two easy days of "eh". And that is sooooo not my style. The good news is, I am like clockwork, friends. I would make an OB-GYN do backflips. So thankfully, there's not a lot of surprises, except that I have no short term memory and I'm inexplicably surprised monthly. Which this month, meant yesterday (look, I warned you). Surprise!!! But not really.

So I was contemplating all of this on my ride home from work tonight, and it occurred to me that I have been having periods for exactly 25 years.

Aaaand.... here's where you close your browser.

Or if you're still with me - I got my first period on December 1, 1986.

Twenty-five years ago tomorrow.

That means I've had roughly 300 periods. And that is really just kind of insane.

I have no idea where I was going with this.

But really, 300 of anything... that's impressive, no?

I mean, I could regale you with the stories of one awkward time in 6th Grade when I had to tie a jacket around my waist for part of the school day, or about the time in college after I moved into the sorority house and my cycle shifted mid-cycle into synch with EVERY OTHER PERSON IN THE HOUSE. Now, that's fucked up. Seriously. We always joked about flying a skull and crossbones flag out front one week out of the month.

I could tell you about the SexEd class in middle school where the girls all kept pressing the teacher on where the menstrual fluid *came from*. We understood it was uterine lining, but how did it build up, and from WHERE? I'm not sure I understand even today. But it freaked us out.

I could tell you about the time in High School when the dozen terrified women in my AP English class who had just read The Bell Jar were trying to figure out why Esther's friend started bleeding uncontrollably after having sex.

Because, you really can't talk about menarche without bringing sex into the equation. Well, I mean, you can - but I've gotten this far.

But I'm not Eve Ensler. This is not The Vagina Monologues, and to be fair, you know way more about me than you ever bargained for.

Oh, but there's plenty more where that came from.

This is totally going into my one-woman show.

Overlooking?

2011-11-29T22:13:00.001-06:00

So, I firmly believe that we all have super powers - we just have to be willing to understand that for the most part, they're not really cool or useful. I can't see through steel beams, or leap tall buildings in a single bound. I don't have x-ray vision, and I never got bitten by a radioactive spider, to my knowledge.

Now, I've said before that if I could pick my super power, I'd be omnilingual. But the League of Awesome has never sent me a survey allowing me to check a box, send a donation and be done with it.

So, I'm going to take the super power I have and use it.

Like I said, we all have them - they're just not what you'd call... all that practical.

Mine is that I can find four-leaf clovers like a woman possessed.

Yeah, I know - you're green with envy. Clover green. Who wouldn't be?

I don't know how I find them - I think I have what, since I'm in a whimsical mood, we're going to call "four-sight" - that allows me to scan a patch of clover and pick out the ones that don't belong.

Last week, in a patch near our office, I found three. And a five-leafer, too. Now, I can't say it's made me lucky. It hasn't.

I need to channel my four-sight into something bigger and more badass.

Like - cracking codes, or panning for gold, or mating socks.

If you're omnilingual and want to trade, call me. I'll throw in a five-leafer and some pepper jelly.

ae

The Pipe Man Cometh... and Goeth.

2011-11-28T17:02:00.001-06:00

So, thankfully, the plumber came, saw, conquered and left. And the sink now drains.

I'd love to give him a few hours to work on my bathroom sink, but it drains. It's just slow.

Anyway - he was done by 9:30, but since I took a day off, that left me with some serious time on my hands.

So here's what I did.

- Put the lights up around the porch

- Paid some bills

- Ordered a few Christmas presents

- Went to Big Lots to look at a wreath

- Met Matt for lunch

- Ate Pho at Koi - it was good.

- Went to Michael's to look at a wreath; bought one

Pretty sure Matt's going to hate it, but I love it.

- Stopped at Walgreens to look at battery operated lights - they didn't have them

- Stopped at Kroger to look at battery operated lights - they had them

- Also bought a turkey and turkey accoutrements at Kroger

- Came home and threw turkey in oven

I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille!

- Put up wreath

- Fed dog

- Waiting for Matt to come home

- Will start cooking dinner (pasta) shortly, as turkey will not be ready for tonight

So that was a day. I'm going to Zumba tonight, and can you believe this? They're expecting snow. In NOVEMBER. I mean, yes - the 28th of November, but still. Yikes.

I haven't bathed today, and in fact, I didn't bathe yesterday (we left Atlanta hastily). I may hit the showers pre-Zumba, because I can.

Like a turkey - stuffed.

2011-11-27T16:59:00.001-06:00

We just got back from Atlanta. It was terrific.

Now, I get to deal with the sink, and that's not so terrific.

The kitchen sink died early last week. I tried to unclog it with all the usual methods and finally realized, after taking it apart that the clog is coming from outside the house. Yeah. Great.

I have a plumber coming in the morning. We'll see. I've got some money on the credit card, hopefully enough to pay for whatever ends up happening.

I kind of want to pop on the scale and see what the damage is. And after that, I need to go pick up dinner. Because I can't cook without a sink, now can I?

After that, it's time to figure out Christmas. Think I'll wait on those decisions til I know how much I've sunk into the sink.

It's the most wonderful time of the year.

Really.

Why I'm Thankful

2011-11-23T10:38:00.001-06:00

Well, it's that time of year again. How is that possible? I think we just recovered from last year.

I love Thanksgiving. It's free from gift-giving, religious guilt and loaded with carbs and fat. What's not to love?

So, I'll take a moment to flex my gratitude muscle and give a shout out to:

- Drs. Stasko and Iorizzo. Thanks for curing my hair cancer. The piece of scalp is nothing, and the peace of mind is everything.

- Weight Watchers - both the program and the lovely people who run and attend our Wednesday meetings. I couldn't have gotten this far without you - and even when I give up on the program, it never and you never give up on me.

- How I Met Your Mother. Sometimes, you just need a little 30 minute break. And though you've had better seasons, I appreciate the diversion you create.

- Social Media. I appreciate you for allowing me to express myself. Even if I don't have anything worth saying.

- JACK-FM. You gave me the chance to try something I was born to do. And you were all really nice, and it was honestly just a great experience. Thank you.

- Effexor-XR. I'm pretty sure that Debbie Boone was singing your praises in the song, "You Light Up My Life". And even if she wasn't, she should have been. Thanks for keeping my keel even, and my fists mostly unclenched.

- Zumba with Carrie. You are the only thing that could tear me away from my weekly HIMYM fix (see above). So praise Hulu. I need this class like Oreos need cold milk. I love the nice people that join in the fun, and I need to find more classes like this.

- Gainful, fulfilling employment. Even when it's bad, it's good. And it's rarely bad.

- My friends. Because I love them. Because they love me. Because we bring the party with us.

- My family. They make me crazy sometimes, but they made me who I am. And I love them.

- Lola. She smells bad, she sheds, she's an escape artist, she has terrible manners, and I love her to pieces. And come January, we'll have had 13 lucky years together.

- Matt. Without whom, none of the above would matter. Thanks for taking this journey with me and making it more fun. We'll mark up the Sky Mall together for years to come.

A Jump on Black Friday

2011-11-20T21:08:00.001-06:00

Dear Santa,

Times being what they are, it's not even Thanksgiving yet, but I thought I'd make life easy on you and give you a few ideas for me, in re: Christmas.

I've been reasonably nice this year - and naughty when applicable. I don't deserve a lot, but a few little trifles and gewgaws are never inappropriate.

So I'll give you a few to choose from:

- A small umbrella, and I mean tiny. Like this. Available at Kohl's, Target, WalMart, etc. I do love a jaunty print or cheery color.

- Kitchen shears. Bed Bath and Beyond has them. All kinds. And cheap. There's a coupon on the fridge if you need it.

- I am desperate for new bras. I mean, it's getting ugly. I don't expect you to know how to handle that. Maybe Mrs. Claus can help you. She'd probably have me go to Rebecca Vaughn or Soma or something.

- I always love new sleepwear, and Kohl's has some pretty things. I would probably need an XL in whatever you like. I kind of dig the Little House on the Prairie look, but if you think my husband would prefer something a little more ooh la la, I'll be grateful for whatever I get.

- Exercise stuff. New Year, New Fitness Goals - I wouldn't say no to a good sports bra, or a small, sturdy MP3 player of some kind. Or some good socks.

- A subscription to Southern Living. Because I like to pretend that I'm going to use their ideas when I refurb my imaginary coastal bungalow.

- A gift certificate to The Container Store. I don't normally like the delayed gratification of gift cards, but I think we both know organizing isn't my strong suit.

- A frilly apron. They sell them at places like Hot Pink, you know - next to The Puffy Muffin. Honestly, Santa, was there ever a more unfortunate pairing of store names? Still a full apron in a fun floral print...would be killer.

- Who wouldn't want this? Someone without my incredibly dry, cracked hands - that's who.

- If you wanted to buy me a new backpack for work - I love anything by the folks at MadPax. Orange, green, or any of the "faux dino" are best. But the pink one has a certain je ne sais quoi.

- I've been eyeballing the new Mindy Kaling book, but it's tough now that I have a Kindle. If you wanted me to have a Kindle Fire with a copy of that on it- I wouldn't say no. Kidding - that's pretty low on the list.

- Anything from IKEA - a Blurg or a Kvorstad or a Bovlig. In red.

- To steal from my friend's daughter Evie, whose mom posted her Santa letter on FB...Root beer. Diet for me. Barq's is good.

For you, I've leave rum balls, or sausage balls. Or both.

I don't deserve all of this, or even half. But in your infinite wisdom, I know you'll know what to do.

Sincerely,

ae

That's funny.

2011-11-19T14:50:00.001-06:00

So, yesterday, I had the opportunity to participate in a focus group at work, for an initiative to improve employee morale. We started with an excercise where we had to tell 2 people in the room that we appreciated them for something. We had to write it down, read it outloud and then hand the card to the person.

I got appreciated by 4 people in the room. That makes me feel pretty popular. I was appreciated for my customer focus, for my friendliness, and for my pepper jelly - but they all mentioned my sense of humor. And that brings me to this.

I'm never going to be the serious one. Ever.

Much like in school, I never got cast as the ingenue, the lead. I'm a character actress.

So as much as I'd like to think I'm Nellie Forbush, I'm really Bloody Mary.

When I'm not busy chewing betel nuts, I am cracking jokes.

In fact, I had dinner with Jim and James last night and Jim brought his friend Mark. Mark was really friendly, bright, cute and a pleasure to meet. This morning, Jim texted me that Mark thinks I'm "funny as hell" and enjoyed getting to know me.

So, there's that. I guess it's OK. Because I know who I am, and what I bring to the table.

But you have to admit "I'm In Love With a Wonderful Guy" is a better song than "Happy Talk". It's sad, but true.

Tonight I'm going to a party - bringing chess pies and a sense of humor.

Trees, brushes... the usual.

2011-11-16T22:43:00.001-06:00

Went to Paint Along Nashville tonight with the regulars - Matisse, Degas and Me.

First, a quick bite at Cinco de Mayo, where I had one margarita, which was one too many.

But we can't blame the outcome on the booze, now can we?

The finished products from L-R: Allison, James, Natae.

The instructor gave him a brush to pose with.

Nice work.

I would totally take a non-fatal bullet for this guy. Can you say that about your boss?

Non-fatal bullet for this lady too. Love her!

No, still a little crooked.

I feel like busting out with "That's What Friends are For". Keep smiling, keep shining...

Star Craving Mad

2011-11-15T19:33:00.001-06:00

So, I'm feeling a little frustrated. We're into our darkest time of the year here, and the lack of daylight makes me a little crazy.

Add to that, I feel like I'm being spread a little thin, and I'm also feeling fat. So that's a nice dichotomy. Ahahaha.

Anyhoo, I was perusing the old Facebook the other night, and this gal I used to work with was going on about keeping the Christ in Christmas, and how she doesn't say "Happy Holidays".

I'm thinking about a counterpointy kind of post saying that I grew up with a tree and menorah and I recognize that there's more than one holiday this season (Thanksgiving, New Years and Festivus are all holidays, right?). And so I'll be hoping my friends enjoy whatever they celebrate, whenever they celebrate it, and I'll wish them a hearty "Season's Greetings".

But, I might lose a few friends, start a flame war, and so on.

So maybe I'll leave it be.

Or not.

Well, there you have it.

Tomorrow night James, Natae and I are going painting again. Surely, photos will follow.

I also have to weigh in after some serious non-compliance, and I'm afraid. Very afraid.

Oh well.

Meanwhile, the big work Thanksgiving is coming Thursday, and I'm taking cheese grits. So excited. So very excited.

So yeah. Most wonderful time of the year. Blah, blah.

Off to take a laxative and plan some light clothes to wear to work tomorrow.

Maybe that's a joke, maybe not.

ae

Raking it in...

2011-11-13T10:09:00.001-06:00

I am pretty sure that, at least for the moment, I am not going to get a tattoo. Instead, I bought myself a ring - one that holds a marble in it - and I can change out the marble for a different one whenever I choose.

Isn't this cute? No actual cats were blinded in the making of this ring.

I should have used that money to buy a winter coat, but the fact is, I wanted something to look at and remember this year by.

And while a tattoo would have done the trick, it's permanent, and at the moment, I'm feeling a little more...fleeting.

It is what it is.

I raked the front yard this morning. I love living in an older neighborhood, but I hate the trees. Fucking trees. Leaves all clogging up my gutter and whatnot.

At the moment, my next move is to shower off the leaf dust and head out for groceries. I also need to get my old winter coats out and rehab them. I have a peacoat that isn't too bad, and if I were to put new buttons on it, it would look better. The barn jacket, frankly, is what it is...

Next year, once I've lost the bulk of my bulk (and paid off some debt, etc.) - then I can go coat shopping.

As for today, I have work to do.

The good news is, I've already done a lot.

The Up Late Update

2011-11-05T22:26:00.002-05:00

So, I managed to get my bathroom and bedroom into great shape. I hit up the JCP and walked away with nada. I hit up the Kohl's and found three pair of jeans - well, technically, one of the three is a pair of denim trousers - but they're awesome. Extra dark wash, flattering...I used my gift card, spent $26 extra and everyone was happy.

Lola got her dog food but no bath.

I have 2 pages left on my work stuff. I washed a metric fuckton of laundry.

I had a little peppermint froyo from the Pinkberry.

Matt is home, he's about to go to bed.

And since I didn't have a nap today, that looks like a great idea.

Sweet dreams are made of this.

ae

Racing, racing, racing with the clock

2011-11-05T07:26:00.002-05:00

Today I am going to have to balance the want to, the need to, and the have to.

Want to:

Go shopping - I have a Kohls gift card and a Bed, Bath and Beyond gift card - both of which are burning holes in my purse. Plus... JC Penney is having a mega sale and I want a sweater or two.
Take a nap. Stayed up late last night (more on that in a second), and it's 7:17 and I'm awake. Six hours does not a good night's sleep make.

Need to:

Give Lola a bath, get laundry done and put away, get ready for the next week, clean my scummy bathroom and our overgrown bedroom. Get some shit together and take it to Goodwill. Figure out the grocery situation.

Have to:

Complete ten pages of completely tedious, repetitive manual data stripping for work. Due to our system's glitch, we now have some poor soul receiving 500 e mails. That has to stop, and since the hot fix is really more of a tepid fix - I'm the girl with the golden keystroke. I hate it, but I have to do it. And I stayed up late last night, but didn't even make a dent. Also, I cannot let it get to dinnertime tonight without getting kibble. Lola is completely out. She ate some kibble dust this AM for sure. I am thinking I might try something our new dogsitter recommended.

And, speaking of have to. Matt's out of town until this evening, so I have until - let's say 7PM to balance these things effectively.

Now, since both Kohls and JCP open really early, I could head there in the now-ish timeframe, get the benefit of the Doorbuster Savings at JCP ($14.99 for a sweater - uh, yeah, I'll take 2). But conventional wisdom would say get some work done first and then reward yourself with the shopping.

Less conventional wisdom would say, get the shopping done, come home, bust out 2 hours at the computer, another two in housework and then take a nap.

I love less conventional wisdom...

ae

PS - Notice how exercise and healthy eating didn't make my list? Yeah - that's what Sunday is for.

PPS - Just checked their websites - looks like I need to delay shopping for a few hours. So... housework it is. See, isn't it nice how flexible I am?

Everyone deserves a chance to fly...

2011-11-02T16:02:00.001-05:00

It’s hard to say just when my self-esteem crashed and burned– but I’d say around 4^th grade.

The thing is, I’ve never had that feeling of “I’m not smartenough”. Well, I mean – from time totime, but intellectually, I’ve never felt vastly inferior.

Now, I’ve felt "not pretty enough" a million times in my life.

It’s kind of sick, actually.

I catch myself daily looking around to make sure I 'm not the fattest/ugliest/plainest looking person in the room. Even when it doesn't matter. Especially when it doesn't matter.

And I tell you this all because of the photo I’m about topost:

There are so many inappropriate caption options.

Here is a picture of me and two people I’m crazy about. On my left, James. On my right, Jim. This is us after seeing Wicked at theTennessee Performing Arts Center.

And I dumped it onto the computer last night and was gettingready to throw it on Facebook when a thought popped clearly into my head:

“I think I’m attractive enough to be seen with these two.”

No thoughts about how lucky I am to have nice friends, orwhat a nice evening we had, or that I like James’ pocket square, or that Jimwas thoughtful to organize this outing, or any of that.

Just that I was worthy of spending time with them because ofmy physical appearance.

Now, to be honest, these guys probably wouldn’t give a damnif I showed up in a flower sack with coffee cans for shoes. They apparently spend time with me because… Idon’t know – I’m funny, or kind, or generous or maybe I amuse them? I don’t know.

But it’s not about my makeup or hair.

That said, it was a great evening. We had dinner, we saw a show. We laughed, we got a stranger to take apicture and then we came home.

I’ve got to get over whatever it is that makes me feelunworthy.

Also, I’ve been having this really strange urge to get atattoo.

Which… that’s a bad idea, right?

Something small – no bigger than a nickel.

Still. Bad idea, Iknow, right?

Hmm.

Creepy, Kooky, Mysterious, Spooky

2011-10-31T22:19:00.000-05:00

So, despite my advanced age, I had not one, but two Halloween costumes this year.

Submitted for your approval. Here's me at work today as a turkey vulture (aka buzzard). I am hovering over my friend Colby, who came as road kill. Sadly, because of the angle of the photo, it looks like I'm about to grab his carrot, if you will. While dozen of co-workers watch, arms crossed in hostility.

Hippity, hoppity motherfluffer!

Here's a group photo that gives a better view where I don't appear to be molesting anyone:

The pink crayon is a little dirty, even though it's completely innocent. I know, I know...

It should be duly noted that Colby and I won best duo, even though we did not plan our costumes together and only decided to team up as we were walking into judging.

And on Saturday, this was me as a Day of the Dead lady. I think it was a good effort, but maybe a little high concept - and the makeup was a disaster. Plus, my hombre was home with a cold, so I was partnerless...

I might want to look into both teeth and eyeball whitening services.

And, while not a costume, per se, here's me, Natae and Erin at the ALS Walk. I include it because my bandana has candy corn and skeletons on it. And because I need sunglasses, and because it makes me look reasonably thinner than I did a year ago.

The one without shades is standing in direct sun. Nice.

Tomorrow - I don my final costume, of sorts tomorrow night.

Jim, James and I are heading to TPAC to go see Wicked. I found a fun little dress at the Goodwill for $7.99 - it's velvet, but not too formal (from Old Navy). I'll put a bling necklace with it and pray I don't look too dumb. Or overdressed. James is wearing a blazer and a pocket square, but no tie. Jim is wearing jeans and a button-down. I'll be overdressed, won't I? Crap.

I haven't dressed up like a grown up in too long. It's far less painful to look goofy intentionally than to give it your best shot and end up looking goofy as a misstep.

But at least I'll take pictures.

It was the best of times, it was the...best of times, actually.

2011-10-26T13:22:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow, I turn 37. I have to be honest – I can’t believe I’m this old. I swear to you that I was just seventeen like, last week. Only, as it turns out, that was 20 years ago.

Did you know that my lucky number is 36? It is. And I’m living proof. With that, I think I’ll sum up my 36^th year - just so I can look back fondly.

So, to be honest, I barely remember my birthday. I honestly don’t remember anything about it. I do know that I had a party at the house about a week before. Beyond that, it’s a blur. Did we go out to dinner? I don’t recall. Even my blog from last year doesn’t reveal much: Hippo birdies!

We spent Thanksgiving with Mom and Dad – we were supposed to hit the Mountains, and we did – for a few minutes. The water was off, so we ended up packing it up and celebrating in Roswell. That was a long weekend in every sense of the word.

I got to go to Portland for training the first week of December. There I sampled Voodoo Donuts (with bacon), got my own model turbine and had fun with a ton of folks.

Christmas was quick and dirty – and two days later, we celebrated Dad’s 70^th birthday. I also had a good time seeing my old OM coach and teammates.

We rang in the new year at The 5 Spot in East Nashville - Roaring 20s style!

On January 5^th, I walked into Weight Watchers. Again. I wasn’t immediately fond of my leader, the group or not eating copious amounts of bad food, but I got into the swing of things.

February – a trip to Peoria, IL. Yep. That's the highlight.

In March, my world got rocked as I moved out of the support team and into client services. Same job, new department, new boss. We also went to a Totally 80s Sweet Sixteen party for Matt's cousin.

April and May? A blur. Something must have happened, but who can say what? Oh – wait – I won the Weight Loss Challenge at the office. Hands down! Oh, and I think that’s when I headed to Philadelphia.

And then, in June, another new boss - my much beloved new boss James - he's awesome. And a trip to the dermatologist. Not awesome.

July brought my election to the board of the Soque Club. Amazing, really. I also threw another fun party for the 4^th of July.

And after that another trip to the dermatologist…diagnosis: pilomatrical carcinoma. I had a piece of scalp removed and kept on keeping on.

We celebrated Matt’s 37^th birthday and our 6^th anniversary. I got bumped on a flight and ended up spending a night in Reston, VA. And I took a trip to Texas. Or two? No, just one. I also went to St. Louis.

And my scalp healed.

Our department came together for a Summit in August, and then in September, a blue-ribbon win at the State Fair, a party to end all parties and the User Conference.

And my scalp healed.

In late September, I made my radio debut on Allison-FM. Sweet!

And my scalp healed.

I went to dinner with friends, partied like a rock star and spent time in the mountains in September and October.

And my scalp healed. And finally, it healed up altogether. And I went back to Water Aerobics.

And that more or less brings me here.

So you know – it’s been kind of a great year. Lots of new friends, lots of new experiences (I mean, even the hair cancer was a new experience). I weigh about 45 pounds less than I did this time last year. I look and feel awesome.

Can 37 possibly top it? We’ll find out starting tomorrow.

What I Thought About Bridesmaids

2011-10-24T13:57:00.000-05:00

So, even before Bridesmaids came out, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I wanted to see it.

I like Kristen Wiig best in small doses, but I think Maya Rudolph has a lot to offer, I think Ellie Kemper is cute. Plus – I love me some Wendi McLendon-Covey (I mean, I came as Clemmy one year for Halloween), and I think that if we were to meet in really life, Melissa McCarthy would be a good friend. Plus, I love funny women. Being funny myself, I want to support my sisters...

So, yeah – it seemed natural to see it.

I never did make it to the theaters to get it in.

And it’s been tough to get from our queue, so I finally RedBoxed it over the weekend.

Here’s what I thought. I thought it was incredibly sad.

Hear me out…

So Kristen Wiig’s character – Annie? Jeez, I can’t even remember – but – her character is working in a jewelry store because she lost a lot of money opening a bakery during a recession. HA! HILARIOUS – money troubles and a dead-end job? Pure comedy gold! Her boyfriend dumped her when the business went under, and now she lives with two horrible roommates.

She sees this prick of a guy from time to time – and he’s really mean to her, and uses her. Aren’t you laughing yet?

So her best friend, Lillian, gets engaged, and she starts falling apart. I know, I can barely contain the chuckles, myself.

Now, not only does she feel like her best friend is moving on, but there’s this other woman, who you later learn is also really lonely and depressed – and she’s trying to horn in on Annie and Lillian’s relationship.

So Annie’s vulnerability drive her to do crazier and crazier shit, until finally, she snaps and Lillian kicks her out of the wedding.

And because her self-esteem is so trashed, she ends up losing her job and running off a guy who treats her too nicely.

The nicest scene in the movie is when Megan, the groom’s sister, comes to see Annie and basically says, “I’m your friend, but I’m only going to start caring about you when you start caring about you.”

So, in the end, Annie rejoins the wedding party, gets to know and understand her nemesis, Helen, and the guy she drove off comes to see her and they ride off into the night together.

I actually cried more than I laughed.

So… that’s normal, right?

And yes, there were funny moments:

- Annie getting incorrectly paired at the engagement party – twice.

- Megan and the Air Marshal

- Megan and the puppies

- Megan, basically every time she appears on the screen

- Annie’s blow job impersonation

- Helen’s step kids

- Lillian’s Dad

- Annie and Lillian attempting to get free boot camp

- Annie and the 13 year old at the jewelry store

I’m just saying. I think I may have bought into the build-up on this one.

See also, Something About Mary, Knocked Up.

But not, inexplicably, Talladega Nights.

Hmmm.

Killing me softly with onions

2011-10-23T21:20:00.000-05:00

So, today, I made tremendous headway on my Halloween costumes, got groceries in the house, and made a curried butternut squash soup that was, to be honest, phenomenal. Now that cooler weather is here, I'm having to find creative ways to get those creamy, savory foods I crave.

And I am really craving salt. No idea why. And yes, I checked - my BP is fine as can be, so that's not it. This time...

Meanwhile, I'm coming up on my 37th birthday. No plans, per se. I bought myself a ticket to Wicked with my friends Jim and James. Beyond that - nothing. I might have to hit up Publix for a slice o' cake.

And that's more or less it.

I have training tomorrow. Beyond that? Nothing.

Well, I have some baking for Matt's office, and then a little for the party...

It's not all pureeing and sewing and glueing.

Yeeha.

What I mean to say is...

2011-10-20T11:39:00.001-05:00

Last night’s weigh-in was bad, but I kind of knew it would be – you cannot cheat the scale. And more to the point, you cannot eat hot wings with reckless abandon and expect to see positive results. See also: Eating Mexican the night before weigh-in. Totally my bad. On all counts.

I should also cop to the candy. I’ve eaten some. And not just the new Skinny Cow candy bars, which are delicious, yes – but I’ve eaten some “real” ones too. And a few Little Debbie snack cakes.

Basically, it’s time to come clean and start anew. I’ve eaten today:

2 Fat Free Hot Dogs

1 banana

1 piece of WW string cheese

I’m doing good.

All of this to preface last night’s meeting. The topic was, “Are The Changes You’re Making Affecting Other People?”

Now, I love Weight Watchers, and I believe it works. I think that the only place where it falls short is in dealing with the emotional issues that got us to the point where we needed to join Weight Watchers to lose the weight.

I’ve had about 5 different leaders, and none of them were/are standouts in this area – and Weight Watchers doesn’t equip them to be.

But this is one of those topics where we had the material to go really deep, but instead, we stayed well above the surface.

So, since I’ve had therapy, and I have a few free minutes, here’s my thoughts on that.

The biggest way I’ve affected other is in trying to feed them. Since I can’t eat it, I’ll encourage you to have it.

Let’s look at this from a different angle…

I was having lunch with some friends last week and commented on a mutual friend who I admired for her openness. They agreed that she was great and we moved on to talk about other things.

So, I’ll tie this together.

In lieu of being able to express emotions to people, I’ve been trying to feed them. And it appears that right now, that means candy.

In the past six weeks, I’ve given candy on five separate occasions. Instead of saying the following:

I want you to know that I am listening to you and want you to be happy.
I am glad you are my friend.
I want you to like me and think I’m nice.
I am proud of you and I support you.
Thank you for putting up with my crazy. I have your back.

Because, let’s face it – people aren’t expecting any of those things from me. They want the clown, not the poet.

That said, none of that is specific to joining WW.

If you were to ask 100 people who know me what’s the first word they’d use to describe me, I doubt any of them would use “sweet” or “nice”.

When it comes to sweet and nice, I let the Junior Mints do the work for me.

And that, if you must know, is how I would answer the topic of the week.

Lighten up - it's just fashion!

2011-10-18T15:00:00.000-05:00

So I’ve alluded, within the past few posts about having trouble bra shopping. So, I might as well get it all out there for you – in hopes that maybe you can offer some advice.

As you have likely read, I’ve lost weight this year – nearly 50 pounds – and I aim to make it at least to 52 by the end of the year. So that we can say that I lost a pound a week average.

I think we can safely say I’ve been screwing around/plateaued since July – and that’s kind of a shame, but this is a lifetime thing, so if it takes awhile so be it.

Anyway, you’re not reading this to see me self-flagellate about my stall out in the Weight Watchers journey.

The point is this . I started the year in a 42DDD bra. Matt points out that the Triple D is for D-D-Damn! But a 42DDD on a 234 pound woman is nothing – it’s not really even proportional. As I started to lose weight, I realized I’d need to rethink the bra situation, and I ended up with two new bras – 40DD – Bali brand. Which made me pretty happy, actually. Now, I ended up getting minimizers, because I was looking a little down and out and the minimizers brought everything a little more front and centered.

But, in the process, it also smashed everything down a little, so I looked heavy and flat-chested at the same time. I don’t know – it worked, but I knew I could do better.

Add to that, I’ve been wearing two bras (one black, one tan) for the better part of this year and they’re starting to look rough. So Saturday, I headed to Macy’s for a little refresher.

I thought I knew what I wanted. I thought. But I pulled a few and learned I had no idea what I was doing.

I borrowed a tape measure from the sales clerk, who didn’t even try to offer to help me – hooray for apathy. Turns out, I’m not so much 40DD or even a 38DD. I’m a 38DDD.

Damn.

Now, Macy’s was clean out of all of the styles I wanted in my new fun size, so I started walking toward Lane Bryant. And I passed Soma. So, you know – I thought I’d give them a shot. I bought from them once before and was a little disappointed. But how soon we forget, then remember. The clerk there was trying to juggle me and another lady. She determined the same thing I’d determined on my own at Macy’s. That I’m a 38DDD. Now, they don’t have much in that size, so she was going to bring a few other sizes just to see. Which means she was determined to get me into a bra, whether it fit or not. She ended up bringing me the perfect bra – but they only had one of them, and it was a 38DDD – the size she told me they didn’t even have in that style.

So, rather than acknowledge her mistake, she started blustering. No thanks. I left braless and dejected.

I looked on their website, and they do make that style in that size, but I’ll be damned if they have any in colors I can actually wear under clothes.

So I’ve been keeping my eyes open.

I also tried on a few of my older bras – and I have a Lane one that seems to be working, and would be great in a better size. So I may head over there later this week and give those a try again.

I don’t know – I just feel a little overwhelmed.

I had to spend a little money on clothes so that I wasn’t coming to work naked or in clothes that made me look like I’d gained back the entire 46 pounds – so I have a few new things and they look nice, but I’m so sick of spending money.

So I may just have to settle on looking flat for a bit.

Any suggestions? I swear I’m not a mutant.

Here we go 'round in circles.

2011-10-17T18:44:00.000-05:00

I finished up the thank you notes and mailed them, because that's the kind of girl I am.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, which is to say, at work... I talk. I talk a lot. Training. And that's the long and short if it.

My throat hurts - it's that time of year. Even without my pesky tonsils, it's rough.

I'm going to Zumba tonight.

To be honest, I'm a little down - it was a good weekend, and the week looks a bit lackluster after all that. I have a customer coming in on Friday, and normally, I'd be delighted. But they're giving us a half day on Friday, which means I can't partake, and that pisses me off.

Well, it's not all beer and roses.

And on that note, time to throw on the workout gear and get to it.

What I'd prefer is a plate of hot chocolate chip cookies.

You know - for the throat pain.

Ha,

ae

Remember that time we went to a party? That was awesome.

2011-10-16T20:58:00.000-05:00

Great weekend. Started out with a Friday night early bedtime, and grew into a whole bunch of fun.

I did some housework on Saturday AM, then went bra shopping, where I learned I am a freak of nature. What else is new? I didn't buy any bras as a protest of the fact that Soma underwhelmed me with their service/selection. Thanks for the "fitting" though. It confirmed exactly what I learned 15 minutes before with a tape measure and my own two hands at Macy's.

I texted my boss to see if he was in the mood for lunch, picked him up and we ate salads at Bread and Company. Curried chicken salads, but still.

I came home, made some dishes to take to a party, got some beer, then got dressed.

My boss met us at the house, and the rest, I'll tell you photographically.

Since it was an Oktoberfest, Matt and I opted to bring it, Munchen style. Wish we'd taken a real photo but oh wells...

Here is a photo of me with a bottle of (root) beer in my ample bosom. Don't I look cute?

Here's a blurry photo of Matt in his Tyrolean hat. Ausgezeichnet!

Me and my lady friends - Bethany, Natae and Erin. A small harem?

I changed into street clothes after giving everyone a good look at my großen Brüsten.

My delightful bossman, James.

So, I was a designated drived - I stuck to diet Root Beer all night. Yes, I was sober in every last picture.

Because of that, we ended up delivering a car down to Franklin this morning to my boss, then he, Matt and I hit up Chuy's for homemade tortillas and queso - nectar of the (Mayan) Gods.

After a late afternoon nap, I grocery shopped, hit up Subway for their $5 Anytober Foot Long Special, and I am now avoiding writing thank you notes to the people at the radio station...

But since I'm out of pictures...

Damn.

Time to write thank you notes.

ae

Cheating at Blogging

2011-10-12T20:58:00.000-05:00

So, my company has an initiative to try to get their Social Media into high gear, involving lots of different departments.

And so, I submitted this:

But There's So Much More You Need To Know...

And they published it - so I'm linking to it here because I don't feel much like writing and yet, I wanted to update my blog.

We'll call it multi-tasking and leave it at that.

Peace, yo.

ae

Don't let the sun go down on your anger...

2011-10-07T14:46:00.001-05:00

Yom Kippur begins at sundown tonight.

For those of you not in the know, it’s the Jewish Day of Atonement. And it falls about a week and change after Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. Kind of like back-dated resolutions…kind of.

So, if you recall, I’ve done some atoning on this blog before.

**right...here**

And since it’s been two years, since my last atonement – forgive me Rabbi, for I have – well, not sinned, per se. I’ve just been less than the best version of myself.

I would like to once again atone for any neglect I may have perpetrated on Lola. Including the fact that I kenneled her just this morning to run to Atlanta for the weekend. Don’t worry, beasto – I’ll give you a warm bath and a home-cooked meal once we get home.

And speaking of home-cooked meals – would it kill me to get some fresh food in the house for my sweet husband? The last few months have been hectic, but Man cannot live on Hot Pockets and overripe bananas alone.

For any of those times I came in late to work because I needed iced coffee or a Sonic run – I’m sorry. I should never let my chronic need for caffeine morph into chronic tardiness.

Sorry for those few times I used all the hot water, landing me in hot water with the mister.

I regret my overuse of the phrase “douchecanoe” when describing people. Not that they weren’t being douchey, because chances are they were. But I can use my words more effectively. I’ll take suggestions for a replacement phrase. Just to be clear: douchecanoe > douchebag > “db”.

Still working on decreasing that debt. And, with the Great Hair Cancer Debacle of 2011, I managed to rack up a bit more. You can safely assume I’ll be stimulating the economy for the next year. Or seven.

I can say I’ve tried and mostly succeeded in my battle against the vicious, pernicious (and sadly, delicious) calorie. Down nearly 47 pounds, and I’m looking to finish the year strong. I ask for forgiveness, though – as I was wasteful. I bought slices of Publix cake, but ate only the icing. Threw out perfectly good candy bars, half eaten. To say nothing of leftovers in the fridge that went to waste and not to waist.

My bad, yo.

I could have done better about returning voicemail. And for that matter, remembering to pull my out of office messages in a more timely manner. Oopsie.

Again, that whole “lack of patience with colleagues” reared its ugly head this year. But to be fair, three bosses in six months? Losing my work husband to a different department and gaining in his place a little douchecanoe – er… feminine hygiene kayak of a co-worker? Please. PLEASE. That said, I should atone. Because though I’m paired with a guy who is built like a fire hydrant with a personality to match… I ended up with my new awesome boss, James. Yay James.

I’d like to atone for not using Social Media to better more lives. It has bettered mine, yes… but it has so much potential that I left untapped this year.

I wish I’d kept the house cleaner, the laundry under control. I would like to have exercised more and spent less time on the interwebs. I should have loved on my husband some more, written more thank you notes, and accepted compliments more graciously.

Honestly, though – I think it’s only going to get better. So what say I’ll just take another year to sand down the rough edges, and we’ll do this again next Yom Kippur.

Deal?

Deal.

To have one is to be one...

2011-10-06T09:42:00.005-05:00

When I was in college, I read Elizabeth Berg’s Talk Before Sleep. I’ve since read other things that she’s written, and have to say this is really her best. I mention it because of a line near the beginning of the book when the protagonist is describing her friend:

“ Ruth has friends like other people have wardrobes. I mean that there's someone for every occasion.”

And I remember thinking what a nice feeling that must be.

Well, it only took fifteen years, but I finally have a closetful of friends.

When I first moved to Nashville, the only friends I had here were the ones I inherited from my husband. And that was great, but it wasn’t enough.

I had fantasies where I’d be at a coffee shop and meet a nice group of ladies and they’d ask me to join their gang.

It never happened.

What did happen is that slowly, I started putting feelers out and making friends.

Rosie was first. Rosie and I share a common enemy, similar political beliefs and a love of Project Runway.

But for a long time, Rosie was it. And though I love her, she wasn't really enough. You can't have a wardrobe of a single evening gown...

And then, I started a new job. And for some reason, this job, and the people here spoke to me. Both literally and emotionally.

And I started making friends. Lots and lots of friends.

In fact, I learned that I’m kind of a social person. I still have anxiety, but the fact is – my social life in Nashville is booming. Last night, I went to a killer party at the Parthenon because a friend had an extra ticket. I had lunch with pals yesterday, there’s another lunch on tap for today. And then, next weekend, an Oktoberfest, and in November – I’m going to see Wicked. In December, Arlo Guthrie.

Having a life is kind of awesome.

Parking Lot Discussions - The non-corporate kind...

2011-09-29T16:30:00.002-05:00

As you know, I am something of a Zumba enthusiast. I just enjoy getting out there, moving to music and feeling good about myself.

I also like the people in my Monday night class – there’s a group of us who are around the same age – five of us in all, who all meet and chat after class. We talk work, we talk family, we talk about everything.

One of the women wondered last week if any of us had ever done a colon clease. None of us had. The general consensus was that the colon was a self-cleaning mechanism. One woman invoked the horrors of a colonscopy.

From there, we started talking feminine hygiene. The upshot is that these are unnecessary inventions made to convince women that we’re dirty and disgusting.

And I hate to be like that, but really…

When is the last time you cruised the aisles of the drugstore and saw any of the following:

Professor Tapthat’s Foreskin Salve (Baby Smooth In Minutes!)

Fromunda Exfoliating Scrub

Brothers Brand Ball Soak (Now in Ocean Fresh and Winter Hike)

Balmy Breezes Shaft Spray

Taint Tamer – Now With More Bleaching Action!

Pubic Pomade (Not a Hair Out of Place!)

Sac So Sweet –“Scrotpourri”

You don’t see these because dudes don’t care if their dicks smell like… dicks.

And so, ladies, I urge you. Shower, of course – use soap, wear cotton drawers… but don’t give into the urge to add chemicals to something that doesn’t need them.

Also, I have copyrighted the names of all the above products. Because although they don’t exist…maybe they should.

Hugs. Kisses.

No way! Way.

2011-09-23T21:02:00.000-05:00

I won the radio contest. I get to program JACK-fm for a day. They'll rename it Allison-fm in my honor.

I'm beyond stoked.

Apparently, not everyone thinks I should have been the winner - according to some naysayers on Facebook, but my support is mostly positive.

Because as I said when they called me to ask some questions, "There's a fine line between enthusiastic and stalker."

And that, for now. Is that.

Want to listen to my station next Friday?

http://963jackfm.com

Nice.

ae

Mother of the Year

2011-09-23T03:25:00.001-05:00

Lola has been a total pain in the ass for about two days - she woke me up about a half hour ago, being restless and it finally dawned on me that she has an ear infection.

I checked her ears and - yep, bingo. Did a little cleaning, got the drops, dosed her and gave her 2 benadryl to boot. She's comfortable. Finally.

And really, I'm a jackass for not figuring it out sooner.

I've been distracted.

More on that to come in about... 14 hours.

For now, sleep. Then work.

Then some high-caliber blogging.

It's a good thing I don't have kids. DFACs would have been here to take them.

She sings the songs that remind her of the better times...

2011-09-19T10:10:00.000-05:00

The problem with having a lot of exciting events come all at once is that when they’re over, they’re over. And if you’re like me, you have that whole “post event let-down”. See also, January 2nd of every year.

If you saw my last post, you can intuit that it all began on the 9^th. I won at the State Fair, we had a party at the house the next day, I recovered on Sunday and then Monday, hit the ground running with our User Conference. Four days – I trained a full day, and taught four sessions throughout the week. I ended each day socializing, and started all over again early every morning.

And then Friday evening, I went out with my favorite peeps and painted day of the dead skeletons, drank wine and laughed. Mostly, I laughed.

And then I woke up Saturday morning, depressed. My boss is back at his home office for the week, several of my friends are on PTO or traveling for work, and I’m back into the day-to-day training, paperwork and all the boring little things that make up an eight hour work day.

So, I need to find some bright spots in the dull…

Well, I have a birthday coming up – but a minor one in the canon of importance – Halloween is coming – and we have a party to go to.

Tomorrow, we’re having an International Potluck at the office – but only a handful of people have signed up. I’m bringing Jamaican Jerk Pork. I bought the Walker Wood sauce at the Farmers Market yesterday. There's a company meeting next week, and Flu Shots...

I’m trying to win a contest where I run a radio station for a day. I think my chances are as good as anyone else who entered. It would be pretty amazing.

I guess that in absence of big things to be excited about, it’s the dozens and dozens of little things that get us through a day, a week, a month, a year.

I’m still feeling a little down. But as my friends Chumbawumba would tell you, “I get knocked down, but I get up again. And they’re never going to keep me down.”

Pissin’ the night away,

This week in pictures...

2011-09-17T21:53:00.002-05:00

This is what a winner looks like.

This is what winning jelly looks like.

Saturday Night Soiree - Lola is wearing her party cone and evil eyes.

Me and my boyfriend, Colby. His wife Diane asked for a matchy shirt picture, so it's OK.

Self Portraiture

These nice people spent a whole week with me and they're still smiling in this picture.

My dear friends/colleagues, Natae and James

Face time with my boss, in a wickedly literal sense. Have I mentioned I really like my boss?

Me and my boss and our skeletons.

Too unique for Junior League!

The finished product, also a personality test.