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Showing posts from January, 2014

Letter to Lands' End

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Here's the letter I wrote to Lands' End yesterday. Because I'm crazy (and hilarious).Dear Lands' End,    

First, let me start by saying, I'm a huge fan and have been for years.    Second, let me tell you, I'm plus-sized.  You can probably see where we're going with this.    I love your clothes, and I have money to spend.  And since I'm a bigger woman, I'm technically spending more money per piece than your smaller customers.    
I got your Best Color Trends catalog today, and started drooling over the popovers and Portico side-zip pants on pages 26 and 27.  Then I noticed, I can't get the pants in Intense Rose, or even White, for that matter!  Well, bummer - but sadly, that's pretty common with y'all.  Apparently, you don't think we big girls want the wild colors -   some of us kind of do .   Then I notice that of the colors we can get, they're actually not side zip in our size.  So... the Portico Side-Zip is something of a misnome…

Airtight

I woke up this morning, on a weekend, no less, at 7AM.

I was having a crazy anxiety dream and couldn't breathe.  It doesn't help that I'm a walking land mass, and that having gorged on cheese yesterday, my sinuses are slapped shut.  I woke up with my heart pounding and short of breath.

Again, that could have been my size and sinuses as a contributor.

Lots of weird dreams last night, though.  I spent a lot of the night dreaming about mistaken identities and elevators.  It was kind of farcical.

The one that left me gasping for air this morning was a that I was preparing to go into a standardized test.  What was being tested and why, who knows?  Doesn't matter.  What does matter is that I had been preparing for it with sample tests, etc.  So it must have been important to me.

When I arrived at the testing center, I was dismayed to learn I would be taking the test, not alone in a quiet room as I'd been practicing, but in a large, crowded communal space with a lot of pe…

As it turns out.

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This time yesterday, I had knots in my stomach because I had customers coming onsite for a two-day data clean-up, training combo.



I was feeling the pressure of having to be 'on' two days in a row, and to be honest, I wasn't excited about it.  Or about having to get dressed up for a day at work.  Or starting the sessions at 8:30.
And I was preparing for bed, I checked my phone.  My boss, who is in town this week messaged me from the bar at his hotel. He told me he was sitting next to my customers.  He had just met them, completely coincidentally, and they were all drinking together.  He told me they were awesome and I'd love them. Oh, and by the way, they didn't want to start til 9AM.
I know a half hour seems minor, but it makes a huge difference.
I immediately felt better.
And guess what, it was a great day.  The customers were a hoot.  We did some training, and I think I'll be making a huge difference in their day to day workload.
It felt great.  Tomorrow is …

Daytime TV; Teacher, Mother..Secret Lover

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So, this seems an appropriate follow-up to the fact that I didn't want to go to Weight Watchers today. Let it be said, I'm up a pound but found it very helpful, and my leader is growing on me.

Anyway, Monday afternoon, I had to go to my doctor's office for a recheck; which under normal circumstances should have taken five minutes.

But for reasons that were never explained, I waited an hour and ten minutes before getting called back.

Which is to say, before throwing a fit, getting pissy and then getting called back.

The waiting room had a TV, and Dr. Oz was on.  Now, I don't know much about the guy, except he's one of those people who boarded the Oprah Gravy Train and didn't look back.  See also, Gayle, Dr. Phil.  And more power to him.  I'm sure he's not evil incarnate, but I'm not going to make him my primary care provider.  I would, however, allow Dr. Sanjay Gupta full access to my medical records.

Quick tangent - my mother (an RN), shortly before…

Fat Got Your Tongue?

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I don't want to go to Weight Watchers tonight.

I am assured that this is pretty normal. 

For one, it's cold and dark out, and I am hungry, so the idea of sitting through a meeting talking about food seems counterproductive.

For two, I'm probably up from last week.  I didn't dare to get on the scale, except at the doctor's office, where I had on too many clothes, plus they have one of those ancient scales.

So, eff that.

I mean, I'm going.  With any luck, Christy and Sharon and Sharon and Karen will all be there.

Yep, Weight Watchers has a lot of Sharon and Karen.

Get it?  Sharin' and carin'?

Ugh, if only bad jokes shed pounds.



ae

Aye, there's the rub.

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So, I wrote about my nine-fingered masseur, and my cyber-friend, Chuck Baudelaire (whose blog you both can, and should, read HERE), posited that it really depended on which finger was missing.

I can tell you it was his right index finger, and it was about 2/3 gone.

But honestly, still a great massage.

And if you can believe it, it's not even the weirdest massage story I can tell.

I got my first massage at the tender age of 22.  Right before my sister's wedding, my mother sent me over to a masseuse she'd used and liked.  I have to admit, I had been doing work around the house, lost track of time, and ended up at the place a little sweatier and smellier than I should have.  Oh well.  I don't remember anything about it other than that I must have liked it.

After that, massages were a rare and exotic treat, because I sure couldn't afford them - unless I went to the Atlanta School of Massage.  A few years later, just before Christmas, I went and had one with a guy name…

The good (censor) ship lollipop

So.  Another instance of... I can't say *that* on Facebook!

I went to get a massage yesterday. The masseur came to greet me and when we shook hands,  I noticed he had a finger missing.

My first thought was, "Shouldn't that entitle me to a 10% discount?"

Long story short... it was a great massage and I am an asshole.


Told you so...

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Last Friday, I opened a ticket with the IT Department because I kept getting a message on my laptop that the hard drive was about to fail.

And I heard nothing back.

And this morning, my laptop wouldn't boot.

So, suck it.

Now I'm on a loaner, which is annoying for a lot of reasons. 

Granted, I was annoyed to have to tromp down to the IT Department at 8:30 , but in retelling it to my colleague in Maine, he was concerned that I hadn't been more bitchy about it.

So apparently, there's a level I've achieved that people accept as my standard threshold of crank.

Thank you?

No, that's not it...

Hmm.  Anyway.

I decided to schedule a massage for myself tonight.  I've been nursing a sore shoulder and achy neck for a few weeks,  and now that I'm confident it's not shingles (well ok, like 80% confident), I'm going to let someone spend some time working on it.

I skipped lunch so I could leave early.  Well, I ate some soup and crackers al desko.  That's a…

Roe, roe, roe your boat...

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I nearly got run out of my lane this morning by a guy in a minivan.  Irony?  He had one of those Choose Life car tags.

I think it's no surprise that I'm pro-choice. That said, I'm grateful I've never had to choose, because I wonder if my mouth writes checks my uterus can't cash.  Thanks to the makers of Mirena, we'll never know.  Thanks, Bayer!





My mother and I were actually talking about that just this weekend.

She was born in 1944, and therefore, came of age around the same time as The Pill.   

I was asking her if she had ever known someone who had a then-illegal abortion.

She told me about a girl in her Nursing School who went to New York with her mother THREE TIMES in THREE YEARS.  If a nursing student can't figure out how not to get preggers, what hope do we have for the rest of the population? 

She told me about a suitemate who had gotten pregnant and miscarried - she said she didn't know about it at the time,  but learned of it years later.

Then she tol…

Wouldacouldashoulda

I really should have taken today as a mental health day, because, I'll be honest - I'm not fit for human company.

I came in, and as soon as I hit the door, I remembered I was on deck for a training class this morning - getting a new hire up to speed.  

So I mentioned to my fearless leader that I might exit after that for a little mental health respite.  He said that since my counterpart was out with a tummy ache (my words), he needed me to stick around.

No worries.  As I said, vomiting trumps blah.  That should be cross-stitched on a sampler somewhere.

I gave a good training session, and that was OK.

Then I went to lunch with my friend, Jim, which also felt OK.  I kind of felt foggy-brained, but apparently, I was decent company.

It's after I got back that it all went tango uniform.  My colleagues were all being SUPER LOUD in our area, and I just kept getting more and more agitated.  I went for a little walk around the office, came back to my desk, and wrote a concise email to ou…

Old girl

Tomorrow marks the one year anniversary of Lola's death. Knowing me as you do,  you can appreciate that I'm kind of falling apart over it.

Would it be a bad idea to take the day off?

Or will my coworkers be cool with me curled up under my desk sobbing at odd intervals?

I'm sure I'll be fine. Mostly.  Onward.

Allison

It's a sign

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There are some new signs that have popped up in our break room and conference rooms at the office.  At first, they were a little cryptic:



I initially thought they were about disclosing customer information in a secure way, and then, I hoped (selfishly) that they were a mental health initiative of some kind (I'll get back to that in a second).

As it turns out, they're to remind us as a company not to drive distracted.  They're in conference rooms because we're supposed to do a sanity check before we start calls to make sure that people on the phone aren't also barreling down the highway.

I think that's swell.  Cryptic, but swell.  But, I mean, if you want to get the right audience, get some little air freshener trees with that printed on them and get your people to hang them from their rearview mirrors.

Anyway, back to mental health.  I've had a tumultuous time of late (meaning, the past year), and I find that I am having a hard time finding acceptable places to…

Eye see.

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Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

So, the whole puffy eye thing has been lingering a little, and this morning, I woke up to find my left eye (OS, in medspeak) was red and bloodshot.



It's allergies, I think.

But I don't know to what.

We had a new girl start last week, literally, a week ago yesterday.  And I started sneezing violently that whole day.  I chalked it up to the possibility that I'm allergic to her.  What's to say I'm not?

She also wears a charm bracelet with lots and lots of stuff on it.  Which she drags across her desk and it jangles and scrapes constantly.

She also has a Motown Hairdo:

Ergo, I have given her a (private) nickname of Jingles Supreme.

Which amuses me greatly.

Even if she does give me conjunctivitis.

Stop, in the name of love.

ae

I bet I think this song is about me, don't I?

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So, remember how I was going to start a skincare regimen as part my my New Year's resolutions?

I went and got a line of Neutrogena products to get started.  I like their stuff, and I think it works and the prices are solid.

So, I started on that this weekend.

But, I had a drugstore hydrating mask in my bathroom, and given how cold it's been and is going to be, I thought - heck, I'll give that a shot.

And I did.

But apparently, my face took exception, to wit:

So that's fun.

I picked up some Benadryl cream on the way into the office, and thankfully, because of the weather, there aren't too many folks here to witness my busted face.

Meanwhile, I'll lay off the cheapo skincare quick fixes.

I sent a copy of the above pic to my BFF Connie - she replied, "...for what it's worth, you look incredibly hydrated."

She has a point.

ae

Snow job.

It's about to get buck wild here in the Volunteer State.  Weather's going to close shit down, allegedly.  

I'll believe it when I see it, but just in case, I have gingerbread baking in the oven, split pea soup in the crock pot, and more food in the fridge than a family of two could/should work their way through in a week.  Plus, all five seasons of The Wire on DVD, plenty of propane in the grill, and if it should come to that - firewood.  Which, let's hope it doesn't come to that.

So we'll see.  One of the girls at work was saying we should plan to work from home because of the extreme cold temps on Monday/Tuesday.  My colleague, Jim, messaged me with advice for this girl;

"Hey, Hillbilly... use some common sense and cover your skin for a change.  Problem solved."

Any sentence that begins "Hey Hillbilly" can only end in comic gold.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got gingerbread to check on.  I also need to figure out how to cook Swiss Cha…

Unfiltered

For what it's worth, I do, from time to time, censor my thoughts.

Here's a for-instance.

This morning, I went out to my car, and it was cold.  Really cold.  Sixteen degrees - which, for a hothouse orchid such as me was brutal.  Brutal.

I started thinking about the gloves that I was not wearing, which I bought for my Alaska trip.  And how it's only going to get colder over the weekend.  And how I need to pull out those gloves because they're so warm, and they have this super soft lining.

And I thought, "It's like fingerbanging a teddy bear."

And then I thought, "Damn, that's funny.  I should put that on Facebook."

But I didn't.  Because there are grandmothers who follow me, and religious people.  And grandmothers who are religious.

Anyway - I shared it with one of my guy friends at work who appreciates it when I go a little blue.

And I'm sharing it with you. 

In hopes that even if you are a religious grandmother, you'll be OK.

You say you want a resolution?

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Great news:  I survived 2013!  I'm not getting t shirts made, or anything, but whew!


So I guess it's time to pony up and talk about 2014.

This year, I'd like to...

1.  Eat better and less.  I think that's a pretty obvious one.  I mean, we know I love food.  If that wasn't clear, please review this post.  But it seems to me it's time to get my shit together, dietarily.

2.  Get moving.  I have a Fitbit that clocks my steps, so it's not like I don't have the data I need to make the changes I need to expend more calories that I take in.

3.  Find a skincare regimen and stick with it.  I've been basically doing nothing with my skin for 39 years.  And it's time for that to change.  I need to start taking care of the carrying case for this carcass.  If anyone has suggestions, I'm listening, but Origins and Aveda are both speaking to me.

4.  Grow my hair long.  I've never really had long hair, so, this year -  let's see what I can do.



5. Plant a fo…