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Showing posts from August, 2014

Homes and Gardens and Shit

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When I'm on the road, I try to catch up on the garbage TV that I don't generally spend time on at home.

Ok, I admit, I love shit like Say Yes to the Dress, What Not To Wear, and pretty much everything on HGTV.

That said, I think HGTV is completely filled with entitled assholes.

House Hunters is a big one in that scope.  At the moment, I watching a hipster couple looking for their first place in Chicago.  He is a photographer that enjoys abandoned, industrial cityscapes.  She's a vegan with wacky hair who works for a non-profit.  She doesn't want an en suite bathroom so she can get ready loudly in the morning.  He hates chandeliers.  That's some specific shit.

I'm nearly 40.  I don't think I have a strong stance on chandeliers.  I think I like them?  I think I want one?



Whatever.  This little wormy looking shitbirds are whining about the granite countertops and having to spend their full budget.  It's Chicago.   You're in your twenties.  Don't ge…

Losing my mind, one hair at a time.

I tend to fixate on little, inconsequential things instead of the huge, big picture things that actually matter.

To wit.  I have been concerned for the past few months that I'm losing hair.  A lot of it.

Now, to be fair, I have tons of hair - but I am becoming hyper-aware of my scalp.

Truthfully it's really fine.  It's not an issue.  If I am actually losing too much hair, it'll grow back once my stress lessens and my diet improves.

And let's be honest, it's the lessening of stress and improved diet that are clutch.  How many times have I said that in the past two years?

And then DONE nothing?

Well, here's the latest.

I spent part of my week in St. Louis,  which is fine and lovely and great.  The last day I was there, my phone and e mail started blowing up over a re-org of my department that got announced out of the blue.

I had a feeling that something was coming, but what the something was remained vague and unknown.

When the announcement came down, it got …

Well, that's substandard.

I woke up at 5AM after some tossing and turning - because I'm at a hotel, and you know how that goes.

My alarm was set for an hour and fifteen minutes later, so I rolled over and went back to sleep.  I woke up again and thought, I wonder how long before the alarm goes off?  I looked at the phone - it was 7:10.  We were set to leave in 20 minutes.

I hauled ass out of bed, took a quick shower, threw on some clothes and made it downstairs in time to choke down some bacon and an English muffin.

There's something to be said for being low-maintenance.  I put on makeup in the car on the way to the client site.  Now, my hair wasn't perfect, but I was reasonably clean and presentable.

I still don't know what happened.  Did I just sleep through the alarm?  Did it never go off?  Did I turn it off and go back to sleep?  I have NO CLUE.

I never oversleep.  Never.  So, this was new territory.  Tonight, I've set my phone with a hugely obnoxious alarm tone.  I'll probably have…

Suppertime, and the livin' is easy...

Sunday night, and I have a big pot of vegetable soup going on the stove.  I can make it in my sleep, and it feels so good to eat it - like a big bowl of healthy.

I feel the same way about gazpacho, but it's been raining and blah all day, so I thought it wasn't exactly a gazpacho kind of night.

My weekend has been pretty basic - a little grocery shopping, a pedicure. Indian food date with Matt yesterday, and a brunch date with a friend this morning.

And a little sleep.  And a trip to the Y.

Tonight I pack, because tomorrow - back in the saddle again - I'm on the road two weeks in a row.

Beyond that, I don't really know.  We're barreling toward fall, and that kind of great, if you want my opinion.  And even if you don't.

That's all I've got.  I'm what you might call boring.

ae

Hard Rain's Gonna Fall

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Once upon a time, when my sister was in Middle School, she brought home a French test that she hadn't done well on.  She had to get it signed, and she left it out for when Dad got home from work (he worked nights).

The next morning, he had signed it, and left a note for Laura telling her not to fret, because her French teacher was "full of merde".  I remember this gleefully.




Dad stuck up for us as kids.  I will never forget that.

What's interesting though, is that when I got to working age, Dad stuck up for management - usually more often than he'd side with me.  Dad was, after all, "The Man".  I'd bitch about some stupid thing at work and he would tell me I was being a pain in my boss's ass.

That frustrated the hell out of me - although I suspect he was usually right.

I'm feeling a little irritated by work - it's not one big thing - just lots of little things that have me feeling unsettled and out of sorts.  I had one meeting today in p…

A body at rest...

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I was walking in from lunch with my friend Jim yesterday and I caught my reflection in a window.  I thought, , "Aw, Jim took a cavewoman to lunch, how nice!"

And not a fun, sexy, badass cavewoman, like this:



No, more like this:




Clearly, I need to do a little more self-care.  I need to lose some weight, deep condition my hair, remember to wear makeup, do more with my wardrobe and see if I can find some sort of clinical treatment for BRF.

BRF?

Yes - Bitchy Resting Face.

Apparently, my neutral expression looks vaguely mean.




And lopsided.  What the hell?  Why am I crooked?


Anyway.  I now have two medical causes I support.  Cankles and BRF.  I will be starting a 5K Fun Run asap.

Actually, I just need to get out there and do 5K, daily.  That might take care of part of the problem.

The Bitchy Resting Face?  Maybe Botox that shit.  Or get an eye lift.  I should Kickstarter to end BRF - one F at a time.

ae

Tears of a Clown

Robin Williams died today at the age of 63 - an apparent suicide.

Facebook is blowing up over it.  I think he was someone everyone would have wanted as a friend.

But people seem surprised that someone that funny could be depressed.

Now, I'm not Robin Williams caliber hilarious, but I'm a reasonably funny woman.

I've also spent a fair amount of my life battling depression.

Never once have I considered not being alive as an alternative to being depressed, but I know that people get there, and they do that.

And just because someone puts on a good front in public, doesn't mean they have it together behind closed doors.

I'm sad for Robin's family and friends who couldn't reach him.  And for everyone who feels like they suffer alone.

We're all in this together.

ae

Pointed Pointlessness

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I'm not traveling this week, but the following two, I'm on the road again - I'm getting very, very close to being a Gold Honors Member with Hilton.  Which basically means more room upgrades (maybe), and free wifi in places that don't already offer it.  And bottled water.  Wheee!


I'll take it.

I'm also close to renewing my A-List status on Southwest. This is actually critical, because it means I still get decent boarding, even if (when) I neglect to check in 24 hours pre-flight.

And I can use these points to get more flights - to places I actually want to go.

It's all good stuff.

This week, though, is about doing laundry, and putting away laundry.  And cooking speckled butter beans and getting some sleep.

And watching some TV.  I hope that Comedy Central's Shart Week is over.  I like poop jokes as much as the next 8 year old, but enough is enough.

In other news, I'm awaiting order from both Lands End and Old Navy.  The latter was delayed because ther…

Shower the people you love with love.

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Based on actual events...

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So, in case you think I save my funny for this blog, I assure you, I'm just as clever and amazing IRL.

Evidenced by this IM conversation I had with Jim yesterday:

think it would be so awesome to be a man.Wed, 4:26 PM whyJim  • Wed, 4:26 PM To pee standing up, to not have to worry about the pill, to have an orgasm every time you have sex, to make more money than women for the same work. Do I need to go on?Wed, 4:27 PM

Variety Pack

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My bruise is healing - it's getting more orangey, like a pretty sunset or nuclear explosion.  It also itches.



I'm trying to limit my sugar intake and finding that challenging.

I found this tacky, racist little gem at the Walgreen's near the office.  So I bought it, thereby perpetuating and fiscally supporting stereotypes:


So, yeah.

I am missing the neighborhood Farmers Market this week, which is a bummer, but not insurmountable.  I spent $171 on groceries this weekend.  That's a lot of groceries.

Actually, it was a lot of meat.  And damn if the price of milk hasn't gone through the roof.

Which reminds me of this:



Good Old Mr. Show.

My team has gotten really loud. I had to send out a nice/funny/pointed e mail this morning about keeping your piehole on mute.  I'm about to crack a few skulls.  Nicely, of course.
Speaking of my team, the other week, one of my colleagues paid me a really backhanded compliment in a meeting.  She did it again today - repeated the sa…

Great Big Stuff

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We're watching a movie that Matt has somehow never seen before... Dirty Rotten Scoundrels.

Which is amazing, given that he's seen so many other movies.

The whole Ruprecht montage was one of Dad's favorites.  And mine, too:


I also love some of the music from the musical based on the movie of the same name.

Pre-cosmetic surgery Steve Martin.   Extremely young Frances Conroy.



What's not to love?


Periodically Amusing

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Here's a confession of sorts.  I love magazines. 

They're so slick and shiny and colorful and full of empty promises of 27 ways to organize your life, or 6 quick, easy no-cook suppers, and what you don't know about Vitamin C that could kill you.

In my elementary school years, I loved getting World Magazine  - the one that National Geographic put out for kids.  I also enjoyed reading Highlights for Kids in the waiting room of doctor's offices.  I still do, actually.  Oh, Goofus and Gallant.  You're tops!

Around 4th grade, when Laura hit middle school, I always got excited about her Seventeen Magazine's back to school issue, filled with impossibly trendy outfits involving plaid skirts and jean jackets and accessories and sweaters and boots and... let's be honest - this chubby kid wasn't going to be doing any of that. But it didn't stop me from reading about zits and boyfriends.

When I hit middle school I fell in love with Sassy.  Ah, Sassy!


Sassy ta…