Sizzle Says

New Home For Sizzle

2007-02-11T17:17:00.000-08:00

I've migrated:

http://sizzlesays.wordpress.com/

It's not exactly what I want but it isn't blogger. For that, I am grateful. I know it's a pain to update your blogroll but if you'd be so kind as to change my link on your blog, I'd appreciate it. Show me you love me by making the effort, mmmkay? ;)

Good-bye Blogger!

The End or The Beginning?

2007-02-11T08:11:00.000-08:00

It looks like Blogger is bullying me into moving over to the "new blogger." When I logged in this morning it threatened me with "you can only do this once" in reference to not signing in using my gmail account and just skipping right to my dashboard. My gigantic fear is that my two years of blog posts will be lost to me once I make the switch. I already "accidentally" used my gmail account to log in once and none of my blog posts followed me there so I've continually signed in with my username and password, purposely avoiding the "new and improved blogger." I have not heard ONE good thing about the change.

So let's hope this isn't my last blog post.

I promise to find my way back to you. I'd miss you too much.

It's Not Going to Be Pretty

2007-02-09T07:21:00.000-08:00

I'm self-diagnosing but I am pretty sure that I am a sugar addict.

Admitting is the first step, right?

So after Sunday's post and some more soul searching, I've decided to bite the bullet and enter sugar detox. I've been researching and picking people's brains (smart people with varying views) about it. This week, each day, I've tried to make smart choices. Maybe for the first time in my life I am not seeking perfection, rather I just want to do better.

I know I can do better.

This got me thinking: Why is it that offices are a breeding ground for crap food? It's like we all want to bring in the candy, the cupcakes, the cookies, and homemade breads so it gives us permission to over-indulge. The other day it was a co-worker's birthday and someone brought in cupcakes though the package called them "fun cakes." It was 3:30pm and I was craving a pick me up and those stupid fun cakes were taunting me. Instead of eating one (because really, they didn't look that great and frankly, if they aren't Cupcake Royale cupcakes, forget it) I emailed my friend berating the offending cupcakes and bemoaning their hold over me.

I've had a headache since yesterday but I haven't felt as hungry. I feel full before I've eaten my entire lunch. This could very well be the first step I've been looking for. Too bad I timed it with my PMS. Awesome fun for everyone within a mile of me. I've told my co-workers I'll stick a warning label on when it gets really bad.

"Warning: Sugar Addict. Day 3 of Detox. Do Not Taunt or Unwrap Reese's Peanut Butter Cups Within 10 Steps of Her."

"Ah Sugar, oh honey, honey. . .you were my candy, girl and you've got me wanting you."

Use Thought Wisely, Still

2007-02-08T07:53:00.000-08:00

Before I reveal my answers (don't cheat and scroll down!), I have an important announcement.

Today marks the two year anniversary of my very first blog post.

(Please put on your party hat.)

I've never celebrated my blog anniversary but there's something poignant about this year. I've come a long way- not just in physical distance (Santa Cruz to Seattle) but internally too. Sure, I am not where I want to be but I'm learning to face life's challenges with more panache. The best part of blogging, for me, is not just the catharsis of sharing my feelings and experiences but sharing it with all of you. I don't know where in the hell you all came from and most of you I have never met face to face but every damn day I am SO grateful for you. Thanks for coming here. For listening. For sharing your thoughts. For being my friend.

(End Sentimentality.)

Now here's what you've all been waiting for- the answers to my true/false stories. . .

1.) TRUE. She really did have fake teeth and she really did scramble to put them in. Do you think I got this crazy all on my own? Votes: 6

2.) TRUE. And, uh, while bathing the dog, he suddenly jumped at her in her nakedness. When his paw hit her breast she thought, quite possibly, that he had ripped off her unclothed nipple because it sure as shit felt like it. Her unclothed nipple! Did your nipple just feel sympathy pain? Uh huh. Mine too. Votes: 10

3.) TRUE. And here I thought that 179 responses in one hour was impressive. Pshaw! Apparently not. But yeah, I did it. I was that bored. Those lonely, horny men? They also aren't so smart- they send cell phone numbers and pictures of their, uh, members without knowing who in the hell you are. Hmm, that'd make an interesting post... (P.S. Does this mean I have a "rep" now? Sweet!) Votes: 7

4.) TRUE. The Flatulence Offender is the same lady as the Teeth Lady in #1. Yeah, I have no problem talking to her without running to my cubicle to laugh. Or to throw up. Votes: 1

5.) FALSE. It wasn't me who came upon them, it was my neighbor though my memory has recreated the scene so vividly that I feel like I was there. And they weren't having intercourse, rather she was blowing him. I still firmly believe that safer sex is really important. That's why I carry condoms with me all the time. Ahem. Votes: 0

True or False?

2007-02-07T08:39:00.000-08:00

Snackie told me I should, so I am.

There are four "stories" here. One is not true. Can you guess which?

1.) I once walked into a coworker's office to ask her an innocent, work-related question. She scrambled to grab something off her desk as I entered. I tried to not look but it was distracting. My eyes darted down in time to see her teeth in her hand. I had no idea she wore fake teeth, let alone that she took them out while working at her desk. I took that opportunity to quickly divert my gaze out the window and comment on the weather. She acted breezy and answered my question quickly.

I have still not really recovered.

2.) While on the phone the other night, my friend told me she bathes her dog in just a thong because he splashes too much and her clothes end up soaking wet.

That's just in her underwear.

3.) I once posted in the Casual Encounters section of Craig's List. I was bored on a Friday night and wanted to see how many responses I would get. All it said was "How do you want it?" with a photo of breasts- in a bra, mind you. No face shown.

I got 179 responses within one hour. There are a lot of lonely, horny men out there.

4.) I was in the public restroom at work the other day when someone came in and entered the stall next to me. They made quite a fuss with the toilet seat cover and the unzipping and the pulling down of underpants and what I could only discern as support hose. I heard peeing and then "pttttttttthhhhhhhhhhh." Then silence. Then more loud farting. So of course I rushed to get out of there before I would be forced to come face to face with the Flatulence Offender and have to pretend that I didn't want to laugh.

Clearly, I am an 11 year old boy.

5.) Back in college I came across a young couple as I made my way up a remote staircase that led to my street and house. They were in the middle of coitus. The girl ducked her head, averting her face from me but the young buck looked me straight in the eye and said, "Hey, how's it going?" as if they were just doing their homework or something.

I almost offered them a condom. Safer sex is really important.

The truth will be revealed in tomorrow's post!

So What Next?

2007-02-06T07:03:00.000-08:00

How do I follow my last post?

After unburdening my load on you, my initial reaction is to write something funny and light. I'm good at funny and light. Funny and light has saved many an uncomfortable situation for me over the years. But I don't have any fluff to share with you. Writing that post took a lot out of me. Normally, I am pretty open about sharing "my stuff" but for some reason this one . . . it's all encompassing. Feeling like I don't belong in my own body- how does one escape that? You just don't. So you talk about it on your blog and hope to god you can do something proactive about it.

I really have to DO something now, don't I?

I'm trying not to over-plan it though, you know me, over-planning is my forte. If I don't take baby steps I am likely to fail and then kick myself more. Enough with the kicking! I've always struggled to understand what comes first- do I lose weight and then I love myself or do I love myself and then I lose weight? I'm not a gambler so I've always hovered in the middle with a combo pack of weight loss and self-love. But I think the trick is being able to love yourself all the time, not in spite of what you look like or because of what you look like or when you are your most thin. Those kinds of conditions only alienate you from yourself. And like I said, I want to feel like I belong in my own body.

All of your comments were so touching to read. Your support is so heartfelt. I can't thank you enough for listening and responding. One message I heard loud and clear is that we're all walking around with our own struggles. Even when we feel most alone, we aren't. Thank you for that.

At The Door

2007-02-04T11:22:00.000-08:00

I was reading The Book of Awakening today and this spoke to me:

"Stranger still is how the very core issues we avoid return sometimes with different faces, but still we are brought full circle to them, again and again. Regardless of how we may try to skip over or sidestep what we need to face, we humbly discover that no other threshold is possible until we use our courage to open the door before us. Perhaps the oldest working truth of self-discovery is that the only way out is through. That we are returned repeatedly to the same circumstance is not always a sign of avoidance, but can mean our work around a certain issue is not done.

The thresholds go nowhere. It is we who, in our readiness and experience, keep coming back, because the soul knows only one way to fulfill itself, and that is to take in what is true."

-Mark Nepo

Ten years ago, I walked through the door. I said to myself, enough of prettying the outside of this entrance, it is time to enter. That door I opened and walked through? My first successful attempt at self-acceptance and self-love. Having recently broken up with my boyfriend of a year plus, I stopped smoking pot, stopped eating crap and actually exercised (and liked it). The result was the shedding of 60 + pounds. I was entirely focused on myself. And within that focus, a more confident, attractive me emerged. As the years have passed, I've gained the weight back and along the way, lost sight of that confidence.

People who meet me think I am confident. I am told this all the time. It's ironic because inside I'm thinking about all the ways I could be rejected. And all those reasons for the imagined rejection? My weight. Not my stubborn streak. Not my bossiness. Not my anal list making and over-organizing. Not my ability to give unsolicited advice. Not my moodiness with peaks of complete hermiting. None of that. Just. My. Fat.

I walk into every situation worried that I will be seen as incompetent because I am heavy. That I will be seen as not worth getting to know because I carry extra weight. That people will think about how I would be attractive "if only" I lost weight. I've been told that before. These fears are not unfounded. I overanticipate situations because I want to be able to hold it together. I don't want to run to the bathroom crying because someone made a joke about fat people. I don't want to be caught off guard by someone's disapproving look. I don't want to not fit in the chair or booth at the restaurant. I don't want to go get a massage at a spa and have the robe not fit. I actually waste time thinking about these things! Writing this, I realize I am more guarded then I thought. I wonder if I come off as guarded? I must or else I am a really good actress.

There are many things I don't do because I worry what people will think of my size. If I am walking around alone or if I go out to eat by myself, I am convinced people are thinking how sad it is that the fat girl is all alone and maybe if she ate more vegetables she'd lose weight and not be so sad. I eat a lot of vegetables. Vegetable consumption is not my problem. And the irony is probably no one is thinking these things or if they are, they are fleeting thoughts. What does it matter what they are thinking? I'm completely overly concerned about what everyone thinks about me. If they think I am fat, they wouldn't be wrong. I wear a size 18/20.

Do you know how scary that just was to type that number? That number somehow defines how attractive I am in my own mind. Maybe in yours too.

I am tired of holding myself prisoner in my own body. I am tired of carrying around this built in excuse to never be MORE than I am. I am sick to death of the excuses I make for not trying. I am really fucking annoyed with myself that I have let it go on so long. This is about wanting to belong... to belong inside my own body.

So I see the door this time. My hand is on the door knob. The key is unlocking the dead bolt. I'm poised to walk through. I have no idea what will happen once I cross the threshold but the time has come.

"There is no substitute for genuine risk." -Mark Nepo

Turn It Off!

2007-02-02T07:10:00.000-08:00

I hate the song "Big Girls Don't Cry."

My loathing really makes no logical sense. It doesn't matter that the song is not about fat girls who need to buck up and not shed a tear. As a child I somehow got it into my head that that was the hidden meaning behind the song. To my credit, the lyrics are somewhat vague but reading them now, as an adult, it's clear that the guy in the song was dumped by a "mature/grown up" girl (aka "big girl") who said she didn't cry but then (silly girl) it turns out she lied and cried in her bed.

It's really a lyrical masterpiece.

This must be part of the aftermath of growing up as a chubby child. You hear a song with the word "big" in it and think "big" means fat and then internalize it as a message that you aren't allowed to cry even though people may be mean to you because you are chubby and can't wear Esprit jeans. Whatever the point of the inane song, it conjures negative feelings inside me and whenever I hear it I have to turn the song off immediately. If you sing or hum or whistle this tune around me, you are putting your life on the line.

What song do you have to turn off because it makes you cringe inside? What's your story?

*Thanks Hilly for the inspiration.

Pardon Me

2007-02-01T07:24:00.000-08:00

I've been noticing more and more that people lack manners. Forget the thank you card. That's obsolete. Holding the door for someone is few and far between. Saying "thank you" and "excuse me" are probably more common but not as much as is warranted. And you can just forget about eye contact. It's probably not gonna happen.

I have a friend (I use that term loosely) who completely lacks the ability to engage people in conversation. He doesn't ask the person he is talking to questions about themselves. Conversations with him either consist of him going on and on about himself or silence unless you ask prompter questions or resort to going on and on about yourself. Once when we were out to dinner with a couple (a husband and wife, the husband being one of his best friends), he sat directly across from the wife, next to me and kitty-corner from his best friend. I swear he hardly looked at her the entire meal while he went on and on and on. Instead, he looked over at his friend and spoke to him, occasionally looking sideways at me but frankly I didn't care if he looked at me because then he'd see how bored I was. I'd heard all his stories and wasn't particularly amused by them the first time I sat through them. Later, I mentioned to the wife how he never looked at her and she just shrugged saying that's how he is. How he is is kinda r-u-d-e.

This guy is also a cheapskate- the worst kind of cheapskate. He'll be sure to mention how much money he's been saving up but then never makes a gesture to pick up the tab. Or he'll invite me out to see a movie but by that he means, you buy your own ticket (even if I have covered his portion enough to warrant at least one friggen movie ticket). His friend, the husband I've mentioned, he's a generous guy and often will pick up the tab when we all go out. I'm always surprised and thankful and I offer to pay my way, the tip or to pick up the dessert/the movie/the drinks depending on what we are doing next. I feel it's proper etiquette to offer (and mean it). What do you think?

And what's your biggest peeve with manners?

Let's Give 'Em Something to Talk About

2007-01-31T08:26:00.000-08:00

You've probably heard the rumors. Let me just give you the low down here and now. Yes, it is indeed true that Karl, the man behind Secondhand Tryptophan, is indeed coming to visit me for a week in Seattle in March post- TequilaCon '07. Yes, it is indeed true that, for those of you who know me well and particularly those of you who have stayed with me for my general maximum of three days and two nights, know darn well that a week long visit is unheard of in my world. Every time I have mentioned that Karl is visiting and that he is staying a week I am confronted with shock and awe. "An entire week!? You!?" Good Lord people, can't a girl try to turn over a new leaf. It is, after all, a brand new year.

In an effort to prepare Karl for his visit, I prepared a list of warnings. I felt it is only fair and my duty as the Hostess With the Mostest (who is also, cute as a cupcake, I might add). I thought I'd share them with you. This will save a step if you ever decide to visit me.

Sizzle Warnings:

I tend to burn my eggs 3 out of 5 days of the week. I still eat them though.
I talk to my cats and ask their advice on things. I might do the same to you but don't feel left out if I don't ask your opinion on what I should wear to work that day.
Right now's about the time I should tell you I usually change my outfit a minimum of two times before I head out the door.
I wake up early and alert and I don't drink coffee. But I have to have tea or else I feel ... off.
The guy above me teaches/plays guitar. He's pretty good as musicians go and you eventually get used to hearing them practice.
I hate wearing a bra when I am home. And socks. I don't like wearing socks. Be forewarned I won't be wearing a bra or socks while in the apartment.
My apartment is the first one by the front door. You hear the buzzer and people coming and going. If you are nosy by nature, this could be a good thing for you.
I don't like having all the lights on when I am home. I light candles a lot and this does not mean that I am making romantic overtures (necessarily).
I do not have Tivo. I apologize in advance for this deficiency.
I usually go to bed by 11:00 and most of the time have to read before falling asleep.
My cats may or may not wake you up at 5:30am by either a) sitting on your legs/chest/back and purring loudly, b) licking your eyelid or c) pawing at the covers to make you lift it so they can cuddle underneath. I cannot control them. They control me. They will likely control you.
I really hate when toothpaste or hairs are left in the bathroom sink. Or when the bath mat is soaked because someone didn't towel off in the shower before stepping out.
Please don't leave your soggy towel on my bed, the floor, a chair or crumpled in a ball by the toilet.
I possibly snore but I hear it is endearing and/or cute.
I have a pull out couch that probably isn't that comfortable. It doesn't come with memory foam.
The toilet paper roll is not to be used in its entirety and then left for me to find while I am already sitting on the toilet. And when you replace it, please make sure it comes over the top, not from underneath. Let me repeat: Not. From. Underneath.
There are three shows I feel compelled to watch: American Idol (hey! I saw you cringe!), The Office, and Lost. As long as I don't have to watch talk shows, sports or movies/TV shows with Jennifer Love Hewitt or Carrot Top, we'll get along fine.
It's ok to be quiet and do your own thing just not to the point where I start to feel uncomfortable and I start wondering if you are having a horrible time and really wish you could leave already.
I really do enjoy doing the dishes so when I say it's ok, I'll wash the dishes, I mean it sincerely and am not being passive aggressive.
It's more than ok if you make yourself at home, help yourself to food, kick off your shoes but manners are very much welcomed.

Karl's reply was something like, "Sure, send me this after I booked the ticket." I am pretty sure he is still coming for the visit though.

Get Lifted

2007-01-30T07:53:00.000-08:00

My male readers will likely not understand the importance of today's subject matter but I'm betting they won't mind since there is, after all, a picture of a woman in her bra to distract them.

I am here to say to the blogosphere that the right fitting bra WILL indeed change your life. I always thought I knew what wearing a great fitting bra felt like until I met this one. It's sort of like how married people always say, "I just knew" when they are talking about their husband/wife. I never understood that sentiment and to tell the truth, resented whomever uttered such sappy romanticism to me. . . until now. Sure, I thought it'd be a man who changed my mind but I'm betting my relationship with my new bra will last longer knowing my history with guys.

Scene: Sizzle arrives at work. Co-worker stops by her cubicle to say hello.

Co-worker (cheerfully): "Good morning! How are you?"

Sizzle (giddy): "I'm great! I am in love with my new bra."

Co-worker (eyeing Sizzle's ample rack): "My oh my, I can see why. The girls, they are so perky."

Sizzle (not thinking it at all weird that her co-worker is staring intently at her breasts, tries to refrain from whipping off her shirt to show the world her new love): "It's sooo comfortable. I think I might live in it. And buy one in every color."

Co-worker (decidedly): "That's it, I'm getting one for myself. I want to feel the love!"

Ladies, if you are walking around in the world in a bra that doesn't make you 100% happy, you need to break up with that bra and go shopping for a new one. If you have not been measured for a bra, do it! You'll be surprised. Too many women are walking around in ill fitting bras. Some of you are sagging. Some of you are constantly yanking down the back. Some of you are distractedly pushing the straps back up. Some of you, well, your cup runneth over. Trust me on this. Your clothes will fit better. You will stand taller. You will think you dropped 10 lbs. You too can fall in love with your bosom. Go on, get lifted!

I'm Delicate

2007-01-29T07:30:00.000-08:00

It was around 10pm last night that I started to think about food. It wasn't that I was hungry. It was more about the fact that I wasn't allowed to have anything but water past 9pm. I thought about popcorn. Then about cocoa. Then about the yummy banana muffins I had made the day before. Being denied something sure can make it all the more tempting. I kept drinking water because it is all I am allowed. I have convinced myself it tastes like soap. All of this for the blood draw today for this health study my office is participating in. I have some trepedations about giving blood.

High school was the first and only time that I gave blood. I was trying to do the good samaritan kind of thing and it, uh, kinda backfired on me. I remember lying on the bed with my sleeve rolled up. Some of my fellow students were "helpers" and stood around chatting me up to keep my mind off the fact that blood was leaving my body and filling a plastic bag. (It didn't work.) After a minute or so, I tried to tell them I felt funny as they chatted on about the day's assembly and how Mona wears her skirt too short (she did, it's true) but they were oblivious (and really sucky at their job). Next thing I know, I'm being slapped awake by the scariest teacher in the entire school. She couldn't really help being scary. It was sad that her face was slack on one side from a stroke. (Or was it from a car accident? There was a rumor she lost her fiance in a horrible car accident that disfigured her. Doesn't that sound like a rumor? It can't be true.) Her scary face so close to mine was frightening enough to jolt me upright. They gave me a cookie and some juice and told me to visit the nurse. I think I ended up going home for the day. Turns out both my parents aren't able to give blood for similar reasons. I guess it isn't in our blood. (Heh.)

I've been promised that today's blood draw won't have the same effect and that they are only taking a little bit. All I know is, I damn well better get a cookie. I'm skipping breakfast afterall!

****************
Update at 4:30pm: No fainting. No cookie. No fair!

Love

2007-01-27T16:16:00.000-08:00

Compulsive or Just Organized?

2007-01-26T06:29:00.000-08:00

Email. Remember when there wasn't email? Wow. Now I feel old. Moving on...There was a time when I wasn't consumed with checking my computer for new messages. That would be the time I didn't have a computer. It doesn't help that I work at a desk on a computer for the greater part of the day. I've noticed that people seem to have their own method, if you will, for dealing with email. I'm curious to know if I am in the minority or the majority, so please put in your two cents. (My answers are in red.)

1. How often do you check email?

Constantly. I get excited if I am away from the computer for awhile because I hope that my in box will be full of new delights. I cry on the inside if I check my email and there are no messages.

2. What do you do with your emails after you have read them?

a) sort them into folders (so I can later maliciously delete them in a fit of rage, heh)

b) delete them

c) leave them in your in box for weeks (maybe months) (maybe years)

3. How long is too long to keep a message in your in box without replying? Is there a statue of limitations on such things?

I try to answer emails in a timely manner (re: the same day I receive them). Usually I am not the person who stops the emailing chain. I've had a couple of emails sitting in my in box for a month now. They are from people I like but don't talk to that often and as each week passes I wonder if I should answer or forget it because the reply would be quite lengthy. Then the guilt sets in. That's why I leave them in the in box so they can taunt me over and over and over again. I figure if you haven't responded to my email within 2 weeks, you hate me. You hate me, don't you? I knew it!

4. What is your stance on forwards?

a) I loathe them and harbor ill will towards those who send them.

b) I will read them but I rarely send them.

c) I only enjoy them if it's a quiz. I'm a sucker for quizzes.

P.S. I'm operating at 85% today which is a far cry better than the 28% I've been working with the past few days. Thanks for all your well wishes!

L Is For The Way You Look At Me

2007-01-24T17:29:00.001-08:00

I spent 10 hours in bed on Tuesday. The only time I spoke was to call in sick to work and to order Indian food. I tried going into work yesterday but they sent me home. I guess leaving the house without make up really is bad. I felt like I was getting better last night but woke up again with a severely stiff neck and sore throat. Oddly enough, the soreness is on the outside, not inside the throat. My glands are swollen and occasionally I'll hack something up or blow my nose. Gross. I know. But I really do think there is validity to the whole emotional connection to illness. Monday night was a rough one, emotionally speaking, for me. Soon after my symptoms appeared. Coincidence? I think not.

Being home sick gives a girl too much time to think but I guess that's what I need to do. I know that sometimes I allude to things here but I can't always tell the whole story- not for my sake but for the sake of those I care about. I'm usually pretty direct but I don't like hurting people unnecessarily (though some might disagree with that). When I mentioned that my integrity was lodged in my throat it was because I was feeling guilty for having made a promise and not kept it. I pride myself on saying what I mean and doing what I say, on being as honest and authentic as I can be, on treating others with kindness and thoughtfulness. In this particular instance, I was putting off saying what I thought might be hurtful and instead, hurt them anyhow. It's really a long, complicated tale with a very un-fairytale-like ending that maybe someday I'll tell you about.

Here's what I have come to understand: You can put everything you have into loving someone and it can still fall apart. But just because it didn't end up the way you'd hoped doesn't make it all a lie. The heart's truth can change just like people do.

And sometimes, as much as it might break your heart, the only way to love someone is to let them go.

Maybe Next They Will Build An Ark?

2007-01-24T07:17:00.000-08:00

Their Christmas Tree is still up.

So much for the excuse that they might be celebrating The Epiphany.

Thirty days people. Thirty. Days. It's time to let Christmas go.

Say Aaaahhhh

2007-01-23T07:08:00.000-08:00

Do you believe that emotions can cause physical reactions in our bodies? I came home from work yesterday feeling a bit blue but not at all sick. Come 7pm the glands in my throat were swollen and I had no appetite. I stared at the TV to numb out but then finally just went to bed to sleep it off. I woke up at 1:44am, 3:12am, 4:18am, 6:03am and 6:54am. I laid there contemplating calling in sick. I have two meetings and a talk to give. I can't honestly imagine opening my mouth and speaking.

For a woman who normally is not at a loss for words, I find myself without words to properly explain the situation I have found myself in. Just know that sometimes emotional situations can occur and result in a physical manifestation. Like when words fail you, a lump appears in your throat and you discover that not talking is the only cure. I'm going back to bed to fitfully wonder if there is a way to remove my integrity from my throat. And to drink some tea because tea cures most things.

"I want to know what you're thinking...

2007-01-22T07:36:00.000-08:00

There are some things you can't hide/I want to know what you're feeling/Tell me what's on your mind. . ."

Some new questions have come in. Like I said, you ask and I will answer honestly.

Neil inquires: If you were stuck on a desert island, would you rather have a Bible written in German, a laptop that only had Excel installed, or just one slice of pizza from the best pizzeria in Brooklyn?

This is going to tell A LOT about me but I promised honesty. I would definitely go for the pizza. I hate Excel and don't speak German. Besides, it's PIZZA. Hello!? The memory of its deliciousness can drive me insane for months to come. And we all know how I love to torture myself.

Neil also asks: Have you ever been tempted to call up an old boyfriend to see if the sparks are still there?

Neil, Neil, Neil- do you know me that little? Come on my friend. Let's be real. You and I (and the blogosphere) know that I HAVE done that and will likely do it again in the future.

Baja Babe wants to know: What kind of man do you WANT to date?

Funny you should ask because I have quite the list posted in my house to remind me! I wouldn't mind keeping the humor, sarcasm, self-deprecation, artistic talents and even a smidge of depression or melancholy or mild moodiness but the emotionally stunted communicators and passive aggressives can learn to love from some other lady. I'm done teaching! I'm looking for a fella who is thoughtful, generous for the sake of being generous, has integrity, manners, passion and character, who at the very least knows his issues and can discuss them without hiding or blaming or being a general dicktard, a man who can be there for me as my biggest fan, strongest ally and inspiration. Is that too much to ask?

Karl inquires: What fun and exciting things will we do when I'm in Seattle?

Do we actually have to leave the apartment? Heh. No, no. In all seriousness, there are scads of cool things to do here. We have so much to offer the out of town visitor and I'm not just referring to the Space Needle. I bet you're going to want to visit the SciFi Museum since you are such an adorable geek. There are ferry rides, Pike Place Market, all the cool parks and lakes and places to see. . .Are you sure a week is long enough?

Gorillabuns delves deep and makes me think by asking: Even if we have everything we thought we ever wanted... do you think people as a whole, are happy with the cards that are dealt to them? a.k.a. the silver lining?

I guess that questions supposes that I believe cards are dealt to people. Do we make our lives or do our lives make us? Interesting question. I think that perspective plays a large part in whether a person is happy or not. I believe the grass always seems greener on the other side but it's actually just the vantage point that makes it appear so. It's really the same lawn! So the best we can do is to live our best lives from moment to moment and try to be as authentic in our pursuit of happiness as we can without settling for status quo. We all deserve to live our dream. (Does that even answer your question?)

One For the Books

2007-01-21T08:23:00.000-08:00

Mike and I traveled on the periphery of each other's lives until one night when he joined some friends and attended a party at my house. It was then, while we sat outside by the pool on a bench as the others were inside, that I really saw him. Of course, it was mostly because I rescued him from a spider crawling near his head while he tried unsuccessfully not to freak out but nonetheless, a friendship was born. A while later we would fall in love.

It's rare in this life to find a person who truly loves you unconditionally that isn't related to you by blood. Mike is the person who taught me by example about selflessness and true love. He shows me time and again with his integrity that good men do exist. He'll also, without question, slash the tires of anyone who wrongs me- so don't get on my bad side. Heh. He is, to this day, one of two men I've dated for over a year which is significant given my 6 month max out on relationships. And he is also one of my very best friends.

When I think about Mike now there are no lingering regrets for the love affair we once had. I can remember vividly the time he blared Frank Sinatra from his car radio while parked along West Cliff Drive, the ocean tide playing back up to this moonlight serenade, as we danced in the light of the headlights in celebration my birthday. He was a wonderful boyfriend. People often raise an eyebrow when they hear we used to date and are now such good friends- even weirder are the looks when we were housemates for two years. . . "You mean, it isn't weird with you guys?" they ask suspiciously. Um, no. If you saw us together you'd get it. It's actually quite fantastic this friendship we have created. And now? I get to see him happy and in love with a truly perfect woman for him. The fact that I had a little hand in introducing them makes it all the more special for me.

He's a good egg- humble and generous, compassionate and thoughtful (when he remembers- he has a horrible memory), sarcastic and witty, sensitive and romantic, loyal and independent, intelligent and a very talented writer. You can see for yourself here. You can go one farther and vote. It is, afterall, his birthday today. Let's show my good friend some love, shall we?

Happy Birthday Mikey! I love you.
XO,
Sizz

Leave Your List At The Door

2007-01-20T08:47:00.000-08:00

I've been feeling edgy lately. At work, I have trouble focusing. It's like I am back in college when I had a big paper due. Instead of tackling the paper straight on, I would accomplish all sorts of other, not-as-important tasks. My closet would be organized. My toilet scrubbed. My box of photos chronologically put in order. I'd make my bed. Do a load of laundry. Make tea and bake banana bread from scratch. And then. . . with 12 or 8 or 5 hours to spare, I'd get down to the real business at hand.

I do this with my life, not just with projects that have due dates. But I wonder, when you have a self-imposed "due date" does it still count? Lately, I've been trying to not be SO structured. Lists are nice. Accomplishing everything on my list is a secret joyous feeling. . . but why? What do all those tasks crossed off mean to me? That I have purpose? That I am not wasting my time?

I'm horribly bad at relaxing. Like even if I am home on a Friday night I will still multitask. This bothers me immensely because my inability to relax keeps me too over-connected, too "on," too pent up, too inhibited. And multitasking just isn't what it used to be. It actually keeps me from enjoying one thing at a time. It makes me feel scattered and discombobulated. What I am saying is: I want to cut loose of it and be free.

Today there is no list. There are phone dates with Santa Cruz friends. There is lunching at one of my favorite restaurants and painting pottery with my BFF. There will be fun. And by golly I WILL feel relaxed! (Does declaring that make me less of a relaxing type person? Ooops. I thought it might. Baby steps.)

WTF Friday

2007-01-19T07:02:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since we had a WTF Friday here in Sizzleland. I've included a flattering picture of Darwin from American Idol because if anyone is the epitome of WTF, she is. I seriously didn't need reminding that going out of the house without a bra on when your cup runneth over is NOT OK. E-V-E-R. Ahem!

Here's one I have been pondering though: Every night as I walk home from my car to my apartment building, I pass a house that is beautifully decorated. I tend to take an extra look at the inside of houses if I can peer in. I know it's kind of Peeping Tom of me but I love to see how people choose to decorate. It can both fascinate and horrify me. This house is tastefully done thankfully- painted in soothing colors with well placed furniture. . .except THEY STILL HAVE THEIR CHRISTMAS TREE UP.

This bothers me immensely.

What day is it? Oh right, it's JANUARY 19th, 2007. Twenty-five entire days since Christmas came and went. I feel this is far too long to keep your tree up. Being lazy is one thing but come on! I'm going to have to avert my eyes from now on because: The Horror! WTF people? WTF?!

Yesterday I was emailing with my friend and she asked me, "What do I do?!?" And I said, "I can't tell you what to do! Though, how great would it be if everyone just let me organize their ENTIRE life?! My dream come true." Wouldn't it be cool to be a professional organizer plus life coach all in one? My heart just skipped a beat at the thought. Ohhh! I'd love it so! I'm already taking on a new profession as of late. Hillz calls me "Dr. Jones" and I have to say, I quite like how that sounds. I'm a surgeon for emotional cancers. Do you have someone in your life that is metaphorically a malignant tumor on your soul/heart/psyche? Call Dr. Jones! I'll slice him/her right out and you will be on your way to recovery. Luckily, minimal schooling is required for such licensing. It's more intuitive and street smart savvy with a big ol' dose of tough love, if you will.

For those who are wondering where this Jones business comes from, it is indeed my last name. That's all your getting out of me! Anonymity is key. As is discretion. Let's proceed as if nothing has changed in Sizzleland, shall we?

Your Questions Get Answered

2007-01-18T07:56:00.000-08:00

Thanks for all your inquiries! Wow, these questions ran the gamut. It was interesting and thought provoking- thanks. It's not too late to submit your questions if you feel so inclined. Just remember (as this post goes on and on) you asked! Here we go...

Java Jabber wants to know: Are you a crafter? What hobbies do you do?
I am crafty, it's true. Lately I've been back into beading jewelry, making pins out of felt (ask Alissa, I just sent her a bird and a cupcake), knitting (scarves mostly but I want to learn how to make hats), some minimal charcoal drawing, the occasional home improvement (painted my kitchen) and am in the process of learning to sew so I can revolutionize the fashion world for chubbettes.

Asp strikes a sensitive spot by asking: Have you seriously thought about going to see a therapist with all of your ongoing problems with your self esteem issues and your needing a man to complete your life?
I have been to therapy off and on for many years but since moving to Seattle, have not located a therapist. It's true, I struggle with loving myself and with my relationships with men. It's funny though, had I written a blog ten years ago, you'd likely think me certifiable. I've come incredibly far and am quite proud of the internal work I have done on myself. This blog is an outlet for my life but it is no way all encompassing of my life. Take what you read with a grain of salt, please and don't suppose you know me so well. Anyone who has ever met me in real life would never believe I feel I need a man in my life to complete it. I actually laughed reading that since it is so far from my own reality. Self-esteem issues I have in spades though.

Catheroo ponders: What was the last CD you bought/mp3 you downloaded?
The last cd I purchased was The Detroit Cobras, "Baby" from iTunes. The last mp3 I downloaded was Ben Folds, "Evaporated."

Claire asks: What inspires you? What do you draw strength/courage from? What sort of women's self defense did you teach and how did you get into that?
I taught a form of women's self-defense that borrowed from different kinds of martial arts to make it simpler for women to learn basic, effective physical and verbal techniques to ward off an attacker. I studied for a year and then taught for some 8 years. The most empowering part of teaching was seeing women who never had yelled in their life or maybe even stood up for themselves, yell "NO!" The look on their faces was incredibly rewarding. They finally believed in their own power! It was awesome. It certainly inspired me at the time. I draw inspiration from the people in my life- particularly the volunteers I work with because so many of them generously give of their time and talents to the foster kids. Seeing people want to give back, to do good in the world, always inspires me. My friends and family are definitely my source of courage and strength.

Melissa wonders: How did your family pick Seattle as it's new home?
Hmm, good question- one I am not particularly sure of the answer. Since first visiting Seattle some 8 years ago, I've loved this city. It's been on the top of my list of where to move since then and it took me that long (and a nephew) to get myself here. My sis and her hubby visited Seattle on their honeymoon and fell in love with this magnificent place. Since they lived here and were the ones having a kid, my mom and I said, "What the hell! Let's go!" And so here I am and soon to follow comes my mom. We're tight like that.

Bone gets sappy on me and asks: What is your happiest memory?
Gosh, I really have so many. Recently, I'd have to say some of my happiest memories are: watching my nephew Finn be born, feeling all the love from my Santa Cruz friends when I moved, laughing until I cried with Hillz and Tomato (separately but equally as enjoyable), laying on the beach in Tulum, Mexico last Christmas and whenever the last time I hit a pinata (I love pinatas!). (P.S. Bone? Love the sap factor. Sincerely.)

Snackie wants to know: Which blogger would you like to switch lives with for one day?
I've never thought about that. Even on my worst days, I never want to get out of my life. But, for kicks, I'd say (out of the bloggers I read which is limited) I'd most want to switch with Sandra because I want to see what it's like to live in the Big Apple. I've never been there but have always wanted to visit. Plus, you know, she's all kinds of fabulous.

G-man goes for the hard hitting question: Do you believe in life after death?
The simplest answer to that very deep question is: Yes.

Tomato, of course, asks me some huge question: What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?
Leave it to you to ask this. Damn you! Right now the answer I feel is most true is to go into business for myself. I'd love to start Chubby Girl Revolution and change the way women feel about their bodies.

Leave it to Dave2 to ask me a wardrobe question: What are you planning on wearing to TequilaCon?
Well Dave, it's funny you should ask. I was JUST eyeing this fabulous little red dress. But if you're already planning on wearing a red dress, I'll go for something different. But definitely something that shows cleavage. Is that ok?

Sandra, clearly on drugs, asks: How does it feel, being so fabulous? :)
Oh shucks, I really wouldn't know.

Diane demonstrates that she and I will have plenty to discuss over sushi on Saturday by asking: You alluded to a college documentary in an e-mail to me--I want to hear more about this, what you studied in school, and why. Also, what was your toughest subject in school?
I was a Women's Studies/Literature major. Why? Because I love writing and books and being a kickass chick. Of course there is more to it but that's the quick answer. By far, my toughest subject in school was Statistics. Why? Because I detest math. I took that damn class twice and got incompletes both times (maybe all those times I skipped class to drink coffee and smoke cloves wasn't so smart?). I finally had to take Oceanography for my "quantitative" credits in college. At least then I could study dolphins and stuff.

JustRun, who makes delicious soup, wants to know: If you had to pick one food to live on for the rest of your life, what would it be?
I'm gonna have to go for sushi.

Alissa, my internet soul sister, needs to know: Where you got your fabulous snow boots? I adore them and have snow, therefore could use some cute snow boots.
Technically they are for rain because they aren't as warm as they need to be for snow but they are superduper cute, you're right. You'll have to ask my Mom. She gave them to me for Christmas. Mom?

Bullyse doesn't beat around the bush: I would like to know: If you had to typify or explain, what kind of guy is it that you find yourself attracted to?
Good Lord woman! This is a very charged question for me right now. :) Ok, typifying, I'd have to say that I tend to date men who are humorous, self-deprecating, sarcastic, artistic (writers, musicians, painters), and who struggle with depression. Bonus points for passive aggressives and emotionally stunted communicators. Heh.

Opening Myself Up

2007-01-17T07:01:00.000-08:00

Oftentimes, I get asked a question in my comments that probably other people were wondering themselves. Sometimes I answer the question directly when I have the person's email or I might go back in and leave a response in the comment section. It got me thinking. . .Maybe you have a question you've wanted to ask me but haven't. Maybe you've been wondering something about me, my life, my quirks and you'd like to ask me. Do you need follow up on a former post? What's your burning question?

Well go ahead, ask.

As per my usual, I will do my best to be as open and honest as possible. Answers will follow in a subsequent, tell-all post.

The Right Container

2007-01-16T06:05:00.000-08:00

"The pain of life is pure salt; no more, no less. The amount of pain in life remains the same, exactly the same. But the amount of bitterness we taste depends on the container we put the pain in. So when you are in pain, the only thing you can do is to enlarge your sense of things... Stop being a glass. Become a lake."

Formerly Me

2007-01-15T08:50:00.000-08:00

Ten years ago, I looked like this (me, pictured in the middle). That seems like a lifetime ago.

It's the me after an Oprah-inspired moment and a loss of 60 lbs.
It's the me in a happy relationship with a great guy.
It's the me after a bad dye job and a need to strip all the color from my hair (hence, blonde).
It's the me who could shop in any store and have too many options of what to buy.
It's the me who was told I resembled Sharon Stone.
It's the me who was finishing college.
It's the me who was working on her Senior project- a documentary entitled, "The Weight that Women Carry."
It's the me who didn't have a clue what to do with male attention (now that I was thin).
It's the me who was slightly obsessive about food and exercise.
It's the me who felt full of possibility.

Finnsitting

2007-01-13T10:22:00.000-08:00

See this baby? So cute and blueberry stained? This is not the same boy I babysat last night. After 30 minutes of non-interrupted screaming, I caved and texted.

"He hates me. Been screaming since you left. Any tips?"

I didn't want to bother them on their date but I was at my wit's end. I'd been grumpy and depressed for most of the week. I thought babysitting would cheer me, not make me want to cut my own uterus out.

After numerous calls to both mom and pop, my sister decided to return home. I felt incredibly bad that I couldn't soothe Finn. This babysitting gig was supposed to be a breeze. He was over-tired and should have just fallen straight to sleep but nooooo. Babies and their developing minds. Sheesh! He's in the teething phase too so he's been moodier. Since we'd all been battling colds for the past couple weeks I hadn't spent any quality time with him. Maybe he forgot who I am? Maybe he doesn't like me?

At one point, as I tried to desperately heat up a bottle under the tap while unsuccessfully soothing him I said, "Look Finnster, this just isn't working out. How about you give me a ring when you can talk and walk?" Of course, I was not entirely serious. Though later when Dokey and Double B returned home with their food all boxed up, I remarked to them "I've broken up with men who treated me better."

Have I mentioned how I am not having children? Yeah. Not gonna happen.

Bodies Needs Fuel

2007-01-12T07:27:00.000-08:00

I should have known yesterday was going to be a bust. Whenever I don't start off my day with a proper breakfast, it's all downhill from there.

7:55am: Text Rachel to see if we have to go into work.

8:05am: Decide Rachel is driving my pansy ass to work.

8:15am: Running around getting ready while eating an english muffin and blogging.

8:35am: Delicately pick my way across snow and ice to Rachel's car.

8:45am: Hardly anyone is out on the roads. The main road we take to work is blocked because it's being de-iced.

8:50am: While taking alternative route, we are held up by a woman who clearly doesn't know what to do when her car meets a patch of ice on an incline. Rachel calls her a pussy. I take it one step further and call her an ice pussy. I am the Queen of the Ice Pussies. Imagine the crown for that!

9:00am: Arrive at work with a car covered in snow still. Discover the coffee shop is closed. This is not good as I have not brought my lunch nor have I brought any tea. I need my tea.

10:30am: A group of four delegates embark on a Starbuck's run for the office.

11:30am: Did that guy make my latte DEcaf?! It sure doesn't feel like it.

12:05pm: Turning off my iPod I discover a silent office. Where did everyone go? I thought we were ordering pizza? Bastards! They all went to some meeting so they could score free lunches and didn't tell me. Hmphf! Eat banana and pout.

1:15pm: Crabby. No protein. Fading. Offered one of the lunches but told they cost $10. I am not wasting $10 on a salad. Martyrdom, here I come.

2:30pm: Continue to keep iPod on because no one should come near the cage that is my cubicle. Find some stale pretzels and eat a couple. Wash it down with delicious water.

3:10pm: Seriously, can't we go home yet? My stomach is eating itself.

3:45pm: Not. Doing. Well. Can't think straight. Would throw something if I had the energy. Why does hunger make me so easily frustrated?

4:00pm: Rachel swings by my cubicle, takes one look at me and says, "Let's get you home." Ok, she said more than that but that's the part that matters. Clearly, I don't look well. I think I could actually start crying hungry, frustrated tears.

4:20pm: Arrive home. Order Indian food. Try not to pass out.

5:05pm: Indian food arrives. It's the most delicious thing I have ever eaten. Remain comatose on couch for remainder of night.

7:30am: Watch news and see it's icy everywhere. Start to panic about driving to work. Know I must be brave and go. Being an Ice Pussy isn't all it's cracked up to be. Being an Ice Pussy Control Freak is really no fun at all, I'll have you know. At least I will have time for a proper breakfast.

Again With The Snow

2007-01-11T08:00:00.000-08:00

For a California girl, this snow business is quite disconcerting. Don't get me wrong- I love the snow. It's just that it keeps snowing just enough to stick on the ground but not enough to keep me from going into work. Like my friend Rachel so astutely said, "Snow is like a penis- if there isn't 6 inches there's no point."

All day yesterday I kept saying, "Where is the snow!?" And then, come 4:15pm- whamo! There were flurries of snow whirling about my office window. Most of us bolted out of the office to try to beat the traffic. I actually smiled my whole way home. Snow has that effect on me.

Unfortunately, my neck of the woods didn't get enough snow to warrant a snow day so I am carpooling in with Rachel. I don't want to drive in it. It's freezing and icy out there! I'll let the seasoned Washingtonian do the dangerous driving. I bet half the office won't be in but I'll be there. Great! Ahem.

No More Hiding

2007-01-10T07:19:00.000-08:00

All across the blogosphere there's this delurking thing going on. People are coming out of the woodwork to say- I'm here! I read! I'm a fan! Because, people, delurking is about being nice. Keep that in mind when you delurk on my blog, ok? Remember, I'm fragile this week.

I received an iPod for Christmas (thanks Mom!). I wear it all the time. Even at work. It's gotten to the point where I feel like I have a soundtrack to my life playing in my ears. The last few days it's been stuck on "Gone" (thank you Ben Folds) because that song is appropriate in many ways for my current mood. Listening to my iPod obsessively got me thinking. . . if you could make the soundtrack of your life, what one song would you HAVE to include? Tell me.

(That includes you, lurkers.)

Enough With The Crying Already

2007-01-09T07:00:00.000-08:00

For the record, I still totally love my life. I do! I'm just having a bit of a fragile spell. These old hurts that should have been buried many years ago are resurfacing like those corpses in Poltergeist (eww, that scene was scary! Remember?). It's fascinating, really, how I can chase this messed up feeling that I grew accustomed to in my younger years even as a (relatively) sane woman in my early 30's. I can know it will hurt and yet I do it anyway. It's almost as though the hurt is so familiar it's almost comforting.

Excuse me? Did I actually just say the hurt was comforting?! I'm so over myself. I'm over crying. I'm over feeling bad. I'm over making excuses. I'm over caretaking when no one, not even me, is taking care of me.

Let me rephrase that: Fuck. This. Shit.

Ok. Good. Now I feel better.

Today's mantra comes from my wise friend Melissa

"Sometimes I get to choose me."

Growing Pains

2007-01-08T07:19:00.000-08:00

I've been sort of lost in a sad fog since Saturday night. I haven't been able to apply myself to completing any one task. I had projects to get done but instead I kept wandering back to the couch to watch some repeat movie. The Bachelor took away 45 minutes of my day and I cried when he proposed to her. Later after I hung up some clothes, I wandered back again and found myself tearing up at the good-bye scene between Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson in Lost in Translation. I tried to distract myself by reorganizing the magnets and pictures on my fridge but that only lasted for about 15 minutes. I was restless and preoccupied.

I dragged myself out of the house to return some Christmas presents. I discovered I wasn't much in the mood for shopping. One store I needed to go to is out of business. Another didn't have anything I wanted to exchange for. Bad customer service. Disheveled shelves full of crappy merchandise. Lazy clerks. It was unsuccessful and disheartening. Note to self: Don't go shopping when you are feeling dejected.

I returned home to my cats and my couch only to cry again at the apology scene between Meg Ryan and Diane Keaton in Hanging Up. That's when I had had it. I put myself to bed with a cup of tea and a book and distracted myself into sleep.

It's hard to let go of the unhealthy parts of yourself even if you know it is the smart thing to do. The heart knows feeling, not logic. I'll be okay, eventually. I've just got to feel my way out of this into a new way of being.

Gumption

2007-01-06T22:38:00.000-08:00

I saw The Holiday tonight. It's a bit late in the game but still, I enjoyed the film. I was in the mood for it. I laughed. I cried. I even went "A Ha."

Yes, you read that right. I had one of those Oprah "A Ha" moments. (Apologies for uttering the O word.) I am sitting there in the theater watching the movie and this one character keeps reminding me of my ex. And then I think about it and realize that Kate Winslet's character reminds me of me. I ask myself the same question she asks herself: Am I supposed to be a leading lady or a best friend? Am I not playing the leading role in my own bloody life? (Sorry, English terms are flitting about.)

The Jasper character is my ex in that he always hooks her back in right as she is almost convinced that it is time to let go. He even goes so far as to not tell her he is engaged! And all that "I don't want to lose you" rubbish. What does SHE gain from it? Being there for him as he moves on with his life? How does that fulfill her knowing he has made his choice and she wasn't it? The clandestine meetings and abbreviated phone calls. . .How can a person say they love you and in the same breath ask you to sacrifice your own happiness to satisfy their need?

What about her needs?

There comes a time when you have to say enough to the toxicity. Enough to the fantasy. Enough to the used to be. It doesn't keep you warm at night. In fact, it keeps you colder than you ever thought possible. Shouldn't the person who claims to love you want the very best for you? Wasn't Mae West right when she said, "An ounce of performance is worth a pound of promises?"

I know, a lot of questions. I don't expect answers. I just needed to think out loud.

Maybe I Did?

2007-01-05T07:45:00.000-08:00

1. Lost my pass card for work somewhere between the foggyheaded hours of 10:30 am and 1:15pm on Tuesday.

2. Inappropriately flirted over email with a collaborative partner at work- one whose looks, be them fugly or dreamy, is unknown to me. Saucy little minx that I am. Meow!

3. Laughed so hard I kinda peed a little in my pants. I said kinda.

4. Ate lentils for lunch two days in a row and then wonder why I felt so gassy. Ew, sorry for the TMI.

5. Narrowly missed hitting a parked car while reversing out of a parking lot. I guess singing should take a back seat to actually driving.

6. Did not put my clean laundry away though I did fold it in neat little stacks.

7. Sat in front of my ginormous heater pretending it was a fireplace.

8. 3 out of the 4 times I visited the restroom at work, there was no toilet paper in the stall- which I discovered AFTER I had already sat down. Can you spare a square?

9. Drank tea that I swear smelled like a Strawberry Shortcake doll- specifically, Apricot with her pal Hopscotch. Man, I loved my Strawberry Shortcake dolls.

10. Was called by a dietician (my work is participating in some health survey) and had to recall what I had eaten in the previous 24 hours. Unfortunately, I had injested an entire box of Kraft Mac 'n Cheese. Skipping lunch + feeling too sick to really cook = entire box of M 'n C. Embarassment at admitting that aside, it really IS the cheesiest.

Peace out my homies.

Return to Sender

2007-01-04T07:54:00.000-08:00

Sometimes opening mail isn't the joy I long for it to be. Most days I am anxious to open my mailbox, hopeful that someone who has affection for me has sent some sort of love note or trinket or card that simply states "You are my everything." Is that too much to ask? Heh. Yesterday, my box was stuffed to the gills with envelopes- all of which disappointed me. Belated Christmas card. Life insurance offer. Columbia House threatening to send me to collections because I didn't order enough over-priced dvds to suit them. My Comcast bill. . .let's stop there because it's Comcast that deserves my wrath.

How is that Comcast can so consistently piss me off yet so inconsistently provide me service? Oh right. I get it. I swear they are vying for a tie with Bank of America on my most hated list. My recent bill shows a jump in price for internet and cable- it's now double what I have paid monthly for 5 months. Double! With no warning, I might add. I hate you Comcast. Hate. You vile monsters. I might as well get a land line at the rate they are charging. It would actually be cheaper if I had all three services instead of just the two. That's how they operate.

Why can't they just give me one price and be done with it? I don't want to remember when my "special deal" is going to expire. I don't want to have to call asinine customer service and inquire into new deals and switch everything. It was fine the way it was! Hmphf!

This news sent me into such despair that, unbeknownst to me, I ate half a bag of reduced fat cheese crunchies from Trader Joe's while reading over the fine print of the bill. I think they might have been stale too. Awesome.

Low Functioning Blog Post

2007-01-03T08:11:00.000-08:00

You get this kind of post when my brain is recovering from a foggyheaded, runny nosed, bleary eyed cold.

Things you may not have known about me...

Four jobs I have had in my life:
1. Reader of books on tape for a blind woman
2. Assistant Manager of a pottery painting store
3. Women's Self-defense Instructor
4. Community Educator at a Domestic Violence/Sexual Assault organization

Four movies I would watch over and over:
1. When Harry Met Sally
2. Ghostbusters
3. Groundhog Day
4. The Princess Bride

Four places I have lived:
1. Campbell, CA
2. Santa Cruz, CA
3. Seattle, WA
4. That's it, only 3

Four TV shows I love to watch:
1. The Office
2. Lost
3. What Not To Wear
4. Monk

Four places I have been on vacation:
1. Mexico
2. England
3. Georgia
4. Canada

Favorite foods:
1. Sushi, preferably sake or unagi
2. Ice Cream, preferably Peanut Butter & Chocolate
3. Potatoes, preferably mashed but if not then baked with sour cream on top
4. Vietnamese Sandwiches, preferably tofu

Today's Favorite Word:
1. dicktard *

*Let it be known here and now that "dicktard" will be to 2007 what "asshat" was to 2006.

I Love My Life

2007-01-01T14:23:00.000-08:00

I'm in pretty darn good spirits considering I am battling a head cold. I could use some chicken soup and a back rub but really, who couldn't? Heh. So it's 2007 and I feel fabulous because you know what? I love my life.

I've got a great job with wonderful people doing meaningful work. It takes me 10 minutes to drive there and I never have to hop on a freeway. I've got a cute apartment in a quiet neighborhood with neighbors who are friendly and fun. So what if they just raised my rent. I'm grateful still. I live 8 blocks from my sis, brother-in-law and nephew. I can walk to their apartment in the rain listening to my new ipod. I get to watch Griffin change from day to day. My mom is moving here in the next few months. My best girl, Hillz, and I get to hang out whenever we want- like on NYE. My California friends visit often. I have made new friends here and they make me laugh. I don't get lost half as much as I used to. My blog friends continually surprise and delight me. (Who sent me the sandalwood incense? Thanks!) Just yesterday I got to meet Ms. Snarky herself, Snackiepoo. I want her and Shawn to move here because then we can be BFFs. (Pretty please?)

I feel blessed/lucky to have the life I have. And I feel incredibly hopeful about 2007. May you look upon this new year with fresh perspective and energetic hope. There is magic in that. Believe.

Setting My Intention for 2007

2006-12-30T09:43:00.000-08:00

I've long since given up on resolutions. Instead, I like to set my intention for the new year. Last year I had quite a solid list and, upon review, I've held true to many of my intentions. Hey, this actually works! Many of last year's intentions carry over into this year (and every year). I'll never be done practicing patience or giving up the guilt. These are lifelong intentions. But what's the harm in reminding myself? It's a gentle push in the right direction.

As 2006 draws to a close and 2007 readies itself with open arms, I ask myself: Who do I want to be in the world? What will it take for me to become her?

My theme for 2007 is ACCEPTANCE.

Here's what I want for myself in 2007:

Figure out how to quiet my inner critic. (Please shut the fuck up.)
Trust myself more. (Intrinsically.)
Be open to love. (It isn't all THAT scary, is it?)
Be present in the now. (Here. Here. Here.)
Financial security. (Cha-ching!)
Give up the body loathing. (Good Lord enough already with the hating.)
Belly jiggling, rolling on the floor, tears from my eyes laughter. (Makes me feel alive.)
A lot of really good kissing. (Weak-in-the-knees kind of kissing to be specific.)
More touch. (Yeah, you read that right.)
Quiet. (The kind of quiet that hushes the inner critic.)
Solitude that recharges me. (Being alone does not have to equal loneliness.)
Learn a new craft. (And get really, really good at it.)
Hold true to my boundaries. (No is a complete sentence.)
Practice articulating my wants and needs. (Even when it is difficult. Even when I want to hide under the covers. Like right now, how I am listing my wants for 2007.)
Give up on fixing everyone. (You don't need fixing and if you do? It isn't my job.)
Feel I am enough. (Perfectionism, bugger off!)
Fall in love. (Truly, madly, deeply.)
Listen deeper and ask difficult questions. (Of myself most particularly.)
Love myself more than I ever have. (It goes without saying...)

What about you? What is your intention for 2007?

A Year In Review: 2006

2006-12-29T10:21:00.000-08:00

Post-Mexico trip, I returned fatigued and without luggage barely arriving to Supple's house in time to toast in the new year. From there it was planning, planning, planning for the Big Move. All the little moments that led up to my final good-bye in June- the lunches, the intimate tea talks, the frolics on the beach, the American Idol nights, the laughter, the tears, the tearful laughter. Saying good-bye to Santa Cruz and hello to Seattle- it's the biggest move, internally and externally, I've ever made in my life.

And it was totally the right decision.

Work sucked for the most part. Things at the organization I had dedicated 4 years to were falling apart and I had a lot of pressure on my shoulders. Co-workers were telling me I should apply to be the Executive Director. I was flattered but knew I wasn't ready for such a daunting task. That job, for as much pain as it caused me, helped me grow like no other job. And the friendships I made there are lasting, true and dear to me. Now, after 15 interviews and 4 job offers, I feel like I can finally breathe a big sigh of relief. My new job is just what I need it to be.

My love life was basically non-existent except for psuedo-dating my darling Dumpling and the pining for an ex that is taken. Arriving in Seattle, I met a couple of fellas but none that were swoon worthy. None that made me light up. And I want to light up. I want to feel special. Finally, slowly, I am figuring out what I am worth and standing up for it. It feels scary but really fucking good too. The further I delve into my feelings about my relationship with my father, the more centered I get. It's part of the journey I can't skip over.

My sister and brother-in-law announced their pregnancy as 2005 drew to a close. This changed everything. The prospect of new life colored the way I operated in the world and made moving to Seattle a necessity, no longer a fanciful idea. I knew there was nowhere else to be but near my family. Being present at the birth of my nephew was life changing for me- to watch my little sis become a mother, to hold her hand as she beared down, to see Griffin tumble into this world amongst a circle of love and trust- that was LIFE right there. The best part of life. And every day I am grateful to be close and to watch him grow up.

So, 2006 was a year of transition. The first half dedicated to readying myself for the move, the second half focused on finding work, home and making a new life for myself. For a girl who lived amongst the comforts and confines of a pretty little life, I am definitely looking at the world in a new way. I'm trying to open myself up to possibility, to trusting that even though it's mostly out of my control it is going to be okay, to having faith- mostly in myself. Life just keeps getting better and better. . .

Also Makes Great Fries

2006-12-28T07:55:00.000-08:00

I'm on the phone the other night telling a friend about my day and how I had to "borrow" a tampon from a co-worker. She handed me one and I said, "This is a torpedo, not a tampon." It was massive. Like Super Exxxorbant or something. Wow.

My friend says: (laughing) "It probably would have worked for me and my loose vagina."

I retort: (hysterically laughing) "Yeah, you should hand out pith helmets."

She says: "Man, it's a good thing I'm into anal sex."

Shut Up In My Head

2006-12-27T07:24:00.000-08:00

This is very true:

The stress of being with others could make you feel like taking time to be alone to regroup today. Perhaps because you have been so involved in your previous activities, you may be feeling emotionally drained and maybe even moody. Spending time alone in quiet reflection or meditation today might help you to feel more at ease with your own emotions and could give you the energy you need to be with others later on. While sitting in meditation, you might wish to watch your own feelings as they arise and pass. You may notice that your feelings of discomfort are not the result of your immediate environment, but are simply habitual thoughts that come into your mind. Seeing this might make it easier for you to recognize that your unease does not necessarily come from being with others, but rather from your sensitivity to your everyday thoughts. -Daily Om

Habitual thoughts? When I really slow down and think about it they include:

Feeling unattractive and uncomfortable in my own skin.
Missing my Dad and regretting our relationship.
Wishing I could stop being a control freak for one minute so I can enjoy my life sans the perfect plan.
Feeling alone and lacking hope that I will ever find someone to share my life with.

I'm definitely feeling ultra-sensitive lately. I mean, come on, I cried at the "death" scene in Click. Click! That's a comedy! WTF is wrong with me? Maybe it's just the post-holiday blues. . .

Merry Christmas!

2006-12-25T08:58:00.000-08:00

Yes, this is me around age 2. I still make that face.

Here or There?

2006-12-24T07:16:00.000-08:00

Where I was last year on this day:

Where I will be today:

Hmmm, working on Christmas Eve (at a football game, no less) or sitting in an airport on my way to sunny, beautiful Mexico. . . which would I prefer? It's SUCH a hard decision. Different kind of crowd to battle. Different kind of energy. Different kind of result in the end after all my efforts.

Let's hope all 127 of my volunteers show up at 9am ready to sell 4,000 programs. Let's hope it doesn't rain until after we are done selling. Let's hope the fans are in a charitable mood because of the holidays and for each $3 program they say, "keep the change" when they hand us $5.

Let's hope everyone has a VERY merry Christmas.

Christmas In My Apartment

2006-12-23T09:12:00.000-08:00

Making A List, Checking It Twice

2006-12-22T06:54:00.000-08:00

I worked 12 hours yesterday.
I am still tired after 7 hours of sleep.
Yawn.
I met Deion Branch last night.
I kept calling him Darryl in my mind.
I know very little about football.
Oddly enough, I will be spending Christmas Eve Day coordinating over 120 volunteers who are selling programs at the Seahawks/Chargers game for our charity.
I will be tired then too.
My mom arrives to Seattle today!
This is Griffin's first Christmas!
I have a week off after the 24th.
I get to meet Snackiepoo next week!
I am done with my Christmas shopping and wrapping.
Last night I arrived home to a pile of boxes in front of my door.
Merry Christmas to me from my California friends!
I love getting mail.
I love Christmas.
I love vacation.
Last year at this time I was packing to go here.
Best. Christmas. Ever.
Hope your holidays are merry & bright!

Somebody's Watching Me

2006-12-20T17:36:00.000-08:00

The ad read. . .

Position: Cyber-Stalker
Payment: $20 Amazon bucks (or equivalent compensation)
Length of Engagement: eight hours (approximately 8 to 5 PST)
Date Needed: Flexible, but would prefer December 19th, 20th or 21st.
Details: In need of a creative gift for a favored co-worker, it occurred to me that a cyber-stalking might be just what he needed. Nothing tawdry or terrifying, but a bit-o-witty-banter with a mysterious admirer to make the workday pass a little quicker. If you're interested or have questions, please let me know ASAP.

My friend Jules is wicked clever. Leave it to her to come up with this scheme. This proposition smacked of Sizzle and so, of course, I offered my services.

My stalkee was a pleasant, intelligent fella who did a much better job stalking me than I did stalking him. (Hi Bradley if you are reading this!) Still, I had such an enjoyable time I'm waiving my fee. (You hear that Jules?) I'm thinking this could be an excellent side gig.

I've Come Unwrapped

2006-12-20T07:25:00.000-08:00

I don't want to ruin anyone's holiday buzz but I am seriously peeved. I'm still debating if I am mad at me or at him though.

I've been schooled again and again to just STOP giving people so many chances to change. I thought, being the nice and forgiving person that I am, I would tell this particular person plain and clear why I was upset/disappointed in him and what I expected out of a friendship if we were going to have one- that way I could rest assured that I'd said my piece and could walk away undisturbed if and when he flaked out again.

So he tells me he has a Christmas present for me. This throws me off seeing as how we haven't spent any QT together in weeks and weeks. I figured I wouldn't see him and hadn't purchased a gift for him. He was on my naughty list. No, not THAT naughty list. The other one- of people who don't get any good cheer from Sizzle. He said he would come by last night. Did he call? Did he text? Did he IM? Email? Send a telegraph? Try mental telepathy?

No.

There is bound to be some excuse. Some tidbit of truth in a big ol' lie. How hard is it to pick up the phone and say, "I can't make it." I hate when I give someone multiple chances to redeem themselves and they consistently let me down. I begin to feel worse about myself for having given them so many said chances. I hate when someone says they are going to do something and they don't- salt in the wound if they don't even have the manners or decency to tell you they can't do it. Ugh, I spent all night feeling angry about it.

When is enough enough to finally say good-bye? Why don't I have that ability? This person has proven himself unworthy of my friendship and yet even typing that makes me feel guilty.

You Can Count On Me

2006-12-19T07:32:00.000-08:00

. . . to give you a big hug when I meet you.

. . .to get distracted while cooking and burn something.

. . .to take the lead when it involves planning.

. . .to remember your birthday (and maybe call and sing to you).

. . .to have numerous lists and lists about lists I should make.

. . .to give a person multiple chances to redeem him/herself (for better or worse, I do this).

. . .to not be able to sit still and watch tv or a movie unless someone is holding my hand or I am knitting.

. . .to be wearing some form of the color pink.

. . .to ease the tension with a joke ("Two peanuts were walking down the street. One was a salted.")

. . .to overthink my overthinking.

. . .to listen.

. . .to be drinking tea.

. . .to stop and pet a dog or cat.

. . .to hold the door for you, even if I don't know you.

. . .to flip you off if you cut me off.

. . .to be sing along to really bad songs.

. . .to answer your email faster than I return your phone call.

. . .to tell you how I feel, eventually.

. . .to always type "pick" rather than "choose" or "chose" because I can't for the life of me remember which is which.

. . .to have my mind in the gutter.

. . .to know how to spell the word you can't spell.

. . .to remember your favorite cookie or that you are allergic to walnuts or you love the color red.

. . .to get the job done.

. . .to make it painfully obvious if I am mad or hurt (I'm working on my approach with this one).

. . .to be impatient.

. . .to go "awww" over sappy romantical things.

. . .to not be properly dressed when the storm hits.

. . .to bite my nails.

. . .to show up on time.

. . .to worry if you like me or not.

. . .to be awake and fairly alert before 7am.

. . .to send you something in the mail.

. . .to believe in you.

. . .to be a woman of my word.

That's A Wrap

2006-12-18T06:53:00.000-08:00

Saturday was a blur of flour, sugar and eggs. We managed to crank out five different kinds of cookies and dog biscuits (all not pictured here). It was fun to hang around listening to Christmas music, baking with Dokey and Hillz.

I tried out a new brunch place with my friend Faith on Sunday. It's literally around the corner. The wait was an hour but it flew by with a latte in hand and good conversation. Then we headed over to I Heart Rummage which was smaller than I thought and crowded. Like the booths are so crammed in there it's difficult to get around. I got two men in my life gifts there so at least it wasn't a bust. I have one more gift to buy and I am done. Finished. Complete-o. I had such good intentions of hand-making many of my gifts but time, energy and inspiration did not collide as I had hoped. Why does the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas go so fast?

I have too many friends. I don't mean that I have to off any of them from my friend list, I'm just realizing that I buy presents for a LOT of people. And then for those I don't, I send a card. And for those that don't get a card, they get baked goods. I love giving. I like picking out a thoughtful present. There is an art to it. Sometimes if I can't find just the right thing or I don't have just the right amount of money to afford said perfect present, I feel frustrated. I don't want to get just anything. I know it's supposed to be "the thought that counts" and all- and yes, it does- but for someone (me) who is on a limited budget (hand to mouth), I want each buck to count toward greatness. I'm kind of afraid to look at my bank balance. I checked in on Saturday and got one figure but then recalculated last night and came up with a completely different number that was higher. In my mind, I'm going with the higher figure. Wouldn't you?

************
Looks like Reveal Your Blog Crush Day 2006 was a hit. We've even been talked about on Blogebrity! Next year we will give more advanced notice. I certainly never thought it would take off like it did. Sandra is hiring a bodyguard if anyone is up for the task. The only requirement is that you must sing to her at the top of every hour, "I Will Always Love You" a la pre-druggie Whitney. I hope everyone had fun exposing their crushes!

Fa La La

2006-12-16T09:22:00.000-08:00

I inadvertently had yesterday off work. I was hemming and hawing, taking my own sweet time to leave my apartment that morning when my phone rang. My supervisor was calling to tell me that the office had no power - apparently while I was tucked away safe and warm in my apartment, Seattle had been wracked by a pretty vicious storm and the power was out all over King County. Capital Hill wasn't hit badly so we were none the wiser unless we tuned into the news. So, no work for me- Sweeeeet! Pay day & a free day? Could life get any better?! I got to lunch with my sis and nephew, wander around Elliot Bay Book Company with $90 in gift certificates to spend, and have plenty of time to rally for the party that night.

The Apartment Party was a blast. I truly have great neighbors. We all got along and the conversation flowed. It was fun to see everyone's apartments and to get to know them better. I think we might have planted a few seeds for friendship. Everyone except one neighbor is not from Washington state (go figure!) so we've got that outsider perspective to bind us (what is WITH the streets here! Ya, I know, totally!). One couple is into hip hop so I finally have someone to go to shows with. Yes! Another knits so maybe we'll stitch & bitch. Another is a poet and we might go to her reading in January. Everyone was sweet and generous - I feel even luckier to live here now.

Today is cookie baking day with Dokey & Hillz. Yay for holiday merriment, togetherness and cookies.

My Blog Crush of the Year

2006-12-15T06:52:00.000-08:00

Dear Karl,

I just wanted you to know that ever since I first read your guest post on Snackie's World I've been . . . smitten. I have a soft spot for funny men and YOU are funny. And smart. And sarcastic. And silly. And complex. And introspective. And incredibly sweet. You're a talented writer- your posts and weekly columns in the paper prove that. Oh and I totally think you are cute. (blush) I hope my crush on you doesn't interfere with our friendship. Or that you don't mind if I flirt with you. Or, um, write your name all over my notebook and draw hearts around it.

Undying love & devotion,
Sizzle

The Crushies

2006-12-15T05:19:00.000-08:00

My Blog Crush Day Partner in Crime: Internal Monoblog

Fatal Flaw

The Babbling Brooke

Citizen of the Month

The Daily Minute

Kapgar

Secondhand Tryptophan

Snackie's World

Sparktacular

Short, Sassy. . .

Dirty Laundry

Arcadia

High Praise for Eloquent Graffiti

The Torn Pages

Work in Progress

The Write Coast

JimmyCity

Win or Lose, We Go Shopping

Just for Fun

Your Righteousness Is Killing Me

Postmodern Sass

Mrs. Ca

Run Jen Run

Daughter of Opinion

Frances Danger

Java Jabber

Praying for the Depraved Soul

All Bully

Blinding Glare

Mish Mash

Alithinks

Space Monkey Pants

Pink Bunny Foo Foo

I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Wino

Goodnight, Hollywood Boulevard

Pictures & Words

Fluid Detail

American Twentysomething 2.0

My Scattered Thoughts

Princess Mombi's Friendatorium

The Zeus Excuse

Webcruiser

Heart First

*if I've missed anyone who is revealing their crush today, just let me know and I'll add you!

My First Crush

2006-12-14T08:32:00.000-08:00

My first real deal crush hit me in Junior High. He and I were friends. I was everyone's friend in 8th grade. The boys came to me for girl advice. The girls shared their "Going Steady" woes with me. All the while, no one passed me a note declaring their affection for me. Sigh. I was the class therapist even at 13.

So Jacob S. and I were buddies. We'd sometimes give him a ride to school and often he'd come over to my house to study. I knew he liked Rozanne but it didn't stop me from crushing. One night, while we talked on the phone like we did every night, he told me that CJ (my BFF) had told him of my feelings. I stammered out a denial, clutching the phone, trying not to cry. I felt betrayed by my (former) BFF, CJ- how could she!? Everyone knows you don't tell your BFF's secret crush that she like likes him!

While all of these feelings and thoughts are whirling around my head Jacob tells me, "I just like you as a friend." The kiss of death on any crush. All my hopes and daydreams of walking around the schoolyard hand in hand after sharing lunch were squashed. I got off the phone and sobbed. I was inconsolable. I had no idea how I was going to face anyone at school the next day. No doubt the news has spread- our class was small and tightknit. I was mortified and heartbroken.

When I woke up the next day my Mom had slipped a note under my bedroom door. In that note she told me that sometimes we will love people who might not return our feelings but that does not make our feelings any less a treasure. When we love someone it is a gift we offer them. That my love is precious and never something I should be ashamed of or hide. I've kept that note all these 20 years. It meant that much to me. (Thanks Mom.)

****************
Reveal Your Blog Crush is TOMORROW! If anyone gets their heart broken, I'll send you a copy of my Mom's note. It'll make you feel better.

We've Hit The Big Time

2006-12-13T08:12:00.000-08:00

Thanks to SJD over at The Write Coast we've got ourselves a Blog Crush button. Fancy! Thanks SJD for creating & sharing it. Now we are official. Grab it and post it on your blog if you are participating Dec. 15th.

Who are YOU going to pick? Pass me a note in 5th period.

In non-crush news, this Friday I have two parties to go to- my work holiday party (the bowl-a-rama) and my apartment building party. I'm glad to have parties to attend but what has become glaringly obvious these last few days is that I have a difficult time refraining from falling into the role of "party planner." How do I say this without sounding rude? Hmm. . . when people who are quite obviously not planners take the lead on such events that need planning and I am on the periphery. . .well, I kind of want to lose my mind with how disorganized it all seems. Take my apartment party for example. One apartment took the initiative to gather everyone's emails and start the conversation about having the party- this is good because otherwise we'd have no party. But then it sort of became this mass email conversation of what date and what time and how should we work the food. Even though I am from Santa Cruz, CA, I am not a huge fan of co-ops. It's the Aries in me. I want a leader.

So we're doing this traveling party where we pop in to each apartment and have a little food and drink. At one point I think someone asked how long we'd spend in each apartment and there was a rumor about an hour. An hour!? That'd be 7 hour party. Uh, no. We each picked a region/country so we'll be tasting foods from France to India. Because the "party planners" opted to go last (they are making a dessert) I, in typical Sizzle fanatic fashion, opted to go first. Am I crazy!? (We all the answer to this. Hush.) The upswing is I get to relax and enjoy the rest of the night because going first means a) the control freak in me will be appeased b) I'll have some influence on the tone of the party, and c) my food will all be hot and fresh from the oven. Is it weird/evil/snobby to want my apartment to be the cutest?

I should probably seek professional help for this problem. (And others, I know. Hush!)

I'm So Un

2006-12-12T07:15:00.000-08:00

You may be flying with enthusiasm, yet it's really time to cool your heels and consider the current state of the relationships you have created in your life. For you, the distant hills often appear more appealing than the one you are climbing; the bird in the bush can be more attractive than the one in your hand. Conscious self-restraint for the next few weeks may seem like a big sacrifice, yet it strengthens your opportunity for happiness.

Sometimes I like to pretend I am not into astrology. When I say "pretend," I basically mean that I lie. "Oh yeah, that astrology business is just a bunch of malarky." You should know, right then and there, that whenever I say something like "malarky" odds are I am lying. I so suck at lying! The point being- sometimes my horoscope is so dead on accurate that it gives me pause. Like the one above.

Anyhow (hello!) the focus of this post is not supposed to be lying or astrology- it's supposed to be how I have PMS. (There, now I've gone and lost the majority of my male readers. Talk to you later fellas!) Yesterday as I was getting ready for work I couldn't decide on A) What to eat for breakfast, B) What to wear, C) If I should stop at the post office to mail my Christmas cards on the way to work or on the way home from work, D) What to bring for lunch. Indecision is a big part of my PMS. I noticed I also have a constellation of lovely blemishes on my chin (always on my chin- damn you chin!). Breakouts mean the Mean Reds are on the way. I felt grouchy and disinterested, pouty for no good reason, annoyed by every little thing and basically unloveable, unattractive and unworthy. Moreso than any other given day. My new adjective for myself this week is "un." I'm feeling very un.

Needless to say, this is going to be a fun week of being Sizzle!

I tend to stay away from too much interaction when I am like this. Nothing cheers me. I'm inconsolable. I'm very Greta Garbo "I vant to be left alone." Oddly enough I am internally crying out for connection but because of all my fuckedupness and un-ness, can't ask for what I really need. I really shouldn't be reading "Zen and the Art of Falling in Love" right now. Each night I go to bed thinking, "Shit, I have SO much work to do on myself before I'd even be remotely ready for a relationship." Sigh. So far all it is telling me to do is sit on a pillow, count to ten over and over and focus on my breathing. Have I done this yet? No. Of course not. I have PMS!

Reveal Your Blog Crush: Dec. 15th

2006-12-11T07:20:00.000-08:00

I've heard the rumble regarding this fabulous brainchild Sandra and I had last week. Ok, so you want to REVEAL YOUR BLOG CRUSH but you've got questions. Hey, we're here to make your reveal the least like a junior high flashback, ok? Let's proceed. . .

So, I've been asked what technically IS a Blog Crush? It'd likely include some, if not all, of the following:
A) You can't wait to read what they post next.
B) You want to be friends with them.
C) You think they are the cat's meow. Meow!
D) You might find them attractive- physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, whatever floats your boat.
E) If you met them in person, blushing might occur.

If you have to really think hard about who your blog crush is, you probably don't have one.

THE RULES:
1) You can have more than one crush (but please refrain from naming your entire blogroll in an effort to keep everyone happy).
2) You must reveal it on December 15, 2006 on your own blog.
3) Boys can crush on boys. Girls can crush on girls. Boys can crush on girls. Girls can crush on boys. This has little to do with our sexuality and more to do with being bloggeriffic.

We'd love to know if you are participating so leave Sandra or I a comment on our blogs.

As A Child. . .

2006-12-10T07:56:00.000-08:00

(Thanks Lushy!)

Are you a child of the 70s, 80s, or 90s?
The majority of my growing years were in the 80's (born 1973).

Where were you born?
Santa Clara, California

What city did you grow up in?
Campbell, California

Did you enjoy your childhood?
The majority of it.

When you were a kid what did you want to be when you grew up?
In kindergarten I said I wanted to be a babysitter and a cheerleader. BIG life goals! I've always wanted to be a writer.

What do you want to be now?
The woman who revolutionizes chubby girl fashion.

Name the first memorable vacation you took as a kid?
I'm thinking it was Disneyland. But we also went camping a lot. I remember my parents would string bacon up to keep the bees away from our picnic table. And I got to feed a deer from my hand!

What was your first best friend or friends' name?
I know there were technically others but the one that sticks with me is Michelle.

Are they still your friend?
Not really. We used to call each other on our birthdays. Now we (finally) live in the same state but our lives are very different.

Can you name all the schools you ever attended?
St. Lucy's, Westmont High, Notre Dame High School, De Anza College, UC Santa Cruz.

Who was your first crush?
I was completely ga ga over Shawn S. He could breakdance! Plus, he looked like Rickie Schroder.

Were you closer to your Mom or Dad as a kid?
I was a daddy's girl but my mom and I have always been close.

Do you have any embarrassing school stories to share?
Um hello?! Have you READ this blog?

What was the first record, tape or CD you remember buying?
It probably wasn't the first but I distinctly remember receiving Culture Club's Colour by Numbers cassette.

Were you scared of anything?
I was scared of death, always. Afraid of heights. And at one point, of E.T.

What was your favorite class in elementary school?
I always liked anything that had to do with English or writing or reading or spelling.

Broke any bones or had any freaky accidents as a kid?
When trying to open the blinds to wake my sister up from her nap, I fell off a trunk and broke my collarbone. When riding on the shoulders of my babysitter, I tumbled over her head and landed on the sidewalk when she tripped. I've also burned my hand twice. And once, while blow drying my hair with a q-tip sticking out of my ear, I accidentally rammed the q-tip into my ear cavity causing intense pain and ringing for 24 hours. Note to self: do not try to do two things at once- especially ear cleaning and hair drying.

Did you play house or pretend to be a super hero?
I played office. Even back then I was strangely drawn the allure of office supplies. I would often pretend to be a singer. You should see my rendition of Sheena Easton's, "My Baby Takes The Morning Train."

This Made Me Chuckle

2006-12-09T10:25:00.000-08:00

"When they discover the center of the universe, a lot of people will be disappointed to discover they are not it." - Bernard Bailey

It's Like This, It's Like That

2006-12-08T07:11:00.000-08:00

I was chatting with my friend Sandra yesterday- she's the wit & wisdom behind Internal Monoblog- and we got to talking about blog crushes. From that we created: Blog Crush Day. This is the day where bloggers across the blogosphere will reveal their secret (and not so secret, I mean, come on who are you kidding?) bloglove. Mark your calendars: Friday, December 15th. Spread the word! Post your blog crush! Feel the bloglove!

In other news, my nephew's cuteness increases by the hour. See:

Exhibit A

I'm 10 cards away from finishing my holiday cards. But I am nowhere near done with my Christmas shopping. I always say I will be better prepared next year and then next year comes and I am scrambling. This is not good when I make the majority of the gifts. It's going to be one hell of a crafty weekend.

But first there will be cocktails with co-workers at happy hour. Oh sweet, delicious happy hour- how I love you so.

Bread & Butter

2006-12-07T07:16:00.000-08:00

Nothing like starting your day off annoyed. Pay Pal can do that to a person. I don't know what it is about me and Pay Pal that doesn't mix but we sure get into it from time to time. Why won't it recognize my new bank I just added? Why is it sending me decline messages regarding my old bank account which I DELETED LAST WEEK? Why me!?

I hate you Pay Pal.

Pay Pal induced dramatics are the best, aren't they? Totally not over the top. Ahem. Yesterday I had to deal with the student loan people. They are also true gems. I love how they have a website that is so bogged down with information you can't find the correct form to save yourself a late fee. Then you can't email the form. Oh no, you've got to print it out and mail it in like you're still living in 1993. And then wait 30+ days for it to process so in the meantime you better remember to log in and pay what you owe. Or else the big bad loan people will start calling at all hours of the day and night. I love when that happens. It makes me feel. . . popular.

Money makes me break out in hives.

And just now, I couldn't break apart my english muffin. It was pulling apart in all the wrong ways and crumbling in my hands. Gah! I just want to eat my breakfast! Is that too much to ask? I think all this is payback for not going to work on Monday. My Thursday is my Monday.

*Blog post dramatics should be taken with a grain of salt as the blogger does not truly believe her world is spinning off its axis with these trivial annoyances.

Too Good To Be True?

2006-12-06T07:02:00.000-08:00

Just Monday I was remarking to my sister and Jenny Two Times that I was lucky to live in the apartment that I rent. I pay a reasonable price with ample space. As I've been told time and again, my bedroom is ginormous. It's true. It will be just the right size to house the beginnings of the Chubby Girl Revolution. I've already got my sewing corner set up.

But you know how sometimes you're just fa la la-ing along and kablam! you get a piece of information that kind of blows all your caroling joyousness to bits and pieces?

I got a letter in the mail yesterday from the property management company notifying me that my six month lease is about to run its course and (wouldn't you know it!?) my rent is being increased. My thoughts went something like: Fuuuuuck! Woah, it's been six months already!? Sixty-five extra dollars a month! I'm going to have to start making those skirts or selling bjs right quick. I don't want to move. I haven't even hung up all my shelves. I haven't even had a party! I live ten minutes from work. Crap. Why didn't I sign the year lease?! Balls. This blows.

And. . .breathe.

Well, actually, instead of really deep breathing I called my sis to complain then read my rental agreement then called my property manager to ask for a negotiation. Since we have an open unit in our building (which is losing money each day) and since I have a nice rack (no, wait, that won't factor in since my property manager is gay), he said he would ask the owners and let me know. I offered to sign a year lease if they wouldn't increase it or increase it so much.

This is where you come in: Pray to your idols or god(s). Keep your fingers and toes crossed. Light your candles. Chant. Kiss Mother Earth. Whatever it is you can do, think a good thought for me and my one year lease without significant rent increase. Thank you kindly.

** UPDATE**
Property Manager emailed me to say the owners will not allow me to sign a new lease but the upswing is they will only raise my rent $40 instead of $65. At least I am not tied into a lease and can get out if I need to since it is month to month. And my rent is just shy of $900. Must be grateful. Must send positive vibes into the Universe. Must not buy new shoes because all my money needs to go to rent and food.

Tori Amos Would Be Proud (Maybe?)

2006-12-05T07:36:00.000-08:00

When I was, oh, 17 years old I dyed my hair for the first time. That isn't to discount the summers I spent squeezing Sun In and lemon on my locks but before that fateful day, I'd never bought the box, mixed the dye and revealed a whole new me within an hour. I blame the Tomato for my hair coloring obsession. Why? Because I can.

The Tomato, for those of you who aren't in the know, was my high school boyfriend. He was my partner in crime in the Hair Make Over of 1991. We went with a burgundy red because, well, I was a very Depeche Mode listening- Doc Marten wearing- thrift store shopping- hipster at the time. I went from mousy brown to sassy red and it looked . . . awesome! When my mom arrived home after work she was less than pleased. And by less than pleased I mean furious. And by furious I mean she didn't speak to me for the better part of a week- and she worked at my school! Yeah, that was kind of uncomfortable. But damn if it didn't look hott. With two t's.

Fast forward 16 years later (good god when did all that time pass?!) and here I am still a slave to the vanity of hair dying. I used to fork over $150 every other month to get my hair colored and cut. Most guys when they hear that are shocked. Hey mister, looking this good takes cold hard cash and pain. (Waxing, hello!, isn't pleasant.) Ever since I moved to Seattle I've been trying to stay within a budget. I tried getting my hair cut by a couple of unknown stylists and it wasn't horrible but . . . it wasn't fantastic either. I miss my Santa Cruz stylist. So after chopping off all my hair and reverting to box hair dye, I think I've lost my hair appeal. I'm going to have to save up and throw down some money on a decent 'do with color to boot. My loved ones don't really need Christmas gifts do they?

All this is to say, I inadvertently dyed my hair red last week.

It doesn't look bad but it doesn't look great either. Actually, it's two colors of red which my co-workers claimed was hip & cool but, come on, please! I didn't intentionally dye it two tone. One co-worker actually said, "I like it. It's like how those Italian ladies wear their hair." Not hot, hip Italian ladies with beautiful shoes. No. Old Italian ladies who make pasta from scratch and wear aprons and sweep their stoops with an old broom. Those! Aaack!

It's a good thing I am not dating right now. (For oh so many reasons.)

"You've got me moving in a circle
I dyed my hair red today
I just want a little passion
to hold me in the dark
I know I've got some magic
buried deep in my heart yeah"
-Tori Amos

Hemming & Hawing

2006-12-04T08:20:00.000-08:00

"Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." -Howard Thurman

I've been thinking about what it is I love to do. While my current job and past history of non-profit employment both touch on my passion of helping people, I feel I have not yet entirely explored what it is I am meant to do. Sure, I enjoy my work but there is also a creative side to me that just isn't being tapped into. And lately she's screaming to get out.

Yesterday I gathered some of my girlfriends and we checked out Urban Craft Uprising. Tables of crafty goodness lined the hall with handmade purses, jewelry, aprons, shirts, hats, scarves, letterpress cards, etc. I stopped off at one booth where a woman was selling skirts. I'm taking a sewing clas next month and one of the things I am most eager to make is a skirt. I mentioned this to her and she said something like, "All my patterns are patented." Um, I hope you are joking. It's a fucking skirt chica. I don't want to copy you. Get over yourself.

Besides that weird territorial comment, I noticed that her skirts were all for skinny people. Odd since she was about a size 12/14 herself. I don't get that. There are plenty of chubby girls who would be thrilled to buy one of her handmade skirts and yet, she had none in our sizes. And she was practically one of us!

I just can't shake this feeling that it is time for a chubby girl revolution. We want cute clothes damn it! I suppose it is up to me to start this new movement. Having access to cute, hip clothes in larger sizes would do wonders for chubby girl self-esteem. But first, I have to learn how to make a skirt so just hold up. Revolution forthcoming.

Living Hope

2006-12-01T07:33:00.000-08:00

Today is December 1st. That means it is World AIDS Day.

It seems impossible that a person could live in this world and not know it is World AIDS Day. But then again, I'd like to think it's impossible that someone would willingly have unprotected sex with someone whose sexual history is unknown to them or that people would consciously share needles. Sadly, it's all too possible and it happens all too often.

We all play a part in making this world a better, safer place to live in. No one gets to shut their eyes or cover their ears or have the gall to say, "This does not concern me."

If you think that, Wake Up.

Practice what you preach. Be a role model. Fuck safe and shoot clean. Tell a friend. Talk to your kids about sex. Hell, talk to any kid who asks and give them honest answers. Because with HIV/AIDS, silence will equal death. Maybe not our own, but someone's. We cannot be afraid to talk about it.

During my years working at an HIV/AIDS organization I learned a great deal about humanity, about my own prejudice and how fear makes smart people dumb. I met countless amazing human beings who inspired me with their fortitude of conviction, their beautiful laughter and their fragile openness about being HIV +. These wonderful people are our living hope.

Because there is not yet a cure. Because we do have the power to change this. Because you care. Remember those who have lost their lives to HIV/AIDS and those who courageously live strong and positive every day among us.

To my every day heroes and friends at the Santa Cruz AIDS Project: I love you & am with you in spirit.

Snow Lessons

2006-11-30T07:29:00.000-08:00

It snowed more again last night. I can't help but run out into it and watch it fall from the sky. It's so pretty. I wish it didn't have to end but alas, during the night it turned to Seattle's regularly scheduled weather program- rain. Sigh. Good-bye sweet snow, I will miss you. (Neilochka, this snow angel is for you.)

I managed, in typical Sizzle fashion, to completely bite it on my way out to my car yesterday morning. I was wearing non-sensible shoes. I know this now. But to my credit, it looked like snow, not ice and my car was a mere 5 feet away from my apartment so my thinking was "even if these shoes are ridiculous for snow, I'll barely be IN the snow so just go ahead." To make matters worse, I had a trash bag in one hand and my purse, lunch bag and keys in the other. Forget about balance. It all shot out from under me when I hit that third and final step on the landing. A nice coating of ice layered it, along with the entire sidewalk. My ridiculous (but cute) shoes slid and with my hands full, I was unable to grab the railing. Everything I was holding splayed out around me as I tried to gather myself up and regain my composure. Sadly, no one was around to see this masterpiece of klutz theater. Damn if falling on ice doesn't hurt. Clearly, boots are in order. Lesson learned.

So far this week I have learned:

1) Ice is slippery.
2) Snow & ice require you to sacrifice your fashion sense. Kitten heels are not appropriate when trying to get from your apartment to your car even if they look really cute with your skirt and sweater. Put on your boots. (First, go buy some.)
3) Mittens should never be left where crazy, wool-hungry kitty can eat them. (The pinky finger on my right hand mitten is missing the tip. Dottie!?)
4) Whatever I thought were "warm" clothes in California, are not "warm" in Seattle. I need some sweaters and socks stat!
5) "Snow is like a penis. If it isn't 6 inches, there's no point." (Thank you, Rachel.)

Nice, Shmice

2006-11-29T08:21:00.000-08:00

All my life I've hated being referred to as "nice" - I guess I was always striving for something more poetic. Not that being "nice" or "cute" is bad. It's just that that is what everyone says when they have nothing really to say about a person. I don't want to be like every other person to someone. This is where the problem begins. With this kind of thinking.

You see, when you start thinking that you want everyone to like you and to like you in such a way that they might, say, rave about you- you can cue the uh-oh's right now. And this problem of mine rears its ugly head more frequently when I am around men. "Oh guy who is a pompous son of a bitch, please chase after me to prove I am worthy of being adored!" What? Stop this madness. "Oh guy who is so self-absorbed he lacks the ability to be thoughtful- won't you change your evil ways to prove I am worthy of being adored!" This is getting ridiculous.

For the record, I am still not dating or pursuing dates. It's just that this kind of sickness can chase a girl down until she wrestles and wins.

Let's dissect shall we? A) Has no kind name to call these men. B) Wants some sort of proof. C) Would like to be adored. Uh, we've got a serious dilemma here. Serious. If I don't like a person enough to refer to them kindly, the desire for wanting their approval should end right there. And yet? It doesn't. If I am always requiring proof, the likelihood of said proof materializing in a way that my clouded vision can see it is slim to none. If I want to be adored but am willing to waste time and energy on men who do not measure up or deliver, then WTF business do I have pursuing love at all?

We've talked about this countless times. I know you are weary of my blogtherapy but this is a demon I need to wrestle and win. My ultimate happiness rests on resolving this. I fear if I don't get a handle on this one, I will always be running after the wrong guy for the wrong reasons. And while that might make for good blog material, I'd like to actually be happily in love some day.

So It Snowed In Seattle. . .

2006-11-28T13:58:00.000-08:00

"Snow is like a penis- if there isn't 6 inches there's no point."
-My (very, very smart) Friend Rachel

You Can See Me

2006-11-27T07:08:00.000-08:00

I'm not ready to return to work. I just want to crawl back into my warm bed and sleep, then watch rerun movies on tv, then make some cocoa, then knit, then take a nap. Is that so wrong? It's always the first day back after vacation that my inner slacker gathers all her muster and yells, "Noooooooooo! Stay!" And here I was thinking she was passed out on the couch in her mismatched pjs watching the Titanic for the 109th time.

I've got some major demons I am battling. I'll just jump right into it since there isn't a whole lot of time for idle chit chat. Besides, I hate chit chat. "How's the weather? Can you believe that snow!" Uh, yeah... Moving on. Demons. Inner demons. Sounds kind of cryptic, no? I don't know what else to call them. My baggage. My issues. My to do list for therapy.

Yesterday someone asked me to explain my behavior towards them and I did and after all that releasing of my truth he said, "Either way, it doesn't matter." Excuse me? Did I just tell you how I was feeling and you discounted it in one precise sentence? Wow. I see your true colors shining through. . . I see your true colors and that's why I loathe you. . .WTF is with people? Does no ONE know how to communicate? Are we all such self-absorbed assholes that we can't be decent to one another? I am very disheartened. And that is putting it mildly.

I haven't been able to shake the anger and frustration I feel from that conversation. Actually, it's that conversation and one from Saturday where I basically lifted the dam wall and let all my annoyance and hurt spew forth over the phone lines potentially drowning that person in all my negativity. I'm sure he's recovered from me hanging up on him, which I did to avoid him hearing the tears that were welling up in my throat. Does it constitute hanging up on someone if you say "good-bye" but don't let them say "good-bye"- you just hang up? I'm thinking yes but it's open for debate.

I'm still doing it- looking outside myself for validation even though I am not dating or even actively looking for a date. I'm still not any closer to feeling worthy. I feel like I've read the books and had the conversations, gone to the therapy and stocked myself full of knowledge so. . . where is the power? What next? I want concrete steps. Step One: Tape affirmations around your house to remind you to alleviate negative self-talk. Step Two: Exercise your demons and your body. Step Three: Dye your hair. When your roots show you feel less attractive. See? I suck at this. Actually, I'm great at motivation for other people. For me? Eh, not so much.

Sometimes I feel like I am hiding like I did as a kid. I'd run to the corner, face the wall and hide my head in my hands. Because I couldn't see, I figured they couldn't see me. This logic didn't work then and it certainly isn't working now.

Let It Snow!

2006-11-26T08:52:00.000-08:00

I've never lived in a place where there was 100% chance of snow. I know many people who deal with snow each winter aren't excited about the prospect but I am not one of those people. I'm so excited! I still have not bought an ice scraper despite the fact that I have made numerous trips to the store and gas station. It always slips my mind. Guess that means I will just have to stay in and work on my Christmas cards or knit or watch TBS and drink tea.

It's a rough life, I tell ya.

Thinking

2006-11-24T22:07:00.000-08:00

Empower me to exercise the authority of honesty, and be a participant in the difficult ordinariness of now. -Ted Loder

I Want To Be Different

2006-11-22T07:00:00.000-08:00

The Universe is conspiring to teach me a lesson. From every angle, even the most unlikely of sources, I am hearing: "Ask for what you want!" From my Daily Om to my ex, I'm being told to speak up.

Fuck! Ok! Gawwwwwwd.

But the thing is, I suck at it. And I don't know how to start. Here's something I read the other day from the ever-brilliant Mark Nepo that is still making me think and think:

Susan and I were sitting in an ice cream parlor when the two couples next to us began to get loud. They were just having a good time, but I was feeling a bit inward and intruded on. I felt the need to go. I leaned over to Susan and asked if she wanted to leave. She, in her contentment, said, "No, I am happy here." then seeing consternation on my face, she asked, "Do you want to go?"

In that simple moment in a booth in an ice cream parlor, I realized that for much of my forty-nine years, I have tried to take care of my needs by indirectly projecting them on those around me and then acting as if I am taking care of the other person. As the ice ream was melting, I understood myself. I laughed, shook my head, felt embarrassed , then sighed deeply, and importantly voiced the obvious, "Yes, I'd like to leave."

This indirect way of trying to get what I need by planting my feelings as needs to be attended to in those around me has been a way to hide my vulnerability, while still managing to appear as a kind and other-centered person. I realize I am not alone in this malady. It is often so subtle and so close to our healthy way of relating to others that we seldom realize the manipulation and deceit involved.

I don't want to be this way any more. It's hurtful. It's unproductive. Such a seemingly simple thing- to ask for what one wants- seems like such a huge undertaking. This is going to take a lot of practice. I think at the root of it, I don't truly believe my wants are worth voicing and that people will not like me if I am not always aiming to please them. These are two fundamental issues about my self-esteem that need direct attention- feeling unworthy and people pleasing.

It stops now.

I'm Just Saying...

2006-11-21T08:01:00.000-08:00

"If you want to have your cake and eat it, you better be prepared to bake it." -Ms. Sizzle

Now That's What I Call Stubborn

2006-11-19T13:31:00.000-08:00

It's one o'clock on a rainy Sunday here in sleepy Seattle. I'm fresh from the shower and warm in my apartment content with spending the day watching movies and being lazy when I hear honking.

Not A honk. HonkING. Lots of it. Incessant, if you will.

My interest piqued, I peer out my bedroom window to see what the commotion is. There is a car stopped in front of my house, blocking the road and behind it sits a yellow station wagon. In it the honker is holding heavy down on the horn.

What's the problem here?

After a few minutes of observing the situation, it appeared that the car blocking the road was waiting for a parking space. The driver of the yellow wagon wanted to pass but there wasn't enough room. The driver of said blocking car decided to teach the wagon driver a lesson in patience and was refusing to move his car. He was just trying to park when the wagon driver gave him lip and then started the honking. Instead of backing up 5 feet to pass down an alley, the wagon driver decided it was better to annoy the entire neighborhood by leaning on the horn and refusing to take an alternate route. That will sure teach him! What a smart decision!

This went on for 20 minutes. Twenty minutes of a horn honking. Twenty minutes where neighbors from my apartment, the building next door and the church across the street came out to inquire what was going on and to each take their own approach with the stubborn, annoying driver. Yelling didn't work. Pleading didn't work. Even bringing a kid along for the negotiation didn't work. The horn still kept on blasting and the wagon driver, so annoyed at having to wait a few minutes for a person to park their car had now wasted twenty minutes of their time while pissing off the entire neighborhood.

Brilliant.

It wasn't until the sixth person to approach the driver came up to the window and said, "You lost the moral high ground 20 minutes ago. Why don't you just go?" that the driver finally edged past the blocking vehicle, bending back the guy's driver side mirror in the process, and took off down the street.

What is WITH people?!

I Do Not Miss Retail

2006-11-17T07:22:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I remembered quite clearly how very thankful I am to be free of being a retail drone. I was in a party supply store and already Christmas music was pumping out of the loud speakers while an inflatable snowman dwarfed the entryway. Aisle upon aisle Christmas puked its holiday cheer all over Pilgrim napkins and turkey centerpieces. It was all just a bit too much to take. How do retail workers have any holiday spirit left after endless days spent listening to "Holly Jolly Christmas" and dealing with rushed, bitchyass, rude cell phone talking customers? I'd want to slit my wrists. In fact, I've been there.

I worked for a couple of years at Michaels Arts & Crafts. This was back in the day when they didn't have scanners at the registers. We're talking old school retail, you know, like back in the 1990's when life was so much simpler. If you are familiar with Michaels then you likely are aware of the multiple page sale ads that are included in the Sunday paper. Within those pages are items ranging in size, shape, purpose and cost. Packages of beads, skeens of yarn, dried eucalyptus, paint brushes, scrapbooking stickers, miniscule rhinestone studs, Barney plates, fake ficus trees, wicker baskets and picture frames all fill the pages with their discounted prices. And we, as the trusty cashiers, were given the ad generally the same morning of the sale. The SAME morning. Without scanners at our registers. Try remembering all those sale items while you have a line down aisle 5 of plump women in home-made iron on shirts with bears or koalas on it, their carts overflowing and their attitudes getting worse by the minute. The joy! Worse yet? As Head Cashier I had the distinct pleasure of appeasing all the irate crafters when one of the cashiers would "forget" something was on sale and charge them full price. Forget? We weren't robots! By the time the sale was over, I'd have memorized it but no way did I know it 60 minutes after having received it.

Multiply this scenario with the holiday season, add some bahumbug and carry the one and there you have Hell.

I'm going to try my best to be extra nice to the cashiers this seasons for the mere fact that I am so bloody grateful I am not them.

Wake Up Calls Come In Many Forms

2006-11-16T08:15:00.000-08:00

For as much as I have been craving new experiences and new friends, I've been shy about going after them. Venturing out last Saturday with my boss was a step and I had fun. Last night a met a woman who recently relocated here from California who is a friend of a friend for some after-work drinks. I went into the meeting thinking I was doing her a favor. I left with a new friend.

It's funny how preconceived notions can really stop me from seeing potential. I'm always so concerned about rejection that I tend to count myself out before anything has ever happened (defense technique). Whatever my original motivations were to meet up with E, I'm glad I did because we have a lot in common and it instantly felt like we had known one another for a long time. She's the one who did me the favor.

What Isn't Being Said

2006-11-15T07:38:00.000-08:00

While talking to a friend last night, I realized, yet again, that we're all struggling to believe in ourselves and find a voice for our own truth. Some might be further along than others on that path but regardless, I think it boils down to forgetting our humanness. It's not easy to figure ourselves out, to believe in ourselves, to be in relationships with people. To attempt to act with character and integrity every day. We get hurt. We fall into old crappy patterns. We act out. We self-sabotage. We blame and wail and hide. And eventually we repair it and move on. I hope.

Do you ever have two conversations at once? Meaning, you are having one out loud, in dialogue with someone while meanwhile you are having an entirely different one with that person in your head?

Or maybe that's just me?

I remember a while back, Dumpling and I were talking via instant messenger. I think we might have been in the heat of some "big discussion" and there came a point when we started writing what we were thinking in our head in a different font after we typed what we thought we should say out loud. It would go something like this:

Me: Let's just forget about hanging out. I'm in a bad mood and no fun to hang out with.
Me: I want you to love me even when I am being a pill. I feel vulnerable when I am not "on" and in a "presentable mood."

See? Because sometimes we say one thing and we mean another. Because sometimes asking for what we want is difficult. Because it is scary to risk rejection. Because it is often frightening to be truly honest.

I wish it wasn't.

What is underneath what you are saying?

Dreams Are Very Telling

2006-11-14T07:04:00.000-08:00

I went to lunch with my boss on Saturday. She's my supervisor's boss so she is technically my boss. She said to me, "I want to hang out with you outside of work. I hope that isn't weird? You've got a New York sensibility about you that I like. I want to be friends." Um, how can I not like that? She's funny and blunt and I enjoy her company.

But then last night I had a very long and drawn out dream where I was "let go" from my current job quite unexpectedly and given no reason for it except to be told, "We are reorganizing the department." My boss, the one who is wants to be my friend, was cold and aloof in the dream. I asked everyone why. Why!? I do a good job. I don't deserve this! I was angry and confused and devastated. I finally got my supervisor to tell me that someone at the High Tea (a fundraising event we had this past weekend) had complained about me. Apparently when I had complimented the complainer about her vintage hat saying, "Ohhh, that looks GOOD on you." I had crossed some invisible line to this snobby, rich woman with poor taste. She was apparently a very big donor and we can't have a donor upset.

So they fired me.

And I had to leave all myunfinished work, pack up my stuff, hand over my keys and leave- immediately. I woke up in a panic, feeling all those old anxious feelings, feeling betrayed by my boss who said she wanted to be my friend. It was all too familiar.

I guess I haven't completely gotten over how my former boss who was also my friend betrayed me. We never made amends. He quit in a shitstorm of staff unionizing like the coward that he is and I left to a huge party of well wishers who were crying as they said their good-byes to me six months later. Take THAT stupid betraying bossman. Ha!

Ok, it isn't a contest. Sorry for the gloat.

But regardless, I think I might need to work on forgiving former bossman for his wrong doings and the hurt that lies between us. At least within myself. PTSD is no fun.

Sweaters Taste Delicious

2006-11-13T07:40:00.000-08:00

I've mentioned before that my cat, Dottie, is a bit- how shall I put this?- off-kilter. She's unique. She marches to the beat of her own drummer. Ok. Let's cut the shit. She's a spaz.

Sigh.

Of course, her spaziness has nothing to do with pets becoming like their owners.

Oh no.

I've gotten used to, if not still occasionally annoyed by, Dottie's need to scratch the sides of the litter box incessantly for a minimum of 20 strokes per side (that includes back and front) before exiting, running around the apartment for a victory lap then returning for 12 strokes on just the left and right sides. Her major spazouts are now relegated to her morning Indie 500 game played with her brother. She'll run up the side of the chair, cling there perilously, her head darting left and right while her tail flicks madly and her eyes, big saucers, scan the room for her big bully brother. When she spots him she leaps like Spiderman to another piece of furniture, on contact digging her claws in and making her mark. Besides the ruining of furniture, it's pretty cute. And the fellating her brother stopped after they were both fixed. Phew! That one was a bit. . . uncomfortable.

But what I don't find cute or amusing or endearing is Dottie's obsession with eating clothes. At first, I thought it was just my throw blankets that weren't safe. The ones with dangling bits on the edge where particularly at risk. Scarves with fringe? Forget it. Pack those away. But sweaters? Dresses? In the past month Dottie has eaten holes in two of my sweaters. Holes. Noticeable holes. WTF?!

Exhibit A: A seemingly normal sweater sleeve.

Exhibit B: Dottie's grunge masterpiece.
(Hmm, maybe she was trying to help me rekindle an old fashion trend? We ARE in Seattle afterall.)

Exhibit C: Undisguiseable hole in the middle of the back of the sweater.

Are my panties even safe?!

Maybe she just wants me to clean my room?

Hottest Date I've Had in Ages

2006-11-12T08:11:00.000-08:00

One of the top reasons I moved to Seattle was to be closer to my family, specifically to watch my nephew grow up. Every day Little Finnster changes and I cannot imagine not being here. He's such a bundle of love and smiles.

So Doke and Double B had a birthday dinner to attend last night and I offered to watch Finn. Hillz joined me and we ordered some Thai food, jointly figured out how to properly warm the bottle and traded off holding him when he got too heavy. How does my sister do this every day? Wow. Don't get me wrong, I love every second of it but that boy gets heavy. No wonder she's developed arm muscles.

Sometimes all Finn wants is for us to put on some hip hop and dance with him. So what if he can't walk or talk? This boy is gonna be one hell of a dancer. And maybe even a mixmaster to boot. There we three are, be bopping around the living room to Jurassic 5, Finn with a huge smile on his face and us two aunties joyously grooving to the music. It was a sight to behold. And the most fun I have had in weeks.

I'm Rather Transparent

2006-11-11T07:43:00.000-08:00

Witty. Sardonic. Pessimistic-ly charming.

Opinionated. Loud. Controlling.

Prissy. Kind. Positive.

Neurotic. Uber-planner. In charge, whether you like it or not.

Chipper. Obsessive. Sunny disposition.

Self-absorbed. Quirky. Major spaz.

Flirty. Sultry. Brazen.

Yep. That's me in a nutshell just about. Thanks for your input.

You Know Who You Remind Me Of?

2006-11-10T07:15:00.000-08:00

I was recently told someone thinks I am the female equivalent to Jack Black. I quipped that I am short & fat but apparently looks had nothing to do with it. I'm going to take it as a compliment and leave it at that.

Ahem.

I do that all the time. I meet someone and I liken then to someone else. Right now, at my office, there is a girl who (in my mind) is Joan Osborne, another who is Julianne Moore and a third who is a Stockard Channing. Oh yeah and the unfortunate one who reminds me of a Simpson's character. But she is not a man. D'oh!

That got me thinking. . . Do I remind you of anyone? If so, spill it. I want to know!

The Walking Dead Have Dollar Signs For Eyes

2006-11-09T09:53:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I had a breakdown of miniature proportions.

It started when I realized I need to switch my student loan payment withdrawal from my California bank account to my Washington bank account but before I could do that I had to remember where I put the paperwork and even worse, which loan it was. Then I had to call the 800 number just to be told that it would take 30 days for the process to be complete and that I had to go on line and print the form out. How helpful.

The website makes you enter you "PIN" even if you just want a stupid form. I haven't been on that website in about 2 years so it goes without saying I couldn't remember my PIN or if I ever even had one. When you register for a PIN it takes 3 days and they email it to you. Awesome. So this process will take 33 days. Meanwhile, I am stuck depositing money into my California account for another month to cover the deduction. It takes at least 7 days for my check to clear when I make a deposit into my CA account from WA.
It is the SAME BANK, people.

I checked my mail and yet again my refund check had not arrived from my car loan company. I need that $200! So I call to investigate and a woman with the SHRILLEST voice imaginable scraped her words on the chalkboard of my mind. Pure inescapable pain. She informed me that the form I had downloaded and faxed over a week ago had not been processed because I had selected wrong payment to be refunded. Gee, it would have been VERY helpful had the previous, non-shrill voiced customer service representative clued me in on that. Apparently when I make a payment from my e-bill pay it goes through some company called "Check Free" and if I request a refund of that payment the check would have to be cut to Check Free. And I have to get some sort of bank authorization for that. Fuck. Fuckity. Fuck.

And so I begin the whole process again. Ah, the ease of customer service. Ah, the joys of being a financial nincompoop.

Don't get me started on the Lab that has -for four months- called and threatened to put me in collections for a bill I have ALREADY paid. And each time they accuse me of giving them my incorrect address. Hello! Idiots! I have received your bill and I have paid it. WTF?! Please bugger off.

I clearly haven't been focused enough on my financial situation because trouble is rearing up like dead corpses from the ground. The zombies of my debt are after me!

I Couldn't Make This Up

2006-11-08T06:43:00.000-08:00

4th Grade Boy #1: "Have you been to Ben's house? What did you think of it?"

4th Grade Boy #2: "Ben's house is nice. I liked it."

4th Grade Boy #1: "Did you like it better than Sam's house?"

4th Grade Boy #2: "Yeah. It is taller."

I've got to admit, I think I missed my calling when I didn't get my teaching credential. Kids are awesome. And exhausting. After an hour and a half with them, I was like- don't you guys need to go back to school now? I admire teachers. It takes great stamina to keep up with their active minds. The conversations they have crack me up. As they were gluing the envelopes, I got to overhear some tidbits (like these).

4th Grade Boy #1: "Do you know what cheese is?"

4th Grade Boy #2: "No. What is it?"

4th Grade Boy #1: "It's basically edible mold."

Pheromones, Anxiety & A Little White Lie

2006-11-07T07:44:00.000-08:00

"Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, "Where have I gone wrong?" Then a voice says to me, "This is going to take more than one night." -Charles M. Schulz

Do you guys want me to talk about something other than boys or the lack there of or my struggle with loving myself? Because I really want to not bore you to tears when day upon day this blog is like listening in on a therapy session. But see, then I remember that I have to stop being a people pleaser. What is it that pleases me? Well, right now it is purging all this crap around relationships and worthiness. It will pass. Promise. (Said more to self than audience.)

There are other things going on of course. Things I can't talk about here and things that seem mundane. Like the anxiety I feel when I have to give a tour at work. Today there are 16 fourth graders coming for a tour of our facility and I've had to come up with a volunteer project for them. Lucky them, they get to seal envelopes with glue sticks. Woo!

You know how when you make a declaration, say like my current one where I declared myself free from the distractions of men and dating, and then the Universe gets a whiff and comes along dangling a carrot of temptation? Oh you know how that goes. Damn Universe- you think yourself such a clever little minx- I can outsmart you!

I kid you not, in the past 48 hours I have had 5- count them 1, 2, 3, 4, 5- men from my past message me or try to get a hold of me. And each one of them? Oh yes, flirting. Can they smell my unavailability through miles and the internet? Wow. That's some powerful stuff. Don't fret, I will be strong and pass this test. I don't back down from a challenge.

Hey, remember earlier when I said I should try to talk about things unrelated to boys and worthiness? I think I was lying.

I Hold The Key (but the lock is broken)

2006-11-06T07:59:00.000-08:00

Sometimes it is harder to deprive oneself of a pain than of a pleasure.
- F. Scott Fitzgerald

I don't feel like going into work today. We had a fundraiser yesterday and I was on my feet for 8 hours, never ate a proper meal and my big toes are sore. Why just the big toes? You've got me.

I feel a bit antsy, internally. Like even if I took today off I would go stir crazy in my dark apartment as it storms outside. I want human connection. I want busywork. I want to let my overactive brain focus on something productive. If I sat still I would overthink. I must stop the overthinking.

It's not exactly a freak out- what my brain is doing these past few days. It's more like I am onto something, like I've got my hook into the meaty part of what's been bothering me and the fucked up part of me is trying to distract me from really making a positive change. This past weekend I've wallowed in bad feeling, acted out of character, felt sorry for myself, acted passive aggressive and had a brief run in with neediness. It was a full weekend folks.

My horoscope said this to me today: "Learning to find fulfillment in yourself and your life as it is in the present could help you fill any sense of emptiness you may have.. .When we search for gratification outside of ourselves it usually means that we are not giving our spirit what it needs to feel fulfilled, which makes it easier for us to focus on ourselves and more rewarding ways to feed our deepest yearnings. Once we realize that we hold the key to our happiness, we will stop searching for things outside of ourselves."

I have a real issue with self-fulfillment. It's at the heart of my problem here. Why is it so hard to look inside to find your happiness?

Detach From the Plan

2006-11-05T08:38:00.000-08:00

Plans are useless, but planning is invaluable.
- Winston Churchill

"We easily confuse plans with planning, dreams with dreaming, and love with loving. The wisdom of what Churchill says is that we live like hungry fisherman: sewing and casting our nets, though we never really know what they will catch, never really know what will feed us until it is brought aboard. So, as Buddhists say, to be a good fisherman you must detach yourself from the dream of the fish. This makes whatever is caught or found a treasure. "

- The Book of Awakening, Mark Nepo

Actions & Attitude

2006-11-04T07:33:00.000-08:00

I was feeling really free after my earlier epiphany this week about not actively pursuing a love connection. I felt liberated and hopeful instead of anxious and moody. I had a few days where I actually didn't give the thought of men all my extra energy. I quite liked the feeling.

But then there is P. My friend P is my first Seattle friend. We met a couple of weeks after I had moved here. His intentions were likely romantically-inclined when he approached me though I went into our initial meeting so preoccupied by my job search and the overwhelming newness of having just moved, dating was honestly the last thing on my mind. Yet, there was an immediate attraction and comfort being around him. Initially, I said I'd rather just take it slow and see if something meaningful could develop rather than jump into a physical relationship. He agreed even though it was out of character for him to do so. He'd been "dating" for about 5 years with no actual girlfriend coming out of all the effort.

From the book's standpoint, P was totally into me in the beginning. He was eager to spend time with me. He was incredibly helpful and supportive as I got used to living here. We went places and he showed me around. Then. . .nothing. It. . just. . .stopped. And I am trying to figure out why.

It was confusing for me to just "hang out" with someone, completely unclear if we were supposed to be seeing other people or be monogamous even though we hadn't slept together. When I would bring up such a subject, he'd kind of talk about it but he wasn't very forthcoming. It just confused me more. Was it him or me or the combination of "us" that wasn't working? I started to tell him I thought maybe we should just be friends. I didn't get why we weren't progressing towards a full blown relationship. Something was off. He would always reply a resounding "No!" to my suggestion of just friends. Uh, ok . . . Now I am even more confused.

So then I moved onto the next phase where I told him I wanted us to see other people but we could still hang out. I went on a couple of dates. None of them panned out but they sure did add to my confusion about dating and it became obvious my intentions for dating were not on the up and up, as we have discussed. Hence my recent epiphany and new direction with the whole dating thing- as in, I am not going to date right now.

But P doesn't know this. We hang out maybe once a week, hardly ever on the weekend but we still talk practically every day. He doesn't ask me about stuff like this- like what is going on internally. He just backs off and gives me space if I am acting weird. I want to tell him that we have to stop all the physical aspects of our "friendship" because it is truly a let down when we do engage in such behavior but then he is sporadic about spending time with me, he never asks me to stay the night at his apartment and we are four months into whatever the fuck this is and still, we aren't a couple. It just isn't going to happen. And oh yeah I am taking a break from dating. Right.

I am scared and sad to have to tell him because he has honestly been a big part of my Seattle existence. He has shining moments when he is a good friend and a lot of fun to be around. If I tell him, I am going to have to stop hanging out with him for a while so we can adjust to the idea. It just feels like we are using one another until something better comes along and nothing better comes along when you are doing something like that. And oh yeah right I am taking a break from dating. Shit.

It sure is hard to give up your crutch.

I suppose every new way of being takes time to get into the groove of. There are bound to be setbacks and the occasional snag. I am not going to beat myself up. Just look at the reality of the situation, make changes and move on. But I can't keep saying one thing and doing another. I need to line up my actions with my intentions.

Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head

2006-11-02T07:30:00.000-08:00

I was at a tabling event (that's when non-profits go to for-profits, set up a table with information and sit around with a smile plastered on their face for a minimum of 2 torturous hours hoping someone will come up and speak to them about all the good work they do for the community) a few days ago for work. Actually, it was on Halloween. Some tablers showed up in costume. I didn't. Let's not go into how depressing that was for me. That is not the point of this post.

I ended up being seated next to a guy who knows my boss. Nice fella. We chatted a bit and the conversation turned to the weather. The cold has started to come, I guess it is unseasonably chilly from what he told me. I mentioned the fact that I desperately need an ice scraper. When I go out to my car in the morning, I spend about 10 minutes with a wad of crumpled paper (one of the only reasons having a messy car is a plus) trying to get the ice off enough so I can drive to work without killing anyone. It doesn't really work that well and my hands de-thaw a couple of hours later. Have I mentioned my work place is cold? It's like the heater was on during summer and air conditioning is on during winter. What gives!?

Ok, so back to the guy. He said that by Thursday the rain would start. And that it wouldn't stop until March. MARCH. And guess what? Today is Thursday. I woke up to the sound of rain hitting the dumpster outside my bedroom window. (Yes, there is a dumpster outside my window- please don't get me started about how unpleasing those aesthetics are.) He's lived here 10 years so I guess he's got the weather pattern down.

Necessities For Living In Seattle:
1.) An ice scraper
2.) A rain coat
3.) Rain boots
4.) Very warm clothes
5.) A love of the dark
6.) A variety of indoor activities that make you happy
7.) One of those special lamps
8.) Enjoyment of being wet and cold and in the dark

Hello rain! Glad to meet ya! Good thing I am stocking up on all my new hobbies.

It's Come To This

2006-11-01T07:13:00.000-08:00

So I've come to some serious conclusions.

1) I am tired of feeling used.

2) I hate My Space. I am deleting my account in its entirety.

3) I deserve better than what I have settled for in the romance department lately.

4) I need to give myself a good chunk of non-dating/non-boy focused time. It's all about M-E.

5) I do not have the answers to any of my questions. I'm tired of the questions.

6) I use men as a way of validating my shitty feelings about myself. That is so 1992.

7) I want more but am not ready for it. Yet.

8) Worrying about men liking me is such a waste of my precious time.

9) Why don't I like me enough to not care so much?

10) See? More questions. Refer to #5.

This is the beginning of something even though it feels like the end. I moved here to start a new life. I've got the new apartment. The new city. The new job. Hell, I even have a new haircut. But when it comes to love? It's the same ol', same ol' crap. It's my internal dialogue that isn't healthy. So I am giving myself the gift of time. I'm going to feel the loneliness of not actively looking for dates or having plans with someone with potential romantic possibilities. I'm going to get down to business with the business of knowing myself. And I damn well better find some hobbies because lord knows I will have plenty of free time on my hands without the preoccupation that boys have given me. Whatever will I do with myself?

I truly feel like this is the first step in becoming more the person I am meant to be. I've got to have a lot more respect and love for myself than I have lately. I'm having a Come To Jesus talk with my self-esteem. I don't want to feel less than anymore.

This Post Has Nothing to Do With Halloween

2006-10-31T06:39:00.000-08:00

. . . Except how scary it is that this book is so right on.

I know, I know, everyone and their grandmother was talking about this book years ago. I am tragically unhip, remember? But seriously, my friend Faith sent this book to me and I've got to tell you- It is exactly what I (and countless other women) need to hear.

It's not like I didn't "know" this stuff before but it's timely right now. How often have we, as women, created a whole relationship, a slew of excuses, blah blah blah when really we should have just admitted to ourselves, "He's just not that into me." Because honey? He isn't.

If a guy likes you, he will pursue you. He won't be too busy to call. He won't even let travel dissuade him from picking up the phone just to hear your voice. No amount of fatigue, frustration or laziness is going to keep a man who is interested in you from contacting you. Think about it.

When I think back on my successful relationships, I never had to wonder if they were into me. They just were! And they showed it! The amount of guessing I had to do about where I stood in their priority list was minimal to none. So I say thank you- Tomato, Mikey, Dumpling, Cowboy, Jeremiah, Brian and Phil- you guys prove this theory. All the others? Prove the opposite. Thanks to them too and good riddance.

After talking to Big Dave and Hillz last night, I am even closer to completely swearing off dating. What if I just said, "no thanks" and stopped actively looking instead of just pretending that that is what I am doing when really I am secretly hoping someone will get a clue and ask me out and we will fall madly in love? I'd have a lot more free time and frankly, I'd be waaaay more sane if I shelved the dating bit. But am I strong enough to just say no? Can my mind, so used to being preoccupied with this crap, know what to do when it realizes this isn't our number one concern?

Best Medicine

2006-10-30T06:49:00.000-08:00

Honestly, nothing makes me feel better than being around my nephew. All he has to do is smile at me and I forget whatever troubles me. Moving here was the best decision I ever made.

Makes Me Want To Frolick

2006-10-29T09:30:00.000-08:00

It's dark here more than it is light. They warned me about that. But what they didn't tell me was that the colors of fall would be brilliant. It's all I can do not to plop myself in a pile of these gorgeous leaves and play. Instead, I take walks, snap photos and delicately place a few captives in my pocket. I love autumn in Seattle.

I Want It

2006-10-28T09:03:00.000-07:00

I want to wake up to someone. I want to stay in bed because there is someone there I don't want to leave. I want to plan our day together. I want to make breakfast and surprise him by remembering how he likes his coffee. I want be an "us."

This is a longing I have not admitted to in a very, very long time.

Instead I wake to my two cats climbing over me, in a cold apartment, singing this song as I make my lone cup of tea...

If I don't stand out like a star among the moons
if I am always late and he always backs away too soon
I walk the world with a skin so thin
I can wear no adequate protection
everything comes crashing in.
If I'm too wide open for this place
but not enough for him to recognize my face

How will he find me
with no one's arms to gather me together?
How will he find me?
Only held by gravity, faded with uncertainty
no longer young and not that pretty
how will he ever find me?

It never seems to matter, the tears I cry.
There's a well inside of me that never runs dry
from being born I guess, and born in life until we die.
The music and the hope for love keep me alive
still I wonder, how will he find me?

And what shall I do with a drunken heart
with goggle eyes and the troubling hunger
reaching forward to trick mirror men
leaning out and in again.
If love is a game how can it be creation?
And if I'm wasting my time
how will he find me?

-How Will He Find Me, The Weepies

I'm A Genius

2006-10-27T09:57:00.000-07:00

So we all know that I am a bit... uh, challenged, when it comes to finding my way around Seattle, specifically, downtown Seattle. I was asked to come to Qwest Field to pick up a donation from the Seattle Seahawks. They are a big supporter of our agency so of course, I am going, no questions asked.

There seemed to be an outrageous amount of cars and trucks at Qwest that day. When I finally did find parking (after 45 minutes of driving around), I had to pay $10 for it and walk for blocks and blocks back to the main entrance. I'm thinking, "How in the hell am I going to cart 4 boxes of shirts and school supplies back to my car?!" But no matter, I am already 25 minutes late so time is of the essence. When I arrived at the office the nice reception lady informed me that the person I was supposedly picking the items up from was at their Kirkland office.

People! Kirkland is not even close to where I am standing in that moment. It's an entire freeway away. About 20 minutes away without traffic.

I make a joke and back out of there, leaving an apologetic voicemail on the guy's machine, offering to reschedule. Why didn't he tell me he had two offices?! I feel as though I have ASS written on my forehead. I am such a heel. Such an ass. Such an assheel. (I just made that up, you can borrow it.)

So between the gas, the time, the parking fee, I figure it costs a buck a minute to be an idiot. Or an assheel, as the case may be. I hate when I have to pay money to learn a lesson.

P.S. All that traffic? Yeah, the Rolling Stones were playing there that week and had like 5 gazillion trucks with the set stuff in it taking up all the parking.

Egg Me On

2006-10-26T08:00:00.000-07:00

With my negative bank balance and no plans for Halloween, it looks as though I won't be dressing up. Again. I guess that seals my fate as a grown up.

Yuck.

While I don't mind apartment living as much as I thought I would, it does suck that kids won't be coming to my door to Trick or Treat. I probably won't even carve a pumpkin because there is no where to put it. I didn't even hang my scary goblin face that cackles when you come near it. I'm stuck in the netherworld between being a kid and having a kid.

Flashback: One Halloween when I was in junior high some friends and I were trick or treating and a group of high school kids egged us. We went back home and told my mom who said (and I am paraphrasing here), "Grab the eggs out of the fridge and get in the car!" Woah! My mom is the coolest! We piled in the station wagon and my two friends, Jake and CJ (both softball players), hung out the back waiting to see the targets. When we discovered them, they pummelled them with eggs. Of course they retaliated with eggs and rocks so my mom peeled out of there. We went back home to gorge ourselves on candy, victorious. It was awesome!

Your Money Is No Good Here

2006-10-25T08:13:00.000-07:00

I've really must stop doing crack. It's not good for me.

I can't seem to get my e-payments in line since moving here and being forced to open a new bank account. First, I accidentally over paid about, oh, $172 to the electric company and now? Well now I seem to have set up my account to withdraw my car loan payment on the 16th AND also have the loan company withdraw the same amount on the 24th.

I am a financial planning idiot.

Thank goodness I can take my - $1.49 bank account and hold it up against all my other stellar qualities and not feel so bad about myself.

{clears throat} Ahem! {hangs head}

Clarity Comes

2006-10-24T19:55:00.000-07:00

At 4am, I had an epiphany. I woke up and thought:

I don't have to feel bad. I have a choice.

So I chose to let it go.

Because you know what? All that really happened was the idea I had of someone turned out to be untrue. And all I lost? Was the daydream. And honestly, there are plenty of other men to daydream about. Ones I haven't met yet. Who don't come with any sort of reality. The safe kind of daydreaming.

See with this latest fella, I felt like he was one way- full of charm and smarts with a sexy look to him. I thought- wow is this an apparition? And then after the second "date" it turns out he really was just that- an apparition. I don't want to spend any more energy on a man who lacks integrity, who isn't forthcoming, who isn't thoughtful or kind. I deserve better.

I actually believe I deserve better. That's a huge step for me.

And it isn't like he dumped me. It just became very clear to me that whatever had been progressing was at a standstill. Whether that was just a chemistry thing, that whole lame drama about the My Space stalker or his current two month work stint in another country- whatever the reason, it feels done. Sometimes you just know. There were too many pieces that didn't click. And I don't have to make it right. And I don't have to be overly accommodating. And I don't have to feel like a loser. I just have to let him go. Good-bye apparition.

Love is a gamble. We all know this. I guess I just needed to remind myself that if I don't roll the dice, I'll never know if I could land a pair of aces. Wait- is that even a correct gambling metaphor? Whichever. You know what I mean. Practice makes perfect. Keep your chin up. Yadda yadda yadda.

Thanks for all of your supportive comments and emails yesterday. It really helped me to see things clearer.

"The music and the hope for love keep me alive still I wonder, how will he find me?" -The Weepies

No Amount of Ice Cream Can Fix This

2006-10-22T20:17:00.000-07:00

I'm way deep in melancholy. Excuse me while I cry into my pillow.

Once again I have learned that you can't look outside of yourself to fill the holes inside of you.

You see, I tried to put myself out on limb and like someone. I got my hopes up. I invested energy. Ok, I had a daydream or two. And really what did all that amount to? Nada. Just another lesson learned. Just another story to tell my girlfriends when we sit around and bitch about boys. Ugh. I want a happy story! I think I want it too much. So of course, I won't be getting it any time soon.

Try as I might, I am no good at this dating thing. One crappy experience has me pledging myself to the nunnery and thinking up grandiose schemes to propel my Self-Improvement Plan. Did you ever do that? When your heart cracks a bit, you go internal while externally professing that this is JUST what you needed to happen because now you can focus on "you" and ya know, lose 60 lbs or start taking Tai Chi or learn to resole shoes or some shit.

Sometimes I really feel like Bridget Jones in that scene where she is drinking alone and singing "All By Myself." I can watch myself from afar and chuckle because I can identify with the lonely heroine but inside I'm trying not to cry because goodlordalmighty I don't want to be that way/feel that way.

I'm not a quitter by nature but I seriously think about just turning off that part of my heart that longs for a partner and to be in love. Does anyone know where the switch is? Right. We don't have access to that information. Damn it.

Sometimes being alive hurts.

Be The Friend You Want to Have

2006-10-21T09:30:00.000-07:00

"If you tell me you already understand, I feel a little pessimistic. If you say you do not understand, I feel more optimistic."
-Thich Nhat Hahn

This Vietnamese monk, so renowned for his insight, helps us remember that no one can live up to their image of themselves. We can only live out our questions.

I have learned from both sides- from being the one with all the answers and from being the one with all the questions- that there is no real bond with others until we share the evidence of who we are and not just our conclusions. It's taken a long time, but I finally get it. I cannot have both truth and love in my life until I speak from the "I" and stop putting all my pain into "you," until I own all my stumblings and stop projecting my misfortunes on to everyone nearby.

Having an honest friend- one before whom you can dump all your heart's pockets and still feel that you are worth something- is a form of wealth that will buy you nothing but will give you everything. And mysteriously and rightly, to find such a friend, we must be such a friend.

- taken from The Book of Awakening, Mark Nepo

This Is Not A Competition

2006-10-20T07:18:00.000-07:00

. . . or is it?

Casual dating feels more like a contest than actual dating because when people are dating multiple people someone eventually is going to win out, no? At least, aren't the participants hoping for that? That possibly one person will drop off or make some erroneous error forever marring them in the eyes of their potential boyfriend/girlfriend sits, teetering, on the fence between indecision and decision. Between commitment and playing the field. Between you or them.

But if you like someone and enjoy their company but aren't 100% sure you can see a future with them, isn't it fair to leave it open to seeing other people? Or does the actual act of seeing other people interfere with the knowing if that person is future-worthy or not?

Do you see how a person could get confused? I surely hope so. I tend to over-think everything and this situation is no different. But seriously, isn't this shit confusing?

Look, I've done my fair share of dating. I was on Match.com, Yahoo Personals, Craigs List, blah blah, blah for quite a while back in the day and during that period of dating frenzy my friends were begging for some sort of chart to keep up with all the men I was seeing. It was exhausting and most of them fizzled out after 3-5 dates. The equation didn't really cut it for me. Expending 110% energy and getting 45% back? Something is definitely amiss there.

Then there were the relationships that started with a bang- you look at them, they look at you and viola! you're in love. Hey, it happens. Or the ones that grew out of friendship and weren't full of angst or the drama of dating multiple people simultaneously and having to decide. Somebody's gonna get hurt when you are juggling a couple of suitors and selfishly, I don't want it to be me. Is that wrong?

Some people say that if it is too much work at the beginning, it isn't meant to be. I'm still debating that one. Though I'd sure like to just meet a swell fella- he'd like me and I'd like him and the thought of pursuing other people wouldn't enter our minds because the enamored feeling between us was too special to ignore. I'm starting to feel like that is a lot to ask. And that makes me want to heave a big sigh and pull myself out of the game.

Insert Foot In Mouth

2006-10-19T16:04:00.000-07:00

We have a volunteer that comes in every week. A very sweet man. He has limited capabilities with dexterity and comprehension and is also in a wheelchair. These are important facts to know so you can accurately picture how the following scene played out.

Volunteer: Hey Sizzle! I can stay later today because I am not taking the bus.

Me: Oh really? Are you going to walk home?

Ohmygod did I just SAY that?!

Luckily he didn't catch it. But unluckily, my boss did. She cornered me a few minutes later in my cubicle wiping tears from her eyes, her snorting laughter echoing throughout the office. She managed to ask me, "Do I need to sign you up for a sensitivity training?"

I knew it was bad when it came out of my mouth. I knew it and I couldn't take it back. But really, what should I have said in that instance? "What are you going to do? Roll home?" That sounds just as bad! And yes, my co-workers and I laughed at that too. I am so going to hell.

Meanwhile, my boss has made the rounds telling everyone about it. I can hear her snorting about it right now.

Snort!