But first...how badass is Daryl on Walking Dead? Finally he gets to kick some ass and I'm happy to see him being heroic rather than moping.
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I am definitely not a hot weather person. If I were Mother Nature, every day in Jersey would be about 60-65 degrees and sunnyish - not too hot, not too cold. Perfect weather for jeans, a t-shirt, a cardigan or light jacket, and either boots or sandals depending on my mood. So don't think I'm a person who only wants 85 degree days and sun. I like it to be on the chilly side, and even a 40 degree day can make me smile because it means I can wear a cute coat and over the knee boots with a pretty Irish-knit sweater.
But Mother Nature has been messing with us for pretty much the whole winter. I mean, on Christmas Day it was in the 60's and then we had over 2 feet of snow during a recent blizzard, and it's been varying between warmish and coldish through most of the season. Totally inconsistent and wacky. However, now it is just downright cold.
Our thermostats are registering around zero and below, and then when you add the wind to it, it's just a little too North Poley for me. Yesterday, I woke up to find that my house was an ice cube. I felt the radiators and there was heat coming out of them, and the boiler was working as well. WTF? I had someone from PSE&G come out to check things out and they basically told me that everything is working the way it should - it is just so friggin cold that the heat in the house just isn't enough to combat it. JFC.
So then, the bathroom situations happened. Our downstairs bathroom toilet froze - meaning that the water flushed down but then would not refill. Hubby took it apart and tried to fix it, but there was nothing he could do. Last night, I was frozen to the bone so I went to take a shower in the master bathroom. I start the water and then get undressed....and by then, the shower (it's a stall shower) was full and nearly overflowing. Hubby took a look at that as well and found that whatever was in the pipes (I guess just general pipe sludge, ew) had frozen. We tried to defrost it with boiling water to no avail. Finally, after a good hour, the water went down but by then I was hibernating under the covers and the shower had to wait until morning.
Long story short - winter sucks and it needs to be spring now.
Monday, February 15, 2016
Thursday, February 11, 2016
The Soundtrack of My Life
Music has always been a driving force in my life. Even now, if I hear a certain song it will bring me right back to that moment in time in my mind, no matter how long ago that moment might be, I feel like I have a running soundtrack to my life....and here it is:
The Beatles - Octopus' Garden:
The Beatles - Her Majesty
John Cougar - Pink Houses:
The Manhattans - Shining Star:
Van Halen - Jump:
Don Henley - Boys of Summer:
Grease 2 Soundtrack - Back to School:
Guns n' Roses - Patience:
John Cougar Mellencamp - Wild Nights
John Cougar Mellencamp - Last Chance
Pearl Jam - Even Flow:
Pearl Jam - Black:
Hole - Violet:
Van Halen - Why Can't This Be Love?
Husker Du - Could You Be The One?:
Soup Dragons - I'm Free:
Goo Goo Dolls - Two Days in February:
Fugazi - Margin Walker:
Four Seasons - Can't Take My Eyes Off You:
Destiny's Child - Lose My Breath:
White Stripes - Fell in Love With a Girl:
Hole - Beautiful Son:
John Mellencamp - Lonely Ol' Night
White Stripes - Seven Nation Army:
My Chemical Romance - Famous Last Words:
Lana Del Rey - basically all of Born To Die:
The Beatles - Her Majesty (again, for a different reason):
Miley Cyrus - Wrecking Ball:
Pearl Jam - Sirens:
I was going to write a little about each song and why it struck a chord with me at particular times in my life...but I decided not to do that. I truly don't need to write it out, because when I just look at the title of a song, it brings me to the pink houses we rented every summer down the shore, or dancing with friends at the Johnny Cougar concert, or my husband yelling at me to turn down the White Stripes and me turning it up even louder. A whole story on each isn't needed because when I hear the song, I see the whole picture in my mind. Music is such a wonderful thing!
(And, if you really need to see how wordy I can get with these memories, read this about the song Even Flow and how it changed the course of my life.)
The Beatles - Octopus' Garden:
The Beatles - Her Majesty
John Cougar - Pink Houses:
The Manhattans - Shining Star:
Van Halen - Jump:
Don Henley - Boys of Summer:
Grease 2 Soundtrack - Back to School:
Guns n' Roses - Patience:
John Cougar Mellencamp - Wild Nights
John Cougar Mellencamp - Last Chance
Pearl Jam - Even Flow:
Pearl Jam - Black:
Hole - Violet:
Van Halen - Why Can't This Be Love?
Husker Du - Could You Be The One?:
Soup Dragons - I'm Free:
Goo Goo Dolls - Two Days in February:
Fugazi - Margin Walker:
Four Seasons - Can't Take My Eyes Off You:
Destiny's Child - Lose My Breath:
White Stripes - Fell in Love With a Girl:
Hole - Beautiful Son:
John Mellencamp - Lonely Ol' Night
White Stripes - Seven Nation Army:
My Chemical Romance - Famous Last Words:
Lana Del Rey - basically all of Born To Die:
The Beatles - Her Majesty (again, for a different reason):
Miley Cyrus - Wrecking Ball:
Pearl Jam - Sirens:
I was going to write a little about each song and why it struck a chord with me at particular times in my life...but I decided not to do that. I truly don't need to write it out, because when I just look at the title of a song, it brings me to the pink houses we rented every summer down the shore, or dancing with friends at the Johnny Cougar concert, or my husband yelling at me to turn down the White Stripes and me turning it up even louder. A whole story on each isn't needed because when I hear the song, I see the whole picture in my mind. Music is such a wonderful thing!
(And, if you really need to see how wordy I can get with these memories, read this about the song Even Flow and how it changed the course of my life.)
Tuesday, February 02, 2016
Paralyzations Via Renovations
First: is paralyzation a word? Apparently not...but it is now!
There is so much that needs to be done in my house. I'm talking major renovations that are going to cost good money and lots of time. One is the outside of the house. I've got an old Tudor-style home, built in 1932. It's got brick, siding, wood shingles, and wood accents...and all are in need of replacement (well, I guess not the brick. Lucky me!). With that comes a new sliding glass door going out to the deck (or French doors, perhaps), a new front door, a new side door, and a new garage door. This is some costly stuff.
Then, I've got two bathrooms upstairs that are in need of replacement. The main hallway bathroom is huge and has a big jacuzzi tub...that does not drain, and therefore can't be used. All of the fixtures are black, so they collect dust like crazy. There's a pedestal sink, which I thought I would love because it looks so pretty...but it sucks. You can't put anything on it (like a brush or hairdryer or makeup while you're using them) and you can't store anything under it (like towels or medicine or whatever). It has bright makeup lights like you would see in a movie star's dressing room. Way too much for me. And the worst part is the wallpaper. It has three wallpapers, to be exact - the bottom is black with little while shield-shaped figures on it. The top is grey without much of anything special. And the middle - oh the middle. It has Trojan horses, in black, white and gold, traipsing around the room. HORRIBLE. The only thing I like about this bathroom is the beautiful chandelier I put in a few years back. Other than that, it is huge with so much potential and I hate nearly every square inch of it.
My master bathroom on the other hand is small, with only a stall shower (no tub). I could probably live with that if the tub in the other bathroom worked. But the worst part of the master bath is that it was last renovated in the 60's or 70's so it has that lovely avocado-green tile on the bottom half of the walls. I've painted the top half white and put some awesome artwork in there to try to cut the green...but honey, it's GREEN. It needs to come down.
And my kitchen is another source of renovation fever. The wood cabinets were painted a number of years ago and I can live with them...but the floor is the ugliest brown linoleum and the countertops are wood-patterned formica. Horrendous. There is some charm in there, though - a brick archway between the kitchen and breakfast nook, wood beamed ceilings, built in cabinets in the nook. But still, the floors and counters and layout have to go. Again, I've decorated around it all and it's not terrible...but it's time for a reno.
Basically, I am overwhelmed by all of the construction that would have to be done. The big bathroom and master bathroom have to be gutted...and my hope is to extend the master bath to the length of the house so I can have a bigger bathroom and add a second walk-in closet to the room. The kitchen is always a huge undertaking. And the outside of the house...ugh, we got one estimate at $30,000. And that's something that no one will even really notice!
Since I am overwhelmed by the idea of construction, I have turned my sights on my bedroom. It needs no construction. It's a big room with lots of potential. For some reason, when we moved in, I wanted faux paint on the walls...in green. I loved it for a long time but it has definitely outstayed it's welcome. I've been thinking a lot about what I want to do in there and now *that* is paralyzing me. Right now it is a mishmosh of styles. There is no cohesiveness to the room and it feels all over the place.
I was talking to my husband last night about redecorating the bedroom (which is going to mean new furniture, bedding, rug, curtains, shades, accessories...everything) and I told him how I was feeling overwhelmed because I didn't know where to start. I want the bedroom to be perfect - to capture our lifestyle and our family and our tastes, to represent who we are, and to give us a peaceful place to relax and sleep. And maybe a little romance in there, too!
As he always does, he talked me down from my ledge. He pointed out our living room, which is exactly what we want it to be. Elegant and rich, but super comfortable and lived in. TV front and center since that's our daily life, but held in a huge, hand painted armoire that doubles as a piece of art, really. He pointed out the dining room, which again is just what we wanted. Not fancy, a little farmhouse-y, beautifully comfortable for every day use, gorgeous colors with the perfect artwork. And he pointed out our office, which, yes, once again is exactly our vision. Dark and moody, deep wine-colored walls, dark wooden bookcases filled to the brim with well loved books. Very Moroccan, layered fabrics and pillows on a comfortable pull-out couch, beautiful desk with gorgeous accessories from our travels. The downstairs bathroom is so "us" too - because I took a chance and did something really edgy in an old house. I painted the bottom of the walls a really dark charcoal grey and the top part a metallic silver, put a punky chandelier in there, and then used pink accents in the dramatically punk art. It's one of my favorite rooms. And finally, TJK's room. A perfect room for a tween-going-on-25. A soft sky blue, with hand painted clouds and a blooming cherry blossom tree, gorgeous bedding, shelves for all of her trinkets and collectibles.
Basically, all of the rooms we have redecorated since moving in represent us well. The rooms that need to be redone - the master bedroom and bathroom, the main upstairs bathroom, the kitchen - are the ones we have not touched since moving in. Like the bedroom - the furniture is from our apartment. There's a room-dividing screen, also from our apartment. And there is a big comfy chair in there, which is from an old living room set from the apartment. Nothing in the bedroom was chosen for this bedroom. This made me take a breath and realize that when I decorate rooms in my house, I do it well. The bedroom is just the next on the list...to be followed closely by the bathrooms and kitchen and outside...
There is so much that needs to be done in my house. I'm talking major renovations that are going to cost good money and lots of time. One is the outside of the house. I've got an old Tudor-style home, built in 1932. It's got brick, siding, wood shingles, and wood accents...and all are in need of replacement (well, I guess not the brick. Lucky me!). With that comes a new sliding glass door going out to the deck (or French doors, perhaps), a new front door, a new side door, and a new garage door. This is some costly stuff.
Then, I've got two bathrooms upstairs that are in need of replacement. The main hallway bathroom is huge and has a big jacuzzi tub...that does not drain, and therefore can't be used. All of the fixtures are black, so they collect dust like crazy. There's a pedestal sink, which I thought I would love because it looks so pretty...but it sucks. You can't put anything on it (like a brush or hairdryer or makeup while you're using them) and you can't store anything under it (like towels or medicine or whatever). It has bright makeup lights like you would see in a movie star's dressing room. Way too much for me. And the worst part is the wallpaper. It has three wallpapers, to be exact - the bottom is black with little while shield-shaped figures on it. The top is grey without much of anything special. And the middle - oh the middle. It has Trojan horses, in black, white and gold, traipsing around the room. HORRIBLE. The only thing I like about this bathroom is the beautiful chandelier I put in a few years back. Other than that, it is huge with so much potential and I hate nearly every square inch of it.
My master bathroom on the other hand is small, with only a stall shower (no tub). I could probably live with that if the tub in the other bathroom worked. But the worst part of the master bath is that it was last renovated in the 60's or 70's so it has that lovely avocado-green tile on the bottom half of the walls. I've painted the top half white and put some awesome artwork in there to try to cut the green...but honey, it's GREEN. It needs to come down.
And my kitchen is another source of renovation fever. The wood cabinets were painted a number of years ago and I can live with them...but the floor is the ugliest brown linoleum and the countertops are wood-patterned formica. Horrendous. There is some charm in there, though - a brick archway between the kitchen and breakfast nook, wood beamed ceilings, built in cabinets in the nook. But still, the floors and counters and layout have to go. Again, I've decorated around it all and it's not terrible...but it's time for a reno.
Basically, I am overwhelmed by all of the construction that would have to be done. The big bathroom and master bathroom have to be gutted...and my hope is to extend the master bath to the length of the house so I can have a bigger bathroom and add a second walk-in closet to the room. The kitchen is always a huge undertaking. And the outside of the house...ugh, we got one estimate at $30,000. And that's something that no one will even really notice!
Since I am overwhelmed by the idea of construction, I have turned my sights on my bedroom. It needs no construction. It's a big room with lots of potential. For some reason, when we moved in, I wanted faux paint on the walls...in green. I loved it for a long time but it has definitely outstayed it's welcome. I've been thinking a lot about what I want to do in there and now *that* is paralyzing me. Right now it is a mishmosh of styles. There is no cohesiveness to the room and it feels all over the place.
I was talking to my husband last night about redecorating the bedroom (which is going to mean new furniture, bedding, rug, curtains, shades, accessories...everything) and I told him how I was feeling overwhelmed because I didn't know where to start. I want the bedroom to be perfect - to capture our lifestyle and our family and our tastes, to represent who we are, and to give us a peaceful place to relax and sleep. And maybe a little romance in there, too!
As he always does, he talked me down from my ledge. He pointed out our living room, which is exactly what we want it to be. Elegant and rich, but super comfortable and lived in. TV front and center since that's our daily life, but held in a huge, hand painted armoire that doubles as a piece of art, really. He pointed out the dining room, which again is just what we wanted. Not fancy, a little farmhouse-y, beautifully comfortable for every day use, gorgeous colors with the perfect artwork. And he pointed out our office, which, yes, once again is exactly our vision. Dark and moody, deep wine-colored walls, dark wooden bookcases filled to the brim with well loved books. Very Moroccan, layered fabrics and pillows on a comfortable pull-out couch, beautiful desk with gorgeous accessories from our travels. The downstairs bathroom is so "us" too - because I took a chance and did something really edgy in an old house. I painted the bottom of the walls a really dark charcoal grey and the top part a metallic silver, put a punky chandelier in there, and then used pink accents in the dramatically punk art. It's one of my favorite rooms. And finally, TJK's room. A perfect room for a tween-going-on-25. A soft sky blue, with hand painted clouds and a blooming cherry blossom tree, gorgeous bedding, shelves for all of her trinkets and collectibles.
Basically, all of the rooms we have redecorated since moving in represent us well. The rooms that need to be redone - the master bedroom and bathroom, the main upstairs bathroom, the kitchen - are the ones we have not touched since moving in. Like the bedroom - the furniture is from our apartment. There's a room-dividing screen, also from our apartment. And there is a big comfy chair in there, which is from an old living room set from the apartment. Nothing in the bedroom was chosen for this bedroom. This made me take a breath and realize that when I decorate rooms in my house, I do it well. The bedroom is just the next on the list...to be followed closely by the bathrooms and kitchen and outside...
Monday, February 01, 2016
George Michael Was Right: A Quick Remembrance of a Vodka Tour
When we were in Russia, we were so excited to taste some true Russian vodka. Well ok, I was really the one who was super excited and hubby sort of just came along, but it was all very exciting to me. We saw the palaces and churches by day, and the boozy fun side of St. Petersburg at night.
Throughout the trip, I had seen this couple who were hitting the same sights we were. They had that 50's rockabilly aesthetic, which is one that I really like looking at but have no interest in trying to pull off. I know I have my own style which I adhere to pretty closely, but the idea of dressing in that same rockabilly style every day is not attractive to me. However, it does fascinate me. All the cherry-print skirts and red and white bandannas and peep-toe shoes are pretty cute (on other people). And the pin curls in their hair...yesss. Again, not my personal style but definitely a stand out. Because they were dressed like this all the time, they definitely caught my eye. I found myself thinking that I'd like to meet them and maybe hang out for a drink because they must be pretty cool.
When we got to the meeting point for our vodka tour (you can't just go out on your own in Russia - you need a very expensive visa to do so, and since we were only there a couple of days it made more sense to do tours), I saw the rockabilly couple waiting as well. They must have seen us around too, because they gave us a little head-nod of acknowledgment. As we boarded the boat (yes, it was a boat down the Neva River with vodka all the time, and it was amazing!), they chose to sit next to us. Perhaps they thought we were cool, as well? Well, duh.
The shots started flowing and we sang and yelled and chanted and also shopped and did some sightseeing and took a million pictures. We got to see another side of St. Petersberg - a really cool downtown side where young people were hanging out and drinking coffee at cafes, walking hand in hand down the Neva, and honestly, just being people. There is nothing like traveling and seeing foreign places to bring down your prejudices about other cultures and countries. We hit up a great chocolate shop, saw some amazing sculptures, and yelled and waved to anyone on a bridge as our boat sailed under it. We even learned to read some Russian, which I absolutely loved even whilst tipsy on the vodka.
And this rockabilly couple, the ones whose fashion choices led me to believe they were so awesome that we could be lifelong friends, were beyond annoying. They were loud and obnoxious and not in the fun way. They were crass and uncouth, and as Jersey as I can be, I am never those things. I am always respectful and thoughtful and conscious of my surroundings, especially when I travel. These losers made off-color jokes and were obnoxious and really quite uncivilized. They were every reason other countries hate Americans. Maybe their 1950's clothes really did represent where their evolution had stopped in terms of understanding the world around them. I hated them.
I couldn't wait to be away from them, and in fact, when we got off the boat to go shopping in Nevsky Prospekt, we made the decision to sit in someone else's seats for the rest of the boat ride so as not to sit by these people any longer. It might have caused a bit of unrest with our fellow travelers to switch like that, but it was worth it. Drunk on vodka or not, there was no way I was going to spend another minute talking to those circus animals without ending up in a Russian prison for assault.
Despite our initial opinion of them, we came to realize that George Michael was right. Sometimes the clothes do not make the man. The morals of the story are: 1) Sometimes people who look cool are really just the most uncool, 2) Americans really do need to check themselves when we go overseas so we aren't perpetuating the stereotypes of Ugly Americans, and 3) Russian vodka is really delicious and I want to go back and spend more time drinking it.
Throughout the trip, I had seen this couple who were hitting the same sights we were. They had that 50's rockabilly aesthetic, which is one that I really like looking at but have no interest in trying to pull off. I know I have my own style which I adhere to pretty closely, but the idea of dressing in that same rockabilly style every day is not attractive to me. However, it does fascinate me. All the cherry-print skirts and red and white bandannas and peep-toe shoes are pretty cute (on other people). And the pin curls in their hair...yesss. Again, not my personal style but definitely a stand out. Because they were dressed like this all the time, they definitely caught my eye. I found myself thinking that I'd like to meet them and maybe hang out for a drink because they must be pretty cool.
 |
| She was not nearly this cute, but this is how she dressed. Cherries for days. |
The shots started flowing and we sang and yelled and chanted and also shopped and did some sightseeing and took a million pictures. We got to see another side of St. Petersberg - a really cool downtown side where young people were hanging out and drinking coffee at cafes, walking hand in hand down the Neva, and honestly, just being people. There is nothing like traveling and seeing foreign places to bring down your prejudices about other cultures and countries. We hit up a great chocolate shop, saw some amazing sculptures, and yelled and waved to anyone on a bridge as our boat sailed under it. We even learned to read some Russian, which I absolutely loved even whilst tipsy on the vodka.
And this rockabilly couple, the ones whose fashion choices led me to believe they were so awesome that we could be lifelong friends, were beyond annoying. They were loud and obnoxious and not in the fun way. They were crass and uncouth, and as Jersey as I can be, I am never those things. I am always respectful and thoughtful and conscious of my surroundings, especially when I travel. These losers made off-color jokes and were obnoxious and really quite uncivilized. They were every reason other countries hate Americans. Maybe their 1950's clothes really did represent where their evolution had stopped in terms of understanding the world around them. I hated them.
I couldn't wait to be away from them, and in fact, when we got off the boat to go shopping in Nevsky Prospekt, we made the decision to sit in someone else's seats for the rest of the boat ride so as not to sit by these people any longer. It might have caused a bit of unrest with our fellow travelers to switch like that, but it was worth it. Drunk on vodka or not, there was no way I was going to spend another minute talking to those circus animals without ending up in a Russian prison for assault.
Despite our initial opinion of them, we came to realize that George Michael was right. Sometimes the clothes do not make the man. The morals of the story are: 1) Sometimes people who look cool are really just the most uncool, 2) Americans really do need to check themselves when we go overseas so we aren't perpetuating the stereotypes of Ugly Americans, and 3) Russian vodka is really delicious and I want to go back and spend more time drinking it.
Friday, January 29, 2016
Pearl Jam Made Me Break Up With My Boyfriend
I have been a Pearl Jam fan for a long time. In fact, the very first time I heard them, I fell in love and became a diehard fan immediately. My passion for the band has never faded.
The first time I saw them live was in the summer of 1992 at Lollapalooza. I was a punky kid who had never really been to a punk show. I was sort of nervous to go to a show like Lollapalooza, which at that time was really alternative and really strange and really intimidating. In fact, one of my regrets in life is not going to Lollapalooza in 1991 when Nirvana was there. Kurt died before I ever got to see them, so my fear of the freaks at Lolla (before I realized I *was* one of the freaks) held me back and fills me with regret to this day. But I digress...
I went to Lolla '92 with my boyfriend at the time, my best friend, and her boyfriend. My one and only goal was to get close to the stage for Pearl Jam, and I had no idea what that meant in reality. I just knew I was getting close to Eddie Vedder. I remember that they were second on the bill (after Lush) so they came on at maybe 2 in the afternoon. As soon as Lush finished, we ran up to stake out our spots...as did every other kid in the place. I felt ok about the spot we landed - not as close as I had hoped, but I was used to seeing hair metal bands from the nosebleed seats in arenas so just being in the vicinity of the stage was good enough for me.
As we stood and waited for the band, I realized I felt at home with all of these weirdo alternative kids with their piercings and tattoos and crazy hair and makeup. I wasn't sure what had made me so nervous, and I suddenly got very comfortable. I was with my people. And then Pearl Jam came out.
They opened with Even Flow and with the very first note, the pit went crazy. Everyone rushed the stage and we ended up way closer than we started thanks to the surge of sweaty bodies plowing towards us. I swear, I felt like the moment just overtook me. I stopped caring about how I looked or if my friends were still near me; I just became part of the experience. Everyone in the pit jumped and danced and moshed and screamed as one.
I loved it. I loved the energy and the passion. I looked around for my boyfriend after a minute or so and caught his eye. He was wide-eyed and panicked. In a terrified voice, he yelled, "I'M GETTING OUT OF HERE!" and expected me to go with him. I didn't. I acknowledged him and then turned back to the band. My best friend left too, but her boyfriend and I stayed and were experiencing this awesomeness at the same time. We locked eyes and gave each other a mental high five. He was feeling the same thing I was. It was just an otherworldly feeling, one that I try to describe to my daughter but I just can't find the right words.
This moment in time changed my life. As I moshed and jumped and danced and got kicked in the head by crowdsurfers, I knew that this was where I was supposed to be, And I looked at who was not there with me - my boyfriend of 5 years. He was suddenly a world away from me. Now that I knew this feeling existed, I knew I couldn't go back to Saturday nights watching television at his house or going to dinner and a movie. I wanted to see every show for every band as often as possible. And I knew this was not a life he would want to lead. Suddenly, just from that one Pearl Jam show, I knew I would be breaking up with him and going it alone for a while.
I felt free.
-----------------------------------------------------------
And now, today, I am trying to get Pearl Jam tickets so I can take my daughter to see them and they sold out in like 1 minute. I did not get fan club tickets either. So now I'm going to have to overpay some dick at Stubhub who doesn't even like the band but just wants to make some money so I can see the band I have loved for nearly 25 years.
I miss the days when I'd go to the local record store on a Thursday night, stand on line to get a wristband, and come back on Saturday morning when tickets went on sale. I'd already have a place in line (the wristband gave you a number that was your place) and get to hang out with other crazy people who loved the band as much as I did (and I did this for so many bands, not just Pearl Jam). Now it's all scalpers just out to make money and true fans don't get to see the band.
Get off my lawn.
The first time I saw them live was in the summer of 1992 at Lollapalooza. I was a punky kid who had never really been to a punk show. I was sort of nervous to go to a show like Lollapalooza, which at that time was really alternative and really strange and really intimidating. In fact, one of my regrets in life is not going to Lollapalooza in 1991 when Nirvana was there. Kurt died before I ever got to see them, so my fear of the freaks at Lolla (before I realized I *was* one of the freaks) held me back and fills me with regret to this day. But I digress...
I went to Lolla '92 with my boyfriend at the time, my best friend, and her boyfriend. My one and only goal was to get close to the stage for Pearl Jam, and I had no idea what that meant in reality. I just knew I was getting close to Eddie Vedder. I remember that they were second on the bill (after Lush) so they came on at maybe 2 in the afternoon. As soon as Lush finished, we ran up to stake out our spots...as did every other kid in the place. I felt ok about the spot we landed - not as close as I had hoped, but I was used to seeing hair metal bands from the nosebleed seats in arenas so just being in the vicinity of the stage was good enough for me.
As we stood and waited for the band, I realized I felt at home with all of these weirdo alternative kids with their piercings and tattoos and crazy hair and makeup. I wasn't sure what had made me so nervous, and I suddenly got very comfortable. I was with my people. And then Pearl Jam came out.
They opened with Even Flow and with the very first note, the pit went crazy. Everyone rushed the stage and we ended up way closer than we started thanks to the surge of sweaty bodies plowing towards us. I swear, I felt like the moment just overtook me. I stopped caring about how I looked or if my friends were still near me; I just became part of the experience. Everyone in the pit jumped and danced and moshed and screamed as one.
I loved it. I loved the energy and the passion. I looked around for my boyfriend after a minute or so and caught his eye. He was wide-eyed and panicked. In a terrified voice, he yelled, "I'M GETTING OUT OF HERE!" and expected me to go with him. I didn't. I acknowledged him and then turned back to the band. My best friend left too, but her boyfriend and I stayed and were experiencing this awesomeness at the same time. We locked eyes and gave each other a mental high five. He was feeling the same thing I was. It was just an otherworldly feeling, one that I try to describe to my daughter but I just can't find the right words.
This moment in time changed my life. As I moshed and jumped and danced and got kicked in the head by crowdsurfers, I knew that this was where I was supposed to be, And I looked at who was not there with me - my boyfriend of 5 years. He was suddenly a world away from me. Now that I knew this feeling existed, I knew I couldn't go back to Saturday nights watching television at his house or going to dinner and a movie. I wanted to see every show for every band as often as possible. And I knew this was not a life he would want to lead. Suddenly, just from that one Pearl Jam show, I knew I would be breaking up with him and going it alone for a while.
I felt free.
-----------------------------------------------------------
And now, today, I am trying to get Pearl Jam tickets so I can take my daughter to see them and they sold out in like 1 minute. I did not get fan club tickets either. So now I'm going to have to overpay some dick at Stubhub who doesn't even like the band but just wants to make some money so I can see the band I have loved for nearly 25 years.
I miss the days when I'd go to the local record store on a Thursday night, stand on line to get a wristband, and come back on Saturday morning when tickets went on sale. I'd already have a place in line (the wristband gave you a number that was your place) and get to hang out with other crazy people who loved the band as much as I did (and I did this for so many bands, not just Pearl Jam). Now it's all scalpers just out to make money and true fans don't get to see the band.
Get off my lawn.
Thursday, January 14, 2016
Finding My Joy After Not Becoming a Billionaire
I was hoping to win the Powerball's $1.5 billion last night and then I'd know exactly where my joy is: it's in my bank account. Alas, that dream did not come true, so now it's back to real life and time for that dream to rest for a bit.
When you think about winning that much money, you start thinking of all the things you would do if you could. You wouldn't have to work ever again, so your days and nights would be free to do whatever filled you with happiness. That idea gets the wheels turning on what you'd actually do with your time if you truly had free will to do what pleased you.
Here is where my mind went. Immediately, I set my travel plans. I'd plan for chunks of time in Africa, the Far East, Australia, the Galapagos Islands, Cuba, and Bora Bora, to start. Then I'd be off to Istanbul (terrorism be damned) and Morocco and Egypt, and then I'd take return trips to Spain and Italy and Croatia and Hawaii and Paris.
Then what? What else do I love? Beer. I'd perhaps open a gastropub, a casual one, in my current hometown. I'd hire people to run it well so we wouldn't fall victim to what so many other restaurants do. We'd brew a couple of our own beers (after hiring a Brewmaster), but mostly have craft beer from other breweries on tap. There would be lots of variety and lots of alternating taps. The food would be casual and hearty - classics with a twist, maybe.
I'd concentrate on working out, something I don't have time to do now as often as I'd like. I'd have a personal trainer and a chef who would cook healthy and delicious meals for picky ol' me. I'd work on making my body the healthiest it can be.
And I'd shop. Oh, would I shop. I think my first stop would be Chanel for a large quilted tote with the big interlocking C's on it. And then I'd order a beautiful Birkin bag. And then I'd shop for shoes and clothes and makeup until I dropped. And then I'd buy a Porsche Panamera.
Of course, I'd give some away. Some would go to family (my parents, of course) and friends. Some would go to charities I feel so strongly about (animal welfare. domestic violence survivors, veterans).
This morning, like everyone else in America, I woke up unable to do any of the things of which I had dreamed. It was back to the every day grind...which, I know, I know. I live a good life. I have a well-paying job and an amazing family and the ability to travel and drink good beer and eat good food and buy a nice bag every now and then. But does it all fulfill me? Does it fill me with happiness as life should? Most of it, yes. I can truly answer that with a yes. But when I think about work...
Work is such a mixed bag for me. The pay is good. I love my co-workers (mostly). I enjoy some of the work that I do, although it doesn't fill me with joy by any stretch. I occasionally feel like I make a difference. But I spend a good deal of time worrying about my job, wondering if it will still be here tomorrow. There is no peace in that, and I don't like living with a cloud over my shoulder.
And then I think...ok. So you didn't win the lottery. You aren't a bazillionaire. What would you do if you were laid off? What if you got a severance package and had the time to find something new? Would it be in HR? Would it be the same corporate grind, just at a new company? Or would it be a perfect chance to take a risk...to find what I loved and just go for it. Dedicate myself to it. Throw myself in, wholeheartedly. And where exactly would I be throwing myself...where does that passion lie?
I feel like I need to take some time to find answers to those questions so that my next life, post-this job, is one that makes me happy and doesn't just simply pay the bills.
When you think about winning that much money, you start thinking of all the things you would do if you could. You wouldn't have to work ever again, so your days and nights would be free to do whatever filled you with happiness. That idea gets the wheels turning on what you'd actually do with your time if you truly had free will to do what pleased you.
Here is where my mind went. Immediately, I set my travel plans. I'd plan for chunks of time in Africa, the Far East, Australia, the Galapagos Islands, Cuba, and Bora Bora, to start. Then I'd be off to Istanbul (terrorism be damned) and Morocco and Egypt, and then I'd take return trips to Spain and Italy and Croatia and Hawaii and Paris.
Then what? What else do I love? Beer. I'd perhaps open a gastropub, a casual one, in my current hometown. I'd hire people to run it well so we wouldn't fall victim to what so many other restaurants do. We'd brew a couple of our own beers (after hiring a Brewmaster), but mostly have craft beer from other breweries on tap. There would be lots of variety and lots of alternating taps. The food would be casual and hearty - classics with a twist, maybe.
I'd concentrate on working out, something I don't have time to do now as often as I'd like. I'd have a personal trainer and a chef who would cook healthy and delicious meals for picky ol' me. I'd work on making my body the healthiest it can be.
And I'd shop. Oh, would I shop. I think my first stop would be Chanel for a large quilted tote with the big interlocking C's on it. And then I'd order a beautiful Birkin bag. And then I'd shop for shoes and clothes and makeup until I dropped. And then I'd buy a Porsche Panamera.
Of course, I'd give some away. Some would go to family (my parents, of course) and friends. Some would go to charities I feel so strongly about (animal welfare. domestic violence survivors, veterans).
This morning, like everyone else in America, I woke up unable to do any of the things of which I had dreamed. It was back to the every day grind...which, I know, I know. I live a good life. I have a well-paying job and an amazing family and the ability to travel and drink good beer and eat good food and buy a nice bag every now and then. But does it all fulfill me? Does it fill me with happiness as life should? Most of it, yes. I can truly answer that with a yes. But when I think about work...
Work is such a mixed bag for me. The pay is good. I love my co-workers (mostly). I enjoy some of the work that I do, although it doesn't fill me with joy by any stretch. I occasionally feel like I make a difference. But I spend a good deal of time worrying about my job, wondering if it will still be here tomorrow. There is no peace in that, and I don't like living with a cloud over my shoulder.
And then I think...ok. So you didn't win the lottery. You aren't a bazillionaire. What would you do if you were laid off? What if you got a severance package and had the time to find something new? Would it be in HR? Would it be the same corporate grind, just at a new company? Or would it be a perfect chance to take a risk...to find what I loved and just go for it. Dedicate myself to it. Throw myself in, wholeheartedly. And where exactly would I be throwing myself...where does that passion lie?
I feel like I need to take some time to find answers to those questions so that my next life, post-this job, is one that makes me happy and doesn't just simply pay the bills.
Monday, January 11, 2016
I'm Planning to Win A Billion Dollars
So. I did not win $800 million in Saturday's Powerball drawing. Bummer. The good news is that no one won, so that sucker is now up over a BILLION DOLLARS. I have some of the money well spent already: firstly quitting my job, of course, and then on to the shopping. But the funny thing I realized as I thought about how I'd spend the money is that sure, I'd buy some new purses and shoes and all that stuff. And a Porsche. But the main thing my mind goes to is that with that much money, I could just travel the world forever and experience everything this earth has to offer.
That's when I realized that although I like "stuff" (as evidenced by my recent Konmari purge, which is still ongoing but has thus far resulted in my donating over 150 t-shirts...and I still have two drawers full that I'm keeping), I value experiences most of all. If you gave me a billion dollars (or even a thousand dollars), my first thought would be, "Where can we go?"
We are planning a trip to Captiva Island in the Spring with TJK's friend and her mom. As I looked at all the resort has to offer, I realized that this was a trip that would be full of experiences and not stuff. We can parasail. We can watch dolphins and manatees. We can watch one of the world's best sunsets from the deck of a yacht while sipping cocktails. The girls can take photography lessons, or mermaid-swimming lessons, or trudge through the muddy sand at the tide line for creatures who make their home there. With memories like those, do I really need a t-shirt to commemorate it? Does TJK need another stuffed animal? What more would we need, other than the photographic documentation of it all?
As I thought about all that money and what I'd do with it, my immediate answer was: this trip. At $132,000 per person, it's a trip I could only dream of being able to experience. And there are four amazing trips there to consider...all clocking in at over $100k per person. And what I love most about it is the experiences it would offer: flying on a private jet and staying in Four Seasons resorts would be experiences all their own, and hitting that many countries with that many sights to see...wow. And yes, I'd shop my wallet dry in the markets of Istanbul and Marrakesh, but the things we'd see and experience would outweigh nearly anything we could buy.
So while I can't see myself ever being able to afford that kind of travel (unless the gods of the lottery see fit to bestow me with a gift of $1b...which would be more than lovely), I can look at my own travel experiences, no matter how small or big, with the same eye to enjoy the moments. Get into the lifestyle of the place I'm visiting. Eat good food. Dance. Swim, Take chances and capture the memories.
That's when I realized that although I like "stuff" (as evidenced by my recent Konmari purge, which is still ongoing but has thus far resulted in my donating over 150 t-shirts...and I still have two drawers full that I'm keeping), I value experiences most of all. If you gave me a billion dollars (or even a thousand dollars), my first thought would be, "Where can we go?"
We are planning a trip to Captiva Island in the Spring with TJK's friend and her mom. As I looked at all the resort has to offer, I realized that this was a trip that would be full of experiences and not stuff. We can parasail. We can watch dolphins and manatees. We can watch one of the world's best sunsets from the deck of a yacht while sipping cocktails. The girls can take photography lessons, or mermaid-swimming lessons, or trudge through the muddy sand at the tide line for creatures who make their home there. With memories like those, do I really need a t-shirt to commemorate it? Does TJK need another stuffed animal? What more would we need, other than the photographic documentation of it all?
As I thought about all that money and what I'd do with it, my immediate answer was: this trip. At $132,000 per person, it's a trip I could only dream of being able to experience. And there are four amazing trips there to consider...all clocking in at over $100k per person. And what I love most about it is the experiences it would offer: flying on a private jet and staying in Four Seasons resorts would be experiences all their own, and hitting that many countries with that many sights to see...wow. And yes, I'd shop my wallet dry in the markets of Istanbul and Marrakesh, but the things we'd see and experience would outweigh nearly anything we could buy.
So while I can't see myself ever being able to afford that kind of travel (unless the gods of the lottery see fit to bestow me with a gift of $1b...which would be more than lovely), I can look at my own travel experiences, no matter how small or big, with the same eye to enjoy the moments. Get into the lifestyle of the place I'm visiting. Eat good food. Dance. Swim, Take chances and capture the memories.
Thursday, January 07, 2016
Family
There's something special about my family. I'm sure everyone's family is special in it's own way, but over the past few months/years, I have been appreciating my family more and more and I feel like I need to articulate it. I'm going to use yesterday as a perfect example.
During the day, I skyped with my cousin (let's call him Dblg). He's going through some stuff, and he comes to me for advice and a laugh. I adore the fact that we are more like brother and sister than cousins. We have a fantastic bond and we talk almost every day, and he comes up to visit me more often than he visits his mom. I also texted with my cousin Princsvspa. In my Monumental Closet Purge of 2016, I have come across some shoes I think she'd like so we talked for a while about shoes and makeup and fashion. Like girlfriends do. There was also a group text between three cousins, my husband, and me, which was full of laughs and memes and sarcasm (that's what we do best).
Yesterday evening, I got a text (a longgggg text) from an aunt of mine. She was pretty upset about something and texted me to vent about it. We texted back and forth for a good while, as I would do with my friends. This is the same aunt who I spent a good chunk of time gossiping with on Christmas Day. And finally, when I got home from work there was a package waiting, addressed to TJK from another aunt. TJK opened it, and inside was an autographed book that my aunt thought she would like. TJK called her immediately and it was really just a lovely moment and they had such a fun conversation on the phone. It all fills me with happiness.
For most people I know, their immediate family is their priority and beyond that, it's only holidays for the rest of the fam. Or, their friends outrank all family, all the time. For me, I feel so lucky to have these great people on my side. I mean, my one uncle calls me out of the blue, fairly often, just to say "Hey you, what's going on, I miss you and I love you!" How great does that feel? And I have another uncle who is a little cold and hard to know, but even he has warmed up recently. In a conversation with this uncle and some cousins, Dblg kept using the word "pussy" to refer to someone who was weak. I called him out on it an explained why (feminist shit, right there). This uncle looked me right in the face and said, "Wow, I never considered it that way. I never thought of the meaning of it. You've made me think." And for him to stop and consider what I was saying....this was a huge moment for him, and it meant something to me. He acknowledged me as a person, as an equal, and that made us closer.
Last July when we were in London, two aunts and an uncle were traveling through Scotland and England as well. We made a point to meet up at a pub near Trafalgar Square and spent several hours having drinks and talking and laughing. Then we helped them learn the Tube (took them to the kiosk to buy passes and read the map with them and walked them to their train), and that was an adventure. How awesome to have family members who I'd actually seek out in another country just so we could hang out and talk, the same as we do in the US.
I guess my point is that I feel really lucky to have these people in my life. I don't see them as a burden or an annoyance or as people I "have" to see over the holidays. I see them as friends - nearly every cousin and nearly every aunt and uncle. I feel truly lucky.
During the day, I skyped with my cousin (let's call him Dblg). He's going through some stuff, and he comes to me for advice and a laugh. I adore the fact that we are more like brother and sister than cousins. We have a fantastic bond and we talk almost every day, and he comes up to visit me more often than he visits his mom. I also texted with my cousin Princsvspa. In my Monumental Closet Purge of 2016, I have come across some shoes I think she'd like so we talked for a while about shoes and makeup and fashion. Like girlfriends do. There was also a group text between three cousins, my husband, and me, which was full of laughs and memes and sarcasm (that's what we do best).
Yesterday evening, I got a text (a longgggg text) from an aunt of mine. She was pretty upset about something and texted me to vent about it. We texted back and forth for a good while, as I would do with my friends. This is the same aunt who I spent a good chunk of time gossiping with on Christmas Day. And finally, when I got home from work there was a package waiting, addressed to TJK from another aunt. TJK opened it, and inside was an autographed book that my aunt thought she would like. TJK called her immediately and it was really just a lovely moment and they had such a fun conversation on the phone. It all fills me with happiness.
For most people I know, their immediate family is their priority and beyond that, it's only holidays for the rest of the fam. Or, their friends outrank all family, all the time. For me, I feel so lucky to have these great people on my side. I mean, my one uncle calls me out of the blue, fairly often, just to say "Hey you, what's going on, I miss you and I love you!" How great does that feel? And I have another uncle who is a little cold and hard to know, but even he has warmed up recently. In a conversation with this uncle and some cousins, Dblg kept using the word "pussy" to refer to someone who was weak. I called him out on it an explained why (feminist shit, right there). This uncle looked me right in the face and said, "Wow, I never considered it that way. I never thought of the meaning of it. You've made me think." And for him to stop and consider what I was saying....this was a huge moment for him, and it meant something to me. He acknowledged me as a person, as an equal, and that made us closer.
Last July when we were in London, two aunts and an uncle were traveling through Scotland and England as well. We made a point to meet up at a pub near Trafalgar Square and spent several hours having drinks and talking and laughing. Then we helped them learn the Tube (took them to the kiosk to buy passes and read the map with them and walked them to their train), and that was an adventure. How awesome to have family members who I'd actually seek out in another country just so we could hang out and talk, the same as we do in the US.
I guess my point is that I feel really lucky to have these people in my life. I don't see them as a burden or an annoyance or as people I "have" to see over the holidays. I see them as friends - nearly every cousin and nearly every aunt and uncle. I feel truly lucky.
Wednesday, January 06, 2016
More Konmari
Since my last post, I have become just a little obsessed with the idea of tidying. For the record, I hate that word: tidying. It just sounds so weird and quaint, when really, it means tearing my house apart nearly to the beams, till it is in tornado form, and then trying to wrangle it all back into some form of organized home. There has to be a better word than tidying...but that's what Marie Kondo uses so that's what I'm using.
I have made it through about 75% of my clothes. It has taken DAYS, but it is feeling quite fulfilling. Not only is my closet breathing again, but I have also donated 25+ bags to charity. The idea I've tried to keep in mind as I go through my things is: What do I want to keep? I'm trying to not focus on the purged items as much as the kept items. I have taken the Konmari approach to heart, asking myself about each item, "Does it bring me joy?" and if it does, it stays. If not, it goes into a bag so it can bring joy to someone else.
As I have paired things down (by such a huge margin, you would not even believe), I've been trying to get them back into drawers and closets, at least temporarily. Konmari says that you go through every piece before you start storing, but that ain't working for me. I have SO much stuff - I can't just leave it on the floor for weeks till I have time to get through it all. So I started the folding process.
Ah yes, even folding is a specific process in Konmari. You don't do the old retail store folding method, with each shirt folded on top of the rest. When you do that, you can't see the shirts below and then they don't get worn and that's a waste. So you fold your shirts into little rectangular cubes and place them in your drawers so you can see each one.
The weirdest thing happened as I started watching YouTube videos of how to fold according to this method and then trying it myself. I was enjoying folding my clothes. I actually stayed up about an hour later than I planned to, just so I could fold some more. Part of the joy was in seeing the finished product (a wonderfully organized drawer of my tshirts, all showing their spines so I could easily choose), and part was just the folding itself. Please know that this has never happened to me. I have a huge closet and a large dresser with big, deep drawer, and yet I still keep my daily wear clothes on the chair in my bedroom because I hate folding clothes. But here I was, folding and enjoying.
I hope to finish off my clothes by the end of the week and tackle shoes this weekend. I've got a superbusy weekend coming up and my shoes are going to take some time (and tears, I am sure), so if I feel like I can't finish the shoes during the weekend I will do my bags. I feel like bags will be easier for me to make decisions on (Louis Vuitton? Sashay, you stay. Any fake bag I bought back in the day? Sashay away.).
I have made it through about 75% of my clothes. It has taken DAYS, but it is feeling quite fulfilling. Not only is my closet breathing again, but I have also donated 25+ bags to charity. The idea I've tried to keep in mind as I go through my things is: What do I want to keep? I'm trying to not focus on the purged items as much as the kept items. I have taken the Konmari approach to heart, asking myself about each item, "Does it bring me joy?" and if it does, it stays. If not, it goes into a bag so it can bring joy to someone else.
As I have paired things down (by such a huge margin, you would not even believe), I've been trying to get them back into drawers and closets, at least temporarily. Konmari says that you go through every piece before you start storing, but that ain't working for me. I have SO much stuff - I can't just leave it on the floor for weeks till I have time to get through it all. So I started the folding process.
Ah yes, even folding is a specific process in Konmari. You don't do the old retail store folding method, with each shirt folded on top of the rest. When you do that, you can't see the shirts below and then they don't get worn and that's a waste. So you fold your shirts into little rectangular cubes and place them in your drawers so you can see each one.
 |
| Not my drawer, but this is representative of what my drawers are looking these days. |
I hope to finish off my clothes by the end of the week and tackle shoes this weekend. I've got a superbusy weekend coming up and my shoes are going to take some time (and tears, I am sure), so if I feel like I can't finish the shoes during the weekend I will do my bags. I feel like bags will be easier for me to make decisions on (Louis Vuitton? Sashay, you stay. Any fake bag I bought back in the day? Sashay away.).
Monday, January 04, 2016
Sparking Joy with Konmari Tidying
I have never been a neat person. I generally like "stuff" and don't mind it surrounding me. I enjoy the feeling of being enveloped by all the items I love - be they clothes or shoes or bags or photos or trinkets from my travels. But for some reason over the last month or so, I started feeling swallowed by what I have. When you have 300+ pairs of shoes, how exactly do you find the pair you are looking for?
I've tried organizing in the past, but it never seemed to work for me. I would box up all the summer shoes yet still have 150ish winter pairs, and where were they all going to go? I don't have space for that many shoes to be organized and visible in my closet. And the boxed summer shoes would end up being overlooked the next summer, when I'd buy new because I needed a pair of red wedge sandals and didn't have any...even though I really did. I just couldn't find them in the big overflowing boxes. I'm not a hoarder, but I certainly do love stuff.
I was reading In Style magazine and came across a page on cleaning out closets using the Konmari method. It referenced a little book called The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up and something about it struck me. The basic premise was to take out all of your belongings in each category (shoes, books, etc) and hold each one. Does it bring you joy? Yes? Then it stays. No? Then it goes. This made a lot of sense to me, when thinking of my wardrobe.
I mean, right now it's winter. That means that 90% of the time I am wearing boots. And I have about 30 pairs of boots. How many of those do I actually *wear* though? I consistently wear 2 pairs of black boots, one pair of camel boots, and one pair of brown boots. That's 4 pairs. Those boots make me happy - they are tall, good quality, fit well, comfortable, fashionable. The other 26 or so pairs? Well, I liked them when I bought them. These had fur around the top, which I thought was cute. Those had those punky buckles and unique army-green color I really liked. But the truth is that I never wore them. So why are they cluttering my closet and therefore my mind?
I bought the book and started to read. It's a little too new-agey for me, in reality. I don't think my socks have feelings and I don't think I have to thank my clothes for a job well done. So there has definitely been some eye-rolling on my part. But I am pushing past the weirdness and getting to the root of the book and how it can help me. So over the weekend, I emptied my closet.
You can't imagine the volume of clothes and shoes and bags and accessories I have...but I took out all the clothes (starting with the clothes is Marie Kondo's advice...get to your books and paperwork and photos later) and went through them piece by piece. Some of it was really easy - there are so many things I haven't worn in forever and those were easy to put in the Donate pile. Others were harder. I have some expensive designer clothes. I have been a multitude of sizes. It's hard to let go of that Emmanuel Ungaro jacket I've had for centuries but only worn a handful of times. It's hard to see that Dolce & Gabbana blouse go. But even as I made the decision to put them in the Donate pile, I felt a weight lifted off of me. Now I could see that other funky Ungaro blazer that was buried under the Things I Own But Never Wear. It got easier and easier as the day went on.
Some things that I never wear got to stay. My Aces & 8's NYC t-shirt stays: it's from an awesome time in my life and just looking at it truly does bring me joy. Plus, it says SHUT UP AND DRINK on the back in huge letters, and I still need that in my life. My Finisher t-shirt from my first 5k in Central Park stays as it represents an accomplishment for me as a complete non-runner - I trained and I worked hard and I did it, hills and all. So the shirt stays. But the sentimental keeps were few and far between.
I'm nowhere near done with this process. I have done most of my clothes and all of my makeup (there was a LOT of it...I discarded bags and bags of the stuff!) and I still have shoes and bags and coats to go through. And then comes the jewelry - I am overloaded with costume jewelry. It's my favorite, but I have so much that I can't make decisions about what to wear daily because I can't see it all or dig through it. And then will come the rest of the house - the kitchen and the bathrooms and the office, and TJK's room, which will be a challenge. So I have a long way to go to make the Konmari Method part of my every day life. But I have to admit that I'm pretty excited about how it's going so far and in the changes I feel in myself already. I really want to make this part of my life - I can see it saving me money as well, if I only buy the items that "bring me joy" and avoid the ones that don't.
I've tried organizing in the past, but it never seemed to work for me. I would box up all the summer shoes yet still have 150ish winter pairs, and where were they all going to go? I don't have space for that many shoes to be organized and visible in my closet. And the boxed summer shoes would end up being overlooked the next summer, when I'd buy new because I needed a pair of red wedge sandals and didn't have any...even though I really did. I just couldn't find them in the big overflowing boxes. I'm not a hoarder, but I certainly do love stuff.
I was reading In Style magazine and came across a page on cleaning out closets using the Konmari method. It referenced a little book called The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up and something about it struck me. The basic premise was to take out all of your belongings in each category (shoes, books, etc) and hold each one. Does it bring you joy? Yes? Then it stays. No? Then it goes. This made a lot of sense to me, when thinking of my wardrobe.
I mean, right now it's winter. That means that 90% of the time I am wearing boots. And I have about 30 pairs of boots. How many of those do I actually *wear* though? I consistently wear 2 pairs of black boots, one pair of camel boots, and one pair of brown boots. That's 4 pairs. Those boots make me happy - they are tall, good quality, fit well, comfortable, fashionable. The other 26 or so pairs? Well, I liked them when I bought them. These had fur around the top, which I thought was cute. Those had those punky buckles and unique army-green color I really liked. But the truth is that I never wore them. So why are they cluttering my closet and therefore my mind?
I bought the book and started to read. It's a little too new-agey for me, in reality. I don't think my socks have feelings and I don't think I have to thank my clothes for a job well done. So there has definitely been some eye-rolling on my part. But I am pushing past the weirdness and getting to the root of the book and how it can help me. So over the weekend, I emptied my closet.
You can't imagine the volume of clothes and shoes and bags and accessories I have...but I took out all the clothes (starting with the clothes is Marie Kondo's advice...get to your books and paperwork and photos later) and went through them piece by piece. Some of it was really easy - there are so many things I haven't worn in forever and those were easy to put in the Donate pile. Others were harder. I have some expensive designer clothes. I have been a multitude of sizes. It's hard to let go of that Emmanuel Ungaro jacket I've had for centuries but only worn a handful of times. It's hard to see that Dolce & Gabbana blouse go. But even as I made the decision to put them in the Donate pile, I felt a weight lifted off of me. Now I could see that other funky Ungaro blazer that was buried under the Things I Own But Never Wear. It got easier and easier as the day went on.
Some things that I never wear got to stay. My Aces & 8's NYC t-shirt stays: it's from an awesome time in my life and just looking at it truly does bring me joy. Plus, it says SHUT UP AND DRINK on the back in huge letters, and I still need that in my life. My Finisher t-shirt from my first 5k in Central Park stays as it represents an accomplishment for me as a complete non-runner - I trained and I worked hard and I did it, hills and all. So the shirt stays. But the sentimental keeps were few and far between.
I'm nowhere near done with this process. I have done most of my clothes and all of my makeup (there was a LOT of it...I discarded bags and bags of the stuff!) and I still have shoes and bags and coats to go through. And then comes the jewelry - I am overloaded with costume jewelry. It's my favorite, but I have so much that I can't make decisions about what to wear daily because I can't see it all or dig through it. And then will come the rest of the house - the kitchen and the bathrooms and the office, and TJK's room, which will be a challenge. So I have a long way to go to make the Konmari Method part of my every day life. But I have to admit that I'm pretty excited about how it's going so far and in the changes I feel in myself already. I really want to make this part of my life - I can see it saving me money as well, if I only buy the items that "bring me joy" and avoid the ones that don't.
Monday, December 28, 2015
Holly Jolly Christmas
Another Christmas has passed us by, and it was lovely. On Christmas Eve, we went to dinner with friends and then got into our jammies and played poker till close to midnight. Then our friends went home and Hubby and I opened our gifts to each other (while TJK looked on). Can you say Rebecca Minckoff and jackelopes and jewelry? I sure can :)
On Christmas morning, TJK opened her presents and was in heaven with all the Star Wars and American Girl Doll stuff. There was no hoverboard to be found - I think we will wait till they stop catching on fire and exploding before dipping into that pool. We then went to my parents' house with the aunts and uncles and cousins, and it was really nice. I always feel so lucky when I'm with my family. Not only am I super-close with my cousins of all ages (from the 4 year old to the 25 year old to the ones closer to my age), but I'm also lucky enough to consider my aunts and uncles as my friends, too. I spent about half an hour hanging out with one of my aunts on the porch, just gossiping and talking and having a few drinks. Couldn't love it more.
The day after Christmas, we finally made our way into NYC for the day. We usually go in one Sunday before Christmas to do the traditional holiday stuff, but this year was just too crazy. So we went in afterwards, and saw the tree and the store windows (always love Bergdorf's the best) and had dinner at Lasagna, one of our favorite restaurants. Hubby even bought me a belated gift of jewelry on 5th Ave. The best thing we did, though, was to take a quick detour upon arriving in the city to go down by the World Trade Center. I have yet to go up in the new building - it's still too soon for me, and I know I will just bawl and bawl. But across the street is a mall which had a light installation which was so amazing.
You put both hands on the lighted block and it changes color repeatedly. You make a wish and then let go of the block. The color from the block goes up to the lighted blocks on the ceiling and then your color spreads from where you are standing to the back of the space, as if your wish was spreading from your heart out to the world. TJK and I decided we loved this more than the Rock Center tree and the windows. It was just so beautiful and peaceful and wonderful to watch.
Then, on Sunday, we went down to Manasquan to visit with family again. This time, it was with cousins from Scotland who are here for Christmas and New Year's in NYC. There were probably 20 of us all together in my cousin's beautiful home, and we had such a nice time. The Scotland cousins are so friendly and talkative and interesting. It was cool to hear the stories of my grandparents and great grandparents from back in the day. I learned that my grandmother actually lived in Scotland for about 4 years as a child!
Now, I'm back at work and exhausted as hell. When we have these weekends that are non-stop and sleep-free, I dread them. Then when I'm in it, I love it...because I love to be busy and I love having experiences, whatever they may be. And then the next day, I am tired and have a headache and could fall asleep at my desk, but I don't regret a single moment of it (except maybe the insane stand-still crowd trying to get to the tree in front of Saks. Disastrous.).
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| Besties on Christmas Eve |
On Christmas morning, TJK opened her presents and was in heaven with all the Star Wars and American Girl Doll stuff. There was no hoverboard to be found - I think we will wait till they stop catching on fire and exploding before dipping into that pool. We then went to my parents' house with the aunts and uncles and cousins, and it was really nice. I always feel so lucky when I'm with my family. Not only am I super-close with my cousins of all ages (from the 4 year old to the 25 year old to the ones closer to my age), but I'm also lucky enough to consider my aunts and uncles as my friends, too. I spent about half an hour hanging out with one of my aunts on the porch, just gossiping and talking and having a few drinks. Couldn't love it more.
The day after Christmas, we finally made our way into NYC for the day. We usually go in one Sunday before Christmas to do the traditional holiday stuff, but this year was just too crazy. So we went in afterwards, and saw the tree and the store windows (always love Bergdorf's the best) and had dinner at Lasagna, one of our favorite restaurants. Hubby even bought me a belated gift of jewelry on 5th Ave. The best thing we did, though, was to take a quick detour upon arriving in the city to go down by the World Trade Center. I have yet to go up in the new building - it's still too soon for me, and I know I will just bawl and bawl. But across the street is a mall which had a light installation which was so amazing.
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| Beautiful light installation at Brookfield Place, Battery Park, NYC |
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| My daughter and two goddaughters. |
Now, I'm back at work and exhausted as hell. When we have these weekends that are non-stop and sleep-free, I dread them. Then when I'm in it, I love it...because I love to be busy and I love having experiences, whatever they may be. And then the next day, I am tired and have a headache and could fall asleep at my desk, but I don't regret a single moment of it (except maybe the insane stand-still crowd trying to get to the tree in front of Saks. Disastrous.).
Tuesday, December 22, 2015
Vague and Poorly Written and Bitter
There are times when I wish this blog was something that I knew that no one I know would ever see. I know no one looks anymore, but too many people I know in real life know me as True Jersey Girl and know this blog existed a million years ago. I can't take a chance that they will come upon it and get their feelings hurt, because that is not my intention here. My intention here is to simply talk about the things on my mind, and right now there are things I wish I could talk about and I can't.
I will just say that my sacrifices never seem to get as much attention as my "selfishness" does. What I have done for people in the past with barely a thanks is disregarded as soon as people feel slighted. People who are overall quite selfish people who rarely think of anyone but themselves seem quick to call me out on one act of thinking of myself and my family before I think of them and theirs.
Having to suck it up and bite my tongue and apologize without going into a defense of my decisions and a defense of all the things I have done - whether it be monetarily, or by physically being there when most weren't, or by standing up when no one else would, or rearranging my life to better suit other's schedules - is really hard for me.
That's all I am going to say - the words are vague and poorly written and bitter, but they are the best I can do here so I will leave it at that.
Monday, December 21, 2015
The Only Thing We Have to Fear is Everything
I don't know exactly where this post is going, so Future Me, when you read this, I'm sorry ahead of time for meandering and not really having a point.
Well, actually, I think I do have a point that I can find pretty quickly. The point is that being afraid is kind of just what we do now. It is who we are. It is ingrained in us. We are afraid of terrorism every time we go through the Lincoln Tunnel. We are afraid of being shot up at the movies. We are afraid of random acts of violence at every turn, and no where feels safe anymore.
We went to see the new Star Wars movie yesterday (awesome, and I say that as a decidedly non-geeky person). The truth is though, I couldn't stop worrying. Every time I saw someone get up from their seat, I worried that they were going to get a gun or bomb or who knows what. The guy sitting next to me was alone at the theater, and right as the lights dimmed, he was up and off (I guess to use the men's room?) and I panicked a little. When he came back and vaulted over the seats to get to our row, I couldn't exhale until he was sitting down and nerding out. It didn't used to be like this. There used to be places that could be an escape from worrying and fear.
This morning, I got up to news that a woman had taken her car and repeatedly driven onto the sidewalk outside the Paris casino on the Vegas Strip. She was aiming for people, both hands on the steering wheel, trying to hit as many people as possible. And, to add just another touch of crazy, she had her 3 year old buckled into the backseat. Vegas could not be more of an escape; it could not feel more unreal and over the top escapist. And yet. there was no safety there.
Of course, there was the terrorist action in Paris about a month ago, with a stadium and concert hall as the targets. I've been to Paris twice and am planning to return next year. It is a dream destination, somewhere to get lost in the beauty and elegance of European perfection. And then there was San Bernadino a couple of weeks ago, with another horrific terror attack in a workplace against people who had just thrown the attacker a baby shower a few months earlier. No one feels like work is an escape from reality - in fact, it is reality itself. It is a place where you worry about losing your job and not being able to pay your bills. but it shouldn't be a place where you worry about losing your life. And of course there have been other incidents over the past few years: the church shootings, the school shootings, the mall shootings...the list goes on.
Where do we find logic in any of this? Where do we rest our minds, if we aren't safe anywhere? Where do we escape to, if not the movies or vacation?
As we were trying to decide about vacations for 2016, I thought of Portugal as an ideal choice because I don't think it would be a big terrorism risk. Where do I really want to go this year? Istanbul and Cappadocia. But Turkey is too risky. Morroco has always drawn me in...but no. Too dangerous. African safari? Top of the list, really. But that's being pushed off as well, because perhaps it's not the best time to head to Africa when so much of it is in turmoil. So even as we are planning to escape from it all, it's all still in the front of our minds. When we are saying, "hey, Salt Lake City and Vancouver seem like top destinations right now!" you know something is off.
Is this the reality now? Is this how we live and how we fear? Is that fear something we never escape?
I remember after 9/11, I was thinking of the middle east. I couldn't get out from under the fear of another terrorist attack after watching the smoke billow from downtown NYC from my office window. I thought of the people who live in the middle east, who live every day wondering if their cafe will be bombed, or their bus, or their nightclub. And I thought about my life, pre-9/11, and how I never thought for a second about going to concerts or sporting events or to Shop Rite for cold cuts...and how people in the world lived every day as if it were 9/12.
Then things calmed down some, and we got into the every day politicking of terrorism. And now the fear is back, not necessarily stemming from another 9/11 but from what that every day Joe you see on the bus every day could do to your store or venue or church.
All I know is that I am sick of living in fear and sick of the knowledge that things will most likely never go back to normal.
Well, actually, I think I do have a point that I can find pretty quickly. The point is that being afraid is kind of just what we do now. It is who we are. It is ingrained in us. We are afraid of terrorism every time we go through the Lincoln Tunnel. We are afraid of being shot up at the movies. We are afraid of random acts of violence at every turn, and no where feels safe anymore.
We went to see the new Star Wars movie yesterday (awesome, and I say that as a decidedly non-geeky person). The truth is though, I couldn't stop worrying. Every time I saw someone get up from their seat, I worried that they were going to get a gun or bomb or who knows what. The guy sitting next to me was alone at the theater, and right as the lights dimmed, he was up and off (I guess to use the men's room?) and I panicked a little. When he came back and vaulted over the seats to get to our row, I couldn't exhale until he was sitting down and nerding out. It didn't used to be like this. There used to be places that could be an escape from worrying and fear.
This morning, I got up to news that a woman had taken her car and repeatedly driven onto the sidewalk outside the Paris casino on the Vegas Strip. She was aiming for people, both hands on the steering wheel, trying to hit as many people as possible. And, to add just another touch of crazy, she had her 3 year old buckled into the backseat. Vegas could not be more of an escape; it could not feel more unreal and over the top escapist. And yet. there was no safety there.
Of course, there was the terrorist action in Paris about a month ago, with a stadium and concert hall as the targets. I've been to Paris twice and am planning to return next year. It is a dream destination, somewhere to get lost in the beauty and elegance of European perfection. And then there was San Bernadino a couple of weeks ago, with another horrific terror attack in a workplace against people who had just thrown the attacker a baby shower a few months earlier. No one feels like work is an escape from reality - in fact, it is reality itself. It is a place where you worry about losing your job and not being able to pay your bills. but it shouldn't be a place where you worry about losing your life. And of course there have been other incidents over the past few years: the church shootings, the school shootings, the mall shootings...the list goes on.
Where do we find logic in any of this? Where do we rest our minds, if we aren't safe anywhere? Where do we escape to, if not the movies or vacation?
As we were trying to decide about vacations for 2016, I thought of Portugal as an ideal choice because I don't think it would be a big terrorism risk. Where do I really want to go this year? Istanbul and Cappadocia. But Turkey is too risky. Morroco has always drawn me in...but no. Too dangerous. African safari? Top of the list, really. But that's being pushed off as well, because perhaps it's not the best time to head to Africa when so much of it is in turmoil. So even as we are planning to escape from it all, it's all still in the front of our minds. When we are saying, "hey, Salt Lake City and Vancouver seem like top destinations right now!" you know something is off.
Is this the reality now? Is this how we live and how we fear? Is that fear something we never escape?
I remember after 9/11, I was thinking of the middle east. I couldn't get out from under the fear of another terrorist attack after watching the smoke billow from downtown NYC from my office window. I thought of the people who live in the middle east, who live every day wondering if their cafe will be bombed, or their bus, or their nightclub. And I thought about my life, pre-9/11, and how I never thought for a second about going to concerts or sporting events or to Shop Rite for cold cuts...and how people in the world lived every day as if it were 9/12.
Then things calmed down some, and we got into the every day politicking of terrorism. And now the fear is back, not necessarily stemming from another 9/11 but from what that every day Joe you see on the bus every day could do to your store or venue or church.
All I know is that I am sick of living in fear and sick of the knowledge that things will most likely never go back to normal.
Friday, December 18, 2015
Woman-on-Woman Crime
One thing that drives me crazier than all the other things (and lots of things drive me crazy) is when women subtly tear down other women. I go upon the assumption that if you are one of these women who does this to other women, your own self esteem must be suffering and this is how you feel better about yourself - by putting other women down so you will feel better about yourself.
I mean listen, we have enough to fight about. I'd like to make an equal amount to the men doing the same job I do. I'd like it to not be a big deal for a woman to be running a company or a country. I'd like people to stop chipping away at my right to my own body.
But then we have this subtle misogyny that gets us in our own way. I hear all these comments about how women who look a certain way shouldn't do certain things. We are judging ourselves and other women based on our looks, just as we hate when men do. She's too skinny to wear jeans like that; she looks like a string bean. She's too fat to wear those shorts; no one wants to see that. She's too busty for that shirt; she looks like a slut. She's too flat to wear that top; she looks like she's a teenage boy. She's too *insert your judgey-ness here* to exist, basically.
Let's talk about some examples of this. You have a woman like Pamela Anderson. You know the type - she looks like what we think men want. Big implants, blonde hair, full lips, overly-done makeup. So what do we say about her? She's fake. Plastic. Wears too much makeup. Would be prettier if she would tone it all down. So basically, she isn't good enough for us despite how hard she's trying to be. She is beautiful but we have to tear her down.
Then you have a woman like...wow, I have to be honest. I can't think of a single public woman who doesn't care about her image. So let's use another example: you are an overweight woman, and it's July. It's approaching 100 degrees. So you put on some shorts and go out of your house. You have now committed the cardinal sin: being fat in public. You have done something that offends everyone so deeply that they have to take pictures of you and post them online to shame you. You aren't good enough to show your skin in public, fatty. Just being outside and showing us your skin is offensive to our eyes.
Or you have a super thin woman. You are skinny as a rail, and despite trying to put on some weight, your body just won't allow it. But you have plans tonight and you dress up, do your hair, spend a little extra time on your makeup so you feel pretty. You look in the mirror and feel good about yourself, so you take a selfie and post it on Instagram. The comments start to roll in, and while you thought you looked your best, it wasn't good enough. Eat a burger, lady! And stop making us look at your skinny ass! You're hurting our eyes with your lack of curves! (But don't get too many curves - then you'll be the woman above who we don't want to see either. And really, don't get just the right amount of curves because we will hate on you then, too, just like Pamela Anderson).
And then there's the woman who loves to work out. She has the flattest stomach, those sinewy muscular arms, strong and taut legs from running marathons, and strength to spare. She loves what she sees in the mirror; it's the personification of all she works for. She sees strength and muscle and ability. When she shows the world a picture of herself, maybe she gets accolades from the other women (and men) like her, the ones who work hard on their bodies and see the results. From others, though, she gets a lot of "ewwww" and "manly" and "unfeminine." She isn't good enough for our eyes, either. Soften up, honey, you are too hard around the edges for us.
The thing that runs through all of this is that every one of these women is a person. A real person with feelings. And hey, men judge us by how we look and we know that and we hate it but we know it so we deal with it. But when it comes from another woman - when that woman, too, is too short or too tall or too thick or too think or too dark or too pale or too whatever - it stings even more. Because as women, we know what it feels like to be judged and yet we do it to women just like us.
We have all been judged by our appearances. I know I have. I know what it's like to feel good about myself and then have another woman stare in judgement, looking me up and down like "who does she think she is to wear that?" which to me always translates to "who does she think she is to be so confident?" And I think that's what it comes down to, right?
How dare those women be who they are and feel comfortable in their skin, when I don't? I'm not that fat and I don't feel comfortable in a skirt that short, so how dare she? I'm not that skinny and look at her, wearing that dress, acting like she looks good when I'd never be confident enough to wear it?
I guess I just don't understand why we can't support other women instead of tearing each other down. there is no "perfect" - even when you are the "perfect woman" you still get shit for your appearance one way or another.
I am fairly confident in myself, and I still find myself saying these kinds of things sometimes about other women. Nowadays, they don't make it past my lips; I never say them out loud but they are still in my head. I know that it's more about me than it is about them. I know that to change anything, I have to get those thoughts out of my head and call people on it when they speak like that about another woman. I wish we all, as women, could make that our goal. It would make us all so much stronger.
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
Almost 4 Months And I Still Miss Him
As time goes on, obviously it gets easier when someone you love is gone. You adjust. You learn to push back the tears. You are able to talk about them without falling to pieces.
It's been almost four months since Gypsy died, and while I'm not a catatonic mess anymore, I'm still on the verge of crying at any given time. When we decorated for Christmas, we went to put up the stockings and there his was. I took it out and looked at it for a bit, and my husband said, "What should we do with it? Can it go?" Meaning, this insane man wanted to throw out my baby dog's stocking. I'd love to share whatever crack he is on to make him think I'd agree to something so crazy. It went back in the box - but not up on the mantle. And my tears were at the surface.
Every day when I come home from work, I open the door as if he's going to be there. I unlock it and then push in carefully, ready to block the mutt from running out of the house. And of course, he isn't there and then I get sad. That doesn't usually bring tears, because it's an every day thing. It's just a sadness that comes over me.
When I cook, I look for him. I made ziti the other night and had some extra grated mozzarella on the plate. I went to put it down on the floor for him to eat, because 100% of the time, when I'm cooking, he's looking for a handout. Obviously, he was not there so I threw the cheese out and got depressed. Pizza crust is another bummer. I eat the pizza and look to feed him the crust..and he's not there.
And sometimes, I long to sit on the couch under a blanket and watch tv, just chilling and relaxing, and have my puppy sit with me and cover him with the blanket too and just have him near me with his head on my lap. And of course that brings the tears, because that's what I miss the most. Just having a bestie who is happy just to be around me, as I was happy just to be around him,
I try to look at the pluses of not having a dog - primarily the freedom to go out until whatever time we want or to go away on vacation without needing a dog sitter, and the not-getting-up-twice-a-night-to-let-him-out thing (as we did for the last 15 years; that dog never learned to sleep through the night no matter what we did). But to me, the hole in my heart is the biggest minus and no amount of sleep or worry-free vacation could outweigh that.
It's been almost four months since Gypsy died, and while I'm not a catatonic mess anymore, I'm still on the verge of crying at any given time. When we decorated for Christmas, we went to put up the stockings and there his was. I took it out and looked at it for a bit, and my husband said, "What should we do with it? Can it go?" Meaning, this insane man wanted to throw out my baby dog's stocking. I'd love to share whatever crack he is on to make him think I'd agree to something so crazy. It went back in the box - but not up on the mantle. And my tears were at the surface.
Every day when I come home from work, I open the door as if he's going to be there. I unlock it and then push in carefully, ready to block the mutt from running out of the house. And of course, he isn't there and then I get sad. That doesn't usually bring tears, because it's an every day thing. It's just a sadness that comes over me.
When I cook, I look for him. I made ziti the other night and had some extra grated mozzarella on the plate. I went to put it down on the floor for him to eat, because 100% of the time, when I'm cooking, he's looking for a handout. Obviously, he was not there so I threw the cheese out and got depressed. Pizza crust is another bummer. I eat the pizza and look to feed him the crust..and he's not there.
And sometimes, I long to sit on the couch under a blanket and watch tv, just chilling and relaxing, and have my puppy sit with me and cover him with the blanket too and just have him near me with his head on my lap. And of course that brings the tears, because that's what I miss the most. Just having a bestie who is happy just to be around me, as I was happy just to be around him,
I try to look at the pluses of not having a dog - primarily the freedom to go out until whatever time we want or to go away on vacation without needing a dog sitter, and the not-getting-up-twice-a-night-to-let-him-out thing (as we did for the last 15 years; that dog never learned to sleep through the night no matter what we did). But to me, the hole in my heart is the biggest minus and no amount of sleep or worry-free vacation could outweigh that.
Today's Playlist
Here's what I'm listening to today (there's some new-to-me stuff I'm digging, which is a change from me having the same 40 songs on repeat all day, errry day):
- Hello - Adele (sorry, this one has me. My cousin and I have an inside joke going with it, and it just made me love it more.)
- Fall to Pieces - Velvet Revolver (RIP Scott Weiland)
- The Knock - Hop Along
- Waitress - Hop Along
- Sprained Ankle - Julien Baker
- Too Late To Die Young - Beach Slang
- Come Undone - Duran Duran (bringin' it back)
- Drown - Bring Me The Horizon (still love this song; I just can't quit it)
- Fall in Love - Phantogram
- Love, Reign O'er Me - Pearl Jam
- Hard to Imagine - Pearl Jam
- Paralyzed - Failure Anthem (kinda cheesy generic fake-metal ballad, but I like it)
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Bad Work Ethic(s)
I have this co-worker. In the past, I also considered her a good friend and we were quite close. She is a lot of fun - wild, outspoken, hysterically funny. But over the past year or so, I can't get past the person she is at work in order to appreciate the person she is when she's not.
Her desk is right outside my office. I sit in the office that used to house our VP, so it's a big office with big glass walls with an admin's desk just outside of it. I face her all day long, and all day long I watch her do absolutely nothing. She is supposed to be the admin to the VP (who now sits at the other end of the hallway, far from her), but the VP gives her zero work to do. That's partially because she is the laziest person I have ever met and partially because she screws up everything she touches.
So right now, I'm looking out at her. What is she doing? She is staring at her screen and smiling, typing away. Now, we know that she isn't typing anything for work, because she has no work to do. Like, there is literally not one single thing she could actually be typing for work. So we know that she is Skyping with either one of the boys here who she flirts with at her desk for extended periods of time, or with one of the girls who are 15 years younger than her but she still recruits them as friends and talks about mundane bullshit with them at her desk for extended periods of time while everyone else is working. So basically, she follows up her extended bs chatfests at her desk with extended Skype bs sessions.
So why does this affect me? I'll tell you one reason. My department used to do employee activities. We tried to do different things each season and keep things interesting and fun for employees. Then, we were asked to have her do them so she would have something to do. I gave the responsibility to to her, and she proceeded to delegate everything back to my team but still sent out the email announcements. That meant that we did all the heavy lifting and she got the credit.
Now, we are taking the activities back. We have been doing the same tired, boring things for years despite my asking her to spice things up and add some new ideas. So now we are trying to handle things, and she doesn't like it. She is pushing back and holding on and passive-aggressively trying to ruin things. And even if I have liked her as a person in the past, if not as an employee, how can I continue to have any patience for this kind of behavior?
I have high expectations of my friends - I can't help that. I give a lot and I expect a lot in return...but it's not just that. I also expect my friends to be good, honest people. A little crazy, a little unbalanced, a little trash-talky...yes. But at heart, good people with strong morals and solid ethics. The older I get, the less patience I have for people who aren't good at heart and the quicker I am to let them go.
Her desk is right outside my office. I sit in the office that used to house our VP, so it's a big office with big glass walls with an admin's desk just outside of it. I face her all day long, and all day long I watch her do absolutely nothing. She is supposed to be the admin to the VP (who now sits at the other end of the hallway, far from her), but the VP gives her zero work to do. That's partially because she is the laziest person I have ever met and partially because she screws up everything she touches.
So right now, I'm looking out at her. What is she doing? She is staring at her screen and smiling, typing away. Now, we know that she isn't typing anything for work, because she has no work to do. Like, there is literally not one single thing she could actually be typing for work. So we know that she is Skyping with either one of the boys here who she flirts with at her desk for extended periods of time, or with one of the girls who are 15 years younger than her but she still recruits them as friends and talks about mundane bullshit with them at her desk for extended periods of time while everyone else is working. So basically, she follows up her extended bs chatfests at her desk with extended Skype bs sessions.
So why does this affect me? I'll tell you one reason. My department used to do employee activities. We tried to do different things each season and keep things interesting and fun for employees. Then, we were asked to have her do them so she would have something to do. I gave the responsibility to to her, and she proceeded to delegate everything back to my team but still sent out the email announcements. That meant that we did all the heavy lifting and she got the credit.
Now, we are taking the activities back. We have been doing the same tired, boring things for years despite my asking her to spice things up and add some new ideas. So now we are trying to handle things, and she doesn't like it. She is pushing back and holding on and passive-aggressively trying to ruin things. And even if I have liked her as a person in the past, if not as an employee, how can I continue to have any patience for this kind of behavior?
I have high expectations of my friends - I can't help that. I give a lot and I expect a lot in return...but it's not just that. I also expect my friends to be good, honest people. A little crazy, a little unbalanced, a little trash-talky...yes. But at heart, good people with strong morals and solid ethics. The older I get, the less patience I have for people who aren't good at heart and the quicker I am to let them go.
Monday, December 14, 2015
Thinking About the New Year - a Draft
It's about this time of year that I start thinking about the year that is ending as well as the approaching of a new one. I don't put much salt into the idea that on December 31, everything from the year before ends and come midnight, it's a brand new you. I really think that's a formula for failure. I feel like the changing of the year simply gives me time to reflect on how things are going, what I'm happy with, and what I'd like to improve or change. And what I really need to do is to put a plan into place for the things I want to change, because making a promise without considering how to carry it through is just empty and useless.
2015 was pretty damn good. The past few years have been, really. I have very little to complain about and very few things that I feel like I need to dig myself out of in the new year. My family life is fantastic - hubby and I are doing great, TJK and I are in such a great place, my extended family and I are cruising along just as I would want. For the new year, I feel like I need to concentrate on my parents more. It means a lot to my mom and probably to my dad too. Life gets so busy with work and a kid and all the obligations that come with both, so I don't touch base as often as I should. I think what I can do there is to put a reminder on my calendar once a week to call them, and once every other week to stop over or invite them over. I know that won't always work, because we simply don't always have the time (nor do they - they're busier now that they have retired than they were when they were working!). But it's important to put some more focus on them, and that's what I will do.
I also need to focus a bit more on my best friend. She lives in South Carolina, and it's been really hard to stay in touch (other than online). I need to call her more and be there for her and support her, especially since her dad died. I have cut people out of my life over the past few years for being bad friends; she had always been an amazing friend and my biggest supporter. I need to treat her as such.
There is always the obvious one: the be healthier, to lose a few pounds, to make exercise a more solid part of my every day routine. And I am, in fact, setting that as a goal for 2016. For such a long time, I felt strong and powerful - it wasn't about beauty or thinness or vanity (although it helped with those as well, to be honest) - and I don't have that strength anymore. I miss it, and that's what I want back. So rather than setting weight loss goals, I am going to set workout and healthy eating goals. I've been out of it so long (and am so busy), I need to be realistic so that I can meet the goals and build on them.
The last one is about my favorite topic - travel. This is the one that is easiest for me to keep because it's something I love to do. And my resolution is pretty simple - to make the very most out of the 4 weeks of vacation I get from work. Use every day and every moment. When I travel, be in the moment. Don't be so stuck behind the camera or thinking about what's next that I miss the moment I am in. Be adventurous. Don't be afraid of anything, from terrorism to embarrassment. Do everything without fear. Branch out. Do the crazy things.
So basically, for 2016 I have a few things to focus on:
- my parents
- my best friend
- my health
- living each moment
2015 was pretty damn good. The past few years have been, really. I have very little to complain about and very few things that I feel like I need to dig myself out of in the new year. My family life is fantastic - hubby and I are doing great, TJK and I are in such a great place, my extended family and I are cruising along just as I would want. For the new year, I feel like I need to concentrate on my parents more. It means a lot to my mom and probably to my dad too. Life gets so busy with work and a kid and all the obligations that come with both, so I don't touch base as often as I should. I think what I can do there is to put a reminder on my calendar once a week to call them, and once every other week to stop over or invite them over. I know that won't always work, because we simply don't always have the time (nor do they - they're busier now that they have retired than they were when they were working!). But it's important to put some more focus on them, and that's what I will do.
I also need to focus a bit more on my best friend. She lives in South Carolina, and it's been really hard to stay in touch (other than online). I need to call her more and be there for her and support her, especially since her dad died. I have cut people out of my life over the past few years for being bad friends; she had always been an amazing friend and my biggest supporter. I need to treat her as such.
There is always the obvious one: the be healthier, to lose a few pounds, to make exercise a more solid part of my every day routine. And I am, in fact, setting that as a goal for 2016. For such a long time, I felt strong and powerful - it wasn't about beauty or thinness or vanity (although it helped with those as well, to be honest) - and I don't have that strength anymore. I miss it, and that's what I want back. So rather than setting weight loss goals, I am going to set workout and healthy eating goals. I've been out of it so long (and am so busy), I need to be realistic so that I can meet the goals and build on them.
- For January and February, work out twice a week.
- For March and April, work out three times a week.
- By May, be ready to work out consistently 3-4 times a week.
- On January 4, start juicing again for breakfasts.
- Only order healthy foods to be delivered.
- For January and February, cook 2 healthy meals per week,
- By February, be ready to cook healthy meals at least 3 times per week,
The last one is about my favorite topic - travel. This is the one that is easiest for me to keep because it's something I love to do. And my resolution is pretty simple - to make the very most out of the 4 weeks of vacation I get from work. Use every day and every moment. When I travel, be in the moment. Don't be so stuck behind the camera or thinking about what's next that I miss the moment I am in. Be adventurous. Don't be afraid of anything, from terrorism to embarrassment. Do everything without fear. Branch out. Do the crazy things.
So basically, for 2016 I have a few things to focus on:
- my parents
- my best friend
- my health
- living each moment
Monday, December 07, 2015
Giants/Steelers
It's really hard to be a Giants fan.
I mean, it's hard for numerous reasons, not just the obvious one: they blow nearly every game even when they have been outplaying and outscoring in the first 3 quarters. Or at least the first half. There is never a time as a Giants fan that I feel safe, like: Ok, they are up by 20 in the 4th quarter, I can rest easy now. Nope. I was at the Meltdown at the Meadowlands, after all, and watched the meltdown in person. So I understand heartbreaking football and the inconsolable pain that comes with blindly supporting a disappointing team.
The reason I am finding it harder and harder to be a Giants fan is that I have no one to watch Giants football with. My husband is a die-hard Steelers fan, and so is my daughter. My brother in law is also a Steelers fan, and so is his family (to include my niece and occasionally my sister - although she supports the suckass Redskins with their suckass racist name, so the Steelers are at least an improvement there).
Growing up, we were a Giants and Yankees (and later, Devils) house. My dad taught us about football by watching every game with us and walking us through the plays (and teaching us how to say "The Giants suck" in a variety of ways). It was a part of my Sunday to watch my team with my family. When my sister became a turncoat Skins fan, it was an unacceptable betrayal and something we rarely talk about even today (other than during Skins/Giants games where we still bet $1 as we did back in the day).
Now, I have a house full of Steelers fans. I have black and gold all around me and I'm missing the Blue and Red. They watch the games together and I watch too, of course, but I don't have the same rooting interest so I'm not as into it. I see my husband teach TJK about football, and use the methods I taught him for teaching kids about sports (which my dad used to teach me), and I feel sad that she isn't learning about Giants football. When they cheer, I want to cheer with them and be super into it. I want to wave a Terrible Towel along with them. I feel left out and like I am missing something. Because I am. I'm missing the camaraderie that professional sports watching provides.
I can't become a Steelers fan because I bleed blue for the Big Blue Wrecking Crew and have done so my whole life. I can't steal TJK away to be a Giants fan because it's part of the blood-sworn contract between my husband and me: TJK is a Yankees fan for me and a Steelers fan for him and a Devils fan for both of us. So I'm at a strange crossroads of loving my team but being so lonely in loving my team, and hating my team for sucking and having no one to commiserate with about it.
I mean, it's hard for numerous reasons, not just the obvious one: they blow nearly every game even when they have been outplaying and outscoring in the first 3 quarters. Or at least the first half. There is never a time as a Giants fan that I feel safe, like: Ok, they are up by 20 in the 4th quarter, I can rest easy now. Nope. I was at the Meltdown at the Meadowlands, after all, and watched the meltdown in person. So I understand heartbreaking football and the inconsolable pain that comes with blindly supporting a disappointing team.
The reason I am finding it harder and harder to be a Giants fan is that I have no one to watch Giants football with. My husband is a die-hard Steelers fan, and so is my daughter. My brother in law is also a Steelers fan, and so is his family (to include my niece and occasionally my sister - although she supports the suckass Redskins with their suckass racist name, so the Steelers are at least an improvement there).
Growing up, we were a Giants and Yankees (and later, Devils) house. My dad taught us about football by watching every game with us and walking us through the plays (and teaching us how to say "The Giants suck" in a variety of ways). It was a part of my Sunday to watch my team with my family. When my sister became a turncoat Skins fan, it was an unacceptable betrayal and something we rarely talk about even today (other than during Skins/Giants games where we still bet $1 as we did back in the day).
Now, I have a house full of Steelers fans. I have black and gold all around me and I'm missing the Blue and Red. They watch the games together and I watch too, of course, but I don't have the same rooting interest so I'm not as into it. I see my husband teach TJK about football, and use the methods I taught him for teaching kids about sports (which my dad used to teach me), and I feel sad that she isn't learning about Giants football. When they cheer, I want to cheer with them and be super into it. I want to wave a Terrible Towel along with them. I feel left out and like I am missing something. Because I am. I'm missing the camaraderie that professional sports watching provides.
I can't become a Steelers fan because I bleed blue for the Big Blue Wrecking Crew and have done so my whole life. I can't steal TJK away to be a Giants fan because it's part of the blood-sworn contract between my husband and me: TJK is a Yankees fan for me and a Steelers fan for him and a Devils fan for both of us. So I'm at a strange crossroads of loving my team but being so lonely in loving my team, and hating my team for sucking and having no one to commiserate with about it.
Wednesday, December 02, 2015
Jersey Girl Contemplates Living Elsewhere in the World
I love New Jersey. Obviously. I love being close to the beach and the mountains and farmland and authentic ethnic food (from every ethnicity!) and especially to New York City. I love having everything I could ever need practically within walking distance (and most within actual walking distance). I never thought I would ever consider leaving here. It's home, and has been for my whole life.
The older I get, the more I reconsider my whole "Born Jersey, Live Jersey, Die Jersey" motto. Maybe it has come with the extensive travel I have done...but then, I have been seeing the world since I was 21. Maybe it's all the traffic...but then, I've been in one long continuous traffic jam since I learned to drive. Maybe it's all the people and noise...but then, when I'm in quiet places I can't sleep.
The truth is, I think I can handle all of those things individually. It's more that cumulatively, over the past X number of years, it is getting to me. I would love to experience my 7-mile commute to work not taking 45 minutes. It would be great to go to Shop Rite and not have to hit people with my cart and then stand on line for 30 minutes. How awesome would I feel to not have noise and light pollution present at all times?
About a year ago, we went out to Denver. We stayed a few nights in the city and then head to the Rocky Mountains. I was sure I would hate it because I hate nature and all that comes with it...and because my husband convinced me to stay in a cabin. But I didn't hate it, especially the cabin. It was small, but had a really nice kitchen, fireplace, flat screen tv, WiFi, king size Sleep Number bed, jacuzzi, waterfall shower...so all the things my luxury loving side could want. But it was quiet. It was in the woods (but still a quick drive to civilization). There was a babbling brook near it, and that was the only sound we could hear (other than the male elk bellowing to his ladyfriends that he was in the mood for some lovin'). And I really liked it. I liked being slightly disconnected - quiet, calmed, peaceful.
Last month we went to Asheville. We stayed in a quite remote cabin this time - higher luxury with more distance. It was 45 minutes to civilization. This was really hard for me at first. It was so quiet, I had to listen to myself think. When I stood on the deck and looked out, all I saw were trees and distant mountains. My first thought (especially after seeing the spider that had taken up residence with us) was to get the hell out of there. I wanted to head directly to the closest Four Seasons and call it a day. But I tried to let loose. This is something I am actively working on during my travels - stopping my brain from being 10 steps ahead of me and just enjoying and acknowledging the moment I am in. And that's what I did (after our friendly neighborhood spider man had been kicked to the curb). I sat in the moment and listened to the quiet. I looked at the views and I took it all in, and I realized that I enjoyed it quite a bit. Some of my best memories of that trip are of the time we spent in the cabin - cuddled under blankets by the fire watching a movie, standing on the deck looking at those views without saying a word, really just taking it all in.
Due to my husband's job, we aren't going anywhere for at least 10 years. By then, TJK will be in college and we will have some options. I have no idea what we will do or where will go or if we will go at all. But for the first time in my life I am contemplating going somewhere that I can hibernate. Well, at least part of the time. Because you know I am not giving up my dinners out or brewery visits or shopping trips or Sundays at the diner or real pizza and bagels...and there's the Jersey Girl in me, coming out once again.
The older I get, the more I reconsider my whole "Born Jersey, Live Jersey, Die Jersey" motto. Maybe it has come with the extensive travel I have done...but then, I have been seeing the world since I was 21. Maybe it's all the traffic...but then, I've been in one long continuous traffic jam since I learned to drive. Maybe it's all the people and noise...but then, when I'm in quiet places I can't sleep.
The truth is, I think I can handle all of those things individually. It's more that cumulatively, over the past X number of years, it is getting to me. I would love to experience my 7-mile commute to work not taking 45 minutes. It would be great to go to Shop Rite and not have to hit people with my cart and then stand on line for 30 minutes. How awesome would I feel to not have noise and light pollution present at all times?
About a year ago, we went out to Denver. We stayed a few nights in the city and then head to the Rocky Mountains. I was sure I would hate it because I hate nature and all that comes with it...and because my husband convinced me to stay in a cabin. But I didn't hate it, especially the cabin. It was small, but had a really nice kitchen, fireplace, flat screen tv, WiFi, king size Sleep Number bed, jacuzzi, waterfall shower...so all the things my luxury loving side could want. But it was quiet. It was in the woods (but still a quick drive to civilization). There was a babbling brook near it, and that was the only sound we could hear (other than the male elk bellowing to his ladyfriends that he was in the mood for some lovin'). And I really liked it. I liked being slightly disconnected - quiet, calmed, peaceful.
Last month we went to Asheville. We stayed in a quite remote cabin this time - higher luxury with more distance. It was 45 minutes to civilization. This was really hard for me at first. It was so quiet, I had to listen to myself think. When I stood on the deck and looked out, all I saw were trees and distant mountains. My first thought (especially after seeing the spider that had taken up residence with us) was to get the hell out of there. I wanted to head directly to the closest Four Seasons and call it a day. But I tried to let loose. This is something I am actively working on during my travels - stopping my brain from being 10 steps ahead of me and just enjoying and acknowledging the moment I am in. And that's what I did (after our friendly neighborhood spider man had been kicked to the curb). I sat in the moment and listened to the quiet. I looked at the views and I took it all in, and I realized that I enjoyed it quite a bit. Some of my best memories of that trip are of the time we spent in the cabin - cuddled under blankets by the fire watching a movie, standing on the deck looking at those views without saying a word, really just taking it all in.
Due to my husband's job, we aren't going anywhere for at least 10 years. By then, TJK will be in college and we will have some options. I have no idea what we will do or where will go or if we will go at all. But for the first time in my life I am contemplating going somewhere that I can hibernate. Well, at least part of the time. Because you know I am not giving up my dinners out or brewery visits or shopping trips or Sundays at the diner or real pizza and bagels...and there's the Jersey Girl in me, coming out once again.
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