Reclaiming the women's locker room

I work with mostly men.


I am the only woman who is active in our office and therefore I'm the only woman who uses the women's locker room. Due to our disproportionate ratio of men to locker room space, they have been plotting to take over our locker room. About a year ago, they came to each woman in our office and asked if they could use it - under the condition that if we wanted to use it, we would get first dibs. Despite a couple of scuffles to get to the locker room first, they've held pretty true to their word. I've used said locker room several times - but it's only been to change clothes for a run at lunch or to get ready to go to the gym after work.

But as I've stated before, yesterday was Colorado's Bike to Work Day, and that meant that I would need to keep a change of clothes and toiletries in the actual lockers. That's when I realized that our guys had taken over every locker.


So I decided to take one of the lockers back (and yes, I asked before I removed their stuff).

Since the locker that I got was a top one, I couldn't really pee on it to mark it as my space. So I did the next best thing.

In case you can't tell, we've got Vanilla Ice at the top (complete with shaved eyebrows! Word to your mother!)

The cool Cory/Cory combo (Haim and Feldman) AND Davy Jones (after all, he is so very dreamy)

...and last, but certainly not least, we've got "The Hoff" - circa 1980's where manscaping was a very distant thought.Yup. I think this locker is mine.

Giveaway & Good Vibes

Sally from Mais Fica had a fantastic post. Okay, she has plenty of fantastic posts, but this one was fabulous for two reasons:

1) She is hosting a giveaway - so you can stop by her site, read her blog, and then post to win one of three fantastic prizes. But I swear, if one of you wins the rabbit wine corker thingy, you have to invite me over to your house to help drink your wine. What? It's only fair.

2) She gave an award to me....

TADA

See? Isn't it pretty? I can't help but look at it and think that it may be a ball of rubber bands that is held up by Dr. Manhattan. True, I can't tell that it's actually being suspended by Dr. Manhattan's forces (mostly because I can't see his big blue balls in this picture), but I'm pretty sure that it's him.

Anyway, I should probably mention that Sally's blog makes me laugh on a regular basis. I find her delightful and honest... a blog that I enjoy reading daily. So check her out!

True to most blog awards, I'm supposed to pick a few blogs that I really dig. Honestly, anytime I've gotten this award, I've picked the same people - or at least that's what I think I do. So this time, I'm going to go out on a limb and nominate five people I've never met but they have blogs that I find simply delightful.

1. Fat Bridesmaid
2. I Don't Want to Die of A Heart Attack When I'm 25
3. dooce (I know...you guys probably know all about her, but she is hysterical)
4. The Bloggess (again, you probably know about her, but she is SO very funny and sometimes even offensive!)
5. Awkward Family Photos (seriously, this is absolutely hilarious. The captions are funny too - but not completely overwhelming and repetitive as found in certain blogs about cakes)

I've made it!!

I got my first piece of spam email from my blog. Someone asked if they could guest write for my blog - and then they linked to their "blog" which conveniently has absolutely NOTHING to do with what I write about. They sent it to my blog email (happyfunpants at gmail DOT com) so I have to say that I was pretty impressed that they went through all that trouble just to send me spam.


I know, I know...it's not as cool as the spam commenters that Charlie wrote about (down at the bottom of the post), but hey, it's a start.

Hey - also, tomorrow is Colorado's Bike to Work Day. So please, if you see a chubby white girl on a bike, give her a bit of room. I'm biking almost 3 times further than what I did last year and I'm pretty excited about the workout and soreness that I'll experience.

In honor of tomorrow, I've opted to link to what has to be one of my favorite posts of all time. It's about my first bike ride when I bought my bike over a year ago. It's verbose, but funny. :)

It wasn't even speedy!

As you may remember, Thursday I went to a speed dating/pre-dating event in Denver.

Despite my joking, the last time I went there were some great guys at the event - funny, smart, and outgoing. Out of the 12 guys last time, I was picked by 3 to be seen again...although I didn't actually see any of them again. They weren't the ones that I picked to date again. At the risk of being repetitive, this is the story of my life.

This time there were only 6 guys. I was picked by 5 of them to be seen again...which I have to say is quite the ego boost. I am confident that my attire had a lot to do with it as the "girls" were looking mighty fine - thanks to a low cut shirt and a bra that hoisted them up to where they should normally be. Seroiusly, I was even mesmorized by how they looked that night.

The last guy was so seemingly nervous during our "date" that I started wondering if he was having a physical allergic reaction to something he was drinking. His heavy sighs, his pulling at the neck of his shirt, and general weirdness made me think that something was wrong. So I asked him if he was alright, and he said that he was nervous and that the room we were in was making him feel even more nervous. Since it was the last date, he asked if we wanted to step into the bar area and get another beer. The guy was good looking, had a stable job, and seemed nice so I decided to get to know him a tad better. We stepped out of the room, he gave a huge sigh of relief, claimed he was better and then proceeded to act EXACTLY THE SAME WAY.

Twenty minutes later (and four shots of Jager and another beer - all for him) I realized that I needed an exit plan. The guy was just WEIRD. He was slurring by this point, talking about how he'd f--d (his word) a lot of women in the last 90 days to get over the last girl he was seeing but that he was looking for someone that wanted to have kids. He talked about how he read a book called "The Game" which apparently is how to score with chicks at bars - and then he talked about how many women he's f--d over the past few months.

At this point, I was wishing that I had some Purell on me - because not only did I not want to have kids with this guy, I also didn't want to even shake his hand again.

Needless to say, I left him at the bar after only drinking 1/4 of my beer. As I was getting up from the stool, he was SHOUTING "Awww...come on. Don't leave! Don't leave!" I looked to the bartender because I was completely embarrassed and the bartender mouthed "Leave."

Here's where I know I might lose some of you. I was secretly delighted. Sure, it was creepy because the guy is clearly unstable. On the other hand, I was strangely happy that I actually had a guy beg me not to leave him. I know. It's messed up...but it was totally a scene out of a bad movie, and it happened to me! I mean, it's kind of like something off of my bucket list of things that I want to accomplish before I die.

So far my list looks like this:

1. Ride a dolphin
2. Learn to snorkel
3. Start smoking
4. Stop smoking
5. Get a good looking guy to beg me not to leave him in public
6. Skydive
7. Have someone ask to marry me *
8. Have someone who is not looking for his Greencard ask to marry me
9. Find Manbearpig
10. Be a part of a diamond smuggling ring

I think I'm on my way.

*Yes - I'm kidding. Even the illegal aliens are wary of me.

I don't know what I'm looking for

The past couple of Fridays I've been picking songs that I like and imposing them on you. Because I'm pushy like that.

As I reflect on my thoughts from the speed dating event last night, I can't really figure out a perfect song to capture my mood today. Apparently there isn't a song titled, "Not even if you were the last guy alive on Earth." Yet.

I'll try to figure out how to capture the night's events in the funniest way possible to relay them to you...because what good is it for me to go through a sucky situation and NOT share it with you? Suffice it to say, I don't know what I'm looking for, but I know that I just wanna' look some more.

"What I'm Looking For" by Brendan Benson

Well I don't know what I'm looking for

But I know that I just wanna look some more

And I won't be satisfied

'Till there's nothing left that I haven't tried

For some people it's an easy choice

But for me there's a devil and an angel's voice

Well I don't know what I am looking for

But I know that I just wanna look some more

Well I don't know what I'm living for

But I know that I just wanna live some more

And you hear it from strangers

And you hear it from friends

That love never dies, love never ends

Now I don't wanna argue, no I don't wanna fight

'Cause you're always wrong and I'm always right

Well I don't know what I am living for

But I know that I just wanna live some more

I used to be involved, and I felt like a king

Now I've lost it all and I don't feel a thing

I may never grow up, I may never give in

And I'll blame this world that I live in

I visit hell on a daily basis

I see the sadness in all your faces

I've got friends who have married

And their lives seem complete

Here I am still stumbling down a darkened street

And I act like a child and I'm insecure

And I'm filled with doubt and I'm immature

Sometimes it creeps up on me and before I know it, I'm lost at sea

But no matter how far I row

I always find my way back home

But I don't know what I've been waiting for

But I know that I don't wanna wait anymore

What can I say? I'm a slow learner

Ever feel like you're on the cusp of something big? Some life changing event?

Well, that's how I feel. Truthfully, that's how I've felt for a few months and I'm hoping that that is an indication of my dating life being a LOT more exciting than it has been in recent months.

So I've opted to do speed dating. Yes. I know. I tried it last year and although it was a ton of fun, the guys I was interested in weren't interested in me... which is the STORY OF MY LIFE (I'm lookin' at you Josh Hernsberger*).

Anyway, in case you've never seen the movie "Hitch" I'll 'splain it to you:

You sign up online and meet at a bar. You order a drink to try to take the edge off and to be "more like yourself." All participants wear nametags with their first names and you sit in a room in a circle. The women sit in a chair and then men sit down for 3 or 6 minutes at a time. You talk. He talks. Then you rate the person. The night is over and you go home hoping that the guys you liked also liked you. Because you're nervous, you keep drinking. You wake up the next day with a horrbile hangover. You tune into the website and pick the people you want to see again. You avidly check the website throughout the weekend in the hopes that someone is interested in you. No one is. You keep hitting refresh. You still have no one interested in you. You call your cable company convinced that something is wrong with the site and/or server. You convince yourself that the guy must've gotten mugged on the way home from the event because how could he not have seen that there was chemistry between you two? You drink to forget the rejection you feel. You cry. You watch "Beaches" because at least it isn't a damn movie about dating. You cry some more. You call your best friend who lives in a different time zone, waking her up, insisting that she tell you that you're good enough, you're smart enough, and gosh darnit SOMEONE will like you. You tell her that you love her and that you would raise her kid if she died of cancer. You start singing "Wind Beneath Your Wings" to her. You cringe when then man on the other line abruptly tells you to get a life and take singing lessons. You realize you dailed the wrong number.

Or at least that's how it went last year.

So yeah, tons o' fun! Wish me luck! Wait.

Why don't you give me an idea of some questions I can ask the guys as they come to my table?

Because if you don't, I'll be forced to ask questions like, "How do you feel about the movie, 'Beaches?'" and we don't want that...do we?


*This is the second time I've mentioned about my 4th grade crush...and all I have to say is that at some time that poor guy is going to run his name through Google Search and is going read my posts and then high-five himself for dodging a crazy like me. Again. STORY OF MY LIFE.

Justification for Depends...

In TWO days, I get to pick up my very own brand new iPhone.

It's hard for me to concentrate on day to day activities because I'm constantly worried about getting over-exciting and thus messing my pants. In fact, they should probably hand out Depends as they give the phones to their new owners.

Yes. It's *that* exciting.

And no, it's not JUST a phone.

It's a phone that even Jesus supports. Or at least one I think he would support. Speaking of that post, I just re-read it and I have to say that Rex still appreciates my sense of humor. I've double checked since then.

My place is a deathtrap

Yesterday I wrote how my place used to belong to crack whores.

Today, I'm writing to tell you how it's also a deathtrap. I know what you're thinking... and I KNOW! I don't know how I get this lucky either.

It all started with a good idea. In an effort to be greener and to save money, I decided to add ceiling fans to my bedroom and living room.

They're SUPER cute... see?

Anyway, my friend Matt agreed to install them in my house...and so I bought he and his wife rounds of drinks as a way of payment of sorts. I figured if they were saving me the price of a handyman, the least I could do is to try to get them drunk. What can I say? I'm a giver.

A couple of weeks later, Matt and I tried to install the ceiling fan in the living room, when we realized that my bedroom light wouldn't come on at all. Yes. That's right. Just messing with the living room light made my bedroom light inoperable.

Turns out my place was renovated (this is after the crack whore removal...which as I understand it has got to be AT LEAST a 12 step process) by drunken artists.

I write "drunken artists" because it is clear that they were hopped up on some kind of mind altering drug. And I use the term "artists" quite loosely. I think of them as saying to each other things like "That is so FIERCE!" as they slap plaster and install 2x4's and do other renovation-friendly tasks. Things like proper wiring and wall studs not consisting of 95% paper shims seem like guidelines rather than rules to them. Besides, it would totally mess with the FEEL of the place, dahling!

So after hours of scratching our heads and drinking beer (also known as "idea juice") we opted to call an electrician. A few days later, an electrician showed up and was able to fix the problem. Turns out that although the wiring was not made solely out of coat hangers, it was put in by complete idiots. It might've been that the first electricians were too scared of getting beaten up by the pizza thugs or that they got paid in blow jobs by crack whores. All I know is that the wiring is not exactly up to Bob Villa's standards.

The electrician agreed to wire up the in-wall remote. One quick spark/fire later, and apparently it's all fixed.

Don't freak out. I'm totally pulling your leg.

It's not fixed.

See, the electrician didn't exactly FIX the problem per se. It's just that the fire/large spark made the previous problem not exist any more. It didn't FIX it, he just UN-BROKE it. When I asked, the electrician said that he would feel safe sleeping underneath the fan - that the problem wouldn't come back and that it wasn't a big deal. According to him, the wiring was fine and perfectly safe.

Then I told my co-worker, Larry. Who told his friend - another electrician. That electrician apparently said that I should in no way operate the fan lest I have a death wish.

That electrician (who conveniently does not work on residential homes) said that anytime there is a large spark/fire, it's a really bad thing and it can happen again at any moment. Without warning. So I should probably run far, far away right around now.

So now I'm trying to figure out which electrician is right. The one that said as many words as Bob Newhart's brother Earl (no, not that one...his other brother Earl) or the electrician that hasn't actually SEEN the work but rather heard about it through a twisted game of telephone.

In the end, I guess I'm going to call another electrician to my place just to get a 3rd opinion. I don't want a guy who is going to convince me that I need all new electrical work done, but I also don't want some guy to tell me just what I want to hear.

Hiring another electrician to rip apart my ceiling and walls just seems easier than trying to determine if I have a death wish from day to day. Don't you think?

Just like a Norman Rockwell painting, only not.

My place was built in 1882. Sometimes I'm amazed at all that must've gone on in this house. Even though I know that I live in a neighborhood that is an "up and coming" one, I still like to think of all the families and people that grew up here. I liked to think of all the babies that learned how to walk and of all the dreams that were achieved in this place. It has history. It has character.

I recently met a neighbor who said that her whole family has lived here all their lives. She started to tell me about what she remembers about the neighborhood and I settled in for a great story.

What she said was that she remembers when the neighborhood that I live in was so bad that they wouldn't deliver pizzas after dark. Umm...alright. Not exactly what I pictured, but hey, it's an old Italian neighborhood. I reasoned that OF COURSE they mugged the pizza guys. They probably were so offended that the inhabitants didn't make their own, that they HAD to beat them up. So really, it wasn't as much of a thug neighborhood as it was that people really cared about good Italian food. Right?

She then followed that with, "Yeah, up until 10 years ago, your place used to be a crack house."

FANTASTIC.

Turns out that my place does have history.

It's just that it also has connections to the Mob and perhaps an incurable case of VD.

Anne vs Van

Remember when I made a complete fool of myself? Well since then, I've opted to tell that story to just about anyone that will listen. I'm sure people think that it's silly or stupid of me to display my short-comings so quickly to others. However, I believe in a higher authority. Humor. Humor trumps all and any story like that one NEEDS to be shared.

Last Friday night, I hung out with some friends and, of course, I told them the story. They laughed...and then my friend DJ asked, "What if instead of shouting 'ANNE!' he was just shouting 'Watch out for that VAN!"

No. That is not what happened. I'm quite sure.

HOWEVER, I will share that since then, I now look both ways for vehicles that might hit me...and I look at vehicles that I might hit. :)

See, Mom? I'm learning.

I do not think that word means what you think it means

Chassis, my big blue Great Dane, is fantastic. In my opinion, she is the perfect pet - which means that she is the perfect dog (because again, I'm not a huge fan of cats). Despite her health issues, she has the best disposition of any animal I've been around. But then again, I *might* be a bit biased.

She weighs in at anywhere between 140 and 150 pounds, depending on the time of year. That much dog means that she eats a lot of dog food - 6 cups a day to be exact. And in case you didn't major in math, I'll just tell you that that adds up to a CRAPLOAD (pun intended) of dog food over a month. The food that she was on was Eagle Pack Large and Giant Breed. She did so well on it, versus the previous foods that I've had her on (Canidae, Timberwolf, and even some holistic brands) that gave her horrible skin allergies and conditions. She used to literally scratch herself until she was raw. She's allergic to just about everything and changing her diet to or from anything provides more gas than anyone should be forced to be around in their lifetime. So I try not to switch much about her diet.

BUT in these economic times, Eagle Pack has continued to raise their prices. And now a 33 pound bag, which lasts her about 3 weeks, is over $45.00. That means that I pay about $60-$70 a month. A MONTH. Something had to change.

So, at the recommendation of other forums and pet food specialists, I've switched her to a brand called...

EXTREME DOG FUEL!

Although I didn't have a firm idea on what I expected the bag to look like, I guess I did imagine the packaging to be more...well...extreme.

For those that care, she's been on it for about a week and it's working fine so far. Her skin looks great and we're not having any more gas issues than normal. Which means for the most part, I can keep the gas masks in the closet. The added benefit is that at $33 for a 40 lb bag, it's much more affordable. AND they touted that I would be able to feed her less as the food is much more nutrient dense.

I've just cut her monthly grocery bill in half, which means that there is more money to spend on beer Plan B Bibles.

Watch out William Katt...

If I was a superhero (and I'm not saying I am), this would totally be my name.


Protecting the environment, conserving energy, and of course buying only green leather purses, shoes, and accessories.

I'm addicted

...to two things:

1) Watching "Arrested Development" episodes on hulu.com. This show is absolutely hilarious and I finally started watching them from the first episode...which makes subsequent episodes much more funny. I highly recommend it.

2) Playing "Farm Town" on Facebook. At first, when friends told me they were addicted I looked down my nose at them. The game is so rudimentary that it seemed almost insulting to insinuate that I would even like it, let alone be addicted to it. For those that don't know, it's a game where you are a farmer. You plant stuff. You buy stuff and you harvest stuff. You can visit your friend's farms. I KNOW what you're thinking - especially if it is a variant of how lame my life is. I agree. It is lame. BUT, I challenge you to play it for two planting times without wanting to get sucked in. In fact, late Saturday night there were party at my farm with three friends I know from real life. We though it was so funny/sad that that was how we were spending Saturday night that we took a picture to commemorate the moment.

(sigh)

I know. I need to get out more.

If you don't tap your toes, you're dead inside

Fridays have started to be the day for me to share music with you all...so here's your dose of some good tunes!

This week Dave Matthews Band came out with their long awaited album, "Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King." And it is FANTASTIC. I'm partially saying that because I hope that Boyd Tinsley will read it and then realize that we are perfect for each other (seriously, have you seen his hot body?)...but mostly because it is so very true.

Just so you know, iTunes has it for only $9.99 and I have to say, I don't remember spending $10 and being so happy with my purchase.

I've opted to share my two favorite songs from the album. I like "Why I Am" slightly better, but "Shake Me Like A Monkey" is quickly gaining on it. Strange, I know that you should never, ever shake a baby, but are you allowed to shake a monkey? Probably, but I don't want you shaking Pete.

Anyway, happy listening!

It's my way of saying good morning

So, I've gotten into running the last few months...and I really love it. Except for when my knees tell me that I don't.

Since I have the eye doctor's appointment this morning, I used it as a great opportunity to get out there and run first thing in the morning. Typically, it's bright and sunny in the mornings here in Colorado, but today, not so much.

Anyway, as I'm finishing my run, and trying to cross the street, I could've sworn that I heard someone yell "Anne!"

So I, still running, turn to see who was calling me and couldn't see anyone who looked like they were trying to get in touch with me...

...and then I ran into a parked car.

I'm not kidding. I wasn't looking where I was going (obviously) and just smacked right into the side of a van. I felt SO stupid, but I was so thankful that it was early in the morning so it's not like the owner would've seen me or anything. But as I passed the drivers window, I realized that the motor was on. I turned around and saw a person in the front seat looking completely confused.

I smiled, waved, and kept running.

Because seriously, what else could I do?

Do these make my eyes look fat?

'Member when I got my eyes checked on St. Pat's?

Well, because the headaches and eye pain haven't gone away, I finally ordered the glasses. They are SO cute!

I'd love to show you an updated picture so that you can see just how groovy and cute they are... but the truth is, I'm having a hard time wearing the glasses, having my eyes open, and either a) attempting to not vomit all over the place or b) have the pounding headache in my head get worse such that I'd rather be vomiting.

Needless to say, I'm not sure I have the right prescription.

I made an appointment with the eye doctor (by the way, his name is Chester Roe III...and doesn't that sound like the name of a great villain on Scooby Doo?) for tomorrow morning. Worst case scenario, I have to order new lenses for the glasses but that would REALLY piss me off so I hope that that's not the case.

Since I've been having such bad headaches, having to wear the nausea-inducing-and-compounding headache glasses on AND getting pissed off would pretty much be like "Hey - isn't that a fire over there? Here, let's douse it with lighter fluid - just to see what happens." And you know what happens then? People end up losing their eyebrows.

I'm just saying...

Nice try

So I went on a date this past weekend with a guy that is actually quite the pompous ass.

But he's hot.

So I was telling a guy at work about it and he said that if he's that hot, I should "hit it and forget it."

I cocked my head to the side and said, "Do you mean, hit it and quit it? Because otherwise you might be trying to sell me a rotisserie chicken cooker where I should SET it and forget it."

Well, that sucks...

Just a few moments ago I was called into a manager's office where I was told that he was not getting a job we both hoped he would get.

He hoped he would get it so he could move on. I hoped he would get it because I really wanted his job. :) Looking at the people that were eligible for his job, I was the most qualified person to step into his place.

So I sent out a text message to some people that knew about this possible opportunity - just to let them know that it didn't pan out after all.

The silver lining? At least I have a job.

EVEN more of a silver lining? My mom, who does not text and is not the most computer/technology literate person, texted BACK "rats."

How cute is that? My mom actually texted. :) And it was one of my mom's typical mom-isms. She's proper - so she doesn't say curse words...just something along the lines of "fiddlesticks." I just can't get over how cute that was.

So as bummed as I am about the discouraging news, I'm so happy I have a supportive silly mom. :)

Sometimes I'm slow

I was born in Denver. We lived here until I was 8 and although I don't have a ton of memories during that time, Denver was always the place I wanted to come back to.

Six years ago I opted to take a job that had me leaving Oklahoma and moving to Colorado. And I totally lucked out because my Godmother lived in the city that I had to move to...which meant that I could live with her for a month or two until I found a place that I could move into. She was so very cool about it - and insisted that I not pay her rent. She rocks.

The only thing is, as much as she and I were around each other (her daughter is around my age) until we moved away when I was a kid, I didn't really KNOW her. Sure, I'd spent some time around her from age 7 on, but it was pretty limited and all I could really remember was how she didn't seem to have as many hangups as my parents did. She had a papazan chair that we could sit and spin in and our eye didn't even get poked out - which is what my mom was constantly worried about. Oh, and that she let us eat Apple Jacks if we wanted to. And of course, given my cereal upbringing, I took advantage of this whenever I could. Again, she rocks.

Anyway, the day I drove into Colorado, after driving about 12 hours, I was excited to meet her and her boyfriend. After I moved in all my crap, they opted to take me out to eat. Because I was trying to be accommodating, when they asked if I'd like Indian food, I replied with an enthusiastic "yes!" Sure I had never tried it before, but hey, I officially lived in Colorado and was up for anything! They piled me into the back of their SUV and started driving me around the city - swerving to show me landmarks that she hoped I would remember from being a kid.

Oh, did I forget to tell you that I am a bad backseat passenger? As in, I get very sick to my stomach? Alrighty then.

So we arrived at the Indian restaurant and that's when I realized that I'm not a fan of curry...not the way it tastes, and not the way it smells. And curry clearly is not a fan of me.

Getting sick halfway into dinner, I opted to go to the bathroom. And I don't know if it was the altitude, my fatigue, the fact that I had just ingested what tasted like a smelly ball of fire, or I was still fighting nausea from the city tour, but I walked into the wrong bathroom.

Sure, the urinals should've been my first clue, but also the men clearing their throats while peeing. Which is VERY disgusting and you should never ever ever do it thankyouverymuch. This didn't register until I was done and I had to hide out until there were no more people in the restroom.

It was a horrible experience and I think that everyone in the restaurant noticed that I walked out of the men's restroom - including our waiter and my Godmother and her boyfriend. I had been in there for a long time (to wait out the guys) and walked out of the wrong restroom. Quite the first impression.

The problem is that now I'm kind of overly sensitive to this happening again. So I'll literally pause outside of the restrooms at restaurants double checking my restroom choice. Sometimes I have to do some translation when at funky restaurants that think they're being funny or clever. I've learned that while at the Outback, sheilas mean "Anne, pick this one!" Sometimes the choices are super classy - one place had a picture of a taco on the door and a hot dog on the other one.

At any rate, our office has a cleaning guy who will clean our bathrooms and then leave the toilet seats up.

And even though I go to the same restroom each day- the same stall even - I still freeze when I walk in and see the seat up. Because then I'm one curry/fireball away from public humiliation. Which, actually come to think of it, isn't all that different than any other experience at my office.

Huh. Interesting.

I'm going to start shopping for a flask...or a briefcase.

First, I need to let you know that I have a pretty good sense of humor in day to day dealings with people that I work with. The people that I work with? Most of them are self-absorbed assholes who feel like they are the only right ones. You know...just like me. So I try to remember that I have more freedom of speech than anyplace else I've worked and usually that helps me calm down if someone says something that is offensive to me.

Yesterday in a production meeting (with about 15 participants) that we have three times a week, we were talking about...well...production issues. Because I handle a specific product line that few other people handle, I announced that one of our plants (that makes this specific line) was closed for the week for inventory purposes.

It went like this:

Me: Our (specialized) plant is closed for inventory this week- so nothing can be shipped out of that facility.

Him: Is someone else there to handle orders?

Me: Yes. The inside sales group is still working.

Him: Yeah, but what I'm asking is what about emergency orders? Is someone going to be there to field my calls?

Me: Yes - actually, the quote that we discussed earlier for 30 thousand dollars --

Him: (interrupting) No. Stop right there. I know what you're going to say and that's not going to answer my question.

Me: Oh, you do?

Him: Yes. What I'm asking is about emergency orders. Is someone going to be able to handle those?

(silence)

(more silence)

(people in the room look to me)

Me: (raising my hand) OOOH! Pick me! I know the answer!

Him: What?

Me: As I was saying, the quote that we discussed earlier was an emergency requisition for these parts. They are for (I name three different parts) and will be shipped out, on an emergency basis, direct from the factory's vendors. So yes, they can handle specialized emergency orders.

Him: Oh.

So I forgave that...I mean, it was a jerky thing to do, but really? I have been trying to not be upset about the "little things" that people do. And to be honest, I was a little embarrassed that my reaction to his rude thing was to raise my hand and be overly sarcastic about knowing the answer.

UNTIL

Larry and Lance have been doing that to me ALL THE TIME since the meeting yesterday morning. In fact, I was in Larry's office talking about an issue that I was having with our inventory and he held up his hand and quoted this other manager verbatim. And then he cracks up hysterically laughing. So I start saying what I was going to say and then Lance will pop his head in the office and say the same thing that the manager said.

(sigh)

I think I'm going to start bringing a flask to work. It's either that or be prepared to serve time in prison.

It keeps getting better

The guy from work?

Yeah - he's definitely married. He sported his wedding ring yesterday at work and my jaw dropped.

Classy.

Because I love The Clap

"The Clap" - found in such songs as "Jack and Diane" and "That Thing You Do."

This song is in my head about 24-7 these days and I heart it. I'm not going to rank this song against Reduced Fat Cheese Nips, but let's just say that eating RFCN and listening to this song may put me into a happy coma.*

It's "Stay Over" by The Rescues.

Stay Over - The Rescues

*I originally wrote comma instead of coma. I'm not 100% sure what a happy comma is, but I think it's this :,) which kind of looks like a snowman smiley...because he has some sort of carrot for his nose. And now I'm just making stuff up...unlike the medical term "happy coma" which is clearly NOT made up. Nope.

No, I'm not on any drugs of any kind (not that there's anything wrong with that)

I've been challenging myself to write about whatever is on my mind - to not censor as much as I have been in the past. I know, you're wondering how the zit post made it past the censor sensors...and all I can say is that I DON'T KNOW. The censor sensors are apparently faulty. The result? Posts like this. Consider it my gift to you.

--------------------------------------------

I thought about writing a poem called "Ode to Reduced Fat Cheese Nips" where somewhere within the prose, there would be something about Cheese-Its tasting like complete crap and how they are not at all on the same level as Cheese Nips.

But then I realized that my creativity was blocked by the age-old "Cheese Nip deficiency." It seems to be a medical condition. Sadly, the only cure is to eat some. What? It's SCIENCE. And I can't argue with that.

So I ate a couple of handfuls and now I've got this:

Ode to Reduced Fat Cheese Nips

by Anne Not Kennedy

Oh Cheese Nips

You are so very tasty.

I like you a lot.

Get in my belly now.

It's a work in progress...and as every creative person knows, you can't really rush it. I don't want to give a bunch away, but let's just say there is also a song in the works too.

Before your time

I'm 32.

And at night when I'm trying to decide if I want to watch another episode of "Golden Girls" or if I want to head off to bed, I try to remind myself that 32 is not old. It's more of a mantra that I say over and over again, but still!

At work, we use IM quite a bit to communicate. I love it. So since we can all post different pictures of us, I change mine up quite often.

Popular IM pictures of mine are of random objects, old ladies, daisies, babies, or Peanuts characters.

But last week I changed my IM picture to this:

And a co-worker (who is 25) asked me if it was a gang sign.

I explained to him that it's the sign that was on the chest of "The Greatest American Hero" and that William Katt is a brilliant, fantastic man who will always be my first love. And of course, he had no idea what I was talking about.

So I actually said, "It's from before your time." He nodded and went on with his day.

And I was sad...because 32 cannot be old (see mantra).

Just to prove my point, what was your favorite TV show when you were a kid?

An exerpt from an email I just sent

Okay great, I'll see you then!

Oh - and just so you know, I have a zit that is growing bigger and bigger by the second despite all the medication/topical ointments that I am using in an attempt to kill it...it is resilient! In fact, it's probably best that you not make eye contact. Also, whatever you do, DO NOT TAUNT IT. It gets mad.

----

And SCENE!

I know, it's gross. I get it. But it completely cracks me up. Kind of like when the mole from Turk's face taunted Carla on "Scrubs" after he shaved his mustache. And please tell me someone else has seen that episode...

No?

Just me?

Okay then.

If I go missing, please tell my mom I love her

Two weeks ago, a guy in our warehouse receiving department called me for what I thought was business purposes. Turns out, he wanted to ask me a question that his friend texted him earlier that day. That question being, "Why do the white guys not like the thick girls?" He was apparently so perplexed by this question that he decided to "ask the source."

I did not point out to him that I was not the source of the question, but rather a person resembling the subject. Why? Because I don't want to be a complete asshole to everyone I work with.

To be clear, this guy meant "thick" as a compliment. And after about a half second of being hurt that I was being described as thick, I got over it and realized that that's probably a pretty accurate description of me. HOWEVER, please understand that "thick" is not something I want to be described as. So if you start your comments below as "Dear Thick Chick" I will promptly fly to wherever you are and punch you in the kidneys. Yes - both of them. Because I'm not about to get mocked about my size. You may think I'm kidding, but I am so not kidding.

ANYway, the guy went on to say that he thought that I was "rockin' a skirt" earlier that week and that I "kick it" in the jeans I wear. What can I say? He is so right. BUT I don't have any interest in being Kelly from "The Office." So I did what I do best in situations where guys are hitting on me. I play dumb to stall.

I KNOW! You expected more out of me...but the truth is, I don't get hit on often. So when I do, I usually play dumb and wait until the moment passes. The weird thing is that although he was giving me compliments (albeit inappropriately) it's not like he SAID he was hitting on me. And he didn't ask me out. So I also didn't want to freak out and be all "Dude. I am offended! I would never date a co-worker!" and then spray him with pepper spray because he might have been just asking a question. Or at least that could be what he would claim. So I just played dumb and pretended that he really was trying to get an answer of why "all" the white guys don't like the thick girls. My answer, by the way, was "I don't know. I'm not a white guy."

Fast forward to yesterday at lunch when I was getting gas at a nearby gas station.

He pulls up a bay over and calls me over. I walked over to him.

Him: Just so you know, today is one of those days.
Me: Huh?
Him: You know, where you're rockin' it in jeans.
Me: Uh...okay.
Him: Well, I can't hit on you at work...
Me: So you're doing it at a gas station?
Him: Yeah. So....
Me: See you later.

And I walked away.

While I was at the pump, I noticed that he pulled through the bay he was at, and left the gas station to go back to work.

That's right, people. He didn't even need to go to the gas station.

So I let Larry at work know afterwards...and we both laughed the entire time. And then he, straight faced, told me that if I started to feel like someone needed to step in and tell him that he should leave me alone he was happy to do so.

To be truthful, I think that this guy probably got the hint when I didn't flirt back or indicate that that was cool to do. So I think I'm going to be fine. I have no problem with telling someone no and he's taken 6 months to approach me about this, so I really think that he's not going to push it either. It does help to know that someone at work would step in if need be.

But just in case I go missing, tell my mom I love her. And tell the police to look for a guy that resembles Dave Chappelle (only slightly less bug eyed) and drives a teal minivan.

Have Some Cake! :)

Today's song is one that I LOVE.

It's fun and although I realize that many of you have already heard it, it's still worthy of being featured this week.

It's just a fun, upbeat song with a picture of a pig on the album cover...so I cannot guarantee that you won't get Swine Flu by listening to it.

Also, you might start craving bacon. But if you're anything like me, that's a regular craving anyway.

Enjoy your Friday!

It's Your Life

I realize that when you read "It's Your Life" you might've cringed because you thought that Thursday's song was going to feature Bon Jovi. Or maybe you donned your BJ shirt, put on a great hair band wig, and got ready to rock it out.


Either way, you should know that this post is Bon Jovi-free. Well, except for the fact that that's all I've written about up until now.

(sigh)

ANYway, it's no secret that I LOVE "The Biggest Loser" - except for the fact that the person who won this season weighed in at 117 pounds and looks sickly and unhealthy. I guess I should say that I really like the show - except for the finales. A couple of weeks ago, I picked up on a song that played in the background of a couple key moments of the show. After getting goosebumps, I had to find out who sang it.


The song is "It's Your Life" by Francesca Battistelli and I love it.*


Turns out, it's a Christian song by a Christian singer. I know I kid quite a bit about God on my blog, but the truth is, I love Him. EVEN though I think that he's not fair all the time - especially to women. I mean, we have to endure BABY SHOWERS...and there is no pain like that. Maybe it's because I've got two of them coming up...and I swear, if I have to play games about babies, eat baby food, having chugging races while drinking from bottles or WORSE try to identify the chocolate that has melted in a diaper (WHICH LOOKS LIKE POOP -it's not funny, it's just gross!) I'm walking out. Wait. One of the moms reads this blog...so now I HAVE to stay. Wait. She's Jewish, so she might've stopped reading at "Christian." Maybe I'm safe. Whew! Thank you Jesus!


Sorry, people. Back to the music stuff.

I actually love Francesca's CD because the tunes are catchy and, for the most part, they're a lot about how the future is unsure and she's having to learn just to trust that things will work out. And wow does that sound like me - the control freak that I am?

Without further ado, here is the song:

*I know I'm not exactly selling this, but I think the only line I DON'T like is "The world is watching you" mostly because I put enough pressure on myself without having to think that the ENTIRE WORLD is watching everything that I do. I do, however, like the idea of the song...that each choice we make shows what is important to us. A pastor of a church I used to attend said, "To see what you really value, look at where your money goes each month." That thought stuck with me, and I like that this song helps remind me that the little intentions and actions do matter in anything: weight, health, faith, work, or your personal life.

Wednesday's Magical Song

To recap, we had country on Monday, funky groovy tunes yesterday, and today? Well, today is a a great day to pause, reflect, and gather your strength to keep going - after all, you're halfway through the work week!

I find when I'm in moments of reflection that I crave soft, mellow music. Something to soothe my soul and my ears. That soothing reminds me that the person that cuts me off in traffic IS a person. And that their affront isn't personal to me. The soothing songs remind me that "this too, shall pass." Getting bent out of shape only hurts me.

Favorites of mine when I'm in this mood are Joshua Radin and Colin Hay. Yes...THE Colin Hay from Men at Work. He has some wonderful acoustic, soft stuff. In fact, I ALMOST chose "Wating For My Real Life to Begin." But today, I've chosen "Keep Breathing" by Ingrid Michaelson.

In my opinion, this song is magical. When I'm listening to it, I'm soothed by the reminder to well...keep breathing. Sometimes in times of stress or depression, I've found that that is about all I can do to stay sane...just keep putting one foot in front of the other and to keep breathing.

Here's the song - for you to push play at any moment...just know that if you feel like crying after hearing it - especially at the part where the music swells towards the end - you're human.

I hope this song helps someone as much as it's helped me in my life. :)

Funky Tuesday - good times

Music week continues!

Yesterday I introduced you to a country song that I absolutely love...and today, we're gonna' get funky.

Among my friends, it is well known that I'm a huge DMB (Dave Matthews Band) fan...and a couple of years ago, my younger sister came up to visit me in Denver. We caught DMB and were SO lucky to see Robert Randolph and the family band as the opener. THEY ARE FANTASTIC.

You probably best know them from their "Ain't Nothin' Wrong With That" which is great!

But today's song is my favorite one by the band, titled "Good Times (3 Stroke)".

Although I'm not a huge fan of the wailing guitar at the beginning (I've never really been a Jimmi Hendrix fan) it gets so good as it gets going! Kind of like when you try a friend's food that she made to be nice and you have your doubts about it because it looks icky...but then as you taste it, you're all "How can I kidnap/blackmail her into making this at my house daily?" Or maybe that's just me.

Anyway, I dare you to start listening to it and NOT tap your feet to the tune in the middle. It's THAT good.

So, here's a bit of a dilemma. They DO have it on iTunes HERE. But the clip that they have isn't going to give you a taste of it. I tried to find it on the same site as yesterday's song, but that was NOT the song. YouTube has many versions, but they're live and to be honest the person holding the camcorder is lucky that I didn't come through the computer and slap them on the head for talking through the performances.

So, that leaves us with this option, via lala.com (my older sister's advice). Hope it works!

Good Times (3 Stroke) - Robert...

Music week

Alright people, I feel like having a theme week... So TADA! You get subjected to my taste in music.

I think it's mostly because I added that little music tracker on my page. It's kind of like a one of those huge zits you used to get when you were in high school...or in my case, that I sometimes still get. Now that I know it's there, I'm focusing on it. The result is that every time I listen to my iPod or the radio and a song I like comes on the radio, I'm all "OMG! I totally need to feature that as my music pick of the week." It's only Monday and I already have WAY too many on the list.

So...I've decided to make it a music week - where for the next week, you'll get subjected forced encouraged to listen to a different music song that resonates with me.

Today's music choice is "Stand" by Rascal Flatts.

Feel free to click the button to hear this song! :)

The first time I heard this song, I was visiting Joella's myspace page. She had just added this song and I was amazed at how much it touched me.

It's been a favorite of mine during this weight loss phase of my life, because I guess it gives me the courage to stop victimizing anything that has happened to me. It gives me the courage to just try one more time and when I'm running, I run the hardest and fastest during this song.

Without further ado, here are the lyrics:

You feel like a candle in a hurricane
Just like a picture with a broken frame
Alone and helpless like you've lost your fight
But you'll be alright
You'll be alright

Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend, till you break
Cause it's all you can take
On your knees you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad, you get strong
Wipe your hands shake it off
Then you stand
Then you stand

Life's like a novel with the end ripped out
The edge of a canyon with only one way down
Take what you're given before its gone
Start holding on, keep holding on

Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend, till you break
Cause it's all you can take
On your knees you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad, you get strong
Wipe your hands shake it off
Then you stand (then you stand)
Yea, then you stand (then you stand)

Everytime you get up
And get back in the race
One more small piece of you
Starts to fall into place, yea
Ooohhh

Cause when push comes to shove
You taste what you're made of
You might bend, till you break
Cause it's all you can take
On your knees you look up
Decide you've had enough
You get mad, you get strong
Wipe your hands shake it off
Then you stand

If you want to buy the song, you can find it HERE on iTunes.

What I'm listening to these days

Alright, so if you haven't noticed, I added a little gadget on the left side of my blog - it's called "What I'm Listening to These Days."

I've been trying to figure out a way that I can post songs that I absolutely adore without donating a whole post to it. Basically, I've found that music is such a window to the soul - and there are songs that I simply can't get enough of from time to time.

This week it's Rocco DeLuca's "Colorful." That song came out a while ago, but I recently heard a live version on one of my favorite radio stations in town...and now I love that version. The original version is pretty cool too though. :)

Since I had to link it to something, I opted to link it to iTunes...but feel free to check it out anywhere else. YouTube's links are sometimes a little weird because I've found that I can't always find what I'm looking for on there...and sometimes in order to listen to the song, you've got someone else's visual weirdness up there.

Anyway, I'm not trying to push iTunes...it just happens to be what I use. Because I love all Apple products. :) BUT I promise I'll look the other way if you choose to get it via other means.

The Biggest Difference

I watch "The Biggest Loser" and I have to say that I simply adore this show.

The first season I watched it was last season...and I was awed by how much weight some of these contestants lost. It was inspiring. And last season's winner, Michelle, was someone that I identified with. She was the person who had emotional problems (who doesn't?) that they chose to air...and what kept coming up was that she was a giver and was afraid to stand up for what she believed in. She was afraid to say "No."

This season, they've had the biggest people that they've ever had. And they have lost a LOT of weight. One of the contestants has lost 164 pounds in 17 weeks. 17 WEEKS! I've lost a little over 50 in a LOT of weeks...so I can't even imagine what they've gone through.

The biggest change has been (from what I understand) basically this episode. They have to go home for 30 days and then weigh in to see who makes it to the finale. Usually they just go home and then come back after an indeterminate amount of time later for the final weigh in. At that time, they either lost weight and were "The Biggest Loser" or they didn't. But THIS time they have to prove it that they can do it at home.

And they're struggling.

I am so thankful that they're showing this side of the weight loss. One woman was asking her friends "Didn't you see how miserable and unhappy I was?" This same woman talks about how she's going to have to learn to trust her friends and (gasp!) ask for help. Another woman asks her husband "How did I get to think that this (holding up her pants) was okay?" She admits to living a secret life - one draped in pain, hurt, and secret eating. A young man is forced to get in touch with his feelings and his issues with family as he fights past the urge to binge at fast food places all the way home.

THIS IS REALITY TV.

It's tough to lose weight. It's tough to struggle with how much to drink or eat when you're out with friends. It's tough to date and deal with all issues where you completely doubt yourself and your worth. It's tough not to get wrapped up in the number on the scale. And it's tough to figure out where the balance is in life - not just in eating or exercising.

Usually I save these posts for the other blog. But watching this TV show made me want to shout out to everyone I see, hear, or even think about... THIS IS MY LIFE!!!

I struggle with consistency. I struggle with feeling ravenous at times when there is no logical reason for it. I struggle with guilt issues. I struggle with anger towards my family members. I struggle with saying "no." I struggle with wanting to feed emotional issues with food. I struggle with trying to push it too hard and fast in exercising. And I struggle with trying to control SOMETHING...and food (or exercise) has been a great way for me to assert that control.

Watching the show tonight has helped me feel not so alone. It's helped me feel that I'm a part of something, well... bigger than me.

I love that they're showing that these people are human. That entering your "old" life after 17 weeks is completely catastrophic and that it takes time to acclimate. I love that they're showing that the quick fix of a TV program, pill, supplement, or even surgery isn't easy. And long term emotional issues rear their ugly heads even after the weight is gone unless you DEAL with the long term emotional issues.

My challenge (to myself) is to live life in the middle. To not be such an extremist with my weight, my food, my exercise, my love life, my career...anything. Living life in the middle means feeling pain. It means having issues and at least trying to be okay with them by working through them. It means acceptance.

Life is tough... and as silly as it sounds, I've been figuring out that life is tough even for people without weight issues. Tonight's show helped illustrate what my life could be like AFTER the weight is gone. I need to deal with my issues as much as I can now...because being skinny doesn't mean that the problems go away.

Huh. Go figure.

The biggest difference between me and the contestants? It's that they're on TV and I'm not.

Wow...Already?

I knew I would feel older...but this morning was a bit too soon.

I guess I wasn't prepared for listening to the "oldies" station and hearing The Police's "Every Breath You Take."

(sigh)

Really? Have I gotten that old?*



*To answer that, I'll quote a recent episode of 30 Rock:**

Jack: “I’m 50. To put it into perspective, that’s like 32 for ladies.”

**30 Rock is a seriously funny show. If you didn't watch it, Jack was telling Liz about how he feels old, he feels the need propose to his girlfriend now.

Losing feeing in your boobs...oh, and flowers

Today is my birthday. :) I am thirty-two years old.

And I just want to say that I had a pretty darn good birthday.

Matt and Kelly took me out to a great burger joint last night (my choice) and we had a great time. To show what a great time we had, we opted to take pictures.

I was feeling pretty good about my age until I saw this picture:


And that's when I realized that being 32 means that you lose all feeling in your boobs. I had no idea she was touching my boob!

Alright, she swears she wasn't actually touching it, but can I just say that it was very disconcerting to see the picture and not remember that sensation?

Okay then. It was very disconcerting.

Anyway, today I slept in, cleaned up around the house, and went to Home Depot to buy mulch for the backyard and some pretty, pretty flowers. :) I planed them and am really happy with the results! I meant to go outside and take pictures earlier... But because I'm a procrastinator, all you get are these pictures that I took in a hurry as it started to rain. This picture of my front garden doesn't do it justice - there are some great colors in the flowers and (of course) there are some really cute Marguerite and Shasta daisies. :)


And can I just tell you how fantastic my mom is? She sent me these flowers...aren't they beautiful?So all in all, I had a pretty darn good birthday weekend.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to yell at the meddling neighbor kids to get off my lawn, slather myself in anti-wrinkle eye cream, watch "Murder She Wrote," and then have a nice cup of warm milk.

I'm not going to lie to you...this is just weird

Today I went to the post office to mail my older sister her birthday card and a CD full of songs. FYI, her birthday was over a month ago. *

Anyway, when I pulled into the parking pace, I couldn't help but feel like SOMETHING was looking at me.

Turns out, it was two somethings.

In case you can't tell, what you're looking at is an SUV with a 2x4 attached to it. On the 2x4 there are sticks/skewers with Barbie heads on them. To complete the look, this vehicle also comes with bras (there are actually two of them - layered - apparently for warmth) wired to the hood of the vehicle.

The Barbie head on the right side is bare, but the Barbie head on the left side comes with her very own cell phone:

It's creepy, undoubtedly. But I'm perplexed because I can't help but feel that this person was trying to make a statement with this contraption...but the statement is lost on me because I, apparently, am not as fluent in crazy as I thought.

Also, I don't get why the Barbie head is using a cell phone like that...I mean, wouldn't a hands-free Bluetooth headset work better?

*For the record, I actually mailed it earlier, but it was returned due to insufficient postage. Then I left it at home multiple times, then I left it at work multiple times. Most recently I went to the post office and realized that I didn't have my wallet with me. If you haven't been able to tell by now, I'll just spell it out for you: I have issues.

I know...

So yesterday just before noon, I decided to send the date guy an email. It said: I had a great time, hope you're having a great day, and sorry about breaking into your place to steal your pillowcase. You know, the usual post date stuff.

And it has been a lot of hours and he has not written back.

So I think that that's a pretty clear answer that he is "just not that into me." I'd like to shrug it off...and I'd like to say that it doesn't bother me at all. But then I remember that I'm human and it's okay to be bummed that a totally cute guy who's smart and seems to have his crap together doesn't like me back. For the record, I have read "He's Just Not That Into Me" and yes, I agree with his points- it makes me feel a tad better because it makes logical sense. GAH! Stupid logic!

Besides, I don't want a guy that has a great job...I mean, what would I do with all of those piles of money? They'd clutter up my place for sure...and that means more dusting. Not for me, but for the maid we'd have to hire.

In all seriousness, I think I'm taking this a tad harder because in a few days I will be one more year older. And even though I've done a lot in this year to be proud of, ending it with rejection wouldn't be my first choice.

Who knows?

So the date actually went pretty well. We met downtown and ended up walking for about an hour and a half - just walking around downtown, the capitol, and eventually near the Denver Art Museum.

Personally, I had a great time. The guy was cute, knowledgeable, polite, and just an all around great guy. We were approached by a guy in an eye patch for money, which was strange, but hey - it makes for a great first date. :)

Here's where I need your help. The guy is really sweet and very genuine. He's already said or written that he's one of those nice guys...

In emails he's said that he found me beautiful that he "couldn't wait" to hear from me...you know, all the great stuff we want to hear. When I talked to him on the phone, I came to realize that he is quite a bit more...reserved. He's genuine and polite, he's just not OUT there like me. Personally, I like that. I tend to look for guys that are calmer than me because if that doesn't happen, it's can be like to Jack Russel Terriers together. And if you're not a dog person, just know that that's not a good thing. Anyway, on the phone, he still was interested, but very calm about it.

So last night, at no point was he complimentary nor was he at any point uncomplimentary. He was a perfect gentleman - polite, nice, and at times pretty darn funny. But it's not like he said anything about my appearance, or that I looked like my pictures, or that ....well...anything.

There were two parts in the conversation that I can think would've been good signs:
1) After we had been walking for about an hour (and were about 20 minutes away from our cars), we were talking about good jazz clubs (we were walking by one). And there were a ton of restaurants around there. He asked if I had eaten. I said yes and asked him if he had and he said yes, but that he just wanted to make sure that he wasn't dragging me all around downtown without feeding me. I FEEL like this is a good thing because he was almost completely done with me so he could've just dropped me off at the car and been all "SEE YA!" BUT then I remember that he's a nice guy so maybe he was just doing what was polite.

2) We were between our two cars (which were about 3 blocks apart) and it got to this weird awkward stage where I could've started a new topic or let the old one die off. So I let it die off and then said something like, "Well, thanks for meeting with me." And he said that he had a good time with me and that he'd like to do it again. I know...you're thinking WHY is she freaking out? This is her answer! And I hear you. Only, for the next 10 minutes as he walked me to my car (and we were talking), he didn't ever say that he would call me, or email me, or...well...any sort of call to action. So it was weird.

Basically, I feel a little nervous because this is the first guy that I really would like to date again. I couldn't read his signals so I don't know what he was feeling...and waiting it out to see if he calls or emails?

Ugh.

It'd be like prison.*

So what do you think?


*No, not really. :)

Quarters

OH MY GOSH.

First, you need to know that I am a freak about things being even. I don't know what it is about me, but if someone picks up my meal or beer I feel guilty somehow. It takes me a LOOOOOOOONG while to not be all weird about it. It's driven boyfriends of mine crazy because I insist on paying for my fair share. I'm getting better about it...but it's a slow process.

So the guy that I'm going out with tonight emailed me a little while ago saying that he was looking forward to the date. I, of course, replied and let him know that I was looking forward to it as well. It sounded hokey to leave the email at that, so I opted to write something else. Since we're meeting downtown (and a lot of the parking is metered), I wanted to write:
I'm not quite sure of parking around there, but I'll come prepared with many quarters. :)

I sent off the email and got a response back that said some other stuff and then:
I should be done by 7 and I am about 2 blocks from (numbered street) and (non-numbered street) so when you call I will be there fast!

And I was all...WHAT?

I read back through what I wrote and it turns out that THIS is what I wrote:
I'm not quite sure of parking around there, but come prepared with many quarters. :)

I didn't even KNOW that I insinuated that he should pay for my parking. And what kind of diva is he expecting? Of course, I immediately shot him an email back saying that I didn't mean that he should pay for my parking and apologized. That he rolled with the punches and went with the flow is pretty great in my book. Had it been me, I'm not sure what I would've responded with...

(sigh)

Nothing like making a great first impression. I feel like such a tool.

Updating things

So I'm planning on updating a few things about my website...including a music section which I am SUPER excited about.

Stay tuned. :)

Oh - and I have a date tonight with a super eco-friendly, nice, genuine guy from match.com...wish me luck! :)

That's why they call them "sneakers" :)

Today I participated in the Cherry Creek Sneak 5K with my friend, Kelly.

We mostly walked it mostly because of my stupid, broken knees. Because she is a great friend, I never felt like I was slowing her down and that she wanted to kick me in the shins. We did the 5K in about 49 minutes, which was pretty impressive given that the start of the race was like my worst nightmare (aka like Christmas shopping at the mall) where there are PEOPLE EVERYWHERE WHO ARE MOVING SLOWLY. I deserve a prize for not pushing people. See, Mom? I did learn something in Kindergarten my senior year of high school college.

Because I know you all can't get enough pictures of me, TADAAAAAA!!!

Since I did not get express written consent to include a mighty sassy picture of Kelly, I won't post it here. Just picture the cutest, sassiest picture ever and that's pretty much what it looks like. :)

Despite popular belief, I do have my standards

These days saving money is a big hot topic. And it should be. There are thousands of ways that we can save money - one of those being going generic instead of always having to have the popular brand name items.

I was thinking this morning that there are certain things I will not go generic for....

Here is a list:
1) Cotton swabs. People, if you are on the generic side of cotton swabs, please know that there is a better life out there! Q-Tips do not hurt when you use them, the cotton doesn't come off, and the stick gives bend when it needs to, but doesn't break. They are, in a word, sturdy. You may be asking what I do with cotton swabs to require these these attributes. And just so you know, the sky is the limit! I could do ANYTHING with them because they have these attributes. Every year for Christmas, my mother gives me a generic pack of cotton swabs...proof that she always liked me the least.

2) Birth control. Some people are fine on generic birth control. I, as my friends and family found out about 7 years ago, am not one of those people. I was unreasonably bitchy (compared to now, when I feel I am reasonably bitchy), moody, and my palms itched. Apparently my moods (my moods, my moods, my lovely lady moods!) fluctuate with no warning while on generic birth control. I figure it's a foretaste of the feast to come when I'm pregnant. WHICH I AM NOT. But don't worry, I'll never show my future husband this post...and he'll have no idea what he's getting himself into. Seriously though, as you all are saving money these days, this may not be the thing to scrimp on. I'm just saying: be careful.

3) Triscuits. All "whole grain weaves" are not the same. Please learn from my mistake and trust me. Stick with the Triscuits.

4) Sneakers aka tennis shoes. Your feet are important. And no matter what type of exercise you're getting, it's important to have them supported as much as possible. As an adult, your shoe size isn't changing...and in my opinion, name brand sneakers last much longer anyway.

What about you?

What stuff are you not willing to go generic for? What generic stuff is better than the brand names and you recommend buying the generic?