WORDS! OMG!

1.     I have gained 18 pounds in the last 11 months. This is unacceptable. About half of that is from the time I spent eating and drinking my way through Colorado (and then celebrating my time at home with more eating and drinking) and half from the last month or so. The last month portion is thanks to a variety of factors:

A.      I’m only marginally employed. I have a job and a paycheck and all that jazz, but I’ve been between projects which means I have lots of time to sit around in close proximity to the fridge.

B.      I’ve been battling a case of the blues. This is partially because of my lack of a place to go every day, but also because I’m pretty unfulfilled in terms of love and career. The effort to make changes in these departments has taken A LOT of energy, but ultimately has failed (for now), which has been discouraging and exhausting and has also led to a lot of couch à refrigerator à couch à refrigerator circles.

The good news is that the family and community portions of my life are rich and I couldn’t ask for more. I’m trying to eek out some wins in the career department to push me over to the greater-than-50%-happiness side of things (assuming 25% weight across the family, community, love and career categories, though I don’t necessarily think the weighting is truly equal). 50% happiness isn’t baaaaad and plenty of people would be happy to be 50% happy, but I’m used to being closer to 75% and I’d like to get back there. (I won’t even get into the topic I spend a lot of time thinking about: Does anyone get 100%? Should I be content with 75%?)

2.       The bonus to being only marginally employed is that I’ve enjoyed a lot of flexibility with my workout schedule so I’ve been kicking ass and taking names. We could argue that at least a smidge of that 18 pound weight gain has been because I’m building muscle and sure, I’ll agree to that, but I know I haven’t gained muscle in my face, so plenty of it is fat.

3.       Dating is brutal and I do not recommend it. I’m trying to decide if it’s more draining than a job search but I really can’t tell. Both involve significant effort and lots of rounds of interviews and long periods of anxious waiting.

Part of my current struggle is that I got kicked in the head by a job prospect and a relationship prospect in the same week and, as Leslie pointed out, in virtually the same way:

You are really great and but we’ve decided to close this particular rec. We like you SO much that we tried to see if there was another role we could put you in but decided that the timing just isn’t right. We may have a spot for you in the next 3-6 months though so please keep in touch!

And then:

You are really great but I’m realizing that I’m just not as ready for this as I thought I was and last week I was cool but this week I’m freaking out and all I’m doing is making us both crazy while I try to sort through my crap. The timing isn’t right. Please keep in touch.

Seriously, Internet. THE.SAME.WEEK.

But then because my community is 100% amazing, my lady friends circled the wagons and we drank a lot of pink champagne together. There were also a lot of spin classes to counteract all the pink champagne (see: #2).

I beat my head against the dating wall all the time, but to actually like someone is *rare*. “OMG that guy couldn’t stop touching his teeth!” or “OMG the first words out of his mouth to me were ‘Just so you know, I don’t have a sense of smell’” or “OMG he smelled like old sweat” are easy peasy to move on from (“run away from” is more like it). But “OMG he was cute and he smelled like soap and he enjoys his family and we could talk foreverrrrrrr” was a tough one to walk away from (I did manage to beat him to the punch, but just barely).

The search for cute, pleasantly scented, from-a-nice-family, employed and EMOTIONALLY STABLE men continues. If anyone knows where they’re hiding, I have half a dozen amazing single ladies on my team who would also like to tap into this elusive circle.

So, I’m sort of sad and fat these days. Unfortunately, they’re a coordinating set. 

But *fortunately*, I have friends who will drink pink champagne and go to spin class with me (not usually in that order) and I have the five cutest nieces and nephews in the whole entire world so my 50% of awesome is REALLY awesome.

And speaking of those perfect children, so help me God, I *will* video my miracle niece saying my name. Even though she can say “Elizabeth” perfectly when telling you what her name is (her middle name is Elizabeth), she can’t say it at allllll when she’s talking about me. “Aunta Bip Bip Bip” is the best I can type it. And because she’s a sassypants (the fucking fours, we’re told), if you directly ask her what my name is she starts purposefully speaking jibberish.

But when I walk up to their house and I hear “AUNTA BIP BIP BIP!!!” I care far, far less about the crappy 50%.

I have known all these ladies since we were teenagers

You know what's totally stupid?

I see pictures like this one from a wine tasting trip last summer, where I'm not in a particularly flattering position (hello thigh spread!), and I'm surprised that while I'm definitely the fat one, I don't look like Jabba the Hut compared the others, but in my head this is an optical illusion and that in real life I *am* Jabba-esque:

There are pictures that confirm my Jabba theory (like one my mother took on Christmas that was from a sitting-down-and-looking-up-at-me angle and where I was holding a tiny little five week old baby -- a prescription for an unflattering photo), but there are ten times as many where I look way better than I do in my head...yet I believe the Jabba ones are true and all the others are just flukes.

There's no talking me out of it, but that's what's in my head.

Jabba the Hut with an ass of steel, of course. That's part of me I know is true.

But I'm still happy to have pictures like this one because I look happy to be with women I enjoy and admire, which is also true.

And the other thing that is stupid is that one of these ladies has expressed similar thoughts about herself and it blows my mind because I look at her and see a strong, healthy, successful, funny woman and I totally don't get it...except then again, I totally do because the same could all be said of me, but I see it all so differently.

Maybe 2013 is the year I fix all that. Or maybe it'll be 2014. Or never.

PITY PARTY, PARTY OF ONE!

Okay so despite my badassery yesterday and the YAY, I LOVE MY LIFE-ness I had going on last week, I'm having a pretty frustratingly crappy holiday weekend.

I couldn't find any trouble to get into on Thursday night, I was laying low on Friday night in preparation for my big hike on Saturday morning, my Saturday night plans got canceled and I couldn't find a backup, which is sorta okay because I was in pain from the hiking but I also really just wanted someone to hang out with because I nursed my hiking wounds with multiple episodes of Dexter and I freaked myself out but whatever, I could get over it because I was going to get up early on Sunday and go to a Pure Barre class (similar but not equal to the Dailey Method classes I like so much -- I had a Groupon) and then I was going to bottomless mimosa brunch and day of bouncing around downtown with Lauren but then got an early morning cancellation from her because she was still feeling the hurt from the hiking and now here I am, sitting around, typing a really long run-on sentence and feeling sorry for myself on a Sunday afternoon that is really like a Saturday because nobody has to work tomorrow.

So what was going to be a busy weekend of things to do has suddenly fizzled out and even though my body hurts, I'm having trouble appreciating the downtime. Or maybe it's BECAUSE my body hurts, I'm feeling all pathetic and needy. And then beating myself up for feeling pathetic and needy.

The blue bug that noboday cares about but me. Waah.

I know that I'm the only one who cares about the bug bite on my ass and you all probably thought it was already gone because it's been TWO WEEKS AND ALL, but YOU GUYS, I swear to you, if that bug turned out to have LAID EGGS, I WILL D-I-E.

I don't actually have a reason to think it did, other than THE PAINFUL SORE THAT STILL EXISTS ON MY ASS. The scab seemed to have fallen off last week but that mofo is still a crusty lump that hurts every damn time I sit on a hard surface...like...say...THE TOILET.

Just keeping you informed.

And I was going to tell you about Joanie's wedding but decided that it would be nicer of me to give that its own post instead of including it in the bug bite on my butt post.

Wah wah wah, my life is soooooo hard.

I had high hopes for my silent journey.

TOO high hopes, it seems.

I thought I'd finally get to escape from all the crap that has been swirling around me for months, I'd find peace and I'd come home feeling renewed.

None of that happened. The opposite happened, actually.

I didn't have any distractions so all I could do was focus on how confused I was about everything and the tiny, perfect resort I was holed up in somehow became a prison.

That sounds SO cliche, I know, and I want to punch myself in the face for feeling all these things I think are weak and melodramatic when others experience them...but there I was, driving around Palm Springs in my rental car, hoping for something better but having to pull over so I could have my crying fit without risk of crashing the Hyundai.

I am a champion at feeling sorry for myself on my birthday. This year was just amplified. And then squared.

I did actually try to come home on Saturday and just eat the cost of the plane ticket, last night at the hotel and last day of services at the spa. It would only cost me $100 extra to return the car in San Francisco so LET'S GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, HYUNDAI! Except the reasonable me eventually woke up and realized that it was too late in the day to start a 450 mile trip and that I'd be regretting my decision sometime around 10PM that night when I was still 200 miles from home.

So here's what I did:

1. I picked up a pizza.

2. I bought a bottle of wine and some cookies.

3. And then I ate them, which was kind of the opposite of the "I really don't care if I ever eat again" plan that I've been on in recent weeks.

My alternate plan was to take a shower and then take myself to a fancy birthday dinner somewhere in Palm Springs but decided that I'd rather spend $25 on my Pizza Hut, cheap wine and store brand cookie feast than $75 on a chic solo dinner when I knew I'd finish either one and feel the same.

(Proof of my financial responsibility, yo!)

4. So whatever. I made the best of it and met a lady in the hot tub who was excited about getting a floor model couch from Restoration Hardware for 60% off and another lady with dreds and tattoos who told me that she met her husband at Carrow's but that he hates it when she tells people that.

5. And then I did a few laps in the pool and thought about how lucky I was to be floating around in the desert, looking at 50,000 stars.

And then I went to bed and when I woke up, my birthday was over.

Blah blah blah. I woke up the next day, did some more floating around in the mineral water, found a really big, blue bug hiding in my bathing suit and treating my left butt cheek like a buffet (and leaving a painful and now itchy hole in my skin), had a massage (which I decided would be my last...I'm not a huge fan anyway but it occurs to me that I don't like taking my shoes and my belt off at the airport because I don't like the unwelcome intimacy with strangers, so why would I take off my clothes and let some lady who doesn't give a crap about me rub my back?) and then headed home.

All in all, silent journey: FAIL!

Things

1. I reallyreallyreallyreally need to get away and I found a place in Desert Hot Springs (THANKS TINKA!) that would totally fit the ticket but they have a one week cancellation policy and I have no idea if I'll still want to drive all that way and be by myself 10 days from now (I was shooting for Memorial Day weekend). I think I'm going to give it a week and if they still have a room available in a week and I'm still feeling like I want to go somewhere and be alone and sweat my frustrations out, I'll hightail it down to the desert.

But right now, Internet? I've never wanted to go sit by a quiet pool in 100 degree heat as much as I do now.

Alternatively, I'm going to make a big neon sign that says LEAVE! ME! ALONE! and wear it until I feel like talking to people again.

I was looking for places to escape to and I found this hippie place somewhere or other that would give you a badge to wear that said something like "I am on a silent journey" or whatever but it was supposed to indicate that you weren't being rude to your fellow retreaters...you were just there to not talk.

And seriously, I found myself thinking that sounded awesome.

I neeeeeeeeeeeeed something to restore my peace and confidence and roll-with-it attitude.

2. Speaking of, my car was broken into last night.

WHOOOOOPIE!!!

Except I must not have locked the doors (sometimes I don't) because THANKFULLY, no glass was broken. I did have a box of dresses to mail back to wherever I bought them from (which I intended to do yesterday at lunch but I got distracted) and they took the dresses but left the box on my neighbor's front lawn. I figure the couple hundred bucks of lost dresses but the no-broken-glass are a wash...with the added bonus of not actually having to deal with the hassle of the broken glass.

So whatever. It's my fault. I shouldn't have left an empty Rubbermaid bin in the back seat over night. I can deal with it.

The other silver lining is that I've been meaning to get my car detailed but I've been dragging my feet. I'm glad the bad guy cooties are all over my already dirty car instead of a virgin clean car and this is now an excellent reason to GO DO THAT ALREADY.

So I don't care about the dresses. I am more annoyed that they stole my phone charger and mp3 jack cord thing and my (dirty, sweaty running) ear buds because now I have to go to the damn Apple store...and even MORE annoyed that they stole the directions to my grandmother's grave.

I had a ziploc bag with the directions, a tire pressure gauge and my St Christopher medal (Walkera, the one you gave me 100 years ago!) -- all holdouts from my last car's center console but since I don't have a center console anymore, I had these things bagged up and in the sunglass holder thing. Why bother taking any of that?

The directions are just a little map from the cemetary office where the lady highlighted the route to the grave and it's not a HUGE BIG DEAL or anything because they're easily replaced, but that's the thing that chaps my hide the most.

3. So yeah...that plus all the rest of blah blah blah I've had on my mind = I NEED TO GO SIT BY A POOL IN THE DESERT AND SWEAT IT OUT!

4. On the other hand, I have my first Stella & Dot trunk show booked!! And my "launch party" is this weekend!! And my nephew continues to be the most wonderful thing EVER!! And I've been KICKING ASS AND TAKING NAMES with Weight Watchers these days!!

And I'm lucky in a million ways.

(But a weekend in the desert would still make me feel good.)

My knees hurt, wah wah wah.

I usually pride myself on my bad ass tolerance for pain but there are some things that just RAIN ON MY FREAKING PARADE, like this newfangled knee pain I've been having.

OHHHHHHHHHHHH the aches.

The funny thing is that running doesn't hurt at all but bending my knee to set my parking break? Oh shit. That's not such an awesome time.

I have internet-diagnosed myself with this:

Chrondromalacia Patella

In layman's terms: Sucks for you, knees get old, too bad, so sad.

My boot camp coach suggested icing my knees, which seems in line with the internet doctor recommendations so I'm doing that PLUS I'm gonna try to take my running and exercising down a notch. No more boot camp (which I'm not crying any tears over -- I am NOT a fan of the Campbell classes) and instead of continuing to kick my own ass with the running business (which is less fun and empowering than it was over the summer), I'm going to start over and do the Couch to 5k thing.

In other exercisey news, I took my knees to my favorite train wreck of a step class on Saturday morning. The class is very complicated and LOUD and difficult to follow and people are alllllllllways leaving after like 10 minutes because it's not your standard 24 Hour step class. The teacher is a WHACKADOO though and you never know what the heck is gonna come out of her mouth so I partially go for the entertainment value.

Example: A couple years ago I brought a friend to the class and I was like "Okay, it's gonna be complicated and fast and totally over-the-top loud, but just stick with it and you'll survive." Halfway through the class some dude came in (not a 24 Hour staff member or anything...just some dude) and asked Polly (the teacher) to turn down the music and she LOST HER EVER-LOVING MIND.

"F-THIS, F-THAT, I'M NOT TURNING SHIT DOWN MOTHAFUCKA SCREW YOU I'M SICK OF THIS, I MAKE $100 AN HOUR AT MY DAY JOB I DON'T NEED THIS BULLSHIT I'M OUT OF HERE, BITCH!"

So she packed up all her stuff in a HUFF, all while continuing to tell us all the curse words she knew, and then she was gone.

Poof!

Except guess who didn't get fired over that display?

HER!

She's still around, still teaching a non-standard class that confuses the hell out of anyone who's not a regular, and still all at a decibel level that SURELY must be damaging my hearing.

So last Saturday rolls around and I decide that I'll go back to her class (for the first time in months) and it was the first real Saturday of the new year which meant that there were a bunch of newbies who had no idea what they were in for and of course, a few dropped out almost immediately. Two of them made the faux pas of not putting their equipment away so she started yelling at them as they left. They really should have put it away, but Polly screamed at them about leaving their stuff in the way and stormed over to pick it all up and then THREW IT AGAINST THE WALL.

Two step benches and the associated risers.

AGAINST THE WALL.

So, OF COURSE, they BOUNCED BACK AT HER so she KICKED everything back against the mirror, but they BOUNCED BACK AGAIN and it was COMICAL. And also wildly inappropriate.

Yet, I'm SURE she'll be back next week.

The best part is that Polly is a plumber in her non-psycho-aerobics-instructor life and she likes to tell everyone how much money she makes, how retarded customers are, how much money she makes (again), etc. She's also somewhat of a butta-face: Rockin' bod, BIG FAKE BOOBS, but hmmmmmmmmmm...not gonna win any beauty contests. (And she uses scrunchies to pull her hair back.)

Conveniently, my old friend Joanie's baby daddy is a plumber and a bunch of his friends are plumbers so I asked them if they knew a lady plumber named Polly and they all rolled their eyes and said YES AND OMG, SHE'S A BUTTA-FACE WITH THOSE BOOBS AND THAT TRUCKER MOUTH AND OH MAAAAAAAAN SHE'S A FREAK!

In summary:

1. My knees hurt.

2. I'm starting the Couch to 5k thing today.

3. My step teacher is a FRUIT LOOP with big, fake boobs and an unpleasant disposition.

Listen to me whine.

1. Okay so I have LOTS to report but there are a bunch of pictures from my last two weekends but I either don't have access to them (ATTENTION PERSON WITH THE PICTURES, I'M LOOKING AT YOU!) or I'm having difficulty getting my world wide web to work long enough to upload them, but that second problem is something I'll be tackling tonight because I REALLY want to tell you all about my weekendular activities. (PS, HO HO HO!)

2. In the meantime, OMG BURNING MAN PEOPLE LOOK WHAT YOU CAN GET FROM THE NIEMAN MARCUS CATALOG!!!!



Is that even, like, kosher? From the no-commercialism aspect of it all, I mean? But shoot, I guess I'd rather the rich burners spend $25k on one of those than fund $25k in free tickets for hippies who don't otherwise bother figuring out to pay for their own tickets and/or make grown up decisions about whether or not they can afford it.

YES, I AM A HATER.

3. When I get the pictures from last weekend uploaded I can tell you about how I fell down on a dirty North Beach sidewalk and how, at the time, I thought my only injury was the road rash on my knee but then yesterday I woke up and went OH MY!!! because oops, I hurt my foot too. AND THEN BECAUSE OMG MY LIFE IS SO HARD, I spent yesterday in bed resting my foot (and everything else) and now my eyeballs hurt, which I'm convinced is because I watched like 8 hours of movies on my laptop while in lounging positions with my eyeballs in wonky positions.

I'm sure of it.

To recap: My foot and my eyeballs are all need amputation. Except maybe only my left eyeball. And the foot, of course.

4. I hate these pants and I've spent all day trying to keep the diapery looking butt facing away from people.

5a. I have no idea what to get my future SIL for Christmas. Her bachelorette party is on Saturday though so I'll be listening hard for clues.

5b. A bachelorette party six days before Christmas? Yes. At Santana Row? Yes.

5c. Parking lot rage is almost a given.