...and not a thing to wear

After completing a major clean-out on my closest, I ended up with so many bags of clothing to sell/give away that I am truly embarrassed. How can one person accumulate so many articles of clothing that for one reason or another are no longer wearable?

First there were the business suits from my former life as a banker that really don’t fit in at my current job. I’ve been here almost six years now- why were they still in my closet? Then comes the western wear from my brief stint as a cowgirl. This phase passed quickly, but left a surprising number of colored jeans and brightly patterned shirts in its wake. I also found a couple of pairs of boots that have not seen daylight in years.

This last weight gain wiped out most- or maybe all of the pants and jeans. And those size 5 Levis that I was saving- just in case- those are gone now, too.

Next was the culling of the special event clothing. Bridesmaid dresses, prom dresses, Christmas outfits- all gone. And as a side note, I have no idea where my wedding dress is. Kind of ironic that I have kept all this crap but can’t find something important.

And the shoes! Why was I keeping all of these? Some were still practically new- just victims of impulse buying, but then there were some that were just disgusting. They were dirty and crinkled and apparently I am part elf, because the toes are all turned up.

I even got rid of some of the stuff I was keeping for sentimental reasons. But I kept the really important things- like my cheerleading stuff and the sweater I was wearing the first night I met my husband.

And now that my closet is clean and spare and as organized as it has ever been- I can’t wait to go shopping and start filling it up again!

How old is your soul

This isn’t nearly as deep as the title might sound. My former boss has a theory that your soul has an age that is completely separate from your real age. He claims his soul is 23.
When he first told me this, I thought he was a weirdo. But after thinking about it, it kind of makes sense. For instance, I think I act and think younger than most people my age. Maybe I am just more naïve, more optimistic, more immature, whatever… I would guess my soul’s age to be in the early twenties. (Now if only my ass was still in it’s early twenties!!)
Does anyone else relate to this concept? Do you just “feel” a certain age?

Way too old for this

This weekend, we found ourselves in Branson and we decided to find something fun to do before returning home. As we drove past several theatres, go-kart tracks, balloon rides, etc., I would point to each and say- “We could do that.” But no. It was not until I pointed at the “EJECTION SEAT” ride that we finally pulled in.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with this, it is basically a giant sling-shot. They strap you in, pull the seat back and shoot you up into the air until the rubber band pulls tight, then it slings you back down toward the ground and you just bounce until it runs out of steam. After the initial launch, when I could start breathing again, I began laughing hysterically. I could not stop. I think it was one of those times where it’s either laugh or cry, so I laughed. I could not believe that we were doing something that stupid. It was not until we stopped and were left just sort of hanging there, that I started to freak out. I was ready to get off right then. Anyway, I lived through it, although I was pretty sure last night that I had seen my last sunrise. They really need to add another warning to rides like that, just below all the cautions about being pregnant or having heart or back trouble. There should be a line that says “If you are over 30, you SHOULD NOT ride this ride. Go back to your vehicle and drive to the nearest outlet mall.”

Random things

Things I found in my car while searching for my homework assignment:

1 empty bottle of Red Diamond Sweet Tea
2 Cardinals collector cups
1 eyeshadow compact
1 bra tucked in a Wal-Mart bag (had to make a quick change one day)
1 rain cover for my golf bag
3 pair sunglasses
3 CDs- Alan Jackson, Miranda Lambert, and Abba
2 hair clips
1 sheet of coupons from Krispy Kreme
1 set of iced tea spoons (just picked up at the post office today- my latest eBay purchase)
1 quarter
2 nickels
2 pennies

Random thoughts

1. I wonder if braces really will help cure my headaches.
2. I wonder why my dental assistant doesn’t see a need to blend her eyeshadow. It looks like she just smears it on in one motion and leaves it.
3. I wonder which planet will be axed next since they demoted Pluto. I’ve always been a bit concerned about Mercury- I mean it’s so small. Does it really deserve to be a planet?
4. I wonder if Kim is making fun of me as she reads this.
5. I wonder how Barnes & Noble can charge extra for 2-3 day “expedited” shipping, but then go on to say that it could be more like 5-6 days before you actually get your book.
6. I wonder where I will hang my diploma when I (hopefully) get it in May.
7. Never mind. It’s going right over my desk.
8. And I’m going to mail a copy to that rude girl at the bank.
9. Why do I always look forward to the start of a new semester, but as soon as it gets here, I can’t wait for it to be over?
10. How come, when I have something I really need to do, I can find so many other things I’d rather be doing? Like blogging??

Bath time

My sweet little cat, Twanger, has terribly sensitive skin. One bite from a flea, or whatever and he starts loosing fur. Unfortunately, he is also allergic to most flea and tick medications, like Advantage and Frontline. We found a spray that he tolerates pretty well, but I think that instead of killing the fleas, they just leave because the spray smells SO BAD. Recently, even the spray hasn’t worked and he is going bald from his tail up his back.
I haven’t seen any fleas on him or in the house, so I wasn’t really sure what to do. Since we are so limited on just what we can use on him, I finally gave up last night and washed the cat. This was a new experience for me. Usually, he just cleans himself as he sees fit and we all just call it good. So I wasn’t sure what to expect when I put him in the tub and started pouring water over him.
He was pretty good at first- just complained a little. I felt so sorry for him as he fought for traction on the slick tub floor and I couldn’t believe how skinny he looked with all of his hair slicked down. He got a bit louder as I lathered him up and when I went to rinse- that’s when all hell broke loose. Even though he could not get traction on the tub, he was somehow able to grab the shower curtain and had climbed halfway up before I could even react. He was still howling at the top of his lungs as he discovered that he was now stuck on the curtain.
It was quite a task getting him down from there and if you have ever had to loose a pissed-off, panicky, soaking wet cat from a shower curtain before, you know exactly what I am talking about. I tried to be gentle, but thanks to those claws, it quickly turned into a grab and toss.
I am still hopeful that he will forgive me and come out from under the couch soon.

More therapy

As pretty much everyone knows, I lost my brother earlier this year. I don't know how long this will last, but sometimes it is still really hard. The following does not reflect the state I am in now, just a place I have been before. I hope that by writing about it, it will lose some of its power.

The descent

Sometimes it sneaks up on me. Other times, I see it coming. There is a tiny voice that lives in my chest, just below my heart, that tells me I’m not good enough. I’m not smart enough, I’m not sophisticated enough, I’m too childish, I’m a bad person. The voice whispers that to me over and over and over, the words filling my chest and squeezing my lungs. I can feel the negativity creeping up each side of my neck, as the voice travels up to whisper in my ears. And I am forced to believe. The voice always has evidence for its claims. “Remember what you said…” “Remember what you did…”
And the color begins to drain from my life. Literally. I begin wearing less make-up. No eye shadow, no blush, no eyeliner. I don’t really do it intentionally, it just happens that way and I don’t notice it’s gone. It has been years since I’ve worn nail polish for any length of time. My clothing changes, my jewelry stays in the box, my hair goes up in a clip. And I pride myself that at least I still shower everyday.
I notice that the people I meet are not friendly and I wonder why they hate me. Do they know me? Do they know something about me? What have I done to them? And so, I try to avoid any contact with people. I don’t call my mom, I don’t call my friends. I dread each time the phone rings because I know the person on the other end will be able to tell how useless I am.
And the words in my chest continue to grow and gain strength. They swell until I can barely breathe and I am sure my heart will stop. And I wish it would. I wish I would just disappear. I see other people walking past me and I wonder if they know the hell I am going through and I hate them if they do. And I hate myself. I feel the weight of the words pulling me down, as if someone were pushing me down from above. I want to sleep. And sometimes I can. And even as I write this, I am afraid to tell exactly what happens for fear it will happen again.

Personal Code of Ethics

I had to do this for my ethics class. We had to refer to some theories, but I tried to edit those out

Personal Code of Ethics
I am a person like no other. I will do my best to be the person God created me to be. I will not live my life based on what I think others expect of me, but rather based on what I expect from myself. Although I am far from perfect, I will try to act in such a way that will make my family and my friends proud of me. They are a great source of strength and I will honor them while remaining true to myself.

I will not put on false airs or try to act like someone I’m not. I will present the genuine me. I will practice self-disclosure wisely, and err on the side of too much information. I will trust others until I am given reason to revoke that trust.

I will strive to be a contributing member of society, both professionally and personally. I value education and lifelong learning and will continue to expand my knowledge by attending classes. I also understand the value of work and feel that it is a necessary and constructive part of my life. I will continue to make myself more valuable to my employer by attending seminars and training and by doing my best for the company. I will also continue to seek the answers to the questions occurring in my naturally curious mind. I will lend myself to situations where I will not be monetarily compensated for my work, when it is for a worthwhile cause.

I will strive to help others see their own worth and potential. I believe that every person is on this earth for a reason and that I can learn something from each person I meet throughout my life. Just as each person can have an effect on me, I realize that my words and actions can affect others. I will strive to be courteous and to leave a positive impression on the people I meet. I will try to be pleasant even when the surrounding conditions are not. My situation will not define who I am.

I will share my knowledge and experiences with others who solicit it and with the younger members of my family who need to hear it. After sharing my point of view, I will not try to force anyone into an action that is not consistent with what they believe. I believe that people should think for themselves. I reserve the right to alter any of these viewpoints should I ever be blessed with children of my own. I will be a resource when possible and a sounding board for those in my realm of influence.

I will always try to look at the positive in any given situation and to help others see it too. I will try to be patient with people and try to remember that others may be facing difficult situations in their lives that may leave them overwhelmed and more inclined to be short tempered. I will try to surround myself with other positive people so that we may learn and grow together. I will limit my contact with those whose worldview is dark and pessimistic, lest it be contagious. I will remember that we are all here together and that it is up to each of us to make the best of our situation.

I will remember that laughter is the best medicine. I believe that any time humor can be used to make a situation easier or less stressful, it should be used. I will continue to laugh at myself and to encourage others to laugh with me. I do not mind a joke at my expense if it will help someone else feel more at ease with themselves.

I will be a good listener. I will keep myself open to other viewpoints, even if I disagree with them, for learning what I do not believe will help me define what I do believe. I will not betray the confidences of others and will be truthful with them. I will not expose myself to those whom I know will not give me the same respect and regard.

When faced with an unfamiliar situation with no obvious right or wrong, I will do what I believe a virtuous person would do in that situation. When possible, I will seek them out and ask for their advice. While I may not always make the right decision, I will always try to consider the options before choosing. I do not base my decisions on a categorical imperative, as I believe that few, if any, exist.

I will remember, “With God, all things are possible,” and that I won’t get very far without Him. I will be gracious for all gifts I have been given. I will remember that God wants the best for me, but it is up to me to find it. I will continue to try to do His will and to follow the road he would have me follow.

To Chi or not to Chi

Some of you may have noticed my new ‘do. For those of you who haven’t let me bring you up to speed; I’m sporting the one-inch bangs look. I had been considering getting some bangs cut for a while now, but I have been bang free for such a long time, that I hated to go back. Well, now that decision has been made thanks to my knock-off brand straightening iron. I knew everyone talked about using a Chi, but I thought that this was just snobbiness, so I bought a cheaper brand and it worked great. For a while. I should have known better than to buck the system.
Because of the humid weather lately, I decided that I should probably go with the “really hot” setting to keep my hair from poofing (think Monica on Friends when they went to Barbados.) I swear I never smelled burning hair, but after everything was done, I noticed that the ends on my hair were that tight, curly, frizzy way that hair gets when it has been singed. Then it started breaking off. After a kind of pitiful self-hack job, I called my hairdresser and begged him to fix what he could. He took the ends off my hair and tried to shape what bangs I had left. They weren’t too bad, I thought.
So, the next time I used the straigtener, I was more careful and turned the setting down to “pretty hot.” I started with my bangs, and you guessed it. This time I could smell the burning hair and I cringed as more of it broke off. Now, my bangs are about an inch long and stick straight up most of the time. But they were are a great conversation piece at the golf tourney on Sunday. I’ve never wanted to hit someone with a golf club so bad…

Golf, anyone?

So I bit the bullet and bought a set of golf clubs. I’m not a golfer, but I sometimes play one at work. It would be much cheaper for me to borrow a set, but I seem to have a gift for breaking or loosing things that don’t belong to me. And the courses don’t want people to share clubs, but I don’t see why it is that big of a deal. Can anyone help me out with that one?
Last Friday, I called around to some of the local pro shops, and I thought about doing my standard “fake like I know what I’m talking about routine,” but instead, I just laid it on the line for each of the sales people. I told them that I didn’t golf, but I wanted a decent set that the customers would not make fun of me for having. (They will have plenty of opportunities to make fun of my game.) I chose to buy from the place with the friendliest salesman- the one that didn’t make fun of me for not knowing what a “hybrid” was. So now I am the proud owner of my very own 18 piece set of women’s graphite-shaft golf clubs.
I should be practicing like mad, since the tournament is on the 16th, but I didn’t think to buy any balls or tees, so it will take another run to the store before I can actually do anything with the clubs. I feel kind of preppy carrying them around in the back of my car. And I am ready to play a round at the drop of a hat. As long as the other person brings the balls.

Life leftovers

My niece and nephews were down this weekend, and since having all three of them is a pretty rare occurrence, Mom decided that we should clean out their dad’s storage shed. Everything he owned has been packed away in a storage building for some time now. After we transported everything home, we started going through the boxes. It was really an eerie feeling. All his stuff was there piled all around us, but he was gone. I think of his life and all the things he accomplished, and all that is left is some furniture and a few boxes. There was clothing and cookware, tools and bedding. All the things that everyday life is made of. I wanted to get something to remind me of him. When he first died, we all focused on the kids and wanted them to take anything that might make things easier on them. This time, I was looking for something special to keep to remind me of him. But there was nothing there for me.

Answer me this

I decided to browse Yahoo Answers the other day. This is a really cool forum where anyone can ask a question and people from all over respond to it. I asked a question there a while back about what the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown did when the plane hit the Pentagon. Kim posed this question (along with about a million other questions) to me while we were in DC and noticed how close Arlington is to the Pentagon. The blast must have been deafening and I would have to think that the guard would have at least turned and looked. (To assess any threat to the Tomb, if nothing else.) Anyway, I got some good answers and some really dumb answers and one that was kind of mean, but I’m not any closer to knowing what really happened.

Anyway, back to browsing. One person asked the question: “Should I get a corset piercing?” Well, I had never even heard of this, but imagined it to be something like navel piercing. I did a quick search and came up with this link: http://www.snopes.com/photos/bodymods/corset.asp

As I read more about it, it turns out that this is kind of a one-time use thing. I guess you have it done before an “event” and take it out afterward. Hmmm…
Now I have a new question to ask: What the crap are these people thinking?

It’s personal problem time!

Why is it that when I wear sleeveless tops, my pits seem to smell worse than when I wear sleeves? It seems like it should be just the opposite. With sleeveless, they can breathe and I would think they would be much cooler. However, as I am sitting here, I can distinctly smell myself. Yes, I did shower this morning and yes, I am wearing deodorant. True, most of the deodorant is now clinging to my shirt in white crescents under each arm, but I’m sure some of it is still where it is supposed to be. It could be that it is Suave brand. (Everything in my bathroom is now Suave. It is part of being trailer trash.) But I have tried other brands with little success. My favorite was Secret Solid. This formed an almost waterproof layer on top of my skin. I say almost because every now and then, I would feel an actual drop of sweat fall from my pit, down my arm or down my side. And despite what you must be thinking by now, I am not a heavy sweater. If you have any suggestions, please leave me a comment.

Defining Moments

I’ve been listening to my Dr. Phil “Self Matters” CDs. I’ve tried listening to them before, but there is a lot of work to it. For instance, he wants me to choose my ten “defining moments.” These are supposed to be moments that left huge imprints one the rest of my life. I think I’ve finally got it narrowed down to ten events, including my grandmother’s stroke, my first fistfight, and the time the crazy old man helped my boyfriend and me get unstuck from his ditch by pointing his gun at us.
Isn’t it amazing how events like these shape people’s lives? I wonder if I’ve ever been part of other people’s defining moments.
Anyway, I think the next step is choosing your five most influential people or something like that. So if you would like to be included on that list, please send jewelry, cheesecake or cash to my house.

BTW-
Kim is turning 30 this week. I’m sure she is doing her best to prepare herself to join the legions of us who are merely existing; too old to have any fun, too young to die. My dear Kim, if you think childbirth is hard on a body, wait until you see what thirty has in store. It is not pretty.

Random Thoughts

To take a page from Miss Timber, here are my thoughts right now:

1. Is it wrong to raise a baby in a trailer?
2. How in the hell is my mom going to fit all her stuff into that tiny little house?
3. Why would anyone name their child “Candy” unless they secretly hope she will grow up to be a stripper?
4. If I were a stripper, my stage name would be Sasha.
5. I wonder if I should tell Kim that the ivy she gave me has died a slow, crispy death.
6. The gardenia Andy gave me died, too.
7. Maybe now is not a good time to think about having a baby.
8. I hate it when my co-workers don't get along.
9. I wonder how my hair will turn out when I get it colored on Saturday.
10. I wonder if blondes really do have more fun.
11. If I could have any career, right now I would work in animal assisted therapy with geriatric patients.
12. I wonder how much money animal assisted therapists make.
13. And do you have to supply your own dog, or do they give you one?
14. I don’t think my dogs would make good therapists.
15. My dogs would put people into therapy.
16. Hmm, that sounds like a money making idea…
17. My sweater has/had a hole in the armpit and I just stapled it closed.
18. I hope I don’t sweat and rust the staples.
19. I wonder if anyone ever has gotten tetanus from being poked by a rusty staple in their armpit.
20. I don’t think I have ever had a tetanus shot.
21. Do you think Fiber Salesmen will have a priority on getting the bird flu vaccine?


Actually these were my thoughts from yesterday, but since Blogger wasn't working, they can be my thoughts today. Whew! What a load off my mind. Now I don't have to think about anything today.

Enough About Me, How Are YOU?

Last Tuesday, about noon, I climbed into my trusty van and made a run for the border. Not literally of course, but I hit the local Taco Bell. I don’t particularly love the food there, but with the limited number of eating establishments, sometimes it is better than eating at Sonic again.
Anyway, I pull up to the speaker at the drive-thru, set to give my standard order of one Chicken Gordita Supreme, an order of Nachos, and a medium Dr. Pepper, when the voice from the speaker comes on. It doesn’t thank me for choosing Taco Bell or even ask for my order. Instead, it asks: “How are you?”
This completely throws me off. I was ready to spit out my order, but now they changed the question and I have to totally regroup. Should I tell her about waking up late and coming to work without brushing my teeth? Would she be interested in knowing that for some reason I have cramps even though I am no where near “that time?” I’m at a loss. What kind of answer do they really expect to get? And who are they to think that of all the fast food chains, they can go out and change the format of a drive-thru order? I’m sure they are violating some kind of inter-restaurant regulation.
When I eat at Taco Bell, there are a few things that are always true:
1. I’m in a hurry.
2. I’m broke.
3. I’m hungry.
And I think that’s pretty much all they need to know. Can I have my Gordita now?

Casual Shopping

Travel is expensive. That’s all there is to it. Kim and I are getting ready to embark on a four day, three night journey to our nation’s capital.
We’re meeting up with Amy in DC. She’s been our advisor on what to pack for the trip, although her advice so far has been a bit disappointing. She keeps telling us to dress casual- t-shirts, fleece jackets and tennis shoes. So, you are probably thinking, “Well, that seems easy enough. I already have all that.”Well, you would be wrong. First, you have to consider that you just MAY run into W. And I would not want that to happen while I am sporting my old, sweat-stained Reebok t-shirt. The same goes for George S and any other political hotties that might be strolling around DC at the same time we are. No, for them, we had to get brand new, not stained t-shirts- with matching jackets, capris, jeans, and flip flops. (Love these shoes, Kim!) And a couple of sweatshirts just in case. We didn’t get EVERYTHING we need for the trip, but I really like what we did get. And there’s still a little time left so I can get some more camo and Kim can get some more pink- I just hope we have a little money left to spend in DC.

The best way to die

Before all this happened, a co-worker and I had a big discussion about whether it was better to loose someone in a long, drawn out death- the benefit being that you know the death is coming and you have time to prepare yourself, wrap up all those loose ends, and say all those things that need said; or if it’s better to loose someone all at once. To have them ripped away quickly, like a band-aid.
He decided that he wants to know when a death is coming, and as soon in advance as possible. So if you are planning anything, please let him know! I, on the other hand, decided it was better for a person to be taken by surprise. No long illness, no painful injury, just one day they’re gone. Well, now I’m really getting to think about that. So far, I am still staying with my quick, but far from painless, departure.
One thing I have decided is: I don’t want to die in my sleep. I want to die doing something completely moronic. Something that people will read about and think- “Hmm, yeah. She really should have known better.”
I want to go crashing through to the other side like someone running through a sliding glass door. I want my dying thought to be, “I really thought this would work. It looked so easy when they did it in that cartoon.”

This blue shirt

This blue shirt. I will never wear this blue shirt again. You know how you have those favorite articles of clothing? I had my Lucky Friday Panties that I wore every Friday, religiously, until they were completely obscene and I would have been completely mortified if I had ever been in an accident wearing them. But they were my LUCKY Friday panties, so of course, that would have never happened, but I ended up tossing them anyway. I guess what I am saying is that when good things happen while you are wearing something, you give that piece of clothing a little bit of the credit.
And so, I hate this blue shirt. I came home from the store and my mom’s face was pale and blotchy. She told me sit on the couch. I sat, bracing myself for the news that my grandmother had passed. It was a bit of a shock because the last news I heard, she was doing better. Then my mother blurted the words “Jimmy’s dead.” And I was wearing this blue shirt. And I hate it.