Small Happy November 19, 2009

A house. A car. A 401k. A white picket fence. 2.5 children. A “worthwhile and fulfilling career.” A designer bag. A vacation fund. Organic groceries. Furniture that matches. A bi weekly manicure and on time hair appointments.  A patio. A marriage. A wedding. A nursery. A before baby, before college, before gravity body.

Big Happy. Big, impossible, happy lies in the collection of these things. It’s hard not to get sucked into the list of things we self-impose on ourselves. This check list of happiness for our lives. Every check mark brings with it a momentary pleasure and then a void. What next? What can we concentrate on now? What do we set our sights on? What goals can we strive to achieve?

And while I want a good number of the things on that list, I don’t think I want that happy. I want Small Happy. Healthy happy. I want warm bath on a cool night happy. I want “novel you sink into” happy. I want warm cookies, baby laughter, fresh lilacs happy. I want money to pay the bills and keep me in six dollar wine happy. I want matinee movie happy. I want one expensive dinner a year with The Boy happy. I want I don’t hate my job and I get my weekends off happy. I want christmas newsletters about little league games and ballet recitals happy.

I want library card happy.

I want small, quiet, happy.

And to be content with it.

We’re All Wild & Crazy Kids, Just Like Omar Gooding November 17, 2009

Someone seriously needs to convince me that a handful of cookies is not an adequate meal because I just dubbed it “lunch.”

Sometimes I don’t think my brain works correctly. I’ll see the one unflattering photo of me in the twenty or so the photographer sent from our engagement shoot (Yes! They’re in! Yay!)  and immediately I’m all, “OHEMGEE GROSS! I AM NEVER EATING AGAIN. EVER. MUST SPEND EVERY WAKING HOUR ON A TREADMILL.” And then I eat four chocolate chip cookies. You’d think my irrational outbursts would have a slightly longer staying power. Like, maybe a full minute.

I might get more done, albeit irrational crazy things, but still.

Do you ever get those urges to do something completely crazy and out of your comfort zone? Dangerous, dark shrouded things? Stupidly exciting, might-even-kill-you things?

Sometimes I get those urges. I’ll be walking by a tattoo parlor and, even though I hate needles, and tatoos, I’ll have the urge to go in and pick a design at random. Or I’ll be standing by the edge of a tall building or cliff and just for a split second, desperately want to jump. Sometimes I have to bring rationality back to the forefront and remind myself that, yes, I could buy a plane ticket to Guam, but what the hell would I do when I get there?

Though, I guess, the last  wild and crazy thing I did was decide to travel six hundred miles to visit a man I met at a hotel in Montreal. And  that worked out pretty well.

 

What wild and crazy thing have you done lately?

 

 

 

 

Wedding Woes November 9, 2009

Michelle posted recently about the constant “buzz” of wedding planning that exists in her head.

Well, girl, let me just say “WORD.”

I didn’t get it before I was engaged. I didn’t. I don’t think I could have. It’s just one of those things that you just don’t understand before you enter the tulle covered, bedazzled, tiara-ed world of The Bride. Where I once remember being puzzled over “bride diets” (because, really? why try and makeover your body for a party?) now I admit one of the biggest spurs in my side pushing me to the produce aisle and the gym is that white dress hanging in my bridal salon’s “Received” area. {Side note, my dress is in!!! Squee!! I’m making plans for a first fitting in January!!}

Before I spent my free time blogging, or reading, or learning stuff, or making “Shaba Loves Me” t-shirts for a few Very Important People. Now, if I have a few moments of free time I spend it looking at wedding porn. StyleMePretty, a Practical Wedding, The Brides Guide. I spend hours  staring at West Coast brides who always seem to have way better luck at thrift stores than I ever do. I spend hours looking for “things” for my wedding. I have lists upon lists of “things” to do,  “things” to research, “things” to try and “things” to buy. And after every tiny check I put on my ever-expanding task list I feel a little more defeated. Because it never really turns out the way I imagined.

I’m terrified that my wedding, the vision I’ve had since April and have worked on peice by peice like a little bird building a nest, will become passe before it has taken place. I’m afraid that my handiwork, my vendors, and my wedding won’t be the “wedding blog worthy” wedding I imagine it to be. I’m afraid that my non-theme theme of Stuff I’ve Always Liked That Just Happens To Be Trendy Right Now will become a snore, trendy and “So Last Season” by the time June 12th rolls around. And I know it shouldn’t matter. I know I should just do whatever the hell I want because I CAN. And it’s MY (our, really) Day Dammit. And I will. I just wish I knew it would all turn out the way it looks in my head, I wish I had an insurance policy for the beauty and fun quotient of my wedding. Dear Flo From Progressive, can we get a quote on that?

I just want it to live up to the image I have in my head.

And though I know, I KNOW it’ll be fine and wonderful and The Best Day ever because at the end of the night I’ll be married….I can’t seem to shut up the little wedding ‘zilla inside my head.

So, tell me something good.

And don’t use the word “wedding.”

 

Pot Stashed In Strollers, Beer Pong, and Women Trying To Steal My Fiance November 2, 2009

That was, in short, my Halloween night.

Let’s start at the beginning. In the last few months The Boy and I have made decent friends out of our across the street neighbors and the neighbors behind them. This week they informed us that another couple in the neighborhood was throwing a Halloween party and that we should all check it out. So, late Saturday night The Boy and I, dressed as ourselves at prom, and our neighbor friends, dressed as themselves from the day before, trot across a few lawns and arrive at a garage party the policed department could only dream of.

The hostess of the party was very nice and offered us some jello shots and burgers that we graciously turned down due to our fear of dysentery and strange meat products. She spent a good portion of the night bouncing someone else’s squishy baby on her lap. We later found out that the parents of the squishy baby were two class act inviduals who not only partook in some illegal substances but were actually the providers of said herbs. The baby daddy popped open the little compartment on the top of the stroller and took out a bag of weed and a bong. I remember distinctly tugging on The Boy’s arm and making him watch as this 19 year old father of an 8 month old carefully resealed his bag and put his drugs back into his son’s stroller. Evening thinking about it now, I have no words. !!!?@#? is all that comes to mind.

Anycrazypeoplespawning, The Boy and I took on a pair of women in Beer Pong, where I did exceptionally well and could have won us the game if FianceFace could have sunk a ball in a damn cup. Competitive much? In all honesty he did well, especially considering he was about five drinks ahead of me. I just did better than expected, I am notoriously bad at beer pong. However, our best was not good enough and we had to ensue teasing and smack talk from the women who won.

One of these women came up and started chatting with us a little later, and after learning that my future husband is A) smart, B) employed C) a high wage earner and D) has good taste in jewelry informed me that if she wanted my man, she could have him.  To which I giggled nervously because I’m a sheltered white girl and I had no idea what remarks would be appropriate and what would get my ass beaten by a 5′3 black girl. Later that night she started dancing up on me and mentioned that her boobs were better than mine, to which I take offense because though I know the rest of me needs some work, my girls are PERFECT.  And her’s were rather floppy.

And according to my fiance I had “the best butt at the party.”

Which, of course, means I win. Take that homegirl.

How was your Halloween lovers?

Things to Be Happy About October 13, 2009

• trading body wash for dove bar soap
• free week trial gym memberships
• crisp air and bright purple sunrises
• homemade perogies your fiance claims to be “the best thing you’ve ever made”
• pumpkin flavored drinks that won’t put you in the poorhouse.
• sleepytime tea in over sized mugs
• the softness of newly cut hair
• excel files named “wedding addresses”
• long gray granny sweater weather
• cuddly fiances that double as foot warmers
• apple cider, unpasteurized.
• Anne of Green Gables, for the umpteenth time
• podcasts instead of television
• yankee candles on the stove
• dishwashers
• handwritten letters from far away friends
• cooing over puppies and kittens on a daily basis
• an excuse to buy a new outfit
• kissing

Have a Molehill? Need a Mountain? I’m Your Girl. October 12, 2009

Every so often I get all out of whack.

I get unhappy to a point where any little thing can plunge me into the “depths of despair”* or the “mean reds” if you’re a devoted Golighty fan.

I start to feel like a toddler. All I want to do is play with my toys and the big mean world has informed me that it’s dinner time. And it doesn’t matter that I like what’s on the menu; I’m going to stomp my feet and cry because I JUS’ DON’T WANNA.

What bothers me the most is that I can feel myself becoming unrational and crazy. I can predict that if The Boy pinches me playfully one more effing time I’ll snap on him. And yet, I can’t seem to do anything to stop it.  And what’s worse is that after I’m pushed over the edge, after I’ve succeeded in making us both miserable…I feel better.

Misery loves company? Perhaps.

Or maybe I’m just a closeted drama queen? I don’t know. What I do know is that everything will be going fine, better than fine, exceptionally well even, and then I’ll decide that Something Is Missing or Something Is Wrong or I Just Want to Be Miserable and that’s when I stir the coals.

Usually it’s little things. Little day to day infractions that get pushed aside until I’m settled into this brooding period. Then they pop up, like dandelions in my relationship’s lush green yard (I am aware this is a horrible simile, but I refuse to remove it). And then I can’t stop focusing on them. I hyperanalyze and over think, I begin a downward spiral because the inflection on a sentence came off as overly critical and soon I’m convincing myself that long-time love isn’t in my cards. “It’d be ok, really,” I tell myself, “You could become a nomad and be ‘Crazy Aunt Shaba with The Cats,’ it’s not so bad.”

Then I remember that cats are not all that into travel.
And that, really, 99% of the time I’m ridiculously happy.

And I apologize to my fiance.
And he tells me to look at the tv, which of course, has a big scary whale on it.
And I cringe, but know I deserve it.
And within a few hours things go back to normal.
And I fall asleep cuddled next to him.
And things go back to normal.
And have the most gorgeous sleep of my life.
And things go back to normal.

* ten points if you know what classic literary character uttered that dramatic phrase.

This Post Is About Oatmeal, No Seriously, It is. September 22, 2009

I used to be an oatmeal junkie.

In high school I ate it every school day, especially in the winter when I was shooting competitively and attempting to be consistent to an inhuman level. I love it. It’s warm and filling and oh so easy to do bleary eyed at an ungodly hour of the morning.

I’m a Quaker girl, through and through. Even though I’ve heard Lady O-to-the-Prah harp on the miracle of steel cut oats for years now and I’m sure they’re better for me and everything; I am a sucker for the healthy in a hurry convience of Quaker’s just add water preportioned yumness. I’m partial to the  peaches and cream flavor. Yum. Freeze dried fruit.

But my favorite flavor is Vanilla Cinnamon from the Nutrition for Women line.

Which is, unfortunately, no longer sold in stores ANYWHERE.

When it started to become scarce on the shelves my mom and I bought up all remaining boxes in our area. I’ve been rationing it ever since, treating the little packets like gold and threatening anyone who gets to close to my stash to back the eff off my oatmeal.

It is that good.

And now I’m running low. I’m talking a measly six packets or so left. And I’m starting to get antsy. I’ve done the research online. Apparently Quaker still makes it, they’ve moved it to their regular line and called it plain old “Vanilla Cinnamon,” but the Internetz agrees with me that this must be a horrible horrible lie because try to find the stuff on shelves and you’d think you were looking for the holy grail.

And so, after reading that some lucky souls have found it on shelves of stores that exist miles and miles from here I’m about to embark on a area wide search for oatmeal.

I may not return victorious.

I may not return at all.

And if I am successful I will rejoice in the splendor of wonderous oatmeal akin to the magesty of Clear Pepsi.

And if I fail, I swear to god I will cry a little tear over my last packet.

And if you’ve read this far in a post about breakfast I will give you medal. Or a cookie. Whichever you’d prefer.

Thirty Four Things For A Tuesday September 17, 2009

1. I’ve come to realize that my chest-size…is perfect for my body. My boobs are one of my favorite parts of me.

2. I’ve come to realize that my job(s)…are not what defines my life. They are a means to yet another end.

3. I’ve come to realize that when I’m driving…I discover more about myself than I do at any other time and I tend not to listen to my music as much as I probably should. All self evaluation and no singing makes Jane crazy-pants.

4. I’ve come to realize that I need…to get back into a routine I love. Including weekly yoga. And vitamins (which, btw, have done nothing for my nails.)

5. I’ve come to realize that I have lost…the person I was a few years ago. And I’m not sure how I feel about that. I’ve also lost my ear phones. Again.

6. I’ve come to realize that I hate it when…I can’t vocalize what I want/need. And when The Boy doesn’t read my mind and do what I’ve OBVIOUSLY been telepathicly telling him to do for the last three days. The nerve…

7. I’ve come to realize that if I’m drunk…I’m happy and silly and goofy and will undoubtedly feel less so the next morning.

8. I’ve come to realize that money…is a renewable resource, so don’t worry.

9. I’ve come to realize that certain people…talk just to talk and not to listen. I talking to you Crazy Newly Married Co-Worker.

10. I’ve come to realize that I’ll always…live inside my head, at least a little bit.

11. I’ve come to realize that my sibling(s)…are becoming human beings. And pretty decent ones at that.

12. I’ve come to realize that my cell phone…is better left untouched for a few hours at a time.

13. I’ve come to realize that when I woke up this morning…I wasn’t tired. And it was 6:00am. Apparently that’s a good time for me?

14. I’ve come to realize that last night before I went to sleep…a good make out session can mend a bad day.

15. I’ve come to realize that right now I am thinking…I’m in a good place.

16. I’ve come to realize that when I get on Facebook…it’s more to stalk semi-friends and acquaintances than to actually connect with people I miss and adore. Which needs to change.

17. I’ve come to realize that today…is sort of my Friday, woot.

18. I’ve come to realize that tonight…is ravoli night. Glorious deliciousness.

19. I’ve come to realize that tomorrow….my house will get cleaned, my clothes will get washed, and my world will feel a little more right again.

20. I’ve come to realize that I really want to…get back into a routine. A routine that includes yoga and regular blogging.

22. I’ve come to realize that love…isn’t easy. But the pay off is awesome.

23. I’ve come to realize that this past weekend…I was cranky and mean. Again. For no real reason.

24. I’ve realized the best music to listen to when I am upset…is something that makes me more upset, strangely.

25. I’ve come to realize that my friends…are gems. And I’m lucky to have them.

26. I’ve come to realize that this year…is going to be a exciting, bumpy, and thrilling ride.

28. I’ve come to realize that maybe I should…pick up the phone more.

29. I’ve come to realize that I love…having my days packed full. I get grumpy without a purpose.

30. I’ve come to realize that I don’t understand…how we go through iced tea so fast. I’m making a whole jug a day.

31. I’ve come to realize my past…is extremely important to me.

32. I’ve come to realize that parties…thrill me, from the planning stages to the clean up. (Ok, maybe not the clean up)

33. I’ve come to realize that I’m totally terrified…of getting stuck in a “comfortable” job beneath my education level. Of choosing the wrong option. Of never feeling content.

34. I’ve come to realize that my life…will never be a carbon copy of someone else’s no matter how much I attempt to emulate them. And that’s a good thing.

 

What have you realized lately?

Even Bratz Dolls Have A Passion…..For Fashion September 15, 2009

I have a confession. I am extremely jealous of people who know what they want to do with their life. I truly think that those individuals who haven’t changed their career paths since middle school are the lucky ones. Having such unwavering conviction in oneself is commendable, and certainly a lot less stressful than the 20-something quarter life crisis the rest of us face. And I’m not just talking about those people who have been on the course to MD’s or law degrees since seventh grade. I’m also jealous of those weirdos I keep seeing on Oprah or CNN who committed to their life’s passion and made a career out of it. The fact that they have identified their passion, in something, whether it be beekeeping or cupcakes, frustrates me out of raging jealousy.

It seems like I keep hearing about people who have transformed their careers and totally upgraded their quality of life by doing what they love. Then this article from Zen Habits popped up in my reader….

Five things you can do to move toward getting paid to do what you love:

Find your passion. This is all about your great love, and what makes you come alive. To get started here, ask: “What am I insanely interested in?” “What could I talk about for hours?” and “What would I do for free?”

Find your strengths. What we’re looking for are things you’re naturally good at, and the unique strengths you’ve had since birth. This is about contributing your gifts to the world. To get started, interview your friends, family, or peers and ask them what three things you’re naturally talented at.

Find your value. Finding the intersection between what you’re good at and what people are willing to pay you for is what it all boils down to. If you can’t find a way to get paid to do what you love, the other stuff doesn’t really matter. So it’s worth spending some time figuring this out. To get started, think about the benefits you’ll give others by contributing your value. Think about whether or not there is a desperate pain or a deep passion involved in what you’re offering.

Make the commitment. I think, more than any other reason, people fail to succeed is because they fail to commit. Thinking “I don’t know” or “maybe someday” will not get you to the point of doing what you’re passionate about for a living. It takes an uncompromising commitment to make this change for yourself. Instead of thinking “I don’t know,” think “I’ll figure it out.” Remember, paths are made by walking.

Be willing to let go. As much as you might want to make this change for yourself, it can be hard to let go of the old patterns of thinking and behaving. A lot of us have ideas that “work shouldn’t be fun” or “you should just suck it up.” Breaking down those beliefs can be difficult, but moving toward a new direction is most definitely worth it.

What will you give up? You might not think that you have time to take on a new endeavor, and you’re right. You won’t have time until you make the time. There are a lot of things we place in our schedules that we think we must do. But in reality, our world wouldn’t collapse if we chose something else. Make a list of all the activities and time sinks that you’ll give up in order to make time for your new journey

Will you say Yes to yourself? You may want to become a writer, dentist, life coach, painter, or public speaker. If you know that this is what you’re meant to do, then give yourself permission to call yourself that… even if you’re not established yet. And even if you don’t make a full time income from it. Own your passion, completely and unreservedly.

The article is spot on. I do believe people with a passion for what they’re doing will never “work” a day in their life. They may have hours of frustration or unsavory red tape to cut through, but they won’t spend their days looking at the clock tick. I’d love to set these steps into motion, to find out what I really wanted to do and just do it, but I can’t seem to get started.

My problem is I can’t get past step one. I don’t know what my “passion” is.

So I did what anyone would do.

I jumped to step two and asked Facebook what three things I’m naturally talented at.

My answers were: writing, baking, shooting, diving, gymnastics, wedding planning, and The Boy taming.

So, any good ideas as to how I can meld all these Natural Talents into something career worthy?

Preferably something outside the realm of a circus act, though I’m sure a Fiance taming, wedding dress clad acrobatic combination shooting/ high dive act would totally drive in the crowds…..

Especially if I promised them all home made oreos.

Wedding Do’s and Don’t September 10, 2009

I’ve decided after reading Katelin blog post today about her wedding do’s (and her previous wedding don’ts) this gloomy Thursday could do with a little wedding talk.

I had intended on writing a post about my new job and my new coworker who nonchalantly told me she met her lawyer boyfriend at her night job as an exotic dancer. But then I realized it’d probably be pretty boring because “OMG I WORK WITH A STRIPPER AND I’M INTRIGUED AND WANT TO INTERVIEW HER ABOUT FEMINISM AND HER LAWYER BOYFRIEND AND I’VE LIVED A SHELTERED LIFE WHERE “NIGHT JOB” IMPLIES  “JANITOR”  SO THIS IS A BIGGER DEAL TO ME THAN IT PROBABLY IS TO ANYONE ELSE” is about all I have to say about it.

While we’re on the topic of Janitors (go with it) The Boy and I watched “Glee” last night along with the rest of the internet and guess what? It wasn’t even my idea. I was resigned to watching the results show of Tuesday’s Worst Ever Semi Final  America’s Got Talent episode when The Boy flipped on Glee and suggested we watch. He’s full of surprises.

Anywho, my wedding dos and don’ts:

Do’s

• A Decent Photographer- This was my one big condition. I wanted a photographer who would give me exactly what I wanted for a reasonable amount. I could have easily, easily spent upwards of 5,000 on our wedding photography and done so happily because the photographic proof is that important to me. I feel like after the photos are our only real “souvenirs” of the day. They’re something we’ll have forever and even though I’ve heard couples say they don’t even look at their photos years later, I know I will have them up all over our house.  I think I hit the jackpot with our photographer who came highly recommended, gave me everything I wanted, and still costs a fraction of what the majority are charging.
• Good Food- This is for everyone else. People remember very little about the details of a wedding. I went to three weddings over the course of a year and I still categorize them by food. If the food is really good, the guests will be happy. We’re having carving stations, pasta, potatoes,  ice cream and pie. I expect people will be happy.
• People- One of the things that makes me happy about our wedding is that everyone on our guest list is someone we really hope to see attend. Keeping our guest list to approximately 100 people makes it possible for us to be a little discriminating but still have everyone we really want there in attendance. And, our wedding party will be awesome. I am so, so happy we decided to stick to our guns and go with 5 each. I can’t imagine a better group.
• Outsourcing as much as possible-Our wedding will be inexpensive as far as weddings go. I’m guestimating we’ll be well under $10,000 thanks to our budget savvy ways. Utilizing the skills and talents and generosity of our friends and family on things such as music, flowers, cinematography, invitations and favors allows people special to us to be involved in our day and keeps our costs and stressors low.
• Photobooths- Everyone likes them. It’s a fact. I want to have one at our wedding but whether it’s a DIY job or a real booth will depend on how much moola we feel like parting with closer to our wedding date.

Don’ts

• Obnoxious dj’s. Outside of bad food I think this is the area where any party has the most possible to go down hill fast. If the DJ sucks you’ll know about it, and often you’ll know about it too late. I don’t want to do the chicken dance, thank you very much. Nor do I want to do anything with “Slide” in the title.  Doing our own music makes sure this doesn’t happen.
• Outrageously expensive paper products. I love the look of letter press. It’s very pretty and very nice to feel and also very expensive. Spending two grand on invitations that everyone will throw away after our wedding? No, thank you.  To me, to us,  and for our budget that just doesn’t make sense.
• Ugly bridesmaids dresses. I don’t really understand the idea behind picking bridesmaid dresses for your maids. I’m not a stylist. I don’t know what you look good in. I don’t know what you feel comfortable in. And for a bridesmaid I think those are the two most important factors -looking good and being comfortable.

Happy Thursday!