7 Posts

Well shit. I have neglected you! BAD BLOGGER.

If I were slightly more important, I would have a guest blogger but I am not so ... meh.

Apologies Internet. Or more appropriately - the 3 people who check my blog.

All the excuses are lined up and ready to go. But you know them already don't you?

BUSY at work!

BUSY at life!

BUSY at not knowing what to write! Or worse, not even thinking about writing.

What is it about blogging (or writing for that matter) that immediately makes me think I can only do it when I am feeling "the funny"? Now my last post wasn't necessarily funny but more inspired - but still - do you only write when you're inspired?

Oh I got all deep there for a second. I know, weird right?!

But seriously, I have about 7 posts that have been started and never finished. Probably because it got late or someone looked over my shoulder at work or my client pissed me off. Or (and let's be real here) I got up to pee, talked to someone on my way out of the bathroom, checked my email, got pulled into a meeting, the client asked for something stupid and then ooooh LUNCH.

See? IT HAPPENS. Stop judging me.

But back to those 7 posts. They're...meh. Like the idea was there ... and then it wasn't. BLERG.

Or... I knew what I wanted to say but the writing sucked (please see current post). God that's annoying.

Here's my promise to you Internet - I will publish those 7 posts. Some of them finished, some of them not but they will go up there. You know, I should probably check back before I make this promise. But ... eff it. Also? It may be more or less than 7. See? I told you I should check.

Feel free to complain, praise or stay eerily silent.

On being 20

Totally stealing the idea of a letter to your 20-year old self from the Mighty Maggie Mason at the request of Cassie Boorn. I will be sending this to Cassie as well and she might publish it. Or not. It doesn't matter. Well it does but... well that's what self-publishing is all about.

Dear 20 y/o A* -

South Beach can wait. Read this first and then go enjoy a frozen cosmo.

Well you made some biggie decisions last year didn't you? Don't be afraid. Right or wrong, you decided well and it worked out for you.

Yeah you live at home now and it kinda sucks but chin up! You're banking some experience and cash. It pays off.

The parental situation: Listen, they could be so much worse. Yes, they spoil your brother and always will. But they are so, so proud of you. And if you turn out like your mom just a little bit, you'll be OK. Maybe they're a little worried about you; after all you ARE twenty and pretty hot.

On being hot: Please wear those white shorts more! They look amazing on you. It's Florida and your ass has never looked that great in a size 6.

On who you know: You've discovered the gays. And your gays? Those are lifetimers. Several will be your foundation for the next few years. Lean on them, they're not all sass and flair. Overall you are beginning to realize that some friends are lifetimers and others are seasonal shares - that's OK. A seasonal share is supposed to be fun, temporary and just a little crazy. Or a lot crazy.

On being crazy: You think you're crazy. Wrong.

Anxious? Yes. Type-A? Definitely. These things don't make you crazy. Trust me, you don't know from crazy yet. You will meet crazy but not BE crazy.

On boys: Enjoy the flirty kisses, silly conversations and all that attention you're getting. Yes, they like you. They want to see you naked. They're GUYS. You have boobs. It's all they know and frankly, want. Jump in and bask a little.

On YOU: Please use your voice. As much as possible. Your thoughts COUNT and you are so smart. Stop secretly thinking everyone out there is smarter than you, they just aren't afraid to be wrong. BE WRONG. IT'S OK.

Also? No one will ever care about your major. Ever. Study and finish it out. Oh, that statistics all-nighter works out just fine by the way. And you will NEVER need statistics or that report again. True story.

All that Miami-ness, the chusmeria around you? Soak it in. Your heritage, your affinity for the Cuban tongue (yeah, insert inevitable dirty joke here) is glorious. People will check with you for authentic Cuban restaurants so eat up all the platanos, palomilla and frijoles you can shove your face into. Don't forget those pastelitos either. Guava gets hard to come by later on.

Kiss your grandfather. Often. You're the best thing in his life.

Look , I am not going to sugarcoat or spoil it. You're going to make some missteps and wind up where you don't want to. It will all lead to the right place and the right person. Embrace the changes, accept your beauty and laugh out loud as often as you can.

Enjoy that cosmo. And don't be afraid to shake your ass a little more tonight - it burns some extra calories and helps my white shorts argument.

Love,

30-something A*

Overtime and Overdue

A couple weeks ago I got thrown some new business at work. Interesting and fairly exciting stuff offering me a world of opportunity.

Allegedly.

(We throw the word "opportunity" around quite a bit and it mostly means "shining up a turd JUST FOR YOU" so excuse me if I don't leap at all "opportunities.")

And while this meant exposure to be my charming and lovely self to potential clients AND the partners of the agency, it also meant that the 4 days I set aside to move from a large 3 BR home to a much smaller 2 BR town home became about a day and half of sorta-packing-while-checking-email-and-going-to-meetings. I worked through the weekend before the move leaving my husband to take care of the packing. I traveled to the prospects location a few hours away with the "importants" and sat next to my CEO at dinner AND breakfast while the hubs picked up my dad, who flew in to help us pack and move. I planned packing around meetings. I gave up the last two days completely to sit in the office and do NOTHING because they wanted someone "on the ground." Too bad I didn't land any flights that day.

So today I decided..."Fuck it. I am taking two days off." Only I'm now all... *whistle whistle* What should I do?

Right now I am getting my car serviced. Check.

Later I am going to make my own pickles. Check

Before later I am going for a run on my favorite trail. Check.

......

......

Now what? I have thousands of things on the "to do" only I kinda don't want to do them. For instance, my hoarding-lite husband has a garage full of STUFF and I want it gone. We also can't find our wedding albums so...I should probably find those. Our house needs to be cleaned. Clearly I don't feel like doing that. Sigh.

OK... impromptu list of random stuff:

1) People have stupid ring tones. Also, they ring forever and ever before the owner notices it's their phone.

2) I get really excited when I see people reading the crappy novel series that I love. I immediately want to walk over and totally ruin the whole series for them by telling them what happens. I manage to suppress the urge.

3) Do people still watch soap operas? Because just hearing the dialogue kills me.

4) Why is blogger telling me that "dialogue" isn't a word? Stupid blogger.

5) Ooooh mojitos would be good right now.

If it isn't mean, it isn't funny

True Story.

I am mean today. Every joke, every thought, every sentence. MEAN. And my mean can't just be snarktastic, it has to be funny. Extra cutting so as to make OTHER people laugh at you while I laugh at you. Laughing at you isn't enough. I need OTHERS to find hilarity in your stupidity. Such as the hit-or-miss fashionista sending out an email titled "HOMF 'maternity' leave." She's getting a tea cup Yorkie not an under-fed, impoverished orphan from the Philippines. What are you? The cankled Paris Hilton who lives in a fantasy world of importance? Seriously.

See? Now you're laughing and you don't even know her.

Mean accomplished.

Really Anthropologie? REALLY?

"Cutaway booties give a wink to the ankle boot, a nod to the sandal"

Don't know about you, but if I were an ankle boot or a sandal I would not let this...this THING play in my sandbox. Gosh that came out dirtier than expected didn't it?

It's almost like "Hey I want stumpy legs! What? Anthropologie can sell me ugly shoes for too much money to help with that? SIGN ME THE EFF UP."

Or as my pal Jewel says: "Perfect for those days when you need to make daisy chains and play hopscotch. We always did need high-heeled hula hoop shoes."

Fine. I am a curmudgeon.

At 29+ I find myself, surrounded by people who are fresh-faced, 20-somethings. Life's all bright and shiny and new. The recession, unemployment or HOLY SHIT BILLS have not yet taken a giant poop on their perfectly coiffed (you spent $300 on straightening?!?!) hair. I am not saying their stupid or shallow. Just ... TWENTY-SOMETHING. Most of them work hard, stay late and overindulge without a thought to calories. I did that once. We all did.

God that irks me now. Whatever. I am an Ensure away from calling them whippersnappers and shooing them away from my azaleas.

Occasionally one girl will come into work and my immediate thought is - "PANTS!" WEAR PANTS!" Tights are not pants people. Neither are sheer leggings.

What? I am judgy. The name of the site isn't "constantly joyous."

And why do they always want to go to dinner with 15 people? Seriously.

My max for group eating out is 6. Three facing three allows for good whole-table conversation or simple break out conversations. You only have to bug one person AT MOST to get up to pee. You can split two bottles of wine comfortably without paying through the nose or getting an inch of wine for $18. Bill calculation is far easier. Plus, your server is nicer & more attentive since your bill will be larger but your party is totally manageable. Everyone wins.

Also, there's a good chance that everyone at the table of 6 gets along and generally likes each other. MAYBE you can swing that with 8. But with 15? N-O.

Case in point: the lovely 20-somethings who want to "Do a girls dinner! Friday nite!" When I was approached I thought - why not? As a washed-up wife, hanging out with single girls can be fun. Especially when you come home to your sleeping husband and think I never have to do that dating bullshit again. Don't be fooled people. Marriage is knowing you will have sex even if you haven't shaved your legs in 2 weeks.

Then I got the email of "the plan." Fifteen people on the email (a few of whom I would not choose as a dining partner) for dinner at 8 so as to "not be in da clubs so early."

Sigh.

I declined after 20 more emails went out, one of which mentioned seeing some band at a sticky bar around midnight with some sort of cover charge. Instead, I am going to see a delicious one-year old toddler and her mom for free. Because I will be in bed by midnight or at least in my Target sweats watching What Not to Wear.

Now get away from my azaleas and help me find my glasses. My stories are on.

How Jillian Michaels makes Time Warner worth it

Time Warner Cable unplugged our cable on New Year's Eve for no reason.

Have you ever spent a whole day with no Internet, no TV - just staring at your significant other?

I do not recommend it.

TWC showed up the next day (New Year's Day) and the woman just said - "You're unplugged."

Us: "why?"

TWC: "Dunno. Someone must have called to cancel their cable and they thought it was you."

This means someone walked PAST OUR WINDOWS where the TV was CLEARLY ON and unplugged our cable without: a) asking if we were the right house or b) I don't know .... CHECKING THE ADDRESS ON THEIR STUPID FORM.

Assholes.

So I called and complained, they cut our rate. Blah Blah.

Now you're thinking - no shit, cable companies suck. What does Jillian have to do with this?

WELL...

Exercise on Demand. Channel 557. FREE EXERCISE VIDEOS. FREE JILLIAN.

Jillian who will nurture you and kick your ass at the same time. Jillian = new Marshall Applewhite. She's my Heaven's Gate. Only it more like - FUCK YOU JILLIAN I CAN'T DO MOUNTAIN CLIMBERS FOR TWO MINUTES ... gate. Whatever.

Her fantastic gems* include - "There is no modification for jumping jacks people. If a 400lb fatty can do jumping jacks then you can too. COME ON."

"YOUR SHOULDERS SHOULD BE ON FIRE RIGHT NOW!"

"You want to get shredded in 20 minutes YOU HAVE TO EARN IT. JUST DO IT."

*Paraphrasing was used within these quotes.

And you whimper, wipe snot from your nose and yell back at the TV - JILLIAN I AM ABOUT TO SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST YOU SKINNY BITCH.

Or maybe it's just me.

But then the cool down comes and she tells you how great you are and how she's proud and how you should be proud. And how it will all come together hot body, clear mind and healthy soul.

And even though you can't move, are bathed in sweat and are seriously considering calling into work dead by reason of insanity tomorrow you think - I totally have to do this shit again.

See? The power of Jillian TRUMPS the shittiness of Time Warner.