Wednesday, August 15, 2012

no pictures, please

Apparently, my dumb ass (is that one word or two?) computer will not let me post pictures to my blog. It's a real shame...not only did I have some amazing pics to post, but some great stories to go with said pictures. I would take a picture of the screen so you could see what I mean, but that's a mute point now. I asked Heather and she said there should be an icon underneath the publish part...mine has none. It says Compose, HTML, a drop down box for the font...you get the point. NO icon to upload pictures. I tried to use an ipad to do it, and of course the little icon was on there when I logged on, but I wasn't able to upload any pics. Maybe this is what I get for all the do-overs I take when a camera pokes it's wicked lense at me.










Hopefully, I will be able to post a picture someday and attach it to this post. Then, I can refer to the top paragraph as a "side-note".









My best friend, Lee, is an amazing photographer. He has the most creative point of view one could ever imagine. He takes pictures of everything....buildings, babies, adults, families...you get the idea. He even took an amazing picture of a brown bear pulling a salmon from the water in Alaska...see, this is where a picture would be helpful. You HAVE to see his work to understand. One night, we were hanging out and he got the camera out to take some candid pictures of me (which I love, btw). There was one picture that I absolutely fell in love with...mind you I had zero make up on, my hair was a mess and my clothes...well, I was comfortable as always.





















INSERT PICTURE HERE















I'm not going to talk about all the great pictures I have of myself, but there are a few...and by few, I mean several...quite possibly hundreds. But this picture did something for me, and here's why:









At that very moment in time, I can see myself at 40. I'm practically there. I'm 20+ pounds overweight. My boobs are too big and my hair is a constant mess. My laugh lines are growing deeper by the minute. The worry line that looks like a butt in the middle of my forehead is starting to show even when I'm not worrying. But my eyes...they remind me of who I was and who I've become with each passing year. I've fought damn hard for that stupid butt in my forehead and I've laughed till gasping for breath and peeing at the same time. I have scars that tell stories and marks that tell tales. I'm right HERE...and that, my friends, makes me beautiful.

interviews and such

I’ve applied for so many jobs in the last three months; each time thinking this is the one…I’m going to get it, at the very least an interview. It’s kind of like if I buy a lottery ticket. I purchase the ticket and walk out so full of pride thinking, “I got this, this IS the winning ticket.” Only to wake up the next morning to find out I didn’t have a single cotton pickin’ number. The same thing applies for the scratch-offs. My mom usually buys each of us ten or twenty dollars worth in scratch off tickets every year at Christmas, each year I am always the one who doesn’t win a thing. It’s not about luck either; those things are scientifically proven to produce winners [sic]. It’s like I’m never even going to get an interview because I can’t even win on a scratch off lottery ticket. There’s a valid point in that, ya’ll.




So with this entire job searching fiasco, I’m often reminded of my first job interview. I was a young one, all of 22 years old. I had a job interview in June, this is easy for me to remember because it was as hot as shit outside. I decided to look my best, so I scoured my 51 year old mom’s closet for the finest suit I could find…or something presentable since my closet consisted of khakis that were too short and sweater vests (I had no idea back then what a cameltoe was, but I’m 99% certain I had one in those khakis). I found a nice suit for the occasion at the front of the closet. It was a navy and white skirt with a double breasted blazer type combo. The white part of the suit cut off just below my boobs, from the top down…the rest was navy. I’m not sure why all this is important, but you have to get a mental picture. The top part even had faux pockets, a trend very popular in the finest of clothes in the 90’s. I’m sure my mom wore this suit to church on more than one occasion. Did I mention the skirt length rested below the knee? It was very appropriate for a job interview or for a menonite girl to wear during the week. I was going to nail this interview because of this outfit, I just knew it. I finished off the look with some navy flats and beige no non-sense pantyhose. To think I could have invented Spanx back then and I wouldn’t have to be worried about a stupid interview, job or lottery ticket right now. I definitely missed the boat on that one. Damn you, Sarah whatever your name is…I should be swimming in a pile of millions right now, not you (after further research, her name is Sara Blakely and she invented Spanx when she was 27 years old). I would definitely keep my jewelry to a minimum as not to take away from the brass buttons on the blazer/top/shirt…whatever you call the damn thing.



The day had come for the interview. I woke up early, showered and made my big, curly, fuzzy hair look great by adding a big pick comb style headband. A few extra inches of hair on the side where it was pushed out looked good, or so I thought. You know the kind of headband…the one that is like a comb, but flexible and in a circle…I will try to find a picture of one and post. After I dressed, I pulled out the box from Pic’n’Pay containing my shiny, new navy blue flats. Left foot, good. Right foot, uh oh….why does this feel so weird. I started screaming for my mom, I tended to be a little dramatic back in the day, and she flew around the corner just in time to look down and see that I had TWO LEFT NAVY FLATS!!! Two left shoes! She giggled, I wanted to throw up. It didn’t even look right when I sat with my legs crossed, at first I thought I could pull it off and no one would notice. I was forced to drive my white Geo Metro in one size too small navy flats that belonged to my mother. For the love of SAM 'n' LIBBY, how did I make it this far in life and why hasn't adult protective services been called on me yet.  I curse the day Pic’n’Pay entered my life.



So with this story, I hope an interview for a job is around the corner. I will go to that interview and charm the pants of the interviewees. I will answer standard questions with various answers such as: communication (what is the most important aspect of a job place?), empathy (my greatest strength and my greatest weakness), and thank you (we will get back to you). I will do all of this in my Target black pants, Coach belt, Gap shirt and Chico’s blazer. More importantly, I will be wearing a right shoe and a left shoe that are both size 8 1/2.



Monday, July 30, 2012

Love/Hate Volume 2

Round two of  "Things I Love, Things I Hate"...

Things I love:

-Democrats
-bacon
-my Kindle (it's almost replaced my blackberry)
-700 thread count sheets
-eating blueberries straight from the bushes
-my friends, duh
-gracious people
-lavender

Things I don't like (I decided that "hate" is too strong of a word to use, but I'm too lazy to change the title):

-Fox News on tv when I'm in the dentist office...actually, Fox News on tv anytime
-sweating
-summer clothes (coincides with the previous dislike)
-my droopy boobs
-hairballs (from the cat, not mine)
-calenders and/or schedules
-Old Navy flip flops...they hurt my feet, guess that's what you get when you pay $2.50 for shoes
-pollution