What the Duck

My power went out about midnight last night. When I left for work this morning, it still wasn't back on. (that's right - try putting on eyeliner and concealer in the glow of eight flickering tea lights...)

And, while I couldn't turn my TV on at 2:30 am, I realized I didn't need it. It turns out there was an episode of Cops playing right outside my bedroom window!

I had finally fallen back asleep after a good hour of laying in bed worrying about my lack of electricity. And, my lack of white noise thanks to my fan... Then, I was ripped out of my sweet, silent slumber by yells. Yes, someone was yelling. Outside. In a thunderstorm. Yelling loud enough that I could hear him over the actual thunder. OMG.

I had to investigate! I peered out my rain-covered window to witness a young man walking down the road in only jeans, a t-shirt and a red flannel shirt. Rain jacket - what's that? And, as he was walking, he was yelling. It sounded something like this: (*words changed for the conservative and holy...)

What the duck!!!!!! What the duck is happening!?!?!?! Duck this!!!!! What the duck!!!!

Seriously? A crazy man screaming bloody murder in the middle of an apartment complex in a thunder and lightening storm in the middle of the night?? Awesome!

Then the cops showed up. "Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do!?" One of my neighbors must have been more annoyed than intrigued by this young man's antics... The cops shut him up, calmed him down and made a big production with their flashy lights and neon rain slickers. And, then, they must have told him it was time to go home.

Because, before I knew it, there was a young woman in a parka with a fur lined hood (seriously, fur in a thunderstorm?) standing in the road, ready to escort her man home. And, she came prepared. With a garbage can lid. As they couple walked back to their building, I saw her sheilding her man from the torrential rain with the lid. You know, so he wouldn't get wet....

Um, did I mention he'd be out YELLING in the RAIN for over thirty minutes?!?! What the duck.

Obviously, idiots are attracted to idiots.

Hoosier 4 Life.

I watched this video a few days ago. It made me laugh. And, it brought tears to my eyes because I long for Bloomington. When I was an undergrad, I had student season tickets every. single. year. I loved going to games!! (I won't even mention my heathen of a little sister who has only gone to a handful of games. One of them I took her to when she was in high school. No school spirit, I tell ya! Oh wait... I just mentioned it. Oh well!) And, there are countless stories surrounding my friends and me going to games. (...like the time the cops drove me and Emily home from Assembly Hall....) Heck, when I was on Homecoming Court, I was asked what my biggest regret from my fours years at IU was. My response: "I regret I've never been given the chance to run with the flags at the eight minute timeout." True story! (And I STILL didn't get to run with them!)

Now, I have a confession. This Hoosier gal that bleeds Cream and Crimson is going to a Purdue basketball game this weekend. And, I'm not even taking an easy ride up 65 to see the game in Lafayette. Nope! I'm driving across the country to go to the game. SIX HOURS IN THE CAR TO GO TO A PURDUE GAME!!! OH!! MY!! GAWD!! I just keep telling myself it's just a fun weekend roadtrip with an athletic event thrown in for shit and giggles. And, there is no way in heck I'm wearing gold and black.

Hoo-Hoo-Hoo- HOOSIERS!!!

ouch.

A couple times a month, I mentor a group of kids who are Juniors at an "urban" high school in town. They're incredibly bright. Incredibly awesome. And, make me feel incredibly old. Case in point - below is a conversation between me and two of my mentees, D & K.

K: Dude, that show "How I Met Your Mother" is tight!
D: You know that guy who's, like, the "player" on that show? He's gay!
K: Yeah! I know!
Me: Oh, you mean Neil Patrick Harris?!
K: Yeah - that's him.
Me: Remember when he was on Doogie Howser?!?
D & K: **blank stares**

There's a whole generation that has never seen Doogie Howser M.D. And, I just tried to relate to them. FML.

Dating Tales of the Under- & Un- Employed

I've been meaning to write this post for quite some time.... In fact, I think it's been building for years now.

We're all attracted to a certain "type" of person. I tend to like either really big guys with great smiles or really cut guys with a good sense of humor. I've dated them all. But, I'm beginning to realize that we attract certain types to us. The type who I seem to attract like a magnet? The ones without a stable job. I'm not wanting to sound like a shallow girl looking for her sugar daddy. I just need to describe how I dated a string of guys who either didn't work or didn't have a stable job.

There was the guy who held four different jobs while I dated him. Talk about a roller coaster.

There was the "financial planner" who couldn't build a client list and was constantly on "probation" by corporate. Last I heard, he was forced to move to the city where corporate headquarters is located and endure nine months of intensive training. (Sidenote: I have no idea if he finished his training. Nor do I care. He's a cheatin' asshole.)

There was the teacher who wasn't really a teacher. He was paid hourly - when school was in session. Which means he did not receive a paycheck during summer break. And, he constantly lamented about how broke he was. Pretty sure his good looks and boyish charm were some of the only reasons we lasted as long as we did (a summer. go figure.).

There was the guy I met in a bar. He was trained in laying tile. But... he was working a seasonal job as a landscaper for his buddy. Days it rained? He didn't work. Weeks without rain? No work as there were no lawns to be mowed.

My favorite under-/un- employed story comes from a guy I only went on one date with. We met online. He said he was a doctor on his profile. I meet him for a coffee. Turns out, he's an anesthesiologist. Scratch that - an unemployed anesthesiologist. He had quit his job.... to find himself.

I can only imagine the thoughts running through my mom's head every time I told her about a new guy I was dating:
Me: "Mom, I'm dating this new guy and he's great! So much fun to hang out with!"
Mom: "That's great, honey! I'm glad you're having fun. So, what does he do for a living?"

I would reply very enthusiastically about whatever oddball job the guy of the moment was holding down. I'm always the optimist... I'm sure she was rolling her eyes on the other end of the phone. Actually, it was my mom who brought to my attention the string of guys I'd dated who didn't really have a job. She even asked, "Honey, do you put 'have a big heart for those on hard times' in your dating profile?" Ha!

Thanks, Mom! Honestly - I needed that realization! And, I promise - I'm working on it.

Disclaimer: I'm in a great relationship with a great guy. And, he really likes his job. And, he's good at what he does. :)

Online.

Let's face it. We're an online world. And, I'm no stranger to all that is the internet.

I check my email ALL. THE. TIME. online.

I post Facebook statuses frequently online.

I buy most of my gifts online.

I bank online. (Today, I bought some stock online.)

I search for recipes online.

I search for coupons online.

Heck, I even found my boyfriend online! (thanks, eharmony.com!)

Today, I tried something new. I signed up for Weight Watchers online. I have about fifteen pounds I'd like to lose. If I can get some encouragement via the web (and for a nominal fee), well then, I'll take it! Here's to counting points in 2011!

(P.S. - It's only the first day and already my cravings for some cheese are ridiculous. I'm a cheese addict.)
(P.P.S. - I stayed BELOW my points limit for the day!)

Rocky Mountain High

I was driving West tonight. It was dark. The clouds were hanging low. They were illuminated from behind by the sun that had already left my little place in the world. And, my eyes tricked my mind into thinking there was a mountain range in front of me. Cue goosebumps. And, this feeling of content from deep within my heart.

I have always been enchanted by them. Mountains. Maybe that's where my soul needs to be. And my body needs to follow. But, how do I get there? What am I willing to give up in order to feel that kind of contentedness more often?

Bigfoot

As I drove down Fall Creek this morning, this hunk of metal and rubber greeted my on the side of the road, waving an American flag. I couldn't help but smile - and laugh out loud! You don't see stuff this memorable EVERY day. Thank goodness I pass the state fairgrounds on my drive in...

Bus Stops

I started working Downtown almost four years ago. And, while I love it, there is one part of working Downtown that I still find uncomfortable. The bus stops. They're big, crowded, noisy, dirty, smokey. Ugh.

So, when I walk to meetings, I will cross streets based on which route will take me past the least amount of bus stops. It may take a few extra footsteps, but it eases my bus stop anxiety. However, today, I had no choice but to walk through a bus stop. And, not just any bus stop, one of the biggest ones in town - it's a block long!!

Here's what I encountered as I walked on through the big ol' bus stop:
- Small child ran into me
- Almost tripped on some guy's bike
- Smelled somebody smoking weed
- Had to side step (onto a grate!) for a group of boys wearing their shorts below their butts. I guess that whole "ladies first" rule doesn't apply at bus stops
- Had a girl ash her cigarette on my shoe!!! (she didn't even notice...)

OMFG! Really? I finally figured out why I don't like the bus stops - they're oozing with rudeness! (and smoke!)

I'm back to taking the long way....

Fetus Fun

So, a friend of mine is pregnant. It's very exciting! And, she signed up to get those weekly emails that tell her what size the baby (a.k.a the fetus) is as she progresses through the pregnancy. Typically, these emails will compare the fetus to some time of produce. Your baby is the size of a walnut! Your baby is the size of an apple! Your baby is the size of a seedless watermelon! Ahh technology....

Anywho, a couple weeks ago, she received her email, opened it up, read the produce comparison and just didn't know what to think. Because it said... "Your baby is the size of an English hothouse cucumber!" WTH?!?

Of course - we had to Google an English hothouse cucumber. Basically, it's an extra long cucumber (roughly 14 inches). I'm shocked by this. I really thought babies, at six months in, would be... well, rounder! And, of course, I had to mention this to my mom. In all her "Mom" wisdom, she explains to me that babies grow in length first, and put on weight towards the end.

Fine. But, nature creeps me out. I all of a sudden begin thinking that my friend is pregnant with one of those creepy creatures that lived outside Ursula's lair in The Little Mermaid. I know this isn't true, but still!!!

Fast forward to the evening, when I'm popping by the grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner. I'm grabbing some tomatoes when I see..... (on sale of course!)..... hothouse cumbers! Extra long cucumbers in! the! flesh! Yes, I bought one. There was no way I was going to pass up the chance to show my friend a real, live cucumber!

Except, I couldn't just bring a cucumber to show her. So, I took some time to give it some personality...

Yes. I dressed the cucumber up as a baby. And it was awesome!!

Why I Could Join the Army

Basic Training.

Less sit-ups and long runs? More yoga and pilates? If it wasn't for the guns, I could do this! (commence your snickering now)

New York Times Article Here

where do I start?

Alright, I'm going to put it all on the table. This summer has been no "summer of love" in my book. Far from it.

First, it began with my ex letting me know he was getting engaged - just two months after he said he still loved me and asked if I was sure I didn't want to be with him. (I was sure.) While I didn't feel any real loss, it was a crushing blow. He was moving forward and I wasn't. [Side note: Someone in his family reached out to me asking if I had any pictures I could pass along for his wedding slide show. WTH?]

Second, I found out I was cheated on. Not with one other girl. Not with two other girls. But, with at least THREE other girls. That's right, I had been dating a male slut and was oblivious to it.

Last, but definitely not least, I was driving home from work one Tuesday to meet my seemingly sweet, seemingly caring boyfriend who had been in my life for a bit. And, that's when he completely blindsided me and dumped me. On. The. Phone! And, without an actual reason. Actually, he had a reason: "I think we're both awesome. I just don't think we're awesome together." Who knew I had been living an episode of Saved by the Bell this whole time?!?!

I can only hope that bad things really do come in threes and that I'm done having my heart broken for awhile. (huge, huge, huge amounts of hope!) I also hope that I'm done picking assholes to date. I mean it. Damn!

Here's to a new season. And, to the cocktails that have helped to numb the pain this summer.

Good riddance, douche bags.

they are the reason I smile

I'd be lying if I didn't say it was a tough week. A VERY tough week that involved a lot of tears, self-reflection and uncomfortable feelings. But, this week also allowed me to see how lucky I am. Especially for the amazing women I have in my life.

My mom. Who answered the phone when I called at midnight and calmed me down. And, encouraged me to make tea while I talked to her.

My sister. Who showed up in Indy, in all her bohemian glory, and laughed with me in a queit, sunlit cafe. And then we went shoe shopping!

My friends. The friends that show up with cookies and sprinkle cuss words into the conversation when needed. The friends who can spend lazy afternoons simply laughing and telling stories. The friends whose pictures line my mantle. Our lives exist together in this weird kind of connectivity - the connectivity only girl friends can have.

This picture is a perfect example of this friendship. Laughing and loving each others company. (photo courtesy of Miss Darcie Lane)


I'm blessed. I know it.

Welcome back.

Hurting, hurting.
Looking for the silver lining.
Vision crowded by my emotions.
What did I do wrong?
What is my flaw? My flaws?
Wishing for the pain to numb.
Wishing for sleep.
Wishing someone was here to hold me.
Wishing for things that aren't here. That I can't fix.
Hurting, hurting.
Back to "this place" again.

Welcome back.

There's Your Sign!

I just rode up in the elevator with two adorable old guys. They reminded me of a much nicer version of these two lovelies from the Muppets.



On the elevator ride up, they were discussing what each of them had bought for lunch (we were all coming from the Bistro....). One guy had soup and a banana. The other gentleman had soup, a "tiny tuna sandwich" (his descriptor words, not mine) and some jello. So stinkin' cute. But.... what's the common denominator with these foods? They're all soft. smushy. easy to eat.

Bless their hearts. And their "old man" teeth.

Common Denominator in Hatred

I've never met a single person who likes Canadian Geese. Not a one. (If you're that rare fella who does, PLEASE share with the world why you do...)

One of my favorite bloggers, MooshInIndy, wrote a post about the Canadian Geese that are currently messing up her peaceful world.

Her post has inspired me to share an email that I received from my mom earlier this week. But, before hilarity ensues, let me give you a little background:

My parents live on a lake (a lake that just happens to be the last to freeze in the area and is therefore a mecca for all things Canadian Geese), and my mom's mission for the past several years has been to keep the geese out of her yard, and most importantly, her flower beds. She claims she loves nature, but she loves her garden more. I don't blame her - the geese that live on their lake are OBNOXIOUS.

For Mother's Day a couple years ago, my brother got her some "equipment" to assist her in scaring the geese. Note: she doesn't want to kill them (it's illegal!), she just wants to scare them so they jump back into the lake and out of her yard. It's also turned out to be a great way for her to get some aggression out... fyi.

Anywho, my brother and I received the following email this week. I really hope a neighbor saw this... (and took pictures!)

Subject:
No more BB gun!

Body:

I've put the bb rifle in the garage for good. In my continuing war against the geese in the yard, I wounded (didn't kill!) one.

I thought I just popped it in the butt, but it started flailing around in the water. It's mate and one baby started making all this ruckus as did the other pair and their 10 babies. I watched for as long as I could, hoping it was just stunned and would recover.

It wasn't looking good and I didn't want it to drown - I'd already seen that once before and felt awful - so I decided to rescue it. I put on Evan's big yellow rain overalls and got in the lake. I started wading out to the wounded goose and it's trying to get away and sticking out its big tongue at me. Then, it's mate came charging across the lake at me with its wings spread out and hissing. There was a lot of flailing around at this point by me and the geese! I tried to throw a towel over it but it just threw it off.

I finally lifted it up and got it up in the yard (hope you see the irony in this) and it flopped around a bit and went and hid under the grill. BTW - the lake is freezing!

I called the animal hospital but she said they didn't treat adult geese. I asked what to do and she said to give it food like you'd feed farm animals. Uh, I don't have any. So, I crushed up some crackers and got out some fresh spinich and put it in a bowl.

Right now the big thing is under the lilacs, but it is up and walking so maybe I did just stun it.

If it's gone by the time Dad gets home, I'm not going to say a word about it. If it's still there, I guess I'll have to fess up.

I could never be a real hunter.

Love you both,

Mom
xoxoxoxox

Ohmigosh, I love that woman!

(PS - The goose is fine. It was just stunned. Once it came to its senses, it waddled back into the lake...)

Moving On

This past Saturday, two guys I used to date proposed to their girlfriends. One guy I dated casually. I'll call him D.D.L.E. The other was a lot more serious. I'll call him H.B.F. I witnessed one of the engagements on tv of all places. I'm really, really happy for him. The other one? He told me about it (via text!) before he proposed. He wanted me to be the first to know. Awkward? Yes. Am I overjoyed? Not really. More like overcome with odd emotions.

But, we all deserve the chance to move on. HBF especially. And, me too.

A Girl's Life

The Current Contents of My Work Bag:
- 2010 Agenda (my life!!!)
- Folder with important papers
- Pens
- Nail File
- Allergy Medicine
- Spanx
- Black patent flats
- Coupon Book
- Granola Bar

It's no longer a work bag. It's a female survival bag!!!

Lord Give Me Strength

I've been dating a guy on and off for a little over a year. And, I've had my suspicions... I should have trusted my gut. Last night, I met "he who shall not be named"'s girlfriend. Ouch. It was hard to hear. What was harder was having to tell her that her boyfriend has been unfaithful. For over a year. Ouch.

I feel completely taken advantage of. Horrible. Pissed about it. Shitty. Hurt.

However, this quote came through my inbox today:

“What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.” ― Ralph Waldo Emerson

I'm strong to the core. This is just another one of life's speed bumps. And, I feel good knowing that karma is a bitch...

Disney Princess....Mean Girls

A friend sent this smart lil' clip to me. The Disney Princesses (Cinderella 4-eva!) acting as the main characters from Mean Girls. Huh-larious!!!

Formal Desires

Right now, I can count three formal events on my calendar for 2010. And, due to the nature of the events, I think I can get away with the same gown for each event (obviously accessorized differently! duh!). Besides, doing this will save me some serious cash, which I need right now.

So, I popped into Macy's on my way home from pilates today to see if they had what I was looking for. I walked in the store and start heading for the dress department. But, guess where I ended up? (Mom - Seriously. Take a second and guess. You'll probably get it right...) The coat department! Full of lovely coats with..... 75% off signs looking like glowing stars above them. I really think I heard angels singing as I happened upon this beautiful sight!

Quick backstory: I love outerwear. Pea coats. Dress coats. Puffy coats. Jackets. Fleeces. Scarves. Hats. Mittens. Etc. (gawsh - this is actually a POSITIVE to me living in Indiana!!! Hooray!!!) And, I'm drawn to them like a fly to a light.

Couple that with a sale and you probably already know the end to this story: I have a gorgeous, cream, Kenneth Cole coat hanging in my closet. And, I got it for a steal!

The dress? Well, their selection sucked. Which gave me even more reason to buy a coat tonight. I'll go dress shopping later...