Banned

The following word and all of its many variants should be banned:

CHILLAX.

Anyone who uses it should be punished with a swift kick in the ass and banished to the Nevada desert so they may chillax together.

That is all.

So far, so good

Okay, so I'm about 1.3 days into my little cleanse, and so far, so good. This should surprise no one, because if you can't stick with something like this for 1.3 days, you're pretty much hopeless.

I digress. I tried a recipe last night - quinoa with sweet potatoes and black beans (and other stuff too, but those are the main ingredients). It was pretty tasty. I also found a gluten-free cereal that's decent, since I rarely have time to cook oatmeal in the AM.

This morning, I've had a soy sausage, 3/4 cup of my gluten-free cereal with soy milk, and decaf tea with a tiny bit of splenda. Lunch is the quinoa stuff leftover and a soy yogurt with blueberries. Tonight will likely be the quinoa again (it makes a lot and I'm a believer in leftovers) along with some steamed broccoli... but what to put on the broccoli? No butter allowed. Maybe Olive Oil?

I promise this blog won't be all about food from now on. It's easy to write about and I'm busy.

On another note, my 6th wedding anniversary is this weekend. That's six years. The first half of our marriage was spent with me in law school, so it's hard sometimes for me to count those years. They were such a blur and I really didn't get to spend that much time with my husband. It's really only been these last three years where we've felt married, if that makes sense. I think we're going to the mountains for a night. It should be fun... of course, as always, what am I going to eat when we go out?

I'm afraid my cleanse might be cramping my anniversary.

It's 3:00, and I'm hungry. Again.

So this 21 day cleanse is going to be something. I was starving by the time lunch rolled around at noon. This clearly means that I did not eat enough for breakfast. Will change that tomorrow. After I ran my errands, I went to the grocery and picked up Lundberg Rice Chips (delicious BTW, and will taste good in salsa or guac), an Amy's Organic gluten-free and dairy-free meal, and a soy yogurt. After eating about 15 chips, the meal and the yogurt at 1:00, I'm starting to feel hungry again.

I clearly hadn't given protein it's due.

I somehow think that the point of this whole thing isn't to replace tortilla chips with rice crisps, though it's definitely an improvement. I also hate eating frozen meals, but I didn't have time to make soup yesterday. Maybe tonight.

Tonight for dinner I'm making quinoa with sweet potatoes and black beans. It sounds good. I hope.

On the bandwagon

I'm kind of faddish when it comes to food. Though I really don't have any kind of weight problem, I still wish I were more athletic or leaner. Yes, I know what I have to do to get that way. My problem is that regular, intense exercise is difficult for me to maintain. Call it laziness, call it life, but at the end of the day, my schedule just doesn't allow for it to be in my top five priorities.

Anyway, I've been giving thought lately to trying something called the 21 Day Cleanse designed by Kathy something-or-the-other. Oh god, it's an Oprah thing and the fact that I'm even admitting to doing this makes me feel like the most obedient little sheep in the pasture. I've given this some thought of a four or five day period. Should I? Do I want to? Am I committed to this?

The idea is simple. For 21 days, you give up the following:
1. Sugar (added sugar, not those found in fruits);
2. Caffeine;
3. Alcohol;
4. All animal products; and
5. Gluten.

The hardest for me will be the alcohol and gluten. I drink wine a lot, probably a glass a day. I have one cup of coffee a day, and while it's a habit, I don't think it's an addiction. The gluten thing will be hard, because while I can do without animal products, I usually substitute bread or some other wheat-based grain. Not this time.

Anyway, I intend to post my progress, for better or worse. I decided to start today. For breakfast, I had decaf tea, a soy sausage patty, a cherry LARA bar and five almonds. It's 11:00 am, and I'm hungry. No headache yet from the lack of coffee, so that's good.

The idea behind this is surely better health, but also to be more conscious of what you eat. This is particularly true in regards to animal products. In the US, so many of the animal products we consume contain chemicals and by-products. Our cows eat corn feed, and cows are supposed to eat grass. Our chickens eat other chickens... and that just seems wrong. Our pigs eat, god, I don't even want to know, but I feel confident its probably not great for us.

I long ago cut mammal meats from my diet. I've been eating just poultry and seafood for years now. Those will be a little tough to give up, as will eggs. But it's only three weeks.

Right?

REALLY? Why do you keep calling me and other dumbassery

325-282-9898, who are you and why do you keep calling me? I pick up my cell phone and an automated voice prattles on in Spanish. I don't know Spanish, and I have no idea why you think my number is connected to someone who speaks Spanish. I know you're some sort of telemarketer, but I have no idea what you're selling. I wish you would quit calling, but I hear from you one every two days. Please cease and desist on the harrassment.

Same with you, 702-520-1447. I've now received approximately 11 "2nd and Final Notifications" that my car warranty is about to expire. I don't even HAVE a warranty on my car anymore. I never did, because I bought it used. REALLY?

One rant down, one to go. Let's talk about the girls at Gloucester High in Massachusetts who made a pregnancy pact. Seventeen girls at that high school are pregnant, and many of them got that way because they made a pact with other friends to have babies and raise them together. How very commune-ish of them. REALLY?

Unfortunately, these little harlots got grown ass men involved. See, they went out and solicited men for sex, including A HOMELESS MAN, and probably looked a hell of a lot older than 15 when they did so. Can you say jailbait? So now, I bet some of these dudes are going to end up as registered sex offenders because some dumbass 15-year old who told him she was 19 lured him to have sex with her. Further, she probably lied about being on birth control so she could have a little bundle of joy that would "love her unconditionally."

I wish someone would give me just 10 minutes alone in a room with one of these pieces of jailbait. The tongue lashing I would dish out would make her face turn hot with shame at the remembrance of it for the rest of her natural born life. Seriously, what the fuck were these girls thinking? Are they the biggest, DUMBEST idiots on the face of this planet? They've essentially ruined their own life, the baby daddy's life (to criminal consequences for some) and perhaps even the life of their spawn.

It's nice to have the support of your other pregnant 15-year old girlfriends, but you know what? Those bitches aren't going to pay the bills or rock YOUR baby to sleep when it wakes you up at 3:42 am. No, ma'am. Do you know how hard it's going to be to get a guy to date you now? To get a guy to marry you? When you've entrapped a guy before and now have this little "bundle of joy" (aka "albatross") that will go everywhere with you?

Talk about ruining your life before it even began.

That's not to say that some teen moms don't turn their lives into something great. Some do, but many more don't. The Italian's cousin got pregnant as a 19-year old freshman in college. All these years later, she's a 37-year old attorney with an 18-year old son and a brand new baby from her marriage. She's lucky... but then again, her parents raised her son 3/4 of the time so she could go to college and law school. She was LUCKY.

Many of these girls will not be so lucky. I haven't even gone into what their actions have done to their parents, both financially and emotionally. I can't, because this post would be four pages long.

The Gloucester pregnancy pact. Nomination (and lead contender) for the dumbassery of the year award.

Blah, blah, blah

Blah, blah, blah. That's what all these loan documents I'm working on sound like. It's almost 5:30, and while any self-respecting lawyer should work until 7:00pm, I'm outtie in a few minutes. Who said I had any self-respect anyway? It's overrated.

Funny story I've never told on the 'ol blog. A few months ago, the Italian and I were just settling down to dinner in the living room (no, we don't eat proper meals at the table), had turned on the 7:30 showing of Scrubs, and were tucking in to that night's meal. A minute into our munching, we hear a cacophony of muffled, horrific cat screeches. The Italian and I look at one another, puzzled. Instantly, we put it together - cat, outside, another cat, attack.

The Italian jumps up and heads for the door. Halfway there, he turns around and looks at me, frozen. I look at him and plead "DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO."

Do what you have to do?! WTF?! Is he supposed to pick up the other cat by the tail and swing it around? Or maybe stab it with his dinner knife? Where did I pick up that dramatic, soap opera-esque phrase?

Do what you have to do, indeed. Turns out all he "had" to do was open the door. Stupid cats.

Fucking Wrong

Tim Russert's death is just wrong, wrong, wrong. Fucking wrong. It's rare in this world to find someone with such depth, intellect and composure, especially when that person is a journalist. He cannot be replaced and the world has lost a great political mind. He had the ability to make a politician answer - and REALLY answer - tough questions. He was one of the few, if not the only, journalist who could do that.

I heard someone describe his death at this point in his life as "cruel." Cruel because his family had just celebrated his son's college graduation, cruel because Sunday is father's day, and cruel because he died during one of the most crucial presidential races in this history of the United States.

Cruel indeed.

Medical Examiners like boobs too

My day-to-day existence as a real estate attorney is fairly mundane. Once upon a time, though, I wanted to be a criminal attorney. To that end, I did a clinic in law school with a DA's office in a large metropolitan county. While I'm not sure I could do that for a living, the gig provided me with no end of interesting stories.

I worked with Mike* (named changed to protect the innocent), an Assistant DA with four years experience who was awesome at his job. He and I got along really well and he was a great mentor. Mike tried mostly murder cases by the time I arrived at the office, and his cases tended to be gory, horrifying and thrilling all at the same time.

There was a case where a 23-year old girl was killed by her ex-boyfriend. He'd disposed of her in a lake, and, when finally found a couple of days later, she had some discolorations on her skin that made it difficult to discern the fatal injury from post-mortem decomposition. In order to prepare for trial, Mike had to meet with the Medical Examiner.

This meeting happened while I was in the office. Mike asked me to join in and I jumped at the chance. I'd never met a real-life M.E. before. I had the mental image of a wry, brainy woman, like Dr. G or the M.E. on Law & Order. At the worst, I pictured the wise-cracking guy from CSI. Nothing could have prepared me for the Medical Examiner I met.

I was introduced to the doctor, a slight man in the later stages of middle age. He had thinning salt and pepper hair, glasses and wore a sport coat and gray slacks, professional but about a decade away from fashionable. Pretty typical stuff. The problem began after the intial introduction and hand shake. For the rest of the meeting - which lasted approximately 30 minutes - the good doctor was unable to avert his eyes from my chest whenever he looked at me.

Literally, it was so obvious I looked down to make sure I didn't have a stain or maybe a small, furry mammal hitchhiking on the front of my shirt. Don't get me wrong, I count my breasts as one of my best assets, but to be this obvious? It was unprecedented. Clearly this guy had spent the last twenty years in a hole... okay, well, a sterile building surrounded by dead people. Okay, I guess I could see his interest. He's not exactly used to seeing those things when they're ALIVE, ya know?

So we ended our little meeting, and the M.E. left. Mike looked at me and asked, "Do you think he was happy to see a live woman? He didn't take his eyes of your chest the whole time! Did you notice? Tell me you noticed."

I kind of felt dirty, but I guess I couldn't blame the guy. I mean, how many live women does this guy get to see on the average day, let alone live, 26-year old women with highlights, heels and a graduate degree?

Public Service Announcement: Medical Examiners like boobs too, ladies.

Up in smoke

I smoked for several years in my early 20s. I don't remember those times fondly, so I don't generally mention it. My mom and dad were both chain smokers; it killed my dad, but mom's still puffing away. More power to her, I suppose, but I decided years ago to quit the habit. I quit when I was 22, after a friend from college was killed in a car accident. Virginia was a girl who took impeccable care of herself, and her death helped underscore how fragile life is.

I never really liked the way cigarettes tasted, but I did like the social aspect of it. In general, young smokers are a lively bunch. In college, we smokers were a bunch of drunks who excelled at mindless banter whilst maintaining our balance like a Russian gymnast (it's dangerous to drink and hold hot fire in your hand). You could always tell the regular smokers from the girl who had one too many sips of her Blue Cup at He's Not (if you're from NC, you'll know what the hell all that means) and decided to throw caution to the wind and light up. Those girls always ended up getting knocked on their ass by the nicotine rush and stabbing people with the lit end of their cigarette.

One night, I was in line at this bar that used to be called Brother's, and some drunk ho jumped in line to playfully hug the guy in front of me. Her lit cigarette landed right on that indentation in your clavicle and burned the f*ck out of me. I'd like to report that I punched her, but I'm just not that tough. I'm sure we exchanged words, and I probably told her to contain her mess.

My stories have no real point, other than the fact that I'm feeling reminiscent today. Oh, and that fact that I've been craving a cigarette lately. Isn't that weird? A full eight years after I had my last drag, and all of the sudden I'd kill for a puff. I could have one and feel confident it wouldn't affect me. I was a rather casual (re: drunk) smoker, and it's not as if I go out and party anymore. Quitting was a breeze for me - one day I just stopped. Still, I just think it's weird that I want one, especially since I think the taste is across the board nast (left off the "y" on purpose).

Extroverted Introvert

If pressed, I'll say that I don't like people very much. I say that because it shocks most people. I don't really hate other people, it's just that I don't have much use for the surface personalities of 99% of the people I meet. If I got to know them better, maybe I'd like them, but somehow my tough exterior never lets me get that far.

However, my rather sociopathic view towards others was put on its head when I took a Myers-Briggs personality test a couple of years ago. Come to find out, I have extrovert tendencies and draw my energy from others. As you can see, this puts me in a rather awkward position.

Instead of working with others, I've been internally competing against others for years. I blame this partially on my mom, who is competitive even with her daughters when it comes to vanity-related matters. You win, Mom, I can never be as skinny as you are.

Recently, I discovered that a law school acquaintance started her own jewlery business. It's similar to mine in name and style. Going by my history, I should declare my hatred for this interloper and put a hex on her beading hands.

However, something else has happened. I've contacted her by email to let her know about our similarities. Turns out we have waaay more in common than I thought. We're both commercial real estate attorneys, have both traveled to Maui since law school, both make jewelry and we were both candidates for the same job back in 2007 (which neither of us got). Okay, I've explained all this in an earlier post, so let's press forward to the point, which is....

Instead of petty jealously, I feel really inspired by my friend and the changes she's made in her life. It inspires me to get my ass moving. I should be in bed right now, but I stayed up to finish a necklace. I'll be up a lot this week since I want to have our photography up and running on our official site by next week.

The point is, I am actually feeding off someone else's energy, but not in a competitive manner. I'm not trying to outsell her or beat her, I'm just trying to learn from her and use her momentum to get my own ass moving. We're even discussing a collaborative show. How cool would that be?

In business, I find that women are each others worst enemies. The egos, the fear, the sheer exhaustion... at the end of the day female lawyers just don't have a lot to give each other in the way of support. Whether it's backstabbing or just forgetting about that female colleague on the other side of the office, working in a law firm can be a lonely place for a 31 year old woman.

I want to change this, at least in my own life. I am going to support my new friend A., and learn from her. I hope I have some lessons she can take from me as well. I hope we both succeed, and can do so while supporting each other. Look at this little extroverted introvert go!

Delaying Gratification

I have this big, meaningful post half-written, but I can't seem to refocus to continue writing it. In the meantime, I thought I'd write a little ditty about delayed gratification. It's not a concept most of us are familiar with these days. You want an iPod? No need to work a few extra hours to get it, just put it on the AMEX. After all, you DO get miles.

In this me-me-me, now-now-now world, I've decided to do something almost unprecedented and delay doing something I want to do that I could do right now. You follow? Anyway, two of my favorite authors (who are oddly similar writers) have come out with brand new books. David Sedaris has just released "When You Are Engulfed in Flames" and Augusten Burroughs publised "A Wolf At the Table" this spring.

I cannot wait to read these books. I am one of those dorks who practically groans with pleasure upon entering a bookstore. I love it all: the quiet, the tall rows of perfect books whose spines are virgin, uncreased. I can (and do) spend hours in Barnes & Noble. I love nothing more than getting lost in a good book. However, as much as I want to read these two books, I've decided that I will leave them for my October vacation.

Is it a small sacrifice? Of course. It's not a delayed gratification that really means anything to the world or to my bottom line. But it's something to look forward to. Knowing that when I arrive at the airport on October 3rd, I will have two unblemished, unread, glossy books in the my travelpack that I am positive I will enjoy reading.

The thought makes me dizzy with anticipation. Weird? Yes. But I became friends with weird a long time ago.

Super Sunday

I've been pretty non-chatty when it comes to my jewelry. I've been busy in the last few days, and here is a sampling of my most recent creations. This is soooo much better than drafting loan documents.

Oh, and please pardon my photography. I'm still working on our ideal set-up, but I don't have a soft box right now. Give me time, give me time. If you're any kind of photographer, I wouldn't mind some tips. I've got a DSLR and a couple of tripods, so I've got the equipment, I'm just lacking in the knowledge department.

Sorry state of my workplace

So, CLIO is back on, my friends. We're running full steam. Our URL is currently under design, we're working feverishly on production, and we're going to run it like a business instead of a hobby. We've got 9-12 months to see what happens. Wish me luck.

First order of business? Get the cats off of my workspace. Second order of business? Relocate my workspace to an area that is NOT my dining room table. Sounds like somebody has a Sunday project.

Tonight's dinner

I had too much wine. What can I say? My friend went out with us and she's pregnant. So I had to drink her share. It's only right.

Tee hee.

Open Letter to a Racist Friend

Dear Racist Friend,

Yes, it's true I am a white American who was raised in the south. No, it's not true that this fact automatically makes me a racist. In fact, I live in a neighborhood that is decidedly diverse, with people from Asia, Europe and even (GASP!) Africa. I don't make fun of Spanish-speakers by calling them "mexicanos", don't call Muslims "ragheads" and definitely don't go around saying things like "we should just build a damn fence!"

I've heard you and similarly-minded friends say one or more of these things (or worse, but that's not fit for print) at one time or another.

None of my best friends are racist or hostile to any particular ethnic group. If anything, we find diversity of skin color and life experiences fascinating. I forget sometimes when I meet new friends that I don't always know where they're coming from.

I received a wake-up call today when my husband received an email from you, a relatively new friend. You and your wife are well-educated, well-traveled and socialize with people of different ethnicities. We thought you were like-minded.

Then, we received the Barack Obama email from you. The one with a title like "THIS COULD BE THE NEW FIRST FAMILY". It proceeds to enumerate all of the Obama family "sins" (I guess you forgot about good 'ol Bill and his philandering or Bushie and his coke use?), from alcoholism to Islam to a distant relative named "Fidel." Then, there are pictures attached showing Barack with his mom and his African birth father, with his Asian stepfather, and with African relatives.

I guess some Americans, including you, find this new first family portrait to be an aberration. I call it progress. Have you looked around? Here in my city (where you also live, BTW), every other car contains people whose skin is a shade other than white. WAKE THE FUCK UP. Why does this potential "first family portrait" scare you so much? Are you scared because Barack looks different from you or has different life experiences than you? Be honest - is it his funny name, his dark skin? Maybe it's his Harvard law degree that he earned on his own, without the benefit of nepotism, money or pedigree.

"But he got in because he was black," you argue. True, affirmative action is alive and well, particularly in law school. But guess what? Getting in doesn't automatically entitle you to graduate Magna Cum Laude or be elected President of Law Review. No, those were honors he EARNED. My dear racist friend, I'd like to see you at Harvard Law and see if you could accomplish those things. My guess is a resounding "NO."

I don't mean to imply that if you don't support Obama you are a racist. Just please, choose not to support him because you don't agree with his ideas, his message or his politics, but not because you don't like the way he looks. That's all I'm asking. If people judged you on your looks, dear racist friend, you wouldn't have gotten very far.

Now look what you've made me do.

And, dear friend, please don't send these racist forwards any longer. Obama is NOT a Muslim, he's not a communist and he isn't out to "get whitey." If you do continue to send these emails, do so at your own peril. You will lose friends.

You've already lost one.

My Happy Place

I have to do a couple of really unpleasant things at work today. Oh, and I have to go to the DENTIST. The last time I went there, they found three cavities and committed crimes against nature in my mouth (that sounds dirty). So I've put off going for two years. There'll be hell to pay, I'm sure of it.

When I'm in that chair, high on gas, I'll really be on Maho Beach in St. John:



PS - Something is up with my template b/c my black background is not showing up. Sorry if it's hard to read. I suspect that image shack is having an issue, but if this doesn't resolve in a couple of days I'm switching templates.

PPS - Thanks to Saratica for the shout out on her blog, www.abroadincostarica.com. My readership has, like, doubled today (from 7 to 14!). Big times.

Coincidence?

I have a doppelganger. Okay, so maybe she's not really an EVIL twin, but she appears to be a twin nonetheless. I just like saying "doppelganger." She's not a twin in a physical sense, but in the "oh my god we're living parallel lives" sort of way. It this girl A. that I went to law school with. A. and I were acquaintances in law school, but not really friends. I always liked her, but she seemed a little aloof and lost in her own world. Okay, again, I've probably just described myself.

Regardless, I've recently connected with her on Facebook. I've discovered that she's opened her own jewelry business with an eerily similar name. She had also been working as a Commercial Real Estate attorney until recently. She revealed to me that she and I were both interviewing for the same in-house job back in the Fall, and we've both traveled to Maui and taken similar pictures on the same beach since graduation.

How is it possible to have so much in common with a person and never know it? I guess that's really a dumb question, because it happens all the time. You find yourself locked in to a pre-conceived notion about someone so you never get to know them. Anyway, I think we're going to have lunch soon and this is exciting - a new friend!

She has recently made the very giant move of leaving her traditional law job and going in to contract work. She works part time and does her jewelry the rest of the day. I've been needing to talk to someone with this kind of initiative. Someone who has said "I'm not going to accept being unhappy" and then gone out and done something about it. While I financially cannot do that right now, I can put myself in a position to make that move, and that is something.

I think going to law school is kind of like the military. They break you down and then build you back up, mentally-speaking. You drink the water and begin to think that law is a very linear career path. Associate-Senior Associate-Partner-Dead. That's the life trajectory. Except I've always known that's not the path I will take. It's just harder to get off this treadmill than I'd bargained.

With time, I will get off that treadmill. Thanks A., you've inspired me and you probably don't even know it.

Your Answer is in the Stars

You know how you forget about funny stuff you did as a kid or a young adult? And then all of a sudden you see something and it reminds you and BAM, the memory comes flooding back? That happened to me today.

When I was in Middle School, I wanted to be a writer. I got involved in our school's paper and got drafted to do the horoscopes. No one but me, the teacher and our editor knew it was me. I never told anyone (which was weird because I have a big mouth, and to know me is to know I cannot be trusted with confidential information. It's a personality flaw. Sue me.).

Anyways... So I would make these horoscopes up once a week. We're talking pull them out of my ass. I was all "ARIES: This week you will face struggles in your studies. Stick with it. But be sure to give that special someone a wink when they look at you. Don't worry, the feeling is mutual!"

I probably scarred a lot of people with horoscopes like those.

Clearly, I enjoyed playing the role of a little sociopathic soothsayer. I clearly remember one friend going on and on about how the horoscope was SO TRUE for her. I had to put "so true" in all caps because she was a 12 year old girl and that's how they talk.

Ah, fun times. And to think, I'd forgotten all about this until today.

Really?!

Any regular reader around here knows I have a certain amount of sarcastic anger bubbling just under the surface. I'm considering a weekly (or bi-weekly or monthly... so basically when I feel like it) feature called "REALLY?!" where I list all of the dumb shit that has pissed me off. A few gems from recent days:

1. My mom asked if we wanted to buy her car. Once we got into negotiations and made plans, she started backpeddling and yesterday told me that she's decided to keep her car and we have to go to Plan B. REALLY?!

2. The semi-idiot kid across the street ran out in front of my car yet again yesterday. He's 8, which I consider old enough to KNOW BETTER. I was only going, like, 10 miles an hour, so I fortunately had time to slam on my brakes. REALLY?!

3. The President-elect of our Home Owner's Association has said he will step down because he recently lost his job and "his family is his first priority." He has suggested that my husband, a board member, would make a fine President. Oh, fuck no. I will get a d-i-v-o-r-c-e if that happens. REALLY?!

4. An acquaintance from law school that I haven't seen in years just started a jewelry company. The name is oddly-similar to our name. REALLY?!

5. Someone just sent a box of hot Krispy Kreme donuts to our office, and I sit right by the kitchen. I'm watching all these fools run in for donuts, and I'm on a diet. REALLY?! (UPDATE: I have 1/4 of a donut. It wasn't that good. Urge solved with very little diet damage.)

That's all the anger I have this morning. See, I feel better already.

CLIO

I'm at a bit of an impasse with my jewelry business. When it started, it seemed like it would be a fun diversion.

How quickly things change.

When we did a couple of shows in December, it quickly became apparent how much work this would be. Besides making the jewelry, which is time-consuming enough by itself, there's logging inventory, accounting, marketing and pricing. It's not that I mind, it's just that I'm a big investment/reward person. Is the time and effort I'm spending worth the money this is bringing in?

So far, the answer is a resounding "NO."

If I had more time, I could really do something with this company. I'm sure of that. But isn't that the way it always sounds: "If I had more time, I could... cure cancer... save the rainforests... learn how to pilot small aircraft." Insert your own wish in, the point is always the same. There's just not enough time in this life to do everything.

So I feel like it's shit or get off the pot time with jewelry. Either it's a hobby, or it's a business. But this hybrid hobby/business model isn't working for anybody. Not me, not my business partner, not the bottom line.

I've certainly learned a thing or two from this experience. But maybe it's time for a new dream? Or is it time to push forward with this one?

I don't know what to do.

UPDATE: I didn't buy a dress yesterday. I figured it was contra to the whole "living simply" idea

UPDATE: My mom decided not to sell us her car. Now I've got to find a Plan B to eradicate the yuppie albatross from my life.

Costa Rica Photos

Here's a sampling of Costa Rica pictures. I've selected some of my favorites. Enjoy!

Aerial of Drake Bay, Osa Peninsula:


Arenal Volcano:


Horse Stampede:


La Fortuna Waterfall:


Island Chica Ziplines!:


Pacific Ocean:


Spider Monkey:


Osa Animal Sanctuary Beach:


Howler Monkey:


Bosque Del Cabo Cabina:

Hooky

As I've mentioned 3,389 times, I'm in the commercial real estate business. Up until April, there was enough work to keep me busy. Since I returned from Costa Rica, the well has dried up. As in bone dry. The good news? I know for a fact my job is safe because I've been told so. Twice. I feel a little guilty collecting a fairly large paycheck for little-to-no work, but I figure I've been working consistently for three years now, with little down time. This business is cyclical, and I've been told to enjoy myself for the time being.

So today, I think I'm leaving early to go shopping. I want a new dress, and I'm going to buy one, dammit. Okay, if I can find one that is in my self-imposed budget, I'm going to buy one.

On a completely unrelated note, I realize that I've failed to provide any real report for my Costa Rica trip. I've written most of one, but frankly I've lost steam to finish. Somehow it's just not as important to me to document every little occurence as it used to be. We had a great time, met some great people and stayed in fabulous places. The Osa Peninsula in particular was enchanting.

This is a catch-all kind of post, but I've been busy with life lately. Between making new jewelry, working, keeping my house clean, cooking and seeing friends, I've had little time for blogging.

The Italian and I had a discussion yesterday and he's on board with paring back our lives a little bit. We went to a going away party for our friends M and T this weekend. They live in a perfect suburban neighborhood with huge homes, luxury cars and Stepford wives. All the men wear polos, all the women wear Lily Pulitzer. After spending the evening at the perfect little cul-de-sac barbeque, the Italian told me: "I don't want that life, and I feel like that's where we're headed." I agreed and we discussed how to change things.

First, we're going to sell our home when we can. Second, we're selling my car. Third, we're going to save like little squirrels storing nuts for the long winter. For me, freedom = happiness. Right now, we're just not free. We are one job loss away from a major catastrophe, financially-speaking. I am uncomfortable with that situation.

This post is just one big brain-dump.