The Billing Room

A shift...

2008-10-20T19:16:00.003-04:00

Well, I've clearly been offline at The Billing Room for a good while. However, I've recently started a new blog dealing with my primary interest, travel. I'm tired of hearing myself whine, I guess, and want to polish up my travel writing skills a bit. So, here's my new blog... The Billing Room is likely going dark, so if you want to follow me, you can do so at my new blog, the Clever Nomad: http://www.clevernomad.com.

Thanks!

I'm Back

2008-08-28T10:21:00.001-04:00

Hold the presses. I know you guys have been dying, asking "where IS that Island Chica?" That Island Chica needed a break, and she needed to take some stuff down off her blog. Once the name of my jewelry company was posted here, I realized I had some housekeeping to do. That's the problem with blogs - if you're anonymous, you can say anything you want but then you aren't that interesting. If you're "out", then you can share more interesting details but can't say as much.

Decisions, decisions.

Pomp and circumstance

2008-07-01T11:19:00.002-04:00

I went to UGA for law school. I'm not really much of a football fan, so the whole bulldog ritual thing is sort of lost on me.

Admission: I attended three years of law school and never once attended a UGA football game.

What can I say? I was raised in NC and I'm a basketball girl. Sue me.

Anyway, the good people down in Georgia are nuts about football. They are also nuts about bulldogs (bullgods?), the mascot for the University of Georgia. A real live mascot dog attends the games, and the dog (god) is always named UGA. UGA VI recently died, and while the death of any beloved animal is sad, what I read in the article about his burial was surprising.

The god (typo but I'm keeping it) died in Savannah, Georgia, which is a few hours from Athens. Upon his death, THE UNIVERSITY FLEW THE DOG'S CARCASS ON THE UNIVERSITY PLANE FROM SAVANNAH TO ATHENS. In case you don't understand me, let's get this clear: public funds were used to fuel a plane, when gas is at it's highest price ever recorded, in order to transport a dog's body?

Then, the dog was buried after a ceremony, complete with anthems and speeches.

We're not talking about an epic car ride from Savannah to Athens. It's maybe 5 hours. I mean, we're not talking Sacramento to San Diego here. Using public funds to transport dead soldiers in planes? Why yes, that's a-ok by me. Using public funds to transport a dead dog in a private plane? Fuck off, State of Georgia.

Banned

2008-06-25T15:09:00.002-04:00

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

2008-06-24T09:59:00.002-04:00

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.

2008-06-23T15:00:00.002-04:00

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

2008-06-23T10:49:00.003-04:00

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

2008-06-20T11:04:00.005-04:00

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

2008-06-17T17:22:00.002-04:00

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

2008-06-13T19:54:00.002-04:00

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

2008-06-12T22:25:00.002-04:00

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

2008-06-12T14:31:00.005-04:00

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

2008-06-10T23:15:00.002-04:00

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

2008-06-10T13:39:00.002-04:00

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

2008-06-08T18:12:00.004-04:00

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

2008-06-08T00:25:00.003-04:00

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

2008-06-06T22:46:00.001-04:00

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

2008-06-05T15:26:00.005-04:00

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

2008-06-05T10:39:00.003-04:00

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?

2008-06-05T10:10:00.005-04:00

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

2008-06-04T15:09:00.004-04:00

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?!

2008-06-04T10:01:00.005-04:00

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

2008-06-03T13:59:00.004-04:00

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

2008-06-02T15:27:00.004-04:00

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

2008-06-02T15:06:00.003-04:00

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.

What's up

2008-05-29T10:49:00.002-04:00

I've been pretty silent lately. I've been thinking a lot, but not about anything I really want to write about. Work is d-e-a-d, so that monkey is off my back for a little while. I do feel guilty collecting a paycheck when there is little work to be done. C'est la vie, I suppose.

I'm selling my yuppie albatross, the BMW, in the next couple of months. We're going to buy my mom's car, which is an older Accord. It's a fine car and it will get me around for two years until we can purchase a newer car outright. I find myself wanting to get rid of some other trappings, but I don't know where to start. I WANT to get rid of the McMansion, but I can't, not without taking a huge financial loss. Hold on, hold on for two more years.

Why is home ownership a good thing again? Can someone remind me?

This is a very short life

2008-05-20T11:27:00.002-04:00

I've reached a good point in the last couple of weeks. I can actually see myself working somewhere other than where I'm working now, and see myself doing it successfully. I've realized - 100% FOR SURE - that this is not my long term career. My life is too short, and I'm too unhappy.

The problem, as always, is money honey. I make a decent amount of it. So, over the next year, we plan to save as much as we can. I'm selling my fancy car in a couple of months and buying an old Accord. We'll own it outright in no time.

We did make a mistake. We bought a very expensive house, and now we can't sell it. For a while, at least, I've got to keep on in my current position. I hope that within the next two years we can sell the house for our purchase price. I'll even move back in our townhome if we have to. We have two properties, and we've got to get rid of one or both. I've learned a valuable lesson, I just hope it doesn't cost us too much.

I don't know where I'll end up, but I know a change is coming. I've already changed. Like when you know a boyfriend isn't right for you, I know this job isn't right for me. Now, it's just down to timing. When can I move on?

Floodgates open? Check.

2008-05-18T19:15:00.003-04:00

A small shift has happened since May 1st, which just happened to be the day we landed in Costa Rica. Sometime since that day, I gained a pair of balls. I don't mean this in a real physical way, of course. I mean this metaphorically, never mind the fact that the expression is a bit misogynistic.

I really pushed my boundaries in Costa Rica. I went zip-lining, which involved getting tethered to a steel cable and pushed off a metal platform into a precipice some 600 feet above the tree canopy. I did this not just one, but seven times. I reached speeds of 35 MPH as I cruised along zip-lines more than a half-mile long, which, in case you were wondering, IS long enough to ponder what would happen if your harness broke. I was terrified, and I loved it.

Me, pre-May 1st:
I don't really ride roller coasters. I don't like to fly (though I am fascinated with aviation). And I definitely don't understand why people would jump out of a perfectly good airplane with just a little parachute attached to their back.

Me, current day:
Maybe I'll ride a big coaster next time we go to an amusement park - don't knock it 'til you've tried it! Flying on that 20-seat puddle jumper in Costa Rica was so cool and bumpy, the turbulence on our jet ride home barely phased me. The flights were fun. I still don't want to jump out of an airplane, but I get why people do it.

See? I think I may have been bit by the adrenaline bug.

My mom and my sister are notorious wimps. So vocal are they in their wimpiness that it rubs off on the impressionable people around them. Notably, me. I think of how many years I wasted nursing THEIR fears. Why?

When I stood there, terrified, deciding if I wanted to pull up and let the guide push me across that precipice in Costa Rica, I thought about why I was afraid. In an instant, I decided I needed to know for myself what my limits were. I looked at the guide and said: "Ready."

Apparently, I was ready. Ready to say goodbye to old, irrational fears. And ready to start living for myself.

And today, I drove a speedboat for the first time. In case you've never done so, driving on a crowded recreational lake on a weekend day with heavy winds is not the easiest introduction. But it was fun. I think I'll do that again. And who knows what else I'll do?

Knock knock. Who's there? Oh, it's real life

2008-05-13T14:59:00.002-04:00

My post-vacation bliss is fading. Today has brought the following: my sister being all shitty about costs for a mountain trip this summer, a snafu with the maid in cleaning our townhouse, the realization that the carpet in both our townhome and our real house is fucked, a person who has known me for THREE years totally pronouncing my name incorrectly (she calls me something different every week) and a surprising lack of work at my real job. The last thing scares the shit out of me. I'm a real estate attorney, and the real estate market sucks big ones.

THUD.

I think that's the sound of my return to reality.

Hola

2008-05-12T10:06:00.003-04:00

I'm sitting in my office, which is starkly illuminated by flourescent lights. If it weren't for the large picture window that faces actual trees and birds, I might go crazy. It all seems so harsh, the flourescent lights, the suit jackets, the sounds of the office phones, ringing and ringing. Costa Rica was so soft. The sounds, the air, the light, the voices of its people, all somehow less intrusive than the soundtrack that accompanies life in Atlanta. So subtle and dream-like was Costa Rica that I wonder if I imagined it. The pictures and video prove that it wasn't all in my head, but still it feels like a dream. An oasis, really.

A complete write-up will come later, but suffice it to say that I loved Costa Rica. While I'm sad to be back, I don't have the despair that has accompanied my return from other vacations. Why? I can't place it, but somehow Costa Rica is still with me. I found myself very at peace there, even in the large city of San Jose. The peace is still inside, and I'm determined to let it remain for as long as it can.

So close, yet so far away

2008-04-29T09:27:00.002-04:00

Look down on the right side of my page. See that trip counter? Right now it says 2 days until our Costa Rica Adventure. 2 days is not much time. It feels like an eternity as I sit at my desk, one more day of serving my sentence until I can be free. I'm being dramatic, I know. I haven't had a week off since the very first week of July 2007. My office isn't an office that supports taking time off. They make it difficult for you to do so, and the clients are so demanding. There is no "putting in your time." If you aren't here to do your job, it doesn't get done. Period.

I can't wait to be off, exploring a new country. In truth, I'm scared because I speak only restaurant Spanish. I can greet people, tell them I don't speak Spanish, order food and say "thanks!", but that's about it. Lots of people in CR speak English, but not all. I think we'll get around okay... I hope so.

We have to ride on a small, 20-seat plane for an hour to reach one of our destinations. I hope we make it okay. I'm most nervous about that flight. Okay, that flight and the ziplining. But I'm determined to do both.

Ugh, will Thursday ever get here? I've miles to go before then, and delaying my work isn't going to help, is it?

In a nutshell, I'm sorry

2008-04-22T15:04:00.003-04:00

I'm not getting much work done today, so a blog post seems in order. At least I'm producing SOMETHING this way.

I've recently created a profile on Facebook (FB from here on out). I've resisted for so long, and now I know why. Don't get me wrong, it's fun to catch up with old friends, but sometimes it just brings back memories I'd just as soon have forgotten. FB is an excellent stalking tool. Even if one of your old friends isn't on there, there's a pretty good chance that a mutual friend will have some pictures of that person or some info about them. I guess it's better than totally losing track of folks, but still... I'd like to forget about a lot of things I did between the ages of 15 and 22.

Some people are on my mind today. People I haven't reached out to, but have found pictures or snippets of information about. People who I can't and won't contact directly, for a variety of reasons that are intensely personal and not for any public forum. To those people, I have a few things to say:

To AL, you are probably the most beautiful person I've ever met in real life. In college, you were so troubled and I lost patience. Crazy, promiscuous and psycho were words I often threw about when describing you to others. That was mean and I'm sorry. The truth is, you were troubled. Deeply. I'm sorry I didn't even try to help more, but honestly I didn't know what to do with you. People were completely bewitched by you at first meeting, and I was intensely envious of that. And of your physical beauty. Was I shallow? Yes, I freely admit that. But I was also jealous. Part of me wanted to be as carefree and damn ballsy as you were every single day. But you were too carefree, and that turned me off. You were carefree to the point where you neglected your responsibilities, imposed on others with your irresponsibility, and physically and emotionally hurt yourself over and over again. You exhausted me.

I hope you've found some sort of happiness in your life. Honolulu seems as if it would suit you. Even with all of your horrible choices, countless mistakes and personal tragedy, I'm still jealous that you have the balls to step outside of what is expected and normal. Just please don't end up like your mom did. I still think about you, even though it's likely I will never see you again. I doubt I ever cross your mind these days, and I'm okay with that. Please find peace, please don't repeat the cycle.

To AN, I admit a small part of me still harbors a grudge. What you did to me was really low, probably the meanest thing anyone has ever done to me. You were cutthroat and manipulative, and in the end it didn't really work out so well for you, did it? I know it was 10 years ago, and I want to like you now, but I find it hard. I can't like you because I don't trust you. Actually, that's probably not correct, the whole problem is that I do LIKE you, but I can't trust you. So, I guess we can be friendly, but not friends. What I don't want is to feel the grudge anymore. I want to wash that away. With this post, I am acknowledging to myself that the grudge is gone - it has to be. It's childish and stupid and small of me to hold it any longer. You were a very young woman who used bad judgment. I was admittedly irresponsible for a while there. I was tough to live with and we fought often and hard. I accept my part in what happened, I still wonder if you accept yours. Do you ever feel bad about it now? Did you ever feel bad, at any point? These are the questions I will never have the answers to, but I wish you well with your pregnancy. Twins! You will be busy for a while, and I may not see you for some time. I wish you all the best. Truly.

That gut-dump down memory lane is all I can handle for today. My feelings and thoughts about these individuals (and a few others) are so complex and I've never put them into words. If I could have 10 minutes to speak to either of these women, I would read them exactly what I've written today.

Relationships are complex, especially between women.

Odds and ends

2008-04-21T11:39:00.002-04:00

It's been a while, but we've had a lot going on. The Italian's sister had her gastric bypass on April 15th (tax day). She is just being discharged today, as she had a serious complication over the weekend. She had an intestinal blockage and some sort of umbilical hernia. She's better now, but there were some tense times.

We also had some of the Italian's cousins from NYC in town for the last week. It was really fun.

Things have been surprisingly good for me lately. I'm not sure if it's the arrival of spring weather, the upcoming vacation, the fact that I've been taking measures to get my workouts back on track, better eating or just an overall shift, but things feel clearer now.

We received news a few weeks back that one of our good couple-friends is moving to Texas. These friends are some of our last true family-like friends left in this area. We haven't been terribly close in the last year because since they've had their first child, they've dropped off the map. It happens sometimes. I try to understand, but I can't say my feelings aren't hurt.

Anyway, I am really thinking hard now about where I want the Italian and I to be. No question, if I wasn't married, I'd be out of this city like a bolt of lightening. However, realities being what they are, I am married and I have two residences. Shit. How are we going to sell these places?

The Italian and I have some stuff to figure out. If I had my druthers, one of us would find a contract somewhere warm, like the Cayman Islands, Bermuda, St. Thomas, etc. I don't know if I'll win that battle though.

I realize that I've been spinning my wheels here at work. While there are certainly good things about where I work, this place makes me feel as if my world's a little small. I never get the chance to travel in this job, and I never will. While many of the people I work with are nice, a lot of them have a very defeatest attitude. There's a lot of complaining, and a lot of people who just accept that moderate unhappiness is their lot in life. I won't accept that.

So, here I am. I know I need to move on, but I'm frustrated because I have to wait to do so. For now, I will save as much money as I can, keep myself healthy and employed, and wait it out. I'll travel as much as we can afford to, and not worry so much about how much time I'm taking off work. After all, I highly doubt a partnership here is in the cards for me.

It's 75 degrees outside today and not a cloud in the sky. I'm going to Costa Rica in 10 days, going to the beach and mountains this summer and going to St. John in October. Life could be worse.

Crumbling

2008-04-12T22:28:00.002-04:00

I feel sorry for the Italian right now. Up until three years ago, his family was solid as a rock, albeit with some small pieces chipped off along the way. In the past three years:

1. Sister #2 has gotten divorced, had major behavioral problems with her children, major money problems due to her ex, and is now having major surgery for weight loss purposes next week (it's a big risk).

2. Sister #1 has decided to leave her husband of 16+ years on what seems like a whim. She has her reasons, but basically she thinks she can do better. I know this to be true, but she's not admitting it. She's been unfaithful, and she's used the Italian as her confidante. It's unfair.

3. The Parents have retired, and each is now getting progressively more annoyed by the other. The bickering has reached fever pitch. Dad is extremely opinionated, and is very disappointed in Sister #1's recent decisions. He thinks she's over her head at her job and trying to run with the big dogs when she needs to be at home with her kids. I disagree on that front. The kids have two parents... it's time for Sister #1's husband (soon-to-be ex) to step up to the plate and take care of those kids since he hasn't been around for a while. He's retired. He can do it.

4. Brother #2 is engaged, but they can't set a date. They keep changing their minds. There is uncertainty, and a lack of confidence in the relationship. This is the Italian's closest sibling, and we just want him to be happy. Easier said than done.

5. Brother #1 has a wife with mental health issues. Major ones. They've been stablizied lately, but it's never easy.

The Italian is on the phone right now arguing with Sister #1 about something. Apparently, some family function (maybe a first communion for a niece?) was scheduled during our upcoming vacation (which has been on the books since August 2007). They're upset we can't come. They didn't ask before they scheduled. It's getting nasty.

The walls are crumbling a bit, and it makes me sad. My family foundation is so unstable, and I always looked towards the Italian's family to fill certain gaps. Now, it's not so dependable.

This is a depressing post. I'm going to drink some wine.

I miss the smell of sunscreen

2008-04-10T09:44:00.003-04:00

It's a beautiful day outside today. 75 degrees or so and brilliantly sunny. Weather like this makes me long for the smell of sunscreen. You know the scent: when you're on vacation and you've got nothing to decide except whether to read US Weekly, People or that smut you brought along that technically qualifies as a "book." Before you head out of the day, you slather yourself in coconut-scented sunscreen. Everywhere you go, people have the same scent, sun-exposed skin mixed with coconut. It's delicious. And my time is coming - soon.

I just have to get through the next 21 days. C'mon May!

Spring Sprung Sprang

2008-04-09T09:57:00.002-04:00

I've sunken to new lows. This is a post about weather, my friends. After a weekend in Hilton Head Island, SC last week, I'd sort of gotten accustomed to this spring thing. I like warm weather. Even better, I like bathing suit weather accompanied by beer and cookouts. Weather.com swears that the average high temperature for April in my city is 73 degrees. Fair enough, it's going to be 73 today! But, this weekend things get decidedly cooler. I mean, 57 on Sunday and 51 on Monday? Ick. If I wanted January weather, I'd live in the Northeast. I need spring. Spring has sprung, then it takes two steps back.

I just want to lie in the sun. Is that too much to ask?

Dear Starbucks Order Taker,

2008-04-08T09:30:00.003-04:00

While I don't normally use the Starbucks drive-thru, when I noticed the completely free drive-thru line this morning I simply couldn't resist. I pulled up to place my thrice-weekly order, a tall skinny vanilla latte, and was greeted with a peppy voice pulsing out of the order box: "Good morning and welcome to Starbucks, would you like to try a cup of our new Pike Place roast with one of our new top pop donuts?"

First, that's a mouthful. Second, now I'm beginning to understand why your damn drive through line is so fucking long every morning. If you read a chapter of War & Peace to every customer who comes through, it's going to take a hot minute. Third, no, I don't want to try a damn new roast. You roast your beans to hell and render a plain old cup of coffee completely undrinkable.

But did I say that, even though I was thinking it? No. Alas, you held my morning salvation, in the form of an expresso shot, in your peppy little hands. I just said, "Uh, no, I'd like a tall skinny vanilla latte."

Then you asked me if I wanted anything to eat. I think by this point we've established that I understand how this ordering thing works. If I'd wanted a nasty, pre-made, tasteless muffin, I would've ordered it the first go 'round. The coffee will be just fine, you dolt.

Again, using restraint, I just said "no." Then I was asked to hold on a minute while you got my total. You know what? I don't really care. I know the answer: the total is TOO FUCKING MUCH FOR A CUP OF COFFEE. See, I know that, yet I come anyway, as I am a fool. An addicted fool.

I pull up to the window and another peppy, hip chick takes my card. She then forces some literature about a Starbucks card into my hand. Are they fucking kidding me? I pull off, and wonder if the hassle was worth it.

I take a sip, and decide that mediocrity has a price. $3.27.

I'm Back... for now, anyway

2008-03-25T09:55:00.002-04:00

You know how sometimes when you feel pressure to do something, it just seems like too much, but then once you remove that pressure, the thing you were stressing about didn't seem so bad? Well, that's how I felt on my break from blogging. That, and of course the fact that the week I chose to break from blogging, lots of shit happened... some good, but mostly bad.

My best friend had her second baby, a girl. Good! Then, my friend developed a uterine infection and her husband - the sole breadwinner - lost his job. Bad! I'm working out a lot more and am really happy with the plan I'm following. Good! I've eaten like absolute shit the last week. Bad! A pep talk from my boss led me to learn that I am in no danger of losing my job during this crappy economy. Great! I bought my house during the 2006 boom and I hate it... and I have no idea when we'll be able to sell and I refuse to do so without breaking even. Bad!

I really treat this blog like a bit of a personal diary, which I suppose is good and bad all at the same time. Good, because I need to get certain thoughts out. Bad, because even though I didn't want to lose my anonyminity, I did in certain cases. A few things have been bothering me lately, and I've been hesitant to really even think through these thoughts, let alone write them down. I guess I have to deal with it sometimes.

First, I'm having a bit of conflict with my chosen profession. I am a commercial real estate attorney. There are good things about my career - it's stable, it only becomes more stable the older I get, I make good money and my hours are very reasonable. Those things are all very important. However, I've been having a bit of an ethical conflict lately with some of the projects I have to handle. I don't mind refinances, even though I don't love finance. I do mind new projects where beautiful farm land is being turned into a concrete shopping center filled with another nail salon and Quizno's. The Italian reminds me that this forward "progress" would occur whether or not my firm closed the transaction. He's right, of course.

I just found out that one of my favorite places in my county - a game ranch where injured animals are rehabbed and you can visit and feed these animals by hand - is being sold to a Buddhist temple. Granted, it's not a shopping center, but it's not going to be the "game ranch" any longer either. Sigh.

Second, I've written a lot about being "down" or "unhappy" or "annoyed" lately. In general, I think I operate at a lower level of "happy" than a lot of people in the pervasively, ridiculously optimistic US of A (see?). However, I think something else is going on. There is a history of depression in my family, and I suspect I'm carrying on the tradition.

I definitely have long cycles where things seem very dark and impossible. I'm not the kind to lay in bed, shades drawn, and wither away. I'm functioning, although not at maximum capacity. My energy level is fairly low, my concentration level is pretty bad. I don't feel like cooking, one of my favorite hobbies, even on weekends when I have the time. Going to the store for groceries, or even going clothes shopping, seems like a monumental task. Don't even talk to me about cleaning my house. That's like climbing a mountain. Thank god the Italian is around to pitch in.

I'm easily irritated, I'm snapping a lot lately, and any little thing someone says that disagrees with one of my thoughts or ideas seems like a personal attack. I'm very difficult to be around, and I don't like myself very much right now.

I was seeing a therapist about some family problems back in 2007. I gave it up for a variety of reasons, but ultimately I didn't feel a connection with the therapist I saw. I don't know if I want to try again. I probably should. I've always been a little leery of medication, and I've never taken an anti-depressant. Maybe I just don't know enough, but messing with brain chemistry sounds scary to me. Maybe there's another way.

Anyway, it's really scary to admit depression. I don't even like typing it. But I know ignoring it will not make it go away.

I have more to say, but I pretty worn out from this post already. I'll be back, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week.

Break

2008-03-17T11:17:00.002-04:00

I'm officially taking a break from blogging. I don't know for how long and I don't know when I'll resume. It may last a week, it may last a month. My stats show me that only 3-4 people read this on any average day, so my absence will not leave much of a mark on the world.

I've been reading a lot of blogs and travel message boards lately. The end result of all of this reading and researching is that I end up annoyed by people. Annoyed by people's opinions on crime, travel, money, breastfeeding, child-rearing and a host of other topics, some of which I don't even know anything about.

It's stupid, and I need a break. Plus, this spring weather is just so delicious that I need to spend time living, and not writing about living. My world, my life is not a stage.

Caught

2008-03-12T20:15:00.002-04:00

They caught one of the bastards who killed Eve Carson in Chapel Hill. They know who the other one is, but he's on the run. He's 17 years old. Given that most 17-year olds don't have the common sense of my cat, I have a feeling his days on the street are numbered. Since I'm a lawyer, I probably should say "the guys who allegedly killed Eve Carson," but I'm not interested in playing charades. They've got these guys on video using her ATM card the night she was killed, in her car.

This story makes me so angry. The guy in custody has an abrasion on his face. Did she fight back? Did they shoot her multiple times, including once in the head, because she fought? Did they try to rape her and she resisted too hard? Did she fail to give them her PIN code?

Of course, everything I say is just speculation and none of it helps anyone. These two guys, who are really half-grown sludge from Durham, killed this girl for no reason. I hate that one day I'll have to explain to my niece, or my (potential) daughter, that there are certain times of the day you can't even leave your house to go to your car by yourself.

This is a pretty shitty world we live in.

What we've decided

2008-03-10T17:26:00.002-04:00

Costa Rica is a go. I put my big girl panties on, took charge, and now am the proud owner of reservations for all three of our destinations, in addition to a 4 day rental of a Suzuki Grand Vitara.

I'm excited and scared all at the same time. Not of the new language or culture, but scared of the bugs. We're going to the Osa peninsula for part of our trip, and it's one of the most remote places in Costa Rica. Word on the street is that the creeps come out at night. Our cozy-looking bungalow will receive visitors during the night, including tree frogs, scorpions (!!) and things of undetermined name, shape and poison level. Holy fuck, I'm definitely taking earplugs and a sleep aid.

Here are our choices:
San Jose (our first night and then one night in transit): Orquideas Inn
Arenal/La Fortuna: Silencio Del Campo
Osa Peninsula: Bosque Del Cabo (and I'm linking to tripadvisor b/c I think their website is abysmal)

I'm excited now. This will be a very different trip, but an adventure I'm looking forward to. When we were on St. John, I enjoyed our daytime hikes and snorkel adventures much more than staying around the stuffy resort. I think I'm up to the challenge of Costa Rica.

Plus, I get to go to St. John in October anyway. I'm spoiled with travel and I love it!

Too sad to say much

2008-03-09T11:58:00.002-04:00

For better or worse, I was a sorority girl in college. Though I'm not sure I'd do it again, I did walk away with a few really great friends who I still depend on to this day. However, one of those friends lived in my dorm, so I'm pretty sure we would've been good friends even without the sorority.

I'm rambling. All to get to the point that when I was in college, my sorority faced two tragedies. First, one of the older girls was killed in a fraternity house fire. She was one of five or six who died. Second, another girl was killed in a car wreck about a year later. Another one of my sorority sisters was driving the car. It was a bad time all around.

I felt like tragedy was stalking my campus when I was in college. I went to UNC-Chapel Hill, and by all accounts its an idyllic school. In many ways, it is. However, in the four years I spent there, we had a campus shooter, a frat house fire, the suicide of a guy who was a member of the fraternity that had the fire, and several car wrecks that killed people. In addition, THREE (I'm not joking) members of my high school debate team all died while away at college. One had a brain aneuryism, one had a heart condition, and one was kidnapped and has not been found to this day. All this on top of the awesomeness of one of my best friend's mom being diagnosed with what turned out to be terminal cancer.

Life was just beginning, but all around me, it was also ending. If I ever seem a bit macabre, I come by it honestly. I embrace people who have a genuine excitement about life. I want to be one of those people. I just can't summon the energy or courage. I've seen too much tragedy in my 31 years. My best friend has lost both her brother and her mother since we left college. I've lost my father and watched him suffer horribly. I know how ugly and unfair life can be.

This week, tragedy again struck the place I most consider home. The student body president of UNC was murdered. I'd never heard of her before this week. Her name was Eve Carson, and she was the big cheese around campus. A prestigious Morehead scholar, involved in campus politics and policies, beautiful and seemingly fearless. This girl had a genuine excitement about life. This girl anticipated the future and each coming day. She was apparently shot in the head by a random robber who wanted her ATM card. She was dumped on the road a mile from her house, shot multiple times. The most recognizable girl on campus, and it took the police 24 hours to identify her.

They have a photo of the monster (I'm sorry, "person of interest") who did this, but don't have him under arrest at this point. I'm scared and sorry for my school. I was so hoping that a stalker had killed her. Not that it would have made it any better, but it wouldn't have been as scary for the students at UNC. Chapel Hill is a safe place. At least, it was. I hate that the safety and innocence that one should have in college has been taken away from the student body.

I don't have much of a point. I'm just sad for my school. I'm sad for the town. I'm sad for the world. Most of all, I'm sad for Eve Carson, whose dreams and ambition for the future will remain unfulfilled. And that's the most unfair thing of all.

my vacation is stressing me out

2008-03-02T22:19:00.002-05:00

We're taking time off in May. Right now, we've got frequent flyer tickets to Costa Rica. We've got one of our places booked, but we have until the 6th of March to cancel without penalty. After totaling up the cost of the Costa Rica trip, the costs came to almost $5000. Yikes. That's a chunk. We can go back to St. John in May for about $2600, not including a little bit of spending (we eat lots of meals in there). That's almost half as much!

I'm conflicted. I put pressure on myself to see and try new things, trying to collect travel experiences like they are a valuable commodity. But they aren't. The goal of my vacations right now should be to relax, cause I have major problems doing that these days. Eight nights on St. John sounds heavenly. I've only been once, and I saw less than a quarter of what there is to see of that rich island.

I also think that Costa Rica is a fabulous family destination for kids in the 6-13 age range. We've probably got time to do that trip after we have kids. On the other hand, I really grew fond of the ideas of seeing monkeys, sloths and macaws in their native habitats.

Can someone tell me what to do (don't answer that question). I don't think vacation is supposed to be this stressful. Am I right folks?

Up early...

2008-03-02T08:04:00.002-05:00

I'm up early today, for me. The Italian is playing hockey this morning, and I woke up around 7 to brilliant sunshine. It's supposed to be almost 70 today. Hello Spring! I plan on making some jewelry, running, and going to the market today. That's all that's on my list. Oh yeah, and going outside.

We went over to a friend's place for dinner last night. This particular couple are really good friends, and they have a 1-year old son. We just learned that they are possibly moving in the next year... and they won't say where. Long story, but the Italian and our male friend worked together for years, it's a really evil company and a very small world. Our friend needs to extricate himself from the company, but doesn't want to find a new job in our area because the company will sue him to enforce his non-compete agreement. Lawyers! They've either sued or threatened to sue many different valued employees who've left, including the Italian.

Anyway, I'm sad. These friends are some of the only people who make living here truly tolerable.

On a unrelated note, we're having to re-examine our May trip to Costa Rica. I've added everything up, and this is going to be one expensive trip. *Sigh*. I really don't want to go through the hassle of cancelling everything. We're trying to figure out if we can do St. John any cheaper... not sure if that will work.

Too casual

2008-02-29T13:52:00.000-05:00

I just read an article about the sorry state of the US economy. When a reporter asked President Bush what he thought about a recent economic report that suggests gas might reach $4.00 a gallon by next year, his comment was "That's interesting, I hadn't heard that before."

Geez, those words suggest the kind of lazy, half-ass response I give when the Italian starts blabbering on about string theory or outer space or some other article from Discover magazine. "That's interesting, dear."

Did anyone ever teach this guy how to respond to a question appropriately? How about, "I'm not familiar with that report, so I'm not equipped to comment on specifics at this point. However, the government is doing everything it can to...." I mean, come on! It's not that hard, dude! At least act like you care, lame duck or not.

A Vegas trip report, finally.

2008-02-28T09:21:00.004-05:00

We arrived in Vegas on February 13th at 10:00 pm, shortly after the airport re-opened after closing for high winds (70 MPH gusts). It was an unpleasant flight that involved one aborted landing attempt about 30 feet from the runway, lots of white knuckles, and a plane packed full of anxious travelers. After hearing that we had one more chance to land or else we were being diverted, the captain received thunderous applause when he actually put the plane down, albeit clumsily.

As always, we do carry-on only, so we quickly got a cab and arrived at the MGM. We checked in to the MGM easily around 10:30 pm. This was my first time staying at this property, and I'm not sure I'm in a hurry to get back. We were put in a "West Wing" room, which is some sort of code for "ultra-sleek design involving a non-private toilet, non-existent bathroom countertop, and ship-like tight quarters designed to distract you from the fact that this block of rooms has ABSOLUTELY NO VIEW." Hell, we'd paid $69 a night and it was Valentine's Day weekend, President's Day weekend AND a fight weekend at the MGM. I'm pretty sure we're lucky they didn't put us in the maid's closet.

One of the things I love about Vegas is looking out of my hotel windows and seeing the mountains in the distance. It reminds you that, despite the glitz that is Vegas, Nevada still has a tremendous amount of natural beauty if you step outside the city. I barely saw the mountains at all this trip since we had such a crappy room. If I had it to do over, I'd have requested a different room.

We hit the casino late that night and stayed up until about 2:00 am. I really don't remember much of what we did that evening, though I feel certain we lost about $200. I should've known when our flight landed safely and (relatively) on-time that I'd already pressed my luck enough. As usual, I couldn't leave well enough alone.

On Thursday, February 14th, we awoke to beautiful skies, brisk temperatures, and MY BIRTHDAY! We got out around 9:00 and headed over to NY NY. This casino is undergoing renovations, but it's still nice. We ate at the Il Fornaio (sp) cafe, where I had a yummy, fat-laden parfait and a latte. We soon moved to the blackjack tables where I promptly lost about $100. Huh. However, NY NY will "rate" you if you're playing even $5 a hand, so I'd like to think that I'll eventually see some of that $$ back in reduced room rates at other MGM properties. I also began imbibing vodka and grapefruit juice at this point. Perhaps a bit prematurely, but whatever, it was my birthday.

We soon moved to Planet Hollywood, which replaced the former Aladdin. Woooeee, this place is fancy! Planet Hollywood redid the front parts of the shoppes, and it's now white and very sleek. I quickly entered Max Studio and promptly dropped $80 on a silk shirt. Again, it's my birthday. I took my loot and hit the casino. I played slots for a while and stayed constant. Hubby went to the blackjack table and managed to win. Yeah! Once I came over to the blackjack area, he started losing. Eventually, I took hubby's place on the table. I noticed that the table surface said "The Pleasure Pit." Apparently, after 8 pm, dancers mount these little stands and wiggle it to very loud music. The combination of loud music and a grouping of blackjack table was popular at many different casinos, including Flamingo and Harrah's. I don't get it, you can't hear people talk, and it gives me a headache.

Anyway, I played for a long time and embarrassed myself with my tipsy verbal banter. Hubby finally pulled me away as we had tickets to O that night. We grabbed a quick piece of pizza at the MGM before heading over to the Bellagio, and we saw Howie Mandel while we were eating. A minor celebrity for sure, but I'm pretty bad at noticing people, so I felt happy I saw someone famous on a big weekend in Vegas. I later found out that George Clooney and Paris Hilton were in Vegas that weekend as well. I mean, come on! I wish I'd seen George instead.

O was incredible. It's a Cirque Du Soleil water show, and I was mesmerized. We had great seats, about 14 rows from the stage in the center row, and we were on the end. That means that the actor's interacted with us a bit, as they come up and down the aisles several different times. Though it is expensive, I'd highly recommend this show for anyone who wants to pick one show to see in Vegas.

After O, we went back and ordered room service. I fell asleep, exhausted but content.

Friday was spent gambling at the Monte Carlo, which had just reopened that day after being shut down for several weeks due to the fire. Business was slow, but the employees seemed glad to be back. We played for a while and then had lunch at Diablo's, a new place that opened up in front of the Monte Carlo. It's a mexican joint that reminds me of the Pink Taco at Hard Rock. We had some great nachos and margaritas, and it was nice to take a load off.

We tinkered around to several different casinos and played more blackjack. I'm pretty sure we lost again. Dinner that night was at Trader's Vics on the patio, under heat lamps. The food was so-so, but the Bellagio fountain view was great and the company couldn't be beat ;) After dinner, we hit Paris, where I jumped on a $10 blackjack table. With the Italian standing behind me, I quickly started garnering quiet, hateful stares from my tablemates as I won hand after hand after hand. I couldn't lose - for once! I more than doubled my cash and walked away.

Saturday was our last day. We were leaving on a red-eye back that night at midnight, so we had the whole day to kill. We ate at the MGM buffet that morning, and I'm glad we waited until Saturday to use our free meal. The buffet was positively buzzing that morning as it was a fight day. I'm not a boxing fan, but this was apparently the middleweight championship fight between Pavlik-Taylor. There were quite a few "important" folks in the restaurant that morning - now, I'm not sure who they were, but they sure thought they were important.

We checked out at noon and headed down towards the North strip. We ended up playing most of the day at the Mirage, which continues to be the one casino I can rely on for blackjack wins. I was dismayed to see that most of their blackjack tables are continous shuffle, which really sucks for the player. However, we found a few traditional tables and played most of the afternoon, leaving about $400 up. We had dinner at some random restaurant, tinkered away most of our winnings at Paris and the MGM, and then headed for the airport. We didn't time it too well because we were leaving right as the fight ended. The MGM flooded with more people than I thought possible. Fortunately, a very nice porter moved us to the front of the extensive taxi line, and off we went.

I was exhausted and ready to go home. I needed detox. I needed my treadmill. I needed my bed.

Our flight was on time and we arrived home around 7:00 am.

Overall, I was less enthused with Vegas this time than I've been on my prior trips. I didn't win, which is unusual for me, but typical for the average player. I suppose I've had better than average luck until now, and that was bound to run out at some point. I didn't care for the South strip area around the MGM. I much prefer to stay in the Paris/Flamingo area as that area has less junk shops and "porn slappers" shoving naked lady cards in your face. I don't know if I'm in such a hurry to go back. I look at the money we spent that weekend and think "gee, I could've gone to Mexico and laid around a fancy resort all weekend and gotten really relaxed." Instead, I spent half of the next week exhausted and drained.

Nonetheless, it was a good birthday. I really enjoyed O, walking around during the beautiful sunny days and seeing snow covering the Nevada mountains. I was dismayed at some of the changes I saw in the casinos, from switching to continuous shuffle blackjack to the exorbitantly high table limits at most of the places on the strip. A lot has changed since my first ever visit in 2004, and I've seen changes for the worse every year since.

I feel like I've ended on a negative note, but the trip was very fun. We spent part of Saturday evening sitting in the Paris hotel walkway at a cafe, watching dozens of people attending fancy events walk by. Some of the wardrobe choices were questionable, and we had fun making up stories about the people that walked by. People-watching in Vegas simply can't be beat. I think it even surpasses New York. Like I always say, if you can't find a way to have fun in Vegas, you don't know how to have fun.

Oliver wants O-U-T

2008-02-26T19:56:00.003-05:00

Arghhh... itchy!

2008-02-22T10:04:00.001-05:00

I've had a bad reaction to some medication and now I'm itching like a fool. Apparently I'm allergic to minocycline. Who knew?

Please god, please, let the nurse call me back soon.

My reign as the unluckiest flyer ever continues

2008-02-19T10:10:00.002-05:00

The good news: we got to Vegas last Wednesday night.

The bad news: we only arrived after battling 50 MPH wind gusts and an aborted landing.

My reign as the unluckiest flyer ever continues! Seriously, why do I even try to fly to Vegas any more? Each and every flight I've ever taken out there has sucked with a capital "S."

The kicker this time? It seems we used up all our luck on that landing, because getting on that plane was the only gamble we won all weekend. Okay, so that's not entirely true, we did come out ahead at the Mirage (what else is new?) but pretty much donated our winnings to MGM later that same evening.

I'm not really in the proper frame of mind to write a trip report, but when I do the following topics will be covered: Ugly Americans, kilts, the Pleasure Pit, O, and a really embarassing birthday moment.

I bet you can't wait!

Nonstarter

2008-02-13T09:31:00.002-05:00

Tomorrow is my birthday. See that little trip counter down on my page that mentions Vegas? It currently reads less than one day until departure. See, technically we're supposed to leave tonight at 8:00pm and arrive in Vegas at 9:30pm. I looked at weather.com last night and it hit me that neither of these things is likely to happen.

All hell has broken loose in the NE USA. Delays abound, the weather sucks. In my little city, we're overcast with increasing winds all day. In Vegas, they're expecting sustained winds of about 28 MPH when we're set to land. Never mind the gusts, which could reach 50 MPH. Holy mother of shit. My air traffic controller SIL tells me we may be able to land, but it'll be a game time decision.

I don't want to throw a pity party for myself, but I'm sad. I've been looking forward to this little getaway for so long, and a day's delay would pretty much ruin the point of the trip. We only have about 3 days as it is, so one less would mean we'd be running around like crazy and would have no relaxation time. C'est la vie, I suppose.

And, the Italian told me last night he bought tickets to O for my birthday tomorrow night. I hope we make it by then.

I know what I said

2008-02-12T17:09:00.001-05:00

I know I said I wouldn't be back for a while, but I lied. I do that sometimes. Yesterday I was a model of efficiency. This afternoon, I've been a big model of lazy.

There's a mystery woman who pees on the bathroom floor in my office building. I bet that got your attention. Thing is, I'm not lying. She's been caught in the act four times now. She's about 35 years old with long dyed black hair and an average build. Overall, she's very average and doesn't appear homeless. She doesn't work in our building (it's pretty small) and no one has any idea how she arrives, by car or on foot. Four times now, a different co-worker has walked in our eight stall bathroom and found this woman with her pants around her ankles in a full squat, either urinating or (once) defacating. What's your take: mental illness or drug addict?

All I know is this: someone who will squat and piss out in the open will cut me with a knife if confronted. I'm not going to fuck with her.

Switching gears, I've been pensive lately. I'm really trying hard at work to be positive and pro-active. Things are going okay, but in the end I'm not satisfied. I was reading a random blog this afternoon (see? lazy.) and the author is moving to Europe soon from the US. When she told her parents, her father needed to process the info and then told her he was glad she was moving, because she'd just been existing, not LIVING, where she was.

Those words hit like the proverbial thunderbolt. Why hadn't I thought of that before? That's exactly how I feel each day: going through the motions, with no excitement or variation mixed into my days. Since I live and work in the suburbs, my life feels very sterile and intentional. There's no possibility of going out for a walk and getting lost. There's also no true natural beauty in my environment. Now, I am not stupid enough to think the answer to my malaise lies in moving to Europe or some far flung place. I realize the grass is always greener. But I'm moving to the steadfast realization that the answer is also not where I am right now.

Breather

2008-02-12T09:21:00.000-05:00

I haven't been blogging lately and probably won't for another week or so after this post. I've been absolutely slammed lately. Work has been... tough. Interpersonal conflicts are dominating the work landscape. I'm trying hard to work through them, but somedays I just want to give it all up and hang out in my house for a month or so.

After a really hard week of work last week, I found myself hosting 35 people for an engagement party this weekend. It was fun, but I am still totally exhausted. Still, only one wine glass broke, a bowl of sauce got overturned on my hardwoods and a small splatter of red wine ended up on the carpet. Not bad considering the group I had.

My birthday is this Thursday. Yes, I'm a Valentine's baby. No, I'm not really sweet. I'll be 31, and that pisses me off. But whatever. I'm going to Vegas tomorrow night for my birthday. We return on the redeye Sunday morning around 7am.

I could talk about so much more, but I can't find the energy.

Why didn't I think of this before?

2008-02-05T18:16:00.000-05:00

Why, oh why, didn't this occur to me before? Many people have done this before me, but I feel as if I have discovered some deeply guarded secret to happiness. It's name? Happiness, thy name is MAID SERVICE.

We had a maid come today for the first time. When I entered my house (or oasis) at 6:02 PM, I smelled the lovely scent of pine. My hardwoods, they shone. My stainless steel cooktop, it glimmered. My bathroom? There isn't an appropriate adjective.

Whatever I have to do to keep this up, I'm doing it. Bi-weekly maid service, I must have it. I'll drive a crappy car if I have to. I just don't care.

We're hosting an engagement party this weekend for my brother-in-law and his new fiancee. The maid was hired to clean before the party because we finally admitted that we don't have the time or energy. I can literally FEEL the stress lift off my shoulders when I think of how much more time I have to concentrate on work and the party. Now, the party might actually be FUN!

How did I ever live before? (okay, a little dramatic, but still...)

If you already know the answer, why even ask someone else's opinion?

2008-02-04T14:21:00.000-05:00

Since travel is a passion of mine, I frequent a few different travel message boards related to my favorite destinations. Most posters are really nice and have genuine questions or answers to said questions. For those folks, I patiently answer their questions and move along. The minority, about 10%, are just a pain the ass.

Like the people who make 10 separate threads asking about 10 separate villas. Things like "Villa Extravaganza: construction noise?" and "Villa Spirulina: construction noise?". Days go by, no one answers. Inevitably, when you nicely respond that they would be best served to call the rental agency and inquire about these properties, they say something like "I know, but I'm just hopeful someone can tell me something." Hm. I think the rental agencies CAN tell you something. They're not in the business of lying about construction noise because an unhappy customer is a squeaky wheel. These are people I hope I don't have the misfortune of sitting next to on a beach.

Then, there are the folks who inquire if anyone can tell them of a place to stay for a few nights. Something clean and comfortable like Guesthouse X, who they've called and gotten a quote from. Oh, and does anyone know anything about Guesthouse X? So, when I respond and give them some alternate suggestions (which they asked for) and then proceed to tell them that I've never stayed at Guesthouse X, but the reviews on trip advisor aren't great and they should really check those out, they respond "I'm looking for reviews from people who've stayed there." DUH, assholes. For the FORTIETH TIME, LOOK AT TRIP ADVISOR! Despite some stupid reviews, it is hands down the best place for hotel reviews if you can read through the lines and separate picky travelers from ones like yourself.

I'm going to take a break from stupid people.

Oh, and I brought a "fun mix" of Valentine's Skittles and Starburst into my office, and I'll be damned if some asshole hasn't eaten all of my Skittles and left the Starburst. I'm gonna have to kill somebody for denying me my Skittles.

Oh and Oh - We've got a maid coming tomorrow! Yeah! Now I just have to clean my house before the maid comes. You think that's crazy? So do I, but apparently your house has to be in some sort of order for the maid to do her job. I want to move back in to a very small apartment right now.

Winter is an asshole

2008-02-01T13:34:00.000-05:00

I'm officially over it. I don't want to feel crisp air on my skin, have cozy nights wrapped up on blankets or eat hearty soups any more. I want strawberries, tank tops and outdoor dining. Oh, and flip-flops.

The wind is blowing something fierce today and the sky looks, well, melancholy. It's neither rainy nor sunny. Large, grey puffy clouds are blowing by quickly and peeks of blue poke through. Not unattractive, but there aren't enough sun peeks to warm it up out there either.

I said "peek." Twice.

I'm glad it's Friday. I'll be working all day tomorrow on CLIO. We're going to a really dorky bead show and I'm excited. Then, at 4:00pm we meet with a contact about designing some jewelry for a new day spa that's opening in my area. What he wants will be a bit of a challenge, so that's exciting.

Oliver the cat fell in the bathtub again last night. That cat has an issue with water. He's obsessed with it and but doesn't seem to realize he HATES it until he is actually IN it. Oh well, at least I know he can get himself out of a half-full bathtub by himself. Oopsie.

Regret

2008-01-31T14:28:00.000-05:00

I have a problem with regret. Like Catholics with guilt, regrets haunt me almost daily. On my mind today is my regret at going to law school. You know how some people have a mastery of their careers and when questioned, they can fire off information? I'm like that, only the exact opposite. I can't remember shit.

See, I have a terrible long-term memory when it comes to stuff that doesn't impact me daily. On the other hand, I also have the entire bank of knowledge from Trivial Pursuit Pop Culture Edition in my head, so that kind of goes against what I just said. Okay, so I don't remember things when I simply don't CARE enough. You beat it out of me. Happy now?

So it goes that a couple of weekends ago a friend was discussing Roe v. Wade. He was going on and on about what the case actually says, and despite the fact that I studied the case intently in law school and used to know it really well, I couldn't recall if he was correct or not. I had a sneaking suspicion he wasn't correct, but what the hell was I going to counter him with?

I'll often get asked a legal question from family or friends, and I really can't answer the question without looking information up. Sometimes that "information" is basic legal terminology that I used to know really well. I then start to think I have some sort of brain tumor that's robbing my memory, but then I remember that I've always been like this.

Today at lunch I was explaining a concept to someone and I forget to use the legal term "waiver." Another lawyer filled it in for me (she wasn't being ugly, she just helped me along).

Somedays I feel like a fake lawyer. I suspect because I haven't been doing this long enough, but what if I always feel this way?

Ah, self-doubt and regret. What a fucking combination!

On a similar, but topically unrelated note, I'm also having regrets about upcoming vacations. We're going to Vegas in two weeks, but I'm starting to wish we'd chosen somewhere warm. I'm itching to release my toes from their winter shoes. My skin is dry. And I really want to feel the warmth of sun on my skin.

We've got a trip to Costa Rica planned for May. I guess I'm excited to try somewhere new, but I keep inventing reasons to put off booking a hotel for two of our three locations. I'm really indecisive on the whole thing, and I think it's because I look at the logistics and just lose patience.

And underneath it all, I kind of regret that we're not going back to St. John. See, there it is again! The ugly spectre of regret.

Ugh, damn it all. I'm going to go back to being a subpar lawyer now.

Looking forward to Prozac

2008-01-30T10:20:00.000-05:00

Results were released yesterday from a study that measured happiness and depression in eighty countries around the world. People were survyed, and the results tallied by country. In the US, people reported 44 as being their most unhappy age, regardless of financial status, marital status or overall place in life. Wow, what a lot to look forward to.

I'm surprised at this because, at age 30, things seem so damn HARD some days. I've got so much to prove at my job and I feel as if my youth hampers success. We're constantly stressing and straining to build a life for ourselves, to begin paying off the house, the cars, the student loans. It's an uphill battle. One that I'd hoped would be mostly over by the time I was 44. To me, a large part of happiness is financial independence. Maybe I'm wrong?

Those that were married reported being happier in general than those not married. However, those without children reported being happier than those with children. Now, the study didn't say whether those who were married/partnered with children were any happier than those un-partnered folks with children, but it gives me pause. Many people with children tell me how great it is, but most of those people have young children or adult children without problems. Those who have strained relationships with their kids or kids who've battled substance abuse/eating disorders/etc often tell me to "think about it hard and long before you have kids."

In the end, I guess it all comes down to your individual experiences. And sometimes we don't get to choose those experiences.

This study upsets me because I'd always looked toward my mid-forties as a sort of prime in my life. You're old enough that people take you seriously, but you still feel and look pretty young. If you've been a little saver, you have a decent amount of financial independence. Kids are getting older and your freedom is returning. Sure, life's probably halfway over, but if you haven't come to grips with the fact that "we've all gotta go sometime" by 44, I think you've been deluding yourself. I don't know, it's always sounded pretty good to me.

My sister is 40, and she seems better than she was at 35. The Italian's sisters are both in their early 40s, and though they've both had tough relationship issues, each seems to have a sure idea of what she wants and is going for it. I'm trying to enjoy my 30s, but standing at the front-end of the decade, it seems pretty hard. I've got a lot of work to do in the next 10 years. Having kids (or not) - either way it's going to be difficult. Saving money while still trying to travel, buy furniture and pay off a house - more tough. Building a career and name for myself in my chosen field (or figuring out what my chosen field even IS) - tough, tough, tough.

In the end, is it all even necessary? I've been asking myself this a lot lately. Part of my wants to "opt-out" of the traditional American life. I'm always reminded of a cheesy, but apt, parable about the businessman and the fisherman:
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"A few years ago, a very rich businessman decides to take a vacation to a small tropical island in the South Pacific. He has worked hard all his life and has decided that now is the time to enjoy the fruits of his labor. He is excited about visiting the island because he’s heard that there is incredible fishing there. He loved fishing as a young boy, but hasn’t gone in years because he has been so busy working to save for his retirement.

So on the first day, he has his breakfast and heads to the beach. It’s around 9:30 am. There he spots a fisherman coming in with a large bucket full of fish!

“How long did you fish for?” he asks. The fisherman looks at the businessman with a wide grin across his face and explains that the fishes for about three hours every day. The businessman then asks him why he returned so quickly.

“Don’t worry”, says the fisherman, “There’s still plenty of fish out there.”

Dumbfounded, the businessman asks the fisherman why he didn’t continue catching more fish. The fisherman patiently explains that what he caught is all he needs. “I’ll spend the rest of the day playing with my family, talking with my friends and maybe drinking a little wine. After that I’ll relax on the beach.”

Now the rich businessman figures he needs to teach this peasant fisherman a thing or two. So he explains to him that he should stay out all day and catch more fish. Then he could save up the extra money he makes and buy and even bigger boats to catch even more fish. The he could keep reinvesting his profits in even more boats and hire many other fisherman to work for him. If he works really hard, in 20 or 30 years he’ll be a very rich man indeed.

The businessman feels pleased that he’s helped teach this simple fellow how to become rich. Then the fisherman looks at the businessman with a puzzled look on his face and asks what he’ll do after he becomes very rich.

The businessman responds quickly “You can spend time with your family, talk with your friends, and maybe drink a little wine. Or you could just relax on the beach.”
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Why work so hard to accomplish something that I could do right now, if I was willing to live on less? Is this American way of life too ingrained within me?

Boobs

2008-01-29T15:33:00.000-05:00

I have a guilty pleasure. It's "The Girl's Next Door" on E! For some reason, plastic Playboy girls are entertaining. If you're a man who likes women, you've probably got a different sort of entertainment in mind than me. I digress. I find myself sucked in to this show each and every time I turn it on. I really wanted to hate this show, but I can't. Two reruns were on last night and there I sat again, transfixed for the better part of an hour.

Why do I care that Bridget's dog Wednesday has a modeling contract? Oh god, I know all the names!

I felt a little shame about this until I spoke to my friend Paige. Paige is a pretty hardcore feminist. She doesn't wear make-up and I'm pretty sure I've never seen even a hint of her cleavage. Over dinner a couple of weeks ago, she admitted that she watches the show and L-O-V-E-S it. Which is really funny. This is the girl who looked as if she'd landed on Mars when I took her into Sephora. She really didn't know what to do. Those were good times.

Anyway, so I love this damn show. My husband, on the other hand, hates it. Oh sure, he admits to loving the bouncing boobs and all, but it's the talking that gets to him. He can't stand Kendra, and he says the boobs don't make up for how annoying she is. He'd rather have no boobs on TV than have to listen to that boob talk. For this I do love him.

I still make him watch the show from time to time, just to get on his nerves. My TV and music tastes can be pretty low-brow, and I enjoy horrifying him with my choices. What can I say? I'm pretty serious in other areas of my life, so entertainment should be just what it claims to be - entertaining.

Oh, you again

2008-01-29T13:13:00.000-05:00

You know the old expression "spring out of bed"? I do the opposite. I cling to my bed like it's a life raft beside a ship going down.

I can't get out of bed in the morning. I'm getting plenty of sleep, but I just don't greet the day with enthusiam. That being said, I'm happy to wake up and get on with things on Saturday and Sunday. It's the M-F part where I'm facing difficulties.

I don't know if it's just my job. Truthfully, I'm a little bored. My job, while difficult at times, is no longer hard. I am trained in what I do day to day, and it's all pretty routine at this point. That may be the problem. Maybe I need to shake things up by asking for new types of assignments.

Starting back on the jewelry should be good. Getting the creative juices flowing again is always good for the mind.

As usual, I'm a little late to the party

2008-01-28T14:19:00.000-05:00

The Italian and I joined Facebook last night. Yes, we're years behind the times. We both finally figured it was time, since it's a great place to keep up with former business friends and classmates. It's crazy how people have come out of the woodwork less than 24 hours since I joined. A person that was once a good friend of mine, but then did something pretty fucked up to me, added me as a "friend" today. It's kind of weird. Oh well, I guess we were only 20 at the time. We're all stupid when we're 20, right?

Introducing CLIO

2008-01-27T23:15:00.000-05:00

I've been decent at keeping things anon up to this point. I think I'm going to lighten up on that a bit. I have a few reasons for this. First, I thought I would spend time on this blog writing about work. I really haven't done that too often. But, what I have said I either have to delete, edit, or password-protect. Since I'm not really dishing about my job (it's too boring and predictable), I feel like there's no driving reason to keep this blog completely anon.

I will still continue to write about the issues I face in my workplace. Being a woman attorney in a very male dominated industry (real estate) has its challenges, and I don't think there's any harm in discussing those concerns intellectually.

Second, I've now got this jewelry business, and we're starting to pick up the pace on it again. Our etsy site is finally up and running, and I want to share this with my blog readers. I'm hoping that my company, called CLIO, will get greater exposure that way.

In the future, we hope to have our own URL, but for right now we're running through etsy. We also want to showcase our goods in some small stores, so if anyone knows anyone who knows anyone... I'd love to hear.

I really need to find a way to get my goods sold in the Caribbean. That way, I'd have tax-deductible business trips to paradise. Wouldn't that be nice?

Okay, my first attempt at lifting the cloak, my etsy store: CLIO Designs

Enjoy, and I love to hear what people think. I see you readers - I know you're out there!

Missing

2008-01-25T21:01:00.000-05:00

Since my pseudonym is "Island Chica," it's obvious that I have an interest in de ilons. As I've written about before, my interest is specifically in the Caribbean, which is a region I generally adore, warts and all. On St. Martin, an island I've visited five times, an American woman by the name of Leta Lynn Cordes is missing. I don't know what I really hope to achieve by blogging about this, but I'm sad for her family that there hasn't been a resolution. She was walking alone at night to a casino, from a house that she OWNED (read: an experienced visitor), in an area of the island that I find particularly creepy.

Whenever I read about a missing woman, I always think about Kristin Modaferri, a classmate of mine who disappeared in San Francisco when she was 18. I knew Kristin in high school. Not particularly well, but we were on the debate team together and she was friends with one of my high school boyfriends. I remember her coming over to my house once to hang out. She was in San Fran for the summer, working in a coffee shop in a populated area. One day she left work and was never heard from again. Poof - gone. It's been over ten years. What hell.

I was almost attacked/abducted when I was seventeen. I've blogged about this before, so I feel a special connection to women who go missing. That could have been me. That REALLY could have been me. Luckily, my would-be attacker was hesitant, or maybe I was too fast, had too much of a lead on him as I ran out a parking garage.

The experience changed me. I don't go out by myself much at night anymore. Even to the grocery store. Is that sad? You damn well bet it is, but it's the way of our world. I hate that I can't go running on a trail by myself, but I really don't think it's smart to do so. So I don't.

It's amazing when you consider how many missing adults there are in the US. There are almost 51,000 missing adults. Can you imagine? Without a doubt, many of these people just don't want to be found. Others lead high risk lifestyles, whether they are homeless, drug addicts or prostitutes. Then, there are those who got in a car accident. Maybe drove into a lake or dense brush. Maybe fell while hiking. They might never be found.

I don't think Ms. Cordes falls into any of the above categories. Did she do the smartest thing by walking alone on a lonely road at night? No, but many more have done much, much worse and no harm befell them. What I find amazing is that there is no trace of her on that small island. St. Martin isn't miniscule, but it's pretty small. It just doesn't make sense that there's been no trace whatsoever.

We all remember Natalee Holloway. Oh, how I sympathized with that girl. God, the dumb things I did as an 18-year old. The guys I went home with, the shady places I frequented, the untrustworthy people I trusted. I was lucky. She was not. I've been to Aruba twice, and I still love the island. I just went last year, with girlfriends nontheless. All those talks of a boycott were dumb. We all know what happened to that girl, and it wasn't the fault of the Aruban people.

Anyway, I guess my point is that I just don't see a media frenzy about this case. Frankly, I'm surprised. Ms. Cordes isn't young (late 40s if memory serves), but she's an attractive California blonde. The type that makes headlines, I would think. I hope the case doesn't get brushed under the carpet. I hope she's found. I hope one more island paradise that I love isn't tarnished by the acts of one criminal.

I hope they find her.

The argument against watching murder shows before bedtime

2008-01-25T12:45:00.000-05:00

I'm addicted to shows like The First 48, Cold Case Files (the A&E non-fiction version, not the drama), American Justice, etc. If someone has been murdered (for real, not as part of a plot line), I'm totally there. It's the part of me that always wanted to be a criminal lawyer. What can I say? I don't mind gore.

(Note: Unless it involves animals, and then all bets are off. Don't know why, but I can't stand to hear of a cat or dog or horse, etc dying, but humans? Eh. I think it's because we have the capacity to think, and *most* people murdered on these shows actively did something that caused their murder. Most, but not all.)

I digress. Anyway, after a marathon night of watching three episodes of The First 48 in a row, I fell asleep to the Justice Files, or something similar. What a fucking mistake. I had a series of messed up dreams last night.

First I dreamed that I was pulling out of a parking garage and a car zoomed around me and pulled out in front of me to beat a yellow light on the main road. Only problem was, he didn't see the car stopped at the light already. I pulled out and came upon a fresh crash scene. The stopped car was okay, but the guy who pulled out around me was dead. His truck was literally standing on it's front end. Nevermind that the physics involved don't make sense. It was still pretty fucked up.

Then, I dreamed that I had open heart surgery. I don't know why, but I did and I was afraid to look at the incision. Zach Braff was there too. I think that comes from watching too many reruns of Scrubs. I don't really know, but really, WTF?

I'm going to watch an episode of Vagina Power with Alexysssss Taylor (however you spell it, she's a hot bitch) tonight before bed and see what kind of dreams result from that. Don't know what "Vagina Power" is? Oooh, girl, you're missin' out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AaoRUOYEEfs

You can thank me later. Or, hate me later. It's up to you.

Itchy

2008-01-24T15:42:00.000-05:00

I'm getting all itchy again to blow this popsicle stand. Not my job specifically (not today anyway), but this city. I want to board a great big jet plane and fly off, preferably to somewhere warm with sand and blue water. Alas, it's not to be. We're going to Vegas for a quick trip in about 20 days, so that's exciting, but it's not warm, it's not peaceful (unless you count the $140 massages you can purchase at a spa) and it's not tropical.

I'm sure I sound spoiled. If so, that's a fair categorization. Still, have you ever wanted to just drive yourself to an airport, pick out a place, and go? I've never done something even remotely that spontaneous, and I probably won't until I get older and vacation time isn't as much of an issue. If we're going to have kids, I guess that sort of cuts down on the spontaneity, huh?

I read an article recently about an older couple killed by a (presumed to be) serial killer. This guy apparently has killed several hikers, and is suspected of god knows how many other murders. It's a horrible story, but the article was about how these people lived, not how they died. This couple, in their late 70s, were still avid hikers and travelers. One neighbor stated that they always kept travel bags packed, as they would buy airline tickets on sale at the last minute and fly off on a day's notice to wherever they could get good tickets. What an exciting way to spend your later years.

The divorce situation with the Italian's sister really has him on edge. He asked me last night if I was happy, and made me promise that I would tell him if I ever wasn't. He doesn't want to get 15 years down the line and find himself with someone who doesn't love him. And neither do I.

I think it's important that couples grow together and develop common interests, though keeping your own interests intact is obviously important too. The Italian knows I love to travel, and he asked "do we go enough places to keep you happy?" Of course we do, because we go to all the places we can afford to go with limited time and money. It was really a very sweet moment (on the heels of me being a bitch b/c he kept asking after the damn Advil. I don't know where it is, dammit).

Anyway, my whole point is that doing things that seem ridiculous or impractical (like flying away at a moment's notice when you're 70) is what keeps relationships alive. We all want a little bit of the ridiculous from time-to-time, and shouldn't we indulge our spouse? If my brother-in-law had been a little less practical along the way, if they'd ended up with twenty thousand left in savings because of some ridiculous trip or hobby, would it have made a difference? Would their marriage be intact? Was that extra money really worth the price of his marriage?

All I know is that I look forward to growing old with my husband, and flying off with my husband on a moment's notice, whether we're 35 or 75.

For the love of God

2008-01-23T22:00:00.000-05:00

What a week. I've had a hard time concentrating enough to write an actual post, but what's new lately? I'm fresh out of funny. The Italian's sister has announced that she is separating from her husband of 15+ years. We (as in my husband and I) knew it was coming, because the Italian is his sister's greatest confidante. No one else in the Italian's large family knew. My husband has been on the phone with another sibling for the past hour or two, discussing the news. Apparently, feelings are hurt because no one had warning. Jesus.

I just think it's sad.

I'm having a really hard time being motivated at work lately. I'm bored and I am tired of doing the same thing day in and out. I also had a racist incident in a closing today. Several of the involved parties, including another lawyer, were discussing how our city sucks because when you look around on the highway, no one in the car behind you, in front of you, whatever, "looks like me, if you know what I mean." I felt like saying, "if you mean they don't look like fat, pugnacious assholes, then yes, I know what you mean." But alas, he meant they aren't white. Not southern. Not christian.

I need to get out of the south.

Okay, here's something kinda funny. My friends in Raleigh are teaching their toddler to use anatomically correct terms. So, over the weekend their two-year old son yells into the kitchen: "Daddy, where's your penis?" Daddy replies: "uh, it's in my pants." This is from the same kid who asked his babysitter if her nose stud was a nipple.

Love him.

The concept of home

2008-01-18T09:23:00.000-05:00

My husband doesn't understand the concept of feeling like you're "home" in one place versus another. To him, home is where you live. To me, it's more of a state of mind. I've lived in my current city since 1999, but I can't claim that it's home. It's more of a habit, really. I'm surprised at how easy it's been to just ease into life here. I always say I don't like this place, and by and large I don't. But the longer we stay, the harder it is for me to leave. We've got good jobs, a network so that we'll always have jobs, a house, friends, etc.

Except I really don't feel like I'm home when I'm here. I always feel like a visitor.

This weekend we're going to North Carolina, where I was raised and lived until I was twenty-two. Going to NC is always hard for me. I tend to get all weepy and nostalgic when I'm there. I don't know if it's because I'm comfortable there. I miss the accents. Sometimes, I listen to John Edwards speak just because he sounds like all of the people I grew up around. And really, that is the only reason I listen to his stump speeches.

ASIDE: Seriously, if I hear John Edwards talk about the mills and his grandma one more time, I'm going to bust through my TV and throttle him. It's not that it's a bad message, but it doesn't have to be your ONLY message!

Back to my post now. I'm excited to go back to NC this weekend, but I haven't been back in a while. Sometimes when I visit, I feel like I've outgrown Raleigh, like its too backward and un-sophisticated after living in a huge city for years. In some ways, it is. I've become very liberal in my thoughts about sexuality and race since my early 20s. Basically, I just don't care. You can be who you want, sleep with who you want, and be any color and I think the same of you - so long as you're a decent human being. I don't think those ideas are typical for the average North Carolinian (Charlotte excepted).

However, there is just something about the area that typtifies "home" for me. Oddly, there are places I visit that also feel like home. When I go to St. John or St. Martin, I feel pleasantly comfortable. I felt that way almost immediately upon my arrival in those places for the first time. I didn't feel that way in other places, like Maui or England or Aruba. I don't know why, but those places didn't feel right to me.

I wonder what makes some places feel like home, even if you've never lived there? Is it more your state of mind when you're in those places, or they memories you have of a certain place?

White stuff, white stuff!

2008-01-16T18:19:00.001-05:00

We have snow!

Procrastina --- wait, I need to do something before I finish this title

2008-01-15T22:37:00.000-05:00

I am the world's greatest procrastinator. Seriously, if you wanted to learn how to procrastinate, come find me. I'll teach you how. First you'll have to get me to sit down and focus though. Ah, therein lies the rub.

I can waste more time at work than any other human being alive. I am truly amazed that I managed to graduate high school, graduate college, and then convince a law school to let me attend, nevermind the fact that they gave me some money for doing so. Then, I passed the bar exam too. On my first try.

See, here's the thing. I procrastinate to no end, but when the shit starts hitting the fan, I put my tail in gear and come through. Luckily, I've been smart enough and clever enough to get by on last minute preparation. I have a feeling this streak won't last forever.

How do you break the habit of being a procrastinator? Telling me to get my ass moving on a miserable assignment is like trying to tell a heroin addict to take that silly needle out of his vein. It ain't happening. But in the end, putting things off just stresses me out more, and I know this. If I'd started working on an assignment earlier, I would have seen the problems ahead of time and they could have been worked out. Now, because I waited so long, common problems become "emergencies." It sucks and it's illogical.

Is it just laziness on my part, or is there something else behind procrastination? We all do it to some extent (okay, not the Italian, but he has a freakish energy level), and I wonder if it's about control. You can't control so many things in your environment, but you can control when YOU choose to start an assignment given to you by a boss or a client. Of course, like all ill-formed logic, this reasonsing doesn't pass the common sense test. Because by procrastinating, you're assuring you WON'T have control at the end when all hell breaks loose because you decided to procrastinate. Hey, at least it was YOUR pile of shit, right?

I procrastinate drying the dishes each and every night. I hate it. Tonight, after the Italian finishing washing the pots and pans (for the smartasses out there, YES, we do have a dishwasher, but we have nice pans so we wash those by hand), he asked me to dry them. This happens every night, and I usually wait until they air dry and put them up. This gets on his nerves to no end. I was called out: "why are you trying to get out of drying the dishes again?" I admitted my problem, and I picked up the towel.

You know what, it felt a lot better to put those dishes away at 7:45 and be done with them. Usually, I'm still worrying about them come bedtime. As the Italian constantly reminds me, there is not a little dish fairy that comes through and puts all the pots and pans up. Well, there is, but it's him and he prefers I don't call him a fairy. Fairies don't usually have hair on their chests.

So what's YOUR biggest character flaw? And how do I get past mine?

Au revoir cojones

2008-01-15T09:59:00.000-05:00

Our kitten had a monumental day yesterday: he was neutered. It was surprisingly quick, and a much better recovery than females when they are spayed. Still, I had to feel for him last night when I saw him licking the area. I mean, that tongue is like sandpaper and that had to hurt, right? Poor guy. At least it's over with now.

However, he tried to climb the door frame this morning. I don't think they took the kitten crazies out of him, just the cojones.

Update on my list

2008-01-13T14:19:00.000-05:00

New reader Poppy (welcome!) commented on my anti-resolution resolutions, and I was reminded that my update post hadn't happened yet. Okay, so I lost steam in creating 31 things to do in my 31st year. I did, however, come up with 16. So, I think I'm going to stick with 16. Does that make me a quitter before I even started? Perhaps. But I don't care, it's my list so deal with it.

Here's an update on my progress thus far:

16 Things in my 31st Year:

1. Run a 10K: I've actually researched this one and I've got an early March race that I think I'm going to do. The Italian wants to run with me, so yeah!

2. Do the zipline in Costa Rica in May: Trying to get up the courage for this one. I'm going to at least try.

3. Decorate our bedroom: Ohhh, making progress. We've got new bedding, new lampshades and have painted our bedside tables. Next up is painting the room, finding a dresser and some wall art. I LOVE my new bedding though. We went with a color that Restoration Hardware calls Silver Sage. We didn't buy RH bedding though - that stuff is crazy expensive.

4. Try a Bikram Yoga class: Um, not yet.

5. Research how to get your writing published and attempt to write an article or book chapter: Again, a nonstarter thus far.

6. Hire a maid: Still trying to cut #10 a bit before I address this one. Ironically, I have to clean the house when I finish typing this post. Think about it, people, you'd have better posts if only I didn't have to clean!

7. Go to St. John (even if pregnant), hike Ram's Head and snorkel Salt Pond: Trip booked for October 2008, thanks to FF miles. Also have invited friends so this may be a really great trip. Italian and I have discussed turning this into a procreation vacation. Hehe.

8. Find a damn donkey on St. John (there is history behind this one): We won't know until October.

9. Add 3 new recipes to my regular arsenal: I've added one, a Cooking Light recipe for Linguine with tomatoes and leeks. It was really good. I'm going to try a new one tonight too.

10. Cut our monthly expenses by $500 (this may conflict with #6): We found a way to cut our car insurance by $30 a month, and are probably selling my car (a very expensive convertible BMW) in favor of a Honda Accord. Boring, but we wouldn't have a car payment.

11. Make a profit on my jewelry business: On hold. My partner and I are turning back to this in February.

12. Learn how to take good pictures: I still suck at it.

13. Don't pay for any sizeable purchase on credit. We're starting 2008 debt-free, and I want to keep it that way: Still hanging tight.

14. Take a flight without xanax: No flights since I made this list. I've got a trip to Vegas coming up in February, but I don't think I'm going to try this then. A flight back from Vegas is the reason I started taking anxiety meds while flying in the first place.

15. Keep up with my time entry at work on a regular, weekly basis: Doing much, much better, though I can't say I've been perfect. But I am a LOT better. I intend to keep it up.

16. Stop drinking diet soda every day: shit, this one is hard. I'm addicted, I tell you. I need to stop.

So, when are you going to...

2008-01-10T10:11:00.000-05:00

It happened again yesterday. I got dinged. This happens to me on average two times a week. I'm having a perfectly normal phone conversation with a female lawyer at another firm (who happens to be pregnant), and I politely inquire how everything's going. She says great, and then it happens. "So," she begins slyly, "when are you going to have a baby of your own?" DING!

People, stay out of my uterus. It's none of your business.

Baby, it's cold outside

2008-01-02T17:43:00.000-05:00

I like Canadians. I like Mid-Westerners. But when it comes to weather, you folks are certifiable. It's 26 degrees here today, but with the gusting wind, it feels like 16 degrees. I'm miserable, even in my long, heavy coat. How do people live in frigid climates? How?

Random Thought

2008-01-02T07:58:00.000-05:00

The Italian and I often wonder whether anything we do or say is original. We'll be talking, and one of us will say some completely offhand remark, usually related to an offhand topic. I wish I could think of an example, but it's early and my memory isn't up to snuff yet. Anyway, when that happens, we'll wonder whether or not that exact same sentence has ever been said before by anyone in the history of the world.

I wondered something similar last night when I was at the grocery. My cart is a weird mix of carnivore and vegan. You've got soy milk and soy sausages, alongside expensive Greek yogurt and boneless chicken thighs. Then there's hummus, grapefruit, broccoli and beans. Zucchini, ice pops, basmati rice and lots of canned tomatoes. Oh, and tampons. It's a weird basket. I think the suburbanite moms with their mountains of pre-packaged, processed food look confused when they see me unload. Where are the Dorito's, frozen pizzas and Lean Cuisines? It's not a judgment, but an accurate observation.

Anyway, as I was unloading my strange basket, I wondered whether or not anyone in the history of the world has picked up the exact same groceries before? Probably not, just because we have so many choices and the combinations are seemingly limitless. It's nice to know some things we do might be original.

Anti-New Year's Resolution Resolutions

2008-01-01T22:03:00.000-05:00

In general, I don't make New Year's resolutions. I understand why people do it, because there is something very nice about starting fresh. A new year is a nice, identifiable starting point. However, I still stand by my initial statement that I DON'T MAKE NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS. I am, however, going to do something very hokey. And I don't care.

Here's the deal. I turn 31 in February. At this time next year, I will likely be pregnant. Seeing as this is probably my last full year all by myself, I'm going to do some things for myself. I'm making a list called 31 things to do in my 31st year. I by no means think your life completely stops when you have kids, but it does change and make things more difficult. Priorities shift. So, why I am still relatively high on my priority list, I'm going to take care of doing some things I've always wanted to do.

I've got 15 so far. I plan on having a complete list in the coming weeks. Here goes:

31 Things in my 31st Year:

1. Run a 10K
2. Do the zipline in Costa Rica in May
3. Decorate our bedroom
4. Try a Bikram Yoga class
5. Research how to get your writing published and attempt to write an article or book chapter
6. Hire a maid
7. Go to St. John (even if pregnant), hike Ram's Head and snorkel Salt Pond
8. Find a damn donkey on St. John (there is history behind this one)
9. Add 3 new recipes to my regular arsenal
10. Cut our monthly expenses by $500 (this may conflict with #6)
11. Make a profit on my jewelry business
12. Learn how to take good pictures
13. Don't pay for any sizeable purchase on credit. We're starting 2008 debt-free, and I want to keep it that way.
14. Take a flight without xanax.
15. Keep up with my time entry at work on a regular, weekly basis.
16. Stop drinking diet soda every day.

I can't wait to see what else I come up with. I'm going to tackle one or two of these things in the next few weeks.

Clean

2007-12-31T12:07:00.001-05:00

I just read my last blog entry. What a disaster. That's what a small dose of Ambien does to me. It apparently turns me into a cussing sailor and a complete random idiot. I didn't go to bed until 3:00 a.m. that night. Stupid daytime naps, they mess me up.

Happy New Year to everyone out there! 2007 was a so-so year. I'm hoping 2008 is better. In general, I don't like New Year's Eve because it's expensive and never lives up to the hype. This will likely be the last New Year's I spend without children or a pregnancy. What a weird thought. I'm having lots of champagne.

Ever since 2003, I always approach a new year with a bit of hesitancy. In 2002, I was married and I started law school. I had an awesome honeymoon. I got promoted at my job (right before I left, but still). I won a trip to St. Martin. 2002 was a great year. Then, 2003 happened. My dad entered the hospital on February 13, 2003 (the day before my birthday) and died on March 15, 2003. I'd been married less than a year. I was 25. Let me tell you, the death of a parent combined with the first year of law school puts the strain on even the tightest of relationships. It was a tough time.

My parents had just moved to coastal Alabama, where my father really wanted to live. After a very stress-filled life (much of it self-imposed), he died less than six months after he retired and reached his dream of moving back "home." He was 65. It will be five years ago this March that he died. For some reason, I thought about his death while I was in the shower this morning.

I remembered going in to have a moment with him right before we disconnected the ventilator. My dad had open heart surgery in February, sometime around the 17th. He had a brief rebound, but it quickly became evident that his heart problems were to0 extensive. There would be no miracle. Because I was in law school in Georgia, I really couldn't be by his side because I'd miss too much class. If you miss more than a certain number of days, you just have to start over. My dad didn't want that. "Stay in school," my dad insisted. So I did.

When it became clear his death was inevitable, my husband and I drove down to AL in March. I walked in to his ICU room and he looked so small. His muscles had atrophied. His legs were moving rapidly as if he were peddling an invisible bicycle. He was unconscious, and had been for some time. It was hell. I fled the room and sobbed. I was scared of him. Scared to go in that room and see how sick he was, how helpless we were. I felt truly, deeply bad for my mom and guilty that I hadn't been there for that past month. Guilty that we'd lied to him, telling him he would be fine. We didn't know how sick he was or that he had a heart defect. We didn't know.

When I went in to speak to my dad on the day he died, he was unconscious, as usual. His body was filled with a toxic stew as his kidneys had ceased to work. I said something like "I'm sorry. I'm sorry we didn't get more time to know each other." I might have told him "I love you," but I honestly don't remember. It was quick and I've blocked it out. Though unconscious, he started flailing violently when I spoke those words. I think he heard me. Did I scare him? Did he know he was going to die? That haunts me, with a sadness so raw and profound I feel like it's happening all over again as I type this.

Those last moments alone with him are what I remembered this morning in the shower. I was filled with an overwhelming sadness. I felt sick to my stomach. I haven't remembered that in so long. Why this morning, as a new year, a new page, is about to begin? Or is that precisely why? So I don't forget, so I take that with me into the new year?

I finished my shower and got out. I'm at work. I've had a productive morning, but the memory still haunts me.

I think it always will.

I'm up late

2007-12-30T00:15:00.000-05:00

Up late tonight. This rarely happens. I'm typically in bed before midnight, even on a weekend night. We lead a very quiet life. But, I took a nap from 3-5 this afternoon and - surprise - I'm not tired. I took an Ambien. We'll see how it goes.

I'm really excited about our aforementioned Vegas vacay. In a way, Vegas is everything I hate about America, what with the excess, the commercialism, and the fake titties. But, Vegas is also everything I love about America, provided one doesn't take it too seriously. I think Vegas is pure kitsch and there is no other place on the planet quite like it. I missed going in 2007 for the first time in years, but I'm back for '08, bitches!

I do like to gamble. I admit that freely. Though technically a female, my friends have threated to take my girl-card away for refusing to shop when I had a really good run going at a blackjack table. "Keep your phones on," I said. "I'll call you later." Two hours later, I did call. What can I say, $500 is a healthy take for my low limits ass.

We'll be there for my 31st birthday. Yikes. I don't like that number. 31, you say? Shouldn't I have kids or something? I'm thinking one may be born when I'm 32. That sounds right. Or maybe 33. We'll see. The good news? I look better at 31 than I did at 21. Can we say "BOO" to beer binges in college that led to massive bloat and marathon midnight pizza eating?

I could always look better, however. We've got 47 days until we leave, so my current mantra is 7 lbs in 47. Sounds pretty reasonable, and 7 lbs will take me from "curvy, healthy" to "Dayuuummm." I think I'm going to work on that.

Oliver-cat says hi. He's been watching this entire post and he'd like everyone to know that Oliver "Tang-Tang" has approved this message.

47 Days...

2007-12-28T13:37:00.000-05:00

I'm really excited today. I wanted to go somewhere fun for my birthday, and the hubby and I just got it figured out. We're headed to Vegas in 47 days! Got a decent deal on flights ($247) and a great room rate at MGM thanks to the fact that my husband gambles... and tends to lose. We're going over Valentine's Day weekend. I can't wait!

I feel better than I did yesterday

2007-12-18T13:54:00.000-05:00

Why, pray tell, do I always get a cold in December? I need to be on my A-game in December. I have networking functions to attend, family to shop for, trees to decorate, and a boatload of work at the office. Perhaps I do tend to burn the candle at both ends. At any rate, I've been sick with a cold for four and a half days. I feel fairly close to human today, so that's an improvement.

Funny story from today. Swear to god this is true. I called my vet to ask if we can get a mild sedative for our car trip with Hell Kitten. She put me on hold to get my file, and the waiting music was... wait for it... THE THONG SONG. WTF? How does that even remotely qualify as professional?

Good news is that 2008 looks good from a travel standpoint. We're going to Costa Rica in May, and I just scored an awesome fare on a inter-country flight to take us from the capital to the Osa Peninsula. Very excited about my thriftiness.

Also, I think I've talked the Italian into using some FF miles to go for an off-season jaunt to St. John. Yeah! Looks like sometime in August - September. Yes, I like to live dangerously with hurricane season. Actually, I prefer the Caribbean in the off months. Warmer water, flatter water, better snorkeling, rates about 60% off and less drunken idiots to contend with. I've got to wait for our December FF miles to come through before I can book though. I hope availability for that timeframe stays good through the holidays.

PS - I just realized that the bit about the vet is worded really strangely, but I like it so I'm going to keep it. Let me re-phrase: I called the vet to get a sedative for Hell Kitten. Not for me or the Italian.

Liquid Gold

2007-12-15T13:14:00.000-05:00

It's raining here. While in general this is a commonplace happening, where I live rain has become liquid gold. We're in a severe drought, so any rain is welcome, but the consistent soaking we're receiving now is just what the earth needs. Everything's thirsty.

Summer had it's last gasp this week. We had temps in the 70s earlier this week, but the cold front has arrived. I can't really be too mad about the cold, because it at least had the decency to bring the rain with it.

This might be my most boring blog post ever. I mean, a post about the weather? Still, it's so welcome and I'm happy.

I have a cold. A nasty, stuffy sinus infection. I don't feel bad otherwise, except for that thing attached to my neck. My cold plus the rain means its a perfect day to stay inside and make pretty jewelry. So that's what I'm doing.

Where there's a will...

2007-12-14T10:51:00.000-05:00

People who know me know that I am stubborn as a mule. When I really want something, I will charge ahead like a person possessed. "Impossible" doesn't apply to things I really want.

I've always wanted to own a vacation home somewhere really fabulous. Realities have to be considered, however, and most places really "fabulous" have a high price tag. I refuse to accept that. Call me crazy, call me stupid, but I think many people miss the boat by always doing the conventional thing when it comes to real estate.

So, I've come to the realization that we're not going to be purchasing this fabulous vacation property anytime in the near future. Likely a few years out, maybe more. In the meantime, I plan on looking, researching, and looking some more. This will be a measured decision.

One thing I've realized is that it's hard to buy something already built that meets my specifications. On St. John, for example, the average villa runs about $1.1 million dollars. That's right - $1.1 million for a small, 2-bedroom house concrete house, maybe with a pool. MAYBE. Taxes are high, utility costs are high. Rental rates are soaring, lots are sitting on the market (over 225 for sale on a very small island), and people aren't building. 9 lots have sold this year, down from a high of 167 lots sold in 2003. Can you say oversaturation?

Anyway, I've started looking into some alternative building ideas. It's amazing what's out there. In the Caribbean, the concerns are hurricanes, earthquakes and water. However, there are some pre-fab homes that look pretty cool that have excellent track records when it comes to hurricanes and earthquakes. You still have to build the cistern to supply the water, but we're looking at building a very small home. Smaller home = smaller cistern.

I think what I really want to do is build an eco-friendly budget rental for those who have good taste, but maybe not a fat wallet. I've got my eyes on the couples market, maybe a couple with a small child. I plan on keeping costs down by eschewing the traditional trappings people fall into. My vacation home will have no granite, no fancy backsplash, no stainless steel appliances, no cherry cabinets, and alas, probably no pool. Maybe a hot tub at some point.

What will it have? Hopefully, a great location, killer view, a cozy cottage feel, privacy, air-conditioning, and a comfortable bed.

Here are a few options I've found. It will cost well less than $150K to build out the structure. Less if we do a bamboo option and decide to take on the task ourselves. That doesn't include any excavation or pouring the cistern, but I've got years to meet people and get that figured out.

http://www.bambootechnologies.com/homes/thaihale/thaihale.htm
http://www.deltechomes.com

Am I crazy? Is a treated wood structure in the Caribbean just a nightmare waiting to happen? The bamboo is very interesting, especially since it's used a lot in Japan, which is home to massive quakes and killer cyclones. If it stands up there...

I'm determined to figure out a way to make this happen, and a way that doesn't cost me $1.1 million. I mean, you can't possibly make any cash on the rental that way. Running it as a loss seems pointless. Thoughts from the peanut gallery?

I constantly remind myself of the now-famous speech by Professor Randy Pausch, when he talks about reaching your goals. He says that roadblocks are there for a reason. They're to weed out the people who don't want things badly enough. A lesson for real estate, and for almost anything else in life.

I called a T.O.

2007-12-12T16:56:00.000-05:00

I did it. Something I almost never do. I left work today at 3:15 for no good reason. I said something about "working from home," but I promptly turned off my blackberry when I got home. Ok, I did check it once, just to be sure an emergency hadn't cropped up. That might get me fired. The laptop is still in its case though, so there.

I wasn't getting anything done in the office. I've reached a point of almost zero productivity, right when I need to be my most productive. I just needed a break, even if its just a few hours.

I think I'm going to take the whole night off. No jewelry, no law, no pressure to clean. Maybe get outside and take an evening walk with the Italian, cook some dinner, watch some TV and call it an early night.

I came home, took a 20 minute nap, then watched some Food Network while I ate crackers and hummus. I also learned something valuable this afternoon. Did you know cats like hummus? Here's Oliver, and apparently, he loves the stuff.

Who would've guessed?

Jewels and land and such

2007-12-09T21:32:00.000-05:00

It's been a busy week. I'm a commercial real estate attorney by day, and December is traditionally our busiest month. The closings are coming fast and furiously. I see no stopping this train until mid-January. So be it.

The jewelry business is off to a banner start. My friend and I design all of the earrings and necklaces we create. We handle everything, from selection of the beads to purchasing the findings to pricing. We're busy and we're tired. But in a good way. We had our first show this past week, and sold about $1300 worth of jewelry. We've got another show coming up next weekend, and I hope that show will make us solvent. We made over 120 pieces in six short weeks. Not bad, eh?

I've complicated my life once again. I have a bug in my brain that I want to own property in the Caribbean. But not just anywhere, on St. John, arguably one of the toniest locations in all of the Caribbean. Decent lots are still available and prices are coming down. Sales are down. We can afford the land, we just can't afford to build a house. Concrete is a bloody fortune, and you can't get insurance (nor a loan) with a wood-frame house. You gotta have concrete, and you want concrete, the winds can huff and puff but they can't blow concrete down. The contractors know it, and building is now a fortune.

Is it worth it? We're going to wait and research for at least a year before buying. Would we be better served to save our cash, pay off our house here in the States early and just live the easy life? I guess that way we could afford to travel to STJ or some other Caribbean locale and rent a long-term apartment for several months out of the year. Maybe that's the way? Or is ownership the better investment long-term? The Caribbean is such a harsh climate. Between earthquakes, hurricanes, extreme sun, salt, humidity, heat and bugs... I've got to know: Am I crazy?

If so, just tell me. I can take it. Trust me.

Dear Oliver

2007-11-30T14:41:00.000-05:00

This letter is to my kitten, Sir Oliver:

I am tired of you biting my ankles and feet. Your tiny teeth are pointy and sharp. You ferociousness rivals that of a lion, yet you are but a mere wee kitten. Please stop biting me. Please stop waking your adoptive father up in the middle of the night. We're trying. I know we're not home a lot and those two big cats knock you around quite a bit, but we love your furry ass. Really. We do.

I just called the vet and she said we have a "potential behavior problem on our hands." I don't want a behavior problem, I want a furry, sweet kitten. Like you were just a mere week ago. Was it the houseguests? Did Thanksgiving push you over the edge as well?

The vet is making lots of suggestions, but paying animal behaviorists and finding a "kitten kindergarten" just seem a bit ridiculous. Do you want to go back with your siblings and mama cat? I know where they are, but it's cold out there. And pretty rough, truth be told.

Also, while I'm making requests, please stop taking our socks and then growling at us when we try to reclaim them. You, kind sir, are NOT a dog. I repeat, NOT a dog. A cat, C-A-T.

I promise to play with you more. I can't get another kitten for you to play with, because four is just too many cats in one home. But, I can play with you myself. I'll start doing that more tonight. We'll have feather toy time and I'll try to run you ragged. I promise.

Love,

Mom

Back to Busy

2007-11-28T13:36:00.000-05:00

As you can probably tell, yesterday was a low point. I truly think I was having a bit of a family hangover. It was just too much during the Thanksgiving holiday. I know my limits and I think I need to observe those from now on. I still have a lot of unanswered questions about myself, but I am feeling a bit buoyed today. Writing about your deep-seated problems doesn't solve them, but it sure is a good purge for the soul.

Now, I'm so busy getting ready for my jewelry trunk show next Wednesday that I can barely keep my head above water. What kind of idiot tries to be a lawyer and jewelry designer at the same time? Oh, that would be me. I swear, I'm dreaming about necklaces and beads and wire and clasps. God help me. I'm turning into one of those weird craft women who spends more money at craft/bead stores than on shoes. What the hell happened to me?

As an aside, I had two of the most frustrating lunchtime experiences and I'm happy to report I didn't lose my cool. Nope, not once. I went to Joann to get some clasps (stop laughing) and the line was over a dozen people deep. It moved pretty quickly, but I don't wait. Not well.

Then, I went to a bagel shop to get some lunch and the guy working behind the counter was possibly the dumbest human being alive. After arguing with him about soups for 3-4 minutes, I was finally able to extract what I have realized is the greatest secret known to mankind: what "Seasonal" soups are on the menu at Einstein Brothers Bagel Co. Really, did you know this information was top-secret and closely guarded?

Not to be-labor the point, but why not, I'm good at driving a topic into the ground. See, the menu said "Chicken Noodle," "Vegetable," and the elusive "Seasonal." I asked him what soups they had today and he said, "It's my third day." But those aren't soups, I wanted to say. Instead, I bit my tongue. I asked him to pretty-please go check for me and he said "Oh, we got Chili." WE GOT CHILI? Well, then I follow that up with a big "what kind - beef or turkey?" and I swear to you his head nearly exploded. I don't eat beef and I know Einstein's usually has turkey chili. After another minute of discussing with a co-worker, I was informed that it was indeed turkey.

It took me over two minutes to order because he could find my items on their handy order form, and then it took 10 minutes to make the turkey/swiss sandwich and pour the soup. NOTE: I was the ONLY customer in the store. Now I know why.

Nonetheless, I did not leave in a huff. I did not yell. I did not make a smart remark. I just paid for my food and left.

Now I hope I don't get food poisoning.

PS - On the kitten front. We still have him and his name is Oliver. He is very bite-y. I need to talk to the vet about this because I think he's too vicious. I've never had a cat this aggressive before and I'm worried he's too much of a wild-man. However, he does lay nicely in my arms when tired and sleeps beside our pillows each night. We're having a few adjustment issues with the other cats but there's been no bloodshed so far. I was awakened last night to a kitty tongue-bath on my face. Kitten breath at 3am is cute, but annoying.

Mom-Burglar

2007-11-27T10:09:00.000-05:00

Our neighborhood has had seven break-ins in the past few months. No, I don't live in the ghetto, but I do live in an area with lots of first generation Korean immigrants who own businesses that run on cash. Cash that they tend to keep in their houses. All victims have been Korean and have had the same house plan (one different from ours). So, I thought we had little to worry about, but we had a security system installed anyway.

So, last Tuesday, the Italian and I are at our local grocery store, stocking up for Thanksgiving. He gets a call from an unrecognizable number, picks it up, and finds out the alarm is going off at our house. "Do you want us to call the police?," the Brinks person asks. "Hell, yes." The Italian goes home, and I, with a half-full cart of groceries, elect to finish what I started.

At this point, I'm thinking, "great, we're going to have a busted door from where the glass is broken, we're not going to be able to get it fixed until after the holiday, what a pain." I'm not real worried about items being stolen, because we don't have cash or guns in the house, and my two pieces of good jewelry were on me. Besides a few cats and a TV set too large to get out of the house without attracting much attention, these guys were getting a big "0" out of us. Our cash is in the bank, know what I mean?

So, ten minutes later I call the Italian. "What happened?," I asked. He said he didn't know, but the alarm was going off and the front door appeared to be unlocked. He didn't remember unlocking it, but he could have. Still, it doesn't explain how the alarm got set off. So, the cop arrives, pulls his gun and goes through our house. Very dramatic "Cops" material.

With a big shrug and thanks, the Italian bids the cop adieu and comes to get me at the grocery store. Now, in the meantime, I've been calling my mom repeatedly on her cell and home phone, trying to see if she'd been by our house. "That's crazy," you're probably thinking, "what mom would do that?" What mom indeed.

We've got boundary issues with my mom. She refuses to call before she stops by, and will let herself into our house on occasion. She has an emergency key, but she uses our house like an extension of hers. It's lovely, really.

So, finally, about an hour after we received the call that our alarm was going off, I got my mom on her home phone. Wasting no time, I cut to the chase: "Mom, have you been to our house tonight?" Pause, followed by a little voice that says "Yeeeessss..."

Turns out she set of our alarm when she tried to open our front door to let herself in (why, I don't know). Then, upon hearing the alarm, she bolted. She didn't call us to say "whoops," didn't stick around to see if the cops would come, she just left. Actually, she went to the Bank and the grocery store, and then failed to answer her cell phone when we called repeatedly.

Some people have wonderful relationships with their mothers. Me? I have a mom-burglar.

When I close my eyes, I see... beads

2007-11-19T20:27:00.000-05:00

The jewelry making is off to a good start. My business partner and I worked an 11 hour day yesterday, and I was able to finish another necklace tonight. I have a feeling I'll be too busy to write at length in the coming weeks, but so far I'm happy with this jewelry stuff. We got a boutique in a nearby mountain town to carry some of our stuff, and we have two other leads as well. I hope to have our website up and running in a few months and we'll host a couple of trunk shows as well. Lots going on, busy mind and busy hands.

I've got to go clean up my house for Thanksgiving. In this whole mess, I'm hosting 18 people on Thursday for dinner. Eek. My sister and her family arrive tomorrow to stay with us. Wish me luck. I usually need it where her family is concerned.

Decompression

2007-11-14T16:30:00.000-05:00

I've been slammed with work lately. Today started with a bang. Work was going a mile a second, and I was trying to close a $25M deal with little help from anyone else. All of a sudden, the deal was postponed, and I can't find the energy to pick up on my other projects.

I am simply drained.

Stepping back into the morose, I know. It's what I said I wouldn't do, but here I am. I'd like to write off my current mental state to "season change," but I can't. Is it depression? I don't know if I'd say that either. I think it's just an extreme desire to change some things about my life, and an equally extreme inability to do so.

I am feeling trapped.

Why, you say? Well, the economy for one. I'd really like to start scaling back our financial obligations, but we won't be able to sell either our house or our townhome right now. The market is too bad. I could get rid of my fancy car, I suppose. Maybe I'll look into that.

With our financial obligations, I have no choice but to keep working a job where I make a comfortable salary -- regardless of whether I like what I'm doing. We're not living above our means, but we're certainly not below them either.

Also, it's just plain depressing where I live right now. My neighborhood is having a mini crime spree, and I don't even feel safe in my own home. Word is apparently "out" about the crime and agents have stopped bringing folks by look at new homes or resales. Fabulous for property values!

I'm really just bitching now, and I don't mean to. Okay, that's a lie. I do.

On the good side, my co-worker and I got permission to host a jewelry show in my office for early December. Wish me luck, we're currently in the designing phase and it's time-consuming and EXPENSIVE! I was up until 1:00 am last night. Perhaps my exhaustion is contributing to my mood.

Oh, and kitten-raising is hard. I had forgotten. Our two big cats have turned into nasty, snarling beasties each time the kitten comes near. The kitten is a mini-cougar who seems intent on puncturing the skin on my hands, feet and face. Yes, face. But, just as soon as I'm ready to punt his furry little ass right on out the door, he curls up on my pillow and sleeps beside my head. He really is a good little sleeper, getting 6-7 hours a night on our bed. I do love him.

On St. John

2007-11-09T09:35:00.000-05:00

Four months ago today I was on St. John, soaking up some lovely Caribbean weather and snorkeling to my heart's content. Today, I'm sitting in my office with my winter coat still on and a portable heater beside my legs. My, how things change.

The Italian and I don't have a trip planned until May 2008, when we're going to Costa Rica. We *might* go to Vegas in March, but I don't want to make that trip for a variety of reasons, mainly that it's a group trip. The Italian and I always travel with other people, and while it's fun, I'm a bit tired of it. I have so little time off that when I'm off, I want to do exactly what I want to do, when I want to do it. Does that sound selfish? Plus, a Vegas trip quickly gets expensive when you factor in gambling. We don't usually get out there for less than $2000 for a long weekend. I figure we can get to the tropics for four nights in Feb. for less than that, though we may not stay at the nicest place ever.

I'm seriously contemplating trying to squeeze a quick getaway in during the month of February. It's typically a slow month for me, work-wise. With the economy being down, I'm hopeful that we can find a good deal somewhere, even if it's just a cheap AI in Mexico or the Dominican (though I really don't want food poisoning, thank you very much.). Shoot, at this point, I'll even camp on St. John. You hear that, Mr. Italian?

I'm afraid my love for St. John is a dangerous love. St. John is a very expensive island, and while there are cheaper options as far as lodging, things like food and rental cars will just never been inexpensive there.

The only thing worse than being at work

2007-11-08T15:54:00.000-05:00

... Is being at work with absolutely nothing to do. And not being able to leave because you're waiting for the other shoe to drop on a $20+ million deal. "Couldn't you find something else to do," you're probably saying right now. "Maybe organize something, or catch up on some shit you're behind on." Yeah, maybe I could, but I'm not gonna.

FACT: It's a lot more fun to blog about it how much work sucks than to actually DO something to make work better.

On a somewhat related note, I'm feeling creatively-challenged on the jewelry design front. This always tends to happen when I get serious about turning it into a business. I get all excited, then I sit down to actually design new stuff and all of the sudden I think I suck at the whole thing. Fear, it's a killer.

State of the Union

2007-11-06T20:23:00.000-05:00

I have pinpointed a phenomenon that is the epitome, indeed a complete embodiment, of everything that's wrong with America today. I'd like to thank the Bravo television network for blessing us with the lovely slice of Americana entitled "The Real Housewives of Orange County."

I shall henceforth call it "TRHOC," which sounds not unlike the vocalization my cat makes when coughing up a hairball. Coincidence?

The apparent premiere of the new season is upon us, so Bravo has seen fit to run episode after episode of this vacuous programme. A virtual marathon for the brain, an evening of watching TRHOC requires the lack of affect seen in extreme depressives, the rigidity of a catatonic and the stupidity seen in, well, the stupid. Really, one must possess all of those characteristics to get through an episode without feeling as if all Californians, nay all Americans, shouldn't pick up the arms we're so proud to bear and blow our collective brains out.

But, really, maybe I'm putting too much thought into TRHOC. It's likely been years since most of the Housewives featured on this show have had a thought beyond how much money they're going to spend on diamond skull earrings or if their 500cc breast implants might rupture while getting a shiatsu massage at Canyon Ranch.

Lest you misunderstand me, let me get one thing straight at the outset: I am not envious of these women. Give me some credit, that's just too easy. I could theoretically buy a $10,000 watch if I chose to. But I wouldn't. Who the hell needs a $10,000 watch? Anyway, my point here is that my venom towards this show is not petty jealously or my deep-seated desire to whimsically spend thousands on LV purses and thongs at Agent Provocateur.

Rather, I hate this show because these women are dolts. Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, I submit to you the following:

Exhibit A - Vicki: Housewife Vicki is an energy-packed California blonde with a heart of gold who just wants her kids to be her best friends. See, there's a problem with that, because she's their MOTHER, not their friend. But what do I know about raising kids? I mean, I don't have one of those licenses they make Americans get before you can breed. Oh, what's that you say? We don't do that in this country? Well, that explains so much.

Vicki's got this pimply, bratty-faced 20-year old son off at college in Boulder, Colorado. She decides to "surprise" him by showing up for a weekend visit, on a gameday nonetheless. Vicki busts up in his broke-ass college frat house with a twelve pack of Coors and a party-till-you-puke scream. Bratty son, as you can guess, is none too pleased.

The 20-year old basically makes his mom feel like an idiot (which she should) and tells her "I just wish you'd told me you were coming." Fair enough, kid, fair enough. However, Vicki isn't getting the point. "But then it wouldn't have been a surprise," she says. Vicki's prattles on, pathetically asking "aren't you happy to see me?" over and over until she is reduced to tears and flees to her son's bathroom with her Coors Light in hand. Drown those sorrows, Vicki, drown 'em.

Really, I haven't seen such co-dependent, fucked-up Freudian behavior between a mother and son since Anna Nicole Smith and Daniel. This bitch ought to be ashamed, but I don't think Vicki and shame are on intimate terms.

I don't normally side with 20-year olds. I think they're obnoxious tadults (teen-adults) caught in that awkward phase between idiocy and the marrying years. But this kid really has a point. Here he is in his college town just trying to enjoy game day with the guys, and his cougar of a mother barges right in, fake tits on display for all his friends to ogle. It's got to be embarassing. Plus, she's acting more like his long-lost girlfriend than his mother. But guess what, Vicki? He doesn't want a friend, he wants a mother. She of course never gets it, and the whole crying scene ends with the son saying something like "Pull yourself together, I'll be in the kitchen." He's a little bossy, isn't he? I like that in my 20-year olds.

Vicki's obviously feeling badly about things, so she tries to make it up to her son by getting drunk. At this point, she offers to buy him a brand new car if he gets a 3.5 GPA for the semester. Seriously, a 3.5? I mean, it's good and all, but isn't she setting the bar a little low? Kid's not at Harvard, after all. To celebrate the offer, Vicki does a keg stand, and then lets her son's friends suck on her boobs. Okay, I made that very last part up, but she really did do a keg stand supported by her son's buddies.

Where can I nominate her for mother of the year?

Exhibit B - Jeana: Jeana is a former Playmate who is married to an ex-baseball player. She's got American Dream written all over her, doesn't she? It appears, however, that the years have not been kind to Jeana's marriage (or Jeana's waistline for that matter, but that's a different topic for a different day). To be fair, Jeana is the only one who seems to have a lick of common sense in her head, but I don't think she's passed her "midwestern values" onto her kids. When asked about the state of her parents marriage, Jeana's 17-year old daughter says "I think my mom ought to get a boyfriend."

I don't think I need to say anything else at this point.

Exhibit C - Lauri: Lauri's sugar-daddy gives her a $100,000 convertible Mercedes. Problem is, Lauri's 21-year old daughter has a wicked sense of entitlement, and can't even look at her mom's car for 10 seconds without saying something like, "Okay, let's trade your old car in 'cause I want a BMW convertible. Moooooommmm, you have a $30,000 watch on your wrist! It makes me so mad! It's not fair." Oh really?

Good luck to whatever guy ends up with that gold-digging tramp, er, undiscovered gem.

Exhibit D - Jo: Lastly, no introduction to TRHOC would be complete without talking about Jo. The youngest of our housewives, this chick isn't really a housewife at all. I actually have NO idea why she is even remotely qualified to be on this show (Oh dear lord, tee-hee. I said that like these women have qualifications. Har, har, hee, hee.). Jo isn't married, has no kids, but is fucking a really rich dude with a teenage son. She used to live with him in the O.C., but now she's moved to a shitty apartment in LA with her friend in an attempt to start a recording career. She kind of looks like Eva Longoria if you squint real hard and turn your head to the left, but I think that's her greatest talent, 'cause her voice is beat.

Her boyfriend, who has an asinine name like "Slate" or "Slade" or something, knows some people who knows some people (who doesn't?). She cuts a demo, and on the episode I watched last night, they had a meeting with record execs. Slate proceeds to sing along with the demo, trying to show how "in" to the music he really is, but all he succeeds in doing is showing how much better a 40-year old man with a Peter Pan complex can sing than Jo. Shit, even I can sing better than Jo, and I've made ears bleed before.

I could go on, but really, why? Is this what our nation's young people aspire to be? Fake-titted, vapid housewives with bratty kids and big bank accounts? I'd like to think this show is aired with a wink and a nod to the viewer, but I don't think it is. Is TRHOC the new American dream? If it is, then get me the hell out of here.

Sacrifices

2007-11-06T13:34:00.001-05:00

I ordered my Dunkin' Donuts coffee this morning and when the lady behind the counter asked "would you like cream?," I did the unthinkable. I said "No. I'll have milk please." Milk is not the same as cream. Damn my metabolism.

Sacrifices

2007-11-06T13:34:00.000-05:00

Eh. and Yeah!

2007-11-06T08:44:00.001-05:00

Today is a day of good news and bad news. On the good side, I'm happy about "falling back," time-wise. I am now able to get out of bed before 7:30 AM and be a productive little morning bee.

On the very, very good side, I have some news on the career front. No, I'm not leaving my job (yet). But, I have decided to go into the jewelry business with a friend of mine. We both make high-quality, mid-priced handmade jewelry using semi-precious stones and metals. It's been a hobby for both of us for a while, and we're going for it. The investment will be relatively minor (when you consider what some ventures cost to start), and we're going to tap into our resources (read: the Italian and some good friends) for graphic design and website creation. Things are going to be getting very busy, very soon. I couldn't be more excited.

Alright, into every life a little rain must fall, eh? Well, it fell this morning when I got on the scale. Now, if you read my blog at all, you'll know that I've been indulging in a little pity party lately. Apparently, pity is not the only thing I've been indulging in, because I've gained about six pounds. That's a lot of (typo but I'm keeping it) me. I mean, damn, no wonder I've been feeling like my ass is getting larger - in fact, it is. Ick.

So, I'm back on the diet horse, with a lovely breakfast of pear and hardboiled egg. No more tacos, beer or french fries for a good long while, I'm afraid. I'm mulling over the idea of posting progress pictures to this blog (face blocked to keep me relatively anonymous), but I'm afraid of the pervs. So, if you are one and you are reading this, could you let me know in advance so I kind of know what to expect?

A Long-Awaited Wedding

2007-11-04T21:57:00.000-05:00

We've returned from the wedding. We left on Wednesday night and have been going non-stop since we arrived on Hilton Head Island. In short, the wedding was spectacular. A 4:00 ceremony on the beach, perfect 70 degree weather with nary a cloud in the sky, and a bride so calm I would swear she was drugged (She wasn't, I'm pretty sure... okay, no she wasn't).

I was so honored to be a part of the Design Goddess' wedding (I'm one of the lovely ladies in the background in the polka dots). She and I have been great friends for a number of years, and she's almost like another sister. I also get along with the Design Goddess' actual sister quite well, and we stayed at the real sister's place the entire time. I forget how fun it is to hang out with girlfriends. When we all get together we invariably spend hours laughing and being anything but serious. I have enough "serious" in my daily life, so the occasional departure is welcome and, dare I say, necessary.

One funny anecdote (before I get all serious on your asses). The bride had her hair and make-up all done and we had to get her in her dress. So, the bride is standing in her foundation garments (you know, Spanx, chicken cutlet sticky bra, the works) and we're contemplating how to get the dress over her head without causing damage to the 'do, the dress or the painted face. So, we come up with the brilliant idea to cover her face with a plastic bag and shimmy the dress over quickly.

We maybe should've thought that one through a bit first.

See, as soon as we start pulling the dress over her head, we realize it's not so easy. It's a bit tight and we've got to ease her on into it. Butter or Crisco would've helped... they make those slim-fit wedding dresses awful form-fitting. Next thing we know, a little voice from inside the dress says "uh, guys, I can't breathe" and then we hear the plastic bag suck in against her mouth. The bride was out of air. As the other two bridesmaid's are frantically pulling the dress down, I dive in and attempt to either (a) poke a hole in the aforesaid plastic bag, or (b) find the hole in the handle for her to breathe through. It took about ten seconds, but I got found her an air supply. I'm pretty sure I almost wet my pants once air-flow was returned to the bride. The photographer was getting no end of amusement out of our stupidity.

Lesson: Don't suffocate the bride on her wedding day.

But I digress. Truthfully, I am a bit socialized out, but I feel like I gained a ton of new friends over the weekend. Granted, most of them live in Chicago (where the bride and groom currently live) but we get up there enough to see our newfound friends from time to time. I've been very introspective lately, and I think getting out and remembering how to make new friends is something I've been lacking lately. It's easy to get complacent... but complacency is rarely exciting.

I think what stuck with me most was when I was leaving today. I was speaking with the newly crowned Mrs. Design Goddess and she said "now all we have to do is arrange to all move back to North Carolina when it's time to have kids... what do you say?" That statement really excited me. I think being somewhere where you are surrounded by friends and a close social network is so invaluable. It's easy to just go-go-go and chase your career, your desires, etc. All of those things are necessary, but in the end, you need to be surrounded by good friends and family. Friends are especially underrated because, unlike your family, you do get to choose friends. So, in some respects, a good friend can be more important to your life than a semi-involved relative.

I was also struck this weekend by how much this wedding moved The Italian. He cried multiple times... at the rehearsal dinner slideshow, at the wedding, at the Maid of Honor's toast. He told me later that he sees the Design Goddess as his adopted sister. I'm so lucky that my husband has a genuine love for my best friends (in fact, she was his friend before mine... thanks for the gift, love). He said seeing close friends get married means so much to him because he knows we'll spend the rest of our lives with these people. Even if we're not in the same city, we support each other through hard times and successes, go on vacation together, and share common interests.

Me? I have a cold, black heart and don't cry at weddings. I don't know, it's just not my thing. I do WANT to cry when I'm sitting a wedding going "you fools have lost your minds. You are so getting divorced. I hope you have a pre-nup and good birth control." But happy weddings, like this one, where I know the bride and groom really get each other and will try their best to make each other happy... well, that just makes me feel comforted and satisfied, and tears are impossible when I feel that way.

Upon reflection, it was quite a weekend. I'm exhausted, I'm sick, but my heart is full. Congratulations to the Design Goddess, one of my best friends in the world and one of the best people I know.

Very, very tired

2007-11-03T09:17:00.000-04:00

I'm sitting in Hilton Head right now, and I'm exhausted. I'm a bridesmaid in a good friend's wedding, and I'm already worn out. Too much talking, too much eating, too much drinking (oops), not enough sleep. Weather is gorgeous though. I wish I had more time to be by the beach, but this is not "that kind" of trip. Oh well.

Little Dude, Litter Eater

2007-10-31T10:40:00.000-04:00

We had a quasi-emergency last night. We're going out of town tonight, and I'd planned on a nice, calm Tuesday night filled with packing, making soup from my William-Sonoma cookbook, watching House and making some jewelry. I got most of those things done, but I was up until 1:00am. Why? Well, there was an emergency vet visit thrown in there.

We had my mom over for dinner and she brought the little dude. He was sitting on my lap while we were eating dinner, and despite my best efforts to keep him on my lap, he took a plunge. FACT: 4 week old kittens do not "land on their feet" like normal cats. They kind of fall into a heap and then walk in circles and limp off, clearly wounded.

Feeling like the most horrible person alive, I quickly realized little dude might be seriously hurt. We rushed him into the emergency vet where he was diagnosed with a "soft tissue injury to his left front leg" and a scrotum. That's right, ladies and gents, we have ourselves a boy. He's going to be okay but I'm horrified. If you knew the care I take with my animals, you'd understand. I'm so careful and protective, and then this happens. I felt awful. But, $130 later and after fearing for his little life, I think little dude is officially ours.

To celebrate, he came home and ate some litter. He's kind of retarded that way, but hopefully he'll grow out of it.

I've also posted a picture of my other cat, Princess Sassy Pants (not her real name, but it should be), just for good measure.

FACT: did you know only 1 in 3,000 orange cats are female?

Rambles

2007-10-30T09:13:00.000-04:00

I can't find the patience to sit down and write an in-depth blog, so this little post may be all over the board.

First, regarding le chat. No firm decision yet, but I think we're going to take him. I've convinced the Italian with a three-pronged offense: 1. He gets to name the cat (poor thing); 2. The cat gets declawed; and 3. We won't take him until he is house-broken. My mom is keeping him for now because she doesn't work, and the cat is just too little to be left alone alone all day. He needs monitored feeding and he's not fully litter box trained, which we just can't have. The little guy eats litter. Oh, god, what have I gotten myself into?

Second, I'm kind of sad my mom won't take him for her own. As much I want want the little orange fluffball, my mom is all by herself and has been for a while now. She's had death after death hit her hard. First was my dad five years ago, then a close family friend who she relied on after my dad died, then her cat of 19 years. She just doesn't have it in her to get attached to another living thing, which is so pitifully sad and defeatest I can't even properly articulate my feelings about the matter. She's given up on life, and I've run out of ways to help her or encouraging words to say. I'm exhausted on that front, and feel like a bad daughter into the bargain.

Third, I'm really sad about this beach house fire in Ocean Isle, North Carolina. If you live in the US, you've probably read about it. Thirteen college students were staying at a beach house for a weekend of fun, a fire broke out and over half of them died. When I was in college, a fraternity house on my campus burned to the ground and killed six or so kids. One of them was a sorority sister of mine. This fire brings back such vivid memories, as the circumstances, time of day, and survivor recounts are so similar to what happened at UNC while I was there. Ugh, it just makes me shudder. I so remember that charred out frat house that just sat there for months, a blackened reminder of how fleeting and cruel life can be.

Fourth, and I'm totally switching gears here, I feel like I'm getting fat. I swear my butt has grown this week. Is it the Nutella is bought? Could it be the taqueria food I had last night? I need to stop eating out.

Fifth, we're ending our "month-long festival of travel" this weekened with a trip to Hilton Head for a wedding. One of my best friends (we'll call her Design Goddess as she is a fabulous graphic designer) is finally getting married to her boyfriend of eight years, and I'm so happy for her. I really never thought this would happen. Design Goddess did so much to help me when I married the Italian, more than any of my family. I'm excited to go down on Wednesday night to help her in any way I can, though I can never repay her for all the things she did for me.

Sixth, the Italian's college friend, who we'll call Fuckface, is still a fuckface. We saw him two weeks ago and Dave encouraged me to have an open mind. "Fuckface has changed," the Italian said, "he's got a fiance now, and she has a daughter he's taking care of, and he's really changed." I called bullshit, and - dare I say it - I was RIGHT. R-I-G-H-T. His fiance is awesome, he still sucks. As a small bit of background, this dude has screwed up the mind of every girl he's ever dated. I personally know two girls he's made certifiably insane, one of them being my bestest friend in the whole wide world, who we'll call Big-Eyed Randy Moss Fan (weird name, but trust me, it makes sense).

Anyway, so while together a couple of weekend's ago, all of the Italian's college buddies started talking about doing a Vegas trip with the guys and all wives. Everyone was on board. Then, after we all returned home, Fuckface sent an email out to the guys, saying something along the lines of "I've been to Vegas with my fiance, and it sucked. She was over my shoulder the whole time, freaking out about money and how late we were staying out. Wouldn't everything be more fun if it was just guys?" Now, I'm not opposed to a guy's weekend here and there, they just did one last month in Key West. I do girl's weekends with my friends. But, this trip was decided on as a couple's thing, and now he wants to switch up the plans because he wants to relive his college-boy days. Also, I think I'm offended because, when it comes to Vegas, I'm pretty much a dude. I don't want to shop (okay, a little but not much), I don't want to spend hours eating at some over-priced restaurant or standing in line for some chi-chi look-at-me club. I want to gamble. Period. Fuckface hasn't changed, he doesn't respect women or relationships, and he never will.

Seventh, and lastly (thank god!), I'm on a jewelry bender. I make jewelry, and it's not something I talk about a lot. I'm kind of sensitive because I'm not sure my stuff is any good. I secretly want to make a business out of it, but I'm scared no one would buy my stuff. I've never thought of myself as a creative person, and so I'm surprised when I sit down to do jewelry and get so into it that three hours have passed. Nothing else in my life distracts me to the extent that I forget about time, my neuroses, or the size of my ass. Well, maybe writing, but that's about it. Writing and jewelry maker... can I craft a career out of that?

Looky here

2007-10-28T21:33:00.000-04:00

So, my mom stops by tonight. Normally it's a rather bleak occasion when she happens by, because she's a rather toxic person at times. This time, though, she brought a visitor by. A furry one, as you can see by the picture I've posted (it's worth noting that those are my mother's yellowing fingernails, not mine, thank you very much). She found him behind her house, and his mama has no more milk left to feed him. So, my mom has taken him in. Problem is, she doesn't want the little guy permanently. This, apparently, is where we come in.

The Italian and I have two cats now, but I've really been wanting a male orange marmalade for some time now. It's a bit early to tell yet, but it appears to be a boy. Oh brother. Sounds like I've got some convincing to do...

Baby gots some new shoes

2007-10-27T19:43:00.000-04:00

You like? I said I needed to change some things, and The Billing Room is no exception. She's outfitted for fall, with a nice optimistic touch of rainbows and hearts. A little girlier than I would usually opt for, but what the hell.

Images

2007-10-27T19:06:00.001-04:00