Notches on Your Belt

Not those kind of notches!

;)

But I have gone down a notch or two. I'm not really certain how that happens, but it has happened.

Okay, of course I KNOW how that happens, but I maybe didn't expect it with my own belt? Either way it's good.

Last week was a hella week. You know, hella busy, hella disjointed, and hella nothing. Yes! All at the same time!

Giving up grains is kicking my ass. Frankly it pisses me off they are not kicked entirely. I want this line of demarcation. This line where I can look and think to myself, "That is the day I gave up grains. That is the day I gave up sugar."

Most of the problem is lack of planning. I have heard this phrase:

When You Fail to Plan, You Plan to Fail.

Holy crapinoli, this phrase is the truth.

On a better note, I'm still moving more and that's always a good thing.

I'm hanging in there little warriors. Or big warriors. Or whatever the hell we are. Or what I am. Can you tell I'm a bit crabby about this? Ha!

Smooches to my grok-hooches. 

GNO Instead of HBO

Simply Jane Studio

One of my new friends from my, as Pup loves to call it, gristly little job, is Alli-baby. A gorgeous, vivacious, 40 year-old woman who is CHUCK full of ideas, sass, and exploding laughter.

She and I took one look at each other and kinda fell in love. Which is way fun because, even though I could have given birth to her, it's fun to make new friends. And, as a side-note, it seems hard to make new friends the older you get. Why is this btw? That's a post for a different day.

This post is about an idea Alli-baby had for GNO (girl's night out).

She and I are aficionados of the Bravo Housewives franchise. Go ahead and judge, but I do like to turn on their nattering and fighting and crazy-faced escapades. Pure entertainment. And a great chance to feel better about myself because . . . well because I am not one of them. I'll own it and not tone it!

So, yes, she was watching the Orange County version and they were having a GNO at a painting studio. Alli-baby thought, "kachinga! Let's do this thing!"

She did all the research and planning and found this charming and lovely art studio right in the neighborhood (their's, not mine), Simply Jane Studio.

Nine of us collected at the studio Saturday night, wine and appetizers in hand, ready to have a lesson and some fun.

A great group. The owner/artist had canvases for us with an outline of the painting we'd be creating. Paint, brushes, and basic instruction was provided. We started painting.

Nine women with nine different points of view. Some very careful. Some (me) not so careful. All of them wonderful to look at in the end.

Our table of four held myself, my Shelley-belly (another job friend), and two other girls. One who regaled us with her story from the summer wherein she had a hot and thought-provoking fling with a pool boy. We were enthralled and poked for details. The next time I see this woman I'll get even more details. Love them details!

When I am in a group I am easily distracted. Reminds me of being in school. Instead of concentrating on my own project I'm way too busy checking out everyone else's project, listening to stories, and generally letting my adult ADHD (not professionally diagnosed, but yet, it's there in full swing) derail me.

Here is my creation. I think she looks a little bit like a vampy, blonde, Wilma Flintstone.

While I was having at it, my girl's hair turned green. For some reason our table was treated like the ugly step-sisters and didn't get too much instruction. Either we seemed competent, the other table needed way more help, or we scared Jane. Who us? But luckily Shelley-belly is an artist herself and helped me help my girl.

Alli-baby is already busy planning our next GNO and I'm excited to be part of this new group.

We're thinking paint-ball!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you live in my area, please check out Jane's studio, Simply Jane, for a similar event. She also does birthday parties. Simply a blast.

Say the Word and You'll Be Free

Favorite Words

• obdurate
• persnickety
• twitch
• twist
• smart
• smaller size (yes, a phrase)
• erupting (flowers people, flowers)
• hey
• hot mess (yes, another phrase - I change my mind a lot! What can I say?)
• yes
• disparate
• same
• fever

Words.

Don't you just love them? Especially us blogger-types. We use them, mold them, scold them, or they scold us. We are good at using them. We are bad at using them. They are spelled wrong, they are spelled right. Somehow, even with errors, the message is clear.

My adorable little sister thinks I am too careful on my blog. That I don't have at it with both guns blazing. I know she might think me a guns-blazing kind of girl, but I don't always feel that way on the inside. Am I reactive at times? Oh yes I am. Am I passive at times? Oh yes I am.

This is because, no matter how prolific you are on your blog, no matter how succinct, no matter how much you swear, no matter how much you avoid it, no matter what, you are not "putting it all out there." We self-edit. We might let little things slip here and there, but we edit ourselves.

How could we not? Even when trying to be brutally upfront and honest, it's still only your view of the thing. We've all heard this,

There are three stories. Your story, their story, and the real story.

I don't know who writes the real story, but it's out there somewhere!

For me? I'm boring at times, I'm aggressive at times, I'm quiet at times (even me!), I'm LOUD at times, I'm annoying always.

But to you guys, you guys that I read every day, I love all the disparate and similar views. I love the loud and the quiet. I love the inflammatory and the salving. I just love y'all. Yes.

Baby, It's Hot Outside

What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps me in a continual state of inelegance.
~ Jane Austen

It was so hot today the National Weather Service issued a fat-guy-in-tank-top warning.
~ Unknown

It's spring fever! That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!
~ Mark Twain

If heat rises, then shouldn't hell be cold?
~ Unknown

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I haven't talked about it much, but it's been damn weird here in Minnesota.

No snow (nearly so) all winter. Not cold all winter. Now it's been in the 80s.

My poor body doesn't know what to do. I'm hot. Hot. Not that kind of hot (well, maybe the random comment from time to time - I don't take them personally), but hot.

At work I'm BEGGING the cold-hearted and cold-blooded girls to please turn the temps down. Don't they have any heat inside of them?

Sleeping up in the loft is killing me I'm so hot. Pup still wants his bed heater on. I'm exaggerating a little, but not much.

I keep thinking I'm having an endless hot flash, and then I remember. When I was in my 20s and 30s I was hot ALL THE TIME. Could it be I have finally, after months of working with my patient, kind, and puzzled compounding pharmacist, could it be that I've reached a level of balance with my hormones? And this is how I'm supposed to be?

I better figure out what to do with my hair! I'm hot!

What's it like where y'all are?

Move Your Rear

Pup and I have been doing just that. #thankyouplanetfitness

I'm being the high-priestess of bitchdom. That's okay. We both need prodding and I know he will forgive me.

I'm not buying him treats anymore. He pouts once in a while, but mostly he's doing very good. When he pouts and says, "Let's go to Dairy Queen!" I say, "Pup, we're fatty's. No."

We meet at the club about three times a week around 7:30. Between poor Pup's shifts.

As for me? I'm reading all about Cold Thermogenesis and I'm scared. I'm a puss and this is scaring me. Either Dr. Jack is a nut or the world is stupid. I haven't decided.

grump

I'm eating so good I should weigh 110 pounds. I don't. It isn't moving very fast. I don't know what's up with that.

grump

I'm moving though. I feel better. Mostly I'm sleeping awesome. I have some mojo working. Funny how getting flirted with can change your whole outlook. Yes, I am shallow. Also funny how good conversations can make me find faith in my fellow peeps. Love y'all.

smooches my hooches and get out there and shake what your momma gave you.

Grin and Bare It

I work in a small consignment store.

There are a few men that come into the store. Pretty fucking amazing men frankly. Men that think outside of the norm when it comes to shopping. Men that are curious and stay because it's awesome. Men that are stuck there with their wives (I'll never in a million years figure that one out - go home - go to the Home Depot - go anywhere but following your wife around looking like an idiot). Men that are gay and therefore (in a sweeping general sense) more savvy to shopping. Men that consign.

I had a guy come in yesterday that said, "Your men section is small, like in all consignment stores, but I always find something awesome."

I just nodded and smiled at him. Maybe I even winked. Because he's in. He gets it.

Our store deals with customers and consigners. Clearly that's how it works. Customers come in and shop. Consigners come in and consign. Many of the customers are also consigners. Some consigners would drop dead before they'd shop the store.

The consigners are mainly women. The customers are mainly women.

In the past few weeks:

• I was called "her highness" by a disgruntled consigner that doesn't like to follow rules and told me in a Russian accent, "I am so sorry I am not up to your standards your highness, but I cannot follow the rules because I blah blah blah fuckin' blah." Bite me.
• A woman argued with me on a piece of designer clothing that was soiled around the collar. The consigner kept telling me, "This cost a lot of money. Someone will want this. It's a great party outfit. Do you realize who Oscar de la Renta is?" Bite me. First of all, wearing an outfit that makes you look like a piece of wedding cake (sorry Oscar) is heinous; just because it cost lots of "money" doesn't make it good. It's dirty - get the hell out.
• A woman was staring at my name tag and said, "Do you WORK here? When did you start wearing name tags?" Bite me. WTF? She also insisted on wearing a bracelet around the store because, "She wanted to see how it feels. I won't steal it." Yes, of course, she stole it. Get your husband to bite me. I'm guessing it's been a few years since he's had any fun.
• A woman stomped her foot and pouted when told she couldn't leave all of her stuff for consigning and go have lunch. "I'm late! Can't you just do this?" Bite me. Get in line. And plan your day better.
• A woman walked out in a huff saying, "I am not bringing stuff here anymore. It never sells." Bite me. Her stuff was usually pity-takes; which, frankly, I don't condone.
• A woman who had to tell me a story about every pieced she brought in. Bite me. What the hell do I care? Do you see the consigners waiting their turn behind you?
• A customer brought a pile of stuff up to the counter, said she was ready, and then while I was organizing her items, she's still deciding. "Oh! Maybe I should try that on again! Let me think about it. Oh, I saw a top - let me run get it." Bite me. People are stacking up behind you. Decide before you come to checkout.
• A customer indignantly marched up to the front of the store exclaiming, "Who put that top away I was looking at?" Bite me. WTH are you talking about? She found it. Right where she left it. Sigh
• A consigner that has consigned one piece of clothing and calls every day to see if it's sold. Frets every time she's told, "not yet." Bite me. There are thousands of pieces in this store. Not all of them sell.

I tell Pup stories every day when I come home from work. He laughs his ass off and can't believe what he's hearing most of the time.

It makes me feel good to laugh along with him because, hey, you have to laugh!

But for now, I'm buying myself the hugest tiara I can find and changing my name-tag to "Her Highness."

What's on My Blackberry?

There was so much random and idiotic stuff in the photo folder on my beloved BlackBerry that I could only sigh and say, "WTH"?

But, there were a couple that made me giggle a little bit.

I have a recipe box exactly like this one. My dad bought it for me when I was in the 7th grade for my Home Economics class. I was so excited that he got such a spiffy one. I found this one in an antique store (holy cow) and immediately picked it up for my Bella.

No memory why I took this one of the Beatles print I put up in The Big Room. I like it though. The Beatles, not necessarily this shot of it. Heh!

Yeah, Calvin helping me make the bed. I know, I know, but he makes me laugh!

I took this shot of the inside of my fridge for another blog. Embarrassing what is and what isn't in there!

Pup's momma is on the right and Pup's auntie is on the left. We took them to dinner a week or so ago. His auntie remembers that her momma was a bootlegger! She was amazing to talk to and I want to see her again and get some of her stories on tape. Seriously amazing stories.

What it is! It's coming! It is!

This glass owl weighs about 10 pounds! I could use him for a weapon! I just may.

Yes, this guy came home with me to be the little brother to the other one I bought a while back. I should hang my head, but I hold it high with my owl love!

My BFF bought this. It is the cutest ugly frog I've ever laid eyes on.

Daisy!

What's been keeping y'all out of trouble this week?

Hot Men Friday

I think I've done him before (don't I wish) and I'm going to repeat for all of our viewing pleasure. If you've a mind towards this.

Yes.

What is it about some faces? The way this face is put together works.

I've studied faces in my own way. Why a turn here or there makes the difference. Why a quirky something can mean no difference in the beauty and sometimes an off kilter thing can make all the difference. I know symmetry is the key to beauty, but it's also fascinating how each of us sees beauty (or hotness!) in such different ways.

This one is good for me.

Of course, this one is even better.

Don Draper

The best bad boy out there. For me.

Smoking, manipulating, drinking, philandering. All the things we should hate, but somehow it's so titillating and exciting.

Maybe the reason many of us are reading this until our eyes are glossy. Hmm?

I was talking to a girlfriend about this last night and we both agree; being naughty has huge appeal. At least from the safety of your bed with your iPad. Not that I'd know anything about that. Ahem . . .

In fact, I'll be participating in my first book club. We're going to meet in a local VFW to talk about this book just for flavor. Oh, women are awesome.

But in the meantime, I'll follow along with this crew for naughty inspiration.

If the Rain Comes

But they did come!

The Beatles Tribute group Rain

Last night at the lovely and historic Orpheum Theater in lovely and happening downtown Minneapolis.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was in the 3rd (or 4th?) grade on a Sunday night when my family turned on The Ed Sullivan Show as we did every Sunday night. I was sitting there in my jammies, about an inch from the television.

"Deborah, don't sit so close! You'll ruin your eyes." my momma admonished. I moved back another inch.

I did not remove my soon-to-be-ruined eyes for the entire hour of the show. I was telling my sister about this experience last night and I said, "I knew right then that my world was changing."

Sounds so dramatic! I just knew that we had never seen anything like what we were watching.

I vaguely heard my dad grumbling about their hair and sassy ways, but I did not pay any mind. I was falling love.

My heart was beating fast and I wanted to cry. They were so beautiful! They were so cute! They were so adorable.

I was in. In and blindly a follower.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My sister called several weeks ago wanting me to go with her to see Rain when they came to Minneapolis. I said YES! She is nearly nine years younger than me, but because I was her big sister she was forced to listen to what I listened to and she developed a love for The Beatles that nearly overshadows mine.

So the two of us were the perfect pair to go to see the tribute band, Rain.

If you think I'm annoying, you should be with me when my sister is along. She's not annoying, but the two of us together are kinda loud and electric. We come from a long line of electric and loud people. Our people are loud!

That's okay. We were ready to get our Beatle on and the show was fabulous. We sang along, danced when the crowd stood up (I have to say that the Minneapolis crowd last night was rather stiff - lots of money in that room and I will make this observation - no joyous movement was to be seen).

There would be the lone dancer - standing and moving - only to quickly sit down. Very few heads were bobbing from our vantage point. In fact, the couple in front of me didn't move once. The Nordic folk are the stoic kind. I'm sure they were getting their grove on in their own way. At least I pray they were.

My sister and I had pre-gamed at my house a bit (white wine anyone?) and since Pup had lovingly volunteered to drive our arses to and from the venue we could have additional libations at The Orpheum. Which we did.

I switched it up to scotch and when the barkeep handed me a TUMBLER (shouldn't there be some rocks when one orders scotch and rocks??) of liquor my sister advised me to, "sip this, SIP THIS." I did the best I could.

I had big plans to get BlackBerry shots of us enjoying the show, but, of course, I got lost in the moments and never got them. Apparently my BlackBerry was too busy butt-dialing people in my contact list. Sorry my lovelies! One friend left a voice-mail saying how much they were enjoying the music on my message. {sheepish}

A splendid time is guaranteed for all!

Planet Fitness

Pup and I (my husband) joined a gym nearly three weeks ago. He's a CPA and during his season he is literally sitting in a chair from about 8:00 a.m. until 1:00 a.m. I am not even lying.

Not good.

And heaven knows I need to move more and more and more.

I told him on that day that I was finding us a gym and we were going to join. His criteria was it needed to be close to his office or he probably would find excuses to not go. Game on dude! I love challenges.

I started poking around and reading reviews and measuring distances. Planet Fitness stood out for us.

I also found out that there are only two of these franchises in Minnesota and they are both owned by Corey Koskie, former Minnesota Twin. Swoon. Swoon. I have a thing for baseball players. Something about arms and arses . . . oh sorry! I just left for a second.

His business model is to provide a place where new and established gym goers could have a comfortable environment to work out. Their credo is no grunters and no weight throwers. Work out and be respectful.

It's a no-frills gym. Just the basics. All the equipment is nice, the showers and locker rooms are actually very lovely. A tad fancy even. Lots of cardio equipment. Lots of machines, lots of free weights. There is a stretching and yoga area, a circuit training area (much like Curves), cardio area, machine area, and free-weight area.

I haven't had to wade through millions of naked people. That's a plus in my book. For some reason, the last gym I belonged to had all kinds of naked people in the locker rooms. I must be way too American in my prudery and having to ask a chimichanga-baring woman to please excuse me so I can get into my locker and as I'm sitting there pulling off my shoes get stared at by another naked woman - well it was too much for this girl. Made me so uncomfortable! Am I weird? Pup said that wouldn't have bothered him in the least. Ha!

We opted for the premium membership ($20 a month - yup) and discovered that our health insurance (bless you Blue Cross Blue Shield) will cover the monthly if we go three times a week. THREE TIMES A WEEK. Motivation peeps. Motivation.

So far we've been going the three times a week. I am really liking it! In fact we're going this morning before Pup heads off to work (yep, he works Saturdays and Sundays right now! Poor Pup).

Me! Going to the gym on Saturday!

Can you see how buff I'm looking already?

Tag and Out!

I have been tagged by the smart and lovely Marnie from over at What Red Said. I'm gonna get that girl!

Why is it when I start reading the rules I want to break each and every one! I'm a bad bad girl.

The Rules Are:
1. You must post the rules.
2. Post eleven fun facts about yourself on the blog post. (isn't this one redundant?)
3. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post and then create eleven new questions to ask the people you've tagged.
4. Tag eleven bloggers, however, you can break the rules and tag fewer people if you want.
5. Let them know you've tagged them!
6. Have fun!

These are the questions that Marnie is sending out to her tagees:

1. Favorite all-time junk food...what is it?
Doritos. I have a hard time even walking by the small grab-bags at Target's check-out lines! If you want to get lucky with me, just bring me a bag of Doritos. Yes, dating me was that easy.

2. What was your first job?
I worked at a movie theater as a cashier when I was in high school. One of those old fashioned theaters where the cashier sat in a window right on the sidewalk practically. Made doing anything untoward very very difficult. Not that I ever wanted to, but just saying, you know, if I HAD wanted to . . . {awkward silence]

3. Have you ever been in a fist fight?
What? No no no. I have made a couple of people cry with my words though. I can be a mean beasty-girl if I think I need to be.

4. Octomom...hot or not?
Swoosh. That was the sound of the question flying right on by me.

5. What kind of car do you drive?
I drive a 2005 Jeep Wrangler named Ruby. I love her.

6. How often do you shower?
Every day. Maybe not on Sundays sometimes. Lucky husband!

7. Do you have any tattoos? If so, how many?
I have one little tattoo on my left foot. I am considering another one. I've heard no one can stop at just one. Kinda like Doritos. Or is that potato chips?

8. If you could have dinner with anyone in the world (dead or alive) who would it be?
Hmm . . . Dorothy Parker. I think we would have been great friends. I hope she would have found me not only annoying, but a bit entertaining.

9. What book are you reading now?
Keith Richard's bio.

10. Rhett or Ashley from Gone with the Wind? Choose.
I would want Rhett Butler to look at me like this. Mmmm!

11. Do you make your bed in the morning?
Every damn day.

I am tagging these bloggers cuz I want to know a few things:

So. Cal. Gal from Just a chick in a chair . . .
Shabbgal from Shabby Nest
Brett from Silvergirl
T from Learning to Exhale
Lisa from Not So Simply Single
Karen from This Old House 2

My Questions:

1. Left or right handed?
2. Introvert or extrovert?
3. Dog or cat?
4. Coffee or tea?
5. Cream or black?
6. Carnivore or vegetarian?
7. Stairs or escalator?
8. Shopper or buyer?
9. Dancer or drinker? {you know, at the clubs - heh}
10. Car singer or car dancer?
11. Naked or jammies?

I can't wait for the answers!

Rock em and sock em hooches . . . smooch.