Thoughts From the Dirty City

There are days when things go horribly, horribly wrong. Days when the stars align and the earth splits open and swallows you whole with the horrible, no good, very bad things that happen.

Those days hurt.

Obviously.

But sometimes, nothing goes horribly wrong.  The world spins as it should and gravity seems to hold you precisely where you belong. And out of no where and with no warning the earth splits and swallows you whole just the same.The tiniest flutter of fate and everything is knocked hopelessly off course.

It’s a like a power outage.

It takes you by surprise.

Shakes you down and momentarily immobilizes you.

And gives you no real answer as to how to fix it. Because to all intents and purposes there is nothing wrong. You look hard at every detail, but the only broken pieces have been long broken.  Nothing has really gone a miss. Nothing has altered in any tangible way. And since nothing has actually gone wrong, the only logical assumption is that EVERYTHING is wrong.
(logic in the midst of a minor depression isn’t reliable – fyi)

But the day still hurts.

I’m having one of the second type of days. Nothing has gone wrong, and yet I feel stuck in the throws of an emotional collapse with no real recourse. I felt it coming on yesterday. Convinced myself it was just fatigue. But there it was this morning the moment I opened my eyes.

I’ve had days like this before. Days where everything seems hopeless, hapless, worthless…pretty much “less” in every way imaginable. So I know that this feeling is fleeting. I know it will pass as quickly as it set in. Maybe even quicker. The clouds will part, my lungs will fill up and everything will be as it was. Gravity will find me. I just need to breath and hold myself to the ground until it does.

______________________________________

Feelings are tricky for me. I don’t like feeling them, and I like discussing them even less. This was really REALLY hard for me to write. But I’m trying. Trying to be a bit more open. A bit more “in touch” with my emotions and a bit less reluctant to share.

Also – My next post needs to be written when I’m in a good mood. I’m not always so doom and gloom. At least, I don’t think I am….

Oh winter, you have barely just arrived and I’m already counting down the days till you leave. You are like the bad house guest that drinks all the wine and leaves the toilet seat up. It’s expected, but unpleasant all the same.

My commute in to work this morning was total crap. The roads were clear and it wasn’t snowing, but winter ruined it anyway.

There are certain preparations that one must take before hitting the road in winter; warming up the car, clearing off the snow and ice, making sure your windshield wipers aren’t caked in ice, and also, picking the snow out of the windshield washer fluid thingies on the hood. All small simple tasks, but forget one and you will regret it.

This morning I forgot one and spent the entire drive unable to wash my windshield of slush and salt. It isn’t the worst thing in the word. You sidle up to some passing semis to get enough ick on your car so the windshield wipers can do their thing. And there is usually at least one spot you can see through if you tilt and perch a bit. So really, not all that big a deal. But yeah, annoying.

I know what you are thinking. Why didn’t I just pull over and fix it? Because I’m lazy…especially at 7 a.m. Besides, I made it to work just fine aside from being irritable.

This is where the story takes a bit of a turn.

After I parked my car and geared up with my bag and travel mug, I locked the car door and slammed it shut with the hem of my coat still unfortunately inside the car. Normally this would be no big deal. Unlock the door, remove coat, proceed with day. But when the lock on the driver side door is broken and can’t be unlocked from the outside, it presents a bit of a problem.

So I took my coat off and let it fall to the disgusting salt and sludge covered parking lot and walked around to the other side of the car to unlock the door. While doing this (and freezing my ass off in the process) another car pulled in beside mine running over the bit of my coat that was on the ground.

This is my life.

In the end, me, my car and my coat all made it in to the office on time today. If only a bit worse for the wear.

The moral of my story: being lazy inevitably just ends up making more work. Also, I’m done with winter now.

I’ve started this post a few times, not quite knowing where to begin.

There was a time in my life where I had a very clear and defined sense of personal style. Getting dressed in the morning wasn’t a chore. The more time I spent putting an outfit together the better I felt all day. I had a sense of confidence in how I looked and what I wore. Even if it did get some stares and more than a little mockery from fellow classmates. And that really is what having a sense of style is all about. Being confident no matter what other people might think.

At some point though, and I can’t remember exactly when, I seemed to have lost that entirely. These days I dress more to cover my bits and be appropriate than anything else.

I got a necklace for Christmas this year with implicit instructions to return it if I didn’t like it. When I showed it to a friend they smiled and said “you aren’t going to return it are you?” Of course I wasn’t going to return it. But every time I looked at it I wondered if it was really “me.” Is a silver peace sign reflective of my personal style? At one point in my life it would have absolutely been a perfect reflection of my style. But now? I wasn’t sure.

And then something hit me. I realized I wasn’t so concerned about figuring out if I liked it or not as much as I was trying to figure out if that is how people saw me. The realization pissed me off so much that I instantly put the necklace on and haven’t gone a day without wearing it since. When the hell did other people’s opinions become more important to me than my own?

If me 10-15 years ago would have heard the internal dialogue going on inside my head in that moment I would have punched myself in the face.

How did this happen?

Is it just a part of getting older?

Is it just that I am far more self conscious than I used to be?

Is it because of the weight gain?

Ugh. No more. I know that I am not the same person I was a 15 years ago. And I’m thankful for that in many ways. But I miss parts of that girl. The part that was willing to walk down the street head held high, oblivious to the cat calls of “hey freak.” I miss that confidence. I miss that unshakable sense of self.

And there is no reason I can’t have that part back. It’s still in me, all I have to do is find it…

PS – thanks for the necklace Mom. But more than that, thanks for the reminder.

Okay, it really wasn’t all that bad. Actually, as far as years go, it was pretty good. Some ups, some downs and one tragic loss that will forever change my family. Overall though I would say it was a pretty good year.

I’ve never really been into the whole “New Years Eve” thing as something to celebrate. It just feels like any other day trying desperately to be important. And any attempt I’ve made to make any sort of deal about it has felt forced and unnatural. Birthday’s seem a more appropriate time to feel the rush and relief of “surviving another year.” I don’t know what it is that I can’t get my head into about this day. I wish I could. Sometimes I wish I could be one of those bouncing dancing fools filled with the hope and possibilities in that magic moment a new year begins. But I’m not, and I’m okay with that.

I can’t however deny there is a part of me that internally marks this moment as an opportunity to start making changes to improve my life. It’s hard to avoid, but I try. I don’t try to avoid making changes and improving myself. I try avoiding the thought that some magical date on the calendar is somehow going to make those changes happen of their own accord. The thought that just because the page has been turned on a calendar I’m going to magically have the willpower to make changes I’ve been trying to make all year. It’s the perfect storm of setting myself up for failure, and that is what I’m trying to avoid.

Change isn’t easy. The striking of a clock and turning the page on the calendar (hell even buying a new calendar) isn’t going to make it any easier. There is no magic time, or place for change. Weather you are in Times Square or curled up in bed with a book, come midnight, my life is still my life. If I want something, I have to work for it. So I’m not going to rely on the date to make my life better. I’m going to try to wake up everyday feeling like it’s an opportunity for a fresh start and the ability to make my life whatever it is I want it to be.

There is one thing about a new year that I love. Getting a new planner   I know most people track their doings digitally these day, and it would probably be easier to just use the app on my phone. But there is something I love about having it all written out on pages. Inked in, unremovable for better or worse.

Each year when I get a new planner I use the notes section to mark down the memorable events of the previous year. I go through the old planner page by page remembering good times, and making note of them. It’s sort of my annual tradition of looking back and smiling about even small things that happened that may have slipped through the cracks in my memory.

Here are a few of the highlights from my “What happened in 2010 list”

My sister gave birth to a new member of the family. The cutest little boy on the planet. Welcome to earth little Jackson!

My brother got married to a lovely lady and had a fantastic party (where I had more than one to many and had a ball dancing and laughing the night away)

I got stitchtes for the first time in my life (got them twice this year actually) The first finger on my left hand has been deemed the “Franken Finger”

I watched both my nieces dance in their recitals with cute little outfits and nerves of steal. May they always have the confidence to get up on stage and do their thing in front of a crowd with a great big smile on their face and not a single once of doubt.

I saw my first live boxing match

Went snow tubing (fancy term for sled riding) and had a blast acting like a kid for a night

I rediscovered my love of zoos and animals and spent many a days wandering both the Akron and Cleveland zoo. I also got to spend and amazing day at the Columbus Zoo as well (it is awesome – if you haven’t gone, do it!)

A lot of great things happened this year that looking back on made me smile and a few that I would rather forget. There were some bad things that happened (it’s only natural) but I’m not going to mention them. Better to focus on the positive I think and move forward to another year of memory making.

Happy 2011 y’all

This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person was me. I had gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I was a bit early for the train. I’d gotten the time of the train wrong.

I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table.

I want you to picture the scene. It’s very important that you get this very clear in your mind.

Here’s the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There’s a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase.

It didn’t look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it.

Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There’s nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies.

You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know. . . But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper, couldn’t do anything, and thought, what am I going to do?

In the end I thought, nothing for it, I’ll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, that settled him. But it hadn’t because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie.

Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice . . .” I mean, it doesn’t really work.

We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away.

Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies.

The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who’s had the same exact story, only he doesn’t have the punch line.

(Excerpted from “The Salmon of Doubt: Hitchhiking the Galaxy One Last Time” by Douglas Adams)
(Taken from http://www.woltermanns.com/misc/cookies_Adams.htm)

I quite literally Stumbled* on to this today while trying to distract myself senseless from myself.  It got me to thinking. I have a lot of irritating and jarringly stupid interactions with people. We all do. Especially those of us lacking in the patience department. Anyway, what if those interactions are so blindingly irritating simply because we don’t have the punchline.

This is my attempt at not being bitter….
Yeah, I know.

Mostly though, I just really like Douglas Adams.

*If you don’t use stumblr, you should. It is the most efficient way to waste time I have ever found.

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”
- Mark Twain

Being born and raised in Akron, Ohio, the birth place of the cheeseburger (or so some say) I feel it is my obligation to breakdown what I know of the local burger fare. Not that I have tried every burger in town. Not even close. But I think I’ve hit most of the major ones. There is one or two that are still on my list…but for now, this is where I stand on burgers.

For me there are two basic types of burgers out there: the fast food variety, and the genuine “hey this is meat!” variety. Not that I think the more meaty is necessarily better. It’s just different. Both can be great or tragic depending. I’m not going to get into the specifics of what makes a burger great, go visit one of the magillion hipster foodie blogs out there if that is your bag. I will say there are a few key factors: bun, meat and cheese. That is all. Everything else is gratis. And gratis is great, especially in the form of saltyness.

Now then, I’ll start with the fancy foodie variety burgers. There are a BUNCH of these out there now. It seems like every restaurant in the universe has discovered if you put a fried egg on a burger you can charge ten bucks for it a la cart. With this in mind, I’m only going to talk about two such establishments here.

The first is the very popular and highly hipster friendly B-Spot.
Décor -  Nice and shiny. The only weirdness came from the fact that it was directly tied into the mall. It gave the one wall a very “food court friendly” vibe that wasn’t rockin in any other part of the establishment.

Food – I’m going to give it a full on “meh.” With a bonus thumbs up for a pickle bar. Man, I do love me some pickles.

Granted, I only ate there once. But in my defense I ordered a burger with salami on it and the salami was cold. WTF is that?! You don’t put cold meat on a burger, it’s just mean.

I also had the chips. They were good but the dip was way too salty. I love salt. I’ve been known to eat just salt as a side dish. And this was a tad salty, even for me. So be warned.

Drink – I skipped the adult beverages, but they do serve up milkshakes loaded with booze. How do you not love that?! (Personally – I like a few drinks and no desert, but that’s me) The beer menu was impressive, but they served the Beast in a can and charged more than a dollar for it. Fucking hipsters.

Second up is Pub Bricco.
This is an Akron (Cuyahoga Valley area) joint and sort of sister spot to the downtown Bricco. Personally, I liked it better than its more polished downtown counterpoint. But again, that’s me. I’m a jeans and t-shirt, beer in a can kind of bitch.

Décor – I ate outside so this isn’t a concrete opinion. I really only saw the joint as we walked through. The inside seemed nice, with a very modern, but laid back feel.
The patio was nice, with a view of the Valley and some street. I could tell it was set up to be super decked out at night. There were all kinds of funky lights strung up all over the place.
So yeah, the decor….it was okay. Nothing massively memorable aside from being nice.

Food – Yum city here folks. The menu is set up a bit different. You pick your protein (beef, chicken or salmon.) Then you pick the way it is served up.
I got a burger with a fried egg on a bagel. I thought the fried egg on a bagel would be a big mess and impossible to eat, but it was AMAZING. The egg smashed just right soaking into the bagel and not pouring all down my arm. And the chewy, salty meaty combo was delicious.

Drink – the martini gods of yesteryear are still doling out their blessings. Pomegranate Cosmopolitan. It was a bit on the sweet side, but seriously tasty. I know cause I had a few, just to be certain. (I know martini’s stopped being trendy forever ago. I don’t care. They are good and they take the edge off a long day of bitching. Sometimes baby needs a real drink.)

I know there are a million other ways and places to have a trendy burger – those are just the two I have taken notice of. If there are others that are better, please do tell!

But leaving it at that would be doing the burger world a serious injustice. Because as good as the trendy towers of beef may be, they don’t really resonate what most people are talking about when they say they want a burger. Most people are talking about the extra cheesy, extra salty, semi squished variety that is generally ordered from the inside of your car.

Mmmmmm. Take out.

Don’t even attempt to get on your holy horse and say “ew gross I would never.” Cause you do, and you like it.  Maybe not McD’s or Burger King, and that’s understandable. But there is at least one fast food joint out there that has your number. For me, it’s Swensons. All. The. Way.

Aside from the wide variety of tasty fried side orders (mushrooms, zucchini, and onion rings…oh my) they also have a mix and match milk shake menu! But even without all that, Swenson’s will always own the Burger world of my heart for one reason, the galley boy. Loaded with bbq and tarter sauce and god only knows what, the galley boy is the messiest and the most delicious double patty on the planet.

There is one other, larger, and much less interesting category of burger joint: every diner and eatery on the planet. There are too many to think about, let alone list. But I do feel a need to mention one. The Winder Pub is an Akron icon.

I have been going there for years. It isn’t the kind of place you brag about. It’s basically a beat up old dive bar. But the burgers are seriously good eats, and the prices are just insane. (Two people can eat and drink till they can barely move and spend less than $40.) However, any time I happen to mention the spot, everyone in Akron knows what I’m talking about. When you go, I recommend the Rocket Burger. It’s loaded with salami (heated up and made crispy – thank you) and banana pepper and all kinds of yummy spicy goodness. And while your there, you might as well have a couple pints of Labatt and some wings. Cause that is how you roll at the Windsor Pub.

So, what am I leaving out? What burger out there in the NEO area MUST I try?

PS

I’ve heard Dilly’s blows Swenson’s outta the water, but I’ve yet to try it so I can’t really say. Though I admit I am very doubtful.

Also – Menches. I know. It’s on the list.

No, I’m not talking about the star. I’m referring to satellite radio.

A few years ago I was commuting from Akron to Cleveland every day for work. When you are in the car for hour long stretches (some days longer) twice a day the radio can get tedious. It wasn’t even the commercials…it was just hearing the same ten songs over and over and over again. Even switching stations didn’t satisfy the need for something new to occupy me on the drive. So I turned to Howard Stern, who at least had something different to say each time I tuned in. It became a part of my routine.

Then all hell broke loose and satellite radio stole my morning tradition. Howard Stern left regular radio and went to satellite where he could do his thing unfiltered and untamed.  Thankfully I have an amazing friend who hooked me up with one of the funky new radios so I never skipped a beat. My morning commute continued on with even more entertainment than I had anticipated.

I fell in love with satelite radio pretty much instantly. The endless channels, including Discovery, Comedy and more music than you could ever hope for kept me more than satisfied during even the busiest of rush hours.  I was hooked and a die hard fan. Nothing could ever convince me to go back to regular radio. Or so I thought.

Fast forward a few years, and obviously much has changed in my life. Including eliminating the dreaded commute to the 216 everyday. I still spend a decent amount of time in my car, but nothing compared to those days. More and more I found myself defaulting to the standard hits channels and oldies channels on my Sirius. I just wasn’t around it long enough to go hunting for interesting programing on some of the more obscure channels.

Things on Sirius were changing too. They merged with XM radio with the promise of more channels and more entertainment. This came with a small hike in my monthly subscription fee. I persisted, but still noticed I wasn’t listening to any wider range than I had been the past few months. I went back and forth on wether or not to cancel my subscription. There is a lot of talk on Sirius programing about how terrible regular radio is with all its commercials and limited content. It gets in your head after a while.

But after realizing I still wasn’t really using the subscription to its full potential I decided the monthly fee of satellite radio just wasn’t worth it for my current situation. So yesterday morning I canceled my account. For the past two days I have been left to the wilds of regular radio. I have to say, it aint half bad! Yeah, there are commercials and the music choices are more limited. But I haven’t had any moments where I was just plain miserable and missing my old system.

Only time will tell if I will truly regret giving up on satellite radio. But for now I’m completely fine with the free waves being pumped through the speakers.

It does make me wonder though. How many other things in my life have I convinced myself are essential that are, in reality, completely expendable? Perhaps it’s time to start paying more attention. Who knows what else I could cut out and never miss.

On a side note, I realised something on the drive home today. One amazingly fantastic thing about regular radio is the local traffic and weather reports. I completely forgot about those! Yes, the satellite radio had a traffic and a weather station. Like I EVER tuned in to those.  Having someone just offer up that info every now and again regardless of what you are listening to is damn handy!

So, it’s been a while.

What can I say? Spring came and brought with it all kinds of stress and to-do lists. It also brought with it a sickness that leveled me for, what seemed like, an eternity. Once the plague had cleared up I was left with absolutely no desire to be a functioning member of society.  I got up, went to work (most days anyway) drove home and proceeded to sink into a fog. Honestly, I can’t tell you a single thing that I accomplished in May (and most of June). The entire month(s) came and went without me noticing.

Don’t get the wrong idea. It’s not like I was depressed or having some sort of emotional or mental collapse. It’s like I got really tired and nothing I did gave me any energy. I feel like I only partially woke up in the mornings. Slowly but surely the fog is clearing and more often than not I am feeling more inspired (or at least awake.)

I’ve started a new weight loss and exercise  program. I want to get to a place mentally and physically that will make me feel better in my own skin. I fear this is a never ending battle. One that I try not to focus on too much as the more I focus on it, the more insane it makes me. But I’m excited about the progress and general optimism I feel. I know that the biggest battle is in my head and with my own willpower to make the changes that need making.  Right now, I’m feeling good about the new insights and tools I’ve gathered to inspire me…so I’m going to roll with that.

I’m still not as inspired about some of the side projects I started in late winter. I think weather has a lot to do with that. An apartment without an air conditioner is not a prime place to bake in the middle of June.  But a shiny new fan with the power of three jet engines is helping…and I’m not giving up on the idea. Just slowing down a bit while the weather makes sticking my head in the freezer a more viable option than sticking a cake in the oven.

I’m not sure what shifted to suck the energy out of me last month. Or conversly, what has shifted to start pushing the energy scales in the other direction.  Feeling lazy and lifeless isn’t a good feeling though. And I’m doing what I can to avoid getting back to that point.

As the crazy evangelical dude from television you should never admit to watching said “Don’t just sit there. DOOOOOO something!”
(My brother and sister may be the only other people on the planet that will get the reference.)

I guess this is a warning of sorts. Prepare for a lot more blog posts about nothing as I cling to the idea that writing about nothing will inspire me to do something.

Hopefully by the end of this week I will be all caught up with the rest of the gang on the WT tasks.
The tasks for week 3 are Bottoms Up:

Part 1: Pile!
I have two basic pant piles, work pants and jeans. I should preface this by saying that I have recently endeavored to change my life and get healthy and active. Also, too loose weight. All good things. The only downside is a closet full of clothes that don’t quite fit anymore. Well, mostly. I’m slowly fixing this (mostly focused on jeans so far). But as I’m not at my goal weight yet I am reluctant to replace everything in my closet only to (fingers crossed) need to do it again in short order. That said, the work pants:

Velveteen Rabbits
The brown pair in the middle bottom. The photo doesn’t really do them justice. They are a rich chocolate brown and I have loved them and worn them to the brink of death. The bottom hem and the fabric itself is starting to look a bit haggard from too many trips through the washing machine. Since neither of these are things that can really be fixed, I know I should probably toss them right now. But I wont, I love them too much. As soon as I find a suitable replacement they are gone. Promise.

Torture Devices
Middle pair second from the top. While I love the cut of these (super wide leg with a big chunky cuff) the olive green just doesn’t quite go with anything. I pull it off with black tops but that seems to be their limit. Everything else I own just looks slightly off paired with them.
Also, the gray pair bottom right. They are just slightly too short to be worn with all my heels and just slightly too long to be worn with flats. I usually end up going with flats as I prefer a bit too long as compared to a bit too short.

Superstars
The black pair in the middle. They are the closest thing I have to pants that fit.
Stalwart Staples
Both pairs on the left. They are the perfect length for my modest heels and one or the other seems to go with everything I own.

Same Time, Next Year
When I piled my bottoms I had no shorts or skirts. That’s right. Not a single one. So there really wasn’t an opportunity for any of my pants to fall into this category. For the past few years I just haven’t been feeling the whole skirt thing so I figured why force it.
These days though, I’ve been kinda itching to go girly every now and again. To that end I have gone shopping this weekend and acquired a skirt! Huzah. I know, just the one. But it’s a start!! And it’s a summery skirt, so come next round I will have at least one thing to list in this category.
As for shorts…I would prefer to stick to a skirt or jeans. I’m just not comfortable in shorts. Ever. They just feel all wrong on my body no matter the length or fabric type.

Sentimental Journeys
None. I’m not really attached to any of my pants.

Jeans:

Velveteen Rabbits
They aren’t pictured because I was wearing them at the time. They are the most comfortable pair of jeans I have ever owned. They fit just right. Granted, they are probably too loose for most people’s tastes but I love them. But the years of wear have left the bottoms frayed the pockets worn and the the fabric over the knee is nearly transparent. Again, I know I should probably just give up the ghost. Chances are I’m going to hang on to them until they are completely unwearable.

Torture Devices
Second pair from the right. They fit. I guess. I just don’t get jeans with stretch in them. I don’t like anything clinging to my hips the way that these do. I usually only wear them when all other options are dirty.
Oh, and the pair just to the left of those. They are officially too big to wear and are getting tossed. No clue why I have hung on to them as long as I have.

Superstars
The pair on the far left. They are a bit light to qualify for “nice/dressy” jeans, if there is such a thing. But the wide leg cut seem to make them a bit more appropriate when my worn down denim just wont do. Also, they have some great detailing and look really cute with a nice cardigan.
Stalwart Staples
The pair to the far right. They aren’t destroyed so I can wear them in public without feeling shame, but they still fit loose in the “boyfriend” jean style I prefer. Also, the dark wash seems to make them a bit more flexible. As a bonus they are on the long side so I can get away with a low heel if I want. Or one quick roll and they are good to go with flip flops.

Same Time, Next Year
See above. I don’t do shorts.

Sentimental Journeys
Again. None.

There was a holiday…so I was busy with family and visiting and all the standard stuff that comes with a holiday. I’m still trying to recover a bit from the whirlwind fatigue that follows. I’m looking forward to the free time of my usual weekend. One that will allow for extra sleep and some much needed catching up.

Work has been keeping me more than busy.
The planning and preparing for a big annual event has me spinning a bit. Stress and worry that everything wont get done on time has been giving me daily panic attacks.  Too many days when the list of things to do seems to be growing exponentially and the days are ticking off faster and faster. I start to fret. Okay, more like completely freak out.

Slowly but surely it’ll get there though. I just need to remember to breath and keep plugging away. Eventually it will all get done. Or the event will happen without whatever it is I am fretting over that moment. Either way, by mid May it will all be over. No reason to panic. Like everything else in life, just breath and keep moving!

Side Projects
I’ve also been spending a lot of time thinking and planning for a new side project. It involves something I have been thinking about doing for a while now. Recently I decided to just do it now rather than wait for the “perfect” time. I’m just going to do it and let the chips fall where they may.

I’ve realized it can’t happen all big and grand the way it is in my daydreams. That just isn’t realistic. I’ve also realized that doesn’t mean it can’t happen at all though. Everything has to start somewhere. I’ve got a rough idea of where to start and I’m working on making it happen.

How was that for vague?
It’s really early in the planning and thinking stages and not a whole lot has been decided yet. So there isn’t a whole lot to say specifically at the moment. But soon! Hopefully very soon. For now I’m just excited for the prospect. That initial step.  The decision to move forward. I just know in my heart that it’s time to make some changes. Shake the dust off the routine. Step outside my comfort zone and try something new.

I’m trying to enjoy the process and remember that all the work is because its something I want to be doing, not something I HAVE to be doing. That line of thinking seems to be counter to my nature. I’m a “dig your heels in and get the job done” kinda girl. And while that is great under a deadline, it can occasionally be a fun-sponge to tasks I would prefer to savor and enjoy. Hopefully this little adventure will help to curb that tendency a bit as I move forward, remembering to take my time and enjoy it.

I can’t wait for it to start to really take shape so I can share more!

Wardrobe Therapy
No worries, all my babbling and griping about clothes will return soon.

I am woefully behind on my wardrobe therapy tasks. Week 3 came and went and week 4 is here. How is that possible? Time moves in the craziest ways.

Anyway, a continuation post to the week 2 task regarding support garments (targeting sports bras) was in the works. Considering how backlogged I am though, I may just skip that and revisit it at a later date.  Cause really, as long as they keep the girls firmly in place while everything else is flying akimbo who cares. It’s the gym, style doesn’t count.

For now, I have a date with a pile of ill fitting pants and a polyvore account to create

See you all on the up side!

I admit it, I have been putting off this post. The topic is something I am self conscious about and have not looked forward to discussing. It is what it is though. The time has come to accept, get over and learn to love.  Blah. Blah. Blah.

Anyway, be warned. There will be talk of my bras, my breast size and inevitably a ton of whining and bitching – there will not be pictures.

The task: turn a stern eye on your support garments

That is the only kind of eye I have for my support garments. Alright, that may be a bit dramatic. But honestly, shopping for bras at my cup size is one part depressing and ten parts frustrating.

The problem is I am a DD. The majority of shops carry this size only in styles best fitting someone with blue hair and a walker. It is beyond hard to find my size in something cute, age appropriate and well made. Not impossible, just hard and torturous. And when I say well made, I mean it. I don’t buy cheap bras. At this size they NEED to be well made. Not to say that I really have issues with sag or droop (I’m pretty lucky in that regard) but gravity is a motherfucker and I don’t take chances. Also, cheap bras in a DD don’t exist – at least not cute ones.

My current undergarment collection consists of:
two completely function only, all white and super supportive numbers that are generally worn under work clothes (though one of them is starting to look a little worse for the wear and needs replacing)

ONE super cute superstar that I am in love with and wear to often. It puts, and keeps the girls exactly where they are supposed to be

Two overly padded demi-cut numbers that I rarely wear (seriously – who the fuck pads a DD?? And what was I thinking when I bought them?)

Two others that are complete torture devices. Both are super cute and fit perfectly. However, they are minimizer bras. In theory, I love this because I am incredibly self conscious about my chest and always looking for ways to play that area down a bit. In reality all they do is flatten my lady lumps into pancake/shelf like oddities. Ugly and uncomfortable. These got tossed.

The rest are staples. Colorful cotton numbers that just do what they are supposed to do without making me feel elderly or matronly. These also are starting to show some age and should be replaced.

Time to go shopping I suppose. I keep hearing rumors that peeps like Oprah have brought more attention to the shopping worlds short comings when it comes to proper support garments for larger ladies. Here’s hopin’!

In addition to making piles, the participants of Wardrobe Therapy were asked to indentify their Joyous Colors.

Joyful Colors: These are colors that make you happy. With any luck, some of them also give you clear skin and sparkling eyes when worn next to your face. (Quick-and-dirty trick: match your eye color or go with its color-wheel opposite.) We will talk about “color my season” systems when I post my answers on this topic, but I’m urging you to start with colors you like rather than with someone’s color cards. (Mella is hereby issued a “bye” from having an emotional response to color.)

There isn’t a color that I don’t like, so that is a bit of a tricky question for me. So I’m just going to start with colors I’m told I look good in based on the “season system”.

I have always been told, and for the most party agree, that I am a winter.  I say this because I have pale skin with very pink undertones, hazel eyes and dark brown/black hair with red highlights. According to most books and websites winters look best in deep/rich jewel tones and dark neutrals. They also say unsaturated white based pastels work. For the most part I agree. All those colors do look great on me. Except, okay I don’t agree at all. In fact I think the entire system is flawed.

I studied color a bit in art school and the real trick is learning what base color looks good on you. By base color I mean a primary. Every color under the sun has a base of yellow, red or blue. Personally, I look best in tones with a blue base. Red can work too, as long as it doesn’t have a lot of yellow in it.

This is also why I think everyone can wear black (and gray, but it’s a bit trickier as the base is harder to distinguish). All blacks sway a bit to one of the primary colors. It’s usually pretty subtle. Until you put two black shirts next to each other that have a different base colors that is. Yellow based blacks always look a little green next to a red or blue based black. In a perfect world this wouldn’t happen as black is truly the most neutral of all the colors.

One of my first color study assignments was to create black paint by mixing all the primaries together. We were told nothing except that the mix would not contain equal parts of each color. Oh, and that the actual primaries are cyan, magenta and yellow. I must have blazed through a dozen bottles of each pigment never actually reaching a perfect black. In the end, no one did. It was later explained that paints are also slightly flawed and therefore will never give you perfect results. Lighting and dilution can also effect it. But it was a great way to teach just how powerful the base color really is.

(Oh, and it’s equal part cyan and magenta with a little yellow added till black is achieved. Try it, it’s fun!)

(Wait…how did I get that off course? Real it back in Bet!)

Deep breath.Wow, that was the most long winded explanation of:
I can pull of anything with a blue base and most things with a red base….just keep me away from yellow. It makes me look jaundiced.

I take that back, I love lime green and wear it anyway.

So there you have it. I have no REAL rules when it comes to color. I love it too much to limit it in any way.

Something is missing. I have written an entire post on color without a single photo or example. That will not do….

Inspiration for colors that I love, covet and am looking for right now generally come from the Pantone site. Every season they do an amazing fashion color report. Check out the full color report, along with all kinds of other color goodies here and here.

I almost forgot!

A few weeks ago I started this. I have trouble getting things done on the weekend. I just go into these zones and the next thing I know it is Sunday evening and I am scrambling to accomplish something. So I decided that every Friday I would list FIVE things I want to accomplish over the weekend. The very next Thursday I sliced and diced my hand and gave myself a pass on accomplishing anything.

But I can’t justify, or stand the thought of yet another weekend getting by without actually doing something. Anyway, here they are (cause i know you all care SOOO much how I’m gonna spend my weekend) the five things Imma do before Monday:

1) Spring clean my car – inside and out

2) Cleveland film fest and Melt

3) Finish up week 2 wardrobe therapy tasks

4) Learn to properly curl my hair

5) Spring clean at least one room in my apartment (bathroom is almost done – just need to hit the floor one more time and gut the linnen closet)

I think this is how I must look every Friday afternoon when leaving the office.
It is certainly how I feel.
(click image to view)

Just a quick update:

Last week I wrote about the tragic mishap that led to me needing 7 (I counted when the bandage came off) stitches. I’m not posting the picture of it all unwrapped (you’re welcome) but I will post this one:

I took that yesterday and today’s bandage is even smaller! Hooray for being able to use my left hand again. Still have to keep it clean and dry and stuff, but for the most part all the pain and discomfort is gone. And now that the bandage is shrinking I can wiggle my fingers. That means the cramping and aching from keeping it straight all the time (due to the bandage) is going away.

It still looks gross under there, but no where near as bad as I was expecting. The healing process has started so the skin is shrinking. I can already see and feel some scaring and the skin is getting that nice shiny dead look. Eventually that will fade and the skin will soften up. I remind myself of this every time I clean it.

The really good news is my nail. There is some bruising where the stitches are but I don’t think it is going to fall off. Another hooray for manicures in the not so distant future!!

The stitches come out on Tuesday. I’m more nervous about that than I care to admit. But my friends assure me it is totally painless so I’m trying not to freak. Additionally, I am so ready to not have stitches anymore that the fear is balanced out.

I know I’m still giong to have a bit of time before it is totally healed. My hope is that after the stitches come out I will at least be fully functional again. As of right now, typing and washing my hair among many other things are still a royal pain in the ass.

It’s week two of Wardrobe Therapy! What does that mean? Time to pile some shirts (and at some point bras…but I’m saving that torture for another post). If you have no idea what “piles” are all about you can read all about them on drwende’s site here. Honestly though, they aren’t too complicated.

Anyway. Tops. Sorting. Ugh. I knew this little project was going to turn into work eventually. Okay, that might be a BIT dramatic. The truth is, I got A LOT of clothes. Most of which I don’t wear. Which is exactly why I signed up for this little adventure.

I’m not going to pile every top I own here. Well not for photographic purposes anyway. Though it would probably do me good to go the extra mile. For now, I’m just going to focus on the highlights.

Pile 1: Velveteen Rabbits

Not as bad as I expected. I have a tendency to hang on to clothing long past their expiration date. I’m actually fairly impressed half my closet isn’t in that photo.

At the top there is my hoodie. I live in that hoodie. It is fading and the pocket on the front is coming undone. There is no good way to go about fixing faded black cotton. This one really just needs to be replaced.

Same with the tee sitting next to it. At one point I think that gray was almost black. Sad, but true.

See also the three shirts on the bottom left. An assortment of short sleeve black tops. One tee, one polo and one button up.  All faded and in desperate need of replacing.

To the right is evidence of my addiction to cardigans. It’s a common addiction and one I’m not remotely ashamed of. I can’t say the same for these particular cardigans though. Pilling, missing buttons and a string of beads that are barely clinging to life. All mendable.

As a side note: anyone noticing a color theme? Black. I admit, I love black and own way more of it than I ought. But I also love color and wear it often. The thing is, I dress in layers. Even in the summer. I can’t tell you the last time I wore just one top. So I own a ton of black. It’s neutral and makes throwing color into another layer super easy.

Pile 2: Torture Devices

Yeah so I got more than a few of these for various reasons.

The top pic is my collection of jackets (those not belonging to suits).

There was a time in my life when my job required that I wear a jacket everyday. Those pictured are the ones left behind. They come in handy from time to time when I need to look professional but don’t need to be in a suit. And honestly, I love the idea of a nice jacket.

The problem are my shoulders. They are a bit broad and nothing really accentuates that like a jacket. I always feel like a linebacker when I wear them.

Bottom pic: The two button ups on the left are too big for me everywhere except the bust. I feel super frumpy whenever I wear them. It’s a problem I have with almost all button up shirts. But they look semi polished under the jackets with a nice pair of pants and they are well suited for my current job (aside from the fit). And they are nice in the summer for the office because they are light weight and easy.

Just below the button up is a cute little gypsy blouse that I totally fell in love with and actually looks cute on me. There are a few problems. The sleeves are a tad too revealing and I’m self conscious about my arms. But that is easily fixed with a cardigan. Also the neckline is elastic and irritates the crap outta me. It itches and clings and generally makes me miserable. I can’t remember the last time I wore it. It’s gone.

Below that are three sweaters that are just a bit to snug in all the wrong places making me feel like a sausage in knit casing. Gone.

Bottom right. I love this shirt. I thought I would hate it thinking the ruffles would add unwanted bulk to my chest. But when I put it on it did amazing things and managed to balance all my body parts out perfectly. And it’s a button up. It was like a miracle. The problem, those ruffles are IMPOSSIBLE to iron and it always just ends up looking sloppy and bad. I’m not getting rid of it, but I don’t have a ton of hope for it surviving much longer in my closet.

The rest are tees that sadly shrunk in the dryer. I love them too much to part with them, but they generally end up being worn under things and even then make me feel like I can’t breath. Oh, and the black one is actually of my own design so no chance am I getting rid of that.

Pile 3: Superstars

Sadly, I have none. Don’t get me wrong I have clothes that I love, but none of them are anything noteworthy. Certainly not anything that could be deemed “superstar”.

Pile 4: Stalwart Staples

This is where the bulk of my wardrobe sits. Staples. I mentioned I liked to layer. This should show just how much I meant that.

I have a huge collection of tanks, pictured top left (perfect for summer layering). And an ever more insane collection of long sleeved tees (perfect for fall and winter layering – living in Ohio that is pretty much all we have). I also have quite a few basic tees and hoodies that work well for layering anytime of year. I didn’t picture them because I ran out of room.

You may also notice this is generally where all the color comes into play. Loads of color in every variety. Though I do try to avoid pastels as they wash me out. I have dark hair but very pale skin (more on color in a separate post).

Bottom left are two random shirts that look great both over and under other shirts. I wear them often. Now that I think about it, both may sort of qualify as superstars. They are right there on the line.

What you do not see pictured are 3/4 sleeves. I am on the tall side and they always just seem a tad off on my body and I am totally uncomfortable in them.

Pile 5: Same Time, Next Year

These are my winter staples. The one on the left is winter casual. On the right is the go-to office appropriate. I have lots of sweaters but these two saw lots of action this winter. They are super easy to throw over pretty much anything.

Pile 6: Sentimental Journeys

On the left is the shirt that pretty much defines my youth. At least in my mind. I never wore it often but I can’t ever imagine parting with it.

On the right is a dress that was gifted to me. By a boy. And I absolutely love it. It’s super slinky and sparkly, and when it fit it hit my body in all the right places. I have never had a dress that made me feel so amazing. Working to someday fit into it again as I still think it is just amazing.

Pile 7: Mysteries of the Lost Shopping Trip

In theory, they are all pretty. The real problem, synthetic fibers. Even when over another shirt they cling in weird ways and generally make me feel like I am wrapped in cling wrap. Also, many incorporate elastic in some way shape or form. So, cling wrap with a rubber band.

Oh, except for the one on the top right. It’s a hoodie. And cotton. And orange. All things I love. But its got this hawaiian floral print thing happening. WTF was I thinking? I don’t do floral, especially hawaiian floral.

Lessons:

1. Avoid synthetic fabric and anything with elastic.

1A. I like cotton.

2. GET SOME SUPER STARS. Seriously. I need some special pieces in my wardrobe.

3. When black becomes gray, replace the shirt.

4. Me and button ups don’t get along. Avoid them for the most part.

5. Keep on layering, but try to avoid the super basics as I am well covered on those.

6. Jackets are great, but not with these shoulders. Perhaps there is one out there cut just right…I’ll have to keep my eyes peeled.

7. Add more color in different ways.

I have deemed it the FrankenFinger.

(the bruising doesn’t show in this pic, but the swelling and current bandaged-ness does)

See, I had a bit of an accident at work yesterday. Took off a large potion of my finger with an exacto. Luckily, I work in a hospital so the ride to the ER was quick. Six (maybe 7 – cant really remember – the brain does funny things in moments like that) stitches later, including one or two through my nail, and humpty dumpty was all put back together again.

I’m not entirely sure what is going on under the bandage right now. Shock and adrenaline made me a bit loopy during the ER visit and thankfully I don’t really remember much. Tomorrow I take off the bandages to asses the damage, clean and rebandage. I fully admit the thought off seeing it terrifies me.

The lack of use of my left hand makes typing a bit tricky, along with pretty much everything else. But as soon as I can type again without wanting to scream there will be a new post all about life with only one hand. By then I am hoping to see the humor in the hot mess antics that are my current situation. (Hey, you try washing your hair with one hand!)

Also, there go all my lovely manicure plans for then near future. Due to the stitches through my nail it is probably going to fall off. Booo.

This is my life, as a clutz.

1. Remove one (and only one!) unsuccessful item from your wardrobe.I mentioned in my previous post I was considering one of my many bottles of OPI. But finding a bottle I was willing to part with was proving to be a bit more challenging than I figured it would be. Thankfully, I had a backup plan – jeans.We all have jeans that don’t fit, never fit, or that we are saving in hopes they will fit again. I have samplings of each of these. So I moved on to the denim drawer. Fully prepared to toss one of the offenders.  Specifically, the 7 for All Mankind jeans pictured below. It isn’t that they don’t fit. For the longest time these fell into the category of “jeans I hope to fit into again someday” Well, magically they do fit. And I do love them. However, they are worn, have paint stains and ever expanding holes. They aren’t big enough or slouchy enough to pull off any of these traits with any kind of style or intention.

   But they are comfy, and they are the “HOLY SHIT THEY FIT AGAIN” jeans. So I started to wonder…

   

   Ah memories.

   Yes. Memories. It hit me that these were not the worst offenders of hangeroner pants in my wardrobe. Nope. That award goes to these bad boys.

   

   They are so offensive I had pretty much forgotten I owned them.

   Are they khakis? Camel colored dress pants? Does it matter? Truth is, no matter what specific category they fall into, they have never looked good on me. They cling where they shouldn’t, droop in ways I didn’t think were possible…and well, the pockets. For the love of god, the pockets. They gape and hang and generally make a mockery of my hips. Goodbye ugly ill fitting pants! I will not miss you.

2. Do the opening questionnaire.
3. Find yourself some sources of inspiration on personal style.I fully admit to loving fashion mags. I have long since let my subscriptions to Vogue and Cosmo laps, but from time to time I indulge and pick up and issue that looks interesting.
   I especially love the slightly unknown/foreign ones you can pick up in bookstores.
   So yeah, the obvious: Vogue, Cosmo, Purple, Glamor, InStyle, etc.

   In addition to fashion mags I LOVE design mags like HOW. The are a great source of inspiration especially in regards to interesting color combos and up and coming designers that tend to be fashion forward.

   My favorite fashion website is http://nymag.com
   The Cut (blog).This is a great site for checking in on the latest fashion shows.

   I also love to people watch and try to make mental notes when I see something cute. (I also admit to checking out the trainwrecks and making mental notes of those putting them in the – NEVER DO THAT – category)

4. Do something that makes you feel good about your body.The mani / pedi treatment is part of my routine. It’s not so much that I feel a NEED to do it every week. I just find it relaxing and usually by the end of the week I need a mindless task like painting my nails to clear the cobwebs from the workweek.

   I would love to list that as my “feel good” task, but I sort of feel like it’s cheeting. Though I will add it has been a LONG time since I have gotten a prof. pedi and may do this very soon – but not this week.

   Instead, I’ve decided to indulge myself with a season pass to the Zoo. I’m lucky to have one about ten minutes from my house. Every summer I go a few times and usually by the end of summer I am kicking myself because for the same price of my few visits I could have had a pass and come as often as I wanted. Plus, I love the idea of spending idle weekend afternoons chilling at the zoo with my camera and sketchbook. (Imma leave out all the feelings of guilt about caged animals and stuff. Yeah it’s there. Whatever.)
   As a bonus, a pass to my local zoo will also get me into the big fancy zoo just a bit farther north.

   Hooray summer – your almost here!

This weeks Wardrobe Therapy task includes getting rid of ONE item. This is photographic proof that I am contemplating making my one item a bottle of nailpolish. There are a few bottles in that line up that don’t get worn often. But there are isn’t a single color there that NEVER got worn. And for the most part I really like all of the colors. But there are a few that are getting a little old and should be replaced. Sigh

Now I just have to decide wich one…or maybe I’ll get real and toss one of the MANY pairs of ill fitting jeans I have.