Seeking New Relationship

Young Businesswoman seeks constant companionship.

Must be available 365 days per year. Required height to be no more than 9", no less than 7". Width to be no more than 7", no less than 5". Spiral binding and/or elastic enclosure requested; binder styles not desired. Failure to provide one page per date is not acceptable. Pre-printed time slots is discouraged, though perforated corners for ease of use a bonus. Understanding of design and aesthetic persona a plus, although provisions for personalization will be considered.

Failure to fulfill these requirements will result in immediate rejection.

Position to begin January 1, 2010. Vacancy to be reevaluated on an annual basis, although first right of refusal may be extended upon expiration of contract.

Please apply in person.

Survived the Drama. Survived the Panic. Survived the Party.

Eleven years. That's how long two of my friends dated before they got married this past Saturday evening. Eleven years spanning college, a move to New Orleans and another move to San Francisco. Whew! The wedding was gorgeous, and I enjoyed spending time with my fellow INDS/ARCH grads. My best friend was a bridesmaid and was flying in from San Antonio, so I carted her around for five days, joined by three more college friends for the weekend. The festivities were not without mishaps. Here are a few:

The Bride and the Priest got the times confused for the Rehearsal and stood each other up.
We held the Rehearsal Dinner before the Rehearsal.
Rehearsal Dinner last 3.5 hours.
Almost got run off the road by crazy New Orleans drivers.
Checked into our hotel and found two men in our hotel room.
Hotel insisted that the room that they gave us was the one we booked...with only 1 King bed.
Email verification proves us right--Thank you iPhone. Now find me 2 Doubles.
My friend is irate that we never got an apology for the mishap.
My friend complains about the cost of everything for the wedding. There is NO filter.
Got a slow leak in my tire. Must put air.
Meet up with more friends at Pat O's Piano Bar. Our group is dubbed "The Pips" by the lounge singer.
One of our group gets smashed.
Off to the hotel to rest up and get ready for rehearsal attempt #2 then party at Old-Skool Bar.
Rehearsal attempt #2 starts 30 minutes late and runs an hour overtime.
Rock-n-Sake!!!
Blast dancing at the Gold Mine. We are the 4 Old Ladies and 1 Gay Man on the dance floor. I love it!
Remember that we were "The Bitches" in college. Do NOT dance with us. We are not here for YOU.
Random Bachelorette Party arrives. I swear they were all underage.
The Old Ladies get pushed into the corner by the Kids.
The Gay stays out late and brings in a Yucky Dog for his roomie at 4am. Glad I wasn't in that room!
Wedding day arrives and I'm recruited to "do Hair" because the bridesmaid refuses to pay.
She showers, we head down to the pool for a little R&R.
The pool is directly adjacent to the courtyard, separated by a row of holly bushes.
There's a wedding reception going on in the courtyard.
Our pool time was DJed by Big Band Music.
Back up to the room to play hairdresser.
I voted for board straight with the straightening iron, half pulled up, rubber band wrapped with hair.
She voted for cascading curls, half pulled up, rubber band wrapped with hair.
Down to the wire to get the hair did.
Our Detour: Wedding Party from the courtyard "Second Line" under our window.
My turn to get ready, squeezed fat ass into Spanx.
Spanx is the Devil.
The upside: I could have bought a smaller dress.
Roommate college buddy (not in the wedding) fretting over her dress/belt.
Thirty minutes before wedding we call the valet for our car.
The slow leak: Nail. Tire Flat.
Peekaboo on the bride. Why are they still at the hotel 30 minutes before ceremony??!!??
Offer to ride to church in the limo with the bridal party.
Cab ride from French Quarter to Metairie and back: Way too much.
No good...need my vehicle to return bridal party to hotel.
Tip for the valet to put on the spare: Worth it.
Travel from hotel to church on the interstate with a bicycle tire: Scary.
Arrive at the church 20 minutes late.
Wedding is running 25 minutes late. My luck!!
The Hair: Totally fell. Should have done board straight. Yes, I told you so.
Got lost in a pitch black City Park looking for the reception hall.
Bride's parents go MIA just in time for the Father/Daughter dance.
Bride's parents show up--delay? Need for Slippers.
Reception: a BLAST!
Drive members of bridal party back to hotel.
Continue cheesy reception music with my cheesy cd collection.
Return to hotel: hide from everyone else 'cause I'm NOT going to Bourbon Street again.
Wake up to serenade by random guy on the sidewalk just under our window.
Go to PepBoys to get tire patched.
Guy tries to take advantage of three women: at 23K miles, I need 4 new tires. WTF.
No thanks, sir.
Another mini-INDS reunion over brunch while my car gets fixed.
Pick up the car and head down to Magazine Street.
Friend's hubby and baby driving up to meet us.
Walk 7 blocks before we realize how far we are from our intended destination.
No bother, time to drop off at the airport.
Our group parts ways: lil' family stays to enjoy Magazine, the Amandas head to the airport.
I miss my BFF!!

And that is how we do New Orleans.

Busy little bee

House renovations are almost complete! Well, let me rephrase...house redecorating is almost complete! I didn't move any walls or tear out any floors, but I did do a whole lot of painting, building furniture, making artwork, and soon to be refinishing furniture! What lit this fire under my ass? I scheduled a party. Apparently, it works to get your butt in gear to get the house set up properly. I still have an office in my dining room, and that won't change for a few more weeks, but then end of my term as landlord is quickly approaching!! A week after my sister moves out I anticipate the home transformation to be compete. That is, I'm giving myself a week after she moves out to repaint her room, move my office in there from it's current home in the dining room, and reset my dining room for it's proper function. I CAN'T WAIT!! Photos soon.

Grande Skinny Caramel Mo..er, Latte, No Whip

Or...Grande Guilt-Free Caramel Swirl Mocha, No Whip.

It seems that the more words that can be used to describe your preferred Starbucks or CCs beverage equates to some sort of ranking on the totem pole of recreational coffee drinking. The more you say, the more important you must be. Or, the more addicted.

Let's translate that into computer-ese and see how overwhelming it becomes: HP, Asus, NVidea Graphics ???, Integrated Graphics, 64-bit, all of these words fly so far over my head that shorty here can't even jump high enough to catch. Nor do I want to, really. Bring a trusted computer-ese-literate friend and budget and please, just tell me what to buy.

My beloved HP Pavilion (that was almost 2.5 years old) suddenly stopped working last Friday afternoon. Small things had started acting up over the course of the last couple of weeks, but I just overlooked it as normal computer glitches, since they corrected itself by a simple reset of the internet, or restart of the computer. No so much the case on Friday. Rather than spend $85 to have the computer shipped off to tell me what I already knew, we spent nearly 2 hours at Best Buy, hemming and hawing over all the possibilities of a new computer.

Fast forward four days. I've got a new computer, albeit the second new computer in five days, yet I still have no access to all my old files, nor have any programs that I require successfully installed on this new computer with Vista 64. Yes, all of the programs are 64-bit compatible. But error messages abound. The first computer was returned two days after purchasing because of the errors. Five days later, with a different brand computer, the same problems. Thank goodness the weekend is coming soon. Maybe third time's the charm?

Cleaning the Pantry

Lent began today, and like many of my fellow Catholics, I went to church and got my ashes. As the Lenten season begins, I ponder my penance...I am going to follow through Lent with the aid of my "Little Black Book," a daily meditation. This is something new for me, but I'm looking forward to it, especially to see if I can truly read it each day, and not have to play catch up. My usual penance of "giving up" something still applies as well:

No Macaronni and Cheese
No Soft Drinks
No Chocolate
No Fast Food
No Alcohol

Really and truly, most of these should be eliminated from every day life, regardless of the season, but like the sinner, I falter. One year, I broke two of my penances on the same day, so I just went whole hog and ate/did everything on my list. This year, I am going to box up everything forbodden and store it away until Easter. Typically I would not go to such lengths, but after my failed "Candy Marathon" at Christmastime, my pantry is overloaded with chocolate squares, marshmallows, graham crackers, cookies, and the like. I figure if I can't eat it, then it's not going to take up space where there could be food that I CAN eat. :)

Finding a Footing

Book Club Mondays (on Tuesday)
Till We Have Faces Pages 1-36
Location: Step Mill at Red's.
Time: 30 Minutes

The last time I read a book for an assignment, I was in high school. And I always procrastinated until the end, forcing myself to read hundreds of pages over a mere weekend. Not much has changed in 10 years, I find. I have ample time on my hands these days, but could not muster the energy to pick up the book "Till We Have Faces" by C.S. Lewis. A very similar sentiment that I'm experiencing with the gym. Today I decided to put an end to both. So for 30 minutes I climbed the Step Mill set on intervals, which is definately the best machine ever made, for it's sole purpose is ass-kicking. I managed to read 36 pages, and those 30 minutes breezed by. I may be on to something here!

One thing that I remember well from assigned reading in high school was that I always had a knack for skipping over all the major plot points and only pulling from the book the "theme" or "characterization" or any of those other literary terms that English teachers go gaga over. What they, and I, could never understand was how was it that I could be spot on with all of these seeminly difficult concepts, but I could never remember who did what to whom and when!

That being said, I don't remember a whole lot about the plot specific points in the first 36 pages. I am a huge fan of historical fiction, and this novel does read in a very similar manner to many of Phillipa Gregory's works. I find myself transported to some time long ago, reading a story seemingly based on the story of the ugly duckling, at least in it's early pages. Probably not the case, but I my overactive imagination has a habit of replacing the main character with myself, acting out all of the scenes in my own head. Maybe that's why I'm grossly dissappointed when I've read the book before seeing the movie!

Don't Eat the Macaroni

I lost my job. A week ago. Damn Economy. The company that I worked for had decided to suspend development of the architectural territory indefinitely. And between us, I don't think that they are doing too well residentially, from what I've been told. Whatever the case, I now have no job, and aside from the debt that I had going into this job, I now have to cover an additional $800 a month for car, gas, and insurance. Eek! And on top of all that, my refinance of the house is completely out of the question, since I now have no income. I'm afraid to revisit my budget and determine, at minimum, how much I need to cover bills each month. Because I know what that number is, and it's not pretty.

This is the second time in less than two years that I'm facing unemployment. Neither were my fault. Last time, though, building was at a high and I was able to sustain on private client business. This time, not so good. And I just do not have the energy to do it all again. I want to crawl into a hole and not come out until all this is over with. But I know that can't happen. I must face this head on. But I really have no idea, no clue, what's available.

When I told one of my closest friends what happened, she sent me the sweetest little note, with the funniest and truest of sentiments. Don't eat the macaroni. Last time I lost my job and settled into this funk, I ate Kraft Macaroni and Cheese nearly every day for four months. It was my comfort food. It was my vice. And it was cheap. But, it resulted in over 20 pounds attaching itself to every part of my body. Which lead to even more of a funk. Now, I'm faced with the same scenario and she tells me, "Don't eat the macaroni." Too late. In the last week I've gone through three boxes. And no gym time. No tennis time. Just wallow in self-pity time. Each day I say that I'm going to the gym, but it doesn't happen.

So, today, I'm going to the gym. And if not, it's Whole-Grain, so doesn't that count for something?

Why didn't I think of this before?

So I was driving to New Orleans a couple days ago for a meeting and I started thinking about my most dreaded day of the year. Valentine's Day. Now I know that I have already ranted on this topic, but for some reason I just can't shake it. It's widely known that, save for the unemployment and all that crumbles around me, my heart is happy these days. Maybe for the first time in a very long time I experience Valentine's Day in such rare form. With a happy heart I mean, not unemployed. Yes, I have mentioned that we have plans, and he has told me that there are a couple surprises built in, at which point I sat on his stomach until he got the hint that I don't do surprises very well, not on February 14th. :)

My first REAL Valentine's Day (aside from the candy and cards in elementary school) was in 1998, and with him I shared the next 4. His gift to me was a dozen white carnations and a balloon. And I was heartbroken. Don't really know why, don't really even know what I expected. Not even 10 years later. But whatever hype about the sentimentality and romanticism portrayed on this one day was not met, in my eyes. So why do I hate Valentine's Day? Because I've never had a good one. The hype is irrational, it's expected, so I avoid it. It's easier just to bitch.

I know this isn't some grand revelation, but it makes me feel better, just acknowledging it.

Ranting in a Whisper

If I said that I was looking forward to Valentine's Day, would you believe me? Nah, I didn't think so. I am actually looking forward to the day, strange as it may seem. This year I'm "In Like" again, though he is fully aware of my feelings on the day. I'm sure he's more relieved than anything. He is exempt from being measured against all the other schmucks out there in the quest for "Most Romantic." Although we are totally preying on the simple mindedness of the masses when we made our plans. This year the "Most Romantic Day of the Year" falls on a Saturday, livening the possibilities of the day and nearly ensuring that, even in these tough times, restaurants will be packed to the gills. Because EVERYONE must show the world how much they are in Love. Or Like, as the case may be.

We are going to see the Rodin exhibit at a local museum--thinking that most people will be too preoccupied to go view several large chunks of bronze. I'm sure that even our timid excursions will be wrought with traffic and those on furious chase for roses. That evening we will prepare dinner at home, a menu similar to that of our first "date"-which is as sentimental as I'll get-and then to follow up with that little bit of whimsy, we'll be completely ironic and go to the theater to see "He's Just Not That into You." Hehe. But that's it. No gifts, no cards, and no flowers. The only difference for that day versus any other is that we're going to a museum. Which we have only from Jan 25-April 19 to view the exhibit, so hopefully February 14 will be the least crowded of the days.

Through the Looking Glass

Colossal Failure. In looking back at where I've been the last year, I've taken a few minutes to read through the blogs that I've posted. And unfortunately, it's a whole lot of smoke and mirrors. I did not lose 20 pounds, I did not eliminate 40% of credit card debt, and I did not find sublime happiness. I didn't get a dog. I even kissed my best friend. And we see where that's left me. Whew. Now that's all out in the open, what am I going to do about it? Can I just say that I'm a work in progress? Can I just say that maybe I'm just living in the past? Can I accept that this may be the new definition of me? ABSOLUTELY NOT.

It's back to the drawing board. Time to come up with a new plan. A realistic plan. Although I have no idea what that may be.

You can never go home again.

In nine months or so, I'll face those who were so instrumental towards my opinions of myself. It's the one hundred eighty-some-odd people with whom I shared a graduation stage. It's been nearly ten years since I've seen most of them, yet I think about them daily. Our upbringing determines my daily actions. I become a successful interior designer and lead a jet-set life because they married young, bore several children, and never left home. I am determined to shed the extra twenty pounds because they didn't. For as mousy and unnoticed as I was then, I'm determined not to be now.

I know it's horrible and I know it's vain, but it's something that I've been thinking of since May 21, 1999. What I'm starting to wonder, is what happens the day after? How will I feel then?