Brought to You by The A**holes on My Drive Home

This is a quick rant on what has frustrated me on my drive home in the afternoons:
1. People smoking with kids in their cars
2. People smoking with kids in their cars, driving, while on their cell phone
3. Mothers pushing their kids in strollers, along a busy street while talking on their cell phones and not paying attention to traffic, swerving all over because they can't push straight while holding the phone to their ear.
4. When waiting at a stop sign to turn left, people driving on the road I wish to turn onto drive too fast for me to pull out in front of, then suddenly slow down when they see me waiting to turn. PICK A DAMN SPEED!!
5. Drivers driving below the speed limit, cutting people off, cutting bikes off...the list goes on.

I spend way too much energy screaming at people when they can't even hear me. They can probably see me though-a crazy looking, frizzy haired woman throwing her hands up and moving her mouth, turning red in anger. It's fun though!

I tried to find an image that would represent me while I'm driving, but this one really spoke to me. Anyone else feel like this sometimes?

Love Letter to My Ladies

I don’t know how it is for men, but for women, in general, it’s very important to have another female whom you trust and care about who is on the same page as you. There have been a few things that have happened where I needed my girlfriends to understand and be on my side. Even when they can’t fully relate to the situation, they are supportive and it makes the biggest difference.

I think that no matter how loving your relationship is with your boyfriend or husband, you still need your girls. Women understand the jealousy, the insecurity, the desires that we all have. I’m so grateful for my girls who make me feel like a normal human being, who love me no matter what crazy bent I may be on for the week or wild bitchy mood I may be in-they accept me for me, and give me what I need to get through whatever difficulty is happening in my life.

Women are challenging creatures. By no means do I believe that we are all honest, up front, our love/friendship is not always unconditional. But when you do make that connection to another woman who is as open as you, as real you, it’s fulfilling. It’s also lonely when you don’t have those women around you all the time. My women are in California, D.C., Maryland and Vienna. We don’t talk everyday, or even every week, but when we do talk, text or email, it’s as satisfying as being together in person. I know they mean it when they say they understand, I believe when they tell me the truth and that they love me.

Thank you ladies for your friendship. I hope you feel that you receive the same from me. 

Grace, Being Grateful, Acceptance

We got some news recently that was utterly heartbreaking. It’s taken us a few days to recover, and it required a lot of alcohol, crying and holding one another. These are the times when I question everything-and try very hard to hold God accountable and decide I won’t believe anymore. This never works because while I have no particular religion or faith, I do believe. I want to believe, but there are times when the constant shit-storm is too much for me and I doubt that anything/one is looking out for my husband and I.

When people around you appear to have very easy lives, or have little conflict or real distress (not imagined or self-created as many people do), and they receive something wonderful that you have been working for, or wishing for, it can be difficult to feel happy for them. The first response is “why not me?” It is especially challenging when they are not grateful. There is a difference between downplaying something positive to be modest or kind when you are sharing your good news with another, and simply being ungrateful. A lack of appreciation for the blessing they’ve been given is an insult to those who have desired the same thing. These are always the people who get what you want first, regardless of how hard or long you have been working for it. The universe or God or whatever you believe in is not fair, and in my life I have learned that there is no reason why some people have an easier time than others. I feel it is completely egotistical and self-centered to claim that some force or being looked into your little life and declared when something could happen. 

Envy is not pretty. I know that not everyone feels it and I admire people who are above it. It is definitely one of the worst parts of me. That being said, no matter how deep into my own self-pity I may dive, I never want the good things at the expense of another, or instead of the other person. There are certain parts of life that I just wish could belong to me first. To experience blessings without the unsolicited advice from everyone else who has achieved or received it before you. To have those experiences belong to you completely without others believing they had some part in it, or think they know better than you and constantly tell how you should handle this, go about this, etc. Frankly, there are some things that you want to be the first to share with family because once it happens, the experiences that follow are never as meaningful as the first.

One of the most painful aspects to the recent news we received is that we know they will be treated differently, better, placed on a pedestal, and in the face of our own challenges it makes it that much harder to embrace their exciting news. It has also prevented us from interacting with the family, as embarrassing as that is to admit. We just aren't ready to deal with it. 

Regardless, we have to find the grace to accept the reality and manage to silence the envy within us in order to be truly happy for the others and to free ourselves from resentment and anger. Their good luck has nothing to do with us and we have to move beyond ourselves and try to be grateful for what we have. 

Guys in Skinny Jeans

Okay, really, why are some guys wearing skinny jeans? If you want to dress like a lady, then wear a dress, not leggings. It's not manly, it's not strong, it doesn't make you  look like someone who is trustworthy or able to protect a women. I'm biased though because I like manly-men. A big, strong, solid man (like my sexy husband) is a major turn on. Skinny, wimpy, artistic types who don't wash their hair, who claim to be sensitive and loyal even though they'd sleep with any woman who paid attention to them if they weren't so self-loathing and unable to get an erection. This is the type that is prevalent in Portland.

  

There are of course men who just like to be fashionable and don't have these problems, but still, why? Why are you wearing these horrendous pants? It doesn't look good. And if you already have skinny legs, why would you highlight them with skinny jeans? It makes it look as though your feet exploded out of the bottom of the pants.

While searching for photos for this post, I found that there are ALOT of people who have commented on their blogs about this fashion trend. Makes me feel better for hating it. It's always nice to know you're not alone.

The Miller Lite ad below is about the skinny jean epidemic, and it's pretty funny. Some guys are just clueless. Fashion is for those who are built like pre-teen boys and those who are rich or bold enough to do what they want without caring what other people think. It's not for the rest of us, and I beg you, please spare us from this disgusting trend.

Nice 'stache

Tom Selleck. That's who came to mind when I saw the photos...of my upper lip...at the dentist.

Through my new job my husband and I were able to purchase decent dental insurance so we recently went to the dentist. It's been a long time since I've been and was very surprised by the technology they use now. The x-rays were done with an apparatus that was hooked directly into their computer, and they took actual photographs of my smile, teeth and the inside of my mouth with this tiny wand. I was impressed with the technology and the efficiency of it all. Until they put the photos of my mouth up on the computer screen in front of me. The photo they took of the outside of my mouth and smile included my upper lip, and it was horrifying!  I could not believe how gross it looked!

Admittedly, I do have hair on my upper lip and I do wax regularly. It's not very noticeable, except at certain angles, and that is the angle they took the photo of my smile.  Mortified is a good way to describe the feeling of seeing your own mustache enlarged on a computer screen for an entire office of dental professionals to look at. Gratefully, no one mentioned the forest on my lip and focused on my teeth and gums.

They should warn women about the photos so we can go to the salon and have our "Selleck" removed.

Amos Lee - Keep it Loose, Keep it Tight (Live @ Abbey Road)

I can't stop listening to Amos Lee, and this song in particular is lovely. His voice is beautiful. Enjoy!

Another Kind of Pink Slip

When the doctor said that she felt the lumps, and stated that I may have to have a mammogram, I thought, that’s weird, that’s something my mom gets. If I had one, I’d be the youngest woman in the waiting room (vanity, anyone?). So I spent the next few weeks vacillating between visions of chemotherapy, worrying how Husband would handle a cancer diagnosis, and laughing about the absurdity of it all.

After seeing the breast surgeon, who confirmed the lumps, she referred me for an ultrasound. My husband came with me to the ultrasound-something I had imagined we would be doing for the first view of our baby. A romantic, exciting, scary experience we would remember for the rest of our lives. He sat in a plastic chair behind me, watching the images of my breast on a flat (how appropriate) screen television. It was hugely disappointing to have this ultrasound experience be of my breast, and not of our future baby.

The technician remarked on my lumpy breasts(because that’s what every woman wants to hear), noting that she could feel the bumps beneath the grocery store scanner apparatus she pressed against my skin. Despite the lumps, she saw nothing particularly alarming and left us to go chat with the radiologist. Husband was uneasy during the ten minutes we waited for the results, I tried to joke about the hospital gown being sexy, and posed like a calendar girl on the stretcher.  Finally the radiologist came in the room- a tall, kind looking man, holding a pink piece of paper. He introduced himself, shook my hand and spoke directly to both Husband and I. “I’m happy to have good news, there is no sign of cancer.” Husband actually exhaled-as if he had been holding his breath. Then the doctor handed me the pink paper and said “mammograms begin at 40.” I laughed, thinking that’s a long way off, why is he mentioning this to me? Only older women have mammograms. Pshaw.

On the drive home I stared at that pink piece of paper, especially the line about mammograms starting a 40 and it hit me. That’s only a few years away. WTF? How am I old enough to even be thinking of having mammograms?! I’m still young, I’m still getting settled, I haven’t even had children yet. How can I be close to 40 when I still feel like I’m in my late 20s? How is it that all the images I had of myself at this age are not reality?

I know that life doesn’t always happen the way you want it to, and I understand everyone’s different beliefs about faith, destiny, God’s plan, etc., but when you feel like you haven’t figured out exactly what you want to be doing or where your life should be going, it’s difficult to believe there is a force with a plan for you. I constantly question what I’m here for, what am I supposed to be doing, what is my purpose? On the other hand, when you have those moments of clarity and peace (like when I met Husband) it’s easy to believe there is a plan for you, a space for you in this world.  My mother and father-in-law have a very strong belief/faith about their lives. I admire their optimism and ability to believe in something larger than themselves. After all this time together I keep hoping it will rub off on me. Well that, and my mother-in-law's cooking skills.

Rather than being fired, that pink piece of paper was like a pink slip of womanhood, telling me I was failing and it’s too late to change it.

On the other hand, it also told me that I didn’t have cancer, and as Martha Stewart says, “it’s a good thing.”