Wow. What a season. It was busy and full of the usual holiday festivities. There was a definite "Merry Bah Humbug" in the air. In one sense the holiday season drives us crazy. For instance those piped in Christmas carols in every store. I love holiday music, but you hear "Jingle Bells" screeching over the speakers at Macy's one too many times and you begin to cringe at the sound of all carols, sung anywhere...even in church, where they most certainly belong.
I love Christmas cookies, especially sugar cookies. They are the quintessential holiday treat. I practically live for them. I didn't bake any myself (way too much work in my tiny kitchenette) but I figured co-workers and clients would be bestowing cookies and treats on our office all month long. Wrong. Not one cookie entered the halls of AKJ Law. Not that my waistline needed such extravagance, but sheesh, it's Christmas. I wanted a damn cookie! Shaped like a tree maybe or a star...with those little green and red sprinkles on it. To make matters worse, my ex-mother-in-law was the queen of Christmas cookies and treats. I was lamenting to a friend about how I'd wished I 'd at least gotten a few recipes off that woman before my divorce. A few days later, I receive an email from this same friend bragging about the plate of "Marge's cookies" she just plowed through. She and my ex-husband are still friends. Sigh.
And don't even get me started on the crowds and all the mad spending. I'm running shopping errands during my lunch break so, of course, I'm in a hurry. Invariably, I'm stuck behind the lallygaggers who are strolling through the stores getting in my way. On one hand I'm annoyed by their lackadaisical pace, on the other I'm quite envious. Why aren't I slowly meandering through the shops holding hands with my sweetie savoring the Christmas moment?
Then there is the big question of the year, what to buy for whom? It's like everyone is traipsing through the stores seeking the best way to throw their money away. "Would you like a gift receipt with that?" the sales woman asks. "Hell yeah, cause I'm pretty sure Mary Sue is going to want to return this piece of crap anyway." Why do we spend so much time searching to spend? I do the same. I refuse to cave to the gift card idea and insist on giving an actual gift- something the receiver can "open". Except I am so bad at it. I ponder far too long and then all the good stuff in the right sizes and best colors are gone. And the scales of equality are all off kilter. Someone you normally exchange small tokens with suddenly presents you with an extravagant gift. There is just no way to feel good about that exchange.
Yeah, the Christmas season is full of traditions that can make any person at least a little crazy. But then there are the wonderful bits. Like the lights and decorations downtown that are so elegant and cheery, you can't help but feel the spirit. The Ginger Bread House display at the Sheraton and The Figgy Pudding Caroling Contest that is full of talent and surprises. The Christmas shows, plays, musical entertainment throughout the month of December at a variety of prices (including free) so everyone can find something to celebrate the season. This year I attended the Cirque de la Symphony at Benaroya Hall (highly recommended for the spendier lot) and the Improv Christmas Carol at the Pike Place Market Theater (a very affordable, entertaining must see).
My number one favorite Christmas thing, however, is my little 3-4' table top Christmas tree. Decorated in ornaments from various places I've visited and full of memories, it's my 'feel good' moment when I plug in those lights as soon as I get home. Because of its size, the entire process of getting the tree, putting it up, dragging out the Xmas box, decorating and cleaning up all took approximately 2 hours of my precious time. Small commitment for such great pleasure.
Getting through Christmas is only half the battle, as New Year's Eve follows on its heels in full force. Everyone wants to know what you're doing for New Year's. New Year's is one of those holidays that is reminiscent to those high school Tolos. The dances where the girls have to ask the boys to go with them. I always played along, but in hindsight I realize I hated those dances. The pressure of who to ask (I never had a steady boyfriend to go to those stupid things with), shopping for the perfect outfit, planning the evening events, getting the picture taken at the dance, and the inevitable -- never going out with the boy again.
New Year's Eve seems to have the same flavor. All week long people are asking me what my plans are. Usually, I make a plan, go to a party, go out of town, whatever it is, it seems to be a bit of a let down in the end. The ever ending traipsing around in search of a bad party. That damn clock ticks over to 12.00 midnight everyone around me is kissing someone. In the end, I go home alone and wake up to ponder another year...usually hung over from all the booze the night before.
This year, although there were plenty of opportunities to go out, dress up, and bring in the new year with others, I just wasn't in the mood. So I vowed to stay home and watch the Space Needle fireworks from my livingroom window. With a bird's eye view of the Needle, I am going to settle in, with a glass of bubbly, my tree lights on, reflect on my weird little life and watch the show. My first New Year's Eve alone. I love trying new things.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
TMI - How Much Is Too Much?
My friend and I are signed up to participate in a Speed Dating event this week. As some of you may be aware, I am familiar with the speed dating arena. Although I’m no expert, I'm somewhat seasoned in the art of the six minute date.
My friend, however, is a Speed Dating novice. She’s been divorced for just over a year ( one year, four months and four days….give or take). Actually, I may be dragging her to this event against her better judgment. However, she'd been in a relationship with her ex-husband for 20-some odd years. It’s weird out in the dating world these days and practice makes...err...perfect?
In a recent discussion with another friend who is going through a divorce and starting to date again, the topic of how much personal info to divulge on the first date arose. Just how much of your baggage do you share and how early in the game do you share it? It’s a sticky situation. There's not an easy answer. We strive to be honest and upfront, without being overly honest or upfront where it isn’t really warranted.
For example, one woman, I’ll call Fran…just because I’m pretty sure no one who reads this blog knows anyone named Fran, and I am trying to keep Fran’s situation anonymous. Fran was involved with a woman a while back. It was a semi-serious relationship, not one of those "college experiments". Fran and her partner were a “couple.” The relationship ended and they each went their separate ways eventually. Fran soon began dating men again. On a recent first time man-date, she was struggling as to whether she should reveal her “lesbian lover episode” to her new potential love interest.
Should she place ALL her baggage out on the table right from the get-go? Or should she just present a smaller version, say more of a carry-on size bag, to this new chap? If she puts it all out there, she risks the chance of scaring him off too early…unnecessarily. Maybe a carry-on is even too much info at this early stage. Maybe just a sleek stylish tote would be more appropriate, i.e. “ I’ve been with a woman.” That seems less daunting maybe. This would either intrigue the fella…or scare him off, if he’s a true conservative. If the latter, Fran probably isn't that interested…given her past and all. Obviously, she is more open minded, and would probably appreciate a man who was a tad more open minded as well.
Last night I was out with a group of women friends and one woman was entertaining us with a new internet dating story (women thrive on this stuff!). Apparently, the dude was yammering on (and on) about everything and asking NO questions of my friend, who was politely trying to listen but in reality making a Christmas shopping list and get-a-way plan during this guy's monologue. The final straw was the point when he told her he was fired for sexual harassment when he was on the police force, but it settled before having to go to trial. Whoa! Did he really just say all that? On a first date? In a coffee shop? I think it was at this point my friend perked up, shook off her daydreaming and knew it was time to call it a night. That is just too much information, a full-sized heavy load of luggage revealed way too early.
When meeting someone for the first time, it’s best to keep it minimal. Give just enough info to keep it interesting, but not so much your date misinterprets the true you- the you you are trying to portray.
During the speed dating event, we have 6 minutes to determine if there is a connection or not. Six minutes to tell our story and gather a bit of our dates’ stories. Six minutes to decide if this is someone we’d like to hear more about and get to know further. And six minutes to reveal our positive attributes and attract the interest of those we are interested in.
With regard to exposing any baggage within this six minute period, a small, coin purse…one with some pretty little beadwork or bling…set out on the table discreetly, would be more than enough for a first meeting to keep it interesting and lively without revealing the entire set of Samsonite.
My friend, however, is a Speed Dating novice. She’s been divorced for just over a year ( one year, four months and four days….give or take). Actually, I may be dragging her to this event against her better judgment. However, she'd been in a relationship with her ex-husband for 20-some odd years. It’s weird out in the dating world these days and practice makes...err...perfect?
In a recent discussion with another friend who is going through a divorce and starting to date again, the topic of how much personal info to divulge on the first date arose. Just how much of your baggage do you share and how early in the game do you share it? It’s a sticky situation. There's not an easy answer. We strive to be honest and upfront, without being overly honest or upfront where it isn’t really warranted.
For example, one woman, I’ll call Fran…just because I’m pretty sure no one who reads this blog knows anyone named Fran, and I am trying to keep Fran’s situation anonymous. Fran was involved with a woman a while back. It was a semi-serious relationship, not one of those "college experiments". Fran and her partner were a “couple.” The relationship ended and they each went their separate ways eventually. Fran soon began dating men again. On a recent first time man-date, she was struggling as to whether she should reveal her “lesbian lover episode” to her new potential love interest.
Should she place ALL her baggage out on the table right from the get-go? Or should she just present a smaller version, say more of a carry-on size bag, to this new chap? If she puts it all out there, she risks the chance of scaring him off too early…unnecessarily. Maybe a carry-on is even too much info at this early stage. Maybe just a sleek stylish tote would be more appropriate, i.e. “ I’ve been with a woman.” That seems less daunting maybe. This would either intrigue the fella…or scare him off, if he’s a true conservative. If the latter, Fran probably isn't that interested…given her past and all. Obviously, she is more open minded, and would probably appreciate a man who was a tad more open minded as well.
Last night I was out with a group of women friends and one woman was entertaining us with a new internet dating story (women thrive on this stuff!). Apparently, the dude was yammering on (and on) about everything and asking NO questions of my friend, who was politely trying to listen but in reality making a Christmas shopping list and get-a-way plan during this guy's monologue. The final straw was the point when he told her he was fired for sexual harassment when he was on the police force, but it settled before having to go to trial. Whoa! Did he really just say all that? On a first date? In a coffee shop? I think it was at this point my friend perked up, shook off her daydreaming and knew it was time to call it a night. That is just too much information, a full-sized heavy load of luggage revealed way too early.
When meeting someone for the first time, it’s best to keep it minimal. Give just enough info to keep it interesting, but not so much your date misinterprets the true you- the you you are trying to portray.
During the speed dating event, we have 6 minutes to determine if there is a connection or not. Six minutes to tell our story and gather a bit of our dates’ stories. Six minutes to decide if this is someone we’d like to hear more about and get to know further. And six minutes to reveal our positive attributes and attract the interest of those we are interested in.
With regard to exposing any baggage within this six minute period, a small, coin purse…one with some pretty little beadwork or bling…set out on the table discreetly, would be more than enough for a first meeting to keep it interesting and lively without revealing the entire set of Samsonite.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
A Discussion With The Dude Upstairs
So I made it through my least favorite month; that grey, wet, windy month of November. A friend pointed out to me that there was, in fact, only one sunny day in November and that day was the Friday after Thanksgiving. I didn't google the weather for the month, but she is probably correct. The month itself actually wasn’t so bad. I was super busy pet sitting, studying, reading, bookclub-ing, yoga-ing, and hanging with friends. Went to a couple of free shows and cheap concerts and basically just enjoyed myself. Almost forgot it was crappy old November there for awhile.
I’ve also, like the majority of the population these days, been job hunting. Not that I've ever stopped the job hunt completely, but I've turned up the volume once again. My current temp job finishes at the end of the year. The law offices of “Bickerstein, Gossipski, and Grumpfeld” are closing their doors for good. Although I’ve actually enjoyed working there for the most part, it is time to move onward, once again, in search of that ‘real live’ employment opportunity (one that comes with health benefits preferably). I’ve had some good leads recently, however, that’s all they’ve amounted to so far. Leads. Nothing has come to fruition as of yet. But I keep looking and keep praying. It goes about like this:
Me: Dear God, please send a perfect-for-me job my way.
God: Sure thing, WW, what is it you want specifically?
Me: Gee God, I don't know exactly, but it should be lucrative and flexible...I'm not really a morning person...
God: Uh Huh, what else?
Me: Ummm...oh I don't know...it should be fun, suit my skills, rewarding.
God: Okay, details?
Me: Oh, I don't know. You must have some thoughts. You know me better than me. Just do whatever you think is best. I'll stand by. Thanks, God!
God: Oiy vey.
In the meantime, while I wait for God to reach into his bag of tricks on my behalf (and somehow I’m pretty sure I’m not first on his agenda), I’m just going to continue what I started in November and enjoy December!
I’ve also, like the majority of the population these days, been job hunting. Not that I've ever stopped the job hunt completely, but I've turned up the volume once again. My current temp job finishes at the end of the year. The law offices of “Bickerstein, Gossipski, and Grumpfeld” are closing their doors for good. Although I’ve actually enjoyed working there for the most part, it is time to move onward, once again, in search of that ‘real live’ employment opportunity (one that comes with health benefits preferably). I’ve had some good leads recently, however, that’s all they’ve amounted to so far. Leads. Nothing has come to fruition as of yet. But I keep looking and keep praying. It goes about like this:
Me: Dear God, please send a perfect-for-me job my way.
God: Sure thing, WW, what is it you want specifically?
Me: Gee God, I don't know exactly, but it should be lucrative and flexible...I'm not really a morning person...
God: Uh Huh, what else?
Me: Ummm...oh I don't know...it should be fun, suit my skills, rewarding.
God: Okay, details?
Me: Oh, I don't know. You must have some thoughts. You know me better than me. Just do whatever you think is best. I'll stand by. Thanks, God!
God: Oiy vey.
In the meantime, while I wait for God to reach into his bag of tricks on my behalf (and somehow I’m pretty sure I’m not first on his agenda), I’m just going to continue what I started in November and enjoy December!
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
The Walk of Shame
We're all familiar with the phrase "the walk of shame," some more than others. You know that walk. The one that happens the morning after a night of whoopee that you weren't quite expecting to be an entire night of whoopee. So then you end up skulking out of Mr. Man's place at 7 a.m. in your yesterday clothes, your bra in your purse and no makeup except maybe some well deserved chapstick, hoping you don't bump into any of his neighbors on the way out to your car--wherever that is at this point. You're not even sure. Did you drive to his place, or did you leave yours on the street near the bar all night? You might still be a little foggy about how all this went down last night. Worst than running into his neighbors is the possibility of running into yours as you pull into your driveway and greet them on their way out to work. Not that they are your parents or anything, but even so, it's just plain embarrassing.
What might be more embarrassing is if you don't have time to go home before work and you show up at the office in, yessiree Bob, yesterday's outfit! This little scenario happened to one of the women in my office...more than once. It's a small office. Unless one of us is hiding at her desk all day, we're going to see each other and probably notice what we are wearing, because we are women, after all.
Let me just clarify, this woman is not a complete tramp, a trollop or tart. She is actually dating someone. She just happens to be really bad at planning ahead. The first time this sort of incident occurred she showed up in the exact same outfit, of course. What was she to do? The second time it happened (today) she stands in front of me saying "does it look like I wore this outfit yesterday?" Now I recalled her wearing a flowy flowery skirt, but that's really all I remembered about her outfit yesterday. I chuckled knowing what she meant and suggested she start buying clothes she could turn inside out. At that point, she turned the hem of her skirt up to show me the side she was wearing yesterday. She had actually worn a skirt she could turn inside out! One of our colleagues suggested she could hoist the waistband of the skirt up over her boobs and wear it like a strapless dress tomorrow should she find herself in the same predicament for a third time.
Another woman advised her to start buying travel clothing that can be tightly rolled up to fit snugly into an evening purse or handbag. No ironing necessary! Or maybe it'd be to her benefit if she worked with women her same size so they could swap clothes once at the office.
I suggested she tell her fella she needs a drawer.
At one point there was a comment about what would happen if I got lucky tonight and had to slink into the office wearing the same outfit. There was a very slight pause before we all agreed I'd be strutting through the office pointing out that I was, in fact, wearing the same outfit as the day before. It's been a looooong time since these shoes have treaded down the path of shame.
And I'm kind of glad my friend at the office has no shame, as her behavior provides so much entertainment for the rest of us walking the straight and narrow.
What might be more embarrassing is if you don't have time to go home before work and you show up at the office in, yessiree Bob, yesterday's outfit! This little scenario happened to one of the women in my office...more than once. It's a small office. Unless one of us is hiding at her desk all day, we're going to see each other and probably notice what we are wearing, because we are women, after all.
Let me just clarify, this woman is not a complete tramp, a trollop or tart. She is actually dating someone. She just happens to be really bad at planning ahead. The first time this sort of incident occurred she showed up in the exact same outfit, of course. What was she to do? The second time it happened (today) she stands in front of me saying "does it look like I wore this outfit yesterday?" Now I recalled her wearing a flowy flowery skirt, but that's really all I remembered about her outfit yesterday. I chuckled knowing what she meant and suggested she start buying clothes she could turn inside out. At that point, she turned the hem of her skirt up to show me the side she was wearing yesterday. She had actually worn a skirt she could turn inside out! One of our colleagues suggested she could hoist the waistband of the skirt up over her boobs and wear it like a strapless dress tomorrow should she find herself in the same predicament for a third time.
Another woman advised her to start buying travel clothing that can be tightly rolled up to fit snugly into an evening purse or handbag. No ironing necessary! Or maybe it'd be to her benefit if she worked with women her same size so they could swap clothes once at the office.
I suggested she tell her fella she needs a drawer.
At one point there was a comment about what would happen if I got lucky tonight and had to slink into the office wearing the same outfit. There was a very slight pause before we all agreed I'd be strutting through the office pointing out that I was, in fact, wearing the same outfit as the day before. It's been a looooong time since these shoes have treaded down the path of shame.
And I'm kind of glad my friend at the office has no shame, as her behavior provides so much entertainment for the rest of us walking the straight and narrow.
Monday, November 2, 2009
A Happy Soul
November 2nd - All Souls' Day. This is a day set aside for remembrance of the beloveds who no longer share our lives with us here on earth. It sounds a little heavy, especially right after All Saints Day and All Hallow's Eve. Busy weekend actually. My parents' ashes are buried up north and visiting the cemetery wasn't possible for me today. But no matter. I still took a few moments out of my day to think of them, as I do most days actually, along with many others in my life who have passed on, including those special furry friends that treated me so well over the years. All Souls' Day really means "ALL" souls.
While that may sound depressing for some, it really isn't. It's actually a really good day to take a good look at your own soul and remind yourself to nurture it regularly. November is my least favorite month of the twelve. Always has been. I'm not sure if it's the weather, the time change (although that extra hour yesterday was rather nice and sorely needed after our All Hallow's Eve celebration), the darkness, the fact that all I really want to do is sleep, but I'm too busy for more sleep, or the weather...ooops, I said that already, didn't I? In any case, I am taking extra care with my soul this month, because I think it's going to need it.
For me that means more yoga sessions (at the studio not just in my livingroom with the noisy neighbors upstairs distracting my Zen mood), more homecooked meals (my crockpot is fired up), more herbal teas, more laughter, watching more movies and, yes, more sleep.
So take a few moments to honor those who've passed on and then, even more importantly, take a few extra moments to honor your own soul and promise to do what keeps it happy in these coming dark and crazy-making months that are sure to be full of challenges, as well as (sometimes hidden) rewards.
I opened the month with my favorite movie of all time, Breakfast at Tiffany's. I just love Holly Golightly's zest for life and adventure, not to mention her flare for fashion. But I can so relate to her lost soul in search of something that is right there in front of her. When "Fred Darling" tells her off and says it doesn't matter where she goes, she'll always keep running into herself, somehow that little speech really hit home for Wander Woman. Aahh.... the messages in these old films are so poignant.
My soul and I are off to bed with a cup of Chamomile, some pleasant reading and early sleeping.
While that may sound depressing for some, it really isn't. It's actually a really good day to take a good look at your own soul and remind yourself to nurture it regularly. November is my least favorite month of the twelve. Always has been. I'm not sure if it's the weather, the time change (although that extra hour yesterday was rather nice and sorely needed after our All Hallow's Eve celebration), the darkness, the fact that all I really want to do is sleep, but I'm too busy for more sleep, or the weather...ooops, I said that already, didn't I? In any case, I am taking extra care with my soul this month, because I think it's going to need it.
For me that means more yoga sessions (at the studio not just in my livingroom with the noisy neighbors upstairs distracting my Zen mood), more homecooked meals (my crockpot is fired up), more herbal teas, more laughter, watching more movies and, yes, more sleep.
So take a few moments to honor those who've passed on and then, even more importantly, take a few extra moments to honor your own soul and promise to do what keeps it happy in these coming dark and crazy-making months that are sure to be full of challenges, as well as (sometimes hidden) rewards.
I opened the month with my favorite movie of all time, Breakfast at Tiffany's. I just love Holly Golightly's zest for life and adventure, not to mention her flare for fashion. But I can so relate to her lost soul in search of something that is right there in front of her. When "Fred Darling" tells her off and says it doesn't matter where she goes, she'll always keep running into herself, somehow that little speech really hit home for Wander Woman. Aahh.... the messages in these old films are so poignant.
My soul and I are off to bed with a cup of Chamomile, some pleasant reading and early sleeping.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Falling for Fall
I’ve been known to fall for a scam, fall head over heals in love (although it’s been a really long time), fall all over someone I’m trying to impress, taken a fall, and I’ve definitely fallen short on more than one occasion. All that falling aside, I truly love fall. Autumn has always been my favorite season. Maybe it’s because I grew up in the northeast where Autumn meant loads of color, fiery oranges, bright reds and sunny yellows. Maybe it was Upstate New York’s crisp and tasty apples (I’m still biased even after 30 years in Washington State). Or maybe it’s that anticipation of starting something new. I loved shopping for new school clothes (what girl doesn’t?) and even buying new notebooks and writing in them for the first time.
I still get that feeling when September rolls around. While others mourn the end of summer, calling it quits after Labor Day, I relish these still sunny days and Harvest Moon nights. I no longer buy new school clothes, but I do enjoy window shopping and observing the local girls to see what fashion trends are hitting our Seattle streets.
It was about the first week in September when I noticed the word of the day on http://www.refdesk.com/ was impuissance, as in "powerlessness revealed by an inability to act (like a deer in the headlights)." I stared at the screen while this word sunk in and even stung a little. "Wander Woman's life was frozen in a state of impuissance, as she was unable to put any of her hair brain ideas into action."
Suddenly in a frenzy of action-taking command, I registered for several classes this fall, ordered a couple of books on how to do something or other and made yet another deal with myself to accomplish something...or other.
Beginning Salsa was one of the classes I started in early September. I've been wanting to take lessons for some time, but scheduling, cost, and committing always seemed to get in the way. This time, I just made it happen. As it turns out, it's really not very expensive at all. Besides being a fun activity, I was hoping I'd tone up the old nagging core and maybe meet some new people. Not that my old people aren't terrific, they are. So I guess I mean men. Yes, meet some new men to dance with me.
I'm only five lessons in and having a good time. It's a lot more complicated than imagined. Not too surprisingly several of the men are a bit awkward, robotic and have two left feet (sorry, fellas!) but the instructor is very patient and hot...er, I mean talented. Maybe it's his talent that is distracting me and I'm the one with the two left feet. I can't keep my eyes off the instructor when I'm suppose to be dancing with my partner, i.e. looking my partner in the eyes so I can follow his lead.
Contrary to what I had imagined, there are more men in the classes than women. That's a switch. Furthermore, there is no particular type noted. There are all ages, sizes, ethnicities - it's really quite refreshing. Of course there are the older, soft shoe wearing fellas that seem to gravitate toward me. Luckily we rotate partners throughout the lesson so we can learn to dance with different people. Good idea.
One of my partners (I'll call Ted) was counting out loud, which is encouraged at this stage, but it went like this as Ted was building up to a cross-body lead, "one, two three, and five, six, seven....it's coming, it's coming...one, two, three, and five, six, seven, it's coming, it's coming, it's coming...." Oh boy, you can imagine what I'm thinking. We are still just dancing, right? Just as a suppressed smile was beginning to spread across my lips, the hot and talented instructor yelled "Rotate partners!" Whew, thank goodness, who knows what was going to happen back there with Ted. I knew Salsa was a spicy dance, but honestly!
In any event, it's fun and funny and a good workout, or at least it will be once I actually learn to dance. And so far, I haven't fallen on my derriere - yet.
Happy Fall!
I still get that feeling when September rolls around. While others mourn the end of summer, calling it quits after Labor Day, I relish these still sunny days and Harvest Moon nights. I no longer buy new school clothes, but I do enjoy window shopping and observing the local girls to see what fashion trends are hitting our Seattle streets.
It was about the first week in September when I noticed the word of the day on http://www.refdesk.com/ was impuissance, as in "powerlessness revealed by an inability to act (like a deer in the headlights)." I stared at the screen while this word sunk in and even stung a little. "Wander Woman's life was frozen in a state of impuissance, as she was unable to put any of her hair brain ideas into action."
Suddenly in a frenzy of action-taking command, I registered for several classes this fall, ordered a couple of books on how to do something or other and made yet another deal with myself to accomplish something...or other.
Beginning Salsa was one of the classes I started in early September. I've been wanting to take lessons for some time, but scheduling, cost, and committing always seemed to get in the way. This time, I just made it happen. As it turns out, it's really not very expensive at all. Besides being a fun activity, I was hoping I'd tone up the old nagging core and maybe meet some new people. Not that my old people aren't terrific, they are. So I guess I mean men. Yes, meet some new men to dance with me.
I'm only five lessons in and having a good time. It's a lot more complicated than imagined. Not too surprisingly several of the men are a bit awkward, robotic and have two left feet (sorry, fellas!) but the instructor is very patient and hot...er, I mean talented. Maybe it's his talent that is distracting me and I'm the one with the two left feet. I can't keep my eyes off the instructor when I'm suppose to be dancing with my partner, i.e. looking my partner in the eyes so I can follow his lead.
Contrary to what I had imagined, there are more men in the classes than women. That's a switch. Furthermore, there is no particular type noted. There are all ages, sizes, ethnicities - it's really quite refreshing. Of course there are the older, soft shoe wearing fellas that seem to gravitate toward me. Luckily we rotate partners throughout the lesson so we can learn to dance with different people. Good idea.
One of my partners (I'll call Ted) was counting out loud, which is encouraged at this stage, but it went like this as Ted was building up to a cross-body lead, "one, two three, and five, six, seven....it's coming, it's coming...one, two, three, and five, six, seven, it's coming, it's coming, it's coming...." Oh boy, you can imagine what I'm thinking. We are still just dancing, right? Just as a suppressed smile was beginning to spread across my lips, the hot and talented instructor yelled "Rotate partners!" Whew, thank goodness, who knows what was going to happen back there with Ted. I knew Salsa was a spicy dance, but honestly!
In any event, it's fun and funny and a good workout, or at least it will be once I actually learn to dance. And so far, I haven't fallen on my derriere - yet.
Happy Fall!
Friday, September 11, 2009
From the Land Down Under
I do a fair amount of walking all over this city, up hills and stairs and running for buses, I practice yoga a couple times a week, have a light weight routine I do regularly and have been on a few hikes in our scenic and impressive Mt. Baker National Park this summer. I started a salsa class and enjoy golf, or at least getting to the driving range when I can. I try to eat relatively healthfully baring the occasional happy hour. I wouldn't call my lifestyle 'sedentary', although I don't compete in marathons, triathlons or any other such 'ons'. Even so, I've got this tummy issue that seems to be hindering my self-esteem. Furthermore, there are those few outfits that warrant special undergarments to assist in the belly control, while I'm working on whittling it away. I've resisted the purchase of such garments insisting that I will get rid of the unsightly gut. Why pay for special and expensive undergarments when the answer is clearly STOP EATING. So simple,right? Well, after catching a friend snickering at my 'big girl panties' showing through a clingyish dress in an effort to pull in the pooch, I gave up.
A trip to the lingerie department was in order. I'd put it off long enough. I was making headway on the tummy issue, but then started a temporary desk job and seem to have had a backward slide.
I bypassed Macy's and Victoria Secret and went straight for the Taj Mahal of lingerie; Nordstrom. I am not a huge Nordstrom shopper these days. As a matter of fact I avoid going into that store at all cost. However, when it comes to lingerie, they are "the man." I've made several purchases at other stores in an effort to save a dime only to be disappointed in the product. I now don't waste my time and money.
Cute, petite and twenty-something Whitney was helping me today with my tummy bulge, trying to convince me that she has the same problem. Uh huh, sure. She loaded me up with tummy controlling options and dropped me into a dressing room where the horror show began. Here is the lowdown:
The Hanky Panky lace high rise thong at $23 was certainly sexy and comfortable, but did not provide nearly enough tummy support. I'll keep that one in mind for general every day wear. I know some of my friends swear by that brand, but they are a bit steep on the wallet for an every day pantie.
Next, I wrestled into a Spanx Hide and Sleek full slip at $72.00. Although I was wearing a bra and panties, no lines showed through. However, I did feel like a stuffed sausage and not all that comfortable. It was a bit overkill, not to mention warm. However, the heat could have been a result of the effort it took to get into it. Golly, I hope there aren't two way mirrors or video surveillance cameras in those dressing rooms. What a show I would have provided! If worn under a dress, I am not sure I'd feel comfortable dancing, eating, or even sitting down in this garment.
The Yummie Tummie camisole at $62.00 was almost what I was after. The belly support was perfect, however, the garment is meant to be worn over, say, jeans and under a T-shirt with the bottom part sticking out giving a layered effect. Uhhh, not what I'm after. I need something to wear under some clingy dresses.
The Body Wrap boy short was a bargain at $28.00, but it felt like wearing bike shorts. I just can't feel comfortable wearing something that feels like I got off my bike and threw on a dress. I saw a girl the other day on the bus turn to sit down. Her purse caught her skirt and lifted up and voila, there were her 'bike shorts' flashing the other passengers. Okay, better than flashing commando, or a thong, but I just don't care for the bike shorts under my skirts. Again, just too much extra fabric.
Whitney went in the back to drum up a little secret hidden gem. She excitedly presented me with a "Fifty's Vintage Style" pantie with all kinds of panels and technological hoo ha that is functional, yet sexy. Okay, these are reminiscent of something my mother would have worn in her hay day. My mother, mind you, was born in 1923. You get the picture.
Another Yummie Tummie full slip was sleek and comfortable, but didn't really offer much in the way of support at all. Whitney told me she was wearing the same slip at that moment. Whitney is 110 lb soaking wet. I can hardly take her testimony seriously.
The final garment and the one I went home with is a Spanx Haute Couture lace thong. I can't even tell you what I paid for this tiny piece of fabric because it's unfathomable. I think there's a plane ticket to somewhere for less money. However, it was amazing. It hit in all the right places. It tucked in all the right places. It was still sexy. I didn't feel like I was wearing a girdle by another name (body shaper, body wrap, boy shorts, yummie tummie, spanx....they're all still modern day 'girdles.') Whitney said many customers who buy this pantie come back for another pair or two because they love them so much. I actually believe her.
As I was handing over my payment, i.e. VISA, to Whitney and promising to treat my new purchase with kid gloves, I was also promising [myself] that I would reduce this problem area so I would not have to return for another pair....ever.
A trip to the lingerie department was in order. I'd put it off long enough. I was making headway on the tummy issue, but then started a temporary desk job and seem to have had a backward slide.
I bypassed Macy's and Victoria Secret and went straight for the Taj Mahal of lingerie; Nordstrom. I am not a huge Nordstrom shopper these days. As a matter of fact I avoid going into that store at all cost. However, when it comes to lingerie, they are "the man." I've made several purchases at other stores in an effort to save a dime only to be disappointed in the product. I now don't waste my time and money.
Cute, petite and twenty-something Whitney was helping me today with my tummy bulge, trying to convince me that she has the same problem. Uh huh, sure. She loaded me up with tummy controlling options and dropped me into a dressing room where the horror show began. Here is the lowdown:
The Hanky Panky lace high rise thong at $23 was certainly sexy and comfortable, but did not provide nearly enough tummy support. I'll keep that one in mind for general every day wear. I know some of my friends swear by that brand, but they are a bit steep on the wallet for an every day pantie.
Next, I wrestled into a Spanx Hide and Sleek full slip at $72.00. Although I was wearing a bra and panties, no lines showed through. However, I did feel like a stuffed sausage and not all that comfortable. It was a bit overkill, not to mention warm. However, the heat could have been a result of the effort it took to get into it. Golly, I hope there aren't two way mirrors or video surveillance cameras in those dressing rooms. What a show I would have provided! If worn under a dress, I am not sure I'd feel comfortable dancing, eating, or even sitting down in this garment.
The Yummie Tummie camisole at $62.00 was almost what I was after. The belly support was perfect, however, the garment is meant to be worn over, say, jeans and under a T-shirt with the bottom part sticking out giving a layered effect. Uhhh, not what I'm after. I need something to wear under some clingy dresses.
The Body Wrap boy short was a bargain at $28.00, but it felt like wearing bike shorts. I just can't feel comfortable wearing something that feels like I got off my bike and threw on a dress. I saw a girl the other day on the bus turn to sit down. Her purse caught her skirt and lifted up and voila, there were her 'bike shorts' flashing the other passengers. Okay, better than flashing commando, or a thong, but I just don't care for the bike shorts under my skirts. Again, just too much extra fabric.
Whitney went in the back to drum up a little secret hidden gem. She excitedly presented me with a "Fifty's Vintage Style" pantie with all kinds of panels and technological hoo ha that is functional, yet sexy. Okay, these are reminiscent of something my mother would have worn in her hay day. My mother, mind you, was born in 1923. You get the picture.
Another Yummie Tummie full slip was sleek and comfortable, but didn't really offer much in the way of support at all. Whitney told me she was wearing the same slip at that moment. Whitney is 110 lb soaking wet. I can hardly take her testimony seriously.
The final garment and the one I went home with is a Spanx Haute Couture lace thong. I can't even tell you what I paid for this tiny piece of fabric because it's unfathomable. I think there's a plane ticket to somewhere for less money. However, it was amazing. It hit in all the right places. It tucked in all the right places. It was still sexy. I didn't feel like I was wearing a girdle by another name (body shaper, body wrap, boy shorts, yummie tummie, spanx....they're all still modern day 'girdles.') Whitney said many customers who buy this pantie come back for another pair or two because they love them so much. I actually believe her.
As I was handing over my payment, i.e. VISA, to Whitney and promising to treat my new purchase with kid gloves, I was also promising [myself] that I would reduce this problem area so I would not have to return for another pair....ever.
Monday, August 31, 2009
The Golden Years Look Pretty Golden
A wonderful couple I've known for thirty years just celebrated their 50th Wedding Anniversary. Wow. Fifty years. That seems amazing to me. In this day and age, it is amazing. Marriages don't tend to last "til death do us part." It's more like til the marriage dies for one or both parties.
Ironically enough, I left the Bridal Barn to go work at a law office. The attorney I'm temporarily assisting happens to specialize in "Marriage Dissolution." Oh, how my life takes a turn on a dime. I'm sure there is some lesson here. Can you just imagine me answering the phone one day "Good afternoon, Divorce Attorneys R Us," and it's one of my brides on the other end of the line. Okay, that's morbid, I know. Besides, given the fact that both jobs were/are so temporary, it's highly unlikely.
Some stats:
43% of first time marriages end within 15 years. I signed my divorce papers just one and a half months before our 15th anniversary. This wasn't planned. I did not have this information on hand when choosing to divorce. It's not as if I was thinking, "hmmm...our 15 year limit is about up, better get those papers filed in time."
The average lifespan of a marriage is eight years. Okay, so you get to the seven year itch and then it takes another year to get everything in order?
75% of all divorced people remarry, usually within three years. I'm on the seventh year with no future prospects in place. But I might be an unusual case study. In any case, I'm perfectly happy not being married. However, a partner would be cool, eventually.
Considering how difficult it is to find a partner at age forty-$!&, maybe finding one and getting married at age 18 like my friends and then sticking it out through thick and thin (and I'm pretty sure there were plenty of thick and thin times within that 50 years) isn't such a bad idea. I'm sure it wasn't a 50 year honeymoon. No one is perfect. Today these two are (at least seem to be) happier than ever. And from what I hear from the grapevine (their information sharing daughter) they are having sex like rabbits. OK, besides thinking "Ick, I don't need to know this," I'm both envious and inspired. Maybe my current "lean" years are setting me up for an active later phase that's sure to come.
Regardless of the stats about divorce rates, I feel confident that those family and friends in my life today will be celebrating their Golden Anniversaries as well. I don't know why I feel that way. My pretend-to-be-jaded self aside (I've been accused of being a romantic even), I do believe they will survive til death do them part. For one thing, I'm certainly looking forward to all the upcoming parties. Especially if they are as fun as my friends' party which included a live backyard band and dancing all afternoon on the grass dance floor!
Congratulations Janice and Wayne!
Monday, August 17, 2009
In Response
I just want to clarify in response to all the comments regarding my recent post "Urban Girl, Suburban Boys," I'm not actually opposed to dating men from the suburbs. THEY seem to have difficulty coming into the city. I am limited by my own lack of transportation. If Federal Way boy from the airplane ever actually called me, I'd be all too thrilled to date him. I thought we were having a connection. When, in fact, we were just having a conversation 35,000 ft above sea level.
Obviously, I was light headed. sigh.
Obviously, I was light headed. sigh.
Friday, August 14, 2009
My Life Not Lost
You may notice I've changed the title of my blog from "Lost in Transition" to "My Life in Transition." I decided after almost 3 years the word "Lost" has a bit of a negative connotation. After delving into such books as "The Law of Attraction," "The Secret", and "The Alchemist," as well being a believer that we attract what we dwell upon, I decided being "lost" isn't what I wanted to dwell upon or create for myself.
In reality, I'm not actually lost at all. I'm simply transitioning, and, while going through the process of discovering my next career has become somewhat of a career in and of itself, I do think I am on the right path. I've got a basic, although fuzzy, outline of where I'm headed. With each little side step or diversion along the way, I learn something new, gain an additional skill, meet interesting a valuable people, and have an experience (usually good, sometimes questionable).
My sales consultant career at the 'Bridal Barn' has come to a close. Weirdly enough I actually enjoyed working there the past five months. What could be more fun than dressing excited girls up like princesses all day? Hell, there are days I wouldn't mind dressing up in some ridiculously expensive frock and doing a runway walk. It's been three weeks and I sort of miss my brides, as well as my co-workers. Ah well, on to the next adventure. Currently I'm working in a law firm downtown for a few months, thanks to my wonderful sister-in-law who is always looking out for me. Another play, another cast of characters. The work isn't nearly as fun as the bridal shop, but fun, as well all know, rarely pays as well.
While describing my latest temp job to a friend her immediate response was "Wow, that's great! This could go somewhere. You might decide you want to get into paralegal work or something. This is good for your resume. You never know where this could lead."
I must have been looking at her sideways, because she was quickly snapped back to the reality of who she was talking about.
"Oh, that's not you is it?"
Although that is not my ultimate career goal, she is right about one thing. You never know what one thing might lead to. I honestly enjoy trying out different types of work and switching it up every few months. For seventeen years I worked in the insurance industry and while definitely more lucrative, I became bored and frustrated to tears (literally some days).
So no, "lost" I am not. I am on the exact path I'm suppose to be on, although it may not be a path others can appreciate or even see from their own maps. I'm certain that I'll arrive in the right place at the right time.
In reality, I'm not actually lost at all. I'm simply transitioning, and, while going through the process of discovering my next career has become somewhat of a career in and of itself, I do think I am on the right path. I've got a basic, although fuzzy, outline of where I'm headed. With each little side step or diversion along the way, I learn something new, gain an additional skill, meet interesting a valuable people, and have an experience (usually good, sometimes questionable).
My sales consultant career at the 'Bridal Barn' has come to a close. Weirdly enough I actually enjoyed working there the past five months. What could be more fun than dressing excited girls up like princesses all day? Hell, there are days I wouldn't mind dressing up in some ridiculously expensive frock and doing a runway walk. It's been three weeks and I sort of miss my brides, as well as my co-workers. Ah well, on to the next adventure. Currently I'm working in a law firm downtown for a few months, thanks to my wonderful sister-in-law who is always looking out for me. Another play, another cast of characters. The work isn't nearly as fun as the bridal shop, but fun, as well all know, rarely pays as well.
While describing my latest temp job to a friend her immediate response was "Wow, that's great! This could go somewhere. You might decide you want to get into paralegal work or something. This is good for your resume. You never know where this could lead."
I must have been looking at her sideways, because she was quickly snapped back to the reality of who she was talking about.
"Oh, that's not you is it?"
Although that is not my ultimate career goal, she is right about one thing. You never know what one thing might lead to. I honestly enjoy trying out different types of work and switching it up every few months. For seventeen years I worked in the insurance industry and while definitely more lucrative, I became bored and frustrated to tears (literally some days).
So no, "lost" I am not. I am on the exact path I'm suppose to be on, although it may not be a path others can appreciate or even see from their own maps. I'm certain that I'll arrive in the right place at the right time.
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