Tremendous Blondette

There are pieces of bookcase sitting on my living room floor. They’ve been there since yesterday morning when I dragged the box from the kitchen, tore it open (slowly) and removed the contents. I was fully intending to construct the bookcase yesterday, but after surveying the components and realizing that I needed to grab my tools from the closet (as if) I quickly lost motivation. Back  to the couch I went until it was time to meet Tammi for coffee at Starbucks. (yes, we still do that)

Still sitting in my kitchen (gallantly propped against the dishwasher) is the box containing the bedside table that I really need to put together. I’m currently using a Rubbermaid container as my nightstand. It was okay for the first couple weeks, but let’s be honest, shouldn’t I have actual furniture by now? The answer is yes.

I spent today lounging, napping, and reading. I feel only a sliver of guilt, but I do have to make sure I am mindful of getting proper rest. Oh, and I worked hard on Friday to clean and rearrange my house – to the determent of healing my broken toe. *note, if you break a toe, it’s probably not a good idea to shove it into shoes and move furniture within the first 2 weeks of healing. Unless you have one of these breaks where they tell you to shove it into shoes. (mine isn’t like that)

Back to the rearranging of my house! Furniture rearranging is on my list of things that make me happy. It clears my chi. It’s refreshing.

freshly vacuumed, dusted, and rearranged...ahh!

Oh, and I’m officially closer to my 30th birthday than my 29th. (yesterday was my half birthday)

Oh yes, tomorrow I am attending a class to get my concealed carry permit/license in the State of Missouri.

Be afraid.

There might be renditions (okay, severe karaoke butchering) of Aerosmith’s Janie’s Got a Gun.

the sight of bright yellow stripes on the road against wet pavement.

carry on

I ended up starting a new blog for all of my “I’m soo fat! *waaaah waaaah waaahh*” posts. On it, I actually will talk about my continued quest to eat healthy and figure out how to incorporate exercise back into my life. Here’s the URL: http://fatladykatie.wordpress.com/

It’s the busy season at work (yes, I know it’s always busy, but this is the busiest!) so I’m doing a lot more traveling and pulling longer (yes, it’s possible) hours than usual. I struggled earlier this year with balance and motivation. As I approach my 30th birthday I spend more time evaluating my goals and the current state of my life. I’ve devoted my twenties to my career, but I also know that as a woman, the longer I wait to fulfill my other goals/dreams of having a family, the harder it will be to fulfill them. It’s scary. It’s scary to think that I may never have those other things and that I will have to seek purpose and joy from my career alone. I’m pretty sure the consistent weight gain of the past 7 months is directly correlated to my stress over my life evaluation. I stop and wonder “who’s going to want me?” It depresses me so I put it out of my mind and focus on something else – thus avoiding the problem all together.

So, what do you do readers? How do you face the music?

Also, I’m blonde again.

Yesterday when I walked into Subway, I was focused on getting a gigantic glass of iced tea. Up early, I’d had coffee and shopped by way from 10am to Noon- thirty and I was now very thirsty. My little sinus infection may have played a role in that thirst. (side note: after only a couple doses of antibiotics, I already feel better.)

I’ve never encountered a line longer than 2 people at this particular Subway, but yesterday I waited behind a couple, a man with two sons all decked out in baseball uniforms, and a mother with two young boys. My focus was quickly drawn to the mother and sons. For one, the smaller of the two boys was buzzing around the shop from the window, to his mom, to a table, to the cooler case. The older boy stayed with his mom and absorbed her protective, affectionate embrace. I could imagine what a tiring job it would be to be this woman. I view mothers and children with different eyes lately. A thin veil of fear and realization that you are in tune to someone else completely . You are never alone. Me? Can I do that? I’ve never doubted wanting children. But never before have a I realized how much you change your life for children. I watched a mother and father at Target on Friday evening – a 2 year old boy in one cart and a baby in another. The mother expertly divided her attention and spread her warm adoration to both of her children. This was a prettier picture. They wanted to get in the aisle where I’d stowed my cart (if you’ve ever been to the pharmacy at the Super Target on 152, you’ll understand why I would be stowing my cart in an aisle while I waited my turn at the counter.) I was next up at the counter, but I risked my place in line to exit the row and “go around the long way” up another aisle in order to let the family into the aisle. I thought of how some of my friends might react; probably wouldn’t be quite so accommodating. But, after all, it wasn’t “hard” to move and what would it have accomplished had I not moved? Maybe the family shouldn’t expect me to move just because they hadn’t properly planned or were logistically challenged and had chosen to use 2 carts, but does that mean I couldn’t or shouldn’t move. Digression.

The thing I noticed almost immediately about the mother at Subway? Though she was dressed in a simple outfit of jean shorts and a tshirt, baby weight still clinging to her stomach and thighs ardently, she was strikingly beautiful. Raven colored hair (looked like it was assisted) simply made up face, but the opposite of carefree branded on her face. She didn’t look like she knew she was a beautiful creature and she didn’t look “happy.” I pondered “how can I let her know how pretty she is without being creepy?” Wouldn’t that make her feel nice? To be noticed for HER.

I’d been at Old Navy before I decided to visit Subway, and I saw person after person who had some beauty that was likely not appreciated. There was a young girl in early puberty wearing ill fitting clothes that did nothing but show off her less than svelte form. But when you really looked at the girl, you saw she had luscious naturally blonde hair and an angelic face. This girl was a beauty. I felt a little sad for her because her mother was not setting a good example or helping her look her best. Had you put the girl in the little sundress that I was in line waiting to pay for, the first impression would have been completely different. From raggamuffin to lovely.

And before you say something about beauty being on the inside and it doesn’t matter what you look like on the outside, I cry BULLSHIT. You cannot simply ignore the sociological impact of your appearance and impression. However, you should stop and truly look at people. I’m not talking about always wearing the most fashionable clothes, always wearing makeup, or being done up. I’m simply talking about wearing clothes that fit, having confidence, and being comfortable in your skin.

I like people who have a sense of self. It is the defining feature in my friendships and relationships.

I’m still trying to figure out how I can tell people of their loveliness without being creepy. I’ll let you know when I figure it out – or I’ll creep you out.

Life is about association. I heard The Dixie Chicks on the radio earlier this week and it made me think of their song  “Wide Open Spaces.”

Then I thought about listening to the Dixie Chicks on repeat in my dorm room while reading “The Deep End of the Ocean.”

One itty bitty thing triggered a physical, mental, and emotional response. Three things for three things.

It costs $6, but you get to keep the cup.

On Wednesday, I attended the Royals game with a group of coworkers. Our agency acquired tickets and decided that each manager and director would take 3 staff members to a game. I totally picked the right day. The weather was amazing, though windy.

Every step we took made me think “boy, this place has changed!” When I was in the early elementary school years I got to tour the stadium with my school group.

I remember years of plastic souvenir cups at my aunt Jean’s house. I just kept thinking about the dishwasher worn cups and how many there were! They really must have gone to a lot of games. At that point, they were somewhere near my current age. To be fair, my aunt Jean is an extrovert and much more social than I am so I shouldn’t be that surprised that she had a lot more “life” than I do. In fact, she still has more life and extracurricular activities.

It’s not that I don’t like to do things, but it takes more mental effort for me. I have to force myself to say “yes.” I’m usually dandy once I get to an event. Sometimes, I’m not and I think about what I’m going to do when I get home…and hope it won’t be too late to enjoy my reclusiveness.

I’m just a homebody. I like activities that involve my home.

Anyway, the cups reminded me of a different time of life. Childhood. The house on McGee. Our first home in Kansas City – a strange mixture of emotions. I wrote something not so nice on the wall with wax. I played Uno on the wooden floors and watched Days of Our Lives with my cousins in the sunroom (which became the playroom when my cousin Stephanie was born.)

I remember going to a game with my mom, my aunt, and my aunt’s friends and feeling really cool becuase I was out with the women. We cleaned up after the game and went a Mediterranean restaurant for dinner (this was before I developed a love for hummus and feta cheese, but not before my love of black olives.)

All from one damn cup.

Stumbling up the stairs looking kind of like Frankenstein’s Creature lumbering awkwardly with arms outstretched- picture it. That’s me.

Two Saturday’s ago I was lying on my couch trying to stay awake. I could have slept the day away. Instead, I put on my tennis shoes and moved it, moved it. (Yes, I quoted cartoon animals.) I sucked up the sunshine and moved my body into a state of awakeness.

And Sunday came and I did it again.

And Monday came and I did it again.

Tuesday and Wednesday brought rain.

Thursday and Friday brought illness.

But Saturday…well, Saturday brought a goal. I decided I was going to walk at least 5 miles. A perfectly symmetrical forehead sunburn and 2 or so hours later, I’d walked 7-8 miles around my northland neighborhood. When I got home I realized that my bangs had been sticking out for more than half the walk because I’d moved my headband down to my hairline. (hence the symmetry of the burn.)

I’ve learned a few things and I think my butt is tighter. Did you know that people put a lot of crap in their garages and leave the door open so you can see it all? Yep. Did you know there are a ton of cops in my neighborhood. Yep. (I live fairly close to a police station.) Did you know you’ll see natural prairie grass- right by my house? Oh, and there’s a random body of water just down the street? And there’s a little puppy who looks like a fox.

But just so you know, there are hills here and you can pull muscles walking.

Today I told a room full of people that I was going to name my dog (mythical, I’m not getting a dog) Pivot. After the “pivot table” in Excel. Yes. After the awkward laughter, we moved on to the rest of the training.

I watched Julie and Julia this weekend. It was pretty good and I found that I enjoyed watching Meryl Streep play Julia Child more than I enjoy watching Julia Child play herself. I keep flipping to her on public television and then flipping away. This is sad considering what I will watch on public television. I remember one night where I even told someone else to turn on a show on KCPT. Dear self, way to impress people.