Fashion Report

In case seeing 80's fashions in stores wasn't scary enough,

according to Urban Outfitters this fall The Trend is: 

Do ya'll remember wearing plaids shirts back in the day? According to my photos from the 1990's, this was not a good idea then.

Why re-live the frump now?

P.S. Why would you want to mix anything with "disheveled plaids"? Oy vey.

P.P.S. Young girls are apparently going to be dressing in 90's "vintage" attire this fall. Does this mean I am officially old?

Estro-Lair Inhabitants

If we are going to be friends, I figured you'd want to see who you are sharing the Estrogen Lair with... namely, Rocky the Wise

and Gus Gus the intellectually-challenged.

Big Girls DO Cry

Right now, I do a lot of thinking about weight. More specifically, my weight. I have been unhappy with my size for a long time. I never had a problem (was an average size 6 or 8 for most of my 20s) until I moved to Denver. The stress of the move, a difficult relationship, homesickness, etc., all created the perfect storm. I started to eat to feel better. I didn't even know I was doing it. Until I blinked and was up A LOTTA pounds and had no idea how it happened.


Suddenly my ass wasn't just a little junk in the trunk. Suddenly my ass needed its own zip code. I could have served tea off my ass, I swear. No one would ever try it, and trust me, I asked my friends to try, but I BET you that it could have been done. I guess I should be grateful that I gain weight proportionately - at least that's what I've been told. All that means to me is that my face is as fat as my ass. Essentially, all my weight goes to my cheeks - either the ones on my face on the ones that I sit on.


Over the past seven years, I've tried almost every fad diet in the book. They all work. Until you stop. And, then, since you have only eaten cabbage soup or only drank shakes for three weeks, you are starving and you want to eat every item on McDonald's dollar menu AND a two pound bag of M&Ms. Dipped in guacamole.


So, I'm done with the fad diets. I have to lose the weight realistically. Rationally. Slowly. It's not fun. At some point in my life, food became somewhat of a comfort for me. And, food should be comforting and yummy and make you happy - but you can't eat the entire refrigerator. And, I needed - need - to relearn that. And, retrain myself to enjoy exercise. Big girls don't enjoy exercise. Shit jiggles. It ain't pretty. I don't like the gym that much because I sweat. A lot. Like a really advanced pig that can operate an elliptical.


But all kidding aside, I am ready to do this for myself. I am ready to reclaim my life and my body and my self-esteem that has been languishing in My Ass Is Fat Land for years. People treat larger people different. And, you don't even have to be "that" large. You can just be heavier than skinny. Trust me. I've been a size 2 and a size 14. You are treated differently. But, I am not doing it to be noticed. I am serious about reclaiming my body for myself. I deserve to have a healthy body. I deserve to lead a healthy life. I deserve to feel good about myself when I look in the mirror.


Weight Loss for this week: 3.8 pounds


I'm NOT going to give up on myself this time.

S%@t! Now what?

I have performance anxiety. I just posted my new little bitty blog online for the world-I mean, all 442 Facebook friends-to see and now I am stricken. What to write about? What's too much? What's not enough? Dammit, I knew I should have just gotten a tattoo. That would have entertained me for a while. But a blog? Now I have to keep thinking of shit to say. (Note to readers - all three of you: I curse. Sometimes I curse a lot. Yes, I agree that sometimes cursing is immature and perhaps a sign of poor vocabulary... but it's my blog (na ne na ne boo boo) and so I'll probably wind up using curse words intermixed with polysyllabic words, primarily for effect. Just call it a writing technique. Plus, it's not like I curse at work. Or in church.)


Anyway, I digress.


So, back to my anxiety. Shocking. I decided to start writing a blog to get out the crazy thoughts running through my anxiety-riddled brain and what happens? I get anxiety about writing the blog. Are you starting to sense the issue here? I dream up things to be anxious about. Apparently I did this even as a kid. At least I'm consistent.


Since there aren't nearly enough fascinating events in my daily life to actually accumulate more than like, um, six interesting posts, I think I'll need to pepper my daily exploits with other tidbits. For instance, any crafty girl projects I start up (Next on the crafting agenda - ceramic coasters decoupaged with scrapbook paper. I'll post a tutorial, doncha worry. These babies are cheap AND adorable!) And, I have had more than my fair share of bad relationships/bad dates, so as those no doubt continue to accumulate (if I ever actually leave the basement), I can share them. And of course, I am going to use this as a motivational tool to help me lose the weight I gained while living in The Healthiest State in the Country (See? Even my weight gain is ironic.) So, I'll chronicle that too. (Scintillating, I know.)


Okay, I'm feeling better about this. I think I can do - Oh - awesome - Intervention is on. Love me some Intervention... although it just makes me want a drink. I wish I had some wine... is it really fair that wine has calories??


I think my blog has ADHD.

What's next? Locusts?

One thing I never thought I'd be able to claim: I have experienced an earthquake. But, after the 5.9 earthquake that hit the East Coast this week, I can indeed say such a thing. I was at the office and no one really knew what was happening until it was practically over. I started to head under my desk considering my desk backs up to floor-to-ceiling windows and I didn't want to ruin my sweater by getting impaled on a large window shard. Some people started running out the doors, although I'm not sure that was the best idea since the two story atrium of our building is all glass as well.


I'm glad no one was injured and that damage was minimal. (I know the West Coast-ers were mocking us East Coast-ers for panicking, but I think that considering many people feeling this quake also lived through the 9/11 attacks in some way or another, panic seems understandable. You don't forget the fear that came with 9/11 -- even if you weren't actually at one of the sites.) Anyway, I didn't know that earthquakes made a noise - that is what threw me. There was a really loud sound accompanying the tremor and that is what made me think that we were being attacked or had been hit by something at first. Then I realized, as my stapler started bouncing towards the edge of my desk, it was an earthquake. It was definitely a scary experience and I can only imagine what a truly devasting earthquake must feel like.


The strange thing is, Colorado experienced an earthquake the day before DC was hit with one. That is very unusual. I started to worry that The Universe had it out for me and was a little behind on my current address. This irrational concern was further cemented as the week's next visitor started up the coast...


Hurricane Irene is moving through the DMV this weekend. A hurricane coming through on the heels of the quake? WTF? I figure we are due for a serious locust infestation or some other biblical plague next. Maybe the stink bugs ARE the infestation? Geez. And, everyone back home was worried about blizzards when I lived in Denver - land of no humidity and 300 days of sunshine. Uh huh.


I find the craziness that has preceeds the actual "event" is a little funny. For instance - I get stocking up on bottled water and batteries, etc. That makes sense. But, can you explain why I came home yesterday to three loaves of bread AND three packages of english muffins? Apparently, if the power goes out my parents think we are going to be eating a lot of untoasted carbohydrates.


I didn't stop and buy anything at grocery store yesterday. My rationale was if we are stuck in the house without power and nothing to eat for a few days, that will only help my weight loss goals. I've stocked up for blizzards before in Denver and gained about 10 pounds in three days. Clearly, my idea of stocking up is more about liters of wine, blocks of Velveeta and bags of tortilla chips than it is about loaves of bread and bottled water.


However you prepare for natural disasters, me and the cats hope you stay safe and dry (and well-hydrated with the beverage of your choice) this weekend as Ms. Irene comes to town!

Why a Blog?

I decided to start a blog for a few reasons. And, since this blog is a place for me to carry on about whatever I want, I'm going to share those reasons with you, my loyal readers. (Hi, Mom.)


Why I Started A Blog


1. I have a lot to say and the cats have stopped speaking to me.
2. My Facebook friends asked me to stop posting.
3. I can't say anything succinctly and Twitter has a 140 character limit.
4. I'm trying to lose weight and I can't eat anything while I'm typing.
5. I'm on a quest to expose the truth about single women in their mid-thirties.
6. I moved back in with my parents and they live in a really small town where there are no bars and I am really bored.


Wait. Upon reading my list, I realize I sound somewhat pathetic. But, I'm really not. Honest! And, you can believe that because it is on the internet and everything on the internet is true. But, seriously, let me expound upon the list...

For instance, the cats didn't stop speaking to me. They actually have never spoken to me. They are cats, after all. And, my Facebook friends didn't ask me to stop posting. That is a bold-faced lie that I added in for giggles and to increase the overall count of my list. A few friends have mentioned at times I should write a book about all the somewhat-kooky things that seem to happen to me (usually after another failed dating experiment), but I am editing a book for a freelance client and I know that a book is a lot of work. Blogging sounds less work-ish.


What else? Oh yeah. I am trying to lose weight. That's absolutely true. And, I have not eaten a single thing while I have been writing this entry so it's working. I'm probably even burning calories typing. And, thinking. Now, I could go for a glass of wine, but I'm working on curbing my wino ways, so no vino para me. (Did I just combine Italian and Spanish?)

As for exposing the truth about single women in their mid-thirties, I think the truth will come out eventually. Probably by, like, post number four or something.

Last but oh-most-certainly-NOT least, I live with my parents. Yep. In the basement. And, I'm 34. Yep. It's awesome. Actually, it kind of is - for now. I lived in Denver for almost seven years and moved back to my hometown last year to be closer to family. I decided to move in with my parents to save money for a house. And, it's all working out quite well! Except for the fact that they/we live in a small town and there isn't a whole lot to do around here. Sure, I live in one of the most heavily populated areas of the United States and I could find plenty to do within about 30 minutes of my house... but YOU try to find something fun to do that isn't fattening, over-priced or illegal. Seriously, think. There isn't much left if you add those parameters. So, for now, I am pretty "boring." I work - a lot - and attempt to work out - a little - and well, um, I sleep too. And, apply anti-aging creams.

But the real reason I decided to start this blog is because thoughts run through my brain faster than three year olds at Chuck E Cheese, and I thought it would be therapeutic to spew them out. And, since we've already covered the whole cats not speaking to me thing, obviously the next best thing was to "write" all my crazy-ass,whirling dervish thoughts down and shoot them into cyberspace for all/none/someone to read. Plus, blogs ARE the new black. And, I do try to stay on trend.

So, um, thanks for reading.