I don't remember any of it. If you follow me on twitter, I suspect you knew that. Once again, my phone needs a breathalyzer.
I dropped said phone into the bleachers. Thankfully it didn't go far. But then I worried about what else I dropped in the bleachers and spent most of the game looking for 2 pairs of gloves and a very nice scarf that I KNEW I had put in my pocket even though HM said I didn't.
He was right. He says I need to trust him about these things and I... Didn't have a reasonable response because he's right.
Either way, good times. We accidentally matched outfits so I'd say that was a win too.
Saturday, October 05, 2013
Friday, October 04, 2013
Apparenlty, I did good
I showed up to work today, which was actually last week, but, whatever, with my new sporty look.
The male coworker who originally gave me a hard time for wearing red on Homecoming weekend? Practically applauded. Then he asked me to name one player on Nevada's team and I had to admit that although I LOOK like I know what's going on, I really don't. He made sure that I know that the starting quarterback's name is Cody. "I think I can remember that", I said, "I dated a Cody and also had a goat named Cody. We should be good". Then he gave me crap about football-y stuff and had a good laugh. I'm okay with that, I laugh at me too. (BTW, I'm not FOOTBALL ignorant, just college football ignorant. Clearly, that will have to change.) Plus, it's fun when that coworker gets all silly and excited about stuff because ordinarily, he is quite stoic.
And our courier says I'm rockin' the look and that I did a good job.
Which means I'm super excited for HM to see what I came up with. It makes me feel all girly and stuff. Which is good. It kind of makes me wish that I had bought something in nylon with holes in it sooner.
Not really. I hate this shit. But since it's a "jersey" I can deal.
The male coworker who originally gave me a hard time for wearing red on Homecoming weekend? Practically applauded. Then he asked me to name one player on Nevada's team and I had to admit that although I LOOK like I know what's going on, I really don't. He made sure that I know that the starting quarterback's name is Cody. "I think I can remember that", I said, "I dated a Cody and also had a goat named Cody. We should be good". Then he gave me crap about football-y stuff and had a good laugh. I'm okay with that, I laugh at me too. (BTW, I'm not FOOTBALL ignorant, just college football ignorant. Clearly, that will have to change.) Plus, it's fun when that coworker gets all silly and excited about stuff because ordinarily, he is quite stoic.
And our courier says I'm rockin' the look and that I did a good job.
Which means I'm super excited for HM to see what I came up with. It makes me feel all girly and stuff. Which is good. It kind of makes me wish that I had bought something in nylon with holes in it sooner.
Not really. I hate this shit. But since it's a "jersey" I can deal.
Thursday, October 03, 2013
Part 7 - Only I can milk a few days of shopping this long...
After my local gigantic sporting goods store yielded higher prices than I was willing to pay for logo gear to a school I did not attend, I went back to Target, figuring that I could wear a compression bra to make the shirt fit better. Take away my boobs, and I suddenly don't have a pin-head and I actually look slender. I always wondered why anyone would want a minimizer bra...
Since the day before, when I was there last, Target had shirts in my size. I went for the jersey style and bought a warm shirt to layer under it. My friend Countessa had already offered to loan me her parka from when she played softball for the college and I had picked up some leggings at the Old Navy Outlet for a very reasonable price to wear under my jeans.
FINALLY satisfied with my prize, I headed home.
The game better be good. In fact Nevada had better win it.
Although the process was REALLY frustrating, I am kind of glad I went through it. I'll be thinking twice before I buy something, and checking the fabric and the seams a little more closely. I work to hard to throw away my paychecks on garbage.
Since the day before, when I was there last, Target had shirts in my size. I went for the jersey style and bought a warm shirt to layer under it. My friend Countessa had already offered to loan me her parka from when she played softball for the college and I had picked up some leggings at the Old Navy Outlet for a very reasonable price to wear under my jeans.
FINALLY satisfied with my prize, I headed home.
The game better be good. In fact Nevada had better win it.
Although the process was REALLY frustrating, I am kind of glad I went through it. I'll be thinking twice before I buy something, and checking the fabric and the seams a little more closely. I work to hard to throw away my paychecks on garbage.
Wednesday, October 02, 2013
Part 6 - Seriously? Part 6?
I did what any other person would so in my situation, I bitched on Facebook, and received a few welcome suggestions on where to pick up a shirt in town.
I hit the hospital near my work. While they had a great selection, their prices were high and shirts, while better quality, were thin. Even the outerwear was thin. If the wind is going to blow right through a fleece jacket, you may as well not spend 50 bucks on the fleece jacket. I was less angry with the purchasing agents at the hospital because, it's a hospital, not a clothing store.
I returned to work where I had my epiphany.
I'm no longer going to spend my hard earned dollars on mediocrity.
I thought that should be big and bold. Because it's important and I hope more people adopt this philosophy. We buy a lot of crap, us Americans. And by buying crap and accepting low quality, we are telling buyers and manufacturers that this is acceptable. Suddenly, all we can get is crap and then we bitch about it.
I know this means that I will have to pay more for what I want. That there will be less impulse buys of stuff because it was cheap. But I also fail to see why that is a bad thing. I think I will save money in the long run because I won't have to replace crappy stuff AND when it comes to clothes, I'll feel better about myself because I won't be worried about whether you can see my belly button through the incredibly thin shirt I am wearing. Self confidence is worth a few more dollars.
Meanwhile, in my own products, I will have to ensure that what I produce is top notch. I already have standards, but I think I need to raise the bar if I am going to expect other producers to raise the bar as well.
This also means I'm going to have to quit talking about it and dump AT&T as my internet provider because the service I am getting from them is sub par.
Yes, I am totally calling out brand names and big companies because I know they have web crawlers out looking for this stuff. And good. I hope they are listening. I know for certain that AT&T didn't hear me when I told their CSR that their service was unreliable. I know because it is STILL unreliable.
I hit the hospital near my work. While they had a great selection, their prices were high and shirts, while better quality, were thin. Even the outerwear was thin. If the wind is going to blow right through a fleece jacket, you may as well not spend 50 bucks on the fleece jacket. I was less angry with the purchasing agents at the hospital because, it's a hospital, not a clothing store.
I returned to work where I had my epiphany.
I'm no longer going to spend my hard earned dollars on mediocrity.
I thought that should be big and bold. Because it's important and I hope more people adopt this philosophy. We buy a lot of crap, us Americans. And by buying crap and accepting low quality, we are telling buyers and manufacturers that this is acceptable. Suddenly, all we can get is crap and then we bitch about it.
I know this means that I will have to pay more for what I want. That there will be less impulse buys of stuff because it was cheap. But I also fail to see why that is a bad thing. I think I will save money in the long run because I won't have to replace crappy stuff AND when it comes to clothes, I'll feel better about myself because I won't be worried about whether you can see my belly button through the incredibly thin shirt I am wearing. Self confidence is worth a few more dollars.
Meanwhile, in my own products, I will have to ensure that what I produce is top notch. I already have standards, but I think I need to raise the bar if I am going to expect other producers to raise the bar as well.
This also means I'm going to have to quit talking about it and dump AT&T as my internet provider because the service I am getting from them is sub par.
Yes, I am totally calling out brand names and big companies because I know they have web crawlers out looking for this stuff. And good. I hope they are listening. I know for certain that AT&T didn't hear me when I told their CSR that their service was unreliable. I know because it is STILL unreliable.
Tuesday, October 01, 2013
Part 5 - An Angry Shopper can be dangerous
I arrived at Kohls hoping to find what I was looking for. Although they did have some cute shirts in Women's sizes, and I did try one on, I just couldn't bring myself to buy it.
The quality was poor. Really poor. "This won't survive my washing machine" poor. And tissue thin. There's snow in the hills right now. These shirts, would be better sold in the desert. The Sahara Desert, not the high desert of Nevada. Suddenly I was cranky all over again, because they were trying to sell me a shirt, which was very inappropriate for the climate where I live, for $25, which, having handled the logo merchandise for the Reno Roller Girls for over 5 years, I knew cost $2. Maybe less. They buy a lot more of them than I could ever afford for RRG and I was paying $10 per shirt printed (Women's. Men's shirts are WAY cheaper) . For WAY better quality. (I'm a big fan of District Clothing by the way, if ever you are looking to get something printed) I said it on Facebook, and I will say it again. Russell Athletics should be ashamed to put their brand name on such a low quality garment. And the buyers at Kohls should consider the quality they are putting in their stores. If the quality had been higher, I would have paid the money.
I stomped around the store a bit to see if I could do better, but was unable to find anything suitable. I left and returned home, having visited 4 different stores without finding a shirt I could wear to work or the game, which was rapidly approaching.
The quality was poor. Really poor. "This won't survive my washing machine" poor. And tissue thin. There's snow in the hills right now. These shirts, would be better sold in the desert. The Sahara Desert, not the high desert of Nevada. Suddenly I was cranky all over again, because they were trying to sell me a shirt, which was very inappropriate for the climate where I live, for $25, which, having handled the logo merchandise for the Reno Roller Girls for over 5 years, I knew cost $2. Maybe less. They buy a lot more of them than I could ever afford for RRG and I was paying $10 per shirt printed (Women's. Men's shirts are WAY cheaper) . For WAY better quality. (I'm a big fan of District Clothing by the way, if ever you are looking to get something printed) I said it on Facebook, and I will say it again. Russell Athletics should be ashamed to put their brand name on such a low quality garment. And the buyers at Kohls should consider the quality they are putting in their stores. If the quality had been higher, I would have paid the money.
I stomped around the store a bit to see if I could do better, but was unable to find anything suitable. I left and returned home, having visited 4 different stores without finding a shirt I could wear to work or the game, which was rapidly approaching.
Monday, September 30, 2013
Part 4 - The longest shopping story ever
Back to Target I went, this time hitting the OTHER Target. I returned the too-small shirt intending to exchange it but there was no XL. In the shirt I wanted. I briefly considered going for a jersey style shirt, but they were a little more expensive and they didn't have an XL in that one either.
To Wal Mart. The selection there consisted of Men's shirts or Juniors sizes in bright pink. I don't wear bright pink, and I know for a fact that HM won't be seen in public if I am wearing that color. Hell, don't blame him, I won't be seen in my HOUSE in that color.
Now, I am cranky. I'm angry with the buyers at these major shopping chains who don't do their due diligence in discovering the popular sizes. I'm angry because the options are limited if you are a woman, and quite frankly, it tends to be the women who do the shopping for these things. I could have chosen a shirt for HM in five minutes that I am confident he would like, but for myself, there was nothing. Unless I wanted something ill-fitting or age inappropriate.
I'm really trying to class it up. I've been retiring some of my tighter, low cut shirts in favor of better fit and less cleavage. I know, that sounds completely unlike anything I have said before, but truthfully, while that stuff was okay in my 20's I'm in my mid thirties now. I don't want to be that old lady with her boobs hanging out everywhere all the time. (Derby doesn't count.) It's past time for me to aim for Ann Taylor instead of Anna Nicole Smith.
I headed to Kohls, already bordering on irate.
To Wal Mart. The selection there consisted of Men's shirts or Juniors sizes in bright pink. I don't wear bright pink, and I know for a fact that HM won't be seen in public if I am wearing that color. Hell, don't blame him, I won't be seen in my HOUSE in that color.
Now, I am cranky. I'm angry with the buyers at these major shopping chains who don't do their due diligence in discovering the popular sizes. I'm angry because the options are limited if you are a woman, and quite frankly, it tends to be the women who do the shopping for these things. I could have chosen a shirt for HM in five minutes that I am confident he would like, but for myself, there was nothing. Unless I wanted something ill-fitting or age inappropriate.
I'm really trying to class it up. I've been retiring some of my tighter, low cut shirts in favor of better fit and less cleavage. I know, that sounds completely unlike anything I have said before, but truthfully, while that stuff was okay in my 20's I'm in my mid thirties now. I don't want to be that old lady with her boobs hanging out everywhere all the time. (Derby doesn't count.) It's past time for me to aim for Ann Taylor instead of Anna Nicole Smith.
I headed to Kohls, already bordering on irate.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Part Three - The Journey Begins
Knowing that I was going to be needing some Nevada logo gear and also knowing that I needed a gift for my favorite twins, I headed over to Target.
While there, I found birthday cards, neat stuff I didn't buy, no presents for the twins, and a shirt. Score! mission accomplished at the first store. WOOHOO!
They didn't have a large selection, but they had a few things in Junior's sizes that were okay. The Women's cut shirts looked like they were better off in the rag bin. Very low cut, cheap material and not at all cute. Whatever, I can wear a Juniors cut as long as it's an extra large. The shirts available in this cut were better quality, not low cut, and a reasonable price. All they had was large.
Okay. Well, I've been working out and eating better (shut up Top Ramen) so perhaps I can wear a large. I headed out and across the street to Total Wine where I found gifts for the twins and plenty of my favorite vodka for me.
Upon arriving home I discovered that I could not, indeed, wear that shirt.
Damnit.
While there, I found birthday cards, neat stuff I didn't buy, no presents for the twins, and a shirt. Score! mission accomplished at the first store. WOOHOO!
They didn't have a large selection, but they had a few things in Junior's sizes that were okay. The Women's cut shirts looked like they were better off in the rag bin. Very low cut, cheap material and not at all cute. Whatever, I can wear a Juniors cut as long as it's an extra large. The shirts available in this cut were better quality, not low cut, and a reasonable price. All they had was large.
Okay. Well, I've been working out and eating better (shut up Top Ramen) so perhaps I can wear a large. I headed out and across the street to Total Wine where I found gifts for the twins and plenty of my favorite vodka for me.
Upon arriving home I discovered that I could not, indeed, wear that shirt.
Damnit.
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Part two - Gauntlets have been thrown
Last Friday, I was sitting at my desk in my favorite white oxford shirt (I can't help it. I feel a little more classy in a white button down with jeans instead of a sweater or a tee shirt) supporting my local college team by wearing the right color, when our courier came by.
Sometimes, if she has a bit of time, we chat a little.
She asked me where my Wolf Pack Logo Gear was and I explained that even after 6 years of living in Reno, I don't have any.
Oh boy. Wrong answer.
I learned that this is not acceptable. That I need to head down to my local ANY store RIGHT AWAY and pick up a tee shirt. I've always thought it is a little silly to wear the logo gear of a school you have not attended, but when in Rome, you do as the Romans do. It turns out, I would have to go shopping.
Not long after, my friend came along and offered me tickets to an upcoming game. I took them with the caveat that I would return them if I wasn't going to use them, and I called HM.
When HM learned that I did not have any Nevada logo gear, he announced that he wasn't going to be seen with me unless I was wearing some.
Now I REALLY have to go shopping. But I didn't mind, I had seen those shirts all over the place and wasn't worried about finding something suitable right away.
Boy, was I wrong.
Sometimes, if she has a bit of time, we chat a little.
She asked me where my Wolf Pack Logo Gear was and I explained that even after 6 years of living in Reno, I don't have any.
Oh boy. Wrong answer.
I learned that this is not acceptable. That I need to head down to my local ANY store RIGHT AWAY and pick up a tee shirt. I've always thought it is a little silly to wear the logo gear of a school you have not attended, but when in Rome, you do as the Romans do. It turns out, I would have to go shopping.
Not long after, my friend came along and offered me tickets to an upcoming game. I took them with the caveat that I would return them if I wasn't going to use them, and I called HM.
When HM learned that I did not have any Nevada logo gear, he announced that he wasn't going to be seen with me unless I was wearing some.
Now I REALLY have to go shopping. But I didn't mind, I had seen those shirts all over the place and wasn't worried about finding something suitable right away.
Boy, was I wrong.
Friday, September 27, 2013
An intro to the football shopping saga
I live in a college town. A college town without an NFL team. A college town without an NFL team that LOVES some football.
I like football too. On Sundays, I can be seen wandering about my business in my Chargers tee shirt (I have to buy them down south because up here, it's all about the Niners and the Raiders and while the Niners are okay, I won't even TOUCH a Raiders tee because I'm not a thug and I don't want Raiders cooties to rub off on me.)
I like football, but HM LOVES football. I'm learning a lot about the game from him and, while he has his favorite NFL team, Nevada tops his list of college teams, so he goes to the games when he can and tailgates and does all those things you are supposed to do at all football games, but I thought were exclusive to NFL games. I don't think I know anyone who goes to SDSU games. Maybe they do but don't talk about it. I don't know. I really only started getting into football when I was living with Poo because, Cowboys.
I have learned in the years that I have lived in Reno, that you are either a Nevada fan, or, shut up. This even bleeds into work where, on home game Fridays we are allowed and encouraged to wear our fan gear with jeans and show our pride. Pride in the Wolf Pack (which, interestingly, was my High School mascot as well. This caused some confusion when I moved here. With all those Pack stickers on people's cars, I thought I had moved to a hotbed of West Hills Alumni) but nobody else.
A couple of years ago, I unknowingly wore a red shirt on homecoming weekend. I thought my coworker Rob was going to blow a gasket. I was ignorantly wearing the other team's color. Reno and Las Vegas have a pretty strong rivalry and there's something about a cannon that gets painted depending on who wins and gets to take it home. I don't know. Still learning.
Until last week, no one really said anything to me as long as I was wearing white or blue (not red!!). Last week, things got a little crazier.
I like football too. On Sundays, I can be seen wandering about my business in my Chargers tee shirt (I have to buy them down south because up here, it's all about the Niners and the Raiders and while the Niners are okay, I won't even TOUCH a Raiders tee because I'm not a thug and I don't want Raiders cooties to rub off on me.)
I like football, but HM LOVES football. I'm learning a lot about the game from him and, while he has his favorite NFL team, Nevada tops his list of college teams, so he goes to the games when he can and tailgates and does all those things you are supposed to do at all football games, but I thought were exclusive to NFL games. I don't think I know anyone who goes to SDSU games. Maybe they do but don't talk about it. I don't know. I really only started getting into football when I was living with Poo because, Cowboys.
I have learned in the years that I have lived in Reno, that you are either a Nevada fan, or, shut up. This even bleeds into work where, on home game Fridays we are allowed and encouraged to wear our fan gear with jeans and show our pride. Pride in the Wolf Pack (which, interestingly, was my High School mascot as well. This caused some confusion when I moved here. With all those Pack stickers on people's cars, I thought I had moved to a hotbed of West Hills Alumni) but nobody else.
A couple of years ago, I unknowingly wore a red shirt on homecoming weekend. I thought my coworker Rob was going to blow a gasket. I was ignorantly wearing the other team's color. Reno and Las Vegas have a pretty strong rivalry and there's something about a cannon that gets painted depending on who wins and gets to take it home. I don't know. Still learning.
Until last week, no one really said anything to me as long as I was wearing white or blue (not red!!). Last week, things got a little crazier.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
It was a rant-y couple of days, but first, a recap
I went shopping. Which should, if you have been around for any length of time tell you everything. Sine I'm a butt head, I'm going to split my adventure into a few different posts because, well, I haven't been that great about writing and to be honest, I like the whole series writing idea rather that a big long diatribe that takes forever to get through.
So lets just say, that I went shopping and had an epiphany before it was over.
Yes I am a tease.
Things have been pretty good around the Elfin Cottage lately, I have a new roommate who doesn't drive me crazy (although I did have to leave a note asking her to corral her bananas due to my extreme allergy) and things are settling down. I had a couple of weeks of crazy, which aren't quite over yet, but I'm getting there. I've been working out and eating WAY too much Top Ramen, which tastes REALLY GOOD if you leave out the flavor packet and add a little Soy Vey Teriyaki instead.
Had a GREAT birthday, even if I did end up in bed by 8:30. But, this happens when you're drunk by noon. The day was made up of many adventures and perfect parts that I wouldn't have changed. Like breakfast with HM and picnic lunch under the trees with the girls. I am blessed in the people that I know.
I googly eyed just about everything that wouldn't be destroyed in the process. Did you know I have an Instagram account? If you ever want photos of my madness, look up gracenmotion (ginamonster was taken, as was soapgirl). There are a lot of pictures of googly eyes. and my dog.
Good times.
So lets just say, that I went shopping and had an epiphany before it was over.
Yes I am a tease.
Things have been pretty good around the Elfin Cottage lately, I have a new roommate who doesn't drive me crazy (although I did have to leave a note asking her to corral her bananas due to my extreme allergy) and things are settling down. I had a couple of weeks of crazy, which aren't quite over yet, but I'm getting there. I've been working out and eating WAY too much Top Ramen, which tastes REALLY GOOD if you leave out the flavor packet and add a little Soy Vey Teriyaki instead.
Had a GREAT birthday, even if I did end up in bed by 8:30. But, this happens when you're drunk by noon. The day was made up of many adventures and perfect parts that I wouldn't have changed. Like breakfast with HM and picnic lunch under the trees with the girls. I am blessed in the people that I know.
I googly eyed just about everything that wouldn't be destroyed in the process. Did you know I have an Instagram account? If you ever want photos of my madness, look up gracenmotion (ginamonster was taken, as was soapgirl). There are a lot of pictures of googly eyes. and my dog.
Good times.
Tuesday, August 06, 2013
I can't win this game
If you know me at all, you know that I am not one of those fashion conscious sorts. I think about it, but typically decide that the current trends are too expensive, OR better suited to a 12 year old.
With the advent of Pinterest, however, I get so see all sorts of outfits that I would wear if I had the money to buy them. In the meantime, at work I wear work appropriate, at home, it's jeans and tee shirts.
The other night, I was advised not to roll my pants. You see, I am too tall for "short" pants and too short for "regular" so sometimes my pants are a little long. I HATE walking on my pants so I will roll them up once to keep them off the floor. I am admittedly too cheap and lazy for hems, but appreciative of the occasional fashion advice.
Today I was thinking that I would like to upgrade my look which means shopping at places like Banana Republic instead of Wal*Mart and Target. I'm okay with this, I need to start dressing like a grown up instead of a street urchin in hand me downs. I FEEL BETTER about myself when I look good.
I went to the BR website, and then to the Gap where it turns out that current style dictates that I should be rolling up my pants.
Nice.
With the advent of Pinterest, however, I get so see all sorts of outfits that I would wear if I had the money to buy them. In the meantime, at work I wear work appropriate, at home, it's jeans and tee shirts.
The other night, I was advised not to roll my pants. You see, I am too tall for "short" pants and too short for "regular" so sometimes my pants are a little long. I HATE walking on my pants so I will roll them up once to keep them off the floor. I am admittedly too cheap and lazy for hems, but appreciative of the occasional fashion advice.
Today I was thinking that I would like to upgrade my look which means shopping at places like Banana Republic instead of Wal*Mart and Target. I'm okay with this, I need to start dressing like a grown up instead of a street urchin in hand me downs. I FEEL BETTER about myself when I look good.
I went to the BR website, and then to the Gap where it turns out that current style dictates that I should be rolling up my pants.
Nice.
Monday, August 05, 2013
Where I'm at
I'm in a funny spot, overall.
In many ways, things are just fine. No real complaints. I'm a complainer, so I will always have SOME sort of complaint. But nothing that is really solid. Things are pretty darn good.
But jobwise, I need to start looking at where I want to be in 5 years. I haven't really done that before. Actually, I've been just allowing life to happen because it seems like every time I make a plan, it gets derailed.
It's been awhile since things have gone upside down and I am feeling confident that they will remain even keel. I have a more settled lifestyle than I did before. I make different decisions.
Bubbly Creations will always remain plan A. And I am fired up these days to make a go of it. Work harder and smarter on marketing and other places that I tend to ignore. I'm also finally ready to start leveraging the assistance of the people who have been offering it over the last 8 years. If I want to be successful, I need to use my tools. And I can't keep trying to do it on my own.
Plan B? I don't know yet. I know that BC is not going to sustain me or to get me ahead soon enough for me to do it full time until all that work I should have started years ago flowers. That might take a year or two. In the mean time, I still have a mortgage and credit cards to pay and a lifestyle to maintain. Even simple lifestyles cost money.
So I will start working on Plan B too. Where do I want to be in 5 years? I'm not sure. But it's not where I am at. There's nothing wrong with my job, I am grateful for it, but I know I am capable of more. So much more. So my plan is to look at the opportunities at the company where I work and see what is available. To choose one and make a conscious effort at getting to that level, whatever that level might be. I have ideas about where I DON'T want to be, but until I know what else I want to do, I can't move forward.
I've never done that before. I've always gone elsewhere when I needed to better my position. It's possible that I will need to do just that. Moving companies though, that means starting over. Getting to know a new group of people. Proving my worth all over. Waiting for medical coverage and vacation days. Also, it feels like when I move companies I take a step back in many ways. I don't want to take any more steps back. Forward.
Forward so that I can do things like put a new roof on the house. Fix the fence. Landscape? Oh landscaping would be lovely. 5 years, make my house a better one and buy something new(er). Something with built in sprinklers and maybe air conditioning. Rent out the Elfin Cottage to a little family starting out and not sweat including the refrigerator and washer/dryer set in the rent. Make sure they have a good water heater since the one in the house now was purchased at a store that went out of business close to 20 years ago. Have the money in the bank that will cover a new dishwasher if they need it or anything else that might go sideways. I've been told that the number to hit is $10,000. I'm partway there.
Forward so that I can take a vacation once in awhile. A friend of mine is going to Thailand in October. I could go, but it would empty my savings account. Worth it for the experience, but not for the stress of losing my cushion. Also, that would put me behind in the goal I set out above.
Forward. In 5 years I'll be 41. I don't feel that old. It's not old. But life keeps moving even if I don't want to. I have to move with it. And that's where I'm at. Today.
In many ways, things are just fine. No real complaints. I'm a complainer, so I will always have SOME sort of complaint. But nothing that is really solid. Things are pretty darn good.
But jobwise, I need to start looking at where I want to be in 5 years. I haven't really done that before. Actually, I've been just allowing life to happen because it seems like every time I make a plan, it gets derailed.
It's been awhile since things have gone upside down and I am feeling confident that they will remain even keel. I have a more settled lifestyle than I did before. I make different decisions.
Bubbly Creations will always remain plan A. And I am fired up these days to make a go of it. Work harder and smarter on marketing and other places that I tend to ignore. I'm also finally ready to start leveraging the assistance of the people who have been offering it over the last 8 years. If I want to be successful, I need to use my tools. And I can't keep trying to do it on my own.
Plan B? I don't know yet. I know that BC is not going to sustain me or to get me ahead soon enough for me to do it full time until all that work I should have started years ago flowers. That might take a year or two. In the mean time, I still have a mortgage and credit cards to pay and a lifestyle to maintain. Even simple lifestyles cost money.
So I will start working on Plan B too. Where do I want to be in 5 years? I'm not sure. But it's not where I am at. There's nothing wrong with my job, I am grateful for it, but I know I am capable of more. So much more. So my plan is to look at the opportunities at the company where I work and see what is available. To choose one and make a conscious effort at getting to that level, whatever that level might be. I have ideas about where I DON'T want to be, but until I know what else I want to do, I can't move forward.
I've never done that before. I've always gone elsewhere when I needed to better my position. It's possible that I will need to do just that. Moving companies though, that means starting over. Getting to know a new group of people. Proving my worth all over. Waiting for medical coverage and vacation days. Also, it feels like when I move companies I take a step back in many ways. I don't want to take any more steps back. Forward.
Forward so that I can do things like put a new roof on the house. Fix the fence. Landscape? Oh landscaping would be lovely. 5 years, make my house a better one and buy something new(er). Something with built in sprinklers and maybe air conditioning. Rent out the Elfin Cottage to a little family starting out and not sweat including the refrigerator and washer/dryer set in the rent. Make sure they have a good water heater since the one in the house now was purchased at a store that went out of business close to 20 years ago. Have the money in the bank that will cover a new dishwasher if they need it or anything else that might go sideways. I've been told that the number to hit is $10,000. I'm partway there.
Forward so that I can take a vacation once in awhile. A friend of mine is going to Thailand in October. I could go, but it would empty my savings account. Worth it for the experience, but not for the stress of losing my cushion. Also, that would put me behind in the goal I set out above.
Forward. In 5 years I'll be 41. I don't feel that old. It's not old. But life keeps moving even if I don't want to. I have to move with it. And that's where I'm at. Today.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Of all the habits for a ghost to have
I was sitting in my living room the other night, watching Bones, of course, when I was overtaken by an odor. The front door and windows were closed.
Suddenly, my house smelled like pot.
I'm certain that at some point in the past, I have ranted about how much I dislike the drug and the smell of the drug and anything that has to do with the drug.
You can speak to me all day long of medicinal properties, and while I will admit there likely are many, I still don't like it. Yuo aren't going to change my mind. This is a lifelong hatred with many levels of reasoning behind it and quite frankly, I don't think I need to fix it, I'm fine with hating pot.
I went outside, and sure enough, there was an odor out there too, so it's very likely that the smell came in through the back door, which is actually close to the front of my house.
Which means that either someone was smoking pot close enough to my house that I could smell it at my front and back doors and along the path in between (without me hearing footsteps or alerting the dog) OR my ghost has a very unwelcome habit.
Suddenly, my house smelled like pot.
I'm certain that at some point in the past, I have ranted about how much I dislike the drug and the smell of the drug and anything that has to do with the drug.
You can speak to me all day long of medicinal properties, and while I will admit there likely are many, I still don't like it. Yuo aren't going to change my mind. This is a lifelong hatred with many levels of reasoning behind it and quite frankly, I don't think I need to fix it, I'm fine with hating pot.
I went outside, and sure enough, there was an odor out there too, so it's very likely that the smell came in through the back door, which is actually close to the front of my house.
Which means that either someone was smoking pot close enough to my house that I could smell it at my front and back doors and along the path in between (without me hearing footsteps or alerting the dog) OR my ghost has a very unwelcome habit.
Saturday, July 20, 2013
They just don't get it
I have a friend who is frightened of clowns. I don't mean that she doesn't like them, or even that she hates them, I don't mean that she would rather not meet one in a dark alley.
I'm saying that the mere sight of a clown will cause possibly-pee-your-pants paralysis.
I would hate to see what would happen if she DID meet one in a dark alley, but suffice to say, she's extremely healthy and would probably survive the massive coronary. Probably.
In the 5 years that I have known her, I have tried my best to protect her from the clowns. They are everywhere. I have learned to scope out the garage sales before she gets out of the car so that I can tell her where not to look until I can turn pictures around or hide dolls. We don't go to the circus. No haunted house at Halloween (the year we worked at one, we knew where the clown was and she was mostly able to avoid it) Parades are a frightening ordeal. In fact, she put on the next parade application that we need to be as far away from clowns as possible because we were RIGHT BEHIND them last time and she almost had to leave.
I'm one of the few people who gets it.
Most people are assholes.
Here's the thing. It's one thing to know someone doesn't like something. It's a whole other thing to intentionally expose them to that thing. And when the thing in question is an outright phobia? It's downright cruel.
I've seen scary clown stickers left on her car windshield. The kind with brightly colored noses and long pointy teeth placed in a manner in which she cannot help but view it upon sitting down in her car. I've been there when people have sent text messages with clown photo attachments. They get posted to her facebook wall, emailed, you name it, people have made sure that she has exposure in every creative manner you can imagine.
Clearly they haven't seen her crouched in fear behind a pickup truck trying to avoid visual contact. Clearly they have not witnessed the reactions, the frozen fear, the sudden intake of breath.
Imagine people exposing you constantly and intentionally to the one thing that terrifies you most.
People don't get it. People can be assholes. I expect this sort of behavoir from children who have not yet learned that other people are people with thoughts and feelings too, but not out of adults. Especially adults who like you.
This is not a woman who offends easily. The things she jokes about would make a porn writer blush. She loves a good prank and can take a joke.
I don't think this is a laughing matter. As I pointed out to her last night:
Would you put a clausterphobic in a coffin?
I didn't think so.
I'm saying that the mere sight of a clown will cause possibly-pee-your-pants paralysis.
I would hate to see what would happen if she DID meet one in a dark alley, but suffice to say, she's extremely healthy and would probably survive the massive coronary. Probably.
In the 5 years that I have known her, I have tried my best to protect her from the clowns. They are everywhere. I have learned to scope out the garage sales before she gets out of the car so that I can tell her where not to look until I can turn pictures around or hide dolls. We don't go to the circus. No haunted house at Halloween (the year we worked at one, we knew where the clown was and she was mostly able to avoid it) Parades are a frightening ordeal. In fact, she put on the next parade application that we need to be as far away from clowns as possible because we were RIGHT BEHIND them last time and she almost had to leave.
I'm one of the few people who gets it.
Most people are assholes.
Here's the thing. It's one thing to know someone doesn't like something. It's a whole other thing to intentionally expose them to that thing. And when the thing in question is an outright phobia? It's downright cruel.
I've seen scary clown stickers left on her car windshield. The kind with brightly colored noses and long pointy teeth placed in a manner in which she cannot help but view it upon sitting down in her car. I've been there when people have sent text messages with clown photo attachments. They get posted to her facebook wall, emailed, you name it, people have made sure that she has exposure in every creative manner you can imagine.
Clearly they haven't seen her crouched in fear behind a pickup truck trying to avoid visual contact. Clearly they have not witnessed the reactions, the frozen fear, the sudden intake of breath.
Imagine people exposing you constantly and intentionally to the one thing that terrifies you most.
People don't get it. People can be assholes. I expect this sort of behavoir from children who have not yet learned that other people are people with thoughts and feelings too, but not out of adults. Especially adults who like you.
This is not a woman who offends easily. The things she jokes about would make a porn writer blush. She loves a good prank and can take a joke.
I don't think this is a laughing matter. As I pointed out to her last night:
Would you put a clausterphobic in a coffin?
I didn't think so.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
A few possibilites
Back to that whole ghostie thing. I have come to a few conclusions regarding the ghost in my house. These conclusions are formed based on a couple of different incidents.
In incident (1), there is a plastic grocery bag on my studio floor containing old sheets for repurposing, and a pair of antique rosewood knitting needles, which I have not put away yet. The needles are sticking out of the top of the bag pointed to the right. One day, I run into said bag and say, out loud, that I really need to put that stuff away before I break those lovely needles that Lin was so kind as to give to me. I do love the rosewood needles.
A few days later, I notice that the bag is turned around to that the needles point to the left and cannot poke me again.
In incident (2), it should be noted that not long after I moved in, I found the letters "x" and "y" in my linen closet. The letters are made of foam and stick to the bathtub tiles. The previous owners of my house had a little boy who, it seems, is not playing with a complete alphabet. After finding the letters, I stuck them to my bathroom wall where they have stayed for the last 3 1/2 years, falling down on occasion, but generally they stick for a couple of months.
Until after the roommate moved out. Now they stick for a day or two, I pick them up, stick them to the wall, and continue with my shower. I'm thinking that it's been really dry lately.
Last night I got in the shower and noticed that the letters were not on the wall, not in the tub, but stacked neatly on the shelf where I keep my shampoo.
in conclusion:
I'll let you decide.
In incident (1), there is a plastic grocery bag on my studio floor containing old sheets for repurposing, and a pair of antique rosewood knitting needles, which I have not put away yet. The needles are sticking out of the top of the bag pointed to the right. One day, I run into said bag and say, out loud, that I really need to put that stuff away before I break those lovely needles that Lin was so kind as to give to me. I do love the rosewood needles.
A few days later, I notice that the bag is turned around to that the needles point to the left and cannot poke me again.
In incident (2), it should be noted that not long after I moved in, I found the letters "x" and "y" in my linen closet. The letters are made of foam and stick to the bathtub tiles. The previous owners of my house had a little boy who, it seems, is not playing with a complete alphabet. After finding the letters, I stuck them to my bathroom wall where they have stayed for the last 3 1/2 years, falling down on occasion, but generally they stick for a couple of months.
Until after the roommate moved out. Now they stick for a day or two, I pick them up, stick them to the wall, and continue with my shower. I'm thinking that it's been really dry lately.
Last night I got in the shower and noticed that the letters were not on the wall, not in the tub, but stacked neatly on the shelf where I keep my shampoo.
in conclusion:
- Someone is sneaking into my house, frightening my roommate, then keeping things tidy after he left. OR
- I am keeping things tidy and then forgetting that I did those things so completely that I have no idea I even did them. In which case, why didn't I walk 3 feet to put the knitting needles away? And why didn't I stick the letters to the wall like I have been doing for so long? OR
- I have a very considerate ghost.
I'll let you decide.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Dear Lady on the Freeway behind me this morning
Hi. It's the Soapgirl in front of you. Please note a couple of things before I begin.
First, the sticker on my back windshield will likely give you the impression that I am involved with The Reno Roller Girls. This is true. It means that I like to skate. And I like to skate fast. So I'm not really going slow to piss you off.
Second, I drive a12 13 year old 4 banger. This means that although I like to skate fast, and I also like to DRIVE fast, sometimes it takes my little jalopy a bit of time to get there. Especially when there is a slight incline. yes. Slight. My Honey has never liked hills, even when she was a new jalopy.
As we moved out of the traffic at what is known around here as the Spaghetti Bowl where, not far from the interchange there were at least two accidents, I noticed that you were riding my butt. Wow. You were close. My speedometer said just less than 65, but I was working on accellerating. I would have accellerated sooner, but, there was traffice stopped on the freeway which means I proceeded with caution. And boy, you were riding my butt. I didn't move over.
I wanted to move over to get out of your way, but you see, I learned in High School Physics that matter cannot occupy the same place at the same time. I think that's Newton's first law of dumbass or something, which, I'm guessing you didn't learn because you were doing your best to meld with my car. I will be a little crass and tell you that my car doesn't like to take it in the rear.
As soon as I passed the semi truck on my right (putting plenty of distance between us so that I didn't cut him off), I put on my blinker, checked my review (oh my! you are even closer!), checked my sideviews, and then checked over my right shoulder because my darling car has lots and lots of marvelous blindspots and I want to live a very long time.
Then I started to move over so that you could go on your merry way. BUT WAIT! This was not fast enough because by the time I started moving over, you sped up and got over to the right and started to overtake me.
Thankfully I saw you and swerved back into my lane and also got to see you give me a dirty look as you passed me up. If I hadn't swerved suddenly to the left, your left front fender would have been hit by my right rear quarter panel resulting in a pretty ugly accident that we both would have been lucky to have survived given the velosity and the angle of impact which likely would have put me in a spin and given my high center of gravity, maybe a flip, which would have REALLY sucked because we were on an overpass.
Did we hypothetically live??
No we didn't. Because at freeway speeds, there is no way that semi truck would have avoided hitting our cars had we avoided going over the railing. On a two lane overpass, even if one of us was in each lane, someone would have been hit by that semi. And maybe, because those things are WAY more delicate than they show in the Cannonball movies, he might have jackknifed.
As you drove off, weaving through traffic, I hoped that wherever you were going was worth your life and possibly someone else's, because by the time you left me in the dust, I was going about 70 mph and you were passing everyone else, which puts you at 90 to 100 mph.
Just wanted to bring it to your attention that your extreme driving techniques nearly killed me and maybe you.
You're welcome for the physics lesson, asshole.
First, the sticker on my back windshield will likely give you the impression that I am involved with The Reno Roller Girls. This is true. It means that I like to skate. And I like to skate fast. So I'm not really going slow to piss you off.
Second, I drive a
As we moved out of the traffic at what is known around here as the Spaghetti Bowl where, not far from the interchange there were at least two accidents, I noticed that you were riding my butt. Wow. You were close. My speedometer said just less than 65, but I was working on accellerating. I would have accellerated sooner, but, there was traffice stopped on the freeway which means I proceeded with caution. And boy, you were riding my butt. I didn't move over.
I wanted to move over to get out of your way, but you see, I learned in High School Physics that matter cannot occupy the same place at the same time. I think that's Newton's first law of dumbass or something, which, I'm guessing you didn't learn because you were doing your best to meld with my car. I will be a little crass and tell you that my car doesn't like to take it in the rear.
As soon as I passed the semi truck on my right (putting plenty of distance between us so that I didn't cut him off), I put on my blinker, checked my review (oh my! you are even closer!), checked my sideviews, and then checked over my right shoulder because my darling car has lots and lots of marvelous blindspots and I want to live a very long time.
Then I started to move over so that you could go on your merry way. BUT WAIT! This was not fast enough because by the time I started moving over, you sped up and got over to the right and started to overtake me.
Thankfully I saw you and swerved back into my lane and also got to see you give me a dirty look as you passed me up. If I hadn't swerved suddenly to the left, your left front fender would have been hit by my right rear quarter panel resulting in a pretty ugly accident that we both would have been lucky to have survived given the velosity and the angle of impact which likely would have put me in a spin and given my high center of gravity, maybe a flip, which would have REALLY sucked because we were on an overpass.
Did we hypothetically live??
No we didn't. Because at freeway speeds, there is no way that semi truck would have avoided hitting our cars had we avoided going over the railing. On a two lane overpass, even if one of us was in each lane, someone would have been hit by that semi. And maybe, because those things are WAY more delicate than they show in the Cannonball movies, he might have jackknifed.
As you drove off, weaving through traffic, I hoped that wherever you were going was worth your life and possibly someone else's, because by the time you left me in the dust, I was going about 70 mph and you were passing everyone else, which puts you at 90 to 100 mph.
Just wanted to bring it to your attention that your extreme driving techniques nearly killed me and maybe you.
You're welcome for the physics lesson, asshole.
Monday, July 08, 2013
A long, long holiday
I did put on sunscreen, but the thing is, alpine sun and lowlander sun are very different. I can spend a week in Vegas in the sunshine and be fine. 2 hours on the shores of Lake Tahoe and I'm a little Tahoe Lobster. But not the edible kind. I need to work on that. It doesn't take much to get a sunburn around here. I don't want skin cancer. Or wrinkles.
Chango and I had fun though. He was a champ with the fireworks, crawling under my chair and being generally happy as long as I was touching him. If I didn't, he nudged my butt until I reached down to let him know he was safe. He enjoyed lots of attention and a quick run on the beach, and I discovered that he's a total kid magnet. And a shade hog.
We went home fairly early, so I had plenty of time to go hang out with HM on the 4th. From my house, even though I am only a mile from the fireworks, you can't see them because there is a tree in the way. From his upstairs window, we had a clear view. So we listened to patriotic music and then some Dropkick Murphys when that failed, and learned that we both like the kind of fireworks that are sparkly everywhere, although, I have to say, I've grown quite fond of the ones that look like Sideshow Bob's hair. Because they look like Sideshow Bob's hair.
It was a good holiday. A good weekend. Hope yours was good and safe as well.
Friday, July 05, 2013
Regarding Roomates
Although my friends and family heard plenty about what was happening with the great roommate experiment (part duex), I didn't talk about it here because I didn't want to bitch and complain and then have him find my blog, and get his feelings hurt over things he may or may not have been able to control.
What I learned was, I don't live well with others. At least not based on my last two roommate situations. When I think back, I did okay with most of my roommates over the years. If anything, I understand now that I was the asshole with my clutter and cats. But as far as situations go, the roommates were pretty good and I enjoyed having them around.
That was what? 10 years ago? 10 years (nearly) since Girl and Boy Roomie in the house with the goat. We had fun.
This time? I learned that I don't do well with other people in my space. Every little thing was an annoyance and when the roommate would do something really nice? I would feel kindly towards him for a couple of days until there was a drip of soap on the counter or something minor like that.
He moved out yesterday. Not because I kicked him out, and I don't think I was mean, but because he couldn't find work, so returned to Mississippi. Actually, he was in Eastern AZ last time I checked and is likely in New Mexico now.
I will miss the extra dollars. I did my best not to slip into old habits, but also spent more than I should have over the last couple of months. On the bright side, my car is running like fantastic and I paid for it with cash. I also got out of my new good habits so my refrigerator tends to be a little, well, bare. I think with focus I can get back to where I was.
I'm not planning to get another roommate. It's tempting, but why, when I was just irritated all the time?
I wish him the best and suspect I will send holiday cards and such. It's going to take a lot longer to pay off the credit cards than it would have with someone in the house, but I think I can live with that for the peace of having my house to myself.
I wonder too, what I will do someday if there is an offer cohabitation with someone I'm into. I suspect it will be a bit different. We forgive those we love things that we don't accept of others. I don't worry about that too much though. That sort of situation is not even on the radar.
What I learned was, I don't live well with others. At least not based on my last two roommate situations. When I think back, I did okay with most of my roommates over the years. If anything, I understand now that I was the asshole with my clutter and cats. But as far as situations go, the roommates were pretty good and I enjoyed having them around.
That was what? 10 years ago? 10 years (nearly) since Girl and Boy Roomie in the house with the goat. We had fun.
This time? I learned that I don't do well with other people in my space. Every little thing was an annoyance and when the roommate would do something really nice? I would feel kindly towards him for a couple of days until there was a drip of soap on the counter or something minor like that.
He moved out yesterday. Not because I kicked him out, and I don't think I was mean, but because he couldn't find work, so returned to Mississippi. Actually, he was in Eastern AZ last time I checked and is likely in New Mexico now.
I will miss the extra dollars. I did my best not to slip into old habits, but also spent more than I should have over the last couple of months. On the bright side, my car is running like fantastic and I paid for it with cash. I also got out of my new good habits so my refrigerator tends to be a little, well, bare. I think with focus I can get back to where I was.
I'm not planning to get another roommate. It's tempting, but why, when I was just irritated all the time?
I wish him the best and suspect I will send holiday cards and such. It's going to take a lot longer to pay off the credit cards than it would have with someone in the house, but I think I can live with that for the peace of having my house to myself.
I wonder too, what I will do someday if there is an offer cohabitation with someone I'm into. I suspect it will be a bit different. We forgive those we love things that we don't accept of others. I don't worry about that too much though. That sort of situation is not even on the radar.
Wednesday, July 03, 2013
I suck at the regular updates
Really the most of what has been going on is nothing too exciting. And Roomate. And seeing that guy I see sometimes more often so I shall refer to him as Handsome Man (HM) on the rare occasion that I mention him in passing.
BUT I did have to share this cube conversation with you...
B: MMM Raley's Pizza for dinner
Me: I think we are having Steamers (Steamers is a pizza place at King's Beach in Tahoe)
B: Cleveland Steamers?
Me: Eew. No.
and then the giggles began. because we're 12.
BUT I did have to share this cube conversation with you...
B: MMM Raley's Pizza for dinner
Me: I think we are having Steamers (Steamers is a pizza place at King's Beach in Tahoe)
B: Cleveland Steamers?
Me: Eew. No.
and then the giggles began. because we're 12.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Aw, Man! Quit posting all that crap!
If you are a Facebook user, and I am, you've noticed that there are several different types of people on Facebook. There are the ones that lurk, the ones that post on occasion, the ones that put their whole life out there and the ones who do very little else but repost the memes and jokes, banners and pictures that someone else already posted.
There are a couple of other types, but lets not get complicated.
I use facebook (to play candy crush) to keep up on the happenings of the people in my life. I love the personal stories, pictures, the life updates. I enjoy the occasional article shared with thought. What I don't love is all the political and religious stuff posted over and over. My politics and relationship with the almighty is personal. I don't need to hear about yours. It used to be that you didn't discuss politics and religion because you didn't know who you were going to offend. Now it seems that any platform is a good platform for evangelism.
I have blocked the photos of many friends and family for this, which is sad because I don't get the updates they send out their lives or pictures of their children. I learned recently, that if I can't see them, they can't see me. In some cases I'm okay with that.
I have one friend with a child with Autism. Actually, I have many friends with children who have Autism. It's frightening. But this friend is always posting memes about how wonderful her boy is, how special, how we need to understand Autistic children because they are special.
And they are.
But I was starting to get a little annoyed. Until I was reading the comments on this post. The post itself is poignant and heartfelt. It talks, more than most people do, about some of the difficulties attached to raising a child who redefines normal. But one of the comments made me realize...
My friend, she isn't posting randomly, she's reaching out. She may not have the community of people that she needs. Like me, she has moved away from our home town, away from her mom and the friends that were her support system when her boy was born.
Suddenly, I'm not so annoyed anymore.
There are a couple of other types, but lets not get complicated.
I use facebook (to play candy crush) to keep up on the happenings of the people in my life. I love the personal stories, pictures, the life updates. I enjoy the occasional article shared with thought. What I don't love is all the political and religious stuff posted over and over. My politics and relationship with the almighty is personal. I don't need to hear about yours. It used to be that you didn't discuss politics and religion because you didn't know who you were going to offend. Now it seems that any platform is a good platform for evangelism.
I have blocked the photos of many friends and family for this, which is sad because I don't get the updates they send out their lives or pictures of their children. I learned recently, that if I can't see them, they can't see me. In some cases I'm okay with that.
I have one friend with a child with Autism. Actually, I have many friends with children who have Autism. It's frightening. But this friend is always posting memes about how wonderful her boy is, how special, how we need to understand Autistic children because they are special.
And they are.
But I was starting to get a little annoyed. Until I was reading the comments on this post. The post itself is poignant and heartfelt. It talks, more than most people do, about some of the difficulties attached to raising a child who redefines normal. But one of the comments made me realize...
My friend, she isn't posting randomly, she's reaching out. She may not have the community of people that she needs. Like me, she has moved away from our home town, away from her mom and the friends that were her support system when her boy was born.
Suddenly, I'm not so annoyed anymore.
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