Today I got home an hour early from work. My new boss decided that if she got to leave early, we all did. It was a nice gesture, particularly because I ran out of work to do at ten this morning.
Jason ran to the store to get some bread for dinner. While he was gone, the doorbell rang. I opened it, and a small Mexican man with an insulated lunch box greeted me.
“Would you like some tamales?”
“No, thank you.”
And he smiled and walked away.
I did not know this was a weekly occurrence until Jason came home and asked me if the tamale man had come by.
“He comes by a lot?”
“Yeah, every Friday. You’re never here when he stops by.”
I expressed delight in this door-to-door tamale service because I had never had a tamale, and what could be more authentic than buying them from the tiny Mexican man with an insulated lunch box? Also, why had my dear husband never told me about the tamale man before? This whole time we’ve been cooking on Friday when we could have just eaten tamales? What is wrong with him? I hope the small man comes by next week and I hope that Jason remembers to buy some tamales for us so we can try new things. I’m all for trying new things. Especially if it gets me out of cooking.
Filed under: random
Last week was my Week From Hell, and this week has been going a lot better. For that I am grateful. In fact, today I had a very good day at work which hasn’t happened in, I don’t know, months. I got all of my work done. I have an hour left of work right now and I’m typing up a blog post. Sure, I would do that when I had work to do, but it feels good knowing that I’m not slacking but actually all caught up.
I have been married for roughly four months and so far I have noticed no difference in our day to day routine now that we are married. I do not think these first few months of marriage have been any harder than when we were not married. Also I do not buy the notion of a honeymoon period. Those are my thoughts on that subject.
Lately I have been all about pizza. As some of you may remember, I worked at a popular pizza chain for three months to fund my move to Oregon. Up until a few months ago, eating pizza was not an experience I ever wanted to go through again. The thought of pizza made me nauseated: the dough, the toppings, the hot and melty cheese did not seem appetizing. In the past week I’ve eaten pizza three times. What happened? I have no idea. It’s all I want to eat.
One of my new year’s resolutions was to not chop off my hair. I got it trimmed and re-colored in February but have done my hardest to resist hacking it off near my ears. Since I have succeeded in this endeavor, the hair is kind of long(ish) (for me) and I now find long brown hairs everywhere: in my bed, in the car, on my clothes and once in my coffee cup while I was eating oatmeal. I didn’t mind much because it was early in the morning and I had just washed it. I have never been more aware of my hair than I am right now.
A quick rant about the entertainment industry: I saw the trailer for Where The Wild Things Are and yes, it looks very great. But why must it be made into a movie? Is Hollywood so low on ideas that they must capitalize on beloved childhood favorites? Maybe that’s why the Twilight series was such a hit: someone finally had an imagination and told a good story. I’m not so much a fan of the books, but it got people to read again, something that hadn’t been done since Harry Potter. But then both of those books became movies, and while they were very financially successful, it really made me rethink the movie industry. I’m glad that there are people out there who are able to recreate a story in an innovative idea and still retain important aspects of the books, and if stories are good then they are just plain good and those that don’t read or don’t like to read shouldn’t have to miss out on them just because the story happens to be printed. But it seems like mostly a) the authors are the ones with the creative juices and movie execs commercialize their imaginations and b) books aren’t made into movies until they are popular. Those are my thoughts on the subject.
This weekend we:
1) Went to Bruno’s, a pizza place in town that was excellent. As I was eating I couldn’t believe I’d never eaten there before, and when we left I wondered when I could go back. Delicious.
2) Saw I Love You, Man which was laugh-out-loud funny in quite a lot of instances. I recommend it if you enjoyed Forgetting Sarah Marshall or Superbad.
3) Had lunch with some friends on Sunday afternoon.
4) Spent Saturday afternoon watching Twilight and yes, it was good. Better than the books, I think.
Last night we watched P.S. I Love You and holy shit, I cried for 3/4 of the movie. I also realized that it’s very important that Jason never leave me or die before I do. I made that very clear about 15 times during the movie by leaning over and hugging him and wailing “DON’T LEAVE ME ALONE IN THIS COLD AND LONELY WORLD I DON’T KNOW HOW TO MAKE SHOES I WILL NEVER SURVIVE!” and he said “Okay, sure” and turned his attention back to Hilary Swank’s midsection. He is so comforting in times of my melodrama, lemme tell you.
Weight Watchers is going well. I’ve decided that I’m going to add a link on my sidebar chronicling the weight I lose because a) interested people can read it and those who don’t really give a crap will not be forced to sit through yet another girl’s plight with weight loss and b) it’s nice to keep a record.
You know those people who start to look like their spouses/pets/cars? I think I have a little of that going on, except instead of looking like Jason I have picked up his blogging habits (meaning: never ever doing it). Which is kind of unfortunate, really. Because blogging is fun. But between twitter and facebook I feel like I have shared enough of my life with the internet. Is there such a thing as overcommunication? If so, consider this my overcommunication.
Filed under: Uncategorized
I’ve always said that my self worth was not determined by numbers on a scale. I still stick by that mantra. There is no such thing as the perfect weight. There is healthy weight and unhealthy weight, and while those figures are indeed numbers, the need to live my life trying to maintain a certain number seems a little, well, stupid. Because weight fluctuates all the time. The same is said for the numbers noting the size of my jeans. I would rather look great in a size 10 than squeeze myself into a size eight because of some mental issue I have with accepting the fact that I need to wear a double-digit pant size.
I wouldn’t say that I’ve struggled with my weight my whole life. That would lead you to believe that I’ve actually tried to diet and failed. I haven’t. I’ve struggled with it for the past two years. Up and down and up and up and down a little and then up again. I went to a personal trainer for a while, losing a total of four pounds in four months. My inability to lose weight (or the fact that he was recommending the wrong kind of exercises) took it’s toll on our relationship. My trainer was frustrated because my weight wasn’t coming off, and I was frustrated that I was paying him and not seeing results even though I did what he told me to do. I eventually quit after he asked me if I was binge eating.
Since I’ve moved to Medford I’ve gained a considerable amount of weight. Why did I gain weight? Because I a) stopped exercising and b) I eat more calories than I burn. It’s as simple as that. There were other factors (the stress of moving 3,000 from home, for example), but the bottom line is that people tend to gain weight when they are in serious relationships because they feel comfortable. They are loved and that love is empowering and makes them feel secure with themselves. Also, who wants to go to the gym for an hour when it’s so much more fun to hang out with your spouse at home? It happened to me, just as it happens to many people.
I’m starting Weight Watchers this evening and I’m really excited about it. I’ve lost a little more than ten pounds by myself and that has given me the motivation to keep going. Yes, it’s a diet. But it’s not a restrictive diet, and the meetings are helpful in that they give you the tools to lose weight and choose a healthier lifestyle. It’s up to the attendee to accept or reject the tips offered. I’m telling you this not so you will congratulate me, but because I’ve found that accountability makes it easier to stick with something.
Jason has been so supportive since I told him I was thinking of joining WW two weeks ago. We had a long talk about it and he’s said multiple times that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to help me. Also it’s kind of a twofer. He has been wanting to lose weight as well, and if I’m pushing the healthy eating and exercising, he will be benefiting from the things that I learn. Because I’m a pushy broad and will make him eat salad. Not really.
Filed under: work
I took it really hard.
We weren’t particularly close. I mean, we had our laughs and she was a great confidant; she helped me with problems. She had been my boss for a year and a half, and she was a damn good one. She kept things professional. She was trustworthy and had amazing clothes (which doesn’t really have anything to do with her management style or personality, but I’m just throwing it out there). I appreciated that she understood me and valued the fact that I spoke my mind and wasn’t afraid to ask questions. In fact, that’s one of the things I got complimented on regularly.
The issue I had was that she was there from the beginning, as far as the accounts payable department goes. She was integral in getting that department off the ground, in seeing a seamless transition to consolidated operations. She was respected, loyal, and compassionate. She did not micromanage. She was not irritable, rude, or pushy. She made that department what it was, and instead of rewarding her for her efforts, she got laid off.
The question on everyone’s mind: what the fuck?
We were herded into the conference room and our fearless leader was noticeably absent. Her new boss told us in the typical candy-coated language of the corporate world that she had been let go but the company was headed in a new direction and they were optimistic and blah blah motherfucking blah. I doubt anyone was listening at that point.
I do not recall when I started crying, probably somewhere between “we’re in the process of restructuring…” and “if there are any questions or concerns….” But once I started, I could not stop. I was outraged that a company would do that to such a dedicated employee. Is that the benefit of being loyal? Is that the benefit of working 70 hours a week? Being laid off because of “restructuring”?
Right now I’m more settled. There’s nothing I can do about it. I wrote her a note telling her various things, and when I went into her office (she was going to be back later to clear it of personal belongings), I saw that I was not the only one to do so. It made me feel better, in a strange way, to know I was not the only one who couldn’t let her leave without letting her know how great she was. That’s the silver lining.
Filed under: Uncategorized
I have been a smoker since I was seventeen years old.
It is my own habit. Although my parents smoked, I listened in health class. I knew what would happen to my face, my hands, and my lungs if I smoked. I knew I would get a raspy voice and my hair would smell.
I did it anyway.
I hid it for a while, going so far as to not let my brother’s ex-girlfriend use the bathroom in my apartment because my roommate and I smoked in that apartment and he didn’t know I smoked yet. When the truth finally came out, my parents were disappointed, sure, but what could they say?
I have never smoked in front of my father. I never will.
I made the decision to quit smoking in a kind of lackluster way. I had been sick for a few days and when I am sick, I do not smoke. So I didn’t smoke on Saturday or Sunday and then on the way to work on Monday I didn’t take my cigarettes with me. I just didn’t feel like smoking. It didn’t feel so complicated to quit smoking – you just don’t smoke. But it’s hard. Smoking had been something that I had done for so long that it was ingrained into most everything I did. I drove, I smoked. Jason and I would sit on the front porch and I would smoke. It was a social thing as well. I never realized how social it was until I stopped doing it at work.
There have been some setbacks, sure. I bum a cigarette from a coworker when I am feeling particularly stressed, or I find a stray in my car (and by the decibel of my shout of glee you would have thought I found a chunk of pure gold). But I’m quitting because hello, it’s bad for you, and also because Jason and I are going to start having children soon(ish) (like in two years, which I guess is soon depending on who you are) and I’d much rather get this out of the way sooner than later. I tell you this not so you can offer support, but so I’ll have some accountability. Peer pressure is a bitch.
