Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Shit my mom says

Mom: "KC... Can you grab me the green chiles from the pantry?" 
Me: "...umm...there's only a small can of diced jalapeƱos.."
Mom: "Yeah. That's the same thing." 
Me: "I think you have a misunderstanding of what green chiles the recipe calls for..."

Mom: "Can you start dinner when you come over while I run to the grocery store? We're having balsamic chicken." 
Me: "Yeah, but I've never made it before." 
Me: "Do you seriously believe there is only ONE recipe ever published on the internet for balsamic glazed chicken?"
Mom: "Well that's where I found it so yeah."

[This happened at Sam's club where my mother was steering the cart around like a crazy person and blatantly not paying attention to where she was going... And had no regard for anything in her vicinity as we moved through the store...]
Me: "Mom... Mom... MOM!" 
Mom: "WHAT?!" 
Me: "Pay attention! You nearly knocked over that woman and her baby!"
Mom: "Well she was in my way."
Me: "No, she was looking at Capri Sun packs to pick up for her kids that you're about to run over next."

Sunday, August 17, 2014


The past four days I've spent in Santa Cruz to surprise one of my friends with her bachelorette party. It was pretty fantastic to say the least. It was a little stressful, but overall it went fantastically.

Three girls and I spent the past few months planning this trip, which included three nights in a house across the street from the beach, a bar hopping night with bachelorette scavenger hunt (get a piggyback ride from a stranger, buy another bride-to-be a drink, get a condom from a guy, stuff like that), a fancy-ish dress up dinner night, shopping in Capitola, beach bonfire with smores, the pantyhose oven mitt game, and lots of other fun shenanigans.

I also made a conscious effort to not talk to anyone that wasn't in the house with me; it's not often you get the chance to really get to know seven other girls and spend time away from regular life with them. I hardly talked to my parents (only twice to check on the puppy), and twice to my roommate (she went into mom mode and was checking up on me). Consciously putting out the effort to not talk to people is actually pretty difficult for me; I talk a lot. However, in doing so I realized a lot of things. The beach (as well as mountains) give me some peace. I can think more clearly and feel much more at ease when I'm in either of these places.

I'm still angry and still hurt and frustrated. Life happens and you learn from it and move on. You own up to your mistakes and don't make them twice. Things aren't fair and when you have good, amazing people right in front of you that are worth loving, just let yourself do it. If you don't, tell them so they can move on.

I'm feeling like I'm stuck in an emotional tug of war. It's not fair, and I can't find a way around it. I can't stop feeling what I feel, and it just hurts that what was once reciprocated isn't anymore. I'm so worth the time, and I'm worth the effort, and when I want to keep someone in my life, I make an effort to keep them in it.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

On the verge of a Crazy Ivan

There are a few things that really irk me... or get my chonies in a wad... or whatever expression you'd like to use. The list is short, but these things never fail. This list includes, but is not limited to (depending on the day), the following: 

  • Bird poop on a newly washed car
  • Finding out there are tiny bacon pieces in salads I'm attempting to eat but can't thanks to the bacon
  • When sound fails on Netflix
  • While we're on that topic... unexpectedly reaching the end of a series on Netflix when you thought you still had a few episodes left
  • Getting almost all the way to work before realizing I forgot something
  • When the bottoms of cups or bowls are indented and you splash water all over the other dried dishes when taking it out of the dishwasher
  • Missing tupperware lids
  • My need to check that the door is locked at least three times before I go to bed at night
  • When animals, dogs in particular, are treated poorly
and last but not least, because these are in no particular order... 
  • When other people talk about their lives as if their load is the heaviest to bear, and you don't know what it's like to work as hard.  

I realize these are all really first world problems, and I probably sound like I'd have a Venti soy something or other Starbucks cup burning my hand on top of all of this as well right now. Please note that this is not the case... because it's 10pm and I don't drink coffee this late... But tomorrow morning I do in fact have to change up my coffee with soy milk due to some recent changes. 

I feel the need to just vent tonight to be honest, so thank you in advance for watching these words spill out onto this blog in my frustration. 

Let's be honest- sometimes we all get caught up in life and have tunnel vision, seeing only what we have going on with work and family and home, paying little regard to what the rest of the world is up to. Due to this, these are the times when we tend to see the rough moments harder than anyone else's rough patches, and treat them as such. Sometimes we think that nobody else could possibly understand the insurmountable pile of crap we trudge to the top of every day, only to roll off it when we clock out and have to tackle it again the next day. We forget that other people have issues. We forget that we never truly know the battles other people are fighting, and assume things based off the external factors: refer back to the assumption of my holding a Starbucks coffee.

I'm absolutely a culprit of this. I've caught myself feeling like other people's crap and hardships aren't nearly as intense or heavy or important as mine. It's a temporary thought, because every time I catch myself almost immediately (thanks to growing up with "Catholic Guilt"). Tables have been turned recently, and I feel like I have to keep reminding some people that their troubles, misfortunes, adversities, whatever they may be, are legitimate, but that does not mean they are more important than mine. They don't make the way I feel and what I have to deal with on a daily basis any less valid or warranted. I work 40+ hour work weeks, too. I pay rent and take care of bills, too. I clean the house, help my parents, help my friends, run errands, clean the bathroom, do laundry, empty the dishwasher, cook, take my dog for runs, just like everyone else. On top of that, there are additional issues that have more gravity, like my work environment situation, or how my mom is fed up with my dad, or how some nights I just stay awake trying to figure out how to stop crying. 

Those things don't hold less value than your things. They're equal, just different.  

Sunday, August 10, 2014


We had one of a few supermoons of the summer happen tonight, and to say it was hauntingly beautiful would be one of the biggest understatements I've made. It also happens to be my birthday, which made it the best birthday gift I received aside from the flowers and nifty high-heeled tape dispenser from my brother. He gets me. 

...AND Shark Week started tonight... AND it's national s'mores day....soooo I guess I AM kind of winning for once.  

I try to spend as much of my day, every day, being grateful for what I have, and sometimes for what I don't have. I know I could be a lot worse off, and I know that every day for the past twenty-something years I'm lucky to be alive thanks to my mom saving my life. I'm grateful that my dad went out of his way to run to Starbucks and buy me a latte this morning, and I'm grateful that my mom bought me new jeans yesterday as part of my birthday present. I'm grateful that my brother used his newly acquired driver's license to not only drive himself to the gym today instead of asking for a ride, but to stop by the supermarket on his way home and buy me flowers, especially since he picked out Gerbera daisies instead of roses. I'm grateful for the voicemails my friends left me saying happy birthday, and I'm grateful for all of the Facebook "love" I get from people even if it's the one time during the whole year they say anything to me at all. I'm grateful for the picture of the beautiful beach my sister sent me this morning during her run, and for everything at all. 

That being said, I'm having a very hard time shaking this feeling that I'm going to fall apart. I'm not quite sure what to do, and I wish there was a rulebook or some kind of user's manual for this life thing. I guess you get to a point in your life when you realize that nothing exciting is ever going to happen to you. I think that is the part I'm having a hard time with. 

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Adding it to The List


Tuesday, July 29, 2014

The Promotional Possibility

My bedroom looked like the workroom of Fashion Runway by the time I was ready to leave for work this morning. I've been so exhausted lately that the thought of planning an outfit for my interview the next day at 8pm feels monumental. Instead, I opted to wait until after showering and full-on styling my hair at 4am. Not the brightest idea, so let's all just take a moment to be grateful for maxi dresses and cardigans....... AMEN. 

My interview wasn't until noon today, which is usually when I take my lunch break and walk with Kimber (by the way, that's her alias because she likes that name). We're flexible so we took a quick walk around 10 before I met with my mentor aka "Work Dad". Kimber is about 16 weeks pregnant, so I'm really loving hearing about all of her crazy dreams (that have been par with mine). I met with my mentor/Work Dad shortly after and we reviewed some hit points that I'd need to be sure to include, and he planned on casually running into the hiring manager conducting the interviews (before the reference check, which we're all assuming I'm going to receive). Still nervous, I endured the next hour while we met our new supervisor. This was also the hour that my current supervisor (basically filling in until we got a real one) got my name wrong... after working with me for five years. Yeah, thanks for that. It makes me really believe the bullshit spewing out of your mouth about how wonderful you think I am. How about getting my name right first? 

Finally I made my way down to the secured area in which the interviews were being conducted. The proctor was pretty nice; I'd recognized him from when he was hired about a year and a half ago. This was good news: by him proctoring and being the same classification as I am, I knew he wasn't going for the promotion on his own team. One less person to compete with. It's much harder to compete with someone who's actually doing the job already. This is where the fun begins... 

I'm escorted through a maze of workstations, to a secluded back area next to a locked door and some offices. I sat at the empty workstation as directed, while business proceeded as usual all around me. I was given twenty minutes to respond to a prompt for a written assignment. I'd already submitted a supplemental application when I turned in my application, and figured those two pages would cover the majority of any outstanding questions. Apparently I was wrong. Hastily, I wrote my name at the top corner and began my introductory paragraph. The following paragraph displayed my awesome confidentiality skills and customer service experience, followed up by my coordination with external vendors and contract negotiations. The last paragraph went on to further show off my awesomeness and I wrapped that sucker up with a nice "I'm your best choice" bow. Okay, I didn't actually write that sentence. It was implied.

Oh, wait, did I mention the distraction trifecta? While I'm compiling my thoughts into what I need to be one of the best essays ever, there are people coming from and going to lunch badging in the door next to me. Around the corner was a Legal Rep in his office with the door open listening to his 14 new voicemails on speakerphone. Why? Because who cares, that's why. On the other side of me was a middle aged man in his cubicle watching a rerun of the price is right sandwiched with infomercials on the breaks, giggling and belching. Yes, belching. It's lunch hour, remember? I rested my left ear in the palm of my left hand and kept writing. I was not about to let this whirlwind of gross be an excuse for me doing poorly on anything, and refused to do poorly. 

Once my twenty minutes was up, the proctor took my two pages (numbered, by the way, because I rock like that), my file authorization, and handed me the interview questions which I thought I'd get to take notes on. Wrong again! I had a whopping five minutes to review the five, three-part questions, without making notes. Okay, guess I'll take what I can get. I could feel my blood pressure steep a little. So far for this position (in the past week) I've written two two-page essays and am reviewing the equivalent to fifteen interview questions in five minutes. 

Relieved knowing I was halfway done, the proctor escorted me back through the maze and over to a quiet room where the panel was waiting to begin the oral interview. Hands were shook, formalities were out of the way, and so began the real interview. The chairperson made a joke about doing all that writing and to shake out my nerves from writing so much. To be honest, not much rattles me. I keep my composure insanely well, and even when I'm nervous, nobody would think twice that I was metaphorically shaking in my boots unless they really, truly knew me. I made a lame joke about keeping me on my toes and not expecting a written assignment, but hey, that just shows how flexible and adaptable I am to a changing environment and new, unplanned tasks, right? It was appreciated. 

We rattled through the questions and I threw out example X, Y, and Z about this question and that question, how my time management skills are through the freakin' roof, and how if I don't know something, I'll be the first to use all of my resources to familiarize myself with the subject and ask questions. After 17 minutes of me reliving some of the most stressful points of my career that happen to serve as the best examples of my magnificence, I thanked the panel for their time and handed them my updated list of references, complete with timeframes in which I reported to each supervisor. I'm pretty efficient and thorough. It was at that point that I caught myself and hoped I wasn't coming off as an asshole. Hey, here are my references. I rocked that shit so I know you're going to call them, and I want to make sure you call the people that make me sound the best. I then made it very clear that I didn't mean to assume they were checking my references, but I'd rather be prepared in the case that they do. There were some chuckles. The lead chairperson thanked me for coming in on my lunch hour, and appreciates that I'm that flexible. "Now, please go get some lunch!" 

My response: "That's all part of effective time management, right?

I probably said this with the thickest layer of cheese, but it got some laughs and some "very good"s, and it was at that moment I prayed that the contagious charm as noted in my recent personality evaluation was really going to come through for me. 

 GAHHHHHHHH. Fingers crossed, y'all. I REALLY want this promotion. 

.... but I basically ROCKED THAT SHIT. 

Monday, July 28, 2014

When Plan A Fails

Anyone here familiar with Amy Schumer? I find her terribly hilarious, but that's probably because the majority of the day my mind is in the gutter.... Like every guy I know... 


Monday, July 21, 2014

College Kids

As I've previously mentioned, part of my job consists of scheduling interviews. This process so happens to be hiring for Student Interns. It's been a bit of a challenge getting interviews scheduled all on one day, so I managed to schedule two days plus a third the following week. 

Given I graduated with my Bachelor's three and a half years ago, and using email was a prime method of communication, I was under the impression that email would be the best method in reaching these young, hopefully-ambitious applicants. 

I was wrong. 

Apparently, email is old news, and unless I can schedule these interviews via text message, dialing up the old phone is the method that's proved most efficient. Phone calls it is. 

There were a few candidates that were incredibly pleasant to speak with and more than excited to be given the opportunity to interview. Upon telling them I was sending a follow-up email to confirm their appointment with location and instructions, these candidates rapidly and enthusiastically emailed back. Yay! 

On the other hand, there were a few candidates that were harder to get in touch with than the president. Candidate X, for example, was sent two emails to follow up with more information that I'd needed before scheduling them. After promptly responding to that email (I say promptly because it only took 18 hours), Candidate X did not respond when sent an interview appointment time. In my efforts to confirm this appointment, I picked up the received from my desk phone, and reluctantly started dialing out. 

"Hi, may I please speak with Candidate X?"

"Yeah. This is him. Who are YOU?" (feel free to add as much snarky and rude attitude as you'd like). 

"This is KC with Agency Name calling to follow up with you regarding your intern interview."

Tone changes: "Oh, yeah, what's up?" Seriously, BRO? What's up? Ugh. 

"I received your follow up email with the documents I requested. Thank you for that. I also sent you an email scheduling your interview."

"Ya. Kay."

"So, I'd like to follow up and confirm that you'll be able to make your interview on This Day at This Time..."

I didn't get halfway through that thought before I heard, " Yeah, yeah, yeah, alright already I get it."

"... Umm, alright..."

"Kay thanks." CLICK. 

Really, universe? You give me this punk to deal with? Some sort of "curses upon your house and brethren" type word vomit spilled out of my mouth after the brat hung up on me. 
**Follow Up** The little shit completely bombed the interview and scored very poorly. I guess that's what happens when you're so focused on yourself and are a rude asshole to others (NOTE: I was not on any panel, nor did I contribute to any scoring whatsoever... it just happened that way). 

Once I gathered my thoughts after dealing with the POS Candidate X was, I decided to move on and confirm an interview with Candidate Y. Please keep in mind that this all took place around 3pm. 

"Hi, may I please speak with Candidate Y?"
(whispering) "This is Candidate Y."
"This is KC from Agency Name. I'm calling to confirm your interview on This Date at This Time as stated in the interview I sent you yesterday."
(still whispering) "I'll be there."
At this point, I started speaking very quietly, because for some reason he was making me feel like I needed to be quiet. Dude, are you okay? Were you asleep? If so, is it because you work nights, or because you are a lazy ass college kid? Is someone in your house? Should I call the cops? Are you in a hostage situation?
(me slightly whispering because I couldn't help it) "Okay, thank you. We will see you then. Have a great day."

Well, at least he wasn't a total jerk like Candidate X was, right?

Now we move on to Candidate Z. Ahhh, Candidate Z. This was probably one of the most interesting phone calls I've ever experienced in my life (next to when I interrupted someone's afternoon delight with an interview phone call a few years ago. True story.)

"Hi, may I please speak with Candidate Z?" (I was expecting a male to respond, so when a female blurted out the following, I was genuinely taken by surprise)

"Who the FUCK IS THIS?!"

"Umm... [I actually forgot my name for a second] This is KC with Agency Name calling to schedule Candidate Z with an intern interview, but I'm pretty sure I have the wrong number..."

"No this is his number. Who are you and what do you want to schedule him for? He didn't apply to any intern job? Who are you really? Are you another one of his hussies?" (rattling on, clearly very upset)

"No ma'am, I'm actually just trying to schedule him for an interview, but if he isn't available you can have him call me back at [gave my desk number]. Thanks!"

This time I hung up first. 

I always have a hard time believing these people exist. Then I take joy in these people making me seem normal in comparison. 


Sunday, July 20, 2014

Recreational Activities

The Giver-Of-My-Life and I went to the state fair earlier this week. I actually used some vacation time and cut out of work early. The amount I'm hating that place is better suited for a blog post in its own, though. 

Anyway, the Wheel Mobile or Wheel Watchers van or whatever it's called was at the fair for two days. I attribute much of my successes in English classes to Wheel of Fortune thanks to my mom watching it all the time while I was growing up. I really liked the show and have always felt a sense of badass accomplishment when I was able to solve the puzzle on my own and before the people on TV. 

For the two days the truck was in town with it's traveling auditions crew, there were six sessions, three per day, where attendees could enter to be selected to go on stage. This is essentially part one of a multi-part audition for the actual show. Even if your name wasn't called to go up on stage, your entry card would still be considered for an audition within the next few months. As soon as a name is called, that person's audition begins, and everything is recorded. 

My mom and I arrived to the fair around 4 pm, an hour early for the 5 pm Wheel of Fortune show, and with plenty of time to watch the motocross show (which was AMAZING by the way... who knew three motocross guys could capture my attention for that long). I have no delusions about my anxiety that I take a multitude of measures to conquer on a daily basis, one of them being medication. I'm fairly open with this, as I believe my openness about it not only helps me deal with it, but might help others in the process. My mother is one of the people that should be medicated, but isn't. (I'm getting to why this is relevant, I promise). 

Knowing my mom was more excited about auditioning to be on Wheel of Fortune than I was, and she'd clearly wanted it more, I decided to take my entry card and fill it in with her information. I wrote down her name, address, email, and all other pertinent contact information, on the card before reaching the bottom section which instructed the applicant to note their hobbies, what they like to do in their free time, and interesting facts about themselves. I know my mother very well, and knew without a doubt once she got to that section she would turn to me and say, " I don't know what's interesting about me. What should I put? I don't know what to write."

Sure enough, that's exactly what happened. I responded telling her to just be honest and write her favorite pastimes. Also knowing my mother as well as I do, I knew this would consist of "scrapbooking and spending time with my family"... aka the most generic and widely used response of all time. To spice things up, I decided I'd make her entry slightly more exciting. 

"I'm addicted to Candy Crush, mostly. I'm going to rehab for it, so it's not a huge problem anymore... but I still have urges."

Once our entries were dropped in the box, I spilled the beans and let my mom know I'd added one for her as well. "You jerk! Why did you do that?! What if they call me twice?!"

Can you see where the anxiety comes from? This woman was so excited to go to this audition, then nearly had a breakdown when her chances were doubled. 

The entire show we sat there waiting for her name to be called... which was actually more like we spent 45 minutes of my mother panicking about having to go up onstage... or being disqualified for her name in twice. Insert eye-rolling here. 

While we're watching other potential contestants, an Indian woman (with a very, very thick accent) was called to the stage. Her excitement wasn't matched by anyone. She didn't even wait for the host to ask her any questions, she just jumped right in and rattled off loads of facts about herself. I learned that she likes to spend time with her family just like the fifty other mothers that applied, she likes gardening and spending time outside and she does a lot of cocaine. 

Well, she actually does a lot of cooking, but my mother immediately leaned over and asked, "Did she just say she does a lot of cocaine??" 

Yes, mom. She openly admits to doing a lot of cocaine in public while being filmed for a nationally broadcast game show. 

I guess the assumption wasn't that far off base, I mean, we WERE at the state fair, in the heart of the city, where there are a lot of drug-related police reports filed. 

Bottom line: My mother needs to be medicated to calm her shit, and not with cocaine. 

The PG stuff

When I was a kid I believed in fairies. I believed that love at first sight was a real thing, and that one day it would happen to me. My prince charming, or knight in shining armor, or whatever he would be, would come metaphorically riding into my life, sweep me off my feet, and whisk me away to happily ever after. The rule was, if you were a little girl, you'd grow up to be a princess and fall in love with a handsome prince. That was the rule. 

At some point in my mid-twenty-something years, I realized that I'm the exception to this rule. A number of wannabes in tin foil have stumbled up to my doorstep and clamored the claddagh ring door knocker, only to stay for some coffee and leave me there to do the dishes. I'll give them credit for the tin foil; at least they're trying, right? 

I'm at the point in my life where the most common trend in society is for all of your friends to get married and start popping out kids like a pez dispenser. I'm also at the point where the other half of my friends that decided to get married early on are getting divorced. There is a swirling tornado of happiness and grief surrounding the world of facebook at the moment, probably all thanks to my friends. It's become quite confusing to my strangely assembled life. Am I supposed to run off and get married to a guy that pops up on match.com? Am I supposed to just be happy that I'm single and don't have to deal with all of the issues that come along with marriage? Am I supposed to be grateful that I can still go out whenever I want because I don't need to find a babysitter? Or am I just supposed to be content with knowing that I don't need to hire a lawyer and make a list of communal property to sort out?

I don't need to do any of that. OR... I can do all of it. I'm learning quite a bit about myself lately, mostly over the last year since my last long-term relationship ended. I may not know what I want entirely, but I most definitely know what I don't want. 

I've learned that a habit of mine is dissecting every little thing that happens, especially when members of the opposite sex. For some reason, my brain processes events and texts and messages as if there's some other meaning, when sometimes things can just BE. There doesn't need to be any extraction of it. This also has lead to me putting everything about myself out there and on the table and sometimes almost asking, begging to be smashed into tiny pieces. Many people think that's silly. Why waste time and put yourself out there so much?

I may dissect things too much, I may put myself out there as if nobody has ever broken my heart before, and I may continue to hope that he's going to graciously flow through my door with lilies, knowing that I don't like roses, and kiss me with a dip that I'll probably ruin by slipping and falling on my ass... but at least that all means I still care. I still have hope. Some people in particular may think they've won. They think because they aren't putting themselves out there or letting people in, or even letting people stay in their lives that they won't get hurt. You may not get hurt, but you don't find happiness that way either.  I may do a lot of stupid shit, but I'm a lot closer to love than a lot of people. 

Part of my dissecting comes from growing up. When I was a kid, if a boy teased you or poked you or was in any way mean to you, it was because he liked you. I was told stories that implored me to wait for the third act twist, like fairy tales and rom-coms always showed in them. I was told that I'd be the exception to that rule that love happens the same way for everyone, that my prince charming would show up when the time was right. What they didn't tell me, and what I've learned, is how to read the signs, how to tell the ones that care from the ones that don't, how to make your own happy ending, how to be content and happy with yourself. 

If a guy wants to be with a girl, he will make it happen. He will return the calls, he will hang on to the texts and keep his word. He will do SOMETHING to let you know that he cares, that he STILL cares, and that you are important to him. Even if it's platonic, if a person wants you in their life, they will make room for you to stay, and make the moves to make sure that you do just that.You will also go out of YOUR way to make sure they know you want them in your life. Every relationship takes effort from both sides. So, that person may still love you. They probably do love you more than they're even aware of. They probably think of you more than you have any idea, or give credit to. You may cross their mind during the day, you may even make them smile when they are dealing with something insurmountably difficult to explain. That's all wonderful and hopeful and probably true, but that's not what matters. 

What matters is what they're doing about it, and if what they are doing about it is nothing, then you certainly shouldn't be doing anything. I know, it's not that easy. I have no delusions about life being black and white. I see life as one big grey area to be honest. Nothing is ever black and white, unless of course it's #FFFFFF or #000000 for all you web nerds out there. 

I'm not in an emotional depression. I have no delusions about where any of my relationships with anyone in my life stand. I'm really just trying to get everything in my head out so I can think straight for the rest of the evening. If it helps someone in the process, then I'm more than happy to be there as well. 

Monday, July 14, 2014


A friend of mine posted a picture on face-space today... and I quickly realized that it entirely encompasses my love life. 

I've never gotten the fairy tale ending. 
I quite often lose my shoes. This is partially because I don't like wearing them in the first place. 
I clearly must have been intoxicated through the entirety of my previous relationships, because, well.... what the hell other explanation could there be for those colossal failures and my beyond poor choice in guys?


I realize at this point, I've made myself sound like a sloppy drunk that makes terrible life choices, and this simply isn't true. I'm most definitely not a drunk. 

The life choices are improving drastically. For example, I've added a few more items to my "bettering myself" list including:

  • Making a t-shirt quilt out of my SF Giants shirts
  • Finishing the blanket I started crocheting last November
  • Keeping my camera out to use it more regularly
  • Binge watch Doctor Who and/or The Tenth Kingdom
  • Finish the Color Run in 30 minutes. ish. 
Ya know, and a bunch of other thrilling escapades. 

Friday, July 11, 2014

Bringing me to my knees today.

You're the first face that I see, and the last thing I think about. You're the reason that I'm alive; You're what I can't live without. You never give up when I'm falling apart. Your arms are always open wide, and you're quick to forgive when I make a mistake. You're the light inside my eyes, you give me a reason to keep trying, and you bring me to my knees. 

I don't deserve your love, but you give it to me anyway. I can't get enough. 
You're everything I need, and when I walk away you take off running and come right after me. It's what you do...and I don't deserve you. 

Saturday, July 5, 2014

Zero Gravity

I'm currently laying on the floor of the game room in my cousins' house in the middle of nowhere. Her baby shower / belated Fourth of July BBQ / mom & aunt's birthday celebration is commencing as we read. My cousin refused to have an actual baby shower with games and what not, so my mom convinced her to at least have a table with baby stuff.... Including a diaper cake, candy bar, and baby-themed cupcakes. 

I'm laying on the floor upstairs in an attempt to avoid awkward conversations with ancient family members about where my life is headed. "Are you seeing anyone stable yet?... Don't worry, you're a nice girl, it will happen." "When are you going to settle down?" "Don't you ever want to have kids and a family?" "A new puppy hardly counts as stability," "I heard your last boyfriend was in jail... Is that true?" "How's work? Are you still doing the same thing at the same place?" 

Directly above me is a skylight, and aside from the smoky air outside from a multitude of wildfires over the past 24 hours, the sky is clear and cloudless. It's always amazed me how looking at one spot makes everything else fade away. In this moment, all I can see is the blue sky. The window frame, the dusty edges of the window pane that are too high to dust regularly, and the entirety of the oversized bonus room around me fade away into the bright blue box. 

I've focused on the blue box too much. I need to take a step back. I need to go outside. 

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Another list.

Much like everyone else on this planet, at this point in my life, I've been through a lot. I have...
Had broken bones 
Gotten promotions
Moved out of my parents' house three times
Tried bear stew
Swam in the pacific and the Atlantic 
Had my heart broken 
Owned a few different pets
Changed a flat tire 
Bought my own car
Gotten myself into debt
Failed college classes
Majored and graduated with honors in the subject I previously failed 
Loved more than I ever thought possible
Read an entire series of books 
Had a Harry Potter marathon 
Learned how much to not drink 
... And a shit load more. 

What I haven't done is probably a longer list. However, please don't assume I don't know what it's like. I may not have ever gotten married, but I have seen a quarter-century marriage succeed... and fall apart; I may not have had and raised my own child yet, but I do know what it's like to feel devastated when it gets taken away from you. My past experiences do not in any way trump anyone else's. I may not have had to go through a life altering event, but that doesn't mean I don't know what it's like to feel sad and depressed and angry and frustrated and relieved and overwhelmed all at the same time. 

I've seen a parent go to rehab for prescription drug addiction, and I've seen friends die because they didn't get the help they needed, which was the point I realized that we are the only ones who make our choices. Whatever choices I make, I go to bed with. The man I love may be lying next to me, but he doesn't have to sleep with my brain constantly replaying decisions, good and bad, until the tape runs out. Just me. 

Nobody will ever truly know what's on another person's mind, and nobody tells 100% of the truth 100% of the time. All you can do is hope that your relationships with the people you choose to keep in your life are strong enough to be honest and open with. You hope that even though one or both of you may be going through what seems like an endless road of hell, you will both come out on the other side in a better place. You hope that the other person knows how much you care for them and although you may get obsessively paranoid about things you have absolutely no control over, it's because you care, you're used to the good you've built with them, and you're hopeful that it really is just all in your head. You then hope they'll forgive you for exerting your stresses and insecurities onto them. You hope for reassurance that your 'person' will still love and accept you despite the ongoing list of flaws you've compiled over the years. You cross your fingers that this jump into the unknown will land you on a cotton candy cloud surrounded by pixie dust and not barreling toward a pit of boiling lava in a dark abyss, all alone, with nothing but scratches and bruises to keep you warm at night. 

I'm looking for the silver lining at the moment. So far... it's knowing that the negative things are only temporary. 

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Wino Wednesdays

Leo graduated puppy school today! So proud of my little weirdo fox puppy! 

It took every piece of energy and every bit of restraint not to send it to BC and tell him all about it, especially since I missed Leo this weekend and when I got home he did a backflip off my thighs out of excitement. 

Also, another event... Pookie has been hanging out with news anchor girl quite often lately. He told me she's coming over again and even SHAVED THE BEARD! I'm going to go ahead and credit the long-awaited (by the rest of us) shaving of the beard to BC... I forwarded that advice and two days later... Done! So much better. 

It's wino Wednesday, however I'm skipping the wine tonight. Partly because I work tomorrow, partly because I haven't grocery shopped in over a month and we don't have any wine at home... Haha mostly because of work. 

CVS pharmacy story to follow. 

Take me back there...pleeeaaassseeeee

For some reason, l always sleep with a blanket around me. Not like covering me, but holding it and laying on it on a pillow. I have a hard time sleeping without it. I brought one of my favorite blankets on my recent weekend adventure, and I've gotta say, one of the best things about staying with someone you love and don't get to see nearly enough is that even whe you have to leave, your blanket still smells like them. 

Must. Stay. Positive.

In an effort to work on that list and leave work at work, I'm going to vent now before I'm off the clock at 3:30. 

I'm someone that puts 110% in to my work. I take pride in what I do. If my name is going to be on it, I need to be proud of it. That being said, I have been putting in 200% for the past eight years at the same job. I've had to fight for promotions and apply and compete for jobs I was already doing for years. Management has made it insanely difficult for me to promote, and although they say they acknowledge my work, it's hard to tell when the rest of my four-person team gets credit for everything. We recently had a vacancy on our team that we had to fill for two classifications higher than what I've spent two years fighting for, and i "didn't qualify" for that position, but have trained that new hire that makes twice as much as I do on the entire workload. Someone please explain this. ....please note this is probably why the state can't get out of debt. 

Moreover, I go out of my way to schedule weekly update meetings with management so upper management can stay very involved in processes. Today, I'm apparently no longer part of the tam because the meeting "notes" that we're sent out had the other three team members on there with tasks, but not me. So, I'm wondering what happened in that I no longer get to do things since I've been busting my ass for this tam for years and have little to no help from management in advancing my career, and quite the opposite. 

I've done all I can to maintain my composure, to remain calm and positive and not let it bother me, but I'm about to lose it today. 

All I want to do is quit. Just straight up quit my job and move away.

Psychological Selfies

You can decide just about anything in your life. You can decide what to have for breakfast, which way to go to work, which friends to spend time with, really, almost every factor of your life you have control over. What none of us truly have complete control over is who we fall for and how certain people affect our lives. You just have to do your best to be okay.

I'm taking a mental inventory of my life right about now. For the first time in, well, forever, I understand things I didn't know existed, and I know what I want for my life. I haven't the slightest clue when it will all fall into place, but it will. I realized part of the problem I've had is that everyone puts a lot of responsibility on me, and always has, and don't get me wrong, that's a massive compliment that I wouldn't change for anything... But it left a lot less time for me to figure out how to relax and take care of myself. I've spent the past six years taking care of everyone except me, and because of that I'm feeling it now. Some days it's neat. I've developed this fifth-and-a-half sense that reveals itself as a twisting knot in the pit of my stomach, and somehow I just seem to know when something isn't right instinctively. My anxiety includes a need to make everyone happy, and if someone isn't, I tend to think its my fault. It's not. 

I had a conversation with a very close friend last night (we're going to call this person BC... For the badass Canadian Sirius channel we discovered on the radio this weekend) that hit me pretty hard. I got to spend the weekend with BC, taking some risks, laughing at very dumb jokes, and letting chocolate for breakfast be okay. Easily one of the few moments I've felt like myself in my entire life. After the long haul back to my hometown, I think the stress hit both of us pretty hard, leading to a conversation that made me feel like a horrendous person. The last thing I'd ever want to do is hurt this person, and if I did I could never forgive myself. For the record, I didn't. The thought was terrifying and sickening. I wish I could go into detail, however I'm not allowed. I'm getting prettttttty great with confidentiality thanks to work. 

So, for a little while, until things settle, I'm on my own. I'll probably be relying way too much on Nic and Kimber and Ads and Meus, but that's what friends are for right? Also, probably lots of moscato. LOTS. ......no, I'm not a wino. Yeah, you know who you are that was thinking it..... :P

First on my list... Taking care of myself, and by that I mean believing I'm worth it. This is a much bigger task than that sentence leads on. This weekend I realized I don't see the world the way most people do. I'm very trusting because I believe people are innately good. Not everyone is good, and not everyone is selfless. Not everyone is selfish either, and that's probably why I feel most myself around BC; we might process our emotionally fucked up-ness differently but we're both entirely selfless. For a long time I'd date guys that were selfish and mostly narcissists. I could never understand why they couldn't go out of their way for me like I did for them. I never went out of my way in expectation of reciprocation, but when that reciprocation failed to happen at all, I'd start questioning it. The repeated cycle of taking care of someone and doing everything possible to make sure they're happy left me empty, so empty that I was no longer happy. 72 hours changed a lot of that. I'm totally worth it, and I am incredibly grateful for such an amazing person to have shown me that. 

I'm going to actually follow my previously established rules to live by, and add a few more.

... Drink more water. I'm a big water drinker as it is, but given water is a third oxygen, and oxygen enhances happiness and eases tension, I need to drink more. 

... Take longer walks. Not only will this rehab my ankle, but the vitamin D will help me feel happy as well. Not to mention puppy loves to run in circles on the twenty foot leash.... In circles. You'd think I was breaking a tiny horse. 

... Read. Read stimulating books, and read before bed. Just read MORE. 

... Leave work at work. This is probably one of the biggest ones. I'm allowing myself about fifteen minutes when I get home to talk to whoever about work, and after that, it's done. Work stays at the office.

... Plan purchase and limit impulse buying. Actually, try to eliminate impulse buying. My credit score has been going up, and I want to keep it that way. 

... Cut out the toxic. There are a few people I've grown up around that aren't good for me, and I need to accept that it's okay. Just because it's a relative does not mean I owe them anything. I get to choose my friends and who I spend my life with, and THOSE are the relationships that I want to focus on. (Note: this does not mean I don't appreciate my family and relatives, just that I now know which relationships I want to give my energy to.)

... When someone tells me they love me, believe it and trust it. 

... Clean makeup, lots of sunscreen, and an abundance of body lotion. 

... Stop worrying about other people judging me. Be more secure with myself. After all, as it was pointed out to me this weekend, I shouldn't be so insecure. Stop. 

... Clean out anything I haven't worn in a year. Donate it.... Or make a t shirt quilt. 

This is a work in progress, and patience laced with hope and optimism is about the only thing that's going to get me through it. Also, the fact that someone owes me. :P

I have to keep giggling about stupid jokes and hot dog monster nightmares to keep my tiny tear ducts for overflowing. 


Friday, May 23, 2014

Karma is a real thing.

From previous posts, you know I rescued a puppy. A very sweet, loveable, well-behaved puppy... That has severe separation anxiety issues. 

I'm not sure what the previous owners did to this poor pup, but he panics when I get in the shower because he doesn't understand that when I close the shower curtain I'm still there. 

I started dropping him off at my parents' house this week... 5am drop off, 530pm pick up. It's been working it beautifully for the past three days, until I made a jackass move. 

Work has been draining the life from me, so when I woke up late (as in I woke up at 5:07 and had a negative seven minutes to drop this puppy off), I was a little spacey and scattered. I threw on some mismatched work clothes, grabbed my makeup and a granola bar, picked up leo and ran out the door. He did his morning bathroom routine at my parents' house this day. 

Still rushing, I left my keys in the door so I  wouldn't have to screw around with them later to lock back up, and brought Leo in. Once he was all set up, I panicked because I couldn't find my keys ("scattered" may have been a very nice adjective for this morning). I put his poop bag that I planned on taking to the trash on my way out on the kitchen island counter and got his good bowl set up. After talking to myself out loud and also asking Leo where my keys were as if he was going to answer, I saw the door cracked open and proceeded to feel moronic as I remembered I left them in the door. I ran to the door, rushed out, and headed to work. 

It wasn't until I reached my desk at work that I had to call my mom and have the following conversation... Which the new girl at work heard, however only my side of this conversation making me seem like a strangely gross crazy person...

Me: Heyyyy mom. Good morning! 
Mom: Good morning.. it's early what's up?
Me: I'm guessing you haven't gone to the kitchen yet this morning? 
Mom: No, I'm getting ready for work... Why??
Me: Well in that case I'm really REALLY sorry in advance..
Mom: K.... WHY are you sorry?....
Me: I left poop on the counter and I'm really sorry I feel like a real asshole. 
Mom: WHAT?! You jerk! Throw your dog's shit bag away!!!
Me: ahhh I know I'm so sorry I was rushing and forgot and I meant to toss it! That's why I wanted to apologize for doing such a shitty thing... Ha. Shitty. Get it? 
Mom:..........yes. I get it. (Laughing now... She's got a decent sense of humor)
Me: I won't leave poop on your counter again!! I promise!! 

I get off the phone with my mom, relieved that she wasn't too angry, and turned around to see the new girl on our team giving me a really awkward and I uncomfortable glance. 

Me: Ohhhhh no. It was Leo's poop. Not mine.
Ads: ...and Leo is?... 
Me: Oh! My puppy!! It was in a bag from his walk. 
Ads: Thank god. I was grossed out for a second. 

Here is where the karma happens. Later that day, we'd wrapped up some hiring process events, and the managers came back and wanted to add additional pieces to the process that we've never done before. 

Basically, my version of shit on the counter was getting to recreate everything I had just shredded that afternoon. Ugh. 

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Parking lot phenomenon

There is always that place you go frequently and have to park. Most people call it work, in my case it's the outskirts of hell. Disclaimer: this will probably sound racist, however it is kist a blunt observation of my experience this morning and nothing more. 

I dropped off Leo at puppy daycare this morning (read: my parents' house because the poor pup has severe separation anxiety and freaks the shit out whenever I leave). I'm already running a little late and remember I have to get gas (I reay love my car because it not only tells me how shitty I'm driving and that my mileage efficiency is dropping, but it also reminds me that I need an oil change soon. Yay for spending money on cars!) I gas up, head over the bridge, and off to Dante's Inferno to make that paycheck! 

Upon arriving, and singing some Civil Wars, I back into a space near the middle of a row, with one car on my passenger side. I sat there for a minute, shamelessly taking a selfie (behind my pink leopard window shades) to get BC's opinion of my new hair style. Update: this hair color is a keeper. Reluctantly, I turned off my engine, open my door, and hop out. It was taking me a minute to get myself and my belongings together (purse, lunch bag, coffee, more coffee) when this Asian lady comes speeding down the aisle. 

Let me be very clear when I say that the row I was parked in was very open. It was before 6am, there were quite literally about sixty empty spaces around me. This beehive comes speed racing down this row, and starts to turn into the space directly next to me... While my door I OPEN and I'm standing there getting my stuff out of the car. Mrs Jeff Gordon slams on her brakes, and proceeds to wave her hands around frantically. 

Ohhhhh, NO. If you want THIS spot, you can wait two minutes for me to move instead of plowing me down, otherwise suck it up and move six feet over to the next space, crazy.  Instead of yelling this at her like I was in my mind, I smile and wave back, yelling, "Good morning!" 

Asian Lady was not happy with this. Because I'm what I consider a sweet girl, I closed my door a bit so this psycho could park in the space next to me. She takes up that opportunity very quickly and zips into the space, proceeding to scrape the curb with her bumper. NICE. 

I decided the best course of action for me was to get the hell away from this crazy as fast as I could. 

...and then I hear the click-clack slaps of undersized six inch heels behind me... And I received the dirtiest look I've seen in a while from this broad. 

I think people forget to be courteous because these aren't strangers here, these are coworkers. 

Look out for the crazies, everyone!

Sunday, May 18, 2014

Bug Central

Nic and I live in the suburbs. We are suburbanites living on the edge of the boonies, actually. Our complex backs up to a massive field that separates us from the highway that takes you right out of this crazy town. The majority of this side of the city is comprised of strip malls facing well built neighborhoods, surrounded by fields and wetland areas. 

At my parents' house, which was less than a quarter mile from one of the biggest wetland preserve areas in the city of not the biggest, there were always little creatures showing up: frogs hanging out on the hose, snakes in the pool, mice roaming the sidewalk before the neighborhood cats got them, and you could hear owls all the time at night. At my and Nic's place, it's not too much different. So far, we've had the centipede fiasco (see post, will link later), which has now been followed up by a few more creature events. 

Earlier this week, comfortably tucked in my bed attempting to finally get some shut eye, I hear Nic yell my name and slam a door. That's never a good sign. If this girl wasn't one of the most amazing people I've ever known in my life, I'd have stayed in bed. She is. I got up. She's now in a towel staying clear of the bathroom and asking me to help her get rid of the spider between her shower curtain and the liner. I'm thinking it's just a little spider, so I grab a tissue and pull back the curtain. 

NO. Fuck no. This was no little spider. It was clearly furry and vicious. This bastard glared at me with it's mean little eyes and darted toward me. This was no job for a tissue, this was a job for Clorox all surface cleaner with bleach (this is not a plug, that just happens to be what we have under the sink)

I ran back into the bathroom telling Nic I'm gonna kill the little shit, pulled back the curtain again, and it was GONE. Talk about scary. After a couple minutes of searching it resurfaced on the curtain liner and I sprayed the hell out of it. I had all direct hits and sprayed this bleach cleaner on the spider until it was dripping. 

IT RAN AWAY. The bleach didn't phase it at ALL. This event quickly became nearly as creepy as the centipede. These critters here are bionic. 

Fed up and freaked out, I grabbed my old running sneaker, hit the shower curtain and smashed it when it hit the floor. VICTORY! 

KC: 2, nasty bugs: 0. 

Okay, so, the next day I was working overtime at home, physically and mentally drained, so my mother decides to bring me dinner so it's one less thing I have to think about (and it was very much appreciated because I probably would have just ended up making some strange concoction of leftover tostadas and cereal. 

She gets to the door, and before she knocks I knew she was there. How? The childlike scream of "what the hell is that?! Eew!!" Coming from my mother on the other side of the door. 

Apparently, there was a snake that slithered in front of her from one planter area to the other side of our door. Good lord. 

Now, TODAY, I'm laying in bed icing my ankle (I sprained it yesterday at the gun range; hilarious injury story to follow in another post... Probably the one with the chicken standoff). I look over at the wall, and what must have been the child or younger brother of the shower spider was hanging out. This time I jumped up, called for Nic, and attempted to paper towel kill it. 

Nic has had just as rough a week as I have, making her initial solution much more effective than mine. She grabbed one of my flip flops, slammed it against the wall, and scraped the spider off on our patio. DONE. 

We make great roommates. :) 

Friday, May 16, 2014


"This thing we have, it's--it's never been easy. I've... I've lost you so many times. I've lost you to darkness, to weakness, and finally, to death. But now I realize... I realize that I have not spent my life losing you. I've spent my life finding you."

"...When we met, I wasn't just unloved and unloving. I was an enemy of love. Love only brought me pain. My walls were up. But you brought them down. You brought me home. You brought life into my life and chased away all the darkness. I will never forget the distance between what I was and what I am. I owe more to you than I can ever say. How you can see the man behind the monster I will never know."

"...But that monster is gone. And the man beneath him may be flawed... but we all are. And I love you for it. Sometimes the best book has the dustiest jacket. And sometimes the best teacup is chipped."

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

for a later date

Not talking to you is easily one of the hardest things I've had to do. It's a conscious decision every time, and I can't tell you how many times a day I want to tell you about things that are happening... good, bad, and everything silly in between, even if it's just to give you a laugh or two. I miss you terribly, so much that it's a physical feeling. There's a hole in my chest. There is an unyielding and insatiable emptiness.

I can hold my breath, fake a smile, bite my tongue, force a laugh, play the part, dance the dance. I'd stay awake for days and turn on the charm and pretend like it doesn't destroy me if that's what you need me to do. I can do all of that if that's what you want in order to be happy. I can be there as your friend, and I can be the best friend you've ever had. What I can't do is pretend that I don't love you. I can't pretend that I don't know that it's real and true and mind-blowing and soul saving and ravenous and ecstatic. I can't pretend that I remember what life was like before you were present in mine.

And I can't tell you all of these things directly because I love you, and right now that means not saying a word.

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Fun facts

Fun facts & things I'm learning (about myself): 

1. I will gladly opt for cleaning dirty dishes , but please don't ask me to put away clean ones. Ugh.

2. Same with laundry. Usually the pile of clothes on the floor is clean, not dirty. 

3. I am just now, after twenty something years, starting to use pens with blue ink. For as long as I can remember the sight of blue ink when I write has given me anxiety. 

4. On that note, my handwriting cj she's quite often, and can get disgustingly messy... Like a doctor. 

5. I hate bacon, onions, and cucumbers. Gross.

6. I love strawberry lemonade and drink water more than fish. 

7. Rockstar energy drinks spike my anxiety, so I'm now not drinking them anymore.  

8. I have an intense phobia of all winged creatures (except penguins because they're adorable and playful). This is thanks to multiple attacks from geese at ages 2, 8, and 21. 

9. PMS treats me like I'm a werewolf; a few days out of the month I turn into a monster and want to attack everyone. My
Apologies in advance. 

10. I'm not broken, sad, or pitiful. I don't typically get upset because of things that happen to myself because I don't really feel bad for myself. Majority of times I'm truly upset are because someone I care for deeply is doing something, saying something, or making a decision that isn't good for them. Sometimes I get mad at the universe for throwing some Olympic obstacles my way, and it's frustrating. 

11. There are very few episodes of Saturday Night Live that I find side-splitting funny. 

12. There is nothing in the world like feeling for someone in a way you can't put into words. 

13. I used to think pink was my favorite color, right after I thought orange was, and blue before that. None of those were because that's what I was influenced. 

14. For a very long time I made decisions about what I liked and what I wanted based on my surroundings and opinions of others. A couple years ago I stopped being a chameleon and stated choosing things for me. I've always liked turquoise. 

15. I'm too hopeful. 

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

People are amazing

Disclaimer: I do not in any way see myself as better than any other person, not do I have a closed mind, judge too harshly, or assume the worst in people. I realize this may come off as arrogant and, well, for lack of a better descriptor, bitchy, but it is only out of frustration! 

My career entails a vast amount of organizational and multitasking skills. For the past (almost) two years, I've been assigned workloads equivalent of two full-time employees (one that retired and was a classification above mine, but that rant won't happen today). It's demanding and draining to say the least, mostly because the certain individuals outside of my team that I'm required to work with are often "last minute" people. Not cool bro, not cool. 

Our division conducts hiring practices and processes almost quarterly, sometimes more often and they overlap. A job opportunity notice was just posted to the external, statewide website. This means for the next ten days, Meus and I get to field a plethora of mind-blowing phone inquiries about the position. 

"I currently work here, can I apply?" 
You can do whatever you'd like. 

"Who do I put as the contact person?" 
You're talkin' to her... Same person you just contacted from the notice. 

"Can I just email you my application?" 
You can, but that's not what the instructions say. 

"Why should I even apply again because YOU didn't hire me last time?"
I didn't make any decisions about who was hired. Maybe your interview sucked. 

These all sound like legitimate questions, however the job posting clearly covers every single item we get questions about. EVERY time. The instructions are clearly listed under the "How to Apply" section, and contact and job information is all labeled and provided. Basically, these peeps don't want to read. 

Meus and I share a workstation table in between our desks. Each process, there is an inbox labeled "APPLICATIONS HERE" with a giant, highlighted arrow pointing toward the inbox... 

It never fails... Multiple times a day, someone will walk up to me and ask where they turn in their application... If you found my desk in this maze of a building with 3000 people working in it, I would like to also think you can read a sign that's right in front of you and couldn't be more obvious with strobe lights attached to it. 

WHAT. THE. HELL?! Get it together people!! 

It sounds insensitive and negative and condescending, but when you have to work two full time jobs and are getting paid for one, patience runs short. 

Rant over! Funny chicken story to come later!

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Today's Downtown Photo Shoot!

I never knew how they really worked until I was a senior in high school, and even then I thought it was a requirement to have them taken in a studio with props and backdrops. Nope. Definitely not the case! I learned this when I saw some of my friends' photos that were outside and just damn beautiful. Nothing compares to natural lighting.

Over the past few years, I've done many photo shoots, and only one of them has been indoors. Other than professional softboxes and ramps in a photo studio, I have an extremely hard time feeling good about photos I take indoors. Natural lighting amazes me every time I do a professional shoot outside.

I mentioned the mass amounts of anxiety that was consuming me the other night in anticipation for today's shoot, and waking up this morning it was still slightly present. Confession: I have a crippling fear of disappointing people I care about. The woman for whom I was doing photos of her daughter for has been my friend for about six years now. I've worked with her and gotten to know her and I've seen her go through ups and downs; she's nothing short of fantastic. Even though she's not someone that I consider extremely close to me (of those there are truly just a handful), our friendship means a lot to me, and the last thing I wanted to do was charge someone for me to disappoint them.

Honestly, I don't charge nearly enough for the work I produce and the effort I put into it, but I have a different belief than most photographers when it comes to shoots and the final product. Photography does not provide my living; I don't depend on gigs and shoots to pay my bills, but I pick up my camera because I enjoy it and there is something about composing a photo and capturing that specific moment in time that will never happen again that is intriguing to me. I also like making people feel wonderful about themselves, and sometimes (mostly for girls) a photo shoot complete with hair and make-up and favorite outfits do the trick. All the shoots I've done, especially senior portraits, I overshoot and choose the best ones after. I do put a cap on how many I'll make drastic edits to (sepia, black and white, etc), however, when I burn the disc, every photo I took (minus any with eyes shut or that are really just not great) goes on the disc. What am I going to do with them? The parents and the models all give me permission to use the photos on my site, and I obviously archive the files, so why not let them enjoy every piece of the day as well? So some of them won't be digitally mastered like the others, but as a parent, they're all going to be beautiful photos. That's their baby, and, chances are, there are some dorky bloopers from light testing that turn out to be adorable photos anyway.

Over lunch (at which I had the BEST beer of my life- regrettably since it's now giving me massive side pains) my friend told me about some other friends of hers that own a photography company, and offered to do the whole package for her - announcements, thank-you cards, invitations, etc. They asked her why she didn't choose them, and she enlightened them. I was the better option because she trusts me, she's comfortable with me, and there is a no-pressure open communication with me. If they had an idea they wanted to try, they both felt that they could tell me and ask me if we can do that, and likewise, there were a few times walking between locations that I'd see a spur of the moment shot, ask her to turn around and snap the shot. Those were some of the best. I was also the better option because she knows she can always come back to me and ask me if I'd design announcements or invitations or send photos out to be professionally printed, and she didn't have to make the decisions on the spot. I suppose this is an extremely terrible business model for me, but it's not a business, so it all works out. Plus, I'm getting referrals out of this and have another senior portrait shoot lined up for two years from now when her youngest graduates high school. SWEEEEEEET.

A few hundred bucks for a few hours of fun? Totally worth it. After writing that it sounds a little dirty, but I promise I'm talking about clean photo shoots, people!

Oh yeah, and happy Star Wars day! May the 4th be with you! (The Catholic school girl in me always wants to say "and also with you" like we did at Peace in Mass every single Friday. Ugh.)

I might post photos. I haven't quite decided yet. What I DO know is that I'm hopping into bed! I had a nice bubble bath with candles and wine, and now this girl needs some sleep! See y'all later!


Saturday, May 3, 2014

Hamster At Large

Y'all better keep your kids and animals in the house, there's a medium-sized rodent at large in my apartment complex. 

Yeah, I can't make this shit up. 

It's about 8:45am, and Leo and I are out for his morning walk. Our building happens to be next to the kids playground area, and there are a few little kids playing. Leo and I walk to his favorite spot on the grass (less than a week and he has a favorite spot already). I noticed that someone's apartment door was propped open, and a couple of the kids (they were all about 5-7 years old) were running back and forth in and out of it. Pretty normal. Not to mention that the weather was beautiful and felt amazing. As soon as we got back I opened all of our windows!

Leo and I make our way back around the complex and are passing the playground area again when a man steps out of the opened apartment yelling at, who I'm assuming was, his daughter. 

Angry Dad:"GRACE! Where is the hamster?!"
(Who I'm assuming was Grace): "He's in his cage!"
Angry Dad: "No he's not! Grace get over here!" ...no response, just more monkey bars... "GRACE I'M NOT JOKING! GET OVER HERE! WHERE IS THE HAMSTER!?"
Grace: "I dunno I guess he got out!"
Angry Dad: "GRACE. The door is open and he's not in his cage! You better start looking for him because I am NOT getting you another one!"

I wasn't sure if at this point Leo was jumping with excitement because we were next to the playground and he adores little kids, or because he heard that a little furry friend he could chase was now on the loose. Probably the former, but this dog is quite surprising. 

We're still near the playground, and Grace yells over to me, "Hey miss! Can I pet your dog?" I said absolutely, just be careful around his leg. Grace walks over, squats down to pet Leo, doesn't take her eyes off of him for a second, and nonchalantly says, "So my hamster escaped his cage and is probably lost now. If you see him could you please make sure your dog doesn't eat him? Thanks!" ...and immediately took off back toward the oversized plastic slide. 

Oh goodness. Now not only are we on the lookout for cats letting themselves into our house under our feet when we open the door (they actually do just bolt in out of nowhere), but now we get to keep an eye out for a loose hamster.

So strange, but I love kids. They're so entertaining. It's fun to think that I was that entertaining at one point!