I've never been the sort to forge a link between personal change with the beginning of something--i.e. New Year's resolutions, starting a diet on Monday, quitting smoking/drinking/inappropriate fornicating after Friday's party, etc. Having subscribed long ago to the belief that self-improvement should begin immediately, posting this blog is, well, a bit stressful. It is officially New Year's Day and it appears, for all intents and purposes, that I have resolved to quit neglecting my blogs. The truth is actually a bit more complex.
A couple of months ago, I realized that I hadn't blogged on this website or my writing blog in a rather long time (although I truly had no idea that it had been well over a year!), so I needed to either resume blogging or shut both down. Well, a few people know that a couple of years ago, I started a novel. The writing website was created to promote myself and eventually the novel. Meanwhile, one kid has graduated from high school, another is set to graduate this spring, and the youngest has been busy being the youngest. Add to that the day-to-day business of running a household, nurturing a marriage, working part time, etc., I haven't given much thought to the details that make me who I am at my core. Throughout my being, I'm a creative, artsy-fartsy sort. So why hadn't I been knitting, writing, or making stuff? Life is the priority. If it couldn't be combined with family time, it simply didn't get done.
For now, the plan is to post here and to the writing blog a few times a week. Most of my handmade stuff will get posted here. The other stuff--memes, real life, fiction, pictures--will go to the other site. But at the end of the day, I cannot predict the outcome of this website or progress on my writing website. All I can really say about it is that I hope I can balance my priorities. Perhaps my responsible self will learn to coexist with my creative self. And really, that's all that any mom/wife/sister/friend/__ can ask for.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Monday, December 6, 2010
"How Do I Look?"*
When you hear "Audrey Hepburn," perhaps you think of...
Although most people probably think of...
But if you want indisputable proof of her beauty, consider this...
* Quote from Hepburn's character, Holly Golightly, in Breakfast at Tiffany's, to which the character, Paul Varjak, replies, "Very good. I must say, I'm amazed."
Although most people probably think of...
But if you want indisputable proof of her beauty, consider this...
* Quote from Hepburn's character, Holly Golightly, in Breakfast at Tiffany's, to which the character, Paul Varjak, replies, "Very good. I must say, I'm amazed."
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Free Reads
We TV premiered a new reality show called "Downsized" (Saturday, 9/8c). It features a blended family of 9, struggling to make ends meet since the economy and housing market took an enormous dump. They've already filed bankruptcy and now they're dumpster diving, scrubbing toilets, and doing whatever they need to in order to get out of their state of poverty.
Although I find some aspects of the family dynamic to be ridiculous (i.e. applying 8% of the family's income toward the youngest daughter's cheerleading, when they barely make rent), a few ideas are pretty darned inspiring. In last week's episode, the mom started a housecleaning business. She's a bit of a wuss, so not only did she undercharge the homeowner, she agreed to bring in her own cleaning supplies. Since the family didn't really have the money to invest in cleaning products, she looked up recipes using common household items like baking soda and vinegar. I've been using both homemade cleansers as well as the commercial varieties, so I paid some attention. Now, for my wood furniture, I'm partial to Pledge. It's a throwback to my days as a wee one. Since my bathtub isn't connected to the shower and I don't have an extendable nozzle for it, I prefer baking soda and Dawn because everything is a pain in the hindquarters to rinse, and if I don't rinse as well as I should, it'd probably be better to soak in a tub laced with baking soda and dish soap than a tub of Soft Scrub. Anyway, when you're looking at a lady and her kids who are used to paying someone $125 to clean the house, it's pretty neat to watch them switch gears and choose responsibility over self-pity (in which they occasionally indulge). Anyway, it all got me thinking that even though my family is doing okay these days, saving money is never really a bad idea.
Last year, I went on a magazine and novel diet. When I learned that I was spending up to $175(!) a month on novels, I knew that I had to put the kibosh on that and really analyze how I spent the family's money. So for a month, I decided that I wouldn't buy any magazines or novels for myself. That meant learning to limit myself to window shopping at Barnes & Noble and Half Price Books, undoing habits that I didn't even realize I were ingrained.
The city libraries made it so much easier. It seems that almost any title I'm interested in is available at the library, including a few magazines I enjoy, such as Self. I come from a city with the worst library so this is truly a breath of fresh air. The big prince's school has a public library on its campus, so I often send my checked out items to school with him so he may return them for me. They also have a decent stock of ebooks, so I've spent very little on books for my reader. In fact, last summer, I kept myself up to my armpits in ebooks from 1,250 miles away. The first three weeks were pretty easy, but I almost fell off the wagon on the 28th day. The book section at Wal-Mart called to me like the donut shop next to the Jenny Craig. However, with some help from my step-princess, I stayed on track. So I did what any intelligent, victorious woman would do--I extended the diet. For four month, I didn't buy a magazine or a book.
When I did give myself permission to buy a book, my standards raised to the point where for weeks, I couldn't decide on a book to buy. When I finally did, I felt horrible about it, like I had betrayed my family. Eventually, book shopping became easier until I could finally shop with wild abandon again (although not to the tune of $175 a month).
So here it is, a year later, and I'm back on the magazine and novel diet. The trigger? After watching "Downsized," I autumn-cleaned my house. The number of magazines that went to recycling and the library swap bin was astounding. Many dollars over the last few months gone down the drain. The two exceptions are knitting books and magazines (same exeption as the last diet) and Runner's World (since the library doesn't carry it and Half Price Books seldom gets recent copies, plus I plan to actually subscribe to two knitting magazines and RW). Maybe it seems ridiculous to feel so good about doing something so small, but I've learned that small things can lead to more small things until everything together equals big change.
Although I find some aspects of the family dynamic to be ridiculous (i.e. applying 8% of the family's income toward the youngest daughter's cheerleading, when they barely make rent), a few ideas are pretty darned inspiring. In last week's episode, the mom started a housecleaning business. She's a bit of a wuss, so not only did she undercharge the homeowner, she agreed to bring in her own cleaning supplies. Since the family didn't really have the money to invest in cleaning products, she looked up recipes using common household items like baking soda and vinegar. I've been using both homemade cleansers as well as the commercial varieties, so I paid some attention. Now, for my wood furniture, I'm partial to Pledge. It's a throwback to my days as a wee one. Since my bathtub isn't connected to the shower and I don't have an extendable nozzle for it, I prefer baking soda and Dawn because everything is a pain in the hindquarters to rinse, and if I don't rinse as well as I should, it'd probably be better to soak in a tub laced with baking soda and dish soap than a tub of Soft Scrub. Anyway, when you're looking at a lady and her kids who are used to paying someone $125 to clean the house, it's pretty neat to watch them switch gears and choose responsibility over self-pity (in which they occasionally indulge). Anyway, it all got me thinking that even though my family is doing okay these days, saving money is never really a bad idea.
Last year, I went on a magazine and novel diet. When I learned that I was spending up to $175(!) a month on novels, I knew that I had to put the kibosh on that and really analyze how I spent the family's money. So for a month, I decided that I wouldn't buy any magazines or novels for myself. That meant learning to limit myself to window shopping at Barnes & Noble and Half Price Books, undoing habits that I didn't even realize I were ingrained.
The city libraries made it so much easier. It seems that almost any title I'm interested in is available at the library, including a few magazines I enjoy, such as Self. I come from a city with the worst library so this is truly a breath of fresh air. The big prince's school has a public library on its campus, so I often send my checked out items to school with him so he may return them for me. They also have a decent stock of ebooks, so I've spent very little on books for my reader. In fact, last summer, I kept myself up to my armpits in ebooks from 1,250 miles away. The first three weeks were pretty easy, but I almost fell off the wagon on the 28th day. The book section at Wal-Mart called to me like the donut shop next to the Jenny Craig. However, with some help from my step-princess, I stayed on track. So I did what any intelligent, victorious woman would do--I extended the diet. For four month, I didn't buy a magazine or a book.
When I did give myself permission to buy a book, my standards raised to the point where for weeks, I couldn't decide on a book to buy. When I finally did, I felt horrible about it, like I had betrayed my family. Eventually, book shopping became easier until I could finally shop with wild abandon again (although not to the tune of $175 a month).
So here it is, a year later, and I'm back on the magazine and novel diet. The trigger? After watching "Downsized," I autumn-cleaned my house. The number of magazines that went to recycling and the library swap bin was astounding. Many dollars over the last few months gone down the drain. The two exceptions are knitting books and magazines (same exeption as the last diet) and Runner's World (since the library doesn't carry it and Half Price Books seldom gets recent copies, plus I plan to actually subscribe to two knitting magazines and RW). Maybe it seems ridiculous to feel so good about doing something so small, but I've learned that small things can lead to more small things until everything together equals big change.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Mother Knows Best (and I've been called a mutha...)
After the kiddos hit the sack last night, I roamed my Blogger dashboard and rediscovered my former blog. For no identifiable reason, I read the posts. Perhaps such nostalgia should have been saved for the daylight hours. Well, live and learn.
One of the posts from May 2008 announces a trip to California to accompany my then ailing mum to various medical appointments. I remember knowing that something was terribly wrong with her and believing that the solution was as simple as an accurate diagnosis.
Skip ahead to the next post, a month and a half later. I composed it 8 hours before my mom died. As I reread my words, everything flooded back--worry, anger, resentment, and above all else, fear. And my fight-or-flight reflexes kicked in. Here I am, years later, Pandora's Box open wide. Last night, every muscle raged to kick things, scream, call my mum's doctors to remind them of what I've lost.
But one thing that 36 years with my mum plus 2 1/2 years without her have taught me is that sometimes your first instinct could be entirely wrong. Everything looks different in the natural light so it may be best to step back and really analyze the situation. I took a scalding-hot shower and thought that if it's 1 A.M. here, then it's only 11 P.M. in California, so it wouldn't do any good to call the hospital with my rants because I probably wouldn't be waking anyone up (never mind that the offices were closed, anyway). And what's the point of a middle-of-the-night rant if you're not making someone on the other end miserable?
Today is sunny and cool, the air is fairly still. Basically, it's a perfect day in Texas, providing what Mum would agree is the perfect light. Everyone looks amazing and perfect on a day like today and troubles, well, it's much easier to remember that they're temporary. Everything is.
It's over 12 hours since my "episode." I spent the morning having coffee with two of the most amazing women I have the privilege to know, followed by an hour of listening to my boy's school rave about how fantastic he is. Yes, I'm still miffed about my mum getting the shaft, but she promised me that everything would be fine, and she was right.
Same blog, six months later, exactly two years ago from today... I declared the Year of Michelle. At the time, I figured that if I could make myself a "better" person and make good things happen for myself, good things would happen for others around me as a result. I've spent two years stage-hopping through grief, while the Year of Michelle took a backseat to other priorities.
But without even trying, things have changed for me. My family and I have shared around a zillion laughs, my kiddos reached milestones, I've become kinder and less judgmental, and I have a much closer relationship with my dad. I've overcome my fear of singing in public (well, sort of), become more fiscally responsible, read some of the best strings of written words, and found a way to pay homage to the females who mean everything to me.
So really, Year of Michelle rolls on. I'll continue to hammer out power ballads on my drums, drive like the old lady in Ferris Bueller's Day Off, alert people who have food between their teeth or toilet paper from their shoes, and marvel at how a smartass like me has such sweet, helpful, disciplined, well-rounded kiddos.
One more task is added to the mix. I will no longer take peaceful moments for granted. It's one thing to notice a pretty flower when you're walking past it, but it's quite another to actually stop and smell it. So I challenge you to do the same. Every now and then, just stop to consider that everything is actually okay. And if it isn't, then it will be. I assure you of this because my mum told me so.
One of the posts from May 2008 announces a trip to California to accompany my then ailing mum to various medical appointments. I remember knowing that something was terribly wrong with her and believing that the solution was as simple as an accurate diagnosis.
Skip ahead to the next post, a month and a half later. I composed it 8 hours before my mom died. As I reread my words, everything flooded back--worry, anger, resentment, and above all else, fear. And my fight-or-flight reflexes kicked in. Here I am, years later, Pandora's Box open wide. Last night, every muscle raged to kick things, scream, call my mum's doctors to remind them of what I've lost.
But one thing that 36 years with my mum plus 2 1/2 years without her have taught me is that sometimes your first instinct could be entirely wrong. Everything looks different in the natural light so it may be best to step back and really analyze the situation. I took a scalding-hot shower and thought that if it's 1 A.M. here, then it's only 11 P.M. in California, so it wouldn't do any good to call the hospital with my rants because I probably wouldn't be waking anyone up (never mind that the offices were closed, anyway). And what's the point of a middle-of-the-night rant if you're not making someone on the other end miserable?
Today is sunny and cool, the air is fairly still. Basically, it's a perfect day in Texas, providing what Mum would agree is the perfect light. Everyone looks amazing and perfect on a day like today and troubles, well, it's much easier to remember that they're temporary. Everything is.
It's over 12 hours since my "episode." I spent the morning having coffee with two of the most amazing women I have the privilege to know, followed by an hour of listening to my boy's school rave about how fantastic he is. Yes, I'm still miffed about my mum getting the shaft, but she promised me that everything would be fine, and she was right.
Same blog, six months later, exactly two years ago from today... I declared the Year of Michelle. At the time, I figured that if I could make myself a "better" person and make good things happen for myself, good things would happen for others around me as a result. I've spent two years stage-hopping through grief, while the Year of Michelle took a backseat to other priorities.
But without even trying, things have changed for me. My family and I have shared around a zillion laughs, my kiddos reached milestones, I've become kinder and less judgmental, and I have a much closer relationship with my dad. I've overcome my fear of singing in public (well, sort of), become more fiscally responsible, read some of the best strings of written words, and found a way to pay homage to the females who mean everything to me.
So really, Year of Michelle rolls on. I'll continue to hammer out power ballads on my drums, drive like the old lady in Ferris Bueller's Day Off, alert people who have food between their teeth or toilet paper from their shoes, and marvel at how a smartass like me has such sweet, helpful, disciplined, well-rounded kiddos.
One more task is added to the mix. I will no longer take peaceful moments for granted. It's one thing to notice a pretty flower when you're walking past it, but it's quite another to actually stop and smell it. So I challenge you to do the same. Every now and then, just stop to consider that everything is actually okay. And if it isn't, then it will be. I assure you of this because my mum told me so.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
What Are Ya Gonna Do? *shrugs*
Over a year ago, I went on a password-changing spree. It's a good idea to change passwords on various accounts every now and then, since we live in a world of some serious whackadoodles who have no issue with sucking the fun out of all things online. Anyhoo, this created issues with accessing my blog. Every time I've wanted to post, I have had to change my password. It's a pain in the nethers. My solution? Kick the dirt, pout, then move on.
I'm sitting with my breakfast sandwich (1/4 cup egg whites, an egg, garlic, green onion, a wedge of Laughing Cow Light Swiss, on two slices of Double-Fiber bread). As I took the first bite, I thought about some of my strange habits. For example, I cut my sandwiches into triangles (rectangles have been known to disturb me*) and eat the piece with the rounded top first. Why? Because I favor the half with three points so I save it for last.
When I go to the bookstore, I always troll in the same order: periodicals, exercise and makeup books, knitting and sewing books, reference, graphic novels, kids' books (if I have kiddos with me), then novels. If I'm purchasing, I do so in the cafe where I order a soy latte. My route moves me through the store in a clockwise manner. Since breaking habits is supposed to be good for the brain, I have tried to change up the order a few times. But that left me feeling unsettled.
Between this post and Ravelry trolling, I've spent enough time to safely get off my bum and move around rigorously. I changed my password for this? Neat-o.
*Note: I have no issue when someone else makes a sandwich for me then cuts it into rectangles. I'm not one to look a gift-horse in the mouth.
I'm sitting with my breakfast sandwich (1/4 cup egg whites, an egg, garlic, green onion, a wedge of Laughing Cow Light Swiss, on two slices of Double-Fiber bread). As I took the first bite, I thought about some of my strange habits. For example, I cut my sandwiches into triangles (rectangles have been known to disturb me*) and eat the piece with the rounded top first. Why? Because I favor the half with three points so I save it for last.
When I go to the bookstore, I always troll in the same order: periodicals, exercise and makeup books, knitting and sewing books, reference, graphic novels, kids' books (if I have kiddos with me), then novels. If I'm purchasing, I do so in the cafe where I order a soy latte. My route moves me through the store in a clockwise manner. Since breaking habits is supposed to be good for the brain, I have tried to change up the order a few times. But that left me feeling unsettled.
Between this post and Ravelry trolling, I've spent enough time to safely get off my bum and move around rigorously. I changed my password for this? Neat-o.
*Note: I have no issue when someone else makes a sandwich for me then cuts it into rectangles. I'm not one to look a gift-horse in the mouth.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Aye, Me Bum!
Simple rules when faced with trying times:
1. Acknowledge the feeling.
2. Embrace it.
3. Release it.
Easy. I turn to this list when something makes me sad, angry, or even confused. Of late, however, there is one thing that has me completely baffled to the point where I can't even name the feeling...
Aging.
I would never want to be the head-in-the-clouds dumbass that I was at 21 (although I wouldn't mind having my 21-year-old ass back). But dang, it was so easy to take things for granted. Pimple before a date? Smack some concealer on it! A little too much to love around the middle? Why, add four more sit-ups to the routine and drink more water! Bender the night before? A couple of aspirin and greasy tacos! Aches and pains? What are those?!
As I approach 40, the answers change. Pimple before one of three dates a year with my husband? Why the heck am I still getting pimples! A little too much to love around the middle? To my children: Yeah, you're welcome! Bender the night before? The nights are perfect for catching up on chores, TiVo, and crashing out on the couch to wake up at 3 AM with a magazine page stuck to my face! Aches and pains? Aye, where do I begin?
When I was 21, I had no idea that how you age isn't so much about making a conscious decision to grow old gracefully, but rather a culmination of little decisions that lead to how well we age. For example, when faced with the decision to either go to the gym or take the day off, well, in the grand scheme of things, one day might not look like it would make a difference. But overall, that one workout takes you one workout closer to your overall goal. Applying that same logic, skipping that one workout can keep you one workout away from your overall goal. And there is nothing wrong with taking the middle road--resting and doing half a workout. But when faced with choices--i.e. hit the gym or head into downtown Frankfurt with friends--I generally chose the latter. I don't regret it, but it's something to think about.
At 28, I came to realize that the popular people on TV were, for the most part, younger than I. This realization sucked because I was a single mom and I wasn't ready to feel old.
On my 30th birthday, I took the day off from work. The kiddos were in school and the fella who is now my husband was sleeping so I went to a park and cried (a bit dramatic, considering it was just about crossing the threshold into another decade). Then I took a nap.
Now whenever I hang out with my step-daughter who is now 16, I am constantly reminded (although silently, unintentionally, and without malice) that I am getting older. Older. Hm.
Okay, so bad decisions and theatrics aside, what about aging? We can't avoid it. Sure, our physical appearances do...whatever. But why am I so hung up on it? Because weird things are happening to my body. I'm not talking about puberty or menopause, I'm just saying that some things now point to my shoes and other things have developed strange aches in places I didn't know aches could exist. And despite my efforts, stuff happens. Gravity. Muscle pains that don't make sense (like, my calves are sore after BodyPump--geez). And you know what I find even weirder about aging? I'm living healthier than I ever have and weird things are still happening. I floss daily, I drink water, I exercise, I wear sunblock.
1. Acknowledge the feeling.
2. Embrace it.
3. Release it.
Easy. I turn to this list when something makes me sad, angry, or even confused. Of late, however, there is one thing that has me completely baffled to the point where I can't even name the feeling...
Aging.
I would never want to be the head-in-the-clouds dumbass that I was at 21 (although I wouldn't mind having my 21-year-old ass back). But dang, it was so easy to take things for granted. Pimple before a date? Smack some concealer on it! A little too much to love around the middle? Why, add four more sit-ups to the routine and drink more water! Bender the night before? A couple of aspirin and greasy tacos! Aches and pains? What are those?!
As I approach 40, the answers change. Pimple before one of three dates a year with my husband? Why the heck am I still getting pimples! A little too much to love around the middle? To my children: Yeah, you're welcome! Bender the night before? The nights are perfect for catching up on chores, TiVo, and crashing out on the couch to wake up at 3 AM with a magazine page stuck to my face! Aches and pains? Aye, where do I begin?
When I was 21, I had no idea that how you age isn't so much about making a conscious decision to grow old gracefully, but rather a culmination of little decisions that lead to how well we age. For example, when faced with the decision to either go to the gym or take the day off, well, in the grand scheme of things, one day might not look like it would make a difference. But overall, that one workout takes you one workout closer to your overall goal. Applying that same logic, skipping that one workout can keep you one workout away from your overall goal. And there is nothing wrong with taking the middle road--resting and doing half a workout. But when faced with choices--i.e. hit the gym or head into downtown Frankfurt with friends--I generally chose the latter. I don't regret it, but it's something to think about.
At 28, I came to realize that the popular people on TV were, for the most part, younger than I. This realization sucked because I was a single mom and I wasn't ready to feel old.
On my 30th birthday, I took the day off from work. The kiddos were in school and the fella who is now my husband was sleeping so I went to a park and cried (a bit dramatic, considering it was just about crossing the threshold into another decade). Then I took a nap.
Now whenever I hang out with my step-daughter who is now 16, I am constantly reminded (although silently, unintentionally, and without malice) that I am getting older. Older. Hm.
Okay, so bad decisions and theatrics aside, what about aging? We can't avoid it. Sure, our physical appearances do...whatever. But why am I so hung up on it? Because weird things are happening to my body. I'm not talking about puberty or menopause, I'm just saying that some things now point to my shoes and other things have developed strange aches in places I didn't know aches could exist. And despite my efforts, stuff happens. Gravity. Muscle pains that don't make sense (like, my calves are sore after BodyPump--geez). And you know what I find even weirder about aging? I'm living healthier than I ever have and weird things are still happening. I floss daily, I drink water, I exercise, I wear sunblock.
There is no choice between being a dumb animal of 21 or a wise neurotic of one's late 30s. And while I have acquired years of wisdom and accomplishment, I still stand around and wonder, why do my bum muscles ache like they took a bum whooping? Hm.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
[Insert Clever Blog Title Here]
I can't wrap my head around the fact that we are already in the throes of June 2010. Seriously. This blog has been neglected since February and this very idea cracks me up. While I would love to attribute this hilarious (in my mind) fact to a jam-packed schedule of kids' activities, volunteer work, and running a household, the simple truth is that I received an iPhone for my birthday. So, not only am I one of those annoying douchebags with an iPhone, but the dang thing has kept me from needing a PC. I Facebook on that thing, as well as check my Twitter, Yahoo! IM, and even keep updated on Good Reads. Well, I bank on a PC, but that's been pretty much it. I did try to blog on my iPhone once and that didn't go over too well. The problem? I had forgotten my Blogger password. Geez.
So I am back on a PC. Why? Well, my office/craft room is starting to take shape. Shortly after my mom died, my dad came out here with a big ol' trailer packed with her stuff. We unloaded it into the garage and into this room, but the wounds hadn't scabbed over yet so I couldn't really walk in here without a meltdown. Things changed gradually and now, well, it's still a mess, but it's a bit more of an organized mess, if that makes sense. I recorded a video of the room before I started moving things around. Maybe I'll get around to posting it and shooting another one to show the progress. Believe me, you needed a road map or a trail of bread crumbs to navigate your way out of here at one point.
Things are going to be a little busier this fall. I am now a Girl Scout troop leader (stop laughing) and have two jobs with the PTA (stop laughing). However, I'm not one to take on more than I can reasonably handle, so these new things should keep me out of trouble next year (really, stop laughing). As for the summer, busy, busy, busy, as summers generally are. It's Mija's first legitimate summer vacation, so we're spending lots of time at the library, as well as other places with central AC. I will probably try to find work in August, since I really want Senor to go back to school next year. We'll see.
It's sprinkling/raining, but I promised Mijo that we would go to the gym. So until next time, hasta lluego.
So I am back on a PC. Why? Well, my office/craft room is starting to take shape. Shortly after my mom died, my dad came out here with a big ol' trailer packed with her stuff. We unloaded it into the garage and into this room, but the wounds hadn't scabbed over yet so I couldn't really walk in here without a meltdown. Things changed gradually and now, well, it's still a mess, but it's a bit more of an organized mess, if that makes sense. I recorded a video of the room before I started moving things around. Maybe I'll get around to posting it and shooting another one to show the progress. Believe me, you needed a road map or a trail of bread crumbs to navigate your way out of here at one point.
Things are going to be a little busier this fall. I am now a Girl Scout troop leader (stop laughing) and have two jobs with the PTA (stop laughing). However, I'm not one to take on more than I can reasonably handle, so these new things should keep me out of trouble next year (really, stop laughing). As for the summer, busy, busy, busy, as summers generally are. It's Mija's first legitimate summer vacation, so we're spending lots of time at the library, as well as other places with central AC. I will probably try to find work in August, since I really want Senor to go back to school next year. We'll see.
It's sprinkling/raining, but I promised Mijo that we would go to the gym. So until next time, hasta lluego.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Man Vs. Couch
I'm not a big fan of the gym in January. It is a natural part of American life to make New Year's resolutions, one of them being to lose weight. While I'm all for people getting off the couch and putting down the Velveeta, I hate the gym congestion. People galore! Wall-to-wall people determined to make this year's resolution stick--for a few weeks, anyway.
Since I can't just ditch the gym completely, I avoid it during the weekends. My light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel was February, since that's when people start falling off and the gym starts returning to normal.
A few weeks ago, I went to a BodyPump class on Thursday and found the class size to be shockingly normal. Hooray! People were flaking already.
That's when it hit. I actually felt sad. If the gym was returning to normal, that meant that people weren't making it beyond a full month on their road to better health. The couch and TV won. Diabetes won. Obesity won. That means people lose the battle.
Of course, last Thursday, BodyPump was so packed that I couldn't get in the door. *sigh* People...!
C'mon, March!
Since I can't just ditch the gym completely, I avoid it during the weekends. My light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel was February, since that's when people start falling off and the gym starts returning to normal.
A few weeks ago, I went to a BodyPump class on Thursday and found the class size to be shockingly normal. Hooray! People were flaking already.
That's when it hit. I actually felt sad. If the gym was returning to normal, that meant that people weren't making it beyond a full month on their road to better health. The couch and TV won. Diabetes won. Obesity won. That means people lose the battle.
Of course, last Thursday, BodyPump was so packed that I couldn't get in the door. *sigh* People...!
C'mon, March!
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Name Brand Versus Store Brand, Part 1
For the last few years, I've been on a bit of a Suze Orman kick. It sure does suck when times are lean, so it's nice to have some money-saving strategies to prevent sleep loss (sleep loss results in darker undereye circles, which means you have to spend more money on concealer...you get my drift).
A few months ago, I started a personal "Name Brand Versus Store Brand" campaign, an effort to learn what products are worth springing some extra dough on, and where a few pennies can be pinched. So far, the results have been interesting. While I have tested many different items, I'm only going over a few.
Comparison 1:
Kraft Macaroni & Cheese vs. Hill Country Fare Macaroni & Cheese (from HEB)
Macaroni & cheese is a prime example of nitrates at their tastiest. Face it, boxed mac & cheese is a guilty pleasure that we can indulge in once in a while. Granted, some of the vegan lines have produced healthier versions of this fine fare, but I'm not talking about any of that stuff. Anyway, Hill Country Fare is around $.20 less than the Kraft brand, margarine and milk are added in the same quantities, and the tastes and textures are the same. Since I tend to purchase four boxes at a time, I'm sticking with the Hill Country Fare. FYI, I also tried Market Pantry (from Target) mac & cheese and was equally impressed.
Comparison 2:
Oreo Double-Stuff sandwhich cookies vs. Market Pantry Cookies n' Double Cream (from Target)
If you're grabbing Double Stuff Oreos from the shelf, odds are you want some extra cream between your crispy cookies (is my mind alone in the gutter, or did that sound naughty?). Anyway, Market Pantry's crisp cookie and creamy center (*sigh*) compare in both taste and texture to the name brand; however, Market Pantry skimps on the creamy center. It's pretty much like a regular sandwich cookie. Since I'm a cookie twister, I look for that extra cream. So in this case, I'm going to have to side with the Oreos. It's a shame, since Market Pantry sandwich cookies are just $1.99/package.
Comparison 3:
Neutrogena The Sensual Moisturizer Body Oil vs. Hill Country Essentials Body Oil (from HEB)
With a price difference of over a dollar for an entire product, this was worth looking into. The ingredient lists are identical, although I'm sure the proportions of said ingredients are different. In HEB, I unscrewed both caps and took a sniff of each oil. I've always liked the smell of the Neutrogena oil, and while the Hill Country oil had a similar smell, there was something about it that was...weird. I couldn't quite figure it out, maybe the smell is stronger or more floral, and I'm still unsure. I bought it anyway, thinking that if it sucked, I'd simply return it. Sesame oil has decent moisturizing benefits and it doesn't clog pores.
I keep the oil in my gym bag and use it after "Shower, Pt. 1" (more on that some other time, but I really do call it that) while my skin is still damp, then head into the steam room. (Yes, I know I shouldn't use products in the steam room. I guess I am a little naughty. No present from Santa for me.) Without the Neutrogena oil at the ready for a comparison, I could no longer distinguish the difference in smell between the two products. The Hill Country oil works just as effectively as the the Neutrogena, too. Both products fall into that a-little-goes-a-long-way category, so for the savings, I'm going to stick with the Hill Country stuff.
There are a few things that I simply won't compromise, regardless of savings.
A few months ago, I started a personal "Name Brand Versus Store Brand" campaign, an effort to learn what products are worth springing some extra dough on, and where a few pennies can be pinched. So far, the results have been interesting. While I have tested many different items, I'm only going over a few.
Comparison 1:
Kraft Macaroni & Cheese vs. Hill Country Fare Macaroni & Cheese (from HEB)
Macaroni & cheese is a prime example of nitrates at their tastiest. Face it, boxed mac & cheese is a guilty pleasure that we can indulge in once in a while. Granted, some of the vegan lines have produced healthier versions of this fine fare, but I'm not talking about any of that stuff. Anyway, Hill Country Fare is around $.20 less than the Kraft brand, margarine and milk are added in the same quantities, and the tastes and textures are the same. Since I tend to purchase four boxes at a time, I'm sticking with the Hill Country Fare. FYI, I also tried Market Pantry (from Target) mac & cheese and was equally impressed.
Comparison 2:
Oreo Double-Stuff sandwhich cookies vs. Market Pantry Cookies n' Double Cream (from Target)
If you're grabbing Double Stuff Oreos from the shelf, odds are you want some extra cream between your crispy cookies (is my mind alone in the gutter, or did that sound naughty?). Anyway, Market Pantry's crisp cookie and creamy center (*sigh*) compare in both taste and texture to the name brand; however, Market Pantry skimps on the creamy center. It's pretty much like a regular sandwich cookie. Since I'm a cookie twister, I look for that extra cream. So in this case, I'm going to have to side with the Oreos. It's a shame, since Market Pantry sandwich cookies are just $1.99/package.
Comparison 3:
Neutrogena The Sensual Moisturizer Body Oil vs. Hill Country Essentials Body Oil (from HEB)
With a price difference of over a dollar for an entire product, this was worth looking into. The ingredient lists are identical, although I'm sure the proportions of said ingredients are different. In HEB, I unscrewed both caps and took a sniff of each oil. I've always liked the smell of the Neutrogena oil, and while the Hill Country oil had a similar smell, there was something about it that was...weird. I couldn't quite figure it out, maybe the smell is stronger or more floral, and I'm still unsure. I bought it anyway, thinking that if it sucked, I'd simply return it. Sesame oil has decent moisturizing benefits and it doesn't clog pores.
I keep the oil in my gym bag and use it after "Shower, Pt. 1" (more on that some other time, but I really do call it that) while my skin is still damp, then head into the steam room. (Yes, I know I shouldn't use products in the steam room. I guess I am a little naughty. No present from Santa for me.) Without the Neutrogena oil at the ready for a comparison, I could no longer distinguish the difference in smell between the two products. The Hill Country oil works just as effectively as the the Neutrogena, too. Both products fall into that a-little-goes-a-long-way category, so for the savings, I'm going to stick with the Hill Country stuff.
There are a few things that I simply won't compromise, regardless of savings.
- Q-Tips (My husband is no longer allowed to buy cotton swabs because twice he bought store brand instead of J & J, as I requested. Other brands are simply sticks with a little fuzz attached to the ends.)
- Aquaphor (This stuff is so good for keeping skin nice when the weather suddenly shifts. Plus, it moisturizes lips and keeps tattoos nice.)
- Tampons (Reasons are obvious. I do some strange things that may embarrass the average adult, but even returning unused tampons to the store because they're terrible is beyond my scope.)
NOTE: All products mentioned in this post were purchased by my family with our money. We do not represent any of the companies listed; we were not sent free products by said companies; we are in no way compensated for this blog post. All opinions expressed in this blog post are honest the sole property of me.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Summoning My Inner Holiday Cheerleader
Christmas is not my favorite holiday. It's commercialized, people in the malls are even more douchey than usual, blah, blah, blah. The truth is, no matter how much I don't want to like Christmas, it's hard to maintain a crappy attitude when you have a 5-year old and a 14-year old who love all things Christmas and are charming and sweet about the whole thing. Therefore, I suppose it can be said that I am warming up to this particular holiday.
Sometime next week, I will devote an entire 6-hour block (when the kiddos are at school) to gift wrapping. Although the cold front will be but a memory, I will head out for a quick run, throw on some comfy yoga pants (after a shower, indeed), and cram as many marshmallows as humanly possible into my coffee. However, the most important step in the gift-wrapping process is my video playlist. My Christmas video playlist consists of films that may not focus on Christmas, but it's at least mentionted, and the movies themselves make me feel pretty darned good. Here goes.
1. It's a Wonderful Life--Duh, right? I mean, this movie is genius, pure genius. I love a sweet remake of a classic anyway, but what makes this movie extra special for me can be summed up in two words--James Stewart. When you combine him with Frank Capra, you get magic. And yes, "...whenever a bell rings, an angel gets his wings." Just bear in mind that whenever someone rolls his/her eyes at the contents of my blog, an angel's wings catch fire. I'm just sayin'.
2. The Family Man--One of Nicolas Cage's finest films, definitely underrated. One of the things I love about this story is that Jack Campbell's life-assuming-he-went-to-London isn't really bad. I mean, there isn't anything wrong with it. He is simply shown an alternative to that life. Don Cheadle plays a great angel.
3. Serendipity--There are so many things I love about this movie, I don't know where to begin. John Corbett's hair doesn't make the list. Anyway, the plot is clever. And Christmas shopping at Bloomingdales? They could have done worse. Even Molly Shannon didn't ruin the movie.
4. Love Actually--I don't even have to give an explanation, do I? I mean, even the soundtrack is exquisite.
5. A Charlie Brown Christmas--This is seriously one of the best Christmas movies ever made. Ever. Seriously. It doesn't contain any of that Oh-Santa-is-in-trouble-and-we-can't-have-Christmas-without-him! crap. Instead, it shows the true meaning of Christmas through a grody little tree. I love the fact that Charlie Brown chooses a tree because, well, it needs someone to give it a chance; it is fan-bloody-tastic. After the other kids laugh Charlie Brown out of the scene, Linus gives them the score. I.Love.It.
At the end of the day, I hope that all of you are hanging in there and enjoying the holidays. Some things are beyond our control, so I hope you find solace to cope in those areas, or at least aren't stressing too much about them. May your health be excellent and your heart full of love.
Sometime next week, I will devote an entire 6-hour block (when the kiddos are at school) to gift wrapping. Although the cold front will be but a memory, I will head out for a quick run, throw on some comfy yoga pants (after a shower, indeed), and cram as many marshmallows as humanly possible into my coffee. However, the most important step in the gift-wrapping process is my video playlist. My Christmas video playlist consists of films that may not focus on Christmas, but it's at least mentionted, and the movies themselves make me feel pretty darned good. Here goes.
1. It's a Wonderful Life--Duh, right? I mean, this movie is genius, pure genius. I love a sweet remake of a classic anyway, but what makes this movie extra special for me can be summed up in two words--James Stewart. When you combine him with Frank Capra, you get magic. And yes, "...whenever a bell rings, an angel gets his wings." Just bear in mind that whenever someone rolls his/her eyes at the contents of my blog, an angel's wings catch fire. I'm just sayin'.2. The Family Man--One of Nicolas Cage's finest films, definitely underrated. One of the things I love about this story is that Jack Campbell's life-assuming-he-went-to-London isn't really bad. I mean, there isn't anything wrong with it. He is simply shown an alternative to that life. Don Cheadle plays a great angel.
3. Serendipity--There are so many things I love about this movie, I don't know where to begin. John Corbett's hair doesn't make the list. Anyway, the plot is clever. And Christmas shopping at Bloomingdales? They could have done worse. Even Molly Shannon didn't ruin the movie.
4. Love Actually--I don't even have to give an explanation, do I? I mean, even the soundtrack is exquisite.
5. A Charlie Brown Christmas--This is seriously one of the best Christmas movies ever made. Ever. Seriously. It doesn't contain any of that Oh-Santa-is-in-trouble-and-we-can't-have-Christmas-without-him! crap. Instead, it shows the true meaning of Christmas through a grody little tree. I love the fact that Charlie Brown chooses a tree because, well, it needs someone to give it a chance; it is fan-bloody-tastic. After the other kids laugh Charlie Brown out of the scene, Linus gives them the score. I.Love.It.
At the end of the day, I hope that all of you are hanging in there and enjoying the holidays. Some things are beyond our control, so I hope you find solace to cope in those areas, or at least aren't stressing too much about them. May your health be excellent and your heart full of love.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
An Adult's Guide To Black Friday
The cold hard truth about Black Friday is that the stores really don't slash prices much (with the exception of televisions and large appliances). Black Friday is about the atmosphere. There's a ton of energy in the air and a strange kind of excitement. This is for the newbs and those who dread heading out, but do it anyway.
Friday, November 13, 2009
For the Nosey People Out There...
I am pretty nosey by nature and I believe that pretty much everyone is (even if they won't admit it). Lately, I'm enjoying the "What's in my purse" posts on YouTube, and have watched many gals spill the contents of their purses. Some people carry some wacky stuff (not judging!). Big bags, little bags...It's all in good fun.
Anyway, I decided to post the contents of my bag. Enjoy! (Unless, of course, you have no interest in knowing about the junk I carry around. I confess that it's not that exciting.)
Anyway, I decided to post the contents of my bag. Enjoy! (Unless, of course, you have no interest in knowing about the junk I carry around. I confess that it's not that exciting.)
Monday, November 2, 2009
Life Goes On
I have been on the fence about posting this blog because I don't want it to bring anyone down. Rather, I wish to offer hope and perspective to someone who may need it. If I come across as obtuse or distant, it is unintentional.
Last August marked the one-year anniversary of my mom's death. Therefore, we are on round two of the stuff that she's missing, i.e. her birthday (last month). Here are a few conclusions I have reached over the last 14 months in regards to living after someone important has died:
1. If you have a spouse, child or a decent relationship with your parent(s), then you probably know how it feels to love someone more every single day. Well, this increasing love doesn't stop when someone dies.
2. Time doesn't heal all wounds. I don't feel any "better" about my mom's death; I've just learned how to deal with it and live differently. I still have moments of despair, but they sure aren't every single day.
3. My mom's death has forced me to take inventory of the things that truly matter, things that I actually believe, and unanswerable questions that I need to accept.
Last August marked the one-year anniversary of my mom's death. Therefore, we are on round two of the stuff that she's missing, i.e. her birthday (last month). Here are a few conclusions I have reached over the last 14 months in regards to living after someone important has died:
1. If you have a spouse, child or a decent relationship with your parent(s), then you probably know how it feels to love someone more every single day. Well, this increasing love doesn't stop when someone dies.
2. Time doesn't heal all wounds. I don't feel any "better" about my mom's death; I've just learned how to deal with it and live differently. I still have moments of despair, but they sure aren't every single day.
3. My mom's death has forced me to take inventory of the things that truly matter, things that I actually believe, and unanswerable questions that I need to accept.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
What the...?!
Misogyny is everywhere--I get that. Never mind that we are in 2009 and are an evolved society. But seriously, did girl-bashing have to invade the candy aisle?
I spotted this gem in the British(-inspired) foods end cap at my local HEB. There are several things about this candy bar that bother me.
1. The image of the female is not only wearing a short skirt, but carrying a tiny purse, as well. Talk about a stereotype. If said image corresponds to the slogan, "It's not for girls!" then can a grown woman with kiddos and a stretchier body enjoy this candy? Really, almost every mom I know carries a bag so big that it should probably have its own wheels. Plus, some of us who've had multiple pregnancies still have a body that has no business wearing anything that short. I'm just sayin'. Also, the girl could at least have hair on her head.
2. Yes, this may be some sort of reverse psychology--I mean, who markets chocolate to men and not women?--but assuming that it's not, the nutritional facts are located in the usual place, with the calorie count (over 350[!] for all 5 pieces) in big numbers right next to the slogan. Unfortunately, I channeled my inner male when I bought this. In other words, I ate a piece (or two, or three...) before I read the label. Whatever.
3. For all intents and purposes, it's tasty. Yeah, I said it.
4. I bought misogynistic candy. Effing hormones.
I spotted this gem in the British(-inspired) foods end cap at my local HEB. There are several things about this candy bar that bother me.
1. The image of the female is not only wearing a short skirt, but carrying a tiny purse, as well. Talk about a stereotype. If said image corresponds to the slogan, "It's not for girls!" then can a grown woman with kiddos and a stretchier body enjoy this candy? Really, almost every mom I know carries a bag so big that it should probably have its own wheels. Plus, some of us who've had multiple pregnancies still have a body that has no business wearing anything that short. I'm just sayin'. Also, the girl could at least have hair on her head.
2. Yes, this may be some sort of reverse psychology--I mean, who markets chocolate to men and not women?--but assuming that it's not, the nutritional facts are located in the usual place, with the calorie count (over 350[!] for all 5 pieces) in big numbers right next to the slogan. Unfortunately, I channeled my inner male when I bought this. In other words, I ate a piece (or two, or three...) before I read the label. Whatever.
3. For all intents and purposes, it's tasty. Yeah, I said it.
4. I bought misogynistic candy. Effing hormones.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Tattoo You...?
I love tattoos. If you hate them, I ask that you please just move on to the next blog.
Allow me to make this perfectly clear--I am not an expert in tattoos. I know little to nothing about them, or the process of getting one. Like many others, I am familiar with the thought process behind considering one. With that said, I have compiled a short list of things to think about before one gets his or her first tattoo.
1. A friend of mine does tattoos. He told me that when someone tells him that s/he wants to get a tatt but doesn't know what s/he wants, my friend suggests "a cowboy riding a tube of toothpaste." Tattoos don't score anyone cool points, and just like herpes, they are forever. Therefore, they need to have meaning. Getting a tattoo just for the sake of having a tattoo is like wearing a Vera Wang gown to your wedding, but not taking a shower. It's a bad idea.
2. If you refuse to have your legs waxed or use an Epilady (or one of the nifty modern versions) because it would hurt too much, perhaps a tattoo isn't such a brilliant idea for you. Unless the technician is a freaking idiot and makes the wax too hot, getting waxed doesn't hurt. Stop cringing, it really doesn't. Never mind the baby soft skin you're left with, waxing is totally worth it (although I don't know about the bikini area--I'm way too chicken to try it). Now getting a tattoo, on the other hand, is like a thousand fiery rubber bands shooting into one spot. Waxing and the Epilady are uncomfortable, but getting a tattoo can be painful.
3. Choose the artist wisely. Word of mouth generally works best. If you see someone with great tatts, ask where s/he got them done and more importantly, ask for the name of the artist. Believe it or not, some people can draw beautifully, but can't tattoo worth a darn. For instance, my nephew has a talented friend who learned how to do tatts by watching videos on YouTube (*ahem*). In a shop, look for overall shop cleanliness and check out the artists' portfolios.
4. If the artist sketches something that is exactly what you asked for but you don't like it, speak up. If the end result is less than satisfactory, let the artist know immediately so s/he has a chance to make changes. Refer to the herpes analogy from #1. (Note: Letting an ugly tattoo heal then going to another artist and badmouthing the previous artist [without expressing your concerns to said artist] is just terrible behavior that could result in bad juju. Don't say I didn't warn you. But if you told the artist that you don't like your tatt and s/he refuses to do anything about it, talk all the smack you want.)
5. The person who made the rule "Go big or go home" is an asshole. Yeah, you can make your first tattoo as big and elaborate as you want, but you can also drive a car with your feet. Does that mean it's a good idea? Seriously, if you're paying good money for someone to poke you with needles so you can have permanent art on your body, you can go small. Those jerks on TV make getting a tattoo look easy because they don't want to look like pansies. If you've never had a tattoo, you don't know how you're going to respond to the pain. I don't care if a hundred people you know, including your mom, say that it's not a big deal. Until the rule is abolished, it should be modified to state, "Go big, or small, or something in between."
6. Sal, from Tattoo Nation in San Antonio (210-499-4653, 19314 Us-281 N, #105, on 281 and Redland), suggests that the best things to do when you're getting a tattoo are to relax and breathe. I do not recommend chewing gum because most people hold stress in their jaws, so the gum chewing makes it hard to get mellow because those muscles are working instead of relaxing. Focus on the deep breathing--yes, a little like childbirth--and relax those muscles. If you need to listen to Kenny G. to get in the zone, you might want to bring headphones.
7. Don't bother bringing someone with you. Unless your friend/family member/significant other loves watching paint dry, it's pointless to have someone tag along. Plus, it can be annoying when they hover (not to be confused with observing). Anyone who watches L.A. Ink wants to kick Aubrey every time she sticks her face in someone's work. Now, I know that the artist is getting paid to do the tattoo and your buddy should be allowed to watch, but that person needs to respect personal boundaries because there are some people you just shouldn't piss off. Your tattoo artist is at the top of that list, along with the person who serves you food.
8. Let's say you have a brand spankin' new tatt, just glistening with A&D ointment, and it's your new found glory. Take good care of it. The first few days are like having a puppy. It'll do some crazy things (i.e. ooze, fade a bit), so it needs extra care.
9. ETA: Make sure your tetanus inoculation is up to date. I'm just sayin'...
Again, none of these little tidbits are Bible truth. They're just a few points to consider before getting tattoos. I hope this helps.
Allow me to make this perfectly clear--I am not an expert in tattoos. I know little to nothing about them, or the process of getting one. Like many others, I am familiar with the thought process behind considering one. With that said, I have compiled a short list of things to think about before one gets his or her first tattoo.
1. A friend of mine does tattoos. He told me that when someone tells him that s/he wants to get a tatt but doesn't know what s/he wants, my friend suggests "a cowboy riding a tube of toothpaste." Tattoos don't score anyone cool points, and just like herpes, they are forever. Therefore, they need to have meaning. Getting a tattoo just for the sake of having a tattoo is like wearing a Vera Wang gown to your wedding, but not taking a shower. It's a bad idea.
2. If you refuse to have your legs waxed or use an Epilady (or one of the nifty modern versions) because it would hurt too much, perhaps a tattoo isn't such a brilliant idea for you. Unless the technician is a freaking idiot and makes the wax too hot, getting waxed doesn't hurt. Stop cringing, it really doesn't. Never mind the baby soft skin you're left with, waxing is totally worth it (although I don't know about the bikini area--I'm way too chicken to try it). Now getting a tattoo, on the other hand, is like a thousand fiery rubber bands shooting into one spot. Waxing and the Epilady are uncomfortable, but getting a tattoo can be painful.
3. Choose the artist wisely. Word of mouth generally works best. If you see someone with great tatts, ask where s/he got them done and more importantly, ask for the name of the artist. Believe it or not, some people can draw beautifully, but can't tattoo worth a darn. For instance, my nephew has a talented friend who learned how to do tatts by watching videos on YouTube (*ahem*). In a shop, look for overall shop cleanliness and check out the artists' portfolios.
4. If the artist sketches something that is exactly what you asked for but you don't like it, speak up. If the end result is less than satisfactory, let the artist know immediately so s/he has a chance to make changes. Refer to the herpes analogy from #1. (Note: Letting an ugly tattoo heal then going to another artist and badmouthing the previous artist [without expressing your concerns to said artist] is just terrible behavior that could result in bad juju. Don't say I didn't warn you. But if you told the artist that you don't like your tatt and s/he refuses to do anything about it, talk all the smack you want.)
5. The person who made the rule "Go big or go home" is an asshole. Yeah, you can make your first tattoo as big and elaborate as you want, but you can also drive a car with your feet. Does that mean it's a good idea? Seriously, if you're paying good money for someone to poke you with needles so you can have permanent art on your body, you can go small. Those jerks on TV make getting a tattoo look easy because they don't want to look like pansies. If you've never had a tattoo, you don't know how you're going to respond to the pain. I don't care if a hundred people you know, including your mom, say that it's not a big deal. Until the rule is abolished, it should be modified to state, "Go big, or small, or something in between."
6. Sal, from Tattoo Nation in San Antonio (210-499-4653, 19314 Us-281 N, #105, on 281 and Redland), suggests that the best things to do when you're getting a tattoo are to relax and breathe. I do not recommend chewing gum because most people hold stress in their jaws, so the gum chewing makes it hard to get mellow because those muscles are working instead of relaxing. Focus on the deep breathing--yes, a little like childbirth--and relax those muscles. If you need to listen to Kenny G. to get in the zone, you might want to bring headphones.
7. Don't bother bringing someone with you. Unless your friend/family member/significant other loves watching paint dry, it's pointless to have someone tag along. Plus, it can be annoying when they hover (not to be confused with observing). Anyone who watches L.A. Ink wants to kick Aubrey every time she sticks her face in someone's work. Now, I know that the artist is getting paid to do the tattoo and your buddy should be allowed to watch, but that person needs to respect personal boundaries because there are some people you just shouldn't piss off. Your tattoo artist is at the top of that list, along with the person who serves you food.
8. Let's say you have a brand spankin' new tatt, just glistening with A&D ointment, and it's your new found glory. Take good care of it. The first few days are like having a puppy. It'll do some crazy things (i.e. ooze, fade a bit), so it needs extra care.
9. ETA: Make sure your tetanus inoculation is up to date. I'm just sayin'...
Again, none of these little tidbits are Bible truth. They're just a few points to consider before getting tattoos. I hope this helps.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Come On Let's Sweat!
If you're in one of those I-don't-wanna-laugh-with-someone-I'd-rather-laugh-at-them moods, you've come to the right place. Today, I learned that I've been roaming the gym with a false sense of security and, well, smugness.
My gym is one of those types where people do indeed go for business, but they also have to look good while doing it. Therefore, the women wear cute workout clothes and makeup while they sweat. I would love to know what kind of makeup they use that stays on during such humid conditions, but I digress. Unlike these women who are the majority, I show up in t-shirts and sweats/yoga pants. In this economy, I just don't have the funds to buy cute gym clothes unless they're on serious markdown at Target or Ross. No big deal. Regardless, I go to the gym for me. I want to improve my health so I can improve my quality of life.
It is this attitude that has resulted in my sense of badassness. On cardio days, I Bogart a treadmill or an elliptical machine, and work my arse off to my favorite tunes. Yes, I still call them "tunes." Anyway, after kicking so much arse to the beats of The Killers or Red Hot Chili Peppers, I hit the showers feeling strong! Sexy! 007-ish!
Until today. In one of the dressing rooms, I took off my pants and saw--gasp!--two smiley faces of sweat under my panty line. If I saw them after I took my pants off, then everyone saw them while my sweat was smiling at my behind. Okay, perhaps this doesn't sound as devastating when you're reading it. It's probably one of those things you have to see to get the full funny effect.
Anyway, this episode did not come without a lesson: Buy better pants. Sell off some yarn stash, in necessary. I suppose I should just be glad that I didn't wear a thong today.
My gym is one of those types where people do indeed go for business, but they also have to look good while doing it. Therefore, the women wear cute workout clothes and makeup while they sweat. I would love to know what kind of makeup they use that stays on during such humid conditions, but I digress. Unlike these women who are the majority, I show up in t-shirts and sweats/yoga pants. In this economy, I just don't have the funds to buy cute gym clothes unless they're on serious markdown at Target or Ross. No big deal. Regardless, I go to the gym for me. I want to improve my health so I can improve my quality of life.
It is this attitude that has resulted in my sense of badassness. On cardio days, I Bogart a treadmill or an elliptical machine, and work my arse off to my favorite tunes. Yes, I still call them "tunes." Anyway, after kicking so much arse to the beats of The Killers or Red Hot Chili Peppers, I hit the showers feeling strong! Sexy! 007-ish!
Until today. In one of the dressing rooms, I took off my pants and saw--gasp!--two smiley faces of sweat under my panty line. If I saw them after I took my pants off, then everyone saw them while my sweat was smiling at my behind. Okay, perhaps this doesn't sound as devastating when you're reading it. It's probably one of those things you have to see to get the full funny effect.
Anyway, this episode did not come without a lesson: Buy better pants. Sell off some yarn stash, in necessary. I suppose I should just be glad that I didn't wear a thong today.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Forward Motion
I have fallen off the yarn-diet wagon so hard, that I've finally quit the yarn diet. Wait, that's a bit of an exaggeration. Yes, I have bought yarn, but it wasn't a haul like the good ol' days of Mum and me, and yarn petting gone wild. But these mini binges have become cause for concern in their own rite. When I started this yarn diet, I would occasionally slip and buy yarn, then beat myself up over the purchase and vow to begin the diet again immediately. Here's my conclusion: I work hard and sometimes I want yarn. Once I buy yarn, it's done. I've bought yarn and I can't time travel to make it not happen. Therefore, why should I continue to beat myself up about it, especially when I practice moderation and restraint when I do buy, right? This isn't a bad thing--it really isn't. Really. It isn't a bad thing.
For a minute, I believed that it would be in my best interest to cease buying yarn until Kid 'n Ewe in November. Geez, I still have some Brooks Farm that I bought a year and a half ago that sits around and waits to be knitted or petted. But I cannot lie. I miss my mum terribly, and lately I've felt on the cusp of desperation. I don't have the crying spells (which I can't even force, even if it would seem in my best interest), but I still feel like a lost little kid. Anyway, while I was interviewing various sock yarns at Hill Country Weavers last Thursday, it occurred to me that when I feel desperate to reach out for my mum, I buy yarn. It doesn't actually work; I don't feel like she is standing beside me when I do this. However, it's just what I do. So, if I'm already feeling like complete shit because I want my mommy, then why add to the feelings of despair by scolding myself for buying yarn? Nope, it just doesn't make any sense. Besides, when I look at the buget, I'm not spending a lot on yarn. Really. I'm not. By the way, I hired a skein of Dream in Color Smooshy and a skein of Misti Alpaca sock yarn; they're in training.
Through all the craziness that is 2009, Year of Michelle has taken a backseat. I contemplated this as I took a walk through the 'hood this evening. It's time to get back on track with this mutha. So here goes. Today, I am establishing a few goals for the week. I can do almost anything for a week. *Ahem*:
For a minute, I believed that it would be in my best interest to cease buying yarn until Kid 'n Ewe in November. Geez, I still have some Brooks Farm that I bought a year and a half ago that sits around and waits to be knitted or petted. But I cannot lie. I miss my mum terribly, and lately I've felt on the cusp of desperation. I don't have the crying spells (which I can't even force, even if it would seem in my best interest), but I still feel like a lost little kid. Anyway, while I was interviewing various sock yarns at Hill Country Weavers last Thursday, it occurred to me that when I feel desperate to reach out for my mum, I buy yarn. It doesn't actually work; I don't feel like she is standing beside me when I do this. However, it's just what I do. So, if I'm already feeling like complete shit because I want my mommy, then why add to the feelings of despair by scolding myself for buying yarn? Nope, it just doesn't make any sense. Besides, when I look at the buget, I'm not spending a lot on yarn. Really. I'm not. By the way, I hired a skein of Dream in Color Smooshy and a skein of Misti Alpaca sock yarn; they're in training.
Through all the craziness that is 2009, Year of Michelle has taken a backseat. I contemplated this as I took a walk through the 'hood this evening. It's time to get back on track with this mutha. So here goes. Today, I am establishing a few goals for the week. I can do almost anything for a week. *Ahem*:
- Write down everything I eat and drink, as well as any formal exercise I do. Boy, I've been a slacker in this department, but research indicates that written accountability improves one's odds for weight-loss success. I'm not one to argue with the data.
- Practice drum rudiments daily, for a minimum of 20 minutes. I have a practice pad, so really, there is no excuse.
- Finish something. I have a sweater that I knit over a year ago that needs to be steam blocked and stitched, another sweater that I need to put the buttons onto and block...You get the picture.
- Clear out three boxes from my crazy craft room. This will actually be the most difficult.
Friday, April 3, 2009
From Me to My Blog
It's not like I don't want to blog. My problem is that my SD slot is still busted, and I cannot find the software for this computer. The inability to post pictures just sucks my blogging mojo. However, I'm going to make do for the time being. It's time to woman up and quit whining.
Last month, my neighbor and I made a run out to Fredericksburg and of course, when in Fredericksburg, I like to stop by Stonehill Spinning, LTD. When you step onto their little wooden porch and grasp the doorknob, you just know that good things and kind people await on the other side of the door. They certainly did not disappoint. I scored a skein of fingering-weight Yummy by Fibranatura (distributed by Universal Yarns). This stuff is, in fact, quite yummy. If I may be so bold, I would compare it to Socks That Rock, in that the colorways are outside-the-box and the texture and ply are agreeable with almost any pattern. I could pet this stuff all day--I really can.
Today, my wee-est one and I headed to Ulta to pick up some much-needed basics. I spotted Cover Girl Outlast Lipstain, and after reading user raves, I figured I would give it a try. I had read that not only does the product impart long-lasting color, but it actually moisturizes the lips, which no other lip stain does. Sounds good, right? I tried the Plum Pout which is actually pretty, but it made me look like an Asian hooker. Even though that's not the look I'm going for, it didn't look bad. After allowing the lipstain to dry for around three minutes--during which, my lips started to feel like they were shriveling and not bathing in moisturizing luxury-- I started eating lunch--a Sweet Onion Chicken Teriyaki flatbread sandwich from Subway. When I wiped my mouth, I noticed some of the lipstain on the napkin. Hmm... After lunch, I did a lip check and found that I no longer resembled a Tokyo prostitute, I looked like a crazy old Asian woman with a ring of worn off lipstick around my mouth. To make matters worse, nothing would remove the ring. I even tried using some of the leftover sweet onion sauce, but was unsuccessful. Good thing I was still a few doors down from the store and could return it (as long as you have your receipt, Ulta is cool about returns). Too bad I still had to stop by Costco, the vet's office, and CVS before going home. *sigh* (See note below.)
At a fairly recent SnB, one of the grrls, Courtney, recommended Kiehl's Abyssine Creme. She has sensitive skin and reported that even though the cream initially "burned" her skin, she is used to it and it no longer has that effect. On a trip to Target, I scored the last jar of said cream on the shelf. Score! I used Retin-A for years, so it's amazing that I have any skin left. However, that which didn't kill my skin, only made it stronger, I suppose, so even though my skin gives me crap with large pores and breakouts, it isn't sensitive. Anyway, I added this cream to my usual routine and I'm loving it. It doesn't burn my skin at all, but it helps even out my tone and is helping me get rid of the spots around my eyes. So worth the dough. If you decide to try it for yourself, please keep in mind that you'll need to add sunscreen to your regimen. Wait a second, you should be using sunscreen anyway!
So even though the lipstain was a bust, I did score in the yarn and skin cream departments. I'm still on a strict yarn diet (my neighbor paid for the Yummy, so that didn't count ;). I'm always on the prowl for the perfect lip products, so when I find them, they'll go from my lips to this blog.
Note: I mean no disrespect to Cover Girl. Their Lash Blast Mascara deserves some major kudos for giving lashes volume and length. However, I'm sharing my experience with a particular product, not posting Bible truth.
Last month, my neighbor and I made a run out to Fredericksburg and of course, when in Fredericksburg, I like to stop by Stonehill Spinning, LTD. When you step onto their little wooden porch and grasp the doorknob, you just know that good things and kind people await on the other side of the door. They certainly did not disappoint. I scored a skein of fingering-weight Yummy by Fibranatura (distributed by Universal Yarns). This stuff is, in fact, quite yummy. If I may be so bold, I would compare it to Socks That Rock, in that the colorways are outside-the-box and the texture and ply are agreeable with almost any pattern. I could pet this stuff all day--I really can.
Today, my wee-est one and I headed to Ulta to pick up some much-needed basics. I spotted Cover Girl Outlast Lipstain, and after reading user raves, I figured I would give it a try. I had read that not only does the product impart long-lasting color, but it actually moisturizes the lips, which no other lip stain does. Sounds good, right? I tried the Plum Pout which is actually pretty, but it made me look like an Asian hooker. Even though that's not the look I'm going for, it didn't look bad. After allowing the lipstain to dry for around three minutes--during which, my lips started to feel like they were shriveling and not bathing in moisturizing luxury-- I started eating lunch--a Sweet Onion Chicken Teriyaki flatbread sandwich from Subway. When I wiped my mouth, I noticed some of the lipstain on the napkin. Hmm... After lunch, I did a lip check and found that I no longer resembled a Tokyo prostitute, I looked like a crazy old Asian woman with a ring of worn off lipstick around my mouth. To make matters worse, nothing would remove the ring. I even tried using some of the leftover sweet onion sauce, but was unsuccessful. Good thing I was still a few doors down from the store and could return it (as long as you have your receipt, Ulta is cool about returns). Too bad I still had to stop by Costco, the vet's office, and CVS before going home. *sigh* (See note below.)
At a fairly recent SnB, one of the grrls, Courtney, recommended Kiehl's Abyssine Creme. She has sensitive skin and reported that even though the cream initially "burned" her skin, she is used to it and it no longer has that effect. On a trip to Target, I scored the last jar of said cream on the shelf. Score! I used Retin-A for years, so it's amazing that I have any skin left. However, that which didn't kill my skin, only made it stronger, I suppose, so even though my skin gives me crap with large pores and breakouts, it isn't sensitive. Anyway, I added this cream to my usual routine and I'm loving it. It doesn't burn my skin at all, but it helps even out my tone and is helping me get rid of the spots around my eyes. So worth the dough. If you decide to try it for yourself, please keep in mind that you'll need to add sunscreen to your regimen. Wait a second, you should be using sunscreen anyway!
So even though the lipstain was a bust, I did score in the yarn and skin cream departments. I'm still on a strict yarn diet (my neighbor paid for the Yummy, so that didn't count ;). I'm always on the prowl for the perfect lip products, so when I find them, they'll go from my lips to this blog.
Note: I mean no disrespect to Cover Girl. Their Lash Blast Mascara deserves some major kudos for giving lashes volume and length. However, I'm sharing my experience with a particular product, not posting Bible truth.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Stretch, Knit, Stretch
For the past several days, I've been wracking my brain, trying to remember when and how I got into yoga. My earliest memories involve my third-grade self tuning in to PBS at 6 AM to do yoga with Richard Hittleman (the show started right before "Morning Stretch," and when Joannie Greggins played "Fame" on her show, I became hooked on exercise). Since then, there have been two gaps in my practice--my stint in the Army and my third pregnancy. I've made a full return to yoga lately, much to the gratitude of my tight back muscles.
Several months ago, I read in a magazine that the new thing was yoga classes that play hip/comtempory music during the practice. I found this funny because Steve Ross has been doing this on "Inhale," his yoga show that airs every weekday morning at 5 AM CST on the Oxygen Network. I DVR this show and follow along after I get up at 7:30.
If you are brand-spankin' new to yoga and are interested in starting a practice, I strongly recommend not only getting cleared by your physician, but also seeking instruction from a pro. Take a few classes or get some one-on-one, but don't just jump into it. A qualified instructor will help a newb learn how to properly use props like straps and blocks (or even a chair), as well as correct mistakes in posture. It may sound weird, but something as simple as sinking shoulders could cause soreness and injury.
So, back to Steve Ross and his show. There is nothing like starting the day with sun salutations to "What's Going On." Steve is a bit snarky at times (i.e., "If you find that you're losing your balance, grab the person standing next to you. On a good day, you can take out a whole row of people. It's incredibly rewarding."), but that is one of the qualities that keeps me tuning in. You don't have to be this hardcore yoga type who sits on a mountain top and contemplates the meaning of life. Nope, you simply need to tune in and stretch and breathe. It sounds simple because it is. The eye candy following along (including some of the prettiest men I've ever seen) don't hurt the show either.
Knitters, you seriously should consider yoga. If not yoga, then some sort of stretching program. Our hobby, especially when we indulge in yarn dancing on a daily basis, throws our posture out of alignment by hunching our shoulders forward and keeping our necks down. The way to counteract the effects is to stretch the chest, neck, and the shoulders. I have started knitting while sitting upright (I'm the queen of funky sitting/standing/lying positions) with a pillow on my lap to hold my arms. This keeps my shoulders back a little more and keeps my neck from pointing down so much. It also extends my elbows a bit so they don't fatigue as quickly.
For now, I hope you will at least consider squeezing in some time to stretch and breathe into your day. Namaste.
Several months ago, I read in a magazine that the new thing was yoga classes that play hip/comtempory music during the practice. I found this funny because Steve Ross has been doing this on "Inhale," his yoga show that airs every weekday morning at 5 AM CST on the Oxygen Network. I DVR this show and follow along after I get up at 7:30.
If you are brand-spankin' new to yoga and are interested in starting a practice, I strongly recommend not only getting cleared by your physician, but also seeking instruction from a pro. Take a few classes or get some one-on-one, but don't just jump into it. A qualified instructor will help a newb learn how to properly use props like straps and blocks (or even a chair), as well as correct mistakes in posture. It may sound weird, but something as simple as sinking shoulders could cause soreness and injury.
So, back to Steve Ross and his show. There is nothing like starting the day with sun salutations to "What's Going On." Steve is a bit snarky at times (i.e., "If you find that you're losing your balance, grab the person standing next to you. On a good day, you can take out a whole row of people. It's incredibly rewarding."), but that is one of the qualities that keeps me tuning in. You don't have to be this hardcore yoga type who sits on a mountain top and contemplates the meaning of life. Nope, you simply need to tune in and stretch and breathe. It sounds simple because it is. The eye candy following along (including some of the prettiest men I've ever seen) don't hurt the show either.
Knitters, you seriously should consider yoga. If not yoga, then some sort of stretching program. Our hobby, especially when we indulge in yarn dancing on a daily basis, throws our posture out of alignment by hunching our shoulders forward and keeping our necks down. The way to counteract the effects is to stretch the chest, neck, and the shoulders. I have started knitting while sitting upright (I'm the queen of funky sitting/standing/lying positions) with a pillow on my lap to hold my arms. This keeps my shoulders back a little more and keeps my neck from pointing down so much. It also extends my elbows a bit so they don't fatigue as quickly.
For now, I hope you will at least consider squeezing in some time to stretch and breathe into your day. Namaste.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
So Glad Knitting is Not My Money-maker
Drama is everywhere. My husband often remarks to his coworkers that "We're not in high school," but the fact is that many things don't change, no matter how old we get or how far away we move. Most work places still have cliques. And someone is always up to no good (or at least doing something pretty stupid).
For me, my procrastination is coming back to haunt me. It really isn't a big deal, but in my usual drama queen fashion, I'm going to blow it up into larger proportions. After my Treehouse of Horror, A.K.A. the summer of '08, I had too much on my plate to deal with at once, so I knit. I knit like a crazy woman. Shawls, sweaters, socks, you name it. Not only did I knit, but I weaved in ends and blocked, both sure signs that I had some serious issues. Now, my motivation is fizzling out and I'm left with warmer weather approaching and some projects just screaming to be finished.
My mom was a chronic finisher. She didn't like having too many UFOs (although that didn't stop her from casting on, really), and passed away with only two. When I started knitting, I knit too slowly for casting on multiple projects to be an issue. Now, I have stuff galore, all just waiting for a little attention. The sad part is that some of it is actually pretty nice. I have a February Lady Sweater (a project that I highly recommend to everyone who believes they don't have what it takes to knit a sweater) that is screaming for buttons and a good blocking. My Shalom Cardigan needs its button sewn on and its ends woven in. And my Central Park Hoodie? I won't even go there. So what's stopping me? Just good ol' fashioned laziness. They're the mundane details of one of my chosen hobbies that I just can't seem to bother with right now (I'm saying this with my nose in the air, and hints of both condescension and irony in my voice--think: Beverly Hills housewife).
Now I don't know what's worse--the fact that I don't want to finish my projects, or the fact that I'm so lazy that I don't feel like winding any yarn, so I haven't really cast on for anything new. It's not that I don't want to knit--I really, really do want to--but I just don't want to stand still for it, not even for a minute. Because of this lack of winding, I have a reversible cabled scarf that I started for my husband (to go with his Koolhaas hat) that is 2/3 done; I just need to wind that third skein of Malabrigo. There are sweaters, shawls, scarves, socks, et cetera, that I want cast on for, but I really don't feel like winding. What makes this worse is that I don't even need to drag out and set up my winder and swift. They're already mounted to my cutting table.
I've actually cleaned bathrooms or cooked things just to avoid my hobby. Yeah, I realize that there are underlying factors that I should address and stop turning my lazy cheek to, but right now, it's a bit like going to church. I'm afraid of things getting too quiet. For the time being, knitting is like that homework assignment that is worth 1% of your grade. It could make the difference between a "B" and an "A," but whatever.
Anyway, check this out. I really have knit stuff. My SD drive is out of commission, but these pictures were managed to buck the system.
Noro Striped Scarf by Jared Flood, for my father-in-law
Yarn: Noro Silk Garden, in 3 forgotten colorways (I'll check when I'm not so lazy)
4 Skeins, US 7
Monkey, by Cookie A., for a friend from back-in-da-day
Yarn: Blue Moon Fiber Arts Socks That Rock, Mediumweight
1 Skein, US 2 bamboo DPNs (because I was too lazy to pick out two circs of the same size)
For me, my procrastination is coming back to haunt me. It really isn't a big deal, but in my usual drama queen fashion, I'm going to blow it up into larger proportions. After my Treehouse of Horror, A.K.A. the summer of '08, I had too much on my plate to deal with at once, so I knit. I knit like a crazy woman. Shawls, sweaters, socks, you name it. Not only did I knit, but I weaved in ends and blocked, both sure signs that I had some serious issues. Now, my motivation is fizzling out and I'm left with warmer weather approaching and some projects just screaming to be finished.
My mom was a chronic finisher. She didn't like having too many UFOs (although that didn't stop her from casting on, really), and passed away with only two. When I started knitting, I knit too slowly for casting on multiple projects to be an issue. Now, I have stuff galore, all just waiting for a little attention. The sad part is that some of it is actually pretty nice. I have a February Lady Sweater (a project that I highly recommend to everyone who believes they don't have what it takes to knit a sweater) that is screaming for buttons and a good blocking. My Shalom Cardigan needs its button sewn on and its ends woven in. And my Central Park Hoodie? I won't even go there. So what's stopping me? Just good ol' fashioned laziness. They're the mundane details of one of my chosen hobbies that I just can't seem to bother with right now (I'm saying this with my nose in the air, and hints of both condescension and irony in my voice--think: Beverly Hills housewife).
Now I don't know what's worse--the fact that I don't want to finish my projects, or the fact that I'm so lazy that I don't feel like winding any yarn, so I haven't really cast on for anything new. It's not that I don't want to knit--I really, really do want to--but I just don't want to stand still for it, not even for a minute. Because of this lack of winding, I have a reversible cabled scarf that I started for my husband (to go with his Koolhaas hat) that is 2/3 done; I just need to wind that third skein of Malabrigo. There are sweaters, shawls, scarves, socks, et cetera, that I want cast on for, but I really don't feel like winding. What makes this worse is that I don't even need to drag out and set up my winder and swift. They're already mounted to my cutting table.
I've actually cleaned bathrooms or cooked things just to avoid my hobby. Yeah, I realize that there are underlying factors that I should address and stop turning my lazy cheek to, but right now, it's a bit like going to church. I'm afraid of things getting too quiet. For the time being, knitting is like that homework assignment that is worth 1% of your grade. It could make the difference between a "B" and an "A," but whatever.
Anyway, check this out. I really have knit stuff. My SD drive is out of commission, but these pictures were managed to buck the system.
Noro Striped Scarf by Jared Flood, for my father-in-law
Yarn: Noro Silk Garden, in 3 forgotten colorways (I'll check when I'm not so lazy)
4 Skeins, US 7
Monkey, by Cookie A., for a friend from back-in-da-day
Yarn: Blue Moon Fiber Arts Socks That Rock, Mediumweight
1 Skein, US 2 bamboo DPNs (because I was too lazy to pick out two circs of the same size)
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