Tuesday, July 29, 2008


As I slowly approach a milestone birthday, I have been thinking a lot about various aspects of my life. It's just sort of a where I thought I'd be by now versus where I actually am kind-of-thing. I'm also trying to decide where I'd like to be in the future, and what steps I should be taking now and along the way to get there. One of the things I've been thinking a lot about is my current job and my future career aspirations. I don't necessarily know what I want to do when I grow up, but I do know that I don't want to do what I'm doing right now for the rest of my life. The job I have now is fine, and I like the people I work with, but it's a job I just ended up at. I work with my mom; I started working at the company because somebody went on vacation and my mom suggested to the office manager that if they needed temporary help, I might be interested. One thing led to another, and I became a permanent part-time employee, then a full-time employee. I think I do the job well, but it's not a job I ever set my sights on or have any real interest in making a career of. As I form my goals for the next few years, I know that getting a new job is on the list, but I also know that is going to be something that requires some careful planning and all the other hard work that goes into finding a new job. I didn't necessarily see it happening in the next year, or maybe even two.

The other day, I was at a company social outing and some of my co-workers and I were discussing the different temperaments and talents of our children. It's funny how kids from the same parents can turn out so differently. I just so happened to be sitting at the same table with my mom, who will testify to the fact that I was a pretty darn good kid. At one point, one of the people I support turned to me and jokingly asked something to the effect of, "So when did your mom make you learn to type?" I don't know that I can adequately explain how that one question turned my stomach and will serve as the as the one singular moment in time when I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was time to get a new job. Maybe I'm kidding myself, but I think my skill set goes so far beyond "stellar typist" that I would never even think to add that to the list. I mean, doesn't everybody know how to type these days? I don't want this to sound hokey or arrogant, but I feel like I really have the ability and potential to great things in my lifetime and that comment really solidified the notion that those great things will not happen at my current job.

Just because they're made of leather...

Dear Dimwits of the Office Building:

Do you need another breaking news bulletin to inform you that flip flops are not appropriate attire for WORK? Unless you work at the beach or perhaps the community pool. And since I happen to work in the same building as you, I'm almost certain you don't work at the beach (although I have never seen what's on the third floor...also, in case you were wondering, since we are not allowed to swim in the fountain, it does not constitute a swimming pool). Seriously, people. It doesn't really matter how much you overpaid for your flip flops or how luxurious the material is from which they were crafted. They are still flip-flops. The end.


P.S. While I'm doling out work-related fashion advice, might I recommend that you introduce your skirt to your knees. Or at least the bottom of your underwear.

Monday, July 21, 2008

When I cook...

Ya know, I really haven't been doing too much cooking over here at the house of Kristentatious in the past couple of years. I mean, sure, we eat, but it's mostly heat and serve crap that I know is absolutely horrible for us. But in terms of making a meal where the actual components of the meal have to be cooked separately, I'm sorely out of practice. I made dinner on Saturday night and the kitchen was pure chaos for an hour. I timed everything wrong. I didn't know how long things needed to cook, so I kept asking Chris every few moments (have I ever mentioned how much he loves when people ask him cooking questions?). I was intermittently chopping veggies and checking on things on the stove, so instead of putting the sharp knife down, I would walk around with it. Blade side up, pointing outward toward the doorway to the kitchen. You know, just in case anybody ran up to me (as some people in this house are prone to do), they'd be greeted first by the blade of a sharp knife slicing into some part of their body. Yikes. In any case, it's like I told Chris: everything tastes good in the end, but the middle part is not unlike a Julia Child skit from SNL.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Four-year-old funnies

OK, so this actually happened a while back, most likely when Big E was still three...don't sue me. I just remembered tonight, though, and didn't want to forget it again since it's priceless. Anyhoo, a while back, Eric and I were talking about something we did while I was pregnant with Ella. Eric remembered the event, and recounted it to me, telling me that he was there, mommy was there and daddy was there. Where was BabyElla? he wanted to know. So I reminded him that she was still in my tummy at the time. So he went on to explain to me that, oh yeah, BabyElla was in my tummy for a while, but then I went to the see the doctor and then she came out of my tummy. Then he paused, thought about it for a moment and asked, "Mommy, where's the door?" You know...the door that babies come out of. Lucky for me, I have a six-or-so inch scar across my *ahem* bikini area to prove that the BabyElla's "door" is in a place that allows me to avoid an awkward conversation with a three-year-old.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse...

I've been having a rough go of it lately. It seems like every time I turn around, I get another piece of bad news or something else negative (or costly) unexpectedly happens. I'm trying not get all down and "poor, poor pitiful me" about it. It is what it is. And, truthfully, some of it shouldn't have been all that unexpected--if only I had given it a proper place on my radar and not learned to tune out its annoying, constant blip. Just about every day for the past few weeks, I've woken up and told myself, "Hey, at least there's nothing else in my life that can possibly go wrong!" but then--just like that--something else happens. Today, for instance, I couldn't find my keys. And I couldn't go to work because I couldn't find my car keys. Anywhere. In fact, the last time I can remember seeing them was at the Tampa International Airport, coming out of the security area. And I remember thinking, "Oh, I better put those some place safer so I don't lose them!" (up until that point, they had been in the pocket of the hoody I was carrying with me in case it got too cold on the airplane). Unless they mysteriously turn up, we'll either be forced to share one set of car keys (which gets complicated), or pay around $200 to get a new set of keys (I only know the cost because I've lost a set of keys for this car before). [Update: apparently I can pick up a new transponder key and keyless entry remote on e-bay for around $40, inclusive of shipping. Then it's just a question of how much the dealer will charge me to program them for my car. Still, it's not like going to the hardware store and having a new house key cut for a couple of bucks.]

I'm actually at the point where it's starting to get funny. For real. If anything else goes wrong, I'll probably just starting laughing. That's where I'm at. Truth be told, I've been lucky that the things that have gone wrong have all been fixable things that have just come at an enormous expense to us, and have not been at all health related. So, at least we have our health.

If life truly is a journey, I feel like I had climbed halfway up the mountain and then tripped and fell about two thirds of the way back down. Not only do I need to wait for all the wounds to heal, but then I need to get back up and cover all that distance again. It kind of sucks, but like I said before, it is what it is. As Maya Angelou so eloquently put it, "When you know better, do better." Now it's time to do better. It's hard, though, because at this particular moment in time, I feel like I have nothing to look forward to. It seems like it's going to take a lot of hard work to get back on track. I'm sure that once stuff stops going wrong, and I have a couple weeks of sanity, it won't seem so bad after all. But for right now, I just don't know. It's hard to get a clear perspective while I'm still in the thick of it. But speaking of Journey, I'm going to listen to Don't Stop Believin' now. Maybe it'll make me feel better.