Fix all the things!

Sometimes inspiration strikes and I find myself striving to improve in all areas of my life. I want to be a better wife, mom, daughter, friend, employee, neighbor and citizen. I am going to get thinner, smarter, less indebted, more well-rounded, happier and taller. And at the same time as I’m improving in every way, I am going to learn to love myself as-is. I’ll be the same old me, but with a cleaner house, shinier hair, a discernible muscle (or two!) and a greater sense of clarity and purpose. This really does not seem like too much to ask. 

Now, I do say some of that in jest but as I begin to reflect upon nearly four decades of life, I do actually find myself inspired to improve. But it’s a different kind of inspiration this time, I think.  As it turns out, I might be kind of a cool human being. At least, I think so.  So, now comes the part where I stop treating myself like a big old piece of crap and start shedding layers of bullshit like self-loathing, shame, guilt, self-pity, doubt. Don’t get me wrong, I have always thought I was a pretty decent version of humans, on the balance. But I also always thought that you weren’t allowed to think something good about yourself without thinking at least one bad thing about yourself to balance it out. What the what? How on earth is this a helpful thing we’re taught to believe by our families, our culture, our religions? 

Instead, I’m going to be trying out a new belief. I’ve decided to believe it’s pretty useless to sit around collecting reasons why I suck. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll just be over here, not sucking anymore. And, because I’ll be busy not sucking anymore, I think I’m going to have to dispense with all the ways punish myself for sucking. It’s going to take practice to keep believing this new belief and it might take the next 40 years to unload the bad habits but that’s ok, I don’t think there’s a deadline. 

[tap][tap] Is this thing on?

Ahem.

Kristentatious here, reporting live from 2019!  Hello world; I’m still alive and I’ve made it this far! I occasionally think about how I miss writing and then I promptly do nothing about it. “Maybe I should blow the dust off the old Wit Spot,” I think to myself. So, here I am with a leaf blower. You know me - always busting out the leaf blower when a pair of bellows would work just fine. Have a Monday, you guys. Let’s see where the day takes us!

If you've ever been a lady to begin with

Let me preface this by saying the following complaint belongs squarely in the "things I really shouldn't give a damn about but instead I find myself immensely annoyed by" category. Probably if you were to write a book about this particular irritation of mine, you would title the book "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff."  And yet, it annoys me nonetheless. 

As a person who was had the pleasure of being involved with two separate productions of Guys and Dolls, I find myself really, ridiculously irritated when people misuse the phrase, "luck be a lady tonight."  No, seriously. And it happens more often than you'd think, too!

Over the years, on numerous occasions I've heard men use that phrase in a context that implies they hope to meet a woman and hook up. But really, if people would just listen to the damn song lyrics they would understand that it has nothing to do with taking some chick home at the end of the night. What "luck be a lady" really means is that luck has been on your side lately and you want it to be ladylike and stick with you, loyally and faithfully.  Maybe the song should have been called, "luck be a golden retriever" or, "luck don't run out on me now," except those phrases don't have quite the same ring to them. 

In conclusion, based on what I know about the meaning of the phrase, I can only assume these people prefer their luck cold, creamy and delicious:

But shoe shopping is supposed to be fun!

One of the most frustrating things about getting older is that fashion keeps changing and I don't. I feel like I am increasingly asked to embrace hideous, tacky and ridiculous clothing as acceptable wardrobe choices. Skinny jeans. High waisted, pleated short shorts. Leggings as pants. Short, wide shirts. Gladiator sandals. Pastel anything. No. I used to have more patience when I was younger but now shopping is just an exercise in pure frustration. Everything's ugly, nothing fits and I can't afford any of it anyway. 

But shoe shopping....that's another story. Shoes don't care if you gained 5 pounds. I can reliably pick out two shoe sizes and one of them will fit. But guys, what is going on with shoes?!?  I just spent over an hour in DSW, and my experience went roughly like this: "Too ugly. Too flat. Ick. Who would wear that?  Way too tall. So cheaply made. Looks like something an old lady would wear. Looks like something I had as a kid. OH MY GOD SO CUTE. Oh, Michael Kors...can't afford them." And so on, up and down every damn aisle of that store. 

Two common themes I noticed: 1) huarache sandals. I had a bunch of those in the 80s. Is it wrong that I don't want to dress like a seven-year-old version of me anymore?  2) Sandals that look like mini personal jail cells for your feet. I just want a cute pair of sandals, dammit!  

I did find these, though I didn't buy them because they didn't fit my parameters (they were neither multipurpose nor sandals). But, come on, black and white pretty much goes with anything, right?

Song Burst

Does anybody remember that game SongBurst from back in the 1900's?  Where you got some lyrics and had to finish singing the song? I think I owned it in junior high or high school and of course it was right up my alley because I have so many song lyrics stored in my brain that I'm pretty sure they're taking up space that could be used for legitimate memories or knowledge. Bursting into song spontaneously is a regular occurrence for me. Sometimes without realizing I'm doing it. Oftentimes in response to a statement or question that reminds me of a song. I'm sure it's not annoying at all and that it has never caused my husband to want to wring my neck. 

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I was sitting at Starbucks this afternoon, sipping my iced coffee, when the baristas spontaneously burst into a round of Montell Jordan's This Is How We Do It. After a few moments of that, one barista chimed in, "No guys, this is how we BREW it."  It was super cute, of course (well, to me, at least).  But, more than that, it made me miss having fun at work. 

Now, don't get me wrong--enjoying the occasional laugh with my current set of coworkers is basically all that keeps me sane. But are there people who manage to make their work consistently fun?  Even if the nature of their work is inherently unfun?  I'm sure, in part, it's just a mindset, like happiness. How do I reintroduce fun into my work, and into my life generally?  And where the hell did it go for so long?  I swear I used to be a fun person!  I have song lyric knowledge to prove it!

Challenge

In the spirit of self-improvement, I'm trying out something new. I always say I enjoy writing but I've just become too busy to write. And while that's mostly true, I do find time to do other things that are monumental wastes of my time (I'm looking at you, The Internet). Certainly I could find a few minutes to jot down a few words here and there if I made even half an ounce of effort.

So...I'm challenging myself to write just a little bit. That's all. Just start writing with no pressure for a long or funny story. This is really hard for me because I'm kind of a perfectionist. Even just shooting off a three sentence email to a good friend involves several rounds of edits and careful consideration (obsession) of whether the tone could be misconstrued, etc. Anyway, see?  I did it. 

Now Therefore Be It Resolved

Wow, Friends!  At a rate of three posts per year, I'd say I've really got this writing thing by reins!  And also, Hey there, 2013, how's it going?  I have to be honest with you, 2013, I basically put all my eggs in The Great Rapture of 2012 basket, so I am utterly unprepared for your arrival.  Please don't look in the corners or open that door over there.  But, welcome nonetheless. 

 

So, obviously, THIS is the year I will become better, richer, thinner, prettier, funnier and more well-rounded.  No pressure.  I've got a bunch of stuff in the works, though--most of it life changing, and all of it easily enacted and likely to finally stick this time, so, you know...fingers crossed.  If not, you like me the way I am, right?  (If not, get off my damn blog.  I'm probably only getting worse from here on out.)

 

I am looking forward to the new year, though.  I wouldn't say I necessarily make firm resolutions each year, but when I change the wall calendar, it seems like as good a time as any to do a life-in-review.  You know, make sure I'm on the right track.  Assess where I've been too lazy and determine the need for a swift kick in the pants.  Everybody needs a swift kick in the pants now and again.  I offer a service, if you need. I haven't had a chance to do my annual sit-at-Starbucks-and-contemplate-my-life event yet, so I'm not yet able to delineate my areas of focus for 2013.  Instead, here's a meme--and my lazy attempt at a retrospective on 2012.  2012 was an OK year.  It was definitely better than 2011, though that's not saying much.  I did some shit I was proud of in 2012, though, so all in all I can't complain.

 

1. What did you do in 2012 that you’d never done before?

I did 3 things in 2012 that I had put off far too long and that I'm especially proud of.  I made myself vulnerable to rejection, but instead I was accepted.  I faced my fear of failure, but instead I succeeded.  And last but not least, I did something that terrified the bajeezus out of me, and it was not nearly as bad as I imagined it would be.

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
As I mentioned above, I don't make resolutions, per se, but I do identify areas I'd like to work on.  I made my health and exercise a priority in 2012 and I stuck with it for the better part of the year, until things got really busy the last couple of months.  I will continue that and intend to determine what I need to focus on this year, but haven't done so yet.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
 Not this year.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Yes.  My grandma died in 2012.

5. What would you like to have in 2013 that you lacked in 2012?
The ability to stop my incessant worrying.

6. What countries did you visit?
I stayed in the US but visited MI, IN, IA, WI and FL.

7. What date from 2012 will remain etched upon your memory, and why:
No specific dates stand out. 

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
I applied for, and received, a promotion at work.

9. What was your biggest failure?
I now do far more work for nearly the same pay.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
No major illness or injuries, but I'm currently on day 14 of a back-to-back-to-back cold-flu-sinus thing.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
I really tried to rein in excessive spending and buying last year, so the best thing was everything I didn't buy.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Honestly?  Mine.  I was very disciplined for the better part of the year. 

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
 Politicians.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Living expenses. Paying off bills. Buying things for my whiny kids.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
I took a writing class at Second City that I was really excited about.  In the end, I didn't really love scene writing, though.

16. What song will always remind you of 2012?
Some Nights by Fun.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

i. happier or sadder?  A little happier.
ii. thinner or fatter?  A little thinner.
iii. richer or poorer?  A little richer?  Not really sure.
 
18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Enjoy my children's childhood.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
 Worry.

20. How did you spend Christmas?
We spent Christmas Eve with my parents, brother and Grandma.  On Christmas day we went to my husband's Aunt's house.  Same as we always have.

21. There was no #21. I don’t know why there was no 21.

22. Did you fall in love in 2012?
Nope.  Already in love.

23. How many one-night stands?
??  Zero.

24. What was your favorite TV program?
Hmmm.  I watched a lot of HGTV.  I also enjoyed New Girl and Girls.  And I discovered the Big Bang Theory last year (I know--where have I been?!?).

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
Nope.  I'm not a hating kind of person.

26. What was the best book you read?
I think I only actually finished reading a couple of books this year--The Hunger Games and Mindy Kaling's book Is Everybody Hanging Out Without Me (And Other Concerns)?

 27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Fun.

28. What did you want and get?
I wanted a Kindle Fire and got one for my birthday, so that was pretty cool.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?
I don't see a lot of films.  I think I saw Crazy Stupid Love last year and, you know, Ryan Gosling.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I was 33 and my husband and kids made me dinner and dessert. 

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
A new home.  It's on the list for 2013.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2012?
Business casual--as in, I have my work wardrobe and that's about it.

34. What kept you sane?
Coffee. Exercising. Friends.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
 See #30.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
 The election.

37. Who did you miss?
My grandma.

38. Who was the best new person you met?
We became friends with some parents from Eric's baseball team.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2012:
 Don't be afraid to do what you need to do to get where you want to go. Nobody else is going to do it for you.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
If you're lost and alone
Or you're sinking like a stone
Carry on
May your past be the sound
Of your feet upon the ground
Carry on

Ten Years Ago

I got to thinking recently (I don't think often, so when I do, it's noteworthy) about how much my life has changed in the past 10 years.  My life has changed so much, in fact, that if you had described to me ten years ago where I'd be today, I would've been all, "Pfft.  You must have the wrong person."  And you'd have been like, "I'm totally serious, Kristi.  Here's a thousand bucks.  Run for the border and change your name and you might be able to escape your fate.  Do not pass go; do not look back.  Just run."

And I'm joking of course; my life is not bad at all.  In fact, there are some things I rather enjoy about it.  It's just that I would've never imagined it would have unfolded in this way.  There are certainly elements of my life that I would've predicted 10 years ago, but the way in which they happened would've been beyond my wildest imagination.  But that's life, right?  The only thing you can really expect from life is to be surprised.

For the sake of reminiscing, ten years ago: I had zero husbands and zero children.  I lived at home with my parents.  I did not even know my husband and was in the midst of dating a series of Mr. Wrongs.  I remember that time period, dating-wise, was particularly infuriating for me.  I did not like to date around.  I just wanted to find one awesome guy and be done with with.  Surely that's not too much to ask, right?  In retrospect, I probably should have been more patient in that arena.  With age comes wisdom. 

Back then, I wanted to do event planning for a career but, coming off the heels of 9/11, that felt like it was going slowly for me.  Generally speaking, though, it has been my experience that the things you're waiting for in life come even more slowly than you expect or want, whereas the possibilities you never considered end up blindsiding you.  Sometimes, you're just going along, minding your own business and suddenly you have a whirlwind shit storm on your hands.  

In the summer of 2002, however, there was no such whirlwind shit storm.  I had just started working at a golf course, in their catering sales department, and I was just about to quit my job waiting tables at Chili's.  All in all, things were looking up for me.  I remember that being a fun summer--I liked the people I worked with, most of my friends were done with college and we were all generally looking to have a good time.  I was 22 and totally self-absorbed.  I was completely incapable of fathoming the series of life-changing events that would unfold over the course of the next two years. 

At the end of the summer of 2002, as a birthday gift to me, my parents paid for me to take an improv class at Second City.  I remember being so excited about that.  Having been long regarded as funny and assured by friends and acquaintances alike that they would see me on Saturday Night Live someday, I was certain that enrolling in classes at Second City would put me on the fast track to comedy brilliance.  Alas, my time at Second City was cut short and my rise to fame was not to be.  I had a fantastic time there, though.  To this day, I can think of few things that get me as excited as enrolling in new improv classes and imagining the possibilities that could unfold therefrom.  I still consider my time at Second City to be unfinished, but whether or not I take more classes there, or somewhere else, or just continue to improvise with friends, improv is the one thing I'm still doing ten years later (after a few year hiatus).  I imagine it will continue to be a part of my life for the foreseeable future.

So there you have it.  Thank you for enduring the trail of tears with me.  Given the the curve ball the last ten years threw me, I've decided not to guess what will happen in the next ten years.  I'll just try to sit back and enjoy the show.  It's weird to think that ten years ago, I had no children and ten years from now, I'll have an 18 and 15-year-old.  Entire childhoods are passing before my very eyes; I should probably slow down and enjoy them!

Why I Y

Over the past couple of years, I have managed to remain fairly dedicated to my physical fitness.  Sure, I've fallen off the wagon for a week or two here, six months there, but overall, I would say that for the first extended period of time in my life, exercising has claimed a proper spot on my to-do list.  I feel pretty good about the fact that, although I relapsed last fall and returned to the state of lazy asshole for a while, I've been fairly diligent for all of 2012. 

This is the part where I'd love to tell you about all the weight I've lost and how toned I am now.  And, really, you should see me.  You'd be so unimpressed.  I keep telling people (because I truly believe it) that all the muscle I'm building--and I'm definitely building muscle--is only serving to push the fat out further.  True story; you heard it here first.  And while I'm proud of myself for remaining committed to my fitness, it is a little disappointing to realize that, for instance, I've developed some kick-ass obliques but nobody except me can tell.  I still look like someone who has 35 flabby pregnancy pounds to lose.  [Author's note: my youngest "baby" is 5 now.  Ahem.]

But anyway, this is not a post about my fitness tips (just force yourself to do it) or totally ripped obliques (I swear they're real); it's about my underlying motivation for working out: the people watching at the YMCA is second-to-none. 

To set the scene, I use the fitness center at a residential Y, which means it's only a step or two removed from a place where you'd find a transient crackhead in a bathrobe jerking off in the corner.  Some of the folks who work out at the Y are (much like myself) ridiculously unfit.  In fact, oftentimes, I feel like one of the healthiest people in there, which is a badge of honor I wear proudly; as they say: in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king. 

Now, to be certain, I commend anybody for taking steps to improve their overall health and I realize that we all start somewhere.  My time at the gym is not spent (exclusively) feeling worthier than others who are in worse shape than me.  On the contrary, I largely spend my time attempting to decipher the motivation behind some of the workout get-ups with which these people adorn themselves.  "You there in the long-sleved denim pantsuit; isn't it getting a bit warm in there?" or "Oh no!  One of your crocs fell off while you were running on the treadmill!" and sometimes "Ohheylook!  I have a really similar blouse that I wear to work." or maybe "Where on earth did you find workout gear with shoulder pads!?!"  or "Wow, I would've never thought a t-shirt with that many holes in it would remain in tact for such an aggressive workout!" 

Basically, it's snarky thought after snarky thought (don't worry; the snarky thoughts I think about myself are the meanest of all) and then look!  my workout is over and, also, where did the time go?!?  Every once in a while, a truly attractive, fit person will work out at my Y and I will spend equal amounts of time gawking at and loathing them. But then I get over it because seriously, who truly minds watching the guy with the nice legs running on the treadmill?

In a nutshell, I love the YMCA because there's just enough WTF going on all around me to keep me completely distracted from the fact that my sorry ass has been dragged to the gym for months on end with very little to show for all the effort.  And I'm pretty sure that any day now, the Red Sea of flab is going to part to make way for my six pack abs to shine through.  But don't worry, I'll be sure to keep you updated in the event that actually happens.

Everywhere, signs.

Before I even get started on the story I intended to share, I interrupt this blog post for a tangential thought.  Dear lord, please let's all hope I can eventually remember what I came here for in the first place.

Tangential thought: one of the best parts of being a parent is getting to mess with your kids.  I personally believe bonus parent points can be awarded if you can mess with your kids in such a way that they know they are being messed with, but the reference is far too obscure for them to understand.  Just before Christmas, we took the kids to Lincoln Park Zoo to see the zoo lights.  Note that I say we went to see the zoo lights and not the animals, because the animals, largely, were missing or sleeping.  Also, parts of the zoo were closed or undergoing renovations.  There were signs everywhere explaining why animals were missing or exhibits were closed.  So, the kids kept asking, "What does that sign say?"  And every time they asked me that, I would tell them, "Long haired freaky people need not apply."

But I digress.  Here's where I was going before the train immediately derailed:

Last year for Mothers' Day, Ella made me a gift at daycare.  It was a little sign to hang on my bedroom door (or, presumably, on any door with a knob), that says "Mommy's quiet time."  Ella's teacher explained to a bunch of three- and four-year-olds that they should give their moms time to relax and enjoy some peace and quiet, so when the sign is on the door, they should leave their moms alone. (Right.  But a sweet idea, nonetheless.)

I was cleaning up my bedroom last night and came across the sign on my dresser, so I hung it on my door knob.  When I got home tonight, I discovered that Ella had moved the sign from my door to her door.  My first thought was, "Ella stole my quiet time.  Oh, the irony!"  But then I realized that she moved the sign off my door knob to make room to hang the giant fancy heart she decorated for me for Valentine's Day. 

She's a sweet kid--even if she did steal my quiet time.

Admit it, you're weird too.

Please tell me I'm not the only one who gets angry and shouts at the radio when I hear poor grammar in a song.  Other people are also known to yell things like, "It's who, Katy Perry.  WHO!!  The one WHO got away.  Unless you make a habit of dating inanimate objects, which wouldn't be that surprising, Whooore," right?  Right??  Please tell me I'm not alone in this.

In other news, I've had the luxury recently of driving to and from work with no little people in the car.  This means I get to shout freely at bad grammar on the radio, drivers with poor driving skills and whatever else irritates me.  It's really liberating but it's also possible that my crazy is getting out of control.  CHANGE LANES ALREADY, ASSHAT. 

Now with more books!

Admit it.  It makes me seem smarter right?  I like to give the impression that I'm literate.  Or literary.  Or literal.  One of those.  But not litigious--too much paperwork.

Seriously, people, what is with your cloven hoof fetish?!?

Over four years ago, I quipped about a Nike gym shoe I had just discovered that appears to be designed for people with cloven hooves (me).  You can see it here, if you'd like.  And who on earth would've ever guessed that a) people, to this day, would be googling "Nike cloven hoof" or (some variation thereof) left and right, AND, b) if you google that phrase, the first result you get is my little old website.  How perfectly odd.  I love it!

Totally Her Father's Daughter

Tonight the kids and I hopped in the car around 7:30 to run to the store.  Despite the fact that it was mostly dark already, Eric found his sunglasses and put them on.  As soon as Ella saw that, she demanded her sunglasses as well.  Monkey see, monkey do.  Except, as I reminded her, earlier, she had insisted on leaving her sunglasses at daycare for some reason.  No way, no how were we leaving that building with her sunglasses in our possession.

So, as I backed down our driveway on the way to the store, she began to throw a royal fit over her lack of sunglasses.  At night.  Long, skinny arms and legs went flying in every which direction.  Screaming, kicking, you name it, it all happened.  Eventually, she calmed down enough for me to understand what she was screaming at me.  She was (not so kindly) demanding that we return to school to get her sunglasses.  "Ella, we can't go to your school," Eric told her.  "It's closed now and if we break in, the police will come and we will all go to jail."

Well, lordy, lordy did that girl ever launch into an all new tirade.  I didn't catch every single thing she said, or shrieked, as the case may be, but the gist of it was a three-year-old version of "fuck the police."  She called the police all sorts of mean pre-school names, and insisted that she was going to bite them, scratch them, kick them, etc.  Eric, totally exasperated by her...threeness, replied with a deadpan, "Ella.  If you did all that, you'd be dead in a matter of seconds."

That kid cracks me up.  His delivery was awesome, and I'm not sure that I'm accurately capturing it in writing.  I don't know where he comes up with half of the things he says.  But I get that sentiment--I'm largely exasperated by her threeness as well.  This will pass, I'm sure.  Things will get better.  I do worry, however, about the fact that I'm raising one future cop and one future criminal and/or gangsta rapper.  I hope that works out ok for us.

Upshots to the Whoopin' Cough

1) I'm getting an excellent ab workout.

2) At only 15 calories a pop, the all cough drop diet is certainly helping me achieve my weight loss goals!

A Load of Compromisin' on the Road to my Horizon

I wonder if this feeling will ever pass because apparently I write about it every year.  My life and all its responsibilities have crept up and caged me.  Mostly I'm settled that it's how things have to be right now.  But damn if every August/September my desire for a change doesn't peak.  Watching people everywhere go back to school and start a new chapter of their lives floods me with jealousy.  I don't even know that I necessarily want to go back to school.  I don't know what I'd study.  I don't know how I'd find time TO study.  But I just know that every year around this time, the fact that I've been living in the same place for 6 years, and have had the same job for the majority of that time really hits me hard and I want to shed my skin and move on.

Sometimes I stand still long enough to notice that everything around me has completely changed.  The daily routine keeps changing as the kids get older.  Evolution is constant and goes unnoticed, unappreciated because it's wrapped in the same familiar packaging.  Friendships change--grow and shrink, rotate, move to the forefront and step out of the limelight--with the ebbs and flows of life.  A cross section of my life would reveal layer upon layer of changes--good times and bad, great friends, rich experiences.  For all that, I'm very lucky. 

I'm pretty sure that the desire for change still burns to remind me that my work here is not done.  It keeps me on my toes, ready for the next big adventure, whenever that may come along.  In the meantime, I suppose I should try to enjoy this same old, same old.  For all I know, it may be the calm before the storm.

One of these days I might wonder away.

Does anybody out there watch the TV show House? OK, now what about Castle? I don't watch either (where by "don't watch" I mean "barely know of their existence"). But I like to think that the latter show is a bigger, fancier, more elaborate version of the former. I hope it's really true.

Sweet fancy Moses!

Oh, hey look! It's 2010! Where did the time go? I'd like to say I've been working on a huge project, like writing a manuscript, but such is not the case. Or maybe I should say something that makes me sound smarter, like, "Oh I haven't been up to much--just out campaigning for Dick Durbin and waiting for my shipment of Darwin fish bumper stickers to arrive." But that's not true either. I can't claim to be wrapped up in an intersting book. I can barely share with you one piece of interesting pop culture trivia. I don't even know who's on American Idol. One word folks: LAME.

Basically, I've been living under a rock, just trying to hide from the Chicago winter. It's not working, though. Sadly, I still have to come out to go to work. I wouldn't doubt that Chicago boasted something like 87 consecutive days of sub-freezing tempertures and 102 consecutive days of snow cover this winter. I'm so done with winter. Mother Nature, I cast the evil eye in your general direction!

OK, it's bedtime now, but stay tuned for more random rants. Nighty night!

Really, fashion magazines everywhere? Really?

I have to admit that I am in a bit of a fashion quandary. I am completely perplexed and unimpressed by the styles being shown for this Fall that, apparently, people are supposed to actually wear. Like, put on their bodies and parade around in. I mean, have you seen some of these styles?!?

Last weekend, I walked through Woodfield Mall in its entirety and could not find a single item worthy of my hard-earned cash. I mean, some of the things I saw were OK in a "I could see them looking cute on other people" sort of way, but nothing struck me as being appropriate for me.

First of all, let's start with the color schemes: blah and more blah. I have as much black and gray and tan as I care to own, thank you very much. But all I could find available in stores was any kind of apparel you could possibly want in varying shades of oatmeal. No thanks.

Secondly, I know I have a hard body shape to fit. I've known this for a long time. But everything--EVERYTHING--I saw in terms of tops is that awkward length that is supposed to come down a little lower than your waist, or even be that weird "hmmm, is this a shirt or a dress?" length. With an awkwardly short torso, I can't pull any of that shit off. That shirt length makes me look even shorter and fatter than I actually am, so I must avoid it like the plague. Basically, I may have to go topless until that trend passes. I may have no other choice.

Thirdly, skinny jeans: making even the anorexics of the world look chubby and dimpled. Why, why, why does this style exist?!?! Anyone with even a slight curve to their hips who sports this style ends up looking like a slice of pizza from the waist down. That's all I have to say about that.

Lastly, maybe I'm just being dramatic, but I feel like I'm at an awkward age for fashion right now. I'm not young or thin enough to pull of anything really trendy, but I'm not so old that I can (or want to) wear any of the more matronly looking styles. It's terrible.

So, here's my dilemma: I have a closet full of crap that is way out of style, doesn't fit well anymore, or is just in bad shape, and there is nothing out there that I want to replace it with. This is all the more reason to get in better shape. Otherwise, if I'm going to have to walk around naked until these trends pass, we're all in trouble.

You could be a winner.

Man, it's really possible that five-year-olds have it all figured out. Maybe it's all very deep and mysterious -- at five you know everything but don't now it yet, so then you have to go through your whole life learning new things, meeting new people, going to new places until you're enlightened enough to realize that you knew everything when you were five. Yeah.

The other day I picked Eric up from school and he was telling me about a game he was playing at the after school program. "First they give you a car and then you have to get a girlfriend. And then you have to pick a job. I didn't know what kind of job I wanted, so I had to go to school. Then I went to school and I still didn't know what kind of job I wanted, so they just told me what kind of job I had. (Me: What kind of job was it? E: I don't remember. Something yucky.) Then I drove around and I had my yucky job and then I kicked my girlfriend out of the car because I didn't want a girlfriend anymore! Oh yeah, I remember now! The game is called Life!"

So true, Buddy, so true.