Pants Always Beats No Pants

I need new pants for work. I have a decent amount of dress pants, but I don't really need to go that formal for my jobs. (both of which I cannot wait to start) I have 2 pairs of khaki/twill pants that I could wear, but that's it, I have 2 pairs and I need to wear them throughout the week. I have some capris that work in the summer, but it's not summer anymore. Not to mention I'm still searching for comfortable yet professional shoes and not old lady shoes that don't pinch.

But I don't have the funds to fortify my wardrobe. And even if I did have them, trying to find pants that fit is a whole 'nother mater. Because I wear a 0-2, sometimes a 4, depending on the brand. And do you know hard that is to find that size in women's clothing? Yeah you can find them in the juniors section, but I am 30, and I am not shopping in the teenage section.

I know, the skinny girl can't find pants that fit her, boo-fcking-hoo. I'm sure there are many people who would love to be at my end of the spectrum. But all I'm saying is skinny people can have problems finding clothes that fit too.     

Match

I love color.  Ergo, I love fiesta ware.  I was all set to pick out the colors I wanted and have a rainbow of dinnerware.  And Mike is pretty easy going and lets me roll with (most) kitchen stuff, since I'm the one who does most of the cooking.  He didn't really know what fiestaware was exactly, so he was cool with it. 

Until we stopped in a store and I showed it to him.  As I'm mentally selecting the pieces I want from the array of products and giddily adding them to the registry, Mike notices that there's a lot of colors to choose from.

mike: So, what color did you want to get?
me: Um, color? Just one? 'Cause I wanted to get the scarlet, tangerine, sunflower, cobalt, plum, shamrock, the black, and maybe the brown.
mike: All of those?
me: Yeah...
mike (slowly): So, they wouldn't match?
me (quickly): They match! They're all the same shape and brand.
mike: But, you would put, say, the yellow plate and a red bowl together? Or, we would have 4 different plate colors on the table?
me (excitedly): Yeah!
mike: But...
me: Ok, so they don't "match" exactly in color.  More coordinate.
mike: but they won't match.
me: Well, no....not that way.
--beat--
:sigh: I just lost you on the fiestaware didn't I?
mike: Yeah...
me: Boo!

B & B

A while ago I suggested to dr soc that we take a little weekend trip for our anniversary. He thought it was a good idea (because all of my ideas are good ideas-though he has yet to agree to this fully), so I started google searching romantic trips for the area I suggested.

Oh la la! So many lovely romantic packages. The services/amenities range from drinks upon check in, flowers in your room, sparking wines, chocolates, massages, gourmet meals, late check out (wink wink), all things that make you feel a little or lot pampered, depending on how much you want to shell out. I noticed though that most of these packages are at an inn, and upon further research (google clicks) I find these are b&bs, not hotels.

I've never stayed at or even looked into a b&b, though I don't know why. Do I have an aversion to them that I don't know about? I remember there must have been some reason I never looked into one, because they all look really cute and feed me breakfast, so why would I not stay there?

So I pose this question to dr soc, because I'm sort of sitting on the fence on this. And maybe he has an aversion to B&B's too and then it would be a moot point. But turns out he's stayed in one and said it was pretty cool. Which I was less than thrilled to learn because I know that means he went with a previous girlfriend. I know this because no strait guy, A: suggests a b&b in the first place, and B: goes alone and without a woman to do dirty things to. (I know everyone has a past as do I. I'm sure dr soc isn't tickled that I was engaged before. But I don't like the thought of my boyfriend being "romantic" with someone else, no mater what the statue of limitations are. And honestly, I don't have any romantic getaways or even stories for anyone to be jealous over anyway. (Is it just me or have I dated some clueless guys?)) I didn't want to know anymore about that rendezvous, but I can't just leave the (texting) conversation hanging. So I come up with some lame: "maybe I don't like b&b's because you have to share a bathroom" excuse and hope I can revisit the idea later (after I get over my jealousy that is). But then he offers up the info that the one he stayed at (w/the ex-girlfriend. Yeah, grr) had a private bathroom as well. (Really, SO glad to know that, grrrr.)

Now fully engaged in competitive mode, I make the choice right then that we are going and I will kick that old girlfriend memory's ass. So there and nanny-nanny-boo-boo. Yes, because that is what the original intention of our romantic anniversary trip was. But as for an explanation of to why I'm not all wishy-washy on the b&b idea anymore I give him this reason: for an in-room massage, I think I can get over my scruples. (Also, I love the word scruples)

Which is true. But I don't have a job so a trip, let alone a romantic one, or anything else that requires funds, isn't in the cards right now. So I completely scraped the idea of a trip and any other plans I may have had for a celebration. So all that research I did in competitive and jealousy mode became the moot point. (To add insult to injury, I found out later that the romantic trip I'm no longer planning was the same place he went with the old girlfriend for their romantic trip. I'm sure you can guess how I reacted to that). Which is too bad because I did find some places/spas that would have been nice. With private bathrooms, promises of waffles and enough Queen Anne decor just so there's no doubt it's an inn. There's always next year I guess. But I still don't know why I didn't like b&b's in the first place.

Not in my happy place

Dr Soc left this morning to move to Charlotte. I won't see him for another 3 weeks. Add to that bummer of a morning the bad news I got on Thursday.

Yeah. Not in my happy place to say the least.

Stage Fright

As talkative as I am and as sociable as I am, it's a huge surprise that I hate public speaking. I'm downright terrified of it. My hands shake, my heart pounds, and I can project my voice just fine, but it's all shaky too. This is also why I'll probably never do karaoke either, I get stage fright.

I did drama my senior year of high school and I did not have this problem. I could perform well enough, memorize my lines (for the most part) and have a good time while doing so. But lets admit that theater is just a grown up way of playing pretend.

Because when I get to daap and try the interior design thing, that kind of presentation is a different zone. It's your work pined up on that wall, and it's you trying to defend it. Yes it's a critique and I understand it's not a ticker tape parade. But it's essentially a verbal smack down if you will. At least it was for me, I don't ever remember having a good crit. I had plenty of bad ones, and I guess the rest of them were ok enough that I don't remember them being bad.

So now, I'm terrified of public speaking. I don't even like reading aloud in class at times. And I have 2 end of the semester presentations this semester. I did the first one this morning. I bet you're wondering how it went. I tried to keep my hands on the desk so the shaking wouldn't be obvious, but that's hard for me to continue since I talk with my hands. My voice shook from start to finish. And because I was nervous I talked even faster then I normally do. So my 8-10 minute presentation was done in 6 minutes. Six minutes of shaky rapid fire god knows what coming from my mouth.

Yeah. 'Eff you daap.

I Want to Suck Your Blood

Last year right around new years, I dropped by the blood center to try and donate. I've attempted to give blood in the past, but my iron was consistently a smidgen too low. But to my surprise, my iron was high enough and I was able to give. I was super proud of myself and I blogged about it to commemorate the occasion. As those of you who have donated before, you know the blood bank calls as soon as you are eligible once that 50-something days window opens. And I make an appointment and attempt, but pretty much, my iron is still riiiight below that acceptable line. Grrr.

Well, yesterday, I knew I would be in the area of the blood center so I planned ahead a little bit. The past couple of days I took vitamins w/extra iron, kept my caffeine intake to a minimum (stupid leecher), and ate the right combination of foods to maximize absorption.

And woot! My iron was finally, finally high enough yesterday! (I took the vitamin 1/2 an hour before I tried to give. And it worked, so there) I was so excited I even said "woo-hoo!" when the screening tech told me so. She probably thought I was nuts too, but whatever, it's not like crazy travels through blood. Happy everything is ok, I gather my stuff and I'm put in the donation room.

I settle in the chair and wait patiently. I've only given blood twice in my life so this isn't old hat for me. I'm a big girl and I know I signed up for this, but from those two measly times, I remember it being slightly uncomfortable with a needle in my arm. But I don't like to watch, I know this about myself. So the anticipation ends up making me nervous. Really nervous, like palm sweating nervous.

The vampire, (or phlebotomist or tech, whatever, the blood taker) notices my nerves and asks if I'm ok. I figure I'll be so once the needle is in and as long as I don't look either, which I tell her. I watch while she cleans the area, but as soon as she tells me to turn away, I do so without hesitation. I don't want to seem like a baby, but I let out a tiny whimper when the needle went in. And it doesn't hurt that bad once it's going, it's really just a pinch. But the mere thought of it is what's making me a little skittish.

We're ready to go! I'm given the squishy thing to pump (it was a Big Ass Fan donkey, which amused me and I knew without looking at. Those things are popular in this town), but something isn't right. Vampire 1 called over Vampire 2, and they turned the needle a few times. Cute boy technician (vampire 2) was really gentle (what? I was nervous, not blind), but something just wasn't working and they stopped.

So after all that, the prep, the nerves, the head turning and blatant not looking, getting the needle in and going as far to squeezing the squishy donkey, my veins decide to not cooperate and ruin the whole process.

So the blood center wasn't able to get a usable donation from me. And now I have to wait another 8 weeks to try the whole circus again.

BOO HISS.