Attention All Cow Eaters

I'm not judgy. You know that, right? I don't preach my beliefs in hopes that you will change your ways. I only do that to my mother. So, this post is to merely inform you. Really. I'm no activist.

I'm also not a vegetarian. I used to call myself a "sympathetic vegetarian" when I was with Steve. I didn't cook meat because Steve didn't eat meat. I would order vegetarian dishes when we went out so that we could share. Oh, I still had my moments when I just needed meat. Every girl does.

But something tells me I will never eat a cow again. Ever. Because of this news article.

WASHINGTON — The agriculture secretary on Thursday resisted calls at a Senate hearing for a complete ban on so-called downer cattle — those unable to walk — from entering the food supply.

Some people seem to think that it's okay to eat the meat of a cow that is so sick it cannot stand or walk. Um, if the cow is sick, and then you eat it's meat, that means you're eating it's sickness, right?

There are stories about chickens and pigs too, but I'm not deterred just yet. And again, I'm not preaching, so this post is not How To Pursuade People To Stop Eating Meat (no mean comments, please). I am merely informing you that the government says it's okay to sell you meat from sick cows.

Who wants a salad?

Confessions Of A Curious Mind

Guess what?
I've been keeping a secret. Actually, a few secrets, but only one that I'm ready to fess up to.

Ready?

I joined Match.com a few weeks ago.
I KNOW!

Mostly out of curiosity. Not the least little bit out of desperation. I am not desperate.

And I always thought online dating sites were for desperate women. Until one of my girlfriends (who will remain nameless) joined eHarmony a while back. I thought, "She's not desperate. Why the hell would she do that?!" And then she explained why. She wanted the distraction. She wanted to meet new people. And let's face it, we're too old to be picking up guys in bars.

So she had a couple of dates, nothing big. And I figured I really had nothing to lose by signing up and surfing around.

[Here's where mom and dad scream "YOU DIDN'T GIVE ANYONE YOUR ADDRESS, DID YOU?! NO ONE KNOWS WHERE YOU LIVE, RIGHT?? No, no one has my address.]

And I have to say, it's been an intersting experience. I haven't met anyone in person, only emails and a couple of phone calls. I've been winked at by some freaky men (one of which lives in New Zealand. Talk about expensive dates!) and gotten some emails that read like form letters - "Hi. I like your profile. We have many things in common. If you would like to meet me, please call me. 999-999-9999. Thank you, [name]". Actually, I got the same email from the same guy twice. Guess he hasn't figured out a system yet to keep the ladies straight.

I'm not looking for a boyfriend, and don't even really know if I could bring myself to go out to dinner with a perfect stranger, but again, I have all of this single time on my hands, so I might as well have fun with it. I feel like it's research. I am a journalist and it's my duty to try out this stuff and report back to you. I take my job very seriously.

So a few notes about what I've learned so far:

Never make plans with someone you've haven't spoken to on the phone.
Yes, they're funny in their emails. They have good grammar and know how to punctuate. They're perfect on paper. Then you hear their voice and the first thing that comes to mind is "axe murderer". Crap. Too late to just hang up the phone. That would be rude. So you send an email two days later saying "Um, I'm going to have to cancel that plan. Something just isn't sitting right with me, maybe I'm not ready to actually meet people. So sorry. Bu-bye."

Men who list "assertiveness" as a turn-on are lying.
On Match you can see who looks at your profile. So if someone looks at my profile, and I think they're cute, I'll send them a quick couple sentence email. Casual, funny, simple.

I've emailed seven men, all of which had listed assertiveness from a woman a turn-on. And not one of them has responded. Now, I'm not naive - it could just be that they thought I was pretty and were hoping for some bikini pics (of which there are none, thankyouverymuch). But come on, not one of those seven guys found me even remotely interesting enough to email back? Really? Hmph.

It's okay to say "Not Interested".
Match has this fabulous little feature. It's a link that says "Not Interested". You click the link and this message pops up that says "We've let loppy425 [or whatever stupid name he's chosen] you're not interested." Why, thank you so much, Match! Whew! Now I don't have to email him and say, "Um, is that your ex-wife in the photo with you on the beach? Why would you do that?" Yes, really. Which leads me to....

Some people are just stupid.
Yes, you knew this. But it just blows my mind when they're so obviously stupid. Even with the website itself trying to coach them.

When you upload photos, Match has these little tips. One of which is don't use photos with someone of the opposite sex in them, unless it's obviously a group event or something. It turns your potential Match off immediately. And boy howdy, does it ever. One guy emailed me and was very nice. Seemed normal (they all do for the first 10 seconds). Divorced. So, I went to his profile and looked at his pictures. There's a photo of him, in a nice white button down shirt, with a lei around his neck, at sunset, with a very attractive woman, lei around her neck, and she's in a white dress.

Um. Sister? Best friend? Step-mother?
I don't think so.

How in the hell are you expecting to meet women when you've posted a photo of you and your now ex-wife at what appears to be your tropical wedding?! And if it's not your ex-wife at what appears to be your tropical wedding, I already have it in my head that it is and thus, have quickly clicked that fabulous "Not Interested" link. I could have emailed him back asking him point blank what he was thinking, but why? The link is so much easier.

Don't fall for the guy with the rock hard body.
Because what kind of guy, with a rock hard body, actually has the gall to post a picture of said rock hard body on a dating site? My gut tells me he probably will not be someone I want to spend an evening with......well........um. Okay, maybe an evening, but that's ALL and it's too much of a hassel to avoid their calls afterwards.

Where was I?

Ah yes. The rock hard body guy. I don't email these guys. I just save their photo and use it as my desktop photo.

Oh, I kid.
Kinda.

I apparently have a type.
Who knew? Not many people know about Match. Couple of girlfriends. And my folks (I tell them this stuff so that I can hear my dad say, "Your daughter is NUTS!"). I show my girlfriends pics of guys I think are cute, or that I've emailed. And they all agree that I have a type. Curly hair, tall (6'0 and up is best), slender. And if there's a beard, oh HELLO!

But they also have to be clever in their writing. If I find myself chuckling when I read their profile, they get big points. But some are so drab. "I'm very intelligent and my friends say I'm a nice guy. I guess I'm just looking for someone to connect with and have a good time with. My interests include reading, watching films, and spending time with friends."

*zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz*

Wha...? Did you say something?

Have you seen Singles? One of my very quotes from that movie is from a guy who has responded to Debbie Hunt's video for a dating service. They're showing clips of the guys, and one of them is uber creepy, and he just says, "I am very, very, very lonely."

I've seen a few of those on Match. And they keep looking at my profile. But I have been talking to a nice boy (yes, boy - 27) who just moved here a few months ago from Beaumont, Texas and plays guitar. So we talk about cowboy chords and Sonic. I do love their cherrylimades. There's been talk of maybe meeting for coffee, but no plan yet.

So when my membership is up in a couple of weeks, I think I'll just let it expire. I can say been there, done that. Woohoo.

And thus, another thrilling adventure that I share with you, dear reader.
I wonder what's next?

Why I Love Craigslist

Something is for sale in this picture.
Can you guess what it is?

A. The prom dress
B. The chair
C. The curtains
D. The girl

Now, take a minute. Really think about it before you just look at the answer.

Ready?

The curtains. The curtains are for sale. This is the best picture they could find.

I love craigslist. Love it!

FYI, My Birthday is April 14

I totally feel for this guy. No one calls him on his birthday and he flips out. I get that. It hurts. My grandma used to send me a birthday card every year with a $10 bill in it. The first year she forgot (I think I was in my mid 20s) I was devastated.

Remember, I'm quite fragile this year. You could be reading about me in your local Weird News the week of April 14th.

I'm just sayin'.......

A Bento Box Really Does Make It All Better

I've been a bit cranky today. Not sure why. I was on freakin' cloud 9 yesterday so I don't know what happened overnight to bring me down. More emotional rollercoaster crap, I guess. Or just one of the perks of being a woman. I love my uterus!

Anywho, my friend Nichole (little miss lives all the way out in Covington) and I went to World Wrapps for lunch and of course I had to get the bento box. Cause a bento box makes it all better. And I get a fortune cookie! If you remember, dear reader, WW's fortune cookies can bring me to tears.

As did today's fortune:

"You could make a name for yourself in the field of medicine."

[pause for audience laughter]

I wonder if they meant psychology?
Cause that's more believable.

Hittin' The Nail On Head

I left a comment on Crazy Aunt Purl's blog saying if she started a church, I would be there bright and early every Sunday morning. And you know how I hate getting up early.

Her most recent post, her Brick Wall Theory, is dead on. I would say she needs to write a book, but she's already done that.

She needs to write another book.

Warning! Baby Meter at 124%

Jamie and I walked over to one of the other cafeterias for lunch and seated next to us was one of the most BEAUTIFUL BABIES EVER PRODUCED.

Swear To Gawd.

Black, curly hair and these huge blue eyes. He had just woken up and was in that clingy-bury-his-face-in-his-mom's-chest kinda mood. I looked at Jamie and sighed, "Yeah, I could spit one of those out." My ovaries are still screaming.

If you would like to apply to be my baby's daddy, please click the Email Me! link to the side. A picture of yourself will speed up the interview process.

My One And Only Political Post (maybe....)

A few thoughts on politics, since I'm actually getting into it this year.

First, when will Ralph Nader just disappear? He is officially running for president, AGAIN. A mere 10 months before the election. Why does he keep doing this? Does he really think he has a chance? Does he realize that the votes that are going to him, could actually be put to good use? Crap.

Second, who the hell is this Tom Buffenbarger guy? I see the word "buffoon" when I read his last name. Coincidence? And is Hillary happy that he's on her side? I would be mortified if this jackass got up and tried to rally my supporters by blatantly insulting a very large part of the population. What a way to inspire and encourage people to vote and make changes. Insult them and tell them they're stupid for not voting for Hillary! As if her campaign wasn't suffering enough right now. I don't get very passionate about politics, but seeing this video clip on the news just made my mouth just fall open. What the hell was he thinking? And the people (the Democrats!) who stood behind him and cheered? And supported his just flat out mean rant? What the hell?

*sigh*

It's like we have two different Democratic parties now - Optimist And Naive, and Old School And Mean. It's very sad. As if two different parties wasn't messy enough.

And, Barak Obama is a christian, despite the rumors.

A Thrilling Day Here In Raechelle-land

Actually, not so much. I slept until 12:30pm, and haven't stepped outside of my apartment all day. Guess being such a wild gal Friday night really took it out of me.

I did watch the Oscars, though.

And the big thrill of the Oscars was first, seeing that Glen Hansard's and Markéta Irglová's song Falling Slowly, from the movie "Once", was nominated for Song of the Year, and then actually watching them WIN the Oscar, beating out those big ass productions from the movie Enchanted. I had goosebumps.

Why does this thrill me so?

A backstory:

Mic Christopher and Glen Hansard were best friends way back when in Dublin. Mic is the son of McP's parents' best friends. Ya follow me? McP was raised for a short time with Mic, until Mic's family moved back to Ireland from New Jersey, but the families were still very close. Sadly, Mic passed away in 2001, at 32, after slipping down some steps while touring with The Waterboys. When the movie "Once" came out, McP went to see it with a friend, not knowing what it was about or that Glen, and even some of McP's cousins, were in it. Afterwards, he was a little shell shocked, and a bit sad.

That's when I was introduced to Mic's music, and now, just hearing his voice makes me think of good times, in the midst of dark times. In the process of learning about Mic, I've learned about Glen and his band The Frames. And, to come full circle, it just tickles me to death that this busker from Dublin now has an Oscar. Big things for a small town irish boy.

They turned the mic off before could Markéta could say her thank yous, but they brought her back out after the commerical break. She said the song was about hope and that's what we all need now - hope. And she was completely amazed that they had come this far and this just goes to show that going after your dreams can make them come true.

Very inspiring.

And there's my Sunday, in a nutshell.

The Soap Opera That Is My Life

Or, How I Could Have Slept With A New Yorker and A Couple From California, All In One Night.

A friend from work wanted to start a blog, so she was asking me for advice and assistance. I showed her my blog and she's become a faithful reader. She stopped me in the hallway a couple of days ago and said "You are such an interesting person! I love your blog!" I was flattered. Someone thinks I'm interesting.

Well, she's going to have a field day with one. Hold on to your undies, dear reader. Raechelle had a wild night last night.

Jamie and I started the evening off at the Purple Cafe and Wine Bar downtown. We ended up meeting a cutie pie from New York. He gave me his number, I gave him mine, he left and went back to his hotel. Fifteen minutes later, I had a text from him. A very flattering text. So I texted back. Because texting is harmless, right?

Ha.

As he got more comfortable, the man texted words I can't even say to my girlfriends with a straight face and invited me to his room, more than once, to help him pack. In case you're wondering, no, I did not entertain the idea of accepting the invitation. Although....he was a hottie.

Meanwhile, Jamie and I finished up at The Purple and, since it was merely 8pm, we headed across the street to the W Hotel. We were feeling quite social, so we chatted with a few guys, and then with a couple that were ordering drinks next to us.

They were visiting from California and they wanted to go dancing, so Jamie and I suggested some places and they left. The girlfriend came back a few minutes later and said I was really cool and we should meet up tomorrow night. We exchanged numbers. Because texting is harmless, right?

Ha.

I got a text from them a little while later. Would I be interested in having some fun with a couple?

Here's where Jamie says, "I don't know why you have low self esteem, Raechelle. Even women are coming onto you." I did feel pretty damn cool as my phone was dinging all night. I eventally had to label the numbers NY Guy and CA Couple because I couldn't keep the area codes straight. And Jamie and I could do nothing but laugh hysterically at the complete absurdity of the night. We think it was the full moon.

Ah, and here's where I will leave you dangling, dear reader. Cruel, aren't I? I will say that a threesome did not happen and the bathrooms in the W Hotel are almost bigger than the rooms themselves.

And I came home alone.
I'm not completely stupid. I just like good blog material.

Happy Friday! I Have Heartburn.

Did you know that too much chocolate gives you heartburn? I didn't. But I'm a smart cookie, so I figured it out after I broke down and bought a box of dark chocolate covered cherries (they're not just for christmas anymore!) and ate....ahem....a few too many in one sitting.

Then, today, I ate a couple of the dark chocolate truffles I bought to replinish my boss' candy dish, and whamo. Hearburn. Very interesting.

And unfortunate too, as tonight is Martini Night with Jamie. We may end up at a wine bar, but Martini Night sounds so much classier, don't you think? I got the boots and the pearls goin' on. I'm ready to paint the town.

I just need to get rid of the heartburn first.

Revelation

Apparently, there is a direct correlation between my mood and my weekly massages.

I've been trying to save money, so I cut my appointments back to every couple of weeks. But I haven't been since Jan 14 my neck and back are so tight and jammed that I'm just mad. I've been standing most of the day, because sitting is just miserable, and I keep looking at the clock, trying to will it to go faster so I can go home and just lay down. My next appointment is Monday and it's a good thing. I see now the benefit of a standing appointment.

I may need to give up something else and get back into the weekly thing.
This is no fun.

A Must Have

New bumper stickers at Archie McPhee:

I will be stopping by there on my way home.
Let me know if you'd like me to pick one up for you.

I already have "Save Ballard".

Ladies Who Lunch

So, the gals and I did not go to a movie. We couldn't find anything worth our $10. And since it was such a beautiful day, it was suggested we take a walk by the water. Rachelle called Val to run the plan past her.

And then I got a call from Val saying "We're going to be ladies who lunch. Carrie's coming with us. We'll be over in a half hour." Well, okay fine. Guess I should shower, no?

So, we walked down to the Old Town Alehouse in Ballard and had a nice Sex in the City type of afternoon. Lots of sex talk and "Does he do this? Cause I don't know what I'm supposed to do when he does this......" kind of conversations. I laughed a lot and smiled at the thought of how much better my life is these days.

Then we toodled in and out of the shops and I'll have you know I refrained from buying red patent leather boots that were a mere $39. Yes, they're kids' boots, but remember, I can wear kids' shoes. Oh, they were pretty. Shiney.

And then I came home and cleaned. Cause that's what I do.
And then took an hour long bath while I read Running With Scissors.

A good night, indeed.

Weekend Update....Still in Progress

Friday night, the Sheauns and I went to the Christoff Gallery in Georgetown to hear Paul Benoit and Chris Chandler play. I didn't know much about Paul, but after seeing in twice in one month, I like him a lot. McP bought his cd and it's already uploaded into iTunes.

Saturday afternoon, Kim and Milo came over.

Isn't he just the cutest? Kim left him here for a few minutes while she walked around the block. She wanted to see how he would do with someone new. He didn't even notice she was gone. And he knows me now. When she hands him to me, he buries his face in my shoulder and grabs onto me. Baby lovin'. Fantastic.

That evening, I went over to McP's to watch a couple of movies. One of which was Pirates of the Caribbean 3. I'd seen the first one. Very good. Missed the second one, but McP said it was good.

The third one? Oh my gawd.

I couldn't understand any of the dialog and had no idea what the point of the thing was. And two hours and forty minutes? Are you freakin' kidding me? Am I just old now? Remember when movies used to be a mere hour and a half? Just long enough so that you were thankful it was over, but not long enough to make your back hurt from all that sitting? Oy.

We also watched Family Guy's Star Wars movie. Only an hour long. And hysterial. I'm all about cheap humor.

Sunday, grocery shopping. Woohoo. And it was just beautiful here! Blue skies, 60 degrees.

Sunday night, pool (finally!) with the Sheauns. Until all the balls got stuck in the table and we couldn't play anymore. Home by 10pm. Yuck.

And today, beautiful again! Rachelle and Val are talking about going to a movie. Rachelle has had the flu for about three weeks now, so even though she says she's up for it, I don't think she's going to be. I need to make some calls and coordinate. Yes, it's a holiday from work, but I'm still coordinating gatherings. It's just who I am now.

Isn't A Little Early In The Morning For A Heart Attack?

I am sitting here eating the most awesomest cinnamon roll EVER. The ooey gooey goodness is saturating the paper plate on which it sits and I have to use a knife and fork to manage it. It is exactly what I need this morning (in addition to my big ass latte) to get into gear.

Because I had two large glasses of David Lake Zinfandel last night with Jessica (who out did me with the three margaritas beforehand at dinner) and we didn't go to bed until after 11pm. I am pooped this morning.

What else did we wild-n-crazy girls go for valentine's day? Watched "Brokeback Mountain", a true love story, and ate a lot of ice cream.

And now, only 7.5 hours to go until the long weekend.

And speaking of big ass lattes and heart attacks, the line for the drive-thru Starbucks this morning was down into the parking lot, through the light, and out onto Westlake. People were back up for probably a quarter of mile, waiting for a $3 coffee. Because apparently it was easier than actually parking in one of the many free spots and walking in. That gave me a nice, big laugh this morning.

I got my latte at our bistro, in case you were wondering. So there.

A Striking Sign of Growth in Ballard

I've been wanting to take a picture of Edith Macefield's house for a while now, but never seem to have my camera with me when I drive by. Thank goodness there's a million other bloggers out there who are more on the ball.

I don't know who to credit for the photo, so be sure to click the link above and read about her. There's also a great article in the PI that has more background on Edith.

In short, she was offered 1 million dollars for her house and land. She refused. Now they're building around her. Everytime I drive by, I smile.......with a little saddness. Change is inevitable. But Edith is standing strong.

The Wake Up Cat

For all my feline lovin' friends. I'm sure you can relate.

Props For My Gals II

Let me tell you about one my most favorite people.

Two years ago, Jamie worked at my clinic as a scheduler. We weren't really buddies back then. We just kind of chatted when we saw each other. Then Jamie quit the clinic (while in her late 30s) to attend school to be a Radiation Therapist. Quite impressive. While in school, she worked as a per diem in our film room - still does, actually. And the film room and I used to share an office. So, Jamie would come in after school and sit in my office and we'd just gab away about clothes and shoes and food.

The pivotal point in my relationship with Jamie was May of 07. I was planning Steve's big birthday party (at work, for shame!) so I'd ask Jamie's opinion on things. Should we have gerberas, Steve's favorite flower, or roses, because they're more classic? Should we have the food on one big table, or spread it around the room? And that's when she just volunteered to help, which completely surprised me. We didn't know each other very well, but she was offering to help me with this huge project. Since I was starting to realize this party was going to be so much more than I had anticipated, I said sure!

Let me tell you, Jamie worked her ass off. She spent a whole Saturday shopping with me. The day of the party, she was there at 5pm sharp to decorate. She met the caterers when they arrived (because I had gone home to get pretty and pick up Steve). She mingled with complete strangers. She kept the food levels up to par. And I remember her coming up to me at one point during the night, saying "People are talking about leaving. You might want to put the cake out now. I've got the candles and the matches, just go stand over there..." She kept me focused and organized and she kept the party flowing while I was being the hostess with the mostest. She was my right hand woman.

We didn't talk for a few weeks after that, so the next email I sent her was the one telling her Steve and I had broken up. She recognized a need and once again, she immediately stepped up. And she's still stepping up.

At dinner Sunday night, I was telling her about someone I had met. I talked about him a little, quoted some of his emails that made me laugh. She didn't say much. Just "Oh yeah? Oh, that's good. " But then on our walk home, I mentioned something about him and she said "I think he would have a hard time keeping up with you."

Wha....? Keeping up with me?

"Yes, you are very vibrant and vivid and just present. You have a spark and just something. I think alot of it is the artist in you. Even when you are feeling low there is an inner light that is unmistakable, I think it draws people to you."

Really? Me?

I would have never imagined myself as someone with an inner light that's hard to keep up with. Especially as I sit here in front of my computer (as I have for the past three hours....yes, three hours) in my sweats, burping because I've been drinking pepsi all night.

I'm hard to keep up with?

Sometimes it takes your friends reflecting yourself back to you in order to get a less skewed picture of yourself. Jamie sees me in this weird light in which I've never seen myself. She's held (and is still holding) my hand through the worst year of my life and she always has nothing but positive and inspiring things to say to me and about me. She's gotten me to wear smalls instead of larges since I'm, you know, smaller now and she is the key advisor on the boudoir because she shares the same vision for a love nest as I do. I'm constantly texting her pictures of things that I think suit our vision.

She's teaching me to embrace being a single, strong woman and that lacey underwear is not just for special occasions because we should feel special every single day. And she assures me things are only going to get better from here.

Jamie is one of those people to which I will be forever connected. We may drift apart in the future, but one day I'll get a call out of the blue and hear "Hi cupcake! How ya doin'?" and we'll fall right back into it.

Here's props to Jamie, who loves champagne as much as I do.
Cheers!

And So It Begins.....

The nurses put out an email this morning about a Valentine's Day potluck. "Make something red, pink or white!" Wheee! Feel the love!

I replied with "I'm wearing black. Maybe even a veil. I will not be eating."

I am dreading this day. It shouldn't be a big deal. It's a greeting card holiday. It's a reason to wear red and put hearts everywhere. But people know it's cheesy so they go allllll out with the cheese. And then it's just nauseating. Especially when you have no one to cheese it up with.

Oh, but I do have a date Thursday night. Jessica, one of the people I lived with last summer, asked if I would be her valentine. Her man is out of town so we're going to go to dinner and then have a sleepover. Maybe rent some chick flicks, drink some wine, bitch about boys. So I won't be alone. And I thanked Jessica profusely for that.

Emotional Rollercoaster From Hell

My day was good. I was busy, I was productive, I felt good. I helped facilitate a move in the office (which I thoroughly enjoy doing), I made a doctor so happy he told me he loved me and I got emails from new friends that made me laugh so hard I had tears in my eyes.

My evening was good. I walked with Val and Rachelle and we gave updates on our ever-so-exciting lives. We brainstormed about what I want to do for my birthday. I'm thinking girls' spa day (no, Shaun, you can't come). We hugged goodbye and all was right with the world.

And then I came home. And I felt myself sink. Just a little. No new emails. No phone calls. No text messages. I made dinner. Pasta. Big deal. And then, because I was freezing (and let me tell you I have just about had it with being cold) I ran a scalding hot bath. And then I sat there and cried. For probably a good 20 minutes. And I'm still crying.

What the hell? Am I tired? Is it PMS? Are those pent up emotions that snuck out at SuperBowl leaking back out? Even without wine? Is it loneliness? Is it residule break up shit? Why am I still going through this? Is this me now? 98% happy, perky gal and 2% crying, pathetic mess?

I feel like I am on very thin ice. The ice is strong enough to hold me up but there are some areas that, if I let my guard down, my foot will go right through. And I have to be very, very careful not to panic and just tumble into the water. If my foot goes though, well, I need to calmly pull my foot back up and slowly back away from the hole. Then find a better path.

The pretty pink pills were like a big, insulated life vest. A pink one. That way, if I fell through the ice, I would just bobble for a bit until I could pull myself out. I wouldn't drown. Well, I have taken the life vest off. Either I didn't think it would do any good, or the shade of pink clashed with my skin tone. I can't remember. Regardless, I have no vest. And my foot is in the water and it's getting damned cold.

Maybe I just need to go to bed, and try again tomorrow.

****Update****

You know how when a baby is screaming and crying, you can turn on a hairdryer or vacuum cleaner and it will instantly distract them so that they stop crying because they forget what they were even crying about? Did you not know this? You should know this. It will come in handy.

Anyway, calling a girlfriend does the exact same thing. I called Jamie and she made me laugh and we made plans for lunch tomorrow and suddenly, I have no more tears to cry. I told her about the hairdryer and the crying baby and she said "What, are you saying I'm loud?" No, sweetie. You distract me and make me forget why I was even upset. You stood on the ice, threw a rope in and pulled me out of the water. You even had hot cocoa for me.....

Tomorrow's post - props for Jamie.

The Bunny Book

I want this book.


Just what every 30-something single gal needs. And it would look good on my bedside table.

Weekend Update

Well, I caucused Saturday. Not too difficult at all. I went in, found my precinct, realized it was the wrong precinct because they had my old address, found the new precinct, wrote The Name, filled out a change of address form and left. I know that after I left, people were divided into groups and there was a lot of discussion and people tried to pursuade people, and that's where politics lose me. I did my part. I may not have gotten the full experience, but at least I went. So there.

Then I went all the way down to Covington for a party. Hung out there until about 5pm, then came all the way back to Seattle to have dinner with the Sheauns and see "Into the Wild". Good movie. Long movie. But a good movie.

And then home and into the jammies.

Sunday, I slept until 11:30am. I'm not sure why. I blame the drive to Covington.

I made breakfast, talked to mom and dad for an hour, watched "Sleepless in Seattle". I finally got motivated around 5pm when Jamie emailed and mentioned she was trying to think of something for dinner. I immediately called her and said "I need a reason to leave the house. Let's go eat." She's good for impromptu plans like that.

Then back home and back into the jammies. It was dark and windy all day so it was a good curl-up-and-watch-tv day. Not a thrilling weekend, but that's okay. It was nice.

And here we are at Monday. If I can just get through this week, I will be rewarded with Monday off! Presidents' Day! Whatever shall I do on this long weekend?

G&D and Caucus Day!

After a slow and painful day at work yesterday, I had dinner with Val at the George & Dragon, her equivalent of my Lock-n-Keel (except I doubt she's had some of the same drunken experiences at G&D. She doesn't drink) . I've been there before, but it was never really on my radar. It is now. The ratio of women to men is about 1:10. The odds are in my favor. Which is why, now that I think about it, Shaun never liked that place too much. Funny.

Anyway, we had planned just to eat and then go watch a movie, but the people watching was too good, so we hung out until about 11pm.

This afternoon, I have a housewarming/engagement party down in Covington. A small town about 40 miles away. Shoot me. But you do whatcha gotta do for your friends, right? Maybe I'll hit the Macy's Outlet that's down there, too. See what kind of chairs they have. I'm tired of living room being empty.

Oh, but first, I must caucus. In a mere two hours. I'm trying not to think too much about the logistics. If I do, I'll wimp out because it will feel intimidating. So I won't think too much about it. I will shower. I will walk down to the school. I will follow the crowd. Won't think too much.

And that is my day.
Happy Saturday!

I Think I'm In Heat

The new floors now cover the entire hallway at work. It's horrible. And the smell is choking me.

But anyway, the real story. I got here this morning, unlocked and opened my door and slammed it back against the wall so it would catch on the little doorstop hookie thing. Well, the doorstop hookie thing was missing but it was early and I hadn't had my coffee yet, so this didn't occur to me for about 30 or 40 seconds. On most days, it takes a couple of tries to get it latched.

After a bit, I realized that something was wrong because the door just wasn't catching. I finally looked down and saw the problem. Perfect. So I called the project manager, told him my doorstop hookie thing was missing and he said he'd send someone over.

An hour later, A Construction Dude came over. Complete with facial hair. And a tool belt. I gave him a hard time about the floors. He assured me it was the night crew. He said he wouldn't do something so mean as to change out the floors without asking me. I may have laughed too loudly. And tossed my hair.

I fear I have become one of those women.

A Wild & Crazy Thursday Night

I sense that Thursday night will turn into Grooming Night. I painted my nails, plucked my eyebrows, exfoliated. I figure, I clean and do laundry on Wednesdays. Why not groom on Thursdays? Then Friday, I'm ready for the men.

(laugh)

I'm very funny. There are no men.

But my eyebrows look good and my nails are shiny, so I'm ready.
Should one just pop up.

Whew, Heat Wave! And Who Put This Floor Here?

It's amazing how you get used to the cold around here. For the longest time, I would wake up and it would be 28 or 34 degrees. So I'd put on a turtleneck and my wool coat and brave the frigid drive to work.

But today, when I woke up, the radio said it was 42. Holy crap. That's like a heat wave! I didn't even bother with the wool coat. Just my casual sweater and a scarf. But I would bet some people don't think 42 is very warm at all, huh?

Look at me! I'm acclimating! I CAN change!

I say that, but then I get to work, walk in the door from the stairwell and suddenly there's a new floor. I froze. And just stared at it. We used to have carpet. We still have carpet in most of the area, but they're slowly ripping that up and laying down this bright cream colored "clinic" floor. Kind of looks like marmoleum (which I called marbleoleum for the longest time).

I was like an ant who had a twig fall in their path. I couldn't move. Didn't know what to do. Can I walk on it? I have heels on, will that hurt it? Who did this? I ran into the construction guys while getting my coffee and asked them "Did you put that new floor in?!" They were surprised. I guess they rarely get confronted.

So, I can acclimate to the weather, but I haven't acclimated to the new floor yet.

And next week my desk gets reconfigured. We'll see how I deal with that.

Super Tuesday Update (or Huckadate)

Katie Couric just made a very funny joke. Something about people hopping on the Huckabus. Could you imagine if our next president was name Huckabee? Oh, holy crap. He doesn't twang like Bush, but with a name like Huckabee, it's just as bad. How can you say Huckabee without twanging? And everything would be Hucka-something. The Huckabudget. The Huckahouse. We could possibly become the Huckastates.

And poor Katie keeps getting McCain and Romney mixed up when talking about them. "They won't like that one bit!" It's a good thing she's cute. Because she's ain't doing so well tonight.

It's A Good Thing I Don't Have Cats, Too

I lost some DVDs in The Separation. Steve divided up the movies one day after I left and I was sad to see some of them in his pile but thought, oh well, they're just movies. Actually, thinking back, I don't think I could name one that he kept. Except Shaun of the Dead and Once Upon A Time In Mexico, which I've already replaced.

So I have this routine now. Every other Friday, before my therapy appointment, I walk down the street to Jive Time Records. They have a big bin of used DVDs that range from $5 to $8. I'll pick up one or two, either to replace one I lost (once I recognize the title as one that was on our shelf), or one that's more recent that I want.

Except in my old age, I can't remember what I have and what I need to get. So I sat down tonight and typed up a list of my current DVDs (alphabetized, of course) and a list of the video tapes I have that I need to get on DVD, since I don't have a VHS player. I should probably get a little cheap one because I have videos from vacation and stuff that I want to watch every now and then.

Anyway.

Now I can keep this list in my wallet and when I run across a movie, instead of thinking to myself "Do I have that one? Or did Steve keep that one?" I can just look at my list.

Nifty, huh?

What? Crazy, you say? Well. Maybe a little.

And since we're on that subject, I'm also thinking of putting some sort of check list up by my straightener in the bathroom. I don't use the straightener every day, but when I do, I get halfway to work and think, "Did I unplug my straightener?!" More often than not, yes, I unplugged it. But I've come home twice to find it still plugged in and hotter than shit. I may very well burn the building down one day.

So now, I do a frightening little dance and sing a song that goes something like "I turned the iron off! I turned the iron off! Won't burn down the house today, cause I turned the iron off!". You have to picture me in my Seahawks sweatshirt and my fuzzy slippers, shakin' my groove thang. This little dance makes my morning noteworthy and I feel comfortable that I will remember I've turned my straightener off. Ya know, cause I did The Dance.

Same thing with the oven. Different song, though.

And now my question to you, dear reader:
Should I maybe keep these little quirks to myself, just in case the man I'm destined to marry accidently runs across this blog while googling me after we meet at the Fremont Market and he asks me out for coffee?

Or does it just make me cute?

Super Tuesday and I'm Feelin' Good

Guess what? I feel good. And I'm even wearing a thong today! Normally, that'll squash my mood pretty quick.

I got about 12 hours of sleep last night. I'm sure that's helping. My headache, be it wine or migraine, is gone. And because I'm feelin' so good, I got my pearls on. My co-workers know it's a good day when I got my pearls on.

And I've got Feelin' Good by Michael Buble running through my head. It kinda makes me wanna strip. I won't though. It's the whole big band boom-chicka-boom thing. Maybe I'll create a playlist on my iPod entitled Strippin'. Get my showgirls thang on.

Where was I?

Oh, right. I'm feelin' good.

And! I'm excited about this whole Super Tuesday thing.
I know!

I've never followed politics. Never. It's confusing and overwhelming and it just bums me out. But then Steve guilted me into voting for the first time in the last presidential election. I think we ended up going through a couple of bottles of wine while watching Dan Rather's coverage, which was unbelievably entertaining. "He swept through the South like a tornado through a trailer park." Fantastic. Dan Ratherisms. And someone compiled them all. Ya gotta love the internet.

So I voted, and I lost and well, I gave up hope.

Ah, but this year is proving to be damned exciting. Hope is almost a tangible thing! I'm checking CNN every half hour (Huckabee wins WV? Really? What the.....?) and looking at numbers that make absolutely no sense to me. I've tried reading up on it and figuring it out, but all I can come up with is that I want someone's numbers to be higher than someone else's numbers. That's it. I am curious what a Superdelegate is, though. And do they wear a costume?

We Washington folks don't get to vote until Saturday. But I got my absentee ballot in the mail yesterday. It's already filled it out. I AM READY!

And! It's Fat Tuesday to boot! Although, I've never really participated in Mardi Gras. Too many people. But I have lots of beads. I could wear those around the house tonight while I'm cleaning and look all festive. Oooh, then I'll put on "Feelin' Good" and prance around, swingin' my hips and twirlin' the beads, Swiffer in hand.......

My mother is having a heart attack right now. I just know it.

Happy Super Fat Tuesday!
(Mmmm, makes me want a cheeseburger.....)

Hope For Ballard

An article in the Seattle Times today gives us apartment renters some hope.

OLYMPIA — Renters forced from their apartments to make way for condominiums would get more time to find a new home and extra money to pay for it under a new law expected to pass the Legislature.

House and Senate bills being considered could require developers to pay many tenants up to three months rent in relocation assistance, provide at least 120 days' notice for a condo conversion, and ban construction work during the notice period.

I didn't know it was the developers who had to offer relocation assistance. And if they would be required to pay three month's rent to the tenant (roughly $2400 per tenant, since rents run around $800 in Ballard), rather than the measly $500, that might make them think differently about starting a project. Maybe? Wishful thinking?

The cap also makes me hopeful. Sure, convert a couple of buildings into condos, but ALL OF THEM? What are those of us who can't even afford to buy a $250,000 studio condo supposed to do? Why, move to Shoreline, of course! It should be a simple concept: don't convert every single apartment building because then there will be no apartments to rent. And these freakin' real estate people think EVERYONE should buy something need to just shut it. Sound investment. Why waste money on rent? Well, that's my choice. Not yours.

*sigh*

Okay, I'm done now. Just needed to get that off my chest.

The Organizational Junkie Strikes Again

I was keeping my scarves, hats and gloves in a little basket on the shelf in my coat closet. That got to be a major pain in my ass. To the point to where I finally just threw the basket on the living room floor, by the couch, and would sort through it there. It just wasn't worth the effort to put it back up on the shelf every time I took it down to sort through it.

And then it hit me.
A shoe organizer!


And I've organized my stuff according to frequency of use. The top slot is my walking hat and gloves, because I dig for those the most. Next couple of slots are scarves that I wear occasionally, but my everyday scarf is hanging up on the door of the closet on a plastic, adhesive back hook. I don't want to even have to dig first thing in the morning as I'm running out the door. The rest of the slots have maybe three hats in one because I don't wear them that often, so we can lump them together. Same for my foo foo gloves. And my summer hat gets it's own slot.

Actually, I was thinking a clear, back of the door shoe organizer because my cousin, Tricia, has one of those on her bathroom door and it holds her shampoo, sunblock, lotions, etc. But I didn't the the little pouches would be big enough to hold scarves. And I was right. I'm glad I went with this kind of shoe organizer.

You're impressed.
I can tell.

Weekend Update

Dinner club on Friday was nice. Lots of gals, lots of food, lots of girl talk. I ended up staying a few hours. I would have loved to have stayed longer, but my head was still killing me. So much so that, while I laid down around 10pm, I didn't actually fall asleep until after midnight. I hate that.

Saturday, I ended up sleeping until almost 1pm. I guess headaches really drain you. I got up, ate something, then laid back down for two hours. So Saturday was shot.

I did go out to my gal's dinner that evening. My friend would have beaten me if I had bailed. And I treated myself a filet mignon wrapped in bacon. Oh boy. Good stuff. And I don't normally eat steak. But since we went a steak house, well, I got the steak. Could have gotten the salmon, but I have salmon all the time. So I got steak.

Afterwards, I swung by the Fiddler's Inn to join the Sheauns and a couple of other friends for some live music. But the headache was back in full swing by this time, so I was very out of it and just wanted to go home. Which I did. Around midnight.

Sunday, I was up early thanks to my upstairs neighbor. Her mother was packing to leave and apparently is not used to having someone living below her. She made no attempt to be quiet at 8:30am. So like it or not, rested or not, headache or not! I was up early.

I went by Target before heading to Shaun's for the superbowl. And I purchased two new lampshades for The Boudoir. No, no lamps. Just the shades. Baby steps.

Then off to watch the SuperBowl.
And here's where it all goes downhill.

Guess whose inner-alcoholic pushed her off the wagon, face first in the mud, and made her drink an entire bottle of wine by herself? And then gave her a camera?

And guess who hid her phone (no drunk texting!) and keys, but kept refilling her glass until we were completely out of wine?

(And then there's the good, sober Rachelle. Crocheting. Not knitting, mind you! Crocheting. There is a difference!)

Yes, quite the SuperBowl party. Shaun let me vent and cry for what felt like hours after Raechelle and Claudia left. Apparently, I still have some pent up emotions that could only be released with a good Cabernet. And those emotions are now all over Shaun's couch pillows. I should wash those for him.

And yes, the game itself was a shocker. Who knew the Giants would actually win? And the poor Patriots! To go alllllll season, undefeated, only to lose in the SuperBowl? Man. I bet they're in a sad state today.

And here we are at Monday. Yes, I still have a headache, but I now can't determine if it's the migraine or a hangover. I'll re-assess the situation tomorrow.

Everything Happens For A Reason

The Lock Vista apartments will not be turned into condos! At least, not right now.

But it's still good that I didn't move in there. My apartment is bigger, brighter and cheaper. Yes, everything happens for a reason.

"I Don't Drink Coffee, It Gives Me A Headache...."

Apparently, I get migraines. Who knew?

I was watching Lost last night and I got those little squigglies/zigzags in my eyes and couldn't see well for a bit. This happens maybe twice a year. And I thought, oh, the headache will be here shortly. I didn't have anything to take (except hydrocodon and I thought that might be overkill) so I just went to bed. Woke up this morning and holy crap. I could barely open my eyes. Blowdrying my hair made me want to scream. Went in to work late.

Made it two hours. I closed the door in my office, turned off the lights and put in ear plugs (god bless the MRI techs) but the automatic door down the hall was still too much noise. Finally, one of my supervisors said to just go home. I wasn't being the least bit productive. And no one else was either because when I woke up at 5:30 this evening and checked my work email, I had six new emails. Since 11:30am. And none of them needed any action. They were merely FYIs (actually, four of them were morons replying to all with "Yes, I'm free at 2pm." Don't reply all for that kind of shit. It just contributes to the already massive number of emails people get.)

Yes, quiet day at the office.

The headache is better, but my eyes are still sensitive. I can't help but squint. And now I have to run off to dinner club (13 women, tons of food). I should skip it, but this is almost like going to a business meeting. I need to network, meet people, be social with strangers. And I made greenbean casserole. The theme is Recipes on Packaging.

So, I'll hang out for an hour or so, then back home, back to bed.

Happy Friday.