Who Is The Biggest Bitch Of Them All?

The word "bitch" has been used to describe me on more than one occasion. This doesn't really upset me anymore.

There's a fine line between being a bitch and being forthright, or frank. I used to have that oh-I-have-to-be-liked-by-everyone-or-I-will-just-die! mentality, so I would tiptoe around topics and falter when asking someone to do something. But as I get older (and still look like I'm 20) I've learned that I have to be painfully direct sometimes. And in my position, I have to work with difficult people to get things done. I have some authority and my bosses keep telling me to use it.

But being frank and direct also comes in handy when people are just flat out pissing me off.

I ordered a big ass bulletin board for someone, but they failed to actually measure the wall first, so the bulletin board is too big. She fully admitted that her natural hair color is blond. So, the bulletin board has to go back. But there's nowhere to put it until then, so it's in the hallway, outside of my office.

And all morning, people would walk by, see this bulletin board, then stick their head in my office and say, "You know ya got a big bulletin board out here?" or "Hey, what's this big bulletin board for?"

This is the kind of shit that will make me snap.

So I put a sign on the bulletin board - that pink piece of paper:



"Please do not tell me there is a bulletin board out here. I am well aware. Thanks, Raechelle."

Now, the smart people around here understand what this sign means. They know that I am sick and tired of people commenting about this thing, and they walk by my office and smile, but they do not say anything. They love me. And they know. They just know.

But the newbies.....ah, they think it's funny. So, to fit in and pal around, they poke their head in and say, "Hey! (hee hee) Ya know ya got a board out here? (hee hee)"

They think they're being social and cute. They don't know about Raechelle's temper and her short fuse. And, unfortunately, as in every learning situation, an example must be set.

Newbie [poking his head in]: Hey! (hee hee) I don't know if you know this.....

Me [in my very serious voice]: I swear to gawd if you mention that bulletin board I will throw this stapler at you, do you hear me?

Newbie [blink blink]: Oh....uh.....sorry....

This newbie probably doesn't like me now. I'm okay with that.
And it's been three hours since anyone has mentioned the bulletin board to me.

A Small Example Of Why My Mother Is My Best Friend

My morning email to mom:

From: Raechelle
Sent: Monday, March 31, 2008 11:36 AM
To: Mama
Subject: mornin'

How are you?
I am bored.
I am tired.
Want to be independently wealthy.

love ya
b

Mom's reply:

From: Mama
To: Raechelle
Subject: RE: mornin'
Date: Today 10:14am

I am fine.
I can't help you.
I still can't help you.
And I still can't help you (unless you marry one of those rich doctors!)

I love you too.
Mom

Quiet Weekend

Not a whole lot to report from Raechelle-land.

I just cancelled my Match membership. I had made a tentative date for this evening with one of the three guys I met, but he ended up falling to the bottom of the priority list and, honestly, I'd rather just go to bed than meet up with him. That, my friends, is a clear sign.

I did make a plan to meet up with Match guy #2 this week. We'll refer to him as SanFran Man, since he just moved up here from San Francisco in November. He's low energy. At our date two weeks ago, we just babbled about random stuff the whole night. It was easy and there was never really that awkward silence. So, meeting up and having a drink doesn't really stress me out. The other guy? Stresses me out.

And then there was a third date that I may have just failed to mention altogether. Totally not worth the energy it would take to tell you how icky it was.

**********

I just went upstairs and introduced myself to Esther, my new neighbor. Nice girl. Eyebrows so shapely and pointy you think they're going to fly off her face and stab you. And she plays guitar and sings. Heard her last night. So we talked about singing and playing.

I did not ask about her laundry day. I think I'm just going to drop my off at the wash and fold place tomorrow.

**********

Yesterday afternoon, I went to Burien (shoot me) to see Nichole's final wedding dress selection. She did good. The dress is beautiful. And believe it or not, I found yet another wedding dress that I would not be opposed to wearing, should that mythical wedding day ever happen in my lifetime.

*sigh*

No, no one has applied to be my Sugar Daddy or my Baby's Daddy. Maybe someone could check the "Email Me!" link. Just to be sure it's working?

**********

I took little Milo for a walk today. And I very cleverly roped Jamie into going with us. Only after she agreed that a walk would be a good idea, did I ask her "Do you mind if we take a 9 month old cutie pie with us?" Bad, aren't I?

I don't think she minded too much as she oohed and ahhed over him and even took pictures with her phone. Yes, I think she had an okay time.

**********

Then I met up with an old friend, K-Ski (I'm getting good at the monikers, huh?). I think we'd last seen each other in August, so she asked to get all caught up. I told her about the fiasco and the shit that hit the fan and at the end she just said, "Wow, Raechelle. And look at you now! You're doing great! Good for you!"

That's exactly what I needed to hear.

**********

And here we are.

I haven't slept much the last two nights, so I'm looking forward to taking a soakie and then just crashing. I have every evening this week booked. Jessica stays tomorrow, walking (hopefully) on Tuesday, San Fran Man maybe Wednesday, maybe a movie on Thursday.

**********

And a special end note:

Shaun bought me a chocolate bunny for easter.
Everyone now: Ahhhhhhh

Except he forgot to give it to me when I was over there last Sunday evening.
Everyone now: For shame!

It's not hollow, but it's chocolate and it's a bunny and that's all that matters.

Happy Friday!

And because I have nothing interesting to share with you today, please enjoy this song by Flight of the Conchords.

Monokini

I can't tell you how happy I am that the monokini is back in style.

Or has it been back in style for a while, but I'm just noticing?

Anywho, I had a couple of these when I was...ahem....younger and they are very flattering for those of us who have big ol' child bearing hips and a rather large boobular area. And, unfortunately, I will need to buy a new swimsuit this summer.

My two piece looks ridiculous on me now.

I Am A Moron, Reason 168

I try to multitask at the absolute wrong time.

Like when I'm closing a drawer and I suddenly remember something I need to get out of the drawer so I think I can reach in and get it AND close the drawer AT THE SAME TIME. Then I wonder why my fingers hurts.

Or I try to lock the door to save myself time but forget that I haven't even opened the door yet, so I try to yank open the door, but the door is already locked so my hand slips off and hits 1) me, 2) the door or 3) the doorjam.

Or I want to grab something really quickly out of the cabinet so I open the cabinet, but my brain doesn't give my hand enough time to actually reach in the cabinet, grasp what I need, then remove my hand, so I end up slamming the door of the cabinet on my hand.

Yes, there is a reason this topic has suddenly popped into my head. And I am typing without the use of two of fingers.

What Can I Tell You?

Let's see...

I tried to shop on Sunday. Everything was closed. Big stuff, like Target, was closed. Who knew? I braved blinding rain to go all the way down to Ikea for my nightstands and, while Ikea was actually open (and full of children in their easter church going attire) they were out of the nightstands. Wonderful. Every other store I tried to hit was closed, so I came home. Only to find that Aurora was also closed so I sat in traffic (still in the blinding rain), talking to mom on my headset (and accidently using the F a lot because I was extremely upset) for a very long time.

Once I got home, I immediately got into my jammies (or as Jessica calls them - pjammies. Which I absolutely love.) and curled up on the couch for the rest of the day. And then the sun came out. Freakin' fantastic.

**********

I lost my nosering. I was cleaning it and it fell down the sink drain THROUGH THE HAIRTRAP. Tenacious little thing. Since I was going up to Capital Hill Sunday evening to watch a movie with the Sheauns, I just walked to Laughing Buddha and got another one. However, it was apparently too small because the post kept falling and poking out of my nostril. Which will never do. So I called the apartment maintenance people yesterday and asked if they could please remove the elbow from the sink drain and see if the stud was still in there. And it was. I found it on my sink when I got home yesterday. Whew. Crisis averted.

And I think I'll drop off some brownies for the maintenance guy because I felt really weird asking him to fish my nosering out of a drain.

**********

Jessica stayed last night. We went to Blue C for dinner and to trivia at a pub afterwards. When we got home, she let me subject her to home movies for merely the cost of a bottle of wine. As long as her glass was full, she was enthralled in the videos. And that is why I love her.

**********

I have not seen Jamie since Thursday and I'm starting to have withdrawals. So we're having dinner tonight.

**********

My birthday is coming up.
Wha...? Who said that?

**********

I'm either depressed or getting a cold. I have no appetite today. And that is a clear sign that something is wrong. Maybe I just need a hug. It's amazing what just a hug can do for your well being. Everyone should get a hug at least once a day. From someone. Except from a crazy person on the street because that may not be so good for your well being.

But it might help them.

**********

I did not get a hollow chocolate easter bunny this year. Now, I'm not blaming anyone, I'm just letting you know. It's probably best. I don't need the calories. I tried on all of my shorts recently, and believe it or not, they're all too big. I see more shopping in my future. Especially since....

**********

I bought my first plane ticket of the summer! Going to Nestorville for a week in July. I'm going to run around barefoot (well, walk around. I don't run unless there is something very large and scary chasing me), play in the creek and discuss all of the pros and cons of cow manure. It is truly a magical time.

**********

Hmm. And I think you're all caught up now.

Happy Easter

We were sure I was destined to be a Playboy Bunny.
I think it was the afro that that doomed me.....

A Sneak Peek Into The Secret Lives Of Women

The curtains got put up Thursday night!

Jessica was staying over, and Jamie had a horrible day, so I made dinner and we cracked open a bottle of wine.

Then we broke out the drill.

Jamie drilled.


Jessica drilled.


Watching them was exhausting!

Oh, I did my part. There was so much dust!


And you men thought it was all pillow fights in lingerie......

Just need the nightstands and something for above the bed. Then you get pictures!

Paranoia Is Nothing New To Me

This is the kind of freak accident that could possibly make me hole up in my bathroom for the rest of my life.

But that has it's own dangers now, doesn't it?

Wash-n-Fold ROCKS

I could quite possibly become addicted to dropping my laundry off.

My whites were all in their own little bag. My darks were all in their own little bag. Everything was folded oh so carefully. Everything smells fantastic and my Friday evening is magically free!

I may have to budget in this lovely service.

The Laundry Stress Is Back

My upstairs neighbor, Sally, moved out. If you remember, Sally and I switched laundry days so I got rid of the whole Friday laundry day and moved to Wednesday, which I thought would work perfectly since Lost was on Wednesdays. But now it's on Thursdays. Funny, huh?

Well, now I'm back to Fridays. And I haven't laundry in over two weeks. All of my jeans are dirty, my fancy new undies are dirty and I'm almost out of towels. So, I dropped it off at the wash-n-fold place in Fremont this morning on my way to work. Know how much laundry a gal accumulates in two weeks, not counting her primary work clothes because those are dry cleaned (or Dryeled, because I don't do dry cleaners)?

Twenty pounds. 2-0.
And we're looking at $1.10 a pound, which I originally thought would be NOTHIN' because how much can laundry really weigh?

Twenty pounds. That's how much.

I figured if I'm getting my laundry done, might as well grab anything and everything in the apartment that needs washed, so I'm sure most of that is towels, some of which were wet.

Yes, quite the lesson learned. Now, if I just take it once a week, it would probably be about five pounds and I would remember not to take the wet towels. I may just put up a sign above the mailboxes in my building:

"Would anyone be interested in switching laundry days with me? My laundry day is currently Friday, but I'm a single gal and that's a primo date night, so it doesn't really fit my schedule. Maybe I could just share a day? I work during the day and would only be able to laundry in the evenings. Thanks."

The wash-n-fold place could get really expensive.....

Quick Weekend Update

Rumor has it, you're jonesing for an update.

Friday - happy hour with co-workers, then catching up on Lost with McP because we missed it Thursday while dining with Shaun.

Saturday - Blunch with JamieB, then more shopping. Actually, shopping was unproductive. Which is probably best. Got the shears for the bedroom, now just waiting for the curtains to arrive. That evening, more Lost with McP. I made the offhanded comment I'd like to watch the very first episodes now that we've come so far, just to see if there were any clues in the beginning. So we rented the first couple of disks of season 1. I wouldn't say there were a lot of clues, but it was interesting.

Sunday - grocery shopping. Cleaning. Kim came by for a bit to visit. Talked with mom. Fell asleep on the couch at 7pm. Woohoo.

And here we are on this fabulous Monday. Note my saracasm. It's like everyone finally woke up around here and wants everything done RIGHT NOW. Well, where the hell have you guys been for the past two months when I've had nothing to do but twiddle my thumbs? Sheesh.

Jessica is staying over tonight so we're gonna party it up in Ballard.
Party. Ha. We'll see.

Happy St Patrick's Day

Couldn't have said it better meself.

Match Guy #2.....

May have shot himself in the foot last night.

We talked on the phone for a while. Nice guy. Very funny. Normal (yes, it's worth noting).

Likes to write but hates the time it takes to actually write, so I asked if he blogged.

And he went off on this very long tangent of how blogs are so weird and just silly and he can't believe there are so many out there and there's NEVER been one that's actually seemed interesting and we have editors for a reason.


*insert crickets chirping*


Um....


*chirp, chirp*


Okay then.

I can write about this because, obviously, he doesn't read blogs.

Freegan = Not Me

I just ran across the term "freegan" in one of the blogs I read daily. I've never heard this term before, so of course I have to research it. Cause I'm addicted to the internet. And it's a slow day at work.

Apparently, a freegan is someone who "employs alternative strategies for living based on limited participation in the conventional economy and minimal consumption of resources." I have all kinds of editorial comments going in my head that I could say here, but I'm choosing to be impartial. To each their own. Who am I to judge?

However, this spurs a topic that I've had in my head for a while but haven't blogged about. Consumerism.

I feel guilty now when I shop. Which means I've been feeling guilty quite a lot lately. I mutter to myself, "I'm just part of the problem..." as I'm driving up the ramp to the Target parking lot, along with all the other people who are 1) wasting gas to shop for things they don't need, 2) spending money they probably don't have and 3) adding to the piles of stuff that they will end up just throwing away because they're buying even more stuff.

I normally get in this mindset when I'm shopping for unnecessary things. Say, lamps, pillows, slipcovers......things like that. I really don't need these things in order to survive. And I could be doing better things with that money. Like, oh I don't know, grocery shopping so I don't have to eat bacon for dinner.

Now, when I'm shopping for new clothes because I've lost weight and none of my pants fit anymore, I feel very justified in my shopping. But I feel like I need to explain to someone that I'm not just shopping to shop. I'm not one of those women who just buys, buys, buys. I really do need clothes! I'm not part of the problem right this very minute!

I was rambling to Jamie about this in Target a few weeks ago when I bought the lampshades.

"I will survive just fine without lampshades. I don't NEED them. I love them, but I don't NEED them. So, maybe I shouldn't buy them. But it's not like I'm shopping frivolously. Okay the $18 thongs were a bit frivolous, but for the most part, I don't shop needlessly, right? I'm not irresponsible. Am I?"

(Honestly, I don't know why she likes hanging out with me. I'm exhausting.)

Jamie's response?

"Raechelle, if you were spending $200 on lampshades and then in a couple of months you decided you didn't really like them and went out and spent another $200 on lampshades, then you would be irresponsible. But these are $30. FOR BOTH OF THEM. Just buy the damn things so I can go look at bras!"

See why I love her? She grounds me.

Since I've been in Seattle (can you believe it will be nine years this July?) I've gotten a lot better about reusing. Buying stuff off craigslist and from Goodwill has, hopefully, helped cut down on what goes to landfills and donating my things, rather than throwing them away, makes me feel okay about purging.

But the guilt is still there. It's like the rain - it just seeps into you. Something about this city. I've tried analyzing WHY I buy this stuff. Why is it important to me? Why do I need to have the lampshades match? Why do I need two lamps? There's only one of me. Who's going to use that lamp on the passenger side of the bed? There are no passengers (and this makes me very sad*). Am I a shallow person because I want my lampshades to match?

This may explain why I'm not sleeping very soundly during the night. Too much goin' on in the old noggin. Now, there's one perk to drinking. Do enough of it and by golly, you'll sleep through the night.

That's probably not a healthy way of thinking is it? Sorry.

Anywho, maybe I should bring this up in therapy. Or maybe I should just say screw it, quit thinkin' so much.

Which leads me to, did I mention I just ordered the curtains for the bedroom? Should be in today or tomorrow. Once I get those up, we're more than half way to the completed Boudoir. All that's left are new nightstands (because mine just don't match the dresser, or my vision) but they're not crucial so we can wait on those, and then something on wall behind the bed until I can get a frame with a headboard (but, again, that's not crucial. I have the bed, that's the big thing).

And I'm not posting photos until it's all done, so you'll just have to wait. I know it's just killing you.

(*If you would like to apply to be my passenger, please click the "Email Me!" link to your right. You'll have access to your own lamp and beside table, complete with drawer. A photo will ensure a speedy interview process.)

Know What Happens When You Eat Bacon For Dinner?

Just bacon?
You dream of Bono. Try it sometime.

At first, he was just a random producer (this is a direct result of a craigslist ad. A producer posted an ad under Rants and Raves asking why he wasn't he getting laid as often as he thought he would, being a producer and all. Women should be falling at his feet! But they're not!). We were laying on the floor, looking at old concert footage of bands. Then U2 appeared on the screen and I said, "Wait. Is that here [in Seattle]?" He said yes, at the somethingerother, a very small venue downtown. I asked how U2 could have possibly played that venue. There would be way too many people. The producer told me this footage was from the 80s, before they were huge (forget the fact they were already huge in the 80s). I understood how special this footage was. I was in awe.

Then I was laying next to Bono. It was all very PG, Bono's a stand up guy so he's not going to cheat on his wife. As a matter of fact, the phone rang while we were cuddling and he answered it "Hello dahling...." Such a nice man.

Anywho, then we pulled out the couch to go to sleep and he set up the playpen in the corner, then he magically disappeared and replaced by some old lady in a house dress who was mumbling about the ceiling and how it was going to burst at any minute and there were six TVs in the little kitchen, all of them tuned to a different station, and I asked if we could maybe turn them off and she said "After christmas."

No more bacon for dinner.
And maybe I should go grocery shopping.

I Think The Red Panties In The Bathroom Are Working!

Do you follow feng shui?

From Wikipedia:
"Feng shui is an ancient Chinese practice believed to utilize the Laws of both Heaven, (astronomy), and Earth, (geography), to help one improve life by receiving positive Qi."

An example? My bed is opposite the door in my bedroom, so my feet point out the door. This allows qi to move to quickly out of the room and that can cause restless sleep. The fix? Hang wind chimes between the end of the bed and the door to slow the qi down. Simple, huh? Also, you don't want a window at the head of your bed. The Qi will go right out the window. And you may worry about intruders while you sleep. So, the bed should be against a solid wall. And don't store things under the bed. Qi can't flow freely if there's all kinds of junk under there.

I'm not a strict feng shui-er, but I have some books, I know some things, and I try to keep these things in mind.

When Jamie first came over to my new place, she immediately noticed that my love corner was in my bathroom. She said I needed to throw some red lacey panties in there. Really get the good juju movin'.

Well, I'm not one to just toss panties on the floor and leave them there, but I hand washed my hanky pankies last week and hung them on the door knob to dry. And they look so pretty, I just left them.

I asked Jamie (at the girls' dinner Saturday night, after a couple of margaritas), "Do the panties have to be in the far corner of the love corner, or can they hang on door in the love corner's room?" She laughed and said, "I think on the door is fine, Raechelle."

So they're still hanging on the door. I also hung one of my new swanky nighties on the back of the door, just for good measure.

And this week, I've gotten asked out for two coffee dates. And rumor has it a third is hovering nearby. Hmmm....coincidence?

I think not.

The Year of Raechelle

Did I tell you I bought new dishes? On a whim?

I argued with The Ex for over a year about buying new dishes. He brought his Goodwill dishes to the relationship, I brought mine, and I just wanted matching dishes. Not china. Not a fancy place setting for 20 people, just new matching dishes. How difficult is that?

Apparently, pretty damn difficult for some people. We couldn't agree on a color. Couldn't agree on what type of bowls, how many settings, designs or solids. Oh, for the love of puppies, they're just dishes! But dishes represented a whole big can o' worms to The Ex. Forget the fact we had a joint checking account and that he was on my insurance as a domestic partner. New, matching dishes meant we were Serious.

After one of the many where-is-this-relationship-going talks, The Ex saw that he was being silly and said, in much the same tone he would say "I love you":

"Go buy the dishes."

You would think he had proposed to me. I was giddy. I knew what a big step this was and by golly, I was out the next day buying dishes.

When I moved out, we semi divided them up. I left all of the bowls. They were suited for him and his cereal - who knew some bowls aren't good for cereal? (And who knew I would ever be with a man who could eat an entire box of Captain Crunch in one sitting?) I took all of the big plates because he didn't like them and we split the little plates.

Last weekend, I took everything to Goodwill. And, oh my god, you have no idea how freeing it was. Letting go of something that constantly reminded me of a crappy afternoon, almost breaking up, then being so freakin' happy that my boyfriend gave me permission to buy dishes. How pathetic do I look in that scene?

I am no longer asking for permission to buy dishes. I bought the damn dishes. White ones. Because they're clean and airy and simple and they are EXACTLY what I want. And the bowls are not at all cereal friendly.

I also bought new lamps for my bedroom. I searched and search for exactly what I wanted, and I found them (on sale, no less). And I love them. Every time I turn on the light, I think "These are mine. They don't belong to anyone else."

This is the Year of Raechelle. I declare it. I've spent way too many years catering to someone else and their issues. I think I owe it to myself to be a little selfish. Focus on me for a while. Because there will come a day when I won't be alone anymore. I may even have a couple of little ones who are demanding all of my time. One day, I will do nothing but cater to other people.

So, while I have this time, I am going to make the most of it.

I'm starting with a manicure this evening.

Wedding Dresses, Girls Night, Cowboys and A Coffee Date

It's been a busy weekend.

Saturday, I met up with Nichole to do some wedding dress trying on. She's getting married in November. Aren't I a good friend? I may have accidently found a few that I would choose for my wedding. So I'm ready. Just need the proposal.

After that, we grabbed some lunch, then I headed to Target. And the stars were against me. It was absolute hell. Between the traffic, the construction and the asinine amount of people, I was ready to kill someone after 30 minutes. I came home with shampoo, Windex wipes and the movie "Once", because I am absolutely addicted to it.

I napped for an hour, then it was time to get ready for the monthly girls' night dinner, this time in my neck of the woods. Rosita's (mexican joint) at Greenlake. Since I hadn't had a margarita in about eight months, I treated myself to three of 'em. Good times.

After dinner, we hopped across the street to the Little Red Hen. Boy howdy, I gotta start hangin' out there more often. I danced my tush off. Then the gals decided the keyboard player wanted me, so they gave him my number. Turned out he was married. Fantastic.

Tangent:
Have I told you about my love of cowboys? Case in point:

Those last two are from Tootsie's Lounge in Nashville. Steve and I were having a wild night. Met up with a couple from Iowa and drank a lot of jack and cokes. And I was grabbing every cowboy who walked by. Steve wasn't helping matters by taking photos. The next morning I woke up with a hole in my favorite blue jeans and neither one us had any idea how it happened. Crazy. Thank goodness I'm out of the phase, right? You'll be happy to know that I did not kiss, nor hug, any cowboys last night. Although I did make eyes at a few.

This morning, I had a coffee date with a Match guy. He's very funny and nice so it was pretty painless. No biggie. Really.

After coffee, I toodled around Ballard for a bit, came home, watched a movie, fell asleep for three hours and have done absolutely nothing productive at all. Blah. Apparently I am not the party animal I used to be. Again, probably a good thing.

"This House Is Clean"

Did you ever see the movie "Poltergeist"? The medium in the movie has a line that repeat every time I finish cleaning.

"This house is clean."

She's talking about the poltergeist in the house and how it's been exercised. The ghosts are gone. The house is clean.

But I hear her voice in my head whenever I put away the vacuum cleaner.

Guess what I did today?

Have You Ever....

Have you ever actually run out of dental floss? Like (yes, I know I used like, gimme a break) you're pulling it out, gettin' ready for the nightly floss and you pull out maybe two inches and that's all you have?

How does that happen?

I think it's fate that I have a dentist appointment tomorrow. I'll get more floss.

Whew. Crisis averted.

And have you ever flossed after having three glasses of wine and you can't get the floss wrapped around your finger just right so you're kinda befuddled about how to actually get your fingers in there to get the floss behind those very back teeth? And you end up poking yourself in the roof of your mouth with your fingernails, the fingernails that you should cut so you can actually play guitar instead of just talking about it to men who strike up conversations with you and you try to impress them so you tell them you're a singer songwriter, when actually, you've written just five songs over seven years and that's just pathetic really, especially when you haven't played out in over a year.........

uh.

I ran out of dental floss and flossing is tricky after you've been drinking.

I'm going to bed.
Goodnight.

Party Girl

Yes, it's a party here in Raechelle-land this evening.

I ordered a pizza, I opened a bottle of wine, there a new Office and Lost on, and I took tomorrow off. So it's like my Friday! I may even paint my nails. Before I have too many glasses of wine. Because that would just be messy.

Ah, good times.
Peace out.

The Comfort of Silence

It's a wonderful, yet jarring, thing to actually feel yourself change. Not change, like grow a new arm, or sprout a third eye, but change like suddenly be okay with something you didn't used to be okay with.

Back in the day, I couldn't be alone in a house without the TV on. The silence would creep me out. When I cleaned houses, the first thing I would do when I got there was turn on the TV or the radio.

And I realize now that I needed that noise to distract me from myself. And, apparently, my own unhappiness.

I know it was unhappiness because I can be alone with myself, in the silence, now. Silence doesn't scare me. Having thoughts or conversations in my head doesn't scare me. A lot of the thoughts I used to have were issues I was having with Steve. There was always something going in my head that wouldn't let up. Those thoughts and imaginary conversations stressed me out and made me angry, so it was just easier to drown them out.

I don't have anything going on now that needs drowning out. Oh, I did. I had the TV on constantly July through December. And it was loud. But those troubles have, for the most part, drifted away, and what's left is just.....quiet. I have a few conversations going on in my head with a couple of people that I need to get some closure with, but those aren't too bad. I can handle them.

I had this little epiphany this evening when I came home to a sun filled apartment and didn't turn on the TV. And then thought, huh, I've been doing that a lot lately. Especially with the days getting longer and it not being so dark when I get home. I changed clothes, threw some laundry in, did the dishes and just piddled around. I thought about listening to the Once soundtrack I just downloaded last night (because I rented the movie and it's just freakin' fantastic. I'm going to watch it again tonight with the commentary on) but then I though, no. No need. I just wanted to enjoy the silence.

And there I go again. Growing.
Sheesh.

I Love Craigslist II

Queen bed for sale.
(Trash not included)

I Love Ballard

But you knew that already, didn't you?

My friend, the Mysterious Traveler, and I walk our neighborhood frequently, and last week we saw evidence that not all of Ballard is going yuppy. Ms. Traveler blogs about it here.

Yes, there are definitely still some quirky parts.

Random Thoughts

Our awesome kicker, Josh Brown, has gone to St. Louis. I'm a bit distraught. Really. He saved our ass so many times, I don't know who could possibly replace him. We'll find out in just a few months.

**********

And Bret Favre is retiring. Crap. Although, he's been teasing us for year.

**********

There is one specific guy on Match who looks at my profile about every other day. But has he contacted me in any way?

No.

This just reinforces my already sour opinion that men are pansies.

There is also a very attractive, interesting man who has looked at my profile and I would love to email him, but as we all know, if I do that, it will just ensure I never hear back from him.

Yep, cancelling my membership next week.

**********

This headline on Komo4 cracks me up:

"Woman Loses 180lbs Through Diet And Exercise"

Oh, dear god stop the presses!! Really?!

Why is this news?
It's a nice story, yes, but is it news?

**********

Sudden whack of singleness:

Who will get me my hollow chocolate easter bunny this year?

**********

What else can I tell you?
I get to wear blue jeans to work tomorrow. That's big news.

Um...having a girls dinner on Saturday, our once a month thing. Might go out afterwards.

Yep. That's about. Things are quiet (for a change) here in Raechelle-land.

Why Hasn't Martha Stewart Hired Me Yet?

It's amazing what new cushions for the back of the couch can do.

(Please ignore the dirty spot on the front.)




Maybe two more pillows for the sides? Fantastic!

Attention Texans!

And those of you in Ohio, Vermont and Rhode Island (people forget about you Vermontans and Rhode Islanders, don't they? Not me. I still love you!)

Will you be voting today? Big day for you! Big day for the candidates! Make it or break it, baby! We're counting on you! Get out there and cast your vote. Decide, one way or the other. But decide.

Can't bitch about it if you don't participate, right?

(I bet some people are so proud of me.....)

Skip This Post, Mom. Trust Me.

I'm a young, hip woman who's pretty open minded about all things related to sex. Some would say that's a major understatement.

So, sex toys are not a taboo topic for me at all.

I remember years ago, my mom boxed up all my books that I had left behind when I moved here and shipped them to me. Because she's as neurotic as I am, she listed out each of the books in an email so I could let her know if there were any I didn't want, and therefore, she didn't need to ship.

An excerpt of the list looked something like this:

Maya Angelou, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
John Sandford, Eyes of Prey
Good Vibrations Guide To Sex - WHAT THE HELL IS THIS???
Good Vibrations Catalog, 1998 - WHY DO YOU NEED THIS???
Joy of Sex - WHERE DID YOU GET THIS???
Poppy Z Brite, Vampire Erotica - THIS IS DISGUSTING!!!
Stephen King, It - that's more like it

My poor mother.

Anyway, I'm not going to go any deeper into this particular topic (so you're safe), but I wanted to share a story with those of you who are genuinely interested.

There has always been the big question of how best to dispose of used toys. Let's face it - they wear out. You get bored with them. A bigger, better product has come along and you just don't have room in your toy box anymore. Throwing them away is wasteful, but you sure don't want to re-gift them. There are specific latex recycling plants, but they're normally not very convenient, if there's one near you at all. So Dan Savage, at Savage Love, has a suggestion.

If you're interested, and have often been in this position as well, read this.

Now, as my disclaimer, I don't necessarily agree or disagree with Dan. But, if you like being a pain in the ass and making a point, then it's a pretty good idea.

Flashback

First, is it just me or does this seem dirty?
"When a woman needs a cookie...."

Log o' dough.



Okay, now the flashback.

Every now and then, I channel my mother. And it scares the shit out of me. Sometimes it's a look I give my coworkers. Sometimes it's the way I sit with my leg cocked up underneath me. Sometimes it's the way I talk to myself when I'm annoyed.

And this evening, it was when I took my ring off.

I made the work birthday cake, and because I'm in manic mode and can't sit still regardless of how tired my body is right now, I decided to whip up some chocolate chip cookies. Cause I have this log o' dough.

I cut the paper and then grabbed a hunk of dough. I started to roll it in my hands and then remembered I have my ring on. My one ring that I wear. I used to wear it on my left ring finger (wishful thinking probably) but after the break up, I try to remember to put it on my right ring finger. But sometimes I forget.

Anywho, I had my ring on and this dough all over my hands, so I slipped it off and set it on the counter. And my eyes welled up with tears. Damn hormones. I love my uterus!

My mom used to make Chef Boyardee pizzas for dinner, while I would sit on the counter, probably talking her ear off. The pizza kit was genius really. The box contained a can of sauce, a packet of cheese and the stuff to make the dough. I don't remember what you had to do to make the dough (maybe pour the power in water and mix?) but mom would have it in a bowl and use her hands to knead it. And she'd always take off her wedding ring and put it on the counter while she did it. I remember putting it on and asking her the same questions every time. "Does dad have one?" Yes, but he doesn't wear it. He's a mechanic and that's the easiest way to loose a finger. "Where'd you get them?" I don't remember. You're sitting on the instructions. "Will I have one one day?" Not if you keep being a little brat. Now get off the counter.

[laugh]

I doubt she ever said that, but it just sounds like her.

I would also eat the pepperoni that she was trying to put on the pizza.
I guess I was a bit of a brat.

Operation Sexy Undies (and a new chair)

Jamie and I spent all day yesterday downtown (downtown Seattle, not downtown Ballard) on a lingerie mission. She's very distraught that I have no lingerie. I have underwear and sweats. This will never do for a single gal.

First, we took the SLUT downtown. I don't care if they call it a street car, it will always be the SLUT to me. Apparently, paying is by the honor system. No one ever checked up on us.

It was odd. You get on and as the trolley is moving you try to figure out the little pay kiosk and keep your balance at the same time. And doing it in high heels just adds to the adventure. Jamie and I got all fabuloused up. Cause we were DownTown.

Our first store was Nordstrom's. If you haven't cruised a lingerie department recently, let me get you up to speed. Ruffled panties are all the rage. That's Jamie petting them, just for you. She's a team player.

I picked up a couple of Hanky Pankies because I am told they are SO COMFORTABLE. I'm skeptical. But I'm willing to branch out of my comfort zone for the sake of sexy. Wish me luck.

After an hour and a half of looking at underthings, we moved on to bath products. There is now a Lush at Westlake Center. I've mentioned them in a previous post. They have wonderful bath products. I loaded up on the Karma bubble bath. And Jamie loved this sign:

After Lush, we hit some random little dress shops then I hit a code red and needed food STAT. But on our trek for food, we saw this:

One little lone tree in the middle of downtown. My intial thought was, "I bet he's lonely and just wants to die. I bet he tries to commit suicide whenever he can. Why oh why won't those freakin' humans just let me die?!"

Jamie, however, optimist that she is, thought, "I bet he's standing his ground. They took his friends, his family, but he will not die. He will stand tall! He will remind the city that there were trees here at one time!"

Silly woman.

Anyway, we ended up at Il Fornaio. And just in the knick of time, too. It had started raining right as we were walking up to the restaurant, and by the time we ordered, we saw this:

Yes, that's hail. The skies opened up and whammo! Hail. Craziness.

Once we finished our lovely lunch (and complimentary dessert because the ravioli was cold and we let them know about it) it was on to Victoria's Secret. Which is pushing the envelope for me. I'm working on doing sexy, but these freakin' things barely covered anything. I wear undies for a reason. I need them to cover me. Victoria's Secret stuff don't cover nothin'. Jamie, however, is a shareholder I believe.

At this point, our feet hurt, we were tired and martinis were becoming a more prominent topic of conversation. We hit a few more stores, bought a few more expensive lacey things, then hopped back on the SLUT. But first, a quick drink to finish off the day properly.

The Shopaholics:

I got up this morning and could barely walk to the bathroom. My feet were not at all happy with me. But I had to perservere! Because today was shopping for the boudoir day! No foo-fooing it up downtown. Nope. Jeans, tennis shoes and Alderwood mall.

Unfortunately, Operation Boudoir was a bust. Target was out of the curtains and the lamps I wanted. But that's okay - that just meant I could afford to buy a slipcover!

I bought a big ass chair from craigslist last week. Ten bucks! And oh so ugly.

But oh, the power of a slipcover!

My living room is finally starting to look homey.

And whew, I am pooped. A weekend of non-stop shopping will just take it out of you. I still need to make the February birthday cake for work (yes, I know it's March. I've slacked a little...). If I can bare to stand anymore tonight. I'm almost looking forward to work tomorrow. I can sit for most of the day.