Perspective Check

I feel a pity party coming on, so it's time for a perspective check.

What I'm grateful for

by Desiree Wynn, age 33

I'm grateful that I have my health. I've never broken a bone, the stiches I've had have been minor and I have no chronic diseases or pain. Other than I love my sleep, it's easy for me to get out of bed in the morning.

I'm grateful for my friends. I may not have many but the ones I have are kind, honest, and true. I treasure and cherish each one of them, and that includes my blog friends!

I'm smart. I'm articulate and I know how to express myself. I have been in the company of people who don't have the ability to express their thoughts and feelings and I can almost feel their frustration. Give me a couple seconds to form my thoughts and I'll tell you exactly what I'm thinking - no guessing games here.

I'm pretty - I'm not saying this in a narcisstic way. I have been blessed and I'm thankful for that.

I'm thankful that I have a job. I may complain that it's not my life's work or that I never envisioned myself doing this, but I am working, I receive a paycheck and I am very grateful for that.

I'm thankful for my boyfriend, I mean, my fiance. I have very vivid memories of past boyfriends who sorely mistreated me and were downright bad guys. Although he tries my patience (and I am changing those speakers Andrew), I have had it much worse and I'm thankful that I have him. I'm thankful that I have him. I'm thankful that I have him.

I'm thankful that I have my parents. For all the stress and pain that I've gone through with my dad, and the impatience that I have with my mother, I'm thankful they're both still with me. I'm not ready to deal with losing them yet and I'm thankful that I don't have to.

I'm thankful for my family. My cousin and I have grown incredibly close over the years and I admire her so much and I'm so proud to say we're family. My brother has matured to be such an interesting person - I love talking with him as his thoughts on things are so fascinating. Sometimes I can't believe he's my baby brother - I have to remind myself that he's a grown man now.

I'm grateful for the roof over my head, the food in my belly and the fact that I get to wake up to see another day.

It could always be worse. That doesn't invalidate that things suck right now, but it's not as bad as it could be. And if I lost any of the above things, I would realize lightning fast how good I had it before.

*bowing my head* Thank you for my blessings.

Lady Bits

For a while now, Maya has been rather expressive. Scratch that -- she's been humping everything that will stand still and some things that won't (our legs). I was baffled - I thought only boy dogs did that but I guess girls have urges too. They said you have to wait until they're at least five months old to have them fixed so Drew and I have been mostly entertained, sometimes annoyed at her incessant humping.

It comes out of nowhere - she'll be sitting quietly on her sofa and out of nowhere, she'll run over to her kennel, get on her hind legs and go to town. It's freakin hilarious and last night was a riot. The loveseat in the sitting room has two cushions on the back and she's taken to, ahem, claiming them.

Now that she's old enough we decided that it was time we take her in to get fixed. We didn't talk too much about it and I made the appointment for this morning. But I think somehow she knew - last night she was humping the loveseat like she knew what was going to happen in the morning. I kind of felt bad for her - but I know it's what's best for her mindset. I wouldn't want to be thinking about sex all day and not be able to do anything about it.

So this morning, I got up earlier than usual to take her to the vet. Our power went out because of the storms here which added a little bit of drama to the situation. It was as though the house went dark in honor of what was about to happen. Poor thing.

She was remarkably well-behaved on the car ride over and traffic wasn't that bad, which meant we got there before the vet opened. So we just hung out in the car and I snapped a couple of pictures of her pre-lady-bits-removal.

I wonder if she knows.

She does really well on car rides - one more thing I'm thankful for - and it made me think of her first car ride when Drew brought her home from the breeder.She was so little back then - you know, three months ago. When I brought her in to the vet's office I signed some papers and they took her back. I felt a little anxiety for her and I thought I'd be able to stay until she was put under but apparently they don't do it like that. It was very no-nonsense, thank you very much, she'll be ready after 3:30. Ummm, okay then. I walked out rather disoriented - it happened kind of fast and I felt that there should have been more ceremony to it. After all, she's losing her lady bits!

So I took out my anxiety on Drew when I left. I told him that he needed to be there at 3:30 sharp, I don't want her awake and waiting on you, you should probably be there before she wakes up so you're the first thing she sees, she needs baby aspirin for the pain - make sure you get some before you get there, bring her blankets that have her scent on them so she's not scared, you'll probably need to carry her out so she doesn't stress her stiches - make sure you carry her out, you call me just as soon as you leave but don't leave if it looks like they've done anything suspect or her stiches don't look good or anything, and she hasn't eaten since last night - make sure to ask if she can eat and if so, what can she eat and how much and when - are you writing this down? do you need to write this down?

I could practically hear him rolling his eyes at me.

What can I say? I'm nervous for her - I don't have feelings for the dog per se, but I have an unparalleled sense of responsibility for her. She depends on us, on me, and my feelings about how she came to live with us cannot compromise that. It's not her fault that I didn't want her -- all she knows is that this is where she lives and we are her caregivers, and I'm going to do a good job at that no matter what I'm feeling about the fact that she is teething and biting everything in sight, including my fingers and toes. I just about bit Drew's head off when he asked if I wanted to join them for a happy hour tomorrow night.

(in my snotty can-you-be-that-dense voice) 'Really? The day after the dog has surgery and we're supposed to leave her for longer than we already do? Really? Have a drink for me, I'll be going straight home to take care of the dog.' These mothering instincts are no joke, they do not discriminate. (no matter how much I wish they did)

I hope that getting fixed will calm her down a little bit, although I have visions of Samantha's dog in Sex and the City and how despite being fixed, her dog relentlessly humped everything in sight. I don't know which I'd rather have - her chewing up my decorative pillows or her humping them.

Talk about the lesser of two evils.

The storm before the calm

I look back to my last post with fondness and melancholy, for it was in that post I still bore the blush of a newly engaged, slightly overwhelmed Desiree.

Back to reality.

It's interesting that it took less than a week to come crashing back to Earth, but I'm guess I'm thankful that I'm mature enough not to clap my hands over my ears and go 'lalalalala'. Instead, I mourn what could have been and calmly resolve to deal with what is.

Waaaay back, Drew and I were first talking and fighting about whether or not to stay in an apartment or get a house. He was ready for a house, I was not. I had many reasons I didn't want to get a house and one of the big ones was that if we got a house we wouldn't be able to afford a wedding and I really wanted to be married before we had a house. I know it's just one day, I know the marriage matters more, but these words are usually coming out of the mouth of a person who got to have a wedding.

I fought tooth and nail but I lost that battle, as we now live in a house. I knew I had two choices: be bitter and make my life miserable by constantly reminding Drew that this isn't what I wanted, or make the best of it. I have chosen the latter and I now love our house and it is my home. We had the same fight over the dog. I lost that fight too, although I'm not in love with the dog just yet and I wouldn't hold your breath on that one.

The house is wonderful, and as anyone who is a homeowner knows, it is a massive money drain. We didn't even have to remodel anything but we still have poured every available penny (and some unavailable pennies) into this house. This means there are zero dollars left for a wedding. Zero. Now, even though I have already made my choice to love this house and make the best of this situation, I knew it would happen like this. It's simple math and it has nothing to do with attitude. If you have a hundred dollars and you buy something that costs a hundred dollars you have zero left. Zero.

I knew this, I knew better than to get my hopes up. The rational part of me knew that more likely than not, I would have to revise my girlhood dreams of how it would be when I got married. Then I got a glimmer of hope. My mother told me that she was due to come into some money and when she did, she would give me a portion of it for my wedding. I slowly allowed myself to think that we might be able to do something after all. I knew better, I know better.

This is the story of my life. My parents want the best for me but they cannot always provide it. I know they sacrificed to provide me with some things financially but they are classic over-promisers, under-deliverers. My father does it so he can look good to other people, to give people the illusion that he's doing it (whatever it is) better than the next guy. My mother does it from a purer heart - I know she wants to come through because she loves me but it's just much easier to be honest and simply say you can't.

However, I do not blame. Again, I do not blame. I am responsible for myself, my feelings, and above all my reactions. I'm the one who allowed myself to think that this money would materialize. And who knows, it still might. It's just becoming more and more apparent that it probably won't anytime soon, which eliminates the possibility of planning anything. Caterers (and every other wedding-related person) first want a date, then they want a deposit - neither of which I have.

I'm the one who allowed myself to browse the bridal websites, daydream about a dress, look up caterers, make a page on The Knot, pick bridesmaids, daydream about their dresses, look at invitations, daydream about shoes, hair, and makeup. I did that - no one made me. I knew there was no money in my nor Drew's bank account for any of those things. I knew that none of that would be possible without my mother's money (I hate even saying that).

I remember when I was dating this guy my dad liked, he called me and told me that if things worked out with us, he'd be willing to give $20,000 toward a wedding or down payment on a house. I nearly choked on my laughter - where the hell would he get $20,000? Did he think I didn't know him and know that he does not, nor has he ever had that kind of money? But it sounds good coming out of his mouth and I know my dad wants to be that guy, for other people if not for us.

My brother once told me about the right, fast, cheap triangle. That when you consider a task, you will probably only get two out of three in a best case scenario. In my case, of course we could have a wedding. We could do something fast and cheap but it won't be "right". I would have to compromise on more than what I'm willing to. We could just go to Costco and get some paper plates and plastic cups and borrow some metal chairs from the church up the street and do it that way. Or we could do it right and cheap. God knows, there are a kabillion blogs and websites devoted to DIY weddings and how to do stuff on the cheap. But that doesn't usually happen fast. There's some planning and researching involved. It takes time to collect mason jars for centerpieces! Or we could do it right and fast but we all know that last minute stuff is rarely cheap.

The objective is to get married this year. That is the only thing that's important and yes I agree, the marriage is far more important than the wedding and I refuse to go Bridezilla on Drew or be one of those couples whose relationship disintegrates because of the wedding.

But damn it all, I wanted a dress. I wanted flowers. I wanted to celebrate with my friends and family. I wanted us to dance and for our friends and family to witness our family being created. For all the 50% divorce statistics and wedding horror stories, I wanted those moments. The wedding doesn't make the marriage, I know that. I do. But I had really wanted it to be a defining moment, a marking in time signifying that before you were single, after you're married. I didn't want my wedding day to be just another day, where we just add 'go to the justice of the peace' in between 'walk the dog' and 'pick up groceries' on the errand list. But, frankly that's all we've got money for and I'm allowed to say that sucks.

I'm allowed my moment of silence for what could have been. I'm allowed to wish that things were different. I'm allowed to want my dad to walk me down the aisle, instead of saying that he doesn't even care that his daughter is engaged. I'm allowed to want my little cousins to get dressed up and throw flower petals and for everyone to ooh and aahh because there's nothing cuter than dressed up little girls. I'm allowed to romanticize this, because I know that the planning and everything causes massive amounts of stress. I'm allowed to think that my wedding would have been different, that we would have handled snafus with laughter and grace.

I love this man.

This was his birthday - I made him wear all the ribbons from his presents.

Bottom line, I will marry him whenever, wherever, however, wearing whatever, it doesn't matter. Money or no money, family and friends or not, I'll do it because he's what matters. I just needed to pay some honor to my dreams before I let them go and embrace reality.

Assemble the troops!

Most brides get a year or more to plan a wedding - me, I've got about three months. Originally, we had planned to do it next year on October 10, 2010. 10-10-10 - so cute, I know. But with the whole fertility thing now looming over my head, I couldn't be okay with waiting 14 months to begin trying to get pregnant. Just in case we were lucky, I also didn't want to stand at the altar seven months pregnant or having just given birth. Furthermore, I'd really like to avoid having a child before I get married. So, the solution was to move things up - waaay up.

Initially I tossed around the idea of the two of us going to Vegas but I know I'd be upset that my friends and family wouldn't be there. We've decided to have the ceremony and the reception at our house, figuring that any money that we'd spend on a hotel ballroom or similar venue would be better spent on landscaping the backyard. Neither of us have a church home so in that sense it would be just a building to us and we both enjoy and appreciate the outdoors. It makes sense to have it in our home, an intimate setting for our closest family and friends. Additionally, I (foolishly) thought that by having it in the house I would escape a lot of the pre-wedding stress. ha. ha. ha. (that's my sarcastic laugh)

A day after I'm official I called my girlfriend to tell her. As soon as she congratulates me, she starts peppering me with questions about when, where, have we registered, what kind of cake are we having, what kind of flowers, and a lot of other stuff that got me breathing fast.

However, I'm kind of thankful that it's happening quickly because that gives less time for indecision. I won't be able to waffle between six thousand invitation designs or choose something only to have something better come out six months later. What I choose will be it and we're going with it.

It's exhilirating and overwhelming and I'm excited! We've got a theme picked out, a friend has a catering company and I've already got dress appointments for the upcoming weekends. We're going to pull this off and if we end up at the justice of the peace in our t-shirts and jeans it won't be for lack of trying.

I hope we don't though.

Summer Rain

This was the best weekend ever for lots of reasons: I got to meet Kristina, Erin and Shanen, I got an awesome chair on our thrift store outing, I got a great deal on fabric to recover the chairs, Maya behaved really well, and we spent quality time with friends. But it all pales, PALES I TELL YOU, in comparison to what I'm about to share.

So, about a month ago we actually purchased my engagement and wedding rings. The story about that day is a good one too - but for another time. I'd only put them on for a couple of hours the day he brought them home after they'd been sized but besides that, he'd had them in the bedside stand. I didn't know this until Friday night, when he told me where they were after he'd sampled a few too many beers when he was out of town! Well, now that I knew where they were it was REALLY hard to keep from putting them on and not taking them off!

Well, last night Steve and Michael came over for dinner. I've talked about Steve, Drew's best friend before, and Michael is a good friend of Steve's, therefore he's a friend to Drew and me. Both of them are really good people and I'm very thankful we got to spend time with them. Neither of them knew about my rings and when Drew suggested I show them, I happily complied. They were both duly impressed and started ribbing Drew about when he was going to make it official. I secretly agreed but I never said anything because I knew the drama with my dad affected him.

Anyway, dinner proceeded wonderfully and I made a big deal about the four of us sitting at all the tables in the house! We talked and laughed and they even helped us clean up after dinner - that's the perfect dinner guest in my book!

When they left, we sat on the front steps just taking in the weather. Michael talked a lot about us getting married and I guess it got Drew's wheels turning. He turned to me and asked me what I was thinking. I told him that I was thinking about the fact that we're sitting on the front steps of our house and how that's pretty cool. The wind was blowing, it was nice and cool outside and it was just starting to rain a little bit -- nothing to make you go inside, just enough that you knew it was raining.

Then he started talking about how he likes the smell of rain and I just said, 'yeah, me too'. I started out sitting on one of his legs, not entirely on his lap. When that got uncomfortable I just slid off his leg so we were still sitting close with my legs swinging between his (important later). I had my left arm around his shoulders and my right arm hugging his waist and my face mushed in his neck. I felt like he was probably going to propose but I wasn't sure how and the funny thing is, I didn't want him to get on one knee -- I found myself hoping that he wouldn't. Isn't that strange? I always thought that that was the way I wanted it, but there in that moment I wanted us to stay just as we were, all tangled up on the front steps.

Now remember, I was wearing both of my rings and I had told him that I wanted to wear the band first and get the solitaire later. He said, 'Hey let me see your hand', and I flipped up my left hand off his shoulder. 'No, let me see it'. So I held it up there a moment longer and he slid off the solitaire. He sat there twirling it around the tip of his index finger with the other hand open to catch the rain.

Looking up at the sky he said, 'You know, no matter what happens with your dad, we're going to be ok. We're going to weather this storm and all the ones that come after it'. I said 'I know baby', all muffled into his neck.

Him: I love you.

Me: I love you too. (Some smooches)

Him: Hey (nudging my face out of his neck and then waiting till I'm looking at him) Will you marry me?

Me: Are you proposing to me?

Him: Yes.

Me: (beginnings of a cheese-tastic grin) Okay. :-)

Him: Okay?

Me: Yes! Yes I will!

Honestly it was perfect. There wasn't a lot of nonsense - just us and the rain. After I dried my tears, I looked up at the sky and said 'I don't know if this is foreshadowing or something. There's a storm coming!' And then he said,

'Well, I like to think of it as the rain is coming to wash everything away and make it new and clean for us. It's washing away the past, your relationships and mine and leaving things nice and clean for our future.' How sweet right! I told him I liked that perspective that much better.

So we sat there a little while longer just listening to the wind in the trees and watching the raindrops get heavier. When it was time to go inside we stood up and were just hugging each other in front of the door when we looked down at where we were just sitting. Because I was kind of draped over him my legs and feet didn't make an imprint, just my backside. We had made a heart on the steps because of how we were sitting and it was pretty much the coolest thing ever. We paused before going in and looked at Maya sprawled out on the sofa, knocked out. Drew said she looked pretty cute and I had to agree - in that moment I would have agreed to just about anything. It's a good thing he didn't ask to get another dog! Then we went inside and jumped on the bed and started calling people.

His parents were super happy and welcomed me to the family as was my cousin and of course all our friends. With each person I told, it became more and more real. I'm going to be a Mrs.! I'm engaged! I'm a fiancee! I have a fiance! I'm going to be a wife! I'm going to have a husband! How cool is that!!!

We decided against telling my father straight away because of that drama (whole nother story) but my mom knows and is super happy for us, as is my brother. Two out of three ain't bad I guess...

We'll figure out what to do with my father, but right now the only thing that matters is WE'RE GETTING MARRIED!!

But I'm healthy!

When I got my yearly a few weeks ago, my doctor told me about a blood test I could get to test my ovarian reserve. Drew and I have always wanted to have children and we're finally to the place that we're ready to pull the trigger so I wanted to make sure everything was in its place, and nothing was where it wasn't supposed to be. The test measures the FSH hormone, which is the hormone that is produced in ovulation. Basically, when you have a lot of eggs, there isn't much FSH and when you don't have a lot the hormone is higher. A high number is no bueno.

That was the bloodwork that I got done last week. I went to the trusty internet to get the scoop on ovarian testing and the number I was looking for is anything below 10. Above ten means it's time to get on the proverbial stick and get serious about getting pregnant.

The week that I was waiting was so difficult. I wrestled with even having the test done in the first place - if my number was high, could I have that information and not be stressed out? I already knew that fertility starts declining at 27 and that I'm no spring chicken. At this stage in the game, an 'oops' would probably not be in the cards. However, I'm healthy, I don't smoke, I take care of myself and my age, although an important factor, wouldn't completely prohibit me.

I didn't want to delude myself - I knew I wouldn't be a four or five -- I thought probably a seven or an eight at the most. And then my doctor called yesterday afternoon.

I'm a 12.

12 is entering the infertility zone. When she told me that, my first response was, 'But I'm healthy!' I couldn't believe it - she wants me to make an appointment for a consultation with a fertility specialist. I can't believe it - I never thought that I would ever have to consider something like this. I can't believe this!!!

When I got off the phone with her, I went to my friend's cube and burst into tears. She hugged and consoled me and then I pulled it together enough to call Drew, when I burst into tears all over again. Drew was great though - he kept it together, telling me that it was going to be okay, that we'd get through it and we were going to be fine.

I was so angry - all these years trying not to get pregnant, being careful, being 'scared' that I might be, and now I'm looking at possible difficulty when I actually want to get pregnant. Awesome. Thankfully, when I got home that night I had a marathon conversation with my dad (that didn't end well) that took my mind off of things. Falling asleep was easy because I was so mentally drained.

This morning, I have a new perspective and I'm thankful it's a new day. This information is not the end of the world - it's a whole new thing that I never thought would be a part of my reality but it is. Although I can't lie - there was a mother and son on the bus this morning and I looked at them, wondering if that was still within my reach and if so, how much would it cost, in both time and money. Thankfully, I don't have anger or resentment yet and I'm going to do my best not to let those feelings get a hold of me. I just looked at them with curiousity whereas before I took that for granted. I just knew I would have kids, that it would be me sitting with my son one day. I'm not as sure as I used to be.

This information simply means that we no longer have to be careful. I don't want to do the whole taking my temperature and charting stuff just yet - I'm not ready for that. And God KNOWS I don't want any shots! I'm sending up a separate, specific prayer for that one! This has just changed our personal timeline, it has presented us with a new challenge to deal with and we have already chosen to use it to make our relationship stronger.

But the inner me just wants to throw a tantrum. I want to kick and yell that it's not fair, I'm healthy, I'm thin, I don't smoke, I take care of my body, I do YOGA! C'mon! Infertility? Me? Really? Are you sure this isn't a mistake? Didn't you mean to give this to someone else? I'm just supposed to enjoy my husband and we just make a baby - nice and easy. I'm not supposed to need to see a specialist - and I sure as HELL am not supposed to get more blood drawn!!!

.............................

Okay, you know what? I'm not claiming this - I will not speak it into existence. We're going to start trying and it will strengthen our relationship. We will go on this journey together and we will find personal strength that we didn't think we had. If I am meant to get pregnant I will. I accept this.

But I don't want to.

I don't get it, so just stop

Since I'm all eco-concious and doing my part for Mother Earth by riding the bus (plus I hate driving), I find that I get to work earlier than usual. I get in around 8:15 riding the bus, whereas driving gets me screeching to my desk at 8:29 on a good day. The benefit of this is that I can get a leisurely start to my morning and it's good to start the day without feeling rushed. The downside is that I'm at my desk when a certain person arrives in the office.

This person is very nice and I don't have anything bad to say about them per se. This person is pleasant and professional and the limited interactions I have had with them have not been bad. Except...

She insists on wishing me 'Happy Monday' or 'Happy Friday' or 'Happy whatever-flippin-day-it-happens-to-be'. I don't get it. Y'all know me by now - I'm a happy, optimistic person but I'm not Chipper Cathy. I prefer to operate on a nice even keel, neither manic nor depressive. And while I'm on it, I really can't stand perfect strangers intruding on my thinking space by telling me to smile. Oooooh, I hate that! I'm walking down the street, caught up in my daydreams, and some random stranger pops into my eyeline, practically giving me a heart attack, telling me to smile. Stop that. Stop that right now.

Anyway, what the heck am I supposed to say to this person when she wishes me 'Happy Tuesday'? I would love to tell her that it's not a real holiday so she should probably just knock it off. It's like couples that want to celebrate their twelve week anniversary. It makes no sense and I want to kick them in the shins. So I usually just respond to her with a weak 'You too' and a half-hearted grin. What else am I supposed to say? 'Back atcha' with a wink and the finger-guns? That's how cheesy it feels when someone says it to me.

I just got to thinking about all this when someone called this morning and said, 'Well good morning and a lovely Tuesday to you!' I almost hung up the phone. All that is not necessary - a simple 'good morning' will do just fine. It's like when someone calls saying, 'Good morning, I'm Joe Smith with Joe Smith Construction. We're a construction company that specializes in construction for the Dallas metro area and we've been operating our family owned construction business for over 20 years. We'd be interested in offering you our construction services and would like to know who's the best person to speak with regarding your company's construction needs'.

Let me ask you. Do you think there's an easier way to do that? If you call a main number wouldn't you think you'd get the receptionist, who is probably a very nice person but who isn't too terribly interested in you or your company because she's consumed with googling ways to keep her dog from biting and jumping on everything because the dog is teething and hyperactive? Do you really think she cares that you've been in business for 20 years? You'd probably be just fine with saying 'Good morning, who would I speak with to become a vendor with your company?' Polite and to the point - all you need to get past the receptionist.

So I am hereby mandating that weekday well wishing cease and desist, effective immediately. Only real holidays are acceptable, i.e. Happy New Year, Happy Birthday, Merry Christmas, etc. The jury is out on Happy Groundhog Day, Happy Labor Day, Happy Flag Day and other marginal holidays. Use well wishing sparingly on those days.

When I was thinking about this, Office Space (one of the greatest movies ever) came to mind and I thought of the chipper dude and his 'case of the Mondays'. I leave you with this:

The longest re-do in the history of the universe

A thousand years ago, I went on a thrift store outing with Kristina and Erin and Shanen and got a couple of things. I really should go back and re-read my posts - I mean, the whole point of this blog was to put stuff down for posterity and to remind myself of things so I don't make the same mistake twice. Case in point: try not to do projects when you're pissed; you'll mess something up and make yourself even more pissed. Oh well, perhaps you'll read and learn from me - I don't seem to learn from myself.

The chair that I bought all those months ago has been sitting in the garage, just waiting for me to come re-do it. I hadn't taken the time because there always seemed to be something else that was more important. Mind you, nothing else was more important to me - it was usually something Drew wanted me to do and rather than listen to him whine I would do that instead of doing my chair. Then I'd get resentful and snippy and it usually led to a snide comment or two, prompting Drew to ask, 'what is with you?' To which I'd reply, 'NOTHING. Let's just finish this.' Whatever it was. Totally my deal and we're in counseling - seriously.

What can I say though - I have a hard head. Rather than just going out to the garage and finishing my chair and not caring whether or not Drew pitches a fit, I just didn't do it. Well, finally this past Sunday I was like, I don't care if the f*cking WORLD ends tomorrow, I'm doing my f*cking chair!!! Yeah, not the best circumstances under which to do a project. Because you'll mess something up. Oh well.

So, for reference, here are some pictures. This is the chair before, in all it's $5 glory. The blue seat cover was not cute at all and that was the first thing to go. There were also some grooves at the chair backs. I filled those in with wood filler, leading to my first mistake: When using wood filler, make sure to use enough to actually fill the grooves. If you can still see the grooves, paint will only highlight them.

I went to town sanding the chair soon after I bought it, and it sat there, sanded for almost a month.

I primed and painted one coat another day a couple of weeks later. THEN, Sunday night I was able to paint the second coat and put the sealer on it. This led to my next mistake: When painting something three dimensional, make sure that the paint on the other side doesn't dry before you can go around to the back of it (like a chair, for example) and fix any drips. Additionally, that spindle thingy on the back of the chair? It is a B*TCH to paint with a brush. This is a case where spray paint probably would have been a better choice.

But I was bound and determined to finish this damn chair if it was the last thing I ever did which led to some hastiness on my part. Next mistake: Let your last coat of paint THOROUGHLY dry (preferably overnight) before putting on the poly. I don't think I did and it was streaking and looking all crazy. I thought it was the temperature outside so I brought it in the house but that didn't make a difference. I probably should have let the paint dry longer.

Then I tackled the seat. The first picture is the blue cloth that was on the seat cover. The next one is the cloth that was underneath the blue. The one beneath that is the bare seat, which was just some padding over some plywood (I think). After I took out the eleventy billion staples (picture below), I was ready to go.

When we were at the thrift store, I picked up a package of batting to add some more padding to my seat cushion. It was only a couple of bucks and it was right there. I know they recommend foam for seat cushions but I figured it would save me a trip. Next mistake: Use foam for seat cushions; batting is a pain in the ass to keep even. Observe.

Batting is a fancy word for stuffing - meaning, it's great if you have something to stuff. Something like a pillow or a teddy bear, basically something that's closed on some end. Batting is not so great for chair cushions because flipping it over on the fabric of choice and then trying to pull said fabric over said stuffing will surely result in much, MUCH cursing. I'd pull the fabric over one side and all the stuffing would just ooze out the opposite side, causing me to stop and curse before shoving the stuffing back underneath so I could staple the fabric to the plywood, bringing me to my next mistake: Don't disregard the old fabric, thinking you can just eyeball the seat and cut some semblance of a shape. Use the old fabric as a template and cut accordingly. Especially if it's patterned fabric. Especially if it's patterned fabric.

I succeeded in stapling the fabric to the seat while keeping the stuffing localized as best as I could, only to find that when I flipped the seat over, the pattern of my fabric was fifty kinds of crooked! Between not using a template and haphazardly pulling the fabric and stapling, the pattern was very obviously not straight. But since Drew had interrupted me about twelve times during this whole process when I thought I made it pretty clear that I didn't want to stop until it was done, I'd be damned if I started all over again. So I left it and screwed the seat in with the fabric as is. Oh, and I forgot another mistake: When sanding something (like a chair) on a drop cloth make sure you shake out the dust really well, otherwise the wind will blow the little particles onto your chair and make it pebbly. Better yet, use different drop cloths for sanding and painting because if you don't, you'll have to sand away the gritty parts on the legs of the chair.

Now, I could have re-sanded and re-painted and re-covered the chair but I was so over it by the time I was actually able to finish the chair that I'm leaving it as a cautionary tale to myself when I undertake my next project. What, you didn't think I'd give up did you? I'm waaay too hard-headed for that! I want to get another chair and do it right this time! At the most, I may re-paint the legs where the gritty bits are but other than that, it's staying just as it is. So here's my chair in all it's imperfect glory. Don't look too closely.

We moved the loveseat away from the desk because Maya would jump on it and snatch papers off the desk. So now it's over by the windows and the desk is safely out of reach. It makes the sitting room look bigger and now all we need are some rugs. And curtains. And more stuff on the walls. And another chair for the sitting room. And I'd really like to organize the linen closet. And don't even get me started on the baby's room!

See, I have lots more opportunities to mess up - I'm excited.

Playing dress-up and Sonic Sundays

Friday night Drew and I got out of the house for our date night. We went to Fuse to see Steve as we hadn't seen him pretty much since we moved in the house. He's on a restaurant schedule which is opposite ours so getting time together has been somewhat difficult. Unfortunately, we didn't get to see him Friday either. We were going to have dinner with him at the restaurant but they were slammed when we arrived so we barely had a chance to say hello while he was running around like crazy. While we waited, Drew and I caught up with each other - he'd been out of town and I really missed him! I really like hanging out with him, he's a cool kid. We had a couple of appetizers while we waited for him but then left as we were concerned about leaving Maya in her crate for too long. We're such parents.

Saturday morning I taught a yoga class at our old apartment. The guy there runs a boot-camp fitness program and wanted to bring some yoga in to promote flexibility. The first time I taught I had a good turn out and this time it was a bit more intimate. Some people don't feel like it's a workout unless you're getting yelled at through a megaphone and you want to throw up when it's done. For those, yoga is a bit tougher of a sell, but it's all good. Me and my four students had a great time and we broke a great sweat thank you very much.

The thing is, I love teaching and I love hanging out with my students afterward, chatting or answering questions. I don't want to be that person who rushes off when class is over - it doesn't feel right to me. However, I had to be at my girlfriend Betsy's house at 12:30 and I didn't watch the clock! I didn't get home till 11:30 which left practically no time to shower, get dressed and drive 30 minutes to her house. Naturally, I was late and I left the house at 12:10 with sopping wet hair. I drove up there, twirling the whole way. I wonder what that ticket would look like: driving while twirling.....

Betsy is renewing her vows next year and we all met at her house to try on our dresses and drink. I mean, try on dresses. I can't help it if there was wine there! It would have been rude not to partake! I love that we have our dresses but she's still not sure about food, flowers, music or venue. Who cares - we had an awesome time playing dress-up, laughing, laying on Betsy's bed ooohing and aaaahing over her dress, complimenting each other, drinking wine, and of course, taking pictures!

I'm not a hundred percent sure what Meredith was doing but I'm sure glad I got a shot!

 When I showed her she just cracked up laughing!

Then we all piled into Betsy's car and went to look for shoes. I have done really well not shopping since we moved in to the house and I'm doing really well getting my debts paid off. However, I'm not made of stone -- if you put me in a shoe store I will buy something! They didn't have the shoes that we're all going to wear in my size, but I sure did find the cutest heels ever in the sale section! I didn't even feel that bad because they were $30 marked down from $70 - I can't pass up savings like that! At least that's what I told Drew - I even bought him some socks but he still shook his head at me. Oh well.

I finally left Betsy's after getting the 'are you ever coming home?' text from Drew. I guess he'd had enough of having the house to himself - Maya had spent the day at the groomer's. So I came home and we ordered pizza and watched tv, which was plenty fine with me as I'd had a good amount of wine at Betsy's and was getting sleepy.

Sunday we went to Lowe's (again - they should have a frequent shopper program or something) and got stuff to hang pictures. We're mounting the tv above the fireplace so we moved all the living room furniture around and the living room looks amazing! Before, we just wanted to get stuff in there and situated and we didn't give much thought to placement. But now, it really feels like a living room and the space feels so much bigger. And now that the tv cabinet is no longer needed, it's in the dining room and we're going to repurpose it. When I saw this post on Dusty's blog, I got ridiculously giddy. I told Drew we could either make it a baby cabinet and put it in the second bedroom or make it a bar and put it in the dining room. He chose bar. *scratching my head*

Since Lowe's is fast becoming a weekend tradition, we often find ourselves hitting the Sonic on the way out from Lowe's. We're wearing a path in the road - Lowe's, Sonic, grocery store. This Sunday was no different. Armed with our giant Limeades, we went to my favorite place - the Mexican grocery store!

It's such a fun place - they make homemade tortillas right in front of you.

The bakery is ridiculous - everything is so fresh and you really just want to stand there and stuff your face until they drag you away. And I'm not even that much of a sweet tooth!

The meat section takes up the entire rear of the store. There's a person with a headset herding all the people - you have to take a number to get helped, and it's all in Spanish. The first time Drew went to the store, he came back and told me that he was the only White guy in there and that I would love it. He wasn't mistaken - I love going there! The food, music, signs and smells all remind me of my childhood. One time the guy behind the counter motioned to help Drew - I guess he felt sorry for the White boy that didn't speak Spanish. I wasn't standing right next to him and he just went up to get the meat from the guy without getting a number and waiting to be called. The headset lady spotted him and said all loud,'We'd appreciate it if all of our esteemed clients would please get a number and wait for it to be called before approaching the counter.' Of course, it was all in Spanish and I immediately knew who she was talking about and I rushed over there to apologize, that we hadn't been here before and we didn't know the rules. She wasn't impressed -- now we always wait our turn, no matter what. They're serious in the meat department!

The dairy department is fun because they have a mooing cow over the loudspeakers and it just cracks me up. I was trying to get Drew to make a cow face (not sure what that is myself) but he just thought I was weird for taking pictures in the grocery store.
They have a lot of brands that you usually only find in Mexico or Mexican grocery stores. They sell a lot of the candies that I used to eat at my grandmother's house and every time I see them I smile. Bimbo, Fud, and Lala are pretty popular Mexican brands and the names alone make me smile.It's a total family affair and it's not uncommon to see huge families shopping together, kids piled into the shopping carts and even hanging off the sides. It's cute, but it makes it somewhat difficult to navigate the aisles. This is not a get-in and get-out kind of spot. It's an event, an adventure and there's even a mascot!
And to top it all off, you can even get shoes and hats at the grocery store. This one doesn't have a jewelry store though - that would be awesome.And no Mexican grocery store is complete without prayer candles. You can pick those up right next to the masa for making tamales and head one aisle over to get your pinata too! I love Sonic Sundays and the Mexican grocery store!

It's my 100th post!

I've had a hundred things to talk about y'all! This all started when I got an email from my brother telling me about Cori and Kelly's blogs. I went to check them out, like the voyeur (or is it voyeuse?) that I am. I sort of knew them; Cori and I went to the same high school although she was a year ahead of me and we didn't run around in the same circles. I knew who she was though; she was a cheerleader and had big curly 80s hair that was always perfectly done (and I'm not just saying that - it really was). Now I feel like I know her better than some of my real life friends and I'm sure she can say the same about me. Next time I'm in KC I really hope we can get together for coffee or something. Kelly's blog always makes me laugh with the antics her kids get into - it's crazy to think that a guy in my baby brother's class is married with two kids (and has an awesome wife to boot)!

Clicking around from their blogs led me to Joleene's. We also went to the same high school and she was a cheerleader too. My most vivid memory of Joleene was in her cheerleader uniform with her letterman jacket. She and the other cheerleaders always seemed to have the most fun and have the most friends around them at lunch. Can y'all tell I was fascinated by the cheerleaders? I came from a small Catholic school and had a really conservative upbringing and I read a TON. The whole concept of the cheerleader/quarterback phenomenon was so enticing to me and I always had secret dreams of being a cheerleader and dating a quarterback, or at least someone on the football team. Alas, in high school I was way too shy to be an outgoing bubbly cheerleader so I took my love of dance to the drill team which was great fun in its own right, but I still had my dreams.

Anyway, from there I just started clicking around. I've always said that you are not the first person on the planet to go through whatever it is you're dealing with, that someone has gone before you and has probably written a book about it. It is never more true than in the blog world! Whatever you're thinking, feeling, fearing or loving, someone's right along with you and they probably have a blog about it!

Are you biracial and have no clue to do what to do with your hair? Teri and Nikki can help you out with that. Did you just buy a house and don't know where to begin? Dude! There are a KABILLION design blogs out there but some of my favorites are John and Sherry and Kristina, who lives in Dallas and can make MAGIC with thrift store finds! And bonus, I've actually spoken with her - okay fine, we chatted on gmail but that counts! We've actually got plans to meet! It'll be my first in person blogger meeting and I'm so excited! Exclamation point!

Are you a black woman dating a white man and feel like you're the only one out there? Well guess what, you're not! Keya actually has a LIST of 'us'! One day Kesha left a comment on my blog and I went over to see hers and you will never find cuter kids in your life! I immediately enlarged one of the pictures of her sons and marched the laptop over to Drew. 'Baby this is what our kids are going to look like!' He was not nearly as excited, but that's ok. Future Mama (Jennifer) is an awesome read and we have our relationships in common too! Honestly, it's so comforting to know you're not alone - you're never alone. Just reach out and you'll find what you need.

Whatever you're dealing with, there's someone right there with you. Whatever accomplishment you've achieved, there's someone to congratulate you. Whenever you're angry, you've got an outlet. It's a cool thing and it's so much fun.

Even though I'm not big-time and I have nothing to sell and I have nothing to give away and this isn't my job I always can offer a (virtual) shoulder to lean on, a (virtual) open palm to high-five (everyone loves a high-five), a (virtual) closed fist to beat somebody up on your behalf (even though I've never been in a fight in my life), two arms for a (virtual) hug, and two good eyes to read your blog every day.

Thank y'all so much for following my little life and my hundred ramblings and I thank you for allowing me to follow yours. Great things are coming and I have lots more stories for you so stick around!

So I guess nursing's out....

One of the things we talked about when I was in therapy was my job. Don't me wrong, I'm VERY THANKFUL I HAVE A JOB (that was for the employment gods - don't want to appear ungrateful), it would just be great if I had an actual career path. No offense to career receptionists, but I always thought that my job would entail some movement, that I wouldn't be doing one thing forever. There isn't really a lot of upward mobility in the receptionist world and it's not, shall we say, intellectually stimulating. Once again, I'm VERY THANKFUL I HAVE A JOB (can't be too careful).

So, in therapy we were discussing, deconstructing if you will, what I'm looking for in a job. I really can't stand people who say 'do what you love and the money will follow'. In theory it's quite a pithy little saying, provoking thoughts of butterflies and skipping in meadows of money -- in life you have bills and they must be paid. We came to the conclusion that I value my time more than my money. We have several female executives at my company which is very empowering and uplifting, but they are always in the office. One of the girls in another department who's not even an executive told me she rarely gets home before seven every night and her son goes to bed at nine! While they all make much more money than I do, I don't care. My evenings and weekends are always mine, no exceptions ever and I like it like that and I want it to stay that way.

To make a long story short, combining my skills and interests and desire for career stability with a decent paycheck, I came up with teaching and nursing. Both are family-friendly, have decent pay, very stable, and have (somewhat) flexible schedules. Yeah, you may have to put in overtime, but in those fields it's more the exception than the rule. I started looking into both.
Nursing was first up. I looked into programs in the area, compared costs, and mapped out a tentative timeline to get the associates degree. Once I was a nurse, I'd go on to get the bachelor's and just work my way up -- it would be my career.


Minor problem -- I'm not the greatest with blood, other bodily fluids, or needles. No big, I'd get used to it. How bad can it be? Ummm, yeah.


I had to get some bloodwork done today. I went in first thing this morning - it was such a minor thing that I didn't even have to make an appointment. 'It's just one tube, come on in and we'll fit you in whenever.' I got there first thing this morning, for my one little tube of blood. I walked in all nonchalant, casually flipping the magazine, pleased when they called my name relatively quickly.
Small talk with the nurse, she complimented my outfit, I graciously thank her, and we walk back to the little blood-drawing room. More small talk and the blood-drawing guy comes in. He's a very nice guy and he begins preparing his stuff with ease -- he's definitely done this before and so far I'm doing okay.


Me: Just so you know, needles make me nervous, haha (that's my nervous laugh), so I'm just gonna go ahead and turn the other way, haha.
Blood dude: Oh don't worry, I got you. You'll be just fine and it'll be over with before you know it. *snap* (that's the rubber band he ties around my arm. Breathing gets a little shallower - mine, not his) Can you turn a little more towards me please?
Me: Sure, sorry, haha, I'm just a little nervous.
Blood dude: It's okay, you'll be fine.
AND THEN, with the speed of a jungle cat he rips open the thingy that looks like a butterfly with a LONG ASS NEEDLE on the end and pounces on me! Okay, maybe I exaggerate a little but he WAS fast. That's what did it. I stopped him.
Me: Waitwaitwait! (with the hand gesture and everything. Who am I kidding - I nearly jumped out of the chair) I'm so sorry, you just came at me kind of fast there.
Blood dude: It's okay, you're fine. We'll take all the time you need.


If he weren't so nice, I don't think I could have done it. However, it's because he was so nice that I couldn't keep it together. I started crying like a baby, do you hear me? I was all hyperventilating, tears streaming down my face, feeling like a complete retard because I couldn't handle a dumb needle. I kept saying 'I'm so sorry' over and over again because I felt so bad for not being able to just go in there, let him stick me, get the blood and get out. That was my plan, that's what I told myself as I was walking to the office -- yeah, not so much.


I ended up having a nurse come in and stroke my hand while he stuck me in the other arm while I cried and hyperventilated the whole time. One tube of blood, people. Geez. They even gave me a lollipop afterwards (which I ate with no shame - it was watermelon flavored). I was really embarrassed and when it was over I tried to just get up and leave, reassuring them that I was fine. When I stood up, my knees gave out just like in a movie. I went ahead and sat back down for a second until I could really stand up. My head was all spinning, my lips were tingling, my knees all wobbly. From one tube of blood.


I'm gonna go on ahead and look up those requirements for teaching.

Stress is a monster (or, it's a good problem to have)

So it's no secret that my relationship with Drew has had its challenges. We're normal. For all the times my heart just swells up with love for him, there are just as many times that I fantasize about punching him square in the throat (I tell him too - just ask how many times I've threatened bodily harm). Even though living in the house has brought it's share of new and different challenges, it is H-E-A-V-E-N compared to how it was a few months before. Permit me to illustrate...

I was working at the yoga studio - I loved life but had zero dollars. I wasn't this broke as a full time student working as a waitress. No money + bills = stress

I met a great guy that I really cared about but this new relationship sent my relationship with my dad into a tailspin. Fighting with dad = stress

I left the yoga studio and got a new job, from which I was fired a month later. Massive blow to self-esteem + unemployed + bills = stress

I moved in with Drew, but still wasn't working and hated giving up my independence. Merging living styles + still unemployed + still fighting with dad + we probably took that step too soon = stress

The relationship gets better but he wants a house but I don't because I always thought I'd be married before I moved into my first home and I'm very obviously not. GIVING UP MY LAST GIRLHOOD DREAM BECAUSE I F*CKED UP ALL THE OTHER ONES = STRESS

We move into the house but now he wants a dog and I sure as hell don't want that. I was just starting to getting okay about the house. Animal defiling my house = massive stress

It's a wonder we didn't kill each other. A couple of times we looked at each other and one or the other would actually say 'I can't do this', although the other person wouldn't actually say the second half of that sentence 'I don't want to be here anymore'. So we're still here. And boy I tell ya, I have a clearer picture than I ever wanted to have about the whole 'for better or worse' part. I may not have a ring on my finger but as far as I'm concerned that's a technicality because I'm living it.

Okay, so the physical side effects of all that stress were two-fold. One, I gained weight. I've always been slim and healthy but I began to notice that my clothes no longer fit properly. When I bought work clothes for my first office job in August, I had to go up a size. I just chalked it to growing older.

The more serious thing was that I started to get tension headaches. I didn't know what they were, I just knew that someone would throw a spear into my left eye and the white-hot burning point would exit from back left of my neck in the middle of the night. I would sit straight up out of bed trying not to scream from the pain. I thought I was having a stroke and I'm not prone to melodrama. But I'd never felt pain like that in my life and I was positive something was horribly wrong. I would pace and rock back and forth on the sofa when I wasn't clutching my head, willing the pain, begging the pain to stop. I went to the emergency room the night before we left for Paris because I had visions of my head exploding somewhere over the Atlantic because of the pressure.

$350 later, it's a tension headache brought on by (everyone together now) stress. Stress is a monster and it will kill. High blood pressure, obesity, all that stuff. Stress is real and it sucks out loud.

Well, I am happy to report that the stress in my life is greatly minimized. All my stuff is out of boxes, we have a place to live, I'm gainfully employed and paying off my debt, I'm learning to accept Drew for who he is, my therapist has helped me put my dad stuff away, and the dog is.......the dog is......*looking for nice words*......be positive Desiree.......

The dog is causing me less stress than before. That's all I got.

And the other totally awesome thing is -- I'm losing weight!! The pants that I got a year ago are completely huge on me now! I'm going to have to get them tailored - as it is I wear my shirts untucked because they're all bunched up because they're so big and my belt doesn't hide the folds. In the pants - not on my body! Yea!! I haven't had the chance to take them in because I have no money but for now, I'm reveling in how much space there is between my belly and my waistband. I have even resumed my regular (finances permitting - I'm not out of the woods yet) yoga practice which is doing wonders for my mental health.

And it's not just my imagination. When Milton came over Friday he commented that I was getting skinny. And as only a girl could do I said breathlessly 'REALLY?!! Thank you so much!' His girlfriend noticed too, and she looked thinner from the last time I saw her. We were complimenting each other left and right while the guys rolled their eyes. It was awesome.

I'm telling you, stress is evil and unnecessary. Do everything you can to rid it from your life. If you can change something, do it right this second. If you can't, learn to accept it right this second. There is no time to waste. I sleep better, I feel better and Drew and I are getting along better than we ever have before. I see again why I fell in love with him (*gag, barf* - sorry). Once I figured out (mostly by circumstance) what the issue was, I made sure that I did everything in my power to keep it at bay. I still find myself at the occasional pity party but my gratitude parties are waaay bigger.

By no means am I without my issues and problems. However, I'm no longer carrying them on my waist, hips, and thighs and that is a cause for celebration! Peace out y'all!