Things That (Apparently) Aren’t For Everyone

Driving, long hair, aviators, perms, dancing, leggings as pants and/or jeggings, taking shots, regular hygiene, pie, guilt trips, kick spins, technology, thoughtful consideration, dairy, patience, bike riding, using public restrooms respectfully, hot pants, organization, playing card and/or board games, spicy food, time management of any kind, meat, making plans, listening.

5 Beauty Tips

Beauty’s only skin deep…but that doesn’t mean that you should give up on your outer appearance.  Of course I am a firm believer in people that are beautiful in every color, shape, size, gender: as long as they’re not total ugly douche bags.  And by ugly I mean rude.

That being said, it doesn’t mean that you can’t improve on or maintain your appearance.  I’m talking about style, folks, and making smart choices when it comes to fashion.  I’m not some kind of fashion guru, and sometimes I play it safe.  But I do consider myself a decent dresser and therefore have a few tips that I think will help those who are fashion-challenged (read: apparently can’t dress themselves).

1)      Wear clothes that fit.  Clothes that are too big for your body suggest that you have something to hide, or that you are ashamed.  And maybe you are feeling insecure about your body, but that giant sweatshirt or baggy pants do nothing for your image.  Often times wearing clothes that fit, appropriately, will make you look and feel like a million bucks.  Now some people might argue that these big clothes are more comfortable.  Be that as it may, you can also find clothes that serve BOTH the purpose of comfort and fashion--that fit (Pajama Jeans!).  Besides, certain comfortable clothes are made for the purpose of lounging around the house, not necessarily for going out for a nice meal, out on the town, to work in an office, etc.  On the flip side, wearing clothes that are too small are just as unattractive.  It doesn’t matter what physical shape you are in-clothes that are too tight/small are never a good look (at least outside of the gym/pool/beach).

2)      For women only:  Wear shoes that fit, and that you can walk in.  First of all, if you can’t walk in them, no matter how hard you are trying to pretend like you’ve got the situation under control-everyone knows you don’t.  Those 4-inch stilettos are made for strippers and/or clubbing, not for toting boxes of files in between law firms, or for bar hopping.  You will end up walking down Colfax barefoot by the end of the night, trust.  Secondly, if the shoes don’t fit, you face the unfortunate situation of throwin shrimp or throwin biscuit.  Throwin shrimp is when your toes hang over the edge of the shoe.  Throwin biscuit is when your heel hangs off the back of the shoe.  Neither of which are a good look.  Also buying shoes that are noticeably too big for you will only make you have a severe case of Japan foot.  Seriously ladies, it’s not that hard.  Buy some shit that fits.  **Note: Props to the Husband for all these awesome terms!

3)      Do your hair.  It doesn’t matter if you just comb it, or if you put a little product in it.  Spend some time making it look decent. Try not to put so much product in it that it looks like a grease pile, but don’t just roll out because “you don’t care”.  Because guess what?  Other people do, and they will judge you.

4)      Dressing like a hipster doesn’t mean having to look like a 5 year old.  Ok, ok, I get it.  You’re different--and yet not really different at all.  Here’s the thing: I really think there is a way to be unique and express yourself without having to stand out so much that even YOU know you look ridiculous (all the while telling yourself you’re totally rocking it).  Be true to yourself.  Because that will come out in your confidence and self-ease; and will stand out way more than any yellow bandanna/brown jumper/fanny pack combo.

5)      Smile.  People used to tell me to smile all the time and I hated it.  Some days I still do.  But when I smile while walking down the street-because the lighting is pretty or a song I like comes on my iPod-I feel better.  And I know I look better all around.  Even if my outfit is off and my wig is a mess, I still look pretty good because I am wearing that one important accessory.

Ah, weddings

For a while now, I have been considering having a “real” wedding that includes wearing a white dress and picking out the flowers, the colors, the bridesmaids and best men, the general feeling of happiness and awe.  My wedding day, while spontaneous, only included the last elements on that list.  More and more I’ve been thinking how much fun that would be and that even though I've watched so many of my now married friends experience that planning/having a wedding is a royal, expensive pain in the ass, I could find a way to do it cheap and easy.  Then I start thinking about it in reality, which leads me to thinking about how planning a wedding makes women fucking crazy.  The amount of time, energy and money that goes into the process is insane, and for what?  A day, ONE day of your life that you will only remember via pictures because you were so “happy” (read: busy, stressed, accommodating everyone but yourself) that the day just "flew by" and you don’t remember any of it!  I also know that many men and women look fondly at their wedding day when other people are listening, but if these people are truly honest and reflect on everything surrounding that event,  I highly doubt the memories are all warm fuzzies.  Those honest folk out there have told me the truth, and there's at least one (if not more) little nugget of a story that reveals that truth. 

*Please note, I’m not disregarding the wedding day at all here, so those of you who want to argue about it can calm down.  I started the post off saying how I want one!*

So the idea of being even crazier than I already am doesn’t really appeal to me.  I deal with everyday stress and life pretty well (read: self-medicate) but having to plan a wedding on top of my daily family and occupational workloads is enough to encourage the self-medicating as it is.  Throw in a dose of overbearing, yet passive-aggressive personality that is the wedding planner (“oh, you like that color of pink for your flowers, that’s fun!”) and I’d be pushed straight over the edge (send me to Pueblo and call it done).  The whole experience of a woman getting married and therefore has an excuse to be a raging bitch is so common and fascinating there’s a TV show about it!   

Then we have this next step of crazy:  people who want to include their dogs in their weddings (http://www.bestweekever.tv/2011-02-24/45-photos-of-ring-bearer-dogs/).  I get that, for these people, pets are an important part of their life and that they do everything with them.  But do these pets really need to be included in the wedding party photos, wearing fucking clothes to boot?  And whose idea was this?  The bride’s, the groom’s or both?  Does the bride say “honey I’ve got a GREAT idea!” and then because she’s been so crazy about everything else in the wedding planning that the future husband is too scared to speak up and say “that is the stupidest idea I’ve heard yet”?  Because face it, men don’t really care about all the minute details and intricacies-they don’t have an opinion on the precise shade of cream that you use for the napkins or whether the hue of coral on the invitations matches the hue of the flowers that will be on the tables at the reception.  Men are ultimately more concerned with whether or not there will be food, booze and some action later.  Ok , and maybe a few other things--like, oh I don’t know, whether or not the ring bearer is a dog!  But in this case, do these men just realize that they have to choose their battles and this is not a battle worth fighting?  Or are they truly that into the idea, and if so--what’s their excuse?  At least the bride can use the wedding planning as her justification.

After careful consideration, and upon reflection, maybe it’s not worth it after all.  I mean, I did get the most important thing out of my wedding day-that element of happiness and awe.   Therefore I've decided that the money and energy spent will be put to much better use on a vacation.

Vintage Alice: Two Princes

I recently heard the Spin Doctors’ “Two Princes” on the radio the other day.  Seriously, why is this song still in circulation?  I suppose I can’t give that much credit to a radio station that also boasts their DJs “BJ, Howie, Erica” and “Slacker and Steve”.  Those DJ names alone are enough to change the station.

“Two Princes" came out in 1991, when I was twelve.  I remember thinking that it was pretty good, fun.  But that’s because I was TWELVE and it was the 90’s.  So much bad music came out in the early 90’s; in 1991 alone some of these gems were released:  R.E.M’s “Losing My Religion”, Boyz II Men’s “Motown Philly”, C&C Music Factory’s “Gonna Make You Sweat”, EMF’s “Unbelievable”, and Jesus Jones’ “Right Here, Right Now”.  *Side note:  DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince dropped “Summertime” and that song is legit.  Still stands up today.*  While I have heard some of these other songs in the past years, for whatever stupid ass reason I have heard “Two Princes” numerous times, and it does NOT stand up.  At all.  It’s as obnoxious as the lead singer’s face:  

I watched a movie the other night and this song was playing in the opening scene.  This movie was made in 2010.  Why won’t this song go away?  On a kid’s show I was watching the other day, one of the characters-who is supposed to be in middle school, mind you-clowned another one by comparing them to the Spin Doctors.  That’s bad.  That’s when you might want to consider throwing in the towel.  Instead, these guys are currently “celebrating their anniversary” by touring the UK.  Who is paying money to see these guys???  Are they 35 year old women in their Doc Martens reliving their teenage days?  Sick.  Give up the dream-all of you. 

PS.  My apologies if this song is now stuck in your head.  Just another reason why it needs to be abolished.  Forever.

Disappointment, My Old Friend

Ever since college, I've maintained the notion that it's better to have little or no expectations out of people (and life) so that when something works out in my favor, I will be pleasantly surprised.  I know this seems depressing, but actually it's fairly realistic -and (mostly) works.  Didn't get that dream job (I'm looking at you, Westword)? That's cool, didn't really expect to get it, but had to apply all the same.  The house you bought is falling apart?  All good!  That's why you only paid 150g's for it!  On the flip side, came home and dinner is my all-time favorite meal, the house is clean and I didn't  have to do any of it?  Pleasantly surprised!

Disappointment is a very old friend of mine.  Growing up, I was incredibly trusting and gullible, and my sisters knew it.  I don't know how many times I fell for the old "we'll give you money if you do our chores" bit and then once the chores are done, come to find out they don't have any money!  Silly Rachael.  Go look up "gullible" in the dictionary, it's not there.  Guess what?  It is!  I know because I actually went and fucking looked that shit up.  Ha!  Joke's on you, suckas! (This obviously brought on fits of laughter from my sisters).

This type of training, in conjunction with any number of various disappointments endured growing up (not making varsity soccer til my senior year in high school, pretty much being average at everything I tried to do) led to the inevitable decision to not have any expectations.  Because being disappointed, although an excellent guilt tripping tool and leverage used by parents, fucking sucks.

Acronyms Deuce

• DMID: Don't Mind If I Do
• FML: Fuck My Life
• IFHML: I Fucking Hate My Life (This can also be IFHMJ-Job- or IFHMS- Spouse-pretty much you can put whatever you want at the end depending on how angry you are)
• IFLML: I Fucking Love My Life
• FYK: For Your Knowledge (You know who you are)
• YAS: Yo Ass Stanks (You know who you are)
• WIGMST: When I Get My Shit Together
• IWKY:  I Will Kill You
• YAS: Your Acronyms Are Stupid (You know who you are)

Red Lipstick: A Warning For The Ladies

Red lips are really only hot on the right woman, at the right time.  Marilyn Monroe totally pulled it off.  Beyonce totally pulls it off.  Women who have olive toned or darker skin can pull off most darker shades of lipstick, most of the time.  If you are pale, you can wear it, but you have to do it just right.  You don't want to rock it like it's hot just to have it wash you out.  And you have to be careful when you wear it during the daytime.  Personally I love red, mauve, hot pink, maroon--shades that many can't wear, I can.  Or I guess I 'll just say I do, and  have been since I was fourteen.  But here's one instance that it doesn't work (outside of gritty porn)-after too many drinks.  Here's what happens:  you go out to the bar, and you have your lips all done right.  Lined with the lip liner, color in place.  For the first few drinks, your lips are super hot and on point (and you go to the bathroom to check and then remind yourself of this in the mirror).  Then you slowly change from drinking vodka drinks out of a straw to beer or maybe wine, and your lipstick gets all over your glass.  As it wears off and you take more trips to the bathroom, you reapply.  This works well for a while.  And then, somewhere in between, you forget about your lipstick.  It fades and you don't apply gloss, or chapstick (regardless of the fact that you have a mouth lined in red, but the rest is devoid of color).  You could care less, because in reality you are sooooo hot by this point you don't even need it!  Then you head to the ladies room and realize with a shock that your lipstick is totally not on anymore!  So, you whip it out and apply liberally.  Armed with your luscious Marilyn Monroe lips, you head back out.  Then you forget about it for the rest of the night.  Dance, drink, laugh, fall, cry, whatever it is you do (or apparently what I do).  It isn't until the next day that you take a look at: 1) your shirt that is covered in red lipstick smears, 2) the pics that your friend posted on Facebook where there's lipstick all over your mouth and teeth but not quite on your lips, 3) your pockets, which are now lined in lipstick because you didn't put the cap back on and/or 4) your lipstick, which is covered in lint, tobacco, hair, liquor; and then you realize that maybe, just maybe the lipstick wasn't such a great idea after all.

Thimble the Fairy

Recently I went to a kids birthday party with my husband and daughter.  It was for a four year old, I was slightly hung over, and it was in Evergreen (about a 40 minute drive up the mountain).  Nothing says Awesome like driving to a party on the weekend, in bad weather, hung over and tired, where I only know a handful of people.  We arrive and instantly I am disappointed: looks like many of the wives have "opted out" of this party--whereas the husbands all know each other and are all Hi-Five Happy (no matter that my husband gave me an opportunity to opt out and I chose not to).  I get some food for myself and my daughter and squeeze into a tiny chair at the kids table, since that's all that's available.  The hosts have done well by their daughter, with fancy party favors and an immaculate woodland-themed cake.  I finish eating and realize that since no one is acknowledging me, I will go to the basement to take a tour of the new play room.  As I am standing at the top of the stairs trying to figure out the baby gate, I see a woman at the bottom of the stairs.  This full grown woman (I mean, she's probably pushing forty and that's being generous) is wearing an outfit of all white, with boots that lace up her legs.  Her brown hair has pine cones hanging from it and a wreath of leaves and flowers at the crown of her head.  And she's wearing wings.  She pulls a small wooden flute out of her pocket and starts to play while ascending the stairs.  In the mental state I'm in, I am thoroughly confused until she asks for the birthday girl.  I backpedal, and start to call for the girl.  Turns out this lady is actually a fairy!  Her name is Thimble, and you can Google her if you want more information.  She comes into the party and proceeds to gather all the children around, speaking softly and offering sweet trinkets to the children: packets of bird seed to put on their windowsills; scrolls with "wishes" on them; glitter, I mean fairy dust to sprinkle on their heads.  My favorite was when she was asked if her wings were real, she replied, "of course they are!  Are the toes on your feet real?"; and when asked if she could fly for the kids, she said the police told her she could only fly in her own forest, otherwise she might get hit by a car (according to Zoe-I was too busy making smart remarks to hear her response). Naturally she was a huge hit with the little girls.  I will admit, I was somewhat mesmerized, but for very different, slightly judgmental reasons.  A few nights after the party, I stayed up late cleaning the house while the rest of my little family slept.  The next morning, my husband gets up and after a while makes a comment to the tune of "oh looks like someone cleaned last night".  Always prepared with a sarcastic remark, I say "yeah it would appear that way.  SOMEONE cleaned the house.  Matter of fact, it was probably the magical cleaning fairy".  My daughter, who always has such perfect timing, says "I know who it was!  It was Thimble!  Thimble the Fairy came to our house in the middle of the night and cleaned!".  Yes, darling.  It was Thimble.  The Mother Fucking Cleaning Fairy.  Now watch out before the shoe I was just putting on lands in the wrong place.

A Few of My Favorite Things (With Pictures)

To ensure that my blog isn’t littered with complaints and rants, I will now list some things that I like:

• High heels, especially really pretty/unique ones.  Not to be confused with stripper heels or FMPs (Fuck Me Pumps), which are unrealistic because they are terribly hard to walk in-even after a few drinks, when I can pretty much walk in anything (how well I walk in them will vary on how many drinks I’ve had, naturally.  But that’s not what we’re talking about right now).

These are some of the shoes in Wardrobe.  I have many more, because I love them so.

• Champagne.  Pouring the perfect glass and not spilling a drop.
• Dancing with my eyes closed.  This has SO many levels of greatness.

Obviously I am better at dancing than I am at art.

• Zumbahhhhhhh!
• Making people laugh.
• Putting together the perfect outfit, all the way down to my accessories.
• Spicy Party Mix.  Preferrably the brand they sell at the Russell’s in my building, but will substitute when desperate.

Totally legit right here.  I've been known to kill almost a whole bag in one sitting.

To be continued...

Dealing with Pregnant Women: A How To (and What NOT To Do)

I recently discovered an old journal entry from when I was pregnant and I’m so glad I found it.  These guidelines are applicable and sensible and should be used on a go-forward basis.

Things I will never say/do to a pregnant woman (many or all were said and done to me:

• "Hey there, Skinny!"
• "Wow, you’re getting really big!”
• Force them to choose where to eat because they’re pregnant.  “Well I don’t really care where we eat, but you’re pregnant so you probably REALLY care”.
• Treat them like they are incapable of doing anything themselves.  Just because they’re pregnant doesn’t mean that they can’t open a jar of pickles.
• At the same time keep in mind those things they can’t do: wash bathtubs, stay out too late and/or over-exert themselves socially, stand on their feet for too long, paint their own toenails, remove/tie their shoes.
• Blame ANY hormone problems on them being pregnant, even if (especially if) it is clear that the hormones and/or irrationality is due to the pregnancy.  “Uh oh, the pregnant woman is pissed/sad/emotional/irrational”.  What do you think this will do to said woman?  How do you think your head will feel when it’s had a jar of pickles thrown at it?
• Everything that happens to you when you are pregnant seems justified yet often unexplainable.  Feelings and emotions that are or seem to be irrational to everyone (including you) still happen uncontrollably and the LAST thing you need is someone pointing it out and making it worse.
•  Don’t ask them obvious questions: “How are you feeling?” “Hanging in there?” "Are you tired? Hungry?” “Are you pregnant?"  Also, try not to ignore what they are going through.  Ask more specific, meaningful questions.
• Don’t point out and blame crankiness on them either. 
• When they are 8 months pregnant and incredibly anxious about having a baby, don’t say things like “Oh, it’ll come in time” or “He/She/Baby will be here soon enough!” or “Enjoy it now, while you still can…get some sleep while you can”.  There is a reason why a woman is anxious and these statements only grind on the nerves of the anxious woman.  Do you think she's stupid?!  She knows the baby will come soon enough/in time.  If she could sleep on this giant stomach that has a baby in it (which is coming soon enough, trust she heard you the first time), she FUCKING WOULD.
• Don’t act like a know-it-all expert.  If a pregnant woman wants my advice, I will give it to her but the unsolicited advice and opinions are seriously obnoxious.
• Try to keep in mind, more than anything, that it is different for each woman/family/couple and that one of the most important things is to LISTEN to the woman and try to be as accommodating, understanding and caring as possible, without passing any judgment.

So basically treat her like a strong, amazing woman.  Growing and bearing a child is no small feat.  And keep your damn comments to yourself.

Sketcher ShapeUps: Not Just for Women!

It's hard to tell, but this man was wearing Sketcher ShapeUps at lunch the other day.  

A Thank You Note

Dear Sketchers Fitness Group,

Whoever is responsible for making the new line of shoes called the "Shape Up" deserves to be recognized-- as this person, this genius has given women everywhere an excuse to wear stacked tennis shoes everyday, everywhere.  Not only are the shoes comfortable, they help you lose weight!  Women will never again have to worry about hitting the gym or wearing those nasty, attractive shoes that compliment their outfits.  Why should they?  They've got Shape Ups and all the many knock offs to wear everywhere they go.  No matter that Shape Ups and sweatpants go hand in hand; in fact that's a bonus-what better way to exercise than in your sweats?!  And since these shoes are so versatile, women can wear these beauties to the office, out to dinner, running errands, out to the bar, on a walk with their girlfriends, around the house!   Especially now that you're offering an entire line that includes boots, and at such an affordable price ($80-$125 each).  Since we all know that Sketchers is known for making long lasting, quality shoes, I know that's money well spent.   So thank you, from all of us ladies, for relieving women everywhere of that burden we've been carrying around with us called "femininity".  Well, gotta run--fashion, comfort and weight loss are calling!

Colfax is Burning

First, let me just get this shit out of the way: I am a Starbucks Crackhead.  I drink it almost every day.  I try to speak their stupid language and order it without deviating from the menu (which is atypical for me-but more on that later).  The large majority of the time, I tip.  I have a Starbucks Gold Card.  Fucking judge me all you want, it’s 2011, remember? I am owning shit.  No pretensions.  That being said, the Starbucks drive through on Colfax and St. Paul serves their coffee so fucking hot, it burns my mouth EVERY TIME.  Doesn’t matter the time of day, or whether you drive thru or walk in.  Now, my husband used to serve coffee to real assholes at the Barnes and Noble downtown.  When I told him about the throat burners at this Starbucks, he said “were you on your phone?” Shit, maybe.  Then he said, “did you tip?” Uhhh, I think so?  According to him, those people who don’t tip and/or are on their phones get their coffee so hot, it’s meant to burn them.  The barista equivalent of spitting in your food, if you will.  Ok, I get that.  And I get that this particular coffeehouse is not only on Colfax, but it’s right by East so these people have all kinds of assholes to serve and reasons to hate their job (let’s avoid the whole ‘then why don’t they just quit' argument at this point).  Armed with all of this information, I go back and try again.  Still fucking too damn hot to drink.  Burned my tongue, mouth and throat AGAIN.  Since I am a crackhead, I know what my drug is supposed to taste like.  The last time I went,  I asked them in a tiny voice if they could maybe, just maybe serve it about 10 degrees lower than normal.  Like I said, I try not to be “that girl” and deviate from the menu or have too many special requests.  The response was, “Our coffee is served at 170 degrees.  Are you saying you want it at 160?” (Just so you know, I was aggressively typing those words to show their irritation with me).  “Um, yes please”, I replied.  I pull up, tip them, turn the music down, not on the phone, check check check.  All smiles, and the girl working the window smiles back.  Drive away, take my first sip and the shit is HOTTER THAN EVER.  Fucking bastards.  But like a typical addict, I still come back for more.  Only now I simply stick to my regular dealer on the mall.

Acronyms (Not To Be Confused With Acrostics)

I love acronyms.  I love to make them up, or use those that already exist.  Here are a few of my favorites off the top of my head:

• HBIC: Head Bitch In Charge
• TBIC: The/this/that Bitch is Crazy
• PMITFF: Punch Me In The Fucking Face
• SMITFF: Shoot Me In The Fucking Face
• FYP: For Your Perusal (for those of you that don't like FYI.  You know who you are).
• SMDH: Shakin My Damn Head
• ELSM: Easy Like Sunday Morning (seriously JUST made that up right now)
• NFW: No Fucking Way
• SOB: Son of A Bitch (old but good)

The beauty of most of these is that they are SFW (Safe For Work).  You want to talk shit about your colleague but you don't want to cuss in an email and/or put it in writing?  Use an acronym!  Also very good for texting.  "I am on RTD on way home.  Lady next 2 me won't stop talking, and stinks.  PMITFF".


On the flip side, here are some acronyms I refuse to use, ever: LOL, OMG, TTFN.

**Acronyms will be an ongoing post.**

2011: The Year of Me

I have decided that 2011 is going to be a great year.  It is going to be a year without pretensions; a year to be the best at being me.  One of the ways that I am going to accomplish this is to identify what makes me who I am-the good, the bad and the bitchy.  This means humbling myself, understanding that the only person I need to impress is myself.   This includes, amongst other things, wearing "smart" shoes (but only to and from my parking spot, naturally); publicly owning that I like some pretty cheesy music (come on, Bruno Mars can sing); not pretending to like the Broncos just because I'm from Denver and therefore I should (and especially because I don't have a clue what's going on); accepting that sometimes (ok, oftentimes) I am pretty fucking ridiculous.

So, along with the gift I am giving to myself of being good to myself, I am going to give you this gift, this little gem of a blog.  Rants and raves, humor and heartfelt, alliteration and all.  2011 is going to be a fucking stellar year.

**Disclaimer:  I know that not everyone cares about, wants to read about, or thinks the same way that I do about things and I'm certainly not sitting over here trying to pretend they do.  But that's the beauty of the situation:  you can take it or leave it, but to me, it's still the Year of Me.  Holleration!