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!