Moving On

The post that was for yesterday but that got interrupted by other events . . .

Today is The Big Day.

I start my job. I am not nervous. This is what I am meant to be doing. Of course, I am not exactly sure what I am going to be doing because I have never been an in-house counsel before. And I spent most of my series of interviews trying to make sure that I would like working with these people, I like these people. They appear to like each other. I can figure out the rest.

I spent the weekend getting ready. I donated bags and bags of clothes I didn't love to Goodwill. There is very little hanging in my closet right now but it's all stuff I particularly like. It felt great to get rid of stuff. Even a great deal of stuff from my mom. There's a couple pieces I kept, of course. As I got rid of the stuff, I felt her become more of a part of me. I guess what I didn't realize was that holding on to all those items was connecting me to the grief. Once I got rid of most of the stuff, the grieving part was over, I am at peace with her passing and now she lives in me. (No you didn't miss anything. She passed away a decade ago.) I never did know where I ended and she began.

How can I be nervous - I've got an incredible foundation of people on this new adventure with me.

Off we go then.

No Words

I just got an email that has taken away all my words. A friend from high school took his own life. We weren't exceptionally close. However, we were leads in a play together, and he once asked me to dance. I found him to be quite cool.

He left behind a wife and four kids. Damn it Nick.

I don't know whether to be incredibly angry or incredibly sad. I just know that wasn't how I thought that life would go.

Wallowing In It

Ah it's a glorious day off - no responsibilities, no work hanging overhead because I haven't started the new job yet, no housework hanging overhead (because I am housework adverse), and both son and husband are off skiing for the weekend.

I woke up on my own without the alarm, reached over for my smartphone, put it on Pandora Journey Radio and then read the book section of the New York Times.

Now I am sitting here with my chai, watching it snow, and watching everyone else sloshing down the parkway on their way to work.

Days like this are so rare - and I wouldn't want them often. I am looking forward to the new job and, of course, enjoy my boys. But every now and then . . .

Today I shall wallow. I shall just wallow in the joy of the day.

Shoes Glorious Shoes!

As I have mentioned before herein, I am roughly the size of an Olsen twin. I have now watched season three of Weeds and have a correction to make. I am roughly the height of an Olsen twin.

Accordingly, this brings up two important points about my shoes:

1. I went to the hospital to give birth in heels. I do not own flats except for running shoes.

2. My height precludes anything with an ankle or mary jane strap or the currently fashionable bootie type shoe.

Yesterday I got my Talbots catalog in the mail. While I cannot endorse the chambray prairie skirt look, I think these shoes are brilliant:

From the front (view not available on website but in catalog), the straps come up high enough to give a bootie illusion, yet the carefully aligned placement prevents them from segregating the foot into a hoof. Also, for the stripper that shops at Talbots, this sandal can also be had with a lucite heel. The new Talbots indeed!

Speaking of mary jane - I have to go to a drug test today for my new job. I worry. Not about the results but about the stage fright and having had enough drink. I will have consumed a chai and a bottle of water before I get there this morning at 8:30, yet still I worry.

How Many Middle Fingers Do You See in This Post?

The plan was to leave the exit interview gratefully and graciously. I would wait to yell "Adios Motherfckers" until I got in my car.

Alas.

There I was in front of HR and, later, my supervisor. Let's just say, I decided to be "helpful." With calmness and complete honesty I laid it all out for them. All I should say here is that the HR rep's jaw dropped open and didn't close during my entire diatribe and my supervisor broke down in tears.

But guess who got the last word? There was a huge system-wide computer snafu yesterday and I have to go back in today and relocate/redo a whole bunch of work. Accordingly, I feel like the image on the right and my extra day is a little going away gift from HR and my supervisor!

Karma is a bitch.

We can't get no satisfaction, except in Charleston

Marry Me is on Vh1 right now. I have always had a soft spot for Train and the band members therein (despite the recent man-liner look and their appearance on The Bachelor). Any band that can work the words "soy latte" and "fried chicken" into a song are winners in my book.

Speaking of calorie bombs . . . if I am going to have one, I am going to go for the gold. I don't eat a lot of crap but when I do, I reserve it for the craptastic. For example, cupcakes from Cupcakes in Charleston. Perhaps that is the problem - that I started with the best and nothing can ever ever compare. But we try.

And we get disappointed. But every new store we see springing up gives us high hopes that this will be the one that has brought a decent cupcake to our fair city. So, yesterday, when I was not working as those of us in our last week on the job tend to do, I went to the new store. So much promise. I got myself a chocolate salted caramel because I am a fan of the salt and sugar in the same bite, and I got my husband double chocolate.

Our night - the last episode of Season 3 of Weeds and our new cupcakes. (We're so cool. Like Spencer and Heidi, we should write a book on how to be us.) We're ready - fork poised, Little Boxes playing and we take a bite. And damn if our little cakes didn't just crumble away as if they had traveled here through the dessert on foot. Now, the point of a cupcake, in my opinion, is the frosting. But you need some cake or else you might as well just get a tub of frosting and once you have gone there you are walking a fine line between being okay and wearing crocs while believing that you can achieve the natural look without makeup.

Back to lifting photography until the camera is fixed. That pic of train I lifted from eco-beautifulweddings.com. I have never been to that web page, but it sounds cool.

And here it is . . .

Man Soup. Things got quite delightfully busy over the weekend - but here it is now.

Crock Pot Split Pea Soup, adapted from Food Network TV.
1 lb split peas, rinsed and picked over
2 stalks of celery, chopped up
2 carrots, chopped up
1 leek, green parts only, sliced
7-8 cups of water
1 smoked turkey leg.

My variation:
I added
4t Better than Bouillon, vegetable (Found at the Whole Foods. Worth every penny.)
And I used dried Italian seasoning instead of tying up some fresh herbs as the original recipe suggested. I cannot tell you what they were as foodnetworktv.com has been having trouble with their links recently.

Put it all in the crock pot on low for 6 to 8 hours. I served it with Pamela's gluten free cornbread muffins made using buttermilk and everybody was full and happy.

Man Soup

Hello Blog Peoples and Happy Friday.

It has come to my attention that I have male readers other than my husband. And, frankly, he only reads if I tell him that I have emoted on Virginia Tech and he wants to make sure that I have not slandered their name because my husband loves three things in this order (1) VT (2) his Nikon (3) his wife. It's okay. It's good to know where you stand.

Anyway, hello males. However, I cannot promise we will refrain from talking about the need for hard salami dipped in Velveeta when one is PMSing, makeup - oh dear God I love Sephora, handbags and shoes.

What I can share is a recipe that then two men in my life adore. It was my son's request for Valentines Day and is a new favorite of my husband's as well - Man Soup.

Start dusting of your crock pots! I am running a bit late today - recipe tomorrow.

Things from the 80's

I am watching Vh1 right now. Duran Duran disappears for decades and they come back with All You Need is Now? Huh. I am not sure that they were using their time wisely.

But the real reason for this post is this . . .

Remember in the late 80's/early 90's when Coach did leather pouch purses in red, light brown, dark brown and black? Who could have foreseen we would wind up here with iridescent purple Cs and patchwork jean themes? Not I. It has been a long, long time since I have lusted after a Coach purse. Then came this -

Oooooooh! I want to make sweet sweet love to this purse and marry it. I know. I know. Some pythons were harmed in the process. But have you ever met a python? Nasty little fckers. This purse is not really so much the slaughter of an animal for fashion as it is nature put to its best possible use - harnesses the power, if you will.

However. The price. I do not have that much money to spend on a purse. But let's say I did. Let's say I was independently wealthy and $800 was not even going to put a dent in my budget, I still don't think I would. How about you? If you ever found a lust worthy fashion item that was over, say, $500, and it was in your budget, would you spend $500 on fashion?

Two Weeks Notice

I gave the old place the customary two weeks. I specified the exact day that would be two weeks away.

My boss looked like a deer in headlights. She said I had too much to do to leave on that short notice (thereby proving she has no idea how I spend my days). I stood firm. Two weeks.

She then sent notice to HR that I was leaving, but added on a week to my final day.

There will be new craziness at my new job. Of course. That's the way jobs go. But it won't be INANE like this one.

Here We Go

You know, we are thinking that we are still going to go ahead with The Franchise.

Here's why (because I completely understand that, in theory, doing so is bat sh*t crazy).

I have had two things happen to me during my life that left some big scars - I was abused by a man and I lost my job. Not at the same time. Thank God. And, of course, there are others out there going through the same. Right now. They need a break. They need a job so they can escape or they need a job so they can feed themselves and their kids and build their resume.

I can create such a job for someone. One. I can create one managerial job at The Franchise at a salary that will allow someone to evolve into a better place in their life. I wish I could hire 20 or so people at once. But I shall do so one person at a time so long as we can make it work.

Oh, and The Franchise sells the best product ever. We never set out to find a franchise to run. We set out to bring the product to this city, and it just so happens that The Franchise allows us to do so in a way that makes sense and has the product we are looking for.

Yep. We're bat sh*t crazy. Yet here we go.

Must Change Living Room Paint Color

I filled all my Crate and Barrel glass hurricanes with candy conversation hearts. You will just have to take my word for it that it is totally adorable as I am without camera. That is my ode to decorating - I am very creative with the stuff that goes in the hurricanes around the candle. Perhaps coffee beans next?

Also, I am obsessed right now with the fact that my dining room is gray. What was once edgy in an otherwise cutesy house now makes me feel like I am hanging out in a prison mess hall. All I can think about is changing it.

We toured Franchise spaces this weekend and my husband and I are now in panic mode as in what the hell are we doing.

Clearly what all this is leading too is that I need to change the color of the dining room. Chocolate brown to match the coffee beans?

The Sacred Lunch Pail

My plans for the weekend?

Well, I told my new employer that I knew how to do a whole bunch of stuff. Must brush up on said stuff.

Also, the local chapter of the Virgina Tech Hokie Club is hosting an auction/wine tasting. This year it is being held at a sports bar that just happens to have the best wings in town. My husband tells me that he is going to bid on the sacred tin lunchbox with the VT logo. This lunch pail is carried on the field at games to represent the fact that the football team is hard workers - they get the job done - something to that effect.

Anyway, this lunch pail for some reason is the hot item every year and the bids for it get very large. Sounds like a perfect receptacle for wings if you ask me.

Have a good weekend!

A Window

Aww, guys. THANKS!

What a long strange trip it's been. (Someone might have said that before me.)

After one and three-quarter years of looking for a decent job after being laid off, I have found one. What appears to be, in fact, an excellent one. I am going to be in-house counsel for a corporation that produces products dear to my heart. No, not Kate Spade. It is a national corporation (hence all the travelling for interviews recently), but the job is based right here. I am getting to practice exactly the type of law I want to practice with people that I have thoroughly enjoyed getting to know.

I can only believe that there is some divine intervention at play here - all the jobs I didn't get during the past year or so left me available for this, this job that I couldn't have scripted as a more perfect legal job for me.

Not incidentally, my new office has a window. A window.

Gainfully

EMPLOYED.

I got the job!!! More soon.

Marine Layer

One of my top favorite things of all time . . .

California morning marine layer. Ooooooooh nice.

Yesterday I was in LA and I got to see it and feel it and smell it. Sooooo goood. No state on the Atlantic does morning marine layer. One must be in Cali for this.

This morning? I shoveled snow. And today I get to slosh through said snow to do some tours of some Franchise spaces. I guess we can't all just shut down when the snow hits. Although that would be my preference - a snow day with my boys.

The Magical Headband

I'm a headband person.

I do understand that they are, potentially, ridiculous on anyone over the age of 5. However, growing up on stage, I cannot resist the urge to add feathers, beads or flowers to my head.

Also, I am sort of short. I like to add a headband and tease up the part behind it, thereby gaining a full quarter of an inch. So, it's kind of a Snooki look if Snooki were, say, a tax attorney of Scottish heritage. But, honestly, mostly I just like the ability to bedazzle my head.

At Ann Taylor, when I was purchasing my "I shouldn't look like I worked at a nonprofit for the past year interview suit," I found a headband. A business headband, some might say. It is wide and black and silky - Hollywood, glamorous. It says, "I am going to close this film script deal on my terms. Now fetch me a martini!" Only, I am not an entertainment lawyer and this is not the 1940's. Yes, I get all that from a headband. I have a good time inside my head.

Anyway, the point of this post is that today I got a really, really bad headache, which is common for me when the temperature swings from -18 to 34. I sat at my desk rubbing my temples and trying to decide if I felt well enough to have a latte and take some aspirin. I wondered if this wasn't the beginning of a migraine. It was that pinching.

So I decided to take off my Hollywood Headband and rub more of my head. As if by magic I was transported back to reality and my headache went away. Damn it. I love that headband. Now I am just a nonproft plebe again.

Dear Marketing/Design Dept at Kate Spade

Oh Kate Kate Kate Kate. Kate.

A spade. Really? Isn't that all a little too obvious? Like an art student that paints a pot out of burnt sienna or sketches a picture of her feet. I cannot get behind this. I am leaving you for other passions this winter but trust you will do better for summer.

In other important news - interviews. Yes. Such a long process. I am involved in one that is a process.

Also, you have been holding out on me. You know that I am from Texas and, accordingly, would put on eyeliner before I left a burning house. However, you have never once told me that I should be wearing smashbox eyeliner, that it is the coup doo grass of eyeliners, that it glides on silky smooth and then stays put all day. This is a discovery akin to putting a man on the moon, only I benefit directly from this one.

I hope you have a fabulously terrific weekend - digging out, baking, working out, watching t.v. or whatever it is you do. My husband is back after a long business trip and we are going to catch up on The King's Speech and True Grit.

Comments as Currency

This post is about blogging. It was inevitable, no?

I got a little frustrated with blogging around Christmas/New Year. It became more than what it was supposed to be. I got totally turned off by comments as some form of currency. When things got super busy with Christmas, and then again with a flurry of interviews in the New Year, and various child based issues, I stopped commenting on a lot of blogs. And I lost a lot of readers. Which means many people checked into my blog just to get comments on theirs.

This isn't even just a suspicion. I can think of one blogger in particular who claims, right there on her blog, "Blogging - You get what you give" and openly begs for followers. That, to me, just all feels like a game and not what I want my blog or my blogging to be about.

I thought about taking the comment section off my blog. That way, I would never have readers that read me for a number, for a sitemeter count, for a comment on theirs. And I may still go that route. However, from time to time, there have been comments that I have absolutely treasured. So there you go. That's why comments are still an option below.

It took me a few weeks to put this all in perspective. I cut way back on my blogging activities and I figured out how to dismantle sitemeter. But the reason I am inspired again? - Those of you who are still here despite my little hiatus and don't use comments as currency. Because there are people out there who, for their own individual reasons, like to check in on what I have to say here.

And hopefully soon I'll have not just words but more pictures. Did you see Juliet's comment yesterday to my husband about my camera? Now that's the appropriate use of a comment.

The electronics are still having a snow day.

My camera, the one that decided to miraculously start working again, decided to take a permanent snow day. I like to include pictures with my entries, so this is most upsetting.

But even more of an issue at this very moment, my smartphone decided to cease holding a charge. Meaning - no alarm for this morning and the word for today is "rush!" Despite the fact that all the surrounding counties have shut their schools for another day, ours has not.

Back at it . . .

Snow Day!

At my current place of non-profit employ, we follow the county school district with regard to snow days. Accordingly, both my son and I have the day off - woot woot!

It's not so much snow - there was a little of that - as it is painfully cold. The windows are glazed over with ice, and I am wearing two sweatshirts. Tip: LuLu Lemmon hoodies are the warmest.

I instructed my son that snow day mean lots of blankets on the couch and reading. I finished The Lacuna last night and it is possibly just the most delicious book that I have ever read. That has spurred a whole interest in Mexican revolutionary art and, also, Frida Kahlo.

I am curled up at home today - revelling. I hope to get caught up with my blog friends today. I have missed you.