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.