Even when you own the company, sometimes you have to be on the front line dealing with the public. Seeing as I am not a people person, this has never been one of my favorite parts of gainful employment. I'd love to have a job *cough*WRITER*cough* where I don't have to see the majority of bargain hunting tourists on their way to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. For now, however, I suffer in silence. One thing I do love is lists, so... let's make a list of customers I love to hate!
1. The oversharer: This person has absolutely no problem telling you all about their son who is in jail for hitting his pregnant girlfriend, their need for adult diapers, and everything their doctor learned from their recent blood test. If you are lucky, they'll skip the backstory (which can take FOR-EV-ER) and just jump right in and assume you know them and everyone they know.
(There are a few customers that I have a rapport with. I actually enjoy their stories and want to know about their family. The oversharer is more than likely someone I've never met.)
2. The undersharer: This person doesn't talk at all. Ever. You can ask them if they are ready to check out because they are standing an ambivalent distance from the cash register, but don't expect a response. You can tell them "Thanks! Have a nice day!" but they won't say it back to you. Because they don't care if you have a nice day. You are just the hired help. Either that or they are a deaf mute.
3. The licker: Don't you ever lick your fingers when you are counting out money to me! Crazy sycophant! (BTW, I do actually know what sycophant means, and it is not used correctly here. It's an in-joke, grammar Nazi!)
4. The person who puts change on the counter even though I am holding out my hand: Pretty self-explanatory. I'm literally holding out my hand to accept your change. Why would you bypass my hand to put it on the counter just to make me pick it up again? WHY?!
5. The person who doesn't know when to stay home: If you are sick, stay home. If you are too lazy to put on clothes and decide to just throw on unlaced work boots under your nightgown, stay home. If you haven't bathed in 3 days and smell like hot, wet garbage, please for the love of God, stay home!
6. The insulter: "This thrift store smells like someone's grandma's garage." Guess what! WE SELL USED SHIZ! This ain't Bloomingdales, lady. Insulting my business, our prices, the things we sell, or even the weather is going to piss me off (even if I secretly agree with you). Keep it to yourself, A-Hole.
VIDEO: SNL - The A-Holes
7. The "helpful" one: "This one is $.99. It should come to $1.08 after tax. I'll give you a five, and you give me back 3.92." Hey, helpy helper. I've got this. Thanks, but I can add and subtract all by myself!
8. The preoccupied mother: No, I will not watch your children. No, I will not let you know your baby just picked up a thumb tack and put it in it's mouth. No, I will not think it's cute when you smile and tell me that your ankle biter just broke something but your husband only gave you $10 to spend for the week, and you can't afford to buy it. I don't know you. I don't know your child. When you take it in public, put it in a stroller or on a leash!
9. The curious cat: For some reason, I have more of this type of customer than all the others combined. They stand in front of the bathroom and ask if we have a bathroom. They ask if we have boy's clothes in a size 8 with Transformers on the shirts. They ask if I know what this random kitchen gadget is for. They ask if I know anything about a piece of furniture. I know it was donated. That's about it. Use your eyeballs and/or your imagination.
10. The permission seeker: "I'm just going to look around. Is that ok?" No. We force people to buy things with their eyes shut. "Can I use this public bathroom?" It's actually an empty elevator shaft, so aren't you glad you asked first?
And just so I don't sound like an awful tyrant, let's list 5 customers I didn't think I'd enjoy but I do
1. The hipster: As people they are super annoying. As thrift store customers, they appreciate the cheap and eclectic.
2. Brides: There is nothing better than a crafty bride when you work at a thrift store. Everything has possibilities. They can look it up on Pintrest and make something magical. Plus they have big budgets.
3. Children buying books: Enough said. I see some of my childhood self in you, tiny readers.
4. Lonely old ladies: Seeing as I plan on becoming a lonely, old, spinster woman, I have a soft spot for these ladies. They just want fabric for their sewing machines or some powder for their feet. The best things in life are simple pleasures.
5. Nope, I can only think of 4. I am an awful tyrant.
PS: I love the majority of my customers. I am really lucky to do what I do. There is just that 1% that drives me insane!
Friday, July 19, 2013
Thursday, March 7, 2013
I have 32 teeth
Oral hygiene is important. That's why it isn't good that I grind my teeth when I'm frustrated. It also isn't good when I have headaches and dizzy spells from clenching my jaw. But some days (yesterday), I have to clench in order to not attack stupid people. It's a full-time job, and I already have about 3 of those.
So in honor of my teeth, I'm going to list 32 things that make me annoyed/angry in the hopes that they will reside here rather than in my mouth.
1. People who try to take advantage of me. I'm pretty generous. Therefore, if you try to take advantage of me, chances are you are a sub-par human being.
2. Humming and/or whistling. It grates on my nerves. I will cut you.
3. People who insult something because they want it. At first I thought this was an occupational hazard, but the more I think about it the more I realize it happens in all aspects of life. In terms of my job, the best example I can think of is: We had just purchased a chain from Lowes to lock up a bicycle that was for sale. Twenty minutes after locking up the bicycle, it sold (see also: examples of my luck). The customer loaded the bicycle and drove away. The very next customer noticed the chain puddled around the pole and asked "how much do you want for that old, rusty chain out there?" It was literally less than one hour old. It was shiny as heck and had no rust whatsoever. But if he made it seem worthless, he might be able to score it for a bargain. This doesn't work with me. What I wanted to say was "if it's worthless, why do you want it? I wouldn't want to insult your wallet by making you pay for such a hunk of junk! I'll just keep it rather than pass the burden of owning such a heap of trash." Don't pull my pigtails if you like me. Don't insult my stuff if you want to buy it. Everything has worth, and everything has flaws. Pointing them out will not make you a hero. It will just make you an asshole.
4. People who play the victim.
5. People who lick their fingers to count money or turn the page of a magazine.
6. Liars and thieves.
7. Running out of Coke Zero.
8. Baby talk in any form - even to a baby.
9. When my cat licks my leg to get my attention.
10. Having cat hair all over everything.
11. People who compliment my eyes (thank you!) but then call them blue (wha...? My eyes are green. They are so green that they sometimes appear yellow. Are you just complimenting that I have two? Maybe you should focus on your own eyes and get them checked. I know a really cute optometrist.)
12. Getting a run or pick in my tights.
13. People who hate something just because it's popular.
14. Hormones. The problem is not that I have some, but they literally make me angry, and I can't help it.
15. Needing to stop what I'm doing to go pee.
16. Spoilers.
17. When someone is purposefully vague to make you question them further. I don’t enjoy the sport of fishing, and neither do I enjoy you fishing for someone to gossip to.
18. Feeling helpless.
19. Not knowing how to do something. This is my biggie. I really, really, really hate not knowing how to do it. This is different from feeling helpless. Sometimes when you are helpless, there isn't anything to be done. When there is a solution but I don't have it, it drives me crazy!
20. Underwear that rolls down or rides up.
21. Telemarketers. If you call me on our business phone, you will get an airhorn in the ear, and that's no joke.
22. Mosquitoes.
23. Picking on or belittling someone I love.
24. Drama.
25. When I'm out buying paint, painters tape, drop cloths, and rollers and the cashier asks me "are you going to do some painting?" It happens regardless of what I'm buying. I could be buying a book on ducks, a bag of mini Snickers, and a wall clock, and the cashier would ask me "are you doing an experiment to see what time of day ducks most like to eat Snickers?". Salespeople are always up in my business.
26. When someone asks me a question and then cuts off my answer. People do this ALL. THE. TIME. to me when they are asking directions. If you knew, why did you ask? I’ll will send your butt to Nebo Mountain, tourist!
27. When people don't watch their kids. I'm sure you think them jumping on my couch is cute, but I think they are brats and you should be sterilized.
28. Friends you can never rely on.
29. Humidity.
30. Text forwards.
31. Painful pimples. Damn hormones again!
32. Naturally skinny people. ‘Nuff said.
For someone with my anger issues, I thought this list would be easier to compile. Don’t worry, I could have 32 different ones by tomorrow.
So in honor of my teeth, I'm going to list 32 things that make me annoyed/angry in the hopes that they will reside here rather than in my mouth.
1. People who try to take advantage of me. I'm pretty generous. Therefore, if you try to take advantage of me, chances are you are a sub-par human being.
2. Humming and/or whistling. It grates on my nerves. I will cut you.
3. People who insult something because they want it. At first I thought this was an occupational hazard, but the more I think about it the more I realize it happens in all aspects of life. In terms of my job, the best example I can think of is: We had just purchased a chain from Lowes to lock up a bicycle that was for sale. Twenty minutes after locking up the bicycle, it sold (see also: examples of my luck). The customer loaded the bicycle and drove away. The very next customer noticed the chain puddled around the pole and asked "how much do you want for that old, rusty chain out there?" It was literally less than one hour old. It was shiny as heck and had no rust whatsoever. But if he made it seem worthless, he might be able to score it for a bargain. This doesn't work with me. What I wanted to say was "if it's worthless, why do you want it? I wouldn't want to insult your wallet by making you pay for such a hunk of junk! I'll just keep it rather than pass the burden of owning such a heap of trash." Don't pull my pigtails if you like me. Don't insult my stuff if you want to buy it. Everything has worth, and everything has flaws. Pointing them out will not make you a hero. It will just make you an asshole.
4. People who play the victim.
5. People who lick their fingers to count money or turn the page of a magazine.
6. Liars and thieves.
7. Running out of Coke Zero.
8. Baby talk in any form - even to a baby.
9. When my cat licks my leg to get my attention.
10. Having cat hair all over everything.
11. People who compliment my eyes (thank you!) but then call them blue (wha...? My eyes are green. They are so green that they sometimes appear yellow. Are you just complimenting that I have two? Maybe you should focus on your own eyes and get them checked. I know a really cute optometrist.)
12. Getting a run or pick in my tights.
13. People who hate something just because it's popular.
14. Hormones. The problem is not that I have some, but they literally make me angry, and I can't help it.
15. Needing to stop what I'm doing to go pee.
16. Spoilers.
17. When someone is purposefully vague to make you question them further. I don’t enjoy the sport of fishing, and neither do I enjoy you fishing for someone to gossip to.
18. Feeling helpless.
19. Not knowing how to do something. This is my biggie. I really, really, really hate not knowing how to do it. This is different from feeling helpless. Sometimes when you are helpless, there isn't anything to be done. When there is a solution but I don't have it, it drives me crazy!
20. Underwear that rolls down or rides up.
21. Telemarketers. If you call me on our business phone, you will get an airhorn in the ear, and that's no joke.
22. Mosquitoes.
23. Picking on or belittling someone I love.
24. Drama.
25. When I'm out buying paint, painters tape, drop cloths, and rollers and the cashier asks me "are you going to do some painting?" It happens regardless of what I'm buying. I could be buying a book on ducks, a bag of mini Snickers, and a wall clock, and the cashier would ask me "are you doing an experiment to see what time of day ducks most like to eat Snickers?". Salespeople are always up in my business.
26. When someone asks me a question and then cuts off my answer. People do this ALL. THE. TIME. to me when they are asking directions. If you knew, why did you ask? I’ll will send your butt to Nebo Mountain, tourist!
27. When people don't watch their kids. I'm sure you think them jumping on my couch is cute, but I think they are brats and you should be sterilized.
28. Friends you can never rely on.
29. Humidity.
30. Text forwards.
31. Painful pimples. Damn hormones again!
32. Naturally skinny people. ‘Nuff said.
For someone with my anger issues, I thought this list would be easier to compile. Don’t worry, I could have 32 different ones by tomorrow.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Is It Better to Be Poor or Fat?
This is the question I asked myself when I was standing at WMart contemplating peanut butter. The kind I like JIF Whipped only comes in small jars while the less liked JIF Creamy comes in a gargantuan tubs. Vats, really. Barrels.
I don't usually stand around contemplating peanut butter in the first place. I'm on sort of a kick right now where that is all I want to eat for breakfast. Peanut butter on toast. Not exactly inventive, but oh so good. So I'm going through some JIF fast. The whipped is light both in texture and in calories at about 150 for 2 tablespoons. The creamy is 210 calories for the same amount. So, should I get the big one that I like less and has more calories because it's cheaper or stick with the little one and spend more money?
I bought the vat. Being poor is hard.
I don't usually stand around contemplating peanut butter in the first place. I'm on sort of a kick right now where that is all I want to eat for breakfast. Peanut butter on toast. Not exactly inventive, but oh so good. So I'm going through some JIF fast. The whipped is light both in texture and in calories at about 150 for 2 tablespoons. The creamy is 210 calories for the same amount. So, should I get the big one that I like less and has more calories because it's cheaper or stick with the little one and spend more money?
I bought the vat. Being poor is hard.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Happy Valentine's Day!
I love all holidays. I think it's because we celebrated even the smallest one when I was a child. I don't celebrate much anymore. Birthdays, anniversaries, and even Christmas has become a little toned down. I'm not one to celebrate Valentine's Day ever (relationship or not), but I think this year I will. It seems strange that THIS is the year I chose to participate in a holiday about love. The fact is that I have lots of love, and I want to celebrate it! I might celebrate Daylight Savings Time too. Don't put me in a box! I'm unpredictable!
Back to the things I love. First of all, I love THIS
Why yes, that is very inappropriate for a child's valentine. JUST WHAT I WAS THINKING!
I also love THIS and THAT!
And in closing... someone asked me to be their Valentine, and I responded with "Is this a mass text?" It wasn't. It doesn't get any better than that!
Back to the things I love. First of all, I love THIS
Why yes, that is very inappropriate for a child's valentine. JUST WHAT I WAS THINKING!
I also love THIS and THAT!
And in closing... someone asked me to be their Valentine, and I responded with "Is this a mass text?" It wasn't. It doesn't get any better than that!
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
The Fear
I used to live my life in a... we'll say fearless way (for lack of a better word). Young people are accused of thinking they are invincible, and for me that was true. Two things happened to change me: 1) I matured and stopped making idiotic life choices and 2) I lost someone very close to me in an accident. It is lucky (if you could ever call someone you love dying lucky) that the accident happened AFTER I had matured. Otherwise it might have pushed me further into avoiding reality by employing some BS theory that you only live once. YOLO, as it has been coined, is the bread and butter of today's youth. They use it as an excuse to act stupid and bratty, get their way, or justify their lack of responsibility. It has become the battle cry of a generation. If a generation too self-absorbed to get off their iPhones needs a battle cry. 
Saturday Night Live spoofed the YOLO craze with a Lonely Island music video featuring Adam Levine and Kendrick Lamar. Their message was if you only live once you should be uber careful. The song is great. It features examples of how to be watchful from the true "there's no such thing as too much Purell" to the hilariously ridiculous "two words about furniture - killing machines." My take on YOLO is somewhere in between the two worlds. If you are only meant to live once, make it meaningful. That doesn't mean do whatever you want or nothing you want. Everything good is bad for you. Just don't go over the deep end. (Hello, I'm addicted to Aspartame, deal with it.)
We are going to pretend Zac Efron was interrupted while tattooing Yolonda, the name of his dying grandmother because aside from this ill-fated choice of body art, I think he's very dreamy.
What it all boils down to is fear. You can either laugh in the face of fear by saying (and meaning) that you only live once and to heck with everyone else but yourself. Or you can acknowledge the fear and try to shelter yourself from it. I am the latter. I have lived dangerously in the past, so now I am aware of every single risk. What if, like a cat, you only have 9 lives and I used 8 of mine before I turned 18? Which brings me to this week's fear. I didn't even know I had it until it was too late. Sometimes things sneak up on you like that.
This is a 26 ft Uhaul truck.
I can drive pretty well. I grew up in the country. There is no public transportation here. If you want to get somewhere you drive. You could walk, but in most cases you'd have to pack a meal or two and a blanket for nap time. I have driven many vehicles in many different weather conditions. I do not like to drive on the interstate. I try to avoid it, but if it isn't avoidable I suck it up and do it. I have been in a few accidents over the years both as a passenger and a driver. None were my fault. Technically one was, but I blame it on that the road was covered in ice. Anyway...
When my work started renting Uhaul trucks, I had no idea I'd have to go pick one up. Not to mention that I'd have to drive the biggest one (and the biggest truck I've ever driven). Across town. By myself. With no practice. Now some people may say I'm overreacting, but I have a respect for human life, so I'll tell you that this supposed road trip was routed to be on the DEADLIEST HIGHWAY EVER! So deadly in fact that its nickname is I'll-kill-ya Highway (actual name Alcoa). If that ain't fear, I don't know what is.
It wasn't actually that bad, which is the tricky part about fear. The anticipation is almost always worse. I prayed the whole time. Sometimes it was a normal prayer "please Lord, let me not kill that car full of people next to me. God, please don't let that truck pull out in front of me." Most of the time, however, it was incoherant ramblings "help me and be with me" over and over and over again. One terrific surprise was that I only had to drive a 17 ft truck instead of the bohemeth 26 ft one. The 9 feet probably makes a world of difference.
The tiny by comparison 17 ft truck.
I realized something during my drive. God doesn't want us to live in fear. He wants us to be confident and at peace. He wants us to live. Not because we ONLY live once, but because we GET to live once. Life is a gift. And thankfully I didn't cause any returns with my big ol' truck!
Saturday Night Live spoofed the YOLO craze with a Lonely Island music video featuring Adam Levine and Kendrick Lamar. Their message was if you only live once you should be uber careful. The song is great. It features examples of how to be watchful from the true "there's no such thing as too much Purell" to the hilariously ridiculous "two words about furniture - killing machines." My take on YOLO is somewhere in between the two worlds. If you are only meant to live once, make it meaningful. That doesn't mean do whatever you want or nothing you want. Everything good is bad for you. Just don't go over the deep end. (Hello, I'm addicted to Aspartame, deal with it.)
What it all boils down to is fear. You can either laugh in the face of fear by saying (and meaning) that you only live once and to heck with everyone else but yourself. Or you can acknowledge the fear and try to shelter yourself from it. I am the latter. I have lived dangerously in the past, so now I am aware of every single risk. What if, like a cat, you only have 9 lives and I used 8 of mine before I turned 18? Which brings me to this week's fear. I didn't even know I had it until it was too late. Sometimes things sneak up on you like that.
I can drive pretty well. I grew up in the country. There is no public transportation here. If you want to get somewhere you drive. You could walk, but in most cases you'd have to pack a meal or two and a blanket for nap time. I have driven many vehicles in many different weather conditions. I do not like to drive on the interstate. I try to avoid it, but if it isn't avoidable I suck it up and do it. I have been in a few accidents over the years both as a passenger and a driver. None were my fault. Technically one was, but I blame it on that the road was covered in ice. Anyway...
When my work started renting Uhaul trucks, I had no idea I'd have to go pick one up. Not to mention that I'd have to drive the biggest one (and the biggest truck I've ever driven). Across town. By myself. With no practice. Now some people may say I'm overreacting, but I have a respect for human life, so I'll tell you that this supposed road trip was routed to be on the DEADLIEST HIGHWAY EVER! So deadly in fact that its nickname is I'll-kill-ya Highway (actual name Alcoa). If that ain't fear, I don't know what is.
It wasn't actually that bad, which is the tricky part about fear. The anticipation is almost always worse. I prayed the whole time. Sometimes it was a normal prayer "please Lord, let me not kill that car full of people next to me. God, please don't let that truck pull out in front of me." Most of the time, however, it was incoherant ramblings "help me and be with me" over and over and over again. One terrific surprise was that I only had to drive a 17 ft truck instead of the bohemeth 26 ft one. The 9 feet probably makes a world of difference.
I realized something during my drive. God doesn't want us to live in fear. He wants us to be confident and at peace. He wants us to live. Not because we ONLY live once, but because we GET to live once. Life is a gift. And thankfully I didn't cause any returns with my big ol' truck!
Friday, February 8, 2013
Interest lost
It has been so long since I've logged into this blog that I typed CrabsVsCountryGirl. That is a whole other story all together, and not one that I know anything about (thank God). I'm not a fan of ocean life. Haha. Bet you thought I was going somewhere else with that. Anyway...
I've been going through some pretty drastic changes in the past year. I moved, I separated from my husband, and I've had some medical issues (no, not crabs, although I do appreciate a good throwback joke). In all of this, plus the consequences (financial worry, emotional distress, financial worry, unorganization that comes with uprooting your life, did I mention finances yet?) I seem to have lost my way a little bit. Things that used to bring me pleasure no longer do.
I've been a reader my whole life. Even before I could read I was fascinated with books. Lately I've tried a few different books, and I just can't seem to be engaged. The first one I really noticed a problem with was The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin. The lovely and talented Jen recommended this book to me. At first I was intrigued by the idea, but as I got further and further into the book two things struck me. 1) This lady didn't start out unhappy. She came from a place of discontent and ungratitude for all the blessings she had, but stopping to smell the roses is not the same as finding happiness. 2) I'm a little too bitter right now about my divorce to hear about how she spent a week being really nice to her husband. The second book I tried to read was Warm Bodies. I saw the trailer for the film, and I thought it looked interesting. Surprisingly the book was donated to my thrift store about a week later, and it seemed like a magical sign (we get lots of great books, but rarely are they THAT new and pop culturally relevant). I've been reading it for month, and I'm about 60 pages in. Normally I read a book in under 2 days. Finally, I tried Beautiful Creatures by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl. My friend Jessica thought the two of us should read it because we both have a penchant for YA Fiction. Coincidentally it is also being made into a movie, and if we both liked the book we would plan to see the movie. She was waiting on me to give her the copy of the book when I was finished, and she helpfully reminded me of the movie's release date a couple of times. This nudging was the ONLY reason I finished the book. To say I hated it was an understatment. It inspired me to write a bad review, which is pretty unheard of. I can generally find something nice to say. I could not find a thing in this book that I enjoyed. (If you are interested in my review, you can read it here.)
I've had a problem with writing recently too. If you couldn't tell by how long it has been between my blog posts, you could look at my Twitter feed which used to be filled daily, or my Facebook which hardly ever gets anything but a shared link from Yahoo News. I mentioned before that I took a writing class last summer. It helped me write a novel in 2 weeks. Unfortunately it also changed my opinion of the writer who taught the class. I use the term "taught" loosely. She was flighty 99% of the time, never responded to anyone's work, didn't bother to update her syllabus from 2008, and didn't follow through with the features of the class that were promised. She did, however, demand we purchase her new book (after already shelling out $100 for the class) during week 4 of a 6 week class. Finally she resorted to bribery by asking that if we could work as her own little mini publicists and get her to a NYT bestseller that she would "take us under her wing". I was so disillusioned by the hard sale, that I dropped out of the class and haven't wrote much since. Granted, I did get my novel out of it, and I am so so proud of it, but I haven't bothered to go back and revise it.
Finally I get to fashion. Or more accurate I suppose is appearance. I love clothes. I love buying them. I love watching shows about sewing them. I even love selling used ones to needy families. It may just be part of the grieving process, but I don't spend as much time as I used to on the way I look. I let my hair's roots go un-dyed. Forget plucking my eyebrows. I chose glasses over contacts more frequently than I used to. Part of it is that I feel like I don't have anywhere to go. I work, I come home, I sleep, I repeat. The other part of it is that I feel like I'm in this great big holding pattern. I'm not divorced yet, but I'm not married either. What good would it do me to feel confident and pretty? I can't move on. I can't go back. I can't afford a divorce. I just have to sit and wait. In the meantime, you can bet I won't be reading, writing, or grooming.
To get myself out of the funk I'm in, I'm trying to do other things to occupy my time. I exercise although I could really kick that up a notch. I cook although it's easier to just eat out when it's for one. I'd love to try my hand at making clothes, but I'm a sewing machine killer. I can break one so fast it isn't even funny. What will I do to pass the time and ease the boredom? Will my love of reading, writing, and fashion ever return? Stay tuned!
I've been going through some pretty drastic changes in the past year. I moved, I separated from my husband, and I've had some medical issues (no, not crabs, although I do appreciate a good throwback joke). In all of this, plus the consequences (financial worry, emotional distress, financial worry, unorganization that comes with uprooting your life, did I mention finances yet?) I seem to have lost my way a little bit. Things that used to bring me pleasure no longer do.
I've been a reader my whole life. Even before I could read I was fascinated with books. Lately I've tried a few different books, and I just can't seem to be engaged. The first one I really noticed a problem with was The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin. The lovely and talented Jen recommended this book to me. At first I was intrigued by the idea, but as I got further and further into the book two things struck me. 1) This lady didn't start out unhappy. She came from a place of discontent and ungratitude for all the blessings she had, but stopping to smell the roses is not the same as finding happiness. 2) I'm a little too bitter right now about my divorce to hear about how she spent a week being really nice to her husband. The second book I tried to read was Warm Bodies. I saw the trailer for the film, and I thought it looked interesting. Surprisingly the book was donated to my thrift store about a week later, and it seemed like a magical sign (we get lots of great books, but rarely are they THAT new and pop culturally relevant). I've been reading it for month, and I'm about 60 pages in. Normally I read a book in under 2 days. Finally, I tried Beautiful Creatures by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl. My friend Jessica thought the two of us should read it because we both have a penchant for YA Fiction. Coincidentally it is also being made into a movie, and if we both liked the book we would plan to see the movie. She was waiting on me to give her the copy of the book when I was finished, and she helpfully reminded me of the movie's release date a couple of times. This nudging was the ONLY reason I finished the book. To say I hated it was an understatment. It inspired me to write a bad review, which is pretty unheard of. I can generally find something nice to say. I could not find a thing in this book that I enjoyed. (If you are interested in my review, you can read it here.)
I've had a problem with writing recently too. If you couldn't tell by how long it has been between my blog posts, you could look at my Twitter feed which used to be filled daily, or my Facebook which hardly ever gets anything but a shared link from Yahoo News. I mentioned before that I took a writing class last summer. It helped me write a novel in 2 weeks. Unfortunately it also changed my opinion of the writer who taught the class. I use the term "taught" loosely. She was flighty 99% of the time, never responded to anyone's work, didn't bother to update her syllabus from 2008, and didn't follow through with the features of the class that were promised. She did, however, demand we purchase her new book (after already shelling out $100 for the class) during week 4 of a 6 week class. Finally she resorted to bribery by asking that if we could work as her own little mini publicists and get her to a NYT bestseller that she would "take us under her wing". I was so disillusioned by the hard sale, that I dropped out of the class and haven't wrote much since. Granted, I did get my novel out of it, and I am so so proud of it, but I haven't bothered to go back and revise it.
Finally I get to fashion. Or more accurate I suppose is appearance. I love clothes. I love buying them. I love watching shows about sewing them. I even love selling used ones to needy families. It may just be part of the grieving process, but I don't spend as much time as I used to on the way I look. I let my hair's roots go un-dyed. Forget plucking my eyebrows. I chose glasses over contacts more frequently than I used to. Part of it is that I feel like I don't have anywhere to go. I work, I come home, I sleep, I repeat. The other part of it is that I feel like I'm in this great big holding pattern. I'm not divorced yet, but I'm not married either. What good would it do me to feel confident and pretty? I can't move on. I can't go back. I can't afford a divorce. I just have to sit and wait. In the meantime, you can bet I won't be reading, writing, or grooming.
To get myself out of the funk I'm in, I'm trying to do other things to occupy my time. I exercise although I could really kick that up a notch. I cook although it's easier to just eat out when it's for one. I'd love to try my hand at making clothes, but I'm a sewing machine killer. I can break one so fast it isn't even funny. What will I do to pass the time and ease the boredom? Will my love of reading, writing, and fashion ever return? Stay tuned!
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Peak 313 Living and Active Challenge pt 2
So I began the 5 week challenge on a great foot. I was living. I was active. I did everything required of me and then some for the first 6 days and then...injury.
I've been sick with the flu. I've had scrapes, cuts, and bruises. I've had menstral cramps that would make lesser mortals faint. But I have never experienced anything like this.
It happened on a Saturday, which is normally my day off from my day job. I had been forwarded a set of photos taken at once of my husband's shows (he sings, dances, acts, whatever), and included were about 5 of the most unflattering pictures of me ever taken. I was in a funk after seeing them, so I went into work and used my frustration to arrange and re-arrange some of the merchandise with vigor. I moved a couch alongside a customer, and I felt a slight pinch. After the couch was placed, I walked over and picked up a box of books and then I couldn't sit it down. I couldn't bend over at all. I had to drop the box.
I didn't realize the severity of my injury. Never having serious back problems before, I thought I'd be fine with an hour or two of rest. Haha. How naive.
Over the next 12 hours the pain crescendoed into unbelievable torture. I had call into my night job. I could not stand, walk, or go to the bathroom unassisted. I slept in the kitchen floor because I literally could not take another step.
Seven days and 4 chiropractor appointments later I was able to stand for short periods of time. My body shook with the effort of it. I could walk, but it was a slow, sad shuffle, nothing compared to my normally fast clip. Even now, 26 days later, I am only back to about 80% of my former abilities. I am terrified of lifting anything over 10 lbs.
Obviously I wasn't able to be active for the Peak 313 Challenge. I barely qualified as living. If one good thing came out of my injury it was that I had a lot of time to think, and here is the conclusion I reached:
I may not have liked the body I saw in those hideous photographs, but that body was strong and capable.
Never in my life did I feel like such a brat. I was only focused on what I looked like. I completely overlooked the wonderful things my body could do.
I have decided to start the challenge again. This time there won't be hundreds of other people doing it alongside me. I don't have to check in, and I won't win a prize. I'm doing it because I can. I'm also changing my mindset. The first go-around I had only 1 goal - to finish. This time I have 2 goals - finish and maintain a positive, grateful attitude.
I'm not sure if negative reinforcement works for others trying to improve their bodies, but it didn't work for me.
The challenge consists of exercising 25 mins a day/4 days a week. It also incorporates memorizing Bible verses to feed you spiritually, and checking in with others for accountablilty. Since the official challenge ends 10/5, I'll use this blog to check in.
Better late than never, right?
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