Six Word Saturday

it is nearly time to leave

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Want to play along? All that's necessary to participate is to describe your life (or something) in a phrase using just six words. For more information, try clicking here. Feel free to explain or not explain. Add an image, a video, a song, nothing. I love seeing what everyone does with their entries.

Each week (probably on Sunday or Monday), I use random.org to select a bunch of entries to visit.  Or I visit everyone. Or even numbered entries. Or odd numbered entries. Or multiples of three. Depends on what's going on that week.  In addition, please visit the person ahead of you on the list (or visit everyone if you like!). That way everyone receives at least one visit!

If you play along in your blog, please add a link to the Mr. Linky. I appreciate a link back (shiny code below if you like!). Otherwise, you're welcome to leave your six words in this post as a comment.

Please be sure to link either to your main page or (preferably) directly to the 6WS post. Links to blogs that do not contain a 6WS entry will be removed (sorry, just the button in the sidebar doesn't count as participating).

Six Word Saturday

achieving a personal milestone this weekend

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Want to play along? All that's necessary to participate is to describe your life (or something) in a phrase using just six words. For more information, try clicking here. Feel free to explain or not explain. Add an image, a video, a song, nothing. I love seeing what everyone does with their entries.

Each week (probably on Sunday or Monday), I use random.org to select a bunch of entries to visit.  Or I visit everyone. Or even numbered entries. Or odd numbered entries. Or multiples of three. Depends on what's going on that week.  In addition, please visit the person ahead of you on the list (or visit everyone if you like!). That way everyone receives at least one visit!

If you play along in your blog, please add a link to the Mr. Linky. I appreciate a link back (shiny code below if you like!). Otherwise, you're welcome to leave your six words in this post as a comment.

Please be sure to link either to your main page or (preferably) directly to the 6WS post. Links to blogs that do not contain a 6WS entry will be removed (sorry, just the button in the sidebar doesn't count as participating).

<a href="http://www.showmyface.com/search/label/6WS"><img src="http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp35/showmyface/guts/6wsButton.jpg" ></a>

Today I was brave

Note: I'm still easing into this "posting twice a week thing." Let's think of it as more of a goal than a commitment. And if "balance" is the word for the year, "transition" is the word for January.

Today I did something I've never done before. I went to the movies by myself.

Because despite my dislike for crowds and being out in public, despite my general preference for spending time alone, I'm also not a huge fan of going places in public alone. At least not the first time. After the first time, it's not such a big deal. 

But there's always that pesky first time.

Hey, you have your issues, I have mine.

I always thought the perfect first time to see a movie by myself was at our little local independent theatre. It's a tiny, lovely little place. They serve wine, aka a coping mechanism. I pictured myself strolling in, settling back with a glass of wine and taking in a French film. 

Then the damn place went out of business because they decided to bulldoze it and replace it with yet another grocery store. How many grocery stores do we have in a 25 mile radius? Approximately 92172358. How many independent movie theatres showing foreign, indie, and other random films? 0 now. I'm not good at math but yeah...

It's not lost on me that the movie I saw today is Silver Linings Playbook. Among other things, it's primarily a movie about a guy with some mental issues. So yes, I finally gathered up enough courage to get beyond my mental issues to go by myself to see a movie about a guy with mental issues.

And I enjoyed it immensely. I'll do it again and think nothing of it, now that it won't the first time.

And so it begins

Today is the first at-home day of Joe's new job. I've been working from home now for quite awhile and I've become accustomed to having the place to myself during the day. And he's been accustomed to an often lousy commute to an office where he ran from meeting to meeting with some periods of time in his cubicle in the middle of a noisy space.

This is going to be a big change for both of us. But I'm excited for it to be a good change. This is one of those examples of a time when our attitude and approach can make a big difference.

We are fortunate that our home is large enough to provide us with separate work spaces. An upstairs bedroom serves as his office and he can close the door. We also have a bonus room over the garage where my craft desk and work desk are located. And then there's the downstairs where I sometimes go to escape the heat (the bonus room is poorly insulated).

He actually started the new job on Monday. He traveled to meet his boss and his boss's boss for two days of orientation. It's already clear that this job is going to require a lot of flexibility and ability to roll with the circumstances (something I'm not exactly known for). Monday night, he told me he'd be working from home all next week. Tuesday at noon, we found out they're putting him on a project that will involve travel the first part of the week. This is apparently typical.


I think the biggest key to making this work for both of us will involve respect. We both need to respect boundaries and space. We need to not interrupt. We need to be aware that we have different working styles. We need to both kind of go about our day individually while being aware that we aren't the only ones working in this space. And we're both going to need to locate our headphones. 


Communication will be important too. Yay for living in a digital age - we have a shared online space that we use to communicate a lot of those little things that come up during the day. You don't want to forget them, but you also don't want to interrupt to share them RIGHT NOW! They don't usually require immediate attention so on the list they go for whenever the other person has the time to look them over. We use similar tools to keep track of things that need to be done to the house, items to pick up at the grocery store, etc. It's worked for us in the past so I'm hoping it keeps working.

It's going to be a very all-or-nothing situation with this job. Forget going into the office in the morning and coming home at some point in the evening. He's either going to be here all day or he's going to be gone all day. Good times...

Anyone out there who works from home or has a spouse working from home or you're both home during the day or he travels? Any tips for making this a productive experience? 

Six Word Saturday

first weekend off in a month

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Want to play along? All that's necessary to participate is to describe your life (or something) in a phrase using just six words. For more information, try clicking here. Feel free to explain or not explain. Add an image, a video, a song, nothing. I love seeing what everyone does with their entries.

Each week (probably on Sunday or Monday), I use random.org to select a bunch of entries to visit.  Or I visit everyone. Or even numbered entries. Or odd numbered entries. Or multiples of three. Depends on what's going on that week.  In addition, please visit the person ahead of you on the list (or visit everyone if you like!). That way everyone receives at least one visit!

If you play along in your blog, please add a link to the Mr. Linky. I appreciate a link back (shiny code below if you like!). Otherwise, you're welcome to leave your six words in this post as a comment.

Please be sure to link either to your main page or (preferably) directly to the 6WS post. Links to blogs that do not contain a 6WS entry will be removed (sorry, just the button in the sidebar doesn't count as participating).

<a href="http://www.showmyface.com/search/label/6WS"><img src="http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp35/showmyface/guts/6wsButton.jpg" /></a>

I Stole a Shirt

This weekend, we made a trip to our warehouse store of choice. We only go when we're desperately out of things, which makes the sting all that worse when we head to the cash register. But this time, I helped lower our total by stealing a shirt. Yep, a little five-finger discount in aisle seven.

Eh, am I fooling anyone? I like to think I'm a total bad-ass, but probably notsomuch. The truth is just so much less interesting and I'm trying to build up some street-cred so people will fear me once I put my plan for world domination in action.

Anyways, I was looking at their clothes and decided to buy two items (there's the bad-ass part - yeah, I buy clothes at a warehouse store from time to time!). The shirt was on a hanger. The sweater was not. In order to keep the two together and free of meat debris once we hit the food aisles, I placed the sweater on the hanger with the shirt. See, smart! And when I did this, I thought to myself that I should make sure to separate them once we hit the checkout so I didn't accidentally steal a shirt.

Fast-forward four hours later and we're finally done shopping and heading to the registers. I left Joe in line with the cart and made a quick dash to the loo so I wouldn't pee myself on the way home in his car. I'm so considerate!

I didn't think about the shirt again until I was helping load the car and saw them hanging there, still nicely intertwined. Uh oh. I checked the receipt and sure enough, I had stolen a shirt. Dammit!

Back to the store I went. I thought about trying to pretend I was from the corporate office, conducting field inspections to see how thoroughly employees were working to prevent shoplifting, but it was really my mistake and I didn't want to get the cashier in trouble. Plus, you know, it wasn't exactly truthful. Customer service thanked me for my honesty, charged me for the second shirt, and sent me on my way.

Exciting, really, living a life of crime. Now I can add "petty theft" to the list of skills on my resume. Any of you want to hire me?

Selling My Junk

I want to begin by making it perfectly clear that this post has nothing to do with drugs or prostitution. (Let's just wait while those people leave, okay?)

Alright, I'm talking about our neighborhood yard sale this weekend. The 'hood has a couple of these a year but we've never participated. After being home all winter in this house with all this crap, I want to off-load oodles of it.

There's a little bit of everything: books, dvds, a printer, a nice computer monitor, lamps, dust-collectors, a whole set of corelle plates/cups/casserole dishes, glass vases, garage junk. I've also decided having two cats around the house is a bit extravagant so I've threatened them both that whoever pisses me off the most between now and Saturday is getting a "free" sticker.

I have no idea what to put on any of this stuff for prices. I'm planning on grouping things - all paperbacks the same price, all dvds the same price, etc. But what price IS that? And how do you determine the price on a lamp? My goal is to get as much as possible out of the house while still bringing in a bit of cash. I'm not looking to get rich or fund a huge project, but at the same time I'm not so desperate to be rid of it that I'll just put a "free" sign on the whole lot (donating to Goodwill would at least get us a tax deduction in that case).

Any tips? Any great resources? I've already made sure my xanax is in good supply because I hate dealing with people and I hate talking prices and I really hate dealing with people who are talking prices. Also, don't judge me based on my stuff!

Dramatic Ending

I think everything in life should have a dramatic ending. Like a pointy-pose, or jazz hands, or a withering (fake) death. Or firetrucks!

Yesterday, I went to the gym for the first time since before starting physical therapy for my back. I started with the treadmill, then my PT exercises as adapted for the fancy gym machines, then some time on the elliptical. For my big ending, I decided to do another 15 minutes of walking on the treadmill.

Just as I set up the treadmill, there were blinky lights and sirens around the workout room. It's possible I've been watching too much Let's Make a Deal because my first thought was that someone had won something. Oooh, maybe *I* had won something for having such a great first workout back! I popped off my headphones and waited for someone to come my way with a big check and balloons, only to hear the PA system announce that this was an emergency and everyone needed to calmly proceed to the nearest exit immediately.

(A quick note - aren't "calmly" and "immediately" a bit contradictory? Yeah, I thought so too.)

I stood outside for a bit before the manager told us that firetrucks were on the way and we could not re-enter the building until they had arrived and cleared it.

At that point, I figured firetrucks were a perfect dramatic ending for my first workout back at the gym, so I hopped in my car to head home. And as I pulled to the curb while the firetruck came blasting through from the other direction, I may have even done some jazz hands.

Psycho

Remember how I was all freaked out that my gym was changing locations because the idea of change horrifies me?

Somehow I survived the first few visits. I changed into my gym clothes at work, drove to the gym, worked out, drove home, showered in the safety and privacy of my own bathroom.

This was fine for a couple of weeks until Joe and I went to the gym together on a Saturday morning. We were on a tight schedule trying to fit in workouts and still make my eye appointment so he suggested showering at the gym instead of taking time to come home.

Umm, excuse me? Get naked in the public shower? What is this, high school?

But my practical side won out so I went along with his brilliant idea. All was well at first. The locker room was actually empty so I didn't have to bear the shame of people looking at my nekkidness as I bundled in a hand-towel-they-pretend-is-a-shower-towel and tip-toed over to the shower.

The shower itself was fine. I would've preferred a locking stall door but it was plenty private with a shower curtain, changing area, another shower curtain, and then the shower itself. Plus, they provide soap and shampoo. Awesome.

Just as I was calming down at the ok-ness of this, the lights went off. As in pitch-black. I mean, it's a shower - there aren't windows in there. My mind immediately went to the shower scene from Psycho and every cliche horror movie scene since then where the killer is IN THE HOUSE, turns out the lights, and then ATTACKS the woman in the shower where she is naked and most vulnerable.

I quickly rinsed off in silence (because, you know, they wouldn't hear the water running), grabbed my towel, and slowly stepped out of the shower curtain. Immediately, the lights came back on.

Yeah, the lights were hooked to a motion sensor to save the gym electricity. I had noticed this in other rooms but what moron thought that was a good idea in the shower area? Of course the sensor can't see activity once you've left the main hall and moved into one of the shower stalls!

I wonder if that stupid motion sensor has freaked anyone else out or if I'm just special.

The Ghost of Halloweens Past

One of my earliest Halloween memories was kindergarten. I was so excited to dress up and have our class party. And the day before? A class trip to the pumpkin patch!

Along with being one of my first Halloween recollections, it's also the first anxiety attack I can remember. While everyone else bounces in excitement over trips, I quiver and shake, terrified of being out of my comfort zone. Thankfully, this has gotten better with medication over the years. But at five years old, I didn't have the pills coping mechanisms I have today.

And I got so freaked out that I puked on the bus. On the stairs of the bus even. While everyone else was still waiting to climb off the bus. Which meant that all of my classmates had to go out the back exit.

Awesome. I was that kid.

I think I puked on every class trip up through high school. And you might as well include college because even though I was no longer taking class trips, Spring Break my freshman year is why I can't stand peaches (you spend a couple of hours barfing in the heavily peach-scented Georgia welcome center and tell me you'll ever eat peaches again).

Kindergarten Halloween is also one of my first memories of feeling inferior. See, everyone else had awesome homemade costumes. Their mothers had spent hours crafting ghosts and clowns and princesses and pumpkins. Me, I had a costume from Kmart. One of those cheap jumpsuits that smelled like a chemical spill. Solid-colored vinyl pants, a picture of the character you were supposed to be on the top, and a plastic mask that attached with a rubberband that always broke after 20 minutes which was just as well because you couldn't see out of it anyways.

To make it worse, there was only one other kid in the class wearing the dreaded lame plastic costume. Darren. The fat kid. AND? We had the same lame plastic costume. Papa Smurf. All of my friends in their beautiful princess and angel and fairy costumes and I was a plastic smelly man-Smurf. (Don't Google for Smurf costumes, btw. Terrifying blue adults. I gave up finding the Papa Smurf costume.)

As much as it made me feel pathetic not to have a "real" costume, life may have been even more traumatic the one time I remember my mother actually putting together a costume for me. It consisted of a black leotard with a tail sewn on the back, black stockings, ears on a headband and drawn-on whiskers.

Cute, right?

Except this was 5th grade. The year my body decided to start growing odd bumps on my chest. Bumps that I did my very best to conceal so my classmates wouldn't notice and wouldn't laugh at me. Bumps that could NOT be concealed in a leotard. Plus, this was New York - it was damned cold in late October to be running around practically naked! So I threw my pink winter coat on to keep warm and hidden. But then my legs were cold, leaving me to pull my jeans back on as well. And I was basically a girl with a weird tail sticking out between my jacket and jeans, whiskers, and cat ears. Like I didn't have a costume really at all, just a few lame accessories.

This year, I'm not dressing up. And I'm not handing out candy. We're going away (yes, again!) for the night and I plan to spend the evening hanging out in the hotel bar. That's right - the only thing going bump in the night? Will be me. Just the way I like it.

My first time

I love writing about my first time. In fact, I think I've written about my first time before on this blog. Since it was my first time, I was scared but once I was able to relax, I really enjoyed it. More importantly, I felt great afterwards and immediately wanted to do it again!

No, not that.

I'm talking about my first massage!

Joe has, of course, given me the occasional uneducated but appreciated massage. It's nice and something I wish he would do more often. But this time he outdid himself by booking us a couples massage.

A professional massage is something I've wanted to do for awhile but I've always been too afraid. Cost, weight, strangers in my space. All of these have been issues that kept me from going. But since Joe booked and insisted, I did what anyone else would do.

I hyperventilated. I begged him to cancel. I freaked.

Then I shaved my legs, popped a xanax, and off we went.

We were greeted by two lovely ladies. The introduced themselves as Tonya and Kat. Perfect. Nothing could possibly induce an image of relaxation more than my Tonya-cat. The ladies appeared to be without fur and claws so we proceeded.

Kat was great about explaining exactly what was going to happen and asking if there were any specific areas to either focus on or avoid.

The massage itself was fantastic. I was so relaxed I actually fell asleep a few times. My friend who is currently in school to become a licensed massage therapist assures me this is a compliment and not a bad thing. She even assured me that a bit of snoring is seen as a good thing. Yeah, maybe to a masseuse. Not so much to a spouse.

Afterwards, I was hooked. I wanted to repeat that feeling over and over agian. Warmth, relaxation, not a care in the world. Until they hit you with "and now it's time to pay!". I sorta wandered off and let Joe take care of that part. Maybe he can pre-pay for any of my future sessions so I can just pretend it's free.

For someone who hates to be touched and has major trust issues, I'm surprised I enjoyed this so much. I can't wait to go again!

P.S. - Aren't first times fun?

My first time

Another gem from the family vault today. Over there on the right, I've added a handy countdown clock to the start of our family adventure so you can properly prepare to pity me.

Most people remember certain firsts - first kiss, first job, first car. I think "first gray hair" is one that most folks recall, even if they'd rather not.

My first gray hair was discovered a few years back. It was the day of my brother's college graduation. Already feeling anxious due to travel and proximity to my mother, the hot weather was only adding to my discomfort. While the crowd around us was showing the usual sense of decorum at this important event, my mother was loud and obnoxious, drawing attention to herself in negative ways. This, for her, is the norm.

It was during the long and boring inspirational and fascinating commencement address by some dude I've never heard of a visionary leader that I felt a sharp pull at the side of my scalp, accompanied by "Ooooh, my daughter has a gray hair, I found a gray hair! She's only 27 and she has gray hair!". All the while waving the hair around for anyone nearby to see.

I wanted to die, of course. Or at least punch her in the face. Thankfully, with the outdoor setup, my brother was blissfully unaware of my mother's outburst.

As for me, I bit my tongue, even when she asked if I wanted to keep it. I only said "no thanks". But what was in my head was "it's fitting you found it because you sure as hell caused it!".

P.S. As I said, that was a few years ago. I haven't found any gray hairs since only really blonde hairs that are natural highlights, right?. Until recently. Coincidence that I'm finding a few grays now, with family vacation looming? I think not.

P.P.S. Can anyone recommend a decent at-home product for covering silvers (because silver sounds so much sexier than gray, sorta like that hot Silver Fox Anderson Cooper, rawr!)? Must be easy to use because I'm an idiot. My other hairs are brownish, if that matters.