Happy Anniversary Part I

In August of 1997, I started my Freshman year at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. I was about 3 hours away from home - the first time I'd really been away from home on my own - and was loving the freedom and excitement of college. Being on my own for the first time, I decided I didn't want a boyfriend. I wanted to be single and concentrate on finding me. 

But, in November of that year I met a guy named Jason.... this guy irrevocably changed my life for the better. We quickly became friends. Our favorite thing to do was just hang out until sometime in the early morning (sometimes until 3:00 or 4:00), just watching Cartoon Network. 

Fifteen years ago today, our relationship changed from "just friends" to  "it's official, we're a couple." 

I can't believe so many years have gone by. Our relationship has been nowhere near perfect. But, anytime we've hit a snag, we've always come through stronger than before. 

Happy 15 year (overall) anniversary, baby! I love you so much more than you can ever know. Bring on the next 15 years. I know they're gonna be epic.

Look Up in the Sky...

It's a bird, it's plane, it's... ME!

Back in the spring I had a dream that I went skydiving. When I woke up, I felt so peaceful and wonderful that I knew I had to make that dream become a reality.

I started looking up jump sites that were close to me and found a couple, but I never went further than just researching into things. I don't know why. Mainly it was the fear factor. I want to jump out of a plane... but do I really?

Months went by and I still had the idea in the back of my mind. It was just a distant thought of "Yeah, I want to do it. Maybe I'll do it one day. Maybe not." Then in late October I learned that someone I know personally did it. Getting to actually talk to someone that I knew (versus just random comments from strangers online) was very helpful. It cemented my "I've gotta do this" mentality.

In early November I contacted two places - both about an hour away from my home -  to get more information and get a feeling for the companies. From talking with them both, I decided to go with a company called Piedmont Skydiving which is in a small town called Salisbury. In that city, there's a very small airport (emphasis on the "very") and that's where PS has their facility. On November 9th, I called to make my reservations and put down my $50, nonrefundable deposit. There was no backing out now!

Fast forward through two long weeks of anticipation and finally my Big Day was here. This morning I was a bundle of nerves as Jason and I drove down to Salisbury. Upon arriving at the airport, I had to fill out pages and pages of liability waivers, get outfitted in the harness, and kiss the hubster good-bye as the crew and I headed toward the Barbie's Dream Plane (swear to god, this thing was that little).

Once in the plane, we climbed to 10,000 feet before plummeting back down to the earth. Ok, so I really only plummeted for about 30 seconds before the parachute was released. After that point, it was a fairly nice glide down.

I will definitely go skydiving again. It was one of the most amazing things I have ever done in my life. I still can't believe I did it because I don't consider myself a daredevil. But, I guess a (small) part of me is!

Here are the videos of my journey. Enjoy!

Vera-ly I say unto thee

Do you remember when Vera Bradley purses came out? Females all across the nation went nuts (and bankrupt) over these floral-patterned purses. Except for this female, that is. The first time I ever saw one of these monstrosities, the first thought that flitted into my common-folk brain was, “holy shit, they've turned grandma’s wallpaper into a fashion accessory.”

Even if I did like one of the patterns I sure as hell couldn't afford it. Eventually patterns get retired (with full pension plans) and the prices of those pieces drop dramatically. But, the newly reduced cost is usually still above my spending plane. And lest ye forget – I don’t care for the sight of the products.

Yesterday, a co-worker had emailed out a coupon to a little local gift-shop-type boutique. The coupon was for 25% off your entire purchase. Knowing that this store sold cute novelty items (jewelry, candles, and the like) and it’s close to my work place, I thought why not take a trip there. So, on our lunch break, two co-workers (the infamous Melissa being one, Jennifer being the other) and I headed there for a shopping extravagance.

The store was small and tightly packed. You’re forced to take small, Geisha-like steps to scoot around different display cases and racks of baubles surrounded with ribbons. If you speak above a breathy whisper, the sales ladies glare at you disapprovingly. At one point I was just using hand signals – some mix of sign language and gang signs - with Jennifer and I think I moved the air too roughly because the librarianclerk cocked a haughty eyebrow my way.

At the back of store, there was a large section of Vera Bradley merchandise. For kicks and giggles, I decided to check out this area and see what ridiculous patterns were hip nowadays and what type of items I could get said pattern on. Good lord, pencils? I can buy a pack of 10 Vera Bradley pencils and that’ll only cost me $15?  Oh my god, just buy a pack of #2 pencils (you can buy 100 of those for, like, $1.00) and then paint a design on them yourself. Way cheaper. And probably way better looking too.

Melissa, intrigued by my snorting laughter (silent snooty sales ladies be damned), eventually wandered over to me to see what had captivated my attention.

“Look at this wallet,” I cried out to her.

Melissa stammers, “What the hell? It looks like... a... jungle...”

Both of us at the same time, “threw up!” (Great minds and all that jazz). And, no, I can’t make this stuff up. A jungle that threw up is exactly the best way to describe the design on this wallet (and the matching bag and matching luggage tag and matching chastity belt).

The two of us continued to make fun of some of the other patterns, before realizing that we needed to head out soon to get back to work on time. We found Jennifer, who had found a goody for herself. We all trooped to the checkout counter. While there, we noticed a display of Vera Bradley Iphone cases. As the cashier rang up Jennifer’s purchase, we flipped through the cases. I actually saw one with a design that wasn't grotesque. That case was sitting next to one that was. Jennifer noticed that the price tag on the ok one was more expensive than the Quasimodo one. Jennifer mused out loud, “I wonder why this one costs less” My reply, “because it’s uglier.”

The sales lady didn't appreciate that one. In the snootiest tone she could conjure (seriously, I felt a cold draft blow by), she informed us that the cases “are different types” – one’s a hard case. One’s a soft case. One’s made out of children’s skin. One’s made out of unicorn horns.

Really? Your name tag doesn't say, “Hello my name is Vera.” So, don’t act all high and mighty like you had a personal hand in creating this “artwork”... which resembles a cat’s uncleaned litter box.

With all that being said, would you believe I actually found a pattern today that I really like? Don’t worry, I didn't buy the purse (even though it was a great size and had a wonderful amount of pouches). Even with my 25% off coupon, the price on that bag was still more than 2/3 my annual salary.

An awesome(??) present

One random Saturday, Jason and I were just wandering the aisles of one of these box stores that sells everything from toilet paper to credenzas. We like to browse through these stores if we don’t have anything better to do (which is often. Don’t judge me).

As we rounded one turn, a box caught my eye.

I want one!

Pretty awesome device there.

But, check out the kid on the box. If I had human kids I so would not buy this for them (no, I’m not saying I’d buy this for my furry babies, either. None of them really seems interested in drawing).

Yeah, good job on the marketing plan there, geniuses at “Grafix.” I can see parents picking up the box... and immediately visions of colorful hand prints all over the walls, the dog, and the brand new Chintz sofa flash through mommy’s mind. Look, there’s a glimpse of mommy backed into a corner, drinking straight from a bottle of merlot, eyes wide as she takes in the horror of it all.

Hmmm, I have a niece who lives three hours away. And Christmas is coming.

Check out my stems

If you've read my past posts, then you know that I like trying different procedures in the hopes of bettering myself.

My latest thing is Sclerotherapy. What the hell is that? It's a treatment for spider veins. For years, I've had those veins running up the back of my legs, making me self conscious. And that sucks because I think my legs are one of my best features. From years of being fairly active (dance, Tae Kwon Do, now Crossfit and running) and of wearing high high heels, I have pretty nice calves. If I say so, myself. And I do.

My veins never stopped me from showing off my legs. But, I was always aware that those hideous blue tracks were there. Over the past few years, I've been looking into having some kind of vein removal treatment and started reading up on the procedures. I actually did contact a few places a couple of years ago, but some reason never followed through. But, I finally decided to go for it.

Earlier this year, I bought a voucher off of Groupon for some cellulite treatments (see, told ya I'm all about trying different procedures) and I liked the doctor's office. They offered vein removal, so during one of my cellulite treatments I talked to the doctor about treating my veins.

As I learned, I'd have to wear compression socks for awhile after my treatments, I thought I'd wait until the weather turned cold so that I could hide those socks under pants.  I'm so glad I waited. It turns out I have to wear thigh high "panty hose" because some the veins that I had treated were above  my knees, so calf high socks wouldn't work.

Wearing the "panty hose" wouldn't be so bad... if I were a delicate flower. But, I'm part ox or some other equally ungraceful beast. Within 24 hours of owning these damned things, I had runs and holes all over them. Sonofa.

Also, it wouldn't be so bad if the people who made these bleeping things understood height differences. The way you select which size you need (out of the standard small, medium, large, X large grouping) is by measuring different parts of your leg - ankle, calf, thigh. Then you read the handy little sizing chart on the packet. Where your measurements fall in that chart is the size you get. Now, please notice that HEIGHT is not one of the measurements.

Here's a picture on the box.

As always, sorry for the blurry picture.

Notice where the top of the stocking stops on the leggy model in this picture. I don't know how tall she is, but I'm 5'4" and the tops of the leggings basically comes up to my girl bits. Very comfortable. Hey. Assholes. I only needed thigh high. Not freaking armpit high. 

But, despite the joy of the compression hose, I am very happy with the results I'm already seeing from my vein treatments. Tomorrow will be one week since I had my first treatment. I go back on November 14th for a check-up and, if needed, to have some veins retreated (yes, it could take a few treatments). 

Now to start figuring out what my next "body project" will be...

I'm back... I hope.

I've missed this. Just sitting down, babbling on about something random about my life. Where have I been? Mainly training my ass off. This coming Sunday Jason and I will be running the Army Ten Miler. I'm so excited about that. This race starts and ends at the Pentagon. So I've stepped up my game and I've been training at Crossfit 3 days a week and trying to run 2 days a week (that latter bit didn't always happen). The other days were used to catch up on my reading (I get grumpy if I go too long without reading) and trying to clean my house.

But, as you saw my post's title - I hope I'm back. The reason I may not be back is because I'm obviously trying to kill myself... but not consciously. Let me explain.

Last night I decided to do the prepared adult thing and fix lunch for today. That way, I wouldn't be scrambling around in the morning. We had a package of sugar-cured ham in our fridge and I thought to myself, "A ham sammich sounds tasty." The ham was cut into long, wide strips and one piece would be too much for me. So I cut a bit off and made my sandwich.

Fast forward to today at lunch, I'm chowing down and trying to figure out what is up with this ham. It's tough and gummy. The flavor's ok, but not the greatest. As usual, I was eating lunch with Melissa and I actually apologized about my unladylike eating of my lunch. I made some offhand joke about me looking like a lion eating my prey.

Fast forward to my house, after work. I'm whining to Jason about the tough ham. He squints at me and says "how gummy was the ham?" I reply, "pretty damn gummy. It was kinda annoying to eat."

With that, he takes the package out of the fridge... only to find that the ham was uncooked. What the hell??? I just ate raw meat for lunch??? So, about that offhand joke I made. About the lion eating prey. Yeah, not so much a joke.

I immediately texted Melissa to tell her about my outstanding brilliance. Now she and Jason are making fun of me on Facebook. If you're friends with me there, feel free to join in the action. If we're not friends, and you wanna poke a little fun at me, send a request.

I sorta deserve it for being a dingbat.

It's not you, it's me.

Awhile back I wrote a post about some facial treatments I was starting to do - microdermabrasion and chemical peels (if you missed it, you can catch up here).

The technician I'm going to is really nice.  I assume her prices are reasonable (at least she keeps telling me how her prices beat pretty much everyone else's in town). And I do enjoy the microdermabrasion treatments. I even got brave and decided to have a second chemical peel done (this second time was much better than the first).

But - ah yes, the almighty "but" - circumstances have changed. While I want to continue with these treatments, I'm not sure I want to continue with her. Honestly, I do want to stop for a bit because of financial reasons. Jason and I are trying to tighten our purse strings and take care of some credit card debt we have (anyone want to give us a random "Happy September" present of cold, hard cash?). So, we're trying to stop some frivolous spending.

Another reason I want to move on to bigger and brighter pastures is because my technician has screwed up my schedule. When I first starting going to her, she took appointments on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. Perfect! After having these facial treatments done, you can't workout because the sweat getting into your pores will sting. Well, Thursdays were out for a possible appointment day because I do a Crossfit class on Thursdays. So, I was good with one of the other two days.

Now, she's opened a new salon in a town about an hour away (I think she lives somewhere between that city and this one). But, she says she has so many clients here in Winston-Salem that she can't, and won't, leave the salon I've been going to. So, she'll be here on Mondays and spend all her other days in that other city. Great. Except... I'm still taking one class at the YMCA and Monday's the night for that class. What the hell, woman?

So, my question is - how do I "break up" with her? Most of you are probably thinking, "what's the big deal." Just don't schedule a new appointment and ignore her calls. Eventually she'll get the picture and go away. Or, even better, be an adult and tell her the truth. Something along the lines of, "I really like you, but I need to see other facial people. It's not you, it's me. I just need someone who offers me more appointment options." But, I can't do that. I guess part of me is worried that I'll hurt her feelings or she'll think badly of me.

I actually did call her today to cancel my next appointment. Since this past Monday was Labor Day, the YMCA closed earlier and therefore my class was cancelled. My next facial appointment was scheduled for next Monday. When I called Face Lady I used that as my excuse - the," since I missed class this week due to Labor Day, I don't want to miss it next week" drivel. In my defense, that is the truth. I did tell her I wasn't ready to reschedule because I needed to figure out my Monday schedule, basically saying I need to figure out when I'm willing to skip my class.

Now most of you will probably say, just leave it at that. Don't call her back. But, let me redirect you to the last sentence a couple of paragraphs ago - I'm worried I'll hurt her feelings, etc. I know she's not going to be sitting by the phone, anxiously awaiting my call. But, what if she is???

Sigh. This is why I hate doing things like this -  facial appointments or hair appointments or other such type of repeating appointments that don't really have an actual ending. I never know how to gracefully bow out of those "relationships."