The truth hurts

But some folks need to hear it.

(Just not from me. I'm scared of delivering the truth. Something I need to work on, truthfully.)

Writer's Un-Block

Is it too early to start brainstorming for ideas for this year's NaNoWriMo? I punked out of it last year, and I solemnly declare not to punk out a second time.

I've got a lot of plot-bunnies swirling around the ol' noodle, but I can't seem to nail any down. I'm about 99% sure that it'll be historical fiction. That's my bread and butter. That, and a slight element of the supernatural.

Hey, history and supernatural thematics worked for Shakespeare. It'll work for me too, doggone it.

Do unto others

There's something fundamentally good about the feeling one gets from doing something for someone else. It could be holding a door open, or providing that extra penny to the person ahead of you in the checkout as they need it, or providing a little extra help to someone in need.

When I do something like that for someone else, it feels like I'm fulfilling a tiny bit of my life's plan. It's like the world functions better when we help one another; like we're living life the way we're supposed to.

Go figure, right?

Human again?

I hadn't opened my laptop since Friday. The fact that this is the exception and not the rule makes me somewhat distraught. I have to admit, I felt more like a member of the human race without said technology. Even so, it would appear that I've suffered for it: I have some serious playing catch-up to do.

You ever feel like everyone you know has thrown a party, and it wasn't that you weren't invited, per se, but that they threw the party knowing you'd be unable to make it? That's kind of where I'm at.

Mreh. Back to the grind tomorrow. I'll play catch up when I'm not tired/faux-depressed/snippy/on the brink of a new work week.

J. Stew

When Jimmy Stewart (as Charles Lindbergh) successfully lands on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, and he's going bananas, I could've sworn he yelled "Merry Christmas, you old Building and Loan!" in his exuberance.

Antebellum Belle

I love living in the South. (Also, my husband is rather cute.)

Here it is

Your Friday moment of zen, brought to you by the arrival of the three-day Memorial Day weekend:

Cheers to the freakin' weekend, indeed.

It's about to get real in here

Would Jesus really be a Republican? And how would He feel about being used as a political tool?

A Conversation

Me: Hooray. Home from work.

Self: Excellent. Now's a great time to get that workout taken care of.

Me: Workout? But I want to take a nap!

Self: Want to, sure. But should you?

Me: ...

Self: ...



An hour later.



Self: I should've never let you take that nap. You sleep any longer and you'll never get any sleep tonight. Then you'll be tired the next morning, and then you'll want to take another nap tomorrow. You see what a vicious cycle you can create?

Me: No. Don't wanna.

Self: Get. Up.

Me: ...

Self: Aren't you awfully warm under all those covers?

Me: Yeah, kind of. And borderline sweaty.

Self: Is napping fun anymore?

Me: No...

Self: Then let's get up. You promised me you'd work out today.

Me: I know.

Self: You had like, three sugar cookies at lunch today.

Me: (grumble)


Self: Do you think those calories just magically go away on their own?

Me: ...no... I figured they wentawaywhenitookanap.

Self: Come again?

Me: ...whenihadnaptime.

Self: Speak up, woman!

Me: WHEN I TOOK A NAP. I HOPED THE CALORIES WOULD BURN BY TAKING A NAP.

Self: ...

Me: ...

Self: You're a sick, backwards woman.

Me: Mreh.

Self: I'm putting an end to this foolishness. We're working out right this second.

Me: Mreh.

Self: You're going to work out by running a mile. Go. Chop-chop.

Me: ...

Self: ...by doing pilates for an hour?

Me: Try again.

Self: ...By getting out the DVD of Sweating to the Oldies?

Me: That's better.

Self: It's not ideal, but if it'll get your butt in gear. C'mon, let's go.

Me: Okay. But let me blog about it first.

Self: ...

Who else in this world will love you like that?

I serenaded David during one of our recent road trips with this song, and it's most definitely my heartsong du jour.

Besides, Dolly Parton is one of the most adorable broads there is. And we share a birthday. You can plainly see why this matters quite a great deal.

Monday = Conquered.

I got up early, got to work early, got a lot of work done, spent some time with a dear friend over tea and cakes, went grocery shopping, made fish tacos for dinner, and cuddled with my hubby while watching the train wreck that is Revenge of the Sith.

I'd say it was a darned productive Monday. Onto the next day of the week. Bring it.

Resolved:

To go into this coming week with a good attitude, full of optimism and glass-is-half-full-ness. I refuse to let this slump get me down. I'm free from that, son.

I'm just gonna say it

I am absolutely distraught over the degrees I go to in order to be accepted by people. I shouldn't be afraid of being myself. I shouldn't still have these feelings of insecurity, but the running theme is that I consistently run the risk of getting left in the dust. I really, truly, thought that I was over the whole inadequacy thing. I'm bigger than that, better than that.

Still, here I sit, fretting and speculating.

Don't worry; I'm quite aware that this is a phase and that this, too, shall pass. Just figured it'd be sufficient fodder for my daily blog, even if a little emo.

Good Christmas. I'm too old for this.

Here it is

Your Friday moment of zen, brought to you by the fact that I can't stop watching episodes of The IT Crowd on Netflix.

Knight Rider, The IT Crowd, 30 Rock, stroganoff, and enormous biscuits all with my hubby

So how was YOUR Thursday night?

Things I've learned today

1. If your iPhone falls in water, throw that puppy in a bag of rice. Good as new.
2. You'd be surprised to learn that the co-worker you thought hated you is now your BFF.
3. Instant mac'n'cheese? Not so bad, actually.
4. Everything looks more 1859 with a faux braided bun.
5. The only people that donate to museums are old, rich, white people.
6. It's okay to eat your weight in rainbow sherbet, but only if you're premenstrual.

Here it is

Your Tuesday moment of zen, brought to you by the fact that I've skipped a Friday moment of zen and also by the fact that I'm too tired to make a real blog post.

And because we could all use a little Cory/Shawn bromance in our lives.

I just caught up on some season finales

(Note: Not for the hyper-sensitive of spoilers.)

To the Esteemed Writers of Once Upon A Time and How I Met Your Mother,

Really. What have you got up your sleeve?

Once gang: I was so scared that you'd just wrapped everything up and was about to make this a one-season endeavor. My brief panic attack was quelled by reminding myself that Season 2 is guaranteed to be on deck. And thank goodness, because that was a lot of purple haze.

HIMYM folks: I've seen that stupid lead-up scene with the wedding all season, and we get another piece in the puzzle. Redeeming qualities: All of the stories Ted and Robin tell Lilly. "Where Does That Door Go" was priceless.

But I swear if this is another red herring to how Ted met those kids' mother so help me I'll

Most Confusingly Courteously,

Jacquie Sue

Dag NABBIT

I forgot to blog yesterday. I think. I've been a bit punchy all weekend, owing to the fact that I'd average about 5 hours of sleep each night I've been here. New York City is the city that never sleeps, and evidently neither do I.

Right now, for example, I've been up for three hours already and am sitting at the gate, waiting to board the flight home. It'll feel good to get home. And sleep. All the sleep. All day.

Ain't it a fine life

Going to see Newsies on Broadway, brb.

New Yawk

I heart it.

Adventuring

We were definitely supposed to be in New York right now. Instead, our American Airlines flight hit a bird on the descent into Atlanta and apparently jacked up the plane enough for maintenance to come assess the situation. An hour after scheduled departure, we boarded the plane. Sat on the plane for an hour, then we were all instructed to de-plane.

Four hours later, we have seats on a Delta flight instead. So far, so good. Hoping we'll get there tonight.

I'm going to NYC tomorrow

And here are just a few of the feels I'm feeling:

I'll be sure to faithfully update daily as always, even from the Big Apple. Perhaps only a picture or two, but it's the thought that counts, right?

To Do List, Next 24 Hours:

1. Read some Calvin and Hobbes before bedtime.
2. Wake up early to get some work done.
3. Have a two-hour lunch with my boss and coworkers (in lieu of getting pre-vacation work done).
4. Scramble to get the rest of my loose ends tied up within 1 hour.
5. Dash across town to get my hair cut and appropriately NYC-styled.
6. Possibly dash back to Dunwoody to buy a neutral nail color.
7. Figure out what the freaking heck I'm going to wear.
8. Pack all that stuff good and up.
9. Paint nails the aforementioned neutral color.
10. Attempt sleep.

Freaking out. This is getting so real. I can't even wait, but if tomorrow flies by, I won't really have to do much of that waiting business, eh?

BEFORE YOU SAY ANOTHER WORD, JAVERT

I know this is kind of a borderline cop-out (and more appropriate for my typical Friday-moment-of-Zen), but I'm going to chalk my apathy up to my impending trip to New York for an amazing Newsies-filled weekend and therefore little-to-no desire to churn out Blogs of Great Consequence.

And so, I bring to you, some of the best minute-and-forty-seven-seconds you'll find on YouTube, especially if you're a fan of How I Met Your Mother, Les Miserables, or, dare I say, BOTH:

Random act of self-esteem

I haven't worn it too much since I've purchased it, but I bought the most darling dress at Old Navy earlier this year:

Now that it's warming up, I'm planning on wearing it a lot more often (including possibly to NYC next weekend - not sure about that one yet, but it can't hurt to pack it and bring it along). L'anyhoodle, it's quite the self-esteem booster. When I combine it with my adorbs blue flats with the bows-on-the-toes, I'm an unstoppable force of cute.

If you know me at all, you know such a display of positive self-worth is a rare sight for me indeed. Don't get me wrong. I'm making strides towards a decent self image (the success of which I attribute to my wonderful, encouraging friends and family). When I wear this dress, and when I'm walking down the street on such a sunny, pretty Sunday as this one, I feel like "Dreams" by The Cranberries should be playing and I can pretend I'm Kathleen Kelly in You've Got Mail and let my internal monologue muse about life.

Such self-esteem may or may not have helped me jump to the front of the line at the Genius Bar and get my replacement MacBook power cord free of charge this afternoon. Just saying.

One week from this very moment

I'll be halfway through watching Act One of Newsies in New York City, surrounded by the most insane, most wonderful fans I've ever had the privilege to know. Needless to say, there's a whole lotta feels going on for this poor ol' sap right now. ALL the feels, really.

And to prep for this momentous journey, I went shopping for travel-sized bottles. Travel-sized cosmetics ranks right up there with office supplies as Objects Jacquie Is Oddly Amused By And Loves To Shop For. We all have our things, I guess, and one of my things is a miniature bottle of Cetaphil. IT'S SO DANG CUTE I MEAN C'MON ALREADY.

Here it is

Your Friday moment of zen, brought to you by my inner crazy cat lady.

Tardy to the party

But I think 30 Rock is made of awesomesauce. I'm only about 4 eps in on Netflix, but it's easily the most smartly-written show I've seen in a while.

Dang it. Now I've got another thing to DVR.

Squeaky clean, jellybean

Nothing quite matches the satisfaction I get from knowing I cleaned the apartment. Like really, knock-down, drag-out, scrub-all-that-crap-from-the-sink clean. Yes, it was a workout, but the place looks appropriately immaculate. I'm danged proud of it, if I do say so myself.

If only I had a little bit of help from my animal friends. Maybe I'll obtain some when I go to New York. One week from tomorrow. Not counting or anything. Nope.

Clothes Whore(se)

I don't mean to belittle the delightfully hypothetical situation of having a genie grant me 3 wishes, but if that situation would present itself rightthisverysecond, I know exactly what Wish #1 would be:

An unlimited supply of anything I want from ModCloth.

I mean, really. Why can't I have all of these? All the time?